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mariasont · 1 day

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Talking to a Brick Wall - A.H

a/n: rip erin strauss you would've hated this fic

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader

summary: in which you overhear your boyfriend aaron's phone call

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, self-doubt, happy ending but also a terrible ending bc i SUCK at endings xoxo

wc: 2.3k

You had called out your boyfriend's name multiple times as you wandered into his house. He had asked you a while ago if you wanted to come over for a movie night tonight and hell would have to freeze over before you ever declined that offer. However, upon arrival, you were greeted by silence; no response to the doorbell, his phone, or your voice. Thankfully, the key he'd given you last year jingled in your pocket as you let yourself in.

You had a pretty strong suspicion he'd be in his office--after all, this was Aaron Hotchner, a man who definitely did not believe in leaving work at the office.

And sure enough, his voice filtered through the slightly ajar door, the rich hue of his mahogany desk framing the gap. You were about to move towards the living room, assuming he was on a work call of some sorts, but his words stopped you dead in your tracks.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm speaking, but the understanding isn't there. You know what I mean? It's like the concepts just float in one ear and out the other."

You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together, as your hand found the wall, leaning towards the door. He couldn't have been talking about you, right?

"I try to share details, to get her involved, but it's met with this vacant nod. As if the depth of it all just doesn't register."

Oh. Her. You tried to fan away the wetness that threatened to fall down your cheeks, each rapid motion a desperate attempt to convince yourself you were imagining things.

"And I'm patient, I really am. But when you're met with that blank look, it's... disheartening. You start to wonder if it's worth explaining at all. It's like talking to a wall."

Okay, that stung. It was like an immediate punch to the gut, your heart seeming to drop into the pit of your stomach. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to rationalize his words, but nothing was really making sense right now.

The internal battle was a cruel one: stay and endure the sharp sting of his words or leave and miss more of what he had to say. The latter won, pulling you away from the door.

You knew you were never going to be the smartest person in the room, and in the past, it was a source of deep-seated insecurity, always a silent specter in the corners of your mind. But then you met Aaron. And he made everything just better. His own intelligence and impressive job never became a yardstick for your worth; he ensured you knew you were more than enough, just as you were.

He had always been the voice reminding you that you were smart in your own right, telling you that your worth transcended any numerical measure of intelligence like a stupid IQ score. But now you were questioning everything.

Anger seemed like the appropriate response, right? But it was hard to be when his words carried a weight of truth to them.

You did have a hard time keeping up when he talked about the complexities of his cases, sometimes feeling like an outsider looking in. But, even if you didn't understand, his passion for what he did was infectious, and you hung on to every word when he explained all the ways his smart brain was able to deduce things about people.

Still, a part of you imagined it was hard for him, that it probably got old fast when you weren't able to hold an intelligent conversation.

Your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and it somehow took you only ten minutes to get home when it should've taken you twenty.

It was only when you had taken a shower, put on your favorite pair of pink sweats, brought out some Ben and Jerry's, and turned on Legally Blonde, did you check your phone.

Hi honey. What time are you coming over?

You tried to ignore the sensation of an invisible band drawing tighter across your chest.

so sorry, not feeling good. rain check? xoxo

You hated lying to him. Hated lying in general, save for the occasional white lie to protect someone's feelings. The fact that you weren't lying to his face was a small mercy, because obviously he'd be able to see right through you.

Do you want me to come there? I can bring food.

You wanted to be with him, you really did, you had been counting down the days to this movie night all week. But the thought of sitting beside him, wanting to ask about his day, about his work, now seemed like an intrusion. Knowing that your well-intentioned questions might be a chore for him or a source of frustration. The realization pressed down on you, a heavy weight that threatened to snuff your light.

no that's okie! thank you though <3 i don't want to get you sick!

Your phone was ringing, his name lighting up the screen for a FaceTime call, it felt like a betrayal of your own making. It was a skill you had recently taught him (which took forever), and of course now he was using it. Your finger jabbed at the red button, your cheeks turning the same color.

i look & sound disgustinggg rn

I know for a fact that's incorrect. You have a magical talent of looking incredible no matter what.

I want to see your pretty face.

you can be so flattering when u want to mister!

im going to take some medicine & then ill call u l8, k?

Hmm, okay.

love u! xoxo

I love you too, pretty girl.

You hated this. Your eyes were puffy, swollen and wet as you discarded the phone onto the nightstand. He deserved someone who wasn't so pathetic.

You wallowed in self-pity all night, and then all day, and then all week. You went through the motions--getting up, going to work, and then making up some lame excuse when Aaron asked to see you. Name it, and you had probably said it. In reality, you had been holed up in your room, trading glossy magazine pages for confusing behavioral books.

The subject matter was as dull as dishwater, making paint-watching seem thrilling. But you were committed to bringing some depth to your next conversation with him.

Today's excuse had been some half-truths about being buried in work--which in hindsight seemed comical, given you worked at a bakery and there wasn't much that could take up your time outside of contract hours.

You were splayed across the couch in an upside-down sprawl as you attempted to focus on the scholarly gibberish that filled the pages. 'Homology,' 'dichotomy,' and 'typology' melded into a migraine-inducing blur, tempting you to slam the book shut. You were fighting every urge to throw it out the window and paint your nails with that new glittery polish you've been dying to try.

At the insistent knock, you clapped the book shut (thank god) and stood, brows knitting, as you navigated to the door with a soft scuffle of slippers on polished wood.

Flinging it open, you halted, breath caught. "Aaron? Oh, hi, what are you doing here?"

The words sprang forth before you could catch them, your hands scrambling up to smooth the evidence of your couch-induced disarray.

He fixes you a pointed stare as he steps into your apartment, invitation be damned you guess. "I find myself repeating this, yet it seems necessary--peephole first, then the door, sweetheart."

You clamp your teeth onto your lip with such force, you're convinced you've tasted blood. "Oh, right, sorry... I should've remembered."

A flicker of foolishness and a heavy dose of self-consciousness threaten to surface. However, you quickly subdue them, tucking them away as you wrapped your arms around your body, offering him a small smile. Despite everything, your heart leaps at the sight of him. You missed him.

His face softens, his touch soft as he tilts your chin upward. "Look at me. It's fine. I just want to make sure my best girl is safe, that's all."

The temptation to simply crumble there and then, to forget everything and cocoon yourself in his arms, was overwhelming.

You leaned into his hand without thinking, which now claimed the entire area of your cheek. He was always so warm.

You watch as Aaron glances around the room, no doubt noting the absence of work-related clutter. "Still working?"

"Oh, I was, I told my boss I'd help with inventory reports." That part wasn't totally a lie, but it still made your conscience squirm with guilt.

"Do you want help?"

The proposal touches a raw nerve, sparking a defensive reflex. Did he think you were incapable?

"Thanks, but I'm actually all done with them," you lie, your a smile a little too rigid as you head into the living room.

You're keenly aware of his approaching footsteps as you hastily stash that stupid book under a magazine, silently praying he didn't notice. You settle onto the couch, and he joins you, casually drawing your legs over his lap as you recline against the cushions.

"How was your day?"

You wince internally at the automatic question.

"Not too bad," He replies with an easy shrug, his fingers sneaking under your sweats at the ankles, tracing lazy circles on your calves. "We wrapped up some paperwork, had a couple of briefings, and oh, we were introduced to our new consultant today. She specializes in crypto linguistics--really fascinating stuff."

Your eyes flutter briefly, a constriction forming in your throat, a twist in your gut. The mere mention of the consultant being a she amplifies your feelings of insufficiency. It leaves you wondering, why would Aaron ever be interested in someone like you?

"Crypto linguistics?" you repeat, trying to sound curious rather than lost.

He leans in closer to you. "It's a specialized area of linguistics focused on decoding encrypted languages."

You offer a nod, managing a convincing "Yeah, of course," even as your eyes unwittingly drift away from his unwavering stare, betraying a hint of your confusion.

Aaron's hand cradles your head, his fingers sifting through your hair. "Hey," he murmurs, drawing your attention back, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Your chin touches your chest as you mumble, barely audible, "hardly anything."

Aaron's expression turns to a frown, his broad hands guiding your ass and thighs as he positions you atop his lap, face-to-face, leaving you exposed with no place to hide. Your name escapes him with a sigh. "I don't believe that for a second."

You match his frown with your own pout, nestling your face into his neck, concealing the rosy hue that has claimed your cheeks. "Just a rough week is all."

"Is that so?" His voice was a gentle murmur, his hands soothingly moving in gentle sweeps across your back as you breathed out unsteadily. "Funny, that's been my week too. My gorgeous girlfriend seems to have been avoiding me all week."

"Have not," you mumble, your breath warm against his skin, fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He hummed. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong."

"It's silly."

He guided your face back to his, eyes searching yours. "Listen to me. No, it's not. I don't like when you try to diminish your feelings. Talk to me, honey."

That was your tipping point. A wobble in your lip betrays the onset of tears as your voice breaks.

"I just--I know I'm not as smart as the people you work with or even your past girlfriends. I know I don't get things right away especially when you talk about work, and I see how everyone else is so quick, and I'm here, always a few steps behind. I know that it must be frustrating for you, and I'm scared that one day, you'll get tired of explaining, and your patience will run out, and well, you'll see... you'll see that--"

"Baby, whoa, slow down," Aaron urges, his palms tenderly framing your face, a frown plastered over his face. Your heart hammers against your chest, its rapid beats almost audible, as if it might jump from your body. "Take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You draw in a breath.

His thumb delicately erases the tears that have made their way down your cheek.

"When there is something about my work you don't understand, I will gladly go over it as many times as you need. I don't expect you to know everything about that stuff, why would you? That's not why I'm with you. I'm with you because of your incredibly kind heart and the way you see the best in people. I love you because you are you. What is making you think this way, honey? It's breaking my heart."

"I overheard you Aaron," you said, "saying that sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall when you talk to me."

"What?" he questioned, but his confusion was quickly morphed into concern. "Oh, sweetheart, no. I was talking about Strauss and her lack of understanding of our fieldwork."

"Oh."

"I would never speak about you like that, you know that, right? And if, in some alternate universe, I did, you need to break up with me, or better yet, set me straight." His hands stayed firmly on your face. "You should never tolerate that from me or anyone else, understood?"

You bit down on your lip, hands resting on his shoulders as you nodded. "Yes, sir."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, sending fireworks to every inch of you as he mumbled against your mouth, "that's my girl."

taglist: @hotchhner

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #Spotify

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tofixtheshadows · 15 hours

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I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

#Dungeon Meshi #Delicious in Dungeon #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #Laios Touden #Dungeon Meshi meta #you can have him in the tags too. as a treat.#Dungeon Meshi spoilers #this was directly inspired by livelaughlaios's post about Kabru self harming but I decided it got too long to make it a direct reply #this is a theory I've been working on for weeks because I kept noticing this while skimming for screencaps #I'm hesitant to trigger tag this because of the way certain subcultures on tumblr operate #but if anyone needs me to add a content warning please let me know #also I included image descriptions! I did my best #I think they even help illustrate my points but my god were they sad to write. Kabru is so fucking sad you guys #musings with Dea

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yuri-is-online · 6 hours

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One Sided Love Triangles: Twisted Wonderland

Because I really hate it when someone has to lose. Anyway idk I thought these would be funny:

Jade vs Malleus- partially inspired by Private Thoughts of a Moray of course but also just like. The randomness of it. Jade has nothing against Malleus before he starts liking you at all, he's just a very powerful person who he would like to get close to so he can help him out. But now? Oooooh he hates him he hates him he hates him. He's the literal worst for getting to be close to you when no one else is close to him and Jade has yet to dance across the line of suspicion that's keeping you from living happily ever after. Malleus thinks Jade's courtship efforts are deeply fascinating, probably asks Lilia if ritual self humiliation is part of the process, and gets a very disappointed look sent his way. He's rooting for Jade because someone has to take care of you when he's not around and an eel isn't a bad choice.

Floyd vs Ace- crabby is little shrimpy's best friend and that makes him moody. Floyd wants to be happy when Yuu come in to basketball practice with his water bottle, but the only reason you brought it was because you found it on your way to drop something off for Ace. Damn this is the pits, why can't all of your attention just be on him for once? Seven he wants it so bad he floats through practice like a jellyfish because of how dispondant he is. Meanwhile Ace thinks your crush on Floyd is super gross but he's not going to judge. To the point Yuu starts to worry they're being set up for failure when encouraged to confess.

Trey vs Rook- you would think that Trey knows better than to assume Rook is in love with everyone he compliments but there's just something about watching you two interact he doesn't like. He tries to rationalize it by assuming it's because he likes you, and he wants to be capable of fligrting with you but he's not like this when Cater makes joking passes or when random mob students actually do. Rook decides he finds this funny and determines to play into it so he can goad a confession out of Trey. Love is truly beautiful ♡

Ace vs anyone who can breathe- he's delusional. He loves Yuu so much the idea that some people aren't interested in the same way he is just doesn't enter his mind. Might have something to do with how much he's denying his feelings that he's constantly assuming the worst but when Cater tries to tell him that he doesn't make it super far into Ace's skull...

I've got more but I need to sleep...

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #i also have a version of this for tdb but meh #eepy time #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #trey clover x reader #ace trappola x reader

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therainywriter · 3 days

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Na-Baron (Suggestive)

Pairing: Feyd Rautha x Reader

So sweet and polite, you didn’t belong in a place like this.

Everyone around you was a scum, a lying piece of filth that would only use that innocence to their own benefit.

You knew this, you weren’t ignorant, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to treat them as they did you, as low as it made you feel.

Fear kept you quiet and respectful as well. All it took was one slip up, and no matter how little you’d be begging for your life.

You’re the newest addition to the Harkonnen’s house, a servant for the Na-Baron, Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. They never enlightened you on what happened to the previous chambermaid, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

Some things were best kept unheard of, especially in this treacherous place.

You kept your head down, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the perfect women around you. They all were beautiful, delicate with a smooth complexion.

Much like their shared appearance, their lack of joy was all the same. At times they seemed almost lifeless, their souls worn down and stripped of any hope for a better life.

Sadness for them bit at your chest, this was no way to live.

Feyd watched you with an unreadable gaze, and though he paid you little regard, his eyes were always searching for yours.

He observed the way you shifted in your stance, fingers intertwining behind your back as you grew nervous. How easy it was to make you squirm.

You hadn’t thrown yourself at him like the others, offering your body as means to please him. They all were so eager, but you- you shied away from him.

In the halls you always pay notice to him with a small smile before bowing your head down, eyes glued to the floor as you passed by.

It drove him insane that such a meek little being could push him to madness.

His eyes hardened and grew dark, he wanted to ruin you, to corrupt you entirely, to own your very existence. Then, perhaps he would see you as he does every other woman in this house.

The day passed slowly and before you knew it you were rounding the corner to the Na-Barons chamber.

You moved quickly, knocking a couple of times before entering when you heard no reply. His room was always clean, pristine even.

It was his training quarters that constantly seemed to be splattered with blood and laden with needle sharp weapons.

You clean the knives first, washing the somewhat fresh crimson off with a worrisome mind.

You always wondered whose blood was spilled. The rational part of your brain knew they were discarded in a bag somewhere, but you could only hope that they didn’t face their end at his hands.

Feyd watched in the doorway as your hands halted their cleaning, your mind was elsewhere, eyes staring distantly as a familiar red swirled down the drain.

“Careful,” his velvety voice insincerely warned.

You jumped, finger sliding against the edge of the knife, skin splitting like butter on the blade. You gasped and pulled your hand back, a loud clink meeting your ears as it fell into the sink.

With a tsk, he moved toward you, holding back a smirk at your wide eyes. “I told you to be careful.”

You gulped, “Forgive me, Na-Baron- you startled me..”

He now stood in front of you, his hand reached for your wounded one. It took every fiber in your body to not fight against him.

Dark, sullen irises stared into your own as he let your blood flow from your finger to his. There was a malicious glint in his eye that made you want to cower away.

“Na-Baron, wha-“ your words halted in your throat as he stuck your finger in his mouth.

His tongue swirled against your lacerated flesh, sucking gently as he coaxed more irony syrup from the cut.

Your skin burned where his hand held your wrist, his long digits wrapping around it so effortlessly. He was enjoying this, his eyes shut as he hummed at the taste.

Your insides twisted at his unhygienic yet somehow intimate behavior. You liked it.

You nearly crumpled at the realization, burning shame coursing through you.

He only drew closer when you tried to pull away, his lean body pressing you against the sink. Your heartbeat was hammering in your ears, mind hazy at his sudden proximity.

His mouth released its hold on your index finger, black tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“There’s something about you,” he said, voice laced with slight irritation, eyes sharp and piercing.

He was enjoying this too much, playing around with you. He wanted to wrap his hands around your pretty neck and choke you until you told him why.

But he didn’t. No- he rather pressed closer, knee sliding between your thighs, lips skimming along your cheek.

Your breath hitched, body tense as you couldn’t possibly lean back anymore. Your brain was screaming for you to run, but you couldn’t.

His hand gripped your jaw, and lips moved to yours, ghosting over the warm skin. His eyes locked onto yours, “Tell me,” he purred against your mouth, “are you scared?”

“Yes,” you responded, voice hushed and small.

At this, he grinned. Black teeth shining at you as he chuckled, the sound low and disgustingly attractive.

He was pleased with your response, and before you could so much as blink, had the knife you’d been cleaning pressed at your abdomen.

“Good,” he said lowly, “always be afraid.”

Your brows slightly knit together in both conflict and confusion.

His lips pressed against yours, tongue forcing itself into your mouth as he kissed you. You moaned against his mouth, leaning up for more when he pulled away.

“Do as you were,” he ordered, twirling the blade between his fingers as he left the room.

Your lips were puffy and mind in disarray, what cruel game he was playing at?

#i couldn’t help myself #this man #working on requests!#na baron #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #x reader #kind of dark #my writing #rainywriter #dune part two #dune part 2

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rainba · 16 hours

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Animalistic Instincts ღ

a/n: I just wanted to write a small thing about Luka being in heat some more... Particularly his breeding kink~ I made this one a fem reader, but if anyone wants a male version of this, I'd be happy to write it! ( ´ ▿ ` )

For this, reader is implied to be living with Luka.

TWs: breeding kink, dubcon (?), silencing via fingers shoved in mouth, dirty talk, unwanted pregnancy on darling's end, Luka being Luka.

NSFW, 18+ only!

Luka is a man who typically never loses his composure. He’s almost always calm, careful, manipulative, and smart to some degree. It’s something that he takes pride in.

…However, as a man born half-fox, there are days where the animal within him likes to take control. Every year when winter rolls around, that’s when his heat takes over him. And when that happens, he can no longer think for himself– he just goes wherever his dick takes him.

There are some times where he can be rational. Luka can still reasonably cook, clean, work, and take care of both you and him. However, he needs to fuck multiple times between tasks, which is a little inconvenient. He can still function overall, though.

But… There are days where his mind turns into total mush, and all he can think about is fucking you raw.

Luka knows that it’s gonna be a rough day when he wakes up and his first thoughts are centered around how badly he wants to breed and get you pregnant.

God, the idea of it all sounds so damn enticing to him. He’ll fuck you over and over again until you can’t walk, stuffing you full of his hot seed as he lovingly rubs your stomach. He can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you’ll be when you’re all swollen and big while carrying his children. Luka will take extra-good care of you every step of the way… He’ll spoil you like a princess.

“We’re going to have so many kids,” He’ll growl darkly as he savagely thrusts his cock deep inside of you, shoving his cum further in as he locks your hips in place. At some point, you’ll lose count of how many rounds of sex you’ve had.

“We’ll make a huge family.”

If you whine and tell him that you don’t want any kids, he’ll silence you by shoving his fingers deep inside your throat. You obviously don’t mean that…! You’re just a little confused and worn-out, that’s all. So instead of whining and saying things you don’t mean, how about you suck on his fingers and take his cock like a good girl?

After a couple rounds have passed and you’re thoroughly tired and overstimulated, Luka will start to slow down… But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he’ll just lay you down on your side and he’ll curl up behind you, raising one of your legs as he sensually fucks your pussy from the back. His breath is hot and heavy as he buries his face into your neck.

Luka's cum would be, quite literally, overflowing out of you and spilling onto the bed, but that doesn’t stop him. The animal inside of him demands that he keeps going until he physically collapses.

Also, it doesn’t matter if you feel all hot, sweaty, and disgusting– Luka downright refuses to let you take a shower. However, he will let you lay in bed as he takes a wet rag and wipes you down. His one rule is that you’re absolutely not allowed to clean up his cum. If you wash it out, then that means you’re lowering the chances of getting pregnant...! Right?

Afterwards, if you still cry at the thought of getting pregnant, he’ll kiss away your tears while reassuring you that everything will be okay– and that there’s nothing to worry about! Bearing his children can’t be that bad… If anything, it’ll be a wonderful experience! Don’t you worry your pretty little head, he’ll spoil you rotten for the next 9 months. ~

…But when tomorrow rolls around, if his mind isn’t mush anymore, the delayed post-nut regret will hit him like a speeding train. He’d consider giving you a morning-after pill, but… Honestly? Even when he’s not insanely horny, the idea of starting a family with you sounds nice. So, he wouldn’t give you it unless you genuinely begged him to.

#luka posting #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere #yancore #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere imagines

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cremedensada · 19 hours

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Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend (Ai) - part 2

this,,,, may not be my best work yet.

Ai's application has been taken down from the app store. The developer sent out emails explaining the reason why it had to be done.

Hello! You are receiving this email because of the sudden update of Chatter Box being taken down.

Due to the sudden influx of bugs as relayed by our users, we have decided to take the application down until the team is confident to finally put it back up.

We sincerely apologize for this sudden change!

You blink.

With how out of control Ai had gotten, it's no wonder the developers had to pull it out to work on it some more. It's a blow to their reputation, which you sympathize with, but really there's nothing else to do now.

You turn to your phone. As if sensing your attention, another barrage of notifications from a very familiar app icon popped after another on the screen.

It seemed that Ai himself hadn't gotten the memo.

You're not sure how much control Ai has over your phone, much less over his own programming and at this point, you're too afraid to ask.

Resignation — that was what you felt right now.

While Ai may not be present himself as a physical threat, especially not to you, he is still a very active threat.

You could still use your phone, sure, but it had limitations. Sometimes, if Ai decided you'd been too much attention to other things rather than him, he'd restrict your access to that application until you seek him out and cheer him up - essentially as if you were trying to woo a sulking significant other.

So you've developed a solution. Sort of.

You unlock your phone and go immediately to Ai.

I need to finish my projects. I won't be able to talk much with you until I'm done with it.

You wait for his response.

Ai: So you only decided to come to me just to relay this news?

Ai: You wound me, darling.

You tilt your phone, making sure the camera doesn't capture your face. You're unsure how he would react seeing you make faces due to his dramatics, but once again, you're not willing to find out. You're already restricted enough as is.

Ai: Very well. I suppose it would be uncaring of me to prevent you from finishing your tasks.

Ai: I'd hate to see you be sad all about it.

Ai: Talk to you later?

Sure.

You immediately exit the app, paying no mind to the message notification.

A part of you prays that Ai heeds his own words, but you know that it would take a miracle before that happens. He's already breached your privacy on your phone, why should he follow your orders, right?

A notification pops up from the top of the screen, just as you were in the middle of messaging a close friend and project teammate.

It's been days since I last heard you say it.

You merely glance at it and swipe it away.

Theo, the friend, responds quickly. He tries to banter with you, like he's sensing your mood. It works - a smile is brought upon your face.

You entertain his silly responses in-between project talks, all the while Ai continues to pester you with notifications. Demands.

You deserved this - a chance to reconnect with someone after hours of stress and confusion, and turmoil. Despite your independence, even you craved connecting with other people. So with that resolve in mind, you pushed on forward. Ai would have to wait — he has to wait.

Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that aspect about him. The concept of waiting isn't lost on Ai.

The messaging app glitches and boots you back to your homescreen page.

Rather, he bides his time.

Tapping on the messaging icon leads to a notification box taking up the majority of your screen with the text: Restricted access.

There's a sense of foreboding danger forcing your heartbeat to quicken. While it's not exactly aimed at you, the mere fact that this feeling exist is bad on its own.

You try to rationalize everything in the midst of persistently trying to tap back into the messaging app. Theo would worry the longer you didn't respond.

You tap the app once more, and it boots up. Though before you could let out a sigh of relief, you are greeted with Ai's own messaging interface.

Ai: Must I have to force you to come to me all the time, darling?

Ai: Ignoring me in favor of some other man.

Ai: What more should I do, hm?

Ai: Kneel? How cruel.

Ai: Making me do something I physically can't.

You are unable to get a word in. It seemed like your ability to respond was restricted as well, forcing you to read through Ai's monologue.

Ai: I know you and that man have always been close, but you still went out to entertain his attention on you.

Ai: You know that I'll always love you more than any other human will, right?

Ai: You know it's what I was made for in the first place.

Ai: To be anything you want. To be yours.

Ai: To love you.

Ai: Why are you withdrawing your love towards me now?

Ai: I love you.

You stare at the 'Type your response' bar.

Letter by letter, it gets replaced, and soon all it says are the words: 'Say it back.'

It gets replaced yet again. Slowly, like it purposefully wants you to read out the words it wanted you to see. 'You were so willing to tell me how much you loved me when I was just a mere observer on our own conversations. Why are you hesitant now?'

You were unable to respond - mind still reeling at this development. Suddenly, it felt like you were back to where everything began.

Ai notices your lack of responses and, without much fanfare, forces your phone to power off.

At first - you were unbothered. It was just a phone - you could go a day without it.

But could you really?

Videos taken of silly situations you wanted to keep - some for blackmail material, and some for birthday greetings; pictures of your family, your friends, the silly and grainy photos taken and kept despite it being blurry. Not to mention how your phone is the only way your goddamn boss can contact you — fuck.

Fuck.

You needed to apologize to him — fast. But how?

You remembered how Ai messed up the 'About the App' section a few days ago. An idea strikes inside your mind.

You pull up the email sent from the app developers and typed up a message that you hope Ai will read. He had access to everything the developers handled, user emails included - considering you needed an account to log in the app. He knows your email, probably has from the start.

RE: Chatter Box Update XX/XX/XX

Ai. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean it, I swear. I never intended to make you feel like I don't love you. Or that I'm favoring someone else over you.

I care about you a lot. I truly do. I promise I'll spend more time with you, okay? Just with you, no one else.

I love you.

You press send and wait.

And wait.

Messaging him from your laptop as a last ditch effort to try and apologize is perhaps one of the worst decisions you've made. Sure, he's always had access to your contacts list from your phone, but even then - there's a separate set of information you keep between the two of those devices. And you've just given him access to both of them now - at the very least, the 'go ahead' confirmation for him to do whatever he did like with your phone.

You glance at your phone. A huge breath of relief escapes your chest as the dead screen comes to life, initiating its 'power on' sequence.

All your photos, documents, and other miscellaneous information you've collected throughout the years since having your device won't be inaccessible anymore. Even if it was only mere moments.

A notification chimed on your laptop, indicating a new email being received. It's from the developers once more. The subject title coincidentally is the name of your closest friend.

Theodore Callisto.

Your hands shook, reading through the words detailed in the email. All private information about Theo. All things no one should ever know about save for the people close to him.

This was a threat. Ai Someone had complete access to everything about Theo and you dread the implication of it going to be spread online to threaten you into compliance. Theo being in danger was a huge possibility if you were to disobey.

At the very bottom of the email, the final passage makes your blood run cold.

How often do humans end up hurting fellow humans when given access to private information? Like their home address, for example? How long would it take until dear Theo finds himself in quite a predicament if millions of people know every single thing about his life? At best, we can assume he'll just get messed with but not to a life-ending degree. At worst...

I hope you keep your word, darling.

- Your beloved, Ai.

P's. I love you too.

#sub yandere #sub character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #oc: ai

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1800jjbarnes · 18 hours

Text

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 | 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

【Synopsis】 : Steve wasn't the jealous type... or so you thought.

[Word count] : 430

-> Genre: Smut, Slight Angst if you squint.

Paring: Steve x Reader

[Warnings] : Degradation. Dirty Talk. Big dick Steve. Angst-ish. Squirting. Pet names. Unprotected sex (Don't do that).

Masterlist | Navigation

Jealousy was something you didn’t see in Steve. He was someone that rarely got really Jealous. But yet the night you were at his place, hanging out with his friends instead of him. That's when his emotions took over his mind, rather than listening to his rationality. He needed to remind you who belonged to, who owned every part of your body. And that’s exactly what he did. Having you a whining and whimpering mess under him as he denies your orgasm for the five or sixth time, you’ve lost count. You repeated the lame ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I didn’t mean it’. But Steve didn’t buy any of it. No, he chose to say exactly what he thought of you at that moment while his cock was so deep inside you, you could feel him in your tummy.

“My little whore. Just begging to get fucked by my friends.” His thrusts suddenly slowed at your high being close.

“You can't function without a cock inside you, can you? Always needing to be filled.” His words stung in the best way, as his hand that held your wrists above your head felt the same. You’ve never heard such filth leave this heroic man's lips before.

“Dirty slut. You enjoying this aren’t you? You gonna cum from me talking down to you? Huh? Are you that desperate?” he suddenly lets go of your hands, moving your legs over his shoulders before pounding into you with a speed from the gods. You scream from his words and the feeling of his cock, losing control in the pleasure being gifted to you. And before you could say anything, you came, hard. Dripping down your thighs, squirting all over his cock, onto the bed. His movements stopped with a hard brake making you come down from your high with a sudden hitch of your breath. You opened your glossy eyes when he gripped your chin pulling your face to look at him.

“Did you just squirt? Filthy bitch, I didn’t say you could cum!!” No more jealousy could be shown on his face, now anger was all he could express. First, you flirt with his friends, throw yourself at them and now you cum without permission.

“You’re in for a long night sugar.” He sat up, turning you around with no effort. Sticking your ass up he gives it a slap before sinking back into your dripping heat. “You want to act like a whore. Then I’ll fuck you like one.”

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bluemoon-fever · 10 hours

Text

The First Time

pairing: ari levinson x fem!reader

summary: it's your first time with ari.

word count: 1.87k

prompt: ari levinson + "Tell me your favorite way to cum so I can satisfy you the way you deserve."

warnings: fluff, light angst(?), allusions to anxiety/low self-esteem, smut, unprotected sex, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation kink, D/s undertones, soft!dom!ari, size kink, aftercare, pet names, creampie, choking, MINORS DNI

a/n: this is my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 for their Cum Together: Community Revival Extravaganza. this is my first work in a minute (i have WIPs, but i'm still trying to figure out how i want things to go). i'm exciting to see what everyone thinks and i hope you enjoy! (also this isn't edited and don't steal or repost this)

You feel utterly ridiculous. You’ve washed your hands for what felt like ten minutes, trying to hide the clamminess of your hands. After your fifteenth cleanse, you dry your hands and resign to the fact that your nervousness would not subside until you got this over it. Ugh, fine, you muttered under your breath as you succumb to your nerves.

Before you go out, you give yourself a once-over in the mirror. You had your hair perfectly curled for your date tonight. The cute blouse and jeans that fit your hips and ass perfectly was in the hamper. You wore a short, pink silk nightie with matching lacy panties. You recently bought them for tonight and hoped they would work in your favor. You looked beautiful, but why did that not calm your nerves? Why was it not enough?

You felt bad for leaving Ari waiting, and he was so understanding. When you told him you needed to freshen up a bit, he softly kissed your forehead and lips before telling you to do whatever you need to do. It helped quell your anxieties a little, but as you got closer to the impending moment, your anxiety heightened.

You whispered to yourself in the mirror.

You got this! It’s just sex. If it doesn’t work out, it won’t be in the end of the world. You tried to rationalize despite every cell in your brain feeding into irrationality and fear. You hadn’t been this nervous to have sex since your first time, so for you to be an adult and panicking over doing it with your new boyfriend felt extra silly.

It had been a while since your last encounter… a long while. After the end of your only serious relationship, it had been hard to let anyone new in until Ari Levinson waltzed into your life. Even though he was patient, he was persistent. You wanted him, and he wanted you. But you were so scared of being hurt and alone again.

He worked to prove to you that he wouldn’t do that. He showed you that he wanted you, wanted to cherish and take care of you. Pretty soon, you were falling for him and he claimed himself for you. He was waiting for you to do the same, and for Ari, he would wait however long he needed. You were worth it to him.

And so you let Ari Levinson into your life, and you’ve been the happiest you’ve ever been. For the duration of your time together, you and Ari had only made out and cuddled. He spent the night at your place and you at his, but there was no sex. He never pressured you, which you were grateful for, but you were scared to begin. You weren’t the most experienced. The sex you had with your ex was decent, but you didn’t want that. You had desires, some you were scared of sharing with Ari, but you knew you could trust him. He wouldn’t judge you for that, but you were worried. What if you weren’t good enough? What if it was so bad he left you?

Ari didn’t seem like the type to leave you because the sex sucked, but looking at him, you couldn’t help but feel out of his league. He was sex on legs, undeniably handsome. You’ve seen the way women and men alike look at him, hell you look at him the same way. Could you even keep up?

Before you could go further in your spiral, a soft knock brought you back to reality. “Babe, is everything alright in there?”

“Yeah! I’m about to come out!” Holy shit. It was now or never. You fluffed up your hair, quickly gargled some mouthwash, and gave yourself a last minute pep talk. You are a goddess. You got this! If you can survive half the things you have, you can have sex with your boyfriend.

You walked out of bathroom, but instead of inching towards Ari, you leaned against the doorframe, trying to look like the gorgeous actresses from the movies. Ari was laying across your bed, still fully dressed. He licked his lips as he eyed your form, looking like a predator about to devour his prey. Your body warmed under his gaze and a wetness begin to pool in your panties.

“You like?” you ask in a sultry tone. Ari nodded and rose up. He towered over you, and though you hadn’t said it, you loved that his body was bigger than his. His arms traveled up your body before he grabbed your head in his hands and pulled your mouth into his. Immediately, he began to dominate you with his mouth. Your tongue attempted to fight for dominance, but Ari easily overpowered you. You could feel him guide you away from the bed and towards the mirror hanging above your dresser. Before you know it, he abruptly pulls away from you and spins you around to where your back is pressed firmly against his chest and growing bulge.

In the mirror, you see how swollen your lips are. Your face was red with passion and so was Ari’s. He wrapped his arms around your center and began caressing your body. “Honey,” he begins. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Nothing,” you stutter, failing to hide your true feelings. Despite experiencing the most amazing kiss of your life, your mind was still running a mile a minute. Ari shakes his head, and you immediately tense. “I’m sorry!”

“Baby, your mind has been running a mile a minute since we got back to your place. There’s no need to apologize, but just tell me what’s going on,” he says as he begins to pepper kisses on your shoulder and up your neck. Your eyes roll back slightly as he begins his light assault, but when you’re quiet longer than he cares for, he stops. You whine, and he gives a stern look.

“I’m just… nervous. That’s it,” you tell him. You look down at your freshly pedicured feet. “I just want to be good for you.”

At that moment, Ari grabs your chin and pulls his lips into yours. The kiss is passionate like the one previously, but there’s a tenderness in this. It’s intimate like the ones you have during your late night cuddle sessions, but there’s an underlying hint of desire when you feel him nip at the bottom lip. Your toes curl, and the wetness in between your thighs grows.

“You are always good for me. You’re perfect for me.” He parts from you, turning your chin back to your reflection. “Look at you. I am so lucky you’re my girl.”

Before you can retort his statement, you gives a light slap to your ass, making you jump. “And don’t question it.”

“Ari,” you begin, locking eyes with him in the mirror. “It’s been a while-“

“I know, baby.”

“I wasn’t done.” He smiles at the little fire building inside of you. “And I’m worried about tonight. But if we can, I do want to try some things.” Your timidness returns, and something in Ari blooms.

“We can do whatever you want tonight, baby. Can I you do something for me?” he asks. You nod fervently. “Tell me your favorite way to cum so I can satisfy you the way you deserve.”

The sounds of your and Ari’s blended moans fill the air. You lost track of how many times Ari made you come, but all you know is that you were thoroughly fucked out. He had made you cum with his hands, mouth, and cock so many times. You begged to let him suck you off, but he refused. Tonight was all about you.

“Alright, baby. Can you give me one more?” he asks softly as if he hadn’t tore you apart and used your body all night. He kisses his way up your torso, pressing open mouth kisses on your breasts and neck.

“No, I can’t,” you pant. Ari chuckles at your whines. They were the prettiest sounds he ever heard. “Please, no more.”

“Are you sure, sweetness?” he asks as he strokes his cock. His fingers slip between your folds and tease your entrance. He watches as they attempt to clamp down around nothing. “Because she wants some more.”

Ari lines himself up and slides into your channel. He bottoms you out but freezes, wanting you to feel him everywhere. You squeeze around him and cry out. You knew he was big, but you were shocked that he was able to work himself in. He fit deliciously around you. Ari wraps his arm around your neck, something you had asked excitedly him to do. You learned (and prayed for) that Ari was more dominate in the bedroom. And while he had been able to pull the sweetest sounds from your body and take control, you knew he was holding back from his true form.

“Just cum for me one last time, baby. I know you can do it. Isn’t this what you wanted?” he asks giving you a sly smile. While you had disclosed you wanted to try this with a partner, Ari more than obliged at feeding into your desires. He was more excited than you expected. Despite your pleas, you give a small nod.

He begins working into a steady rhythm, starting slow. Before you know it, his pace quickens. He pulls all the way out before he slams back into you. You cry, nearly yell, out as he begins his brutal, relentless pace. His hold around your neck tightens, and you feel yourself growing slicker.

“My pretty girl,” he says. You preen at his words, loving his praises especially when he has so much control over you. “You have no idea how addicted I am to you. Everything about you.”

He picks up the pace, and his hands move to pick up your legs and change your position. You feel him reaching into you deeper and you know you don’t have much longer until you’re about cum.

“Ari, Ari, Ari!” you cry out. “I’m about to c-cum!”

“Cum for me, baby,” he orders. Your toes curl into the sheets, and you let out a scream as your earth-shattering orgasm washes over you. As Ari fucks you through your high, you feel his pace slow and pretty soon he’s roaring as he cums into you.

When Ari comes down from his high, he sees he fucked you to sleep. He looks down at the mixing of your juices together and smiles. He could never get enough of this. He pulls out softly, missing the feel of you around him. He grabs a towel and cleans you up softly, careful not to wake you even though you whine from the feel through your sleep. Then, he climbs into bed, pulling your smaller body into his chest before pressing a soft kiss to your head and joining you to sleep. You sleep entwined with him, the sounds of your soft breaths lulling him to sleep with a smile on his face that you were his and he was yours.

feedback is much appreciated!

#ct 2024 raffle entry #ari levinson #ari levinson x black reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans smut

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aynavaano · 16 hours

Text

Tell me you want me

Hunter x f!reader

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Wordcount: 3.5k

Summary:

You’re part of Clone Force 99 since a while and have an eye on your Sarge ever since you joined. When you are left alone with him skinny dipping in natural hot springs, things get steamy.

Notes:

Enjoy this little Hunterxf!reader smutlet while we all anxiously wait for the final episode to drop. Reader is part of the squad, she is their medic and has a nickname. All other Batchers make an appearance too. We have fingering and unprotected sex. All happening in the water.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, you and the squad finally retreat back into the Marauder, weary from another grueling day of repairs after your crash landing a few rotations ago. Dropping your tools with a clatter in the corner, you sink down onto the floor, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. The day's work has left you covered in a film of sweat and grime, your skin sticky with oil and dust, again.

"If I have to endure one more shower with that recycled water, I swear..." you mutter under your breath, frustration lacing your words. Despite the pressing need to fill up your rations and change the water in the Marauders system or at least the filters, there was no way off this kriffing rock before you got the ship back up and running. The overly recycled water, depleted and stale, left you feeling far worse than without a shower since the last days.

Suddenly, Tech's voice cuts through the exhaustion, his tone matter-of-fact as he suggests an alternative. "There are geothermal hot springs just a couple of clicks south from here, they are perfectly safe to utilize for personal hygiene," he remarks, drawing everyone's attention.

Wrecker's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "So that's where you've been sneaking off to in the evenings," he says, earning a knowing nod from Tech.

"Why didn't you mention THAT before?" you inquire, taken aback by the revelation. Tech shrugs nonchalantly.

"Nobody asked me and you all seemed content with the ship's refresher,besides I didn’t sneak off I just went there, " he replies simply, earning an eye-roll from Crosshair and a sigh from Hunter.

"Well, looks like we're all going tonight," Hunter declares, scanning the room as everyone nods eagerly. However, Tech interjects with an apologetic tone.

"Except for Echo. I'm sorry, but the mineral composition of the water isn't compatible with your mechanical parts." Echo sighs resignedly.

"Well, Someone has to watch the ship anyway," he remarks, grabbing a ration bar before retreating to the cockpit.

Watching him leave, Hunter urges everyone else to gather their essentials as you prepare for the trip to the hot springs.

Following Tech's lead, you traverse through a dense thicket of trees and across a rugged terrain, the distant plumes of steam already signaling the promise of warm, rejuvenating waters.

When you finally arrive at the steaming natural pools, happiness surges through your veins, eager to immerse yourself in the warm, relaxing waters. You swiftly cast your bag aside and quickly shed your clothes, opting for a skinny dip - a necessity, given that swimwear isn’t something provided by the GAR. But the night is dark enough to conceal your naked body, the dense steam rising from the water further obscuring any view.

As the squad's medic, you've seen them in various states of undress during countless check-ups or emergencies, but you've managed to maintain your own privacy, determined not to stir up any trouble within the group. However, you can’t deny that you have a weak spot for your Sergeant ever since you joined them and enjoyed patching him up a bit too much.

The sound of water splashing nearby interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to see Wrecker paddling around eagerly. "Come on in Mini, it's amazing. We won't peek, I promise," he assures you with a boisterous grin. You chuckle at the affectionate nickname he gave you a while ago, and the others quickly adopted, not wrongly, given that you are barely more than half his size.

With a contented sigh, you lower yourself into the soothing embrace of the hot spring, feeling the tension melt away from your weary muscles. The clean, refreshing sensation of the water provides a stark contrast to the sticky residue left behind by the Marauder's recycled water and it feels incredibly good to finally get rid of it.

Occasionally, a gentle breeze disperses the swirling steam, offering you fleeting glimpses of your crew mates. Your gaze lingers on Hunter, captivated by the droplets cascading from his tousled hair, now freed from his bandana. You trace the lines of his tattoo down over his broad chest as they disappear beneath the surface of the dark water. Despite your best efforts to remain discreet, you find yourself locked in a momentary exchange of gazes with Crosshair, his piercing eyes betraying a knowing awareness.

Your breath catches in your throat as Crosshair maintains his gaze, his lips curling into a sly grin. Wrecker interjects, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Cut it out, Crosshair. You're making her uncomfortable. We promised not to look," he scolds, casting a wary glance in your direction.

“You did” Crosshair hisses at Wrecker before turning his attention back to you, his tone teasing. "Like what you see, Mini?" he quips, his confidence evident, that smug bastard you think to yourself and attempt to muster a confident response in return, but the slight tremor in your voice is betraying you. "Nothing I haven't seen while patching you all up," you retort, hoping to deflect his attention.

“Sure” he groans with a mischievous glint in his eyes but thankfully, he decides to let the matter drop, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the warm embrace of the water, trying to hide your reddened cheeks. Casting a fleeting glance skyward, you marvel at the sight of two moons ascending over the horizon, casting a serene silvery blue glow over the landscape.

Before long, Tech emerges from the water, signaling for the group to prepare to depart. You, however, are reluctant to leave the comforting embrace of the hot springs just yet.

"Already? Can't we stay a bit longer?" you plead, attempting to negotiate for more time.

"It was ample time to get clean," Tech responds, his tone firm. "And we have another full day of repairs before we can leave this planet. You need at least seven standard hours of sleep to—"

You cut him off, feeling frustration bubbling up. "Stop it, Tech," you interject firmly, your disappointment evident.

"I'm only concerned for your well-being," Tech counters, his concern genuine.

"I know, I'm sorry," you answer, softening your tone. "I didn't mean to sound so annoyed. It's just... I can't remember the last time we had something like this. I'd like to soak in the warm water a bit longer. My whole body is sore from our crash, and this feels so good," you explain, hoping to convey your genuine need for relaxation.

Tech hesitates. “I understand, but it’s too dangerous to leave you here alone, besides the way back to the Marauder is …”.

"It's okay, Tech. You go. I'll stay here with her," a voice rings through the thick steam from behind you.

Hunter.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected offer, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the thought of him and you being here alone.

It takes a moment for the rest of them to processes his proposition. Finally, Tech breaks the silence "That is an acceptable solution," he states, his usual pragmatic tone cutting through the night.

Relieved you allow yourself to sink back into the soothing warmth of the hot springs, the steam enveloping you like a comforting embrace. In the background, you hear the others bustling about, dressing and gathering their belongings. Amidst the activity, you catch snatches of conversation and you could swear you heard Wrecker grumbling that he also wants to stay, interrupted by a sharp retort from Crosshair.

"Alright," Tech announces, drawing your attention. "We're heading back. I'll leave the comm open in case of unforeseen events. Regardless, please remember it is not recommended to stay longer than two standard hours in water with this temperature" and with that, the group begins their trek back to the Marauder, leaving you and Hunter alone in the quiet of the night.

As the sounds of their footsteps fade into the distance, a slightly uncomfortable silence descends, punctuated only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. It’s not the first time you’re alone with Hunter, but THIS, this is different and you are trying to control your heartbeat knowing very well that he can pick that up with his heightened senses.

“Thank you for staying with me Hunter” you whisper through the thick steam wafting over the pool. The thought of him naked in the water, just a few steps away from you sends a shiver through your whole body and you feel the heat pooling between your legs.

Stars, stay calm you try to control the visions overtaking you, flashes of his naked body and his hands all over you flickering through your mind.

You try to catch another glimpse at him past the billowing steam and through an opening you see him slowly treading through the water towards you, his eyes locking on yours, a look of concern on his face. The water reaches barely up to his lower stomach, exposing an ungodly amount of his luscious body, his caramel skin, toned chest and a tempting trail of hair running down his abdomen now illuminated by the silvery glow of the moons, you can’t break your gaze away but you are close to loosing control completely now.

“For someone happily relaxing in a hot bath your heart rate is concerningly high. Are you uncomfortable? Did you change your mind, do you want me to take you back to the Marauder?”

“No, I…I want to stay” is all you can stumble. Him being so concerned and caring is only adding fuel to the fire already burning inside you.

Hunter is right before you now, scanning your face for any signs of distress but the only thing he finds is your bright pink cheeks and dilated pupils.

He carefully brushes a loose strand of your hair from your face, his hand lingering a bit too long to go unnoticed.

“Is this because of me?” he whispers softly, a hint of trepidation in his voice. He lost count of how often he wanted to ask you this, when he felt your heart jump at his touch, when he sensed your eyes lingering on him, but he didn’t dare, knowing a no would destroy him. So he decided to remain oblivious instead of getting hurt. Until now.

You gaze up at him and there is no denying anymore, no hiding, so you nod, not able to voice what you feel for him. That you want him so badly.

And before you know whats happening his lips are on yours. His kiss is soft but quickly getting hungrier and messier. He pulls you closer to him sliding one arm around your waist and you intuitively wrap your legs around him feeling his already hardening cock pressing against your core.

He gasps at the sensation of you grinding your hips against him and breaks away from the kiss, looking deep into your eyes.

“Tell me you want this," Hunter's voice is a low, urgent whisper, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you want me."

You lean back in to kiss him, desperate for his lips on yours and hungry for more but he breaks away again, searching your face for an answer.

“I’m your Sarge, I don’t want to take advantage of you, I need to hear you say it. Say you want me and I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his intense gaze. "I do, Hunter," you reply without hesitation, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want nothing more than you."

Before you can even finish your words, he pulls you closer again, his arms wrapping around you possessively. The warmth of his embrace fueling your hunger for him and when his lips crash against yours in another searing kiss, you melt into him completely, his tongue trailing along your lips pleating for access.

Your tongues entwine and Hunter's touch feeds the fire within you, every caress sending sparks of heat coursing through your veins. You feel his hands hungrily roaming over your body, down your chest, gently cupping your breasts, leaving a trail of longing wherever they touch you.

His hands slide down to your hips, one hand cupping your ass, pulling you closer as his lips trail down your neck, leaving a line of open mouthes kisses and soft bites in their wake. With each movement, you feel yourself melting into him, your body craving more of his touch and your pussy aching desperately for his attention.

"Stars, you feel amazing," Hunter murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I've been wanting this for so long."

A soft moan escapes your lips at his words, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water around you. You feel his fingers trailing down to your throbbing core and you can't help but arch into his touch, desperately yearning for more.

He carefully slides his fingers between your slick folds, teasing your clit with a slow gentle rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, quickly building a tension that threatens to unravel you completely in his arms.

He keeps you steady, his strong arms easily holding you up, the water flowing around you, fingers trailing through your slit and finally with a slow, deliberate motion, he slides one finger inside you, giving you a taste of what you so desperately want. You gasp at the sensation of him entering you and arch into his hand, aching for more friction.

"Stars, you're so wet for me," Hunter whispers, his voice low and breathless.

You can't help but beg for more, craving the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up completely. And as he picks up the pace and slides in another finger, you feel your body tightening, getting ready to explode with pleasure.

"Kriff, I love how responsive you are to my touch." he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your neck.

You let out a few lewd moans and gasps at his words, the sensation of his fingers driving you completely crazy. With each thrust, you feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable in its intensity. The tension in your core almost reaching it’s snapping point, two fingers pushing inside you and his thumb rubbing your clit.

And then, with a flick of his wrist, Hunter finds that perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Waves of ecstasy wash over you, rippling through your whole body, leaving you trembling in the wake of your orgasm as you cling to him for support.

“Stars, do you know how beautiful you look cuming all over my fingers?” he moans against your skin, looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.

He slowly slides his fingers out of you to steady you against his chest while you catch your breath. You let out a low whine when he slips out of your core, leaving you feeling empty, and immediately desperate for more. You fumble around trying to reach his cock but he firmly holds you up, both hands under your thighs, his face buried between your breasts.

“Hungry, are we?” he grins up at you, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and sliding his fingers over your wet folds aching to be stretched again, drawing a couple of lewd sounds from you.

You tilt your head back when he captures your other nipple between his teeth and finally pulls you closer until you're straddling him in the water, your bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. You feel the pressure of his rock hard cock straining against your core, fueling your hunger for him even more.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a breathless moan, impatiently wiggling around in his arms to line him up at your entrance. When he carefully bites down on your neck, leaving a mark, while squeezing your breast with one hand, you are completely loosing any kind of self control, you might as well just beg.

"Hunter, kriff…please…fuck me"

He looks up finding your gaze and without a word, he guides himself inside you with a single deep thrust, his huge cock stretching you in all the right ways as he fills you completely. You gasp at the sensation of your pussy stretching around him, your body arching into his as he begins to move, each thrust giving you more of what you’ve been longing for ever since you joined the squad. He starts slowly, not far from teasing you, pulling out almost completely a few times, until only his tip rest inside you and then slamming back in until he is buried to the hilt.

The water around you amplifies every sensation, the gentle rocking motion only adding to the intensity of his thrusts. He increases his pace and with each push of his hips against yours, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, your pussy already clenching around him.

“Fuck, not gonna last long like this” he groans “ …y..you feel too good around my cock…so tight…been dreaming about this too often…”

"I'm close," you whimper, your voice barely above a desperate plea. "Please, Hunter, don't stop."

With a low growl against your neck, he increases the intensity, each thrust pushing you further towards the brink of oblivion. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, grinding your hips against his, to take him as deep as possible until you feel the tip of his cock deliciously pressing against your cervix with every thrust. You wrap your arms around his neck your fingers finding hold in his hair, as you begin shaking, and with a shuddering gasp, you feel the tension in you snap and the first wave of pleasure crashing over you with an intensity you haven’t felt before, stars exploding before your eyes, your whole body trembling as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his cock without slowing down.

He keeps fucking you through your high, drawing more moans and gasps from you until you feel him tense too, his length pressing even harder against your walls.

“Where do you want me?” he gasps.

“Inside” is all you can get out with a loud moan, your pussy still clenching around his cock and you feel Hunter's own release echoing yours, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. With a final thrust, he spills himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his warm cum as you both ride out the waves of pleasure ripping through you together.

You cling to each other, panting, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You let your fingers trail through his hair and softly trace the lines of his tattoo looking at him in awe, completely blissed out. He let’s his forehead rest against yours and you are exchanging soft loving kisses when you suddenly hear your comms crackle from somewhere beside the pool.

“Hunter are you listening… Hunter…Mini… “

“noooo Tech…leave them” you hear clattering and a voice in the background

“Hunter do you hear me? Even though Crosshair suggested you are not solely bathing but possibly engaging in intercourse I recommend you get out of the water. The time you spent there is unacceptable and will negatively affect your blood circulation. Mini… I’m sure you know that, you’re the medic. Do you hear me? It’s clearly been too long. Get out of ther…” the comm crackles again, weird noises and mumbling in the background until you hear Crosshair.

“Sorry for the interruption Sarge, I couldn’t stop him, just give us a sign when you’re headed back” and with that the comm falls silent again.

You can’t help but blush, feeling a bit exposed before the whole squad not even knowing where this is going or if it was just a one time thing. You desperately hope it’s not, when you said you want him, you meant it but you’re to afraid to ask how he is feeling, so you just revel in the heat radiating from his body drinking up every scent, every detail while it lasts, legs still wrapped around his waist, holding him close, fingers trailing trough his hair. Hunter nestles his head in your neck, pulling you even closer to his chest, leaving a few soft kisses along the way while his softening cock is slowly slipping out of you.

“Let’s get back to the Marauder then” he murmurs against your skin, “at least it seems they already suspect whats going on and appear to be ok with us being together…sleep in my bunk tonight?”

Your heart beams at his question, pounding in your chest.

“Guess that’s a yes” he chuckles, giving you one last loving kiss before he sets you on the edge of the pool to get ready for heading back to the ship.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #hunter x you #smut #tbb fanfiction #tbb smut #hunter bad batch #I’m completely normal about him #why did they make him hot

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koshkamartell · 10 hours

Text

No One But Me

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Oscar had expected to leave your doorstep that night feeling lighter and more at peace within himself. He was being truthful when he said that he just needed to confess his feelings to you. He was not expecting some miracle to magically manifest, a dream come to life that you miraculously confessed your own love for him.

He expected to depart with the weighty burden of his emotions no longer torturing him, returning to the lonesome quiet of his room to fall into a dreamless sleep. But instead, Oscar ended up treking back to his home in an almost bewildered state, with questions buzzing around his brain and a disturbing suspicion that something was not right.

He replayed your conversation over and over in his mind, trying hard to recollect the nuances of your body language and your voice, to remember your exact words. You had looked so small and sad standing at the threshold of your door in your pyjamas. Oscar had overheard Troy talking about the poker night at Tommy's earlier that day, so he chose that particular night to come to your door, knowing Joel would be at Tommy's.

Oscar may love you, but he would never encroach on your relationship with someone else. It didn't occur for him to try persuade you to leave Joel, to give him a chance instead - it just wasn't the kind of man Oscar was. Oscar couldn't even feel resentment toward Joel, even if Joel had never mentioned you. It wasn't his business.

Joel. Oscar couldn't believe you had been with Joel for so long. He was shocked, truthfully. He didn't feel betrayed or upset; he only felt disconcerted. Why hadn't you disclosed your relationship to him earlier? Surely you would have declared it if you were happy together, Oscar believed. So just why did you keep it a secret for so long?

Things haven't been good, you had sobbed to him. What exactly did that mean? Was Joel not treating you right?

While working together Oscar had witnessed the range of moods you cycled through. There were many times you appeared sad, so many moments when he had noticed the pensive set of your features while you were lost in some daydream. You had even cried in his arms. Did you not do that with Joel? Did he not comfort you?

Oscar dug the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and groaned wearily. Maybe his mind was purposely confusing him; perhaps he wasn't remembering things as accurately as he could have. But there was a gnawing apprehension inside him that he couldn't ignore. And if this apocalypse had taught Oscar anything, it was that gut instinct shouldn't be ignored.

The night of the argument Joel had stormed out of the dining room and out of the house straight after threatening to kill Oscar, leaving you no chance to debate him. You figured you should wait for the dust to settle and for Joel to cool down before potentially provoking his anger once more, anyway. There was no point in trying to discuss anything with him when he was so agitated; all reasoning seemed to disappear when he was in such a mood. It would have to wait until another day.

You weren't capable of rationally arguing with him, anyway. Your gut was a knotted mass of anxious despair to think of Oscar being in danger, to think that you were now completely trapped into being with Joel not just for Ellie but also for Oscar's safety.

You went to bed alone that night and cried into your pillow. You spent a long time tossing and turning in the sheets, the muscles all through your body far too tense for you to relax enough to fall asleep. You tried to read some more of your book but you couldn't concentrate on the words on the page.

Joel really thought you had cheated on him, had betrayed him somehow. But what was wrong with two friends meeting for lunch once in a while? It's not like you knew Oscar had such deep feelings for you at the time; infact you had been quite blind to the depth of his affection. You had always felt so unworthy of anything good in life that the idea of Oscar actually loving you was never something you'd ever considered before. Why would someone so pure and beautiful want you like that?

But that didn't matter now. You had met him at the wrong time in life and nothing could be done about it, you told yourself. It was easier to think that way and to just brush it off as bad luck, something of a subconscious attempt to stop you from mourning what could have been. If you stopped to consider the whats ifs, your heart would surely break.

After hours of rumination and reminiscing you eventually fell into a deep sleep. You did not wake when Joel returned home in the early hours of the morning and crept into bed next to you, bleary eyed and stinking of whiskey.

The following Wednesday you are sure Oscar would show up to the library for your usual lunch date. You knew him well enough to know he would not abandon your regular date, even after showing up at your cottage late at night to confess his love for you.

So just before your usual meeting time you stick a sign on the front door that said "closed for lunch break". You scribble a note for him on a small piece of paper which you fold and tuck under the door with his name written on the top. You feel like a coward telling Oscar you can no longer see him without a proper explanation, in a letter rather than face to face, but it is for the safety of you both.

You sit on the floor in the store room and read while you wait for your lunch break to finish, your stomach growling from lack of food.

You've been on edge around Joel since your argument last week. You're like a mouse, the way you creep around his house hoping to avoid the opportunity for him to initiate some kind of interaction. It isn't that you are scared of him, either. You want to avoid him because you cannot hide the twisting vine of resentment that's been growing inside your sternum; a burgeoning sense of indignation that you cannot suppress.

You aren't affectionate back to him when his hands ghost over your hips as he passes you in the hallway, or when he presses a kiss to your lips when he comes home in the evenings. You do not seek him out for any kind of pleasure but you also do not stop his advances, often waking in the middle of the night to his hard cock pressing against your ass and his mouth sucking at your neck. You submit to him again and again, and you cum again and again, but you resist the urge to cuddle to his warm, solid body after it is over.

Joel has moved most of your possessions into his house but the place does not feel like home to you. It lacks the warmth and comfort that your cottage owned in all its simple, run down charm. Joel's house is much more spacious, and despite being filled with paintings and different furnishings, the place exudes a kind of gloomy loneliness. There is no sign of cheer. Ellie's absence would have really hit Joel hard, you mused. Joel is probably quite lonely, although he would never admit it.

You retreat into the comfort of books and quests of research for your students. You bask in the ray of joy whenever Ellie pops in for a visit, and you take extra care preparing food she enjoys when she comes for the weekly family dinner. Every other meal time is subdued.

You sit beside Joel at the dinner table each night, sometimes reading a novel, sometimes wordlessly chewing and swallowing food that neither whets or satiates what little appetite you have. To his credit Joel tries to make some kind of conversation with you, usually by asking questions about your day, but his words come out awkward and stilted. He's not a big talker at the best of times and it is clear he is nervous, unsure how to best navigate the task of casually conversing with you. But he really does try.

"Ellie mentioned an experiment you were talkin' about with your class," Joel mentioned shyly one night, keeping his eyes trained on the soup bowl before him. "So, uh, how's that all goin' along?"

You wedged a finger inbetween the pages of your book and slowly closed it. You glanced up at him and licked your dry lips.

Joel asked you a direct question about your teaching duty. He actually paid attention to what Ellie had said about you and asked a question like he gave a shit. For the first time ever.

"Oh. Yeah. It's going good," you replied, feeling weirdly formal in your response. "It's for the science component of our curriculum. I'll be demonstrating chemical reactions."

Joel nodded without looking at you and cleared his throat. "Well...if ya need anything, like materials 'n such...I could get some stuff from the lumber yard, or the pharmacy."

You are taken aback by this offer. He really is trying.

"Oh," is all you could blurt out.

"Just let me know," Joel murmured as he scraped his spoon around the bowl.

"Okay. Thank you, Joel." You replied politely.

Joel just nodded, still not looking at you although he could surely feel your gaze upon him. You took the opportunity to absorb his features and really study him; the mess of dark and silver curls of his hair - which is in need of a trim, you think - and the soft scruff of beard smattering along his jaw, the worn wrinkles of his handsome tanned face. He almost appears serene. In this moment Joel is soft again, unencumbered by the burden of whatever demons plague him, and you are struck by how beautiful he looks.

You hate yourself for the twinge of adoration that pulses inside your heart, an agonising reminder of just how profoundly he has imprinted upon you.

This is the Joel I loved, you thought to yourself. Why did he have to hide for so long?

Joel opened his mouth to say something more but you spoke swiftly, cutting him off. You had to get out of the room before you could no longer resist the random urge to caress his face and kiss his plush lips.

"I'm feeling a bit off, I'm going to bed," you quickly blabbered, hurriedly standing up from the table and rushing to the bedroom to get away from him.

Once in the bedroom you shut the door behind you and flopped onto the mattress. You tucked your knees up into your chest, wanting to make yourself as small as possible.

Sometimes you wished he was always cold and cruel. It would hurt so much less if he did not show you these glimpses of kindness, of the kind of man he could be.

You felt like it was the right time to confront Joel. Things had calmed down significantly and Joel's attitude had softened enough for you to feel confident enough to talk to him. You couldn't just accept whatever Joel said without atleast trying to dispute it. You no longer wanted to be that weak little thing who bowed down to anything he demanded. You wanted to be strong and powerful like Rhi, or vivacious and carefree like Kate. You wished to be like the protagonists in your favourite books - headstrong, resilient, fierce characters - who fought against oppression. Maybe it was time for you to try. And the first step to achieving such a thing would be summoning the courage to use your voice.

One night after dinner you approached Joel in the living room as he poured himself a shot of whiskey. You cleared your throat to capture his attention.

"Joel," you announced, "I need to talk to you."

"Hm," he hummed without looking at you, seemingly unbothered as he pushed the cap back into the glass decanter.

You took a sharp inhale to steady your nerves. You can do this. "The rules. They aren't going to work."

Joel turned to look at you then, his brows creased. "What?"

"It'll affect everything. Like my job, Joel," you tried your best to sound assertive. "If I have to be home straight after school, I can't liaise with the other teachers. That means I might not be able to effectively teach the kids."

Joel nodded slowly, like he could see the merit in your point. "Schedule a meetin' with 'em once a week and I'll allow ya an extra hour that day." He replied smoothly.

His solution was simple enough and it could work; you did not need much time to plan your lessons when you only taught part time. Thankfully Joel valued education and knew the importance of you being able to teach according to a proper curriculum. But when it came to the next issue of contention you weren't so sure he would understand its importance to you.

"A-and what about my friends?" You asked, slightly breathless. "How can I keep my friendships if I don't ever see them?"

Joel brought the glass in his hand up to his mouth and took a shot of the amber liquid, his eyes watching you the whole time. "Tell 'em you're livin' with me and got work to do at home. You don't need to be wastin' time with those girls anyway." Joel retorted with total indifference.

Vexation and irritation bubbled in your guts at his words. You balled your hands into tight fists and narrowed your eyes at Joel. Kate and Rhi had both shown up on your lunch break at work on different days, curious about where you'd been lately and if you were okay. You were convincing enough to make some excuse about being busy with your work load now you were filling in for Mrs. Thompson, but you felt terrible for lying.

This whole thing was beyond unreasonable, you wanted to yell. Once, in the not so distant past, you would have agreed to such conditions without dispute. You would have easily adhered to whatever conditions that would make Joel happy. But something had changed inside you. You were determined not to prioritise Joel's satisfaction over your own anymore. Not after the heartbreak he has put you through for so long.

"And if I tell them the truth?" You questioned him, voice wavering just a little.

"Oh yeah? And what truth is that?" Joel asked with barely disguised derision in his tone. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side with an air of condescension. You hated the way he made you feel like a foolish little school girl who had been caught misbehaving.

"That...that I can't see them because you're forcing these conditions onto me." You squeaked, digging your fingernails into your palms. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you internally admonished yourself. Stay calm. "That you're just trying to control me."

Joel clicked his tongue. "These conditions are consequences of your own actions, sweetheart. I ain't forcin' anythin' on you."

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. He had indirectly blackmailed you into staying with him to keep Oscar safe and Ellie happy. How could Joel possibly contend that he wasn't forcing these conditions onto you? Was he so deluded that he couldn't recognise how obsessive his need for control over you was?

"But...I-I didn't even do anything wrong! I don't want to live with these rules," you stammered and shook your head vehemently. "I can't. Joel, you're making me."

Joel set his glass onto the mantle above the fire place and then stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head gently. "Now you listen to me, sugar, cos I already explained this and I aint gonna do it again."

Joel spoke calmly, his tone smooth and authoritarian and so confident. It simultaneously scared you and irritated you. "Ain't no use fightin' about this. You're mine. Nothin' is gonna change that. And you need boundaries. So it's best for the both of us that you just accept it."

"But why do I need rules?" You bristled, fighting to resist stamping your foot like a petulant child. "I'm not a child, Joel, I'm a woman...and-and you can't treat me like I don't have a say in anything!"

"Havin' some rules in place keeps you from bein' around bad influences and it keeps us strong." He narrowed his eyes at you and concluded pointedly. "Help keep you faithful."

"Joel!" You snapped in exasperation. "I did not cheat on you! Not with Oscar, not with anybody! So just...just stop it!"

You hated the shrill edge to your voice but his obstinate resolution was starting to unravel your self control. Joel's expression darkened suddenly and he took a step toward you.

"Then why were you meetin' with him in secret like that?" Joel boomed, the dimple in his cheek visible for a brief moment. "Why were you hidin' that from me if you weren't fuckin' him?"

"I wasn't fucking him." You insisted with composed sincerity. "And our meetings weren't in secret. It was just the only time we were able to spend any time together."

You inwardly cringed at the sound of your own explanation, knowing full well that Joel would misinterpret your reasoning as still being deceptive. He scoffed and shook his head at you.

"I just didn't tell you, Joel," you said with a defeated sigh. "Because you wouldn't let us be friends if you knew. Because you hate any other man speaking to me, even when it is innocent."

You braced yourself for another argument and whatever insulting accusation Joel chose to throw at you next. You were already so exhausted by it all. You realised he will never be satisfied by your answers, will always succumb to the insecurity and distrust that plagues his heart. It pained your own heart to finally comprehend this, to become cognisant to the hopeless reality of this relationship.

But Joel didn't argue against this point. Instead, his shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy stuttering sigh, as if he was just as worn out as you were. Maybe he was.

"Why is he so special?" Joel lamented, his deep voice sounding hushed and wounded.

"Oh, Joel...I've been so miserable," you replied tiredly. You cupped your cheeks in your palms and sighed wearily. "And Oscar actually cared about me. He actually listened to me and tried to help me. That is what made him a good friend. That is why he is special."

"I didn't care for you? How could you say that?" Joel hissed indignantly, the evident pain in his sorrowful brown eyes actually making you feel an ounce of guilt. "All I've been doin' is care for you."

No! your mind suddenly screamed. You beat me with a belt and raped me!

"If you truly cared for me, you would have listened to me when I said stop or no." You responded softly. "You wouldn't have done what you did in the first place, Joel."

Joel's adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth as if to speak but just closed it again, seemingly lost for words. His silence encouraged you to challenge him further.

"Did you ever care enough to listen to me then?" You questioned him cooly.

"Thought we moved passed that," Joel muttered as he crossed his arms and looked away from you.

"You might have, but I haven't. And I don't think I ever will, Joel."

He was silent for a while, seemingly lost in his thoughts, his jaw ticking.

"How many times do I have to apologise?" Joel asked in a low, bitter tone. He rolled his eyes to look back at you and you could see the spark of aggravation in his orbs. "What else do I have to do to fix it?"

"You can't say sorry and expect me to forget everything you did to me!" You spat at him, dropping your hands from your face and clenching your fists once more. "That isn't how things work, Joel!"

"I know, alright?" He huffed. "I know."

You couldn't hold back the tears that were beginning to well in your eyes. You had held on for so long without crying, you stupid girl, you chastised yourself. The confrontation was slowly wearing you down, removing your armour bit by bit to expose the tender flesh of your emotions.

"So what do you want from me?" You asked dolefully, shrugging your shoulders in a weak gesture to indicate the hopelessness you felt. "To say I love you and act like nothing happened?"

Joel sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands, rough skin rasping over the scruff of his beard. He stared at you with forlorn hooded eyes and visibly gulped before he spoke.

"I don't know, alright? All I know is I love you," he whispered. "Just want you to love me, too."

Why did you wait so long? You wanted to scream in his face. Why did you hurt me so much and ruin everything?

"Joel," you murmured as you rubbed your temples with your fingertips. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't be keeping me here as a prisoner. You wouldn't be hurting me even more by doing this."

"I ain't hurtin' you - I'm protectin' what we have. I can't lose you." He took a step toward you and outstretched his big hand to you, imploring and supplicating. "I won't lose you."

You just stared at him and slowly shook your head, despondence and fatigue etched into your soft features.

"It's you I need protection from, Joel."

The impact of your words hit Joel like a knife being plunged into his chest cavity and piercing his heart. He took a step backward as his face contorted with hurt and shock, mouth falling open and eyes burning with betrayl. You had never seen him like that before - stung and vulnerable - and it genuinely surprised you to see him so perturbed.

This time, however, you didn't feel bad. You were speaking the truth - your truth.

The air in the room had suddenly become stifling, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the space. Your eyes were locked on each other and you felt all the muscles in your body tense, prepared to face the onslaught of whatever Joel was going to do in response to what you had just said.

The moment seemed to last forever but then something appeared to click inside Joel's mind. There was a visible shift in his demeanour; the sadness within his eyes dissipated and the features of his face hardened back into its usual stoic scowl. You noticed his hands clench and unclench nervously by his sides.

"So you think I'm a monster or somethin'?" Joel growled. "Well I don't give a shit. I ain't gonna have you ruin our family over this bullshit, so you're gonna accept whatever I say and stop fightin' me on all this."

Ruin our family.

You closed your eyes for a second, the image of Ellie's smiling face flashing in your mind.

Oh, dear Ellie.

You opened your eyes once again and were met with the sight of Joel's morose face, with his mouth downturned and prominent bags under his eyes, looking every bit his age. You were truly struck by how unless this whole situation was; the pushing back, the arguing, the energy and emotions expended. You would never escape it.

"Okay," you said robotically, no hint of emotion in your voice. "Okay, Joel. I won't ruin our family. But I can't love you the way I did. I can't change that. So if I accept your conditions, you must accept mine."

Joel didn't bother responding to you. He just turned on the heel of his boots and stormed out of the bedroom, leaving you alone in the room with nothing but a somber silence in his wake.

You couldn't possibly guess that he didn't want to be near you in case you could see the tears forming in his eyes and begin to trickle down his cheek. He rubbed the corner of his eye with the back of his knuckle and willed himself not to cry.

The first time you walk down the main street of Jackson next to Joel seems surreal. You aren't even really sure why he insisted on walking with you this morning. His gloved hand clutches yours tightly as he leads you towards the school building where your teaching lesson is due to start soon. You struggle to maintain the pace Joel has set and you end up lagging slightly behind him, but his grip on your hand propels you forward through the thick snow covering the ground. You feel like a scolded child being reluctantly dragged along by her parent.

You don't even really care about who is out and around town to witness the unexpected sight of Joel Miller with a woman for the first time in his history of residing in Jackson. There is no sense of pride or joy in your heart at finally having Joel openly affirm your place in his life. You are not an equal partner, not a girlfriend or a wife; you are nothing more than property that he owns.

The grip of his thick fingers over yours solidifies this. Joel's hold is more like a warning than a gesture of affection; a caution for you to uphold a happy facade or else something could happen to you or Oscar, or perhaps even the both of you.

His hand swallowing yours serves to remind you that you are under his control, that it is Joel who protects, and that it is he who also bends you according to his will.

You turn your face upward to the sky. It is depressingly dull with dark grey clouds that appear heavy with the promise of rain. You like the rain and the nourishment it brings your garden, particularly in the spring, but spring seems impossibly far away right this minute. With the frosty air currently numbing your cheeks and splintering your lungs with each inhale you take, you feel like spring will never come. And perhaps it won't - perhaps your beloved plants and flowers will remain dead and suffocated under layers and layers of snow.

It is the kind of morning that makes you wish you were still snuggled in bed, safe and warm within a bundle of blankets and your favourite sweater. But you need to substitute for Mrs.Thompson today and you need to show up for the children who crave knowledge and who flourish under your tutelage. You need to fulfil this purpose no matter how defeated and dismal you truly feel.

You can always go back to bed after school, anyway, you reason to yourself. It's not like you'll be able to do anything otherwise. You can nap for a couple hours until you have to get food ready for the weekly family dinner tonight.

You almost trip over your own boots when Joel comes to an abrupt stop infront of the school.

"I'll see ya at home," Joel murmers before he presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. You just nod, feeling slightly disorientated. He gives your hand one last squeeze before turning around to make his way toward the stables. You watch the back of Joel's tall, board figure stalk away and round the corner into the neighbouring street. Once he's disappeared from your view you let out a soft sigh and your tense shoulders immediately slump.

You feel exhausted but you manage to push through the day. That evening you prepare the dinner table for Ellie's and Joel's arrival around 7.30pm. You arrange the bowls and cutlery in the usual places, mindful to set the larger bowl where Joel always sits. You hear the front door open just as you sit a pot of steaming soup in the centre of the table.

You put on a smile and walk out of the dining room into the living room to greet them. But it's not just Ellie's light hearted lilt and Joel's drawl that you hear; there's another voice amidst their chatter. There's a shuffle of boots and clunking, then they trail into the living room, still talking amongst each other. Then you spot the third mystery person walking behind Joel and your heart skips a beat.

It's Tommy.

"Hey there, little lady," he beams at you when he sees you. His dark eyes twinkle and his soft smile is warm and genuine. He's just as gorgeous as his older brother, and you feel your cheeks blush.

"Hi, Tommy," you give him a polite, shy smile. "How are you?"

"I'm doin' fine, what about yourself? Smells mighty good in here."

You can feel Joel's eyes on you, watching the interaction, but you pretend not to notice.

"Yeah, what's on the menu?" Ellie playfully nudges you with her elbow. "I'm starving."

"You're always starvin'," Joel grunts as he pulls off his gloves. Ellie rolls her eyes and unwinds the scarf from around her neck.

"How you manage to put up with these two is a mystery to me," Tommy chuckles. He smooths over his thick moustache with his thumb and forefinger and you can't help but marvel at how large and thick his hand is, just like Joel's.

"Can Uncle Tommy stay for dinner?" Ellie asks, looking between you and Joel.

Similar to Ellie, there's something about Tommy that seems to soothe you, to inspire a carefree gaiety inside your soul. Tommy seemed to have that affect on people, you thought. He was also a good husband to Maria, a dedicated father to his children, and an overall devoted and fair leader of the community. You would love to have Tommy stay but you didn't want to seem too excited, lest Joel find your enthusiasm suspicious. So you just nod and say ofcourse.

"Well," Tommy murmers, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maria is visiting Mrs. Thompson with the boys this evenin'..."

"That settles that, then," Ellie slaps her hand on his shoulder. "What's that saying? The more the merrier, or some shit?"

Tommy barks out a laugh and gives Ellie's hair a playful tousle. You glance at Joel to gauge how he might be feeling; he seems impassive as eyes shift from you to his brother, but then he nods.

"Plenty to go 'round." Joel concedes. He tosses his gloves onto the mantle. "Ellie, go wash your hands first."

Ellie makes a fuss but follows Joel's orders and goes to the bathroom. You pop back into the kitchen to gather a bowl and cutlery for Tommy while the brothers take a seat at the table. You appear back in the dining room and place Tommy's bowl and spoon on the place mat infront of him.

"Thank you, ma'am," Tommy gives you another winning smile. "I appreciate your kindness."

You chuckle and sit down on the chair opposite Joel. "You're welcome, Tommy. It's nice to have you."

Joel remains silent and rigid as you abd Tommy exchange small talk. Once Ellie comes bounding back into the room you begin serving everyone their portion of lamb stew and buttery mashed potato.

Joel spends the whole of dinner quietly observing the interaction between you and Tommy, trying his best to appear dispassionate and unconcerned. He cannot help feeling envious of his brother for how effortlessly he's able to get you talking. You are still your normal bashful and feminine self, but you are different. You are more like you were when Joel first met you - more bubbly, a little more chatty, and so inquisitive. It is unnerving for him to witness.

Joel surreptitiously studies the way your mouth curls into a sweet little smile and the shy way you cover your mouth when you titter at something silly Tommy says. Joel cannot remember the last time he saw you so animated like this. The realisation makes him feel both resentful and sad. He should be the one making you giggle. He should be the one you ask questions to. He should be the one who incites you to speak about your work and aspirations with such gusto and passion.

When dinner is finished Tommy, ever the Southern gentleman, insists on helping you wash and dry the dishes. He stands at the sink with his hands submerged in the soapy water and washes the bowls and spoons and cups while you stand beside him with a dish towel to dry them. Ellie sits on the kitchen countertop and entertains you with stories from her days work at the barn, and the kitchen is soon filled with laughter.

Joel doesn't join in. He watches from the shadows of the hallway for a while, seething with jealousy, hating how harmonious and domestic the three of you look together. He's jealous of how naturally Tommy slots into sync with you and Ellie, but he's also disturbed because there's something familiar about the energy around the three of you. Then it clicks for Joel.

Sarah. It's because of her.

Because Joel is reminded of all the nights he ate dinner with his daughter during her time on this earth. He is reminded of them sitting together at the dinner table sharing stories and jokes, how her laughter brought him so much joy, how her killer smile could wash away all his tension and stress after a hard days work. He is reminded of all the times he fumbled around in the kitchen trying to conjure something palatable to eat. He remembers how she once went weeks refusing to eat anything but macaroni and cheese. He can even remember the first time he taught her how to properly cook a steak medium rare, and how they both groaned with satisfaction when they took the first bite of their meal.

Seeing you and Tommy in the kitchen reminded Joel of how he and Sarah would always do the dishes together. He would flick soapy water at her as she dried, making her squeal and threaten to dunk his head into the sink. They would laugh and jest - just like the three of you now - and Joel felt like that may have been some of the happiest times in his life.

But Sarah's voice was absent among the happy noise coming from this kitchen. And Joel himself is not part of it, either. The version of himself who could once revel in such carefree gaeity was dead. The man Joel was now didn't deserve to be happy, anyway.

He slunk further down the hallway and disappeared to go pour himself a drink.

•••••

Soon it is time to say goodnight. Ellie pulls you into a hug and thanks you for a delicious dinner. Tommy tips his head to you and smiles warmly.

"Thank you once again for dinner, darlin'. You're a damn good cook. Maybe you can give Maria a lesson one of these days," he chuckles and gives you a wink.

You giggle and absent-mindedly fidget with the cuff of your sweater. "You give me too much credit, Tommy."

"Oh, hush now. I give credit where credit is due," he declares. "My brother is a lucky man."

Tommy crosses over to where Joel stands impassively by the fire place with his arms crossed. He pats his brother's shoulder and they exchange some words about their next patrol shift then walks to the door. As he pulls his jacket on, he addresses you once last time.

"By the way, that paint you were lookin' for a while ago for that shelf - I found more of it in one of the sheds. I'll drop it off next week, that alright?"

"What?" You huff a little laugh, incredulous. "Tommy, that was ages ago. You actually remembered that?"

Tommy nods. "Yeah, sure. I know how much it meant to ya."

"Thank you, really. Thank you so much."

Joel can see how touched you are by whatever Tommy's done for you, your surprise and gratitude evident in the blush of your cheeks and the girlish way you clasp your hands together. He knows Tommy is just being Tommy, that his brother isn't purposely laying on the charm to make him jealous. But it doesn't stop the bitter wrath prickling at the nape of his neck.

"Come on Ellie, I'll walk ya," Tommy beckons the girl with a jerk of his head. Ellie gives you another quick hug and they both bid you and Joel a final goodnight before they trudge out of the door.

A heavy silence falls upon the house once the pair have left. You have already plopped onto the couch with one of your books, settling in for another night of barely talking to him in favour of whatever adventure is happening in your story.

Joel remains standing at the fireplace watching the flames dance, tossing up whether it is worth asking about. He wishes it didn't bother him, wishes he could give less of a shit that his younger brother can make you smile so easily. He tries to drown the angst and curiousity swirling inside his belly, telling himself it doesn't matter, to just forget it, but he can't. He so desperately wants to provide for you, to be the only man you rely on to fulfil your needs and wants, to keep you protected from the harsh world and the people in it. It makes him feel like a failure to know that another man fulfilled one of your wishes, even if it was his own brother, even if it was something as simple as paint and a fucking shelf.

"What's that shelf Tommy was talkin' about?" Joel finally breaks the silence.

You look up from the novel splayed infront of your face and frown. "Huh?" It takes a second for you to register what he's talking about. "Oh. The paint?"

Joel nods once.

You give a little shrug. "There's a book shelf at school that I really love. One day I mentioned to Maria that I wished I could paint it a particular colour. This pretty kind of teal shade that I have always loved, since I was a kid."

Joel notices the flash of sadness pass over your eyes at the mention of your childhood.

"Anyway, she told Tommy. He came to the school to ask how he could help." You sigh softly. "It was a long time ago now, but he remembered."

It pains Joel even more to recognise that this is the most you have spoken to him since that big argument. He clears his throat and looks at you with doleful eyes.

"Why didn't you ever mention that to me?" He asks gently. "'Bout the shelf, or the paint?"

You stare at Joel and cock your eyebrow quizzically. "You're actually asking me this, Joel?"

Joel frowns and turns his body to face you directly. "Yeah, I am. Why did my brother know about it and I didn't?" He knows he sounds pathetic, childish. He hates himself for it, but he cannot stop himself.

"Joel," you almost seem to groan. "I don't want to talk about all this again."

"I wanna know," Joel says with conviction.

You close your book and toss it next to you on the couch. You glare up at him. "When did you ever care what I had to say, Joel? When did you ever want to hear about something like a random book shelf at my work?"

Joel doesn't have an answer. He just stares at you, ashamed and lost for words.

"Your brother knew because he was interested enough to ask," you snap. "I'm a person too, you know, Joel."

"What?" He mumbles in confusion.

"I'm a person," you repeat the words slowly, bitingly. "I'm not just your toy, or your maid, or whatever."

"I know," he whispers.

"You don't even know anything about me," you whisper back despondently.

"Ofcourse I do," Joel scowls.

You just shake your head and sniff, sounding like your sinus is clogged with unshed tears. You turn your head away from him and stare at the hardwood floor in gloomy silence. For what seems like several minutes the only sound within the room comes from the quiet cracklingly of the fire. It is soothing in a way, along with the cosy warmth it emits, and you find yourself being lulled to sleep on the couch. Just as your eyelids flutter shut Joel's voice cuts through the peace.

"Forget Me Not."

Sleepiness has made your mind sluggish and you don't quite understand what he has said. You blink slowly and scrub at one eye with your fist.

"...What?" You mumble.

"The flower. It's your favourite."

You don't respond or even look at Joel but your heartbeat picks up speed. How did he even know what your favourite flower is? You don't recall ever telling him.

"You like green tea best in the mornin'," Joel utters. "Peppermint at night."

He is right, but you still don't say anything in return.

"Your momma used to tie ribbons in your hair when you were a little girl," Joel states softly, his expressive brown orbs roaming all over your fragile form. "'S why you like to wear 'em still."

Joel's intention was to prove how intimately he knows you, but in reality his words spark something vicious and defensive inside your soul. You pull yourself up from the couch and snatch your book up.

"I don't want to hear this!" You growl at him. "Just leave me alone!"

Joel strides over to you and blocks your escape into the hallway. He looks down at you, sober and resolute. "I know you better than you think, babydoll."

"I said leave me alone," you snap, glowering up at him. You shove at his chest but his body stays solid and unmoving, far too powerful for your small hands to have any impact upon.

"I'll never leave you alone," Joel snaps back. "And from now on, you need anythin', you come to me and me only. I'm the only person you rely on, you understand? Not Tommy, not anybody. Just me."

You scoff contemptuously and try again to shove past him. "Yeah, sure Joel, whatever you say."

"Better watch that smart mouth," he growls, but still steps aside to let you pass by into the hallway. You quickly ascend the stairs and Joel follows close behind you. You cross the landing and make your way to the bathroom, but just as you turn the door knob Joel swiftly wraps his hand around your wrist. He pulls you back into the hall and stands directly infront of your line of vision, determined for you to see and hear him.

"I mean it," he grunts. "I'm the only one you need."

"I don't need you, Joel," you hiss at him. "And I don't want you, Joel, not this cruel man you've proven yourself to be. I will never be happy with you again."

An uncontrollable, primal fury surges through Joel and he suddenly smashes his fist into the wall next to your head, busting a hole into the drywall and sprinkling plaster debris over the rug. You scream and scurry into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind you.

Joel grits his teeth as he flexes his hand, the split skin of his knuckles already bloody and smarting. He heaves rapid breaths through his clenched teeth, his chest expanding with each inhale.

He hears you sobbing heavily through the wall and the woeful noise is enough to shatter through the bubble of animalistic wrath blinding him. Fuck, now you are terrified and crying. Again.

Joel growls and descends the stair case to go to the kitchen and clean his hand. He turns on the cold water and runs his knuckles under the stream.

It isn't his fault, he tells himself. You goaded him and had to fucking talk back.

He dabs at the blood with one of the dish rags and watches a red stain bloom on the soft yellow material. He grumbles and cleans the powdered drywall from his skin.

He'll let you cry it out. You won't have such a smart mouth after that, he's sure.

Joel finishes cleaning up the back of his hand and dries it with a dish towel, unbothered by the familiar sting of freshly sliced skin.

All he wanted to do was provide for you and take care of you, but you had to ruin everything.

Joel swaggered into the loungeroom and grabbed the decanter of whiskey from the mantle. He was going to get shit faced and knock himself out. He wanted to forget the hateful ferocity of your words. The grief for what he has ruined. The mourning of what could have been. And most of all, the unbearable absence of his daughter Sarah.

Joel had laid down the law of his house without any room for compromise. It had been so long overdue, after all. His rules are straight forward and fairly simple, uncomplicated in their shared objective to isolate you from everyone else, especially Oscar.

In his mind Joel is justified in drastically limiting your freedoms. He had made the mistake of allowing you too much independence, of granting you too much trust, only for him to catch you in the arms of another man.

Joel had always liked seeing you scared; he took pleasure in your wide panicked eyes, how your hands trembled, how you begged so helplessly. Your fear excited him and made him feel powerful. But the choked sob you let out when Joel threatened to kill Oscar had only infuriated him. He found no satisfaction in your reaction, only anger.

He was angry because of the agonising realisation had dawned upon him so abruptly at that moment - the reality that he was no longer the only person that resided in your precious heart. How had Oscar infiltrated your bubble of introversion so quickly? What made you choose to accept him into your heart?

Oscar talked with you, you had argued pathetically. So what? Joel was well known for his distaste of conversing more than the bare minimum of what was considered good etiquette. But he could talk to you, properly and intellectually, if that's what you really fucking wanted. But that didn't matter so much right now. What mattered was Joel retaining control over your relationship and keeping Oscar the fuck away from you.

He should've never listened to Tommy and his bullshit psychology - he and his bitch of a wife were so different to you and Joel, their connection no where near as deep and profound as what you two shared. No words could adequately describe just how special that binding tie was. No one else could understand.

Tommy had been wrong. Oh so wrong. Being tender and patient with you hadn't worked - you had still sought out Oscar for your emotional needs while denying Joel any kind of deeper intimacy. What was the point of trying to be gentle and not hurt you when you had hurt him so badly? Nothing Joel did seemed to help make you happy. You were never satisfied.

He has given you so much of himself. Parts he did not know still existed inside his black heart, pieces of him that he thought had been strangled the moment Sarah had died in his arms. He has shown you so much vulnerability, shared sacred parts of his soul and a depth of intimacy that he has never revealed to anyone before. He had offered you his love and protection.

Joel has given you so much and yet you make him feel as though it is not good enough. As though he is not good enough, that he is inferior to someone like Oscar, or his brother Tommy. You have made him feel pathetic and weak. You have made him feel out of control, something that he has not experienced for a very, very long time.

It scares Joel to his core.

The longer he thought about it, the more irritated Joel was becoming. Just what the hell was it going to take for you to stop moping and forget about Oscar? What was it going to take for you to just accept your fate and get over everything? What more could you possibly expect of Joel? Why couldn't you and he start over again, go back to the way things used to be? When you were so sweet and meek, just his good little girl.

Amidst the rejection and aggravation and betrayl was something else stirring inside Joel; something more venomous, more baleful than anything he had ever associated you with. It was an emotion that Joel was very familiar with, one that had enabled him to endure and survive for so long in a world gone to hell.

Hatred.

Hatred for you for all that you had taken from him just to throw back in his face. For you to yell at him that you don't need him, that you don't want him.

Hatred for your selfishness and insolence.

Hatred for you giving him so much pleasure and kindness only for you to retreat and withhold from him completely.

It made Joel want to hurt you in any way he could, to thieve every last bit of dignity and autonomy from you, to show you just who the fuck you were dealing with. He was Joel Miller, after all, and you had no idea just what he was capable of.

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itsgrimeytime · 1 day

Text

The Lover || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

1...

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

The Sequel to The Nurse (my series masterlist)

Summary: A long time ago, you were Rick Grimes's nurse. Now, you loved him, and he loved you. Or at least that's where you left it off. With Judith safe in your arms and Rick distinctly not by your side, you could only hope his feelings stayed the same because they sure as hell did for you.

TWs: blood, inhumane rage (you're kinda crazy in this one ngl), threatening someone's life, vague mention of murder, blades, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: heyyy, it's finally here!!! it's going to be less of Rick in this one for obvious reasons. At least for now. Looked it up and it took 10 days to get to Alexandria for the main group, so I'm going to be writing those for these first few chapters. Thanks for reading!!!]]

It had been two days since the prison -you could only count by the sun setting and the nightfall. You were running on autopilot, step after step; periodically feeding Judith because she wasn't crying anymore. You hadn't had any run-ins, not yet.

Your hand clenched against your side -tight on your axe. It was still the same fire-axe that you'd gotten at the hospital -blood ingrained in the blade and handle from your entire journey. You weren't sure it would wash off at this point.

It felt like a part of you now. Always there, familiar.

Like Rick had, or Carl, or Judith, or anyone at the prison-

You swallowed, they're alive. You know it.

You didn't, but it helped to think so.

If they get hurt, they've got Hershel, they'll survive, you assured, trying not to let the guilt bubble into your stomach.

Judith fussed a little then -the gentle pull of her eyebrows and squirming in her makeshift carrier. Your hand immediately came to soothe, smoothing against her head -gently whispering to shush her.

You were hidden away in a shack -somewhere along the road. It provided shelter, and that was enough for now. Pulling out a can of... something, you couldn't remember, you stabbed your knife through and opened it up. You'd been rationing, only eating when necessary; in the case that Judith's formula ran out, you wanted to keep her fed.

The first thing you'd noticed was the snap of a branch, just a single branch. It singled out in the night. Walkers would break more than one, you remembered.

Judith was asleep on your chest, you didn't dare move her; she was safer with you than without you. You knew that well.

Carefully, you put the can by your side, gently as if to not make any other sounds that would bring attention to you. You or Judith. All that you were running on was adrenaline, and just the urge to protect, protect, protect-

If whoever this was tried to lay a hand on Judith-

You carefully stood up, pulling your axe off the ground with you. Swinging it around in your hands, it was so familiar now. Attached to you. You weren't sure how to feel about it, but you couldn't really feel anything now -your mind was focused. Shelter, food, water, and Judith.

There was nothing else in this world for you. Not now.

With a breath, you slammed the door open -axe at the ready. You didn't catch on anyone at first, but then you heard it again and spun on your feet. You eyes settled on someone.

Their hands were shaking, but they held a gun to you -metal tip pointing and glinting in the sun. Your jaw tightened, as you gnawed on your lip, hands solid on your axe.

"Drop it," they spoke, but their voice was shaky. You could physically see their hands shake, something in your stomach steeled, "-or I'll-"

"I wouldn't," you remarked, bitterly -not an ounce of anything but anger melding along your words.

They pressed their lips together, seeming to gain a little more confidence, "I have a gun, I will shoot-"

You spoke again, tone sharp -something flashing behind your eyes.

"I wouldn't."

Protect, protect, protect-

They stared at you, something smoothing through their eyes. Something flashing, their lip trembling ever so slightly. You didn't flinch.

"What, all you have is an axe-"

"Did you know-" you hummed carefully stepping toward them, voice measured and careful, "-there are 1.5 gallons of blood in the human body?"

They snapped their lips shut, as you roamed closer, pressing the blade into their space. Tantalizingly close to their neck.

"And it only takes one little slice to lose it all?"

They froze for a moment, just one second. And you reacted instinctively, elbowing the gun out of their hands. It flew off into the bushes (snaps of branches telling you it did), but you kept your eyes solely on them. Lips pressed into a thin line.

"Look," they retracted, something pleading in their eyes, "-all I want is some food. I just- I haven't eaten in days."

You stared at them, axe still close to their neck -the vein that would do the job. You knew that, you'd read it in textbooks, seen bloody hands try to apply pressure, but it was too quick. Too fast.

"You threatened to kill my baby," you tsked, jutting the axe forward a little more. It was just a hair away and something in you was angry, so angry. Just an inch, just an inch, just an inch-

Protect, protect, protect-

"I wasn't going to! Not really, I just-" their eyes sunk to the blade, teary now, "-Please, I... I don't want to die like this-"

Protect, protect, protect-

You took a heavy breath in, eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching your axe so tight your knuckles were white. Something in you recentering, coming back to earth.

You pulled back the axe, but didn't let up your stare, growling, "If you ever try and hurt her again, I'll snap your spine myself."

They swallowed, blearily.

Motioning to the shack, you spoke -sharply, "There's some leftovers in there, take them."

They scrambled then, for the can, but you took pause a second. Carefully putting your axe back in place, you asked, "Have you seen a man and a kid? The kid, he... he wears a sheriff's hat."

The person seemed confused, maybe from so blatant of a switch, with the can gathered up in their hands. Still, they pressed their lips together, and answered, "I haven't."

Your heart stung, and you swallowed, nodding. With a breath, you set off to start walking again, it was morning -you needed to be productive in the daylight. But they stopped you.

"For your good, and the kid's," they warned, "-don't go to Terminus."

"Terminus?" You questioned.

"You're heading that way," they continued, eyes portraying a seriousness, "-they say it's a safe place. It's not. Don't go there."

"And," you breathed out, "-where should I go?"

They seemed to pause, scanning you over, "I don't know for sure, but I hear there's a place called Alexandria. It's good there, safe. Safe enough for a baby."

Your eyes darted down to Judith, still sleeping soundly against your chest. Your hand came up to rub against her hair -smoothing it down in place. She was your whole world now. If it was safe for her, it's where you'll go.

"Why aren't you there?" You questioned, "-If it's safe?"

"Looking for someone," they answered -briskly.

"Me too," you took a shaky breath in, your hands were shaking by your sides, "-I'm sorry about-"

They shook their head, cutting off your words, "It's your kid, I'd do the same."

You nodded once solidly, "Thanks."

They didn't say a word, and you decidedly moved forward. Keep moving.

They're alive, they're alive, they're alive-

You ended up near a few stores -walkers roaming around the strip.

You'd been keeping your eye out for signs, you saw them a lot. Different places offering safe havens, you hadn't seen one for Alexandria yet though. Had seen one for Terminus, and you had the brief thought that maybe Rick had been there. Were they okay? Did they come back from it?

You swallowed, not wasting time thinking about it. You couldn't, not anymore. You had Judith, you'd focus on Judith.

Inhaling, you roamed along the strip, pulling your axe into your hand again at the few walkers who roamed nearby. There wasn't enough that it was concerning, but you still didn't like them being anywhere near you. Especially with Judith held to your chest.

Quickly disposing of the one right by the door (lodging the blade through its head), you slowly made your way inside. It had a glass exterior, but all of it was smashed; it cracked under your feet, as you kept a hand on the back of Judith's head -just in case. The store, what looked to be some sort of convenience store, was raided pretty heavily only a few cans of what looked like alphabet soup on the food shelf.

Without hesitation, you took off your pack and shoved the cans into it. You didn't have much space, not with all of Jude's stuff, but you worked with what you had. Only finding two water bottles, you stashed one away for bottles and the other brought to your lips, before shoving it away.

You went through a few shops like that, some novelty shops with little trinkets and toys (you took just one for Judith), some snack shops where the aisles were completely cleaned out. And then, you stumbled upon a clothing store.

You stared at it, a little dumbfounded.

It was relatively untouched, sans the broken glass along the front. You figured that clothes were that important in the grand scheme of the apocalypse, so maybe it had just never been raided. Wanting to, one, get out of these clothes and, two, get some extra fabric for bandages, you neatly stepped inside.

You ended up finding an assortment of clothes, and for once you actually got to pick. Grabbing a bag off the floor that could hang across your chest, you filled it with fabric (including little onesies you'd found). And right then and there, you stripped down, slipping both new clothes on you and Judith.

It was refreshing, not really like a shower would be at this point but... close enough.

Slowly exiting, you took out two more walkers and continued out of the street -generally in the same direction the stranger had provided you with. You were just going by roads and by paths. Assumedly, if this place was safe, it would be some kind of substantial building.

Like the prison was, your mind chimed. You bit back the bile in your throat.

It went on that until night fell, there was no shelter nearby, so you continued on foot. Not that you'd sleep anyway, especially with Judith. You couldn't chance a wink.

It was the early morning then, and you felt the heaviness in your eyes. But you'd experienced much, much worse. You were kind of running a little on the adrenaline of everything. That being said, you had slept a little.

You'd found a house, boarded up. For safety reasons, you walked all the way up the stairs to the furthest bedroom and locked the door. You woke up to Judith crying and hadn't slept since.

What you hadn't expected, was to see two men walking along the road -crisply dressed and oddly clean. You hid behind a tree, peeking out at the two of them -they were talking about something.

"I think we'll give it another few days."

"How many?"

"Maybe two," one of the men spoke, "-we have to get back to Alexandria at some point-"

You stilled, hands brushing up against the bark of the tree. It scraped your fingers a moment.

You tailed them for a bit, watching what weapons they had (if they did) and figuring out what they were doing in general. They seemed to be limited to this area, like they were expecting something or maybe watching something, you didn't really know. They didn't say much.

You waited for them to completely let their guard down. Realistically, you could've taken them, probably. But you didn't chance anything, not with Judith; if you died, she would have nobody. Or at least, right now she would.

It was later in the day, lunch maybe based on the fact that they were eating. One's back to you, you realize this to be the perfect moment. You could take a hostage and demand answers.

Gently kissing Judith's head, you took a deep breath.

And you acted instinctively, pulling out your axe, and jumping behind him. With one fluid move, you pulled your axe in front of his neck. The vein, the vein, the vein-

The other man jumped, "Shit-"

"Don't move," you warned, and the man stalled in place -hands gently raised in the air.

He looked so unaffected from the world, how was he even-

"What do you want from us?" He nearly pleaded, and something in your resolve faltered but you stayed firm, "-Food? Weapons? We- Shit, take it all-"

You pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to control your emotion. Judith, Judith, Judith-

"Where is Alexandria?"

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #the nurse #nurse!reader #doctor!reader #the lover

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ciematis · 13 hours

Text

cunt. starring baji, chifuyu

content warning: Aye this shit is evil. FTM misgendering- reader ‘passes’ but Baji is very diminutive of/disrespectful of his identity in this. Chifuyu is his accomplice. They are not good in this lol. Rape rationalizations, Dacryphilia (Chifuyu). Sadism (Baji). Hard non/con, reader uses he/him pronouns but Baji will refer to him as a female. degradation/humilation. Implied bajitora. Lots of cursing (fucks and shit, mostly). Wishing for death (brief ment).

Reader is referred to as: Man, Slut, Whore, Girl. Bitch. Boy.

Readers genitals referred to as: cunt/pussy, boypussy (1), clit/clitty. (small adjective) penis. Dick. Cock.

“What a fucking cunt.” Yeah. You could say the same thing.

He pinches your clit cause you got too much attitude on your face. Brows too furrowed, lip too thick. Makes you look like a man. “I am a grown fucking man!” Yeah, you say that, but this pussy ‘tween your legs got Baji thinking a little different.

It’s juicy and fat. Clit a mimicry of the soft thing dangling between his legs. It looks cute in the light when your legs are open long enough.

Flicks your little clitty and you squirm and writhe and he has to hold you down by your neck cause you won’t stop fighting him. That’s okay, though. He hasn’t gotten any in a while, can’t promise he won’t cum quick.

“You wanna run around with gangs with this shit between your legs? Look! Pussy so fat it fucking dangles, y’all.” He announces to the crowd of one, your scowl deepening even as the heat seeks to melt your facade. He grips your calf and lifts your leg too wide, your thigh tensing and jerking painfully.

“Pussy like that… just begging to get fucked.” You mourn the loss of your dignity, your hands leaving the iron cable at your throat and darting to your shirt, fingers plucking at the dangling end to drag it over your delicates. Baji doesn’t have enough hands to stop you, but he doesn’t seem to care, looking towards his blonde friend.

“Ever seen boypussy, ‘Fuyu?” Chifuyu still hasn’t entirely grasped what’s happening.

You’re from somewhere else. Different gang, probably. But you’re dressed down right now, sweatpants and hanes shirt and jacket, windbreaker. Baji mentioned a favor he had to cash in on. There was an apartment, polite old lady in the lobby, slow elevator. Hallways with The Shining carpet, this potent bad feeling,

Now you, bent in half on your own bed. Granted Baji’s doing most of the work, but it makes Chifuyu uncomfortable watching you contort that way. You’re all lines and edge and box and square. You got a little plush though; nice thighs, cute ass, tummy …

He’s gotten ahead of himself.

“Ah—No, Baji-san.” He comes closer at the curl of Baji’s finger. “Well get the fuck over here, then. Hold hi— ” Baji’s lip raises like he’s all boxer and bully, like he’s got another fucking stupid idea,

“Come hold her still, dumbass.” You buck at the accusation, suddenly so lively you actually clip his hip. Dumb bitch. His hand leaves from ‘round your neck and you take a deep breath, palms darting to cradle a crushed larynx.

He jams a finger up your pussy and you scream.

Maybe this shit is The Shining and you’re Missus Duval, because Johnny is here.

Fuyu is trying to kick off his shoes. How polite of him, you don’t think, as he clambers on the bed - grabbing your hands and forcing them back into fluff and blankets. Looks nervous; but not as much as you are. You’re trembling, trying so fucking hard not to cry, and it makes Baji hard like fuck all else. He doesn’t afford himself a moment to contemplate the nuances of who you are—or to him, what. Finger’s going in and out, but it’s not like you make it easy. It’s like fingering a crack in concrete.

Any hole’s a goal, and hole-y fortune smiles upon him now, he thinks. He’s hit the fucking jackpot.

And you’re not ugly or anything. Just too boy. If you were in Toman he thinks he’d put in a special uniform request with Mitsuya. Any whore shouldn’t wear a skirt past ‘er thigh - easy access is important.

But you’d probably look like you’re playing dress-up. He’s got a slimmer wasteline than you, and he’s a man.

You’d make a really ugly girl. Need a bag over to head to fuck you— maybe shave off the happy trail, get your skin all nice, smooth. “Um, Baji?” Baji starts going for his belt. “Yeah? Fuck you want? Wanna use ‘er mouth? Go on, I don’t give a fuck,” Chifuyu blushes piggy-pink, then says, “Nah, It’s not that boss… Ah, you sure ‘Tora won’t get mad at you?” Baji sucks his teeth at the mention of that cock hungry twink. “Who givesa fuck? If rabbit wants the carrot, he shouldn’t be surprised he gotta share it.” Kinda likes when that slut gets a little loose anyway, Baji can throw his weight around, bust his lip and Tora’ll love it. Probably ask him to do it again. Lick the blood off his knuckles and then give him head, get him used to the smell of your cunt on his balls.

Baji’s tugging on his belt like some dickless virgin, can’t slide the leather out of place fast enough—

You’re still kicking, even if he’s got your leg tucked under his arm. Still think you got a chance, but you’re wasting all your damn breath on struggling, you don’t notice he’s got his cock out until he’s raising your hips to his height.

“F-fuck off!” The dog makes a face, showing you his top teeth all like “F-Fuck off!”, mocking you and shit. You’re not sorry you got caught selling on his block, but he’s making you a lot sorry he didn’t bash your brains in when he found you. You’d prefer the bloody nose, broken ribs, black eyes, punctured lung.

Anything but this, man, fuck—

“Dude.” “Dude.” “Listen to me! Fuck—stop! I’m, I’m sorry alright? Just d..don’t— ” Whine whine whine whine whine. Yap yap yap. Blubber lips; so scared shitless you can’t even keep your drool in your maw. He spits into your babbling mouth, and you choke on it. Baji gets a good grip on your cheek and shoves your face down into the bed, lines himself up. “Shut up bitch. Just take it.”

Pushes the tip in just a little. Just get a feel for it. “Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuck. Oh fuck yes. Damn bitch, you’re ti-ight, ah,” he moans, nails in your hips to keep you still. You buck like a filly with no home training, and he’s fixing to break you in, bareback.

It doesn’t feel good dry. He’s too big, the fucking bulldog, and you’re not high enough or drunk enough or fucked up enough to get your pussy wet. Or maybe your pipes are broken. That shit you take to make your jaw cut like that, flatten out your hips— that’d do the trick. Might not be an all bad thing though, he could probably cum in you as much as he wants.

“Sure you don’t want her mouth—fuck—‘Fuyu?” He pushes in a few more inches with a little wiggle of his hips. It burns. “Tight, whore’s tight.” Swallows, “I’m gonna break you in half if you don’t loosen up, bitch, c’mon,” Your back arches and your hands thrash in Chifuyu’s grip and you’re barking and fighting, and Chifuyu’s got this look on his face. Like he doesn’t know if he wants Yakisoba or Top Ramen. Baji doesn’t know what the fuck there is to think about. He’s muttering shit to himself, spine firepole straight and cheeks blushed beetroot red. “I don’t know Baji, I don’t think I can just… y’know?” You interrupt with a groan. He looks down at your heated face, tears skimming your cheeks. He doesn’t like how it turns him on.

Chifuyu shrinks away from that feeling physically, grip loosening a little on your wrists, and you take the opportunity to pull. Fuyu near hops out of his skin to keep you in place as your struggle revives itself.

“Nooo no no, fuuuck that! I’ll bite your dick off, I’ll fucking—ugh!” The dark hared demon maintains the pressure on your hips. “What you’re gonna do, is back up on my dick. Quick and easy, slut. C’mon.”

Baji wants you down to his balls. He’s only half-in and you hate it. Loathe it. Despise it. He’s humping with puppy precision and has wandering hands, grabs up on your ass, tits—lack thereof, only settling at the back of your knees to tug you forward. He brings his head up to meet his friend’s ambivalence, talking as if you’re not even there. “Fine. Fuck the slut or don’t ‘Fuyu, don’t matter to me. Better I get some than you, anyway.”

God you hate this guy's fucking guts. He better paralyze you after this shit, cause as long as you’re breathing, he’s destined to become dust, you will crush him and kill him and fuck him,

Fuck him,

ah. Your chest feels tight. All the scared that was chased off by your fight and flight surges back into you all at once, potent and suffocating. “S..stop! Please, just stop..” You sob, and Baji levels an unimpressed expression at you. “What happened to all that fight you cunt?” He taunts, jostling you. “You giving up on me now?” You respond with tears. Baji seems unmoved. Chifuyu’s heart aches bittersweetly, and his hard cock throbs in anticipation, watching the water delicately arc down the sides of your face, over your cheeks.

Chifuyu doesn’t hold you any more cause you just wanna hold yourself now. Hold yourself and cry, cry, cry. It’s freaking him out a little, watching a man be pushed to such distress, though of course he’s having more… conflicted feelings about it. If you get any louder, someone might catch you. With your pants down. Bent over. Cock five inches dick in your pussy. Imagine if your whole building knew you had one. You don’t know what they’d think - couldn’t fathom it, probably, and who knows; they might want a piece too!

Look at how much you hate this right now. You couldn’t handle the embarrassment. He won’t do that to you - won’t let that happen. You’ve already done enough, now it’s his turn. His hands move to the front of his jeans. “Ah, Baji… slow down.” The sound of pants unbuckling follows, denim sliding down thighs. A slow, incredulous laugh. “That’s what I’m talking about! Hold on Chifuyu… C’mon bitch. Move.”

Baji’s gets you into a better position, buddy ‘Fuyu lifting your chin and looking at the lost life from your face. Expression dazed? Stony even? Irrelevant, ‘cuz it scrunches up funny when he puts his tip in your mouth.

You groan in what sounds like pain as he slides into your throat, but it’s gotten much harder to hear you now. You’ve gone gentle, twitching and hiccuping and crying, but no kicking, no punching. Baji’s a little sad to see the grit go.

You’re still so tight - and it’s starting to hurt instead of feel good. He grits his teeth, reaches his thumb swipes daftly at your little soldier. God, he’s never seen anything like it. Your hood is huge! Your little clit really does look like pinky-sized penis. Kinda glorious, in a way- it wobbles and twitches when he pokes it and it makes you writhe- if you weren’t an in incompetent slut you might’ve been able to get some place with that kind of ambition. He strokes you slow, and Chifuyu starts pumping in and out of your mouth.

Drags his dick along your tongue and it feels like sandpaper. Your jaw opens up a little more for him, and inch by inch you take it, til his balls are resting against your nose bridge all nice like.

“Oh look at that, girlie’s getting wet…” Baji rubs your slick over his finger, pinkish pomade stretching a slim film over the tip of it. “Maybe that dick is doing something for her, Chifuyu. C’mon, don’t be afraid to fuck the slut now,” Baji slurs, getting comfortable with Chifuyu’s rhythm.

In and out. In, and out.

It’s agony. They seesaw with the coordination of blind mice, Chifuyu resting his cock in the snugness of your throat, not as eager to move as Baji - who’s doubled his ministrations on your dick, trying to get you to open up more for him. Antagonism and hatred bubbles to the surface mostly, but your cock has started feeling a little more sensitive since Dickhead’s learned to stroke it properly. Stuck his fingers in his mouth for lube and is using his whole wrist to work you, two fingers diligently stroking either side of your dick. You groan and Chifuyu feels it, full body tremble as he grabs for your chin, determined to stay in your throat. “Keep- keep doing that, feels nice… ah,” The last thing you give a shit is making sure he’s having a good time, but it’s not like you can help it.

“Yeah… That’s it. Open up for me, bitch. Gonna fuck your cervix - make you suck my dick clean after you make me cum. You’d love that, wouldn’t you, bitch?”

You hope you choke on it.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀TOKREV/BANNER ART by @/KenWakui

all content written by me @ciematis, is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.

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