#the most intensely I’ve played a game in a long time as well

[sparticus2000art]

I’ve been being a little insane about a new game recently, so I haven’t really made much art…

But!!

Fields of mistria has been super fun, and has super charming art, writing and characters, so I’ve been having a blast.

March is probably one of my favourites so far so I drew him with my farmer…

But if any of you guys like farm sims, it’s definitely got my glowing recommendation!

[ellecdc]

Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea

So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort

it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶

poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team

It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.

“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.

“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”

“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”

But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.

Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.

“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”

Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.

You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”

Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”

You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.

Perhaps more importantly, neither had James

“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.

“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.

“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.

“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.

“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.

“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.

“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”

“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.

“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”

You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”

With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.

The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.

As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.

Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.

Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.

In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.

“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.

With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.

You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.

Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.

You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.

Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.

Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.

There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.

There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.

The pressure became too much.

You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.

“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”

You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.

“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.

Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.

“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”

“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.

“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.

“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”

“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”

“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.

“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.

“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.

“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.

“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.

“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.

“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.

“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.

“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron. 

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”

But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.

“Mr. Black.”

“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney. 

“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.” 

You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate. 

“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.

“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”

“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.

“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.

“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.

“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.

“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.

“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.

Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.

“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side. 

“I know.” He whispered back.

“So are you.” 

Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.

“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy. 

“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”

“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle. 

Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead. 

“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.

You nodded and offered him a small smile. 

Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.

“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”

He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.

“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.

James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.” 

You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Just sore.” You offered with a nod. 

“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 

You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching. 

“I need a healer!”

James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking. 

“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”

James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”

“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”

[leahsgirl]

“yes you idiot.”

— in which leah has planned on proposing to you for a long time - except when that time does come; it all goes awry.

pairings - leah williamson x reader (female)

warnings - none, just minor swearing.

a/n - this is my first shot at writing so it may be horrible i apologise

—

“so once i’ve finished setting everything up I’ll text you and let you know i’m on my wa-“ Leah was mid conversation with Beth and Viv; until you interrupted of course, slotting yourself next to the blonde and matching strides with her as you make your way off the training pitch.

“what are you guys talking about?” you questioned as you observed beth and viv give each other a quick glance.

“nothing baby, I was just asking how myles was adjusting.” Leah replied, reaching out for your hand.

You and Leah have been dating for two and a half years, having officially met playing for the England squad a year prior. While Leah wasn’t your biggest fan to begin with - that soon changed when you made the transfer from manchester united to arsenal, allowing you and the blonde to get closer which then resulted in the two of you starting dating.

“oh my god, you have no idea how excited i’ve been to see him again.”

“i still want to know how you taught him to sit the first time meeting him - he won’t do it for me and Viv.” Beth bewildered.

“what can i say? i’m just the chosen one.” you smirked. “are you sure you can’t come Lee?” Now diverting your attention back to your girlfriend who was sorting out clothes to change into. You and a few of the other girls were going to Beth and Viv’s for a little girls/catch up night, unaware it was actually a set up to keep you out the house while Leah put her plan into action.

“i’ve got to go and help Jacob move stuff out of his apartment y/n or you know i’d be there.” She kissed your cheek.

“definitely just a sore loser because ya’ lost the game last time we went.” Katie piped up, appearing next to the taller girl who in turn gave her a petty slap on the arm.

—

“you’re beautiful.” a voice spoke from the other end of the room, slowly getting closer and wrapping their arms around you from behind as you looked at yourself in the mirror, peppering a few light kisses near your ear.

“and you’re late, weren’t you meant to meet Jacob twenty mins ago?”

Leah shrugged it off. “and miss the chance of admiring my girl. no way.” She planted a quick kiss on your lips, knowing you’d just finished applying your makeup. “besides, he changed the time to seven, i’ve got a good half an hour.”

She plonked herself down on the bed, fiddling with the rings she wore on her fingers. “what you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?” throughout your relationship with leah, you’ve got to know her pretty much inside and out, and if theres one thing you do know; she only messes with her rings when something is bothering her. “hm..nothing, just thinking about us i guess.”

“us?” you pushed, now joining her on the bed. “just like how we’ve ended up here and how thankful i am for you and everything.” the blue-eyed girl turned to look at you, as if she was studying your whole face. “well, i’m very thankful for you too, even if you are a pain in the arse most of the time.” the twenty-six year old faked hurt and annoyance. “but i love you.” you said more sincerely, placing a tender kiss on Leah’s forehead.

“i love you too.”

__

Leah kindly offered to drop you off at Beth and Viv’s which you accepted of course. All of the other girls were already there; Alessia and Lottie were fussing over myles, Katie, Caitlin and Steph was in what seemed like a very intense conversion, Jenn and Lia was messing with different filters on TikTok and Beth & Viv were playing host.

“there she is! y/n come in.” Viv ushered you inside and offered you a drink. You immediately making a beeline for the man of the hour, crouching down preparing to be bombarded by a very excited puppy.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Leah had began decorating. Her plan was for you to come home to a nice romantic homemade dinner, where after you share some nice conversation and food - she would pop the question, asking you to be her wife.

She’s had this planned for a good couple of months, having gone out with some of your teammates to acquire the goods and then going ring shopping on one of her few days off. To be honest, she was quite proud of herself she’s managed to keep this a secret from you for all this time.

The blonde started by blowing up some heart shaped balloons, followed by scattering rose petals from the front door all the way to the dining table which had been covered with a white table cloth and taper candles. She was making your favourite dishes for the meal of course; pasta with pesto and finishing with churros.

easier said than done however. “how do i make pasta?” the defender flipped the camera so her mum who was now on facetime can see the ingredients. It was times like this where she wishes she helped with the cooking more around the house. After practically what turned out to be a cooking lesson, Leah took the opportunity to change into something nicer, and less covered in flour.

Making her way around the bedroom, she opened her nightstand drawer, sifting a few things around until she pulled out a small black velvet box. She opened it briefly, checking the ring was okay and preyed to god you would like it.

Taking one final look at her work around the house, she pulled out her phone to text the fellow forward.

to: meado

just finished up back here, i’m gonna start heading to yours now.

As the night died down, your teammates and yourself had all congregated in the living room, spread across the sofa and the floor with some kind of cheesy sitcom that Lia put on playing in the background. Different conversations were going on, you finding yourself in a deep conversation with Jenn and Caitlin.

“Well well, look who finally decided to show her face.” Katie announced, pointing at all too familiar blonde locks. “Hey guys.” You got up and walked over to her planting a kiss on her cheek.

“i thought you had to help your brother?” You ask while absentmindedly rubbing her back. “oh..i did, we just finished so I thought i’d come pick you up.”

“Do you want a drink Leah?” Steph offered, holding up a beer in each hand. “No thanks, we have to get back to the apartment.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do we?”

“Yes we do, now come on.” She took your hand and tried to pull you to the door. “What’s with the rush? You’re being weird Lee.”

“I’m not - i’m just tired that’s all, i’m ready for bed.” She fake yawned. You sighed, “okay grumpy, just let me say bye to everyone.”

It’s safe to say the car ride home was no better. Leah’s leg was bouncing up and down which isn’t exactly ideal when you’re driving, she was cursing out everyone on the roads and kept messing with her bangs if they moved in the slightest. “Are you sure you’re okay love?”

The blonde turned to look and you and gave a weary smile, lifting your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle peck. “I’m fine I promise.”

Walking up the steps to your shared home, Leah stopped you before opening the door. “Okay I need you to close your eyes and only open them when I tell you.”

Complying, you shut your eyes. “Suspicious Miss Williamson.” You stated as you could hear your girlfriend fiddling with her keys in the door. she wrapped her arm around yours and guided you inside. “Okay you can open them now.” You followed her advice and took in your surroundings, suddenly getting an overwhelming sense of love surge over you. “Surprise.” Leah pulled you over to the candlelit table and pulled out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit down to then tuck you in. “Lee..i’m speechless. What’s all this for?”

“Just doing my girlfriend duties and treating you.” The blonde brought over two dishes to the table and sat herself down opposite you. “Shut up! you made my favourite meal?!” Taking a bite off your fork, your mouth practically waters with how good it tastes. “Oh my god, babe this is incredible.” Deciding to be more romantic, you twirl some of the pasta onto your fork and hold it out for Leah to take which she does.

it was all going really well; it had been long overdue since you and leah had a ‘date’ so to speak. While you loved your job and wouldn’t trade it for the world, it often meant romantic gestures like these were far and few in between.

“Is something burning?” The smell of smoke filling your nostrils as you look at the kitchen.

“Shit shit shit!” Leah was quick to her feet, opening the oven where a surge of grey smoke escaped and pulled out a tray with what were now very burnt churros. “For fuck sake.” The defender whined “Well there goes dessert.”

Joining her behind the kitchen island, you looked at the baking tray. “well..you tried.” half-heartedly joking, you looked at the older girl who now had a pout on her face. “It’s okay Leah, you made a lovely pasta. Besides, i’m sure we have some ice cream or something in the freezer.”

“No you don’t understand, tonight was meant to be perfect.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. You knitted your eyebrows together “Okay out with it.” sternly said, crossing your arms.

“Hm?”

“You’ve been on edge all day..you change the conversation when i caught up to you, meado and Viv. You couldn’t come to girls night which you never miss; i know you said you had to help your brother but then he suddenly changes times, you was angsty all the way home and now you’re practically arguing with the oven. So tell me what’s going on.”

Leah motioned for you to sit on the sofa. “Okay this isn’t how I wanted it to go down but-“ She took a deep breath. “Y/n, as you know i’m not really big on talking about my feelings, but the past three years have been the happiest of my life. you make me excited for the next day to come, you always push me, you stuck with me during my lowest, especially during my acl recovery, you just make me a better person.”

She takes your hand in hers, caressing your skin with her thumb and looks you directly in the eyes which at this point were working hard to not well up. “I guess what i’m trying to say is-“ She reaches into her pants pocket pulling out the familiar black velvet box. “-Will you marry me?”

As she says those four words, she opens the box and looks down at it, doing a double take as she sees its empty - the ring no where to be seen. “What the fuck, where’s the pissing ring.” Colour is draining from her face at this point as she stands up and frantically starts pacing. “You’ve got to be shitting me, the one day i need things to go smoothly.”

“Do you mean this ring?” You held up a ring with an oval diamond at the centre of it. Leah looked dumbfounded “How-how did you-“ The blonde was at a loss for words.

“Lee you dropped it twice during dinner - i even passed it to you once.” You giggled as you passed her the ring back “Did you?”

“See, you’ve been so uptight you didn’t even realise.” Standing up, you wrapped your arms around her neck, moving closer so that your faces were inches apart. “But my answer is yes.” you say barely above a whisper.

“yes?” at this point you thought you’d broke your poor girlfriend. “Yes i’ll marry you idiot.” Pressing your lips onto hers, you emerged yourselves into a deep kiss filled with passion.

Your now fiancé slipped the ring into your finger, admiring the ring and then you. She picked you up, twirling you around out of pure happiness and relief.

“Now how about dessert?” You winked and tugged her towards the bedroom.

liked by lucybronze and 2,086,773 others

leahwilliamson introducing future mrs williamson

usera SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

chloekelly congratulations ❤️

userb y/n on that wag life

youruser whose to say it’s not gonna be ‘leah y/l/n’

leahwilliamson replying to youruser y/n williamson just sounds better

kierawalsh congrats lovebirds 😄❤️

liked by alessiarusso and 1,887,201 others

youruser imagine i said no

ellatoone 😍❤️

userc Y/N’s GETTING MARRIED IM DOING ROLYPOLYS

1maryearps congrats kiddo!

userd please the difference in her and leah’s captions

jodiemcomer so happy for you y/n, congrats X

[kinkandkreep]

Celebratory Blue Lock Boi Yandere Interpretations: Ryusei Shidou, Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Reo Mikage, Rin Itoshi

A/N:...Hey hey y'all...🙂 Ok, so I fuckin' lied I am so sorry. 😭 These was sposed to be for my birthday yestaday but the day got so busy and I was tied den a mug, so posting these did not happen. 🙃 But! Alas, I am here now, and I have for you all my introductory yandere interpretations for 5 of the Blue Lock boyos!

Keep in mind, I am still getting caught up on the anime so if anything reads off, I apologize. I'll very likely either come back and adjust these as I become more familiar with their personalities or just post a whole new set for each boy.

Anyway, enjoy!

Ryusei Shidou: 

Let me just say right off the bat that I get the strong notion that Ryusei is gonna swiftly become my favorite character the more exposed I am to him (like I already love his design and that weird sexual edge his character possesses 😏)

That aside, as a Yandere, I envision that he maintains that same intense energy he has about football, it just manifests a little differently

You make his heart “explode,” in a similar fashion to his precious football- either that, or you possess an “explosive” quality within yourself that draws him in

I saw someone say that outside of a few specific circumstances, Ryu is a pretty chill dude, which I think is 100% true

And I believe this can even apply to you, in the Yandere sense as well

Ryusei can be intense, and a little monopolizing 

He's also somewhat possessive 

But for the most part, as long as he knows you're his and you continue to make him “explode,” Ryusei isn't the worst Yan to have

Now, in my research, I have seen some interpretations of him where he’s much more sadistic than I personally envision him to be, which of course is fine, but just know that my Ryusei can’t really be bothered to act sadistically unless you try to fight him

Exactly why you’d try to do that is beyond me, but if you did happen to want to start a physical altercation with Ryu, he may be inclined to be a little rough with you, just to show a bit of what he’s capable of and also keep you in check

Yoichi Isagi:

I just look at Yoichi and a single phrase comes to mind- “he’s a sweetheart unless provoked”

You, provoke him

You make this nagging little voice in the back of his head make the Spongebob “wee-woo” sound at like max volume every time you’re in each other’s vicinity

Yandere Yoichi adores you

He’s like a little pup around you, always wanting attention and affirmation and reassurance that he’s the best, and the he’s going to be the best, and that throughout it all you’ll never leave him

But! He can also be kind of intense and maybe a bit of an asshole

Like just look at him and tell me you don’t get that vibe

I’m new to the game as it relates to Blue Lock but from what I’ve gleaned, Yoichi has a sort of metaphorical switch that turns on and off depending on the circumstance

Things get heavy when he’s on the field, and that’s when his “Ego” comes out

It makes him more cocky and confident, from what I understand, and I’d say the same thing applies where it concerns you

For the most part, Yandere Yoichi is just your average puppy with a thigh fetish

But let the “Ego” come out, and now he’s more domineering, controlling and patronizing

Try not to trigger that part of him though, and Yoichi is actually a pretty ok Yandere to have

Meguru Bachira:

Meg’s a weirdo but one of the lovable variety

He’s a very eccentric character, as I’m sure anyone who’s familiar with Blue Lock will know

He talks about the “monster” that inhabits his psyche and manifests itself when he plays soccer

I don’t particularly subscribe to the idea that this “monster” influences his actions on a normal, day to day basis (though that could be the case and I just missed it in my research) but I can definitely see how one would think it does

I will say that years of simple…cohabitation (?) with the monster has definitely left an indelible mark on Meguru’s mind

Yandere Meguru especially 

To Yandere Meguru Bachira, you are perhaps the most important thing in his life

Being bullied for so long and so relentlessly probably wasn’t the best for his mental and emotional wellbeing, as you can imagine, so Meguru has been in desperate need of someone to come along and show him genuine love and support

He’s found that in you, and that’s part of the reason his Yandere personality/tendencies make an appearance when he’s with you

He’s definitely clingy and wants all your attention all the time, and he’s also not very knowledgeable on what it means to give someone their personal space

He doesn’t give you much autonomy either, really preferring to do things for you when given the chance

He can get a little intense, but he’d never hurt you 

Physically, at least

And if by some off chance he were to hurt you otherwise, it would never be on purpose

All that said, I do kind of think that Bachira would be one of the slightly more uncomfortable Yans to have, simply on account of his neediness 

Reo Mikage: 

FIrst off, let me just say, eat the rich 😤

Chile when I was doin’ my research and saw dis dude’s frankly ridiculous net worth I was appalled 

But if he smart enough to know what to do with the money and assets then I guess it’s whateva 🤷🏾‍♀️

Anyway, that aside, let’s focus back up 😂

I could potentially see Reo being one of the more strict Yan’s to have 

He just has so much to protect, and that includes you

He’s also probably very used to getting the things he wants and having things go his way that he can’t imagine you not reciprocating his feelings, or at the very least seeing the benefit in choosing him over everyone else

And as we’ve seen (me only partially really, I’m still makin’ my way through the show 🙃) he already has some form of an attachment issue as it relates to Nagi, or alternatively, the things he’s invested time and energy in and on

Which, as you can imagine, would include you, should he decide to pursue you

As a Yandere, Reo is admittedly controlling and a bit smothering

But he’s just like that ‘cus he wants to ensure that nothing will separate you two!

It’s innocent really, honest!

And given Reo’s reputation, it would be rather difficult to convince others that he’s, well, kinda crazy if you were so inclined

But other than that, as long as you remain loyal, Reo’s a pretty fair Yandere

Rin Itoshi:

Whoo boy, this one’s a tough nut to crack

I honestly think Rin is more tsun than yan but I could definitely see where the Yandere aspect of him could potentially rear its head

I’m not 100% up on my knowledge of what the hell his deal is with his brother, but from what I’ve gathered, there’s this mostly one-sided rivalry (on Rin’s part) towards Sae (his brother, for the uninformed) because he (Sae) refuses to acknowledge Rin in soccer and he abandoned their shared soccer dream from when they were little

That all being the case, I really like the concept that Rin is a Yandere for you because A.) something about you warms something cold and dead inside him and B.) you recognize him as talented and capable outside of his brother’s influence, and he (Rin) desperately clings to that affirmation 

Rin is undoubtedly possessive, wanting nothing more than to hide you away where only he can access you or, alternatively, make it known to everyone, in whatever way, that you belong to him

Rin is also somewhat domineering and controlling, as he still doesn’t want anything to tarnish his reputation

I think as a Yandere he’s a little more open to PDA (not by much at all, but just a little) 

I also think that, as a Yandere, Rin can be fairly intense without realizing it

Like during games and whatnot, he ups the ante ‘cus he knows you’re watching and he wants to impress you, keep your attention, and have earned your praise when he’s done

That could also apply to him normally sorta, but I think the behavior is more prominent in Yandere mode

All-in-all, Yandere Rin isn’t the most terrible, he’s mostly just…needy, in his own special way

[estapa-edwards]

HIDDEN FEELINGS - M. ESTAPA

paring: Mark Estapa x fem! reader

word count: 3.1k

requested? yes - mark falling for ethan’s twin sister, and never doing anything out of respect but ethan notices his heart eyes and tells him to go for it

warnings: use of y/n. multiple pov

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The rink is where I feel most alive. The smooth glide of my skates over the ice, the echo of the puck against the boards, the camaraderie of my teammates—hockey is more than a game to me, it’s a way of life. Playing for the University of Michigan has always been a dream, and now, here I am, living it.

I'm the twin sister of Ethan Edwards. Yes, that Ethan Edwards who's a standout player on the University of Michigan hockey team, right alongside Mark Estapa. Growing up, Ethan and I were inseparable. Hockey was our mutual love, and even though we both made it to the university level, we ended up on different teams. Ethan plays as a defenseman, known for his strength and reliability, while I'm a forward, valued for my speed and strategy.

Mark Estapa, on the other hand, is a force to be reckoned with on the ice. As a forward like me, he's got an uncanny ability to read the game, find the gaps in the defense, and score those crucial goals. He’s a great player, and over the seasons, I’ve come to respect and admire his skills.

Our growing friendship, however, didn’t happen overnight. Our two teams would occasionally practice together, and it was during these joint sessions that I began to notice Mark's friendly and approachable nature. We'd find ourselves paired up during drills or chatting during water breaks.

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One afternoon, after a particularly intense drill, Mark and I found ourselves catching our breaths on the bench.

“You handled that drill pretty well, Y/N,” Mark said, flashing me a genuine smile.

“Thanks, Mark. You weren’t too bad yourself,” I replied, matching his smile.

From there, our conversations became longer and more meaningful. One day, as we were stretching before practice, Mark turned to me with a curious expression.

“So, Y/N, what made you choose Michigan?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“I guess it was a combination of things,” I answered, thinking back to my decision. “The coaching staff here is amazing, and the program has a great reputation. Plus, Ethan being here didn’t hurt,” I added with a playful grin.

Mark chuckled. “I can see how having family around could be a bonus. I chose Michigan for similar reasons. The team has a great dynamic, and the opportunities for growth both as a player and a student are unparalleled.”

Our conversations didn’t just revolve around hockey; we talked about our classes, our hobbies, and our future goals. It was during one of these post-practice chats that Mark opened up about his passion for photography.

“I’ve always loved taking pictures,” he said, showing me some of his recent shots on his phone. “It’s a way for me to capture moments and emotions that words can’t express.”

I was impressed by his talent and passion. “These are amazing, Mark. You have a real eye for it.”

“Thanks, Y/N. It’s something I hope to pursue more seriously someday,” he said, looking slightly vulnerable.

As the weeks went by, our conversations continued to deepen. We shared stories about our families, our dreams, and even our fears. I found myself looking forward to our practice sessions not just for the hockey but also for the chance to spend time with Mark.

We'd find ourselves paired up during drills or chatting during water breaks. Our teammates began to notice our growing camaraderie, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to tease us about our lengthy conversations.

“You two should just start your own podcast,” Ethan joked one day as he walked past us, a smirk on his face.

Despite the teasing, Mark and I cherished our newfound friendship. Our long conversations became the highlight of my day, and I found myself feeling more and more connected to him with each passing practice.

But lately, it's not just his skills on the ice that have caught my attention. 

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Growing up as a twin, you learn the importance of boundaries and loyalty early on. Ethan and I shared everything—our toys, our secrets, our dreams. So, when I first joined the University of Michigan's hockey team and met Mark Estapa, I couldn’t help but notice his attractiveness. His tall stature, his athletic build, and that charming smile were hard to ignore. But I also knew he was Ethan’s teammate, and I would never do anything to jeopardize their friendship or our family bond.

During those early practices, I would steal glances at Mark, admiring his skill and athleticism on the ice. His dedication and passion for the game were evident, and it only added to his appeal. But each time I felt a flutter in my stomach or caught myself daydreaming about him, I would quickly push those feelings aside, reminding myself of the unspoken rule: teammates were off-limits.

As our teams began to practice together more frequently, Mark and I started to interact more. Our conversations were light-hearted and filled with laughter, but underneath it all, there was an undeniable chemistry brewing. I found myself drawn to him not just because of his looks but also because of his personality. He was kind, thoughtful, and genuinely interested in getting to know me.

Despite these growing feelings, I was determined to keep my emotions in check. I didn’t want to create any awkwardness or tension within the team, especially given Ethan’s close friendship with Mark.

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MARKS POV 

The first time Y/n Edwards and I really talked was during one of those joint practices. I remember it well— we were both catching our breath on the bench after a tough drill. I looked over at Y/N, and for the first time, I saw her not just as Ethan's twin sister but as Y/N Edwards, an incredible player in her own right.

“You handled that drill pretty well, Y/N,” I said, trying to initiate a conversation.

“Thanks, Mark. You weren’t too bad yourself,” she replied, matching my smile.

In that moment, something shifted. Her smile, her wit, the way she talked about hockey—it all captivated me. She was more than just a talented player; she was someone I wanted to get to know on a deeper level.

As we continued to chat, our conversation flowed effortlessly. We talked about everything from our reasons for choosing Michigan to our hobbies and interests outside of hockey. I was genuinely intrigued by her, and I found myself wanting to learn more about the person behind the player.

But as much as I was drawn to Y/N, I knew I had to tread carefully. She was Ethan's sister, and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries or make things awkward within the team. So, I tried to keep our interactions friendly and professional, all while secretly hoping for more.

The more I got to know Y/N, the harder it became to ignore my growing feelings for her. Her intelligence, her passion for the game, and her kind-hearted nature made her irresistibly attractive to me. But I also knew that acting on my feelings could complicate things, and I didn't want to risk our friendship or create any tension within the team.

Despite these internal struggles, I couldn’t deny the connection I felt with Y/N. Each conversation, each laugh, each shared moment only deepened my admiration and affection for her. I found myself looking forward to our joint practices not just for the hockey but also for the chance to spend time with her.

But lately, it's not just her skills on the ice that have caught my attention.

During one of our joint practices, we were waiting for our turn to jump onto the ice for the next drill. Y/N was leaning against the boards, lacing up her skates, completely engrossed in her task. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on her face and highlighting the golden undertones in her hair.

I couldn’t help but stare.

She looked up, catching my gaze, and flashed me a quick smile before returning her attention to her skates. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly looked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed my lingering gaze.

As we took to the ice for the next drill, I found myself distracted, my thoughts consumed by the simple beauty of that moment. Y/N's natural grace and poise, even in something as mundane as lacing up her skates, left me in awe.

I knew I was treading dangerous waters, but in that moment, I couldn’t help but be captivated by her beauty. She was more than just a talented hockey player; she was a vision of grace and elegance that I found myself drawn to, unable to look away.

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Y/N POV

I found myself watching Mark as he talked with some of our teammates. He was animated, gesturing with his hands and laughing at something someone had said. I was captivated by his energy and charisma, and for a moment, I lost myself in the way the sunlight caught the highlights in his hair and how his eyes sparkled with genuine happiness.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Ethan approaching until he spoke, "You okay, Y/N? You seem a little distracted."

Startled, I quickly looked away from Mark, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine," I stammered, trying to regain my composure.

Ethan gave me a knowing smile but didn’t press further. "Alright, just making sure," he said, patting me gently on the shoulder before heading back to the group.

Relieved that Ethan hadn’t called me out on my obvious distraction, I took a deep breath and refocused on the practice. But even as I skated back onto the ice, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mark was becoming more than just a teammate to me.

One evening, I found myself at Ethan's apartment, sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, ready to watch a movie. Ethan had invited some of his teammates over, including Mark, to hang out and relax after a grueling week of practice and games.

As I settled into the comfortable cushions, Mark walked into the living room, a casual smile on his face. He greeted everyone warmly before taking a seat on the armchair opposite the couch. Our eyes met briefly, and a subtle spark passed between us, but we both quickly looked away, maintaining a friendly distance in front of Ethan and the others.

As the movie started to play, Ethan and Mark began discussing a recent game, dissecting plays and strategies with the kind of intensity only true hockey enthusiasts possess. I found myself drawn into the conversation, sharing my own insights and opinions, and soon, Mark and I were engaged in our own little world of hockey talk, much to Ethan's amusement.

Throughout the evening, I couldn't help but steal glances at Mark, admiring his easygoing demeanor and genuine interest in our conversation. His laughter was infectious, and I found myself laughing along with him, feeling a connection that went beyond our shared love for hockey.

Despite the casual setting and the presence of Ethan and the others, I couldn’t ignore the growing tension between Mark and me. It was as if we were dancing around the undeniable chemistry that had been building between us, both of us aware of the line we were toeing but unwilling to cross it in front of Ethan and our teammates.

As the evening wore on and the movie came to an end, I realized that my feelings for Mark were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just a teammate or Ethan’s friend; he was someone I genuinely cared about, and I found myself looking forward to the next opportunity to spend time with him, both on and off the ice.

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ETHANS POV

As the evening unfolded in my apartment, I couldn't help but notice the subtle undercurrents between Mark and Y/N. From my vantage point on the couch, I could see the way they exchanged glances when they thought no one was looking, the way their laughter seemed to echo in sync, and the way they both seemed completely engrossed in their own world, despite the presence of our teammates.

At first, I brushed it off as mere camaraderie—after all, they were both passionate about hockey and had been spending a lot of time together at practices. But as the evening wore on, I began to sense something more—a genuine connection that went beyond friendship.

I glanced over at Y/N, who was laughing at something Mark had said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Then I looked at Mark, who was smiling back at her, his eyes softening in a way I had never seen before. It was clear that there was something special between them, something that went beyond the confines of the rink and our hockey team.

As Y/N and Mark continued to talk and laugh together, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of surprise and curiosity. Mark was my teammate and one of my closest friends, and Y/N was my twin sister. The thought of them being more than just friends was unexpected, but the more I observed their interactions, the more it made sense.

Despite my initial reservations, I couldn’t deny the connection between them. They seemed to complement each other in a way that was both surprising and endearing. And as much as it caught me off guard, I found myself rooting for them, hoping that they would find happiness together, both on and off the ice.

As the evening came to an end and everyone started to say their goodbyes, I pulled Mark aside for a moment.

"Hey, man, are you and Y/N...you know, getting close?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

Mark looked slightly taken aback but then smiled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Yeah, I think we are," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

I smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Well, as long as you're both happy, that's all that matters," I replied,

"Are you serious? I was so scared to tell you that I think I'm falling for her." Mark said.

I looked at Mark, surprised by his honesty and vulnerability. His eyes were sincere, and I could see the genuine concern in them.

"Mark, I had no idea you felt that way," I said, feeling a pang of guilt for not noticing his hesitation earlier. "I'm sorry for putting you on the spot like that."

Mark chuckled softly, his smile returning but with a slightly nervous edge. "It's okay, Ethan. I guess I've just been overthinking things. I really care about Y/N, and I didn't want to mess things up, especially since we're teammates and she's your sister."

I clapped Mark on the shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. "Look, as surprising as it is, I'm actually really happy for you two. Y/N deserves someone who genuinely cares about her, and I can see that you do. Just promise me you'll treat her right, okay?"

Mark nodded earnestly, his eyes shining with gratitude. "I promise, Ethan. She means a lot to me, and I want to do right by her."

Feeling reassured, I smiled at Mark, grateful for his honesty and commitment to Y/N. "Alright then, I trust you. Just remember, if you ever hurt her, you'll have to answer to me," I added with a playful smirk.

Mark laughed, his tension finally breaking. "Understood, Captain."

As we rejoined the others to say our final goodbyes, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement. Despite the unexpected turn of events, I was genuinely happy for Y/N and Mark. They had found something special in each other, and as their friend and brother, I couldn't wait to see where their relationship would lead.

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Y/N POV

As we approached my apartment building, the atmosphere between Mark and me had shifted subtly. There was a sense of anticipation, a tangible connection that seemed to be growing stronger with each step we took. When we reached the entrance, Mark stopped and turned to face me, his blue eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice slightly shaky but sincere. "Earlier, when Ethan asked me if we were getting close, I told him that I think I'm falling for you."

I felt my heart leap in my chest, a rush of emotions surging through me. His confession was unexpected but also exhilarating, confirming the feelings I had been trying to suppress.

"Mark," I started, searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling. "I'm not sure how to say this, but... I think I'm falling for you too."

The moment the words left my lips, a wide smile spread across Mark's face, his eyes lighting up with joy and relief.

"Really?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

I nodded, feeling a warm blush spread across my cheeks. "Yes, really. I've been trying to ignore my feelings, but the truth is, I've been falling for you too, Mark."

A look of pure happiness washed over Mark's face, and without hesitation, he stepped closer, cupping my face gently with his hands. "Y/N, I'm so glad to hear that," he whispered, his eyes locked onto mine.

Feeling emboldened by our mutual confession, I leaned in, closing the distance between us, and our lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. It was a simple yet powerful affirmation of the connection we had both been feeling but had been too afraid to acknowledge until now.

As we pulled apart, our faces flushed and smiles wide, Mark looked into my eyes, his gaze filled with warmth and affection.

"Do you wanna come in?" I asked, my voice soft and inviting, the words coming out almost on their own accord, as if guided by the newfound courage and excitement that bubbled within me.

Mark's eyes sparkled with anticipation, but he hesitated for a moment, wanting to be respectful of the situation and our budding relationship.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and caution.

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes, I'm sure," I replied, feeling a surge of boldness.

A broad smile spread across Mark's face, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "I'd love to," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth and excitement.

Taking my hand in his, Mark followed me into the building, our fingers intertwined as we headed up to my apartment.

[discount-shades]

Sleepy Baby Part 1

a/n: I got this in my head and couldn’t find another fic that mentioned it. This is the first fic I've ever written.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/reader

Warning: brief mentions of car crash and cheating

Word Count: 1100 ish

Summary: Jake must defend his call sign to a stranger, and he is on a timer. 

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You checked the timer on your phone for the third time, sighing at the 32 minutes remaining. One hour, every week, socializing with strangers. That was the deal you made with your therapist. 

Eighteen months after a horrific car crash killed your fiancé and childhood best friend your therapist suggested you ‘get back out there.’ It wasn’t just their deaths that you were working through in your twice monthly therapy sessions. It was the fact that she was blowing him when they crashed. You thought that was something that only happened in movies and tv shows.  Your grief was… complicated. 

So here you were at the bar of the week nursing a whiskey sour until the timer on your phone said you could go home. You surreptitiously glance around. Judging by the uniforms of the other patrons and the décor the Hard Deck was a military bar. You massage your temples and check your phone again, 29 minutes to go. 

“Need some company while you wait for your date?” You glance to your left at the southern drawl. An unfairly handsome man in a uniform with green eyes is looking down at you and you stare a little too long. “I’ve been watching you check your phone,” he explains, “he’s an idiot to keep you waiting.“ 

“I'm not expecting company,” you roll your eyes at him. “But thank you for assuming I’m being stood up. It was definitely the vibe I was going for.” You take another sip of your drink so you have something to do with your hands. 

A slow smile breaks out across his face. “In that case I’m Hangman.”

“I'm sorry your parents hated you.”

At your deadpan response he chuckles. “It’s my call sign,” he explains smugly. “I'm a fighter pilot.” He is easily the most attractive man in the bar and he knows it, and there is something about his inflated ego that makes you want to pop it. Just a little.

“Hangman like the spelling game?” you ask and he nods and brushes your arm, leaning into you.

You hum noncommittally, cocking your head as you look at him. “You know some schools discourage playing hangman.” You tell him. “They don’t want to encourage violence in children so they play Sleepy Baby instead.”

“Sleepy Baby?” He asks in confusion, leaning back.

“Yeah, you draw a baby in a crib instead of a man on the gallows,” you grin at his scandalized expression. “You could change your pilot name to Sleepy Baby, so you don’t scare the children and all.” 

“Darling, you are the only one I’d let call me ‘baby’.” You laugh at his smooth recovery. “What’s your name, beautiful?” He is charming despite his ego and his intense stare is giving you butterflies. 

“Tic-tac-toe.” 

“Imma call you Hugs and Kisses and you can call me Baby.” You can’t help but laugh at his confidence. 

“So if you are not waiting for anyone why are you always checking on your phone?” The pilot sits down beside you leaning forward again so his knees brush against yours. 

You contemplate your answer before deciding that fuck it, you will be at another bar next week and will never see the handsome pilot again so might as well be honest. “My therapist has suggested that I should ‘socialize with adults that are not coworkers or the children I work with.’” You explain. “So one hour a week I must socialize.” You wave your hand vaguely at the bar. 

“Are you one of those teachers banning hangman?” He asks in mock outrage, graciously glossing over most of your explanation. 

“Child Activity Coordinator at a local library actually, but yeah I’ve been know to play a few rounds of Sleepy Baby.” You say with a shrug.“ Some parents get upset at certain things and it’s easier just to avoid it than die on the hill of hangman. Plus there was one little boy who would cry when the man was hung so it was best to avoid the tears.”

“He would cry every time?” The green eyed pilot has a fond smile on his face. 

You nodded. “I mean the same kid also cried when someone stole his imaginary kitten so some things can’t be helped but sometimes it’s just easier to avoid it.” You said with a grin remembering the moment. 

“It’s hard to believe we live in a world where imaginary kittens aren’t even safe.” He shakes his head solemnly and you burst out laughing. The unexpected arrival of the cocky pilot has been a delightful addition to your evening. 

“So one hour a week?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “How much time do I have left?”

You check your phone, “you have 17 minutes, Flyboy.” You grin. “So what made you join the AirForce?”

He looks offended. “Darling, I'm a Naval Aviator.” 

You blink blankly at him. “I was genuinely not aware the Navy had pilots.” 

“The navy has aircraft carriers,” he grins “who do you think flies the planes?”

“Honestly, I never thought about it and I think I just assumed it was a Navy / Air Force cooperation situation.” You trail off still thinking before shrugging. “I guess you learn something new every day.”

“I could teach you something else,” he sends you a flirty wink.

“I think I’ve reached my knowledge quota for the day,” you laugh back. “But what did you learn today?”

“That my call sign breaks the heart of little boys and their stolen imaginary kittens, and I could use a therapist that suggests going to a bar.”

“Good news Sleepy Baby, I don't think you needed the help to make it here.”

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket notifying you that your hour is up and a not so small part of you is disappointed. You pull your phone out and hold up the timer to the pilot in front of you. “That’s time.”

“Can I get your number?” He asks hopefully as you gather your purse and finish your drink. “We could spend the full hour together next time, therapists advice on socializing and all.”

“I’ll pass this time, but next time, who knows?” You say as you stand, feeling a little sad that you will never see him again. 

“As long as you remember, Hugs and Kisses, I’m in the Navy.” 

You look up at him grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll remember.” 

As you leave you walk by the jukebox glancing down and see the perfect song on the track lists. You hit the number grinning to yourself as you walk to the door. 

When you reach the exit you turn around and find the green eyed pilot has made his way back to some others in uniforms at the pool table. “Hey Baby,” you call out over the noise of the bar. You grin when he looks up eagerly as the Village People begins to play over the jukebox. “This song’s for you!”  You shoot him a mock salute as you walk out the door. 

[highinmiamiii]

MONEY POWER GLORY

club owner!joe kessler x exotic dancer

A/N: this piece goes hand in hand with @billybutcherxyou / @foxiewrites and I’s DBF!Butcher series. best to be read alongside their most recent post, so make sure to check that out first. (cw: themes of manipulation, power dynamics, implied threats, and mentions of the adult entertainment industry.) NO USE OF Y/N

summary: Kessler, the sleazy owner of Club Kess, where petal works, dangles promises of fame and fortune, but his intentions are far from pure. Highlighting petal’s willingness to play his game, even as she’s fully aware of the dangers that come with it.

—————

She walks into the dimly lit office at the back of the club, the heavy bass from the music outside thrumming through the walls. Kessler, the club’s owner, sits behind an oversized mahogany desk, a fine Cuban cigar smoldering between his fingers. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and the faint tang of his expensive cologne. His eyes, sharp and calculating, follow her as she approaches, amusement flickering in them.

“Ah, there she is,” Kessler purrs, his voice smooth like honey with an underlying edge that makes your skin crawl if you listen too closely. He leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gestures for her to sit. “My favorite girl.”

She offers him a small, confident smile, though there’s a tightness in her chest she can’t quite shake. She’s been working for him for some time now, just barely making enough to have a little extra cash after repaying her father’s debts and getting out of every negative situation. Billy still couldn’t seem to get off her ass. She’s good at what she does, and she’s determined to be more than just another one of Kessler’s showgirls.

Once she had even the slightest taste of financial freedom to splurge on a cute top or take herself out to lunch somewhere nice, she’d never go back to her old life. Her life had been full of losses, wins, failures, and falls.

Kessler’s gaze never wavers as she takes her seat across from him, the leather chair creaking slightly under her weight. He exhales a long plume of smoke, watching her with that same calculated amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“I’ve been watching you,” Kessler continues, his eyes narrowing as he takes a drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his face like a serpent. “You’ve got something… special. A spark, if you will.”

“You’ve been doing good work, sweetheart,” he says, the endearment slipping from his lips like it’s second nature. His voice carries a certain weight, commanding attention, respect, and maybe even a little fear. “Better than most of the girls who walk through that door.”

Her smile widens just a fraction; the words hit their mark. She’s been craving validation like this—something to tell her that all the hours, the effort, the sacrifices are worth it. The faint praise settles into her bones, stoking the fire she keeps burning inside.

“Well, I aim to please,” she replies smoothly, her voice laced with just the right amount of sultriness. She knows how to play her part, knows what Kessler wants to hear. And she’s more than willing to give it to him if it means getting what she wants in return.

Kessler’s smirk deepens, his eyes glittering with something dark, something dangerous. “That’s why you’re my favorite, baby,” he purrs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You’ve got the looks, the talent, the drive. Everything a girl needs to make it big. And I’m gonna make sure you do.”

She feels a thrill of anticipation run through her at his words. She’s been chasing this dream for as long as she can remember—the idea of being more than just another face in the crowd, of standing out, of having everything she’s ever wanted. Money, power, glory. The trifecta that’s kept her going through every hardship, every setback.

“A-anything, Mr. Kessler,” she says, her voice almost a whisper, leaning in slightly as if she’s afraid to miss a single word. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Kessler’s smile is almost fatherly as he leans back in his chair, taking another drag from his cigar. He likes this part—the moment they’re fully under his spell, ready to do whatever it takes to make his promises come true. He’s seen it a hundred times before, but there’s something about her that makes it all the more satisfying.

“It’s simple, really,” he says, his tone almost conspiratorial. “You just keep doing what you’re doing, baby—keep turning heads, keep bringing in the crowds. Make them want more of you, make them crave you. And when the time is right, when you’re ready, we’ll take that next step.”

He pauses, letting the words sink in, watching as her eyes widen just a fraction, her breath catching slightly in her throat. He’s got her, and he knows it.

“What next step?” she asks, her voice hushed, almost afraid of the answer.

Kessler’s smirk returns, sharper this time. “Movies, baby. Real stardom. You’ve got a face for the camera, and I’m gonna make sure you get there. But you have to trust me, follow my lead. Do that, and you’ll have everything that pretty little heart o’ yours desires.”

She bites her lower lip, a move she knows he finds irresistible, playing into the moment. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear—the promise of something more, something bigger than the life she’s been living. Dealing with her asshole of a father and his gambling debts, instead of living the life of a normal girl her age, she was working the pole at Club Kess. She’s come too far to turn back now, and Kessler knows that. He’s got her wrapped around his finger, and she can’t even bring herself to care.

“I trust you,” she says, the words coming out easily, as if they were always meant to be spoken. “I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she adds cheekily.

Kessler chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down her spine. He reaches out, brushing a thumb across her cheek, the touch as possessive as it is comforting.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Stick with me, baby, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows your name.”

She feels her heart pound with a mix of fear and excitement. She’s heard the rumors, knows what happens to the girls who fall out of Kessler’s favor, but she’s convinced it won’t happen to her. She’s different. She has to be.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You want more than just the dance floor. You want to be a star.”

The word hangs in the air between them, heavy with unspoken promises. She can feel the pull, the allure of everything she’s ever wanted, dangling just out of reach. But there’s a part of her, the smart part, that knows there’s always a catch when someone like Kessler is involved.

“I do,” she admits, keeping her voice soft, almost vulnerable, knowing that’s what he’s looking for. “But I know it’s not easy. I’m willing to work for it.”

Kessler’s grin widens, and for a moment, she can see the wolf behind the businessman. “That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart,” he says, his tone oozing with false sincerity. “You’re different. I see big things in your future. Movies, magazine covers, hell, maybe even your own show one day.”

The flattery is relentless, and she finds herself nodding along, even as a small voice in the back of her mind tells her not to fall for it. But it’s hard not to, especially when he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

The words are intoxicating, and for a moment, she lets herself believe them. But then Kessler’s gaze hardens, just for a split second, and she catches a glimpse of the man behind the mask—the one who’s willing to destroy anyone who doesn’t play by his rules.

“But remember,” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more menacing, “this business is tough. It chews up the weak and spits them out. You keep up your end of the bargain, and I’ll keep up mine. But cross me… and, well, I’m sure you know what happens to girls who get on my bad side.”

She forces herself to smile, to play along with his game. “I won’t disappoint you, I promise,” she says, her voice smooth as silk, hiding the unease coiling in her gut.

“Good girl,” he replies, the smirk returning as he leans back in his chair, satisfied. “Now, go out there and show them what you’re made of. Got big plans for you.”

She nods, offering him one last smile before she turns.

As she’s about to leave, Kessler’s voice cuts through the lingering haze of cigar smoke. “Actually—hold on a sec, baby,” he drawls, his tone smooth but with an edge that halts her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

Kessler reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out an old Polaroid camera, the kind that spits out instant photos with a soft mechanical whirr. He holds it up, a sly grin spreading across his face. “One more thing before you go. Gotta get a picture to go with the others, yeah? Keeps things personal, keeps us close.”

She hesitates for a moment, feeling a strange twist in her gut. This wasn’t part of the usual routine, but then again, Kessler always liked to blur the lines. “A Polaroid?” she asks, forcing a light tone, though she can’t keep the edge of suspicion out of her voice.

Kessler chuckles, but it’s a low, menacing sound that sends a shiver down her spine. “Just for the collection,” he says, as if that explains everything. “A little keepsake for me. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

The unease deepens, but she can see the challenge in his eyes, the unspoken command. He wants her to trust him, to play along. And if she refuses, if she makes a scene, she knows what that might mean for her future here.

So, she swallows her discomfort and flashes him her best smile, the one she reserves for customers she’s trying to impress. “Of course, Mr. Kessler,” she says sweetly, stepping closer to the desk.

Kessler’s grin widens as he raises the camera, the lens glinting in the dim light. “Say cheese, darling.”

She hears the click, followed by the whir of the camera spitting out the photo. Kessler catches it before it hits the desk, holding it by the edges as the image slowly develops.

She forces herself to stay calm, to keep that practiced smile in place, even as Kessler’s gaze flicks between her and the photo with a predatory glint. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, more to himself than to her, before he slips the photo into his desk drawer, locking it away.

“Alright, baby,” he says, his tone returning to that of the smooth-talking club owner. “You go on now. Remember, I’m watching.”

She nods, mutters a soft “thank you,” and finally makes her exit, feeling the weight of his gaze on her until she’s out the door. As she steps back into the dimly lit hallway, the thumping bass from the club outside washing over her like a wave, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just crossed some invisible line, one she might not be able to step back from.

But she pushes the thought aside. This is what she wanted—what she needed. If playing Kessler’s game was the price she had to pay for her shot at fame and fortune, then so be it. She’d play, and she’d win.

Because she knew one thing for sure: in this world, you either play the game or get played. And she wasn’t about to let herself become just another one of Kessler’s pawns.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Ensemble Cast

pairing: Platonic! Task Force 141 (+ Alejandro & Rodolfo) x GN! Reader

words: 660

Summary: Hours into a stakeout, your boredom leads you to ask the everyone the classic hypothetical question, “If they were to make a movie about us, what actor would you want to play you?”

warnings: Lots of fluff and dialogue, found family trope, mentions of injuries, and an implication of angst.

a/n: MW2 is the ultimate found family story, change my mind.

Running your fingers along the edge of the map, your watch caught your eye. 5:14am, the bold digital numerals taunted. you pushed back from the table and made your way across the small room. You quickly scanned for an open spot to sit before finding one along the wall. Settling in with the group, you fought the urge to sigh. Stakeouts, while typically easy work, were never something you particularly enjoyed. A welcome break from the firefight you had been active in the past few weeks, yes, but nonetheless almost entirely boring.

You had been with them for what felt like forever and had long considered the group more like a band of brothers than a task force. Yet even the closest groups of people are bound to experience a lapse in conversation when stuck in a room together for hours on end. Unsurprisingly, a hush had fallen over most of the group more than a few hours ago. Like Ghost, you were more than comfortable with a bit of silence. But as the ninth hour of the stakeout came to a close, you couldn’t help but ignore your growing itch for conversation.

“If they were to make a movie about us, what actor would you want to play you?”

The question escaped you almost absentmindedly. The result of your brain slipping into semi-auto pilot. The words simultaneously cut Soap’s quiet one-sided ramblings short and introduced a bit of spirit and levity to everyone. You felt the room fall into a moment of quiet consideration, as the men began using the same war strategist intensity that was hard wired into their brains to figure out what Hollywood star they felt was most like themselves. Hypotheticals were a more than welcome break from going over the intel for the umpteenth time, or worse, being forced to listen to the vocalization of whatever popped into Soap’s mind.

With a groan, Captain price shifted his position in the stiff plastic chair he occupied. Trading his relaxed posture for sitting at attention in anticipation of everyone’s answer. A few moments passed before he spoke up. “Easy. Hugh Grant.” He started before taking a dramatic drag from his cigar. “A classic British gentleman after my own heart.”. Even through the darkness, you could see the playful glint in his eye. Price’s answer earned a range of amusement from the group and a full-bodied laugh from soap. “I’d want either James Mcavoy or… that guy from Game of Thrones.” Soap grinned. “Jon Snow!” Gaz snorted. “For me..” He started ”I know he’s not an actor, but I’ve been mistaken for Lewis Hamilton once or twice before, so probably him. What about you, Alejandro?” “I’d play myself. Why hire an actor when you can have the real thing?” Alejandro chimed in. “¿Y usted?” Alejandro said, elbowing Rodolfo. “No estoy seguro… ¿Maybe Mario Lopez?” “¡Vaya! Looks like Rudy’s feeling confident!” Alejandro chuckled, earning a smile and a slightly bashful look from Rudy. “What about you, LT?” Simon simply shrugged. Clearly not impressed by the current conversation. “Well. we could always dress up one of those twelve foot skeleton decorations and have you do the voiceover.” Soap snickered.

A moment passed before everyone, Simon included, burst into laughter.

Seeing everyone fall apart to such a dumb joke left you giggling right along with them, almost unable to contain yourself.

For years you found it strange how much joy you felt in moments like this—sitting in a dark and musty shack, laughing and cracking jokes alongside your rag tag group of soldiers. Yet you couldn't ignore how these moments brought up a near forgotten sensation; a syrupy sweetness in your chest. A feeling synonymous with those of love and what it meant to finally belong somewhere. The feeling of finally finding a family. Because what is a family, if not a cast of characters - often beaten, more than a little broken, and almost always bloody - who still choose to form glimmers of light in a world of dark?

[therealhousewifeofharrystyles]

Harry’s Home

Part III.

Read Part 1 Here!

Read Part 2 Here!

Pairing/AU: Roommate!Harry // Roommate!Y/N

Word Count: ~ 4k words

⚠️ Content Warnings: Adult Language, Pining, Sexual Desire, References to Body Weight (“Chubby” Reader), Fantasies of Rough Sex, Breeding Fantasies, Exhibitionism, Explicit Depictions of Masturbation(M&F), Dirty Talk, ~Slow Burn~

So, yeah. Harry and I have successfully become somewhat close. We’ve put up with each other’s shit for long enough and eventually bonded—or whatever the hell you call it when a pair of sex-starved adults live in close quarters and they decide to play nice so the walls don’t come down on them.

Even though it’s the time of year when I can see my breath and I have to wear socks to protect my chilly toes when I’m lounging around the house, when I’m around Harry…I might as well be a tea kettle on the verge of squealing in steaming agony. I guess you could say I’ve been in heat.

I’m catching myself spacing all the time, hypnotized by his comfortable routine. He grasps my attention like it’s second-nature to him, and I have no other choice but to relent—to surrender. How fucking pathetic is that? Like, get a grip, woman. 

But seriously, I can’t take it anymore. I turn powerless and my body betrays me, simply from the man meeting my eyes with his from across the room. For someone to hold this much control over another human being by just existing…not only is it completely unfair, but it feels otherworldly. It’s as though a connection has been birthed out of the rawest, most sinful form of lust, with its sole purpose to fuse a pair of unwed and horny humans. Thus latching itself onto the two of us, melding an incubus with a siren.

I guess it could just be some crazy-intense sexual tension, too. There’s no fun in that explanation, but whatever. The point is that I can’t fucking take it anymore.  Me being so mesmerized by him performing the most mundane of tasks—unscrewing a new jar of jam, rubbing the sleep out of his face as he stumbles out of his bedroom, sneaking little peeks at me from across the room and smirking to himself after he looks away. God. That smirk keeps me up at night…my hands groping myself and massaging my clit to lull myself to dreamland.

Right…so about that…

For the past few months, Harry’s been able to hear me fucking myself through the thin wall that separates our two bedrooms. The divider does absolutely nothing to silence me and my explicit acts of self-pleasure. These walls couldn’t muffle a mouse, let alone an ambitiously horny, and impressively vocal young woman who’s desperate to get her rocks off…hard. 

And I’m certain he can hear everything—every gasp, every whine, every slick plunge of my fingers—or a toy—as they’re used in a merciless attack on my own body in order to chase an unattainable high…It's loud. It’s filthy. 

It’s pornographic.

And yet Harry indulges in my songs. I know he does. The only way I’m able to get myself off is to picture him on the other side…to close my eyes and astral-project my way into his room and assume the role of the voyeur…as the exhibitionist. I’m a walking oxymoron.

I imagine my waves of ecstasy seeping through the walls to awaken his neglected cock in his tight briefs.

I think to myself, 

…I bet he’s wondering whether or not I'm messing with him...if I know he’s listening to me…and if, perhaps, I want him to listen…

If only I were just playing a sick game of tease…Such a possibility would be utterly humiliating for Harry. He loathes feeling like his control is in the hands of another. Said power landing in my hands? Oh…No, no, no. Lest we forget the towel incident? Don’t let the sensitive late-night talks, the apology hugs, or the sleepy cuddles fool you; a switch, Harry is not. Not that he’s told me or anything, but it’s a feeling. When he drags his eyes down to slowly assess me…there isn’t a doubt in my mind that he’s in charge.

He has a limited threshold for teasing and babying, which is precisely why he shooed his own mother out the door after a mere 5 minutes of her jests. Harry spent his entire life as the baby. I sense he’s needed a release for quite some time…and it probably doesn’t help matters that my playful antics are sure-fire triggers for his dark dominance to take over. I think he’s struggled to find the right mate to unleash that part of himself with. At least completely, that is. And I hope I’ve been pressing just the right buttons to experience it all for myself. 

But yes, I’ve been fucking myself with lotsa gusto knowing he’s in close earshot of the action. Hopefully, he’s come to successfully make sense of some of my muffled ramblings beyond his wall as, “Yes, Daddy!” as well as the occasional gasp or moan of “Harry.” What? I like it…

Although I’d love to exacerbate the narrative that this has all just been a cruel game started by yours truly—a game that I’m winning, to be clear—I'm actually not messing with him. This had begun purely by accident, and now I'm just continuing to provide some adult entertainment for my, uh...housemate and…good friend. 

Before you scold me for being a perv, let me just finish explaining the situation. Because if Harry had a problem with something I did, he’d tell me. And he never complained about this. Never. 

Quite the opposite, actually.

The first time I did my private deeds with Harry eavesdropping in the next room, I'd initially felt horribly embarrassed. I hadn't realized how shameless I was, or how loud and desperate the noises were as they came out of me. Once I finally caught myself, it was like space and time had spun to a stop, and I was painfully aware of my raw indecency.

I wasn’t watching porn, reading erotica, or listening to naughty audio recordings. Nope. Only my lustful thoughts fueled the eagerness in my fingers as they played with my pussy. I’d also been blatantly inconsiderate of Harry and his right to privacy whilst they did. I felt dirty. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Pfft, I was hardly thinking of anything. It reminded me of the time just before we moved into this house…when I lurked on his social media pages for the images of his slick, half-naked body which burned themselves into my memory, all just to use him for my own personal, sick, sexual gratification.  

And there I was again—now cohabiting a space with the very inspiration for my filth and frustration—lying comfortably atop a spacious, girly pink towel to protect my bed linens from succumbing to my wetness. My knees were spread apart and my dripping cunt was on full display for my closed door across the room. If anyone walked in, they'd unknowingly be entering what many theme parks tend to call a “splash zone.” 

Luckily, Harry was in the living room watching some melodramatic video essay on YouTube…Or at least that’s where I’d left him before ending up in the not-so-innocent position atop my mattress.

I hadn’t thought about the fact that the house wasn’t empty until I heard my own whiny sighs combined with unmistakable slippery pussy-rubbing echoing throughout the room. My cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink once I’d realized the extent of my elevated volume. There was no way Harry couldn’t have heard all that. And I had no idea how long I’d been up to it, or for how long at that high of a frequency.

The click of a door closing nearby interrupted my nervous internal monologue—Harry’s door. He was mere meters away from my partially-nude body, but my private quarters kept me safe from any judging eyes. The wall our bedrooms shared stood as the only barricade between our two bodies. For a while, I dismissed my initial self-awareness and I slowly, and carefully, swirled my drenched fingertips over my clit. More of my liquid arousal coated my petite hand. For some reason, the idea of Harry walking in on me like that had me feeling hot. Realistically, that would’ve meant immediate, devastating humiliation. Did that mean I was into that? I’d say yes judging by the way I was pulsing around nothing whilst staring at my door, picturing the man himself standing there smirking at me…tilting his head and patronizing me. 

…Aw, would you look at tha’…Does that feel good, Sweet Bunny? 

“Mmhmm.” I found myself nodding with a sigh, my eyes relaxed and veiled. My mind refused to backtrack, and instead doubled-down. I probably should have stopped myself right there, but fuck, could self-sabotage feel good.

My brain directed me towards thinking about how pretty and sweet I was on the outside. My body, soft, and my features, so delicate, but so grabbable. Every part of me had an ample amount of plushness to squeeze. To manhandle. My tiny wrists and my elegant neck, the perfect size for a pair of big hands to wrap around. I bit my rosy lip on a whine, then brought my thumb up to rub and tease it before sucking on it. The sinful acts my mouth performed were a secret I kept with the few lucky men who’d experienced it for themselves. I wanted so badly to share that with Harry…I wanted to share all of myself with him. 

“Mmm…Harry.” I moaned aloud, releasing my wet thumb and sneaking it under my shirt, swiping the slick pad back and forth over my sensitive tit.

It was hard for me not to think about Harry whenever I touched myself. I thought about his fingers playing with my hair, him burying his face into my neck the times we cuddled…feeling his hard-on against my ass on the couch…the times when he’d hugged me…and catching his gaze drift down to my tits…I bet he’d thought I’d never notice, even after having done it multiple times in a single conversation. Hmm…was Harry Styles an ass man or a tit man? Or was he something else…? He certainly liked looking at my boobs…and I'm able to confirm that his body has a very positive reaction to pressing up against my butt…

Honestly, I didn’t even care what parts of the body Harry liked the most. All I cared about was how badly I wanted to feel him use mine. I wrapped my small hand around my throat and arched my back up off of the mattress, gasping as I mindlessly pushed two hooked fingers inside my tight opening, picturing a certain tall, curly-headed British man molesting me instead. The sound of my own moans enhanced my pleasure as I rode myself towards peak bliss. My modesty had become non-existent as my hands worked each sensitive spot between my legs and teased at my pebbled nipples. A part of me needed him to hear me that night. I was getting off on that taboo. But that’s all it was…my imagination. 

It was just a silly little fantasy. Harmless exhibitionism. I wasn’t actually being that loud…—but that’s when I suddenly heard more feedback beyond the wall. It’d been some time since I’d heard the door click shut. My personal distractions got in the way of keeping track of time. 

There was an urgent fumbling. A repetitive clinking. The sound resembled a bit of metal hitting other metal. But it was light. Small. Following that, I heard a rough yank and a soft plop as whatever the item was had dropped heavily onto the carpeted floor. An unmistakable hum of a zipper quickly came subsequent to the discarding of the first mystery item—but it was no longer a mystery to me as my sex-clouded mind pieced together what I was hearing. The hands nestled between my thighs slowed at the realization.

Well, Harry’s just changing into his pajamas for the night, right?

My audible x-rated activities bouncing off the walls for several minutes whilst my roommate innocently removed his pants next door…maybe I was overthinking this…I remembered calling out our "goodnight"'s to each other around 10 minutes before I slipped out of my panties and began to shamelessly pleasure myself. He was still in his business-y work clothes when I left him in the living room…and I knew I just heard his bedroom door click shut in the middle of my alone time. And at that point, Harry was right there. He was just trying to unwind, yet happened to be in the room adjacent to mine. It was probably too awkward for him to ask for me to quiet down. 

Poor guy…ugh. I was disgusted with myself. I felt I needed to end my “session” right there, and

I was mentally preparing a nice apology text to send him. There was no way in hell I'd bring this up in person to Harry the following day. Surely I’d be in tears before I could even form the right words. I didn’t even want to imagine the scenario of Harry, himself, mentioning it to my face. Every possible, horrible consequence of my selfishly lewd deeds played out in my mind. There I was, lying there with my knees bent up and spread wide open—my fingers frozen against where I'm most sensitive. The silence made the throbbing in my clit feel even more desperate. 

And then Harry flicked his white-noise machine on.

Oh, God…This was so embarrassing.

I wanted to sink into a black hole and never be seen, nor heard, ever again. The severity of the situation felt devastating to me. Was I truly so grotesque that the beautiful man I lived with had to tune me out with the highest setting of his old, rattly sleep machine?!

Hell, I was more than embarrassed, I was fucking humiliated. For real, this time. And it was all my fault.

I just wanted to disappear.

But just as I was readying myself to book a flight back home to move back in with my parents to spare myself from ever having to look Harry in the eye again…

I heard it. 

I heard him.

“…Mmmhh…”

Beyond the hum of the wimpy white noise, there was a raspy moan on the other side of the wall. I thought I was just imagining it, or that maybe it was Harry quietly retching in disgust, but then it happened again. 

No, yeah. It was definitely a moan.

I held my breath as I focused upon the sound of an abrupt curse followed by the distinctive sound of spitting. 

“...Ahhh, fuck—” 

*ptuh* 

The grunting and other lewd noises continued. I could only imagine Harry’s tightened fist, wet from his own drool, working diligently at his neglected cock.

“...Mm…h-hm…ugghhh…”

It seemed like Harry's white-noise machine had some impressive competition. My lips curved into a smirk and my embarrassment exponentially subsided.

His growls vibrated right through the layers of paint and drywall—sliding their way under my shirt, swirling around my perked nipples before bolting straight down to my fingertips, coaxing them to push deeper into my heat. Squeezing my thighs together and arching my back, I curled those digits and gasped out audibly. Feminine arousal leaked from my center and down the crease where my ass met my thighs. Everything was so slippery. I’d made a mess of myself within seconds. Not to mention, the pornographic squelch of my fingers echoed shamelessly beyond the slick walls of my cunt.

If Harry’s spit-covered palm was loud enough to hear over the white noise, then I knew the splashy reservoir between my legs was audible too.

Another series of grunts and huffs sounded beyond the wall behind me and the white noise machine was switched off. I retracted my fingers and slid them up and down my slit, teasing myself and picturing Harry rubbing the head of his dick along my entrance. My brow pinched hedonistic agony. Oh, God, did I want him inside me…I needed something…anything…

With my less-saturated hand, I reached over to open my bedside drawer and lifted the lower compartment to retrieve the silk satchel that encased my dildo. My sticky-slick fingers fumbled impatiently with the ties until the toy comically launched out of the bag and bounced itself smack down onto the inside of my splayed thigh. I could just picture Harry laughing at my lack of grace even though he was busy with his own deeds next door. The thought of Harry teasing me about the dildo made me blush a bit, and I smiled to myself, imagining his hand reaching out to brush my hair out of my face, his pupils dilating as he’d sit on his knees next to the bed and lean over me until his lips grazed my ear…

Be a good girl and show me what filthy things you do with this, Bunny…Show me where it goes…Show me how you fuck yourself…

I hadn’t realized I’d done it again. I’d gotten lost in that depraved little world of mine, and I whimpered aloud in response to the Imaginary Harry who was speaking in my fantasy, “Y-you want me to fuck my pussy for you, Daddy?” Maybe it was the Imaginary Harry again, but I could’ve sworn that I heard a silky British voice nearby react, “Goddd…dammit, Bun’…Ugh, fuuuck, yes. Fuck that sweet little pussy f’me, baby, holy shit…”

Laying back down, I brought the silicone cock up to my lips and sucked it into my mouth. I slowly bobbed my head on it and soaked it with my saliva after deepthroating it several times. The sloppy blowjob I gave to my dildo seemed to have been loud enough to be heard by Harry next door, as he voiced out, “Oh my god, Y/N…I wanna fuck that pretty mouth.”

I pulled it away from my tongue, a string of drool dripping from the tip, and rubbed the head of the toy against my sensitive clit whilst I responded, bringing me right back to where I needed to be. 

“Mmhh, but you can’t put a baby in me that way, Daddy.”

My own eyes widened and I gasped. I couldn’t believe I’d actually fucking said that.

“Shit! Ughh…Ahh…Ughhhh…Fuck you, Bunny…Almost made me…c-come…Christ—Ohhh, fuck me…”

With my free hand, I sucked on my index finger and let my eyes flutter closed as I pulled it out from my lips, trailing it down my neck, all the way to my breasts. Groping myself as best as I could with the rest of my hand, I used my forefinger to tease my nipple whilst the dildo swirled and swiped around my slickened slit. My breathing picked up quickly. The dildo had eventually disappeared inside my clenching hole. The only audible sounds I remember hearing were those of my own—my high-pitched gasps, the pornographic swishing and squelching of the dildo fucking my drenched cunt, the wet flicking noises of my fingers moving rapidly against my clit…I don’t even remember how loud Harry was at that point, I was too focused on my fantasy—my fantasy with him—to notice. I was so focused, in fact, that I had once again lost all sense of self-control and consciousness, succumbing to whatever had come naturally to me at the time and practically singing out my song of ecstasy for the whole goddamn neighborhood.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…Harry, please. I need your cum…Oh, god, please come inside me. Fuck all your cum d-dee–oh g…–ah! Yes! Yes! Don’t stop!”

As I begged for my climax, Harry seemed to have been on the edge of his orgasm as well.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna kill me, Y/N…You want me to fill you up? Be my little breeding bunny? God…You dirty girl…Fuuuck…oh fuck, I’m gonna come…”

“Yes! Yes, Daddy! I can take it! Please! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Aaahhh!”

I unraveled with a squeak followed by a series of breathless sobs, my hands, wrists, and arms working frantically and my eyes rolled back whilst the kaleidoscope of pleasure poured through my body. Immediately after my explosion, I collapsed like a ragdoll with the dildo slowly pushing out of me, and my fingers slipping around on my clit to prolong my high. As my breathing recovered, I listened to the tail-end of the orgasm taking place from Harry’s side of the wall.

“Holy shit…Fucking take all of it f’me, babe—ohhhh, yeah…uhh-uuggh…mmhh…hm…Damnit…’So much…I wish all this was inside you, Bunny…fucking hell…”

I’d slept like a rock once I finally passed out. I wasn’t even worried about what would come the next morning. Nah, I had the upper hand on this one for once. As a bratty submissive, I’d gotten used to being teased and controlled. What an interesting feeling to exist on the other side. God, it felt fucking fantastic. Unfortunately for Harry, he wasn’t as confident…or at least that was what I’d been able to interpret in the days following. Nights after the first one, I’d carry on fucking my cunt until I was physically too exhausted to move my pretty little hands anymore. I swear I’d heard Harry finish at least thrice in one night once. (Impressive, Styles.) As for myself…well, I usually lost count.

That first morning, I awoke with sore arms, a rogue dildo laying on the floor, my limbs tangled inside my sheets, yet a ridiculous smile was perma-glued onto my sleepy, orgasm-spent face. I tried my best to tone it down, as I didn’t want to prance around the house like I’d just risen from a deep sleep induced by a gazillion-and-one pulsating firecrackers of pleasure. Too obvious, you know? Had to act nonchalant. Unbothered. 

Who was I kidding—I was the most chalant person I knew. Harry would see right through that charade. But there honestly wasn’t much need for pretending on my part since Harry had actively avoided any and all eye contact with me anyway. I’d never seen the man be so meek. It was truly a sight. 

Things would eventually loosen up as the days progressed, especially if it was a work day which meant Harry had an excuse to be miles away from me for several hours. It was somewhat of a bummer because I thoroughly enjoyed this sampling of power I newly held over the man. I reveled in the way our typical roles would reverse the mornings after our little bedtime serenades. They weren’t a nightly occurrence, as I preferred to keep him on his toes; however, they’d happen often enough that I tended to daydream in the middle of my work meetings. I’d even begun to retreat to my bedroom an hour or so earlier in the evenings, giving Harry some lame excuse like tiredness or a headache. In reality, it was me signaling that I needed to get myself off sooner rather than later. Whenever I’d announce my departure, I could feel how much he’d been aching for it all day, too. Harry eventually utilized the same approach to speed up the fulfillment of his own needs. I’d changed up my tempo, my method of pleasure, the filth of my words, even my own positions whilst touching myself. It seemed like it had become almost like a routine for him to wait for me to fall into bed late in the evening. (Yet another one for me to be distracted by…) 

Nothing’s changed. I still imagine that he patiently lays atop his soft duvet with an anxious throb booming against his eardrums…That minutes will go by with him training his ear to follow each soft pad of my feet. And then I shut my door. I waste no time before diving my pretty fingers inside the waistband of my underwear and playing with my sensitive little petal—allowing all the filth to freely escape my lips. And every single time we do this, I’m in my room picturing him naked from the waist down, one hand eagerly pumping his dripping length whilst the other massages his balls and perineum. To this day, the waves of simultaneous pleasure are still trapped only by the few measly layers of drywall that stand in between us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know, I know…it’s been a while…but I’m back:-) and this isn’t the end of Harry’s Home—the final part is basically finished, but I wanted to post this chunk of it since I’d been kind of neglecting my account for months now. I hope y’all like it! Xoxo ~ Régan 💋

Tags: @daphnesutton @victoria-styles @pishhhh20989 @heyyyloverr @youdontcaredoyou @jerseygirlinca

[impishjesters]

Little Thoughts

warning(s): suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideations, child neglect, child abuse, suicidal thoughts of a child, abuse, financial abuse, hurt/comfort(?), mentioned manipulation, casual talk about death/dying, pre-relationship, uncertain reactions (basically Jax nor you really know how to go about the situation), implied crush (both ways) A/N: This was written for myself, read it or don't, I don't care. I just wanted validation and acceptance from somewhere, even if it's fictional...

“Do you ever just wish you were dead?”

Jax slowed his oncoming approach towards you, blinking in confusion. “What happened to, hi? Hello? How are you?” He heard you scoff and crossed his arms loosely in thought. Sure, he was used to hearing some pretty questionable things from you, but you’d never flat out ask him—or anyone else for that matter—if they wanted to be dead.

“Well?”

“Uh, can’t say I do. Sure, this place sucks but think of all the entertainment I’d miss out on if I was, ya know—” he swiped his thumb across his neck and made a noise, “—dead.”

“You’ve been here longer. Aren’t you tired?”

What was this? Morbid fifty questions?

“You doin’ alright there sugar?” Jax circled around you, allowing you to see him long before he approached you taking a seat beside you. “I know you usually say some pretty…intense shit, but this is a little too intense even for you.”

You shot him a blank stare. Huh, you did say some pretty out-of-pocket stuff when it came to the dark subject—but to ask him flat out if he ever wanted to just be dead? That was new, but it was a valid question in your mind.

How could they choose to suffer instead of just dying?

“This isn’t anything new… I’m not like you guys. I haven’t been here for years on end gradually going mad.”

“Hey, rude. I’m not nearly as bonkers as Rags or King-face.”

He got a playful eye roll from you and that was more than enough of a win for his little joke. Sure it was a serious topic but he didn’t do so well during talks like this.

“I’ve always been like this… for as long as I can remember, as a child I thought it’d just be better if I was dead. That way my family could stop fighting, and I could stop being the rag doll in their arguments.”

As you spoke the grin that was glued to his face started to fall, slipping bit by bit until his lips ran flat. What child wants to kill themselves? He remembers his childhood not being the greatest but he never thought about death, that’s for sure.

“We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, they’d spend it on unnecessary stuff and worry about food and bills later until years of it caught up and put them in a bind.” Your gaze fell to your hands, fingers picking and peeling at the flesh. “Most would say I was a very spoiled kid, I always got toys and the holidays were jam-packed with even more unnecessary toys for a growing child to outgrow.”

He had a feeling he knew where this was going…

“But I didn’t want that, I didn’t want all those toys. Expensive or cheap, I never asked for any of them. If my eyes made contact with something and lingered just a second too long they’d buy it for me.” You sighed, looking up at Jax. “All I wanted was my family to give me the time of day, to play with me. To love me.”

“Fuck, I’m..” he hesitated, saying sorry felt pointless, that was ages ago and he wasn’t there. He wasn’t at fault but he couldn’t even imagine that—his own parents argued but they kept him out of it.

“It’s fine you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

He shuffled in place awkwardly, how are you supposed to respond to that? Luckily he doesn’t need to because you are already looking away and took a deep breath before continuing.

“It never got better, toys became electronics and games. Because of my family, I didn’t get to socialize growing up and I’d be quiet and withdrawn at school. The older I got the more vocal they started to get about me, even though they didn’t want me they kept me chained down and limited my ability to fight them.”

“What they lock ya up or somethin’?”

“They didn’t need to, I had no reason to leave the house. I didn’t have friends, we didn’t have stores or anything fun to do that wasn’t an hour’s drive away.” He hates the way you laugh so casually about it. “No, they’d limit any money I’d receive making sure I’d spend it instead of save it. I used to think it was their way of trying to make sure I wouldn’t run away, but even if I didn’t have savings that wouldn’t have stopped me from leaving with nothing but the clothes on my back.”

“Why didn’t ya?”

“I was a coward.”

Jax snorted and caught your attention. “You were a child, not a coward.”

“Whatever, pointless to think about it now. Did me fat lotta good in the end anyways, here I am trapped in this hell hole where the closest thing to death is abstracting.” A dry laugh left you at the irony. “I can’t even fucking off myself properly.”

The two of you simply sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of you seemingly aware of how to continue the conversation. There was no reason to give Jax the whole sob story that didn’t matter anyway, and he couldn’t think of a response.

Sure he wasn’t the greatest at times but he didn’t want you to just…die… but he wasn’t going to try and guilt trip you into living for him. Even if that outcome sounded far better than you dying, he could live with a guilty conscience—probably…

“You don’t have to worry about responding, I sort of just… dropped that all on you. It’s fine, it’s the past.”

“Still doesn’t change that ya still feel like ya should’ve died because your family sucks.” You shot him an unimpressed look and he shrugged. “I’m just sayin’, you were just a kid stuck with a shit family and should’ve been given help a lot sooner.”

“Gee, thanks—”

“I’m not done,” he used your name, no silly or insulting nicknames, “someone should’ve done something, I know people are stupid and think if they just look away it’ll be fine. But someone should’ve stepped in, it’s still abuse, it’s neglect.”

It went unspoken about how you clearly didn’t seek any form of therapy or help as you got older, he already felt like he was pushing it saying what he did.

“Look nothing I say is gonna make ya not wanna pop yourself, but it’s different now. Yeah, ya stuck here but you aren’t alone, and the others like ya.”

“What about you?”

“Me?” he blinked, you weren’t asking him if he…

“Do you like me?”

Jax coughed into his hand, casually turning himself to face the same direction as you. He refused to budge even when you turned yourself to face him, he was not gonna lose his cool.

“Ya alright, better than King-face and Rags that’s for sure.”

His answer pleased you enough to pull back but still face towards him. Occasionally, you’d see him peeking over to see if you were still looking at him until he finally kept his gaze forward.

“Thank you Jax.”

It felt wrong to accept your thanks, he didn’t do anything. But again you responded for him, as if knowing his plight.

“Thank you for sitting here with me, and listening… nobody’s ever listened to me before and not tried to justify what they did like I was the one at fault. You don’t need to feel like you have to have done something to be thanked.”

His shoulders shrugged before relaxing, his gaze that had glued itself to nothing finally turning to you. “Look just, promise me if you get those icky thoughts again you’ll come to me instead of stewing in them okay?” He saw you hesitate and cautiously reached out for your hand. “Promise me.”

You sighed. “Fine, I promise…” Ironically, you didn’t think you could trust anyone but Jax with this sort of information. Personal feelings aside.

“Good, now shut ya face and enjoy my presence and this beautiful moonlight night.” He threw his arm around you and pulled you closer, hand lingering at your side. He was going to make sure not to take advantage of this information, he wanted things to be genuine and not manipulated—as easy as it would be for him.

If the two of you were stuck here he wanted your feelings towards him, and vice versa to be genuine before taking the next step.

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: For jude! What about a one-shot where he likes a girl playing at real madrid women's team 😶‍🌫️ (anonymous - @abiigaiil1234)

Word Count: 477 words

(author's note: i hope you enjoyed this, my darling !! i actually quite enjoy writing for jude, so keep the requests coming in 🫶)

Jude spent most of his time involved in football. Whether he was training, playing games, or simply watching other teams, his life revolved around the game. But now his love for football had merged with his love for a football player.

Y/N L/N was Real Madrid Women’s star striker. With goal involvements in every game she participated in, there wasn’t a single person who didn’t sing her praises.

Jude had heard of her through their coach, who had recommended the team go to one of her games to study her technique. And ever since that game, Jude had been smitten with her.

Y/N already knew who Jude was. Everyone who knew anything about football knew about Jude Bellingham. Her and her teammates often watched him play in the league games, and she thought he was incredible.

People online often shipped the pair, calling them the starboy and stargirl of Madrid. What they didn’t know about, is how close their pair had gotten behind the scenes.

Real Madrid Women had just collected a 3-0 win against Vålerenga Women, with Y/N bagging a hattrick. She walked off the pitch and into the tunnel to Jude, who was waiting for her.

His face broke into a huge smile as soon as he saw her. He ran over to her and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. Jude couldn’t be more proud. 

“Well done, beautiful, you played perfectly!”, Jude exclaimed, stepping back to look Y/N in the eyes.

She smiled back at him, her face flushing pink under the intensity of his gaze. 

“Thank you, Jude. I always play better when you’re watching.”

Jude laughed, “You can’t blame that on me. You play well because you’re immensely talented.”

Now it was her turn to laugh, “That always means so much more coming from you.”

Jude pulled her back into another hug, and the pair stayed wrapped around each other for a while longer.

Jude then took a deep breath. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Y/N. I really have to get it off my chest.”

“Okay, Bellingham, hit me with it.”

“I like you. Like, really like you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I just had to tell you.”

“Jude, you’re either blind, or really stupid.”

Jude was taken aback. “Pardon?”

“I like you too. I have done for pretty much as long as I can remember.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you want to go get something to eat? I’ll pay this time.”

“Definitely. It can be our first meal as a couple.”

Jude’s eyes widened at her confirmation of a relationship that had been a long time in the making. And for the first time, but not the last, the pair left the stadium hand in hand.

[backtothe99]

(18Trip Translation) Tao Kinouchi SSR: Kill Death Happy - Don't underestimate that aim

This translation uses the male protagonist's name (Kaede), but the story doesn't change regardless of the chosen protagonist

Part 1

Location: HAMA House 2F Hallway

Kaede: I’ve been working too much ‘cause the weekend is coming up…

Kaede: (I couldn’t sleep at my usual time and woke up too late…)

Kaede: What should I do today… Ah.

Tao: … If it’s nearby, it’s probably at that place. But to go there at this time…

Kaede: What are you doing, Tao-kun? Research?

Tao: Hey Chief. A new gun game was released today, so I was looking into which stores it’s available at.

Tao: It’s the latest installment in a popular series, so I wanted to line up for it first thing in the morning…

Tao: I overslept because I forgot about it and stayed up playing Anigun with Chihiro.

Tao: Now I’m super late. All the stores are crowded, and I probably won’t be able to play it today.

Kaede: Woah~ … I knew you were really into that Full Dive FPS Chihiro-kun invited you to start playing, but...

Kaede: I didn’t know you’re also into arcade games.You’ve got a wide range of interests.

Tao: I actually prefer the gun games at arcades. Think “Chronos Crisis”.

Kaede: Isn’t that a famous retro game from the Heisei era? You can play it even now? 

Tao: There’s an arcade that’s only got games like this. It’s my favorite.

Kaede: There’s a store like that? Seems interesting…

Tao: We can go together, if you’d like?

Tao: It doesn’t have the latest release I was talking about, but I was thinking of going as a change of pace.

Kaede: Are you sure? Then, I’ll come and refresh myself too!

Location: Arcade

Kaede: Amazing, there’s so many retro games…!

Tao: This place has machines that are pretty much extinct, and they’re all operable. Let’s use them since we’re here.

Tao: Is there anything you’re particularly interested in?

Option 1: It’s gotta be the claw machine

Kaede: It’s gotta be the claw machine. Whenever I see one, I can’t help but peek at its contents.

Tao: I get it. Whenever I see big candy or plushies, I can’t help but want to get them.

Tao: Is there anything you want? I’ll do my best to get it for you.

Option 2: The medal games look interesting

Kaede: The medal game look interesting. But there’s so many of them, it’s hard to pick which to play…

Tao: You can just pick whichever you click with.

Tao: This store’s games are all set at a friendly difficulty, and they let you play for a good amount of time. I think even you could hit a jackpot, Chief.

Tao: It’s pretty much luck-based, but I’ll help as much as I can.

Kaede: Thanks, Tao-kun.

Kaede: But… I think what I’m most interested in is the game you said you like.

Kaede: Look, it’s the one over there, right? Can we go give it a try?

Tao:  I don’t mind, but… I don’t know if you’ll like it or not, y’know?

Kaede: You’re worrying too much.

Kaede: C’mon, it looks like two people can play, let’s try it.

Tao: … Well, it should be fine as long as I don’t have a shotgun.

Tao: Okay. I’ll be 2P then. 

Kaede: Okay. I’m getting kinda nervous… This is my first time playing, sorry if I die immediately.

Tao: It’s okay. I’ll protect you.

Tao: I’ll drive away any enemies that come at you, so leave it to me.

Kaede: (I know this is just about the game, but Tao-kun sometimes says things that make my heart race with such a straight face…)

Tao: Are you ready? … Here we go!

Part 2

Kaede: Sorry, Tao-kun! I missed!

Tao: ‘s okay, no problem.

Tao: Just focus on what you can shoot. I’ll cover you.

Kaede: Thanks! I’ll do my best not to be dead weight!

-

Kaede: Woah, there are so many enemies…! There’s the mid-boss too, which one should I shoot at…?

Tao: Let’s split up.

Tao: I’ll take the boss. Chief, please try to reduce the surrounding enemies.

Kaede: G-Got it. Bring it on!

-

Kaede: (We’re close to clearing the stage, thanks to Tao-kun, but this attack is the most intense so far…!)

Tao: Chief, to your left!

Kaede: Oh no…!? M-My life…!

Tao: As I thought, using a handgun’s pretty tough.

Tao: – No choice left!

Kaede: (He switched to a shotgun?)

Tao: Oraoraoraora~! Don’t you lay a hand on Chief!!

Kaede: !?

Tao: No matter how many grenades you throw at me, they're useless unless they actually hit me! 

Kaede: (Amazing, he’s knocking down so many enemies despite their attacks! In quick succession, too…)

Tao: I’m the strongest one here. Thanks for making yourself an easy target! 

Tao: All that’s left… is to end you once and for all!

Kaede: (Looks like he was lying about having a hard time. He took down the boss in no time…!)

Tao: Tch, it’s over already? They didn’t resist much…

Tao: Ah.

Tao: (I’m done for~~~!!!)

-

Tao: … I’m sorry you had to see that, Chief. Whenever I hold a shotgun, I act up like that…

Kaede: (Come to think of it, there was a big gunfight at the end of that survival...)

Tao: Oh, you must be tired, yeah? I bought some drinks! Would you like orange or apple?

Kaede: Uhhh… Orange.

Kaede: (The sudden change was definitely kinda shocking, but I think it just goes to show how he enjoys gaming above all else…)

Tao: …

Kaede: (Tao-kun looks sorta embarrassed…)

Kaede: You don’t have to worry about it. You were just trying to keep your promise, weren’t you?

Kaede: I wouldn’t have made it to the end if I was playing by myself, so if anything, I should be thanking you.

Kaede: You really are good at this, Tao-kun!

Tao: … If you enjoyed it just a bit, then I’m happy, Chief.

Kaede: Let’s take a break and then try some other games.

Tao: Yeah! What should we do next?

Location: HAMA Center

Kaede: Ah, we played lots~! I had fun!

Tao: So did I

Tao: We hit the jackpot, got souvenirs for the members from the crane game, it was great.

Kaede: I played lots of games for the first time ever, and they were all pretty memorable, but I had the most fun playing that gun game with you.

Tao: We went back and played it a few more times after playing other games, after all. I’m happy you liked it.

Kaede: To think you’d top the national ranking in just one day. That’s Tao-kun for you.

Tao: What are you saying? You also got better with every round we played.

Tao: You probably got a talent for gun games.

Kaede: (... I only made it to the rankings because of Tao-kun. I know I pretty much suck.)

Kaede: (It may just be flattery, but I’m happy he’s praising me.)

Kaede: By the way, when you registered for the ranking, you put on the username “O&A”.

Kaede: Is that the username you always use?

Tao: No, it’s not.

Tao: “O&A” means “Orange & Apple”... It comes from the juices we drank together.

Tao: I didn’t achieve this score by myself. It’s something we achieved together.

Tao: It’s a commemorative name, only for today.

Kaede: … There you go again. Are you aiming at me?

Tao: Huh? What do you mean?

Kaede: Ah well. Let’s go home!

Tao: Yeah. If we’re too late, Chihiro’s gonna start sulkin’ that I’m monopolizin’ you…

Tao: Ah! Look, Chief. The sunset’s so beautiful.

[spicyspiders]

not a chance to slow down

Peter Quill x male reader smut

1.8k words

Tags: unprotected sex and age difference

A/N: I’ve been obsessed with Star-Lord since I played the Guardians of the Galaxy game around the beginning of the year. The one written about here though is from the MCU and was pretty much inspired by some gifs I saw and couldn’t stop thinking about lol. I’ll probably end up writing something about Adam Warlock too because how could I not when Will Poulter looks as good as he does.

The first time you spoke to Peter, it was in passing. You were tired and cranky, having driven many miles to get home during your summer break from school. You were on your last box when he came out of his house.

“Nice shirt,” you said casually when he walked by you.

“Thanks!” His eyes darted down to the box you held, “you need some help with that?”

“This is the last one, thankfully,” you answered and used one hand to wipe the sweat that had gathered on your brow.

“I wish I knew you needed help, I definitely would’ve been out here to help you,” the man responded.

You couldn’t help but eye him over. With how broad his shoulders looked, you’re sure he would’ve been able to help without getting as sweaty as you did.

“I appreciate that, but it’s okay,” you said, sending him a smile, “that mail does look pretty heavy after all.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” the man responded, and raised the few pieces of mail like a dumbbell, making his bicep flex.

It was probably from the time you spent in your car making you go a little crazy, but the man’s joke made you laugh harder than you expected. The other man’s face went red as you laughed, but after a second, he almost looked smug, like he was happy his joke had such a reaction.

“So,” the man says when your laughter has died down, “you here for the summer?”

“Yeah. After a long semester, I’m finally home,” you said, sending a grateful smile toward your house.

“Well, I’m happy to be the first person to welcome you back,” he says, sending you a soft smile.

You didn’t want to tell the man that he wasn’t the first person you saw since you’ve been home, instead, a smile matching the one the man wore landed on your lips. “Who do I have to thank for such a warm welcome?”

“Peter Quill, at your service,” he said, adding a bow.

You couldn’t help but laugh again at the display. You introduced yourself around the fit of giggles as Peter went on to laugh at himself.

“Let me know if you need any help unpacking,” Peter called from his door after you walked up your respective driveways. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” Peter said as he stood in the open doorway.

“I hope so too,” you responded, sending one last smile his way before you closed the door. The smile on your face lasted until you got to your bedroom, and fell once you were reminded of all of the boxes you needed to unpack.

-

Though you were tempted to walk out of your house and head next door to see if Peter would come to help you unpack your boxes, you didn’t end up seeing him until the next day.

“Are you on mail duty too?” Peter asked as he leaned against his mailbox.

“It’s one of my most important responsibilities. Nice robe, by the way,” it was pretty boring as far as robes go with its plain white color, but you weren’t about to tell Peter that.

“You like it?” Peter twists himself to the left and right to make sure you have a full look at the garment, “I just bought it.”

“Am I the first to see you in it?” You ask in surprise.

“You are. I saved it just for you.”

You let out a chuckle, though you weren’t sure if Peter was being serious, “what’s it gonna be tomorrow?”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest, looking away with an intense look of thought on his face, “I could break out my birthday suit, but that’s reserved for my bedroom and the bathroom.”

You look at him with your brows raised, a slow smile spreading across your face, “I think I would get pretty lonely if you got arrested for doing that, so I’d think of something else to wear.”

“Or you could come up to my room and I could just show you, that way I don’t have to think of what I should wear to impress you,” Peter said with a smirk.

“I know thinking can be hard at your age, so that sounds like a good idea.”

Peter’s smirk morphed into a look of offense, “how old do you think I am?”

“You were wearing a Metallica shirt yesterday.”

“So? They’re a good band, that doesn’t make me old,” Peter responded.

“How old are you?”

Peter looked away, and glanced at the mail you held in your hand before looking back at you, “40,” he answered before looking away again.

“You’re not that old at least,” you responded, smiling when Peter shook his head.

You couldn’t ignore the nervous feeling that started to sink in when you stepped up to the man, “I have to put this inside then I’ll be over, okay?”

Peter nodded, sending you a small smile, “better hurry, you don’t want me getting any older, do you?”

-

You meant it when you said Peter wasn’t that old. It even made more things about him make sense, like his taste in shirts, and the way his eyes crinkled yesterday when he laughed at his joke. What didn’t make sense, or really, what you didn’t expect, was the way that he fucked you.

It almost reminded you of the guy you went home with last semester. Like the guy you went home with, Peter fucked you fast and hard. You honestly expected it to be over just as quickly as that last time, but when Peter rolled over onto his back and sat you down on his cock, you let out a punched out noise of surprise.

“Tired?” You asked.

Peter grinned, “I’m not as young as I used to be,” he said, running his hands up and down your thighs. When he pulled his hands away, he crossed them behind his head, looking relaxed.

You watched in confusion as Peter lay there. When his eyes fell shut, you clenched down on his cock, hoping to get the man back into action, but he stayed still. When you clenched back down on his throbbing cock, that’s when Peter’s eyes opened again to watch you.

“That all you’re going to do?” Is that enough to get you off?” He asked with a smirk.

“Fuck you,” you snipped back. You knew from the first time that you brought yourself up with your thighs that they would quickly start to ache, but it only spurred you on. You fell back down after bringing yourself up with a moan, feeling as if the cock inside you went deeper than the poison that you were just in.

“There you go, baby,” Peter said, his smirk now a toothy smile, “I knew you had it in you,” he said, still just fucking laying there.

In retaliation for his stillness, you reached down to twist at one of his nipples with your fingers, but it only made Peter let out a groan filled with pleasure. You took to settling your hands on his broad chest, finding purchase to help fuck yourself down on his cock.

You didn’t expect after only having met yesterday that you would be bouncing up and down on his cock the next day. You could see when you met him yesterday how broad his shoulders and chest were, but now, seeing it uncovered from the shirt he wore yesterday, and the bathrobe he wore today, you could see the way his muscles were covered with a soft layer of fat.

Your head fell back as you let out moans as the cock inside you hit your prostate as you filled yourself to the brim over and over again.

When the inevitable burn in your thighs began to set in, you paused to lean down and press your lips to Peter’s. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his cock throb against your prostate, even as you sat still.

Peter answered with a noise of his own and moved his hands back down to your hips. He traced his fingers over the sensitive skin of your hips bones, making you shudder, and once the kiss was over, his hands moved to the globes of your ass.

Peter gripped the skin tightly and used the harsh grip to lift you before he loosened his grip so you could fall back down.

You felt your body go boneless in his arms from the effort that you had put in, but with the way that Peter lifted you so he could fuck his cock in and out of your hole, you were happy to let go under the effort he gave.

You panted into his sweaty neck, letting out little grunts as you tried to still fuck yourself back down on his cock. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, too focused on that to respond when Peter turned his neck to connect your lips.

In reprisal, Peter bit harshly into your bottom lip before he soothed the mark over with his tongue. The headboard slammed into the wall as Peter thrust over and over into your tight, warm hole. The sound was accompanied by the slick sound of sweaty skin on skin.

When you leaned up, Peter followed so he could stay close and connect your lips. You tried your best to keep up, but ended up with your forehead pressed to his as you panted into his mouth once the kisses were over.

With one hand still braced on his chest, you used the other to wrap your fingers around your cock. After a few tugs of your cock to the rhythm of Peter’s thrusts, your back arched and your head fell back as your orgasm washed over you.

You opened your eyes during the aftershocks as Peter chased you into orgasm. He held your asscheeks in a bruising grip as he thrust inside your hole. You almost wanted to open your mouth and let out a whimper of pain at the grip he held you in, but he soon relaxed as he fell over the edge.

Peter gave one final thrust when he let go of your ass, instead moving his hands to your back so he could pull you close. He groaned over and over again, each noise ending with a breathy moan as he came deep inside you.

You buried a hand in his sweaty hair as he ducked his head down into the crook of your neck. Peter held you close even after his cock had gone soft, his only movement being a slight shift for his cock to slip free.

You felt warm and sticky in his arms. You knew Peter had a mess that coated his chest from where your cock had shot ropes of cum, and you knew that you were equally messy where Peter’s cock had been, but you didn’t want to move.

Peter fell back down to the bed with a groan before pulling your body down on top of his. Though he wrapped you tightly in his arms, you still couldn’t contain your shiver as everything on and leaking out of you began to cool.

Peter gave a low chuckle, “did I not warm you up enough?”

You pressed your smile into the sweaty crook of his neck, “I might need your bathrobe.”

[mikeandikeschmidt]

FNAFMovie!Incorrect Quotes: Part Four

WILLIAM, as Steve Raglan: You're clearly not listening. I can say whatever I want, can't I?

MIKE, half asleep: Tell me about it.

WILLIAM: I murdered another kid last night.

MIKE: I feel you.

WILLIAM: Now I have the taste of blood, I can't stop killing.

MIKE, yawning: Been there

***

MIKE: If I seem intense, that's for one reason and one reason only, okay? I don't wanna be here and I'm really sad.

***

VANESSA: Why is Barbie's the Nutcracker the only good film adaptation of the ballet that has ever been made?

MIKE, who’s been around Abby too long: Because Barbie movies slap, next question.

***

WILLIAM: it's time for you to die.

ABBY: One sec, let me ask my brother

WILLIAM: It's not a choi--

ABBY: Mike said no.

***

MIKE: I did what I could, you know, while I was also trying not to bleed to death.

***

WILLIAM: I will ruin your happiness, no matter the cost!

MIKE: My happiness?

MIKE, turning to Vanessa: I'm happy?

***

ABBY: You wanna see how hardcore I am?

ABBY: *punches wall*

ABBY:

ABBY: Take me to the hospital.

***

MIKE: Well, well, well. If it isn’t my old friend...the dawning realization that I messed up bad.

***

MRS. AFTON: Hey, it's your turn to wash dishes.

WILLIAM: I'LL WASH THE WALLS RED WITH YOUR BLOOD

MRS. AFTON: 'Kay, but before that, wash the dishes. Also, use soap this time?

***

WILLIAM, a career counselor: Look, I would like to give you moral advice, but I have very questionable morals.

***

MIKE: You're my little sister and the most important thing in the world to me. I would do anything for you.

ABBY: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule.

MIKE: Absolutely not.

***

MIKE: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm ticked off

***

MIKE: You saved me. I owe you my life.

VANESSA: No, thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

***

WILLIAM, first interviewing Mike: You look familiar. Have I killed one of your loved ones before?

***

MIKE: Fool me once, I’m gonna kill you

***

MIKE: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?

WILLIAM: You mean literally or figuratively?

MIKE: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

***

WILLIAM: 'Person of interest' is almost too flattering.

WILLIAM: Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, 'Someone has been murdered in your building and you are a person of interest,' I'd be like, 'Moi? Oh, do go on.'

***

VANESSA: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

MIKE: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

***

MIKE: People are always asking me if I'm a morning person or a night person. And I'm just like, 'Buddy! I'm barely even a PERSON!'

***

ABBY: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside

MIKE:

MIKE: Abby, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn...

ABBY: *Sips chocolate milk from bowl*

***

MIKE: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

(This can apply to both the movie and the game)

***

VANESSA: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

MIKE, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

***

MIKE: Okay, maybe playing, "Whose family is more dysfunctional" was a bad idea. Vanessa's sobbing in the bathroom now. We can't get her out.

***

MIKE: I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so let's go for 12 more just incase.

VANESSA: Mike, that's a coma.

MIKE: Sounds festive.

***

VANESSA: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine!

MIKE: How can you still say that?

VANESSA: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

***

WILLIAM: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died-

VANESSA: Twelve, actually.

WILLIAM: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really, whose fault is that?

VANESSA: Yours!

WILLIAM: That's right: no one's.

***

[Mike is the only one raising Abby after his dad’s depressed and his mom lost it]

MIKE: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis.

Mike’s Dad: You're, like, 15 years old

MIKE: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

***

WILLIAM, sitting with his back turned: I’ve been expecting you, Michael

MIKE: How did you do that without turning around?

WILLIAM: ...To be perfectly honest, the first couple of people I did that to were not you.

***

[The career counselor scene]

MIKE, explaining why he's gone through so many jobs: Bad things keep happening to me, like I have bad luck or something.

WILLIAM: Mike, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're stupid

***

MIKE, banging on the door: Vanessa! Open up!

VANESSA: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

MIKE: No, I meant--

ABBY: Let her finish.

***

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 2

Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Masterlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, attempted sexual assault (not Joel), somno, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot)but fair warning, major age gap

This is a reader fic, reader is early 20's, Joel is 40's at this point, reader is small enough that the men can lift her, but these are strong men. Reader is also refered to as little one, little girl ETC, but that's more in reference to her age/innocence than physical size.

Please make sure you read the warnings, this chapter will have some of the most intense stuff of this fic!

You woke up with a start, scrambling on the dirty mattress to sit up. It was Tommy, not Joel.

“It’s just me” He said with a plate of food. “He’s doing business, he’ll be back later.”

You knew what ‘later’ meant for you.

Tommy set down the plate and stepped forward, making you scramble back against the wall. “Relax, honey, I ain’t gonna touch yuh. Joel made sure to give a  big speech full of vivid details on what he’d do to anyone who did” He pulls something out of his pocket; a deck of cards. “You know how to play solitaire?”

You nod.

“Good, you can have these. I imagine it’s gonna get real boring here when he-” Tommy stopped himself. Your purpose here was for Joel to fuck, and not much else, this was sure to lead to intense boredom in your solitary confinement; Tommy was offering you a small mercy, something to do.

“Go fish?” You asked softly.

*

You and Tommy end up playing the world quietest game of go fish, slowly easing up to him. You learned a thing or two from him in the small pieces he gave you, like that Joel was his older brother. You found it odd at first, to be sure, but the parts came together the more you thought about it. Their personalities were different, Tommy was much softer, kinder, gentle; it gave you an idea.

“Whats it like?” You asked.

Tommy looks up from his cards at that. “What’s what like?”

You don’t look at him. “Joel… he’s gonna…  and I’ve never” You feel your heart rate pick up, anxious for his reaction.

You hear a loud sigh, and see Tommy scrub his face. “I can’t be having this conversation with you” He starts to get up.

“NO!” You lunge forward, grabbing his hand and looking him dead in the eye. “No, please, I need to know what’s going to happen.”

With a groan, he sits back down, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’ll probably bleed, but not everyone does. And it’s gonna hurt. I doubt Joel’s gonna take it easy on you.”

There’s a long period of silence before you say your next words. “Can you do it?”

In a flash, Tommy was standing up and walking to the door.

“Wait! Please!” you scramble up, grabbing his arm before it turns the handle.

“No! I’m not participating in this! I got enough on my conscience as it is!” His eyes are shut tight as you pull on him to turn to you.

“Please, Tommy, you’ll make it easier, I don’t want it to hurt!”

He opened his eyes wide, gripping your shoulders. “It’s going to hurt either way! There’s no ‘easier’, you’re fucked!”

You freeze, tears welling up in your eyes. “Tommy, please. I need you to do this.”

The desperation in your eyes gave him pause to consider. He had tried to stop this whole thing from happening, tried to pull back his brother the way only he knew how, to give Joel some sort of moral compass that he lost the day Sarah died… but even Tommy wasn’t enough. He saw the look Joel had in his eyes, that intense focus, that desire, not just to fuck her but to control her, own her in every sense of the word… and if Joel ever found out he did this, he’d be fucked. But Tommy was trying his best to make things easier on the young girl, and she was right; he’d be easier than Joel.

“You can never tell anyone, or we are both dead.”

Tommy was careful, opening you up with his fingers first, then fucking you, placing his pants under you, stopping the bleeding from staining the bed; a dead giveaway. He tried to touch you, out of courtesy, give you at least something, but you declined. Joel wouldn’t do that, you shouldn’t get used to it.

When it was over, Tommy couldn’t look you in the eyes as he wiped you off, putting on his blood and cum stained pants and leaving the room.

You played solitaire for hours until Joel stomped in.

With wide eyes, you stare up at Joel, setting down the cards.

“Get on the bed” He spoke harshly, dirt and blood on his skin and clothes and you could tell it had been a long day, and you were about to get the end of it. You did as you were told, getting onto the ‘bed’ which was a mattress on the floor, and waiting for instruction. Tommy was right; it had hurt, and Joel was bigger, and much, much angrier.

“It’s simple, little one. All you have to do is lay there and take it. Don’t gotta do nothing fancy, no tricks, no skills.” he took a few steps closer, beginning to undo his belt. “I’ll take care of you, I’ll make ure everything is okay.” he pulled off the belt, and slid down his pants before stepping out of each leg, moving slowly towards your shaking form, towering over you. “ I don’t want to hurt you, and I ain’t letti’n none of them touch you, so no more worrying about whose cock is going to be in your pretty little mouth.” 

Joel bent over and you whimpered as he took your chin in his hand, forcing you too look up at him. “It’s yes sir, no sir, you don’t talk back, you do as you’re told, don’t try to escape and you’re good to go.” He let go of you, standing straight up and god, he was intimidating from where you sat. “You’ll never have to wonder where your next meal is coming from., you just get to sit pretty for me.” Joel finally pulled down his boxers, spitting in his hand before beginning to stroke his extensive length. “And really, isn’t this just better?”

Despite at least know what to expect, you were terrified. You had seen Joel kill your brother only yesterday, you knew what he was capable of, and you didn’t believe his ‘I won’t hurt you’ spiel for a second.

“Please don’t” you plea softly. “I don’t want to…”

Stepping out of his boxers, he huffs a laugh. “Funny, I don’t remember askin’ you”

Picking you up, Joel flipped you onto your stomach and straddled your legs, pinning you to the bed as you squirmed, quite ‘no’s’ and ‘please’s’ slipping out of your mouth, getting louder until he tugged down your pants and it all culminated in screaming while you twist and turn, trying to get away and hit him. “GET OFF ME! YOU FUCKER!”

Joel did not like that, turning you over fully onto your back and slapping you, hard. Your head rang from the force of his large hand, and you tasted blood in your mouth. Everything was hazy as you stilled in shock, and you didn’t even realize what he was doing until a second stinging pain pulled you attention.

“Ah, AH!” you shout as Joel thrusts into you in one go, splitting you open, and if you had any sense in you, you’d be thankful Tommy was your first; you couldn’t imagine the pain you’d be in right now. However, in the moment, you were only concerned with the pain as you continue to whimper.

“Shut the fuck UP!” Joel shouted, covering your mouth as he thrust into you, looking down to watch himself disappear into you. “You look so good like this, little girl, all stretched out around me, fuck. Awww you're bleeding?” Joel patted your pussy. "Am I braking you? Just a lil bit?" He picked up the pace, harsh and brutal, and you begin to cry, as quietly as you can.

“Fuck, you cry so pretty, no wonder all those men wanted to hurt you, so fucking gorgous” Growing more eratic, a thin sheen of sweat grew on his forehead and he smiled cruelly, slipping his hand around your folds "But they don't get to, not anymore" you were wetter than you'd like to admit. “Sure you don’t want this? You’re awfully wet. Think I can make you come huh? While you cry and pretend to hate the feeling of me filling you up?” Joel touched your click, and laughed when he felt you clench around him. “Yeeeeah, yeah you like this, sweet thing”

There was something warm brewing in your stomach, a warmth that spread to your skin, and you weren’t entirely sure what was happening. Were you poisoned? Is he fucking your dying body? But it felt good. 

“Let go, little one, come on my cock”

A pleasureful pulsing in between your legs and suddenly your body felt great, and you didn’t know why; it didn’t last long, however, not long enough to distract you from what was happening. When it faded, you realized Joel was coming on your pelvis and the dirty shirt you still had on from yesterday. You didn’t look at him as he got up, turning your head to look at the wall, trying to stop existing in the moment. When you heard him leave, you curl over on your side and keep crying, too tired and too upset to notice when he came back until Joel arms wrapped around you again.

“Please” You whimpered, too tired to put up much of a fight. “It hurts too much.”

“Shh, shhh sweetness, we’re not going to do anything.” Joel scooped you up, wrapping the ratty blanket around your exposed bottom before carrying you out of the room. You were disgusted with him and yourself, but you were scared and lonely, so you clung to him; you didn’t want to be alone. 

Joel carried you into the bathroom, pulling off the blanket and laying you down into a hot tub of water, pulling off your old shirt.

“There we go, little one, just relax, close your eyes and relax” Joel spoke softly, washing you with the harsh soap and gentle touches speaking softly into your ear. What did he think this was? What were you to him? When you were cleaned up, he put you in his clothes, whispering promises to get you your own. You could tell, as you walked from the bathroom to your room, that the men were watching you, but Joel arms around you left no room for them; you were his.

This was the routine for nearly a week. Joel would fuck you, and it would hurt. He never kissed you, but he always made you come, slowly conditioning you to have a pavlovian response to him; your body associating him with an orgasm, making you start to get wet when you saw him, despite how afraid you constantly were. This made things a little easier, but Joel never took it easy on you during sex, and it was multiple times a day. Afterwards, however, it was strange… sometimes he’d draw you a bath, sometimes he’d bring you food, clean you off, small, soft moments that never failed to confuse you with the juxtaposition of what was happening. You took it, however, whatever he gave you, because you were lonely, and you were scared. You saw Tommy sometimes, every day he brought you food and stayed to talk for as long as he could, even if just a few minutes, but sometimes long enough to play a card game or two. You felt like you were going crazy, secluded enough that you almost found yourself looking forward to Joel. Almost. 

Despite his insistence he didn’t want to hurt you, he did. Not on purpose, you didn’t think, but more that he was careless as he manhandled you, the painful grip on your face in he covered your mouth, the punishing pace he set, your face hitting the wall when he turned you. In the moment, it was painful, but after he came and he calmed down, he seemed to almost feel bad, hence taking care of you.

But tonight it had simply been too much, everything hurt, your heart ached, and you were going stir crazy in your room with nothing to do but play solitair and get fucked. You had been assessing the room and different options, and you realized while the window didn’t open, it wasn’t bared. If you broke the glass and climbed out fast, you could get a head start in the woods. It was spring, cool but not cold, and certainly you could find somewhere to go, right? Run away, somewhere far, far to where Joel could never find you.

That's how you found yourself, running in the woods, blood on your hands from punching the window open despite wrapping the thin blanket around your hand, fleeing for your life. You had heard shouts from the house as you escaped, they knew you were gone, and were after you. You could hear the sound of a horse, although the lay out of the woods made it impossible to tell where the hoof prints were coming from as Joel, Tommy, or one of the other men chased you down, you weren't sure who. Weak from lack of food and sleep, and the cold air in your lungs, you tried to run, not getting very far when Joel nearly trampled you with his horse, picking you up by your shirt and throwing you over it on your stomach. You kicked and screamed and pleaded and cried, but it was no use. Joel didn’t say a word, quickly riding back to the barn and yanking you down. His silence was terrifying, and eerie calm before the storm you knew was coming. 

“Joel, please, I’m sorry!” You shout, trying desperately to make things better, but Joel was on a mission, dragging you by your hair out of the bar and grabbing something you couldn’t see.

“JOEL!” You hear Tommy shout from across the field of grass, running over to where you were desperately attempting to keep up with Joel’s long strides and he pulled you by your hair, not caring if you tripped and it hurt. “Joel, stop, you need to calm down” Tommy tried to calm his brother, but Joel wasn’t listening, an Tommy attempted to pull you up to ease the weight on your scalp. When you got inside, the other raiders had gathered in the living room, and you expected Joel to take you to your room where he��d do whatever he was planning as punishment; instead, he stopped by the fireplace, throwing whatever it is he grabbed from the barn into the fire.

Joel pulled you up, hand still deep in your hair as he thrust your back up against the wall. “Don’t I treat you good?” He asked, oddly calm. “I take care of you, I feed you, I don’t let anyone else touch you.” Is that what he thought? That he was taking care of you? “You don’t have to do a damn but sit in that room and cum. You think things are so bad here? You think I abuse you? I’LL FUCKING SHOW YOU WHAT ABUSE IS!” Joel suddenly screams, loud and in your ear. “You think I treat you like a whore? I’ll show you how a whore gets treated!” Joel let go of your hair, but you were too terrified to move as Joel grabbed the collar of the shirt and ripped it open and pulling it off before yanking down your pants, exposing your naked body to Tommy and several hungry looking men in the room.

Tommy stepped forward, talking quietly. “Joel, don’t do this-”

Joel pulled out his gun, pointing it at Tommy, “Stand against the wall, you don’t get to play knight in shining armor this time.” 

Tommy looked at you apologetically, then backed away. Your eyes turned to another man you recognized from the first day, the redhead, was staring at you like a piece of meat before Joel yanked your face back to his. “Tommy ain’t saving you this time, neither is Nick.” He throws you over the table, bare stomach to the cold wood, and handcuffing your right arm to the leg. “Fucking ungrateful bitch!” You heard him unbuckle and before you had a chance to blink, he thrust into you violently. “This is how whores get treated, is this what you want?” When you didn’t answer, he screamed again. “IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?!”

“No” You sob, looking up to Tommy for help, but Tommy stood where he was told too, closing his eyes. There was no point in trying to stop Joel on a rampage, unless you wanted to die.

You do as Tommy did; you close your eyes, and try to pretend you weren’t here, that the pain wasn’t happening, that you weren’t being violated in front of several men, including one that was the only person you could consider even close to a friend. From where you were bent over you could feel Joel hitting your cervix. Joel continued to degrade you, telling you this is what whores get, that dumb bitches don’t get cared for, that this was all you were good for before pulling out and cumming on your back.

You thought it was over, but Joel had one last trick. 

“Since you want to try and run away, despite how good I’ve been, better make sure anyone that finds you knows who you belong to.”

“STOP!” Tommy shouts, one last try. “This is enough, she’s learned her lesson Joel, you're going to fucking far!”

Joel didn’t listen, and when you turned to see what he was doing, you realized what he grabbed from the barn

A cattle brand, his initials on the hot iron. 

“Jo- AHH!” Your final attempts at begging for mercy are cut off by the searing pain on you hip, burning, blinding pain as you were branded. You were vaguely aware of Tommy yelling something, but you couldn’t tell anyone. Still handcuffed and bent over a table, Joel slapped the fresh burn as a last bit of punishment, and you were so exhausted you were only capable of a whimper. You could smell your own chard flesh in the air as the adrenaline coursed through you.

Joel walked around to the other end of the table and bent down to be face to face with you, brown eyes large and intense even in your bleary vision. “You’re gonna be thankful for just me, little one”

Joel stood up, and announced to the men there that they could all have a turn with you tonight, and stormed off into his room.

You were out of tears, out of pleas, ready to just lay there and take it until it was over, and hope to god if you behave Joel would go back to how he was.

You could see the redhead, step forward and begin to unzip, but Tommy, forever your savior, pushed him away. “Back off Nick”

“Oh I suppose you want her first?” 

“No one’s touching her” 

You felt a warm blanket draped over you, before Tommy knelt down and picked the lock on the handcuffs

Nick argued. “Joel said we can have her”

“And I said no. I can’t stop Joel’s bullshit, but I can draw the line with you all”

“What, so you can have her but we can’t?”

“No one but Joel is having her, fuck off”

"He said"

"And I said no"

Wrapping the blanket around you to cover your modesty, Tommy picked you up and carried you into your room, carefully laying you on the side that wasn’t burned. “I’ll be right back” he promised.

And he did, gently putting ointment on you and bringing his clothes for you to change into, but you were so shaken you preferred to just stay wrapped in the blanket.

“I’m sorry, honey” were the last words he sent to you before he left. You lay in your shitty bed, awake for hours, crying on and off.

When the door opened again, you thought maybe it was Tommy, but you recognized Joel’s footsteps, and froze in place. You weren’t sure how much you could take, at this point, how much more he could do to you before you gave up, before you found some way to end it all. For now, however you were going to behave, you were going to be good; you didn’t want to be hurt again. So you laid there, ready for Joel to take you how he always did, hoping to god he’d protect you from the other men and not hurt you again, not like he had, anyway.

But he didn’t.

Joel laid down behind you, pulling you in so that his body encased yours, wrapping his arms around you with a tender touch. Suddenly, your exhaustion took over the alert terror in your body that was keeping you up, and despite the fact he was the one that hurt you, you felt relaxed and safe. Before you drifted off to sleep in his arms, he gently placed his hand over the burnt skin where his initials were permanently etched on you. "Mine" he whispered in your ear. “No one else gets to touch you, little one”

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

Thank you all sooooooooooo so much for the outpouring of support for this story!

I hope I got all the tags, if you'd like to be added to the tag list let me know!

I got two anons due to this side account, one telling me they lost all basic respect for me, and one saying that if i have a rape fantasy, then my real-life rape that i've talked about on my main page, wasn't really rape.

But I've gotten such an outpouring of love from this series, it makes up for it.

If you want a bonus chapter of Tommy taking Little One's virginity, let me know!

Next weekend i have a wedding i gotta travel 10 hours for so there wont likely be a chapter for over a week, SORRY!

Real quick promo for my main blog @romanarose , I have two Joel fics there, one one shot and one series, and if you like wild sex and Triple Frontier, consider checking out the Awakening series!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega

[thoscheienjoyer]

A Short about if the 3rd Doctor gave a speech about redemption to his Master the way the 10th Doctor did (been watching them, I love old man yaoi)

The Doctor and the Master stand among the ruins of a civilization the Master attempted and failed to control. The Master stands in cuffs as well, leaning against a pillar just waiting to be dragged back to that prison with an expression of indifference as always, he escapes easily enough to not be concerned. Instead of leading him to any punishment, the Doctor speaks.

"We don’t have to keep doing this, you know. This endless cycle of plotting and thwarting. You’re brilliant, Master. Just imagine what we could accomplish together if you used your talents for good."

The master is momentarily caught off guard before resorting back to his usual demeanor, he could almost laugh at the attempt, "For good? You mean, join you in your tedious crusade for justice and righteousness?? How predictably dull, Doctor."

But the Doctor isn't deterred, he steps forward and insists, trying to get through to his old friend, "Not dull, challenging, rewarding. Think about it, the two of us with all of time and space at our disposal, fixing the wrongs, helping civilizations thrive, exploring the wonders of the universe not to conquer but to understand."

"And what makes you think I’d find that even remotely appealing? Power, control, and bending the universe to my will? That’s the real thrill, Doctor." His old friend also isn't deterred, he just smiles, like his thought process is the most correct a thought process could ever be.

The other shakes his head, a little frustrated. "I know you better than that. Beneath all the schemes and the desire for power there’s a brilliant mind seeking recognition, understanding, and maybe even a bit of companionship. All these conquests... they’re just a way to fill the void, aren’t they?" He steps closer again but the Master back away this time, his smirk fades into shock before switching up to anger to cover it.

"Don’t psychoanalyze me. You’re wasting your breath." He glares.

The Doctor sighs and looks at the ground as he speaks softly, "Maybe I am." He looks back up with a burning intensity as he makes eye contact with the conflicted Master, "But I’ve seen glimpses. Moments when you hesitated, when you spared lives you didn’t have to. There’s good in you. It’s buried deep, but it’s there." He extends his hand to the other, the cuffs would make a handshake awkward but still slightly doable, he doesn't care as long as he agrees. "Come with me. Let’s use our combined knowledge for something more significant than either of us ever could alone."

The Master turns away, seemingly contemplating the Doctor’s words, then looks back with a mix of mockery and genuine contemplation. " ..And if I refuse? What then?"

"Then we go back to our old game. But the offer still stands, I'll be waiting, you'll come around eventually" he gives a soft smile, believing his words to be true.

The Master looks at the Doctor for a long moment, a silent battle playing out in his eyes. Finally, he sighs, a small, almost regretful smile playing on his lips. "You always were the sentimental one. Perhaps, Doctor. Perhaps one day." His smile fades. "But not today." The Master turns away and watches as the car arrives that will take him to his cell, he's content with this familiarity instead of embracing the unknown.