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mrwavellswaps · 4 months

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Step-Bro Switch Up! (Re-Upload)

Instead of a new story this week I’ve decided to re-upload an old favourite instead. As some of you may or may not know, the original version was completely wiped from the surface of the internet by Tumblr to the point where there wasn’t even a trace of its existence. I wasn’t even notified of this when it happened which feels like it’s own separate issue considering it was my biggest ever story but I digress. I thought that now might be the appropriate time to re-unleash this story upon the world and allow those who loved the original to enjoy it once again and for those who never got a chance to read the original to discover it for the first time. That said I’m hoping to come out with some new and fresh content very soon but in the meantime I hope you all enjoy this return of an old classic!

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I found myself waking up at 6:30am in the morning which was rather unusual for me but not so much for my body. I soon realised why though as a low rumble came from my stomach. With a sigh I slid out of bed, trying not to wake the other sleeping jock beside me in the process. I didn’t even bother putting on underwear, instead walking to the kitchen buck naked.

I waltzed up to the fridge, opening it up before pulling out a carton of juice. After taking a few huge gulps I lick my lips and let out a deep belch. Next thing I’m rummaging through to see what I can make for breakfast. Had to make sure I kept this big body fed after all. Can’t let all my step-brother’s hard work go to waste. Confused? Well let me start at the beginning…

———

A few years back not long after I turned 20 my mom met a guy named Devin who she soon started dating. Pretty big guy with a bearish ex-jock physique. He was 45 at the time so a similar age to my mom and they seemed to get along great. I certainly didn’t mind having some extra dilf eye candy around the house every now and then. I soon learned however that Devin was also a single Dad with a 22 year old son which certainly peaked my interest.

When I first met him I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. He introduced himself as Sam but I was almost too hypnotised by his looks to notice. He was the perfect image of a star college jock with enormous well rounded muscles that bulged under his clothes while standing at an imposing 6’3, practically dwarfing my lean 5’8 frame. And of course he was devilishly handsome too because the hot body wasn’t already enough, even having a great full beard that I was jealous of. I even remember how I had to hide my pulsing boner after he pulled me in for a quick bro hug, his manly scent getting caught in my nostrils.

After that Sam became a frequent part of my jerk off fantasies. Could you blame me? Not only was he the epitome of masculinity but my god did he have an incredible ass. Whenever Sam had his back turned I couldn’t help but have my eyes glued to those massive globes, no doubt stretching whatever pants he was wearing. Honestly I felt truly blessed to be able to spend time around such a man.

Anyway fast forward about two years and my mom had already gotten married to Devin. It was an amazing ceremony but for half of it all I could think about was how me and Sam were now Step-Brothers. We were truly intertwined now. I didn’t think the idea of that would turn me on as much as it did. That fucking hunk, my brother.

Shortly after the wedding however, the roommate Sam had been sharing an apartment with decided to move out and live with his new partner. At first Sam had been considering downsizing to a smaller apartment but when he brought this up I knew this was my chance. I pounced on the opportunity and told him I’d been thinking of moving out for awhile and that it’d be cool to spend some more time with my new brother if he was down for that. To my excitement he actually accepted and the next thing I know I’m moving my stuff out of my moms house and into Sam’s apartment. I was surprised at how clean it all was for the most part. Then again Sam wasn’t your typical dumb jock either, he always seemed very mature and put together.

The two of us got on pretty well living together. We tried to respect each other’s space and chatted a lot as good friends. Luckily I did well to hide my excitement whenever I saw him walking around shirtless, showing off his huge hairy chest, or god forbid only a pair of tight boxer briefs. The day I first saw that was the day I nearly creamed myself on the spot. Oh and while I respected his space when he was around, whenever I was home alone I couldn’t help but give into the devil on my shoulder before rummaging through his room. I tried not to take anything but every time without fail I’d sift through his dirty laundry, pulling out whatever sweaty clothes I could find and relishing in the smell.

For about 6 months that’s how my life was. Living under the same roof as my hot step-bro while trying not to let him see my dirty secret. That is until I found a certain little spell online. Pretty much I’d been searching up some fetishy body swapping stuff online and ended up stumbling across some weird body swapping ritual. Of course I didn’t believe it but the masses of comments on the page claiming it to have worked peaked my interest.

Next thing I know I’m up in the middle of the night waiting until I was certain that Sam was asleep before sneaking into his room. It didn’t take long for me to find the pair of yellow underwear he’d had on that day, giving it a quick sniff before stuffing it in my pocket and retreating back to my room. Once there I was able to start the ritual. I placed the underwear in the middle of a circle I’d drawn on the floor surrounded by candles before chanting some magical phrases that were supposed to enchant them. I can’t tell you how stupid I felt at that moment but I continued on anyway, finishing everything I needed to say before grabbing the underwear again. At that point all I had to do was wear it.

I yanked on Sam’s ‘enchanted’ yellow briefs with the hope that my wish would come true but as I’d expected, nothing happened. With a sigh I cleaned up the mess I’d made with this ritual stuff, feeling like an idiot as I did before heading to bed. I decided to keep Sam’s oversized briefs on though because just wearing them was making me hard even if I was still myself. I remember I’d begun to jack off in them, imagining how hot it’d be to see him wearing them after I’d stained them with my cum. That is until a wave of tiredness swelled across my body and before I knew it I was fast asleep.

It seems I must’ve underestimated that ritual because overnight something truly magical took place. When I awoke I already knew something was off when I noticed my feet hanging off the edge of my bed. I sat up in confusion only to feel much heavier than normal while looking down the bed to see a pair of much larger feet. Next thing I yank off my bed sheets only to find a massive, hairy, muscular body that certainly wasn’t my own.

Right away I was running my hands along the ridges of my abs before grasping the heft of my giant new pecs, loving all the fur as I was previously rather hairless. Jumping out of bed I was quick to discover that my lower body was just as hairy and impressive with huge quads, and impressive calves. And then it started to hit me. I didn’t realise it at first as I’d never seen it from this angle but these giant legs, these bulging arms, these bulbous pecs… they all seemed exactly like Sam’s! I was even still wearing his briefs which now clung tightly to my form as I didn’t fail to notice the familiar bulge in the front. Only… it was my bulge!

At that moment I knew what must’ve happened but my rational mind pleaded that it was impossible. Still I burst out of my room and made a beeline for the bathroom and what I saw in the mirror made me want to cheer, shout and most of all cream my new underwear. I saw none other than the sexy bearded face of my step-brother staring back in disbelief.

As you can imagine I spent the next 20 or so minutes inspecting every inch of my new muscle bound body. I did all sorts of poses to show off my physique in every way, pulled different kinds of weird faces in the mirror, relished in rubbing my hands through the full beard I was never able to grow before. Having the body I’d been lusting over for these past years at my disposal felt like some kind of lucid wet dream. But it was real! From my brother’s handsome face, to his giant muscle ass, to even his fat cock! All mine!

Soon enough I’d yanked off the underwear and started pumping my dick in ecstasy, loving how my hand only just fit the whole way around. Waves of pleasure cascading across my new body as I used my free hand to grope at my hairy pecs, the deep groans I let out only making me hornier. Before I could shoot my new seed however, I heard a scream come from what I can only guess was Sam’s room. Up until now I hadn’t even thought about the real him but judging by that scream I had only one guess as to what’d happened.

Instead of slipping the boxer briefs back on I decided to grab a towel instead and wrap it around my waist. I didn’t want him to think something was up to see me already wearing his clothes after all. With that I turned to the mirror one last time, scanning my face and upper body again with wonder. I still couldn’t get over it.

Upon entering Sam’s room I was somewhat surprised to see an exact copy of myself stood freaking out at his body. I should’ve been expecting it but it was still extremely weird nonetheless. Then, as he saw me stood in the doorway, he went silent. Naturally he was in shock for a good moment or two but as soon as it passed he began shouting a bunch obscenities at me. Demanding who the fuck I was and how I looked like him. He even tried to punch me which I’ll be honest wasn’t all that scary considering I was now twice his size.

Right then I knew I had a few ways I could go about this. I could admit that I caused this to happen, I could tell him that I had no clue how any of it happened, or even pretend to be completely oblivious and act as if I was really Sam. The horny devil on my shoulder told me to rub it in his face that I now had his irresistible jock body and that he was stuck with my unathletic one but I couldn’t. Sure we weren’t super close or anything but he was always friendly towards me and was never a dickhead so I decided to take it easy on him.

I pretended to be just as confused as he was, saying who I really was but not having any idea how this happened. I think I was pretty convincing. We ended up sitting in his room and discussing it for what felt like hours, going over everything that happened last night as Sam tried to comprehend the situation. Of course he only went on and on about finding a way to fix this and I had to pretend as if I cared, trying not to get distracted by my own body. In fact there were multiple points where I had to keep hiding the tent starting to grow under my towel because of how hot it was to look down and see a shelf of muscle sitting on my chest.

Eventually I was able to convince him that we weren’t going to figure this out any time soon so we had to start thinking about how we were going to live each overs lives. As you can imagine he wasn’t all that fond of this idea, protesting it at first but eventually came to see reason. I suggested we should start discussing all the important details we’d need to know but before that I wanted to get some actual clothes on. I had to try not to grin while telling him to get out of my room while I changed. Though I couldn’t help dropping the towel just before he left and showing off the meaty cock and impressive ass he used to have. I caught him glancing back with a look of envy, the very same look I used to give.

Of course getting dressed in Sam’s clothes was an erotic experience in itself. All of these large shirts, pants, briefs and socks that would’ve swamped my former body now fitting me perfectly. I must’ve spent at least 15 minutes or so just trying on different clothes while jerking my cock a little in between until I heard a knock at the door and my former voice asking what the hell was taking so long. With a sigh I tucked my new toy away and waltzed out in what I was currently wearing. A pair of well fitting black shorts and a large pair of black and white socks. I didn’t bother grabbing a shirt since I just couldn’t help but show off this bod. Could you blame me?

When he asked what I’d been doing I simply said I was trying on clothes. He knew there was more to it than that but decided he didn’t really wanna know. Instead we opted to both take a seat in the living room and start discussing things. I told him everything he needed to know about my retail job, which wasn’t a whole lot to be honest, as well as my friend group and what my daily routine was like. Afterwards Sam begrudgingly did the same for me, telling me all about his part time job as a fitness instructor at the local gym and that if we were stuck like this then I’m gonna need to learn how all gym equipment works and fast. He also gave me some inside info on his own friend group as well as walking me through what his football practice is like with the team. Part of me was worried hearing all this as I was beginning to wonder if I could really pull off being Sam but at the same time I was excited beyond belief to get into these social situations and convince people of the new me.

Thankfully it was Sunday so neither of us had a whole lot going on that day which gave us plenty of time to think and adjust without stressing. I spent most of it half naked and I loved catching glimpses of Sam glancing at his former body as I showed it off, even getting a little cocky by flexing every now and then which he didn’t appreciate all that much. Honestly I was surprised at how hungry I was as well and just how much I was able to eat. I mean I guess it made sense since a body this big needs a lot of fuel. Sam helped me a little with my meals though, making sure there was a bunch of protein and healthy calories to make sure I was feeding his body correctly. Later that day he also got me to head out for some cardio which I wasn’t too thrilled about at first but I actually kinda enjoyed it once I got running. I especially enjoyed my new sweaty scent that produced during it, not being able to help sniffing my pits when I got back. Of course Sam told me to go get a shower but before I did I couldn’t help swiftly grabbing him and shoving his face into my musky pits, laughing as he squirmed for a moment before letting him go. I apologised after through my laughter though I couldn’t help but smirk subtly as despite his face looking disgusted, the slight bulge in his pants told another story.

The next day however was when the real challenge started. After breakfast Sam gave me a list of what exercises to do at the gym. I’ll be honest I didn’t know half of them and had to look them up on the way. That walk to the gym however was the first time I noticed the difference in my interactions. Before people wouldn’t pay much mind to me but now as I passed people on the street I’d get some smiling and glancing at me, some giving me an envious once over, others even saying hi to me in a bit of a flirty way. Mostly from girls which even though I was gay I still enjoyed the flattery. Once I was at the gym though, I was in the zone. It’s weird but it was like muscle memory took over. I performed each and every exercise perfectly while loving the pump I was getting. Once again I was having to hide my boner at many points since I couldn’t help but get off to how fucking strong I was now. It did and still does feel absolutely incredible!

Later that day I headed to Sam’s usual football practice with a bunch of his jock friends. Initially I was worried I wouldn’t fit in but I somehow found myself easily slotting into the jockbro mindset and was soon laughing and joking with the boys. It was the same when we started playing, right away it was like my body just moved on its own, knowing exactly what to do and how to play. It was then that I realised I must’ve somehow absorbed a lot of Sam’s skill, know-how and personality when I took his form and I was gradually unlocking it all by putting myself in these situations. Although I don’t think I was playing as well as Sam usually does, not because of a lack of skill but because I was constantly distracted watching all those jock butt’s and bulges squeezed into those football uniforms. Surely at least one of them had to be gay right?

After getting home I found Sam sat on his laptop looking up all sorts of body swapping theory stuff. Of course most of it was fake but he was clearly desperate to get his body back. Sure there might be an off chance he could find the site I used but that a one way transfer according to the spell. Knowing this I told him to not get his hopes up and to just try and make use of the hands we’ve been dealt. As you can imagine he didn’t take that very well at the time.

From then onwards though, I’d say things were pretty easy. I easily convinced my new dad and former mom, now step-mom that I was their good ol hairy jock of a son. I was able to pull off being a fitness instructor with relative ease after going around the gym and using each piece of the equipment to trigger the memories of how to use it properly. I’d convinced all of Sam’s friends inside and outside of the football team that I was him. I’ll say that it took me awhile to fully get used to hearing my new name but whenever I did it was like music to my ears.

I’ve gotta say though, living with the former Sam was more fun than I thought it’d be. I figured it would’ve been weird initially after the switch and that we’d have to go our separate ways but even after just over a week of being Sam I was having so much fun messing with him. For example I almost never wore a shirt around the house, always showing of my huge hairy pecs and whenever I’d catching him staring I’d give a little pec bounce until he looked away in annoyance. I’d frequently pull him in for ‘brohugs’ where I’d either squish him against my chest or trap him under one of my pits until I saw him getting a semi. He’d alway deny having one though which is why I decided to set up a fun little experiment.

Turns out that Ian, one of the other jocks on the football team, was in-fact gay. Wasn’t hard to decipher after noticing his frequent glances at my ass in locker room, not that I can blame him, and how much he blushed when I gave his jock butt a slap after practice. Next thing you know we’re making out under the locker room showers while groping up each overs bodies. It was insane since before I would’ve considered Ian to be light years out of my league but now I had him on his knees with his lips wrapped around my shaft to which I then soon returned the favour. It was here that I got my experiment idea.

Yesterday after practice, I pulled Ian aside and asked him to come back to my place. He was quick to agree and before you know it we were stumbling into mine and Sam’s shared apartment. My former body jumped up off the couch and asked what Ian was doing here. ‘To have some fun’ I believe my response was being making out with Ian in front of him and dragging the other jock back towards Sam’s-well my bedroom. As Ian and I stumbled onto the bed, kissing along each overs bodies as we slowly undressed, I made sure to leave the door open just a crack.

One thing lead to another and before long Ian had his face buried into a pillow as I buried my cock in his ass and I made no attempt to be subtle about, groaning and grunting and my balls smacked against that supple butt. Throughout our amazing fuck session I made sure to keep glancing back at the door and finally I caught exactly what I was waiting for. I saw none other than Sam peeking through the crack in the door and lightly tugging at my former dick. That was all the confirmation I needed that my little bro was just as much of a homo as I was no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

———

And that more or less brings us up to the present, waking up early in the morning with Ian fast asleep beside me and being called into the kitchen by my growling stomach. As I searched through the fridge to see what else I could find to satisfy my hunger, I heard a cough coming from behind. Whipping my head around I saw none other than Sam with a judgmental look on his face.

“Don’t gimme that look, you’ve seen all this before.” I say, shaking my hairy ass a little before flexing. Sam rolled his eyes. “No no no don’t act like you don’t love seeing me show off your body, I saw you peeking in on me and Ian last night.”

Sam’s face went bright red. “W-w-what? N-no I didn’t!”

Immediately I shushed him, not wanting to wake Ian before stepping closer. “Oh come on don’t lie, I know you jacked off to it. So what was your favourite bit? The part when you got to see me using your body to pound into another buff dude and fill his ass with your cum? Or the part where you watched Ian totally dominate me afterwards and go to town on your former hairy bubble ass?” By this point Sam was completely speechless knowing that he’d been caught.

With that I lifted up an arm, exposing one of my pits to him but this time I didn’t shove him in it. “Go on, you know you want to. You can try and hide it all you want but you love seeing me show off your body, you love watching me adopt all your little habits, you love watching me slip perfectly into you jocky lifestyle. Just embrace it lil’ bro” He stares at me then at my pit. I could see it in his eyes. Pure lust. And then just as I’d hoped, he gave in to it. I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear as he voluntarily presses his nose into my pit, huffing my musk like a drug. I was even more surprised when he pulled away and immediately dropped to his knees, drooling at the sight of his former cock.

“C…can I suck it?” He asked while grasping it gently in his hand.

“Only if you agree to only address me as Sam from now on, even when we’re alone.” I state looking down at his hungry eyes. He nods in compliance and with that I put a hand on the back of his head and press him down onto my dick, letting him slobber all over it. “But don’t get too used to this. I’m planning on making Ian my boyfriend in the future and I wanna be faithful ya know. So enjoy it while it lasts.”

With that everything has finally fallen into place. The old Sam has finally accepted our new roles, I’ve assumed my new identity perfectly and I might even have a hot new boyfriend soon. My life couldn’t be anymore perfect right now…

#male body theft #male body swap #stepbro #step brothers #brothers #identity theft #male transformation #age progression #straight to gay #musclegrowth #muscle theft #male muscle growth #hairy #jock #magic #permanent

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 8 months

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DPXDC prompt ~ Honor to Us All ~ Gotham as one true the most haunted city edition

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Instead of a welcoming banner in front of a city was an old column, so familiar to a boy, with a warning inscription:

"To outsiders mad enough to attack Gotham: You will be forced to understand that dead soldiers will also go into battle. And having risen to protect, they will be ready to perish all again, So no one of the living would die near them."

Danny smiled with love. 'I’m home, Mother.' Ghost whispered into the void. And Gotham answered.

~~~~

Danny: My Lady, I brought you the crown of Pariah Dark. And The Ring of Rage. They’re gifts to honor the Gotham family. Lady Gotham: The greatest gift and honor is having you on my side, child.

~~~~~

Danny Fenton was born in Gotham and lived here until his parents decided to move. The city didn’t accept them.

'When I die, I want to be one of the Gotham Knights.' Little Danny with pride and eagerly reported to his parents after visiting the Battle Glory of Gotham Museum on a school trip. This evening, Danny learned that not all his plans should be told to his parents.

Danny know his parents are crazy about ghosts. and that all ghosts are "bad". But obviously, the ghosts they talk about, and his, or rather Gotham's, ghosts are completely different creatures. The spirits of the defenders are those who, even in the darkest of times, make the shadows of the Gotham a protection to the citizens.

But that knowledge is his little secret for now. Because if he starts arguing he’ll be punished and he won’t be able to run off to the roof where he’s arranged to meet Robin. Robin’s cool! He works with one of the 'still-living' knights. And he knows more about the city than anyone. Danny doesn’t want to offend his friend.

~~~~~

Mr Lancer doesn’t understand why the lecturer about ghosts, Constantine, after seeing Danny, said something about the bloody gothamites and their inability to stay underground. It wasn’t nice at all. Mr Lancer doesn’t blame Mr Fenton for smiling at the man a little aggressive and viciously. Poor boy probably didn’t know how to respond to his behavior. Danny moved to Amity Park a long time ago and did not stand out at all. So what was this man’s problem?

Danny only half dies because Lady Gotham blessed him when he was a child. So when Danny sees snow-white hair and glowing green eyes in the mirror, he is not frightened but surprised that the Lady protected him even though he is not living in Gotham now.

~~~~~

Danny knows gothamites don’t consider that Gotham is a part of the USA. Even their Metropolis neighbors are just pathetic cowards, unable to withstand the hardships of life. No, really. Why the hell would they be patriots of the country that thinks they’re its dirty secret? This opinion is shared by old ones and children, rich ones and residents of Crime Alley, heroes and villains.

Danny loves Gotham. And he likes local jokes about how if one of their supervillains ever took power enough to threaten the government, he would be obliged to release them from that citizenship. Otherwise, he would be shamed and ridiculed by the inhabitants.

Phantom is not a villain. But for Gotham? For their common purpose? He is ready to pretend to be.

~ A ghost can bring his city ~ Great honor in one way ~

Gothamites remember that the child of mad scientists was the only person Boy Wonder was willing to call a friend. They remember how boys' laughter was heard from rooftops and from alleys on particularly dark nights. And they know whose restless spirit has returned to mourn the death of the second Robin.

The boy’s parents must be fools. Many outsiders are. They call their blessing a curse. People die in Gotham. And not all of them come back. Residents know that these ones are chosen by Lady Gotham herself.

The public enemy of Amity Park number 1? What nonsense. He is not theirs anything! In Gotham they will accept the Phantom as a guard, as a silent shadow, as a villain or a hero. In any kind. Because he belongs here. He should be part of their dance between life and death. He should be amidst dark alleys and acid rains, gliding between fear and laughter in the air.

Even local villains experience strange yearning. Like something’s wrong. Like a piece of a puzzle that’s lost. Therefore, the local abandoned observatory is empty, and none of them is in a hurry to call it their territory. Because it will be in demand, it will be loved and needed. It’s only a matter of time.

Let the spirit of Gotham guide you home, child. Dead gothamite is still gothamite. Which means there will always be a place for you.

~~~~~

When Danny first enters his favorite cafe in his Phantom form and with a wound on his leg, he doesn’t expect a cleaning lady to yell at him immediately for the blood on the floor. With a mop in his hands and with already bandaged leg, Danny feels as if all his worries had gone. They are not afraid of him. Of course. No one in Gotham would avoid him because of glowing eyes and sharp teeth. And that’s nice.

The waitress throws a tray of food on a table next to him: Welcome dinner for the wandering son of the alley. Red Hood said it's your usual order. He’ll be waiting for you on the gargoyle. You should know which one.

~~~~

If parents listened to his childhood stories about good ghosts, they would know that the Phantom is not special. He is not an anomaly of ghost nature and not a mistake. He is one of many who always were and will be defenders of the city. Danny stands in front of the costume that he admired years ago. He's ready to take another shift at work. The remains of his colleagues can rest quietly this night. Lady will wake them only when in dire need.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc memes #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp crossover

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jazzyoranges · 3 months

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Pinky Promise - drabble

Tara Carpenter x gn!reader

Summary: cuddly Tara strikes again

Words: 0.9k

A/n: very much inspired by this fic, please go read it i beg you

This was your worst fucking nightmare. Well, something close to this.

You’d expect maybe Anika or Mindy to set you up for failure, but your own mother? You were her kin, for christ’s sake!

Not to mention the woman knew what she was doing. Once she pulled the “Oh, it seems there isn’t enough beds for all your friends! My, I must’ve counted wrong!” You knew it was over from the start.

Mindy and Anika shared a bed, Chad and Ethan shared an air bed, leaving Tara to sleep on the couch. Which, you offered Tara to sleep in your room while you slept on the couch, but god did she make it fucking hard. The brunette insisted you sleep on your bed since you were the one driving most of the time during the road trip, but unfortunately your urge for hospitality rivaled her

You argued Tara looked far sleepier, and you thought it was settled when she didn’t respond

You were pretty fucking wrong.

When the time came and you eventually left your bathroom to go to the living room, you don’t expect to see a Tara in a band tee that was about two sizes too big on her, Hello Kitty shorts that barely poked out of her large shirt, and a bunny stuffed animal you gave her not too long ago

She grabbed your hand before you knew what was happening, and pulled you into your room. Half of the reason why you didn’t want to sleep in there was because of how you could distinctly tell your teenage self wore too much eye makeup and chains. The thought makes you cringe, and Tara only laughed at your expression

“Let’s go to bed, please?” You should’ve fucking said no. But how were you supposed to? Tara was looking up at you with her big brown eyes, a shirt that was probably yours, and a sad expression. You couldn’t have said no if you tried.

So here you were, looking at the ceiling in a small bed with Tara’s back touching your arm. A blanket covered her entire body while it only covered your midsection with your hands fidgeting on top of it

You feel the younger Carpenter shiver due to your close proximity, and you realize it’s actually cold in the house. Well, you were awake and you did live here, so it was probably your responsibility to make sure everyone was comfortable. If Tara was cold, everyone else probably was too

It takes a little maneuvering to get up with as little squeaks as possible, but you’re eventually successful. You think so, until you feel something around your wrist

“Don’t sleep on the couch…” You hear Tara mumble half asleep

“You were shivering, I’m changing the temperature” You whisper back, leaning towards her as she huffs

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Your forehead wrinkles as you think, but you eventually have an idea

“I pinky promise” You stick out the small digit of your hand, and Tara eventually meets you halfway. When she lets go you assume she approves of your leave

The journey to the thermostat isn’t a very long one and you’re back in about a minute, the only challenge being not running up the stairs because you’re afraid of the dark

Tara acts like you’ve been away for years when you come back. Once you’re in arm distance, she pulls you down very quickly

“S’not enough, still cold” Tara mumbles into your chest as she crawls on top of you like it’s nobody’s business. Her arms trap you on both sides after she pulls the blanket over you both. You can tell she’s warm when she sighs and makes sure you know how comfortable you are

“You’re like a teddy bear… my teddy bear” You don’t know how to respond, but Tara obviously does

“I can’t believe you got up for nothing”

“The others might’ve been cold, you know”

“The others can fuck off” Tara yelps when you pinch her nose

“Don’t be mean”

“Mmm… whatever” The brunette sighs again, who’s now in a position with you that resembles a cheetah and their support dog

Now this was your worst fucking nightmare.

Tara, god bless bless her, was a light sleeper. If you moved an inch she’d feel it but now that she was on top of you, you were really fucked

“You’re tense”

“Go to sleep” You whisper

“Pillows are supposed to be soft, not hard” She whispers back, looking directly into your eyes

“Last time I checked, people aren’t supposed to be pillows” Tara snickers at your dumb joke and you resist the urge to poke at her dimples

“Now you’ve got me all awake”

“Be so for real, you’d fall asleep instantly if I stopped talking to you”

“Yeah, you’re right. I would” The brunette rubs her cheek against your shirt, almost like she’s trying to burrow into your chest. A few moments pass, and you’re finally feeling the effects of driving for most of the day. You can feel your body relax more every second

“I love you” Tara whispers so quietly you don’t know if you’re hearing her correctly. You fall asleep before you figure it out

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #jenna marie ortega #ethan landry #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko

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lure-of-writing · 17 days

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His little sister

Summary: Azriel point of view of the things you do as Rhysands little sister (This should be read only after reading all in a days work and knock before you enter otherwise it probably won't make any sense as you need the know what happened in the other two for this to make sense )

word count: 2.5 k

Note: Hello! For a while I was stumped on how to continue the little sister series so boom! I present to you Azriel's pov. I would love to hear what you guys think about having things from this perspective also! please don't be shy and let me know!

The playful touches and not so subtle glances across the room paired with the seductive bit of your lip as it lifts into a forbidden smile is not lost upon the spymaster of the night court. In fact everything you did never went unnoticed by him. As Rhysands little sister he was more or less forbidden from having any relationship with you that was purely platonic or sibling-like. Much to the high lord's irritation, once you learned of the rules set in place for the general and the shadow singer, you had made it your own personal mission to see just how much you could get away with. Just how far could you bend the rules before your older brother snapped?

Azriel was well aware of the game you played in hopes of causing your brother a small amount of distress. Unfortunately for him, he respected his high lord and his wishes to much to counter your advances with some of his own but that doesn’t mean he can’t help you accomplish your lifes works of making your brother rub his temples with a long sigh and a shot of whiskey or which ever bottle of alcohol appeared before him first.

It had been just a few short weeks after your fifteenth birthday when you had learned about the guidelines Rhys had set for the two other males in your family. Being told what to do never sat well with you, neither did being told who you can and can’t do things with. At first your reaction was to find your brother and argue with him until he couldn’t think straight but when you were on the way to his office you bumped into your favorite member of the bat boys. Azriel was leaning against the wall of Rhysands office waiting for his meeting with Helion when you were stuck with a brilliant idea. “Az?” his hazel eyes shifted from the dark oak doors to where you stood in the middle of the hall. “Yes?” as soon as the word had left his mouth he knew you were up to something. It was the way your eyes lit up in excitement and you shuffled over to him with hurried steps. Huddled close to his body you beaconed him to lean down so you could whisper in his ears. Wordlessly he follows your commands. “Would you like to help me make Rhys question why he was blessed with being my brother?”

The sly smile and trouble that brewed in your eyes was enough to get him to say yes. Not like he could ever say no to you in the first place but that wasn’t important. From that moment on he would allow you to flirt with him and crawl into his lap with no rejection. This drove Rhysand up a wall. He said that they could not try to flirt with you but you never said anything about it being the other way around and you had taken full advantage of that each and every single time the opportunity presented itself.

Family dinners amongst the inner circle were never an uncommon thing but since everything that transpired over the last fifty something years had the family dinners becoming a more common tradition. After dinner talks and catching up had been moved to the living room. Silently Azriel sat by himself, listening to his family talk. Perfectly content with listening rather than speaking. While Cassian went on this third rant about why he was certain that he could fight Bryaxis, if and big if here, they weren’t so scary looking, when you had gotten up from where you were sat next to Mor on the floor. He watched as you left the room and not even a second later his shadows informed him that you were getting another wine.

His attention shifted from his brother onto you when you had reentered the room with a glass full of wine and strutted over to him and made yourself comfortable in his lap. Az would never admit it but the feeling of your arm draped over his shoulder and playing with his hair was one of his favorite feelings in the world. As your body leaned into his, the temperate difference between the two of you became very apparent to the shadowsinger. Without thinking he placed his much warmer hand on your freezing and goosebump covered leg to help warm you back up. The slit in your dress had done nothing to help keep you warm.

Without saying anything he watched as his brother marched his way over to where you had chosen to sit, also known as Azriels lap. He watched as Rhys reached his hand out in hopes of pulling you off of closest friend and he watched as Rhysands face morphed into one of confusion to anger as Azriels wings furled around you to keep your brother from grabbing you from him. If there was one thing that the shadowsinger knew with one hundred percent certainty, it was that you could handle yourself. The context didn’t matter, you could always handle yourself. So while you and your brother went back and front he mindlessly began to rub comforting circles where his hand had found purchase on your leg. And once Rhysand had made his way back to his mate, he had leaned down and pressed his lips against your hairline. “You are a menace” giggling you smile up at him before shrugging and taking a sip of your forgotten wine.

Visiting the court of nightmares was never something that brought Azriel much joy. More often than not he was watching for any threats against his high lord's life, now he had to worry about his high lady also. It wasn’t as if Azriel wasn’t capable of handling such a task but when you had revealed that you would also be in attendance, it brought Azriel another level of stress. He knew that you could handle the court politics and the volleyball of words sent back and forth with hidden messages. Hell you had even been trained by all three males and Morrgian. You were more than capable of looking out for yourself but there has always been a part of Azriel that couldn’t rest when he knew you could be in danger at any moment.

Now the notoriously quiet male, while known for not saying much, always had something to say when it came to you. There was no comment too small that you made that didn’t get an answer from Az in return. As you finally made your way down the staircase to your awaiting family Azriel had just about a thousand thoughts and compliments he could give you at any moment. While your brother had a meltdown in the background all Azriel could focus on was you and as you made your way down the last few steps he reached his hand out helping you the rest of the way down. Shamelessly he looked you up and down not caring that your brother just might beat his ass for looking at you in such an outfit. Once his eyes reached your, you sent him a wink and beaming smile. Az could tell that you had wanted to ask him what he thought of your clothing choices but decided that dealing with your brother would be the best idea before he dragged you back up the stairs himself and forced you to change.

While at the place of nightmares the shadows that sung to Azriel hung close to his body, only leaving to secretly watch over you and make sure you were ok. For most of the night all was well, at least as well as things can get in the court of nightmares. That was until his shadow came back to inform their master of the predicament that had presented itself to you. He watched from afar as you pushed your way out of the crowd and towards himself. Pushing off of the pillar he was once perched against he made his way towards you. Az’s blood began to boil when he watched the random fae male wrap his arms around your waist and pulled your body into his. In two long strides he was in front of the strange male and yourself, demanding he release his grip on you or he would do it for him. There wasn’t a part of Azriel that enjoyed the violence he brings upon those he was tasked with gathering information from but holding truth teller to the male's neck did in fact bring him joy.

Upon your release he guided you back to where he was previously standing to make sure you were ok and that the random male didn’t inflict any harm to you. After his thorough evaluation of your body met his standards he returned his gaze to meet your and suddenly your cold hand was pressed against his warm cheek and the burn of the two temperatures had never felt so nice before. Once again your hand had found its resting place in his hair and your lips on his and Azriel swore hes never felt something as soft as your lips on his. As soon as your lips had met his, Az knew he was in for a whole world of pain when Rhysand got his hands on him but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Az recently pulled away when he felt the anger of his high lord coming at him with the purpose of making him bow to the power radiating off of Rhysand. “We should probably get out of here before he kills you.” looking down he saw the mischief twinkling in your eyes and he positive nobody can pull off that look quite like you can. The wink you sent over your shoulder as you grab his hand pulls him out of the trance you had put him in. Willingly Azriel followed your lead out of the ball room while you bumped into his arm periodically. “Honestly he just might kill us both.” he felt you mumble into his shoulder as you hid your face and laughter in his body. Chuckling he couldn’t help but agree before winnowing you back to the house of wind.

After Rhyand had actually considered beating the shadowsinger to a pulp your usual antics had dwindled in frequency which saddened Azriel more than he was willing to admit. During training you kept clear of him in case your brother didn’t approve of you even looking in his general direction and it had been almost two weeks since he had last talked to you for more then five minutes and honestly it was starting to drive him crazy. After a family dinner consisting of you, Nesta, Cassiand and himself he finally approached you. “You're going to the Summer court tomorrow right?” As the resident know-it-all he already knew your answer but he waited nonetheless “Yes?” Azriel watches as you place your book in your lap to give him your full attention and he swears he could bask in it forever. “I’m not doing anything for the next week, would you like me to go with you?” The beaming smile you sent him was confirmation enough.

That's how he found himself in your room the next morning helping you get ready. You had asked his opinion on basically every piece of your outfit and Azriel had never been so happy to assist someone put together their clothes for the day. After you had pulled all the needed pieces of clothing from your closest you held up the corset you picked for him to see. “I’ll need your help putting this on.” And that's how once again Azriel feared Rhys would consider pummeling him once more.

Not once during Rhysands withering glare did Azriel stop pulling the strings of your corset until they were tight enough and only then did he gently pull the strings into a bow before removing his hands from your body. After finishing his assigned task Az thought it was best to leave the siblings to deal with each other and he would wait for you on the rooftop to begin your journey to the summer court. Only after he could assume was a long lecture from your older brother on being safe did the two of you join him on the roof. “I swear if a single hair on her head is out of place I will kill you.” As much as Azriel wanted to laugh at the worn out sound of his friend he simply nodded his head before acknowledging what he said.

The week in the summer court with you felt more like two days. Any time with you never felt like enough. On the way back Rhysand had talked to him and you that he wanted a debrief before you did anything upon your return. Gently he set you back on the ground once he had landed in front of the river house and he already missed the feeling of your body on his. He really wished and in that moment that he never agreed to those rules Rhysand had set for him and Cassian all those hundred of years ago.

The silence that engulfed the room would make anyone who didn’t know the two males squirm from how uncomfortable it was, but these two males had dealt with much more stressful problems and had sat in more silence than the average people did. Azriel knew that lately your antic had been pushing the line but he had never stopped you nor had he ever thought too. Mainly because he didn’t want you too but also in fear that if he asked you to stop you would never come to him again. “Truly Rhys there is nothing going on between me and your sister. You and I both know she only does this to get under your skin and she does that very well. As long as it bothers you then she will keep doing it. You know this.”

After a long and much needed talk Azriel made his way to the stand outside of the river house collecting a much needed breath of fresh air while he came to terms with his conversation with his oldest friend. A few moments pass before you come waltzing out of the house as if you had accomplished some great mission. “Maybe next time he’ll knock” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about and couldn’t help but laugh at what you said. He didn’t need to ask you what you did as the one shadow that always kept you company told him all about what you had just done to your brother and his poor unsuspecting mate. Without another word Azriel scooped you into his arm while pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. Gods he wished this wouldn’t be the last time he felt your skin against his lips.

Rhysand had asked him to put a stop to your behavior towards him. Not that you made the shadowsinger uncomfortable, gods no, you could never do that. It was just you were your brother's pride and joy and he refused to let the males he considered his brothers to be the reason your heart broke. Rhysand would never be able to forgive or look at Azriel the same and he knew that. Azriel just wished the golden string tying the two of you together didn’t have to be hidden from everyone including you.

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #rhysand x sister!reader

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darqx · 21 days

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Snakes on a post

Another particularly long answer dump since i, once again, have a backlog of things to potentially answer |D

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

Got jumpscared with my own old art for a hot minute there LAUGHS.

(For those wondering, the naga doodle from here was attached to the ask)

That is every other Royal that exists in the Nether and also at least some of the demons that challenged him for his Royal title lol.

Believe me, no one was or is more surprised then me XD;

So, the thing about where Rire's ichor manifests is that it kinda exists and doesn't exist at the same time. Meaning that his upper back is where the manifestation point is anchored, BUT it can still manifest with a bit of space in between it and his back hence why it will manifest over his clothes and not through them.

So if you touch where the manifestation point is sans the ichor, than you are just straight up touching his back. With the ichor, he still gets sensory input from the tentacles to his back but it's a lot more soft and muted esp the further away it gets from him. As you've seen implied though, he would feel a very sharp pain if a great deal of damage was done to the ichor where it clusters at the manifestation point, since he'd DEF be feeling that straight in his back lol.

He is definitely a top and the only way he would bottom for anybody is if they somehow forced him to.

Ah i knew i'd answered this a long time ago [finally found it]! Holy crosses (those that have been blessed) can also burn him but they would need to be in contact with him the entire time. Being a Royal he also has more of a tolerance to these than normal demons.

Well, unless said person actually has the undeniable ability to make good on their words, Rire would just stand there rather genially with that little smile he sometimes has and let them finish.

And then he might use them as reverse suggestions for dealing with said person (why would you give him any ideas!!?)

both

In BTD canon it is quite possible that they actually haven't in person. But we are using creative license here haha.

Rire heals a lot faster than a human. Cain is not my character so I don't know how his stacks up.

I've grouped these asks cos they kind of have similar answers - 360° (jk sorry sorry to the second q that is just a very common spelling mistake and I couldn't resist XD; )

Now, even though we mashed all the characs together in BTD, they all actually come from different storylines and so their canons outside the "BTD canon" may differ. This tends to bleed in. With this in mind:

The rules of Rire's canon (eg the concept of Battle Royales and how to become a Royal) don't apply to Cain. Anyway, they don't live in the same place either.

Cain is canonically the oldest and most OP character in BTD lol so yes he is stronger than Rire - you might've noticed, but Rire is never in the same drawing as Cain voluntarily. I play with this along with the "natural weakness" aspect - which I've also referred to as scissors-paper-rock rules XD Basically; demons beat humans, angels beat demons (purely because demons have weakness against holiness).

It would (be insane) but I hope you are not looking at me to fulfil this :d

Not really

His coronation day is a public holiday in his sector so yes XD

Aww thank you very much for your interest! ≧(´▽｀)≦ It's really cool that some of you guys want to actually fund such a thing - I'd have thought you'd have enough of him killing you in BTD1 XD Unfortunately, I have no plans for a Rire game at the moment as I'm working on a webcomic which looks like it will take up all my free time (that being said, he will be in the webcomic at some point).

Nope! Although i can kinda see why you might think that lol.

Whatever that one is where he doesn't particularly care what someone else identifies as. It really makes no difference to him or how he will act.

There are viruses in the Nether that if contracted could potentially kill you, yes. Part of being a Royal is becoming a lot more robust than normal Demons though. As for if/when Rire dies, I dunno maybe either in a Battle Royale somewhere thousands of years down the line or by old age (which is rare for a Royal but not impossible if you play your cards right).

If you are asking if he has a heat/rut of some sort, he does not |D

#boyfriend to death #art #rire answer dump #answer dump #doodle #long post #decided to actually redesign what a naga rire would viably look like since the old design was bad XD

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euaphoric · 9 months

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・゜ ʚɞ ゜・゜

✩‧₊˚ pairing — jungkook x f!reader (established relationship) ✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, very suggestive but no actual sm*t in this, cute kissing & cuddling hhh, oc is called “little girl” like once

another 4 am post, im on a roll w these hehe >:3 but i just wanted something to post for my bday (even tho this nothing to do w birthdays?? LMAO) and i can’t get this damn live out of my head like he’s fckung inssne sffdsgsh n e ways this is lowk corny but enjoy lol.

the faint sounds of birds chirping awoke you from your nightly slumber, eyes fluttering open to your wide awake boyfriend scrolling on his phone. he seemed to be very focused on whatever he was watching, wondering how long he’s been awake for. you prop yourself up slowly on your elbows, barely able to move a muscle from feeling sore by last night’s events. you two can go at it for hours at a time - you forgot how much of a real workout it is being on top. it’s impossible so hard to resist him though, you love that jungkook has just as much of an insanely high libido as you, literal match made in heaven.

waking up to him everyday already felt like a blessing in itself honestly. he was the epitome of perfection; in only a pair of boxers, staring at his chiseled figure, toned biceps, those muscles?? yeah you were beyond down bad for him. but he was just as down bad (debatably more) for you too. your raging hormones were really getting the best of you. your first thoughts were to violently make out with him but instead you settle for some sweet cuddles right now, coming closer to nuzzle in his bare chest. “g’mornin’ sleepyhead.” jungkook mumbles, averting his attention to you instead of the screen. “took you long enough to wake up!” his arms went to cage around your form. “what time is it babe?” you ask, a slight yawn slips out, still feeling groggy.

“7 am.” “wait- really?!” you were so confused, you weren’t expecting it to be this early since usually you don’t wake up until around 10 or 11. “yeah, i didn’t get much sleep though.” his soothing touch runs down your back, pressing delicate kisses to your forehead. this was home to you; feeling his warmth against you, listening to his hums as he cradles you, never wanting to leave his embrace. you were living rent free in your boyfriend’s arms 24/7.“hmm, what should we do today?” you ask, peeking your head out a bit. “dunno… why don’t we just stay in and watch some anime?” his lips proceed to attack your face, pecking kisses all over until you’re physically sick of it. unable to utter a single word out from all the smothering, you just let him do as he pleases.

“but we do that everyday already koob.” you finally get to say once he comes up for air. “and? i see no objection here.” god he can be so stubborn at times… “c’monn, we should go do something today..” you pout, feeling bratty over his unwillingness to be social. you love staying in bed and binge watching shows with him but for some unknown reason you wanted to be adventurous today. “actually, i know what i wanna do today.” he smirks, biting his lip at you. of course, he only wants to stay inside because he’s horny-_-

you let out a tiny scoff, “ugh, perv!” nothing he says should ever surprise you anymore but it’s still fun to tease him. “only for you though.” he chuckled, pulling you back in but this time plants a wet kiss to your lips, “truthfully i just want you all for myself.” his hand brings your leg over to wrap around his waist. “such a selfish boy.” you tease some more, combing the disheveled strands of his silky hair. “mhm mhmm, that’s me.” he proudly admits, he acts very territorial over what’s his and would def gatekeep you from everyone if he could, no one deserves to see his precious bb but him:( “i’m still hella sore from yesterday, i don’t know if i feel like doing anything right now.” you timidly reply, butterflies forming in your tummy as he casually traces circles to your thigh. his eyebrows furrowed, “who said you had to do anything?”

he catches you off guard when suddenly his body shifts underneath, positioning you to be below him while hovering over you. when leaning in he stops midway to stare and admire your pretty lips, wanting so badly for them to be on his. he closes the distance to finally kiss you, giving you a million more butterflies as your body sinks into the mattress. you can sense all the passion and longing from just kissing him, it’s desperate yet filled with fervor, you feel his love immensely. when he gnaws your lower lip as entry, it becomes more heated - a full-on make out sesh occurs. fingers all tangled up in his locks while he caresses your upper body, lips moving perfectly in sync with one another. soon as you wrapped your legs around him a switch goes off in his brain, he needs you, like expeditiously. jungkook sneaks his hands up to your arms when he breaks away, pinning them above your head, you don’t know why but your first reaction was to giggle which puzzles him. “what’s so funny hm? keep thinking i’m playing little girl, i’ll have you begging we stay in.” he remarks, eyes shading darker as he doesn’t find any of this to be a laughing matter. “koo i-” he quickly cuts you off with another breathless kiss.

“shh, just lay back and relax pretty, let me do all the work for you.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fanfic

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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keep close | part III

Joel Miller x F!Reader [8.3k] summary: Joel was never a man of religion—thinking about the enormity of everything was not for him, but he understood the concept. Devotion. An other-worldly comfort in something, or a place. Joel had never, on the other hand, experienced religion. As he lifts his touch from your hands to explore the rest of your body, Joel is blessed, and this is holy. The air around him sizzles with everything existing between you two. 📝 This is the final part of this little story, and I hope it meets the expectations. If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ soft!joel (he is, deep, deep inside, okay?), bathing together, slow undressing, deep talks, first time, dirty talk, begging, fingering, guided orgasm (yes, Joel Miller does walk you through it), penetration (p in v).

← part two | masterlist

Joel wished he felt comfortable in his skin.

He remembers there was a time when he did. He used to have a lighter step, lighter touch, lighter eyes.

All his edges feel sharp now, even to him—silver like steel, or the hair that glinted at him from every reflection as a reminder of why, and up until some time ago, he'd kept up a good shell. An exoskeleton of great thickness that kept him going with minimum blows to the skin.

Until a while ago, he had no reason to try being anything other than this.

Being this kept him alive, but—it would also keep him away. From Ellie. From you.

He wanted to be close to you. Closer than he admitted to himself for a long time.

As close as physics would allow, and even then, it wouldn't be enough.

He thinks about all that as he puts Ellie to bed.

Not that he calls it that. Or, god forbid, you did.

Ellie claims to be grown enough to live all on her own if it came to be, and yet, she somehow always ended up 'awakening' sometime in the night. Joel lost count of how many late-night conversations with you had been interrupted by that sight: her short, teenage frame being outlined in the darkness standing stiff and awkward, right before she blurted, "I keep hearing... you know."

Their noises.

Ellie's nightmares were about their noises. One day, you simply got up, took a deep breath, and said, "C'mon, let's go back to bed, I think you need just need some company. We can talk, if you want. Or not.."

No one — not you, not Joel — called it 'putting her to bed' because Ellie was grown, and 'far from a kid' already, as she'd put it. She didn't need some grown person talking to her until she falls asleep. It's just nice, she said. It's just soothing, because according to Ellie, they — the grown-ups — have a tendency of forgetting the 'younger folk need some stimulating conversation too, man'.

How could someone not love this kid?

Joel watches her sleeping body for a few moments. He places and tucks the blankets around her to keep her warm, and closes the door on his way out.

He hated to admit how magnetic she was at the start. It was so difficult to accept the sharp wit and horrible jokes were simply her. A part of her, born embedded in her genes just like a lack of patience, or straight hair.

When Joel opens the door to the bathroom, he's greeted by steam.

The whole place is still covered in it despite the hour of dinner.

He sees you sitting in front of the bathtub, and proudly announces. "Miss I don't need a lullaby today asked me to tell her a story," his eyes feel yours on him as he takes off his jacket.

He hears the scoff. "She's been asking me that all week," you answer with a tone that says you're behind, old man, "And she even threw the 'make them good stories, too—I don't want any boring, pg-13 rated shit.'"

"The army teaches shitty manners," he takes off the flannel jacket too and starts unlacing his boots. "She woke me up with a wet finger in my ear once. D'you know how long it's fuckin' been since someone did that? Decades. It's been literal decades."

"I think you meant to say the army doesn't teach them any manners," you say. "And hey—at least that's kind. You, on the other hand—"

"Oh, here we go," he laughs.

"—you decide to wake people by saying their name. Announcing their name, in that deep, Odin-inspired vibrato that already gives them a heart attack, and then you just," you blow raspberries in the air. "Fuck off."

He laughs. Tries his best to keep the volume low because he knows better, but laughing and kicking off his boots feels amazing.

None of you have showered since the attack.

A week was a gross amount of time to spend without a washing rag and hot water rubbing every inch of your skin, but the poor unfortunate truth of living in an apocalyptical world remained almost natural now—it was not weird to happen. Just gross.

Cleaning yourselves to the best of your lonesome abilities when there are bruises littering almost every member of your body is also a challenging task.

He's done poorly in his, and he wished bashfulness still existed somewhere in his bones for him to feel sorry about it. Instead, Joel let his body fall back with only a layer or two of clothes left in him and laid on his back on the floor.

He says, "I can't believe I'm gonna shower," fully expecting some witty remark back.

A joke. A jab. Anything other than— "Joel."

A soft, single whisper. Joel's head whips in your direction, and he almost gets up in an electric shock—your curled-up position awakens his instincts of 'cradle, cover, protect'.

Scared. Had he made a mistake? Had he jumped the gun and done something too fast? Something wrong?

Before he can jump to any conclusions, you add. "I'm gonna say this in a single breath 'cause I'm feeling oddly stupid about it and the rational, intelligent parts of my brain that know this means absolutely nothing can't find a single argument back for the question then why the hell do I still feel like every inch of my skin is a part of my insides..." you breathe in deep, and lift your head, tilting your chin high. Your eyes make sure to meet his. "I—," you choke on it once, and Joel witnesses as the blush rises from your neck, painting like watercolor its way up your skin. "I never... did anything. Nothing that went beyond sad, pathetic displays of.. what I can only call 'making out'," you laugh, humorless. "God, I feel like a fucking idiot."

"You're not," he affirms. He might be failing faintish, and his body may be running hotter than the insides of a volcano, but he'll be fine. "You tell me anythin' you wanna tell me, and I'll listen. And if you want to—"

"Don't," you interrupt him. "Don't take it back," your eyes shine at him. Don't take back your offer because it would hurt. It would kill me. "Please."

Joel would do anything you asked. "I won't."

You smile. "Thank you," you say softly. After another deep breath, you go on. "I wanted to tell because... It's only fair you know. Considering—" you swallow visibly around the word, and his body mimics the action as if you and he are your own hive of two, "I've thought about this. A lot, Joel."

A lot, Joel.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales, feeling the air punched out of his chest. He looks away from the earnestness on your face.

"And whether it's because a first impression always stays or not, I don't know, but I'm gonna remember."

And so would he.

Joel gets up from the form, his body now released from the imaginary chains that kept him bound to his place as you said your peace, and makes his way up the step to where the bathtub is and you're sitting on the floor.

It hits him that he's kissed you, and you've kissed back, and Joel's free to do it again.

The thought is what makes him sit right back you, pulling you in direction of his chest. You go easily, and it melts him more than the prospect of hot water on his body sometime soon.

"I thought you'd be happy I opened my mouth instead of stewing on stuff and keepin' it to myself and, y'know," he saw above your shoulders the way your hands did movements all over the place, and he laughed on your neck. "Didn't think you'd be this cuddly, though."

Joel rubs the bottom of his face on your skin just for that comment, enjoying feeling you squirm. "You opening your mouth is never a problem," he bites back with amusement.

"Callin' me blabbermouth?"

"Callin' you straight spoken," he corrects. "Precise."

"Awn, shucks—thanks, man," the sarcasm in your voice makes him groan. He's surrounded by smartasses, and it pains him. The laughter is nice, though; Joel guesses there are worst things than spending winter locked in a mountain cabin with someone who makes him laugh at the end of the world.

Sure, he is bruised and so many things are not right with humankind, but—not here.

He won't think about that now.

It's not his weight, just for these moments.

When you're done laughing, your body sags inside his hold, melting like snow under the Sun. He drinks it all in. "I'm aware this will be good for wounds 'n all, but I hate that I know it's gonna hurt so much the first couple of minutes that it makes me want to postpone it. What's another week without a proper shower, right?"

"Hell."

"Yeah, but so will be submersing our bodies in this," you point at the tub.

"At least it's together?" Joel offers.

Your head resting on his chest tilts up until you can look at him properly, and he's always thankful for the opportunity of seeing you smile. "That was cheesy," you whisper.

Once more, Joel sighs. He's smiling, but—it sounded so damn cute. Cheesy, accused between the lips that formed that teasing smirk, that mouth that—

Joel hates missing things.

He writes down in his mind that he will never miss your mouth; he'll always have it. If he wants it, he'll take it, and so he does.

Your face is angled, waiting for a hand of his to cup it and guide it toward his lips.

Kissing you is better than most things Joel's mind still clung to as the ones worth living for.

His personal favorite, the sun hitting skin for the first time after a long winter—it felt like that, but better.

He felt a tingle in his spine when you melted on him, prompting him to kiss harder—Joel starts moving his lips on yours and is granted with you following his lead like in the kitchen; you open up so well for him. You follow the rhythm of his tongue, and it makes it feel easy when he knows that's far from the truth.

When he pulls back, Joel thinks about what you said.

I never did anything.

Joel has to take deep breaths. You open your eyes after another heartbeat, and he's burdened with the silly need to kiss your entire face, so he does.

First the lips again. Then the cheeks, and the nose next, and you start giggling when he moves to your forehead, whispering, "tickles, Joel," but he doesn't care. There are the temples, and finally the chin, and—he exhales, smiling content at himself.

He looks ahead to the tub. It's a soaking type, made of dark wood he's almost sure comes from the forest surrounding them right now. "You think we'll fit in there?" he asks.

He feels your head moving to look, too. "It's made to fit two adults, I think."

"Ellie said it was the best bath she's had since she left the school," he shares.

Your hum of approval makes him realize just how hard this task is going to be—pun not intended but well applied. "She really needed one."

"We all do," he scoffs. Reluctantly, Joel lets go of your body to get up and finish undressing. He sees the two wood buckets you used to heat up water for Ellie's bath are full again, so he asks. "You heated up more water? Why?"

You pierce him with a are you kidding me, look. "Joel."

"Yes?"

"We need a wash, rinse, and repeat. I don't know about you, but I feel gross. Disgusting. Crusty—"

"Okay, okay," he interrupts, bursting into laughter. "I got you. You can stop tryna seduce me," he says while standing up.

Even though there's steam, he knows your blush is from him. For him. "Wasn't trying to," you argue with no heat. Smiling.

Joel is so fucked. "Really? All that sweet-talking about how much you stink had no goal?"

Your response is only a roll of the eyes, and Joel starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Hmm. Could've sworn it got me here showering with ya."

"You offered," you laugh, and then—your gaze lifts, sees what Joel is doing, and lowers, twice more bashful than before. "There was no seducing involved."

He groans in response. "Nope. 'm pretty sure your mouth was on mine. That's seducing," he states. "Hey," he calls. Your eyes find his. "You can look, 'yknow? 's nothing you won't be seein' in a second." Joel would say 'it's nothing special' but he knows you well enough. You'd hate hearing it, you'd fight him on it, so he thinks on his words. "If you want to," he adds, because fucking hell.

You do look up.

The second he feels your gaze on him, Joel's lifetime insecurities reappear from the shadows, birthing all over again like a flair under his skin.

He's okay. 5"11' of scars covering inner demons always on a battlefield, veins of whiskey, and a chest that he swore up and down would die empty.

It feels hot now. Occupied.

The shirt comes off, then the white tank top that's more a rag than a piece of clothing by now, and he only musters enough courage to look at you again as he unbuckles his belt.

The permission didn't prepare him to see you staring.

Gazing, checking him out with eyes as thirsty and obvious as a starving person being presented with a plate of their favorite food.

Joel swallows thickly around the knot that forms in his throat.

He wants to say something, but instead, he just undresses.

He wouldn't know what to say.

Joel didn't want things for two decades. He wants so much now that he feels like his body could vibrate at a frequency that would break glass.

His pants fall on the floor, and Joel stands there only in his underwear.

You swallow visibly, too. Then you look up into his eyes and say, "Permission to share a weird thought?"

That got his curiosity. You two loved sharing weird thoughts — no judgment, that was the rule — and he sees you nodding.

You start undoing your clothes as well. "You know that feeling of being so comfortable around a person 'cause they make you feel like you can be yourself?"

"Yeah."

"I always had that with you," you say. Joel removes his underwear with a single motion and tries to push down the feeling of hotness climbing up his chest. "And... I don't know if it's post-apocalyptical shit or not, but, d'you feel like you have a hunger that could never be fulfilled, ever again?"

Joel sits back down while he waits. "I do," he answers. "About everything, right?"

"Yes!" your exclamation is earnest. You get it. "I'll never satisfy any of it," you conclude. "That same feeling—that despair that a decadent world creates in you... it made me look at you and think 'I wanna bury myself in him' because—it brought me comfort? I hope that's not a too weird thought, I don't wanna freak you out or anything, but..." you shrug. He sees you trying to gather the words, and waits. "I just always had this.... feeling, this thing where I looked at you, and you're so broad, and tall, and strong," you shiver, and Joel feels his body twitching in response, "I wanted to get under your skin. Just... make myself all cozy inside you. That's probably some weird, mother-issue kind of thing, but."

It makes him laugh.

Joel looks down at himself for a second because taking in what you said and watching more of your skin become visible made his throat dry and his hands itch. "Trust me," he says. "You're under my skin."

Despite already being naked, Joel feels he peeled off another layer just with those words.

"You ready to go in?" He doesn't check for how you took the confession. He'd never said anything close to it that if he thought about it too long or too hard, something inside him would burst. "It's gonna hurt."

It takes a second for you to answer, and he's already up and dipping his legs inside when you do. "Good to know."

Nothing more than a soft whisper, and it heats up his insides better than the water.

Joel hisses in pain as his body submerges. While he alone occupies a good portion of the tub, you'll fit. A tight fit. Another knot forms in his throat.

There's the faint sound of clothing pieces hitting the floor and when he looks to the side, you're like he is—naked.

Vulnerable.

Just like him, you do it in one go, submerging your body despite the pain of the still-throbbing wounds. Your face scrunches in pain, which is the only reason he can focus on something else other than your legs touching his underwater.

The rag used for bathing is hung on the tub—clean, dry, washed.

He picks it up as you throw some water on your shoulders, and thinks about how much of you he'd like to know still.

So he asks. "Can I start?" He'd never be able to focus on something else with your hands on his body—washcloth separating the touch or not.

"You—you're actually gonna—uhm. Bathe me?"

"That's the idea, yeah. Unless you don't want me—"

"I do!" you interrupt. "I just—I thought you were only gonna clean my wounds."

There's not much space to move around now that you two are sitting, but he can move.

"No," Joel dips the cloth in the water and grabs the soap bar outside the tub. "Can you turn around for me?" He needs to find his guts first. If you're facing him, Joel will just gaze. Desire. Distract himself. "Wanna start with your back."

"'kay."

When you turn, Joel's mind goes blank.

Here he is, sharing a tub with the one person who's made him feel more human than anything else, and all he can do is long for.

His worries as he walked to the bathroom involved discomfort or tension. There's none to be found, even in the silence.

Joel sees your hair all tied up and wished he was the one to do it. "Aren't you gonna wash your hair?" he asks, and his hands start to work.

"One thing at a time, don't you think?" you chuckle. "If I was gonna do that I'd have to heat up another bath."

"Just for the hair?"

"Just for the hair. Ask El, doing this shit nowadays is a nuisance."

"I'll take your word for it," he's careful with his hands. There aren't many open wounds on your body, only splashes of purple, green, yellow, and blue. A Monet painting. "Please tell me if I hurt you."

There's a moment of silence before you answer, "You couldn't." It's the softest he's ever heard your voice, and he hears the confidence and truth in it. You don't believe he could hurt you. You're a hundred percent right, of course, but hearing it still soothes him. "But I will," you add, turning your face around to give him a smile.

Instead of returning it, Joel leans forward and kisses the lips that continue to do it—every time you confess thoughts and feelings buried in you, Joel feels something stirring inside. Being born, maybe. Growing.

You lean back to the kiss, and suddenly, your back is touching his chest. Joel makes sure to keep his hips propped against the bathtub so this is about what he said more than what he wants, but this is now his favorite position.

When you pull back, Joel feels himself smiling.

Opening his eyes, he finds you staring.

"It'll hurt when I wash that knife wound," he remembers.

Your eyebrows pierce together, recalling the gash you have on your left side. "It'd hurt more if it were days ago?"

It's offered like leverage. He takes it. "Brave one," he states. So much braver and smarter than he'll ever be—someone who still has the courage to feel what she feels and say it.

Joel hopes it'll rub off on him.

"You're the brave one," you counter. "You know... I think you never told me about what you did before all this."

He frowns. "No?"

You shake your head. Joel adds more soap to the cloth and starts washing your arms, "I used to work construction."

"Did you like it?" your body is loose in his hold. Joel holds up one of your hands and washes it slowly, back and forth, like he'll do to every part of you.

"I did. I think there's something to be said about building a home. About building good structures, y'know?"

As he cleans your body and wounds, the questions keep on coming, and he keeps on delivering answers.

For your arms, you ask about his work, and who he worked with. Joel takes note of every scar you have on your body, curious as to whether they came before or after the outbreak.

When he moves to your back and chest, you ask him about what he used to enjoy. He talks about it—trips with his brother, barbecues with friends and family, a nice and peaceful week at a distant country somewhere where he barely speaks the language, but he can get to know different cultures and people.

Joel stops when he sees the tattoo of a date under your right boob, trying his hardest to ignore the desire to squeeze what's in front of him.

Not the time. Bathe first, feel it later.

"Whose birthday is it?" he asks, putting the tip of his finger on it.

You stay silent, so he keeps on moving. He slides his hand underwater to your leg, and palming its way down your thigh and calf, he grabs hold of your foot; he's analyzing for any wounds but finds none, so he starts washing your legs.

When the answer comes, Joel's hand stops for a moment.

"It was—," your choked-up voice pulls his eyes to your face, and the sorrow he finds there makes him ache. "Oh, god."

A choked-up laughter. No humor to it, and a thousand ghosts on your face tell him he's about to hear something that'll change him again.

"You don't have to—" he starts, but you raise a hand asking for silence, for give me a second, and he stops. As long as you want to.

"We never talked about the 26th," you state. He goes back to washing your legs, shaking his head. "Can I?"

"Yeah."

"I was—" you breathe in deep, and look at him again searching for something. "I never told this to anyone."

Joel nods. "I never talk about it, too."

"It doesn't help, does it?" Your eyes are red-rimmed, and Joel notices there's much about you he never figured out. You're younger than him by a lot, but you were there.

"No." Sirens, flares of green light, and the cracking cacophony of screams and shots still wake him up almost daily. "No, it doesn't."

"I miss talking about him," you whisper to him. A tear slides down your face, and it cuts him.

Who does she miss? "Who do you miss?"

He's moved onto the other leg when you answer. "I was at my best friend's house on the twenty-sixth. She was working double shifts at the hospital to pay for—," you stop.

Joel can only take so much. He pulls you close until your face is resting on his shoulder, and he feels his eyes stinging.

He gets that. Sometimes saying a name was too much.

It took months before you heard of Sarah, and her name was all you got until now.

"Take your time," he says.

"Caio needed new glasses." Your arms wrap around Joel's middle, and he knows you'll be staying in his arms until the tale's over.

"Caio," he repeats. Recalling the roman numbers, he adds. "January twenty-five."

"Yeah. He—Caio broke his on his solo mission to find fossils in my backyard—well, technically my dog Diana was responsible, but he always said 'don't blame her, Gumma, she only wants to kiss me', so we said it was his fault."

"Gumma? Who's Gumma?"

"I am," you laugh. "He couldn't say 'godmother when he was born, so he shortened it. He told everybody I was Gumma, his s-second mommy."

Joel tightens his hold on you, suddenly very aware that he's shaking.

"He was sick," you go on. "So no school for him that day. Which means I was there. I could work from home, so Milla always called me."

"Was it just her?"

You nod on his shoulder. Joel starts rubbing his hand all over your back and he could never tell if it was for your comfort or his.

Both, probably.

"We raised him, basically," you sniffle. "Milla and I lived on the same street. She was basically disowned for her teenage pregnancy, so I told her parents they were always shitty at their job, and that unlike them, I knew what family meant, and that we didn't need them. If she wouldn't, I might as well."

Joel smiles at that. "Sounds like you."

"We moved, worked shitty jobs, and lived together for the most part. My parents helped us with bills for the most part of the first years. When—when Caio turned eleven, my parents paid for the coolest party. And—I'll never forget it, 'cause it was the last one he had, so..."

Eleven.

Joel buries his face and tears on the curve of your neck.

"So on the twenty-sixth, I was at home with him all day. Fucking hell, how unfair is that? That I got all those hours with him and—" the way you burrow your face on his throat makes Joel wish he could make you live under his skin. Protected from everything. Even memories. "When everything started going wrong, Milla was still at the hospital. She called twenty-three minutes before all signals went out to tell me that something was wrong, very wrong and that she felt we needed to go somewhere safe. She said 'babe, I want you to think of nothing else but getting to safety, d'you hear me? Go to Mr. Nunqua's house, he has a safety bunker there—go, and take Caio. I'll find you there."

Joel listens to the rest of the tale with his heart in his hands.

You got there, but Mr. Nunqua was already infected.

He was the first person you killed. His wife was the second.

You managed to get both you and Caio to the bunker, safe and sound, but it wasn't enough.

It never is.

Caio being Infected was a crueler end than anything Joel's mind came up with.

"He realized it, Joel. He noticed something was wrong, and—"

It takes a few more moments before you can finish what he already expected. "He asked me to make the pain stop before he could hurt me. He said 'please don't let me hurt you, Gumma'."

Milla found you cradling his body in your arms hours later, and that was the last you two saw of each other.

He lets you take your time to feel better before he pulls your face back to look at it.

The pink cheeks and eyes hurt him, but when he kisses your face, your lips, all he can think is how proud he is of you.

"Can I do you now?" you ask, pulling your hand out of the water in a request for the cloth.

He hands it to you, and watches as you do the same routine as he did.

In return, he asks you all types of questions.

He thought it would be hard to concentrate with your hands on him, but they're so dainty and careful that Joel feels transcendental.

No one ever took care of him like this.

Even the lovers that he once showered with, it was never this intimate.

In the bruises where he hisses in pain, you kiss somewhere else in a soothing manner. His shoulder, the nape of his neck, his outreached arm.

When the question comes, Joel is waiting for it, but he's not ready.

You answer the question about the places you've been and he replies with, "Oh, Sarah always wanted to go there. India."

"Did she?"

It's such a simple answer.

It locks him up the same. His muscles become tense, and his head shakes almost on its own.

I can't do it. He wished to be strong like you but talking about her hurts. "It hurts to talk about her. I don't—I can't."

He expects a nod, or a change of subject.

What he gets instead is you cupping his face in his hands and looking at every inch of his face.

"I know it hurts," you state. Joel, for the first time, believes someone. We raised him. You know how it feels, you do. Which is why what comes next blindsides him. "But Joel—she's already gone. I never thought I was gonna be able to speak about him with someone who understood, but—here you are. We cant—are you going to let her be forgotten, too?"

Bullets hurt less.

His body reacts for him—the inhale is shaky, almost frail. Your words hit harder than shots, but that's okay, because your inquisitive mind and sharp tongue were a couple of the reasons why he went back for you.

It was needed.

"I—" you start. Stop. Joel looks up at you, breathing out the air stuck inside his lungs, and wills himself to breathe. "You know..." your voice is quiet. "I think higher... beings or whatever—that does exist, 'cause—" your laugh is humorless. "I would totally be dead because of my stupid mouth if my path had crossed with anyone else but you."

Now he gets the lack of humor—a sad statement, but never untrue. Not even a hyperbole. Joel nods, "I'd say it's because you say things that you shouldn't, but it's the opposite. And most people don't like that."

I'm not most people, he thinks.

Thank you for saying what you did, is left unsaid. He sees in your eyes that you heard it loud and clear.

"What I'm saying is... you don't have to be ready now, but—" when you lean, his eyes close on instinct, but the kiss lands on his cheek. Sweet. Saccharine. "Please know that you can. When you want to."

He nods.

After a deep breath, you look at all of him. "I think we're clean. Next round?"

The tub is emptied, filled up again, and Joel thinks about how right you are, and how often.

The second shower will be perfect. He's clean now, but when he sits back down on clean water, it feels different.

He groans, and you laugh in response. "I know, right?"

Joel liked it better when you were fitting your bodies against each other.

The water in the tub seems to carry the tension of what you two have been waiting for. Conducting the electricity in each other's thoughts.

"What now?" you ask.

Joel knows what now. "C'mere," he pats his chest.

Like a well-oiled machine, you spin around and fit yourself against him in a second.

This time, Joel pulls you close until you're basically on his lap.

"Now this," he answers. To feel. "I think I had a dream like this once when we were camping."

"What?!"

He likes how shock always makes you look at him, even if it means craning your neck in the worst positions. He laughs. "Yeah. It was a river instead of a cool tub in a forest cabin, though."

"There's no way you—" words are cut sharp, and your eyes widen. "You did! Oh my god, you actually did. You avoided looking at my face all day for two days after that, I thought I'd done something wrong!"

He takes the hit you land on his shoulder with a smile. "You did. You sunk a knife in the middle of an Infected's head and kept me from dying."

What else could he say?

Joel shrugs. "It was hot."

He likes how you can look shy even sitting on his lap, feeling all of his body. "You're crazy," you laugh, looking down.

"Mmm. And don't you forget it," he kisses your shoulder, and that's it—that's all both of you needed to wish for more.

Your hand comes to cover both of his, and Joel is giddy with excitement when you guide his hands from your middle to your breasts.

It's silent permission. An invite.

It's all he needs.

"Can I make you feel good?" he kisses right under your ear and nuzzles his nose right there, goosebumps rising on his skin in response to your full-body shiver.

The next touches are bathed in silence.

The only sounds in the room come from the water moving with each move of both your bodies, and the soft exhale that escapes your lips.

Joel doesn't think about how long it's been since—everything feels like a first time.

A rekindle of sorts.

The hands you guided to your boobs stay there for a few moments, getting a feel of their size, their softness, how perfect they feel in his hands.

Your head drops to his shoulder, chin tilted upwards, eyes closed.

Joel thinks he's dreaming.

The faint pain in some places of his body is the only indication he has of reality.

Nothing else matters when you say, "Joel," so softly, so pleading.

"I'm here," he kisses the words on your skin. Your cheeks, temples, your shoulders that are right there. "I'm here, darlin'."

In the soft moans you let out, Joel plants a flag to signal his way home now every time he's lost in darkness.

The moans are so earnest and shaky that Joel starts trembling when you do. His hands move to explore your belly, and he pins the wound on your side as a reminder for later—it'll scar. He wants to kiss it better. Will kiss it until he's satisfied.

When his hands reach your waist, he imagines you feel his heart racing faster.

He takes his time with it, not only because you deserve it, but because it feels good.

Playing with the hair on your pussy feels good because it makes you whimper. Touching the folds with the tip of his fingers gets your legs to open a little wider until they're spread apart. Joel moans at the gesture and is gifted with another shiver. "Like this?" he asks, doing it again.

Tracing his fingertips up and down the folds.

"Joel," you grind against him, reminding him that he's here, and he's aching, too.

When you do it, your ass finds his cock hard as a rock, and it snuggles to grind on him, giving him the first feel of friction.

With another moan, Joel's lips are sucking on your earlobe. "Tell me what I do that feels good," he states.

Then he dips his fingers inside.

"No one's touched you here before?" his middle finger dips right into the core, applying pressure but not touching.

Your moans vibrate on his chest. "N-no one but me."

"Yeah?" the mental image makes him even harder. Joel thought that wasn't even possible anymore. "Did you finger yourself a lot?"

You nod frantically, pushing your hips forward, seeking more of his touch.

"Did it feel this good?" he moves his middle and ring finger up until they find your clitoris, and he starts rubbing circles on it; he pinches it, measures it with his knuckles, plays with it.

Maybe that's why you don't answer.

He'll take your moans as a good sign. Your chest is panting, and Joel feels a little drunk. He hasn't been drunk in years—no whiskey available for regular people will do that anymore; too diluted, too fake.

Your heavy breathing and nails sinking on his forearms get his mind hazy.

Joel kisses, licks, then sucks on your neck. "Talk to me, darlin'. I wanna know. I need to know."

"Joel," you say, but too loud. He uses his other hand to pinch your nipple, and the whimper you let out makes him twitch against your back.

"No screaming." Not this time. "I'm waitin' on your answer."

"I don't remember the question," you whine.

"Did it feel this good?" he pushes only one finger inside, and your mouth opens wide. Joel might not make it—it's so fucking tight and all he can think about is burying himself in it. All of him.

"Nonononono, it didn't, it didn't," you mumble.

It's a slow process, opening you up.

All the time, Joel talks in your ear about how good you're doing. "Taking my fingers so well, look at ya," he sounds drunk if he pays close attention. Two fingers fit in too tight, so Joel takes his time until he feels you opening up.

There's the grinding that never stops—the more Joel pushes his fingers in and out of you, the more you move in sync with his hand, grinding back up against him with every push inside.

It's torture. He loves every second of it.

"I want more," you whine at some point.

Joel was so lost appreciating the view of your chest painted red that he missed when you whispered his name the first couple of times.

He checks it—buries his fingers up until his knuckles, massages the spots inside of you that make you curl your toes and pull your knees up higher.

"Please," you beg.

He likes the sound of it, but he'll leave that for later.

The third finger is easier than the second—Joel feels how slick you are. He knows water bodies are not the best places for penetration, but he values your comfort more than anything right now, and in here you're both warm. At ease.

When his name starts falling from your lips like a song, Joel knows it's coming.

His other hand keeps traveling through your body—grabbing at your neck, pinching the hardened nipples of your gorgeous tits, palming through your stomach.

If his lips left your skin for longer than a minute, Joel thinks it's too much. "Yeah, yeah, I know, darlin', it's climbing up, isn't it?" he thinks addiction can be so easy. Your whines are necessary now for him, no matter what. "I wanna see it so badly." His voice had never been this low. Hoarse like sandpaper, and so filled with lust. "You're all ready for me now, d'you feel it?"

All three fingers are buried until the knuckles. Scissoring them open, pumping them against your walls in search of that spot inside you that makes you shake—Joel can barely breathe.

"D'you want more than this? Hm? 'Cause I'm in heaven, darlin'," he tells you. "All I need is to see you let go now. I can't believe I'll be the lucky fucker that gets to see you fall apart."

"Joel, I want more—want all of it, please, please—"

"I'll give it to you, I will." He'd give you anything. "You can have anything you ask me, anythin'."

"Harder—please, please, please—oh! Fuck, like that, like that, Joel."

"You sound so good moaning my name I'm gonna fuckin' lose my mind," he growls. "Do it. Cum on my fingers. Cum for me."

Joel marveled with every shake of your body. He closed his eyes and kissed the part of yours that was the closest. Your legs clamped shut around his hand, thighs shaking. At least this time, you remembered to muffle your sounds on him.

In his neck, you bit down the whispers of his name. Whimpers. Ohs,

He waited for the impossible grip to ease before he thumbed a grazing touch over your clit—just to check; to feel.

"Want more," you kissed his neck, and there was no need for all that honey in your voice, really.

Joel drank it, anyway. Licked it clean from your lips, and drowned in the way you and the water seemed to wrap him in.

"We gotta get outta the water, baby," says Joel. "'s not a good idea we do it in here."

You stopped kissing his neck, your hips stopped their motion and the little look around you at the room makes Joel's stomach feel funny. He feels almost suffocated with this need to kiss all over the red on your face.

"Uhm—are we... here?"

Joel never thought he'd live to see the day you would avoid the word 'fuck', but he smiled at it. "No, darlin', we should get dry. Put our clothes on. We can finish this in the room, right?"

You lick your lips, and then his. You bite his bottom lip, sucking it into yours, and Joel is fucked.

He melts, too. All over you, on your fingertips caressing his cheeks, on your chest pressing against his, and on the depths of your eyes as you stare deeply into his.

"'kay," you whisper. "Let's go."

Joel helps you out and loves to watch the way you gravitate toward him. When you whisper, "Do we have to put on our clothes?"

He wraps you in the towel instead of answering, and pulls you to his chest again. "Body warmth, remember?" Just for good measure, he puts the other one around him, collects all the clean clothes you had bought, and then looks at you.

"Hop on," he nudges your waist with his hands, and you get exactly what he means; your legs wrap around his middle and your arms stay firm around his neck. Joel holds you with a satisfied grunt, "atta girl."

The warmth of all of this has a price.

Joel knows it as he walks you to the room you two share, as he closes the door behind you both, as he lays your bodies on the joined mattresses, and pulls the winter blanket over your bodies.

It'd be more than a steep price.

Something on the figures of what he signed off when he took the job from Marlene—when he took Ellie out of her fingers.

Those dotted lines he signed with a blind eye. Unaware of what he was agreeing to until he Ellie's life faced danger and all the moments of every single awful joke she told, her smart jabs and the braveness in her bones to risk her life for him came back like a slap to the face, and Joel was crushed under the enormous weight of it all.

He accepted it, even if he still couldn't say it.

With you, it was almost the same.

He signed the dotted lines when he came back for you.

He couldn't know, wouldn't dream of knowing what he had signed up for until the time he ordered you to keep close and you answered with: "Always. El, you know it—between us."

Seven words, and Joel thought of nothing else for days.

Always.

For months, you never left his side.

Abided by his temper, shortness, curt words.

Spoke through his darkness and whiskey, reaching out to him the same way you did with Ellie—pulling from deep within the part of him that was still alive. Truly human.

When Joel touches all of you covered under a blanket, he wills his eyes to stay shut because if he opens them, they'll sting.

He feels too much, and it's never enough. The taste of your skin is sewn along with lines of fear, the acidic and familiar taste of I can't do it. I can't lose this. I can't lose you.

He kisses every inch.

Joel licks his name out off your lips every time they come out.

He nuzzles his face like an animal trying to imprint scent all over—from your neck all the way down to the inside of your thighs you'll have beard burns and it's okay, because you ask for them.

In the quiet, you two say so much.

Joel asked you, "you gotta keep quiet, baby, we can't be loud," and you listened, because you're so good. He says it, too. "So good, baby... you're so good," and listens to you reply with,

"You're so good, Joel. So good."

He soaks it all up until it's all mixed in his veins.

The price of hearing your sinful whisper in his ear is high. "Need you inside me," you brand in his skin. "Please, Joel?"

Joel would close his eyes and see those words—he wants to burn them behind his eyelids since they're so loud they erase everything else from his brain for a while.

He fingers you some more to double-check if you're ready and he has to talk, because, "You're so fuckin' wet, darlin', my god," he whispers in your ear, and your nails clawing at his back, digging into his skin tell him to hurry. "All this for me?"

"Please stop torturin' me," you whisper back, sounding like you're about to cry.

It's torture for both of you, so Joel lines up. He teases you with his cock, gliding his shaft between your lips, coating it in the slick that's dripping down your legs, and whispers, "You want it?"

"Joel," you growl at him.

Joel pushes in with a smile on his face and has his face scrunched in a silent smile when he slips inside. It's a tight fit at first, and Joel has to stop midway. He has to breathe.

"'m gonna go slow, 'kay?" He does. He pulls almost all the way out, and slowly pushes in again, feeling you tense around him, "Breathe, baby, you gotta breathe for me."

"Joel," you whisper. Around his cock, your cunt pulses, and he curses under his breath. You bury your whole face in his face and moan. "s big," you moan. "Feels so good."

He's only a man, you see—Joel's hands are supporting his weight on each side of your face, and they tremble.

He has to drop to his forearms and elbows, caging your body underneath his. "Breathe really deep for me, baby," he whispers, and you do it. "Close your eyes now, and relax."

The price of having you all to himself is one Joel never could afford, but one he'll spend each day of his life doing everything in his possession to pay.

His whole body shakes as you open up for him. It's a blossoming—Joel feels it around his cock the moment your body relaxes and you feel it.

Your legs wrap around him tighter.

"Move," you whisper.

So he does.

He's deeply in debt.

Joel gets lost in the feeling of how warm and tight you are around his cock, and it makes him drunk. It makes him feel like you're wrapped all around him, and Joel never fucked like this.

He could've gone a century without sex and he would remember;

Nothing felt like this.

No desire or lust or bodies aligning ever made him move this slowly, with this much pace; Joel's back must become a mural of claws being sharpened by the time you beg him to go faster, to push harder.

"'m not gonna break Joel, for fuck's sake, please," you beg as he kisses your lips and fucks you leisurely, and it registers.

Through the thick fog of everything that this is, he listens to it, and he gives it to you.

Joel has no idea how he lasts this long.

When you cum for him, it's not even because he's fucking you. He's more like imprinting the memory of your velvety touch all around him, pushing deep and hard as he caresses the sweat off your face, and he's telling you all that his lust-drunken mind is thinking off.

"Didn't think—could feel this good, darlin'." His pauses are his thrusts, and he wonders if you're listening to any of it, or is just lost on the sound of his voice. He knows you like it. "You like—the sound of my voice—don't you, baby? I know you do." Thurst—and deep, and fuck, "I'm—so fuckin' lucky—look at you—look at how good—god, you're gonna kill me, baby—"

He dies a little death when he feels you start shaking.

All you.

His name spills from your lips and your nails dig in deeper than ever before, and that's what does it, what drops the pin and makes the ball of knotted tension that kept him high burst—Joel has only the notion to pull out before he cums, but he cums so hard that he loses sense of everything for a moment or two.

Your hands are soothing his face when he comes back to it.

Joel feels like a whole person for just those hours with you in the dark.

With you, he realized something—while Joel's skin may offer him little comfort, yours does.

The soothing peace that comes with feeling that again, comfort, makes Joel breathe out and close his eyes without his chest tied in one big knot for the first time since... it. He is alive. However that came to be, or why, he'll never know, but your words are a mantle of truth that can start bringing peace to his inner war of two continuous decades now—he can either keep living and burying everything: Existence, hopes, feelings, love, memories, her, her—Sarah;

or... he can live.

Joel wants to live. With Ellie, with you. He pulls you closer, and focuses one last second to hear the certain sound of Ellie's pencil furiously creating something on paper across the thin wall, and he sleeps.

📝 So. I gave the old man some love and some peace (that he deserves) because I watched him lose yet another person this Sunday and I was hurt. What did you guys think? :)

#usernexusnyx #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller hurt comfort #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female character #joel miller imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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sigilsmut · 10 months

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 - 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

Damn my ass did not make it in time again. Am I still gonna post it? Sure why not.

This goes out to @sanjisblackasswife as a small present. I hope this is ok Timi 😭 🖤 Happy (belated) birthday

CW: established relationship, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, lingerie, a few petnames, Sanji being a pervert per usual, just plain nastiness

“How are you fairing, mon cher? Are you still with me?” Sanji’s muffled voice asks you as if he hadn’t snatched three orgasms from you in the past 2 hours.

As expected, you couldn’t form a proper sentence, your mind as hazy as your watery vision. He was three fingers deep into your pussy while his other hand kept a vice grip on your body. That didn’t stop it from squirming as much as it could, however. A string of moans blessed his ears like the sweetest melody. Smooth, creamy legs spasming around his dizzy head.

The blonde had surprised you with a heartful breakfast earlier, slaving over the stove at the ass crack of dawn to make sure your birthday started off on the right foot. When you expressed concern over how tired he’d be, he simply brushed it off, reassuring you that ‘it’s what my goddess deserves’.

Of course, a banquet was also held for your special day. It was filled with numerous activities, rounds of bubbly drinks, and little heartwarming speeches of how each Straw Hat (in their own quirky way) was grateful to have you in their lives. And you were just as grateful to have them in yours.

But what kickstarted the moment between you two was towards the end of the night, where Sanji had walked in on you changing. By accident? On purpose? Who fucking knows. If his flushed cheeks, slick grin, and nose running of blood was anything to go off of, he didn’t feel any remorse seeing you in your scantily clad lingerie.

A baby blue set, complete with white garters and a pair of blue satin panties. All in his favorite color. You went on a birthday shopping spree with Nami earlier and the set caught your eye. Thinking it’d be cute for you and your boyfriend, you immediately put it on after purchase. It was apparent now that it was a good choice to make.

After locking the door behind him, his long legs carried him to where you stood near the bed. He gently set his hands on your waist, and after giving him the go-ahead, it was downhill from there.

Hands groping and tracing over areas where his lips followed close behind, no part of your sun-kissed bronze skin was left unmarked. The stubble on his chin tickling your belly and inner thighs as he went along. It’s what led to now, with three of his fingers curling into you and his tongue tracing circles around your clit. The sheets became stained with the mixture of your juices and his saliva, but neither of you seemed to care. The bed shook from how aggressively he humped into the mattress, rolling his hips and dragging his hard on against the sheets. The friction made a delicious burn grow against the tip of his cock, and a groan bellowed from his chest.

“Lemme have another one, Y/N-swan...” He mumbled. He took your clit into his mouth and hummed, picking up the pace with his fingers. Your back arched off the bed, screaming into the darkness of the spare bedroom as you gushed into his mouth. He lapped up everything you gave him and only eased off of you once your fingers pushed his head away.

“You taste absolutely divine, darling, like the sweetest nectar I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. I can never get enough of eating you out.” He heartfully grins like the nasty pervert he is.

Finally he sits up and strips himself of his boxers, groaning as his cock sprang free and slapped against his abdomen. In your stupor, you drooled at the sight and weakly reached forward to dab at his tip. He shudders.

“Such a pretty dick, ‘Ji...” you sweetly murmured. You swear you’ve never seen a man move so fast.

You blinked and he was hovering over you. Your body quivered as you realized that he was already pushing inside you, eager to bring you back to cloud nine with him this time. As his pelvis kissed yours, so did your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head as you tasted yourself. The bedframe slammed into the wall as his lithe hips snapped into yours. Your eyes widened, balling the sheets into your fists as you held on for dear life. Sanji gazed down at you in astonishment.

From his perspective, the moon was absolutely gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as you. Sanji thought he might cry, still in disbelief that he got to have and pleasure someone as beautiful as you. Your watery brown eyes looking up at him with so much love, your locs sprawled out all over the pillows and yet framed your face perfectly. Your puffy lips in an ‘O’ shape, crying out from his purposeful thrusts. Your brown skin seemed to be glowing with how the moon shone on you. In his eyes, your beauty outshone all the stars in the sky, your angelic voice reaching the Heavens at this point.

It’s almost as if that was his goal with how fast he was going.

His slender hands lifted your lower body, wrapping your smooth legs around his waist to push himself in deeper. The blonde craned his head back and moaned, feeling your velvety walls clamp around his cock in a vice grip. His breath hitched, slamming his hips into you even harder and rolling his mushroom head into that one spot that made your toes curl. The bed creaked and croaked underneath the two of you, and it was absolutely certain that Nami would give you shit for how loud you’re being.

“Gimme another one, cherie, pretty please..” He weakly begged of you. His fingers rubbed over your clit rapidly and you groaned, the amount of pleasure overwhelming you. Your whole body shook as a silent moan escaped. Your walls squeezed again and the tension in your belly released. “S-Sanji-!”

“That’s it, princess. Let go for me” he encouraged you. He mewled as you reached your high for seemingly the fifth time tonight, your juices gushing all over his pelvis and all over your thighs. His curly brows scrunched together and tears began to swell in his eyes, groaning as he filled your walls with his warm, sticky load. You have never felt fuller than this moment.

His body curled over you, his hot labored breath in your ear. He turned to you, moving a loc out of his way to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “Happy birthday, my sweet Y/N.”

“Thank you Sanji.” You smiled lovingly and he returned your expression. Once you calmed your breathing, you reached your hand up to caress his cheek. Sanji was eager to lean into your touch, swooning at how adorable you looked in your after-coitus glow. Suddenly his eyes widened in realization. “I almost forgot.”

He then reached over and took your panties in his grasp, stuffing them in the deep recesses of his pants pocket. You furrowed your brows at his actions, even though you knew good and well what the reason was.

“For safe keeping.” He grinned. He was gonna keep the pair as a reminder of tonight.

“You play too damn much!” You laughed, lightly smacking his shoulder. He laughed with you, stretching back on the bed and collecting you in his arms. Peppering your face in little kisses, he looked up at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Would you like to go again? You’re welcome to ride me if you want, you are the birthday girl after all.”

#sanji x reader #sanji x black reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #sanji x reader smut #pure nastiness #i hope this was toe-curling enough for you #.romanticism

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thebadboyfanclub · 10 months

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Welcome To Our Family (Daemon x Reader)

Hey everyone, so as I mentioned before I wanted to write a throuple thing with Rhaenyra and Daemon although even on this request there was some drama involved but it was interesting to write nonetheless. Also I don’t know why but this song inspired me the most especially the part “where you go I go, what you see I see” that was the vibe I was trying to pass for our reader with daemon

Most would say that the war in the stepstones had no place for love to blossom, the reeking stench of death had overtaken and most men had no life in their eyes, the majority prayed in gratitude that they were alive while others cursed the gods for keeping them on this forsaken realm when their friend of even their kin had been killed.

That did not even grace Daemon, who was lucky enough to spend every night in the arms of his beloved (y/n), the sister of one of his soldiers that had been wounded, (y/n) had marched in and demanded that her brother will come home.

“I will be damned if I allow you to give more than an arm for this, you are coming with me”

Her brother had obeyed her, she was as fragile as a rose but her thorns stung more than anything, right then and then Daemon had become a mere slave to his emotions, something that had never occurred before.

“I wish I could stay in your arms forever”

“That would be a dream, my love, however, we are counting the days until you depart, your wife probably awaits you”

Daemon was deeply offended by the jab his lover had thrown at him, slowly he rose up and away from her arm reach to look her straight in the eyes, the fireplace burned bright and the light shined against her glistening skin.

“You are questioning my feelings for you”

“I am questioning how strong they are, you are a prince, a husband, your life seems to hold no room for me”

“Is that how you think of this? That I just wanted to bed you?”

“Do you truly wish for me to answer that?”

Silence took over them while the only sound came from the crackles of the fire, Daemon was aware of how badly this could look, she was a commoner, a mere lady, and the realm would never accept her even if Daemon had not wed another.

“You and our daughter mean everything to me”

“But nothing to the king, he will ask for my head once he finds out I am carrying your child”

“I would never put your lives at risk”

“How do you plan on keeping us safe my love?”

“Do not worry about that, I will take care of everything”

(Y/n)s belly was starting to show, it wouldn’t take long for the king and his little whisperers to demand answers, the easy route was to declare his kin a bastard but Daemon was flying on cloud nine when (y/n) announced that she was with child, no he must do right by her.

He flew with her to Pentos, far away from Viserys and people that cared most about titles and crowns than love and compassion.

“Twins, my prince, two sons, praise the mother”

“What about (y/n)”

“The lady is a warrior, she is tired but healthy”

Daemon did not speak another word to the maester, he simply passed by him and into the room to find his beloved laying in bed, a faint smile on her face as she held one of her children while the other was being held by a midwife.

“You owe me 3 dragon coins”

“It is a bet I will happily pay, how are you feeling?”

“Sore and gross but happy, why don’t you hold him?”

“I-“

“Come on love it is merely a babe, like… so”

Slowly (y/n) passed one of her sons to her lover, instructing him to hold it carefully but securely, then she reached for the midwife so she can have her other son in her arms, both of the babes were quiet in their parent's arms.

“What should we name them?”

“I was thinking of Orryn, and mayhaps… Baelon?”

“Baelon and Orryn, the two princes”

Daemon and (y/n) had grown inseparable much to his brother's dislike Daemon had scoffed at his previous marriage and took his place next to his most endearing (y/n) that had blessed him with not just two children, but with passion, and comfort, she created a home for him, without her there was no warmth, no color.

Viserys was only finding out the milestones his brother was achieving with his mistress via ravens that Daemon dared to send, the birth of his sons had scratched a wound in Viserys that was not quite healed yet, so naturally when Rhea had passed due to fever, Daemon had even dared to invite Viserys to his wedding that took place in Pentos.

(Y/n) had just given birth to another set of siblings, Alyssa and Arren, two silver-haired princesses that slept peacefully through the night and would only stay quiet if (y/n) or Daemon held them, (y/n)s parents and brother had traveled to Pentos to finally meet the children and also attend the wedding.

“You look dashing sweetling, I see the prince has taken good care of you”

“How could I not? What is more important than the happiness of my lady wife?”

“We must admit we had conflicting thoughts over you my prince, I am happy that you proved us wrong”

“I do not hold it against you, she is your daughter you want what is best for her, also you were not the only one, (y/n) was also very skeptical over my intentions”

“I had every reason to do so”

“I have made peace with the fact that you will never admit you were wrong my love, you do not have to find excuses for it”

Daemon and (y/n) were wed in Valyrian traditions, something that infuriated Viserys, how dare he wed a commoner with the sacred paths of old Valyria, it was distasteful and utterly disrespectful, Viserys had only sent a one-sentence raven scroll back

“You disgust me, never come back”

Daemon had only rolled his eyes at it and threw it in the fire, he couldn’t care less about Kings Landing, they could eat each other for all he cared, (y/n) and their children were all that mattered ever since he met with the beautiful hues of hers, he treasured everything about her and worshipped the ground she walked on, he would always hold her close and shower her with gifts.

“We received a raven, I have taken the liberty to open it”

“What is it?”

“Laenor Velaryon has passed, and your niece is requesting our presence, well yours to be specific, she said “I need you, uncle”

“You are jealous, I have never seen you get jealous”

“Is this the one you told me about, that “spur of the moment” girl?”

“Indeed, we do not have to go, besides, my brother banished me”

“No, it is the first time our presence is requested”

“My dear, you are with child and the flight is long”

“I will be fine, I know it”

Daemon was certain he could not sway her, once something was on her mind there was nothing that could turn it around, he was also aware that the reason she was so adamant was a side of hers that felt threatened, there was a ghost of his past that was requesting attention and (y/n) was not willing to walk away from this without putting up a fair fight.

At a day (y/n) and her 8 children stood next to her and her husband all dressed in black, everyone rubbed their eyes at the sight of such numerous children, (y/n) always knew she was meant to be a mother and that fact that she had Daemon as her husband made it so much easier.

Until it didn’t, they were summoned by the king after the ceremony, (y/n) felt her stomach drop as soon as she walked in the room, instinctively her one hand went over her growing belly, yet she mastered the strength to place a smile and curtsy before the king.

“What is the meaning of this brother?”

“I was hoping we could agree to some sort”

“Over what?”

“I wish for you to come back, I… will legitimize your children and wife as she has proven worthy, bringing forward 8 children with another on the way is no easy task”

“The gods have been generous to us that is correct, we are grateful for this offer but forgive me to ask, since you mentioned an agreement it seems you want something in return”

“Correct, there is no smooth way to say this but as a parent, I hope you understand that I would do anything to protect my daughter”

“No”

“Daemon”

“If you are asking us to wed Rhaenyra then you have lost your mind, I will not involve my wife and children in your scandals”

“Pardon my husband, I think you can understand the reason behind his outburst”

Daemon was left confused over (y/n)s composure that attempted to cover for his utter refusal to hide his brother's plans, he turned to observe his wife, she was calm, and her hand went to find his as their fingers intertwined (y/n) gave him a slight squeeze of comfort.

“The legitimacy of our children and our marriage is something that we are interested in, however, you can see why we might have some objections over accepting Rhaenyra in our marriage”

“You are trying to negotiate?”

“Yes”

“What else would you like to accept, please speak freely”

“I want my children to be given dragon eggs as well as meet any unclaimed dragons, they are Targaryens, they should have the pick of their dragons as well”

“Done”

“I shall also be considered Rhaenyras wife, if we were to wed I shall have the same rights as my husband”

“You are suggesting the realm accept you as the future queen's consort?”

“As you mentioned I brought forward 8 children and another on the way, the crown shall accept them as future princes and princesses, if not then there is nothing for us here”

Daemon chose to observe his lady wife than speak up, she took initiative and strived for the best option, something he admired in her but he had never really witnessed how far she was willing to go to secure the future of her family, now she was sacrificing a spot in their marriage for a seat at the table, Viserys had been outsmarted by what he used to frown upon.

“Very well, we accept your conditions”

“Well then… welcome to our family Princess Rhaenyra”

(Y/n) and Daemon wed Rhaenyra as they had once done while their children and the rest of their family watched, Rhaenyra had underestimated the lady, (y/n) and might not be as assertive or rebellious as Daemon but her wits and calculated movements showed a woman that walked with her head held high and every step was thought after.

The days turned to seasons and then years, everyone was holding their breaths as they took a front-row seat to one of the most important marriages and alliances within the Targaryen Dynasty.

(Y/n) was held in the best light by the small folk, “the realms mother”, and “the Alyssane reborn” as her fertility kept thriving, blessing Daemon with another set of twins soon after Rhaenyra was wed, the two beautiful baby girls were named Megaera and Valera, the first of their family to receive dragon eggs on their cradles a gift by Rhaenyra who picked them herself then came Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya, overall (y/n) had the castle of Dragonstone filled with children, 13 to be precise.

Rhaenyra was painfully aware of how those babies came to fruition, Daemon's thirst for his wife was evident and he did not even consider giving Rhaenyra the courtesy of hiding, Rhaenyra had lost count of the times she had walked in on (y/n), and Daemon lusting after one another at all hours of the day and any room that was close to them, she sometimes wondered if the legends of Rhaenys being the favorite wife of Aegon made Visenya go through what Rhaenyra was also experiencing, is that mayhaps the reason behind Rhaenyra identifying with the warrior queen?

As (y/n) and Daemon stood by Rhaenyra at court, defending her and consulting her on important matters, painting the picture of a happy marriage with two spouses that supported her revolutionary claim, the realm expected Rhaenyra to bare a child as well, (y/n) was producing heirs one after the other, Rhaenyras womb laid empty since Daemon did not spend not even one night in her chambers.

It was the first time in years that the three of them had stepped foot in kings landing, Vaemond had called the court to usurp Lucerys from his claim at the driftwood throne, naturally, all 13 of their children were present along with the three boys from Rhaenyras previous marriage, (y/n) insisted that it would show how United they are and having that strong of a number on their side would scare off any other accusations.

A solid plan, until Ser Vaemond decided to protest against the king affirming young Lucerys as the successor for the driftwood throne.

“You run your house as you see fit, but I would rather die than let that boy take over my family’s name, parading around because you are too blind to see the truth”

“You dare question the decision of a king?”

“Look at them, all thirteen of them hold the characteristics of old Valyrian, true born heirs that I would happily accept as mine even though they came from a womb of a commoner, and you ask me to accept these three boys as Velaryons? It is blasphemy”

“You are certainly bold Ser Vaemond, you have the nerve to call me a commoner when I hold the future queen and the brother of the king as my spouses, my children are not thirteen, but sixteen, and all of them hold their names with pride, it saddens my heart to see that the thirst for recognition has turned you to this low of antics”

“Her children are BASTARDS! and she. Is. A. Whore”

“Pity, you had such great potential”

As (y/n) finished her sentence Daemon had taken the liberty to end Ser Vaemonds life, a clean cut through his head right above his tongue with the great sword dark sister, causing most people to gasp while (y/n) smirked and watched the body fall on the well-polished floor.

“No one disrespects our family”

“Disarm him!”

“No need, my love”

Daemon stretched his hand to his beloved (y/n) who only turned to pinch Lucerys cheek before she took her husband's hand to walk away, only to halt and turn around again, looking back to the rest of her family members.

“Rhaenyra”

Rhaenyra was grateful for (y/n)s graciousness, there was nothing that she could hold against her, she was loving and caring to her three boys, she would listen to Rhaenyra about any concerns for hours and even now she defended and included her in front of everyone.

She should be satisfied with such, still a thorn stuck in her heart and pride making Rhaenyra feel second best when it came to Daemon's heart, it has always been (y/n), (y/n) carried his offspring’s, he gave up everything for her, took her away and gave her a life full of gifts and love, the finest of any kind was reserved for (y/n).

“Pardon my intrusion, the princess is requesting Prince Daemon in her chamber”

“It is late, can it not wait?”

“Sweetling, the poor girl cannot know, go to her, I will be waiting for you”

“Fine, take your nightgown off for me, I want us to get straight to it when I get back”

Daemon whispered deviously before he planted a passionate kiss on the lips he most adored, reluctantly pulled away with an audible gruff and followed the servant girl silently, wondering what was so important that he had to leave his precious bed and his lustful wife right in the heat of the moment.

Rhaenyra paced back and forth with impatience written all over her demeanor and face, Daemon always had an influence over her, making her feel like a little girl again, though this was a different type of anxiety, once Daemon entered the room and the servant gave them their privacy Rhaenyra took a deep inhale through the nose to ease her nerves.

“I hoped to confront you over our marriage”

“What of it?”

“Do you truly think everything is fine or are you just blind?”

“I and my wife have honored our vows”

“That is the problem, you and your wife, it has never been just your vows”

“When you wed us you were to understand your place when it came to me and (y/n), I never used her as a surprise, you called for our aid and we generously offered it”

He was right, Rhaenyra had never been blindsided by them, (y/n) was a staple of their marriage, (y/n)s strive for the legitimacy of her children was the only reason Daemon allowed their wedding to happen, (y/n) had drank for Rhaenyras cup just as daemon had, binding their hands together and swore loyalty and devotion to their future queen.

As a woman Rhaenyra felt cast aside, this marriage was an insult to her pride, and having to bare through a birth of a child one after the other with a smile on her face was a twist of a knife in her wound, while her womb lay empty.

“You refuse to spend time with me, alone, you only show up with your children-“

“Our children, (y/n) and I call your sons our sons”

“At court yes”

“Are you questioning our actions? I did not have you to be as dim-witted as you seem right now, (y/n) called Lucerys her trueborn son in front of everyone, I took a man’s head for insulting you and our house and yet you stand before me and claim it is not enough for your liking?”

“I stand here to remind you that we have yet to produce a child, you can kill as many men as you wish, and (y/n) can scream it at the top of her lungs but that does not change that everyone sees her parading her belly and call her the realms mother while my womb rottenness under this wedlock”

“Rotten? Alright then, let us entertain this and say you bare my child, a silver-haired beauty that the realm will welcome, has it crossed that brilliant mind of yours that this will be more of a scandal for your three boys?”

“My sons are Targaryens”

“No doubt about it, but certainly they do not look like the part, in comparison to their brothers and sisters they look more like (y/n) than you”

“You are not refusing to lay with me to hush the rumors, you simply do not have the urge for it, I remember a time that you did, mayhaps it was the image of a gullible girl that kept you going”

“Listen and listen well, wife, (y/n) is my eternal love, the woman that took me in her arms and showed me life, you are my blood, I protected you, I defended you, I offered you sanctuary just so you can once again have something to complain about, well that is it, if you dare to summon me again for such idiotic matters I will grab my brother by the neck and force him to annul the marriage do you understand?”

Daemon was furious, as he spoke he started taking steps towards her, to the point that her back found the wall and Daemon was inches away from her face, hissing out the threat of annulment like a snake that released poison to its prey.

Rhaenyra had never experienced such hostility from Daemon, to say she was shocked was an understatement as her eyes frantically tried to find focus on his, daemons eyes were filled with fury, Rhaenyra had crossed the line in his mind, (y/n) had been kind and honorable to the princess, doing her duty like a proper lady wife and Rhaenyra scoffed at her, at his (y/n).

“Alright”

“Wonderful, now you must excuse me, I have some urgent matters that need my attention”

Requests are open!

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boldlyvoid · 4 months

Text

Neighbourhood Beauty

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope is hosting Christmas at her apartment this year, she invites everyone... Including her new neighbour, who is exactly Spencer's type.

Warnings: flirting, love at first sight, kissing, making out, teasing, drunk bau friends, food mentions, Baker!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

She was sad the whole journey home from work knowing that Christmas was tomorrow and she was going to be alone. As she gets into her apartment complex, she runs into her neighbour at the mailbox. She’s got 3 packages in her hands while trying to figure out how to carry the last two, “do you want help?”

“Oh, please?” She sounds so relieved. “What a blessing it is to see you today.”

She smiles for the first time in a few hours, “Oh, anytime Penelope. Are these all gifts?” She asks as she takes the two packages in her hands. She’ll come down for her own mail later. Nothing interesting should be in there.

Penelope nods, leading them towards the elevators. “I’m having a big holiday gathering tomorrow— wait, do you have plans, are you going home to see family?”

“No,” she admits, sadly. “I couldn’t get a plane ticket, I tried but they’re so insanely expensive lately.”

“Yeah, I know,” Penny sighs. “I haven’t gone out to see my brothers in years, they’re in California.”

“It sucks… but you have lots of friends here, right? I’m sure they’re coming over tomorrow?” She asks, mostly so she can feel some sort of comfort if she isn’t doing anything tomorrow either.

“I’m having Christmas here for the first time,” she shares. “Dinner starts at 6:30 but we’re having a little bit of everything for lunch around 2, if you want to stop by at any time?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t—

“You can, and you will!” Penelope insists. “You don’t need to worry about gifts or bringing any food, just show up. I hate the thought of you being alone next door.”

“Okay, I’ll come,” she gives in with a smile. “But I’m bringing a baked good… have you ever been to my bakery?”

“You own the bakery?” She’s so flabbergasted. “I thought you just worked there?”

She smiles, “I do… we do okay but I’m by no means rich enough to buy a plane ticket home.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing cause now I can eat whatever you bring tomorrow!”

—

She spends the whole night baking. She makes molasses cookies with powdered sugar on them in shakes of little Christmas trees and she makes chocolate croissants. One of which she brings to Penelope around 10 am so that she can have a nice breakfast before the party starts.

She showers, picks a cute outfit and by 3pm she’s anxiously waiting by the door trying to hype herself up to go over. She only knows Penelope. They’ve lived beside each other for 3 years now. She’s seen her friends coming and going and heard them talking in the halls but she’s never talked to them. But if they like Penelope, they’ve gotta like her too.

So she bucks up and heads over.

She knocks and within seconds, a handsome man is throwing the door open. “You don’t have to— oh, hi?”

“Hi… Penelope invited me? I’m her neighbour… Y/N,” she awkwardly introduces herself.

He’s at a loss for words— and breath, for a moment and then shakes himself out of it. “Spencer… Reid. Doctor… Doctor Spencer Reid.”

It makes her laugh, easing the anxiety out of her system. “Can I come in, Doctor Spencer Reid?”

“Yeah, yes, come in,” he steps out of the way and extends his arm into the room for her to follow. He closes the door after she’s inside and smiles. “How do you know Penelope?”

“I live next door.”

“Really?” He can’t believe it. “How long?”

“3 years now…”

“And you’ve never come over?” He looks offended.

She smiles, “Why, sad you haven’t known me longer?” She manages to tease him. She’s not always good at reading people but something about how he’s acting makes her think he likes her.

He blushes but nods, “Well, welcome. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” she looks him up and down. He’s very handsome. And a doctor… “how do you know Penelope?”

“We’ve worked together since I was 22…”

“And you’re now…?”

“42,” he presses his lips together, awkwardly. “Old…”

“No, no you’re not, I would’ve guessed 35 at the most,” she teases, stepping into his space, she places her hand on his arm. “You’re a very handsome 42.”

“Are you doing anything for New Years?” He asks, removing all his fear and looking at her with hopeful eyes.

She shakes her head, “no… I might be working but I can leave early, or you can come see me there?”

“Where do you work?”

“I own the bakery on 16th Avenue,” she smiles. “Penelope buys in donuts and things from me all the time, actually, I brought over baked goods this morning, they’re in the kitchen somewhere.”

“Did you make those croissants?” He lights right up.

She nods, “maybe I can teach you how to make some?”

“I’d really like th—

“Y/N!” Penelope comes running from the kitchen and wraps her arms around her, “When did you get here?”

“Just now,” she laughs. “Spencer’s been keeping me company.”

“Ahh,” she pulls away with a smile. “Well, come eat, there’s lots of snacks in here.”

She leads them into the kitchen where her other friends are around the table. “The ones with kids will be around later, they’re still putting batteries and things in their kid's gifts. But this is Rossi and Emily and Tara.”

She reaches out to shake everyone's hand, realizing only now that she never shook Spencer's, but he doesn’t mind, he stays close to her. They sit side by side, he passes her things from the table that she wants to put on her plate and he gets up to get her a drink and everyone makes conversation while also watching him dote on her. It’s been 20 minutes but there’s something there… no man has shown her this level of interest or flattery before and not to quote Lana Del Rey but, when you know you know.

They’re friendly as ever when there are people around them and they flirt like mad when they’re alone. She already has a date with him, but he’s just too cute and that shade of red he turns is starting to become her favourite colour.

“You seriously used all the ice?” Penelope chastises Emily, who pretends she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Go get some more, we have guests coming who don’t drink alcohol they need ice for their sodas!”

“I am far too drunk to walk down the street,” she counters and points to Dave.

“Not me,” Dave touches his nose, he doesn’t volunteer to do anything and Tara does the same thing, she’s just as drunk as Emily.

Spencer goes to get his coat with a sigh, “I’ve got it.”

“I’ll come too,” she rushes to the door with him, putting on whatever coat fits her so that she can follow him down to the street for some extra alone time with him.

She reaches for his hand on the street, “So, what’s it like at the FBI?”

He holds her hand gladly, “it's… okay. I just teach now. Fieldwork put me in the hospital too many times and I like being alive.”

“I’m glad you’re still here,” she bumps shoulders with him.

His smile is beautiful. “So, about that date?”

“We could do anything you want,” she assures. “But my offer still stands.”

“I think I’d like a baking lesson,” he nudges her back. “It's the one thing I’m not good at.”

“So what are you good at?”

“Rambling, falling over, getting shot,” he teases but she swats his arm, leaning into him with a laugh. “Okay, but seriously, I have a Ph.D. in Chemistry, Engineering and Math.”

“Well luckily for you, baking is just science and a bit of math,” she teases. “You’ll catch on quickly, smarty pants.”

He pulls her in, chest to chest, standing beside an empty store with all their lights off. He cups her face, “what’s sweeter? Your chocolate croissants or your kiss?”

She can’t help but laugh, “you’ll have to tell me…”

He pulls her in for a kiss and sparks fly behind her eyes. As if every atom in her being is on fire, she melts into him. Kissing him deeply, she holds his sides and the hand he has on her cheek goes into her hair as they begin to make out on the snow-covered street.

She pulls back first, smiling softly, “so?”

“You, it’s definitely you,” he teases. “But the croissants are a very close second.”

She laughs, “Well, keep up the compliments and there will be lots more kisses and sweet treats coming your way.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the neighbourhood,” he teases, leaning in for another kiss but she stops him.

“Just the neighbourhood?”

“The whole world,” he corrects, which is the right answer. She lets him lean in closer, stealing another kiss.

She kisses him again and again, trying to pull back but he kisses her a third time, making her laugh. “We need to get that ice, we’re going to be late for dinner.”

“do you want to hang out after dinner?” He asks, “I can walk you home?”

“And stay for more kisses?”

“Or croissants,” he shrugs. Happy with either.

—

They’re pretty normal for the rest of the party, she meets the rest of his friends and all their kids. And they’re some cute kids. The youngest is his friend Matt's 2-year-old, she sits at the grown-up table with them and eats one of the chocolate croissants with the biggest smile on her face. Y/N can’t help but think about how much her own kids might like her baking one day… and Spencer sees the way she looks at the baby too.

His friends are so lively, the the party goes on until well after midnight. The friends with kids head out early, Emily and Tara get a cab home, Dave is passed out on her couch and Spencer isn’t going to leave until she does. And she’s helping Penelope clean up.

“You don’t have to stay,” Penelope assures her, drying off dishes while Spencer washes them. She’s been putting things in Tupperware containers and organizing the fridge.

“I want to help, as a thank you,” she smiles at her. “This has been a lovely night.”

“And not just because I introduced you to your new boyfriend?” She teases and Spencer drops a plate.

She laughs, walking over to place her hand on Spencers arm, “I mean, meeting Spencer is the best present you could’ve given me.”

Penelope swoons, “Okay that’s it, love birds. Get out of my kitchen, go home, go canoodle and get to know each other. I knew this was going to happen.��

“Why didn’t you tell me in advance?” Spencer whines as he dries off his hands. “I would’ve worn something nicer?”

“You look cute,” she teases.

“See, that’s why,” Penelope points at her. “I knew she’d like you for you, she’s a baker and you love everything I buy from her bakery and she’s so kind and you need someone to love you the way I know you love people back. This is perfect.”

She wraps her arm around his waist and leans into his space, “thank you penny, we’re going to go now.”

“Thank you,” Spencer agrees, following her out of the kitchen and towards the door.

Once they’re in the hallway, he asks, “Did you really mean that?”

She nods, “of course?”

He lunges for her, kissing her with her back pressed up against her apartment door. She reaches for the doorknob, twisting it open so that she can bring them inside and push him up against the closed door instead this time. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.

He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, and he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips.

“Couch?” She pants against his lips, wanting to lay down with him.

“Show me?” He agrees, following her into her apartment and to the living space.

She pushes him down against the couch and climbs on top of him. He wraps his arms around her, cradling her body like she’s the most delicate thing in the world. He kisses her just as soft and she moves her kiss to his cheek and his jaw up towards his ear, “you’re so handsome,” she whispers.

“Thank you,” he gasps. “You’re absolutely stunning, I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smirks against him, kissing down his neck, “You deserve good things, Spence.”

“You’re too good to me,” he teases, hand slipping down to her ass. “How far are we taking this?”

She hums, “I’m good just talking and kissing all night?”

“All night?”

She nods as she pulls back to look at him. “I kinda don’t want to let you go. I’m afraid you’re too good to be real.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures. “I’m yours as long as you want me.”

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