#now onto the talky tags!

[mechsbrackets]

[I.D.: a 32 team single elimination bracket titled "Most Gender Mechanisms Character!". It consists of 16 matchups listed below /End I.D.]

We now have a bracket! The matchups are listed and linked below! All polls will be tagged with #most gender mechanisms character bracket.

Matchups:

Ashes O'Reilly vs. Scuzz Nishimura (this poll is being WEIRD, please vote on the first version (the one linked here) that only seems to be visible through if you go through the tags. Tumblr why)

The Aurora vs. Yog-Sothoth

Nastya Rasputina vs. The Octokittens

Lancelot vs. Ulysses

Lyfrassir Edda vs. Alice

Galahad vs. Dr. Carmilla

Ivy Alexandria vs. Orpheus

Arthur Pendragon vs. Loki

The Toy Soldier vs. Rose Red

Majors Hatter & Hare vs. Raphaella la Cognizi

Marius von Raum vs. Guinevere

Blogbot vs. Mordred

Jonny d'Ville vs. Odin

Captain Joseph Robert Mathea vs. Drumbot Brian

Frankenstein's AI vs. Iphis

Comsat Cheshire vs. Gunpowder Tim

[skunkes]

[roachemoji]

[barleyo]

Pollen.

Recom! Miles Quaritch X Fem! Reader

A/N: I finished this is 3 hours, so this might seem a little rushed, but I am obsessed with this man in a life-consuming, unhealthy, scary way. I just feel the need to share the goings on of my mind with you all via my writing, so prepare for a LOT of Miles Quaritch posts. When I say a lot... I mean it.

(PART TWO IS OUT)

Wordcount: 1.4k

TAGS: Age difference, phone sex, public masturbation, solo fem and male masturbation, mutual masturbation, voice fetish, sex pollen, phone sex with a stranger, interspecies relationship

Solo missions were not uncommon for Miles. Any one-man job immediately went to him, as a colonel he could hold his own, however, the forests of Pandora were not kind to lone wolves. Everything and anything out in the wild posed a threat, animals and natives. Plants.

He was confident in his physical abilities, and even though he didn’t like to admit it, he was ignorant to the flora and fauna of this world, so in his mind, everything was blended together into a pool of danger and death. Any sound in the still forest was a red flag to him, any leaf crunching or branch shifting caught his attention. That’s why he was so quick to turn around when a loud rustling of leaves sounded behind him.

“Ha!” Quaritch turned around, gun held up in defense, ready to shoot. He held the gun steadily as the sound continued. He slowly brought his gun back into its proper place, strapped over his bare, azure shoulder.

Just as his guard fell, a small wisp of color lunged past him, knocking him onto the forest floor. He looked up, not seeing the creature, whatever it had been. Pushing himself up, he noticed that he had touched a mushroom-like plant. It was bioluminescent, and left a powdery dust on his palm.

“This fuckin’ place,” he sighed, wiping the white dust off onto his cargos. His face scrunched up in discomfort  as an itching sensation ticked at his hand. He scratched at it to no avail. The feeling built quickly from a small itch to a flaming burn. 

The heat spread from his hands to his arms, then to his chest, and soon coated his entire body. It felt as if he were submerged into a body of boiling water like he was being cooked, simmered and stewed in a pot.

“What was that shit?” He groaned, feeling the slick of his sweat drench through his shirt. Quaritch dug through his pant’s pockets and grabbed his walkie talkie, speaking into the front of it. “Colonel to Blue Team, over.” The line was dangerously quiet, the only sound being the fizzing of the radio. “Blue Team? Lyle?” He cursed, not receiving a response. “Forgot how bad the connection was on these things.”

He smacked the device, hoping it would offer him a clear connection. With his slicked palms, he dropped the walkie talkie, muttering profanities to himself. He snatched it and held it to his ear as a final pathetic attempt to connect to his team. “Hello? Anyone there, for God’s sake?” 

To his surprise, there was an answer. Not just any answer, but a soft, clear one.

“Hello? Hello, are you there? This is (Y/N).” 

He shuddered. From relief, maybe, but the warmth spreading to his crotch pointed towards arousal. It confused him, this wasn’t the first time he’d heard a voice as beautiful as this one, but instead of dwelling on it, he frantically spoke back. 

“Yeah, ‘m here, Colonel Miles Quaritch, over.” His mouth was dry and his tongue felt far too large,

“Colonel? Uhm, well, what has you tuned into the lab department’s line? Can I help you?”

Such a beautiful voice, even for a science puke, he thought. “Damn radio won't connect to my team line, but I’m out in the middle of nowhere in this God forsaken forest. I fell on some weird mushroom lookin’ thing and now I’m so itchy and sweaty that I can’t even fuckin’ think straight,” he said into the device, “Hell, I can barely walk. It’s starting to hurt too.” He stretched the fingers on his aching palm, trying to soothe it. It did not work and the pain only shot through the rest of his body, just as the itching and burning had as well.

“Oh, Mr. Quaritch, I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman replied, urgency in her voice, “can you tell me what this ‘mushroom’ looked like more specifically?” There was a twinge of excitement in her voice that pissed him off.

“What’s that gonna do? Damn it, can you just put me on with my team?”

“Please, calm down. If I can figure out what you have interacted with, I can tell you how to fix it.”

He sighed. “I already told you, it was like a mushroom. It left this weird powdery shit on my hand.”

“Powder? Oh my,” she sucked in a breath, “Colonel, I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to answer me. Are you, uh, are you–”

“Miss, can you spit it out already? I don’t have time for this, if you’ve forgotten, I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere and sweating buckets right now.”

“Are you hard right now? Your– your dick, is it hard?”

Quaritch swallowed thickly, feeling the bulge in his pants twitch again.

“Yes, really hard. What does that have to do with anything?”

“The plant that you had touched, it is known to release pollen that arouses one to an extreme, if you do not satisfy yourself soon, the pain will be unbearable.” Miles could hear panic in the woman’s voice and the click of a door as if it were being locked. “You understand, don’t you, Colonel?”

“It’s already awful.” A groan reverberated in his chest as he spoke, “So I’m supposed to jerk myself off in the middle of the forest, right in the open?”

“I’m afraid so, please you must start now, the pain will be much worse without stimulation.” 

He nodded, even though he knew she would not know and unbuttoned his pants, pulled his boxers down, and freed his dick. It was striped, just like the rest of his Na’vi body that he was slowly getting used to. 

Miles nervously grabbed his own length. This wasn’t the first time he had touched himself in his Na’vi form, it was second nature to him now, but this was the first time he had done it out in the open, and the first time he had done it with a woman talking him through it. 

He pumped slowly, fucking his fist. He couldn’t help but imagine his hand being the warm, tight cunt of the woman on the other line. A trembling moan strained from his mouth as he picked up the pace, seeking more friction in his palm. “(Y/N)--”

“I’m still here, sir, don’t worry,” she said, comfortingly.

His face flushed with a purple tint, not realizing she was still there. Obviously she was still on the line, it’s not like she could just leave, he rationalized it in his head. “It still hurts so bad, darlin’, fucking my hand ain’t helping,” he groaned.

“Just try, you must do it. You must cum, Colonel, please. Do it for me,” she whispered into the walkie talkie, embarrassed yet aroused by her own words.

“Fuck,” he hissed, sharp teeth barring down. “Need ya’ to touch yourself too, not fair if it’s only me.” Pre-cum oozed from his fat, leaky tip, beading at his hole.

“O-oh, I’m not sure..” her hands rested on the band of her panties, undecidedly fiddling with the elastic. 

“Can’t cum unless you do it with me, missy, c’mon, need it bad.” His hips bucked into his hand again, moans catching in his throat.

(Y/N) hummed and slipped her hand into her pants. She slid the tips of her fingers through her wet folds, rubbing past her clit with gentle strokes. Focusing on the peaked bud, she drew tight, neat circles over it and felt her thighs try to close over her hand. “Oh, Christ, Mr. Quaritch, it feels good, mm.”

“I know, sweet girl, I know. Tell me when you’re ready, wanna cum with you.”

Lazily slowing down, Miles gave (Y/N) a chance to catch up with him. When he could hear breathy, needy moans from the line, he continued at his earlier pace, slamming his hips into his hand. Her whines were sweet to his ears, he could practically smell her, taste her. He threw his head back and huffed. 

“Close, ‘m really close.”

“Gonna cum, baby girl? C’mon, cum like you’d cum all over my cock,” he rutted into his fist, feeling his balls tighten and stomach coil.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” she drawled out a messy, noisy moan, “Cummin’ now, sir, ah–”

“Good job, baby,” he said through gritted teeth as he spilled his seed on the ground, fucking himself through his fading orgasm.

There was a long, comfortable silence on each line as they each caught their breath. Miles was the one to break the silence. 

“Thank you for helping out, bunny, but it just wasn’t enough. Still hurting. Gonna help me when I get back to base?”

“Yes, sir. Let me find some proper directions so you can come home.”

“Be ready for me when I get there, I wanna see you as soon as I get there, girl.”

[thepersonnamedsam]

Dinner for two

Picture not mine (Pinterest)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x GN!Reader

Summary: Tim had a lot on his mind when he responded to a call that day. What he hadn’t have in mind, that he was taking out the victim to dinner.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none, fluff, season 4 spoilers

Note: This is my second story on Tumblr and my first The Rookie story. I hope it’s bearable to read. Feedback is very welcomed!

masterlist / taglist

Tim’s first week as Sargent wasn’t as he expected. Sargent Grey has been observing his every move and he felt like a rookie all over again. Not to mention all the kids boots he is keep finding in his locker. Tim was exhausted. And now that the department hired Aaron Thorsen, the alleged killer of Patrick Hayes, his brain seemed to explode.

That’s why he didn’t see the sniper shooting coming and how the bullet graced the shoulder of a civilian, you. Tim instantly felt bad and rushed to your aid. His hands tried to stop the bleeding, but nothing seemed to help. How didn’t he see it coming? His brain went into survival mode, one of the first times not for his survival.

You were conscious and breathing, a relief for Tim, but for you it meant pain. Pain you never imagined feeling. And the stressed look of the officer above you didn’t seas your own stress. You tried to take your mind off the pain and your eyes wandered. The nametag of the helping officer read ‘Bradford’. His badge had ‘Sargent’ and ‘3483’ engraved. So, the helping officer wasn’t just an officer, he was the Sargent.

Tim saw your eyes on his badge and name tag, and he realized that he hasn’t introduced himself or asked for your name. “Ma’am, my name is Tim Bradford, you were injured, can you tell me your name?”

His words didn’t seem to arrive to you. You saw his mouth moving, but nothing came out of it.

“Ma’am? Do you understand me?” – “I can’t hear you”, you slurred. Tim’s eyes narrowed and for a split second put more pressure on the wound – you instantly moaned. Why wasn’t the ambulance on the scene yet?

“Control, where is the requested Ambulance? I have a gunshot wound to the shoulder, who won’t stop bleeding. Victim also doesn’t seem to hear clearly. I need backup, now!”

Just as he wanted to yell into the walkie-talkie again, the ambulance arrived on the scene. They rushed to you and provisionally wrapped your shoulder with a pressure gauze. They lifted you onto the stretcher, faces after faces appeared over your own and tried to talk to you, but nothing came through to you. Just as you thought you were alone, the pretty face of the Sargent appeared in front of you. Your heart started to race as his hand engulfed yours. His face softened as he spoke to you again. Broken word pieces came through to you and the bits you caught didn’t stop your heart racing.

“You’re going to make it through, no doubt. I believe in you!”

Even when you were rolled into the hospital, Sargent Bradford didn’t let go of your hand. Only when you were rolled into surgery, you missed the warmth of his hand. And when you woke up, you didn’t think you would feel the warmth again, but you did.

“Good morning, I know you don’t know me, but I couldn’t just let you alone, after all it’s my fault you got shot.”

“Wait, what? How can you be at fault for me being shot at?”

“I wasn’t in the right mindset and didn’t see it coming, I’m sorry. It shouldn’t happen, it’s all my fault.”

“Did you pull the trigger?” Your eyebrow raised your eyes bored into his.

“No?” He looked away ashamed.

“See, then you’re not at fault, everyone has a bad day, it happens.” Your voiced softened, you really didn’t think he was at fault.

“But my bad days shouldn’t affect an innocent civilian’s life.”

“I survived and I can walk away with a broken shoulder, but nothing worse happened.”

You didn’t want him to feel bad, about anything. Not just about the shooting. You wanted to hug him and hold him in your arms and tell him everything will be fine. But you couldn’t, you didn’t even know his name.

“Let’s start over. I still don’t know your name?”, you asked him.  

You saw his face, it softened a bit, relieved you weren’t mad at him. “Tim Bradford.”

“Hey Tim, what’s flooding your brain today?” Your psychology degree came to use after all.

After about three hours, the Doctor came and released you. And Tim couldn’t just let you go. Good for him, you weren’t ready for that either. So, when he wanted to say goodbye, you asked him, if he could drive you home. He immediately agreed and led you to his car.

“You know, as a cop I have to remind you, not to get into a stranger’s car.”

“I’ve known you for a couple of hours, so you’re not a stranger anymore”, you smiled at him. “But you are true, even if you are a Sargent, we may want to start our first date not at my house.”

“But you’re injured!” – “True, but still”, you looked at him and had a mischievous smile on your face. “Ah, you’re trying to trick me”, his head dropped in disbelief and a small smile appeared on his face. “So, take-out at yours?”, he asked, and you immediately agreed.

You ordered Chinese, your favorite, and talked about everything. About his start as a Sargent, your job as a therapist. Your family, his family, especially his dad. It felt like you had known each other since forever. Talking to him was just so easy. Nothing felt out of place or wrong. Honestly, it felt like a dream.

So, when you woke the next morning, you weren’t actually sure, if Sargent Bradford even existed. Your pain in your shoulder distracted you from his absence, but your mind still wondered if it was all a dream. What you didn’t expect, was a cup of coffee and your painkillers waiting in your kitchen. Next to it was a note with his number on it. With a smile on your face, you saved the number on your phone with “SGT. Heartthrob <3”.

                                                SGT. Heartthrob <3

                                                                                                      You left early, xx

I know and I’m sorry

I had to leave for roll-call

                                                                                      It’s okay, you made coffee

I did, was it good?

                                                                                         It was perfect, thank you

You smiled and you couldn’t stop the whole day. But your day was boring, you were never off work, you always had something to do, even on your free days. So, this was your first time, since you started the job, that you had nothing to do. To say, you were surprised when Tim showed up at your house, was an understatement. He was smiling and held up a bag of takeout in his hand. “I thought, you weren’t up for cooking, so I brought takeout.”

And you had dinner again, for the second time that week. And it felt exactly the same as last night. With the exception, that Tim stayed in the morning and brought you your coffee and painkillers himself. Breakfast in bed. 

[the-possum-writes]

[Monster Mash] 🔞

❥Character: (Hugwolf) Finn Mertens

❥Tags: NS/FW, smut, non specified private parts, gender neutral reader, kn0ts, size difference, teratophilia

❥Synopsis: Jake entrusts you to watch Finn while they look for a cure.

❥Wordcount: 1028

❥A/N: Happy Halloween! I couldn't do October themed stuff but I had this request in the bin from AO3 and I figured today was an ideal day to post. 🎃👻🐺

❥Taglist: @foxpearlwilder

"Keep an eye on Finn while we track down the Alfa Hugwolf, don't let him out of your sight!" Is the responsibility Jake entrusted upon you.

"Good hunting!" I'll do whatever it takes to keep him here." Is your vow to Jake as you shakily grasp the walkie talkie, but throughout your conversation, you failed to notice Cinnamon bun being used to free hugwolf Finn from his confinement that was designed particularly to keep him locked up. You dropped the walkie talkie as you turned around slowly and saw a set of yellow canine eyes peering down at you with the utmost need for affection. The warm breath huffing over your shoulder had startled you into a chilly position. His big fluffy arms lift you up faster than you could run away, not that you'd get very far, but it's better than passively being squeezed that has your sides aching and your heart fluttering, and even then, there's only so much of his hugs you can take before falling limp to the hugwolf's touch, Finn sniffs you curiously before huffing in disdain that you couldn't handle his cuddles like many others.

The Hugwolf was more than willing to abandon you in search of a new hug victim, but you're not ready to let him go so easily. Jake trusted you, and you'll do whatever it takes to see it through, especially since it involves your best friend's safety.

"is that all you got?" You manage to stand on unsteady legs, but your arms are sturdy and ready.

This caused the hugwolf to run up to you for another large hug, knocking you off your feet and onto the floor, but instead of feeling the dungeon rock, you collided against Finn's coarse fur as he protected you from the fall, holding you up to him as he rubbed himself all over you. This wasn't too bad if you ignored the fact that you were caught in his grip like a pet owner overly devoted towards their pet; you found yourself snoozing away unconscious because of how pleasant Finn's hold was on you, but then something different startled you awake.

"So soft." With short huffs and playful growls, the Hugwolf caressed you over his chest and midriff, letting you feel a hardened hump pressing against your plump bottom. One of your hands crept away from your side and gently touched the firm bulge that was now warm against the fabric of Finn's shorts, or what remained of them.

The Hugwolf makes you gasp. There's a warmth whirling inside your gut at the idea developing in your head, consequently Finn responded by thrusting his hips forward in a frantic whimper. "Whatever it takes," you say to yourself as you put your hand inside Finn's shorts. His snout nestles into your shoulder as he adjusts his grip on you in a more gentle squeeze, laying the two of you on his side so he can enthusiastically wag his tail, dry humping his growing cock against your open palm that doesn't slow down its stroking. "Argh, I'm gonna hug you so hard," he breaths in your aroma before tasting you directly by licking the side of your cheek, making your face burn warm because it's the closest thing to a kiss you've had from Finn. Except for the one time you gave him mouth to mouth, which doesn't count. Your heart races against Finn's chest as soon as you think the hug can't get any hotter. Finn pulls you up to him and tears your lower clothes, including your underwear, leaving you blushing profusely. "Whoa! Take it easy, there! You're at least twice my size-!" Instead of warning him, it made you want him even more. Particularly now that his heart-shaped paws have turned you over in such a way that your private parts are in full view of his ravenous glare, lapping you and leaving behind enough saliva to give the impression that he was drinking water from a bowl, Finn's tongue stimulation has you jerking and squirming in his grasp as the ecstasy takes over your body and senses.

"Won't let you go" Hugwolf Finn growls greedily. Finn left you so stunned that you were unable to recognize that he had flipped you again, with your back against his chest and both legs raised as he tried to slide inside of you. Finn kept trying to push the leaking tip of his cock inside of you, but it kept slipping away and brushing against your sensitive areas, so you cried out in desperation and grabbed hold of his heated shaft, hoping to guide it straight into your waiting insides. You give a strained, "Oh fuck-!" as Finn doesn't wait for you to calm down and just begins pounding on you like there's no tomorrow. But he also hugs you while you're gasping and groaning, giving you sloppy hugwolf kisses and lovingly telling you how nice you feel.

You imagined he'd already filled you to the full with his entire cock, but there's a lovely little surprise waiting for you just at the base of his length, something round and throbbing, like an unexpected gift wrapped in a gorgeous knot. "Fiiinnn... I don't know if it'll fit... But, but... I want it inside! All of you!" You gasp at the extra heat stuffing you full, practically swaying your hips in sync with Finn's just to try to match his speed to no effect. But who needs speed when the rhythm of this dirty dance begins to lose its pace as you climax right here on Finn's hugwolf cock. Your smaller form twitches in the aftermath as Finn pumps you up full of his warm cum, unable to measure how much of it there is due to his knot keeping you in place, but hey at least you accomplished your mission.

"Hah... I did it~ I'll be keeping you here until Jake comes back with the cure..." You say with a triumphant smile as Finn cuddles up to you like you're a teddy bear. Although now that you think about it, this hugwolf curse isn't so bad, deep down you hope it'll take a while for them to find that cure.

[takochan-writes]

Fucked-up World - Negan x Reader

Pairing: Negan x f!reader

W/C: 2k

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, kissing, grinding, allusion to sex (no sex actually happening), just some a bit of comedy I guess lol

A/N: I’m winging it now. 

I thought I was alone in this fucked-up world….

I just stood there, watching my best friend get bitten by a zombie, and then I ran. I ran into the woods. I didn’t care about anything except my dead best friend. Then, I stumbled on a rock and fell. I cried, attracting more zombies. They got closer and closer. I cried even harder, hoping death would come soon and free me from this madness. 

But no, he saved me. Negan saved me. He swung his barbed-wire bat at them, blood splattering all over me. I was so shocked that I even stopped crying. 

After he finished, he turned to me, offered his hand, and said, "Doll, what are you doin’ cryin’ in the middle of the woods?”

I’ll never forget that memory. I replay it over and over in my head. It’s always warmed me, even though the bad parts still haunt me. Now, I’ve worked for him for five months as his second right-hand ‘man’. I know he’s an asshole and has six wives just for himself, but I still admire him because of that memory. I wouldn’t dare say no to him when he asked me to do something. Tonight, I’m supposed to scavenge some stuff from Alexandria and other places. So, I prepare myself, knowing it’ll be a long night. As I’m getting ready, Simon knocks on my door. 

“It’s time.” he said with a hurried voice.

I follow the others to the truck, but suddenly, a hand grabs my jacket. 

“Come with me for a sec. On my truck.” I turn and see Negan smirking at me with his perfect teeth. I nod and follow him into his truck. 

This is my first time riding with him. He orders me to sit with him in the back seat while Dwight drives. I sit beside him, Lucille resting on his leg. I look straight ahead, trying hard not to be nervous. I don’t want my feelings for him to show. Does he know I admire him as my hero but also have a crush on him? I only told Simon about the admiration, not the crush. It’s taking a long time to reach Alexandria since it’s nighttime. We sit quietly until Negan breaks the silence. 

“Why are you so fucking quiet all of a sudden? Did Simon cut your tongue or somethin’, doll?” I turn to him and see his big smile. 

He knows I’m close with Simon since I don’t have many friends in the Sanctuary. 

“I-I don’t know what to talk about...” I drop my gaze to my feet. 

“Well then, how about we talk about how you really fucking admired me because of that accident in the woods?” His face gets closer to me. 

I snap. I look at him in shock. Did Simon tell Negan? But he promised not to tell anyone. 

“H-how did you— Did Simon tell you about that???" 

“Hell yes. I want to know how you settled in with my boys” His grin widens. 

He’s enjoying this. I can’t lie to him. He trusts Simon and can tell when someone is lying. 

“Y-yes, I really admire you. But please, don’t talk about it. Please, Negan” I grab my pants to stop my hands from shaking. 

He looks at me, confused for a second, then grins again. “I really like the way you say please, doll. How about we go back to the Sanctuary and chit-chat?” He grabs his walkie-talkie and tells Simon to scavenge without us. 

He orders Dwight to drive back to the Sanctuary. When we arrive, he orders me to follow him to his room. My hands still shaking, I follow him quietly. He opens the door to his room and sits on the black leather couch. 

“Sit,” he orders. 

I sit opposite him, but he gestures for me to sit beside him. I obey. 

“Talk to me,” he says, placing his hand behind me and grabbing my shaking hand. 

I look at him, confused. I’ve never seen this side of him before. Is he really this sweet? I break into tears and hug him tightly. Then I remember he’s still my boss. 

“I-I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to.” As I start to break the hug, he hugs me back. 

“Don’t be.” I cry even more onto his chest. He rubs my back to calm me down, and it works. 

“I fucking knew from the start you were a tough gal. When I found you crying in the woods, I knew you’d been through some shit. I was really worried about you and I was certain that day that I wanted to help you. Really. And I promise you that I’ll protect you whatever the cost, doll” He lifted my chin to see his worried face. 

I nod. “In my entire life, I’ve never allowed myself to cry like that because I knew I had to be tough when things got bad. Just like... then...” My eyes water again, but I try to hold myself together. 

“What really happened that day, doll?” He cups my face and circles his thumb on my cheek. 

“My best friend died and I saw it happen right in front of me. He was like a brother to me. We’d been best friends since kindergarten.” He wipes my tears and I continue. 

“He helped me survive in this fucked-up world. We scavenged together. He taught me how to fight and fire a gun. Then, when we were scavenging, I let my guard down, and a zombie almost bit me. He saved me but got bitten himself. I just stood there like an idiot. He shouted for me to run, so I did.” I start to shake again. 

Negan holds me tight. “Stop right there. You’re safe with me now. I promise.” He kisses my temple gently. 

I hug him back tightly. “Negan, thanks for everything. Thank you for saving me back then and—" 

“Shh... don’t mention it, doll.” He cups my face and smiles at me sincerely, not with his usual asshole smile. 

I nod, and we try to get up at the same time, tangling our feet. We fall back on the couch, with Negan on top of me. I blush immediately. His face is close to mine. He smirks. He can probably see my face turning red. 

His face gets closer, and I place my hand on his chest to push him back. “N-Negan, I—” 

“Shh... doll, don’t be shy.” He insists, trying to kiss me, but I hold him there. 

“No, Negan, it’s not like that... I—” 

“Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop. Don’t worry” I blush even harder and clasp my hands over my face. 

“I… I don’t know if you’re gonna judge me or not… it’s just--”

“Don’t tell me… you’re still a virgin, doll?” He asked worried but intrigued

I blushed immediately and tried to cover my face

“Fucking hell, doll, that’s hot. It makes me even harder. But I need your consent. It’s your call.” He smiles and kisses my cheek. 

I don’t know how to answer. I want to do this, but I’m scared. “Don’t be scared, alright? And don’t worry about my wives,” he says sincerely. 

“J-just do it.” 

“What was that?” 

“Just fuck me already.” I look at him, still blushing. 

“There you go,” he grins. “I’ll go easy on you. I’ll make you feel good, doll.”

He starts to rub my sides and kiss me again. Now, I don’t resist anymore. I kiss him and throw my arms around his neck. He licks my bottom lip, and I open my mouth for him. Our tongues tangle, exploring each other’s mouths. It gets sloppy, and I break the kiss to breathe. 

“On the bed,” he orders. 

I obey as always, and he chuckles, whispering in my ear, “You’re very good at being submissive, doll. I’ll enjoy every minute of it.” 

I lie on the bed, watching him undress eagerly. When he pulls down his briefs, his length springs free. My eyes widen. I’d imagined how big he’d be, but not this big. 

“Do you like what you see, darlin’?” he chuckles. 

He gets closer, hopping on the bed to close the gap between us. I moan. He kisses my neck and grabs my breasts. He flicks and pinches my nipples until they’re hard. It seems unfair that I’m still in my clothes, so I try to pull my shirt off, but Negan grabs my shirt. 

“Doll, let me do it for you,” he says, continuing to kiss my neck. 

He slides his hands under my shirt, making me moan in impatience. He’s taking his time. He grabs my breasts under my clothes and gently massages them. 

“N-Negan, please,” I plead. 

“Please what?” He looks at me with the biggest grin. He’s enjoying this too much. 

“Please... fuck me already.” 

“Whoa, slow down, baby girl. So eager.” He finally pulls my shirt and bra off, looking at my breasts with excitement. “Damn, fucking gorgeous.” 

He sucks my nipple and plays with the other. I gasp at the feeling. I’ve never done this before. He switches to the other nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue like a pro. His hand slowly caresses my stomach and moves to the front of my pants. He presses lightly and chuckles. 

“You’re soaked through these pants,” he says, chuckling.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Ugh! Who the fuck is it?!” Negan exclaimed.

“I-it’s Dwight, boss,” came Dwight’s muffled voice.

“Fucking ruining our little party, huh?” Negan winked at me. “Wait here, doll.” He got up from me and the couch, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist to hide his erection. He half-opened the door. “What the fuck is it?! It better be a fucking good one!”

“I-it’s Rick, boss. He stole our guns again.”

“WHAT?! YOU TELLIN’ ME HE GOT OUR FUCKING GUNS AGAIN?! WHERE THE FUCK IS SIMON?!”

“Simon is on it, boss. He said to inform you, so I—”

“Fucking hell, D! Okay, get the fuck out, I’m busy!” Negan slammed the door. I shifted on the couch.

“Everything's okay?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t heard anything.

“Yeah, just stupid Dwight. Let’s continue, shall we?” He smirked at me as he got back into position. I nodded and made room for him. I placed my hand on the towel and rubbed him through it, teasingly slow. He groaned, rubbing himself against my hand.

“Negan, I need to feel you,” I moaned. He quickly undid my pants and underwear.

“Oh baby, you are soaked! I fucking love it,” he whispered in my ear, slowly dragging his hand from my stomach to my clit. I gasped, feeling his rough hand on me.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you? Fuck yeah, you do,” he said, rubbing his thumb on my clit harder. I moaned, throwing my arms around his neck and lifting my hips for more access. “Say my name, baby,” he whispered.

“Negan... fuck... Negan.” He groaned, sliding his hand from my clit to my entrance. As he slid his middle finger inside me, the door slammed open wide. Negan and I jumped and looked at the door. Negan would be furious once he found out who did that.

“NEGAN! Oh… shit...” It was Simon.

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?” Negan screamed and threw me the towel to cover myself. He got up, naked and with a raging boner, walking towards Simon at the door. Simon backed up a bit, unsure.

“Why the FUCK did you do that, Simon? You better have something SO IMPORTANT that you interrupted me at this time!” Negan said, almost screaming again. I could see he was about to snap if Simon said the wrong thing.

“It is important, boss. Rick’s men are IN the Sanctuary. But I took care of it. They’re in the cell now. And I’m sorry about… that,” Simon said, looking at me with a smug expression. Fucking Simon.

“Well, can you fuck off? I’ve been interrupted twice now! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING ROOM!” Negan slammed the door in Simon's face. He stood there for a minute and then looked at me over his shoulder. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’ll lock the door now.” I heard the click of the lock, and he walked back towards me. “Well, well, where were we?”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Seven.

Huge thanks to the little regular LOTD book club for your enthusiasm, and a big, warm welcome to new readers @zablife and @meera10! Lovely to have you here, darlings!

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,355

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

“James? Ya’s getting up today, pet?”  

His stare didn’t even flicker, lying on his side, eyes fixed on a point past where Mary stood. “Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been doing so well lately and look at ya’s now! All sullen again. Do you want to tell us what’s wrong?” It had been four days of watching him slowly retreat into himself, but this was by far the worst downturn in his mood. It was now concerning. 

He gave no response to her question, eyes still boring a stare into the wall opposite his bed. 

“Alright,” she asserted, sitting her bulk down on the edge of the mattress. “How about we have a chat about music, hmm?” 

That usually pulled him from his gloom, Mary knowing if there was one subject James could chatter away about at length, it was anything musical. Again, his face didn’t even flicker. This wasn’t good. “Nothing to say, hmm? I’ll have to report this to Dr. Beaumont, love. I can’t have you just lying here not responding to us.” 

“M’alright,” he finally muttered. “Just wanna stay here.” 

“Ya’s can stay here, but I don’t believe you’re alright, pet. I’ll have to get a doctor up for an emergency assessment.” She pulled her walkie-talkie from her belt, about to call down to the nurses station when his hand reached to grasp hers. That was big for him, James not being a particularly affectionate person. 

“Don’t do that, please. I just wanna stay here and not be poked at or fucking questioned, innit. Got enough noise in my head, Mary. I want quiet, that’s all I need. I’m not gonna fucking rampage or nothing, or try and do myself in again.”  

She knew from experience that his words were only likely half true. “Tell you what, I’ll cut you a deal. You tell me what’s wrong and I’ll hold off on calling for a doctor. Ya’s can’t go back to bottling things up, James. We both know it doesn’t do you any good.”  

He finally shifted, turning onto his back, his hand still clasping hers. “Fucking got myself in a top grade mess, Mary. Dunno what the fuck to do.” He paused, the kindly nurse letting him gather his thoughts, knowing well how he struggled to articulate himself at times. “Can I be moved out of here, to another facility? I think it’s what I need to do.” 

What the hell had brought that thought on, she wondered, her thumb stroking over one of his knuckles. “It can happen, but it’s rare, pet. You have to give very good reason for requesting a transfer, and then there’s finding a bed for ya’s elsewhere, too. Why is it that you want to leave us?” 

He took a breath, puffing his cheeks with a sigh. “Because I don’t think I’m gonna be able to concentrate on my recovery if I’m in the same place as Ella. Don’t wanna hurt her, or me. She deserves a better version of me, and I ain’t that right now.” 

She had wondered. “I figured she might have had something to do with it. We’ve all noticed and been keeping an eye on ya’s both, over the last few months. Has something gone wrong with her? I wasn’t sure, because she’s been climbing the walls without ya’s around, asking us constantly where you are and if you’re alright.” 

That hurt his heart, to hear she was acting exactly how he knew she would at him absconding to his room. “Nah, opposite,” he sniffed, scratching his chin. “I like her a bit too much, and it’s getting better I need to focus on. Not her. No matter how much I want to. That and I don’t like Dr. Beaumont. Don’t think her methods help me. She makes me feel like a lab rat.” 

“Well, complaining about your doctor wouldn’t be enough for a transfer, but admitting a relationship with a fellow patient that you feel isn’t helping your mental state just might be. We do discourage that very thing for a reason, sweetheart.” 

God, how he could see the sense in that now, now he was stuck in an emotional quagmire of his own making. “What needs to happen, for me to see if I can move somewhere else?” 

“You’ll need to put in an official request, fill out some paperwork. Then it’ll either be approved or rejected by the senior doctors, while we search for any other facilities that could take you. Might not be in the Warwickshire area, though. Your next of kin would need to sign off on it as well,” she spoke, watching him nod. 

“Get me the papers. I need out.” 

“Alright, love. Get dressed and come down to the nurse's station with us, you can fill them out down there.”  

“Yeah, alright. Sound.” 

She went to wait for him outside, James quickly washing and running a brush through his hair before pulling on fresh clothes and walking with her down a floor. The main nurse’s station was on the ground floor, meaning he’d have to pass the common room. Of course, he was seen.  

“James!”  

He wanted to keep walking, but his feet rooted him to the spot, Ella running for the doorway and flinging her arms around him. “Why haven’t you been around? I was worried!”  

The last thing he wanted. “Haven’t been feeling right, little. Look, I’ve gotta go with Mary. I’ll come and see you in a bit.” 

“Are you okay, though?” she asked, hands stroking his chest. He shook his head.  

“See you in a bit.”  

Something cold and unpleasant licked her insides to see him like that, so distant and despondent. He’d barely even hugged her. There’d been no smile on his face. A horrible thought crept through her brain, a wondering she didn’t want to address. Was it her? Had he gone off her? Surely though, that wouldn’t lead to him sequestering himself upstairs away from everyone for four days, if it was just that.  

Also, it was James. If he had a problem with somebody, he very much told them.  

While she meandered back into the common room, he sat himself down at the other side of Mary’s desk, clipboard rested on his legs, beginning to fill out the paperwork he truly didn’t want to, but knew that he had to. Just seeing her there again after four days absence had made him simply want to pull her close and vanish into the happiness of her sunshine, but he knew he couldn’t. Not until he was better. 

“James, I have to ask you,” Lucy, one of the nurses began, pointing at him with her pen. “What do you use on your hair to keep it so beautiful?” 

“Wash & Go.” 

Her mouth fell open. “Get out of here. You have hair that shiny and lovely from a two-in-one, and here’s me, hot oils, conditioning masks and all that malarkey! That’s not fair!”  

Finally, his mouth twitched into a smile. “Yeah, I know. And I dye it, so it should be dryer than a nun’s crotch, but it ain’t.” 

She threw her head back at his joke, laughing along with a couple of the other nurses. “Well, just so you know, I’m officially envious. Bloody beautiful hair.”  

“Thanks.” Going back to the forms, he filled in each section, giving his account over why he wanted to transfer. Trepidation crept over him then, looking to Mary and making a beckoning motion. She leaned closer. “She won’t find out, will she? I don’t want her to know about this until I’ve gone. If I can go. She’ll only get upset and stressed.” 

“No, pet,” she confirmed, “it’s all confidential.” Leaning back, her heart went out to him, seeing quite clearly how he was doing something that went against what he felt for the young woman he grown so obviously fond of, but proud of him for acting in what was likely both of their best interests. It showed growth and maturity. It was a shame; they were very sweet together. Recovery always took precedence, though.  

“Right, I’ll get that handed in later. I’m going out the side for a smoke, guys. If that man from the stationary company calls again, tell him to bugger off. I’ll not be mithered about bloody box files!” she spoke, taking the clipboard back from him and detaching the sheets of paper.  

“Can I come with you?” he asked as she stood, Mary nodding. 

“Aye, you can. No bother.”  

They left through the side door of the nurse's station, out to a part of the facility he’d never seen before. It backed onto the kitchens, the smell of lunch cooking making his stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten much at all over the last few days.  

Before Mary could reach for her own cigarettes, she had a pack of Benson & Hedges proffered in her direction, James lighting his own. “Thanks, love.”  

“Out of everyone on staff, I’ll miss you the most if I go. You’ve always been cool, Mary. Always made me feel like a person and not just a fucking mental patient, innit.”  

In truth, even though he’d been a handful upon arrival, she’d be sad to see him leave, too. In any other circumstance, it would have been happy, and she always enjoyed giving the patients a big hug in parting when they were well enough to leave the safety of Moor Acres. He wouldn’t be leaving because of wellness, though.  

“In turn, I’ll miss not seeing you around here too, love. You’re the only person I can talk to about how Volume 4 is the best album Sabbath ever did.” 

He grinned, albeit fleeting. “It is, though. I mean yeah, you have to give credit to the debut, but you’re right. Volume 4 is a solid masterpiece. Top grade amazing,” he replied, leaning back against the wall and taking a long drag on his cigarette, looking contemplative. “Mary, am I doing the right thing? She’s gonna feel like I’ve fucking abandoned her.” 

In all of this, it was Ella he was probably more concerned about, and the nurse could see that clearly. “Aye, pet. I think ya’s are. As for Ella, perhaps instead of just leaving without telling the lass, sit her down and explain it, make her see that it’s not anything she’s done. Giving her a little time to come to terms with your decision might make it easier on her?” 

He knew her well enough to know that it wouldn’t. She’d panic, she’s stew on it, and well... 

“Can’t. I know her and I know she’ll try and get me to change my mind. I know me, too, and if I have to see her there crying and begging me not to go, I won’t. Simple facts, man. I’m too fucking weak for that lovely little thing. It’s gotta be this way.”  

He looked troubled by it still, no matter the resolve, Mary cocking her head as she took a drag on her cigarette. “May I suggest you perhaps write her a letter, and I’ll give it to her once you’ve gone? If you go, that is?” 

“That might work,” he nodded, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. 

“She has it right there then, in your words, telling her it wasn’t anything that she did. I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I sometimes think it’s easiest to write out how we feel than speak it.” 

She made a very valid point. “Yeah, fair comment.” Crushing his cigarette beneath his boot, he leaned to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for being so cool.”  

Smiling, she waved her hand. “It’s what they pay me for, pet.” 

“Nah, you go beyond that,” she frowned. “You’re fucking sound, and I’m really sorry I was such a dickhead to you when I first got here, scratching you and trying to bite you and all that.” 

“I’ve had a lot worse, love. Get yaself back in and I’ll be along in a bit.” He went back through the station door, leaving her there to contemplate just how much he’d grown since arriving. Sadly though, it wasn’t enough. The fact he could go from catatonic one moment to quite amiable the next showed that his mental balance was still off kilter.  

Heading into the common room, he sought out Ella, jerking his head in the direction of the front doors. She was pleased to see him looking a little brighter, but she knew something was off, taking his hand and following him down to the entrance.  

“What’s been going on with you, then? Like I said before, I was bleedin’ worried about you. Not cool beans, vanishing on me like that,” she spoke, squeezing his hand as they walked down the path. 

“Just ain’t been feeling right, little. Wasn’t anything you did or said before you think that. You’re fucking amazing, but I’m a headcase. When I get like that, I’m not good around others, so I just say on my own.” It was partly true, at least. The full truth was that he’d needed that time away from her to come to the decision he’d put in motion that morning.  

He was adamant that he wouldn’t tell her, though. For whatever time he had left there at the facility, should he be allowed to transfer, he wanted to at least try and be happier. And spend time with her, because he knew he’d ache for her if he was granted his request. They moved down to the tree again, resuming the same position as always, but this time, there would be nothing scandalous. 

“So, I’ve been really down without you around. I think I require some funny stories to lift my mood, and you always have plenty of them, what you and your mates get up to,” she requested, gathering daisies from the grass and heaping them in her lap, ready to fashion herself a daisy chain.  

He was thoughtful for a few moments, trying to remember a few he had yet to recount to her. “Did I ever tell you about the time a heckler threw a glass of beer onto the stage, and it hit Snedders?” 

“No!” she cried, turning with her mouth dropped open. “What a twat! Was he okay?” 

“Yeah, Snedders was fine, but he still climbed from behind the kit, found the bloke, and showed a drumstick right up his nose. Blood fucking everywhere! It was mint, to coin one of your phrases,” he chuckled, remembering it. God, how that guy had deserved it. 

“I’ve never understood that, why people go and see bands they don’t like purely to give them a hard time,” she mused. “Seems like a massive waste of time, innit.” She then paused, closing her eyes. “Oh Christ, you’re rubbing off on me! Got me saying innit, you shit.”  

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry. Innit.”  

Nudging him with her elbow she continued her chain assembly. “Do you get many people like that at your gigs?” 

“Oh yeah, plenty of haters. One loudmouthed American guy in Germany was screaming us one night all the way through between songs, targeting me especially. The last time he did it, he screams at the top of his lungs, ‘Hey, War! You fucking suck!’ So, I just shrugged, yelled back that he’d paid to see me suck, then got a gob full of water and spat it all over him. I wanted to kick him in the face, but German police don’t fucking play around, man. I can behave when I have to.” 

“I’d have paid to see that, and I bet you didn’t suck,” she began, affixing another daisy onto the chain. “But I think I’m missing something. Why did he call you War?” 

“Stage name. It comes from our neighbour hearing me playing guitar one afternoon and yelling that it sounded like the four horsemen of the apocalypse were coming through the building. So then Steve starts thinking which one I’d be and landed on War being pretty perfect. Pestilence was a close second, though.” 

“Yeah, that’s like, really fucking apt for your temperament!” she smirked. “What about the other lads? What are there’s?” 

“Steve’s is Berserker, Gaz is Tyrant, Dan is Necro Storm and Snedders is Fury. Pretty top grade really, considering how that bloke beats the skins. I might rip it out of him all the time, call him a flid and a useless wanker, but fuck. Guy’s the best goddamnned drummer I’ve ever heard,” he replied, smiling with obvious affection. 

“You miss them, don’t you?” she asserted, finishing the daisy chain and doubling it carefully around her wrist, leaning back against him. She envied him a little, having such a close circle. Her eating disorder had meant she’d pushed her meagre few friends away, only really having her mother, Jane and Jane’s best friend, Hester, who she was also close with. Andrea too now, she thought while smiling. 

“Mm, yeah I do. I think having my life as I know it taken away, it’s kinda made me realise I might actually want to live it more than I don’t, innit.”  

“Dr. Beaumont would call that growth,” she chimed, reaching her hand back and stroking the side of his neck, James moving his to rub her forearm gently, drinking it in, that moment there with her.  

Growth it might have been, but it wasn’t enough to stay there with her, and that killed him more and more with every passing moment.  

“Are you feeling better now, than you have been over the last few days?” she then asked, turning to press a kiss just beneath his jaw, dark stubble prickling her lips.  

“Ish.” Yes, he felt better for seeing her but no, not at how his head was still a battlefield of utter chaos. “Like I’ve said before, though. I always feel better when you’re around.”  

Kissing her head, he wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and enjoying the peace of the moment, the simple joy of having her near, the grounds quiet. The only thing that disturbed it was the drone of a lawnmower in the near distance, James shutting out all of his head noise so, if only for that time, he could just be. 

“I’ve never asked you this before, but you just mentioning being at home made me wonder what it’s like, your flat,” she began, taking a section of his hair and twirling it around her finger. “Where abouts in Nuneaton is it?” 

“Do you know Wellington Road at all, if you go off the high street and down to where all the old industrial buildings are?” 

“Hmm, vaguely,” she hummed, “go on.” 

“We live in what used to be a paint factory. It got converted into flats about six years ago. It’s a fucking shithole but it’s got character, all the original brickwork and windows and all that. Gets fucking freezing in winter without no double glazing, but it’s a listed building so they had to keep the outer appearance intact. Rent ain’t much either, because again, shithole.”  

“I shall look forward to seeing this shithole in person at some point,” she spoke, smiling up at him, James dropping another kiss to her head. 

“Mm. At some point, yeah.” Time would only tell as to when.  

They stayed outside talking for most of the afternoon before heading in, James actually pushing himself to be social and spend time with her, even though his head didn’t quite feel engaged in it. He wanted to drink up as many moments as he could, though, and he’d need to as well.  

“James, come in, love,” Mary called to him, catching him on the way to the common room two days’ later, beckoning him into the nurse’s station. “I’ve just heard back from upstairs. Your request has been approved, and we’ll be transferring you to Erdington Hall Psychiatric Unit in Birmingham tomorrow morning.”  

It mattered little that he’d requested it. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach to hear he’d be leaving so soon.  

[maddestmewmew]

HI IF ANY FNAF FANS ARE READING THIS THE TAGS ARE HERE FOR BLOCKLIST NOT FOR. TRYING TO REACH FNAF FANS…THERES NO HATE UNDER THE CUT ITS JUST ME BEING REALLY FUCKING CONFUSED ABT FNAF LORE

ok now thats out of the way. JESUS CHRIST have i just entered a fucking. rabbit hole?? OH MY GOD??? i was a massive fnaf fan in my preteen years, as was everyone ever in the 2010s..ive dialed back my enjoyment of it, ill watch playthroughs of the mainline games and ive seen the movie but thats kind of it. this being relevent bc i watched an into the pit playthrough, and then saw some tweets about it. MOST of them i understood, until i hit a tweet talking abt some kid named andrew?? and how hes not an sci??? and i was like Hold On. maybe its been some years but i cant be THAT behind can i. i know all the important names..michael afton and cassidy and charlie and what have you..

so i look up the wiki for this kid andrew, and it leads me to a story about a ghost kid attatching himself to william aftons spirit and torturing him and shit. i was a bit confused bc like. isnt that cassidys thing? but Whatevs. also the stories seemed weirdly bizzare to me, like not in a hateful way but like. why is william afton getting an exorcism. anyway it brings up a couple (A LOT) of names i dont understand, but what my brain latches onto is this kid jake, who is described as forcing andrew to Stop torturing english willy, at the cost of Now Hes Stuck Possessing An Endoskeleton. okayyy this is fnaf to me. i didnt know this but its abt what i expect from five nights at freddys.

so i head to jakes wiki out of curiosty, and find out he is from, no joke, one of the most fucking depressing stories ive ever read? i dont mean in terms of fnaf, i mean, FUCKING EVER. JESUS. CHRIST.

its like. in the middle of a fazbear frights book. fazbear frights being these scary stories to tell in the dark type books where its collections of spoooky stories that will shape the minds of children everywhere, but like. fnaf themed.

this story is called “the real jake” and i Highly reccomend you read the wiki instead of hearing it from me like. fourth hand. like im retelling a retelling here. but if you want that ultra telephone sypnosis, here you go:

“the real jake” follows a nine year old boy who is bedridden. with cancer. his mother is dead and his father is overseas. jake is taken care of full time by a nanny, margie.

jake likes to talk with a boy in his cupboard, named simon, who is really his father over the phone, through a walkie talkie. at first, jake and “simon” talk about what jake has done that day, but jake cannot leave his bed, so jake gets frustrated that all his stories are so mundane and depression. so one day simons like, okay, tell me what the REAL jake has done. and its a little game of pretend, where jake tells these silly little stories about what the “real jake” did that day. one day, jakes friend tries to get him to sneak out to go to the arcade, and tries to get him there by dragging him in a wagon, but jake is too weak to make it to make it to the wagon and collapses and throws up, and he explains to margie he wanted to be the real jake for a day.

at some point jake and margie are playing chess, and jake gets super frustrated that he cant see straight. margie calms him down and jake tells her that he loves her, causing margie to break down, and then she Later Finds Out The Doctors Are Ceasing Treatment For Him, which makes margie realize she loves jake as a son.

AND THEN MARGIE GETS THE CALL THAT JAKES FATHER WAS FUCKING KILLED. and she has full custody of jake. she cant bring herself to tell him his father died, so she says simon wont be able to visit for a while.

AND THEN JAKE FUCKING DIES.

AND THAT IS IT. THAT IS THE END OF THE STORY . THEY JUST MOVE ON AFTER THAT. HOLY FUCK??? IMAGINE BEING LIKE 9 AND PICKING UP THE LATEST FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDYS BOOK AT THE SCHOOLASTIC BOOK FAIR AND THEN READING A STORY ABOUT A LITTLE BOY COPING WITH HIS CANCER AND THEN FUCKING DYING ALONE. FREDDY FAZBEAR WASNT EVEN THERE.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: The Price of a Life

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: Dubcon, rough piv sex, that thing when you want it but you're too dry so it hurts - don't do it please just don't, creampie, Joel is bossy, enemies with benefits, unprotected sex (it's a postpandemic military dictatorship, there ain't no condoms, but there is in the real world, so slap rubber on that meat before inserting it), canon typical violence.

Summary: You are a FEDRA agent who find Joel Miller outside the QZ, but let him go because he saves your life. The next time you meet, he thanks you in his own special way.

Words: 2,546

 You have just entered the building for a sweep when you hear a clatter in the next room. Pointing your gun and flashlight against the door, you approach it on light feet, your eyes fixed on the dark opening. Nothing more is heard, and you can’t see anything, so you enter and immediately check behind the door.

The room is cluttered with debris and dust, a mausoleum picked out by years of raiders. There's a pushed over wardrobe in the middle of it, and you move around it to secure the back of it.

In the same moment as you see him, a man stands up from behind the wardrobe, pointing a shotgun at you.

"Drop it," you command him immediately, shining the light into his face. You recognize him from the QZ: he's one of those who burn bodies. And he deals drugs, you know that, too. The local FEDRA agents are well aware of him breaking curfew and doing supply runs outside the QZ, but as long as he keeps his head down, keeps them with pills, and doesn't cause trouble, they're willing to look the other way.

Actually finding him here is another thing, though. There is no way you can look the other way now.

He's staring at you, eyes as black as coal. You know from hearsay how dangerous it is, but this is the first time you see it for yourself. He looks ready to leap at you: his broad body is as tense as a pulled bowstring. All he needs is a window, a crack, and he'll have you.

"I'm warning you," you add, but you know that this is just about who draws first. He will pull the trigger on you. He does not move, he barely even blinks.

That's when you hear the hiss slightly behind you. You turn your head towards it just as the infected monstrosity attacks, and in the next moment a gun goes off, the shot making your ears ring. You jump back, expecting to be hit, but the infected has stumbled onto the floor and is bleeding out fast.

Heart racing, you turn back to the man, gun pointed at him. He, in turn, has his shotgun pointed at the infected, but directs it immediately back to you.

You take stock of the situation, and twitch when your walkie crackles. Your CO wants a report on the shot.

The man is completely still, finger on the trigger, waiting for your next move. It only takes you a second to decide. You lower the flashlight but keep the gun pointed at him. You press the com button on the walkie-talkie.

"One infected, terminated. It's clear. I'm coming out."

You receive confirmation from your officer, and start to back out of the room, eyes and gun trained on the man, flashlight lowered. Even in the half dark, you can see his obsidian eyes watching your every move. When you're out the door, you stop for a second and just look at him.

Last chance.

You lower your weapon and leave the building. When you step out to the sunshine, you realize you've been holding your breath since the attack.

Night has descended and with it, curfew. You patrol the dark, deserted streets of Boston, nodding to a passer-by that you know from previous patrols: he works late, and has a permission slip. You're not going to bother him again. His droopy eyes and shuffling steps tell you everything you need to know: he just wants to get home, to his bed, and sleep for as long as he can before it all starts again tomorrow.

QZ night watch might seem much easier than running missions outside the city walls, but it's just another side of the same coin. You're on your own, and you know how dangerous smugglers can get. Your arm will always bear the scar from one that got a little too close with a knife once.

A searchlight from one of the watchtowers passes by, illuminating the street, before continuing over the buildings. In the wake of the passing light, you see a figure slipping out of an alleyway and hurrying across the street. You raise the rifle and switch on the flashlight.

"Stop!"

The figure does not slow down, so you start to run. It disappears into another alley, with you in pursuit. As you turn the corner, you run into a tall, broad frame. The rifle is yanked from you, and you're slammed face first into the brick wall. You're wearing a helmet, but the impact makes you bite your tongue, and the taste of blood fills your mouth.

Before you've even gotten a good look at him, you know that Joel Miller is standing right behind you, sturdy arm pressed against the back of your neck, the length of his body pressed up against you, one of your arms twisted behind you back.

You made inquiries about him, discreetly, after the episode outside the QZ. The things you found out would have been blood-curdling to pre-pandemic you, but since the outbreak, you've done some heinous shit yourself. Joel Miller’s rap sheet, had he had one, seems almost normal now.

In the harsh light of day, inside the QZ, you would watch him carry bodies and throw them onto the burning heap of dead people. His ruddy face half concealed behind a bandanna, he was still easily recognized by the gray in his dark hair, the scowling intensity of his stare, and the way he carried himself. He seemed to be fueled by a quiet rage that only needed a spark to flare up and consume everyone around him, moved with fatigued determination. He had boldly met your stare from across the pyre, and there was something about the look he gave you that moved something deep inside of you, something you thought was dead and forgotten.

"Release me," you now spit, trying to snake your other arm behind you, looking for a grip of his head. Joel twists your arm a little tighter, and you let out a hiss. A little more, and he'll dislocate your shoulder or break a bone.

"Any other weapons?" he demands in a low rumble that does something to you despite - or perhaps because of - the threatening tone.

"Glock. Right hip," you yield, and Joel quickly finds the holster, snaps it open, and pulls out the gun. You hear it clatter to the ground further away.

The second he's holding the gun, you shoot out from the wall, using the momentum to bang your head back against him, hitting his chin. He curses but slams you back against the wall, like you are just a ragdoll who didn’t just use all your strength to try to break free.

“Don’t do that again,” he tells you, “For your own good.” Is that amusement you hear in his voice?

You spit blood but stay still. Joel is pressing you against the brick wall with his body, and you haven’t had a man this close to you in… well, a long time. There’s something stiff rubbing against your ass cheeks and your head swims when you realize that it could be something other than his holster. His warm breath burns the little stretch of skin that shows at the back of your neck, between your helmet and jacket. You smell him; smoke and stale clothing with a hint of dusty leather. Swallowing, you hope he can’t feel your pulse, because your heart is racing at an embarrassing speed.

There’s a scratch of static from your walkie as the tower wants a report from you.

“Tell them everything is okay,” Joel says immediately, releasing you enough so that you can answer and confirm that all is well. As soon as your hand is off the HT, Joel captures your wrist and turns you around. Just as you face him, the moon breaks out from behind the clouds, and you gaze up at Joel’s face, lit by silvery light. He comes across as even more menacing in the cold moonlight that deepens the shadows in his face, sharpens his nose, makes the gray in his hair and beard almost glow. His glower is the same as before, but there is something else there: curiosity.

And something deeper, darker. Your gut drops, your pussy clenches.

“Please, let me go,” you ask him, ridiculously polite. Joel releases your hand and slides his palm up your arm, fingers closing around your throat as he eyes you so intensely that you find yourself wishing you could just sink through the ground.

“I will,” he lets you know in a voice that despite its calm lets you know that he’s issuing a threat, “but only after you take what I give you.”

You swallow hard when you realize what he means, and he feels your throat muscles flex. His thumb comes to a rest over your windpipe, rough pad caressing your prickled-over skin.

“I… I let you go earlier!” you stutter, mouth going dry, yet pussy growing wet. Joel smirks as he pushes down on your windpipe.

“I know.”

With that, he leans in as if to kiss you, but hovers right in front of your face. Your face burns in shame when you realize that you’ve come forward in anticipation of the kiss despite the added pressure on your windpipe. He cocks his head, the dark smirk spreading.

“You might enjoy this after all.”

He’s embarrassingly right. When he releases your hands to unzip your jacket, you just stand there, passive in the moonlight, letting him pull open your jacket to throw an almost uninterested glance at your chest. He proceeds to your belt, unbuckling it and pulling your pants down without ceremony, your shorts following.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” he murmurs as he shoves his hand between your legs, fixing you with his stare. Burning under the intensity of his dark eyes, you want to cast down your eyes, but find yourself hypnotized by him. His fingers push through your wet lips, causing a shiver to run through you. You whimper when he slips one finger inside you, not far, but enough for you to clench around it.

His grin is infuriating and makes your cheeks burn even hotter.

"Just be quiet and it'll all be over soon."

I don't want it to be over soon. The thought lands in your mind, makes itself comfortable, and renders you pliable as Joel manhandles you so that you're back to facing the wall. You hear his belt buckle snap open, his hot breath is on your neck, and then you feel his stiff shaft at your entrance. You press your eyes shut in anticipation and whine when he starts to push inside. You're wet, but not wet enough for him to just slip in. The friction makes you groan, and Joel immediately covers your mouth.

"I said be quiet."

You bite back on another whimper as he pushes deeper. Sweat breaks out on your forehead and you lean it against the cold brick wall. You should stop this, you should elbow him in the side, fight back, bite his fingers to cease his slow, painful invasion. But you can't, and you won't. Your fingers grasp at the coarse wall, and you clamp your teeth together, and you take it, let him claim you, inch after unwilling inch. When he's all the way inside, hips connected to yours, he stops still, hand sliding slowly down until his fingers slowly curl around your throat. You stay completely still, afraid to move, unwilling to move in case your non-compliance inspires him to just leave you where you stand. And that is the last thing you want, to be discarded and disregarded by Joel Miller.

"Is this what you've been thinking about up in that high and mighty tower of yours?" he growls into your ear, pulling out a little before thrusting back in, making you choke on your held back moan.

"You've been thinking about me fucking you in an alley like this, haven't you? I could see it in your face the first time I laid eyes on you."

Your Yes comes out as a pathetic little snivel, and he rewards you with another thrust. Your pussy is beginning to coat him in enough lubrication to move with less resistance, but you're still gulping at how tight a fit you are providing him with.

He ruts into you, faster and harder as lubrication starts to permit more movement. Nailing you to the wall, he releases your throat and places his hands on your hips instead, to help him ravage you with greater force. It's fast, it's brutal, and it's fucking good to be used, be useful, not just a pawn or hired gun for some faceless government agency, no, now you mean something to a real person, and you haven't been meaningful to anyone in a very long time. And it feels so good, his cock just feels so good the less traction there is, maybe you'll even be able to cum, fuck, when was the last time you had an orgasm? You push your ass out as your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Joel immediately picks up the pace, as if understanding what you are trying to accomplish. There is no more speaking, only muted moans, panting breaths, and the lewd, wet slapping filling the alleyway. You keep your voice down by biting down on the sleeve of your jacket, choking for every time Joel slams his hips into yours. Then he slows down, his breathing becomes strained, and he buries himself in you, all the way in, and you feel your fluttering core fill with thick, hot semen. His hips twitch, driving himself even deeper, however that even is possible, and your hipbones scrape against the wall. One of his hands is released from your hip and covers yours on the wall for just a fraction of a second before he pulls out and takes a step back.

You hear him zip up his jeans, and you turn around slowly, hoping your legs will carry you. He's looking at you from under heavy eyelids, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"We're done."

You pull up your pants and find your voice. "I didn't even cum." You hear how whiny and bratty you sound, and lower your eyes when Joel steps up to you again. He places two fingers under your chin and raises it, forcing you to look at him.

"Maybe next time you won't chase me into an alley and try to shove a gun in my face," he instructs you in a voice that makes your pussy clench around the cum seeping out of you. His thumb drags over the corner of your mouth, and you become aware of the dried blood there.

"You're bleeding. Clean yourself up."

With that, he backs further in between the buildings, kicking your Glock to you before disappearing into the shadows. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, sort out your clothing, pick up your handgun and rifle, and step back out of the street. An excited smile spreads on your face.

So, there is a next time?

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

ecstasy (dogsdogs) - shortfic

Explicit // M/M // Nigel (Charlie Countryman)/Will Graham // Tags: club owner Nigel, rookie cop Will, strip club, trans masc Will, virgin Will, references to drug use, attempted non-con drug use, getting to know each other, flirting, banter, hook-up, lap sex, grinding, unprotected sex, mix of AFAB and AMAB terms for Will's genitalia, first time, loss of virginity, prompt fill.

For the WGA Server's Fic Scramble. My prompts were:

• Bottom Will trope: virgin Will 

• Scenario/place: strip club 

• Random tag: bantering 

• Random thing: ecstasy

Dragged to a strip club by co-workers, rookie cop Will is about to have a really terrible night - then Nigel steps in.

ecstasy (3.7k):

Nigel didn’t like trouble in his club, and the group of men currently at the edge of the stage had looked like trouble from the moment they walked in. They were rowdy in a way he didn’t like, in a way that usually meant one of them would try and touch the girls. And all but the youngest of them looked like fucking thugs. 

Between their thick meaty fucking heads, Nigel could see a young man who looked really fucking uncomfortable. He hated that shit. 

He wasn’t stupid, he knew that the vast majority of customers in his club didn’t give a much of a shit about the girls, didn’t appreciate their skills, or the fucking art of the whole thing. But he hated it when people were forced into his club. Usually dragged along by some toxic macho dick cheese that thought they needed to man up, whatever the fuck that meant. 

“Hey,” Nigel called across the bar and caught the server’s eye, then nodded towards the group. He received a nod in return and the server picked up the walkie-talkie from next to the till point and spoke into it. Nigel couldn’t hear over the noise, but he knew what was being said - this was how it worked. 

A few minutes later, one of the bouncers appeared at the back of the club and positioned himself to watch the group. The moment even one of them stepped out of line, they were fucking gone. 

*

Will grimaced. This was not what he had wanted.

He became a cop because his dad was a cop, before he’d been retired by a gunshot. The man had been miserable all through Will’s childhood, forced to fall back onto boat maintenance and telling Will he should aspire to be a cop like he had been before that damn perp. He’d been raised to not really expect or want anything different - to be a cop was to be a man, a real man as far as his dad was concerned. And yet, he hadn’t realised how much his heart truly wasn’t in it until he went through his training. 

And now here he was, a rookie surrounded by some of the worst men he’d ever met. 

“This is it, Willy boy! Need to get you a private dance. Might even get your dick wet!” 

A large hand slapped him on the back as he tried not to cringe outwardly at the words. Thank god none of them knew. The thought of it all coming out terrified Will - they were shitty enough with him as it was.

They all went back to rowdily and now drunkenly, shouting at the women up on stage as they stripped off their bras and danced on poles. It was actually amazing to watch - not because women did anything for Will at all, but because their skill was undeniable. One woman moved in a way that looked almost like a magic trick, he had no idea how she was even still holding onto the pole - it looked like she was floating. 

He was at least grateful that his colleagues seemed to interpret his wonder at the women’s skill as lust. He just had to get through the rest of this evening. 

With a sigh that he tried to stifle, Will picked up his drink, raising the glass to his mouth. 

Before he could even press it to his lips, the glass was violently slapped from his hand. 

And then all hell broke loose. 

Continue reading on AO3

[pebiejeebies]

PART 10 (FINALE) OF MY CABLOON ANALYSIS! GO TO MY #CABLOON-ANALYSIS TAG TO FIND THE FIRST POST!

(I’m gonna make it easier to access the older ones, I’ll make a master post, then I’ll make it so you can check the next part by a link so you don’t manually tire yourself, give me some time cause I need a mental break from my shutdown 😭‼️)

Literally one of the most precious moments I’ve screen recorded in my whole life, the way he’s sitting beside her, laughing just like her, writing in her files, both of them equally sharing the same annoyed stare at silver spoon (Which is something a lot more common than I thought it was)

THIS.

This is just.. *wipes away tear*

Too perfect..

I wonder what happens to Mephone..? (Good lord I am still traumatized till this 

Now expect MANY MANY MANY random screenshots of my babies togethr 

STOP HOW BALLOON EXCITEDLY INFODUMPS WITH CABBY JANSHEHSHQJJEDHHJWWJ

They’re autistics in love I tell you

LOOK AT HOW HE’S TOUCHING HER AHHH (please don’t thkae that out of context omfg—)

I have a feeling that she was slightly uncomfortable here (sTOP PROJECTING YOURSELF ONTO CABBY PEBIE!! STOP!!)

Its canon guys he was trying to impress her here too

Why else would he give her that smug ass look?!/vpos

Then he sees uninterested cabby and gets sad :(

stop guys it’s actually so sad

The way she got excited when she said that was SO SASAADDDDD 

SHES SO STRESSED OMG I FEEL YOU GIRL AAHHHHHH

AHAHGSGAHHSHHEHGWG😭😭‼️‼️

I CANTT THE POOR GIRL IS HORRIFIED

Unsure if she was looking at Mephone or Balloon, but I guess they’re beside each other here, so uh excuse me lol

STOP

STOOOOPPP

THEYRE IN SYNC YALL

LOOOOOOOOK!!! HANDS ON HIPS, SAME FUCKING FACE TWICE, AND IN THE SAME SCENE TOO OMFG

CABBY AND BALLOON RAISE ONE HAND AUTISTICALLY, AND THE OTHER LIKE SILVER SPOON, FROM. THE. SAME. SIDE. AND LITERALLY HAVE A SIMILAR FACE!! I-I CANT BELIEVE HOW MUCH THEYRE ACTING LIKE EACH OTHER WITHOUT EVEN NOTICING IT IM FUCKING EVAPORATING AND EXPLODING… EXVAPORATING!!!

THATS LIKE.. 3 SYNCED POSES + EMOTIONS IN ONE SCENE IM GONNA CRY

GRRRRRR HOW COULD YOU SHAKE MY BOY LIKE THAT!!

ALSO. WHO THE FUCK DARES CALL MY BABIES INSECTS.. LOOK WHO THE FUCK CAME FROM THE DEPTHS OF EARTH ITSELF LOOKING LIKE ONE!!/silly /nsrs /omfgdontkillmeafterthisplease—

Erm actually… Cabby and Balloon are definitely engaging after this. Real. And uh she has AWESOME YINYANG, AAAAND BOT!! Balloom has an awkwardly clingy and.. well.. pathetic friend aswell, but hey! Even they have something to leave with! Look at silver spoon..

He doesn’t have candle on his side anymore

Btw.. look at this: You see how Balloon is holding his arm and looking at cabby?

Do you think he, well… wants to hold her hand?

LIKE— NO SERIOUSLY LOOK

STOOOPP AAAHHH MY HEART

YOU CANT TELL ME THAT HE ISNT WORRIED ABOUT CREEPING HER OUT IF HE HELD HER HAND

(Uh wow maybe me projecting myself up there could make sense— OH MY GOD IM GETTING SO MUCH HEADCANONS IM HAVING A HEADACHE YEEEOWWCH)

It’s either (Read this well cause it might confuse you the first time you read it)

He wants comfort from her

Or

He wants to comfort her

Or

This is all accidentally lining up too well

Or

I’m just delusional and this isn’t even lining up at all

WOOOOAAAAAHHH!! EPIC BATTLE SCENE IN REEAAALL LIIIFFFEEEEE?££\#+@}+++}={==£[&$]^)-][.

(Just distract yourself Pebie, ignore how AE made an evil alter of silver spoon aswell.. calm DOWN)

STOOOOOPPPP!! WE GET IT!! THEYRE SOULMATES!! H.. HOW DO THESE TWO HAVE SO MUCH SIMILAR MOMENTS LIKE THIS OMFG/vvvvvvpos

My babies are sticking together OMFG I’m actually exvaporting STICK TOGETHER BABIES!! YOULL GET OUT OF THIS ALIVE!!! HH.HOPEFYKLU

IMANNAHAHWGSBHDJDJAKAKKSNDJD

IM SHAKKIIJHHHHH OKDMDHAHBBAHHHWHGGDGGDAAAAAA

WEEEE SHE SAID WE

SHE SAID WE OMFGGFGAFFSFVS

THE WAY SHE SAVED HIM IN CLUCTH IM FGGISNNG

IM GONNA.CRUY. IM SUBHIAJJJJSJ

LISTEN UP WALKIE TALKIE. YOU DONT DRAE THREATEN CABBY’S FUTURE HUSBAND AND GET AWAY WITH IT GRRRRRRYEHAHWJSJ

But let’s be fr, As much as I love Mephone and his silly shenanigans, this literally affected me the same way it did for them, just.. look at their faces man :(

NOOO NOOO!! STOP STOP STOOOP I DIDNT AGREE TO THIS!1 DONT HURT THEM!! PLLEEEAAAAASSSSEEEEEE 😭😭😭‼️‼️‼️ IM LITERALLY SHIVERING FOR THEM OMFG MY BABIES

I SWEAR IF YOU LAY A FINGER ON ANY OF THEM ILL FUCKING—

Deep betreath… breeaathehees… I’m not ANGRY. nooo wayhhhy.  ,.,,uhm..—

HEY AE.. DO THEY MAKE IT SO THEY ALL LIKE MEPHONE IN THE END?? CAUSE LIKE.. It would be so awesome, it would be so cool—

Yeah WHOOOOH!! I took yesterday night, from 8/9pm to 11pm, STYAED UP ALL NIGHT CAUSE I COULDNT SLEEP FROM THESE TWO, stayed up until like.. 10am, fell asleep, woke up at 2:40pm and BAM! FINSIHED AFTER A DAY!! YIPPIEROONIES!!! (Edit: Two days, since I had to leave, came back at 9:50pm, finished at 11pm cause bedtime lockdown, then woke up at 10am today and started to do it again, so I technically finished at 2pm today)

I have a feeling that someone reading this started liking the ship, or felt curious about their rare pair interaction (if they had any/lh), but either way, I’ll tell you how THIS rare pair even EXSISTED.

(THE LORE OF WHY I EVEN SHIPPED CABLOON)

Let’s start from the beginning. In some of the episodes, before I knew I kin cabby, I always had a little fascination towards balloon, his issues living with him for so long and how he still struggles to make a good image of himself was just. Cute to me (stop I KNOW you simp for objects too.. DONT DENY IT!!)

And at episode 17, after I found out I kin cabby, I started to like their interactions more, and since this ship was a HEAVY SELF INSERT, It somehow made sense.

They both struggled to gain a good image, they both had a toxic friendship in the past that got resolved, they both have TOO MUCH ISSUES, and they both act like each other so much it’s actually wild

None of us EVER cared to really analyze hidden relationships in the show, and this is actually a good example, if I never simped for balloon like the ‘loon’atic I am

*knee slap*

I would’ve NEVER noticed their cute feelings for each other

As much as I wanna continue talking, I feel like this ramble will never end, so I give you a cabloon doodle!

And I bid you farewell *bows dramatically*

[barleyo]

Your requests are open... you've put the words "Corrupt Cop Daichi" in my brain... Imagine you're just like. Driving on the highway and you're not even speeding but somehow he knows what you look like so he pulls you over because you're a cutie patootie... Dubious consent follows... Daichi in a cop uniform... Reader bent over the backseat of the cop car, door open, fully visible from the road but not caring because CoP dAiChI? AHHhhhhHH? (Idek if this counts as corrupt but cop daichi is cop daichi you know)

It's 9:30 in the morning but it's never too early for Cop Daichi argargargargargarg

Mr. Officer.

Cop! Daichi Sawamura X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: CORRUPT COP DAICHI IS MY EVERYTHING!!! Ugh dirty nasty cops who abuse their power :3 I wanted to make him mean, but my sweet, sweet Daichi could never be mean to a pretty girl... he still gets crazy with power though!

Tags: power play/imbalance, alcohol mention, small age gap (18—23), dub-con, p in v, quickies, coercion n all that good stuff :3

Wordcount: 900-ish

God, you were lucky that you were pretty, because you certainly weren't smart or slick. Daichi knew college kids were stupid, always doing risky stuff for the hell of it, but really? You were too drunk to walk in a straight line, let alone to be behind the wheel of a vehicle. 

He couldn't help but feel the pang of interest he felt when he got a good look at you after pulling you over. With the way you were driving, he was certain you'd be a blind old lady, but no. Just a college cutie. Damn it, it was hard to be stern with those. 

"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked, trite words second nature to him by now. 

If you googled the definition of the word "wasted," your face in that moment would be the illustration accompanying it. 

Your face was red and warmed, no doubt tinted by all the cheap liquor you threw back at whatever frat party you came from. Eyes lazy and half-lidded. Hiccups and inconsolable giggles.

"No," you said, drunken euphoria flooding through your system. "I'm sorry, Mr. Problem, is there an officer?"

"Jesus Christ."

Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose, not entirely sure what to do with you. On one hand, it was his job to take you into the station, take your name down, and rat on you to your parents. Maybe scare you straight with a few nights in a holding cell.

On the other, well, you were a sweet little thing. Drunk and stupid as you may have been, he didn't have the heart to haul you away like a criminal. Girls with pretty faces aren't meant for life behind bars, even if only for a couple of hours. 

"C'mon, let's get you out of here. Step out of the vehicle, please," he ordered weakly, still conflicted. 

You complied, of course, stepping out and stumbling, falling forward. He caught you, letting you hold onto his forearms during your spell of dizziness. 

You stayed in his arms, drunkenly fiddling with the walkie talkie strapped to his shirt while you prattled off whined and pleas.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked while running a hand over his arms. "You're not gonna be a 'cop' about this whole thing, are you?"

He held back a snort, peering down at you. He made no effort to get you off of him, in fact, he rather liked the way you were feeling up on him. His nightly patrol was getting a little boring, and he usually had to deal with violent, dumb-as-hell college guys who drove drunk.

Cute, touchy, drunk, dumb-as-hell college girls were the easier route by far.

"Kinda my job, hon," he replied, struggling to keep a stern tone. "How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"Nothing, I swear," you slurred, shaking your head at him in defense. "Totally sober! Promise!"

Bullshit.

"Yeah, right. 'Nothing' meaning every drink handed to you, I assume?"

"Okay, maybe, but I can drive fine!"

"You almost served into a tree earlier," he deadpanned, placing his hands on your shoulders with an unamused look. 

You giggled right in his face, pressing your warm face against his chest. 

"You're funny."

What the hell was he supposed to do with you now?!

Once he clicked his bodycam off, he knew he was going to give in. He was only a man, and men are weak. Something about you, how easily the situation was playing out— it was too tempting. It almost felt like a set-up, or maybe that was just his guilt and paranoia acting up.

He wasn't alone in this, his buddies in the force pulled sly shit like this all the time. No harm, no foul, right? You get off scot-free and he gets a little something in return. 

Everyone's happy. 

You definitely sounded happy, squeals and moans falling from your mouth while he bent you over the hood of your car. 

He knew he was wrong for this. He didn't care. It was dark out, chances of someone catching him low. Besides, it was hard to focus on anything other than the wet, warm hole clenching over him. 

"Lower your volume," he warned, pace unsteady and sharp. The hand he had wrapped over one of your thighs tightened its grip, warning you. "You want someone to see you like this?"

He could see the back of your head shake 'no,' and could hear your moans start to muffle themselves with a bite of your bottom lip. 

"Awh, didn't mean t'shut you up," his voice was softer, hand running over your hip apologetically. "Lemme hear you, jus' don't get too loud."

He was already sloppy with how he was fucking you, but when he heard the pathetic cry that you let out, his body was inconsolable. He wasn't in control anymore, he just let himself be led by pure lust. 

He pressed a shaking hand on your lower back, deepening your arch for him. He bullied your cervix's tip, acutely aware of how sensitive it was. This was far deeper than any guy had ever reached for you, way deeper. 

An intense flush of pleasure ran over you while you came. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the risk of it all, or maybe just the hot officer doing it to you, but your orgasm felt much stronger than you had felt any other time. The feeling of his cum landing on your ass and the sound of his deep groans were just the cherry on top of it all. 

[dracarialove]

📄F it, I'm posting my finished fics here, too 📄

Heartfelt Holidays

*Check the 'heartfelt holidays' tag if you haven't read chapter 1

[Chapter 3: Irish's Lucky Picnic]

Irish the Hedgehog hosts a Lucky Clover Day picnic, which Sonic and his friends happily attend. Rouge goads Shadow into going with her, as well.

Happy, upbeat Celtic music poured from the open windows of a wood cabin, floating through the chilly air of an expansive clover field while a chipper green hedgehog danced around his living room.

Making up his own lyrics to accompany the instrumental flutes and bagpipes, he tapped the soles of his shoes against chestnut floorboards and finished sealing up the last of a hundred large green envelopes.

One of them, he sent off to a specific friend – the others, he tossed into a wicker basket before donning his black top hat and jauntily strolling outside.

His peppy stride took him to the hot air balloon parked near the backside of his home, which he climbed into and got to work lifting from the grassy ground.

The balloon boasted a bold orange color with a stark white stripe across the middle, carrying the blue-eyed hedgehog in a thick woven basket only big enough for one passenger.

With fire lifting heated air into the round nylon envelope, his transport escaped the clover-ridden pasture, then floated off in whichever direction the wind blew.

It wasn't long before the letter that'd been mailed ended up on the doorstep of Sonic the Hedgehog's modest home. When he opened the front door, he saw the green rectangle lying on the stone step; curious, he grabbed it and ripped open the flap, then pulled out a mint green sheet of paper.

While scanning emerald eyes over scribbled letters, his conscious read the words, "Dear Sonic – Get yourself ready for some fun, lad! To celebrate Lucky Clover Day, your friend is hosting a Lucky Picnic in that grand old park outside the city. Swing by, enter the raffle, enjoy the music, and bring your friends! Oh, and don't you forget to wear somethin' green if you don't wanta get pinched! Cheers – Irish the Hedgehog"

"Well, I'll be!" Sonic said out loud, grinning at the invitation. "I haven't seen Irish in a while! I'd better tell the others."

The Blue Blur rushed off to recruit his friends for another holiday event, all the while his acquaintance was floating towards the city in his simplistic vehicle.

Irish kept the balloon lower than normal, wanting to just barely clear the buildings for his plan to better succeed. He'd been over a few other towns, where he'd dropped the invitations from the basket, letting them float down or be taken by the wind towards citizens at random.

Now, the cheerful young man did the same as he drifted above the city, repeatedly flicking envelopes from the remaining stack of fifty at the open space below. They gently fell and were wafted in different directions until they touched the ground or were caught by the people walking about.

In the downtown area, Rouge the Bat had begun her day, preparing her club to be opened whenever the employees arrived. She held onto a walkie talkie while taking extra care to dust the statues that dotted small sections of the casino lobby; and when she heard the crackle of a male voice come through the small speaker, it was her cue to meet with the staff.

She opened the big double doors and smiled at the bouncers who were waiting on the other side, then greeted the DJ and bartender as they walked in. Her bartender, a dark green fox, walked beside her and held up a sheet of mint green paper.

"Hey, Rou, look what just happened up town – someone was dropping these fliers from a hot air balloon." A laugh escaped his youthful voice and he handed her the paper. "I know you like parties – well, I guess it's not really a party, but... I thought you might want to know about it, anyway."

The shapely woman perused the paper as they approached the first-floor bar, then she smiled and looked up at him. "This is great! Thanks for bringing it in; I would've never known."

The two shared a chuckle and the fox took his place behind the bar. "Have fun! Tell me all about it later."

Rouge gave him a brief thumbs-up before heading back upstairs to the loft she'd made into her personal bedroom. And after flying up through the hatch that sealed off her private space, her silver heels thumped lightly on the thick wooden boards and across the small area to near the window, where her companion Shadow the Hedgehog lied eerily still on the extra twin mattress.

He was faced away, but the business owner suspected he was awake, standing next to the quiet lifeform with one gloved palm on her hip. The other hand briefly shook the green paper, rustling it while she cleared her throat to get her friend's attention.

After a silent moment, his deep voice asked, "What?"

"We've been summoned," she responded, her own tone smooth and lightened by a glossy smile.

His body turned slightly, enough to look at her with a single ruby eye. The dark hedgehog looked tired and already bored with the day, but not much grumpier than usual. "A job?"

"A party-"

An immediate groan from Shadow interrupted her statement, his form turning away again. She rolled her eyes, not surprised at his reaction, and folded the paper to be left on the nearby end table which occupied a corner. Her free hand gravitated to the other hip, both arms resting bent while Rouge looked down at him.

The irritable man grumbled, "Didn't we just go to one a couple weeks ago? What is it with you people..."

She sensed he wanted to say more, but he trailed off instead. With a sigh, she spoke, "Shadow, you've been in bed all morning. It's time to get up and do something with the day!"

He sighed as well, rather heavily, then groggily sat up and swung his legs to the side of the mattress. With the furrowing of his brow, he looked up at Rouge and replied, "Let me get my bearings. I wasn't planning on following your lead today."

"Take your time, hun." She watched him stand from the bed and stepped aside to let him pass, then turned towards him as he walked away. "By the way, slip on something green; the party invitation mentioned it's a tradition."

Shadow scoffed and knelt down to open the hatch. "Fuck that. If I'm going to this thing, I'm not wearing another stupid costume."

Rouge's eyebrows rose in surprise at his harsh reply, watching the hedgehog drop down through the open hatch to the floor below. 'Well, then... he's in a grouchy mood.'

Just outside the city, Sonic and his friends were arriving to the park where Irish was hosting the Lucky Picnic event. The area was a large, lush plot of land, with signs along the perimeter declaring it an authentic landmark.

The trees, bushes, and flowers were cared for by inhabitants who had a passion for the planet's natural beauty, allowing them to thrive in an environment where the buds would soon bloom. Each one of the gang were wearing something green, per the letter's suggestion.

The blue speedster himself had thrown on a thin, forest-green jacket to be shielded from the brisk breeze. Amy Rose sported big silk bows on both wrists, Tails wrapped an emerald-colored bandana around his neck, and Cream wore a crown made of clovers.

The group of four took in the sights of various picnic setups, seeing handfuls of green-clad people resting on blankets and sharing light meals from twined baskets.

A short wooden platform was planted near the center of the park, bearing a standing microphone and three thin podiums covered with blankets. Accompanying the platform was a speaker that played joyful, mystical music.

Amy carried the woven container with all of their food in it – and Tails held onto the blanket they would be sitting on. Now they just had to scope out the space and find a spot to lay out their own setup.

Sonic led them farther into the grassy place, and before long, he heard a familiar voice nearby. Looking to his left, the Blue Blur easily recognized his friend Irish by the loud, accented tone he spoke in; he was chatting jovially with a couple of guests not far from them.

"Hey, there's our host!" Sonic exclaimed with a smile. He took a step in Irish's direction, saying over his shoulder, "I'm gonna go say hi – you guys can choose our picnic spot and I'll catch up later."

Amy watched with dejection as her crush left their group, but was soon distracted by Tails pointing ahead and announcing, "Look, guys, that must be the table for the raffle."

The girls trailed their gazes over to a little table covered with a white cloth, erected a few yards away from the speaker. Walking over to it, they looked over the box-like contraption with a label stating, "Give coin – Get ticket," as well as the small sign next to it that read, "Raffle Entry – Feed the box a coin and take your ticket! Three lucky winners will be picked at random to receive an auspicious prize!"

Tails smiled and turned to his friends. "What do you think; should we enter?"

"It doesn't say what the prize is," Amy answered, "but if it's something really good, we don't want to miss out!"

Cream added, "It's only one coin. I think it could be fun!"

"Let's just get one ticket," suggested Tails, retrieving his coin. "That way we don't waste money if we lose, and we can share the prize if we win!"

With sweet smiles, the girls nodded and he slipped the gold disk into the slot in the top of the box. Something briefly whirred inside, then a ticket with the number 12 slid forth from the slit on the front of the box.

Tails took it and they all turned back around to search for a decent spot to set down their picnic supplies. Meanwhile, across the park, Rouge and Shadow arrived, devoid of picnic items but readily scoping out the atmosphere.

The white-haired bat showed mild interest in the venue as they walked farther in, wearing shiny jade studded earrings near the bottom of her large ears. Her partner detested the festivity almost immediately, cringing at the cheery music and disliking the overly-social aspect of a picnic event.

"This is already a waste of time," he sneered, gaining Rouge's attention. "There's nothing here for us."

"It is a little brighter out than I expected," mused the lady, "but there has to be something worthwhile to this holiday. It's not fair to hate it already."

"Hmph. We should have forced Omega to come along – at least then I would've had common ground with someone here."

Officially annoyed by his dour tone, Rouge stopped walking and turned to the hedgehog, causing him to stop, as well. "Alright, Mr. Doom and Gloom, I've about had it with your attitude today. You really woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but try turning it around and not being a complete downer."

He scoffed again, defiant of his teammate's statement, and dragged his crimson eyes away from her in a display of contempt. But the aversion of his gaze brought a mischievous smile to Rouge's face as she saw the chance to get what she wanted.

She pulled a pair of ring-shaped handcuffs from their hiding place, a tool she'd foreseen needing. Swiftly, the clever thief snapped one gold cuff around Shadow's right wrist, directly above his inhibitor ring.

The clinking sound of the clasp attaching drew the lifeform's attention, a mere second before Rouge quickly snapped the other cuff around her own left wrist.

Shock took over his demeanor and he glared at her, raising his voice to ask, "Handcuffs? Are you insane?!"

"If I am, it's because you're driving me crazy," she retorted, accusatory.

Her expression turned back to irritation as Shadow jerked his hand away, making her exclaim in an offended tone when her arm was brought along. She balled her fist and pulled back, locking her gaze to his and speaking sternly while she stood firm. "Don't forget, I can be stubborn, too. You shouldn't test me if you don't want to see it."

The hedgehog's brow furrowed more and his scowl deepened, then he reached behind his back to retrieve his Chaos Emerald – but was shocked again when he realized it was gone.

Rouge smirked, looking devilishly smug and revealing, "No way you're teleporting out of this one, Shad. Don't worry about the emerald, it's safe; I just swiped it and left it at Club Rouge."

"Damn you," Shadow grumbled. "I should've known to keep my guard up around a pickpocket."

"You have to admit I'm good." Her sly intonation was returning, the bat wrapping her cuffed hand gently around his arm. With her other hand, she began teasingly circling an index finger along the outside of his glove. "And since I'm the boss here, if you behave yourself, I won't force you to dance."

"Don't push it," replied the indignant man, who scorned her condescending flirtation by pulling his hand away.

A red and white checkered blanket was being spread out and set down by Tails in a spot with a decent view of the raised platform, where he assumed the raffle winners would be announced. He made sure not to be too near other groups, allowing plenty of space to set down their things.

But when he looked to Amy for help straightening the blanket, he saw she was distracted by something else. The pink hedgehog was gazing off with a curious expression, watching Sonic and Irish having a conversation in the distance.

When the pair broke into raucous laughter, her lips parted and she asked aloud, "What do you think they're talking about over there?"

Tails briefly looked over his shoulder at the chortling hedgehogs, then back to Amy. "They're probably catching up – after all, it's been a while since Sonic's talked to Irish."

"Hm..." wondered the girl, her mind wandering a bit too much for her own good.

Then Cream piped up, her sweet voice saying, "Amy, I think we should set up the food to be ready when Sonic comes back!"

Finally tearing her gaze away from the energetic exchange, Rose smiled down at Cream. "You're right, let's get started."

After the young rabbit grabbed the basket of food from Amy's hands, the other two finished straightening their blanket on the ground. Around the same time, the Blue Blur's empty stomach decided it was time for a meal. He wiped a single tear of laughter from the corner of his eye and grinned at Irish, then stuck out one gloved hand.

"Well, I'd better get back to my group before they miss me too much," he said, shaking the green hedgehog's hand once their palms connected. "It was great seeing you again!"

"Always a pleasure!" replied Irish, who used his free hand to raise the top hat from his head in a polite gesture.

When the speedster made his way to the picnic his friends had set up, he commented, "Man, that Irish is one funny guy! His jokes gave my stomach a workout, and now I'm hankering for a chilidog!"

Amy's eyes lit up at his statement, immediately thrusting her hands into the picnic basket to pull out a plastic box with two chilidogs inside. "Here, Sonic! I brought them just for you."

"Hey, thanks!" He took the box from her hands and sat down in between the pink lady and his fox friend, removing the box's lid while the others dug into their own prepared snacks.

A little while later, the event's festive host hopped up onto the platform that served as a small stage, stepping up to the microphone and clearing his throat before speaking into it.

"Thanks a million to ya all fer showing up to this Lucky Clover Day celebration!" he started, his accented voice reverberating across the park and gaining the guests' attention. "I hope yer all having the craic – just wanted to announce the raffle startin' in t'irty minutes! So, grab a ticket while ya can and have a chance to win one of t'ree glittering prizes!"

He gestured to the three blanketed podiums behind him, taking the microphone off of its stand and walking over to them. With dozens of people's gazes on him, the blue-eyed hedgehog began pulling off the short blankets, revealing the contents underneath as he spoke, "Beautiful as they are: ornamental Chaos Emeralds!"

Sitting in glass boxes atop the podiums were emeralds of powder pink, icy blue, and tea green. They shimmered when the coverings were removed, sun beams bouncing off the pastel colors and giving off the illusion of luminescence. A few people were audibly dazzled by the reveal, including Rouge, who was instantly interested by the gleam of the faux gems.

Irish continued cheerfully, "Now don't get ahead of yourselves! These jewels don't bear the same strength as the authentic emeralds; but their beauty is bewitching, and they're still a touch useful if you're of a powerful sort!"

With stars in her eyes, the treasure-hunting bat snapped her gaze to the raffle ticket table and pulled Shadow in its direction. "Ooh, I've got to get my hands on one of those gorgeous gems!"

Her companion grumbled apathetically as he was forced to follow, and his frustration grew a bit more as he stood next to her while she gleefully paid for a ticket.

The unhappy lifeform had his attention drawn elsewhere when he felt a sharp pinch on his left arm, crimson eyes blazing with agitation as he whipped around to face a nearby guest, yanking his arm back and balling his fists.

The beige panther jumped backwards, a bit startled by Shadow's aggressive reaction, but held a cocky expression while his pinched victim bared teeth and began shouting.

"You've got some nerve putting your hands on me!" He heard the other man snicker, then growled in response, "You think it's funny? You'll be lucky if I don't take you down for provoking me."

Rouge was familiar with the hedgehog's rising hostility and stood holding the balled fist that was trapped with hers, alert and ready to stop him if he tried to fight. But the stranger only antagonized Shadow further, replying obnoxiously, "Jeez, what's your damage? You should've worn green if you didn't want to get pinched!"

"Shadow..." uttered the ivory bat in a warning tone, her teal eyes trailing over to his irate expression.

Before the powerful man could commit to acting on his anger, a young tigress walked up to the panther, firmly planting one hand on his bicep with urgency in her eyes. "Babe, stop picking fights with people! Let's go!"

The rude guest's smirk dropped when his girlfriend flashed a stern look, and he walked away without another word while Shadow held his battle-ready stance and silently seethed. His posture didn't relax when Rouge slipped her free hand onto his right shoulder, squeezing and speaking in a smooth tone.

"It's alright, Shad," she said, trying to soothe the tension – though, she was starting to regret dragging him to the event. "That guy was an asshole. Just let it go... let me see if I won the raffle and then we can leave."

"I told you this was a bad idea." Her dark friend kept his fists clenched, straightening his stance and glaring at her. "Or do you just enjoy the needless discord?"

"Relax..." replied Rouge, dragging out the word and squeezing again. "I didn't know you were going to be this irritable."

"Then take off the damn handcuffs," Shadow hissed, shaking his imprisoned fist and causing her to let go.

His teammate shifted uncomfortably and her expression twisted to one of unease; the suspicion of her large ears lowering a bit made him apprehensive about what she was about to say. She responded, "Well... I can't. Not right now, anyway. I... I left the key back at my place."

Shadow's eye twitched at her confession, and for a moment, the woman feared he would simply start walking out and drag her along to the exit.

He was so still, his stare intense – and she stood in confusion at what he might be thinking, until the black and red hedgehog broke his silence to groan while slapping one palm to his face in frustration.

"Fine..." he spoke, his voice low. With the hand still on his face, he opened one eye to look at her and added, "I'll try to keep it together. But I won't be quick to trust you again after this."

While they talked, Sonic was finishing his meal and gazing around the venue; and when he looked over at the raffle table in the distance, he saw the pair's exchange as Shadow became more aggravated.

He could see them just well enough to recognize the handcuffs shackling them together, chuckling to himself as he deduced that Rouge had forced his rival to attend the Lucky Picnic.

The soft laugh caught Amy's attention, and she asked, "What's funny, Sonic?"

He finished the last bit of his food and pointed casually in Team Dark's direction. "Rouge and Shadow are here. Looks like he's got a bug up his butt, though; she must've convinced him to show up. I might call 'em over!"

The pink lady's eyebrows upturned in an expression of concern as she saw the black and red lifeform facepalm. "Please don't invite them to ruin our picnic... we're having such a nice time."

Sonic's muzzle was plastered with a smirk as he made up his mind to pester his long-time adversary. Feeling the mischievous spirit of the holiday, the speedster brushed off Amy's request and stared in Rouge's direction until she noticed him, then waved and flashed his teeth in a grin that beckoned her to approach. The bat ruminated for a second, then let her selfish nature take over before tugging Shadow towards the group.

"Where are we going now?" he asked when she started walking without a word.

Looking ahead, he noticed Sonic's crew directly in their path and instantly pulled back, saying, "No, Rouge, do not force me to interact with those-"

"I'm not," she interrupted, using all her strength to continue onward. "You can ignore them – I'm going to say hi. I might as well do something while I wait for the raffle to start."

They struggled against each other the whole way, which made everyone but Sonic nervous. Tails looked over at his blue friend with worry and spoke, "Uhh, Sonic? Shadow looks really unhappy..."

Still feeling daring, the green-eyed hedgehog chuckled again and said, "Yeah, he looks pissed. I wonder if anyone else noticed he's not wearing green."

Amy wanted to speak out, as well, but didn't have time before the dastardly pair reached the edge of their blanket. Shadow stood as far from them as he could, his brows deeply furrowed as he looked away; Rouge allowed her cuffed left arm to be pulled in her partner's direction so long as he wasn't fighting her.

Energetically, Sonic jumped up from his spot and exclaimed, "Hey, Rouge! Funny to see you and Shadow here. I really didn't expect you guys to attend an event like this!"

"I'm just here for the raffle," the bat claimed. "Can't miss out on the opportunity to take home a beautiful gemstone."

He nodded, his eyes trailing up to the jade studs adorning her ears. "Nice jewelry – I see only one of you knew to wear green."

In a flurry of motion, three actions occurred at once: Rouge opened her mouth to reply, Sonic bounded over their picnic blanket to land an impish pinch on the Ultimate Lifeform's right arm, and Shadow turned to counter the Blue Blur after hearing his mischievous comment.

In the split second after provoking his rival, Sonic just barely avoided an attack by swerving to the left when Shadow's free hand swung around. Amy yelped at the worrying sight and held onto Cream, ready to pull her away from the action while Tails jumped to his feet.

As the enraged hedgehog's fingers – positioned in the shape of a claw – strained towards the speedster, Sonic quickly slinked behind Rouge and chuckled cheekily while she struggled to hold her friend back.

Wrapping her gloved arms tightly around Shadow's right limb, the jewel hunter pushed her shoulder into his chest and extended her wings to either side, planting both heels firmly into the ground.

"Stop!" she shouted, then glared over her left shoulder at the blue hedgehog. "Sonic, you asshole! Just had to annoy him, didn't you?"

"Yikes," uttered Sonic, his crooked grin remaining as he scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, Rouge, didn't know his fuse was that short!"

The half-assed apology did nothing to stop Shadow from struggling against Rouge's brace, fiery eyes burning with fury at the smug hero. His compatriot raised her free hand and placed it against his furry chest, pushing heavily to move him backwards and raising her voice. "Alright, let's go, this is only getting worse! Stopping by was a bad idea – come on, Shadow!"

The infuriated man relented enough to walk backwards as Rouge pushed him, shouting at Sonic, "You'd better watch your back, coward! Cross my path again and you'll regret it."

Slightly embarrassed at the conflict he'd caused, the speedy prankster turned back to his friends, his awkward smile fading as they all stared with disapproving looks. He walked over to the blanket again and plopped down in his previous spot, saying, "Heh... I'll, uh... I'll just stay here."

While the pair got farther and farther from the group – being watched by nearby guests and the host himself – the stressed bat spoke to Shadow, "Okay, you made your point. You were right about not going over there, happy?"

The hedgehog stopped in his tracks and grabbed Rouge's wrist, halting her and staring a blazing gaze into her teal eyes. "Happy? You've lost it. And I'm losing it, being here. This is your fault, as stubborn as you are to have dragged me here; denied me the right to leave; forcing me to hang around on your time."

His grip tightened and Rouge leaned away, her expression turning shameful. He was right on all accounts, and she had to concede that she'd pushed too much. "Y-Yeah, okay... look, I just want my prize-"

"You don't even know if you'll win," Shadow said sternly, then raised his cuffed hand to position his thumb and index finger closely together. "Rouge, I'm this close to tearing my hair out over something so stupid. And if you make me stay much longer, I'll drag you back to the club, get these fucking cuffs off myself, and disappear for as long as I want."

The intensity in his tone was almost scary, even as he held back from lashing out. Rouge knew she couldn't physically keep him there, and she didn't want him to avoid her entirely due to her self-serving actions; so, it was either lose both the coin she'd given up and the chance at owning another emerald, or let Shadow reach his limit and possibly lose him as a friend.

Just as she was parting her lips to relinquish her material desires, they heard a few solid taps against the microphone that stood atop the wooden platform. Her teammate's red eyes gazed past her towards the green hedgehog preparing to speak, which made the bat turn around to look, as well.

"Attention, all ye lads and lasses: 'tis time to pick the t'ree lucky raffle winners," announced Irish, holding his own top hat filled with numbered strips of paper.

The ivory bat looked back at Shadow, but his eyes didn't move as he let go of her wrist. He stood still while the Clover Day host rummaged around in the hat and pulled out the winning numbers: "6... 14... and 17!"

Rouge's eyes widened and she swiftly pulled the ticket she'd bought from her chest piece, looking down at the number 14 and letting a grin spread before snapping her glittering gaze back to the silent being. Shadow's ruby eyes dragged down to hers; he still seethed a bit on the inside, but he nodded nonetheless, allowing her to retrieve the prize.

Sonic's crew shrugged at the minor loss of not winning one of the emeralds, instead clapping and watching along with the other guests as the lucky ones stepped up to claim their gems. As Irish congratulated them, Rouge lifted the glass box enough to take the icy blue emerald, then turned to Shadow.

"My, isn't it beautiful?" she asked, turning it back and forth to admire the way it reflected light.

She hadn't expected Shadow to rapidly reach for the faux jewel, snatching it from the bat's hand and holding it above his head. "Chaos Control!"

Rouge had just enough time to exclaim and stare in shock before white light surrounded them, blinding the other guests briefly. And in an instant, the bright flash disappeared – along with Shadow and Rouge.

A wave of awed murmurs stammered out from the small crowds, many of them confused while Sonic's group had expected nothing less from the incensed hedgehog.

Tails was the first to speak up about it, addressing his best friend. "You really pushed him this time, Sonic. I'm surprised he didn't leave sooner; handcuffed or not."

The blue man chuckled and leaned back to rest his weight on outstretched arms. "Yeah... I guess I feel a little bad. Sunny days and social crowds really aren't Shadow's thing – I can see how he'd end up being so angry."

"Didn't you have to apologize to Knuckles at the last party we went to?" asked Amy, sitting with both fists against her hips. "Looks like it's becoming a pattern with you."

"Hey, that was different! I just wanted him to have fun." He rolled his eyes and added, "Shadow, though? He's grumpy all the time. Ya can't blame me for that!"

In the downtown area of the city, the powerful lifeform had successfully teleported himself and his companion back to Club Rouge. They appeared in the treasure hunter's loft, where the white shine of the lesser emerald faded into nothingness; Shadow looked at her and tightened his grip around the gem.

"Tell me where the key to these cuffs are, or I'll break the emerald," he spoke, his voice monotone and serious.

Offended by his actions and his tone, Rouge furrowed her brow and replied, "Jeez, you don't have to threaten me! It's in the night stand, top shelf."

She half-heartedly pointed at the small table sitting next to her own bed, and Shadow carelessly tossed the gem into her hands. While he retrieved the key – along with his stolen Chaos Emerald – the annoyed bat disappointedly studied the drained jewel, noting that it no longer shone and now held a dull pastel hue. "Ugh, you tarnished its beautiful glow..."

"Hmph. I'd say that's a price you deserve to pay," Shadow retorted flatly, twisting the small key inside the golden cuff.

The curved prison snapped open and fell from his wrist, followed by the indignant hedgehog placing the key atop the nightstand before leaving Rouge's side.

She stared with an unhappy pout as he dropped his body lazily onto the spare mattress at the other side of the small room, closing his eyes and lying with his hands behind his head.

But even as she felt dismayed by the effacement of her prize, the disheartened woman didn't desire to argue or kick him out, instead allowing Shadow to rest as he wished.

[strangersteddierthings]

Some random numbers: 3, 10 & 29 (for the fanfic writer ask lol)

Ahh! Thanks for sending an ask! :D

3. What's your favorite fic that you've written? My personal favorite is The One Where Steve Plays D&D. I love the Stobin banter in it and I want Steve to love D&D because I love D&D.

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? My first fic, Bad News First, Eddie. It was just something I wrote on my lunch break at work in less than an hour. And then the Steddie tag just took it and RAN. I cried about it to my bestie it was so overwhelming.

29. Share a bit from a fic you'll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. Here's everything I wrote for the original draft I had for the Steve has good parents and goes to therapy fic before scrapping it and redoing it from Steve's POV:

Robin worries about Steve. She's not sure there is anything Steve could tell her to make her not worry other than 'I don't need to talk about anything because I already do that weekly with my therapist' and that's not going to happen.

Hell, they all need therapy, but Max was, like, actively going to see the school's councilor and she still ended up cursed and almost dead because of her trauma (Robin tries not to think about the others who were also seeing Ms Kelley and got cursed). And sure, you could argue that Max was not actually forthcoming with her issues and therefore couldn't work on resolving them, but that's a po-tay-to, po-tah-to kinda problem, really.

So yes, Robin's sure they all need therapy, but she's mostly focused on Steve right now because he's become their therapist. He's the one everyone talks to about what they're feeling or not feeling, the one who always picks up the phone, answers the walkie talkie when someone doesn't want to be alone. He's fixed up the other rooms in his big empty house with guest beds so they can all have their nightmares loudly away from their parents.

And it's not that they've all left Steve to fend for himself in this. Robin asks him all the time if he's okay, how he's doing, does he want to talk? But Steve doesn't. He's always ok. He's always doin' 'just fine' or 'as well as he can be, all things considered'. He- well, he does talk. But not nearly as much as he should be. Just a confirmation that he understands what they're dealing with because he is, too.

Except, as far as Robin can tell, he's not dealing with any of it, at all.

She says as much to Nancy one night. It's mid-summer, and the Pool Party Slash BBQ Turned Slumber Party is winding down. Nancy and Robin are in the house, sitting on a couch that looks out the back windows, watching as Steve tries to hurl Dustin into the pool, but he's an octopus clinging to Steve's arm, and Steve reaches out to latch onto Eddie for support, and all three end of splashing into the pool.

"Steve's real good at just... being okay after Upside Down bullshit happens, isn't he?" Robin asks, going to conversational.

"Yeah," Nancy says, shifting on her cushion to pull one leg underneath her as she turns her body more towards Robin, "I was honestly surprised how quickly he's bounced back after the second time. We were all a little fucked up from it -we'd never imagine a world where it could happen once, much less twice- but Steve seemed to recover quicker. Didn't even seem changed from what happened. Just... back to school as usual."

"What was it like the first time?"

"Surreal. I think we were all able to fake it enough at school because it still didn't seem real. Monsters? Real monsters in Hawkins? We had no choice but to fake it until it seemed less real. Who would have believed us? Plus, Steve and I were still together then. We had each other to break apart with."

Robin nods, looking from Nancy to back out the window, "Steve was so normal after Starcourt that I thought I was just weak."

Nancy let's out a surprised 'Oh' at that confession, but stays silent as Robin continues.

"He was ready to start job hunting together again. Wanted us to get a job together. I had a breakdown about it, in the upstairs bathroom. Steve sat on the floor and hugged me through it as I cried about how weak I must seem to him. He told me I wasn't weak, that what I was feeling was completely normal. Rational," she laughs at the memory, "he sounded like an actual therapist. Wanted me to talk through what I was feeling. Also asked me what I wanted to be feeling, and things I thought would help me feel that way."

Nancy doesn't look as surprised as Robin thought she might. But also, Nancy's probably had the same kind of talk with Steve. Where he listens, and will share in the emotions, but won't open up about his own deep feelings, thoughts, or fears. "Steve's always been tough."

"Sure, but he doesn't have to be with us," Robin argues, "it's not going to be good for him in the long run to never talk about it. How's it's effecting him, you know?"

"We can't make him talk about it," Nancy says.

"Well, we can try," Robin says, "we could... could bully him gently into talking! If we just get everyone to ask him, repeatedly, maybe he'll finally break and talk!"

[dimoverdelerium]

Tagged by @emlemony

Put your on repeat playlist on shuffle and list 10 songs, then tag 10 people (not sure if that part will work out, I don't actually know many people on here).

This should be interesting.

This one is the fault of me shopping around for something to sing for a musical theatre review I was in a few weeks ago. Didn't end up going with this one as it's a lot of words to learn, but then I remembered this whole show existed so there you are.

Back in first year of my undergrad I made friends with a guy solely on the basis of me being the only person he'd ever met his own age who had listened to any TMBG. He made me listen to this album next and this track was on repeat for months.

I really fucking liked Jenny from Thebes, and while this song isn't AS good out of context the saxophone at the beginning makes me feel things even without the buildup of the rest of the album.

A guy I was seeing a while ago was really into Joywave and this song found its way onto my happy playlist.

This one's on my trans feels playlist for reasons.

The buildup of this song is pure unadulterated serotonin. What more could you possibly ask for.

This is the only Tom Lehrer song that my dad knows and likes. Apparently him and a friend performed it in full nun outfits at a school event when he was a teenager, and sometimes I listen to it and just imagine what that might have looked like. You have to assume chaos.

Not sure why this is the song off Big Science that showed up on the repeat playlist, because I've been listening to the whole thing a lot recently. Every now and then the Laurie Anderson mood strikes me and I listen almost exclusively to her for months.

Pretty sure this was the Weather on an old episode of Welcome to Night Vale or something. Not sure how it ended up on the happy playlist but it is joyful as hell.

I like Yes.

Anyway for the tagging thing .... @friendly-neighborhood-gendervoid @homoqueerjewhobbit @thesevendeadlygenders @bunnysquared @sacrastic-fantastic I guess, no pressure though.