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#cheap primal?!
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Primal baby I just picked up from the AH <3
(new genes of left, old genes on right)
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skywarpshydroflask · 8 months
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look at him.
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rigil-kentauris · 13 days
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momodi calls enguerran to get things from shelves for her and she KNOWS that man can teleport easily too so hes NOT getting out of it.
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sylvies-chen · 26 days
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I’ve been seeing that couples paint each other challenge where couples will spend a night in with a canvas and some cheap paints and give each other 30 minutes to try and paint each other, and now I can’t stop thinking about armandaniel doing that one night and armand’s is yeah it’s good okay like it’s not great because of the whole vampire art struggles but he was around renaissance painters for a long time so he does a pretty good job of getting daniel’s minute features and shading and whatnot but daniel’s is just. lord it’s so bad. it’s like the most primal kindergarten painting you’ve ever seen but dammit all the right ingredients are there!! he got the orange eyes and the curls and he very proudly points out that he gave armand a little ipad in his painting like his fake rashid era which he cracks himself up with but he looks over and armand is in tears because not only is he looking at the first painting of himself in over 400 years but he’s also looking at the most non sexual artistic interpretation of him he’s ever seen. like it’s just. him. he’s just existing. he’s there. on the canvas. with literally no background. not a meadow or even a grassline or anything. all this blank white liminal space around his (horrendously drawn) likeness as if nothing else is needed. no body contortions, eyes too one dimensional to even hold all his pain. daniel is just kind of chuckling and bashfully being all “ah fuck it’s pretty bad isn’t it I mean there’s a reason I stick to words, I drew your nose all lopsided on that one side and—” cut to armand literally welling up and whispering like “no. it’s beautiful.” daniel doesn’t get it. this is a liberation.
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allstohel · 1 year
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-Be me.
-Pick a gorgeous dragon for top 5 above you game.
-Gush about said dragon.
-Hit submit.
-Immediately realise you have a dragon Just Like that one in your lair
-Next person immediately picks That Dragon to gush about
-Spend rest of the evening cringing because not only does it look like you copied the person you complimented, but they also told you they’ve checked out your lair in turn, and said dragon was on the first page
Someone help I’m having a crisis.
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rowarn · 3 months
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bizarre thought.....shadow entity!ghost..... @sgtgarricks is responsible for this!!!
i already want to write another part to this LMAOOOOOOO
part : two
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when you first moved into your new house, you knew it was old and had been vacant for a looooong time. it had a bizarre history of people living there and moving out months, even weeks later. most people declined offering a reason for their quick move but others would just vaguely supply that the 'energy was dark in that house', you weren't bothered.
it was a nice, big, house and for damn cheap too. you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
your first nights in the house, you understood what they meant. there was something off about the house for sure. at random times, you would feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if alerting you to danger. when you would turn around, there was nothing there. but it would leave you with sweaty palms and a racing heart.
it wasn't until a week into your new life that the first weird thing happened. it was like something from a stereotypical horror movie. you heard a strange sound and got out of bed to investigate. when you got to your kitchen, all the cabinets and drawers were open and your kitchen chairs were placed on top of your table -- which had also been moved across the kitchen.
you tried to take some deep breaths to calm yourself as you returned everything back to normal. you went over and over in your head for some kind of explanation for the event before finally landing on the fact that this house was fucking haunted.
strange events kept happening after that. lights would turn on, your kitchen cabinets would be open, sinks and showers would turn on, doors would slam from across the house. you were losing sleep over it. every single night you'd be woken up by some strange event and you were beginning to understand why the past tenants had moved out so fast.
this was a rotten way to live.
the final straw for you was the night the activity really seemed to ramp up. whatever spirit was haunting you wanted you out now. multiple doors slammed, jolting you from your sleep -- your heart racing from how hard you had been startled from your dreams. you got to your feet and turned on your lamp only to find it wasn't working.
next, you tried the overhead light. same thing.
fuck. it had caused the power to bust.
now you were really scared.
you grabbed your phone, using the flashlight to navigate your way out of the bedroom. the floorboards creaked beneath you, considerably louder without the hum of electricity.
you were halfway down the hall when you heard it. quiet at first, but definitely there. footsteps. mimicking your own, as if echoing after you took your own steps, making sure you knew it was there.
you spun around, shining the light upon nothing. you let out a heavy breath, noticing the way the flashlight shook from how hard you were trembling.
"a-alright, ghost," you called into the empty house, too scared to feel stupid that you were talking to nothing, "i-i'll admit i'm pretty scared right now. i-i know you probably want me out of your house. this is your house, i get it. bu-but i already sunk all my damn savings into moving in here s-so i can't leave!" you swallow, a loud gulping sound that would be funny if you weren't about to piss yourself, "s-so if we could just live together for a little while longer. i-i promise i'll get out the second i have the money!"
there was nothing but tense silence. you felt like an idiot the more seconds that passed. were you trying to make a deal with a fucking ghost? a spirit of someone who probably died in this house? what kind of shit had your life become?
you peered into the inky blackness of the hallway, blinking as you try to futilely see. it takes you a moment to realize you're not just staring into the darkness of your hallway. it's something else.
pure darkness. a dark entity taking form in the blackness of the night. you want to step back, primal fear coursing through you like you never felt before. whatever fear you were feeling was primordial in nature -- as if this entity was something you were born to fear.
the darkness began to swallow up the hallway, eating away at the light your flashlight had created. the air felt heavy and oppressive, making it difficult to take in oxygen.
you swear you could feel hands on you, grabbing you and pulling at you. the longer you stared into the darkness, the more you thought you could see things. eyes. hundreds of eyes. but when you blinked, the images vanished.
then, all at once, the entity was gone and your light was shining down the hallway again unimpeded. after another second, the sound of the electricity slamming back on filled the house and you collapsed to your knees.
whatever that was, it was dangerous. you knew that now.
but it didn't hurt you. perhaps it agreed to your terms and would leave you be now?
oh how wrong you were. sure, it wasn't nearly as scary as that night but now you saw it.
around every turn.
you could see the shadow take shape from the corner of your eye but when you looked, it would be gone. you would be brushing your teeth and when you looked in the mirror, it stood behind you, making your heart leap out of your chest. when you would turn, it wasn't there.
you were no longer woken up in the night, at least. but you weren't sure if you preferred the regular haunting stuff to seeing the ghost or not. you were on the fence about which was worse.
after another scare from the ghost, you jumped so hard that you almost fell over, "alright you -- ghost! will you quit scaring me like that!?" you found yourself shrieking.
to your abject horror, you heard laughter in return.
the shadow shit was fucking laughing at you. like it was enjoying this.
it wasn't evil laughter either. it sounded like pure enjoyment.
you suppose it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for a ghost to make sounds but it didn't make it any less horrifying.
you started talking to it more after that. once you heard its voice - sort of- it became easier. the fear also dissipated in time. sure it would jump scare you from time to time to get a laugh but other than that, it became like living with a really annoying roommate.
"will you get out of my mirror!" you snapped, mouth full of toothpaste with you facemask on. its disappearance was marked with its mirthful laughter.
you also noticed as the days and weeks passed, it stopped looking like a shapeless shadow and more like a person -- a big one at least. well over 7 feet tall. if you looked for long enough, you could almost make out what you think is a skull where the face would be on a human.
one night, you're laying in bed, comfortable. there's rain pelting outside on your window and distant thunder, too nice of weather to sleep away. so you just choose to relax and listen to it.
"ghost?" you find yourself calling into the darkness, "are you there?"
its silent but you feel the air grow heavy and you know that it's arrived. it seems to have...consciousness, you realized. it reacts to you and listens to you. there's one thing that's been plaguing you that you want to ask, though you're not sure if it will answer -- if it can answer.
"you're not really a ghost are you?" you ask.
you're greeted by silence for several, long seconds before you hear it. it's deep and masculine, a whisper of an echo following its voice when it speaks as if multiple things were speaking but only one voice was amplified, "no."
it's the answer you were expecting but that didn't mean you liked it. you swallow harshly around the lump of anxiety in your throat.
"are you going to hurt me?" you ask it, dreading the answer to this one. just because it's been toying with you doesn't mean it's not still dangerous.
"no," it responds again. you can hear footsteps, the entity walking closer and closer to your bed.
you let out a relieved breath at that. though, you're not sure if you should actually believe the dark entity that lives in your house. but at this point, you've really got no choice except to take it's word for it.
"what's your name?" you find yourself asking it.
"ghost," it responds quickly.
you laugh at that, "no, you're real name."
"ghost," it insist, "you gave me a name."
a lightbulb goes off over your head.
"is that why you're being so nice to me?" you ask, not sure if 'nice' is the appropriate word to use.
"i wanted a name," it answers, "you gave me one."
"a name in exchange for living in this house," you muse, deciding to roll over in bed, "alright then. goodnight, ghost."
"rest well," it responds before vanishing, freeing the room from that oppressive feeling.
you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep, briefly wondering where ghost even came from and what exactly it was.
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this is unedited i wrote it in a fury of inspiration i hope u enjoyed it regardless of how WEIRD this was LMFAOOOOOOOOOO
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months
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Meet Me Behind The Mall
Pairing: shy!Peter Parker x popular!Reader
Synopsis: after getting ditched by your friends, you spend a day with Peter in the mall, who’s secret you recently figured out
Masterlist
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In his peripheral vision, Peter could see a tiny piece of paper being pushed onto his side of the lab table. He curiously looked at it, then up at you. You nodded your head towards the note so Peter unfolded it.
“What’s the answer to number 7?” The note read. Peter glanced up at the professor before scribbling down the answer and passing the note back to you. You read his response and circled the correct answer. A few seconds passed when another note was passed across the table. Peter picked it up and opened it to reveal three hearts drawn around the words “thank u!”. Peter felt his face flush and looked over at you again. You gave him a thumbs up before going up to hand in your test.
After class, you caught up with Peter in the hallway and put your hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Thank you so much for helping me in there. I counted up all the answers I was confident I got right and it wasn’t enough to get a pass. I just don’t get this unit.”
“You’re welcome.” Was all Peter could say. He thought about offering to tutor you or telling you he also struggled with the topic, but he felt too shy to get anything more out than a cordial response.
“I bet you did really well. You always do. God, I wish I was as good at science as you are. It’s just never come naturally to me. How do you always know the answer?” You asked him as you continued to walk together.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged and immediately scrunched his face in embarrassment. He wished he could be better at conversing with you, especially since you were always so nice to him. He saw a pack of your friends coming down the hallway and they waved you over, putting your conversation out of it’s misery.
“Bye, Peter. I’ll see you next class. Have a good weekend.” You waved to him as you ran to catch up with your large group of friends. He knew he should return the sentiment but instead stayed silent and gave you a pathetic wave back.
That night, the cheap alcohol of the frat party didn’t sit well with you so you headed home early. You were a pretty far walk from your dorm but felt too nauseas to get into a car. Instead, you started walking home and let the cold New York air calm you down.
“Where are you going, gorgeous?”
You felt panic drop in your stomach at the sound of a man’s voice somewhere in the darkness but kept walking to your dorm. The sound of footsteps behind you picked up behind you so you quickened your pace. You could still hear music coming from the party you had left so you knew people were nearby if worst came to worst.
“Hey. I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”The man asked as he caught up to you and walked beside you. You ignored him and tugged your jacket tighter around your body. He suddenly took you by the elbow and you froze in fear.
“Come on. Don’t be rude. Just give me a smile and I’ll leave you alone.” The man said with a sickening smile as he tried to get you to look at him.
“Please. I’ll give you whatever you want from my bag. Just leave me alone.” You pleaded and moved away from him. He snatched your purse from your hands and started to rummage through it.
“What the hell is this? This is just full of receipts.” He grimaced in disgust and pulled out a handful of crumbled receipts.
“I don’t want to throw them out in case I need to return something one day.” You said meekly.
“Do you even have a wallet? All I’m finding is lip gloss.” The man said as he picked up five different lip products from the bottom of your bag.
“Oh, I’m sorry you didn’t find a better person to rob.” You scoffed sarcastically. The man looked up at you with a primal look in his eyes.
“Oh, you think you’re funny? I don’t like girls who think they’re funny.” He said and gripped your elbow again. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. Before you could tell him to let to, Spiderman dropped down next to you. You cracked a smile at the sight of him and let out a sigh of relief.
“Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but that purse does not to with that outfit.” Peter sassed and moved his hands in dramatic exasperation.
“Huh?” The guy said and let go of you.
“Now, you better not have left a bruise on this lovely lady’s elbows or you and I are gonna have a serious problem.” Peter warned as he shot a web at the guys pants. He yanked them down and the man’s jeans fell to his ankles.
“Hm. I did not peg you for a boxers guy. Your whole vibe screams “Fruit of the Loom” tighty whities. Yet now I stand corrected.” Peter said as he tilted his head to the side. You covered your mouth and let out a laugh, making the man grow angry. He went to lunge at Peter but tripped over his dropped pants.
“Uh oh. Someone’s angry. Maybe your whities are a little too tighty.” Peter commented as he pinched his fingers together. You laughed again as Peter shot a web at your purse.
“I’ll take that.” He quipped and yanked the purse out of the man’s hands.
“Thank you!” Peter said politely as he caught your purse.
“Hey!” The man shouted.
“Hey?” Peter laughed. “You’re yelling at me like it’s yours.”
The man tried to lunge at Peter again and ended up falling flat on his face. Peter took that as his cue to wrap an arm around you and pick you up to swing you to safety. He landed a few blocks away and carefully put you down. You stared at him through the mask as he put you down, your faces just inches apart. Peter gulped and felt his entire face go red beneath the mask.
“Thank you, Spiderman.” You smiled softly at him as you slowly withdrew your arm from around his neck.
“You’re very welcome, miss. I believe this belongs to you.” He said as he put your purse back into your hands. Your eyebrows knit together suddenly in confusion and you let out a short laugh.
“Wait, Peter?” You asked, making Peter’s heart drop.
“Uh, what?” He gulped. “Who’s that? I’m your friendly neighbor Spiderman.”
“Right. Sorry. You sound just like this guy in my chemistry class.” You laughed and shook your head. Peter felt his blush spread all the way to his ears over you recognizing the sound of his voice. You ran in different circles at school, you being apart of the popular group of girls and him belonging to a small group of local nerds. That being said, your ever present kindness towards him left him to develop a small crush on you.
“Oh. Well, that’s not me. But he sounds really handsome.” Peter replied, making you laugh again.
“He is.” You nodded without an ounce of sarcasm in your voice. This piked his curiosity and he leaned in a little.
“He is?” He asked.
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” You nodded. “In a hot nerd kind of way. Like Spencer Reid. But kinda short. Which I’m not sure why I’m telling you now that I hear myself.”
“It’s okay. I like that show too.” He chuckled shyly. “He sounds really cool.”
“He is really cool. At least, I think he is. But I’m not really sure. Everytime I try to talk to him, he looks away.” You sighed like you were disappointed. Peter realized you were a little drunk and probably didn’t know what you were saying. Even if that was the case, it was still nice to hear.
“Maybe he’s just shy. And doesn’t know how to look pretty girls in the eye.” Peter said as he kicked a rock around with his foot.
“That’s a shame.” You smiled sadly. “Because I think he and I could be friends if he ever learned to look at me.”
Peter stopped messing with the rock and looked up at you. There was a smallness to you tonight that shone through your party dress and heavy makeup. Your typically bright hand bubbly demeanor was cloudy by something you weren’t telling him.
“Maybe he’ll start.” He told you.
“I hope so.“ You answered honestly. “He seems nice. I could use a friend like him.”
Standing under that streetlight, Peter noticed a sadness to you for the first time. You were usually in a circle of friends all wearing smiles but right now, you seemed completely alone down to your bones.
“So how was your night?” He asked in a quiet voice. You stared off into the distance as your eyes brimmed with tears suddenly.
“Do you ever feel completely alone despite being in a room full of people you know?” You asked him.
“I do, actually. All the time.” He answered. You looked at him and smiled sadly.
“Do really, Spiderman?” You asked with hope in your voice. It wasn’t that you wanted him to feel alone. You just wanted to know you weren’t the only one who felt that way.
“I do. Is that how you felt tonight?”
“I don’t know. I guess. Sometimes I make jokes and my friends all look at each other. And they all make this face as if they’re thinking the same thing. And what they’re thinking is that I’m a freakish alien who they’re embarrassed to know. That’s how I felt tonight.”
“Well that’s no fun. And you’re not a freakish alien. You’re very funny.”
“And you know that because you’re the cute guy in my chemistry class?” You asked with a hopeful smile.
“I’m not him. I’m just guessing that you’re funny. So maybe you are an alien. I don’t know. This is our first time meeting.”
“Right.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you think you did on the last test? I actually feel pretty confident.”
“I don’t know because I didn’t take any test because I’m not the guy in your chemistry class. Now can I walk you home? It’s freezing out here and I have no jacket to offer you.”
“Sure, thanks. I’m this way.” You said and pointed in the direction of your dorm. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you towards your dorm.
“You should get a friend to walk with you next time you leave a party. It’s not safe to be out here by yourself. Especially with guys like that going around snatching purses.”
“I know. I asked my friends but they weren’t ready to leave yet.” You shrugged.
“And they let you walk home alone? Drunk? Sounds like you need some new friends.” Peter joked but you nodded in agreement.
“I know. But you know how friends can be. They still wanted to party. Why should I be their problem?” You shrugged again, making Peter frown.
“It’s not a problem to look out for you.” He said simply.
“That’s easy for you to say. You look out for everyone. It’s your job.” You reminded him.
“I’m not just saying that because of my job. It wouldn’t be a burden to take care of you no matter who I was.” Peter replied, making you stop walking. He looked at you and you looked that you had been waiting your whole life to hear what he had just said.
“Thank you.” You said with a fond smile.
“You’re very welcome.” Peter replied in an equally soft voice. You kept walking in comfortable silence until you reached the girls dorm.
“This is my dorm.” You told him. Thanks again for walking me home. And getting my purse back for me.”
“Anytime.”He nodded. “I just hope it doesn’t happen again. But if it did, you know.”
“You’d be here.” You finished his sentence.
“Exactly.” He smiled. “You can count on it.”
You couldn’t see the smile under his mask but you knew it was there. You held up your purse to show him that you had it before walking up a few of your dorm steps.
“See you at school?” You asked him.
“Don’t think so.” Peter chuckled. You squinted your eyes as if you didn’t believe him but eventually shrugged.
“That’s too bad. Good night.” You waved to him and walked the rest of the way up the stairs.
“Good night.” He called after you.
Once Monday came, you were determined to talk to Peter. You didn’t have chemistry that day so you’d have to find him elsewhere on campus. You knew he usually hung out in the library so you went there to check. Sure enough, he was at a table with his friends Ned and Miles.
“Hey, Peter.” You greeted as you walked up to him.
“H-hi.” He stammered. “What are you? I mean, how are you up? I mean, how are you? What’s up?”
“There we go.” Ned nodded. “I knew he’d get there eventually.”
“I’m good.” You replied. “How are you doing?”
“Ooo. Is this your girlfriend from chemistry class?” Miles asked as his raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“Is that what you told them?” You smiled in surprise as you looked at Peter.
“No. I didn’t. I swear.“ He assured you as his entire face went red.
“He did show us the note you gave him.” Ned told you.
“Oh yeah. Three hearts. I didn’t realize you guys were so serious.” Miles teased Peter as he gave his friends a look that begged them to stop.
“I never said she was my girlfriend.” Peter whispered harshly to them. You could tell he was getting embarrassed so you played along to save him. You frowned and ran your fingers through his hair before letting your hand rest on his cheek.
“What? You didn’t tell them about us, baby?” You asked and titled your head to the side. Miles and Ned’s made surprised faces as Peters entire face went red.
“W-what?” Peter sputtered out.
“I’m messing with you.” You smiled. “But I do need to talk to you.”
“Oh, uh, okay. Sure.” Peter said and moved his bag so you could sit down. You looked at Miles and Ned and smiled timidly.
“Privately.” You clarified. Miles and Ned “oooo”ed as you walked away from their table and went into the hall.
“Dude, follow her.” Ned told him and pushed Peter up from the table. Peter nervously fixed his hair and got up to follow you.
“What’s up?” He asked once you were alone. You looked around to see who was watching before stepping closer to him.
“I just wanted to thank for getting my purse back for me. It’s my favorite bag. And my favorite lip combo was in there. You really saved me.” You said and squeezed his arm in appreciation.
“Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Peter said waved his hand like it was no big deal. Your lips curved into a wicked smile and Peter realized his mistake.
“Shit.” He whispered as you jumped up and down and clapped your hands.
“I knew it!” You whispered. “I knew that was your voice!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quickly.
“Yes you do.” You grinned and poked him in the chest.
“I really don’t.” He shrugged but he knew he was caught.
“Then why are you so flustered right now?” You folded your arms to ask him. Peter touched his burning cheek and debated telling you his face always did that around you.
“I’m not.” He lied.
“Your face is hot.” You pointed out as you touched a cold hand to his cheek.
“Psht. Your face is hot.” He scoffed and pushed your hand away.
“Thank you.” You said pointedly. “But you and I both know that I figured out your little secret. There’s no point in denying it now.”
“I don’t have any secrets. So you don’t know anything.”
“Come on, Peter.” You whined. “I’ve been waiting all weekend to tell you that I know. I wanted to text you but I don’t have your number and I couldn’t find you on Instagram. You have one, don’t you?”
“I’m not on social media.” He told you.
“Okay. That’s serial killer behavior but I’m willing to look past it if you confirm my suspicions.” You said and excitedly drummed your fingers on your chin.
“I’m not Spiderman. So I cannot confirm your suspicions.” He whispered for only you to hear. You smirked a little before shrugging.
“I guess you can’t.” You sighed. “It’s weird though, right?”
“What’s weird?” He wondered.
“That I never said you were Spiderman. I just thanked you for getting my purse.” You said with a coy smile. Peter hung his head in shame as he confirmed to you for the second time that he was in fact Spiderman.
“I knew it! I knew it was you. I even recognized the way you walk.” You said proudly.
“What do you know about the way I walk?” He asked with a shy smile.
“You walk really stiff like you’re holding two invisible briefcases.” You explained and demonstrated for him with a near perfect imitation of how he walked.
“What? No I don’t. Oh wait. Yeah, I kinda do.” He realized as he watched you.
“You definitely do. Now can you please just tell me I’m right? I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. I need to hear you tell me I was right.” You begged him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Peter playfully rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and sighed.
“You right.” He mumbled.
“Yes! I knew I was right!” You cheered. “Everything makes sense now. That’s why you’re always disappearing or yawning or bruised. You’re probably up every night getting girls purses, aren’t you?”
“Not always purses.” He instead. “Sometimes it’s bikes. And one time, a mean chihuahua.”
“Wow.” You said with genuine amazement. “So how long have you been doing this?”
“Since I was 15.”
“15? Damn. I was exhausted from working 4 hours a week at Kohl’s at 15. How do you do it? You must be so tired.” You frowned and rubbed his arm kindly.
“It’s tiring but someone has to do it.” He shrugged. “Just like someone has to hand out Kohl’s cash.”
“Thats true.” You chuckled. “And that’s a very selfless way to look at it.”
“Oh. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “But please, you can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody else knows.”
“Duh.” You replied. “This is our secret.”
“Yeah. Ours.” He smiled and felt his face heat up at the mention of something belonging to only the two of you. Your moment was cut short by one of your friends coming up to you and completely disregarding Peter.
“Hey, girl. I need your notes from class today.” She said to you.
“Oh, sure. How come you weren’t there?” You asked her.
“Liz and I went got coffee instead.” She replied. Peter could tell you were hurt they didn’t ask you to come get coffee but you just smiled and nodded.
“I’ll text them to you.” You told her.
“Thanks. Let’s go to the library. I need you to look at my English paper and tell me if it’s good.” She said and nodded towards the library. You looked at Peter and gave him an apologetic smile.
“Bye, Peter. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You told him before leaving with your friend.
“Why were you talking to that lesbian?” Your friend asked you as you walked away.
“That wasn’t a lesbian. That was my friend Peter.” He heard you tell her before going into the library. He watched you disappear and let out a little sigh. He knew he was going to over analyze that entire conversation for probably the rest of his life, or at least until the next time you spoke.
That weekend, Peter headed to the mall a few blocks from campus to do some wandering by himself since Ned was busying. He did a little shopping before taking a seat on the mall fountain to check his texts. He was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you walk up to him.
“Well, well, well.” You chuckled, making him look up at you and blush.
“It’s a fountain, actually.” Peter deadpanned, making you crack a smile.
“You’re stupid. Move over.” You laughed and sat beside him. Your knees were touching which made Peters face warm up the way it always seemed to around you.
“Should I be worried? I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.” He teased you.
“Excuse me? I was just walking around and saw you. You’re the one who keeps ending up placed I’m already in.”
“Sounds like something a stalker would say.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.
“You wish I was your stalker. Now come on, give me the haul. What did you buy?” You asked him and nodded towards his bag.
“Socks and boxers.” He smiled proudly and held up his items.
“Oh shit. You did not come to play.”
“I really didn’t.” He played along, making you laugh again. You stared at him for a minute with a fond smile and he stared back with a matching one.
“What?” He wondered.
“You’re talking to me.”
“So?” He laughed shyly. “You’re talking to me.”
“No, I mean, like. Full eye contact. And full sentences. Who is this man? I’ve been waiting to meet him forever.” You teased him and he playfully rolled his eyes.
“I guess it’s easier to talk to you now that you know my secret. You’re not as scary anymore.”
“I was scary before?” You gasped and pretended to be offended.
“Yes. Girls like you are very terrifying to me.”
“Girls like me?” You smiled coyly.
“Pretty girls who are nice to me. I really wish you were a giant snake or the multi-bear from Gravity Falls or something. That’s way less scary.” He insisted.
“You’d rather talk to the multi-bear than me?”You scoffed. “I have half a mind to forget about you and go stalk some other guy.”
“No, please. Stay. I forgot how awkward it is to shop alone and I still need to get a belt.” He pretended to beg and put a hand on your leg to get you to stay. You looked at the hand on your leg and cracked a smile at the unexpected contact from him.
“Well I would never abandon a man on a belt quest.” You replied, making him laugh.
“Thank you. What about you? What are you looking for?”
He could have said “shopping for” but that’s not what he meant. He wanted to know what you were looking for. You cracked a smile as if you understood what he was asking.
“Better friends, actually. Have you seen any?” You asked with a playful but sad smile.
“I just saw your friends in H&M.” He told you and pointed to the store. You shrugged a little and shook your head.
“Yeah. I saw them too. After they all told me they were busy today and couldn’t hang out.” You admitted without looking at him. Peter frowned and moved closer to you.
“They came here without you?”
“I asked them to hang out. They all said they couldn’t. But now I’m getting a sneaking suspicion there’s a second group chat that I’m not in.” You laughed but he knew it was fake.
“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.
“I came here to cheer myself up and ended up feeling 200 times worse when I saw them all hanging out without me. I didn’t even say anything to them because I didn’t want them to feel bad for not inviting me. Not that they ever care when they make me feel bad.” You laughed again but it ended up in a sigh. You stared at your shoes for a second and Peter stayed silent.
“Girls suck.” You said after a beat. “Not always, of course, but when they suck, they really suck. They know how painful it can be to be the only one left out. But they still did it to me. I don’t understand why.”
“Neither do I. I thought those girls were your friends?”
“I don’t know. I kinda saw this coming.” You admitted. “I started to notice that I was always the one texting first. And always the one trying to make plans. And when they did text me, they were asking me for something. It was never just to check in on me.”
“That’s really hurtful. I’m sorry. I’ve been there too. It sucks when you realize that if you stopped reaching out to someone, you’d probably never speak again.” Peter replied, making you smile sadly at him.
“Exactly. Or when you wonder how long it would take them to notice if you stopped reaching out. And worse, wonder if they’d notice at all.”
“No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not someone as kind and considerate as you. You really do need new friends.” He nodded in agreement, making you genuinely laugh this time.
“We’re friends, right? Because I know your secret.”
“We can be friends.” Peter nodded, bringing a smile out of you.
“Thanks.” You told him and gave his shoulder a rub. Peter felt a sudden burst of confidence and decided to keep the momentum he had built.
“You’re probably gonna say no to this, but Ned and I were gonna get sandwiches and then build legos together tomorrow. You can come, if you’d like.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to give me a pity invite to your sandwich and Lego party.” You told him.
“It’s not a pity invite. I want you to be there. It would make me happy to have you around.” Peter answered, making you smile once again. It was the simple change from “you can come” to “I wanted you to be there” that made all the difference.
“Do you want to hang out with me today?” You asked him.
“Yeah. I do.” He said immediately. You stood up and held out your hand for him to take.
“Come on. Let’s go look at the home decor.”
Peter took your hand and let you pull him towards the home decor store in the mall. He awkwardly ran ahead of you so that he could open the door for you but it was worth it when he saw you smiling.
“Thank you.” You said curtly and walked inside. He followed you around the store like a puppy dog and listened to your commentary on the various throw pillows and wall art as if it was words from a prophet.
“This would be perfect for you.” You gasped and held up an old Halloween pillow that had a sequenced spiderweb on it along with a spider made up of mostly fallen off beads.
“Is my job a joke to you?” He laughed and flicked the pillow.
“I mean, I did see some funny videos of you online. How often do you miss your webs and fall into bushes?”
“Bushes are rare, actually. It’s usually car hoods and hot dog stands.” He admitted.
“Ouch.” You grimaced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“No. Hot dog stands are really soft.” He said seriously. You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store.
“I love that I’m the only one that knows this about you.” You told him.
“You really do, don’t you?” He realized with an amused smile.
“Well, yeah. I always knew there was something about you and learning this vindicated me so hard.”
“Something about me? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You’re so allusive.” You shrugged. “Always disappearing and reappearing from places. Not on any sports teams but will never miss when throwing something into the trash from across the room. Knows all the answers in chemistry but never raises his hand. Ripped but hides it under Catholic school boy sweaters. I always wondered about you. Now I know.”
“Wow. You pick up on a lot of details. Nobody’s ever really noticed me like that.” Peter said as he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how flustered that made him.
“That you know of.” You corrected. “Because I noticed you a long time ago and you had no idea until now.”
“I notice you too.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the eye contact and stayed looking at him.
“So, uh, were you just messing with me when you told Spiderman that you thought I was, you know.”
“A hot nerd?”
“Yeah. That.” He laughed shyly.
“I wasn’t messing with you.” You shrugged. “Or him. Either of you. I meant what I said.”
“So did I. I really don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”
“We’re just regular people. Aside from our razor sharp teeth and detachable feet.”
“Why would you need to detach your feet?” He laughed.
“I don’t know but I used to have these dolls when I was younger where you’d yank their whole foot off to change their shoes. And they’d just have a little nub until you put new feet on them. God forbid you lose one of their shoes. Then they have no feet and had to walk around my dollhouse with nubs”.
“To be a woman is to perform.” He nodded along.
“Shut up.” You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store. You ended up buy some statue of an animal that you mentioned your mom liked to collect and Peter carried your bag for you into the next store.
“So who else knows about this secret? Besides us two.” You asked as you flipped through a clothing rack.
“My best friend. But that’s because he accidentally walked in on me in my suit. And my aunt. Who found out in the exact same way.”
“Sounds like you need to invest in a giant trench coat to cover yourself with when entering and exiting your room.” You told him.
“That’s a really good idea, actually. Do you think they sell those here?” He asked, making you laugh.
“So I was the first to figure it out?”
“You were. And now I’m really hoping it’s not obvious.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s obvious. I’m just very observant.”
“Of everything or just me?” He asked you.
“Just you.” You teased, making him blush again.
“What else have you observed about me?” He wondered.
“A few things, actually. You keep flexing your hand and I’m starting to think you’re working up the nerve to hold mine. That or you’re fighting the urge to punch me so I’m hoping it’s the former. I also observed that you haven’t checked your phone once since I found you and you’re letting me pick all the stores we go into.”
“Wow. And what do your observations tell you?”
“That you like me.” You said simply and continued looking at the clothes.
“What?” Peter sputtered. “No I don’t.”
“Says the boy who got my purse back from a burglar. Classic crush culture right there.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head.
“What?” He laughed. “That is not what I do when I have a crush on a girl. That’s just my job.”
“All right then. So what do you do when you have a crush?”
“Avoid eye contact and hope she likes shy tendencies. And open doors for her, obviously.” Peter said as he opened the door for you into the next store.
“Good to know.” You said and gave him a pleased smile as you passed him. He continued to follow you down the aisles of the store while holding your collection of clothes you wanted to try on.
“So why spiders? I’ve always wondered why you named yourself after arguably the worst bug of all time. Why not something more palatable like Lady Bug Man? Or Moth Man and then you could live under a bridge and spook people?” You asked as you handed him another dress for you to try on.
“It was a spider bite that gave me the abilities, actually. That’s where I got the name.” He explained as you disappeared behind a changing room curtain. You opened it up after a few seconds in one of the dresses you had taken off the rack.
“Really? I never would’ve guessed that. I’m learning so much right now.” You said as you turned around and moved your hair away from your neck. Peter blushed and picked up what you were implying and zipped the dress for you. You turned back around and gave him a grateful smile.
“What else do you want to know?” He asked with a shy smile. He usually categorized himself as shy and never wanting to be the center of attention, but right now he was hoping you had more questions to ask him. He liked being the center of attention when it was your attention he was getting.
“Why red and blue?” You wondered.
“Red for my mom’s red hair and blue for the car my dad drove.” Peter said out loud for the first time.
“Aw, Peter.” You pouted. “That’s really beautiful. I love that.”
“Thank you. I never told anybody that before.” He admitted.
“Hm. Something else just between us, then.” You winked at him before shutting the dressing room curtain again.
When you left that store, Peter opened the door for you on the way out with his free hand and held your bags with his other hand. As you walked through the mall, yours hands kept bumping against each others. It happened so many times in a row that Peter was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.
“You can, you know. If you want to.” You said without looking at him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter lied as your hands bumped once again.
“Okay. Never mind, then.” You replied and kept walking. Peter decided to do something for once and took your hand. You didn’t say anything but smirked and gave his hand a squeeze. You stayed holding hands as you went to a few more stores and ended up back by the fountain. Through the streams of water, you suddenly spotted the very group of friends that had left you out.
“Oh God. It’s them.” You gasped and stopped short. Peter thought you were going to drop his hand but you didn’t.
“What are you gonna do?” He asked. “I can stick to the wall if that at all helps.”
“Well I’m definitely gonna need to see that at some point but not right now. I need to hide.” You decided and looked around for the nearest exit. During your search, you heard the sound of your friends laughing and it made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to run away anymore and pretend that the things they did didn’t hurt you. They did. And it was time they knew that.
“Actually, no.” You decided. “Why should I hide to make them more comfortable? They did something mean to me. I shouldn’t run away just so they don’t have to face what they did. I should go talk to them.”
“Let’s do it.” Peter agreed and you smiled. You blew out a nervous breath before walking up to the group of girls.
“Hey guys! So glad your schedules freed up.” You greeted them with a friendly smile. They all froze and either looked down at the ground or at you with stunned expressions. You took your time looking at every one of their guilty faces with an unamused expression.
“We were gonna text you.” Liz said quickly.
“Don’t even worry about it.” You told her. “In fact, don’t text me ever again. I deserve friends who include me. Not people who keep me around just in case they need something from me.”
“So what? You’re gonna ditch us to hang out with losers?” Liz scoffed and looked at Peter. You felt bad that Peter had caught a stray but he wasn’t phased.
“You’re the ones who just lost a good friend. And missed out on a fun day at the mall with the coolest girl in New York. So I’m pretty sure that makes you guys the losers.” Peter stated. Everyone, including you, was shocked to hear those words out of the notoriously shy Peter’s mouth. You looked at him and gave him a grateful smile.
“Yeah.” You agreed. “You guys are losers. You all say bad things about each other behind each other’s back and I’m sure you did the same to me so I can’t say I’m gonna miss this friend group. But I do have to thank you for ditching me or else I wouldn’t have found a real friend.”
“Who? This lesbian?” One of the other girls scoffed and gestured to Peter.
“Yeah.” Peter snapped. “This lesbian.“
“Now if you’ll excuse us, Peter needs to find a belt.” You said and walked away with Peter following right behind you. You didn’t drop his hand as you did a half walk half run through the mall as adrenaline rushed through you. Once you were far enough away from them, you stopped running.
“That felt good.” You said through an out of breath laugh.
“For me too.” Peter agreed. “And I was almost entirely uninvolved in that situation.”
“Come on. I wanna do the Photo Booth and immortalize this day.” You said and excitedly pulled him into the Photo Booth. Peter shut the curtain while you picked the boarder for the pictures, purposefully choosing one that had red hearts all over it.
“Okay. We only have five seconds between pictures so you have to pick your poses quickly.” You told him as the countdown began.
“But I’m so awkward. I don’t know how to pose.” Peter said as the countdown dwindled down.
“Just smile and look like you like me.” You said and pressed your cheek against his to smile for the camera. The camera flashed and you slung your arm around him for the next photo. The camera flashed again and Peter gulped.
“I do like you.” He said in a soft voice as he turned to look at you.
You looked at him and leaned in just as the camera flashed. You were still kissing when the fourth and final flash went off but you didn’t care. You pulled Peter closer by his shirt while his hands snaked around your waist. You pushed him away suddenly with a suspicious look on your face.
“Wait, do the webs, like, come out of your butt ever?”
“What? No.” He laughed. “They don’t come out of me at all. I built devices and developed a web fluid to shoot out of them. I don’t actually produce webs.”
“Oh. Okay.” You nodded and pulled him back into a kiss. He kissed you back for a moment before pulling away.
“Wait, would that have been a deal breaker if I did? Produce webs, I mean.” He asked you.
“I mean, I’d still like you but I don’t know if I could date a guy who could physically produce webs in his body. I just think that would really gross me out. Producing webs is I think where I’d have to draw the line.”
“So does that mean you’d date a guy who doesn’t produce webs?” He asked with a hopeful smile.
“Isn’t that every guy?” You pointed out.
“Oh. Yeah. I guess it kinda is.” He realized. “Well, would you date a guy who is far more likely to shoot webs from his butt than the average man? Given his spider themed career path?”
“Well, I don’t know. I never thought about that before.” You pursed your lips and pretended to give it genuine though. Peter playfully rolled his eyes at you and cupped your face to kiss you again.
“What do you think now?” He asked with your face still in his hands.
“I think I would.” You smiled and tugged his shirt to bring him back into a kiss.
Tag List
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
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@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
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@pandaxnienke
 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
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@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
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@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
2K notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 6 months
Text
1.8k of what was supposed to be a drabble, oops. same au as this just different situation.
there he is.
the titan the crowd calls Ghost. a creature who seemed to have crawled out of the abyss itself, rage etched into the very marrow of his bones. scars crisscross his arms, chest, and back— souvenirs of battles both won and lost. no one knows much about him. no real name, no past, no future. blank.
a void.
just like his sunken eyes, the only thing anyone can see from behind the midnight black skull balaclava that clings to his face like a second skin. (does he even remember what he looks like underneath?) he stands in front of the club's owner in ragged clothing: a tattered wifebeater that's been stitched, torn, and re-stitched. his pants have strained seams and patched knees. his boots are high cut, made of worn, scuffed leather with laces in the front, pulled tight. functional.
he's terrifying. most here come to fight for glory, for redemption, for escape. not he, though. reverent whispers claim this is all he knows. that he fights like a cornered, wounded beast, with no discipline nor strategy. just primal hunger and unmatched ferocity.
and that's who your idiotic, egotistical boyfriend wants to fight. granted, he's a pretty damn good boxer. not that you'd know much about that, you're simply parroting what you've heard his coach say. but this isn't boxing. no one here wears a padded helmet, with comfortable gloves and silky shorts. the fellow with the mohawk currently fighting isn't even wearing a mouthguard, for fuck's sake.
there are no fucking rules, no referees, no honor, no mercy.
your shoulders rise up to your ears as you tense at a nasty blow the pretty one you've come to learn is named gaz gives mr. mohawk. it splits his lip instantaneously, crimson dribbling down his chin and onto his barrel chest. he should be in pain, but there's only a glint of madness in those bright blue eyes of his. the crazed smile he gives gaz is all blood-stained teeth.
your boyfriend taps you on your shoulder, making you jump. "i'm gonna go talk to mr. price now that he's no longer busy."
what?
"no! you can't be serious!" the metal chair you were seated on screeches as you shoot up and run after him, feet slipping on the mud-slicked floor. "hey! wait!"
he reaches the tall, burly man(broker?) with the antiquated mutton-chop beard before you do. the tailored suit clings to his large frame, molding to his mountainous shoulders and tapered waist. his polished shoes are pristine, unlike the surface he's standing on that's littered with wager slips and sodden with cheap beer.
"don't. be smart, fight smart. you can't possibly— did you see the way the one with the mohawk took a hit to the face without flinching? he's insane! they all are!" you flick your eyes to mr. price. "no offense."
he chuckles low. "none taken, sweetheart. soap's a vigorous man, is all."
soap. gaz. ghost. they've all got bloody fighting nicknames. meanwhile, the only thing your boyfriend's ever been called is dearie by his elderly neighbor.
"your pretty girl's right. i'd steer clear of the pit. this ain't no place for a sheltered bloke such as yourself." his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, yet it felt like a facade. the evenness of his tone had dread crawling up your spine.
"boss." you squeak at the deep voice that comes from beside you— accent thick on his tongue.
mr. price waves a hand dismissively, the rings that adorn his fingers glinting under the dim light of the overhead lamps. "it's nothin' but a couple a'folk placin' their bets."
the look of unfettered stupidity flashes on your boyfriend's face as he turns his head and realizes just who mr. price was talking to. "if it isn't the masked specter himself."
stupid. stupid stupid stupid. god, your boyfriend came in one piece but he's going to leave in bloody pieces if you don't stop him. "stop," you hiss. "this ridiculous stint of yours is over." as is this sorry excuse of a relationship. he'd been a sweet guy at some point, or maybe you were just blinded by his good looks. "sorry for the bother, mr. price. we'll be taking our leave." tugging on your boyfriend's sleeve, you try to lead him away but he stays anchored in place, posturing like a peacock; chest out, shoulders squared and head held high.
he looks at ghost as he challenges him. "name your price. anything, i can meet."
how he can be so blasé in the presence of this bastion is beyond you. ghost stands tall, his shadow engulfing you whole. you can feel the weight of his presence, a crushing force pressing against your sternum. he doesn't speak; and honestly, he doesn't have to. ghost's silence spoke volumes.
"he's not interested, see? let's just go before we're thrown out on our arses."
but your boyfriend doesn't concede. if anything, it only adds fuel to the fire. "not good enough for you? eh? is that it? think yourself untouchable just because you're king of the underbelly?" he goads.
your cheeks are hot, scalding with embarrassment. he's starting to garner attention from the audience that's supposed to be watching the current fight.
and then ghost breaks said silence. "i don't want your money." his rich voice reverberates through bone and marrow; it rattles your very core. "you didn't work hard for it, i can tell. golden spoon runt."
your boyfriend's eyes ignite with anger. for a moment, you thought he was going to swing on the spot, but then, like a wisp of smoke, it dissipated. his fists unclench, his jaw relaxes. "what do you want, then?" he questions.
ghost tips his head your way as he keeps his gaze on your boyfriend. "her. i win, she's mine."
you should've known your now ex would agree. nothing would keep him from accomplishing his goals of 'putting the big dog down' as he so eloquently put it. now you're firmly sat right next to price on the stands (because you will not be calling him john anytime soon, no matter how many times he corrects you) essentially as his hostage.
"nothing personal, sweetheart. i'm a businessman, after all, and the prize walkin' out the front door would be bad for business. hope you understand."
no, you don't. so you tell him as such.
"tha's alright. simon'll take good care of ya, i promise."
"is there any particular reason you're so cocksure of your simon winning?" you manage to ask, your voice fragile.
he takes a thick inhale of his cigar before answering. "unfortunately for you, i've seen it all— the broken bones, shattered dreams, and—" you watch tendrils of smoke unfurl from his mouth, "adversaries who never walked back out."
spectators have already begun to huddle around the cage, puffing on cheap cigarettes. they all look desperate, eyes gleaming with greed. this time the one collecting wagers is a blonde woman, older in age, with her hair in a low bun and a puffer vest. "that your wife?"
he curls a large hand around my shoulder before twisting to look at— "laswell? no. don't swing tha' way." price gives you a gentle squeeze.
oh. you can feel warmth creeping up your neck. "sorry. didn't mean to- er. i didn't know."
"'s'alrigh'. her wife's nice enough. you'll like 'er.'' her wife? the confusion must've shown because he rumbles out a laugh. "no. it'd be me barkin' up the wrong tree. i—" he tightens the grip on your shoulder, "like whatever's pretty to look at." his words from before resounded in your head.
'your pretty girl's right...'
the heat that'd receded now stung the tips of your ears. whatever words you want to say are lodged in your throat but thankfully, you're saved by the bell. literally.
the rusty thing tolls and the crowd hushes their voices and stills their restless shuffling. first walks in your ex (idiot), looking exactly like what ghost had called him earlier— a golden spoon child. his shorts are glossy, even under the flickering, sickly light that falls over the cage. his boxing gloves are a vibrant red, pristine as if right out of the box. (you don't remember soap getting his pretty face broken by hands with gloves, but whatever.) he looks perfect, like something out of a hollywood movie.
and so out of place.
unlike ghost who's just stepped into the ring— who commands the attention of all within the hazy room. he fits right in with the rats who scurry around in the bowels of the city. he moves like the shadows that cling to the dark corners, his steps silent as whispers. a haunted being— one the world above with its neon signs and bustling crowds has long forgotten— has made his home down here.
ghost bumps his mma gloves with your ex's boxing ones, in a show of surprising sportsmanship.
the bell tolls once again, and the fight begins.
and just as quickly as it began, it ended. you blink, momentarily displaced, because there is no way what just happened is real. there hadn't been no real fight. it'd been one devastating blow to the side of your ex's jaw that ended everything. he hadn't stood a chance. it—
"'s done. sorry, love. but simon's headin' this way to claim his prize." price gives you a sympathetic pat to your back. "i swear it on my life he won't harm a hair on your head."
what?
ghost barrels through the roaring crowd and comes to a stop before you. "you're with me, now. best get used to it." shock blurs your vision, or maybe it's the fact that you've been hoisted up and thrown over a shoulder that did it.
it doesn't matter. the one you came here with is currently lying limp on the stained mat, his mouth hanging open a little awkwardly. is he broken? you're put down on a bench in a large dressing room that has only one tall locker in it with a tiny ghost sticker on the front.
"did you... is he dead?" you ask, pulse quickening.
"no. either dislocated or broke tha' jaw of 'is only."
you sputter when metal clinks on the surface of the wooden table he's currently leaning his weight against. dusters? "you used fucking dusters?"
he turns his head and looks at you, piercing and intense. "you and i both know i didn't need anythin' to knock his teeth down his throat, isn't tha' right, pet? eh?"
his knuckles are calloused and heavily scarred, the little finger bent at an angle even when straight. "don't worry 'bout him, you're with me, now." he shrugs on a plain, black jacket and heads for the door. "try to leave and i'll jus' find you again. don't make this any harder than it has to be."
welcome to the rat king's domain, sweetheart.
2K notes · View notes
sky-is-the-limit · 7 months
Note
I dunno about you but drunk sex slays and the thought of it with one out of the big red dead four (John Arthur Charles or Javier) just makes me 🌊💦💧
Thank you anon for this:))))))))))
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WC: 5,117 words.
P: Arthur,John,Javier and Charles x F!Reader
CW: public sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, cowgirl
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𝘈𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘳:
You sat by the crackling campfire, the night draped around you like a comforting blanket, waiting patiently for Arthur to return from his outing with Lenny.
As the minutes stretched into hours, the quiet of the night was suddenly shattered by the sound of husky laughter and stumbling footsteps approaching the camp.
Arthur stumbled into view, his usually composed demeanor replaced by a boisterous energy, his laughter ringing out into the night. You watched as he stumbled towards you, his movements unsteady and his words slurred with intoxication.
"Hey there, sweetheart!" He exclaimed, his voice louder than usual, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he approached you, his arms outstretched in an exaggerated gesture of affection.
"Arthur.." You greeted him with a chuckle, reaching out to steady him as he stumbled forward. "You're drunk."
He grinned at you, his usual charm amplified by the alcohol coursing through his veins. "Just a bit," He admitted with a laugh, his words slurring together slightly. "But I missed you, darlin'."
As Arthur held you in his drunken embrace, he leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear and he whispered, "Come with me, I want to show you something."
Curiosity piqued, you allowed him to lead you away from the camp, the darkness of the trees enveloping you like a cloak. With each step, his intoxicating scent of whiskey and cheap cologne hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest.
Finally, he stopped, the trees providing enough secrecy around you. Before you could protest or question his intentions, Arthur pressed you against a sturdy tree trunk, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss.
His embrace was fervent and urgent, fueled by the fire of his drunken desire. His hands roamed eagerly over your body, his touch electric against your skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your lips.
///
And that was how you found yourself, dangerously close to getting caught by the rest of the gang, pressed firmly against the rough bark of a tree, stripped naked to his mercy.
The stretch was breathtaking, every centimeter of his length sending electrifying waves of pleasure through you as he pounded away relentlessly. With each rapid thrust, Arthur grunted huskily, his teeth clenched together in sheer determination. His eyes remained fixated on your bouncing form, his gaze intense and unwavering.
"Arthur-" You gasped, your breath coming in ragged bursts, heat flooding your body.
In that moment, every sensation overwhelmed you, yet you yearned for more. There was nothing in this world, in that moment, more important than Arthur Morgan, thrusting into you with an intensity that felt like a primal need with your leg wrapped around his defined torso and his large palms roaming the curves of your body.
''Beautiful-'' He whispered between pants, his voice a husky echo against your skin as he leaned in, his lips tantalizingly close to your quivering flesh.
''You are mine.'' With a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine, he enveloped one hardened nipple in his mouth, drawing it between his lips with a hunger that left you trembling. His tongue danced with an almost predatory insistence, claiming you entirely in a way that left you powerless to resist.
With each of his forceful thrusts, you reciprocated with equal intensity, your nails digging into his forearms with a ferocity that threatened to break skin, and your teeth grazing against his lips as you captured his mouth in a hungry kiss when he turned his face towards you.
''Please- Arthur, please!'' You knew you were babbling, but the overwhelming sensation coursing through your veins left you unable to form coherent words.
''Quiet, sweetheart. You don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?'' Arthur's voice was low, sending shivers down your spine as you struggled to maintain composure amidst the overwhelming waves of lust. His words ignited a fire within you, the intensity of his gaze leaving you feeling dizzy with desire.
Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, your breath coming in short gasps as you tried to focus on just breathing. With each movement of his hips, Arthur's rhythm intensified, the sensation bordering on maddening as he drove himself deeper into you.
''Can you be quiet for me?'' He whispered, his hand moving from your mouth to rest gently on your lower back. You nodded in response, your teeth sinking into your lip as you fought to stifle the moans threatening to escape your lips.
Your body started to shake uncontrollably, tremors coursing through every fiber of your being. With each passing moment, the sensation intensified, rendering your legs numb and leaving every muscle sore and cramped. Even the slightest movement sent waves of soreness rippling through you, threatening to overwhelm your senses.
Despite the haze of alcohol, he remained attentive to your every move, his hands a steady anchor that kept you upright. With a firm grip, he ensured you didn't falter or lose balance, his eyes never wavering from your features as he sought to understand your every emotion.
Hot tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of pleasure and intense emotion that threatened to spill over with each hard motion of his body. Arthur was so deep, so incredibly deep inside of you that it felt as though he was reaching places untouched, bringing pleasure straight to your soul.
Your muscles twitched and spasmed in time with his relentless thrusts, the rhythm of your bodies syncing perfectly as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Each moan that escaped your lips was met with the wet fabric of his shirt, the sound muffled but unmistakable in the heat of the moment.
"Good girl," Arthur murmured, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, a rare smirk gracing his lips, a sight reserved only for moments like these, fueled by the intoxicating effects of alcohol. ''Good fucking girl.'
The pressure building inside of you reached its breaking point, shattering your senses. In that moment, you clung to Arthur desperately, pulling at his hair and digging your nails into his skin as if he were your lifeline.
Open-mouthed cries of pleasure escaped your throat, the intensity of your orgasm too powerful to be contained. Arthur cursed under his breath, his focus solely on maintaining his movements long enough to ride out the wave of your climax.
He could feel you gushing wetness, squirting on his cock and leaking down both of your thighs. He wasn’t strong enough to resist the pleasure that came with the realization that he’d made you spasm so hard your body couldn’t control itself. He followed, pumping his cum deep inside of you while your folds squeezed the life out of him.
Time seemed to stand still as you clung to each other, reluctant to let go of the moment. When Arthur finally pulled away slightly, you whimpered, clinging to him tighter, craving the comfort and reassurance that only he could provide.
''I know, sweetheart. I know." Arthur's voice was soft and comforting as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He could sense the weight of your emotions, knowing that you must be feeling overwhelmed in that moment.
"You did so good.'' He murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in soothing circles.
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𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯:
As you slipped out of your dress, the fabric cascading around your ankles, you felt the weight of the day lifting from your shoulders. The dim light of the lantern cast shadows across the canvas walls of your tent, creating a cozy sanctuary amidst the chaos of the gang outside, singing songs around the fire.
With each button undone, you reveled in the sensation of freedom, relishing the cool air against your skin as you prepared to settle for bed. The soft rustle of fabric echoed in the silence as you reached for your nightgown, a familiar routine that brought a sense of comfort to the end of another long day.
But just as you were about to slip into the warmth of your nightclothes, the tent flap suddenly stirred, and there he was, John. His usually rugged features were contorted with jealousy, his eyes clouded with the haze of alcohol as he stumbled into the tent.
"John?" You exclaimed, surprise and frustration warring within you as you struggled to comprehend his state. "What are you doing here?"
He ignored your question, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of desire and accusation. "You've been spending too much time with Javier!" He slurred, his words heavy with bitterness as he collapsed onto the ground beside you, his drunkenness palpable.
You sighed, feeling a pang of sympathy for him even as irritation prickled at the edges of your patience. "John, I told you. Javier is teaching me how to play guitar. There's nothing between us."
But he wasn't listening, lost in his own insecurities and doubts. With a pout that bordered on childish, he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your skin in a clumsy attempt at affection.
"I wanna teach you something, too.." He murmured, his voice low and husky, his lips trailing along the curve of your neck as he spoke.
You shivered at the sensation, the heat of his touch sending a thrill racing down your spine. Despite the lingering frustration of his outburst of jealousy, you found yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his gaze, drawn to him with an intensity that left you breathless.
"What do you want to teach me?" You whispered, your voice barely more than a soft sigh as you surrendered to the hunger that burned within you.
///
You couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Javier. His presence close to you eventually led you sinking down on your knees as your jealous lover stood before you. It was as if the flames of his possessiveness ignited a primal need within him, driving him to assert his dominance and claim you as his own.
Letting out a satisfied sigh, you drank in the taste of his precum, reveling in the salty sensation as it danced across your taste buds before John rested his large, calloused hands upon your hair, gently guiding your movements with a firm touch.
His eyes were half-lidded, heavy with want, as you worked your magic, eliciting a drawn-out, staticky moan from deep within his chest.
You flattened your tongue more efficiently, eager to please him, to elicit even the slightest tremor of pleasure from his lips.
For a fleeting moment, a sensation of blazing heat washed over the back of your throat as you released him, lowering your head to place a tender kiss at the base of John's throbbing cock.
As your tongue darted out to caress the prominent vein, tracing its path with delicate precision, he struggled to contain the building pressure threatening to erupt within him.
A loud groan escaped John's lips as he lifted his hips slightly, urging you to take him deeper into your mouth. The unexpected motion caught you off guard and you fought against the instinct to gag, your body instinctively adjusting to accommodate him even as tears welled up in your eyes and began to trickle down your flushed cheeks.
''That's my girl-'' He murmured, his voice hoarsed as he tightened his grip on your hair and with a quick thrust, followed by a sharp gasp, he was sheathed fully in your throat.
You desperately tried not to gag as he continued to exert himself, pulling out of your mouth just to slam his length back in you again. He was using you, like a toy to release his pent-up sexual tension and unreasonable jealousy, and you could not have been more aroused.
"These lips belong to me, understand?" He grunted, punctuating his declaration with another forceful thrust into your throat.
The once defiant man now emitted sounds you had never heard before, a mix of a squeal and a moan, interspersed with gasps for air. You reached out to cup his balls through the fabric of his pants, feeling his member twitch under your tongue.
John drooled, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes tightly shut, his breath heavy, like music to your ears.
But what struck you most was the absence of his usual smirk, instead, a slight frown adorned his face as he gasped with each thrust into the recesses of your throat. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was close to release.
Profanities and shameless moans filled the quiet of the night, ensuring that the rest of the gang members close by would hear. John pulled your hair rather harshly, evidently losing control as he maneuvered your head just the way he desired.
The vibrations of your unfiltered sounds spread throughout his sensitive length, further enhancing the tingling pleasure he was feeling.
Without pause, he continued to fuck your throat with each jerk of your head, thrusting his cock down your throat just as he brought your head down to swallow him whole. Your lewd gags were the most beautiful sounds, and even more so, the thick pools of your saliva that connected your mouth to his length, the most beautiful sight.
The ache between your legs pulsed with each passing moment, the next breath that left your lungs rolling out in a trembling whine. Your skin felt as if it wanted to fly off your body into the next star system, consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.
Without warning, he pushed even deeper, and you understood immediately why. His orgasm ripped through him, eliciting another prolonged groan of satisfaction as his essence coated the back of your throat.
As he finally relented, leaving a strand of saliva and semen bridging your lips, he held his still pulsating member against your face, releasing one final burst that streaked across your forehead and hair.
You gazed at John in absolute awe, your senses still reeling from him soring both your lips and throat as he gradually descended from his euphoric state.
His eyes met yours, a smoldering intensity that made your breath catch in your throat and as he looked down at you, still kneeling before him, he reached out to caress your cheek, his touch gentle. His fingers, coated with remnants of his pleasure, traced delicate, wet patterns along your skin.
You watched, transfixed, as he brought his slickened finger to your lips, wordlessly offering it to you. Without hesitation, you parted your lips, tasting the tang of his salty essence as you obediently licked his finger clean.
Then, with a teasing spark in his eyes, he spoke arrogantly, his words dripping with playful suggestion. "Now go say hi to Javier for me. He'll get the message."
''Fuck you, Marston.'' As you rose to your feet, defiance burned in your eyes, though a hint of shyness tinged your voice.
''Your wish is my command, madam.'' Before you could fully process his words or reach out to him, he moved with unexpected swiftness, seizing your face in his hands and pulling you into a passionate kiss.
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𝘑𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘳:
You laid on the plush bed, draped in your silky nightgown, the warmth of the crackling fire beside you seeping into your skin.
As you basked in the warmth, Javier's lips began to trail soft, tender kisses along the expanse of your thighs. Each touch sent ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.
The lingering scent of whiskey and cigarettes clung to him, a testament to the indulgence he had partaken in at the hotel bar downstairs earlier that evening.
Despite his intoxication, Javier worshipped your body with a reverence that left you breathless. With every caress, every kiss, he took his time, exploring every inch of your skin as if it were a sacred temple to be cherished. His adoration was palpable, his actions speaking volumes of his devotion to you.
"Déjame probarte, mi amor. Por favor-" With each tender kiss, his drunken need for you intensified, his movements becoming more urgent.
(t: let me taste you, my love, please-)
You chuckled softly as you looked into his eyes, noticing the signs of intoxication lingering in his gaze.
"You're drunk, Javi.." You remarked with a playful smile, gently teasing him as you tried to reason with him. "Maybe we should just go to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
But he simply shook his head, his determination evident even in his inebriated state. "I'm not drunk," he protested with a lopsided grin, his words slurring slightly as he leaned closer to you. "Solo estoy disfrutando el momento contigo."
(t: I just want to enjoy this moment with you.'')
Despite not understanding a single word, the melodic rhythm of his speech sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but admire the way his lips formed each syllable, the passion and intensity in every word.
Lost in the moment, you found yourself running your fingers through his hair, savoring the softness beneath your touch.
''Quiero comerte entera, cariño-''
(t: I want to eat you whole, darling-)
Eventually, unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you gently interrupted him, your voice barely above a whisper. "Javi, can you translate that for me?"
Instead of obliging, he simply chuckled, his eyes glistening with mischief as he leaned in closer to your body.
"Let me show you, instead." He murmured, his voice husky as he spoke.
Finally, unable to resist any longer, he reached for the hem of your nightgown, lifting it slowly until it pooled around your stomach.
''Maybe we shouldn't..'' Your breath caught in your throat as you whispered, the words escaping your lips barely audible.
He just snickered, his laughter a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine, and whatever protest or remark you were going to make died down as the tip of his tongue nudged at your clit.
Your breath hitched in anticipation as you leaned back against the soft pillows, your heart pounding rapidly to the sudden touch. With trembling hands, you eagerly shuffled your legs further apart, offering him better access to your throbbing core.
You felt Javier's face burying itself between your thighs, the rough texture of his skin sending electric pulses of pleasure through your body.
The flat of his tongue started to give little kitten licks up and down your folds, each stroke sending waves of sensation coursing through you, always ending on a tantalizing drag against your sensitive pearl.
"Javi-" A little whimper escaped you, hushed and whining, as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure washing over you.
His amber eyes bore into yours as you swore you could feel him smirk against you, his silent amusement adding to the intoxicating mix of sensations.
''Oh god-'' Another chaste kiss to your clit elicited a gasping breath from you, your idle hand tightening its grip in his messy black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you encouraged him to continue.
You noticed a subtle change in Javier’s movements, a newfound urgency and dedication as he worshipped your body with his mouth.
Your juices began to coat his chin as he held onto your squirming hips, his eagerness showing in the way he practically pulled you down onto his face. With each suck and lick to your clit, he drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy, his ministrations becoming more fervent and desperate.
More keens and moans spilled from your lips as a graze of teeth sent bolts of pleasure through you, the sensation causing you to grind down onto his mouth in a fervour of need.
''Preciosa- fuck-'' There was a humming sound as Javier groaned beneath you, his own arousal taking over as he pleasured you.
A fog of a different kind of intoxication thickened in your mind, clouding your thoughts as you lost yourself in the throes of his lips.
With a certain tilt of your head, you caught sight of Javier jerking off his cock while he continued to devour you, his eyes half-lidded with desire as his tight fist worked up and down his length. The sight of him, slick with pre-cum fluids and swollen with the need to orgasm, only added to your own desperation for release.
The more ferociously he licked your pussy, the harder he stroked himself, his cock leaking slick from that swollen, reddened tip.
Slowly, Javier's middle finger pressed against you, the anticipation causing your breath to hitch in your throat. With a gentle but firm pressure, it slipped inside, encountering little resistance as it delved deeper. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp of pleasure, your body instinctively arching towards him as he filled you.
As his finger bottomed out inside you, a low moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled by the New pressure. You could feel the heat building between your legs, your arousal pooling at the point where his finger met your core.
Javier could sense the subtle changes in your body, the way your cunt fluttered and pulsed around his finger. He reveled in the feeling of you, the way you squeezed him tight, every ridge inside your plush walls a testament to your desire. With each gentle thrust of his finger, he explored the depths of your pleasure, savoring the intimacy of the moment.
He seemed to understand exactly how your body worked, his touch deliberate and calculated as he curled his finger just barely, sending you closer to your climax with each motion.
With a deft flick of his digit, he found your sweetest spot, and he didn't hesitate to exploit it. The sensation was electric, a symphony of pleasure that left you gasping for air. Again and again, he brushed against that sensitive area, each stroke consuming you whole.
You were on the brink of coming undone, your body thrumming with anticipation as Javier's touch sent ripples of pleasure cascading through you. But just as you felt yourself on the cusp, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you stunned and breathless.
Shock was displayed all over your features as Javier chuckled softly, his amusement evident all over his face.
And then, with a gentle but deliberate movement, Javier closed the distance between you, his eyes locked with yours as his hands roamed over your body.
''You're going to finish with me inside you, amor.''
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𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴:
As you walked towards the tranquil lake, away from the loud celebration of the gang's successful mission, the ethereal glow of the bright moon above casted a shimmering path across the water. The night air was crisp and cool against your skin, offering a welcome respite from the warmth of the fire.
Finding a secluded spot by the water's edge, you sat down and dipped your fingers into the cool, refreshing liquid, splashing it onto your face and shoulders in an attempt to wash away the remnants of the long day but before you could repeat the gesture, a pair of strong, familiar hands settled on your hips, sending a shiver down your spine.
Giggling, you turned to find Charles standing behind you, his breath heavy with the scent of whiskey. Despite his usual resilience to alcohol, it was clear that tonight's celebration had gotten the better of him. He had accepted Sean's challenge to see who could drink the most, and it seemed he had emerged on the losing end.
''Mhm, Charles-'' A whimper escaped your lips as his lips trailed along your skin with a newfound hunger, his breath hot against your neck.
Even in his inebriated state, Charles remained relatively quiet, his usual reticence undisturbed by the alcohol coursing through his veins.
However, there was a noticeable shift in his demeanor as his breath grew louder and heavier against your skin. With each kiss, his tongue teased and tantalized, promising the emergence of vivid purple marks on your skin in the morning.
A sudden gasp escaped your lips as he stumbled backwards, pulling you along with him. With a surprising agility, he managed to find purchase on a tree log, his body sinking onto it as he settled into a seated position with you straddling his thighs.
''Mm, need you, angel.'' Charles cooed softly, his touch tender as he rested his palm under your jaw. With a deft movement, he brought your face closer to his, his intent clear as he sought to capture the perfect view of your dazed eyes.
''Anything for my man.'' You whispered softly, your voice barely above a breath as you cradled his face in your hands
Wordlessly, you moved with anticipation, your hands trembling slightly as you slid down the waistband of his pants. As you did, you felt the warmth radiating from his clothed cock, the heat passing along your cheeks in a tantalizing wave.
With each inch of fabric you peeled away, the excitement grew even more as the cotton material finally wrapped around his muscular thighs.
A low hiss escaped Charles' lips as the brief contact of cold air brushed against his freed cock, causing it to spring to life with eager anticipation. The sound of it slapping heavily against his bruised stomach filled the air, echoing in the stillness of the night as the voices of your fellow gang members seemed to fade in the distance.
He was huge, his length extending well beyond his navel and the thickness of it easily comparable to your wrist.
With delicate precision, you used your fingertips to guide the hard length of him to your entrance, feeling the anticipation building with each passing moment.
As you started to sink down, the bulbous head of his cock dipped into the flesh of your labia, the pressure forcing the meaty lips to spread for him.
''Oh, my-'' A faltering breath escaped your lips as you sucked it in, a desperate attempt to steady yourself against the overwhelming sensation.
The lack of good preparation made the penetration a slow and deliberate process, each inch of him breaching your body with torturous slowness. Despite it all, the searing burn that accompanied his entry, only made you bask in the intensity of the sensation, your senses consumed by the pleasure of it all.
He breached your body one agonizing fraction at a time, the pressure just giving the right amount of painful as he pushed deeper inside you.
Finally, the glans of his cock popped through the first barrier, a primal moan escaping your lips as you stilled above him. With a newfound determination, you bore down on him again, the unbidden sound of your whimpers like music to his ears.
''You feel so-, so good-''Charles responded with a deep, rumbling noise, the barely coherent words reverberating through the air only to fuel your need to please him even more.
You choked on a disgruntled squawk as he lifted his hips, forcing himself another inch or so inside you. The sudden movement caught you off guard, causing you to sway above him, the tension in your loins doubling and threatening to overwhelm you.
''Mhm-'' Groaning deep in the back of your throat, you haltingly pivoted your hips, up, down, up and down.
Each movement a deliberate effort to loosen your passage and coat him in more arousal. With each motion, you felt the tension in your body ease, the sensation of him sliding against your inner walls igniting a fire within you.
As you started to lower yourself again, just a brief moment later, the penetration came easier, Charles' cock slipping effortlessly against your slickened walls until you were fully seated on his lap. With a heady sigh of pleasure, you tossed your head back, the sensation overwhelming your senses.
Taking advantage of your exposed vulnerability, Charles seized the opportunity to squeeze your breast in a tight grip, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.
''Look at you-'' He breathed, his voice heavy with adoration. ''So lovely when you’re enjoying yourself like this.''
Your whole body heaved and lurched at his praise, every single muscle in your shuddering frame locking up as you clamped down on him so hard it physically hurt.
A primal scream tore from your throat, echoing into the night sky as pure, unadulterated bliss rushed in to swarm your senses, completely overriding the faint discomfort of being stretched to the absolute limit.
In response to your climax, Charles groaned, his own pleasure evident as he let you ride out the waves of your ecstasy on his excitedly jumping cock. His hands grasped at your sides, fingers digging into the love handles he found there, holding onto you as if you were a lifeline in the midst of a storm.
Like a wild beast, you clawed at his flesh, your nails leaving red marks in their wake as you desperately sought release. His arms, shoulders, chest, anything you could reach became a canvas for your frenzied need as you bucked and spasmed throughout the throes of your ecstasy.
It was the sporadic squeezing of your cunt that finally milked the orgasm right out of him. You felt him stiffen beneath you, a grunt escaping his tightly clenched teeth as he violently twitched inside your body.
The abrupt pressure on your sweet spot had you seeing stars, your breath hitching as you swayed unsteadily on top of him, both of you lost in the overwhelming intensity of the moment.
It took you a prolonged moment to start coming down from the blinding rush of endorphins, your senses still swimming in the aftermath of ecstasy. Each breath came short and quick, the air feeling heavy against your chest as you struggled to regain your composure.
Your skin was sticky with sweat and it effectively glued you to him, making even the simple act of lifting your head a taxing effort.
As you laid there, basking in the warmth of his embrace, you became aware of Charles gently petting your head, his touch a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.
His fingers traced delicate patterns through your hair, smoothing down the unruly strands with a tenderness that brought a smile to your lips.
"Should I go thank Sean for this?" You murmured tiredly, the words slipping from your lips in a hazy whisper.
In response, Charles mumbled softly, his voice laced with warmth and affection, "Mhm, funny if you think that I'm gonna let you go anytime soon." The words were spoken with a hint of playfulness, the alcohol clearly waking him up instead of the opposite.
2K notes · View notes
atinylittlepain · 2 years
Note
Hiya! I love your writing so much it's amazing. Can I request Joel and Reader! smut? Maybe angry s3x? I loveeeee grumpy Joel. They would def be primal and rough and fast about it too...oof. I'm not too good at coming up with plotlines haha
Anyways thank you so much if you do! :3
oof, this was fun to write
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gif by @tightjeansjavi
Menace
Joel Miller x f!reader
Joel Miller masterlist
When Joel refuses to join her at the bar, she has a good time by herself. But he just can't stay away.
warnings | 18+ SMUT, rough sex, little angst, little fluff, mostly just smut tho
...........................
If Joel were here right now, she knows he wouldn’t like the looks of things one bit. Not because she’s in any sort of danger, the only real danger at the Tipsy Bison is whatever that cheap grog is that they keep stewing in the back. No, what Joel wouldn’t like to see is her having a good time, for once, without him. And that’s exactly what she’s doing. 
It’s a Friday night in Jackson, a town in which she can actually enjoy the luxury of having a real Friday night after a long week of patrol shifts. Joel, in all his brooding glory, had rejected her invitation to go out to the bar, telling her that all he wanted was some “fucking peace and quiet.” She hadn’t let that get her down, though, scoffing at his petulant grumbles and heading out by herself. And she was having a damn good time too.
“Goddamn, girl. Giving me a run for my money.” She grins at the man, idly spinning her cue stick in her hands as she walks along the pool table. 
“You better shape up then, or you’re gonna owe me another drink.” The man throws his head back in a laugh at that, his eyes crinkling up as he looks at her. His name is Teddy, one of the younger men around town who also works patrol shifts. She had a shift with him earlier in the week, and he had been warm and welcoming to her, still pretty new to the swing of things. It doesn’t take a genius to see that he’s flirting with her, and she’s happy to play along for now, knowing she’s got her grump of a man waiting for her back home, probably snoring in bed already. Love is strange, but she is Joel’s and he is most certainly hers, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. But for now, a little banter with this sweet boy isn’t going to hurt anyone.
“Watch and learn, Teddy. I’m gonna show you how it’s done.” The man whistles low as she bends over the table, lining her cue stick up with her target. So what if she’s hamming it up a bit? Shimmying her hips and flicking her hair out of her face. A small crowd has gathered around the table to watch her smoke this kid, and she’s enjoying the feeling of letting loose after being tensed up for so long.
She moves cool and slick around the table, driving home her last three balls before setting her sights on the eightball. It looks like a tough shot, and she revels in her confidence that she can sink it, feeling Teddy’s eyes sweeping down the slope of her back as she arches over the table. There’s a hushed swell of laughter and a few whoops when she hits the eightball clean into a pocket, and she turns and shoots Teddy a crooked smile.
“Pay up, boy. I want the good stuff this time, top shelf only.” Teddy barks out another laugh, but it quickly dissolves as his eyes flit just behind her. She feels him before she sees him, the solid warmth of him pressing up behind her and a broad palm splaying over her shoulder. He’s certainly not snoring in bed.
“You’ll have to take a rain check, son. She’s needed at home right now.” The low rasp of his voice tells her all she needs to know. He saw her, and the little moves she was making, and now, Joel Miller is pissed.
She can see the bob of Teddy’s throat as he swallows, nodding jerkily. She winces at the crack in his voice when he says that’s alright, he’ll see her around. Joel may be a grump, but he’s also a scary grump when he wants to be, like right about now as he’s steering her out of the bar with his hand still on her shoulder.
“Putting on a little show for all them townsfolk, darlin?” His southern drawl always gets headier, slower, when he’s angry. It’s never a good sign when she starts having a hard time pulling his honey-thick words apart. But she refuses to let him intimidate her, huffing as they trudge through town toward their house.
“It was just a little fun, Joel. I know you’re not too familiar with the concept, but—”
“Oh, you’re wrong about that, darlin. Me and you? We’re about to have a whole lot of fun.” So it’s like that. She can’t help the excited shiver that runs up her spine at his words, heat already starting to lick at her core. She’s known him long enough to know that when Joel is pissed at her, it can only go one of two ways. Sometimes, he’ll shut down and sulk off, keeping his distance until he’s gotten some sense back in his body to come talk to her. But other times, his anger flirts over into a jagged lust, only simmering to cool when they’re both too sore to bitch at each other anymore, a heaving tangle of sweat and pleasure. And judging by the hard flush she can see peeking out of his shirt collar as they get home, she’d put money on this being one of those other times.
The instant the front door closes behind her, he’s pressing her back up against it, swallowing her gasp as he licks into her mouth. She presses her palms into his chest to try to get some space, but he’s immovable, dragging his lips down her neck and nudging the collar of her shirt out of the way to suck searing bruises into her collarbone. She tugs harshly at his hair to get him to finally take a breath.
“Hey, hey. What about Ellie?” 
“At Dina’s.” And with those few gruff, syllables, he’s back on her, shoving his jean-clad thigh between her legs and pressing up hard into her core, her hips immediately grinding down to seek any kind of relief to the quick-building heat blooming up her spine. 
“You’re something else, you know that? Saw you acting so tough, so cool down at the bar.” His words are a smear across her chest as he works the buttons of her shirt open, dipping down to mouth at the fabric of her bra the moment he gets access, her back arching up into his mouth as she lets out a long sigh of his name. He chuckles into her skin.
“None of them know how sweet you get like this, though. S’just for me, right?” She chokes on a breath as his hand wrenches down the front of her jeans, rough fingers swiping through the slick pooling between her folds. He drags his nose up her cheek as he works one, then two of his fingers into her, her knees buckling when he crooks his digits just so, her cunt clenching hard.
“Asked you a question, darlin. Who’s all this for, huh?” His fingers are pumping into her relentlessly, the squelching noise of each thrust embarrassingly lewd and loud. It’s all she can do to give him a response.
“You– it’s all for you– fuck– only for you– it’s– just you– please–” He laughs, the smug bastard, smearing a kiss to her temple as he continues to fuck her with his fingers, the heel of his palm digging just right into her clit.
“That’s right, baby. S’all for me. Think you can give me one just like this? C’mon, know you can. Be good for me. Just for me.” He doesn’t have to tell her twice, her cunt already spasming around his fingers as she lets out a broken cry, pleasure crashing over her in ebbs and flows as he fucks her through it. He finally relents when her preening whines turn into whimpers, pulling his hand away and sucking his fingers into his mouth as she slumps back against the door.
She’s a complete mess, her shirt hanging loosely off her arms, the cups of her bra shoved down to let her tits spill out, while Joel stands before her still fully clothed, a contrast that sets heat simmering in her belly all over again. She closes the gap between them this time, pressing in for a demanding kiss as she shrugs her shirt off the rest of the way, fumbling behind her back to snap the clasp of her bra open as well. Joel’s hands are on her right away, palming the swell of her tits before squeezing just harshly enough to make her gasp into his mouth, her fingers stuttering where she was working on the buttons of his shirt. He seems to get the hint, swatting her hands away from his half undone shirt and tugging it the rest of the way off by the collar. 
“I need you right now, darlin. Got me fucking aching here.” 
They’re a stumbling swirl of limbs as they fumble upstairs to their bedroom, banging into walls and slamming doors along the way. 
He gets her exactly where he wants her, on all fours at the end of the bed, and she yelps as he wrenches her jeans and panties down her thighs. She cranes her neck over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of him, his jeans rucked down just enough for him to free his cock as he fists himself over her, his other palm kneading the swell of her ass. He nudges his swollen tip through her folds and she shivers at the sensation, trying to press her hips back into him to get more of anything. Joel doesn’t seem to like that though, laying a harsh smack to her ass that makes her nearly jump out of his hold.
“Mind your manners, darlin. Don’t get greedy on me.” She huffs, trying to look back over her shoulder at him but he presses a rough palm between her shoulder blades, forcing her back to bow until she’s collapsing onto her arms, cheek smushed into the sheets. 
He presses into her with one hard thrust, his hips grinding into the plush of her ass as she lets out a broken cry.
“Fuck– always so tight for me– fucking made for me, huh?” She can’t respond to his breathless words, not with the brutal pace he’s setting, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room as he pumps into her, his leaking tip hitting a spot inside her that has her mouth opening in a silent scream. Suddenly, he’s snaking his palm up her chest, pressing between her tits to pull her up until her back is snug against the warmth of his chest, his lips pressed hotly to the shell of her ear.
“Tell me you’re mine, darlin. Wanna hear you say it.” She lets out a low moan as his hand dips down, the rough pads of his fingers dragging across her clit. Meanwhile, he’s skirted his other palm up to her throat, curling his fingers lightly, a faint but firm pressure making her mind go hazy. 
“I’m yours– I’m all yours– please, I’m so close–” His thrusts are getting shorter, more of a deep grind up inside her that has her clenching hard around him.
“Want you to say my name when you come, darlin. Make a fucking mess– c’mon, that’s it.” It becomes too much all at once, and she finds herself letting out a panting sigh of his name as pleasure finally snaps inside her. His hands slacken where they had been holding her up and she collapses forward, resting her teary face in her arms as he fucks her through her high.
“So perfect for me, darlin– shit– just a little more, huh? Fucking close.” His hips start to stutter against hers, and she does her best to press back against him.
“Please, Joel– want it so bad– c’mon, baby, give it to me.” He lets out a low curse, pulling out and fisting himself once, twice, before he’s painting her ass with his spend. He lets out a hard breath before flopping down next to her on the bed, dragging a hand down his flushed face. She winces as she lets her legs splay out, slinking down onto her stomach. There will be bruises tomorrow, without a doubt. She crooks her face to the side to look at him, still panting, eyes scrunched closed.
“Feel better now?” He cracks one eye open, glancing at her before fully turning on his side to steal a kiss from her lips.
“Fucking menace. Yes, I feel better now.” With that, he flops onto his back again, crossing his arms behind his head. She shimmies over to rest her head on his chest, her chin propped up on his sternum so she can look at him. 
“You better get me cleaned up, Miller. Made a damn mess.” He huffs, bringing one hand down and smacking the curve of her ass, making her yelp in surprise. She tries to kiss away the all too smug grin on his face, but it’s still there when she pulls back.
“I will. But first, I gotta know. Where the hell did you learn to play pool like that?” She lets out an exasperated laugh at that.
“Come with me to the bar next Friday night and I’ll tell you.” A low grumble resounds through his chest, but he’s still smiling as he shakes his head at her.
“You’re on, darlin. I should warn you though. I’m gonna whoop your ass.”
“Looking forward to it, Miller.”
3K notes · View notes
slu7formen · 6 months
Text
MDNI. luke x drunk!reader
luke decides to take care of you when he notices how drunk you are a party, you didn’t know how much you needed him until he showed you so.
warnings: drunk!reader, protective!luke, lil violence, use of yn, allusion to s3x
reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
₊˚⊹♡
The melody from a stolen radio emerged through the humid night air, barely audible over the loud laughter and shouted conversations of the older campers reunited in the woods. The stars offered little illumination, replaced by the flickering glow of a bonfire fueled by firewood. The air was heavy and hot, filled with the scent of chips, spilled beer, and teenage rebellion. This was a rare ocasion for the senior campers, a chance to forget about monstrous threats and drakon training for a night.
Luke nestled in the shadows of a nearby oak tree, holding a way too warm can of beer to drink now, and listened to his friends, trade their usual brand of mischievous gossip. A comfortable camaraderie settled over him, a welcome respite from the weight of responsibility that pressed down on him as a counselor.
"Did you see Lucy practically drooling over Malcolm after Ally dumped him?" Travis snickered, nudging Connor with his elbow.
Connor snorted, barely containing his laughter. "Ouch, sister drama. Ally must be thinking about drowning her in cheap perfume"
Luke chuckled, shaking his head. The Aphrodite cabin drama was always entertaining, even if a little predictable. He glanced around the clearing, his gaze sweeping over the other campers. A group of Ares cabin warriors were engaged in a play-fight, throwing each other to the ground as they groaned and laughed. He spotted Katie Gardner, daughter of Demeter, tending to a small patch of wildflowers. Even at a forbidden party, Katie couldn't resist nurturing something green.
"Hey, Luke" Chris nudged him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You gonna tell us your big secret yet? We all know there's something going on between you and yn"
Luke's smile faltered slightly. "There's nothing to tell" he replied noncommittally, taking a swig of his warm beer, the taste bitter in his tongue. “We’re just friends”
"Oh, come on" Connor pressed, a sly smirk spreading across his face. "We see the way you look at her. Like she's the only girl alive."
Luke rolled his eyes, but a blush crept up his neck under the teasing of his friends. Suddenly, a melodic laugh cut through the din, a sound that sent a jolt through him. It was your laugh, bright and carefree, a stark contrast to the usual reserved demeanor you displayed around camp. He followed the sound, his gaze landing on you amidst a group of campers near the edge of the clearing. But it wasn't your presence that triggered a tightening in his chest. It was the hulking figure of Ares cabin resident, Mark, who stood far too close to you, his arm draped around your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper something that caused another burst of laughter from you.
A sting of jealousy pierced Luke´s insides. He knew it was silly. He and you were nothing more than friends. But still, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna like it when he sees you with some other guy. He watched as you swayed slightly, the red plastic cup clutched loosely in your hand a clear indication of your intoxicated state. Your usually sharp eyes held a glazed look, a vulnerability that made his protective instincts flare.
He saw you and Mark detach from the group, heading deeper into the shadowy woods. There was a part of him that urged him to let you be, to let you enjoy your night. But another, more primal part couldn't shake the image of you, intoxicated and unaware, disappearing into the woods with someone like Mark.
Sighing, Luke pushed himself off the tree trunk. “I´ll be back in a minute” he says to his friends, leaving his can on Travis´ hand. He weaved through the tight and large group of campers, his purpose hardening with each step. You stumbled on a protruding root, giggling at your own clumsiness. Mark steadied you, his hand lingering on your waist in a way that made Luke’s right eye twitch.
"Hey, yn" Luke's voice cut through the air, catching your attention. You turned, your face splitting into a wide, drunken smile.
"Luuuke!" you slurred, swaying towards him with open arms, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Ignoring the glare Mark shot his way, Luke enveloped you in a hug, his nose crinkling at the distinct scent of fruit punch and something a little stronger.
"Whoa there" he chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He could smell the sugary sweetness of your lip gloss. "Easy, tiger."
You giggled, your head lolling against his shoulder. You mumbled something nonsensical, giggling at a private joke only you seemed to understand. Your mascara, usually neatly applied, had smudged slightly at the corners of your eyes. Despite the obvious effects of the alcohol, you were undeniably beautiful, the firelight casting warm shadows on your face. "M'so happpy you´re here! Dance with me!" you yelled as you lift your arms, your voice thick with intoxication. Luke felt a pang of worry. You were far too drunk to be alone in the woods with a boy you barely knew.
"Seems like you've had a few too many tonight, huh?"
"Just having a little fun, Luke" you pouted, the way you said his name sounded funny. "Don't be a all couns-, counselor"
He glanced over your shoulder towards Mark, whose jaw was clenched tight. "Yeah, well, maybe a little too much fun" Luke countered, his voice gaining a hint of firmness, but as softly as possible. "Maybe it's time for you to head back to your cabin, yeah?”
"But Mark was showing me…" you began, but were cut off by Mark's snide voice.
"Mind your own business, Castellan" He growled. Luke narrowed his eyes at the Ares camper, a dangerous glint flickering within them. “This doesn´t concern you”
"She's clearly not in control of herself" Luke retorted, his voice low and cold. "Someone needs to make sure she gets back safely. And it won't be you."
Mark scoffed, a humorless sound. "Says who? Why don't you worry about yourself, Castellan?"
The barb hit a nerve. Luke wasn't drunk, but the implication stung. He wasn't about to get into a debate about his tolerance with this ridiculously big guy.
"Look," Luke said tightly, trying to keep his voice calm, "I'm not trying to cause any trouble. I just—"
"Just what?" Mark interrupted, stepping forward, his chest puffing out in a show of dominance. "Going to swoop in and save the damsel in distress? You think she needs rescuing?"
He shot a pointed look at you, who seemed to be lost in your own world, giggling at some private joke as you covered your mouth. The sight of it only fueled Luke's simmering anger.
"Whether she needs help or not isn't the point" Luke growled, his voice strained. "The point is, she's clearly intoxicated and shouldn't be alone with someone she barely knows."
"Barely knows?" Mark echoed, a sneer twisting his lips. "We were just getting to know each other, weren't we, yn?"
He turned to you, his voice dripping with false sweetness. You blinked at him owlishly, then shrugged, a nonsensical answer escaping your lips.
The sight of it was too much for Luke. His fists clenched at his sides. He knew Mark was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him, but it was working. The implication that his concern was fueled by jealousy rather than genuine care was infuriating.
“Now if you excuse us…” Mark pointed out, pulling you to him by your hip as he tried to walk away with you.
But Luke´s had enough. That was the last straw. In a blur of motion, Luke lashed out. He lunged forward, his fist connecting with Mark's nose with a satisfying crunch. Mark stumbled back, roaring in pain, a hand flying up to his now-bleeding nose.
You, however, seemed oblivious to the sudden violence. You blinked at the scene in confusion, your brow creased in a frown as you looked at Mark. "What the-…" your words slurred, lost in the midst of your intoxication.
But before you could form a complete sentence, a wave of fury washed over you. You turned around, shoving Luke hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back a step. "What the fuck, Luke!" you shrieked, your voice laced with a venom that startled him. "Why do you always have to be all over me!?"
The words hit Luke like a physical blow. He wasn't angry at you, not truly. You were clearly out of it, the world a dizzy sight because of whatever it is that you drank. But the accusation stung. Here he was, trying to protect you from a situation you couldn't navigate in your current state, and you saw it as him controlling you.
"yn," he started again, trying to choose his words carefully. "I just-"
"Just what?" you shot back, your voice thick with slurred defiance. "Just what gives you the right to decide what I do?"
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Luke's heart ached. You were upset, confused, and vulnerable – a dangerous combination amplified by the alcohol coursing through your veins.
You crossed your arms over your chest as you sniffed, walking past him fast, head down and all pouty. “You ruined everything” you mumbled, more to yourself than directly to him, but he still heard. Luke watched you go, a wave of despair washing over him. He'd messed up.
He glanced back at Mark, who was clutching his nose and glaring at him with a mixture of fury and grudging respect. "Look, man" Luke sighed, the fight momentarily draining out of him. "That was a cheap shot, I´m sorry"
Mark grunted, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand. "Yeah, well, you got a nice fist, I must say."
There was a hint of grudging respect in his voice, perhaps because he couldn't deny that Luke's concern for you seemed genuine, or because if he recieved another punch, he'd need his nose surgically reattached.
"I wasn´t gonna do much either" he tried to defend himself. “She can´t even walk straight” Mark mumbled, ponting at you, then he turned away and disappeard into the shadows.
Luke glanced back at your retreating figure. He knew he needed to fix things with you, but for now, all he could do was hope you wouldn't hold his overprotective actions against him. He took a deep breath and started following you, determined to apologize and explain his actions once you were sober enough to listen.
Your walk was more of a drunken sashay, hips swaying precariously with each wobbly step. Luke watched you stumble away, a knot of frustration tightening in his gut. He knew you weren't thinking straight, the alcohol muddling your judgment and turning his concern into a controlling act in your eyes.
"yn" he called after you, his voice laced with a pleading he rarely used. "Wait a minute, please."
You ignored him, your focus solely on putting distance between you and Luke. He quickened his pace, catching up beside you.
"Seriously, stop it" Luke's voice was closer now. "You're going to fall on your face if you keep walking like that."
You stopped short, whirling around to face him. “Will you stop following me? This is embarrasing enough, Luke”
"Embarrassing?" Luke echoed, his voice rising in exasperation. "You're practically falling over drunk! You can't just walk around like this."
"I can handle myself" you slurred, puffing out your chest in a show of false bravery. You wobbled slightly, proving his point.
Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look…" he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm just worried about you. You're clearly hammered, and it's not safe for you to be alone."
You scoffed. "Safe? I'm not a little girl, Luke. I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, well, right now you can't even take care of your balance!" he retorted, his patience wearing thin. You wobbled again, nearly toppling over before catching yourself on a nearby tree trunk.
"Just stop following me, okay?" you slurred, your voice thick with a pout. "I don't need this from you"
He sighed as your trembling body swayed precariously, threatening to topple over at any moment. Luke knew arguing with you further would be pointless. You were a force of nature in your current state, fueled by both alcohol and indignation. He needed to take a different approach.
With a resigned sigh, he whipped his denim jacket off in one swift motion. Kneeling before you, he draped it around your waist, the familiar scent of him momentarily grounding you. You blinked at him, a flicker of confusion replacing the anger in your eyes.
"What are you—woah!" you yelped before you could finish your question. In a smooth, practiced motion honed from years of wrestling monstrous opponents, Luke scooped you up effortlessly, hoisting you over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
A surprised shriek erupted from your lips. The world tilted on its axis as you found yourself dangling upside down. The clearing erupted in laughter. A few of the campers who had been watching the whole scene unfold hooted and hollered, their amusement evident. "Careful with that one, Luke!" one of them called out, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Looks like she bites!"
Luke shot him a withering look, his jaw clenched. "Very funny" he muttered, ignoring the whistles and catcalls from the others. His focus was solely on you, the warmth of your body radiating against his back.
“You better put me down!" you shrieked, kicking your legs in the air in a futile attempt to dislodge yourself.
"Not a chance, Short Stuff" Luke called back.
"But I don't want to go back to my cabin yet! The party's just getting started!" You pounded your fists against his back, a feeble attempt at protest. "Seriously, Luke, put me down! I can walk perfectly fine!"
"Uh-huh, you´re right" he said sarcastically, walking down with your full weight on one shoulder as if you were as light as a feather.
You let out a frustrated groan, burying your face on his back. “This so embarrasing!” you cried. You hated that he was right. You were a mess, and the last thing you needed was to stumble around the woods in this state, potentially attracting unwanted attention.
Despite your annoyance, a strange sense of security settled over you as Luke carried you. The rhythmic thud of his footsteps against the earth and the warmth of his hands radiating against your legs as he held you were oddly comforting.
The walk to your cabin, however, was far from peaceful. You continued to mumble incoherent protests, punctuated by occasional swats at his back and what felt like an eternity of "Put me down!"s. But Luke remained undeterred, his jaw set in a determined line.
Finally, after what felt like an hour —but was probably closer to five minutes—, you reached your cabin. Relief washed over Luke as he gently lowered you onto the porch, careful not to jostle you too much.
You glared at Luke, your arms crossed defiantly across your chest. He couldn’t tell if your eyes were truly filled with anger of constantly trying to focus on his face so your world wouldn’t keep spinning.
"Well, aren't you prince charming himself, Mr. Castellan" you huffed, voice thick with a playful slur. "Kidnapping girls and all"
Luke, however, seemed unfazed. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself. "Just get in, sleepyhead" he countered, his eyes gleaming under the moonlight as he opened the unlocked door to your cabin.
You pouted, a childish expression along with the stomping of your feet on the wooden porch. "I could have walked!" you protested weakly, knowing full well it was a lie.
He ignored your protest, stepping past you and gently maneuvering you towards your bed, placing his hand on your lower back as you walked. The cabin was, as expected, empty. Your half-siblings, ever the social butterflies, were undoubtedly wreaking havoc at the party you were now forbidden to attend.
You felt lonely for a second, but it was quickly overshadowed by the warmth that spread through you as Luke helped you onto the bed. You wanted to be furious with him, to unleash the full force of your drunken anger. But the lingering warmth of his touch on your legs and back, the way he so effortlessly hoisted you like a defiant princess, somehow muddled your outrage. The thought was absurd and yet undeniably attractive.
He knelt down in front of you once you sat at the edge of your bed. You could smell the faint scent of woodsmoke and pine needles clinging to his clothes, a comforting aroma that filled your nosestrils instantly.
With a gentle hand, he reached out your calve and started unlacing your boots, his touch surprisingly tender. You watched him in a daze, your head spinning slightly. The world seemed to tilt on its axis again, everything blurring at the edges except for Luke's face. You watched him in fascination as he repeated the process with your other foot.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over you. You squeezed your eyes shut and groaned, a weak sound that escaped your lips.
Luke, sensing your distress, immediately stopped what he was doing. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he placed one hand on your knee.
You opened your eyes, blinking slowly. "Yeah, just a little…" you trailed off, searching for the right word. "Woozy" you finally managed.
Then, he stood up and looked around. His gaze landed on a package of makeup wipes on your bedside table. Without a word, he picked them up and returned to stand in front of you.
"You might want to clean some of this off" he said, holding up a wipe and gesturing to the smudged mascara beneath your eye.
You were speechless. No one had ever offered to do something like this for you before. A warmth bloomed in your chest, chasing away the remnants of your anger.
He held the wipe out to you, but you didn't take it. Instead, you found yourself blurting out; "Can you do it for me?"
He didn't hesitate. He fully unfolded the wipe as he lowered to you just a little to continue the process of taking care of you, his touch tender.
He was wiping the makeup from your face with a meticulousness that surprised you. You sat there, mesmerized, feeling strangely vulnerable under his watchful gaze even though you kept your eyes closed. The alcohol, combined with the unexpected intimacy of the moment, had rendered you uncharacteristically quiet.
"You didn't have to punch him, you know" you mumbled, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
He kept as concentraded in his task as he was before. "Who?" he asked, though you both knew exactly who you were talking about.
"Mark" you clarified.
Luke sighed, going for your other eye. "He was… well, he was clearly taking advantage of your state" he explained patiently.
"How do you know?" you challenged, a sliver of defiance still clinging to your voice.
"Because I know you, yn" he said softly, his gaze locking with yours. "You think I would´ve done what I did if you were sober?"
His words hit you like a wave of realization. Shame washed over you, hot and prickly. You hadn't realized how vulnerable you were, how easily manipulated under the influence of your drink. “There we go” He stopped his movements eyes. “All clean” he announced as he placed the dirty wipes over your bedside table.
"I-, I'm sorry" you mumbled, looking down at your lap, playing with the edges of your miniskirt. "I shouldn't have pushed you like that."
He knelt down again, this time untangling his denim jacket from around your waist. As he spoke, his voice was laced with a quiet understanding. "Listen, I know you might be mad at me for… well, everything. But I wasn't trying to ruin your night. I was just worried about you. You were drunk… you are drunk” he said playfully, reaching out and squeezing your cheek as if you were a little kid. “and that Ares guy –, didn't exactly seem like he wanted to be nice, and I can’t handle that. You can´t go around with people you don´t know, you know better than that" his voice dropped again.
He was right, of course. You were a demigod, trained to be aware of your surroundings and the dangers that lurked in the shadows. Yet, tonight, you'd thrown all caution to the wind, blinded by the effects of vodka and fruit juice and the fleeting attention of a stranger.
A pang of guilt washed over you. You squeezed his hand, a silent apology for your earlier outburst.
He gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return, his lips curving into a small smile. “Besides, we´re friends, right?”
The word felt cold, heavy with unspoken meaning. Friends. You and Luke. The idea was both familiar and exhilarating, a spark igniting somewhere deep within you. You didn´t say anything, but Luke didn´t need you to.
He stood up again and leaned down, surprising you by brushing a light kiss on your forehead. It was a chaste gesture, meant to be comforting, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through you.
"Go get some sleep" he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'll check on you in the morning."
He started to turn away, but before he could take a step, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait" you stammered, your cheeks flushing crimson.
Luke turned back, a questioning eyebrow raised. In that moment, the alcohol-fueled bravado that had propelled you through the night seemed to evaporate. You were left with a newfound shyness, a sudden awareness of the intimate atmosphere that had settled between you.
"Can you..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "can you stay a little?"
Luke stared at you for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He didn't answer immediately. He stood there for a long moment, studying your face, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions.
Emboldened by a newfound courage, you stood up from the bed. You were still a little unsteady on your feet, the remnants of alcohol making your movements slightly wobbly.
Reaching out, you stopped in front of him, his height suddenly a towering presence. You closed the gap between you two in a second. Now you were standing impossibly close, your body brushing against his.
Looking up at him, you were struck by how tall he seemed, how broad his shoulders were. A wave of dizziness washed over you as you registered the clean scent of his cologne, one that you hadn’t noticed before, a scent that suddenly seemed incredibly appealing.
"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely a breath, your eyes tracing the outline of his lips. "When did you get so tall?"
He chuckled softly, a low rumble that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. "Maybe you just haven't noticed before" he replied, his voice a husky murmur.
The playful banter momentarily broke the tension, but the air between you still crackled as heavy as it could. Your gaze drifted back to his lips, now so close you could almost feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.
They were full, inviting, and in a moment of drunken bravery, you found yourself leaning closer, your lips hovering just a breath away from his. "You smell good" you mumbled, your voice slurred but filled with a newfound confidence.
Luke swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. He was dangerously close to you, the heat radiating from your body a tangible thing in the cool cabin air. His muscles tensed, a battle raging within him between concern and a growing desire.
You reached out and toched his thigh, your fingers brushing against the worn fabric of his jean. Slowly, teasingly, you trailed your hand upward, until you reached his belt, hooking one finger to it, and you pulled him even closer to you. The movement was subtle but undeniably provocative, sending a jolt of electricity through Luke's body.
He stood frozen, mesmerized by the sudden boldness you exuded. This wasn't the girl he knew, the playful friend who teased him mercilessly. This was a stranger cloaked in the familiar, and the effect was intoxicating.
His own breath came out in a ragged sigh. Every rational part of him screamed at him to step away, to put some distance between the two of you. You were clearly inebriated, and taking advantage of that wouldn't be right.
But another part of him, a more primal part, yearned to close the gap between you, just a breath away. He had always found you attractive, drawn to your quick wit and fiery spirit. But the line between friendship and something more had always felt too blurry to cross.
Now, with the inhibitions lowered by alcohol, that line seemed to have vanished entirely.
He leaned in closer, the space between your faces shrinking with each passing moment. The scent of your coconut perfume and something uniquely you filled his senses, further muddling his already clouded judgment.
"yn" he began, his voice husky, a warning more for himself than for you.
"Stay" you whispered, your lips still hovering tantalizingly close to his. The raw need in your eyes mirrored the war raging within him. “Stay and make me yours, Luke. Please”
His hand reached up, cupping your jaw as his gaze locked with yours. You tilted your head into his touch, a silent invitation.
"We can't do this, gorgeous” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "You're not sober”
"I don't care" you interrupted, your voice thick with a desperation that surprised even you.
Luke felt his resolve crumble. He wanted this, just as much as you did. The idea of kissing you, of finally exploring the feelings that had simmered beneath the surface for so long, of touching you, feeling you, was undeniably tempting.
But a sliver of sanity remained. He knew that taking advantage of you in this state would be a betrayal of your trust, something he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for.
"But I do" he countered, his voice firm yet gentle. "If I'm doing this with you, I want to do it right. When you're sober and can make a real choice. When you can remember"
A wave of disappointment washed over you, but a tiny voice in the back of your head, untouched by the alcohol's haze, whispered its thanks. He was right. This wasn't the way you wanted things to happen.
So you nodded slowly, a small pout forming on your lips.
"Alright" you mumbled, letting go of his belt loop. “Can you still stay a little longer, though?”
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss to your cheek, the touch feather-light, sending another wave of warmth through you.
"Go to sleep, trouble" he chuckled, the sound warm and familiar.
You walked back onto the bed, a strange mix of disappointment and relief swirling within you. As you drifted off to sleep, Luke pulled a chair beside the bed and settled down, keeping a silent vigil over you.
You immediately fell asleep, your mind could be running as fast as it could, but your body told another story. He watched you sleep for a moment, then left and went back to the party.
On his way back, he couldn’t help it but smirk to himself, a gushing and warm feeling rushing on his chest as he realized how close he had you. How his feeling were not so oblivious to you, and now that he knew, he wouldn’t have to work so hard to have you, or hide any longer.
826 notes · View notes
pastelclovds · 1 year
Note
Primal/predator play?
No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK Yes! | Oh god you don’t even know
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(cw: CNC, sex in the woods, and amab!reader)
imagine your lover running through the woods with nothing but a tight t-shirt and their underwear, the bright shine of the full moon being their only source of light as they try to get as far away from you. it may seem like they are in deep trouble, but in reality, they want to be caught by you. they love the thrill of you chasing them as they pretend to run for their life. their arousal grows when they hear your pacing footsteps behind them. your lover spots a tree root poking out of the grass and purposely runs towards it and “trips”. making them fall onto the soft, long grass as you loom over them.
you quickly try to pin them down as they struggle for freedom, but you eventually get the better of them. they rest their face onto the ground in false defeat as one of your hands onto their arms behind their back and rip their underwear in two. your lover gasps when they felt the cold air brush against their sex. “you should’ve known better than to run into the woods.” you purr into their ear. but they spit in your face, “go to hell,” they growl under their breath. you wiped the spit off with your fingers and put them inside their hole as they let out screams and moans.
they’ve already prepped them themselves for this scene, but you just wanted to make sure it would be too painful for them. you continued to play with their hole without another word, until you pulled out your wet fingers, held onto their hips, and filled them with your cock. they let out wails of pleasure as you set a brutal pace, uncaring who or what could be watching you. after a few minutes of railing into them, your lover closed their eyes in bliss as they reached their climax.
you didn’t stop your rough thrusts, causing them to be overstimulated and their sex throbbing. they turn their tear streaked face to yours, only to see your hungry-filled eyes. “i’m not satisfied, slut,” you say with an evil grin. oh how they loved every second of you using them like a cheap toy. degrading them until they actually began to believe their only purpose was to serve you. they’ve lost count at how many times you’ve come inside them. but they couldn’t care less, all that matter was you and pleasure.
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
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Jungkook
𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: The Hunt 🔞
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Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.
Main Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, strangers to lovers/mates, mentions of folklore and traditions, modern fantasy, romance, Dragon!Reader, it's finally here, Primal Play who would've thought, intense making out, sexual tension, smut, rough but sensual, protected sex you know me by now I always manage to sneak protection into these situations and so should you, biting, strength kink oops, knotting oops², Jungkook steals her underwear wait what-, outdoor sex, FLUFF
Length: 3.2k words
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A/N: Hi hello please eat well thank you
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🐉── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
The hunt is something you never thought you'd experience for yourself.
You're not really a fan of men constantly barking about how capable and masculine they are- when down the line all it's built on is insecurity and mommy-issues. Dragonkin of your age tend to be like that however. And so for the longest time, you had simply told yourself to leave the community entirely, and just live a normal human life away from your roots, like most female dragonkin do.
And then- well, then came Jungkook.
While at first, you didn't really trust him, you now know that it was mostly because he just felt.. too good to be true. There just had to be something off about him, something bad that he's hiding- and maybe there is, and he's just an extraordinarily skilled manipulator. But even if he is, you don't mind any longer. He can have you.
But not without any fight from your end.
The festival is in full force now, and as you step outside, you're immediately greeted by the sounds of music, people laughing and dancing, and food being cooked and eaten. You keep your eyes open for any sign of Jungkook being present-
after all, the moon is high up, meaning that the hunt, even now as you just finished your own part of the tradition inside the house, is on.
Any second now he could grab you, and you'd be officially his.
You've cleaned your body and made sure to use a scented body oil right after- lavender, to confuse his senses. You're not going to make it easy, not now, and not ever. If he wants to be with you, and more so stay with you, he's going to have to put in work as well- and you want him to know that right from the start. You're a dragonkin, just like him after all. You're not going to stay with someone who thinks he's a treasure, but in reality is just cheap metals acting like it.
But for now, you'll keep an eye out for him as you stand by a grill, getting some food for yourself while he's probably already hunting you in silence, waiting for his chance to strike.
And true to that, unbeknownst to you, he is already stalking his treasure, waiting for the perfect moment.
He's picked up your scent already, heavily masked by the floral body oil and the shampoo you've used for your hair today. The night of the Hunt is always special- both him and you wash off anything of the past still clinging to your bodies, before you dive in and give into your instincts, to lead you where you want to be in the future.
Either together, or apart. If you want the latter, you'll need to escape him until the sun starts to rise. But he feels like that won't happen- because just a moment later, as he walks around a corner, there in the distance, he can see you.
As soon as he spots you, it’s like his instincts take ahold of him. There’s no denial of the power you already hold over him, one glance enough to trap him into abandoning anything he was going to do- instead, his legs already moving, feet on their way to follow where you’re leading him. Through the crowds and past dancing people, the lights and lanterns glow as if to help him in keeping up with you.
The jump in your step makes it the more clear to him that you’re clearly enjoying this, teasing him almost; the bell on your anklet a siren song putting him into a trance, helplessly cursed to follow wherever you go.
And then you turn around, impish smile on your lips as you catch his hand, pulling him closer to you as you jump and dance to the music being played, but only for a moment, before your hands push against his chest, the chase finally starting as you give him the final sign to catch you now.
You’re offering him a chance- and he’d be stupid not to take it.
Your laughter makes it horribly easy to follow you through the woods, stray lanterns here and there helping his human sight to stand a chance during this night. The music has grown faint, drums still heavy and noticeable, just like the other instruments and laughing people back at the main grounds. He can hear your breathing by now, and it fuels his own desire because it’s a sign that he’s almost made it.
He can’t let you get away now.
You can hear him close behind, boots heavy on the forest floor as he never seems to lose sight of you- and you wouldn’t want him to, either. He’s already proven himself as a more than suitable mate, as more than a potential friend or lover. But he’s a bit cocky, a little bit too proud and up in the clouds- a lesson is due it seems for the tall dragon chasing you as if he’s the apex predator.
Sure, the anklet he gave you might be a little bit of a hassle- but nothing you can’t handle. He thinks he’s already got you pinned. He thinks you’ll just make it easy.
It’s time to prove him wrong.
Swiftly you grab the hem of your dress to hold it up, before you change your direction, ducking under heavy trunks of fallen trees before you jump over others too close to the ground, your goal in sight as you can head him almost growl under his breath as he encounters the many hurdles you’ve already gotten over.
With enough time to spare now, you start to climb the tree in front of you-
Only for his wrist to catch your ankle, delicate golden bell almost mocking you as it jingles, both of you panting as he grins up from his spot on the ground. His black hair is wild and curled at the ends, his eyes piercing with excitement as he slowly catches his breath. You still at least move to sit on one of the thick branches able to easily support your weight, his hold on your leg still present, though it relaxes as you look at him. “Caught you.” He says happily, as if he’s just made his greatest achievement to this date and you smile.
He can’t quite grasp that he’s really got you now.
“You did.” You answer back, wind rustling the crowns full of leaves of the trees all around you both, music faint in the background. “What’re you gonna do now?” You ask him, and he chuckles, lip running over his bottom lip before he answers, stepping closer, making you shiver in anticipation.
“First, I’ll get my treasure down from that tree..” he starts, easily pulling you down just like he said- catching you, thankfully, as he holds you by your waist, eyes running over your body, finally able to have you up close like this. “…then, I’ll admire it..” he continues lowly, no need to put much volume into his voice as he does just what he says, one of his hands moving to run through your hair, exposing the side of your neck to him, a place still bare but soon to wear his mark of love.
“ ..and then?” You ask quietly, making his smile grow as he leans down close, breath hot against your skin.
“..and then I’ll claim it.” He says, lips faintly brushing against your ear.
And you smile, grin spreading, before you tilt your head.
"Good luck with that." You hum against his lips which are just a breath away- and his gaze widens just for a split second before you sneakily dash away from him and out of his grasp, running faster than before deeper into the surrounding woods. You're really not making it easy for him at all.
And he loves it, muscles aching to get a final grasp on you now.
You're going to be his.
He can see you in the distance getting closer, no match for his stamina at the end of the day as he slowly catches up with you. He's got to give you that- you're not stupid at all, instincts clearly sharp and working well. Instead of trying to outrun him, you constantly twist and turn, trying to confuse him instead. But it doesn't work this easily on him.
Especially because he knows that you're having just as much.. fun as he does.
He can smell you.
He's already won. You just want to see if he truly wants to earn his spot at your side it seems like. And he does- he wants to prove his worth in more ways than just this. What you don't know, is that he's not just running after you- he's not hunting you anymore, but more so herding you into the direction he so wants you to run towards.
And just like sheep, you run right where he wants you to.
It's a split second where he can see you trip, almost falling, if not for his hand reaching out to grab the back of your white dress to yank you backwards into his chest where he holds you. You're both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling at a rapid pace, before he finally gets out a question.
"You okay?" He asks, and you nod, reassuring him quietly. "Looks like I caught you again." He chuckles, and you laugh too, still out of breath.
"Pure luck." You hum out, before you lean into him-
giving up.
giving yourself to him.
"I can give you a third chance." He offers teasingly almost, though he does mean it. You shake your head however, denying it. You don't actually want to run from him anymore.
You're fine with staying at his side.
"No." You hum, leaning your head back into his body. "You caught me." You admit, breathing finally evening out, and he smiles down at you, before he turns you around, and holds your face in his hands to finally kiss you- hungry and eager, after the chance had been taken away moments prior by you.
He's no longer wasting time.
You're not sure where he's walking you towards, his lips chasing away any coherent thought it feels like, but even if you could form a functioning thought right now, you wouldn't actually fight him at all.
"Jungk-" You gasp when his knee pushes between your legs, your back against a tree behind you while his hands waste no time to touch you. Currently occupied with feeling your chest through your dress, he's almost growling into your mouth as he grabs at your flesh, all while he steals your breath, lips working tirelessly against your own.
There's nothing that's holding him back any longer. He doesn't need to restrain himself.
"I told you how it's gonna go, didn't I?" He says, finally giving you some chance to breath, while he lifts his leg a little, pushing further into you. "I caught you.." He hums against your lips, slipping out of his jacket to move a bit more freely, hands gripping the hem of your dress to push it up so his palms can explore what skin you're hiding beneath. "Now I'm gonna make you mine." He grins down at you.
"Right here?" You ask, but he knows from the sight of your eager hips alone that you're not against the idea at all.
"Right here.." he agrees therefore, leaning down to kiss you feverishly, hands unable to keep still as they explore your body, anklet around your foot jingling every now and then with every movement you make. You could've taken it off at any point-
But you didn't. You accept him. You want him. And it only fuels his need for you.
"Jungkook please-" you beg, raising your hips to try and reach him. He knows what you want, what you crave.
"Hm?" He asks, biting at your neck before he kisses the marks soothingly. "You sound so sweet." He comments with amusement, while you grip his wrists, needing to hold onto something. He's not marked you up yet- and you wonder why not. He's got the chance now. You want him too. You want him to claim you, just like he said.
His hand between your legs is feeling you up, exploring, trying to prepare you for what's possibly to come. Maybe even just checking if you're getting ready yourself.
And what he finds gives him his definite answer.
"You were made for me, weren't you?" He coos at you, a smile on his lips as he watches you squirm, before he moves his hands, gripping the sides of your underwear, the sound of fabric ripping cutting through the silent woods around you. It happens twice- and then the fabric is gone, a cool gust of wind leaving you shivering for a second, wet skin exposed to the elements while he sneaks your ripped underwear into the pocket of his pants. It's an action you don't notice-
and it doesn't matter anyways, as his fingers enter you, exploring what makes you squirm and what makes your breath hitch.
You're clinging onto him, and he loves the feeling of your fingers on his skin, desperation making you uncaring of how you might come off as towards him. He wants you just like this- raw, unfiltered, wild. After all, there's dragonblood running in both of your veins. Flames burn under your skin, never to be tamed, only ever bowing to the one you'll call your mate.
And he knows he'll bow to you if you just say so, no shame in the thought at all.
He's yours.
He honestly had given up on the thought of ever really getting together with another dragonkin, considering his lack of interest, and the small amount of female dragons still participating in festivities like these. He knows that it's a complicated issue where no one's really truly entirely at fault- but having you in his hands like this makes him hopeful that maybe not all is lost yet. There's still chances for dragons to find and love each other-
You're both a prime example.
You're awfully fidgety now, clearly trying to get him to get you off- but he just chuckles. "No." He suddenly says, and you look at him, confused before you can hear his belt buckle, jeans falling down to his knees, his length already way beyond ready. He's impressive, just like any dragonkin- the distinctive shape of his cock reminding you of what will happen if he goes in raw like this.
And apparently, that's exactly what he wants to do, as he adjusts your hands on his shoulders, eyes sharp and filled to the brim with nothing but lust.
"Hold onto me, my love." He growls out to you, before he holds underneath your thighs, resting your back against the bark of the tree behind you, needing some sort of help to guide the tip of his leaking length towards your equally sodden entrance, before he lets your body lean down onto it, filling you up.
You're instantly clenching around him, feeling like you've finally been made whole.
You're clinging onto him, arms around his neck, before he adjusts the placement of his hands, now on your ass as he helps you move, skin slapping against skin while you whimper into his neck, your kisses on the skin shaky, as you try and keep yourself from biting him. Your head is dizzy, barely able to think much more than about him, his scent, his hands on you, his body so close, his mouth even closer as he breathes down your neck, his cock balls deep inside you.
You're sure you've by now stained even his skin in your arousal. You must be- because the smell of sex is all around you both.
He slows down for a moment, before he takes a few steps, leaning down on his knees before your back is placed on something..
soft?
You're a little curious where you are, but he gives you no chance to really take a look around, when he pushes himself back into you, hands pushing your dress out of the way, before he grips at the neckline of it, fabric loudly protesting against the way he pulls on it to expose your naked chest to him. He's ruining your clothes-
and you couldn't care less, as you feel him thrust inside you again, his pace now much more controlled, much more calculated. The grip he has on your wrists will surely leave them red for a while, and you want all of his marks he's willing to give you.
"Jungkook-" you whine, breathing heavily, back arching and hips squirming as you reach your peak. "-please-" You beg, and he knows exactly what you want.
"You want my mark?" He asks, and you nod, wrists wiggling around to instead move, holding his hands, interlocking your fingers. "You want to be mine?" He asks, and you yet again agree, feeling him stutter in his pace as well.
And then he leans down, hands on your back picking you up, position changing yet again as he pulls you close by your ass, helping you in your hips moving, obscene sounds coming from the both of you while he pushes your hair out of the way, kissing up the path to your neck where he decides for the best spot to place his bond.
And as he bites down, he feels something he didn't quite expect-
You doing just the same to him.
It catches him off guard so much, that he instantly reaches his own orgasm, length swelling inside you to keep him locked in place as his cock spurts into you, coating your insides in his clear cum. He doesn't have to worry about accidentally knocking you up- after all, that's another part of his dragonblood, something to differentiate him from regular humans. The first time with his mate, he's only claiming you- mixing up your scents, creating an entirely new one, bonding himself to you for the rest of your lifes.
And he knew you willingly gave yourself to him at the end of this hunt- but to have you claim him too, definitely gives him a boost of confidence in your now shared future together.
You're both breathing heavily, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm that's still drumming through you, as you hold onto him for dear life. Only now do you finally have time to look around a little, noticing the numerous blankets you're both sitting on, and only now do you realize just how much more thought he'd put into all of this than you originally thought he would.
He really isn't at all what you thought he'd be, as a dragonkin.
And it's the last thing, the last proof you need to finally let yourself be held by him, his hands running over your exposed skin as if to make sure you stay warm as the wind rushes softly through the crowns of the trees around you, while he nuzzles the spot of your mark on your neck, occasional kisses placed as if they could help it heal faster. He's probably all foggy inside his head, and you don't mind letting yourself feel the emotions as well-
shutting your brain off, as you lean into his chest, arms around him holding him tightly, while his chest rumbles with the purrs of pleasure and happiness.
You're finally his.
And he'll always be yours.
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edwinisms · 2 months
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i get such a sense of primal envy when looking at edwin’s clothes up close because god you can just tell his coat is real wool and made to last and not cheap flimsy mass produced garbage and auggagghhhh that was just STANDARD in his time. by no means am i saying i was #borninthewronggeneration because i like having vaccines and household appliances but. man. to have a personally-tailored coat like that that’d last for years and years……. and fabrics of fine thread-dense quality………. if only
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hushhushchild · 2 months
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Some various concepts of gender neutral monsterfucking, to get those juices flowing. I hope you enjoy, lovelies. Your werewolf boyfriend, who normally is the smaller of the two. Outside of that one special night a month, he's demure and sweet and loving. Everyone who knows you think he's the on the receiving end of his larger partner, but every full moon, he awakens a primal lust and a larger stature to match. Luckily, nobody's noticed the bite marks or limping the day after. Getting subtly drunk on pheromones every time your blind date shifts his spot. At first, he seemed plain weird, and you might pretend to go to the bathroom and call an Uber. When you return, you can't help a placid, dumb smile from melting onto your features. He's sleazy, yet in a charming way. Before long, you're enraptured in his every word, leaning your head into his neck to get an even more potent dose of his sweet musk. You hardly complain when he guides you to the bench seat of his truck. It's far too late to pull back now... especially when he reveals his rock-hard, leaking cock. Its taste is even more potent than his musk. You find yourself bobbing your head frantically on his shaft as he grips your hair. Please, please, please, your body screams. Desperate. Your eyes don't even seem to register when his true form reveals itself, to be that of a fae prince. Nor do you seem to mind.
Househunting is a chore, especially on a collegiate budget. When you find a standalone, multi-floor house for the price of a cheap condo, you don't think twice about the warning the realtor gave you. The last owner left within two months, citing paranormal nonsense. It's a steal, poltergeist be damned. Naturally (or supernaturally), your things wind up places you could've sworn you never touched. It slowly worsens over the first week or two - ghostly whispers and floral scents - until you finally give in. "What do you want?" You cry out to the house. It responds. Your dildo, thought to have been lost in the move, seems to have reappeared on your newly made sheets. Do with it what you will...
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bratphilia · 11 months
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teacher (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Can you plz plz write a smut where Mike takes readers virginity and they are kind of innocent"
note: sorry if this was a lil shorter than you were hoping. i left some breathing room at the end for a potential second part
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: fingering, missionary, virgin!reader, soft dom!mike
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"this is your clit," mike says, pressing on the sensitive area.
your hips jolt. "o-okay," you whine, struggling in his grasp.
abby is at vanessa's house to be babysat so you and mike are left alone at his place. mike has you resting half way on top of him with one hand on your leg to remind you to keep them spread for him. you decided that today's the day you want to go all the way with him, much to his concern to your change of heart. however, you managed to convince him that you were ready. 
the truth is, mike's been wanting this for awhile. he just finds your innocence so cute! the way you're a bit of a prude, blushing and shying away from anything related to sex. he finds it adorable. he finds youadorable.
he slowly moves the finger resting on your clit down south until it prods at your hole. he kisses your forehead and then your cheek as if to prepare you for what comes next. 
"ooh," you exhale shakily. it's an admittedly discomforting stretch, but thankfully he eases you into it gently. he's such a caring boyfriend. 
once the finger is inside, he curls it, earning a sharp "ah!" from you. 
"...and this is your g-spot."
"th-that feels nice, mikey," you say, reaching a hand to grasp his t-shirt while he curls and uncurls his finger. 
"yeah?" he mumbles, slightly mocking your voice. 
mike pumps his finger a little faster and reaches another hand to rub slow circles around your clit. you grasp onto his arm and whimper. 
"m-mike — mike! — i feel weird..." you cry.
instead of slowing down, he actually goes a little faster. your slick provides for a perfect lube to do so. "shh, it's okay. just let it go, okay?"
he presses the hand rubbing on your clit on your tummy, gently pressing down. the heat in your stomach grows until you feel some sort of release and a pulsing in your pussy. you moan loudly when he kisses you. 
you feel yourself dripping onto his finger and your face burns. "'m sorry." 
he gives you a lopsided grin. "what are you sorry for?"
you shake your head and he begins to unbuckle his belt and discard his pants and boxers. you tug on his shirt for him to take it off and he does so, pecking your lips before and after. 
"still good to continue?" he checks. god, he's so good to you. 
you nod and he slides on top of you. his dick prods at your entrance. "i'm going to go slow, okay? it's gonna hurt at first but that's just you adjusting."
"and we can stop at anytime, right?" you ask.
"of course."
he pushes in slow as he promised. you let out a flurry of 'ah's as the burning sensation of your walls stretching hits you overwhelmingly. fuck, you're so tight. he was expecting you to be — you were tight when he put his finger in — but he doesn't feel confident he can really move inside of you that much. 
he's buried about halfway inside and waits for your call to move. "you're — ugh — so fucking tight," he can't help but comment.
"is — is that a good thing?" you wonder out loud.
"very," he says with a pained chuckle. 
you take a deep breath after a few moments. "'m ready." 
mike begins to thrust slowly and cautiously. his cock drags against your walls pleasurably enough for the both of you. the noises your making, squeals, whines, and cries, makes him want to go faster and illicit more, but being careful with you is far more important than his primal needs.
he recalls your reactions to the way he talked to you, so he leans down to whisper in your ear. "you like that, baby? like feeling me inside you?"
"yes," you moan. 
his shallow thrusts are still enough to make the cheap bed creak and rock. "fuckin' god, babe, you feel so good wrapped around me."
"baby," you cry. "can you go a little faster? i can — ah! — take it." 
"yeah? does my baby want it faster?" he mocks you as he picks up the pace ever so slightly.
"mikey!" you cry from the stimulation.
"gettin' close, baby?" he asks.
"mmm! i think so..."
like before when you were close — and he can tell you are by the way you're spasming around him — he brings his hand to your clit and rubs from side to side. you grip desperately onto him as you feel the same way you did before: the tension in your stomach growing like a dam about to break loose. 
"ah! ah!" you moan and spill over the edge. 
mike holds off from coming himself, for now and pulls out. this was about you, not him. besides, he'll teach you how to use his mouth on him some other time anyway.
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