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wexhappyxfew · 5 months

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hiya shannon hope youre doing well 😚 now ill let you pick the pairing because i actually haven't watched mota yet (which is treason and all, i know), but can't miss out on a chance to read some of your amazing writing. i thought these prompts were interesting:

3. “Tell me to leave and I’ll never bother you again.”

29. “Don’t lie to me. I was there.”

xoxo hope to hear back from you soon and can't wait to read!

HI FRIEND!!!! i hope you're doing well toooo!! thank you so much for stopping by! awe it's no worries, you know that!! i always say watch when you can or want haha!! :D you're too kind, friend, thank you for the love and support and i hope it lives up to it!!! i picked my OC Judy Rybinski and who she is ~eventually~ paired up with, a fav of favs, Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal, who i have a few more pieces for as well posted and coming in the next few days!! and, i went with the first prompt offered (#3) as it fit the vibes more here! these two have my HEART! and i hope this piece captures that too :) (also: i will absolutely be getting back to you soon my friend hehe 🥹🫶✨)

let it linger

(a/n): for the judy x rosie girlies again - giving you all the soft, slightly awkward and nervous vibes there is, with a hint of that eagerness and excitement as we near the end of the war! and judy gets a promotion (which she deserves and earns), so please enjoy that! plus, enjoy the slight hint of the imagery of a swan above! they're beautiful!! :D also....just incase i didn't mention it anywhere else (and thinking back i probably didn't) after some of the silver bullets girls get split up, judy gets a position as rosie's turret ball gunner on rosie's riveters!!

"Lieutenant Rybinski, that has a ring to it."

Lieutenant Judy Rybinski. In her eyes, it really did. Lieutenant Rybinski - with her new crusher cap, A-2 jacket fit to the length of her arms and rather tiny form, the Lieutenant bar on her lapel, and the new level of standards she seemed to hold herself to. Judy looked up from underneath that shiny new crusher cap at Rosie Rosenthal and grinned.

"You think?" she asked him with a chuckle, crossing her arms as they approached the mess hall, "I'll be honest, Rosie, I didn't expect it. They don't do that sorta thing real often around here it seems. I know Francis just got the big promotion, but I don't know…." Judy shrugged, "a ball turret gunner doesn't see that sorta stuff." Rosie watched her for a moment, before breaking out into a wide grin and stopping in the path and turning to her, his hands placed firmly on his hips.

"A ball turret gunner like yourself deserves to see that sort of stuff." he said, and then offered her a wink to which she gave him a look. Judy gasped.

"You know something, don't you," she said, leaning forward and popping his shoulder lighting with a finger of hers, "c'mon, spill, what is it?" Rosie watched her and shook his head.

"I just think that Operations really has seen the lengths you've gone in the line of duty," Rosie said with a gentle smile, "your leadership skills, your capability to remain calm under pressure, stepping up to the plate. How you had to come up outta the ball turret and take on tail gunner for the second half of a mission. That sorta stuff doesn't just happen. Some people panic, some stall up. You jumped right in." Judy watched him.

"How would anyone know….?" Judy started, trailing off after his spiel, only to grin like a loon and drop her jaw, when she saw him grinning like he always did.

"It was YOU." Judy managed in a mixture of gasping-whispering-and-excitedly-yelling, before placing her hands on her reddening cheeks and grinning, "You didn't have to!" Rosie laughed lightly and shook his head, before stepping forward and placing his hands on her shoulders comfortably, like they'd been there all her life, his presence both warm and kind.

"I know how hard you work, Judy," Rosie said quietly, the feel of his gaze on her both pleasant and peaceful all at once, "I got mixed up in a conversation with Jack Kidd, he brought up the Silver Bullets, and….well, I couldn't help but bring you up." Couldn't….help? Judy was probably red in the face, but she didn't mind. He couldn't help but bring her up?

"You got that look on your face," Rosie said quietly with a chuckle, "I know you don't like the spotlight, but when people do what you've done, you deserve it." Judy stared at him, fighting back a bit of pent-up emotions that have been living inside her body for months. Despite her feelings towards Rosie as a whole (which had continually grown deeper without fail and had been increasingly harder to hide), and her emotions towards the war (which were ever-present), having someone like himself, taking away her emotions towards him, recognize what she's done, and what her sacrifice has been, made her want to have a breakdown.

"People don't usually tell me that sort of thing," Judy said softly back to him, smiling up at him with her rosy cheeks, "so thank you." Thank you for seeing me, like you always do, Judy thought to herself. Rosie smiled at her genuinely, and then squeezed her shoulders.

"It's always my pleasure, Jude, you know that." Rosie said tenderly, before dropping his hands from her shoulders and crossing his arms, nodding to the mess hall, "Ready for breakfast?" She nodded, but felt rooted in place, eyes somewhere towards the ground.

"You okay?" he asked her, reaching forward and bumping a pointer finger lightly under her chin as she looked up towards him, his hands going back to his hips. The longer she stared at him, the more she couldn't contain her thoughts inwards.

"You're really amazing you know?" Judy managed out, with a nod, "And you've probably been told that a million times, by a bunch of guys, as well as a bunch of girls wanting to have your last name, but, genuinely Rosie, meeting you has meant everything to me. Please know that." Rosie watched her, his turn to get rooted in place as a silence fell around them. Judy's cheeks grew a darker red just as the realization of what she had said to him and she suddenly wanted to take it all back with that look on his face.

"I…" Judy started, "listen, tell me to leave and I'll never bother you again, but, you do so much for me and everyone else around you and you put so much of yourself out there to better others and help other people. And you make sure people are cared for and comforted and doing well and are healthy, which damn, I barely look out for my own health, and you just…" Judy fell at a lose for words as Rosie stood there soaking in her jumbled mess of speech that he was definitely trying to decode in some sort of way. There she goes again, just saying whatever came to mind, right in front of Rosie Rosenthal, her emotions edging her on even more so in recent days it seemed.

Even if all he saw were friendship between them and they'd never be able to explain what all those touches and lingering looks were for whatever was to come, he'd know that she thought he was incredible and someone who has genuinely changed her life. He'd know that for as long as he lived, even it meant embarrassing herself until the point she was red in the face. She noted his slightly red cheeks and the wheels working in his head to speak.

"Thank you, Judy," Rosie said quietly with a nod, catching her gaze as she stared at him, whatever was swimming in his eyes enough to get a smile on her face, at the way he seemed breathless enough without words to stand there in front of her and look at her like that, "it's the right thing to do. Here. Right now. In the world. Help people. Make them know they're an important part in all of this. I….wow, bit of a loss for words, Jude." Judy watched him and then smiled grandly up at him.

"You take a minute to catch your breath," she whispered, before stepping forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, where she might've lingered a little longer than needed, but the spark of connection with that gentle touch was enough to keep her boldly functioning, "I'll meet you at the mess hall." Pulling back she looked at him and so up close, she could see every bit of his eye that you never saw from far away, and it made her smile softly within his general gaze, enough to keep him smiling, himself.

"Even if there are a lot of girls who'd like my last name," Rosie started, referencing her rather bold display of emotions, "none of them have ever kissed my cheek like that."

Judy froze up as she stared at him, her heart pounding so loud in her ears, she swore she had imagined that last part. She stared at him, swallowing her words and thoughts to try and get her body functioning and looked up into his eyes again.

"Maybe because none of them ever had the courage to really get to know you," she whispered back, holding his gaze like a sun to the moon, "and know how much you deserve to be loved like that." And then Judy was stepping away from him, trying to tell herself not to regret every word she was saying, spilling out of her mouth in that moment.

They could go down any day of the week - she was done watching her friends fall in love and then get their hearts torn out of their chests. She was done with the war getting what it wanted. She was tired of people letting the war take away the one thing that was ever-present. Love. Even if it meant a few bold, rather embarrassing forms of half-confessions and awkward, nervous laughter.

And Rosie.

Rosie deserved to know. She just had to find the courage to tell it straight to his face all these feelings she had wrapped up deep inside of her. For now, she'd let those thoughts linger longer.

Maybe.

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toxicbrothel · 10 months

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girl talk.

1.6k, sweet pea x f!reader

for @romanarose (ask) 💕

Neither of you is physically described. SUMMARY: You're alone together in the trailer. WARNINGS: I8+ AU where Carter has a gf. angst, kissing, grinding, fingering, cheating I guess, a little bit of alcohol, crying, slight dacryphilia?, fluff. Unedited. not the same au as river of dreams.

You're Carter's girlfriend. He and Joel have to go do something dangerous. When you and Carter get to the trailer, sweet pea is begging him not to go just the two of them, but Joel says they don't need more men. Before they leave, Carter cradles your head and kisses you goodbye, long and deep. When you open your eyes, sweet pea is watching longingly. She tears her eyes away from you and Carter and asks Joel if she can come. He says no, the two of you are staying. He kisses the crown of her head and grabs her behind.

Once the boys are gone, the two of you sit at the table for a while, then go for a walk. She doesn't talk much. You try not to think about how you and Carter have kinda roleplayed as her and Joel. Not by name -- but the situation you played out was basically theirs, and you were thinking of her when you did it. The fantasy was your way of getting Carter to be more aggressive, and it worked. Now that you're with sweet pea alone, you feel like you've sold her short in your characterization. It's easy to think of her as passive and meek with how dominant Joel is, but she has a strong energy of her own. She oozes sensuality in the way she moves, like she can't help it.

---

When you're back, you play cards and read. Later, you pull out a flask of whiskey and you both have a little bit to drink. You look at a magazine and talk about what you would wear and do if you went out on dates. She brings out some old nail polish Joel brought home one day. She paints your nails and the light touch of her hands makes you tingle.

She's pretty, really pretty, and there's something magnetic about her. She's quiet and sweet, and on the surface there's an innocence about her, even if it's just the way Joel dresses her, or the contrast between her and Joel. But there's something darker underneath; you can see it flickering in her eyes during some moments, like when you ask her what happened to Jackson and she seems to suppress a smile.

---

Carter and Joel don't come back when you expect. Sweet pea goes to bed. You wait up a little longer, then you hear her crying.

Your shoes are already off. You tiptoe to their bedroom and the door is open, but you knock lightly anyway. She ignores it. She's curled up in the bed with her head buried in the pillow, facing the door where you stand. The room is dim. You step forward and sit on the edge of the bed. You reassure her, "they're gonna come back, they're fine."

She shakes her head and wipes her eyes. You insist they'll be fine.

"It's not just that," she mumbles into the pillow.

"Then what is it?"

She keeps sniffling into the pillow. You sit there for another minute then slowly lift the comforter and she lets you. You slip into the bed. You're wearing pants and a t-shirt. She's wearing a nightie and one nipple is peeking out of it.

"He doesn't kiss me," she whispers, with her eyes still pinched shut and it breaks your heart. “He wont.” Her cheeks are wet.

You scoot closer to her. You're facing each other on your sides. Her eyes are still closed. Her tears are wetting the pillow. You brush one off her cheek and her eyes flutter open. She deserves to be kissed. You look at her apologetically and she looks at your lips. You look at hers.

You find yourself scooting closer and your face drifts toward hers. You get closer and closer until your noses are almost touching. You cup her cheek, and brush your thumb across her bottom lip. She tilts her chin up, then you cup her cheek and close the gap. Your noses brush and you press your lips into hers. You cradle her head and she kisses you back. Your tongue parts her lips and her mouth accepts yours, first passively, then hungrily. Your hand moves from her head to her back, holding her against you. She holds you, too. You're throbbing in your pants. Seeking pressure, you put a leg over hers and let out a little "mm" into her mouth as the crotch of your pants presses into her nightie.

Your lips smack as she abruptly pulls her face away. You reflexively take your leg back. She licks her lips and rubs them together, furrowing her brow, looking down. She takes a deep breath through her nose. "I shouldn't," she whines. “He-”

You nuzzle your nose against hers without kissing her. "It's ok," you whisper into her cheek. “He's not gonna know.” You kiss her cheek, still wet and salty with tears. Then you kiss her neck, and she doesn't stop you.

She repeats your words. "He's not. . .mm--hes not gonna know."

You can't resist her. You put your leg over hers again. This time, her thigh nudges between your legs. Your hand comes to the warm bare skin of her upper back. She's sweet, and she feels spring loaded with desire. You begin to suck her neck. She sighs and melts into your arms. God, no wonder Joel can't keep his hands off her. You could devour her.

You're beginning to suck her neck harder than you realize. "Careful," she whispers and she's right. Her hand comes to your face and she nudges your chin so your lips return to hers. You grind against her thigh and her hand comes between you. Your pants suddenly loosen - she's quietly unbuttoned your jeans. You urgently kick them off, briefly wondering if Joel would kill you, but unable to stop. You'll hear them get back, and it'll be like you just went to bed. You leave your underwear on.

As soon as your pants are off, your bodies and faces come together. You breathe through your nose as you kiss her and nudge the loose strap of her nightie off her shoulder. You palm her tit and feel a bolt of need between your legs. You pry your mouth from hers and bring your lips to her breast, sucking her nipple into your mouth. She lets out a whimper. You're gentle and careful.

You nudge her onto her back and you lie on your right side with your left leg over hers. Your lips return to hers and you grab her thigh as you kiss. Your hand slides up her thigh and you find she's not wearing panties. Yours are soaked, she can probably feel it against her hip as you grind against her. You're mostly on top of her now. but still bracing some of your weight on your right arm. You lift your leg enough to put your hand between her thighs. Your clit twitches when your fingers touch her curls. Your middle finger nudges between her folds and she's dripping for you.

Your lips break apart as she shudders at your touch. Your nipples harden and you breathe heavily against each other's cheeks. She holds onto the sheets and her hips lift into your hand. You rub her, and your clit throbs. You've only been touching her for a minute when she lets out a little whimper. She's so sensitive. She moans and you catch it in your mouth, kissing her again. Her mouth falls away from yours with another moan, and her spine arches. Her body jerks and she whines. "Jo–ohh," she whines as she cums, then whispers "shit," with her brows furrowed, "Mmm."

You're throbbing against her hip. Her noises are so sweet. You lightly grind against her as she finishes, and you begin to pulse. You bring your hand from her cunt back to her breast and press yourself against her. You kiss her again with her nipple digging into your palm and your hips pressing into her as you ride out your peak. When you're finished, you take your weight off her and roll back onto your side. You lightly stroke her hand. It's kinda sweet that she can't cum without thinking about him.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I wasn't thinking. I just–"

"It's ok," you whisper and fix her nightie. "It's how it should be." She turns on her side to face you. "He loves you," you reassure her. Her eyes widen and get watery, then she pinches them shut and shakes her head.

"Carter thinks so," you whisper.

"Really?" She asks and opens her eyes like that means something.

You nod. "Some people just… have their own way."

She sniffles. "Thank you."

You put your pants back on and fix her hair for her, then you get a blanket from the other room and you lie on top of the comforter. You feel bad for her. You thought she was so lucky - dicked down by Joel Miller at least once a day and it's no secret what he's packing. You saw her as queen consort of the raiders. The men were afraid to even look at her. At first you were a little jealous of how much Carter cared about protecting her, until you were around them enough to see she was like a little sister to him. The way Carter talks about Joel, it’s obvious Joel's crazy about her. But he needs to show her, damn. He needs to show her with something other than his dick and his gun, even though it's hot how violently protective and possessive he is. Hopefully he at least goes down on her. Shit, he's probably really good at it. You want to know but don't want to make her sad by asking. You imagine their private moments as you drift off.

You fall asleep.

and I guess you could have an MFFM dream where you're making out while your guys fuck you

---

Thank you for reading and compartmentalizing!

#toxicbrothel #ofc x f!reader #oc x reader #raider!carter #sweet pea core

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 5 months

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Taylor Swift Edits ✤ Amethyst Andrews x Jughead Jones x Sweet Pea

The Tortured Poets Department ✤ Fortnight: Another fortnight lost in America

Tag List: @airwolf92– want to be added?

#amethyst andrews #ocappreciation #fyeahriverdaleocs #wayward daughter #(cast not your stone at the) wayward daughter #(child they're) seeking weakness tonight #amethyst x sweet pea #sweeta #ship: cosmic soulmates #amethyst x jughead #jamy #ship: king and lionheart #*tswift #*ttpd #my work #my edits #my gifs #my ocs #riverdale oc

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akariamai · 1 month

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Claws, Blades, and Botanical Love

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!OC

Word Count: 1642

“Where are we going?” Logan asked in a steely tone as Wade forcefully shoved him into the discolored and slightly wrecked stolen car. It had been a day since the small celebration of the multiverse was saved and now, Wade was forcing him into another adventure.

“Listen up, my little honey badger of doom and gloom, we’re about to inject some much-needed joy into those dead fish eyes of yours. Seriously, would it kill you to crack a smile for all the lovely readers out there? They’re lying in bed, wide awake, thinking about your mopey ass at 2 in the morning. Give ‘em a little something to dream about, will ya?” Wade finished with a boop on Logan’s nose.

“What the fuck are you yapping about?” Logan snapped, slamming his fist onto the headliner of the car.

“Chill your claws, Logan. So there I was, doing my little multiverse hopscotch, trying to find the you that’s not you but is still you—don’t think too hard about it. And guess what? Every single one of you grumpy furballs has the same weak spot. I mean, color me shocked when I find out Wolverine’s out here simping hardcore for a mutant angel, Mother Nature herself with all her leafy green goddess vibes.” Wade paused, turning the engine on, before continuing, “And oh, wouldn’t you know it? She’s your soulmate, bub. Yep, the big bad Wolverine falling head over claws for Mother Earth. Who knew you had it in ya? And for my grand finale after saving the multiverse, I asked the TVA to track down your leafy soulmate right here in this universe. I know, I’m a hero. Now, where’s my applause, Logan? Or, you know, a little thank you pegging wouldn’t hurt either. Your call!”

Logan absorbed the information in silence. He gripped the side of his seat, knuckles turning white and claws threatening to come out, as the weight of the words spoken sank in. His breath hitched — a soulmate. The concept circled around his mind, relentless and overwhelming. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but the car seemed to close in on him. A soulmate. His soulmate. The thought pounded in his skull, echoing louder with each beat of his heart.

His eyes darted from one side of the car to the other, unfocused, as his breathing quickened. Every face he’d ever known flashed through his mind— mutants, friends, enemies— all blurring together in a desperate search. He released his grip on his seat to only grip it tighter, digging deep into his memory, trying to pinpoint who it could be. Who from his world could possibly be the one.

“Oh, I can practically hear the gears grinding in your noggin, Wolfie. Relax, it’s not like you’ve missed out on a soulmate meet-and-greet. You never met them in your universe—they kicked the bucket before your paths ever crossed. Just like the Logan of this universe bit the dust before he got his chance to meet them. So, no need to lose any more sleep over it, bub.” Wade reached into the hidden compartment of the car and handed Logan to file. “Alright, feast your eyes on this bad boy—it’s got all the juicy deets about your little sweet pea right here. Buckle up, Logan, it’s time to dive into the love story of the century!”

Logan’s fingers hover over the file, trembling slightly. He shallowed hard, his throat dry as he stared holes at it. His breath came in uneven gasps. The file lay heavy in his hands, a stark contrast to his tight grip as if it might burst into flames of open with a truth he wasn’t ready to face. He became a monster after the death of his friends — his family — a vicious and heartless animal with no regard for human life. He had a fiery temper and alcoholic tendencies. He hesitated, his eyes darting to and from the file, each movement slow and deliberate, as if he were bracing himself for impact.

The file contained a possible future, a future he was not worthy for, but he was a selfish man who wanted nothing more than peace. Once the file was opened, his eyes were drawn to a picture of a gardener, Flora Winters.

Flora was the right mix of grit and grace. She had this magnetic way of commanding the camera’s attention, her presence effortlessly filling the frame with a blend of strength and elegance. There was a subtle, almost intangible quality that made her stand out.

“Hey, Earth to Perve, are you done giving her the ol’ eyeball striptease yet? You haven’t even met her and you’re already panting like a dog left out in the summer sun all day. I can only guess what’ll happen when you’re actually in the same room. Actually, I can totally imagine it— and if you don’t mind, I’d love to join in on the bedroom fun!”

~~~

Flora Winters spends the day slicing into the strawberries she’s grown in her greenhouse, experimenting with different recipes to find the one that’ll make her taste buds dance. She plans to sell them alongside the rest of her crops. Her life is mostly mundane, except for the occasional boost she gives her plants with her powers.

She senses a subtle tremor in the grass—a quiet warning from the trees that someone is near, getting closer. She feels the presence of two individuals stepping onto her porch, brushing against the ivy draped from the roof, ready to knock on her door.

Cracking the door open just enough to peek out, she narrows her eyes at the two men standing there. “What do you want?” she asks, taking in their ridiculous outfits. One is decked out in a red-and-black bodysuit that looks like a walking dildo, complete with a mask that only leaves his bug-eyed lenses visible. The other guy’s in a yellow-and-blue getup that looks straight out of a comic book, his muscles practically bulging out of the suit. They look like they’re about to audition for the weirdest superhero team ever.

Logan’s heightened senses pick up a scent that calms the raging animal inside him. It’s subtle—like the earth after rain, mixed with blooming flowers and a hint of something uniquely her. For the first time in what feels like forever, a deep sense of peace settles over him, like he’s found something he didn’t even know he was searching for. Every instinct tells him he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

Wade practically bounces on his heels. “This is it, bub! Your happily-ever-after, complete with a side of rosebuds and thorns.”

Logan shoots Wade a withering glare. “Shut up!”

But Wade, being Wade, ignores him and keeps running his mouth. “So, Flora, you should know—Logan here is a real softy under all that muscle. Sure, he’s got the claws and hair of a kitty and the whole brooding loner vibe down pat, but deep down, he’s a big ol’ teddy bear. Just don’t tell him I said that. Anyway, I’ll just leave him here and pick him up after this little playdate.”

Flora’s eyes flicker between the two, her brow furrowing as she narrows her gaze. The walking dildo keeps yapping nonsense. The vines hanging from the roof pulse with energy, eager for her command to snap into action. The thought of wrapping those vines around these idiots and flinging them far from her home is very tempting. It would be so easy.

Her eyes dart to the door—a simple barrier she could slam shut if they don’t retaliate. She hears the dildo’s yapping and the other guy’s low growling. They’re not really a threat, more like oversized children.

“Enough with your childish bickering. I want names. Who the fuck are you, how do you know my name, and what do you want?”

Wade starts to speak, but Logan cuts him off, his voice low and growling. “The moron here thinks we’re soulmates.”

Wade jumps back in, grinning. “The TVA stamped it, laminated it, and probably put it in a scrapbook labeled ‘Destined Couples of the Multiverse.’ Ain’t love just precious—like a rabid wolverine with a bowtie! So, congrats, lovebirds. Now kiss, fight, or do both. I’m just hyped to see good ol’ Logan drop the whole grumpy routine and maybe—just maybe—stop looking like he’s got a permanent wedgie. Fingers crossed he cracks a smile without breaking a mirror.”

Flora crosses her arms and tunes out the rest of the nonsense. The vines behind the two men sway towards them like serpents, coiling around their bodies and lifting them off the porch. With a flick of her wrist, the vines hurl the intruders as far as possible from her farm. She hears their screams fade as she calmly shuts the door, ignoring whatever mess is happening outside.

Wade and Logan watch the farm grow smaller and smaller until it vanishes behind the trees. Logan lands flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him, silently cursing Wade for dragging him into this. Wade, not as lucky, ends up impaled on a lonely tree stump. “Motherfucker.”

Logan gasps, “That went well.”

Wade pulls himself off the stump, glaring at his ruined suit. “I knew I should’ve handled the chit-chat! This is what happens when you let amateurs do the smooth talkin’—awkward silences and cringe-level dialogue. Next time, leave the witty banter to the pros—me.” He points at himself with both thumbs before inspecting the lacerations in his suit. “Well, there goes my uniform! Ruined! You know how hard it is to play arts and crafts with my own skin-tight, butt-hugging suit? This is what my life has come to—reconstructing fashion disasters caused by homicidal landscaping and that damn Vine Vixen.”

Masterlist

#deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #wade wilson #logan howlett #hugh jackman #ryan reynolds #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #wolverine x fem!reader

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icedmatchatae · 1 year

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Good for Me | KTH

Pairing: Bad Boy Taehyung x Wholesome Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, PWP (porn with plot LMAO),

Summary: You went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

Warning: OC’s parents are those strict nosy parents who still tell you what to do even if you’re 50 years+, mentions of Christianity hfrowhouw SUE ME, i have no idea what oc and tae are but you know there’s something, mentions of violence, blood, fighting, sneaky sneaky, dom tae x subby reader but tae is needy and whipped for her, he’s just a little shit, tae has a favorite curse word—it’s fuck, TAEHYUNG IS HUGE AND HUNG, aggressive handling (but oc consented), degradation/praise combo, pet names (because I’m a simp), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, spanking, tae enjoys seeing oc cry, licking, i think i have an obsession with orgasm control/denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), cream pie, cum play, the ending though MWAHAHAHAH

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: I’m adding on for the taewhores and also wrote one lol BLAME THE FUCKING ELLE COVERS BECAUSE THIS SHOT OUT OF MY BLEEDING VAGINA DJDBDBSB I’M REPENTING AFTER THIS also cross-posted on AO3. Posting this at 2AM because that's when the feral wolf comes out :D

“You know ___, you shouldn’t be going out and partying. What if you do drugs and we don’t know? You know you should focus on yo—”

“Dad, for the last time, I’ve been focusing on my studies.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting a whole ‘nother lecture when you’re here, and you got here today! “I rarely go out too, plus if I do, I know I have to finish my work! You’ve seen my grades!”

“Yes, I know but still. Those worldly activities won’t get you anywhere in life but trouble.” Your dad expressed his continuous concern for you. He can’t help that you were his youngest. “Especially with boys! I mean your sisters have boyfriends but we don’t want that for y—”

“Dad, please. Nothing’s going on with me.” You semi-lied. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you stared exhaustingly at him. “It’s also not fair, but I don’t want to get into that.” You muttered under your breath as your father rested his hands on his hips.

“I’m just worried about you, sweet pea, especially since you’re farther away from us than your sisters were.” He reasoned worryingly. “We rarely hear from you too.”

“Because I’m just tired and I’m usually studying.” You shrugged. “I’m safe, okay? If I’m not, I know to call you or mom.”

“Fine…” He still didn’t look convinced, but it was enough to end it…for today only. “I always pray for your safety regardless. You should get some sleep since we’re waking up early tomorrow for the church fellowship.”

“I still don’t know why you wanted me to come for the weekend.” It was random and unexpected. But your father called you a couple of days back telling you to come back home for the weekend, so as a good and obedient daughter, you did.

“Of course, you needed to come.” He said like it was obvious. “As the pastor of the church and the one who’s hosting it, I’d like all my children to come.”

“But why aren’t the other two here?” You questioned. You haven’t seen your two older sisters yet.

“I mean they live around the area, unlike you since you’re hours away. We figured that they’ll meet us over there.” He responded.

Great, you were the only one and had to deal with both of your parents for the entire weekend alone. At least your mom was already sleeping, but once she wakes up, it’ll only be twice as worse.

“Alright, well, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” You announced before hugging him. “Good night, love you.”

“Love you too, sweet pea, and remember, dear, the Lord is watching.” Your father pointed upwards, indicating the invisible yet existent one. You gulped before nodding obediently and going under your sheets. Before he left your room, he held the doorknob and said, “No boys, and don’t forget to pray!”

“Okay.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you were situating yourself comfortably in bed. The bedroom lights were clicked off, yet the only light source was your bedside lamp. You heard your door closed shut and the sounds of his heavy footsteps disappeared away from your room before letting out a relieving sigh.

You don’t even know how long you could keep like this. There were many reasons why you wanted to be away for college, and this was one of them. You cheered yourself on right now, knowing that it’s just this weekend and you’ll be back in your freedom in no time.

This was where prayer came in handy, asking for the amount of strength and patience you’ll need with your parents. But it was all interrupted by the blue light and vibrations coming from your phone resting on your nightstand. This sigh you let out was more exasperated than before. You turned your head in that direction. You couldn’t really what was on it at this angle, but you definitely knew who it was.

You snatched your phone to find the 43 messages, 12 missed calls, and 2 voicemails from the one and only Kim Taehyung.

You honestly don’t know how you got into this mess, or how you weren’t able to get him away (probably because you still wanted him to be within reach). But the cycle continued.

It was probably because you were new to that town, having no background about your new hometown, and usually, those who lived there continued to stay there. You were fresh meat. But don’t get it wrong, people were nice and brought you in like you were always part of the community. You found new friends, even living with a girl who treated you so sweetly and caringly. It almost felt like they wanted to protect you from something…or rather someone.

That happened to be Taehyung.

You see here, folks. Kim Taehyung had a…infamous reputation. His name always got a reaction since the day he came into the world. What that meant was people were afraid of him. He grew up as a delinquent, had some family issues, got into loads of trouble, got suspended from school, was shipped to boarding school but got expelled and came back, and even got into countless fights. You recalled someone mentioning he once beaten his teacher up because he got a low grade that he shouldn’t have deserved.

He tended to get what he wanted. It didn’t help the fact that he came from a pretty well-off family, so whatever he did, it didn’t reach the police. Right? Fucking rich people.

Nevertheless, Taehyung’s behavior with or without his familial status was rogue. There have been rumors about him getting into gangs, drugs, you know the typical dark side of society. You couldn’t confirm nor deny it because despite his willingness to tell you, you never wanted to hear anything about it. Ignorance was bliss under this circumstance.

With that being said, when you first came here, you were instantly warned to stay away from him or else…You reasoned with, “or else what?” But then they proceeded to say the same things to you—he was dangerous, he harms others, he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, if you’re in his way, he’ll wipe your entire existence away, and your life would get fucked up.

You did in fact listen and stayed away. You rarely knew of him or even saw him around, but it was better safe than sorry. Of course, fate begged to differ.

Oh, that’s right. That’s how you got into this mess. You were partners with him in a general requirement course, and then after briefly talking to him, you realized he wasn’t all that bad.

First off, the dude was immaculate looking, like, who wouldn’t want to stare at his chiseled features? Yeah, he stared intensely almost like he wanted to kill you, but it affected you in other ways. His voice was cavernous and velvet like you wanted him to read the Bible to you.

He looked annoyed, yet he was a chill dude. There you thought—give him a chance and a break.

Oh boy, you thought wrong. So so wrong.

But did you love it? Absolutely.

This was why you needed to repent.

You didn’t even bother reading his texts. You decided to call him and annoyingly sat up from your comfortable position. The call didn’t even ring twice because, after the first one, he answered immediately.

“Petal, where the fuck are you?” He shouted through the phone. You squinted to yourself but weren’t as affected by his tone since you were used to it by now.

“I went home for the weekend.” You simply replied.

“And didn’t fucking bother to tell me?”

“It was a last-minute thing, and it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, then you pulled your blankets off of you to get up and habitually pace around the room while you talked. “Plus, you don’t have any authority to know where I am.”

“I absolutely do have the authority whether you like it or not.”

“Ew, red flag, why?”

“I need to know if you’re safe.” His voice subsided this time, knowing he was probably pouting yet you couldn’t see it. Okay, this was rather valid since you were associated with the bad boy of the town.

“Well, I am safe. I’m away from school and all of that.” You blushed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. “I’m with my parents too. My holy parents, might I add.”

“Right, holy parents and your holy sisters who got married to other holy men.” You could hear the sarcasm leaving his mouth. “Yet there’s nothing holy about their slutty little girl and the man that’s been fucking her to hell.”

“Shhhhh, don’t say stuff like that, Taehyung!” You whisperingly yelled as you stopped your pacing to clench your legs together. You always hated how much of a potty mouth he was. Though you internally loved it. “You know I don’t like that.”

“Come on, Petal. I’m just lightening up my mood, especially since you left me.”

“I won’t be gone for that long. It’s only the weekend, and I’ll be back in no time.” You resumed your pace before standing in front of your window with your back facing it.

“That’s too long for me to not have you.”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do!”

“You can come back, Petal.”

“No, I can’t!” You shook your head. “My parents will get mad if I leave, for a boy too.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to let you take.”

“Taetae, no!” You were trying to stand your ground. You already had four lectures with your parents, you can’t argue with him right now. “I need to sleep, it’s getting late too!”

Though his heart fluttered at the use of the nickname, he was getting pissed off that you weren’t being a good girl for him. “Babydoll, be careful with your words. I’m warning you.” His voice went an octave down, shocking your body especially your cunt. Even hundreds of kilometers away, he had such a powerful effect on you.

“I am being careful! With everything. Now please, I have to get up early tomorrow. Good night, okay Taetae? I’m sorry.” You rushed your words in fear that you were getting too loud that your parents might hear.

“This isn’t ov—” You didn’t let him finish because you decided that this conversation was over. You didn’t want to get into trouble on both ends, but your parents scared you more than him. They’ll probably want to purify you if they found out you were stained by the lustful demon-like Taehyung.

Despite ending the call, here came Taehyung calling you over and over again. You could not be bothered with it, so you settled it back onto your nightstand. You were exhausted, frustrated, and horny, but sleep was above all right now. You had to bite your tongue and go to bed.

You were about to get back into your sheets when suddenly your window from the second level of the house opened, and a gust of wind pushed its way inside. Your head snapped back at the speed of light, then a large palm covered your entire mouth before you could scream your heart out.

Though in low light, your wild widened eyes saw his face. But what sparked you was his concerning appearance. While disheveled ebony hair was pushed back with little strands falling off his forehead, yet there was a deep cut with dried-up blood around its corners. Hues of purple and yellow covered his rich eyes that gleamed in the night whilst glaring deeply into your soul. The perfect bridge of his curved nose had another pained gash. His ever-so-plumped lips were peeled and split open and the corner of his mouth held bruising. Despite all, he looked so perfect in your dazed eyes.

“Good night, okay Taetae?” At a lower volume, he mimicked your voice at a higher pitch than how you actually sounded. He dropped his hand off of you and started waving both hands around. “Oh, look, I’m ___. I need my rest to go to church with my pastor dad and repent all the nasty shit I do with my Taetae.”

You didn’t even bother to point out how he was inaccurately impersonating you because you were shushing him to shut up. “Taehyung, be quiet. My parents could hear you.” You shook your head, eyes shifting from the closed door to him. Then you realized it wasn’t locked, so you rushed there to lock it immediately. You checked the knob and once it didn’t budge, you peered back at the frustrated man standing tall and intimidating. “How did you even find me?”

“I always find you.” He snorted as his eyes roamed around your childhood bedroom. Very pink with an unhealthy amount of plushies scattered around and you had so many pictures of your family. Not to mention the Bible at your desk. “We also share each other’s location.”

“I don’t even look at yours.”

“That’s your fault.” He retorted back.

“Taetae, you’re all bruised up!” You gasped as you finally saw patches of blood stains on his denim and army fabric jacket. A sleeve was torn and ripped. His knuckles held more bruising cuts and discoloration. You couldn’t even process that he had no shirt underneath because battered markings painted his torso. It wasn’t unusual to see him like this because these things occurred regularly but never made you less at ease. You reached for his hands and inspected for any other cuts and bleeding. “Noo, do you feel like you have a concussion? Is your head also okay? Will you need stitches agai—“

Out of nowhere, his long fingers grasped under your jaw, pulling you closer to his face. His grip tightened, causing you to wince in pain. Dang, he was so furious. Not bothering to answer you, he interrupted your worries. “Now the fuck you were doing, talking back at me and hanging up? You’re not being a good girl right now.”

Though you were in a light panic for him, you didn’t like when he scolded you like that. You frowned profoundly, “I-I’m a good girl, Taetae.” Your cheeks were puffed and squishy, he even struggled to put a hard exterior.

You were always so soft even before him. You didn’t like getting scolded despite hearing numerous lectures from your parents. You always wanted to be obedient to those you loved.

However, Taehyung’s scoldings hit a little differently.

“Oh yeah, does a good girl leave their man without permission?” Taehyung patronized you, he knew how to get you to fear him. You merely shook your head and apologized, but he wasn’t having it. “Words, Petal. Speak up.”

“No, they don’t. I-I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

He lets out a dark chuckle before he pressed his injured lips to your forehead. They felt soft and warm on your skin. “I don’t think you’re sorry, babydoll. Seems like the bad girl needs to be punished.”

You shook your head, lips pushing out into a pout. “No, please.” You breathed. “My paren—”

Taehyung tutted and rolled his eyes before using the hand that held your face to coerce your head down so you can drop down to your knees. “Kneel before me, slut.”

You whimpered weakly as your knees landed on the ground with a loud thud. Your palmed rested in front of his dirtied boots. Your heart palpitated fast in fear of getting caught, but your mind was preoccupied with the unexpected slap from the man before you.

You bit your lips deeply, trying not to make any more sounds. The tears in your eyes threatened to be released but you also held back by squeezing your eyes shut. More so to not give Taehyung satisfaction. But when you peeled them back open and looked up, it was over for you.

He leered down at you, his stone demeanor expanded by the second. You noticed his naked chest raising harshly from the breaths he took. You immediately felt smaller and smaller the longer you stared at each other in this position.

“Be a good girl and take my cock out”. He commanded as he threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked you closer. “Now.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer. Your trembling hands tugged his belt off. You tried your best to quicken up the pace, but it seemed to hold you back as you struggled with the button pants and zipper. Taehyung noticed too so he fastened his grip on you to tell you to hurry up, making you weep.

“S-sorry.” You apologized quietly but it wasn’t enough for him. Once you pulled his pants down, you were met with a familiar bulge in his underwear. When you freed him, his monstrous dick slapped his toned stomach and bounced before you.

Taehyung never failed to amaze you with how colossal he was. The first time you saw it you wanted to run away, but he caught you and you got hooked. His darkened mushroom head was huge while the base was thick and his curved length was long and veiny. It was the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and seemed that God blessed him very well.

Nothing happened between the two of you yet but the slit of his tip pearled fluids. You gawked agape with your mouth parted and tongue swiping your lips. His dick twitched, waiting for you to do something but you were too mesmerized.

Impatiently, using his unoccupied hand, he seized your jaw again, keeping your mouth open. “You’re fucking taking too long.” It didn’t take him long to bring your lips to his cock and push all of him in one motion.

You let out a muffled cry with watery eyes. If the tears fell before, they sure did now. Your throat muscles throbbed around him from the unexpected slamming. You gagged painfully, especially since his blunt head hit the back of your throat. Your mouth produced trickling drool all over him and down your chin. You were by no means prepared, but Taehyung didn’t seem bothered as he began his harsh pace.

You held onto his muscular thighs. You were crying so much but your sobs were smothered by the cruel thrusts of his rabid cock. Despite the sting, the actions sent a flood to your thin underwear. The familiar warmth covered your stomach, clenching your thighs together for some pressure on your poor leaking cunt.

“Fuck, Petal. Shit.” He cursed lowly. His cavernous moans echoed through the air. “Look at me.” His order sounded like a threat. He stopped his movements; his cock halfway in your mouth. When you opened your heavy lids, he looked so hot and bothered even in your blurry vision. “My pretty girl.” His thumb wiped off the trail of tears.

You were always pretty in his eyes, smiling, and laughing, even when you get angry at his annoying ass. But he especially thought you were pretty when he made you cry like this.

Then he went back to bobbing your head brutally on him. Your nails scratched his thighs, leaving indents on them. You retched again, spit drenching all over him. “Fucking amazing for a slut like you. Is this what you wanted, since you’re a fucking bad girl?”

You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t so you shook your head and whimpered. You weren’t a bad girl. You were good!

You were getting lightheaded, feeling so stuffed to even breathe. Taehyung observed your face getting a little pale. You always forgot to learn how to breathe when giving him a blow job.

He pressed into you once more and a bit longer than usual, so he can imprint the feeling of your mouth again into his spank bank. He ultimately pulled out, leaving a long string of drool from his tip to your crimson lips. His dick covered in your sweet saliva.

You heaved profoundly and wept here and there. You wanted to tell him off, but you were too scared to say anything. You pushed the tears away with the back of your hand and gulped your words but it pained you to do that.

“God, you’re messy,” He laughed cynically at you. “Aww, you’re upset, babydoll?” He asked condescendingly.

“N-no,” You sniffed, trying your best to be strong. “I’m not.”

“Good, you better not.” He said, letting go of your hair. “Stand up.”

This time you were swift on your feet. Though with painful reddened knees, you stood up wobbly and held Taehyung’s biceps for some support. He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you to be chest to chest with him.

Being like this, you saw how he towered over you. The height difference wasn’t compared to a gremlin and the Incredible Hulk but he was still way taller than you. He absorbed your appearance, finally taking in how you wore a cute brown bear pajama shirt and matching shorts. The fresh aroma of roses from your body wash and your natural scent swirling into his nostrils sent his pheromones into a frenzy. He wanted you so badly.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you while your parents are sleeping?” His hot breath splashed your face, fluttering you into submission. You unconsciously nodded excitingly but it caused him to tut at you. “I’m not gonna tell you again. Exact words, babydoll.”

“Yes!” You shouted too quickly that only after you caught yourself, covering your mouth with your palms. He smirked at your reaction—so needy for him. Just the way he loved it. Your hands slowly traveled to his shoulders as you batted your beautiful irises at him. You didn’t like swearing, but it came often when you were with him alone. “Uhh, p-please f-fuck me. I’m your good girl, Taetae.”

The perfect answer.

He bent down to peck the tip of your nose then went further down to lick the trunk of your neck. He picked a spot before suckling around to mark his territory. You mewled at the sensation, slithering your arms around his nape. He began moving towards your bed while you stepped back, following his lead until you fell back onto the sheets of your mattress. Your back rested while your legs hung at the edge of the bed.

Your unapologetic eyes wandered his frame.

He kicked his pants and boots off his ankles, leaving him in only his jacket. But even that, he took off. The faded and lighter scars sprawled his torso, showing evidence of fights and brawls through the years. The fresher wounds battered his rough skin and once you saw gauges wrapped around his right hip with blood patches seeping through, you sat up straight with pupils dilated.

“Taehyung, your—”

“I didn’t tell you to speak,” He growled, and stalked to the bed before pushing your shoulder roughly to lay back down. Your body bounced, trying to process what was happening but he tugged your shorts and panties down and off your skin.

He kneeled in front of you, callous palms spreading your thighs apart to reveal your leaking puffy pussy. He didn’t even touch you and you were this soaked. He inhaled deeply, taking in your sweet essence.

Jesus Christ, you were always embarrassed when he did that. It was like his human nature devolved into animalistic instincts. His mouth had a mind of its own, nibbling your inner thighs and placing even more marks on you like he wanted to claim you. You gasped quietly, jerking a little. So sensitive as always. His thumbs stretched your nether lips apart, revealing more of you to him. The petals of your sex opened for him. Your little hole throbbing around nothing but secreted so much wetness, even spotted your tiny clit inflamed, begging to be touched.

But to your luck, Taehyung wasn’t the type to get on with it right away…well he can, but most of the time, he chose not to. No, sir, he took his time with you, to the point you had to drop your pride and beg. His fingers lightly caressed your sex, enough for you to feel it but do no pleasure.

“Tae,” You whined, hands reaching for him but he swatted them away.

“Don’t touch me, put them on your sides.” He seethed through his teeth.

“But—”

Smack! The slap stung your cunt, making you welp loudly. He does another and your head turned to the side. You cried, pressing your face into your blankets. Taehyung continued hitting your pussy until it was red and sensitive.

“Naughty girl!” He slapped your lips once more, jolting your feeble body. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You think just because you’re with your family that you forgot all the rules we had, hm??”

“N-n-no.” You sobbed, shaking your head cowardly. “I promise I reme—”

A knock came on your bedroom door.

Both of your heads shot toward the direction with wide eyes. Another knock happened again before the person on the other end said, “___?” Another knock. “Sweet pea, I heard noises. Are you good?” Then the fucking knob jiggled, but fortunately, you locked it. “Why’d you lock the door? What are you doing?”

Shoot, it was your dad. Your pastor dad. Now your heart was heavy and dropped down to your uneasy stomach. You needed to say something quickly, but no words came out. You shifted to see Taehyung who shrugged and smirked devilishly, leaving you to fend for yourself.

It was only until your dad said, “Do I need to use the spare keys to open the door?” That you spoke up.

“No! I’m good, I just…I accidentally dropped my phone on my face.” You lied, praying he’d buy it.

“You and your dang phone.” He complained through the door. Taehyung’s mouth went wide with silent laughter hearing you get scolded. You pursed your lips, shaking your head. He was no help at all because there was a gleam of mischief and it wasn’t a good sign at all. “You need to get off of that thing, sweet pea. You won’t have enough sleep. Remember you’re joining the praise team in the morning.”

“Yes, dad! I know. I’m sorry to—unghhh.” Your sentence was interrupted by the sudden breach from Taehyung’s two long fingers sliding in so smoothly into your cunt.

“___? ___, are you okay?” Your dad questioned as he continuously knocked on your door.

It didn’t take long for Taehyung to find your g-spot, curling his fingers to muscle memory. His digits pumped into you, and at times, he thumbed your clit. He had your eyes rolling back and biting your lips to stop your struggling whimpers. “I-I’m f-fine right now. D-d-ahh worry!”

“Are you sure you’re fine? You sound like you’re in pain.”

Taehyung dived into your pussy, taking a long lick before wrapping his lips around your sensitive nub. The tips of his fingers did their magic hitting your insides, playing with the squish of immense ecstasy.

You shrieked involuntarily, fisting the blankets under you as you threw your head back. “Yes, I’m fine!” You groaned distressingly. “I-I’m so…touched by my prayer before sleeping.” You swore faintly when Taehyung suckled and flattened his tongue on your clit.

“Prayer to the Lord is always so emotional, sweet pea.” Your father pointed out, but you really didn’t give a shit. “Alright, don’t want to disturb your time. Hope you get some sleep soon though. Good night.”

His footsteps faded away and you mentally cheered that you didn’t get caught, but you had sudden guilt that you basically spoke to your father with a guy eating you out.

Taehyung released his mouth off you to see how you appeared, crumbling at his touch. Your face wrinkled together with your mouth parted, and you saying his name with your pretty voice had his aching cock twitching. He reached over to the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your soft bare breasts and hardened nipples. “Such a pretty girl. Touched by the prayer? No, no, I’m the one you should be praying to.”

“D-don’t say that.” You moaned he knew you were very much in tune with your spirituality but he also liked to mess around with you.

“Why, Petal? You don’t like what I say, hmm?” He pouted mockingly, pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped, digging your head into the mattress. “I’ll give you everything that you want.” These blankets did no justice, you needed to hold onto him. You put your hand out, silently asking to hold him. Taehyung was mean but he wasn’t that mean…at least not today, so he accepted your request and intertwined his vacant hand with yours.

He felt your cunt getting tighter, understanding what was about to happen. Well, remember how Taehyung wasn’t that mean? That statement was taken back because he said, “Don’t come until I say so.”

You whined, giving your best doe-eyes and pinkest pout. “Please, Taetae. Wanna cum.”

Without removing any touch of you, he stood from his feet before covering your entire body with his large one. His face leaned down until your noses touched. “No.” He simply replied, yet his pace wasn’t slowing down. “Hold it.”

Your eyes twitched, wrestling to keep your orgasm under control. He always loved to play with you like this. You attempted to stabilize your breathing, deep and slow breaths. In…and out. In…and out. Yeah, this wasn’t working when Taehyung’s four-inch fingers were jamming into you. The pressure in your stomach tightened, clenching your abdominals to get your reach. It wasn’t a good girl thing to do, but he was mean!

“Can’t! Please!” You begged once more, knowing it couldn’t be stopped.

“No, be a good girl.”

Sorry, Taehyung but it was too late. Your eyes were already going to the back of your head, and you were prepared for the high of it all. But once you started arching your back, he pulled his fingers and hand away from you. You still had your orgasm but it felt so weak going through it without him helping you come down. Your pussy burned unpleasantly.

He glared at you, watching your lousy orgasm go to waste. All because you didn’t listen to him. But whose fault was that? Taehyung will never take the blame.

Pathetically unsatisfied, you came down and exhaled. It physically and emotionally pained you how shitty that orgasm was. And with a pissed-off Taehyung looming over you, it’ll be torture.

“Bad, bad girl.” Taehyung was disappointed at you, something you grimaced over. “I told you not to but you didn’t it anyway.”

“I couldn’t stop it…” You whispered.

“Couldn’t stop yourself? You really are a fucking slutty bad girl.” Getting slightly self-conscious from his jeering eyes, you closed your legs and covered your chest. Your face flushed with post-orgasm and shame.

Taehyung saw your actions, softening his tough demeanor. He lifted you to the middle of the bed before climbing over your concealed body. At this angle, the moonlight struck his body. Every muscle and indent defined, every wound and bruise visible, every part of him shined so beautifully and perfectly.

His knees spread your legs open to go in between while carefully pulling your arms off your chest. His face goes down to yours, planting little kisses all over your face in hopes he doesn’t make you feel too bad. “Tell me if I go too far, Petal. Don’t hide from me.”

You shook your head, “You’re not. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’ll be good, I promise.”

You were soooo good to him. He smiled tenderly, pecking another on the tip of your nose before the demon smirk came back. “Then you’re still gonna get it. Get on your knees.”

You nodded and were about to twist your body when Taehyung grasped your waist and flipped you over. He pushed down your back, arching your ass up before landing a loud slap to it. You cried into the pillow, hugging it as if it was like your protection. He slapped the other cheek, receiving another reaction from you.

“Since you’re weak at controlling yourself,” He grabbed his thick length. His head played with you, gliding across the slit and collecting your saturation until he aligned it with your hole. He puts a little bit of pressure, enough to make you moan for more but then stopped. “Maybe I should punish you by giving more than what you can handle.”

That was…even worse. But you had to accept it, so you could be the good girl for him.

Knowing he could maim you, he steadily filled you up. You felt every inch of him getting deeper and deeper inside, the stretch of your pussy left a dull ache. He held your hips as he guided himself in. Once he bottomed out, the both of you let out a sigh of relief. Every time you do this, it always felt like the first time because of how big he was.

“So fucking tight, Petal.” He hissed. The sensation of you pulsating had his head thrown back.

After a while, the two of you knew it was time for him to move. Taehyung pulled himself back, leaving his head and then piercing back in. You jolted forward, but he kept you firmly to continue his aggressive yet even pace. Each penetration to your spot left you wailing into the pillow, gripping its covers. The slapping of your skin resonated in your childhood bedroom, the only sound that could be heard other than Taehyung’s heavy breathing and your keens.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Taehyung asked lowly before speeding up his movements, making you louder in the cushion. When he didn’t get the answer that he wanted, he looped your hair around his hand and hauled your upper body until your back pressed to his sweaty chest. You winced in pain but you hooked an arm around his neck.

“I want—unggh, y-yes.” Tears fell on your cheeks. Your neck extended to the side, giving him full access to licking and sucking your skin. “A-am I being a—your good g-girl?”

“You’re such a fucking good girl, Petal. Fucking good girl.” He praised you, muffling into your neck. His other hand kneaded your boob, massaging your nipple between his appendages. You groaned at the added touch. The twist in your stomach rose, sensing another high coming soon. Taehyung noticed you tightening around his ramming shaft, so he slid his hand down to your clit and made circular motions. “Cream around my cock again. Come on, pray to me. Bless my name with your sweet sounds.”

“Taehyung, please, please, ahh.” You breathed heavily, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder. His length ravaged your insides and his fingers pinched your sensitivity until the knot released. You splashed with blistering ecstasy, almost about to scream at the top of your lungs but his palm covered your pitched sounds. You stifled chants of his name with your rolling eyes, even lapping your tongue over his callous. His thrusts slowed down this time, easing you down. He showered you with compliments, kissing your jaw and cheek.

Once you came back, he took himself out of you to lay you down. He needed to see your face clearly at least once. He grabbed himself and plunged in again. You keened in volume, but Taehyung shushed you. “Babydoll, be quiet. Don’t want your dad to exorcise the both of us.”

You nodded pliantly and slapped hands over your lips. He moved at his previous pace, yet your sensitivity increased after your two orgasms. You were overstimulated but pushed through to help him meet his climax. He handled your hips where it would leave bruises days after. He hunched over to your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling it with his tongue.

His touch was a mixture of all—needy, urgent, warm, cool, rough, and supple. You loved it all, you wanted more of him. You quivered into your palms, muting the uncontrollable noises escaping you.

He popped off your nub. His thrusts jerked faster and sloppier, recognizing how close he was. His resonant whimpers rung through your ears. It was like his thumb was magnetic to your clit because it was on you again and flicking rapidly. You shuttered, shaking your head at the intensity. It was too much. “One more for me, Petal. I wanna feel you, please.”

Darn, he said please. There was no way to deny him. After four more pumps, he buried himself still. He painted your insides white with his cum, whining your name. Meanwhile, you tirelessly came again. Blinding white spots came into your vision, ringing happened in your eardrums. The feeling of scorching euphoria spread all over your body as you curved your spine. Your hands were replaced with Taehyung’s mouth, sluggishly kissing you and keeping you as quiet as possible but let’s be real.

He kissed your lips once more before scooting in between your neck and shoulder to leave more smooches on your perspiring skin. His cum inside electrified you, feeling it flood around. It wasn’t until his softening dick pulled out of you, that the dam of cum seeped out your weeping pussy.

What an immaculate sight that he couldn’t resist.

Your energy-drained body thought it was over. But Taehyung had other plans because once you felt his tongue on your enlarged overloaded clit, you gasped in shock. “Taehyung, can’t anymore!” Your fingers attempted to push him off of you but you were too helpless and fatigued to overpower his strength.

He tasted the concoction of both of your cum, playing with the juice all over you and his mouth. He was addicted to the taste, vibrating another low moan to your clit.

You begged for him to stop, but he wasn’t going to finish until you came one more time. He lets go hastily and said, “Last one. Come on, Petal.”

Then there was your last orgasm. It was weaker than the previous, better than the first, but the most agonizing one. It burned but was so divine. You shoved your face into your cushion, crying away from every sensation and emotion you felt.

Taehyung was finally off of you and went up your body to kiss you again. But you were so lethargic, you couldn’t keep up and lay there like a Twinkie. You didn’t even comprehend how he walked out of your bedroom to look for the bathroom, knowing damn well your parents could see him.

But he made it back alive and unseen with a damp cloth to clean you up. He wiped you clean as you stared at him with so much endearment and swell to your heart even after pounding you like an animal.

After he was done cleaning, he threw the dirtied rag to the ground before climbing back in bed and putting the covers over your naked bodies. “You did so good, ___. My good girl, my favorite girl.” He pressed a kiss on your temple before you fell into slumber.

“___, wake up! We’re gonna be late!” Harsh knocks through your door disrupted your dreams. You groaned loudly, wanting to go back to sleep. “Sweet pea, get dressed!” It was your mom calling for you. You rubbed your eyes sluggishly in your raggedy state and rolled over. With squinting lids, you searched for your phone to check the time.

You overslept, and you panicked a bit. You kept your cool, it was fine. This was a small bump, but you’ll get over it.

Suddenly, something or someone shifted beside you. You turned your head before you were fully awake by your heart dropping down and coming out of your ass. A peaceful hibernating and naked Taehyung was by your side, cuddling your body. No wonder you woke up with furnace-like heat against you.

Immediately, you shot out of your bed to stand up but you completely forgot that after a night with Taehyung, you become temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. So you stood up and your feeble numb legs made you drop to the floor.

“___, are you awake? I heard a noise.” Your mom questioned again.

“Yeah,” you grimaced at how raspy your voice was. “I-I just woke up, I’m sorry.” You crawled towards the other side of the bed where Taehyung was.

“You have 30 minutes! I told you not to stay up late at night! You know…”

You tuned out her lecture because you were trying to wake Taehyung up in fear that you might get caught. “Taetae, wake up.” You were usually so gentle because it took him a while to fully get up but you slapped the shit out of him.

His eyes stammered open in surprise. He bolted awake and in pain. He was about to yell but you covered his mouth as you stared with alarming pupils. “It’s morning, my parents are awake. I need to get ready and you need to leave.”

“___! Are you listening to me? Do I need to open your door to get you ready?” Your mother complained, trying to open your door but it was still locked. “I’m getting the key—”

“No, mommy!” You protested. Both of your heads directed to the door with widened eyes. “I swear I’ll get ready. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Okay…I’m almost done with breakfast.” She announced.

You breathed out in relief, knowing you were clear for now. But once you looked over to the naked man still in your bed, you had another morning task to do. “You need to leave. If I don’t come out in five minutes to go get my teeth brushed, my parents will come to get me out.”

Usually, Taehyung would play around, but he knew this time meant business. He nodded obediently. You rolled away to give him some space to get out and gather his scattered clothes. As he was getting dressed, you watched him.

The bruises, the cuts, and that deep wound were all still there. It made you upset, frowning at the mere thoughts of what Taehyung dealt with before coming to see you. You never liked what business or situation he was in, you didn’t know fully but again, just by looking at it, it was not good.

Taehyung detected your staring, but he was surprised at your sad state. “What’s wrong, Petal?”

“I know I said I don’t wanna know what you do, but it won’t change the fact that I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” You explained. “I’m seeing all of this and I’m worried sick, Taetae.”

He sighed, putting his jacket back on then walking over to pick you up on your feet. You used him as leverage. You acted like a baby dear standing on its legs for the first time, making him chuckle at your struggling state but it was too adorable. “I’m sorry for worrying you. You probably wanted to know what happened and I’ll tell you more about it later, but let’s just say I’m trying to get out of the things.”

Your eyes sparkled with joy, “You are? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

He smiled and shook his head, “I’m not just saying that. I’m serious. I’ve been…in it for a long time but I’ve been also wanting to stop.” You nodded understandingly. “Wanna do this for myself, but for you. I don’t want any of them or other affiliations to find you and use you against our will. It’s not easy, hence why I arrived like this, but it’ll come to an end.”

“Okay,” You grinned sweetly before puckering your lips and waiting for him to come.

He leaned down and accepted you, He circled his arms around your body as he kissed you tenderly. He parted away, foreheads touching. “I’m gonna miss you, Petal.”

“As I said, it’ll only be this weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow night.” You reassured but it wasn’t enough to prevent the pout on his lips. “Come on.”

The two of you walked over to the window. He opened the pane as he prepared his descent. His legs were out hanging, his arms and torso still inside your room. You went over to give him one last kiss for his travels back.

“I’ll miss you too, Taehyung.” You giggled, captivating his entire heart.

Feeling overwhelmed with the thoughts and emotions of you, he blurted out, “I love you so much, ___.” It was the first time either of you said it, and he just realized what he said when his eyes grew the size of saucers and stared at him like he was insane. You were a fish, opening and closing your mouth with no words coming out. You didn’t know how to react, but you definitely felt your heart palpitating briskly.

Before you could finally say anything, he abruptly goes, “Okay, well, yeah bye. See you in psychology class.” He descended as fast as he could, trying to get away as possible. You didn’t even watch him out the window, which was a good thing for him as reached the ground. While walking away, he was mentally screaming at himself and fisting the air at what he did.

You were finally dressed and appropriate for church. You fixed the clip in your hair before walking out of your room and down the stairs. Yet your thoughts were elsewhere and about the boy who was in your room not too long ago.

He said I love you. The fucking bad boy of the town confessed his love for you. What the fuck? First of all, you weren’t even together. You didn’t know what you were, whatever. The only thing you knew was that Taehyung would beat the shit out of any guy that came your way. Second, it was an odd choice to say a confession after a sneaky night at your lover’s childhood house with their parents sleeping at the end of the hallway.

Thirdly, you knew what your feelings were but the little shit didn’t give you a chance to comprehend and tell your side. Ugh, now you have to deal with him opening up once you were back in town.

You reached the kitchen, greeting your parents. Your mom told you to take a seat as she prepared a plate for you. She glanced at you, then took another look intently yet you didn’t seem to notice.

Once seated, your father scrolled his phone for news and reread his notes for his sermon. He gazed up at you, then did a double take before raising an eyebrow yet you didn’t see his stare as your mom walked towards the table with your breakfast.

You were too busy looking down at the settled breakfast before to spot the questionable looks your parents made. Once you were about to devour your eggs and kimchi, your dad stopped you. “What were you doing last night?”

You blinked, “I was on my phone late at night, and did my emotional prayer, remember?” Your father hummed, nodding eerily calmly.

Then your mother spoke up as blunt and knowledgeable as she was. “Then why do you have hickeys all over your neck?”

A/N: There will NOT be a part two :D

#matcha masterlist #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader

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edsheeranong · 4 months

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sweet pea x fem oc

A/N- i've never written before and idk if anyone will even see this but pls be nice. i've also not really watched riverdale in many years so i'm trying to piece things together but it won't follow the plot very well.

-archie andrews twin sister, delilah, is fed up with him being overprotective. so when a cute serpent offers her an opportunity, she can't turn it down

"andrews," an unfamiliar voice called out. delilah hummed in response, not bothering to look who it was and instead continued piling notebooks out of her locker. "i hear your brother doesn't like you dating, he goes around and tells everyone not to go near you, 'or else'" the boy said.

"can i help you with something or...?" delilah said, closing her locker and looking at the boy.

"sweet pea," he extended his hand out to her. she readjusted the stack of book in her hands to shake his. "i've got a proposition for you," he stated.

"look, you wouldn't be the first boy to think he can get with me without my brother finding out," she started walking and followed her. "it never ends well."

"i think i can handle him," he stated. she turned to look at him and realized he had a point. he was incredibly tall and muscular. "but anyway that's not what i'm suggesting," he pulled her into an alcove. "i hate your brother, he thinks he's the shit and he keeps messing with southsiders."

"why are you telling me this?" she cut him off.

"i think we can help each other out," he said, resulting in a raised eyebrow from the girl. "you hate him for controlling you, i just hate him."

"okay, i don't hate my brother," she said.

"but you're fed up with him telling everyone not to go out with you?" he asked, and she sighed and murmured in agreement. "i'm suggesting a little revenge."

"why me?" she asked, he was getting annoyed at how she kept interrupting him.

"i'm probably the person your brother hates most, at least at this school. and i hate your brother so much, being with his sister would just kill him," he explained.

"'with' as in..." she said.

"dating," he clarified.

"let me get this straight, you want me to fake date you so you can get back at my brother for being a dick and i can get back at him for controlling my love life?"

"yep, pretty much," he shrugged.

"i'm still confused," she admitted. "if we're not actually together, you're not really getting back at him."

"if he believes we're together, then it's like i took something from him. he tries so hard to keep you away from guys, and his number one enemy being the one you defy him for. it'll make him go crazy."

"it'll make things worse, he's only gonna harass you more," delilah pointed out.

"once again, i can deal with him," he said. "just think about it," he walked away, leaving her to think.

she walked home alone and really thought about his proposal. she was fully on board with showing archie he couldn't control her, but she was scared of what he would do to sweet pea. it was all she thought about that entire night and she decided she just needed to sleep on it.

the entire next day she kept trying to find a time to talk to him but he was always with someone.

she was about to take it as a sign but as she was leaving school, she turned the corner and ran right into him. he grabbed her arm to stabilize her and raised his eyebrows at her.

"so?" he asked.

"i'm down," she told him. he smirked at her and they started walking. he led her to the back of the school where his bike was. he handed her his helmet and she hesitated before taking it.

"well it would be bad manners not to drive my girl home," he said, noticing her confused expression.

"okay hold up," she said as he mounted the bike. "i think we need to have a conversation about this."

"what is there to talk about?"

"uh, i don't know. how long are we gonna do this for?" she sat down on the ledge in front of him.

"until we decide we've had enough," he said.

"okay... how is this... gonna work?" she asked and he pondered for a moment.

"well, we should make sure archie sees us together, obviously. but we gotta keep this act up around other people too," he pulled his leg off his bike and stepped closer to her, putting his hands on her knees and spreading them so he could stand between them.

Sweet pea took the moment of silence to take a good look at her. he had seen her around school, of course, but it was always from a distance. her hair was usually messy, due to the loose curls in it.

but looking at her up close was different. her eyes were bright green and her skin was almost sickly pale. she had freckles littered about her face. she was a lot to take in. sweet pea knew he wouldn't have asked her if she wasn't at least a little bit attracted to her.

it shocked him how different she looked from her twin brother. he had bright red hair and dark eyes but her hair was pitch black and piercing green eyes.

"okay," she managed to finally get out. "i have some rules though."

"rules?" he threw his head back. "i don't really do rules."

"we get it, you're a bad boy," she rolled her eyes at him. "and yes i have rules. number one, we keep my dad out of this. he's been through a lot recently and i don't want to stress him out more," she waited for a sign be understood and when he nodded his head she continued. "number two, nothing too physical. i've never had a boyfriend before and i don't want all my firsts to be wasted on a boy-"

"like me?" he cut her off. "a serpent? a southsider?"

"who isn't actually my boyfriend," she finished, clearly annoyed.

"fine, but nobodies going to believe we're dating if i can't kiss you," he pointed out.

"you can kiss me, but i'm not doing anything more," she told him. "number three, you can't tell anyone this isn't real. if it got back to archie, neither of us would live to see another day."

"my lips are sealed," he said. "now if that's all..." he picked her up by her waist and gently placed her on the ground. "i think it's time we set the plan in motion," he gestured toward his bike.

"sure, but archie won't be home," she said as he placed the helmet on her head and messed with the straps.

"where will he be?" he got back on his bike and patted the space behind him.

"him and veronica go to pops every friday after school," she explained, carefully climbing on the bike. he grabbed her arms and placed them around his torso.

"then i guess i know where we're going," he started his bike. "hold on tight."

#riverdale #sweet pea #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fic #archie andrews #betty cooper #veronica lodge #fanfic #fanfiction #southside #southside serpents #northside #to all the boys i've loved before #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea riverdale

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yourjughead · 7 months

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Attack Dog pt 5

Sweet Pea X Reader enemies to lovers

Warnings: Fluff and smut

A/N: Final part.

-------------------------------

3rd person

“So YN, tell us who did that to you already!”

“Not a chance Kevin” you laughed, pulling your jumper closer into your neck, trying to cover what Sweet Pea left you with three nights earlier. Archie wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you through the corridor Monday morning.

“Kiss and tell YN, we'll keep your secret safe” you could only roll your eyes at him, knowing that would never happen. You didn't want to tell them what happened between Sweet Pea and you, you didn't really even understand it enough to explain. The only thing you understood was it made Jughead insanely uncomfortable and that alone made you insanely happy.

Sweet Pea POV

Jones and I didn't really speak after he stormed out of my trailer on Saturday morning. Man I wish I got a picture of his face at the sight of YN. Priceless.

We all sauntered up the school hallway, Jughead keeping his distance from me. I met her eyes midway through laughing at whatever her friends said as I passed. I didn't look for long, afraid if I did I'd have no choice but to pin her to the locker and finish what we started. I don't like seeing Archie hang off her, that should be my arm. I shook my head. I'm being crazy, it was a moment, these things happen. Won't happen again.

I swear it was like she was avoiding me after that. I didn't see her in the halls, I didn't see her class or after school for the rest of the week. I sat on my sofa thinking about what happened in this trailer a week earlier. What gives? A knock to the trailer door snapped me out of it.

“YN?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah wh-” she then pressed her hands into my chest, pushing me deeper into the trailer, catching and closing the front door with her foot. She pulled her shirt from over her head and stood in front of me in her bra and jeans. What is happening? What is happening?

“What is happening?”

“Fancy some stress relief Sweet Pea?” Oh hell yeah.

3rd person

Sweet Peas hands went straight to your hips, the feeling of small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had a week ago as his hands moved to cup your backside, lifting you from the floor to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Sweet Peas neck standing on their end.

“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck.

Sweet Pea carried you into his room before throwing you onto the bed. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.

“Sweet Pea if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us want”

“I want all of you”

Sweet Pea almost cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.

You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his jeans, his turn to groan.

You both began to rip the clothes from one another until you wrapped your legs around him to pulling him in closer. You both wanted every inch of skin to touch. His hand went from your chest, slowly sliding down to your inner thigh, teasingly.

Your fingers began dragging up and down his bare back before digging into his shoulders at the feeling of him entering you. You both let out a breathless moan at the sensation. You wrapped your legs around his torso at this while he placed his hands on your hips to steady himself. He slowly began dragging in and out before the sensation was too much and he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The sensations growing and growing and growing until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name making him go over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name. Sweet Pea collapsed on top of you before rolling over and hauling your shaking body to his.

“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Sweet Pea finally found some composure to rasp out. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest.

“Don't get shy on me now YN” he returned the laugh and you smiled, pulling the covers up around the both of you, tangling in your legs.

“YN…I'm never gonna not be in the Serpents”

“I know”

“But I also really like kissing you”

“I know”

“Can both be true at the same time?” You reached up towards him to meet his lips again.

“Are you still a Serpent now Snake brain?”

“....yeah?”

“Well I guess both can be true at the same time”

Sweet Pea POV

I loved being with her, even if we were keeping it on the quiet side. I felt like she was starting to understand the Serpents and maybe even appreciate them, even if it was still from afar. She would come and go from my home without notice and I loved every moment she was with me. The only thing I found hard was not screaming to the world she was mine and I was hers even though we decided to just be casual. If spending every moment we could together be called casual that is. Continuing on like we still hated each other in public became a bit of a game and a bit of a turn on. Watching other guys fawn over her though was definitely not.

I filled my locker with books I pretended to read as Jones stood next to me watching the world go by. We had kind of decided silently to forget what he thinks he saw between me and YN three months ago. If only he knew what happened that night had far and beyond escalated passed that.

“Fuck it” was all I heard from Jones before he sprung off the locker and towards YN. In one smooth moment he caught her by the arms as she walked past with Archie and pulled her into kiss him. Kiss him. YN is kissing him. Kissing him. It really felt like every single emotion possible coursed through me. I had no idea what my body was going to do. Was I going to vomit? Was I going to faint? No. I was having an out of body experience as I stood, walked over, caught Jones by the shoulders and flung him backwards with what strength my shocked state had and flew him into the locker I had just left. It felt like slow motion and then, it felt like motion sickness.

“Sweet Pea!” Was she shouting at me? I really felt like the earth wasn't under me and then it wasn't. Jones jumped from the ground and straight into me. If I wasn't in a daze he wouldn't have taken me off the ground but it felt like I was out at sea. We rolled around the floor, I dodge his hands and tried to push him off me. I didn't fight back, not even when he clipped my jaw, I probably deserve what's happening. YN was shouting at the two of us until Archie and Fangs hauled Jones from me, cursing out loud. Fangs might kill him for me. I sat up from the ground, the whole hallway's eyes on me and my bleeding lip. I found my sea legs take me running from the scene and out into the car park, YN hot on my heels.

“What the hell Sweet Pea?! That wasn't very casual!” I heard her shout from behind me, her voice echoing off the empty car park.

“What if I don't want to be casual anymore YN?! What if I never wanted to be?!” I could see this caught her off guard. I was finally thinking out loud.

“Finally, you were getting hard to read” was all she said with laugh before rushing to me, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me. Electricity returned. The ground beneath my feet returned to a solid state. We parted smiling, over her shoulder I saw our friends at the school entrance. Not a single face without shock or surprise. I couldn't care less.

“I guess I'm not the only attack dog in the relationship” she smiled, wiping the blood from my lip. Relationship, this was a relationship

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themultifandomgal · 5 months

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Sweet Pea- Grease Is The Word

You’re The The One That I Want

“Guys I have to leave in a bit” I say looking at the clock in Pops diner

“Oh come on YN you can’t leave yet” Fangs says holing Kevin’s hand

“She’s going cuz Sweet Pea ain’t here” Cheryl says

“No I’m not. I didn’t come here to see him”

“What you come for then?” Cheryl frowns

“I came because I was invited” I reply crossing my arms

“Cher I invited her” Toni says to her girlfriend

“I don’t know why. Isn’t Sweet Pea supposed to be like your best friend”

“Yeah but I like YN”

“Oh you do?”

“Jesus Cheryl what’s gotten into you this evening?” Betty asks

“Nothing”

“I think I’m just gonna go” I say standing up from the booth. As I do I see Sweet Pea walking into the diner “yeah definitely going to go”

“YN!” He says as I walk passed him and out the shop. What the hell do I do? I think as I make my way home. Yes I want to be with Sweet Pea, but we’re just 2 different kind of people.

That night all I can think of is how I’m, well me. Making my decision I phone up Cheryl and head over to her house the following morning

“So you want the boy” she says with her hands on her hips “let’s get started. Toni hand me a brush and my curlers we’ve got a lot of work to do”

“Hey!” I pout making Toni chuckle

“Cheryl takes fashion very seriously. So clothes wise what do you want to wear?”

“I wanna wear a Serpent’s Jacket” this stops them in their tracks. Toni and Cheryl look at each other then at me

“You’ll have to go through initiation”

“Which is?” I ask looking at Toni

“You can either choose the Serpant dance which is basically a strip tease or….”

“I’ll do it”

“No wait YN. You have to do it at the Whyte Wyrm” Toni looks at me worriedly “it will be in front of men 3 times our age”

“Wait” Cheryl says with a twinkle in her eye “does it have to be, or can it just be in front of us, Veronica Betty, Kevin and Fangs?”

“Well I guess there’s no rule against that”

“Then let’s do it!”

“Well if your sure”

“I am” I eagerly nod my head

“Let’s get you ready”.

“Hey Sweet Pea!” Toni shouts as she makes her way towards the boys at the fair. I’m hidden behind Kevin, Betty and Veronica “we’ve got a surprise for you” I then walk to the front where a shocked Sweet Pea looks me up and down

“YN? What… how? You look…”

“I know”

“Toni let you borrow her jacket?”

“Nope it’s mine. I did the dance”

“You… Toni you let her…”

“No not at the Wyrm. She did it in front of us”

“So your a Serpent now?”

“That’s is if you want me”

“Hell yeah I do” Sweet Pea then lifts me up and kisses my lips before putting me back down “will you be mine?”

“Yeah course” this time I’m the one to initiate the kiss

“Finally!” Fangs groans making everyone laugh.

#sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea #riverdale imagine #riverdale imagines

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thefiresfromheaven · 1 year

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I'm posting this here for my new blog. I'm in search of a beta reader once again now that I'm writing again. If your interested and would like to apply then just follow the link! I'm so ready to start posting on @the-fire-of-heaven you guys have no idea lol.

#beta reader #beta request #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea riverdale #riverdale #pre war harry potter #post war harry potter #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy smut #draco x oc #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x oc #sweet pea smut #harry potter series #hp fandom #riverdale fanfiction

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noratilney · 9 months

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OC NEW YEARS CHALLENGE: day #1: what a tangled web we weave

Maia Smith + vulnerability

maybe this time - cabaret / anna white / munscap3 on instagram / dodinsky / a self-portrait in letters - anne sexton / scott leger / brett williams / the lion in winter - james goldman / stephanie kuehnert / tv - billie eilish / bluebonnet scene - robert julian onderdonk / khaled hosseini / oscar wilde / laurell k. hamilton / isabel durant on instagram / anne frank / chenchenwrites on twitter / naguib mahfouz / pinterest / i hate everything right now - sari moon / empire blue - brenna womer / pinterest / e. lockhart / pinterest / death on the nile - agatha christie / lauren bowman / haruki murakami / holly warburton / robert brault / oscar wilde

#onyc23 #maia smith #ocappreciation #sweet pea x oc #riverdale ocs #web weaving

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atinylittlepain · 4 months

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Chapter One

jackson!joel miller x witch!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

He thinks he might fall in love with her. She can't let him fall in love with her. Or: a reimagined take on an infamous Practical Magic au by yours truly.

wordcount | 6.1K

series content info | 18+ slowburn-ish, strangers to friends to lovers to estranged acquaintances to ???, discussions of death and grief, a little magic, just a little, jackson era joel and all that entails, eventual smut, angst obviously, and love that requires a little elbow grease.

a/n | yeeeehaw, here we go. I have to just say, it was so damn fun writing this, and while I haven't gotten started on chapter two quite yet (hello, finishing undergrad, you thankless wench) I'm real excited to get started soon. As always, I'd love to hear what you think, thank you for reading.

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He doesn’t understand this world of a town. Two months, maybe three, actually, and still not used to any of it. Not used to warm water and light switches that work. Not used to three whole meals, not used to whole anything. Tomatoes and peaches, sweet snap peas, the taste of summer. Not used to people living so closely and not trying to kill each other. He feels like a livewire strung taut, waiting for the shoe to drop, for the catch of it all. He’s starting to think there is no catch. And if there is no catch, he’s worried he’ll get too comfortable, too soft.

The people of Jackson live a different life. May as well be on a different planet. And as such, they treat him and the kid with a pitiful patience and a cautious distance. Careful, feral animals, still being housebroken, still learning not to eat with their hands and swear in the dining hall. Still learning not to flinch, or do much worse, when a friendly hand is placed on their shoulders. This strange world, strange life he’s walked into, and he’s pretty sure it’s not for him. But he wants it to be for Ellie, so he tries.

In this world, help is expected, and given freely. White-knuckling isn’t requisite, there are things that can be done for a fever besides waiting it out, ways to relieve a little suffering. Time and space, a luxury, he thinks. And so when the kid came home with a bloom of welts on her palms and up her bare shins, unaware of how easily poison ivy can spread, there was, for once, something he could actually do about it.

Tommy was the one who clued him in. The little shop that sits a few storefronts down from the Tipsy Bison which, in all honesty, he had never paid any mind to. He doesn’t get out much to begin with though, so that says very little. Unassuming, peeling blue paint and tall windows obscured by bursts and blooms of plants. A piece of smooth wood has been turned into a sign hanging above the door, letters seared into the grain. Apothecary.

He calls out, hesitant when he steps inside, unsure now if he came at the right time. No one in sight, the shop sits perfectly quiet, still, just the hum of a fan tucked into one of the windows, sending a faint shiver through the plants around it. He’s admittedly surprised by the sight, not that he had been expecting the clinical white of a pharmacy. Still, the shock of green all around him, warm clay pots on wooden benches, vines and leaves spilling over the edges like languid limbs in repose. Lush and strange, he steps further into the shop, foliage brushing against his shoulders, the cool, damp smell of earth. He calls out again, still silence.

There’s something that looks like an old checkout counter further back, a rusted-out cash register that now has thin vines growing along and in between the keyboard. The remnant stub of a receipt sits in its mouth, he thinks he can make out 2003, ink all but faded away. But the strangest of all things, as he’s studying the slumped machine. Someone else joins him. Or something else.

“Well, look at you.” It doesn’t exactly startle him, more like a small kick in his chest at the intrusion. Like black ink, sleek and shine and slipping up onto the counter, all ease, perched and staring at him. He thinks a bit idly to himself that he hasn’t seen too many cats in the last two decades. And this cat looks well taken care of, maybe even a little prim, if a cat can look such a way, sitting on its haunches and looking at him, unblinking, unwavering, and a little unsettling. Little impulse, before he can think too hard about it, he holds his hand out, a scratch between the ears that’s rebuffed as soon as it’s accepted, little snit and swipe, the sharp pin prick sting of blood over his knuckles. He presses his other palm over the small throb, the cat long gone by the time he has half a mind to look for it.

“Did she get you?” Now that does get a jolt out of him. Animals are easier. But people, well. He looks to his left, then to his right, deeper into the shop. He sees her hair before he really sees her. Piles of curls, gray starting to bleed through all that darkness. She’s standing in a doorway he hadn’t seen before, the cat rubbing its cheek against her shin. Somehow, he feels like he’s been told on, thick flood of something warming up the back of his neck.

“Just a scratch, think I deserved it though.” Somewhere around his age, he thinks, maybe a little younger. Her eyes do a lift and crinkle when she smiles, stepping closer to him. He sees the same years he recognizes in his own face, though she certainly wears it better, tempered smile, glasses getting pushed up into her hair, more mane now than anything else. What was he here for again?

“You’re Joel Miller.”

“I am, how did–”

“Tommy told me he was sending you my way. I didn’t know a person could come with a warning label.” Something southern in her voice, little twang, little twinge. Her words rasp just a bit, and it sounds like kindness, like a sharpness that could turn sour, though she keeps it sweet, tilt of her head, sweet.

“I guess my reputation precedes me then.”

“It’s a small town.”

“I’m starting to catch onto that.” The cat has taken an insistent twine between his legs, chewing at his shoelaces, until she, still nameless to him, hooks her arm around its belly, easy as anything, and Stevie’s a little curious is all, sending the creature slinking off and away from them, disappearing between all the green.

“I’m sorry, older I get the less I remember my manners. I’m Maggie.” Palm extended, and when he takes it, it’s like that thing he and Tommy used to do as kids, bored out of their minds and making a game of shuffling in their socks, fingertip shocks to the backs of each other’s necks, just a quick gasp of static, there and gone.

“Tommy said you could help me out with something for poison ivy?” Oh, she says, mostly pantomime when she takes her hand back and wipes it on the thigh of her jeans, is it for you? He’s surprised how easily that makes him laugh.

“No, it’s, well, it’s my kid, got it pretty bad.”

“Your daughter is in luck then. I’m almost sure every kid in Jackson under the age of sixteen gets it at least once, and I treat every single one of them.” A slip, a stutter, because did she? Did he? He must have, right? Must have used that word, daughter, for her to say it. Even though he’s pretty sure he didn’t, pretty sure of his pause, but he can’t give it any more thought because she, Maggie, has already turned heel, a cursory look over her shoulder at him that tells him, yes, he should be following her further back into the shop.

“So, witch hazel is going to be your daughter’s new best friend. Soak a little of this into a cloth or towel and dab it onto the rash a few times a day, you really can’t overdo it though.” He’s trying to keep up, really, nodding and mmhmming as she hands him a small bottle, already onto the next thing, her glasses now sliding down to the end of her nose as she looks through drawers and cabinets, plucking out things that look like old shoe polish tins, jars covered with cloth toppers. A mix of method and madness, a grace to her movements, though something skittish is threaded through. Bird of prey, he thinks, something of fierce and feather in all that motion.

A combination of workshop and kitchen makes up what he thinks is the backroom of the shop, large butcher block taking up most of the middle of the room, back door propped open with something that, frankly, looks like an urn. An impressive-looking range spans the back wall, and he thinks that, maybe, in the before, some kind of restaurant. But now, very different means to very different ends.

“Alright, this’ll help most with the itching. It’s a bit potent, so just tell her to take a little bit, warm it up between her palms, and rub it over the worst spots.” Ultimately, he’s left with a bottle, a small tin, and a few sachets of oatmeal bath soak, only half sure he got all her directions, trying to balance listening to her, and letting his eyes wander over all the cabinets, dried plants and variously odd containers spilling out from everywhere. Head spinning, already spun out actually, and he can’t help but wonder how he’s just now meeting this woman, a strange sense that she’s important, though why, or to whom, he isn’t sure.

“That should have Sarah all cleared up in about a week, but if it’s still persisting–”

“I’m sorry–” Whatever he’s sorry about, it cracks and fails in his chest. Like he’s been winded, or maybe wounded, a sort of deep suckerpunch shock hearing that name come from a stranger’s mouth. He has to clear his throat before he speaks again, posing it like a question, you said Sarah? And there’s a peculiar thing that happens in the silence, the quick pass of her eyes over his face, pull of her brow like she’s the one that’s confused. But whatever it is, it’s gone just as quick, lines smoothing, a smile so small it can only be apologetic. That queasy twist in his gut has loosened, but there’s still something unsettled, that lingering static all over his skin.

“I thought I heard that was your kid’s name, but judging by your reaction I must be getting people mixed up again.” She says something else, something about taking care, a lot of folks around here pass through my hands, sometimes they blur together. He believes that well enough, still uncertain about the rest, though too skittish to do anything other than drop it. That name isn’t for anyone else, not even a bird of prey, so he keeps it folded up close and tight between his ribs and lets out a sigh to blow out all of his held breath, slumping civility.

“No, it’s alright, I’m not too good with names myself.”

“Well, there hasn’t been much need for that in this world, don’t you think?”

“I guess not, though I’m getting the sense it’s a little different around here.” It seems like a nervous thing, a pulse point reassurance in the way she brushes a hand back through her hair, lets her palm curl at the nape of her neck for a moment, then hand to wrist. Never still, she’s done it a few times now just standing here talking to him, though her words come easy, if not a little sharp, a single, high note of a laugh.

“Oh yeah, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to work on that, unless you wanna hurt some poor bird’s feelings, you know.” Wave of her hand, you know, and the thought occurs to him, errant, that this is the most normal conversation he’s had with someone since deciding not to leave. And quickly after that, the thought that he doesn’t hate it, this, doesn’t hate normal, doesn’t want normal to stop. For once, he feels like he can do normal. For once, it feels easy.

“Any advice?”

“What, on assimilating?” That word rolls languid and loose off her tongue, making a joke out of it as she pronounces each syllable, that sour twang pitching up another key. He nods, try me.

“Give it time, the names that matter will shake out eventually. In the meantime, just avoid direct eye contact and the rumor mill will leave you alone, relatively speaking.”

“That right?” Shrug, sigh, she tilts her head to the side, smile going slanted and shoulder hiked, it’s been working for me, kinda, sorta. His eyes trail the slope of her collar bone, bare now with how the sleeve of her shirt has slid a little askew. Sunspots, a silver knick of a scar, paper thin and fine.

“Ellie, that’s, um, well, my kid’s name.”

“Got it, and you’re Joel.”

“And you’re Maggie.”

“Look at you, already getting better at it.”

“Is that short for something?”

“Unfortunately, my mother saddled me with Magdalene.”

“Don't hear that one often.”

“Nope, she was a little, well–”

“Eccentric?”

“I was going to say righteous, but that works too.”

“Religious then?”

“In a way, yes, you could say that. You too? Joel sounds very bible-y.”

“My folks were, I never really acquired a taste for it though.”

“Hmm, amen.” Easy, easy, easy, until time does that thing it always does, starts to fissure beneath that delicate freeze. She glances at her watch, a polite sigh, and he notices the thin band on her finger, a foolish drop of disappointment souring his stomach, trying, and failing, to double check if it was her left, if it was her ring finger. Not that it matters though, not that it would, or could matter. Already on the move, something about a colicky baby I have to go check in on, leading him back out to the front of the shop, and he finally remembers the bottle and tins he’s holding, what he came here for in the first place.

“I appreciate all this, really, just name your price and–”

“Oh, no, consider it a welcome gift. I hope Ellie starts feeling a little better.” And he wants to accept that, her kindness, and how easily she offers it. But there’s no muscle left in him for that, weak and wilted and wary of shoes dropping, catches, and being caught. Whatever remains in its place, she notices it, that nervous hesitation, that one step back, that shifted glance toward the exit, softening some of her sharpness. And it’s not pity, because he knows pity, seen a lot of pity in these few months he’s been here. No, not that, something simpler and saner. Seeing and being seen, the cool slip of relief from it.

“I might have an idea for a trade if you’re up for it.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Tommy said you’re handsy–” She stops herself with a gasp that sounds like a hiccup, seemingly just as stunned as he is by the word, hair falling in her face with the shake of her head, little laugh, little brightness. Handy, oh my god, I meant handy.

“I’m sorry, clearly I don’t get out much, lord.” All hands, talking with her hands, palm to her forehead, then back through her hair, quick flickers, he tries to track that ring through its orbit, a dizzying effort. Hummingbird hands, a woman who is all wings.

“It’s alright, reckon you’re still better at this than I am.”

“On the contrary, I think you’ve been the picture of civility.”

“Will you tell Tommy that?”

“I’m sure I can put in a good word.” He’s lingering, or maybe she is, or maybe they both are. Not used to this, taking time for time’s sake.

“I am though. Handy, I mean, if you need help fixing something?” She does, she tells him, stair railing that’s come so loose she’s worried she’s going to go right through it one of these days. And it’s been twenty years since he’s been in a world in which people worry about the upkeep of their stair railing, but it’s an easy fix, he tells her, he can do that, he tells her. Sunday? Sunday works fine. They shake on it, stepping out of the shop into the mid-day glare of sun, her with a deep canvas bag hanging off her shoulder. She squints at him, it was nice meeting you, and he says the same, and finds himself actually meaning it. But there’s still something strange slicking up and down his spine, he’s reminded of it watching her walk off in the other direction, though he’s not really watching her any more, but the people she passes by.

Small town, close town, everyone knowing everyone else, names pinned down under thumbs. Ellie had let out a loud what the fuck when a stranger greeted them, by name, the first time they went to the dining hall for dinner. He’s been feeling a similar way about all the greetings, all the good neighbors doing what good neighbors do. But Maggie gets none of that walking down the block. No smiles, no tipped chins, no knowing and being known. He swears he even sees a few swept away glances, a few steps back the closer she gets. If it bothers her, she doesn’t show it, a sort of easy sway to her gait, walking hips-first, there, and there, and then gone when she turns a corner. Strange, and stranger even, when he looks down and notices that the puddle of black ink is chewing on his shoelaces again.

Little trouble, yellow eyes that round and narrow on him, he takes one step, and little trouble follows him, close on his heels. He imagines that they’re putting on an absurd show walking down the main drag of town, him stopping every few steps to turn around and see that yes, little trouble is still following him, though at an admittedly respectable distance, settling back on its haunches and staring him down every time he glances back over his shoulder. Little trouble follows him all the way to the front steps of his house, seeming to finally lose interest in favor of a bee humming lazy around a patch of weeds. The last thing he sees of little trouble is pink-padded paws batting at dandelions, curled-lip grin and white fang chewing on stems, beheading thick yellow manes.

…

She lives on the other side of town. Older builds, he thinks, been here longer, windows with glass that warbles a little in its age like melted sugar, and deep-set porches washed with dark blue shadows in the early morning light. Cottonwood trees sway and dip, old limbs that arc and curl over the cracked-up sidewalk, slumbering giants making the sounds of all the small life it hosts. It’s a side of Jackson he hasn’t seen until now and it reminds him of a younger, simpler time.

The town follows an old rhythm, late starts on Sunday. There’s even a church somewhere, though he’s not particularly concerned with finding it anytime soon. It’s still early enough, however, that he’s one of the few people already up and out. She told him to come as early as he wanted, really, I’ll be up. And he sees for himself that she was being honest, because when he walks up to the house she told him to look for, he finds her waging a zealous war with a rose bush in her front yard, and it doesn’t seem like she’s winning.

When he told his brother he had taken his advice, he was met with a surprising amount of interest, talking quietly over a shared drink and well, what did you think?

I didn’t realize you were waiting for my report.

She’s a little different is all, does things her own way.

Well, she got the kid fixed up.

I had no doubt she would.

I’m helping her on Sunday with something, as a trade.

Oh?

Stair railing in her house is loose. Been a long time since I thought about stair railing.

Wait, you’re going to her house?

Yes.

Into her house?

I’d presume so. Is that a problem?

No, just surprising.

Why’s that?

She keeps to herself, not exactly one to make friends, though I don’t blame her with the way– well, people can be cruel, I guess.

What’s that supposed to mean?

There’s talk, stupid stuff really. For what it’s worth I like her just fine.

Talk, his brother said. People spinning stories out of fear, or maybe something weaker than that. He’s been gathering up some of that talk all week, enough of it to make his head spin. The only thing he’s sure is truth, Maggie was here before Jackson was even called Jackson, just a nameless group of people that somehow managed to survive, until it became something else entirely. The rest, however, weft and warp of fact and fiction. Plenty of good words, broken bones set back in place and flu seasons weathered, babies born and grown, though the praise seems to be given with a reluctant respect, skittishly, but, well. But, well, something strange about her, isn’t there? He’s heard plenty of strange too. Strange, the way she talks to the wind, and the way it seems to listen. Strange, that cat of hers, with lingering eyes that watch and watch and watch, a shadow showing up in all the close, quiet places. Strange, whatever it is she keeps on the stove in the back of her shop. He asked Ellie if she’s heard anything, and she, pleased with herself, offered up a fantastical report of flight and dancing naked under the full moon, a perfectly tall tale he could imagine the children of Jackson passing around a classroom.

One thing he hasn’t heard anything about, the ring and whichever finger she wears it on. His right, her left, she’s still wearing it this morning, simple silver glinting and a pair of garden shears aloft in her hand. She smiles sheepish when she sees him, like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t be.

“Those are pretty.” She doesn’t seem to realize he’s talking about the roses, big white blooms that she absently looks at over her shoulder, scoffing, her mouth screwed to the side.

“They’re useless is what they are, taking up too much space and overcrowding the rest of my plants.” As he gets closer, stepping beyond the gate and into the front yard, he sees the errant chaos of her work, stray petals and entire threads of flowers lopped off around her feet. She’s a little breathless as she speaks, back of her hand to her forehead to wipe stray salt, and he wonders how long she’s been out here at this.

“Not a fan of roses then?”

“To be honest with you, I don’t know where these are coming from. It seems like I cut them back and by the next morning they’ve taken over even more.” She gives a weak stab to the flowers that remain intact, a shake of her head as she abandons her work, and he shouldn’t, just here to fix her stair railing, he shouldn’t, but he already is, already saying the words before he can think about keeping his mouth shut, you’re bleeding.

“What?” He gestures, at least having half a mind not to touch, his hand hovering somewhere in the vicinity of her forearms. Long, thin welts where he’s sure the thorns got her, and maybe he’s a little startled by her breathing out oh, those fuckers, and this again, on the move again, and expecting him to follow her up the porchsteps and in through the screen door and just let it slam or it won’t close all the way. She’s already tramped further into the house and he finds himself utterly unsure of what comes next, shuffling a little in the hallway she left him in, head tilting with the sound of a faucet turning on somewhere, pipes groaning.

Another truth he gets to see for himself, Maggie has lived here a long time, all the acquired detritus of life that only time can allow, that leaving washes away. Paintings dripping off the walls, a craned-neck glance into the rooms around him revealing worn-looking furniture, shelves of books and little nothing things, trinkets and half-melted candles. And more plants, more plants everywhere.

“So, the stairs.” The stairs, in question, are an easy enough fix. How nice, he thinks, to know what is needed, and to know exactly where to go to get it, a few tools and materials only a ten minute walk away. She tells him to make himself at home, let yourself in, I’ll be in the back, I’d warn you about my guard dog but she’s not very good at her job. The guard dog in question is rubbing its whiskered cheek against the leg of her jeans, thrumming a purr so loud he thinks it’s at least partial performance, yellow eyes skewing up at him every now and again.

The work itself makes up the morning. Methodical, monotonous work that allows his mind, and his eyes, to wander. Whatever that ring on her finger means, he’s nearly certain that nobody else lives here with her, except for the cat who spends the first few hours sitting on the bottom step, watching him. As for Maggie, he catches glimpses of her, in and out all morning between what looks like a sunroom and the backyard, never still, always something in her hands, always moving like she’s got an important destination to get to. She comes back inside just as he’s finishing his work, dressed down in a tank top now, all her hair pulled into a precarious knot at the nape of her neck. His eyes linger on bare collar bone, sun high in her cheeks, even though he tries not to.

“I completely forgot to ask if your kid is feeling better.” He tells her that she is, tries for a joke about teenagers and all their drama that just feels weird in his mouth, though she still smiles at it. And he feels it again, just the same as when he met her, that tug, that want to linger, even though the work is done, and she’s thanking him for it, and even he, and all his dormant manners, knows that’s his cue to leave.

“I was about to make some lunch if you wanted to stick around?” He shouldn’t.

“Yeah, okay, thank you.” And so he stays for lunch, and so there’s tomato sandwiches, thick and bursting, summer sweet and savor on her back porch, wiping dripping ripeness off on the thigh of his pants, a hum in his throat to be enjoying something like this.

“How’s another week of domesticity suiting you?” Words that crackle with a half-grin, her cheek cupped in her palm, a picture of afternoon haze, sleep and sate, and he finds himself being lulled by the sight, little slump back in his chair.

“Don’t think it’s something I’ll get used to anytime soon.”

“That’s to be expected, I don’t think anyone ever fully gets used to it though. Not unless this is all they’ve known.”

“Where were you before you came here?” It’s a question that borders on prying, he apologizes and you don't have to almost as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but she waves the apology off, it’s a little complicated. And she tells him that this is where she lived in the before, right up until the after, and that she, like so many others, got funneled into a quarantine zone in the earliest years.

“Were you ever in one?”

“Boston, for a while.”

“Then you know how maddening those places are.” Bird of prey, trapped in a cage. Bird of prey, who flew back home. Bird of prey, who found that a few other people had the same idea.

“It wasn’t called Jackson back then, wasn’t called anything, just people, you know.” Until it became something else, something bigger, and a little more serious, and if that bothers her, she doesn’t show it. And now he really is prying, asking after her accent that surely doesn’t come from the mountains. He’s not wrong, she tells him.

“I moved here when I was, oh, maybe nine? My parents, we lived in Mississippi before they passed, and when they did I was sent up north to live with my aunt.” It’s an old wound, whatever pain that remains from it has been transfigured into a sort of tired nostalgia around her eyes, the tempering of her smile. She’s quick to brush it away, a bright laugh and a shake of her head, I think I just told you all my secrets. He knows that isn’t true, though warmth still starts to unfurl in his chest. And when she asks him the same questions, he offers the same piecemeal parts of the whole truth. Offers Texas, and his brother, and a halfway truth about Ellie. Shards and fragments passed between each other’s hands, it surprises him how easily he has given his to her.

“I guess we’re not strangers anymore then.”

“No, I guess not.”

“I should– I feel the need to warn you.” Like she’s not sure how to put these words together right, brow pinched low and smile slanted nervous, you might not want to spend too much time around me.

“Why’s that?”

“People around here like to talk.”

“Right.”

“And they like talking about me.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“And I don’t want– you seem like the kind of guy who just wants to keep his head down and get by.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“I’d like to be friendly, but I don’t want to take that from you.” The word friendly does something unpleasant in his chest. He does his best to ignore it.

“Why’d you invite me to stay?”

“Because I like talking to you and because I’m selfish. Because I wanted to.” And there’s something else, he thinks, something else unspoken behind her grin. Because he hasn’t made up his mind about her in the same way everyone else has, at least not yet.

“I have heard things, about you, I mean.”

“I’m sure you have.”

“And I have questions.” She sits back in her chair, an edge of a challenge in her jutted chin, palms turned up and open, try me. But given the chance, he doesn’t know where to begin, which thread to pull first. What comes out, ultimately, isn’t even a question, but plain and blunt observation. This is a big house.

“It’s just me, and Stevie. I’ve offered up rooms to folks around here, haven’t gotten any bites so far.”

“But it wasn’t always, just you.” Absent-minded, she spins that silver band with her thumb, another wound revealed.

“I was married until I wasn’t.”

“Before or after?” He doesn’t know where this is coming from, this plainly brash openness, though she doesn’t wince, doesn’t recoil from it, just as steady as he is.

“After, about a decade after. You think you’re in the clear and then, yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for now. Ask me something else, why don’t you? Something more interesting.” Wave of her hand and a clipped laugh that’s more like a sniff, tender, don’t touch, don’t dig into that wound any deeper.

“People say you’re strange.”

“Strange.” Dragging out the word, letting it crackle with a grin that’s all teeth, little laugh on the end, picture perfect amusement in how she tilts her head at him.

“That you can do strange things.”

“That’s kind of a nothing word, isn’t it? Strange?”

“I thought you were gonna answer my questions.”

“Oh, I will. You’re gonna have to be a little more precise in your language though.” Back and forth, back and forth, why does he like this so much? Dragging his palm down his jaw to stop the spread of anticipation, heat-hazy in the mid-afternoon sun.

“That cat of yours, for starters.”

“Mmhmm?” Raise of her brows, voice high in her throat, and he has to huff, do I really have to say it?

“Are you referring to the rumor that my cat spies on people and reports back to me all their wicked, little secrets?”

“Sure, yes.”

“That cat right there?” His eyes follow her pointed finger out into the tall grass of the backyard, where the cat in question seems to have contented itself with tangling its paws in a loose length of twine, belly-up, writhing around in all that green. Maggie snorts.

“Oh yeah, she’s a real mastermind, you better watch out, she’ll be visiting your bedroom window next.”

“Then what about the rest of it?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“I’m glad you’re finding this so amusing.”

“Mmhmm, I really am.”

“I feel foolish even saying it.”

“If there’s a word you’re skirting around, and I think there is, it’d be better if you just come out with it.”

“This really is a nothing word though.”

“Oh?”

“Made up, make-believe.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Frankly, I’m not sure of anything about you.” She hums, chin cupped in her hand and her elbow propped on the small table between them, her brow dipping in mock consideration of his words. He can see that she really is finding all of this entertaining, something in her eyes like a squinted challenge, ghost of a smile twitching in the corners of her mouth.

“How about I say the word I think you’re thinking of?” Spiraling words, circling each other, he nods, and she purses her lips, getting ready for some kind of lift off.

“People have told you my cat is strange.”

“People have told you I’m strange.”

“People have told you I do strange things.” Yes, yes, yes, he nods with each statement, and her smile only seems to brighten.

“Joel, have people been telling you I’m a witch?” And that’s it, isn’t it? Foolish, and he doesn’t know why that word has seemed to stick in his mind. Maybe just because he’s heard it from enough mouths in the last few days that it almost makes it seem plausible. Maybe he’s lived in a world turned inside out on itself long enough that there is very little imagination that hasn’t been eaten away by reality. Maybe he’s just like the rest of them, looking for any way to explain someone who doesn’t do things the capital-w Way they are supposed to be done. Maybe he’s still thinking about Sarah, and where Maggie could have possibly plucked that name from. And maybe that word is just holding the place of something else, an uneasiness he feels around her, though not unpleasant, just other, and so very unlike any other. He opens his mouth to speak, but decides against it, and this seems to amuse her most of all, sharp smile now softening, no longer playing at a game because they’ve both caught each other now, haven’t they?

“That’s what people say.”

“And you? What do you say?”

“Does it matter?”

“If we’re going to be friends, yes, I’d like to know what you think.” Friends, they’re going to be friends. When did that happen? He thinks that may be the strangest thing of all.

“I think I don’t know enough yet to tell you what I think.”

“How judicious of you.”

“I think you’re different though.”

“Well, I think you’re different too.”

“Why?”

“Most people wouldn’t have gone past the front porch, and here you are staying for lunch.”

“I don’t mean to impose or–”

“That’s not what I meant.” The words are kind, but they’re also a conclusion, enough, for now, enough. He watches her get up and collect both their plates before he can think to move, and then another kindness, touch, her palm on his shoulder as she passes behind him, there and gone. He’s a stranger to touch that isn’t economical, or clinical, or plainly violent, and he finds himself unsure what to do with that, though inexplicably wanting more of it.

She thanks him again for the fix to the railing, and he thanks her for lunch. He lingers, and she lets him, helps with the dishes, checks the railing one more time. I’ll see you, she says, walking him out onto the front porch, and she does it again, touch again, somewhere at his elbow, as simple as anything. The roses are still raging in her front yard, a whole wave of them.

Somewhere in the middle of his walk home, he realizes the cat is following him, second shadow slinking low to the ground, dipping her head when he turns around, pretending at predator. He keeps walking, pays little attention to her pursuit. He’ll get used to it eventually. He thinks he already is.

...........................

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#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller au #apothecary gv

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toxicbrothel · 11 days

Text

Bad Ideas

PAIRING: raider!Joel x f!reader x f!friend x Carter WORD COUNT: 2.5k NOTE/SUMMARY: Joel is primary (you're sweet pea). Carter is an OC. Same non-canon raider AU as Girl Talk. (poll). Carter's girl is not described. They all sleep in the same bed. what could go wrong? WARNINGS: 🔞, mostly smut, MFFM kinda, choking, violence, hair pulling, biting, questionable orgasm timing, angst, dark sweet pea. read at your own discretion.

—

The fire pops and crackles, filling the silence. It’s been a few minutes since either of the men said anything. All you hear is the fire and Joel’s breath, heavy with need. You’re stifling moans with your face in his neck while you straddle him. He’s got one hand on your ass and one on your back as he grinds you on his hard bulge. His manhood throbs against you, nudging you in just the right spot. The whisky on his breath is stronger than usual.

He lets out a soft grunt and pulls you harder against him. Closer, tighter so his clothed cock is aimed at your wet little hole instead. He’s going to make you desperate for it. With Joel nudging you like that with his hard-on, your wetness begins to seep into his denim. The need to be filled is overwhelming. Will he fuck you right here? He’s done it in front of plenty of people, but normally it’s just men. It turns you on a little more, thinking about doing it in front of her. A private show, just for them.

~//ofc pov//~

Carter and his girl--your friend--are only about two meters away, and she’s seated on him in the same fashion. They couldn’t help themselves after a few minutes of trying not to watch you and Joel and hearing the noises you’re trying to stifle. She’s heard you moan before. They all have. She’s heard it with her head between your legs, with her fingers knuckles deep getting soaked by your sweet little cunt. When the boys got home from their last hunting trip, the two of you were on the sofa, with your legs stacked together while she expertly massaged your tit, thumbing your nipple into a peak while you grinded on her thigh between your legs. Now she’s grinding herself on Carter as they make out.

She can’t really help herself. He’s a good kisser, and he’s rock hard. What she really wants is Carter inside her, but rocking against him, feeling the stiffness and girth of his perfect cock is the next best thing. She rolls her hips slowly.

His mouth breaks away from hers to mutter, “Fuck, sugar,” then a cautionary, “Hol’on.” His hands on her thighs hold her still for a moment. She giggles and they look at each other fondly for a moment. His eyes always sparkle when he’s with her, but now his face is wrecked with arousal.

Carter has so much restraint. Sometimes she wishes he was more like Joel, giving it to his girl any time, anywhere.

They start kissing again, softer, less sloppy.

~//🌸🫛//~

Joel murmurs into your hair, “You gonna come for me?”

Your response is interrupted by a loud clap of thunder. When you jump, Joel chuckles.

A fat raindrop lands on your head.

Carter gives his girl a kiss on the forehead and nudges her off his lap. He subtly adjusts himself before standing up and going to grab the tarp by the side of the trailer. “Guess we should try to beat the rain,” he tells her as he covers the unused firewood.

You glance at her and she gives you a disappointed look.

You put your hands around the back of Joel's neck, gently resting your thumbs just in front of his earlobes. He raises an eyebrow like he knows you want something.

You bite your lip and almost laugh.

“I'm listening,” he teases.

“Can they stay?” you ask.

“Whatcha want’em to stay for?”

Heat rises to your cheeks “I just like hanging out with her.”

“Uh-huh,” he says with teasing skepticism. “I know ya do,” he reminds you.

Another clap of thunder and it begins to pour.

Joel clears his throat and shouts, “Come on in, it's early. Storm’ll blow over. ”

–

You’re all wet by the time you get inside. The dog gets to come in too, but he has to stay in the bathroom. In the kitchen, the men have another drink. The storm is picking up outside. You sit on Joel’s lap, side-saddle. He’s so handsome in the lantern light. Carter’s girl sits in the chair next to him, and he holds her hand in her lap. She yawns into her shoulder.

“pull-out’s in there if ya wanna call it a night,” Joel nods toward the living room. Then he murmurs across the top of your ear, “You tired?”

You remind him, “the roof leaks in there.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Joel replies.

“Bed’s big enough,” you whisper, then put your hand on the lamp’s handle like you’re ready to bring it to the bedroom.

“Hear that, Carter?” Joel picks up his glass to down the rest of his whiskey. He swallows and puts it back down, with his voice a little lower. “Fine by me.”

~//flashback//~

After catching you girls together that time, Joel and Carter had talked. You overheard some of it and were surprised to hear Carter was the hesitant one. Joel was always far more possessive (than anyone, ever), but that was partly why he made peace with it: If something happened to Joel, he would rather you have your friend than someone else. He knew you didn’t look at her the way you looked at him. He knew she was just for fun. The thought of another man swooping in made his blood boil, but he didn’t want you to be completely alone.

Carter, on the other hand, was concerned. He was worried about Joel getting jealous and getting rid of the girl. Taking a sexual interest in you wasn't good for anyone's lifespan.

“I don’t get jealous,” Joel claimed. “Just don’t like men disrespectin’ my girl.”

“snapped a girl's neck for puttin’ hands on her,” Carter reminded him.

Joel scoffed. “Snapped her neck cause she damn near killed ya, brother.”

Carter was moved. After a few moments of silence, he agreed. “If it’s too much, promise you’ll say somethin'. I don't wanna lose her, man.”

Joel nodded, and that was that.

~//~

Now Joel’s fucking you from behind in the spoon position, holding onto your hip. Your friend’s face is getting closer to yours with every thrust from Carter behind her. Carter is holding her breast.

As the gap gets smaller and smaller between you and her, your erect nipple brushes against something hard - Carter's knuckles. His hand quickly moves out of the way with a quiet curse into his girl’s hair. But the split-second contact has already sent a chill down your spine that makes you twitch on Joel's cock. The deep growl Joel lets out gives you butterflies.

Your bodies drift even closer until your breasts are smashed against hers, and you’re sloppily kissing. You’re floating in a cozy world of pleasure with her mouth on yours, her tongue finding yours after sliding along your lower lip. Her tits feel so good against you, moving to the beat of Carter’s hips. The power of Joel’s rhythm grinds you against her. You almost lift your leg so your knee rests on her hip, but think better of it when you imagine Joel’s balls grazing her. Your lips stop moving as you close your eyes and focus on Joel. You and she breathe against each other’s mouths, letting out sounds of pleasure with your tits still touching. You squeeze her side, then slide your hand to her breast and her nipple gets harder with your touch.

Joel grunts and pulls you back against him, and off of her. The move feels more primal than anything. He probably didn’t think about her at all. He doesn’t think when he’s ravaging you. He only takes what’s his and bends you to his will. It’s the way he can’t physically get enough. Can’t be deep enough inside. Can’t have enough of your body against his. Can’t hold you tight enough. Always hungry for more.

He gropes around the front of your chest as he pounds you, his wide palm smashing your breast. Joel’s thrusts are sharp and deep, and his breathing is more vocal with every stroke of his cock through your tight, soft walls. He must be getting close. He bottoms out for two seconds and you let out a whimper, pushing back on him. “That’s my girl,” he growls as his hips begin to move, and the slow, thick drag of his cock makes you forget everything else. His arm tightens, and his breath is hot in your hair. Your skin is slippery against his. You’re a humid row of bodies, writhing and sliding against each other under a quiet medley of heavy breaths, grunts, and sighs.

“That’s it, baby,” Carter says in a husky near-whisper.

“Ohhh--good girl,” Joel pants, grinding deep inside you. You let out a moan, and it’s echoed by one from her. Your eyes flutter open.

Carter has slowed down. He's fucking her deep and smooth with a hand on her hip. A flash of lightning illuminates the room. Carter is kissing her neck, making her whimper, and a glimpse of his tongue on her skin makes you twitch. Her mouth is open, and her brow furrows with pleasure. “You like that?” Carter mumbles into her neck at a low octave before tasting her skin again, then marking her with bruising suction, drawing another moan. He releases her neck with a smack.

“Whose are ya,” Joel murmurs. Your pussy gives his dick a little squeeze.

“Yours,” you reply. “always.”

“Good girl.”

His. Always his. As much as you enjoy her. You could never be anyone else’s. You wouldn’t dream of it.

She tries to grope your breast, but Joel's hand is there. She breathes out a laugh, and when her hand doesn't move right away, you notice–even through the haze of pleasure. You pull back, pressing your back harder into Joel’s chest. You take her hand off of Joel's, and brush your chest with her fingers so she can feel the letters of his name. You interlace your fingers with hers.

“feel so good, sugar” Carter pants behind her.

Another flash of lightning, and you see she's looking over your head. Your heart races. She’s looking at Joel. There’s no way he’s looking back at her, you reassure yourself, but you keep an eye on her over the next few seconds. The sight isn't as jarring in the dimmer lamplight, but her chin stays lifted upward, and so do her eyes. After another thrust of Joel inside you, she’s still looking at him. Your face tenses and tingles. You find your upper body trying to wiggle out of Joel’s tight grip. You put a hand on the back of her neck and pull her toward you at the same time.

Her neck still glistens with Carter’s spit as your mouth is drawn to it like a magnet.

“Mm,” she moans as you plant your lips and suck. You widen your jaw, and your mind goes someplace else.

"fuck," Carter breathes, "you close?"

The next thing you know, she’s wailing, with your teeth digging unforgivingly into her skin, not budging, only trying to sink deeper.

Carter groans with his release.

Joel keeps fucking you, too wrapped up in the edge of his orgasm to even correct the gap that’s grown between your hair and his face.

“Carter,” she cries, then chokes, “Carter.”

“Shit,” he slowly comes back to reality, realizing what's happening.

Carter reaches around the back of your head and grabs a fist of your hair, trying to pry you off, but it only feels good to you. “Do somethin’, Miller.” His plea shakes Joel out of the spell enough to take you back, or try.

When you resist the pull of his arm, Joel’s hand wraps around your throat. “C’mere,” he growls with a deep thrust. You tense up, squeezing his cock tight.

“God damn” he curses, using the pressure of his forearm between your breasts, trying to pry you off, but not being rough with you, yet. “C’mere, sweet pea.” His fingers add some pressure to your neck.

With your mouth still on her neck, a modest climax ripples through your core, squeezing him tighter. Youre too numb to fully experience it- even the orgasm’s not enough to make you let go.

Joel sternly says your name. He tightens his grip, and you finally release her neck from your mouth.

He loosens his hand and pulls you fully back into his embrace with a groan, bottoming out and erupting. The warmth of his spend spreads like a blanket, soothing you along with the pulsing of his cock.

–

You catch your breath and a hint of copper on your tongue.

She’s blubbering. Looking for attention, when she should be apologizing and leaving.

“What the fuck,” Carter mutters, then tries to soothe her. “Shhhh. It's okay, you're good.”

“Crazy bitch,” she mumbles.

You tense and Joel holds you tighter. “Hey,” he murmurs into your hair. “You’re okay.”

Carter's disapproving face turns to concern as he studies your face. "you good, peanut?" He asks you between heaving breaths.

She quietly sobs in unintelligible protest, hand on her neck.

“Lemme see,” Carter says and retrieves the lamp from the bedside. He brings the lamp closer to her neck and his face darkens from shock to horror when he sees the damage. “Jesus,” he whispers.

The rain is really coming down hard. Bullet is whimpering in the bathroom and clawing at the door.

Joe’s arms loosen around you. “Hey,” you grumble in protest when his cock slides out of you. He props himself up to have a look. Then he’s quiet. He lifts his hand and holds it like he’s about to touch her neck while examining the wound. You sharply inhale and he stops short.

“Get her outta here,” Joel mutters. “Give us a minute.”

Carter replies, “Where'd that come from–”

“I’ll handle it,” Joel cuts him off. "Get her outta here."

A clap of thunder.

“Did you cum,” you ask Carter with a blank face. He stares at you with his mouth slightly agape, and you could swear you see him blush.

Saving both of you from Joel's wrath, Carter pretends you were talking to his girl. "She woulda."

"well, she wasn't--" you think about telling Carter his girl wasn't thinking about him, but think better of it. You don't wanna hurt him. "Nevermind."

As he puts his boxers on, Carter boldly tells Joel, "this was always gonna be trouble." Bewildered, he looks back and forth between you and Joel behind you.

Then, Carter helps his girl off the bed. "Alright, come on, baby."

You don’t look directly at her. You’re spaced out.

"i know, baby," he cradles her head as she stands up. He ushers her to the kitchen to look at her neck.

Joel gets up from the bed and pulls on his boxers.

Bullet is going nuts in the bathroom.

“Do you think Bullet’s okay?” you ask, but Joel doesn't check on him or let him out. All he does is close the bedroom door. As he’s slowly making his way back to you, lightning flashes.

Joel’s jaw flexes as he stares you down from the shadow of his brow, fingers twitching at his sides.

He reaches the edge of the bed where you lie. He stands there, facing you.

“That was...bad,” he scolds calmly. Your heart sinks. You would rather him be mad than disappointed. If you deserve anything it's to get smacked around a bit, not this serious face from him.

You sit up, sit back on your knees, and try to hug him. Your eyes water, and your apology barely croaks out. "I'm sorry, you repeat." He feels even taller than usual from this angle. You lower your head, with your arms still loosely around him, nuzzling your hair against his tummy.

He pulls away a bit and lifts your chin to look at him. Lightning flashes.

He takes a firm hold of your jaw. “Biting. . .is not okay.” His jaw clenches, and he reads your eyes trying to see if you got it. “Ever,” he adds. The look on his face tells you not to argue.

“Yes sir,” you mumble.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Okay," he nods to himself. His glistening chest heaves. His neck vein is bulging as he looks down at you. "God damn," he whispers to himself, sounding annoyed. He cracks his neck with no hands, trying to relax.

“You're trying not to hurt me,” you observe.

He takes a deep breath through his nose and slowly nods as he exhales. “Cause I know how much ya like it.”

You rub your lips together and look down and away. He lays a gentle hand on your head.

When you look up to meet his eyes again, he’s trying to suppress a smile.

---

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Ty for reading and compartmentalizing lol 🖤

#raider!joel #alternate universe #joel miller x reader #ofc x f!reader #raider!carter #cw violence #dark!reader #joel miller smut #boyd holbrook #toxicanonymity ☠️

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