#which is where i intend to post my fic if/when i complete it

[zukos-tiny-burnt-ear]

Im gonna be coloring this digitally soon enough, but i actually really like the sketch? So i wanted to share. I'll probably explain it more once i post the finished version, but its another fic scene

[mayxo-hxh]

Im about to get controversial.

Out of chrollo, illumi and hisoka, hisoka is canonically the least likely to flirt to get anything he wants, if at all.

A lot of people think he's a natural flirt but I fear I couldn't have disagreed more. He only "flirted" a single time and that was solely to piss off machi, knowing she'd never agree. Hot take? He would've never asked if he knew she'd agree.

Also, bro's the biggest humanphobe in the anime. He keeps his distance from everyone. The only human physical contact he ever made was through fighting people. (If you're a person thats interested in seeing more evidence, I have an entire long thread about it on twitter that I do plan on posting here soon)

so u cannot give me 1 reason for hisoka to flirt with someone at a random bar but chrollo and illumi? i can think of a few.

chrollo, he already canonically flirts to get what he wants. straight up goes on dates gets a suit and shit. he has no reputation among the general public that hes concerned of that isnt the spider. Illumi? He's a manipulator. I HIGHLY doubt he never flirted to get something in his life from people who are too easy to win over. He's someone that wouldn't care what people think of him. He's also anonymous. People have no idea who tf he is anyways. If it affected the zoldyck reputation? Thats a different story.

Hisoka? he would fucking NEVER. Him specifically? HE HAS A REPUTATION. And whats that reputation? That hes an absolute disgusting freak that no one should dare to approach. He kills people. He fights live and makes sure the audience is always disgusted and weirded out by his actions and performances. You look at him and you should immediately look away and pray he hasn't seen you.

So riddle me this. If his entire shtick is making sure everyones afraid of him and avoids him, then why the hell would he get himself a reputation that makes him approachable????

Why would he get himself a reputation that makes you, as a person who only ever heard of him picking people up, want to approach him.

On top of that, I just.. don't see him picking random people up..??? random weaklings that dont even know nen????? he literally treats them like trash that inconveniences his time. You're saying he'd EVER give them the privilege of sleeping with him???

And then you'd say, oh so he'd sleep with strong people! HERES THE THING. Why would he sleep with them..... when he can fight them. Him getting off from fighting comes NOWHERE to actual sex. What people don't understand is that he gets off to killing people and seeing them crumble in front of him when they realize theyre going to die. Torturing people to death. What's... that got to do with like. yknow. actual sex bro 😭😭😭😭😭😭

this turned into a huge rant probably but do you know how genuinely depressing it is seeing a unique character like hisoka that gains lust through FIGHTING and KILLING reduced to. sex addict in fics. Like. be so fucking serious right now. He called himself a FIGHT ADDICT in the manga. Can I see more of him actually spending his time killing and fighting people instead of whatever the hell bros doing with a random npc.

Anyways this is also why I hc him as asexual/demisexual NEXTTTT

[valleydoli]

𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in June 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #63 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

💜 Eight Cakes and Two Eulogies (Make a Happy Marriage) by yesllliam

(M, 135k, friends to lovers) The only problem is, after his last disastrous relationship, seven years ago, he has little desire to get intimate with another woman, let alone marry one. Of course, Harry, his famous actor of a best friend, always likes to pip in that he is free to marry him and while Louis loves him to pieces, the joke is getting a bit old now.

💜 I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence

(NR, 74k, soulmates) Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.

💜 Scarred by @allwaswell16

(E, 23k, omegaverse) When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death. Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.

💜 Lost But Won by @2tiedships2

(NR, 16k, omegaverse) When Harry loses his passport after a weekend trip to see Niall, the inconvenience of being stranded in America becomes a little more bearable after meeting Louis. Or a lot more bearable.

💜 Safe place to hide us away by @lunarheslwt

(T, 12k, omegaverse) weighed down by everyday stress, alpha Harry takes up nesting in secret. It takes a load of missing clothes and unravelling lies for him to realise that his omega would love and accept him no matter what.

💜 Beep the Horn by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo

(T, 6k, love confessions) the one where Harry dresses as Miley Cyrus for Halloween, and Louis is the tiniest bit in love with him.

💜 Take My Hand, Dumbass by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 5k, roommates) There's only alpha dorms at university, and Louis Tomlinson, omega, refuses to pay the exorbitant fees to live off campus. So, four years pretending to be an alpha it is! That'll be easy.

💜 Missed Chances by @harryanthus-annuus

(E, 5k, omegaverse) they get drunk on some expensive wine. Things escalate from there.

💜 Puppy (Baby, I'm Pawfect for You) by @yoursolosong

(E, 5k, roommates) The one where they rescue a stray puppy together.

💜 Louis and the no good, very bad day by @haztobegood

(E, 4k, soulmates) Louis collapses back into the bed with a groan. Just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, there’s a fucking goose stuck on his balcony.

💜 Switching the positions for you by 28sunflowers / @vintageumbroshirt

(E, 4k, omega Louis) the omegaverse AU where they decide to try a completely new position in bed

💜 Come On and Rescue Me by @kingsofeverything

(E, 3k, silver fox Louis) Louis only intends to watch his hot neighbor’s Instagram live, but he winds up with his hand down his pants.

💜 Timeless by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 3k, omegaverse) After visiting an antiques shop, Harry gets transported through time, and discovers that he and Louis are Timeless.

💜 I'll Still Feel the Same Around You by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(E, 2k, established relationship) Louis finds the cure for his insomnia in the form of his husband.

💜 call me any, anytime by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 2k, girl direction) Harry’s plans for the night are interrupted by an unexpected FaceTime call.

💜 Feelin' So Good Right Now by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 1k, Vampire Diaries au) Louis, a just-turned vampire, enjoys his enhanced touch sensation.

💜 Remember Me (When I'm With You) by liberty_barnes / @liberty-barnes

(T, 1k, memory loss) the one where Louis was cast out and Harry just wants him to be happy

💜 cause you're a sky full of stars by @femstyles

(G, 1k, uni) A film student on campus randomly stops Harry and asks him to participate in her assignment. Little does he know that agreeing also means putting his heart on the line.

💜 Don’t Embarrass Me, Motherfucker by @allwaswell16

(T, 1k, parrot) Harry comes home from work to find Louis and their parrot are up to something. A Darcy the Parrot time stamp Part 2 of That's How I Know

- Rare Pairs -

💜 You Only Fall In Love Twice by @beanno28

(E, 57k, Harry/Louis/Zayn) Louis meets popstar Harry Styles while he is working at a festival and they hit it off right away. When he is introduced to Harry’s boyfriend, Zayn, Louis is invited to learn about their world of Polyamory.

💜 Third Time Lucky by @beanno28

(E, 31k, Harry/Louis/Zayn) Louis sat back, his back resting on the cushion of the sofa. Harry and Zayn were quick to lay their heads on Louis’ chest so Louis could wrap an arm around each of them. Part 2 of You Only Fall In Love Twice

💜 It's You by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k, Louis/Louis) Five times alpha Louis talks to omega Lou and one time he admits he wants more from his omega clone

💜 The Tiniest Moves by @allwaswell16

(T, 1k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Coffee shop owner Nick Grimshaw may or may not have come to work on his day off in the hopes that fresh-off-his-world-tour Louis Tomlinson might stop by.

💜 A Meeting of Minds (and other things too) by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 1k, Zayn/Liam) Zayn's fed up, Liam's a bartender, and maybe they'll both get what they need.

[ghulehunknown]

Terzo x F Reader - Spanking, Degradation, Breeding

Thank you katfish__ on Twitter for bringing my words to life! Check out her full NSFW version here.

**WARNING for explicit content below**

One Missed Text

Summary: You haven’t returned Papa’s text! - or did you? Well either way he’s very upset with you for seemingly ignoring him, and he intends on teaching you a lesson in manners.

CW/Tags: male masturbation, spanking, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, degradation, possessive behavior, breeding, blood, aftercare, spit kink

Word Count: 3.3K

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day, lovelies! I’m bringing back an older fic of mine from AO3 that I haven’t posted here before. I hope you enjoy it!

Poring over text, you sighed. Sister would have your head if you didn’t complete your work by Friday. You were searching for hours in the Unholy Books for references to give her on the week’s upcoming Black Mass sermon: gluttony. That was not nearly as exciting as lust – unless, of course, you were gluttonous for a slice of your beloved. Speaking of, Terzo had not returned your last text message. You were hoping for a midday romp to break up the monotony of the day’s tasks.

You were both teasing each other throughout the day, as you often did on the most boring days to keep each other entertained during the endless meetings and duties. The other Siblings would tease you when they saw your face light up. “Another text from Terzo?” they would ask, knowing full well the answer. What was the subject matter of those messages?…well, that was a secret after all.

“Please…” he had begged through text today (mixed with several undecipherable emojis) after you sent him a quick nip slip photo. “I must have you. Come to me.” That was over two hours ago.

“Name the time and place,” you responded. You saw the text bubbles indicating he was typing, over and over, until they finally disappeared. Frustrated, you tossed your phone back into your purse and continued perusing the books. It felt like forever had gone by. You picked up your phone again just to check for a notification. Nothing. And it had only been 5 minutes. He was so eager before…what happened?

…

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Terzo was pacing back and forth in his office. He stared at his phone, no notifications staring back at him as if mocking him. He huffed and put his phone back in his pocket, and paced around some more, continuously pulling out his phone every 30 seconds.

His dearest had sent him the most salacious photo (which he immediately saved to his photo roll)…and he felt the heat rising in his trousers. Thank Lucifer he had no more meetings so he could fuck your brains out in his office.

He had responded to your last text inquiring the time and place, “Now. My office, ovviamente. Where else potrei scoparti in pieno giorno cosi forte da dimenticarti il tuo nome?” but you had not responded and he was growing more and more frustrated by the minute. Was the last text too much? Surely not; you had fucked in every scenario before – slow, fast, loving, passionate… aggressive. Maybe you weren’t feeling his assertive tone today? Oh, how he hated the increased paranoia and anxiety that came along with being in love; it drove him mad.

He opened up his camera roll, where he saved all your cheeky photos to his ‘hidden’ album. Texting the password to the album with his left hand, he started to thumb the erection forming in his pants. He leaned back in his office chair and kicked his legs up on the desk, scrolling through the photos while unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants with his right hand. He grabbed a few tissues from his desk and tossed his head back, imagining your mouth on him as he stroked himself faster and faster.

…

It was nearing 5 o’clock and you still had not heard from him. The day was over, and you decided to take up the Siblings’ offer of joining them for dinner and drinks. You headed over to the mess hall and grabbed a bite to eat, chatting with them over a pint and trying to enjoy Ghoul karaoke night (Alpha was “performing” in a series of barking and hissing). You felt a bit dejected, drowning your sorrows in French fries and lager, but tried to brush it off – figuring Terzo got busy during the day. Ever since he had been anointed Papa you saw less and less of one another.

You decided instead of feeling angry, you would reward his hard work with the best fuck he had ever received. You downed the rest of your drink to give yourself a little extra liquid courage, waved goodbye to your friends, and headed back to yours and Terzo’s bedchamber.

When you walked in, you found him leaning against the dresser, cigarette in his mouth and lighter in his hand. Just before he lit up, he caught your gaze and rolled his eyes. You hadn’t realized but your demeanor had changed as soon as you saw the cigarette, your brow furrowing in disdain.

“Come to piss on the fun again?” he huffed, shoving the lighter and unlit cigarette back into his pocket and walking into the bathroom.

“What?” you asked incredulously, following him. (“Not in our room!” you exclaimed the last time he lit one up in bed with you post-coitus.)

“See what you make me do!” He fumbled around in the top drawer of the double vanity, pulling out a nail file, and began to file his nails a little too forcefully.

You stood in the doorway and propped yourself against the doorframe.

He pointed the nail file at you. “You left me hanging today, amore.”

“Me?” you asked, still incredulous at his lack of self-awareness today. “What about you? I was waiting all day for you to tell me where to meet you.”

“Amore!” he exclaimed again, throwing his hands up in the air. His anxieties were building up in him like lava. “So I’m the problem again? I told you to meet me in my office. I waited for you all day – you see how crazy you make me? I even had to take care of this myself – ” He motioned down to his pants, a small tent already formed in his trousers.

You looked down and smiled at the sight. You couldn’t help feeling a little amused. In a way you felt powerful to have such an effect on him.

“Oh you think it’s funny, eh? Well we’ll see how you like being punished for such insolence.”

“Terzo my love, I was waiting for your response all day,” you assured him, but he wasn’t having it.

He exclaimed something unintelligible in Italian under his breath, throwing his hands into the air again then continuing to aggressively file his index and middle fingernails on his right hand. His face turned mischievous as he eyed you out of his peripheral. He turned to you and asked, “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Your face blushed instantly as you knew where his mind was headed. The arousal that had been building up between your legs all day suddenly came trickling down your thighs.

“Don’t act so innocent, amorina,” he said with a smirk. “I know you like to tease and brat, but I expected you to behave today.” He walked around you slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.

You gulped. “Check your phone,” you piped up. He rolled his eyes once more in response. You reached forward, trying to get to his pocket, but he easily swatted your hand away. “Check it!” you urged. “I would never leave you unanswered.”

He seemed skeptical but pulled out his phone and went to his messages. “Oh,” he said, suddenly changing tone. “It appears I did not hit ‘send.’”

“See?” you said triumphantly, trying to get past him to look at his screen, his futile attempts to keep you from looking failing. He tried to erase the message quickly but you read it just in time, blushing again at what he would’ve sent you.

He shook his head as if shaking off the embarrassment of his unnecessary theatrics. “This changes nothing. You should have known where to come and to obey me as soon as you saw the last message.”

You smiled at him, amused that he did not yet have the poise nor the patience that his older brothers had as head of the Satanic Church. He might’ve had a few forehead wrinkles, but sometimes he reminded you of a younger man. He certainly had the impetuousness and stamina of one.

You stepped back into the room, hooking one leg seductively over the leather armchair in the corner, exposing your upper thigh through the slit in your habit. “That’s right,” you said, running with his game. “I was so disrespectful to not heed your call right away.” You took off your veil, tossing your hair back and running your hands through it to smooth down the flyaways.

As you were busy trying to look as seductive as possible, he slid right up next to you, his hand reaching through the slit in your habit. He inhaled the scent of your hair and groaned under his breath, his hand pawing at the hem of your panties. His hand trailed against the cloth, feeling your wetness already saturating it.

“I thought of you all day,” you whispered against his neck, feeling his breath on your cheek, the smell of his spearmint gum washing over you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders affectionately.

“I can tell,” he said. His touch could be so soft and delicate – when he wanted to be – he had already snuck two fingers past the hem of your panties at your entrance. He brought his hand up his under his nose, thumbing your slick in between his fingers. He turned you around roughly and unzipped your dress in one motion. He tore the fabric off you, exposing you in nothing but your bra and underwear.

“Take them off,” he said, gesturing towards your panties. You obeyed swiftly, and tossed them to the side, wearing nothing but your bra now. As you did that, he took off his belt and kicked off his shoes. He folded his belt and snapped it, almost threateningly.

You eyed the belt from the side, your arms steadying you against the armchair. He had never used a belt on you before; you were only used to the palm of his hand, and he was usually quite gentle.

He saw the glimmer of fear in your eyes and came up behind you, placing the belt on the arm of the chair beside your elbow. “I’ll be gentle for today, amore,” he assured, slipping his hand between your thighs, teasing your wet entrance again. Instinctively, your shoulders relaxed and you sighed, relieved.

“But still you must be punished, no?” He took your chin in his free hand, forcing your face to the side, closer to his lips. You nodded in his hand, moaning slightly as his fingertips roamed around, pushing inside your entrance teasingly. “You see how horny you make me, mmh?” he whispered into your ear, groaning on the last syllable. He pressed his clothed erection against your bare ass, his cock twitching in his pants.

“Open,” he commanded, squeezing your mouth open. He gathered up a wad of saliva in his mouth and spat into your mouth, then clamped your mouth shut again. “Swallow.” You gulped. “That’s Papa’s brava ragazza. You’ll do anything I say.”

You eagerly anticipated his next move, wanting to feel his warm seed rush inside you after waiting all day for him, while simultaneously wanting him to take his sweet time antagonizing you and denying you your pleasure.

“What is my punishment, Papa?” you asked enthusiastically, hoping for him to continue using you.

“I think naughty girls deserve to get spanked by their Papa, don’t you?”

You whimpered slightly and nodded, your chin still in his tight grasp. “Yes Papa,” you feigned lament, hanging your head slack in his palm.

He released his grasp on you and withdrew his fingertips from your cunt, and you slumped over the armchair, holding yourself up by your elbows.

“You disobeyed me today,” he said warningly, palming your ass forcefully – yet still softly – massaging the area before striking again. You nodded in agreement. He cracked his belt again for dramatic effect. Crack! This time the leather hit you harder than his hand, stinging your skin a little. CRACK. You moaned louder, feeling the pain more now. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you mia piccola puttana?” he laughed, sticking his middle finger inside your cunt and feeling more wetness trickle out. He took his finger out and wiped your juices on your back before continuing.

Relentlessly he continued, spewing various obscenities at you in Italian. “Who do you belong to, whore?” he kept asking. “You, Papa!” you would shout through stifled yelps. Every few strokes he would sneak in a gentle touch to your raw skin, soothing the redness.

“You come to me when called next time,” he said. “I do not have all day to wait for some filthy slut to pleasure me. Nor do I have the time to take care of myself day in and day out.” He threw the belt to the side, opting for a more personal touch.

You whined in agreement, preparing for the next strike.

SMACK! he spanked you harder with the palm of his hand. “Mmm!” you mumbled, your flesh throbbing. SMACK! he struck you again.

“I am in meetings all day tomorrow,” he continued as if he was not ruthlessly punishing you and just striking up normal conversation. SMACK.

“Ah! Mmm – then I will be waiting for you here when you return after a long day.”

“No, you’ll be on your knees like the good little slut you are,” he said. Smack!

“But Sister will see – ah! – and anyone else in the room – ” you began but he stopped you.

“Silence!” he hissed, striking your ass once more, even harder this time. “It’s time you put your whore mouth to use and show everyone who you belong to, who you worship.”

All you could do was nod in agreement as he struck you across the ass again. Your skin was raw and aching, and you longed for a more delicate touch. Almost as if reading your mind, it seemed Terzo had ceased the punishments – for now. You peeked behind you and saw him hurriedly take off his clothes. Soon he was undressed, and soothingly caressing the red skin on your rear.

“Are you well, amore?” he asked in dulcet tones, lulling you into relaxation. “I know that was rougher than usual.” He touched your back comfortingly.

You trembled, still holding yourself up against the armchair, but nodded assuredly.

“Good,” he said, inching closer. You could feel the head of his erection prod against your thigh as he leaned in close to your ear. “We aren’t through. Are you ready to be bred like a brood mare by your Papa?”

You gasped as he took you from behind and grabbed you roughly by the hips. He pummeled into you uncompromisingly and determined. There was no graceful entry like when you usually made love; this one was a furious desperation of a man who needed carnal pleasure immediately. “Fuck – Terzo!” you exclaimed, adjusting to his length.

“Take it, whore! That’s it, Papa’s little cum rag. So fucking tight, Lucifer – fuck – cazzo!” he grunted through rough thrusts. You were that tight because he had not worked you up enough in between your punishment and his pleasure. Eventually after a dozen thrusts, you acclimated to his rhythm and pushed back into his cock when he rammed into you. That drove him wild. He cried out an indiscernible, animalistic noise that turned into a laugh. “Oh fuck – Satanas you do it so good – fuck –”

It always pleased you to hear your usually eloquent Papa turn into someone who could barely speak, all because he was inside you, bewitched. Your head spun and face flushed as he continued to pound into you, gripping your hips tighter and tighter until you could feel a warm liquid drip down the sides of your thighs. He was still going – he hadn’t cum yet…

He hastily grasped around your neck and clutched at your breasts until firmly grabbing your shoulder with his left hand, holding you tightly in place, and you smelled iron. You glanced down at your chest and saw bloody fingerprints across your skin. Sticky and metallic, the sensation hit you, making you dizzy. His right hand trailed across your thigh around to your front, smearing more blood along your side to your front.

He deftly parted your labia and circled your clit with his fingertips, mixing your blood with your cum and using it to glide over your sensitive bud.

You moaned, unable to speak clearly. You continued clutching onto the armchair for support, feeling weak at the knees. “Yes – right there – ” you muttered as he delicately fingered you while ruthlessly thrusting into your cunt from behind. You cried out in passion as he hit your g-spot and you could feel your orgasm was close.

“Esatto, ecco la mia brava ragazzina. Vieni per me, mio angelo del peccato.” As he rammed into you with precision, his breathing quickened until he was moaning your name. “Ho bisogno di te, ho…bisogno – di – te,” he stifled, cock quivering inside you.

You shuddered under him, your body trembling as you came. Your body rocked against his chest and he kept his rhythm, never breaking away from his hold on you. You cried out in ecstasy and slumped forward further over the arm of the chair, spent and breathless.

Wasting no time, he grabbed onto your elbows to pull you closer and thrust into you harder and faster. “Your cunt will be full of my seed – fuck!” he said. You yelped, wanting to relax but he drove through you to his climax, his warm cum coating your walls and seeping out onto your thighs. He groaned, finishing out his high on three final slow thrusts, until he collapsed on top of you. The both of you lay in a crumpled heap on top of the chair for a moment, catching your breath.

“Merda!” he exclaimed, pleased. He kissed your shoulder blade then got up, pulling out of you finally. He crouched down beside you and tucked your now unkempt hair behind your ear. “How is la mia principessa, hm?”

You nodded and smiled, closing your eyes contentedly but unable to speak just yet.

“Ah shit,” he said, looking you over and realizing you were bleeding from where his nails dug in too tightly around your hips. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder and took you into the bathroom, sitting you down by the bathtub.

“Ah,” you muttered, wincing. Your rear end was still throbbing from earlier and the cuts in your thighs were stinging.

He rummaged through the drawers and pulled out antiseptic, cotton balls, and bandages. He took a washcloth from the cupboard and ran it under the tap. He knelt down beside you and wiped away the bloody fingerprints all over your body. He wiped off the wounds on your thighs with such tender care you would not have guessed he was the same man fucking you senseless just moments ago. He put antiseptic on a cotton ball and swiped your cuts.

“Ouch!” you mumbled, the stinging overwhelming for a few seconds before subsiding.

“I am sorry I got overzealous, amore. You just make me so fucking crazy.” He opened the bandages and gently smoothed them over your skin, careful not to reignite the pain.

“It’s okay, love.” You smoothed back his hair and gazed lovingly into his eyes. He glanced down at your entrance, still leaking with his cum from moments ago. “It didn’t take,” you said.

“Mm?”

“I went back on the pill last week.”

“I know, tesoro. I saw the pill pack on the counter. It is fun to pretend.” He kissed your forehead.

Italian to English Translations

ovviamente (obviously)

[Where else] potrei scoparti in pieno giorno cosi forte da dimenticarti il tuo nome? (“[Where else] could I fuck you so hard in broad daylight you’d forget your name?”)

Amore (love/my love)

Amorina (love/sweetheart)

brava ragazza (good girl)

mia piccola puttana (my little slut)

cazzo (fuck)

Esatto, ecco la mia brava ragazzina. Vieni per me, mio angelo del peccato. (That’s right, my good little girl. Cum for me, my angel of sin.)

Ho bisogno di te (I need you)

Merda (shit)

la mia principessa (my princess)

tesoro (treasure)

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader

ao3 link | playlist

synopsis:

'It's at that moment you understand that you love him, you truly do, you always have. That you'll love him not just now but that you've loved, love and will love him forever.

How cruel it is that you can only realise this when you may lose him.'

—

An incident in 2018 spurs a reunion between you and an old friend, and after several conversations at daybreak and hours spent reminiscing on the past together, things go well.

That is, as well as they can when the lives you live threaten to rip this away from you every waking moment.

tags:

childhood friends, childhood friends to strangers to lovers ig?, not beta-read, other additional tags to be addedfem!reader - freeform, teen romance, young love, eventual romance, fluff and angst, slow burn, one-sided itadori yuuji x reader, reader is shoko ieiri’s student

chapters:

1. nostalgia

2. stasis

3. motion

4. placeholder

5. mess

6. beginning

7. conversation

8. tba

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you’d like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

hi, everyone! I’m so sorry for being away for about over a month, but it was mostly because I was working on this on ao3! it’s not completed yet, but I decided to post it on tumblr as well although it was originally intended to be posted on ao3 only (that’s where all my jjk stuff is, after all). although I’ll be posting each chapter on ao3 first, I’ll still make these posts on tumblr, though with relatively less effort— whenever I post things on tumblr, they rarely gain a lot of interaction, especially if I’ve spent a lot of time on them, which often results in me feeling very demotivated and like I shouldn’t keep going on…

if you’re interested, you can read it on ao3! (for now— I’ll get to posting this fic on tumblr soon enough)

[neetily]

Hi hi! I'm glad to see you again, I hope you're doing okay!!

I was wondering if you had backups for your follower event fics? If you did, I'd love to see the seb + sam fic where the reader was trapped in a fence. If you don't have access it's okay! I'm just glad you feel comfortable enough to come back. Take care <3

hello love! thank you so much for the warm welcome back <3 !! im doing so much better now, thank you :D !!

i have backups of ALL my fics surprisingly. i didn't know i would, i thought they were all lost lol... but ao3 emailed me every single one so YEAH, i have the fic ur looking for!! here it is below <3

— ✧ warnings: stuck trope, oral fixation, spitroast, blowjob, established relationship (fuckbuddies), fingering, drool, saliva, brief cunnilingus, kissing, ass slapping — ✧ word count: 3,928

The opportunity that you've so unfortunately provided them today is stressful for only one out of the three present, and she's currently only went and got her dumb ass stuck in that rickety old fence he's made a comment or two about fixing before. Even offered to fix it up for you himself, the few times he's leaned on it for stability have resulted in his complete mistrust for the splint wood, worried that it might end up hurting you one day. From his position though, and Sam's, it's rather funny to see you between the slats if nothing else. Told ya so rests heavily on the tip of his tongue, begging to be tutted down at you with as much ill-intent as he feels in his tight chest. But what escapes him instead is a loud whistle, a little walk around your embarrassing predicament so as to fully take in the regrettable situation you find yourself in, because someone has to do it, right? And it sure as fuck isn't gonna be you, your face squished against the dirt below, ass up in the air for them to gawk at— did ya have to wear a skirt today, too? Almost as if you were intending for them to walk in on the lewd sight, the kind of imagery that only exists in porn to his knowledge. Not that he's complaining, really. A smile tugging at his lips as he assesses the scene with butterflies in his tummy.

It's the perfect opportunity, really. A quick glance towards Sam offering him the filthy resolution he's been seeking. The cheeky smirk his friend wears in kind, an unspoken communication of: she won't mind, right?

Given that they've played with you on plenty occasions before; were you perhaps trying to entice them on purpose? Needy little thing like you, getting yourself stuck in such plain view like that, knowing that they were planning on visiting today to help around the farm; and not just an excuse to play with you some more, promise! His boot coming out quick to kick at the fence where you aren't posted, the shrill squeak you let out in return from feeling the vibrations run along your trapped body tells him all he needs to know.

You really are stuck, you fucking idiot.

He walks to your front, bending his knees to squat before you. One finger under your chin to help tilt your gaze up to his half-lidded stare, a knowing smirk on his lips when you let out a low huff of disapproval at his leering. "How'd this happen, then?" He cocks his head to the side, peripheral vision granting him clarity on what Sam intends to do as his friend gets situated behind you, gaze glued to your ass as you unknowingly wiggle around for freedom. All you're doing is teasing them, baby... Inherently provocative, pushing their buttons without even trying. So really, it's your own fucking fault that he's bulging in his pants right now, isn't it? Which is why he feels no guilt in openly palming away between his legs, cock already hot and heavy under his perverted touch while awaiting your surely useless reply— it doesn't matter what you have to say for yourself, he's already made his mind up. And he's sure Sam is much the same, cock quickly hardening from behind your ass at the wordless agreement to take advantage of you in such an erotic position. Wouldn't you do the same if the roles were reversed? Fuck, now that's an idea, huh?

After some time, what is in actuality probably just a few seconds of more than likely resigning to your trapped fate, you answer him with a sigh. "Was trying to fix it, like you suggested..." Course you were, he thinks to himself. Didn't think to ask him for help like how he had offered, Sam too. Knowing that a dumb little girl like you wouldn't know where to even start when it comes to fixing things, right? So it's no surprise to him that you've gotten yourself in such a sticky situation; in more ways that one, soon enough, if he and Sam have anything to do about it. And really, it's only their opinion that truly matters right now, if you want any kind of hope of escaping your self imposed confines today that is. "And— Look, I don't know exactly what happened, but I'm here now, and no matter what I do I can't get out..."

He finally lets go of that self serving tut upon your lacking explanation, smiling to himself at Sam's matching patronising laugh. It's more than a shared want to exploit you for your mishap, rather, a deep seated need to express their mutual affections for you, in perhaps the filthiest way possible. Because it's the most easily understood confession, right? The finger he's got lifting your chin up dropping, and your head swiftly follows, still eagerly palming away at the tent in his pants when Sam places a hand on your ass and you jump in response—as much as possible given your stuck position—in an honest display for their eyes to feast on. You're real cute when you're unsure, bunny.

"Need some help?" Sam asks rhetorically, but the tone he carries his words with resembles more like a sugary sweet coo rather than anything genuine. A flirt, to an extent, letting his hand lightly grab and squeeze at the fat of your barely covered ass; you always were so good at teasing them, weren't you? So you've got no one to blame but yourself when his thumb digs into your ass, pulling at the cheek to taunt your stupidity, giving you a brief wow at the assumed sliver of cunt you offer him from behind your panties. "It'd sure be a shame if someone were t'find you stuck like this, right?" He practically slurs from above, enamoured by the sight of your pretty panty clad ass greeting him. It's one he's grown used to, late at night in your bedroom, even once or twice in the saloon bathroom, taking turns with Sebastian on who keeps watch to make sure no one but themselves get to see the mess their cocks fuck you into. But nonetheless, it's a pretty sight. Especially when his fingers dig harder into your ass, so soft and plush under his perverted touch, aren't you? And so ripe for the taking too, a sweet fruit for him to indulge in while Sebastian talks all nicely to you. All platitudes and pleasantries, keeping the faux casual act up as a means to make the situation just a little hotter. And it gets to Sam, too. Cock pulsing in his tight pants as you wiggle under his exploring touch, driven to tease you some more with the low condescending hum Sebastian lets out, as if he were scolding you.

But he's not, is he? The drone of his voice conveying only appreciation, instead. A small thanks for offering them such a prime opportunity. "Oh, but someone has found you, haven't we?" He begins, the sound of his zipper surely causing you to shiver some more against Sam's hands, made worse only by the tinkle of his friends belt unbuckling, quickly dropping to the ground beside you with a muted thud! "You're lucky it was us, sweetheart," He continues, fighting with his jeans to be able to tug them down low enough to let his cock spring free, the cool air that greets his red hot tip prompting beads of precum to drip for you. Aren't you thirsty, baby? It's a rather warm day today, after all, and God knows how long you've been stuck there. Thankfully, he knows exactly how to help quench you.

"Lucky t'have your friends here t'help you out, right?" Sam picks up where Sebastian left off, taking a harsh suck of air through gritted teeth when he inevitably starts playing with your panties out of instinct. Pinging them against you like the sadist he seems to be, just to hear you whine and beg for mercy. And he laughs to himself, dark and deep, all toothy for Sebastian to mimic when Sam too hauls his cock out of his underwear. Sebastian can't help but noticed the throb of it, veins popped with all the blood collected there. God you're so pretty when you're being so easy for them like this, Sebastian's chest tight at the mere thought of abusing your sorry state of affairs, cock leaking for you before he's even enacted his twisted plans.

"Guys, please—" You plead so prettily, did y'know that? The honeyed tone you adopt can only mean one thing, simply hearing you implore them to be of any actual use is enticing enough, Sebastian's cock twitching and dripping before you. But he waits, listens patiently to hear your plea before denying you the right of salvation. You'll get there, soon enough, but don't you owe them something first? "I've been here for so long, it hurts a little... Can you quit teasing and actually help me?"

They both bark laughter down at you, Sebastian taking to idly fucking his fist while Sam lazily flips your skirt up, enough to allow him to hook a finger under the waistband of your panties to pull them down. Sebastian watches as they pool around your ankle, squeezing the base of his cock a few times in response to Sam's rolled back eyes. "She's so wet already, Seb." Sam rasps, immediately poking and prodding about your perfect angel cunt like routine, finger stroking out those dulcet toned moans for Sebastian to affectionately smile at. Dirty girl, do you like getting caught?

"This what you need help with, right?" Sebastian coos down at you, once again lifting your head up to meet his sultry gaze, swallowing thickly at the sight of your furrowed brows and wobbly lips. His own throat dries as you stare back at him, knowing that he could cum at just the mere thought of your open, wanting, ready to receive cock, mouth. And here you are offering him that sulky expression for free; God, makes his cock ache from how desperately he needs you. "Sure seems like it," He huffs, expression turned a little more serious in the face of your unashamed lust; you might need actual help in freeing yourself, but you can't resist the opportunity of their attack, can you? You're no fucking better than they are, panting over you as if you were the tastiest fucking meal in the world, teeth baring in barely contained excitement to take a bite of you.

And Sam only confirms your stance with how squishy your cunt sounds for him, squelching and sucking his fingers in every time he buries them knuckle deep in your cunt. Exploring your insides like he's done countless times before, and yet still he's impressed with how soft and warm you are. Just a little stretching to help you take his cock, right? You're so used to him by now, don't you love the stretch he provides you? "Bet y'did this on purpose, didn't ya?" He sneers, knowing you can't properly reply when he's flicking the pads of his fingers against your soft spot.

"No... Promise, ah— It— It was an honest mistake..." You mumble your innocence, but the sound of your whiny moans thanks to Sam's fingers deep in your cunt goes right through Sebastian, straight down to his raging hard on that needs attending to, now that you've went and riled him up so easily like that. Joining his friend in kind when he grabs hold of his cock, still keeping your face up for your glassy eyes to peer at him, only... He now angles his cock right in front of you. Dangles it there, waggling it just out of reach of your lips to enjoy your eager whining. He's acting cocky for a reason, confident in Sam's abilities to finger fuck you all better so that he can have some fun with that expert mouth of yours— fuck, so good with your tongue, aren't you? And if he's honest with himself, he'd rather be balls deep down your throat than in your cunt, even if only by a small margin. Taking the opportunity to tap his tip against your lips when they part in pleasure, all thanks to Sam. Toying with you to his hearts content as you remain prone to his mistreatment, smearing fat globs of precum all over your pretty lips to leave them all wet and glossy for him to admire. You wear him well, he thinks to himself. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head when you deftly poke your tongue out for him, he was right. You are thirsty, aren't you? Being stuck must be hard work, poor girl... He's more than happy enough to give you a little drink— ecstatic, even, at the prospect of having your cute pouty lips wrapped tight around his cock. Needs it, really. Now that you've gone and provoked his open book obsession by lolling your tongue out, drooling to the ground under you in a lewd display. You're just so attractive to him, his heart skipping a beat at the way your body begs for his unfair touch. He only means to help you, right?

He's only doing you a favour by dipping his tip to your tongue, exhaling sharply at the wetness that immediately greets him. This must be how Sam feels right now, yeah? Fingering slick from your cunt while Sebastian indulges in your spit. Letting you kitten lick at it for a bit, merely watching you with curiosity as your eyelashes flutter shut so prettily he has no choice but to fall to his knees in submission. Fuck, you're already making him feel so good. If he could keep your moth attached to his cock forever, he'd do so in a heartbeat. Warm, wet, and so skilled; fucked that tight throat enough times to train you into being his personal blowjob hole, huh? Seething to himself at the way you lap up all of the copious amounts of precum your tongue coaxes from his cock, eyes trained on the cute pout you soon adorn because Sam's found your sweet spot. Not surprising, given that he's usually deep in your cunt some way every weekend, but Sebastian reacts as he usually does. With a hushed curse under his breath, instinctively bringing a hand up to your lips to fish hook your mouth back open for him. Leaking pre at the feeling of your saliva coating his fingers, drool collecting down his wrist as your tongue once again pokes out for his own selfish enjoyment. Taught you well, didn't he?

It's just that you look so good with a mouth full of cock, don't you? Hovering above you, repositioning himself so that it's easier to glide his cock down your throat when Sam withdraws his fingers from your cunt, causing Sebastian to grown out of desperation when his friend starts to coat his own cock with your slick. He knows how slippery you can get, but the view he has of your face from above, adorned by an aware welling of tears from their unjust treatment of your wedged body right now, is something he'd rather be viewing. Something he'd rather be taking advantage of, pressing his fat tip to your wanting tongue just in time to feel you rush a gasp out against him when Sam ultimately pushes his cock into your tight heat from behind out of necessity. A natural conclusion to seeing you present your holes to them today, Sebastian too taking advantage of you by sinking himself deeper into your mouth, causing your moans from Sam's slow rutting into you to become muffled around his cock.

"Jus' cashing in a favour before setting you free, babe." Sam struggles to get out from behind you, and Sebastian lets you know he agrees by tauntingly tapping at your cheek a few times. More spit, baby.

And you take them both so well, like a well trained dog, or a practiced doll. Easily allowing them to use you to their hearts content, a seedy sordid type of affair as they both fill you up all at once, leaving you a mere object of their affections as you're forced to accept their spitroast. But you're such a champ, God, Sebastian shoving his cock as far as he can down your tight throat until you start to gag a little, sweet little sounds vibrating around his tip for him to shudder a breath at. And Sam, eager to get the party started as per usual, offers you a brief smack on the ass with a wide grin. His tone tense when he praises you with: "So good, tight fuckin' body just wants to be fucked, right?" before he starts a quick enough pace to leave even Sebastian a bit winded from the sudden stimulation provided by your soft tongue rocked back and forth his throbbing cock.

Not that Sam can be faulted, mind you. Sebastian, too, wants to start ruining you, two palms secure on your cheeks to keep your head situated in the right place for him to fuck your throat in. Bending his body towards the fence, leaning his head against the broken post for stability so that all you can see is his pelvis, nose pushed up against his pubes every time Sam greedily fucks you forward. Sebastian winces a little at your movements, knowing that the wood might be scraping against your tender frame with how selfish Sam's thrusts are, but he can't bring himself to say anything about it when your tongue snakes around his length so well, just the way he likes. A blessing and a curse, honestly. Drool collecting in your mouth for him to fuck into, completely coating his cock in all of your saliva, feeling some of it dribble down your chin to land on his balls when he starts to fuck your throat in tandem with Sam's humps. Which is so fucking hot by the way, fuck— how you're unable to contain yourself, dribbling all over him so nicely that his tummy flips with excitement. You deserve some more praise for indulging him, he thinks. For getting yourself stuck in the first place, as well as for servicing them so perfectly; but your tight throat leaves him gasping for air. Panting over the fence as he takes in the sight of Sam's determination too, greedy hands gripping harshly to your hips, brows knitting together in sheer focus of your tight angel cunt. And then, their eyes meet. Mid stroke together, matching each others speed and intensity flawlessly as you choke and sputter between them, bet your squishy thighs are trembling together too, huh? Your dainty hands attempting to find purchase in the ground below as Sebastian's balls repeatedly knock against your chin, tacky with spit as his fat cock cuts off your air supply.

And what's a little kiss shared amongst friends, right? It wouldn't be the first, and it sure as shit won't be the last from how enthusiastically Sam leans forward, tongue already wetting his lips before Sebastian meets him with heated arousal. Openly moaning down each others throats as soon as possible, listening intently to your wet little cunt suck Sam's cock off so well, and your muffled whines for more when Sebastian pulls your head closer to his crotch with every desperate fuck down your throat. You're so perfect for them, pretty pursed lips wrapped so nicely around his pulsing cock, one of his hands slipping to the back of your head in plain need to fuck deeper, to feel the way your throat closes around his dribbling tip as you're forced to drink up all his spilling precum; just like how he's made to swallow every drop of saliva Sam drips onto his tongue, less sharing a heated kiss and more so acting like dogs. Lips barely pressed together, tongues interlocked, delving into each others mouths without ever fully closing the kiss, resulting in drool pooling onto your exposed ass.

It's all a bit too much for Sebastian. To be doing something so lewd out in public— fuck, anyone could walk by, couldn't they? And maybe they already have, greeted to the sight of the towns cute little farmer getting fucking abused by her best friends fat cocks, watching the way Sam and himself encourage the other to continue degrading you on your own turf by way of the intense kiss they share, moaning, humping, hands slipping and cocks gliding; God that's so hot, isn't it?

Hot enough for his fingers to intertwine in your hair, tugging on it harshly as a warning for his approaching orgasm. Sam, too, slaps your ass again once pulling away from the kiss. A look of pure pleasure on his face, coated in a light sheen of spit for Sebastian to stare at with adoration. Both huffing and moaning above you, too lost in the satisfaction your pretty body provides them to give you the compliments you deserve, too busy making themselves feel good by fucking your tight little holes to verbalize their thanks, their appreciation.

But you understand, right? You know that as Sam gives you a final brutal fuck, resting his heavy balls against your sopping cunt, bullying his tip against your cervix as a fat load shoots out just for you, that he's saying thank you, right? And that when Sebastian shoves his cock right down your closing throat, ignoring the sweet sputters for air you choke around him, the way you flail around is so fucking hot, fuck, keep struggling to take him, baby, keeping your face flush against his pelvis so that he can properly reward you with his spilling seed to coat your throat all sticky, that he's saying thank you too, right? Both men heaving above and behind you, revelling in the feeling of your still needy body attempting to suckle them some more in hopes of reaching your own end, fuck, so good. Poor thing, they've neglected to appropriately tend to you in their rush to use you, haven't they?

But as Sam pulls out of your stretched hole, Sebastian follows. Hearts in his eyes at the way you immediately hack and cough towards the ground, drool still yet dripping from your pretty lips for him to smile lovingly at.

Not a word is shared, Sebastian content enough just to watch you struggle some more while Sam repositions himself to lay on the ground, face up towards your cunt as his arms wrap around your lower back, gently tugging you a bit closer to his nose for him to huff at your sweet cunt scent. Gross, isn't it? How the semen that sticks to your hole makes it smell all the better to him, dirty fucking pervert that he is.

A single lap at your slit is all it takes to have you moaning again, and for inspiration to strike Sebastian and his still rock hard cock.

Maybe he can have a shot of your cunt now, yeah? Or, maybe he'd like to shut you up again. Keep your cock holster mouth quiet so no one can find them forcefully misusing you. He does so love fucking that pretty mouth of yours, finding himself staring down at it again as you whimper oh so seductively for them.

They're only doing it to help you though, remember?

[carlos-in-glasses]

I'm having some thoughts and feelings, for reasons.

The feelings are that I'm so grateful for this beautiful fandom and the beautiful couple in the picture above. The thoughts are beneath the read more and can be taken or left. The picture cannot be left, however. Taken is the only option. You need to see it because look how cute they are!

For prosperity:

Something I always 'explore', if you will, in my own writing is how people process the concept of time. Endings, beginnings, the past and the future linking up. Your past self always being with you like a spectre. The present feeling like a marble rolling around a tube... I think this is because I'm not good with change or saying goodbye, but I do know that endings always lead to something else. Which is scary, because you don't necessarily know what that will bring.

Thinking about all of the above in terms of Lone Star is a different beast for me personally, because I've never had this kind of experience with a show or characters before, where I'm so compelled by it that I found my way into the fandom and have been creatively stimulated to the point of writing 25+ fics for it (which isn't nearly as many as others have produced! But to me it feels significant). So for that reason I want to say: When the show ends -(WHENEVER THAT MAY BE) - the characters don't. They don't end, not really. As long as we choose to keep talking about the themes, sharing meta posts, writing them or drawing them or creating gif sets, and revisiting them in rewatches or YouTube clips - there they are. Always. Either suspended in their moment and so easy to revisit in all their glory, or put in new situations in fic and art even years into the future. If this hiatus has taught us anything, it's that even without the show on air, there are still plenty of stories to tell and interpretations to be had, based on what came before. When the show ends, the thing that will unfortunately go is the speculation aspect, but what we have instead is a beautiful completed work that can inspire and be meaningful forever to those who already love it and for those who will find it in the future - and it will be found. Anything that exists can be found. (See: deep sea fish that glow in the dark (!)). And things that don't exist can be imagined.

We're so lucky to be the ones in the know when it comes to the show and to Tarlos. We know how special it is, what a gift it is. I'm not a spiritual person but I do feel oddly spiritual when it comes to this. Idk.

Something I've always hoped (as I'm sure we all have) is that we would know ahead of time that it's over. The show not being renewed between seasons is a thought that horrifies me to my core. I remember thinking towards the end of season 4: "At least if it doesn't get renewed, it ends with Tarlos being canon-married." Which, as a Tarlos super-fan, was my no.1. concern, but I love and care about the other characters too of course.

Going into season 5 and fearing it could be the last season, I had a huge tummy ache wondering if Tarlos would be on the rocks. If they ended on a cliffhanger having assumed season 6 was on the cards, we'd never get a resolution. But Rafa's Cameos have really eased my mind in that regard. Based not only on the tiny amount he's given away, but the way he talks about them loving each other, it sounds like they're going to be okay - and we're going to see it for ourselves that Tarlos really is endgame. In a time when hope is needed, we do have this. AND we have each other! As long as Tarlos ends happy, I for one intend to keep dancing, even if it means I'm the eccentric up on the table on my own doing the robot. But I would always like others to dance with.

Whatever happens, which we don't officially know yet, we can get through it together.

[clare-with-no-i]

theogony part 1 behind the scenes

**SPOILERS ahead for theogony and mild spoilers for Outlander!**

this is just going to be a long infodump of all of the things I pondered while writing theog (specifically part 1, part 2 will come later) but never talked about! I'll try to go chapter by chapter, and maybe I'll end up adding more later on, but for now I just think it'd be fun to chitchat and reminisce on some of my favorite tidbits. this story is really my baby idk :")

Prologue - Alalá

one thing that I wanted to establish in the prologue, other than the obvious James-Sirius dynamic, is the presence of otherworldly or spiritual premonitions in this universe. it was always important to me that the first person who actually made any sort of prophetic declaration was James.

so much of the story relies on Lily's status as an oracle, but this little tidbit here helped build the world for me so much; we can't be sure if James's various dreams and premonitions are wishful thinking, or really the Gods speaking to him, or something else entirely. of course, this story deals with time travel, so there's an inherent supernatural element. but Lily and James's conflicting – and sometimes competing – conceptions of God felt like such a necessary tension for me to explore. it was such an incredible shorthand for the tension between modern and ancient sensibilities. and we never get a definitive answer to those looming questions, which I knew I wanted to do from the outset. did the Gods bring Lily back to the past? did James? did she do it herself? does God/the Gods even exist?

also: there are probably moments where I failed to do this, but I tried to capitalize Gods in all of the James chapters but not in Lily's, unless she was referring to the Abrahamic Capital G God. that is, until the last chapter, which I'll elaborate upon later :)

also: i wrote the prologue first, then the epilogue, and then i posted the prologue pretty immediately after. I had the entire story roughly outlined but I absolutely jumped the gun when it came to posting the prologue LMAO I didn't even really announce the story, I just joked about writing it and then posted the prologue, which you can see from the beginning note. i remember Suze was about to go to sleep and she started messaging me like wtf Clare what do you MEAN?

and the rest was history (pun completely intended)!

Chapter One: Ouroboros

the narrative brushes past the other statues in this section pretty quickly, but I always imagined that the first bust is Philoctetes, James's father. I think the consensus on this one tends to oscillate between Philoctetes and Aristides, which is another great interpretation.

The reason I wrote it this way and imagined it to be Philoctetes is because I thought it would have been nice to let Lily 'meet' James's father (in a sense), even before she 'meets' him. when I read this chapter back after I first finished the story, I had a very soft moment where I close-read my own fic (lol) and thought that maybe it was Philoctetes who sent Lily back to the past. maybe he sensed something about her and knew she'd be right for James and for antiquity.

sooo many people forgot about this! which i was hoping for!!!!! I was hoping everyone would forget about James's statue holding something until the Big Reveal. fun fact is I wrote the reveal right after this. I liked the idea that, no, he was never going to actually be holding anything. he'd be reaching for Lily. the choice to accept his hand was always going to be hers.

a fun fact about this chapter is that I had to pull from a bit more Outlander lore than I originally thought. and no I don't mean the 'Jesus H Roosevelt Christ' part lol. It was always hilarious to me how Outlander set up Claire to be the objectively perfect person to go back in time. she was a combat nurse who happened to develop an interest in medicinal botany and Scottish-English history. she also happened to spend her formative years with her adventurous archaeologist uncle after her only living relatives died. like girl. lol.

so I had to really toss up which traits I thought it would be appropriate for Lily to have as she traveled back in time. the biggest one, obviously, is her field of study, which was necessary given the language barrier and the completely foreign nature of social norms in Classical Athens. I toyed around with the idea of making her mum a nurse so as to give her some base medical knowledge, but that felt a) unnecessary given the circumstances of the story, and b) far-fetched that she would have gleaned enough transferable skills to apply in 479 BCE.

it was also fun to give her more reason to go back to the future; she has a sister who, while they aren't in contact, is a significant emotional attachment; she has academic goals; she has a best friend (however toxic we know him to be). it added a layer of conflict that I enjoyed playing up, even if I definitely could have explored her modern life more fully.

Chapter Two: Kinesis

soooo much exposition and worldbuilding in this chapter. oml. it was so much fun to play around with the reasons why James would be in Tatoi in the first place; I can't remember quite how I landed on the Persian auxiliary soldier thing, it might have been from my initial (admittedly extensive) research on the months leading up to Plataea; it may have just been the fact that I KID YOU NOT this story used to take up all of my fucking brainspace. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I'd be doing work for my research fellowship and just daydream about theogony. the initial idea came to me AS A JOKE!!!!! when i was idly pondering before going to sleep (as one does), and then it just wouldn't leave me alone. i kept imagining what it might look like. I thought about how the time travel might work. I thought about James's Greek equivalent. I ranted to my sister and her dog (he did not care) about what the statue might look like and mean (sorry bestie love u).

one narrative decision that has given me a bit of strife was the Dimitrios-James name change. I've had a number of people ask me if I'd ever try to pubilsh theog – and this is one of the (many) reasons why that would be pretty categorically impossible. using James's English name in his internal narration, instead of the name I give him as a Greek man, is something that only translates to fic. it makes pretty much no sense at all if you consider these original characters lol.

honestly putting the word 'practicum' in here caused me SO much pain. in James's chapters I tried really hard to use words which had Greek roots and not Latin roots, even if they're in modern English today. in most of his chapters, I'd try and find synonyms for big/complex words so I could use ones that came from Greek. it just helped me stick to his narrative voice a bit more.

I forgot how much STUFF went on in this chapter. oh my god SO much happens?? we get the lack of the Parthenon as the time marker (felt very clever doing that), Lily processing the fact that she's time traveled (lazy writing on my part to not have this happen in a Lily POV chapter but I'll take that on the chin), the Plataea reveal. OML. tired just thinking about it. lily sweetie i am so sorry

guys, the amount of time I spent wondering if I should Greek-ify Sirius's name is insane. For so long I thought about making him Seirios, which is the original Greek version of Sirius. But I felt like I had already messed with their names too much, and so I left it. but honestly I'm still torn. looking back, maybe it would have been the right move to make him Seirios and have Lily give him the name Sirius, but I guess we'll never know!

one of my favorite Sirius moments, and something that, essentially, sets up the rest of the story. but I wanted there to be a little ambiguity throughout the story about how much of this Sirius actually believes.

we know that James has just confessed to Sirius and Pétros that he was hoping they'd desert the Athenian army. we know that he thinks he's going to die, and he's adopted this sort of fatalist view of his future. and then here you have Sirius, who could never abide such a thing, pretty much leaning into the idea that Lily can tell the future – which would allow him to challenge James's prediction. I always wanted to leave it up to interpretation, and I know it comes up in later chapters (at the komos especially), Sirius's skepticism about Lily's origins. but it's such a fun question to ask: does he really believe that she's the Oracle that James prayed for, or does he just need that to be true so he can try and influence the future himself?

Chapter Three: Peribolos

omg. lol. the chapter three opening academic argument scene. this is a favorite of mine, and something I had so much fun writing. it's actually based on an argument/"spirited discussion" I had with my dad a few years ago about moral absolutism versus moral relativism which forced me to interrogate and expand my knowledge on the subject. I thought it was such a fun way to get into Lily's politics and her character without doing crazy exposition in the ancient world.

it also touches upon one of the touchstone themes of the story: that to study something is, in a way, to detach yourself from it. academia is routintely completely disconnected from its subject matter, and it creates this weird disdain for lived experience versus book knowledge. Lily has spent upwards of ten years studying (in some capacity) the ancient world, but she is so utterly out of her depth when she experiences it herself. as such, she espouses these very revolutionary politics when examining historical conflicts, but she has a blindness to what the real-world realities may have been for the people living in those conditions at the time.

alsooooo, The Return of Martin Guerre is one of my favorite books I read in college, and the easter egg here is that it's about a person of dubious origin entering a community and the politics of how the community might accept or reject them. ha ha!

^^based on something I said in an argument with a Poli Sci major in college and I have to say one of my better moments. was an absolute haymaker. this was very 'author gives main character a zinger' of me and I will not be ashamed of it

this! ladies and gentlemen! this was basically a declaration of love!!!! to be loved is to be remembered!!!

in a very romantic way, the study of history can be such an act of love to those who lived before us. i just adore the idea that, even before Lily developed real romantic feelings for James, she had this itching sort of feeling; AKA, when someone has made such an impression on you, and you know (or in her case, you think) that you'll be leaving them at some point, and you just want to be interesting enough, be impressive enough, that they remember you, that they think of you randomly as time goes on. that is such a giddy hallmark feeling of having a crush, in my book. I liken it to making eye contact with someone or having a brief conversation on a night out, maybe at 3am on your way back from a bar when things are sleepy and dizzy, and you just have this sense that you're being seen in that moment as anyone you want to be. i love this moment so much I feel like I could give it its own meta LMAO

Chapter Four: Hamartia

this chapter really put the pedal to to the metal lol. at the time of writing the story, I generally didn't (and still don't) love fake dating that much as a trope; I don't typically love plotlines predicated on (even harmless) deceptions, it's just a sensitivity of mine that I don't expect anyone to relate to or share. but when I was considering how to structure theog, it just made so much sense for James and Lily's arcs to have them get 'married.' there was no way that Lily was going to be able to navigate Classical Athens as an unsupervised woman alone, and even with the Oracle title offering her some protection, there was nothing really tying her to James. much like Outlander, it really did feel like the last possible resort, which softened me to the idea of using the trope.

fun fact, i got a snarky comment a few months ago complaining that i was trying to pass the story off as historically accurate (lol to the fifteen disclaimers I embedded throughout which addressed that) and one thing they took issue with was that lily wouldn't have been able to own property and the only thing that would have kept her from being a slave would have been marriage.

which! yknow! none of which contradict the story! but anyway I digress.

I was initially nervous about how early on the fake marriage happens; we don't really know the characters that well yet, we're not sure who James is as a potential partner to Lily, or how Lily's feelings for him are starting to bump up against her very rightful and justified desire to get the hell out of dodge. but – we only really see James in canon as a husband and as the father to the main character, so it felt pretty true to the source material to throw him into being a husband pretty early.

I loved writing this scene with Aristides. I've always been partial to his appearances throughout the story, and this one is just so special to me. I think of him as a driving force in humanizing the ancient world in theog, sometimes even more so than the main cast of characters. to elaborate a bit on that: with the Marauders and Lily and the other transplanted HP characters, I think there's this inherent sense that they are already fleshed out people (to some degree) even before they hit the page of the story, because they appear in canon and across Marauder fic verses. no matter how much I make James into Dimitrios and Peter into Pétros and Fleamont into Philoctetes, people know them and love them outside of theogony verse. but not Aristides. he doesn't have a one-to-one HP character. there is some version of him that really existed in 479 BCE (my complex and largely negative feelings on RPF are setting off alarms at this but we proceed) and that's it.

it would have been easy to just give him this very gruff and surly character, to make him a military general who didn't care about anything other than the war. I think that's how we conceptualize historical people sometimes, often without meaning to. but he was a person, and he had likes and dislikes, he probably had a family and maybe he'd fallen in love, and it was such an honor to give him such dimension. not to say that I'm putting that personality upon the actual historical person; but just to really take my time with a character outside of the Marauder canon. in this scene he has this human moment where he reminds James that, yes, love is a worthy pursuit, even to those in positions of incredible power. even when the discussion isn't about romantic love but about James's love for his closest friends. it's this permission that James didn't even know he was seeking but ultimately that changes the course of his and Lily's lives. Aristides is who James might become, in many ways. in the actual Plataea chapter this becomes more and more prevalent. (more on this later!)

overall, I am forever hoping that people come out of reading this story with an appreciation for the humanity of those that came before us. I did a poor job with other characters in this story, and I own that, but I'm proud of how I wrote Aristides.

oh my godddddd I fucking love this part. i am so fucking proud of it. LMAO. achieving wordplay in an ancient language that i have never studied should be on my fucking CV I swear. like this was just perfect I'm sorry I am BUZZING that I pulled this off.

also, a cute way to introduce a phrase to the narrative which will become very important: se filo!

I remember that I wrote this passage, which many people commented on and which I loved writing, in a coffee shop on a sunny day when my cousin was visiting me to introduce me to his girlfriend. there wasn't any wifi in the coffee shop so I was blessedly devoid of distractions and could only focus on the doc, and i was LOCKED IN let me tell you.

when my cousin and his girlfriend arrived I told them I was sending an important email and edited the last sentence of that paragraph about four different times while they sat in silence and waited for me to finish LMAOOO

Chapter Five: Ascesis

a profoundly insane moment in my personal history was reading excerpts from Eudemian Ethics, Nichomachean Ethics, and Memorabilia just to passively mention them in a flashback in a fic. relied heavily on Foucault for this, I will be so honest. why did i do that tho. like girl take a breath...

but in all seriousness this was just a joy to write. i miss being a history student and having these discussions – law school is great, but history classes will forever hold my heart ngl! also, this passage is in some ways an homage to my grandfather, who is one of my favorite people ever. he taught himself Classical Greek and Latin when he was in his 20s, before he went to medical school (and get his pilot's license for fun, he's seriously the most interesting guy alive). he gifted me his leatherbound Great Books printings of Aristotle's works and of the Iliad and the Odyssey shortly after I started theogony, and I cherish them so much. he spurred my interest in ancient greece when i was young. so this is for him :)

one of the hardest things for me to articulate (and maybe something I could have done better) was the war and the balance between James's inherent goodness and his growing feelings for Lily. i wanted her to have plausible reason to think that he doesn't at all feel romantically towards her, even as she's growing to admire him more and more. I hoped, as I wrote the story, that these little interactions where the reader clues into his feelings (this protective 'peninsula' moment being one of them) still walked that line. as in, i wanted lily to reasonably believe that he's just that good of a guy that he would take issue with anyone being taken advantage of, not just her. she's so destabilized in this moment as well, I think that worked to my advantage. or I hoped it did LOL.

from what I remember of writing this chapter, it just came really quickly and naturally. much more than the later ones. this early period of writing was just an outpouring of the ABSOLUTE BRAINROT I was going through after conjuring up the idea for the story. it just flew. the ending scene where they have their little almost-moment was probably about an hour's worth of writing. it's like I couldn't type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. not sure i've experienced that since!

also, the now, here, alive line reappears in the last chapter, which is one of my favorite callbacks:

:) :) :)

Chapter Six: Kleos

one thing I used to worry about CONSTANTLY is that I was losing the classic (and necessary!) Marauder goofiness to the more somber setting. so it was a jaunt and a boon to write scenes like the opening one here, where it honestly could be copy-pasted into the Gryffindor Common Room and it'd look a lot like my canon stories.

he's just a dude being hungover and embarrassed about the previous night with his bros!

the first time we get a hint of Pétros disappearing to dubious locations!

this chapter was one of the most research-heavy. it was a new setting, filled with new characters, and predicated entirely upon planning the Greek front at Plataea. so if I couldn't nail that down (at least to some degree), I was going to have trouble. of course I took liberties, but I spent a lot longer combing through sources for this chapter than some other ones, I'll tell you that for free. it took ages to find any treatises on ancient athenian sword combat, sigh.

yeah I mean i remember thinking that the subtitle for this chapter could have been 'I am going to create an environment that is so toxically masculine' because that's pretty much the whole vibe. James is not immune to that, either, and that was intentional. he feeds off of the violence and the anger of the men surrounding him, and he exhibits some behaviors in this chapter (rushing off to kill Anaxagoras after he grabs Lily's arm, for instance) which are not ideal! but I do think that there's meaningful conversation to be had about Lily's cultural assimilation into an ancient, misogynistic society, and how there was absolutely no way I was going to get out of this story without giving James some sort of period-typical attitude. now again, I took the liberties I deem necessary, because I have no desire to make my main romantic lead into an asshole. that's not my James Potter. not that that's news [gets taken out by a sniper]

i got CLOWNEDDD for referring to this dude as Dion son of Dion but idk what to tell you!! that's how the old documents referred to him!!! i didn't make that shit up I swear to god!!!!

also - that's the actual text of the Oath of Plataea, except (as Lily points out) it should read Athena Areia. is it likey that she'd remember this off the dome? no. is it possible that she just recognized the missing descriptor from context clues? yes. did i care enough to explain this either way? no, no i did not.

the Big Ticket Item of this chapter, though, is the oh.

and it wasn't just an oh, it was an oh followed by this innocuous conclusion that isn't even about Lily. i made myself laugh so hard with that. he's just like 'oh god my friend is going to wave this over my head FOREVER' and you know what? he's right!

as for the previous paragraph in that passage, I pulled a bit of a bait and switch, but not as badly as you might think! it was a risk to even bring up the idea that James could leave Athens, because I know it spurred some people into thinking that he'd go to the future with Lily (sorry babies that was not on the table). but what I intended for this passage (however successful it may or may not have been) was to just…allow him a moment of real, visceral empathy for the sensation of displacement that Lily's experiencing, and as well, introduce the idea that he might leave the life he's cultivated in Athens. his entire upbringing has been himself, the consummate Athenian man, surrounding himself with people from outside of Athens and drawing from their experiences, but never venturing outside of his little realm. in so many ways, the story questions what Lily's relationship with 'home' is (especially later on), but it always felt necessary to me to reckon with how 'home' may change for James as well.

finally:

yeah honestly i just remember the exact moment i thought of this passage. i had been reading the secret history (shoutout Donna Tartt i idolize and fear you) and i was lying down in my local park in the summer. I just thought about the Greek myths I knew, and the kind of cosmic horror that it is to really admit you're falling in love with someone, that they have this power over you that you didn't anticipate. and that closing line of the scene really struck me out of nowhere – I wrote it down in my notebook and just stared at it for a good few minutes. it's still one of my favs of the story :)

ok! if you made it this far, you are just amazing. this has to be a few thousand words at least. TYSM!!!!

see you all later for the part 2 BTS ❤️

[pedroshotwifey]

Joel Fucking Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (Can be pictured as either HBO or Video Game version)

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, Smut with a lil garnish of angst, kinda mean Joel, Borderline Dark!Joel, but consent is given at a point, one singular spank, rough piv sex, exhibition kink, slight humiliation/degradation, possessive behavior, enemies to lovers-ish?, reader is a menace but we love her, spit kink, anal play, this is pure filth and I'm not sorry

Summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.

A/N: Now that I have all of my one-shots posted, I'm going to start posting my ongoing stories as well as some new works. I'm almost finished with the Frankie Sex Pollen fic so that will be posted sometime this week. I will also be working on creating both a masterlist and a recommendation list, so hopefully that should be done soon too. Thanks for reading!

***

Today has been a shitty fucking day—no pun intended. 

Not to say every day isn’t shitty here in the QZ, but this one really takes the cake. To start your fabulous day, you woke up an hour late, making you one of the last people in line to pick up jobs. When you got to the assigning station, you found that you had been left with two options for the week: janitorial service at one of the mess halls, and sewer duty—where you literally have to shovel shit. The only card left for the mess hall was an all-day shift. You took them both.

That's why you find yourself here now, below the city, finishing up sewer duty, covered head to toe in stench and sweat even though it’s the middle of winter. You’re pretty sure you are the last one down here; it’s been a while since you saw or heard anyone else. You aren’t surprised. You’re used to being the only one who cares enough to actually finish whatever job you were tasked with that day, no matter how repulsive it may be. 

You don't take pride in much, but you are willing to admit that you admire that quality about yourself. You are a damn hard worker and you aren’t afraid to show it. You have no idea where it stems from, maybe your stubbornness, or possibly your inner perfectionist. Whatever it is, you find yourself often wishing that more people would have the same mindset. God knows it would make your life easier at the very least. In the time you have spent in the Boston QZ, you have only had the pleasure—or maybe you should say displeasure—of meeting one other like-minded person. 

You became acquainted with Joel Miller within the first day of being in the QZ, which was about three years ago now. The first glance you got of him was as you were being hauled through the gates, lucky enough to have not been shot on the spot when a couple of FEDRA officers caught you hiding out in the woods. Your eyes met his before they met anyone else's, and he’d held your gaze, his expression anything but welcome, as if he were trying to evaluate you with one look. 

By the looks of it, he had to be at least a couple of decades older than you, but that didn’t stop the heat that started to simmer between your legs at the first glance you got of him. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you took it as a challenge and forced yourself to keep your gaze on him until he was completely out of sight. You knew what you were doing, and so did he, both of you deciding on the spot that you would be enemies until one of you either died or left. 

Sure, you knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to piss people off before you made any allies, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. From the first second you saw that man, you knew that one way or the other—one of them being a heated feeling you chose to ignore—he would be trouble. As per usual, you were right. If you didn't know any better, you would have said that he was dead-set on following you around, bumping into you at almost every job you took. At first, you had been convinced that he had been doing just that.

 The first couple of times it happened you considered it some stupid coincidence, some twisted kind of unluckiness. Granted, it wasn't every time, but it was more often than not, and that was more than enough for you. By the fifth or sixth time out of ten, you waited until the very end of the shift, until it was only Joel and yourself left working. You kept a close eye on him, and as soon as he started wrapping up, you cornered him. That had been the first time that you had ever actually spoken to each other instead of tossing nasty glances back and forth. 

You had immediately gone to work with your rushed interrogation, demanding him to tell you why he was following you, to tell you what his problem was. The most frustrating part of the whole ordeal was the way he had sat back, leaning on one leg with his arms crossed, his expression bored as he waited for you to finish. He said nothing until he was positive that you had nothing more to say. 

“I ain't followin’ you, kid,'' he had said, his voice deep and more pleasant than you would have liked it to be. His tone was hard, as you had expected it would be, but the tangy southern drawl and depth of his voice took you off guard, an unwelcome heat suddenly forming between your legs—which only pissed you off more. 

The stone-cold look in his too-pretty eyes only worsened the feeling, and suddenly you found that you weren't able to speak; you didn't even know what you had come up to say at this point.  “Don’t fuckin’ bother me again,” he muttered and pushed past you before you could realize you had been staring.

***

“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all day?” A much too familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Speak of the fucking devil. 

“Just finishing up, Miller,” you spit, not bothering to look in his direction. You can hear him start to walk up to you but you ignore it, opting instead to actually finish what you had been doing. It only takes a few more seconds, and by that time, you can practically feel Joel staring a hole into your back, no more than a few feet behind you now. 

He doesn't move, so you continue to ignore him and start walking to the ladder so you can get out of this literal shit hole. You only make it a few steps before you realize that he is moving with you, following at the same distance he had stopped at before. Your jaw ticks as you spin around on your heel, so suddenly that Joel almost knocks into you.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him as sweetly as you can manage, the fire in your eyes contradicting your tone. His own eyes narrow as he takes a step back, crossing his arms in his usual fashion. 

“Maybe you should learn how to help yourself first before you go offerin’ it to other people, princess.” He says the name as an insult, and you have to bare your teeth to keep your composure. 

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, old man?” You ask him, taking a step toward him. He doesn't back away this time, instead taking a step toward you in reciprocation. The two of you lock gazes and stare at each other for what could have been ten seconds or ten days before Joel breaks the trance and shoves past you instead of answering. 

You just stand there and let him climb the ladder to the street above you. You can see right through him, the asshole wants a reaction, and you're not going to grant him that satisfaction—not this time anyway. 

You wait for a few minutes until you can be sure that he's long gone before you grit your teeth and turn on your heel, walking to the ladder and hoisting yourself up. As you reach the surface you catch a whiff of yourself and scrunch your nose. You need a fucking shower.

***

The next day, you wake up in a sour mood, already dreading today's job—janitorial services. At least it's not scooping shit this time. You’re the first one there, as per usual. The hall is a mess after breakfast and you take a deep breath as you think about the fact that even after you scrub it spotless, it will be trashed again by the end of lunch and then again after dinner.

To top it all off, it's ridiculously cold in the room, the fire lit in the back of it not doing much to increase the temperature. You look down at your white cotton t-shirt under your flannel and find yourself wishing you had put a thicker undershirt on.

There aren't many people working with you on the first shift, only the usual other three this morning, not that you're complaining of course, it just means fewer people to get in your way. You keep your eyes to yourself most of the time, only looking at someone if they address you to ask for help or to comment on something. Before you know it, lunch has come and gone and you are preparing for dinner. 

You notice halfway through that time that your friend is working the second shift, and she approaches you so you can work together for the rest of the time, though she only has the after-lunch shift. Rachel is a hard worker for the most part, though she likes to slack off a lot, but you appreciate the help while you have it. The two of you gossip and joke quietly until it's time for her to leave and time for you to sit back and wait for the dinner crowd to flood in.

***

It feels like a week has passed by the time the last person clears out after dinner, and you breathe a sigh of relief—you’re so close to getting back to your apartment and into your welcoming bed. You immediately get to work on sweeping up the trash that collected underneath the tables, eager to get out of here. 

There are only two other people working with you this shift, which is weird because FEDRA usually has at least four people on each job, but you brush it off. They seemed to know each other and they blab amongst themselves as they work. At least the couple seemed like they were in the same mindset when it came to getting this job done, so you didn’t mind the fact that you are missing a crew member. 

Halfway through your sweeping, you hear the door slam open, startling you and the couple that is now busy with taking leftover dishes into the kitchen. The chill that sweeps through the large room makes you assume it was just a gust of wind, probably blowing snow into the doorway. 

Great, something else to clean, you think as you huff an annoyed breath. 

When you turn to face the sound though, you find yourself wishing that the problem had been snow, but of course, when did anything ever go your way? The supposed gust of wind is actually Joel fucking Miller.

Your mood immediately sours and you have to fight not to roll your eyes as you watch him slink into the room and follow the couple into the kitchen. You hear the girl inform him that he was late—as if he didn’t know, or care for that matter. He only grunts in response. You don’t bother to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. If Joel sees it, he doesn't say anything. 

***

An hour later, Joel hasn’t bothered you, much to your relief. The only time you have to look up from your work is when the couple from earlier bids you farewell before they walk out the door. There is nothing left to do but scrub the tables, which you are doing now. 

You only have two to go, and then you’re free for the rest of the night. Now that you're the only one left, the room is almost eerily silent, the only sound being the drip of water as you dip your sponge into the bucket and wring it out. After the table you are working on is thoroughly cleaned, you move on to the last one. It sits right next to the busted window, and you shiver as you walk past it. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” The baritone voice sounding from behind you just about causes you to jump out of your skin, the bucket of water in your grasp suddenly spilling over your front. Of course, it was a huge fucking bucket, so it was enough water to coat almost your entire body. 

The white t-shirt you have on under your thick flannel is soaked through so that it’s practically transparent. Dropping the now empty tub to the floor with a loud clang, you swivel on your heel to face Joel, who is leaning against the wall to his right, arms crossed.

 If he sees the fire in your eyes, he ignores it as he smirks at you, obviously humored by your reaction—and likely by the fact that he can see your bra. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, every expletive or reprimand that comes to mind doesn’t seem to cover what you want to say. 

As you stand there soaked in dirty, soapy water, you find that you can do nothing but stare. Your gaze is stuck on the man still standing in front of you, not a twinge of empathy in his own, which he has trained on you in return. You have no idea how long the two of you stay rooted to the same spots, staring each other down, but it must have been at least a few minutes because you can feel your body start to involuntarily shiver as your drenched form begins to freeze. 

Of fucking course you had to have been standing right next to the broken, half-assed boarded-up window, and not by the fire that still rages into the chimney on the other side of the room. 

The cool air sweeping in seems to trap you in its frigid grasp, threatening to turn the grayish liquid that covers you into ice. You can't help it as you finally move, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest in a feeble attempt to warm your rapidly cooling body and cover your exposed undergarment. You flinch as your arm presses the freezing fabric closer to your skin.

The action seems to break the invisible spell that had set over the two of you because Joel takes that as his queue to take a step back off the wall and lift his chin. The movement makes him look bigger and you have to lift your own to look into his eyes again. You can only hope he sees the fury that burns on your own. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor right now. 

“You’re fucking joking,” you are the first to break the silence. The quiver in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that it was placed there out of anger. The asshole who put it there must know it too because you can see the way he swallows as if trying to rid himself of his guilt, though if that’s what he is feeling, he doesn’t show it any other way. 

You can expect that the action will be the only sign of such a thing—if Joel Miller doesn't want to feel a certain way, he doesn’t, simple as that. You have never once met a man more rude, nor stubborn as the one currently in front of you.  

“Didn’t realize I was bein’ funny,” he says, straight-faced with that stupid southern drawl that you have come to despise. You don’t reply as you continue to stare daggers at him, and you can't tell what’s making you shake more at this point—the layer of fucking ice about to coat your body, or the unmatched rage that brews in your mind.

 Right now, you would place your bets on the rage, considering it’s actually starting to warm you up. The sight of Joel, arms crossed to mimic your own, still staring down at you like he's some fucking god, only fuels the feeling. Sighing quietly, your eyes shut as you try to calm yourself down before you say something you would really regret. It only takes a few seconds until you speak again, which might not have been long enough, truthfully speaking. 

“That was pretty fucking shitty, even for you, Miller.” You manage to get the sentence out through gritted teeth, but it sounds strained. Anyone would agree that it sounds like you are trying your best to contain yourself, though it’s obviously a task you are struggling with. He says nothing, and his body gives nothing away, so you speak again. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he snuck up on you like that, and he probably didn’t even give it a second thought.

“I mean really, how fucking immature can you be? You really thought scaring me while I was holding a tub of dirty water was the best way to get my attention?” Your mouth starts to let words out before you can even think about what threatens to escape, and there is nothing you can really do but allow it to happen. 

Your lips are moving far too quickly for your brain to comprehend at this point, your anger completely taking over. As hard as it can be to hold yourself back from an argument sometimes, you always managed—but this was the last fucking straw. 

“And why the fuck are you even here? You obviously don’t have anything left to do.” Your voice is quickly raising but you doubt you could do anything about that even if you wanted to right now. Of course, it doesn’t matter how loud you get, you could probably scream right in his face, it never seems to affect him.

“Seemed lonely,” he says simply, shrugging and shifting off of the wall. He looks at your bewildered expression and decides it would somehow make it better if he elaborated, though you both know that he only does it to dig further under your skin. 

“Never got anyone around, s’ all. Too fuckin’ stubborn n’ self-absorbed to make any friends.” His tone is condescending and nonchalant at the same time, like he is both stating a fact and trying to beat you down. You continue to stare at him as he finishes. This is a whole new level, one you wouldn’t even have assumed Joel would ever jump to. 

You’ll admit it, he’s managed to find one of your most delicate insecurities, and he knows it, too.  Even before the outbreak, you always had trouble making friends, your anxiety and general mistrust always got in the way. Every time you thought you were getting close to someone, you would push them away. It was your biggest fear, being betrayed by someone close to you—a worse fear, you decided, than being alone. 

To this day, you have only ever let one person really get to know you. When you met Rachel during your first week in the QZ, she showed you a sort of open kindness that let you know she was a good one. You knew then, and you know now, that she would never do anything to hurt you in any way. 

In the time that you've gotten to know her, she’s become the best friend you’ve ever had, and the only one you wanted. But she is only one person after all, and she can’t spend all of her time with you, so you find yourself on your own most of the time—and of course, Joel Miller, of all people, would pick up on it. 

“You are such an asshole, Joel,” you spew out after a moment. “And you have the audacity to call me lonely?” You can't help the tears that start to blur your vision, so you ignore them as you continue to rant, your hands now flying wildly. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is starting to grow to the point where you feel like it will swallow you whole. 

“You act like you’re so much fucking better than me! Who do you have?” Through your watering eyes, you can see the way Joel flinches slightly, and as much as it pleases you that you seem to have finally found a soft spot, it also eggs you on. You recognize it and think to yourself that he's a fucking idiot for pointing out the fact that you don’t have anyone in your corner when he has the same exact problem. 

“Huh? You say I'm alone, and maybe I am, but I’ve never seen you with anybody.” Your vision starts to clear as you feel hot tears begin to streak down your already-soaked cheeks, allowing you to see the deep scowl set on Joel's face. It almost scares you how mad he looks, but it's too late to back down now. 

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but it never comes. His silence only encourages you, and you know you probably seem immature as you continue to insult him, but it gets pushed to the back of your mind as you quickly realize it’s the least of your worries right now. Your tears are streaming freely at this point, your breaking point finally has been reached. The words are coming out faster than you care to stop them. 

“You have no fucking friends, Joel,” you spit out. That one definitely struck a nerve, and you watch as he takes a step towards you, his face giving you a warning expression as if he already knows what you are going to say next. You know his history, and you know it's a bad idea, you know it is, but you say it anyway.

“You have no friends…” You pause, your brain subconsciously trying to talk you out of what you’re about to do. Of course, you don't listen. “...and you have no fucking famil-” you get cut off as Joels hand makes contact with your throat, his grip crushing your windpipe as he pushes you back until you hit the wall and lifts you onto your toes so you are looking into his rage-filled eyes.

He says nothing for a moment as he lets you struggle in his firm grasp, watching you writhe and try to gulp in air. The panic that courses through your body is almost paralyzing, sending a hot flash throughout your entire body as your brain catches up with what's happening. 

You find yourself panicking even more when you realize that fear isn’t the only thing your senses seem to be overwhelmed with as his hand tightens around your neck. The wetness beginning to gather in your panties is suddenly the biggest problem you are faced with, an unwelcome feeling or arousal suddenly making itself known. 

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion as you feel your hands start to claw at the one wrapped around your neck, no doubt leaving raised scratch marks across his wrist. The man doesn't wince or falter though, as you struggle to try to pry his hand away. You can feel your mouth opening and closing, though you’re unsure of what you are trying to say. You suspect it's something along the lines of “Please”, but no sound comes out. 

Eventually, after you realize that nothing is going to come from your struggle, you let your body fall limp, the only movement left is the tears that still crawl tauntingly down your cheeks. Though some of them may still be from the anger that had overcome you before you felt his large palm on your throat, most of them are now evidence of your shame. 

Logically, you reason that there is no way for him to know what kind of response his aggressive actions pulled from you, but you can't help but feel like somehow, he can see right through you. 

Upon seeing you submit, Joel lifts you more until you are close enough to feel his hot breath fan across your face. He loosens his grip enough so that you are allowed to catch a breath, but not enough for you to fall away from him. He starts to lower his arm, letting your feet hit the ground, but he leans his body down with your own so that his face stays less than an inch away from your own the entire time. 

You know that realistically, he only had you in the air for a few seconds, but it felt like an hour with the fear—and unexpected lust—that was coursing through your veins. Though you are still trembling with the silent threat he delivered, you seem to be able to calm down a little as his hand loosens and slides around to the back of your neck, only holding you in place. 

You stare into his eyes because you have nowhere else to look, and are almost surprised to see the array of emotions on display. You see anger, impatience, annoyance, a hint of restraint, but the one that seems to dominate them all is the one that takes you aback the most. You see in his eyes, what must be a reflection of your own. 

Your mouth drops open again as you begin to place the look of longing and desire that burns in Joel's gaze as he stares you down, his mouth just centimeters from your own. You take a chance and allow yourself to look down at the way his lips almost brush yours, his own mouth parted as you both try to calm your ragged breathing. 

You have no idea why you suddenly feel this way—well, you do, you just refuse to admit it. You hate his fucking guts because he is the only man that has made you feel something since before the outbreak. Every time you look at him, it is evidence that you are still capable of letting your guard down, that you are still weak. 

You promised yourself the first time you understood what the potential problem with Joel Miller could be, that you wouldn’t allow it to become one. But this god-damned man makes it so fucking hard to keep that in check when he is staring at you like he wants to ruin you. 

You feel his hand tighten around you again, and you snap your eyes back up to his, suddenly blushing as you realize that you have been staring at his lips for far too long. For once, you are at a loss for words, you have no idea what to say that might save your ass from looking like you had been doing exactly what you had. Thankfully, you don't have to wonder for long because Joel cuts right back to the chase, seemingly shaking himself out of his own thoughts as he speaks again. 

“You want to try that again, little girl?” Fuck. How the fuck are you supposed to ignore the pit forming in your stomach when he says shit like that? You are too caught up in thinking of a response to answer him immediately, and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that as he shifts his position, pushing you back further into the wall behind you. 

When he moves, you realize that one of his legs is slotted between your own, and your eyes widen as you feel how close his thigh is to your center—one little movement and you will give yourself away. You must be dripping at this point, and if he's not close enough to feel the heat coming off your cunt from where he stands right now, he will be if he moves any closer. 

Steeling yourself, you opt not to speak as you bring your hands back up to grasp at his wrist again. Joel watches as you struggle to get a grip before he growls and uses his free hand to grab both of yours and place them on the wall above your head. Your eyes somehow widen even more and you want to shrivel up into a ball as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

You need to move now. You can't let this man see what he does to you, the way your body reacts to the way he so easily dominates you. You know that you have no time to plan anything out, so you do the first thing that comes to mind—you try to tug your hands out of his grip and you lunge to the side. 

You’re not sure why you even attempt it, you know that it won't get you anywhere, but you do it anyway. Of course, he overpowers you once again, and nothing changes but his grip, both of his hands tightening as he leans in even closer to you. The new position causes his thigh to crush into your throbbing clit, and before you can stop it, a whimper breaks through your lips.

Nothing is said for a moment as you stare at Joel with shame, and him at you with a newfound amusement. You can feel yourself melting on the spot, and you let your head hang in humiliation, your eyes trained on the ground next to Joel, who is now smirking as he stares back at you. You feel his thigh crush into you again, deliberately this time, and you have to bite your lip and close your eyes in concentration so as to not give away any more sounds. 

You hear Joel chuckle darkly above you, and the sound goes straight to your pussy. How are you supposed to resist this man when he sounds like that, when the rough denim of his jeans is rubbing you in all the right places as he begins to rock his thigh back and forth, making you bite your lip even harder. The hand on your neck suddenly releases its grip and you feel his thumb come to your mouth, tugging your bottom lip until it falls away from the punishing bite of your teeth. 

“C’mon now, princess,” you hear Joel speak again and you can't help but moan softly as he sets his hand on your hip, starting to guide you across his firm thigh. 

“You’ve given yourself away now, you ain’t gonna get outta this one.” His tone is taunting as he presses down on your hip, bringing you down harder against him. 

The pressure on your clit is almost overwhelming with pleasure, and you find yourself moving on your own, beginning to chase the orgasm that has suddenly come within your grasp. You can’t help it with the way your wet jeans rub you just right and the firmness of his thigh is just enough to push the seam of them onto all the right places.

“F-fuck you, Miller,” you say, opening your eyes and bringing your head back up to look into his eyes, hoping the anger is apparent in yours. He stares at you for a moment before he speaks again. 

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he moves his hand down to where your cunt meets his thigh, and places his thumb right on your clit, rubbing quick circles. The touch is all you need to send you over the edge, becoming a moaning mess under Joel’s body. He’s right of course, you want him to fucking ruin you. God, you hate it when he’s right. 

He continues the circles on your clit as you come down from your high, riding you through it. When you are finally able to catch your breath, you look him in the eye to find him staring right back at you. His gaze is intense and full of want. 

“You want me to quit, darlin?” You can tell by the way he says it, that he asks genuinely. He would stop if you said the word. As much as you want to hate him, you know that he is respectful enough that he wouldn’t do anything to that effect without your consent.

Joel may be an asshole, but he would never put his hands on a woman in that sense if she showed any sign of resistance. Though he didn’t seem to have a problem with wrapping his palm around your throat. 

“I can give you more, all you have to do is ask,” Joel says after you don't answer him. His gaze is hungry as he waits for your consent, his eyes slowly tracing up and down your body, taking you in. When he looks back to your face, you nod slowly, watching as his already blown-out pupils seem to take over his irises. 

“I'm gonna need to hear you say it, darlin,” he says as he brings his chin up to the side of your head, nibbling your earlobe and making you shiver. 

“P-please, Joel,” you say, giving up the act. You know you want him, he knows you want him, and now you know he wants you, too. 

“I need you, please.” At your signal, he doesn't wait any longer as he starts to pull you away from the wall, his free hand traveling back to the back of your neck, the other still grasping your wrists. Before you can figure out where he’s moving you to, your chest slams onto one of the tables, the force almost enough to knock the wind out of you. You had expected him to be rough, but not this rough… not that you mind. He’s clearly done with being gentle with you now that he has free reign.

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, throwing him a look over your shoulder as much as you can with your neck still being pinned down. 

“You fucking mind?” You hear Joel chuckle behind you and feel him step closer to you, pressing himself against your ass and leaning over so that his chest is flush with your back. 

“Nope, not at all.” His breath tickles your ear as he whispers into it. 

“Now I'd be quiet if I were you, girl,” he tells you, his tone almost threatening. “Unless you want to wake the whole town, of course, cause now that I’ve started, I ain't gonna stop.” Your eyes widen and a whimper falls from your lips as he finishes his threat and pushes his top half off of you. 

“Maybe you’d like that, huh, little girl?” he pauses his sentence to rip your pants and panties down in one fluid motion, making you cry out.

“Let the whole town watch me fuck you, show everyone who you belong to, who this cunt belongs to.” He knows you too fucking well, knows that you’re thinking about it now, salivating over the thought of someone walking in on you like this, your pants around your ankles, him, balls deep inside of you, taking what he wants. 

“Dirty little girl, out here whorin’ herself out to me so quick. Slut’s just damn desperate for some good fuckin’ cock.”

You hear a sharp zip from somewhere behind you and you struggle out of instinct, pushing up on the hand holding you down. He ignores your protest and slams himself into you, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, giving you no warm-up or time to adjust. 

You expected him to be big, but you weren't expecting this. He's fucking huge, stretching you out and reaching depths you didn't even know existed. You scream out at the sudden burning intrusion and Joel moves the hand that isn't on your neck to your mouth, silencing you halfway through the outburst. 

The tears that fall from your eyes catch on the palm of his hand as he brings his cock almost all the way out before slamming himself back in, setting a brutal pace. 

“Tha’s alright baby, Ima take good care of you,” Joel assures you through gritted teeth. “Make you feel real good creamin’ all over my fat cock.”

Your fingernails scrape the surface of the table once he releases your hands, scrambling for purchase as Joel slams into you without remorse. You’re almost surprised at how quickly you feel the knot in your stomach start to build back up, the pain promptly turning to pleasure as Joel brutally shoves his cock into your already-sore pussy. 

The sounds of Joel's grunts, your muffled sobs, and the squelching of your cunt quickly fill the room, you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so cock-drunk on Joel. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is the way the head of his dick slams into your G-spot with every harsh thrust. 

The way his dick drags against your walls makes you clench with every swift pass. That combined with the way his hips slap against your ass might just be the best thing you’ve ever felt. 

Your body begins to go slack, your stomach and chest pressing harder into the table, you barely even register Joel's hand being removed from your mouth until you hear your unfiltered moans break through. 

“Jus’ wait one second, darlin,” Joel's voice is strained as he talks. You try to nod back at him but find that it's a bit hard when your bones have melted. His pace never falters as he reaches down to where he pulled his pants down just enough to free his thick cock and heavy balls. 

When his hand finds the open buckle of his belt, he tugs it through the loops and uses the edge of the table to fold it once before bringing it to your lips, pushing it toward you until you bite down on it. 

He tells you something, by his tone it sounded like a command, but you can’t seem to make out the request.  If you weren’t drooling before, you certainly are now with the taste of leather on your tongue. Joel smirks to himself as your moans quiet down with the help of the belt. 

“There ya go, such a good girl holdin’ on t’ that for me,” he runs his fingers through your hair as you keen at his praise. He can feel your cunt tighten around him as your second orgasm approaches once again and he has to steel himself so as not to come right then and there like some teenager. Instead, he brings his hand down to touch your clit again, not with his thumb, but with his middle three fingers, rubbing up and down, immediately setting a furious pace. 

The new sensation combined with the pistoning of his hips pushes you over the edge and you have to bite down on the belt so you don't scream as you receive the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. It's like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the white-hot pleasure almost blinding you, and the force of it almost pushing him out of your cunt. 

You sob as you listen to Joel talk you through it, telling you how good you're doing for him, how you were made for him to stuff his cock into. His pace never falters as you gush around him, but he does push himself further into you so as to not be forced out of you. 

The strength of his thrust is enough to surge you forward, the table screeching on the concrete floor below you as it too is moved forward slightly. After you come down completely from your high, he grasps your hands and tugs them behind your back for leverage, fucking down into you to chase his own pleasure. 

“Goddamn, darlin, tight, young, little cunt, squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me.” His dirty words are almost humiliating as he throws them out, but you love every moment of it, the way you clench around his cock giving you away quickly. 

“Oh, you like that, little slut?” he almost sounds surprised as he continues rambling. 

“Filthy little thing, lettin’ some old man stuff his cock into your sweet little pussy. ‘F you didn’t take dick so good I would think you’d be a damn virgin.” You whine beneath him as much as you can with the leather between your teeth, a shameless request for him to keep talking. 

“Yeah, you like that, huh, little girl?” He grants your wish, spewing more filthy comments every few thrusts. “Like bein’ told what a f-fuckin’ whore you are f’ me?” You keep, drooling on the belt trapped between your teeth.

Suddenly, you feel the large hand that was pinning your neck disappear, only to reappear on your ass, making your eyes widen as Joel quickly slides to your other hole, his thumb right above the tight ring of muscle. 

Usually, you would want to struggle, but for some reason, the thought of Joel taking you there is something you find yourself wanting. He feels you squeeze around him again and he chuckles at your desperation. 

“Now, you’re just full of surprises, ain't ya, princess?” He says, his voice even more strangled than it was before. It almost sounds like it should be painful for him to talk. He stops talking for a moment to allow his saliva to drip down and slide down your ass crack. 

“You’d let me fuck you here, wouldn't you, little girl?” Fuck this man, you both know the answer to that. 

“Put my dick in this pretty little ass?” When you don't object, you feel him spit on top of his thumb again before pushing it into you. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl as he slides his thumb into you until he can’t anymore. The intrusion triggers your third orgasm, your body melting into the table as you press back into him. It’s less intense than the first two, but you are still fully consumed by the waves of pleasure that wash over you.

If you had been standing, you would have fallen to your knees. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the feeling almost overwhelming as he leans on top of you again, continuing to whisper filth into your ear. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he lets go of your wrists and tangles his fingers into your hair, slamming himself somehow even deeper inside of you.  

“Tell me who these fuckin’ holes belong to, princess,” he spews out through gritted teeth, pulling the belt away from your mouth and throwing it somewhere off to the side. 

“Who makes you feel good, makes these little holes feel good?” When you don't answer immediately, your unleashed moans and whimpers making it almost impossible, he uses the hand that’s not fingering your ass to deliver a sharp slap to your left cheek. 

“Fuck, fuck Joel it’s you,” you practically sob as you tell him what he wants to hear, what you want him to hear. 

“T-these holes are yours Joel, you make them feel so good, they belong to you, all yours,” you cry out frantically. Satisfied with your response, he rubs over the red spot on your skin before returning his hand to your neck. 

“That's right,” he praises you softly and you soak up every word. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, knowin’ who she belongs to.” He thrusts into you half a dozen more times before his pace finally starts to falter. 

“W-where do you want me, sweet thing?” As he asks you, all you can think is “fuck this man for being respectful with shit like that.”  If he hadn’t asked, you probably would have shoved him away, but instead, you make another stupid decision—why the fuck not at this point? 

“I-inside, Joel, inside me, oh my god, fucking c-come inside me,” you’re only slightly aware of how desperate you sound as you beg for his cum, but again, you can’t seem to find it in you to care. You let your cheek rest on the cool surface of the table and close your eyes, too exhausted to hold yourself up any longer. 

You hear Joel groan and start to say something above you, but he cuts himself off as he releases inside you with a strangled moan, almost like he is biting down on his lip so as not to shout. 

A stream of curses laced with your name spills from his lips as he twitches and pulses inside you. The feeling of his hot cum spilling into you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It seems like forever before he stills, practically collapsing on top of you, his cum dripping around his softening cock and down your thighs. 

Despite his weight on top of you, you think you could probably manage to fall asleep there. Your body has never felt so spent and tired, every muscle sore in one way or another. Joel waits only a minute before lifting himself off of you, and you attempt to lift your head to follow his movement, only for your cheek to be gently pressed back onto the table by his palm. 

“Jus' hold on a second, princess.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it makes your heart warm, but you can't resist the perfect opportunity to tease him as it presents itself. 

“You’re happier after you get your dick wet,” you say with a small smile as you follow his request, letting your eyes close as you bask in the feeling of euphoria that’s taken over your body. 

At your snippy comment, you expect him to scold you, or maybe to swat your behind, which is still presented for him. What you don’t expect is to feel his tongue on your spent cunt. Your body jolts and your eyes snap open at the unexpected feeling, your reflexes causing you to try to sit up again, only to be pushed down by Joel’s hand on your lower back. 

“I said to wait a second, darlin’,” he says as he pulls away from you, his tone more stern now. He waits until you nod your head to return to your pussy, dipping into your hole and lapping up your mixed release. You shudder as his tongue grazes your overstimulated clit, but do your best to hold still for him. 

After he seems to have gotten his fill, you feel him pull away again and stand up to lean over you. His hand suddenly grabs your chin, making you twist your neck slightly so that you are looking up at him. He keeps his mouth shut as he brings it to his own before squeezing your cheeks, making you open your lips, and drops his jaw open. 

You gasp as you feel the combination of his spit and your cum mixed with his own slowly spill onto your tongue. He keeps his eyes open and locked onto yours as he keeps your lips together and lets the liquid drip into your mouth. When he pulls away, he replaces his lips with his hand, forcing your mouth shut. 

“Swallow,” he commands. You obey without a second thought and let the substance slip down your throat. He smiles when he's sure you’re done and moves his hand, motioning for you to open up. You do, and he smirks as he sees every drop gone. 

“Good girl,” he mutters as he lays back down on top of you, and you let your body rest on the table again, enjoying the feel of his body on top of yours. As the two of you stay there, catching your breath, you feel Joel's chest start to vibrate against your back in silent laughter. You furrow your brows and attempt to stand and roll him off you, but only succeed in the latter, your legs failing as if they were made of jello. 

Joel stands back and tucks himself back into his jeans as you slump back down on the table, temporarily accepting defeat. You see him take a seat in the chair next to you out of the corner of your eye, his chest still rattling the slightest bit. 

“What the fuck do you find so funny, bastard?” You slur your words, your tone is a lot less fierce than you had wanted it to be. He looks at you before answering, and you feel your both heart and your cunt clench at the almost adoring look in his eyes as he meets your gaze. Maybe the asshole will try to be decent for a moment, his expression promising. 

“Looks like your gonna have t’ scrub this table again, princess,” he says, his tone toeing the line of playful. You feel your lips tug up into a smile as you recognize the fact that this is probably Joel being friendly. Or at the very least, he’s not at your throat at the moment—in a bad way anyway—so you’ll take it. Upon seeing your smile, he sits back further and allows himself a small smile of his own as he continues to watch you sink into the polished wood beneath you.

“Fuck you, Miller,” you say. You erupt into a quiet yet delirious fit of exhausted giggles, Joel following soon after with his own gentle chuckle. 

“Might have t’ give me a second for that, princess.”

*****

Pt. 2 here

[ejunkiet]

Favourite Davey/Angel fics >:3

so aside from my own series 'jaws that bite, claws that catch', that i'm absolutely gonna plug here, here is a short list of my fave davey/angel fics hehehe

but really, I'm looking for more, please rec me your favourite fics!!

--

An Angel In Wolf's Clothing by ByTheAshTree

David has something he needs to tell Angel. Something that has to be said, before their relationship can go any further.

can't tell you how many times I have reread this one, okay.

Phases of You by inthedarkestlight

David’s hand found theirs, and he plucked it from where they’d had it against his chest, twined their fingers together, and presented them both to his father. A length of leather cord was slowly wrapped and knotted around their joined hands as Gabe spoke: “Now you are bound one to the other, with a tie not easy to break. Take this time of binding, as the final vow is made to learn what you need to know – to grow in wisdom and love. That your union will be strong, and that your love will last, in this life and beyond.”

I love this story. it's a long fic, and complete, and I love the unique take on angel as a shifter, and the dynamics of rivals to lovers. <3

Growling by @dominimoonbeam

They've only been dating for a month and Davey is still trying to convince himself this isn't a big deal and he doesn't care, when Angel calls in the middle of the night sounding off.

protective davey is everything. bless you domini, this is still one of my favourites. (don't cry also, for angel and asher's friendship ;u;)

it just slipped my mind by @nat-seal-well

Of course, given their luck, they really shouldn’t be as surprised as they are when the first drop of water lands right on their nose. It still makes them look up, blinking in confusion towards the gray blanketing all of Dahlia.

another fic I have downloaded and reread often. just. perfect characterisation, and soft early angel/davey dynamics.

bonus smutty fics below the cut~

Down, Boy by @k9rage

“Down boy,” they laugh breathlessly when he bites at their neck a bit harder than intended, and he growls low in warning, only for their fingers to loop around the collar around his neck in reminder. They’re in control tonight.

Gorgeous. GORGEOUS. >:3

(Gonna Make You) Howl by @romirola

On the morning of David's birthday, Angel gives him a gift unlike anything he's ever received. David might be the alpha of the Shaw Pack, but just for the day, Angel becomes alpha of the bedroom.

WONDERFUL. Romi is a goddess with characterisation, and she knocks this out of the park. ;u;

Wanna Bet? by @taelonsamada

David is craving his mate, who’s a bit too preoccupied with Minecraft at the moment for his tastes. So he makes a bet with them. Realizing very quickly that he may have bitten off more than he can take.

>:3 okay so I was gonna rec 'Between You, Me and the Fence Post', which is a masterpiece, but I may be biased as she gifted this to me <33

[quinloki]

quin-uhhh:

would you?!

Fic authors self rec! When you receive this, reply with favorite five fics you've written (include links, and if you want- a few thoughts about each one), then pass on to at least five other writers if you're up for it. Spread the self-love ✨

If you don't, I'll just... I'll just... well I won't do a thing but please?!

many fist pumps,

▲ I'm a symbol now

\o/ Tri, my sweet friend, you are - if anything - a symbol of good cheer =D ♥

Let's see, five favorite fics I've written. That's much easier than trying to pick just one ^_^

Birds of a Feather Marco/Reader ( tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - This is my most recently completed fic, at least at the time of this post, but I love it so much. My passion for Marco feels like it came out of nowhere and has made itself reigning champion in my thoughts. But a story I expected to be relatively short, ended up almost twice as long as I expected, and it was so easy. It was fun to write, and I think it goes down smooth, despite being nearly 90k words people consistently devour it in a single sitting.

Quicksand Sir Crocodile/Reader ( tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - Not sure if you're a fan of the sandy crocodile-themed warlord? Tread carefully, reading this title is statistically likely to convert you. Quicksand has an alternative ending because the story was originally intended to be a very dark Yandere - to the point that Doflamingo would've been the "good" guy. That's not how things went, and I'm quite glad for it. Quicksand going its own direction is what helped seal the deal in creating the Tales of the Grandline Metropolis, which is currently 3.8 completed stories. (it'll be at least 8 before it's done).

A Light Touch Eustass Kid/Reader ( Ao3 / Wattpad ) - My first Eustass Kid/Reader story. Set in the same AU as Quicksand, it was started from a pun, of all things. I figured Kid would be fancy tech stuff like neural-linked prosthetics, and the idea that would make a prosthetic for the reader after they lost a hand was something I wanted to write. Creating something like that would take a light touch, and if it glowed, that would be a different kind of light touch and getting close to Kid requires a light-- you get the point. Like I said, it's all based off a pun, but I'm really proud of the story, it's one of my favorite re-reads.

Some Direction Zoro/Reader (tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - A Modern AU where the government mandates who you marry. I have to give thanks to @lyndsyh24 for not only inspiring me to write this one (start to finish in a single month, I was obsessed!) but also for allowing my to play in the AU she'd built up. From Matchbook to the laws themselves, it's all thanks to Lyn. Zoro started out as one of my favorite characters in the series - I still have love for him, and I'm always happy to write him, but he's taken a bit of a back seat to my top three. Still Some Direction is a story I'm really proud of - even if I worry there'll be a mob after me for who the antagonist is 😅

Family Ties Doflamingo/Reader ( Ao3 / Wattpad ) - I was torn on this last choice - even with five slots it's hard to decide between stories I suppose ^^; Also, oops, apparently I only put the first ten chapters on tumblr... I need to fix that >.> Ahem, anyway, Family Ties is the first fic I wrote after over ten years of not writing at all. It's my first reader insert, my first true multi-chapter too. When I wrote it, it was the longest fic I'd written by nearly 50k words. I wrote it because I wanted a more morally ambiguous reader compared to what I'd been reading. It's not a dark fic though, it's pretty tooth-achingly sweet, honestly, but it's currently the only fic I have where the reader is a murderer in a very undisputed and direct manner.

Honorable mention I almost posted as piece 5 - The Dragon's Clause - my Sabo/Reader Noble/Fantasy/Magic AU, and also the only title I mention that's incomplete. But it's a an ode to my favorite genre, and a great many of my favorite tropes.

[amateurwritescm]

Weems, a Goddess

Hello everyone, I am tentatively posting this as my first fic. It was intended to be a complete fic but it became so long. So I thought I would post it and see what people think. So, here is the first part of made it as a first part of a few that will end up NSFW.

Warnings: Right now, I don't think there are any but I am super happy for you to tell me otherwise and ill edit. I'm new to this :). The only thing I will add is that I don't really proof read, so I am so sorry in advance.

I would love some feedback if you do read it.

Summary: Your Normie self arrives in Nevermore as the Academies new therapist. Instantly you are impacted by Larissa who is like a goddess. Fluff and flirting ensue. You are a mess and completely undone by her.

P.s. Help please I don't know what I am doing. SOS

🐴 CM

Weems, A Goddess. Part 1.

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

You could faintly hear the train on tracks clacking away when suddenly, your eyes snapped open. Your heart picked up its pace, beating fast as if your life was threatened. You had forgotten where you were momentarily and cursing yourself for the way your body did this sometimes. It was so unpleasant.

Internally you laughed at yourself, knowing you wouldn’t usually have fallen asleep on a freaking train, but it had been a huge trip from Australia already. Finally, you were on your last leg to Jericho, Nevermore Academy. Filled with nervous energy, you looked out at the passing autumn trees. They were beautiful, calming you as they passed by almost rhythmically in time with the train. Memories arose of your brother telling you that you were crazy to accept a job on the other side of the world, in which you kind of agreed with. You knew very little about this school’s history. From what you could tell, it was a boarding school for outcasts. It intrigued you, being a therapist and all.

The train had been pretty empty for a while now, you guessed Jericho was further out than you thought. Weirdly enough the absence of passengers didn’t alarm you, kind of filling you with curiosity instead.

An uncomfortable screech of what you assumed was the result of poor-quality sound and speakers blared overhead. It did not fail to grab your attention as it announced your stop. Jericho didn’t have a train station, however there was one only half an hour away. You’d hoped that you could find an uber or a taxi, maybe even a bus to make your way there. Picking up your bags from the luggage section between the carriages, you waited as the train slowed to a stop.

Stepping onto the platform and chuckling to yourself, you marvelled the quiet. It was empty, oh except for some random woman at the other end of the platform. Weirdly, she didn’t get on the train. You supposed you could ask the woman if she knew how to get from here to Nevermore, realising it was probably not as simple as you first thought!

You were looking down, pulling your luggage in the direction of the woman when you heard a “Hello there!” in the most beautiful British tone. Looking up, you realised that the woman at the end of the track was much closer and you began to take her features. She was much taller than you first noticed, with beautiful curves and bright white hair curled pinned in an updo. The woman strode so gracefully towards you in her sage green tightly fitted skirt suit. Wow she was beautiful.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I am Ms Weems” she introduced, holding her hand out towards you in a soft gentle way. Are you Y/n? You half nodded, half shook your head realising you were staring right at her and hadn’t replied yet. In confusion, you took her hand. “Hello?” you said more like a question, hoping your accent wasn’t too harsh in comparison to the lull of her voice. She spoke again, “I’m so sorry to surprise you. I am here to pick you up, you see I forgot to mention that it’s almost impossible to get from the station to the school without encountering lots of chaos” smiling cheekily, her white teeth white filling her mouth beautifully. Suddenly it all clicked, she was the principal of the school and was here to pick you up. Taking a second glance at her beautiful face, you were taken back by how beautiful she was. You assumed the principal would be like a much older grumpy head mistress. You had only exchanged words over email recently, as your interview had been with someone standing in for her whilst the principal was on leave.

“I hope that’s okay?” she said, after your silence. You noticed her plump red lips turn from a huge smile into a concerned pout. “Oh of course, thank you very much” you finally came out with. Your eyes met her crystal blue’s which seemed to sparkle, was that even possible? You looked away as you felt the heat rise into your cheeks, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Interrupting your inner thoughts once again, she leaned in close to grab one of the cases you were holding and sung “this way!” whilst nodding towards the exit. It’s safe to say you died for a moment, momentarily made worse as you inhaled deeply, smelling her perfume as some kind of sweet flowery mix. Still standing there, you watched her walk away with her hips swaying and heels clicking against the concrete. She turned once again, “Hey, Y/N enough staring for right now, are you coming?”. You realised in that moment you were in some serious trouble.

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

“And this will be your quarters y/n” I suspect you’ll find it most suitable. Most of the staff live in quarters by the hall they oversee so we are kind of spread out, but since you aren’t a part of the teaching staff” She paused and stepped closer to you, her hips slightly more forward as if they were beckoning you themselves “I also thought it would be nice for you to be closer to me, In case you need me…”. Her voice shifted from playful to sultry and low and she looked deep into your eyes, with an unspoken question. No, it was expectation. With her face flashing darker, her head slightly tilted down to you, she bit her lip.

Oh my god.

The word… or name even had brought you back to your earlier interactions with the principal. You were just as flustered now, feeling as though you were short circuiting. On the drive, Principal Weems had initially talked about some of the students at Nevermore, however you had trouble listening as you stared at her lips moving so gracefully, occasionally catching her gaze. Usually, you weren’t so frazzled by the presence of beautiful women. It was technically your job to be confident and talk to people and seek meaning, but this woman was something else.

You were sitting in the small car, with your luggage stuck in the back and boot. Looking over, you marvelled at her stature closely resembling some kind of goddess. Although she was slim, she barely fit into her seat with her long arm resting close to yours as she drove.  “The place you’ll consult with student’s Y/n is on the other side of my office. Its just a small room but you are welcome to change it around, decorate and make it your own if you like”.

You nodded, catching the last sentence as you were stirred from your thoughts by her mentioning your name. “Yes… sorry for not being so present. It’s been such a long couple of days I think my brain is just jetlagged”.

Or it is because you’re sitting next to a literal god in human form that you would let sacrifice you if it was her wish?

“Of course, you must be absolutely exhausted having come so far. Ill show you to your quarters and you can rest that pretty little head of yours” she said sweetly, glancing down at your body and then up to your face before looking back towards the road. “I was wondering though if tomorrow you might join me for lunch, seeing as it is a Sunday”.

Eeeeeee, she asked you to lunch! You squealed internally. Calm down Y/n it’s just lunch... You opened your mouth, expecting yourself to accept in a kind and professional manner. Which would have been so appropriate and normal, except you didn’t.

“I’d really love you for lunch” Fuck. “I mean I’d love you to lunch me… like… I mean… for me to have lunch with you, like you said”. Your stomach flipped violently making you push yourself back into the passenger seat, silently wishing it would swallow you whole. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and looked down at your hands.

 “G God, I’m so sorry” you stammered. your eyes flicking upwards whilst your cheeks beginning to sting as you knew you had no room to move underneath her gaze.

“My name is Larissa, darling”, her eyes darkening even further as Larissa internally revelled in the feeling of having caught you like a little mouse. You on the other hand, felt terrified but electrified by the way Larissa looked at you in that moment.

The thing was with Larissa, she was so emotive with her face that all could be revealed with a fleeting look. You, being a highly trained therapist were great with reading emotions, and that included those with a suggestive nature. You stored the glimpse you saw on that drive, knowing you could bring it up again in your mind. But you didn’t have to, because you remembered that you were standing in the room with her right now and the same look was on her face.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?” She picked an invisible piece of lint from your blouse before running her hand down your arm slightly. Your skin responded with little tingles. Having registered your response to her touch, she continued. “I must have missed that memo, with me having been away when you were hired. Well darling, I think I am going to quite like having you here” she said, her expression moving from the darkened gaze to a content smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart” she said not bothering to pose it as a question again. “Come to my quarters at noon and we can figure out a plan from there”. She was walking away slowly, turning to lean for on the door frame for a moment. “And bring those brilliant eyes, I love it when you stare at me”.

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

The next day:

Larissa had felt quite taken with you the moment she saw you. Truly she had just expected to pick up the new therapist who would probably also leave shortly into the school term. The last one had left because of Wednesday Addams, of which you could understand to some degree but hiring someone else felt impossible knowing it may just happen again. However, when she saw you hop off that train, her heart felt like it simultaneously dropped into her stomach and beamed up into the sky outside of her being. She knew right then and there; you were hers and she wouldn’t let you go without a fight.

*Knock knock*

You knocked on Larissa’s door, and it she soon opened it to you dressed in a slightly more casual pair of dress pants and a soft pastel blouse tucked in to accentuate her waist. “Hello, my love. You look beautiful”.

Earlier you had tried on about 6 different outfits, making a huge mess in your new place, you went with your favourite pants and long sleeve combination. It was much colder than you had expected it to be though having come from summer in a hot climate. You walked in with a bit of a shiver, grateful to look over and see her open wood fire going.

“Oh, my love you look freezing!” With her beside you, she wrapped her arm around you and led you towards the fire. “Here, come sit with me and I will warm you up”. You thanked her quietly, just absorbing her touch as it lingered on you. You felt unprepared for her to leave, feeling her shift slightly you pressed into her a little. Larissa knowingly smiled and instead of moving further she simply asked “what would you like to do for lunch? And I mean what would you like to eat and not who” She laughed, recalling yesterdays use of your words. You tensed momentarily until Larissa squeezed your arm playfully. Relaxing you giggled “I’m so sorry, you’re just so beautiful and I guess you make me a little nervous”. Larissa, still smiling retorted “well that much, I can tell and its kind of fun” she pushed into you slightly causing you to look up into her eyes wondering what might happen next. Larissa looked down to your lips and then back to your eyes…

 “And as fun as this is, I am absolutely starving and we must eat!” Larissa gracefully lifted herself from your side. You audibly whined slightly at the lost of contact, until you realised she was gone. She emerged from a door hidden in a corner you hadn’t noticed earlier, holding a warm jacket out to you. “I thought as much as I am a fantastic giant water bottle, you might need this. Let’s go to lunch at the Weathervane”.

“Oh that’s so kind of you, but my place is just down the hall …” you began to make an excuse, knowing if you wore that jacket that she would never see it again.

“Nonsense, this way it is much sweeter” Larissa boasted a big smile, although she thought something much dirtier. It’s also going to be much more satisfying when I get to take it off of you.

Larissa motioned to you to turn around as she held the jacket for you to slip your arms into one by one, making contact with your arms, neck and back as she adjusted the way it sat for no reason other than to touch you. “Let’s go, Ill drive”.

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

Only 15 minutes later you were hopping out of Larissa’s personal car which was much bigger, feeling slightly tipsy as it smelt intoxicatingly like her. It had made sense when Larissa opened your door for you, that the little car she barely fit into yesterday was not hers and was a Nevermore car for school related things.  

“This is the Weathervane, it’s such a nice place to get food and drink. They have really fantastic hot chocolate and cute little booths sit in” Larissa said enthusiastically with a smile charging towards the entrance. Your legs although not typically small, struggled to keep up with her. She turned around “Come on darling as much as I don’t mind you watching me walk from behind, I love having you by my side”. Fluffy comment pricked you in the chest, leaving you warm feelings. You didn’t know it then but that was just the start of the heat.

After ordering some hot fresh paninis and hot chocolate, Larissa sat down at her favourite booth in the corner. You sat across from her and began to ask her questions about Nevermore. You both talked for what seemed like hours discussing students, the history behind outcasts and education. It was all so interesting to you, and you couldn’t wait to begin with the students who needed you most. One thing that kept popping up was that you couldn’t help but wonder whether Larissa was an outcast or a normie like you. One part of you knew that she had to be, no normal human being could be so tall, so beautiful and practically perfect in every way.

“If you are wondering, which I am sure you are… I am an outcast” Larissa said, shaking you from what clearly was silence through your last thought process. Caught in a new bout of fluster, you began to ramble the thoughts you had been having. “That… doesn’t surprise me you know like you’re so beautiful and perfect kind of like some Amazonian, or goddess that fell from the sky or something. Like look at you, of course you are. No normal person looks so delicious”. None of that was supposed to come out of your mouth in the way it did. You shrunk down slightly, blushing bright red.

“Oh really? Well, that is quite the admittance” the words almost crawling out of her mouth, just like her body crawled forward, leaning over the table with little effort and maximum grace. “I just love the way your brain and body disconnect from itself and then does whatever it wants”. Tilting her head, she looked into your eyes and down to your lips, licking her own red plump ones. Suddenly you felt her leg brush past yours underneath the table. Feeling slightly brave as your core was set alight “Oh yeah?” you breathed out, hoping you didn’t look too impacted by her words and her actions. But how could you not? “Mmhmm, yes, I do. However, it would be much nicer if I were the one to undo you; mind body and soul and then put you back together again”.

You could say nothing, Larissa grabbed your hand and walked you back to her car.

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

Tagged:

@weemssapphic

[brigoesrahhh]

Can I request the Spot and the reader cuddling for the first time post-spot accident? 👉👈

yes!! i love this sm

i didn't intend for this to be this long, but i got carried away and added some angst to the beginning --- i hope that's okay! (read tw)

i hope you enjoy ♡

“So… where can I put my hands?”

1.1k+ words

Summary: After Jonathan doesn't contact you for days, you begin to panic... Just when he comes back, looking completely different. Angst turned fluff.

TW: brief mention of death and losing someone. if you want to skip the angst, i marked out a spot in the fic colored like this where its just the fluff!

You just woke up from another tough sleep, the unusually cold blankets providing little comfort to your morning.

Jonathan hadn’t come back to your place to sleep last night. It wasn’t rare for this to occur — he was a busy man with a job that you mostly didn’t understand, but you were supportive regardless. It sucked when he didn’t, but you trusted him.

It had been three days since he had come home. Or messaged, or called. Dread filled your gut when he didn’t answer your calls, the endless possibilities of what could’ve happened to him spiraling in your mind. It was torture.

All you knew about his job was that he was some sort of scientist. Sometimes, when he was tired, he would complain about things he called “multiverses” and testing different experiments. Long story short, you had spent the past few days tirelessly searching for any little crumb of information about them. You learned that a multiverse is 'a collection of infinitely many alternate realities and dimensions'.

Obviously, this information did not calm your panic. Where was Jonathan?

… Was he even alive?

During your daily morning spiral, a knock on the door of your apartment cuts off your thoughts.

Your tired eyes shoot open, and you walk over to the mirror to check if you looked mildly presentable, and not like you woke up 5 minutes ago. After fixing your hair and slipping on a t-shirt lying around (which happened to be Jonathan’s), you open the door.

Expecting one of the other residents that lived in the building, your body froze when you saw…

What were you looking at?

A white figure of — a man? — stood in front of you, endless-looking holes covering its body, standing over you.

You slammed the door in its face, locking your door, and running into the kitchen, grabbing a knife. You began to hyperventilate, your brain not being able to process what you just saw.

“No- please open the door, Y/N.” The voice spoke through the door, audibly shaky.

You froze again when it said your name, and you hoped this was all just a nightmare.

... That was until you heard your name again, and a rattle of keys opening the door. You panicked and ran as far away from the door as you could, holding the knife close to you and never breaking eye contact with the creature. Weirdly enough, you thought the voice sounded familiar.

“Y/N, it's Jonathan…” It said, now almost sounding on the verge of tears, despite its clear lack of eyes, let alone a face.

“No- No, you are not- You are not real, this is not real, nope.” Hearing the name Jonathan said out loud in a voice that sounded so much like him shoke your body, your hand almost slipping and dropping the knife.

“Please… it’s me. I can explain everything, answer all your questions-”

“Prove it. Prove that you’re Jonathan.” You begged, your hands not letting up on the knife just yet. There was just no way.

“I uh- you’re wearing my shirt, the one you gifted to me on our 3 month anniversary. You hate it when I don’t come back every night, and you always leave out a little cookie for me-”

As he continued on, you dropped the knife to the floor with a clatter, and you almost ran up to engulf him in a hug, when you remembered what he had become.

“Wh… What happened to you?” You said, shock and concern filling your voice.

Skip here for just fluff! ♡

After he explained everything, you sat in a daze, walking closer to him.

"So… where can I put my hands?” You asked, carefully touching the white areas of his skin. He felt different — what used to be his soft and fuzzy arms were now smooth and flush with the rest of his body.

He looked at you briefly, and smiled, though he was a little embarrassed by his new body. He pointed at the portal’s edges while explaining.

“I’ve found it’s better not to put your hands into the portals, as it's kinda confusing. I don’t really understand it yet. The edges are fine usually, just be careful.”

“Wait a minute–” You pause.

“So you just walked back here, with no clothes on, and holes everywhere?” You say bluntly, which cracks a laugh out of him.

"Well, what was I supposed to do? Nobody wanted to sell me anything!” He laughed, but you could tell he was genuinely hurting from the whole situation. He had always been anxious, avoiding being the center of attention at all costs — and now he was practically a light in a dark room.

His response made you smile, and you walked over to your closet, grabbing one of your oversized shirts and passing it to him.

“Oo, yeah, that would actually help so you don’t accidentally slip into one of the portals.” He says, catching the shirt and slipping it on.

“You look strangely cute in that,” you blurt out accidentally, before walking over to your ‘shared’ bedroom. You sit in your bed and face the door, watching him come in with pink now flushed over his typically white skin. It made it much more obvious that he was blushing, and you giggled at his appearance.

“Come here, silly.” You lay down, pulling a blanket over your body, and tapping the spot next to you so he would lay down. A little embarrassed, he complied, sitting next to you and tucking himself under the blanket. He still lay a safe distance away from you, seemingly more nervous about this than you were.

You, on the other hand, shifted closer to him and wrapped a hand around his waist, pulling him closer to you, but still far enough away to look at his ‘face’.

You could tell he was nervous. You didn’t need to see his facial expressions for that.

Experimentally, you moved your hand to his jaw, rubbing the pad of your thumb over his chin in an attempt to calm him. When you did this, the portal on his face shrank, as if he were closing his eyes.

You smiled at this, moving your hand around his face more, exploring the new surface. Happy that he was now a little calmer, you planted a soft kiss on his skin, turning him bright pink again.

“You get flustered so easily, dear.” You giggled, teasing him.

You could feel him squirm slightly, but your hand around his waist prevented him from moving much.

“S-Shut up,” he mumbled, covering his now hot cheeks with his hand. You were quick to grab his hand, leaving a kiss on his knuckles before moving it away from his face.

All of your actions seemed to overwhelm him with joy, and he cuddled up closer to you with a satisfied hum.

"I love you," he said as he wrapped his legs and arms over your body, making sure that you wouldn't enter any of his portals.

You had missed this so much. Although things had changed, your bond had grown stronger.

“I love you too, weirdo.”

[tragedycoded]

this is a shout-out post

Specifically @ those folks who--at some point in the last three months--have left thoughtful, encouraging, or completely unhinged comments on Doom Metal Love Story, only to be met with crickets from the ADHD introvert who wrote the damned thing. I do read every single comment, I just apparently need a secretary.

This also serves as an "I highly recommend these blogs/writers" post. If you're following me and not following these folks, you're doing yourself a disservice. Most of them are writing queer horror or horror-adjacent fiction that affects my brain chemistry.

I'm more sick than I was when I was answering inappropriate questions the other day, so I apologize for the... uh... shit, what's the word. This post sucks. I'm sorry. You all deserve a big hug and thousands of hits on your own fics.

@aintgonnatakethis does military sci-fi with queer relationships like a g. Would highly recommend checking out his fics.

@astramachina my beloved. His FNAF fics are engrossing (I'm hooked on Driving Through Tunnels (With No Light at the End)) and I'm excited to see more analog horror from him.

What is there to say about @cowboybrunch that everyone following me doesn't already know? Thank you for your love here and your comments over on AO3. You were Hofer's first fan, and in my heart you're his #1. I know I keep saying this but if you aren't reading Dust to Dust, fix that. Judas Wept is also ace (not ace as in asexual. The throuple definitely bang. #GemmaDidNothingWrong)

Is @davycoquette still around or is she one of those cool bloggers who shows up with mind-blowing posts for six months and then disappears?

@gioiaalbanoart my love. There is no way I could respond to all of your comments. I do intend to print them out and wallpaper my office with them, which imo is better than responding. I can't wait to read TSA.

@jev-urisk your deep reads of the main characters, your fanart, and your moodboards have made me feel things I didn't think it was possible to feel. The intro post for 7 Circles slays, and I can't wait for it to be out in the world.

@noblebs gets a threat: if you don't finish EWT I'm going to beat your ass with something soft. Your comments always spark joy, and your characters are a delight.

@sableglass has given me feedback that's going to make draft 6/the IF novel better. Thank you, buddy. She's also got this laser-guided way of writing that goes straight for the gut. I'm really glad I met you, man.

@sh0ckrot your love and support of this damned novel was so uplifting. Thank you for cheering when I was first getting it off the ground. (Also, hi, this is my new blog, sorry I vanished.)

@solivagantingrebel I know I've been quiet on Bleeding Oath but it's SO GOOD. Vampire!Ghost and Werewolf!Soap have my heart, and I am rooting for them. And also looking forward to the day I have my beta read backlog cleared so I can go back through and give this one the line-highlighter treatment.

Everybody already knows @the-golden-comet but he helped me so much emotionally when I was publishing the back third of this damned thing. If you don't know how much I appreciate you, Goldie... 🧼🧼🧼

@wyked-ao3 IDK where you came from, but you are an absolute gem. Thank you for helping me learn to love my tritagonist (Royston) whom I almost killed in the fourth draft, and for sharing your Pinterest finds with me.

I can't shout out readers without highlighting @words-after-midnight who beta read the thing and is the only reason the Bad Ending chapter makes any damned sense. I'm excited for Life in Black and White to finally make it out into the world. Nico inspires me every day.

OK no more dayquilposting. Carry on.

[omgpoindexter]

more nurseydex fics!!!

i’ve been doing my duty properly and reading some different nurseydex fics on ao3 lately 🫡 i tried to find some that are more recent, however i inevitably found some that are older but slipped through the cracks for me.

here are some of the ones i came across that you need to read! i might make this a thing again if anyone is interested, im sure y’all have been much more on the ball with reading nurseydex fics than i have over the years but i do love reccing <3

suddenly this summer it’s clear by @dessertwaffles

The summer before senior year, Nursey and Dex become closer than ever.

Or, Nursey and Dex's developing relationship, as told through their text messages.

i was absolutely grinning the entire way through this. it’s a texting fic, with images rather than plain text (so clever!) but their personalities are so strong and their interactions are just perfect! and you know i love a texting fic

getting used to letting go by @jennybeantime

Dex was supposed to have a fancy job in some city upon graduation, but his plans changed once his uncle died and left the family home in Maine to him. Without immediate obligations of their own, Nursey, Chowder and Farmer follow Dex up there to help him clear it out and clean it up.

this fic is BEAUTIFUL. if you haven’t read it then please do yourself a favour and do it now. it captures certain feelings and emotions so effortlessly and i felt like i was in a little maine bubble living this story with them. i can’t believe i missed this one before, please please read!!

got the feeling you’re the right thing after all by @bisexualnursey

Two and a half years after he breaks up with Dex to go to grad school across the country, Nursey runs into him again when he visits New York for the holidays. What starts as them just rekindling their friendship quickly turns into a whole other thing: a 100% no-strings-attached friends with benefits arrangement while they’re in the same city.

Which is totally chill because Nursey is definitely over Dex. He swears. He’s going back to California soon anyway.

i seriously CANNOT BELIEVE i never read this before but i think i was in my inactive era when this was posted. it’s just so perfect!!! all the feelings and interactions with not only dex and nursey but all the other characters, friends and family, they all felt so real and i loved them so much. i’ll be rereading this a LOT! you should too!!

here i am (leaving you clues) by @averteddeyes

Will loves Nursey. Nursey loves Will. Will isn’t really quite sure how to deal with it.

(Alternatively: Will learns acceptance through poetry, hesitant communication, and brightly colored sticky notes.)

this is really gorgeously written. angst warning, because ouch!!! also poetry as a love language, like a really good selection of poetry, i really enjoyed it and how it weaves into the story. and the bittydex friendship is so important to me!!!

volta by @plusoultres

volta (n.) a turning point or point of change in a poem, most commonly a sonnet.

Or, five times a poem doesn’t reach its intended recipient, and one time it does; five drafts, and one work completed; five turning points, and one ending.

the second fic was inspired by this one, and thank goodness it was because this one totally slipped through the cracks and i’m so glad i read it. their banter is just brilliant and i love the variation in medium, and the poetry is beautiful! i could quote lines from this but im not going to. just. read it

things got weird (when we made out) by @andtimestoodstill

Nursey is being stupid about this. He knows he’s being stupid.

super fun and really cute, i love it when these two are just being idiots. great inclusion of the other teammates too. read it for this line alone: “[You’re doing] That thing where you forget to look like you hate Dex and just stare at him like some Victorian lady who just saw a hot dude for the first time.” because it made me laugh out loud

things that go bump in the night by @smashthatlikebitty

The first time it happens, Dex rolls over and flings so many obscenities in Nursey’s direction that even his Grandmother would have to sit down — and she cursed so much at Dex’s cousin’s wedding that the whole family has been banned from that church ever since.

Nursey just stills in the dark, one shoe off. A languid, infuriating presence. “Chill, man.”

essentially all the times nursey’s clumsy ass wakes dex up in the night. oh how i love pretending these two roomied their way into a relationship! this is so cute, smiled all the way through

some things take two people to build by @cricketnationrise

“You are the single most dramatic person I have ever met,” Dex mutters, trying valiantly to hide his grin.

Or, 5 times Dex wishes their relationship was real +1 time he doesn't have to

this was so fun, yet again i love them being idiots!!! these two in new york city is so important to me. and i for one would LOVE to read the work party 5+1 fic. just saying