#and the good news is i did not drop the fucking leash

[existennialmemes]

Me: [slips and falls]

My nervous system: MAYDAY MADAY WE ARE UNDER ATTACK Deploying Defensive Maneuver- Get Dizzy And Pass Out

Me: Really not seeing how this is helping

My Nervous System: IT'S NOT HELPING LAUNCHING PANIC ATTACK

[b00tyliciousbabe]

waves

pairing: surfer!bf x THICC!male reader

summary: oh, how i need a tall, curly headed goofball…

notes: HOPE MY LOVELIES ARE DOING WELL. trying to get through my requests, but this was a personal one of mine. slowly but surely y’all! as summer is coming to an end, it was SO necessary for me to feed my hot girl delusions at least a couple more times. also, enjoy the new style i have been experimenting with!

song rec: they. - diamonds and pearls

album rec: sabrina carpenter - short n sweet (my girl sabz ate so hard with this project, i just wish it was released in early aug so she could’ve rly CONQUERED summer 2024) THEE POP PRINCESS!

brief background:

your boyfriend was raised with a silver spoon; he’d never had to work a day in his life and everything he ever wanted, he got. well, everything except you. throwing money to impress people had worked on all of his other childhood crushes, but not you, which made him all the more determined to prove to you he wasn’t just some fuck boi the media painted him out to be. his family owned the richest resort in the carribean, and had hotels in every mega city worldwide. but wherever they travelled to, your man was never too far from a beach. call it fate, but the sea would always lead you back to him. it was where he first laid eyes on you; reading a very lengthy novel as you laid on the sand, watching your friends play in the water. after their surf practice, your mutual friends introduced the two of you and you were SMITTEN - but you couldn’t show your interest too soon. he too was whipped, and didn’t take nearly as much effort to hide it, practically drooling whilst staring at you. his mates would constantly ridicule him for his dazed expression around you, and he could never hear the end of the new nickname ‘bambi boy’ you gave him because he looked so cute when he was flustered. after weeks of regular conversation and a couple walks on the beach, he officially asked to be your boyfriend and you said yes.

when it came to finally introducing you to his family, they loved you almost as much as he did. he was the youngest of six and so he got the privilege of this. his parents especially were wishing y’all would stay together. they believed you were the perfect match for their goofball of a son.

core memory sfw:

the first time he said ‘i love you’ with TRUE meaning; you were always worried that you were just one fuck away from being forgotten, but your man made sure to constantly affirm his love for you. he brought you the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers, and stood outside in the pouring rain, playing a mixtape he’d made for you. it was genuinely a scene out of a film, he was your knight in shining armour (a hawaiian shirt and matching shorts) and it was then that you knew that you guys were endgame.

core memory nsfw:

to say your bf loves your body is an understatement. the way he’s hooked on your body, some might say it’s borderline unhealthy. he’s so handy and keeps his hands on your ass all the time. whether it’s a spank, watching it jiggle as you walk away from him, or a full on grip as his pulls you onto his dick, he’s a man that would gladly die between your cheeks. one time during dinner you wore a wrap skirt paired with a tank top, paired with a thong that was peeping out enough to make your man’s eyes pop out of his head like a cartoon character. as his jaw dropped, practically salivating at the sight of your body moving closer to him, you picked it up and giggled, stroking his chin endearingly. for the entire meal he was practically sat right next to you, breathing in your luscious skin. ‘boy, you better calm down, we have company.’ you giggled. ‘fuck bby, how can you say that when you look good enough for me to eat?’ he whispered into your ear, trying not to bring too much attention. before you knew it you were face down, ass up and your thong was pulled to the side, as he used it as a pseudo leash keeping your pussy bouncing on his cock.

your favourite thing about him: his oddball nature.

as much as it can annoy you that he’s always cracking jokes, leaving no room for respite, your bf never fails to bring joy to your life. as the life of the party he’s always bringing that much needed energy to the dull world of his mostly corporate family. whether it be seeing you hollering at some unhinged thing he’d said, or watching him (ironically) fuck the smile onto your lips, you can tell that comedy is who he is, and you wouldn’t change your weirdo for anything.

his favourite thing about you: how artistic you are.

almost impossibly, it makes your boyfriend fall in love with you even more seeing your creativity flourish. you’re always making him jewellery out of the shells and stones you find. he loves to wear them, it gets you going when you see the necklace you made for him swing back and forth as he fucks into you. or when you feel the cold of his rings and bracelet on your waist as he holds you in position to fuck you even harder. he’s so proud of you.

his insta post: mostly just him showing off his good looks (we love a cocky man around here) and his beach flix.

surfer!bf my face is his favourite seat.

y/n: that big dick is a very close second though.

tinashe replied: @y/n, you a nasty girl fr.

sabrinacarpenter replied: @y/n girl, need you on that bed chem remix. about to do some damage…in a good way x

your insta post: almost always pictures of your creations; you like to keep your relationship with him private, that’s YOUR man, and you can get very possessive.

y/n feel free to add to your pinterest boards.

surfer!bf: baby you’re so talented 🩵

viviennewestwood: so excited to see your next collection!

surfer!bf: i love you.

y/n replied: @surfer!bf aw, i love you too babes!

plans for the future!

being with one of the greatest surfers in the world, definitely came with some amazing perks.

marriage:

oh, he’s 100% thought about it, and would definitely be the one to propose. the free spirit in him doesn’t need a piece of paper to prove that he loves you, truly. But would totally be your husband if you let him x

children:

your surfer!bf ABSOLUTELY WANTS TO HAVE A FAMILY WITH YOU! sees himself as the best father and y’all would have the cutest kids ever.

tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@multireese

@malereadermaniac

@lysanderplume

@ghostking4m

[dilfl0v3rss]

alr hear me out, hear me out

what about another addition of punishment but this time, ony punishing y/n because she came home late and didn’t tell him where she was at?💁🏾‍♀️💁🏾‍♀️💁🏾‍♀️💁🏾‍♀️

i think ab this a lottttt

it’s been awhile since you’ve gotten to be outside like this. shaking ass on top of sasha connie’s car at the gas station while high out of your mind. and the best part about it was that you didn’t have to be looking over your shoulder all night because you actually were allowed to be here.

“if you be safe and be home by one, we straight mama” ony said as he led you out of the house with a slap on the ass. smirking as he watched you practically sprint to sasha’s car.

it was only nine when you left the house which meant y’all had plenty of time to take a couple shots, go see a movie, and hotbox the fuck out of that car.

“we still got enough left for another spliff yall!” you yelled as sasha, mikasa, and emoni began to cheer in the driver and backseats. “roll that muthafucka uppp!” sasha yelled. y’all were having too much fun, but nothing lasts forever. when you looked into the glove compartment for papers you were only shown an unloaded glock. “sash you got more papers on you?” everyone’s heads whipped towards you. mikasa reached towards the front and turned the music all the way down so she could hear you better. “what you mean?”

“i meaannn there’s no more in here” each of you whined in unison as sasha began to start the car up again. “connie must’ve been using em, but the gas station only down the block yall. i got us!!!” in an instant the spirits were brought back up again. loud screams and the bass to your music was all that could be heard from y’all as sasha continued the party from the parking lot to the gas station.

big dick🫶🏽

‘hope you being safe mama’

‘daddy miss you’

read at 11:30 pm

you began typing to answer your man, but your attention was snatched by the sound of a good song. good form by nicki minaj began to play all throughout the car, making you drop your phone on your seat as you opened your door and started dancing your life away. ass going in circles as emoni turned the song up from the backseat and came out to dance too.

the four of y’all were at that gas station for thirty minutes, but in sober time it was two hours. out of the entire group, you were probably the littest. giggling every five minutes and screaming to the top of your lungs when a good song, which was damn near every song that played, came on. before you knew it, y’all were in a nice secluded area passing another blunt around. telling each other what y’all been up to.

“then the bitch gon say ‘yea put her on a leash’ likeee. i would really wash you hoe don’t even play wit me like that” the group giggled as you continued to tell them a story from your past weeks. “did you fuck her up? please tell me you fucked her uppp” mikasa said as she leaned over the side of your seat. you rolled your eyes as you thought back to that night. “nah. ony told her to watch her mouth and took me to the bathroom t’go pee”

“speaking of ony. i’m surprised he even let you out the houseeee” emoni squealed as she lightly tapped your shoulder to pass you the blunt. you happily took it before putting it to your mouth, taking a big hit from it before releasing the whole smoke into the atmosphere of the car. “he said as long as m’safe and home by one he’d let me rock” confusion clouded your mind as you watched the three of your friends gasp. giving each other nervous looks as they contemplated whether or not to tell you the bad news.

“what?” you asked with a smirk, not thinking anything of their actions. chalking it up to them having some tea to spill. sasha was the first to speak. “honey where’s your phone?” you looked around for the device, eventually finding it in between the center console and your seat. “right here” you said, lifting the screan towards them so they can see. even louder gasps could he heard as they looked at the many notifications you had. “bitch that nigga gon kill you” emoni blurted out, earning her pissed off looks from both mikasa and sasha as you turned the phone towards your face.

29 missed calls from: big dick🫶🏽

50 messages from: big dick🫶🏽

you looked at the screen in confusion “why would he…” your heart dropped to your ass at the realization. this whole time y’all was having fun and smoking each other out this man has been trying to contact you because it been 1 am and you still weren’t home. it was now damn near four in the morning.

“oh fuck”

“yea your ass is grass. lemme get you home” sasha mumbled as she put the car in drive.

the ride home was dead silent. not a damn thing said as sasha slowly drove you back to your house. when she pulled up in your driveway she softly touched your arm. “m’so sorry suge. ian know you needed to be ho-”

“nah it’s my fault. i should’ve said sum” you closed the door with a sigh before turning around and shamefully walking towards the front. you figured there was no reason to try to sneak through the back since ony was most definitely waiting for you inside. as you walked inside you were instantly met with the sound of 90s r&b quietly playing throughout the house.

‘weird’ you thought as you walked deeper and deeper inside. eventually seeing ony’s shirtless figure facing away from you at the kitchen island. the closer you got to him the more you could see what he was doing. his big hands wrapped around a small knife as he cut up some watermelon pieces. you expected him to speak to you, but he didn’t. he just walked away and washed the knife, putting it away before turning around and leaning on the counter.

he stared at you. brown eyes looking into yours as he leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. “drink the water and eat that.” was all he said as he looked at you expectedly, waiting for you to listen to his command. you opened the water first, taking a couple sips before putting it down and taking a bite of watermelon. you would be lying if you said it wasn’t good. and since you were still high it was one of the best things in the world. loud slurping sounds could be heard as you quickly devoured the fruit.

ony still watched you, arms still crossed as he waited for you to finish. as your feasting came to an end he put your bowl in the sink, waiting for you to finish your water so he could put it in the recycling bin as well. when it was all said and done he brought you to your bedroom where your pajamas were already waiting for you on the bed. “gon head and take that off. you smell like mad weed”

as you changed into the clothes you failed to notice the vibrator and fuzzy cuffs near his pillow, but ony made sure to get you well acquainted with the items very soon. you slowly put on the t-shirt he gave you, removing your under where and bra before putting it on since you thought you’d be sleeping real comfortably tonight. “thank you d-” ony wasted no time. as soon as he seen you finish changed he snatched your ear towards his mouth by the back of your neck.

“you ain’t think it was gon be that easy, did you?” arousal began to make its way to your core almost instantly. his deep voice and cologne clouding your senses as you felt his hard chest on your back. “why you always gotta make shit difficult f’me, huh? why can’t you just listen mama?” you were too out of it to even reply, eyes wandering around the room as you tried your hardest not to cry. “you know what i gotta do t’you right?” you slowly nodded your head before ony let you go, watching you instantly crawl onto the bed and get into position.

as you laid with your ass in the air, ony made quick work of getting the cuffs around your wrists. laying the vibrator next to you for later. “i told you t’be home by 1, but you wasn’t gone by one, wasn’t you baby? nahhh…..you came in that door at 4:30.” as he spoke, you felt his heavy hands caress and squeeze your ass. constantly letting his fingers thirst around your pussy to keep you on edge. “m’sorry da-” a hard slap to your ass shut you up immediately. making quiet whimpers be released into the air as your tears filled down your cheeks.

“then i told you t’be safe, and you decided to go to a gas station in the middle of the night and shake your ass out the car” another two slaps were brought to your ass, making ony smile as he caught sight of your arousal beginning to give you pussy a pretty shine. “m’sorry daddy. i w-wont do it again” you whined, but of course he ignored you. turning the vibrator on and rubbing it all over your thighs and ass to keep you on edge.

“tell daddy your rules and colors ma” he brushed the vibrator lightly on your clit, making you twitch before moving it to your thigh. you whined, poking your ass out more as a silent beg for the contact, earning you another hard slap on your ass. “y’hear me talking t’you?”

“fuckkk no running, no to-touching, nd no cummin without daddy’s permission. m’colors are green, yellow, n’red”

ony nodded his head at your obedience, sliding the vibrator to your clit before dipping into you with two fingers from his other hand.

“keep your safeword in mind too ma. s’gon be a long night”

ima finish this in a part 2💋

[cheshirebitch]

ℕ𝕠𝕥 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕆𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤

(Alastor x Angel Dust’s Sister!Reader) pt. 2

It really has been a long time, huh?

( previous ) -> ( next )

I have never seen Anthony look at me like that, as though I’m the villain destroying his life. But, last I checked, he was the one going by the real villain that actually did take his life. It was purely distasteful with his choice of name, let alone the fact that was his porno name. What was so wrong with his actual name?

“Listen toots, I didn’t want to ask you for help. We didn’t have any other choice.” The venom spat back at me made my eyes narrow at him. What the fuck is his problem? All of this attitude is not how Anthony would talk to me. It felt like this whole new persona was taking over who he really is. I wanted to rip him apart, but not in front of these people. I can’t let everyone know my weaknesses, even if they pretty much all knew tiny parts.

“I get that. So I’ll ask again, what did you need help with?” I seethed through my teeth, feeling the watching eyes of all his friends. I only tensed up at my own attitude when I remembered Alastor and Lucifer were here too. I rolled my eyes closed and took a deep breath in and out before having an eerily calm aura surrounding me. Knowing I wasn’t going to get an answer out of the pissed off porn star brother, I looked towards Charlie. I could tell I made her nervous, shivers running down her spine before she straightened herself out and answered me.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard that we- uh-“ She glanced back at Lucifer who was wide eyed back, shrugging slightly as a response.

“That you,” pointing at Niffty with a smug smile, “killed the great and Holy Adam? Yeah, hard to miss when it’s being broadcasted on every device in hell.” I crossed my arms, smiling. It was really amusing to see Lucifer step in with his slip up of phrasing. Alastor also put on a good show by standing against Adam. I never expected him to actually take on such a powerful Heaven icon.

“Yeah, well, we need help with reinforcement in case the angels decide to retaliate.” She nervously fidgeted with her fingers, Lucifer watching me with anticipation. They all were, really. I was honored they considered me for help against heaven. Pretending to be debating it, I took long strides between Lucifer and Alastor.

“With all things considered, that’s a lot of my members being potentially killed for you. What do you have to offer me to make it worthwhile?” My hand started to glow pink, flexing my fingers and watching Charlie. Lucifer couldn’t make a deal with me or that’ll make more problems, only leaving Charlie and Alastor. Not like Luci would ever make the trust between us obvious. It would be a poor move if he wants to keep his weaknesses unknown. Alastor would rather drop dead than to be on a leash of someone else, though I have a sneaky suspicion it’s because he’s already on a leash. I should ask him about it next time we have one of our talks. Also, I already knew what they were going to sell to me but I can’t just make an assumption with it.

“We will make sure Angel Dust gets redeemed.” My eyes light up pink, turning around to look at Alastor. He held his hand out casually, opposite of how Charlie held hers against her chest. What a bland, and predictable, deal offer.

“Alastor, baby, I already knew that. We both knew that.” I winked at him. “So, what else?” His smile strained, despite it appearing to become more entertained. I read him like a book. It wasn’t very hard since he loves to hide behind a smile, saying it made things more intimidating. I’d like to think it’s more so the idea of being able to bottle those emotions he loves to hide.

“What else? Darling, I think it’s more than reasonable for that to be a big deal.” He smiled his sharp teeth, my eyes watched them carefully. A sneaky feeling crawling up my spine as my eyes stuck like a magnet to him. That’s when Lucifer pushed Alastor’s arm down, rolling his sleeves up, walking towards me. He stuck his hand outstretched towards me, trying to intimidate me with a hard stare. I just smiled in response, awaiting for his deal. I guess they really are desperate if Luci won’t even let Alastor and I pretend to hash out this deal. It was already mutually understood what he was going to offer was more than just that. He was just toying with the rest.

“We will get your brother into heaven, and you.” My smile froze on my face. I couldn’t get into Heaven. No matter how hard any of us tries, I’ll always be stuck here in hell. That fate was sealed long ago. My hands have been permanently stained red and black from how many lives I selfishly took after the death of my two siblings. My hands crossed tightly behind my back as I pondered harder over what he was promising.

I don’t think I want to go to Heaven. I couldn’t place why but something small was trying to tug me to decide to stay in hell.

Something small. The idea of being in heaven with my two younger siblings was bigger. Hell, maybe even the forgotten sibling will be there too.

“Can you even make deals, Luci?” I purred out the nickname in a taunting manner, giving a small moment of silence between us. Since he wanted to air out dirty laundry, I’ll give more hints to how close we actually are. But, he definitely didn’t think he could make a deal either. Charlie tried reasoning with him while Alastor watched from the sidelines, an odd look in his eyes. They flickered to Lucifer before narrowing with displeasure. I guess someone doesn’t like sharing friends.

“I guess we will see, won’t we La Morte.” He was struggling to remain professional. Neither of us wanted to act like this. This was all just a show for our professional standpoints, but I hated it. I’ve had to act professional and put together all my life, no matter how hard I fought against my father to create a life for myself and my siblings who wanted out. That’s all any of us wanted. Lucifer was a good guy despite the title he carries. His daughter is also an amazing girl. I would have agreed to do this either way. But, too many eyes were watching in this moment, too many windows and vulnerability to be spotted for our soft realities of each other. My hand gripped his as pink and gold clashed together.

“You got a deal, Satan.” My smile turned poisonous as I gripped his hand. My magic branded his palm with a pink heart, healing itself just as quickly into a scar. I felt the searing pain of a tally mark etch into my back, ignoring the feeling and refusing to let it slip out that it even happened.

“Anyways, enough with the professional talk. If we are going to be a team, call me by my name. I’m (Y/n).” Whether they could tell or not, my smile was genuine when I reached to shake hands with Charlie, Lucifer still rubbing his hand where the heart was branded onto him. Alastor watched heavily, something else pulling the weight of his stare on me. There’s no way he knows about the reciprocating brand mark. What can he notice that I don’t have hidden?

“Your name is really beautiful! I’m glad I don’t have to call you Death every time I refer to you now.” Charlie smiled genuinely back. Trying his best to make it sound like he has never called me by my name before. My eyes raked over his figure, understanding it’s a secret he wants to keep.

“Well of course, any friend of Anth- I mean Angel Dust, is a friend of mine.” The sibling sense kicked in before I even had to turn around. Anthony just rolled his eyes at me. Quick movements led to my shoe being thrown at Anthony’s head, smacking him hard enough in the face to send him backwards.

“Che cazzo!” (What the fuck!) My head snapped 180 with my body facing Charlie still. Through a clenched jaw and wide wild eyes, I lectured Anthony under my breath.

“Schialla, stronzo.” (Chill out, Asshole.) He immediately stopped, slouching against the wall. Anthony muttered under his breath but at least it wasn’t as disrespectful and obvious. Husk found it amusing enough to stifle a laugh with Vaggie.

“So, what’s the war plans?” I beamed, excited to get murderous for a good cause. Those exorcists killed a lot of my people, pissing off my whole team and myself tremendously. That was our family they were murdering brutally, just so they could have their sick fun and somehow remain in the sky. That was something Charlie and I could get along with.

“About that…” Lucifer awkwardly smiled. You’ve got to be joking. They have nothing? My eyes glanced at Alastor, who was still staring at me. I narrowed my eyes on him, silently asking “you serious right now?” to which he looked amused and shrugged. Bastardo, it’s your skin also being risked here.

“Okay, what do I have to work with here?” Charlie reappeared with a stack of papers and dropped them into my hands. I blinked a couple times, gazing through the words scribbled on the papers. These were lousy attempts at battle plans or any sort of war plans.

“I’ll revise these and have them back to you soon. I do request to have somewhere nearby for me to stay, along with my members. Fifteen minutes away isn’t a good distance, doll.” Observing Charlie’s timid behavior. Lucifer peered behind his daughter, gauging my reaction to everything. I had my work cut out for me but any excuse to be involved in Anthony’s life again was something I was willing to risk everything for.

“Consider it done. Let’s take a stroll so I can show you where it’s at.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and excitedly held his arm out for me to take to walk with him. He was always trying his best to put on a front, but I know he’s still struggling. I mean we still meet and talk about ways for him to mend the broken relationship with Charlie. But, it feels like another negative energy was coming from where my other ally stood. When I turned to Alastor, his eyes were still locked onto my figure, wide and slightly terrifying. The look alone ran a chill down my spine. Why did it feel more exciting than terrifying?

“You coming?” Lucifer glanced backwards towards me, forcing me to peel my eyes away from the enticing ruby set still locked on me. Instead, my eyes met the pale yellow and glowing red set. The tension felt high, pushing me to leave immediately.

“Yeah, of course. Just taking the place in since I’ll be staying here, and potentially dying here.” I laughed sadistically as Lucifer frowned and elbowed me.

“Not funny. There is no way myself, or any of us, will let something happen to you. Unless you get redeemed, too.” He winked trying to sell the confidence he could get me into heaven with my brother. I doubt it, but no harm in trying.

Following down the hall, around back, there was a warehouse building directly behind it. It mirrored the looks of my warehouses that have been distributed in my territories. I could easily move a little over half of my people within this building, comfortably. The smile slowly dragged across my face before I could stop it. Lucifer was smiling back at me, satisfied.

“Che bello…” (How beautiful…) My whole body relaxed, feeling almost unnatural. I didn’t know how to handle how I was feeling at all. All this weight that’s been pushing down on my shoulders just lifted enough for me to breathe, to relax. No one has ever done something this tremendous for me. I could feel tears brimming my eyes, ripping me out of that relaxed feeling. Instead, it was replaced with a sense of dread and need to feel that relaxed again. Lucifer was smiling softly, hand snaked around my waist as he waited.

“You want to go see the inside, (Y/n).” A small smile remained as I allowed his arm to remain, feeling natural and familiar, but so wrong.

“We can’t keep doing this, Angel. We both know that!” Lucifer was having one of his episodes again. The thoughts of Lilith coming back any second, just to see him fucking some other girl and actually leave him type of thoughts. Not that I could ever understand what he’s going through and show sympathy, but rather I’m getting tired of fixing what I didn’t break.

“Listen, Luci, I know.” He stopped. In the poorly lit room, I could see his eyes glowing and a faint outline of his body shape standing on the opposite side of the bed. He knows what’s coming.

“What do you mean?” His eyes pierced mine. A hard stare swimming with all sorts of emotions. Panic was in the center of the tornado.

“Luci, we can’t keep having the same conversation every other day.” I sighed as he remained frozen in fear. One wrong move and I can destroy everything.

“I know you still love her. Nothing could ever change that. You have spent all of eternity together, created a beautiful daughter, ruled over hell. It’s not something you can just fix in seven years, and I never expected you to.” His eye twitched as his black hands started to curl in, making fists. I watched carefully how his breathing was now heavier. I didn’t want to make a bigger mess but I can’t mindlessly try and heal him again, no matter how badly I wanted to.

“What I did expect was some sort of progress to prove that you were learning to let go and love me.” It felt selfish how I was wording it, but my own abandonment issues were strangling me. It hurt to breathe and my vision was blurring. He huffed out, about to deny everything I’m saying.

“I know you love me, but not as much as Lilith.” My eyes froze on Lucifer in panic. Merda. (Shit.) I said her name.

“Don’t you ever say her name. Especially not like that. If she loved me, she wouldn’t have disappeared, abandoned me or Charlie. You don’t know anything.” I knew he didn’t mean it at the moment but my mom taught me one thing, never let a man tell you twice he doesn’t want you.

“It’s over, Lucifer.” I moved slowly to the door, refusing to turn my back to him and his eerie glowing eyes in the dark room, shutting the door quietly and carefully behind me.

During my walk back, it felt like a walk of shame. Opening and closing my door as quietly as possible to my office, sliding my back down the door. There is where I sobbed for hours, grieving a relationship where I actually felt loved, relaxed, and free from the impact my father has held on me all my life. This is where I vowed to never allow myself to get emotionally attached again.

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(As always, the characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over! I love to hear feedback! I will also gladly try to write things for my supporters! I have put a LOT of research and planning into this series! I also researched Italian to try and make it as real as possible! Thank you for the love and I hope y’all have a great day! <3 :)!)

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Tag List:

@pooka167 @serenity-songbird @readergirlstuff @nishayuro @lovingyeet @genderlessdude92 @slytherin4ever @random-3455 @mo-0-o @lucifers-silhouette @sadnessiscoldtea @idonthaveanameforthisacc @marxo5 @emonerdwinchester @macehysteria @tsukiko26

Tagged who I could, some it wouldn’t allow :(

[blueicequeen19]

The Rich & The Damned

Warnings: unprotected sex, implied sexy accountant, public car sex, choking

How did I get here? Men usually paid annual salaries just to get a few minutes of my time but now.. I’m in the front seat of a Rolls Royce for free. With a man who doesn’t respect what I do. Who wants me to quit my job and be his good little wife. He infuriates me. He belittles me. But fuck.. his touch turns my PHD brain into mush.

I’m good at what I do. I recognize my skill set and I know how to play powerful men. I’ve paid my bills with cash in advance for years and put myself through Ivy League schools that only care about last names. I don’t have a big name but I have loaded pockets and that speaks volumes. So why the fuck am I on this man’s lap, dying for a scrap of attention when he can no longer be bothered to come inside to see me?

“Fuck me.. please.. I need you.” I whine, tugging on his hair as he peppers kisses along my throat and collar bone, large hands palming my thong-clad ass and rock me against his erection.

“Come home with me.” He growls, taking a chunk of my flesh between his teeth and making me hiss as I shove his head away.

“I told you not to mark me.” I snap, glaring at him even as his blue eyes shine with amusement and mischief.

“And I told you if you wanted back in my bed, you had to stay off the pole.” His words sting, even with the red lipstick smeared across his mouth. If anything the smirk on his face combined with the red smear made him look even more sinister.

I pull my lips back in a snarl as his hand slides between my parted things to cup my pussy. I slap at his hand but his free hand finds my throat, pushing my back against the dash and squeezing hard.

“You’re not for them.” He growls, tucking my thong to the side before shoving two then three fingers inside me. My eyes roll back into my head, my pussy gushing in his hand as he strokes my sweet spot.

“I-I’m not yours.” I rasp, riding his hand like a desperate whore. God, I’d agree to anything right now if it meant I got to feel his fat cock inside me again. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen to my brain as he squeezes even harder.

“Don’t lie to me. You’re not very good at it.” His words light me on fire again, making me dig my nails into his chest as I try to lift off his hand. The hand around my throat drops to my chest and he yanks my bra down so my breasts spill out.

“I guess we’re both liars.” I purr, just as his hot mouth closes around my nipple and sucks hard. I was so close to my orgasm I could feel it in my toes. I throw my head back as I shamelessly ride his hand but I desperately craved his cock instead.

“Maybe if you’d stop treating me like one of your customers.” I yelp when he’s teeth sink into my nipple so hard, I know there’s blood. Or the very least, a new piercing. His fingers leave me aching and needy in their retreat.

“Stop treating me like a whore and maybe I’d treat you like someone who actually means something to me.” I bite back, shoving his chest hard as I hear the sound of his belt buckle. When his cock springs free between us it takes everything in me to keep my composure. His large hand wraps around the thick shaft as he strokes himself almost lazily. The tip leaked clear drops of precum that I desperately wanted to chase with my tongue.

“Fuck me in my bed and maybe I’ll believe you’re somebody else.”

I was so fucking weak for him. I wanted to choke on it even if it meant I didn’t get off. If he fucked my throat until it was raw, I’d say thank you like the obedient slut I was. But only for him. Only ever him. So why didn’t he get that? I’d fuck him in front of every single client I had just to show him I was his. He could lead me around on a leash if that’s what it took.

I reached back to unhook my bra and let it fall to the floor before wrapping my hand around his on his cock. I savor the way his eyes become hooded and his breathing becomes labored just from my touch. I loved that he was as weak as I was.

“You—,” I brought my other hand up to his throat, squeezing the best I could until his eyes fully dilated while I lifted myself up on his thighs, “—don’t own—,” I notched his thick cock at my entrance and sank down one excruciating inch, “—me.” I sank down the rest of the way, my body welcoming the pain and stretch of him as his breathy moans met my ears.

It was always in moments like these where it became obvious that Rafe Cameron was fucking mine.

[doromoni]

Clash of Champions | MV1 , LH44

Act 2. Part 5 : The Former and Forever Ally

Ships : Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader, Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama, Angst, Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters, Manipulation, Blackmail, Swearing

A/N : Its been a while, my luvs! Here’s the long awaited update~ I’m still getting back into writing, pls be lenient with meeee.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 goes off track and only one will reign victorious.

< Previous Masterlist Next >

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The ringing of a phone sounded all over the driver room of the Dutch Red Bull pilot. It rang and rang nonstop, as Max's jaw tensed in agitation.

The caramel color of hard liquor danced inside the half empty glass that he nursed.

On the next ring, a voice had finally answered the call.

“What do you want, Verstappen?” The voice of an unnerved Toto Wolff resounded throughout the room.

“You haven’t been holding up on your end of the deal, Wolff. Tell me why is your driver still chasing after my girl? You couldn’t even handle reeling in your pet? How pathetic of a principal can you be?” Max uttered each word with carelessness laced with venom.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, VERSTAPPEN!! You’re the one who’s not holding your end of the deal! You said that you’ll take care of the girl?! Then why the fuck is she winning?! ” The anger and frustration behind Toto’s voice was palpable even to a child.

Toto was in distress, he was facing a crisis at the loss of Y/N L/N. His entire team was at a loss end at the continuous success that the girl brought … but now it was to the rival team. Toto cannot stand the fact that he is being humiliated by a girl half his age.

“I never said that I’ll throw my chances on the championship, now did I? I said that I’ll take Y/N out of your hands— and I did. It’s not my fault that she has actual talent. Now be a good team principal and do something about your lack. Get Hamilton on a leash and away from Y/N” Max had then downed the rest of his drink in one gulp, loudly placing it down on the adjacent table.

“Oh, I’ll do something alright.”

Toto seethed as he dropped the call.

“Prepare the paperwork and the video” Toto uttered to his assistant.

Oh, he’ll do something alright.

***

No one can deny that your presence demanded attention with each step, eyes gravitated towards you, so you lifted your head high in confidence — even when you felt fear and anxiety all over. The enemy shall not see you falter, and in this reality — many are watching to see you fall.

Your footsteps hit the pavement with fervor, each step as sure as the last one. You were clad in black and blue, proudly dressed in your new team uniform adorned with your signature red-bottomed heels as you walked in the paddock towards where the Sky commentators were stationed for the interview.

You had Red Bull’s PR team guiding you to your destination. As the distance shortened, you felt your heartbeat pounding—you could hear it in your ears and feel it in your throat. Nervous was an understatement to what you were feeling right now.

If it were just a regular interview with the other commentators, it would be a breeze. But with Nico present, this was entirely different … it was personal.

No matter how much you’ve grown, matured, or achieved when you faced Nico it all didn’t matter — you always felt like the rookie junior engineer needing guidance. Nico was always your big brother and it broke your heart when your relationship fell apart.

Your eyes adjusted to the sight of them seated in the middle of the busy paddock, mics on hand. With a deep breath, you plastered on a smile and went near the commentators. Natalie Pinkman was the first to notice your appearance.

“Ah! And here she is! Everyone let’s welcome, Red Bull Head Race Engineer, Y/N L/N” The rest of the crew’s attention went towards you with soft smiles present. The reporters consisted of the people you had great respect for; David Croft, Jenson Button, Natalie Pinkham, and of course Nico Rosberg.

“Hello everyone! Thank you for having me~ always an honor to chat with you” You replied with all the grace that you could muster because honestly, you felt the cold sweat dripping down your neck.

“Of course, Of course, Y/N! Well, last time you were with us you were wearing black and silver. What caused the move if we could ask” Crofty’s question caught you off guard, you weren’t going to lie. You expected it, but not so early on.

“Oh come on Crofty! Let the girl breathe~ she just won her 2nd race with Max for goodness' sake. Congratulations by the way” Nico suddenly interjected. Warmth filled you as Nico came to your aid. You gazed at him with thankfulness — and he gave you a knowing look. Maybe patching things up with the Ex-Merc driver wouldn’t be too hard.

“Thank you, Nico! Yeah, Max and I work great together I’ve got to say. He is very straightforward in giving his insights and that helps a lot” You replied with a smile

“And to answer your question Crofty~ yeah I’ve retired the black and silver uniform for sure! The team and I both wanted different things and It was to my best benefit to find what I needed somewhere else and I guess it was with Red Bull. “ you explained with such restraint that you were sure that Red Bull’s PR would be proud. If it weren’t for them and the NDA you’ve signed with Mercedes — you would’ve held nothing back.

“But in the middle of the season? with so much friction between the two teams fighting for the championship. That’s a crazy move” Jenson commented, a wide grin spread on your lips. Boy crazy was only half of it.

“You call it crazy, but I think what Y/N did here takes guts and bravery. Take it from me, my retirement was one of the best decisions I’ve made. I couldn’t run faster ” Nico butted in with a snicker. You couldn’t help but giggle — the shared Mercedes trauma and resentment unites you both. One thing was true, both of you were free from their clutches

“I presume that a lot had happened in the background then” Natalie tried to push further to which you only laughed and gave her a shrug.

“Alright, alright ~ let’s now talk racing. Y/N today’s strategy was flawless. Did you factor in everything or was luck a part of it?” Crofty segwayed smoothly.

From then on the interview ran as smoothly as it could till it finished and they had to let you go.

It was time to talk to Nico one-on-one, but what you didn’t expect was Nico holding on to your wrist and pulling you towards Sky’s office.

“Nico?? What is going on? Why am I here? Am I even allowed in here??” You were filled with questions as the German pulled you into his office.

He was dead silent at first then suddenly he pulled you into his embrace. Shock coursed through your veins but like muscle memory, your arms found their way around Nico.

“What is happening? Nico?” You were so confused. You were made to believe that Nico had hated you — but now everything was as foggy as the weather.

“ Holy Fuck, Y/N! Oh how much I’ve missed you” Nico muttered in your hair.

You were dazed, your mind was reeling and you had no concept of reality at this very moment. You thought that you were about to be chewed out and criticized by Nico and be told that his being nice was just a facade for the world.

Words couldn’t come out of your mouth as you felt hot tears building up. Nico’s hug felt like home and security — you finally felt like you didn’t need to pretend to be the always strong, independent and put-together Y/N the world expected you to be.

You let yourself slump in his hold and clutch him even tighter to you.

“Oh, you poor thing. What have they done to you” As you hear his words , you can’t hold back your tears and they fall uncontrollably. Your breath hitched with every inhale you took.

“N-nico I’m so sorry. I- I should’ve listened to you! I-im so sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt you” You felt Nico’s hand soothingly caressed your hair.

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago, Bärchen.” Nico hadn’t called you his little bear for so long that when you heard it once more you bawled even harder.

“Okay, let’s get you some water and we’ll talk, yeah?” Nico asked gently as he put you at arm's length— trying to stop himself from laughing at your snotty and red face.

You slapped his arm playfully and then nodded in agreement as you let Nico guide you to his couch.

You let yourself survey his office — and one thing caught your attention. It was the picture of a younger version of you and Nico on his first win with you being his junior engineer. You couldn't help but smile at the memories.

It was even before Lewis came to Mercedes. You were just a rookie and Nico fought his team into letting you into his engineer team for the race.

Nico shouted in joy on his radio thanking everyone including you. Nico had given you special recognition and that was when the world had started to know the name Y/N L/N.

A cold bottle brought you out of your recollection of the past. You took the bottle and a snack that Nico handed you with a thank you and a grin. He still kept your favorite snacks in stock, you truly missed your big brother.

“So tell me Bärchen, how have you been? Finally out of hell’s clutches. Congratulations on that by the way” Nico tipped his bottle towards you.

Nico had never resented Mercedes before… well when you were with him anyway. But when you were suddenly put into Lewis’ team — Nico had turned a 180.

“I have so much to tell you. And you are so right in leaving that hell hole when you won the championship. I wished you dragged me away with you” you said in a joking sarcastic manner — however you meant every single word.

You were mid-chew, when you saw Nico’s face suddenly fell and turned cold. You felt your spine tingle and goosebumps ran through your skin. Nico then faced you with such seriousness that you turned nervous to the bone

“N-nico? Did I say anything wrong?”

“Listen carefully Y/N. That place is a viper den and I would’ve done anything to get out of there. I did try to move teams and I was planning to take you with me. But Toto knew and they transferred you to Lewis. “ Nico held your hand as his eyes were turning red from the tears building up. You were speechless yourself and you could only listen to what Nico had to say.

“They made me avoid and cut ties with you … I know it was cowardly of me but I didn’t know what to do, they threatened your job and your future Bärchen. They were ready to block everything and make sure your future in Formula 1 would not lead to anything. I know your dreams my Bärchen… so I did as they asked” Tears were now starting to fall on the German’s eyes — you could see the pain and emotion through them that you couldn’t hold your tears anymore.

You clutched Nico’s hand tighter, urging him to go on. You felt shame and mortification fill your body, after everything that has happened it was all because Nico was trying to protect you and your future.

“Mercedes made me an ultimatum… I get to leave the team and they would leave you alone if I won a championship” A gasp flew out of your mouth. You thought that you knew everything that had happened— yet you were as blind as a bat at the length of monstrosity that they were willing to go through. They made you believe that Nico was out to get Lewis out of jealousy but all his desperation was for freedom; not only his but for yours as well.

“But … when I did win, they made another exit clause. It was that I could not contact you when you still worked for them.” With a heavy sigh, Nico then met your eyes.

Your lips quivered with disbelief— you thought that Nico had avoided you because of hatred. But it was all because of the despicability of Toto and Mercedes.

“Nico, I’m so sorry. After everything you’ve done for me … and I only hurt you in the end. I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I don’t deserve you” You cried your heart out and Nico pulled you back into his embrace.

“Hey, none of that! I’ve forgiven you and I know that you didn’t mean any of it. You were blinded by love and false information, a very deadly combo and I understand. But we both finally came out unscathed right?” Nico joked. You couldn't help but snicker, yeah right unscathed. Both of you knew how much they’d damaged the two of you.

“Yup! Absolutely, completely healthy and undamaged. “ you tried to joke to lighten the blow “But Nico, what they’ve done to you was abysmal! They deserve to be sued or something! What Mercedes did was blackmail.”

“Oh! You tell me? You’ve stayed longer than me! Imagine putting up with abuse for more years— couldn’t be me.” The two of you laughed at the shared trauma.

“But, Y/N are you okay now? Is Red Bull treating you right?”

“So far, yeah. I never knew that a motorhome could be like that. It made me realize how much toxicity ran in Mercedes” You shook your head out of disbelief.

“I could see you smiling more, and you’re also glowing my bärchen! So you’re now with Max, yeah?” Nico suddenly transformed into the diva that he is and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes affectionately.

“ Thank you, kind sir. And yes, I am seeing Max; and I am happy! Max encouraged me to talk to you, y’know. And yes he also knows about the Lewis drama, he got to experience it firsthand during the grid party”

“Ah! I’ve heard about that~ great job handling Toto by the way. And I did warn you about Hamilton, did I not? But I gotta say as your self-proclaimed brother, you should also be wary of Max… well drivers in general” Nico said catching you off guard. Prompting you to ask why out of curiosity.

“There is just something about us that drives us to extreme extents to get what we want — I could bet that the majority of us are ready to give our lives or more just to achieve it. The question is … what does Max want?” Nico’s question made you think.

What did Max want? You were sure that being a world champion was one of his priorities… but he was not using you as Lewis had done. Right?

Your dilemma was cut short when even pressing matters had fallen on your plate in the form of a heavy succession of knocks heard through Nico’s door.

“Ms. Y/N? Are you in here?” You looked at Nico to which he only shrugged and gave you a look of cluelessness

“Yes, I’m here please come in” You muttered aloud. And to your surprise, it was a frazzled Red Bull staff who was clutching her iPad as she tried to catch her breath.

“Ms. Y/N your presence is needed at Red Bull ASAP. Mr. Horner has summoned you urgently”

“To what is this about?” You questioned further

“Mercedes has filed a lawsuit on you for data and contract breach”

“WHAT?!”

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[l0ngschl0ngking]

Not the person I once knew

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: past lovers reunite after many years…and then what?

warnings: SMUT (vaginal fingering, oral-m!receiving, protected p in v -i know, shocker-, biting, choking, overstimulation al liiil’ possesive!Joel -just a smudge-), ANGST, mentions of death and shootings, thoughts and mentions of suicide, cursing, Joel and reader being two idiots that cannot express how they feel and…fluff because I can’t help myself

word count: 10k ( yeah the zero is supposed to be there)

A/N: I am too jumping on the Joel Miller train. This fic actually has plot and it’s not just a straight up porn which is shocking :D. Also I am actually crazy - I have a week off from school and that’s why I write that much. I can’t stop - literally.

Your feet were aching – you've had to walk at least 20 or so kilometers by now – and the cold was biting your skin most unpleasantly – finding a good winter coat or any kind of winter clothes was not easy in this fucking Outbreak. You started to feel thirsty and tired and all you wanted to do was lie down and fall asleep – maybe death by cold wasn't the worst fate you could've endured.

Your mind quickly flashing to your group – you've killed most of them, the snarling of them still ringing in your ears, the smell of gunpowder lingering in your nose. You've done what you had to do – one of your guys got infected and infected almost all of the other ones – the ones that survived either left to fend for themselves which you thought was the stupidest thing ever or killed themselves – fucking cowards. Their blood stuck to you like a second skin – the smell of iron making you uneasy when you started to think about it. Maybe you should've killed yourself too. What was the point in surviving now, anyways? You didn't have a group anymore and you had no supplies anymore. Sure, you could eat the snow for water intake and try to hunt something – but you felt too exhausted for that. Your knees buckling – you fall into the cold snow – you hear something then. Voices, the sound of horses neighing and a…dog? Were you starting to hallucinate? You weren't though – the sounds getting louder and clearer – you quickly scramble to your feet and grab your pistol but you pale when you see how many of them are there – all of them looking more sure of themselves on their horses and with their guns raised on you. The dog barks at you, snapping and growling and you've never thought that you might die getting robbed and then mauled by a dog – though they did not look like raiders. Their clothes look clean and kind of new – compared to your worn and torn-off jacket at least.

Someone says something but you don't hear them – your gaze focused on the dog, your pistol pointing at the handler. You've always been a dog lover – before the Outbreak at least – but this didn't look like he wanted to be friends with you.

“Hey, I said drop your fucking gun or I'll shoot your head clean off!” One of them says – repeating himself – and you gulp dryly doing what he says – you were a fighter but also you weren't stupid. There were too many of them and even if you had good aim you wouldn't be able to shoot your way out of this. The guy who addressed you squints his eyes when you lower the gun to your feet – he gestures for you to kick it further and you reluctantly do so.

“Listen here, cowboy,” you sass when you see the cowboy hat on his head, “I was just passing by – my group is dead, they got infected and-” at your words everyone grips their guns a little tighter – the person holding the dog loosening the leash a little in his hands. “Whoa, whoa, I am not infected, I swear.” You sound desperate and you are – you probably should have blown your fucking head of yourself when you still had the chance.

“We will see about that.” One of them gruffs – you guess it's the one closest to you, the one on your right – and you have the urge to break his nose. Yeah, if you were in their position you wouldn't trust someone either but you are not – and you feel pretty fucking terrified – even after years of survival. “Release Buckley!” The first one – the one with that stupid cowboy hat – says and then you see the big ball of fur running towards you. Closing your eyes you pray that he can't smell any jerky on you – you know so he could nibble on your fingers a little and get a taste of you. The pain of teeth digging into you as you expected doesn't come and so you open one of your eyes – you see that the dog's tail is wagging and a grin slowly makes its way on your face. You slowly bend one of your knees - you are not getting any younger and pain shoots through your leg – but you ignore it and start petting Buckley. He's not that bad when he doesn't look like he wants to eat you alive.

A high-pitched whistle cuts through the air and then he is gone – heeling opposite to the person who previously handled him. They don't say anything more and start to slowly turn their horses on their heels when an idea comes to your mind – they look well-fed and clean, and you feel hungry enough that you would eat practically anything. The exhaustion creeps back up at you after the adrenaline wears off and you shout a quick “hey” - their heads turning in question. You offer them a little smile, kicking your feet into the snow and putting your gun back.

“You guys have a place for one more hungry stomach? I just want something to eat – maybe a few hours of sleep and then I'll be out of your hair. Pinky promise.” you grin and show off your pinky finger – you've always had a way of trying to make the situation lighter than it really was and now that you know they don't pose any tŕeal threat – for now at least – you get your hopes up. All of them share a quick look before the one with that stupid cowboy hat – who wears something like that in the middle of the winter – nods and your grin spreads wider. You grab one of the hands that reach towards you to pull you on a horse – and when you are finally on its back, you stroke its muscular thigh lightly. Maybe this day was not so bad after all.

When you arrive at Jackson it is almost noon. You raise both brows when you see the wooden heavy gait in front of you– the people patrolling their stations curiously looking back at you. When you asked them if you could come with them you didn't expect a whole fucking community of people in a small town with electricity and other necessities – your eyes wandering to the various small buildings that look like shops more so than something where you could take shelter. When you asked them if you could come with them you expected a flimsy building without windows in which you would hardly make a fire. You aren't surprised anymore why they acted so tough – families lived here, old couples and people of various ages. A small flicker of hope goes straight to your heart – maybe you could stay here – you were tired of fighting to live another day. And this looked like a great fucking place.

The guy that was riding with you dismounts the horse – helping you do the same and you pet the animal – thanking it quietly. People don't really look at you – at least not so openly as the ones that were taking patrol – they are doing their own things – some of them just crossing the street, others helping to build a new building – you wonder what that is going to be for – a group of kids runs right in front of you squeaking. They play and your heart aches – it's the first time you've seen kids be so carefree since the outbreak happened – it looked like their childhood was not ripped from them. One of the kids – a young girl no older than 6 – looks almost like Sarah – curly wild hair, big eyes and the cutest dimples you've seen adorn her face – and you feel a pang of hurt in your heart. Reaching for your necklace you squeeze the ring that is on it tightly in your palm – Joel and Sarah would love it here.

The man you've called cowboy asks you something and you turn to look at him – he's quite handsome but he is a lot younger than you for sure – he has this boyish innocence still written all over his face when you pin him with your stare. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I will accompany you to the canteen. Tommy is already waiting there, a few men that were with us already informed him about your arrival.” He sounds formal. Too formal – as if his words were learned. Like a little boy scout you think. Images of Tommy Miller through your mind and you grin fondly at the memory of him – you could never imagine him being a leader of a community like this.

“Lead the way, cowboy.” You don't miss the way that the boy's ears gain a darker shade of red and so do his cheeks.

When he leads you to the canteen – you can't believe that they have a real freakin canteen here – you look around because you can't take it all in at once. Jackson looks like an old town from some kind of cowboy movie – maybe that's why the boy wears the stupid hat. A few people on the way politely greet you and you greet them back. When you arrive at the canteen the bo points to the man that has his back turned back on you and before you can thank him – has gone. The lights adorning the room are a nice touch – it looks old school here – old wooden chairs, and tables with plaid cloth scattered across the room, and you can see an old Coca-Cola freezer from the corner of your eye. Your steps are much lighter – even though you are still hungry and tired you're at least not cold anymore, the temperature here is not as cold as outside. The man that cowboy pointed at talks to someone – an older lady with a high-pitched voice with pretty blue eyes – and you wait before they end their conversation, standing to the side. The lady whispers something to him – you can see her lips moving but don't hear anything – and then the man turns and looks at you. If you have something in your hands right now you would for sure drop it.

Tommy fucking Miller was standing a few steps away from you. He looked older – of course – and his hair was a lot longer than you'd last seen him, the mustache he was sporting suited him. You saw the way he scrunched his brows together – as if trying to categorize you to one of his people – and then you saw the realization cross his eyes. His hands drop to his sides and when you whisper a hushed “Tommy ?” he was right in front of you – hugging you close to his body. The hug was desperate and you felt the tears you held back falling from your eyes – the palms of his hands soothingly caressing your back. After a few minutes or was it seconds he pulls away from you and you have so many questions but none of it comes out of your mouth – the lump in your throat not allowing you to. If he was here – alive and breathing – did it mean Sarah and Joel were here too? Or…No, you couldn't think that way. You had buried the memories of Millers a long time ago – but now, seeing Tommy here? He gave you hope.

“Wow-uh, I’d thought I’d never see you again, Doc.” The small nickname of endearment falling from his lips makes you sob and he softly grabs your elbow so you two could sit at the nearest table – a young woman quickly rushes to your side when Tommy gestures with his hand for her to come and he whispers something in her ear – just now you can see the few people scattered around staring at you curiously.

“Tommy-I-is-is Joel here too? And Sarah.” You grab the ring on your necklace tighter – you've been dreaming of this moment for too long – and he looks at your hand noticing the shiny thing attached to the chain on your neck. The engagement ring Joel proposed with.

“I-uh- I'll tell you everything but you need to eat first, Doc, alright?” You don't feel hungry anymore but you nod – noticing the look in Tommy's eyes makes you uneasy – but he offers you a smile and you offer one right back reaching for his hand – squeezing his hand in yours.

You sit and listen to Tommy talk – you aren't sure if minutes pass or hours – but your eyes nurn from all the crying and you feel your stomach drop with your heart multiple times during Tommy's story telling how he – they – come up here. How Joel was desperate to contact you – you were in Houston on a quick trip with your friends at the time, to look for the wedding dress – seems stupid when you think about it right now. How they killed Sarah – your sweet little Sarah, you thought of her as your own, you've lived with her for almost three years and that girl adored you and you adored her right back – you cannot imagine the pain Joel felt when she was killed right in his arms. Tommy tells you about Joel's suicide attempt too – how he didn't see any purpose in life when both his daughter and fiance were not around anymore, he didn't know if you were still alive. He tells you about his wife, how he got here – how he joined Fireflies for a while and you have the urge to punch him when he says that – you have a distaste for that motherfuckers. He tells you about Ellie – not much though – but enough to figure out Joel cares about that girl a whole lot. And most importantly he announces to you that both of them are here and you almost jump out of your chair to go and find him – but Tommy quickly grabs your elbow and stops you. He tells you about how Joel changed a lot – but so have you. When you tell him that he just shakes his head – you don't understand.

“Doc, I don't know how he will react seeing you after 20 years. He is not the person you once knew. I think you should sleep on it first.”

You want to protest but the sound of the door opening and the rushed call of “Tommy!” stops you. You look at who interrupted you and it's a girl close to Sarah's age. She has short brown hair tightened up in a ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. She has a scar across her brow and when she stops next to Tommy and mutters a quick fuck – you know it's Ellie. Joel's Ellie.

“I heard there's someone new in town and I was super curious – Joel told me to wait for him but then he started playing on his stupid guitar and-” he still plays on a guitar. That pulls a little smile on your face. The girl seems like she didn't even notice you and Tommy wants to open his mouth when Ellie seems finally acknowledges your presence.”Fuck, it's you. You're the new person.” Tommy scolds Ellie when she curses but you just grin at her attitude and seemingly “I want to know and also do know everything ” mindset.

“It's okay, Tommy. God knows I curse a lot too. Hi, Ellie.” She seems confused about how you know her name and you've missed talking to kids – God you have missed your job so much, after all, that's how you and Joel met. Sarah broke her leg and when the nurse told him you could finally see them he was more nervous than a mouse being chased by a cat. He was so worried about Sarah that he didn't even notice you ogled him after you were all done with Sarah – but of course, she did. She was a sweet kind and when they left she muttered to her father he should definitely ask you on a date – he just shook his head and told her not to be silly – you were too pretty for him. Turned out you lived close by and from their visit you've started seeing both Sarah and Joel a lot more outside your work. It was you who finally got the courage to ask the hot single dad out – you will never forget how he gaped at you seemingly not trusting his own voice to answer so Sarah quickly jabbed him in the ribs and said that: “he would very much like that” - he was talking her ear off about you even unknowingly so.

“Okay, how the fuck do you know my name and who are you because it seems you and Tommy are big buddies here. Just so you know he has a wife.” She says matter of factly and you think you like this kid a lot – you can see why Joel does too.

Tommy clears his throat. “Ellie, this is Doc.” He says and he doesn't even notices the fact he called you your nickname – you see the way Ellie's brows scrunch up in confusion. “She's a long lost…family.”

“What, are you like their sister? If so you for sure received all the pretty genes – though Joel never said anything about ever having a sister.” She's a lot more talkative than you thought she would be and you think it might be because she finally has a place that she can call home and not worry about stranger danger – at least not that much.

You chuckle. “No I am…” you look at Tommy to see if you can say who you are – though you don't know if Joel still thinks of you as his fiánce – after all, it's been 20 years. He just nods. “ I am Joel's fiánce” You can hear her gasp and say “holy shit!?” - most of the people in the canteen turn their heads to throw her a nasty look. Well, that much at being discreet

“You are Joel's dead fiánce? You don't seem that dead to me.” She mutters that last sentence as she starts inspecting your face and scrunches her nose at you. “You smell.” She states matter of factly and Tommy scolds her once again but you just shrug your shoulders at him.

“It's true, Tommy. No harm in being honest.” If Ellie knows about you it meant she must know about Sarah too and it also must mean Joel talked about you to her. That fact makes your heart build a little faster. Maybe…maybe he still cares about you – logically you know he does, he was a very loyal man back in the days too – but still, it makes your cheeks heat up.

“Joel will lose his mind! You have to see him like right now!” she sounds enthusiastic and you are too – seeing Joel after 20 years? You've been dreaming of this moment for so long…Tommy interrupts your little fantasy – clapping his hands he throws a look at Ellie and smiles at you.

“I think it's for the best if you showered first, Doc As Ellie said you don't smell so fresh and maybe a reunion with your husband would be a lot happier if you don't make his whole house stink, eh?” You regularly nod and when Tommy says you can shower at his Ellie says she will come with you – she asks you a lot of questions about yourself – where you grew up, what did you do before Outbreak, where did the nickname Doc come from – she says you are super cool when you answer her you were pediatrician before everything went to shit. She asks how you and Joel met and you answer her truthfully – you've never liked lying. Tommy just walks next to you and listens – you look at him from the corner of your eyes and see he is thinking – he always has this look on his face – his brows are scrunched and his lips are set in a thin line. Joel has that look too when he thinks about something or concentrates – it was your favorite quirk of his.

The walk is quick and you meet Mariah – she's sweet – she offers you clean clothes and when she closes the door behind you so you can take a shower – you exhale loudly. Knowing that Joel is here and that you will see him made your stomach twist in anticipation. Ellie hangs back downstairs with Mariah and Tommy and you can hear their hushed voices – you are pretty sure that they are talking about you. You want to quickly hop in the shower but when you do it's like heaven on earth – the first spray of hot water hits your sore muscles and you feel yourself start to relax. You haven't had a hot shower since the beginning of the outbreak and you missed it so badly. You try to scrub all of the grime and blood from your skin and hair but it seems like mission impossible and you stay in the shower for far longer than the 10 minutes you said. When you step out of the shower you look at yourself in the mirror – at your face and the bags under your eyes, at your body scattered with scars and the thought of Joel not liking what he will see quickly flashes through your mind but you push it away just as quickly as it came – this was a different world. You wrap the fluffy towel around yourself and sigh in bliss. The clothes Mariah gave you fit you and maybe it's that much of your style – but they are clean and smell like they were just pulled fresh out of the washing machine. When you come down quickly the banter stops between the three of them and you can hear Ellie say that “great, you finally don't look like shit”. She grabs you by the arm and leaves the house – dragging you through the streets of Jackson. She walks quickly for someone so small and you try to keep up with her – the new winter coat you wear is flowing behind you with the speed you are walking.

When you arrive at the house Joel and Ellie live you try to catch your breath muttering that you are not as young as you used to be – Ellie just rolls her eyes and steps on the porch which creaks under her footsteps. You like the house – at least from the outside – you imagined something like that when you planned to move with Sarah and Joel after you two marry.

“So, we are here. Take off your boots when you come in – Joel hates cleaning up the snow I leave behind when I come in and walk in boots through the house.” You nod but then she is pushing you in and you throw her a scared look.

“You are not coming with me?” You hiss and she just shakes her head as if it was the stupidest thing she has ever heard.

“No. Enjoy your time together. I don't want to hear you two fucking.” And then she shuts the doors behind you with a force you didn't even know a little kid could possess. Right after she do you hear a gruffed “Ellie I told you to wait for me we talked about -” he stops mid-sentence and you feel like all of the air in your lungs leaves your body when comes into the view, He looks older – but somehow more handsome then you've last seen him. The grey in his hair suits him, and the patches in his beard are now more prominent than they were before. He looks good – more than good. You don't know what to do or say. The two of you just keep staring at each other – he looks you up and down and you see his breath becoming quicker. You're the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, Joel. Long time no see.” You laugh quietly and the tears in your eyes leave your vision blurred. You're the one who moves first too and you hug him tightly – he changed over the years, he's softer and he doesn't smell like he did back in the days – but there's something about his presence that feels entirely like Joel and you grab onto his plaid shirt – squeezing it in your fists. You don't want to pull away – you never want to leave him again but when you feel him not responding to the hug you slowly pull away and look into his eyes. He's scanning your face and now you see tears in his eyes as well. The weight of his calloused hands is more than welcome and you close your eyes when you feel his thumbs slowly stroke your cheeks. The small escapes your throat and you nod when he quietly – oh, so quietly murmurs - “you are alive.”. You stay like that for a while – both of you don't dare to move in case this was all just a dream. You want to hug him again – to feel him against you but when you try to pull him closer to you he unexpectedly quickly pulls you away. You look at him confused and he wipes his tears away – he doesn't know how to act around you. It's been too long. He buried the memories of you and never wanted them to resurface. The knowledge that you are alive and here right in front of him hits him like a fright train. It scares the fucking shit out of him.

He clears his throat and avoids your gaze when he asks you if you want to sit – you agree hastily - you didn't take off your boots like Ellie said and you contemplate for a flash of a second that maybe you should - when you see the change in his stance and attitude. He's trying to distance himself from you and you don't understand why – wasn't he glad you were here?

You look around the living room. It's spacey and you hate that small painting of deer above the fireplace. You quickly scan the bookshelf and figure most of the books are Ellies. When you sit on the worn-off couch you expect that Joel will sit next to you – but he moves across the room and keeps standing. You are confused and you don't understand – you never expected your reunion to go this way. It stays quiet and you break the silence once again – he never was much of a talker anyway- you and Sarah kept the house full of laughter and it was never quiet thanks to both of you – and he never thought he would miss it that much.

“I met Ellie. She actually dragged me here.” You chuckle but he doesn't respond – this was such a bad idea. He tears your heart apart with his stoic stance and silence and doesn't even know it. But he can't bring himself to speak or move – he worries if he does you will disappear.

“Okay, I guess I will go.” He wants to tell you to stay here with him. But alas nothing comes out of his mouth – though when he sees the ring on your neck he gasps and you throw him a questioning look.

“You-you kept it after all these years.” You are confused but when you see where his gaze is trained you look at your engagement ring and smile. “Yeah, I-uh, I've never stopped thinking about you or Sarah you know.” He sharply inhales, he wants to tell you so much. “And every time I look at it I hear her annoyed voice scolding you on how you proposed.” You snort and he grins softly remembering your light laughter and Sarah's huffing on how un-romantic he was.

“Babe just another five minutes, please.” You grumble and feel him smile against your skin – his patchy beard scratching your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and your breath hitches when you feel his tongue flatten against your pulse point. He hums against your skin and nips at your skin – you try to push him away but he just grins wider and hovers above you.

“You know you said that six times now come on, want to take you somewhere nice. Promise I will make it worth it.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you giggle at his antics – he was the one who slept in most of the time – but on days like this – where you feel exhausted from the previous night's session of amazing sex – you feel like you could sleep till afternoon. You slowly kiss the bald spot on his beard and one of your hands sneaks to the band of boxers – he grabs your hand quickly and shakes his head at you.

“Na-ah, won't work on me this time, sweetheart. You can't seduce me.” You just hum and kiss the spot between his shoulder blade and neck – gently scraping your hand through his already tousled hair. His eyes flutter close for a moment and it's now your turn to grin against his skin. You know you won.

“Mmm, I don't know but you left your girlfriend pretty unsatisfied last night.” You try to push the smile off your face when he quickly opens his eyes at your words – you know he never backs down from a challenge.

“Oh?” You hum and finally cup his semi-hard cock in your hand. He grunts and you smile, biting your lip when he slowly puts his fingers inside your panties. “So wet for me already baby, was three orgasms last night not enough for you, mhm?” He asks when he pushes two fingers inside of you and you gasp – arching your back and he squeezes one of your breasts – his now hard cock strains against his boxers.

“How do you know I-oh fuck. Didn't fake it?” you grit out when his fingers brush against the spongy spot inside of you – his thumb drawing circles on your clit leisurely. His eyes darken at your question and he hooks the two of his fingers inside of you – it feels too good and all you can do is just moan in pure bliss.

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I know. This sweet pussy grips me like a vice when you cum. Guess I need to remind you.” The other hand that was squeezing your tit now goes higher and he strokes your jaw – you grant his access to your mouth and he growls when you bite on his lower lip and your go to the back of your head when he speeds his hand – his tongue sliding into your mouth and when he pulls away you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Guess you do.” he mumbles something alongside “such a smart mouth” before his hands grab you around your throat and put small pressure on it – you shudder and he just hums when he feels you close. “Gonna cum for me, won't you?” You just nod and when you finally do cum – you bite his shoulder, your nails scraping across his back. He pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in your mouth – you hum around them and push him so he is the one laying on his back.

“I have to return the favor.” You throw him a cheeky look and he just mutters an “oh god” when you pull him out of his boxers – the tip already red and sensitive, leaking precum out of it. "Guess I will have my breakfast early."

An hour later Sarah is already up and grins at you. You bid her a good morning – you try to look presentable – you've already brushed your teeth, changed and you smile at her when you see that she made pancakes.

“Sooo, do you like the ring?” she asks and you stop pouring coffee into Joel's mug. He throws Sarah a quick look of “don't say another word, please” but she ignores him. “You know, the one dad proposed with?” your go slack-jawed and look at Joel who quickly scrambles to his feet from the chair and pulls you to him.

“What is she talking about, Joel? You ask and he uncertainly smiles and bends one knee – you see the little black velvet box and when he opens it you gasp – the ring inside of it is beautiful – simple and elegant and tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh my god, dad. You said you would propose before the sunset.” Joel shrugs his shoulders and keeps his gaze trained on you.

“That was the plan but were… preoccupied.” He grins at the last word and Sarah mutters a quick “gross” but starts looking for that old stupid camera to make wvideo of the proposal– hoping you would say yes. She thought of you almost like a mother and when Joel told her he wanted to marry you she squealed in delight.

“So whad’ya say, sweetheart? Will you marry me? Even though I am proposing in our kitchen and with my pajamas on.” You nod and he lets out a breath of relief – when he stands up you kiss him passionately.

“You won't get rid of me now that easily, Texas.” You whisper against his lips as he wipes your tears away.

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.” You couldn't wait for the new chapter of your life with Joel and Sarah by your side

Joel stays quiet for a long time after your confession and he almost misses you leaving – but he registers the door shutting softly. He falls onto the floor – putting his hand on his heart which seems like it will fall out of his chest any moment- his breath is quick and he can't seem to calm himself down. His ears are ringing and he registers the flow of tears after they fall on his cheeks and into his mouth – the salty flavor of them sits heavy in his mouth – and he wishes he could be man enough and run after you. But he doesn't – he stays sitting up on his living room floor the face of you haunting his mind alongside with the old memories

Tommy was right. Your fiánce was not the person you once knew. Joel seems to be avoiding you because you've been in Jackson for a week now and didn't see him at all. Not that you minded after seeing his enthusiasm – or rather lack of – at seeing you. You try to not think about it that much and throughout the day you occupy yourself – at night you cry a lot – Mariah always comes to your room and shushes you to sleep or if you are talkative that night she lets you talk. It's like having a girls' night but more…depressing. The people in Jackson are nice and you try to help everywhere you can. Whether it be with kids or at the canteen. Helping with sheep or horses – you often go and visit Buckley – he soothes your ongoing nerves. Joel will have to come out of hiding one day. And you are not ready for that. On the other side Ellie seems to hang with you a lot – the day after your meeting with Joel she almost tackled you to the ground when she forcefully asked what did you do to Joel – you have to give it to her, that girl got spirit and an undying loyal heart like the man she is living with. After trying to explain it to her –it was very hard because she thinks Joel can do no wrong really – and you are not saying he did, she gave in pretty easily and started hanging out with you.

You are staying at Tommy for a while – at least before you decide if you will leave which is very unlikely or they will try to find you another accommodation. She comes there every afternoon and brings her science books – you found an anatomical book in the library one day and kept it with you – and you try and teach her the various Latin words or show her where is what on her body – three days ago you two drew a life-sized human and marked bones on it and such. You've met other people too and learned that the shy cowboy's name was Henry – he asked you out and you admired him for his braveness but you told him you are probably closer to his mother's age than to be his girlfriend.

Tommy went and tried talking to Joel too but you both know how stubborn he can be and when you asked him how did it go he just shook his head low and offered you a sad smile. Today you wanted to help an old lady, Mrs.Grempinks - or something like that – with knitting. Her hands were shaking the past few days and she felt sad – you offered her help and she accepted – she doesn't need to know you do not know how to knit at all. At least it will maybe make her feel better that she is not the only one in the room with poor knitting skills. On the way to her, you come across Ellie and she lets out a relieved sigh when she spots you.

“Here you are I've been looking everywhere for you.” she empathizes the word everywhere and starts dragging you with her – where you aren't sure.

“Hey, Ellie. Slow down. Ellie!” you shriek when you figure out where exactly she is dragging you – to her – Joel's- house and you burrow your heels into the snow-covered ground.

“Joel isn't home and I want to show you something really cool – I've been working on it for the past couple of days after you borrowed me your anatomy book.” You want to protest and you turn around in the direction of Mrs. Grempkin's house but you don't have the heart to tell Ellie that you don't have time and Joel is not home and you would leave soon enough anyways – she will just show you her little project and then it's gonna be as if you never even put your foot in the house again. When she pulls you inside she again quickly closes the door behind you and dread overcomes you – oh no she didn't – she shows you the two keys in her hand and you know the other one is Joels. She locked you out.

“I am sorry but both of you are miserable and you have to talk it out!” There is nothing to talk about with Joel – he doesn't need your presence near him, it's been clear and you mouth a quiet “please, Ellie, don't do this” while you jumble with the handle. It's no use and you sigh thumping your forehead against the door. You quietly take your boots off this time and start looking around the house – looking for Joel to tell him what just happened.

You find him in his workshop – it's nice and you stay in the doorway while looking around. You see the various little wooden figures and you find it cute that he found something he can get lost in. The various guitars on the wall peak your interest – you've always loved when he played and his back is still turned on you while he focuses on his woodwork – you enter the room slowly and when you touch one of his guitars a low “hi” echoes throughout the room. His back is turned still but his hands stopped moving and he is sitting still.

“Didn't know you could hear me.” You say and he chuckles lowly.

“I'd be dead by now if I didn't hear someone sneaking up on me.” He says and you hum acknowledgment – when he finally turns to look at you your breath hitched because he is so effortlessly handsome it hurts. You cross your arms around your chest.

“I wasn't sneaking up on you.”

“Sure you weren't.” He throws you a grin and it's different than the last time you talked – or didn't really – to him. He is more relaxed and he actually looks like he doesn't mind seeing you in his house. It's quiet for a while but not that uncomfortable silence that suffocates. You look at one another and you take him all in – his aquiline nose and his full lower lip, his brown eyes and you look at the dip of his neck – licking your lips. It's suddenly too hot in here with the way his gaze burns into you.

“I am sorry.” He offers and you don't understand what for – or you do – you just want him to expand that sentence because you felt like a fool the last time you were here. “I am sorry for the way I reacted but I never thought I'd see you again and when you just appeared in my house I was overwhelmed with emotions I didn't know I could still feel. After Sarah died I-” He chokes and you are in front of him in a blink of a second – cupping his cheeks and he closes his eyes bathing in your gentle touch which he doesn't deserve - or at least he thinks so

“You don't have to tell me anything. Tommy told me and I-I am sorry what happened to Sarah. And everything you've been through, Joel.” You say and he opens his eyes and shakes his head – none of what happened was your fault and you shouldn't be sorry. He was glad you weren't with him when all of it went to shit because you'd probably be here by now. It's easy to be this intimate with him and you bask in the way he lets you touch – you expect him to pull away like last time – but he doesn't. Instead, he brings his lips closer to yours and searches for your gaze which drops when he licks his lower lip.

“I want to kiss you, sweetheart,” he murmurs and your lips are almost – almost touching when he says so. His forehead is pressed up against yours and your hands that were previously holding his face now move behind his neck – your nails scratch the spot behind his ear gently and he closes his eyes – whether in pure bliss or to hold himself back you don't know – though if its the latter you don't want that. “Need to kiss you,” he adds. You just nod your head in agreement – you wanted nothing more than to kiss him the last time you saw him.

“What are you waiting on then, Texas?” You tease and you feel him smile into the kiss – it's just a gentle press of lips – as if he was testing the waters. One of his hands grabs your hip – squeezing it – and the other moves behind your head and pushes you closer – he needs you closer. The wet press of his lips is more urgent now and his tongue licks your lower lip. You grant him access into your mouth and then the kiss becomes more urgent, more passionate, more desperate – Joel was always a good kisser and you always enjoyed just making out with him late at night to some bad movie that was on the TV. The hand on your hip moves lower and he cups your ass – you moan into his mouth and he hums, the other hand now stroking the hinge of your jaw. Your hands scratch his scalp and he almost but purrs – pulling away from you he plants butterfly kisses across your face.

“Bedroom?” The question seems silly – you need him and if you'd be any younger you'd jump his bones right here on the floor. But you are not so you nod and he pecks your lips quickly before he grabs your hand – squeezing your fingers in his – and leads you to his bedroom. When you enter it he closes the door more forcefully than needed and before you have time to look around he is pushing you onto the bed – your back hits the mattress and he grins – he hasn't seen this sight in over 20 years and he is enjoying every second of it. You sit up and pull him by the collar of his shirt. He is quick with it – his mouth on yours again and his hands start exploring your body – they go from your thighs up to your tummy and then higher – he squeezes your tits – you moan and his hands move higher cupping your cheeks tenderly. He pulls away and moves your hair out of your face.

“Need you so badly.” He pants – and you feel just the same. You feel him start undressing you but you want to make this last as long as possible. You push him away and he seems confused before you are pushing him on his back – your sit on his lap and you feel how hard he is under his jeans – you test the waters and grind down on him – your hands on his chest and he really wants to keep his eyes open but the feel of you on him makes him feel like he's fuckin teenager again that will bust his load into his pants any second. “Fuck, gonna make me cum before the real fun even begins and I am not young as I used to be. If that happens I will have to eat you out at least three times.” You grin and bend down to kiss his neck – your tongue leaving hot trails in its wake. He sits up with you and his hands fly to your lower back to support you. He surges forward – his tongue exploring your mouth, mapping your teeth with it and when you feel his hands trying to take your shirt off – you tug him by the hair roughly – his hips bucking up to meet yours as he moans your name brokenly.

“Slow down, baby. Want to appreciate you.” You push his chest so he will be laying again – he wants to protest but you put one of your fingers to his lips. The look he gives you is downright sinful before he is sucking it into his mouth – his teeth nipping it and you can't look away from his advances. His tongue peaks out and you feel the way he swirls it around your digit just like used to when he ate you out. You moan brokenly and put another one there and he bites into them softly. The small butterfly kisses you leave on his scar from his suicide attempt makes him drop your fingers from his mouth as he groans loudly – he feels so fucking appreciated and loved at this moment that it makes his head dizzy. “Need to see you, baby. Sit up.” He does and you unbutton his shirt slowly one by one while he kisses your jaw and your neck – sucking at it once in a while his tongue flattens out against your pulse point where he leaves a mark.

“Fuck, want you to take your shirt off too.” You don't have time to comply before he is pulling it over your head and you are not wearing any bra – the one Mariah gave you did not fit you – and he immediately reaches for them. He pinches one of your nipples while he sucks on your other one and you throw your head back – it always felt this good with him. Sex with him was easy and he was a generous lover. The only man that had ever made you cum. When pulls away he frowns when he sees the deep red scar close to your heart.

“Someone stabbed me but as you can see I am alive and well. Don't worry about it, We all have our own scars.” Your thumb slides across the one next to his temple and he nods – he is angry at himself though. Maybe if he was with you it wouldn't happen. Maybe if he'd try to look for you harder. Maybe…”Hey, Joel. You still with me?” You stroke his bicep and he nods before you peck him gently. “Strip out of these, will you? Want to suck your dick.” You pat his jeans-clad thigh and his jaw rocks forward. You sit on the bed and he makes quick work of his jeans and his boxer – his cock is bobbing with need and you open your mouth awaiting.

The first lick sends him into overdrive and he grips your hair and tries telling you to take him deeper – just a little bit deeper. You drool and the spit starts to cover his balls – it's messy and the sounds he makes sound like straight up from porn. His head is thrown back and he gets lost in the feel of you – your mouth – and he can't believe you are here with him. He feels his balls pull up tighter and he pulls it out quickly before he is bending down to kiss you – he doesn't register the surprised sound you make when he pushes his tongue almost all the way back down your throat.

You taste like him because you are his, his, his and the growing need he has for you makes him almost rip your new pants before he is working his fingers inside of you – the familiar wetness and tightness make him feel like he is 30 again – and you cry out. He drills into you and snarls when your nails dig into his forearm, his nose bumps against yours and he wants to kiss you but he concentrates on making you cum because he wants to be inside of you. To mark you as his. His to kiss and hiss to make you cum and his to love and his, his, his. He searches for that spot and his other hand sneaks onto your inner thigh – when he finds it – he can hear it from the high-pitched moan that you let out. He smacks you onto your inner thigh and you jump forward and try to get away from him. It's too much – his fingers, his groans and talks and his tongue that find its way into your mouth. He's too much and he can feel you are almost there – almost. He grabs your throat and his eyes watch your Adam's apple bob – his thumb putting slight pressure on it. The squelching sounds of your pussy make him double his efforts and he can feel you getting closer and closer with every pass of his fingers through your walls – your pleas echoing through the room. He knows you need more and he grins menacingly when he sees how your pussy glistens with your juices and soak his hand.

“Fuck, sweetheart look at you. Soaking me. You want to cum?” He knows you do and he is downright cruel when he slows down and you sob because you want to cum – you nod and he is not happy with that – swatting you against your inner thigh once again before repeating that question.

“Yes, yes, Joel! I want to cum, please make me cum!” You feel on a verge of tears and he kisses you softly before he continues his previous efforts – his thumb now circling your clit and it's the additional stimulation you needed. He curses when he feels you squeeing him and he works you through it – your vision goes white and all you can think about is Joel and how good he is – before you come back down and he is still working his way inside of you and suddenly its too much – you try to push him away but the hand on your thigh just grips you harder – the blunt nails of his digging into your thigh.

“Please, Joel, Too much, it's too much!” You cry out but it's like he can't hear you and he bites your lower lip, his fingers never stopping and you can feel him pulling another orgasm out of you – you can feel him grin against your mouth and murmuring “that's it, such a good girl for me, sweetheart” before you are cuming again. Your legs shake and the moans you let out die down when he puts his coated fingers of your cum in your mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head – he is kissing you and then telling you to “share with him” and it's so fucking nasty – a string of saliva connecting you both before he is wiping his mouth. You are sedated and when he reaches for something in his bedside table you don't really care. The sound of foil tearing makes you open your eyes and you see how he pulls the condom on his dick before he is crawling to you.

“Come on, sweetheart. You gonna ride me.” He says and you don't feel like you have that much of a choice – he is pulling you on top of him and before you know it he notches the head of his dick between your folds. You grab the base of him and slowly sink down on him – you forgot how fucking thick and big he was and you need a moment before you start moving. Your muscles are sore and your throat is dried up from all the moaning and screaming but when you look down to see Joel's blissed-out expression – you start to move slowly. He lets you ride him at your own pace – you are the one in control now and he's here only for the right. He strokes his thumbs o your sides and then opens his eyes he feels like he will come right there and then. Your tits bounce with every pass of his cock against your walls and the way your head is thrown back and your throat on full display – his fingers twitch as he has the urge to bring you by your throat and kiss you.

The leisurely pace only lasts for a while before you can feel another orgasm build inside of you – the hair on the base of his cock scratch your clit deliciously. You dig your nails into his shoulders – one of your hands grabbing his jaw when you kiss him – he lets you and his hands move from your hips to your ass – squeezing the flash in his palms. You moan when you feel one of his hands sneak toward your clit but you push him away – breaking from the kiss.

“I am the one that is now in control, Texas.” The smirk you give him makes his cock twitch and he nods – his Adam's apple bobbing when he gulps and you til his chin up as you sink your teeth gently into it. He holds onto you tighter – your pace unfaltering and he wants to cum – needs to – but not before you. His heels dig into the mattress and you pull back to stop moving as your hips start to sway in a figure of eight. It does nothing for him and he whines – whines – in protest. You tell him to “shut up” because you are so so fucking close and that's when he grits his teeth together – his patience runs thin. His hands grab the chain with his ring on it – the only thing you are wearing – and he pulls you towards him by it. The look you throw him is absolutely wrecked and when you are close to his mouth – you need to kiss him, want to taste him – he pulls his head away from you to put the ring between his teeth. That alone almost makes you cum and you can't look away from him – even when he grabs you by the flash of your ass – and start sinking you down on him. You are completely mesmerized by the ring in his mouth and before you know it you are cuming – he slaps your ass when you do and you jolt forward – the ring falling from his mouth when he tangles his tongue with yours.

He fucks you through it and he sits up – his heels planting into the mattress so he can chase his own orgasm – he puts the ring into your mouth now and if he could he would take a picture of you like this – his ring between your teeth while he fucks you silly and your gorgeous body putty in his hands. His balls slap against the meat of your thighs and he puts his forehead on your chest – you can feel the small droplets of his sweat roll down his forehead. He pants and you know he is close – his pace now frantic as he kisses your chest. His lips make their way to your throat and every pass of his cock makes your walls twitch. You feel every vein of his and the head of him pushes against your g-spot. You start meeting his thrusts – pulling him closer to your neck as the only thing he can now do is groan and whine. He can feel your quick pulse and the way your fingers tangle in his locks as you tug him by it – you are overstimulated but he doesn't want this to stop. Never wants this to stop.

“Come on, baby. Want you to cum in me,” You whine and he shakes his head – he doesn’t want to, he doesn't, he doesn't…and then he is cumming as he empties his seed into the condom. He thrusts up at you a few times as he pushes himself through the afer shocks – you can feel him twitch in you before his body goes limp and you fall on him. He strokes your shoulder blades and you listen to his slowing heartbeat – your fingers drawing little hearts on his chest. He slowly pulls out of you and grips the condom by the base of it to tie it off and he throws it into the trash can next to his bed. He pulls you closer to him and you hum – slowly drifting off to sleep exhausted and worn out.

“Love you, Joel.” You say against his neck when you kiss him there and his heart swells up at your confession. He unclasps the chain from your neck and pulls the ring on your finger as he admires it.

“Love you too, baby.” You almost don't hear him when he whispers it against your lips – but you don't need him to say it – after all Joel is a man of actions and not words. And you are perfectly fine with that.

[hatchetno1]

sage forest mental institution.

chapter 1: pilot word count: 2.5k note: yes this is a rewrite. i am sorry. also on AO3. here is the link.

Working in Wing F, evaluation and quarantine, allows for you to observe a whole slew of mental disorders. Some make sense to you, and would as well to the layman. Some simply do not, and the shit-grade doctors at Sage Fores are apparently as stupid as they seem and dropped the fuck to be given between the cracks of drainage.

Three new patients come in, along with a cold gust of wind.

The transport officer, Jeremy, offers you his greetings once again.

“’Sup, lil’ bro?” To him, gender is irrelevant, and so is age. You’re not even sure how much older he is than you, or if he is at all, but you’d gotten used to the term of affection long ago.

“Nothing much, Jeremy. Thanks for bringing them in. Need a snack?” You offer, knowing the man to have an endless pit for a stomach.

“Aw shit, you know I do.” So you toss him a pack of three Oreos. The only thing stronger than the man’s lactose intolerance is apparently his love for the cookies.

Four other officers—they have to be new, you’d never seen any of their faces before—bring the new patients to be evaluated into the building, distributing them into their cells.

One patient with light brown hair and baby blues, still in prisoner’s clothes, speaks up. “May I be placed next to him?” His hands, cuffed, weakly gesture to the bearded man next to him.

And with a sharp wham he’s beaten into the ground. Jeremy, still with Oreos in his mouth, is startled.

Something tugs at your gut.

“Who the fuck gave you the right to touch my patient?” You snap, not recognizing the volume and ferocity of your own voice.

The nameless officer, his face now burned into your mind’s eye, opens his mouth, only to stutter.

Jeremy’s hand shoots out between both of you and places his back to his subordinate. You vaguely register the third patient—the one with a shaggy brown mop of hair—help up the one who spoke.

“I’m sorry. He didn’t mean it,” defends Jeremy half-heartedly. You know this guy well enough to figure out that he’s just defending a newbie on the job.

“Not your fault, Jeremy,” you mutter. “But keep him on a leash or something. I don’t care if he beats other prisoners or something, but,” you step closer to look the new officer in the eye, his own orbs glazed over with a hint of fear and remorse, “remember that my job is hard enough as it is. I now have to treat a wound and whatever trauma that person suffered from you.”

The new officer gulps. “S-sorry.”

“Hm.” You keep your response curt so as to avoid any words that might let him think what he did was marginally okay.

You turn back to get a good look at your poor patient. “Sorry about that. What’s your name?” You always preferred asking your patients directly instead of referring to a document serving only to persecute them.

“Brian Thomas,” he croaks out, but not before his eyes flit to your nametag. “I’m fine, I was just caught off guard.”

“I’ll still have to send you to medical later,” you say apologetically. “Here, as an apology.” You pull another pack of Oreos out of your pocket.

The man smiles weakly at you, accepting the cookies. “Thank you.”

This batch of new patients seems to be rather well-behaved and rational, instead of the violent type you get most of the time. They are, after all, being sent to an asylum for the criminally insane.

---

After Jeremy and his subordinates are gone, you settle your patients in with the help of Andrea, a nurse from another wing. In this godforsaken asylum, you believe only her to have a good heart. She was the one who helped you get settled in with this job when you’d first entered 8 months ago.

And as Brian Thomas had wished, you placed him and his pal next to each other. You note that the three of them seem close, which might make your job easier. If you can’t coax something out of one of them, there are two others to try it on.

“It’s only two weeks, and if you’re lucky, maybe just one,” you had told the three men, who all provided you with no noteworthy reactions.

No meds were needed at this point in quarantine, unless the doctor determined that they were in need of it, which was usually in the later stages of quarantine, and usually signified their release into the main asylum.

Administrative work is a blur as always. All work in this gloomy building is to you, and every day is a dissociative fog to you until you get to visit your own patients in their rooms.

The first one you visit is the one whom Brian had requested to be put next to, and you did indeed place them in adjacent cells. His dossier carries the name “Timothy Wright”.

You knock on the door respectfully— a thing you do for your patients in hopes they don’t lose the sense that they’re still a person. This asylum is no cozy home, but if you don’t try to make it one for them, they’ll probably lose their minds.

No response comes from within the room. You take it as an absence of objection to your intrusion, and enter.

“Hey, man.” You include a deliberate casualness in your tone, hoping it’ll help set the man at ease.

The cell includes a simple bathroom cubicle in the corner, complete with a sink and a mirror right next to it. The floor is tiled and the bedframe crickety. On the rare occasion that a patient invites you to sit on the bed with them, you find that the mattress can barely be classified as decent.

Timothy sits on the bed, his attention now captured by you. “Hey.”

You allow a calculated amount of silence between you and him, allowing for him to speak his mind. He does.

“You still got some of those Oreos?” He asks.

This question is not unexpected. “Yeah.” And you toss him a packet from your coat’s pocket.

He catches it with ease. “You, uh…just keep those in your pocket?”

You can recall a patient or two who’s asked you that question before, so you take it as an opportunity to explain. “Sometimes we give these out to patients who’re well-behaved as a reward.” You pause, choosing your words carefully to balance both honesty and a sense of warmth. “But honestly I don’t like that we only give it as a reward. It’s like you’re dogs to be rewarded. Just don’t tell anyone else that I simply give out Oreos.”

You say this as if damn near half the asylum patients don’t already know you for your free Oreos, though they’re all bribed with a free Oreo pack pass to keep it a secret from the asylum. The rest of the staff, save for Andrea, just think you’re nice and happen to give the treats for every single good deed the patients carry out. Though, you’re still careful, lest a single glance at your wing’s stash of sundry Oreos betray you. So you make it a point to buy them from the convenience store outside your home with your own pay, and replenish the stock every day, making sure the stash seems untouched.

Timothy simply nods in understanding, opening the pack to pop a cookie into his mouth whole. Next up is something you don’t expect.

“Want one?” He holds the open pack to you.

“Uh.” Then you laugh. “Why not?” You make sure not to reject, placing yourself on the same level as him. That is to say, lacking a stash of Oreos. Pulling an Oreo out of the packet in his hand, you pop it into your mouth too.

“Thanks, man,” you say through a mouthful of Oreo. After you swallow, you ask his name.

“You can just call me Tim.” You note that even he prefers the shorter version of his name.

“Alright, Tim. If you ever need me, just call me. Okay?”

He provides a simple nod in response, then offers an “okay” in return.

You nod. Everything in his room is in order, and he seems to require no more than just that simple check-in.

The door closes.

---

The next to visit on your list is Brian, who sits on the bed, an ice pack pressed to his cheek with Andrea crouched by his side. She notices your presence, gets up and whispers to you.

“I’ll leave you to it, hun.” She knows you don’t like your patients surrounded by more than one nurse or doctor if necessary, so you thank her silently and turn to face your patient once your colleague is gone.

Brian’s swelling seems to already have gone down, with the darkness of the bruise already fading to a dark green. “You heal quite fast,” you remark.

Straightening up, you hold a hand out to him. “I’m Y/N, a nurse here.” He grabs your hand and shakes it firmly with a slight smile on the good side of his face. “I’m Brian Thomas.” You chuckle. “Yes, I have your dossier here,” you joke, albeit a lame, half-assed one.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” you begin. “Usually, those guys don’t touch my patients ‘cause they know what happens if they do—I’ll sock them right back— but it seems these ones were new. I’ll see what I can do about it, disciplinary actions or getting them barred from here or something.”

Brian smiles, letting out a huff of a laugh through his nose. “No need. I can see why they act like that. In prison…sometimes it’s necessary.” When that doesn’t seem to reassure you, he adds, “I’ve been through a lot worse. Trust me. It’s okay.”

You’re not reassured, not in the slightest bit. But years of experience with patients have taught you to go along with them. Forcing them in your own direction would do no good for either of you.

“If you say so,” is what your mouth and brain collectively settle on. “Doesn’t mean you should be treated like that, though. Any staff touches you, let me know.” You smile a little at the following thought, “Everyone knows not to touch the patients in my wing.”

That’s not to say you’re the head of the wing. You feel a little ick, even, at claiming that this is “your wing”. But seeing as patients leave the wing happy or even a little better than before, you think it’s fine.

“Are you three friends…?” You ask.

Brian replies. “Tim and I are. The third one, Toby, is new to, uh… us.”

Something tells you not to press it.

“Right then. That reminds me, I’ve gotta get around to Toby. Uh…,” You refer to the third one’s dossier. “Is calling him Toby okay, or should I be calling him Tobias?”

Brian’s eyes darken. “Don’t ever call him Tobias.”

So you enter Toby’s room, and make a mental note to never call him Tobias, because he could be dangerous if you do so.

---

I didn’t expect us to find the one so soon.

---

You enter Toby’s room and make a mental note to never call him Tobias, because he could be dangerous if you do so.

But it seems otherwise to you.

What sticks out to you, more of a concern than even his potentially murderous behavior upon being called his real name, is the bandage on his cheek. While Toby was indeed quiet at first, especially on your first visit, with small, retracted body language, knees pulled to his chin and short, quiet responses, he quickly warmed up.

After countless “yes, no, maybe, I don’t know”s, you insert an innocent, “You can call me any time for anything you need,” and his eyes light up. You think that perhaps he’s just lonely, and anticipate a lot of calls from him. 

And you’re right to do so, with him calling you for every little thing.

Every. Little. Thing.

“Y/N, I can’t tie the robe at the back…,” whines Toby as he half-heartedly reaches and grabs at the ribbon behind his back. 

“Okay,” you laugh, and reach out to tie it for him. And then, gently, he grasps your hand, perhaps to guide it to the ribbon. You’re not allowed to touch patients. But for him, for just this once, maybe you’ll let him. 

But he turns around to face you, brown eyes unreadable. 

“You really mean it, right? That I can call you for anything?”

You’re caught off guard by the whole thing. “Uh…,” You laugh nervously. “Yeah. Yes.” Before you’re about to blabber on in nervousness about why and how he should, he grins, eyes brightening a little.

“Great! I’ll see you later.”

He does, in fact, see you later.

To put it lightly, Toby calls you a lot. To put it bluntly, he calls you for a lot of stupid shit.

“Y/N,” he’d whine, dragging out the syllables of your name, “I’m bored!” So you give him a book. Then, you play a board game with him. Finally, you attempt to teach him biology, which a man his age should really not be marveling at, given the rudimentariness of the content you rattle off.

“Y/N,” he’d whine again, “I’m hungry!” And you’d tease, “You just had lunch, Toby.” 

“But I’m hungryyyyy!” He’d exclaim. “I get hungry easily. And I’m hungry now.”

You begrudgingly pull out a pack of Oreos from your pocket.

And now, it’s the 64th time, at the end of two weeks, and most likely the last time he’ll get to call on you like this. Though you’d usually begrudgingly heed his call and head over with a slight drag in your steps, you decide that today, now, you may as well entertain his silly little questions for the last time.

And so you knock on the door and enter upon his “Come in!”, bracing yourself for whatever nonsensical request he might make. 

A nonsensical request he makes indeed. “Y/N,” he mumbles, fidgeting with his hands. “Can you…uh… turn around for a moment?”

Never turn your back to a patient, not when they’re criminally insane. But today, now, your guard is down, and your brain somehow forgets that you might land yourself in danger.

You laugh, dismissing his silly request as “just a Toby thing”, and twirl around, only exposing your back for a moment. 

One second is all it takes. You only turn 180 degrees, barely a completion of your round.

You hit the floor with a thud.

note: sorry for all the page breaks. i promise it'll get better soon.

[magneto-was-fucking-right]

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 2

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;

Chapter summary: Ghost's neighbor works hard to get in his good graces: her dog, not so much. Word Count: 1.2k

Riley Thomas woke up at 5 in the morning with a skull-splitting headache and a sore neck, as she had fallen asleep awkwardly on her armchair the previous evening. It was her day off, but her body was now so accustomed to the work routine she often had trouble allowing herself to sleep in.

In order to get up, she (sorrowfully) had to move a large cat that lay peacefully on her legs, stretching her aching muscles and cracking her joints before starting her morning routine, which consisted of thoroughly cleaning litter boxes and cages, feeding the animals and making sure they kept as quiet as possible. The rest of the apartment was a complete mess (as well as her looks), but at least the pets were well taken care of. The burnt cookies laid abandoned on her small kitchen table, and she grabbed one off the tray before biting into it and trying not to grimace as she tasted it.

“Fuck that’s awful.”

She made a mental note to deep clean the flat as soon as possible but she knew her exhaustion would make her postpone it as much as possible. Riley had a mission much more important than that: to get into her neighbor’s good graces. The thought of confronting the large, intimidating man once again made her stomach lurch and her body tremble with anxiety, but if she didn’t try there was a good chance she – as well as her rescues - would be homeless in less than a few weeks. So, once her home affairs were sorted, she quickly caught up with her skincare routine, replaced her sweatpants with simple jeans and her tank top for a warm sweater, and leashed an excited young German shepherd she was currently housing to head out to the nearest grocery store.

The early morning daylight barely lit up the dim hallway as she fiddled with her keys and gently tried to push the cat’s head inside the apartment with her foot.

“I’ll be back soon Milo” she whispered softly to the stray cat, trying to lock the door as she fought against the dog’s leash. “Alright, alright…we’re going. Calm down Rex.”

The dog’s tail wagged furiously as he pulled on the leash, sniffing his way across the floor. He barked loudly once he caught the scent of a spot that interested him, and she quickly shushed him, terrified he’d bother the neighbours and get her into more trouble. But just as she was about to pull him towards the staircase, her eyes widened in horror as she watched the young dog squat down quickly on a rug. Her next-door neighbor’s rug. The large, intimidating, broody man. The man she was supposed to impress.

“No no no, please don’t!” she frantically tried to pull on the leash, accessing some sort of damage control if he at least did it in the middle of the hallway instead of right in front of the door, but Rex seemed hellbound on dropping it right there.

“Fuck!” she quickly dropped to her knees, pulling out her dog poo bag and fisting it as fast as humanly possible. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest as she heard the door open right in front of her. Riley felt her mouth dry and her stomach drop. Even Rex stood still, sitting obediently as if he hadn’t just ruined her chances of thriving in that place. She looked up with doe eyes, a deer caught in the headlights as the man in the black facemask stared down blankly at her figure.

***

“Did your dog just take a dump on my doorstep?” Simon asked gruffly, dark eyes directed at the young woman’s, as her hand was quite literally deep in shit.

“I-I…” her mouth hung open as she tried to find a hundred different excuses at the same time. “I’m so sorry…” Was the best she could come up with.

Simon cocked his head to the right and stared at her in silence as if trying to make her feel as awkward and uncomfortable as possible. She looked so vulnerable and anxious; it was almost endearing.

She squirmed beneath his intense gaze as she scraped the steaming hot turd as efficiently as possible – to no effect, as it only ingrained itself deeper within the rug’s fibers. “I was just about to take him for a walk…He’s young and still learning and-”

“And?” he teased, interrupting her.

“And I promise I’ll wash your rug! Fuck, I’ll get you a new one if it makes this better!” She looked like she could cry, and Simon was enjoying it.

Just as she was awkwardly getting up, bag full of shit in hand, they heard angry, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Uh-oh… Here comes trouble.” Simon mocked, extremely interested in the outcome of the next few minutes, leaning against his doorframe, and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, it’s alright…I’m sure Mrs. Parsons will warm up to me…eventually…” the young woman smiled nervously.

The old woman made way through the corridor with her usual scowl and her robe tightly wrapped around her scrawny form, newspaper in hand. She gave Simon’s next-door neighbor and her dog a disgusted look, before indignantly ignoring them.

“Good morning Mrs-”

“Fuck off.” Mrs. Parsons cut her off before she had even finished the sentence, and Simon stifled a chuckle.

“Lovely…” she muttered under her breath, that defeated look back on her face. Her puffy eyes looked worse than in their previous encounter and she forced a smile as if trying to lighten up the mood. “I’m about to get some groceries. I’ll get you that new rug on the way back.”

“Look…” Simon started with a deep sigh, taking a long look behind him at his uninhabited-looking apartment before looking at his wristwatch. “I’m actually in need of some groceries myself. If you help me out, I’ll slide all this under the rug.”

She blinked once in shock, as if trying to comprehend if he was being serious or not. His deadpan expression didn’t help.

“It’s a joke kiddo, lighten’up yeah?” he rolled his eyes at her, before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

“Oh…haha” She allowed herself to giggle nervously and rolled back her shoulders, trying to shake the discomfort and relax under his gaze. “Sure, I could do that. Just make me a list of what you need.”

“That’s where it gets complicated. I need everything. I got back from deployment yesterday an’ have nothing to live on.” Simon explained as he passed the young woman 200 pounds in cash. Her eyes went wide as she held the money in her free hand, the stinky bag still occupying the other.

“I don’t know what you like…And you don’t even know me. What if I stole all your money?” she asked and he faked an intimidating glare.

“Well kid, I know where you live.”

“That’s-”

He shut the door on her face and the dog whined softly as if disappointed by the man’s sudden absence.

The young woman sighed deeply.

“You and me both buddy.”

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying it :) they're about to get closer real soon...

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Can u pls pls pls do a smut where daniel is a lot older thn me, and put a strap around my neck saying “daddys slut” and slaps me on the face & spit on me

Also i love ur writing 🥺🥺🥺

Hell Yeah - Daniel Ricciardo

<word count - 1613>

warning - smut, under 18s dni, i'm sorry, (light) slapping, spitting, choking (?)

Ringing the doorbell, you stood outside Daniel's front door while you waited for him. No more than ten minutes ago, you had received a text from the Aussie saying he needed you at his house and now. 

As much as your friends said you shouldn't keep doing this with him since he was a whole lot older than you, around eleven years, and he had made it clear that he wasn't looking for a relationship. You were both there for the same thing, so you didn't mind. 

He opened the door, wearing a baggy shirt and comfy looking sweatpants, "You called?" you smirked, sauntering into the entrance hall. "Hell yeah I did," he said, looking you up and down as you walked. 

"Where do you want me?" you asked, dropping the trench coat to reveal the short denim shorts and the bralette that covered less than is showed off. "You can wait there," he said, padding up the stairs and into his room. 

Out of his bedside table drawer, he grabbed something that he was desperate to try out on you since he had seen it and bought it. He held it behind his back as he reapproached you, standing in front of you. "Can I try something on you?" he asked. 

He would always ask when it came to new things, even if he knew that you were going to say yes every time. You were open to trying whatever, and if you didn't like it, he would stop. "Yeah," you nodded as he came closer to you.

He revealed the item from behind his back, and it was definitely something you wanted to try out before. He secured the leather strap with a large metal ring in the center around your neck. "What do we do with this now?" you asked, not sure on where this was going.

"Patience, princess, patience," he tutted, rummaging around in his pocket and producing a long, silver chain. Without another word, he clipped it to the silver ring and gave it a light tug, pulling you forward. As you gazed into his eyes, they darkened with a clouded haze of desire. 

"Come with me," he said, walking away from you and trying to pull you along with him. 

"But I want to do the couch first," you whined, knowing what would happen if you protested against what he said. Yanking you close to him, he lightly slapped you in the face. It had happened before, and it put a goofy smile on your face.

"Who are you?" he asked, wiping the smirk off your face, wrapping the chain around his knuckles, pulling you in so you were only a few centimeters away from him. "I'm..." you trailed off, trapped under his intimidating gaze.

"Are you a slut?" he spat, gripping the chain so the strap around your neck tightened and choked you slightly. "Yes," you nodded.

"Whose slut are you?" he asked condescendingly. 

"Yours," you told him, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

"And who am I?" he huffed, winding the chain even tighter around his hand.

"D-Daddy," you stuttered, knowing that was exactly what he wanted to hear. The whole 'daddy' thing was a complete accident. It slipped out once, and you found out that Daniel adored it. "So that makes you," he prompted.

"Daddy's slut," you told him, knowing how much he reveled in hearing those words come out of your mouth. "That's fucking right," he said, "Next time, I want that answer first time around, alright?" he instructed.

"Yes," you nodded, "Daddy," you drew out, loving how you could make him melt just by uttering a few words. "Good fucking girl, now come with me," he praised, tugging you along behind him like a dog on a leash. 

He dragged you through the house and up the stairs, straight into his bedroom. He may have been into things that were on the wilder side, but he was a sucker for the bedroom. 

It wasn't long before your shorts and bralette were on the floor, leaving you with the chain dangling down your chest. It was cold on your skin, but not unwelcome - not by any means. "On the bed, hands and knees," he instructed, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor. 

You didn't hesitate a bit, stepping over to the bed and crawling onto it. As instructed, you positioned yourself on your hands and knees. Behind you, you felt a presence as the mattress sunk by your knees. 

"So wet and I haven't even touched you yet... Such a slut for me," he groveled, placing one of his hands on your hip and tugging the strap around so he could still pull the chain from behind. "I don't even need to spend the time getting you ready for me, you've done it all by yourself. Such a good girl,"    

Even the tiny praises he sung for you got your heart pounding in your chest more than anything else could. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you were caught by surprise when you felt him teasing your entrance. 

As you waited, you shuffled your hips backwards, asking for him. "You've got to tell me what you want, princess," he teased, and you could just hear the smirk he had on his face as he spoke to you. "I want you to fuck me," you said, without skipping a beat.

"That's a good girl, knows what she wants," he said, tugging on the chain. Inch by inch, he eased into you and let you get accustomed to the stretch. Even if you both like it rough, he would always make sure you were comfortable before starting anything. 

Slowly, he started thrusting in and out of you, causing you to let out a moan of pleasure. "Oh, so that's how you like it?" he mocked, picking up the pace and yanking the chain a bit harder. 

"Fuck yes," you groaned, your hand slinking down to massage your clit to give you the extra stimulation that drove you over the edge. As he carried on rocking his hips back and forth into you, you were crumbling underneath him.

The room was filled with a combination of your moans, Daniel's groans of pleasure and the sound of bare skin slapping against each other. With his every movement, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to release. 

"Shit, don't stop," you pleaded, stars slowly starting to cloud your vision.

"God I love it when you beg for me," he mewled  as he tugged on the chain eve harder, cutting off your oxygen supply even more. It just made you even crazier for him. 

You felt hot tears pricking at the backs of your eyes as he sent you over the edge. Strings of expletives fell from your lips as tingles erupted through your body. Your legs and arms were buckling underneath you as you collapsed down to the mattress in a crumpled heap.

"You're not done yet, princess. Come on, up," he said, tapping you and you rolled over to look at him. "You've got one more thing to take care of, baby," he cooed, pulling you up by the chain that was still around your neck. 

You sunk down to your knees in front of him, immediately taking his sodden dick in your hands and guiding it into your mouth. As your head bobbed back and forth, up and down, you were gagging every time it hit the back of your throat. 

The more you went, the drier your throat became. Just as he was about to reach his climax, you pulled back, gasping for air and trying to build up some more saliva in your throat.  "Princess, come on now," he sighed, disappointed. 

"Too dry," you choked out, looking up at him through glassy eyes. 

"Open," he tutted, and you opened your mouth with your head still tilted up to him. A wad of spit plopped into your mouth with a wet thud, some of it landing on your lips. You tongue poked out to collect the droplets, and you were soon ready to get back to business.

You picked back up where you left off, your hands gently twisting around the base and your head bobbing up and down the length of his shaft. One of his hands balled your hair up in a fist behind your head, moving your head with more ferocity.

"Shit, princess. Just like that. Such a good fucking girl," he rambled on through gritted teeth. He threw his head back as low groans rumbled out from his throat. He didn't need to tell you that he was about to finish, you felt him twitching in your hands. 

Just like that, hot, salty liquid spewed out into the back of your throat, and it slightly burned as you swallowed it. As you drew your head back, the tip sprung out with a satisfying 'pop'. You ran your tongue over your lips, soaking up the final few remnants. 

"You did such a good job," he praised, unclipping the leather from around your neck. He pulled you up off your knees and gently guided you over to the bed, pushing you down. He collected a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up, before snuggling in bed next to you.

He pulled you close so your head was resting comfortably on his chest and you could hear his heart slowly beating. "You did great, baby," he softly mumbled, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. For a moment, you thought you could get used to this, but you mentally scolded yourself. 

This was never meant to be more, and you would just have to be content with what you had. 

A/N - I hope this was alright! I didn't have a clue how to write some of it and I tried my best. If anyone has any other submissions/requests, I would love to write them. Thank you and have a wonderful day!

|masterlist|

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 3)

Word Count - 3.7k

Summary - It’s been a couple months since you last had contact with Lt. Simon Ghost Riley. While you are repairing your tarnished reputation, Simon is on the other side working from the shadows and doing everything he can to take back his words. It isn’t until the three-month marker that you finally face him again, this time you’re willing to hear him out. If only because you guys are going to be team members.               

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Maybe a little bit of angst, Mentions of childhood trauma

A/N - as we near the end of this storyline I would like to thank everyone for their love and support and I appreciate every one of you guys 🤍🤍🤍  I am also going to post a brief POV from Ghost later, and one more part, two at tops.   

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2   

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It had been a month since you last spoke with Ghost and since then you learned three things. The first was that he truly was a ghost. He haunted hallways and existed only in rumors and whispers. He made himself seen only when he wanted to be. For the rest of his assignment, he kept his distance. You figured since you have yet to see him it was because he was better at spotting you first and turning in the other direction. Soap would still drop by and fill you in on the latest 141 gossip. It didn’t go over your head that Soap never had any gossip about Ghost. Never once did Soap mention him. Whether Soap figured out that something had gone down on his own or forced it out of Ghost himself was a mystery. You didn’t have the energy or care to ask. 

The second is that whatever he had been previously telling the higher up was either rescinded or someone had put in a good word about you. If it was Ghost or not, you also didn’t know. Nor did it matter if it was him, the damage was done. You put your hand up for every opportunity, followed every rule, and every patient that came to you left you with positive feedback. You were an HR dream.     

The third was that you missed his company. Even a month after you were still fuming, still ready to rip his tongue out should you see him again. Still heartbroken and yet some part of you still missed Ghost. You kept a very tight leash on that part of you and squashed it beneath your boot. How was it fair that his fuck up, and his selfishness resulted in you losing a friend. It wasn’t, and that’s what you were most bitter about. 

After two months, you have decided to let go of the anger and hurt. It wasn’t going to help you now. You kept yourself preoccupied with work and more work. You were still based in the new camp, now dubbed Fort Cardinal, which has since become one of the biggest bases.     

You were just leaving the mess hall after breakfast when you were intercepted in the hallway. 

“L/n?” the private asked.

“Yes?” your brows furrowed. 

“Crawford wants to speak to you. He’s in his office.”

Crawford was the commanding officer, and when he summoned someone to his office it could mean only a few things. Most of them were bad. You pivoted and headed towards HQ. You might have taken the scenic route too. Pausing at the entrance to Crawfords office.  “Sir,” you stood by the doorway waiting for your CO to acknowledge you, “you requested I come to see you.” 

He looked up from the files splayed out on his desk, “Take a seat.”

You pulled out a chair opposite him, your palms began to sweat and you wiped them on your pants. Racking your brain to try and remember if you had done something wrong, or inappropriate, but came up blank. 

“How many years have you been with us?” he questioned, folding his hands over the papers.

“Four, Sir,” you straightened your back and squared your shoulders.    

He stared at you for a second, his face hard, before nodding and looking back to the papers. They were your files. A collection of reports and logs and records, “It’s of my understanding that you’ve voiced your desire for a transfer.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Since your enlistment, your peers and superiors have had nothing but good things to say about you. Your records show that you excelled in both the field and the classroom. Never missed a work day, never late,” he began listing things off from the note in front of him. You couldn’t tell if he was impressed or irritated, and it was psyching you out. He paused as he flipped through, “Have you fully recovered from your injury?” 

“Healed like a dream,” you offered him a tight-lipped smile. It did, after the first couple of weeks you were back at work in full force. 

“Good to hear,” he flipped a page back so it was facing you, “Any idea what this might have been for?” It would have looked the same as any other report aside from the fact that it was entirely redacted. Whatever was written beneath had been obscured by a thick black line. 

You leaned forward, your smile fading into a frown. You shook your head, “I have no idea. No.” This was the first time you saw your files all laid out like this, so you were just as lost as him. Whoever redacted it must have been of higher status than him if even he didn’t know. Then again, you weren’t sure about what happened behind closed doors. You met his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking and when you couldn’t you wanted to melt into your seat. 

“There’s been an opening,” he leaned back in his chair, “Aerospace medicine has requested a combat medic. It’ll be a one year contract. Should you take this position you will be sent out for a three week training program and your first assignment will be right after that. ”

If it weren’t for those four years of service and learning that people like your CO didn’t like a show of emotions you would have hopped around his office. So, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue. 

“The captain of Special Task Forces 141 has requested you himself for their next mission.”

Your heart dropped.  

“Captain Price?” you echoed. Maybe it was a different 141. 

“Correct,” he waved a hand, his patience shortening, “Yes or no?” 

“Yes,” you answered before you could think it over, and he excused you before you could process your answer. This was what you had been asking for, what you were working towards, and now that it had been offered to you you were left uneasy. Working with the 141 was an honour and a nod to your capabilities. It also meant working with Lt. Simon Riley. You couldn’t unscramble your feelings about the implications. 

You determined that professionalism would yield the best outcome.  

You were packed and heading out for your training by lunch.    

When you entered the briefing room, it was as relaxed as you expected from the 141. Which was not at all. The air was thick and sober. You were half an hour early and still the last to arrive.

“Morning,” Price stepped around the table everyone was surrounding. 

“Good morning,”  you replied, making your way to the table. Laswell met up with you during your training to give you a rundown on what to expect. You were going to be their combat medic, yes, but you could fight and shoot just as well as any other soldier. You even had the grounds to brag about your close combat skills. Laswell was visibly pleased when you told her your dad forced you into mixed martial arts when you were ten years old, and could take down a full-grown man like he was a bag of flour. 

You scanned the table and the map splayed out was a replica of the one Laswell had provided. You tried to hide the smile and pointed to the empty medicine vial on the map, “Is that supposed to be me?” 

“Aye,” Soap puffed his chest out, “that was my doing.” 

When you looked up at Soap, you purposefully ignored the large burly man dressed in all black beside him, “Creative,” you noted how Ghost seemed to shrink back into the shadows at your indifference towards him. 

Soap had actually picked everyone's avatar, a sniper bullet, a lighter, a toy skeleton, and an angel wing that looked like it used to be a necklace, and a battery. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh at the figurines or the fact that everyone accepted them. 

Price ran through the plan, the target, and his expectations of everyone. He revealed that the target was going to be “Cameron Rowe” , a former sergeant turned rogue. His headshot was stabbed into the table with a knife. You recognized it as Ghosts, the blade usually fixed to his thigh. 

“Since we have no real idea as to where Rowe will be we’ll be splitting off into teams.”         You had to suck your lips into your mouth to keep from making an argument when Price moved your vial next to the skeleton on the map.  “Soap and Laswell with nest at the top of these two buildings,” he pointed to the two highrises in front and behind Rowe’s apartment building. “Doc and Ghost will take watch at the port,” he dragged his finger to the loading docs, which was usually Rowe’s meeting place. “Gaz and I will be tailing his informers and hopefully, catch them in the act.” 

You had a sneaking suspicion they stuck you with Ghost was to balance out the teams. Ghost was a one man army, you were basically going to keep him company. Or so they thought. You didn’t plan on sharing a single conversation with him, and you knew you could easily hold your own. The 141 had plans of not only taking down Rowe but finding out whoever he was working with. So, they couldn’t just pick him off in his apartment building. 

After the briefing and everyone knew their role people started to filter back out. You stayed behind to speak with Price, having a few questions of your own.

“Captain,” you started and he turned back around, “Why ask for me?” This assignment was only temporary, you weren’t a part of the 141, but Price could have picked anyone in the world to help with this job. 

“I read your file,” he closed the door behind him, coming to meet you by the table again, “You have an impressive background, and it makes me wonder why you chose the medical field.”

You were at the top of your class for both basics and medical school, so it was a genuine curiosity. He also probably had access to your life before enlistment, “It’s what I wanted,” was the only answer you could give him, and it’s the only one you had.

He hummed, his eyes turning to slits, “Then why agree?” 

“I’ve been waiting for something like this since day one. How was I supposed to say no?” You’ve been waiting for an opportunity to show your versatility. This mission might have been overkill but it was what you wanted. Beggars can’t be choosers. 

“You’re a strange one,” Price crossed his arms over his chest, “You’ll fit in great,” he looked like he had something else to say but changed his mind. He tilted his head towards the door, “Better go and get some rest, we leave at 0400 tomorrow.”   

You nodded, parting off with a “Thank you,” before heading to the door.

“Can we talk?” Ghost was waiting outside the door when you left the room. 

You shot him a blank look, “About?” you kept walking down the hall not waiting to hear his answer. 

He followed after you, “I want to apologize.” 

You exited the building and met with a blast of the hot sticky air of summer, the sun was getting low in the sky, “Go ahead, Judas” you turned to him, making eye contact with his chest. You gritted your teeth when you had to look up at him, “I’ll keep it civil for the sake of the mission but I don’t want to be your friend.”

His shoulders loosened as if he had just received the best news, “I understand,” he shifted back on his feet, his tired eyes scanning the area, before returning to you, “I was out of line. I was mixing private affairs with work, I see that now. And I’m sorry. I was being selfish and I wasn’t taking your needs and wants into consideration. So, if you’ll give me some grace and let me show you how good I can be.”  

“Keep your fingers out of my business and I’ll think about it,” you quipped. 

He lifted his hands before him, splaying his fingers out before curling them into a fist, “They’re put away,” he might have broken your trust and crossed you but he was still the friend you lost and missed. He was going to have to work for it either way. This was a start.    

“We can talk more later,” where there were fewer listening ears and watchful eyes. “I’ll come to you when I’m good and ready. For now, just stay away from me,” you’d think after 3 months you’d have figured out what you’d say to him, but you didn’t. And tomorrow you were going to be trapped in a room with him, so you were going to have to cross your t's and dot your i’s tonight to present them to him for tomorrow. 

He physically flinched at the dismissal, but he took a step back, providing you with space, “Of course.”  

Your chest twisted at the sight, you didn’t like treating him like a disease, but you refused to let it blind you of the truth. Still. You sighed, cursing yourself for what you were about to say, “Thank you, for apologizing.” 

His eyes crinkled in the corners and you could have sworn they gave way to a smile. The awe-worthy occurrence was sadly hidden underneath his mask. You rolled your eyes at him before pivoting and walking towards the barracks.      

You sat with Laswell on a stray crate on the tarmac while you waited for the rest of the team to arrive. The two of you just people watched, with her occasionally pointing someone out and telling you a little about them. This guy was grounded a couple of weeks ago because he arrived at work still drunk from the night before. That guy had a crazy, entitled wife. 

The chopper started its engine and was ready for lift-off at exactly 0359.   

“Doc, about our talk yesterday. I also figured you want to take part and get some revenge for yourself,” Price bellowed over the sound of the chopper, and he ducked below the propellers. Realization sprung to life in your chest. Price had asked for you to be on this mission because you had something to gain from it. This Rowe guy, this squealer had been the one to rat out the convoy to the enemy. He was the reason you were injured, and the reason Butters was dead. This wasn’t the sleight of hand of Ghost but Price. It put your nerves at ease and allowed you to be a little less angry with the former.      

“I appreciate it, Sir,” you nodded at Price.  He clapped a hand over your shoulder and hopped into the helicopter after you. Being squished between Price and Soap made you feel a little safer with the fact that there were no doors on the heli. Ghost took his spot on the side of the heli, letting his legs hang out the side, his gun at the ready. Gaz sat opposite him and Laswell adjacent to you. Her pack and gun took up an entire seat. She reached into her front pouch as the heli lifted off the ground, pulling out a chocolate bar. Your mouth watered. Chocolate was hard to come back at base, people traded whole MREs for one bar. Soap handed you a headset for the chopper just as she noticed your drooling expression. 

“If you promise you can get an appointment with the chiro, I’ll give you some,” she waggled the bar in front of her, a trade.

“I know both the chiropractor and the masseuse,” you countered. She made a look of delight, before reaching into her pack and tossing you your own bar. 

Oh, you liked her.    

You stuffed the back into the small day pack at your feet, saving it for later. Acutely aware that if you opened it here at least two people on this aircraft would put their hand out for a piece. You eyed Gaz and Soap. 

The helicopter had been an hour's flight, and they had landed on a field. Without permission, you might add so you had to be quick on the exit. A line of blacked-out SUVs and trucks was waiting for a quick escape. Price ordered everyone to join up with their duo, and head to their discussed position. 

Ghost strode for one of the SUVs, opening the back to place his pack and guns. He stepped to the side to allow you to do the same and closed it after you. He was spinning the keys around his finger when he turned to you, “Who’s driving?” 

You didn’t respond, instead, you opened the passenger door and slid in. From the side mirror, you could see him look up at the sky, take a couple of deep breaths, then clasp his hands together before moving to enter the car. He was silent the rest of the way, his attention on the road. Even through the mask, you could see his jaw tighten and flex. 

He parked the SUVs at the back of the building, between the wall and another vehicle. He lead you into the building, a warehouse or collection center of some sort into the offices on the second floor. He pointed out exit routes and potential areas to hold our position. The gravity of his pointing stuff out like that said a lot about how he thought this mission was going to pan out. The thought should have frightened you but knowing that the Ghost was fighting on the same side as you had the opposite effect. The office he brought you into was already vacant, with nothing but an empty desk and a chair on each side. He locked the door and placed his gun on the desk, and informed Price over the radio that we were in place. You made your way to the window, pulling one of the vanes down to peek outside. The window gave a good view of the entrance of the port and a decent view of the sea cans.       

“How long will he have to camp out here?” you asked, letting go of the blinds. 

“The day. Maybe into tomorrow,” he shrugged, as he started pulling things from his pack, “Depends on Rowe, really. Price and Gaz have the biggest probability of catching him. Laswell is going to be our eyes in the sky, and Soap already has access to the cameras in Rowe’s apartment, and a couple in this harbour.” 

You took a seat in one of the swivel chairs, “And you?” 

He paused, his eyes refusing to meet yours, “I’m more for after we catch him,” he cleared his throat. The question made him awkward, he didn’t want you to know what exactly it was that he did. You had your ideas and presumptions already but his hesitation had you second guessing.   

“You the one who’s going to get the information out of him?” he picked up one of the blades he had laid out on the desk, turning it over in your hand. He watched you, following your movements with predatory grace. 

“Is that why I’m here?” you continued, “To make sure he stays alive long enough to give you that information?” He was the butcher and you were the surgeon. A strange dichotomy. 

He stilled, “I don’t want you to see it.”      

“It”, being what he was going to do. What he was trained to do. What he was good at. You placed the knife back on the table, pushing away with the wheels on the chair. You prepared yourself for the upcoming confession. Playing this out in your head last night was way easier than actually doing it.  

“You know, I think you and I have very similar pasts,” you looked down at your hands, at the lines and curves etched into them.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, and his shoulders rolled forward. 

“I also think we took very different paths, though,” you saw it in his eyes the moment you met, the wounds that were too deep to see on the surface. It was why you understood him, and why you were going to forgive him, “You don’t have to hide it from me, Riley. I’ve seen the worst in humanity, and I know that you are nothing like them”  

You didn’t think he was breathing, didn’t think he was in his body. When you met his stare, his eyes were wide, and his pupils were pinpricks. You stood up from the chair and walked to his side of the table, “Can I touch you?” 

It was barely noticeable but he nodded. You wrapped your arms underneath his arm and pressed your cheek to his shoulder. He immediately returned the gesture, his arms encircling your shoulders, his one hand reaching up to cradle your head to him. He released a shuddering breath, and if you closed your eyes and focused hard enough you could hear his heart hammering against his chest. 

“There isn’t anything you can do that will make me think you're a monster,” you whispered into his shoulder, “Aside from maybe sabotaging my career,” it was almost a joke. 

“Noted,” you could hear the smile in between his words. Feel the relief thawing his muscles. You pulled back just as Soap and Laswell confirmed their position. Ghost took a step back himself, “We should get set up.”  

He pushed the desk so it was against the same wall as the window, propping his gun onto and looked down the scope to the entrance of the port. 

You settled down and at the end of the desk, it was going to be a long, boring wait. You set to counting the bullets in the magazine Ghost pulled from his pack if only to find something to distract yourself. You were elated when he pulled a deck of cards from his pack and the two of you played a couple of rounds of poker, then switched to go fish. There was also the occasional chatter about what each other did in the three months you were separated. The both of you had become incredibly busy. 

It was nearing dusk by the time anything of importance aired over the radio. 

Price’s eager voice came through, “Ghost, Doc, we’re following the informants to the port. Be at the ready.”    

Part 3.5, Part 4

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A/N - the sniper bullet is Soap, the lighter is Price, the toy skeleton is Ghost, the angel wing is Gaz, and the battery is Laswell. Also, also, Price is definitely playing Cupid.

Tag List - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @marytvirgin​ ❤︎ @stickygumchewer​ ❤︎ @lauraliisa​ ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy​ ❤︎ @lululandd​ ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy​ ❤︎ @naxxsstuff​ ❤︎@sididakra-jo,   @yukisawer​ ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @kat-nee

[voxisdaddy]

ABOUT YOUR AGENT 1 POST. I feel like the recent episode, considering he's seen on a leash. and HEAR ME OUT.

I think hes into pet play.

LIKE ITS RIGHT THERE. He crawls and goes fuzzy in the head and would probably fucking whimper when you called him good boy!

Obedient Pet

It's my new babygirl, Agent One! He can take a seat right next to my other babygirl, Vox <3

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairings: Agent One x Reader

Type: Headcanons + Rambles | NSFW

C/TW: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, pet play, breeding kink, Sub!Agent One x Dom!Reader, reader written as mostly Gender-Neutral, kinda short sorry, i call him a 'bitch' at one point IM SORRY

In which Agent One is leashed and is such a good boy!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ To be honest i can't really say i'm into it but like I'd be down for him lol I can imagine he'd lay on the bed whimpering, eyes threatening to roll to back of his head or throw his head back because of just how good you're riding him but then you tug on the leash to make him look at you

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I see him being hesitant about it when you first try it. Like okay he's a bottom, that's a hard truth for him to swallow, now a leash? Really? He tries it for the heck of it and my, my, guess who turned into the biggest whimpering bitch?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lowkey does not want to try anything else degrading because he's afraid of how far his bottom and sub energy will go. He want's to have some dignity when he leaves the bedroom

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Definitely whimpers at being called a good boy! I feel like it gets to him so easily too. Like he could be making a pot of coffee or whatever and you come up behind him, asking him to make you a cup. He replies, "sure", and as you walk away you give his hip a squeeze with "good boy" whispered in his ear then stalk off. He'd freeze up and nearly drop his mug

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Glances around before speedwalking after you and bringing you into the nearest small private room with a harsh tug. He'd scold you; "we're in public", "you can't do that!", "not here!"

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Becomes a frustrated, flustered mess when you tease him about it; "I barely did anything, sweetheart.", "Are you this worked up already?", "it was one little word~"

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Intrusive thought—can we put a lil collar around it and lightly tug on it when giving him head—?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Kinda unrelated but I feel like he'd develop a huge breeding kink from being leashed? Something about you tugging on his leash while he fucks into you, I see this man as a submissive top from time to time, gets him going and he can't help but want to push deeper as his end nears. Would beg like, "Can I cum inside? Please please Ill do anything. Let me cum inside please—"

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ And once you give him permission he cums so quickly and pushes as deep as he can go

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh and also I feel like he'd need your hand combing through his hair as he gives you head. It's not a want, it's a need. Throw in a couple of "good boy"'s in there and he'll moan as his mind goes fuzzy

This probably wasn't exactly what you were thinking/asking for, I'm sorry!

[sapphicdib]

my headcanon is that nhs thinks that they are more powerful than sliver idk i just feel that they THAT full of themselves

I’m assuming this is about the rot au! I recently added SOS to it, so this was a perfect ask!!

Sliver is local group Senior of a nearby cluster of iterators, which includes Chasing Wind. She never got along with Sig in general, and Moon was on thin ice. Now? She’s fucking PISSED. More below the cut bc this is gonna get LONG (also a transcript in case my handwriting is illegible).

So because the ancients are still alive during the rot au, Sliver hasn’t died yet. She is one of the youngest local group Seniors, one of the first of the mid gen Iterators, (her arm design matches Sig and Wind’s!) so she feels like she has to prove herself to the others. She takes her purpose and duties VERY seriously, so I put Wind in her Group, because his intense personality in relation to his citizens matches more to how Sliver would mentor someone, rather than Moon or Suns. Speaking OF Moon, they have a very tense relationship. Moon is a lot more laid back with her Group because when her personality cores were still stabilizing, her citizens treated her more like an accomplishment, an amazing feat, her construction was met with jubilation! Meanwhile, by the time Sliver was built, she was just another iterator, and meant to work like she was supposed to. Of course there was celebration, but her citizens treated her more as a means to an end, so she picked up on this and integrated it into her personality. When she was first put online, she did idolize Moon quite a bit, but eventually came to see her as a kinda shitty leader and too soft on her local group, especially Sig. She refers to Moon as Sig’s “handler” because she thinks he acts incredibly immaturely, and Moon is the one who has to yank his leash any time he gets a bit too annoying (though she doesn’t do a very good job, in Sliver’s opinion).

Sliver does not like Sig. Never has, and this shit has pushed her over the edge. She is incredibly aware of the intense political ramifications Sig and Pebbles’ actions have caused, and as local group Senior, she feels it is her responsibility to calm her group down and prevent them from getting hurt. She knows certain factions of citizens want to literally kill their iterators thanks to this, and if one of her group died she would see it as a MASSIVE failure on her part. She thinks it would make everyone think that she is an incompetent leader. In terms of her relationship with Pebbles, she still didn’t like him before, but she at least respected the fact he actually had a drive to solve the great problem, unlike Sig. Now she blames him for this mess as well, and is just as pissed at him.

As the news of this unfortunate development spreads, many workgroups are created, all with different goals. Some want to find a cure for the rot, to help calm Sig and Pebbles back down and hopefully repair their relationships with their citizens. Others are considering joining them, terrified of their citizens’ reactions and confiding in one another about what they should do. Sliver wants them dead. She is in a small workgroup that is attempting to find a way to straight up deactivate Sig and Pebbles to restore order. The problem is, she is not their senior and has no seniority privileges over them, so she has to figure out a way to take matters into her own hands.

Wind…Wind is Sig’s best friend. He is barely 50 cycles older than her, and despite Sliver’s VEHEMENT disapproval, they are very close. He plays video games with Sig and rants about his citizens being annoying, he actually drops his stoic personality around him and can chill out for a little while. However, despite the fact that he demands his citizen’s respect and is practically a dictator over his city, he is terrified of them. So, he took initiative when he was put online and scared THEM into submission before they had the chance to. Now? He’s even more afraid. He thinks his citizens will take the first opportunity to deactivate him in a form of rebellion. At first, he’s part of workgroups to try to find a cure, but eventually joins a few groups that are considering joining Sig and Pebbles. As the rot gets worse and he watches Sig’s personality get more and more corrupted, he realizes there’s no way to cure this in time, and…that’s a spoiler I might keep to myself for now >:3€

Thank you for being interested in my silly au!! I’ve actually started writing it, and chapter 1 is almost done! Feel free to send more asks x3

————

TRANSCRIPT:

SOS: This idiotic stunt of yours has gone too far. I am not asking you to fix this. I am telling you to.

CW: Sig…

SOS: Quiet, Wind.

SOS: I fail to understand why your handler refuses to do anything. You take Moon’s foolish mercy for granted. I will not be so kind.

NSH: PFFT!

NSH: “Handler”? Well that’s a new one~

NSH: Unfortunately for you,

NSH: You have no power over me.

NSH: No one does anymore.

[wifelinkmtg]

Wifelink: Murders! #sponsored

Welcome back to the best dumb idea I've ever had! Murder has come to the City of Guilds. Well, murder lives here, but it's crept out of the shadows, crawled up from the undercity, slunk through steam and oozed its way out of the breeding pools, and guild leaders are dropping like coins from a debtor's mouth. Who could be responsible? Who could be next? Who was that woman slipping furtively into an alley, and what's her deal? Is she single? Some of these questions and more will be answered on today's episode. Live from Ravnica, this... is Wifelink.

But first, a word from today's sponsor: picture this - it's your turn to host the monthly meeting of your true crime book club, and you maybe haven't finished Massacre: the true story of Ravnica's bloodiest killings and the woman behind them, and now you're trying to decide whether to finish it so you don't look like an idiot in the discussion group, or to spend time whipping up hors d'oeuvres so you don't have to serve everyone the same stupid veggies-and-ranch plate you did last time and suffer once more through Joanna's veiled disapproval. But what if I told you there was a way to get professionally-made charcuterie shipped directly to your home, leaving you the time you need to finish your last few chapters and craft a trenchant discussion question just in time for the doorbell? With Hello Flesh, it's just that easy: the incredible chefs at Hellbender will provide you with a mouthwatering selection of their finest meats: prosciutto, summer sausage, capicola, pastrami, and much, much more! Go to helloflesh dot com now, and sign up using offer code KNIFELINK to get your first month absolutely free! That's helloflesh dot com, offer code K-N-I-F-E-L-I-N-K. Hello Flesh: Don't ask where the meat comes from.

WAIT, WE'RE DOING RAVNICA? DIDN'T YOU SKIP A COUPLE SETS

What are you, Azorius? I've never felt any fondness for Eldraine, and I really didn't vibe with the new Ixalan set, so we're doing the Ravnica Murder Mystery set. I'm not going to do every single set that comes out or this will be my full-time job by 2026.

Cold Case Cracker (art by Wayne Wu)

Some things are very simple. Good cheekbones and the classic trench coat with the wide belt. I particularly enjoy the way her hair looks more like strips of fabric or parchment.

Merchant of Truth (art by Carissa Susilo)

"Goth angel" works on me every time, and this piece is particularly gorgeous - the composition and that dress, my goodness. You don't see a lot of angels from behind in Magic, on account of you would have to figure out what the anatomy and clothing situation is where the wings connect to the back, and Carissa has solved the clothing problem rather elegantly, and refused to engage with the anatomy problem at all. I can respect that.

I've never quite understood what's going on with Orzhov angels - I think they're mostly supposed to be disillusioned ex-Boros, but they don't really get much of a voice in story. You've got the flavor text on Angel of Despair, "it is as if their duty is to an empty void," but that's a quote from the most Boros of all the angels. Perhaps it's simply that the Orzhov don't labor under the same illusions as the other white-aligned guilds - the Boros and the Azorius and as we see in this story, even the Selesnya are all firmly entrenched in the idea that they stand for what's Right and Good on Ravnica, but ultimately they stand only for themselves and their own power and pre-eminence. The Orzhov, at least, make no secret of this. Maybe that's a comfort, to an angel.

Experiment Twelve (art by Michele Giorgi)

Oh baby girl the Simic fucked you right up, didn't they. Claws and scales and some sort of muzzle - do you feel like an animal, now? Do you hate what they did to you, or do you glory in your new sharpness? Did you escape, or are you on their leash? Are you hunted, or am I?

Bubble Smuggler (art by Leesha Hannigan)

This is Glovax. I've only had them for a day but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in the room and then myself.

Honestly I'm disconsolate that this isn't a real animal that exists in the world and that I'll never get to rescue one from an aquarium and have an octopus fish best friend for life. You know that soul-sick feeling you get when you remember that Anomalocaris has been extinct for 500 million years ago and that you will never be able to pet one? Yeah. Goddammit they're going to make this a pet on Arena and I will spend real earth dollars on it.

ALL THESE TENTACLES AND STILL THE BIGGEST SUCKER IS YOU. NOW MAKE WITH THE LEGENDARIES

Etrata, Deadly Fugitive (art by Livia Prima)

I have looked at a whole lot of Etrata art, and do you want to know my considered opinion? This outfit fucking rules. It's got one and a quarter sleeves, thirteen visible buckles, a circular collar that connects only at the sternum, and a clingy ankle-length skirt with a slit damn near up to the thigh to reveal more buckles. It is the least practical outfit I can imagine an assassin wearing short of an inflatable dinosaur costume but god, it looks like it's meant for deadly stealth, and I am in love. Etrata is broody and gorgeous and has a big knife and extraordinarily naked shoulders, and what else could you want?

Judith, Carnage Connoisseur (art by Jodie Muir)

A look specifically crafted to elicit "step on me mommy"s from the general public. I'm on record as saying that there's no way Judith does any sort of aftercare, so maybe have a Selesnya cleric on speed-dial if you're gonna run that risk.

Judith, Carnage Connoisseur (alternate art by Alex Dos Diaz)

I think Loxodon Hierarch is screening my calls.

Honestly, I would do stupid, stupid things for a pretty girl with red eyes, sharp nails and facial scarring. I'm not sure what kinds of things I would do for a pretty girl with gold flame decals on her arms, but based on prior evidence, they would probably also be extremely stupid.

Izoni, Center of the Web (art by Justine Cruz)

It's weird how people get locked in your memory at the point in time you knew them. You know you've changed a lot since then, and if you thought about it you'd agree other people might well also have changed, but you don't think about it, and then you run into an old friend or an ex and the things you knew them for, the things you've tied their memory to in your mind, aren't even still part of their life.

So Izoni, my beloved Izoni, Ravnica's foremost bug girl and finder of beetles, has moved on with her life in the past six years. She's into spiders now, that's her thing. She's a spider girl. And that's cool, spiders are cool, too, but the way this went in my head I was going to tell her about the mantis-riders of Tarkir and the dune-beetles of Amonkhet and the behavioral quirks of giant ants on Innistrad and now, instead, I'm not sure what to say. "You're looking well," I suppose, or something about, "so, leading the Swarm now? How's that going for you?"

Analyze the Pollen (art by Anna Christenson)

It's not even that big a change, really. Hardly noticeable. She still has that same intensity, that same curiosity. Her brows still furrow in concentration. She's still covered in crawling things, and she is still the most beautiful woman on Ravnica. Spiders or insects, what's the difference? All it means is that six years have passed. All it means is that the places and people you love continue to move in your absence. All it means is that you're both talking past each other to your echoes, to the people you used to know, who no longer exist. Time has eaten them both.

And if you, like time, get hungry, don't forget to use our affiliate code KNIFELINK at -

HEY. HELLO FLESH IS A RAKDOS JOINT, RIGHT

- in the middle of the ad read, dude?

YOU SAID HELLBENDER CHEFS DO THE CHARCUTERIE. THAT'S JUDITH'S PLACE

Yeah, what about it?

DO YOU THINK SHE'S GONNA BE GOOD WITH CONTENT SHE SPONSORED CALLING SOMEONE ELSE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN RAVNICA

Ah.

OR LIKE DO YOU THINK SHE'S GENERALLY COMFORTABLE SHARING THE SPOTLIGHT

...so thank you all so much for listening to this episode of Wifelink! I'm going to lay low for a bit, and if my body turns up face-down in an undercity canal, y'all know who did it.

[lovefrombegonia]

Just some rambling IWTV season 2 flashback to the dreadful ep of Lestat throwing Louis from the sky...

⚠️ SPOILER WARNING ⚠️

In the trial episode, when there was a flashback to what happened that night with Louis and Lestat...well...from what we know now, they beat each other. And when Louis just smashed Lestat's face on their coffin so hard, they fell to the opposite sides, I laughed so fucking hard. Like WTF 💀💀 I was actually reluctant to watching any flashback to that episode but I am glad that they didn't make it what I thought they did back then. Anyways, back at them vampire boyfriends having a meltdown while they give zero fucks about their terrified, traumatized daughter, I calmed down a bit,, it's getting serious...

Then Louis tried to get up, looked at Lestat's face, and started laughing while saying "look at your fucking face". Cut to Lestat's face--bruh I was laughing like a psychopath at the man's bloody face 😂😂 coz he did look fucking horrible like a bloody clown, mouth half open! Eyes all like this: 🩸👁️👄👁️🩸

This is extra weird to me when I think about how the same event but in season 1, from Claudia's POV was so fucking horrifying and triggering to me. I almost wanted to shut the show down. Oh lord, I feel like I just enjoy seeing Lestat get beat up sometimes. That's ok. He deserves some beating. Louis gotta put a leash on him with how fucking feral he gets.

One thing tho, this was also Louis's retellings, right? In season 1. So, why did he say the story in such a way that it looked like, Lestat was just beating the shit out of him. Louis wouldn't lie just to make Lestat look worse than he already is. I don't get it coz, regardless of whether Louis did beat Lestat back or not, what Lestat did after that, by dropping Louis from sky high...that reaction from Lestat was already horrible enough on its own. Nowhere near a proportional reaction to what Louis did or said to him. So, Louis just...wanted to keep Daniel in suspense or what LOL Or was that scene from s1 supposed to be from Claudia's diary POV? I don't remember now if it was flashback to Daniel reading the diary. And I don't wanna watch that episode again. Might be that it's simply the show keeping us on our toes. If so then idk what to feel about the show doing that. I also don't think Lestat's face looked as bloody in s1 during this happening. Probably a continuity error. Or...a memory manipulation by Armand? Louis didn't at all notice the different retellings of the same night tho, neither did Daniel. Or maybe Lestat did have a bloody face.

Introducing the memory manipulation and memory erasing power gives some new meanings to previous events. Definitely, makes things more interesting. I do hope the seasons ahead are just as good as season 2 was. Even new powers. Show us Magnus and Akasha too. Armand looked shooketh when Lestat almost whisper-said the name 👀

I know that Akasha has a movie called Queen of the Damned. She looks...majestic. The Lestat beside her tho, looks like budget Edward Cullen. The movie has low ratings too. Idk if I should watch it and potentially spoil the future seasons. Or just wait for the next season and then watch it. I have seen a little bit of this film tho, on television. She just sauntered down vaguely in a disco. Hard to forget her, in that sexy attire and just fucking amazing look over all. Hot af

I already know some minor spoilers about Lestat. Well, one spoiler. That Lestat had...Alabama mommy issues 😭😭 what is this wrong with this French dude. Louis and Claudia really got paired with the most unhinged vampire...

[IGNORE EVERYTHING I SAY. I FEEL LIKE SHIT. I KNOW NOTHING.]

[seradae]

A Day At The Park [TF/NB] [puppyplay] [breeding]

I've never seen you more excited than when we pulled up to the new club in town, the Puppy Park. I had seen the owners posting on Fetlife and decided to take you once it had officially opened. Everyone was required to submit up to date STI tests, among other rules for the safety of the pups; a comforting and reassuring sight.

Once we got inside, we checked in at the reception and they verified our IDs, then I stripped you down and handed off your clothes for safekeeping. The receptionist buzzed us into the main room and you audibly gasped. A dozen or so puppies were walking around on their hands and knees, playing fetch and tug-of-war, rolling around, and just generally enjoying having a safe space.

I detached your leash and you dropped down on all fours, heading over to some of the other pups. With each movement forward, your tail wagged and I couldn't help but grin at how wet you were already, a distinct gleam under your tail.

You went up to a small group and gave a tentative bark of greeting, which they happily returned. One leaned down and rolled a ball toward you with her nose and you caught it with your teeth and growled playfully before rolling it back. She grinned and grabbed one end of a rope with her mouth, coming near you. You took the other end and pulled at it, the both of you fighting for dominance.

A woman in a beautiful floral sundress came up to me and said, "looks like our pups are having fun! That's Trixie and I'm Erica." She extended her hand and I took it, smiling warmly.

"He's Cat, and I'm Emma. They seem to be getting along well; it's so nice that they can just play!"

"She's been counting the days and I don't think she's the only one," she said, smiling. We both looked over just in time to see you licking Trixie's cheek and giggling. She licked you back then nipped playfully at your neck. "Be gentle, honey," Emma said across the room with a snicker.

You pounced on her and bite her neck softly, then let her roll back over, grins on both your faces. She moved behind you and nipped at your butt and rather than yelp, you let out a small moan and pushed your hips up.

She reached up and pushed your tail to the side before burying her face in your slit, lapping at you, eliciting loud moans. The other pups glanced at you, making you blush deeply, closing your eyes to focus on the sensation. Her long tongue felt like a dream and you could help but push back against her.

She pulled her face away and licked her lips, moaning at your taste. She climbed up on top of you and slid deep inside your little puppycunt, both of you half moaning, half whimpering in unison. She wasted no time, fucking you with reckless abandon right from the start. Suddenly, Emma whistled and called, "Trixie, come here!"

She growled and pulled out of you, going over to her owner. Emma said, "the rules of the house apply here too, pup. He gets to cum before you get to mount. Now go eat him like a good girl." You blushed even harder, watching this exchange play out and knowing that everyone there was now going to bear witness to what came next.

She came back to you and shoved her face between your legs, eating you out more fiercely than you had ever experienced. Her tongue danced across your clit in long strokes and you didn't care who heard you moan. You pressed back against her as she did everything in her power to make you cum hard.

With all eyes on you and a very motivated puppygirl lapping at your cunt, it would have been harder not to cum, and it didn't take long before your back was arching and you virtually fucking her face. You came with a loud moan, the orgasm ripping through you as she continued to lap at your clit. She slowed, then eventually stopped and moved around to lick your lips. You gave a sleepy little bark of gratitude, then wagged your hips and grinned at her.

That was all the instruction she needed. She mounted you and began to fuck you senseless, both of you whimpering and yipping. Her nails dug into your hips as she drove hard and fast into you, the rest of the room fading from your perspective; just two puppies in your own little world.

When she started to cum, you clenched down tight and she let out a sweet moan, plunging deep into you and exploding with a force you had rarely experienced before. The pulsations sent you over the edge and a second orgasm made its way through you, causing your little cunt to milk her for every last drop.

You both stayed frozen in place for a moment before she got off you and nuzzled your face, smiles all around. Then you noticed another puppygirl licking her lips and flicking her eyes to your tail suggestively.....