#and if she punches him just for that know that its ok

[spadeprincesss]

I forget how to send asks so I hope this is the place

Who goes to who for advice or just to get things off their chest? Is there someone each wouldn’t go to for advice? Do they all go to Zelda? Like maybe blue wouldn’t go to Zelda for certain things/ all the time cuz idk maybe he wouldn’t want her to know he’s struggling with something? (even though we all know, she already knows when something’s up with her links)

This was sent in by @saltyskychild as a submission and idk how to answer other than editing so my answer below the cut!!!

Gonna start with a list of who goes to who for advice the most and the least!

Green:

Zelda - literally for everything, she knows all his secrets and he knows hers

Blue - to confide in, if he needs a shoulder to lean or cry on and Zelda isn’t available he knows Blue will have his back (and also beat up whatever made him upset)

Vio - for a practical response, he trust Vio and he knows that if he’s lost as to what to do then Vio will have an answer for him

Red - also for emotional support, but he can be a little reluctant because he hates that if he goes to vent and starts crying then Red will cry too and he hates making Red cry

Shadow - don’t get me wrong Green cares for Shadow a whole lot but he knows Shadow doesn’t understand his own feelings most of the time so he doesn’t want to burden Shadow with his own

Red:

Vio - Red often goes to Vio first to find a way to just rant without having to put his thoughts in order, Vio just lets him get it out before helping him sort it all out

Blue - Red LOVES Blue, but he hesitates to confide in him at times because he worries Blue will get a tad too protective and go straight to punching whoever made him sad. He IS Red’s first option when he needs optimal comfort though, like if he feels he needs a hug he will run to Blue (Blue gives the best hugs fight me)

Shadow - mostly to gossip LMFAO, Shadow also gives great hugs and always offers to kill anyone for him, Red has yet to take him up on the offer

Green - Red loves going to Green for comfort, he always listens intently and waits until he’s done to give him his input much like Vio does, Red just hates burdening him because Green is always so busy

Zelda - same as Green, hates burdening her but trusts her 100%, crying on her shoulder is a healing experience

Blue:

Red - Blue knows he can always go to Red, it’s always hard to get him to open up because of his pride but when he does open up it’s always to Red first. He knows Red would never judge him for being vulnerable so when it’s time to break down he only wants Red to see him

Green - Green is Blue’s closest friend, he trusts Green to always keep his secrets and give sound advice, but Green is also going to be his King soon and that makes him want to be even stronger so he can always keep Green safe from inevitable threats

Zelda - Blue has an immense respect for Zelda, as his friend, as a ruler, and as a person overall; he watched her rule her kingdom from a young age and keep the peace all six of them fought hard for. However as his queen he’s sworn loyalty to he tries not to bother her, keeps a respectable distance that Zelda herself tries to narrow

Vio - Blue and Vio’s relationship can seem complicated from an outsiders perspective, they poke and prod, they tease, but as they’ve grown and matured they’ve each learned when its ok to make fun and when you need to back off (it took a lot of trial and error throughout the years trust). Much like the others if Blue needs an answer to a question he will go to Vio, but it’s hard for him to open up emotionally to him because Vio always seems to kept together and he doesn’t want to fall behind

Shadow - to Blue Shadow is super fun to be around, they used to get into a lot of mischief together when they were younger and although they’ve matured a lot they find trouble one way or another. They’re both good friends, but Blue and Shadow are the masters of bottling things up so you won’t catch them having a heart to heart very often

Vio:

Shadow - the love of his life, Shadow knows things about Vio that Vio himself wishes weren’t true. Shadow sometimes understands what Vio needs before he even says it; and Vio doesn’t cry often but the times he has it’s been with Shadow there to put him back together

Red - Red is a great confidant, and Vio’s best friend, and although Vio considers himself the smartest in the group he knows Red has him beat in emotional intelligence, so when it’s his turn to be vulnerable (which he hates) Red helps him prepare for it

Zelda - Vio loves Zelda’s company, she’s smart and witty, yet completely honest with him; in Zelda’s rare free time they’ll sit and have tea together and talk about anything and everything. Vio would never admit it but Zelda is the funniest person he knows (he doesn’t want to hurt Shadow’s feelings)

Green - Vio trusts Green wholeheartedly, he’d put his life in Green’s hands in a heartbeat, but Vio doesn’t like how Green tends to hover so he hesitates to show any distress around him

Blue - as mentioned before Vio and Blue’s relationship is complicated, Vio doesn’t like showing vulnerability around Blue because he knows it makes Blue feel awkward seeing him as anything less than perfectly kept together. However not to say Blue wouldn’t be there for him, he would, they both would, but they try to keep strong in front of each other, it gives them a sense of normalcy and security they often need

Shadow:

Vio - just like it is vice versa, Vio often knows that Shadow is feeling down or overwhelmed before he himself knows, and although Shadow thought he would hate that he doesn’t. Vio is the one who taught him how to feel more than just anger and scorn, Vio gave him his first real laugh of joy, his first tears of sorrow and heartbreak, and even after all that Vio made up for it and taught him that he was able to feel all of that because he was in love. There’s no secrets between them

Zelda - to many people’s surprise Zelda is Shadow’s best friend, when he was first brought back he gravitated towards her, wanting to repay her for making him realize he wasn’t just a puppet of darkness but his own person. She took his emotions in stride and alongside Vio taught him so much about what he feels, so he confides everything to her

Red - Shadow and Red are very close, when Shadow needs a laugh or a smile he’ll rush to Red, he always has kind words for Shadow no matter what, confiding in his isn’t as easy as it is with Vio and Zelda but Red has always understood that and it helps put Shadow at ease. Again they gossip a lot together

Green - Shadow doesn’t go to Green often, much like Vio he doesn’t want him to overly worry and hover, but while he isn’t Shadow’s first option, he always brings a sense of belonging that means a lot to him

Blue - like mentioned earlier Shadow and Blue are masters if bottling things up, most of the time when Shadow goes to Blue it goes “hey this person made Red/Vio/Green/Zelda sad wanna go beat them up together?”

Zelda:

Green - that’s her soulmate, her other half; Green knows Zelda’s deepest fears and worries that she can’t allow herself to share with anyone else. He knows of her visions of the future and her past lives, of how much past wars haunt her, and he holds her through it all, when he proposed he promised to always keep her and her people safe, he would always be a hero worthy of her

Shadow - Zelda loves Shadow, you’d think she’d be scared of him given he was once her kidnapper, but as she’s always said “I wasn’t scared of you then and I’m not scared of you now”. Shadow is only slightly disappointed, but loves how she’ll ask for him when she’s overwhelmed, saying she needs someone who won’t try to sugarcoat anything from her. Zelda knows Shadow would move mountains for her and she would do the same

Vio - Zelda made Vio one of her advisors early on, she values not only his practical knowledge but his resourcefulness as well, they’ve spent many a late night pouring over documents together and its led to deep conversations. Vio takes as much workload off her shoulders as he legally can and she in turn forces him to take breaks

Red - Red is the little brother Zelda always wanted, as a single child who had to grow up too fast having someone so kind and fun to be around is something she cherishes so deeply. When she needs a hug she’ll seek him out, she knows she’ll always leave an encounter with Red with a smile on her face

Blue - Zelda knows she can trust all her boys with her life, and Blue is no exception, they don’t often confide in each other, but let’s just say that after a certain encounter that leaves Green in a terrible state Zelda learns Blue is not as cold hearted as she feared he was, and she’s made an effort to break down his walls. No knight should have to face monsters on their own, wether they be external or internal

So long story short these six idiots all love each other, but as you could have guessed they have certain people they go to for certain worries/situations. I can’t wait to share more on their relationships with one another!

[delicatlueur]

                    “   heard   about   your   date   with   lari   .       i   gotta   know   —   should   i   start   planning   a   ‘   save   lari   from   mona   ’   intervention   already   ?       i   mean   ,   i   get   it   —   the   whole   pilot   thing   ,   the   snazzy   outfit   and   the   killer   smile   …       but   just   so   you   know   ,   you   won’t   be   scoring   any   free   joyrides   out   of   this   ,   girly   .   ”       //       @rainforum

[ectonurites]

SUPER DARK TIMES (2017) DIR. KEVIN PHILLIPS

[woahajimes]

stoppp a costumer snitched on me wtf

[star-girl69]

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You���re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

[pursuitseternal]

Can i get prompt 20 with astarion x f!tav? Maybe she is in her fertile period and very horny or maybe carrying his child and hormones are messing up with her head (idk if u feel comfortable writing about it, i didn't find your rules. If you don't, ok) and Astarion offers his thigh for her to get off :))

“Helpful…”

UA Astarion x f!Reader | Smut Ask Prompts

CW: pregnancy smut

Thirty-six weeks… it’s been. Not that you’re counting. Each day is more taxing than the last… a blissful sort of torture, one you endure with a smile.

Most days.

But, days like today, you question your sanity and doubt your strength.

You couldn’t even count the sum of enemies you slaughtered. You brought down the Chosens of the Dead Three, you massacred an Illithid army….

And now the rapid flutter and kicking in your rounded belly is enough to lay you up for hours. The ache and stretch it is to bring a life into this world takes your literal breath away. Of course it doesn’t help that the child inside is Dhampir… and that its father is equally demanding at times, in different ways.

As you’ve grown heavier, rounder, Astarion has grown more attentive, helping around your cottage in the Underdark. Honestly, you sometimes scratch your head to watch the once selfish, snarky bastard of a Spawn become a snarky, helpful bastard of a Spawn.

There is one way he has relished helping you; the more demand the child inside you places on your body, the more demand your body has on you for… release. Sometimes it makes you cry, how madly you want Astarion to fuck you. Doesn’t matter where or when or for how long.

With that little problem, he’s more than eager to help. The further into your term you get, the worse the ache is, but the more exhausted you are too. Often some days, you just swallow the rage of lust that simmers inside you, but other days, he notices far too easily.

His nostrils flare as you enter your little study. He reclines on the little couch near the fire, the dim light dancing off the brightly colored spines of books around you. Scenting your need, he opens his arms, a familiar invitation to rest against him. You take the last few waddling steps, hands on your knees as you lower your rear to the couch. Your body fills the space between his legs, grimacing as it creaks under you.

Your cheeks are flush with need, and now they burn with embarrassment. “Gods I feel huge,” you bemoan, trying not to make the wooden frame of the couch groan under you again as you shift closer to your Vampiric love. “I can’t wait much longer, love,” you groan, leaning back against the cool hard planes of his torso.

“A few more weeks, and then our little one will be here,” he whispers into your ear, lips pressing a kiss, fingers pulling the stray wisps of hair back over your shoulder. “I’m sure she will be as fierce as you…”

“That’s your guess? She?” You give an airy laugh. “Well, she certainly is already fierce, given the amount of kicking, punching, and spinning that plagues me at all hours.”

A cool hand wanders over the taut curve of your belly, and instantly the child thumps against the pressure. You cry out at the pain, laughing at the look of surprise on Astarion’s face as your belly shifts with the babe’s movement within. “Incredible,” he breathes before looking at you, tilting your face into his by clasping your chin. “You’re… incredible,” lips murmur against yours. “Nearly impossible odds against us to create a dhampir, and here you are heavy with my child. Wouldn’t be the first time we were victorious against the impossible, hmm?”

“Knowing you, it won’t be the last, either,” you laugh, pursing your lips to kiss him slowly, sweetly. Hands work their way lower to the base of your belly, rucking up your skin to hunt down that source of your scent, that center of your searing need. Cool fingers on your skin give you instant relief, climbing their caress higher and higher until the dip inside you. Your aching spine bends even more, tilting your heavy hips to let him explore deeper.

Heavenly, his chilled thumb dances over your constantly hardened clit, his fingers cooling the ever-burning walls of your cunt. You hiss, riding his fingers. But your body is too laden to move like this. Your hips lock up, your back crying out in pain from your position.

And Astarion reads it in the smallest twinge of your face. Crimson eyes widen in concern, and he shushes you, soothing you as you are lifted up in his strong arms. “Ride me,” he purrs. But your hip joints already protest at the idea of being spread for his waist.

A pitiful whimper escapes you as you manage to pull yourself up on your knees on the couch to face him. Those silver brows furrow, hands at your waist to steady you… both of you. His sight roams over your flushed complexion and sweaty brow, and he guides you over his one long leg, propping it up to press beneath you.

“Use my thigh, my darling,” he murmurs, “your saviour is here.” He grins, raskish and conceited. That same line from when he once would reach out to you in combat. But you’re too pent up to tease, burning too hot with a need to find release with him in any capacity.

A hiss escapes your lips as you settle your folds on the bone of his thigh. Hard, corded muscle cools your wet and aching cunt as you grind. Slick soaks instantly through your panties and definitely into the fabric of his pants. But it only makes his hands grip harder into your hips. The fabric of your loose, flowing dress is no match for the iron clutch of his dexterous fingers.

“Fuck,” you curse, bracing your hands on either side of his head as you move faster. That new angle rubs your clit perfectly, the pressure of his thigh beneath you makes your mouth water with the promise of relief.

“Tch, language, darling,” he chides, slipping a hand beneath your skirts to find your clit with deadly precision, even blindly. “Do you want our babe to be born swearing like Karlach?”

You hang your head, laughing breathlessly until your ribs hurt. You didn’t know they could do that. A bite of your lip, and you grind faster, harder, savoring the way your soaked clothes rub over the aching nerves of your folds. Delicious friction that soothes the ache inside you.

And his finger, gods, it coaxes sighs from your lips, circles made to tease your nub from its swollen hood until you’re shaking.

“Come for me, my love…” he rasps as you hang your head closer to his honeyed lips. Words whispered to you a thousand times before seem to penetrate you deep in your belly, the fluttering of your child making you catch your breath. It grips your whole stomach, your climax. The whole swell of your belly tightens, and then tightens some more. Legs shake, and your whole body floods with the burst of pleasure you craved all day. Little strangled noises fall from your lips, until panting, you rest, unable to move off his leg.

“Where would you be without me, darling?” he purrs, slipping his hand deeper between your thighs, stroking and stretching your walls. Feeling them flutter on his fingers.

You huff a humored, tired laugh, “Not pregnant, for one.” He pouts back at you. “And two, I’d be lost without you my love.” You lean forward for a kiss, letting him hold you up. Letting him support you in all the ways he can.

[saraakpotter]

She is my girlfriend(BBC Sherlock x reader)

summery: 3 times Sherlock lied about being your boyfriend and the time he made it real warnings: i think none but there are spoilers on the show if you haven't watched it yet genre: fluff p.s: i added some scenes and changed some dialogues in some parts.

number one: during 'the blind banker'

you were a detective. you went on cases with Sherlock and John. now you had to go into Eddie Van Coon's apartment.

"they are new to the apartment aren't they?" you said.

Sherlock smirked: "yes, they are"

"how are you so sure?" John asked

Sherlock points at the name on the doorbell.

"maybe they changed it." John said.

"no one would do that" you said and Sherlock rang.

"hello?" a woman's voice said some moments later

"ummm, hello miss, we are your downstairs neighbors. i don't know if you know us." Sherlock said

"uh, umm, no. we are new" the woman said.

"well, me and my girlfriend forgot our key's in our apartment" Sherlock said wrapping one arm around you and you rose an eyebrow but quickly played along.

"oh, do you want me to open the door for you?" the woman asked

"yeah, ummm, could we come from your balcony?" Sherlock asked.

"the balcony?!" the woman said surprised and Sherlock nodded.

after she left you came out of his arms.

"your girlfriend?" you asked with a raised eyebrow and John chuckled.

"oh, please. it had to be believable." he said.

"uh-huh" you said

number 2: during 'a scandal in Belgravia'

"punch me in the face" Sherlock said

"punch you?" John said

"yes, punch me in the face. didn't you hear me?"

"i always hear 'punch me in the face' when you talk but it's usually subtext" John says

"yeah" you agreed and then, without another word you punched Sherlock in the face.

"i always wanted to do that" you joke

"ouch" Sherlock says "ok..." he starts but gets cut of by another punch by John.

"you are right! i think i did too" John says chuckling making Sherlock roll his eyes.

after forcing Kate, Irene's assistant to open the door you entered the house.

"who is the beautiful lady?" Kate asked with a fake smile

"oh, i..." you started but Sherlock cut you off

"she is my girlfriend" he says

"oh" Kate's fake smile fades and she walks to the room asking you to follow.

"i literally just punched you in the face" you whispered

"i asked you to" he says and you tried to hide your smile

number three: during 'the hounds of Baskerville'(i added this scene)

"hi" Sherlock says sitting next to a random costumer at the bar.

"hello, what's the problem?" the man said

"well, me and my girlfriend are here for vacation and we heard whispers about a huge dog in this town. in the woods." he says

"we made a bet. i said there is no such a thing and he disagrees" you played along

"so, you are here more often right? we wanted to know which one of us will win" Sherlock said placing a hand around your shoulders to make it look more realistic.

"oh, oh, this is way more than a dog. it's a monster. you should believe in it." the man says and then he turns to look at you "of course i don't want to scare a pretty woman like you"

you rolled your eyes and Sherlock glared at him and left before he could finish.

"ok, thank you for your help." he says trying to act unbothered.

"wow, you don't have to be so overprotective" the man say making you smirk and Sherlock roll his eyes.

number four: the real confession

"y\n?" Sherlock says walking to the room.

"yes?"

"i wanted to ask you something" he takes a deep breath.

"ok, what is it?"

"will you....can you....oh god!"

"Sher, just say it. its okay."

"ummm.....willyoubemygirlfriend"

"i'm sorry?" you raise an eyebrow

"oh god" he takes another deep breath "look, i'm not usually this nervous about anything but this really means to me and it has been on my mind for months....will you, be my girlfriend?" he finally says

"what?" you chuckle making him look more worried than he already is "you were nervous to ask me to act like your girlfriend? i have done that a lot of time. i'm actually starting to think it is real" you joke.

"what is it this time? a serial killer or another guy with mental health issues? maybe another naked woman?" you continue

"no....i....i mean be my actual girlfriend" he corrects

"what?" now you were really confused

"you see, all this time, when i acted like you were my girlfriend or acted jealous, it was because i liked the thought of that."

he waited for you to answer but when you didn't he continued.

"will you?" he said "be my girlfriend"

"this isn't a test to see how sentimental i am?" you asked half-jokingly

Sherlock chuckled "no" he said.

"then yes, Sherlock Holmes. yes, i will be your girlfriend"

[pedropascallme]

Crush

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: “The door opened and you turned toward it out of impulse. The man that was suddenly in front of you was Tess’s age, you guessed. Dark hair greying, sleeves of his denim button down rolled up to the elbows, face…mean. Joel Miller in the flesh.”

Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), age gap (reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is canon typical age), p in v sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), kinda mean!Joel, degradation, praise kink, orgasm denial/edging, I will sprinkle in queer Tess. If I missed anything please let me know!

Soundtrack: Crush by Ethel Cain

Joel had a problem with saying no.

He knew it made him seem soft, but he just couldn’t get it out. There was something about becoming a father that increased the negative connotation of the word; using it as a response meant hampering the needs of someone who trusted you. Or the wants. And it was always the wants he fell victim to. Sarah knew his weaknesses—she was his biggest one. A goldfish, extra dessert, a slumber party— “Sure, darlin’.”

Sarah was all he cared about, and he’d give her everything she ever wanted, even when it meant looking like a pushover.

But his window had passed; all will to live drained and replaced by pure survivalism. He pretended to get over it out of instinct, willing himself to push everything down in order to keep going.

He didn’t mind saying no anymore. He had nobody to say it to, anyway.

Maybe that made him a bad man.

~~~

You had befriended Tess by chance. She frequented the same spots you did—speakeasies and back allies, surrounded by men she wanted nothing to do with. 

At least you had that much in common with her.

Tess was older than you by maybe twenty years, and you knew nearly nothing about her. You knew her name, you knew what she did to get the extra rations she kept in her front pocket, and you knew she lived with Joel Miller. You had never pried about their relationship, and all you knew of Joel was that he was as gorgeous as his reputation was mean.

She had the tendency to be hot headed, there was no doubt that she could be rough, although you felt her fire was what drew you to her in the first place. Another person who had lost everything obviously wasn’t inaccessible, but it helped that she was one of the few women that you had seen around. When she had thrown a punch so hard it nearly shattered her hand, you grabbed her and walked her home while she stumbled along with you.

No matter how watered down the whiskey in the QZ was, enough of it would do the trick.

“You ok?” You grabbed her by the waist, catching her before she fell, distracted by the blood on her knuckles. You didn’t know if it was hers or the man whose bottom tooth she had loosened.

“Guys here are as bad as fucking raiders…” She mumbled, looking down at her feet. “Could’a walked home myself.” You knew she could’ve, but the thought of letting her stagger home by herself so close to curfew made you uneasy. 

Some things never change. 

“Didn’t want you to,” You kept walking, one stride ahead of her at all times. “Could’ve been dangerous.”

“They know not to fuck with me,” she was giggling now, and she looked almost girlish with her features softened. “Living with Miller has its perks.”

“Wouldn’t want your boyfriend having to exact revenge just cause I let you walk home drunk.”

“What?” Tess stopped walking.

“Aren’t—sorry, are you and Joel not—?”

Tess snorted, “Joel and I are not an item. I don’t, y’know. He’s not my type.” She had sobered almost instantly. “I like my partners…feminine.”

Oh. Oops.

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. We get it a lot. Easy living with each other cause we’re the only two that know how to empathize with the other.” She started walking again, leaving you with space to catch up. You didn’t inquire further about what she meant, it wasn’t something anybody wanted to discuss, ever. Loss and death were everywhere, there was no need to reflect on past experiences. Especially with someone like Tess who, in all honesty, intimidated you mightily. You just jogged to meet her pace. 

You followed her into the building, not that you could really explain why.

She had pushed the door open and motioned to you, silently telling you to come into what once could’ve been passed off as a $3,000/month studio apartment. She dropped her belongings on the kitchen table, getting two glasses and pouring watered-down sambuca into each one. You hated the taste, but appreciated that she seemed to genuinely want to spend time with you.

“You remember anything?” She prompted after finishing her drink.

“What?” You had barely touched yours. The anise flavored booze had a different burn than whiskey.

“Before.”

“I was little. I remember seeing Attack of the Clones. And that Scooby Doo movie.”

“I was in my thirties when those came out,” she laughed, “I fucking loved Scooby Doo.” You found yourself laughing along with her. She deadpanned after a moment, examining you.

“You’re still young. Not fair to you to have seen all that as a kid.”

“I guess. But I didn’t think episode two was all that bad.” You tried to laugh through the sudden solemnity. Tess rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head as she reached for the bottle to refill her glass.“But it’s not fair that anybody had to see any of that. Ever.” You could hardly call yourself eloquent, but she knew what you meant.

“What are you doing here?” She took smaller sips of her drink this time.

“Same thing as you.”

“Why?”

You didn’t know. “Gotta do something.” 

She nodded, “I want you with me.”

“Tess, I’m flattered—I am, but I don’t, I mean—”

“I want you to work with me.” She smiled into her glass, amused by your flustered response.

Oh. Oops.

“Oh. I...mean, ok. Yeah, ok.”

The door opened and you turned toward it out of impulse. The man that was suddenly in front of you was Tess’s age, you guessed. Dark hair greying, sleeves of his denim shirt rolled up to his elbows, face…mean.

Joel Miller in the flesh.

“Joel.” Tess was stern.

“What’s this?” Joel’s voice sent a shiver down your spine. You realized you had never spoken to him, never been spoken to by him. You’d only ever gawked from across the room. You felt yourself straighten your posture.

“Business. New teammate.” Tess took another sip from her glass.

Joel walked across the room, grabbing the liquor bottle and taking a swig from it before placing it back into a cabinet. He looked at you, giving you the up-and-down from where he stood at the counter.

“No.” He turned, walking into the bedroom.

Wide-eyed with concern and embarrassment, you looked at Tess. 

“Be here at nine tomorrow. PM.” She said, finishing her drink and getting up to take her place on the couch.

You let yourself out.

~~~

It was obvious when you arrived the following night that Joel was still irked by your presence. Also obvious was that Tess had made him swallow his pride. She gave you your instructions at the kitchen table while you nodded along. Joel was statuesque and showed no signs of emotion or consideration towards her words. 

And when Tess had explained that it would be you and Joel and only you and Joel, your brows furrowed and he still hadn’t budged. 

“I’ve gotta be here,” she dictated, words coming out slowly as though she was speaking to children, “Don’t need all of us gone, it’d be too much attention. I’ll cover.”

“I can cover.” You blurted out, suddenly nervous about being alone with Joel.

“No.” Joel spoke for the first time all night. You shrunk back into yourself and kept listening.

“—Into the sewer, out to the east, all we need is booze, maybe some pharmaceutical shit if you can grab any.”

You probed, “Pharmaceuticals?” 

“For us.” Tess had finished giving you the rundown, getting up from the table and walking into the bedroom, leaving you alone with Joel.

Saying nothing, he immediately started towards the door, leaving you to follow.

~~~

Contrary to popular belief, the sewers were not your ideal hang out. No matter how many times you went down there, it took days to scrub the feel and smell off of your body. If Joel cared about the dank surrounding, he didn’t show it.

When you popped the grate to crawl out, he moved to lift you slightly, but that was the only interaction you’d had on your journey. You wanted to get this over with, desperately wanted to be back in the company of anybody you could converse with. You made quick work of collecting what you needed and making your way back into tunnels below. Joel hadn’t said a word since he had objected to you taking watch, and you didn’t know why that bothered you so much; plenty of people didn’t speak to you, and you relished in it. You could walk around the QZ and not a soul would approach you—it was safer that way. Easier, too. But Joel’s silence made your head spin almost as much as his voice did. You kept looking at the way his biceps flexed under his shirt, the stern look on his face and the scar on his right temple. 

Despite his cold exterior, you felt at ease in his presence. Sure, his domineering attitude was somewhat troubling to you, but his lack of emotions made you feel less paranoid. You weren’t as preoccupied with looking over your shoulder as you would’ve been otherwise thanks to his presence, and the gun slung over his shoulder acted as additional reassurance. If anything were to happen, you doubted he’d have any trouble dealing with it.

Maybe the smell of the sewer was making you delirious. Or maybe you were experiencing a genuine attraction to him—not that you expected a man that wouldn’t speak to you to feel any sort carnal desire for you. Even so, you found your mind wandering on the route back to the QZ; you could imagine him smoking the cigarettes your grandfather used to buy, Marlboro reds that he kept in a silver case. The thought of a cigarette hanging between Joel’s lips made you shiver, though you tried to tell yourself you were just cold from the clammy tunnels. You tried to hide the curious looks you shot at him, the way you studied his hands and thought up reasons as to why they would be so calloused. It could’ve been from the work he did now, but the thought of him pre-outbreak, working with his hands in the heat, wiping the sweat that dripped down his forehead...

You heard a clang somewhere along the route. Looking up, you could make out a shadow growing larger, then smaller. An unmistakable clicking followed. 

Perhaps it was due to the unexpected encounter, or the daydreams still playing in the back of your head, but you found yourself frozen. If you could think straight, it would be embarrassing, but every noise was deafening, and you could feel your heartbeat in your skull. 

And then you were on the floor. Joel’s full weight pinning you down before he rose up again and two shots rang out. You tried your best to regain your composure, blinking rapidly and staring into nothing. Joel looked down at you, face painted with his routine grimace only inches away from your own.

“This,” he breathed heavily, voice frayed, “is why I said no.” 

But he waited for you to get up and brush yourself off before he kept walking.

“You’re a fuckin’ amateur.” He continued homewards.

~~~

You went with Tess after that. Nobody gave you an explanation—you didn’t need one. You had fucked up, made more apparent by the dismay painted on Joel’s face at your continued appearances in the apartment. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone speak to him, maybe attempt to apologize. He didn’t want to hear it; you knew as much as he did. You couldn’t even crawl back like a guilty dog with your tail between your legs, because you knew you’d just get swatted by the morning paper. And, worse, despite the obvious friction, Joel was constantly on your mind. It was humiliating that a man who never spoke to you could be the focal point of your private moments. You thought of his hands entirely too often, his name slipping out between hushed gasps in the darkness of your bedroom.

Your breaking point was the night you walked into the apartment, opening the door to barking laughter that ceased on his end the moment you crossed the threshold. It was purposeful, the way he drew his mouth into a frown as soon as your line of sight had connected. Scowling, his eyes followed you. You felt heat rise in your face and pool in your stomach.

You scowled back. You wouldn’t endure his attitude anymore. 

It went on like that for weeks. You figured that if you got under his skin he’d crack, forcing him to interact with you on a higher level—even if it was shouting at you. 

Joel Miller was a bad man, a mean man. You knew as well as anybody, and it pissed you off as much as it turned you on. 

~~~

You had let yourself into the apartment, flipping through an old magazine to pass the time you spent waiting for Tess.

When the door opened, your gaze met Joel’s. You turned back to skimming a story about Ewan McGregor, brows furrowed as you internally questioned what had happened to him in all this. 

You started the countdown for the game you were playing: Who would break first? You glanced up once or twice to see where Joel was, and he remained in the same spot in front of the doorway, dark eyes fixed on you. You crossed your legs.

“Tess isn’t here.” He spoke, and you stopped your countdown, congratulating yourself as tonight’s winner.

“I know.”

“She’s not coming.”

“I’m reading.” You turned the page, eager to read about who was dating who in August of 2000. 

Joel stayed in his spot by the door before making his way to the liquor cabinet—which you had discovered were most of the cabinets in this house. He put a glass in front of you and sat across, a glass of his own in his hand as he leaned forward to put his weight on the table.

“Jared Leto and Cameron Diaz.” You mused. Joel tipped back his glass, glaring at you. “Do you ever wonder if any of these people are still out there somewhere?”

“No.”

“Imagine killing some infected schmuck and realizing it was Ryan Gosling.” You smiled, enjoying your one-sided conversation. “I’d feel kinda bad…”

“’Least you’d be puttin’ him out of his misery.”

You looked up, surveying Joel, trying to find a trace of anything that could’ve prompted his sudden embrace of your goading. “Uhuh,” you raised an eyebrow, “just don’t think I could do it.”

“You scared?”

“Of you?”

“Of surviving.”

“No. Just of an infected Ryan Gosling.” You put down the magazine. “What’s your problem, Miller?”

“What’s yours?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Then neither do I.” He got up to refill his glass, and you had déjà vu, recalling how Tess had sat you down at the table months earlier to invite you into their professional lives. She had been much friendlier even then than Joel ever was. 

“You can’t fight for shit.” You turned to see Joel leaning against the counter, a bottle of whiskey in hand. You tried not to let your frustration at him show. “Hard to get good at this shit when you freeze at the first sign of trouble.”

“Shut up.” You brushed him off. You picked up the magazine again, trying to find your place.

“You know I’m right.” He drank from the bottle. For some reason you couldn’t stop yourself from standing up and facing him.

“What?” 

“Y’know you can’t fight for shit. Couldn’t to save your own life. You know that. I know that. Why’d’ya think Tess always goes with you?” He put the bottle down and crossed his arms. Wrath boiled in your chest; you wanted to rationalize, tell yourself that he was mad you were winning the game he made you start playing so he opted to hit below the belt; but, Jesus, he had gotten you where it hurt. You had long prided yourself in having the ability to survive, taking care of yourself and doing whatever it took for you to see the next day. For him to waltz into the space you had found some form of comfort in, where Tess drank with and felt for you, to imply that you were a failure—just some fucking kid with a knife?

You put as much weight behind the punch you threw towards him as you could muster, aiming at for his face in the hopes that a black eye might help him register your dedication to staying alive. He barely moved, grabbing your wrist to stop any real strength your blow might’ve had.

“You can do better.” Joel provoked you further. You were breathing hard but not heavy, staring into the eyes of the man you wished you could see for the evil everybody said he was. “Do better.” He continued. You grabbed him by the collar, nose to nose; you could smell the liquor on his breath, and you were sure he could smell it on yours. You were far from drunk, and the seething anger sobered you more than a cold shower ever could.

So you had no excuse for kissing him, which is probably why it was a quick peck, testing the waters and feeling as though you owed it to yourself as much as to him to see if this was one-sided. 

“That’s better.” He snaked an arm around your waist and cupped the opposite hand over the back of your head. You didn’t say a word, barely breathed at his response, before you attached yourself to him again. You forgot all about testing the waters and immediately dove in; you kissed him with an open mouth, tongue, teeth and all. He licked into you, pulling you in closer. He separated from you to speak.

“Bed.” Forever and always a man of few words. You stumbled over each other as he pulled you towards the bedroom, neither of you bothering to say anything else as you were pushed onto the bed. Joel straddled your chest, looking down at you and undoing his belt, brown eyes blown out with complete exasperation and lust. 

“Y’been botherin’ me since day one,” he pulled his cock from the confines of his jeans, “bad fuckin’ attitude.” He stroked himself, still looking at you.

“Doesn’t seem to be bothering you now.” You taunted him, reaching up to wrap both hands around him and sitting up as best you could to lick across the tip of his cock. He pushed his hips forward and you took the initiative to swallow as much of him as you could; no small feat, considering his size. You managed half before you gagged. He just laughed. 

“Gonna be quiet ‘round me, might as well put yourself to good use while you’re doin’ it.” He threw his head back as you licked circles over the head of his cock, hand working every inch you couldn’t push past your gag reflex. You made a noise in response to his words, though it was unclear if you meant it as an agreement or a rebuttal. You pulled yourself off of him, placing a kiss on the vein that ran up the underside of his cock. You looked up at Joel, content with your work, his breathing heavy. His hand came up to your jaw, prying your mouth open and sliding his thumb inside. You closed your lips around it and sucked, you heard him groan. He took his thumb out after a few more seconds.

“Open.” He placed his wet thumb on your chin. You opened wide, sticking out your tongue slightly, expecting him to give you his cock again. Instead, he spit directly into your mouth, before pressing on your lower jaw to force it closed. “Swallow.” You did as you were told. He shuffled himself further down your body, leaning down to kiss you, pushing his tongue between your lips before he continued moving downwards; he pulled the buttons of your flannel apart, kissing and sucking on the skin he revealed before licking over the burgeoning bruises. You thanked whatever God was out there that you had given up bras so long ago, as if it was all in anticipation of this moment. Joel’s mouth reached the waistband of your jeans, and he continued placing open mouthed kisses over your stomach as he undid your button and fly, pulling the fabric down your legs and revealing your panties. He bent forward into you, pressing his face into your clothed core, his nose and open mouth fanning hot breath across you. 

“Need a good lay.” You weren’t sure if he was talking about you or himself, though he answered your silent question soon after; “That’ll keep you from bitchin’ over everythin’.” He licked a straight line over your folds, tasting the tangy wet that seeped through the fabric of your underwear. You let out a shrill whine when his tongue danced over your clit, and reached down to shed yourself of the final layer of clothing that covered your bottom half. He caught your wrist and pushed it aside. “No,” He looked up at you as he licked over you again, “been playin’ your fuckin’ game for weeks. S’my turn. Don’t get greedy, now.”

You moaned when he released your wrist from his grasp, only to begin rubbing circles over you. “Pl—ease, Joel!” You arched your back, lifting yourself up to him in an attempt to gain more friction.

“Say it again.”

“Please,” it was barely audible, “please, Joel. Please, please…” Your eyes were hooded as you begged for more. Either he was satisfied by your attempt or took pity on you for coming undone over practically nothing, but he slid the panties down your thighs and threw them over his shoulder. He admired your naked cunt, ghosting a finger over your slit and collecting what you’d already released. He leaned back down and attached his lips to your clit, pushing his finger into you and bending it upwards. You gasped, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging, earning a satisfied grunt from him. He rhythmically sucked your clit in time with the movements of his finger, adding another slowly and then increasing the pace. Over and over, he brushed the spongey spot inside of you that made you clench around him, tugging his hair tighter. 

“Go—ing to, Joel, fuck! Joel—!” You were panting, fist gripping his hair.

“No.”

“Please!” You were trembling.

“No.” He was unforgiving, absolutely ruthless as he fucked his fingers into you faster, licking tight and fast over your clit. You were close to tears now, grabbing onto the pillow underneath you to stabilize yourself. You were sweating, and he was the one doing all the work, but, Christ, it took effort to hold off on cumming when he was knuckle deep in your pussy like that.

“Now.” He said, pushing up against the spot you needed him to touch most, sucking hard on your swollen clit. You all but yelled, body turning to jelly, your eyes screwed tight—all while Joel continued his ministrations. He stared at you open mouthed as you trembled. He slowed once you stopped shaking, sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean. 

“Still gonna act like a bitch now?” He peppered kisses over your thighs.

“F…fuck y—ou, Joel Miller.” You wheezed out. He laughed, standing up to remove his shirt and trousers. 

“’F’I’d known you wanted it I’d’ve done it a month ago.” He crawled over you, pressing kisses into your neck.

“Fuck you.” You finally caught your breath, and he pushed himself up enough to meet you face to face. “You’re a bad person. Everybody in the QZ knows you’re a bad man.”

“Then why are you in my bed?” He was half sincere.

“You tell me.”

“Can see the way you look at me. Terrible at keepin’ secrets. ‘Nother reason you need someone to protect you out there.” He scoffed, and you pulled him down for a kiss. Though bruising in force, you were gentler with each other. Neither of you felt inclined to use teeth this time around.

Joel pushed himself up and onto his knees, sliding his cock over your clit and pushing his tip into you slightly. You whimpered, trying to wordlessly urge him to sink into you. 

“Ask me.”

“Please.”

“More.”

“Please, Joel, need it…”

“Need what, sweet thing?” You closed your eyes, savoring the nickname as it rolled off his tongue. 

“Need your cock. Joel, please, I need you to fu—” He cut you off with one sharp thrust, pushing his full length into you and bottoming out. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, and Joel brought a hand down to rest on the side of your face.

“Atta girl,” his mouth hung open as he began shallowly thrusting into you, “take it all, darlin’.”

You whined, hands scrambling to touch him wherever you could reach; his shoulders, his chest, his thigh if you stretched down a bit further. It only spurred him on.

“Fuckin’ pathetic.” He pushed his hips into yours, attempting to get even deeper inside of your warm, inviting pussy. “Been such a bitch with me ‘nd now you’re so eager, huh? Li’l slut, needed t’get fucked s’all?” All you could do was let out a wonton moan, loving how he stretched you. “Gonna be nice from now on?” You couldn’t respond, could only think the word no as he sped up, sliding all the way out and all the way back into your cunt. “Answer me, girl.”

“F—uck, n—no!” You stammered. 

He brought a hand down harsh on your clit, pulling out so just the tip of his cock was seated shallowly inside of you. You squeezed around it. “Don’t be a bitch,” he spanked your pussy again, “tell me the truth.”

Tears pricked your eyes in frustration, and you nodded your head yes.

“Words.”

“Yes! I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, wo—won’t give you attitude, Joel, I—I won’t be such a bitch, I pr—omise.”

“I like you a li’l bitchy,” he slid his cock back into you, resuming the punishing pace, punching up into you. “Like my pretty li’l bitch. Like this tight fuckin’ pussy.” He flattened himself on top of you, chest pressing into yours with every breath he took and every rough shove of his cock against your cervix. The slight pain was worth the abounding pleasure. He reached under your midriff, sliding his hands between the flannel you still half-wore to meet your skin, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you into him further. You wrapped your own arms around his waist, completely lost in him. 

“Y’needed this as much as I did,” he groaned into your ear, “tell me, sweet thing.”

“Needed—oh, fuck, I needed it.” You whispered against the skin of his shoulder. He managed to reach a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit. You buried your face into him, suddenly very aware of what was happening; your daydreams coming to fruition, winning the game in a manner leagues above what you had hoped for. The attention was staggering. The tears you had held back during his earlier taunting escaped, spilling over your cheeks and smudging into the sweat on Joel’s skin. It was overwhelming in the best way. Anxiety inducing in the worst. 

“So good, being so—so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” He was getting sloppy with his thrusts, rhythm failing as he neared his own high. He pulled away from you, shifting positions to hold you so that you could be face to face. You couldn’t count how many times today you had found yourself staring at Joel Miller. “You’re so good.” A fully earnest sentiment, punctuated by every inch of his cock. “Want you to cum, need you to cum for me again.” He was practically begging, words coming out in moaned whispers. He kissed the tear streaks over your cheek and down to your lips, the wiry hair of his short mustache rubbing against your top lip in a manner that made your skin instantly sore, but it felt too good to be connected to him like this to complain at all. He continued his movements, fingers running over your clit at a heightened pace and cock throbbing inside of you. You squeezed around his cock, arms squeezing his torso, and you felt yourself coming undone. 

“There you go. Feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ me. Gimme one more, sweetheart.” You were pushed over the edge, once again cumming for Joel Miller in a way you had only ever imagined. He held you tight, letting you wrap yourself around him while you came, whispering his name and tangling your fingers in his hair. He managed a few more deep thrusts before pulling out and spilling across your stomach, chanting your name. Your breathing was labored, and Joel admired how he had painted you with his spend.

He stood up, walking out of the room, and you felt the urge to cry again, feeling suddenly abandoned after something so new and intimate. But he walked back in with a threadbare towel, wiping down your stomach and the wet between your thighs. You were both silent as he finished cleaning you up. He exited once more to rid himself of the towel before reuniting with you in bed. He lay beside you for a moment before turning to hold you. You turned to face him.

“It’s a shame you wiped me clean. Wanted a taste.” You failed to keep your tone even and unbothered, the crack in your voice apparent as you tried your hand at humor.

“Next time.” You looked up to find him staring at you once again. His usual scowl replaced by something softer. You fell back into a semi-comfortable silence.

“I am a bad man.” He spread his fingers out between your shoulder blades.

“Joel—”

“I am,” the words came out harsher than he had meant them to, “I’ve done bad shit just to get by. It’s fuckin’ embarrassin’ to kill someone just to see another day of this. Bad’s an understatement.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m hard on you cause I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. Don’t wanna be out with you if somethin’ happens. Don’t wanna be away from you if somethin’ happens. Wouldn’t be able to—”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know. S’fuckin’ awful. Shouldn’t have’ta fend for yourself.” He swallowed.

“Have to to survive, Joel. Made it this far.”

“No,” he countered, “shouldn’t have to survive. You should be livin’. Shouldn’t need’a run with a crowd like me ‘nd Tess.”

“Don’t you think we’re a little past that? I’d be doin’ the same thing even if I didn’t have you two to do it with.”

“I’ve seen how you freeze up.”

“I knew you’d be there.” You nearly snapped, astonished that after all this he was still hung up over the first run you did with him, despite the effortless shots he had taken. Even more astonished that he hadn’t realized that despite the external bitterness he had fashioned and the constant stream of “no” that left his mouth, you knew even then that he’d keep you protected. He looked away from you, and you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, trying to show him that for all your bite you were capable of being docile when the moment called for it.

“Shouldn’t wanna hang around bad people.” Joel’s eyes looked into the nothing of the distance as he muttered. “Shouldn’t have to risk everything just to do bad things.”

“Good men die, too, Joel,” You were firm, “I wanna be…” You trailed off. He looked back to you and traced a finger over your collar bone, admiring the marks that had formed from his kisses. “Wanna be around you. With you.” You saw a faint smile creep across his face.

“Not a good man?”

You scoffed, “Never a good man. Wouldn’t know how to handle me.” He laughed softly. You allowed his hands to roam over your body while you mirrored his movements, tracing your fingers over the scars that littered his chest. “Come with me on the next run.” You weren’t asking.

For the first time in 20-odd years, Joel was unable to say no.

[boozenboze]

141 and male reader who is angry and when he’s angry, he goes in the gym area they have and just punches the punching bad with bare fists for hours on end and basically breaks the punching bags but keeps putting new ones up. his fists are bloody and bruised and everyone is looking for him and they can’t find him so they search everywhere and find him with blood running down his hands from the countless hours of punching and they have to practically drag him out of the gym and they make him lay down which he wont go down without a fight but YA

SORRY ITS LONG💗😭

Calm Down!

Summary: After a certain soldiers constant slip ups and slacking off Lieutenant Rage gets angry.

Females She/Her and She/ They DNI

Today hadn't gone so well, in fact it went terribly. For starters two of the new recruits lost the files that the team had been sent to retrieve. Secondly, one of the same men had flunked out during training, only to later be seen running about with some of the other soldiers. And the cup of tea to pull everything together he did something he shouldn't have. That thing being talking about one of the higher ups, Lieutenant Rage, also known as M/n. The h/c haired male had his eyes on the recruit since the beginning, knowing that he'd be trouble from the start. The childish acts, the constant slacking off, and always holding everybody back by getting injured. It was clear as day that the man shouldn't be in the military for those exact reasons. The mans carelessness for himself and others would get them all killed.

"Captain do you not understand what i'm saying?" The h/c haired male asked as Price hummed, showing that he was paying attention to the males words as he filled out some papers.

"Rage look, I understand your concern but I haven't seen anything wrong with the seargent." Price explained as M/n glared into his skull.

"Besides maybe your overreacting-"

"I AM NOT OVERREACTING!" The male finally snapped as that cold glint in his eyes that would normally only be seen on the field was now visible. Price flinched at the males change of tone, it was hot yet scary.

"That bastard could get us all killed at some point and your sitting on yer ass like that's ok. THAT IS NOT OKAY!" The male yelled as Price shook slightly from the males booming voice. He was the males Captain, he shouldn't be getting yelled at like this. With one final huff of anger the male stormed out as Price sat in his chair stunned.

The h/c haired male stormed down the hallway, knocking a solider down in the process.

"Hey! Whats your problem....." The soldiers voice dragged as he realized it was his Lieutenant. "I-i'm sorry sir!" The soldier squeaked as he ran down the hallway. M/n was already breathing heavily out of anger, and that anger seemed to double after that small accident. He had to let off some steam at this point. If he was pushed any further he'd end up killing someone. The man was speeding over to the training area that he knew would be empty considering that it was around the time the soldiers would go to their barracks. The h/c haired male couldn't do that, his adrenaline was high and that would only keep him awake longer. He just hoped that he could blow off some steam before going to bed.

Timskip (Gaz pov)

I just came from Prices office and he seemed to be deep in thought. I asked if everything was oky but he said no. He told me about the conversation he had with M/n and from how he explained it, it seemed like he was pissed off. M/n was always the most aggressive out of us all, hell he'd probably yank a mans head off if he could.

We were all walking around the base looking for our beligerant soldier known as M/n. The man could do the unthinkable when he's angry so we hope he isn't doing anything crazy.

"We've checked everywhere for the man it's clear he isn't here!" Soap complained, getting tired of feeling like he had been walking circles. I looked at the man before turning my attention to Ghost. Seemed like he didn't wanna be here either, but he had no choice. We passed the training area and heard a loud slam which caught our attention. Price gave us a look before opening the door. I was surprised to see M/n standing over a punching bag, i'm guessing he broke it considering that the chain that the bag was connected to wasn't there anymore. The man was out of breath as he picked up the punching bag and throwing it to the side.

Ghost had walked over and put his arms under the shorter males arms. The man immediately threw a fit, he was kicking and yelling incoherantly and the men were only able to hear snippets of his words.

"Get the fuck off me-BITCH!" The male yelled as he whipped his head back hitting Ghosts mask. Ghost grunted from the sudden pressure being put on his face as he crouch down to the floor with the male still in his hold. The taller man had the h/c haired male pinned to the ground as the position they were in restricted his movements.

3rd pov

"M/n calm down, we can stay like this for as long as we have to, to make your relax." Price said as M/n huffed angrily. Slowly but surely the mans breathing steadied, despite that he still wasn't calm. Gaz had held the mans hand and furrowed his brows at the sight of the males bleeding knuckles. Ghost had already noticed the mans hands, so he picked him up and walked to the infirmary.

Timeskip

Ghost was seated on the couch next to Ghost, who was currently sipping on some tea as the h/c haired male groaned in annoyance. The slurping sounds aggravated him but he couldn’t since Ghost had him wrapped up in a blanket. He looked like a burrito, a angry one at that. The lieutenant looked at him for a moment before offering the male a biscuit, to which he took. He may be angry, but when snacks are offered there can’t be much of an argument. The male muttered a “thank you” while chewing the savory treat. In that moment Soap and the others came into the room in their pajamas. The Scot almost laughed when he saw the position the private had been put in.

“Well ain’t this nice to see.” Soap said while ruffling the males hair to which the male attempted to bite his hand. Soap laughed and poked the males side before sitting down.

“L/n...look, I thought about what you had said and your right.” Price said as M/n looked him dead in the eye.

“We’ll be terminating him tomorrow, he won’t be bothering anyone else.” Price explains as M/n visibly relaxed. Seems like the removal of that one recruit made a big difference in the males mood which made them all happy.

“Alright...Lets watch a movie since we’re still up!” Gaz said happily while the other men hummed in agreement as M/n squirmed under the blanket.

“If one of you dont get me out this hot ass blanket we’re having problems.” M/n said as Soap hurriedly tool the blanket from around the male. The sound of the movie could be heard as all the men sat back and relaxed. M/n had his head on Ghosts shoulder while Soap had his head on M/n’s. Seems like they would be having a peaceful night.

[tiredfox64]

Part three of Go for the Kill? But its based ok the ending where reason is with all three of the brothers? She soon gets knocked up and the threee fight over whose it is? >:3

The Soil was Tilled Enough

Prior notes: I knew somebody would ask for this. Had a That’s so Raven moment when I was writing that last part.

Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: You’re gonna have a stroke with my reasoning.

You are faced with a light pink stick in your hands. You were growing tired and sick just days before which worried the brothers a lot. The last thing they want is for their vicious woman to grow horribly ill. Oh but this is no illness. This is the miracle of life.

Yeah this is a strange situation. Truly a spectacle that has some people, or more like someone, disappointed. Liu Kang ain’t too happy that his paid assassin would be out of commission for at least a year. What he also doesn’t like is hearing that the brothers are fighting over who is the father. The yelling is really getting annoying.

“It can’t possibly be your child! I slept with her first!” Bi-Han yelled directly in Tomas’ face.

“We all slept with her first! You are just jealous that the baby is possibly mine!” Tomas yelled right back.

The only one staying calm was Kuai Liang. He stayed right next to you, rubbing your belly as you contemplated the same thing. Who is the father?

Alright, so you put too much faith into Plan B. Guess it wasn’t made to handle loads upon loads of baby-making liquid from men who probably never allowed themselves to feel relief in quite a while. Plus the fact that they love you a lot made the chances of you getting pregnant much higher. I think they were aiming for that goal but I’m not a mind reader.

“What are we gonna do? Are we ready enough to handle having a baby and raising it?” You questioned, concerned about way too many things.

“Of course can handle it. The baby will be in safe hands. Even if the baby is not mine I promise to take care of them as if they were my own.” Kuai Liang made that promise to you.

Kuai Liang really loves you and just wants the best for you. He doesn’t want you to worry too much especially now that’s you are pregnant. His commitment to you made you feel a little better, knowing he won’t be mad about whose baby it is. The other two…yeah that’s gonna take some time.

At this point Bi-Han had Tomas in a headlock which made Tomas start punching Bi-Han’s arms in defense. Kuai Liang ran in to split the two apart.

“Enough of this! This fighting won’t solve anything.” He yelled at them both.

“I do not understand why you are not threatened by the fact that Tomas might have impregnated her. What good will that baby do coming from a man like him?” Bi-Han was being harsh again which made Tomas punch him.

“It does not matter. She is pregnant and she wants to keep it. We must support her no matter what.”

Kuai Liang was right and all the brothers had to agree with his statement. Though Bi-Han was still being as stubborn as ever. If he just keeps the mindset that it’s his baby in there he will be fine.

“Well, do you know how far along you are?” Tomas asked.

“Considering the last time we did it was a couple of weeks ago and I’m getting sick, it might be four to six weeks.”

Oof, if it’s six it can only get worse when it comes to the symptoms. Get ready to start taking bathroom breaks and getting sick from smells.

“It will still be a few weeks before we can get a paternity test done.” You added on.

“We should do that. Settle this debate early on whose child this is.” Bi-Han was on board with doing a paternity test even though he didn’t know you can test that while still pregnant. It’s that old mindset don’t worry.

“I want to the know the gender first. I wanna see if we are having a baby boy or a baby girl.” Tomas gushed at the idea.

“No you don’t, Tomas! We will not wait to find out the gender first.”

“Yes we will, brother. It will teach you to have some patience. It will also test if you still love her enough to take care of her while she is going through this.”

Kuai Liang was shutting Bi-Han down at every opportunity. How dare his little brother accuse him of not loving you. Fine, he’ll wait. They’ll all wait. And as that goes on they will start preparing things for you like a nursery. They gonna spoil the hell out of you.

A woman who is pregnant is a strong woman indeed. They will make sure to take good care of you. They will do their parts as the possible fathers.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Finally! Week thirteen! You can expect your results to be one hundred percent accurate when it comes to the gender. Now here’s the interesting part—

“WHAT!” You, Tomas, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang all yelled at the doctor in shock.

…I didn’t get to finish. Let me speak up. Damn…

As I was saying the interesting part was that as time went on you noticed your belly was getting quite big. It was a little too early but you didn’t think it was anything much. This was your first time being pregnant so you thought it was normal.

Not necessarily.

“T-twins? We are having twins? And they are all ours?” Tomas was questioning the doctor on how accurate it was.

The ultrasounds did show two little babies. Two little nuggets growing inside you. And they are both boys, congratudolences!

“It’s called Heteropaternal superfecundation. It’s incredibly rare but it can happen. Especially to someone with three partners.” That doctor was throwing shade at you. She was just jealous.

“So one of those boys is definitely mine,” Tomas was all smiles, “But what about the other one?”

Yeah, what about the other one? Still got the other two. They are blood related so this might be harder.

If it’s Kuai Liang’s this might not end well for him since Bi-Han was staring him down with a death glare. Luckily the doctor had something to say about that.

“That’s the thing, we can’t tell. Because they are related there is some difficulties. So as far as any of you know, they are both the father of that other little boy.”

Kuai Liang is content with that. He is just happy to start a family and have a child with you. Bi-Han…ah he gives up. There is no point in being upset about this. There is nothing anyone can do. He’ll be happy to have a son of his own that he can train and possibly be the next grandmaster to the Lin Kuei.

All the brothers are happy to be fathers to a wonderful set of twins, dizygotic twins to be exact. Tomas is already imagining having the twins play together and teaching them to take care of one another. Kuai Liang is imagining caring for them both and teaching them to be good brother. Bi-Han already preparing in his mind a plan to train his son. That’s his responsibility.

The tension between the brothers dissipated. There was no reason to fight and stress you out even more. Looks like they better get more things ready for the babies. The nursery has to be big enough to accommodate two of them.

You have a good support system going on here. I hope you are happy with your multiple lovers and your set of twins.

…

Oh don’t tell me, you want to know who the father actually is. Alright so the clinic didn’t actually have the advanced technology to figure out who the father was when it came to Kuai Liang and Bi-Han. They were only certain on Tomas.

The true father is…I don’t know. What? Did you think I knew all? No! Even I don’t know. And do you even wanna know? Just let be happy that they are happy. Now get some rest, mama. You have a long journey ahead of you and it’s called motherhood.

After notes: Why do I keep doing twins? I’m scaring myself. Here’s a fact about me I have a high chance of having twins if I were to get pregnant. Yeah, I know, crazy. Please tell me I haven’t manifested this for myself my period still hasn’t come oh gosh 😭. I would have done triplets for this fic but nature doesn’t work like that. Well since I’m done I get to eat. Adiós! (Pls make my period show up y’all)

[hidtired]

A Single Punch [Part 3]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Description: The line up ended with people thinking you died. However, your recovering at Hilltop with severe injury's. How will people react to seeing you again?

2.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, near death, depression, recovery, typical walking dead shenanigans) [Happy ending, fluff <3]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Your POV

"They took Daryl as their prisoner."

That sentence replay in your mind as you lay in bed that night. You had no idea what they were doing to him. Not even if he was breathing in the same moment you were. He doesn't even know you still are. You had to bite down on your tongue to prevent you from getting emotional. You were struggling to exist. Adding this mental pain onto the physical, you would never recover if something happened to him. You wouldn't have the strength to try and become better.

You would die of a broken heart.

The pain medication giving to you is what put you to sleep. Waking up foggy, still with a weird compression feeling in your neck. People had started their days already. You stared as people were getting ready for the morning. You proceeded to stretch trying to regain control of your body again. You heard Sasha and Rosita talking outside, "Then let me come with you, its stupid to go alone.'' You were confused, but what else is new. But, it sounded like they were going to do something they weren't supposed to.

Sasha had promised to help wash your hair in the sink yesterday. So when she came to keep that promise you questioned her. She was preparing the area you were going to use to wash your hair (Hopefully removing whatever blood that the last time didn't.) "Where are you going?" Sasha had turned to you towel in hand, "What are you talking about? I'm not going any where, we are washing your hair." She seemed to think you were confused but your expression remained blank, "With Rosita..." Sasha pursed her lips, "You heard us talking earlier." She stated it in realization. She sighed before helping you to lay your head in the sink.

Warm water was flowing down your scalp, a relief to you. Sasha began while running her fingers in your hair, carful of the stitches. "You can't tell anybody... I just can't- can't live with it. He need to pay for what he did." You sat there and listened, she wanted revenge, closer. You released a long breath, "I don't like it. Think- of the conseq-quences. Act on here-" You pointed to your brain, "not here..." your hand rested above your heart. "I know this one is much louder." You looked up at her with sad eyes. She simply looked away for a second. You continued, "No one else, we are losing no one else." Then is when she looked down at you, "Lets get your hair dry and get a new bandage on." You only sighed but complied.

She was probably hoping you world forget what you had heard. Just because you didn’t talk most of the time didn’t mean you weren’t getting better. You felt like you were at the point of having clear cognitive abilities. Your struggle was in having your brain controlling your body. You would tell your foot to move and it would, it just wouldn’t get to where you thought it told you it was. Maggie walked in frustrated about something but you had to tell her to talk to Sasha and Rosita.

“Maggs?”

You had startled her out of her thoughts, “You need something Y/N?” She approached you while looking you over for something wrong. You could only hold your head down ashamed, Sasha said not to say anything but you couldn’t let it go. “Could you check on-n Sasha? She and Rosita, planning something…” Maggie stood there confused before realizing what they could be planning. So without a word she ran out the door to look for them.

She returned later explaining Enid told her they had already left. Jesus was going after them though. Now you could only hope they were going to be ok.

You had asked Enid to help you outside to a bench. You wanted to be near if they came back. Also maybe because the trailer was driving you mad. You could tell it was getting late with the temperature slowly dropping. The book you were reading had lost your interest. You stared out watching everyone go about there days. You hadn’t thought much about Negan. The thirst for his blood that many seemed to have. You’re sure if you sat and lingered on it you would. For now it was still a thought of terror. You would dream about the feeling of the bat. Only on nights the meds started to fade and your headache only fueled the sensation.

Then Daryl would swirl around in your head. He was shot the last you saw him. Even worse he could only think you were dead like everyone else thought. Knowing him he was having guilt eating him alive. About you and Glenn. You’ve seen how he gets with grief. You could only hope he didn’t do something stupid.

The sunset reminded you they weren’t coming back today. You attempted to get up before older lady was at your side helping you. It was frustrating being so dependent. The was no use pushing the help away because you did need it. You sulked while laying down in bed. You didn’t talk for the rest of that night going to bed early.

You woke up before anyone. You slowly moved to get out of bed. Taken small slow steps leaning on anything near you. You had managed to get out slowly closing the door. You didn’t trust going down the steps so you sat down going down that way. Making your way back to that bench all by yourself took a good half hour. The cold air was slightly warming with the sun peaking over the hills. The cold was welcome, you preferred it better then the constant burning in your aching body.

Enid was the one to wake up seeing you gone and alerting Maggie. She had found you at the bench. She feared you had fallen somewhere. She sat opposite of you, “You should had woken one of us.” Looking at her seeing the expression of someone tired and lost. “I got here, eventually.” She only looked at you displeasingly. You smiled at her before choking out,

“I’m sorry-y my current existence was at the expense of Glenn’s.”

She looked shocked, “That’s not how it-“ you were waving your hand slowly waving her off, “It’s true, I’m just telling you I won’t let it go to waste. He was one of the good things left in the world and I’ll do right by him.” It was the first semi clear thing you’ve said your entire recovery. Despite it being slower and more forced out, it was firm and decisive. Maggie stared at you with tears in her eyes, placing her hand on yours and squeezing it. She nodded, “Thank you.” The rumbling in the distance broke the moment. Maggie stood and listening closely, “It could be the Saviors again.” She ran to get up onto the watch platform.

As the sound got closer it achingly sounded like Daryl’s bike. Maggie was yelling to open the gates. You stood and slowly made your way around a corner again leaning on anything to help you. The gates were wide open as a bike and two figures on them got off. It was Daryl… he was here. He is right there! Your slow steps soon turned faster and more wobbly. You started to cry. He was getting hugged by Maggie oblivious to your presence. You ran out of things to keep your balance but continued on sloppily. Your cry’s turn louder as you yell,

“DARYL!”

Your sobbing now- struggling to catch a breath even. You couldn’t get there fast enough. Daryl quickly turned at the voice. Your brain moving too fast for your body, caused you to fall to your hand and knees. But you still try and crawl.

Daryl POV

Earlier

Daryl was making his attempt to escape again. With the key that was slipped under the door, he was headed to his bike after finding some cloths and Ricks gun in Dwight’s room. The place was empty, until a larger man rounded the corner with food in his hand. Fat Joey he had heard them call him. He startled when they made eye contact. He lifted his hands in a surrender, “L-look man I didn’t see anything, you could just go I won’t say anything.” But Daryl angrily approached the him. “No! No wait!” Daryl had beaten him into the floor. Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Another person, he stopped looking over to the presence.

He straightens in surprise, “Jesus?”

Jesus was as surprised to see him to. Daryl looked rough, and if the way he just watched him beat that man to death, wasn’t doing the best emotionally. He seemed on edge, and most notably animalistic. Daryl waved him over to the bike, “We gotta go.” Daryl was fiddling to start the bike as Jesus approached him. He seemed sporadic, maybe that’s why he didn’t mention anything about you. The man was already at level ten no need to push him further.

The ride to Hilltop took them until morning light to break. The gate opened and Daryl seeing Maggie made him feel like a hole had appeared under him and the only voice that could have possibly pulled him out of it rung out through the air.

“DARYL!”

Now

He had turned to see if he imagined it. He saw you struggling to make your way over. He first thought that like how Rick hallucinated Lori, he was doing with you. But regardless he ran the rest of the way you couldn’t as you fell. He was breathing hard and tears were streaming down his bruised face. He reached down to pull you to your feet. He caught a glimpse of your face seeing a bandage rapped around your head. He was in disbelief as he held you. You had crumpled into him. Your casted arm going around him as your other found his hair pushing him closer to you. Daryl’s voice held a tremble, “How is this possible.”

You choked down a gasp of air before talking, “You punched him…” You pulled back to look at his face. Hand removing from his hair to caress his cheek.

“I didn’t intend to play dead but did. I passed out- and- and then heard- took y-you.” Your speech was turning more slurred harder you tried to talk. It was obvious you were struggling to keep up with yourself. Daryl could only stare. Overwhelmed by the feelings flooding through him. After feeling like he had his entire being ripped from his body, only for it to appear back to him. ‘His punch?’ He couldn’t care to think of why you were in front of him just that you were. He wasn’t a religious man by any means but he was thankful to whatever had made you fallen back into his arms.

You were crying at a small whimper now when Maggie approached putting a hand to your back. “Shhh, you have to calm down Y/N, let’s get you laid down.” Daryl was dazed, still struggling to comprehend if this was real. Maybe a dream? Was he still in his cell? He had a good look at you now. Your face all kinds of colors. Your skin pale with bags under your red eyes. You moved almost like a toddler. Just like how Judith would try to sass him and walk leading her tripping at the inability to multitask. You were in obvious pain. You had yet to pull away from him. He looked to Maggie with a panicked and questioning look, “Is she okay, how hurt is she?” He moved to sweep you by the legs to pick you up bridal style. He didn’t even care for the pain in his shoulder from the gun shot.

Maggie started to lead them to the trailer, “She has been getting better. She was much worse at the start. I’ll explain everything.” In the trailer he set you down on a bed. You had one hand still on his arm. He sat down on the side taking your hand into his turning to Maggie for an explanation. Catching the hint she continued,

“We didn’t even notice she was still alive until Sasha and I were on are way to Hilltop.”

Daryl interrupted- “Why were you going here? Rick said you had died from whatever sickness you had, but saw Gabe did a fake grave for you.” She inhaled before placing a hand to her stomach, “I thought I was losing the baby…” Color drained from his face, Maggie spoke reassuringly, “They baby is fine! The doctor who looked at me also helped her.” They both turn to you. You were fiddling with his hand in yours, seemingly mesmerizing by it. She sighed, “He said she was recovering better than he thought she would. She wasn’t herself the first few days but, she seemed to have taken most of the force to her hand.” Daryl's eyebrows furrowed and he eyed the cast on your hand.

You turn your attention to Daryl, “I’m ok… I swear.” He saw what had happened to you. The sound of that damn bat and the blood pouring out from your motionless body. Maggie movement caught his attention, “I let you two be, you’ll find me around.” She walked out the door before he could reply. You sighed at her abrupt exit and the face he was making. The face of a man consumed of guilt, “Later, you-u should talk through it with her. Your face is saying it all.”

Oh to be called on his B.S. again. To have you reading him like you had the manual to him. He probably still had the thought written on his face, ‘Your really here.' The pressure you pressed in your combined hands made him return it.

“Daryl, what did they do to you.”

A simple question really but his mind spun at the remembrance. He was covered in grime, and he is sure you noticed him being a little twitchy. The cuts and bruises to add told you a story. “Nothing worse than thinking you were dead.” He said it truthfully. You gave that god awful look that would make is heart pound. “Ar-are you ok?” Your eyes were becoming glassy. He only smiled and began to nod, “I will be now.” You slowly smiled back to him.

He went to clean up at your request, had taken a shower and cleaned some of the cuts on his face, along with his still healing bullet wound. He returned back to you and ate. He was quiet to observe you. Taken his own notes on your condition.

You were face down on top of his chest after he ate. Both soaking in each other. Daryl broke the silence, “Be my wife…” You didn’t even hesitate, raising your head to look at him and replying, “Where’s my ring at then…?” He huffed out some air having a dumb smile on his face, “In are room…” That had gotten your attention, “How long has it been there?” Marriage for Daryl wasn’t a concept he thought would be a part of his life with how he was raised. “Found it back on a run for the prison. Never found a moment with how everything went down.” Your hand reached to whip a tear from your eye before flopping back down on him,

“I’ll be your wife.”

A ruckus outside caused Daryl to investigate, removing himself from you felt like a sin. "I'll go check it out, stay here." He only looked back for a moment before heading out the door. He slowly stalked to see the gate open. Jesus appeared by him, "I was just about to get you." Daryl looked at him questioningly. He continued his approach to the gate. Daryl rounded the corner to see Rick, Carl, Michonne, Tara, and Rosita. Rick pulling away from Maggie, and all eyes falling to him.

The group he considered his family was here.

Part 4

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Also sorry again for grammar or spelling that is messed up! Dyslexia kicks my ass on the daily.

[rocketbirdie]

Memories.

-----

Before he could come up with an answer, though, Kunsel was hugging him. At first, it surprised him, though he didn't know why. Maybe just because the last five years had been completely devoid of positive touch like this. Maybe it was because he hadn't quite expected it. But either way, it was needed, and Zack felt himself sink into the hug almost immediately, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend and burying his face in the other's shoulder.

Am I lost? You're not lost, you know this place. See how you know this place? That's not right—

His panicked breath halts and the world shifts under his feet. Against the cracking ache and the fogged haze, he lifts his head and blinks into the shine of mako gold eyes. When did you get here? Kunsel has information and he sends it to you often. Leave, he's not important.

"Lost? Me?" His toothy grin sends a flare of pain behind his eyes. When have we met? You know him, like you know this place. "Kunsel, man, you know I've run around underplate a thousand times! Stop worryin'! I'll see you later, ok? Things to do, pretty girls to see—"

Kunsel Zantos showed promise. That much had been obvious from day one of his formal recruitment; questionable background and motivations aside (that which, perhaps, had begun Tseng's careful monitoring in the first place). But in truth, the Turk had not expected him to last long. Bets placed against him for all manners of reasons/excuses, foolish enough to go poking his head in places they didn't belong.

And yet, here he was, stubbornly persistent despite it all.

The last time he had to deal with a SOLDIER directly like this? All those years ago. Alongside Zack. A case which had been pulled from its archival home to live under the watchful gaze of the leader of the Turks because of the very reckless idiot he was now working with.

There was a comfort in physical contact that Aerith couldn't explain. It was always how she had been. But she bottled that for the sake of being heartbroken. The more Kunsel came around, the more that heartbreak lifted. The more she felt herself. The more she punched and pushed, teased and tapped. Invaded his space with those big green eyes and smiled at him as wide as she could...

She was happy.

"...you're the only one that's left— you— you KNOW everything, and I know you have to live with that just as much as I do, but you've come back after all this time, and that's all you can say to me? 'Life isn't a game, Roche— life isn't a stage!' Then what am I supposed to make of it, huh? Play the loyal little hound like you? Bow down and kiss some Shinra ass while I'm at it? Abandon who I am; what my heart tells me to do? You're no better than those goddamn Turks."

-----

Thank you for the commission! 💜

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Where The Shadows Dance - The Bodyguard (ii)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER II: The Bodyguard

SUMMARY: The Night Court must decide who shall remain to protect the Daughter of Autumn, while also getting to know the princess with a fiery soul.

WARNINGS: More misogyny! yay! mentions of alcohol, tw: beron (we all hate him its ok), people talking shit behind y/n's back, probably swearing i can't remember (also i just swore in the warning so like... it's possible), daddy issues!

NOTE: once again special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for reading over my work! <33

WORDS: 2K

Sitting in the quarters Beron had assigned to the Night Court guests, the inner circle debated how to approach this situation they had found themselves in. 

One of them was to play bodyguard for the Princess of the Autumn Court. Of course, there were many logistics to sort out, ranging from the most obvious one – who would be the assigned bodyguard – to smaller details, such as whether they needed more than one Night Court member to remain in Autumn.

“I’m telling you, they’re a bunch of snakes,” Cassian said firmly. “We can’t just leave one person behind. What if this is a ploy?”

“That is true,” Feyre mused, “but why bother to make a ploy at all? We fought in the war together, and an unprovoked attack against the Night Court would cause another war. And Beron must know that the other courts would be on our side.”

Amren sighed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Cassian. We can’t trust these people.”

Azriel stayed silent, mulling it all over. It was all true — fighting for the same side in the war had brought the courts together, but then again, there were people like Eris and his brothers lurking in this court.

A soft knock on the door prompted everyone to look towards the sound. After a moment, the door opened, revealing Eris, a small smile on his face.

“It is lovely to see you all in a different scenery,” Eris commented after he had closed the door.

“Eris,” Rhysand greeted. “How can we help you?”

Eris went ahead and took a seat in a scarlet chair beside the fireplace, relaxing with ease. Azriel supposed it would be easier to do so now that he was in his own home, but the sight still frustrated the shadowsinger.

“I just wanted to see what you all thought of my father’s… proposition,” Eris said casually.

“Did you know?” Cassian questioned.

Eris shrugged. “I did tell you that it had something to do with my sister.”

“There was an attempt on her life, which you failed to mention,” Azriel stated.

Eris just smiled calmly. “Must have slipped my mind.”

This was exactly what Cassian had been talking about before, Azriel knew. They were cunning and sly in the Autumn Court, and that made them dangerous.

“Anything else that may have ‘slipped your mind’?” Azriel inquired.

Eris turned his gaze to the shadowsinger, a small smirk on his face. Azriel wanted to punch the male, and he remembered the feel of his neck beneath his hands, and how close he could have come to killing the heir before him. He sort of wished he had.

“My father has already chosen which member of your court he wants as Y/n’s bodyguard,” Eris revealed.

Azriel blinked. Despite the fact that Beron had given them the illusion of free choice, of course the male had already decided. After looking at Eris expectantly, Rhysand realised the male would not freely give up this information.

“Who?” the High Lord asked.

Eris glanced at Azriel. “The shadowsinger, of course.”

Everyone looked at Azriel, and the Illyrian wanted to shrink away from the attention. Why him? Yes, perhaps he appeared more gentlemanly than Cassian, as he knew how to keep his mouth shut, but what else? Yes, he was the Spymaster for the Night Court, but Cassian was the general of the armies. Amren terrified everyone, and yes, she’d be more than capable to be a bodyguard, but then again, Amren might kill the princess if she annoyed her.

“Why Azriel?” Rhys questioned.

Eris looked at the High Lord as if he was incompetent. “Is he not the most obvious choice? That one–” he nodded to Cassian, “–has already tainted a female promised to the Autumn Court.”

Rage, icy cold, flowed through Azriel at the implications behind Eris's words. ‘A female promised to the Autumn Court’ was very obviously Mor, and the entitlement in his tone…

“First of all, I have a mate–” Cassian growled, but Rhysand cut him off.

“Let's not argue,” the High Lord said firmly, although silent fury shone in his eyes at Eris's words. “We're all allies here.”

Eris rolled his eyes but said nothing more, and Cassian glared at the Autumn Court heir, clearly imagining all the ways he could rip him apart.

“Didn't Azriel try to kill you at the High Lord's meeting?” Amren mused.

Eris glowered at the female. “Well, we certainly can't have you here. Your mere presence makes the courtiers uneasy.”

“I did save your asses during the war,” Amren reminded him, but she seemed more than pleased that she still terrified people. 

Azriel let out a breath. He had guessed that it would be himself who would have to play bodyguard, but how could he do so when his job was one of utmost importance to the Night Court? Even now, with Nyx only half a year old, there were so many threats that needed to be uncovered and eliminated.

Azriel glanced at Rhysand and Feyre. Both had been reluctant to leave their son behind for a week, but they knew it would be much too dangerous to bring him to the Autumn Court. Nesta, Elain, and Mor had promised to take care of him while they were gone, and Nyx was probably having the time of his life with his Aunts.

What do you think? Rhys asked Azriel, mind to mind.

Azriel pondered his answer for a moment. I would be willing to do it, but to leave you without a Spymaster for the Cauldron knows how long…

I think we can manage for a little while, Rhys replied, a grin twinkling in his eyes.

Azriel nodded his confirmation. It was true — his court members were not truly useless without him. Just slightly disadvantaged, but they knew how to take care of themselves.

“I'll do it,” Azriel said aloud.

Cassian looked at his brother, eyes widened slightly with silent warning. Amren appeared disinterested in the conversation, but Azriel knew she was listening to every word. Eris simply nodded, as if he already knew Azriel would agree.

“Good,” Eris replied. “I will allow you to share the news with my father in your own time.”

The heir then got up and exited the room, leaving the Night Court members by themselves.

“I need a drink,” Amren muttered.

The following week was a whirlwind. Every morning, afternoon, and evening, the Night Court members dined with the Autumn Court, and the Autumn Court members also showed them their home. It was mostly Y/n showing them around the palace and the grounds, with Autumn guards trailing closely behind.

Y/n was a different person when she was not around her father. She was much more talkative, and quick to joke and tease. After a few days, it was clear that Cassian adored the princess and her witty comebacks, and she clearly enjoyed the freedom of banter with him. It was almost as if they were destined to be best friends. But whenever any member of her family was present, she would go quiet, and exhibit “lady-like” speech and actions.

Azriel had heard many of the Autumn Court’s opinions of her through his shadows, and none of them were particularly fond. Wild, untamed, unlady-like, and irritating, were the words most commonly used to describe the princess in secret, but Azriel had a feeling she did not care what she thought about them. He could tell that she only cared what her father thought — perhaps not for praise, but rather in fear of punishment.

“So, have you decided which of you will be protecting me after this week?” she asked the Night Court members as they walked through the Royal apple orchard. The apples were the finest Azriel had ever tasted, and he wondered whether there was some kind of magic behind it to make them so.

“We have discussed it,” Rhysand replied, plucking an apple from a tree and handing it to his mate. Feyre took the apple with a smile.

Y/n sighed deeply. “I wish I could go to the Night Court with you. It sounds beautiful.”

While the Night Court members had told the princess a little bit about their home, the Autumn daughter was an avid reader, and had mentioned that she’d always been interested in The Night Court. She would read any book on their court a hundred times, and had learned about Starfall, Illyrians, and many other Night Court customs. When Rhys questioned her on the books she had read, she had become slightly evasive in her answers.

“I borrowed them,” Y/n had said casually.

Azriel had raised an eyebrow. “Borrowed, or stole?”

The grin the princess threw his way had set his heart racing, but he had no idea why. “I prefer the term 'mischievously possess.’”

Cassian had barked out a laugh, and even Amren had smiled slightly.

But as well as spending time with the princess, Azriel had other things to do. When she showed him the castle, he memorised it. He marked every exit, window, door, hiding place — everything. If he was to be her bodyguard, he would have to have the entire layout memorised. For her protection, but also for his. He didn’t doubt for one second that if he let his guard down, one of her brothers, maybe even Eris himself, would try to stab him in the back. Literally.

Eventually, the week came to an end, and the members of the Night Court gathered in the Autumn Court throne room. Azriel supposed that bonds had been slightly strengthened between the courts, but not by much. Mistrust was hard to get rid of, especially when there were centuries and generations of it.

“We have come to a decision,” Rhy told Beron, his hands resting in his pockets. “And my High Lady and I shall allow you to employ one of my warriors as your daughter’s bodyguard.”

Beron nodded, his gaze flicking to Azriel for a brief moment before going back to Rhys. “And have you decided which warrior shall be protecting my daughter?”

That glance told Azriel that Eris had been telling the truth. Beron hoped that it was the shadowsinger who would be playing bodyguard, and it made sense now. Although what didn’t make sense was the fact that Eris had not lied.

“Azriel shall remain behind to guard your daughter,” Rhys promised. 

“Wonderful,” Beron said with a nod. “Thank you for this, Rhysand. The Autumn Court shall never forget this favour.”

Rhys nodded at the High Lord, and both of them shook hands, their goodbye quick and brief. The Night Court's goodbyes to Azriel were lengthy in comparison.

“Stay safe,” Rhys told Az, clapping him on the back. “Our mental bridge will be open at all times. Let me know if there’s any trouble.”

“You act as if I can’t take care of myself,” Azriel replied, a half smirk on his face.

Rhys rolled his eyes and brought his brother into a hug, the eyes on them be damned. When Rhys pulled away, Cassian was there next, squeezing the shadowsinger into a hug that nearly crushed his bones.

“I’ll miss you, Azzie,” Cassian whispered in Azriel’s ear, which set him scowling. Cassian grinned and pulled away, Feyre replacing him. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek in farewell, and before Az knew it, the Night Court disappeared into the void, leaving him alone in the Autumn Court.

TAGLIST: @honeybee54321 @marigold-morelli @lucky7rosie @itsswritten @paankhaleyaar @bubybubsters @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @thelov3lybookworm @blushingfawnsposts @thisiskaylin @morganisheree @sleepylunarwolf @bakananya @bookishbroadwaybish @namelesssaviour @glitterypirateduck @sfhsgrad-blog @ash-mcj @feyres-fireheart @ib525 @azrielswhore @copenhagenspirit @eternallyelvish @teenagellamaangel @thisiskaylin @littleladdty

[twstfanblog]

For the manhwa au (no it didn’t take me so long to send this ask because I had to figure out how to spell that shut up 🙈), we’ve heard a lot about the trio and a bit about Rook, Vil, and Leona.

But I want to hear about Yuu’s friendship with Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Ortho, and Idia!!! We haven’t really touched on them at all!

We heard from Ace and Deuce that Riddle was less of a hardass over at Yuu’s place, Ace and Deuce were ready to punch Jamil when delivering his letter for him got them thrown out of Yuu’s place, and apparently Idia cares enough about Yuu to yell at Azul, but I want to know more about their relationships!

They are obviously very close to her. Gimme the platonic love pls. 💜🥺

*cracks knuckles* THIS IS GONNA BE ALOT

Ok! So in terms of Riddle, he was actually just as bad at first but Yuu is pretty blunt as a child, plus she's got the brain of a 20yo also packed in with her 8yo mind. She brings up the fact that this is HER HOUSE, so her rules and her rules state you have to have a bite of tart during tea parties. Not...not the sad cracker veggie sandwiches that his mom made him bring.

Riddle starts to really love being over Yuu's house because he can be free in his own little ways. He can have tarts, he can have as much honey in his tea as he wants. Yuu lets him borrow her overcoats so they can roll down a hill together. He gets to be a KID!

Ace and Deuce like being at Yuu's house because she treats them fairly. Riddle's other noble playmates all see them as merely servants, they're just like...bonus playmates to Yuu. They also know what Riddle's home life is like, they've tried to make it bearable. But Riddle only feels worse when they take blame for things and have to serve his punishments. Which is WHY they reacted so aggressively when Jamil's letter gets them kicked out of Yuu's home. Its the one place they can all just be friends and not have to worry about Riddle's mom punishing them for that.

Idia heard about Yuu for the longest time from Azul, who, due to his own misjudments, saw her as this purely malicous person. But when she's just...a person, he calms down. She's kinda mean, sure, but so is he, so is Azul. She also inherited Crewel's intimidating stare (resting bitch face).

Idia started info dumping when Yuu asked about a book he had brought to their lessons. He realizes hes been talking for like a WHILE and apologies and tries to hide away. Yuu very bluntly tells him, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know and I would have told you to shut up if I got bored." And Idia realizes that Yuu is painfully simple and that's...probably why Azul had a hard time seeing her for what she was.

Ortho is a wild card because (new development) due to some traumatic childhood incident, he's been bedridden since he was basically a toddler. He's on the mend, slowly, but his parents are still very concerned about his wellbeing and don't let him leave the house, and rarely his room.

He and Yuu become friends because during her and Idia having lessons, Yuu started sending Idia home with a book she thought Ortho would like. Idia had started out reading them to Ortho, but then, as he got better, Ortho was able to hold the books himself. He even starts to write reviews that he has Idia deliver to Yuu. They lowkey make a little book club.

Yuu and Ortho meet officially on Yuu's 19th birthday party and they are elated to finally hug each other.

[sunandsstars]

YAWNETU

CHAPTER 4

Jake x Neytiri x Na’vi!Reader

Summary: One other mate was enough, but two? Unneeded. ___ was the outcast, the unwanted woman. Jake and Neytiri wouldn’t ever see her..right? Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Insinuating depression, Mentions of death, Wounds Word count: 2.9k

A/N: Here it is guys! I’m loving the support for the series and rly enjoy reading what you send into my asks. Keep them coming!

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The months went by quick, too quick. Every day was the same for ___, wake up early, do her chores, eat and go to bed. It was a cycle that was never ending and the days started to drag.

Especially since she became swollen with her baby.

The day she found out was one that brought her happiness for the first time in what felt like forever. Mo’at noticed a change, she got tired quicker, her cravings changed her appetite in food and she was more emotional.

“Ma ‘ite, you are with child” the elder grinned, hand on her stomach and pressing down to feel the tiny bump in her skin. ___’s eyes welled up with tears, a smile crawling it’s way onto her face as she giggled and grabbed her mother in laws hand. “The great mother shines upon you, sweet one”

Immediately the woman had to tell her mates, but she hesitated. They have been cruel to her since that day under the tree of souls, the harsh words and hands never stopping their ministrations. It became too much for her and often the Na’vi sought comfort in the woods, where she met Norm and Spider.

The child was a home away from home, her comfort during dark days. Norm often let her have days alone together where she would take the toddler to find fruit, swim in the nearby lakes or show him the beauty of his home. He was her light and she vowed to take care of him. In some ways they were the same, abandoned and alone.

When ___ did end up letting Neytiri and Jake know of her condition, they glowered at her and the female warrior had to step out of their home. Her hormones were often full of anger, taking out her voice on anyone who dared cross her and the healer was often the backend of it. But for Jake’s sake she stepped out for some air.

“We can get rid of it” they were words that were most unexpected, the voice harsh and yellow eyes glared into her own watering ones. Jake and his wife did not want a child from her, they did not need one, he had one on the way and another is one that he just can not and will not take care of. “Mo’at should have something to abort it, go to her”

She’s never stuck up for herself against them, not after the first time. Fear kept her on her knees and she never once talked back. But she had to this time, the words almost forcing themselves out of her.

“No”

“No?” Jake stepped up to her and raised a brow when she didn’t back down.

“No. I will not” her English was heavily accented but was understandable, she brought her hands to her belly as if to protect the growing life from the incoming punches, not wanting her baby to be subjected to the same abuse.

“If you grow that thing we will have nothing to do with it” Jake turned and walked out. His point was made and his statement was clear. They were not her mates and had no custody over her child. ___ held her hands over her mouth as she whimpered quietly, the pain in her heart grew every day and the stress of her incoming pregnancy weighed her down.

They did not celebrate or announce her pregnancy to the clan.

Mo’at was confused, Jake was most happy to shout it out to the whole moon of his future child with Neytiri, why is he not doing the same with ___? Every time she tried to ask the clan leader he seemed to dodge away from her, avoiding any chance to talk. She will get to him for Eywa’s sake.

But if he and her daughter will not speak, she will go to their sweet mate. The Tsahìk found her by one of the rivers near Hellsgate, a small human boy situated on her lap as she spoke to him in both English and Na’vi, pointing at the fish swimming by their feet. Mo’at smiled at them, keeping her steps silent, she has heard of the rowdy boy living amongst the scientists, but has yet to introduce herself to him.

She made a small chirp as to alert them and watched as ___ moved her head back to see who it was and when she saw, her eyes lit up. “Ma Sa’nok, come” she beckoned the woman over and patted the spot next to her. Spider watched as the other lady sat down next to them and took notice of the many beads on her, reaching a tiny hand out to touch one that dangled by her side.

Mo’at chuckled at the child, silently asking ___ if she can pick him up. Once she got the go ahead the elder held him as if he was any other Omaticayan baby, letting him explore the garments she wore. “I thought you would be here, but I did not anticipate another”

“He is Spider, ma sa’nok. One of the children the humans look after” ___ chuckled as the toddler put a bead in his mouth, shooting the women a giggle when they cooed at him. “He is sweet, yes?”

Mo’at could not help but agree, nodding her head as she took one of her hands and placed it against her daughters stomach, right where the tiny bump was. “It has not been announced. Lumpe?” she gave ___ a critiqued look as she awaited an answer.

The woman sighed and watched the fish in the water swirling between her feet, “we have decided to keep it private, for my sake. You know I dislike being in the spotlight like that” she lied and it was obvious. ___ winced as the elder reached up to pinch the tip of her ear.

“You cannot lie to a Tsahìk, we see all” Mo’at glanced out into the forest, watching as the leaves swayed in the breeze and the insects crawl on the trunks of the trees. “I ask again. Why?”

“If you see all, then surely you must know” her ear was pinched again. Yellow eyes connected and ___ sighed, she was afraid to tell her mother in law the truth, afraid that once she did she would be deemed a liar and outcasted by her too. “They did not want too…they do not see my baby as theirs. They do not see me as theirs…” she whispered finally, deciding to let it out into the open.

“I knew it. The bruises, the way they never look at you, they do not care for you. And this? This is them failing to see” the Tsahìk growled but quieted down when the boy in her arms shifted, looking up at her with wide eyes. She patted his head and turned back to ___ who quickly wiped her eyes. “I will speak to-“

“Kehe. I do not want this getting out of hand”

“You need help ma ‘ite” but the woman was insistent, begging Mo’at to let her sort it out on her own. With this baby they will eventually see reason.

They both hoped what she said would be true.

“What did I say?!” Neytiri shouted at the other woman, hissing in her direction and pointing to the basket of beads “you do not touch those! You will NEVER touch those!”. The beads in question belonged to Sylwanin, her dead sister. ___ thought she could just look through them and find a bead for her baby, she knew it was what her old friend would have allowed and have been honoured by.

“She was my friend…” the woman whispered, ears down, hands placed on her swollen belly, rubbing soothingly as to hopefully calm the movement. Na’vi babies grow fast and already Neytiri was nearing the end of her pregnancy with only less than a month left. Not long after ___ would give birth to hers, but for now they continue to turn and kick, responding to their mama’s words and touches.

“She WAS your friend! Not now! Not any more! But she was and will be my sister! Even after death! You have no one, not anymore” Neytiri picked up the basket and placed it on the far end of their home, by their hammock and away from ___’s. Ever since Mo’at found of her conditions, she made sure a suitable bed was given for her to sleep in, a floor was no place for a budding mother.

___ softly cried, her emotions getting out of hand, she picked one hand off of her stomach and wiped her dropping tears. Sylwanin was like a sister to her too, she deserved to have something on her in her memory. Like the bracelet that was on her wrist, the one that they made together as children.

It was as if the warrior could read her mind because she stalked up to the woman and grabbed her arm, eying the beaded string wrapping around the appendage. Neytiri wasted no time and grabbed it as hard as she could, pulling it and watching as the tiny bits of stone clattered around the floor, dropping the twine that weaved through them. “She is not yours to honour! How can you after all that happened?!”

___ cried harder, soft sounds turning into loud sobs as she fell to her knees and tried to pick up the pieces of what was left. “No! Why?! Why must you do this?!” her words earned her a shove to her back from a foot pushing onto her chest.

Neytiri screamed at her “YOU KNOW WHY! You do not deserve happiness! Do not deserve that thing inside you!” having enough, the tsakarem left, climbing down the tree with her fathers bow, going to hunt to cool herself down. If she stayed she did not know what other damage she will do towards the woman.

“Sylwanin, I am sorry” the woman stayed curled up on the floor weeping, looking at one of the beads on the floor in front of her and taking it into her hand, holding it close to her heart. She could not deal with this pain in her heart any more, she needed to take her mind off of it. She could not see spider in this state, the boy, despite a human, has grown significantly. He is already the age of two years and is able to have short conversations with her. If he saw her upset he will become sad too, and she hated to see him sad.

___ carefully got up from the floor, sweeping the beads and taking the broken string, moving to place it inside a small satchel she had in her side of the room. The pregnant woman wobbled over to the entrance and pulled it back, sighing and descending slowly to the forest floor. It was hard for her to move and most days she spent inside the hut, even when Jake’s harsh words made her upset. He called her lazy, yet do not understand the weight of her stomach and the swollen ankles of her feet. Her belly was large, far larger than what was normal for an Omaticayan baby and she was worried for the child’s health, Mo’at says they will be fine though, so she entrusts everything to Eywa’s will.

___ waddled into the forest, only carrying her knife and her thoughts. It was not time for eclipse so she could go to the tree of souls and back in time for bed. She will skip the communal dinner and eat what is left over. She knew it was not healthy for the child she carried, or for herself, but she does not have the will in her to face her supposed mates.

The jungle seamed to glow in the daylight when the Na’vi strolled past, the grass softly swayed beneath her feet and syaksyuk glanced to her in curiosity, swinging away once they have had their fill. She smiled at a mother holding her young, giggling when the baby tried to get closer to her so the Na’vi stopped.

Once the creature neared her it tapped her swollen belly twice, looking at her and running away when their mother hooted for them to go. Smiling at the small interaction she carried on with her journey, it was almost like the great mother is blessing her. The small syaksyuk lifted her dampened spirits until her mind wondered back to the broken bracelet and she sighed, ears turned down once again.

The tree of souls was beautiful, even in the daylight. It’s white tendrils moved and pulsed with energy, almost as if it was greeting her. ___ walked closer and took out her queue, letting the nerves tangle with one of the hanging branches of the tree. Her pupils dilated as she was sucked through the eye of Eywa, coming out of the end of the tunnel and being faced with Kelutral. Her old home.

“And what are you doing?” a little voice sassily scolded behind her, small hand tapping her back thigh and prompted ___ to turn around. The woman’s eyes watered at the sight of a younger Sylwanin, a few years younger than the day the RDA took her life away from her.

“Sylwanin” she tried to squat but found it too hard to properly hold the position so she resorted to sitting down, her hand held her friends own as the girl cocked her head to the side. “It has been too long”

“Srane. Too long indeed. Your tummy is big” the child pointed out and placed a small hand on top of it, feeling the movement of the babe and grinning. ___ was not able to see Sylwanin at the tree since she found out about her pregnancy, Neytiri made sure about that.

___ giggled at her, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. When her eyes opened she was met with the yellow of an older girl, one who was both mature and wise. “Syl’, Neytiri poe -“ the very thought pained her and the pregnant woman squeezed her eyes shut, heart heavy with grief and stress. “I do not understand why - I am sorry” she started to sob, shoulders shaking at the weight of it all.

Her friend held her wrist in her hand and examined it, blood and forming blisters caked it where the bracelet was pulled. ___ wiped her eyes clear, sniffling. She did not notice it before. “You have not been treated well. My sister is being a kurkung” Sylwanin hissed in anger, using her thumb to brush away the rest of the tears that fell down the others face. “But you do not have to be sorry for her mistakes”

“I feel like I had to apologise”

“There was no need” she kissed the wounded wrist and ___ felt no pain, just a soft pressure and a feeling of comfort spread through her body. “You can always make a new one, no? Or better yet, name them after me” she chuckled and pointed to her friends tummy.

___ grinned and rolled her eyes “Sylwanin is a silly name, there is no need” and at that, the mentioned girl pinched the tip of ___’s ear. She let out an ‘ouch!’ and glared playfully, she was exactly like her mother.

“My name would be great for your child, I would have forced Tsu’tey to name our own after me”

“Poor Tsu’tey” ___ laughed louder when Sylwanin slapped her arm. When the joy dulled down, the heaviness of the world came crashing onto her, the mood swings elevating her emotions. “Syl’ I do not think I could do this any longer” she cried out once more, tail thumping the floor and ears pinned to her head “they would treat my baby with harsh words and neglect, that is no way for a child to live…I cannot do this without you. I wish you was here. I wish I still had the bracelet” her eyes produced fresh warm tears that ran down her cheeks. ___ missed Sylwanin with her whole heart and when Neytiri broke her accessory, it was like ripping into her chest and squeezing until she stopped living.

The older Na’vi cupped her face, eyes doe and smile filled with understanding “ma tsmuke, I am always with you. Bracelet or not. I am apart of Eywa. I follow you wherever you go, I see you wherever you turn, I am with you ___. Even if you do not see me”

“I see you sister, Oel ngati kam -“ a sharp pain stopped her watery words, her hand instantly clamped down on her abdomen, breathing ragged. What was this? Another sharp punch and what felt like water ran down her legs. No. It was too early.

Panicked she looked up at her sister who looked as calm as ever, reassuring her frightened body with just a glance in the eye. “You are ready to become a mother. Just breathe ___. Breathe”

Her eyes blinked open and she inhaled sharply, she was back under the tree of souls, no Sylwanin in sight. Another kick in her tummy made her release a shout. She held onto her friends words, like an anchor at the back of her head. She breathed in deeply and let the air out slow.

It was time.

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[mountainsandmayhem]

You're a Brat, Little Dove

Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You play with Joel at your 25 year high school reunion to get exactly what you want. CW: Dom!Joel, Sub/Dom, blowjob, throat fucking, gagging, nipple play, Brat!Tamer, unprotected p in v (they’re in a long-term relationship), oral (f and m receiving), anal play very briefly, pet names, cream pie kink, praise kink, degradation if you squint, denial and edging, NO AGE GAP (Joel and reader are in their 40’s)  A/N: I am absolutely BLOWN AWAY by the love that You're Mine and Stay Still have gotten. Truly, from the bottom of my cold, dead heart I really appreciate your likes, comments and reblogs. Hopefully you enjoy this one, as well. Dividers and banners by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 5.6k

Dress. Check. 

Nude heels. Check. 

2 daytime outfits.  Check. 

Drive home clothes. Check. 

Make up bag. Check.

Stop worrying so much. You’re not even leaving the country, you can buy what you forgot.

“You ok?” Joel asks as he wraps his arms around you from behind.

“Just the usual pre-travel anxieties.” You say, leaning into his warmth. Your arms unconsciously cross over his, hands resting on his forearms. 

“We’re not leaving the country, you can buy whatever you forgot,” you smile to yourself at how well he knows you as his lips press lightly to your temple. “Remember when I had to go out of town at the last minute before our Disneyland trip and you packed for all of us?”

“Mmhmmm,” you say. The memories come flooding in of those two little girls; one dressed as a princess from head to toe and the other refusing to take off her Darth Vader helmet. The latter was far braver on the “scary rides”, and held her sister's hand until they were both giggling and screaming with delight.

“You didn’t miss a single thing - for any of us. Including the nightlight that Sarah couldn’t be without and the granola bars that Ellie claimed were the only things she could have for breakfast.” 

You turn your head and gently press your lips to his. This is the kind of love that people write about. Supportive. Caring. Complete and unwavering trust. Each person is 100% in for the other, willingly giving when the other needs to take, and never keeping score. You don’t judge the other for any sort of anxiety they might be having or help they might be needing. Partners. Through and through. 

A noise from the kitchen brings you back and you break the kiss. “What is that incessant beeping?” 

“That’s your phone,” he laughs while pulling out of the hug and squeezing your sides. “It’s been going off all morning. Someone is messaging you on Facebook.” 

You squirm free of his wandering hands and go to brush your teeth. When you come back out to the kitchen he’s scrolling through the messages in your phone. 

“Who is it?” You ask, getting your morning coffee ready. 

Joel throws his head back, laughing loudly as he reads in a mocking voice, “Hi. Long time no talk. I saw your name on the guest list for the reunion this weekend. Can’t wait to catch up. Looks like you’re single. At least based on your profile. Glad to see you got rid of that goon you were dating in your 20s.” 

Your profile is blank, a picture of you holding baby Ellie the day you officially adopted her is the only thing on there, and you have maybe 15 friends. Truthfully, you aren’t even sure why you have it, even in the heyday of Facebook, you weren’t exactly a share-everything-about-yourself-on-the-internet type of girl.

“Oh god,” you laugh. “It’s Zack, isn’t it?” 

Joel wipes away a tear from laughing so hard. “Each sentence is its own message, but I’m a goon?” He slides your phone across the counter to you adding, “Can I punch him again when we see him?” 

Years ago, while visiting your parents, Zack got a little too handsy when you ran into each other at a local pool hall. Joel was and very much still is, a ‘touch her and die’ type of lover. 

You both laugh as you kiss him goodbye and head to work.

On your lunch break, you updated your profile picture to you and Joel with the girls at their high school graduation. Hopefully, Zack will get the message. By 5 pm you’re rushing home to get out the door and drive 5 hours to your old hometown. 

The minute you walk into the reunion you see women’s heads turning to look at Joel. You can’t say you blame them, Joel Miller is the dictionary definition of a DILF! And tonight, in perfectly tailored black pants, a crisp black dress shirt and black tie, his slightly outgrown curls pushed back, and grey scruff perfectly trimmed, he looks hot as sin. And then, just to add insult to an already smoldering hot injury, he recently came to terms with needing glasses for driving at night. Those black frames should be illegal. 

Over the last few days you’ve been sending him articles about spanking and on the drive up had an open and honest communication about what you both wanted out of it. Deep down you’re hoping tonight is your night, you’re tempted to just go back to the hotel and let him do whatever he wants. Instead, the two of you hit the bar to get a drink before finding a table to sit at.

“Who is that lady in the gold sequin dress with the black hair, almost directly behind you?” Joel asks awkwardly, sipping his whiskey.

You glance around the room, trying to not make it obvious when you catch the one person you don’t want around Joel staring right at him. 

“Lucy Garfield.” You say flatly. “She’s the one that slept with Zack seconds after I left for university. I thought they were married but she is eye fucking you so hard.”

“Gross,” he laughs, his nose crinkling up in disgust. He’s so endearing when he’s joking around with you, “Don’t say eye fucking.”

You laugh, “It’s what she’s doing Joel. I wonder how long before she’s over here talking to you.”

You start pushing your chair out from the table and he grabs your leg, “Leave me alone and you’re dead to me”

“Joel,” you giggle and try to push the chair more, “I kinda have to pee though.” 

“Babe, I'm serious. She scares me,” he says with a shudder. “I can feel her looking at me.” 

“Oh, she’s doing more than looking…” you tease, sliding your chair back in.

“Don’t say it.”

He squirms as you lean in to his ear and whisper, “Eye fucking.”

“I hate you.” 

After a few hours of catching up with old friends, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and grab another drink for you and Joel. When you come out of the bathroom Lucy is alone at your table with Joel. You can see the discomfort on his face as she shows him something on his phone. You’re not jealous or worried, but when Zack approaches you at the bar you decide to have a little fun.

“So you didn’t break up with him after all?” He’s leaning back cockily on the bar, arms crossed, eyes locked on Lucy. 

“No,” you laugh while ordering drinks; whiskey neat for Joel and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon for you. “I never planned to.” 

“I figured. Lucy seems to take a liking to anyone you set your sights on.”

“You would know best, Zack.” You’re still facing the bar, but you see Zack glance quickly in your direction at the dig. “Any advice for poor Joel over there?”

“Don’t leave the best thing that ever happened to you for a gymnast with...” he stops speaking when he looks back to you, seeing you with one eyebrow raised as you sip your wine. “She and I are getting divorced.” 

“I assumed.”

“Oh?”

And that’s when you hear it. Your song with Joel. 

‘I know what you look like in the morning

Your kisses are soft and warm’

Joel looks around the room for you, when he spots you at the bar a mischievous grin crosses your face and you lean in close to Zack. 

“Dance with me?” You whisper, giving him the puppy eyes he never used to say no to. 

‘I can draw you with my eyes closed 

Seen you with nothing on but the radio’

He places a hand on your lower back and leads you to the dance floor before pulling you in close. Huh, you think to yourself, 25 years later and still got it.

You look away from Joel and give Zack a tight lipped smile as the first verse of the song melts into the chorus. 

‘I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh 

The way you tilt your head for a photograph

What other guy knows you like that’

You fight the urge not to look past Zack’s shoulder and over at Joel as Zack’s voice drones on in the distance, telling you about his divorce. 

‘And I can name the first guy you ever kissed’

You can’t help but sneak a glance at Joel. Zack is the first guy you kissed and Joel knows it.

‘I can name the perfume on your wrist’

Joel crosses his arms, staring at you darkly from across the room. Fuck, you think maybe you bit off more than you can chew.

‘What other guy knows you like that’

Joel stands and strides over to you. 

Yes. Got him. He doesn’t look mad, if anything he’s looking at you with dangerous desire in his eyes. Your heart flutters as heat travels between your thighs.

“Babe, we gotta go.” 

Zack starts to protest but you release yourself from his arms and say with a big smile, “It was lovely catching up. Thank you for the dance.” 

As Joel leads you off the dance floor he growls quietly in your ear, “You’ve been a very bad girl, Little Dove.” 

The car ride back to the hotel is silent. Not a word is uttered between either of you, the second the elevator door closes Joel presses you back against the wall.  Towering over you, one of his hands roughly pulls down the right cup of your dress and bra, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and pointer finger. 

You gasp out in pain, but he doesn’t say anything, just glares down at you. As the pain morphs into pleasure you squeeze your thighs together, your panties starting to soak through. He releases you when the elevator stops and turns his back to you, you cover your abused nipple back up before you follow him into your room.

“Clothes off and kneel,” he growls, throwing a pillow haphazardly at your feet.

“Joel-I…” you stutter out. He stalks across the room, only the discarded pillow separating you. 

“I said,” he starts harshly. “Clothes off and kneel, Little Dove.”

You swallow the dry lump in your throat while sliding the zipper down the side of your black dress, letting it fall to the ground. A deep, guttural moan escapes Joel as you kick the dress aside and remove your bra and panties. You’re completely bare for him, nothing but your nude heels left. 

“That’s better. Now kneel.” 

You do as he says, getting into his desired position; hands on your lap and eyes aimed at the floor in front of you. He bends, cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. You expect to see his eyes dark and lips tight, instead, you’re met with softness, his chocolate brown eyes boring into you.

“Little Dove,” he starts, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I am going to punish you for being a brat tonight. Everything I plan to do is things we’ve talked about.” 

“Like what?” You ask as your mouth goes impossibly dry.

“No, you don’t get answers tonight. You’re in trouble. Do you remember your safe words?”

You nod, “Yes sir.”

The colour coding system is how Joel prefers to do things. Red if you need to end things, yellow if you need a break or to slow down, and green to keep going.

His thumb caresses your cheek, “That’s my girl.” 

Joel stands abruptly and your gaze follows him. When he looks down at you, his features are no longer soft. His eyes are almost black, eyebrows slightly knit together and jaw clenched. He snaps his fingers and points at the ground and you immediately obey, shifting your gaze back to where he prefers it. He walks across the room, uncuffing the sleeves of his black dress shirt and rolling them up his thick forearms. You hear the unmistakable sound of him removing his tie and his glasses being placed on the table.

“You were a brat tonight, Little Dove,” he says darkly. “Remind me, do I like brats?” 

“No, sir.” It comes out in a nervous squeak.

Joel stares at you for a while and it’s nearly impossible to keep your eyes on the ground. If Joel had to classify himself, he’d say he was a pleasure Dom. He’d rather use pleasure until you’d beg him to stop, but pleasure is earned, and you used that song and your ex-boyfriend to get to him tonight. He saunters back over and pets your head, just as you start to close your eyes and lean into his touch he grips your hair hard and pulls until you’re once again looking up at him. A shocked yelp comes out of you as you make eye contact. 

“I think you did this on purpose because you so badly want me to spank you.”

“N-no, sir.” 

“No? I bet if I reached in between your legs and felt your pretty little pussy she’d be soaked for me right now. Am I right?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Take out my cock, Little Dove.” 

His grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as you reach up with shaky hands to undo his belt and pants. As you slide his dress pants down his thick thighs you can see him already hard under his tight black boxers. As you lower those, his thick cock springs free, brushing against your face.

“Hands on my thighs,” he barks.

You jump slightly at the harsh tone and move your hands to rest along the sides of his thighs. He moves his free hand to one of yours and taps on your hand 3 times. “You do that if you need to stop. Show me.” 

You tap 3 times on his thigh like he showed you. “Too bad you were such a bad girl tonight. I wanted to please you and not punish you.”

He moves his hand to fist his cock a few times. It brushes your lips as he continues to speak. “Who do you belong to, Little Dove?”

“You sir,” you answer firmly but quietly. 

“That’s right. Open.”

You lick your lips and obey his orders. He lines himself up and slides the tip of his cock in your mouth, pumping his shaft slowly with his hand, the other still locked in your hair. 

“Mine,” he says it like he’s claiming you as he works more of himself into your mouth. You’re surprised how he takes his time, inching in a little before pulling back, letting you swirl your tongue around to get him nice and wet. When he’s finally all the way in, pushing against your gag reflex he groans out, “So…completely…mine.”

You look up at him through your lashes and remind yourself to relax your throat and breathe through your nose, moaning around his cock before he pulls it all the way out. Saliva falls from your mouth and he smirks at you cockily while he fucks himself with his palm, the tip of his leaking dick resting on your tongue. The salty taste of his pre cum sends a fresh wave of arousal to the apex of your thighs, you can feel it gathering on your calves that are tucked underneath you. 

Without warning, Joel starts to fuck your throat. He pushes himself all the way in and you gag around him before he pulls out halfway. He continues this punishing rhythm for a while, muttering darkly about how you’re a bad girl and you deserve to be punished.  

You’re taken aback by how much you fucking love it. Watching him tower above you all big and strong but you know he’s falling apart. He’s becoming putty because of you and your mouth. It’s filthy and slightly degrading, but you realize that you’re the one in control here. You could do this forever and make a mental note to find times to act out more often.  Tears start to run down your cheeks as his thrusts turn sloppy. You know he’s close so you hum around his cock.

“Oh fuuuuck, baby.” He pulls himself out and steps back, strings of saliva falling from his cock and landing on your chin. Your hands hit the ground in front of you as you gasp in a full breath for this first time since he started using your mouth.  The heat between your thighs is starting to become unbearable.

“What did you think was going to happen - huh?” he says in a deep and condescending tone. “That I’d spank you and then make you come?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You’re not sorry though, you’d do it again just to feel that gush between your thighs when he hits the back of your throat. 

“Only good girls get spankings. So let me make myself very clear.” You straighten your spine and look up at him as he goes back to petting your hair. 

“You are not allowed to cum.” His voice is deep and scratchy, you’re sure he could make a living by narrating erotica, but that voice is yours.

A small whimper escapes you as he continues. “I’m going to continue to use you how I want. If I think you’ve proven yourself to be my good girl, you’ll get that spanking you want so desperately. Understand?” 

He almost purrs as he says good girl and it turns you feral. “Yes, sir.” 

He reaches a hand to you and helps you stand. He gently wipes the tears from your cheeks before kissing the tip of your nose. “Get on the bed.”

As you walk to the bed you bring one leg up to remove your heels. “Leave them on. Hands and knees, Little Dove.”

Fuck, he knows this is your kryptonite. And fuck, you’re back to thinking that maybe you bit off more than you can handle. Joel is predictable about his Sunday plans during football season and nothing else. 

After stripping off his clothes he comes up behind you, rubs the warm tip of his cock through your slit and he lets out a deep moan. Both of you can hear the wetness as he moves from your clit to your ass. “Mmmm - my bad girl clearly liked having me fuck her throat. You’re soaked for me.”

A firm hand pushes down between your shoulder blades and your upper body hits the mattress. at this new angle, everything is bare to him. 

“Mine,” he says again before placing a few long, slow licks from your clit to your ass, swirling and pressing his tongue in all the right places. “So…completely…mine.” 

His tongue teases your clit as he lightly teases your ass with the pad of his thumb.  The heat begins to spread to your spine, the world falls away and all you’re left with is Joel.  Joel and his wonderful and magic tongue.  Joel and his ability to make you cum.  His voice from earlier rings through your cries of pleasure, ‘you are not allowed to cum.’

“I…n-no…” you stutter, squeezing all your muscles to stop the orgasm that’s fast approaching. “That’s gonna…I’m gonna!” 

“Don’t you dare, Little Dove.” He bites down on your ass cheek and you yelp in pain, but glad for the distraction from how close you were to finishing. 

“Such a bad little girl tonight.” He says into your skin before continuing to tease you with his tongue, swirling your clit, moving to gently flick your ass, then back to your clit. You never know where his tongue might explore next and you find yourself mentally mapping out each aisle of your favorite grocery store with your eyes clamped shut to distract yourself. 

“I wanna be a good girl,” you beg, utterly desperate to follow his rules tonight. “Please stop. I wanna be good, sir.” 

“Poor thing,” he says mockingly, rising and sliding himself inside you so slowly that you feel every inch, vein, and ridge. 

“Fuuuuuuuccccck,” you gasp as he bottoms out. A small, pleading ‘please’ escapes your lips but you don’t even know what you’re asking for. Your body feels like liquid at this point, every muscle relaxed and every bone somehow missing. It’s a complete state of nirvana, if only he’d let you cum.

“Not yet,” he drags out of you and slams back in, a complete juxtaposition to how he first entered you. His grip on your hips is so tight that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “This is my pussy, mine. Say it.”

“Y-yours…” you manage to whine. “oh fuck…yours Joel.”

“That’s right, babygirl.  Mine. So…completely…mine.”

One of your shoes falls to the ground as he continues to slam into you.  You no longer know the difference between right and left, you just know that one shoe is missing. As you reach back to touch him, he pins your hand to your lower back, sliding almost all the way out before slowly pressing his hips flush with your ass. 

“No,” he says sternly. “Only good girls get to touch.” 

You scream out his name, begging him to let you cum. Joel leans forward and pulls you up, still fully inside of you, he holds you still against his warm chest, the combination of your sweat and his sweat feeling sticky along your back.  

“You like when I use you like this, Little Dove?”

“Yessss,” you whine. You force yourself not to roll your hips even though the need to orgasm is almost painful. The word yellow flows through your mind. You could say it. You could say it and get what you want, but you trust Joel. You trust that he has bigger and better plans for you. 

“Say it,” he commands while rolling your earlier pinched nipple between his fingers. 

“Use me, sir….Please. I want to please you.”

“That’s my girl. My perfect little submissive.”

He pushes you back down into the sheets and fucks you harder. The sounds of skin slapping skin and your moans and squeals fill the room. You tense every muscle again to stop the orgasm that’s right on the surface. 

“Where do you want it, Little Dove?”

“Inside me, sir.”

Joel curses through gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby.” 

“Fill me, sir.”

“Such a filthy little girl. D’you know that?” His voice is strained, you know he’s close and you just have to hold off a little longer. 

“Only for you,” you say through moans and gasps.

That’s what does it and you push him over the edge with your words, the heat of his spend filling you as he lets out a loud moan. “Good fucking girl.”

He moves his hips into you a few more times, filling you so much it starts to leak out. “Fuck, takin’ me so well, soundin’ so goddamn sweet as you beg.” 

He doesn’t stay in long after he cums, which you’re thankful for because you’re sure a faint breeze could make you detonate at this point. He steps back to admire the mess he’s made, using his fingers to push his cum back inside you before sitting next to your knees.

“Get over my knee.” 

You rush on shaky limbs to get over this lap, wiggling your ass in nervous excitement. He uses one hand to pin your wrists behind your back. “Mmm - that’s my good girl.” 

Joel uses his other hand to draw slow circles along your cheeks. His warm and calloused fingers send shivers across your body.  “How many do you think you should get?” 

“10,” you respond sheepishly. 

Joel laughs deeply to himself. “You were a brat. Do you really think 10 is enough?” 

You audibly swallow in response to what you know is a rhetorical question. You didn’t think your pussy could throb any harder, but his voice, his hands, and this position has every nerve in your body aflame. 

“20, and if you behave, I’ll stop at 15.” 

“Please, sir.” The anticipation is killing you.

“Ok. I am going to spank you with my hand 20 times. You are going to count and say ‘I’m sorry’ after each one. Understand?” 

“Yes, sir.”  You try not to whine, but you need to be touched,

“Give me a colour baby”

“Green,” you whisper needily. 

2 sharp and quick slaps hit your ass.

“1 and 2,” you squeal, “I’m sorry” 

Light finger strokes tickle along the back of your thighs and up towards the now stinging skin. Joel’s hand disappears from your body and you tense. 

“Shhh,” his thumb holding your wrist strokes the soft skin. “Take a deep breath, Little Dove.” 

You inhale shakily, as you try to relax on your exhale, his hand comes down again. When the two of you did your research on spanking, all the experts said you’d know the sound of a good spank, and Joel being, well Joel, has taken it to a new level of perfection. His third spank stings, but it’s quickly replaced with a fresh wave of warmth in your core. 

“Three. I’m sorry,” you love how quickly he can turn you into a whining mess.

From that point you’re in a trance. You almost feel like you’re floating outside your body as Joel continues your punishment. You hear your voice counting each strike of his hand.  A rush of adrenaline courses through you after each one and you can feel his spend leaking out and dripping in between your thighs.

“Eight. I’m sorry” 

“Messy messy girl.” He says, swiping a finger up your thigh and through the folds of your swollen pussy, he stays away from your clit but you could scream with how good it feels. “I should make you clean this up.” 

You turn your head, glancing over your shoulder to face him, readying yourself for him to slide his fingers down your throat. Instead, he licks his fingers clean and then lays 3 quick smacks across your ass. 

“Eleven. Oh god,” your body jolts with the first one but by the third you’re rolling your lips into him for friction, you need more. More pain. More of his fingers. More of anything and everything he’s willing to give you. “I’m sorry.”

Joel isn’t surprised to see that you like the pain, but he is surprised by how much he likes seeing you in pain. He was hesitant about this whole thing, worried about hurting you, but you’ve never looked more beautiful. A blush lights your face and neck, a thin sheen of sweat across your body. Your squeals and cries slowly become wanton moans. He knows it hurts you, but he can also see how that pain is temporary followed by a rush of adrenaline and pleasure. 

“Good job, Little Dove,” he rubs the red hand prints gently. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you.” 

You relax into his lap as his praises wash over you. You feel completely submissive to him and for the first time, you feel what he said earlier. You are his. So completely his. 

“My,” SMACK 

“Perfect,” SMACK

“Little,” SMACK 

“Submissive,” SMACK 

They happen so quickly that all you can do is moan loudly in ecstasy, heat flooding your core to the point that it’s unbearable.  Pressure behind your eyes builds as your neediness grows.  

“Fif-fifteen. I’m sorry, sir.” You’re squirming uncontrollably, tears threaten to spring from your eyes.

“Please - please. It huuuurts.” Joel knows it’s not the spanking that hurts, it’s the animalistic need to cum that’s causing you so much discomfort. 

“There’s my good girl,” he growls, sliding 2 fingers deep inside you. He curls them forward into your tight and messy heat. The squelching of his cum mixed with your arousal fills the room.

“Does this feel good, Little Dove?” 

“Please Joel,” you sob through stuttered breaths, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “P-please - don’t stop.”

“Fuck I love when you say please. Did you know that?  How it makes my cock twitch hearing you whine sweetly, asking so nicely.” 

He slows his fingers, he knows how sensitive you are, he can feel your pussy gripping tightly to his fingers and he wants to bring you pleasure now, not push you into overstimulation. “You took those so beautifully, Little Dove. I’m so proud of you.” 

You cry out a thank you, your orgasm is right there, the heat in your stomach and spine ready to erupt and spread to the rest of your body. As you squirm on his lap you can feel his erection growing beneath you. Joel continues curling his fingers against your most sensitive spot, his other hand letting go of your wrists and moving to soothe the handprints he left. The gentleness of one hand combined with the demanding desire of the other sends your mind swirling. 

“Get up, baby girl.” He slides his fingers out from you and you want to cry out and complain before he adds, “I want you to cum on my cock.” 

Joel steadies you as you stand up in front of him, “Hold on, spin around.” 

You do as he says, albeit slightly confused until he presses his lips to the bright red handprints he’s tattooed across your skin. 

Yep, you think to yourself. I’m His. So completely his. 

You lay back on the bed, Joel crawling between your legs. He’s looking at you the way he used to when you first met, taking in every inch of your skin almost as if to commit it to memory. It’s the complete opposite of how he looked at you while you danced with Zack. His dangerous desire has turned to an overwhelming softness. 

“Lift your hips, baby,” he slides a spare pillow under you. 

His strong hands massage your hips gently as his eyes rake over your red and swollen pussy. “Oh - that looks painful, baby. Do you need me to take care of it?” 

You whine out in frustration, “Please, sir. I need to cum. Please.” 

He lets out a whispered ‘oh god’ at your pleas, hooking one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, the other wrapping around his waist as he lines himself up and then leans down to softly press his lips to yours. He slides inside of you slowly and you’re instantly shaking underneath him. 

“Shhh, you’re ok,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you harder, rocking his hips with perfect precision. “I’m right here. I got you, baby. I got you.”

The soft part of his belly grazes your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “Oh god - I’m gonna cum.” 

“There you go, baby. Cum for me.” 

You fall apart around him, your head falling back in a silent cry to the ceiling. A buzz of electricity shutters through your whole body, your walls clenching around him harder than you thought was possible. 

“That’s it,” he says into your neck as he licks and kisses. “Let go for me.” 

His words spread more tingles along your skin, you tangle your hands in his curls and pull his face to yours. Kissing him deeply as you start to come down. He stills inside you as he comes again, sending you into a wave of aftershocks. You swallow his moans in your kisses, you never want this to end.

“Stay here honey,” Joel says, getting up to walk with wobbly legs to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth and carefully wipes you clean. Your body jolts and you cry out when he gets near your clit, he whispers apologies while drying you with a towel.

You start to get up. “Are you ok?” he questions. 

“I have to pee,” you laugh. As you wash your hands you take in your reflection. Your poor nipple is purple from the elevator, you have mascara down your face, and as you predicted, you are already bruising from his grip on your hips. You spin to see angry, dark red splotches along the globes of your ass and you smile at yourself. Fuck, is there something wrong with me? 

Even though you’re exhausted, you practically skip back out to the bed where Joel is holding a big glass of water and some soothing lotion that he purchased weeks ago for this exact moment. He laughs and shakes his head, he knows he’s in for it now seeing how happy you are with yourself. 

“Drink this and then lay on your stomach please,” adding a quick, “you little brat.” 

“So bossy.” You joke and roll your eyes, but you both love this part and as elated as you are right now, you know you need the aftercare so that your anxieties don’t get you later. So, you do as he says. You drink the water and then lay on your stomach. Joel rubs the cooling lotion on your marks and then places long, light kisses along your spine.

“How are you feeling?” He coos between kisses.

“I’m great. That was amazing. How are you feeling? I know you weren’t too sold on spanking me.”

Joel lies beside you and pulls you in, his front presses against yours, both of you using your own arm as a pillow. “Honestly, I’m surprised by how much I liked it. You looked so beautiful the entire time. I didn’t think I would like it, but….” He trails off looking slightly embarrassed, using his free hand to play with your hair. 

“But?” you push.

“But…well a man my age doesn’t get multiple orgasms very often, makin’ me feel like we’re in our 20’s again.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to act out more often. Any cute guys on the job site I can eye fuck?” 

Joel growls as he pulls you over to rest on his chest. “Mine. Now go to sleep, Little Dove. And stop saying that.” 

Tag List: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

Also a special tag for @javierpena-inatacvest because I'm not on a mission to make her a Joel girlie.