#she's gonna be a test muse for now

[starvingtongue]

dona tag drop

[prestonmonterey]

ughhhh someone kill me i think i might like stay on the third floor today i actually cant deal with her today

[ladyseidr]

i spent two hours straight last night in a fucking trance writing an entire bio for elise af.ton, my mrs. af.ton so uh. hi. LMAO

[palisraven]

Oh, Titan, those words.

'Mayhaps I'd rather die alone than suffer the assistance of a witch!'

Tears welled in her eyes and rather than keep yelling, her ears drooped and she turned away. "You're just as stubborn..." she muttered under her breath as she marched away. As she walked away, her hand gently held her stomach, the tears falling freely as the pain sank deep in her chest.

However, just a week or so later, she made her way to the edge of the territory that she knew was his and left a note.

I doubt you'll bother to read this in full, so I'll put the important part at the beginning: you have my deepest apologies for my behavior. I fear my emotions have been quite out of sorts with the pregnancy. I simply wished to extend the kindness that my husband sought to put into the world after he left the human world and decided to live here in the Isles with me. Regardless, I don't wish to drag this on and on. I do not know what I could possibly do to convince you of my intentions, so I'll leave you be. Best Regards, E. Clawthorne

Along with the note, she left a little red feather.

Valor took a step back, his ears pinning back at the raise in voice. But he responded with just as much aggression, his lips pulling back to show his teeth. "Well maybe I would rather survive alone!" he snarled.

He wasn't going to get the potion now, not with her acting like this. He didn't have it on him, anyway, and he especially wasn't going to lead her straight back to his hammock.

[marvelfilth]

Her idiot

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: your night out with Thor and Valkyrie leaves Natasha worried unimpressed.

Masterlist

“Nat-”

“No.”

“But-”

“But no.”

“Just let me-”

“Shut up.”

Your mouth promptly snaps shut, the sound of teeth clattering echoing through the empty Compound.

You're being dragged to Natasha’s room, or you hope you are - you wouldn't put it past Natasha to lock you in one of the holding cells in the basement. You kinda deserve it. You can admit that even in your current inebriated state.

She drags you upstairs once you reach the end of the hallway, your shoes squeaking on the concrete, making you grimace with each step you make.

You're also starting to get cold.

You're not stupid enough to tell her that.

Wanda's head pokes out of her room, her eyes bleary with sleep and her expression pure confusion. Her eyes grow twice their size once she sees the state you're in. And then she laughs, shaking her head.

“You're so dead,” she whispers when you pass by and ducks back into her room lest Natasha unleashes her wrath on her.

You gulp.

Yeah.

You probably are.

Natasha halts her stride, opens the door to her room, and pushes you inside.

“You better not get any of that on my carpet,” she growls, tugging off your drenched shirt.

You're thankful you've had enough of a mind to leave your heavy winter coat by the lake before you decide to-

“Off.” Natasha gestures at your feet, putting a stop to your musings. You shrug off your dirty boots, carefully leaving them by the door. As carefully as you can, that is. The room is spinning a bit, and Natasha's face is a little blurry around the edges.

Then, she tugs down your jeans, making you wince as the harsh wet fabric slides down your legs. She looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry,” you whisper, hugging yourself.

You're starting to shake, a little bit. And your teeth won't stay put. Or is it your jaw?

Natasha sighs and leads you to the bathroom. It's already full of steam and the bath is full of bubbles, and you sag in relief, almost tearing off your underwear in haste to jump in.

You moan the second you sink into the warmth.

“You do know how stupid that was, right?”

You nod, wishing you could hide from her gaze.

“Then why?”

Your cheeks redden, not from the warmth, but from the sheer embarrassment. Now that you've sobered a little, none of the fun and entertaining ideas Thor and Valkyrie proposed sound fun and entertaining.

She sighs again, and starts gently threading her fingers through your hair, untangling the knots she finds there.

“You're not drinking with them ever again.”

“Okay.”

“And you're not going anywhere near that damned lake anytime soon.”

You wince at the memory of falling through the thin layer of ice after successfully making it halfway across the lake - just like Thor dared you to - and then swimming under said thin layer of ice the remaining half of the way and emerging on the other side, right in front or very angry and very concerned Natasha.

You're probably gonna-

“And you're sleeping on the couch.”

-sleep on the couch. Yep.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You're an idiot.”

“I am.”

She snorts. “It's very hard to stay mad when you're being so pliant.”

You bite on your lower lip, keeping a bashful grin from emerging. You decide to test your luck when the fond glint in your girlfriend's eyes intensifies.

“So no couch for me, then?”

Her eyes narrow, lips pursing. “You can sleep on the floor if you'd like.”

No luck. Ugh.

“Okay. Couch it is.”

She hums, leaving your side to retrieve a warm fluffy tower. You get up, almost falling into Natasha's arms when you slip. She wraps the towel around your shoulders, holding you against her chest.

“I love you,” you mumble into the crook of her neck, your body buzzing with love, warmth and remnants of alcohol. “So much.”

“And I love you. Even when you're being an idiot, which is-”

“Always?” You interrupt with a grin, pulling away just a tad to see the expression on her face.

Her eyes sparkle in the low light, the lines of her face all soft. “Yes. Always.”

[peachesofteal]

Light on -single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt(s): fire alarm, reader backstory, reader cooks for Simon, requested by multiple.

The chair at your kitchen table is small. 

It’s so small, he’s half afraid he might break it, the rickety wood creaking under his weight, and he shifts, leaning back to test its ability, hoping it won’t give way on him. The wood makes a louder groaning sound, and your voice carries from the hall, half of a jest in your tone. 

“Are you trying to break my furniture?” Shit. 

“No.” He shoots to his feet, patting the little wooden chair like he’s trying to comfort it, embarrassed that he’d been caught. “Jus��� trying to test it, make sure it’s not gonna collapse on me.” 

You have an eyebrow raised, returning from your bedroom with a pajama clad Emmaline, little red onesie dotted with deer, your hand patting her back firmly and bouncing her in your arms at the same time, her little brow furrowed like she’s irritated with you. 

“It’s fine. I’m just kidding.” You look down at her and sigh. “Are you going to let me put you down so I can finish dinner?” 

“I can take her.” He offers, and you flash him a relieved smile. 

“Hear that?” You hum in her ear, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Your favorite person wants to hang out with you.” His stomach clenches. 

“Come here baby girl. Let’s let mum have a break, yeah?” He reaches, and you bend down to place her in his arms, the smell of your skin, your hair, the scent of your laundry detergent flooding his senses. Emmaline is so small in his hands, but he’s growing more comfortable holding her, and when she settles against him easily, he can’t help the warmth that flares in his heart, overflowing through his body with pride, and… something else. Something strong. Something he thinks he knows the name of, but is too afraid to voice. Something that has him dreaming about giving you his last name, giving it to Emmaline too, tacking Riley onto the end of both you, as a stamp, a seal, a promise.

“She still needs to burp.” You tell him softly, pulling the cloth from your shoulder and arranging it onto his, fingers lingering when you smooth it out. “Do you know-“ 

“Yeah.” He assures, swiftly, and you smile again, hand brushing against his when you give her on last little pat on her back. 

“Okay. I’ll work on dinner then.” 

“You ah- don’t have to keep feeding me.” He tells you, even though the full plate of pot roast with stewed carrots, potatoes, and gravy makes his mouth water, massive portion settled in front of him like you’re trying to make sure he’s never hungry again. 

What a good girl, he muses indulgently. Good little mum. Good little wife. Emmaline coos in his arms, still awake, settled on his knee with her back to his stomach, one hand firm around her tummy. He bounces her, one hand with a fork stabbing into a carrot, the other holding her steady. Safely. 

“I can take her, if you want to-“ 

“No. You sit.” He inclines his head, and you blink, before automatically folding into the chair diagonal from him with your own plate. The room is quiet, fork chiming against china, until you speak again. 

“I don’t mind it.” You swallow, taking a long sip of water. “Cooking. For you.” You whisper it to your plate, like it’s a secret, like you’re ashamed, and he tamps down the urge to reach for you. “You do so much for us, you’ve- I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re mine now, sweetheart. You don’t have to repay me. It’s my job to take care of you. Take care of you both. It almost all comes out of his mouth, but instead he changes hands on the baby, putting his fork down and extending the one closest to you, palm open on the table, a gentle entreaty. 

“I don’t mind, helping. Someone’s gotta take care of you girls.” Your eyes go wide, lips parting, before you’re collecting yourself, looking down into your lap with a stunned little smile. “Sweetheart, I-“ 

The words are robbed from him, stolen by a screeching, blaring noise in the hallway, a high-pitched alarm that has him out of the chair, shoving the table with one hand and positioning himself between the door and you, curled over Emmaline who’s now crying, startled. 

“Fire alarm.” You wince, but when he doesn’t relax, your expression goes waxy, soothing, and your hand finds the inside of his elbow. “It’s just a fire alarm, Simon. People fuck with the pull station now and then. Probably nothing.” It takes a second, a second too long for his brain to catch up, and when it does, he blanches, looking you over for fear, repulsion, of him. Distaste of the secondhand reaction that he just cannot control. 

He doesn’t find it. Only blithe acceptance. Understanding. He clears his throat. “Let’s get outside then.” 

It’s cold outside. Winter is in full swing, and he’s happy he forced you into your winter jacket when did, amid your distraction, too pre-occupied with wrestling a screaming Emmaline into her coat and hat, swaddling her up in a fluffy blanket before you even stopped to think about yourself. 

“It won’t be long.” You tell him, alternating between trying to soothe the baby’s frantic tears, and looking around anxiously. “Station seventy-four is just a few blocks north.” Station seventy-four? “Look, see?” You point, cooing at Emma, red emergency lights flashing down the street. You stray closer to him, pressing into his side, and he puts his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder. You’re… nervous, and he’s not sure why. The fire alarm didn’t seem to rattle you too much but now, you’re chewing on your lip, eyes scanning across the people milling about outside. 

“You alright?” He murmurs, and you nod. 

“Just cold.” You reply through clenched teeth. 

It doesn’t take long for the fire service to get the building sorted, and once they give the all clear, you break from his side, beelining towards the front of the building. He’s about to jog after you, surprised at the pace that you've managed to make, when he hears someone calling your name. Practically yelling it, and he pulls up short.

It's a firefighter. He approaches you with an open palm, like he's trying to corner a wounded animal, and your face pinches at the corners, hand cradling the back of Emmaline's head. Simon inches closer, getting within ear shot, using the dark and the people still scattered about to sink into shadow, becoming Ghost, silent, unnoticed, and lethal. Nearly unseen.

"-are you?" The firefighter asks, staring at the baby in your arms with wide eyes.

"I'm fine. We're fine." You reply stiffly, looking away with a grim, haunted expression.

"You never come down to the station... we'd- we'd love to see you both. Or if you ever needed anything, we're here for you. We-"

"Thanks." you cut him off, trying to turn away, but he steps after you, protesting.

"I know it doesn't-"

"Officer." An older man interrupts, sharply, and the younger firefighter straightens.

"Captain."

"You're needed for system reset." He instructs, and the officer takes one last look at you, something conflicted in his face, before nodding and stepping away. "He's not wrong." The Captain tells you gently, and you shake your head.

"We don't need anything from you."

"You need community. Support. The station is a family, we look after our own."

"I'm not your own." You snap. "He was! He was your own. And how well did you look after him, Captain?" The words are vicious, pointed like arrows, seeking to maim, to hurt, and the look on your face is so anguished, so tormented, that Simon can't stand to see it for one more second.

"Everything alright?" He steps between you and the Captain, positioning his body so that you're half hidden, and your shoulders immediately slump, tension draining from you when you look up into his face.

"Yeah, let's go inside. It's too cold out." You tell him, and he nods, casting a glance over his shoulder at the frowning man, letting his hand slide over your shoulder and down your spine, directing you inside and keeping you close.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks again once you're in the hallway outside your door, and you turn into him, close enough that he can lean his nose down to skim through your hair.

"I'm okay." You whisper, fingers finding his at his hip. "We're okay."

[queers-gambit]

Not So Heavenly Surprise

prompt: you share exciting news with your husband but don't receive the reaction you thought you'd get. and then, the Outbreak.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!wife!reader only height mentioned: you're shorter than Joel

fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us

word count: 7.2k+

warnings: angst, angst, angst, slutty angst club, cursing, character death, major major major spoilers, death of a child, descriptive language - we talk about death and dead bodies!!! canon-level violence! NOT edited!!! (will get around to it) this work is super NOT FOR MINORS ❗️season one, episode one spoilers

September 02nd, 2002 one year before Outbreak Day

"You're going to have to tell him," you sighed to your reflection, trying to amp up the bravery. "He's gonna notice, you don't want him questioning anything, now do you? No, nope, no way, you don't. Okay, so, that's it - you're gonna tell him when he gets home. No big deal."

There was a knock at the door, Sarah calling, "Are you okay in there?"

"Girl!" You laughed, reaching for the knob and opening it to see her. "Ever heard of this thing called 'privacy'?"

"Not in this house," She smirked. "Can I get in? Wash my face?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," you moved out of her way, continuing with your nightly routine.

"So, who were you talking to?"

"Myself," you mused. "It helps me work out big decisions."

"Oh, so, you're finally gonna tell Dad you're pregnant?"

"What!?" You yelped, dropping the jar of night cream and groaning when it dolloped out from the fall - landing on your foot. "What the hell, Sarah?"

"What? You're surprised I figured it out?" She teased. "I found the pregnancy test."

"What? You were digging in the trash?"

"Well, if you must know, I dropped the toothpaste in there and found it when I was fishing it out..."

"Sarah," you sighed.

"You know he's going to be really happy, right?" She smiled at you, massaging her cheeks to curate foam from her face wash.

"Maybe," you sighed, stooping to clean your mess. "But I've been trying to figure out what to say."

"What's to say? Just tell him," she giggled. "C'mon, you guys have been married 8 years now! Isn't this, like, what was supposed to happen?"

"Well, yeah, but - "

"But nothing," Sarah laughed. "You're getting all nervous for nothing. It's just Dad, he loves you. He's going to be happy, I promise."

You sighed, nodding slowly, "All right, well, I'll try to tell him tonight."

"There is no try, only do."

"You did not just quote Star Wars to me!"

"Well, is Yoda wrong?"

You whined a little, "No..."

"So, get it done," she smiled. "This is really exciting."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "I've always wanted to be a big sister."

"You'd kick ass as one," you agreed.

"Think how upset and flustered Dad will be when I teach Baby to curse!"

"Sarah, you teach the kid any curse words and I'll wash your own mouth with soap," you teasingly warned with a pointed finger. "I'm a little nervous, I think," you admitted.

"Why? Daddy loves you, he'll be really happy," Sarah defended. "Maybe a little shocked, but he'll be over the moon with joy."

"You think?"

"I know," she nodded. "Tell him tonight!"

"Tell who, what?" Tommy asked, appearing in the doorway to make you both shriek.

"What happened!?" You heard Joel, but then, everything was drowned out as you and Sarah started yelling at Tommy for scaring the shit outta you both. Joel appeared in time to see his little brother throw his hands up in defense, laughing at the two of you.

"Not cool, man!" You barked, shaking your head. "Didn't hear y'all come in, the hell's wrong wit'chu?"

"Y'all didn't lock the front door, again," Tommy smirked. "I came up real quick and quiet."

"Jackass," you muttered, wiping your hands on a towel before exiting the room. "Hi, baby," you muttered to Joel, pausing to rock onto your toes and plant a kiss to your husband's lips.

"Hi, honey," he mused, arm anchoring your waist. "What's with the screamin'?"

"Your brother's an ass," you pouted, giving your best exaggerated bottom lip.

"You had it comin', darlin'," Tommy teased. "Told you to lock up, huh?"

"Why're you even here? Why are you always! Here!?" You whined lightly. "Go home!"

"I'm staying the night," he mocked gently.

"You better not clean my fridge out," you warned him with slitted eyes. "I just went to the shop."

"You get them cookies you like?" Tommy perked a brother, watching your eyes widen a small fraction. "YOU DID!" Tommy laughed, turning, and bolting down the stairs - making you yelp and start yelling after him, following closely.

Joel and Sarah could be heard laughing from upstairs.

It was close to midnight by the time you and Joel finally settled for bed. Sarah's homework was done, whole family fed, Tommy was nursing a bonked head with a small ice pack, and you and Joel were turning your bed down.

"Hey, uh," you cleared your throat as you both got in the sheets, "so, I was wonderin' somethin'."

"What's that, sugar?"

"What do you think of when you consider the future?"

Joel paused, then shrugged, "We go to Nashville with Sarah this summer."

"No, baby, I mean the future - like, years from now."

Joel chuckled, "Uh, I don't know, baby, I just think of you and Sarah and Tommy... There's not many others left 'round."

"That's all?"

"I don't know, I think sometimes when Sarah goes off to college, that girl's goin' on a scholarship, you know? So, you and I could maybe take some time for a vacation. Finally take you on that honeymoon I promised."

You hummed, settling against his chest, "Where we goin'?"

"You know I'd take you wherever you wanted," he sighed, "but maybe we could afford... I don't know, trip to... Vegas?"

"So we can renew our vows with Elvis?"

"Why not?" He chuckled, squeezing your hip. "Might be fun, right?"

"You just wanna see the strippers."

"Can you blame me?"

You laughed and smacked his chest, "Easy, mister, you're on thin ice."

Joel laughed lightly, "You know I'm teasin', darlin'. C'mon, anywhere we could, where would you go?"

"Oh, the Maldives, without a doubt.," You smirked. "But how about we keep it simple? Go to, say, Paris?"

Joel snickered, "That's simple?"

"City of Love for our honeymoon? Baby, I'd say that's more cliché than anything. Besides, don't you wanna kiss me at the top of the Eiffel Tower?"

"'Course, sugar, but the food there?"

"Oh, like you've ever been!" You laughed, looking up at him. "Don't talk shit when you don't know."

"Hmm," he considered, "solid advice, sweetheart."

He reached out to caress the side of your cheek, making you sigh, "One thing's missin' though..."

"What's that?" Joel smirked.

"We'd have to find a babysitter."

"Sarah will be older than - "

"No, no, baby, not talkin' 'bout Sarah."

"Who, then?" He chuckled. "Tommy? Though he likes proving us wrong, he can take care of himself."

"No, I'm talking about a babysitter for us."

"Lost me again, sweetheart."

You stared at him for a moment, then admitted, "I'm pregnant. So, we'd need to find a sitter 'cause we'd have a little one by then." However, Joel just stared down at you, brows slowly furrowing as he processed your words. "Joel?" You wondered when he didn't answer, but instead, looked off past you. "Honey, you still with me?"

"I heard you," he grit, making you instantly sit up and off of him.

"Joel?"

He sighed deeply, "Why'd you have to do that?"

"I'm sorry?"

Joel sat up and swung his legs from bed, making you feel instantly smaller than you actually were. "Why'd you have to go and do that? Huh? Get pregnant?"

"Joel - "

"No, what the hell's this!?" He demanded, looking far too upset than you ever considered. "You're pregnant? You're really pregnant?"

"Yes - "

"God fuckin' damn it!" Joel swatted at a lamp, knocking it over, and waking the entire house - not that either Tommy or Sarah were asleep yet. "You can't seriously be pregnant!" Joel barked at you, and if he could, you knew he'd be gnashing his teeth.

"Why is this such a shock?" You asked. "This is what happens when you're married - "

"You were supposed to be on birth control!"

"It's only so much effective when you're cumming in me like some sex doll!" You snapped back, aware of your loudness.

"Don't turn this on me!"

"I'm not! Fuck's sake, I'm happy about this!" You stood from the bed, too. "I'm happy we're havin' a baby! Why're you reacting this way?"

"We can't afford a baby right now!" Joel looked enraged now. "We don't got the space - fuckin' Tommy crashes the couch! Where we puttin' a whole baby, huh? Where we puttin' a kid? How're we gonna afford more groceries? More schoolin'? You didn't think this through, now, did you!?"

"Fuck's sake, Joel, do I need to give you a sex-ed course? Explain how you're just as much in this as I am? I didn't do this to myself, we both took risks - but I didn't think this was gonna be an issue! I thought you'd want this!"

"When have I ever said I wanted another kid? Huh? Don't put words in my mouth, woman! I got Sarah, ain't no kid better than that! Why would I even want to bother? Knowing our situation!? You think you're ready to be a mom? All you do is work, and it makes you a pretty shaky stepmother! Neither of us are in a place to just stop and take care of a kid, we're in too deep with our current bills!"

You felt too stunned to speak, every defense you had lowering in pure sadness as tears collected in your eyes. "You serious, right now?"

"Completely," he sighed, hands to his hips.

"So, you... You don't want this baby?"

Joel's jaw flexed. "Not right now, no."

"Okay," you sighed.

"I can't take care of another kid," he shook his head. "Look, why can't Sarah be enough? You've known her her whole life."

"Why is it so wrong to wonder what it's like to be pregnant? To have my own child? Since you have Sarah."

"We have Sarah," he snapped.

"No... We don't, since I'm only a shaky stepmother."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No? How'd you mean it?" You wondered sarcastically. "Maybe that I won't be a good mother? That you don't want a kid with me, is it? Whatever, Joel, look, there's no compromise here. You don't want this baby, but I do... So, this it is."

"What is? To what?"

"Us," you sighed, gesturing between you. "If you really don't want this baby, then I don't see how we can still participate in a marriage."

"The fuck - "

"I won't stay where I'm not wanted."

"I want you, just not the baby!"

"So, understand this. Because I'm growing that baby currently, you simply don't want me. So, it's all right, now. I'll get my shit and get out, figure out what to do movin' forward, and I'll have the divorce papers sent - "

"Like hell, you are!" Joel raged.

"How're we gonna fix this then!?"

"Fuckin' Christ, woman, you really know how to piss me off! This ain't my issue - this is your problem. But we ain't gettin' a divorce, so, you better figure it out."

You scoffed, "Who the hell even are you?"

"Come again?"

You gestured at him, "This is not who I married."

"Neither are you. When we got married, you said Sarah was more than enough - "

"You know what? Feelin's change!"

Joel scoffed, "Yeah, fuckin' tell me 'bout it."

"Wow," you sighed, turning for the closet, muttering, "wow, wow, wow, wow, WOW!"

"Fuck!" Joel snapped. "C'mon, doll, don't do this."

He watched you pack a suitcase frantically, the fight continuing to wage farther into the night. Back and forth, you two went round after round after round, trying to make the other understand and see reason. To Joel, it was a matter of financials and space. To you? It was everything else.

By 3 am, you had finally packed your necessary belongings into two bags - a suitcase and purse - before you were charging down the stairs with Joel still hollering after you. Tommy was in the living room, pacing, and Sarah was laid on the couch, eyes red and swollen as she clutched a pillow to her chest. You came to a halt when you saw them both, Joel still sneering but silencing himself when he saw what you stared at.

Just like that, he understood his brother and daughter had heard every word he shouted at you, and never had he felt such shame. You swallowed harshly, nodding at Tommy before looking to Sarah. With a wobbling smile, you managed to garble, "I'm sorry."

"Mama, wait!" Sarah gasped, shooting off the couch as you fled for the front door; Tommy catching her around her waist. "No! No! Daddy, go get her! Don't go! Mama! Please! What's happening? Why won't you go after her!?"

But to Tommy's shock and horror, Joel silently descended the stairs to push the front door closed and locked it - bolting them inside and his wife outside. "Joel," Tommy shook his head, confusing marring his features. "The hell happened?"

But Joel only sighed, turned, and headed up the stairs again. Not a moment later, his bedroom door closed - making Tommy release Sarah. She rushed to the door but stopped, only staring out, and Tommy understood she could no longer see your car.

"Hey, Sarah?" Tommy called softly. "You can stay home from school tomorrow. All right?"

She only nodded silently, taking a seat at the front door and just watching. He frowned, wanting to shoo her off to bed, but understood that her child-like mind could only understand so much. She wanted to wait for you to come home, she wanted to see you coming... However, the following morning, Joel found his daughter slumped against the front door and his brother on the stairs from watching her.

His heart had plummeted to his feet when he saw them, more so when he understood you weren't home. The house already felt colder.

September 26th, 2003 Outbreak Day

Your daughter was barely a few months old by the time "it" happened. After leaving Joel, you went home to your parents and they were gracious enough to welcome you and the babe growing in your womb.

They made up your childhood bedroom into a nursery and let you transform their home office into a spare bedroom as your little brother was living in the guest room and older sister in the basement. It was an incredibly tiny room, but it worked for now; and your little girl was a ray of sunshine that you barely noticed how miserable you truly felt.

You hadn't seen Joel since the birth... And before that? Not since your fight. He really didn't want shit to do with your daughter, and while you always told him when your appointments were, he never showed. When you went into labor, your father was the one who called him because you only sobbed through the pain that you wanted your husband. So, Joel showed that day, but didn't go into the delivery room. He just waited outside it, listening, feeling his heart shatter again and again as you begged someone to find your husband, but no matter how your mother and father begged him to go in, he wouldn't. He couldn't.

It was only after the baby was born did he venture in.

You looked beat to hell and the sheets seemed bloodier than usual, but he didn't want to linger. He only nodded at you, hands in his pockets, "Good job... She's real beautiful."

You blinked, glancing over to where a nurse was swaddling the just-cleaned baby. "Thank you," you whispered. Then, he turned to leave, "W-Wait!" You begged, making him pause. "Don't you... I-I don't know, want to help name her?"

Joel sighed, glancing at you over his shoulder, "No, 's all right. Whatever you want, she's your daughter."

Your heart broke all over again, watching him leave. So much so, when the nurse brought your daughter over for you to hold, you broke down in horrendous sobs that the nurse actually shied away. You couldn't breathe from the pain, and it actually set off a few alarms on your hospital monitors.

Your mother watched in despair as a team of professionals had to sedate you in order to calm you down enough; holding her grandbaby and rocking her arms. She waited for days, hoping you'd ask to hold your daughter, but never did. Only when the lactation expert came in to help you nurse your daughter did you actually "willingly" hold her.

It just broke your heart to even look at her because she looked so much like Joel that it should've been illegal. Eventually, you came around and felt as if you couldn't set the baby down, but for the first few days were exhaustingly tough. Your parents were a huge help, but that didn't make it easier on you to try and process life without Joel. You loved your husband, wanted him back, but after his behavior, you couldn't fathom being within 6 feet of him again.

However, life had much different plans.

You didn't feed your baby formula, opting for breast feeding. Ironically, during your pregnancy, you had developed an intolerance to gluten and never wanted flour-products even after giving brith to your daughter. However, your father loved your mother's cookies...

It was nearly 2 am when it happened.

Your father had been the first "Infected" of the family, and only your mother was in their room with him. You heard the thumping and screams, peering out of your room only to see blood pooling from under your parent's closed bedroom door. "Get back," you hissed at your little brother, darting down the hall to your daughter's nursery.

"DADDY! NO!" You heard your brother scream a minute later, panic enveloping you as your daughter started to cry.

"No, no, no, it's okay, hey, hey, it's okay, sweetheart," you whispered, trying to shush her. There wasn't time to spare, and just as you secured your daughter to your chest with tight arms and made it from her room, your father came barreling out of your little brother's room - scaring the shit outta you. "D-Daddy?"

He snarled, neck snapping when he looked at you - but that wasn't your father. No, this creature was something else and while it was in your father's body, it wasn't your Daddy, and you weren't safe here.

"Down here! NOW!" Katie, your older sister called, making you shoot off down the stairs in a blind panic. Your father came crashing down behind you, knocking into your legs as you reached the bottom - forcing you to turn over and land on your back to protect your kid.

"OH MY GOD!" You screamed when your father bolted upright.

"STAY DOWN!"

Your sister swung her softball bat, knocking your father's head back with a sickly snap. He went down, and for a moment, it was all quiet. "What the fuck?" You panted, baby still crying.

"I don't know," Katie panted, reaching for your arms and helping you up. "I-I didn't - I didn't think," she stuttered, looking at your father, who's head was split open and spewing blood. "I-I killed him."

"Between us?" You nodded, "Think he was already dead."

"Where's Mommy? And Billy!?"

"Upstairs..."

"You don't think...?"

"Should we check?"

"What if they're alive and we just left them?" She worried, blinking back tears. "I-I don't know what to do."

"I think we need to get the fuck outta here," you admitted, looking around you two. "We aren't safe here, Katie, we should move."

Just then, there was a thud from upstairs. Your sister uttered your name in fear, and you had to steel yourself. "What do we do?" She whispered.

"Kitchen, there's only one door and the basement," you nodded, the two of you turning and hustling into the room. You looked around and found a long cerated knife, standing at the ready with one arm around your baby.

"What's gonna come for us?"

"Whatever the hell happened to Daddy," you gulped. "I still think we should run for it."

"But Mama - "

"She's probably dead!" You snapped. "But we aren't. We don't have to die if we play smart. I say, we get what we need and get the fuck out of here."

However, before she could answer, there was a snarling from outside the door. Your baby still cried, and soon, the door was bursting open with your mother's Infected body being hurled through the door. Your sister begged your name in a yell and you repeated at her that it's not really your mother - keeping the kitchen island between you three - and that she needed to swing the bat.

However, your little brother came barreling inside right after and knocked into you. It was a struggle as you had to let go of your baby to keep the 10-year-old demon off your body; hip teeth gnashing as pale tendrils came curling out of his mouth.

"NO!"

You couldn't look back at your sister, struggling to keep the suspiciously-strong boy at bay. You used your feet to kick him off you, snatch up the knife, and as he came back - snarling and screaming - you only stabbed the knife up into the underside of his jaw. Yanking free, blood and more came gushing out, and your brother when down.

When you turned, your sister was panting and leaning against a counter. Mother laid dead at her feet. "You good?" You asked.

"Yeah... You?"

"Yeah," you sniffled, moving to collect your baby from the bloody linoleum floor. "Can we get the fuck outta here now?"

"There's no more threat."

"Seriously?" You snapped. "Honey, if it happened here, it's happenin' elsewhere and we need to fucking move before we get left behind. Understand me?"

But then... There was a sickening sound from the only other door in the kitchen... The one leading to the basement...

"Katie?" You called your sister's name, "it's time to run."

"GO!" She screamed when a new body, that of your next door neighbor, came bursting through the door. You both ran, your daughter tight to your chest, and just made it outside your family home when a truck was screeching to a halt.

Joel leapt from the passenger seat, hollering your name in panic, and making you shoot off like a Roman Candle towards him. He caught you easily, holding you and your infant close to his chest as Katie came sprinting from behind you - taking cover behind Joel.

"What - "

"JOEL!" Katie screamed, pointing towards the body rushing from your home.

"Tommy!"

There came a gunshot, making you flinch into his chest as he turned you from the sight. "Get in the truck," Tommy called, Sarah opening the door from the inside to invite Katie in.

"We gotta go, darlin', it's time to go, let's go," Joel muttered to you.

"What the fuck is happenin'?"

"We don't know, but it's bad," he nodded, looking around frantically. "We need off the streets, baby, please, get in the truck."

But you paused, asking him, "You came back for me?"

"For the both of you," he sighed, caressing the top of your daughter's head - who still wailed in fear. "Please, baby, it's time to go - get in the truck." When you did, he rambled, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, all right, Tommy! Let's go!"

When everyone was in and doors shut, a new game began: Get the Hell Outta Dodge.

During the ride, Tommy and Joel filled you and Katie in with what they knew from the broadcasters that were once on the airwaves. Sarah held onto you tightly, infant child still wriggling in your lap and arms. You were trying to flee the suburbs, making for the highway, but it seemed, everyone else who hadn't been killed off had the same idea and created intense traffic.

"We're okay," you whispered to Sarah on repeat, almost in a chant. Katie frowned and slowly reached over Sarah's lap, taking hold of your daughter. You slowly let go only to latch full onto Sarah and try to comfort her with slow rocking and cooed words of encouragement. Joel knew that in your time apart, you and Sarah saw each other often - nearly on a daily basis - and could understand that you were her mother, through-and-through.

You both needed the comfort right now.

Someone to lean on.

Someone to be scared with you instead of saying "buck up."

"Take the field, Tommy!" Katie barked from the back, holding your screaming baby to her shoulder and trying to offer her warmth and comfort. However, it was impossible with the tangible panic and loud blaring of horns and cursing voices. "We can cut across and pick the road up on the west side."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. West, West, all right. All right, hang on," he turned the wheel, everyone bracing for the sharp movement before the bumping of the terrain became wildly uneven.

Around them, other cars followed suit, and the field was soon flooded with civilian cars trying to flee. "The fuck could be happening?" Katie asked you, gulping, "You're the doctor!"

"I-I don't fucking know, Katie, please," you whispered back, gulping in nerves as Tommy drove you all over the grass.

However, when they came over the hill to catch sight of their destination, there was a flooding of lights and choppers in the air. Tommy cursed, "Shit! Fuckin' Army!"

"Isn't that good?" Sarah asked from your embrace.

"It's good for them, but that's the highway we're tryna get to," Tommy explained, coming to a halt as cars flooded past them.

"All right, keep movin'. Head north," Joel advised quietly, his mind trying to settle.

"Could be a lotta people," Tommy argued lightly.

"Well, we can't go south, we can't go east, we can't go west," Joel pointed out. "Hell else we supposed to go?"

"Tommy, fuckin' drive!" You grit, Katie joining you in on the last word.

"Tommy, c'mon!" Joel followed right after. The tires squealed as Tommy pressed on the gas while turning his wheel, making the truck turn and speed off for a distant suburban town; lights in the distance guiding you. "Yeah," Joel muttered. "Yeah, I know that place. This can work."

"Yeah, all right, fine, cool, but then what?" Katie asked. "Where are we supposed to go then?"

"I don't know. Mexico. Just far, far as we can," Joel answered uneasily. "How much gas?"

"Three-quarter tank," Tommy answered.

"Go through town," Joel advised. "Golf course by the river, straight across, we pick up the highway on the other side of the blockade, then we're out."

"I'm gonna throw up," Katie whispered, head tilted back with her eyes closed.

"If you're feelin' sick, hand me my baby," you snapped, looking at her with fear.

"No, girl, it's anxiety," she snapped back. "I'm not sick."

"How can you be sure?" Sarah wondered.

"Cause it would've hit us the same as it did our family..."

"Who'd it hit?" Tommy wondered, looking back.

"We're all that's left," you sighed, saving your sister from answering. "Daddy turned first, then Mama... Billy after... We got out."

"They bite 'chall?" Tommy asked, glancing back.

"No," you answered, looking at Katie. "You bit?"

"Nope, I beat 'em to the punch," she sighed. "Ah, fuck, my stomach."

"Throw up in my truck, darlin'," Tommy muttered, sucking his teeth.

"Throw up on my baby, Kate, and I'll beat 'cho ass," you snipped, perking a warning brow at her.

"Girl," she sighed, glancing at Sarah - who had sat off you in contemplation. "Sarah?" She whispered in wondered.

"Maybe it's everywhere," she voiced, glancing at the two of you sat on either side of her. "Maybe there's nowhere to go..."

"Well, hey, we'll just have to find somewhere safe," you nodded back at her, but furrowed your brow. "Anyone hear that?"

"Oh, shit - "

"What the fuck!?" Tommy called over Katie, glancing up towards the roof as there came a deafening sound of a plane flying far too low to the ground.

"Cover her ears!" You begged Katie, reaching for Sarah to press your hands over her ears. Your sister held your daughter's ears closed - her still screaming bloody murder - as the plane flew over the truck.

"Fuckin' hell!" She looked back, noting the sky. Sarah whipped around, too, only to spy two more planes in the sky - all flying low and at odd angles.

However, ahead of them, cop cars were speeding around the streets and cutting off any route. "Son of a bitch," Tommy cursed. "Gotta go around. Grab somethin'!"

You held onto the designated 'oh shit!' bar over your head as Sarah leaned over to hold Katie and your baby. Tommy took a sharp right into an alley, between buildings. When you all rightened, it was only to see the people on the street running around, screaming, cars zooming past them all. Tommy took a left, then another right, and joined the bustle of the street.

"All right, keep goin', keep goin'," Joel pointed ahead, but tommy blew past a stop sign. "Shit - TOMMY!"

Another car came to a screeching halt, barely missing T-boning the Tommy's truck. They moved on, only to discover people mauling each other in the street - blocking most of their path. "Oh, my God," Sarah whispered, reaching for you as your arm came around her shoulders again as Tommy came to a stall.

"Tommy, you can't stop here," Joel reminded.

"I can't drive through 'em all!"

"Are you serious?" Joel barked. "Just keep goin'!"

However, ahead came the smashing of glass and a stampede of people - all running wildly and making you assume they were Infected, too. "Ohhhhhhh, shit," Katie whimpered.

"Go, go, go, go, back, back, back, back, back, back," Joel encouraged his brother, who hastily switched gears.

"I'm trying!"

However, when you and Sarah looked back to watch the crowd and stay out of Tommy's range of sight, you saw a distant threat and tuned everything else out. "Joel!" You begged, reaching for his arm as the sight of an airborne plane turning in the sky to head back your way was far too pressing right now.

"Dad!" Sarah echoed.

"Holy shit," Katie sobbed, cradling your baby tightly and without you even noticing, put her seatbelt on.

"Move. MOVE!" Joel told Tommy.

The plane took a nosedive into the ground, exploding, and send a flurry of parts around the surrounding area. One of those areas happened to the building you were driving past, and one of the steel parts ricocheted off it and into the truck.

Everything went black.

"Baby? Baby, can you hear me? Hey, hey, hey, darlin', c'mon, open them pretty eyes for me, c'mon, baby, please."

"Fuck," you wheezed, eyes slowly opening.

"Hey, hey, hey, there you are, hey," Joel whispered, Tommy, Katie, and Sarah already out of the truck. "There you go, c'mon, you all right? You hurt?"

"No," you blinked a few times, wiggling your toes and fingers. "Fuck's sake, what happened?"

"Car accident," he nodded, "c'mon, sugar, gotta get up for me," he looked around. "We ain't safe here, c'mon, baby, that's it."

You nodded and let him pull you from the wreckage, grunting when shattered glass pressed into your skin to create long drips of blood that resembled a child's melted-crayon canvas from elementary art class. When out, Sarah kept weight off her ankle and wobbled in her stance, making you frowned, "All right?"

"Ankle," Sarah sniffled.

"We gotta get off the streets!" Tommy called from the other side of the car.

"KATIE!?"

"I got her!" She called back, and then, you could distinguish her shrill crying. You sighed with relief before Tommy was profanely screaming and Joel turned you and Sarah from the car just as an out-of-control police car came smashing into the truck.

"I got her," you told Joel, taking hold of Sarah in full as he nodded in thanks before turning for the wreckage they couldn't get around.

"Tommy!? Tommy!? Katie!? TOMMY!"

The brothers found a glimpse of each other through the flames, Tommy telling his brother, "Head to the river! We'll find a way! Get them outta here, Joel! Go!"

"Take care of my daughter," he nodded back.

"C'mon," Tommy told Katie, and the two were taking off with Tommy's gun slung over his shoulder.

Joel turned back for you and Sarah, gulping nervously at you, "Darlin', listen, I'm so sorry - "

"Joel, now's not the time," you panted. "We gotta go. Okay? We're good right now, but we gotta stay good. Let's get the fuck outta here, please. We can talk later!"

He nodded back, looking at Sarah, who refused, "We can't leave them! K-Katie has D - "

"They'll be fine," Joel insisted. "Tommy's with 'em, they'll look after each other. Can you run?"

"No," she shook her head, making Joel sigh.

"Can you?"

"I'm good," you nodded, worryingly looking at Sarah. "I can carry her - "

"'S all right, darlin'," he muttered, sweeping Sarah into his arms and making her arms latch around his neck. "You keep your eyes on me," he told his daughter. She nodded. "Okay?"

"Okay," Sarah breathed.

"Okay," Joel nodded. "And you don't look anywhere else." Sarah buried her head in her father's neck, his eyes meeting yours. "And you..." He panted, swallowing nervously. "You stay with me, you stay right with me, all right?"

"All right."

"All right," he agreed, hurrying off down the alley. You were true to your word, keeping up with him easily, but both slowing when the end of the alley only lead to a group of Infected motherfuckers feasting on the flesh of other humans.

You panicked for a moment, looking around you, and nearly missing the sound of the a distant explosion - sounding more like a crack from this distance. However, it was enough of a sound to draw the attention of at least one Infected Fucker - who looked up to stare at you, Joel, and Sarah.

Joel lead you to a building behind you - but the Fucker followed. "Joel, go, go, go," you hissed, easily taking the lead to use your body to burst through doors. Joel followed, understanding that because he was carrying Sarah, you had assumed the role of "guide" and wanted to clear his path - but it also cleared a path to be followed.

It made horrendous sounds as it chased you three, literally hauling it's body around as if it had no real control over it. The feeling inside your chest was chaotic, the tension tangible through the air as you lead Joel through the closed-diner.

The creature still followed.

Finally outside, you didn't have to restrict yourself but couldn't find it in you to leave Joel and Sarah behind. If this was the end, it was only right you fell as a family - and while deeply stupid of you, it was oddly poetic. However, as you heard the beast in pursuit just nipping at your heels, so sounded a reverberating gunshot.

It made you pause, looking back to see a headshot had taken the Infected Fucker out, and yet, no obvious sign of the shooter. Joel comforted Sarah, looking down at you - making you nod, telling him you were okay - before looking around again.

Then, a flashlight blinded you as a Humvee's lights flashed on, a voice demanding, "Don't move!"

"Joel..." You whispered, holding onto his elbow as he readjusted so he was slightly in front of you.

"My daughter's hurt!" Joel called to the military man. "Her ankle!"

"Stop right there!" He barked again.

"Okay," Joel muttered, nerves being shared as you had a bad feeling about this. "Easy now. We're not sick!"

But the solider, instead, radioed in, "I got three civilians by the river, one of 'em injured... Ankle..."

"What about Uncle Tommy and Aunt Katie?" Sarah asked her father.

"We're gonna get you somewhere safe first, with your Mama. Yeah? Then we'll come back for 'em, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry, repeat?" The solider asked into his comms system - earning your attention again. Joel tried to step forward, but the flashlight was right back up into your face, the man snapping, "Hey! No one told you to move!"

"Joel," you worried. "They have shoot-to-kill orders."

"What?" He whispered.

"In the event of extreme violence, similar to this, they have orders to shoot-to-kill," you told him shakily, watching the man. "I know you wanna trust 'em, but they're not our friend right now. Get ready to run..."

"Darlin' - "

"Joel," you hushed, squeezing his elbow.

The solider answered his commanding officer with three, spaced out, "Yes, sir's," before he was slowly picking up his firearm and the light was again in their eyes.

Joel realized how right his estranged wife was in that moment. "We're not sick," he tried to remind. But the man approached, making Sarah's breathing pick up as she held on tighter to Joel's neck - blindly reaching out for you. "Sir," Joel begged, "we are not sick!"

But just like you had said, the orders were shoot-to-kill, and the rapid gunfire sounded in the knight - only barely masked by Sarah's high-pitched scream. You felt a searing burn in your thigh, all three of you toppling over down the short hill you were heading towards; all three rolling away from one another.

When you came to a halt, you seethed in pain, holding your thigh, but hearing a much worse sound. Sarah hyperventilating. You looked up as the solider leered over Joel, army-crawling towards her just as a gunshot sounded. However, when you weren't struck, you kept going, and reached your stepdaughter.

"Baby?" You whispered.

"Mama," she begged. "Mama, Mama," she repeated, barely able to swallow her saliva - much less her fear. "Hurts," she grunted, soon losing the ability to form words.

Tommy had seen the scene and rushed forward to shoot the solider, leaving Katie at his side with your infant daughter still in arm. "I got'cha, hey, hey, hey, I"m here," you whispered, literally whipping your shirt off to press into her stomach. "JOEL!" You cried, looking over your shoulder to spy him on the ground.

He quickly scrambled to Sarah's other side, taking in the situation, and looking at you with absolute devastation. You cried as you held pressure, but you knew, from the entry wounds, Sarah didn't stand a chance. Her aorta artery had been hit and shredded by a bullet, only giving her moments left in this life.

Watching Joel was possibly harder than watching him walk away from you in the birthing room. He was desperate, trying to save his daughter but only being able to hold her as she grunted and sobbed in pain; bleeding out in her father's arms. Joel begged you to help but you couldn't, unable to form words, so, he turned to his brother and screamed at him - and your sister - to help him.

But in that moment he had looked away, Sarah's life had left them. "Joel," you whimpered, making him look down and realize what happened. He sobbed, drawing her in tightly; rocking helplessly on the ground as he couldn't fathom what had just happened.

However, amongst his mourning, there came a sound you never wanted to hear again. Whipping around, you caught sight of your sister starting to twitch and leapt to your feet; limping in hurried motions to snatch your screaming baby from her tightening grip.

"Katie," you begged in a sob, backing up towards Tommy, "oh, God, no... No, please."

But the bite on her forearm had turned a sickly black-and-blue, alerting she had been bit at some point and never voiced it. Before your very eyes, she turned from your dear, sweet older sister into a blood-thirsty monster. Yellowed and dead eyes, snarling and uncontrollable twitching, limbs that turned up in odd angles as the infection took over completely.

When done, you sister gave a shriek before you pleaded, "Tommy!"

He took aim and fired once, putting Katie out of her misery; sending her corpse crumbling to the ground. You panted, tears in your eyes as you couldn't process this night, but then... The unexpected.

"Oh, God, no," you gasped, wrenching your daughter from your chest as she started wriggling uncontrollably. "No, no, no, no, no, no," you sobbed, dropping to your knees and laying her down. Quickly opening her baby blanket, you noted the adult-sized bite on her whole shin, sobbing harshly. "Delilah! No, not my baby, no, no, oh, fuck, no, c'mon, not you, too. Not you, too, Delilah, please, my angel, oh, fuck, no, God damn it!"

"Darlin'," Tommy stuttered from behind you. He looked up in fear, finding his brother's confused gaze and calling, "J-Joel!"

"Delilah, please, fuck, h-how do I fix this!?" You begged. "No, fuck, God damn it! Why can't I help my daughters!?" You snarled at Tommy, sobbing until your chest hurt. "Why!? Why can't I save them!?"

"Doll," he whispered, his older brother slowly letting go of Sarah to lay her down, shut her eyes, and rest her arms over her stomach before turning for you.

"Not her, too, please," you begged. "That's everyone, please, no, please, th-this can't - please, this can't be happening! How do I help, Delilah, baby, please?" You still begged, looking at her bite. "I-I can - I don't know what to do! Wo-Would amputation work? Oh, fuck, no, no, it's - no, please!"

Joel stumbled to his feet, nearing you, but pausing as he could only stare as his infant daughter, whom he had only just seen, twitched and convulsed as the infection proved too great for her little body. It also wasn't lost to his that you had name her after his own mother, long since departed from this world and who would never meet her granddaughter.

"Oh, my God," Joel whispered, slowly nearing you as you sobbed over your daughter; hands hovering all over as you weren't sure where to touch her.

"Please!" You begged nobody, sobbing uselessly as Delilah came to a slow but jarring halt. "Oh, my God," you squeaked, leaning back in shock. "Oh... Oh, my fuckin' God, no... Not our kids, c'mon, no, God, please, fuck - this has to be some fucked-up nightmare. Right?" You looked desperately at Joel. "This... This isn't real, right? This isn't really happening? Please, Joel, you have to fucking tell me this isn't real - this can't be real."

"I'm sorry," Joel wheezed, slowly reaching for you.

"This didn't happen," you shook your head. "O-Our daughters - what the fuck just happened?"

Tommy slowly took the seat on your other side, Joel easily tugging you into his embrace as your sobs wracked your whole being. There were no words to be shared, only the grief of two parents who had just lost everything. Sarah's blood stained both your skin, Delilah laid perfectly still in her baby blanket right in front of you, and Tommy, who felt his gun weighed more than himself after failing to protect those he loved most in this world.

Joel, who lost his daughters but kept his brother.

And you... Who lost your husband a year ago and both your daughters, your mother, father, little brother, and older sister all in a single night. You, who would carry this night of great loss with you, for life. You, who felt confused on how "moving forward" was ever possible. You, who would eventually lose feeling in your head and heart that would result in years of violent turmoil.

You, who would eventually find a path to redemption, but for tonight, you, who grieved loudly and openly in the bloody arms of your estranged husband.

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[logoleptic-since-06]

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

✮ Pairing: Satoru x Fem!Reader

✮ Content: Fem!Reader, Non-Sorcerer AU, College Setting, Mentions of Family and Financial Issues, Mentions of Other JJK Characters, Language, Smut (Fingering, Cunillingus), Slight Angst, Fluff, Dislike to Love, Mentions of Smoking, Slowburn, Not Proofread

Based On This Concept I Made

✮ A/N: I know I said I will not be writing fics for the concepts I made, but I love this trope too much to not have written it.

★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ -> Some songs this was inspired by (I know I listen to white girl music, what about it?) ✮ Also heavily inspired by the book The Deal by Elle Kennedy.

✮ Word Count: 4.6k

MDNI

“This was your last chance, Gojo, I’m gonna have to revoke your captaincy.”

“Please, coach,” Satoru’s usual cocky tone was replaced with desperation, “One more chance, please. My econ test scores came out today, and I’m confident I did well. Just consider this for once.”

Coach Yaga pauses for a second, “Listen, kid, I will consider it for now, but it’s really not on me. College rules say athletes can’t have more than three F’s. And according to that, I should bench you till you get your grades up.”

His eyes widen. “What? No, you can’t bench me, I’m your best player!”

“You know it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck…” he murmurs in frustration. His econ test, that he has already given, is his last straw. If he fucks this one up, he will be benched until he gets his grades up. Basketball tournament season is right around the corner, and being in his senior year of college means his professional recruitments will start this season. Being benched is far from an option he wants to go for.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

He fails.

He fucking fails the test that he was so sure he’d pass.

“And then he benched me,” he groans as he finishes telling the story to his friend group/housemates/teammates. He looks at Suguru, his oldest and closest friend, “Oh, and he made you the captain for the time being, by the way.”

Suguru simply shrugs. “Then get your grades up and re-secure your spot. I won’t even be going pro, you need this.”

"We are all rooting for you, Gojo," Haibara's over-enthusiastic voice speaks. Haibara and Nanami are in their junior year, and Haibara is probably Satoru and Suguru's biggest hype-man, despite playing in the same team.

“I’ve tried, you know I have. I don’t know what else to-”  Satoru stops as an idea strikes his head. He tilts his head towards Nanami, “Hey, Nanami.” “No,” he says simply.

“I didn’t even-”

“Whatever you ask, no.” “Tutor me, you’re like the only smart person I know.” “I’m your junior.”

“We have the same course, we study the same thing in the same class.”

“Fuck, you’re such a manchild,” Shoko’s bored voice speaks as she takes a puff from her cigarette.

“Don’t smoke in our house,” Satoru scolds her, causing her to flip him off.

“Although,” Shoko sits up from laying against the couch, “I might have someone that can help you. My roommate.”

Shoko doesn’t live with the others, but Satoru has never heard of her roommate before. “Your roommate, huh?” he repeats lazily.

Nanami snorts, “Y/N? She’s in my year and I doubt she’ll ever help him.”

Shoko nods, “You can try if you’re desperate enough.” She takes another puff of her cigarette. “Offer her tons of money.”

Satoru thinks for a second, “She can be convinced using money? That’s perfect, I have money.” 

Everyone except Haibara rolls their eyes.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Having finished your last assignment of the day, you relax back against your chair, taking in the hushed ambience of the library. It was a stressful, but productive day. You only relax for a split second before a wave of anxiety gushes over you– you’ve recently lost your job at the local barista due to it being shut down. It was the only place close to the campus you can get a job at, and there is no way you could afford a living on campus without a job.

You decide to get up and head to your dorm room instead of musing upon your issues. As you begin to pack your things into your tote bag, you see a tall, white-haired figure sit across from you at the table with a bright smile on his face that shows off his dimples. 

Satoru Gojo?

The star athlete is Shoko’s childhood best friend. Ever since she became your roommate in your freshman year as a sophomore, you’ve only heard tales of him and Suguru Geto. You’ve seen them around the campus, of course, but you’ve always chosen peace over any interaction with them. People flock around them like a group of fans rushing over to buy tickets for a sold-out concert. Arrogance seeps out of him every time he walks through a door, making every head turn towards him.

“Hi,” he says, looking straight into you. You look behind you, trying to see if he is talking to someone else. “No, I’m talking to you. Y/N, right?”

The sound of your name in his voice sounds weird. How did he know who you were? 

He continues, “I am–”

“I know who you are.” You cut him off for a reason that is unknown to even yourself. He tilts his head in confusion, but you can tell it's not from the knowledge of you knowing his name but rather from the fact that you are wearing an annoyed expression on your face right now. You almost feel bad but it's not like you can help it, you just lost your job and it is not easy for a girl from a middle class family to survive in this environment filled with some of the richest brats in the city, Satoru Gojo included.

“I need your help.” Every word that comes out of his mouth sounds so foreign, you wouldn’t have imagined them in your wildest dreams.

“My help?” Why is he talking to you?

“I need you to tutor me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We are in the same classes together. I need someone to tutor me because I’m failing my classes and if I’m benched and won’t be able to play until I pass them. And if I don’t play this season, I won’t be recruited to go pro, so basically my entire future is in your hands.”

Your disturbed grimace is probably a little too noticeable, because the next words that come out of his mouth are, “Why are you making that face?” He says it with such innocent confusion, you almost give in.

“I don’t even know you,” you finally say, your voice sounds bored.

“But you are the best I can find.”

“Why can’t you hire a professional tutor?”

“Because then my parents will know, and they can’t know.”

“That’s not my problem.” “God, you’re insufferable,” he exasperates, “I’ll pay. A lot.”

That gets your attention. You raise an eyebrow. “How much?”

He sits up and excitedly takes a piece of paper and pen, writes down an amount, and slides the paper towards you.

One look at the paper and your eyes go wide. He wrote an hourly rate and as you do the quick math in your head, you realize this would pay twice the amount you got as a barista.

You clear your throat before speaking. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says firmly.

“And you will cooperate?”

“Of course, I need this, Y/N.” Will you ever get used to your name on his tongue?

“When and where?”

“Five days a week, so all working days. My house? It’s off campus. Give me your number, I’ll send you the location.” “I know where you live, I’ve dropped Shoko off to yours before. And yeah it works.”

“Great! Thanks so much, Y/N; you’re a lifesaver.” In the blink of an eye, he gets up and leaves you stranded at the library table.

Lifesaver… The word echoes through your head. You’ve been called that so many times, it doesn’t even mean anything anymore. You’ve been a lifesaver to your classmates for sharing your homework with them, or giving them answers during a test; you’ve been a lifesaver to your parents when you volunteered to look after your younger siblings, or when took care of dinner; you’ve been a lifesaver to your siblings for helping them study, or for solving any problem they’ve had. 

Even now, as you study in an elite university where the annual tuition is more than what your family earns in a year, you push yourself to work hard and maintain a scholarship, and work two jobs while simultaneously being a full-time student– just so you don’t have rely on someone else for anything, even if they’re your parents.

At least Satoru Gojo is willing to pay you a good amount for being a so-called ‘lifesaver’. Sure, there was a time when you thought money couldn’t buy you happiness, but spending so much time amongst your classmates made you realize it’s quite the opposite. Money brings you respect and recognition, and one day, you will have both of them, you are sure of it. For now, you are at peace with the fact that you are nothing but a phantom made up of invisible smoke, haunting the hallways until someone needs her.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The next day, you find yourself on the doorstep of your new student’s house. You shake off your unwanted anxiety and ring the doorbell. A few moments later, the door opens, revealing a tall figure with long luscious dark hair.

Suguru Geto, certified asshole number two (one is Gojo, of course). He looks down at you with a slight smirk. Seriously, what’s so funny? He motions you to come in.

“Satoru’s upstairs in his bedroom,” he drawls.

“Can you call him?”

He pauses for a second before answering, “Sure thing.” His gaze doesn’t avert from you as he calls out his name. Why is he so ominous? Why is Shoko friends with them?

Gojo comes out of his bedroom and stands by the stairway as he calls you up enthusiastically. You head upstairs and he leads you to his lavish bedroom and closes the door behind the two of you.

“So,” he says as he plops down on his bed, “Where do we start?”

“Let’s go through your assignments first.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

After an hour of tutoring, Satoru is officially done with his first tutoring session. He thinks you are a little odd with your bored yet annoyed expressions, yet he can’t stop but think you’re cute. He clearly gets the vibe that you aren’t the biggest fan of his as whenever he asked you a question about anything other than studies in the past hour, you had simply glared at him. It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever.

It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever. Since every question that he asks you about basketball is also either met with a glare or a “Finish this first, then we’ll talk.”

Your annoyance doesn’t matter to Satoru– if anything, he’s loving the fact that he’s getting on your nerves. It isn’t just you– annoying people has always been his specialty. Despite being the captain and the strongest player, his cheery demeanor is always met with eye rolls or groans of displeasure. 

Sure, girls around him would die to be with him– even for a moment– but if it’s not for sleeping around, he isn’t quite ever wanted. He tells himself he is okay with it, that if they don’t want him, he will turn himself into someone they need. Which is exactly what he did; and now, without him, the team will fall apart.

Once the tutoring session is over, he hits you with a similar question, a cheeky grin plastered on his beautiful face. “So, you ever been to any of our games?”

“No,” you answer simply.

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in sports.”

“None at all?”

“None at all.”

“What ECAs did you have in highschool?” You look up at him. “I had plenty. Why do you wanna know?”

He shrugs. “Curiosity.” You sigh. “I was in the debate club, I worked for the school magazine, hosted multiple events, wrote articles, did internships, signed up for a bunch of award programs.”

Satoru’s eyes go wide. “And your SATs?”

“1560.”

Fuck. Satoru back in highschool was even bigger of a menace than he is now. With an SAT score of 1230 and basketball as the only ECA, it almost seems unfair to him now that both you and him are in the same university– one earned while the other given. Satoru never feels bad for exploiting his family’s money, after all, that’s the only thing they are willing to give him. But seeing someone work this hard– even harder than Nanami– to get to where they are is something Satoru can’t help but be impressed by.

And Satoru isn’t one to be impressed easily.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

A few weeks pass in a breeze and the air now carries the hint of winter, the first fall of snow just around the corner. Students are locked inside their rooms, their heads buried in textbooks trying to prepare for the upcoming exams.

“You better pass this one, Gojo,” you tell him one day as you both are sitting in his room.

“Yes, ma’am.” He makes a salute gesture, causing you to stifle a small smile.

“I don’t wanna be that person, but why don’t you smile much?” His question takes you aback. “I’m not saying you should smile more; do whatever you want. I’m just asking why.”

You shrug simply, the guards you have around you have weakened a little in the past few weeks, but they’re not completely shattered. “I don’t smile without a reason.”

“I crack jokes.”

“You’re not funny.”

He rolls his eyes with a slight smirk tugging up his mouth.

You check the time and your eyes widen. “How long have I been here for?”

He leans back against his chair, “Almost three hours.”

“Shit, I was gonna call Shoko to come pick me up.”

He laughs when he hears that. “Yeah, good luck with that. It’s exam season, she definitely has her phone turned off right now.” Catching the worried expression on your face, he adds, “Do you want me to drop you off?”

You think for a while, trying to figure out other possibilities. Once you fail to do so, you feel your guards cracking a little more as you answer, “Okay.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The drive from his house to your campus dorm is a short one. Yet, something in you makes you want to stir up a conversation.

“So what made you start playing basketball?”

His eyes don’t drift from the road when he answers. “You know my dad, right? He was a professional basketball player. It’s all I’ve known ever since I can remember.”

You won’t admit it out loud, but you are impressed to see him be so passionate about something. “So, you’re close to your dad?”

The chuckle he lets out sounds almost bitter. “No, no, I’m not. I was sent to a boarding school when I was very young. Grew up there. Met Suguru and Shoko. Been home very less. My school’s coach was more of a father figure than my own dad ever was.”

Something pangs in your chest as you let his words sink in. “I’m sorry…”

“Nah, don’t be. It’s cool, you know? My parents were too busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine– it’s just what I’m used to.”

“So you don’t contact them?”

“When I need something, sure.” He pauses for a second. “I know what you think of me, okay?” His voice has a hint of sincerity now. “You think of me as some spoiled brat who loves to spend daddy’s money. And you know what? You’re absolutely right. I am that, shamelessly. But this is only because I realized at a very early age that money was the only way they would be present in my life, so I decided to exploit the shit out of it.”

You don’t have an answer to what he said. His experience of family is unique and unrelatable to you in every way. “I would’ve done the same if I were in your shoes,” you say, not quite believing your words. “You shouldn’t feel bad. You’re doing a great job.”

He looks at you like you hung the moon. “You think so?”

You try to hide your surprise at his reaction. “Yeah, I mean, you’re the captain of the team and the strongest player. You’ve been working so hard to get your grades up this semester, I’ve seen your dedication.” 

He smiles at you– not his usual cheeky smirk, but a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me, Gojo, I’m just stating an observation.”

“Satoru.”

“What?”

“Call me Satoru. It’s what my friends call me.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Are we friends?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were nice to me just now. I doubt you’re nice to a lot of people.”

“Well…” you trail off.

“Well…?” he echoes as he stops his car in front of my dorm building. 

You unbuckle my seatbelt. “Maybe a conversation for another day. Thanks for the ride, Go– Satoru.”

He smiles for a split second before it is wiped away and replaced with a pondering expression. “Wait–”

You stop before you can open the car door. “Yeah?”

“Let me walk you to your room.”

It’s your turn to smile now. “I can walk myself to the dorm, Satoru.”

“It’s late.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“Come on.”

He’s so cute– wait what? Why would your mind go there? That’s Satoru Gojo, a certified college whore.

“Fine, walk me to my dorm room,” you hear yourself say. What is wrong with you?

The two of you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the building gate. The midnight air sways against your face while your cardigan protects the rest of your body. The place is quiet, only crickets heard amongst the trees. The moonlight reflects on the cars parked in the parking lot as you and Satoru walk through it.

“So you were saying?” He breaks the silence.

“What?”

“You said ‘Well…’,” he points out.

You chuckle softly as you look away to the ground. “Nothing really… you said you doubt I’m nice to a lot of people; I was gonna say I don’t talk to a lot of people to begin with.”

He looks at you with his head tilted in confusion. “Why’s that?”

You shrug. “Not a lot of people approach me here, you know? I just… exist, I guess. I mean, I’ve got Shoko. I talk to Nanami and Utahime sometimes. I’m not completely friendless, so that’s nice.”

“Three people in a college with around 20,000 students isn’t really… you know…” He trails off.

You feel the walls around you crumble a little as you speak. “I know, I know. But like I said, no one approaches me, which makes sense. And I’m not one to randomly approach people. Not great with social cues.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Why would you say it makes sense for no one to approach you?”

Why was he asking you so many questions? You can’t remember the last time someone had been interested in getting to know you in this way.

“I’m a scholarship student, I’m not exactly…” You try to think of a word, “relevant in your social hierarchy.”

He is quiet after you say that, probably trying to figure out how to respond to that. So instead, you continue, “It doesn’t matter to me. I always think that if they don’t want me, I’ll make myself needed. I’ll become an important person. My parents may not be rich, but who says I can’t be?”

“So you’re really ambitious,” he says. “I mean, I kind of got that from er– your constant hustle.”

You laugh at his remark, appreciating his humor instead of showing you pity like most would. 

The two of you begin to walk up the stairs to your floor when he asks, “Which floor is it again?”

“Second.”

“Right… I’ve never been here. Shoko’s always coming over to ours to hang out.”

“The three of you must be really close.” He nods. “Yeah, well, five now actually. Nanami and Haibara came along during our sophomore year when we moved in together. They are good athletes, so I thought keeping them close would be good for the team.”

You nod as you reach your dorm room and ring the doorbell. When Shoko doesn’t answer, Satoru says, “She’s probably at the library. Or with Suguru.”

You nod at the possibility as you take out your copy of the keys. The jingling echoes through the empty hallway. You unlock the door to reveal your room filled with darkness. Turning on the lights, you politely invite Satoru in, to which he happily obliges.

He casually plops down on your bed, his legs swinging down.

“Make yourself at home, don’t be shy,” you say sarcastically. His phone rings. When he picks it up, you watch his demeanor change as the person on the other side of the phone speaks.

“No, I told you guys to not attend any parties for a month,” he says in a serious tone that’s very unlike him. “We have practice first thing in the morning every day before the season starts, and I will not stand any mishaps.”

Listening to him scold his teammates and watching him be a good captain stirs something unknown in you. It’s so attractive for one to be this responsible and laidback at the same time. Your eyes roam around his big biceps, stopping at the hand that holds the phone against his ear. He has nice hands, you think, wondering how it might feel inside you. 

Snap out of it.

You will not throw yourself to him only to be tossed aside. You remind yourself why you’re with him– for a job. A deal that benefits the both of you equally. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then why did you tell him things you’ve never admitted to anyone?

What bothers you more is the fact that he was so interested in getting to know you. The way he is always so grounded around you makes you wonder if your previous perception of him being an arrogant asshole was just a misconception.

He hangs up the phone and smiles sheepishly at you, his dimples denting his cheeks. “Sorry,” he says. “It was Haibara.”

“It’s fine,” you say as you subconsciously move forward and sit beside him on your bed.

“Hi,” he says as his blue eyes pierce through you.

“Hi,” you smile back at him, unable to stop yourself from wondering what the hell he was doing in your dorm room of all places he could be right now. “Did you have to be somewhere?”

He scrunches his brows. “No, why?”

“No, I thought Haibara needed you or something.”

“Oh no, that’s been dealt with, don’t worry.”

When did you both sit so close together? You can almost feel his breath against your skin. “You have practice early in the morning.”

“I can function with less sleep.” He is almost too quick to answer.

Your faces are only inches away when his eyes fall to your lips. You close your eyes and feel his lips brush against yours. You kiss him back immediately. 

Once you give him the green light, he deepens the kiss and you let out a low moan. His tongue enters your mouth as he hovers over you on the bed with you lying on your back. He trails his kisses down your jaw while pressing down to your tit with one hand.

His other hand trails to your inner thighs and you feel the heat pool between your legs. You let out a needy gasp, causing him to contact his lips against yours again while his hand unbuttons your jeans and slides inside them. He rubs your clothed pussy and intoxicated bliss spreads over you.

“Ahh, fuck, Satoru,” you whine. He takes that as a sign and slips his fingers inside your panties. Your eyes roll back when you feel two fingers thrust inside you while his thumb works on your clit.

“Nghh, Satoru, fuck, hahh don’t stop,” you don’t even know how loud you’re being, neither do you care right now.

As you say that, he takes his hand out of your pants, which makes you squirm needily. He positions himself such that he is facing between your legs. He reaches for the hem of your jeans as you lift your hips up and he pulls them down, followed by your panties, leaving your bottom bare in front of him. 

He finally brings his face closer to your heat and licks a long stripe along the slit your pussy. You moan out in utter pleasure, spreading your legs further for better access. He begins to nibble at your clit, making you see splashes of euphoria in front your eyes. The pleasure is too all-consuming for you to even think of what’s right or wrong, of what you should or should not be doing. And you couldn’t be bothered to care about any of it right now. 

He adds two fingers deep in your cunt, hitting the g-spot repeatedly as his mouth sucks on your clit. You feel the pressure build up like waves. “So close, Satoru, don’t stop,” you cry out. The waves crash over the shore with a loud moan escaping your lips. 

You lay there panting, recovering from what you would call the best orgasm you’ve had in your life, as he sits up and looks down at you, a proud expression masking that pretty face of his, now all glistening in your juices.

The realization of what you just did hits you the moment the high dies down. You quickly close your legs and sit up, trying to find your panties. 

“What happened?” Satoru asks in a concerned tone. You ignore him and put your underwear on. 

Once you are done, you finally look at him. “Get out,” you state simply.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get out.”

“Did you not like it?”

“Gojo, leave.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

“What’s wrong?” you echo his words. “Everything about this is wrong. I’m your tutor. I work for you.”

“So?”

“So, we shouldn’t be doing this. It’s inappropriate.”

“Are you serious? I thought we–”

“No, I don’t know why I told you so much about myself. Starting tomorrow, everything is strictly professional, or I’m gonna have to quit.”

“Y/N, you can’t just say that, you know that, right?” Satoru sounds determined.

“Yes, I very much can. I’m sorry but I simply won’t let you think you can have me like that just because you’re you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What I mean is that I know you hook up with like hundreds of girls, and I just don’t want to be another name you tick off on your list.”

He looks exasperated. “You think that’s what you are? A name on a list? First of all, I don’t have a fucking list. Secondly, I don’t hook up with hundreds of girls. I haven’t done that since freshman year.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t have the time to hook up with anyone.”

“You haven’t had sex since your freshman year?” Your voice is softer now.

“Not once.”

“Then why did you…” You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand it.

“Because I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, really. It felt right.”

You would be lying if you say it didn’t feel right for you. But you don’t tell him that. Instead you ask, “Since when have you wanted to?”

He reveals his dimples at that question, “Since you asked me if I would cooperate with you if you tutored me.”

This brings a chuckle to your voice. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, something about you bossing me around was… you know.”

You laugh at his words. “You’re a dumbass,” you say as you lean forward and take his lips to yours.

[theemporium]

Cece babyy...can I request a violent purple drink(gonna pause right here to say you're just sooo talented and creative!!!) with Carlos and butterfly when she tells him she's pregnant?🥲🥲🥲 With "You just have this glow about you." And maybe if it fits"Your body feels like home to me." ?? Thank youuuuu

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

42. “You just have this glow about you.” 

series masterlist

.

You had been racking your brain to find the perfect moment to tell him.

You didn’t like keeping secrets from Carlos, quite the opposite if you were honest. Your relationship with Carlos brought a lot of realisations and firsts for you, including such open and honest communication. It was something that was severely lacking in your previous relationships, familial and platonic and romantic. 

But with Carlos, it was different. 

You never went to bed angry with each other, always determined to talk it out and get your feelings out on the table even if you needed a few hours apart. You wore your heart on your sleeve and he returned the gesture, never hiding his emotions from you. And you never kept secrets. Not because it was some rule between you but because you and Carlos genuinely didn’t keep anything from each other.

And now you felt like you were holding the biggest secret from him and you felt like your whole body was going to explode. 

You had taken the test on a whim, frowning when you looked at the calendar and realised you were a few days late. It was nothing too concerning, you were used to your cycle being a bit off with the constant travelling and stress of work. You don’t even know what pushed you to take the test, just a random gut feeling that you ultimately thought would lead to nothing. 

Until you found yourself staring at a positive test, alone in the bathroom with Carlos hundreds of miles away in Maranello for some team meetings. 

You had a few days to work out how to tell him, to figure out some sort of plan and speech to give when you told him you were pregnant. But all of it went flying out the window when he arrived last night, cowardice taking over as you kept your mouth shut and tried to act like everything was completely normal. 

“Did you change something?” 

You blinked, lifting your head from the screen you had been helplessly staring at for the last fifteen minutes to look at Carlos by the stove. “Hm? What? No. I’m the same as I’ve always been.”

“No?” Carlos hummed as he turned to look at you over his shoulder, smiling knowingly. “You just have this glow about you. It suits you.” 

“Glow? Pfft,” you waved him off, feeling your stomach churn a little. “I think the sleep deprivation is getting to you. Maybe you should take a nap after breakfast.” 

“Really? Maybe I’m affected by pregnancy hormones too,” he commented casually.

“That’s not how—” You paused, his words hitting you properly for the first time and your lips parting in surprise. “You know?!” 

Carlos could only laugh as he turned off the stove, rounding the counter so he could settle between your legs and cup your face in his hands. “I saw the test last night. You didn’t hide it very well, amor,” he mused, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. 

“And,” you swallowed, your hands resting on his chest. “How do you feel about it?” 

“I will support you in whatever path you want to choose,” Carlos whispered with a sweet smile. “You are my first priority, always. And I will back you up no matter what.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, your tears welling up because even after so many years, you couldn’t quite grasp how you got so lucky with him.

“Yes, mi mariposa,” he murmured with a grin, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. “It’s you and me before anything else.”

.

[avocado-writing]

Ok this request might be a bit specific but can you write headcanons for halsin,astarion ,dammon karlach and lae'zel (feel free to add any other character if you want) when their petite partner comes back from fighting the god of death and suddenly they're towering over them? (It's temporary but they'll take advantage of the fact that they can carry halsin)

This happened to me in my play through, I kept trying to remove items from my inventory because I was slower and it wasn't until I came across halsin in the camp that I was like " hold on... Halsin why are you so tiny???" Then realised

LMAO i have never had this!!! do you change size during the myrkul battle? that's SO funny if so. gonna change the prompt to be a bit less specific, but will still include a size change! under a cut bc nsfw, minors dni

Astarion

your shadow falls over him. he looks up. and up, and up. "oh... darling. you've... grown."

you apologise and tell him that this is only temporary, but he really doesn't seem to mind it all that much.

sits in your lap and likes to feel very small, curling up like a cat. you can practically hear him purr.

when you go to bed that night, if you're intimate, he'll enjoy straddling you and feeling how wide his legs have to splay around your wide hips.

he falls asleep on top of you, like you're his giant pillow. it makes him feel safe and protected.

he's woken up when you're back to your usual size, slapping at him to move off you - he's crushing you!

Halsin

he feels relieved not to be the tall one for once. it's nice for him to look up at you!

"my, when you're this size, i can appreciate all of you so much more... see magnified what nature has blessed you with..."

if you're comfortable with your size he wildshapes into something small so that he can really enjoy how big you are. little cat halsin nestled in your huge shirt <3

pick him up and carry him to bed. he's thrilled.

when you lay together that night he labours over every lovely inch of you, musing in great detail about how wonderful you are, how he enjoys you feeling so large compared to him...

but the next day he is just as happy to have you back to your normal body. no matter how you look, you are perfect.

Karlach

like Halsin, she is so pleased to be the small one for a while.

keeps wanting to compare the size of her hand to yours. they're so big now! amazing!

can't stop giggling when you reach down to kiss her. likes it when you cup her face.

when you have sex, she's thrilled by how small she feels, how you can take control of her a bit physically.

afterwards she just lays there going. "wow. wow. WOW."

lets you know that she wouldn't mind a repeat performance...

Lae'zel

is confused, but you can see her try and hide a smile.

"an interesting development. is this permanent?" "it shouldn't be." "hmm. then we shall explore what it means later."

before you go to bed, she's pleased to have you slightly stronger in order to help her around the camp. you can hold her weapons and stuff for her while she sharpens them lmao

at night you can tell she's thrilled when she dominates you and you're this size. you're both even more exhausted than usual the next day, and she's just smug.

Dammon

you walk into his forge and start knocking stuff over accidentally

probably bang your head too...

he's so surprised and helps you get your bearings, asking what's happened.

you explain you took this elixir and in order to help him more in the forge... but now you're just causing a ruckus.

he smiles sweetly and brings you down for a kiss, reassuring you there's no problem and it was a sweet idea.

probably gets you to sit to the side and keep him company while he works though, he doesn't want you hurting yourself!

and bonus:

Gale

my man loves to be thrown around a bit. prove me wrong.

eyes light up when you walk in.

does a lot of experiments to test your altered strength. you suggest maybe you'd prefer to explore hypotheticals in the bedroom...

you pick him up and carry him, bridal-style, to the bedroom.

pin him against the wall and suck his cock until he's a whimpering mess...

you need a lot of aftercare for him because he becomes easily overstimulated but keeps asking for more. wears his massive love bites with pride the next day <3

[emmg]

I’m indecisive, so I’m gonna ask for 8 paired with 10 please!

Humble that Devil in a sexy (maybe also disturbing) way 😩🔥

*pulls out a cigarette* As they say, let's go, let's fucking go, I guess.

Let's make this devil suck toes and cum in his pants.

She perches on the edge of the bed, one leg bent at the knee, resting lazily against the frame, while the other stretches out, firm and commanding, pressing down hard, testing his patience. Her toes trace their way up his thigh, each step deliberate, slow, pushing into the softness of his body—soft in a way that makes her smirk beneath her breath. He needs to lay off the wine, she muses, amused, as her foot settles firmly against the center of his chest. 

For a moment, her mind wanders. If anyone were to see this scene—this moment, this power, this intimacy—Raphael would lose his mind. He’d break her into a thousand pieces, drag her across the sharpest edges, if not worse. The thought of him stripping her skin to ribbons makes her lips curl in distaste. But how fortunate, she reflects, that the door is locked, the world outside blind. 

He shifts beneath her, as though attempting to rise, but she presses harder, forcing him back down with a frown that speaks more than words. 

"You know," she begins, her voice distant, her eyes drifting away from him and toward the newest portrait hanging on the wall—its grandiosity too much, too loud, too Raphael. The vibrant, boastful colors, the look of triumph. Raphael Triumphant, she’s named it, with more than a hint of sarcasm. "I prefer how you look," her gaze flickers back between the painting and the devil underfoot, her voice steady, "there."

His hands dart up, desperate, wrapping around her foot like a lifeline, his fingers gripping her ankle tightly. "You wouldn't have the art without the subject, mouse," Raphael teases, too comfortable despite his position, sprawled beneath her. 

She narrows her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching as she presses harder against him, watching the tension ripple through his frame. Her foot moves swiftly, slipping past his hands, higher now—pressing into his throat. She feels the tightening of his muscles, the way his breath comes in shallow, strained gasps, and it sends a thrill through her. All those years of honing her body—climbing, stealing, slipping into places unseen—it’s served her well. She’s flexible, controlled. 

She pushes harder, just enough to feel the wheeze of air as it escapes his lips, then slides her foot higher, tracing the sharp line of his jaw with the ball of her foot. Her movements are slow, measured, teasing, until she plants her toes firmly against his mouth, silencing him. His lips part beneath her, but she doesn’t need him to speak. Raphael always has too many words, and she’s had her fill of them. 

"I think," she says, her voice softer now, a trace of amusement playing at the edge of her lips, "I think," she repeats, a giggle escaping her as she feels the heat of his breath tickling her skin, "that the devil in the painting would do a better job at fucking me." 

She doesn’t give him a chance to respond. Her toes press deeper into his mouth, feeling the wetness of his tongue as he opens to her, a low groan escaping his lips. His mouth is warm, hungry, and he takes her in willingly, sucking at her toes with a devotion that sends a spark of heat through her. His tongue laps eagerly, sliding over her skin, coating her toes in his saliva. The sensation makes her pulse quicken, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she watches him. 

She pulls her foot back just enough to smear the slick wetness across his cheek, then lets him take her back again, granting him access as his mouth works feverishly, worshiping her. His lips suckle, his tongue licks, every movement filled with desperation to please her. 

"You," she murmurs, her voice soft but charged with tension, "are such a tease." The words leave her lips, almost involuntarily, as a moan breaks through when his tongue weaves between her toes. The sensation is electric, pulling at her, but even as her body responds, her mind drifts, her gaze sliding away from the devil beneath her to the one framed on the wall. The painting of Raphael—proud, powerful, and commanding. That devil is the one she craves. That devil is the one she would gladly kneel for, give everything to. 

Her fingers, which had been digging into her thigh, white-knuckled with tension, loosen their grip. Slowly, deliberately, they slip between her legs, seeking the heat that pulses there. The movement of her foot on his chest stills. She no longer presses him down, the weight of her control momentarily lifted. She knows he feels it, the shift in power, the sudden pause in her attention—but for the moment, she doesn't care. Her mind is elsewhere, focused on the familiar touch of her fingers, on the slick, aching need between her thighs. 

She touches herself in the way she has tried—so many times—to teach him. He never gets it quite right, never learns the way her body responds. But she knows, and as her fingers find her swollen clit, she sighs, her hips arching involuntarily, lifting just enough to slide her fingers deeper. The heat floods through her as she sinks into herself, her body responding instinctively. Her eyes stay locked on the painting, on the figure of Raphael—that Raphael, the one who would ruin her in all the ways she craves. 

In her mind, it’s not the devil on the floor with his tongue and teasing mouth that’s touching her. It’s the one on the wall—the devil who would bend her over his desk, papers and contracts strewn carelessly beneath them. She can almost feel the weight of his hands on her hips, the sting of his palm as it cracks against her skin, the bite of his teeth as they sink into her flesh. He would fuck her like no one else—hard, fast, then slow, punishing, and worshipful all at once. He would call her good and a whore in the same breath, his cock buried deep inside her, sliding in and out, taking her apart and putting her back together again with every thrust. She can feel it so clearly, the way his hips would snap into hers, unrelenting, as he fucked her into the hard wood of the desk, the way he’d groan her name as he came inside her, filling her completely. He’d fuck her until she couldn’t stand, until she was begging for him to stop, and even then, he wouldn’t.

He’d keep going. She can feel it, the way he’d harden inside her again, the way he’d thrust deeper, harder, even as her legs gave out beneath her, her body too sensitive, too wrecked to keep up. He’d release inside her again, thick and hot, filling her up, and he’d just keep at it, his hips relentless, his cock pounding her, his teeth in her shoulder, pulling at her hair, taking her. Cum would be dripping down her legs, mixing with her own slick as he fucked it back into her, his fingers dipping down to gather it all up, his hand reaching around to shove those fingers into her mouth, making her suck them clean. 

When he was finally done, when her body was a shaking, trembling mess, when she was too weak to even stand, he wouldn’t let her rest. No, he’d push her to her knees, shove her face into his cock, and tell her to clean him off. And she would—gods, she would—her mouth sliding over his softening cock, licking up every last drop, swallowing it down like she couldn’t get enough, her tongue dragging over his skin, her lips sucking him clean with the kind of reverence she only reserved for him.

And if, by some obscene quirk of his infernal anatomy, he hardened again—his cock stiffening in her mouth just as she started to pull away—he wouldn’t let her go. He’d grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her back onto him mid-release, his cum already spilling, hot and thick, splattering across her cheek and lips. The first spurts would land on her skin, but he wouldn’t stop there. No, he’d shove her face back down onto his cock, forcing her to take it all, to drink him down, the taste coating her tongue as more of him, musky, too hot, overwhelming, flooded her mouth. 

He’d make sure none of it went to waste. His hips would jerk forward, thrusting roughly into her throat, not caring if she gagged, not caring if she struggled, just needing to feel her mouth around him. He wouldn’t stop until every last drop was forced down her throat, his cock pulsing against her tongue, the saltiness of him overwhelming her senses. His grip in her hair would tighten, guiding her head as he fucked her mouth twice, three times more, his cum still leaking, his body writhing with the aftershocks of pleasure. 

Her lips would stretch around him, her throat working desperately to swallow it all, the wet sounds of her choking and gasping for air filling the room. And as he finally finished, his cock softening in her mouth, he’d pull out slowly, dragging her face across his length, the remnants of his release still smeared across her cheeks, her lips wet and glistening and cracked. But she wouldn’t move—wouldn’t pull away. 

In the aftermath, with his cum still trickling down her chin, she would stay there, at his feet, her breath ragged, her mouth sticky and sore. And then, with trembling lips, she’d whisper his name—Raphael, Raphael—her voice breathless, almost broken. Her tongue would dart out, tasting the last of him on her lips, and she’d lean forward, pressing soft kisses to his thighs, her lips brushing against his skin like a prayer.

Her eyes would be wide, looking up at him with worship—like a sinner begging for forgiveness, like a worshiper at the altar of their god. She’d kiss her way up his legs, her lips dragging across his skin, her breath hot as she mouthed at his fingers, his hands. Her face, smeared with his release, would be a mess of devotion and lust, her eyes filled with adoration as she kissed him—his thighs, his hands, his cock, whatever she could reach. 

No. That devil wouldn’t be content with kissing her foot. 

"Making me come to that painting," she finally breathes out, her voice thick with pleasure, her thighs clenching as the orgasm rolls through her, her body tightening around her own fingers. Her chest rises and falls in shallow gasps, riding the wave of sensation as her cunt clenches around her fingers, milking the last of the pleasure from her own touch. 

Finally, she turns her gaze to the real Raphael—the one on the floor, not the grand, painted devil on the wall. He’s watching her, his chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths, curiosity and lust darkening his eyes. As he begins to push himself up, she doesn’t hesitate. Her foot snaps out, slamming into his chest, way harder than she meant to, but the jolt of power, the raw force, makes her pulse quicken. He crashes to the floor, his head cracking against the hard surface with a sickening thud, the horns on his skull making a sharp cracking sound as they connect. 

The impact rips a guttural hiss from his throat, but there’s a moan tangled in it too, and when her eyes flick down, she sees the obscene bulge straining against his trousers, swollen, throbbing. A fresh wave of heat floods her body at the sight of him, pathetic and needy, sprawled out beneath her. The room reeks of him—his sweat, sharp and musky, clinging to the air, the unmistakable scent of his arousal thickening around her. 

Indulgent, generous even, she lets her foot slide down his chest, grazing his skin just enough to keep him desperate. Her heel drags across his abdomen, not quite touching where he needs it most, her toes brushing over his thighs, down to his knees, making his muscles tense and twitch with every inch she covers. She pauses there, watching him squirm, watching his hips jerk up as if trying to find her foot, to make her press where it aches. 

And then, just when he looks ready to beg, she presses her toes against his cock—hard. The response is immediate. His body jerks, and the noise that comes out of him is pathetic—a whimpering, choked moan as his hips buck up against her foot, seeking more. He’s hard, so hard, twitching under the pressure of her foot, and for a moment, she just lets him suffer, lets him grind helplessly against her. 

His hand flies up, desperate to press her harder against himself, but she kicks it away without even glancing down, a smirk curling her lips. His eyes are wide, pleading, sweat slicking his skin, his hair sticking to his forehead. 

"Raphael, Raphael," she coos, sweetly, softly, "Beautiful Raphael." She can see the shame flicker across his features, as beautiful in his pitifulness as he is in his narcissism, his body trembling with need. He’s disgusting, he's pathetic, she loves it, loves his face, loves all the wretched parts of him that need to be bled and flayed and devoured. 

"Do something," he growls through gritted teeth, his breath ragged and shallow, "before I drag you down here and fuck that mouth of yours until you’re finally silent." His voice is rough, dripping with lust and frustration even as he threatens her. He shudders beneath her foot, his hips jerking up again, desperate for more pressure, more friction. 

“Well, maybe if you beg, I’ll consider it,” she whispers, absentminded, knowing he won’t, but the mental image almost enough to make up for it.

She tilts her head, considering his words. With a sigh, she obliges—because she knows he’s not bluffing. If she pushes him too far, he will pin her down and take what he wants, but it’ll be over too quickly, nothing more than a few frenzied, sloppy thrusts and a quick release. One-sided pleasure. He’s still stronger than her, and when he finally loses patience, it will all come crashing down in a jumble of power and frustration. 

It’ll be messy, desperate; it’s never smooth with him when he’s in this state. She's been through the motions before, knows exactly how it will play out—his hands clawing at his ridiculous belt, swearing under his breath as he fumbles with the too-many buttons on his expensive trousers. His impatience would turn into frustration, and when he finally gets his cock free, it won’t be slow or sensual. No, he’ll shove it into her mouth with no hesitation, no grace—just raw, animalistic need. 

It would be awkward, the angle all wrong, her throat tightening in protest as he slams into it again and again, each thrust brutal yet faltering. His hands would grip her hair, yanking her forward as he drives his cock deep into her throat without giving her a chance to adjust. Her gag reflex would kick in almost instantly, her throat constricting around him, saliva rushing up from the depths of her throat, not from pleasure but from the violent force of him. Her lips would stretch painfully around his girth as he fucks her mouth with reckless abandon, hitting the back of her throat every time, making her choke and sputter. 

There wouldn’t be any rhythm, no pace she could control. He wouldn’t let her. He’d just use her, thrusting into her throat with no care for the mess he’s making. Spit would pool around her mouth, dripping down her chin in long, sticky strands, soaking into her skin as she gasped for air. She wouldn’t get a moment to breathe—he never lets her. He’d thrust harder, faster, until her throat felt raw, her stomach heaving with the force of it. 

His hips would start to stutter, erratic, as he got close, and she’d know it was almost over. He always finishes too quickly. And when he finally came, it would be a messy, graceless release, his cum spilling into her mouth in thick, salty spurts. She wouldn’t even have a chance to swallow before her body would revolt, gagging as she pulled away, coughing and retching, all of it spilling from her lips. Some of it would splatter on his expensive shoes, staining the leather, a small satisfaction. 

Oh, well. It's good for him then that she's feeling benevolent. Good for her that he won't reach that point.

She presses her foot harder against his cock, feeling the heat of him through his trousers, the way he twitches under the pressure. His hips meet her in a rhythm now, thrusting up into her, chasing the pleasure. Sweat beads on his brow, mixing with the sheen already glistening on his chest, the salty scent of it filling her nostrils. His breath comes in gasps, each one louder, more desperate than the last. His mouth hangs open, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, a glistening trail of saliva pooling at the corner of his mouth. 

She rubs her foot against him, slowly, torturously, grinding her heel into his cock as she watches the tension build in his body, his skin flushed, his muscles taut. His trousers are soaked with sweat, the heat of his arousal unmistakable now, seeping through the fabric. Every thrust of his hips is a silent plea for more, for her to push harder, to finally give him what he’s begging for. 

And then, it happens. His lips start to move, muttering something low and guttural, in the dark, ugly language of the Hells, and she knows he’s close. His hips jerk erratically, and she feels the sudden wet heat of his release, the way it spurts against her foot, soaking through his trousers. The dark stain blooms across the fabric, spreading quickly as he groans, his body convulsing with the force of it, and still, she doesn’t stop. 

She grinds her foot harder into the wetness, rubbing his humiliation into him, smearing his cum across his crotch, making sure it’s unmistakable, undeniable. The musky, bitter scent of his release mixes with the sharp tang of his sweat, thick and heavy in the air, clinging to her skin. She presses harder still, pushing his cum deeper into the fabric, spreading it, marking him with his own filth. 

"Little mouse," he breathes, his voice weak, barely more than a whisper. His tail thunks against the floor, twitching reflexively—something she’s come to recognize as instinctual, something he doesn’t even notice he’s doing.

"Hm," she hums, her eyes floating away from him, back to the painting on the wall. Her foot slides back up his body, trailing over the sticky wetness on his trousers, up his chest, until she reaches his chin. With a sharp press of her toes, she tilts his head back, forcing his mouth shut, sealing his pathetic groans behind his lips. 

[sweet-honey-tears]

If They Where Dads

Fluff head cannons! 🤍

Gender neutral reader. Kinda sounds like reader gave births but I kinda figured it’s either adoption or a quirk that can combine dna. Idk.

Feel free to leave request for other characters!

Daycare pick up head cannon

Aged up of course!!

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

“She's beautiful”

“Daddy’s gonna buy you the fucking world.”

Big red eyes stared back as tiny hands gripped scared calloused fingers.

He would teach his kids sign language incase he ever does lose his hearing.

Is the type of dad that just carries the baby because fuck the stroller and shit- he’s a walking one that can also rock the little monster to sleep.

Will call the baby ‘Mini SpitFire’ and ‘Adorable Monster’(better than dumbass)

Will sign his daughter(and future kid- aka his baby boy) up for karate

And if his kid doesn’t have a quirk, he’s going to sign them up for a bunch of self-defense classes. He wants to protect them from people like him growing up.

Your phone Lock Screen is a picture of your toddler mid-sprint to the door as Katsuki is crouched with arms wide open. He had just gotten off a patrol, his hair mused and masked pushed up. His gauntlets pushed to the side. His face was dirty and stained. But his smile was huge and little tears are in his eyes from seeing his little mini spitfire come running to him.

“Don’t post that”

“But Kat-“

“No”

Can't let the public know king explosion murder is a big old softy. No, that is only for his family.

🦈Eijiro Kirishima🦈

Dude freaked out when he found out it’s gonna be twins- girls a matter of fact’ As babies, he’d put them in little shark onesies and then put on his own.

Your Lock Screen is a picture of your two beautiful twin girls in these little onesies and your Home Screen is Pro Hero Red Riot in a large Great White Shark onesie holding his two lovely(in shark onesies) twin girls in each of his arms. A big, proud, sharp smile stretched on his face.

He is the kind of dad to strap one of the girls to his chest, the other girl you have strapped to yours. There is totally a picture on the fridge of you two like that.

Would call his girls:

“Little riot, stop pulling your sister's hair!”

“Sharky, you shouldn’t be up there!”

The girls will call you Mama Papa, or Sharky Shark. (So- MommaShark! SharkyShary or ShaSha!) They call Kiri Daddy Shark.

The girls have shark plushies, cat ones, and so many plushies! One of the girls’ favorites, when they were toddlers, was a Red Riot plush. They’d hold it so damn tight whenever Kiri had to leave on a long mission.

They call the Bakuquad the following when they are very young:

Uncle Bak-uh-dough

Unky Serooooo

Aunty Mina

Unk Donkey or Denks (purely because Denki will make a goofy face when they say it)

Also, I think Testu would still pop by and the girl would call him Test.

⚡️Denki⚡️

Would freak the fuck out when he finds out but also be so excited

Will call the baby “Sparky!” And bakugou will say it sounds like you're calling a dog-

⚡️“ but you use to call me stuff like that-“

“Yeah I know”

⚡️“ but you said it sounds like a dog-“

“Yup”

Bakuogou felt a light hit to the back of his head. You walk past him while holding your/Denki’s baby. He just laughs. What? You’d think he’d do or say something to a woman holding a baby. Fuck no.

There’s a picture on your phone of Denki holding your baby, who is fast asleep, with rubber gloves on his hands. He’s being incredibly careful now. Wearing rubber gloves to ensure he never accidentally sparks the baby. He keeps getting excited every time he sees you two. That’s your Home Screen FWI.

The baby does have a Pikachu onesie. And a hat with the ear sticking up. As well as a Pokeball pillow(Mina got them for Christmas)

I feel like Shinso stops over a lot too. Like these guys are really good friends in the future.

“Uncle Shin!”

“Hey there Spark” he would totally gift the baby little cat stuffed animals and cat hairpins.

▪️🔸Sero🔸▪️

Sero would be surprised but stay chill.

Sero would call his baby girl:

“Hermosa (beautiful) you gotta wake up. We have to get ready for school”

Would teach his daughter Spanish(assuming you also know it too)

The girl's room is decorated with plants and cute food tapestries. There would definitely be one of those egg nest swings in the room(the ones above ground and hanging from the wall). He would hold the baby and rock them to sleep in it.

I feel like the baby would have a really cute, soft, cartoon ‘spider’ plush. But it’s not even really a spider- but a blob with a ‘:3’ face and eight legs. Totally has cat ears. Sero found it one day and was like ‘yup, that’s coming home’.

You couldn’t stop laughing when you saw it, you frickin love it.

Sero brings home the cutest but most random stuffed animals and toys. Ones that are just funny and adorable but make no fucking sense.

At an older age, Sero would definitely play with his daughter via his quirk. Your lock Screen is a picture of your daughter hanging upside down, her ‘spider’ plush hanging in her hand.

[unintentionaloracle]

The Honorary In-Law: Part Two [Fic]

Lol I was gonna wait a week but I got impatient.

(This is Part Two of a fic found here.)

Summary: Jey and Rhea finally have the anticipated (and somewhat dreaded?) meeting with Sami and Kevin. Can Rhea charm "the in-law?" Will Jey and Rhea work out their hang-ups and issues? And what's on Kevin's mind?

Part Two: Love And Luck

“Relax, you look great. Besides, we wanted to keep this casual, right?” Jey said, his arm reassuringly around Rhea's waist as she inspected her (somewhat toned down) makeup and hair in the side mirror of someone's car. She smoothed her shoulderless black sweater and dark jeans, adjusted her choker and stack of necklaces, and nodded. 

They'd entered the restaurant (some local diner, nothing too fancy). Sami and Kevin were inside, chatting and laughing with each other as Kevin threw his arm around his soulmate. Despite their famously messy relationship, at this moment they looked like flawless couple goals. What any wrestling couple would want to look like after twenty years. Rhea took a deep breath. Jey gave her a kiss on the head. She smiled.

 No turning back now.

 They approached the booth, Sami and Jey waving to each other. “Hey, Uce! Kevin!” He said, doing his secret handshake with Sami and giving a simple handshake to Kevin. “Y'all know Rhea...” he said, grinning as he turned to Rhea. “Rhea, you know Sami and Kevin...”

 “...Jey, we've met before.” Kevin stated, eyebrow raised. “A couple times.”

 “Right, but that was Judgement Day Rhea. This is...Liberated Rhea, ya know?” Jey said. He turned to her, grinning and pulling her a little closer. “Rhea with taste,” he teased as he kissed her cheek. She playfully smacked his chest at the joke, giggling nonetheless as she cupped his face.

 Kevin cleared his throat, snapping the couple back to Earth.

 Rhea turned her attention back to the other couple and waved, smiling awkwardly. “Sorry. Yeah. It's nice to see you guys when I'm not punching your faces...” She joked.

 Sami looked at her, wide eyed and mouth pressed closed. Jey also looked concerned. Kevin, however, was a hard read. (Did he chuckle?) There was an awkward silence.

 Oh, great start... Rhea thought.

 Sami seemed to pick up on her feelings. “Well, it's...uh...nice to meet you properly, Rhea. How about we order some food?” He said, shaking her hand. He had a warm smile that was weirdly soothing to see.

 (Kevin, however, continued to sit there quietly. Is this a test. Is he judging me, or–?)

 “Yeah. Thanks,” she said simply.

 Jey let Rhea sit first. She hurried into the booth.

---

 Despite the rough start, things smoothed out fairly quickly, thanks to Sami and Jey’s natural charisma and charms. The group was laughing as the two regaled their lovers with a story from backstage.

 “So Howdy and his friends finally ran into us at catering. Jey's freaking out...”

 “I nearly cried...” Jey confirmed.

 “He did. He nearly cried! Then Dexter reached out to both of us...”

 Kevin and Rhea leaned in.

 “And patted us both on the head. He gave us a thumbs up, too!” Sami said, laughing. “Then Howdy chuckled, saying ‘you’re both fine, gentlemen,’ grabbed some of the donuts, and they all left at once.”

 “So, that's why I'm not so terrified of The Wyatt Sicks, now...” Jey concluded.

 “How did I not know that happened?” Rhea asked.

 “Think it happened during one of your fights with Liv...” Jey mused.

 “Well, I'm just glad I don't have to fight them for now...” Kevin said, arm draped on the back of the booth and around Sami.

 “I dunno, I think both of us could take ‘em, Kevin...” Rhea joked, resting her chin on her hand. “Show ‘em not to mess with our men?”

 Kevin shrugged in response. 

 Oh, come on! Work with me here!

 Jey put his arm around her. 

---

 As the group continued to eat their meals, Rhea enjoyed the mostly warm company. Sami really was a sweet guy. And Kevin, at the very least, was nice to Sami, so there had to be some good in him. (At least something Sami could see.) They really were like an old married couple, in the affection and the bickering department. She started to smile imagining her and Jey being like that in twenty years (though maybe with less bickering and betrayal)...

 ...In twenty years? She thought. Did she want to be with him that long? Could she? Well...

 As if on cue, Sami looked at her. “What's up, Rhea?”

 “Oh. Nothing,” Rhea said. “Just kinda wandered into my own little world. I'm really having a good time, Sami,” she said.

 “I see. Well, good,” Sami said. “And hey, if you need anything and Jey and Damian aren't around, I've got your back. Any girlfriend of Jey’s is family to me...” He added, smiling sweetly.

 Rhea swore to herself. She shifted uncomfortably.

 “Uh, we still haven't really put a label on us, yet...” Jey said, an awkward (almost disappointed?) tone to his voice.

 You'll mess up with him, too... Dom and Liv’s voices piped up in her mind.

 “Ah, sorry. I forgot...” Sami said, hands up. “I mean, with the chemistry between you two–”

 Rhea stood up. “I have to go to the restroom. Be right back...” She walked off quickly.

 She needed a minute.

---

 Kevin watched as Jey sighed when a minute went by.

 “Jey, I'm sorry, I seriously did forget—” Sami said.

 “No, no it's my bad, Uce. I keep putting that talk off. I’ll t–”

 Kevin stood up. “Let me talk to her.”

 The co-former Bloodline members tilted their heads at him. “You’re gonna handle it?” They asked in unison.

 Kevin nodded. “Trust me, I got this,” he said, getting up before either his boyfriend or “friend-in-law” could stop him. He grabbed a sucker from the dish by the register on his way to the back. He sucked it then winced.

  Bleh. Guess the mystery flavor is garbage. He thought, immediately tossing it in the trash.

  He went over to the lone bathroom in the diner and knocked on the door. “Hey, Rhea? Need to talk?”

 Rhea opened the door, mascara starting to inch down her cheeks. Her eyes were red. “You want to talk? Why?”

 Kevin motioned to her. “Because I've been here, minus the mascara...”

 Rhea checked her face. She swore. “I guess no one else is in the diner, so...come on in, I guess?” she motioned him inside the cramped bathroom. She dug out a travel makeup bag from her purse. “Mind if I–?”

 “Go ahead, “ Kevin said, leaning against the wall to give her room.

 Rhea took a tissue and started to clean up the mascara tears. She got out some foundation to blend away the rest, looking in the mirror. “So you say you've been here?”

 “Dating a guy who I worry might be too good for me and being terrified to lose or be vulnerable with him? Yeah.”

 Rhea froze as she got her mascara out. She took a deep breath. “You can tell?”

 Kevin nodded.

 Rhea shook her head. She put the makeup away and turned to Kevin. “It's just...I lost a lot. I lost most of the people I called family because I “made things all about me”, aside from Priest. My ex-boyfriend dumped me for my ex-girlfriend in front of everyone because I “didn't treat him like a man”. Nobody in the women's locker room likes me. And it's just...Jey's been so good to me through all of this. And now Sami's being good to me. I don't want to screw myself out of a family a second time, too. Let alone a partner...”

 “...Did Dom or the other idiots ever tell you these things before they turned on you?” Kevin asked.

 “Not that I remember...” Rhea said.

 “Then screw ‘em. You're not a mind reader,” Kevin said, simply. He folded his arms. “And like I said, I get it. I get being betrayed by the people you care about the most. I get everyone hating you even when you've been trying really hard to be good and haven't a damn “bad” thing in years–”

 Rhea cleared her throat.

 Kevin coughed. “Anyway...And I get not wanting to lose one of the few people you know actually loves you... Every time me and Sami hit a snag–I go “off the rails”, Sami loses his mind, whatever–I always worry about one thing: is this gonna be the last straw for him? Is he going to wise up and never take me back, ever again? Hell, I worried about it after Bad Blood, but...”

 “But?” Rhea said, finishing her makeup and turning to Kevin.

 “But somehow, it never is. Even if we fight, we take each other back, eventually. And this time he actually chose me. Despite everything.” Kevin chuckled a bit, smirking as he briefly looked down. “I think he might actually be serious about the whole “loving me” thing. And I never wanna let that go.” The Prizefighter turned his attention back to Rhea and pointed. “Jey's good to you, right?”

 Rhea was taken aback. “Of course. He's the sweetest. And he's been so patient with me.”

 “Good. And you're attracted to him?”

 Rhea actually blushed a bit before smirking and leaning against the sink. “Ohhhh, yeah. He's been taking good care of me...” She said with a wink.

 “Mine too. It's another reason why we can't quit each other,” Kevin winked back. “So...you like Jey?”

 Rhea scoffed. “Like him? Of course I like him! He's my bloody boyfriend! I l–” she caught what she'd said and froze, eyes wide.

 Kevin smirked. “Well, there you go...”

 Rhea started to smile. “I can say it. Jey Uso is my boyfriend. Main Event Jey Uso my boyfriend!”

 “Congrats. Now you might want to tell him that,” Kevin said.

 “...Right.” She replied. “Thanks, Kevin. You really aren't that bad a guy...”

 “THANK YOU! Tell everyone else that...”

 “And hey, if you need anything, let me know. I owe you one...and I'm sorry about all the stuff I did to you and Sami when I was in The Judgement Day,” Rhea added. “You didn't deserve it, and I'm sorry it led to you getting separated.”

 Kevin was shocked at what seemed to be a genuine apology from Rhea. He shook it off. “It's in the past. At least you got a boyfriend out of it. A boyfriend who's probably wondering if you slipped out the window...”

 Rhea packed her stuff up. “Right! Same for yours,” she said, before giving him a swift thank you hug and peck on the cheek. “Seriously, I can't thank you enough. And if I can say something?”

 “Shoot.”

 “Sami’s not a mind reader, either. Maybe you should let him know how you feel, too,” she smiled and went to the door. “Lock him down like I'm about to lock down mine.” She said, looking back with a wink before exiting.

 Kevin chuckled and went to wipe the soft lipstick smudge from his face. “Oh, you have no idea...”

---

 Rhea made a beeline for the table as Kevin sauntered over behind her. She immediately sat with Jey. “Jey, can I take a picture real quick?” She asked, getting out her phone.

 Jey was visibly confused. “Uh, sure, baby. But shouldn't we talk about–?”

 “We will. Just give me a minute. I promise it'll make sense...” She said. Rhea held the phone up in selfie mode, leaning against Jey. She kissed his cheek before snapping the pic, catching Jey mid-surprised delight. She immediately went to one of her social media accounts and typed something. She handed her phone to Jey. “Jey, I need you to read over this caption and tell me if you're cool with it...”

 Jey took the phone from her. Rhea watched him smile as he read the caption she tagged him in:

 “At brunch with the best man in the world and his friends. So proud to call him my boyfriend. Thank you for everything these past few weeks, your kindness and your patience. What more could a girl ask for? #boyfriendreveal”

 Jey handed the phone back. “Of course it's okay! You really mean it, though?”

 Rhea nodded, some tears starting to form in her eyes, again (albeit happier ones). “Yeah. Sorry it took me so long. I just...I was terrified of losing you...And of screwing up another relationship...”

 Jey cupped her cheek. “Baby, it's okay. You aren't gonna lose me. I'm nothing like your last man. Or Liv.” he said, leaning in towards her.

 “Good,” Rhea said, closing her eyes as he kissed her. She held his face as his arms wrapped around her. They pressed foreheads against each other after. Rhea caught Sami and Kevin out of the corner of her eye, having briefly forgotten them. Sami reached over and squeezed Kevin's hand. She turned her attention to them. “Thank you, guys. Guess we needed this get together more than we thought.”

 Sami chuckled. “Anytime...”

 Kevin motioned for the waitress. “Can we get a check, please?”

---

 After breakfast, it was decided that Jey wouldn't be staying with Sami this time and would stick with his newly-minted girlfriend. (Damian was contacted and told he wouldn't need to crash with Rhea for a while. He happily agreed.)

 That was perfectly fine for Sami and Kevin, especially considering Kevin surprised Sami with an impromptu trip after. They were going to California, just the two of them. The thought being that they could get away from their troubles for a while (Kevin's deteriorated friendships, Sami's career frustrations)...

 When the couple went back to their hotel room, before they could properly enter, Sami immediately barraged Kevin with kisses. He pushed him into the room and towards the bed as he did so, not letting up except to close the door and put up a “Do Not Disturb” sign. Kevin looked up at him as he straddled him, awestruck and flushed. What's gotten into him? He thought.

 “Okay, what did I do and how can I keep doing it?” Kevin asked.

 “You didn't tag along just to be a bodyguard, did you?” Sami said with a smile.

 “...I just kinda felt for her, you know? Dating a nice guy is rough. And I guess I wanted to help her not make the same mistakes with Jey that I have with you, if I could?” Kevin said, putting his hands on Sami's waist. “Plus, if it went well, I knew it would make you happy...and Jey...”

 “So much nice stuff about Jey... Kevin Owens, has he grown on you?” Sami teased.

 “Maybe. Shut up. He can't know,” Kevin said, pouting a bit.

 Sami laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he said, kissing said pout. “And thank you. For helping today. And proving me right...” He said, pressing his forehead to Kevin's.

 “How?”

 “That you're still a good man, despite everything. Rough around the edges, but deep down still good,” he said, cupping his face. “And I love you.”

 Kevin’s heart skipped a beat. He needed to hear that more than he thought. “I love you, too, Sami. Thanks for having my back through everything. This crap’s been rough for you, hasn't it?”

 “It really has. I even kinda miss the group chat. Seth's “daily drip drop” really grew on me...” 

 “Well, I just want you to know...if there's anything you need to do, you've got me in your corner, too. No matter what it is. Even if I think it's dumb or horrible. It's the least I can do for you after all you've done for me. Because I love you, Sami Zayn. I never want to lose you. Never again.”

 “...Thank you, Kev...” Sami said, starry-eyed. He tucked his hair behind his ear. “And if I didn't know better, I'd almost think you were proposing or something...”

 Kevin chuckled. “In a cheap hotel in the middle of nowhere? Nah, you deserve better, Sami...”

 As they kissed once more, Kevin had one more thought before Sami pressed closer against him and rendered any complicated thoughts impossible:

 That can wait for California...

---

 In a different hotel, some time later, Rhea gently ran her fingertips up and down Jey's spine as he laid draped over her, his face nuzzled in her neck. “Jey?”

 Jey sat up a little. “Yeah, baby?”

 She grinned at him. “Damn.”

Jey grinned back. They both laughed. “Yeah, that about sums today up, doesn't it?” He kept looking at her.

 “What?”

 “Rhea Ripley is my giiiiiirlfriiiiiiiend~” he said, singsong.

 Rhea chuckled. “And Jey Uso’s my boyfriiiiiiend~” she said, matching his tone.

 He pressed his forehead to hers, holding her close. “Seriously, you have no idea how happy you made me. Of all the good things that happened to me after I left the family, you're probably the best...”

 Rhea could feel her heart melting. She glanced at the Intercontinental Title sitting on Jey's luggage. “Hear that? I'm his favorite.” She joked before turning her attention back to Jey. “And you make me feel like all the tears I wasted on Dom and The Judgement Day were almost worth it, because it led to me and you...”

 Jey wiped the tears away with his thumbs before kissing her. It felt good, finally being really vulnerable with Jey. Comfortable, even. She could get used to it.

 “So, what do wanna do now, baby?”

 Rhea grinned. “Well, I did miss you beating the crap out of Dom yesterday...I'd love to watch it with you...”

 “Really? You missed my match?”

 “I was too busy trying to rip Raquel's arm off to beat Liv with it,” she said nonchalantly.

 “...I know I shouldn't find that hot, but...”

 Rhea chuckled. “Then after that...we can keep celebrating...” She added with a wink.

 Jey bit his knuckle. He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Wrestling and chill. I love it. We can do that.”

 Rhea smiled, cuddling up to Jey as he cued up the match. She thought about what she thought in the diner: if she wanted to still be with Jey in twenty years.

 Yeah, she thought. Yeah, I think I do.

[softlymaximoff]

Canvas for your Art

18+ ONLY MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

— A/N: HAPPY BDAY RIABEAR @belovaskitkat

— Summary: when your girlfriend surprises you with new art supplies for your birthday, you waste no time in testing them out on your favourite canvas.

— Characters: Soft!dom goofy Kate, Sub!Fem!reader

— Warnings: fluff, D/s dynamics (K, r - respectively), light overstim, pet names, dumbification, light pet play, orgasm denial, lmk if i've forgotten anything else!

— Word Count: 2.85k

"Kaaaaate" you groaned as your girlfriend opened the blinds, allowing the golden flecks of light to seep through the room. It was your birthday today and the two of you had been so busy with missions and briefings that no one really had time to have a wind down and celebrate the 'Tony Way' of a birthday.

"Wakeup sleepy girl, it's your birthday" she sing-songed softly as she padded across the hardwood floor with ease. A disgruntled groan slipped your lips and you heard the archer chuckle. Mornings were not it, you made that very clear.

"Come on baby, I've got plans!" she sat by your starfished state and ran her fingers through your slightly curly hair. She rolled her eyes at the way your body melted further into the mattress before rolling you over and pressing feather like kisses along your forehead.

Quiet giggles escaped your lips at the sudden yet dotting action and you finally opened your eyes. "Morning angel" Kate whispered and kissed your lips gently. "Hi" you whispered out as you kissed her back and just stared at her.

"You look nice" you commented on her minimal makeup look for the day and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Nothing compared to you pretty girl" she commented right back and you blushed. "8:30 and I've already made your cheeks red" the avenger chuckled and got up from her spot, throwing a few clothing items your way.

You blushed even harder at the double meaning and huffed at the inuendo, "You're so silly Bishop" you pouted as you sat up, stretching your arms above your head. You heard a quiet 'biiiiiig stretch' next to you and it broke you out of your stretch, laughter taking over your body.

"Now you're even sillier what the heck baby!" you managed to wheeze out and slapped her arm lightly. "You stretched like Lucky! It was only appropriate! And watch those hands love" she defended and warned at the same time while the two of you got up started your morning routine. All Kate did was follow you around, occasionally dressing you up here and there and helping with your hair, but were you about to complain? Hell no.

"So what does my birthday girl want to do today? We can do presents tonight and do something this morning or during the day, or we can do them this morning and go out somewhere tonight" she played with your hands as her back was against your chest while you were sitting on the counter waiting for breakfast to cook.

"How about we do something this morning and presents tonight?" you mused and leant down, kissing the top of her head. She swayed gently between your legs and turned to look at you, "Grab your coat, were gonna go to the lake" she murmured after just looking at you with nothing but adoration in her eyes.

And so you did just that, you grabbed your coats, your shoes and Lucky. A couple of thorough room checks for safety and the two of you were on your way to the lake where you first met each other. The story was cute for you, completely ego bruising for your girlfriend.

"Lena look at them! They're so cute! OH please can we get one for the compound!" the archer was swooning over a cuddle puddle of baby ducklings and their mother roaming around the lake edge. "Kate Bishop for goodness sake! Leave the poor water chickens alone! They are paobably so sick and tired of everyone trying to steal them all day! My God Americans really are so weird, Mama Melina had pigs maybe we can play with those, theyre just...four legged muddy chickens?" the widow rolled her eyes at the commotion and fuss over these fluff balls and Kate gasped in horror.

"You take that back! I'm not weird! Pigs are ugly! At least these babies are so fluffy and cute and really just like you! Theyre short and fiesty and loud as hell but so so so cute and squishy!" Kate teased and squished the blondes cheeks. "Get off me you cytka" Yelena shrieked and swatted her hands away, groaning at the instant sensation on the apples of her cheeks.

"Your new nickname isn't Lena or Blondie anymore, its Ducky" Kate howled in laughter at the deadpan glare Yelena sent. "Count your days Katniss" she growled and lunged at her best friend, sending them both on the floor. Thw two got into a playfull tussle until something wet licked Kate's face. "Did you just LICK me?! Yelena! That was uncalled for you ass! Ew!" Kate spluttered dramatically and wiped her cheek like a maniac.

The way Yelena went to roll her eyes but remained quiet and adverted her eyes away from Kate, smirking at something behind her made the purple avenger spin around. "What?! That's so not fair!" the duo were staring at a brunette crouching at the lake's edge with a few stray ducklings at her feet. "They never come up to anyone!" Kate whispered in awe and Yelena saw something in her eyes.

She was a spy for gods sake, she knew how to read people. Kate wasnt looking at the lowkey insult from the animals, but towards you. The Duckling whisperer. She was mesmerized. Anyone could see it. "Go say hi you idiot" Yelena pushed the lovestruck archer a little in the direction and Kate froze up.

"I can't just go over there and say hi! Are you crazy?!" she panicked but the widow smirked instead. "Kate Bishop, do you not know how conversations work? And plus, I'm tired of hearing you complain about how 'Wanda said she's too old for me' 'Tasha and Maria sure seem like theyre fun, do you think they want a third' 'Wanda said she's fine with Vision, is that code for he's got no game' go and say hi or I will for you" Yelena shoved her a little harder this time and Kate went stumbling from her little safe space.

Now she was too close to you to go back to Yelena but too far to try and talk to you without yelling. With a big deep sigh, she stuck up her middle finger behind her where she heard the blonde chuckle and made her way over to you. She slowed a little when she heard your voice speak out onto the lake.

"Aw you're cute too, don't worry I'm not playing favourites, your siblings just like to steal my attention. I promise youre just as beautiful!" you spoke to these small creatures in the softest voice Kate had ever heard. Resting peacefully next to you was Mama duck, her little babies splashing in the water in front of her and running laps around you.

The closer Kate got to you the harder it was to not completely fumble. On the otherside of you was a little sketchbook, a few rough line drawings of the ducks and the lake adorned the slightly oat coloured page. Of course you were an artist! All the more reason for Kate to back out of this! You were so cool and soft spoken, she felt like you yourself belonged in an art museum. 'So beautiful' she thought.

With a final breath of encouragement, she sat down next to you gently as to not startle the ambience and you froze tentatively at the new body but what she said next made you at ease instantly. "They taste great with orange" was the only thing that made its way out of Kate's mouth and she was mortified. From then on, the lake was your favourite place to watch the archer and her scary blonde friend roam around in the early mornings of Spring.

A gentle tug on your belt loop drew your attention back to reality and you realised that 1, Lucky's leash was now in your girlfriend's hold not yours, who knows when the switch happened and 2, she brought you to the infamous spot. "How stupid" You heard her chuckle as the two of you sat down and got comfortable as Lucky went off-leash around the two of you. "It was cuteee, little baby Katie all shy and stumbly" you teased her but a playful (yet threatening) glare made you gulp.

"I still remember how beautiful you looked that day" Kate sighed in awe and pulled you close to her, your head falling on her shoulder. "Stop" you blushed and she kissed your head. "I still remember the way you would always look away when Yelena caught you staring at us" this time you actually whined at the memory. "She's scary! You can't blame me! Not when her sister is Black Widow, of course she'll scare me!" you huffed against her collarbone and she shuddered.

"Baby, Yelena isnt called Ducky for no reason! Tasha I can understand, but Lena? She's a fluff ball" Kate snickered and rolled her eyes at the obvious comparison. A small bark from Lucky broke the two out of your conversation and you couldn't believe your eyes as you sat up. A small family of ducks made their way over towards the lip of the lake and Lucky sniffed the bigger one before walking off with a happy smile, layig behind Kate in the shade.

"Hi little ones! G'mornin Mama and Papa duck" you whispered in awe as the family of 7 waddled towards your area, butts shaking off the water as the little ones followed Mama. "Still as soft as ever my angel girl" Kate murmured and pulled you in for a tender kiss. The two of you stayed in your little bubble for hours until Lucky was getting angsty and losing his concentration and ignoring commands from your girlfriend.

"Buhbye little quackpots" you smiled at the flock and they returned to their watery sanctum, one of the bigger ducks hanging around the area a little longer before following it's babies and paddling off.

A little while later and you found yourself sitting on the couch blindfolded waiting for your girlfriend to return to you. Lucky was asleep on the other sofa so there wasn't even a chance of him alerting her presence. Not a sound escaped your lips while you waited, you knew better than to disobey a command. A small shuffle to the left of you had you almost turning your head but once again, she told you to not to move and stay still.

You could feel her near you, you could head her, you could smell her perfume but nothing was said. The smirk on the archer's lips was growing with every passing second, you were always so good for her. her good little pet. She let a few more seconds pass before taking pity on you and places a few delicate things in your open hands.

She got you a palette, paint and brushes. The very paint set you had been eying for weeks. Every art store was out and you quite frankly had given up on ever finding a supplier that still had it. "Baby..." you spoke in disbelief, your face twisting from shock to awe in a matter of seconds. "Paint me" Kate grabbed your chin gently and it was only then did you notice that she was in nothing but lace panties and an oversized silky top.

You nodded dumbly scrambling to get up and grab a canvas from the art room but a gentle squeeze around your wrist stopped you. "Paint me" she spoke softly and lead your hand down to her thigh. When the two of you first started dating, Kate would always let you use her back as a canvas when you ran out at home. You nodded again and mumbled out 'water, going to need water' as you raced to the kitchen to grab a container for water and steadily walked over to the couch.

"Lie down" you gently pushed her so she was laying flat on her back and started organising your paint. "I miss your art" Kate said suddenly and you sighed a little, straddling her lap facing away from her to start on her thighs. "We both know how busy we get with work and stuff for me to actually start and finish something" you traced an outline of something and you felt your girlfriend's abs tighten underneath you. Guess she was enjoying this as much as you were.

"We need a year long vacation" she let out a humourus laugh underneath you and you had to focus so hard on the art currently forming on her leg. You hummed as you continued your painting, leaning forward occasionally for a colour or an area on her thigh and nearly jumped when gentle but deliberate hands placed themselves just under your butt.

"Kate- you're gonna make me lose focus" you warned quietly when her hands snuck into the leg holes, snapping your panties against the soft skin underneath. "That isn't my name, and you better not mess up, I wanna take a photo of it when it's done" she teased and her hands just started roaming as you tried to concentrate on her thigh.

You took a deep breath in when you realised you needed to reach for some paint again. 100% she was gonna do something while you were bent over. You mustered up all the strength you had and bent over, reaching for the paint and your hips stuttered as she ran a smooth finger over your panties, paying a little more attention to your clit.

"Please- you're gonna make me mess up" you whined when she kept her fingers where they were as you moved back to your spot atop her abs. "My good girl won't mess up, I know it, just ignore Daddy and make her thigh all pretty" Kate cooed from behind you as she slipped a finger inside your panties this time, only focusing on your little bundle of nerves.

Your hips involuntarily started grinding down on her stomach, desperate for more but a smack made them freeze instantly. "Stay still" she reprimanded and pushed that finger inside, adding another one with a smirk. You trapped your lip between your teeth and tried to continue on the painting but when she lazily circled your clit with her other hand you just about folded.

"Daddy- I can't- need more" you whimpered when she started curling them slowly. "No you don't, you need to finish your art. I told you I missed you doing it" she asnwered with fake sympathy and gently guided your hips towards her face, causing your brain to short circuit as she mumbled a 'down'. You complied easily and took a few shaky breaths in before making another attempt to paint her thigh, groaning when she used it to her advantage and slipped your panties and bottoms down to your thighs.

She removed her fingers and licked a bold stripe along your folds, sucking a particular harsh suck on your clit. "Mfhpm" you groaned as you fell into her non painted thigh. "Keep painting lovey" she mumbled against you and you whimpered and raised your hips to stop the stimulation. "Down" she commanded with much more authority this time and your hips stuttered as she pulled them onto her face. There was no way you were gonna finish this painting.

"Make it pretty baby, Daddy wants to show her friends how talted her baby is" Kate spoke lowly before pushing her tongue in your pussy, occasionally sucking. At one point you thought you were suffocating her with how hard you were pushing your hips into her face. No matter how much you tried to escape her torture, she kept you in your place and kept her pace steady. Your slick coated her lips and chin and she was still lazily eating you out. She didn't care.

"I'm n-nearly finished" you stuttered out as you reached over one more time for the final few stokes of the colour in use. Your girlfriend used that for one last opportunity to slide three fingers in and curl them on your sweet spot, completely catching you off guard. A low pornographic moan left your lips and she smirked at the sound. "You're lucky I didn't ask you do paint in silence" she hummed and took her fingers out as you finished her leg. "All done" you sat upright on her abs and looked over your shoulder.

She sat up (with you in her lap) and admired the art, a fond smile gracing her lips. "Just as beautiful as the artist" she turned you around to face her and stole your lips in a needy kiss. One of her hands snuck up towards your neck and she held your face gently before pushing it up so your neck was exposed. "Now let Daddy paint her canvas" she mumbled and started marking your neck in dark angry bruises. Safe to say, you both forgot about taking a photo of the painting and the couch had a colourful flower imprint on it the next day.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,060

Picture NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (Roughly) - 12 minutes

This one was actually a request, which I don't typically do, but sometimes I simply can't resist!

Tag(s) - @rishdrago

With a tired sigh (Y/n) sat the last of her groceries onto the counter in her kitchen. It was another long day at work, with another grueling case coming to a close. While she loves her job, sometimes it really takes a toll on her. But now at home all she needs to worry about is putting away her groceries, and making a quick dinner. Easy enough. If it wasn't for the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway that set her into fight or flight mode.

Spinning on her heel in an instant, she unholstered her pistol and aimed at the doorway to the hallway. "You really messed up you know, but if you know what's good for you, you'll come into the light nice and slow. Otherwise you're gonna leave my house in an ambulance, or a body bag." (Y/n) called out to the would be intruder, bracing herself for a potential firefight. But when the intruder rounded the corner, and came into sight, she nearly dropped her gun. "Frank?" She breathed out in a whisper, her arms falling to her sides. "Frank's dead." He muttered mournfully. "You look pretty fucking alive to me." She sassed as she holstered her pistol, knowing deep down that she could still trust Frank with her life.

The behemoth of a man simply shrugged his shoulders, taking a small first step into the room, as if he was testing the water. "What are you doing here?" She asked turning back to her groceries, while letting him come into the room at his own pace. "I killed Gianni Franco." He stated as he walked up to the other side of the counter, leaving the space between them to prove he meant her no harm. "Trust me Frank, I am well aware of that. You do realize I'm still a detective right? And I'm still friends with Jake you know, so I'm the one he goes to, to vent about you." She glanced his way, trying to get a read of his reaction to her words.

He seemed unbothered, which really didn't surprise her. "I'm sorry." Now that surprised her. Setting the box of noodles down, she turned her full attention to Frank. "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one you should apologize to." She pointed out, but Frank didn't seem bothered, as he casually scratched at the scruff on his face. "Frank why are you here?" She asked now standing across from him at the counter, looking into his eyes which once swirled with so much life. "I don't know... I'm not exactly sure what to do now." He admitted.

"Jake would tell you to turn yourself in." (Y/n) mused with a small smile, her words making him chuckle softly under his breath, a sound she had missed more than she ever realized until now. "That's why I came to you." He admitted, now leaning against the counter. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me on the spot like Jake, and I could just talk to you." Frank admitted with a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well that's where me and Jake are different, I actually believe you're doing the world good by killing those guys. People like that have to much money and power for us to touch, and we could use a vigilante to even out the odds." She hummed as she grabbed a beer from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to Frank, who took it with a small mutter of thanks. "I knew you'd feel that way." He said before sipping his beer. "Then why didn't you come to me sooner?" She asked as she leaned again the counter.

"Because I don't want you trying to join me." He stated matter-of-factly, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "That's fair I guess, but what's changed? Why come to me now?" She pried, hoping he would open up to her. "I had a dream about you last night." His words stuck a cord in (Y/n)'s heart, one she didn't realize was still there until now. "A dream?" She played off her nerves like a natural, making her glad she was trained to hide her true emotions, in order to effectively interrogate suspects.

"It started as a nightmare, I was reliving their deaths." She knew he was referring to his family, so she didn't pry for clarification, knowing it only hurt him to talk about them. "But before I could wake up, you appeared from the shadows. You didn't say anything, you just..." He trailed off as he stared at his beer. "You just pulled me into a hug, and held me while I cried for them." (Y/n)'s heart broke at his admittance, she knew he hated showing vulnerably before he lost his family, let alone now that he's The Punisher.

"It made me realize how much I've missed you, and I also realized I can't keep doing this alone, I can't keep being alone." He looked up to her, his eyes ever so glossy. "I know Julie would want me to move on, to come to terms with what happened. But I couldn't do that while the Franco's were still alive and free." He sipped his beer. "But now... Now I need help getting through this, and you're the only one that can help me (Y/n)." Frank wanted to hold her hand as he spoke, but he resisted the urge.

"I'll always be here for you Frank." She assured him, her words pulling a genuine smile from him. "How about I make us some dinner, and we can figure out where to go from there." She offered, smiling when he nodded in agreement. "You should stay here tonight, get a shower and have some normalcy for a change." She added. "Are you trying to say I smell bad?" He asked with a playful smirk.

"Frank dear I've been holding my breath this entire time." (Y/n) joked, making him roll his eyes, despite his smile. "Still a smartass I see." He huffed. "You wouldn't have it any other way." She sassed before pointing to the hallway. "You still remember where the guestroom is." She added, smiling when he nodded and walked off to take a shower while she cooked dinner.

"Well what are you planning on doing now that you've dealt with the Franco family?" (Y/n) asked before she finished off the last bite of her dinner. "There are still people who are not punished by the justice system." Frank stated having finished his dinner long before she had. "Are you planning on doing to them what you did to the Franco's?" She asked. "Only to those who deserve it." Frank clarified, setting (Y/n)'s mind at ease.

"I'm glad you've come to me Frank, but I'm unbelievably exhausted, and I need to get some sleep." She rose from her seat, picking up her plate, and moving to grab his. Frank took her plate, and grabbed his own. "I'll deal with the dishes, go to bed, we can talk more in the morning." He insisted. "Okay thank you." She leaned over and pecked his temple like she used to as a quick thanks. "Oh and I forgot to ask, you didn't break any windows to get in did you?" She asked.

"No don't worry, I just picked the lock on the back door." He shrugged casually. "You still have that spare key I gave you don't you?" She arched a brow at him, and his faint smile gave him away. "Goodnight Frank." She called as she walked away into the hall. "Goodnight (Y/n)." He called back to her. When (Y/n) reached her bedroom, she began shedding off her clothes, in desperate need of a warm shower before going to bed.

As the water washed over her sore muscles, (Y/n)'s mind drifted to Frank. She'd been so torn up when he was declared dead, and mourned for him and his family for many months. They were a big part of her life, they were family to her. Even though deep down (Y/n) had loved Frank in a deeper more heart wrenching way. She knew it wasn't right, she knew that then, and even now she feels guilty for it.

She never acted on it, and never intended on trying to take him as her own. He was happy and he deserved the love he already had with Julie. Now things are different, but it still doesn't feel right, even if it's been over a year since she passed. He clearly still loved her, and (Y/n) wasn't going to make a fool of herself, and potentially push him away and loose him again. Still she couldn't deny the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him again, so much more gruff and rugged.

And knowing that he trusted her enough to come to her made her head spin. By the time she finished her shower, her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Her mind was still stuck on Frank, even as she crawled between the sheets. She wondered idly if he would still be here in the morning, or if he'd ever come back when he did leave. As she began drifting to sleep, she heard the sound of the guestroom door opening and closing. Telling her he was still here, and most likely would still be come morning.

(Y/n)'s sleep was dreamless and peaceful, which was better than she'd had in weeks. While Frank's dreams were chaotic and filled with memories that still hurt him oh so deeply. He dreamt of his children, of his wife, of the look of betrayal and hurt on Jakes face. Then he dreamt of (Y/n), and her never ending acceptance of the choices he's made. He felt at ease while he dreamt of her, his tense muscles relaxing as he dreamt of walking with her beside a lake.

She always had a way of putting him at ease, just by simply being there and listening to him vent whenever he needed it. He knew she meant more to him than just a friend, but he much like her, had never intended on exploring those feelings. But now after everything, despite knowing he's putting her in danger by coming around, Frank knows he needs her. He needs her help more than ever, and he knows deep down that Julie would understand.

When morning came Frank woke up to the smell of breakfast. Something he's missed more than he realized until now. In a bit of a groggy daze Frank wondered into the kitchen, dressed in the sleep clothes he found in the closet in the guestroom. "Mornin' bud." (Y/n) mused as she pushed a fresh cup of coffee his way. "Morning." He muttered as he slipped at the hot brew, slightly surprised she remembered how he likes his coffee.

"You want some breakfast?" She asked as she pulled two plates from the cupboard. "Please." He nodded his head in agreement. "Good because I made plenty." She mused with a smile, as she placed a plate in front of him. "I'm glad you're still here and you didn't slip away in the night." She added sincerely. "I half expected that last night would be the last time I'd ever see you." Her words cut him deeper than he would have expected, but he understood where she was coming from.

"Like I said, I need your help." Frank said earnestly. "Well then, what's the plan?" She asked as she sat beside him with her own plate. "I don't really have a plan, but for now I think we'll just take it one day at a time, and figure it all out." He shrugged. "Wow the Frank Castle doesn't have a plan, that's a first." (Y/n) joked, making him chuckle. "So are you planning on staying here?" She asked a few moments later. "No I don't want to put you at risk of being caught hiding a fugitive." He shook his head.

"I appreciate that." She hummed softly, having worried a bit about that last night. "I think it'll be best if I just come in the evenings when I need... Well a shoulder to lean on I guess." He said, picking at his food a little. "And when you need patched up I imagine." She added, trying to lighten the mood a bit, and Frank agreed with a small chuckle. "Yeah I'm sure I probably will come to you when I need patched up." He smiled at her before going back to eating his breakfast. "I'll be sure to stock up on some supplies." (Y/n) mused more to herself, than to Frank.

(Y/n)'s pager went off with a shrill beeping, signaling that it was time to get to work. Her partner letting her know they already had a new case to work on. "Well that's my queue, I've gotta get going. I'll see you later Frank, don't worry about the dishes, I'll deal with that when I get home." (Y/n) moved back into the kitchen, placing her half empty plate into the sink for now. "Hey (Y/n)." Frank called to her before she could rush off. "Yeah?" She asked, turning her attention to him. "Thank you, for everything." He stood from his seat, and crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. "You're welcome Frank." She hummed as she hugged him back, feeling as though she's already made a difference in his chaotic life.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

I honestly couldn't think of a better way of ending this one, but I hope it was satisfactory either way. I'm a little rusty, as I haven't consistently written in ages, so I apologize if it didn't turn out as good as you hoped. (゜-゜)