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#or if they know a fic already i could read
norr1ssturni0lo · 3 days
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meet my girlfriend
Matt sturniolo x fem!reader
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word count: 2,294
warnings: couple spelling mistakes, a couple swear words, lots of fluff (a bit cheesy😅), italics = flashbacks
summary: Matt and childhood friend Y/N announce their relationship on his personal channel.
A/N: Matt is 18 in this fic and reader is 17 as said in fic!
❗️semi proof read❗️
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Matt sets up the camera on the dashboard, his best friend of 12 years and girlfriend of 2 years in the car seat next to him. Matt hears Y/N let out a sigh, he looked to his side and saw Y/N looking nervous. 
“It’ll be fine my love. The fans already love you, announcing that you're my girlfriend won’t change that, I promise.” Matt says, grabbing her hand and rubbing his thumb across her knuckles in a comforting manner. “We don’t have to tell the fans if you don’t want to darling. It’s completely up to you.” He added on as he lifts her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. 
“No, I want to do it. Just some silly nerves that’s all.” She replied, intertwining their hands and smiling at Matt. 
“You ready?” He asks. 
“Yeah, press record.” 
Matt hits record and started to talk to the camera, his hand still intertwined with Y/N’s. 
“Hey guys, welcome to my personal channel, where I will be posting content without Nick and Chris. I won’t post as often on here, but I will try my best.” Matt starts with a little laugh before continuing.  
“For my first video on this channel, as you could probably guess by the title, I’m going to introduce you to my girlfriend, she’s a girl that many of you will be familiar with and if not then she’s about to introduce herself.” He added on, Matt gestures for Y/N to introduce herself, she gives a little wave and smile to the camera. 
“Hi everyone, most of you already know me but for those of you who don’t, hi, my name is Y/N and as Matt said, I am his girlfriend. I’m 17 years old, unfortunately I’m still in high school unlike Matthew here” she points to Matt and he lets out a little laugh at her dislike for high school before she carried on introducing herself.
“I just started my senior year, and like the triplets, I am from originally from Boston and I have known the triplets since I was in second grade and they were in third grade I think, is that right?” She looked over to Matt for confirmation to which he nodded. 
“Yep. She’s been in our lives since we were 8 and she was 7. She’s known us longer than Trevor!” He jokes, the couple chuckled together at his random fact. 
“Anyway, today, in honour of announcing our relationship, we’ve decided to answer some questions. I posted a question box on my Instagram story and we’re just going to scroll through and answer some of them.” Matt states. 
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up Instagram and clicked on his story to see the questions. He read out the first question. 
“Okay, first question is ‘how did you guys meet?’ you wanna answer it Y/N/N?” she nodded before answering.  
“So, I actually met Nick first out of the triplets, mine and Nick’s science classes got merged one day because my teacher was sick and me and Nick got paired for a project together. Me and Nick became friends and one day he invited me to his house after school, and that’s how I met Matt and Chris, and we were all inseparable ever since. I constantly got them mixed up until they were about 14.” she replies, Matt and Y/N both smiling at the memory of how many times she got the triplets mixed up. Matt handed his phone to Y/N to read out the next question. 
“Okay next question is ‘who made the first move?’ Matt surprisingly, made the first move, I’ll let him tell the story of how it happened.”  
“So, it’s a pretty cliche story, but we were at a party for our high school’s sports teams and cheerleaders which we both had to be at since she’s a cheerleader and I was on the lacrosse team. Me, Chris, Nick, Y/N and a few other people were playing spin the bottle and it was my turn to spin and it landed on Y/N. At this point I’d had a crush on Y/N since we were in middle school, but I just never ‘had the balls to do anything about it’ as Chris would always say to me.” He rolls his eyes, remembering all the times Chris had tried to get Matt to tell Y/N how he felt. He carried on telling the story.
“So obviously, me and Y/N kissed and then the day after at school, I left a note in her locker asking her out on a date, obviously, she said yes to the date and low and behold, 2 years later, here we are. Pretty cheesy but, hey, what can you do about a man in love?” He shrugged his shoulders with a small smirk on his face. 
“Fun fact, I still have the note to this day.” Y/N stated proudly, looking at the camera. Matt looked over at her shocked. 
“You do?” He asked, looking at his girl in pure adoration. She looked at Matt and nodded her head, smiling at him. She handed him his phone back so he could read the next question. 
“Okay, next question ‘what are you lockscreens on your phones? and what is the story behind them if there is one’”  
Y/N pulled out her own phone and Matt locked his so that he was ready to show his lockscreen. She turned her phone around and showed her lockscreen. (a/n: pretend it’s Matt😭)
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“Mine is a picture of Matt from a couple weeks ago. Me and the triplets went to the safari park, and I got this picture of Matt looking at the map and trying to figure out where one of the rides were and thought it was cute.” she smiled at her lockscreen before turning off her phone. 
*flashback to safari park* 
Y/N giggled as Matt looked at the map in his hands, confusion evident on his face. The four of them were stood in the middle of the path, Matt trying to figure out how to get to the log flume. 
“Matt c’mon mannnn” Chris complained. Nick rolled his eyes at his younger brother.  
“Baby, do you need help?” Y/N asked. Matt shook his head. 
“Really? Cause you’ve been looking at the map longer than Nick was looking at the elephants.” she chuckled, and Chris laughed along with her, Nick had spent ten minutes staring at the elephants earlier that day. She walked over to him and looked at the map, trying to help him.  
“I got it, I got it, gimme a second.” Matt said. Another minute passed of Matt looking at the map, looking adorably confused with a little smile on his face, Y/N thought he looked absolutely adorable and quickly took a picture before Matt laughed to himself and smiled as he looked at his brothers and girlfriend.  
“I got it! It’s this way.” he pointed in the direction of the log flume, and they all made their way to the ride. 
*end of flashback* 
Matt turned on his phone and showed his lockscreen to the camera. (a/n: again, pretend it’s y/n and Matt😭)
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“Mine is a picture that Nick took of us in the car about a month or so ago. We were going on our annual family trip and as always, Y/N came along with us, and we were parked at the gas station and I noticed Y/N had fell asleep on me and Nick saw and took a picture of us and sent it to me and it’s one of my favourite photos ever” Matt spoke. 
*flashback to the family trip* 
Y/N and Matt were currently sat in the very back on the car with Nick. Chris, Trevor and Justin sat in front of them, and Marylou and Jimmy were sat in the front seats. They were parked at a gas station filling up the car and Y/N was falling asleep with her head in Matt’s lap, sharing headphones with him and Nick was sat on his phone. 
“You tired baby?” Matt whispered, looking down at the sleepy girl in his lap. She let out an incoherent mumbled reply. 
“Look at this TikTok!” Chris said loudly, turning around to face Matt and Nick. Matt shushed him.  
“Y/N’s asleep Chris be quiet!”  
“Shit! sorry, look at this TikTok though” Chris repeated, much quieter. The boys collectively laughed quietly at the TikTok he’d shown them, Chris turned back around and showed Justin the same TikTok. 
Matt moved a piece of hair out of Y/N’s face, smiling at his sleeping girl. Matt was unaware of Nick looking at the couple with a soft smile of his own on his face, he’d always been their biggest supporter ever since they told him about their relationship. Nick quickly opened his camera on his phone and snapped a picture of the couple and immediately sent it to Matt, the younger brother opened the message and a grin automatically grew on his face. 
“Thanks man, I love this photo” Matt spoke as he set the picture as his wallpaper and sending it to Y/N, so she also had a copy of the photo. Nick smiled.  
“Of course, I’m your personal photographer.” He joked and the brothers softly laughed before going back to doing their own thing waiting for Jimmy to get back in the car after filling it up. 
*end of flashback* 
Y/N put her phone back in her pocket and Matt passed her his phone to read the next question.  
“Aww this one is cute ‘what is your favourite memory with one another?’ I love this question” she smiled.
“my favourite memory with Matt is probably last Christmas when Matt woke me up around 4 in the morning because it was snowing so much and he just couldn’t wait to go build a snowman, this kid literally had a jacket and coat and my shoes ready for me and just woke me up.” They both started laughing at the memory from last Christmas and Matt hit his head on the steering wheel as he leaned forward laughing, causing Y/N to laugh even more as Matt held his head in his hand.
“Laughing at my pain, I see how it is missy.” Matt exclaimed, he reached over the center console of his car and started tickling her sides causing the younger girl to yelp out and tears started streaming down her face as he continued to tickle her. 
“Okay I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Y/N shouted, out of breath, softly chuckling as she held her hands up in surrender. She passed Matt’s phone back to him.  
The couple continued to answer questions and laugh with each other replaying memories from as early as their childhood to as recent as last week.  
“Okay, final question, this was asked by quite a few people ‘what is your favourite thing about each other?’ We’ll do one physical aspect and then one personality trait, okay?” Matt spoke and Y/N nodded in agreement before Matt continued. 
“My favourite physical thing about Y/N has gotta be her freckles, I’ll admit that I have caught myself counting the freckles on her face before while she’s been asleep” he admitted with a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks.
“My favourite thing about her personality wise is how persistent she is. I’ve seen her get into heated debates with Nick over the most random things and most of the time she’ll win, and I could honestly sit there for hours watching them argue back and forth, it’s so funny” Matt adds with a laugh and he smiles in Y/N’s direction. 
“It’s true, I’ll never let up if I think my opinion is right.” She said laughing with him. “Anyway, my favourite physical thing about Matt is probably his smile, his has got to be my favourite smile ever!” She said proudly, the blue eyed boy next to her stared at her with a soft expression and a wide smile on his face as she carried on talking.
“My favourite personality trait of Matt’s is how attentive and kind hearted he is, like I remember before he made this channel, we were sat on the couch together and he said he wanted to make this channel to help people who may be struggling with mental health like him and to make it a safe space for everyone. And he’s just such a genuinely great guy and nowadays, that’s pretty hard to come by and I couldn’t be more thankful for him. I can confidently say, I can see Matt being the guy I marry when I’m older.” she finished talking. He smiled at her for what felt like the millionth time this video, his cheeks started to hurt from how much she made him smile. 
“I love you baby” Matt spoke, planting a kiss on her cheek, her cheeks flushed.  
“I love you too Matt. So much.” She replied, smiling at the boy she’d been in love with for as long as she could remember. 
“I hope you enjoyed this video guys, we both enjoyed filming it. We love you. Stay happy and stay smiling.” Matt smiled at the camera and Y/N blew a kiss to the camera before he stopped recording. He put the camera down and looked over to Y/N 
“Did you mean that baby? About me being the guy you’d marry?” He asked her, his eyes full of love. She nodded with a smile on her face. 
“Of course, my love. You’re the best person I’ve ever known. You’re my person” she replied. 
He stretched over the center console and placed a kiss on her lips, both of them smiling into the kiss. 
“You’re my person too darling. I’ll marry you one day I promise.” 
And he did.
They got married a few years later.  
A/N: Lowkey was inspired by @imwetforyourmom one shot that was like this. Hope you don’t mind me stealing your idea ahah🫶🏻😅
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faun-the-fawn77 · 3 days
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"𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃"
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Genre: SMUT
Word Count: 4.0k
Warnings: oral(m! receiving), creampie, breeding, mentions of having kids, clit play, overstimulation, squirting, brief fingering, whipped!Lucifer, Lucifer being a sweetheart, reader is horny 25/8
Desc: A one night stand is a one night stand... right? What happens when Lucifer keeps going back to the same fallen angel just for a taste of Heaven? Oh no... seems the Devil has caught feelings once again!
Note: Lucifer smut;) like there isn't enough already. Requests are open now! This is third and final fic of the votes. Don't worry to those who voted for others! I will be working on all those fics:) Next after this one is a part two to "Lips Of An Angel". Just have to...find a song that will match the part two:)
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I’m so addicted to
All the things you do
When you’re going down on me
In between the sheets
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
When you’re loving me
Another shitty day in Hell. Sinners were offing each other in the streets of the Pride Ring. The angelic building in the middle of the city shone brightly in the red light, the clock on each side had big letters reading ‘36 DAYS’. 
Lucifer, King of Hell himself, wandered the streets of Cannibal town, a mission in his mind. He tried to avoid Rosie ‘cause she’s a talker and would only make him late for where he needed to go after getting the thing he came to this lovely town for. He scoured the shops looking for the one thing that stood out to him last time he was here. It reminded him so much of Her. Of the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind. 
“Well, hello to our dear king! How are you on this hellish evening?” Lucifer growled lowly at the sound of that radio prick's voice. He turned to the red deer demon and pulled him down by his collar.
“Listen, I don’t have time for your theatrics today. I have places to be and things to get and I don’t need some lowlife sinner messing that up for me,” Lucifer let go of the demon’s coat and strided off to the jewelry shop he spotted out of the corner of his eye, waving behind to the overlord, “Hope you have a bad day!”
Later that evening, Lucifer turned up at his daughter’s hotel. He always came under the guise of seeing his daughter but everyone knew he came for one particular guest of his daughters. Knocking on the giant doors, he waited ‘till either his daughter or the deer prick opened up. 
The doors opened a few minutes later and Lucifer was greeted by, thankfully, his daughter’s voice, “Oh! Back again, dad? But I jus-”
“Charlie! You know I’m always here to see you! I just missed you so much that I couldn’t wait a few days!” Lucifer walked in and hugged his daughter. Vaggie stood off to the side, peering out the door for any dangers. 
Charlie gasped before smiling nervously and patted her dad’s back. She pulled away and held him by the shoulders. 
“Dad, you know I love when you visit. We all do! But uh- Everyone, especially Angel, has noticed that you only come here for a certain someone…” Charlie trailed off. Lucifer stood there silently and blinked slowly, almost frog-like.
“Ah…” He didn’t know what to say. Was he that obvious? The weight in his suit pocket seemed to weigh down on him immensely. He gripped the apple on his cane tightly. 
“Is she here?” Charlie smiled. She wanted her dad to be happy. After her mom had left them, her dad was in a slump. She checked up on him as much as she could but she could tell he wasn’t getting any better. After finding Y/N, a fallen angel just like her father, Charlie brought her with to her family home in hopes of them becoming friends. After that, Lucifer has been stopping by more than he used to. Charlie thought it was because they were good friends but after what Angel told the group last time…Charlie knew her father had fallen once again and this time harder than he fell for Lilith. 
“She’s here. Last I spoke with her, she was working on a secret project. She wouldn’t tell me what it was.” Lucifer looked about ready to bounce off the walls of the hotel lobby. 
“Well I’ll just uh- yeah…” Lucifer ran off towards the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse at the top of the hotel. He rocked on his heels as the lift made its way up to the top. He stuck his clawed left hand into his suit pocket and clutched the velvet box.
“Well, hello there, handsome.” Y/N’s voice was like smooth silk. It calmed Lucifer’s nerves down, the breath stuck in his throat was exhaled as he stepped foot into his…friend’s penthouse. He wouldn’t call her friend with the amount of times they’ve gotten intimate but, he didn’t know what else to call it. 
“Hello, darling. How is your night going?” Lucifer plopped a seat on the sofa in her living room. He watched as she rounded the island in her kitchen, holding a cup of coffee and wearing nothing but a white silk robe. 
“I’m doing wonderfully, Luci. What prompted the visit?” She folded her legs as she sat on the other end of the sofa. Lucifer cleared his throat and shifted his legs. The robe was a bit see-through which made her breasts very noticeable to him.
“Just wanted to see you…” Y/N smiled cheekily. She knew what she was doing to him. With the way she sat to what she was wearing, Lucifer couldn’t believe he had this much self-control to not jump on her.
“Is that all?” Lucifer gulped. He shifted in his seat once again and gazed away from Y/N’s intense stare. Her eyes darkened with lust as she continued to stare right at him. 
“What do you actually want, Luci?” She placed her mug down, sliding her bottom over and closer to her partner. She watched him cross his legs and grip the arm of the sofa.
“Come on, Luci. Tell me what you desire~” She ran a hand up his arm and over his chest. Lucifer watched with bated breath as she undid his bowtie and slipped the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Her fingers snuck under the shirt and touched all over his pale chest.
“Luciiii~” Lucifer felt the last thin thread snap at the tone of her voice. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto the couch. He roughly kissed her and made sure to slide his forked tongue between her lips and into her mouth. He heard her moan and felt her hands run up his arms and into his hair. 
Lucifer pulled away with a dazed look in his red eyes. He was straddling her lap, his erection pushing painfully against his suit pants. 
“Need help with that?” Lucifer sat back as Y/N leaned over him, running her hands from his hair, down his semi-exposed chest, and to his tightened pants. She undid his black belt and slipped it from his pants. She popped the button on his pants and unzipped the zipper. 
“Please…” Lucifer whined. Y/N looked up at him and smirked. She made sure to go slow when she pulled his pants down his legs. Her knees hit the carpeted floor when his pants did. Her soft hands slid from his ankles and all the way up to his boxers elastic. 
“Be patient, Luci.”
“God, I’m addicted…” Lucifer mumbled. He was very addicted to her. To all the things she does to him both in and out of the sheets.
Y/N hummed and brought her mouth closer towards his erection. Her breath fanned across the dampened tip and she quickly tore through his duck-printed boxers. The shreds of fabric fell to the carpet. 
“Oh, Luci…” She licked a stripe up from his balls to tip. Lucifer moaned loudly and rushed to cover his mouth. Y/N laughed, pulling his hand from his mouth.
“You can be as loud as you want, my dear. No one can hear us.” With that, she took the tip of his dick into her hot mouth. Lucifer gripped the sofa, tearing streaks into it with his claws. His breathing became laboured as Y/N made work on his cock. She swirled her tongue around the tip, her hand coming up and wrapping around the base. She wanted to antagonise him. Make him want her.
“Oh my Lord, please! Please do something…” Lucifer could feel his patience run thin. Patience was definitely not one of his virtues, if he had any left. 
Y/N hummed. She removed her hand and placed both of them on his thighs, bracing herself, before taking him whole. 
“OH, Y/N/N! Plea~ah,” Lucifer moaned. He bucked his hips up into her mouth and down her throat. He wanted to feel guilty but he was so into the pleasure that she was giving him. Her nails dug into his thighs, her moans vibrated down his length which caused him to gag her once again. 
“I-I’m sorry! You just-hah-you just are so good,” Lucifer praised. She may have been an angel but by God was her mouth sinful. 
Ohh, girl, let’s take it slow
So as for you, well, you know where to go
I wanna take my love and hate you ‘til the end
It’s not like you to turn away
From all the bullshit I can’t take
It’s not like me to walk away
It’s been a few days since Lucifer has been intimate with his partner. His friends with benefits as he has learned from Angel Dust. He was scared. Every time they’ve gotten intimate, Lucifer was on the verge of telling her he loves her. It took all it had in him to not shout it when he came. 
“Oh, Rosie. I don’t know what to do!” Lucifer plonked his head on the table face first. His glass of whiskey shook at the action. 
Rosie, the one who made sure the cannibals in her town stayed in check, patted her king on his head. She smiled down at the fallen angel and watched as he mumbled to himself.
“Honey, if you don’t tell her how you feel, then how is she supposed to know you feel this way? What if someone else sweeps her off her feet? She is nothing like that ex of yours, ya know.” Lucifer grumbled. He knew she wasn’t like Lilith. Lilith was a cold-hearted bitch who cared about no one but herself. 
“I’m trying to take it slow.”
“Is having a one night stand and then becoming friends with benefits ‘taking it slow’?” Lucifer glared at the smiling cannibal. She was right and he knew it. He sighed and dug into his pocket. He brought out the velvet box and slid it over to his friend. 
“I wanted to give her this when I confessed… I don’t know if it’s too much…” Rosie gently took the box and opened it. She gasped when she saw what it was. 
“Lucifer! This is gorgeous! I’m sure she’ll love it, honey.” Lucifer felt his shoulders sag with relief. The piece in the velvet box was beautiful. It was a silver ring detailed with leaves. Deer antlers were what held the moss agate stone in the middle. He learned from Husk and Angel that she only wore silver jewellery and that her favourite stone was moss agate. It may not have been the most expensive but he wanted it to come from the heart and not from his wealth. 
“I know she will. I just…I hate how much I love her. It’s suffocating with her not knowing.” Lucifer was still scared. Scared that she’d walk away and leave everything they’ve built behind. Just like Lilith. He knew it wasn’t like Y/N to turn away. He knew because he’d attend some of those silly exercises his daughter hosted. 
“Tell her. Let her know and don’t bullshit your way outta this.” Rosie slid the ring back to Lucifer. She watched as he breathed in deeply, pocketed the box, and made his way to the door to her shop. 
“I won’t walk away from her. Not like I did to Lilith.” With that, Lucifer exited the shop and made his way to the hotel.
I’m so addicted to 
All the things you do 
When you’re going down on me
In between the sheets
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
When you’re loving me
Yeah
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite king! How are you today, my dear?” Lucifer had arrived at Y/N’s place in seconds flat after leaving Rosies. He had spider lilies in one hand and a stuffed black cat in the other. Both being her favourite things she’s seen in Hell. 
“Good! I just wanted to have a chat with you. Hangout for a bit after all the paperwork I did this morning.” Lucifer watched her eyes light up at the sight of the flowers and stuffie. She grabbed them from his hands and raced to get the flowers in some water. She placed the stuffed cat on her loveseat near her bookshelf. 
Lucifer stepped out of the lift and slowly walked towards the kitchen of her penthouse. Y/N was humming as she cut the bottoms of the flowers and placed them in the black vase. Her fingers were nimble and held the flowers delicately to ensure they didn't get damaged. 
“What did you want to talk about, sweetheart?” Lucifer took a seat at the island, snatching an apple from the basket of fruit in the centre. 
“Nothing important… uhm, how was your day?” Lucifer was nervous. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t drop the L-bomb on her. She was too important to him to lose. 
“It was amazing! Your daughter is such a sweetie! She’s helped me adjust to life in Hell wonderfully. I wish I could pay her back somehow…” Lucifer looked at the angel. This angel was of pure heart and faith. He knew Y/N was still struggling with being in Hell. He knew because he could see the way she hid behind his daughter when they went out or when she would quote from the bible only to grow embarrassed when the others looked at her in confusion. 
“She is a sweetie, isn’t she? I’m glad you’re adjusting to Hell. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable while you’re here.” Lucifer bit into the apple. Y/N watched as the juice dripped from his chin. She licked her lips, walking towards the island and having a seat on the stool near Lucifer. 
Lucifer continued to munch on the apple, not noticing Y/N’s hand creeping towards his thigh. When she made contact, Lucifer jumped and choked on a bit of the sweet fruit. 
“Surely you didn’t come here just to talk.” Lucifer felt flushed. He cleared his throat and set the apple core down. 
“I promise it was only just to talk. I know I said it was nothing important but-”
“Shh, Luci. I can see how tense your shoulders are. Why don’t I-”
Lucifer stood up abruptly causing Y/N’s hand to fall from his lap. He stepped back and sucked in a breath. He reached into his pocket and produced the black velvet box for Y/N to see. He could see the confusion in her eyes. 
“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much that the thought of you not knowing was suffocating me. I know it only started out as us being friends and delving into a one night stand that then turned us into friends with benefits. After a while, it wasn’t just the sex for me. I wanted all of you. Heart, body, mind, and soul. I wanted to feel what it was like for you to love me for me and not for my body. I hope this doesn’t scare you off but I wanted you to know how I feel about you.” Lucifer finished up and placed the small box in front of her. He was sweating profusely and his hands gripped the apple on his cane tightly. He watched as Y/N lifted the box up gently and opened it. Her eyes glittered and he swore he saw tears in her eyes.
“Luci…” Her breath was airy. Like he took her breath away.
“Luci, thank you. No one has done this much for me since I’ve been created. You don’t have to be scared ‘cause I love you just as much.” Lucifer could cry. She felt the same! He smiled brightly and bounded up to the tall angel and hugged her tightly. 
“Oh my Hell! I could bounce off these walls in happiness! Oh, I love you so much, my angel!” Lucifer could feel the vibrations of her laugh. She hugged him back just as tightly, the ring he gave her glittering on her right hand. 
“Thank you for accepting me, Y/N/N,” Lucifer mumbled into her breasts. He felt her fingers run through his golden locks as she hummed.
“No need to thank me, honey. I love you so very much.”
“Let’s head to the bedroom. I need to get this energy out~”
And I know when it’s getting rough
All the times we spend
Trying to make this love something better than
Just making up again
It’s not like you to turn away
All the bullshit I can’t take
Just when I think I can walk away
They’ve only had a few fights but they were only about Lucifer's work. He was the king and every time he went to sign off on a meeting paper to say he wouldn’t be able to make it, Y/N scolded him and told him he needed to go or the residents of the seven rings of hell won’t take him seriously anymore. 
She was right. Every time they went out on a date, Lucifer could hear the whispers and snickering. He was gone for years when Lilith left and everyone had assumed that he was gone. Now that he’s back and appearing more in the public eye, the sinners in Pride casted snide remarks his way. 
“Honey, a letter just came in from Ozzie. Have you always had a family dinner every month with the seven sins and Charlie?” Lucifer paled at the mention of the dinner. He hasn’t been to one since Lilith left him. Charlie had tried to get him to go a couple times only for him to turn her down and go back to wallowing in his sadness. 
“Uh- yes… yes we do. Ozzie was the one that actually wanted it to happen.” Lucifer bounced his knee nervously. Y/N hummed and made his way into the study and up to his desk. She set down the letter and looked down at him.
“How about we go? Ozzie seems to want to meet me and to introduce us to that little imp of his. This’ll be good for you! We can see family and maybe we could invite the residents of the hotel? Have the sins come from their rings and hang out in Pride?” Y/N has been encouraging him to get back into contact with his family since they’ve gotten together. Seemed she was very family oriented. I mean, she had always had him finish inside her whenever they were intimate. He had a sense that she wanted kids but she hasn’t said anything to him yet. 
“Fine. How about you write the letter back to Ozzie. Have him send out a message to the others that we’ll be having the dinner at our place. I’ll fly over to the hotel and inform Charlie.” Y/N squeaked and pulled a blank paper from her lover’s pile of papers on the desk. She produced a quill with the snap of her fingers and wrote out the letter. Lucifer was happy that she was excited to meet his family. Every time they had the petty arguments about his work and paperwork, she would ignore him ‘til she got too horny and then seduced him into bed. He didn’t want this love to be about fighting and making up with sex. He wanted it to be more than that,
“I told him that we’ll have the dinner this Friday! Make sure you mention to Charlie that I invited everyone from the hotel to be there!” Lucifer smiled as she leaned down to kiss his rosy cheek. She bounced off to who-knows-where while Lucifer sat back in his desk chair and sighed. He had to talk to her. 
I’m so addicted to 
All the things you do
When you’re going down on me
In between the sheets
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
I’m so addicted to
The things you do
When you’re going down on me
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
When you’re loving me
Yeah
When you’re loving me
“Oh fuck! Lucifer, right there!” The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and ragged breathing. Lucifer was pounding mercilessly into his lover’s pussy. He watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as his dick hit just the right spot inside her. Her moans echoed off the walls, her hands clenching the silk sheets beneath her. 
“Come on, baby. You have one more in you, don’t ya?” Lucifer groaned out into her ear. His stomach tightened when he felt her clench at his words. He smirked and brought a clawed hand to her pussy. His pointer and middle finger rubbing circles on her clit. She moaned loudly at the contact before she started to shake as her orgasm crashed through her. Juices squirted from her dripping pussy and coated his lower abdomen and thighs. 
“Oh fucking hell…” Lucifer moaned. His dick throbbed and he finally came into her clenching hole. His seed spilled out while he was still in her and when he pulled out he made sure to take his fingers, scoop up the mess, and push it back into her. Y/N moaned and tried to push his hand away only for him to grab it and shush her.
“It’s okay, honey. Just wanna make sure it takes…” Lucifer held still inside of her and when she calmed her breathing down, he made ‘come hither’ motions. She squeaked out and tried to squirm away only for Lucifer to pin her down. 
“One more. One more time, sweetheart. I need to make sure it takes,” Lucifer whispered. He leaned up and over her, pulling his fingers from her pussy and replacing it with his hardened dick. He saw her eyes tear up from overstimulation. He kissed her lips, holding onto her hips and slowly drove his hips into hers. 
“That’s it, sweetie. You can take it. I got you.” Lucifer whispered sweet nothings into her ear as he began to pick up his pace. His grip tightened on her hips when her pussy clenched around him. He moaned out, dropping his head onto her breasts. 
“I’m c-close, Luci! Please!” Lucifer thrusted his hips faster, making sure to hit the spot that made her see stars. Her eyes clenched shut and her hips moved to meet his hips. Her moans grew louder as her orgasm grew closer. 
“Oh, Hell…” Lucifer almost whined when Y/N tightened around his length, her moans loud as she shuddered. Her orgasm hit her full force, her pussy squirting out juices once again. Lucifer sped up until he finally released another load into her abused hole. 
“I want you to be a mama. Charlie already loves you, why not have another?” Lucifer mumbled. He dropped down on top of her, his dick still in her to keep his load inside to make sure it takes. 
Y/N ran her fingers through his messy hair and smiled down at him. He was such a softie for kids. Whenever they would visit the other rings, Y/N made sure they at least went to the circuses that were held that day to support the kids. 
“I love you, Luci.” 
Lucifer snuggled into her more and murmured out tiredly, “I love you most.”
How can I make it through
All the things you do
There’s just gotta be more to you and me
I’m so addicted to 
All the things you do
When you’re going down on me
In between the sheets
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
It’s unlike anything
I’m so addicted to
All the things you do
When you’re going down on me
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
I’m so addicted to you
Addicted to you
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WOOOO SECOND LUCI FIC!!! Hope I did him justice:')
Enjoy!!
And check out the new poll!
Upcoming fics!
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yelenasdiary · 3 days
Note
How about the story of Nat realizing she's pregnant and dealing with it all. Then the day to day life of Nat and her babygirl
Wondering
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader
Summary: With help from her best friend, Clint, Natasha escapes the control of the Red Room and prepares for a whole new life.
Angst, Comfort.
Warnings: Mentions of Red Room, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, Childbirth | 1.7K
Translations: милый (darling), я люблю тебя, солнышко (I love you, sunshine)
AC: I think this is the perfect request for the first fic of the AU! Thank you for sending this x I hope this helps set a little backstory for Nat.
A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist
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Natasha had been nothing but quiet for the last four days since staying with Clint at his farmhouse. It was a big house for a man who lived alone, Clint assumed that his friend was worried that the widows of the Red Room would find her and take her back but the look in Natasha's eyes told him that was far from her worries.
"Alright, tell me what's going on" Clint spoke as he sat down next to Nat on the sofa. His friend looked at him and sighed lightly, "Nat, come on, you can tell me" he added. Natasha knew the time would come and she would have to talk somewhat about her time in the Red Room. She and Clint have been on the run since she met him, although this was not the first time, she was able to escape, this time was the only time they haven't found her and brought her back. 
"Remember how I was telling you about the graduation ceremony?" Natasha replied, Clint nodded. "Well, I didn't tell you all the stages before it. Before the graduation and after you've completed the program, you're to hav-" Natasha paused, the trauma of her life catching up to her, although she was still young, in her early 20s, she felt she had already lived a lifetime of trauma. Clint placed his hand on top of hers for comfort, "whatever it is Nat, we'll get through it" he assured her. 
"I'm pregnant" the words spewed out. Nat could see the questions flying around Clint's mind and deserved to answer them before he asked. "It's Dreykov's way of getting more widows without getting caught, they inseminate you, you give birth, they take the baby, and you go to what they call recovery which is just them brainwashing you until you have completely forgotten the last 9 months. After that, you go through the graduation ceremony and…well the rest is what you already know" she explained. 
Clint took a moment to process the news he was just told, "do you" He paused unsure if his question would offend his best friend, but it was something he needed to know to be able to help, "do you want to keep the baby?" He asked. Natasha nodded as a soft smile tugged at her lips, "I've done enough bad in the world, and I'll be damned if I let them do the same to my baby. I know this isn't what you expected so I don't expect you keep me here, but I do need a little time to work something out" she replied. 
"Don't be stupid Nat. You can stay here as long as you and the baby need, you're safe here, I promise" Clint spoke sternly, assuring his words got through to his best friend. Natasha hugged him tightly, thanking him for his understanding and kindness and for a moment any worries she currently had were no more. 
----
Pregnancy for Natasha was a whole new chapter that she wasn't prepared for, but she loved every single moment of it. It gave her a sense of normality; she spent her days learning new things that would help her for when her baby would enter the world. Clint helped her along the way, he even began building a small homestead for Natasha to have a little more privacy when her baby was born. It was only a few months into her pregnancy that Clint met Laura. 
Each night Natasha would read you stories from a children's book she would buy from the thrift shop, even though you weren't born yet, the little actions she did while pregnant gave her great comfort and made her even more excited to finally hold you in her arms. She would talk to you about anything she was doing, baking cookies for Clint and Laura? She would be talking you through each step and even asking you questions as if you could actually answer her, sometimes you would kick, and she would take that as an answer. 
Even through all the happiness, joy and excitement there was still worries and fears growing with each day. She was suspicious as to why she'd gone almost her entire pregnancy without even a sighting or feeling that Dreykov was after her. Clint assured her that his farm was a safe place and even offered for Natasha to join the Avengers after you were born, and she felt ready. It was an idea that she spent time thinking about but at the end of the day all she wanted to do was make sure you were happy, healthy and safe.
"Woah there милый" Natasha chuckled, rubbing her hand over her bump, "this isn't the world cup" she added. 
"Kicking a lot today?" Clint asked, taking a sip of his afternoon coffee.
"She hasn't stopped" Nat replied. Clint looked up at her with wide eyes, "she? When did you find out" he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice. Natasha couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips while her hand naturally rubbed her seven-month pregnant stomach, "I didn't need to find out" she replied, "She was always going to be a little girl" she added but she didn't let the faint memory of the Red Room bring out the happiness she had been having with each day you grew. 
Clint got up and hugged Natasha and congratulated her, he could see the sparkle in her eyes for the first time ever, he'd never seen her so happy in the few short years that he had known her. "I wanna show you something" he said, taking her by the hand and walking her out to the small homestead that he had just finished and was waiting until the next day to give her the key. 
"I was going to wait until tomorrow but given the news, maybe you want to start planning out the nursery" Clint smiled. Tears built up in Nat's eyes, "what do you think baby girl?" Natasha whispered as she looked around the empty room, "you can paint it, do whatever you like with it, this is all yours" Clint said.
"You've done so much for us, I can't thank you enough" Natasha turned on her heels and hugged him, "thank you" she whispered. 
Over the last couple months of pregnancy, Natasha was preparing for you to enter this world. She and Clint painted the nursery in a soft pastel green color, she hung a photo from her first ultrasound on the wall above your changing table, baby animal décor stickers were also put on the walls. Clint helped up together all the future and placed it wherever Natasha thought would be best and once the nursery was complete, she couldn't wait to rock you to sleep in her arms in the rocking chair or watch you play with your toys on the purple rug when you would get a little older. 
You entered the big wide world at 5:23am on a Thursday morning, healthy and a little smile that made everybody melt. Natasha didn't want to let you go, she could barely take her eyes off you, even when Clint and Laura came to bring the two of you home, she was nervous as anything when Clint held you. 
"Do we have a name yet for the little one?" a nurse asked, "we really need to get the birth certificate done today" she added. 
Natasha nodded, "Y/n Melina Romanoff" she replied with a soft smile. 
"Melina?" Clint questioned, "I'll tell you later, now give me my baby" the red head replied with a soft smile and arms wide open. 
"A beautiful name, I'll finalise the certificate" the nurse smiled, writing your name on a piece of paper. 
----
Natasha was loving every moment of motherhood, even when she felt like she was going to fall asleep while feeding you and when sometimes she thought it was going to be another sleepless night on the cards but being your mother was the only thing she wanted to do every single day. When you slept, she slept and often Clint would find her asleep in the rocking chair by your crib when he came to check on things. Clint and Laura helped as much as they could, but of course, your mother was head strong and said she was fine with looking after you on her own.
"You look exhausted" Clint said as he placed a small bag of groceries on the counter for Nat. "She just didn't want to sleep last night" she replied, pouring herself a mug of hot coffee and sitting down at the small table in her kitchen. "Why don't Laura and I take her for the night so you can get a decent sleep for once" Clint offered but Natasha shook her head, "it's not that I don't want that, I just hate the idea of not being with her" Nat admitted.
"She'll just be up at house, you need some sleep Nat, you can't keep being supermom on coffee and 3 hours of sleep each day" Clint spoke, worried for his best friend. "Besides, how else am I going to show her how great of an uncle I am if you don't let me do that" he added to lighten the mood. Natasha cocked a brow as she took a sip of her coffee, deep down she knew she had to eventually let her guard down just a little and allow others to help. She just wanted the best for you.
"One night" Natasha replied. 
Clint smiled, "you've got it" 
As the weeks turned to months, things got easier for the new mother, each day you had her in awe. Nat eventually did allow for Clint and Laura to spend more time with you while she had a little me time and caught up on sleep. She loved taking you for walks around the property in your pusher, she loved bath time and hearing your little giggles and of course capturing your sweet smile whenever she played peek-a-boo. 
At night when she would pop her head into your room to check on you, she found herself watching you for minutes on end. Her mind wondering about what life was going to bring for the two of you, what tomorrow would bring. She often wondered what your first words would be, when you would take your first steps and what all your favorite things would be but for now, she wanted nothing more than to just enjoy these early years and learn everything she possibly could about you.
"я люблю тебя, солнышко" your mother whispered as she placed the soft kiss on your forehead.
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sunkissed-zegras · 16 hours
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★ TO BE KNOWN IS TO BE LOVED ─── NM¹⁰
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❪ requested -> "ON MY KNEES for clingy nika hcs/fic" ❫
─ warnings | nothing but sweet fluff and mention of deadlines (like schoolwork)
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
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"BABY," NIKA POUTED AS she gazed up at you, her brown eyes filled with neediness and slight irritation.
You glanced back at your girlfriend for a split second before looking back at your computer screen. "Yes, babe?"
You had a project due tomorrow afternoon and you didn't wanna wake up early to finish it up or rush, so this was the only time you could do it. However, your girlfriend had other plans.
She'd just got done with practice and barged into your dorm, Nika dropped her gym bag on the floor and flopped onto your bed, her presence adding a layer of distraction to your already cluttered mind.
"I missed you," Nika continued as she gazed up at you, her voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and longing.
You couldn't help but smile at her, despite your mounting stress. "I missed you too, Nika," you replied, reaching over to ruffle her hair affectionately.
"Then act like it," Nika rolled her eyes as you sighed.
"Nika, I really need to get this done," you said, trying to keep your tone gentle but firm.
Nika crossed her arms, her expression softening as she looked at you with those big, pleading eyes. "I know, but it feels like you always have something to do. Can't you take a break, just for a little while? We haven't spent any time together all week."
Guilt washed over you. She was right; between classes, assignments, and everything else, your time together had been scarce. You glanced at your computer screen, then back at Nika, who was now sitting up, her eyes never leaving yours.
"Alright," you said finally, closing your laptop with a sense of finality. "But just for a little while."
Nika's face lit up with a smile, and she immediately scooted over to make room for you on the bed. You joined her, and she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close. "I promise, it won't be long," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
"That was easier than expected," Nika mumbled into your hair as you looked up to send her a glare. "Sorry! I knew you wanted to cuddle too, I could see it in your eyes."
"Oh really?" You held in a laugh as you teased her. "And what else do my eyes reveal?"
Nika grinned mischievously, her fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Hmm, let's see... They say you're secretly hoping I'll make you some pasta after this cuddle session,"
You chuckled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "You know me too well," you admitted, feeling a wave of affection wash over you.
Nika's smile softened, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I love knowing you," she murmured, her voice filled with sincerity.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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burntheedges · 2 days
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Maintenance Request Epilogue
Joel Miller x f!reader  18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 986
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a/n: well, y'all. We made it. 😭 I hope you enjoy this peek into our favorite couple's lives. Thank you all so much for reading.
I have loved seeing all of your reactions and answering your asks about the fic this week (please keep sending more for the celebration if you'd like!). There will be more asks going up today and I'm linking them on the masterlist for the fic as I post them.
I'm getting emotional again. Thank you all. You're the best and I mean that so sincerely. 🧡 and thank you, as always, to @katareyoudrilling 🧡 I think we'll be back to visit these two (I've already got plans for something about Joel finding the poem from Ch 23 thanks to an ask from @toomanytookas) but this is it for the main story. (Also, today is my birthday, so thank you for celebrating with me.)
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, cuddling, pet names (darlin', honey, baby), allusions to smut
Epilogue
Saturday, May 10 Summer Break
It was a beautiful late spring day, with a light breeze rustling through Joel’s back garden. You stood on the back porch and turned your face to the sun, smiling at the view.
You were tired – you’d lifted so many boxes already that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to even consider opening any of them right now. As you tried and failed to will yourself to at least make a plan, you felt Joel step up behind you. He slid his arms around your waist and tucked his face into your neck.
“I like the way you look on this porch, darlin’. The way your stuff looks in the house. Our house.” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Looks right.” 
You grinned and leaned into him. “Well, that’s good, considering it’s way too late to change your mind now. All my books are here.” He huffed a laugh into your neck. “Once we mix them in with yours there’s no turning back. Gave up my keys and everything.” He pressed his smile into your neck in response.
You’d agreed to move in after the semester ended. Tommy, Beth, and Maria had helped, though they’d just left a few minutes ago – Tommy and Maria to return the moving truck, and Beth to pick up dinner. Tess had threatened Joel that he better have a housewarming party for you or else since she couldn’t make it.
You’d just gotten tired of lugging boxes around and stepped outside to see what Sarah, Ellie and Riley were up to. A sudden shout from the far end of the backyard drew your attention and you lifted up on your toes to try to see over Joel’s many plants. 
He did the same, arms still wrapped around you, and asked, “any idea what those three hooligans are doing back there?”
You laughed. “Well, judging by the stuff they dragged back there with them, I have a pretty good idea.”
“Oh?” He nuzzled into your neck again, clearly not too concerned with their antics.
You nodded. “Mentos. And Diet Coke.” 
He laughed, loud this time. “You’re kidding. They just discovered that old trick?”
“Seems so.”
“Feels like a different student tries it every term, so I guess I’m not surprised.” He sighed. “At least if they do it back there we don’t really have to clean it up, much.”
You elbowed him a little. “My thoughts exactly.” You were both quiet for a moment and you felt Joel relax into position behind you, leaning against the wall of the house and drawing you backwards to lean on him. 
“You think Elllie’s got a plan for her room, yet?” He sounded concerned, but you knew it was because he was anxious to help her however he could. 
“Yeah, she wants to freehand it. Some kind of mural.”
“Sounds like it’ll probably be pretty impressive. We can get her some paints, maybe tomorrow.” 
You smiled at his offer. “Poor Tommy, kicked out of his room.” 
Joel laughed at your words, but you felt him shake his head. “He’s busy with Maria, he don’t mind. Got better things to worry about these days.” You hummed, agreeing. “You know, darlin’, we got about half an hour before any of them get back.” He punctuated his statement with a quick nip to your neck and a thrust of his hips. 
You snorted. “Joel Miller, are you propositioning me? In front of the kids?” You waved your arm towards the back of the yard.
He huffed a laugh into your neck. “They can’t hear us and I’ve been dying to get you alone all day. Honey, you live here now. You aren’t going to leave later because you’re already home. It’s driving me crazy just thinkin’ about it.” 
You let your head fall back on his shoulder and grinned. “Half an hour, huh? Not a lot of time.”
He started pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck and you squirmed against him. “Enough time to make you come on my mouth, baby.” 
You started to turn in his arms, already giving in, when there was a sudden, whooshing eruption and shrieks coming from the back of the yard. You laughed. “Sounds like they figured it out.”
“Hmm, let’s worry about that later.” He grinned at you as he started to walk backwards into the house, taking your hands in his to lead you. “We got things to do and the clock is ticking.”
Both of you started giggling as you dashed up the stairs. You almost fell into his (your) room and caught yourself on the dresser. He grinned at you as he closed the door before grabbing you by the waist to guide you onto the bed. “Pants off, darlin’. Let me show you how happy I am to have you home.”
Home. You smiled and did as he asked.
He was right, after all. You were home.
...Then love comes, like a sudden flight of birds from earth to heaven after rain. Your kiss, recalled, unstrings, like pearls, this chain of words. Huge skies connect us, joining here to there. Desire and passion on the thinking air. -- From “Rapture” by Carol Ann Duffy
It was like getting a love letter from a tree Eyes closed forever to find you— There is a life which if I could have it I would have chosen for myself from the beginning -- “The Poem” by Franz Wright
...
a/n: thank you all. 🧡
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Text
Two of a Kind 7
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Masterlist
NO TAGS. Don't ask.
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; manipulation; criminal behaviour; cumplay/creampie, talk of contraception; written for smut, just being honest. Not all elements will be tagged/warned.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dark!Ransom Drysdale and dark!Modern Charles Blackwood. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business.
Note: :)
Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.
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Charles helps the girl stand. She's shaking like a leaf as she covers her stomach with her free arm. She tries to hide her vee behind her hand as she leans on him heavily. The feel of her trembling makes his dick twitch. 
"Should just drive her home," Ransom speaks around the stogie. 
"You're always such a prick," Charles chuckles. He knows Ransom just likes to see the girls squirm. "Come on, baby, nice hot bath for you since you did so good." 
"Since you're so fucking tight," Ransom sneers. 
She sniffles as Charles slings his arm under hers and leads her past the shameless man puffing grey smoke into the air, "I told you not to do that inside." 
"I opened a window." 
Charles issues him a dull look and a shake of the head as he continues past. She leans into him as her feet slap on the floor clumsily. If he wasn’t holding onto her, she’d collapse. He can tell. She’s weak. It’s getting him going again. 
He brings her into the bathroom as she murmurs, her head lolling forward. Fuck he is goddamn hard again. Twice already and he’s ready to blow. He’s no underperformer but he can’t remember the last time he was like this. Insatiable, as many described him in most matters. 
He flips up the toilet lid around her and sits her down. He pets her head as she slumps. 
“You should go, clear everything out or you might get an infection,” he lets his fingers drag over her shoulder, “we don’t want that, do we?” 
She nods, he thinks. She’s half-bent over her lap as she grips her head. As the soft trickle hits the toilet seat, she sinks further into shame. As drunk as she is, she’s still self-conscious. Even after he was just in her guts. 
Stop. He looks down at his bobbing dick. It’s starting to fucking hurt and his head isn’t making it any better. 
He goes to the tub and cranks on the four-pronged faucets. The house is not the nicest place he’s been in but he likes the bathroom. Deep tub, lots of counter space, big mirrors. He glances over his shoulder at the mirrors the cover the expanse of one wall above the floating counter. He could fuck her in front of them, make her watch herself. 
Later. He has to reprimand himself as he did Ransom. Don’t wanna break the girl. Not yet.  
He puts the stopper in place and stands. He goes to her and helps her up, pausing to flush the toilet behind her. He as good as carries her to the tub and lifts her over the edge. He reclines her against the back and she stares up with glassy eyes. 
He stands and watches her. She suddenly spasms as a sob erupts from her. She gulps as the tears spring forth and she blather uncontrollably. He touches her shoulder. It’s the alcohol, it makes everything feel much more intense. 
“Shh, baby, you’re alright,” he comforts. 
Her eyes drift over then fall down to his pulsing erection. He’s suddenly very self-aware as his tip presses to his stomach. He stands straight as she shields herself with a weak hand. 
“I can’t... please, no more,” she begs. 
"Shh, honey," he coos, the pet name surprising even him. She just seems so pathetic.  
He backs up and grabs a towel. He covers himself and nears the tub once more. Maybe it was a bit too much. Well, she's fucked up enough it won't be that bad in the morning.  
"Do you like tea?" He asks. She nods and wipes her face. "Alright, I'll get you some."  
He retreats and stops at the door, glancing back at her. Hm.  
"Ransom!" He hollers as he comes out into the hall, "get your ass in here."  
The other man appears at the end of the hall and struts down in a pair of silk boxers. He could roll his eyes at him. Sometimes he thinks he's working with a moron. Well, the man would be an easy mark, especially with his grandfather's legacy. Not the time, Charles. 
"Keep an eye on her so she doesn't go under." Ransom scoffs as he approaches, "fucked her silly."  
"Sure," he taps Ransom's arm with his knuckles. "The last thing we need is a dead girl."  
"Mm, nope, she's lively, huh? The way she whined..."  
Charles clears his throat as his balls ache, "yeah. Anyway, watch her, will ya?"  
Ransom clucks but steps into the doorway. He leans on the frame and narrows his eyes at the girl, his hand going to his hip. That's the biggest problem. Ransom doesn't know when to stop.  
"Just watch," Charles warns, "she's had enough."  
"Man, I think she had enough at the first knuckle," Ransom brings his fingers up to sniff, "didn't stop us before."  
"Hey, we didn't put in all this work for one night, alright? I don't got the energy and I know you don't either," Charles huffs, "you wanna keep buying bimbos drinks down at Lights? No. We get her on lock and it's easy. Stress relief."  
Ransom snickers and peers at the girl again, "she is fucking... tight."  
"Hm, yeah," he agrees. "I'll be back."  
Charles goes to the kitchen and sighs. Goddamn he is hard. He can hardly remember what he was doing. 
Tea. Right. Yeah. It'll calm her down. If they even have any.  
👄 
You shiver as the cool air tingles over your shoulders. The hot water contrasts the chill as you languish in the deep tub. You stare at the ceiling, vaguely aware of voices, filled with dread at what they'll do next.  
A shadow moves into the room and you look over warily. It's Ransom. He leans on the counter as he watches you. You stare back, waiting for it, bracing for more pain. He doesn't move.  
"Consider yourself lucky, babe," he chuckles, "not a lot of girls pop their cherry on something that big." You tremble and turn forward, embarrassed. "I know it's huge, the way you were squirming, but you're also..." he makes a sucking noise, "tight as shit."  
"Why... why are you doing this?" You sniffle.  
"Babe, babe, why did I choose you? Why did I spend my money, my time on a girl no one gives a second look to? Huh. You should be thanking me," he sneers, "and what do you got now? All the sweet little act means nothing if you're not a virgin. You're just another slut now."  
"No," you shake your head and sit up, hiding your face. "I'm not--"  
"You are. You just took two men at once. Who the fuck does that but a slut like you? But babe, we don't gotta throw you out. Not if you keep being a good little slut for us. I mean," he nears the side of the tub, "no one else is gonna want a used hole." 
 You whimper and hang your head, folding your arms over it as you bend your knees under your elbow. He's right. You're used and dirty. You hear another set of footsteps and another shadow darkens the edge of your vision. Ransom backs up and snorts.  
"What's going on?" Charles asks.  
"Nothing, we were just talking," Ransom says, "she was just saying how much fun she had."  
Charles clucks as you frown and lift your head. The brunette shoulders around the blond and comes to you with a mug. Steam coils from the brim.  
"How about we get you out and you can wait for it to cool in bed? All comfy?" 
"Jesus, Charlie, she's not a fucking baby."  
"Shut up," Charles snaps back, "she did a real good job and she earned it," he sets the mug down on the short stool near the tub, "isn't that right, baby? So good. So you wanna get out and have your tea and get some rest, right? You take care of us, we take care of you."  
Your lip quivers as you stare at him. You're dizzy and dazed and dumb. You don't understand why this is happening. You're a nice person. You nod. Thinking is only making your head hurt worse. Charles helps you out of the the tub and grabs another towel to wrap you in. He brings it around your shoulders and squeezes before he turns to drape his arm around you.  
"Come on, you wanna sleep in my room?" He coos.  
You just sniff and wipe your raw cheek again. He takes you down the hall and opens a door, taking you inside. He flips on the lights and sits you on the edge of the king bad within. You stay there as he shifts around the room. He returns and replaces the towel with a shirt. You thank him. Why did you do that? Thank you? After everything.  
He guides you to lay against the pillows. The bed smells like him, a hint of citrus and sweat. Your eyes are glued to the ceiling as he leaves you. Your trance breaks only as a cup clinks down loudly.  
You blink as a weight dips beside you. You wince as Charles pulls the blanket out from under you then over you. You shake and puts his hand on your arm. It makes you still, somewhat soothing yet startling all the same. 
“Drink your tea, honey,” he caresses your arm as he nestles closer.  
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the art of breaking: part two
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the art of breaking, part two: theory of decay
very dark!Joel Miller x f!reader
NOTE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. this fic contains themes of abuse and extremely dark content.
words: 10k
summary: joel knows just how to make you his forever. a sequel to "the art of breaking"
warnings (new warnings in red) and story under the cut; reader discretion is advised.
also on ao3
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, very dark!Joel, BAD bdsm etiquette, not SSC/RACK compliant, sadist!Joel x masochist!reader, coercion, corruption, manipulation, isolation, gaslighting, glory hole, reader gives tommy a blowjob (joel and tommy do not touch), body modification, permanent marking, captivity, sadism, masochism, pain play, extreme punishment, whipping, impact play in general, mentions of vomit (no description), oral, vaginal, reader x other men, degradation, humiliation, Joel sees reader as property, inadequate aftercare, blink and you miss it piss "play," straight up abuse this time guys, overstimulation, forced eating, needles, voyeurism, objectification, human furniture/ashtray, cigarettes, consumption of non-food items, nipple/clit pumps, this one might be worse than the first idk sorry
Again, I cannot say this enough. This is a dark fantasy and should not be taken as representative of a good d/s relationship—it’s abuse masquerading. Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean I’m condoning it. 
Please read responsibly. 
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i. dessication
When he goes to work, he leaves you free to roam the house and do your chores. For shorter trips out, he tends to put you in your cage. There’s no real reason, but it keeps you in a good place. You’re always softer, quieter when he gets back and lets you out. 
He couldn’t do it all the time, of course. There are things needing to be done. Plus, every day, he gets to come home to you knelt, waiting by the door with dinner kept warm. He could afford a housekeeper, but then you’d have nothing to keep your mind and body occupied when he’s away. 
Of course, sometimes he leaves you chained up in the basement. He can’t always be nice, after all. And the thing he loves to come home to most, second only to you kneeling at the door, is your exhausted body still tied where he left it, bearing the marks of his latest pleasure. 
Sometimes, he just leaves you in stocks to contemplate all the raw kisses from his favorite whip. Sometimes, he has you pinned to the table with a vibrator strapped to your clit for the day. On the lowest setting—he’s not a monster. 
Well. It starts on the lowest setting. He can do whatever he wants with it through a handy app. It was the only way Tommy could convince him to upgrade to a smartphone.
But today, you’re just set about neatening up. Neither you nor Joel are messy— though he does have a tendency to empty his pockets wherever he’s standing—and it’s not a huge house. You finish up early and have time to read while supper’s in the oven. 
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You’re already kneeling when you hear the key in the door, eyes down, hands behind your back, but you have to tense up not to flinch when you hear a second pair of boots.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” drawls a voice you don’t know. 
The only reason you don’t panic is because Joel’s boots enter your field of vision. You’re intimately acquainted with them—literally—and despite the fresh layer of dirt, you’d know them anywhere. 
“Ooh, damn, she’s good,” says the voice.
Joel chuckles and reaches down to stroke your cheek. “Told ya.” 
You melt a little against his hand, letting the pride in his voice warm you.
He rubs his thumb over your cheek and lets you press a little kiss to the digit before stepping back to take his shoes off and dump the handful of change and crumpled receipts on the foyer table. “C’mon,” he says, snapping his fingers so you know he means you, too.
You resist the urge to look at the stranger, but you don’t like the way he lingers to follow you instead of following Joel. You can feel his eyes on your exposed flesh, the dress just short enough to show off your cunt when you crawl. 
No one has ever come into the house before. At least not when you’re out and about. You don’t know if Joel’s had company while you’ve been in the basement or something; you’ve never even thought about it. All you know is that it’s been a long time since you’ve seen another person. 
It’s terrifying. 
You go to kneel between Joel’s feet, but he stops you. “Turn around,” he says, guiding you with firm hands to face forward. 
He laughs when he sees that you’re still staring very carefully at the carpet. “Y’can look at him; he ain’t gonna bite.”
The other man, who has settled in the armchair facing the couch, laughs too. “I might,” he says.
“No, you won’t.” Joel’s voice goes hard for a moment, and you don’t need to see to know he’s glaring. 
It makes you feel better. So what if someone’s looking at you? Joel’s still protecting you. 
He lifts your chin up so you have to look at the other man. He’s broad, though not as much as Joel, with dark curls and dark eyes that make you feel like he wants to cut you open and see how you tick. 
“This is my little brother, Tommy,” Joel says. “Go tell him hello.” 
“Hello,” you say quietly. 
“C’mon, now, go give him a proper greeting,” Joel nudges you with his foot. You crawl over to Tommy and kneel between his legs. Your gaze darts from him to Joel, teeth worrying at your lip. 
“Don’t embarrass me, girl,” Joel warns.
Tommy lifts your chin with his hand. “He wants you to suck me off. Go ahead.” 
It’s nice, but it’s not his permission you need. You risk one more glance at Joel. 
“You heard him. You got two seconds, sweetheart, before you’re gonna regret it,” he growls.
“You goin’ soft? You usually have ‘em trained better by now,” Tommy teases, but his words have Joel seeing red. 
You sit back. “What?”
“Sorry, sweetheart, did you think you were special?” Tommy says with a nasty smirk. He pats your face. “Poor thing.”
You look at Joel, tears welling up. 
“What, you think I had a house full of equipment that’s never been used? Y’should be grateful. All my toys before you had to suffer some trial and error. I got it perfected now, and you’re wasting it, being a fuckin’ disobedient bitch.” 
You close your eyes tight and choke back a sob. He’s never, ever spoken to you like that before. When you turn back to Tommy, you have your mouth open wide and waiting.
He leans back. “Well? You gonna make me do all the work?”
“Can I use my hands, please?” you say, eyes darting from Tommy to Joel. 
“Great, now you got her all nervous,” Tommy bitches, and Joel rolls his eyes. 
“Go ahead,” Joel tells you gruffly. You’ve been so good. So obedient. Maybe he shoulda warned you that he wanted to show you off. No, he thinks, it’s not his fault. He didn’t owe you a warning. You should just accept it and obey.
You’re shaking when you tug open the button of Tommy’s jeans, fumbling with the zipper. Apparently, it takes long enough that he grunts and knocks your hand away, pulling his cock out. 
It feels like a trap. Joel has not explicitly ordered you to do this. But he doesn’t usually try to trick you. 
“For Christ’s sake,” Tommy snaps, and yanks you forward. You get with the program quickly, wrapping your lips around him and trying to do your best. 
He’s smaller than Joel, but it’s a decent cock. Not that it matters to you. Despite not having to gag on him, you can’t breathe anyway, too preoccupied. Why is Joel doing this? Is he going to punish you for it later? 
And the worst thing, the thing that keeps bouncing around your brain as you try to get Tommy off: What happened to the other girls? Did he get tired of them and kick them out?
Was he not going to keep you?
You don’t notice you’re crying, but Tommy clearly enjoys it. He moans and holds you down as he cums down your throat. You aren’t ready, though, and sputter a little, coughing and leaking his cum down your chest. 
“Jesus Christ,” Joel snaps. He gets up off the couch and yanks you away from his brother by the hair. “What the hell's the matter with you today?” 
“I’m sorry,” you cry. 
“Shut up,” he says, and drags you out to the place you visit in most of your nightmares, despite only having been there once in reality. 
The Pit. 
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ii. consumption
When he comes to get you in the morning, you’re wrecked. Deflated, no more tears left to pour down your cheeks. For now, at least.  
The sun is against his back when he opens the gate, reaching down for you with one strong arm. Bathed in the golden light, he is every inch your savior, and when you’ve climbed out on shaky legs, you prostrate yourself at his feet the way he likes. 
He’s still mad, though, so he steps one filthy boot on your head and grinds your face into the mud. He pisses on it for good measure, the hot stream dripping down your hair and face onto the soil. 
He’s got a switch in one hand. With you effectively pinned in place, he wastes no time in swinging it down on your ass. 
You scream and sob as he beats you. When he finally stops, when he’s drawn every bit of his anger in welts against your skin, he lifts his boot from your head and squats down. 
“Why d’you have to make me do this?” He’s solemn, sorrowful. 
“I’m sorry, sir,” you say, focusing on controlling the hysterical sobs wrenching from your chest. 
You don’t know what will follow, so you remain still, not daring to move without an order. 
“I should drop you off at a fuckin’ whorehouse,” he mutters. He pulls you up by your hair, and you scramble to your knees. “You can learn to suck who you’re told to suck.”
“Please, sir, please don’t, please—” It’s too much. You stumble, sobs wracking your body hard enough that you can’t move. You collapse in the grass with his hand still holding your head up. 
He lets go, letting you fall. 
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You crawl to his boots and kiss them, mud be damned. It wasn’t like you weren’t covered in it anyway. “Please, sir, I’m so sorry, please don’t—” you say between sobs. 
“Please don’t what? You think you’re in any position to be askin’ for anything?”
“Don’t get rid of me, please; I promise I’ll be better; I can be good.”
“I’ll think about it, if you can fuckin’ earn it.”
“Please, please let me try to earn it.”
He squats down and helps pull you to your knees in front of him, cupping your filthy face in both hands. “I don’t wanna send you away. You know I love ya. But if you can’t be good, then what’s the point, baby?”
Your sobs are subsiding out of the pure elation that comes from his gentle touch. “I’ll do anything,” you whisper.
“I know ya will. You don’t really have a choice.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m gonna get you fed and taken care of. But you’re about to have one of the worst days of your fuckin’ life.”
You choke on a sob and sway a little. The fear and the hunger are like a fog over your brain. 
“Hey. Listen t’me.” He holds your hands in one of his. “You’re gonna learn, and it’s gonna be real hard for ya. But at the end of it all— if you take it all like a good girl—you’ll be forgiven. Got it?”
You look up through tear-sodden lashes, lip quivering, and nod your head. 
There’s no part of you anymore that registers an issue. No warning bells, no red flags, no hair raising. 
You follow him to the bottom of the patio steps, where he nudges you to kneel back down, folding over so your face rests against the soil. You wait while he goes inside, unsure of how much time has passed until he comes back out with a plate of eggs, scrambled with cheese and little bits of sausage. 
That raises some alarms. Not to the way he treats you, but more of a signal for what to expect. It’s protein-heavy, which isn’t necessarily unusual, but it smells delicious. And there’s no way you’re getting to eat that after behaving so badly. 
You’re half right. He squats down next to you and scoops up a bite with the fork. You don’t take the bait; you know that’s not for you. 
He moans exaggeratedly when he chews, grinning all the while. And then he scrapes the rest off the plate into the dirt in front of your face. 
“Ah, ah. Not yet,” he says, and you close your eyes at the sound of his zipper being yanked down. 
“You get wet from that beating earlier?” he asks.
You nod, even though he’s already reaching down between your legs and shoving his fingers in your cunt. He brings back his shiny hand and strokes his cock. 
“Look at me, baby,” he says, shifting onto his knees so when you open your eyes, you’re faced with his fist pumping away at the red, angry head. “Coulda been you. Shoulda been, but bad girls don’t get what they want.” 
You whimper. It really does hurt your feelings, but you know you have nothing to say for yourself. 
“Open. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and get some fresh.”
You obey immediately, squeezing your eyes back shut as soon as he starts to cum. A little bit lands in your mouth, which you hold open.
“You can swallow that. But don’t eat yet.” 
He walks away, puttering around on the patio. You try to work up the nerve for his command, stomach churning. Maybe it’ll still taste fine. Maybe cold semen and dirt won’t ruin it that much. Maybe. 
If you hadn’t earlier, you believed him now about it being the worst day of your life. He certainly wasn’t starting out small. Sure, you’d eaten off the floor before, but inside the house. The house you clean, so you know how sanitary it is. 
But thinking about doing this makes you want to cry. And when he tells you to get started, you do cry. Just a little. 
“You got about six minutes,” he says, checking his phone for the time instead of the eternally broken watch on his wrist, “and there better not be a single crumb left. Get your ass up here as soon as you’re done.”
You’re not sure how long it takes you, but it must be nearly the whole six minutes, because by the time you’re knelt at his feet on the patio, he says, “Cuttin’ it damn close, sweetheart.” 
He’s playing fucking Candy Crush, legs kicked out on the little wooden table in front of him. He’s got you knelt at his side, and after a few minutes, he digs into his breast pocket and hands you a smushed carton of cigarettes. 
You draw one carefully out of the pack and extend it to him, letting go once he’s pinched it between his lips and pulling out the lighter. Carefully, you ignite the tip for him and tuck it back away. You go to give the carton back, but he shakes his head.
He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth to blow smoke. “Hang onto that for me. And this,” and he hands you his coffee cup. 
It’s not the first time he’s used you as a table. He tried using you as a footrest but found it less satisfying. You try to sit and work through your nerves, try to ignore the terror that he might not keep you if you can’t endure the day. 
It’s a good thing that he drained you of any concept of dignity long ago, cut you open, and let it ooze away like pus from an infection.  
“Open,” he says absently, not bothering to look away from his game.
Your eyes and mouth snap open, and he taps the cigarette against your lip, letting the ash fall onto your tongue. You jerk back a little but correct it immediately.
He quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll give ya a pass this time. But keep your mouth open, tongue out, and don’t fucking swallow.” 
He’s clearly happy to spend the afternoon like this. He goes through a second cigarette and still doesn’t let you swallow or spit. Your knees ache from the planks of the deck. 
He gets up and goes inside for a few minutes, taking his empty coffee cup with him. You don’t dare drop your position, though. 
When he comes back out, he hands you a bottle of beer, condensation already dripping. He resettles to watch the game on his phone. 
Anything resembling hope is trickling out. He hates watching things on the little screen, peering at it through his glasses. But he never smokes inside the house, so he’s resigned himself to this for the sake of your punishment.
It makes you feel less than the ash on your tongue. 
By the time it’s over, your mouth has long gone dry, itching with the ash of four cigarettes, when he stands up and stretches. He leans down and holds your chin before spitting in your mouth.
“There ya go. Swallow.” 
And you do. When you cough a little as the ashes cling to your dry throat, he pries your mouth back open and spits again. 
It helps a little. 
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iii. dismemberment
You’d only been in the Pit once before. The first time was arguably your worst offense, which was good, Joel thought, that you still hadn’t topped that misbehavior. 
But as glad as you are that it hasn’t happened a lot, it means you don’t really know what to expect. When he brings you into the ensuite, you know this routine enough that you kneel on the shower floor, barely flinching when he turns only the cold tap, and the faucet sputters to life. 
He never gets in until you’re shivering, so while he gathers fresh clothes and towels, you scrub the mud from your body. When he checks and finds you satisfactory, he turns the knobs until the water runs warm. 
Your shivers don’t subside for a few more minutes, though. Not until you’re practically done cleaning him with the spongey loofah. Hot tears burn in the corners of your eyes, though only a few slip loose.
When he turns around and takes it from you, you thank him for letting you wash him. 
He gives you a smile, hand cupping your cheek.
“Of course, baby. Don’t worry. I’m going to help you remember how to be my good girl.”
But first, before he can follow up on the threat, he washes the mud and piss from your hair with gentle hands, massaging your scalp. You hold still, head tipped back, and let the tears come harder.
He notices but doesn’t comment. It’s normal now, when he takes care of you after a hard punishment. Or, in this case, in the middle of one.
You go to speak, to pour out your regrets and devotion, but he shushes you.
“I want you quiet ‘till I say otherwise,” he says. “Nothin’ outta you unless it’s an emergency. Got it?”
You nod, and he helps you to your feet, drying you with a soft towel and taking care around the raised welts on your ass. There will be some nasty bruises tomorrow, but when isn’t there? Your tits have mottled spots of yellow fading, and the shape of Joel’s hand around your throat basically never leaves. 
He gives your raw, burning skin a sharp smack, sending you off to put on the dress he’s laid out for you.
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He tells you nothing, just leads you to the truck. The drive is quiet, apart from the crooning voice on the radio. It’s a bit of a drive, and you park in a broken-up lot surrounded by rusty chainlink fence. He grabs your hand and takes you across the street to a dilapidated building. A cheap banner is tacked above one of the doors. 
Joel hands a bill to a man, who opens the door just enough for you to squeeze in. It doesn’t take long to figure out where you are.
“Been a while since I brought you someplace nice, baby. Hope you like it, ‘cause we’re gonna be here most of the night.”
That’s the understatement of your life. He hasn’t taken you out of the house in over a year. You’re not sure you remember how to exist away from home, clinging to his arm as he leads you through the club.
You can’t decide what will be worse, but you don’t have to wonder for long when he drags you around to an empty stall. He’s not there to use a hole. You’re there to be one. 
He clips your collar to the wall with just enough slack that you could pull back to breathe if the person on the other side doesn’t let you. 
He takes the ring gag out of his pocket and dangles it in front of you. “You need this, or are ya gonna be good?”
“I’ll be good,” you say immediately, a phantom ache in the hinge of your jaw. 
“You sure? ‘Cause if you have to ask later or I have to make that decision myself, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“I’m sure,” you whisper. 
“Good.” He pats the side of your face, two sharp smacks in lieu of a caress. There will be no softness for you tonight. 
He waits to talk to you until your mouth is full. You look miserable, but you don’t hesitate. It’s not to the standard he’d usually require, but you’re both aware of the hours ahead, so he lets you pace yourself. 
He crouches down near you. “You like that? Some random dirty prick in your throat?” 
You, of course, can’t answer, but your eyes close against the hurt.
“It’s fucking disgusting. You think I want to let just anyone use you? I could fuck any hole I want. I could go out there and have every cunt and ass and mouth. You know why I won’t?”
Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t try to answer, don’t stop what you’re doing. 
“Because they ain’t you, sweetheart. You’re my perfect girl. Nicest I’ve ever had. And if I got something this nice, and I don’t share it with my brother? You don’t even suck him off right? How do you think that made him feel, baby?”
He keeps it up, past the point where he feels like carrying on, but he can tell it’s wearing you down faster than the relentless facefucking. You’re starting to work your jaw, joints popping in between visitors, but even that doesn’t compare to the way you’ve started to shake when he’s scolding you.
“I know you’re tired, baby. I hope you remember this fuckin’ lesson because I’m not sacrificing two nights of sleep again to repeat it.”
You whimper around the stranger’s cock, which encourages them to fuck into you harder. But Joel knows the tears in your eyes aren’t from that. 
“Yeah, you were bein’ selfish, huh? I couldn’t fuckin’ sleep with you out there, and now I’m up all night with you here.”
There it was, he thought, watching you break. A little too early; it was going to be tough to keep you going. But nothin’ did you in like the thought of having hurt him in the process. 
And it was true. He never slept with someone out in The Pit. Too fuckin dangerous. He kept watch on a camera. He needed you scared and sorry, not dead. 
He watches as you choke down the stranger’s seed, looking like you might retch. He shuts the little sliding door for a few minutes and gives you some water. After you’ve rehydrated and seem a little less green, he opens it back up.
“Alright, get ready for the next round.”
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In the truck on the way home, he keeps you tucked close to his side. Between the dark, empty highway and his coat wrapped around you, you start to doze off. 
He nudges you a little. “None of that now. Ain’t finished with you yet.”
You whimper, not in protest but in exhaustion. Despite how hard you try to fight it, you’re fast asleep when he pulls into the driveway. 
He thinks about waking you up anyway, to follow through on his word. He carries you inside and up to the bedroom, still deliberating, but when he tries to set you down on the bed, you cling to him desperately, even in your sleep. He manages to wriggle the coat off you and lays down beside you. He’ll just let you both rest for a little while.
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You wake up, mid-afternoon, shaking all over. Joel awakens moments later, eyes wide as he tugs on your arm to roll you over. 
“Oh, baby,” he says, and moves to get out of the bed. “Knew I shouldn’t have let you go to sleep.”
But you grab onto him, lip trembling. 
He knocks your hand away. “I‘ll be right back, jus’ hold on.”
You’re curled into yourself, sobbing, when he gets back three minutes later. 
He hands you a water bottle anyway. “Sit up; you need to eat. It’ll help.”
Somehow, you find the strength to struggle and wriggle your body into sitting. He brings you to lean against his chest while he leans against the headboard. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs, a kiss pressed to your head. 
You start crying hard all over again. 
“I know. M’sorry. I should have talked to ya last night, huh? S’that what you’re all worked up about?”
You nod. There you are, sitting in his bed, when you hadn’t fucking earned it. But he doesn’t shove you off or hurt you for it; he just feeds you a protein bar and lets you sip at the water between bites. 
After he’s given you the last of the bar, he has you slide down to your knees by the side of the bed.
“What happened?” he asks.
“I disobeyed and embarrassed you.” 
“I didn’t ask you what you did wrong.”
“Oh,” you say softly, and have to think. “I didn’t understand, at first. That you wanted me to suck his cock.”
“And after you did?”
“I—” you don’t want to say it. You know he’s going to be mad. He doesn’t like when you question things like this.
“Is this because Tommy said you weren’t special? ‘Cause you know better.” 
“No, I just… why did you get rid of the others? What did they do?” 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, and cups your face in one hand. “I don’t think that’s anything you gotta worry about. Not anymore.”
“But how will I know how to do better?”
“You already are. None of ‘em ever made it this far. They talked big talk but couldn’t back it up. Some of ‘em didn’t want to give up the things you have, some of ‘em couldn’t handle my expectations. I told you, you’re the nicest thing I’ve ever had. You’ve let me make you exactly the way I want you to be.”
“Even though I was so bad the other night?”
“Yep. Because you took every consequence, and I know you’ve learned your lesson. And you’ll probably fuck up again someday. But if you keep wantin’ to be better, I’ll keep teachin’ ya.” 
You can’t help but cry again. You’re so tired and so tired of crying. 
“What, were you worried I was gonna replace you with some new young thing someday?”
You nod, and he clicks his tongue disapprovingly.
“I’m gettin’ old, sweetheart. I don’t want to keep breakin’ in toys that ain’t worth my time. I just finished puttin’ you back together exactly the way I like ya. You stay my good girl, and you’ll be mine ‘till I die.” 
It doesn’t stop your tears.
“Hey,” he says. “What do you need?”
It startles you. “What?”
“What do you need? What’s gonna make you feel better, baby?” 
You’re not sure when the last time you’ve had to think about something like that is. He’s been taking care of you for so long now. 
“Whatever you want,” you say. 
“No, baby, that’s not what I’m asking.”
“That’s my answer, though,” you realize. “I need to feel whatever you want me to.”
“God damn,” he whispers. “I fucked you up, huh?”
Your lip trembles.
“No, baby, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just kinda incredible. Jesus. How could you think I’d ever get rid of you? There’s not a fuckin’ bit of you that isn’t mine.” 
Your cheeks burn, so you bury your face into his palm and press a kiss to the center. 
“You want to know what I want, is that right?”
You nod. 
“I wanna fuck your pretty little mouth. And then I want to order us some fuckin’ takeout and eat it in the bath.”
It makes you smile just a little. 
“Yeah? That sound good, baby?” His thumb rubs against your cheek. 
“Yes, sir.”
“Alright, open up for me.”
You wrangle yourself into position. The initial weight and taste of him sends warmth through your bones for the first moment since he dragged you outside. 
It’s sloppy, the way he fucks your throat, in a way it usually isn’t. It’s always messy, but his thrusts are erratic. You can’t keep up with his pace because there simply isn’t one. It’s not long before he’s holding you down and pumping his cum down your throat.
It trickles down and cleanses everything in its path. You’re lighter, like you can breathe again. You thank him sweetly, pressing a kiss to his twitching cock. 
He’s panting, but strokes your cheek with one hand. “That’s my good girl. Feel better now that I washed all those other guys outta your mouth?” 
Technically, he had done that last night, had shoved three soap-covered fingers in your mouth in the gross club bathroom. Wretchedly, it had the side effect of making you nauseous, and he had insisted on doing it over after you threw up.
But this felt more pure to him, more consecrational in a way. The soap might have cleared the actual evidence away, but his come was your wine and wafer. 
“Yes, sir,” you say into the flesh of his thigh where your head rests. You kiss there for good measure, eliciting a pleased hum from him that sends you preening a little. 
He lays back on the bed, leaving a hand on the top of your head to stroke your hair while the other gropes around for his phone. “What do you want, baby? Lo mein?” 
“Oh, yes, please.” 
He feeds you noodles in the bath and then eats you out until you fall asleep. 
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iv. reduced to bone
You’re on your knees in the basement, bent forward over a metal pipe placed at just the right height to nestle into your hips and keep them tilted up in the air. Stocks hold your head and wrists in place, tits hanging just below. The wood is slowly dampening as you drool around the ring gag. 
“Got a surprise for you, baby,” he had said when he led you down. “You know how you keep beggin’ me to hurt you worse, and I have to keep tellin’ you I’m not tryin' to wear you out?”
“Yes, sir?” 
“Well, I think you’re going to like this.”
That had been… well, you’re not entirely sure. A while ago, maybe, but your brain wasn’t the best judge of time right now. After he had secured you here, he had dragged out the little machine. It’s sitting under your torso somewhere, thin clear tubing stretching out like a web he’d caught you in. 
There’s no noise but the hum of it, which you’ve gone pleasantly numb to. The pressure is unending, each nipple and your clit being tugged into the tiny cups relentlessly. 
It tingles, just on the side of too gentle to be fulfilling on its own. That’s okay. You’re pretty sure you’ll be in delicious, mind-shattering agony soon. 
This you know because, well, it’s Joel, but also because of the tools he’s laid out on the little wheeled cart and left for you to stare at. 
A thin cane. Clover clamps with a length of chain. A tawse with a tapered, pointy tip. A wand. 
It makes you dizzy to look at. 
Also, you know because it’s a Friday night. Joel enjoys you however he likes any day of the week, but he’s careful about saving the deepest of his cruelties for Fridays. Because mind-shattering wasn’t really an exaggeration. When he gets like this, you sometimes don’t surface enough to take care of yourself for a day or two.
On those occasions, he never leaves you alone. Doesn’t want to, both because he loves when you need him that deeply and because you’re so soft and pliant. Truthfully, he thinks he could do anything to you then and you’d thank him for it. 
Which is why he’s got Tommy coming over tomorrow. It’s not that he thinks you need to be out of it to avoid a repeat of last time. He knows you learned your lesson and you’ll be good. 
But he’s got something special in mind that he needs help with. It’ll just be easier for everyone if you’re at your most agreeable. 
And yeah, you owe Tommy a blowjob. One of the ones that make Joel feel like he mighta died and somehow gotten through the pearly gates by the grace of your devotion. 
Plus, he’s pretty sure you’re going to love his plan, and he wants you unprepared, so you’ll cry real pretty and be truly desperate to show him your appreciation. It’s been on his mind since that night a few months back when you didn’t seem to believe him about never letting you go. 
He’s never fucking letting you go. There’s nothing in this world that could take you from him. He’s made sure of it. 
Sometimes, he has to remind himself that you don’t know you’re married. 
He thought about telling you that night, so you’d understand the depth of the commitment he’s made. But he doesn’t want you to take it the wrong way. Doesn’t want you thinking you need to act like a wife . 
He’d had a whole bucket of bullshit cooked up to excuse it, but when he told you to sign the paper, you hadn’t questioned it. Hadn’t questioned that you couldn’t see what it was, only the line where he pointed. You’d signed the fucking paper and never asked a goddamn thing. 
He was glad. He didn’t like lying to you. This was just one of those hoops to jump through in a world that didn’t understand what you shared. 
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When he comes back down, your eyes are already glazed over. Your body shines with a thin layer of sweat, and your chest is heaving as you squirm. It’s gone beyond gentle. The waves of suction have you whimpering soft and high, barely louder than a breath, but nearly constant. 
He chuckles and strolls over, crouching down to wipe the sweat off your brow with the bandana from his pocket before it gets in your eyes. You give him a truly pathetic look, eyes wide as you drool helplessly. 
“Not so nice now, huh?” 
You whine. 
He strokes your cheek with an exaggerated pout before sliding two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the back of your tongue. It tries to curl around them, eliciting another cruel laugh. 
“Jesus, girl. S’there anything that would stop ya from gagging for my cock?”
You shake your head. Even if you weren’t spread by the ring gag and choking on his fingers, you’re beyond speech. Too far deep. 
Joel actually doesn’t mind when you talk. He’s got no rules restricting your speech (well, most of the time). As long as you’re respectful, he likes the company. 
But he really likes when you go quiet like this. When he’s pushed you so far that you can’t . 
“Look at you, all worked up. We haven’t even gotten started, baby. You gonna be able to take it?”
You nod, whining, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes them on your cheek. 
“What was that, baby? Couldn’t quite understand ya.”
Tears spring to your eyes as you whine again. 
“I’m just teasin’,” he says and kisses your forehead. “I got ya. I know you’re gonna be my good girl and take everything I fuckin’ want.”
He reaches down and tugs the tubing until the cups pop free of your breasts. You cry out, but it turns into a desperate moan when he tugs the one off your clit. 
Yeah, he coulda turned the pump off first so they just fell off, but where’s the fun in that? 
He’s grinning wickedly as he reaches back up to your breast. He barely, just barely, brushes over the side of your nipple, and the sound you make goes right to his cock. 
“Fuck, you’re so swollen.” He has to remind himself he’s playing the long game; he just wants to pinch and pull so badly. He’s pretty sure you’ll scream, even though normally it wouldn’t be much at all. 
But he wants to fuckin’ torture you tonight, so he’s going to drag it out. He wants you incoherent and beaten down when he’s done, so far gone you’ll stay there for days. 
So he’s gotta start soft. He drags his fingertip around your areola, not quite brushing the nipple but tracing the ring left behind by the cup. You twitch, shoulders jerking back, and he grips your breast. 
“None of that, now,” he croons, letting go and switching sides to torment your other breast. 
It’s holy, in that way you never quite understood. Not like the Jesus kind, though you never were much for church either, but in the way that people chase salvation through empty bottles and sharp needles. 
With the wand and the tawse, he breaks you down again and again and again. But that’s the thing about Joel. He reduces you to pain or pleasure or the delicious apex of both that brews between your thighs, and then he cleans you back up, puts the pieces back where he likes them.
He makes you come until you cry, and then, when you’re sobbing and exhausted, that’s when the night really begins. You’re twitching and jerking at the barest contact, writhing with every snap of the cane. 
It’s so, so good. Until it isn’t. But he’s running that damn mouth of his, that sweet, filthy mouth, and you can’t not take it. Your tears are gone, all run out; he likes to wring you dry. And he keeps rubbing his hand over your hypersensitive flesh, already raw and ruined, and murmuring soft words and sweet taunts. 
“Look at you,” he croons. “My pretty little toy. You’re so beautiful, suffering for me like this, baby.”
And so you do. You suffer for him. There’s nothing left in your little subby brain right now but Joel Joel Joel. 
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You’re dry. He almost can’t believe it. The only time you’ve not been a sloppy, soaking mess was when he broke your finger. 
He whistles low and slow. “Shit, baby. Guess you have some limits after all, huh.” 
It’s impressive that you can even lift your head enough to shake it weakly. An overwhelming fondness washes over him. 
“ Aw. Takin’ it for me anyway, were ya?” He comes around and squats near your head, unhooking the gag and easing it out of your mouth. He rubs gentle circles on the hinges of your jaw as you whimper.
“Did so good for me, baby. Lemme get you outta there, and I’ll give you my cock.”
You shake your head, tears spilling over, but you don’t have a voice. The words don’t come together in your mind, just devastation.
His grip turns tight, forcing you to look at him. “No? You tellin’ me no?”
You shake your head again, lip quivering. 
“You don’t want my cock?”
You shake your head harder and try to reach for him, hands flexing where they’re bound in the stocks. Trying to make him see just how bad you want his cock. 
Luckily, he understands that much. “You wanna stay there? Baby, my knees ain’t gonna like fuckin’ you here.” But he can tell from the way your face crumples that he still isn’t quite getting it. 
“Are you tryin’ to tell me you want me to keep goin’?” 
You nod and he slaps you, a sharp strike that catches you by surprise.
“Stupid girl,” he says, scowling, and gripping your chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger. “I decide when we’re done. The whole point of this was not to ruin ya. This ain’t a punishment. Well, it wasn’t. Might be, next time.” 
He stands up, shaking his head. “Dumb fuckin’ cunt.”
It hurts worse than the cane did. 
When he sees the heartbreak on your face, he sighs. “Ah, shit. Look, I know you’re just tryin’ to please me. But you’re makin’ me feel bad for tryin’ to be careful with ya. If I take it too far today, you won’t be able to take as much anymore. I ain’t breakin’ you.” 
You’re sobbing too hard to respond, but you don’t try to argue or struggle when he releases you. You crawl to lay kisses to the toes of his boots and nuzzle your cheek against them.
He sees it for the apology it is. 
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v. parched to dust
This time, when Tommy Miller takes out his cock in front of you, you’re ready. And there’s no way in hell you’re disappointing Joel again, so you wrap your lips around him, not quite eagerly but with enough determination that no one could fault you.
When you drag the second consecutive orgasm from him, he tugs you away with a fist in your hair, panting and gasping. Joel swats his hand away and beckons you back to his lap. 
“ Jesus,” Tommy finally says, tucking himself back into his jeans. 
“Told ya it was just a bad day,” Joel snipes. 
“Sorry,” Tommy says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shoulda figured. It’s just… you’re a little soft for her, yeah?”
“Course I am. But I’m not soft on her.”
You know he loves you. You do. But hearing him admit that he’s soft for you makes your chest ache. 
“Got another surprise for ya, baby,” Joel says, rubbing his hand over your back. 
You’re overwhelmed. It’s not that he doesn’t give you things or do things for you; it’s that it’s never such a big deal. It just is . He takes care of you. That’s how this works. Not gifts and surprises. 
You bite your lip so you don’t question it, but he sees through you.
“Now I know you don’t remember. D’you even know what day it is?” 
“Saturday,” you say. “You’re home.” 
He shakes his head, but it’s betrayed by the smirk. “You’re right, baby. But what’s the date?”
You actually have to think for a minute. You hadn’t crossed off the calendar this morning like you usually did, and yesterday’s activities have you a little rattled. “It’s um, it’s August 19th?”
“That’s our anniversary, baby.”
Your brows scrunch as you try to think back. That’s not right. Your first date was in February. You moved in sometime early in June. You’re not sure what his metric is, but August doesn’t make sense. “Um. Are you… are you sure?” 
He doesn’t get mad like you thought he might. He just laughs. “Course, I’m sure, baby. It was the night we came home from your folks’. When you agreed to be mine.”
Your face heats. “I’m sorry—”
“Y’ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about, baby. I didn’t expect ya to remember. But you’ve been mine for two years now, and you’re still worried I ain’t gonna keep you. But I’ve been thinkin’, and I know how to prove it to you.” 
If this doesn’t convince you, he thinks, nothing will. Never mind that his whole goddamn life revolves around you. Never mind that you’ve worn his collar for the last 731 fuckin’ days. 
You’re busy wondering why he made you suck another man’s cock today if he cares about your anniversary. But then again, you’ve long accepted that what he wants won’t always make sense. It’s not your job to make it make sense. It’s just your job to do it. 
“C’mon, let’s go downstairs,” he says. 
You swallow hard around the sudden fear, and he laughs. 
“What? Had enough yesterday?”
“No, sir,” you say. It’s mostly the truth. Mostly. 
He shakes his head. “Not today. C’mon.”
Now that he moves, you follow. 
Tommy’s already in the basement, which almost gives you pause, if only because his movement startles you. 
Joel has you hop up on the padded table instead of the metal one, typically a sign that either you’re going to be here for a well-extended time or that he’s going to fuck you on it. 
Tommy’s setting things you don’t recognize out on the little cart, but you don’t try very hard to look. Looking makes your breathing get a little ragged, so you look at Joel instead. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs, bending slightly to give you a kiss before he begins to slowly circle the table, fastening straps over your body. 
He’s left the dress on, which is weird, too, but you’re not complaining. It’s always a little chilly down here and even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re glad he’s not made you bare yourself completely in front of Tommy. 
It’s a lot of straps. You watch curiously, if not a little dazed, as he secures your ankles, thighs, stomach, chest both above and below your breasts, arms in three places, neck, and head. 
The one around your neck clips to your collar, not adding another band or choking you. But you’re unable to lift your head and neck at all. 
When he’s done with the strap across your forehead, he smooths away the worry lines that crease beneath it. 
“Just need ya to hold real still. You’re probably going to like this, but don’t fuckin’ come.”
“Yes, sir.” Your eyes are wide and worshipful as you wait for further commands. 
“Be real good for Tommy, okay?”
Your heart pounds in your throat, but you promise immediately. 
He hops up to sit on the spanking bench nearby. 
“Where first?” Tommy says. 
“Hip,” Joel says, settling in to watch. 
Tommy goes about his business and pulls the bottom halves of the table apart, wrenching your legs open slowly. He spreads them wide and slides a stool over, situating himself right up by your cunt, and flips the hem of your dress up over your belly button. 
You whimper and try to look at Joel for any indication of how you’re supposed to behave, but the restraints don’t allow enough wiggle room. 
Something cold smears across the front of your left hip, and, much to Joel’s surprise, you break. You’re still raw in more than one way from the previous day. 
“Please, sir,” you blurt, lip trembling and eyes squeezed tight. 
He hops down, brow furrowed, and comes closer, raising a hand to Tommy to pause him. 
He cups your face. “Please, what, baby?” His other hand rubs up and down your side. 
You force your eyes open to look at him, blurred through waiting tears. 
“Please, can I have a gag?” you say. Your eyes are scrunched, and fists clenched. 
He strokes his hand over your cheek. “‘Course you can. Good girl.”
The praise keeps you calm while he steps away. When he comes back, you open your mouth wide, and he settles it between your lips. 
You nearly cry in relief when you feel the little bulb press inside, not much different than the head of his cock. A few tears spill over when he leans down to kiss your forehead. 
“Atta girl, he says, pinching your chin before returning to his perch. 
The warmth of his touch lingers, and you let the pressure of the gag distract you from where Tommy starts to move again. You suck on it steadily, eyes fluttering shut when you feel the unmistakable scrape of a blade across your hip. 
Shaving. He’s shaving you. You can’t fathom why, with only peach fuzz reaching there. And you think maybe it’d be a cold day in hell before Joel let anyone shave your pubic hair. He liked it kept trimmed but not too neat. 
“I’m from the seventies, baby. Women’re supposed to have a nice healthy bush,” he had told you fairly early on when you were just dating. He hadn’t told you to stop shaving and waxing, but of course, you had. 
Warm water washes over the area with a washcloth not far behind. Tommy’s firm hand does a final sweep with something cold. 
“Alright, honey,” Tommy says, his voice almost seeming fond , “just hold still and be a good girl, okay?” 
As if you’d do anything else. 
You startle a little at the loud buzz that kicks up, and Tommy rubs gloves fingers over the opposite hip for just a moment. 
And then he gets to work. It hurts . But the pain clues you into what’s going on, and you come to the only logical conclusion: Joel’s having you tattooed. 
You start to cry, the feeling of being loved and owned overwhelming. You don’t hear Joel’s chuckle, buried as it gets under the gun in Tommy’s hands. 
You thought it was overly cautious of him earlier, to worry about you having an orgasm during anything involving Tommy. But you get it now. The pain itself is bearable, almost delicious, but the rush of euphoria in your veins from the mere concept is intoxicating. 
It goes on and on. Maybe it’s only half an hour. Maybe it’s four. The pain cycles, fading to a soothing heat before building back up to a scald. 
You don’t realize it’s over right away. The buzz of the gun plays on in your brain even when the room falls quiet. And Tommy’s doing something to it, probably wiping it down, but your skin still rages. 
Joel hops down and comes over to the side of your left leg. “Shit, that’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says to his brother. 
“Looks damn good. Hey, she’s got a real pretty pussy, huh?” He says, elbowing Joel. “S’funny, watchin’ her leak all over.”
Joel peers over, running a finger over your cunt, and laughs. “Knew you’d like that,” he says.
You whimper. 
He pulls out his phone and snaps a photo. “Want to see, baby?” He asks though he’s already turning the screen to you. 
The skin is red and irritated, but the ink takes your breath away. In shiny black, right there on your hip, sits a blocky “JM” surrounded by a circle. It looks like a fucking brand. 
Your eyes fly to his, whining desperately and praying he understands. A sly grin spreads across his face, and the tip of his middle finger traces oh so gently up your slit. 
“Come for me, baby,” he says, not bothering to touch you further. He knows you won’t need it. 
Vision blacking out, you writhe uselessly against the restraints as the pleasure batters through you. You’re only vaguely aware that the loud keening sound is coming from you, but it’ll register later when you feel the raw ache in your throat. 
Tommy whistles. “Sorry I doubted you, princess.”
You whine through the aftershocks, tears welling up again at the thought of the tattoo. You hope Tommy would leave so Joel will fuck you. 
Then you remember him asking, “Where first?” just as Tommy drags his stool around to the right side of your torso. 
Joel comes with him, rolling up his sleeves and tinkering with something on the cart. They both touch your arm a lot, fingers roving and adjusting you. You start to tune it out until Tommy lathers a spot on the inside of your wrist. 
Once it’s been shaved and cleaned, someone presses something against the spot for a moment. 
“Well?” Joel says. 
“Lines look clear to me,” Tommy says. He’s leaning close to your arm. 
Joel doesn’t walk away this time. As the gun kicks back to life, he stays with his hand resting on your upper arm, looming over Tommy’s shoulder. 
It’s easier this time, now that you know what to expect. It hurts, but you’ve had worse and probably will again. You’re feeling a bit too dizzy, though, when it finally stops. 
“This one’s for you to see,” Joel says, starting to unlatch the straps. He frees your arm first and then your head and neck, plus the gag. The ache makes itself known as soon as you shift a little. 
You peer immediately at your wrist, and a strange clenching tears through your chest. A few inches below your palm lays the dark outline of Joel’s thumbprint. 
“Oh,” you whisper, a strange tingling spreading through your limbs. “Oh.” 
“Knew you’d like it,” he says, lips curling into a smug smirk. 
Once you’re untethered, he peels your dress off so the fabric won’t brush against your hip. 
“There’s a protein bar and a bottle of water on the coffee table,” Joel says. “Go eat and wait by my chair.”
You’re swaying a little but he helps you down and makes sure you can stay on your feet before he removes his hands from your waist. 
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You make your way upstairs in a daze. Truthfully, you don’t really remember it. When they come upstairs, you’re knelt in your place, wrapper and empty bottle on the table. 
“Good girl,” Joel says, lowering himself with a little groan into his recliner. He shifts around and pulls his cock out. “C’mere.”
You hop up immediately, and he takes you by the waist to help you settle where he’s fully hard already.
“Don’t move,” he says, to your great disappointment. “None of that,” he scolds at your pout. “It’s my turn. Just relax.”
Tommy sets the gun and equipment up to the side of the chair. You settle against Joel’s chest, snuggling in and resting your head on his shoulder so you can watch. 
Joel’s other hand, the one not waiting in place, comes up to cup the back of your head. He bends his head down to kiss where he can reach. “You’re being so good. Just a little bit more, and then you can take this cock.”
“Do not come on her tattoo, Joel,” Tommy says. 
Joel laughs, but Tommy smacks his arm. “I’m serious. It’ll fuck it up and probably infect it. Don’t fuckin’ do it.”
“I’ll wait ‘till it’s healed, don’t worry.”
You moan and clench around him at the idea, which only encourages his pleased chuckling. 
Tommy takes your hand, peeling it from where it rested against Joel’s chest, idly brushing through the hair there. You let him, letting it go limp and unresistant.
He presses your thumb against an ink pad and pushes it down on a piece of paper, rolling it carefully. He repeats the process a few times before he’s satisfied. Wiping it clean, he coats it one more time before pressing it against Joel’s wrist.  
You stare, rapt, as he traces the lines of your fingerprint onto Joel’s thick arm, framed by dark hair. It sits in parallel to the watch on his other wrist. 
“Where d’you want these?” Tommy says after he’s wrapped up and started to pack away the equipment. He’s holding the papers where they tested your print.
“The safes. One in each office,” Joel says. 
It’s weird, certainly, but so is Joel, so you don’t give it much thought. 
He’s cradling your face in his palm, looking at you with something so tender and ferocious that you can’t possibly look away. He thrusts up into you, his other hand tight on the hip opposite the tattoo.
It hurts, but, well, you don’t mind. 
The way he fucks you open now is slow, cruel after making you sit still for so long, but he’s savoring it. Savoring the way you can’t help but stare at him in worshipful bliss. It’s like a drug, the way his attention makes you hazy. He’s got you hooked, addicted, right where he wants you. His. 
Not a damn part of you that isn’t. 
The smirk curls across his face, and his hand curls around your neck, abandoning the gentle caress for something you both understand as love. You come on his cock when he tells you, every time he tells you, as he leaves you gasping and clutching his forearm, not prying him away but holding on as the room spins. 
When he fills you, he kisses you deeply, hand back around your throat as his mouth takes the rest of your air. You collapse against his chest when he lets go, and he holds you there with a smug, satiated smile and a soft kiss to the top of your head.
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You doze in and out in his lap as he and Tommy share a bottle of bourbon. 
“Damn, I shoulda brought Daisy over. You haven’t had someone for her to play with in a while,” you hear Tommy say through the fog of your brain.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” Joel says. His hand is scratching at your scalp and it feels so good you almost forget Tommy is talking.
“... my wife and your little pet—” he’s saying.
You don’t mean to open your eyes, but you catch his as soon as you do. He laughs. “Yeah, I got a wife. I’m not as mean as my brother, here.” 
You find that hard to believe, but also, you don’t really think of Joel as mean. He’s strict, sure, and he has high expectations. But he takes such good care of you, and you want for nothing. 
The phrase stirs something odd in your head. Do you want for nothing? Well, it’s at least partially true. You don’t want anything, not a thing you have or don’t have. You’re happy with whatever Joel gives. 
It’s probably the same thing. Besides, you wanted that career; you wanted to put on a face, a mask, and pretend to be someone who gave a shit about the company’s reputation. And you were wrong, so wrong. And Joel’s always been right. So what do you know about what you want?
Joel’s rumbling voice startles you a little where you’re tucked against his chest. “She was one ‘a mine, y’know,” he says to you. 
Tommy’s wearing a sly grin. “Yeah, until you scared the shit out of her,” he says, laughing. “Poor little thing didn’t know what to do with herself.” 
“She wasn’t like you,” Joel says. He waits as if he expects a reaction, but you don’t stir from your safe place in his arms. 
“Nah, not everyone’s as fucked up as y’all,” Tommy says. “I ain’t a sadist,” he says to you, a glint in his eye. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love puttin’ her in her place, but mostly, I just like havin’ my pretty little wife at home.” 
Joel’s watching you; you can feel the heft of his gaze. But you’re so blissed out, so calm right here in his lap, dripping his seed slowly around where his cock still fills you. 
“Would that bother you? Playin’ with a girl who used to be Joel’s?” Tommy goads.
You think about it for a moment. “She ever get his mark?”
Tommy grins, teeth like a shark. “Nope.”
You hum, unbothered, and nuzzle your cheek against Joel.
“Attagirl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “Knew you’d learn this time.” 
You gaze at his thumbprint on your arm. The cells around it will grow and die, but not his claim on you. 
It’s almost comforting, you think, that by the time that fades, there’ll be nothing left of you anyway. 
bonus: the art of breaking playlist
thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who asked for a part two and expressed love for the first. I will admit I am INCREDIBLY nervous to publish this both because it's kind of fucked up but also because so many of you loved the first part and I'm scared this won't live up to your expectations.
please, if you enjoyed this, let me know! soothe my anxiety lol. and if you don't want to publically do so, anon is always on.
i love you!
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sleep-drunk-kitten · 2 days
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𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
pairing: enhypen x fem!reader
genre: crack, fluff, isekai!au, royalty!au
content warnings: slight allusion to suicidal thoughts, swearing, reader is anxious about the possibility of being killed
summary: after dying in a freak accident involving a suspiciously familiar white and blue truck, y/n wakes to find herself in the body of a petty side villain from a romance fantasy novel, doomed to die at the hands of her own fiance.
notes: I'm terrible at summaries but the girlies who get it get it!! This short series is going to be a very lighthearted parody of your typical romance isekai manhwa🤭with all the usual shenanigans and tropes that typically follow! I hope you all enjoy~
I will be making a taglist for this fic, so if you're interested in being added please either drop an ask or let me know in the comments
Everything after the cut IS proofread for once, but please feel free to let me know if any typos slipped through the cracks!
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
  “Let's go over this one more time,” you say, pacing back and forth, shivering as your feet press into cold marble.
  “You said that five rehashes ago babe,” your best friend whines, head lolling over the side of your bed, “I think we get the plot, a bunch of Very Hot men all want you dead because you're sexy and you don't get along with their needy pick me girlfriend.”
  “That- well I mean yeah,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “but that's not the point, Sun, the point is that we need to figure out how to make sure I, y'know, don't fucking die?!” 
  Sunoo groans, his silky black pyjamas blending into your tangled sheets so they cascade around him in an inky puddle when he slides closer to the floor. “The Princess was a bitch, a mean grumpy little thot, just don't be a hoe, avoid the Hot Men, and you should be fine- yah! What's with the face!-”
  Expression pressed somewhere between exasperation and disgust, you shake your head at him. 
  “You've clearly never read an isekai manhwa, you can’t just run away from the plot, it holds onto you like a clingy stalker ex… sometimes as a clingy stalker ex.”
  “So? Just… stick with plan Don’t Be A Thot?” he pauses for a moment before a shit eating grin spreads across his face, and you preemptively snag a pillow off the loveseat beside you. “It'll be hard to pretend to be something you're not but I'm sure you can do it!” 
  And there it is. 
  With well-practised precision, the embroidered cushion lands squarely in his face. 
  “This is my life on the line here Kim Sunoo! Could you take it seriously for just two seconds?”
  Against your will, your eyes begin to sting with tears, limbs already growing restless in the few moments you've been standing still, fatigue and fear battling under your skin. 
  You hadn't slept peacefully in over three weeks. Your mind refusing to shut down of its own volition since you'd woken up in the room you now paced in, in the body you now paced in. 
  For the first four days, you were insane. 
  Screaming and pleading with a man who claimed to be your father, confused by the sorrow in his eyes and the tenderness in his hands as he prevented you from leaving your room.
  Babbling through tears to the maids who filtered in and out, telling them that the title they were calling you by was not your own.
  Curled into a corner of a closet, trying and failing to steady your breathing as you slowly came to terms with the fact that this was really happening. 
  You'd been truck-kun-ed clean out of the life you'd known. 
  Despair followed. 
  Hopeless, hollow grief when you realised what your name in this particular world might mean. 
  Princess y/n l/n. 
  Spoiled and arrogant daughter of the Duke.
  A side villain of little significance set to die for the sake of the female lead. 
  Set to die.
  You'd laughed when it hit you. The one thing you'd wanted more than anything in your previous life was being handed to you on a silver platter. How fortuitous. 
  It wasn’t until the eighth day, when you'd resigned yourself to your fate, that Sunoo came crashing through the large oak doors that were usually locked to keep you in, raised voices and a stamped of footsteps following behind him. 
  “SHE'S MY FRIEND I CAN SEE HER WHENEVER THE HELL I WANT,” he’d shouted. 
  Slamming your doors shut as he turned to face you. 
  He was the one who'd been running, face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly. But it felt like you were the one catching your breath, heart pounding in your ears. 
  “Sunoo?...” his name was barely a whisper on your lips.
  “(y/n),” relief flooded his features, “you're here.”
  He stumbled towards you, pulling you into his chest, body shaking as he held you so tight you could barely breathe. 
  “You're here you're here you're here-” he babbled, tears soaking through your clothes. 
  It took a long time to console him, and longer still for you to believe that he was there, puffy face squished between your shaking hands. 
  You remembered he'd been walking with you when the accident happened, his smiling face frozen in time when the headlights rushed closer. But you'd thought he survived. You didn't imagine for a second that he'd somehow landed in the same world as you. 
  That he'd be just as annoying in this world as he was in the last.
  “Okay okay, I'm sorry,” he says in the present, standing and dragging your blankets with him, “I was trying to lighten things up, you've been stressing about this too much, I’m worried.”
  And when he waddles next to you and wraps you in a hug, you know you wouldn't trade his annoying ass for anything. Sunoo was the reason you were trying to find a way to survive this in the first place. Without him, you knew you would've probably gone with the flow of the story, allowing the gallows to take you. 
  “I'm not stressing.”
  “Sweetie, you have a whole conspiracy theory board pinned into what I think is a very valuable painting of your grandfather.”
  “Touchè.”
  You both turn to look at said board, a mess of string and poorly sketched portraits pinned to a painting of a grumpy looking old man on a white horse. “Remind me again who's who, I think I have the gay prince mixed up with the emo soldier boy.”
  You smile, rolling your eyes, knowing full well he has no trouble remembering the character’s you’d told him about at least a dozen times. 
  “This one,” you say, pointing to an angular stick figure with a crown surrounded by sparkles, “is the crown prince who I'm engaged to because of fuckin’ course.”
  Sunoo nods, “Of fuckin’ course.”
  “The buff one is the knight I hire to kidnap the female lead when I think his royal highness has a thing for her, except knightey over here has a conscience and thinks the female lead is too pure and sweet to kidnap or whatever and ends up vowing to protect her or something.”
  “You'd think someone with a conscience would have the decency to do a job if they had the audacity to take money for it, I mean he had no issue kidnapping a chick before he had the hots for her, that's kinda gross.”
  “When you put it like that… anyway, the last two are a priest who wants her for her divine powers blah blah blah and the crown prince's illegitimate little brother.”
  “His brother?” 
  “Yeaaa…”
  “There’s other fish in the sea my man…” he says, giving the second crowned stick figure a sympathetic little pat. “So of the lot, who's the biggest threat?”
  “My fiance…”
  “No matter what we decide to do, you gotta dump the guy right?”
  “Yes,” you say, confidence creeping into your voice. “There are a lot of variables, I've read enough of these things to know that 90% of the time they get kinda weird about their fiances when they dump them, but it's gotta be done.” 
  “Then we start there, the rest of this nonsense can't be figured out till it happens.”
  He waves a hand at the other coloured threads linking squares of paper with possible outcomes and scenarios scribbled over them.
  “That's true…” you breathe, brows furrowed, eyes darting across the board.
  Sunoo’s lips curl into a slight pout when he sees you slipping back into the agitated state he’d been trying to coax you out of for the past fortnight. If he were being completely honest with you, he doesn’t believe in all this isekai nonsense, sure that if you simply avoid the plot you could easily live out your lives as a wealthy nobles without much trouble, but he knows that there isn’t much point in arguing with you. No, the best way to look out for you would be to support you as he’d always done, to have your back in this world the same way he had in the last, even if he thought you were being ridiculous.  
With a sigh, Sunoo presses a thumb into the crease between your eyes, distracting you from the painting of your grandfather, holding back a smile at the way your nose scrunches in annoyance.
  “Stop worrying,” he says, smoothing over the spot a few times before planting a kiss on your forehead, “whatever happens, we'll handle it together, okay?”
  “...Okay,” you breathe, resting your forehead on his shoulder.
  He presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms encircling your waist, the warm pressure of his presence surrounding you comforting. The one constant that had followed you into this life. “Plus, we’re early, aren’t we? The plot of your novel doesn’t start for…”
  “Another year,” you sigh, “It all starts in their second year at the royal academy, when the female lead shows up as a transfer from the land they were at war with till a while ago… a show of peace or something once it’s all over.” 
  “We have time… you’ll be just fine babe, he says. “Plus, you keep worrying about them killing you, but don't they always end up falling in love with the dimension yeeted villainess in those comics?”
  You scoff, pulling away. “I highly doubt that's possible Sunoo, I'm not the main villainess, I'm just a random side character.”
  “A gorgeous, quick witted, adorable little random side character with an amazing sense of humour and such a big brain that she chooses to use for the dumbest things-”
  “Sunoo!” you laugh, plucking another cushion off your couch to throw at him. 
  There was absolutely no way.
  …
  Right?
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lestappenforever · 1 day
Note
DROP THE TEXT EXCHANGE FIC 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪
I would like to preface this by saying that threats are not a good incentive to get me to write anything, anon. But, you're in luck this time because I was already feeling inspired as hell.
The text exhange in question.
Dedicated to @f1writingbyme, for once again being my muse, allowing me to scream ideas at her, and helping me decide on the very important details along the way.
AO3 link.
---
There's a hand on his shoulder during his post-qualifying interview in the media pen; a firm squeeze followed by equally firm pats, and Charles knows who it is before he even lays eyes on Max. After all, he could recognize that touch anywhere, at any time.
His face lights up with pure glee at the sight of the Dutchman, the way it always does.
Green eyes meet blue, and despite Max's own disappointing qualifying landing him in a measly P6, the Red Bull driver looks at Charles with nothing but genuine joy and pride. Because in spite of his own struggles, Max is irrevocably, endlessly happy for Charles.
Max knows how much this means to him — has been there for every single disappointing weekend the Monégasque has experienced in his home race over the past few years. He's seen the heartbreak in his eyes, listened to him raging about the mistakes made there in the past; both by Charles himself and by his team. As with practically everything else in his career, Max has been right there with him. And for that reason, Charles is absolutely certain that even if Max had ended up having to start tomorrow's race from P20, the Dutchman still would have found it in himself to be as happy for Charles as he would have been for himself had Max been the one to secure pole.
They clasp hands like they have done hundreds, if not thousands, of times before. Max's grip is tight, but Charles' is even tighter, as he is overcome with a realization that has hit him so many times before over the years:
He doesn't want to let go. And he can tell by the way Max squeezes his hand one more time that the feeling is mutual.
Charles sees his own emotions, his own desires, reflected in those beautiful blue eyes — can feel the electricity simmering between them, just beneath the surface, the way it has done for so many years. Always there, close enough for them both to reach out and grasp and yet, just out of reach. It's a line neither of them have dared to cross, both highly aware of the fact that if — when — they do, there will be no going back.
The unasked question that has always been there, but never spoken aloud, lies heavy between them.
'Are you feeling this, too?'
'No,' the other would always answer, just as silently as the question itself. Even if it's a lie. Even if it has always been a lie; one they've both told themselves and each other as a way to ensure they don't step over that line.
But, in that moment, Charles is sure he would never even want to go back. Sure that if there is one thing he wants almost as much as winning his home race tomorrow, it's crossing that line with Max. To give into that oh-so-powerful pull between them they've both been trying and failing to ignore for God knows how long.
They maintain eye contact only for a mere few seconds, but it's enough for Charles to see that flash in Max's eyes.
He wants to cross that line, too. It's about time. It's long overdue.
Max lets go of his hand and walks away, and Charles looks down at the ground briefly, trying to will his cheeks not to flush with the intensity of such a brief exchange in front of the camera, before returning his focus to the interviewer.
His mind, however, never lets go of Max.
If Charles hadn't already felt like he was flying, he sure as hell is now.
***
His phone vibrates in his pocket a little while later, and Charles feels his heart picking up the pace as he reads Max's name on the display.
'Congratulations on pole! Well deserved!'
His heart flutters.
'Thank you! I'm so happy 😊'
He sends a second text immediately after.
'It's a shame you're not up there with me, though'
Max doesn't leave him waiting long for a response.
'Still 78 laps to go, mate. You think I won't do everything to get into the top 3 tomorrow?'
Charles glances around, making sure nobody is paying attention to him as he tries and fails to bite back a smile as excitement starts coursing through him.
'You really think you can overtake two Mercedes, at least one McLaren and a Ferrari?'
It's a stupid question, Charles knows, because if anyone can do it in Monaco, it's Max fucking Emilian Verstappen. But he can't resist the jab; can't resist the urge to try to get under Max's skin, just a little. Just like he hasn't been able to resist since he and Max first met back in karting when when they were literal children.
The bubble with the three dots appears briefly before disappearing and reappearing a few seconds later. Then:
'To get to share a podium with you in your home race?'
'I could overtake Michael, Seb and Ayrton if I had to.'
The smile turns into a full-blown grin, and Charles feels giddy as he reads the two messages over and over again. The anticipation thrumming within him, bubbling just underneath the surface of his skin, is so overwhelming he needs three attempts to send his next message that consists of a single word:
'Yeah?'
Then, with more confidence:
'Prove it.'
Max's response is immediate.
'Oh, I will.'
As he pockets his phone, his heart beating wildly in his chest and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he knows Max isn't just talking about the race.
He hadn't thought he could feel even more excited about tomorrow than he already did, but as he has done so many times with so many things in the past, Max proves him wrong.
***
On Sunday, Charles is preparing to leave his driver's room and make his way to the garage to get ready for the race. But as he opens the door, he's met with the familiar face of Max Verstappen.
"Max, what are you—,"
The Dutchman places a hand on Charles' chest and firmly pushes him back into the room, following him inside and closing the door behind him with his foot in one swift movement. Charles barely has time to process what's happening before Max has grabbed a hold of his shoulder, turned him around and pushed him up against the wall by the door.
Charles has effectively lost his ability to speak as he watches Max lean in until their lips are mere inches apart.
"I needed to see you alone, before the race," he says, voice barely above a whisper. Max's hands drop from his shoulders, instead sliding down his chest, his stomach, coming to a halt on his waist. "To wish you luck."
Charles swallows past the lump in his throat. "You think I need it?" he asks, trying to sound calm and collected, but his voice betrays him almost as much as his dilated pupils do.
"No," Max says immediately, allowing his lips to brush featherlight against Charles'. It's not a kiss, and even if Charles so desperately wants it to be, he doesn't cross that line.
Not yet.
"But I wanted to do it anyway," the Dutchman adds, moving one hand from Charles' waist and raising it to cup Charles' jaw instead, letting his thumb drag gently over the Monégasque's bottom lip.
It sends a full-body shiver through him; one Max notices if the way the small smirk on his lips is anything to go by.
"Good luck, Charles," Max whispers, thumb still on Charles' bottom lip as he leans in closer, closer, until his lips are touching the back of his own thumb, the digit being the only thing separating them.
Charles' heart is beating so hard that he's sure Max must be able to feel his pulse against his thumb. The Dutchman's other hand tightens on Charles' waist, his pupils practically making the blue of his iris disappear altogether.
The thumb moves and Charles thinks that Max will finally — fucking finally, after far too many years — kiss him.
Only for Max to lean his head to the side and instead presses a gentle kiss to Charles' cheekbone; a careful brush of lips against soft skin.
"I'll see you on the podium," he breathes against the skin of Charles' cheek, before pulling away completely and turning to put his hand on the door handle. He pauses before opening the door, looking at Charles with an expression the Monégasque doesn't think he's ever seen before.
"Hey, Charles?"
The Monégasque blinks at him.
"Are you feeling this, too?" Max asks him then, voicing the question that has only been asked through looks up until that point.
And Charles, knowing there is only one correct answer — knows there is only one answer that conveys the truth — sticks with the lie.
For now.
"No."
Max smiles at him, a soft and private thing. Charles' own expression morphs into one of adoration and longing. He returns the smile.
"Me neither."
And with that, Max opens the door and walks out of Charles' driver's room, as if he hasn't just turned both their worlds upside down.
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argreion · 1 day
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𝑷𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒔
𝑨 𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂
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𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — Dub-con(?), Voyeruism, Monsterfuckery, a tiny bit of blood talk. Subtle power dynamic if you think about it. Possibly CNC too if you think about it like that.
𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — Uhm, random Plagas Leon thought after thinking about one monster fucking fic. Cough. Very messy, don't care, we ball with Plagas Leon. Maybe this should be a bot or a fic? I think it's already a bot?? 😭 Just have fun hearing my thought or not, idrc. I don't know what I should warn this for, so... Just gonna kinda cover all bases.
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Thinking about Plagas Leon, who wraps his tail around your ankle and mounts you from behind. UV lights from above turned on for your safety. Fangs digging into your nape to the point it bleeds. His eyes fluttering at the sweet release of you and him combined. The forbidden fruit on his tongue. Scientists shouldn’t be fucking their subjects. Scientists shouldn’t be watching their colleagues be fucked right now.  Overlooking it from that window above with cold faces. They could put it down as a ‘stamina’ test, or maybe use his cum for a sperm sample. Someone had to do it in your workplace, and it was you. You shouldn’t take the forbidden fruit, but you did. You’re just like Eve with Adam, temptation at its finest.
All you could hear was the mutterings of ‘breeding’ and ‘plagas’. Maybe it was the only thing he knew. Was he even considered human now? He looked the part, sounded it, and even spoke like it. Maybe it was the breeding aspect that made him go haywire. Made him bear his fangs and rub at his crotch like an animal. Whimpering at the fact he didn’t have a mate to love on.
You took pity, of course, you did. Leon acted like a wounded animal, plus he was so sweet! Rubbing his nose into your wrist. Hearing the purring from his chest and the way his eyes glossed over. Resting his head in your lap and falling into a blissful slumber. He liked it too much, clinging to you like a Koala. Didn’t want you to leave that glass or leave him. To stay with you, collar or not. His sweet little mate, the only one who treated him human.
That doesn’t answer the question, does it? How does one learn about him? To get close to him? Too close, possibly? To the point, Leon starts mounting you and fucking into you without abandon. Hissing like a cat at the ‘friends’ overlooking the pair of you, writing on clipboards. Observing primal nature at its finest.
The answer? The promise of something sweet: you. You ignorant, beautiful fool.
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𝑷.𝑺. — Also! If you guys read and get down here, uhm... Comment if you'd like me to do silly drawings with Leon? Visual Novel style or with RE people in general! I've been really interested in just being funny or drawings things. So drawing ideas are open to throw at me?? :')
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veren-cos · 3 days
Text
Bachelors (sdv) x gn!reader
Bachelors and self-harm comfort
TW mentions of Self Harm and suicidal ideation.
If you struggle with either of these, I strongly encourage you to reach out to someone and get help. You are not alone.
These are not super graphic, but definitely more graphic than my other fics if you have read those. So please read with caution.
These are all assuming you are in an established relationship.
Sam
• This was a long standing issue for you. You knew Sam would find out eventually one way or another, so you made it a point to tell him rather then him accidentally finding out.
• But when you did tell him, it was pure panic.
• He doesn't know how to help you, he didn't know how he never noticed! Does he tell anyone? Does he call anyone? Why didn't you tell him until now??
• Once he gathers himself a little bit, he asks for more details.
• He knows that you need him, and not to make it about him by breaking down.
• He starts keeping an extra eye out for if you are acting any different, or if he sees any warning signs.
• He tries really hard to be there for you, and knows he won't be perfect.
• Makes a trip to Harvey's to ask how to help 'someone' who struggles with sh and suicidal ideation.
• Harvey suggested that Sam brings that 'someone' to the clinic with him to have a little chat.
• You and Sam head down one day and you all make a plan on what to do when things get really bad.
• Mostly involves extra support, and you getting into a therapist on a semi-regular basis.
Sebastian
• Sebastian I think would be the most aware of the signs besides Harvey?
• So when he sees you avoiding him a bit, or not letting him touch you when normally you're all over him, he knows something is wrong.
• "Babe, whats up?" He gentle grabs your arm. "What's wrong? You've been acting different for a while now. Are you okay?"
• He isn't accusatory or anything when you tell him. He just pulls you into a tight hug.
• He just wants to be there for you. Self Harm is a really difficult topic, both to experience, and to witness. He tries to get to the cause of why you do it, but you honestly don't even know.
• You know you shouldn't, but sometimes it feels like all you can do.
• After talking about it for a long time, you eventually go to sleep in his arms.
• When you wake up, he already had some sort of breakfast made because he knew you'd be too tired.
• He left out some super old books about mental health he had (Aka like one from high school) and offered to look through them with you.
• Checks in with you frequently, and isn't one to dance around the topic. Yes, he handles it gently and shocking calmly, but he knows you can't avoid talking about it.
Alex
• Not going to lie, the way I see a relationship progressing (Aka kinda intense and fast paced) he would find out before intimacy.
• You were already a little nervous so you completely blanked on your old scars and relatively new self harm.
• So when he saw, you panicked, and then he panicked because you were panicking, and all around it was chaos.
• Nothing went to plan that day because you just ran to the bathroom to cry.
• ...
• He knocked on the door, "babe.. Could you come out please? We should talk about this."
• "I don't want to"
• " Babe come on." He tried the handle and it opened.
• "It's okay. You're okay. I'm not mad, now can you talk to me about this?"
• You opened up and told him everything. With Alex being the most stereotypically attractive out of all the Bachelor's, you'd be very nervous about letting him see scars.
• But he doesn't care. He thinks they are proof of how strong you are and how far you have come.
• "Babe I just want to be here for you. We don't have to rush anything. I don't care if you have scars, you're beautiful. I love you, and you will get through this."
Harvey
• Harvey finds out during your first physical.
• This I feel would be just after you started dating.
• But he asks the dreaded question of "have you had thoughts of hurting yourself or others?"
• You knew you had to tell him. No matter how awkward or emotionally taxing it got, it was important both in your relationship and for your personal health.
• So you did.
• He let his little doctor mask slip because he thought he already knew all your medical business, and that this was just a formality.
• "Dear..?" He looked so sad for you. "Why haven't you told me this?"
• Legit starts tearing up, because how on earth could you hate yourself? And to the point of hurting yourself?
• You start apologizing for not telling him sooner, "Harvey we had just started dating, I didn't want to put too much on you too soon. This is my problem to deal with!"
• And then he takes a few deep breaths, and collects himself to do this in a more professional manner.
• "My love, you do not have to go through this alone. I need you to tell me if you ever feel like.. hurting yourself. Okay? Call me. Call the clinic. Get me if I'm home. I will be there for you."
• "Even if we weren't dating, I would still be there for you! So no matter how much I care for you, because I so deeply care for you, this is my job."
• Sets you up with a therapist in the city, because he knows that even if you know you can talk to him, it's good to have a non-personal professional to be able to talk to.
Shane
• You helped him, now it was his turn to help you.
• Found out a morning he woke up early and you forgot to close the bathroom door. Not a fun scene to wake up to.
• I don't want to say he got angry, but he shouted,
• "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"
• It was more out of sheer panic and distress rather than anger.
• You panicked, dropped everything, and basically burst into tears on the spot apologizing.
• Then he freaked out even more because he yelled at you and ran to give you a tight hug.
• Shane tried to calm you down, but it took a really long time to get you to stop hyperventilating.
• Eventually, he helped you clean everything up, and although it was really hard for you, he took you to Harvey's.
• Shane knew that he wouldn't be able to give you all the help you needed, he was still recovering himself.
• But he tries really hard to help, the same way you do with him.
• He helped you set up going to a therapist. You go to the same office as he does.
• He will be there for you every step of the way. Won't let you go.
• He truly understands, and just wants the both of you to feel better.
Elliott
• He would feel guilty for not noticing the signs.
• "My love..?" He is just so confused when he sees. "My love what did you do?"
• Doesn't exactly panic but is just dumbfounded. How could you hate yourself? How could you not like yourself? Why on earth..?
• He helps you clean up, though is a little queezy with blood.
• He would keep himself relatively strong in front of you, but you hear him crying for you when he thinks you're asleep.
• He is there for you, he asks Leah because he trusts her (though would not actually bring up your name. Would make it under the guise of a situation in his book)
• He wouldn't invade your privacy. But he just would check with you a lot more.
• He loves you, and just wants to see you love yourself.
An* Once again, if you struggle with self harm or suicidal ideation, please reach out for help. Helplines and resources are a quick Google away for your area. You are not alone. I promise things will get better.
Masterlist
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ponderingmoonlight · 7 hours
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hi lovely ! you asked for kny requests and i've just finished my kny volume 22 re-read, so thats perfect timing 💙
I was wondering if you could write something with Yoriichi — (tw for potential child loss)
Maybe a hurt/comfort fic where his pregnant wife actually survives the demon attack while he's away (but maybe she gets quite badly injured and their unborn child doesn't make it, if you want to add a little extra angst to it. If not then that's totally fine, this man deserves a happy ending after all 🥺)
Of course, you're the writer — feel free to take any creative direction you'd like or ignore this request if you're not comfortable with it. Have a lovely day/night! <3
Again, I'm beyond sorry you were forced to wait for this so long! But here you go honey, let me know what you think <3
Yoriichi saving his pregnant wife and unborn child just in time
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Pairing: Yoriichi x pregnant!wife!reader
Word Count: 4,2k
Synopsis: You never expected to face a demon ever again, especially not when you are about to deliver your child while your beloved husband Yoriichi is in search for a midwife. Will you and your child be alright? Will your husband make it back on time?
Warnings: injury, horror, child birth, tortue, description of death, extreme angst to fluff, last part is not proofread
Notes: Since the first Yoriichi fic I wrote, I'm so deeply in love with his character that I adore writing him so much! Since this fic took a while, I would totally appreciate your support through liking, commenting and reblogging this fic - thank's a lot babes <3
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He can’t get enough from simply looking at you. You with your head in the clouds, you with your hand mindlessly roaming around the soft grass underneath, the other one caressing your heavy pregnant belly, you when you give him those surprised eyes as soon as you notice his presence.
“Oh, I wasn’t aware that you’re already here”, you say in a small panicky voice.
You didn’t expect your beloved husband back this soon. If you would have known that he’ll be here by know you would have cleaned the whole house, made him something to eat and-
“I can only imagine what is going on inside your head again.”
His soft but at the same time rough hand touches your cheek gently, the loving gleam in his fuchsia eyes making you blush in an instant. All the voices in your head stop right in their track when he’s around.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Your savior, your best friend. And most importantly, your husband and father of your future child.
“How are you feeling, love? Did you enjoy your afternoon?”, he questions, eyes wandering down your body to your swollen belly.
It was hard leaving you alone in a state like this, but he wasn’t able to resist the urgent call from last night. He might be nothing but another simple man holding a sword, but it is his responsibility to save those who are in need. What else is he able to give to this world?
His hand lands on your belly, feels the tiniest kick of his unborn child against the palm of his hand. At least he was able to create a smaller version of you. Is it a boy, a girl maybe?
“I hope our child is a reflection of you”, he finally mutters into the silence, a small but somehow sad smile forming itself on his lips.
You suddenly forget how to breathe, glossy eyes fixated on his captivating sight. Oh, oh much you hate the stinging fact that your husband thinks so negatively about himself. Why can’t he see all the heroic things he has done so far, how respected he is in the demon slayer corps? Why can’t he see that every inch of his body is flawless? Out of instinct, you let your head rest against his broad chest, breathe in his strong scent. If you could only stay like this here forever, his hand resting against your body while the sun tickles your skin-
A violent moan escapes your lips when a sharp pain runs through your stomach. A kick. A really rough kick, to be exact.
“Are you alright, love? Did something hurt you? Is it the baby?”, your husband asks feverishly, his usual neutral face garbled by worry lines on his forehead.
“Just a kick”, you press out, still fighting to regain your composure.
“I will search for a mid-wife, (y/n).”
His words make your eyes widen in an instant, a wave of fear crushing down on you. Is it really time already? You look down at your swollen belly, so big that you aren’t even able to sit down properly anymore. This has to be the ninth month of your pregnancy.
Your heart sinks. The ninth month. If the books you’ve read are accurate, it really is time.
“I can’t do this, Yoriichi.”
Thick panic runs through your veins, forces your heart almost out of your chest. You aren’t ready to deliver a child, let alone to be a mother. All the things you haven’t read yet, the things you’ve probably never heard of…What if you mess it up? Until you met Yoriichi, all you were able to do was trying to survive. Your mother never had the chance to tell you about those things, isn’t here anymore to stay by your side.
You are…on your own.
“Look at me, (y/n). I will go out and search for a mid-wife and I’ll be back at sunset, you hear me? Just stay inside the house and nothing will happen. I promise to return as early as possible.”
Fuchsia eyes that radiate through your soul immediately. An angelic voice that calms down your tingling nerves with only four sentences. Strong arms that lift you off the ground and lead you back into the warmth of your home.
But know, it’s not the wooden cabin that feels like home. Your eyes wander to the neutral expression he wears on his face, only betrayed by a worried glow in his orbs. It’s him, your beloved husband.
“Are you feeling alright, love?”
You take a deep breath in, a deep breath out. Eyes focused exclusively on him until your mind finally silences. It’s just you and him. You and your beloved husband, the man you would trust with your life without battling an eyelid, the man who made you the person you are today.
“I do”, you breathe out.
Your heartbeat tames down as well as the kicks of your unborn baby, Yoriichi’s hands keeping you from falling over.
“Promise me to lock the doors and wait in bed until I return, (y/n).”
A seriousness you only know from him when he is forced to leave at night veils his calm eyes.
“But…you will be back before the sun sinks, right?”
He gifts you a small smile, hand caressing your cheek so gently that you almost forget about the worry lines decorating his face. The truth is that the next midwife lives miles away. Even if he gets to the village as soon as possible, the sun will be about to set when he returns. Yoriichi can’t help but clench his other hand into a fist next to your stomach. The sheer thought of not making it in time, that you’ll be defenceless.
“Don’t worry, love. Rest your eyes and be assured that I’ll return as soon as possible.”
But he cannot allow himself to fail you, to leave you alone in those oh so merciless nights. He will return, no matter what it costs.
He presses a soft kiss against your forehead before grabbing his sword tightly.
This. This is his fate, his family. You are his whole life.
And he’ll do everything to protect you.
-later that evening-
You are exhausted. Over the last few hours, your body was haunted by waves of pain coming and going like the seasons. Again, you dig your nail into the wooden floor, your heavy breaths hanging in the thick air. You definitely don’t need a midwife to tell you it’s time. Yes, your baby is on its way.
And your husband didn’t return yet.
Your glossy eyes dart towards the window, witness how the sky outside turns bright red in the down-going sun. Is Yoriichi alright? You know how cruel life can be. Maybe he met a person who needed to be saved on his way, maybe the midwife is too old to rush to your side in time.
“Rest your eyes and be assured that I’ll return as soon as possible.”
Those words. Even though he’s not yet by your side, you are able to feel his powerful presence around you, how he calms down your aching heart.
“Everything will turn out alright”, you mutter to yourself while caressing your tummy.
“Everything will be alight…”
You allow your lids to rest, body relaxing for the first time since your husband left. You will get through this, you will deliver your wonderful child tonight. A tiny bundle of joy, an image of its father. Is it a boy, a girl? As long as your child is healthy, you couldn’t care less.
Carefully, you curl up on your futon, snuggle yourself into the blanket that still holds his scent. Maybe you’ll be able to catch a few hours of sleep until he finally comes back. Sleep sure does sound very appealing at the moment.
But just when your breath begins to steady, a violent scratch forces you to sit straight up. It came from outside, without a doubt. Is it an animal, is it…
Your throat gets tight immediately, glossy eyes staring at the closed window in sheer horror. The trees bend back and forth peacefully in what looks like a tender night. But that scratch, it sounded exactly like claws digging into hard wood, sent shivers down your spine immediately. You know that sound all too well, experienced what it means to get slaughtered by a demon before. Just before your whole family died violently, this was exactly what you’ve heard.
Out of instinct, you bury yourself into the corner of the room, the blanket that holds Yoriichi’s scent still pressed against your now shivering body tightly. Please, let it be nothing but a wild animal, let your husband come back home soon. Maybe this is nothing but a nightmare and you’ll wake up any given minute-
A violent pain runs through your body so suddenly that a shriek escapes your lips. Suddenly all air escapes your lungs, the way your belly cramps making you see start. No, you know exactly what this means, that this is not the right time to deliver a baby. Isn’t there anything you can do to stop this? You still need to wait for your husband, the midwife, for this gut-turning feeling to vanish. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, sharp and fast breaths hanging in the thick atmosphere.
But it doesn’t stop there. As if this wasn’t enough already, you can only stare at the door that gets opened painfully slow, claws digging into the wooden frame.
Without any doubt, this is a demon.
You press your sweaty palm against your mouth, force yourself to stop screaming, to stop breathing.
“I know you’re here, human. You smell like a…woman.”
It’s like all life is drained from the dead shell of your body, widened orbs staring at the frightful creature that makes its way into your home. Get up, fight, defend yourself like you saw Yoriichi do countless times, use the knowledge you gained from him.
But you don’t move an inch, don’t dare to look away. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still. Out of all the nights you’ve spent together with your husband, this is the first away from him, the first without his protection. Is all of this a dream, a hallucination to test your nerves?
The second the monster’s deadly red orbs meet yours, you get hit by reality. No, this isn’t a dream.
This will be your death.
“I knew you were here, lady. Let me help you up, okay?”
“N-no. Please d-don’t”, you whimper under your breath.
Your coward of a body doesn’t even fight back when he lifts you off the ground with ease, his nails digging into your soft flesh.
“Oh, you’re expecting a baby, don’t you? Well, does this count as a double kill, then?”
Your baby getting killed? If that thing ends your life, it means your unborn child will never experience dawn, will never get to see the face of its father, will never take in his scent. Your glossy eyes widen in sheer horror, tears now streaming down your face like waterfalls when a single frown form on your forehead.
You couldn’t care less about your own life. After all, you were lucky that Yoriichi saved you back then, didn’t even deserve to survive when your whole family had to die before you. But that oh so innocent child that might have the eyes of its father, the blessing of your life right after your husband. That innocent life cannot be taken.  
There is no way you will let this creature lay hands on it.
Your body reacts faster than your mind. With a surprisingly well-placed kick, you free yourself out of the monster’s casual grip. You need to get out of the house, out where you are able to find shelter, to run away. Your lungs feel like bursting any given minute, legs trembling underneath the weight of yourself and the unborn baby you still carry right under your heart. Even if it means you’ll die in vain, even if you won’t be able to see Yoriichi’s tender eyes ever again, you have to make sure your child is safe.
“I underestimated you, stupid woman. As it seems you didn’t give up on life yet”, the creature purrs what feels like right next to you.
A new nauseous wave of panic rises up your veins, makes you sprint even faster through the thick woods that surround your house. This has always been your favorite place to be. The calm trees waving back and forth in a soft breeze, your husband right by your side-
Your husband. Just the thought of never getting to see him again makes your heart ache. You didn’t even get the chance to thank him one last time, to let him know how much he truly means to you, that he’s way more than the man who saved your life back then.
He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever needed.
A sharp pain that radiates through your lower body sends you straight onto the ground immediately, figure cramping so violently that you can’t catch your breath. No, this is not the time labor, not when a demon is this close.
“Oh, there you are. Did you really think you can run away like that? You, a little human? You made me so man that I will kill you as painfully slow as possible.”
You try to lift your trembling figure off the ground, try to get back onto your feet, to sprint down the forest you know so well. But just when you’re about to get back onto your knees, a stinging pain in your right thigh paired with a contraction sends you straight back.
A violent scream escapes your lips.
Red. Everything around you is discoloured red. Is this your blood? Did this thing kill you already, are you going to die? Despite the way your guts start to turn when you follow the trail of blood, you can’t look away. And there it is indeed, a gaping hole in your leg, throbbing and bleeding.
All color that is left now drains from your face. With an injured leg, your chance to escape this demon’s claws is non-existent. Which means…
Your heart skips a beat, threatens to fail you any given second. What about your unborn child? A violent storm of anger and determination clouds your mind, makes all logical thoughts vanish into thin air.
“You can’t kill me”, you press out.
Since the day you first laid eyes on a demon, you accepted your own death. Your life is worthless anyway, compared to great warriors like your husband himself. But that oh so innocent child, that tiny life you were given to. You ball your hands into fists so tight your knuckles stand out white and lift your throbbing self off the ground. You cannot allow a demon to take the life of that unborn baby.
“I won’t allow you to touch me.”
You realize the stupidity of your words after they spill out of your mouth in rage. You, not allowing a demon to touch your puny figure? Another contraction makes your guts turn and vision almost go black.
As expected the frightful creature draws closer, its unpromising pair of razor-sharp teeth glittering in the dim moonlight. You never expected to see a demon this close again. Oh, how much you hoped you’d never find yourself in that situation again. But you have to get through this, have to make sure you will survive long enough for the mid wife to deliver your child to this world.
His child.
“I’m sorry Yoriichi. I never planned on leaving you alone like this”, you mumble to yourself, shaky lips tinted in salty tears.
“But this all I’m able to do.”
-Yoriichi’s POV-
Something seems off. Is it the way the trees bent back and forth in the soft breeze of the already set sun? Is it that distant smell that hangs in the air, the one that reminds him of fresh blood and lavender?
“We must make haste. I can sense that danger is ahead of us”, he speaks out with firm voice.
He promised you that he’ll be back before the sun goes down, that he will make it on time before demon are able to roam around freely. Are you feeling alright? Is the pain unbearable at this point? Do you still hold trust for him in your heart? His footsteps pick up instinctively, eyes set on the visibly stressed man behind him. In contrary to most people, Yoriichi doesn’t fear the night or the demons it brings. The only thing he fears at the moment is what you have to endure without your husband by your side.
With every he takes forward, the stinging smell of blood mixed with lavender becomes more urgent in his nose.
Lavender.
He always wondered how you did it. Even after washing, all your clothes kept that calming scent that surrounded you as if you were standing in a lavender bush. A smell so sweet that it caught his interest back then before he caught a glimpse of your fascinating orbs, a smell that always reminds him of home. Yoriichi’s home will always be where you are, where the sensation of lavender is the strongest.
Lavender, the stinging smell of blood that hangs in the air. His eyes widen when his mind starts to race. The smell, it radiates from the direction of your shared home, from the direction that usually fills him with excitement. Can it be…?
His heart starts racing uncontrollably while he dashes forward and draws his sword. Let it be nothing but coincidence, a cruel joke his thoughts play on him. But the stinging fragrance of lavender mixed with iron fills his heart with dread, makes his mind go numb. What if you got attacked by a demon, what if you are in great danger? All because he didn’t live up to his promise, because he didn’t make it on time. His eyes roam around the dark area, desperately searching for a sign.
And then his eyes find you.
Yoriichi’s heart stops.
There you lay, leaning against a nearby tree with a puddle of blood surrounding you, widened eyes starring straight into the face of a demon who hollers above you.
“No one is coming to save you, stupid girl.”
He doesn’t waste another second. With a swift motion of his sharp blade, Yoriichi beheads the demon on top of you while a toe-curling scream escapes your lips. Just one look at your sliced-up kimono reveals countless injuries, especially a gaping hole in your thigh. You hold onto your swollen belly for what looks like dear life, eyes still widened in nothing but shock.
“(y/n)”, he gently speaks out while letting himself fall down next to you.
You have to blink a few times. The demon, it was just about to dig its sharp teeth into your sensitive skin, to take the life of your unborn child in front of your eyes.
Maroon.
But those aren’t the deadly red orbs. No, those oh so gorgeous eyes look so familiar that your heart tames down in an instant. Could it really be, is it possible that it’s…him?
“Yoriichi.”
You breathe his name into the night like a prayer.
Maybe this is nothing but an illusion, a cruel trick your own brain plays on you.
“Words can’t express how sorry I am for arriving too late. I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone this long, for causing this to happen”, his oh so familiar voice blurts out.
Yoriichi’s usual so composed face twists in sheer agony, eyes filling with salty tears. All of this is his fault. He should have arrived sooner, he should have made hurry, he-
“We didn’t come this far to worry now. Please, help be delivering this child, let it all make sense”, you press out while grabbing his hand tightly.
It doesn’t matter that you’re severely injured, it doesn’t matter that your beloved husband took longer than expected to come back to you. All that matters now are you, him and your unborn child that waits to be delivered.
“Allow me to assist you.”
A foreign man suddenly speaks out with sweat dripping from his forehead in waterfalls. Just when another wave of nauseous pain hits you with full force, as if you got kicked into your stomach by a horse. You fail to breathe for a second, hands holding onto your husband for dear life.
“You are already close, it won’t be long now”, the man reassures you while gently opening your legs.
“You can do it, (y/n). After all the things you had to endure today, you will be able to get through this. With me by your side. I love you more than any words could ever say, darling.”
One more push.
One more wave of pain before your body goes numb, before you lose the ability to feel anything except for sweet nothingness.
Until a loud shriek finds its way to your ear.
A violent scream, almost frustrating. When you open your eyes again, you are greeted by a crying but alive bundle of joy, carefully wrapped into a white cloth and placed onto the arm of its father.
Those eyes.
“I prayed every night that he would have your eyes”, you whimper with tears running down your cheek uncontrollably.
You did it. You saved your beloved child who looks just like its father, you managed to somehow stay alive.
“She”, the midwife corrects you gently.
“She…”, you mumble with a small smile.
The last thing you see are the troubled maroon eyes of your husband before your world goes dark.
-the next day-
A foreign but still so familiar laughter fills the atmosphere around you with joy while you see nothing but black. When your stubborn lids finally open, you are greeted by the wooden ceiling you know so well. This is your home, without any doubt.
The home a demon invaded.
The home where you feared for your life while your husband rushed to the midwife in order to deliver your child.
Your child.
You get up way too quickly, glossy eyes darting around the room without a real aim. Is your baby okay? What happened after the delivery? All you can remember are those familiar maroon eyes that looked so much like the orbs of your beloved husband. Your husband…Where is Yoriichi?
“Don’t move too quickly, love. The doctor strictly forbids you to be in a haste”, his gentle voice speaks out next to you.
Just a few moments later, you get invited by the warmth of his arms swallowing you whole. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall against him, press your very own body into his despite the scorching pain that immediately takes over your whole self.
Right, you were attacked by a demon the night you gave birth. How did you manage to escape? Are your injuries critical.
But most important: How is your baby?
“Look what you have accomplished. A little wonder. Just like you, my love”, your husband murmurs, carefully lifting a little bundle off a blanket nearby.
Your heart nearly stops when you catch a glimpse of her. Those maroon eyes are the last thing you remember before everything goes black. With shaky hands, you start caressing her puffy cheek. This. This is what you fought for, what makes it all worth it in the end.
“She has your eyes”, you hush, tears now streaming down your face in waterfalls.
“And your hair”, Yoriichi replies with a soft smile towards you.
“(y/n), I promise I’ll do anything in my power to protect you and her from something like this. I promise I will stand by your side no matter what. And I hope that someday, you will be able to forgive me for not being there for you when you needed me the most.”
The second your husband’s voice cracks, you can’t hold onto yourself any longer. You wrap your arms around him and your daughter longingly, take in the scent who gave you strength that night.
“There is nothing to forgive and nothing to feel sorry about. You did your very best and that is all that matters. I love you, Yoriichi. And I have to thank you for saving both of us just in time.”
“You are my greatest treasure on earth”, he mumbles against your lips while giving you a passionate kiss.
What a plot twist, what a happy end after all. Yesterday you were sure your life is over, that you won’t live onto the next day. And now you’re lying in your house, holding your giggling daughter while pressing your heavy head against your husband’s broad chest.
“Well, I fear I will have to share this special place by now”, you comment while gazing at your perfect little daughter.
“This might be true, love.”
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allurilove · 2 days
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Yandere x Zombie you
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Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: He’s depressed, gore, murder, death?, he steals someone’s teeth, he tries to fuck you with his… thing, and kidnapping.
*Sorry for not posting! I had to watch TWD to finish this and omg Rick is so fineeeeee. This is pretty unedited. This is also the third fic, and you can read the first, and second for better understanding! He is referred to as “your stalker.” This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: You left him. He fell into a deep depression, not being able to function normally, and he tries to find you again. But trouble seems to follow him where ever he goes, and he has a little run in with a human.
This has been the second time you left him.
When he lifted his head back up, he saw that you were gone. He wiped his tears away and he stayed there on his knees. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there for, his knees slowly becoming numb, and sinking into the ground. He feels the weather change, how cool it becomes when it’s night, and how the birds chirp during the day. He feels the rain pelt him, he sees the grass grow, and the leaves fall down and sees the arrays of yellow and brown. His hair has become longer, a huge bush on his face, and he didn’t know how to function. He didn’t eat, didn’t move, and barely took care of himself. He ignored how his stomach would growl, or how it feels like his body would cave in itself at any moment.
He is now just a part of the sea of zombies, that would be eventually wiped out for human civilization to thrive again. He and you—would be gone. He hoped that there was a way to reverse this. His body has already gone through so much, he’s been eaten on, and generally looked like shit.
If his heart was beating, it would ache. Day and night, he doesnt move from his spot. He doesn’t acknowledge all of the wildlife checking him out, the occasional bunny or deer would sniff him, and he wouldn’t move. He was still as a statue, his eyes hollow, and his limbs were stiff. Soon enough, he flopped over and laid on his back, and stared at the stars.
He would imagine that you were still with him. That you would comment how the stars were so bright, and he would say that they couldn’t hold a candle to you. He would imagine that you two would have a little picnic— to be able to eat edible food instead of human carcass. He would imagine himself wearing his best, and that you would be in yours. That you would treat every outing with him as a date. He would imagine that you and him lived together, eventually getting married, and die old together.
If he died first, he would wish you to live your best life. And if you died first, he would join you. His best life wouldn’t come to fruition if you weren’t living. There was no point being on earth if you werent there with him.
He felt like he was stuck, his body glued to the ground, before he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He never understood the whole concept of being a zombie, he’s been one for a while, and he feels like he’s failing miserably at it. He touched the bite mark you previously left on him, he sighed as he felt the ridges of your teeth marks, and he closed his eyes.
He would stay there— imaging what his whole life would be like if you just accepted him.
It’s now been years since he has seen you. He has been walking up and down the roads, hiding from humans with guns or knives, and he tried to find you. He wished you didn’t hate him. Or that the damn city you two were in wasn’t so huge.
Your stalker learned a lot from the short time he was with you. You taught him that he didn’t have to ask humans for permission, and that he could just eat them. It was odd at first, and he had to force himself out of the habit of pointing to the human and then back at his mouth. But eventually, he started to feast. To be able to find and recognize the human scent. To be able to spread the virus person to person. He hoped that you would be proud of him.
He continued his journey north, and he found himself at the same place he was last time— when he woke up as a zombie. He first grabbed a bag that was tossed aside, covered in dirt and blood. He then started to find the essentials: razor blades, scissors, rope (to tie you up with), and combs. He then came across a CVS, picking up some magazines incase he gets bored. He hesitated as his hand went to grab some condoms. And he slowly looked down at his crotch. His thing, was officially retired ever since he cut it off and sewed it back on, and he doubts it works like a normal penis does. He dropped the condoms and pushed the door open, and he went back on the road.
He started to learn about the things that zombies do. He also learned that there weren’t many zombies that had the same capabilities like him. Most of them seemed to just run on instinct, and bite at whatever they could. So, it was hard to make any friends.
He came across a restroom at what was presumably a rest stop. He entered the bathroom, and opened his bag. He scrubbed his face clean, and brought out the razor blade. He gently pressed it onto his jaw, praying that he doesn’t nick his skin. Slowly his beard started to disappear, and he then took the scissors started to trim, and style his hair. He looked more presentable this time, and he still looked… dead. But he couldn’t fix that somehow.
He found a man that looked like he was around his size… and your stalker slowly looked down at the pants he was currently wearing. The jeans he wore were tight. And he was pretty sure he was chafing down there, and it was awkward to waddle after your victim. No one exactly took him seriously when he wore pants like these. He bends down and he inspects the dead body, his hands grazing over the full set of teeth the man had.
Dental… was pretty hard to keep up with. He began to pull and even try to bite out the man’s teeth, his hand gripped the man’s lower jaw and he snapped it off. He wanted to find a way to take his jaw off and sew the man’s onto his face, but he ended up just stealing each tooth instead. He shoved them into the slots that were missing teeth, and a couple were stubborn. Not willing to be in a strangers mouth, so he had to force them into his gums.
Your stalker felt like a new man.
It’s been a couple of years since you left him in the woods. You took the opportunity to flee without him noticing, and anyone would be foolish not to do so. You ran for your life, or as fast as your feet could carry you, and you disappeared from him forever.
You traveled up north, dragging your feet to a rest stop, and you passed a body that was missing teeth and pants. Weird.
You’re pretty hungry, your mouth filled with chunks of flesh as you tear the man’s legs apart. You barely swallow and you feel the meat slide down your gullet.
You soon find yourself at a cemetery. It felt like you cheated “death.” All of these people below you, once lived their life to the fullest and unknowingly escaping the apocalypse. While you, a undead being, had to live through it. You were respectful and mindful of where you stepped, and you read some of the tombstones. It was clear everyone here was loved, a bunch of decorations were still up, and vases surrounded each one. Despite the flowers becoming wilted overtime, you knew how much thought and care their loved ones put into it.
You notice a trail of blood on the ground, and you curiously followed it. It was odd to see that, especially in an area as pristine and untouched as the cemetery. You continue to follow it, your feet leading you up to a grave that was dug up. A huge pile of dirt on the side and the gravestone next to it. You wondered if someone crawled out of their grave.
You peer down curiously, trying to look past the clumps of dirt and blood, and you see some skin and bones poking out. A hand twitching and grabbing onto the air as if it wanted to be pulled out.
You waved a branch around above the hand. You weren’t about to sacrifice your body for this random thing. You watched as the hand paused as the branch hit it a couple of times, but then it surged up, grabbing onto the branch. You almost fall into the pit, but your feet plant you onto the ground. You pull and pull, and you see a head stick out.
Your stalker coughed as he was pulled out of his tortuous doom. His eyes immediately land onto yours. They seem to widen, and fill with tears immediately. His top half of his body was now out of the ground, and he wiggled around to hug you. You quickly maneuver your body out of the way, and he hugged a pile of dirt instead. His face nuzzling against nature, his lips puckering into a kiss, and he pulled back as his tongue tasted a worm.
Your stalker whined for you. He threw a little tantrum and all of his frustrations were voiced into little “ooh-“ or “ungh” or “mggggh.” He just wished you could understand him! He’s gone through hell and back just to find you.
Your stalker was so hungry that he used his nose to find a scent of a human, his feet leading him to the cemetery. All until he fell into a pit, dirt falling on top of him and he felt suffocated.
You gape at him, almost impressed by how he seems to pull his whole body up with a wiggle. All of the wind is knocked out of you as he pushed himself on top of you. He seemed to be grateful, his lips pressing kisses on your neck, and his hands hold your hips close to his. If he could speak correctly it would all be praises and compliments.
He then began to gesture at his crotch.
You immediately shook your head to say no, and he pouted. He pointed again. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and still said no. He then gestured at your crotch with a sheepish smile, a tiny peek of his pink tongue sticking out.
It took everything within you to not shove him down the pit.
He pulled his pants down, right below his ass, and he shimmed his cock out. It was floppy, not hard and couldn’t get hard since his blood couldn’t flow into it. He bit his lip as he tried to undo the pink stitches.
You haven’t gotten… laid in a while, and there was a man offering himself right in front of you. He pulled at the stitches, undoing the pink thread and his cock hangs off his body. He leans down, using his new teeth to cut it off.
When he got it off, he frowned as his cock was just limp in his hand. He then got an idea. He rammed the branch into his manhood, and he finally got it to stand proud. It sort of looked like a hotdog on a stick. But now he was able to control and maneuver his dick inside you.
He first wanted to see it in your mouth, and to see your cute lips wrapped around his pulsing tip. But you know, this will work for now. He got you to part your lips, his dick prodding its way into your throat.
God it tasted disgusting.
He held your face with one hand, the other pushing his cock in and out of your throat. Your saliva coating it all.
You pulled down your pants, spreading a bit of your legs apart, and you tensed up as he aligned his tip to your entrance. You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the mangled cock press inside you.
Your stalker been wanting to be with you, and he can’t help but be a bit jealous of the makeshift dildo he made. But he watched with interest, his face close as the dick slides out of you, and his tongue flicked your hole to help with lubrication.
Sure, he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you and mark you as his, but the faces you make as his dick stretched you out so nicely… Fuck. He watched your toes curl, your back arching off the ground, and just to see your legs shake was enough for him.
He pressed kisses on your stomach, his face nuzzling into your body as he moved his hand to pump his cock faster into you.
He would tell you to cum, he would tell you how great you look, and how he would love to eat you out more. But his voice is just soft grunts. As you closed your eyes, the arousal building in your stomach— his hand grabbing his rope from his bag. He pulled the cock out of you, tossing it to the side and he forced you into your stomach. He quickly wrapped your thighs together, your hands, and he took off his shirt to gag you.
You wouldn’t be able to run away from him, you won’t be able to scream, and he smiles hard.
Allure: Not proud of this one. tysm for 870+ followers!!! 🫶🏻 It always makes me nervous to see my account growing, and the fact that many people want to see my writing 😬
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imaginaryf1shots · 2 hours
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Failed | Lando Norris
WC: 900+
Lando x reader
Summery: Failing your driver license test leaves you in tears, but Lando is here to comfort you.
A.N: Could've been much longer, but I've been writing long fics a lot lately. Also, this is for me and for everyone that failed their test(but I'm a crier okay, so you bet your butt i cried when the examiner told me ill be seeing you another time)
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You trudge up the steps and unlock the door to the house you share with your boyfriend while you’re in England, feeling dejected and just about holding your tears in. Why was it so important to you that you got it? You wouldn’t be using it a lot anyway, so why bother. You just wanted to pass. You hate failing, even if a lot of people fail as well, you hate it.
Opening the door, you hear your boyfriend on the phone, you close the front door a bit too hard, and you wince, you didn’t mean to slam it shut. You hear the talking stop and footsteps coming your way, Land’s head pops around the corner. He still has his phone pressed to his ear, and he’s smiling. But that smile drops once he sees your face, you’re fighting your lips as they want to stay turned down, and you want to act unbothered, but you are failing miserably.
”Max, I’ll call you later, mate.” Lando ends the call before Max F. could say anything. He walks up to you and opens his arms. Before he can even reach you, tears are already escaping your eyes. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen?”
You shake your head now, burying your face into Lando’s shoulder. Lando runs his hand up and down your back. His mind goes over everything that could’ve happened that would’ve caused you to be upset.
”Was it the test?” He asks, and you nod. He sighs and kisses your head. “It’s alright, love, you can take it again.”
”I-I don’t want to.” You mutter and Lando squeezes you harder. 
“Then don’t, you don’t have to.” Lando manages to pull back enough to see your face. He gives you one of his comforting and loving smiles. He quickly kisses your forehead and takes your hands in his. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
You follow him to the sofa, he sits down and pats the spot next to him, you sit sideways so your legs are over his, and you’re slotted into his side. 
“Oh, my poor baby.” Lando couldn’t help but feel bad for you. You looked so small cuddled up to him as you tried to find comfort in him. “It’s alright, love, you were just so nervous, you couldn’t sleep well anyway.”
”You knew?” You asked sniffing and looked up at him.
”Yeah, you were turning and shuffling most of the night.” You had no idea he felt you move. You thought he was sleeping.
”I’m sorry.” You mumble and your lips start to tremble again and Lando panics, he holds you close and gently sways you from right to left. 
“No, no it’s okay. I keep you up a lot of the time, and I’d be playing or watching a match or something.” Lando didn’t mean to make you feel guilty, and in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t be this upset about it, but your emotions were running wide right now. “y/n, you never even wanted to get a licence. Why are you suddenly wanting it, you’re so upset about something you told me was just for fun.”
”It’s because you're a driver, and I always have to get you to. drive me everywhere, or I have to Uber, and what kind of girlfriend am I if I don’t know how to drive a basic car when you drive supercars for a living.” You admit and refuse to look at him, finding a loose string on his shirt far more interesting.
”y/n, look at me.” You refuse to do that. “Please.” You sigh and look at your boyfriend. “I love driving you around, you’re my passenger princess, and we spend quality time together whenever I drive you somewhere, besides didn’t we agree to stop reading the few bad comments online.”
”I didn-“
”Don’t lie.” Lando cuts you off with a knowing look. You bite your lip and sigh. “You as a girlfriend, are letting me do something I love, but giving me the honour of driving you around, and I wouldn’t let you drive while I’m around anyways.”
”I don’t think I tell you I love you enough.” Lando’s face lights up, his eyes sparkling in a way they only do when you say the magic words.
”Well, I love you too.” Lando says before he leans down and places a few small kisses on your lips, he’s smiling too much to do more than that. “You know, I think if you don’t pressure yourself, you’ll do well if you want to give it another go.”
”Would you help me practise?” You ask, giving him puppy eyes that you didn’t need to give for him to agree.
”Of course.” You hug Lando while you’re both sitting down, and you for a while you just stay wrapped up in each other’s arms, as the last of the sadness ebbs away. “Max wanted to meet us today. Are you up for it?”
”Is P going to be there, because I don’t want to third wheel you and your boyfriend.” You asked teasing Lando, you and P have this running joke that they’re dating, and you’re just always crashing their dates.
”Haha, very funny.” Lando pinches your side, making you squirm away from him with a squeal. “Weren't you just saying you love me?”
”I was, I was, but I’m no match to Max.” You say and jump off the sofa as Lando tries to get a hold of you. He may be fast in a car, but you’re faster than him, so you run giggling through the house with him chasing after you. All thoughts of the failed test are out the window. 
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3
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mrm0rgansw0man · 3 days
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no grave can hold my body down, ill crawl home to her
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summary:
arthur morgan knew he was the type of man that shouldn’t risk falling in love, but jesus she just made it so hard NOT to
a/n: first fic!! inspired by work song by hozier lol. hope y’all enjoy it Xx 💗
re-uploading this fic on my new account because im planning on making a second part of it! should be out soon :) Xx
‘Arthur Morgan, you fool’ He thought to himself, mentally swearing for catching himself staring at their camps newest member yet again. But he just couldn’t help it. He knew he shouldn’t indulge in this. It was stupid really, any attempt at love in the past had failed him. All because of this life he chose to live. One that wasn’t easy to leave behind. Though Arthur knew, if you asked him to he’d throw it all away. God this man would do anything for you, he practically worshiped the ground you walked on. He didn’t know why he was so captivated by you, maybe it was your honey sweet voice, or the kindness you showed him right from your first day of knowing him. He couldn’t stop himself from loving every little thing about you, to him you were perfect. A goddamned goddess. He thought you deserved someone better than him. A woman such as yourself deserved to live a good life, one where the law isn’t out to get you. One where people could be out to hurt you because of your husband’s line of work. You deserved to feel safe and secure in your life. Nothing like the chaos you were living through now.
Little did Arthur know, you were feeling the exact same way about him. You had deep feelings for Arthur Morgan, you were as sweet like sugar on that man. You loved everything about him, but most of all how he treated you. He made 100% sure you felt safe and were taken care of all the time. You were one of the first people he’d check up on when returning from a job. Or you mentioned something you needed and the next day he would just so happen to need to run to town and what do you know, the exact scarf, seasoning, hair ribbon, you name it would be included in his haul. And if he was around at meal times, he would not so subtly make sure you got your portion. All of this and yet, he rarely said a word to you. It confused you to no end, it felt like he cared about you deeply but he rarely paid any attention to you. You were a lost soul before you started riding with the Van Der Lindes, and because of the Blackwater situation it was hard for the gang to let in a new mouth to feed. But ever since the beginning Arthur made you feel so welcomed. You don’t know what you did do deserve his kindness but it was deeply appreciated. Mary-Beth was CONVINCED Arthur was sweet on you, so we’re Tilly, Molly, Abigail, Karen, goodness even Susan Grimahaw herself made a comment about it you once. You wanted to believe it so badly, but he didn’t talk to you!! He could just be a kind man of little words and you’re reading into the situation all wrong.
‘Oh well…’ You thought with a sigh, flicking your eyes up from the needle work you had long been neglecting because of your thinking. To your surprise, you found a pair of beautiful blue eyes already looking in your direction…
~~~~~~~
“Shit!” Arthur swore under his breath, god dammit you were still as a staute for ages before this why’d you have to look up now?? Arthur begrudgingly tore my eyes away from t and started walking to his horse- where he was supposed to be already. Hosea wanted to take him into town for some reason he had yet to say.
“Arthur!” Hosea said warmly. He then raised an eyebrow. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here?”
‘Oh I this is NOT goin’ there.’ Arthur thought.
“Course not.” He said flatly. Hosea smiled a knowing smile, before long they mounted thier horses and were off.
The ride to Valentine was thankfully silent and quick. But Arthur knew that was going to change as soon as Hosea informed him that he was taking Arthur to the saloon to “Chat over a drink” With such a grin on his face that Arthur knew he was nothing short of doomed.
After getting situated at the bar with a neat whiskey and a beer, Hosea start talking to Arthur, though it felt more like he was speaking AT at him. Making little remarks about love and what it does for people. Sharing little stories of “the joys of marriage.” …..very sneaky, Hosea.
“Hosea…. Please get to whatever point it is yer tryin’ to make here.” Arthur said, cutting into his rambling.
“Arthur….” He cooed, sounding like he was talking to some schoolyard boy. “I’ve been watching you pine over (Name) for MONTHS.”
Arthur said nothing. Nothing but a silent prayer that his cheeks weren’t burning a fiery shade of red.
“I know you’re sweet on her, it’s as obvious as a wolf standing in a pack of sheep!”
Arthur ran a hand over my face and let out a tired sigh. Hosea sipped his beer, waiting for him to respond.
“What ‘m I supposed’t say?” Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms over my chest. ‘God, what a pathetic fool I am.’ Arthur thought. “Not like she’d want an ugly bastard like me ‘nyway.”
“On the contrary! Hosea chuckles. “I was walking by the women’s tent last nigh- couldn’t sleep. Wanted to walk a bit to clear my head- and my boy you should’ve heard the things (Name) was saying about you!”
At that, Arthur sat up a little straighter. “What things…?” He asked, slightly wearily. Hosea smiled.
“Son, she’s fallen for you head first! If only you’d start speaking more then 2 words a week to her! You do so much for that girl Arthur, would it be so hard to do that too?”
He didn’t say anything. Learning that, by some fucking MIRACLE- the woman of his dreams has fallen for him was making his head spin. Could this really be happening?? Could this work?? A stab of pain shot through him as he remembered Mary, and how things ended with her. But this could be different, after all you were with the gang. You didn’t care about his life, you loved him despite it all…Arthur hadn’t dared let himself think that a love with you could possibly work out. The thought made him giddy. He felt dumb as rocks, feeling so strongly for you without ever saying a damn word to you. But he couldn’t let himself get to know you- he couldn’t bare to hear your silky voice say his name more then you already do. With such kindness, such love.He wanted to talk to you, to love you, to cherish you and worship you like you deserved to be, but-
“Hosea, I’m afraid.” Arthur said quietly. “Look at ‘er, I can’t drag this woman down the path I’m on. She doesn’t deserve a man like me.”
Hosea pushed Arthur’s untouched whiskey towards him, Arthur took the glass and downed it all in one go. He listened to Hosea’a next words at the fiery liquid settled in his stomach.
“Are you going to risk making that decision for her?”
~~~~~~~
You sat on the cold ground in front of the dying out campfire, grateful that everyone had fallen into their cots for the night. You loved the solitude of nighttime. It was so nice to be by yourself, enjoying the quiet peace of the stars above you.
Before long, your thoughts (as they always did) turned to Arthur Morgan. Hosea has returned to camp hours ago, telling you that Arthur should be back shortly. It’s been hours and still no sign of him. You knew it was normal, but you couldn’t help but worry while he was out of camp. Which was stupid really, you weren’t his girl. Just because he was kind didn’t mean you had to get your knickers all on a twist over him.
‘Damn your mysterious-ness Arthur Morgan….’
You only know you dozed off when the familiar sound of a horse whining woke you up. And then an even more familiar voice soothing the distressed animal.
“Easy girl…. Y’know I can’t spend all my time with ya’ don’t you?”
You stretched your arms out and listened to the sweet interaction. Despite him being the gang’s toughest enforcer, a wanted dead or alive outlaw, Arthur truly was a sweetheart. He treated all the women of the camp with the utmost respect and was such a help to any soul in need of. If only he knew how badly you needed him.
You from your spot on the ground, drawing the outlaws attention. He approached with a small smile.
“Glad it was jus’ you..” Arthur said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. You on the other hand were absolutely over the MOON at the fact that Arthur had finally decided to talk to you.
“Oh I hope you’re not too disappointed Mr. Morgan!” You said with a light chuckle. Arthur, not sensing your sarcasm through his nerves, panicked.
“N-no! Not at all, ma’am! I apologize if I came off that way-”
“I’m just teasing ya’ Arthur. It’s quite alright.” You said and smiled. A smile so sweet and bright Arthur could’ve melted on the spot. Your sweet smile, the way his name rolled off your lips. Arthur wasn’t a religious man, but he might as well have been in heaven.
“(Name)….” Arthur said, his sweet southern drawl when he said your name making you blush. “I’d like to apologize. For how I’ve been treatin’ you.”
“Oh Arthur! You’ve been nothin’ but kind to me since I’ve been here- whatever are you sorry for?” You asked him, genuinely shocked at the man’s statement. Were you talking to the same Arthur who took care of your horse for you, bought you ribbons to put in your hair, and watched over you like a protective hawk? Sure he didn’t speak to you much, but you knew he was a man of few words. Even if it hurt sometimes, could live with it. You didn’t need him to love you back for you to love him all the same. You’d almost accepted it. Almost.
Arthur sighed a deep and nervous sigh, his thoughts blurring and the several whiskeys he had in him were NOT helping. Not a bit.
“You see- well it’s, it’s just-” Arthur stammered- god he was making a complete FOOL of himself!
You stepped closer to Arthur, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. You looked up at him nervously. The two of you had never been close as this. Arthur looked down at you, you had concern laced in your eyes. Concern for him. Your long hair was falling out of its messy braid, the loose strands framing your face beautifully. He could see the nights starts reflected in your eyes.
‘How beautiful..’ Arthur thought. He was completely captivated by you. ‘How could a woman like this be allowed to roam the same earth as someone like me..?’
Without even realizing what he was doing, Arthur pulled you flush against his chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other reaching up to cup your chin. His touch was feather light as he stroked his thumb over your face.
“I ain’t never felt like this before Miss…” Arthur mumbled, leaning his forehead down to touch your. He didn’t have time to wonder (or thank) whatever divine force gave him to courage to do this. “You got me makin’ a fool outta myself…”
You let out a soft gasp at the a sudden touch from Arthur. You had only ever been like this in your sweetest dreams, was this really happening??
“Arthur…?” You whispered, questioning him. “Wha…What ‘re you d-”
That’s it. He couldn’t take it anymore. To hell with the risks, the past to hell with it all! He had come to love you more than life itself. You were exactly what he needed in his painful and cruel life.
You were such a loving soul, treating everyone and everything around you so kindly it was heartwarming. You give and give and GIVE to everyone around you. You never judged anyone around you for their actions- past or present. You picked up chores from the other women when they needed a break. You sung little Jack to sleep when Abigail was too exhausted to lift her head from her cot. You put braided flowers into your beautiful long hair whenever you had a moment to yourself. You smiled at him every morning when you left your tent to begin your day. You always kept the pink silk scarf he picked up for you and left in your tent with a note in the pocket of your skirt. You picked at nails and hummed when you were nervous. You loved staying up late, gazing at the stars and admiring the universe. He had pages upon pages of you doing exactly that sketched in his journal.
You were heaven sent. You were perfect. The world didn’t fucking deserve you.
Arthur slammed his lips down onto yours without wasting another moment. And he shuddered at the feelings of your lips finally being against his own. You kissed him back just has hard, standing on your tip toes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. You felt his tongue slide against his bottom lip, and wasted not a moment opening your mouth to let him in.
Months of longing, tension, were fought out as your tongues pushed against each other. Of course Arthur won, you could barely contain the moan that was building in the back of your throat when you felt his tongue exploring your mouth like a starving man. If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly, you would’ve fallen over. The sheer want and desperation of the kiss made your knees go completely weak.
Unfortunately, you both needed air and had to pull away. Arthur rested his forehead against your own. The both of you stood there, panting with closed eyes. Neither wanting the moment to end.
When you eventually opened your eyes, you looked up at Arthur. And couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your face. Arthur wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist, and he smiled sweetly back at you. You both stood there for a moment, swaying gently back and forth as you embraced each other. The silence that fell between you both was comfortable and welcome as you gazed into each others eyes, both sharing the same look of love and adoration.
Arthur was the one who finally broke the silence between the two of you, and you will never forget his next words.
“Please darlin’” He whispered. “I’m beggin’ you… I want you to be my girl. I’m sorry I was a fool for such a long time-”
You leaned up on your tip toes and silenced him with a gentle kiss.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way, Mr. Morgan.”
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mattybsturns · 20 hours
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𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽 ❥ 𝓝𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓓.
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pairing ➝ nate doe x sls!reader
✎ authors note ➝ heres this since i scrapped that chris fic🙏����😭 ALSO this is not my original idea i got it from one of thise scenario accs on tiktok and wanted too make it into a nate fic🙈 so credit to @/pompomzduhz
summary ➝ when trying to go to a party so you could be away from your brothers group of friends that had come over, one friend stops you from going.
× warnings ➝ smut, p in v!, unprotected sex!!(reader on bc), grammar errors!!!, slight praising(not very much) tell me if i missed anything
NOT FULLY PROOF READ!
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It was a regular Friday at your house, your two older brothers Matt and Chris had their friends over. Just like every other Friday.
This time you were able to get away from them, all their yelling, laughing, just what guys do when they’re together. Sometimes they’d stay up late causing a bunch of noise, which didn’t help you sleep at all.
Obviously you couldn’t tell your brothers you hated when their friends were over so when you had an opportunity to get out of the house. You took it.
You were invited to a party that was happening tonight. You had chosen a skin tight black dress, which made your ass pop. Which is why you loved it. Although it was a bit revealing in the chest area but you didn’t really mind.
You heard a bunch of guys voices from downstairs, telling you that your brothers friends were already here. You didn’t mind them coming over sometimes. It’s just that they could go over the top.
But they were also really cute so it made it tolerable for when they would all come over. But one of them really stood out to you.
Nate. He was the calmest, kindest and the hottest out of all of them. He was also the friend your brothers were closest too.
You snap your self out of your thoughts and grab your black lace jacket and mini purse and head downstairs.
You walk passed everyone in the living room, all of your brothers friends watch as you walk out the house.
“When did your sister get hot?” A friend of your brothers say, “seriously, dude?” Matt says with a disgusted look on his face.
“I think I forgot something at home, I’ll be right back!” Another friend of your brothers say before leaving.
As you’re walking over to your car, looking through your purse for your keys you bump into someone.
You look away from your purse, meeting your eyes with Nates. He was staring you up and down, a smirk slowly appearing on his face.
“Can I help you?” You ask, “yeah, tell me where you're going.” He answers, “I’m going to a party, why?” You reply.
“You know what’s more fun than going to a party?” He asked, “what?” You reply, he leaned down to your height. “going back to my place,” he whispered against your ear.
You pause for a moment, “and why would I go there?” you say. “Because, I don’t need other guys looking at whats mine.” He whispered again, his lips slightly grazing your earlobe. His touch had made you shiver at the slightest things.
You could’ve said no, but the small fixation you had on him was growing, quickly and you just couldn’t resist.
You smile before walking over to his car. His eyes widen slightly, he wouldn’t have never thought that would work.
You turn over to the boy, “you coming or what?” You question, the boy quickly makes his way over to his car.
࣪˖ ୨୧ . ֺ
Your hands were tangled in Nates hair, your tongues exploring each others mouth. Both of you not letting go as you made your way to his bedroom.
His hands roam around your body, and you tug at his shirt, wanting him to take it off. He gets the hint and quickly takes it off.
He unzips your dress not long after, leaving you in a lace set, you had been wearing under.
His jaw drops slightly at the sight, “who were you planning to fuck?” He teased, “do you wanna talk about that now? or do you wanna fuck me?” You say, “I wanna fuck you.” He smiled slightly before diving in to kiss you again.
You both lay yourselves onto his bed, him still towering over you. He trails kisses down your next to your chest, leaving marks as he made his way.
He pulled the lacey bra down, flicking his tongue on your nipple, “mhm.” you sigh. His other hand makes its way to your throbbing clit.
He suddenly presses against it making you to hum from the sudden pressure. His finger movements grow faster, as he's practically sucking your tit off.
Nate had the same fixation you had about him. He always was able to control himself, till he saw you in that dress.
The way it hugged your ass, it killed him on the spot. He knew you had this feeling as well. But you being his best friends little sister was one of the reasons why he never acted on it.
Suddenly, his hands were on his belt, unbuckling it. You took your panties off as he took his off.
His dick sprang out, hitting his lower abdomen, he was big. You were sure it wasn’t gonna fit.
He spat on his hand before stroking his dick a few times. He aligned himself with your entrance and slammed himself against you. Not even giving you time to adjust before he started thrusting into you.
A pornographic moan had left your mouth, “y-you’re too big.” You could barely get out, he chuckled at your comment. “You can take it, I know you can.” He said in a low tone.
His thrusts going at a brutal speed, he was already hitting your g-spot. Making you a moaning mess.
Your back arching for more, his groans syncing with yours. You’re legs already starting to shake uncontrollably.
His thrusts were getting sloppier, and that familiar knot in your stomach was forming.
Nate was still hitting your g-spot repeatedly, you felt the knot in your stomach was gonna break soon. “ 'M gonna!” you were cut off by the knot in your stomach suddenly snapping, and you spilling your seed all over Nate's dick. He follows not too long after you.
He collapses on the side next to you, you both panting heavily. Trying to catch your guys’s breath, “y/n?” Nate looks over to you, you look back. “Yeah?” You reply, “Your brothers must never know.” He says.
You look away from him and to the ceiling, fuck. Your brothers. “never.” you state.
If they ever found out, both you and Nate would be dead, Nate more than you.
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hii i hope you guys like this😭 anyways im in my nate era so if i get motivation again like this imma def write a bunch of nate fics
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