Tumgik
#graves x oc
r0ttenb0gb0dy · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
one of my internet besties jokingly said they wanted to see graves in his american eagle undies with a morning coffee so you bet your ass that i got on that shit ! silly little 20 min sketch w a random dude from google as my reference thank the lord for shutterstock mmmnbbggggfhhh
enjoy im just so brainrotted for graves i would wake up to him every morning and just be good to him i would play with his hair and tell him how much i love him ok gn
111 notes · View notes
katz-chow · 7 months
Text
of apple pies and bloody knives chapter one: a haze in the fields
Tumblr media
warnings: pilot to slasher!graves x fem!reader, hallucinations, hauntings, paranoia
word count: 1,000
Amber waves of grains only applied to two parts of the United States, the Midwest, and Texas. Even with being one of the most well-known lines within American patriotism, one must see the image of urban life rather than endless fields of golden. Flat plains rolled by the windows of her small Chevy, the peaked window caused strands of brown hair to dance in the warm, late summer air. Over her shoulder in the back of the Impala, boxes of essentials clinked and clattered whenever the pavement proved to be porous
Sporadically hitting small towns on the way to her destination, fields turned into hills and then back to drier, rougher patches of empty land, a white dot of a house on the horizon. Orange clouds illuminated the sky as she turned on her lights, and a wave of dread washed over her. The rear view mirror showed nothing but sun-bleached tar and rocky hills behind her. For a pretty girl, even in the absence of men, she will never find peace, now or ever.
The familiar glow of a 7-11’s enthralled her like a moth to a flame, welcoming her back to civilization and the safety net of a crowd. The chill of a Montanan night shivered through her, arms tight on her chest as the wind whistled a soft tune. ‘No more than 20 minutes…’ She promised herself, stepping through the blast of air.
It didn’t even take 15 when she was back on the road again, tank full, bladder emptied, and switchblade thankfully still closed. Making good time, she started up her ending journey to Marburn, Montana. Never heard of it? Good. She checks the time on the dash of her car, ‘11:32 PM’ it read. It was late and late is always bad for a girl. She steps on the gas.
“How long you gon’ be here for, Sweetheart?” The extended-stay motel clerk asked as he thumbed the toothpick between his lips. The teal paint smothered the crackled walls behind him mixed with the fluorescent lights made him look greenish, hair flowing from the desk fan not escaping this effect either.
She fished for her credit card from her wallet and slid it across the counter to him, “Hopefully for a while, but let’s just say 2 weeks for now.”
Her eyes darted over his face, taking in his image just in case. His patchy stubble and tired eyes lent the appearance of a raccoon.
The man shrugged and swiped her card, a satisfying ding echoed from the machine. “$79 for the first week, then it’s $65 for the next, you got that?”
She continued to stare at him, her eyes empty and dead set on the space between his eyes, almost as if in a daze. “Yes, sir.” She whispered.
She took back her card from his hand and the small key to her room. The clock hit midnight as she tugged on her luggage into the damp and dingy motel room.
Locking the door behind her, she also closed the blinds, hanging up a tarp covering the windows as well. She hid. The room was small, with a bed, a pull-out couch, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette with a gas stove, fridge, and microwave. It was doable for the next few weeks, until she can confirm her work and boarding. That, however, was a task for the future. It all resembled a college dorm except if the student had paid extra to get a suite; she smiled just knowing she wasn’t back in that dump, but her smiled dropped into a thinned-lipped frown knowing she was never far from him.
She thought about the boxes of dishes and other necessities in the back seat of her car, debating on whether or not to risk the trip. Her fingers opened the blinds, face nearing in on the dust and eyes peaked between the plastic. Her eyes traveled to the white Chevy parked upfront, the diamond frame of her license plate peeled off. The empty voids mixed with the glittering crystals reminded her of the emptiness in beehives; some filled with honey and nectar while others were left abandoned, hollowed out as if only there to just be there. She sympathized with them as she looked away, catching sight of the innate feeling of danger.
A pair of eyes stared at her, a figure just out on the other side of the parking lot. The figure stood, hunched over a car trunk and turned backward towards her, eyes peering in like a mannequin. His face etched an image of a familiarity, a far she could never forget as he wore the faded red hoodie that she had stolen from him just months prior, laughter bubbled up in them both.
Now, even that thick, old hoodie couldn’t shield the chill than sprinted down her spine, her ears pooling with blood as her heart drummed a solid allegro in her chest. Her stomach growled. It was getting too late in the night, she thought, not worth the trip. Her fingers relaxed as she pulled herself away from the empty parking lot, only her white Chevy in front.
If there she could describe the room in one mood, unsettling would be the word. Dim, yellow lights caused all the shadows on the peeling wallpaper to enhance itself with long shadows, always looming over her seemingly small form. Despite this, she still found the warmth and comfort of tight sheets in a made bed. It wasn’t heavy like how she would remember her bed at home–or well, what was home, but it was better than the back of her car.
Sleep cradled her in its arms, rocking her to a blissful, silent slumber–which was appreciated in comparison to the long nights of sweat-drenched nightmares and paranoia. She was okay, she chanted in her head, convincing herself and the monster that is anxiety and intrusive thoughts. New environment, new life, new identity, she is truly scattered to the winds; a field of dandelions. 
51 notes · View notes
cloudofbutterflies92 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
A little gift for @caelums-fate , I hope you like it darling 🥺💚💚
18 notes · View notes
callsign-bunnie · 5 months
Note
Hiyaaa. I was just wondering if you could update Slasher Feildtrip chapter 12. Maybe if possible. Really love your work tho, the writing is just amazing, and the characters are so well written.❤️❤️❤️🙏
Hahaha, we're going to pretend this didn't take me months to write.
--
“Mr Parra, thank you for sitting down with me.” Detective Graves smiled at Rodolfo.
Rodolfo did not like him. “Of course.” He nodded, crossing his arms and sitting back. “I think it’s interesting that you’re phrasing this as if it’s a choice.”
“I only asked if you could answer some questions, you’ve not been arrested or subpoenaed.” Graves shrugged, flipping through a notebook. To be fair, they were only at a cafe and Rodolfo had been given the option to not show up, but was he just going to say no to a federal officer? He knew better than that. “You’re aware of your friend, Johnny Mactavish-”
“Soap.” Rodolfo corrected, sighing. “He prefers Soap. Yes, I am aware he was the sole survivor of a mass murder that happened a year and a half ago. I’m aware that the killer was never found. I’m the one who took him to therapy appointments.”
“And… you and your fiance were the sole survivors of another incident.” Graves confirmed, not showing any reaction to Rodolfo’s outburst. “Correct?”
“Correct.” Rodolfo sighed, shaking his head. “When I was sixteen.”
“And your fiance was 17.”
“Yes.”
Graves wrote a few things down and then he folded his arms over the notebook, smiling at Rodolfo. “Are you aware that your fiance’s father was suspected in a long string of murders in the 1990s? He killed several women. The only reason he was never convicted was a clerical error.”
Rodolfo frowned, furrowing his brows. No… No he hadn’t known that. But, it was no matter. He had known that it was always suspected that Alejandro’s father had killed his mother. “No… but I do know it was always suspected that he killed his wife, my fiance’s mother. My fiance has had nightmares over it. His father was a monster, I knew that well.”
Graves did seem a little surprised by that before shrugging. “It was told to me by Kyle Garrick that you and your friend, Soap, didn’t go to the party. You both came home. I have eyewitness accounts, though, that say you were there.”
Shit.
“No. We didn’t go.” Rodolfo shook his head, dropping his shoulders. “My then boyfriend and I got into a really big fight and I was really upset, so I stayed home and asked my friend to stay with me. No, I don’t have anyone who can confirm that, I stayed home.” He was lying, but he wasn’t changing it, knowing better. If he insisted on his story, it looked more believable. “But… people saw Soap at every major event, after the fieldtrip. Hell, people were claiming he was at a mass shooting halfway across the country. You can look at his twitter.”
Graves nodded a bit. “I’ve seen. I’m on your side, Mr Parra. I suspect that the murderer when you were 16 and the murderer recently are one in the same. Do you know a woman by the name of Valeria Garza.”
Rodolfo paused, blinking and then frowning. “I’m… sorry?” Valeria Garza? No, he didn’t know who she was at all. 
“Her mother was one of the women murdered by Marcus Vargas.” Graves sighed. 
“No, I don’t know who she is.” Rodolfo shook his head, furrowing his brows. “Why do you ask?”
Detective Graves watched him for a moment, appearing almost surprised, before shaking his head. “No reason. Have a nice day, Mr Parra.” He stood and gathered his things before leaving, leaving Rodolfo very confused. 
Who was Valeria Garza? Why did Detective Graves look so surprised that he didn’t know who she was? Should he have known? So, he got out his phone and texted Alejandro. I just was asked to talk by that Detective. Why didn’t you tell me there were other women? That your father killed.
The detective asked you questions??
Alejandro.
He didn’t get a response for a long while, Alejandro starting and then stopping typing repeatedly before finally, something came through while he was picking up dinner to take home. I didn’t want you to think I was like him.
Rodolfo wasn’t sure what to say to that, since they’d all agreed not to mention the whole murder thing over text. But… wasn’t Alejandro? Aren’t you? I mean… 
I never raped anyone.
Well I didn’t know he had. But, Ale, come on… You have to understand why the connection might be made.
I’m not my father.
No, I’m not saying you are, I’m just saying that maybe these tendencies come from him, I mean… you got your bipolar from him.
Rodolfo, I’m only going to say this once. I’m not my father and I do not appreciate being referred to as him.
Rodolfo stared down at the phone in his hands. Was… Alejandro threatening him? No, no, that wasn’t going to fly at all. He quickly called Alejandro, taking the bags of food he’d gotten out to the car. Again, it took a moment but Alejandro answered, just giving him a cool hello. “Alejandro Vargas. I’m only going to threaten me. You either kill me or you don’t.”
Alejandro spluttered, sounding shocked. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t threatening you. I wouldn’t kill you-”
“I don’t believe you, nor do I care. You kill me or you don’t, but do not fucking threaten me. I will not live in fear of you like my father lived in fear of my mother.”
“...you really think I would kill you?”
Rodolfo pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing softly, before dropping his shoulders and getting in the car. “I don’t know what to think, sometimes, Alejandro! I close my eyes and I am surrounded by blood and fire. You did that, you caused that.”
“Mi amor-”
“Don’t.” Rodolfo sighed and put his head back against the headrest, staring up at the ceiling. “You kidnapped me. You were going to let my friend die… How am I supposed to believe that you wouldn’t kill me?”
“Because I love you…” Alejandro sounded almost desperate. “I love you more than myself, mi cielito… I adore you.”
“But if you stopped loving me? What if you just… got bored of me? Would you kill me, then?”
“But that will never happen!”
Rodolfo’s heart sank. He knew it was true. He knew that was the case but… having it confirmed was heartbreaking in a way. Reasonably, he also understood that being around Alejandro was a tightrope, teetering on the sides of love and death, but… he hadn’t expected it to ever be so explicitly confirmed. To have Alejandro basically say that “yes. If you fail and you become boring to me… you’re dead.”
He felt tears fill his eyes, but he still wasn’t afraid. More… resigned. “One day.” He whispered. “One day I won’t be enough anymore. I’ll fight you too much, I’ll be too defiant, or maybe I just won’t be fun to be around. One day, that’s going to happen, and one day you are going to kill me.”
“No, no, no, no. That won’t ever happen, Rudy, that won’t- That’s never going to happen because my father killed my mother and I would never kill you, I’m not my father, I’m not him. I’m not.”
“What if you don’t see it like that? I think if you fell out of love with me, you’ll rationalize it that your father was in love with your mother and you’re not in love with me, so it’s not the same. Maybe it won’t be, but you’ll still kill me. Will you even fell guilty?”
“Rodolfo, please. I’m not going to kill you…” Alejandro’s voice was broken with tears, which was a bit of an odd sound, and it did tug on Rodolfo’s heart. He started to feel bad, and he realized he was being unfair. He would be married to Alejandro, maybe Alejandro would still think it was the same. “I love you more than anything, you don’t know what you mean to me. I’m only still here to have the chance to be with you. I adore you… Please believe me…”
Rodolfo sighed and softened. “I do believe you, I’m sorry… I’m coming home, I picked up food. Can you put the laundry in? I forgot to do it this morning…”
Alejandro audibly sighed in relief. “Of course, mi querido. Alex and Gaz are over, by the way.”
Rodolfo paused and frowned. “Like… together?”
“Alex snared him. Exactly like I told him how, isn’t that amazing? Three best friends for three best friends.” Alejandro’s voice was so dreamy, and despite everything, Rodolfo laughed affectionately at how excited he sounded. 
Rodolfo jumped and shrieked at a knock on his window, blushing dark red when he saw it was a woman at his window, rapping her knuckles against the glass. Alejandro sounded panicked, repeatedly asking if Rodolfo was okay. “Yes, yes, just…” He took in a breath, holding up one finger to the woman, who nodded and backed away from the window, and then he held his chest. “Someone just scared me, sorry mi sol. I’ll be home soon.” He lowered the phone, ignoring Alejandro’s extra questions and rolled down his window. “I’m so sorry, I’m on the phone-”
“With your boyfriend?” The woman chuckled, leaning against the vehicle and leaning down. Her accent was very similar to Rodolfo and Alejandro’s, and she had short black hair with aviator sunglasses on. “I’m sorry, your fiance?”
Rodolfo frowned, getting a bad feeling. Alejandro was losing it on the phone. “Rodolfo! Rodolfo!! Don’t answer her, don’t say anything.” 
The woman chuckled, her eyes glancing to the phone. “That’s okay. I can hear him.” She revealed a knife from behind her back and gestured. “Come on, hermoso. Out of the vehicle.”
Rodolfo’s eyes went wide at the sight of the knife but he got out, taking the phone with him. He knew better than to try to fight back, now very skilled at life or death scenarios. “Who are you?”
“My name is Valeria.” She hummed and stepped back as Rodolfo got out before getting right up close to him, putting her face close to his and letting out a slow breath. “Are you religious… Rodolfo?”
Rodolfo avoided asking how she knew his name. “Rodolfo-”
Valeria took the phone from Rodolfo’s hand, and he did almost stop her, but she swatted him away with the knife and he had to quickly yank his hand back to avoid being cut. She put the phone up to her ear and chuckled, softly. “I’m going to savor this, Alejandro.”
Rodolfo couldn’t hear Alejandro, anymore, taking deep breaths and trying to remain calm. Well, it turned out that Alejandro was right, he wasn’t going to kill Rodolfo. Rodolfo was still going to end up dead, though, it seemed. Oh god, he didn’t want to die. He really didn’t want to die. He tried very hard to push down his fear and keep himself from shaking, but it just didn’t work.
Valeria chuckled and pulled the phone from her ear as Alejandro started to scream at her in Spanish, and she turned the phone to speaker. “Valeria, I swear to god, if you do this, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth. You will never know peace, again!”
“Oh, Alejandro…” She tsked, her eyes remaining on Rodolfo. Rodolfo’s heart pounded, his breath was racing, he was so afraid. Valeria reached around Rodolfo and then she put the phone on the hood of the car, smiling at Rodolfo. “Not even going to beg for your life?”
Rodolfo took in a very shaky breath. “I know better.” Was all he could manage as he let it out. 
“Fair.” She chuckled before lunging forward and Rodolfo hunched forward as he felt the knife stab right into his stomach. “Shh…” She cooed and held Rodolfo, the pain forcing his legs to give out. It was visceral, making tears spring to his eyes and he gasped before coughing up blood onto the ground, slumping forward once he was on the ground.
“RODOLFO!” Alejandro was screaming, though it was hard to hear over the ringing in his ears. 
Valeria gently pet Rodolfo’s hair, cooing again. “It doesn’t hurt for too long, hermoso, don’t worry…”
Rodolfo’s vision was already darkening and he gasped for air, but his lungs seemed to just be full of blood, and now he was becoming light headed. The pain had started to fade, just as she said, but so was everything else. He finally let out a sob that took most of the energy he had left, while Valeria helped him to lay down and then she pulled the knife out, causing him to have to release another sob. “...why…” He gasped out, looking up at her.
Valeria sighed, getting out a cloth and wiping the knife handle before laying it beside Rodolfo and standing, getting out what looked like an instant camera and taking a picture. “Revenge. He took something I loved, so now I’m taking something he loves. I’m sorry you had to be a pawn, Rodolfo, but… well he doesn’t love anything else. I could burn his house to the ground, kill all of his friends, but he won’t care. He can get new friends, even new murderous friends. Alex didn’t have a tendency in his body before them, and he managed to convince Alex to kill his mother. Well… I think Farah Karim helped. However… he can buy a new house, too. But he can’t replace you.”
Rodolfo held his stomach as best he could, trying without reason to keep his blood inside his body, but he knew it wouldn’t work, rolling onto his back and coughing up more blood. He could still hear Alejandro screaming his name, and it became the only thing he could hear while he watched Valeria walk away and his consciousness finally started to fade. 
“RODOLFO!”
-
Lucas swung his legs, sitting in his dorm desk chair as he stared at the new picture he’d gotten. Alejandro would be incredibly disappointed if he found out Lucas’s new obsession, but… so what? Alejandro didn’t always know best, even if he was usually correct… Besides, Ghost and Alex were the one who even got him on the scent.
“Yeah… We’re just soo concerned because there’s this FBI agent running around asking questions… But we’re nervous to kill him, because they’ll just send another.”
“He’s blond and blue eyed, too, I mean there’s just a dime a dozen like him, too…”
“Older… I mean, he’s at least thirty…”
Lucas had caught on, quick. He’d only even looked at the detective to satiate them and to also satisfy his curiosity, but… well, one glance had easily been enough because Lucas was immediately hooked. 
O.L.D.
Alejandro had it, though he would never admit it out loud. Diagnosed, too. Alejandro hated the term, likely to do with it’s connection to Anime characters, but it was a family trait. All of Alejandro’s siblings had it, and that included Lucas’s father. Lucas’s mother was actually very spoiled, because his father was obsessed with her.
Which was likely why all of Alejandro’s siblings turned the other way when Alejandro stuck an axe in Lucas’s abuelo. He had threated Lucas’s father and Tio Damian’s wives, which both of them were utterly obsessed with. They all had to know what Rodolfo was to Alejandro, too, and when he threatened Rodolfo… Well, Lucas wasn’t shocked, at least.
But, now Lucas had it too. Really bad… He supposed the BPD was also not helping. Turns out, when your father is obsessed with his wife, he doesn’t care that much about the children she creates.
Obsessive love disorder…
Lucas didn’t think he was that obsessive, though he definitely knew he was. Especially as he took the photo he’d taken of Phillip Graves and put it up on his “dream board”, right next to the rest of the growing collection. Ghost and Alex had been spot on, though… 30 years old, blonde, blue eyed, fairly fit, and very aggressive… Oh, Lucas had done his research. Everything about the detective was like candy for him…
He’d found out everything he possibly could, obsessively studied his exes… He liked feminine males, which Lucas definitely was. Probably hetcomp, but Lucas didn’t mind, as he could more than play into it. He preferred his coffee black with only two packets of sugar, he was a widower, and he wasn’t just an FBI agent, also owning a shady business selling black market weapons.
Lucas was very good at research, especially when he wanted the subject as badly as he wanted Graves. He had almost been afraid that Rodolfo would ruin his chances, as Graves had interviewed him that morning, but Rudy was now in the hospital, so not only would he be out of the way, but Alejandro would be busy with Rudy and couldn’t get mad at Lucas for his little… fixation.
His obsession. 
“Phillip Graves…” Lucas murmured, liking the way his name tasted in his mouth. Like honeysuckle right out of the flower… 
Ghost and Alex had been right to put Lucas on the trail.
--
Hey! Just a reminder that this series and others are ask based, which means I'll only write other parts if I have asks for it! If you want more, go ahead and send an ask for the next part!
Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!
@wittymanatee @Humanmilkerr @vergilnelosparda @cathsolos @thegodofsleep @bl-nk-sp-ce @captainsimcoe @del79jji @stardust-medic99 @thatnerdnamedtj @loartacc @lvndr-swtr @pandanini @chaotic-pastel-science-babe @odelia_32
11 notes · View notes
fefy--art · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
I made this oc with a friend, his name is Nathaniel Bauer, he was a Shadow and in our story he had a secret relationship with Graves...before the betrayal of the shadows occurred and everything went to hell
13 notes · View notes
runekirikjartan · 1 year
Text
Am I seducing you?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Would you like me to seduce you?
29 notes · View notes
themaybug · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
mortality
6K notes · View notes
devourable · 1 year
Text
✘ delinquents
sfw | tws : yandere behavior; stalking, obsessive thoughts, mildly implied violence
delinquent male yanderes x reader! only pronoun used for reader is ‘you’ 😌 i took a bit longer than expected so i hope yall enjoy these knuckleheads
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
mattias was the first to take notice of you.
he caught sight of you during one of his typical late night walks with his friends, semi-drunkenly cracked jokes amongst themselves as they passed around liquor that they had stolen earlier in the day. and when his gaze fell onto you from some distance away, he stopped walking.
you were doing nothing but sitting at a bus stop, but... what was it about you? the way the street lamp bathed you in its light, illuminating you with an amber glow like you were the only thing on the street? it made the boy's heart stutter in a way he'd never felt before!
when his friends returned to his side upon noticing he had stopped walking, mattie quickly pointed you out to his friends ("guys, check out that cutie!"), and an additional three pairs of eyes landed on you as your bus rumbled down the road. and they all had the same reaction as him — you were adorable! what were you doing out on your own so late? didn’t you know there were criminals around here? poor little thing you were, you must’ve not had any other choice…
clearly, you needed someone to protect you!
they were too far away to approach then and there, but it was probably for the best. getting talked up by four drunk, imposing male strangers so late at night would probably not make the best first impression, one of them pointed out as they watches you board your bus. so completely unbeknownst to you, your four new admirers had already began to devise a plan to meet you formally.
it was strange how naturally their collective desire for you fell together. any other time, if even just two of them liked the same person, it was enough to cause infighting and strife among the friend group. but you? the way you united them simply by existing, you had to be something special! it must’ve been destiny that they noticed you that night.
the four would slowly trickle their way into your life, one by one. despite mattias begging to be the one to do it, dominic would be the first of the four you’d actually meet. in his eyes, he was the least intimidating, the most suave, the most manipulative. his charmingly crooked smile had always helped him charm his way into and out of most situations, and you were no different.
he’d casually start riding the same bus as you at the same times you did, using it as an excuse to talk to you. coincidentally, you and him had the same stops, too! and he even got the driver to give you free lifts, even when he wasn't around. it was an old favor he was owed, he'd say, so you didn't have to pay any mind to the tense demeanor of the bus driver whenever you boarded.
naturally he’d offer to walk you home, too, but if you weren’t comfortable with that, it was no biggie (he’d figure out where you lived regardless). he was content with waving you off and walking in a different direction for the meantime.
mattias and judas came next. when dom had managed to convince you to stop by the nearby corner store with him one day, his friends just so happened to be there! as if they weren’t waiting there every day after you and dom had established a friendship.
it was all mattias could do to not scoop you up the moment you met. you were even cuter up close! he was so happy when his patience was rewarded by being graced with your voice, your laughs at his witty sense of humor, and your little smile when you looked at him. did you like him back? did you think he was half as attractive as he found you to be? he desperately wanted to know what you thought of him, but he choked back his questions to keep from scaring you off. in spite of his usually energetic persona, he played it cool to gain your favor.
judas, meanwhile, observed you in relative silence — he wasn’t much of a talker, dom explained — but it didn’t mean his thoughts weren’t any less intense than mattias’s. he couldn’t deny it — he liked you, quite a lot. more than he thought he would. despite finding you attractive too, he didn’t think much of you when he had first grown aware of your existence. he’d simply chalked you up to be the temporary fixation of his friends. but the second you did meet, judas’s mind went to places he had never expected it to go.
for once, he found himself… wanting someone. wanting you. and for once, he was happy his friends had dragged them into this whole scheme.
the four of you all got along so well! and when aaron was finally introduced to you as well, he was no exception. aaron was the only of the four to have a car, so when he ‘learned’ that you were taking the bus so late to get around, he was quick to offer up his own services to help you out ("dom is too much of a nuisance to drive around," he'd claim). an excuse to be able to spend more time with you, with and without his friends around, and you don’t have to deal with public transportation anymore! a win-win, right? and when you accepted, he was over the moon.
it didn't take long for them to sweep you right off your feet after you had met all four of them. they were relentless in capturing your heart and all four of them worked together to ensure you were theirs.
on top of that, none of them were afraid of breaking a few rules or laws to do that, either.
you found yourself always with at least one of the four — usually mattias, as he had the most free time and arguably liked you the most — and the few times you weren't, you could bet they were doing everything in their power to get back to you. other people in your life suddenly began to pull away from you, never having time or simply not wanting to be around you, or so they claimed. it left you with little else to turn to outside of the boys. they had started to puppeteer your life without you ever even knowing it.
they didn't quite understand the pull you had on them — hell, you didn't even realize what you were doing to them! and they even started to question if what they were doing was okay. was what they were doing to your life just to keep you in theirs worth it?
but dominic, mattias, judas, and aaron all came to the same decision the day you agreed to be in a relationship with all four of them...
it was definitely worth it. and they'd keep doing whatever it took to keep things going exactly as they were.
4K notes · View notes
r0ttenb0gb0dy · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✨ i am no mother, i am no bride, i am king ✨
a little fanart for my OC rex, set to the song “king” by florence + the machine. it’s canon they’re married to graves i dont make the rules 🫶🏻 pls keep negativity away from this, it’s my serotonin thank u.
big thank u to @whitewolfmystery for motivating me by being an awesome human
much love. mwah. xo bog
36 notes · View notes
buckysmith · 2 years
Text
He gets drunk
Includes: Alejandro, Grave, Ghost and Soap
Warning: Adult stuff, mention of alcohol use, 18+ stuff but not to heavy
(Has nothing to do with the headcanons I just love that song and listened to it while writing )
____________
Alejandro: (not my gift)
Tumblr media
- he is actually a man who can stand a lot of alcohol
- he doesn't really like drinking games, but if Rudy challenges him, he's not the one to shy away from it
- as I said, he can stand a lot of the devils liquor but holy hell after an amount of it that could possibly kill any other human he’s not the stoic thinking Alejandro Vargas.
- He knows he’s a good locking man so it’s not unusual that some chicas or chicos flirts with him
- some of his team would call you in situations like that, not because he’s a cheater no. They would call you to pick him up because he gets whiny and grumpy about that your not here with him
- ofc you would pick your love sick husband up but to be honest, after one whole bottle of Mezcal he’s fucked up (just to remember you that would most possible kill any other person) and wouldn’t really recognize you
- at first he would tell you to go away cause he’s in a relationship
- when you want to take him with you he gets angry, telling you to fuck off cause he has the most beautiful, loving, kind hearted and attractive S/O in the whole world
- you would giggle about it, telling you your his s/o
- he would try to recognize your face but because of the darkness and way to much alcohol he just couldn’t
- but he would recognize your scent
- yeah, good luck going home after he recognized you
- cough instead horny cough
- anyways, even though he’s fucked up your night wouldn’t end quickly after you got him home
- oh and even in this state your his top priority ;)
(I’m sorry but I think drunk as fuck he would dance/ sing to that song Vamos a la Playa)
Graves: (not my gift)
Tumblr media
- He hates drinking games more than anything else
- but if someone challenges him he can’t say no, his ego ist waaaay to big for that
- after a good amount of alcohol he would call you to take him home
- he knows he’s an attractive man so from time to time people would hit at him but he would causally show his wedding ring (he doesn’t even want to look at the people that want him)
- he knows he can’t drive and he doesn’t want to take an Uber (it’s just not safe as someone like him) so he would wait for you
- he would wait till you show up with another drink in his hand
- he’s not quite talkative on your way home, but he would lay his hand on your thigh, murmur a lot of sweet nothings and a lot of dirty things
- after you both got home he would ask you to take his clothes off
- cough alcohol makes him horny and you do too cough
Soap: (not my gift)
Tumblr media
- he likes the taste of scotch that sharp, distinct flavor is what he likes about it
- The few times he has with his whole team are most likely to have a serious matter but the rare times when they can sit in a bar drinking with each other and don’t have to worry to get killed end most of the time with a drinking game
- he isn’t as good with alcohol as ghost or price but he would definitely try to win that stupid drinking game
- price would be the one that calls you
- soap would only sit in some corner, with a picture of you in his hand whining that he wants you to be here with you (he’s love sick)
- the moment you’re in front of him, kneeling between his legs and gently touching his cheeks would end with you back first in the wooden floor
- Ghost would definitely take pics/ videos of you too, most likely to tease soap after he’s sober
- You would take your big boy home
- he’s more on the cuddle side
- he wants you to touch him, to tell him sweet nothings and praise him
Ghost: (not my gift)
Tumblr media
- no matter how much he drinks, he isn’t able to get drunk
- fr this man can drink stuff that could kill any other human and he’s still fucking sober (at least he seems to)
- But even though he isn’t the usual drunk man, he gets homesick or better he wants to go home to you
- he knows even though he’s still able to put one and one to two he’s not gonna drive home so he would call you
- he’s a ghost, the others wouldn’t notice that he disappeared (at least they would notice when he’s already over the hills)
- love sick puppy
- he had it rough and in times like that he needs you more than anything
- he’s quite emotional when he’s drunk, it’s most likely the only time he’s able to cry and to let out his feelings
- Cuddle with him, praise him, pet him, take care of him, you’re the one he needs the most
6K notes · View notes
silassinclair · 3 months
Text
Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader
CW// Possession, Obsession, Yandere Behavior, Jealousy, Suggestive Content, Gaslighting, Maddox has a housewife fetish (16+)
Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When Maddox first saw you hiding in your wardrobe after having killed your Father he was shocked to see such a pretty woman inside. He knew your Father had a daughter but he didn't know she'd be a fierce and beautiful young woman.
Maddox knew he had to have you. No way was he going to leave you in this bumfuck town in the middle of no where. You're too valuable.
He ties you up and takes you away from your hometown. You're his now so he's taking you with him wherever he goes. Having a pretty little accessory like you will give him bragging rights after all.
He takes you to saloons while he plays cards with his buddies. Has you sit still and look pretty on his lap while he drinks and plays. His friends say dirty things about you. Commenting on how submissive you are for Maddox. Maddox eats their comments up like a full course meal.
"You boys wish you had this fine piece of ass. But she's mine."
When you're at his temporary house he has you play housewife. You cook his food, clean his laundry, and most importantly you take him like a good girl and let him use you to pleasure himself.
"You like that yeah? You don't? Then shut your pretty little mouth n' take it anyway. Don't make me mad now."
But over the course of a few months and after spending more time with you he sees you less as an object to brag about and more as a companion. He sees you everyday so of course he develops feelings. Feelings he denies of course.
"You think cus' I'm being nice lately you can just skip doin' laundry? Well you've been a good girl this week so I'll let it slide... But you're doin' it tomorrow! No excuses!"
Maddox takes you to the saloon with him again as usual. This time the sexual comments his friends say make him see red. He draws his gun and shoots them all dead where they sit.
"I should have never let em' say that vulgar shit bout' you. Shoulda never let you in that shithole in the first fuckin' place. C'mon, we're goin' home."
Fucks you gently this time and prioritizes your pleasure over his. You're so cute mewling beneath him. Praises you instead of degrades you.
"You can take it princess, c'mon! Don't tell me to slowdown when I can feel how good you feel on me. Yeah that’s it, good girl. Doin’ so good for me… Ya’ feel divine~"
He slowly starts bringing you into town less often. When you ask why you can't come with him he simply says that you're safer at home.
A month goes by and you're tired of being holed up in his house. So you take the risk and leave while he's taking his afternoon nap.
Bad Choice….
"You thought you could leave me?! Baby I love ya', I really do but sometimes you're real fuckin' stupid."
Locks the doors, windows, and always has his eye on you. When he has to go out he keeps you tied to the bed by the ankle.
Every night he holds you close to him. He's a light sleeper, he'll feel if you move and try to escape him. If that happens he'll embrace you in a nearly bone crushing hug.
He’ll wrestle with you if you try and fight him, but he’ll never strike you. He’d never do that after seeing the abuse his Mother endured from her customers at the brothel.
Comes home one day with two golden rings. He wears one and forces the other onto your ring finger. It's a perfect fit.
"You're my wife now and I'm your husband. You'll address me as such, got it?"
No wedding, no priest, no judge, no documentation. He says you're his wife now and that's that.
"There's names engraved inside the rings.? That's just the name of the jeweler I got it from... Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
You two never get to settle down. You hop from one abandoned home to the other. After all he needs to always be on the run from the law. It's a stressful but exhilarating lifestyle. Danger lurks at every corner.
Loves calling you by his last name. Though your last name is still legally L/n; Maddox says that since you’re his wife you have his last name. After all you two are wearing the rings to prove it!
"Thank you for the meal Mrs. Graves, God you're perfect. Where have you been all my life?"
He adores your body. Doesn't matter what body type you have. Chub? He's kneading it with his hands while he praises you like the goddess you are. Insecure about how the outline of your ribcage is visible? He traces his fingers down to your tummy and then goes even lower... He can't keep his hands off.
Favorite thing to do is hug you from behind and just press your backside against him while you do chores. It feels so domestic and it makes him feel like he isn’t a wanted criminal for a moment.
Kisses? He loves to kiss you! His favorite spots are your ankles, tummy, and forehead. And your lips ofc!
Whenever you have to slip your stockings on he swats your hands away and does it. He’ll pull them up sensually and slowly, trailing kisses from your ankle up to your thigh as he does so.
“Your skin’s so soft princess, just wanna take a bite. You’ll let me right?”
He loves animals. His horse Jasper is his best friend. Jasper won't let anyone ride him except for you and Maddox. Anyone else gets thrown off and stomped on.
Since this is the 1800’s people don’t really bathe as often. But Maddox is different. He can’t stand having grime on him for too long after you called him stinky once. So now he bathes more often than most. And you bathe with him too. You have no choice in the matter.
“Mmm love it when you wash my hair sweetheart… Ya’ fingers feel like heaven..”
Maddox is a tough guy. He's taken bullets, stabs, you name it. He even survived a hanging once. If anything happens to you he'll fight God himself just to keep you safe. Even if it costs him his life.
"GET YA' MEATHOOKS OFF MY WIFE YOU FUCKIN' ANIMALS!"
Tells you he loves you everyday. And if you don't say it back? Well he'll just bug you until you say it. After your "marriage" he doesn't really punish you anymore. You’re his partner for life, you deserve the world.
Respects women. His Mother worked in a brothel so he witnessed how men mistreated women. He could never do that to you... Even though he did early in your relationship. But he'll never admit that! Bring it up and he'll call you crazy.
"Sweetheart I never harmed a hair on your head, quit talkin' nonsense."
Teaches you how to fire a gun just in case. Hopefully you'll never have to use the skill though.
Spoils you whenever he can. Maddox has a decent amount of money but it's still pretty tight. Buying you things isn't an option because being on the run means you need to have minimal baggage. So he treats you to dinners and cute little dates.
Overtime you get used to this life. You forget he ever even killed your old man.
Tumblr media
Anyone is free to request anything! Don't be shy! I'm hyperfixiating on this oc so I'll happily write anything for him. As long as it isn't blatant NSFW :-)
356 notes · View notes
softpascalito · 13 days
Text
I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 1 I
Tumblr media
Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.
But he doesn't stay a stranger.
Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added
AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist
notes: this work has been quite a while in the making and im very excited to finally share the first chapter! a huge thank you to the wonderful josie for being my beta reader and listening to all my rambling <3
this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.
Tumblr media
Chapter 1 - The Before
‘‘I will be very sad to leave here’, Yves said, suddenly. ‘I have never been happier than I have been in this house.’ ‘I have been very happy too. I wonder if we will ever be so happy again.’’  - Another Country, James Baldwin
You’d been on the run for what felt like weeks but could only have been days when you found the gas station next to an abandoned mall. It had looked promising, the half-rotten advertisements plastered to the walls, reminding your stomach that it had gone far too long without a proper meal, or any meal for that matter.
Maybe if you hadn’t been so starved or so tired, you would’ve heard them coming, the Infected that stormed through the back door practically the moment you slipped into the building. A yell escaped your throat, your hand instinctively reaching for the knife you kept buckled to your leg. You didn't even get the chance to pull it out of its makeshift holster before the creature was on top of you, pinning you to the floor with what felt like inhuman strength.
“Fucking- get off-” you grunted, but even if the thing on top of you had been one that listened to commands, your thin and shaky voice likely wouldn’t have impressed it.
So this was how you were gonna go out. In a town you couldn't even name, somewhere in the snowy mountains of Wyoming, after finally escaping the life you’d been stuck in for so long. You hadn't even made it a month.
For a second, you considered trying to reach for your gun, still tucked into your pants and pressing into your back uncomfortably. You could feel its outline against your skin, a pain shooting through your spine as the Infected seemed to double its effort to reach your neck with its mouth, half-rotten teeth close enough that you could recognize the foul smell of death.
Then, the gun went off. Or you thought it did. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang in your ears as the Infected collapsed on top of you. But the feeling of your pistol pressing into your back was still there. It had been a gun. But not yours.
“I got her!” a voice above you bellowed out, an unmistakable southern drawl. “Tommy, give me some cover here, goddammit!”
You hadn't even noticed the second man, who was now aiming his gun at another runner storming towards him. He fired, once, twice, and the Infected let out a howl before its body hit the tiled floor with a thud.
“Hey, you with me?” The man above you leaned down, shoving the Infected that had been on top of you to the side unceremoniously. He was dressed in a worn jacket, jeans and boots, the latter two splattered with blood. His right hand, covered in a weathered leather glove, was stretched out towards you, an invitation to, well, you weren't exactly sure.
“She good?”
The second man approached the pair of you, your eyes flying over to him for a split moment. He was dressed similarly, except that he looked a little younger than his partner. He shouldered his rifle and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Your gaze flew back to the man in front of you, to the brown eyes that carried an unexpectedly gentle look, not quite matching the gruff way he looked. Shaking slightly, you placed your hand in his, and the next moment, he was pulling you to your feet.
“There you are.”
You nodded, a motion that looked more like your head was jerking on its own accord. But the man seemed to accept it. As the other one stepped towards you, the taller of the two men spoke again.
“You clean?” When no response came, he pressed on, his tone getting a little more impatient. “Did it bite you? Scratch you anywhere?”
The other one gently placed a hand on his chest, forcing your attention onto himself. “Can you walk? Our horses are two houses over, we've got a place where you can rest, get some food-”
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you blurted out. You'd had your fair share of people, of men offering you ‘help’ and it never stopped there. There was payment, always. In this world, it was stupid to think there wouldn't be, that anyone would help you out of the kindness of their hearts.
“You're not going anywhere else by the looks of it, either,” the man with the gloves muttered, more than loud enough for you to hear. “You won't last a week.”
“I've lasted longer, asshole,” you shot back, suddenly angry at the stranger in front of you. He didn't know you, he didn't know the things you'd gone through to get here. So what if he had saved your life? It didn't give him the right to predict your death.
The other man nudged his ribs, extending his hand to you as well, though it was more of a formality this time. 
“Name’s Tommy. The asshole is my brother Joel.”
He paused for a moment, clearly thinking about how to approach this the right way. “Look, I'm sure you've been traveling for quite some time. We can give you a place to recover. You can leave anytime, I promise.”
You eyed him carefully. It did sound too good to be true. But it also did sound- good. A roof over your head, warm food in your stomach- two things you'd been craving for quite some time.
“Okay.”
The man who had introduced himself as Tommy gave a short nod and led the way to the horses, following tracks in the snow the two men had left while coming to your rescue. Joel pulled up the rear and you had a feeling that his eyes were trained on you, watching carefully, maybe for a twitch or anything else out of the ordinary. Again, you weren't sure why, but it made you angry.
“I told you I wasn't bit,” you repeated in his direction as Tommy began untying the horses. 
Joel raised a brow, clearly surprised by the attitude in your voice. “‘ts what they usually say.”
“Well, I'm not,” you replied, turning your back on him and focusing on his brother instead. Tommy pretended not to have heard either of you but somehow you were certain he had.
“C’mon, you can ride with me. It's not too far.”
Not too far turned out to be a good hour, the crisp autumn air making you shiver, and you were thankful for the warmth of both the horse and Tommy. But what the ride lacked in temperature it made up for in views, the sun coming out just as you passed the first sign that read ‘Jackson County’.
You didn't even mind Joel's occasional glances towards you as much, finding that with the sunlight playing in his brown curls, his look screamed less of danger and more of concern. Whether it was concern for Tommy or you or something entirely different, you weren't sure.
The answer came to you in the form of your housing arrangements. After getting over the first shock of riding up a busy mainstreet in what looked like an actual, functioning town, a thing you hadn't thought possible anymore, you had made use of what must have been the first functioning toilet you'd seen in months. You felt like a child being steered through the crowd at a busy carnival, if the food hall, the functioning plumbing and electricity and the music drifting from one of the smaller shops was any indication.
“You know we ain't got any unoccupied places and Maria and mine’s no good with the baby screaming all night,” Tommy muttered urgently and you frowned a little. The two men were standing a few feet away, clearly unaware that you were already back and you awkwardly shoved your hands in your pockets, considering going back inside for a moment. But then Joel opened his mouth and you couldn't help but listen in on their conversation. The older man seemed as much a mystery as the entire scene around you.
Tommy piped up before Joel even had a chance to argue. “It's just for a couple of nights. I’m sure Ellie and you will manage. You take her in, explain the basics and as soon as we got a place, you can go back to shutting yourself off from every goddamn person in this town-”
“I don’t-” Joel interrupted before shaking his head, a low grunt leaving his throat.
“Fine. Until Thursday, no longe-” He broke off at the look on Tommys face, one that was aimed directly at you. You shyly nodded in his direction and closed the distance between you in a few quick steps. 
The younger man cleared his throat, giving you a reassuring smile. “Find everything okay?”
“Yeah, thanks,” you replied politely. You hated how forced the conversation felt, already regretting listening in on it at all.
“Joel here’s gonna get you settled for the night, you let him know if you need anything else. I'll stop by in the morning and introduce you to Maria, she’s-”
“The boss,” Joel finished for him, earning a small glare from Tommy. 
“One of our elected leaders,” he corrected, another smile playing around his lips at the mention of what you assumed must be his wife. “Well, I'll leave ya two to it.”
Joel took you home. He still gave you that look, and with Tommy gone, you could be sure that it was actually aimed towards you. It was like he was still on guard but whether it was of you or something else, you couldn't tell.
“Here's how this is gonna go,” he started as he fumbled with the front door of the house clad in white. “You get a quick check-up, a shower, some fresh clothes- you get the idea.”
“I get the idea,” you repeated as he led you into the hallway, unable to keep yourself from glancing around for a moment, catching a peek of the dining room. “You live here by yourself?”
“Why?”
His question hit you out of nowhere and you stuttered for a moment, racking your brain for a good response, “Just- I was making conversation. Jesus.”
“Right,” Joel nodded, his gaze softening a bit. He placed his bag onto the floor and tapped his right thigh absent-mindedly. “Come on, follow me.”
He took you into the upstairs bathroom that smelled faintly of soap, reminding you that you hadn't had a proper wash in more days than you cared to count. There were a few small containers, mostly re-used mason jars, that were labeled ‘shampoo’ or ‘body wash’, sitting orderly on the small shelf next to the tub.
You felt more than heard Joel shift behind you and turned to meet his gaze. He was still watching, arms crossed, seemingly waiting for something.
“Do I- shower?” you asked softly and he sighed a little at that. 
“I need to check you for bites.” His voice was low but still carried a small note of sternness in it. 
Oh, right.
“I didn't agree to that.”
You could see his hand twitch, the handle of his revolver still sticking out the back of his jeans. “You're bit.”
It was more of a statement than anything else, like he already knew what was waiting for him under your clothes, maybe a bite on your leg, a scratch on your stomach. Joel had dealt with enough people that had been marked for death like that to know the signs of it. The thing was, he was wrong.
“Is this what it is?” you asked, quietly, trying to keep your voice from shaking.
“Excuse me?”
“Is that why you go outside, save people? So you can bring them back here, get them to take their clothes off for you-”
“Whoa-” Joel held up both hands, shaking his head very slowly. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I need to check you for bites, it’s protocol.” His voice was still deep, that southern drawl you heard earlier in the gas station still present but somehow softer. His features had shifted, seeming genuinely surprised by the turn of your conversation.
“Now, if you want someone else to do it, I can get a lady and let her look you over. We just want to be sure we don’t bring Infected in, that's all.”
“That's all?” you asked as he kept his eyes trained on you, his hands still up in the air and his expression soft.
“I swear, that's all. If you can show me you're not bit, I'll get you that shower, some food, you name it.”
You gave a small nod at that, your body deflating a little. It had been an incredibly long day and the man in front of you seemed genuine. If he wasn't, you could still try and bail.
Joel turned slightly under the pretense of grabbing a towel from below the sink but you knew he was attempting to give you a bit of privacy- even though he clearly didn’t trust you enough to fully turn his back on you. With shaky hands, you began to strip, holding back a wince as you forced your bruised body to move. The fabric of your shirt clung to your skin, dry blood forcing another whimper out of your throat.
You felt Joel's head snap towards you at that but ignored him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of showing quite how uncomfortable you felt about going through this with him next to you.
He was quick and professional, his large hands brushing over your skin as he made sure you were clean.
“All good,” he commented shortly when he was satisfied, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he reached for a stack of folded towels. Then, his gaze rested on your head again, more specifically, on your matted hair.
“You want me to get someone to cut that for you? Might be easier than-”
“No,” you quickly piped up. You knew your body was malnourished and likely had a dozen other things wrong with it. You didn’t want to lose your hair too.
Joel nodded, his hand absent-mindedly trailing over a particularly nasty knot. “I think I got some soap conditioner in the closet. You want to give that a try?” 
“Yeah, that’d be great,” you responded curtly and Joel disappeared from the room for a few moments. He came back, as promised, with a soap smelling of jasmine and cotton. 
He didn’t seem as hesitant, now that he knew you weren’t bit. At least that’s what you assumed had caused the shift in him. It didn’t occur to you that it might be the fact that you were sitting on his bathroom tiles, shivering, assuming the worst in him, in men, hell, in society. That you looked like a wounded deer, ready to take off at the slightest notion of danger, no matter how badly you were already bleeding.
Joel was a lot more gentle than you would have expected a man of his build to be. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, reaching just far enough to cover your entire hair, but never letting any conditioner run down onto your face. It made you wonder if he was a father. Then you remembered his brother had mentioned a girl earlier, Ellie. Still, you knew better than to ask. You’d likely be gone in a few days anyway.
But, there was one question that you couldn’t keep from slipping out of your mouth.
“Why did you think I was bit?”
Joel paused for a moment, his fingers slowing down ever so slightly as he seemed to think about his words.
“You weren’t fighting hard enough. To stay alive, I mean. You were acting like someone who knows that their time is up.”
An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. You felt his hand brush over the crown of your head, lathering the matted mess that was your hair with soap in small, circular motions.
“I thought it was,” you whispered, honestly. You couldn't bring yourself to lie to him. But you couldn't bring yourself to explain it either.
He didn’t ask.
Neither of you spoke again until you were curled up in his bed, him insisting to take the couch for the night. He’d fed you some soup, relieved when he saw that your stomach could handle that. He’d warned you that it might not, after getting so used to going days without food. You’d gotten some worn but warm clothes to wear after the shower and now your body was sinking into an actual mattress. It was more than you’d dreamed of just that morning.
Joel paused in the doorway, his hand tapping against his jeans, a habit you had already picked up on. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands when they weren’t holding a gun.
“You don’t have to leave,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”
Your mouth went dry as you tried to keep your tone nonchalant. His expression told you that it wasn't exactly working. “Who said I was leaving?”
“You look like you will.”
Again, a quiet fell over you and you shook your head softly. “What, you were a psychologist before or something?”
He smiled weakly. “Contractor.”
After a short pause, he went on. “I know it's hard to- to trust. When ya first get here. I felt the same.” 
You felt a small breath leave your throat at that. “But it gets better?”
“There's hot water, three meals a day, fair working conditions. I don't think it gets much better out there,” he pointed out softly before giving you a small nod.
“I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Good night.”
27 months later
The almost-empty soap sits on your bathroom shelf, the one that’s screwed to the wall just above the worn-out bathtub. You’ve gotten it refilled every few months, sometimes sooner if you wanted to allow yourself a little treat. It still reminds you of your first day in Jackson, of the safety that you so quickly felt in every room of Joel's house.
You still have some time before you have to head to work and the blue sky promises a cold but clear day so you decided to go and check if you’re in luck with any available refills today. Stock always changes throughout the week and while there’s usually something available, you prefer to get your chosen products if possible.
No such luck.
“Sorry, we’re all out. Think patrols cleared out the store that had these a while ago,” the woman behind the counter says apologetically. “We have some others if you’d like to try a new one, there’s-”
“I’m good,” you quickly insist, giving her a small smile when you notice you may have sounded a little harsh. “I’ll just wait and see if some more comes in.”
In one quick motion, you turn around and head towards the door- only to run face-first into a broad chest draped in a thick, brown coat.
“Whoa.” The deep voice above you immediately sends a gentle warmth through your body and you take a small step back to be able to squint up at the man you bumped into.
“Sorry, Texas, didn't see you there.”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” Joel mutters weakly, fumbling with the small bag he is carrying before handing it over to the woman behind the counter. She thanks him and quickly begins to sort the items he has brought back from patrol. He’s wearing the thick coat you see on him whenever it drops below freezing, his dark boots leaving small pieces of wet mud on the floor of the small store. He’s been doing the creek trails then, most likely.
You’ve rarely been on patrol yourself, focusing your energy more on tasks inside the community. If it hadn’t been for Joel, you know you probably would have taken off in the first few days, maybe stolen some food and been on your way. But he’d gotten you to stay. With him, for a few days. Then they had found space for you in a small guesthouse close to the mainstreet, to be shared with a young woman not unlike yourself that had offered up her vacant bedroom.
You’d taken an instant liking to Lane. Joel had dropped you off at your new home, with the few things you owned, and you and her had both stood in the small kitchen in awkward silence, racking your brains for a good conversation starter. Of course, you’d come up with the one she probably heard every other day.
“I like your hair.”
It wasn’t a lie. Her hair was cut short but thick, and most importantly, it was blue. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen colored hair. It seemed to fit her though. The roots were brown and the overall color a little less vibrant than you’d seen in magazines of people before the outbreak. If anything, you liked this more.
“Thanks,” she said lamely, twisting her hand around the small cup she was holding. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m the worst at social shit,” she finally blurted out and it looked like she was half glad to admit it and half afraid of your reaction.
“Don’t worry. Me too,” you admitted, a grin spreading over both your faces, the silence seeming a lot more bearable now. She shrugged towards the counter, half a dozen muffins sitting on it. “You like blueberries? A friend let me nick these.”
She paused for a moment, brushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “I mean, technically they’re not real blueberries, the ground here is too dry for those. I think they’re called juneberries, but we never call them that.”
You figured she’d be a solid roommate if she’d just met you and was already sharing her sweets. Half an hour later, when you had vomited the blueberry muffins back up in your shared bathroom, Joel’s warning about solid food still ringing in your ears, when she was standing beside you, holding your hair back and handing you a washcloth when you were finished, you knew she’d be more than a roommate. She’d be your friend.
She had also been the one to get you into teaching. You’d been fascinated when she first told you about her job in town, teaching the children of Jackson practically every subject she could. Neither of you had been in school before the outbreak so it was all the more impressive, the way she managed to control a class without the need to get loud or hand out punishments.
You’d taken a liking to the classrooms of Jackson as well, reminiscing on the last summer before the world had gone to shit and the way you’d looked forward to being in school, learning all the things big girls did. Not getting to sit in a classroom, and you didn’t count those at FEDRA as actual classrooms, had been only one of so many things you felt you had missed out on.
So it felt even more special now when, after you got Maria to assign you as teacher alongside Lane, you spent your days in the colorfully decorated classrooms, teaching a variety of subjects and a variety of ages. It was similar to life in Jackson, not without its fair amount of challenges. But, just as Joel had promised the first night, you learned to trust and the more you did, the easier it was to let yourself be. Above all, to let yourself be happy.
Joel steps outside alongside you, his head jerking back towards the small supply store. “Did ya get everything?”
His voice is soft, and you like to imagine that he sounds a little more gentle when speaking to you compared to the others. Not that you see him talking to a lot of people either way. You're pretty sure it's why he prefers the patrols, less people to bother him and less voices to listen to. Even though you had a feeling, about a year after you arrived in Jackson, that he also preferred being paired up with Esther, a pretty woman who took care of the horses and frequented the patrols. Especially those with Joel.
You had almost hoped for them to end up together, to drive the images of Joel alone at his too large dining table out of your head. But they didn't and the images stayed. You had him over for dinner, every other month. It started as a thank-you for helping you through your first days and quickly developed into a rare but regular thing. Ellie or Lane joined you occasionally, happy to get a nice home-cooked dinner and some of the wine Joel usually brought along.
You didn't see too much of him outside of your little gatherings, only the normal occasions that presented themself around town. But it was nice to know that he was there, that he would bring his wine and compliment your cooking and make small-talk and listen to the new developments of your life.
“It makes sense for you to be a teacher,” he’d agreed after you’d updated him on your new position, causing you to raise a brow. 
“What is that supposed to mean? Think I can’t handle myself out on the group patrols?”
His face slowly changed at that, Joel urgently shaking his head, “I didn't mean-”
You cut him off with a small laugh, no longer able to stay serious at how panicked he looked. “I’m messing with you, old man. I know what you meant. I think it makes sense too. I like it.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, grumbling a little under his breath.
It's Joel's voice that brings you back to the present. “I asked if you got everything?”
You shake your head to get rid of the thoughts, then it turns to shaking your head no. “They’re out of conditioner. But it’s fine, I can stretch mine a bit longer and maybe they’ll get some next week.”
“Ya still using the same one?” Joel asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and you nod. It's sweet that he remembers. It's been over two years, after all.
“Yeah. Liked it, never saw a reason to switch,” you explain lamely. He only gives a short nod, motioning for you to follow as he starts walking. 
You do, though perplexed. “School’s in the other direction.” “Thought your class didn’t start until ten today,” he points out. It never appears to you to ask how or why he knows this. When your steps slow down and your thoughts speed up simultaneously, he nudges you along.
“You want your soap or not?” he grumbles and your face lights up a little at that. 
“You got some?” 
Joel gives another quick nod. “Brought them back a few weeks ago. I would’ve given them to you if I knew ya still used them.”
You trot beside him like a puppy, making your way down Rancher Street and up the flight of stairs that leads to the small house clad in white. The noise of the wind chimes tied to a beam above his front porch drifts over to you, the gentle breeze creating a slow melody.
You haven’t been in his upstairs bathroom for years. It’s odd and it feels too intimate, seeing the place where he brushes his teeth in the morning, where he washes himself after a long day. You don't belong in a space this personal. You don't belong to him.
It felt different when you were curled up on the same white tiles, letting him check your bruised and battered body for signs of Infection. For a split moment, it did feel like you belonged, in a way.
Joel's hand brushes over yours as he hands you the soap, the one smelling of jasmine and cotton and safety. 
The rest of the day is a blur of lessons and grading, but the smell of the soap seems to linger, the comforting feeling in your stomach getting you through the work day. It doesn’t end until seven with you staying behind to tutor some kids for an upcoming exam and then to finish preparing said exam. The smell of food fills the air as you open your front door and you smile as you poke your head into the kitchen, “Smells good.”
Lane is seated at the table, a few papers in front of her. Likely an exam of her own, you think to yourself. Even after the world has ended, finals season still exists.
“My mum made that pasta you like so much today. Figured I'd save you some,” she says, nodding towards the tupperware sitting on the counter.
“You're an angel.” You whistle as you head deeper into the house, putting away your jacket and bag, fishing the soap out of the latter and placing it on the bathroom shelf. It makes you pause for a moment. You give a nod to yourself at the sight of the refilled container and make a silent vow to treat yourself to a nice bath today.
An hour later, your stomach is filled with warm pasta, the bathroom damp with steam and your hair soft, smelling just the way you like it. The clock in the small hallway reminds you that it's already past twelve and the knowledge that tomorrow is another day filled with teaching makes you want to crawl into bed fairly quickly. But you're thirsty.
Lane is still in the kitchen, her blue hair a little messy and crowned with a pair of headphones. The music spills out a bit, enough for you to be able to hear the low, steady humming of a song that seems mildly familiar.
You do remember a few songs from before the Outbreak- mainly the ones they played on the radio. But you know that Lane doesn’t, being a few years younger than you, meaning that she barely has any memories of the before.
You're already in your pajamas, shuffling to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. Somehow it always tastes better at night. Or maybe your brain is playing tricks on you.
“Hey, you remember Joel is coming over for dinner on Sunday, right?” you ask with your back to your friend. When no response comes, you gulp down the last bit of water and turn around, giving a small wave in the air between you. 
Lane sits up a little more, pushing one side of her headphones back just enough to free her ear. “Hm?”
“Dinner with Joel, Sunday,” you repeat, a yawn escaping you. 
After a moment, she nods. “Right, I remember. We’re out of blueberries again, by the way.”
“I’ll make sure to restock this weekend then,” you agree, already halfway across the room. You give another small wave and finally head to bed. It looks exactly the same way you left it this morning, the blanket tucked into one side, the pillows arranged against the headboard.
“It's so good to be home,” you mutter to yourself as you crawl under the covers, stretching your body a little. Your left hand reaches for your nightstand and finds the book you've been reading, hoping to get just a tiny bit further tonight. With all the work and the winter festival coming up, you’ve barely made progress, the wooden bookmark still sitting near the front. You put it aside, glancing down at the finely carved piece of woodwork for a moment. Joel gave it to you for your first birthday in Jackson. Then you open the book properly, the worn-out spine cracking slightly. Just a couple of minutes.
But your eyes start to droop after just a few pages. After half a chapter, you're in a deep slumber, the book slipping out of your hands and onto the wooden floor below just as the front door slips shut.
Tumblr media
if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing and commenting <3
198 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 3 months
Text
Ballet König tiiiiime... I have many thoughts because I saw a ballerina with big tits and I am... no better than a man...
Tw for minor reader descriptions (big boobs...)
Being fitted for costumes is always annoying, the costumers always complain about having to fit your chest, and have to let out the corseted tutu to compensate. You always end up with your tits either smashed against your chest or lifted to an almost pornographic degree. This costume seems to be the latter. König stares down at you, you raise a brow at him and he gives you a one word growl.
"Change."
You have to anyway, so you follow the costumers directions and change back into your usual leotard and tights. König is holding your sweatshirt when you make your way out of the changing room, he holds it out to you and you give him a confused look. You take it but don't bother putting it on, you still have practice, it's not like you're about to dance in your sweats.
He follows you through rehearsals, he's supposed to anyway but he's really, really, close. It isn't until the last dancer has filed out of the room for lunch that you finally get an explanation for his behavior. He grabs your tits, or tries to, two big handfuls that make you press your chest into his grip with a quiet noise of surprise. He squeezes you through your leotard and grumbles something. His hands smooth over your chest, down and back up, before he's digging his hands under the neckline and into the garment.
"There they are," he coos bending close, "You've been hiding such pretty things from me Schatzi."
Hiding is a strong word, wearing the dance equivalent of a binder is more accurate. As such, the material wants to stay close to itself, forcing you into Königs hands as he fondles you. He pinches your nipples hard and you whine, your blood rushing to heat your skin as he rolls his thumbs over them soothingly.
"Quite the ballerina," König drags his lips against the shell of your ear, "having such-" he struggles for the right word, toying with you all the while, when it does finally come to him it's with his cock pressing against your ass, "indecent sounds right-" he kisses your neck, "-indecent-" you know the feeling of his teeth anywhere, "-obscene-" they tease your skin, "-naughty-" his tongue replaces their points, dragging over your pulse as König groans, "tits."
"They make costuming, nng, difficult," you bite your lip against making another sound. It's better if you don't talk, you don't want to alert anyone outside the studio that the two leads are misusing the space.
"They fill my hands, Engel," König hums, giving your breasts a firm squeeze as if driving home his point, "how did I not notice them?"
You don't have to think hard to answer that, but you do have to press your hand over your mouth to avoid whining at the way he toys with you. He's never fucked you without a leotard on, that's how, despite all his protests against it, the man has a firm kink. He pinches your nipples hard and you moan, König shushes you, grinds his hard cock against you. Heat pools between your legs, making your leotard and tights sticky with slick. He's teasing you, and you both know it. He was never going to fuck you, there isn't time for it.
"Such a dirty girl," he tells you, "I should have taken you home, and fucked you properly."
You press back against him, prepared for the consequences of asking him to do it now, fuck you on the floor, fuck you against the Barre with your face pressed to the mirror, like he's so fond of, but the door opens. His hands slide off your breasts to rest on your shoulders in a flash. Another dancer wanders in to grab her water bottle, squirting some into her mouth as she turns to walk back out. She waves, you give a small wave back. König doesn't move until the door closes again.
Then his hand is pressing between your legs, bending you forward to truly grind against you. You know he can feel the way you're starting to drool, you can almost hear him smiling. "Needy thing," as if it isn't his fault, "why don't we find somewhere I can enjoy you properly."
277 notes · View notes
runekirikjartan · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Finished the colouring in for Graves & Bambi.
13 notes · View notes
cod-dump · 8 months
Text
Graves, barging into the room: Alright, where is he?!
Shadow 10: Where’s who?
Graves: My son!
Shadow 13: Your son?
Shadow 10, whispering: Please don’t-
Shadow 13: You mean OUR son?
Shadow 13, still whispering: Oh my god
Graves: HE’S MY SON
Shadow 13: FINDERS KEEPERS DOESN’T APPLY TO HUMANS
Graves: OH- OHHH YOU DID NOT-
Shadow 10: Oh my god- Can we not-
(In the next room)
Moose: Uh- Anyone else hear yelling?
Valeria: Shhh don’t worry about that. Now, let’s get back to your Spanish lessons
529 notes · View notes
marsconer · 1 year
Text
writing lord of the rings fanfic is like. *has three versions of how an event goes* *goes into research tangent on folklore and anthropology* * cries about it* it’s what tolkien would have wanted.
2K notes · View notes