#trying to come up with tags reminds me of how much i need to dig into other bands

[poodlejoonas]

Bitches be like “this is my comfort video” and it’s five minutes of some dude in a band saying goofy shit during interviews

[dark-fics-4-you]

possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈

Golden Boy

Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,

You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”

The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.

It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.

Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.

You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.

“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.

“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.

Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”

You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”

Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.

After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.

You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.

“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.

By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.

“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.

Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.

“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.

“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.

Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!

At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?

As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.

Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”

You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.

“You told me to-”

“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.

“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”

“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.

You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.

The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”

“Rafe no, I-”

You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.

“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.

Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.

“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.

“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.

You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.

“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”

His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.

“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.

His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.

Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.

You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.

Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.

And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.

“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”

[deathblacksmoke]

call me when you get the chance

pairing: noah sebastian x nick ruffilo x fem reader

cw: polyamorous relationship, long distance yearning, it’s pretty fluffy my friends

taglist: @concretenoah / @ladyveronikawrites / @lma1986 / @monotoniscreaming / @xxrainstorm / @agravemisstake

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future fics!

author’s note: thank you lady v once again for the beta; i added some pitt back in just for you. and thank you @darksigns-exe for the poly boyfriends brainworms. no smut in here - wild change of pace. and i’ll probably be writing more little bits of these sweet babes at some point 🤍 i got euclid on the brain so title from that, obvi. enjoy!

**************************************************************

Nick sends a postcard from every city.

Missing you from Atlanta! Love, Nicholas.

It makes you feel warm and loved, every time you open your mailbox to another card from another city, with your partner’s pretty writing on the back.

You imagine him standing in the store for ages, sifting through the cards, trying to pick the perfect one for your gallery wall. You imagine Noah picking one out as a joke, and Nick scoffing, putting it back irritated.

No, man, she’s particular about her wall. Remember?

It makes your chest swell. You long to be there, to play mediator like you do when they’re both home with you. They need it sometimes, and you’re sure Jolly could use the break every now and again.

Noah sends memes. They’re ones you would never see otherwise because you won’t step foot on Twitter, but they make you smile and remind you of him, his stupid sense of humor, and the way his face lights up when he laughs. You close your eyes and imagine it, his eyes scrunching closed with his laugh, and your chest tightens.

They always send a selfie when they get off stage, and another before bed, sometimes a FaceTime if you’re still up. They don’t show you their intertwined hands. They know it makes you jealous and weepy, but you’re so grateful that they have each other. You imagine them kissing when the call ends and you cry anyway.

***

When you couldn’t make it to the show you had all planned for, you thought that was it. Work gets in the way again, sends you out of town, but you’ll see them when they come home to you and all will be okay.

The show looks incredible. You brave social media just this once to see clips of your boys, weep in bed in your hotel room. You stay up late to see them before you sleep—they tell you they wish you were there, they miss you, they love you. You catch a glimpse of a love bite on Nick’s chest and wish it could have come from you. You fantasize about quitting your job. You get closer every day.

The postcard comes two days later, a pop-art rendition of the Pittsburgh skyline, Nick’s little note scrawled across the back. It feels silly to have but you knew he wouldn’t dare to break the tradition he’s created.

Wish you were here! Love always, your Nicholas.

You don’t know how much longer you can go without them, holding back tears as you put the card in its frame, giving it its place on the wall.

You feel helpless and hopeless until you get an email, the airline notifications you had set up on cost changes doing you a solid, for once. Flight to LAX, suspiciously affordable, landing at 2 PM on the 8th of October.

It’s not a question. You don’t think twice. You have the PTO, and your boss can’t possibly deny you again. And if they do, fuck it, you’ll really dig your heels in about them needing another girl working on the tour. You’ll get Lana on your side this time around. They can’t say no to you both.

You book the ticket, arrange a guest list spot with Matt and buzz with excitement in preparation for your surprise.

***

You never tire of watching them perform.

The way Noah owns the stage, running from stage left to stage right, commanding the crowd to chant and jump with him. Nicholas, his long hair swaying with each rock of his neck to the beat of the song. His slender fingers grip the neck of his bass as he bounces his leg, growling backing vocals going straight through you. You wish you could be at every show. You swell with pride and know you couldn’t have picked two better boys to share your life.

You head to the green room when they come back out to say their thank yous and goodbyes. You hate to miss the photo slides but you helped pick most of the photos, anyway. Lots from your private collection and you think maybe you owe some of these people a “you’re welcome.”

Sitting on the old, worn leather couch, you start to panic. You’ve never surprised them before. Noah hates surprises, but you hope at least you’re a good one.

Folio comes through the door first, followed by Jolly, and the door swings back closed. Shocked at first when they see you, Folio’s face breaks out into a huge grin before turning on his heels.

“Yo, Noah, you’re gonna wanna see this—” he yells as he swings the door back open, to reveal Nick, sweaty and looking exhausted, but when his eyes land on you—

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

You can barely make it out above the roar of noise in the hallway. You don’t know where Noah is, but Nick looks as gorgeous as you’ve ever seen him. You need to take a deep breath but find your throat stopping you as your vision starts to blur. The look on his face as he crosses the room to you melts your anxiety in an instant. You haven’t seen him in so long. And he’s here. He’s right here with you.

When he reaches you, he sinks to his knees at your feet. His fingers digging into your thigh, eyes glazed over as he looks up at you, you lean down to meet him halfway.

The feeling of his lips on yours makes you feel dizzy. The feel of the wetness on his cheeks when you cup his face makes you want to sob, but you don’t, you lick into his mouth and bask in the sound of his gasp.

“Where the fuck were you,” he speaks into your mouth when he pulls away from you.

His fingers are gripping your thigh painfully. You know you’ll bruise, you wince, but it’s Nick and you don’t care. You’ll press your fingers there when you get home and you’ll think of him and—

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was flirting with the pretty bartender. I think you’d like her, Nicky, do you think Noah will go for a fourth?”

He’s leaning in for another kiss when you hear the green room door slam back open, thundering steps getting closer and closer until Nick is jostled forward, Noah’s head resting on his shoulder, eyes focused on you.

“You were a very naughty girl, keeping this secret from us,” Noah says, his head angling to press kisses and nip at Nick’s neck. Nick grins and you watch as the hand that was digging into your thigh takes Noah’s hand and laces their fingers.

When you’re far away, it makes you jealous. When you’re right here, when you have them both in front of you, that’s the furthest thing from your mind.

When you kiss Noah and he smiles into it, when the hand not laced with Nick’s threads through your hair, when Nick nips at your neck while Noah kisses you, you’ve never felt more at home.

Because they are your home.

“Nicky let me pick your postcard this time,” Noah tells you when he pulls away.

“You’ll hate it,” Nick says, but he’s grinning as he stands up to rummage through his backpack.

When he returns to you and holds it out, it’s a silly little card, but both their names are signed this time.

Loving you from LA. Love, your Nicholas and Noah.

Noah’s grinning as wide as you’ve ever seen. It’s your favorite of the bunch.

[notroosterbradshaw]

hi! i'd like to ask a drabble with rooster with dialogue 6 "If we get caught kissing in a small, dark, kind of shady alleyway, it's on you."

thanks x

6. "If we get caught kissing in a small, dark, kind of shady alleyway, it's on you."

From Meaningful Gestures Prompts. Let’s go! You know who you’re getting, my sweet Erica x

"Bradley, no," you hissed gently as his warm hand started to guide you towards the dark. A hot summer night after a few drinks at The Hard Deck rendered you both unable to drive home and he whispered it might be nice for you both to walk home together.

He'd gallantly taken your hand, linking your fingers together, still trying to find the way your fingers fit together and learning how to make what was good for one better with two. You loved that little dance while your hands tried to find that perfect place against his strong calloused palms.

"If we get caught kissing in a small, dark, kind of shady alleyway, it's on you," you protested as he chuckled.

"I am more than willing to take the heat. Come on, sweetheart," Bradley muttered, as he checked over his shoulder, the alleyway was dark and if you'd admit it, a little intimidating at this time of night. The dirty smirk on his lips as he licked them in preparation for tasting you. His strong hands held your ribs, those playful thumbs drifting dangerously close to the underwire of your bra as he edged you back to the brick wall behind you, his strong thigh guiding you and pressing between your legs, pining you exactly where he needed you. "It's okay, baby, you're safe with me," he reminded you, reading the insecurity on your face.

And you couldn't help it, you willingly fell into the kiss because it was Bradley Bradshaw and he could pretty much make you do anything he asked. He had that power; not that he used it often but he knew he could push you from your comfort zone and make you feel like you were invincible. Never in your wildest dreams would anyone else take you on a whim, push you up against a grubby old wall in the middle of the night and figuratively take your breath away.

But that was what Bradley could do.

You couldn't resist as you laced your fingers to his neat curls, digging your nails into the tender skin of his scalp and enjoying his moans against your mouth as his delicate tongue danced with yours - you gave him kudos for his patience. He was an excitable kisser, a means to an end: the bed. Sometimes you thought it was just a means to an end for him. Something to tide him over until you both lost your clothes and lost yourselves together.

"God, I love kissing you," he breathed, his breath hot against your cheek, his lips nipping to your earlobe and his tongue swirling against the tender flesh, unprepared as his gleaming teeth sunk into it. "I love finding what makes you melt..."

But Bradley would soon learn there wasn't much your body didn't respond to and tonight, your Bradley was taking his time. Raising your heart rate with his wandering hands, stealing all the breath in your body with his kiss and claiming it as his own. You pressed your body against him, needing the friction of his body heat. Desperate and needy. In a goddamn alleyway in some grubby street.

"Eager little thing," he murmured, his lips leaving you and his strong nose dragging against your jaw before his sharp teeth latched into your pulse and your knees wobbled. He huffed a laugh as his hands gripped you tighter. "I've got you, baby. I would never let you fall."

Too late, you realised. You were desperately, pathetically, shamelessly in love with Bradley Bradshaw and you weren't sure how you were going to make it out of this with your heart intact.

SEND ME A PROMPT, I’LL WRITE YOU A DRABBLE [closed]

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[moremousewrites]

To be Understood

Pairing: Minthara/ Tav (femme drow)

Summary: Being a drow, you found companionship with Minthara. Though your other companions found some of her characteristics offputting (and yours too, frankly) you could always relate to each other.

Tags: kissing, blood mention, nudity, comfort, fluff

Word count: 975

At camp, you and Minthara would usually eat meals together. You'd talk about the day's events to process information and unwind and speak your mother tongue.

You'd get unsettled looks from your companions when you spoke in high drow or signed drow on the battlefield. You weren't trying to exclude anyone, it just felt nice to be understood without having to process what you were saying. At first, they thought you were conspiring against them, it was just idle chatter. Having spent so much time in the open, it was important to have something quiet and private you could share.

You were on the outskirts of Baldur's gate, eating some of Gale's cooking. You brought a bowl to Minthara and sat next to her by the fire. 

[What is it tonight? More fish heads?] She grimaced at the bowl, unpleased by the contents. 

[Not tonight. It looks to be sausage stew. You should be grateful we're not drinking wine for dinner again] you nudged her with your shoulder and began digging in. Gale's cooking was very resourceful. You were just not always fortunate to bring enough supplies to camp for a feast.

Minthara chewed a lump of meat and stared into the fire. [I need wine to wash this down. Or perhaps forget I ever tasted this. One more meal like this and we eat the wizard] she complained. You loved her attitude, it reminded you of your childhood friends. 

“Minthara, Tav, I trust you're enjoying your meal from the pleased sounds I'm hearing” Gale interrupted, making his way opposite of you.

Minthara held a stiff, unsettling half-smile. It was supposed to be reassuring. You stifled your laughter as best you could to encourage her socialization. She was trying her best. A little too hard.

“It's great, thank you, Gale” you confirmed. 

Minthara looked to you. [Why did you laugh? Is the stew poisoned?] She asked, completely serious. For your sake or hers, you weren't really certain. 

[No! I didn't mean to laugh, sorry. You just don't need to act like them. You can be yourself] you explained.

Minthara became noticeably offended. [I would not ever aspire to have a commonality with these people. I act as myself, only] she snapped at you. You nodded, seeing how you upset her. 

[I know. I only meant they would accept you as yourself. They aren't going to change you] you assured her. Minthara relaxed somewhat. After being manipulated by the Absolute, she was glad to be accepted as herself. 

She was often on guard around you. Around everyone, really, but she treated you like an equal. But being an equal in her eyes meant you were a threat. You understood because it was how you were raised. If your life hadn't changed in your youth, if your choices were made for you, you might've been in Minthara's position right now. It was because of your upbringing that you were so empathetic to her. She despised your allegiance to the Seldarine. You tried to avoid the subject. Though converting her was a nice, selfish fantasy, it would have to stay a fantasy. 

You looked up from your bowl to her, she was staring at you. [What?] You looked around you and saw no threat. 

[You're filthy] she observed.

You looked back at her. [Excuse me?] You allowed yourself offense. You'd been sleeping in mud for days of course you were filthy.

Minthara reached into your hair and felt at a mat you'd been ignoring for a while. [Pathetic girl. You're a poor representation for our race. Thank the dark mother you're no longer sworn. You would not be worthy in this state] she put down her bowl and stood up, offering her hand to you. [Come. I will bathe you since you are incompetent] she ordered. 

You put down your bowl and took her hand, begrudgingly. [I can wash myself. I've received the message, thank you] you rolled your eyes at her but left to grab a wash basin from your tent.

Your companions watched in confusion as you and Minthara walked away to fill a tub with water.

Minthara had you walk to a water pump and strip naked in the middle of the night. Stranger things had happened. 

You let her scrub your limbs raw, rubbing them mercilessly with the sponge. When you hissed at the pain she smacked your thigh for talking back. 

[Spoiled girl has everything done for her. Can't even comb her own hair. Did you have a handmaiden comb your hair? Were you the only daughter of your house?] Minthara ran water over your head, washing the blood and dirt from your hair.

[Yes Minthara, I was very rich and powerful and noble] you felt a comb tugging at the knots in your hair. She took her time, starting from the ends and making her way to the thicker knots. You sat patiently on the grass as she worked through your hair, making a point not to hurt you. When you shivered, she wrapped a towel around you. When the comb finally slipped through your hair without resistance, you were completely dry. Minthara tied your hair in a braid and placed it on your shoulder. She left her hand on your back, as if she were waiting for something. 

[Thank you. I needed that] you said, comforted by her touch. 

[I don't doubt that you were privileged. I would have liked to spoil you. Had you been my lover in Menzoberranzan, we'd have been indomitable] she said, oddly… nervous. You realized she was confessing to you. 

[We still could be. Perhaps not in Menzoberranzan, but here and now] you went to look at her and she pulled you into a kiss. Minthara held the kiss as long as you let her. It felt nice to be in her arms. To be understood.

[thecuriousquest]

Yandere Levi x cadet reader who keeps sneaking out

Midnight Walks

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, bondage, branding, blood, hitting reader unconscious, slapping, knife play, Master/Pet play, power dynamic abuse

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

You like your midnight walks. They are your favorite part of life. You like to watch how the pale moon shines in the night sky, surrounded by billions of little stars. You like to bask in the cool breeze as well.

However, there’s one very strict person who does not like you taking midnight walks, and that person is your very short squadron leader, Captain Levi Ackerman.

You bite your lip with worry, wondering if you’ll be able to get past him on your way back to your quarters. It’s always risky, but you have to try. This is your only sense of normalcy in all of the chaos these days.

Walking back to the building, you see Levi standing outside with his arms crossed. “On another midnight stroll again, Cadet L/N?”

“Yes, sir. I really just needed to get out. I wasn’t gone for that long.”

He raises a hand to silence you.

“Shut up. I’m tired of hearing the same thing every damn night, cadet. You’re coming with me. Now. It’s about time I stop this bad habit of yours once and for all.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck, marching you up to his office. He kicks the door shut with his boot and locks it behind the two of you.

“I’ve debated how to punish you for this disobedience for a while now, and I think I’ve settled on just the right way to go about it. You see, I think you’re not listening to me because you think you can just disregard my orders.”

“No, Captain, that’s not it!”

“I told you to shut up, brat. I’ve had enough of you going out and acting like you can just do whatever the hell you want.”

He takes a sharp dagger out of a holster on his hip.

“Since you think you can just disobey my orders, I’ll have to remind you of who it is you’re dealing with.”

Standing in front of you, Levi pushes you down on the couch in his office. You fight against him, trying to get the upper hand, attempting to squirm out of his hold.

He’s not happy about how much of a struggle you’re putting up, so he does the only thing he can think of. He knocks you out with the hilt of his blade.

———

When you wake up, your head is throbbing, and your muscles feel stiff. As you snap back to reality, you notice that your shirt has been taken off and you’re tied up with scratchy rope.

“Finally awake? Good, that means we can begin your punishment, cadet.”

“No. No, no, no, please, Levi, don’t! Whatever you’re about to do, please, don’t do it?”

“It’s too late for that, brat. You’re such a shitty listener, so I’ll fucking remind you of who’s in charge.”

He caresses the curve of your waist with the edge of his dagger. “I’ve always wondered what my name would look like if it were carved into you. Let’s see.”

You feel two sharp lines dig into your hip, creating an L. It hurts more than you would have imagined. Blood spills from the wound, and you can barely contain your shriek of fear for he begins to draw the letter E.

“Captain, it hurts! I’m sorry I didn’t listen! Stop, oh fuck, please, stop it!”

“Well, it’s too late to stop now. You can hold out for two more letters.”

With that said, he carves the V of his name into your hip.

More blood is spilled, and he finds himself slowly working the last line of the V into your skin. He wants to draw out your pain, wants to make you really think about who owns you.

If you know who owns you, then you’re sure to know better than to disobey his orders.

Slower than any of the other letters, an I makes a home next to the V. LEVI is now carved in your hip, dripping with crimson. Unable to hide your tear stricken face in your hands, you turn your face into the floor and sob.

How could your captain do such a monstrous thing to you?!

“Hey, fucking brat, look at your master.”

When you don’t show any signs of obeying, he grabs your hair in a tight fist and forces you to look up at him.

“Your owner’s name is carved into you now. Hopefully, the message fucking sinks in. Never disobey your master, shitty fucking pet. The next time you don’t listen to me, I’ll make your punishment ten times worse than this. I’ll carve my name on your fucking forehead if I have to. Understand?”

Fear strikes you like a tiger’s paw right through your very soul. You can’t process this correctly. Is this really happening, or are you still conked out from when he hit you on the head?

His palm connects with your cheek, and you feel as though you’ve just been stung by fifty bees. If it wasn’t for the hold Levi has on your locks, you would have fallen to the ground.

“Do you understand me.”

“Yes, Captain.”

He chuckles darkly, his laugh a mock to your current position. “No, you’ll call me ‘Master’ now.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, your voice cracks in trepidation as you say, “Yes, Master, I understand.”

“Good pet. It seems you can learn.” He uses his knife to release you from your binds.

You pick up your shirt from off of the floor, tucking yourself inside of it to shield you from Levi’s gaze.

“Get out of my office and get to bed, cadet. You’re on kitchen and stable duty for the next two weeks.”

You scurry out of his office like a wounded animal. Hurrying down to hall with your shirt kept closed in your clutch, you make your way out of the hallway and head for your room.

Throwing yourself down on your bed, you sob yourself to sleep, still in utter disbelief about all that just happened.

[damn-stark]

Before dawn

Takes place in-between chapter 1 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

Requested by @sunnybunnyy2 “please please please if you haven't already can you please write about the fight Joel and reader had and why he left her? And or; more about tommy, Maria and readers relationship before she left? It's my favourite the last of us fanfic and I need to know what happened. I am living for all of your stories<3”

A/N- SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG, I JUST NEEDED TO GET IN THE MINDSET FOR THIS SERIES AGAIN, AND I ALSO HAD OTHER FICS THAT NEEDED TO BE WRITTEN, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT THOUGH :)

Warning- ANGST, fluff, talks of death and suicidal thoughts, swearing, long chapter, fluff :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

How long has it been now? 18 years since the outbreak happened? Since…Sarah died? Time just blends together now since it’s been so long. What you are sure of though is that it all feels like a lifetime ago.

What you’d give to go back, to see your sister again, to be with your dad and be a family. That’s your birthday wish this year, for the big 22, to go back in time. Or at least to have five more minutes there, in that bubble that was your life before the outbreak destroyed it.

Then again…why should you wish for such a thing? You haven’t even seen your dad in…8 years?

Yeah, it’s been 8 years now since you’ve seen him, since you’ve spoken to him. You’ve heard about him through your uncle Tommy since they keep in touch over some radio. Which isn’t the same thing, you know, but that’s the best either of you have done.

Sarah would be disappointed. But it’s not like you’re at fault for it! He left! He left you. You just—

“What are you doing?” A voice breaks you from your train of thought.

“Hm?” You hum and drift your gaze to the side, spotting Maria looking at you in confusion.

You look down at the dishes you’re washing and then look at her. “Washin’ dishes?”

Maria’s eyebrows furrow slightly before she just begins to shoo you away. “Come on, move over. Today is the only day you’re excused from your chores, remember?”

Oh right, birthday pass. There’s too much running in your mind to remember.

“You okay?” She asks as you step aside to let her take over.

She knows you well, she’s known how to read you since the moment you met. It’s touching, but kinda weird too.

She’s too observant.

“Yeah,” you lie. “Yeah.” You nod.

Maria’s eyes narrow on you, they dig in you. You can feel the burning sensation, so you just avert your gaze and turn to lean back against the kitchen counter.

“Grease,” you blurt. “I want to watch Grease tonight.”

Maria keeps studying you, but she doesn’t choose to press you, she looks at the dishes and nods slowly. “Okay. And hey, I still have some of that nail polish. We can do each other's nails while we watch the movie.”

You smile at the ground and nod eagerly. “Yeah, that sounds fun. I’ll go get it and start the movie.” You push yourself away and hurry on to do what you said while you think. You try not to, you really try not to think, but it’s impossible now, it’s hard not to think about memories on your birthday.

Sarah used to paint your nails, you tried to paint hers but she always got annoyed that you painted around her nails, so instead your dad let you paint his toenails. Not his fingernails because you didn’t want his friends at work to laugh at him, you were considerate that way.

Your birthdays used to be your favorite, even after the outbreak. It was never big, especially not after, but they tried and you loved it every time. After your fourteenth birthday though, your birthdays were a reminder of what you couldn't have, of what you lost. You’ve tried, there’s been some happy birthdays since you got to Jackson, but this year has been especially hard.

There’s moments where you just wish this was your last.

“…so I told her just to get out of my face,” Maria’s story intrigues you.

You smile softly up at her. “Just like I said?” You tease.

Maria looks up from your nail and nods. “Yeah. Just like you told me.”

You giggle and sit back, you try to just bask in the joy she feels, in the joy you see on your uncle Tommy’s face.

“Sunny, come take my shoes off,” your uncle Tommy says as he puts his boots up on the coffee table.

You scrunch your nose in disgust and scoff. “As if. Do it yourself, chump.”

Your uncle chuckles. “Maria, Sunny here was the nicest girl. The times I’d go visit after work she’d coming runnin’ to greet us. She’d take our shoes off and bring me my beer.”

Maria laughs, and you snort. “Austin can bring you your beer,” you talk about your dog. “Atlas and I trained him to do it.” You smirk proudly.

Your uncle shrugs. “Yeah, well it ain’t the same.”

You roll your eyes and sit back with your right hand still in Maria’s grasp. “Well, you’re gonna have to get a maid then. ‘Cause Maria ain’t doing it either.”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “Because he takes my shoes off.”

You giggle and peer back. “Whipped.” You make the sound effect, and your uncle quickly grabs the pillow off the couch and hurls it at your head.

When it hits you though, it makes you move so Maria gets annoyed. “I just messed up. Thanks a lot.”

“Sorry,” you whisper even if you weren’t at fault.

You then proceed to drift your eyes to the tv to watch the movie that was playing, but neither of you were actually paying attention to due to the small conversations you’re holding.

Well they’re doing most of the talking, you're just listening. And unknowingly showing the emotions you’ve been trying to hide from the both of them.

“Are you okay?” Maria asks.

You blink and slowly meet her gaze. “Hm?” You probe with feigned confusion.

Maria briefly meets your gaze before grabbing your other hand to paint your other hand. “I’ve noticed you’ve been quiet, and you’ve been looking down.”

Shit. Shit.

Your uncle Tommy is waiting for an answer now too. You can feel his stare.

“I…”

It’s not like you can just burst out with everything you’ve been feeling recently—No, everything that’s been building up for the past couple of years. One, you don’t want to ruin today, and two, you hardly know what it is you’re feeling. It’s all so confusing, so unlike you. Angry? Sad? Lost?

“I’m okay,” you assure her and offer her a soft smile so she won’t poke further. “Just, you know, birthday blues over the fact I’m getting a year older. I wish I could look young forever.”

“Such a travesty,” your uncle teases.

“Blah,” you stick your tongue out.

“Hm,” Maria hums unsurely, but just leaves you be again. “Okay.”

You muster a wider smile to show it to her, to assure her even if you do wish for some sort of comfort, for someone to tell you that you’re actually fine. That nothings wrong with you. But you can’t worry them today, so you just watch the movie, and when Maria finishes painting your nails you move on to hers.

Once your nails are painted all nice and look all manicured, you finally pay attention to the movie along with your little family. Maria lays against your uncle, and you lay your head on Maria’s lap and let her caress the side of your head.

It’s a simple moment. Something that maybe you should grow out of, but you can’t help it, you like your little family; Maria, your uncle Tommy, and you. You’re content with them, you like being coddled by them even at 22. It lets you feel safe, something you failed to feel sometimes in your life due to your circumstances.

So…what is it that’s bugging you? That has you so…raveled?

Maybe going to your meadow and laying under the stars will help? Bring some ease to your aching heart?

Thus when the movie is over, after the clock strikes 12 am and brings a new day and ends your birthday, you return home. Rather than walking inside through the front door, you instead walk past the gate and head straight to your meadow in your backyard.

It’s been raining for the best couple of days, and you’ve also been busy so you haven’t had time to come and just find joy in your precious meadow you made for Sarah. Not until tonight.

Yet when you step past the porch fence, when you take a step in the meadow, there’s no flowers decorating the green pasture. Not even the winter wildflowers live, the meadow is dull…For the first time since you began to grow this meadow, it’s empty.

The stars…

You look up, but the sky is clouded, no stars gleam in the sky. The only source of light comes from the porch light. But the sky is dark and grey, dull like the once vivid meadow. And so the relief you came in search for, the joy you ached to find here is nothing but a dream, the very memory of your sister that rested on those very flowers is gone, like her.

There’s nothing here. There’s nothing here for you. Yes, you do find happiness in the little things, in your family that lives here, your friends, your plays you produce and star in, the other people that live here, this town in general, but what do you have to live for?

There’s nothing here. It’s dark, the only light is dim and it’s you, everything else is basked in darkness. You search for more source of light, something to bask the gap in your heart that was once full and complete because of your dad, but when he left, everyday, little by little that gap slowly lost its light. Now you’re alone, dimming away.

So maybe it’s time to go. You’ve been thinking about it, planning it now for a while—it will be a country wide trip. You’ve commented about it to other people and they want to go too.

Will you come back though?

It’s okay if you find your end somewhere out there.

——

*8 YEARS BACK. OUTSIDE BOSTON.*

“Oh!” You exclaim happily, and don’t fret to leave your source of light behind on debris to carefully fit through a gap left between slabs of cement debris.

“Hey! Y/N, what the hell are you doin?” Your uncle Tommy shouts after you.

“I found somethin’ inside, shine your light!” You yell back without bothering to further explain yourself, plus, it’s a closed off room with the only way in and out through the gap you just climbed through. There’s no infected so nothing to worry about.

Your dad will still be pissed though. If he finds out…

Which he will! Your uncle Tommy is a snitch!

“Did you check your surroundings at least,” your uncle has no choice but to just say now.

“Yep,” you groan.

After a few more seconds of hearing little rocks roll down the slabs of cement, after squeezing yourself through a small gap only you fit through, you finally make it out and land in the little break room that was once part of some kind of store.

“I made it,” you comment through the gap.

Finally your uncle does what you had asked and shines his flashlight through the gap, managing to blind you in that instant.

“Just hurry on up,” he counters back, annoyed. “We’re gonna be leavin’ soon.”

You hum in agreement and turn around to face the little corner that was left open.

There isn’t much to search through, but you still start at the top right cabinet.

Albeit there’s nothing. Next; open box of expired crackers, mugs, and more open bags of expired dry food. Great.

Next—haha! Jackpot! Instant coffee!

“Look!” You shout and spin around to show off your sweet find. “It’s coffee!”

“Oh? Really? Closed?” Your uncle asks.

You drop your gaze and double check that it’s still sealed. That there’s no mold or icky stuff.

“Yes! It’s safe!” You squeal, and then slide a backpack strap off your shoulder to stuff the coffee container in your pack. “My dad will love it! Maybe we still have time to boil some.” You throw out happily.

This time your uncle hesitates to answer, so you look up and question his silence. “You hear me?”

You can’t see his face because the light blocks his face, but he hesitates again before simply humming in agreement.

Weird, but you don’t question it. You just continue to search, and end up finding sealed granola bars, and some useful utensils other people glossed over. It’s too bad you can’t search the rest of the store since it’s all crumbled. There probably would’ve been some cool things.

At least you found coffee though.

Which is why you leave the little corner break room and climb back out. Once you’re near the exit your uncle Tommy helps you back up to stable ground.

“Found some granola,” you let him know and hand him one bar. “See, it was worth it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Come on. We’ve been gone longer than we should have already.”

Hopefully your dad won’t be upset, you woke up earlier than he did because your uncle invited you to patrol with him, which he hardly ever does, so your dad didn’t see you leave.

He tends to get mad over little things like this, but you don’t mind much, he just gets worried. Plus today you have coffee for him. It’s his favorite.

“Sunny,” your uncle interjects after staying quiet the entire way back to your camp. “Can I tell you something before we get to camp?”

You brush him off due to your excitement to get the coffee to your dad. “Tell me later, I want to give my dad what I found.” And since camp is right ahead, and your surroundings are clear, you make a run for it back to camp.

The few people that are traveling with you from the Boston Quarantine zone bid you a goodmorning, and you happily greet them back with a gleeful smile, whilst you also search for your dad amongst them.

However, he’s not amongst the crowd. Maybe he’s still resting. So you don’t lose a pep in your step and head to where you last saw him resting.

Nevertheless, when you get to where he had been sleeping, he’s not there, nor is his sleeping bag, or his stuff. Weird…

Maybe he’s just walking around.

Now you slow down and start your careful search.

“Y/N,” your uncle calls out from some paces behind you. “Let’s talk babygirl.”

Where is this man?

You reach the end of the perimeter of your camp and he’s still no where around. He wasn’t with the others, or waiting for you anywhere. So where did he go?

“Uncle Tommy,” you finally address the man as you turn to face him with growing concern. “Where’s my dad?”

Your uncle Tommy finally catches up to you, and quickly averts his gaze while he lets out a deep breath that begins to worry you.

“Uncle Tommy?” You probe and slowly feel your joy fade away and get completely overtaken by concern.

“Y/N,” he mumbles and grabs your shoulder. “Your dad…he’s not coming with us.”

What?

“What do you mean?” You giggle nervously. “He was with us this morning. He left Boston with us. Is this a prank?” You scoff. “Because it’s not funny.”

Your uncle doesn’t break into a laugh, he doesn’t smile, his frown deepens and his eyes express…sadness.

“Your dad is going to stay in Boston,” your uncle adds. “He just wanted to accompany us outside of Boston. But he’s not comin’ along anymore.”

He’s still joking. He—your dad couldn’t have just left you. His daughter. His youngest daughter. His daughter that still needs him. He didn’t leave.

“Stop,” you push your uncle away. “It’s not funny. Where is he?”

Your uncle sighs. “Sunny I’m being serious, your dad left. He’s not comin’...I’m sorry.”

But why?

Your eyes fill with tears and something tight wraps around your heart.

“Then we have to go back,” you begin to insist as you’re now in denial. “We have to go back to him. We can’t just leave him.” You turn to try and head back, but your uncle quickly manages to grab you and pulls you back.

“No, we’re not goin’ nowhere, he wants us to keep goin’. Together.”

You shake your head. “No. I can’t leave without him. Uncle Tommy, he’s my dad. We can’t,” you begin to stammer, feeling your throat begin to burn. “We have to go back. Please.” You keep trying to head back to Boston, but your uncle gets ahold of both of your shoulders and makes you face him.

“I’m sorry, but no. He left. He doesn’t want to come okay? But we’ll see him again. We’ll find a nice town, not one like this Quarantine Zone. You’ll make friends and you’ll learn to fight with the Fireflies in the meanwhile. Okay? And when—”

“Why?” You cut him off with tears streaming down your cheeks. “Why isn’t my daddy comin’?” You felt like a child again. A child exposed to danger, left in the dark. “Why did he leave me? Did I make him mad? Did I do somethin’?”

Your uncle quickly shakes his head. “No, no. Baby, no. He’s just…your dad just wants to stay. I’m sorry I can’t give a better excuse, a different reason, but he wants us to do better. He wants you to do better. Don’t you still want that?”

It’s been your dream, but…

“He doesn’t love me?” You whisper in a shaky voice.

Your uncle nods. “He loves you. I think he’s just strugglin’, it happens you know? I think everything that’s happened affected him differently, and he’s just grown scared to mess up with you. He’s afraid of losing you, I think that’s why he left. But he will never stop loving you. He just needs time, okay?”

You still don’t understand why he left you. But you also don’t really want to go back. Especially not now.

“Okay,” you mutter sadly.

Your uncle wipes away your tears and offers you an assuring smile. “It’s just you and me now, Sunny,” he says.

You feel assured by his words, by the fact that he stayed with you, but now without your dad it feels like something went off inside you.

——

*NOW. JACKSON.*

“I think I can pull it off. I’ve been reading some welding books. I mean I was in construction. How hard can welding a ring be?”

Your uncle Tommy has been going on about fixing Maria’s wedding band that didn’t fit her. You’ve been partially listening throughout your patrol, but your mind drifts to different thoughts about how you’re going to tell him you want to leave. How you’re going to explain it so he won’t get super upset.

“Is it hard?”

You blink and look over at him. His eyes were already on you though, so he catches the fact that you weren’t paying attention. “You okay?” He asks again. This is his second time today. Just like Maria, he suspects something’s wrong.

But you aren’t ready yet. “Yeah,” you lie, and drop your head to brush your fingers through your horse's hair. “I’m fine.”

Your uncle's gaze lingers on you, you feel him study you for a moment. Will he believe you?

“You know,” he interjects. “I’ve been in your life since you were a baby…”

Fuck, you should’ve known better.

“…I raised you for 8 years,” he continues. “It was just the two of us for a lot of those years, so you think I don’t know you, but I do. I know what every little expression means, I know when you’re sad, when you’re angry, especially when you’re excited and happy. I don’t want to drag it out of you, but you’re starting to worry me, Sunny. So tell me, please.”

Fuck. Fuck.

Your eyes are watering, you didn’t want to cry, but every word he said just now triggered those tears you hold back to fill your eyes.

“Well…” you start off slowly and keep your eyes averted. “I…” fuck. “I’ve decided that I’m going to leave.” You slowly drift your eyes to him and notice that he looks confused.

“Leave what?” He asks. “Your house? I thought you liked livin’ there?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I do. But it’s not that. I...” You pause and blink repeatedly as your courage falters. “I’m goin’ to leave Jackson.”

At the sound of your words your uncle brings his horse to a stop, so you follow suit to stay close. He then looks at you for a moment in disbelief before he chuckles dryly, and looks away at the woods that surround you. You don’t add anything, you let him wallow in what you just said and wait.

When he finally finds his emotions, his words, he faces you and shakes his head. “No,” he blurts. “You’re not leavin’ anywhere.”

“Uncle Tommy you can’t make me stay,” you argue. “I’m twenty-two. I’m an adult now, not a little girl or a teenager. I’m grown—”

“You’re not actin’ like it,” he cuts you off frustrated. “I mean it’s stupid. It’s crazy. You have a life here, you’re safe, here. There’s nothing out there but death.”

You shrug and keep holding in your tears. “Yeah, I know that…but I want to take the risk. I need to find who I am. I…don’t know who I am anymore,” you say in a shaky voice. “I’m lost. There’s an emptiness that keeps growing, that keeps pushing away the light that's over me. And I’m afraid if I stay here the darkness is going to swallow me.”

Your uncle scoffs and looks away as he shakes his head. “So what? You think you’re goin’ to find this light by what? Getting eaten by infected?” He spats. “Are you listening to yourself? We don’t live in the other life anymore, y/n, you can’t just grab a backpack and travel the world! The world is dangerous—”

“I know that!” You cut him with frustration that he’s not understanding. “I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” You sit back and exhale deeply, feeling the tears that you tried to hold back finally roll down your cheeks. “But I’m tired, I…I’m tired. I want to travel the country, prove to myself that I can make it by myself. I need to find myself, and that’s not here.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry, but you won’t change my mind. Nor will Maria.”

Your uncle holds your gaze with a hardened pointed glare, and nods along slowly in comprehension. He stays quiet and adds tension to the silence. He drops his head and draws in a deep breath before looking up at you and exhaling.

“Fine,” he deadpans. “Leave,” he spats angirly, and surprises you. “I won’t stop you. You want to die out there, be my guest…”

“Uncle Tommy,” you whimper.

“No, don’t. Your dad left and that hurt. I stayed strong for you, but I was hurt. He was my brother and he left. He chose to break us apart in this desolate world,” he says with cracks in his own voice caused by overwhelming anger. “You made my life good, lookin’ out for you kept me from losin’ myself. But I still live with this gap in my heart because I don’t know if it was Joel’s last day and I didn’t know. So if you go too I won’t let that consume me. I can’t.” He shakes his head. “You want to go? Go. I won’t chase you and I won’t worry.”

And just like that his words cut deep in your already bleeding heart. This isn’t what you wanted, you didn’t expect him to give you his back, not him. He’s the only family you have left since your dad left you. He’s everything to you and so much more, you don’t want him to forsake you.

“Uncle Tommy,” you plead.

“No,” he interjects quickly. “No. Just,” he sputters and nudges his horse's reins. “Don’t. I'm done.” And just like that he rides ahead without waiting for you. He leaves you behind with tears streaming down the curve of your cheeks. He leaves you aching.

But he doesn’t change your mind from what you plan to do. Nothings going to change your mind anymore. You just wanted his blessing, or a comfort. But you got neither.

How will Maria react? He’s probably going to tell her as soon as he gets back home, will she forsake you too?

If she does you’ll truly have nothing. Perhaps then that dimming light will snuff out completely, leaving you with nothing but a vast emptiness.

——

*LATER*

After your uncle Tommy ran out on you, you took the long way back home just to get your thoughts straight. To think of what you need to tell Maria.

She’ll be worse than your uncle perhaps.

Nevertheless, you do hope to run into your uncle to talk, to not leave things tense, but the further you walk inside your gated community, the more hope you lose about seeing him. Other people greet you when they see you, some of his friends wave at you, but you don’t see him amongst them.

You hoped to see Maria too, but she’s also not around—Then again that’s a good thing, you still need time before you talk to her.

One person you do run into though is Apollo, your best friend and housemate. He spots you first and runs at you. When he’s beside you he throws his arm around your neck and pulls you towards him.

“What’s up sunshine!”

You roll your eyes to him and shoot him a teasing look. “Sunshine? If your girlfriend hears she’ll probably beat you.”

Apollo scoffs and shrugs. “Now, now, stop all that yapping, okay? It’s not fair just because you don’t like her.”

You scoff in disgust. “Yeah. I don’t. I can read people you know. She gives me a bad feeling.”

Apollo rolls his eyes and lets you go. You quickly glance at him and see his discontent.

“I'm sorry,” you quickly correct yourself. “I'll try to stop. I'm just…looking out for you,” you explain as you nudge him. “Which is not an excuse, but…” you sigh. “We’ve known each other basically a life time now. It’s my job.”

Apollo meets your gaze and sighs but nods slowly. “I know. What has it been now? Fuck,” he laughs softly. “Seven years?”

You nod. “A lifetime.” You look away from him to look your path ahead.

“Which is why…I know somethings up with you,” Apollo mentions and gently nudges you. “What’s wrong?”

You exhale deeply and drop your gaze. “I told my uncle Tommy about my plans. He…got mad at me, he…turned his back on me,” you reveal in a shaking voice. “I mean i knew—I expected him to get upset, but this? He’s all I got.” You stop walking and sniffle.

Apollo knew about your plans, he knew about them when they were just running thoughts. He of course doesn’t approve of it, but he’s been more lenient.

“You have to just give him a moment to think,” Apollo says as he stops in front of you. “You’re all he has too you know?”

“He has Maria,” you add right away. “His wife.”

“In that case you have Maria too,” Apollo argues.

You slowly look up at him with a watery gaze and shake your head softly. “But does that matter? I view her as a maternal figure, but I’ll never be her child. I’ll never be their child. They’ll have a kid sooner or later and I’ll be forgotten while they stay a family. Which is the reason I shouldn’t be uspet about my uncle really, it’ll hurt less when he eventually leaves me behind like…” you trail off and drop your head to wipe away your tears.

“You’re crazy,” Apollo interjects. “You’re crazy to think that your uncle Tommy and Maria would do that.”

You shake your head in disapproval because your dad left you. The one person you thought would stay in your life forever left you without a second thought. Like if you were a piece of trash.

“You mean the world to them, the both of them,”

He continues. “It’s why your uncle fought against your plans, why he got upset.

Because he can’t fathom the thought of losing you, his niece, a girl he raised through this hell, his daughter.”

You meet Apollo's gaze and let out a soft cry.

“He’s not forsaking you,” Apollo continues softer. “He’s fighting for you. In his own way. You mean something to him. To her. To me. To Mia, Atlas, to everyone that sees the plays you put on with all your love for something you’re keeping alive…isn’t that enough to let you stay?”

You hold his gaze and shake your head.

Apollo nods slowly in comprehension. “Then just give him time, okay?” Apollo asks of you. “He cares.” He offers you a tiny smile, and you wipe your tears off your face and just nod. You can’t actually say anything, you’re too emotional.

“Come here,” Apollo adds and carefully wraps his arms around you.

You let out a small, relieved laugh and hug him back. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Apollo rubs your back and responds softly. “I’m here for you.”

You stay in each other's embrace for a moment longer, basking in each other's warmth and presence. When you do pull away he keeps his arm around you, and you continue your way home.

“Now come on,” he says sweetly. “We can eat lunch and watch something while you come up with what you’re gonna tell Maria. Because…I’m scared for you.”

You chuckle. “I’m scared too. She might tie me up.”

Apollo gasps. “I got your next play!” He exclaims. “Rapunzel! And hey you can actually be locked away in some tower! Talk about bringing your character to life!”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you can’t help but laugh.

He had a way to do that, he finds ways to make you happy when you’re upset. And it worked for a while, he made lunch and you watched a movie, eventually your friend and other housemate Mia came home too, so she joined in and you felt happy. But when the moment was done, when you were alone in your room, the happiness left.

Thoughts overwhelm your mind, different variations of thoughts. Music though…it helps and keeps things quiet.

Albeit there is one person who surfaces to mind. He exists only in your memory, just like Sarah. It’s been 8 fucking years since you’ve seen him. Since he left. And even after all of it, all the ugly side that came out of him, you still want to see him again. Maybe one more time to hug him, have him hold you and remind you of the much simpler things, of home.

You can’t return home, but one warm embrace, his scent will make it feel like you’re home again—

Nevertheless, as you’re lost in thought, suddenly the music from your headphones stops playing. “Hey,” you complain and sit up. That’s when you see Maria with the cord in her hand.

Fuck.

You pull the headphones down to your neck and scoot to the edge of your bed with your gaze averted since she looks upset. “Hey,” you greet softly.

“You missed dinner,” she breaks her silence and throws the cord on the bed.

There’s no time for small talk, you can’t sit here and just pretend she doesn’t know. “Uncle Tommy told you,” you state.

Maria exhales deeply and sits besides you on the bed before she nods. “He told me this crazy ass story that you want to leave.”

You blink repeatedly and sniffle. “He’s mad,” you state again.

“Yeah,” she scoffs. “He’s pissed…” she trails off and lets out a deep sigh before she shifts around to face you. “I wouldn't be a good guardian, protector…mother, if I didn’t try to convince you to stay.”

You slowly drag your eyes up and meet her dark brown eyes with sadness.

“It’s a stupid idea,” she continues with anger in her own voice, in her own expression. “You have a life here. A life you’re building. Things are never going to be easy, life isn’t that simple. But that’s life. Even now.”

You shake your head. “I don’t expect life to be easy,” you argue. “I don’t want to leave because life is hard. I…” you pause and drop your head. “You can’t convince me to stay Maria. I’m not a little girl anymore to be protected, I have to experience on my own if my choices are bad, he can’t decide that anymore.” You shake your head. “I want…” you come to another pause and shake your head.

“I don’t know when I’m going to die,” you continue, “it might be tomorrow, next week or years from now, but it will happen though, and I don’t just want to know these walls. I need to live for myself, not be protected all the time…I want to see the ugly and the beautiful, know it before I die.” You lift your head and meet her gaze with tears running down your cheeks.

“You didn’t let me finish,” she says softly. “I won’t fight you to stay, but you tell me, give me a great reason why I should let you leave. Why you want to leave and I’ll see you off. I’ll accept your existential crisis, I’ll worry but wish you the best.”

You look at her with confusion and probe. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m furious,” she states seriously. “But I want to listen to you. I know somethings wrong, just talk to me.”

It wasn’t your birthday anymore to avoid ruining your day for them, but you also don’t want to burden her with your trauma.

Maria notices your reluctance though and presses you. “Come on please.”

You shrug and wipe away your tears, but still can’t utter a word.

“It better not be because of him,” Maria interjects without naming your father.

You sigh and finally answer her. “I tried, you know. I was scared of everything, but I tried to fight away the fear so he could stop gettin’ mad at me. Because that’s all he was, mad all the time.”

“You were just a kid,” Maria argues.

You nod softly. “Yes, but I had to grow up to survive. So he could look at me with a proud smile and tell me I’m doin’ good,” you continue shakily. “But…no matter what I did it angered him because I could never be her. He loved her deeply, after she died a part of him died too. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he left…” you pause and fight your tears back. “…I was never enough for him. And after he left I was angry, I pretended he was dead…it was easier that way. But I’m still here, and it’s back, that feeling like I’m not worth something, like I’m a failure.”

Tears roll down your cheeks after the fight you tried to maintain didn’t last whatsoever. Maria notices right away and takes your hand in hers.

“That’s not true,” she argues against your comment.

You avert your gaze and sniffle. “But it is, I was never enough for him to stay with me. I’m not enough…I’m a failure.”

“You’re only 22 years old,” she adds. “You’re still young. You still have a lot to accomplish, so much life to live.”

You slowly meet her gaze and counter. “That doesn’t matter or take away from what I feel. That’s why I need to leave. So I can find me, by myself, and not get coddled. I can’t numb away my pain anymore or else I’ll get swallowed by the void that’s already surrounding me.”

Maria holds your gaze and nods along slowly in comprehension. Neither of you say anything for a while, you let her think. And after a while she finally responds by pulling you in an embrace.

“I hate that you feel that way,” she says as you hug her back carefully, almost out of fear she’s going to take it back and just scold you. “I can contradict you in so many ways, but your mind is set. You’re an adult…we can’t force you to stay. Just promise you’ll fight to stay alive. That you’ll come back.”

You nod. “Yes,” you assure her with a wobbly smile. “I swear I’ll fight.” You then pull back and face her. “What about my uncle Tommy?” You slide your hands to your lap and clench them to fists to dig your nails in your palm. “I don’t want to leave with him mad at me.”

Maria scoffs. “Just talk to him. I have. He’s home.”

Your uncle and you don’t argue much, not even when you were younger and your emotions were all over the place, so when you do it was like a tragedy to you, after your anger passed of course. You hate having the sun set on your anger, if you could you resolve your issues that same day. Of course sometimes it takes time, but this time, even if you aren’t leaving at this very moment, you can’t have his back turned on you.

You just hope he feels the same, hopefully he doesn’t want to have days to himself. The longest you’ve gone without talking to your uncle is probably like, two days. You won’t survive a whole week, or weeks!

However, when you do get to their house, since Maria left to let you have time alone, the atmosphere between your uncle and you is full of tension. It’s deafening. He keeps himself busy for a moment, but when he joins you in the living room the silence is awkward.

What can you tell him? You didn’t do anything wrong, and you said everything you needed to say…

Wait!

“I hope you know,” you break the silence softly. “Nothing will change my mind, but I still hope that you can accept and respect my choice. I need you to or else I won’t be at peace.” You look over at him and notice he keeps looking ahead.

Your uncle then proceeds to let out a deep breath, he drops his head and looks at his cup of alcohol solemnly.

“I promised Maria that I’d fight to come back,” you add. “To tell you the truth I was fine not coming back, but…you mean everything to me, I can’t do that to you. Or Maria. So I will fight, I will come back. I promise.”

Your uncle blinks repeatedly and slowly lifts his head and faces you. “You swear it?” He says.

You nod. “I swear,” you assure him.

Your uncle sighs but he then nods softly. You let out a relieved sigh and can’t help it, you throw your arms around him and hug him tightly.

“I love you, you know?” You tell him.

He nods and hugs you back. “I know,” he says. “I love you too. That’s why I got angry. But you didn’t deserve how it came out. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I understand.” You hug him tighter and just relish in the comfort he brings you. You stay in each others embrace for a moment, and this time when you’re apart the silence isn’t full of fucking tension, it’s comfortable.

But after a while he breaks it slowly and in a shaky voice. “The dark days are gone…And the bright days are here,” he continues in a soft sing-song voice. “My Sunny one shines so sincere…”

Oh. Oh! It’s a song, Sunny, by Boney M. He loves to play this song when you’re around, he also loved to play it when he would come to your house before. It’s your song.

“Sunny,” you join in very softly, and with tears rolling down your cheeks and a smile on your face.

“One so true, I love you…” you both trail off and begin to laugh. You then look at one another and chuckle harder.

“I hope you find everything you’re looking for,” he says.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I hope so too.” You then let your head fall on his shoulder, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and press a kiss on the top of your head.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @maplecohen @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @dgraysonss @rana030 @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201 @maeneedsabreak @maelartasch @adristyles @daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @ririvilliams @khaylin27 @hypatia93 @hummusxx @v4mpyk1tten @1donoow @your-shifting-gurl @g4ns3y @izzzzy-the-amazing @aphr0d1teh @lovelyygirl8 @ivy-taylorsversion

[welcometololaland]

WIP WORKING WEEK PART 2: PRODUCT PLACEMENT This is way more than the sentences I was supposed to do, but it's dialogue so I feel like I can get away with it. I'm also doubling this up as my (twenty) seven sentence Sunday. Thanks for the tags @freneticfloetry, @rosedavid @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @three-drink-amy @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom @strandnreyes @carlos-in-glasses and @heartstringsduet! I can't wait to dig into your snippets!

Carlos pauses. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to confess to doing something that you know I won't like?”

“Well—”

Carlos sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. “TK.”

“You can’t be mad, you don’t even know what it is yet,” TK protests. Carlos thinks he can hear Nancy snickering in the background of the phone call.

“It?” Carlos asks, shuffling into the kitchen, throwing a Nespresso pod in the machine and turning it on at the wall. He feels a little woozy after spending so much time asleep and wonders whether a coffee will make him feel better about this conversation. He loves TK so much it feels like his heart could burst, but the love of his life also spends a lot of time tap dancing on Carlos’ last nerve. 

“Okay, first of all,” TK insists. “It’s very small.”

“How small?” Carlos asks. “Like, Lou small? Or Buttercup small? Because sometimes you treat those two animals as if they’re the same size.”

TK scoffs. “Carlos, we have no idea how big Lou is now. He could be huge.”

“I doubt it,” Carlos says drily. “But we can go out to the Greenbelt and search for Godzilla if you like.”

“Okay, I meant huge for an alligator lizard. I think their maximum length is eight inches—”

“TK, what did you buy? It’s not…alive, is it?”

“Baby,” TK chides. “It’s super irresponsible to buy a pet without first consulting your partner. Unless you want to buy me a lizard, in which case you should just assume that the answer is yes—”

“You brought Lou home without consulting me!”

“Technically, I didn’t buy Lou because I found him in that guy’s leg.”

“That is not helpful.”

TK sighs. “Okay,” he admits. “I should have asked. But it all worked out for the best, right? We released Lou into the wild, and you got to finally redecorate the living room.”

“After I trashed it trying to find him,” Carlos says, rolling his eyes, but he can feel his resolve waning. TK has such a big and generous heart, something that Carlos loves intensely – even when it extends to reptiles. “Okay, come on. You need to confess before you get home or you’re going to be all funny.”

“What do you mean?” TK asks innocently.

“I mean, you’re going to simultaneously try to distract me with sex and a TV show we both know I don’t want to watch.”

“But the sex works, doesn’t it?” TK asks, his voice dropping to a whisper. In the background, Carlos hears Nancy make a retching noise.

“TK.”

“Fine,” TK relents. “I bought you something for work.”

Carlos pauses. “You know I can’t use costume handcuffs for work, right?”

TK practically chokes. “Mind out of the gutter please, Carlos,” he says. “I got you a desk vacuum.”

There’s a long pause, where Carlos tries to imagine how a vacuum cleaner is going to fit on a desk, much less what it is required for. The station has nightly cleaning and since the pandemic, each unit has been given a near-endless supply of anti-bacterial wipes which Carlos uses religiously on his office keyboard, even though he’s the only one who uses it.

“Thank you, babe,” Carlos says slowly. It’s not supposed to be a question, but it kind of sounds like one. “What’s a desk vacuum?”

“It’s like this mini vacuum that gets rid of all the crumbs and stuff on your desk,” TK explains calmly. “I bought one for Dad, too. He loves it.”

Carlos has heard those Freudian theories about marrying someone who subconsciously reminds you of your parent, but it still alarms him to realise TK considers him sufficiently similar to Owen that he buys them the same thing. 

“I’m a little concerned you’re starting to believe police officers eat doughnuts at their desk all day,” Carlos says weakly, trying to pass off his uncertainty as humour.

TK laughs. “Baby, I’ve seen your abs,” he quips. “Those are not made of doughnut.”

“The doughnuts never last long enough in this house for me to—”

“You do spend heaps of time at your desk though,” TK continues. “I thought a desk vacuum would be useful.”

Carlos frowns. “I do?” he asks, wondering where TK has plucked this idea from. In reality, Carlos does spend more time than he’d like to sitting down, but most of it is in a patrol car.

“You’re always complaining about the paperwork,” TK says mildly. “Right?”

“Right,” Carlos agrees slowly. “But it doesn’t mean that police work is a desk job.”

“I mean…it kinda is,” TK replies. “Not all the time. But you spend heaps of time inside.”

Carlos scoffs. “Are you saying that because the one time you’ve been inside the station you were handcuffed to my desk?”

“Very funny, Carlos,” TK replies drily. “Don’t get defensive because you spend way more time typing things on a computer than I do.”

“You do inventory all the time!”

“With a clipboard,” TK says hotly. “Standing up and waiting for the bell to ring.”

“Oh, when you’re not busy playing table soccer and cooking up four course meals?”

“I also do those things standing up,” TK points out. “And I don’t see you running into any burning buildings on the job.”

“Do not go there, TK Strand,” Carlos mutters. “You can’t seriously be starting a red versus blue argument with me.”

Pretty sure everyone has done this already but tagging @bonheur-cafe and @marjansmarwani just in case and @goodways because I know you love a good TK and Carlos argument dlfjlsdkjf.

[wildbornsiren]

Night at the Hard Deck || Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd/F!Reader/Jake ‘Hangman” Seresin

Night at the Hard Deck.  Summary: Bob gets a little possessive, and Jake gets more than he bargained for.  1,011 words Female/AFAB reader (established relationship, partner sharing) Warnings: EXPLICIT MINORS DNI: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), partner sharing, public sex.  Notes: This is all the fault of the Creator Coven. I woke up and chose violence, so they’re having me share it with everyone else. Comments and sharing really make me happy, likes are welcome. Thank you so very much for reading. I appreciate it so much, it means the most. **Tag list is gone. Please follow and turn on notifs for @wbslibrary​ **

Friday night and the bar is packed you and Bobby showing up a bit later than intended having gotten ‘distracted’ while getting ready to go out for the night. Bob and Rooster are playing pool, Natasha is taking bets. “I hope Rooster knows that Bobby and Nat are in on this together.” You say to Jake when Bobby sinks two balls with one shot. Jake laughs and pats you on the shoulder as he goes to get another beer. You look up from your nearly empty drink, feeling the intensity of someone watching you.

Your stomach drops when you lock eyes with your boyfriend. Bob's jaw clenches, he hands his pool cue off to Natasha, and the subtle tilt of his head has you sliding off the barstool heading for the restrooms.

In the hallway Bobby pins you against the wall, leg between yours. "You're going to let him flirt with you, touch you when you've got my cum dripping from that tight little pussy?" He growls into your ear, and you bite your lower lip.

“You’re wound up.” You mutter, cheek pressed to the wall.

"I think you need a reminder of who has you darlin'" Bob says softly. "I should have you again. Right here. At this point I don't care who sees. Maybe it'll teach you a lesson about respect. Have you fall apart on my cock where anyone can see how needy you are for it." His fingers undo the button of your jeans, shoving his hand under the cloth roughly.   You can’t hold back the whimper that passes your lips. Bobby rarely got this possessive, but when he did, it sparked something that you couldn’t help but poke at.

"Fuck darlin'" he groans, and you know you're in for it. He's swearing in public. "Clenching around nothing. So needy, so desperate. You want to be shown off like that?" He's rubbing at your clit, fingers expertly dragging needy sounds. You're trying to muffle your moans, your hand pressed against your mouth. Bob rocks his hips against your ass and a whine slips out. Grinding yourself on his hand, he chuckles softly.

"That's it." Low, raspy and deep. "You know who gets you like this. Silly girl. spread your legs more" He shoves your jeans down just enough, and you hear his belt buckle and zipper coming down. Your nails dig into the wall, both hands scrambling to find some sort of purchase to steady yourself when the blunt head of his cock slides between your folds and into you easily.

"That's my girl. Take it. Just like this." One hand covers your mouth, the other tight on your hip. He's fucking into you, the only thing you can hear is his grunts and the slapping of skin against skin. A silent prayer to whoever is listening that the jukebox keeps playing the classic rock and Rooster doesn't get the urge to unplug and play the piano. You whimper and move back against him, rocking your hips, meeting his thrusts. You know you’re drooling, and he doesn’t seem to care, especially when he presses himself deeper. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the sensation of being stuffed so full. He’s fucking his earlier load back into you, driving it back inside.

"Mine." Bobby growls again and you tighten around him. "Jake's looking for you. You want him to watch? See how needy and willing you are for my cock sweetheart? He wouldn't believe you otherwise. Not quite unassuming Bob." Someone clears their throat. It's masculine, and the chuckle that follows lets you know exactly who is watching Bob rail you in the hallway of the Hard Deck.

"You tightened up." Bob breathes into your ear. “You should see his face darlin��, he’s so fucking turned on. I don’t know who’s more fucked you or him.” His hips jerk slightly. "I'm close. Should I just fill you again, and let him lick it out? Have you cum like that? Or have you been good enough to come on my cock." You mouth words against his hand but can’t seem to find your voice. "How about it Jake? You wanna lick my girl clean? Have her come on your tongue? Mouth's gotta be good for something other than talking shit." Bob snaps his hips against you, pressing you tighter against the wall as he thrusts harder, chasing his own high. You moan, not caring that the sound spills out around Bob's hand. He's fucking into you ruthlessly.

"I do like to have a snack when I've been drinking. Pussy is always an option." Jake says. That low drawl slides down your back and Bob chuckles.

"Sweetest fucking pussy you'll ever taste." Bob nuzzles the side of your neck; you can feel him twitching inside of you. He comes with a groan that rumbles through his chest. "If he doesn't take care of you baby, I'll make it up to you." Whispered into your ear. He pulls out and you whine at the empty feeling.

"Lean forward," Jake says softly, dropping to his knees. He pulls your hips further off the wall. The first swipe of his tongue nearly has you climbing up said wall, but Bob's hand closes over yours, fingers lacing together. Jake groans as he eats your pussy, tongue working deep, fingers teasing at your clit. It's vulgar and lewd, the sound of his mouth as he licks every trace of Bob from you.

Pleasure slams into you, and you’re coming hard. Bobby’s grip on your hand tightens, as you shake against the wall. Jake continues to chase every bit of your release, groaning as he doubles down, the flat of his tongue curling and taking everything, you have to offer.

You’re slowly coming down when Jake gets to his feet, fixing your clothes. You turn, unsteady to watch him. He winks, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Smirk firmly in place, he traces Bob’s lower lip. “You’re right Bobby boy. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. You taste pretty sweet too.”

[jungle-angel]

A Slight Upset (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: Miles really has to cool it with how much dairy he eats, but it has seriously hilarious results

Tagging: @floydsmuse

Miles could feel the goosebumps beginning to form on his skin as he sat in the doctor's office, stripped down to his tight grey shorts and waiting for Dr. Russel to come in and look him over. The cramping in his belly was still bad, bad enough to have landed him here after a rough night.

The door opened and in came Dr. Russel, his greying hair spiking up a bit in the front, glasses on his eyes and his white beard cut so close to his jaw that it was hardly noticeable.

"Hey Miles," he greeted cheerfully. "How's everything?"

"Pretty good so far Doc," Miles replied.

"That's good," Dr. Russel answered, scrawling a note on his clipboard. "Remind me of your date of birth again?"

"January 29th, 1943," Miles answered.

"Height?"

"Six foot on the dot."

"Weight?"

"One-sixty-two."

Dr. Russel's eyebrows went up a little. "Alright, lookin good," he remarked. "Any health issues in the last year or two?"

"Um......." Miles stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well......it's....it's a little hard to explain.....It's not something I've had all my life but....."

"How long ago did it start?" Doctor Russel asked him.

"A few years ago," Miles answered. "When I was still in the army."

"Can you tell me a little of what's going on?"

"I've been having really intense belly cramps lately," Miles explained. "Last night was kinda....."

"Eventful?" Doctor Russel chuckled.

"Eventful's a gross understatement, Doc," Miles said, laughing a little.

"Well," Doctor Russel said. "We'll get to the bottom of it either way. You mind laying on your back for me?"

Miles did what was asked and laid back on the exam table. Outwardly he kept a cool face, but internally he was squirming. He always hated getting a head-to-toe physical every year and didn't like anybody that wasn't you, feeling him up.

He tried really hard not to squirm or make faces when he felt one end of the stethoscope being pressed against his belly, moving every so often until Doctor Russel had finished. The feeling got even worse when those gnarled hands began feeling up his tummy, the fingertips digging in slightly to feel for anything out of the ordinary.

"Anything hurt?" he asked.

Miles shook his head.

As soon as Doctor Russel was done, he let Miles sit upright again. "Well," he said. "Good news, it's not IBS and it's definitely not anything alarming."

"It's not?" Miles asked him again.

"Nope," Doctor Russel replied. "Just a slight intolerance. You said you were in the army, right?"

Miles nodded.

"Just what I thought," Doctor Russel chuckled. "You were drinking all that powdered milk in the coffee for so long that you probably developed a deficiency. I see this kind of thing all the time."

Miles felt a little less embarrassed but a little dismayed. "Do I have to cut everything out?"

"Well," Doctor Russel said, scratching his jaw a little. "In some cases I'd say yes, but you? I'm gonna have to give a hard no. I want you at least one-seventy for weight and you need the calcium. Just try to cool it a little bit and if anything persists, come see me as soon as possible."

Miles agreed and as soon as the doctor had left the room, he put his clothes back on. He really hated the thought of having to cut back since he loved the cheese, yogurt and ice cream so much and desperately needed to drink milk, but after the events of last night, he would try his damndest to be careful.

***********************

You were excited as ever to be able to make the German chocolate cake recipe that had once been Miles's grandmother's. You only made it every so often, only at Christmas, Easter and New Year's, but you figured that your elderly neighbor would appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

You opened up the fridge for the eggs but noticed that your small pint of cake batter ice cream was missing. "Son of a bitch," you muttered.

"S'matter sweetpea?" you heard Miles ask.

"I had a little pint of vanilla cake batter ice cream in the fridge," you explained. "I swear if Benny got into it I......"

You and Miles both froze, your gazes meeting for a split second before you realized what was in his hands........a spoon and a half eaten pint of your ice cream.

"Baby?"

"Yeah?"

"You ate my ice cream?"

A sheepish look came over Miles's face and you could see the heat rising into his cheeks. "Baby I'm sorry I couldn't help myself," he said sheepishly.

"Miles," you said. "Didn't the doctor tell you that you had to stay away from dairy for a while?"

"No."

"Miles!"

"He said to cut back he didn't say to not eat it."

You laughed a little and shook your head, wrapping your arms around his waist. "What am I gonna do with you?" you questioned, a huge smile forming on your face.

"You could kiss me for start," Miles said cheekily, before swallowing the last bite of ice cream.

And you did. You kissed him right on the lips, sweetly, taking your time to run the tip of your tongue across his lips to take in the lingering taste of the ice cream before you broke away.

"Just know that if you're not feeling good tonight it's on you," you chuckled, rubbing the soft flatness of his belly.

"Challenge accepted, dear," he half laughed, kissing you back.

[istadris]

More about this AU about Dr Mario and Mr L from separate words meeting in the Mushroom Kingdom.

@snowyfrostshadows @kuramirocket I am thanking both of your tags for stirring my brain into writing more.

*

It's far from smooth sailing at first.

There's the initial thrill, the euphoria of a dream come true -I found you, I finally found you again, you came back to me- but quickly bumps in the road appear and frustrate them both.

Both have trauma regarding their own brother, both are worried they're subconsciously trying to replace their missing brother, or that this Other is trying to do the same with them.

Dr. Mario is very closeted emotionally, almost stunted. Man of few words, keeping his emotions close to his chest, rarely allowing himself to express how he feels, even when he's hurting. And always, always caring more about others than himself, to the point of putting himself in danger and blindly trusting strangers, despite not being a fighter (he does packs a mean punch, but he's not the agile, athletic Mario we're familiar with). He fusses and worries a lot about Mr. L, gets stressed if he can't help him, and every time Mr L snaps at him, he bears it stoically, even if it hurts. He deserves it (he should have done more). He can take it (it should have been him instead). He doesn't mind if Mr L refuses to call him by his name, as long as he's safe and sound.

Mr L is loud, angry and aggressive to hide his anxiety. He's so relieved yet deeply scared to finally have his brother back (but it's not his brother, it will never be his Mario), because he will mess up again and lose him again, he knows it, so better do the job yourself to spare yourself the pain...and yet every time he's about to push Dr Mario away for good, he panics and tries to make things better, he can't leave him behind again. His memory still blocks out most of what happened to his own Mario -all he remembers is being surrounded, there's too many of them, and then the next memory is him running covered in wounds, tears blurring his vision, and most of all, the agony of knowing his brother was gone. Every time he tries to remember, to dig deeper, panic inevitably seeps in, coiling around this throat until he's gasping for air and forces him to kick back to the surface out of instinct.

It doesn't help that Dr Mario had several years to process his brother's death, even if it still hurts after all this time : at least he knows what happened. Meeting another version of Luigi...he can't help but wonder if that's the universe giving him another chance .

Meanwhile, Mr L is in the grey and can't process his brother's death properly, so he is tense about this other version of Mario, and while he doesn't realize it consciously (at first), he associates his own brother with guilt, the Doctor being a living reminder of what he failed to do. (A part of him is also angry at himself for hoping for the impossible when he saw that terribly familiar yet foreign face: that his Mario had survived against all odds).

Despite the tension, Dr Mario manages to convince Mr L to stick together until at least they reach some kind of town. (Not that Mr L actually needed much effort to convince; despite his complaints, he doesn't let the Doc go out of his sight).

Of course once they do reach town and get over the weirdness of Toads, they learn about how the Koopa King has been attacking the kingdom and now the princess has been kidnapped. And of course the first thing Dr Mario wants to do is helping these strange little people. Mr L is baffled and reluctant. Why should they bother with these guys ?? Don't they have enough problems ? Mr L's trust has been abused before and it drives him crazy to watch the Doc (he doesn't want to call him Mario, not at that time) get roped into risking his neck against a freaking king. A fire-breathing ten foot monster, if the rumours are true.

They argue about it. Loudly. The argument gets out of hand, and at some point Mr L snarls "Stop thinking you get a say in my life just because I look like some dead kid! I'm not your brother and you are ! NOT ! MINE !!"

Dr Mario freezes and Mr L thinks he's finally pushed him beyond the limit. That the calm and composed doctor is finally going to snap and get angry.

(He wants Mario to be angry at him, he wants him to finally voice out loud all that guilt he carried for years).

Instead, Dr Mario looks...exhausted.

"You're right." He finally says in a soft, tired voice. "I'm not. And even if I was, I shouldn't put you of all people in danger. It's fine. I'll take care of the situation," he adds with a soft smile that doesn't reach his eyes, "just...stay safe, okay? That's all I'm asking."

And something rotten curls inside Mr L's gut as he watches his brother the doctor Mario leave, you're abandoning him again YOU COWARD.

He can't stop himself from following him at a distance, and it quickly proves to be the right call because it appears quickly that Dr Mario is NOT a fighter, quickly out of his depth against the first Koopa patrol he encounters. Mr L charges and scatters the Koopas, and when Dr Mario expresses surprise at his presence, he immediately blusters and claims loudly that Dr Mario trying to be a hero is giving him second-hand embarrassment...

"But hey," he says as he holds out his hand to the doc on the ground, "brother or not, I should at least make sure you won't die stupidly on your first try at adventure. That's a dumb way to end your game."

Dr Mario is...puzzled. And yet so, so relieved.

It's the first step of a long road. They don't know where it will lead.

But they're going to take it together.

[goddessofroyalty]

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Verse: Cloud is the Remnant’s carrier

Tags: omegaverse, past-mpreg, some mention of force-pregnancy

I’m far enough into the Rebirth to start writing this thing again.

Promise this isn’t just going to become a series of different characters learning about the Remnant triplets existence, just halfway through writing this I had a moment of “wait does Red XIII even know about any of the kids?” so had to include that.

-----------

“What’s wrong?”

Spike looks actively pained to be asking the question so Barret really must be looking pathetic in his feeling sorry for himself now they’re all settled into the hotel for the night. Their merc may be a ‘mega but he was no damn good at warm and fuzzy stuff like most would expect of his designation.

“It’s nothing,” Barret says. Not wanting to drag the mood down on their first night on the road after escaping Midgar and Shinra.

“Just thinking ‘bout Marlene is all,” Barret says, just as Cloud sits on the other bed probably satisfied that he’d at least asked. They say stress shared is stress halved. And if anyone would understand what Barret was going through it’d be their resident former-SOLDIER. “It’d be about her bedtime now. And I ain’t there to read her her story.”

It was damned unfair that he had to leave his baby girl behind so he could go save the planet from what Shinra had done. Marlene deserves her daddy being there to say goodnight and instead he’s out hunting down Sephiroth.

“Elmyra will make sure she gets one,” Cloud says, laying back down on his bed for the night.

“Yeah, but will she do all the voices right? And will she make sure to explain exactly how the hero rallies the people against the evil dictator?” Marlene was particular about these things after all. It’d even taken Tifa a bit to get it right back when she first started babysitting when Barret had to go out on Avalanche business.

Spike just shrugs.

“You have a child?” Red asks before Barret has a chance to have a go at the merc for his lack of carrying about something so important.

“Huh? Yeah. We both do.” Had they not mentioned that before?

Barret digs out the photo of his baby girl he takes with him everywhere for whenever he needs to be reminded of why he’s doing this again to show their newest party member his princess.

“That’s Marlene. She’s my baby girl. The brightest kid you ever could meet.” Barret doesn’t try and keep the pride from his voice. Why should he? Marlene deserves his love for her shouted from the rooftops. “And Cloud’s are- uh-“

“Kadaj, Loz and Yazoo,” Cloud rattles off before Barret accidently messes up their weird ass names. “They’re- uh-“

Spike’s brow furrows in pained confusion and maybe Barret shouldn’t have brought the kids up. It’s easy for him to talk about his baby girl without including the shit Shinra put them through but the mega’ merc can’t. No real way to explain his babies without talking ‘bout their monster sire.

“They’re triplets,” Barret offers because he’s not an asshole that gonna’ force the ‘mega to say anything he don’t wanna’. What matters is that they’re Spike’s. “And you telling me you’re not thinking about how you’re not there to tuck them in and sing them to sleep?”

“I- don’t,” Cloud says, looking a bit better than he had moments ago. His expression is still confused but it doesn’t take much for that Barret’s figured out.

“You don’t sing to them?” Barret doesn’t imagine the merc has the most beautiful singing voice around but that’s not what it’s about. He used to sing to Marlene despite barely being able to hold a tune. Still does when she asks, although when it comes to singing its Tifa and Jesse she begs for it from and Barret can’t even be mad about it – they’ve got the best voices in Avalanche. “You read them bedtime stories then!?”

“No,” Cloud says with a shake of his head.

“Seriously!?” He knew the poor bugger was in over his head with three babies on his hands but he didn’t realize it was that bad.

“I – they’re babies,” Cloud says, sitting up on the bed with the befuddled confused expression that makes people underestimate him even with him still wearing his SOLDIER uniform. “They wouldn’t understand them anyway.”

“It’s not about them understanding! It’s about them hearing your voice!” It’s not doing shit like that that gets you people like Sephiroth. Which, shit, they probably gotta’ be extra careful with those three to counteract whatever psychotic genes they got from that bastard.

He can’t even be that mad at Spike about it either. The poor bastard had been dealt a shit hand with the three of them and seemed to be struggling enough just keeping them and himself alive. Tifa had warned Barret the ‘mega suffered from nightmares when it was decided they and Red would room together and the three babies are young enough they likely don’t sleep through he night either. Hard to think about lullaby’s and bedtime stories when you’re barely getting any rest yourself.

Marlene would be making sure Elymira gave them all bedtime stories for the time being. But the kids weren’t staying with Aerith’s mum forever.

“Right. When we get back from saving the planet we’re gonna’ make sure they keep getting stories every night as well.” Marlene’ll no doubt be used to living with the three as well by the time they get back – no point trying to separate them again.

“You don’t have to,” Spike says because he’s allergic to asking for help.

“It’s nothing. And I can’t leave it up to you to try and tell a story – you’d miss half the facts.” Might take him a while to train the merc up to being any good at it but Barret’s one of the best bed-time story tellers around so if anyone can do it it’ll be him.

“I-“ Spike goes to protest.

“I know some tales as well,” Red chimes in, looking actually excited at the idea. “It will be good to pass them down to the next generation.”

“Hell yeah!” Barret says more to keep the energy going and prevent Spike from trying and squashing the idea. “I’m sure the girls have some too. We’ll have to build a roster. Though I’m always going to be my baby girl’s favorite.”

“We’ll see about that,” Red says, sounding mighty confident considering he had been a lab experiment until a couple hours back. Barret’s not giving up his title as the best storyteller without a fight, he’ll be sure to win Cloud’s three over as well.

It’s better than Cloud shouldering the burden of what Shinra did to him alone.

[bullet-prooflove]

Caveat: Jeff Clarke x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @telepathay @iworldlywriter @caffeinatedwoman @winchesterszvonecek @whateversomethingbruh @burningpeachpuppy @upsteadlogic @skyesthebomb @neapolitantoebeans @olymosity @stxrryswvrld @courtney-elizabeth93

DoingTime!Series:

Bail - Jeff doesn’t expect you to stick around after he’s arrested.

Despite how thankful Jeff is to be on bail, it comes with caveats and one of them is the tracking anklet.

The damn thing chafes like a bitch.

Not only that, his particular model needs charging on a daily basis, which means for almost two hours a day he has to sit next to an electricity outlet, trying to figure out a way to entertain himself. The suspension doesn’t help, through times of trouble he’s always immersed himself in work, now he doesn’t even have that. He busies himself instead by fixing up things around the house, the leaky faucet, the creaky door, the bookshelf that leans just a little to the right. When he burns through that list, he turns his attention to the garden. He’s been meaning to fix it up for a while, he’s just never had the time until now.

Rocco becomes his helper, when he sees Jeff digging, he gets involved too. That dog is his saving grace throughout his suspension, the two of them go running together, hangout in the park. Rocco doesn’t care about his misery, he just wants to play and that helps Jeff forget about his predicament.

There are other issues with the tracking anklet. It tends to get in the way when things get heated. The two of you discover there are certain positions, certain acts that you have to rethink because it either agitates him, or irritates you. He finds it immensely frustrating.

It’s not just that, he clips it on everything, tables, chairs, doorframes. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s fantasied about taking a hammer to the device, or using bolt cutters.

“I hate it.” He tells you one night as he cooks dinner. You’re sitting on the counter with a glass of wine as he chops ingredients on the counter. “I want to tear it off and toss it in the river.”

You both know what the underlying issue is. It’s Lisa. That anklet is a constant reminder of the grip she has on him, the fact she holds his life in her hands. She could stop this case at any time, tell the truth but she won’t, she likes having him in this position, at her mercy.

You both know she killed Hayes, you both know she’s framing Jeff, the problem is there isn’t a damn thing the two of you can do to prove it. As much as he wants to fight it he can’t, if he shows up on her doorstep, he’s intimidating a witness and that just adds to the charges. He’s had to talk you out of trouble a couple of times, when you’ve had the car keys in your hands ready to march over there and give her a piece of your mind. He doesn’t want this to drag you down, to fuck up your life because truthfully he knows that would just be icing on the cake for Lisa.

“Come here.” You say softly and Jeff sets the knife down, before slotting into the space between your legs. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close and he buries his face into the curve of your neck, inhaling the scent of your perfume. The aroma of jasmine floods his senses, soothing over his raw nerves as he cradles you close.

“You and Rocco are the only things that are keeping me sane right about now.” He murmurs against your skin. “I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you.”

“You won’t ever have to.” You assure him, your forehead coming to rest upon his. “Me, Rocco, everyone at 51, we’re here for you. We’ve got your back.”

Love Jeff? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[sevikasleftpussyflap]

Sevika normally is possessive and easily jealous, as a yandere? Holy shit get ready to die

These are just some of the yandere hcs I have (ty @master-sass-blast for the help). If there's any you want me to expand upon/add, let me know, they're probably in the next batch! This starts as soft yandere sev and she becomes more of an asshole as it goes. Please be wary of the tags!!

Mutuals please look away, this is depravity in it's final form<3

Warnings: MDNI 18+ NSFW, Noncon/dubious consent (just in case, this section is marked, if you think this will trigger you please don't read!), gaslighting, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, toxic relationships (please don't let anyone treat you like this), manhandling, vaginal and anal sex, squirting, rimming, noncon bondage, brothel reader for the first part

Sevika doesn’t emotionally connect with a lot of people so when she finds someone who loves her and then starts to love them just as much, probably more, she’s not going to let them get away.

She probably cut off the idea of love or getting close to people at an early age. As she was growing up she witnessed families, maybe even her own, be torn apart by enforcers or just the rough life of the Undercity, instilling the belief in her young mind that it wasn’t worth it to have people to care about. The poor social framework of Zaun wouldn’t help provide a healthy example of relationships either. The enforcers wouldn’t care to intervene in domestic disputes, abuse within families was probably considered normal, and Sevika most likely wasn’t immune.

So as Sevika grows into a young revolutionary, any kind of connection is kept professional. If she needs a stress reliever, she goes to the brothel or snags a one night stand from the bar (while being very clear and very firm about the no-strings-attached situation). She’d never take anyone to her apartment either, lest they try to stay beyond their welcome.

Maybe it’s the lack of physical or emotional connection in her life that makes her fall for the loving touch of one of the brothel workers. Maybe you have a certain softness to you that draws her in like a magnet, so contradictory to her that it makes her wonder how you survived this long on your own. All of the other workers she’s had before you were head over heels for her, professional, of course, and quick to pick up on her likes and hard limits, but you were the only one that didn’t have a slight tinge of fear that remained whenever she was around. That constant wariness was a reminder of what the situation was, of who she was, which was someone who was unlovable. Too monstrous for someone to have a genuine attraction to her that wasn’t accompanied with the thrill of being with the notorious brute or her unavailability. You, however, bathed her like a lover, like you had just been waiting all day for her to come visit you after work. Sex with you felt more intimate than anything she’s ever felt before. No matter the pace or her mood, it never felt like a transaction. It was the first time she’s been able to pretend this was something other than what it was.

Which led to the intense possession she felt over you. Sevika may not be touch starved, she’s have plenty of hands on her body and her hands on plenty of bodies, but intimacy starved? 

No one was brave enough to caress her hair so lovingly, or kind enough to massage her muscles with oil after a bath without her asking you to, or devoted enough to drop to your knees after she settles on the couch and rub her feet.

“You wearing those for me?” Sevika looked smug as she took in the lingerie. Maroon, the color closely resembling the one of her cape. 

“You told me to, my lady.” You replied teasingly, digging your hands into her shoulders in a spot that was prone to kinks. She had told you that the last time she came, when she took it upon herself to go through your drawers while you were recovering from an intense round of mind blowing sex. You were too out of it to mark her strange behavior, just barely able to hear her pleased comment about one of your sets.

“Just Sevika, now. It was just a suggestion. You can do what you want.” She’d been trying to break you out of the habit of using honorifics ever since her feelings for you started to grow.

“And I want to please you.”

Suddenly your clients stop showing up. No one hears from them again, at least not at The Gardens, and no one requests you except Sevika. You’re getting increasingly worried about if you’re going to have a place to stay next week.

During one of Sevika’s visits you break down, spilling all of your worries and tears onto her shoulder. You figure her lack of surprise is because she must have noticed how off you’ve been during the last couple of visits. When she rubs your back and offers for you to stay at her place, you’re beyond touched and the blossoming crush on your end grows more.

…

Sevika could have started off as a normal girlfriend but she doesn’t get attached quickly and probably just thought you were a fling that wouldn’t last a week. You exceeded her expectations and now you had her twisted heart in your hands. Before, you were merely an accessory when you were out at the bar with her. Just someone she could mark up and use to keep her lap warm in between her turn at cards, decorating your neck in hickeys in an effort to satisfy the urge she has to claim someone as hers. If anyone messed with you, she’d fuck them up, leave them barely breathing but it was obvious she was trying to impress you with her strength. Now that she’s serious about you, though? She’s considerably more angry when someone stares at you too long. It’s not just showing off for you anymore, it’s something more, something possessive.

Sevika would eventually start restricting your freedom, slowly enough that you think she’s just being caring and protective. You fall for it and swoon as she asks you with sweet kisses to stay in the apartment until she gets off of work. That’s usually her excuse. Something’s going on at work and it’s dangerous for you, Silco’s second’s partner, to be without her. But it never ends, the threat is never taken care of and she gets pissy when you ask about it. She’ll appease you by taking you to the drop with her only if you promise to stay by her side, like she’d let you leave it.

If you try to suggest a new place you want to go, Sevika will frown and give you a sardonic “we’ll see.” 

Your disappointment is visible in the way you deflate and she’s on top of you, giving you a kiss and telling you she has to make sure it’s safe first, has to know what kind of crowd hangs around that place, and who invited you there or told you about it. How do you know them? She has to meet them first. 

She gets frustrated at your disappointment and lectures you about how you don’t understand, she’s more experienced than you and she knows what’s best.

Since you’re stuck in the apartment quite a lot, she does take pity and get you items of your request. It’s only when those items start interfering with your time together does she ‘forget’ them. For example, your romance novels. Your crush on the love interest makes her want to burn all of the books in the room. She’ll be silently seething as you cuddle to her chest, ignoring her and focusing all of your attention on words on a page. Once you run out, she tasks you with writing your own story of what you want her to do to you when she gets home. She will make you read it to her and she’ll oblige your wishes as long as you never think of anyone else ever again.

You’re engrossed in that book again. Those too clever eyes of yours flit across the pages, devouring the sickly sweet content at a rate faster than Sevika can keep up with. 

She doesn’t make that much of an effort to stay on top of your book requests, in a way that’s completely purposeful. They take up too much of your time and as amusing as it was to watch your cheeks turn pink, knees curling in to subtly bring the book out of Sevika’s sight when you think she wasn’t paying attention, she began feeling neglected. 

Anytime you tried to talk to her about your fictional crush she interrupted you with kisses, trailing them down your neck, chest, and stomach until you forgot their name. The plot of them never captured her interest and her face remained stoic while you tried to fill her in. It was all the same to her with little variation; a love story with a contrived plot, likely written by a piltie whose saccharine fantasies would never come into existence Topside let alone in the Undercity.

But, you loved them. And it kept you complacent and distracted when she offered them to you whilst softly ordering you to stay in the apartment for the next few days while she dealt with a fabricated threat.

“What’s happening now?” Sevika turned the book towards her with a finger on the upper corner, earning herself the annoyed glare she loved to see as long as she was the one putting it there.

“Are you asking because you care, or do you just want my attention?”

“Sugar, if I wanted your attention, my fingers would be somewhere else.” Like how she charged her way into your life, Sevika turned up the charm and had you in her lap within seconds, explaining your boring little book with a fixation she loved and wanted on her. 

Sevika doesn’t tolerate anyone touching you but her. Anyone who flirts with you is getting the shit beat out of them in front of the bar. If they stare at you too long, she’s in their face and threatening them until she’s sure they won’t come back. If you were squeamish, she’d wait until you weren’t around to kill or maim them.

Sevika has a higher tolerance for you than she does for most people. However, if you keep pushing her after she gives you a warning she’s quick to put you in your place. She’ll take your face in her hand, make you look her in the eyes as she tells you it’s your last warning

In her mind, the only one who knows what’s best for you is her. She’s not going to let anything take you away from her, not even you. She wouldn’t be physically or outright verbally abusive but she wouldn’t be above manipulation and gaslighting. 

When she’s on shimmer she’s far more aggressive. She wouldn’t hit you but manhandles, pushes you against the wall, and punches other objects. In her mind, it’s not abuse if it doesn’t physically harm you.

During one of your countless fights, you threaten to leave again and she crowds into your space, intimidating you with her size and telling you to repeat what you just said. Sevika will bully you with a mean tone, getting you upset until you cry and start apologizing and then she’ll lovebomb you. She’ll take you into her arms and hold you while you cry, telling you that you’re just tired and had a hard day (even though that’s impossible because she doesn’t let you do anything.)

“What did you say?” The backbone you grew suddenly disappears, abandoning you so that you’re left alone with your furious girlfriend. 

“I don’t know, it was stupid, I was just-“

“Say it. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you said.” Her tone was harsher than you’ve ever heard it, at least when directed at you.

“M-Maybe we should take a break.”

Tears blurred your vision, the words about as shaky and unsure as you felt. Sevika takes in your shivering form and brings you to her chest where you start to cry, the affection you felt starved for now encompassing you.

“Baby, you’re upset. You don’t know what you’re saying.” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” 

Sevika makes sure the idea of leaving her empties your mind by implying that no one’s stupid enough to help you leave (and in turn piss her off.) She will show just the right amount of vulnerability you’ve been begging her to show you, but then as soon as she gets what she wants it’s gone, proving that it was just for show.

Some of that vulnerability includes trauma dumping about her childhood, manipulating you by solemnly telling you she doesn’t have a lot of people in her life to love so she doesn’t know how to deal with it. The rare sight of her letting her guard down makes you think there’s hope for her, and you fall in the trap when she rests her head on your chest and lets you hold her all night.

NON-CON/DUBIOUS CONSENT

Let’s say the bloodshed and brute violence isn’t what bothers you. Sevika keeps you locked up more often than not, not letting you have any freedom unless she’s with you. She used to be okay with sending a group of her boys with you but after one had done some light flirting, she caved his skull in on the same counter top she used to make you dinner.

The apartment feels like a prison and you’re sick of it. You’re also smart enough to know you’d never get far if you tried to leave, so you approach the topic with her. You tell her that she’s suffocating you, that you expected more out of being in a relationship with her, that you’re bored. And she does not take that kindly.

“Bored? What’re we gonna do about that?”

No matter how hard you try to backtrack or apologize, the words are out and Sevika’s locked onto them like a dog with a bone. Your feet carry you backwards until you hit the wall yet Sevika still advances on you, slowly, like a predator. She doesn’t say anything else, just watches you stutter and shake and plead, anxious eyes staring up into her unreadable ones. She’s staring down her nose at you, a look you’ve seen her give others before very bad things happened to them and you’re so aware of her immense presence as she cages you in. Your words fail you as she caresses your face almost absentmindedly. 

“Keep going. I like how you try and talk your way out of it.” She huffs a mean snort, so similar, yet vastly different to the one you just heard this morning when you told her a silly joke in bed. “Like that’ll change a damn thing that’s about to happen to you.”

You’re dragged to the bedroom and kept there for an insanely long time. Sevika works you open with her fingers first to wring several orgasms out of you. She switches between that and fucking you with her tongue, holding your hips down as you struggle, wickedly working that muscle until tears roll down your cheeks. You can never guess what she’s going to do next, evident by your gasp while she fingers you and moves her head down to tongue at your other hole, the feeling so wet and strange you’re not sure if you like it.

“Just changing things up. Don’t want to be too predictable for you.”

She’s still bitter over your words and fingers you harshly during her passive aggressive ones. The strap eventually comes out and she uses it until you’re nearly incoherent. The only break you have is when she goes to the other side of the room to pick a new toy to use on you, a plethera of tools you’ve never seen before that look downright torturous.

“I was saving them. I thought they might be a bit much for you so soon but hey, turns out I was just coddling you. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll keep it interesting from now on, promise.”

That night you discover Sevika is far more twisted than you thought. She likes you bound, spread open at her mercy in humiliating, painful positions. The bed is wet with your cum and lube from where she worked a butt plug into you, working you up enough to where she could use one of her smaller straps and claim you there.

After countless rounds, you eventually pass out from exhaustion. You could’ve slept a whole day. Sevika, though, is worked up from finally playing out her fantasies with you, those that she suppressed because she didn’t want to scare you or move too fast. So she wakes you up far too early to lovingly put you in the next position, shushing your protests with,

“No, no baby. I can’t let you get bored.”

Sex with Sevika is addicting. It’s how she ensnares you and makes you forget about your arguments or wanting to leave. She fucks you until you’re brainless, until the bed is sopping wet beneath the two of you. And if you squirt, Sevika’s going to get addicted to it and want to see it again and again.

“Sev- please-“ She rams into that spot again, hard silicone pushing that spongy button until a certain feeling hits you and you pause. “Sev I have to- I have to-“

“You gonna cum for me?” She pauses at your head shake. A hand grasps your chin to pull your head back to look at her leaning over you, normally cold eyes tinged with worry.

“I- I feel like I have to pee.” Your face heats but you manage to meet her eyes pleadingly. Your heart lurches at the widening smirk and you gasp as those hard thrusts begin again.

“You don’t. It’s okay,” Sevika cuts off your protests.

“Stop, Sevika please. Oh god-“

“God? Am I your god, baby?” 

You sob into the pillow, face on fire from the humiliating sounds and wetness squirting from between your thighs.

“Please Sevika-”

“What does your pretty little pussy have to say about it?” Sevika slows her thrusts, emphasizing the noisy, slick strap. Her lips press against your cheek when you give an embarrassed whine, leaning back to croon in your ear, “Sounds like she’s asking for more.”

[giggly-squiggily]

Helloo if req is open may you write a platonic tk fic between rin and sae if it is posible? Thank you so much!

Oh my god YES! :D These two need it, I swear! Okay so; general heads up: I'm exclusively an anime watcher when it comes to Blue Lock- meaning I don't really know how these two's relationship stands or what goes down during/post the whole U-20 arc; I just know they deserve to be happy. I hope you like it! :D

CW: Swearing, angst with a happy ending, sass, possible OOC-ness of the characters (I tried to keep it as close to their canon personalities as possible but yeah), Spoilers for Sae and Rin's backstory- kinda. Not full detailed ones but I'll tag accordingly anyway

Cloud 9 (Taglist):

@myreygn, @cupcake-spice13

“Hey, who allowed you to get so tall?” Sae narrowed his eyes at him.

“Genetics.” Rin shrugged, pushing down the toaster shelf.

If you told Rin Itoshi he’d have a relationship with his brother again in the near future, he would have told you to fuck off. Possibly throw shoes at you too.

Then he’d feel bad for throwing shoes because he was raised better than that, but still.

Things kinda happened in a blur since the U-20 match. A call had come; an invite to dinner. Then he was at Sae’s hotel room, splitting a pizza when the restaurant proved too crowded for either of them. Words were exchanged, a few tears were shed, and by the end of the night, Rin found he could finally breathe again in the presence of Sae.

They’re relationship was still fairly awkward at times; it was impossible to go back to where they were before Sae went to Spain. Still- when Rin called him and mentioned they’d gotten time off from Blue Lock, a room was made up for him at the apartment; clean and prepped with fresh bedding, as if it’d been waiting for him this entire time.

“No mint on the pillow?” He joked upon getting there.

“Please, we already have Shidou. We don’t need anymore pests.” Sae had rolled his eyes, the gesture lacking any real malice upon mentioning the demonic player.

That’s where they were now- getting comfortable in their newfound relationship.

“Tch.” Sae scoffed, shaking his head in mock disapproval as he turned from the coffee maker, mug in hand. “I remember when you barely came up to my elbow. You were so small- running after me on those stubby legs of yours, trying to kick the ball out from beneath my feet.” He shook his head, a rare smile tugging on his lips. “You’d get so worked up about it too. I’d have to buy you a popsicle so you’d stop crying.”

“Shut up, I was six.” Rin rolled his eyes, a blush burning his face at the memory. “Of course I was short. At least I grew since then.” He turned, raising a brow at his brother. “What’s your excuse?”

A look of shock passed his brother’s face, jaw dropped and brows raised. Rin felt a twinge of satisfaction. If the Press could see his usually stoic brother now, they’d probably faint. “I see you gained a mouth along with all that height in these past few years.” He sounded a touch impressed.

“More than you gained, it seems.” Rin couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t even that Sae could be called short; it was just so satisfying to sass him. He deserved it, probably. 

“Tall as you are, you’re still a little shit.” Sae put down his mug, rolling up his sleeves with a dangerous glint. “Seems like I’m gonna have to remind you just who you’re talking to.”

Rin ignored him- mainly due to the toaster popping, presenting his warmed Pop-tart. He should have known Sae didn’t make empty threats.

The moment his poptart touched the plate, hands were latching onto his sides, digging into his ribs with relentless pressure. Rin-much to his embarrassment- let out a loud squawk, the poptart nearly flying out of hand as he doubled over. “Gah! N-No! Dohon’t!”

“All this time later and you’re still ticklish?” Sae sounded deeply amused, a rare smile pulling on his lips as he carried on wiggling his fingers up and down the younger boy’s sides. “Maybe you should have considered that before you started sassing me.”

Rin went to retort with yet another remark, but Sae had found a terrible spot beneath his lower ribs, clogging his throat with growing giggles. “Ngh! N-No! S-Sae!”

“Hm? What, no retort?” The older boy asked, keeping one hand on Rin’s lower ribs while the other came around to his belly, clawing. “Come on- just laugh. You know you want to.”

That did it. Rin let out a wheeze before he doubled over, laughter bubbling over his lips as he tried sinking to the kitchen floor. “Fuuhuhuhuhuhuck! Fuhuuhhuhuck, gahhahahahahahha! Nohoohohoohooho, Sahahahahhahahe you ahahhahahahhahass!”

“Oi, show some respect, you brat.” Sae switched to digging into Rin’s armpits when his hips proved too far to reach, barely fighting down a chuckle at the harsh swear his brother let out, immediately followed by childlike giggles. “Look at you- you can barely say my name, let alone stand. Tell you what- take back what you said about me being short and I’ll let you live.”

“Nehehehhehver, shohoohohort stahhahahahck!” Rin declared without any hesitation. Ever the stubborn one.

Sae tsked, slowing down his tickles and giving the other a chance to breathe. “You really are determined to die today, are you? I’m starting to regret letting you stay here- how the hell am I going to hide your body?” He reached out, squeezing the back of Rin’s neck, earning a yelp as the boy scrunched up. “Maybe I’ll bury you in the backyard and plant a garden over you. Think Shidou would notice?”

“Prohoohbably not.” Rin groaned, and then- because he could. “He’s used to shitty things. That’s why he’s dating you.”

Sae, who was turning back to his coffee, froze, slowly looking back at Rin with scary eyes. Oh, he was DEAD. “And to think I was gonna be merciful this morning.”

Seconds later, Rin was kicked onto his back, Sae pinning him faster than he could react. He wasn’t much of a fighter- neither of the brother’s were- though Rin was faster to throw a punch. He went to do just that before a scream ripped from his throat, laughter returning stronger than ever. “GAHEHHAHAHAH! SHAHAHAHHAE!”

“I tried to be nice, but it’s clear to me that you’re still a little shit all this time later.” Sae scolded as he drilled his thumbs into Rin’s hips, going right for his worst spot. “Now- do you wanna repeat what you just said?”

“AHEHAHHAHA!” Rin was a mess, hands trying to shove off Sae’s vice grip as he thrashed and squirmed against the kitchen floor, feet kicking and scoffing the ground. His face felt like it was on fire, and his hair blinded him, hiding his scrunched up eyes. It was humiliating and stupid and he wanted to rip his skin off as a means of escape.

But also…it was fun. Really fun. He hadn’t felt like this since they were kids, when Sae would tickle him until he was squealing through tears caused by a scraped knee. He could almost see the fond smile his brother wore when he did so. The memory even during all this made his heart ache.

“Do you give up?” Sae asked, bringing him back to reality. Right- his death. A small part of him was tempted to shake his head, declare that he’d never give up just to see what would happen.

What came out of his mouth instead shocked both of them.

“NIHIIHIIHIHIIHI-SAHHAHAN PLEHAHAHAHHASE!” The squeal of mercy was the true end of it all. Sae’s hands stopped almost immediately, pulling away from Rin’s prone body. The younger boy scooted up the floor a few paces arms tossed loosely around his waist as he tried to catch his breath. Well, at least it was over-

Oh god.

Oh GOD.

“Shit…” He groaned, covering his face with his hands, mortified. He didn’t just say that outloud-he didn’t! Across from him, Sae was silent as stone, seeming to be frozen to the floor. Great- there goes any real progress they made at fixing their relationship. Rin readied the speech in his head. I’ll head back to our parent’s house. I’ll be fine. I’ll be gone in the morning-

“Heh, you haven’t called me that in years.” Sae spoke, his voice strangely soft. When Rin dared a peek, he saw it.

 It wasn’t as open as it was years before, but the same fond look was in his eyes, softening his carefully stoic expression immensely. A ghost of a smile was on his brother’s lips, not quite there yet, but it was something.

“Don’t remind me. God, that was- that…Fuck! You suck!” Rin growled, scooting back with a proper glare. Sure his face was still on fire, and his body was still tingling with a cross of tickly residue and nostalgia, but he was adamant on being angry. “What the hell? My Poptart-”

Sae then did the unexpected. He bursted into laughter.

“Pfft- Gehehhahahaa! Good god, aahhhafter all that, and you're worried about a POPTART?” He cackled, falling back on his ass as he held his gut, head thrown back and smile wide. “Good God, Rin! You haven’t changed at all.”

“....Tch, whatever.” Rin rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he fought down his own fit of laughter, the struggle increasing when Sae let out an ungodly pig snort. “Ugh, you’re so annoying.” He kicked his leg gently, too tired to stand. He felt light and breathless and exhausted and just…

“What’s up?” Sae shook his ankle, gaining his attention. “You look sad.”

“I’m not.” Rin ducked his head, hiding his expression. “I’m not. I just…I don’t know- I think part of me…misses this.” He waved between them. “I missed just…laughing with you, I guess. It all feels so far away, still.”

Sae hummed, considering. Then he stood, walking over and offering a hand. “It doesn’t have to be a distant memory anymore.” When Rin looked up, Sae’s face was back to its usual calm, but his eyes were kind. “I’m here. And I don’t plan on leaving again.”

“Promise?” Rin hated how small his voice sounded. He hated it more when he saw something break in Sae’s eyes, dark with remorse.

“I promise.” He sounded a tag hoarse as he ruffled Rin’s hair, breaking the tension. “Come on then, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Please don’t.” Rin cringed as he stood. “You can’t cook.”

“Do you want me to tickle you again?” Sae raised a brow. Rin couldn’t help but grin.

They ended up ordering breakfast instead.

Thanks for reading!

[afterdarkprincess]

Aftershocks Part 10

So tumblr kind of buried Part 9, its not showing up in any of the tags it should be under, but I'm not deterred.

Things are really heating up now, reminder that this fic is Explicit and my blog is not intended for minors. This did get a little kinkier than I intended, some of that came up in the last part but this section does include: oral sex, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, and non-negotiated kink. If thats not your jam, please do not read this. All that being said, lets jump back in here :)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Tags for @feelschicken, @jeyuwuso and @southerngirl41

---

Sami’s hands move down Jey’s body, fingers wrapping around the waistband of his briefs teasingly.

Jey’s brain is about to short circuit from the way things have escalated. He’s by no means inexperienced, but it’s never been like this before. All of his exes have been women, and the few men he’s slept with over the years haven’t really been interested in much beyond quickies in bar bathrooms.

That’s all he really thought he’d ever get. He certainly never imagined these feelings he has for Sami, never thought it would go beyond business and brotherhood.

He’s definitely never been called pretty before, never thought he would enjoy something like that. Some switch in his brain had flipped as soon as Sami started calling him baby, and all he wants is to prove to the ginger how good he can be.

But he can’t examine that now, not when Sami is effortlessly lifting his hips, dragging the briefs off his body, letting his dick spring free.

Sami makes an appreciative noise in his throat and Jey preens, arching his back in a stretch to show off the long lines of his body.

Sami’s mouth comes back to his body like a magnet, exploring the planes of his stomach, the divots between his muscles, teasing him with that wicked tongue of his.

It’s hard to concentrate with the pleasure running through his body, but he whines to get his point across, and Sami takes the hint to go lower to where Jey desperately needs him.

Jey’s fairly certain he’s never been this aroused before, strained and leaking, the head of his dick a dark purple. Sami is still torturing him, busy licking and sucking at the skin around his poor neglected cock, as he settles down between Jey’s thighs.

Jey reaches to grab ahold of the ginger’s wild hair but his hands are intercepted, wrists wrapped together in one of Sami’s big hands and pinned to his stomach.

“No baby, be patient for me,” Sami says, and as much as Jey wants to whine again, its overridden but the desire to be good and do whatever the other man asked.

He stills and rests his hands, takes a deep breath and allows the exhale to relax his muscles that have tensed in anticipation. He softens his hips, legs opening further in a display of trust.

Jey can do this, he can be good. He can give up control here.

“Good, just relax,” Sami’s beaming, slowly dragging his thumb in circles on Jey’s thigh. “Gonna give you what you need, you’ve been so good.”

Sami presses one more kiss to the open expanse of thigh before finally, finally, licking a warm stripe up the underside of his dick. He continues dragging his tongue around, like Jey’s cock is a popsicle melting in the summer heat. Jey can only watch in fascination, eyes glued to the sight, trying to burn this into his memory.

Without preamble, Sami wraps his lips around the leaking tip, digging his tongue into the head and lapping up the precum that’s gathered there and sending shocks up Jey’s spine.

Sami sucks his cock like he was born to do it, like there was nothing else on earth he’d rather be doing. He’s moaning, sending vibrations through Jey’s body and making him see stars.

The gingers fingers slowly spider from where they’ve been resting on his thighs, coming to gently cup Jey’s balls, rolling them one at a time while Sami’s head bobs up and down, taking more and more of Jey’s cock in his throat at each pass.

It’s too much and not enough at the same time. It’s the best blowjob he’s ever received in his life by a long shot but he feels empty and aching inside.

His first instinct is to bring his own fingers to his hole, the way he’s done whenever he gets a rare evening to himself without his brothers in the same room. But his hands are still pinned, and Sami did promise to give him whatever he needs.

As if he’d read his mind, Sami pulls off his dick, taking a few lungfuls of breath. “S’this good, baby? You wanna come in my mouth?”

Jey’s mouth is dry when he tries to speak, so he shakes his head no. “Wan’ you to fuck me,” It comes out mumbled and low, probably not loud enough for the other man to hear.

Sami pulls himself forward, capturing Jey’s lips in another kiss. Jey can taste himself and it shouldn’t even be possible to turn himself on anymore but he’s apparently breaking all kinds of records tonight.

“What did you say? Couldn’t hear that,” There’s a teasing tone in Sami’s voice, but Jey can’t be mad when Sami’s biting at his neck again.

“Fuck me,” Jey turns his head, burying his nose in Sami’s hair and breathing in the smell of his shampoo, “Please, wan’ you inside me.”

Sami raises up to look at him, wonder in his eyes. “I would love that, baby, especially since you asked so nicely.” His eyes shut a few times, as if he was trying to focus. “I don’t know though, I don’t think I have any lube with me, and I really don’t wanna hurt you.”

Sami rolls over to his side of the bed anyway, grabbing a bottle of water he’d brought in earlier and handing it over to Jey.

The water is cool in his mouth and feels amazing after how dry it had been from panting and whining. Jey swallows a few mouthfuls, and clears his throat. “Thanks, you should check the, uh left pocket of my bag though.”

Sami’s head turns abruptly to look at him. “Really?”

Jey nodded, setting the water bottle down on the bedside table and rolling to his side to watch the other man walk over to Jey’s side of the bed and rummage through the bag.

It only takes a moment for Sami to find what he’s looking for, a smallish bottle of lube thats about half full.

He looks up at Jey from where he’s kneeling, looking like the cat that got the cream. “What do we have here? Why would you have this in your bag?”

Jey feels a blush creeping up his face again. There’s no reason he should be embarrassed over having lube as a grown adult man, in fact he’s overjoyed he has it so he can get what he wants. But something about that tone from Sami gets into his head and makes him bashful and so so horny.

“I dunno,” He ducks his head, looking at Sami through his lashes as the other man stands.

Sami tuts, “You don’t know? It looks half empty Jey, I think you know what this is for.” He climbs onto the bed and settles back into the open space between Jey’s legs. Sami wraps a hand around each of Jey’s thighs and gives a quick tug before propping his ankles onto Sami’s shoulders.

Right where the tag belts would go, Jey thinks idly, but the thought is forgotten as he hears the cap open and watches Sami pour lube onto his fingers messily.

“Have you been using this to finger yourself, baby?” Sami’s hand disappears from Jey’s field of vision, the anticipation building when he doesn’t immediately get what he wants.

Jey’s hips buck and wiggle, but instead of Sami’s fingers in his hole there’s a loud smack against his left asscheek.

The whine that leaves his mouth barely sounds human, and he feels his cock dripping precum onto his stomach to the point where for a moment he’s concerned that he came untouched.

But his dick is still diamond hard, and Sami’s hand is rubbing the spot where his ass is now stinging.

“You didn’t answer the question- have you been fingering yourself with this?”

Jey nods, trying to regain his composure.

Sami smiles again. “Good boy,” and finally he feels a finger circling his hole, just gentle pressure but it feels incredible. “You’ve been so needy, huh? Needed someone to take care of you. I got you now, Jey.”

It’s hard to describe the feeling that washes over him at those words, Jey feels so safe and cared for and loved in ways he didn’t even think were possible. Like he’s been taken apart and lovingly put back together.

“Are you ready, baby?” Sami’s voice brings him back to reality, and the pressure against his hole grows a little, finger still passing over it in slick movements.

“Yeah, Sami. M’ready.”

---- WOO BUDDY- Next time they'll definitely be fucking :)

Marked this one as mature, because it definitely is, hoping tumblr doesn't bury it this time, but if it does, rest assured that this will go on AO3 in its entirety once it's finished.

This is definitely how I'm dealing with the bloodline's absence on smackdown this week. If you wanna yell about these two being horny mf'ers my DMs are open.

BYEEEEE