#Since I was with in the night I knew I could fend of any fucking intruders. Every time I

[shawnxstyles]

naked

DATE: JANUARY 8, 2023

summary: nathan drake was a tease to say the least. you couldn’t focus on work or chores with his constant sex appeal surrounding you. but a completely naked and nonchalant nathan drake, was an even bigger one.

request: please read the request as an additional summary!

words: 3.2k

warnings: SMUT (implied consent, praise kink, playful spanking and exhibitionism if you squint, dirty talk [slight degradation kink], kind of breeding kink, and unprotected sex) language, and very fluffy at the end :)

note: first nathan fic… this was supposed to be just smut, but i made the ending really fluffy and cute 😌 (the amount of times i’ve watched this gif is unholy)

—

Nathan Drake would be the death of you.

He was charming, with a hint of cockiness to always keep you on your toes. His smile lit up every room he waltzed in, which you hated to admit made your heart flutter.

During the many dangerous attempts at trying to find the forbidden gold, you two really connected. For the first few missions, you were always on high-alert as your trust balanced on a fine line. He could’ve ditched you at any minute and left you stranded to fend for yourself. But Nathan wasn’t like that. He stuck by your side and saved your life more than you could ever thank him enough for.

Yes, he’s lied and undergone deception, but it was all for the greater good. You were his greater good. If he never finds the gold, he knows that he hit the jackpot with you. Even if you didn’t know it.

Taking that next step in your relationship was the best idea you both have ever had. You loved Nathan for all that he was— except for one thing; a teaser. Nathan Drake was the biggest teaser ever.

A shirtless Nate strides around arrogantly nearly every day, making you swallow thickly when you gaze at his body a little too long. Sometimes, he’ll flex on purpose while you’re trying to focus on work. Or he’ll be handsy while doing day-to-day chores.

Nate loved that he had such a grasp on you. Today, he used that to his advantage.

He steps out of the steaming shower, barely dried with a towel around his waist. He doesn’t try to secure it as he walks out into the lounge area where you’re reading on the couch with a mug in hand.

You take a glimpse at him when he comes into frame and nearly choke on your coffee. You’ve seen his body countless times, but the sight will never fail to amaze you. Water droplets drip over his chiseled abs, sinking down his V-line and absorbing in his towel. He licks his bottom lip in amusement at your stare, waltzing past you and into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes and resume back to your reading that was nowhere near as interesting as Nathan’s body. You bet you could study an entire course about his structure, and you would excel with an A+. But that would be cheating because you knew his body like the back of your hand.

You knew that he loved to have his back scratched, nails digging into his skin until crescent moon marks appeared. He loved when you moaned his name, specifically screaming it. And Nathan loved when you fawned over his body. His body full of muscle was a temple you worshiped when he had his way with you. You loved praising him because everything you said was true.

Your mind flashes back to last night and all the previous nights where he fucked you into oblivion. You wished it was always that easy to have sex with him, but he always had to make it difficult to get what you wanted.

Typical Nathan.

Once your coffee jolts your system awake, you decide to do a bit of cleaning to get your mind out of the gutter. You call Nathan over to help you with the dishwasher, hoping he’s clothed. When he comes back into the kitchen, however, he’s still not dressed, even though it’s been hours since he took a shower. Actually, he’s less dressed than earlier. He’s wearing nothing but his birthday suit when he smiles at you softly, charm and fake-innocence floating around him.

Bastard.

You try not to avert your eyes down to his prominent member, knowing it will inflate his already massive ego if you stutter your words.

“I need you to help me with the dishes,” You state curtly, jaw slacking while you glare directly into his brown orbs. They’re filled with mischief and lust, positive he’s at least semi-hard. “You wash.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Nathan’s cheeks crinkle into a toothy smile, walking over to you. His hands cradle your face before he gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. Your clit throbs in time with the rapid beating of your heart. Arousal drips subtly from your cunt and into your panties.

He knows how much you love forehead kisses. God damn him.

He gets started on the dishes, handing you the cleaned items quickly. You bend down to slot them into their places in the washer, falling behind his quick pace. Once he finishes, he smirks at your position; bent over and vulnerable in a thin pair of cotton shorts. His cock pulsates at the view of your curves as you focus on the task in front of you. It was almost too easy.

“Need help, baby?” Nathan’s hands slide over your waist as his body hovers behind you. You inhale sharply at the feeling of him so close to you, causing you to freeze in place. He drags his palms to your hips, caressing the clothed skin teasingly. His thumbs are rubbing the top of your ass, wishing he would spread you open already. You bit your tongue before deciding that you can play this game too.

“I’m good,” After slotting a plate, you raise up and grab another. You purposely lean back into him, causing your ass to grind against his bare cock. Nathan is thick and solid, at his full size now that he’s fully hard. You try not to be affected by the tiny touch. He quietly hisses under his breath and you smirk as you move yourself in triumph. His fingers never leave your hips.

“You’re paying for that,” He squeezes your supple curves warningly and then lightly slaps your ass before waltzing away. You gasp, nearly dropping the plate. The dishes are disorganized and dislocated when you finish, too distracted by the Greek God strolling around the house.

—

Nathan didn’t stop there. He continued to help with house chores while being completely naked. He got handsy and he teased you to the brim. If you tried to reach for something up high, he would lift you by your hips and then slide his hands up your body when bringing you down. His minimal actions made you weak, but left you wanting more every time he walked away.

You took a deep breath before joining your zoom meeting. Even when Nathan was intervening in your thoughts, you still had work to do.

Nathan glances at your crinkled eyebrows as you concentrate on your computer screen. A monotone voice gives instructions while you nod along to his words. Nate loved watching you work. Your hard working ethic, determination, and intelligence were some of his favorite qualities about you. The head of his cock ticks when you bite your lip subconsciously in solid focus.

It was also one of his turn-ons.

He strides over to you as you type swiftly on your keyboard. When you notice him, you roll your eyes at his nude appearance, continuing to type away. He sits beside you, glaring.

“What do you want, Nate?” You ask through clenched teeth. You can’t help but peer down at his struggling member, rosy head with dabbles of pre-cum leaking from it. If he wasn’t such a tease, you would get on your knees and suck him dry.

“Nothing. You know, I love watching you work. You look so sophisticated and smart,” Nathan compliments as his hand wanders toward your thighs. He massages them, your breath getting caught in your throat. Nate knew you loved being complimented, but especially when it had to do with your intelligence. He is ticking every box today.

He slides his fingers up until they’re touching your aching, clothed cunt. Your clit pulses sporadically, legs tensing when his fingers brush over it.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Nathan taunts with a devilish smile. Nate’s thumb pets your clit through your shorts, making you moan softly. You disregard your zoom meeting, your camera and microphone already off. Spreading your legs wider, he doesn’t speed up or stop, continuing to torture you by giving you little to nothing. “Are you all wet?”

You answer in a shuddery moan, focusing on the small touch. You’ve been so horny all day, even this is getting you off. Fists balling on the keyboard, his fingers brush the folds of your cunt, still covered by your shorts and panties. You gasp when he presses two fingers where your hole is as you clench around nothing but your own walls. Sliding your shorts down, he reveals your soaked panties, tsking at the sight. He yanks them down and off your legs. Being the dirty man he is, Nathan spits into his hand and wraps the fabric around his cock, stroking deliberately. Your own hand shoots straight to your clit and fondles it, desperate to be touched by him.

“Y/N, are you there? The meeting is over,” Your boss informs with a clipped tone. Your eyes drift to the forgotten screen, widening when you remember you’re still in the call.

“Don’t stop,” Nate demands through gritted teeth, powerful eyes piercing yours. Trembling, you continue to rub your clit as you unmute yourself.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, goodbye now,” You sputter out before slamming the laptop closed. Nathan groans while stroking his cock with your wet panties, making you clench around nothing.

“Rubbing yourself while working. Naughty girl,” Nathan tsks, dropping the underwear and lifting you up with a smirk. You both stand face to face with each other, aroused and desperate, yet neither will beg for it.

Caressing your face with his rough hands, Nathan pulls you in for a kiss. His tongue roams your mouth and his lips ignite a fire through your body. Your hands lock on his hips and squeeze his ass teasingly. He growls in your mouth, almost biting your tongue. Your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck, tugging at the short hair. Grunting, he slaps your ass playfully in return before breaking the kiss. You lift up your tank top and toss it across the room, abandoning it. He spins you around and bends you over so your rear is right against his front. You catch yourself with your hands planted on the ground, feet steadying you.

His bare length slots between your cheeks, soaked in your arousal. Nathan rocks back and forth without sliding in, so you push back against him in a silent plea.

“Fucking drenched,” He hisses, grabbing a handful of your soft skin until he’s holding your hips sturdy. “Didn’t know you were such a whore.”

“You’ve been—fuck— teasing me all day,” You moan as he ruts his cock against your fluttering folds. “Walking around naked? Who does that?”

“That’s not a nice way to talk to the person who’s determining if you’re coming tonight,” Nathan slaps your ass a little harsher this time, making you yelp and grind against him harder.

“Nate, please just fuck me already,” You plead as the blood begins to rush to your head.

“That’s more like it,” He spreads your cheeks and slams into you. Your arms almost collapse under the pressure, too weak for his brutal thrusts. His balls slap against your ass while he pounds mercilessly deeper and harder.

Rough, calloused hands grip your hips, forcing you to take all of his length. You can feel the ridges of his cock in your cunt as he hits new angles you’ve never experienced before. Wails and moans echo throughout the house as your limbs tremble with pleasure. Your vision becomes starry and your head starts to pound from being practically upside down. When the weakness of your arms causes you to crumble beneath your weight, Nathan sweeps you up before you could fall.

The blood rush melts away as his face comes into clear view. With ease, he rests you on the dining table near your forgotten laptop. His muscles bulk and flex with intensity as sweat begins to form on his skin. His chiseled core contracts with each impel, making you wetter and wetter. He thrusts back into you without warning, causing you to shriek.

“God, you’re so hot,” You whimper while squeezing his thick biceps, nails stabbing his flesh. Gutturally moaning, he seizes more brutal ruts into you, making your eyes roll back. He leans down to mark up your neck in tattooed kisses.

“What about me is so hot?” Nathan huffs mockingly into your neck, his warm and gravelly voice melting you entirely. He loved being praised, and seeing him so affected only spurred you to do it more.

“Y-your muscles. You’re so strong,” Pathetic moans pepper out of your throat, dry and squeaky from screaming. He growls, plunging savagely rough into your cunt at the compliment. Arousal surrounds his cock when you clench snuggly around him, milking him deliciously.

“Such a dirty girl. My dirty girl,” Nathan grunts while your breathing heaves. “Come now.”

Your pussy tightens around his length, unable to control the rapid bliss that hits you hard the second he permits. Your jaw drops in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut in undeniable pleasure.

“Look at me. Wanna see your gorgeous face.”

You attempt to open your eyes as your orgasm releases from you in silent cries. Core contracting and nails scratching, your back aches into his torso while he nibbles into your neck. White liquid pours out, legs shaking as you fall from the high. His pace slows as you feel the twitch of his cock inside your walls.

“Come in me. Please, baby,” Your croaked voice pleads him to the finish line.

“Mm, need me to fill you up? Need to be nice and full of my cum?” His hands spread your legs wider, rutting deep and slow into you when you moan in affirmation. His shaft spasms and his balls tense before he releases ropes of cum into your cunt. You whimper at the sensation, closing your eyes in euphoria. He pulls in and out, pushing all of his sperm far inside to make sure it’s all tucked in.

Nathan stares up at you as your hands slide up to his neck. A weary, blissed-out smile reflects on both of your faces as you lean in for a kiss. Your teeth clink from uncontrollable, cheeky smiles and your fingers intertwine in his chestnut hair.

“You were a bit of a tease today,” You bit your lip, pulling away, but keeping him close enough where you can feel his warm, heaving breath on your skin.

“You love it though,” An inviting smirk danced on his lips while a tinge of pink decorated his cheeks. He lowers his forehead to rest on yours, noses brushing cutely.

“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake,” You hold back a goofy grin. “Sadly, I do.”

“Well, I hope you don’t say it like that at the wedding,” He chuckles and you gasp, swatting his chest playfully. You don’t want to act so surprised, but your eyes are shot wide.

“Do not mention wedding stuff! It’s only been… seven months!” With a pointed finger to his buff chest, he laughs it off with his hands raised defensively.

“But you’ve known me for ten!”

You were one hundred percent serious when you said you loved Nathan, you really did. But you never thought about a commitment until him. Not a serious one, that is. Although you two had a rocky start, he changed how you viewed the concept of relationships entirely. Your guard was constantly up, a barrier you created over the course of your life after being disappointed again and again. Nathan and you traveled various distances and battled challenges most people in their life will never face.

But he showed you that it was okay to live and to love because the risk of the fall doesn’t always end badly.

It wasn’t even directed toward you, just typical Nate inspiration, but that was a key quote you will forever remember. It was from your second (failed) mission together, when you were ‘stranded’ and waiting for Sully to ‘rescue’ you both (he just needed to bring the boat around). He opened up to you, like it was second nature to him. You envied how easy it seemed to pour your heart into a stranger who could possibly abandon you. But Nathan always had faith. And maybe his faith in you was right.

Maybe Nathan was the one who you’d say I do to.

You didn’t doubt him. You doubted you.

“I wouldn’t say it like that,” You whisper against his swollen lips, face blank with a million thoughts soaring behind your eyes.

“What?” His forehead crinkles in mild confusion while his hand caresses your jaw delicately. Curiosity and a hint of hope float within his irises, but it could just be your imagination.

“I would… be happy to say I do. I wouldn’t hesitate to say it. Well, I might, but only because I’d be nervous,” You heart thudded against your ribs and your palms began to feel clammy. You laugh awkwardly, anxiety infecting your body. “Why am I nervous now? I’m just imagining it— and now I’m rambling about nothing—”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. I’ve imagined it, too,” Nate reassures with soft touches on your cheek, smoothing your hair over. “I pictured you in a long, white dress with an open back. Long, laced sleeves because I know you’d find that classic and elegant. You wouldn’t have a long train because you wouldn’t want to trip over it. I imagined that day to feel greater than any gold.”

Water glossed over your eyes as you fought back tears until you were swallowing thickly. You hadn’t expected him to have it all planned out. But again, Nathan always plans ahead. He’s always two steps in front of the average person. Another thing you loved about him.

You envisioned his description, finding only near-perfection in the way he thinks.

“Are you joking? Because I will find some creative ways to kill you—”

“I’ve never been more serious. Y/N, I knew from the first day we met that we had something. Whether we were partners, best friends, or dating, we were meant to be together. Don’t you think?” Both of his thumbs rub gentle circles across your supple cheeks, warm from the immense love circulated around you.

“I didn’t at first. Not like you did,” You smiled, remembering the awkward first encounter when Sully introduced you both. You were young and mischievous, and Nathan was also young, but also very trusting, which challenged your judgment. You didn’t even know of his existence a year ago, but ten months later and you feel like you’ve known him a lifetime. That’s got to count for something, right? “but now I understand that you’re right. We were destined to meet— Did you hear what I just said? Your sappy shit is influencing me!”

His beautiful, hearty laughter breaks the tension and pulls at your heartstrings when his skin crinkles to adjust to his expression.

“But you love me and my sappy shit, right?” He pecks your forehead, making you melt into a puddle right in the palm of his hand.

“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake. Sadly, I do.”

—

hot??? cute??? hopefully :D

[reedles05]

The Responsible One

Michael had been odd ever since arriving in Santa Carla. Not a day went by where he acted like he did before the move. Being the oldest sibling meant a lot of things, one of which was taking care of the others when Mom couldn’t. During the entire divorce, you had been there to watch the other two, to make sure they were provided for while Lucy mourned her life moving on. 

And here you were witnessing the downfall of one of your brothers while the other was thriving. Sam had gone and even made friends that were as weird as he was, they had come by and gotten him to hang out while you were home. They were lovely boys, kind and respectful when meeting you. You had waved them off, telling them to be safe and have fun, the streets were dangerous after all. Normally, you would have advised against going out, but Sam needed time away from you. So, you had let him go, but not without something to have on hand in case something were to go awry. You had handed him a pocket knife, not something super dangerous, but something to fend off anyone with ill intent. He had shot you a look, the one where he was insinuating you were being overdramatic, but had taken it when you glared. You were relieved when his friends had awed at you giving him such a weapon, telling him how lucky he was for having you on his side. 

And that had put them in your good books. Sweet kids, Sam was lucky to have them. 

But Michael has been leaving in the night, not returning into early morning. You were worried, admittedly so. You were worried he was hanging around the wrong kinds of people, the kinds that had drugs on hand at any time. Even trying to confront him didn’t do anything, he only grew frustrated at being cornered by both you and Lucy. So, you did what any sane and concerned older sibling would do. 

Follow his ass. 

He wouldn’t get out of this so easily, making Lucy cry was on the list of ‘NO.’ 

And he knew that, so why was he going and doing things that were doing exactly that. 

Dressing yourself to avoid catching his eye, you listened to the tell tale signs of Michael leaving the house. The cracking of the window and the silence that followed. 

So you raced down the stairs and watched as he departed. He was quick, you’d give him that. You chased him all the way down to the Boardwalk. And watched as he met up with four men leaning on their bikes. He conversed with them, laughed and smiled until one of them wrapped an arm around his shoulders. A grimace crossed his face, and so you moved. 

Stepping with purpose, you strutted up to the men and pulled the blonde away from your lovely brother. 

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get your nasty hands all over my darling brother, Micahel.”

Michael had tensed, eye widening once he recognized who had saved him from David.

He stuttered, trying to push you away before the others had really gotten a chance to take a look at you. But it was too late, and the men leered. Taking in your appearance, the vampires watched as you scowled at them, especially David. He had been the one to put his hands on Michael, and you had watched it as it happened. 

“I’m sorry, doll, but who might you be? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

David leered. And the rest watched as you remained as you were. Hand still in place on Michael’s shoulder, you scoffed. 

“I just told you, I’m Michael’s older sibling. And he was clearly unwanting of your hands being all over him. Fuck. Off.” 

And David laughed. 

Paul leaned in, eyes tracking every minute detail of you that he could.

“Older sibling, huh? Mikey boy never mentioned you, babe.” 

You looked over at Michael, trying to discern the look he was wearing at the moment. 

You nudged him, prompting him to speak.

“Any reason for that? I thought I was worth mentioning to your dearest friends. You do spend more time with them than you do us anymore.”

Michael opened his mouth, but was cut off by another one of the unintroduced men. 

David interrupted him, pressing a finger to his lips to shush him. 

“He was brushing off someone so hot just to hang with us? How cruel of you, Mikey.”

Marko had been the one to speak, pushing off his bike and approaching you. 

He had gone to reach for you, but Michael’s hand intercepted it. 

God, this was going to be an experience. 

–

David opened his arms, gesturing to his band of boys. Motioning to each one as he introduced. 

“This is Paul, Dwayne, and Marko.” 

You nodded, noting their names and pulling along Michael. 

“Great, we’ll be leaving now.” 

The one said to be Dwayne had stopped you, stepping in front of you and ceasing your escape. You looked up through eyelashes at him, a scowl overcoming your face once more. 

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave without knowing your name, lovely.” 

Paul sauntered over, grabbing your arm and pulling you into him. 

“So..?”

“No.”

Michael went to speak but you glared, pointer finger held up to cease his talking. 

“I refuse to give you a name until you explain what’s going on with my brother and you all.” 

David smirked, eyes sharpening. 

“Alright then, we’ll explain everything. Let’s take a ride, boys.”

And that was all they seemed to want to hear, as their laughs started to sound out across the clearing. 

Marko threw out his hands.

“Who do you choose to ride with?”

“Preferably, none.”

But you had to admit, the boys were handsome, and roguishly charming. It was just the fact that they were somehow blackmailing Michael into staying near them. If not, you would gladly spend the night with any of them…or all of them. 

David laughed under his breath, but you saw the gesture. Sucking your teeth, you pointed to Marko. 

“I choose the wild curly blonde then.”

Marko looked shocked, pointing to himself before smiling wide. Cheering, he raced to your side before hauling you up bridal style. Screeching, you held onto his shoulders before slapping his back. He laughed the whole way to his bike, and once you made it, he dropped you on the back. Dropping in front of you, he looked back and smiled. 

“Hold on tight, gorgeous, we’re gonna be going fast.”

And that was all the warning you got before he took off faster than you’ve ever gone before. 

It was…

Thrilling. 

[katuschka]

Everybody's Got a Secret

Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

3.393 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: This is filth!, mild erotic asphyxiation, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (both f and m receiving), light bondage, masturbation, dirty language, sub&bratty&cheeky Joshua, open relationships

Masterlist Taglist

My doors were always open, and no questions asked. Everybody’s got a secret, and in this particular case, in this time and space, his secret had my name.

No strings, no obligations. Both of us had those already somewhere else. Both in long-term relationships with other cocks that just weren’t always available… or able. Hence the arrangements were made and doors were opened…

When my husband was out of town, which happened more often than not, I spent my days in my downtown apartment, because I hated the big and quiet country house when he was not in it, playing his piano or keeping fit in his basement gym. Always a hopeless romantic, an old soul in a mature body, he made sweet love to me in that house. With his kids already raised and gone, he offered me a new chance, away from the abuse and sorrow that was my old life. He gave me an opportunity to pursue my dreams and a new home in that big, silent mansion. Always grateful, I cooked his meals and did the laundry there. 

And we both knew that it was not enough. I would do anything for that angel of a man. He couldn’t do everything for me. But that’s ok. Everybody’s got a secret, and he willingly granted me mine. I wasn’t delusional either, I knew there were other women… 

So, as long as he didn’t know the details, I could do whatever I wanted in my cherished hiding place, the only condition being that I pay my rent. Fair enough. More than fair. It was a place where I reigned, after all. The big house was my home only as long as he wanted me there, but that was it, that was the agreement, too. So I eventually learned to fend for myself in every way. That was our mutual goal. One day, I would be alone again. I was almost sure of that. But thanks to him, I would no longer be lost. 

It was a bit different with Josh. He had almost everything since the day he was born, and he gained even more as the years went by, simply because he was talented and brilliant and surrounded by his equals literally since the days he was still in the womb. He had people. He had love too, and they were almost a perfect match, save for just one tiny little thing. Josh was a shameless slut, always on a hunt for a healthy dose of naughtiness and depravity. Josh loved dirty fucking, he loved to experiment and he needed his fix from time to time.

His man just couldn’t force himself to do it. He only made love to him. He also didn’t have enough holes. Or meaty pillows. Not exactly Josh’s preference, but a welcome bonus when it just clicked. To keep things interesting, he said. That was when I entered the building…figuratively speaking, because I never EVER crossed the threshold of their house. Secrets don’t do such shit.

He knew about my existence, and that was ok, as long as he didn’t know my name or my face. The sentiment was mutual. He didn’t want to meet me, see me, acknowledge me. Ever. Josh made sure he wouldn’t. 

So, my doors were always open and Josh called whenever he needed. This time, my phone rang at 2 a. m..

It was a 45 minute drive from his place to mine, depending on the traffic. At night, it would be less, but still enough time for me to get ready. So, when he rang my doorbell at last, I answered in his favorite vintage slip dress, holding two glasses filled with wine. Like a valley doll. 

“Well, well, well, what brings you here at this ungodly hour?” I teased, watching him grin at me in return. 

“Stupid question, darling,” he answered, while running his finger gently down my bare upper arm. “The reason remains the same. You’re a comfort blanket for my dick, and I need you to do some ungodly things to it tonight.”

“That’s a lovely sentiment. So you need to have your dick comforted?” I snickered and handed him his glass and he nodded in appreciation, taking a sip without breaking eye contact, pursing his lips around the rim with the tip of his tongue sticking out just a tiny bit. He always did that when he wanted to communicate his neediness. “What happened? Trouble in paradise?” I cooed, while making room so he could enter.  

“Don’t ask, and I shall not lie, remember? But since you asked so nicely – no. I have had some trouble with certain lyrics. I need my muse. Will you help me?” He wasted no time, already making a beeline to my bedroom. Pausing at the door, he glanced back at me, fishing for the answer he didn’t need. Of course I would. 

“Always there,” I chirped again and stuck my tongue out at him playfully, following him without haste.

Pausing in the doorway, I leaned against the door frame and took a sip, watching him unzipping his fly already. He was always gorgeous, whether dressed in plain white cotton or embroidered organza. But preferably naked. Lean, but not skinny. Toned, but sweet. Bare like a statue…until he raised his arms up and I fainted. Always. 

“Eager, aren’t you! So no small talk today, I assume?” I was eager too, knowing what was coming. 

Always a tease, he rolled his hips lewdly and, glancing at me through the ridiculously long curtain of his eyelashes, he puckered his lips, inviting me to join him by the bed with a loud and playful smack. “It’s not a day, darling. We’ve no time to waste before the sun comes up and orders us to be elsewhere.” 

A fucking poet, sometimes spitting dreamy verses down at me even in between moans during the actual animalistic process of fucking, like a true artist that he was. I watched how he batted his eyelashes at me again. Ridiculously long, indeed… “Did you put some mascara on, Josh?”

“And if I did?”

I licked my front teeth in silent anticipation. He was needy and ready to play the mouse, which in return made me greedy and instantly wet. Meow! “Joshua! Do you want to cry tonight?”

After he took off the last sock, he flexed his shoulders and straightened, facing me completely; already stark naked and already completely hard, his second weeping head nodding at me, greeting me like an old friend. “I voiced a plea, and I gave you a hint. You’re the director tonight.”

The plan formed in my head the moment he called. Even before that, actually. I’d lie if I said that I didn’t care about what he did for a living and how. Watching videos of him performing was one of my favorite leisure activities when he was away and out of touch. It made the anticipation ever so sweet, because his stage presence was just as sensual as his bed behavior. I knew what he was capable of, while others only imagined. 

“Did you bring your payment with you?” The word payment was a deliberate, whorish choice, completely ok only because I was the one who started using it one day, and the only one allowed to use it. God forbid if I’d ever heard it leave his mouth. He’d have to dry hump the mattress instead, and let me watch his torments. He loved the whore in me, but alas! The only way to get a taste of it was to treat me with respect. Night-time calls meant that he would have to grant me one wish, often in the form of a prop.  At night, I was ALWAYS in charge, giving him what he wanted, but it was always delivered my way. 

This time, I ordered him to bring one of his beaded scarves he wore onstage. Now he pulled it from his man purse and placed it in my waiting hand ceremonially, like a cherished treasure, smiling at me with little sparks dancing behind his pupils. “Am I going to be tied up with this?” 

“Oh no baby, I have my handcuffs for that.” He watched me swirl the scarf around his head and tie it tightly around his neck, leaving one end long enough to tickle his left thigh. Swinging it like a pendulum, I let the heavily beaded end hit his throbbing cock with a faint tinkling sound. 

I reveled in watching his immediate reaction: his eyes widened and lips parted in shock. He quickly tried to hide it by darting his tongue out and curling it against his upper lip, but his heaving chest betrayed him. This was when he was at his cutest, figuratively or literally on his knees, but always too stubborn to give in entirely.

“See, I’m gonna use it as a leash, if necessary,” I explained and took a small step back to admire my work. “Don’t you like the idea?”

He narrowed his eyes at me and those plump lips curled up into that bratty grin again. “Oh I like the idea very much. I’m ready to be…bad.” 

“Bad,” I whispered,and circled him like my prey, which is what he essentially was. Hugging him from behind, I let my hands travel up his chest, grazing his right nipple with my fingernails while the fingers of my left hand closed around his throat. “Bad boys don’t whine,” which was exactly what he did when I applied a little bit more pressure. He tilted his head back and rested it on my shoulder, eyes closed, showing me how much he loved being under my control. 

“You look really lovely like this. Makes me think… You know what we haven’t tried yet?” I was now intentionally rubbing my lace-covered tits against the tense muscles of his back, whispering those words sultrily right into his ear.

“No…” It was but a hoarse whisper already. It was fascinating how much power his voice normally held, but I always managed to gag him with ease. 

“I'm thinking… pegging you from behind, doggy style. With this,” I tugged at the scarf demonstratively. He yelped, his knees buckled for a split second and his whole body shook as if from cold. He was stupendously aroused. I loved it!

“Yeah, exactly. Like a bitch,” I twisted the end of the scarf around my hand and tugged again. The most delicious whimper escaped his lips and I watched him wrap his right hand around his twitching cock, while the left one reached behind and rested on my thigh. He gave himself a few slow strokes, then slid the hand down to cup his balls. “Oh yeah, please, do that, I’m already aching…”

“I’m really glad you like the idea, baby, but not today. Another time.”

“Why not?” He turned around and tried to win me over with those puppy eyes, but I had a very clear vision in my head. It had occupied my mind so much that I already bought some new additions to my bedroom inventory, just for him. I grabbed the scarf again and drew him closer to me so that our lips were almost touching. I tightened my grip, holding the scarf right under the knot below his ear, and twisted my fist slightly. He swallowed with difficulty and his wide eyes glimmered with undiluted lust. I licked his parted lips with the tip of my tongue until his eyes rolled back. Only then I finally released him and he stumbled backwards.

“Because you wanted me to do ungodly things to your dick, not your ass. Now onto bed, chop chop.” I smacked his tiny, perfectly rounded ass and he obliged, climbing on the bed with exaggerated sway like a tomcat, performing just for me. He turned around then, and spread his legs, licking his index finger lewdly while he shook the end of the scarf with his left hand until the beads tinkled again. “M’waitin’,” he breathed out and moaned around the finger. Such a slut!

I took one more sip, stripped too, and joined him on the bed, climbing right in between his thighs, admiring his cleanly shaven treasure. “You have a truly beautiful dick. It absolutely deserves some profane treatment.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it,” he responded, his voice shaking ever so slightly when I pressed my tongue flat to the underside of that gorgeous cock and licked a long stripe all the way up. I laughed. “So humble.”

“Darling, I’ve seen many cocks in my life. I know mine is awfully pretty.” 

“Hmm, how about you balls?” I cupped them gently, while crawling up to kiss him, tickling his chest with my hair.  

“Also exceptional.” He kissed me back, then pushed my head back down. 

“That’s why you keep them on full display all the time?” I bent down to lick around his areola before I sucked the nipple in between my lips, still refusing to go back down and suck on his cock instead, even though he bucked his hips up several times, giving me a clear hint how impatient he already was. 

“Flaunt…aaah…flaunt what you’ve got. God, you’re such a tease.”

His tone was dangerous this time. I looked up to meet his deadly, bratty stare. “You’re in no position to look at me like this.”

“Yes, I am. My thigh is completely wet from how your cunt already weeps for me.” He made another lewd gesture, putting his fingers in a V shape in front of his mouth and sticking his tongue through it at me, flickering it up and down. Yes, very suggestive. I’d love that. Continue and we’re both gonna get it. He usually got a warning first. 

“You’re a hoe, Joshua Michael.” I grabbed the scarf and pulled to the side. He inhaled sharply with a wheeze and looked daggers at me.

“Go on, I love high praises,” he spat. “Especially when they’re coming from your dirty mou…uuughn...” I didn’t let him finish the sentence. He would get what he asked for. Scrambling up as quickly as possible, I landed on my knees on each side of his head and sat on his face, effectively silencing him.  

And it was what he wanted. Grabbing my buttocks to pull me even closer, he instantly buried his tongue between my folds, making me gasp. I had to grab the headboard to keep myself from falling or hurting him as he enveloped my clit with his full lips and started sucking. This position was my Achilles heel and he got me there in no time. Two, maybe three minutes until my thighs started shaking. I looked down at him and he wiggled his eyebrows at me, before he closed his eyes and moaned loudly, as if he was eating the most delicious ice cream. Fucking tease. I inhaled sharply when he flattened his tongue and swirled it gently one more time around my swollen bud. The orgasm swept through me like an electric shock and I had to bite my forearm to muffle my scream. He was cruel, licking me through it and inducing more and more waves and aftershocks until I had to grab him by the hair and pull at it to still him. 

I creeped down his body, smearing my juices all over his skin and peppering his chest with kisses, before I straightened up again, hovering above him. “Tamed?” 

He looked up at me, ready to retort again, and finally saw the big silver hoop that hung from the ceiling right above my head. His eyes widened and sparkled with confused anticipation. “What’s that?”

I let out a satisfied exhale and smiled down at him. “That, my dear, is the surprise I got for you tonight.” I crawled towards the edge of my bed, opened the largest drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a silver chain with leather cuffs on each end. I let it fall on his chest. “Sit.” 

“What?”

“I said sit!” When he did, I pulled the chain through the hoop and told him to put his arms up. He was unnaturally silent all of the sudden, doing as told, and I fastened the cuffs around each wrist. When I was done, he just sat there, legs spread as I knelt between them, chest heaving and arms up, armpits glistening with sweat, just the way I wanted. He looked sinful. I admired this view so many times before, him reaching for those high notes or who knows what else. He would be reaching for pleasure tonight. First things first. I tugged at the scarf and pulled him closer to me, connecting our mouths in a searing kiss. He kept moaning as our tongues danced together. It made me even wetter. 

When I finally broke the kiss, I looked down at his cock, slightly reddened and rock hard, and ran my finger down his length. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered. “Do something…please!” 

Finally, the magic word. 

He cried out when I put him in my mouth and swallowed him whole. I could hear the chain rattling but I couldn’t see, lying on my stomach and fully immersed in giving him pleasure. He cried some more, and moaned and groaned and whimpered as I kept bobbing my head up and down, up…swirling my tongue around his leaking head, and down…tickling his balls with the stuck out tip until I gagged. I stopped only when his hips started jerking upwards, telling me he was very close. I wasn’t done yet, not until I felt him in me. 

I sat up again and saw the smeared mascara under his teary eyes. “Oh my baby, so beautiful,” I cooed and caressed his cheek, smearing it even more with my thumb. He looked exhausted and pursed his lips at me. “Please,” he whispered. 

I finally straddled him, positioned myself and slid down. His mouth opened wide but no sound came out. It made me pause for a second, raising my chin in a silent question. “Won’t last long,” he breathed out, so I started slowly, rolling my hips languidly, while I watched him watching me. The room fell silent, only our synchronized breathing permeating the air.

He looked down at the scarf, then back at me again, his eyes full of wicked gleam. I threw it over his shoulder and tugged at it from behind, making his head tilt. His ragged breathing and his barely noticeable, but content smile made me feel high. The intoxicating smell of his heated body made me even more lightheaded.  I hugged him tight and traced my parted lips up his jugular as I quickened my pace. His moans broke the silence again and I followed suit. Running my hands up and down his back, I could feel droplets of his sweat trickling down my biceps. I never believed in heaven, but this was close. Even closer to hell, maybe.

He wanted to take control, but couldn’t. Not without his arms supporting him. He was completely at my mercy and when I leaned back on my arms to get a better traction, the head of his cock hitting my inner pleasure button made me cry out. It didn’t take long and the spasms of my second release made me clench around him. In my high state of mind, I nearly missed his moment. Only his high-pitched scream pulled me back to reality. I had barely enough strength in me to untie him at last. And then we collapsed on the pillows, completely spent and happy. 

We often cuddled afterwards, we always showered together, but he never stayed. The sun was already rising when he left this time. I buried my face in my pillow to inhale his scent that always lingered. Falling asleep to the sweet and heady smell of Chergui was great comfort in twilight hours. Many times, I imagined what it would be like to just rest my head next to his and drift away like that, with his messy curls tickling the tip of my nose. Someone else had this privilege. Someone who loved him, and thus deserved it. 

In the middle of the night, I was sometimes honest with myself, admitting to myself that I loved him too. But that’s ok. Everybody’s got a secret.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names

[j0elmill3r]

Emotional Motion Sickness

Pairing - Joel Miller x Daughter!Reader, Ellie Williams x Miller!reader

Summary - Joel relives the worst night of his life when you are critically injured.

Warnings - Violence, blood, injuries, angst, sad Joel

Word Count - 2.5k words

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I wanted to tell you that I love your writing❣️ and by the way, I wanted to ask you for a petition for Joel miller x daughter! reader. Where his daughter is almost on her deathbed and has Deja vu with what happened with Sarah.

A/N - Okay what's going on? Why am I so motivated to write? Anyway, as always, thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! Feedback, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Joel Miller Masterlist

You'd basically begged your dad to let you come with you, despite being 23 years old, Joel still very much babied you. You sometimes wondered if he still thought of you as the same person that you had been at the start of the apocalypse, an innocent child entirely dependent on her father - He made you think that he couldn't come to terms that you had grown up in this world, having had your entire childhood robbed from you. But if you were being totally honest, you didn't really know anything other than this world, and that's why you thought you bonded with Ellie so well, thinking of her as your younger sister - A bittersweet thought for Joel, since you were a younger sister, even though you had no older sister anymore and were now older than her, it was funny, you were now older than your older sister. He liked to think you and Sarah would share the same bond at that age that you and Ellie do now, even as adults.   

You looked over to the bed Ellie lay in as you heard her giggle to herself - That stupid joke book, you thought to yourself, but hey, it was the little things in this world. She looked over at you.

"Hey, do you wanna hear a joke?" She asked you. You turned over on your other side to look at Ellie and nodded, knowing that you didn't really have a choice in the matter. "Okay, Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" She started.

"I don't know, why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" You amused her. Ellie giggled to herself before continuing on with her joke.

"Because he was outstanding in his field," You shook your head as Ellie continued giggling. There was something oddly comforting in her jokes, they reminded you of the ones your dad used to tell you when you were little when he was trying to get a smile out of you when you were grumpy. "Your dad doesn't find my jokes funny." Ellie whined. You laughed and shook your head, laying on your back.

"To be fair, your jokes are pretty bad," You broke the devastating news to her, hearing Ellie gasp, and you smiled in amusement.

"I, am gonna go to sleep now and pretend that you didn't say that," Ellie told you. "Goodnight, traitor." She said, trying to sound as offended as she possibly could.

"Goodnight, Ellie," You told her. You tried to go to sleep but felt a settling unease in your stomach that you couldn't explain. You knew you could never shake off your gut feeling, which was why you couldn't sleep. You couldn't seem to switch off, your brain running at a mile a minute, unable to shake off the unease settling in your stomach. The day had gone too well, considering your dad's reunion with your uncle Tommy had gone to plan, there hadn't been some catastrophic fuck up at all during the day, somehow unsettling you. Then came a thud from the front door. Quietly, you crept down the hallway towards the door, your body and breath shaking with each step you took. Another thud. This time, you didn't know if it was coming from the door or your heart thumping in your chest.

Thud.

Crash.

Before you had any time to think, a runner came launching through where the door once stood on its hinges, then sprinting towards you. You screamed out for your dad before being body slammed to the ground by the runner, trying your best to fend it off and protect yourself from being bitten.

"Dad!" You screamed out, fear evidently clear in your voice. Joel woke up at your screaming, immediately reaching for his gun as he ran out of bed and to the room that you and Ellie were sharing, where the aforementioned girl lay sound asleep. Running down the stairs, Joel found you fighting for your life. Without hesitation, Joel fired two shots into the back of the runner’s head. You quickly shoved the body off of you and scrambled to your feet, running to your dad and wrapping your arms around him. Joel let out a sigh of relief as he held you.

"It's okay, look at me, Y/N," Joel demanded softly. You met your father’s worried eyes with your tear-clouded ones. "Did it bite you?" He asked you, in a serious, yet comforting tone. You shook your head in response, rubbing your eyes of tears. It went quiet for a minute, only for it to be replaced by that terrifying clicking sound. More gunshots went off. Bang. Bang. It didn't matter how many times you experienced a hoard of infected, the fallout never ceased to terrify you. Joel knew that, feeling that your breathing had become quick and shallow. "Okay, go and get Ellie, we need to get out of here, okay?" Joel had both hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes. This was when he remembered that you deep down, were still a scared little girl.

"Okay," You said quietly, your voice trembling as you looked out of the front door, more gunshots ringing off in the distance. You went back upstairs to wake Ellie up, giving her a gentle shake at first. "Ellie come on, we need to go," You told her. She groaned in response, turning to her other side. "Ellie, I'm being serious. There are runners everywhere." Suddenly, the girl found the energy to get out of bed, quickly jumping into her shoes and slinging her red zipper on. You both ran down the stairs and out of the house, into the open air where herds of the infected runners overtook the commune. You looked around frantically for your dad or uncle Tommy, sighing in defeat when you found neither, deciding to quickly grab Ellie's hand and make a run for one of the trucks you could both take refuge in until it blew over. However, on yours and Ellie's beeline to the row of trucks, you heard one last gunshot ring out.

You stopped dead in your tracks. Everything had gone silent, but then it all came back, the blood rushing to your ears, Ellie yelling out for your dad, your dad calling out your name. You didn't know why, had something happened? Was there something behind you? And then you realized, the blissful unawareness of the gaping hole in your stomach dissipated, and was now replaced with excruciating pain.

"Joel!" Ellie cried out, her eyes filling with tears as she watched you collapse onto your back, hyperventilating as you clutched at your bloodied stomach. "Hurry!" She cried panickily, kneeling beside you. Joel came running over, skidding onto his knees beside you.

No, no, no! Sh-sh-sh-sh, okay, you're okay. Y-You're okay, move your hand, baby. Move your hand.

Memories of your sister’s death came flooding back to him, only it was you in the exact same position, 20 years later.

"Y/N, hey, come on, it's okay, look at me," Joel said loudly over your hyperventilating. "I need to pick you up baby, you're gonna be okay," He promised you, putting his arms under you, wincing as you cried out in pain.

I know, baby, I know, I know, I know, I know! I know it hurts. All right. Don't look down, look up, look up. Come on, baby. You're okay, you're okay…

You continued crying in pain as Joel ran back to the house, carrying you in his now blood-soaked shirt. You'd gone pale, shaking as you grasped at your dad's shirt. Tommy followed in suit as you were taken back to the house that the three of you had been allowed to stay in for the night before continuing your trail to finding the fireflies. Tommy swiped everything off of the table so Joel could lay you down on it. The commune's doctor came in with a first aid kit, rushing over to you.

"I need everyone out," She said, looking at your dad, Tommy, and Ellie. Joel wanted to scream at her. No. He wouldn't leave you alone. "Now, please, or she's going to die." The three had never left a room so quickly, but for Joel, everything was going in slow motion.

"I know, I know, I know, I know, baby. I know, I know! I know this hurts. You're gonna be okay. All right… Baby, baby, baby, listen to me—I gotta get you up, okay? I gotta get you up. All right? You c'mon. You c'mon."

You grabbed his arm the same way that she did - as if it were the only thing keeping you alive at that very moment. Joel sat down on the stairs, dropping his head into his hands, leaving Tommy and Ellie clueless about what to do. Tommy knew what Joel was thinking, he still remembered the night of the outbreak, remembered holding you, only 2 years old at the time - 4 days shy of your 3rd birthday - as your sister slowly died in your father’s arms.

She continually gasped, both for air and in pain as Joel tried to pick her up.

"I know, baby! No, no. I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know! Tommy, help me!"

Tommy watched on helplessly, holding an increasingly distressed you. Although you weren't quite old enough to comprehend what was going on, you knew it wasn't good - You could hear your sister crying and gasping, but Tommy held you chest to chest, you didn't need to see what was going on.

"Joel," Tommy said tearfully, looking over at his oldest brother and oldest niece, who now lay limp in her father’s arms. Joel looked back to his oldest daughter.

"C'mon, baby girl. C'mon, baby girl, I gotta get you up. C'mon! C'mon, we'll get up! C'mon, baby girl, wake up! C'mon… come—please," Joel gave up begging, collapsing to his knees in tears. Tommy put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and it was then that Joel realized how distressed you were. "Give her here," Joel sniffled, rubbing his eyes and nose as he held his arms out for you. He held you close as you continued sobbing.

"Daddy," You cried, clinging to your father as though he was your lifeline. He put his hand on your back, trying not to let the tears in his eyes spill over as he rubbed your back.

"It's okay baby girl, daddy's here, I've got you," He assured you, sensing your fear. "It's all gonna be okay baby girl, I promise." Joel didn't know who he was assuring, him or yourself.

The tension was thick was the commune nurse came out of the dining room, coated in a layer of your blood. She made eye contact with Joel, remorse written on her face.

Oh, no.

You had ended up staying longer in Wyoming than the three of you had hoped for, but there was no way it could have been prevented, given that you had been put on ordered bedrest for at least 3 days, but Joel had made you do 4 - Just in case, he had said. Ellie had been more clingy with you than usual, which had reminded you that despite how hardened she liked to act, that she was still only a child who had been unfortunate enough to be born into this world.

You knew the night had been traumatic for your dad, resurfacing painful memories of Sarah's death, you didn't know if your dad would have recovered if he would have lost you in the same way he had lost her. Joel sighed as he watched you limp into the kitchen, holding your stomach as you did.

"Good morning," You said quietly, hobbling over to the chair so you could sit down. Joel shook his head at you and handed you a glass of water, and your last antibiotic. "Thanks." You popped the pill into your mouth and took a swig of water, then swallowing both.

"You're supposed to be in bed," He gently scolded you. "Another day resting won't kill you." He said. You sighed and shook your head, you knew why he was being like this, he just didn't want to lose you, he had already lost so much to this apocalypse.

"Dad, I'm fine, honestly," You assured him, looking up at him as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Just still a bit sore." You said, rubbing your stomach as you moved. You had to be careful of how you moved, just in case you tore your stitches.

"Please go back to bed, baby," Joel pleaded with you. You knew he wouldn't relent in trying to get you back onto bed rest, you sighed in defeat and nodded. "Thank you, do you need me to carry you up the stairs?" He asked you. You blushed in embarrassment as you nodded - what 23-year-old still needed her dad to carry her to bed? Well, obviously you did since your large intestine had a slight tear in it. You whimpered slightly as he picked you up, and you saw the guilt immediately flood onto your dad’s face.

"'M fine," You mumbled, holding onto him as he carried you up to his bed. You didn't question it, but accepted it for you were in need of some comfort, and if sleeping in your dad’s bed gave you it, then so be it. You saw an amused smile on his face as you looked up at him, quirking a brow in confusion. “What?”                                                                                                                               "What's' Forrest Gump's password?" He asked you, a small smile on his face.

"Huh?" You asked, confused at who this Forrest Gump character was.

"1Forrest1," He finished. Then you realized - Ellie's jokebook, and how he used to tell you dad jokes when you were sad to try and cheer you up. You giggled at the joke as you looked at your dad. "You have no clue who that is, do you?" Joel asked you, laughing as you did.

"Not one at all, old man."

[lamamasjamas]

A/n: I made angst and depression on top of the ask oops (Anon is from my side blog which has now been "deactivated")

Warnings: Dub-con smut (Reader is not in a good mental state), heavy angst, he's so sexy grandpa, short drabble, mentions of addiction/drug use as well as withdrawals, Manipulative Joel, dark fic!!

"Don't."

Tess turns at his sharp tone and eyes him. Joel glances at the whites of her eyes from his peripherals. She looks up, her pupils pointed to the sky, her tongue pressing against the side of her cheek in mock annoyance.

"Why not?"

He stares off into the distance with his shoulders tense and his arms crossed in contemplation. The QZ was always an option to him and Tess. They could come and go as they pleased, they could leave if they wanted, together, maybe even make things work between them once and for all.

"She likes you, always has," Tess mentions referring to the addict that keeps coming back to him.

They had met years ago, barely twenty-two, already asking for some drugs, any drugs that could take away the images in her head, the thoughts that kept her up at night and made her afraid of herself.

She quickly became addicted to Joel as much as the stuff that he gave her. He likes that she keeps coming back to him like a dependency. He would never admit that to anyone though.

"You like her too, so what's the big deal?"

He sniffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"She's young, she doesn't know what she likes, what she wants-"

"She's thirty-three, Joel."

He finally turns to her and gives her a look. She sighs. Convincing Joel of anything seemed to be completely useless at this point. With age, his stubbornness only increased. Most of the time she had found the appeal to it, the fun and lust for the thick headedness of his actions.

But she's tired and frankly, with her own age, the original spark had gone dull.

"You'd rather she be with some other fuck in the QZ?"

She knew where to hit him, where his anger would rise the most. Joel was always jealous, ever since they met. When Tess had been able to get in contact with someone over the radio named Frank, he felt acid in his veins.

Good thing Frank wasn't interested in her, not in the way he originally thought.

He scowls.

"Oh c'mon Joel, you've fucked her before, haven't you? It will be fun, I'm sure she'll want to do it again."

He stays quiet, she pushes on his shoulder lightly, starting to chuckle.

"Just open your palm and she'll come running like a little‐"

"Don't‐," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, turning back and stepping down from the small hill that overlooks the fallen jagged cityline.

"She doesn't deserve to be spoken about like that," he mumbles, as if he had more morality than her.

Tess hums, wanting nothing more than to have finished her sentence, aching to remind him of how much you were already wrapped around his finger. In some sense you really were, judging by your raspy moans and heady breaths a month ago, the last time Joel had seen you and coincidentally the night he had told you to stop seeking him out.

"Such a Gentlemen. See? You won't have to try so hard."

He gives her another look.

"We need this, then we might be able to get out of this place."

...

Withdrawals were a pain in the ass. Some moments you shake, having to hide your hand behind your back, biting your lip so hard it made you bleed, just so that officers wouldn't shoot you at the slightest twitch of a hand.

Other times you feel fine, your mind numb, cloudy but not enough to incapacitate you from your work. The worst is when your home, when you can't distract yourself with the flames and foul smell of rotting or burning flesh.

Being stationed in charge of the disposal of all of the infected bodies came with needs, and those needs could only be fulfilled by Joel Miller. The man who had left you to fend for yourself and deal with your sudden loss of drugs and supply.

You hated Joel, hated the way he made you believe he had actually cared about you. It's been a month, no pills, no nothing, only you and your thoughts.

Now you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your body covered in sweat and itching with discomfort. There's a knock at your door, the same one he had told you would signify his arrival.

Now you were hallucinating, thinking of the damn bastard that had left you feeling sick and deprived. Your mind was numb, your body needing something, something to make your skin sing, your veins to sting with pleasure even if for just a moment.

You think of his hands and the door knocks again. Your own fingertips travel down to your breast, pinching your budding nipple through the fabric of your ssweater. You hear your name, out from his own lips and calling for you in his voice.

A shiver rolls down your spine. Your hands slip down your stomach and towards your folds, spreading your legs, imagining his head between them, kissing up your thigh, commenting on how the taste of your pussy was enough compensation for the ache of his knees and back.

The dip of your fingers wasn't enough, your brows furrow, they weren't as thick as you wanted, the way it should be.

"Open. It's me."

The door shakes with another bout of banging. You almost fall to the floor. Your eyes start to water and your heart races. For a few moments, he hears you shuffle around, cursing under your breath and ultimately breathing in deeply.

You open the door, and his eyes soften, just a little. Enough for you to see the slight guilt and especially enough for you to feel the pity he had for you.

"What do you want?"

His eyes rake over your form, you wore nothing but a tattered sweater, the one he had given you and that he found while scavenging outside the QZ.

Your voice was weak, you pull your sleeves over your fingers, bitten raw and meaty. In your mind, you had yelled at him, screamed and pushed him by the chest to show your anger, frustration and betrayal.

Your hands start to shake as he makes his way inside, his eyes giving you a once over at the blank look you had. He sits at the edge of your bed. His face was stoic, still stern. He looked as though he didn't bring himself to your apartment, as if you were making him sit his ass down to tend to his wounds like all of the other times.

"C'mere."

You don't move, your skin starts to itch, anxiety builds in your stomach. His mouth barely opened; he grits his teeth as he repeats his command.

Seeing you like this made him angry. Your eyes were sunken in, your body looking sickly and frail. You weren't taking care of yourself, and it was all his fault.

You move forward and his hands wound around your waist to help you straddle his hips. Your hands instinctively move towards the breast pockets of his flannel, he slaps them away.

"I need something."

You ignore him, now clawing at his jean pocket, looking for a little reused baggy of baby blue or white pills. He takes your wrists and holds them so tight you flinch.

"Listen to me."

He was like a snake, moving his head languidly in front of your face until you had finally given him eye contact. For a few moments you scowl, your eyes were clear in their anger.

He felt you. The real you. Then you looked down submissively, attempting to keep still against him, despite the way your body shook in tremors.

God, he ruined you. He shifts his thigh, pushing you slightly back so that you weren't as flush against his chest. Your legs split between his leg as he adjusts on your bed.

Your breath hitches when your cunt spreads against the rough denim of his jeans. He watches as you lick your lips, he feels the way you dampen the fabric underneath you.

He stares at your lips, remembering the time he made you swallow down a pill with his cum still held in your tongue. His eyes soften and his palm meets the sweaty, hot skin of your cheek.

His thumb pushes in, he can't help it. You suck automatically, expecting there to be sweet chalky dust littered on his fingertips.

"Need you to do me a favor..."

Your eyes tear up and you suck harder, your hips starting to twitch back and forth.

"Have some friends working for Robert, yeah?"

You don't respond, he already knows. You feel a pit of anger build in your lower stomach; you pull yourself away, but he keeps your hips in place.

His thigh bounces up against you and his finger pops out of your mouth to grip your chin. He looks down at you softly, his eyes trailing down to your lips before leaning down to devour them.

His hand cups the back of your neck and his thumb tilts your head up. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue traveling further as you moan as his other wandering hand massaging into the side of your breast.

He breaks the kiss slightly, thick spit trailing over your lips as he kneads your body and flexes his thigh. His eyes search over your face as you start to roll your hips and your eyes flutter closed.

"C'mon baby... I'll give you what you want if you just tell me."

You swallow thickly and lick your lips. His hand lowers between your legs, a knuckle brushing against your cunt and circling over your clit, glossy with your slick and pulsing in time with each grind of your hips on his thigh.

His lips trail down your neck as you nod slightly.

"Y-yeah..." you trail off, only speaking with an exhale.

Your hands reach the back of his head as he bites down on your shoulder, humming as you finally answered his question. He looks up at you from there, tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose under your chin.

He helps you shift closer to him, your eyes closing tightly and your lips pursing as you contained your moans of relief and pleasure at his touch and the sudden closeness of another body against yours.

"Heard they found a battery..."

You nod and lean down to kiss him again, a whine escaping your lips as he tilts his head to the side and you inevitably miss.

"Joel-"

"Know where it is, honey?"

The slightest flinch of your brow, the question developing in your head and showing through your eyes made him hesitate. He kisses you again and you're distracted.

Minutes later he has your pussy squelching, your neck and jaw covered in love bites and your hips bruised with his grip. Your back meets his chest as your hips work over his thigh.

His fingers were furiously swirling over your clit, his other hand holding your neck steady as he mouthed over your neck.

Your body shakes and he feels the way your cunt pulses in orgasm. A garbled moan escapes past your lips and you feel the way his chest rumbles in a chuckle.

Joel's mouth doesn't stop, his lips start to suck harshly against your skin, making it bruise tender, your skin resulting in raised bumps.

You realize, as he tightens his hands on you and shakes himself, that he missed the feeling.

"Fireflies," you mumble against his chest. Your body was laid on the covers, his laying on his side beside you. His hands caress over your neck, he nods and sighs in what you think is relief.

A couple minutes later he sits up, your eyes close and you feel the cold brush through your body again. The tremors come back and the twitch of your fingers towards him were weak.

He leaves something on the bedside table, you hear the shuffling of his jeans and a wet cloth against your swollen cunt. It almost feels as if you were on the precipice of sleep.

You feel lips on your forehead, the wetness of them leaves an uncomfortable feeling on your skin. The door opens and closes softly.

As you lay on the mattress, finding that he hadn't even left his scent behind on your pillowcases, you realize something else. You stare at the baggy full of pills, a little more packed than the usual he would give you.

He's gone and he used you one last time.

A/n: Fun fact, I was listening to Fog as a Bullet by The Marias...but I don't think anyone cares anyway :)))

[thedeviltohisangel]

Fall For A Shooting Star//Cassian Week 2024: Day One, Flying

a/n: So many people were expecting my first foray into ACOTAR fic to be my Azriel novel and that is coming too I swear it. I just saw it was Cassian week and knew I HAD to participate. I've had Cassian and Thea rolling my head for a bit and I have more plans for them so anticipate this being a little one shot series. Over the week I will introduce to them you further. I hope you all like it!

tw: allusions to physical abuse

Windhaven was as it always was. Snowy and windy and filled with the sounds of swords clashing and men fighting. It was home, for all its flaws. The canvas tent she shared with the other females her age would no doubt do nothing against the weather when she finished her chores and retired for the evening. 

Thea was at least thankful she was on cooking duty tonight. It gave her an excuse to be close to the fire and not incur the wrath of Lord Devlon. He had been keeping a careful eye on her ever since the incident from last week. It had earned her ten lashings that were still tender across her back. It also hadn’t helped that they’d rip her one cotton shirt to bare her skin and she was left with the scratchy, stiff fabric of the laundress who had been kind enough to lend it to her. She would have to figure out a couple of replacement garments soon. The eyes of the males finishing their training for the day told her that they knew it too. 

“I heard Cassian got a siphon today.” That was Scarlett, her closest friend in Windhaven. “He came by looking for you earlier.”

“It must have been while I was at the healers.” Every morning Thea had trudged across the camp for the healers to spread a thin layer of salve across the scars of her whipping. The scars from the loss of her wings had healed over many moons ago. Scarlett furrowed her brow as Thea continued to stir at the pot and begin to prepare herself for the leering that came from the males lining up for dinner.

“Something happen between you two?” Normally the mention of his name would send Thea into a flush. Now she was gritting her teeth and looking like she could snap the ladle in half.

“No.” Thea paused. “No. I just-”

“I’m hungry, wench.” The metal bowl was thrust forward by the warrior, knocking the breath from her as it found a landing against her stomach. 

“Apologies, Emmett.” It was always better to show fealty. Then they were less likely to find an excuse to beat her later. He took a step closer and grabbed the collar of her dress.

“You best learn to keep your mouth shut before I get any ideas on how to fill it for you.” His eyes looked her up and down like he was hungry for more than just stew. Thea shivered. While she hadn’t been able to fend off the loss of her wings, she had been successfully fighting every day to keep herself from a marriage or a bedmate. Cassian’s shadow had certainly helped. “That bastard doesn’t seem to be coming back for you any time soon…Maybe I’ll take my chance and pay you a visit tonight.” She did her best to hold his gaze. To not flinch when a wicked smile spread across his face. Everything had to catch up to her eventually. And he was right. Cassian wasn’t around to protect her anymore. Not with his completion of the Blood Rite and receipt of a siphon and a war looming on the horizon. 

And Thea had pushed him away for that exact reason. He deserved to be free of this place. To live his life with the heir to the Night Court and the Shadowsinger. Together they would be formidable. Make a difference in all their lives. The burden of her would do nothing but drag him down. Cassian deserved to soar.

“I’ll rip your fucking throat out if you even think about it, Emmett.” Yet he always happened to know exactly when she needed him. The male had the nerve to laugh. Cassian took a step forward but Thea threw her arm out to stop him.

“Don’t, Cass, he’s not-”

“Fucking son of a whore.” Emmett spit the ground by their feet. “Your mother get whipped for your behavior the same way she does?” Scarlett physically choked at the statement. Thea felt the blood drain from her body. She knew she should turn and face him. Explain what it was the Illyrian was talking about. But she couldn’t find the necessary skills for her brain to talk to her legs.

She felt the growl in his chest as it pressed to her back, his arm wrapping around her waist. “Thea,” he whispered into her ear, “Take a deep breath.” He exploded into the sky, her hands grabbing at his forearm as the war camp disappeared beneath them. And if anyone asked she would say the tears streaming down her face were from the cool air and not the release of emotions that always came with flying. From being with him. 

He banked to the left and arced until she recognized the flat patch of dirt that overlooked Windhaven and the white valley below. It was a place of solace on the occasion it was just the two of them. A place he hadn’t even thought to share with Rhys or Az because it belonged to him and her.

Thea tucked her knees into her chest as he landed firmly, his arms not loosening their hold around her in the slightest. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” she whispered after a moment of silence. “I was hoping my back would heal before I saw you again.” 

“Your back…” 

“They didn’t care that they were lashing over my older scars if that is what you are asking.” 

“Why?” She blinked back more tears. Anything to not tell him why they had punished her. 

“Because I used the dagger you got me to get one of the newer camp members to leave me alone. I cut him and he didn’t like it.” She found the courage to spin his arms, gasping as the red siphons gleamed on his hands. “Scarlett said you got a siphon. Not two.” Cassian bristled as she distracted herself with a soft caress of his hand.

“Seven, when I’ve got my armor on.”

“Cassian, that must be a new record. Gosh, the look on their fucking faces when they gave you seven siphons. I could only imagine.” Thea smiled and, despite better judgment, brought the back of his hand to her lips. “You’ll get your own legion in the war. I’m sure of it.” He was a born leader. A skilled fighter. She could think of no one better to lead the Illyrians into battle against Hybern.

“We’ll see,” he murmured. “I’m sorry the dagger got you in trouble but I’m not sorry, and will never be sorry, that I taught you to protect yourself. And you should never apologize for doing so.”

“Soon you’ll all leave for the front anyway. Windhaven might be peaceful for once.” Thea fell against his chest and his lips pressed into her hair. “You don’t need to come back, Cassian. Go with Rhysand and Azriel and make this world a better place.” She was giving him permission to leave her behind. To move on from whatever thing lingered in the space between them and unleash himself across the sky. 

“It’s not coming back when I’m taking you with me. Right here.” He pointed at his chest. 

“Do the siphons amplify your levels of sap?” she teased with a smile. 

“I’m not kidding, Thea. Wherever I go after the war, I’d like to bring you with me. If you’ll have me.” He had thought about marrying her years ago when she had first bled to keep the rest of the camp away from her. But then they had removed her wings and she’d been sent away to heal and the timing was never right. After the war, Cassian would force the fucking Mother to time it right if he had to. 

“Only if you promise to fly me out here whenever I ask. Just us. Our own sacred corner of light.” His wings flared and his head bowed. 

“With every breath and heartbeat I have, I promise.”

Hell would be awaiting her at Windhaven when she got back. Of that she was certain. And the hell of war would be awaiting in the coming days. Of that she was certain. But there was something on the other side of all that. Tantalizing and taunting. Urging her to dream and hope and believe that the after was possible. 

And what a dangerous thing that was.

@cassianappreciationweek

[halloweenbitch2764]

Hello! Could you write Bubba Sawyer x GN!reader headcanons for if the reader accidentally overworks themselves with chores, farm stuff, and self-studying (like learning medical stuff or anything else useful to help the boys) until they’re too exhausted from not eating or sleeping to fend off an escaped victim? Also bonus points for the Sawyers and especially Bubba scolding the reader in the end after the angst. Sorry this is super specific! Thank you so much <3

Yeah for sure! I hope you enjoy!

Bubba with an Overworked S/O

Really it wasn't hard to overwork yourself if you weren't paying attention

Between all the chores and the Texas sun you were lucky if you DIDN'T get heat exhaustion

Hell you only got to see Bubba at night and ever so often in passing

You mainly kept the house "nice"

Well, as nice as a bunch of cannibals will let it be

You also tended to make meals when it came time

However, during the periods in between, you'd be doing stuff outside

There weren't many places to escape the blazing sun and the shade of the trees only did so much

When you had extra time you'd be studying books about medicine and how to treat certain wounds

You'd manage to take pills from dead victims so you needed to know what exactly they were for

However, being so busy and therefore overworked, you failed to notice how you started skipping meals

Hunger and heat exhaustion were a terrible combo

But you didn't sleep great at night since there was no A/C and you'd get lucky if a breeze would come through

And you weren't about to sleep naked with the men (minus Bubba) in the house

It all came to a head when a victim got loose one day

She had managed to escape Bubba and tore through the house and then outside in a direction that wasn't civilization

Not that you'd say anything

You were hanging clothes to dry when she ran up to you

She pleaded for help

You felt bad for her but not enough to do anything

"Sorry lady, can't help ya." You went back to hanging stuff up when she pressed a knife against your throat

She seemed to have been able to grab one from the kitchen

You dropped the basket and immediately tried to shift away from the knife

You were so tired between your chores and not sleeping and the escaped woman was nearly feral, fueled with adrenaline and need to survive at any cost

Including ending your life

"If you don't tell me how the fuck to get out of here I'll end you right here!"

Your mind was too panicked to know what to do

Flight or fight and instead you chose a third option, freeze

You couldn't betray Bubba by saying anything

Before you could move she was ripped away from you and the knife was dropped

You let out the breath you were holding and saw her get dragged back to the house where Bubba would likely be vicious

She had almost hurt you after all

You finished hanging the clothes and headed back to the house

It wasn't long after you had arrived that Chop Top ushered you into the living room

"What?" You were confused as you sat down

Bubba was even there and looked concerned

He pointed towards where it had happened and you knew what he wanted to talk about

"Why didn't you try to fuck that lady up like you have in the past?"

You knew why

You just stayed quiet and looked at the ground

Bubba sighed and hugged you tightly

He couldn't be mad at you

Especially after everything you do for them

He pushed you to the kitchen to get something to eat

He sure as hell noticed your lack of eating on top of your tossing and turning at night

He pointed to the fridge and put up one finger to signal you needed to eat first before making a sleeping motion and two fingers to show you needed to go sleep after

"Bubba I'll be okay-"

He cut you off with a shake of his head and disapproving noise

Bubba was stubborn when he wanted to be and you knew it better than anyone

You sighed and nodded

"Alright Bubs, I'll do it."

He made a happy noise before kissing your forehead

He kept you company while you ate and headed to bed with you afterwards

"Don't you still need to do work?"

He shook his head 'no'

He could finish everything tomorrow

He wanted to spend time with you

And make sure you actually slept

[femmethpipe]

Red Water | Harringrove

Prologue: I Gotta Know What’s Inside You

Summary: Billy’s avoided Steve Harrington like the plague since that autumn night of ‘84. He’s given the fucking weirdo and the even weirder fucking kids their space just as Max demanded, and it’s worked for nearly a year.

He’s only got until his graduation until he can fly straight out of Hawkins without so much as looking back, but after leaving his beloved Camaro wrapped around a tree and his father’s hand on his shoulder heavier than ever, Steve Harrington, an alpha he knew he could never have, won’t fix that.

But things are never that simple.

TW: everything

Steve’s been driving with a grip so tight, his knuckles were bone white.

Billy steals a glance over at him at every possible moment. At the taut string that’s pulled the alpha’s shoulders into a defensive line, at the blank ominous stare he’s been giving the road for the past ten minutes as they drive further and further out of town.

It was one of those days where Neil wanted him out of the house. A dreary Sunday afternoon had somehow kept both Susan and Max from venturing out altogether which meant that Billy’s presence had to go, preferably without even stepping into Neil’s line of vision which left him to fend for himself while the temperatures dropped. Something about the cold and unforgiving dying that happens in Midwestern winters has never sat right with Billy, but he’s always been fascinated by it; the way everything dies in an explosion of color then rots on the ground. Overhead, the clouds are an ominous gray and the thunder rolls like a strike every so often.

Steve takes a backroad, one that’s twisting a bit too much for the fragile and flighty feeling in Billy’s head and bones. An Oingo Boingo tape blares way too loud and every nerve inside of the omega’s body is jumping, but he keeps it that way. He should turn the music down and ask Steve where he’s taking them, but he bites his tongue.

They were supposed to meet for their usual routine of the alpha feeding Billy and pretending not to notice any bruises the omega probably acquired over the week, after they’d park and smoke and talk. It was the one lifeline the blond had, his reprieve through a piss poor week and his one chance to relax—or relax as much as Billy could two feet away from Steve Harrington.

The dangerous truth was the omega felt like he could finally let go around him. His warm scent and big soft eyes that held no hint of judgement or betrayal. But today is different and Steve has barely said a word to him. Billy climbed into the car to the familiar and potent scent of aggression, but none obviously directed at him. Just looked him all over for way too many seconds too long, long enough to make Billy hesitate shutting the door. That seemed to bring Steve out of whatever trance he’d been in to ask the omega in a hoarse voice if he was okay. Which he was answered with a smart quip about if Billy looked alright.

Truthfully, the omega knew he looked like hell reheated and it kept his knees drawn so far to the right, his temple throbs from knocking against the window. His back burns with embarrassment that he’s wearing worn jeans with scant holes from his thighs rubbing together and the sweater Steve obviously gave him two weeks ago while the logos on the other boy’s clothes that he rightfully owned were about two tax brackets higher than Billy would ever see in his lifetime. His curls are messily pushed behind his ears and in desperate need of a brush though he should know by now Steve doesn’t give a fuck about that shit, that it wasn’t about that. But the deep need to attempt to look presentable, maybe even attractive didn’t forfeit the omega’s mind.

Fucking pathetic.

Billy knew it was. Finnicking over his looks just like he did that night he took out all his issues and problems on Steve, only now he’s shivering in the alpha’s passenger seat like a cat he found on the side of the road, and trying not to feel the butterflies in his stomach when he catches the brunet looking over at him.

The car is suddenly very still and the omega rips his eyes from the veins on Steve’s hand. They were outside of town, Billy knew that much from how long they’d been driving, but another factor about the shitty Midwest was that it all looked the fucking same. Flattened garbage litters the concrete ground and etiolated weeds jut from the cracks. A few faded yellow parking lines stood out just barely below the wet leaves and the trash that Billy could identify as pieces of red solo cups, Fireball shot bottles, and numerous beer cans. Nothing but towering, dying trees ahead of the dim lights of Steve’s Beamer with the clouds above darkening by the second.

The engine’s steady rumble dies as the alpha twists back the ignition. It kills the radio and plunges them into an uncomfortable silence that fills Billy with a cold dread that could no longer be kept at bay by the blasting heat.

The omega watches the bob of Steve’s adams apple where he swallows thickly. “We need to talk about what the fuck happened, Billy. I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep—“

Billy’s heart drops to his ass.

The alpha lets out a frustrated growl, one that takes him aback at first, but Billy will be damned before he allows an alpha to know he was intimidated.

“Keep fucking what, Harrington? What the fuck do we need to discuss that requires you to drag me out to the goddamn sticks?” The blond’s teeth bare and he wants Steve to snap his own back; juvenile, volatile, wishing for punishment because anything was better than beat around the bush, prayer circle sympathy.

Steve’s wide eyes stare at him from across the car like Billy was a sheet of glass. Right fucking through him since day fucking one.

Emotions stir under Billy’s skin and much to his dismay, there wasn’t much anger left for him to muster and use to fight his way out of this. It would have been easier that way. Scream in Steve’s face that he’ll kill him if he ever tells anyone Billy Hargrove gets fucked by his own dad after getting the shit stomped out of him. Then maybe slam his car door hard enough to shatter the window as if it would make him feel better.

But he knew it wouldn’t. Billy’s learned that plenty.

The man across from him takes in a deep breath like he’s steadying himself and Billy supposes he is. He wonders what that’s like, thinking before action, being smart enough to not fly off the fucking hinges at the change of an emotion and controlling himself.

I can’t keep doing this. The raw blister of betrayal pangs in his throat. His chest feels concave, unsurprised yet he’s never been accepting of being left behind before. This time wouldn’t be any different despite every emotion in his body swaying Billy like a storm every time he saw the Beamer parked somewhere waiting for him.

The omega had been telling himself to await the day that Steve’s eyes would linger too long somewhere they shouldn’t, that maybe he’d even be sympathetic enough to kiss him on the mouth once or twice, but inevitably he would only be welcome to the backseat in due time. One day, he’d told himself countless times over the past few months, but not today. It was the one thing Billy thought he had a penchant for, knowing when his time was up and his welcome was nearly overstayed. Car rides spent with only music and cigarette smoke between them on long roads and shared milkshakes and hot meals and warm blankets—He’d been almost fooled.

But he would have let him, something like Neil laughed at him every night he’d have the audacity to dream of something more between them. Billy would have let Steve do whatever he pleased if it meant closeness and the absence of the looming dread of loneliness. And let the humiliation afterwards burn as painful as the hurt from the alpha’s perfidy.

Billy’s grin splits in a sardonic smile that mirrors every ounce of his winded and broken pride that could no longer mask his hurt. He huffs in fake amusement and his words fall like feathers in a dead wind rather than cutting like the knives they used to be, “I never fucking asked you for anything, not a goddamn thing.”

A heavy sigh plummets from the brunet and behind his eyes, the omega can tell he’s thinking over everything with the same stubborn resolve he’s always had. It makes Billy dig his nails into his palms.

Placid eyes stare dead ahead into the dying foliage and settling clouds. He shakes his head in denial, “That is not what this is about,” Steve’s eyes dart to his seat then back at Billy with a puppy dog exhaustion that made the omega only more irritated, “Why is it always that with you? Why can’t I just be fucking nice to you without you thinking I’ve got one out for you, or some shit?”

Because that’s how these things work, Billy knew simply.

There wasn’t a way on earth Steve was that clueless as to what they looked like around each other. What people had been saying. What the entire world thought of omegas like Billy Hargrove and what they hung around for.

The omega draws a sharp breath, one that hurts his ribs and burns on the way out, “Jesus fucking Christ,” Billy bites out in a breathy, frustrated mumble before he finds that last string of red, that one remaining vein of gasoline to blow as he lights the match, but even then— “If your charity case work and taking care of unfortunate poor kids isn’t getting your rocks off anymore, maybe you should just take me the fuck home.”

“You don’t get it, Billy, I can’t go back to just fucking watching, I won’t.”

“Watching what?” The blond challenges, fucking spit it out.

“Why won’t you just let me take care of you?”

“What’re you trying to say, Steve?” He whispers the man’s name into the cold air between them.

A year ago, he would have been whatever cheap insult came from Billy’s rolodex first, months ago he would have just been Harrington. And it makes him want to blow his brains out that even just saying some alpha’s name meant so much to him; even worse when he knows that Steve knows that.

God, he always fucking knows.

Pretty boy sticks his nose in business that doesn’t have anything to do with him. Always ready to be someone’s knight in shining armor and even worse, Billy wants exactly that. Without deserving it. Aware there’s some shit even Steve’s heart of gold can’t fix.

He looks ready to say something, but the omega stops him dead in his tracks.

“I won’t suck you off or let you fuck me,” Billy spews like a busted beer can and God, if that’s not a lie. “If that’s— I know you don’t just give a shit. And I know that you know I don’t have anything else to give you. We’re not here for no fucking reason, so you can just say it and we can be on our merry fucking way.”

Because that’s the thing. Wild parties, tight jeans and tight shirts, fast car—Billy’s fucking poor. He’s loose, if anyone off the basketball team and cheer squad have anything to say about it. Steve should be running for the hills before he ends up making a decision he can’t take back.

“It’s not you saying this shit, Billy. I know it’s not.” The alpha’s face is painted in an emotion he doesn’t recognize, but then he’s turning in his seat to get even closer.

“Look at me.” Steve commands and Billy should tell him to fuck off, that he doesn’t take orders from a fucking baby alpha, but he tries.

Looks right at his soft brown hair that reminds Billy of the big redwoods in California when the light hits it just right. Broad shoulders covered in denim and wide, warm palms that didn’t feel like shackles when he’d grab Billy’s wrists. Steve’s scent was so potent in his car; burning wood and spice and smoke that fogged up his brain until he was so confused he thought he was safe.

Steve grabs his hand, so gentle yet his hold firm, and the sudden intensity of the alpha’s eyes meeting his own is too much. His hand is warm, but then again everything about him is.

“If I made you feel that way, that’s sure as hell not why I care about you. I mean, fuck Billy—I don’t just give people my clothes, alright?” Steve’s voice is filled with a desperate exasperation. “I don’t just stay up until the middle of the night driving people around while they try to fall asleep in my backseat, okay?”

A heavy sigh empties from the other man’s chest while lungfuls of the alpha’s scent burn Billy’s like whiskey. He looks just as tired as the omega feels for a second, but then he’s holding him tighter. “I thought my intentions were obvious for a while now.”

Steve lets the words hang in the air and he doesn’t let Billy go. It’s not like he wanted him to.

But he still has to try to pull away and aim his eyes out at the dying wild around them, only the alpha won’t let him go. It makes his heart sing. “Who told you that shit, Billy? Him?”

More and more, the dam of tears building in his eyes readies to spill over. They burn and bite at everything Billy thought he knew about himself. He prepares for the world to end, to stop turning and burn up in fire and ash, but only the patter of rain begins its descent from the clouds against the windshield. His throat is filling with cotton balls, but he’s not going to be hit; nothing is hurting at all. He nods his head and suddenly, the gate busts and the flood comes. But Steve is there.

His touch, his scent and all. Driving Billy crazy because he’s being pulled out of his usual reality of just surviving. Steve is here, making sure he’s safe when no other person has ever done that for him. He’s angry, but not angry at him, for him. And Billy can’t fucking breathe.

“That day, when I knocked on your door—“ Steve wets his lips and the trepidation in his words is almost too much for the omega to take.

“He said that.”

The man across from him appears to chew his words. “Does he hurt you? Does he do that shit to you, Billy?”

There was so much he knew the alpha wanted to say when Steve had unfortunately shadowed the Hargrove residence. Trouble was, Billy was getting closer and closer to baring his heart and fucking soul to him. The shaky lies he’d feed Steve kept burning his tongue every time he’d have to force them out. The anger which bled into exhaustion finally catching up to him like an adrenaline rush wearing off.

Because Billy was tired of the lying. Of trying and failing to keep the voice that Neil drilled in his head from getting too loud; of black and blue skin and blood stained sheets; not really living when being around Steve chases those feelings away and shows him it doesn’t have to be that way. Because Steve is so good and safe. And Billy is a greedy fucking leech for wanting to hand all his life away for someone else to fix.

He shakily nods his head out of distrust of his voice. Something sits at the edge of Billy’s tongue so heavily, he wants to fucking bite it. Shit he’s never said before, never wanted to say out loud or even think of again that he feels he needs to tell Steve. How he’s been running from everything, he wants to stop but he doesn’t think he can stop and how he’ll only bring him down with him in the end.

“He’s been angry for so long.” Billy’s voice is wet. He prefers for all of his words to come out swinging and ready for a fight, but that’s disappeared from him now. He’s too tired. “Even before my mom left.”

“Steve—“ If Billy wasn’t in love before, he was now at the way the alpha hangs onto the omega calling his name.

“I’m so tired of feeling dirty all the time.” The omega admits and suddenly there’s weight just gone. The words of weakness taste acrid like a pill he couldn’t swallow, but it’s gone. “It’s like I can’t get him off of me no matter what.”

Billy takes a breath that feels too big for his chest, but then he takes another at the force of the gasp erupting from his throat when Steve’s safe, steady palms take hold of his face. His eyes are so big, sometimes the omega thinks he might just constantly be in awe. But Steve is looking at him like that even with Billy’s armor stripped and burned away. Fuck, he can’t stop crying.

But there’s something more behind the whirls of dark amber. A shudder pulls through every nerve in the omega’s body. It’s like a match striking how goosebumps erupt on his skin, but this time not from the cold. From the heat in Steve’s gaze that’s pouring into his scent. It’s anger and fury and rage that Billy is all too familiar with.

Not a word is uttered between them. His nostrils were flared and a slight tremble in his shoulders, but he’s holding the omega so gently. Like he’s worth something. But he’s so angry and the omega should be thinking about running. Billy’s heard Steve get pissed off before, both times directed at him before they exchanged blows; then just a scratchy drawl expected of a teenage alpha and the omega practically laughed in his face. Now, the placid look in his eye is the blinding lightning flash before the blood curdling thunder of his growl. Steve sounds like nothing other than a predator closing in on its prey. His scent fogs the car with something Billy can only think of as wrath. Ice runs through the omega’s veins and every bone in his body drops in submission.

Cinnamon. Diesel. Not at him. For him.

A primal noise falls from the omega in a soft whine and for a moment, Billy can see the battle of animal and man quells within Steve. It’s a sound he’s never made before, but it comes so naturally. Since when does Billy Hargrove fucking whine? Since Steve Harrington, apparently.

His touch is hesitant, but he feels so sure. He’s everywhere, blanketing over the omega in a weight that makes him boneless. Steve’s fingers ghost over his cheekbone before his thumb rests over his cupid’s bow. A fine delicateness to Steve’s touches leaves a trail of fluttering goosebumps on his arms and up his spine. Being admired like fine art, something meant to be protected and cherished, it sends a tremble down his body in a wave of emotion. Billy presses into the touch and allows it to spread like a flame.

Steve presses his lips against his thumbnail and Billy fucking shakes. It’s a promise, one that could only end in fucking disaster and pain and loneliness will take the omega again. But it’s getting harder for him to believe that when the alpha is looking at him this way, even when he doesn’t have his usual glamor that serves him well as his armor.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” The alpha’s hushed tone is intimate, pleading almost as if he were asking for an apology, “I should’ve done it when I saw that fuckin’ bruise on your neck. I can’t let him get away with doing this shit to you.”

Billy can see the anger begin to simmer under his skin once more, so he makes that noise again. It’s soft and high pitched and so unlike everything he’s tried to craft about himself, yet still comes to him like he’s done it for Steve before.

The alpha huffs through his nose again in frustration, this time at himself.

“Maybe there is some fire in you after all.” Billy’s breathy voice is embarrassing, or it should be, but he doesn’t care. Barely crosses his flighty mind.

The fire in the alpha’s eyes dims for a moment and left is a puppy dog where the wolf once was. The omega cooes at how adorable it is.

Steve snaps his canines just an inch away from his face. It’s playful, it’s sending too much fucking dope to his brain that Billy doesn’t know if he can handle. He lets his head dip to the side and the incessant yet delicate press of the alpha’s fangs on his flesh has his head filling with sap. He’s so far fucking gone for this alpha and they haven’t so much as necked yet. A shudder erupts down his back and his cold toes curl in his converse.

“‘Hair is so pretty.” Steve murmurs. Like himself again as he sinks his fingers into the blond curls and holds Billy’s nape.

He’s floating.

-

tbc

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Thirteen

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warnings: Panic attack symptoms. Angst. Everyone’s fucked up. Well, almost everyone.

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho, claudiahxrdy , @christianbalefanatic, @librarianafterdark​,  @rosegxoxo​, @lilizia​, @t0uch-starved-h0e​, @barikawho​

Author’s Note: I apologize for the long wait. 

Previous

Never in a million years did Demetria ever think she would wind up in this situation.

She stared at the suitcase, rubbing her chest and silently begging her body to give her a break tonight. She cursed herself for not locking Bruce out of his own room and instead choosing one of the guest rooms. 

A million different scenarios played in her head. All contained the same concerns, Bruce, her mom and brother’s safety, and her own safety. 

He should’ve ran after her and promised her everything was ok even though she knew it wouldn’t be. But he didn’t. He left her and her overwhelmed state to fend for themselves. 

“Care for some company?” 

Demetria turned her head to see Rachel poking her head in, a sympathetic smile on her face. She nodded her head as the brunette closed the door behind her. 

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

Demetria snorted. “That’s a loaded question.”

“I’ve got all night.” She eyed the suitcase. “I don’t know your timeline though.” 

“A moment of weakness. No matter how many times I try, I can’t seem to go through with it.” She glanced up at Rachel. “You’re the sane one in this situation. What should I do?” 

Rachel cracked a tiny smile. “What do you want to do?” 

“I want him to realize he’s not doing anyone any favors by revealing himself, but you and I both know he’s not going to listen either one of us.” 

“He’s stubborn that way.” 

Demetria eyed her engagement ring, twisting it. “Makes me question a lot of things.” 

“Such as?” 

Tears began to pool in Demetria’s eyes as she realized what it was she was about to say. It was the question that plagued her mind throughout their relationship and into their engagement, but had continuously pushed back as far as she could. 

“Why ask me to marry him?” she finally said. 

Rachel folded her arms across her chest. “There’s something you need to know. Long before you came, Bruce wanted him and I to be together.”

Demetria couldn’t move. A calm confession had managed to knock the absolute shit out of her.

“I told him I couldn’t because of Batman, but that when the city no longer needed him that maybe we could,” Rachel continued. 

Demetria blinked and somewhere in the silence that fell between the two women, realized it was her turn to say something and that Rachel had been waiting on baited breath for some sort of reaction. 

So, she started with a deep breath. “Wow, ok. This…explains a lot.” She glanced up. “I’m not mad. Not that I would have any right to be. I just…I’m processing a lot of information right now and I...” 

Maybe this why Bruce went after her. She was Harvey’s best friend and he must’ve assumed something romantic was going on. Maybe that was why he went to lengths to keep their relationship quiet. Maybe he wanted to show-

“Its been over since he met you,” Rachel said. “After that lunch, he asked me about you. I told him you were off limits. I said that if he messed with you, Harvey would ruin him. That’s how he figured out you were at Harvey’s fundraiser. He came for you.” 

She ran her hand through her hair. “How do I not know he wasn’t with me to try to-.” 

“I told him I was in love with Harvey and that nothing was gonna change my mind and that if that was a problem, he needed to deal with it alone without hurting you.” She paused, smiling a bit. “Then he said he was outside your apartment, making sure you were ok. I realized he took time out of his Batman patrol to check in on you. He also said that if I ever hurt you he’d let me kill him myself.” 

A tiny smile played out on Demetria’s lips. “Time to make good on your promise then,” she said, motioning to the door. 

“He loves you so much that losing you scares him an when he’s scared, he pushes away,” Rachel assured. “He knows you can do better. But I know you’re exactly what he needs.” 

Demetria opened her mouth when Rachel cut her off again. “If he goes through with it, I will take care of you and your family’s protection. I know a lot of people who owe me favors. Just promise me you won’t leave him. You’re his one hope for a normal life.” 

Demetria shut her eyes, letting the tears fall. “Ok.” 

Rachel put a gentle hand on Demetria’s forearm. “Go to him, ok?” 

She went to leave when Demetria said, “Rachel?”

The brunette turned to see Demetria smiling at her. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around her. “If Harvey hurts you, just know I’ll murder him.” 

Rachel laughed. “I’ll hold to you it.” 

======================================================

After wiping her tears, Demetria made her way to their bedroom where Bruce stood, looking out the window. 

The sound of the door closing behind her grabbed his attention. He turned to her, their eyes meeting for a moment before she made her way to her nightstand. 

Her throat started locking in when she grabbed her medicine and opened the cap. She popped the pill in her mouth and made her way to the bathroom, filling up a crystal glass with water from the sink and then taking a large sip. 

Setting the glass back down, she closed the bathroom door and went back to her nightstand where she pulled out her notebook and a pen. 

“Ok, I need you to tell me what areas need to be cleared out in this apartment so Alfred and I can take care of it,” she said. 

Bruce just stared at her. Demetria exhaled softly. “Babe, we have so many goddamn rooms and only so little time so please, for once tonight, help me out here.” 

“What’re you doing?” he asked. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She looked down at the notebook. “Ok, so guest room four is clear. I know that after-.” 

Bruce then took the notebook and pen from her, throwing it off to the side. He gently grabbed her forearms. “I need you to leave in the morning.” 

“Bruce-.” 

“I don’t want you here while this goes down.” 

She tilted her head, glaring at him. “So now I’m being considered?” 

His face softened. “What?”

“Why didn’t you consider me in this decision?”

“I told you I did.”

“Don’t lie to me. Why didn’t you consider me in this decision?”

“Demetria…”

“You considered what you were gonna do with me. What you didn’t consider is how this would impact me.”

“Rachel knows people who are gonna protect you.”

“Lawyers can protect in a court. What about outside of that?”

She took another step. “What about my mom and my brother? You don’t think people are gonna come after them?”

The silence was deafening.

“There are a lot of people who want to kill you for what you’ve done,” she went on. “A handful of those people think that killing you won’t be enough and that’s when they’ll come after everyone associated with you.”

“You don’t think I didn’t think about that?” Bruce retorted. “You don’t think that haunts me?” 

“I don’t because you won’t talk to me!” she told him. “You just keep pushing me away.”

She wiped the tears away. “You want to make this easy on me? Tell me you don’t love me. Say it and I’ll go. I’ll leave and when I’m asked why, I’ll tell them you said it.” 

Bruce’s blank expression made her wonder if he was contemplating. She pulled her lips back, nodding her head. “Go ahead. Say it. Say it.”

Bruce took a step forward to her. She didn’t move. “Say it, Bruce.” 

He held her face in his hands as she closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself to lose him, her whole heart. The world, the future she had romanticized because of him, ready to leave in flash. 

“I love you, Demetria.” 

[vorchagirl]

If you want to: what if they had met as children for Rennah and James? (or any characters that spark joy with you!)

Okay - so this works pretty well because Rennah and Vega actually discovered that they were both in San Diego at the same time when they were kids. She was in the Reds, and he would have been younger - a kid who's drug addled and abusive father drove him out of the house more often than not.

Also this turned out longer than I thought, so I've put it behind a cut! The art is by Alex Coggin Art :)

James kicked a rock along the beach, too disappointed and angry that he'd come home to an empty house again to pay attention to the night sky like he'd planned. When his mother was alive she would have greeted him with a warm hug and a snack, but since she'd died he had to fend for himself.

But still, he'd hoped that this time, on his birthday of all days, maybe his father would have cared enough to be there.

James sighed.

His father had gone out the night before on a red sand bender and still hadn't returned. For all he knew, his father was dead in a gutter. And for all he cared, he could be. He didn't give a shit anymore.

Nothing felt right in the world since his mother died. His father couldn't be bothered buying him clothes, shoes or anything he needed for school, and the other kids gossiped about it behind his back. They didn't dare say anything to his face; he was too big and scary for that. But they talked about him, sometimes not even bothering to wait until the 'urchin' was out of the room.

He kicked the rock even harder, tears filling his eyes as his ill aimed kick hit more sand than rock, and the pale beach sand sprayed out around him. He heard a muttered curse from the dune near him, and someone sat up, scrubbing their eyes and shaking sand from their clothes.

"Watch it, or I'll knock your teeth down your throat, asshole!"

The shape in the dunes formed into a tall woman with long dark hair as she stood up. No, James amended as she stumbled out, looking every bit as high as his father had the last time he'd seen him, it wasn't a woman, it was a girl. She looked to be only a few years older than himself, but she was tall - easily the same height as him.

She swayed unsteadily, the crackle of biotics in her eyes as she sank back to the sand with a curse and lay back. Her eyes were red, whether it was from the red sand she'd obviously taken, or the tears running down her face he didn't know. She groaned and let out a sob as she flopped back, milky white skin showing through her ripped black jeans.

James hesitated awkwardly, half-wanting to run away from this reminder of his father's own addiction, and half-wanting to help a girl in distress.

"Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly. "I can call someone if you need help-"

She let out a choked sob that slowly turned into a laugh and held up her hands, making a square with her fingers as she framed something in the night sky.

"No one can help me," she muttered thickly. "But one day I'll get away. One day I'll go up there." The girl pointed up at the stars. "Fuck 'em all. They can't stop me."

Her hands were bloodied, he noticed. Her knuckles were raw as though she'd been fighting, and her pale face was dotted with blood.

He had a feeling the girl was in trouble, or that she'd been through something awful. But he wasn't sure what he should do, so he just stood there, listening as she rattled off the constellations above them, her voice slurring more and more.

"One day I'll see them all," she finished. "One day..."

"Yeah," James wasn't entirely sure what he was agreeing to as he interrupted her gently, but he looked up at he night sky. The stars were brighter than usual tonight, and they shimmered above. "One day I'll get away too."

The girl seemed to find this funny and she glanced over at him, tears shining on her cheeks. "What's your deal, kid? Looking to join up?" She flashed a gang tattoo at him and James stumbled back a step when he recognised the mark of the Tenth Street Reds. She laughed again. "Didn't think so. Go home."

Stubbornly, he stepped closer again, embarassed that he'd almost run. "I don't have a home," he muttered. "Not anymore."

There was an awkward silence, filled by her sniffing as she made an effort to fight back tears. Slowly, she sat up again and looked him up and down, looked properly and nodded at what she saw. The girl's eyes flicked up at the stars, and then back in his direction, and she pulled something from her pocket and threw it at him. It was a wad of cash, and James caught it awkwardly, not sure what she expected him to do.

In the distance he heard angry yelling and the revving of bikes.

"Get out of here, kid," she muttered, her voice breaking. "Get out of here before they find me. Use that to get some dinner and don't fucking end up like me." The girl lay back with a grunt and put her hands behind her head, apparently unconcerned with the trouble heading her way. "And if you do make it to the stars, come find me and say hi."

James stumbled back, clutching the money the weird girl had given him and nodded. He didn't know who was coming for the girl, but she was in a gang and covered in blood, and he had street smarts enough to know when trouble was brewing.

One day, he vowed, he would make it to the stars. And if he ever met the tall scary girl again, he'd say thanks.

[aliveinacoffin]

request for maybe an all might fic of him neglecting (not paying any attention) to his daughter. And she’s depressed in the inside (but even more after sir night eyes death) but outside she is “happy and cheerful”. But then she just gives up on her looks and behaviour and then someone notices and tells him and then he finally acknowledges her and when he asks what’s wrong she finally snaps at him. (Sorry if this is long)

That's okay! Are you the person who requested the same for the aizawa fic? Your ideas are so good but so sad 🥲 I hope you're not going through a tough time :( also, I was unsure if you wanted it to be in readers pov, but it was already too late when I started, oops T_T

Important To You

Being the daughter of such an important man was already hard, but after he gets deathly ill and the death of his best advisor? Forget about it!

TW: Neglect, parental abuse, depressive episode, mentioned eating problems, bullying, death,

Being the illegitimate and unwanted daughter of Toshinori Yagi wasn't all too bad. He was often times caring and meek, not really knowing how to be a dad to the daughter he never wanted.

But being the daughter of All Might? It was the worst thing in the world.

It made you feel guilty to feel that way. You knew his job was important, he had saved hundreds of lives every day for fucks sake! But he used to always be All Might. He had never been Toshinori, ever.

He used to never be home, always at his agency or out working. He used to just wire you money to let you fend for yourself if he remembered. Sir Night Eye, or as you knew him, Uncle Mirai, has been there from the beginning to make sure you were fed and made sure you were alive and safe every day. Ever since you were little, he would send someone from his agency to pick you up from school or from home to take you to his office.

Ever since your father's accident, his fight with All For One that left him chronically hurt, he had been spending more time at home. But it was all for naught since he just spent time locked away in his room or trying some new healing technique to try and get him back to his prime. He was still just as distant as always, but instead of the distance that separated you, it was the emotional availability.

Currently, you were sitting in your uncle-not-uncle's office doing school work while he typed away at his computer. Apparently, he was working with the Hero Commission for some secret project. Whatever it was, you knew it was serious business. Usually, he'd spill the beans to you, hoping that Hero business would rub off on you to give you more smarts or something like that. But you had never been usually interested in stuff like that, so most of the time, it was a lost cause.

But this time you were extremely interested, but he just wouldn't tell you.

"Please? Why won't you tell me? You know I won't tell anybody else, not like I could anyway." You muttered pitifully, scooting your school desk over to him. It was one he got for you when you were small, and he just continuously upgraded it as you got older. Faded drawings could still be seen, the main one still as bright as ever.

It was a stick figure of you and Mirai holding hands in an office, while All Might was a small figure in the clouds.

Spread out on your desk were math papers. You were a second year in a reasonably priced high school. What? Did you expect the quirkless daughter of the technically quirkless number one hero to go to hero school? Or even a prestigious high school? Hah, in your dreams.

"Because I can't. This is a very important mission. Hopefully, it will be over soon." Mirai said, his stiff form diligently working.

You sighed, hitting your head on your desk. Looking at your homework made your head spin, so you packed it up and pushed your desk to the back of his office. You grabbed the chair from the desk behind him and pulled up to sit next to him.

He immediately glared at you and exited all his open tabs. He called out to you, scolding you. You groaned and got up to face the back of his computer.

Mirai sighed and shook his head, mumbling a thank you as he reopened his work.

You took out your phone to play around on it, and you could feel his harsh gaze on you. You looked up, and half expected that he would tell you to 'smile more' or 'try to be more funny', but that's not what he said at all.

"What have you eaten today?" His voice was stern, almost cold in the way he said it.

You've always been in the middle of the weight class, with nearly childish features you inherited from your father. But you have never been the weight you could've been, always just falling short. Like always.

"Food, I ate today." You mumbled, looking away. Lying wasn't that hard for you. You lied all the time. Yes, I'm fine! Oh, don't worry about me, I'm just not hungry. Yes, my life is great! But when it came to your uncle? There was always a guilt there, like you were committing egregious sins when you lied about your homework or how home was like. The pain and squirming guilt outmatched the grumbling of your empty stomach.

"I asked what you ate today. You need to take better care of your body, you're a growing teenager, you must eat the proper meals to grow." Mirai scolded you, quickly opening an email to send some intern to get you food.

"It just slipped my mind." You shrugged, looking down like a pouting child.

"Then set reminders." He countered, not caring about your sour mood.

Sometime later, Mirio's shining face came in with a hearty meal and a large bottle of water.

___________________________________________

The mood was off, and everyone could tell, and you were no fool to it.

"Why's everyone so tense?" You asked, flinging your backpack at the entryway. Dragging a nearby chair to sit in front of Mirai's desk, taking your usual spot.

"Do you remember the case we're working on?" Mirai asked, green hair mussed and slightly greasy.

"The one you won't tell me about? Yeah." You scooted closer to his desk, leaning over in anticipation.

Today had been shit. There had been a presentation in class about your family history. Of course, you tried to get info from your father, but that ended up being pointless.

"Dad?" Your voice was small, and the knock you landed on your father's bedroom door was smaller.

There was rustling, on the other end. "Yes, hun?" He called out to you, somewhere in the depths of his room. Not bothering to even face you to talk to you.

"I uhm-I have an assignment for class, and I need your help." You said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You held the paper in your hands, the edges crinkling slightly as your nerves got the best of you.

"Oh? Why don't you ask Mirai, I'm sure he's much better equipped for your school assignments." You could hear the sound of papers hitting a desk, and a feeling of sadness filled you. They were probably lesson plans for that one student at U.A., the one he had been training the past couple of months. He was giving that one random kid more attention than you had gotten from him your whole life.

"Because for this one, I need to ask about my family history. It's about gathering information about my parents and grandparents and so on, it's to show our research skills. It's a summative grade." You explained. A large part of you was in denial, there was no way he'd say no, right?

"W-well-" Suddenly, his thin form peeked out the door, a kind smile on his face. "I'm really busy at the moment, how about later we can go through the closet and try to find some old pictures, huh?" Your father reassured.

"O-oh, okay!" You nodded fervently, trying to hide your disappointment. You went into the apartment living room, and sat down on your couch, pulling out the expectations and requirements for the assignment.

Later never came.

You did the same next day, asking him to help you, and each day was the same. Tomorrow alright? Oh later, is that okay? Each and every time, later never came. Timidly, you asked him why he kept pushing you off, trying to stress just how important this assignment was to your grade.

"Oh! I'm so sorry honey, my side has just been acting up, and I have so much work to do that it must've slipped my mind. I'm so sorry, how about I make it up to you? We'll get ice cream later, how about that?" Your father promised, his two bunny ears bouncing as he bowed slightly as he apologized.

"A-alright, as long as we get my assignment done." You said, trying to sound stern. Your tears threatening to spill out.

Later. Never. Came.

When it came time to present your assignment in front of the whole class, you were humiliated beyond belief and got the worst grade out of the class.

Back to the present, Uncle Mirai sighed and looked over at you from his computer.

"Well, we're finally making a move on them tomorrow. I have been doing extensive research, and I can only strive for the best outcome." Mirai was looking down on you, but you knew he was trying to comfort you.

You had gotten wind of how serious this project was from wandering the halls of the building, seeing how solemn and serious people looked, and overhearing hushed whispers made you somewhat aware of what was happening. But not only that, the look of your uncle's appearance became more and more disheveled the more you saw him, just seeing how overworked he was.

"That's great! I'm sure this will help the agency's notoriety right?" You trusted your uncle's abilities, you knew how strong he was, how smart and capable both he and his team was. You didn't have a shadow of a doubt that he'd be fine. He had to be, after all. You had no one else but him. You didn't have friends, growing up around your uncle and absent father didn't exactly give you the best people skills. Everyone either thought you were weird, or a freak. Especially as a kid when you tried to brag that All Might was your father.

"But he is! All Might is my dad!" You exclaimed, tears filling your eyes as you stomped on the ground.

"Then how come you don't have a cool quirk like him? How come you don't have any pictures of him? How come he never picks you up from school or shows up to school?" The other kids jeered, a small group of other kindergarteners surrounding, you trapping you.

"Because he's busy! My uncle just says I'm a late bloomer!"

"More like a lame loser! Stop lying for attention." You felt a pair of hands shove you to the ground, and the group dispersed.

The rest of your childhood was the same, you gave up around middle school trying to convince people. The bullying just became too much for you. Around that same time, you stopped eating as much, and stopped caring about your appearance, what you wore, and what you did.

Your hair was long and often tangled, the ends light from all the damage done to your hair, your constant eyebags deep and dark, your unhealthy weight from either the lack of food or the lack of proper food. The only reason you even bothered to eat was to make sure you didn't upset your uncle, he was the one to make dentist appointments, hair appointments, and doctors appointments. He was the only one who ever came to important ceremonies for school, sometimes even going to parent-teacher conferences for you, he was the one to hold you after school while you cried, the one always there for you. Your uncle was the only one who even cared about you.

"The justice we will bring will be greater than the fame we will gain." He nodded, piercing yellow eyes boring into you. As if he could read your mind and not the future, he turned fully to you, giving you his full undivided attention.

"I promise it'll all work out in the end, you're a strong and capable girl. Now tell me, did Yagi ever help you with your assignment?" Mirai asked though both of you knew the answer.

You turned away from him, trying to hide the embarrassed tears that came crawling to the surface. "I failed, and now I barely have a C in that class."

He sighed and took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He groaned and looked at you with annoyed eyes. "I should've known."

That made you giggle.

___________________________________________

"Well, we're finally making a move on them tomorrow."

Today.

After school you immediately raced home, sending a text to Centipeder or Moashi, that you wouldn't need a ride to the office. There was no point anyway, your uncle wasn't there to keep you company.

You remember the first conversation you had with him, a funny misunderstanding that was the first development of your Kind Guardian/Kid relationship.

"I just don't understand." He said from the front of the car one day, unprompted.

"Uhm, what..do you not understand?" You piped up after a beat of silence, confused.

"well, for Sir Nighteye to even acknowledge someone, they must make him at least smile. But I haven't heard you tell even a pun to him, and yet he is very open with you. I am...also confused about the nature of your relationship." Moashi confessed, eyes constantly going back and forth between you and the road.

"O-oh, I'm his niece. And I'm...not very funny, I'm too awkward to try and tell him a joke every day." Your voice was weak and trailed off, embarrassment filling you. But you had told the truth, you struggled to even ask to go to the bathroom, let alone try the daunting task of trying to tell a joke. He hadn't made you do it when you were too young to tie your shoes, why suddenly start now?

"ah, I apologize for my unprofessionalism." He asked, embarrassed himself too.

Since then, you felt a little bit more comfortable around him, even if most days you sat in the back looking out the window.

Still, none of that mattered when you turned on the TV, feeling like a little get as you sat right in front of the screen.

"Oh sweetie, please don't sit so close to the screen, it's bad for your eyes." You could hear your father's voice behind you.

You didn't even bother to pull your attention from the screen when you spoke to him, "You know that's actually not true. Plus, Uncle Mirai has his raid today, and I need to know the result." You quickly surfed through channels, and you jumped when you found the one you needed. A helicopter was circling above an inconspicuous-looking house, absolutely swarmed with heroes.

"That's today? I hope young Midoriya will be okay." Toshinori mumbled, and it made you glare at your TV screen without realizing it. Your emotions were on the fritz, you hadn't eaten since yesterday, hadn't slept, hell you hadn't even drunk water. Too nervous to do anything other than go through the motions of life. Your head hurts, your eyes stung, and you felt like absolute shit, but you needed to know.

You heard your father sit down behind you, but you didn't move an inch to give him a better view.

Then, it began.

___________________________________________

They won.

The heroes won, and they arrested all members of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza. But there were heroes so gravely injured that they needed to be life-lined out, and when they zoomed in on the victims' faces, listing off their names, both you and your estranged father ran to the car to race to the hospital.

Normally, your father was a strict follower of the rules, especially when it came to the laws of the road. But at this moment, the speed limit just didn't exist.

Hell, you guys were pushing a hundred while on your way to the hospital, the ride deathly silent. You were too terrified to speak, and your father remained unreadable to you.

The ride to the hospital was the most unbearable experience of your life.

___________________________________________

You ran ahead of your father, not even helping him get out of the car as you burst into the hospital. Hurridly, you ran up to the receptionist, speedily saying your name and asking for Mirai Sasaki. She pointed you to his secluded room, and you didn't even bother to thank her as you took off at top speed.

It felt like your world was crashing down, your breath coming in short, and panicked. You could barely breathe, barely think, the only thing you could do was run.

Your lungs burned when his room came into sight, a scream was worming its way from your throat, your heart and chest burned absolutely alit with fear.

Some part of your mind registered a green-haired boy and a blonde boy in the room, but it didn't matter as you slammed the door open.

A sob forced its way out your mouth when you opened the door, your eyes clouding with tears when you drank in the sight of your uncle. "Mirai!" That scream tore its way out of you in a voice you couldn't recognize as yourself.

You rushed over to his side, grasping onto the sidebars as if your life depended on it like it was the only thing keeping you here on earth.

The display of his health horrified you. His usually cunning eyes were dull and glazed over. His naked body was filled to the brim with tubes, filling the hole in the middle of his abdomen. His body was weak, the blue veins visible under his thin flesh, covered in sweat as he weakly breathed, his lungs wheezing with the strenuous task of pumping hair into his body. He looked over to you slowly, a small smile tugging across his face as if the mere act of making a minuscule smile drained what little life force he had left. His usually neat hair was mussed up, a sight people rarely saw because his appearance was the second most important thing to him.

He reached a shaking hand to you and placed it gently on yours. It was such a stark difference, the feeling of his cold and weak hand gently resting on your hand, still clenching as hard as you could next to him. Tears were freefalling now, hitting his pale arm and sliding down it. His hand trembled on top of yours, and you hurridly grasped it with both of yours to ease the shaking.

"U-uncle-y-you-" You tried to speak, but snot and tears made it difficult to speak. Your throat was tight, the feeling of thorns and barbed wire made it near impossible to even breathe.

He called out to you, voice soft and small, shushing you in an instant. "Breathe, you must calm down. You're having a panic attack." Mirai's words were shaky, and he tried his best to reassure you, even at a time like this.

"But you're-you're-" You couldn't even finish your sentence, couldn't even think of the word coming to your mind.

Dying.

He was dying.

Your uncle, the man who raised you, the man who made sure you ate every day, who made sure you had clothes, who taught you to tie your shoes, brushed your hair, and had held you on your best and worst days, Mirai Sasaki was dying.

And there was nothing to stop it.

When your father had almost died in his fight with All For One, you had been upset, sure. But Mirai had reassured you that he'd live, he even used his quirk to ease your worries, so you hadn't been as worried. Sure, it was still a deeply traumatizing event and was a hard time for you and your father. But you had Mirai, you always had Mirai.

And now he was leaving you, he was leaving you behind. The man who had replaced your father your whole life was abandoning you, and there was no way to stop it.

"Please, please don't leave me." You cried, finally managing to say words to him.

Mirai's face never faltered from his gentle smile, and his eyes crinkle slightly. "My child, please don't cry. Please don't forget your smile." He looked up at the ceiling and rested his hands on his wheezing chest. Your uncle's body completely relaxed, but he still had a smile on his face.

"When you were born, your father...did not want to keep you. Toshinori wanted to leave you at an orphanage, but I refused. I wanted you, I wanted you so badly I promised to take care of you. So I did. For the first couple of years of your life, I took complete care of you." He wheezed. "But he realized just how precious you were, so he took you back." Mirai mustered up the strength to look at you again, and it was obvious that the smile on his face was fake. "I've regretted that day every day. I should've kept you and raised you on my own. So I made sure to the best of my abilities that you were okay. But, I failed." Now, tears were falling from his eyes.

"Nno, no you didn't-" You started, voice full of panic, but he shushed you.

"Let me finish." He took a deep breath in and continued. "Every day I knew I should've kept you, it pained me to see you in such miserable conditions. Before I realized it, I had grown contempt for Toshinori. I hated seeing you in such a state, but I never wanted you to hate your father, so I just tried to help you in any way I could, and kept my anger to myself. I don't know when, but you had morphed into my own daughter over time. Maybe you always were, I'm unsure. Still, I want you to know one thing. I love you, and I always have. Please, promise me you'll live your life with a smile on your face and a kind heart, don't forget who you are." You gasped, trying to get as much air through the tears and agony.

"I promise, I swear on my life I'll honor your legacy the best I can." At this point, you were practically in the hospital bed with him, hunched over and clawing at his shoulders and hands.

"Remember to take care of yourself, live for me, and grow older than I'll ever be." Mirai shakily reached up to grasp at your face, weakly trying to wipe away your tears.

You closed your eyes, trying to appreciate and memorize his touch. "I pinky promise, I love you so much." Your eyes flew open when his touch disappeared, and your heart broke at the sound of his heart monitor flatlining.

At that moment, when nurses rushed in and your father's weak hands tried to pry you away you felt it.

Everything after that day was a blur.

Your world stopped that day.

___________________________________________

You don't remember how you got home that day, or what you did the rest of that week. Hell, even his funeral was a blur. You didn't go to school, didn't eat, didn't sleep, you didn't even leave your room. You just didn't exist anymore, like you had died with him.

Moashi had tried to contact you, calling and texting you constantly. He wanted to go over the will. His will.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to answer him, or to check your phone, or even to look over to see it.

A week or two or however long into your depressive episode, your father came into your room. He was holding a plate of food and a glass of water, looking just as bad as you.

"I brought you food." Toshinori whispered like you were ready to break at any moment. Maybe you were, or maybe it was too late, and you were already broken, instead, he was being careful of the pieces of your heart that were scattered around.

You didn't even spare him a glance, still staring at the ceiling. "I'm not hungry." You didn't even sound like you, voice rough and damaged. Vocal cords fried from unuse.

"You must eat. You cannot keep living like this. What would Mirai-" Your father started, and you shot up out of your bed.

"Stop. Don't you fucking dare use his name. You have no right to even think of him." You growled, getting up out of your messy bed. You hadn't changed your clothes from that day, your life was slowly slipping away from you, and even doing basic tasks seemed impossible. You knew you smelt, you knew you were a disgusting mess, and you could feel the grime and filth from lack o personal hygiene and care. But you just couldn't.

Your head swam from the sudden movement, your body trying to shut down on you. You felt weak and disorientated, and the constant gnawing hunger pains ate away at you. Your teeth ached, your head and body itched, your body and mind just hurt.

"Do you have any idea how horrible it was to live with you? Oh, sorry, to live by myself? I used to get bullied for trying to tell everyone you were my dad, it got so bad that I stopped talking at one point because every day people were telling me to kill myself. I used to not eat, and did you ever notice? No! Because All Might didn't have a daughter, so he was never home. He was there for every fucking person in Japan but his daughter. There were times when I didn't come home, and you didn't even notice wasn't there. Did you even care if I ate? What I do? You let me fail an assignment because it was just too much of a bother. Who do you think took care of you when you almost died? Where were you all the times I stayed home because I was sick?" Your voice was raw, and your throat burned from the agony of yelling at him. But you didn't care, you didn't even have any tears left to cry. You had nothing left.

"Mirai was always there to kiss my wounds, he came to everything. Ever wondered if I know how to play instruments? What my hobbies are? Mirai did! He encouraged me to pursue what I loved and came to all my plays, and performances, kept every drawing I made him, every craft I did." You fell to the floor, exhausted. You looked up to Toshinori Yagi, the stranger you've lived with for the past sixteen years. He was not your father, he never had been, your real father, the man who loved you unconditionally and wholeheartedly was dead. And he was never coming back.

"I hate you, I wished I had never been born to a man like you. You're not my father, you've never been my father. You should've died instead of him." You spoke your truth, glare downright murderous as you watched the horrified man in front of you. You felt no regret as he started to tear up, clutching his damaged side in pain.

You'd live up to your promises to your father, but you'd also never come to regret the words you uttered to the man who you shared blood with.

Just because you shared blood with someone, that did not automatically make them family.

___________________________________________

Holy shit;;;;; that was 4,538 words. Longest one-shot I ever fucking wrote. My computer is literally slowing down because I wrote this all on Tumblr lmaooo

Kinda don't like the ending, but I had so much fun writing this,,,, THANK YOU SO MUCH WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS, at first I was nervous because 'oh no how tf do I write this' but then it just started FLOWIN gyat dayum.

anyways, little notes incase you were wondering,,

Reader was abandoned by her mom after she was born, and mummy dearest managed to hand her back to toshi before she disappeared,,later she died pretty young, so, unfortunately, kiddo will never meet her. Toshi wanted to leave her because he couldn't deal with a child, but sir felt an instant connection with her and wanted her,,so he really did raise her but toshi saw how cute she was and was just like 'it wont be hard to raise a child right?' how wrong he was,,over time sir started to hate toshi, meaning his room isn't decked out in all might merch and isn't as harsh on deku and mirio when they come around,,if anything, kiddo made him much softer than he is in anime, because he knows what its like to be a dad(tm),, he never took her back because he didn't want her to hate toshi, so he just kept his anger to himself. (meaning he ain't creepy to bubble girl, thinking if anyone did that to his daughter hed fuckin kill them),,in his will, he left the agency to centipder so thats still the same, but he's under strict directions to train reader to one day take over the agency for her own, not caring that shes quirkless. Reader and all might will never make up, and when he dies, she will not feel regret nor sadness over his death, she will silently hate deku from the sidelines, and will be an endeavor fan (ick) ([okay sorry that want little but I love her-])

[thesiblingsoftheblackandwhite]

[[PARENTIFICATION]]

You did WHAT?!

I was stressed, OK!? I know it was stupid and I wasn’t fucking thinking-

Blinky’s hasty and stumbling explanation doesn’t do him justice. Tinky chuckles bitterly.

Sure! Stress is a great reason to not feed our brother!

Bliklotep winces and takes a few steps back. When he put it like that…

You took away his food? Physically fucking took it?! What were you thinking?

Panic crawls in his throat.

I gave it back!

It’s food!

Blinky freezes as T’noy strides closer until they’re face-to-face. He’s taller than him, and it doesn’t help make his seething gaze any less threatening.

You can give out that type of punishment to the Sniggles at your theme park, whatever. I don’t care. But you had no right to do that to our brother.

Stuck with nowhere to run, tired, and having been run ragged all day, Blinky lifts his chin with his own nasty look. He’s not ready to take all of the blame yet.

If you hadn’t been gone all day, that wouldn’t have happened. You can’t act like this isn’t partially your fault.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean??

Oh, come on.

Blinky gains more confidence. As of late, he’s been busy. But the anger that had been aimed toward his older brother was still there.

Going out on your own? If anything, you’re the irresponsible one.

…He wouldn’t…

Excuse me?

Wind blows through the wood with a creak. Without a sound, Tinky backs away from his brother.

Irr…Irresponsible…

He scoffs out what might be a laugh. A switch flips as he snarls.

I have been nothing but responsible for this fucking family since they day YOU were born!

Bliklotep pauses, surprised at where the conversation went. He recovers quickly with a rebuttal.

Wh - well, you didn’t have to! You could have followed in His footsteps and left me to fend for myself! I would’ve figured it out!

I’m BETTER than Him!

Blinky shuts his eyes on instinct as he’s grabbed roughly by the shoulders. He’s fucked up and knows it.

I could have ignored you! I could’ve! But I didn’t. You wanna know why, Bliklotep? I knew Him. I knew how much pain He could cause and I didn’t want someone else in my position. Do you get that?

His voice holds a tight grin.

Do you know how much I had to do to keep all of you safe? Huh? Don’t ever compare me to Him again.

He practically shoves him away as if Blinky had initiated contact. Blinky hears a quiet sniffle behind his closed eyes.

So-

He cracks his eyes open. Tinky looks downright drained, but manages a sharp glare.

You are going to grab your little brothers, maybe eat, go to sleep, and shut the fuck up for the rest of the night. You’re apologizing to Wiggog in the morning.

He turns away and leaves Blinky alone in the hall.

[quaddmgd]

So I managed to finish that little fic I've been talking about. It's not much, but hey, it's my first since 5 years!

As always, Elegy belongs to @oranzuwu! Thank you for helping me get her dialogue right and proofreading this multiple times for me! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

This fic is a continuation to a post Halcyon made, so make sure to read it first! There's an entire synopsis there!

I might drop it on AO3 when I set it up eventually.

Fic under the cut!

MERCURY

As the door opened, I saw Elegy sitting on the bed, our new bed, possibly for a few days, leaning against the wall. Usually she greets me with a warm smile, but this time I could only see concern. "How are you feeling?" she asked, slightly leaning in my direction. "Better now, thanks. Doc is a cool guy." I responded with a smile, adding "Thank you, for being there for me. I would end up in a hole if it wasn't for you." As she glanced at me, her pretty black eyes filled with care. "What are you talking about? I'd never leave you there." she assured me, as if she knew exactly what's on my mind. It made sense; apart from Misty, she's the only person that fully knows why I parted ways with my family. "Doc left you some clothes and booze, behind you, on the chair. I could fix us some drinks, if you’d like. I know I would." I smiled briefly and broke our eye contact. 

"Sure, but first, I could really use a shower." I moaned in sudden pain while trying to hand-comb my hair with the injured arm. Judging by the change in her raccoon eyes, she took notice, but tried to continue: "Well, help yourself, if you're brave enough. Greasy as fuck, looks like someone flatlined there." She made me chuckle. "I'm sure I've seen worse when I was on the road." After taking the clothes from the chair, I turned towards the bathroom. The automatic door was there, but it was visibly broken. I couldn't move it in either direction. Seeing only half of her face from where I was standing now, I noticed the break in the eye contact. Visibly embarrassed, she looked away, muttering under her breath: "Oh yeah, the door's kinda not working." "Great..." I sighed.

"Shout if you need help with anything."

She had no way of knowing, but she made me smile, even though I'd never let her help me in this state. That being said, I'd love to have her there, at this moment.

The shower allowed me to rethink what happened that night. Blood from the gunshot wound on my arm, flowing with water beneath my feet, made me realize that I was lucky... and that something might've happened to Elegy. Feeling light-headed, I leaned against a cold shower wall and began sliding along. On the ground, I hugged my legs, feeling the warmth of tears building up in my eyes. I knew that thinking about it wouldn't change a thing, but here I was. What mattered was that we were both safe, mostly unharmed, and no one knew where we were. "The moment we leave this shithole, it's a soft reboot." I kept repeating to myself, preparing to get up and finish washing; and so I did, after a minute or two, somehow.

"If you need any help with the bandage, let me know!" her lively voice from behind the wall greeted me, after I left the shower, still trying to fend off the idea of calling her here to see what happens. "Don't worry, I'm good at this myself." I replied. She sounded much less tense than before. I could imagine she wanted us to just relax and keep our minds off what happened.

It was so hot today that I decided to dry up in nothing but underwear. Going back to Elegy, I met with her fond smile, covered by a slightly wiped purple lipstick. I returned it, wondering if she really eyed me up and down right now. "There's a drink with a name of a really brave girl on it." she remarked, pointing at a nightstand, beside which I was supposed to sleep tonight. "Thanks, I need it." I sat on the bed, beside her, and leaned on the same wall.

The raccoon looked me in the eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll keep in touch with guys in the city, we'll know when it's safe to come back. Try to not worry, ok?" "So we're really stuck here for now?" I asked hopelessly, not happy to sleep in a muggy, rundown motel room, filled with a metallic smell of an unknown source. "Mhm." she smiled nervously, looking down on her legs before gazing into my eyes and smiling, as if she just came up with an idea that would drastically improve our look on this situation; "But look, on the other side, we're outta the city, just the way you like. I'll take care of you and make sure you recover asap. Until then, we can sleep all day and order pizza!" I shaked my head, unable to help but smile a bit. I felt the need to snuggle up to her, but I couldn't bring myself to just openly hug her. The anxiety won again. Enjoying my glass of whiskey with coke, I leaned on her, placing my head on her shoulder. It was all I could do, but it was enough.

I was very grateful, not only for what she did today, but for being an awesome person all around. The thought of meeting someone so friendly and trustworthy in this god-forsaken city never would've crossed my mind, yet here we were. The inseparable duo, ever since she found me in the Afterlife, and convinced me that we need each other in order to complete our tasks. But I always struggled with showing emotions, especially since it's not like we know each other for that long.

I eventually let out "Thank you, for everything." to which she took a sip from her glass and smiled. "Don't mention it, C, really. Like I said-" As something on my stomach got her attention, her smile suddenly disappeared. "Something wrong?" I asked, checking myself for any wounds. It was weird. I knew I wasn't shot anywhere else, but what I mistook as shock at the time, made me doubt myself. She started moving her index finger across the scar on my stomach; "You weren't joking... that it's not your first time." I didn't know if I should tell her to stop. It felt weird, tingly, but her gestures were full of care... concern. I didn't understand what was going on. "Uhh... Yeah, I've... been shot before." were the only words I managed to gawk out.

“And you’ve been worse.” As she was busy examining my scars, moving on to the one above my bust, I locked my eyes on her beautiful face. I was scared of screwing up our friendship, but I couldn't resist touching her. I delicately stroked her cheek. That's when she looked me in the eyes for about three seconds, pulled me by my shoulders, and suddenly kissed me. The warmth of her lips intoxicated me. She stopped to say, her voice quiet and tender: "Please take care of yourself, I can't afford to lose you." after which I returned the kiss, feeling both happiness and fear that I'll do something wrong and lose her.

[definitelynotgideon]

This is a Genya Shinazugawa x OC (Gideon Azulyss) MLM Fic 🏳️‍🌈

A/N: Ayyyyy it's another chapter!!

I had fun writing this one just for the interactions and jokes. This one will have two parts at least. Maybe a third? I'm not sure yet.

CW: Slight suggestive language!

Word Count: 1,957

The Demons We Face | Chapter 18, The Wolf (Part 1)

“That was annoying and I never want to do it again.”

“That's what a werewolf would say, to try to get someone off his trail.” Genya smirked as they walked.

“I don't know Genya. If I'm the wolf here you're the one *sharing a bed* with a dog so-”

“Well yeah, a good guard dog. You'll wake me up if there are demons. It's why I picked you.”

Gideon would never win this argument. Genya had several comebacks lined up. He'd been thinking of them since the first accusation.

There's a moment of silence while they walked. Genya laced his fingers in with Gideon’s. He couldn't help but drive one last dagger into the joke. He leaned in close to his ear.

“You're such a *good boy*, Gideon.”

The night fell on a sleepy village. The residents were restless, sleep deprived… on high alert. Because they were actively being hunted by what was reported to be some sort of werewolf. But the corps knew it didn't act like any such thing, and no one in the town could put a finger on who could have been transforming if that had been the case.

Genya and Gideon had arrived to frustrated, exhausted and angry farmers and their families. Not everyone knew about the demon slayer corps, and not everyone even believed demons existed… so it was a unique challenge to convince the townsfolk that they were not a threat.

Gideon hypothesized that the reason Genya was chosen for this mission was partly due to his marksman nature of fighting (in part). He was immediately able to convince the people that he was a hunter called to take care of a pest. But it took some finesse to convince them that Gideon was also a hunter.

“He's my hunting partner!! He helps slow the de- I mean the varmints, so I can get a clear shot the first time!” Genya was standing somewhat in front of Gideon while a few of the older men questioned them.

“Why doesn't he have a gun too? Yer really looking suspicious!! How are we supposed to trust that yer not the wolf?!”

“He has grey hair like a wolf too!! Unnatural!”

“Make him touch silver!!”

Gideon deadpanned at the woman who said for him to touch silver and placed a flat palm on the honed part of his hammer claw. Sure, it was nichirin metal… but maybe he'd get away with it. It was the *color* of silver…

“That's not silver it's iron!!”

God damn it.

Genya intervenes again. “So if he touches something silver and nothing happens, you'd be convinced he's not the wolf?”

The farmers nod. “Yeah. I'd be convinced.”

“Okay great! Do you have any silver that he can touch?”

They look around at each other. Pure silver was hard to come by. They were pretty convinced that it was why they couldn't fend off the wolf themselves.

Gideon groans softly. This wasn't going well.

Genya was still trying though. “Okay but think about it, why would I be traveling with a werewolf if I'm hunting them?”

“They're tricksters!! He's tricked you!!”

The people of the town began to grow even more restless. Night was fully upon them, and the slayers were losing valuable time on this argument. Genya pinches the bridge of his nose.

“...Fuck okay um… Listen, he and I share a bed. I would know. Okay? We've shared a bed for some time now. I'd know if my romantic partner was a werewolf.”

The old villagers were now… taken aback. But they stopped accusing Gideon of being a werewolf. Both of the traveling men are blushing, and the farmers are fairly convinced that it was not a fake confession just by that. They, at minimum, shut up about Gideon being the werewolf.

Just out of precaution though… the two men decide to camp instead of residing in the town. It was for the best.

Once they had wandered out of earshot Genya leaned in and kissed Gideon's cheek. “Gods, babe, stop being a werewolf already you're scaring people,” he teased. Gideon gave him a playful shove.

“That was annoying and I never want to do it again.”

“That's what a werewolf would say, to try to get someone off his trail.” Genya smirked as they walked.

“I don't know Genya. If I'm the wolf here you're the one *sharing a bed* with a dog so-”

“Well yeah, a good guard dog. You'll wake me up if there are demons. It's why I picked you.”

Gideon would never win this argument. Genya had several comebacks lined up. He'd been thinking of them since the first accusation.

There's a moment of silence while they walked. Genya laced his fingers in with Gideon’s. He couldn't help but drive one last dagger into the joke. He leaned in close to his ear.

“You're such a *good boy*, Gideon.”

He knows exactly what it'll do to the poor gay idiot by his side. He smirks as Gideons face and ears turn red in the lowlight of the night sky.

Gideon doesn't know whether to be mad or turned on by that. He blushes, a dusting of deep pink across his cheeks and ears tell Genya that he's succeeded in flustering his boyfriend. Genya was good at these games, and he'd had the upper hand all evening. So Gideon just leans into it.

“Yeah? What makes me ‘such a good boy?’” he asks, not letting go of his hand.

“So many things,” Genya says. But he doesn't expand on it, he just gives Gideon a smile. Mischievous sure, but also soft.

They come across a decent spot to set up their camp. Since they're out in the open, they'd need to share watch duty and carefully tend a fire. This may attract the threat right to them, but… less work in tracking it down if that happened. They start a fire for light, set up a sleeping area, and pull out rations to eat as they plan.

“We are still within earshot of the village, so if we hear a commotion I'll run up first to engage the threat. You can take your position easily to get shots off from a rooftop, while I distract it.” Gideon proposes.

Genya nods. “And if it comes here first, we can just engage it as we see fit.”

“Sounds good to me.” Gideon says, flopping down on the bedding. “Sucks we have to trade off watch duty. I want to cuddle you.” He pouts a little, but Genya smirks.

“Poor poor puppy,” he teases.

“I'm not a dog!!” he furrows his brow as Genya straddles him to play wrestle. He tries to sit up but Genya pins him down and he blushes *immediately.* It makes Genya laugh. He leans down to his ear.

“What's the matter? Flustered?”

“You're so mean, we are literally on a mission. And outside.”

Genya grins impishly. “I don't know what you're implying, baby…”

Gideon playfully strikes his chest. “Yes you do!”

Genya giggles at the play hit. “You're adorable when you're all worked up.” He reaches deftly for Gideons side and he squirms, but Genya already has a hold of him, pinning him at his waist. He starts tickling him and Gideon screams out laughing.

Genya decides to tease further while he tickles the living shit out of his boyfriend. “You're being so loud babe, gonna attract the wolf right to us at this rate.”

Gideon tries to get out a response amidst laughter. “If- Hhhhh!! If we die because of this!!! It's your fault!!!”

A rustle in the bushes grabs Genya's attention immediately and he stops. He freezes his emotions, eyes locked in the direction of the noise. Gideon immediately looks that way as well, trying desperately to breathe quietly after the horseplay.

A squirrel emerges and they both instantly relax. Genya huffs a little relieved laugh before leaning down to kiss Gideon's forehead, releasing him and allowing him up.

Gideon sits up and looks to Genya, who has gotten to his feet. The marksman looks around carefully, reassessing the area. Since they'd made noise, a lot of the smaller animals had fled. The squirrel was simply fleeing as well, it was just closer to them.

He can't tell exactly if it was because of them… or if a larger threat had driven everything away.

“...Gideon, you should rest. I'll take the first watch.” Genya looks to him. His silver haired boyfriend gazed back up at him in a small bit of concern, so Genya softens his gaze. They both know the danger is real… but it doesn't stop them from wanting to comfort each other.

Before Gideon can articulate a protest, Genya smiles at him gently. “I'll be fine. I'll wake you in an hour to trade. Okay? Rest for me.”

The threat was nearby, and Genya knew it. Gideon laid down, using his arms as a pillow buffer from the earth below. Genya stationed close to him, watching the darkened treeline with all of the awareness of a cat.

He knew if the wolf suddenly showed itself… he could shoot it quickly to avoid being completely ambushed. He held his gun on his lap, two cases had already been placed. The loaded shotgun made him even more careful and aware of their situation. He felt the weight every time he loaded his gun…

The cadence of Gideon’s breathing changes after ten minutes. Genya sneaks a warm glance at his sleeping form. Having him here alongside of him was a blessing… he was happy that he'd decided to come with him. He was confident that they could protect each other, and deal with the threat.

Time passed… an hour was quickly approaching. Genya was certain that the wolf would have made e itself known by now… but he begins to think of a backup plan as he tends the fire. He knows Gideon would be cross at him if he allowed him to sleep longer… so he gently runs his shoulder to wake him up.

“Hrrmm?” Gideon’s eyes peek open, squinting at the firelight.

“No sign of it… it's been an hour.”

Gideon sits up and rubs his eyes. “That's weird,” he says, mid yawn.

Genya looks to him as if thinking through a decision. “... I'm going to show you how to use my gun.”

“Hmm? Why?” He says, coming more to his senses.

“If the wolf attacks us here, a gun is our best bet. The quickest defense.” He looks to Gideon’s hammer. “You can pull a trigger faster than you can lift your hammer.”

Though he couldn't risk allowing Gideon a practice shot, he shows him how to hold it, allowing him to take it into his hand as he sits behind him and helps. “...For you, it might be easier to hold it with two hands. Don't place your finger on the trigger unless you are definitely ready to shoot.” Since he's so close to his ear, she speaks softly while he explains.

He lifts Gideon's arms gently up while he holds the gun out. “There will be kickback when you fire, so it's best to brace your arms… and right here in the center of the barrels is a little gap. Line that up with your target to aim before you fire.”

Gideon nods to each bit of instruction, taking it seriously. He can't help but shi er just a bit though, very aware of how close Genya is and the softened tone. He's still a little apprehensive about using a weapon that isn't his, especially a gun… but if it was for the best he'd do it.

Genya has Gideon carefully set the gun down, pointing away from them. Then he wraps his arms around him. “Only shoot once you see what it is. Okay? Wait until you see its eyes.” He presses a couple of kisses into the crook of his neck. “And remember I'm right here with you.”

Gideon turns to catch his lips in his own. Placing a hand over his, he presses his face against Genya's, touching their foreheads together. “I've got it down, I think. Thanks for showing me, love.”

Genya smiles and unwraps himself from Gideon, settling into a laying position so he can rest. “Of course.”

Gideon watches him settle, smiling and reaching to cup his arm affectionately. “I love you. I'll wake you in a couple of hours if there's nothing.”

Genya hums contently as he closes his eyes, settling in. “Love you too.”

[alixinwwonderland]

“Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

It has been a very, very long day.

Midge isn't complaining, to be clear. The NBC gig is the biggest step in her career yet, and it turns out that she really enjoys working in television - something she hadn't expected. There's a whole new crew of people who have quickly gone from work acquaintances to actual friends, and it turns out that it's really, really nice to have more than one or two friends "in the business."

That being said, however, their friendship can't fill one very specific void in her life. Specifically, the one left by a particular tall, curly-haired comic who she hasn't seen since a bittersweet airport run-in that left far too many things unsaid.

She always knew that, if they crossed that line, things wouldn't ever be able to be the same. What she didn't expect was him fucking off to California, just days after handing her her ass (and multiple orgasms), leaving her to dwell on... well, a lot of things: what she could have done differently, what he might be doing now, whether all is really as "well" as he claimed, what his hands felt like on her...

Most days, she's able to push those thoughts out of mind. Today, though, was a two-episode filming day, her mother is in a flurry over some petty act of sabotage, and Joel is being particularly Joel. In short, she's too tired to fend off the thoughts and the longings that creep in when she lets her guard down.

So when she stumbles out of the studio, declining the crew's offer for a late-night bite, all she wants is to go home, take her shoes off, and pretend that she's not wishing she had someone to go home to.

Despite working side-by-side with Alfie, Midge doesn't really believe much in magic. That is, until the voice she most wants to hear emerges from the shadow outside the stage door entrance.

"That was quite the show tonight, Mrs. Maisel."

She whips her head around just in time to see Lenny pushing himself forward from where he was leaning against the wall. Her eyes can't help scanning over him, eagerly searching for any clues about what he's been up to since they last saw each other. There's a familiar exhaustion in the slouch of his shoulders and something unsettled in the twitch of his fingers. But his face looks a little fuller (though those cheekbones should still be in an art museum somewhere), his eyes are as clear and sharp as ever, and the little smile playing at the corners of his mouth has the same effect it always has on her.

"Gee thanks, Mr. Bruce," she says. "Someone told me 'just work, and keep working,' so. Here I am. Working."

"Sounds like a very wise someone," he quips.

"Sometimes. Other times, he's a complete bonehead who can dish out advice but won't take it," Midge says pointedly. He at least has the grace to look abashed.

"It sounds like maybe he just needed a little time after the right someone gave him some tough advice. Maybe that's something you can relate to?"

And damn him, because of course she can. That's always been at the heart of their... whatever this is. They're nothing alike on the outside, save for their signature color and chosen profession. But inside, where no one can see, something within each of them found something kindred from that very first police car ride.

"Maybe," she allows. "But I'm still mad! But..." She takes the risk, reaching up to smooth at his lapels and leave her hand there. "I'm also really happy to see you."

He places his hand over hers, then lifts it so he can press his lips to it.

"Got anywhere special to be tonight?" he asks. When she shakes her head no, he nods seriously. "Let's go. I'll buy you dinner... and maybe, breakfast?"

"We've got a lot to talk about before breakfast, mister," Midge warns as they head down the sidewalk. "But," she allows, "what kind of girl do you think I am? I don't buy breakfast, I make breakfast. In my own kitchen," she stresses, and oh boy is she in trouble when she sneaks a sidelong glance just in time to see him lose the battle to keep a broad, boyish grin from breaking across his face.

[hyunnieshannie]

Boundless

Series: Boundless

Pairing: Hyunjin x Female Reader Part: 4

Genre/General Warnings: Fantasy AU || Non Idol Au || Kumiho Hyunjin || harsh words (swearing) || Dom!Hyunjin || degradation || mentions of anxiety || mentions of sex as a dare || self esteem issues || mentions names of other idols || SLOW burn || Mentions of death <none of the mains> || (Anything else I have missed just let me know and will be added in, more warnings will be added with each chapter update)

I really hope Y'all are liking this, it's a bit of an experiment piece while I write my other fic, and I know it's a whole lotta slow story line for now but I PROOOOMISE it's about to pick up in the next chapter &lt;;3

PREVIOUS MASTER LIST NEXT

After you have calmed down from the sudden yet hot interaction with Hyunjin your brain finally starts to clear the fog that had clouded your judgment. Did I really just… “Fuck,” you mutter, as you stand alone in the hallway of the cottage. Your body temperature begins to lower back to its normal, but your mind continues racing about how it felt to be hoisted up against the wall, legs wrapped around his slender hips, how his lips felt against yours his tongue playing softly with yours and how the pleasurable pain felt on your neck as he bit you lightly, how the warmth of his body radiated and only rose in temperature as he himself became hungrier for your touch. You vigorously shake your head, in attempts to rid your mind of the thoughts plaguing it. It had been a while since someone had taken charge like that, and your mind only wished to replay it in your head over and over and over again, until it paused remembering not only Felix’s words of warning but Hyunjins as well ‘You don’t want me, that’s just the effects.’  “I need to get out of here,” you whisper to yourself. 

“She survived out here, shouldn’t that mean anything?” Felix’s voice booms, he stands there face to face with a guilty looking Hyunjin. Hyunjin’s eyes are glazed over as if he truly feared how his friend was speaking to him, “Hyune,” Felix says, his voice now softer, “we can’t just leave her to fend for herself, we should figure out where she came from and get her home where she belongs.'' His mind is racing, truthfully Felix could leave you to wander on your own, because he was raised with the mindset of the forest. But he saw this as an opportunity to keep Hyunjin around, to not lose him once more, to no longer be alone. 

“We?” Hyunjin starts, his head lowering to face the ground beneath him, Felix knew Hyunjin’s plan on leaving, but he couldn’t let it happen. Not again. 

“You’re not just going to leave me with her are you?” Felix is unsure as to how else to get his friend, his brother. To stay with him. It had been months since he had last seen him, and he refused to go any longer without his one sense of home. 

“You know I can’t stay Lix,” 

“You’re safer here.” 

“I can’t Lixie,” Hyunjins voice cracks, as tears begin to well up in his eyes, “I can’t stay with you, and I can’t stay near her, I-” he sighs deeply, “I almost- I could have-” Hyunjins thoughts raced, as he recalls almost devouring you whole, how the effects of the foxes charm had taken over you, and how if he had not stopped holding you he’d have most likely killed you.

“If I’m imposing. I can just go. I'll figure out how to get home on my own.” you say as you march up to the two boys, Hyunjins eyes never meet yours, but Felix’s stare burns through you, you begin to walk off heading directly into the forest. The images of the night before are replaced once again by the thriving green vegetation, soft moss under your feet and the creek nearby runs softly. Felix runs towards you grabbing at your wrist pulling you back to face him, 

“You’re not imposing.” he whispers, Hyunjin now staring back at the two of you, “and you,” he turns to face the all of a sudden shy boy behind him, “You aren’t going anywhere either. You can leave once we get her home.” Hyunjin nods lightly, but within the poor boy's head were only worries for Felix and your safety. Felix drags the two of you back into the cottage, still holding you by the wrist and taking Hyunjin by the neck pushing him forward. Once inside he sits you down and asks you to explain everything. 

“Well I was in my dorm,” the two look visibly confused, “And the book someone gave me lit up, and all of a sudden I woke up in the forest.” there was nothing else to explain, that was exactly what had happened. 

“A book? Lit up?” Felix mumbles, 

“Told you she’s not from anywhere.” 

“But that's just not possible.” he contemplates any other possible reasoning, “Are you sure you didn’t just wander in from the town?” 

“Look at her Lixie, does she look like shes from the town?” Hyunjin scoffs, “There's only one person who’d know where she came from and thats-”

“Do you know how long it would take to find him?” Felix groans, internally though he’s happy to know he’d be able to have his brother around for longer, “Fine.” Felix stands and walks towards his room, “We’ll go tomorrow,” he throws on a wool sweater and heads for the door once more, “I’ll go find Jeongin, he knows those parts of the forest better than anyone,” he says before heading out and disappearing into the forest. 

“Sorry about everything you heard.” Hyunjin mutters, still a look of guilt is written across his face, 

“It seems that my being here is an issue.” you say, 

“It’s not that.” Hyunjin looks up at you finally meeting your eyes, there's a hint of pain hiding behind them as he opens his mouth to speak, “Felix just isn’t used to other humans being here. Or anyone for that matter.” he looks towards the room you had been using the night before, standing up and heading towards it. Instinctively you follow, as he slowly roams the room reminiscing of past memories he’d thought he had long forgotten. “This used to be my room.” he smiles, “I was just a kid, when he found his way here.” you look around, carefully studying each corner of the room, scratch marks lined the lower half of the walls, and light indents marked heights across the door frame. Other than that, with the exception of a bed and dresser the room was empty. 

“He told me he wandered into the forest as a kid. No one searched for him,” 

“They thought he was dead.” 

“He also told me about that, that humans aren't meant to be within the forest.” 

“It wasn’t always like that,” Hyunjin sits on the bed, looking at it fondly, “years ago, anyone could come and go from the forest. Magic and non magical weren’t at war. It wasn’t until the queen went missing, and the hunting began.” 

“Hunting?” you ask, now creeping your way towards him, 

“Here's the thing, the queen was young. Impressionable. They say the king never laid with her, but one day she had turned out to be pregnant. And then she just vanished.” he sighs, “The king blames us.” he looks around the room once more, “And began hunting us.  With that the guardian sealed off the forest, deeming the hunting of forest life, a declaration of war.” Just like that a hatred was born? “By the time I was born, the forest had already been sealed off to the humans.” 

“How did you come across Felix?” you wonder, 

“My mother told us, when we were about ten,” he stands heading to the door and lightly running his fingers over the indentations carved within it, “She had come outside, and found a child happily snuggling up to a young pup, at first she was taken back by him, and then realized quickly after observing our interaction that she had nothing to worry about, according to her it was a once in a lifetime event, as if we had found something within each other.” he smiles lightly, “A bond like no other,” he mimics the words of his mother, he walks back to his spot on the bed lightly sitting on it as he spoke “She took him in and raised us as brothers. She raised him like another one of her pups. Taught him to live carefully, and soon enough the forest accepted him as one of her children, the guardian even-” 

“The guardian even granted me a gift.” Felix sighs from behind him, “But it was mom who suffered over it in the end.” you look towards the teary eyed Felix, who crouched down patting a whimpering fox at his side. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“It was.” the young fox’s ears dropped as it cuddled against Felix, nudging him with his head. “They took her because of me.” 

“You were young,” Hyunjin sighs, “And I was there too.” you look between the two boys and the small fox, 

“If it wasn’t for me Jeongin…” 

“Jeongin is fine.” Hyunjin smiles, “Look at him, he grew up just fine.” the small fox wags its tail before coming in to its human form, the pink haired boy sat silently beside Felix holding him softly, 

“You can’t keep carrying that weight on your own,” he says, “Hyunjin, you, me. We have each other and that's what matters right?” The heartfelt comment sends a pain to your chest, as you watch the three hold each other for a moment. Jeongin stands and brushes himself off before making his way to you and greeting you formally, “Hello Y/N, pleasure to meet you.” he extends a hand but your hesitant to take it, “Don’t worry,” he smiles, “The effects of contact won't be a problem,” you look to Felix who nods approvingly, and take Jongin's hands. He freezes for a moment as he stares deeply into your eyes, “A piece of you is-” Hyunjins head lowers as Jeongin speaks, “Jinnie..” he whispers quickly looking back at him, 

“It was an accident,” Hyunjin speaks low, in almost a whisper, if he had been in his fox form, his tail would be between his legs and ears lowered. 

“What?” Felix asks, clearly just as confused as you are, 

“You could have killed her, Jinnie. She’s not from here, it's not like you’re just having a snack! Her life, her soul Jinnie, it’s much more delicate, you need to be more careful!” Jeongin shouts, sighing as he looks towards Hyunjin, 

“What did you do…” Felix says turning to Hyunjin, 

“I stopped it the second I realized I got too close,” Hyunjin says, “This is why I should go. You and Jeongin can take it from here yeah?” 

“And how will you ever learn Jinnie? How will you control yourself without ever making contact?” 

“I have made contact!” Hyunjin tries to defend himself, 

“You should have had a handle on this when you turned sixteen Jinnie,” Jeongin sighs, “It’s not on you,” he sighs once more before running his hand through his hair, “This would make good practice for you anyways.” 

“Practice?” you ask, still unsure of the conversation being had in front of you, the overwhelming amount of information being thrown around is going in one ear and out the other, you could barely retain any of it. “Yes,” Jeongin smiles, “He can practice controlling his urges when something delicious, and sweet is inviting him to bite into it.” you look between the three boys standing there, what the fuck is that supposed to mean.