#They gave her two non dark types instead

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.

DAY SIX OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: slasher au (still takes place in the tlou'verse) + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft dark fic, horror, murder mystery

summary: bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in jackson. as the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

word count: 10k (i don't know what happened)

warnings: dubcon at the end, knife kink, descriptive canon typical violence, blood & mild gore, grief and death, an unpleasant guy hitting on you, murder, face-sitting, throat-fucking, mutual oral sex (69), dirty talk, possessive!joel, exhibitionism (tommy watches very briefly, he also kisses you in a platonic way), sex in the woods, piv, Joel is actually quite nice if you exclude the murders, mild breeding kink, size kink, little bit of blood kink

a/n: the owl mask joel wears in this to hide who he is is inspired by @softlyspector's post about the tawny owl mug joel uses in tlou part 2 which I still get sad if I think about it for too long 😭

Bodies have been dropping dead all around you long before the outbreak. 

Maybe not in the everyone-you-know-is-getting-infected-and-killing-people type of way, but more so in a death-never-felt-like-a-stranger-to-you sort of way. Yet, you still don’t know how to deal with death. Your grief is as violent as a butterfly flapping its wings; the strength of it non-existent but you never know where, or when, it’ll cause a storm. 

First, it was your grade school teacher. You didn’t have a particularly strong bond with her but you did like her. You still remember how your friend's voice quaked as she gave you the news on a landline. You couldn’t believe it and had to accuse her of making a joke, even though you knew she would never joke about something like this. Then your dad took the phone from you and you just assumed your friend's mom did the same. The next week, when you went back to school and the funeral was now behind all the children in the classroom, the custodian cut the last tablecloth your teacher had used for her desk and gave a piece to each and every one of you. It was a vibrant orange cloth with daisies scattered around – ugly, but you still cherished it.

Then it was your pets, grandparents – there was also the time when your pet-crazed neighbor adopted another smaller dog while she still had two untrained, over-energized dogs, and the two twins ripped the other dog apart. You had seen the carnage. By some miracle, that small, fluffy dog named Sugar was still breathing, alive. You had held a blood bag over the dog's head, hoping that the small animal wouldn't die.

She didn’t die that day, but it sure as hell left a scar on you. 

As a kid, you never seemed to quite grasp the ways of grieving. You didn’t get angry. You didn’t cry. You just. . thought about it. However, the emotions came differently when you became an adult. Now when someone close to you died, you felt it more violently, oddly enough you still fought against the tears and only cried when you were alone. 

On Outbreak Day, you lost everything. 

Your family, your friends—your life, now it was all about survival, but survival towards what, you didn’t know. You killed for it, fought for it. Yet every move you made felt automatic like you were wired to at least try and survive — to wait it out and not be left behind when civilization rebuilt itself once more.

You made some friends along the way and lost some friends too. You locked their faces and their memories in your heart, only unlocking the box when you were truly and utterly alone. 

Then you found Jackson. 

And you met Joel and Tommy Miller.

Your official title is scavenger but you much prefer to label yourself as an explorer instead. 

You’ve adapted to your quite well life at Jackson. You go beyond the borders, sometimes alone and sometimes with other fellow explorers, and gather supplies or try to pinpoint other locations threats might be lurking in. You’re about to go on another trip, this one shorter than your regular one to two-week expeditions, but before heading out you decide to stop by the only bakery in Jackson named The Last Crumb—previously named The Cordyceps Crumb but Maria decided it was in bad taste. You, on the other hand, had found it funny and topical. 

As you patiently wait in line, your camping bag waiting for you outside the bakery, someone bumps into you from behind, then never moves back. 

You turn with a raised eyebrow, not enjoying the close proximity, “Excuse you,” you snap. The man looks at you with a hint of mischief in his eyes, you roll your eyes when you recognize the face. “Move back a beat Tucker, I’m not in the mood this morning.” 

“Someone didn’t get her beauty sleep,” he grins but moves away regardless. “Want me to come with you this time? Sweet thing like you alone out there? It’s ain’t right.” 

“You can barely aim. Why would I want someone that’s most likely to get me killed around me?” 

“I think you’ll find my company to be plenty entertaining.” 

You’re about to gag when the bell of the bakery chimes, the sharp sound echoing through the wooden walls. Your face must've shown immense signs of relief because Tucker turns around to see who you're looking at. His instant frown makes you want to laugh and chuck him between the two men you’d describe as a wolf den. 

“Well, if it ain’t the Miller brothers,” Tucker tuts, attempting to give one of them a friendly pat on the shoulder. He stops midway when Joel’s gaze flits between you and him, his glare hard enough to cut diamonds. 

So he ends up slapping Tommy’s shoulder instead, which isn’t the best thing since you know the younger Miller hates Tucker. But among the brothers, he’s probably the one with less probability of getting your hand bitten off.

“Mornin’ Tucker,” Tommy answers, forcing a smile. 

Joel is less friendly, his words directed at you, “Is this dumbass botherin’ you again?” 

“I wouldn't exactly call a greeting among friends “botherin’,” Tucker says. “We’re just catchin’ up, no need to get your panties in a bunch Miller.” 

“God, you’re one word away from ruining my morning,” you hiss, glaring at the unpleasant man. “And we’re not friends.” 

His brows furrow, eyes going hard with an ugly snarl accompanying them, you feel braver when Tommy and Joel are around so you hold his gaze, not flinching away. 

Tommy is the one to ease the tension. He lays a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing the man’s attention away from you. “I’ll get you what you want a’right Tucker? It’s on me. Just go wait outside.” 

“But—” 

“Outside, Tuck,” Tommy repeats and you shudder at his tone. 

Tucker’s shoulders drop, defeated, “Fine, get me a raisin bagel.” 

He doesn’t wait for Tommy’s response and heads out the bakery. You finally release the breath you’ve been holding, your muscles relaxing along with the exhaled breath. Joel is by your side in the blink of an eye, his broad shoulder brushing yours providing comfort. 

“You sure you’re a’right?” he asks, gently curling fingers under your chin. “The prick didn’t do anythin’?” 

“Nah, nothing. He’s all bark but no bite. He asked if he wanted to join me today as if that buffoon wouldn’t get me killed.” you shrug, men being assholes was nothing new to you. You’re just glad that in Jackson it seems that there are more good apples than rotten ones.  “Too bad even paradise comes with drawbacks.” 

Joel snorts as Tommy cuts in, “Maria would be thrilled if she heard you calling it paradise.” 

“What are you smiling at? You think you can find anywhere better?” You playfully nudge Joel with your elbow. “You know there’s nothing but hell out there.” 

“I do, I just think callin’ here a paradise is a bit of a stretch is all.” 

The line moves and the three of you are finally at the counter, “You’re just a grump,” you tease Joel before turning your gaze to Poppy, the barista who knows everything about everyone. “Hey there, Poppy, the usual please.” 

“And a damn raisin bagel,” Tommy adds. 

“Well, isn’t it my favorite trio,” Poppy grins. “I’ll get all that ready for you in a second,” she locks her blue eyes on you and leans closer, you mimic her by instinct. “By the way have you heard of Ian? He wound up dead right outside the chopping block, an axe right through his chest.”  

You frown, “Good morning to you too, Poppy. Jesus Christ.” 

“I’ll confess I didn’t love the guy but isn’t it worrying that there’s a killer among us?” she murmurs while stuffing the goodies in paper bags. “Be careful out there.” 

“Well, if the culprit is here I think I might be safer out there,” you say and turn to Tommy. “Does Maria know?” 

“Of course, she does,” when you part your lips to say more, he lifts a finger and shoots you a crooked smile. “It’s confidential.” 

“Aw man, can’t you just tell us who she thinks it is?” Poppy asks, Tommy shakes his head and she lets out a dramatic sigh, “I miss my murder mystery books.” 

“I’ll try to find you something while I’m out,” you say, ignoring the way your heart began to race. Jackson is still a small town, it’s jarring to think someone might be out there, looking for their next target. “Though I think we could all do with a little less murder.” 

You hadn’t expected your voice to crack but your tone had betrayed you. Poppy extends you the bag of goods and a latte, as you reach out you feel Joel’s hand on your waist. His lips touch your ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure whoever it is is only goin’ after those who deserve it.” 

You lock your eyes with him, blinking heavily at the weight of his words. His voice had dropped, nothing but gravel as he whispered the words into your ear. A cold sensation slithers down your spine, chilling you to your core and making your throat tighten. 

His hand never leaves your waist as the three of you head out, and after a while, that chill slowly dissolves into a pleasurable warmth. 

You find solace in the woods. You love Jackson, but being in the woods away from everyone and everything makes you feel comforted. The first time you went scavenging, there was a slight fear in your movements; no matter how good your aim was, any kind of infected was difficult to kill.

But now you walk with ease. There isn’t an ounce of worry in your bones. The trees rustle happily and the smell of flowers and pine fills your nostrils. You can feel your lungs rejuvenating with every breath. Trickles of orange sunlight pour from the gaps of the trees. The sun sets, meaning you need to set up camp soon. 

While unpacking, you think of this morning. How Joel and Tommy stepped in when Tucker started bothering you. Honestly, you didn’t need their protection; Tucker is just one of those men who think they might have a shot if they bother you enough times. Still, it was nice to be claimed in a way, to be accepted into a family and cared for.

Your breath hitches slightly. Tommy, you see as a close friend, a brother perhaps, but Joel... Joel is another thing. Just thinking about him is enough to start a wildfire between your legs. You wish you were brave enough to do something about it, though. Whenever you two patrol together or stay awake late at night drinking, you always chicken out in the end. It doesn’t matter how his hands linger on your thighs or his eyes drop to your lips; you're just never convinced that the Joel Miller would be interested in you beyond a friend.

An unease starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. As the air grows colder with the approaching night, your skin prickles and you feel the phantom sensation of claws dragging down your back. You set the tent as quickly as you can, your eyes darting around the depths of the forest. Briefly, you bend over to adjust the ropes. 

A breath warm and damp ghosts the back of your neck and you jump, gun in hand as you turn around only to find—

Nothing. 

And no one. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline pumping in your veins, a drop of sweat trickling down your forehead. You've never had a trigger finger, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to just shoot every shadow you see.

“Dammit Poppy,” you mutter, annoyed that she gave you the brutal knowledge of Ian’s death right before you were heading out. Guilt stings at your heart. Ian was an asshole for sure, and you don’t exactly feel bad that he’s gone, but still, it was an eerie thought that someone had murdered him so violently. It had to be personal. 

Some part of you wishes Joel was here, or even Tucker, just another human being to tell you you’re just seeing things. 

You take a deep inhale and follow it up with a long exhale. You’re fine. There’s no one here. 

You give your surroundings one last suspicious look before going back to setting the tent. 

No matter how hard you try you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you amongst the shadows. 

Joel hears crickets and owls. The night had always been his friend since the outbreak. He had become a violent man with an equally violent heart. He waits in the shadows, watching. Laughter and playful shouts echo from the bar, and soon the door swings open; the man he's been waiting for crawls out of the establishment, shit-faced. The drunk man shouts his farewells and staggers toward his home.

Joel follows, his mask heating up the skin that lays underneath. His fingers itch with the need to wring that asshole's neck. One by one, he had been cleaning Jackson for the better. His tendencies subdued while also doing some good. Ian was one of those people who deserved it and Joel had enjoyed the chase, the pleas, he especially enjoyed the way he tripped and cried right before he sunk the blade of the axe through Ian’s chest. 

Tucker trips, making Joel want to laugh. The idiot might not even realize he’s being hunted. Joel looks around, they are far enough for the chase to begin. Tucker continues to slip and fall as he attempts to get up. Taking the opportunity, Joel walks towards him with quick steps, making sure the first thing the asshole sees is his mask. 

Tucker notices him before he gets up, his hands bracing the ground, his eyes go wide, “What the fuck?” 

Joel only tilts his head. He sees the trembles rolling down the other man’s body, he relishes in his fear. 

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble, whoever the fuck you are so. . . scram.” 

Joel’s eyes dart to his hand on the dirt, without a second thought he lifts his foot and curb stomps Tucker’s hand. Then he kicks the side of his face, an audible crunch echoing before his scream could. The man whimpers and falls back in his attempt to crawl away. He holds his jaw, blood streaming down his broken nose. 

“Who the fuck are you?!”  

He steps closer and watches as Tucker’s eyes bug out. He’s too drunk to properly run away or even scream. Such an easy target. He grips the other’s hair and lifts him to his feet, he can feel the strands starting to rip from his scalp one by one, Tucker’s face twisting in pain. “Your worst fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel answers eerily calm. It doesn’t matter if Tucker recognizes him. He’d be dead soon enough anyway. 

“P-Please,” he begs, realizing the same thing. “I’ll do whatever you want promise. I don’t want to die.” 

Joel grunts, not dignifying his pleas with an answer. Lifting his other hand, his knuckles connect to Tucker’s face with a loud crunch, body flying to the ground headfirst. 

He pulls out his knife and drops down, ignoring the ache in his knees, he grabs Tucker’s arm and aligns the sharp blade against his wrist. Tucker notices, his face going pale as a ghost. “D-Don’t—” 

Joel doesn’t bat an eye as blood spurts violently over his clothes and the dirt. Drops of crimson seeping into the fabric. The knife cuts through the flesh like butter, severing hand from bone. His hand clamps over Tucker’s mouth. Joel smiles as his screams bounce off of the palm of his hand. 

You come back to Jackson hand empty and earlier than intended. You were too much at unease, and being so jarred wasn’t the best while scavenging for supplies alone. During your trip, you did end up scribbling something for Poppy. It wasn’t finished but you hoped she would enjoy the first draft of the first chapter. It was mostly descriptions of what you felt, a cat-and-mouse game between two people who had bumped into each other accidentally. 

While heading into Jackson, you notice a crowd in the distance. You promptly get off your horse and walk with haste. You recognize Joel and Tommy easily, both brothers standing on each end of the crowd like gates keeping a herd of sheep in check. Ellie is standing right next to Joel, lifting herself on her toes to see; Joel is holding her back by gripping the cap of her hood.

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

Joel turns to you, his eyebrows raising when notices it’s you and not some random person he has to ignore, “You’re back,” he says. A statement rather than a question. 

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling that well,” you shrug him off. “So what happened?” 

His eyes turn to steel, his jaw locking in place. Before you can ask again, he gestures for you to move up the crowd with a tilt of his head.

“Lucky,” you hear Ellie murmur as you walk ahead, gently pushing those who were looking at the sight with concern. With every step you take, the murmur of the crowd fades into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise. Maria is addressing the crowd, you think, though you're not entirely sure. The scent of blood is thick in the air, disorienting you as you get closer.

Your eyes go wide, the earth slips from beneath you but your expression remains emotionless.  

It’s Tucker. 

You feel as if you’re standing alone. As if you’re the only one taking in the sight of absolute horror and gore. Tucker is lying in a pile of his own blood face first, his eyes are open and lifeless, his one hand is outstretched like he’s about to crawl away.

His right hand, however, is chopped off. 

It’s not even a clean-cut. The edges of his flesh are jagged and crooked, his blood-caked where his hand should be. Whoever did this cut it so it would hurt, so he would suffer tremendously. 

You can’t help but gasp, covering your mouth with your right hand. You begin to shake, confusion churning in your stomach as bile coats your tongue. He’s dead. Just like Ian. 

When Maria’s eyes find your own, she narrows her gaze, a small warning for you to keep it together. You can’t though. How could you? Tucker was alive and kicking a couple of days ago, just being his annoying self around Jackson. 

“Calm down,” you hear Joel mutter into your ear. You shiver at the brush of his lips. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Safe. You want to laugh. You don’t even know what that word means anymore. 

Joel’s mouth moves over the shell of your ear, “He was a nuisance. Don’t feel bad now that he’s dead.” 

“I didn’t want him to die,” you hiss back. “And knowing there’s a serial killer out there doesn’t exactly make me feel safe.” 

Despite your half-angry tone, you find yourself leaning into Joel’s presence. Your shoulder presses into his broad chest, and without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your shaking frame. Relief comes in the form of warmth spreading along your chest, tingles forming at the tips of your fingers and toes. The voices of the crowd gradually come back but you only hear one of the many questions.

“What do you think the message means?” 

Confusion crosses your face, brows furrowing as you try to make sense of it. Joel makes a choked-out sound that could’ve easily been taken as an amused chuckle. 

Then your eyes drop to Tucker’s outstretched hand and his dying message written in blood. 

O W L 

A week had passed since Tucker’s death. 

You've been thinking about both murders relentlessly, trying to piece together everything that you know so far. During this time, you're grateful for Poppy, who comes by almost every night to help you try to solve the case. That's been your sole focus for the past few weeks; you haven't been scavenging since you spooked yourself so badly that you returned early, only to find Tucker dead.

Some part of you thinks that the eeriness you felt that day was a sign of what was about to happen. It's also an odd coincidence that he ended up dead the same night he harassed you in the morning. However, there are no forensic investigators in Jackson, so it’s almost impossible to determine the exact time of death. That fact alone makes you anxious. It only means that whoever is killing everyone has nothing to worry about because even if they leave traces, who’s going to know?

In order to keep your nerves in check you end up writing a lot. You haven’t shown any of it to Poppy yet but you’re excited. You never thought writing a thriller would be the perfect way to escape the horrors of your actual life. At least in your stories, you have control. 

You also visit Joel and vice versa. 

Something had shifted the day he held you as you both gazed upon Tucker’s lifeless body. Maybe it was just you who felt bolder since death was once again right around the corner — or maybe Joel just felt more protective now, wanting to check on you as much as he could.

“You’re really writin’ a whole ass novel?” he asks, pouring you a glass of scotch. You still can’t get over the fact that it nearly tasted identical to the actual stuff. Jackson is truly a miracle; at least when bodies aren’t dropping left and write. 

Ellie’s at a sleepover, which means you and Joel have the whole house to yourselves. With everything going on you’d expect your libido to diminish a bit but it’s as strong as ever, ready to go. 

You smile as he places the glass in front of you, “Yeah,” you say, picking up the glass and heading toward the living room. “I couldn’t find Poppy anything to read and it helps me relax.” 

“Relax, how?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. The couch dips with his weight, and heat crawls up from your chest to your neck when his knee brushes against yours. 

“Well, it’s a horror thing. Horror slash mystery? I don’t know—whatever it is, it’s nice to have an outlet to escape what’s been happening lately.” 

“So to escape brutal murders you write more brutal murders?” 

You chuckle at the way his eyebrows raise, eyes going wide, “I don’t really focus that much on the gore. It’s more psychological, my sweet brute. Things don’t need to have blood to be scary.” 

His grin is wide and instant, dark eyes lighting up with amusement, “What did you just call me?” 

“I. . .��� Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly realizing what you’d said. 

“What cat got your tongue?” he teases. Joel leans closer, fingers dancing along the curve of your shoulder. You can feel the gravel in his voice. “You just called me yours, sweetheart. Does that jog your memory?” 

“I also called you brute,” you quip back immediately, cheeks aflame. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Don’t it?” his palm now presses fully into your shoulder, keeping you in place in case you might run. Joel tilts his head slightly, the plush of his lips only an inch away. “I like you callin’ me that,” the pink of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Say it again.”  

“S-Say what?” 

A small chuckle parts his lips, oddly enough it almost feels like his patience is wearing thin. He comes closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “That I’m yours,” he clarifies. “Been waitin’ to hear those words come from your mouth since I met you.” 

“You’re mine,” you whisper against his lips, eyelids fluttering but not quite closing. With the confession, you feel the brush of Joel’s lips on yours. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth. You part for him with a moan, and taking the opportunity, he slides inside, tasting every inch of you. 

His lips taste and feel like the forests you wander off to; it soothes you, calms your nerves, and has the taste of home. They’re chapped from the sun, yet soft. You can’t have enough of him, if he’d offered, you’d gladly kiss him forever. 

Joel parts with a shaky breath, his chest heaving, “And you’re mine,” he groans, his eyes dark with arousal. It’s an involuntary action but your eyes drop to the front of his pants where you see the thick outline of his cock. 

Your mouth goes dry, yet you manage to speak anyway, “Are words all you’ve been waiting for?” It’s bold, you’re highly aware, but you can’t help it when he’s this close. His scent suffocating, pulling you to him like a moth to a flame. 

He stares at you silently. His thumb touches your bottom lip, slightly tugging it down. He’s not smiling anymore, only observing. 

“No,” Joel answers slowly. He leans towards your ears, the thick hairs above his lips tickling your skin. “I’ve also been waitin’ to feel that velvet tongue on my cock, honey. And to feel how tight your throat gets when you take every inch of me.” 

Joel blows a puff of air, it caresses your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brings your hand to the front of his pants, dragging your palm up and down his length. You shudder. The heat of it seeps into your palm despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you lick your lips absentmindedly. “This is all for you sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, Joel. . .” your eyes roll back when he kisses your neck, open-mouthed kisses laid upon your skin like a gift. Your nipples tighten and if you look down right now, you know you’ll see them peeking through your shirt. 

He reads your thoughts, eyes moving down before meeting your gaze again. “Didn’t know you walked around without a bra, sunshine.” 

“I only go braless when I’m comfortable,” you answer. Joel cups your breasts roughly, kneading the flesh, he simultaneously sucks on your neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “Oh god,” the fabric of your panties grows damp and you clench your thighs together. 

“Not god,” he says sharply, sinking his teeth into you. “Joel.” 

“Joel,” you moan and arch your back, filling more of yourself into his palm. You squeeze his cock, relishing in the way he makes a strangled sound. “I want to suck you off, Joel.” 

“Be my guest.” 

You push him until he’s lying on the couch. You’re about to unbutton his jeans but he stops you. 

“Turn around,” he says. 

“What?” 

His wide grin nearly stops your heart, “Want to taste that sweet pussy, sunshine. Strip down and take a seat.” 

“On—On your face?” 

“Where else?” 

You’re too embarrassed to speak, tongue suddenly too big in your mouth. Quickly, and a bit clumsily, you strip down and turn before straddling his chest. You don’t need to touch yourself to know that you’re soaked. 

You swallow, “I’ve never done this before.” 

His hands come up to cradle your hips, urging you to move back towards his face. You feel the blunt sting of his nails. 

“That’s alright,” he mutters. “I won’t let you fall if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I’m more worried about how I’m gonna move, or accidentally suffocating you.” 

“What a noble way it would be to go.” 

“Joel!” you laugh, playfully smacking his thigh. He answers by giving your hips another squeeze, you surrender and move back until you’re hovering over his face. Your hand planted firmly over his hip bones, you lower yourself. You shudder as his tongue licks a stripe between your folds. He moans into your cunt, pulling you flush against his face. 

Meanwhile, you finally unzip his pants and pull his cock out, the heft of it bumping against your nose and lips. You drip at the smell of him and swear he smiles as he sucks on your aching clit, short-circuiting your brain with arousal. His cock throbs in your palm, a drop of precome glistening at the tip. Your mouth watering, you lean forward and clean him off. Another groan echoes within his chest and he thrusts forward, the tip of his cock kissing your lips. 

Eyes fluttering closed, you suck on the bulbous head and force yourself to go down until he hits the back of your throat. You wrap a hand around the base, stroking where you can’t fit, and hallow your cheeks. 

“Come on, sunshine. You can take me,” he rasps. “You’re mine, aren’t you? That mouth is meant to take me.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Joel pushes his tongue inside, your walls clenching around the wet muscle—you let out a loud gasp and grind down, then you feel the sting of his palm against your ass, pain blossoming from where he smacked. 

Your throat rattles with a moan and Joel takes the opportunity to drive forward, your eyes go wide as you feel the length of him sliding down your throat, cutting the air from your lungs. 

“Oh, fuck—” he moans unabashedly, the sounds sending a pleasurable tingle down your spine despite the strain on your throat. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Fuck, fuck—” 

Your throat tightens around him, your lungs starting to burn. His hand caresses both sides of your ass, the abrupt pain of the smack from before subduing, “Relax,” he says, swirling his tongue around your clit. “Breathe through your nose. Just a bit more. . .” 

Your nails bite into his thighs as you attempt to follow instructions. You relax your throat and slowly begin to breathe from your nose. It’s still difficult, but your lungs rejoice in the minimal amount of air that comes through. You make a mess of him. Saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth and down his length. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs. “Gonna fuck that pretty throat now and make this pussy come, understood?” 

Eyes tearing up, you nod. From the way your stomach convulses, you know that you’re close, your skin tight over your trembling muscles. The nod is all that Joel needs from you. Holding you in place, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself completely down your throat while flicking his tongue against your clit. You scream around him, eyes rolling back as he continues to devour you and take you apart at the same time. He licks you with fat strokes of his tongue, a hint of teeth scraping your folds here and there as he fucks your throat with shallow thrusts. 

You’re limp against his broad body, allowing him to use you as he pleases while all you can do is hang on for the ride. Pleasure licks the base of your spine, a searing heat caressing your skin while Joel continues to build you up only for you to fall spectacularly. Your lips start to ache, your throat squeezing around him whenever he snaps his hips forward— 

And all hell finally breaks loose. 

You come undone with a devastating cry only for it to be muffled by his cock going down your throat. You gush around his tongue, soaking his facial hair and mouth, Joel is underrated, licking and sucking until you’re shaking above him, every bit of tension draining from your body. 

Joel comes shortly after, his hand slides from your waist and he manages to reach out in order to hold your head down. You don’t have a choice but to swallow as he spills down your throat, thick spurts of come going down while he shudders and pushes even deeper. 

There’s so much of it, cock twitching and throbbing in your mouth until your mouth sucks him dry. You’re lightheaded from the lack of air; you find that it adds to the pleasure that’s buzzing in your veins, your cunt still pulsing with the heft of him still buried in your lips. 

He pulls out with a satisfied groan and you manage to scoot down so you’re straddling his chest instead of head. Joel caresses your back, the gentle repeated motion sending tingles down your spine. 

“That’s was fuckin’ amazin’,” he says, voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer sounding meek. “I think I need some water though.” 

You get off, legs still shaking, but he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Let me get it for you,” he says, sitting up. 

“I’m already up,” you smile as his brows furrow with worry, the expression warming your heart. You quickly bend down to kiss him and he’s quick to lick himself into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. “I’ll be right back.” 

You have no idea how you’re standing while feeling like jello but you manage to get yourself all the way to the fridge. You smile at the coolness touching your warmed skin when you open the door. Scanning the interior, you thoughtlessly rub at your throat in an attempt to soothe the ache a little. You grab the pitcher of cold water and notice a bit of apple pie left over. 

“Hey, Joel?” you call out. He hums in acknowledgment. “Can I have a slice of pie?” 

His humored chuckle follows through, “You can eat the whole damn thing after what you’ve done,” you smile and take the desert out. “Can you bring me a slice too?” he adds. 

You smile and place the pie on the counter. The leftover is already two slices give or take so you decide to just take two forks with you instead of dirting a plate. Looking through the drawers, you try to remember which one is the cutlery drawer. 

On your second try you find something else. 

Something that makes your eyes go wide and heart throb painfully. 

Your hands shaking, you pick up the owl mask from the drawer. The surface is smooth, and the color of it a light shade of brown just like a tawny owl. All the pleasant tingles fade away, the buzz of pleasure in your veins replaced by fear and adrenaline. 

Heading back to the living room, you show the mask to Joel. 

“What’s this?” you ask, your voice betraying your sudden outburst of fear. 

Joel looks up, eyes flitting between you and the owl mask. He raises a brow, his confusion evident across his face. “It’s a mask, sweetheart.” 

“No no, I know it’s a mask,” you answer, breathless. “But why do you have it?” 

“It’s Ellie’s,” he stands up, his pants still unbuttoned but pulled up. You fight the urge to step away, fight the urge to flinch when he touches your cheek. “They were makin’ Halloween masks last year in school. I didn’t even realize we still had it.” 

“Really?” you ask and he nods. 

“Really,” Joel claims your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb stroking lines up and down your cheek. His hand slithers down your arm to your wrist and when he squeezes, you drop the mask. “Why?” he breathes into you. “Is this about the damn thing Tucker wrote down?” 

You remain silent and he pulls away, dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You need to relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Why don’t you just allow yourself to enjoy this? You deserve to be happy.” 

Your eyes widen with surprise, his words crashing into you, “I. . . Do I do that? Really?” 

“It’s normal, darlin’,” he answers. “I’m pretty sure we all have survivor’s guilt.” 

You let out a shaky exhale. He’s right. You were just feeling guilty of being alive when so many had died. Joel smiles back and traces the curve of yours with his fingers. “There’s that smile that I adore,” he guides you towards the kitchen. “Now let’s go eat some pie.” 

No matter what though, you can’t help but turn back to look at the owl mask one last time as it lays lifelessly on the floor. 

“So, tell me about this book you’re writin’?” 

You let out a low laugh, “I already told you about it. What more do you wanna know?” 

You stare at Joel’s back as he takes the lead, he’d decided to join you in your explorations ever since you told him how nervous you had gotten the last time. You had appreciated the gesture but still felt a tad anxious around him ever since you found that damn owl mask— 

A branch snaps into two under your steps and he turns, extending his hand to you. With a smile you allow him to lace his fingers within yours, your stomach jumping a little as he tugs you close so the two of you are walking side by side instead. 

“If memory serves me right we got distracted when you told me about it,” he says with that southern drawl of his. “So tell me again what it’s about.” 

“Okay okay,” you smile, squeezing his hand twice. “It’s all a big mess now but the premise is that there’s this guy obsessed with this woman and he stalks her and no matter what she does, she always feels like there’s someone watching.” 

Joel looks ahead, “Sounds familiar. Isn’t that how you felt last time you were out here?” 

“Yeah, and it’s when I started writing it.” 

“So do these two people know each other?” his tone drops, his fingers suddenly feeling like barbed wire within your hand. You swallow. “I mean in their regular lives, does the woman know that he’s the one stalkin’ her?” 

You roll your shoulders, a weak attempt to shrug off the eeriness that you feel. 

“Exactly. I think that just makes the whole thing creepier. He’s just a normal guy, even a friend, but he’s also the one among the shadows.” 

“Interestin’,” he murmurs. “You think that’s happenin’ to you?” 

“I don’t think there’s someone stalking me, if that’s what you’re asking,” you utter every word hastily, your pulse quickening under your skin. 

His lips curl in a half smile, “That’s good,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to be laying awake thinking about what might lingerin’ on the other side of the window.” 

“I think I’m more likely to stay awake thinking about infected,” you say with a soft laugh. “But yeah, it’s all fiction. That day I probably just got scared because of what Poppy said about Ian.” 

“Probably,” Joel trails off, his steps slowing. “How do you think it’s gonna end?” 

“W-What?” 

He stops and so does your heart. At least you think it does. 

Joel faces you fully, his presence towering, he grips your shoulders and pushes you back until the air is knocked from your lungs by a tree right behind you. Your eyes go wide. He leans in, breath tickling your lips. 

“How do you think your book is gonna end, sweetheart?” he asks again, eyes gleaming with something dark. “Is the guy gonna get the girl?” 

“I—I don’t know.” 

All you can think about is the owl mask and how it would perfectly fit his face. He cocks his head and taking a step closer, he slips a leg between your thighs. Slick gathers at your underwear—he feels the fabric dampening on his leg and grins. 

“Fear turns you on doesn’t it?” he purrs. “Wicked thing.” 

Relief drowns your senses. So that’s why he got all weird suddenly, he’s just teasing you. With a laugh, your head falls back against the tree trunk, “Jesus Joel, you scared the shit out of me.” 

“It ain’t my fault,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re easy to scare.” 

“Well, two brutal unsolvable murders will do that to a girl.” 

Joel lets go and pulls away, smiling as he shakes his head, “What’s it gonna take for you to believe I had nothin’ to do with those? Even in death, Tucker causes nothin’ but fuckin’ trouble for me.” 

“You don’t need to do anything, I’m sorry,” you pull him back, relishing in the way his strong arms wrap around your frame. “I’ll stop being such a chicken, promise. I’m still a bit jittery that’s all.” 

“I forgive you,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before pulling you away from the thick trunk of the tree. “Now let’s find a place to settle down for the night.” 

When you two return to Jackson three days later, the first thing you notice is the crowd. Your stomach drops at the familiar sight and instinctively you reach out to Joel, lacing your fingers together. He squeezes your hand two times. 

The last thing you should be feeling is relief that now it’s not possible for Joel to be the one killing all those people but alas, that’s all you feel. Relief and love. 

The trade fair sprawls before you. Stalls with makeshift awnings, tattered banners, and worn tarps create a patchwork quilt of colors, beneath which a diverse array of goods is proudly displayed. The air is thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the tang of cured leather, and the earthy aroma of herbs. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional clinking of metal form a lively symphony, a chorus of life that drowns out the ever-present background hum of death and infection.

You’ve always enjoyed the time of the trade fair. People move like busy ants, weaving between the stalls. Children, their cheeks dusted with earth, dart through the crowd, their carefree laughter that should be comforting doing the opposite. Since Tina’s death— she was one of the council members— you had been sleeping at Joel’s. Neither he nor Ellie seemed to mind you staying there. 

The purpose of the fair is to exchange goods – to exchange, to connect, to share stories of survival.

Your eyes scan the crowd for Joel's familiar silhouette. He and Ellie had headed out before you since you wanted a change of clothes. Just as your gaze begins to falter, a voice reaches your ears. "Hey!" It's Poppy, she waves you over.

You navigate your way through the bustling stalls until you stand before Poppy. She's leaning against a rough-hewn post, a glint of excitement in her eyes. 

“Hey, Poppy,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m looking for Joel, or Ellie, have you seen either of them?”

“Well, Ellie is with Dina, hanging out,” She points to the forest that skirts the settlement. "I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you later then,” Waving her off, you head after Joel. 

The trees are a bit more scarce here, there’s more room between them. The forest opens up, revealing a sprawling expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. It's a stark contrast to the dense woods you often travel to, where the trees stand like guardians, their branches interlocking in a tapestry of shadow and light. Here, the gaps between the trees create pockets of sunlight that dapple the forest floor. 

However, the expanses between trees can be deceiving, and without the markers and familiarity of the well-trodden paths closer to home, it's easy to lose your way. 

For some reason instead of calling out for Joel, you decide to wander aimlessly. You’re not sure why. You don’t come to this side of Jackson often enough to feel comfortable with your surroundings and shouting his name would definitely be easier than walking without aim. 

Soon enough you hear faint murmuring beckoning you deeper into the forest. 

Survival instincts kicking in, you slow down your steps, making sure to step onto clear dirt instead of gravel or fallen branches. Hiding behind a rather large tree trunk, you stare ahead. In the distance, you see two men: one with his back against the tree, while the other holds him by the neck, the sharp blade of his knife catching the sunlight and reflecting it directly into your eyes.

You hold your breath and your eyes go wide. You hear the thrum of your heart. It’s the killer. It has to be. 

You can’t quite hear them but you can decipher the tone of begging for one's life. The man holding the knife tilts his head slightly, your mouth waters at the prospect of finally seeing the murderer's face—

It’s the mask. 

The same mask you found in Joel’s home in the shape of an owl. Your stomach churns violently, bile raising to your throat as you watch on. You rub at your eyes, take deep breaths—anything you can think of that would erase the image before you. 

Goosebumps raising across your skin, you shake your head. It can’t be Joel. He was with you the day Tina died and no matter how competent he was not even he could be at two places at once. 

A muffled scream echoes within the forest and your eyes snap to the two men, the owl had driven his knife into the flesh and bone. He pulls it out, and the body falls. You recognize who it is; Jacob. You heard his name a couple of days ago from Ellie, he was bothering both her and Dina because they were hanging out. 

He’s still alive when the killer stomps his head in, blood splattering across the leys. 

You’re frozen in place. Your throat dry and tongue motionless. The killer kicks Jacob one last time for good measure and finally stops. You observe the way his shoulders drop as if a great weight had been lifted off of them, then he looks up into the sky, the golden sun highlighting his mask. 

Very slowly, he lifts his hand and takes it off. 

Every feeling comes rushing back, too fast and too soon. Your tongue is alive again and so is your body, the world is suddenly vibrant with life and horror. The sun continues to caress the countenance of the unmasked killer’s face, his sunkissed skin the perfect canvas to soak up the light. 

Joel. 

You take a step back, every thought of precaution dropping from your mind. The forest starts to spin. It spins and spins and spins until the ground slips from beneath your feet. You catch yourself at the very last second. 

When you look up you see his gaze staring directly into yours. 

“Fuck,” you hiss out, quickly staggering up. The last thing you see before you start running is his extended hand as he tries to reach out for you. 

“Wait!” 

You don’t. You do the exact opposite of that. You run. You run for your life and those in Jackson at the fair. 

You run with memories loud in your mind. How Joel had listened to you, comforted you, fucked you—

Tears sting your eyes. Every part of this feels like a nightmare that you hope to wake up from anytime soon. But as the wind hits your skin, you know that every part of this is very much real. Your chest burns from how fast you’re going, your legs starting to falter underneath you. 

Before you can react, an unexpected force slams into you. The impact sends shockwaves through your body as you collide with something—or is it someone?—their presence as jarring as the jolt itself. Your momentum falters, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to slow as you stumble, desperately trying to regain your balance.

Two arms grab at you and without even seeing who it is, you start to push the person away, fighting against it like a wild animal. 

“Let go of me! Let go of me!” 

“Hey hey hey,” you hear a familiar voice repeat. “It’s me, you’re okay,” you’re shaking all around, only when you feel his hands cradle your cheeks do you open your eyes. He smiles when he sees your eyes flicker in recognition. 

“Tommy?” you whisper. He nods and without a thought you jump him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. His arms coil around you in response, promising to not let go. “Oh, thank fuck it’s you.” 

“What happened? Are you alright?” 

“I—I am okay but—Joel—It’s Joel, Tommy he’s been the one behind all those murders. We need to warn everyone, we need to tell Maria!” 

You grab his arm and tug him along toward what you assume is the right way out of the forest. He remains still. Turning around, you shoot him a confused glance. 'Tommy, we need to tell people.'

“Can’t let you do that sugar, sorry.” 

“Why. . . Why not?” you let go and slowly step back, heart pounding. “Is it because he’s your brother?” 

You wish that was his excuse. Some moral obligation towards Joel because he’s his brother, that you can relate to. Your heart still pounds for Joel and in your brain, you’re still desperately seeking an explanation. 

But Tommy allows the silence to linger, your fear and worry quickly turning into anger. 

“Fine, I’ll tell them. It’s wrong.” 

It only takes a blink of an eye; you feel Tommy’s iron grip around your wrist, yanking you back into his chest. He holds you. Oddly tender for someone who had made your arm nearly fall out of its socket. You thrash within his arms, pulling and hitting his chest. 

“We’re doing good,” he grunts. “You gotta see that.” 

You refuse to listen, your ear narrowing on the sound of your own blood rush instead of his words. By some miracle, you manage to slip your arm out and punch him square in the chin. It was a weak punch but strong enough to startle Tommy. 

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, calm the fuck down—” he tucks your arm back against your body and turns you around so your back is flush against his chest. You’re breathing raggedly, chest rising with every deep gulp of air. His lips touch your ear, his tone menacing, “I really wish you would’ve not done that.” 

“Why?” you gasp. “You’re gonna kill me too?” 

Silence follows, and with every passing moment sweat beads on your forehead, “It was you wasn’t it?” you continue. “You killed Tina. Joel only came along with me to calm my suspicions.” 

Before Tommy can confirm your suspicions, you notice movement within the forest and your eyes are immediately drawn to the shadow coming forth.  

“Smart girl,” Joel remarks with a half smile as he emerges from between the trees. There’s a splatter of red over his shirt but the knife seems to be tucked away. For now. “But you’re only half right, darlin’. I came along because I like spendin’ time with you.” 

“Is that supposed to make me ignore the fact that Jacob’s body isn’t even cold yet?” 

Joel curls two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze while Tommy continues to hold you back. You shudder against him, a soft sound parts the younger Miller’s lips. 

“He was a piece of shit,” Joel grunts. “He was botherin’ Ellie, callin’ her names, he deserved what he was gettin’.” 

“So what, you guys are just playing hero? Killing everyone who’s causing trouble in town? There’s a system for that.” 

“Honey,” he tuts, an involuntary warmth spreading within your abdomen. “The system didn’t work before the outbreak, it ain’t gonna work now either.” 

“We protect our own,” Tommy says from behind you, breath fanning your neck. “We take care of it before it escalates. You have to understand that.” 

“And why the hell would I understand?” you hiss, looking directly into Joel’s eyes while addressing Tommy. 

Joel smiles, his lips curling slowly, “Because you’re one of us. And you like it when we protect.” 

Your lips part with an exhale. He’s right, not that you still agree with them killing people, but you had enjoyed that primal protection coming from the Millers. It made you feel powerful, loved, cared for. All the things you craved deeply. 

You ignore Joel and his words entirely, averting your eyes with embarrassment and shame. 

“I just don’t understand why you did it, Tommy” you murmur. Tommy tenses behind you, his arms tightening around your frame, drawing the remaining oxygen from your lungs. “I understand the other’s to an extent but Tina didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Joel looks towards Tommy, it was his kill after all and the older Miller had nothing to say about it. 

“She was wrecking what Maria is tryin’ so hard to build,” he answers. “She’s pregnant, stress ain’t good for her or the baby.” 

“Does. . . Does Maria—” 

Tommy cuts you off, “No.” 

Joel leans closer, mouth an inch away from yours as he parts his lips. “I killed for you,” You hate the way your body reacts to him, wanting to close the distance between you two despite how unsettled you feel. “Ian was a piece of shit, so was Tucker and Jacob. They don’t deserve your empathy, honey. And you can’t deny that you’re glad they’re gone.” 

His hair is a delightful mess. Soft locks going in every direction. All you want to do is thread your fingers within and forget about all of this. Joel’s gaze is observant, dark eyes darting all over your face. You don’t know what he sees but whatever it is, he nods to Tommy for him to let you go and he does. Legs lifeless and shaking, he catches you, his warmth welcoming. He’s still tender with you. Hands delicate as they move over your arms, shifting you so you'll be facing Tommy.

Joel’s hand curls around your neck and holds your chin so you can’t look away. You can’t read Tommy’s expression. You’re not sure what he’s feeling. However, you think he looks almost relieved that you’re not fighting anymore. 

You shudder as Joel drags his lips down your neck, taking deep breaths of your fear-induced scent. His hands slip under your shirt and cup both breaths, making you squeal. Your objection is short-lived when he brushes his thumbs over both nipples, awakening them with slow strokes. 

Tommy’s gaze drops to your chest. 

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Joel says. “When I had things to settle in town it was him who looked after you,” his voice drops, eyes observing his brother. “I think he deserves a bit of a show, don’t you think?” 

The whimper you let out is enough for Tommy to meet your gaze curiously. Joel smiles into your skin and your eyes widen as he pulls out a knife—a different one from the one he used on Jacob, you realize with relief. 

Your breath hitches as he slides the knife under your shirt and cuts your shirt clean from the middle, exposing you completely to his younger brother’s eyes. Sudden arousal pools between your legs and you clamp them together suddenly, the movement not unnoticed by either of them. 

“You like it when my brother watches?” he asks loud enough for Tommy to hear. “You got a little crush on him too, sweetheart, hmm? Don’t worry, he’s always goin’ to be lookin’ out for you. That’s what family does after all.” 

Your neck strains as Joel tilts your head suddenly, claiming your lips in a violent kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to part your lips for him and pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking the surprised sounds of pleasure right from your mouth. Your heart skips a beat. He presses the flat side of the knife against your warmed skin, the chill of metal settling in your bones. 

When he parts away, a string of saliva connects you still. “You’re mine aren’t you?” Joel groans, lips moving over yours. 

You nod in a daze and he smiles, “And I’m yours too,” he says. 

Your eyes meet Tommy momentarily, the younger Miller’s lips twitch in a half smile. He doesn’t say a word as he closes the distance. 

Tommy cradles your face tenderly,  urging you to come close as he envelopes your lips with his own, taking you by surprise. 

The kiss lacks the intensity compared to Joel’s. Tommy caresses your cheeks with both thumbs. You don’t even feel his tongue, it’s just a gradual movement of lips, a type of affirmation and comfort. 

“You’re one of us now,” he says pressing his forehead against yours. You don’t know how to react or what to say and you end up just nodding, your hands fisting his shirt. Him, parting away from you almost feels painful but you’re not sure why. Tommy gives you a smile and Joel a nod before he leaves. 

You and Joel stand like that for a while, in complete silence, bodies flushed together, knife still resting over your stomach. 

“I only did what was right,” he breaks the silence. His tone isn’t one of asking for forgiveness or understanding. His arms tighten around you. “Are you afraid of me?” he whispers into your ear, the thick hairs above his lips tickling the shell of your ear. 

You don’t answer him. 

“You don’t need to be,” he continues. He allows you to move within his arms, you want to see his face, you need to see him to not fear for your life. You ignore the knife grazing your skin as you turn around, your bare front snug against his chest. “I’ll never hurt you. And you’re the only person in this whole damn town that can say that. You and Ellie.” 

“What about Tommy?” 

“Tommy’s priorities lay elsewhere.” 

He doesn’t allow you to inquire further about what he means by that. All you can detect is a hint of anger that quickly dissipates when he claims your lips once more. 

You’re lost in him. His tongue captures you in a way that makes you forget the blood on his clothes—on his hands. His tongue slides against your own, pressing until you’re moaning into his mouth, your knees faltering at the knife smoothing down your skin. 

Before pushing you down to the ground, he takes off the shirt he cut in half completely off of you, your bra following the pile on the grass. Your breath hitches as he takes his place between your legs, his mouth devouring your neck, “Joel. . .” you moan, fisting his shirt and grinding up to feel at least a bit of friction. 

A silent laugh seeps into your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine, “Do you still feel bad for them?” he teases, laying a wet kiss between your breasts. 

You don’t think much as you answer, “No.” 

And as a reward, Joel closes his lips over a nipple, sucking hard until your breathing goes ragged. 

“That’s my girl,” he groans, moving towards the other pebbled flesh. “You’re too good, too kind, but they don’t deserve that sweetheart.” 

He hooks his fingers into your belt loops and tugs down your jeans, laving you with soft, ticklish kisses as he moves lower and lower. When you’re completely bare to him, you have the urge to cover yourself, the grass tickles your back and the wind feels colder now. Joel smiles and pulls your arms away. He lays the knife right above your stomach and your breath hitches. 

“I want to taste you,” Joel says. “But not in the way you think, darlin’,” he kisses the sensitive skin right adobe your belly button, and brings the sharp edge of the knife to your skin. “I want to taste the life that pumps through your veins.” 

Your eyes widen as he nicks you. It’s a small cut and blood beads at the wound instantly. He doesn’t allow it to gather enough so that’ll trickle down, he quickly presses his lips against it, your essence coating his tongue as he gives it a tender suck. You can the blood leaving your veins, a pleasant tingle echoing from the wound and spreading throughout your body. Your eyes flutter, a moan escaping your lips as he flattens his tongue against the cut and licks with board strokes. 

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he rasps, pushing two fingers into you with ease. You gasp at the sudden stretch, your back arching into his touch. “So darn wet—All this for me, sunshine?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, grinding down. “Joel, please—” 

You hear the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, his breath heavy in your ear, “Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart, I’m obliged.” 

You feel the head of his cock brush against your entrance, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your eyes close in anticipation and you whimper as he slowly slides inside you inch by inch. You can feel it, that intense fullness that can only come from him, taking his time to make sure it feels good. His size is intimidating but you feel yourself melting around him, eager and willing. 

“That’s it. . . you’re takin’ me so well, such a tight little hole for me. Fuckin’ amazin’.” 

He presses his forehead against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before thrusting, sending a wave of pleasure that makes your toes curl. You cling onto him for support as he pumps deeper and faster, hitting all the right spots. It takes neither of you long to climb the edge, ready to fall. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and his grip tightens on your hips. His pace quickens as the intensity builds, and you clench around him as he groans your name. 

“Gonna come inside,” he slurs his words. “Gonna fill you up—shit—” 

You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, his hard length contracting. As he pushes deeper into you, your insides flutter, squeezing around him. Your orgasm is ripped from you, shattering and mind-numbing. Your head spins and you cling to him, afraid that the world underneath you might slip entirely. His hot come warms you from the inside out, spilling from where his cock stretches you. 

Joel remains inside until he starts to soften. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling a longing ache deep within your core. You shudder as his come trickles down your thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, entranced, as he gathers himself over his fingers and pushes it back inside you. “Try to keep as much as you can inside.” To emphasize his want for it, he slides your underwear up your legs. 

You’re tied to him now. And even though you shouldn’t, you enjoy being the one near the beast. Joel helps you dress, at least helps you with what remains, and gives you his leather jacket to wear since your shirt is in ruins. Neither of you says a word as you walk back to where Jacob’s body rests. You help him bury the body, not feeling a single thing; no grief, no remorse, no sadness. 

You always did have a complicated relationship with death after all. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #hauntedhoedown

[army93bangya]

The Moon Goddess’s Chosen | Chapter 3 | MYG [M]

*Chapter 3

*Summary: A mate connection has been made between Y/N and Alpha Min. What will Y/N's Father and Darius do now? How will Yoongi and Y/N react?

*Genre/Rating: Mature, 18+, Werewolf/Fated mates, eventual smut? 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️

*Warnings/Potential Triggers: Talks of Child Abuse, Abuse, Non-con Touching, Mistreatment, Non-con Confinement, Angst, Anxiety, Nervousness, Character Poisoning, Explicit Language, Mention of plotting Murder, Mention of Murder/Massacre, Reader is going thru it, Confrontation, Violence, Choking, Panic Attack, Possible future Smut,….more to be added in future chapters

*Disclaimer: This work was written and owned by Army93bangya and there is no consent for anyone else to post it as theirs, this story is intended for entertainment purposes only, this is a work of fantasy, seems a bit ridiculous to say but I do not own or have rights to BTS or the members and the characters in this story are a fictional interpretation of members.

*Words: 3780

*Notes: This chapter was harder to type out than the previous ones. I knew how I wanted this to go in my head but getting it out and written took me awhile. Nevertheless, I am satisfied with how it turned out and I hope you the readers can pick up on the words and emotions that are unspoken here. I have a feeling the next chapter might take me longer to get out but please be patient with me. 😊 I would love to hear thoughts after reading, it makes me very happy! As always thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

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Fuck her. When you come back to yourself that's the first thought you have, being faced with the situation before you. Alpha Min is your fated mate. The alpha that massacred not one, not two, but three packs. The alpha that enlisted rogues, criminals, to aid him in his atrocious endeavors. She supposedly blessed him, giving him strength more immense than any other living alpha. Then she gave him her mage wolf, you, as his fated mate. She champions this alpha that murders, who seems to have no benevolence for innocent life among the bad. What is her vision? Whatever it is you want no part of it anymore, and yet she has once again chosen your path in life for you, she compelled you to make eye contact, commanded you to make the connection to this alpha with a force so powerful you had no choice but to oblige.

Alpha Min is standing about ten feet from you, who is just about being fully held up by Darius’s grip at this point. You loathe to admit that to you, he is the most attractive man you have ever laid eyes upon. With pale skin, eyes that seem to be able to glimpse into a person's soul, hair so dark it is almost black, and long enough to reach the nap of his neck while also framing his face. And what an exquisite face it is. What is surprising is that for a wolf who is said to be some high-powered alpha, his stature does not match up to his speculated reputation. You now understand Darius’s outburst earlier a little more now, but you of all people know that looks can be deceiving. If you yourself were to stand right in front of Alpha Min, the top of your head would probably reach slightly above his shoulders. You're supposed to be powerful as well, but you are short for a wolf and at the moment you just look and feel pitiful.

He does not acknowledge the person that greeted him. No, instead he is staring you down with an expression so blank you wonder if he has any emotions at all. What is he going to do? He knows you’re his mate now. Holy shit your father! Your father and Darius are right here too! Throwing a quick glance towards the man, your fathers body language speaks of his frustration and rage at the situation before him. His fists clenched and the look behind his eyes burning with intent to kill, although you know he won’t pull anything with so many people around to witness. You internally start to be filled with even more panic. What is your father going to do now that you have made the connection to your mate? Darius and him have both told you if you bonded, they would kill your mate. But this alpha is formidable, you can feel the power radiating off of him while you are left feeling faint from all the stress you have gone through today, the wolfsbane, the mate connection being made, it is all too much.

“You're Unwell.” Eyes growing wider you stare at his now back to normal dark brown ones as those are the first two words he utters and they’re directed at you. You can't even process what he means by his words to think of a response before Darius is answering for you. “She is fine, Alpha Min, just tired. The day has been long already and we were just about to retire back to our camp.” Fuck! Darius' arm that's almost fully holding you up looks possessive, his scent is still all over you, and now he is speaking for you. To any wolf that sees the two of you it's blatantly obvious that he is laying claim to you. At this point though you pray that this alpha does not dispute or is hopefully disgusted by this display and walks away, walks away from his fated mate, from you. You who has obviously been chosen by another, even without being marked, and you never thought you would see the day when you would be okay with Darius’s disgusting possessive nature of you. But the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know, and right now Alpha Min is definitely not someone you want to get to know. His entire aura feels threatening. The concerning part though is how Alpha Min is reacting, even with you in Darius’s arms, and his words.

Like before Alpha Min does not physically respond to Darius’s words either, which you just know is infuriating the bonehead to no end, being so disregarded has got to bruise that over-inflated ego. He just continues to gaze upon you, but there is a flicker of expression on his face, you try to decipher the best you can, but are left confused when the only thing you can come up with for that fleeting change was apprehension? Concern? You're not sure but don't have time to consider anymore, because Alpha Min, for the first time since you made eye contact with him, and a mate connection, looks away from you.

He looks away from you, then directly at Darius in a way that seems to say he has less worth than a bug underneath the alphas boot, before finally settling on your father, who has been quietly observing and assessing the situation so far. Probably trying to come up with a new plan, because there is no way in hell they thought an alpha this powerful would be your mate, even with all the stories of a mage wolf's mate being born strong enough to protect the goddesses chosen. Oh. Well now that makes sense, why the moon goddess would bless this alpha. The fact that you had yet to put together this corresponding correlation makes you feel incredibly dumb. Alpha Min's posture is relaxed and you can't help but think that it is done in an arrogant, mocking manner. To appear so unbothered being surrounded by so many who might wish you harm shows an extreme level of either confidence or ignorance, and you just know it's the former. 

“Rumors almost always have a measure of truth to them. Shall I enlighten you on some of those truths?” Holy Shit! How? How could he have known that's what was being discussed by these three, they were speaking low enough, and he had to be far enough away that even wolf hearing should not have been able to pick up on it! Darius' mouth falls open in shock surprise, Alpha Sharp takes a quick inhale of breath, and your father impressively appears undisturbed, which does not bode well. Gone is the subtle rage you were able to discern from being ‘raised’ by the man, when he presents such a passive exterior, you know that he is conspiring. Suddenly three of your fathers betas appear and position themselves around your group, ready to defend or attack at command. Alpha Min does not respond to the betas whatsoever, doesn't move or withdraw even a inch. Your father studies the younger alpha before responding. “If you wish to regale us with the truths of mindless gossip, Alpha Sharp and I shall oblige you. Darius, why don't you take Y/N back to camp now to rest?”

Darius starts to turn with you when Alpha Min's eyes transfer to him with such a sinister look you can't help the shiver that runs through your body, reminding you of your pain all over again. “Move one step and both your arms will be removed from your body before your pack betas can even think to intervene.” Five men appear and stand behind Alpha Min forming a half circle, faces serious and ready for trouble. His betas. You freeze, Darius freezes. Before anyone else can respond Alpha Min shoots a quick glance at the arm wrapped around you and then looks away from the two of you, focusing back on your father like he didn’t just issue a threat. 

“The ‘mindless’ gossip questions if I have been blessed by the goddess and born stronger than that of a normal wolf. But if the goddess truly was to bless me upon my birth would she just give me enhanced strength? Or enhanced senses as well. For example, hearing amplified enough that it is effortless for me to hear conversations and gossip better done in private.” You're stunned. In fact you think everybody on your side of this confrontation is mutely astounded. He smirks. “Or maybe even my sense of smell so heightened I could smell my mate from a half a mile away, even with her completely enveloped in your mutts scent.” He looks back at you, smirk gone, and you can definitely see the scarce worry in his eyes now. It leaves you feeling bewildered and uncomfortable. 

“While Alpha Sharp was relaying you with all the humorous stories that are being told about myself and my pack, I couldn't help but inspect my mate's appearance. What's concerning is how unwell she appears to be while you three chatter on around her outwardly unaware of her distress.” His expression turns tense while still somehow appearing calm. “I was puzzled as to why none of you seemed to notice or care about her noticeable discomfort. So I decided to come over to check on her myself.” His eyes have now turned frigid, the murderous aura radiating off him enough to have just about any wolf running for it with their tail between their legs. “Imagine my surprise when I got closer only to notice another scent coming from her. A normal wolf would not be able to pick up the scent with such a miniscule amount.” He turns his full body to your father, giving him a look promising hell on earth and retribution. “Wolfsbane. This she-wolf has wolfsbane in her system, and judging by the fact that you two seem untroubled this entire time, I can only conclude that you are both aware of the poison coursing through her.”

Silence. Utter silence with what must be shock before Alpha Sharp seems to recover and respond. “That is a serious accusation Alpha Min, One that only you can seemingly prove if you can smell the wolfsbane on her like you say you can.” Your Father immediately cuts in. “It's insulting and incredulous is what it is! Why on earth would you think that I, her father, or my successor, who is to be her chosen mate, would poison her!?” He's quite the actor, he seems considerably offended. Studying the man you can see his body is radiating stress, this day has not gone the way he was hoping and now he has to come up with a different plan immediately. The tension is permeating the area surrounding you and starting to draw attention from onlookers. 

Alpha Min turns his head back towards you and inspects your person with an intense expression. You refuse to look at him instead choosing to stare at the ground before your feet. You didn’t need to see this alpha viewing you with such pity and aversion, Or worse would be  him inspecting you like you are his property. That is about all you feel like anymore, seen as nothing but property. He must notice the attention that has been brought to this conflict, because his next words are much lower to only be heard by the wolves in his vicinity. “Some of the Min packs history is known by all. But as the last Alpha of that pack's son, I was raised learning so much history of not just the Min pack, but the Kim pack as well. History that other packs were not privy too. I know what the gifts that were given to me by the moon goddess means, know what purpose they are meant to serve.” He focuses back on your father with an amused look, like catching a petulant child in a poorly made scheme. 

“Did you honestly think her mate wouldn’t be able to tell who she is? Even without my knowledge of what she is I could tell as soon as the connection was made. You’ve been hiding her from the world Alpha Y/L/N. Which explains the wolfsbane and her current state, i'm guessing you poisoned her to keep her weak and compliant, your lackey scenting her enough to mask her scent, It's quite a clever plan but in the end proved futile.” Your mate is quite perceptive and you can't help but think that doesn’t bode well for you either. This entire situation is fucked. You look up and survey Alpha Sharp. At Alpha Min's words, he is looking at your father with confusion. As his ally and close friend, maybe he is hoping the man will enlighten him as to what the hell the younger alpha is going on about. Despite your jest about his intelligence earlier, you know that Alpha Sharp is very clever and it will not take him long for the puzzle to be put together.

“What do you want? You can not have my daughter, she has been promised to Darius and even if she wasn’t I will not allow her to leave my pack. So we will have to come to some other arrangement.” Astonished. You are utterly astonished that your father has now sunk to bargaining with this alpha. Your mind racing, you begin to ponder what could possibly be going through his head right now. He must be desperate in his desire to keep your abilities to himself. After analyzing your father for a long moment, Alpha Min finally opens his mouth to respond. “Other than my mate you have nothing that I could possibly want. And you are going to give her to me, Otherwise it would be quite unfortunate for you to have your secret come out here. With so many packs gathered I can not begin to imagine how they would take hearing such deception all together, what actions would arise from such treachery. My only internal conflict is would I stand by and watch the brutal justice that would most likely ensue, or partake in the execution that I am sure would be quite creative. As for your lapdog, I find that he is too ignorant and would be an inadequate mate for someone such as her. A very poor choice on your part.”

The scene that unfolds before you has you on the verge of passing out, whether it be from terror or your current condition finally taking its toll is undetermined. Darius for the first time since you got to this clearing releases you from his hold causing you to drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and begins to charge at Alpha Min. The betas all move to respond, but it is the Bangtan pack betas that advance quicker. Three of the unknown men have your fathers betas on the ground pinned at the same moment like it was some synchronized dance they practiced for months. Another of your fated mates betas has made the decision to progress to you. Kneeling himself behind you, he then gently lifts you into a sitting position, taking your weight and cradling you in a protective way. Utterly alarmed you begin to attempt to move away but he shushes you in a comforting manner before whispering in your ear. “It is okay Luna, we will get you out of here and seen by a healer soon. Just rest.” What the hell did he just call you!?! Hearing that title directed at you from this betas lips has left you completely dumbstruck causing you to cease any half-assed attempt to flee.

A hair-raising growl rings out, drawing your attention away from the beta that is basically back hugging you, to the scene developing a few paces in front of you. Alpha Min has Darius lifted in the air with a hand around his throat, his last remaining beta positioned in a defensive stance between his leader and the two remaining alphas. But both Alpha Sharp and your father are motionless as if they have been paralyzed. It is an inconceivable thing to behold that would make you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind, if not for the shock that has seemed to grip everyone. Alpha Min, who is perhaps four inches shorter and weighing maybe thirty-five to forty pounds less than Darius, has his arm locked and raised completely above his head with your fathers chosen heir in his grasp. His wolf side has come forth through his eyes again and a fierce look on his face promising suffering to the man he is depriving of oxygen. 

Darius has both hands at work between gripping the hand attached to his neck trying to pry it off and slapping at the alphas arm attempting to break the hold. He has panic in his eyes and you wonder if this alpha, your fated mate, is about to kill him in front of all these packs. But Darius changes his efforts realizing due to the height difference just how close he is to the alphas body that has him hoisted in the air. He draws his right leg back with the intent to drive it into Alpha Min’s body, hopefully landing a blow that will cause the alpha to release him. But the now proven blessed alpha is quicker, right when Darius’s leg is drawn back as far as it can go and before he can propel it forward, Alpha Min swings his body and the arm that he is using to restrain Darius and launches him toward your father. 

Darius lands right at your fathers' feet and begins coughing with quick attempted inhales while clutching his neck. The man that has done his part in tormenting you for the last few years is curled on the ground looking as pitiful as he always tried to make you feel. Your father is glaring at Alpha Min with a look full of hatred. The younger alpha composes himself and looks to you in the arms of his beta before examining the rest of the situation at hand. At his nod the three betas that have been subduing your fathers' wolves release them and immediately two of them come over to guard you while the third joins the beta at his alphas side and resumes a defensive position. Alpha Sharp has disappeared from the area, probably to find his betas. You didn't think he would be one to abandon his closest ally and friend, but then again if he has figured out the implications of Alpha Min's words you do not know how he will take your fathers deception.

Your father has been bested and he knows it. If he tries to object to your mate taking you he will be outed and most likely killed with his head spiked onto a piece of wood from one of the many piles in the clearing. If he engages in a fight with the Bangtan pack there is no guarantee that he would come out victorious, in-fact with the display the younger alpha and three of his betas just demonstrated you father has no chance if he attacks head on. Not to mention in the midst of a mate gathering, spilling blood or killing will get your pack banned from future gatherings which would be detrimental to the pack. As it is right now, this skirmish can be concealed as two wolves disputing over a mate, which is not uncommon at gatherings and a believable excuse.  You see the moment your fathers expression changes to a beaten frustration, resigning himself to the inevitable outcome.  

You know that this isn't the end of it, your father will not go quietly and accept defeat so easily. He is probably currently fuming with rage over everything that has occurred this day. Your mate finding you and it being none other than the blessed Alpha Min Yoongi. Not being able to manipulate the situation and turn it in his favor, which he is an expert at. The embarrassment he is probably feeling over Darius’s failed attack and that he was defeated so easily. No, your father is going to yield and comply today so that he can regroup, come up with a sinister plan he can execute in the shadows, and be able to get away with. All of this deductive reasoning brings you to a horrifying realization, your father is going to let Alpha Min take you. He is going to take you and there is nothing that you can do to stop it, too weak to fight back and you hardly think he is the type to listen to you if you verbally refuse. 

The new wave of panic you feel is too much, you're breathing harder now. Ears ringing and your vision going in and out of focus, you know you are very close to passing out. It is all too much, you can't hold on for much longer. You feel arms tighten on you a fraction before you are being lifted with an arm around your back and another under your knees. You hear the beta carrying you, the one that named you his luna, call out to his alpha. Alpha Min has been staring down your father looking for the cue that there will be no further intervention from him or his pathetic protege, who is just now sitting up from the fetal position he was in. Upon hearing his beta, he glances to see you in the man's arms struggling to remain conscious.

“I’ve got her Jimin, we need to get her back to camp quickly and have the healer take a look at her.” Those are the words that you hear but it all sounds hazy, like you are underwater and there is a loud boom coming from above. You feel slightly jostled as you are being transferred from one pair of arms into another. Oh. These arms smell nice. In your unaware state, you find yourself shifting your head to bury your face where the scent is strongest. Nose pressed directly against skin, you inhale and begin to feel your entire body relax as it sinks further into the depths of a comatose like state. It smells like comfort, like settling into a warm comfy bed after a long day. It is utter relief. The last thing your senses pick up on before you are plunged completely under is a rumbling coming from the soothing scent, and you think it means contentment.

#bts #bangtan #yoongi #yoongi mate #suga #fanfic #fantasy #fated mates #bts army #werewolf #min yoongi #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #park jimin #x reader #werewolves #alpha yoongi

[chiefdirector]

Noticing | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act One | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

The walk to the interrogation room was short, (Y/N) followed Lopez, hot on her heels, as she tried to mentally prepare herself. Sure, Lopez would be taking the lead but (Y/N) always disliked interrogating suspects. It was too unpredictable and she had had enough unpredictability for a lifetime.

As they approached the door, (Y/N) held her hand up to stop Lopez for a moment. Quickly she whipped out her phone, shooting a quick text to Tim.

"You alright?" Lopez asked, looking for signs of hesitation on Bradford's face.

"Yeah, I just don't know how long we will be. He worries a lot still."

Angela just nodded, "I mean, can you blame him."

Instead of replying, (Y/N) moved to open the door for her and Lopez, closing it behind them as they entered the far to cold room. She held her breath to stop herself from shivering as she sat down on the metal chair.

On the opposite side of the table was a dark haired man, his grey hood covering most of his face. He looked down, refusing to acknowledge the two women. His clothes were nothing to marvel at, they weren't scruffy but were nowhere near neat, almost as if they had been scrunched on the ground after they had been washed.

His sleeves were pushed up his arms, revealing his tattoos. They were mostly dragons and other types of script work. There was, however, one tattoo that stood out from the rest.

It was a snake, wrapping in and out of his fingers and up his hand, connecting to the dragon on his wrist. It had aged somewhat, the delicate lines almost blurring together. The black in took up almost all of his hand, the only colour was the deep red eyes. (Y/N) could almost feel the thing looking at her, although she wouldn't have blamed it if it did because she was staring just as intently.

She had seen it before, not in the same placement, but it sure as hell was the same snake. It was the eyes that gave it away, it wasn't something she was likely to ever forget. It had seemed strange for a waiter in a high end restaurant to have such a tattoo on display, but maybe it wasn't just a tattoo, maybe it was a symbol of something more.

"What are you staring at, lady?" he grumbled at (Y/N), snapping her from her thoughts. "Something you like? Because I can show you a good time if you ask me nicely."

Angela rolled her eyes as (Y/N) spoke for the first time since they had entered the room. "Your tattoo... Mean anything?"

"Nothing that a pretty thing like you need to know."

"We are asking in a law enforcement capacity. Non-compliance can add to a sentence if you're charged. Now, does she need to ask again" Lopez said, redirecting the attention back to her, noticing that the other detective wasn't quite with it.

"It's a pact. Me and my brothers got them. Show loyalty."

Lopes scrawled down his words in her notepad. "And why a snake?"

"Wasn't my choice. I just got it." He leaned back in his chair, "Now are we done here, lady, because I've got places to be"

"Yes. You're free to go, but don't leave the city in case we have any more questions." Angela snapped her notebook shut before guiding the man out.

———

"What got into you then?"

(Y/N) didn't need to turn around to know it was Angela behind her. After spending so many years working with her friend, she had come to tell when she was near, and slightly annoyed. "I've seen that tattoo before."

Lopez finally caught up. "Is it like a gang one? Something to look out for?"

"I'm not sure," (Y/N) stopped in the corridor, lowering her voice slightly. "Look, I'm sure it's nothing. It's just when me and Tim went out the other night, the waiter had the same tattoo on his neck."

"Could it not just be two men with snake tattoos."

"Yes... no. Maybe." (Y/N) rocked back on her heels as she considered her answer. "It was the eyes that were the same. I didn't see the tattoo in whole, like I said. It's probably nothing. I'm just being paranoid."

"We'll tell Grey, get it into a report. Better safe than sorry." Angela held her hand out, gesturing for (Y/N) to walk alongside her to the Watch Commander's office.

(Y/N) looked down at her feet as she walked, a sad smile adoring her face. "Thanks Ange, it means a lot. But do you think you could do me a favour; don't tell Tim. There's nothing to know at the moment."

"Are you-" Lopez began to say, only to be cut off from a voice behind her.

"Don't tell Tim what?"

Both detectives turned around to be greeted by Tim, standing strong in his blue. His face was hardened , eyebrows raised in questions, and his arms crossed along his chest.

"About our super secret love affair, Timothy." Angela said, quickly making her exit. She had learnt long ago not to get caught between the two Bradford's, especially since they were both as stubborn as each other.

"Do I want to know?" He asked after a moment, moving forward to place a gentle arm on (Y/N)'s. He wouldn't admit it, but he liked to feel her, it was a reminder that she was here and she wasn't going away anytime soon.

"Nope!" (Y/N) just laughed again, knowing that it would annoy Tim somewhat. She knew that he didn't need to know all of her hunches but it didn't mean that she couldn't have some fun with it at the same time. "Although..."

"Although what?"

(Y/N) pulled back from her husband, taking a few steps as she turned back to him, shooting him a wink. "The dude we had in interrogation. Totally into me."

Before he could respond, (Y/N) had turned on her heel again, moving down the corridor. Leaving Tim no option but just to shake his head at her.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Chen asked, as she walked in from the direction (Y/N) had just left in.

"Sure boot. Let's go."

Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh  @kmc1989  @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @hufflepuffwhore13 @agentred27

Tags are open :)

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine #the rookie #bottom of the river #chiefdirector

[draftsandrecs]

It's a bad idea, right?

Chapter 1: Soap and Suds

Pairing: Best-friends dad!Dark!Ari Levinson x College!Reader

Summary: Reader settles in at the lake house. And Ari is a panty stealer.

Word Count: 2,170

Warnings: 18+ (of course), age gap, non con voyeurism, masturbation, mention of dollplay and rape, eventual smut

Authors Note: I know it's been almost a month since I've updated. I apologize. I should be on schedule soon. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and series. Thank you to everyone who is reading!

The lake house reminds you of an Airbnb rather than a cozy quaint type that you’re used to. The house has a wrap around porch on both levels with multiple places to eat, tan, or relax. Tall and large windows create an open space complimenting the view. The two-story property sits on a few acres of land with beautiful trees surrounding it. Of course, a lake accompanies the house not too far from its front steps. Surprisingly the water isn’t as murky and green as you thought it would be. Instead, it’s clearer than most lakes and you can actually see what you’re stepping in.

Your bag hangs on your shoulder as you and Mia walk towards the house. You remind yourself to thank her with dinner or something for making this trip happen. You can’t remember the last time you gave yourself a break. Summers meant either working for any extra money or becoming a homebody until school started again.

“I told my dad to get us some mixers and wine so we wouldn’t have to go out much. I also gave him a list of food and snacks we like. But knowing him, he probably just grabbed whatever he thought we would like without looking at the list,” Mia looks at you as she rolls her eyes playfully. You tell her that you don’t care what’s in the kitchen as long as you have drinks on standby.

As you walk into the house with her, you’re greeted by her dad, Ari. You’ve always thought he was a handsome man, but it’s never been anything more than a passing thought. But now that you’re seeing him again, you begin to feel heat forming. Not just from your cheeks either. While you’ve had a few boyfriends and hook ups, Ari makes you feel different. His aura exudes a certain energy. You couldn’t figure out if was just because he’s an older man or if it was just his presence that made it seem that way. He seemed more rugged now but considering his past divorce and older age, it would make sense. His age and maturity, let alone experience, makes you wonder what it would be like with him.

“I’m glad that you guys made it safe. I know it’s a little out of the way,” said Ari said pulling you out of your thoughts. He was dressed in a casual manner, a grey cotton shirt paired with jeans.

“It was no problem, we made here in one piece, didn’t we Mi?” You look at Mia, both smiling at the small remark.

He gave you a small nod in appreciation as Mia spoke up.

“Yeah, it was okay. Though I wish you would’ve told me the driveway up here was hell. I was afraid of how steep it was.” You and Mia laugh at her comment. It was true though; the driveway is sort of steep since it sits on a hill. You had to remind her multiple times that her car wasn’t going to roll backwards as long as she kept driving forward.

Ari flashed a small smile replying, “I didn’t think to mention it, I apologize for that.” His eyes scanned over your figure. You felt somewhat out of place now that you’re in his presence with no bra. You’re sure that he could see the outline of your breasts even through the baggy t shirt. Depending on if he looked straight at your chest he might could even see your nipples.

And he could. Right as you walked through the door, he was able to see your breasts. It didn’t help that the house was cold and not too long into welcoming that your nipples became hard. Just like how his dick was about to be if he didn’t leave the conversation soon.

“Why don’t you show her to the guest room yeah? Take her to the one closest to my room, the ventilation system isn’t running properly in the other one, don’t know when I can get around to fixing it just yet.”  Ari’s comment made your heartbeat faster. Maybe you’d get a chance to play out your fantasy if you played your cards right. After all, no ones every turned you down before why would he be any different?

While it may seem like a coincidence or an innocent mishap that your rooms are beside one another, it was entirely fabricated for Ari’s plan. He patted himself on the back for the quick lie. There was no messed up air conditioning system. He just wanted to be closer to you so he could indulge on his desires and perversions without getting caught. The second he saw you he knew he had to have you. The kind innocent freshman now turned woman was creating a hunger inside him. He was already creating a mental list of things he was going to do to you. But for now, he would wait, even if it meant he had to endure an aching cock.

Mia shows you around the place, getting you used to the area. The first floor that you’re on is the main floor. Two bedrooms are closer to the kitchen while on the other side of the house, the other two bedrooms are adjacent to a large porch area. The second floor is used for a studio. It’s just a bedroom, bathroom, and washer and dryer. Mia mentions that Ari is planning to renovate it soon. Maybe into a work shop or something.

You and Mia arrive at the guest room after the tour is over. The bedroom is cozy with a dresser, large bed, nightstand, and of course an attached bathroom. You make a note that you’re glad to have brought your laptop since there was no tv in the bedroom.

“I hope you don’t mind being close to my dad. I didn’t know the air conditioner stopped working but I can sleep in the guest room, and you can take my room” Mia says happily.

“No, it’s all fine, I don’t mind anyway. I kind of look forward to being near a porch. You know me being a night owl, I will probably find myself out there more than in the actual bedroom.” You shoot her offer down as you put your bag onto the bed to unpack.

“Great then! I’ll let you unpack, and I’ll do the same. Let me know when you’re done so we can do something together then.” Says Mia as she happily walks out of the room.

A small sigh escapes your lips as you unzip your bag. You rummage through the duffel as you take out your laptop first. You place it on the nightstand to move it out of the way. You’re glad you brought the laptop even if it is a vacation. While you may not be on it a lot, considering there is not tv in the bedroom, it’ll do just fine when you need it.

 You gather your pajamas, toiletries, and hair products and sprawl them out on the bed. As you take your swimsuits out you thank yourself for picking out cute ones instead of just throwing your old ones in. You also thank yourself for the cute panties and (limited) bras you brought. You weren’t a huge bra wearer in the first place, especially in the summer, but a cute matching set never hurt anyone. Especially if it meant Ari could take if off you.

Throwing the pieces and other clothes in a drawer you move everything else to other compartments or in the bathroom. You debate if you should take a shower considering it is nighttime now and the drive made you feel tired. Maybe a shower will give you the energy you need.

Turning the faucet on and letting it run, you take off your clothes throwing them by your bag as a reminder to keep a dirty pile separate from clean clothes. You find a towel and hang it nearby as you get in with your body wash and other products in hand.

Ari was nearby. He kept his door open to make sure he knew when you came and went. He saw Mia go down for a nap not too long ago. Car drives always made her sleepy. This would give him time to check on you. But of course, nothing is ever an innocent gesture when it comes to Ari.

As if luck was on his side, he heard the shower begin to run. He waited a few minutes before he crept into your room. He looked around the area, analyzing the things you set up or put on the furniture. It wasn’t too long before his eyes landed on a pile of luck. More specifically your panties. Ari made sure to keep an ear out for you as he picked up the panties. Without hesitation he pressed the panties to his face. Breathing in your smell and a hint of laundry detergent you used made him harder than he already was. He began to rub himself from the outside of his jeans, imagining how pretty your pussy must look. Feel. Taste.

He found himself right outside the bathroom. Due to the layout, the shower was in the middle of the bathroom with the shower head facing away from the door. But even with the door cracked anyone could see in.  To Ari’s advantage it gave him a great view of your backside. The water cascaded down your shoulders and back creating soapy suds. It made him wonder how soft your ass would feel against his hardness. Combined with your wetness, the friction would make it easy to stick himself between your ass. Hands gripping your hips, back arching into him, his cock rubbing over both holes until it just slips in. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed relief.

Ari began to unbutton his jeans. He didn’t waste time before he placed a hand into his underwear and tug at his hard cock. Precum had already stained his underwear and now made it easy to act as lube and pump himself. He started with slow strokes but with tight squeezes trying to replicate as close as possible what you might feel like. His breathing became a little harder as he watched you turn around and give him a full view of your body. Your breasts had a glistening look to them from the water that made him want to suck and pull at them as he pounded into you. Your nipples were just asking for attention that he would take care of when the time is right, he thought to himself.

He wrapped your panties around his cock continuing to pump into his hand. The feeling of your wetness was slick on his upper shaft and tip. Along with the soft material it began to drive him over the edge. He watched as your hands made their way down to your pussy. While he knew you were just washing yourself, he wanted to see you touch yourself. How you would play with your wet cunt, how many fingers you used. If you rubbed your little swollen clit or if you ignored the aching bud. With how wet your panties were already; he couldn’t imagine how wet you’d feel. How easy it would be to slip inside you. He was sure that your walls would grip him so perfectly unlike anyone before.

His strokes became more erratic as his thoughts became more perverse. You bent over to grab a product and your ass was in perfect line that he could see both holes. Your cunt looked inviting and just begging to be fucked. He wanted to stretch you out until you couldn’t take him anymore. He knew just from his size that he was bigger than most, but he’d make sure that you take all of him. He knew you could even if he had to force it to make it happen. He wouldn’t care if you wanted, needed him to stop. He wouldn’t anyways, not once he got a feel of you. Your pleads would fall on deaf ears. It would encourage him if anything. You would be his doll. His perfect doll that he would make a mold into being nothing more than his devoted cock slut. Your whimpers and moans would be hymns to him. Your body would be something he worshipped. You would be his to wreck beyond means.

That’s all he needed to cum. His semen painted the inside of the panties while some fell onto the floor. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cum so hard or fast. Without even catching his breath he rubbed the remaining cum into the floor, a small smile form as he imagined your bare feet walking over the sticky mess.

He was already in his room when he heard the shower turn off. He placed the panties in a random drawer as a trophy and for future use. He was just getting started.

#dark smut #dark ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levison x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #dark fic #smut #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #it’s a bad idea right series #draftsandrecs

[saturnsconstellation]

The adults are talking — upcoming (soon on Ao3)

☼

pairing: James x Regulus / Remus x Sirius

word count: 3777

summary: Pandora would bat her eyes at him. She had resorted to non-verbal begging, since the verbal option hadn’t changed the Black boy's mind. “I am not going to be your little experiment on this, Panda. Now, leave me to my reading, will you?” He sighs, but it was no use. The dark skinned girl was decidedly not going to back down. “But Reggieeee!” She begs again, her voice all but a whine, “It’ll only last a couple minutes! I promise it’ll be quick, I just want to check if this works!” That was true. Pandora had no interest in keeping Regulus a 6 year old child forever; She’s curious to know what he was like, sure, but that was beyond the point of her experiment. All she received was silence and an eye roll. Gosh he was hard when he wanted to be. From the corner of her eye, Pandora could make out two figures entering the library; it’s a pity she can’t listen to what they’re laughing about, they seem to be having much more fun than her. It only takes her a second to figure out who both figures belong to. Then, a thought crosses her mind. “What if I convince Sirius?”

Or

Pandora wants to test a new potion on Regulus, but he’s clearly already decided he was not interested. All until she brings his brother into the mix, and things go… a bit wrong.

☼

chapter 1

Pandora was running low on options. Evan had denied the mere mention of the possibility, Barty had laughed in her face, She was scared to even bring the idea to Dorcas, and now Regulus was staring at her as if she was insane.

“Pandora,” he starts very carefully, closing his book slowly to match his wary tone, “you want me to be the subject of one of your… demonstrations?”

“Correct.”

“In which you plan to turn me into a toddler?”

“Only for five minutes.”

“Pandora.”

“Regulus.”

He sighs, exasperated. The type of sigh always gave Barty or Evan when they were being a bit too insufferable for his taste. That sigh was never directed at Panda, which to her, was a half failure half success. “No.” He states finally, opening his book much faster than he had closed it. Reading from where he left off.

“Oh, come on Reg!” she pleads, clamping her palms shut, “I can’t use a rat on this one, trust me I would if it worked, but the subject has to be human.”

Without lifting his eyes, Regulus announces: “It’ll go wrong.”

“Do you really have that little faith in me?” Grumbled Dora, only to be met with a smirk and teasing eyes. “I hate you.” She groans, throwing her head back on the chair she was sitting on.

“Not more than I do.” Was his muttered reply.

“Merlin, Reg. I’m not serious.”

Pandora led her knees to her chest, letting both her arms wrap around them. Her long and curly blonde hair was a mess of a bun; she was procrastinating, always putting it back up when it fell instead of brushing it like Evan had demanded of her. One day, he was going to drag her back into her dorm and brush it down while muttering how irresponsible she was; just like when they were children.

The day today was quiet. Mostly because they were both skipping their classes in the library, but it was also fairly peaceful. Regulus was reading some old book he had brought back from the Potters that Christmas, and occasionally Pandora would bat her eyes at him. She had resorted to non-verbal begging, since the verbal option hadn’t changed the Black boy's mind.

“I am not going to be your little experiment on this, Panda. Now, leave me to my reading, will you?” He sighs, but it was no use. The dark skinned girl was decidedly not going to back down.

“But Reggieeee!” She begs again, her voice all but a whine, “It’ll only last a couple minutes! I promise it’ll be quick, I just want to check if this works!” That was true. Pandora had no interest in keeping Regulus a 6 year old child forever; She’s curious to know what he was like, sure, but that was beyond the point of her experiment. All she received was silence and an eye roll.

Gosh he was hard when he wanted to be.

From the corner of her eye, Pandora could make out two figures entering the library; it’s a pity she can’t listen to what they’re laughing about, they seem to be having much more fun than her. It only takes her a second to figure out who both figures belong to. Then, a thought crosses her mind. “What if I convince Sirius?”

That sure did catch Regulus’s attention. Unfortunately, not much of it.

“My brother? He’d rather eat dirt.”

It was Pandora’s turn to roll her eyes. “Exactly. If I convince Sirius to be my Guinea pig on this, you have to join. But, if I fail, I won’t bring it up again and I’ll get you that muggle book you want.”

“Pride and Prejudice?” Asks Regulus, visibly interested now.

“Yes, whatever that is.”

It takes him a moment to think. He looks between her and Sirius, who was swaying his hips to a song Peter was singing and that Regulus was too far away to hear. He gave in, ultimately. He would do anything for a copy of Pride and Prejudice. But not without narrowing his eyes and giving Pandora his ultimatum:

“You have until Friday to convince him. If he says no more than three times than you’ve lost. You cannot try and get him to agree through Remus or James. It has to be his decision, and his decision only, understood?”

“Yes!” Pandora leaped out of her seat, throwing herself at Reg and kissing him on the cheek with such force she thinks she may have bruised him. “I’ll be back Friday!”

☼

Sirius never expects the things that happen in his life. But he always had, somewhat, an idea of why they were happening. He’s gotten detention? Minnie found out about a prank they pulled the day before. Practical test he didn’t know was coming? He most likely slept through the lesson. Can’t remember where he put something? Well, have you looked at his things? Self explanatory. But Pandora Rosier appearing behind him with a rat's nest of hair, wide eyes and maniac smile? He has no clue why this is happening. Perhaps she’s gotten the wrong Black.

“Oh, how you’doin Rosier? Regulus’s reading over there.” He balances on one foot while his other leg is stretched out in front of him. His body is horizontally bent backwards so he can point at Regulus, who hasn’t moved an inch since Sirius had noticed him. Pandora’s smile continues big and unsettling as she fidgets with her bracelets.

“I know!” She chirps, “I’m here for you!”

“Me?”

“Yup!”

Sirius stands on both his feet again. Pandora was a bit smaller than him, maybe a bit taller than his brother. Her eyes are big and pale blue — ethereal, even — and she has dark brown freckles covering her cheeks and nose bridge. She was just as beautiful as her twin, maybe even more so, though they were both extremely alike. Sirius’s face contorts itself to demonstrate just how confused he is, “have I done something?” Is his first question. He doesn’t recall wronging either one of the Rosier’s, but then again, they could’ve been collateral damage from one of the marauders' pranks. The smile on her face tells him that’s not the case.

Pandora was shifting her weight from her tiptoes to her heels very quickly. As if she was trying her best to contain her excitement; it reminds Sirius of a butter beer bottle after it’s been roughly shaken one too many times. “No! Actually, I need your help.” Was her response, and Sirius doubts he’s ever been so confused in his life.

“My help?”

“What help?”

Peter rounded the corner. He had left some time ago to search for History of magic VOL. III; Sirius quite literally had forgotten about that, he had forgotten anything the moment he set eyes on the blonde haired-crazy eyed girl beside him.

“My help,” He explained, vaguely, to his friend; who approached him with the same book he had gone searching for.

“You’re help?” Peter turns to Pandora, then back to Sirius, “with what?”

“Well…” He’s caught up in his own train of thought, realizing Pandora hasn’t yet elaborated on what she needed him to do. Sirius most likely wouldn’t mind; Pandora was one of the nicest and possibly most interesting people Sirius had ever met. She was intriguing but also awfully simple; her morals were all based more on kindness and selflessness than logic, and sometimes Sirius wonders how one Regulus Black — selfish and manipulative Regulus Black — would associate with her of all people.

He turns to her at the same time Peter does, “Uh…”

Pandora’s smile got impossibly wide, and the sound that came with the fidgeting of her silver bracelets was near maddening, “I need you to be my subject on this project I’m working on.” She blurted out, almost too fast for Sirius to comprehend. Almost.

“I-“ Sirius opened his mouth once, twice, then shut it again. He whipped his head to look at his mate, who coincidentally had done the same with him.

Alright. Maybe he did mind.

“Excuse me?”

He was sure he had heard it wrong. He had to have heard it wrong. Subject? Him? What ever may have made her think, even for a second, he’d accept? Alright, maybe he did jump head first into dangerous situations and perhaps doing months of research and work to figure out how to illegally become an Animagi proved that point. But willingly taking one of Pandora’s potions was like playing quidditch without gear while blindfolded and under the imperius curse. You’re submitted to unbelievable circumstances, without knowledge to be of any use and completely out of yourself. He’d done it before and, Merlin, what he’d do to erase that experience.

For a second, her smile falters, but she puts it right back on for the big announcement: “I need you to take a potion I brewed.”

“Absolutely not!” Sirius all but shouted.

Beside him, Peter muttered something in between rushed laughs and ran off. Traitor, Sirius thought, but he’d have to deal with that later because Pandora’s face falls so fast Sirius could blindly believe he’s killed Evan. “What? Why?!” She asks, genuine sadness irradiating from her voice. Oh, now she’s making him feel bad; goddamn it.

“Dora- may I call you Dora?” She frowns and tries to reply, but Sirius doesn’t wait that long, “Dora, look. You’re a brilliant witch, and even more of a brilliant woman. And that’s the problem, you see- it’s not you or your work. It’s just that I believe I’m not qualified enough for the job. I’ll put in a word with James and Remus for you, though. Promise.”

Pandora looks at him like he’d just kicked a puppy and told her she was a disgrace to her father’s name. So he takes it as his sign to leave. It’s not like he remembers why he’s there in the first place anymore anyway.

“Sorry, Dora! See you around sometime!”

“But-“ The beautiful blonde girl tries to grasp his attention, but he’s already out the door and off to wherever the rest of his other friends are.

☼

“She wanted my help! Out of all people! Can you believe that Prongs?” Sirius sat on his usual spot on the table; stuffing his face full with the food in his plate as he explained, rather appalled, the situation he’s been exposed to in the library earlier today. “And then Pete-” he turns to punch the smaller boy, not too strong as to not actually hurt him. “-left me! you traitor!”

Peter, who was half way from finishing his drink, lets out a muffled yelp before cleaning his mouth with his wrist, “Oi!” He calls, laughing, “It’s not my fault! She wanted your help! Remember?”

“Well, you could’ve at least stayed for extra support, Wormtail.” James replies from his chair, smiling while taking a bite of whatever was on his fork. Sirius lifts both his arms, stretching them to point at the darker boy.

“Thank you! This is why Prongs is my favourite.” He confesses, only half joking.

From directly beside him, Remus cries, turning quickly to face him, “Oi!” A frown formed on his forehead as his lips began to make a slight pout.

“After you, Moony. Always after you.”

Marlene reached for a piece of grilled potato on his plate, Sirius let her. “So what happened later anyway?” She asks, mouth full of her stolen meal as she leans over her crossed arms.

“I told her no, said I put in a good word with Remus and James, though.”

“I’m good.” Says James, laughing loudly.

“Hard pass.” Remus replied right after, a grimace on his face. Everyone burst out laughing at that. James took the opportunity to try and take another one of Sirius’s potatoes. The long haired boy fought this time, grabbing his own fork and hitting James’s with it, forcing the other to retreat, laughing.

“You lot cannot leave my food, ye?” He let out, blowing a strand of hair that escaped his messy bun. Remus, on his right, noticed this a little too quickly; the taller boy put down his cutlery to fix his boyfriend’s hair.

“Can you ever do your hair like a normal person?” Remus grumbled, putting it back up, using the hair tie he had kept on his own wrist the whole day for when something like this happened. Removing Sirius’s wand, handing it to him.

Everyone seemingly ignores this, instead Lily asks “What was the potion for? maybe I could help.” Her beautifully painted nails were visible as she used her hand to cover her full mouth as she spoke. She was beside Remus, so Sirius had to bend forward to see her.

He shrugs, “Dunno, didn’t let her finish.”

“Sirius Orion Black!” James exclaims in a high pitched tone that resembles his mother. He stands up and leans forward over the table to give a hard tug at Sirius’s ear lobe, causing the other boy to hiss in pain. “That is no way to treat a woman!”

“OW! but-“

“He’s right, Sirius,” Mary, who is sitting in front of Lily and beside James, steps in. She doesn’t give him much of a glance when she continues, “Did you truly just… run off?” Mary questions, cutting a slice of her beef and placing it in her mouth gracefully.

Sirius watches everyone around him turn to face him, expecting an answer (even some other people, who have been eavesdropping). He feels his skin from his face all the way to his neck burn in embarrassment. “Well, when you put it like that-“ he mumbles, right hand on his aching earlobe. As if planned, everyone (including the eavesdropping students) let out a collective groan. Some even go as far as face slapping.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic!” He says, loud and clear so he’d be heard. “She came to me with a favor, I denied! It’s not that big of a deal, people! I’m sure she didn’t even care!”

~

“He ran away!” Hisses Pandora, meanwhile, at the slytherin table. “He didn’t even stay to hear what potion! What a fucking-“

“Don’t beat yourself about it, Panda,” From her right side, Regulus had a big smile on.“He’s always been something of a coward.”

“You also said no.”

“But he didn’t run, did he?” Was Evan’s turn to speak, quickly taking his friend's side and defending him. “I mean, he did say no, but he didn’t run away from the proposition.” Her brother bit down on his fork, dragging in between his lips. Barty, beside him, gawked at that far too long for Pandora’s liking.

“I suppose…” was her only response as she forced her eyes away, and onto her untouched plate. She hadn’t even as much as taken a single bite out of it; after her failure today, her appetite had fled along with the midnight black curls of Sirius Black.

“You can’t let that ruin your mood, Dora,'' a smooth voice spoke from the side that wasn’t occupied by Regulus. Dorcas was braiding her newly brushed hair, making sure not to make the braids too small or tight. “Why don’t you eat a bit to relax? You always get caught up with your potions, you need to take more care of yourself.”

“But Dory-“

“I’ll have Barty feed you again.”

There was no more complaining. Pandora took a few bites out of her meal, then a sip out of her water, all while shooting a harsh glare at the back of Sirius’s head.

Obviously, her subject didn’t have to be Regulus or Sirius. It didn’t need to be anyone in specific, and she was sure if she’d only take the time to ask Lily, the ginger would accept in a heartbeat. But Dora couldn’t even get in the ratio of three feet before dissolving into giggles and running away; so there was that. But now, her pride had taken a beating. And Pandora wasn’t even the prideful one, it had always been Evan. Which explains his sorting into Slytherin, and hers into Ravenclaw.

Somehow the black haired Gryffindor had offended her, and not even she understood why; after all, he wasn’t the only one who had denied her request. All her friends had done it, which was precisely what led her to this situation in the first place. So why did she feel a tinge of shame and anger every time Sirius threw his head back in laughter? Why was she so upset? Had this feeling surged when he said no, or when he ran?

“Pandora, you’re starting to look psychotic,” said Barty, whose lips were upturned in a smile that made Panda wary, “I don’t mind, of course, but you’ll burn a hole through his nape if you don’t stop.”

“He ran!” Repeated Dora, obviously still upset, but this time in a grunt. She aggressively picked up some spinach and led it to her mouth, slowly chewing on it, then swallowing it with more water. “He didn’t even hear what I had to say!”

Evan, sitting directly in front of her, crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side. Brows furrowed as he threw her a question, “Well, what about reverse psychology?”

“Reverse what?”

Evan straightened his posture with a wicked smirk, one Dora has always admired. The first time she remembers her brother smiling like that was when they were 8. Evan had an absurd idea on how to jump through their house's second story window without getting hurt, and when she asked how, that was when he gave her this wicked, malicious half smile. Crooked and missing teeth showing.

The missing teeth were replaced by new ones, of course, but that did little to change the feature that made him so particular.

“Psychology. It’s a muggle thing. You mess with the mind without using magic.”

Barty’s mouth went agape, “You can do that!?” He exclaimed, both palms on the table, elbows bent as if he were about to abruptly stand.

“Yes. And actually, it’s fairly simple. You convince the other person that what you’re suggesting is a bad idea, then you’ll have them thinking about it. And everyone, especially Sirius, likes to do things that are a bad idea. So ultimately, he’ll give in.” Once Evan was done, he had Pandora and Barty with their James’s slack on the floor, Dorcas smirking; mildly impressed, and Regulus, always the negative and skeptical Regulus, rolls his eyes violently, “That doesn’t work,” he announces, looking back down to the food he was meticulously cutting, “there’s no way it’ll work.”

“You’re right, it won’t.”

Regulus pauses, looking at Evan with an eyebrow raised.“What?” He asks, just as confused as everyone else.

Pandora frowns; looking in between the two boys, who are seated diagonally across from each other. Evan props his chin on his palm, elbow on the table to support him as he looks Regulus dead in the eyes and repeats, “you’re right, Reg. It won’t work.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do, really.” Evan sits straight, eyes so relaxed it's unnerving. “I suppose now that I do think about it, it’s not that good of a theory. I mean, there is no way something that powerful isn’t moved by magic.”

From the corner of her eye, Panda see’s Regulus move uncomfortably in his seat, placing his silverware down and intertwined his fingers, “I didn’t say that-“

Evan interrupts, “I mean… it’s kind of like the stars, if you think of it. They’re magical and-“

“Stars aren’t magical,” defends Regulus, eyes narrowed. Pandora knew astronomy was a sore topic; it was one of the few things Regulus would take to the heart and defend with his soul. Evan knew that as well. Reg continued, hands still folded on top of the table, although right now they look far more threatening. Maybe Pandora should take his knife. “They’re celestial corpses with their own light. They’re composed of molecules of gas, hydrogen and other elements. It’s actually been explained by this muggle book Remus lended me.” Regulus is glaring at Evan now, all while the other boy is smiling kindly at him.

“But they’re floating around in space and they never hit each other, that must be magic-“

“It’s not magic, it’s science. Magic and science complement each other. And the stars do collide for your information.”

“And psychology?”

“Unrelated!”

“So… science can explain why giant glowing balls of gas float around in space, hitting each other, but can’t explain how the mind works?”

“That’s not what I-“ Regulus shut up, then opened his mouth again, just to shut up once more. Pandora’s eyes were wide open. Psychology may not be magic, but if it’s enough to leave Regulus Black speechless, then it was enough to at least give a chance.

“Think this is the first time R.A.B’s out of words, ain’t that right, Dork?” Barty laughs, drinking whatever was left of his water. Dorcas promptly ignores him; instead, she shoots Panda a knowing look, one that definitely meant she was to leave, right now. Pandora finishes her dinner faster than she ever thought she could.

Barty, however, was too drunk in love to notice any of this. Praises to Evan fell out of his lips like soaring water spilling from a broken tap. “Didn’t know you were that smart, Evy. Not that I ever doubted you, of course, but- I mean… a muggle subject? That’s beyond impressive.” The confession came out in a low breathless voice paired by a sigh at the end of his sentence. Pandora, who already knew where this conversation would lead, braced herself for the inevitable.

“Hm, suppose I should do you next?” Asked Evan, matching his not-boyfriend-it’s-complicated’s tone.

“Please.” Begs a very pathetic looking Barty Crouch jr.

“That’s enough,” Pandora chokes, abruptly getting up to leave. “I’ll talk to you lot tomorrow, I have something to do before I head up to the dorms. Dorcas,” Pandora gave her a kiss on the cheek before continuing, “don’t let Barty convince Evan to do anything stupid and Regulus,” another pause to place the same chaste kiss on a very sulky looking Reg’s cheek, also to quickly comb his curly hair down, “Make sure they get the dungeons.”

“No kiss for us, eh Rosier?” Crouch complains, pierced lips pouting.

Pandora was almost six feet apart now, not far enough not to hear, but enough to yell back. “Dory’ll kiss you goodnight for me!”

“No fucking chance.” Was the last muffled thing she heard before leaving the Great Hall and making her way out of the castle’s bounds. If she wanted to make herself unforgettable, Pandora might as well be prepared for such.

☼

Edit: THIS WAS NOT PROOF READ! ALL MISTAKES WILL BE CORRECTED IN THE ACTUAL FIC 😭

Okay so I felt bad for saying I was going to write a lot, but school is CONSUMING me 😭 this is only chapter 1, chapter 2 is in the writing!! Hope you guys enjoy this because I did not.

@adoringreg @eclipcesblog @moonywastakenn @barely-functioning-frog @theheartofthestar @staringathesunbabe @starchaser-shipper

[percervall]

give me love and compassion

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Words: 986 Warnings: Fluff, mentions of Danny's mental health struggles (minor and no details) Request: FaceTime A/N: been calling this the hoodie fic of dreams because I literally dreamt this scenario lol

title from First Aid Kit's Angel

---

She was trying her hardest to stay awake. It had been a long week in a row of long weeks dealing with rich people's problems and she was exhausted. Her phone buzzed on the couch, and she looked away from the cooking show to look at the notification.

Watcha doin? 

She smiled at the message from her boyfriend and typed a quick reply. He was currently in Austin for work and she missed him terribly. She lowered the phone but it immediately started buzzing again with an incoming facetime call.

“Hey baby,” Daniel said with a smile.

“Hey you,” she replied, snuggling into the pillows on the couch and pulling the blanket even further up.

“How was work?” he asked and she saw him moving to a quiet area of the garden he was in. She pulled the hood of her hoodie over her eyes and groaned.

“Rich people are just the absolute worst sometimes,” she muttered. Daniel laughed at that. He allowed her to rant about how it had been non-stop dealing with entitlement today and how her colleagues were sometimes just as bad as her clients because they had grown up in similar circles. When she brought up the almost daily urge to quit her job, he was quick to reassure her he would support her no matter what she decided. It was one of the things she loved about Daniel: he would always offer her support but ultimately left her to make her own decisions. 

She watched him interact with some of his friends off camera. Seeing him so free and with a constant smile made her heart so very happy. The last two years had been tough on him and there was a moment where she feared she’d lose him to the darkness of his thoughts for good. But no matter how deep he had sunk, she’d never considered walking away. It wasn’t in either of their natures to give up when things got tough. Instead she’d been there, always just a phone or facetime call away to push the clouds away and let in some sun for him. And she knew that he would do the same for her in a heartbeat.

“You look cosy, babe,” he commented as he redirected his attention to her, smiling this loving smile that always gave her butterflies. 

“I am. This hoodie is so soft and warm. My boyfriend designs great merch,” she replied. 

“He sounds like a real catch.”

“Eh, he’s alright.” She laughed when she saw him pout. “Just kidding, he really is. I think you’d like him.” 

“Would I now?” There was a twinkle in his eye and she could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Mmhmm, he’s also Australian, has these stunning brown eyes and soft curly hair; perfect to run my fingers through when we watch films together. People always think he’s an extrovert, but he’s just the gentlest soul,” she rambled, feeling her lips tug up in a smile. “I love him a lot.” 

“I think he loves you just as much if not more,” Daniel replied, voice quieter so only she could hear him, a softness in his eyes that conveyed just how true that statement was. 

“I miss you,” she all but whispered after they were quiet for a moment.

“Miss you too, baby. But we’ll see each other soon. You’re still coming to the next race, right?” She nodded in reply. Daniel looked away as one of his friends called out to him.

“Have you had dinner yet?” he changed the subject as he walked over to where his friends were sitting.

“No, was too brain dead when I got home. Think I might just prepare Italian tapas and have that for dinner,” she said, groaning as she got up from the couch and made her way over to the kitchen. Daniel laughed at that and sat down at a picnic table. She rested her phone against a vase on the kitchen island and opened the fridge. 

“Don’t let Carlos hear you! Hey, wanna have company for dinner? Eddie is just about finished grilling some burgers on the BBQ for lunch,” he suggested. 

“That sounds great,” she said and pulled out some of the packets of cured meats and cheeses they always had on hand. Daniel chatted to his friends as she prepared herself a platter of fresh fruits and antipasto, including her in the conversation as much as possible. It had become a kind of ritual when he was away where they’d facetime and have food together, even if the time zone difference made it nearly impossible at times. More often than not it would just be one of them having breakfast or dinner while the other drank coffee or had a snack. At the time it had been to make sure he wouldn’t let the negativity of the press consume him, but today she was the one who needed someone to push clouds away. 

She had carried her food out to the balcony and ate while the sun slowly set. From their apartment they had a great view of the Mediterranean Sea and the both of them loved to just sit here and watch the sunset. 

“You look much happier, babe,” Daniel commented as he took a drink from his water. His friends had left them alone so Daniel could say goodbye before they’d go do something Texan. 

“Mm, I feel much happier too. Thanks Danny,” she replied. It wasn’t a lie, she felt much lighter than when she’d just come home. 

“I love you,” Daniel said, blowing her a kiss.

“Love you too, babe. See you soon.” Daniel kept making kissy faces at the camera, making her chuckle, until she disconnected the call. Putting the phone down, she sighed contently and let the last rays of sunshine warm her face in the same way the call with her boyfriend had warmed her soul.

#f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo x reader #boyfriend material fics

[blamin8r]

These are my personal designs/references for SMG4 because of how much I draw fan art for it. You can tell which ones are my absolute favorites to draw based on how much I’ve changed them basically. It’s organized by Recolors, The Girls, Non-Human, and Excess (sorry Kaizo)

Mario: I gave him stitches on his outfit because of how often he explodes and gets hurt (Luigi fixes his clothes since that’s less expensive than constantly replacing them), and those dark marks on his face from when Zero grabbed him and did that weird crap during the 10 year anniversary video. I also gave him a star pin on his overalls too.

SMG4: There’s so much. I made him shorter, changed his body type, gave him darker skin, scars from when he was possessed by the TV Adware dude (and other various scars), eyebags, a jacket, IV on his gloves, and the arrow from the USBs. He also has the arrow on the back of his jacket, but I haven’t drawn his back view before with this design so that’s never been visible in my art yet.

SMG3: I made him even shorter than SMG4, gave him longer hair, matching scars to SMG4, darker skin, a cape, black gloves, platformer boots, the USB arrow, and I changed his body type. The back of his cape has the same skull design that’s on his hat and boots too.

Luigi: I didn’t change too much to him, just his shirt, a flower pin, and some scars. Also he’s round like Mario but not the “skinny brother” because I don’t personally believe in that. (Though whenever he takes off his shirt he immediately becomes a buff man because SMG4 logic)

X: This one was fun. He already has dark skin on his recolor self, so I also went ahead and gave him curly hair, a beard, eye bags, a beanie, hoodie, changed his height, and gave him a cool weird eye thing because why not. He and FM also have similar eye colorings to 3 and 4

FM: He’s the only recolor I decided to make not chubby but instead kinda fit since he’s a police officer. I also gave him a police styled hat, badge, different shirt and gloves, longer hair, a bunch of scars, piercings, and steel toed boots. He looks pretty cool :D

Minion: Parts of her design I did out of pure spite. Her body type matches SMG4’s but she’s a bit shorter, an overalls skirt thing, matching hat, pink gloves, some long socks, and I kept her mustache but just made it smaller. Why? Well, I haven’t headcanoned SMG4 as trans (unlike what a lot of my friends and mutual have done), but I did do that for Minion, because in my mind, she basically has SMG4’s exact body type, including the reproductive organs. But she’s still a woman. And I also believe that women (cis and trans) shouldn’t have to feel shame for having facial hair or body hair, so I kept that there, again, out of spite for people who really feminize her body in a stereotypical way in their personal designs for her.

Meggy: I’m not an extremist for Inkling Meggy or anything, I do like her as a human, but I’m still not sure why they chose to make her a human and not just a squid that’s not Nintendo styled. So instead I just gave her some other squid attributes, like the typical tentacle hair thing, but also some fins on her arms and legs. Her skin is a little darker and she has freckles now. I made her outfit more black and orange themed because I personally hate the dull whites and browns on her outfit. To reference two of her other outfits, I had her keep her college jacket tied around her waist, and her glasses on her shirt since I feel she probably needs them for reading still. I also gave her more sports styled clothes like her shorts and the knee pads. And I removed her goggles because I despise drawing them, she has too much accessories on her head and that one section is so annoying to draw. Lastly, I made her a bit muscular because there’s no way every single one of the girls has the exact same body type.

Tari: Her design just got updated when I was in the middle of working on this, and it’s really good so I only changed her body type by making her chubby and added a gradient to her hair.

Saiko: Her outfit is cool minus the colors, so I gave her a more pink and black theme for her outfit colors. I also made her more muscular and gave her some scars since she’s known as the more violent one in SMG4 who carries that massive ass hammer just casually.

Melony: I looked up where watermelons came from, and they came from Africa apparently, so I made her black (also because all the human characters are white/light skinned so I changed that) and I think it makes sense with her hair too because of the thingies that come down over her ears. It also makes the pointy things behind her hood make sense too. I changed her body to have more body fat and gave her some stretch marks and cellulite to go with it. I like her hoodie, but you can’t tell me that’s all she has on, so I also gave her some shorts, since she gets sexualized so much.. She also has shoes too, those socks would be so nasty otherwise. Her diety form is gonna have actual armour because that makes more sense than just a different colored hoodie.

Belle: I changed nothing about her, not because I don’t like her or think her design is perfect or anything, (she’s great and I miss her ;-;), but I actually chose to keep her as is just because people who look like her and have her body type still exist, they’re just not the only one or the main one. Humans vary a lot.

Karen: I didn’t change much, but since she’s a single mother, I made her body look a little more like a middle aged woman, and gave her a sweater her kids made for her too that she wears proudly.

Shroomy: I know there are multiple characters that are technically naked, but I felt that Shroomy should at least have a Boy Scouts outfit on, he lives in a world with Toads which do have clothes so it didn’t feel right to have just the badge thing over him

Bob, Rob, Boopkins, and Jub Jub: I kept them as is because there’s not much to their appearances anyway, minus a few rips and tears for Bob’s outfit.

SMG2: I made his body a little more proportional so that his head was at least not larger than the rest of his whole fucking body, and I gave him some excess scars since he and SMG1 have been around for the longest, and have probably been through a lot together. I also gave him sleeves, shoes, glasses, and matching gloves that all the SMGs now have. His antenna thing is also thicker because I don’t wanna make it too thin.

SMG1: His body is also more proportional, but that’s mainly because I didn’t like making his torso long. I also gave him clothes to match 2 a little more but darker. He’s got excess scars as well, and his gloves are opposite to 2’s similar to how I made 3 and 4’s gloves opposite of each other. He’s also got glasses like 2, and they match their head shapes.

Kaizo: I fucking love Kaizo, he looks so damn cool to me, so I kept his outfit the same, just changed up his body. He’s more muscular and has more demonic features (pointed pupils and ears, tail, more sharp teeth, forked tongue, claw-like nails), as well as a bunch of scars everywhere on his body. Plus more body hair, and based on a Kaizo design I saw elsewhere (I forgot who made it) but I made the ends of his hair dyed red because it looks cool. And piercings.

Swag and Chris: I love these two, but I couldn’t think of how to change Swag and Chris besides making them a buff and old. (To me, they’re at least in their 30’s or 40’s). I do believe in dilf Chris tho, so make whatever assumptions you want from that.

Whimpu: I actually really don’t like Whimpu, mainly for his personality, but also because of the Waifu Factory episode, it just really made me uncomfortable with how objectified and dehumanized the anime girls were in it, and he was a big part of that. Still, I wanted to change him a bit since his design is a little plain. He’s still plain, but a bit less. I added acne, buttons on the tie, and a shirt pocket with a pen in it.

Steve: I hate how I end up drawing Steve, but I didn’t want him to look too human in a normal way, because a part of his charm is being this weird block dude. So he just looks like a more blocky human with dirty clothes, a lot of scars, and a beard.

#smg4 #smg4 fanart #smg4 art #smg4 mario #smg4 characters #smg4 luigi #smg4 swag #smg4 saiko #smg4 smg3 #smg4 meggy #smg4 melony #smg4 tari #smg4 karen #smg4 bob #smg4 boopkins #smg4 shroomy #smg4 smg1 #smg4 smg2 #smg4 chris #art #digital arwork #digital fanart #procreate #character reference #character ref sheet

[haydanakin]

Can we please just fire Dave Filoni and Kathleen Kennedy now. I'm so tired of Padme and Naboo erasure. Both of them are important to Star Wars! And I hate the foreshadowing of the ST. The ST should've never happened at all. Screw JJ Abrams and Rian whatever his last name is.

ANYWAYS, the Jedi Order is reborn, and Luke is guiding the new Jedi. The New Republic has formed, and the galaxy is recovering from years of darkness from the Empire. What are sequels again? Idk. Sequels don't exist. I just see a new golden era in the galaxy.

If you're wondering, anon is responding to this post

Part I - Dave Filoni I will say Dave Filoni under the direction of George Lucas gave us amazing stuff-- Ahsoka Tano, Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, expansion of Order 66, the Clone Wars themselves. But him on his own? Not so great.

Ahsoka's walkabout in s7 was boring, the two sisters had potential but blundered in the execution. The BadBatch arc in s7 featured super amazing Anakin, and I did like the whole 'rescue Echo' plot line, but the Bad Batch as a TV show… I have some criticisms of it.

I like the ' what happens to the Clones after the Empire forms? They've served their purpose-- are they still relevant?' story line. It would be a great one to explore with normal clones. In fact, following Cody around, a clone who did participate in Order 66 and had his mind taken over, would've been a novel experience.

Instead we get genetically enhanced clones who don't have programing chips cause they're special snowflakes and don't partake in Order 66 bc they're special. Getting to see their side of Order 66 really brought nothing-- it's the same as the Jedi. Why are the clones turning against the Jedi? No one knows! It's rinse and repeat watered down version of ROTS, and i'd much prefer watching that movie over the first two episodes of TBB.

I will also give credit-- Dave Filoni and Favereau gave me The Mandalorian. A side character who doesn't know he's the main character just trying to make his way in the larger GFFA. He's a normal guy with a job. Then new dad has to deal with his adopted kid having Wizard powers. ME Likey. It's similar to Andor in down to earth, not life and death, Jedi/Sith fate of the Galaxy type of thing. It's what normal life would've been like in GFFA.

Third season and some of second season haven't felt like that though. Din keeps meeting all these famous people that are tied of in the 'Fate of the Galaxy' --Bo Katan, Ahsoka, Boba Fett, Cad Bane, Luke fucking Skywalker-- instead of more normal people. I do appreciate the smallness of season 1-- we had Peli, and Omera, and Karga. Characters not known to the larger galaxy, but still important in their own right.

Part II- Female Characters

Star Wars has never appreciated or loved it's female characters with the exception of Princess Leia. Original Trilogy follows Luke-- male character, who with the help of an older male character, goes and finds another male character pilot to help them infiltrate a small moon space ship full of male characters.

There are exactly TWO female speaking characters in A New Hope and one gets kriffed off to 'enhance male pain'.

Now, by nature of the story, Padme Amidala get shafted before she was even ever named or created -- Luke was raised by his aunt and uncle so something must have happened to his mother. She is 'unknown mother' defined only relationship with her son and then later to her husband.

It's not until the Phantom Menace when she gets her own storyline, that is little to non effected by her relationship to Anakin. She's a queen who has someone invade her planet, and with the help of two Jedi and the Gungan People, saves the day.

Anakin helps of course, by first winning them enough credits to get off tattooine, and second by blowing up the control ship, but both situations could be solved without Anakin. He becomes the unnecessary character-- his introducution is so low-key you don't realize the story is about him until Revenge of the Sith. He's a supporting side character in both Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones.

Both prequel movies that don't feature Anakin as protagonist or antagonist are hated by a large majority of SW fans, and usually because of the crime of not being perfect. Jar Jar Binks is just as annoying as C-3PO imo, but because the protagonist of TPM is Padme Amidala, the movie is hated, as opposed to ANH which features Luke.

Padme's fate was written before she even had a chance to exist, and therefore has no agency. I've seen others label her as weak, pointless, lame, because she dies of a broken heart, 'oh why didn't she live for her children' SHE DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE OKAY. George had already killed her by then, she can't live for her children when the author has decided otherwise. The nature of a prequel is it must narratively co-exist with the story already told. Padme must die or be removed from the picture so that Luke can be raised by his Aunt and Uncle. Anakin must fall to the Dark-Side so that he can be Darth Vader and do a heel-face turn at the end of ROTJ. the end has already been written. The beginning must fall in line.

Getting back on topic. Fathers are mentioned in The Mandalorian- which makes sense since it's about a Father and his Son. oh wait that's seems that's what Star Wars is about. Prequels were Anakin picking which father-figure he wanted to follow. Luke saving his Father. Din Djarin adopting a son with magic powers.

But Bo-Katan mentions her father TWICE and her sister doesn't even get a mention. Even though Bo was there at Satine's death, and the reason Bo left death watch and stood up to Maul. When Satine died, Mandalore split and fractured and any attempt of restoring mandalore just resulted in more fracturing and shattering.

In Obi-Wan Kenobi not mentioning Padme was criminal. The whole reason Anakin fell was to save her. Her daughter and son were featured prominently and her name didn't come up once besides two vague mentions.

SW needs to treat it's female characters better. Right now Leia is still the only one that's almost universally loved by the fans. Even Bo Katan has issues. By not acknowledging her past and mistakes and death watch , instead of making her a stronger character, the writers have made her weak. Making mistakes and learning from them and growing from them are what causes her to be relatable. So far, Mando S3 has been rushing her redemption process. They're having her reunite Mandalore, but she hasn't atoned or made up for her failings in the past.

It was her involvement in Death Watch that lead to her sisters death, and the writers essentially ignoring that and trying to hide it is lazy and the antithesis to character growth.

Part III - Disney's Anti- Prequel campaign.

The sequel trilogy… is problematic. While trying to emulate and give us the 'star wars' feeling again, all the films did was undermine the finale of the original trilogy.

What was Darth Vader's return to the light for if we're just going to bring back Palpatine? What was the point of Luke's rejection of the darkside and declaring himself a Jedi in the face of evil itself, if we're just going to have him become a hermit on a planet because he gave up? What was the point of the Alliance to Restore the Republic if we're just going to blow it up because it's corrupt?

The problem with trying to avoid the prequel trilogy is the sequel trilogy just became the prequel trilogy. Hear me out.

We have a corrupt Republic that is destroyed by an Empire. A Jedi student falls to the Dark Side and serves the Empire. A desert dwelling person with magical powers is told that they are the key to saving the galaxy. Am i talking about the Prequel Trilogy or the Sequel Trilogy?

The difference is the prequel trilogy was planned. From start to finish, no half baked retconning or switching directions (both original and sequel trilogies suffered from this) George Lucas had the entire prequels laid out. Their largest crime I believe is in writing/dialogue-- not the plot. It's complicated-- how does a republic turn into an empire? How does a Jedi Knight become a sith? How does the Jedi Order become extinct? Through War and Careful Planning. So while the prequels are not perfect, their world building brought much needed light and explanation to the Original Trilogy. It answered questions, but the answers were not what everyone liked.

They wanted the Republic to be conquered by an outside Empire, not for it to be one and the same. Fans wanted Anakin to be strong and heroic, and not a man who is crippled by self-doubt and his greatest failure is his greatest strength- his breath and depth of love.

The sequel trilogy should've been the struggle of not repeating the same mistakes. Of avoiding the past not repeating it. Of Luke not giving up and not becoming Obi-Wan. Of Han not becoming Qui-Gon Jinn or Ben Skywalker not becoming Darth Vader. Or Rey being her own self and not being Luke 2.0 aka finding out that her grandfather is evil just like Luke found out that his father was evil.

Star Wars is was the first to suffer from Disney's new nostalgia machine where live action play by play of beloved animated movies are created without souls; and sequels that are just the same story retold with the next generation. 'Happily Ever After The End' no longer exists, the hope of a happy ending destroyed with the next sequel announcement. Where does it end Disney? When you've wrung the last love and enjoyment out of your original titles? When consumers no longer go to the movies to see your new Frankenstein movie? When catering Fan Service is no longer profitable?

Disney's addiction to sequels and reboots found it's first home in Star Wars Sequel Trilogy and continues in the rest of the Star Wars universe. What is Boba Fett if not a sequel to Mandalorian? What is Ahsoka if not a sequel to Rebels? What is Obi-Wan Kenobi if not a sequel to the Prequel Trilogy? What is Andor if not a prequel to Rogue one?

The Mandalorian didn't start out that way. Was it in the same universe? yes and so by nature it makes it a sequel. But there were new original characters and an original story. Now it's become a sequel and a prequel; the connecting link instead of a stand alone.

So yes anon, Padme and Satine deserve better. But you know what? We deserve better too.

#star wars #shale.txt #rant #anti-disney #padme amidala #satine kryze #bo katan kryze #the mandalorian #anti sequel trilogy #anonymous #asked and answered #anon #sw meta #dave filoni #anti dave finilo #but also pro??? #anti bad batch

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Tav's sex parade - Chapter 10: Darkness is not to be feared (Shadowheart x Tav)

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, light BDSM, consensual submission, penetration with a strap-on dildo, past BDSM torture, past non-con/rape)

Shadowheart knew she had unusual preferences regarding sexual activities, but she wasn't ashamed of it.

As a devotee of Shar, the Goddess of Darkness and Loss, she'd had an unusual introduction to sex and pleasure. Her mind had often been scattered because of the multiple forced amnesia treatments by the Mirror of Loss. She still couldn't remember much from her childhood and youth, but there were certain memories that the Mirror of Loss, and Shar herself, had never been able to take from her.

How much she loved night orchids, for example, and the first erotic novel she'd read after arriving at the temple. The Salty Mermaid. She still remembered certain quotes: 'Fabian smashed his lips against hers and their tongues twisted like two eels in the Sword Sea.' Good trash like this could never be forgotten.

She also hadn't forgotten the first time Mother Superior of the Disciples of Shar, Viconia DeVir, had led her into the Interrogation Training room and told her to strip. Then, Shadowheart had been blindfolded and her hands had been chained and lifted over her head.

"Darkness is not to be feared but to be welcomed like a mother's embrace," Mother Superior had said. "Darkness is peaceful and calm, but only Sharrans, devotees of the Nightsinger, are able to see such beauty."

Shadowheart had gasped as a big, long feather was traced across her body. It had felt like a gentle touch and had made her shiver. Meanwhile, Mother Superior had kept talking.

"Lady Shar will take your sorrow from you, but beware; her night is dark. Only if you have true faith in Her will She guide you through the night."

Suddenly, the feather had been replaced by a whip, cracking through the silence and over Shadowheart's buttocks. She'd cried out in pain and surprise.

"Trust Lady Shar's guidance, She'll hide your pain and desperation. She's the answer to everything."

Three more lashes had landed on Shadowheart's back, then, a tongue had licked across her vulva. Instead of crying out in pain, the young initiate had moaned in pleasure, making Mother Superior chuckle. While someone had pleasured Shadowheart with their mouth, someone else had continued to whip her. The young initiate had cried, gasped, and moaned, her brain had been confused with the combination of pain and pleasure. Mother Superior's voice had rang through the flurry of emotions.

"Endure torture and enjoy pleasure, Shadowheart. Both are plentiful in life. Always remember; Even if you are alone, your faith will keep you company."

This type of 'training' had happened on a regular basis. Shadowheart had always been blindfolded and chained, always had received a whipping and oral sex at the same time. Later on, they'd added fingers and toys to the 'game', and even actual penises were involved at certain times. And over the years, Shadowheart had developed a Pavlovian reaction: as soon as she was blindfolded, her heart was racing in anticipation and her vagina was wet and pulsing with excitement. It had been torture – bittersweet torture.

Now though, Shadowheart smiled as she panted and drooled into the bedspread, with her eyes screwed shut, while Tav was ploughing her from behind with her favourite dildo that was an imitation of a dragon's phallus.

Some might think it was daunting for her to make love under such circumstances, and for some people it definitely would be, but not for her. The air around her wasn't cold and heavy, doused in the scent of frankincense and myrrh, like in Shar's temple, and she knew exactly who gave her pleasure. Plus, best of all, no one was monologuing to her and gave her orders.

With a long, loud moan, Shadowheart climaxed and shook apart while clenching around the toy inside her. Tav hummed, pulled out, and kissed the cleric's tailbone. Then, she took the harness off. Meanwhile, Shadowheart slumped into the mattress, panting elaborately. Her eyelids fluttered open and she saw the golden light of the evening sun painting the white walls.

"Mmh..." She turned around and outstretched her arms to get a kiss from Tav who crawled closer.

"Was it to your satisfaction, High Priestess?"

"Yes, my servant, but I'm not done with you yet."

"No?"

Tav cocked her head to the side in a silent question and Shadowheart grinned lazily.

"Go down on me and get me off again," she demanded.

"As you wish, High Priestess," the bard played along and slid downwards until she reached her lover's pubic mound. She licked her lips and dived in. Shadowheart moaned softly and closed her eyes again. The darkness wasn't scary to her but peaceful, and it heightened her other senses favourably. Her hips bucked up when Tav added fingers to the game. Shadowheart whined. She was teetering on the edge of a second orgasm, but just couldn't reach her climax.

"Not enough. Tav, please..."

The addressed hummed, grabbed the strap-on dildo that she'd taken off, and pushed it into Shadowheart while working her clitoris with her tongue. The cleric mewled, threw her head back, and came. She felt the wetness gushing out of her and over Tav's fingers, tongue, and dildo. Panting harshly, she opened her eyes and gazed at the wooden ceiling on which shadows and lights were dancing, caused by the sun-kissed billowing sea right outside the window. Tav licked her clean until it became too much and Shadowheart started to squirm.

"No more, please."

The bard complied immediately and the cleric just had to kiss her again.

"Happy, High Priestess?"

"Mmh, yes, very, my servant."

They giggled and kissed some more, caressing each other's arms. They lay there, in a heap of tangled arms and legs, and rested for a while.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #shadowheart x tav #shadowheart #tav #smut #mind the trigger warning

[riahlynn101]

Fic Snippet: All for One/Inko

I might get back to this at some point, but for now, here's a little snippet of meet cute AFO and Inko. Only, AFO is still a creep and really weird and shouldn't be within ten miles of Inko <3

--

All for One is a very thorough man. You don’t reach your two hundredth birthday and strike fear in all you come across by being sloppy. He was predisposed with a certain level of strategic ability. A skill he continues to fine tune even now. His non-quirk related observation skills however….

“Who are you?” 

….might need some work. 

Inko Midoriya-his current target. Not because of her quirk, though the thought of combining an attraction-type quirk with All for One did float through his mind. But because, whether she realizes it or not, Inko is Nana Shimura’s daughter. Which makes her the perfect avenue to hurt All Might. Acting upon this particular plan was easier said than done. For one, none of the twenty different informants he interviewed had warned him how beautiful she is-stares at him. 

“Uh…Hisashi.” He feels like he’s been transported right back to high school. All flustered and nervous.

“Hisashi,” she draws, as if tasting the name on her tongue. 

Internally, he swoons. 

It’s probably too forward that he gave his first name instead of his last, but he’s never really been beholden to societal expectations (at least the ones that don’t benefit him). 

She smiles. It’s nice and genuine, and completely different from the faux one he himself gives to insubordinates, so they don’t think he’s dead inside. “Inko Midoriya.”

He nods, resting his chin on the back of his hand. “I know,” he says, dreamily. 

“What?” 

He shakes himself from his reverie. All for One sits up straight, clearing his throat. “Sorry, that- that came out wrong.”

She giggles. “You’re funny.” Her brows furrow. “Weird but funny.”

His face burns.

She sits down in the chair beside him. A hand is gently placed on his arm. The touch is warm and if she lets go, Hisashi will just explode. It’s been so long since he’s had any human contact. And even longer since that contact was as nice as this. 

“Anyways, I saw you watching me.”

“Yes, I was wondering if you want to…” he trails off, watching her curl a strand of hair around her finger. It’s dark green and matches her eyes perfectly. “Uh…I was wondering if you-”

He’s the scrounge of Japan. He strikes fear into the hearts of men. He’s killed and maimed and-

She squeezes his arm, the pressure more playful than anything else. He blinks, refocusing.

#fic snippet #all for inko #cross posted on ao3 #pre canon #mha fanfiction #mha au #shimura inko

[theoppositequeens]

come on, we can't delay

Fandom: Folk of the Air Rating: M Warnings: Attempted rape/non-con, Canon-typical violence Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51081748

Written for Folktober Day 9: "My sister, the serial killer." Hosted by @jurdannet and @jurdannetrevels

come on, we can't delay

It's past midmorning when Cardan's tail twitches over her calf in response to a sound outside their door, his way of waking her up quietly and discreetly.

They've been sleeping in after a revel, one of many, and Jude isn't exactly happy about the interruption. She stumbles from bed, grabs a robe and a dagger, and heads to figure out who needs them. Cardan, the opportunistic creature, has already closed his eyes again, with no intention of getting up.

"What is it?" Jude demands of the wide-eyed messenger. She's passed a note, hastily scribbled onto the back of a receipt:

Will you help me build a snowman? Come on, we can't delay. -T

Under that is an address.

Jude snorts. Trust Taryn to use Disney songs and their dark TikTok counterparts to send coded messages. And okay, they've seen that film a dozen times with Taryn's little one and Oak, the adults miming will you help me hide a body... behind the kids' backs. But it's still a gamble.

"What the fuck, Taryn," Jude mutters, and scrambles to put on some clothes.

The address is a nice suburban house in the human world, too nice for what's waiting inside. Taryn's covering her face in one corner, her shirt blood-soaked and torn. The fae guard Jude has ordered to guard her twin sister is standing in the hallway, shame-faced. He's likely responsible for getting the message to Jude, but he doesn't seem to have been of much help.

"What's happened?" Jude demands, her own shadows scattering to search the house. She tosses Taryn the leather jacket she was wearing, watching as her sister pulls it on, covering up red marks which are rapidly becoming bruises.

"Jude," Taryn sighs, weirdly collected and resigned. She isn't in shock or crying, as Jude perhaps expected. She's just resting her forehead against her hand, looking tired.

Taryn gestures a hand towards the living room, and Jude briefly inspects the man who has bled out on the sofa. The tiny dagger she gave Taryn for Christmas lies abandoned on the blood-splattered floor. Jude can assume what happened: the two glasses of wine, the signs of a struggle, Taryn's ripped clothes, the bruises forming on her twin’s wrists and neck.

"He wasn't successful," Taryn calls, and Jude picks up the dagger before she returns, washing it off in the kitchen sink.

"Good," she comments shortly, and then more softly, "Want a hug?"

They're not exactly the hugging type, but Taryn sinks into her arms and trembles lightly, Jude's shadows already at work on the cleanup.

"I don't... He didn't. End of story." Taryn's voice is firm.

"Certainly his end," Jude mutters darkly, and to her surprise Taryn laughs. It's wild and perhaps a bit unhinged, but a laugh.

"You and Madoc taught me well."

"You did good," Jude says into Taryn's hair, softer than she intends to.

"Clearly I have bad taste in men," her twin sighs, and Jude doesn't bother denying that. Taryn wouldn't listen right now, anyway. Instead she says,

"Disney, Taryn? Really?"

"Hey, it worked," Taryn defends, but Jude can hear she's smiling. "Besides, it's not like we ever made up a code for I killed my date who wouldn't listen to the word no and I need help."

"My sister, the serial killer," Jude jokes, though Taryn doesn't exactly fit that definition. Taryn huffs a laugh against her throat. "Best not mess with you."

Taryn hums in agreement.

"Let's get out of here," Jude suggests. "And perhaps shower before you gain the nickname bloody mummy at home."

#jude duarte #taryn duarte #cardan greenbriar #folktober 2023 #jurdan #the cruel prince #folk of the air #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #tfota #jurdannet

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

This story was written for @starbuckxcarter for the AU prompt list. They requested this on 7/3/23... This was a request through a comment on the post, not an ask, hence my summary here. The request was for a 'Teslen enemies/costars AU please'. So here it is. I will be writing a much larger AU based off of this (for Fictober, most likely).

_____

Untitled

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The scene looked cozy and relaxing. A handsome man and a beautiful woman, sitting at a table with baked goods and wine, smiling at each other. The background was charming. He was pouring wine into her glass, she had just set a pair of pastel macarons on a plate in front of him.

"They look wonderful, Helen. They'll pair very well with the Moscato." he said, still smiling.

"Then you should try them instead of talking about them." she invited, giving him a flirty smile in return.

They knocked their wine glasses together and each sipped before turning to the pastries on their plates.

It was only a few seconds after they had each finished one that anything else was said.

"Cut! That's a wrap!"

As soon as those words were said and the camera was turned off, both of their smiles vanished. They moved away from each other as if they couldn't stand being close for another moment.

The man, Nikola Tesla, picked his glass back up and knocked back the rest of his wine. Then he picked up the other glass and knocked that back too.

The woman, Helen Magnus, glared at him.

"That was mine."

"Trust me--I need it more than you do. All that time with you is putting me over the edge."

Helen snorted, standing up from the table and neatly brushing her skirt off.

"I am far more pleasant than you. And what did you do all day?" she countered, glaring at him.

"Be ordered around by you."

"You measured flour and stole my ingredients while worshipping alcohol." Helen snapped.

The crew ignored the back and forth between the two of them. While the two might have presented a charming, friendly, attractive pair on TV, they certainly didn't carry an ounce of that in real life. This argument was nothing new.

Nikola picked up one of the macarons, pale pink, and held it up.

"You make girly cookies. I, however, explore the complexities of alcohol and its relationship with food."

"You run a glorified drinking show!"

Nikola's eyes flashed at this. Helen gave him a smirk, clearly liking the effect that she was having on him. He stood up. The crew continued to go about their business, rolling their eyes or ignoring the pair.

Nikola was the well known host of the show Enigmatic Eats, a very popular show where he chose a different alcohol--whether it was type, flavor, brand or more--and cooked a meal to pair perfectly with it. Food, according to Nikola, was an art, but alcohol was the masterpiece and should never be overwhelmed or lost to the meal.

"It's better than what you do." he said hotly. "Your show just feeds the convention that women belong in the kitchen, baking pretty feminine things instead of anything else."

Helen gaped at Nikola, outraged by this.

Helen hosted her own show, Tokens of Confection, baking and making confections. She was the exact opposite of Nikola in some ways. Her show started simple each season, progressing in difficulty so that viewers had the chance to work along with her. Her kitchen was bright and simple, hallmarking an bygone era.

Nikola's, on the other hand, was dark wood and stainless steel, appearing more lab than kitchen in some aspects.

Theirs were the two most popular single-hosted, non-competition shows the network had, both having started in the same year. The shows aired from autumn to spring, leaving a gap in the network's ratings for the summer. Rather than shifting one show and tired of reruns, the network had put them together for a new show.

Enigmatic Confections--a name chosen as a compromise, though Nikola gloated that his went first--followed the premise of Nikola's show with the alcohol, but it was Helen baking things that complimented the choices.

This was the second season of filming for the pair and the behind-the-scenes hadn't gotten any easier. The two were more than willing to go for the other's throat if they had the chance. How they managed to pull it together for when the camera was on was a complete mystery.

Rather than engage in the current battle, Helen walked away from the argument, stepping behind the camera, minding any cords and things there might have been to trip her up.

She didn't have to take this and today she wasn't going to let it bother her. She'd had enough of this pointless arguing for the last few days.

They would be at it again soon enough. She didn't need any more right now. Of course, that wasn't what Nikola thought. He followed her. They were done filming, so now they were basically obsolete.

"Helen."

Helen ignored Nikola and kept walking. She didn't want to get into it right now.

"Helen, wait." Nikola said, grabbing for her arm.

Helen whipped around, feeling a surge of annoyance that was bordering on anger. She yanked her arm away from him. Nikola dropped his hand, but he looked curious.

"Did I really offend you that much?" he asked.

"Leave me alone, Nikola." Helen snapped, turning and walking around.

This time he let her.

_____

The next day, Helen was trying her hardest to ignore Nikola. He seemed remorseful for her reaction to his words, as if he somehow knew he had hit a sore spot.

Helen had to grudgingly admit to herself that it wasn't as if Nikola could have known that things like that had been said to her her entire career. Especially when she had chosen it as a career over anything else.

She had been told that she was feeding a stereotype. That if she wanted to prove that women could do anything, then she wasn't allowed to showcase that by doing what they were already told they could do.

Helen hated the hypocrisy. If you wanted to demonstrate that women could do anything, then you weren't allowed to do what women already did, even if you were good at it.

She doubted that Nikola thought about that sort of thing. But Helen was well aware that she was setting an example, especially when she had a young daughter of her own.

It was not just a baking show. It was a way to show the world what she could do. To encourage other to do the same. To show herself that she could make it on her own, especially as a single mother of two.

"Cut!"

Helen looked up, startled by this direction, pausing in her mixing. Nikola stopped romanticizing the flavor of the sake he had chosen for today. It was a challenge to pair sake of all things with baked goods, but Helen had enjoyed the challenge.

"In the middle of my dialouge?" Nikola said indignantly, setting down the glass.

The producer behind the camera didn't look very happy as he surveyed the two of them.

"Helen." the producer said. "You need to stop looking like that."

Helen set her whisk down and stared at him.

"Looking like what?"

"You're furrowing your brow and biting your lip. You look like the dry ingredients have done something to you. Take if from the top."

Helen stared.

"I've already mixed--"

"Throw it out and start again."

Helen did not throw it out. That was just wasteful. She put it away to use later, after the filming had stopped.

Nikola was actually much more helpful the second time around. He lined up the jars nicely for her and measured out what she needed, actually using the mixer to whip the egg whites without her having to ask him.

They got the sponge into the oven and then set about making the rest.

By the time they were sitting together, with the match tiramisu she had made and Nikola's chosen, chilled sake, Helen was feeling much better.

She had no idea why, exactly. Nikola was still being annoying. Snarky. But the simple gestures of helping without her asking him had made her feel better.

Of course, it didn't last. Her smile may not have been as forced as usual at the beginning, but they had to refilm before they had even cut into the tiramisu. Mostly because Nikola had reverted back to his usual charming self.

Helen was relieved when they had finished for the day. Once the camera crew had cleared out, she went back into the kitchen. She wasn't going to make anything like the tiramisu, but the ingredients were there and she would make a simple sponge. Take it home. Henry in particular loved plain sponge.

She was mixing the rest of the ingredients in, humming to herself, when she heard a noise.

Helen looked up. Nikola was leaning in the doorway, watching her with raised eyebrows and a small smile that looked almost... predatory.

"What?" she snapped at him, continuing to mix, glaring at him.

"Just wanted to see what the great Helen Magnus was up to. I didn't think that you would be baking in your off hours. Don't you have a rug rat or two to get home to?"

Helen poured the mix into the pan.

"They're with my ex-husband." she bit out.

"Now that doesn't surprise me."

"What?" Helen was genuinely puzzled by the comment.

"That you have an ex-husband. It makes a lot more sense than you actually keeping one considering your oh-so-pleasant demeanor."

Helen threw her spatula at him.

Nikola ducked, but she hadn't been aiming for his head and it struck him on the left side of the chest, smearing a pale streak of sponge batter down his dark suit jacket. He gaped at her, looking at the smear.

"Do you have any idea how much this costs?!" he yelled at her, clearly not certain what to do to get it off without making it worse.

It made her feel a little smug.

"More money than it should for something you wear around good prep." Helen said smoothly, bending and sliding her pan into the oven. She closed the door and set the timer.

If it hadn't been for the bloody contract and the fact that the potential renewal of her show--her livelihood--hung in the balance, Helen would have quit the show. She didn't want to have to deal with Nikola's arrogance so often.

They had aways been rivals. How could they not be, when their shows had started in the same year and everything else? They each had high satisfaction when they beat the other in ratings and things like that. Work functions had brought them together and introduced them to each other. Now that they had been forced together things had just escalated.

Nikola stalked towards her. The counter stayed between them and Helen knew that it was probably a good thing. They had never gotten physical with each other--at least, not enough to harm each other--but Helen was tempted.

She was in a bad mood. What Nikola had said grated. Everything he said or did. Not just today or yesterday. The fact she wouldn't be coming home to her children.

Helen stared Nikola down, holding his gaze.

She was shocked to find herself noticing just how blue his eyes were, even alight with anger like they were right now.

Helen was furious with herself for this.

Nikola dragged his fingers through the batter on his chest and, slowly and deliberately, ran his hand across her face and into her hair.

"Nikola!"

Helen jerked back, holding out her hair to see how far it had spread. Nikola smirked, looking very satisfied. Helen glared at him and searched for something else to hit him with, to make him as messy as possible. She had nothing on hand, unless she wanted to put the bowl on his head.

"That was--" Helen spluttered.

"Turn the battle into a war, Magnus, and be prepared to receive what you deal."

With that, Nikola sauntered out of the kitchen.

_____

The tension rose between them each filming day, the weeks passing quickly. The stakes were higher.

After another round of smearing each other with ingredients--this time in front of the entire crew---both Helen and Nikola had been sat down and scolded as if they were children. If they couldn't get their acts together, if the show was cancelled, both of their own shows would be on the line.

Helen had the sinking feeling that hers would be on the chopping block first. Because that was how it worked. Nikola was more charismatic. He was a man. If they couldn't get alone, it would be her that was thrown out in the cold.

The pressure to be polite, to ignore Nikola trying to get under her skin, was getting to Helen.

But she was good enough for the cameras.

If she didn't know better, Helen would have thought that Nikola actually noticed and was trying to dial it back. He was kinder to her off camera, in the short window they interacted when the camera was off.

Today was actually a set of confections of floral flavors to compliment Nikola's chosen gewurztraminer. She could have made more macarons, but since she had already done those this season, there was no redoing them.

They did what they were supposed to do with minimal fighting between takes and scenes. Nikola was actually helping and Helen caught herself staring at him more than she normally would, watching him and wondering.

He was still annoying--more than--of course. But Helen was, for the first time, trying to look underneath that. The Nikola that she had initially met wouldn't have been helpful. He wouldn't have been remorseful. But now he was and it was confusing and the hell out of Helen was putting her even more on edge.

Which was ironic, because Helen was fairly certain that Nikola was actually trying to put her at ease. She put the meringue kisses into the oven and moved on to the next confection.

They didn't exactly have a script and Nikola loved to go off of it, but he was being nicer than usual. Oh, his usual attitude didn't vanish, but the things that he was saying were reading differently than they usually did.

And Helen caught him looking at her like she was looking at him.

She was baffled. This wasn't how they usually worked. But she found that she didn't mind it. That was the strangest thing.

Nikola grinned at her as he took the bowl from her, taking over mixing so that she could measure. Helen, flustered, smiled back.

Her smile was still very much real when they were sitting at the table together, sipping their wine and sampling what she had made.

"Cut!"

Helen dragged her eyes away from Nikola when this was said and looked behind the camera. It seemed that they had done no wrong, because they got a thumbs up.

Nikola sipped his wine one more time and got up. Helen stayed where she was seated, biting down on her lip for a moment. She sipped her wine, watching as Nikola walked away.

She looked calm and collected, but her mind was racing. The idea of what she was considering doing was thrilling and scary at the same time.

Taking a deep breath, Helen set her wine down and followed Nikola. She had timed it at least, so the crew wasn't around them.

"Nikola."

He half turned towards her, arching an eyebrow. She had never come after him like this. A part of Helen was telling her just how bad of an idea this was. They had spent the majority of their time hating each other, after all. This could go very wrong.

"Yes?" he asked at her prolonged silence.

"I was wondering if you would like to get something to eat with me later. Perhaps a drink." Helen said.

He looked her up and down.

"You do realize that was what we were just doing, don't you?" he asked.

Helen gave him a look.

"I was thinking perhaps somewhere you don't have to analyze and choose the alcohol and I don't have to make the food." she said.

Nikola was quiet for a few moments, during which Helen became convinced this had been a horrible idea. But then he gave her that signature smile.

"All right."

Helen stared, surprised by the answer.

"All right?"

"I do believe that's what I said." Nikola waited a beat. "But you're paying."

Helen smiled in return.

"All right."

#teslen #helen magnus #nikola tesla #au #sanctuary #fanfiction #ask answered #thanks for the ask!

[dancingisdangerouss]

For the deflowering scene in Into the Black, were there any parts you edited out or alternate versions of how it went? It truly was the perfect scene and the build up was intense. I guess I’m kind of asking were there any “deleted scenes” for a lack of a better term?

Hi! Thanks for asking. That’s actually one of my favorite chapters I’ve written, mainly because it was a lot of fun really delving into their sick, one-sided relationship.

WARNINGS: Discussion of non-con, first-time, forced deflowering/loss of virginity, dark themes

I had a lot of ideas for the scene that were running around while I was trying to intensify the buildup to it, so I did have other thoughts for how it could have gone down.

Like originally, I was going to have it happen in the basement, but the more I wrote the other chapters, the less I wanted it to be a “wham bam thank ya ma’am” sort of thing. It’s a sickly sweet, fucked up First Time for them both, so I wanted Al to go all out. He’s obviously quite lacking in intimacy, and I think Reader is actually right that he probably read some trashy romance books and watched some cheesy romance films in order to get a better idea of how to go about it.

I also just love the concept of Al literally making his own first-time scenario and forcing things to go his way; from the bedroom decor to Y/N’s outfit, I really think he wanted to make it as close to a wedding night-type feel as he could.

I think Al’s a closeted romantic, but in the worst of ways, because he’s increasingly obsessed with the idea of having Y/N’s mind, body, and soul, and is head over heels for this fantasy in his head that he’s forcing Y/N to play out.

I originally did not have Al cum before actually penetrating Y/N, because I was torn about having them do it and be done VS demonstrating the effect Y/N has on him. Ultimately I liked the idea that she was turning him on so much that he had to, erm, “cleanse his palate,” for lack of a better term, to ensure he could draw out the actual sex for as long as humanly possible.

I was also going to include some other sexual acts between them, but decided to focus mainly on the sex itself and save the others for later, since this is the Big Moment where he finally takes her as his own, so to speak.

I had also originally planned for Al to be more rough and abusive for their first time, but I thought it would be more fitting for him to have this fucked, deluded sense of romance over it instead. I think he has those two sides to himself, and we’ve seen the rougher parts when he’s physically used her to get himself off, so I wanted to steer away from that a little (for now).

Unfortunately I never keep copies of the parts of writing that I delete, since I don’t intend to use them, but most of the “deleted scenes” were of a rougher Al screwing her brains out in the basement with no regard for her pain, but I’m ultimately glad I decided to go in the other direction with it.

So yeah, I think that was the biggest change in the plot, since all along I wanted it to be a big deal for them both once he finally gave in to his desires. I cut down on Reader’s snark, too, since this is the first real moment where we see she’s really just a vulnerable girl in the hands of a madman, and is capable of legitimate fear.

Thank you so much for asking! 💚

#asks #thank you so much!!! #the black phone #the grabber #black phone #grabber #the grabber x reader #x reader #penny for your thots #fanfic #ao3

[silent-dragon]

TWST OC Profile ~ Kimon Dustfinger

Personal Info

Name: Kimon Amber Dustfinger

Nickname: Lil Squirrel - Everyone

Gender: Non-binary(Any pronoun)

Age: 18

Species: Human

Birthday: 6/23

Zodiac: Cancer

Height: 170cm/5ft'5in 

Orientation: Abrosexual

Eye Color: Green Yellow

Hair Color: Tea Green

Health Condition: Narcolepsy

Homeland: Forest Kingdom of Dustfinger

Family: King Dustfinger - Father

Queen Dustfinger - Mother

Joshua Dustfinger - Cousin

Grandpa Dustfinger - Grandfather

Genesis Ash - Ex-Fiancée

Nutty - Squirrel Familiar

Twist of Lynt Akedia from Court of Darkness Otome

School Info

School: Royal Sword Academy

Dorm: Armonye

School Year: 3rd

Occupation: Princess/Prince

Best Subject: Magic History,Animal Linguistics/Culture

Other Info

Dominant Hand: Both

Favorite Food: Bread,only thing he eats

Least Favorite Food: Anything thats not Bread

Dislikes: Anything that Disrupts Sleep,Food except Bread type foods,People being mean to animals,Nightmares,Too cold areas,Isbrand's Chilly aura,Thinking to Hard

Likes: Squirrels,Small Animals,Bread,Napping,Sleep,Blankets,Genesis's Warm Aura,Picture Books,Libraries,Big Shaded Trees

Talents: Ancient Magic,Animal Speech,Gardening,Sleeping,Being so Calm

Unique Magic: Classified due to Royal Status

Personality: Sleepy! Due to her condition she is always sleepy so is very calm,relaxed,and slows down when doing anything. He also taciturn with hardly speaking unless spoken to and is hard to hear or read what he is saying/feeling. Very affectionate towards friends since she needs help so much to do things.

Fun Facts: Kimon is the only child of the King of Dustfinger putting a huge weight on shoulders for familyline.

Among all other princes/princesses from the 7 kingdoms Kimon is the most sought after due to the non-conflict ways of the Dustfinger Kingdom.

Kimon lacks the effort to think about things too much; she rather always makes the easy choice.

Kimon goes by he/she/they. Most at the academy call them by he since old all boys school thoughts but every other prince refers to Kimon as her since long time knowing her as a princess only. Joshua says they more and most of the royal family does the same. If you ask Kimon which is what they want to be called by she will just shrug as thats way too much effort to think on which she doesn't do.

She has a habit of not eating due to always being so tired. As a child^ had to be fed quickly and always given nutrients via IVs. Currently still has to be given two IVs every two days at bedtime.

Loves small animals so often outside under a big tree playing/reading to them or napping with some.

Only Armonye student allowed to not wear the standard rsa jacket as instead they wear a big white & blue hooded cloak that doubles as a sleeping bag.

Due to customs in Dustfinger Kimon for the longest time was unable to be courted as was arranged to be married to Genesis since she was 2yrs old. This made her even more desirable for political means. Genesis dissolved the arrangement finally 2yrs ago which surprised so many.

Kimon loves to lay on/cuddle others as his way to show affection or that he cares. He doesn't mean it in a romantic manner usually unless he has expressed he is. The warmth from others is so soothing to him.

Joshua cares deeply for his cousin as often Kimon helped him out when he needed it and gave him a home to get away from parents. They have a sibling type relationship and while not his valet he often will do things to make sure his naps are comfortable.

To help her eat more things,her caretaker bakes other things into the bread like nuts or dried fruit pieces. Kimon's eating issue is difficult to find solutions for so her health isn't the best.

With his condition the times he is fully awake he does given schoolwork and reads a lot of notes or books to be caught up. It's the only way he can learn along with others. He doesn't go to class as sleeping in class is frowned upon.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst fandorm #royal sword academy #armonye #oc profile #kimon #Kimon Dustfinger #prince oc #court of darkness twst

[sharknadoslutt]

So bcs I'm experiencing writers block, I started working on this Wizard!Bruno x Princess!Nayelli AU of Antisocial because I have nothing else consuming my brain 🤪 Since I'm almost done with my first fic, I've been outlining this new one and already started chapter one. So. I'm gonna info dump and see if anyone's interested💚🤗

Art belongs to @papayawhipped who heavily helped build the lore of this AU 🙏💕

So, this is obviously a very different magical take on the Encanto in which there are two different types of magic; Craft magic and Natural magic. There is craft magic. Think wizard, witches and their entire mystical world of wonderment. Spells, potions and mythical creatures. Craft is the kind of magic that is widely accepted by 'the real world'—The non-magic wielding world.

Natural magic is very rare, very pure and very powerful. This kind of magic is either hunted and drained for power, or hunted with the intention of being snuffed out. Examples of natural magic would be the Madrigal gifts.

The Encanto is a town within the enchanted mountain range that's been hidden since Pedro Madrigal's death.

He was a man with natural magic in his blood but who also had a strong passion for craft magic. When he was found out as having natural magic blood, Pedro was hunted down by dark-wizards. But Pedro sacrificed himself to protect his family and this act of true love bestowed his them with the protection of the Encanto, which has flourished in secret for fifty years.

Alma hated craft magic after this. Her beloved Pedro was targeted and killed by craft-users because of his natural gift. So all craft magic was banned from the Encanto. But Bruno was curious of his late Father's passion and studied craft magic behind his mother's back since his early teens. He thought, perhaps instead of only seeing horrible accidents and travesties in his visions, craft magic would help Bruno also see the good in the future!

But when Alma found out, she gave Bruno an ultimatum—Craft magic or his family.

So Bruno left his home and lived a life of learning and growing as a wizard. He did this while keeping his natural magic a secret from those around him, knowing the dangers of this getting out.

Through the years, Bruno fell into many jobs and alliances within the wizarding community. He'd even taken on a familiar of his own (A rat named Estrella). But ultimately, after a business partnership ends in betrayal, our Wizard Bruno secludes himself in a tower hidden within the Enchanted wood near the Ramos kingdom, dedicating his life to a lone study of magic.

Now the non-magical world also has it's own turmoil, on the brink of war between many powerful kingdoms. The Ramos Kingdom is seemingly at the center of it. Unbeknownst to the people, the kingdom is secretly adjoined to Wizard's Alley (A gateway to the mysterious wizarding world). King Javier Ramos' royal advisor, the Wizard Lucius, uses this to his advantage and has a sinister plot of his own in the works.

Due to the war, the Princess Nayelli Ramos has remained secluded in the castle for nearly a year in solitude. She has nothing but her cat, her library and her fantasies of an adventurous life beyond the castle walls (Princess Anna of Arendel Syndrome).

One fateful night, after falling asleep in the royal library, she wakes up to the Wizard Bruno sneaking into the library to peruse their famous selection of magic literature. For our Princess, it is love at first sight and she is determined to make the Wizard Bruno her new adventure.

What starts off as a sensual romance quickly turns into intense emotions and life and death steaks for the two. This is a love story that ends a war, brings our Bruno back to his family, and also brings the Madrigal's out of hiding. So... Yeah, that's what I've been working on

Have some more art~

To be clear - This will not be an Bruno X Reader fic, I'm trying something new and will have this told in 3rd person. Nayelli will be named unlike how I wrote her in my Antisocial fanfiction.

If anyone is interested, let me know, I'll tag you when it's up! Ill be posting on Ao3 but can link to tumblr. 18+ ONLY as this will have sexual content and mature themes. Uhh, thank you 💚

#Im so excited tf #hollyspeaks #my fic #bruno madrigal #encanto #encanto fanfiction #AU #wizard au #Bruno Madrigal x reader #Bruno Madrigal fanfiction #Encanto AU

[sayurifellfrost]

Bonds

Violent waves of nausea washed over her like endless tidal waves, the tears she had so desperately tried to fight back freely streaming down her cheeks. Nearly every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn back, to go home..

Everything but her heart.

Not that which craved the return of he who had been taken from her.

Ice coated the ground with every step she took, the unbearable cold brought on by her distress raised many brows - and gained the attention of numerous individuals with a burning red mark clinging to either sides of their faces.

A glare blurred by tears was sent in the group’s direction, the uttering of her true name underneath their breath unmistakable.

.. Yet there was no point in reacting to it.

She buried her clawed nails into her palms as she balled her hands up, feet automatically moving a little quicker while little droplets of blood ran down her palms and eventually dripped to the ground.

Her feet steered towards the wilderness once she stepped off Highbridge, leaving the path behind to instead wander through the dry shrubs of Thanalan - making her way towards a cliffside not too far, yet far away enough to be out of sight from people, the unshakable feeling of being watched clinging to her.

She spent a brief moment merely staring over it, down at the lower area beneath where she had found herself not that long ago - locked in battle alongside friends, wielding a weapon of another’s making.

A deep, shaky breath was drawn and she raised her hands to dry her tears, collecting herself before raising a hand to her linkpearl, her finger resting against it while she lingered in a prolonged silence - frowning weakly.

Finally, she pressed down upon it.

“.. I am here.”

Any confidence she had tried to deliver the words with had been non-existent, her tone instead quiet and choked - a painfully obvious sign she had been in tears. An uncomfortable silence lingered, long enough to cause her anxiety to flare up.

“.. -I am–..” She began.

“I heard you the first time.”

The strident, gravelly voice coming from the other end completely cut out her own, making her draw a quick, distressed breath as it rang out. The tears that had only temporarily stopped were quick to well forth again, a sharp tremble running through her as the realisation of the fact she were to land in his hands once more fully set in, her hand swiftly leaving the linkpearl as a weak, choked sob left her. Despite having attempted to hide it away by disconnecting her own, a low, dark chuckle that sent chills down her spine emit.

“Be a good girl and stay put, kitten..” he chuckled. “You will be retrieved.”

She raised her hands to cover her mouth with both of them, a new wave of nausea and discomfort hitting her so violently she briefly reconsidered running away.

.. But she couldn’t.

Eir would not survive the night, if she did.

She was left to pace back and forth anxiously, stewing in her unease as the minutes ticked by. There was an uncertainty to whether or not the fact she was about to return to the worst place she had ever been to unsettled her the most, or it was the waiting. Perhaps none of it, and it all stemmed back to fearing for the safety of the man she loved.

Footsteps through the shrubs made Sayuri's ears pin back and head turn to stare over her shoulder while her feet came to a halt. Her eyes locked onto an approaching trio, two individuals well known to her - and certainly not for any good reason.

The Sea Wolf Ketenblaet was at the head of the group, shortly followed by Arnkel - a Hyur with the body type more akin to a Midlander despite being a Highlander, and a Duskwight she had never seen before, but wore their mark all the same.

Her heart sank as she gave Ketenblaet a much longer stare than any of the others, her limbs twitching with the desire to flee the situation as beating of her heart became so rapid from her growing panic that her breathing bordered onto hyperventilation.

Flashes of the past surrounding the man barraged her mind, forcefully reminding her of several unpleasant scenarios.

Her first meeting with him and how unsettled she was by the Sea Wolf's size and appearance alone, how that unease had turned into fear the moment he inflicted pain upon her.

That he had thrown her down face-first into a puddle of blood from an injury she had accidentally caused upon Arnkel, berating her and riddling her with guilt despite the fact the Hyur had been deserving of it.

The absolute agony he had put upon her by tearing her skin apart using a whip, the taunting tone and sadistic satisfaction which had followed. How he had been telling her to behave, despite actively attempting to goad her into lashing out just to strike her more violently.

That, and so much more.

The Roegadyn’s dark blue gaze met her multicoloured one the closer they got, some notable surprise lingering in his eyes as he inspected her while there was still distance between them.

“Ye’ certainly do look mighty different, Llaya.” he hummed, head tilting. “I hardly recognised ye’!”

His voice snapped her out of her frozen state, the temperature which had been still for a time suddenly dropping significantly while her eyes teared up once more, her feet shifting backwards to distance herself further from the group.

Her heartbeat was nigh deafening, as the desire to run only grew and she forced herself to remain, slipping into a defensive stance.

Ketenblaet lofted his brow at her, settling a hand on his hip.

“.. Don’t do anythin’ ye’ll regret, Llaya.”

Sayuri bit down on her lip, forcing her teeth to release it as she drew a deep breath in an attempt to speak, yet the thing that left her was brief, and nigh coherent - making the Sea Wolf’s head shift briefly as his brows furrowed, a clear signal he did not hear her.

“--.. E-.. Eir..” She managed the second time, louder yet hoarse. “.. Give him.. B-back..”

“Can’t do tha’, Kitten. But tell ye’ wha’. Come alon’, no bullshit, ‘n I’ll let y’see ‘im before y’locked in, yeah?”

Jagged ice spread across the ground directly beneath her, more of it forming upon her body - clinging to several areas of it. Arnkel flinched at the sight of the ice, while the Duskwight reached a hand to grasp at his spear and Ketenblaet watched her cautiously, furrowing a brow.

“.. ‘S ye’ Grym wants, Llaya. No’ th’Viera.” He spoke calmly, doing his utmost to appeal to the Seeker. “.. He’ll let ‘im go, as lon’ as he has ye’.”

A sound left the Seeker, something between a sob or a laugh, but none was truly sure what.

“.. I.. am not a child.. any longer..” She spoke quietly, gaze lifting to lock with Ketenblaet’s. “..I know.. He won’t..”

Distrust, anger, hatred, fear, pain and sorrow - her teary, multicoloured stare said it all. She knew better. They all knew better. The only way Eir was truly leaving the Compound was through death, or sale - depending what Grymahtyn’s mood desired at the time.

Any tears Sayuri had managed to stall began to fall anew as she raised a hand and brought it up to her necklace, gently closing it around her pendant as the temperature dropped into the negatives, a choked sob leaving her.

“.. Why..?” She whimpered. “Why could you just.. Not leave me alone..?”

“.. Grym wants ye’ back.”

“He sold me..”

“Unintentionally. Y’name were put up by someone who didn’ seek his approval first. Shite went beyond his control.” Ketenblaet raised his brow. “Y’were never meant t’be sold.”

“Then what was I meant for?! For him to torment, and use as a fucking punching bag the moment he got angry? To spend my life in constant agony, because I was born with this?!”

Sayuri screamed her words, a hand gesturing along the ice that overtook the area, and only increased as memories of her past suffering resurfaced.

“I never asked for this! I never asked to be made different, to be faulty– For my happiness to be constantly ruined!”

The more she yelled, the colder it became - the more ice appeared. Her tears froze to her cheeks and with every memory’s assault came a wave of nausea so powerful Sayuri nearly looked like she’d collapse. Her hands raised to clutch at her own head as she sobbed freely, eyes pinning shut and leaving her unaware as Ketenblaet carefully began to approach her.

A strange feeling settled in Ketenblaet’s chest, causing discomfort and for his brows to furrow as he reached a hand for Sayuri. Yet the moment his fingers settled on her the woman’s breath hitched in her throat and she tore herself backwards, her hands leaving her head and failing in front of her frantically with her claws ripping across Ketenblaet’s arm in an automatic response to flee his touch. A look of terror overtook her features and fear seemed to finally kick in fully, as the Seeker suddenly darted to the side in an attempt to flee the situation - albeit not getting far, as she managed to take a mere few sprinted steps before she was sent to the ground by a sharp, piercing pain through her right calf - a sound of agony both snarled and whimpered prying itself from her lips as an arrow had buried itself into her flesh.

The trio had been quick to follow her, immediately beginning to surround her even as she scrambled herself across the ground. Ketenblaet placed himself in the direction she was trying to flee, bringing her to a halt as she was much more unwilling to be near him over the other two.

“.. He will hurt him, Llaya. Y’know he will.” The Sea Wolf kept a calm tone as he spoke to her, unphased by his now bloodied arm. “.. Y’don’t want tha’, do ye’?”

She didn’t answer him, but of course she didn’t.

She wanted nothing of this.

Eir, to be safe at home, and herself to be with him.

That’s what she wanted.

.. But she hardly needed a reminder that Grymahtyn didn’t care about what she wanted.

One hand moved to grab onto the arrow as Arnkel and the Duskwight began to slowly approach her with their spears drawn, enough pressure being put upon it to finally snap it. She bit down to silence her sobs, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing it.

… I-..I don’t–.. want to.. go back…

… I don’t want to go back.

I don’t–...

… Eir.

He won’t.. make it.. if I don’t..

Grym will kill him..

Sayuri sank down defeatedly, shoulders slouching and her head rising just a touch. She gave Ketenblaet a hollow stare, her ears flat on her skull as she slowly raised her hands upwards in an attempt to signal cooperation..

Only for the Duskwight to assume otherwise, swinging his spear for her to slam the metallic end of it directly into the back of Sayuri’s skull, forcing her to tumble forwards as she collapsed. Blood trickled forth and painted her brilliant white hair red once more, the amount of it making Ketenblaet’s eyes widen.

The Sea Wolf hurried forth and dropped to his knees by the unconscious Seeker’s side, cupping a hand over the wound at her skull to then flip her over to let him inspect her more fully. The chill in her vicinity was cold enough for her breath to be seen in the air, to which he emit a sigh of relief and reached a hand behind him to grab onto his cape and tear a section of the fabric off. He gave the Duskwight an annoyed glare.

“Wha’ th’fuck, Avront?” He bellowed. “Wha’ th’fuck is wron’ with ye’?!”

“-- She was going to attack–”

“She was surrenderin’, y’actual fuckin’ moron!”

Arnkel lowered his spear, swiftly stepping of any ice he had been standing on as Ketenblaet reprimanded Avront, silently eyeing the blood leaking from the Seeker’s head, through the Sea Wolf’s fingers and onto the ice. Ketenblaet promptly began to wrap the cloth around Sayuri’s head, casting the occasional glare Avront’s way.

“Y’better pray t’wha’ever fuckin’ God y’believe in tha’ th’Boss doesn’t decide t’make a head-shaped hole in a fuckin’ wall, usin’ ye’.”

The Duskwight frowned, turning his head away and sheathing his spear. Arnkel raised his free hand to his ear, pressing down on the linkpearl nestled within.

“.. We got her. We got X’llaya.” He exhaled, casting a glance her way. “.. We-.. will need a healer.. For her..”

The next few words left him reluctantly, as he expected Grymahtyn to pipe up any second - and he dreaded to return to base, where the Sea Wolf would likely lose his temper over the Seeker’s violent head injury.

.. At least, he would not be the target of his fury.

#Sayuri Aoki #[What We Want Most] #IC #FFXIV #Writing