#like it looks good but my brother in christ your wrist

[handwrittenhello]

in honor of the wettest game i’ve ever played here’s corvo crawling off into a sewer tunnel to die alone or something

[mywritersmind]

THE BOOTH - LN4

summary : The booth. A notorious club in the heart of london, where y/n and lando met again after two years of silence.

listen up : fewtrell!reader. She sits in his lap. no smut, just hot and suggestive. creepy guy in the beginning! Prob my fav short i’ve written omg

word count : 1732

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“No.” I giggle out of uncomfortableness at the man getting closer to me.

“C’mon, let me buy you a drink.” the man reeks of alcohol and has fucked up teeth. I’ve seen enough. I pull down the bottom of my mini dress as I stand.

“No.” I repeat, pushing past him. The club is crowded and sticky, I see my friends but a hand around my wrist pulls me back.

“Really? Too good for me?” He scoffs in my face but the next thing I know he’s being pushed away from me.

“She is.” The voice comes from the man in front of me, the guy who pushed this dickhead away. “Piss off. She’s with me.”

The guy seems intimidated enough because he gives me a dirty look and leaves. “Thank y-” I pause when the man turns around.

I pause because the man is my childhood crush, brothers best friend, and fucking formula one driver.

“Lando?” I’m genuinely shocked that the britt I haven’t seen in two years is standing in front of me.

“Y/n!?” He looks me up and down, his mouth open, “Fuck… You look good.” I could say the same for him, in a navy button down, jeans, and his jewelry adorning his hands. He’s ridiculously hot.

I laugh, “Careful Lan, my brother could be lurking.” I switch my weight onto one leg as he smirks.

Max loves Lando. Max loves me.

Therefore, Max HATED the thought of us even speaking. We were all friends in childhood but our teens hit and suddenly I was completely off limits. I’m pretty sure he noticed how much I asked about Lando and swore that he would kill both of us if anything happened.

Someone walks behind him, causing him to get closer, his hand brushing against my hip, “Don’t scare me, yeah?”

I bite my lip at the thought, we start walking across the room, Lando’s hand firmly on me now as he ‘guides’ me. “Don’t worry. Idiots in Monaco… which means we have free rein.”

I see his jaw clench, his drink slide onto his lips again, “I’d like to keep my friendship.”

“I’d like to lose my panties.” I’m quick to reply, messing with Lando used to be my favorite thing.

You see, Lando is Max’s best friend. He feels bad lying and this would definitely be considered a betrayal of trust.

But for me… Max is my brother. I can lie and do whatever I want with no remorse. Lando is something I could do easily and as much as it would make me happy to piss off my brother, Norris has always been that one guy in the back of my mind.

“Christ Y/n. Missed your remarks.” We make it to the wall, it’s a bit quieter over here.

“You mean you missed my flirting?” I look up at him, he just bites his lip, hiding his smile.

“I missed you.” He surprises me with this.

“I missed you too.” I push my hand through my hair, “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Really good.” He smiles big and I know it’s because of his racing.

“Watched your win in Zandvoort.” I sigh, “Simply lovely was brutal.” He rolls his eyes, laughing and leaning his head back on the wall.

“Not you too!”

“It was hilarious! I liked it!” I hit his arm and the way he looks at me… it’s like every emotion that I've tucked away and only opened up in the darkness of my bedroom after midnight, comes out then. “I like this too.”

My hand goes to the back of his neck, playing with his curls that shape his baby mullet.

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes cut into me, his voice weak.

“What?” I say innocently.

“You always do this.”

“Do what, Norris?” Lando never was that much taller than me, but something about the two passed years has changed that.

His tongue runs over his teeth, he’s about to say something but two guys appear next to us, “Mate! We’ve been looking for you!” Another British man speaks, Alex Albon to be exact.

“Found a friend?” Carlos sainz eyes me, dressed in all black.

I smile at the drivers, Lando eyes Carlos. “Max’s sister. Y/n.” They both nod and look much too interested in how Lando says it, “Y/n… this is Alex and Carlos.”

“Pleasure.” I smile wide. I am an F1 fan, it’s a bit weird seeing Lando on the grid but I’ll sit and watch with Max almost every weekend that we’re together.

“Pleasures all ours! I’ve always wanted to meet Lando’s childhood crush!” Lando hits Carlos, making him grab his stomach, “Worth it!” The Spanish man chokes out.

Lando scratches the back of his neck, not looking at me. “Are you here with anyone?” Alex asks me, I knew he would be nice.

“Yeah! I’m not sure where they are but…”

“That’s okay. You have us now!” Alex and I end up getting a drink, Lando stays back with Carlos who’s definitely teasing him.

I get a vodka lemonade and four shots. Alex and I are already best friends and laughing so hard that Carlos and Lando won’t stop asking us what’s so funny.

They don’t know that I showed Alex a photo of Lando and I as smurfs when we were five.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

LANDO NORRIS

Describing Y/n is something i’ve done many times. To friends, for context in stories, but if i’d really describe her… I don’t think I would have an ending point.

She’s got long blonde hair. She cut it all off when she was fifteen and I almost fainted when I didn’t recognize her. She loved it.

She’s confident, you can see it in her walk. Her hips sway and the click of her heels is something I'll never forget.

When she talks to you, all attention is on you, her eyes are hazel, appearing brown in the dark but if you get close enough… you’ll see the green.

She never quite had an awkward stage, always been beautiful, probably always will be. I haven’t seen her in years yet she acts like I talked to her yesterday.

Y/n sucks on a lime after her shot, smiling and clapping her hands together, “God, I feel like i’m in highschool!”

I obviously didn’t go to school with her. She’s a year younger and Max would non stop complain about her. She was more popular than him, going out, and was basically friends with everyone.

I remind myself again that Max is the reason why my arm is around the couch and not her waist.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/N

“Norris!” I stand, holding out my hand, “Picture time.” I smile as he stands with me.

“What?” Carlos asks.

“Called the booth for a reason, Sainz!” I grin at the boys, gripping Lando’s hand tight and maneuvering us through the crowd.

There’s one photo booth in the back corner of the club. It’s notorious for famous photos and making everyone look good.

I look back at the boys who all look confused. All except Lando.

We came to the booth when Lando was in town from F2, we were 17 and 18. Max had gone off with some girl and we found ourselves in this exact booth.

We swore never to talk about it.

But I’m all for repeating history.

“Fewtrell…” He warns in my ear as we walk to the starred booth.

I glance back, dragging out his name, “Norris.”

He gets in first, unlike us as teens, only one person can fit. I smile and watch Lando’s face drop, I sit down on his lap, “Playing with fire here, love.” he says in my ear.

“I don’t mind getting burned.” He slips two coins in, his hand moving to my waist and holding me steady.

We smile first.

SNAP

I move a bit and give him bunny ears.

SNAP

Lando clears his throat, gripping my skin tighter as he looks at me. I move again, my skirt riding up a bit. “Trying to kill me?”

I smile and kiss his cheek, feeling something hard against me.

SNAP

“Of course.” I look at him, “The memories in here… You remember?”

“I’d be an idiot to forget.”

His hand moves down my hip, closer to my thigh. I look at him again as the photo booth starts up for the second time, “I shouldn’t.” He whispers, my face centimeters from his. I hear the whistles outside.

I shift once more, turning more to him. He groans, his head falling backwards and his eyes closing, “Give me a good reason.”

SNAP

He opens his eyes, meeting mine. I know I've got him. My hand rests on his neck, my rings pressing against his skin. He mumbles something but it’s too loud, “Speak up, Norris.”

“Never spoken.” His eyes flick to my lips, trying to get me to promise this is a secret.

“Never ever.” He leans in closer.

SNAP

“Come on rule breaker… I believe in you.” I whisper in his ear and it breaks him. I’m pulling his head closer to me, his lips on mine, a relief like no other.

He grabs ass, pulling me closer in the tiny space. I slip my tongue in his mouth, whimpering a bit. He bites my lip. I’m melting into him. It’s hot and needy but so much more than I could have ever wanted.

SNAP

Kissing Lando at Seventeen was scandalous and drunken. Kissing Lando at Twenty Three flat out sexy.

“Need you…” He whispers into the kiss which makes me almost come undone right then and there.

Someone bangs on the booth, “Alright Lovebirds!” Lando laughs but I'm the one to pull away.

“I can’t leave this booth.” He says quickly, his face red and sweaty.

“You’ll be fine-” I understand what he’s talking about when I go to leave and something brushes against my leg, “Oh.”

He looks away from me, blushing.

I smile, proud of myself for the boner and his pink cheeks, “Aw come on! I’ll cover you.” I wink and he rolls his eyes, He walks out behind me, his arms firmly on my waist again.

The two drivers grin at us, “You covering a boner?” Carlos starts but gets punched for the second time tonight by Lando. He holds his stomach again, “Still worth it!”

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[maybankluvrrr]

games

rafe cameron x fem!reader (18+)

warnings: dom!rafe (has soft moments), mentions of vaping, mentions of consent, oral sex (m receiving)

summary: rafe plays little games with you to win back your vape. you are sarah’s long time friend, but with her gone with the pogues, you’ve grown fond of spending time with rafe.

you and rafe have been hanging out as friends since sarah betrayed you guys and left obx with the john b and the rest of the pogues. you’ve always had a thing for rafe, but he’s rafe. first of all, he was your best friends brother and also he was known for his anger issues, freak outs, and overall fuck boy energy. you steered clear of ever catching real feelings for rafe so you wouldn’t ruin your friendship with sarah and to protect your own sanity from his issues. but now with ward and sarah gone, both of your “issues” have fleeted and it’s just the two of you.

rafe just got out of the shower and he gets dressed. when he leaves his room, he finds your vape sitting on the banister of the stairs. thinking you must be preoccupied with some other activity since your vape isn’t glued to your hand. he decides to put it into the pocket of his board shorts and play a little game with you.

he steps down the stairs and sees you’re lounging on the cameron’s big white couch in the living room in the house that now all belongs to rafe, meaning it’s just the two of you in the mansion. you’re watching the olympics gymnastics tournament. rafe couldn’t give a single fuck about whatever your watching and is just excited to mess with u.

“fuck!” you scream when the gymnast messes up on her routine on the bars.

“sheesh, someone’s pressed.” rafe walks in taunting you. “it’s just a fucking girl swinging on bars in a leotard.”

“rafe shut the fuck up, i’m watching.”

rafe’s tongues caves through his cheek, “shit, i thought you knew better than to speak to me this way.”

“i’m sorry just let me watch this.” all worked up, you start patting on your pockets, “for god’s sake, where’s my fucking vape.” you say to yourself.

rafe sits across from you with a smirk on his face, knowing he has your precious little nicotine in his back pocket. he lets you flail around and tear up the couch looking for it for a good 5 minutes until you scream, “jesus fucking christ!! where is this fucking thing.” at this point you’ve gone into the kitchen, sarah’s bedroom that you’ve been staying in some nights, and every bathroom and corner of this house looking for your vape.

you walk back into the living to find rafe man spreading on the couch with your vape hanging out of his mouth with a smirk painted on his face. he chuckles at you as the smoke flies out of his mouth. “this strawberry ice tastes mad good.” he mutters with that same stupid smirk on his face, taking the vape in his hand and looking at it, then back up at you.

“funny” you say sarcastically, walking over to rafe and reaching your hand out to grab the vape out of his hand when he tries to place it back into his mouth, but your stopped when his other hand grabs your wrist.

“sweetheart, it’s not gonna be that easy.” dropping your wrist from his grip.

“rafe, im not fucking around i need it right now” you say desperately, “im not playing fucking games right now. we can share if you want i just ne-”

“y/n” he cuts you off “i think we both know just what you need” he puts the vape into his mouth taking a long hit.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you say, scared he can read your mind. you’ve need rafe for a long time.

“don’t play dumb. why the fuck else would you be staying in my house like every other day for the past 2 weeks. you just have a need to sleep in your estranged best friends room all the fucking time? which happens to be 2 doors down from mine?”

“i-” you say speechless.

“you what.”

“rafe i always fucking liked you okay!!” you finally say.

“there she is.” rafe says dragging out the e at the end of there. taunting you. again.

“there. ok, i said it. can i have my vape back now??”

he continues to take puffs of it all while you’ve been talking, knowing you’ll do anything to get it back.

“i’m not fucking playing games rafe.” you say again.

“who’s the one with the vape? it’s me. sit.” he demands.

you’re weak for rafe and he knows this. you sit next to him on the couch. he waves the vape in front of his face, thinking of what you could do for him to earn your prized possession back. rafes been showing you his soft side the past couple weeks, thinking you were only there to you know, keep the memories of your old friend now that she ran away, but you knew he had to crack eventually. this sweet get up was not gonna last long.

“y/n, there’s one thing you could do to get this little thing back.”

“yeah..?” you say curiously.

“suck my dick.” he says an inch away from your ear.

“rafe..” you say while he kisses your jawline.

“baby, if you don’t want it just say that. i’m really fucking with you, i-if you don’t want to, that’s okay.” he stammers in between kisses. “can’t be playing too many games with you, gotta get consent.”

you turn to face him completely and smash your lips against his, confirming your consent.

you’re now straddling his lap, forgetting completely about your vape and why you ended up in this position. you’re making out sloppily and his hands are roaming around every inch of you body that is shown through your tee shirt and short-shorts. you begin to grind your needy cunt into his dick getting him hard. he knows he has you wrapped around his finger now. you’re blinded in a haze of lust, wanting this for so long.

“so do i have your consent?” he abruptly says breaking this kiss. you scoff and keep kissing him. wiping that stupid smirk off of his face.

“on the floor.” he says. you kneel down onto the floor and unbutton his shorts. stroking him through his thin boxers feeling his impressive length, you got him pretty hard during your make out session by all the grinding over his shorts. you rub his hard dick while looking up at him. “hurry up, baby” he says.

“who’s the needy one now?” you say with a smirk.

“yeah, yeah.” his hands stroking through your hair and bunching it up to keep his grip on your head.

you hastily pull down his boxers and his hard on springs up to hit his stomach. you stroke up and down his length watching the pre-cum spill out of his tip. you slowly lick up the sides of his cock, eliciting small grunts out of rafe. his hand grips your hair harder, hinting at you to hurry the fuck up.

your eyes meet his, and your mouth reaches the tip of his massive length and your hand works the base of his dick since your mouth can’t fit it all.

he pushes your head down further, fucking into your mouth while your hands fondle with his balls. “fuck why did we wait so long for this shit, your mouth his fucking amazing.”

you hum on his dick in response, sending vibrations through his body, letting out yet another grunt from his lips.

he continues fucking into your mouth, “i’m close i’m so fucking close. fuck!!” you feel his dick twitch in your mouth, your mouth finally bottoming him out due to the pressure of his hand on your head and the pleasure this is giving you. the tip of your nose is hitting his stomach while he fucks up into your mouth one last time before his load shoots up into your mouth. “swallow” he says. and of course, you do. “good fucking girl.”

you pick your head up from his long shaft, catching your breath. his hands stroking through your hair trying to calm you down. “shit was i too hard on you?”

you’re too foggy to respond to that question. “where’s my vape?” you say instead.

[macfrog]

hi queenie, love of my life 😌 i’d like to ask the following for 🩵: d’you think there was ever a moment where joel really thought holy shit. she drives me insane… i gotta fuck her. ???

(rly hoping there was 😌)

ily, sister! thanks for the gif. feeling really. normal. about him. right now. oh, yeah. he had his moments. let's get into it.

compensation 1.1k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵 warnings: literally just joel masturbating to the thought of his neighbor. good shit.

she can’t have been older than twenty-five, when she moved in.

hell, she’s not even thirty yet, as it is. she’s too fucking –

you’re too fucking young for him, and that’s the end of that.

at least – that’s what joel’s telling himself, trapped on your front porch. watching you relive the story of the ups driver who almost wouldn't let you sign for his package.

doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, and not the thin tank top you’re wearing.

“…she’s like, how do i know you’re gonna get this to him? i’m like, uh, what the fuck do i want with my boring ass neighbor’s mail? no offense, joel. but c’mon. i’m literally signing for it. anyways.”

you turn, bending down for the box by the stairs, and joel drags his eyes upwards.

his hand shakes at his side. jaw ticks, watching you turn back, the package leaning against your front. your breasts – oh, jesus.

he swallows. his throat feels like carpet burn.

“’s heavy,” you mutter, edging towards him. “rock collecting?”

“mind your business,” joel clips, slipping his hands around the box. the back of his wrists brush against the swell of your breasts, and he stares so intensely at his own address on the label that he hopes it’s burned forever into his vision.

you huff as the weight passes into his hands. a little sigh.

something twitches beneath his belt buckle.

joel sits the box on his hip. “well, thanks for this. and for calling me boring.”

you cross your arms. it only pushes your tits up more. “stay humble, old man.”

he should walk away. right now. he should take his package, and his pride, and the fucking rock in his jeans – and head on home.

but then you slump against the doorpost, one ankle crossing over the other, and say, “s’posed to get pretty hot this summer.”

“’s already pretty hot.”

“hotter, jackass. they’re sayin’ record temperatures.”

“they say that every year.”

you poke at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. the way you always do, when you’re trying to annoy him.

and it’s working.

“actually, uh –” joel shifts between feet, “– i was gonna ask you a favor.”

“mhm?”

his gaze trickles down your figure. each curve and swell of supple skin. the shorts he’s getting a little too used to seeing you in, too used to looking for. your bare legs, and the glow of sun on them.

when he looks back up, you’re smirking at him.

christ, he wants to wipe that smirk clean off your face. wants to twist it into something darker, something…something louder, and filthier, and –

“joel. hellooo?”

you wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps back.

“huh? oh, shit. sorry – i, uh…” a flush rises like an inferno up his neck. he shakes his head, fighting it off. “yeah. a favor.”

“you good? don’t pass out on my porch,” you warn. “wait until you’re back on your own land to do that.”

he breathes a laugh – panting, almost. “i’m good. i just – i need someone to water my, uh – my plants. i’m outta town next week, visitin’ my brother. if you wouldn’t mind…”

he feels like a fucking moron when he finally meets your eye again.

you blink back at him, frowning. head tipped, looking him up and down. “i don’t mind,” you say, something cautious in your voice, “but i expect generous compensation for my time.”

“compensation,” joel agrees, nodding. he’d do anything to be off this goddamn porch right now. “how about i’ll owe you one?”

“works for me.”

“alright. thank you, again,” he holds the package up, “and, uh – i’ll see ya.”

he’s gone before he hears your response.

too young. she’s too young. you’re so young. goddamn it.

you drive him fucking insane. you and your little shorts, the simper on your face. he swears he could see through the white of your top, two perfect circles where –

oh, fuck.

he spills into his bathroom, a heavy hand slamming down on the valve. the water roars from the showerhead, louder than the blood in his ears.

joel hauls his tee over his shoulders, the fabric peeling from his muscles and crumpling in a damp pile on the floor. he shucks the rest of his clothes off, kicking them to the side, and steps straight into the cubicle.

he looks down, and – fucking hell.

his cock sways between his legs, all rosy and already dripping. he can feel his pulse hammering at his tip; hisses when the stream sprays over it.

his hand lifts, curving around air.

shit, he just wants to touch himself. wants to relieve the ache between his hips. he has to.

he balls his fists against the tiled wall. his head drops low between his shoulders. the water pours down over him, pastes his dark hair in soaking flicks around his face. he can taste the salt of sweat and sun as it slips from his skin.

once. if he only did it once, would it matter? he’s hard now, anyways. there’s a quick fix.

you just – you caught him off-guard. he only went over there to pick up a package. he didn’t fucking know you’d be – oh, christ – he didn’t know you’d be in that shirt. no bra, no nothing beneath it.

he can still feel the plush of your tits on his knuckles. the way they moved as you leant against the doorframe. he can still see the summery shine on your skin.

he thinks about slipping his hands under the hem of your tank. up, up, up, across your smooth skin until he’s cupping them. squeezing them; circling his thumbs over the hardening peaks.

the short breaths from your lips, your smirk melted into a delicate o-shape. voiceless, nothing but whimpering and gasping when his teeth take your nipple.

before he even realizes it – he’s stroking his cock.

and quickly.

he groans, lips turning to his bicep. he bites down on the skin, hard.

he’d slip your shorts down your hips; see whatever slutty little panties you wear. he’d pull your thighs over his shoulders, unfold your sweet cunt and –

“shit,” joel pants, hips stuttering. his fingers splay out on the slippery tile.

you’re so infuriating. loudmouthed and fucking bratty. and he could shut you up, he knows he could. he’d sit you on his cock, wrapped perfectly around him, and fuck you dumb. fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, soaking mess.

fuck you with that scrap of a tank top on. tits bouncing beneath it, the fabric riding higher and higher until they’re exposed.

what a good fuckin’ girl, taking all of him. letting him split you open, letting him fuck you raw. so big he’ll leave an ache deep inside you; so hard that he makes you come three times over before he’s even close.

but – fuck, he’s close, right now.

“c’mon, baby,” he mutters into his skin. teeth gritted; fist so tight the skin threatens to split across his knuckles. “make me come, c’mon.”

it’d dribble from your cunt, and he’d push it straight back in. make damn sure you keep it all in there, make damn sure you’re walking around all full of him. the seam of your thighs slick, semen seeping into your panties.

“goddamn,” he groans, and with a throb, coats the shower wall.

his cock twitches, pulses until he’s empty. the ache begins to thaw.

he shuts the shower off, still massaging his softening dick as he steps back out. he lifts a towel and drags it across his tingling body.

and he swears, when he notices the sun dipping below your roof –

it will never happen again.

[tightjeansjavi]

Slow Hands | Chapter 7

“the losin’ touch, the waiting game”

A/N: so originally this was not going to be a super long chapter, but I felt like a lot needed to be said and boy, was I right. This is another angsty one, but I promise there will be more development of Joel & Beanie’s relationship coming in the next chapters!

Summary: Joel faces punishment for his violent actions towards Lucas. Tensions rise when Joel makes some accusations that test Tommy’s loyalty towards his brother.

~word count: 8.3k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! reader

Warnings: angst, family arguments, bigotry, picking favorites, punishment, tension, trauma responses, alluding to depression, explosive anger, resentment, violence against an animal (not depicted but there’s enough detail for assumptions to be made) mentions of a bullet wound, deprecating negative thoughts, mild gaslighting, unknown motives, mixed emotions, making up, starting over, soft Joel!, protective! Joel, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions (skin color/body type) readers nickname is Beanie (coffee beans) +18 minors dni!

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“Joel, do you know why the community that Tommy and I have built here has been able to thrive for so long?” Maria inquired her brother-in-law who was presently sitting across from her and Tommy. In short, Joel was brought in for questioning after Lucas showed up to Doc's home a few nights back with his broken wrist and a layer of skin missing from the side of his face where Joel had it shoved against the stone wall.

Word had traveled fast through the community, and Tommy clearly didn’t have his brother’s back.

Joel was irritated to say the least. He was hurt by his brother, hurt by Ellie, and by you. He knew you didn’t have the intentions to hurt him, and he couldn’t hold it against you, but man, did it sting.

“Because you don’t condone violence amongst community members.” He gruffly responded under his breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw was clenched under the sunlight peeking through the windows as he grinded his teeth together.

“Exactly, so what do you think happens when someone in our community acts out violently?” Maria mirrored his actions as she leaned against the bar countertop with a deadly serious look on her unamused face.

“For fuck sakes, Maria. You ain’t have to lecture me like I’m a goddamn kid. Jus’ fuckin’ reprimand me for my actions and get on with it.” He snapped.

“Don’t talk to my wife like that, Joel. Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Tommy chimed in as he stood up from his chair but Maria held her hand out in a stopping motion, giving her husband a warning look.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. You’re actin’ like I killed the guy! I broke his wrist and roughed him up a bit. You both realize I could have made it so much worse, right? What the fuck else was I supposed to do? You saw the emotional state Beanie was in after Lucas grabbed her! Y’wanna reprimand me for doin’ what I feel was the right thing? Be my guest, but I won’t sit around here another fuckin’ minute while you lecture me for it.” Joel threw his hands up in the air frustratingly. He didn’t like to be put on the spot, especially by his own family.

“You’re off patrol for two weeks. You are not authorized to leave your house under any circumstances. Tommy will bring you your meals. If you demonstrate good behavior, then I’ll allow you to return to patrol before the two weeks are up.” Maria spoke calmly.

“You’re forcin’ me into fuckin’ isolation? Wonderful. Ain’t like I don’t already know what that feels like on a personal level.” He grumbled under his breath as he stood up from his chair in a haste. He had nothing left to say to either his brother or sister-in-law, and even if he did, it would have fallen sharp on his tongue from the anger that was simmering in the pit of his stomach like a kettle on the stove just waiting to boil over.

He didn’t even pay attention to the sound of the bar stool scraping behind him as he shoved open the bar door on its hinges before storming out. Tommy was right behind him, calling his brother’s name as his palm came to rest along Joel’s shoulder.

“What the hell is the matter with you, Joel?!” Tommy hissed under his breath as the older Miller brother whirled around to face him with a stern look.

“You didn’t even bother to fuckin’ defend me, Tommy! What the hell happened to havin’ each other's backs?! You knew exactly what I was gonna do! Don’t stand there lookin’ at me like that as if you wouldn’t have gone and done the same if it was Maria havin’ a fuckin’ panic attack on that goddamn bathroom floor!” Joel snapped as he yanked his shoulder from his grip.

“Defend you?! What in god’s green earth would I defend you for?! You assaulted Lucas! Every goddamn person saw you drag him into the alley, Joel! This has nothing to do with Beanie, and everythin’ to do with you tryin’ to be the bigger man! For fuckin’ what? To burn some steam off?! Lucas grabbed her arm! He didn’t grab her in a malicious way, Joel!”

“Oh, so that just fuckin’ makes it okay?! You’ll defend him but not your own goddamn flesh and blood? So be it.” Joel spat as he jabbed one of his fingers directly in the middle of Tommy’s chest. “Y’know what I fuckin’ think? I think you’re a goddamn pussy, Tommy. I don’t regret what I did, and I’d fuckin’ do it again in a heartbeat. So don’t even bother bringin’ me my meals. I don’t want to fuckin’ see your face.” His voice cracked as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. Tommy could see his finger trembling as his brother struggled to keep his composure.

“I never fuckin’ said that it makes it okay, Joel! Did those words leave my goddamn mouth? No. If you would just let me fuckin’ finish? Lucas shouldn’t have grabbed her. He had no right to touch her, but Jesus Christ, did you really have to go and break his fuckin’ wrist for it?” Tommy sounded exhausted and on the verge of defeat.

“If I didn’t go out there and teach him a lesson, then no one would. If that kind of behavior goes unpunished, what kinda message do you think that sends to the community?” He was awaiting Tommy’s answer but when he didn’t receive one, he scoffed under his breath and turned on his heel to head home.

Tommy did agree with him. That kind of behavior couldn’t go left unpunished, but he couldn’t argue with his wife and her judgment on the situation. He was between a rock and a hard place when it came down to taking his brother’s side, or his wife’s. Joel’s behavior had to be addressed, but what of Lucas’s and Seth’s? Was he really about to let bigotry fester like an open untreated wound in his community?

“Joel..” Tommy uttered in an unsure tone.

“What?” Joel muttered back in a bitter gnawing tone.

“I’m sorry.” Tommy wanted to say more. He should have said more, but he couldn’t find the words.

“No, you ain’t. You ain’t sorry for shit, Tommy. Couldn’t even defend your own goddamn brother back there? Fuck you. I’m done here.” Joel snapped before he walked off, leaving Tommy in the dust.

Tommy was going to have to swallow his ego one way or another, he was going to have to swallow it and not throw it right back up. So that’s exactly what he did, he swallowed down his pride with one hefty gulp before he walked back into the Tipsy Bison where Maria was still standing in the same position she was in previously before Joel had stormed out.

“Maria, we oughta think about this whole situation through a lil’ more rationally. I ain’t sayin’ we shouldn’t reprimand Joel, but takin’ him off of patrol for two weeks ain’t the way to go about it.”

Maria raised an eyebrow in her husband’s direction with a tight shake of her head. “So, Joel throws a hissy fit and you then decide to take his side? Tommy, he assaulted Lucas. He broke his wrist. He’s lucky we aren’t fucking throwing him out of town. I could have easily exiled him, but felt that was too harsh of a punishment to instill on my brother-in-law.”

“Maria, I hear you, but what about Lucas’s actions? Seth’s? If we’re gonna punish my brother, we should punish them as well. You and I both know I’d never let you throw my brother out. Don’t even bring somethin’ like that up.” He warned her with a disappointed tilt of his head.

“How do you propose that we reprimand them? It would be unfair if their punishment was as severe as Joel’s. Neither of them acted out in a violent manner, Tommy.” Maria attempted to reason with him.

“Maria, with all due respect, Seth called Ellie and Dina a homophobic swear. He harassed them in fuckin’ public. You and I did not witness the way that he grabbed Beanie. No one did because they were in the corner outside of the bathrooms. He claims all he did was grab her arm, but how are we to know for certain?”

Maria let out a sigh as she dropped her arms at her side. She did not enjoy disagreeing with her husband, but it came with being a leader. If Joel goes unpunished for his actions, what kind of message does that send to the community? On the same token, Seth and Lucas’s behavior was unacceptable as well. “Okay, let's meet in the middle on this issue then. Joel is off patrol for 1 week and he’s on house arrest during the evening. Lucas and Seth will be on septic tank duty for that week.”

“I don’t think it's wise for us to take Joel off patrol at all. Maria, he’s one of the most able bodied men that we have. Takin’ him off patrol could put the town at risk. I’m jus’ sayin’ that I personally don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“We have more than enough able bodied men on patrol, Tommy. One week without Joel isn’t going to be detrimental.”

Tommy let out a sigh as he shoulders slumped forward knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to convince her. Maria was pretty damn hard headed when she needed to be. “Alright. I ain’t gonna argue any further. I’ll let Joel know, but after he’s cooled off a bit. He was practically steamin’ out there.”

It was Ellie’s suggestion that her and Dina go and check in on you. It had been days since you left your home since the incident at the Tipsy Bison. You were practically rotting away on the couch in the same spot that Joel left you. Still dressed in the same clothes, with the cup of tea he made you left untouched on the coffee table. You watched the sun rise, and fall each day. You heard the birds chirping outside the window, and the buzzards singing their song, but you did not move. It was as if you were dead from the inside out. Your skin felt filthy after being unwashed, and you could faintly taste copper along your tongue where you had chewn the fleshy bit of your cheek to ruin. Your cuticles were torn with crusted blood along the edges. You welcomed the pain with open arms. You couldn’t even recall tearing your nail beds to shreds.

When you heard the faint knocking at your front door your head just barely turned to acknowledge the sound. You could hear two familiar voices just outside the open window where the cream colored curtains billowed softly in the breeze.

“Hey, Beanie?” Ellie called. “You in here? It’s jus’ Dina and I. Can we come in?”

No answer.

“Well, it’s rude if we just barge in there, El.” Dina whispered.

“It’s been days since anyone has seen her, Dina. We gotta make sure she’s alright.” Ellie whispered back.

You blinked slowly at the clicking sound of the front door being opened.

“Beanie?” Both girls softly whispered amongst each other as they stepped inside.

“In here.” You croaked. Your throat felt raw and rubbed dry like scratchy sandpaper. Was it not just days ago where you had moments of wanting to kiss Joel? Now look at where you lay.

“Oh, Beanie..” Dina trailed off as her and Ellie discovered your curled up frame on the couch.

You diverted making eye contact as the two teenagers approached. Kindness felt so foreign to your skin.

“Have you been laying here all this time?” Ellie asked as she lowered herself along the edge of the coffee table.

You meekly nodded in response.

Your sullen eyes slowly flitted up when you saw the look that Dina and Ellie gave one another. It was the look of concern, not pity.

“Can we help you up?” Dina softly asked as her hand reached out to gently touch your arm.

“No.” You whispered as you turned your face into the pillow.

“We gotta getcha out of the clothes and into a bath or somethin.’ Can’t just let you rot away like this, Beanie.” Ellie was so much like Joel that you would have believed that she really was his own blood.

“Please don’t touch me.” Was all you could muster out as Dina slowly retracted her hand.

Dina and Ellie opted to sit with you instead until Ellie grew curious when she noticed your record collection on the nearby bookshelf. “Y’mind if I take a look at these?”

“Knock your socks off, kid.” Well, at least your humor hadn’t shriveled up and died in some hole too.

Ellie didn’t need to be told twice as she pushed herself up from the coffee table and padded over to the bookshelf. She was extremely careful as she flipped through the records. “Woah, Stevie Nicks? What I wouldn’t have given to see her live.” Ellie murmured softly.

“She was incredible. Saw her for the first time in ‘87. I was just a teenager then. Stevie always had somethin’ special. Grew up listening to her along with Zeppelin, Queen, Depeche Mode, just to name a few.” You mumbled as you slowly sat up from the previous fetal position you had been in.

“Holy fuckin’ shit. You saw Stevie live?!” Ellie lit up like a goddamn firefly as she set the record down gently.

“Kid, I've seen them all live. The 80’s and 90’s were a time to be alive. My friends and I went to as many live concerts as we could. Traveled around the country at one point in an RV. Totally tried the whole groupie thing for The Rolling Stones. I may or may not have kissed Mick Jagger at one point. He was definitely way too old for me, but as a teenager I could have given two shits.”

“Oh my god, you kissed Mick Jagger? Beanie, you swear you ain’t makin’ this all up?” Ellie and Dina were both immediately drawn into your past as you recalled memories being a teenager back in the day.

“I swear on my parents grave, I am not making this up. Back then concerts weren’t all that expensive, and my parents were pretty big hippies so I had a laid back childhood and upbringing. They were always playing music in the house and took me to my first concert when I was 10, and from there the rest was history.”

“Do you have any pictures? I love Depeche Mode. I listen to them on my walkman frequently.” Ellie stated excitedly.

“I’ve got what’s left of the pictures I salvaged after outbreak day. They’re upstairs. I’ll go and get them for you girls.” Suddenly the world didn’t feel like it was weighing down on you like a bag of bricks. Your lungs breathed in a hefty gulp of fresh air, and it no longer felt like you were drowning in an endless sea. It had been years since you brought up your past, but to see both Dina and Ellie show genuine enthusiasm and curiosity? It sent a warmth simmering up your spine.

It didn’t take very long for you to find the box of pictures inside one of your dresser drawers. They were a fair bit dusty and faded, but they instantly brought back wonderful memories that you clutched so tightly to your heart. You shared the same giddy excitement as the two teenagers on your couch as you brought the pictures downstairs.

You sat comfortably between Ellie and Dina as you went through each picture in vivid detail. You were Texas born and raised, and you were damn proud of it. Your parents were the definition of peace, love and happiness. They raised you with goodness in your heart and harmony in your soul. You learned to share your space with simple living things. You always had a soft spot for animals with the dream of becoming a veterinarian from the day you could walk. Turns out, you couldn’t stomach blood very well so Vet school was out of the question. This didn’t deter you from saving every injured creature that would cross paths with you.

The yearning to own an establishment came later in life. At first you thought about opening an art store, apothecary, nursery, or even a bookstore. Coffee was one of your favorite pleasures, and that’s how cuppa smiles came to be. That was the beauty of life at its core. You could wake up one day and decide that you didn’t want to be the person you were presently. You could change your looks, your wardrobe, your aspirations and hope that you got it right this time around.

“Hey, Beanie? Would it be alright if I kept this picture of you?” Ellie asked. The picture was of an 18 year old you. It was graduation night and you were in the back of some guy's pickup truck with a bottle of cheap champagne in your grasp. Your smile was bright and full of life. Eyes wild, filled with mischievous as you grinned at the camera. You were the epitome of beauty. A woman who had made it, and had her whole life ahead of her.

“Sure, you can keep it. I haven’t looked at these photos in years, so it’s nice to see them getting some attention. Is there a specific reason why you wanna keep that one?” You asked with genuine curiosity.

Ellie turned, looking at you with a knowing smile as she held the photograph gently between her fingers. “You just look beautiful and happy.” She murmured with a shrug. Little did you know..Ellie had all the intentions to pin the photograph up on the fridge at Joel’s right where he could see it every morning, and every night.

“It was graduation night. I was absolutely drunk out of my goddamn mind in that photo. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall out of the damn bed of the truck. That dress I was wearing was a real killer too. It was my favorite.” You looked over at her with a small smile tugging on your lips.

For the rest of the afternoon you told the teenager’s more stories, played a few albums on your turntable. Suddenly, taking a shower didn’t seem so terrible anymore. Ellie and Dina gave you your privacy as you bathed, but they stuck around to keep you company through the approaching evening hours.

For a moment that voice inside of your head was muffled, gagged by kindness and unable to lash through it with its sharpened claws. One night of peace seemed a hell of a lot better than none.

Whenever Joel was feeling particularly stressed, he would turn to the domestic comfort and safety of his woodworking shop that was tucked away in his shed behind his home. He did have a little workspace upstairs in his room. His shed was like his own personal safe haven. He could escape there for hours while his hands crafted something beautiful. The same hands that could break a man’s neck in one swift movement could also be held steady while he carved intricate details. Antlers for a moose, swift hooves for a mustang, delicate ears of a doe. Hands that could bruise, and hands that could heal. Hands that clutched a knife and held a life between his weathered fingertips. Hands that grasped a gun like it was an extension of his body. Hands that would tremble, hands that were bruised, torn, broken. Hands that could hold your face so tenderly, so softly as the rough texture of his thumbs brush your tears away.

The rain was softly pattering along the roof shingles as he was working on his newest piece. It was two horses nuzzling in an affectionate way. It was Tex and Tess. He was working on the wispy strands of your mare’s mane when he heard footsteps slowly approaching the small space between the open door. His undamaged ear zoned in on the exact movement as he deciphered who it was. It wasn’t Ellie. It wasn’t you..so that narrowed down his choices immediately. Based off the distinct sound of hesitation, Joel knew it was Tommy and his demeanor already shifted as he tossed his chisel into the nearby toolbox before crossing his arms over his chest with a gruff sigh.

“I come in peace.” Tommy reassured his brother as he gently pushed open the shed door with his shoulder.

“Y’sure about that Tommy? You ain’t come here to rub salt into the wound?” Joel muttered under his breath, nostrils flaring slightly. He was still pretty fucking pissed off at his brother if it wasn’t obvious enough by his body language alone.

“No, i’m here cus’ I was able to get through to Maria on decreasin’ your punishment.”

“Wow.” He huffed, “It’s a fucking miracle.” He deadpanned with a tight shake of his head. “Y’tell her it’s a fuckin’ stupid idea to take me off patrol?”

“Well, I was able to convince her to decrease your punishment to one week off patrol instead of two. I tried to tell ‘er that it’s a risky decision to take you off patrol, but she wouldn’t listen.” Tommy responded as he sank down into the chair nearest to the door.

Joel scoffed as he jaw clenched tightly. “Listen, I respect your wife, Tommy. I’m all for women’ bein’ in leadership roles, and she’s done a damn good job keepin’ this town safe, but she’s got some poor fuckin’ judgment right now. I give it one day before someone gets their head blown off out there.”

“Joel, what the fuck else was I supposed to do, huh? You’re fuckin’ lucky she didn’t decide to throw your ass out.” Tommy bit back.

“She’d be a goddamn fool if she threw me out. She jus’ wanted to make an empty threat so you’d be an obedient husband. She never wants to admit when she’s fuckin’ wrong. Whatever, I'll eat my goddamn punishment with a smile on my face.”

Tommy rang his fingers through his hair with a sigh as he sank back into the chair. “Yeah, well I personally think Lucas and Seth are bein’ let off easy for their actions. They’re gettin’ a week on septic tank duty.”

Joel turned in his chair fully as it scraped across the ground. He let out a full on belly laugh as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ septic tank duty?!” He hissed. “Y’gotta be fuckin’ jokin.’”

“I ain’t.”

“Lucas has a broken fuckin’ wrist! How the hell is he gonna do shit? Not to mention he’ll jus’ find a way to get out of it. Seth is jus’ an old racist n’homophobic fart. He’d rather drop dead before he takes a punishment.” Joel could feel his blood begin to boil at the distaste towards Maria’s choice of punishment.

“Joel, I know you ain’t a fan of Lucas cus’ of how he grabbed Beanie, but you’re gonna drive yourself mad holdin’ a grudge like this. Seth is your stereotypical dickhead, and if I had the authority to kick him out myself? I would.”

“It ain’t have anythin’ to do with Beanie, Tommy.” Joel was quick to snap back. “I don’t trust the guy. Y’remember when we found those bodies in the woods? He barely blinked an eye! He’s got the whole goddamn town wrapped ‘round his finger just cus’ I broke his poor poor wrist. He’s like a snake, i’m tellin’ ya!” He spoke exasperatedly without a care in the world if he was making some wild accusations. Accusations were only false until evidence was presented to turn that false claim to be true.

Joel watched as his younger brother scrubbed his hand down his face with a roll of his shoulders. “Jesus Christ, Joel. Do y’hear yourself right now?! Fuck. Y’can’t be goin’ n’makin’ these wild accusations without any evidence to back it up! Look, I ain’t a huge fan of the guy either, but I ain’t gonna be wavin’ my finger around like you are.” He shook his head disappointedly.

“Course you ain’t. Why don’t ya jus’ go’n turn a blind eye like everyone else then. Go ahead and be a fuckin’ sheep, Tommy.”

Tommy breathed in deeply through his nose with his eyes squeezed shut. He knew that Joel was smart. Smarter than most of the community would believe him to be. Joel also wouldn’t go and make wild accusations without having valid emotions set behind it. If Tommy was going to prove himself to be loyal to his brother, then he was going to have to start making those tough choices now.

“Alright, lets jus’ calm down here for a second, alright?” Tommy tried to reason with him.

Joel was dead silent as he leaned his weight against the chair with a stern look crossing his weathered features as he waited for his brother to continue.

“If you’re suggestin’ that y’wanna start keepin’ tabs on Lucas’s whereabouts, you better have a damn good plan at not gettin’ caught. Cause if this whole thing goes up into fuckin’ flames? Y’know I ain’t gonna be able to defend you without a solid amount of evidence. I’ll take the bullet for ya, but you better give me a damn good reason to, Joel.”

“That’s exactly what i’m suggestin’, Tommy. Maybe I've got it all wrong. Maybe I'm losin’ my mind, but somethin’ about him ain’t sittin’ right with me. If I'm proven wrong, there won’t be a bullet for ya to take.” His tone was much softer now as he un-tensed his shoulders and jaw.

“Alright. Y’do what you gotta do, but don’t let anyone, and I mean anyone, figure out what you’re up to.” Tommy declared in a serious tone as he pushed himself up from the chair.

“Thank you.” Joel murmured.

“For what?” Tommy asked with a slight raise of his brow.

“For havin’ my back.”

“That’s what brothers are for ain’t it? Jus’ don’t make me regret it, Joel.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Tommy responded with a slight nod before he was slipping past the shed door and into the steady rhythm of rain.

Joel sank back further into his chair as he faced his work bench once more. He gently blew off a bit of wood dust that had settled along Tess’s delicately carved forelock. He worked on the sculpture for hours into the late night until he inevitably fell asleep at his work bench with the soft pattering of rain to lull him into slumber.

Maria was eating her words after one day of not having Joel on patrol. Cody was grazed in the shoulder by a stray bullet that was shot at point range from the nearby treeline. Raiders, no doubt. This one was just a scout, but a skilled one. Not as skilled as Tommy, who ultimately took him out.

Maria dismounted from her horse as Tommy was checking the body for any clues. Any information that would lead them to the raider camp. His search was fruitless. Unrewarding as he crouched down along the bloodstained earth with a sigh. His eyes narrowed in on where his bullet was buried in the scout’s temple, right between his eyes that were now staring up at the dove gray sky, cold and lifeless for eternity.

“I told you it wasn’t a wise idea to take Joel off patrol.” He muttered under his breath as he stood up straight.

Maria ignored her husband as she stood over the body. “Are there others?”

“No. Jus’ the one. That ain’t to say that this one didn’t come from a camp. Most likely was a scout.”

“I thought they would have moved on by now. What the hell are they sticking around for?” She asked with a shake of her head. As far as she was concerned, the raiders should have moved on by now. What was their purpose for sticking around? There weren't nearly enough of them to devise a plan of attack on the town.

“No clue. What I will say is that we’re gonna have to patrol the area more frequently. Expand our routes in every direction. More importantly, Joel is back on patrol startin’ tomorrow.” He leaned in close to his wife as he spoke. This wasn’t him asking for her permission, this was him telling her.

Maria didn’t argue with him.

Joel was back on patrol the following morning. He remained neutral with his sister-in-law. He felt no reason to be smug, especially when he was trying to keep a low profile on himself. It did come as quite the surprise when Maria showed up on his doorstep to personally ask him herself. Now, he was back in the saddle on Tex with the strap of his rifle resting across his shoulder as he rode next to Tommy.

It was fairly quiet as Tommy mapped out the next patrol routes to take. Tex and Timber were as quiet as two mice as their sturdy hooves flattened the earth beneath them. There were no alarming signs of raiders. No danger that could be detected as Tommy placed a marker down at the midpoint. Joel had eased Tex to a halt as he leaned down and gave him a gentle pat on his jet-black neck. His eyes zoned in on a rustling in the tall wispy grass. He noticed fur and white spots as he carefully dismounted. Tommy was half paying attention to his brother as he was scribbling something down on the map.

Joel had slowly crouched down as his hands gently pushed apart the tall grass. There he found a tiny fawn, not more than a day old, curled up in a protective position with only the tips of its tawny colored ears visible. His face softened as he gazed at the innocent creature. He wondered if its mother was nearby. He knew that fawns were often left in a safe area while the doe would search for food. He was just about to stand up when the wind direction shifted and the stench of death attacked his senses.

“Holy fuck.” Tommy stated in disbelief as he was standing over the fawn’s dead mother. At first he thought this was the work of wolves or another predator, but this was man. The poor creature was butchered in a disrespectful and heinous way. Both brother’s had butchered many game animals for meat, but not in the way that would send a grown man buckling to his knees and retching the contents from his stomach. The doe’s body was mangled to say the least. The details were too gruesome for even Joel or Tommy to describe.

“Wolves?” Tommy asked in an unsure tone. He knew the answer.

“No. Wolves wouldn’t kill like that. This was man’s work.” Joel grimaced.

“A warning?” There was a sharp edge to Tommy’s tone as he leaned his weight back into the heels of his boots.

Joel kicked at a patch of torn up grass with the toe of his boot. “Can’t know for sure, but it’s a possibility.”

Both Miller brother’s attention diverted to movement in their peripheral vision as the fawn had hesitantly crept out from the tall grass. Its legs were still a bit wobbly with each step it took towards Tex and Timber. Both horse’s were gentle and curious as their heads lowered towards the tiny, defenseless creature. The fawn’s coal black nose nuzzled against Tex’s before it collapsed to the ground with a squeak.

“We can’t leave it out here to die, Tommy.” Joel sighed as he placed his hands on his hips.

“What the hell are we supposed to do? Take it back with us? Joel, it’s a goner without its mom. Jus’ let it meet its fate.”

“No. It’s innocent. Jus’ barely a day old. It doesn’t deserve to die out here alone or god forbid get torn to shreds by wolves. I won’t stand for it.” Joel muttered as he approached the fawn once more. The poor thing was trembling as it tried to escape between Tex’s front legs.

“Hey, easy there little one. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” Joel softly spoke as he shrugged his flannel off his arms. “You’re alright. You’re safe. M’gonna take care of ya.” He cooed as he gently brought the flannel around the trembling creature and scooped it into his arms. The fawn struggled for a moment as it cried out for its dead mother. Joel continued to soothingly speak to it while his fingers gently stroked the top of its delicate furry head. Once the fawn recognized it was no longer in danger, it settled in Joel’s arms and soon fell asleep as it was ridden with exhaustion and malnourishment.

“Where are ya even gonna keep a fawn, Joel?” Tommy asked as he mounted back onto Timber with a huff.

“Dunno. Maybe I can make a pen or somethin’ next to Tex’s stall. I’ll figure that out when we get back.” He gruffly spoke as he used his free arm to mount back into the saddle. He was careful to not jostle the fawn too much as he held it securely with his freehand clutched around the reins.

He tilted his head downwards in a somber motion towards the fawn’s deceased mother.

I’m sorry, my dear. Man can be so cruel. So unforgiving towards Earth’s innocent creatures.

The tidings of a new morning kissed your skin like dew drops along a flower petal. You were so grateful for the company of Ellie and Dina. They had shown you unconditional kindness that came purely from their souls. Now you have two new friends. The three of you would become as thick as thieves. Until then, you were back in your shop with the door propped open to welcome in the fresh late spring breeze. Summer was on the horizon in a day's time. You decided to spruce up a little to get your mind off Joel and how you dismissed him on your couch after the incident. Your heart hurt as your mind replayed the image of his hurt stricken face as he slipped past your door. The night was so perfect, too perfect. You knew you’d see him again, but when? Under what context? You couldn’t blame him for not seeking you out. You never meant to hurt his feelings and of course he knew that, but your heart still stung. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

You were drawn away from your present thoughts when the bell dangling along the door chimed. Your heart skipped a fucking beat as you immediately assumed it was your Joel. You were already subconsciously checking your appearance in the mirror along the wall when you heard someone clear their throat. Your face fell mildly for a moment when you turned the corner. It wasn’t your Joel; it was Lucas, with a visible bandaged wrist.

“Hey, Beanie.” He waved with his good hand as a lopsided smile spread across his lips.

Your eyes zoned in on his bandaged wrist as he approached the countertop where you were presently standing. When did that happen? How did that happen? Who broke his wrist? Did..Joel have something to do with this?

“Lucas? Hey, how are you doing? I uh–wasn’t expecting you to drop by.” You calmly spoke as you nervously played with your fingers behind your back.

“Could be better. Nice place y’got here. I shoulda stopped by sooner. What’s your speciality?” He gestured to the chalkboard menu above the countertop.

“Lattes. Any flavored latte really. Would you..like one?”

“Sure. Surprise me with the flavor.” He shrugged as he looked around with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’m sure you’re wonderin’ why I stopped in today, huh? I just wanted to apologize for my behavior the other night. I had no intentions to send you any mixed signals, Beanie. If I was coming across in a suggestive way, I am very sorry.” He apologized in a calm and collected manner as he stood a few inches from the countertop.

“Oh, it’s alright. I suppose I should apologize as well for the way that I reacted? I’m just..not used to people reaching out and grabbing me like that. I am sorry for causing a scene. I know that you didn’t have any ulterior motives. Was the way I reacted a direct result in the cause of that bandage around your wrist?” You asked quietly as you grabbed a mug for the latte.

“My wrist?” He chuckled then as he leaned his elbow against the countertop casually. “You could say that. Your guard dog has himself a bit of a temper. S’a good thing it was a clean break. Scraped my face up pretty good too.” He responded in such a casual tone that you couldn’t help the slight chill that rolled down your spine like a dripping faucet.

“Im..sorry? My guard dog? Are we talking about Joel? He broke your wrist?”

“Darlin’ who else would act that way? Yes, it was Joel. Cornered me in the alley and shoved me against the wall.” He tsked under his breath with a sigh.

“Lucas, I'm so sorry. I swear, I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t tell him to go and break your wrist.”

“Beanie, s’alright. He’s a violent man. Probably woulda killed me with his bare hands if he got the chance. Anyway, I jus’ wanted to make sure I cleared the air with you first and foremost.”

Your stomach felt slightly queasy as your fingers trembled out of sight. You weren’t naive. You knew that Joel had killed numerous people in order to survive for this long. You held no judgment towards him. Everyone had to kill at some point in order to survive. Why would he act in such a manner if he no longer had to function in survival mode? Joel’s violent outburst towards Lucas wasn’t sitting right with you at all. You could feel your heart rate increase as you clutched your chest with a shaky breath.

“I’m–i’m sorry he did that to you, Lucas. I appreciate your apology, and I accept it.” You stuttered out as you nearly spilled a bit of coffee on your hand while you were handing him the mug.

“Like I said, it’s alright. Don’t go and worry your pretty little head over that violent Joel Miller. Thanks again for the latte.” He was looking right into your eyes now as he took the mug from your trembling hands. He stepped back from the counter followed by a tip of his imaginary hat in your direction. “See ya around, Beanie.” He left through the front door of your shop moments later and disappeared down the street.

You were left frozen on the spot as you used a rag to wipe away the stray dribbles of coffee from the counter. Your hands were still trembling as you busied yourself with more cleaning.

Joel would never. He wouldn’t.

Oh, but he would.

He did.

Why would Lucas lie about his wrist?

Joel is a violent man.

It's in his nature.

He’s dangerous.

Unpredictable.

A ticking time bomb.

And you’re a fool if you think otherwise.

Maybe that nagging voice inside of your head was right. Maybe Joel wasn’t all you believed him to be. This was about to be put to the test when his familiar scent wafted in through the open door. You heard his boots scuff along the wood flooring as the bell chimed above his head. He was holding something in his arms. You couldn’t tell what it was, but by the flushed expression on his face, whatever it was held a sense of urgency to him.

“Beanie.” He breathed out as he held the bundle in his arms close to his chest.

“Joel.” Your response was meek as you stepped around the corner of the countertop.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go. Couldn’t leave this poor baby out in the wilderness to die.” He murmured urgently as he approached.

“Joel, what are you talking about?” You asked with a hint of caution laced in your tone.

“This..fawn. Tommy and I were patrolin’ and I found it in the tall grass. Its mother was..killed by wolves presumably. I couldn’t just leave it out there. It’s barely a few days old.” He spoke softly as he gently pulled back the flannel to reveal the tiny fawn’s head. Its big brown eyes stared up at you with thick black lashes. The fawn showed timid curiosity as it sniffed the air for any immediate threats.

“Oh my goodness.” You whispered in disbelief as you peered down at the innocent creature.

How could a man be so violent, yet be tenderly holding a fawn in his arms as if it was fine delicate china that would shatter from the slightest touch.

It made your head spin.

“I ain’t got a single clue how to take care of it, and there's no tellin’ if it’ll make it through the night. Can..you help me, please?” He looked into your eyes, pleading silently.

“Joel, of course I'll help you. It's probably starving. Why don’t you..sit down and i’ll get some milk. Hopefully the poor thing will drink it.” you murmured in a hush tone as you disappeared behind the counter. There was a fridge in the back room that stored milk, cream and the occasional snack or two. You grabbed the small bottle of milk and a bowl before returning to the front area. Joel was sitting stiffly in one of the chairs as the fawn laid comfortably in his lap. You took the seat across from him with the bowl and milk bottle sitting on the table before you poured a bit into the bowl. “Here, put a bit on your finger and see if it’ll nurse.”

He slowly looked over at you before he nodded and used his free hand to dip one of his fingers into the bowl. The fawn was already lifting its head towards the familiar scent of milk and when Joel slowly lowered his finger towards the fawn’s nose, it immediately began to nurse. Joel stilled in his seat for a moment as images of a baby Sarah nursing from a bottle in his arms surfaced through his mind. She was so tiny. A silent tear rolled down the cavern of his cheek as the fawn sucked the few drops of milk from his finger.

“Joel?..”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as he went to brush the stray tear away.

“Joel, what..happened after you left the bathroom?”

God, she knows. She knows and now she’s afraid of me.

You watched as he inhaled a sharp breath before his eyes slowly flitted over to yours. He held a steady contact before he finally spoke.

“I did what I felt was right. It’s not alright for anyone to go and grab someone like that. He had no right to touch you, Beanie.” He breathed out.

“And you had the right to break his wrist?” Your voice trembled slightly as you watched the way his face fell.

“Beanie, I–couldn’t jus’ let him get away with that. I only wanted to protect you.” He tried to reason with you.

“Joel, I never asked you to protect me. You can’t just go and break people’s wrists just because they touched me. Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?”

“You never had to ask. It comes naturally to me. Look, I've already been punished for my violent actions. I couldn’t leave it alone because you were a wreck. I came into the bathroom and you were thrashing like a goddamn fish in Tommy’s arms. You wouldn’t even let me get near you for over ten minutes. Don’t you remember? Honey, you were in fuckin’ shambles.” He nearly whispered as his voice cracked.

“I–I don’t remember, Joel. I don’t remember any of it.” You could feel the tears begin to brim along your waterline as your fingers trembled in your lap. “I..was that bad?”

“Beanie..you tucked yourself between two sinks with your back facin’ Tommy and I. My intentions were to just..rough him up a bit. He didn’t even know what the hell I was gettin’ on him for. He acted like he had done nothin’ wrong. Look, if you hate me now, and you ain’t want nothin’ to do with me, jus’ please save it. I’ve endured enough pain in my life. Jus’ rip the bandaid off if that’s what you gotta do.”

“What?” You looked over at him with tears freely rolling down your cheeks, mirroring his own. “Joel, I don’t hate you, I just didn’t understand why you did what you did. I wish that I remembered what had happened so that I could wrap my head around this whole thing. Lucas came in here about twenty minutes ago and told me what happened. He also apologized for how he acted, and then he left.”

Hell had suddenly frozen over in Joel’s world when you recounted Lucas having the nerve to show up to your shop and apologize for his behavior. Joel knew he had to remain calm despite the temperature of his blood skyrocketing. Lucas was here. He was in your shop, and Joel was not happy about it.

“Beanie, S’alright that you don’t remember what happened. I don’t wanna end up triggerin’ your memories or nothin.’” He sighed softly as he thought about the careful choice of words he’d have to use when discussing Lucas. “Lucas was here?..Well, I'm glad that he apologized. Is that all he said?”

“Joel, it’s not okay that I don’t remember. I can’t fucking recount anything after the moment he grabbed my arm. It’s all a blank screen in my mind.” Your tone alone gave away how frustrated you were as you vigorously wiped away your tears. “He–said that you’re a violent man, and that I shouldn’t worry my pretty little head about it.” You whispered the last bit out as your eyes drifted down to your trembling palms that were resting in your lap.

Joel bit down on the inside of his cheek hard enough that he could taste copper along his tongue. He swallowed hard as he tried to calm his nerves. How dare he. How dare he try and turn you against him. What was this little conniving snake trying to stir up now?

“He’s right. I am a violent man.” He muttered under his breath. “I’d be a fool to sit here and try to lie to you, Beanie. I’ve done some godawful things in the name of survival, but I'd never hurt you. I’d never grab you like that. I’d never cross those boundaries. Beanie, please jus’ be careful, okay? Please.”

“Joel, I know you’d never hurt me. I don’t care that you’re a violent man. Who am I to judge you? Everyone has had to kill to survive. I’m no saint either. Look, neither you or I can go back to that night. I wish I could. I wish I could reverse the clock because I was having such a good time with you, Joel.” You looked over at him with glassy eyes as you sniffled softly.

“You..don’t care? Do you truly mean that, Beanie? I was having such a wonderful time with you as well. I’m sorry that I allowed myself to act upon violence. I should have jus’ stayed in the bathroom with you and Tommy. Should have stayed with you.” His head dropped slightly in mild defeat.

“Joel, of course I mean that. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for pushing you away when you tried to comfort me on my couch. You were just trying to help and I pushed you away..”

“Sweet girl, you don’t have to apologize for a goddamn thing. You needed space, so I gave it to ya. You know your body best. I wasn’t gonna try’n force you to let me stay. Last thing I wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.” He murmured sincerely.

You wanted to laugh through your tears when he called you sweet girl. You weren’t anywhere near the age of a girl anymore, but it was still a thoughtful gesture that you appreciated more than you realized.

“Can..we start over? Can we put this all behind us?” You asked hesitantly as your hand slowly reached across the table.

“Course we can. There ain’t anyone here that can tell us that we can’t. Clock’s still goin’ but that doesn’t mean we gotta stick with the times. We can go at it at our own pace. Whatever we’re comfortable with.” He reassured you as his hand that wasn’t occupied with the fawn reached towards you across the table.

Your fingertips brushed before they interlocked in a gentle squeeze as you both fell into a moment of silence.

“What do we name this little one?” He asked softly as he dipped his free finger back into the bowl of milk.

“Bambi?” That seemed like the obvious choice given the circumstances.

“Nah.” he murmured with a boyish grin. “How about Beanie number 2?”

“How original.” You mused with a soft smile on your lips.

“Or what about Honey? Pretty sure it's a girl.” He shrugged.

“Honey. I like it.” You murmured as you squeezed his hand gently.

“Y’hear that, Honey? We’re gonna take care of ya. Remember that horse you were nuzzlin’ on? That’s Tex. He’s gonna be your protector too. We’re gonna make sure you have a good life, alright little one?” He spoke so softly to the innocent creature that gazed up at him like he had crafted the sun for that fawn with his bare hands in his toolshed.

How could a man be so violent, yet so tender.

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[mattykay]

Hey uhm can you do more Rodrick x ftm reader smut? I was thinking like reader has a little brother/sister, who's friends with Greg, and he and rodrick meet, hang out and things escalate in to them doing ✨it✨

OMG IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME LONG TY SM FOR REQUESTING YES I CANNN I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3

content: top!rod, sub!reader, biting, light spitting, degrading, the works

Susan and Frank knew your parents well. Your dad met Greg's when they did scouts together. It all came from there.

You had managed to avoid all of the little family outing but this one.. couldn't go without you as it was in your own home. The families wanted to get together and, "cut loose", meaning the parents would get wine and beer drunk while the kids had a sleep over.

Greg and your little brother had each other.. you had Rodrick.

He was damn good looking, you'd give him that. But he was obnoxious too. So fucking obnoxious.

You were trapped in the garage with him as he played (slammed) on his drums. Over and over again. It was going to give you a migraine at this point.

"My fucking god-" You grumbled, which he picked up on.

"What? Can't handle talent?" The raven haired boy asked in that fucking snarky tone.

"No. I can't handle a damn migraine." You said.

This made him scoff. "Your head good?" He asked, making you blush. "My god! Not like that you freak!" Rodrick said, noticing your expression. But his shock quickly turned into a smirk. "Unless..?"

You swatted at his arm and he caught your wrist. "Easy.. easy.." He purred, making the hairs on your neck stand up and your boxers dampens in shame. You tried to struggle out of his grip. "Yeah. That's not happening.." Rodricks smirk grew. "Cmon, I got something loads better in my room."

So you led him lead you into his damn bedroom! It wasn't your fault! You didn't even know what to say! Plus he was hot..

Rodrick got you into his room, "Sit." You sat. "Atta boy." He said as he stepped in front of you, his crotch right in your face at a drool worthy proximity. "Awww.. you a hungry little thing?" He cooed, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look up.

"Uh huh.." Was all you could muster, which he mocked in a more whiney "Uh huhhh.." of his own. The mockery was making your cunt ache. You wanted him bad now.

Rodrick unzipped his pants, bringing his cock out of his boxers. It sprang up and hit you right on the lips. "Cmon. You know what to do." He said, and so you did it. You grabbed the base of his cock and began to suck and lick at his tip. His hand grabbed your hair tight, making you whimper.

"Suck all of it. Now." Rodrick hissed, so you relaxed your jaw and took all of him into your mouth. You tried to hold still and not gag when he began to fuck your throat and yank at your hair. "Fuck that's good.. such a good boy.."

You sucked for damn too long before he pulled out of your lips with a 'pop'. "Back." He said, pushing you onto your back.

Rodrick practically tore your pants from you, along with your boxers. He started down at your dripping cunt with a grin. "Look at you. Fuckin' dripping." He said, taking no effort to warn you before sliding a finger in you. You squealed in response and he slapped a hand over your mouth. "Jesus christ- shut the fuck up. You want them to hear you moaning like a little slut?" You shook your head no. "Exactly. Be a good boy and I'll get you what's even better."

He retracted his finger from you, spitting on your hole before replacing it with his cock. You babbled about how big he was and how full you were. It made him laugh. "Aren't you such a brain dead little thing? Just needed dick in your little boypussy and you're all dumbed down now.." He cooed as he began to thrust.

Your eyes rolled back and you listened to the wet sounds and clapping in the room. You whined against his hand as his cock tip brushed right on that perfect spot inside you.

"Yeah? Gonna cum f'me? You gonna be a good boy and cum on my cock?" Rodrick asked as he fucked you deeper. You whined loudly in response. He went to answer but was cut off by you clenching around him, forcing his orgasm to follow yours.

The two of you panted and got back dressed quickly. Just in time for your parents to say it was time to go. "Call me." He said, not a question. But yet another order.

[holylulusworld]

Between a rock and a hard place (2)

Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, extortion, degrading, groping, implied mentions of prostitution, seduction, mentions of spanking, dirty talk, biting, darkfic, both brothers are not nice guys, mafia au

Between a rock and a hard place (1)

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

“Cute, don’t you think?” Walter dips his head to watch you twirl in the light sundress he wants you to wear. He’s been toying with you for the last few days. So far, he hasn’t touched you. Walter prefers scaring you even more to make you compliant. “August stop scowling. I’m training our girl.”

“I don’t want a cute girl,” August snaps at his brother. “What I want is a wet cunt to take dick at my club.”

You try not to listen to them. If you let your mind wander while you twirl in your brand-new dress, you can pretend you’re not here, in their hands.

“August,” Walter gets up from his chair. He grabs your wrist to stop you from twirling, “I told you that she’s mine. If you behave, I’ll share. If not, she’s only my cute pet.”

“She owes us a fucking lot of money,” August raises his voice. He grabs your other wrist, tugging hard. “Come, it’s time to pay me back.”

“Hands off,” you whimper when Walter pushes his brother away. He shoves you behind his back and clicks his tongue. “One last time, you won’t get the girl. She’s mine to play with. If you want the money back so badly,” Walter gets something out of his pocket. He throws it at his brother and sneers. “Have my new car. It’s worth what she owes you.”

“You give away your car for some pussy?” August laughs at his brother’s possessiveness over you. “Brother, you don’t even know her! What has gotten into you, Walter?”

“That’s none of your business,” Walter grunts. “I never asked about the girls you fucked. Now shut the fuck up about the money. My mouse will pay me back every buck.”

Walter turns back around to cup your face. He hums as you stare up at him with wide, fearful eyes. 

“Walter, you can’t be serious! You just bought the car,” his brother hisses behind Walter’s back. “I’m talking to you!”

“Shush, sweet mouse,” Walter leans closer to whisper in your ear. “You are going to be such a good girl for me, right? Imagine, I go down on that sweet pussy and make you cum all over my face after I spanked this pussy raw.”

Your eyes widen, but your lips part and you press your thighs together at his words. 

“What are you doing?” August watches his brother move his hand to your neck to press his thumb against your pulse point. “Do you want my big hand to spank your sweet petals? I’ll make it hurt so good, sweetness.”

Your breathing quickens.

“Yeah, you’d love my big hand between your legs. Not only to explore your flesh but to conquer and claim,” he smirks knowingly. “I bet,” he dips his head to look at his brother, “she will let me hold her legs apart with a spreader bar and watch me spank her pretty cunt until it’s swollen and puffy.”

“Christ, Walter. That girl won’t survive a single session with you. Not with your hand, nor your cock! Give her to me. My customers are middle-aged losers wanting to get their dick wet.”

“Who tries to go easy on her now?” Walter smirks darkly. “I want her to become my perfect little cockslut. She will be mine, and writhe on my cock soon enough. I only need to prepare her for getting thoroughly destroyed.”

“She’s pressing her legs together,” August watches your reaction like a hawk. “I bet her cunt will be soaked after you spanked her.”

“Hmmm…” Walter nuzzles you. He scratches the sensitive skin on your neck with his thick beard, causing a shudder to run through you. “Do you want me to feel if you are already wet, mouse?”

“Nghh…” you fail to find your voice. Walter is a dangerous and cruel man. But also, intoxicating, and seductive. “I-please let me go home.”

“Home?” August laughs behind you. “Your home is gone. Everything you own, we snatched it before burning down that shitty house you called your home.”

“What?” You whimper. “The bank…no! I…I need to pay them. Please…”

“Shhh…” Walter sinks his teeth into your neck, forcing a scream to tear from your throat. Your hands instinctively grasp for his shoulders, confused if you want to push him off you or bring him closer. “You’ll have all you need here, with me. For now, you need to learn your place is in my lap.”

August crosses his arms over his chest. He must watch his brother bring you on his lap. Walter forced you to rest your head against his shoulder and started to pat your head and back. 

You broke down and started to cry the moment the brothers started to fight over your value. It was all too much. Losing your husband, your home, and your freedom within not even a week broke you.

“Brother, a word,” August tries to not lose his composure. It’s impossible to convince his brother to choose any other woman over you. “Walter!”

“Not so loud,” Walter shushes his brother. “She’s slowly calming down. You scared the shit out of her when you got your gun out.”

“Walter, with all due respect, you lost your damn mind. She’s just some pussy you want to fuck. Get it over with. Put her on the desk, stuff her cunt, and then, she can work at the club.”

“My answer stays the same,” Walter snarls in his brother’s direction. “She’s mine but I’m willing to share with you. Only you.”

“What if I’m not interested in her cunt?”

Walter runs his hand over your head, and down to your shoulders. He’s gently massaging your scalp, making you moan. You hate to admit it, but you relax in his arms.

“Do you think I care?” He grunts and angrily glares at August. “I was willing to share with you. If you are not interested in my sweet mouse, fine. More for me.”

You surrender to exhaustion and tiredness. Falling asleep in his lap, to let sleep bring you away from them for a moment, or a few hours.

“Walter, we need to talk about your behavior,” August tries once again. His brother brought you to his bedroom and covered you with his blanket, much to his brother's chagrin. “You act like you care about that pussy!”

“Brother,” Walter laughs. “I thought you got that I played with her. You are the bad cop, and I’m the good cop. Anytime you are bad to my sweet mouse, she seeks shelter in my arms. I told you that I want to train her to become my perfect little cockslut.”

August furrows his brows. He’s not sure if he can trust his brother with you. “You sure?” He questions. “We don’t have time to waste on some woman. If you only want to fuck her, keep her. I’ll take the car. If not…”

“She’s shy and sweet,” Walter grins like the devil. “I want to break her down to nothing and make her mine. After I’m done with her,” he shrugs. “I’m willing to hand her over to you and your club.”

The brothers stared at each other for a moment, and neither of them said another word. 

August still doesn’t know if he can believe his brother’s words. He can’t deny that having his way with you makes his cock swell. 

“If you lie to me, you’ll regret it, Walter.”

“Why would I do such a thing, brother?”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[diacripticcomplex]

Reiji x yui jealous whipping punishment.

Reiji’s POV:

It was quite unfortunate to be in her position. Strung up like a the messiah she worships dearly. Her wrists were inflamed from the irritation of the nails I used, the blood was drying up quite nicely, giving it a faint rusted smell, I was enjoying myself. I could sit down right now and drink a hot cup of tea to this delightful aroma. She was to blame for this circumstance. I told her, simply to obey this one command and she failed to do so. She believes that I will save her from my brothers bloodlust, I am no savior and she should understand that. She put herself in that situation instead of being by my side.

“Reiji…” she whimpers out my name. She woke up finally, I had drained her of her blood to the brink of death. The screams she let out in the process were interesting. I usually never find myself agreeing with that good for nothing deadbeat but in this case I could agree with him that there is nothing more amusing then the sound of prey whimpering and begging. She says my name again and I glance at her. “What do you need from me?” I ask her, “please let me down..this..this is an insult to Christ..” she has the audacity to say. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m glad you have the ability to comprehend that you are indeed an insult to your messiah and your God.” I state, her eyes look at me with great offense. Not that it matters, her punishment is far from done. I remove my gloves, approaching her. I purposely push the nails out of her wrists, allowing fresh blood to flow down her wrists. But it did free her, she fell to the ground of the dungeon chamber. She looked at her wrists and in horror and began to cry. That sound of her tears, it was alluring, honestly.

I noticed her back looked untainted, the smooth skin would look lovely painted red by my whip, I took out my whip and lashed her, I put all my strength into it as well. I wanted to continuously hear her cry, and smell the blood whip out from her each time I lash her. Her body must’ve given up, she fell to the floor going numb, bleeding out. “Its rude to fall all of a sudden, you never learn mortal.” I tell her firmly, then grab her by her hair, kissing her. “Do not ever proceed to endanger yourself by letting my filthy brothers near you, understood?” I ask her, she slowly nods her head, and pulls in for another kiss, which I gladly grant to her. Our lips were in sync, it would be wrong to defile her in the dungeon, I teleport us into the bathroom, running hot water she cried in pain as the hot water cleaned her wounds. “Be good and silent, I’ll distract you from your pain.” I tell her, then I proceed to plant kisses on her nape, going down slowly my hands begin to caress her soft flesh, I find myself lifting her leg up and stroking her womanhood with my two fingers, circling her clitoris, she moaned loudly at this, and I could feel a liquid coming from her womanhood, she was moistened rightfully for me. I continued doing this, but then decided to start inserting my fingers into her back and forth, I could feel her insides getting more wet..this was enticing. But I refuse to engage in sexual play with her while we are in the bathroom, besides not giving her full pleasure would torture her even more.

[two-red-lungs]

Pick Your Poison

Paul/Fem!Reader

Content: Slow burn, stoner!Paul, he’s the Drugs Guy and I love him, unresolved tension, the Lost Boys are SO toxic

Word Count: 2.9k

The neon sign in Saigon Soul’s window hummed, luminous and red, casting vermillion’s feather-soft hue across the rapidly cooling colors of the night. The last rays of the sun had faded less than an hour ago: but as soon as they did, like clockwork, your new favorite entertainment emerged. Just like he did every night. A reverse Cinderella.

Red looked good on Paul. It haloed his product-stiff blonde mane in a ruby glow and glittered like pomegranate seeds in a marching line down his gilded row of medallions. Turned his off-white eyes and teeth pink, too. He huffed, smacking his lips obnoxiously in an effort to puff away the heat of his extra-spicy beef noodle pho, flapping his hands about. The piles of bracelets on his wrists jangled.

“Fuck me, man. That’s good.” He said in his usual laid-back, loose tone after a gulp of iced tea from his flimsy paper cup. 

“Mmm.” You hummed and picked up a heavy shrimp spring roll with your chopsticks. Maybe it was the thick seaside summer air, or the heavenly deep-fried smells that wafted your way every time the narrow restaurant door opened, but the damn things smelled amazing. “Told ya. This place is a total hole in the wall but their food’s primo.”

“Uh-huh.” He sucked pepper oil off the pad of his thumb and scratched his stubbly cheek contemplatively. Even like this, reeking of sweat and looking like a cat got lost in his hair somewhere, he was so beautiful it was almost ridiculous. Damn those baby blues. “My man Dwayne’s gonna dig on this stuff. He’s one bona fide heat fiend. Eats the fuckin, the… the uh…” He snapped his fingers a few times, brows furrowed in utmost stupefied contemplation. “The little spoons, with the red powder on top, you know—”

“Tamarind candy?”

His face lit up like the sun. Jesus Christ. That smile was a flashbang, a dynamite stick, a stun baton. Made you go all stupid. “Yeah! Yeah, man, the tamarind candy! Gotta get him some of that stuff.”

You looked down at your paper plate of food and worried at the inside of your lip with your teeth. Somewhere down the street dance music was playing. Car lights ghosted over your and your dinnermate, lighting up the strangers that walked by on the sidewalk next to you. It was by all means a perfect night: balmy wind and the distant sound of the boardwalk rides on the air. But Paul bringing up his brother… it sent an uneasy sensation down your spine and you couldn’t quite pin down why. 

Paul had stumbled into your life three weeks ago, completely drunk on the beach. You’d been a good samaritan: held his hair back while he puked, tossed him a bottle of water while he reeled and slurred out that his brothers had dumped his ass for being too intoxicated. But the whole while, he grinned. Like he could enjoy anything. Like no matter what situation life put him in, he’d find some way to have fun. 

He sat by your little bonfire in the grassy dunes and you chatted. You showed him some of your stick-n-poke tats and he’d insisted on getting one himself. And (in a decidedly less good samaritan way) you’d given him one, india ink blackening your fingers and his inner arm skin cold under your fingers. And that’s how you’d gotten to know him, how you’d continued to know him over the last collection of days. Alone, just him. His weird, easily-distractible, impulsive, entertaining self. He mentioned he had three brothers, once or twice, and you took it in stride. 

Then you’d seen him with them. 

He was like an entirely different person. 

Across the sea of beach boardwalk heads you’d spotted him. But it didn’t feel like him. He sat lazily up on a railing surrounded by equally eccentric young men, and they watched the crowd like tigers. Like mad kings looking down on their kingdom. A beautiful young woman passed and they all jeered, whooping and whistling and clapping: even Paul. With an aggression and odd hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before. They all moved in tandem, like wolves, wordlessly communicating in a way that made your skin crawl. 

You left. 

Now he was Paul again tonight: just Paul, the Paul you knew and hoped to god was the real version. The guy who couldn’t talk and chew gum to save his life. The guy who declared a thumb war with you and proceeded to lose six times in a row. The guy who delighted in rocking the sky-glider that slowly trundled over the pier until you were shrieking and clinging to his coat.

Either way, real Paul or not, you were glad you’d yet to meet his family. 

The blonde stretched, yawned, and hopped out of his seat, digging a hand into his dingy riding pants pocket. When you moved to counter, pulling your wallet out of your bag, he uh-uhed you and flapped his own leather-bound one in your face. “Not a chance, girl. Paulie’s good for it.”

You raised your brows. As far as you knew, he was a surf bum with a penchant for partying. No way was he holding down a nine to five to pay for dinner. 

Paul scoffed at your look. “I got a freebie from a real charitable dude.” He flashed the corner of a hundred at you and stuck out his tongue with a smile before wrestling two fives out of his cash-thick wallet. 

“Uh-huh. Someone just… handed you what, looks like… six hundred bucks?”

“He didn’t need ‘em anymore.” Paul didn’t even watch his wallet fall, he just dropped it to the table, flattening the bills to presentability with his fingers. “Try not to miss me, ‘kay?” In a whirl of pungent sea salt and old-timey coattails he was inside the little eatery, the bell on the poster-covered door jingling. 

You idly scratched at the hem of his leather wallet with your thumb nail while you waited. Real charitable dude, huh? You weren’t stupid. Paul was a street fiend. Ran trades and exchanges from the pockets sewn inside his coat with practiced ease, like he was born to sell ditchweed and glass-cut coke to summer-break college students. No doubt that’s where the money came from. Hell, the way he was standing around with his brothers… you wouldn’t be surprised if they were his suppliers. 

Something crunched under the edge of your nail. You brought your thumb to your face. There was a line of red, deep and nearby brown, trapped between the keratin and your skin. Dirt, obviously. 

It was dirt. 

Had to be dirt.

Like a category three hurricane, Paul was back, and before you knew it you were on your feet and moseying down the bustling town avenue. One of his long, lithe arms was draped almost crushingly over your shoulder, holding you to his side. He jingled with every footfall. Golden strands of hair blustered in the corner of your vision and you felt his ribs, pressed against your side, swell and contract with a contented sigh.

Two could play at that overconfident, wild-child game. With a little effort you extracted a pinned arm and shoved it under his coat, grabbing his waist over his mesh top and holding him much in the same way he held you as you jaunted down the avenue. He threw his head back and laughed, his stride never wavering. 

“You kinda got guts, girl.” He cackled into the coastal breeze. 

“So, Paulie.” You ignored his needling, crossing the crosswalk and ambling past seemingly endless pizzerias and cinemas and smoke shops. “Level with your good, kind, very honest and transparent friend. How many acid tabs did you sling to get that sorta funding?”

Paule shook your shoulder with a strong hand. “Wasn’t lyin’ to you, c’mon. I really did get that green for free.” The walk sign nearby turned from stop to go and you crossed another street. “Me and my brothers, we got ways, y’know? Not gonna be strapped for cash any time soon.”

Sometimes, when Paul looked at you just right, you thought your damn heart was gonna beat out of your chest. Like he saw right through the bullshit into your soul. But other times, times like now, you realized just how little you actually knew the guy. 

“I got ‘bout an hour before I gotta jet, girl.” Paul started talking again and you blinked: you’d arrived in front of the bulb-studded Casino Arcade arched entrance at the boardwalk without even noticing it. When you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you, eyes crinkled in kiddish mischief. “You down for a puff ‘n play?”

“Just an hour?” You mockingly pouted, extracting yourself from him and crossing your arms broodingly in the small ever-flowing crowd of young adults going in and out of the noisy arcade. “Geez, Paul. What am I, a time-killer till you can go have real fun?”

He laughed and there was a bark to it. “If you could handle real fun I’d take you with me.” A little of his usual spaced-out bliss receded. “But I, uh. Don’t really think the guys would appreciate a plus one at our… parties.”

“Wow.” You deadpanned. “Not vague and condescending at all.” With a conceding huff you punched his shoulder playfully, making his body rock like an inflatable car-sale mascot. “Fine, blondie. I’m game.” Paul was grinning from ear to ear and dragged you by the sleeve off to the underside of the pier, fishing around in his inside pockets. “But none of that skunkweed, you hear me? And if I kick your butt at Speedway again you gotta gimme your ring like you promised last time!”

He stopped short so quickly you nearly collided with his tall, narrow back. Paul whirled around. “Yeah? What do I get if I win?”

You were very acutely aware of how close he was standing, nearly chest-to-chest, and how the shadow-painted back side of the arcade by the barnacle-stippled pier was much less crowded than the arcade. You swallowed and his sharp, playful gaze tracked the motion of your throat reflexively. “It’s— augh, um— mystery prize. Can’t tell you what it is till you win. Which you won’t.”

He was silent for a few seconds, sucking on the inside of his cheek. Thinking. Then he grinned. “Alright.” He flicked a lighter across his knuckles and pressed the button down. The little firelight flickered wildly in the turbulent air. “Let’s get toasted.”

Sitting down in the shadow-dark sand between the pier legs, watching him roll a joint right then and there on his narrow knee, you reeled. Sometimes you really couldn’t tell what his deal was. Were you a time-killer? A listening ear? A friend? The way he looked at you, sometimes— it didn’t feel friendly.

If it was good or bad, though… the jury was still out on that one. 

So. It wasn’t skunkweed.

It was nice and palatable and bright. Absolutely top-shelf stuff he was handing out to you pro-bono. The world was a delicious blur: arcade lights were multihued and the speaker music was pop-y and completely grooveable. Your skin prickled in the hot interior air: fabric just felt better after a few puffs. And god, Paul was the funniest, weirdest, most oddly endearing beanstalk of a man when he was on the stuff. 

He had his forehead pressed so hard to the claw machine it was going to leave a red halo: he beat the side with his fist and howled in breathy, entertained frustration when the wimpy claw let the neon green monkey plush slip from its grasp under your careful joystick management. “Ahh, you dropped it again! Unbelievable!”

“It’s not exactly made to be easy, doofus! I’d like to see you try.” You half-chuckled, half-grumbled, feeding the hungry quarter slot more change. You missed the slot a few times before you succeeded. 

Paul reeled back and rounded the machine like a big cat, waving jingly arms. “You’re an amateur, girl. Let a pro show ya how it’s done.” 

You assumed he’d push you out of the way: god knows he'd done it before. But no, of course now he decided to act exactly like the Paul you’d come to know. He pressed up behind you, chin tickling the crown of your head, and put a hand over yours on the joystick when the machine popped back to life, revitalized by the loose change. It chirped out a happy eight-bit tune and Paul hummed along to it, guiding the claw around and back. His fingers were cool over yours. You could feel his belt buckle biting into your back over your shirt. 

You held very, very still, mouth pressed into a thin line. He jammed the drop button. The claw lowered, clamped over the green monkey, and hauled it over to the prize chute. It dropped it without a hitch: the plush clunked into the deposit receptacle.

Paul’s mouth was behind your ear, cold breath on the shell of it. “See? Pro.”

Then he was gone, crouching like an animal by the chute and wrestling the monkey free, and god you were reeling again: collecting your very high nerves with hands still clutching the sweating joystick plastic. 

“What’s my prize?”

“...Huh?” 

Paul doubled down, resting his weight against the Blasteroids arcade machine and wiggling the monkey at you. “I won. What’s my mystery prize, hmm?”

You collected yourself enough, finally. At least enough to scoff dismissively. “Please, I basically wiped the floor with you in Speedway and Super Mario—”

“You can’t argue with evidence, girl.” When you lunged to snatch the green ‘evidence’ out of his grip he reached upwards with it, holding it over your head mockingly, a cheshire smile on his face. “Cough it up. I want my prize.”

You jumped for the monkey and it went even higher. Grumbling and hopping and face starting to grow very flushed with an ‘I don’t have a fucking mystery prize’ panic, you rambled and cajoled at him, flipping between wheedling and threatening. It took you about fifteen seconds to realize he was no longer staring down at you, but rather over your head. 

“Paul.” A laid-back, low male voice said evenly from behind you. 

An icy knot formed in your stomach. You turned, slow as a glacier, and yep, it was exactly what you thought it was. Two of the brothers you’d spied the blonde hanging out with before. The tall, dark, and brooding one, and the peroxide-spiked trench coat model.

The latter lifted his eyebrows at you when he caught you staring. A tight, cold smile graced his lips for a moment before he turned his cutting gaze back to his brother. “Thought we all agreed to be at the statue by ten. We missed you.” His eyes slide back to you. “Who’s your friend?”

You stood as tall as you could in the given circumstances, feeling rather like a park ranger making himself as big as possible to frighten off a bear. An introduction was on the tip of your tongue. It got knocked off of it when Paul abruptly elbowed past you, shoulder-checking you hard enough to offset your balance. When he stood by his brothers, he looked exactly in place. Like he was meant to be there. 

He glanced down his nose at you. There was a different sort of smile on his face. An insider smile. One you didn’t feel like was for you. “Just some chick, David. Y’know how it is. Where’s Marko?”

“Scoping out dinner. Probably waiting on us, now.”

“Shit man, then let’s go!” Paul crowed, snapping his fingers and grinning, tongue trapped between his teeth. “I’m starvin’.”

The whole while they talked, the tall, dark-haired one watched you with crossed arms. Taking in the way your face shifted, the confused, hurt pinch in your brow. The pac-man machine illuminated half his face, like a skull of amber-yellow. You caught his eye. The intensity of his gaze forced yours down to the multicolored carpet. 

“After you.” David gestured broadly with a gloved hand towards the arcade entrance, and Paul flounced towards it without so much as a goodbye or a sparing glance in your direction, even after an entire evening together. David looked at the dark-haired one. “Dwayne. Time to roll.”

A long-drawn out pause. You refused to look up. 

“...Comin’.” Dwayne eventually said. The trio disappeared between arcade machines, tops of their heads barely visible, then vanished into the crowded Santa Carla night. 

The green monkey was abandoned on the floor, limbs splayed. You picked it up, its glassy plastic eyes blankly reflecting the arcade lights. Like it was mocking you for being there, alone, after that. 

“Fucking asshole.” You breathed in disbelief to yourself. Far more hurt than you thought you’d be. You’d hung out with him for what, six days, tops? Were you even friends? Was he not just some nighttime stranger, a weirdo who emerged from the woodwork to show you a good time once in a while? Paul was good. Paul was fun. He was a fat blunt and a shot of tequila and a roller-coaster ride all wrapped up into one person. 

You’d picked him as your poison of preference. It was a good poison. Now you were starting to wonder if you’d picked wrong. 

[tangledinink]

Leo frowned a bit.  “You know I already tried melatonin, right?” “It’s not melatonin, dummy,” Mikey sighed, rolling his eyes as he twisted the pill bottle open, grabbing Leo’s hand so that he could shake one of the little gummies out into his palm. “It’s weed. Obviously.”

Leo and Mikey take edibles. That's it, that's the whole fic. :) A TMWN one-shot; takes place prior to main fic, so no need to be caught up! Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

Though Leo had, admittedly, been a bit jumpy and out of it today, (okay, fine, the past few days,) he was still pretty sure he was justified in his yelp when a hand latched onto his wrist, yanking him sharply inside the apartment as soon as the front door was open and hip-checking it shut behind him.

“Jesus CHRIST, Mikey! Were you waiting for me to get home just so you could do that!? Is this supposed to be revenge for the thing with your Twitter account and profile pic? ‘Cause that was definitely Donnie and not me--”

“The thing with the what now?! What’d you-- you know what, nevermind. Shut up,” Mikey said, promptly darting past Leo and ducking under his arm in order to lock the door shut behind him.

Leo blinked slowly.

“Dude. What are you doing?”

Mikey turned to face him, his hands on his hips.

“Is Donnie at his robotics meet?”

“... Yeah?”

“And Dad, too?”

“Yeah? Mikey--”

“And Raph is at football practice?”

“Angie, what is your deal?” Leo sighed loudly, scrubbing at his face tiredly as he tilted his head back in annoyance. What the fuck was with Mikey all of a sudden!? And why was he being interrogated? Like, okay, look, he knew that he kind of spooked him the other day with that whole… falling down the stairs thing. But he was totally fine! Just some bruises. It was so not that big of a deal! Leo just… hadn’t been paying attention.

… And, yeah, okay, sure. You could, in theory, argue that the fact that he hadn’t slept for more than three hours or so in about as many days had something to do with that. But that was all just conjecture! They had no evidence! 

“Good,” Mikey said, quite decisively, clapping his hands together and narrowing his eyes at the other, his lips pursed as he stared at him for just a moment before he pointed at him, almost accusingly.

“You need to sleep.”

Oh, great. Here we go. Leo rolled his eyes, bristling.

“Wow, seriously? You think so? What a crazy smart suggestion! And so unique and original! Gosh, thank you, Miguel, I never would have thought of that on my own! Sleeping! That’s a great idea! I’ll go do that now, since it’s so simple and easy to do, except actually no it’s not!” He hissed, throwing his arms up in annoyance.

What, did he think he didn’t try? Because he had tried desperately! He would love to be sleeping right now! He had spent countless hours over the past week staring at the ceiling in his dark room, meditating, and listening to the endless droning of sleep podcasts. He had guzzled down melatonin like it was going out of style to no avail. He had taken trazodone, for god’s sake, and even that didn’t put him down for more than an hour or two. 

Mikey pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and pursing his lips, giving the other a long look.

“Are you done yet?”

Leo scowled. 

He blinked slowly at the other.

He crossed his arms over his chest, too, echoing the other’s posture.

And then finally he grumbled and nodded.

“Okay, good. C’mon,” Mikey replied quickly, grabbing Leo’s wrist once more and heading up the stairs at a hurried pace. Leo swore softly, stumbling a bit, but followed and kept pace anyway, jogging up to the second floor and following his brother, who didn’t slow down until they were in his room, the door shut behind him.

“Okay,” Mikey said, turning once again to face the other, reaching over to grab him by his shoulders. “You need to sleep. We agree on this. Right?”

Leo raised a brow. “... Right?”

“And you trust me. Right?”

“... Yeah?”

“Because I’m your brother. We’re family.”

“... As far as I’m aware…” Leo said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“And you!” Mikey added in, pointing accusingly. “Are the one who taught me the snitches get stitches rule, right? That’s your rule. You are the main enforcer of said rule! So you believe in the rule! Right?”

“Mikey, what are you--”

“True or false, Leo!”

“... Yeah. Okay. True. What the fuck are you about to try to do to me, Miguel?” He sighed. “Because if your intention is to knock me out via blunt force trauma, Donnie and I already tried that--”

“Okay, well, we’ll unpack that later,” Mikey chirped cheerily, shoving Leo in the general direction of the bed, gesturing to him a bit before he darted off. Leo pouted, but sat down anyway, kicking his shoes off and curling up. If Mikey was gonna try to hypnotize him or something after all this drama, he was going to be so fucking mad.

Slumped down against the copious amounts of pillows and stuffed animals (his collection rivaled only by Raph’s,) on Mikey’s bed, he watched as his baby brother threw open his closet, kicking a storage bin over to hop up on top of. Once he had the necessary height from his make-shift step-stool, he reached up, rummaging around for a bit on the top shelf. After a bit of shuffling and rearranging he finally pulled down a milk crate, and from that, he fished out a small painted chest-- one that Leo recognized as his music box from when they were little, decorated with little painted rainbows and unicorns on every side that, no, Leo had not been jealous of when Mikey got it at the age of six, thank you very much. 

Holding the music box under one arm, Mikey hopped back down and scampered over to re-join Leo on the bed. Inside the music box was an even smaller box-- this one Leo pegged as the box for the tarot cards Mikey had convinced April to buy him at that craft fair they went to two summers ago. He did readings with them from time to time, just for fun, not that Leo thought that they really meant anything. They were more a pretty trinket than anything else. Though Leo noted quietly to himself, didn’t Mikey keep his cards in a little velvet pouch, actually, now that he thought about it?

“Mikey, if you actually think now is a good time to do a tarot reading--”

“Well, I could after this if you want,” Mikey said brightly in reply, and when he cracked open the tarot card deck, there were, in fact, not any cards inside at all. Rather, there was a little orange bottle that Leo immediately clocked as one from one of Mikey’s Adderall prescriptions. But after a slightly closer inspection, he could already see that there weren’t any pills inside said bottle.

It looked more like candy.

Leo frowned a bit. 

“You know I already tried melatonin, right?”

“It’s not melatonin, dummy,” Mikey sighed, rolling his eyes as he twisted the pill bottle open, grabbing Leo’s hand so that he could shake one of the little gummies out into his palm. “It’s weed. Obviously.”

Leo stayed quiet for a moment, silently processing this.

And then his mouth fell open into a perfect ‘o.’

“HAMATO MICHELANGELO--”

“YOU AGREED!” Mikey shrieked, rearing back to point wildly at the other. “YOU ALREADY AGREED TO NO SNITCHING! NO BACKSIES!!!”

“Where the fuck did you get edibles!?” Leo cried.

Mikey threw up his hands in response. “I’m in the art club, Leo!!!”

Leo gasped. “Sarah is a weed dealer, isn’t she?! I totally called it!!!”

“No!” Mikey protested. “... Well, okay, yeah. But I get mine from Kody. So I think you only get half points?”

“Oh my god,” Leo gaped. “Since when!?”

“Likkeeee, last February?”

“What?!”

“You are being, like, so much less chill about this than I thought you’d be,” Mikey sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. “Look. It’s not a big deal! I promise! It’s, like, a special occasion once-every-few-months kind of thing. And at least for me,” he gestured to himself. “I always end up passing out, like… so hard,” he explained. “You don’t gotta take any if you don’t want to! I’m just saying. It might help. And you haven’t tried it yet. Sooo…”

He sort of shrugged.

Leo frowned, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Okay. Well.

On one hand… If he got caught, by either their dad or by, like, anyone involved in any of his many copious sports teams, he’d definitely be in, like… so much trouble.

On the other hand… Mikey had gone this long without getting caught. And Mikey was, like, way less sneaky than he was. And what were the odds that he was going to be subjected to a drug test or something anytime in the near future, really? He had never been drug tested before, (just threatened with it,) and they were still really early in the season, before any big, high-stakes meets or matches would be cropping up…

And Mikey did have a point. He hadn’t tried it yet. And it might help. And he did, like… really wanna sleep. 

Like. So bad.

… And also. I mean. It’s not like he wasn’t curious.

---

How long until they kick in? He had asked. I dunno if it’s working, he had said. Maybe it wasn’t enough-- should I take another? He had questioned. (No, Mikey had said.)

(That was probably for the best.)

“Mikey.”

“Hm?”

“I want a peanut butter jelly sandwich, like… so much,” Leo muttered dimly, staring up at the ceiling of Mikey’s room. He had been examining the little glow-in-the-dark stars up there for a while there, noting that it had been some time since he had actually taken notice of them. Man. They were so cool. He should get some for his room. Note to self: ask Dad about that later.

Mikey was flopped over on the bed with him, his head sort of laid across Leo’s ankles as he drew something in his sketchbook, and he glanced over at his brother, smirking a little and raising a brow.

“We have the stuff to make one if you want,” he pointed out. (I mean, technically, they only kept almond butter in the house, because this was a peanut-free space, thank you very much, but basically the same thing.)

“Fuck yes,” Leo enthused. “I love those things, dude. Do we have-- do we have the raspberry jelly? ‘Cause that shit is honestly so good.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Mikey hummed, setting his sketchbook to the side so that he could begin to get up.

“Hey,” Leo said, frowning a bit as he rolled over onto his side. “... I think grape jelly is a scam.”

Mikey snorted softly, raising a brow. “Uh, elaborate?”

“Okay,” Leo agreed, eager to lay out his logic. “What’s your favorite fruit?”

“I mean, I don’t not like grapes--”

“No no no no!” Leo protested, shaking his head sharply. “What’s your favorite fruit though?”

“Uhmmmm,” Mikey tilted his head to the side for a second. “Cantaloupe. Or lychee! Or mango. It’s a three-way tie,” he declared, and Leo pointed a finger.

“Exactly!” He cried. “Exactly! See? No one’s favorite fruit is grapes! Like-- they don’t exist! No one’s favorite fruit is grapes!”

Mikey laughed. “So?”

“So!” Leo threw out his hands. “No one would want to get grape jelly! ‘Cause it’s no one’s favorite fruit! There are so many other better fruits! So they had to figure out a way to get rid of all the grape jelly! So that’s why they tricked us all into thinking that grape jelly is, like. The jelly. And made peanut-butter-jelly sandwiches with grape jelly. Instead of any other jellies. Which are better. Because peanut-butter-jelly sandwiches with raspberry jelly is like? So much fucking better, dude. Or strawberry, even. Or anything! Because grapes are just okay! So they have to make the people think that that’s the default ‘cause otherwise grape jelly would be completely screwed, bro!”

“Wow,” Mikey hummed, grinning, resting his head in his hand as he stared at the other. “You are so high.”

Leo just giggled in response, letting his head fall back down, pointing at the other. “You did this to me, Angelo. This is your doing. You must reap what you’ve sown… You made me like this…!”

“Heck yeah I did,” Mikey confirmed, puffing out his chest proudly as he got up to his feet. “Come on. Do you want the sandwich or not?”

“Yessss…” Leo hummed, pulling himself up into a sitting position. Oh wow. Moving was great. Everything felt kind of tingly and wobbly in this really fun way? It was like one of those aluminum sheets that you wiggled and it made that really funny wub-wub-wub sound. Except, like… instead of just sound it was just…

Everything.

Yo, weed was kind of dope, actually. 

“Yo, weed is kind of dope, actually.”

“I told you,” Mikey said, seeming rather smug with himself. 

“I’m having a good time.”

“Yeah, it’s fun,” Mikey agreed, reaching to grab the other by the wrist, beginning to pull them up to their feet.

“Bro, why didn’t you take any? This is great. We could do a Smash Bros tournament except high,” Leo enthused, and Mikey scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t get high, I’m watching you!”

“Why?”

“I dunno. To make sure you don’t freak out or whatever. You’ve never been high before,” Mikey reasoned. “That’s just basic weed courtesy! It’s weed 101!”

Leo blinked slowly, considering this.

“Well, how long have I been high?”

Mikey shrugged a bit, fishing out his phone to check.

“Uhhh. Like. An hour and a half?”

“Well, then, am I good?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I probably would have freaked out already if I was gonna, right? So, like… am I good yet?”

Mikey wrinkled his nose, considering this for a bit.

“Well… I guess so. You’re probably fine.”

Leo reached over to grab his little brother’s shoulders, shaking him.

“Then let’s do Smash Bros Tournament except high!”

Mikey snorted, laughing loudly as he batted the other away.

“... Are you sure?”

“Yeah! I wanna do Smash Bros Tournament! Except high! I’m so good, Mikey! Lookit how hard I’m not freaking out! I’m being, like… so normal right now.”

Mikey seemed to consider this for a little bit, and then he shrugged.

“Yeah, okay.”

---

Leo had found that, in the time that he had been high thus far, he had a lot to say. He had a lot to think about and lots of thoughts to share with everyone around him (ie Mikey,) and while he overall just felt really cool and floaty and good, there was also an ever-so-slight element of brightness to it. Like-- everything was just kind of really funny right now. He was feeling very thoughtful and imaginative, so to speak. His brain was all scattered, but not in a way that felt bad-- just loose. He just wanted to discuss things! Like! Dude, IHOP? That place is the best. We should talk about that. And what’s better, pancakes or waffles? And dude, who do you think would win in, like, an actual for-real battle, Ho-Oh or Lugia? Be honest.

He was a bit surprised to find that Mikey, when high, wasn’t really any of those things.

For the most part, he was pretty normal.

Just… slowed down.

When they spoke now, it took just a tiny bit longer than usual for Mikey to respond, and his manner of speaking itself had shifted slightly to drag, allowing for longer pauses in between each word. He just seemed so very content and unbothered that he was in no rush to do anything at all, including thinking or speaking, and there was this slight shade of lazy amusement layered over everything he did. Leo, of course, found this all to be very funny. He spent a good deal of time just asking Mikey random questions and then giggling over the way he gave his answers, finding it absolutely delightful how he paused to think about it and then reported his opinion in this soft, humming tone.

And they were having so much fucking fun.

The pair of them were all piled together on the couch in The Lair, half tangled in each other’s limbs. The bid for pb-and-j had evolved into quite the cacophony of snacks, and the carnage of their munchies laid at their feet in tatters as they battled their way through their fourteenth round of Smash Bros.

“Dude, how do you keep beating me?” Leo whined, leaning in slightly towards the screen, as though that might help.

“‘Cause you always choose Kirby,” Mikey hummed in reply, slumping against the pillows in contrast. “And you suck at playing Kirby.”

“I do not!”

“Yeah-huh.”

“I’m great at Kirby. I’m the master of Kirby. Me and Kirby, we understand each other. We’re basically family. Kirby is basically my long-lost brother is how good I am at Kirby.”

“Then why do you keep losing?” Mikey countered lazily, grinning a little bit, and Leo giggled in response.

“You have an unfair advantage of not being high for the first time ever,” Leo countered, and Mikey just laughed in response.

“Kirby is cool. He’s like-- a little guy. The coolest little round dude ever. I love that dude. And I can make him blue!” Leo enthused. “And he’s. Like. My dude. Once you find your guy, you have to stick with that guy, Mikey! It’s. Like… a calling. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“You’re only a year older than me.”

“Okay? So, like… give it a year.”

Mikey snorted softly, shaking his head a bit and sticking out his tongue as he wrapped up the game neatly, murdering the shit out of blue Kirby and bringing home yet another Smash Bros victory. Leo groaned loudly, flopping back over the couch and kicking his legs up, comfortably contorting himself into an absolutely asinine position-- one of his favorite things to do. 

“We should play Mario Kart next. I’ll beat you at Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mikey agreed easily, waving a hand a bit. “Put it on then.”

“Why do I gotta do it?”

“‘Cause I gave you free weed.”

Leo groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, okay, finneeeeeee,” he mumbled, getting to his feet, (with only a little bit of a wobble,) making his way over to the console so he could begin picking his way through their, quite frankly, ridiculous collection of video games, looking to fish out Mario Kart so he could get it set up.

And, like, yes, okay. Maybe he got a little bit distracted. But someone put the Red Dead Redemption 2 disc in the Cyberpunk case and obviously he could not let that stand! That needed to be corrected, like, immediately, and then the disc that was in the Red Dead Redemption case had to be relocated, too…

But, I mean, it didn’t take that long. Probably. 

And now their DVDs were organized!

“Okay, all set,” Leo hummed, turning back around to face his brother… who had an absolute hundred-yard stare, gazing off into nothing with his mouth slightly agape. Leo frowned a bit.

“Mikey.”

Silence.

“... Mikey.”

Nope.

“... Mikey!”

There he is. Mikey blinked a bit in surprise, glancing back over at him, processing for a moment, and then laughing. “Oh. Sorry. I wasn’t listening. I just had a really cool idea for a mural… Hang on. I wanna sketch it out so I don’t forget…” He said, quickly fishing out his phone and beginning to draw with his finger, his tongue stuck out in concentration. Leo huffed a bit.

“Okay, fine, just don’t take forever. I wanna do stoned Mario Kart,” Leo insisted, moving to flop back over onto the couch, curling up on his side. Mikey gave a little hum in response, but didn’t spare him much else, clearly sucked into his project.

Leo did his best to entertain himself in the meantime. He scrolled blindly through Instagram for a while, liking a bunch of pics that he would probably get in trouble for later, though who’s really to say? Once he got bored with that, he drafted and deleted about eight different tweets, just barely managing to wrestle his inner demon down into its cage and exercise some impulse control. And he flicked through TikTok for a while, but didn’t really find anything of interest on his ForYou page. And Mikey was still going strong, so…

For a little bit. He was just. Bored.

He hummed softly, curled up on the couch, pulling at one of his curls absently and examining it as he went-- pulling it out straight, and then letting it bounce back, giggling a tiny bit to himself at the motion of it. He remembered when he was little and he and his brother’s would have arguments over who had the curliest hair-- as if it were really ever a competition. They’d do that for everything though-- always trying to see who was the ‘most’ or ‘best’ at any one thing.

He remembered, vaguely, back before April’s mom taught him how to do it properly, his dad sitting with them for hours in front of the computer, one by one, watching YouTube tutorials and trying to tame their hair for them. He smiled a bit at the thought. He had hated it at the time, whining about being bored and having to sit still, annoyed with his father messing with his hair and pulling at it… but now, the memory was… kind of sweet.

He hadn’t thought about that in a really long time, he thought vaguely to himself, sighing very softly. 

It was almost weird to suddenly confront such an old, forgotten memory like that out of the blue. But not unwelcome. It was nice, actually, and he laid his head down against the pillows with a sigh, allowing himself to bask in the warmth of it for a while, running through images of his childhood, playing them on loop.

And somewhere along the way, he realized, vaguely in the back of his head, that he was sleepy.

Usually, at times like these, this moment would be followed swiftly by disappointment. He’d be laying in his bed, trying desperately to get to sleep, absolutely praying for it to take him and knock him the fuck out, and he’d realized that it was happening, he was getting sleepy-- only for the excitement of it to promptly kick a shot of adrenaline through his body, spooking the sensation and scaring it off, leaving him perfectly awake once more and writhing with frustration (which of course only worsened matters.)

But he didn’t feel that right now. He was just kind of aware of it, smiling the tiniest bit at the thought, curling up a bit tighter in on himself and wrapping his arms around the pillow he was snuggled up against to cling to.

Everything was so oddly calm. Pebbled and loose and wobbly, but in a good way, and right now, mostly just calm. And sleepy. His eyelids were heavy. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. Like he was sinking into sleep rather than fighting his way into it tooth and claw. Like it was inviting him in instead of him kicking down the door with a battle cry, bloody and bruised. He was just… ready to sleep. He was never ready to sleep.

Man, this was cool. Marijuana fucking slapped.

He played with his own hair for just a little longer before he yawned, humming very softly.

“Mmmm… Hey Mikey?”

“Yeah?” Mikey replied, after a long beat of delay, not looking up at him.

“‘M gonna go to sleep now, I think.”

“Okay. That’s a good idea.”

“Okay. Thanks.” 

“Yeah. It’s cool. G’night.”

“G’night,” Leo mumbled, laying his head down and allowing his eyes to slide shut.

[thaliasandy]

SMUTTY (NC-17? rated) HellCheer headcanon

It's october 31st 1986, Chrissy took her little brother trick or treating earlier and is still dressed in her angel costume, a delicate white dress with tiny buttons in the front and little white wings on her back, she's wearing her hair down but wears a thin golden hairband that looks like a halo.

Eddie picks her up at 11:30pm in front of her house.

Corroded Coffin played a gig at a bar one town over from Hawkins, not much bigger than the Hideout but with a bigger, more enthusiastic crowd.

He gets out of the car to greet her, she squeaks when he wraps her in his arms and kisses her.

They stopped giving a shit what her nosy neighbors or her parents think about their relationship a while ago.

He's dressed in all black, his pants are shiny black leather, he's wearing a black shirt and his leather jacket, his usually chocolate brown eyes completely black, he's wearing black make up around his eyes and has two demonic looking horns glued to his forehead that are peeking through his bangs.

He looks downright terrifying.

"Oh my god, you look so scary! How did you do that with your eyes!?" She breathes, gently cupping his face in her hands and staring at him.

"Contact lenses, I can take them out if it's scaring you."

"No, I like it. You look dangerous..."she giggles.

"Mhhh freaky" He chuckles against her neck, where he's planting open-mouthed kisses and gentle love bites, not hard enough to leave a mark.

"And you ...look absolutely gorgeous, my innocent little Angel" He takes her hand and makes her spin around so he can get a good look at her costume.

They decide to go to lovers lake, their go-to place to get high and make out.

She looks perfect, laying underneath him, on his black blanket with a white pentagram in the middle, like a virgin sacrifice to Satan, he thinks to himself and it makes him chuckle that that must literally be what people like Jason and Chrissy's mother think he's doing with Chrissy. They're bathed in a soft orange glow from the battery powered string of lights he put on the car ceiling for some 'romantic atmosphere'.

She's flushed and breathing heavy, the buttons of her dress undone almost all the way down, the skirt pushed up to her hips while Eddie gently strokes her through the thin lace fabric of her panties.

When he slips his hand under the waistband her fingers dig into the skin of his naked back, his shirt and jacket were gone pretty much the moment they climbed in the back of his car.

"Too much, princess?" He murmurs against her lips.

"No! ...Maybe it's not enough?..."

She stares up at him expectantly biting her lip.

"You mean...?!Are you sure?"

"Only if you want to..."

He grimaces like she just said the most ridiculous thing.

"...if I want to!? Jesus Christ, I dream about this every night!! ... you're okay with me looking like this?" He motions to his eyes and the horns on his forehead.

"Yes...Take me, my big bad demon boyfriend...Make me yours."

She's giggling, teasing him, her voice sounding even sweeter than usual and he feels like his brain is short-circuiting.

"Or do you want me to call you Dungeon Master?" she laughs, wriggling out of her dress until she's left only in her matching white lace panties and bralette.

He startles her when he grabs her wrists and pins them down above her head, using the full lenght of his body to press her flat on her back.

He captures her mouth in a kiss, ever so slowly grinding his hips against her and is rewarded with the sexiest sound he's ever heard when Chrissy moans into his mouth, loud and uninhibited.

"Look at you, angel, getting ravished by the satanic freak and loving every second of it..."

He trails kisses down the side of her neck, down her chest, inbetween her breasts, letting go of her wrists so he can slide his fingers down the soft skin of her arms and under her bra.

"Can I take this off?"

She nods breathlessly and lifts her upper body up a bit letting him peel the bra from her.

He'd caressed her breasts underneath her clothes before and she enjoyed that a lot but with him looking at her so intensely she feels extremely exposed and insecure and wants to cover herself up with her arms.

He backs up a little, her bra still nervously clutched in his hand, his brow furrowed,

"Did you change your mind, Princess?...We don't have to do this tonight, we can just keep making out...um...If thats okay with you..."

She's amazed and can't help but smile at how fast he went from the bad boy pinning her down and grinding his impressively big erection against her and telling her he's going to ravish her, to the blushing, shy boy, nervously rambling, with shaking hands, all while looking absolutely demonic.

"No! I want this! I meant what I said, I...I want you to make me yours...I'm just nervous..."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You tell me if you want to stop, alright... Or if I do something that doesn't feel good..."

She nods again and pulls him back down on top of her.

"Mhhh you're so fucking beautiful"

He growls, cupping her breasts with both his hands, his thumbs drawing gentle circles around her nipples.

He looks at her through his bangs, letting his lips barely touch the incredibly soft skin on the underside of her breast.

"Can I kiss you here?"

Another nod.

He flashes her a devious grin before sticking his tongue out and gliding it almost painfully slow over her skin until he can flick it over her taut nipple.

Her gasp only spurs him on so he moves over to her other breast but instead of just flicking it he closes his mouth around her rosy nipple and sucks.

"Eddie!!!" 

She squeals and tightens her thighs around his hips.

His mouth makes an almost obscenely wet popping sound when he lets go of her.

"You don't like that?"

"...No! Its not that...it felt really good...actually...I think I felt that in my...um..."

She's bright red now, having trouble keeping up eye contact.

"Hmmm?" He chuckles and lowers his mouth back onto her breast, suckling hard again, making her desperately roll her hips up against his, craving some friction.

"Tell me, princess, where do you feel it?"

He doesn't expect her to grab his right hand and guide it right into her panties.

He gently runs his middle finger along her slit, not dipping inside yet, just stroking her, teasing her, eliciting the cutest little mewling sounds from her.

"Please..."

She's so warm and wet, his thumb glides easily through her folds, seeking out that little nub that he knows will make her feel good. He's made her come with his fingers before, through her panties, but she's so much more responsive like this, her hips buck against his hand, one of her hands holding on to his wrist, the other gripping the blanket she's lying on.

Her eyes fly open when his middle finger carefully pushes against her opening.

"Alright?"

"Yes."

Her answer turns into a gasp when Eddie sinks his finger into her, he can feel her clenching tightly around his digit and he stills all movement, she'd told him how weird and uncomfortable it was when Jason tried to get her off.

"Don't stop, please. It feels good, I'm just not used to...having someone elses fingers there."

He starts moving his finger in a slow rhythm, his thumb circling her clit again.

"Do you think you can take another one, sweetheart?"

Chrissy nods again, chewing on her bottom lip, trying not to moan when he slides two fingers into her. She's pleasantly surprised when it doesn't hurt.

"Relax, you're so tense I can hardly move my fingers."

He murmurs against her neck where he started kissing her again.

He hears her inhale and exhale slowly and feels the muscles inside of her unclench.

"Mhmh, just like that. You're doing so good..."

The needy little whimpers and the way her hips move faster against his hand make him wonder if he's just great at what he's doing or if he discovered a kink of hers.

"You're going to come all over my hand, princess? Gotta make sure you're ready for my dick."

He sucks her nipple into his hot, wet mouth again and suddenly she arches her back, crying out his name.

He smirks at her when she opens her eyes again, not quite expecting her to cover her face with her hands.

"Sorry...I didn't mean to be so loud..."

He slowly pulls his fingers from her wondering for a moment if it would freak her out too much if he licked them clean.

"Hey, it's alright, no one's out here, it's just you and me...and besides...it sounded like I did something right..."

"Oh, I think you did EVERYTHING right!"

She giggles, still a bit out of breath.

"Always at your service, princess"

"Aren't you supposed to be a mean and scary monster?"

He groans when she caresses him through his pants and starts undoing his belt.

"Aren't you supposed to be an angel? Rubbing my dick isn't very angelic of you" He laughs, followed by a deep, breathless: "Mhhh Fuck, Chrissy..."

when she opens his pants and wraps her slender fingers around his painfully hard length. He can't help but buck his hips into her hand.

"Hold on..."

He moves away from her touch and grabs his leather jacket from the front seat, rummaging through the pockets until he finds one of little foil packets he made sure to take with him when he was in his room earlier...just in case.

"You're still sure about this?"

"Eddie, please don't make me wait."

He moves back between her splayed thighs.

"Alright, alright...lift your cute little ass up for me, princess."

He slides her panties off before pulling his own pants down his legs, delighted at the gasp that leaves her lips when she sees him in all his glory for the first time.

"Like what you see?"

She quickly looks back up into his eyes, slightly embarrassed that he caught her staring.

"I...I do! It's just a little bit intimidating."

"Don't worry, I know how to operate this thing."

He flashes her a grin, wrapping his fingers around his cock, pumping up and down just once, before ripping open the condom package and rolling it on.

He places his hands on her knees, encouraging her to spread them for him.

"Come here."

She whispers and motions for him to come closer.

Chrissy feels awkward showing herself to him like that but the feeling disappears once he crawls over her and covers her body with his, holding himself up on his forearms, trying not to put too much of his weight on her.

He's lean but a lot taller than her and towering over her, yet she's never felt safer than right now with Eddie Munson about to take her virginity.

(I was going to post that yesterday on Halloween but I was too busy 🙈

Idk if sclera contact lenses were something you could just buy in the 80s or if they were just used in movie and stuff...but I couldnt get that mental image of Eddie looking like a demon (but not actually being one) making love to angel Chrissy, out of my head...in fact I love that so much I might draw it at some point...)

Also, I had actually already written some of the actual love making but it wasn't good at all...sorry for just stopping there 😉)

[yorshie]

Snippet 2

*Stares at the writing, shakes it sideways, turns it upside down and squints* Guys. I think this is from a Mob AU. It's definitely rottmnt, because there is no way on earth bayverse Leo acts like this. I used Winnie, which is the OC I use in place of a reader when I get tired of writing in second person, or when things might get too *spicy* for second person, so I have no idea where I was going with this.

summary, warnings: Snark. snark. did I mention snark? I'm pretty sure I was just having fun writing imaginary banter. I used breaks in between the snippets so you know when something moves on. Also, just realizing the texting I added was with Donnie, not Leo. Like I said, no idea where this was going.

————————————————

“What is that?” He snagged her wrist, tilted the appendage to get a better look. “Is that cold pizza?” 

“I haven’t eaten yet, nosy.”

“Donnie didn’t think to feed you before dropping you off?”

She shot him a dirty look, and he rolled his eyes skyward. 

“Of course, he didn’t. Go get your coat.” He gestured, let her wrist slip out of his grasp.

“Leo- what, why?”

“I’m taking you to get some food.” Was all he said, as if it was obvious, striding for the door without looking to see if she followed.

“I’m not your girlfriend, Leo.”

That small smirk pulled back on his snout as he looked over his shoulder. “Oh? do you wanna be?” 

She snorted in answer, pulling a chuckle from him as he held the door open. “Smart answer. Now get your coat. If you catch a cold I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Please tell me you are at least driving something sensible tonight.”

“How do you know I didn’t just portal?”

He must of seen the fear on her face, because he quickly added. “I’m joking. I drove. But eh, it’s not sensible.”

“Figures. I don’t think you have a sensible bone in your body.”

He hummed out a laugh, a wicked uptick on one side of his face, and she blatantly shivered. “No. Whatever just went through that pretty head of yours, just. No.”

“Boo.” He said, following after her, and she stopped short seeing the sleek, hungry looking, midnight blue car parked in front of her grandmother’s house.

“Holy shit.” A quick glance between him and the car. “How the hell do you fit in this thing?”

“Carefully.” 

-----------------

“I only drive this when I don’t want my date getting handsy.”

“Yea, no shit.” She was wedged in the microscopic seat, the thrum of the engine behind her an all consuming shake, the chuckling turtle a good two feet away across the panel of controls in the middle. She eyed the stick for a moment, and he caught the wheels turning as he checked the camera to pull out on the street.

“You thought I’d be an automatic guy?”

“I plead the fifth.” She tensed as he pulled into traffic, conscious that they were starting to gain speed in the metal rocket.

“Hah, killjoy. Not even brave enough to get the joke out.”

“I’m too busy being terrified for my life.” It was bitten out, clearly a joke, but his face softened, and she nearly flinched as his hand reached out and rubbed the side of her neck before dropping back to the console. 

“I’ve got you, pretty baby. No need for fear.” That coo, however, was all amusement.

“Fear intensifies.” 

------------------------

D: It seems you are in need of a friend, dear Winnifred.

W: How the hell did you get this number?

D: Your grandmother. I quote “Winnie’s been working so hard lately, but she doesn’t have many friends here.”

W: Jesus Christ.

D: I could go on but we both know older folks have no filter.

W: You better take whatever she said to the grave. I am happy. I have lots of friends.

D: Doubt.

I’m not sure how I fit into the whole friend category, but I thought the chance to bully you too opportune to miss.

W: Of course you did. I’m saving this number as Purple Pain.

D: Acceptable.

What are you doing tonight?

W: Up-potting some roses and watching MASH. You?

D: Meeting my brother for some drinks.

W: That sounds - actually that sounds like a handful.

D: Indeed. Would you accompany me?

W: As in, a date?

D: As in, I don’t have anyone to go with, it’s expected, and I have no one else I would care to ask.

W: … Sure. What’s the dress code?

D: Dress, please. Something either neutral, or purple, modern, tasteful. 

W: Right, right. Statement.

D: Heels.

W: You better be buying drinks if you think you’re getting heels, bud.

D: How I’ve missed your playground antics, Winnifred.

W: I missed you too, nerd

Her fingers paused, reading over the statement. Found she meant it, and took a deep breath, hit send.

His answer came a little later, long enough that she had moved from the living room to the bedroom that had started to feel like her own, trying to remember where the heels she could dance in were.

D: I’ll pick you up at 8. 

Oh, she was going to make him pay.

[my-sibling-wears-a-muumuu]

PAX AM Days

this gonna be a multipart series, so: pt1 , ?

"..so what is pax am days?" Peach asked, lugging generators into the bus. The generators were from inside the city, horrifically difficult to get out.

"You don't-?? It's the biggest festival in the fucking zones, kiddo! How have you lived what.. 5 years?" Neon answers, bringing on the bus another generator.

"3 years, and Sugar wasn't into that kinda stuff." Peach said, dropping their generator onto the last seat of the bus.

"Gotta admit sweets, Sugar hasn't really been into that,, since like... well, you know." Dirt said, cords on his shoulder, and battery pacts in hand.

"Oh well,, yeah that makes sense, he used to love going though. Hey, how is your brother, peach?"

"Sugar's fine, still extremely in love with Jet. You were saying about Pax Am days?" Peach said.

"Oh, yeah, Pax Am days is like, the biggest fest in the zones, besides like, 'Damn the Man fest', but even then that pales in comparison." Neon answered.

"What do you like... do there?"

"There tends to be escaped pornodroids, ones that are still sane at least, live music, good-ass food. Theres also home-brewed alcohol and weed." Dirt answered as they were all getting off the bus to get more of the generators, cords, and batteries.

"Whose playing?"

"I know Ghoul is there as a part of Leathermouth. I think some other people and bands are like.. Misfits, Star, other rock people and then folk music people. It's actually a really nice mix." Neon said picking up various items.

"You mean Star from crashtrack?" Peach asked, also taking various items up and into the bus.

"Yep, his first year doing this actually." Dirt said, straining against the heavy machinery.

"Who all is attending,, like crews we know?" Peach asked, letting out a huff when putting another generator in the bus's back seat.

"I know aerials, and the fab four. Daycare is a no go. Uhh,, oh! You'll finally meet American Idiot! You'll love Jesus." Neon replied

"Like Jesus Christ?" Peach asked.

"Oh no, no no, different guy. His name is Suburban Jesus." Dirt answered. setting the generator down, and leaving to get the last of the supplies.

"I know demi devil is setting up crashtrack there. And demo derby. Scene Queen is setting something up. You'll love it. You gotta come."

"Well, don't we have to set up the generators and shit?"

"Huh, i guess you have a point kiddo." Dirt said, getting the last of the battery packs, extension cords onto the bus, once put down, he climbed into the drivers seat.

"So, like, how long does pax am last?" Peach sat down in the first seat, diagonal to Dirt. Neon sat directly behind him.

"It lasts however long people stay." Neon said. "Joys tend to camp out there. There was a time it lasted a month, shit was fucking wild."

"How long will we stay?"

"Till I've got another tour, which I have one soon, but you have the option of staying with Kobra until your ready to leave."

"How soon is it?"

"In about," She looked at back of her bare wrist, "five days. That gives us a rest day tomorrow, three days to set up pax am, and one day to enjoy my time there."

"I'll talk to kobs about it then."

[pattonsfam-ily]

self destruct

ship(s): creativitwins & analogince (remrom/incest shippers/supporters dni)

description: Remus is having a rough time but his twin is there to patch him up (human au)

warnings: self harm, blood, alcoholism/relapse, eyelash picking, implied pica/disordered eating bc Remus, sexual innuendos/jokey flirting between brothers bc Remus, general grossness bc Remus, basically just Remus being Remus

note: so if you’re not following this blog and find this from tags this is a mini creativitwins focused fic for my sanders sides human!au/roleplay blog LRVerse/pattonsfam-ily where Logan Roman and Virgil are a throuple and live with Virgil’s older brother (my oc) and are best friends with the other canon sanders sides/shorts characters & more of my ocs

Remus was destructive. No matter how much help he got for his issues that was likely to never change. He enjoyed the thrill too much and he would never believe he didn’t deserve to cause pain to himself.

So, sometimes he got himself into some trouble. Like the trouble that had just transpired moments before he somehow made his way to his brother’s house alive.

“Hey, Ro! Your favorite intrusive thot has arrived! But, um, I did a little bit of an… oopsie…” Remus slurs, stumbling into the kitchen where Roman was.

“Ugh, what now? Remus, I swear if,” Roman starts to lecture his idiot brother, not even bothering to look up at him—he was used to his brother always just waltzing right into the house like he still lived there, he did still have a key to be fair—but he stops himself short.

His speech was slurred.

“Are you drunk?” Roman asks and finally looks at him.

He does not like what he finds. Remus’s hands are torn up and bleeding, and there’s a dried streak of blood down his chin. Remus grins at him, revealing blood stained teeth as well.

“Oh, Jesus Christ Superstar. What did you do?!” Roman yells, now making his way over to his brother.

“I… got drunk. Very, very drunk. And I wanted… a snack. So, like any sane person would do, I broke the bottles of the drinks I had and had a little munch. Big deal. No need to lose your shit, brother mine.”

Without another word, Roman gently grabs Remus’s wrist and brings him up to the bathroom.

“Sit.” Roman demands, pointing to the counter.

Remus hops up onto the counter, hissing at the sting in his hands. Roman cringes and grabs his brother’s wrist again so he can look at the hand with the most cuts. There was a small piece of glass embedded in his palm now.

“Sorry, I should have helped you.”

“Oh, please. I clearly enjoy pain.”

“Yeah, unfortunately. Okay, just give me a second.”

Roman turns to the cabinet behind them that held all of their first aid and rummages around a bit. Remus hums a little made up tune in the meantime which Roman would find rather pleasant if the situation was different.

“Okay, this should be good.” Roman mutters more to himself as he closes the cabinet, precariously balancing all of the supplies in his arms.

He then haphazardly dumps them onto the counter beside Remus once he turns back to him.

“Ooh, tweezers? What are they for?” Remus asks excitedly as he picks them up. “I use them to pluck my eyelashes.”

“You mean eyebrows?”

“Nope! I like to put them in jars so I can keep the mites as pets even though I can’t see them.”

“I… Okay, for the love of Artemis and Apollo, please just give them to me.” Roman begs, holding out his hand.

“Aw, Artemis and Apollo. Twins. Like us!”

“Yes, that’s why I say that, Remus. Please, the tweezers.”

Remus sighs dramatically but he does as he’s told, clumsily dropping the tweezers into Roman’s still open hand.

“Thank you, now come here,” Roman says, and turns Remus’s hand palm up. “I gotta get the stupid glass out of your hand.”

Roman thanks his lucky stars that he has steady hands and that Remus’s restless stim was just leg swinging. He’s able to get the glass out rather quickly and disposes of it properly before moving on. He does a quick assessment of the same hand and then the other to be sure there weren’t any other shards. He was clear so he picked up the gauze pads.

“What? I need to stop the bleeding.” Roman explained when Remus eyed him curiously.

“So, I can’t eat them?”

“No.”

“Lame.”

“Your mom is lame.”

“I’m telling.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Remus cackled and wiped a fake tear away. Roman just shook his head and placed one of the pads against his brother’s bleeding wounds. He then held his hand with his own free hand so he could apply enough pressure to stop it.

“Press harder.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Remus.”

Remus just giggled and ignored Roman. Roman sighed and pulled the gauze away to find that the bleeding had stopped. Thank goodness.

“Remus, listen to me. I need to use soap to clean the cuts. I don’t want them to get infected.”

“You’re lucky if I let you use water.”

Roman groaned in frustration but then an idea struck him. Saline wound wash was an acceptable alternative. Remus probably wouldn’t mind that.

“Okay, how about this?” Roman asks before grabbing the solution from the cabinet and showing it to him.

“Wound wash? Fuck yeah. Love that shit.”

“You’re not drinking it.”

“Aw. You’re no fun.”

Roman ignores him in favor of once again grabbing his hands so he could clean them. Once he was satisfied with that he grabbed the roll of gauze and started wrapping his hands. He tries to ignore the fact that his own hand was also bandaged due to self inflicted wounds. They were both idiots.

“Hey, if you’re gonna mummify me you should probably embalm me first.”

Roman decides to completely ignore Remus as well for the time being. He needed to focus. His stupid mouth was also all torn up. He didn’t know what to do about that. Logan would know. Once he’s finished wrapping his brother’s hands Roman pulls his phone out to text his boyfriend. He could easily just go get him but leaving Remus alone right now was not a good idea.

“Salt water,” Roman reads aloud. “Oh, yeah, that’s smart.”

“Huh?”

“Your stupid mouth. You need to swish some salt water to make sure the bleeding’s stopped and so it doesn’t get infected. Also you’ll be able to spit out any glass if you still have some stuck to you.”

“Mouth wounds heal fast. I’ll be fine. Plus I like having blood and glass in my mouth.”

“Clearly. But no. You’re doing it.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Really?”

“Hey, I almost said daddy. You’re welcome.”

“Okay, enough out of you.”

A moment later Logan appears at the door with a glass of salt water in his hands and a grumpy Virgil attached to his side.

“Babe, you shouldn’t have let them come with you…” Roman says, gratefully taking the glass from Logan.

“I tried to keep him away, but he wanted to see the two of you. He’s just concerned, love.”

Roman sighs, nodding understandably.

“Well, thanks, babe.”

Logan nods back so Roman turns to Remus and holds the glass up to him.

“Here. It’s probably gonna sting like a bitch.” Roman says, not as a warning but as encouragement.

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

Remus smiles and tries to takes the glass but it’s hard to bend his fingers with his hands completely wrapped so Roman grabs it before it falls.

“Never-mind, I’ll do it.” Roman grumbles and helps Remus take a sip.

Remus just holds the water in his mouth for a while and scrunches up his face in pain. Stupid bastard was enjoying it too much.

“Swish and spit. Do not swallow it.”

Remus glares at Roman and tries to speak which of course only makes water dribble out of his mouth.

“Remus.”

Remus rolls his eyes and quickly swishes the water that managed to stay in his mouth around before spitting it back into the glass.

“Sorry, I was trying to say that spitting is quitting and is no fun. Unless your target’s a certain someone.” Remus lilts rhythmically.

“What… was that.”

“The phrase ‘spitting is quitting’ is boring so I made it more fun! Do you like it?”

“Sure? I guess?”

“Anyway! Thanks for taking care of me. I’m gonna go see if I can fit my morning star into my mouth now.” Remus says and hops off the counter.

“Remus.”

Roman grabs Remus by the arm before he can go. Logan who was still there with Virgil blocks the doorway as well just to be sure he can’t leave.

“You relapsed and hurt yourself. We need to talk.”

“No, I’m not doing that to you,” Remus says in an uncharacteristically serious voice. “I’ll be fine.”

“Reem, I’ve been sober for years now. I can handle it.”

“Sobriety can be broken at any time. Not worth the risk. Let me go.”

“Remus, I would risk my own life to protect you. I can risk my sobriety for you too.”

Virgil whining slams Roman right back into his harsh reality. For a moment it was just him and his twin. Nothing existed outside of their bubble. Roman almost wishes he could have stayed that way for longer.

“Hey, love, I’m sorry,” Roman says to Virgil. “Why don’t you and Logan go wait for me in our room? I’ll be there soon.”

“No, I wanna make sure you guys are okay.”

“I promise you we’ll be fine, honey,” Roman says and gives Logan a look. “I will come get you both if I need to.”

Logan silently nods his understanding at Roman’s look before picking Virgil up and walking out of the bathroom.

“Put me down!”

Roman sighs and quickly closes the door before Virgil can try to escape Logan’s hold and make his way back. Once he’s sure they’re gone he turns around and leans against it.

“Remus. Please talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

The twins both laugh at this which is enough to ease some of the tension between them. Progress, Roman thinks.

“Okay, look, Ro, I… I’ll talk about this at some point… Just not now, okay? I can’t.” Remus says softly, staring down at the floor.

Roman frowns at his brother’s dejected demeanor. It was so unlike him. Even when he was at his absolute worst he was always grinning like a madman and cracking jokes about his problems. He would even talk about them excitedly, like they were fun to endure. This was completely different and Roman did not like it at all.

“Did something happen? Something new?”

Remus looks back up and Roman is horrified at the unshed tears in his eyes. He only ever cried when something seriously fucked happened.

“Reem…”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“Why? Are you in danger? Did someone threaten you? Because I swear to Zeus I will tear them apart with my bare hands.”

“Ro, you,”

“And my sword.”

“I get it. But, Ro, silly, you know threats don’t work on lil ol’ me. It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what. Come on you know you can tell me anything.”

Roman steps forward and takes his brother’s hands in his, giving him a pleading look. He was desperate. He needed to know what happened to his brother. He wasn’t supposed to be sad like this. Angry, frustrated, anxious, manic, and depressed, sure. But not sad. His depression was different. It didn’t make him like this. This was something truly terrible. It was killing Roman.

“Ro, you’re my literal other half. We may not be literally psychically connected the way people think we would be but your pain is still my pain. I don’t wanna put this on you.”

“Put it on me.” Roman begs. “I can take it.”

“Heyo, take me to dinner first.”

Okay, he walked right into that one.

“Reem, it’s not funny.” Roman says, despite his laughter.

“It’s a little funny.” Remus says, giggling as well.

“Fine, but I still really need to know what happened. If you’re not ready to tell me now then okay. But eventually you will? Right?”

Remus nods, his tears now falling freely. Roman hates to admit it but they bring tears to his own eyes. He opens his arms, silently inviting his brother in for a hug but letting him choose. He’d wait here forever for his decision if he needed to.

Luckily he didn’t have to wait that long though. Remus crashes into his arms. He definitely would have sent them flying back onto the floor if the door wasn’t closed behind them and he was definitely getting snot all over the spot his face was pressed against as he sobbed but Roman didn’t care. He was a prince and so it was his sworn duty to protect his fellow prince—or duke, rather—and he’d do whatever it took to accomplish that. He wouldn’t say that out loud though. Said fellow prince—duke—would just make a bunch of duty jokes and those were never funny. Instead, he says something else to break the tension just a bit more.

“Twin hugs,” Roman mumbles against Remus’s neck. “I will forever be calling it that. You cannot stop me.”

Remus giggles and Roman has never been more delighted to hear it.

[risetherivermoon]

How To Not Die Young - Chapter 14

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"“What?” Remus asks. “Do you think I'm hot, Sirius?” Sirius stutters a bit, lets go of Remus’ wrist and steps back. His back hits the wall. He laughs a little, nervous."

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“I was just…being supportive of my little sister.” He says. Okay, okay, Remus can roll with that. “School spirit, Professor.” He shrugs.

“Is Sirius not allowed to support his family?” Remus asks, looking to Mcgonagall who is staring at them with her jaw hung open.

“That- is not being supportive! It's being destructive!” Mcgonagall expresses. Remus takes a deep breath.

“Professor, with all do respect, nothing was destroyed.” Remus says. He stops for a moment and frowns. “If you were in Sirius’ position wouldn't you want to support your sibling? Sirius’ little sister has been quite sad lately, he wanted to cheer her up, did you not?” Remus turns to Sirius. He nods fast.

“I love my sister, she's so sad and lonely all the time, like she barely hangs out with anyone! Won’t let me talk to her outside of being at home at all, and my parents don't know how to help her…I thought maybe if I cheered her on, I could get her to maybe at least smile.” Sirius says, solemnly. It's exaggerated, and Remus can see Mcgonagall slipping. It's working.

“Professor, If I may, I had a sibling, an older brother. I know this isn't the same, but talking from the perspective of Sirius’ little sister…having an older sibling put so much work into helping you, even if it's something stupid like fireworks at a football game…” Remus sniffles and his eyes water. “I just…well it's important, it helps. My brother, Romulus, he…he died a while ago, in a car accident. I can't help but think of what I'd do for those moments…” Remus can feel tears falling from his eyes.

“Like when we’d go and ride bikes around the neighborhood…and play baseball in the backyard. He was so good at pitching!” Remus covers his face with one hand. “I'm sorry…” A hand goes on his shoulder.

“What he's trying to say Professor, is that siblings…they mean the world to us, I don't know what I’d do if something happened to Dennie.” Sirius says, his voice quiet. Remus sniffles and wipes at his face.

“Okay…just, go you two, please.” Mcgonagall says. “I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Lupin. I understand.”

The two of them get up and the door to the office shuts close behind them. They start walking back towards the field.

“Hey uh, you okay, Moony?” Sirius asks, he grabs on to Remus’ wrist. Remus shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess I panicked and lied a bit.” He says. “I've been an only child my entire life…” Remus says. Sirius looks at him, shocked, as Remus wipes at his face with his sleeve. “Worked I guess, though.”

“That…jesus fucking christ, Moony!” Sirius yells a bit. “You little manipulative shit!” He shoves Remus over and he laughs.

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remus is amazing i love him

sadly this chapter is a bit angsty

have it tho!

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