#(to be clear i mean if i spotted it in the wild i would be unable to stop myself but that is. a bit unlikely) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellieslittlewh0re · 8 months

Text

╰┈➤ 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - you and ellie have been dating for a few months. everything is great- perfect even, but you two haven’t had sex yet… ellie is always telling you to take your time, there’s no rush- but you’re finally ready, and ellie is going to give you the proper experience.

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 - this is v self indulgent lol, fluff, canon jackson ellie behavior, smut, MINORS DNI

Her hands were chill to the touch, and rough against the skin of your thigh, but you didn't mind.

It had been 3 months since you started dating Jackson's designated "it" girl, and by "it" girl- that really means that everyone seems to be a little scared of her for one reason or another. Maybe it was because her face screamed "don't fucking talk to me".

That didn't stop you though.

You had your eyes on her since you arrived through those gates- baby faced and painfully ignorant to Jackson's way of living. It was scary- terrifying even. You weren't sure if you could ever get used to it, but with time and the loving care you had received from the community, it slowly became your normal, and Ellie became your main focus.

"Babe, you're not paying attention to the movie." Ellie huffed, annoyed that you weren't as invested in the film as she was- it was one of her favorites after all.

Little does she know, you were too busy thinking about her, and how far you've come to get to this point.

You giggled, sinking further into her on the bed of her detached garage/home. You wrapped both your arms around her bicep, smiling as you place a kiss on the apple of her cheek, "m' sorry Els, guess I was just distracted." You shrugged, not really expecting her to understand.

But she did understand- painfully so. She may not be good at showing it, but when she saw you that day- day fucking one of you showing up in Jackson- she knew that you would make things that much harder for her. And of fucking course it was her luck that you got paired with her during your first outing of patrol.

Seeing you up close- that sparkle in your eye and the way you laughed so freely like the world wasn't actively ending... it did something to her, something she couldn't explain. Her thoughts were consumed of you- wether it was a glimpse of you she stole earlier in the day or her imagination running wild when she too pent up to sleep.

Now, she doesn't have to imagine it. It was real- YOU were real, and you were hers.

"Distracted? How can you be distracted when there's dinosaurs on the tv?" She asked perplexed, throwing her hand up motioning to the not-so-great looking cgi creatures.

Tension between you two had been rising exponentially high these past few weeks. Even though you have been dating for a while, you two hadn't had sex yet, and that was because of you.

It's not like you didn't want to or you hadn't thought about it, but you were still a virgin, and Ellie always made it clear that it's on your terms- no one else's.

But your birthday just passed, and Ellie made sure you had the best day- making you breakfast, taking you to her super secret spot down by the lake that she guaranteed only the "coolest" people knew about, and you wanted to show your gratitude and appreciation for her- plus the urges whenever you were around her were growing harder to ignore.

Your stomach fluttered, feeling the heat from her body pressed against yours, her hand that never seemed to want to leave your thigh- it felt like the right moment.

You slightly lift yourself off the bed, swinging your leg over her hips as gracefully as you could so you could straddle her. Ellie holds her hands up, not touching you because she was genuinely surprised by your actions. She lets out a chuckle, thinking you were in one of your moods where'd you'd hold her down and borderline torture her with your ruthless tickle attacks, but instead- you leaned in, ghosting your lips over her neck before placing kisses to the skin below her ear.

Ellie's hands move from your hips to the plush of your ass, squeezing the flesh gently in her hands, "oh yeah? Is this is what we're doing now?" She let out a breathy chuckle, tilting her head to the side to give you more access.

"Mmhm." You muffled a response into neck before sucking lightly, pulsing the skin between your lips like how she had done to you so many times before.

Ellie's eyes squeeze shut, relishing in the hot, wet sensation of your mouth on her. Her fingers tightened on your ass, body shifting slightly underneath you because her boxers suddenly felt way too fucking tight.

"Fuck- do you have any idea what you do to me?" She almost confesses, biting down on her bottom lip enough to leave a metallic taste on her tongue.

"I'm not doing anything, just kissing ya." You act innocent, but in your defense you really didn't know what you were doing, but you could tell it was doing something to her by the way her hands grabbed more harshly at your hips and sides, littering your skin with crescent indents everywhere her fingers went.

As hard as Ellie was trying to be patient with you, she was slowly losing control. Mentally, she was punching her head- knocking some morals back into her brain, but fuck-

Your teeth grazed her skin, sending goosebumps down her limbs, "I wanna do it, Els... m'ready."

You pull away, cheeks flushed and lips even more so- batting your eyelashes, and embarrassed out of your mind because you weren't sure how dumb you sounded to your more experienced girlfriend.

But Ellie doesn't think that you sound dumb- instead, she's kicking her feet inside her head, jumping around in a field of wildflowers because you trusted her enough to give yourself over to her at your most vulnerable.

"Babe, are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have-" Ellie rambles, and honestly, it's quite cute. She was trying so hard to be the good girlfriend, but it didn't matter because you were already cutting her off mid sentence with your finger pressed against her lips, "m'sure" you nod your head in assurance before leaning forward to kiss her lips.

She smiled into the kiss as her tongue slipped inside, her arms wrapping around the the smallest part of your waist to pull you closer to her.

She molded herself into you- or maybe you molded yourself to her- just two bodies holding each other, touching skin, and tasting. You've always loved the way she tasted- the way she smelled when she was this close. It was sweet like honeysuckle and wild berries on the vine when the sun was at its highest in the sky.

Ellie's hands came between you two, snaking underneath the leg of your shorts to squeeze the skin. A moan slips passed your lips and into Ellie's mouth, causing her to chuckle into the kiss, "someone's excited."

"Ellieee~" you pouted, shoving your hands between your legs because you felt weird- a bubbling sensation in your lower stomach, waves

of hot and cold pulsating up and down your body,

"oh, I'm sorry baby, did I embarrass you?"

You nodded shyly, swirling your hips on her lap without notice.

Ellie fakes a sympathetic pout, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "you poor thing," she said with not a hint of sympathy- instead, dripping with malice.

Ellie wasn't doing it on purpose though, she could never. She was going to savor this moment- the moment right before the storm until it was long past, forgotten between bare skin, linen sheets, and her senses filled with you.

Her hands hold your face, stroking her thumb over the apple of your cheek, pulling you into to her to kiss you. It was slow, deep- the kind of kiss that felt like a goodbye.

You moan into it, arching your back under her touch, mind fuzzy because all you could focus on was getting friction in any way you could, "el-ellie, please." You begged in your sweet, shaky tone that drove her fucking crazy no matter how many times she heard it after a make out session went a little too far.

Ellie's jaw clenches slightly, fisting the sheets beside your knees because she was painfully horny, but tried her best to hide it in front of you. She couldn't bare the embarrassment if you knew all the little things that you did that made her like this- your voice, the way you smelled or even the way you looked at her sometimes. All of it would engrave itself into Ellie's mind, replaying over and over which would slowly shift to all the things she'd want to do to you- wether it'd be something simple like kissing parts of your body that she had never seen before, and the more sinful desires of hers which mostly consisted of your face buried into a pillow, ass high in the air as she uses your hips as handlebars, driving her cock deep inside your dripping cunt-

Yeah, she'd definitely take those secrets to the grave if she could help it...

Her hand travel up your back before her fingers intertwine with your hair, squeezing close to the scalp- not hard, but hard enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Ellie's eyes gleamed with something evil as she relished in the sight on top of her- your half hooded eyes that screamed 'fuck me', your mouth slightly ajar as short quickened breaths escape them.

She used her grip in your hair to pull you in once more, clashing her lips against yours. Your teeth would occasionally bump against hers, but it didn't slow her down.

Things quickly escalated, her hands wrapping around the underside of your thighs as she turned both of you over- leaving you beneath her. Her mouth never left yours as her hand slipped underneath your thin cotton shirt, gently but urgently feeling the plush of your tummy before palming your breast.

You whimper at the sensation of her calloused fingers brushing over your hardened peak- your back arching off the mattress to get closer to her.

She breaks the kiss panting as she lowers to your ear, her warm breath dancing off your skin, "can I take it off?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice to remain steady. She trails kisses along your jaw before sitting up, grabbing the hem of your shirt. You sit up as the fabric is dragged over your back and over your head, leaving your chest on display.

"Fuck-" Ellie breaths out, her eyes twinkling in the warm glow from the bedside lamp, "you're beautiful- so fuckin’ beautiful.." she leans in again for a kiss, but your put your hands to her chest to stop her, "what about you?.. can I see?"

Ellie smirked, flashing a hint of her teeth, "dyin' to catch a glimpse, huh?"

Yes, oh my god, absolutely you were. You can't help feel a little embarrassed by the fact that your girlfriend indirectly called you a pervert, but if your a perv, what does that make her?

Ellie crosses her hands at the bottom of her hoodie, lifting it over her torso and head in one swift motion. You ogle at her toned stomach, slim waist, and prominent v lines that lead your eyes further down.

"This up to your standards?" She quipped, placing her hands on either side of your head.

"Mmm-" you think out loud, tilting your head to the side, "what about this?" You slip a finger into the underside of her sport bra, running it along the hem.

She raises an eyebrow skeptically as you bat your doe eyes at her, "s' only fair." You added, using your sickly sweet voice that made her obey your every command.

She groaned, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks told a different story- bright red and full from the smile she couldn't shake.

She sits back up, removing the article of clothing before coming back down, "happy?"

You nodded your head enthusiastically, wrapping your arms around her to feel her back. Your hands caress the skin- free of the distractions of clothes- from her shoulder blades, spine, and the curve of every muscle- you take your time to familiarize yourself with it all.

She kissed you, holding your face in one hand as the other propped herself up. It was slow, sweet and full of love, but also impatiently brutish- full of desire.

Her lips trialed down, kissing your chin, down your neck and collarbones, and scattering them over the delicate skin- leaving a trail to find her way back home to your lips.

"What about this?" She asked quietly, her breath brushing against the skin above your waistband.

You met her eyes and nod, quickly throwing your head back against the pillow because you were too embarrassed to make eye contact with her as she starts to tug down your shorts.

You lift your hips up, allowing her to drag the fabric down your legs- tossing your shorts to the side as it reaches your ankles.

"Huh-" Ellie scoffed to herself which caught your attention, "what?" You asked all worried something was wrong.

"You do this yourself?" She raised an eyebrow- the corner of her lips tugging up into a lopsided smirk as her fingers brush over the pink embroidered heart in the middle of your panties.

"Oh my god-" you whined as you cover your face in your hands, but Ellie couldn't find it more endearing.

It got her going honestly- how pure, innocent, and untainted you were- knowing that no one has ever seen or touched you like this.

She shimmied lower on the bed, positioning herself between your legs- eye level with your clothed covered cunt. She kissed your inner thighs, her tongue trialing over the skin so delicately.

You close your eyes, toes curling inside of your socks as you focus on her touch. It was hot- burning almost, and it felt magnified. Every pore, hair, and fiber was reacting to her.

Her warm breathed brushed against you as she tugged your panties to the side so it only covered your center, sucking your outer lips- pulling the skin back and letting it fall back into place with a soft *plop*.

She fisted the fabric between her fingers, letting it fold into you as she pulled it upwards- letting it grind against your clit. As soft wine emits from you as you start to squirm, letting your knees drift further apart.

Ellie isn't done teasing you. She loved getting you all worked up over something so small- it's not like it was hard.

Next, she smooths your panties over your puffy cunt, palming it roughly with the base of her wrist bumping your bud as she locked her eyes into your face- watching your eyebrows pinch in aroused frustration, your bottom lip sinking between your teeth. "El-Ellie, please." You barely make out, almost like a dogs beloved toy- airy and only faintly squeaky. "Mm-? What is it? Use your words, baby- I need words." She mocked in her annoyingly cocky tone as she kissed the center of your soaked panties, tasting you through the cotton.

You hiccup- finding the strength to talk, "I need- mmhm.. need your tongue, Els." Your bottom lip pouty and glistening from your spit as you look down at her with begging eyes. Ellie chuckled into your center, sending a vibration through core, "see? That wasn't so hard." Again with the cocky remarks, but really it was just a cover to hide how fucking eager she was.

You lift your hips as her fingers laced into the hem of your underwear, pulling them down to to reveal you in you're most natural form. Her hands quickly found shelter on top of your thighs, hooking her arms underneath your legs to secure you further. You were locked in tight- no one was getting in or out like a panic room or a sealed vault.. not unless Ellie says otherwise. The tip of her tongue tempted a tease- feathering delicate swipes over your glistening folds, but once she had a a taste, there was no point to holding back. She was instantly hooked on the tangy taste mixed with a sweet cider- hooked on no matter how wet you already were, your slick only seemed to keep coming like a never ending supply. "All for her" she thought, and she's not one to let something go to waste.

You fisted the sheets by your side, threatening to close your thighs around her head but she forced them open- her fingers tugging apart the skin on thighs to spread you open further. "this all for me, huh?- " She heaved between the laps of her tongue before flexing the muscle and sinking into your cunt. You cry out as your nails sink into the inked lines of her forearm. Ellie must have liked this reaction, but she wanted more, "answer me, baby." She commanded in a tone that you've only ever heard her use when she was being dead serious. It startled you a little so you meet her eyes with your glossy ones, giving her a nod.

She chuckled lowly, a deep rattle coming from her chest as she brought her hand down, running a finger through your glossy mixture, "say it-" she sunk her finger into you, but not enough to make you feel full. You wine in frustration, a tear spilling over the full of your cheek, "f-for you.. mmph- 's all for you, ellie-"

The air inside your lungs gets cut off as her finger plunged into you, slipping it out only to repeat.

She takes her time- relishing in the sounds of your sopping cunt sucking her back in, and the soft moans that danced off your tongue.

Her mouth latched back onto your neglected bud as she continued to stretch you out- curling her finger inside before she added a second one, "so good, baby.. - fuck.. such a good fuckin' girl." She panted- more liked chanted praises, but not really directed at anyone in particular- more like she was drunk off you- delirious, and wide eyed like making you cum was the only thing she was put on this earth to do.

A pressure was building inside your tummy, and if she kept going- it had nowhere else to go. "El... feels- feels weird.." you choke between each thrust, your voice shaky as it got caught in your throat. Ellie flicks her tongue over your swollen, clit "it's okay, baby. I got you" she cooed, using her free hand to press on the back of your thigh so your knee bounced off your chest with each thrust. But this time- it reached deeper, hitting against your spongy core harder than before. She suctioned your clit between her lips, letting it go as she pulled back.

She sat up, never faltering her pace inside you as you ass bounced against her crotch with each blow she gave you.

You marvel at her- even though her chest was exposed, the position of her towering over you, her crotch lined up with your entrance as you became mush underneath her- you can't help but feel a power dynamic was at play.

You tense under her, your limbs and stomach tightening as you come undone around her fingers. She fucked you through it, whispering sweet praises of "good girl- you're doing so good, baby... such a pretty little thing "

She slow to exit you, knowing your sensitive right now. She leans over you, placing her hands either side of your head to plant a simple kiss to your lips before she leaves to the bathroom, coming back with a washcloth that was damp with warm water. She sits back down with your legs over hers, carefully cleaning you up. When she's done, she helps you get dressed- dressing you in her t-shirt and her comfiest pair of boxers.

Your head instantly finds sanctuary on her chest as soon as she joins you in the bed. She holds you close, placing a kiss to the top of your head- not bothering to continue the movie, just laying together in the silence that was occasionally broken up between hums and soft breathing.

Her fingers dance over the bare skin of your upper arm, resting her chin into of your head, "well-" she chuckles, "was it everything you hoped for?"

You looked up at her, stretching your neck to peck her lips before nuzzling into her, "no, it was more."

☆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @machetegirl109

2K notes · View notes

punkshort · 2 months

Note

i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?

i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂

I hate when you're right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene

WC: 2.5K

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.

You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.

Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.

You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.

The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.

"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.

He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."

You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.

"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.

"They ain't practical."

You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"

His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.

"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."

He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.

"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.

"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.

"Alright, when they stop to reload-"

"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.

Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.

Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.

You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.

"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.

Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.

"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.

"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.

When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.

"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.

"Focus," he scolded.

The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.

"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.

"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.

Two against two.

When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.

You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.

"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.

Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.

One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.

Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.

He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.

You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.

"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.

Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.

"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.

"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."

"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.

"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.

"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.

"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."

"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.

"Yes, I do. I gotta-"

"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.

"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.

"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.

You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.

"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."

"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"

"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.

"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.

When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.

You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.

"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.

"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."

"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"

"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."

You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.

follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us game #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #requests

443 notes · View notes

bitchimasnake-sss · 3 months

Text

at your mercy ft. roronoa zoro!

warning: includes NO PLOT ONLY PORN!!! zoro being mean, orgasm control and denial, squirting, use of toys, overstimulation, pet names (baby, good girl) and other miscellaneous horny shit. enjoy your meal 💗

zoro:

♡ at the edge of the bed stood a green-haired, cocky bastard with a cocky fucking grin on his face. atleast that's what you would have seen had you been able to open your eyes. "zo- fuck" your voice trembled, eyes clenched shut, "stop plea-se. please." ♡ the instructions were clear. count backwards from hundred and hold of your orgasm till you do. all meanwhile your boyfriend clutches the dildo harder, pushing it inside your weeping hole, bruising your cervix with each drawled out drag and rubbing blissfully against your gummy walls. ♡ it was fun the first time. or even the second time when he asked you to count from fifty-five. but it was the third time and- ♡ "zo- zoro pleas-e i can't" the vibrator struck up it's rhythmic motion against your clit, striking up the bundle of nerves as your boyfriend peered down at you. sweat clung uncomfortably onto you like second skin. hair damp and pressed against the back of your throat. all meanwhile his eyes bore figures onto your naked, supple skin. "awh, how fucking pathetic. are you too tired? weren't you talking shit about how long you can go?" "please please ple-ase fUCK" "i said count." "zo-" your pussy clenched unforgiving against the silicone, body faltering under the toy on your puffy, overstimulated clit, "ple- please fucK pl-ease. i can't i can't plea-" his fingers halted. his strong hand grabbed ahold of your jaw, digging harshly against your face fat, "are you too fucked out to understand? i said count." a low laugh escaped him, hands still holding your face firm, "or i'd stop right now. you want that? you want me to leave you half-fucked and stupid?" ♡ "no, no ple- ro' fuck" mustering whatever energy you had, you nodded frantically. "good fucking girl" his thumb rubbed over the spot he had held onto tightly, "now count." "thi-rty seven, thirty six... thirty fiv-five" ♡ "seve-seven, eig-, six.." as if sensing another approaching orgasm, zoro increased the level of vibration. the new set of sensation ran wild against your clit, sending you into overdrive. "zo-ZORO" back arching off the mattress, towards him. "keep going, just a little more." his lips engulfed your nipple, sucking on it lowly as he alternated the pace of the dildo. "hol-y fucking shit." your mouth felt far too dry, eyes leaking with unresolved tears and throat parched and aching from senseless moans and screams. he hummed against your nipple, as if silently commanding you to keep going. "fu-fuck okay." you inhaled sharply. and then, in one breath, "five, four, three, two, one- im gonna cum. fuck, fuck, fuck- im cummin' FUCK, 'ZO" ♡ he pulled out the dildo the same time he let go of your tit. he smirked down at you as you pussy gushed and clenched around nothing, a clear stream gushing out and painting him with your stickly sweet residue. his fingers swiftly turned off the vibrating device, watching in awe as you clenched around nothing. your pussy throbbing, thighs quivering, painted by the aftershocks and afterglow. ♡ you were a sight to devour. eyes clenched shut, lips crimson and parted, fingers caught up weakly against the bedsheets. ♡ he crawled upwards, caging you underneath his defined body. his calloused fingers caressed the damp skin on your jaw and neck, running over the marks he gave before he started his little game. his lips pasted a chaste kiss to your temple and he could taste the salty aftertaste on your skin. "hey" he mumbled, turning you around such that you could lay comfortable against his broad chest. "mhm" you mumbled, cozying up into him "you look like a mess" he whispered, pushing aside the stray strands that fell sweepingly over your pretty face. sleepy, you whispered back, "damn, i wonder why that is." a light chuckle rang through the humid air. pasting another kiss to your head, he asked, "too much?" "no, course not" "another round then? repay me maybe." "fuck no. go to sleep."

a/n: im back 😎😎. anyways more shit cumming soon (heheheh). sorry if this sucked, haven't written in literally forever.

#one piece #opla #roronoa zoro #op #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #zoro smut #roronoa zoro smut #zoro x reader smut #zoro fanfic #zoro fic #zoro imagine #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #the monster trio smut

564 notes · View notes

devildomcuties · 9 days

Text

Obey Me: Raspberries [Demon Brothers]

thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it :)

🕷 paring: demon brothers x gn!reader 18+

🕷 summary: Raspberries and tummy kisses.

🕷 wc: 2.2k

🕷 warnings: pet names (love, treasure, babe, hun, cupcake), hickeys, biting, oral sex, cum swallowing, making out, MC puts on lipstick

🕷 date: April 21, 2024

Lucifer

You savored every private moment with Lucifer. Most nights you snuck out of your bedroom and climbed the stairs, making sure none of the brothers spotted you entering Lucifer's bedroom.

“At this point, love, perhaps we should consider acquiring bunk beds,” Lucifer states as you shut his bedroom door.

“And why would we do that when you have a perfectly giant bed for the two of us?” You ask as you climb into bed beside him.

“You do make a good point,” Lucifer chuckles as he wraps an arm around you. He’s shirtless like always when he gets into bed. His sweatpants hang low on his hips and you roll over to face him. Your leg slides between both of his as you place your hand on his chest.

“Lie down,” you commanded and Lucifer hesitated before lying under you. He eyes you curiously as you straddle his hips.

Slowly, you kiss his neck, sucking on the one spot that drives him wild. He moans your name, his hands gripping the sheets as you sink your teeth into his neck.

“No marks,” he reminds you breathlessly as your tongue licks over the bite and you kiss your way down his perfectly sculpted torso.

Lucifer sits up on his elbows, his black hair disheveled from the mountain of pillows beneath him. He licks his lips when you kiss his hip, sucking gently for a moment.

“You know, there’s this thing we do back home,” you giggle as you sit up, grinning mischievously.

Lucifer quirks his head, befuddled.

“What is it, love?”

You don’t answer him. You lean forward and kiss around his belly button, tracing it with your tongue. You lick your lips and do your best to hide your wicked grin before you lean down and blow raspberries on his stomach.

“What in the Devildom is that?” Lucifer’s eyes are wide with surprise. After all this time knowing you, you could still surprise him with your human qualities.

“They’re called raspberries,” you explain as you do it again, and Lucifer rolls his eyes. You laugh before kissing his lips, moving to straddle him once again.

“It is an odd feeling,” he says when he presses his forehead to yours.

“It feels tingly for a bit on my lips,” you laugh before you find yourself on your back with Lucifer on top.

“I supposed I could give it a try,” Lucifer states as he kisses your lips once more before kissing his way down to your belly button.

Mammon

“Great Grimm! What are you doing here?!” Mammon asks as he’s caught in the act.

“You mean in my bedroom?” You ask with a raised brow. You spot him with your pillow after catching him sniffing it.

“Oh, yeah,” he laughs nervously as he sets your pillow down, his cheeks ablaze.

Mammon lies on your bed, his arms tucked behind his head as he tries to appear nonchalant. You suspect he’s up to no good by how hard he’s trying to appear innocent.

You spot his tummy exposed as you climb onto your bed. Mammon remains still as his eyes follow your movement.

“Gonna tell me what you were up to?” You ask as you lift his shirt a little higher. Your fingers trace the smooth planes of his abdomen slowly. You note the slight change in his breathing, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

“Just wanted to see you,” he clears his throat as he looks at your fingers. You lean forward after licking your lips and blow raspberries on his stomach. He jerks, eyes wide and full of surprise as he looks at you with his mouth wide open.

“What do ya think you’re doing? What was that?!” He laughs as he shakes his head. It tickled but mostly surprised him.

“Tell me the truth or I’ll do it again!” You threatened playfully. Mammon smirks, miming zipping his lips as you blow raspberries on him again.

Mammon laughs, jerking beneath you as you do it twice more before he gives up.

“Just so you know, Treasure, I get to do this to you next,” Mammon smiles smugly as you kiss the spot beneath his belly button.

“Do your worst.”

Levi

“What kind of normie thing is this?” Leviathan asks as he stares at you with wide eyes. Solomon had managed to grab a few DVD sets of your favorite shows and now on screen, the protagonist was giving raspberries to her romantic partner.

You laugh. “They’re just raspberries.”

“They don’t look like fruit,” Levi is confused while you giggle. You motion for him to lay back in the tub, careful not to squish him too much though he loves it when you’re pressed tightly against him no matter how red his face turns.

You’re slow with your movements. You lift his shirt to expose his belly button and he blushes but doesn’t stop you, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Smiling, you lower his pants a bit as you lick your lips and press them to his skin. He curses, whispering your name as your tongue circles his belly button. You blow raspberries on him and he squeaks, covering his face as you do it again before kissing lower.

“Can I go further?” You ask as your finger circles the button on his pants.

“P-please,” he stutters as you undo the buttons of his pants and pull the zipper down. You give him plenty of time to tell you to stop but he doesn’t. Levi begs you to keep going as he lifts his hips as you tug his pants and boxers down.

Levi gasps when your hand wraps around his cock, eyes rolling back when you spit on the head.

“Oh, fuck,” Levi jerks his hips as you take him into your mouth. You bob up and down, slurping and sucking so hard his eyes roll back. No matter how many times you suck him off, he still gets so overwhelmed with pleasure he can hardly stand it.

When he hits the back of your throat, he sees stars, hips jerking as he cums down your throat. He barely remembers how this started, something about raspberries?

Satan

“What are you doing?” Satan jumps when he hears your voice.

“Shhh,” he hushed you as he shut the library door. He locks it and points to the couch.

You take a seat, waiting for Satan to say or do something.

“I stole this from Solomon’s room,” Satan explains as he shows you a book. “It’s got all sorts of Human World stuff.”

You nod. “You could have just asked me if you wanted to talk about human stuff. You know Solomon will realize sooner or later that you took his book without asking. Remember when you took the book on the ABC’s of Sex?”

Satan blushes, ignoring you as he grits his teeth. “I don’t recall.”

“Anyway,” you sigh, patting the spot beside you on the couch. Satan lies down when you push his shoulders, easily malleable under your hands. You’re the only one he would allow to treat him as such.

Anyone else would be obliterated where they stand.

You take the book from him after you straddle his lap, opening it to the first chapter. You skim through it while Satan grabs your hips. You read aloud, and Satan listens for the first few minutes until his hands move lower to grab your ass. You whisper a quick spell and the book flies from your hands and is narrated while you kiss Satan.

Satan loses interest in the book as you deepen the kiss, your hands removing his shirt before kissing your way down his body.

You pause at his stomach, taking your time to kiss every bit of skin. Satan moans softly, nearly whining beneath you as his cock grows hard. You palm him over his pants, licking your lips as you unbutton his pants.

Satan’s gaze meets yours, his lip caught between his teeth. He’s about to beg you to keep going, when a loud knock startles the both of you.

The stolen book falls to the carpeted floor with a soft thunk.

“Satan! Give me back my book or I’ll blow the library to bits!” Solomon huffs as he knocks again.

“Looks like he figured it out,” you smirk as you climb off Satan and grab the book.

Asmo

“Oh, hun,” Asmo moans as you rub his shoulders. You had spent the evening pampering him. From a long, hot bath to a foot massage and a manicure.

The two of you were spending the night together in bed. Tomorrow, he would take you on a grand date to celebrate your anniversary but tonight, you wanted him to feel good.

Asmo curses when you move lower before kissing your way down his spine. The oil you used sticks to your lips, making them glossy.

“Turn around,” you instruct and Asmo does so with a smile.

“Hello again,” he giggles as you lean in to kiss him. Asmo sighs happily as you kiss your way down his body, marking his pretty skin with love bites.

Asmo runs his fingers through your hair before reaching to the nightstand. He hands you a red lipstick that you apply.

Asmo smiles when you kiss his body, leaving red lip marks on every bit of skin touched by your pretty lips.

You reapply the lipstick, kissing the spot right below his belly button. You leave a mark on each hip, and one over his heart. Asmo grins as he looks down at you, pressing his lips to yours, smearing lipstick on both of your mouths.

Tomorrow, he’ll still have the mark over his heart and someday he’ll have it permanently marked.

Beel

Beel groaned as he set the weights down. He wiped his face with a towel and took his sweat-soaked shirt off.

You wave from your spot on the floor where you finish stretching. Beel sits down beside you, stretching his legs before falling onto the clean towel you laid out for him.

“Ah, I’m so hungry,” Beel laughs as he stares at the ceiling before he feels you climb over him.

“Funny, so am I,” you smirk as you press your lips to his, moaning when he grabs your hips. You deepen the kiss for a moment, moaning his name before you leave a trail of kisses down his body.

Your tongue circles his belly button, licking him up and down before tugging his shorts down. His hard cock greets you and your mouth waters at the sight as your hand wraps around him but your fingers never meet.

You spit on the head of his cock, grinning when Beel moans your name. You lick your lips and then stick your tongue out.

Beel grabs his cock, slapping the head on your tongue as you drool on yourself.

“Oh, Cupcake,” Beel grunts as you take him back into your mouth. He curses, rolling his hips as you stroke him. You wet your lips, puckering them to blow raspberries on the head of his cock. Beel groans, his eyes shut as you lick his length before you bob up and down.

Beel grabs the back of your head, cursing when you swallow and choke. You gasp for breath, allowing Beel to set the pace he likes before he’s pulling you off his cock.

“I can’t wait anymore, babe. I need you,” Beel says before his lips meet yours.

Belphie

Belphie had fallen asleep with your head on his lap. You told him about your day before you dozed off with his fingers in your hair.

He tried to stay awake but he soon nodded off shortly after you. It would only be a couple of hours before someone interrupted the two of you, so he wanted to wake up after a short nap.

When Belphie wakes up next, your lips are on his stomach. He feels the feather light touch of your lips repeatedly, only stopping when you see he’s awake.

“We slept through the night,” you state with a sheepish smile.

“Damn,” Belphie shakes his head. “I was hoping we’d get more time together.”

“I took care of it,” you inform him before you go back to kissing his stomach, gently sucking on his hip bone. Belphie moans your name, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a toe-curling kiss that leaves you seeing stars.

Soon, you’re beneath him as he trails kisses from your jaw down to your belly button. His name slips past your lips as you grip his hair in your hand just as he kisses right above your belly button. He kisses every inch of you before he tickles you.

“Belphie!” You squeak before he kisses your hand. He blows a raspberry on your hip and you chuckle, pushing him away before you straddle him.

“You play around too much,” you tell him as he kisses each of your wrists before pressing your hands together and placing them on the bed.

“I do,” he admits with a yawn. “But I only give as much as you can take.”

“And how much can I take?” You goad him with a smirk.

“How about we find out?” Belphie kisses you, his tongue meeting yours. His moans are music to your ears, and you kiss him harder, wanting to breathe him in completely, to devour every last bit of his being.

#obey me imagines #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me smut #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me requests

273 notes · View notes

triptuckers · 4 months

Text

wild flowers - percy jackson

Request: yes! "Can I request a platonic Percy Jackson x Child of Demeter!Reader based off the new Disney series? Where Child of Demeter!Reader is significantly older than Percy (17/18 maybe?) and is the one to welcome him to camp instead of Luke. Reader is more gentle and understanding to Percy's questions and is in general sort of a parent figure in the camp?" Pairing: percy jackson x demeter!reader (platonic) Summary: you welcome the newest kid at camp half-blood Warnings: none (omg??) Word count: 1.1K A/N: was excited when I saw the new episode will be out on Tuesday but then I looked at the time zone and it's 3 am for me so I'll still watch it on wednesday :') thanks for your request, enjoy!

you try not to look away as percy, the newest addition to camp half-blood, nearly shoots another camper. he falls to the ground due to the force of the bow.

'alright.' you say, walking over to see if percy's okay. 'so not archery.'

'I didn't mean to!' says percy, looking at the kids who had flattened themselves to the ground to avoid being shot.

'of course you didn't, they know that. can I have the bow?' you say.

percy quickly shoves the bow in your hands as well as the quiver of arrows. you hand them back to the apollo kid who was teaching him with a thanks and an apologetic smile.

'see, I suck at this.' says percy. 'I'm not good at anything.'

'hey, that's not true.' you say. 'everyone is good at something. c'mon, I'll take you to my favorite spot at camp.'

that gets his attention. 'your favorite spot?'

'yep. right this way.'

you lead him away from the archery field. you can tell he's curious. you take him to the strawberry field, where some of the satyrs and your siblings are tending to the plants.

you walk past the strawberries to a field of grass where wild flowers grow.

'it's pointless.' says percy as the two of you sit down.

you frown. 'what is?'

he gestures around. 'all of this. I'm not one of you. it's clear there's something wrong with me. none of this matters because my dad won't reveal himself, he doesn't care. my mom is gone. I suck at archery. and I can't work in the forge. I can't do anything.'

you look at him. most kids are tough on themselves when they arrive. percy isn't any different.

'at least you didn't suck as much at archery than I did.' you say. 'contrary to you, I actually did hit someone when trying out archery '

percy's eyes widen. 'you did?'

you nod. 'apollo kids had to patch them up. luckily it wasn't that bad. but still I haven't touched a bow since. and I'm also not good at sword fighting. I only carry one because it's the weapon I suck the least with.'

'what if you suck at everything?' asks percy softly.

you smile at him. 'this is all normal. we all felt like this when we came here, regardless if we could already fight or not. and look at me, I still can't fight that well. I'm a joke compared to luke and clarisse if it comes to fighting. gods, even annabeth is better than me and she's your age.'

you point ahead to the strawberry fields. 'my cabin doesn't bring forth the best fighters. and that's okay. we're good at other things.' you say.

percy looks at your siblings, sure enough, not a lot of them carry weapons. maybe you do because you're head counsellor of your cabin.

'when did you find out who your mom was?' asks percy.

you sense he's not just curious about your godly heritage. he wants to know how long it would take before his father claims him. and he already knows there are unclaimed kids.

'for me it was pretty clear. I've always loved plants. I've got an impressive garden back at home.' you say. 'demeter claimed me my second day at camp.'

'so pretty fast...'

'for some kids it's fast. for some it's slow. some kids are very certain about who their godly parent is and sometimes they're right and sometimes they're not. you can't predict it with 100% accuracy.'

'did someone guess it correctly?'

'most of the times it's the athena kids who are right about their hunches. but they're athena kids of course, very smart. also a lot of ares kids are right. and for others it's a 50/50 chance. for instance, milo. everyone was convinced he was a hephaestus kid because he really liked to blow stuff up. turns out he's an athena kid. he's just really smart about blowing stuff up.'

'I bet I'm a kid of the god or failure or something. I'm just a regular kid, I'm not special. I don't have any impressive powers. not like you.'

'you think my powers are impressive?' you chuckle. 'I'm good with plants percy. over the years I've learned how to master those. but at first all I did was accidentally make flower patches.'

percy looks at you, frowning. 'you what?'

you laugh, then point to your shoes. they look like you've worn them every day for the past five years. which you have, somehow they won't wear down.

'these were a gift from my mom. if I don't wear them, flowers grow where I walk.'

'really?'

you nod and take them off. you get up and walk a circle around percy. and indeed, flowers grow where you put your feet down on the grass. you pick one and give it to percy, then put your shoes back on.

'it's the only thing I still can't master. maybe it's not something to be mastered. I'd ask my mom but the only time I saw her was when I was out fighting for my life. wasn't really the time to ask about flowers. she didn't even give me my shoes in person, just sent them here.'

you and percy are silent as you look out over the valley. you remember your first days at camp, how scared you were. you didn't know anyone, you were told your mom was a goddess, and you could never have a moment alone because there would always be someone who could find you based on the flowers you left behind.

'everyone here has been through what you're going through now.' you say. 'maybe they didn't experience it in the same way. I mean, you did kill the minotaur. but all of them have been confused, wondered about wether they belong, if there's something wrong with them. we all found our way in the end.'

'did you feel like you didn't belong?'

'sure. but then chiron explained to me it's all because of the gods. we've got dyslexia because our brain is wired in greek. the adhd is from our need to fight. it's all in our dna. just give it time, you'll belong. any other questions?'

'what do you do when you're not at camp?'

you smile. 'try not to run into any monsters and wait for the time to go to camp again. you'll find your family here, percy, trust me. now let's see if the aphrodite can teach you anything.'

you get up and offer your hand to percy. after pulling him to his feet, you start to walk toward the aphrodite cabin.

'you know, regardless of what cabin you belong to, you can always come to me if you have any questions.' you say.

percy smiles at you. 'thanks.'

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

682 notes · View notes

learnyouabiology · 1 year

Text

Fun Fact: Hognose snakes are dramatic lil guys!

I am particularly fond of the snakes known as hognose snakes, and my reasons are both understandable and correct.

This is a hognose snake:

(They received their name by having the sweetest lil snoot to ever require a boop – image source)

They use these adorable snoots to burrow under sandy soil using a sort of nuzzle-y motion. They then use these burrows as a place to sleep at night, hibernate in the winter, and lay their eggs.

(you could say they’re into... the Underground Scene! ...ok yeah i’ll show myself out – image source)

Plus, they come in a variety of delightful colours!

We've got brown! Beige! Yellow! Black! Red! Orange! Tan! Kinda greenish! Orange again!

(pretty sneks! – Here’s all the image sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)

And, to be clear, the snakes pictured above are wild snakes. No selective breeding by humans in these noodly bois! At least, not in these specific individuals. probably. I guess a few of them could be escapees...

But most importantly: These snakes know the true meaning of DRAMA

Hognose snakes are actors, first and foremost. When they feel threatened, the first thing they do is puff out their neck into a hood.

(like cobras, this hood is made by FLEXING THEIR NECK RIBS. which: gross – image source x)

This superficially makes them look like a cobra, but what they’re actually trying to do is make themselves seem bigger, and therefore scarier. Possibly those dark spots on their neck helps with that!

Any resemblance to real-life Eurasian cobras, real or fictional, is purely coincidental

Also, it makes its mouth do this:

(Snakes that SCREAAAAAAAM. – image source)

honestly, if I didn’t already know that hognose snakes were harmless, this would ABSOLUTELY make me leave it the hell alone

But if all of that^ is unsuccessful at scaring away the predator, the hognose snake pulls its signature move: playing dead

If you think that is a lame signature move, then you are wrong, because hognose snakes put EVERYTHING into their performance and I love them for it.

(they’re serious, they’ll do it! – image source)

((I’m actually going to stick the rest of this under a read-more, bc the pictures of the alive-and-physically-fine hognose snakes do kind of look like a legitimately-dead hognose snake, if you don’t know what to look for.

So, uh: cw for a snake being too good at pretending to be dead))

Behold: a series of completely healthy, unharmed snakes!!!

(to help with their self-esteem, we ask that you at least pretend to believe that they are dead – image sources 1, 2, 3, 4)

Honestly, the photos don’t do it justice. Here’s my favourite video of the whole wonderous performance:

undefined

youtube

But to review:

There's writhing! There's dramatic noises! There's flipping onto their back and opening their mouth wide and letting their tongue hang out! There's excreting a combination of intentionally smelly substances!!! Truly a master of the art of being left the hell alone (*^▽^*)

(yep. deeeeefinitely dead. not just faking it. nothing worth eating here! – image source)

Personally, my favourite part of this is how they insist on rolling onto their back, even when they are rolled back onto their stomach.

Seriously, if you try to roll them right-side-up, they will flip back over. It's as though they believe that a good, proper dead snek MUST be on its back, obviously.

(truly fearsome – image source)

Sadly, the hognose snake may have made itself too scary, according to humans.

Out of fear, these snakes are commonly killed on sight 😔. I once heard someone proudly brag about how they’d killed a dozen cobras! In southern Ontario! Where cobras do not live! This is both extremely frustrating and deeply sad.

(safe enough to hold! although maybe don’t, just because this snake IS probably experiencing mortal fear, which is not a good feeling – image source © Dean Stavrides)

So just to highlight: hognose snakes are completely harmless. They’re just pretending to be fearsome!

(not that people should be killing venomous snakes either, imo. Let the danger noodles LIVE THEIR LIVES)

(i is baybee, pls do not hurt me – image source)

And now some bonus facts to help raise us out of that downer:

Hognose snakes are toad specialists! Their favourite food is toads, which is unusual, because toads are poisonous. Hognose snakes deal with this by force of will and also, at least two amino acid substitutions, maybe (Mohammadi et al. 2016). Possibly a few other things help with this, also (Feldman et al. 2016).

(is snek eat toad? or does toad wearing cape of snek? impossible to tell, really – image source)

Also, I have a confession: hognose snakes... are venomous. Technically.

(itty bitty little fangs at the veeeeery back of their mouth! – image source)

They are known as rear-fanged snakes, which means they have fangs aaaall the way at the back of their mouth. The venom they produce seems to be toad-specific, and is considered to be harmless to humans unless you happen to have an allergy but that's the exception rather than the rule

(the two hognose species. They are both baybee, but in different ways actually there might be more than two species but these are the two i’ve actually learned about so ALL WELL – image source)

Also, hognose snakes are big cowards NOT aggressive and I've never even heard of anyone getting bit by a one (outside of one feeding mishap, which we can all agree was an ACCIDENT).

The series of events that would need to occur for you to be envenomated are so unlikely and bizarre that I assume you would have to be TRYING to get bit.

This has been Fun Fact Friday, bringing you the forbidden noodly boys to try and keep them a little more safe!

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

Sources, because I know me and SO DO YOU:

Averill-Murray, R. C. (2006). Natural history of the western hog-nosed snake (Heterodon nasicus) with notes on envenomation. Sonoran Herpetologist, 19(9), 98-101.

Buchanan, Scott W.; Timm, Brad C.; Cook, Robert P.; Couse, Richard; Hazard, Lisa C. (2017). Spatial ecology and habitat selection of eastern hognose snakes. The Journal of Wildlife Management, 81(3), 509–520. doi:10.1002/jwmg.21218

CHS: Canadian Herpetological Society https://canadianherpetology.ca/species/species_page.html?cname=Eastern%20Hog-nosed%20Snake

COSEWIC. 2021. COSEWIC assessment and status report on the Eastern Hog-nosed Snake Heterodon platirhinos in Canada. Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada. Ottawa. xi + 45 pp. https://www.canada.ca/en/environment-climate-change/services/species-risk-public-registry/cosewic-assessments-status-reports/eastern-hog-nosed-snake-2021.html

Cunnington, G. M., & Cebek, J. E. (2005). Mating and nesting behavior of the eastern hognose snake (Heterodon platirhinos) in the northern portion of its range. The American midland naturalist, 154(2), 474-478.

Feldman, C. R., Durso, A. M., Hanifin, C. T., Pfrender, M. E., Ducey, P. K., Stokes, A. N., ... & Brodie Jr, E. D. (2016). Is there more than one way to skin a newt? Convergent toxin resistance in snakes is not due to a common genetic mechanism. Heredity, 116(1), 84-91.

Jared, C., Luiz Mailho‐Fontana, P., & Maria Antoniazzi, M. (2021). Differences between poison and venom: An attempt at an integrative biological approach. Acta Zoologica, 102(4), 337-350.

Liu, C., Chen, Y., Zheng, Y., Bo, J., Yang, C., Xu, S., & Zhang, S. (2022). Wear Resistance Improvement of Keeled Structure and Overlapped Distribution of Snake Scales. Journal of Bionic Engineering, 1-11. Citing abstract.

Mohammadi, S., Gompert, Z., Gonzalez, J., Takeuchi, H., Mori, A., & Savitzky, A. H. (2016). Toxin-resistant isoforms of Na+/K+-ATPase in snakes do not closely track dietary specialization on toads. Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 283(1842), 20162111.

Nature Conservancy of Canada: https://www.natureconservancy.ca/en/what-we-do/resource-centre/featured-species/reptiles-and-amphibians/eastern-hog-nosed-snake.html

Plummer, M. V., & Mills, N. E. (1996). Observations on trailing and mating behaviors in hognose snakes (Heterodon platirhinos). Journal of Herpetology, 30(1), 80-82.

Rouse, Jeremy D.; Willson, Robert J.; Black, Ron; Brooks, Ronald J. (2011). Movement and Spatial Dispersion of Sistrurus catenatus and Heterodon platirhinos: Implications for Interactions with Roads. Copeia, 2011(3), 443–456. doi:10.1643/ce-09-036

Seburn, D. 2008. Recovery Strategy for the Eastern Hog-nosed Snake (Heterodon platirhinos) in Canada. Species at Risk Act Recovery Strategy Series. Parks Canada Agency, Ottawa. vi + 24pp.

Schwartz, V. & D. Golden (2002). Field Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians of New Jersey. New Jersey Division of Fish and Wildlife

VHS: Virginia herpetological society http://www.virginiaherpetologicalsociety.com/reptiles/snakes/eastern-hog-nosed-snake/eastern_hognose_snake.php#:~:text=Heterodon%20is%20derived%20from%20the%20Greek%20words%20heteros,meaning%20%22broad%20or%20flat%22%20and%20rhinos%20meaning%20%22snout%22

Young, R. A. (1992). Effects of Duvernoy's gland secretions from the eastern hognose snake, Heterodon platirhinos, on smooth muscle and neuromuscular junction. Toxicon, 30(7), 775-779. https://doi.org/10.1016/0041-0101(92)90013-U

Young, B. A., & Morain, M. (2003). Vertical burrowing in the Saharan sand vipers (Cerastes). Copeia, 2003(1), 131-137.

SARA: threatened https://www.canada.ca/en/environment-climate-change/services/species-risk-public-registry.html

1K notes · View notes

illusioninfnty · 6 months

Text

day 20 ; cock worship

↠ rafe cameron x reader

fandom: outer banks word count: 1.5k warnings: nsfw 18+, lots of dirty talk, mean!rafe, degradation, intoxicated sex, blowjob, possessiveness, maybe ooc rafe bc i have not actually seen the show

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

It was no secret to your closest friends that whenever you drank at parties, you got really horny. Go figure that out of all of your insanely wild friends, you would be the one who gets utterly humiliated by grinding up on random people. It was why you always volunteered to be the designated driver. Yet you couldn’t help but admit that the payoff was sometimes worth it.

But of course, one can never say no to Rafe Cameron. Your boyfriend had yet to see what you were like when you were drunk, and that only happened once he convinced one of your friends to steal your keys and give you more than a single drink.

“You taste so good, baby,” you whisper in Rafe’s ear, craning your neck to reach. The party at Topper’s house was probably at its peak, people from all over the island swarming the house in droves. But you don’t care about anyone else right now. You press sloppy kisses on your boyfriend’s neck, sucking hickeys in certain spots. Your hands run down his sides, stopping at his ass to give it a squeeze.

It was clear that your boyfriend also had quite a bit to drink, his cheeks were flushed and his always tense body had relaxed ever so slightly.

As your kisses get more heated and you begin to grind on him, Rafe raises an eyebrow and looks down at you, removing your wandering hands from his bottom and placing them higher on his waist.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Your hands turn their focus to his chest, caressing it, and you look up at him with slow blinks as a sly smirk crosses your face.

“Hopefully you, later.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow at your comment, and he lets out a faint laugh. He pushes against you until your body is up against a kitchen cabinet away from most of the other party guests.

“You're acting like a little slut today, aren’t you?” He grasps you by the chin, forcing your gaze onto him. With his other hand he presses into your hip bone, forcing them to still. You whine at the loss of contact.

Perceptive as ever, Rafe notices your problem and sighs mockingly. “Guess I’m gonna have to treat you like one too.”

He pulls you out of the kitchen and up the staircase, ignoring the hoots and hollers of those who notice you two leaving.

He tugs you into the first room you come across—a bedroom, no surprise. It’s definitely not Topper's; the setup and color scheme is a simple pale beige, much too classy for a guy like him.

Rafe shuts the door behind you as you go to grab his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He stops you, grasping the back of your head to restrain you.

“Baby,” you draw out as you lock your fingers behind his neck. “Let me make you feel good.” He shakes his head at your failed attempt to appease him.

“If you really want to make me feel good, then get on your knees.”

You eagerly comply.

Now eye level with his crotch, you can see the tent that was straining against his shorts. Without being prompted to, you push him down onto the bed as you begin to undo the button and zip on his cargo shorts and tear down his boxers. His hard cock bounces from its confines and you grasp it, practically drooling at the sight. Precum is already beading at the head, and you press a finger to it, pulling away to see it follow you in a long strand. Rafe moves his hand to the back of your head, guiding your motions.

“I’ve missed your cock,” you moan out. You trail kisses up and down the length, mimicking what you were doing to your boyfriend’s neck just minutes ago. Rafe hisses above you with the sudden contact, and you squeeze him ever so slightly. Your other hand trails to his balls, fondling them. “I’ve been missing these, too.”

Rafe’s hips jerk involuntarily. “Fuck baby, you’re always so good to me. You love my cock, don’t you?” As you glance up at him, you see that his eyes are already on you. They darken as they meet your own, and you could feel your cheeks heating up with the intensity of his stare. The sight of your boyfriend’s enjoyment makes you only want to pleasure him harder.

“I do,” you coo, giving the head of his cock a single, long lick, flattening your tongue on the surface. He groans and the grip he has on your hair tightens.

The sensation has your heart racing, and you moan loudly against Rafe’s cock, catching his attention. He sneers at you from above.

“I bet you’re fucking soaked down there, huh? Am I gonna feel your pussy all wet if I stick my fingers in it?”

Your pussy throbs at his demeaning words, begging for attention. But all that matters to you right now is Rafe, so you hum in agreement at his words and focus on his length.

“Don’t care about that right now.” Your words begin to slur, practically cock drunk as you nuzzle into him. “Only care about you.”

That sends him into a spiral. His nostrils flare and he slaps his cock against your cheek, keeping your head in place.

You chase his warmth, hands touching whatever they can with your limited sight. His balls feel heavy in your hand, and you so desperately wished that Rafe would let you do more than just touch.

He pulls you away from his cock and tilts your head up. He’s panting as much as you are, the red in his cheeks harsher than before. His arousal practically mirrors your own, and the thought of how much he wanted you in that moment makes your body ache all over.

“Get to sucking, slut.”

Your wish is finally granted and you enthusiastically swallow his cock, gagging on the long shaft in the process. Your throat burns and your eyes water, but all you can think about is the heaviness of it on your tongue, the salty precum coating the inside of your mouth. Your vision goes blurry from the tears that leave your eyes yet you can only moan at the feeling of it.

“Feel so good, babe.” Rafe’s praise is surprising and it causes you to suck him harder, taking him deeper into your throat. He hisses at the sensation. “This mouth was made for me. It’s all mine, right?”

You release him with a pop to answer him. “Only yours, Rafe.”

His eyes narrow and a dark chuckle leaves his lips. “Say it again.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your pussy aches with need. You thrust in the air against nothing, silently begging for some sort of release. Rafe’s words stir up carnal need within you.

“Only yours!”

“Better fucking be.”

He jerks his hips back up and you take him in your mouth again. You bob up and down his shaft furiously, desperate to give him some pleasure. The remaining length that doesn’t fit in your mouth is taken into your hands, fondled and stroked as your full attention remains on his cock.

There isn’t a single part of Rafe that isn’t being worshiped by you. Drool leaves your mouth as you hum against his cock, refusing to let it go. It feels hot in your mouth and you try to take it even deeper, your gag reflex mildly suppressed by the amount of times you’ve already tried this with him.

“Fuck yeah,” he jeered. “My little cock whore has to get her whole fill, ain’t that right?”

You whimper instinctually, the possessive growl in his voice practically making a puddle form beneath you. Rafe’s words egg you on and you take him all the way to the base, nose hitting his pubic hair. You can feel him twitching, nearing his end and that only makes you work harder. You move your head even faster, swirling your tongue all along his length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Rafe pulls you off of his cock as his cum releases all over you, the sticky liquid splashing onto your face and dripping down your chest. You sweep a finger across some that landed on your cheek and put it in your mouth, swirling it around. The taste is so familiar, so him. You moan at it, smiling up at him. You relish in the sensation of him all over you.

Rafe leans back panting with a matching grin. His pupils are dilated and his cheeks are flushed; if he looks like that, you don’t even want to imagine the shape that you’re in right now. He caresses the back of your head and you nuzzle into his thigh, mumbling an I love you that you’re not quite sure he hears.

Rafe’s eyes gleam as he smirks down at you.

“God damn, babe. You gotta start drinking more at parties.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron smut

684 notes · View notes

katyswrites · 28 days

Text

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol use, recreational weed use, descriptions of puking/hangovers, no use of y/n, not quite smut but we're getting close folks

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 3

You don’t see Steve for nearly a week after that - you hang around the radio station quite a bit, as you usually do, but never manage to run into him. You should be thankful for that - for how peaceful it is. It’s not even like you want to see him - no, why would you? He’s a pain in your ass, and you should be thankful that you can do your job in peace.

No, it’s not actually at the station that you see him next - though, it’s tangentially related. You’re at perhaps your second-favorite place in the world - Varsity Vinyl, the local record shop downtown. It has some of the best selection you’d seen, and you always find yourself there - buying for your own growing record collection, or rooting through the used and discounted bin to help stock the station’s vinyl library. It’s where you find yourself on a Saturday afternoon, flipping through records while figuring how much money you actually realistically are able to spend.

You don’t see him, not at first. He’s standing further down the aisle, and when you finally look up and spot him, you nearly jump - he’s just staring at you, eyes wide. You straighten up, just holding eye contact - you feel like two wild animals sizing each other up, deciding whether to run or fight. You’re truly deciding between those two options when he clears his throat.

“Oh - uh, hey,” he says, quieter than you had expected.

“Hey.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, a beat of silence passing between you. Then, you both find yourselves speaking at once:

“Your party was fun the other night -”

“Are you okay -”

You both pause, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Sorry, uh - the party was fun last weekend. Thanks,” you say quietly.

Steve shrugs.

“Oh, yeah - glad you came. You… you seemed like you were having a good time.”

Like I made an absolute fool of yourself, more like, you think to yourself.

“Oh! I mean - I guess. Sorry if I got a little - uh -”

“It’s fine, don’t worry - we’ve had worse,” Steve assures.

He hasn’t said anything about bringing you home. Part of you is convinced that Eddie was misinformed, and Steve didn’t actually bring you home that night - that is, if it wasn’t for that stupid note. The note you probably should have thrown out, but stuck into a desk drawer instead - to refer to later, just to make sure you weren’t crazy, you had reasoned.

But now, Steve is standing in front of you, more quiet and withdrawn than you’ve ever seen in the past four years of knowing him.

“So, uh - thanks,” you say quickly, almost mumbling.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“For, um, getting me home safe - I don’t really remember it, but -”

He waves you off. “Oh, that - don’t worry about it. The hardest part was getting you to tell me your address,” he says, laughing. “You were wasted.”

You groan. “That’s…embarrassing.”

He smirks. “Honestly, yeah, a little bit. But most people were gone by then, so… your secret’s safe with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I mean - I’m surprised you didn’t tell everybody - how I was, you know, throwing up all over your apartment, being a drunk idiot -”

Why didn’t he? It’s leverage - a way to make people lose respect for you, and gain more for him. A part of this stupid, pointless power battle you two seem to always be involved in, seeing how far you can push one another. His response is unexpected.

“You don’t actually think that little of me, do you?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

He scoffs. “Look, it’s not my fault that you can’t hold your alcohol for shit. But, I’m not going to go around telling everyone that, okay? Christ -”

He trails off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re welcome, though.”

You suddenly feel like a bit of an asshole - Steve is used to you throwing insults his way, but this time, it seems to have struck a chord with him.

“I was in a really bad way, wasn’t I?” you ask quietly, avoiding eye contact.

He nods. “Honestly? Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. You really don’t remember?”

You shake your head, face feeling flushed with embarrassment. He just sighs.

“What do you remember?”

You rack your brain for a moment, biting your lip absentmindedly as you think.

“Um - I remember playing Kings with everyone… and, uh…”

I remember you coming in from the porch with what’s-her-face on your arm -

“-and it gets fuzzy after that,” you say quickly.

“Oh, okay - wow, that’s pretty early on. Well, you did some shots with Eddie and Robin - you got on the kitchen table at one point ... I think you threw up over my balcony… and after that I, uh, hung out with you in the bathroom while you threw up some more, and brought you home.”

You freeze. “Wait - you babysat me, like, the whole time? I thought that was Eddie -”

“No way, Eddie was too high to help anyone. I was stone-cold sober by that point, thanks to you.”

“Oh,” you say, wishing you could sink into the floor. Steve fucking Harrington knew what you looked like keeled over a toilet and puking your guts out… dammit.

“It was pretty gnarly, but… it’s fine. Really, it’s okay.”

For maybe the first time in his life, it sounds like Steve is being sincere with you. Another beat of silence passes, then he’s clearing his throat again.

“So… you have any big plans tonight? A repeat of last weekend, maybe?” he asks casually. You furrow your brow, confused.

“Um - do you actually care?”

He shrugs. “So what if I do?”

“Well - no, after last weekend I’m not sure if I ever want to drink again -”

“The most famous lie ever told,” he cuts in, grinning. You just roll your eyes, and pretend to be interested in perusing the records as you return to flipping through the crates.

“-but it just so happens that I do have plans tonight,” you say quietly.

“Hot date?”

You scoff. “I’m going to Fuze Box. Nancy’s covering some bands for an article for the campus paper, and I figured I’d check out who's playing tonight.”

WAMC has a long-standing relationship with Fuze Box, a small music venue for local artists and college bands. A lot of students and station members play there, and shows at the Box get advertised a lot on the air. You try to go to local gigs as much as you can - though, you haven’t made as much of an effort lately, too overwhelmed by other responsibilities as station manager. Nancy’s article is a good excuse to go, for the first time all semester.

“So, you don’t know any of the bands playing tonight?” he asks, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

You shake your head. “Nope - just figured I’d check it out, go in blind. Maybe I’ll even put some of the bands in my radio slot next week, if they’re selling CDs or something.”

Steve grins mischievously.

“Right - well, have fun, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, and know that any semblance of an awkward peace between you two is gone - the Steve you know and love (to hate) is back. You turn to make a clever retort, but he’s gone, having stalked off to a different aisle.

You’re not sure what he’s up to, but part of you now has a sneaking suspicion that he might show up at the venue tonight just to piss you off - it’s such a Steve move.

As you go to the checkout, you do your best to shake it - after all, what’s the worst that can happen?

*****

“Thank you - we’ve been Lime of Decision - goodnight!” the lead singer shouts, a collection of hollers and applause following. The lights go up a bit, some venue staff coming out to the stage to adjust the equipment for the next band.

“Lime Of Decision is… a choice,” Nancy says, scribbling something into her notebook.

“Yeah, that’s because their name is literally meant to be a joke,” you say absentmindedly.

“What?”

“Jason, the lead singer? His ex-girlfriend is in a band called Lemon Of Choice, so it’s like…funny. I think.”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Which band is better?”

“Definitely hers,” you say immediately.

You and Nancy both stare at each other for a moment, and break into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to get another drink, you want anything?” she asks.

You shake your head, holding up the cup of beer you’re still nursing from the beginning of the last band’s set.

She disappears into the crowd, and you sigh, taking a drink as you once again survey the room. If Steve actually is here, you haven’t spotted him yet - maybe he decided that getting on your nerves wasn’t worth actually paying the cover at the door. Or, maybe he actually had more important plans - maybe even with that girl he was all cozy with at the party -

You stop yourself - why do you care? If anything, it should be a good thing that he doesn’t seem to be here.

There’s two more bands left to go - you had glanced at the flier on the way in, but only recognized Lime Of Decision in the lineup. So, when Nancy returns with a new drink and the lights begin to dim again, you just hope the next band is better - it can really be hit or miss at these sorts of shows.

Darius, the radio station’s tech engineer, is emceeing the show. He steps out on stage to introduce the next band, earning a smattering of cheers and hollers thrown in his direction.

“Alright, alright everyone! Settle down - that includes you, Hagan - Jesus Christ, okay - can we give it up for the amazing bands we’ve heard so far tonight?”

You clap along with the rest of the crowd, rolling our eyes at the sound of particularly rowdy hollers from the back that you just know comes from Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin.

Darius’ eyes narrow.

“Dammit, Munson - when I said a month-long ban, I meant it -”

You glance back to see Eddie flipping Darius off - famously, Corroded Coffin got a temporary suspension from Fuze Box for smoking weed in the green room. But, the ban actually being enforced… not likely.

Darius rolls his eyes, struggling to get the room back on track as he taps the microphone.

“Okay, okay - everyone, can we please - if you all can shut the fuck up - okay, whatever. The next band up tonight - you guys know and love. They’re a Fuze Box favorite - and no, they are not promising anything with the name. Give it up for Free Beer!

You can’t help but laugh at the band’s name - you instinctively turn to Nancy, who is doing her best to stifle a giggle as she writes something on her notepad, squinting in the dark.

It’s during those few seconds while you’re looking away that the band takes the stage - which is why, when you glance back, you freeze as you see who’s standing front-and-center.

Steve stands at the mic stand, an electric guitar slung over his shoulders as he smiles at the crowd.

You freeze. Other band members - including Robin and Argyle, who you know all too well from the radio station - come out onto the stage behind him. But you’re just staring at Steve, dumbfounded.

You knew he had a band - scheduling them to perform on the air was always a nightmare for you, which you knew Steve did on purpose. So, you had never learned anything about them on-principle. You hadn’t heard a lick of music, didn’t know who else was in it, or even the goddamn name - until right now.

Nancy’s eyes are on you, you can feel it. You turn briefly to look at her.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, glancing at where Steve stands on stage. You shake your head.

“God, no! I - I’m an adult, I can be in the same room as Harrington,” you say, laughing nervously. You’re not sure how much you believe yourself. She stares at you for a moment, then just nods, turning her attention back to the stage, where Steve is stepping up to the mic.

“Hey guys - we’re Free Beer. I’m Steve -”

A few feminine voices cheer from the back. Your eyes roll so far to the back of your head that you’re worried you’ll go blind.

“Thanks, ladies, love the enthusiasm. So - let’s just get into it. Ready to hear some songs?”

There’s an eruption of cheers through the audience - one of the biggest reactions of the night so far.

“Alright - this one is called ‘Closer,’ I hope you enjoy.”

From the moment he plays the first chord, something shifts in the room. The crowd becomes less rowdy, less chatty. No - everyone is really listening. Some are even singing along - how the fuck do this many people know the words?

You want to hate it - you want the set to be something you’re tolerating, something that makes you look forward to the next band coming out. But, despite your efforts, that’s not what happens. Because the band is good. Robin is killer on bass, and Argyle is a formidable drummer, despite his perpetually laid-back persona. And Steve - it’s like he was born to do this.

Aside from having a pretty good voice, and being an excellent guitarist, he’s actually a good frontman. He’s charismatic, knows how to work the crowd, and somehow, he makes the tiny stage of the Fuze Box feel as exciting as Live Aid.

You want to scream - of course he’s good. You catch yourself moving along to the music every now and then, and immediately stop yourself, hoping nobody sees. At one point, you swear Steve sees you. His eyes land on yours - or, at least, in your direction. You think you imagine it - it’s a big enough crowd, and you’re far enough back that he probably can’t see past the first few rows. That is, until he smirks, in the way that you know he reserves only to taunt you, to challenge you.

Fuck.

*****

You find yourself heading down the hallway after Steve’s set - you’re looking for the bathroom, shouldering through the bodies packed into the narrow passage. Part of it is because your beer has finally gone through you, and more so because you need a minute of peace and quiet, just to stare at yourself in the mirror and talk some sense into yourself. Steve’s band can’t be good - that would be a problem. If you didn’t know who was part of it, they’re the kind of band you would buy records for, keep a spare CD in your car, and even include as part of your radio show. But…it's Steve.

You had purposely never gone to any of his shows - you never listened to any in-studio sessions they did at the station, and God knows you would never ask Steve about his music. What the fuck?

Part of you also wants to smack him - of course he was performing here tonight - he looked you in the eye at the record store today, heard you were coming here tonight, and said nothing. Next time you see him, you decide, you’ll ignore him - you won’t even acknowledge that you saw him perform. If he asks, you’ll tell him you left the show early, long before he came on stage. You won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking you sat through his whole set, let alone enjoyed it.

You can’t exactly remember where the bathroom is - was it all the way at the end of the hallway? None of the doors are really labeled, which tracks for Fuze Box.

You knock on a few doors and jiggle the handles - one is an electrical closet, the other is locked and seemingly empty. You finally reach a door at the end, and give it a gentle knock - nobody responds. You try the knob, and it gives way. After shouldering your way inside, you wish you hadn’t.

Apparently, instead of the bathroom, you’ve managed to find the green room - although, to call the backstage area of the Fuze Box a green room is generous. It’s really a tiny room with a worn out couch, a cracked glass coffee table littered with ashtrays, and lighting so dim that you have to squint to figure out exactly where you are as you slip through the door.

It’s only once you’re inside, when it’s too late, that you realize you’ve walked in on Steve.

His back is turned to you, but he jumps slightly and turns when he hears the door open. He’s wiping his brow with a towel, and he grins when he sees you.

“Hey, sweetheart - wasn’t expecting to see you back here.”

You stand in the doorway awkwardly - why couldn’t the rest of his band be hanging out here with him? That way, you could throw out a blanket ‘you guys were great’ statement. But now it’s just him, staring at you, his face saying why the fuck are you here?

“Oh - sorry - I’m in the wrong room,” you say quickly, your face feeling hot as you start to back away.

“Okay - sure you are,” Steve says sarcastically.

“What does that mean?” you ask, stopping your retreat.

He shrugs. “Don’t know - you just seem to always conveniently stumble into me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Try to stop me.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you just groan with frustration, taking a few steps towards him.

“Jesus, I - I don’t know if it’s like, a weird sick game to you, or you’re just always trying to piss me off - or if you just can’t help and flirt with everyone -”

“You think I’m flirting with you?” he asks, grinning mischievously.

You stop, folding your arms in indignation.

“No - I mean, kind of, but probably as a joke - I know what you’re up to, Harrington.”

“And what exactly am I up to?”

“This bullshit you keep pulling,” you say, gesturing between you two. “This - like, always sabotaging my shit, and getting in my way - but then like, this stupid nice-guy thing, where you drive me home when I’m drunk and don’t tell anyone, but then like you trick me into watching your stupid band perform -”

He scoffs. “Trick you? Be serious -”

“You knew I’d be here tonight - you knew, and didn’t say anything -”

“Well given your track record, sweetheart, if you had known I’d be playing, I’m sure you would’ve been front row!”

You stop mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as you try to search inwardly for a reply. Your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He’s smirking now, just like he did on stage. As always, he’s too confident, too sarcastic, too Steve. He’s taken away your ability to even come up with a halfway decent retort. It pisses you off.

“I - that’s not -”

Your blood is rushing to your head, roaring in your ears, too enraged to even let you think straight anymore. You’re marching right up to him now, prodding his chest with your finger.

“I don’t like you,” you say.

“You don’t say?” he drawls, still smiling. Why is he smiling?

“Stop doing that -”

“Doing what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Stop distracting me -”

“I distract you?”

You want to kick yourself.

“I - well - only because you’re so -”

“Devilishly handsome?”

“-fucking annoying.”

He cocks his head, like you’ve only mildly piqued his curiosity instead of insulted him.

You sigh. “What?”

“It’s just - you didn’t seem to find me very annoying last weekend when you tried to kiss me.”

A beat. You just stand there, jaw agape as his words hang in the air between you like smoke on a hazy summer’s day.

“That’s not funny,” you manage to say.

“Does it look like I’m laughing?”

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him - the next band has started outside, a distant din that should be distracting. But all you can focus on is Steve - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way you’re close enough to smell that he had just had a cigarette.

“I didn’t -”

“Sweetheart - right before you puked your guts up in my bathroom, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat. Don’t worry - I didn’t let you. I really thought you would’ve remembered, until I saw you in the record store - then I realized you didn’t remember jack shit.”

You feel like you’re making this up. He’s just saying this to get under your skin - he must be. It’s the only explanation. Because you’d never -

“You’re lying.”

But he’s just staring at you, and you’re starting to get the sickening suspicion that this isn’t a joke.

“You’re lying,” you repeat, though it sounds more like a question this time.

He’s taking another step towards you, shaking his head.

“You know what they say, sweetheart - in vino vesco, or whatever. You know - how people say and do what they’re really thinking when they’re drunk -”

“Veritas.”

He stops, furrowing his brow.

“I - what?”

You can’t help yourself - you just can’t.

“The phrase is in vino veritas - it means truth. I think vesco means food or something, you’re missing the whole -”

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re always such a -”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you’re kissing him. You don’t mean to do it, you swear - but he had gotten so close, the heat radiating off of him too much to ignore. And, he was really pissing you off - you didn’t need to hear another word out of his mouth.

You fist your hands in his t-shirt, your lips on his, messy and desperate, like you’re trying to prove a point. And he’s kissing you back.

Steve kisses the same way he argues - he’s aggressive, his hands coming up to grab your face and pull you closer. He tastes like cigarettes and cheap beer, his aura hot and desperate as it envelops you.

The band plays out in the venue, the audience cheering and singing along - but, all you can hear is Steve’s labored breath against your lips, your own heart thudding in your chest.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, another argument you were both desperate to win. But, right now, you’re losing. Because he’s guiding your body, and you’re responding, stepping backwards until your back is hitting the cinderblock wall.

No words are spoken, just breathy moans and the sounds of your lips moving in unison. It’s not remotely romantic - it feels more like fuck you, I’m trying so hard to hate you, why can’t you let me -

One of his hands has traveled down to your waist, gripping it firmly enough to tell you that he wanted more. You feel his hand start to move, slipping under the hem of your shirt and gently brushing the warm skin of your lower back. His hands are calloused, rough against the softness of your skin. You let him start to explore, unable to stop yourself from quietly moaning against his lips.

You know you should stop - but you can’t. It’s addicting, the way he’s still fighting with you as his tongue enters your mouth. Is this really happening? Maybe this could’ve gone on for hours. That is, until -

The knock on the door makes you both jump, pulling apart as quickly as you had crashed together. Steve is staring at you, breathing heavily, his pupils blown and lips a bit swollen. You imagine you look similarly. He takes a step back, separately himself from where you’re still frozen against the wall.

“Yeah?” Steve calls, voice rougher than before.

“Are you decent?” a voice asks from the other side of the door, barely audible over the sound of the band currently on stage.

Steve looks like he’s fighting laughter, but he just shakes his head, back facing the doorway.

“Nope - you’re good,” he says, his eyes meeting yours again.

He doesn’t need to say it - the look he’s shooting your way is enough.

Not a word.

Robin enters, grinning.

“Hey, we were just going to - oh, hi.”

She’s spotted you, and you just know she has questions.

“Hey, Robin,” you say quietly. “I, uh - I was looking for the bathroom. Ended up in here - I was just telling Steve how much I liked your set.”

Robin beams. “Thanks! It’s fun to see that you came out - haven’t seen you at a gig in a while!”

You nod. “Oh, yeah - I’ve been trying to get myself out there more -”

Steve scoffs, and you want to slap him. If Robin notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“- but, um - I should go.”

Robin nods.

“Yeah - I was just coming to find Steve, we’re all going to head to WT’s for a drink - uh, do you want to come?”

She’s probably just being polite. But, you shake your head vigorously.

“No, I’m good - sounds like it’s a band thing. I should get going anyway - I’ll catch the end of this set,” you say, gesturing towards the sound of the band on stage echoing from down the hall. You still haven’t made eye contact with Steve, not since Robin entered the room. So, you just give her a curt nod, and do everything in your power to head out the door without looking like you’re bolting. You’re screwed.

author's note: thanks for your patience y'all! I'm going away to Ireland on a work trip for about 3 weeks starting tomorrow, so I'm hoping to do some writing while I'm there, but no promises! As always, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

295 notes · View notes

emelinstriker · 7 months

Text

{Eternal Servants AU} Wukong & Macaque ♡ Obedience

Art drawn by me + the OC is mine... Also the mentioned OCs and the AU itself.

My LMK AU's first ever fic, lezgooo- :D

This one's mainly just showing off the relationship between the monkeys as well as the Reader. The AU actually does feature some input from that one OC group of mine, even if they mostly operate in the background. Some of them do occasionally show up. It wouldn't be one of my universes if they had no input since they're all connected by this group of individuals... A good example would be CM from Castle's Pet, if any of my ancient old Quotev/Wattpad Undertale X Reader fans are reading this.

[TL;DR] Just your monkeys being wholesome while murdering another demon.

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

Seated on your throne, you sighed as you waited for your purple champion's return. You sent out Macaque to retrieve an ancient artifact a demon stole from your palace's storage. Usually it wouldn't take him long to hunt someone down. After all, he was used to tracking down any that would oppose you and would bring them to justice. However, something must've happened since he obviously wasn't back yet. This was highly unusual for either one of your champions.

'Did he get into an accident?', you thought to yourself, now getting worried.

Your blue champion seemed to notice your sudden change in mood. He didn't even need to feel it through your eternal bond, he could just tell by looking at your concerned expression. He leaned down a bit as he obediently stood next to your throne, looking at you with his void black eyes. "Master, is something bothering you?"

You turned your head a bit to look at him. "It's just... Where's Macaque?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not sure whether or not he's still occupied with the thief." He responded flatly with little to no emotion. You hummed in thought for a moment before you turned to face him again.

"Wukong, I want you to check up on your brother... Help him if he needs help, but at least just make sure he's not hurt or anything." You said firmly. The monkey in blue moved in front of you and bowed.

"As you wish, Master."

And with that, he summoned his somersault cloud and hopped onto it before swiftly flying off into the direction of where his sworn brother left to hunt down the thief.

Across the land, a giant smoke monster could be seen fighting a giant demon in green and black. It seemed like a tough battle as the demon the monster was fighting was very aggressive and wild in its attacks. When suddenly, a blunt hit to the back of the green and black demon slammed the demon in green and black face-first into the ground of the clearing they were fighting in. Its body created a giant crater. It was still alive, but just barely as it laid there motionless. It seemed like the battle already weakened it and the blow to the back was too much for it to handle.

The simian piloting the giant smoke monster panted a bit from exhaustion as he smiled darkly at the fallen demon. But then he turned towards the direction of his ginger-furred brother, who was standing on his cloud with crossed arms, and huffed. "Thanks, but I could've taken him down on my own. It just would've taken a bit."

"Master told me to make sure you weren't hurt." Wukong stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

Macaque's smile turned from maniac to apologetic as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, with his giant smoke avatar mirroring his motion. "Oh man, did I take too long again? I didn't mean to make them worry... I just kinda got caught up with stopping the thief. He used the artifact he stole and it turned him into a feral titan." He added as the giant smoke monster gestured towards the other demon on the ground. That's when the monkey on the cloud quickly zoomed down towards the unconscious demon's body. It took him a few seconds, but he quickly spotted the artifact hanging from the titan's satchel. After he took it away from the giant demon, the demon's body seemingly shrunk back to its original size, still unconscious in the ginormous crater. The simian carefully held onto the artifact, as to not accidentally trigger its power, before his cloud flew back to his sworn brother. After Macaque saw the other demon's now normal-sized body, his smoke monster avatar disappeared around him as he stretched with his feet now touching the ground again.

He grinned at the ginger-furred monkey, seeing him hold the artifact the thief stole. "Guess now we also know what thing does... Did Master say anything about wanting us to kill the guy, or to place him in the punishment wing?"

Wukong shook his head in response, his face still not holding any emotion. Macaque sighed. "Well, damn... But I guess we might as well end him now than risk having him try to steal again, right?" He chuckled as he slowly walked towards the unconscious demon's body. The dark-furred monkey gave the demon a wicked grin, not expecting a response as he summoned his shadow staff. "Nothing personal, dude. Just making sure our beloved Master is forever safe and comfortable! Any who are at risk of opposing them in any way must be eliminated..."

And with that, he smashed his staff's thorny end down onto the demon's head, ending his life with one last strike. Wukong just gave the corpse a bored look before he uncrossed his arms. "Do you need a ride back?" The Monkey King asked, referring to Macaque's exhaustion after battle. He could just help the other monkey relax and calm down with his somersault cloud, after all.

However, Macaque just waved his hand dismissively as he took a deep breath. "Nah, but thanks. I'm a bit tired, but not enough to stop me from using my powers. Do you want a ride back though?" He grinned before he summoned a shadow portal on the ground next to himself. Wukong's mouth just faintly twitches upwards for a split second, but it was enough to make his the dark-furred simian chuckle in repsonse. "C'mooon, bud~ We both know my method's faster! Just hop in already!" If Wukong's eyes weren't like a fully black void, his playful eyeroll would've been very much noticeable. He hopped off his cloud, letting it disappear as he approached the portal, straight up jumping into it. Macaque soon followed after, closing the portal once he went through.

On the other side, you anxiously waited on your throne. While you didn't think any of your regular servants would harm you, you still felt a bit uncomfortable without at least one of your champions around. After all, a human ruling over an army of demons wasn't exactly a common thing demons respected. Only those who were already your servants in other lives would respect you fully... probably. And you had no recollection of any of your previous lives.

Your anxiety faded however once your two blue and purple champions emerged from a shadow portal in front of your throne. The sworn brothers didn't hesitate and kneeled upon seeing you.

"Apologies for the wait and for worrying you, Master. The thief ended up using the artifact and I ended up having to fight him to stop him." Macaque says, somewhat sounding ashamed of himself. He didn't like it whenever he didn't meet his Master's expectations. Even if something was out of his control.

You smiled softly as you leaned back. "It's fine, Mac-Mac. It was inevitable if that guy refused to face justice... I'm just glad you're alright and came back to me alive and well." The simian's frown turned into a bright smile as his tail swayed happily behind him. If you used that nickname for him, then he must've done everything right!

Afterwards, you smiled at your blue champion. "Thanks for finding him and taking him home again, Wu-Wu. Great job." You praised him. Now his tail was also swaying more happily. He nodded his head and grunted quietly in acknowledgement. Despite him not talking quite as much as his brother, and usually not showing emotions, you knew he was just as happy and content as your purple champion. His gentle tail sways were enough to understand.

The ginger-furred monkey then pulled out the artifact from underneath his cloaked side, still kneeling as he stared at you expectantly. "Shall I return this to the storage? The Archivist wanted to check on the items later today."

You scratched your head in thought for a moment as you hummed. "Guess that would be the best idea... If the Archivist shows up, then it's best if we have all the items that we borrowed... I don't wanna deal with his colleagues again, to be honest." You admitted, physically cringing a bit at the memory of your last encounter with the group the Archivist was involved in. They weren't happy when an eternal branding iron you used on your servants was stolen. Especially the Judge...

Wukong, knowing what you meant, nodded again as he stood up and bowed his head. "Of course, Master." Then he turned and walked away towards the palace's storage. Meanwhile, Macaque continued to smile brightly at you.

"Do you have another task for me to complete as well, Master?" He asked, eager to follow your every command like an obedient puppy. You hummed in thought again, but before you could respond, you heard the familiar voice of a certain mysterious figure in a black cloak and a fox-like mask...

"They do not. I have a task for you instead, Six-Eared Macaque."

The cloaked entity with the fox mask revealed himself as he walked out from behind your throne... When did he get here? Then again, he was one of the Archivist's colleagues, so you didn't question much anymore due to all they were able to do... You raised a suspicious eyebrow at the masked entity as you spoke. "...What task?" Those cloaked beings weren't to be trusted with how they operated. And while the Oracle usually spoke of the truth and was one of the more gentle-sounding members, you could never be sure whether or not there was malice behind anything their group did.

He responded in a blank tone, as if it were obvious. "The task involves going to the Underworld and retrieving the Scroll of Memory." Macaque visibly flinched slightly as one of his ears twitched at the mention of the Underworld, yet he avoided eye contact and remained quiet. The masked entity continued. "It's not the scroll itself that you might be interested in, but rather the curse that is bound to the scroll. That curse would be an extremely great addition to your palace's security." The entity added.

You grimaced a bit in thought, looking at him with uncertainty as you propped up your head on your hand. "Mhm... Are you sure this is worth it? Macaque isn't exactly fond of the Underworld, and I don't wanna make any of my servants, especially my champions, uncomfortable... Maybe Wukong could-" "NO!" Your purple champion suddenly cut you off as he looked at you, his void black eyes were wide open in panic, practically begging you to hear him out. He coughed awkwardly before bowing his head in a bit of shame and embarrassment for cutting you off.

"M-My apologies for interrupting you, Master... But I'd like to take on this mission myself, if I may." He said firmly, determination clear on his face as he tried to avoid this uncomfortable feeling of having to return to the Underworld. But he really wanted to prove himself worthy as one of your champions. He outwardly expressed his love and devotion towards you so much more than his sworn brother, and yet Wukong usually ended up getting more missions than him despite that.

You gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure? I know you don't like the Underworld after... Well, you know..."

He nodded his head without hesitation. "Yes, Master. Please let me retrieve that scroll for you."

After another short moment of uncertainty, you sighed in defeat. You stood up and moved towards your purple champion, petting his fluffy head. "Alright, fine... But if anything makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, I want you to just come back... Okay? I don't want you to get hurt, Mac-Mac. I'd rather have you here with me without that scroll than have the scroll without you." You said softly as you kissed his forehead. The dark-furred monkey blushed as his breath hitched at your touch and words.

That was all the motivation he needed.

His bright smile returned as he joyfully saluted. "Yes, Master! I'll make you proud!" You chuckled at his sudden eagerness. Almost immediately, a shadow portal opened up beneath the simian as he dropped into it, vanishing. Upon the closing of the portal, you raised an eyebrow at the Oracle.

"...Is this scroll really necessary?" You asked quietly, to which the entity silently nodded. You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"It's not just for your safety, Your Majesty. It's also required to garner enough attention for the future paths to be connected to the present path." He responded flatly, which confused you. But again, you didn't question his words due to his occupation. And soon enough, Wukong returned from the storage. The monkey in blue walked up to you and bowed, as if to say he had finished his task.

You petted him as well, also kissing his forehead with a little smile. "Good job, Wu-Wu." And just like his sworn brother, his tail started to sway in a happy daze as he blushed despite his still expressionless face. He clearly also loved it when you called him by that nickname. The Oracle, upon seeing the Monkey King return and being showered in affection, quickly bid you farewell for now as he still seemed to be busy with other matters. Meanwhile, you continued to pet the ginger-furred monkey, waiting for his brother again. You even decided to continue petting him while your were seated on your throne.

However, at some point while petting your blue champion, a thought crossed your mind...

"Wu-Wu... If your brother isn't back within the next three hours, I want you to go look for him in the Underworld... And help him out if need be." Wukong's eyes were closed as he leaned into your gentle, addictive touch, while his tail swayed slowly behind him. He simply nodded without opening his eyes.

"Understood, Master."

[ Masterlist ]

#lmk esau #eternal servants au #esau wukong #esau macaque #esau x reader #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk au #lego monkie kid au #sun wukong x reader #monkey king x reader #macaque x reader #wukong x reader #divine obelisk #emelin oc

472 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 8 months

Text

Rumours: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader

Tagging: @chickensrule @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @justameresimp @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond

You don’t know about the affair, not until Beau tells you.

Apparently, a couple of the graduates were off base one night and caught sight of their Vice Admiral in his civvies, leaving a restaurant with a woman in a little black dress. The heat in his gaze when he looked at her…

It’s clear they’re sleeping together.

There are other sightings. All of Beau with the same woman, all in compromising positions. Stolen kisses in doorways when it’s raining, his hand resting on her hip as he leads her from the theatre, whispering something salacious into her ear.

His poor wife, they say, sitting at home waiting for him while he’s out playing the field.

It’s at a retirement dinner for one of the Majors that the scuttlebutt reaches its peak. He’s seen leaving early with one of the JAG officers, a Lieutenant Commander, his hand on her lower back as he holds open the car door.

Beau doesn’t realise he’s a topic of conversation until Warlock approaches him. It’s becoming an issue, the other man tells him, you’re losing their respect.

Over what? he asks and then Warlock is forced to tell him.

He’s confused at first because not once in your entire relationship has ever he stepped out on you, the thought hasn’t even crossed his mind despite the deployments. He listens as Warlock recounts the events and he checks each one of them off in his head and he realises in every single occurrence the woman that he’s been seen with…

It's you.

It’s only when they bring Maverick in for a chat do they understand what’s happened.

There’s a lot of fresh faces on base and you’ve been deployed for over six months. They’ve all just assumed that his wife is the little lady that runs the house he lives in, like most of the other Vice Admiral’s wives. Never seen, never heard from. Just existing in the background.

It doesn’t help that you kept your maiden name when you married or the fact that Beau hates clutter, so he doesn’t keep so much as a picture on his desk. Why would he? He has them all on his phone.

You find the whole thing hilarious when he comes home and tells you that night. You’re sitting in front of the coffee table, your files spread out across it as you make notes in your legal pad, wearing his old college t-shirt and a pair of paint splattered leggings.

The two of you have a perfectly good dining table in the kitchen, but you never use it. The living room is your space, the soft sound of Norah Jones playing in the background and the scent of wild sage and sea salt from the candle you have burning on the mantlepiece.

“It’s not funny.” He tells you as he sits down on the floor alongside of you, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

“The woman you’re having an affair with is actually your wife.” You remind him, tapping your pen upon the legal pad. “It’s a little funny.”

“You know I’d never…” He trails off as his lips brush over the curve of your shoulder because the thought of it is so repugnant to him. He doesn’t want to think about another woman in your bed, trying to take your place.

“I know.” You tell him, inclining your head so that he can read the honesty in your expression. “I would never either.”

He’s never doubted you, not for a minute.

His thumb trails along your jaw, guiding your mouth to his and he kisses you with a tenderness he reserves for no one else. He loves these moments, the ones where it’s just the two of you, at home, simply being with one another.

“Show and tell.” You say softly as his hands begin to wander, his lips seeking out that delicious little spot just underneath the hinge of your jaw, the one that makes you say his name.

“Hm.” He mumbles distractedly as his fingertips delve under the hem of the t-shirt, skirting along the line of your bra.

“I mean it Beau.” You utter, your head tipping back as he guides the shirt up and over your body, before tossing it onto the couch.

“I’ll take it into consideration.” He whispers against your skin as his fingers tug at the waistband of your leggings. “Right now, I’ve got other things I want to focus on.”

***

Beau chooses to address the issue with the Top Gun graduates. They’re fierce, loyal and above all else, he knows that they’ll put a stop to those rumours that are circulating the base. He can’t have his subordinates doubting him, he needs them to trust him, in the field and off it. News of an affair erodes that, it makes him seem duplicitous, makes them question his motives and that leads to mistakes. People get hurt or worse killed. So, yea, now he’s taking your advice, he’s doing show and tell.

“Final order of business.” He says as he stands in front of them, hands clasped together. “I need to address the rumours regarding the affair I’m having with a JAG officer.”

He senses the mood shift, backs straighten, and all eyes are on him. He nods at Warlock, whose waiting at the side door before he opens it. There’s a low murmur when you step inside, a few elbow nudges because the source of the scuttlebutt has now entered the room and is now standing alongside their Rear Admirable clad in a navy-blue JAG uniform.

Briefly Beau wonders what they expect from this latest development.

Maybe the whole, we’re just colleagues’ speech.

“This is my wife.” He introduces you to the group. “She’s a Lieutenant Commander in JAG and recently returned from a six-month deployment overseas. If you need an attorney, she’s the best we’ve got.”

It’s true, you excel at your position, and he couldn’t be prouder of you. You’ve achieved so much throughout your career and one of the reasons he’s here today is because he hates the idea of your successes being diminished by gossip.

“You have two minutes for questions.” He tells the graduates before folding his arms over his chest.

Phoenix is the first one to speak up, she raises her hand and Beau inclines his head towards her.

“How long have you been married?” She asks, leaning forward on her desk.

“Seven…” You pause because the deployments make it harder to keep track, you’ve been away for some anniversaries and home for others. You look to Beau for clarification.

“Eight.” He says, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a small smile because he knows you can never remember the exact timings. The only reason he does is because he’s meticulous about putting information into his calendar.

“Eight years.” You correct yourself. “Together for three before that.”

Rooster is next up; his elbows are on his desk before he raises two fingers.

“How does it work with the deployments?”

“Patience.” Beau informs the Lieutenant, rubbing his palm across his jawline. “Open communication.”

You don’t know the graduates, this is the first time you’ve met them, but you think you can see something underneath Rooster’s demeanour. There’s a reason he asked that question, so you elaborate.

“You have to be honest with each other, talk about your feelings, the good ones and the bad ones especially on the lead up to it.” You reiterate before gesturing between you and Beau. “We talk as often as we can, keep each other up to date with what’s going on in our lives, even if it’s just the day-to-day stuff. If one of us doesn’t get in contact for a few days, we try not to take it too personally. I know that life on the base can get hectic and he knows sometimes you can’t just get a signal in the middle of the Pacific.”

That gets a little laugh and it’s good to see that there’s a little humour in them. You hate it when people take themselves too seriously.

“Care packages.” Beau supplements into the conversation.

“Oh, sometimes when I’m away he sends me things from home, and I send him stuff from my travels.” You tell the group, leaning back against the podium at the front of the room. “Just a little something to say we’re thinking of each other.”

You can see you’ve given Rooster some food for thought. You wonder what his circumstances are, if there’s a girl in the background, he’s thinking of getting serious about.

“Have you ever thought about giving it up?” Hangman asks, a cocktail stick dangling out of his mouth. “The job for the sake of the marriage?”

Another one with something on his mind, you think. Although you don’t spy a wedding ring on his finger, you suspect something that might be heading that way. You’re good at reading people, it comes in handy in the courtroom.

“Yea.” You answer honestly, with a small shrug of the shoulders. “We’ve talked about it a few times, but this is who I am, the same way it’s who he is. Neither of us will compromise on that, if it’s right you shouldn’t have to.”

Hangman nods knowingly before Beau interrupts.

“Alright, your two minutes is up.” His palm comes to rest upon your lower back, thumb skating over the vertebrae. “We have other places to be, so good luck with your training.”

It isn’t until you reach the corridor outside that he slows his step. The two of you find yourself alone for a minute, a rarity on such a busy military base. You lean against one wall, while he stands rigid in front of the other, both hands coming to rest on his hips.

“Those were some tough questions, right?” He asks you, his mouth setting into a grim line before he looks at you.

“That last one…” You shake your head. “The job for the sake of the marriage, that felt a little too close to home.”

Beau nods his agreement before his gaze meets yours.

“You know I’d never…”

“No, I know.” You assure him, pushing away from the wall and coming to stand before him. You reach for his collar straightening it just a little, despite the fact it didn’t require any intervention. “But it is getting harder to leave.”

Then don’t. He wants to say but instead he bites his tongue because he’s a good husband and it’s a lot more complicated than that. Your palms come to rest on his chest, he can tell you’re preoccupied with something. It’s in the way your brows crease just a little.

“What is it?” He asks you, studying your expression for clues.

You’re interrupted by the door opening as Warlock steps out into the corridor, the encrypted tablet clasped in his hands.

“We have a full schedule today...” He pauses, his finger lingering over the calendar as the two of you step apart. “I can give you a minute.”

“He’s all yours Solomon.” You say with a smile as you draw away from him.

He can already feel you slipping through his fingers, he isn’t sure what it is that gives him that sensation but it’s acute. There’s a trepidation in the pit of his stomach, something he only gets when it comes to your deployments but it’s far too soon for that. You’ve barely been home more than a couple of weeks.

“I’ll catch up with you later.” You promise before turning on your heel and striding down the corridor with purpose.

It reminds him for the moment of the first time he saw you, walking into the courtroom with your head held high, that black leather legal binder tucked under your arm. He’d been sitting in the gallery watching the trial of an Ensign accused of smuggling coke through produce in the kitchens. The idiot had been under his command at the time and elected for a court martial. You had eviscerated his case; it was both beautiful and painful to watch.

He spends the rest of the afternoon distracted, wishing the two of you had had a chance to finish that conversation.

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#beau cyclone simpson #beau simpson #beau simpson x you #beau simpson x reader #cyclone x reader #cyclone x you #topgun beau #beau cyclone simpson x reader

432 notes · View notes

munsonfamilyband · 1 year

Text

I’ve had a Different Meeting AU stuck in my head for ages and I’ve decided to share it

After Starcourt Steve can’t sleep. The nightmares and panic keeps him from getting sleep; if he’s lucky he gets an hour. After a week he’s falling apart and he suddenly remembers a piece of his past - he remembers smoking weed with Tommy H and sleeping like a baby. So he starts digging, ends up having to talk to people he never wanted to speak to again, but he finds out who to call.

Eddie Munson. The name is familiar, but the number isn’t. Steve calls Eddie and sets up a meeting the next day to buy some weed. When he drives to the meeting spot he walks through how he’s going to apologize for who he was. Steve is pretty sure he never did anything to Eddie but he wants to be safe rather than sorry. He gets out of his car and ambles through the woods to meet Eddie at a picnic table. Eddie Munson is sitting on the table, legs kicked out in front of him and leaning back on his elbows. Steve quickly averts his eyes from the tattoo he can see on Eddie’s stomach where his shirt has ridden up. He’s aware that he finds men attractive, has been since Jonathan beat him up in ‘83, but now is not the time. Eddie looks up when Steve steps into the clearing and smirks.

“You’re late, I was starting to think you were going to stand me up.”

“Uh, sorry, I got a little side tracked. But um, before we do this I wanted to say sorry…I guess? I’m not sure if I ever did anything to you in school, I’m pretty sure I didn’t but I wanted to apologize for being a dick anyway.” Eddie just blinks at him, grin gone, as he sits up fully while still sitting on the table.

“You’re….. sorry?”

“Yeah, man. I’m trying to be a better person, throw the whole ‘King Steve’ shit out, and I figured that apologizing to the guy I’m hoping will sell me weed is a good place to start, y’know?” Steve knows that there’s a flush crawling up his neck from the embarrassment, can feel it heating up his ears, but he can’t focus on that with Eddie Munson staring at him with his big eyes and wild, curly hair- nope, stopping that right now.

“Oh. Well, you didn’t do anything, I mean, your buddy, Tommy H, used to fuck with me until he started buying my shit. The guy’s almost feral but he isn’t stupid enough to piss off his dealer. So, I guess we’re good then?” Steve breathes out a sigh of relief, moving closer to the table to sit while Eddie climbs down to sit on the opposite side. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Steve clears his throat, glancing around a bit. Eddie probably assumes it’s from nerves around the deal, which is fine with Steve. He doesn’t need to know that Steve is still looking over his shoulder for Russians and flesh monsters. “Uh, look, man. I know you’re wondering about my face, and it has to do with why I’m looking to buy. I was at the mall when it…burned down.” Steve hears Eddie mumble something like ‘holy shit’ under his breath. “I got knocked over during the panic and got trampled,” Steve easily lies. The cover story had been repeated to him until he knew it just as well as the real events. “Ever since, I’ve been having a hard time sleeping and I know weed can help so I was looking to get some to help.” He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, studying his face in a way that reminds him eerily of Nancy.

“I can totally get why you would need weed after that. But, no offense or anything, you seem way more nervous about this than normal.” Steve can’t help but sigh, of course the drug dealer can read him like a book.

“Yeah, I uh, I got drugged when I was at a club a little while ago. I guess I’m nervous about being high again, even though I need to sleep.” Steve meets Eddie’s eyes and watches a complicated series of emotions flash across the other man’s face before seeming to decide on something.

“Okay, I normally wouldn’t do this, but you really do seem to be trying to be better, and you’ve clearly been through a lot lately, so I’m going to make an offer and you can decline if you want, but I figured I would try.” Eddie takes a deep breath, Steve narrowly avoiding watching his cheat expand with it. “Because you’re nervous about this, I can waive the fee this time and bring the pot to smoke with you. So that you don’t have a bad trip, or whatever.” Steve freezes, thrown aback by the offer. After a moment he is able to voice a response.

“You would do that for me?”

“I mean, just because I deal drugs doesn’t mean I have no morals. It feels weird to sell you shit and then let you go off on your own knowing you had a traumatic experience.”

Steve, despite being stunned, manages a smile. “That- thank you, Eddie. That is- I appreciate it a lot.”

The quickly make a plan to meet up the next day at Steve’s house, and Steve offers to get food as payment.

This pattern continues for a month before Eddie’s friends convince him to try a move on Steve - who has been maybe flirting since they met - and the night ends with them making out on Eddie’s couch. They date happily for 6 months, laughing as they pretend to not know each other in front of the kids, until the first day of Spring Break Steve sees a trailer he spends more time at than his own house on the news. As soon of Dustin and Max show up, Steve is grabbing his keys and running to his car, knowing exactly where Eddie is hiding.

Steve never wanted his boyfriend to get involved with this part of his life, but there is no way he will leave him alone now that he is.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #is this okay?#i don’t know #i’m pretty tipsy and this has been in my head all day #Different Meeting AU

2K notes · View notes

onabat11e · 3 months

Text

can't keep my hands to myself (pt. 1)

rating: M for Mature (18+)

warnings: public teasing, implied dom/sub dynamic, part 2 to come soon!

summary: ona can't keep her hands to herself. she wants to see how far she can push lucy before she snaps.

based on this request!

word count: 1.7k

AO3 Link

When Mapi and Ingrid had suggested a double date, Lucy and Ona agreed immediately. Seeing the duo outside games and training sessions didn’t come often enough, so they snatched up the first opportunity when their schedules aligned.

“Are you almost ready?” Lucy asked, walking into the bedroom where Ona sat at the vanity mirror, applying light makeup.

“Almost, I’ve just gotta-.“ Ona’s breath caught in her throat when she looked up and saw Lucy’s reflection in the mirror. Lucy had her hair in a low bun, bits of the newly dyed blonde hair sticking out.

Dressed in a sleeveless black t-shirt, Lucy had chosen to wear something that perfectly flaunted Ona’s favourite feature of hers: her arms. Ona’s eyes trailed down to take in the rest of Lucy, the shirt tucked into loose-fitting acid-wash jeans.

“Just gotta what, love?” Lucy was oblivious, busy trying to flatten a near-invisible crease on her shirt. Ona’s eyes followed the contours of Lucy’s biceps, down her toned forearms, and her hands. God. She wondered if Lucy even knew what she was doing. How could she walk in looking like that and not expect Ona to go wild?

“Just need to apply my chapstick.” Ona forced the words out, shaking her head as if it would be enough to clear the thoughts from it. She arose from her chair, turning and walking towards Lucy, Ona ensured to keep extended eye contact with Lucy as she dragged the chapstick against the plump skin of her lower lip.

“Have I ever mentioned how good that shirt looks on you?” Ona took another step towards Lucy and rubbed her hands down Lucy’s muscles, thumbs caressing the contours. Ona’s fingernails scraped the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake on Lucy’s skin.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Lucy's eyes skimmed Ona, admiring the low cut on Ona’s tight black dress, which was accentuating her chest. She was interrupted by Ona clearing her throat.

“My eyes are up here!” Ona teased, reaching up to tilt Lucy’s head chin up using her fingertips. She used her thumb to trace a line going up Lucy’s jaw before resting a hand behind her neck.

Ona pulled Lucy into a kiss, earning a hum at the fruity taste of Ona’s chapstick. Ona tried to deepen the kiss, lifting herself onto her tiptoes, only to be denied by Lucy.

“No time for a quickie?” Ona wiggled her eyebrows, partially joking, mostly serious. She leant back in, managing to kiss Lucy’s neck once before Lucy pulled away, not giving in to Ona’s advances.

Lucy checked the time on her watch, raising an eyebrow at Ona’s puppy dog eyes. Ona whined, tilting her head to the side and sticking out her bottom lip to pout.

“We are going to be late,” Lucy warned, pushing back against Ona slightly. “Maybe if you can behave yourself tonight, we can continue this later.”

Mapi 🦁: head inside when you get here. I found a perfect spot.

Lucy dismissed the text before letting Ona know and holding the door open to let her enter first. Mapi’s message was right, as they had gotten a secluded booth near the back of the bar. Lucy and Ona were glad about this, meaning the group could be far enough from the loud music and avoid any prying eyes.

Lucy and Ona spotted the couple and waved to let them know they had arrived before heading to the bar and ordering their drinks. Thankfully, the line for the bar moved quickly, meaning the girls could make their way over to their friends soon.

Ingrid flashed a grin at the approaching couple, now with their drinks in hand. She had light jeans on with a beige cardigan draping off her shoulders. María sat next to her, a plain white t-shirt and corduroy trousers, matching the colour of Ingrid’s cardigan, no doubt purposefully.

Ona greeted the two as she slipped into the booth seat first, scooting over for Lucy to follow her. Both couples took a moment to catch up and were excited to talk about something other than football for once.

Ona laughed at one of Mapi's jokes, hand slapping on Lucy’s knee and resting there. That’s when the idea hit her. She was still feeling a little high-strung, getting denied what her body desired. Why not have a little fun with it tonight?

‘How far can I push Lucy before she snaps?’ gradually became Ona’s favourite game. Her hand, once innocuously resting, had slipped further up Lucy’s thigh, squeezing slightly against the strong muscle under the denim.

Ona let her mind wander as she continued tracing figure 8s through the denim. She imagined pushing Lucy until she snapped, imagined pushing Lucy until she bent Ona over the booth table and-.

She mentally clamped down on that thought, not daring to entertain it further.

Ona’s free hand reached for her drink, taking a sip of the cool liquid to try and level her head. Her hand stroked further inwards, aiming for a more sensitive area of Lucy’s thigh now. Ona dared to peak at Lucy, hoping to see a crack in her façade.

Lucy’s face was an image of neutrality, minus a slight feathering of her jaw muscles. Ona could hear the woman’s thoughts warning her, ‘Don’t push it’. Deep down, that thought only further excited Ona.

The idea of pushing Lucy, knowing she was holding back any reaction, the idea of how Lucy might punish her. Ona had to bite down on her tongue to avoid giving any sign of where her head was currently.

Ona forced her eyes to the couple sitting opposite her, not wanting to seem obvious. She could hear them talking, but her brain couldn’t absorb the words, her head fuzzy and dizzied by her own lust for Lucy.

Lucy remained calm, replying to the conversation (and, frankly, she carried the conversation for Ona since she was in no state to be trying to act normal right now). Ona said a silent prayer that neither Ingrid nor Mapi seemed to have picked up on her sudden silence yet.

By now, Ona’s hand had inched almost to where Lucy’s pussy was throbbing under her underwear. Ona paused for a second before she stroked her thumbnail up the seam of the jeans. The action caused a vibration to travel to Lucy’s centre, her clit twitching under it, before Ona pulled her hand away from Lucy completely.

“I’m just gonna excuse myself. Bathroom.” Ona smiled at the group before heading off. She made a show of it, shimmying past Lucy. Her ass, sculpted by the tight fabric of her dress, swayed in front of Lucy’s face as she left the booth.

Lucy felt her mind go blank, only thinking about the sight of Ona’s body. Lucy turned to look at Ona and was met by a smile and a knowing glint in her eye before she turned to walk away.

“Actually, wait, I’ll join you,” Lucy called after Ona, turning to Mapi and Ingrid. “Nature calls!” Lucy joked to the couple, standing to follow Ona to the other side of the bar.

Lucy heard the bathroom door shut behind them, taking it as her cue to push Ona up against the sinks, a breath escaping from the shorter woman as her body hit the hard granite.

“What are you playing at?” Lucy questioned Ona, her voice stern. Ona was pinned against the basin with her hands pinned to the counter by Lucy. Ona stuttered as she tried to reply.

“What do you mean?” Ona’s acting skills were subpar. The rising heat in her cheeks and a twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips showed that Ona knew she was misbehaving.

“You are practically trying to fuck me in front of our friends.” Lucy was trying hard not to raise her voice, her pent-up frustrations, both emotional and sexual, fighting to take control. Lucy pushed a knee between Ona’s legs, the fabric of her dress rising. Ona bit her lip, her eyelids fluttering shut at the pressure of her hips subconsciously rolling into Lucy.

“If you carry on…“ The sound of the bathroom door opening promptly cut off Lucy. She jumped back quickly, pretending to be busy washing her hands. A small group of drunk ladies laughing and slurring their speech entered. Lucy stared over at Ona, a silent warning.

“This isn’t over,” she said loud enough for Ona to hear but not loud enough for the other women in the room to pick up on.

Both the women left the bathroom without another word to each other, Ona looking like a puppy that just got told off, her tail between her legs.

“Are you alright, Ona?” Ingrid questioned, noting Ona’s frazzled appearance and flushed cheeks. Before Ona could open her mouth to say anything, Lucy decided to answer for her.

“She’s not feeling too well, actually.” Lucy wrapped an arm around Ona, her thumb idly rubbing against the small of her back. “Isn’t that right?” Ona knew this wasn’t a question but an instruction to agree with her. Lucy’s eyes held nothing but kindness, the perfect act for their friends.

Ona nodded slightly, averting her gaze from Lucy. When she looked up at Mapi and Ingrid, she was met with sympathetic smiles and kind eyes.

“That’s a shame,” Mapi started, looking over to her girlfriend and placing a hand over hers on the table.

“Maybe we can take a rain check?” Ingrid continued, looking over to her girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. Ona felt guilt swelling in her chest, having to cut their double date short because she couldn’t control herself.

“Sounds great!” Lucy enthusiastically agreed, pulling Ona in closer to her. “Right, I better get this one home before she gets any worse.” Ona could hear the sharpness in those last words, feeling like a direct attack on her behaviour.

The two couples exchanged their goodbyes, their friends saying they hoped Ona would feel better soon. Ona and Lucy turned to leave, the latter swiping on her phone, ordering an Uber back to their apartment.

“Just wait until we get home…” Lucy’s frustrated tone echoed into Ona’s ear as they made their way to the bar exit.

#my writing #ona batlle #lucy bronze #luna #ona batlle smut #lucy bronze smut #woso smut #woso fanfics #my brain after deciding the title: I MEAN I COULD BUT WHY WOULD I WANT TO #mine #as always ignore any mistakes ive reread this 867 times #fulfilled request

155 notes · View notes

vulpisnocturna · 8 months

Note

Itachi Hate Sex Prompt Please 🙏♡

I'm not used to writing Itachi with anything but obsessive love for the one he's shagging so this will be quite interesting :)))

hate sex

NSFW - Minors do not interact

Warnings: hate sex, reader and itachi get into a scrap, itachi's not that serious, otherwise reader would be dead, humiliation, praise (derogatory), conflicting feelings, fingering, vaginal sex, choking, dom Itachi, creampie, Itachi is a bit mean (as he is when he’s acting)

You parried a kick to your stomach, but the force of the impact still made your arms burn, and you had no time to think about it as he switched to a punch to your face. You ducked, aiming low with a kick to his calves, but he was quick to step back and aim to grab you by the hair. A low move, you thought, but to be expected from someone such as him. You would have never expected to find the Uchiha Itachi in this empty house, one you thought had only been put to use for missions recently. Evidently not, because you had almost been caught in an arm lock as soon as you had entered.

The orders were clear: you had to either retreat or die in the futile attempt to kill him as the traitor he was. Retreating did not seem to be an option, because he kept pressing you with taijutsu, perhaps not wanting to ruin the hideout he was obviously using; killing him wasn't either, because he was Uchiha Itachi, and you were only a normal jounin out of her depth.

He grabbed onto your arm, throwing you against a wall several feet away. You coughed, your back burning and aching, but you were quick to get back on your feet in the narrow corridor as Itachi approached you, not a hair out of place, not even out of breath. You didn't look him in the eye, of course, but the slight smirk on his lips was enough to let you know the bastard would have a smug glint in his crimson irises.

The Gods had been cruel in granting him everything: he was cunning, powerful, came from the most powerful clan in the world, and to top it all off, he had good looks, too.

You had grown slower after he had landed that hit on you, though, and it was easy for him to grab your wrists and twist them behind your back, blocking your movements with an iron grip.

'Your stunt ends here' he said evenly behind your head, his voice calm and collected. He was soft-spoken, and despite you putting all of your strength into thrashing to get out of his hold, he did not budge an inch.

So you put all your strength into stomping on his foot and headbutting him in the nose. He let out a soft groan, his grip slackening for a split second, one you did not waste. You used all your strength to throw him to the ground, straddling his torso and preparing to punch him in the face. But he caught your fist in his hand, twisting underneath you and throwing you off your balance, until you found yourself in his position, your leg pinned down by his knee, the other by his hand. Panic gripped you as you closed your eyes, hearing him let out a soft scoff.

'You think that will stop me from putting you under genjutsu? I could have done so from the beginning. I wished to test the strength of Konoha's jounins these days. Regrettably, I am disappointed' he said. You lowered your gaze to where you thought his torso might be and opened them, swinging your fist towards his face. He slammed it against the floor, above your head, doing the same with your other hand and pinning them with one of his. You started getting more and more panicked, primal fear taking hold of you, suffocating you as you resorted to thrashing like a wild animal.

'Let me go, you prick' you yelled, your eyes meeting his for the first time. You were rooted to the spot immediately, not by genjutsu, simply by his stare. His eyes were... hypnotising. They were terrifyingly beautiful, the colour of fresh blood, framed by long, dark eyelashes.

'Why would I do that?' he asked simply, almost curiously. You gritted your teeth, wondering how quickly he would kill you if you spat in his face.

'I'm not sure what to do with you' he mused, his eyes scanning you, as though you had the answer he was looking for written on your body. You tried to fight against his grip again, this time with your legs, and perhaps by chance, you managed to kick him in the hip, which again, made him groan as his hand shot to your throat. His fingers tightened around it, cutting your airflow, and your eyelids grew heavy, his features blurring. A small moan managed to escape you, and his fingers slackened ever so slightly, his palm lifting a little, allowing you to breathe. You did not know why he hadn't just suffocated you, but you counted your blessings and breathed in sharply, still hazy, but in a different way.

One that made your body oddly warm.

'Did you lose your fighting spirit already?' he asked, and you ground your jaw, snapping out of your trance and starting to writhe again.

This time, he pinned you down with his whole body, to the point where you could not move an inch. It was then that you felt it. It was faint, but it was there. A hard bulge between your thighs, pressing insistently. To your horror, your hips twitched against it, your eyes shooting up to him when you heard his breath hitch.

His jaw tightened, and you wondered if there was indeed a way to get out of this. An extraordinary man he was, but he was still only a man. And he clearly liked you in some way. If you used it to your own advantage, maybe there was a way you could still save yourself.

Your lips parted, and you meekly rolled your hips against him, the whimper you let out not entirely planned as you felt his erection against you. His own hips jerked towards you, and you could not hold back a little smirk. One he caught, unfortunately.

'Oh? You think I don't know what you're trying to do? You think if you seduce me, I will let you leave? Foolish, wishful thinking' he said, a hint of longing in his voice as he leaned against your ear, breathing in, making shivers run down your spine, 'I could indulge you. But it will not go as you think'

His breath tickled your ear, and his lips brushed it, making your whole body tense and hypersensitive. You were quickly losing the sliver of control you had gained, because unfortunately, you were not immune to his charm, and two could play that game.

'Fuck- you' you hissed, pushing against him. The soft, dark chuckle he let out made your lower stomach warm, and two of his fingers lifted from your throat to grip your face. Before you could react, his lips clashed with yours. He was not particularly kind in his movements, but he was good. Unbearably good. His lips were so soft, his tongue demanding as it licked your bottom lip and pressed against yours. You could not help but rut against him, moaning in his mouth as he angled his head and deepened the kiss.

Your whole body felt on fire. You hated it. Hated what he was doing to you, how your body was betraying you for a simple kiss with someone so vile. How easily he had regained control over you in your own plan. How you had ended up being his prey.

'Much better' he murmured when he pulled away, lifting his hand off your throat and pushing two of his fingers in your mouth.

'Suck' he commanded, and to your surprise, you obediently wrapped your lips around them, twirling your tongue around the pads of his fingers, sucking like he'd asked. He smirked slyly, pulling them away with a filthy pop and slipping his hand under your shorts and underwear. You could not even fight back, because the first drag of his fingers was like heaven. It tore a breathy moan from you and another scoff from him.

'I suppose you had no need to suck my fingers. You're drenched. What does that say about you, little one?' he taunted, but you were hardly capable of coherent thoughts as his middle finger circled your clit, making you whine in a needy voice.

'You're hard... too' you hissed, arching your back when his fingers slipped inside you, curling sinfully, making the pleasure unbearable. Why did you have to love this so much? Why did you want him to continue? Why couldn't you show any restraint?

'Mhm. Well, you are being such a good girl for me. So compliant' he crooned, voice smooth and mocking, and the smirk plastered on his lips when you clenched around his graceful, sinewy fingers made you burn with humiliation.

'You cannot hide your reactions. I can tell just how much you need me to fuck you' he breathed against your throat, his tongue following the path of your artery, making you squirm as he pumped his fingers inside you. Knowing you would not even attempt to fight him, his hand left your wrists to yank down your shorts and drenched panties, and you slipped out of them, gasping when his fingers curled around the hem of your top and yanked it down too, exposing your naked breasts to his eager mouth. He hummed in self-satisfaction as he sucked on your nipple, tearing strained moans and whimpers out of you as easily as he had overpowered you.

Your shame was flickering out and dying with each drag of his slender fingers along your walls, each curled motion that pressed against your g-spot, each movement that brought you closer and closer to the best orgasm of your life. You felt drunk on his touch, and though you should have been repulsed, you could only think of how damnably good he felt, how every derogatory praise made you throb with need.

Your fingers rose to clutch his shoulders, and you desperately tried to close your eyes to escape someplace else, somewhere where you weren't being so whorish for a traitor who seemed to have you wrapped around his finger. But he stopped, cruelly dragging his lips down your throat, nipping at the sensitive skin.

'That will not do. Open your eyes. Look at me, or I will stop. I want to see how disgusted you are by the fact that you are moaning like a slut for me' he said in a mellow voice, making your cheeks heat up with shame once again as you opened your eyes, because you needed him to keep going, needed to cum so badly it hurt.

He looked so damn pleased with himself as he rewarded you with a third finger and another curl of his fingers, until you were sobbing and trembling underneath him with an orgasm that left you seeing white and unable to hear anything but static for several seconds.

'That's a good girl. You can take another, can't you? You're not that weak' he crooned, lifting his fingers and sucking them clean, letting out a groan as your chest heaved with sawed breaths. He took off your top, unfastening his cloak and taking off his own shirt. He was... beautiful. With jutting collarbones, long dark hair tied in a low ponytail, faint abs and a lithe body, he seemed to be carved by an artist's hands. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of his trousers, pulling them down and freeing his cock. Your mouth watered at the sight: he was long and fairly thick, with a reddened tip already leaking with precum. You were entranced as you watched him stroke it, until your thoughts were cut off by his cock dragging along your labia, making your hips jolt.

'This is what you were planning, yes? Is it just as you had envisioned it?' he teased, pushing the tip in, his lips parting, a soft moan that sounded so hot you could barely breathe pouring out of his pretty lips. As he pushed in more of his thick cock inside you, you couldn't help but whine for it, so far lost in the pleasure that you could not even think about how much you were supposed to hate that man. When he was filling you up so well, when his cock rubbed against your g-spot so fucking well, when you had never felt pleasure like that before.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades, leaving marks in your wake as you raked them across his back. He groaned, dipping his head to suck on the curve of your neck.

'Good girl. You take my cock like you love it, mh? So this is how a Konoha jounin behaves when she's faced with an enemy. Like a greedy slut' he taunted, bottoming out and thrusting back in, making you tear up and moan filthily.

'You're so tight and wet for me, little one' he continued, his fingers digging into your ass, probably leaving marks that would not let you forget him any time soon.

'I-tachi...' you could not restrain yourself from moaning his name, which only seemed to egg him on as he started thrusting inside you, lifting your legs around his waist. His necklace dangled against your jaw, strands of dark hair tickling your cheeks every time he pushed inside you and tore another moan from you. You were struggling to keep your eyes on him, knowing he would stop if you didn't. And it was too good to give up on it.

'That's right, little slut. Moan my name like that' he breathed, his hand going back to your throat and pressing on the sides, making your head light and heightening the sensations in your body.

Tears glided down your temples, disappearing in your hair, and you tried to keep yourself from screaming for him, but he was too good. And when he slipped out and flipped you on your stomach, lifting your hips and sinking back into you, his hand fisting and pulling your hair, you lost the strength to even think about fighting back. You were lost in that heady feeling, in the sensations he could stir from you, in the way his cock seemed to press against all the right places.

'Fuck- please...' you babbled incoherently, pushing your ass into him, your voice almost lost in the loud squelching sounds.

'Please what? Use your words. If you can still manage' he said relentlessly, and you moaned, clenching around him, glad that you could get away with closing your eyes, but it was too late. He was the only one in your mind now.

'Please- need to cum' you managed to say, and he must have been feeling merciful, because his hand slipped underneath you to rub at your clit, until you were sobbing his name and trembling with an even more violent orgasm than the first one.

'Fuck-' he grunted, his pace growing sloppy as he pulled you up by your hair and wrapped an arm around your torso, securing you in place as he continued to pound into you.

'Going to leave you with a reminder of how you sobbed for my cock' he breathed, pressing on your lower stomach, moaning against your ear as he pushed deep inside you and came, filling you with warmth.

You were panting, covered in a light sheen of sweat, a pleasant ache between your legs, a sense of both satisfaction and shame lingering in your fucked out mind as you collapsed on the cool floor, catching your breath.

He handed you a towel and your clothes, getting up and putting his shirt back on, slipping into his cloak and staring at you. He cocked his head as you stumbled to your feet, still hazy from pleasure.

'We may meet again if you forget this place is occupied' he said, a sly look in his red eyes. You swallowed, licking your dry, swollen lips. But before you could come up with a reply, he had vanished.

#uchiha itachi #itachi #itachi uchiha #itachi smut #itachi uchiha smut #itachi x reader #itachi imagines #itachi x you #itachi x y/n #naruto smut

290 notes · View notes