#like they are just smaller and run from confrontation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

not a thing l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part i

summary: You fess up and tell Joel about how Ellie overheard the two of you during the private moment you two had in the woods; Ellie confronts Joel about you while you’re asleep in the truck.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. IMPLIED AGED GAP (no specific age mentioned for reader, Joel is canon age) Joel is kind of an asshole, Ellie is a wiseass, mentions of Tess.

word count: 4.7k

a/n: decided to write a second part to the first Joel fic that i ever wrote! i am so, so stunned that one fic turned into more and that people actually want to read my stuff for Joel/TLOU. thank you all sm for everything and for interacting with me and my content. it means a ton!

“Think this might be a good time to stop?” Joel asked you, quietly.

You hummed, glancing back over at Ellie through the rearview mirror.

Even through the darkness inside the small cab of the pickup truck, it was almost too painfully obvious as to how fucking exhausted the girl was and how much this journey had already taken out of her after only just a few days on the road. Although she was on the smaller side and had an ample amount of space to stretch out her limbs, lay down, and get a decent night’s sleep in the backseat of the truck while you and Joel both took turns driving through the night, Ellie had expressed to you on more than one occasion that she’d rather stop to make temporary camp somewhere for a few hours and continue the drive in the morning once everyone had the chance to take a break. You honestly couldn’t blame her, not even if you tried—it was taking its toll on you too, a lot more than you let on to both Joel and especially to Ellie.

Being the adult, you kept your complaints to yourself, but the truth of the matter was that at the end of each day, you were also getting sick and tired, so damn sick and tired, of the ungodly amount of time that you were spending cooped up in the pickup, just sitting on your ass.

Sure, it may have been a little bit of extra work and it was keeping the three of you from reaching Wyoming as fast as Joel would have liked given the nature of the smartass, teenaged cargo you two had on your hands—but you also preferred to stop and make camp for the night.

After realizing that Joel was still waiting for a response, you nodded.

“Yeah, we should probably call it for the night,” You told him, glancing down at the map of the country in your hands. The three of you made it to the state of Indiana; Missouri was your next planned stop to find gas to siphon and refuel, and even though it was just a little less than six hours away, you figured an early morning wakeup call could have you all there by tomorrow afternoon. “Only problem about a state like Indiana is that it’s flat as fuck. There’s nothing but wide, open grassy fields around here.” You peered out of the window, then turned back to Joel, frowning. “Think we’ll find a safe enough spot?”

“We’re just gonna have to make do with what we got,” Joel stated as he carefully veered the vehicle off of the highway and to the left, onto the aforementioned grassy field. “You think about a mile out from the highway is decent enough? Mile and a half, maybe?”

“Let’s make it two,” You suggested. You neatly folded up the map and stuck it into the glove compartment in front of you. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone or anything out here in the middle of nowhere, but might be best not to risk being too close to the highway, just in case.”

He looked over at you, nodding his head in agreement. “Two it is.”

“Aww, teamwork,” Ellie teased from the backseat. “How fucking cute.”

“It’d be real cute if you’d shut up,” Joel quipped. Once he pulled the truck about a couple of miles out onto the field, he came to a stop and then cut the engine. “We’re gonna take a breather for a few hours,” he said to Ellie over his shoulder. “But only for a few hours, and not a minute more. Come sunrise, we need to get movin’ again, understood?”

She saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain. Whatever you say.”

The second that you hopped out of the pickup, you started shivering. The chilly evening breeze nipped at any patch of exposed skin it could find. The days had been pretty decent, but at night, the temperatures would drop drastically—it couldn’t have been warmer than forty or so degrees. Instinctively, you reached into the top of your pack, pulling a second jacket you carried for yourself out of it. You handed it over to Ellie and instructed her, “Put this on. Cordyceps infection might not have taken you out, but hypothermia will.”

She took it from you, shooting you a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Joel eyed the interaction, his lips pursed together in displeasure.

He didn’t want you and Ellie getting attached to one another, but he feared it was too late. The girl had taken an instant liking to you and you seemed to have taken a liking to her too. “Here.” He tossed Ellie her blue sleeping bag. “Go lay down on the other side of the truck.”

“I’m already so fucking itchy just thinking we have to sleep here.” Ellie wrinkled her nose down at the grass under her shoes. Lifting her head, she took a glance around before turning her attention to you. It was written all over her face, evident in the way she started to shuffle nervously from foot to foot; she was afraid. “I feel so exposed. Are we really going to be safe? There’s fucking nothing out here, not even a single tree. What if someone finds us while we’re all sleeping?”

Before you could reassure her, Joel stepped in.

“No one is goin’ to find us out here,” he grouched. “We’ll be safe. Now quit your complainin’ and go get settled for the night. And don’t even think of askin’ me for a fire in the middle of a goddamn field. Got it?”

Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, it’s fine. You know, I’m actually kinda starting to get used to freezing my fucking ass off anyway.”

You lifted a hand to your mouth, trying to hide your snort of laughter.

She was too fucking quick for her own good.

Joel glared at you. “What? You think she’s funny?”

“Actually, I think she’s fucking hilarious,” You shrugged, causing him to let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s true! She’s made me laugh more in the last week than I have in the last two fucking decades.”

Ellie beamed at you. “At least someone still has a sense of humor.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he snapped, irritably. “Both of you.”

She leaned over towards you, muttering the question right under her breath, “Jesus, has he always been this fucking crabby?” She nudged your shoulder with hers. “You must have the patience of a fucking saint to be able to deal with this on the daily. I would have killed him by now and then offed myself too with that fucking attitude.”

He stepped towards her. “What’d you just say—”

“Ellie.” Although you tried your hardest to reprimand her, instead, you found yourself fighting back another laugh. “Come on, let’s go before he strangles us both.” Taking her arm, you started leading her around to the other side of the truck. Dropping her arm, you reached for your own sleeping bag from the bed of it and started rolling it out. Though you were still fighting back a fit of giggles, you found it in you to offer her some words of advice. “Ellie, I know Joel is not the easiest person to deal with, but you really have to stop giving him so much shit, kid. The man has enough gray hair as it is. Take it easy on him, will you?”

“But I need to keep myself entertained somehow,” she replied with a small, innocent shrug of her shoulders. She unrolled her own sleeping bag, laying it out right beside where you had laid out yours; you saw a pensive look cross her face and after a second, she moved it closer to yours, leaving about a one inch gap of space between the two. For as scared shitless as you had been to take someone like her under yours and Joel’s care, the mere fact that Ellie seemed to feel safer being so close to you must have meant you were doing something right.

“Jacket,” You reminded her.

“I know, I know.” Ellie tugged on the spare jacket that you’d given her just minutes ago, zipping it up to her chin. She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. Before rolling over onto her side, she stopped and a tiny, tired smirk tugged at her lips as she looked up at you. “Wait. You and Joel aren’t going to bone each other tonight, are you? Because I might actually have to suffocate myself in this thing if you do.”

You sighed heavily. “And here I thought you were actually going to do me the favor of never bringing it up ever again.”

“What can I say? Giving you shit is almost as fun as giving it to Joel.”

You nudged her lightly with the toe of you worn, brown leather boot, chuckling as you told her, “Go to sleep, you little jerk.”

“Remember. Protection.” Ellie yawned again, rolling over. “G’night.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

The minute that you heard her soft snores coming from inside of the bag and you were certain she was asleep, you made your way back to the other side of the truck where you found Joel busy loading up and checking his rifle. Thankfully, hadn’t seemed to have heard what Ellie had just said to you. “I’ll take watch tonight,” You offered, holding out your hands and beckoning for the weapon. You instantly noticed the all too familiar look of protest on his face. “Joel, you were the last one to drive today and you’re fucking exhausted. Just let me take watch.”

“The whole damn point of me drivin’ all the way out here was so we can all get some rest without worryin’ about anyone findin’ us,” Joel reminded you. “And besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on standin’ watch. I was just makin’ sure this was ready to go, in case of an emergency.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Joel, please. I know you like I know the back of my own goddamn hand and I already know that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and I’m going to find you standing watch, regardless of how safe you say we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” You continued holding your hands out for the rifle. “Look, my arms are getting tired here. Can you just give me the fucking gun please?”

“You need sleep—”

“We can swap places in a couple hours,” You compromised. “Deal?”

Knowing that you could be just as stubborn as he was, Joel grumbled something incoherently under his breath before finally shoving it into your waiting hands.

“Thank you. Now, was that really so hard?”

Joel scoffed, shoving past you. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his own sleeping bag. “You really need to stop talkin’ to the kid so much. She’s startin’ to rub off on you and I don’t like it.”

“Sweet dreams, Joel,” You replied, watching as he stalked around to the other side of the Chevy where Ellie was fast asleep.

An hour later, you found yourself leaning against the cab of the truck, the sound of chirping crickets your only companion. You held the rifle gently, but still firmly in your grasp, your index finger gingerly resting on the trigger. You tilted your head backwards, gazing up at the stars in the velvet night sky—you tried not to let your mind wander off very far, but you couldn’t help thinking of what Ellie had said to you earlier that morning back in the woods.

He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you.

She was wrong. She had to be wrong. She was fourteen, she was just a kid, after all. Besides, what the fuck could she possibly know about you and Joel, especially after only having been with the two of you for about a week?

Ellie was sorely mistaken.

Joel only kept you around for his benefit.

And the meaningless sex wasn’t the benefit you were referring to.

Joel had always been the brawn, but both you and Tess had been the brains of the operation. That’s how it had always been, at least for the better part of the last few years. You might have been on the younger side in comparison to your smuggling partners, but for some reason, Tess had seen something in you—what it had been, you never had the opportunity to find out, but it made her take a chance on you.

Against Joel’s wishes, she decided that she would take you under her wing; at eighteen years old, you’d been closer to being a child than an adult, but that only meant your mind was still pliable, and she could work with it. By the time you reached your twenties, it was apparent that Tess had all but molded you into a miniature clone of herself—she’d shown you how to think outside the box, taught you how to be persuasive, how to keep trades or deals from going south, and most importantly, what to do if they somehow did go south.

Now that she was gone, you were all that Joel had left. You were what he was stuck with. After Tess died, there was a part of you that had to wonder if Joel felt the wrong person had been infected and killed. It’s not that you thought that Joel would rather it was you who were dead but the reality was that if he’d been given the choice between having you or Tess at his side for this, you were certain it wouldn’t be you.

But he hadn’t gotten a choice.

It was you he ended up with, and you were his only shot at getting to Tommy and getting Ellie to where she needed to be. He needed help, and now that Tess was no longer here, you were the next best thing.

That was it.

A rustling sound nearby pulled you out of your train of thought. You immediately lifted your head and pushed yourself away from the cab, readying your weapon. You took quiet, careful steps and then sharply turned the corner around the bed of the truck, aiming the rifle at the figure in front of you with your finger still on the trigger.

“Fuckin’ relax!” Joel hissed at you, holding his hands up. “It’s me!”

“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled a sharp breath, lowering the gun. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You scared the fucking shit out of me, Joel! I just about shot your head off of your shoulders!”

“Your aim ain’t all that good, darlin’,” Joel stated as he walked up to you, a slight hint of amusement in his Southern drawl. “You keepin’ watch or zonin’ out over here?”

You ignored his teasing remarks. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as Joel fell into step in front of you, an all too familiar lustful glimmer in his eyes.

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he stated with a shrug of his is shoulder. “Had somethin’ on my mind. But from the looks if it, I ain’t the only one lost in thought.” He peered down at you. “What were you thinkin’ about, anyhow?”

“Nothing,” You fibbed. “Just, uh, just how fucking cold it is.”

Joel reached for the rifle, taking it out of your hands. He leaned over and placed it in the bed of the truck behind you. “And you tell me that I’m a shitty liar?” he asked with a small scoff. “Let’s pretend that for a minute that I actually believe that’s what you were really thinkin’ about.” With every word that he spoke, his voice became lower, huskier. “If the cold is what’s on your mind, I know a couple different ways I can help get your mind off of it.”

“Joel—”

“C’mere.” He hooked his index fingers through two of the front belt loops of your blue jeans, yanking you forward until you came crashing against his chest. He dipped his head, his lips eagerly meeting an exposed patch of skin on your neck. As he kissed and nipped at the delicate flesh, he started to move his hands from the belt loops of your jeans over to the buttons instead.

“Joel, wait,” You mumbled weakly, cursing how your body just always seemed to melt right in his fucking hands. “Joel, stop.” You’d said it so softly into his failing right ear that he hadn’t heard you.

Joel’s mouth left your neck, finding your own mouth instead in a way that made every single nerve in your body light on fire. He started to walk you backwards until your back hit the bed of the pickup, a soft thud noise filling the air around you. He pinned you tightly between it and himself as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily. The physically intimate moments that you two shared over the years had always been relatively short due to never having the time nor the place, but maybe that’s why he kissed you the way that he did—with such urgency, with such desperation, as if his fucking life depended on it. Because it never lasted as long as he would have liked and he never knew when he would be able to get his hands on you again.

Breaking away from you slightly, Joel placed his hand on your hip, his index finger grazing the soft skin right above the waist of your jeans as he murmured breathlessly against your lips, “I want you. I gotta have you. Right fuckin’ now.”

It took just about every last ounce of strength that you had inside you to place both of your hands on his chest and gently push him back. “I don’t think we should do this, Joel. Not with Ellie being so close by.”

“She’s asleep.” He frowned, taking your hands off of his chest as he took several steps back from you looking dejected. “Unless you just don’t want—”

You were quick to stop him. “Of course I want you.” You swallowed, your throat having gone dry. “It’s just that—see, the thing is that—”

“Fuckin’ spit it out.”

So you do.

“Ellie knows, Joel.”

“What?” Even in the darkness, you could see the color draining from his face. “How?”

“Look, I really didn’t want to tell you about this. But last night in the woods when we were—” You trailed off, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost anxiously.

“She saw us?”

“She heard us,” You corrected him. “She confronted me about it this morning before we left. I pretty much made her promise to keep her mouth shut because I didn’t want her saying anything to you about it. I didn’t want her giving you grief like she did to me.”

Joel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That little fucking shit—”

“It’s not her fault, Joel. And you know that. We shouldn’t have done it with her being so close by.”

You watched as he dropped his hand from his head, his jaw clenched.

“Joel, come on. Please don’t be mad about this.”

Joel fixed his eyes on the ground and tightly shook his head. “Go get some sleep. I’ll take over watch.”

“But Joel—”

“Just drop it,” he said, rigidly, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “Go.”

Knowing better than to push it, you simply nodded. “Okay.”

The moment you crawled into your sleeping bag next to Ellie, you’d tried your absolute hardest to get some shut eye, but what happened with Joel had you much too worried, and rightly so. Still, you prayed for sleep to come, but it never did and the rest of the night dragged on for what felt like a fucking eternity.

Hours later, when sunrise finally came around, you got up to find Joel had already been packing up the pickup truck, getting it ready for the long drive ahead. The second he saw you approaching him, he simply told you to wake Ellie because the three of you needed to get a move on sooner rather than later. After that, he’d hardly said another word to you.

He couldn’t even fucking look at you.

Halfway to Missouri, during a quick pitstop, Ellie had noticed the odd tension in the air between you and Joel. She’d also noticed how tired you looked. She offered to trade places and sit in as Joel’s copilot for the rest of the day, at least until you reached Kansas City.

“I think he’d actually prefer you as his copilot,” You’d muttered to her in reply, hopping into the backseat. Between the motion of the truck, the soft country music playing from another tape Ellie found, and the open windows bringing in fresh, crisp air, you’d curled up into a little ball in the backseat and passed out within minutes.

Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you, making sure you were actually asleep before turning to Joel. “She told you, didn’t she?”

“Zip it,” Joel ordered. “Ain’t none of your business.”

Ellie hummed. “Well, seeing as I had the absolute delightful pleasure of having to hear the two of you go at it like a couple of cats the other night, I think it actually is kind of my business now.” She paused. She could physically feel the way he was wincing beside her, though what was causing him to be so uncomfortable was left to be determined. Ellie would imagine that it was getting caught in the act itself, but for some reason, she sensed there was a lot more to this mess than met the eye and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. “She told me that you guys aren’t a thing—”

“We’re not a thing. We’re nothin’ at all, alright?”

Ellie blew a raspberry. “Yeah, alright. I see you’re both sticking to that story. That you’re not a thing.” She raised her fingers in quotations.

“It ain’t a story, it’s the truth. We’re nothin’ more than just a couple of smuggling partners tryin’ to get you to where the you need to be.” He glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. “And if you want to make it there unscathed, I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on that map in your hands instead stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I think I at least deserve an explanation after you two put me and my innocent little virgin ears through the wringer.”

“Ellie,” he warned.

It was almost kind of scary how she was already used him saying her name in that tone already. “You’ve been treating her shitty as fuck today, you know.”

Joel frowned. Even though he knew he didn’t need to defend himself to a fucking teenager, he found himself doing it anyway. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I haven’t said a single fuckin’ word to her today.”

“Exactly.” Ellie pointed her index finger at him. “It’s bothering her.”

“She’s a big girl, Ellie. If somethin’ is botherin’ her, then she can come and talk to me about it. She doesn’t need some kid helpin’ her out.”

“That’s the thing. She can’t talk to you about it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable guy, dude.”

Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway? You have other things to worry about. Like findin’ the fuckin’ Fireflies and helpin’ them create a vaccine that’s supposed to save the goddamn world.”

“Because,” Ellie said, refusing to allow him to change the subject, not when she felt like she was finally getting somewhere. “I like her. She’s a good person.”

Joel glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at you as you slept soundly. He couldn’t deny that. Even in this shit world, even after the things you’d seen and all the people you’ve lost, you really were still a good person. You still hadn’t lost touch with your sense of humanity—that was one thing Tess never managed to change about you, the one thing that kept you from being identical to her, identical to Joel. You somehow hadn’t let this world turn you into stone, and maybe that is why you meshed well with them from the start. You brought this odd kind of balance that they hadn’t even known they needed.

That Joel didn’t know he needed.

“She likes you.” Ellie’s voice caused him to snap back to reality. “Lord fucking knows why.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, did I offend?” Ellie quirked an eyebrow, feeling a teeny smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Listen. All I’m saying is that she’s really young. And she’s really pretty. She’s nice, and smart as fuck, too. I bet she could probably have any guy that she fucking wants.” Her smirk only grew noticing how her words had gotten a rise out of Joel. Ellie could tell by the way his fingers had the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles ghost white. “And yet for some reason, she chooses to stick with you, you old fucker.”

“Listen here you little shit—”

She quickly held her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s a good one, Joel.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I know she is.”

Bingo! Ellie thought to herself. Now we’re making progress.

“So, then why not treat her the way she deserves? Why just—what’s that saying? Hit it and quit it?”

Joel tossed a glare at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m not wrong though. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Ellie prompted.

“No!”

“But just a minute ago you said you two were nothing. So if you two are boning, but you’re nothing, that’s like a hit it and quit it, isn’t it? Or is it a fuck it and chuck it? Hump it and dump it?” She scratched her head, wracking her brain as she tried to figure it out. Beside her, Joel was about ready to implode. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right because you guys do it all the time. You’re not actually quitting it. So, it’s hooking up, right?”

“I swear to Christ I’m gonna make you fuckin’ walk to Wyoming if you don’t shut—how the fuck do you know all that? That what they teach you kids in FEDRA school?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Ellie grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Level with me, old man. Do you like her or not?”

Joel’s teeth were gritted together, his sights fixed on the road ahead.

“Or do you love her?” She practically sang.

“Ellie.” He said her name warningly once again, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and hear this conversation; thankfully you were still out cold.

Ellie waved a hand at him. “Oh relax, the woman’s sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Now, answer the fucking question.”

Joel didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.

He willed himself to open his mouth and say something—anything.

But he just couldn’t. He’d been stumped by a fucking fourteen year old who was too damn smart for her own good.

“Interesting,” Ellie mused after a minute of silence, curiously rubbing her chin. “How you can’t even deny it. Very, very, interesting.”

Before Joel could even think, the sound of you moving around in the backseat caused him to jump, the internal panic flooding him in one single wave. As soon as he was certain you were still fast asleep, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Ellie. “Now, you listen here—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She held up her finger to her lips. “Let’s not wake Sleeping Beauty back there.” She dropped her hand down into her lap and glanced out the window, grinning to herself. “Besides, I have the answer I was looking for anyway.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller hbo #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n

4K notes · View notes

writer-and-thrasher · 2 months

Text

Something about Gorgug's confrontation with Porter just sits so right with me.

Like, yeah, it was shitty to keep him from having an easier time because he wanted him to prove himself.

But also, Gorgug does deserve to be angry. They all do. But Gorgug has also spent his life making himself smaller. He runs from his anger in a way that's harmful for him.

Fantasy rage is productive in battle, yes, but just being angry is fine. It's good, even!

He needed permission to be angry for no good reason, and I'm glad he got it.

#dimension 20 #d20 #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high junior year #d20 fantasy high #dimension 20 fantasy high #fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #d20 fhjy #dimension 20 fhjy #fhjy #gorgug thistlespring #dimension 20 porter

599 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 2 years

Note

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I’m so happy that you liked those! I hope you’ll like this one as well! <3

As soon as Pyramid Head saw you for the first time, when you were sent in a trial with him, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you.

Your soul was so bright and beautiful that he couldn’t help but want to approach you and protect you for the rest of your life.

Of course, with his scary appearance and that big-ass sword of his, you got frightened out of your mind and ran the hell away out of there.

Since then, Pyramid Head started chasing you during every trial - But you soon realised that he never harmed you, even if he reached you.

He always let you go, if the gates were opened, or would guide you to the hatch and would watch you escape to safety.

This made you realise that he, for some reason, didn’t want to harm you, so out of the trial, you went to confront him.

So you went to the Killer Camp and as soon as he noticed you, he got up from the log and made his way towards you, very menacingly - But that was to intimidate the other killers and keep them away from you.

You wanted to talk to him, but when he wouldn’t answer, you realised there was no way he could communicate properly, so you were at a great loss.

That is, until he signed for you to stay there while he left for a short period of time - And once he returned, he unexpectedly... Put a small, white flower in your hair.

You were absolutely flabbergast and had no idea how to react, but once he turned around and walked towards the camp, you called out a loud ‘THANK YOU’ to him.

He stopped for a second, then he continued to walk.

Since then, you noticed massive differences during your trials.

None of the killers even dared approach you, let alone try to hook or mori you.

Hell, some of them were even afraid to look at you - You saw them run away as soon as they got in your proximity, even if you were working on a gen!

Mostly, the human Killers were affected by this, and they were terrified out of your mind of you, yet you had no idea why!

After a few trials where you were the only one that got out of there alive, thanks to the killer’s mercy of showing you the hatch, you decided to go see Pyramid Head at his Camp and see if he had anything to do with this.

When you got there and saw the big man get up, and some of the smaller killers started shuddering and inching away from him - It was definitely a sight to behold.

Seeing the Pyramid killer in front of you, towering over you, you realised that you had no idea how you were going to ask him about this issue, so you started chuckling nervously - Until the man put his hand on your shoulder and had you follow him deep into the forest.

You’ve never been deep into the forest, especially not alone, but for some reason, you felt rather... Safe with him by your side.

You reacher a clearing that had little fog around but was surrounded by a few wild flowers - It was a beautiful place to be at, all things considered.

It made you smile.

As you sat down on the grass, he signed for you to wait for him, and when he returned, he was holding something in his arms, and knelt in front of you.

He was holding a white bunny that he put in your lap for you to pet and take care of.

You were so speechless that you couldn’t help but look up at the Killer in awe - And you smiled sweetly, holding the bunny dearly in your embrace.

“Thank you”

#dbd #dead by daylight #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #dbd headcanons #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dead by daylight headcanons #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head imagine #pyramid head headcanons

3K notes · View notes

penvisions · 2 months

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 3}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the overnight patrol behind you, it's now time for your annual leave from the roster altogether. But Joel doesn't know that and you're hesitant to tell him, feeling like it would be the best for you two to get some distance. But as with all things involving the man, it was hard to keep the distance.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, sexual content, masturbation (f and m), yearning, protective joel, tommy is a scheming lil brother and we love him for it, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i'm not really back in wake of some bad comments and confrontational haters, but love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A knock on your door the next morning caught you bundled up and out in the backyard, the sound echoing throughout your empty house. It was small: a simple one with a larger than average kitchen, a living room, one bathroom across the hall from the bedroom, and a laundry / mudroom with a deep utility sink and a few cabinets of storage. It’s where you kept the tools for the garden, where you washed and prepped everything you managed to grow before moving it into the kitchen space. But you were on the modest back porch, a cup of steaming coffee cooling in the early morning air as you looked out at the trees that took up a good chunk of the large area.

Dragging your eyes from the one that looked like it was about at the end of its life, a large crack running down through the trunk, you heeded the knock at the early hour. Knowing it could only be one of four people.

“Was worried I woke you for a moment, you sleep okay?” Maria greeted you as she waddled past you and moved into the kitchen. She spied the other cups worth of contents in the coffee maker and sighed in longing. The scent of it heavy in the air, mixed with cinnamon you were apt to put in with the grounds before brewing. But her sigh turned into a delighted hum as she shifted her attention to the cooling pan atop the stove and moved closer to inspect the baked goods settled on it.

“Probably not much better than you, momma. How you feelin’?” You slid a plate to her as she began to pick pieces off from one of the flaky breakfast hand pies you had made. She placed the one she had begun eating along with another before following you to the large table that ran through the middle of the room. Setting it down and pulling out the chair for her, you helped her to lower into it. With a caressing touch to her swollen belly, permission given from her months ago, you began to set up a kettle for some tea.

“Big.” She stuffed a large bite into her mouth, eyes fluttering at the taste of the filling. Crumbs of the flaky crust sticking to the front of her shirt, jacket having been shrugged off. “Olive, these are fantastic. Is there anything in here I shouldn’t be eating?”

“I wouldn’t have let ya get your hands on it if that were the case. Just bacon and onion jam, eggs, a little bit of milk, and a whole bunch of thyme. Nothing too bad.”

“Nothing too bad, my ass. You should totally make these for the mess hall on your next shift.”

Another knock on the front door stole the words from your mouth and you looked to the woman who all of a sudden had great interest in picking the crumbs from where they had fallen.

“Maria, what is this?”

“Can’t I call on a fellow morning bird without ulterior motives?”

“You could, but you didn’t this time around. I don’t get many visitors so I wonder who you- Oh! Good mor-morning, Joel.” Surprise overtook you as you were suddenly face to face with the man over the threshold of your front door. He was bundled up as well, though his hair was wet, slicked back and shining in the early morning sun peeking over the mountains.

“I just figured we could all chat about the Teton route.” Maria’s voice carried from the kitchen. But it didn’t break the stare you could feel as Joel’s eyes took in the apron you had thrown on earlier.

“Mornin’.” He rumbled, a hand reaching out from within his jacket pocket to swipe at your cheek. His touch burned, but you were frozen in place at such a forward action so early in the day. Lips parting as you tried to pull in a breath but you were sure all you managed to do was huff out what air was already in your lungs. “You got a lil flour or somethin’.”

“O-oh, um, thank you.” His hand lingered, the back of his knuckle dragged down your cheek and then the finger curled around the neckline, tugging slightly. Nerves sparkling as you felt the warmth from his hand so close to your neck, you could only swallow as his eyes finally met yours with a playful grin displaying that damned, endearing dimple normally hidden in his scruff.

“Never seen you so homey before, it’s a good look on you.” His voice was tipped low, just for you and you felt your stomach lurch. When you didn’t say anything, just continued to stand there caught like a fly in his trap, he chuckled and asked if you were going to let him inside. It was then you realized he had inched closer, crowding you in the doorway, with his hand still around the strap of fabric over your neck.

“Oh! Of cour-course, I’m so sorry. It must be the early hour taking my manners.” But you knew he wouldn’t believe that for a second, he knew you were a morning person. Something you had revealed to him on patrol. Just like he had revealed to you that he took any opportunity to sleep in, apt to hit snooze an embarrassing about of times if the sound even reached him. You had both laughed at the polarizing tendencies, ribbing each other about it throughout the day. It had been a good one, free of the underlying…tension of whatever had shifted when you had pressed your lips to his injuries. Something you would take back if it meant cutting the undercurrent of whatever had befallen your interactions.

“There’s, um, breakfast hand pies and one last serving of coffee,” You spoke as you turned your back on him and went to retrieve your own mug from the porch.

After the shuffle of greetings, of ushering Joel to take a seat at the table. You plated up two of the hand pies and poured the last of the coffee for him, setting it down in front of him with a small smile before fetching the whistling kettle and preparing a cup of tea for Maria who was already a bite into her second pastry.

“Now, the horse you two lost.”

Joel made a surprised sound, mouth biting into one of the pastries on his plate.

“It was my fault.” You rushed out before Joel could even respond around his mouthful. His eyes flicked to you across the table where you had finally taken a seat, watching as you willingly took the blame for the unfortunate event. “I wasn’t quick enough taking down the Infected that were coming at us. Two of them had set their sights on her, with all the noise she was making while another went after Joel on the ground.”

“And there was no use of anything other than the shotgun?”

“That’s correct.”

“Joel, do you agree with her synopsis?”

“Yes. She acted fast, but there was no way Kiana was gonna make it back, she had been freaking out the second they came outta the tree line, most likely would’ve run off.”

“She always was easy to spook, that’s why she was designated as your horse, calmed her down and got her to focus.” It made sense, Joel was a very level headed person, capable of gently focusing someone should their minds or attention wander.

“I wish every incident discussion was this lovely. No arguing, good food, people who don’t want to go around in circles. You two are truly one of the best pairs we have on the roster.” Maria stirred in a bit more honey into her tea, taking a sip as she looked you both over.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from you as you dug into your own pastry, unaware of them sharing a look.

“This is amazing,” Joel offered, reaching for the kitchen towel folded atop the table to clean his hands off. “You should make these your next shift at the mess hall.”

“I just told her that, imagine the buzz they would cause.”

“They’re not all that special.” You muttered, shoulders rising as you felt rather put on the spot.

“This filling, these onions? It had to have taken a lot of concentration to reduce them down so soft but not mushy. Take the credit where it’s due.” Joel hummed his agreement as he reached for his mug.

“You’re off patrol this week and next, to do your annual thing.” Tommy announced as he sat beside you, his tray thudding against the top of the table, laden down with food from this mornings offerings.

“I can still patrol and get what I have to done.” You didn’t look up from the notebook you were writing in, trying to map out the way you were going to turn the harvest of the olive trees in your backyard into. If you were being honest, patrol twice a week wasn’t so bad with the added allure of Joel Miller. But it would be hard to juggle it paired with the time of year. Every autumn you took out your dirtiest, most ratty pair of overalls and got to work picking the fruit from the trees. Taking your time to sort them, wash them, turn them into oil and pickle some of the others. It was just you, hands aching at the end of the day from spending it all at your kitchen table with various tools. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The kitchen was your happy place. Even after the end of the world. Or maybe in spite of it.

But this year, you didn’t want to miss out on patrol, normally taking the two weeks off to sort everything out and give all your attention to the gift of fruiting trees. Even if…you felt like it would be good for you to get some space from the man you felt in every other thought. The past two weeks had yielded quiet patrols, just the passing of a thermos between hands. You were sure you had overstepped a line by pressing your lips to his face, lost in the moment of adrenaline and want after those Infected had tried to turn you both.

His eyes were heavy on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but searching for what you didn’t have the faintest clue. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to bring it up and let you down gently. Tell you that he hadn’t appreciated your affections that way. Whatever went on behind that handsome, rugged face you hadn’t a clue.

“We both know that’s a mighty lie,” He stuffed an overfull spoon of grits into his mouth, humming around it as he pointed the utensil at you. “Didn’t you say this would be the last year for one of them?”

Sighing, you set the pencil you had been writing with down. Trading it for the cup of coffee in front of you.

“Unfortunately, the trunk spilt when we had those winds come through in February. I’m surprised it bloomed any fruit to be honest.”

“It’s a fighter, like it’s caretaker.”

“Oh hush, tryna flatter me.”

“Don’t you know it.” He winked, cheeky smile growing wider underneath his mustache as his eyes caught sight of something over your shoulder. You were about to turn to see what had him so delighted when a pair of hands placed a tray right next to you. The burly form of Joel huffed as he settled into the seat beside you.

“Mornin’.” He greeted, placing plate of toast in front of you, his hand momentarily brushing against yours before he dug into his own food. You felt heat bloom up your neck and across your cheeks as Tommy feigned a cough to cover up a snicker. Joel leveled an unimpressed stare at the man, an eyebrow cocked and a warning in his eyes. You pretended not to see it, busy slathering a piece of the gifted toast with some butter left out on the tables for the breakfast service.

“Good mornin’, brother.” Tommy lilted, face lit up with something you were hesitant of. Scheming, the man was scheming, up to absolutely no good. And you had a hunch it involved not only you but the man beside you. Taking a bite of the toast, you noticed the way his face twitched before he started whatever he was up to. “How are you today?”

“Fuck off, Tommy.” The older man didn’t even look up from his plate, knowing from years of experience that his brother was aiming a mischievous look his way. “I gotta list a mile long of stuff to do this week and next, don’t have time for whatever else you’ve taken on.”

“That’s a shame,” He took another heaping bite, chewing it thoughtfully as he looked between you both, taking in the way neither of you were willing to look at the other. “Sorry, Olive. Looks like you’ve gotta fell that tree on your own.”

“That’s okay. I’m a big girl, did it the year before last and I’ll do it again this time around.” You downed the last two gulps of your coffee. Gathering up your notebook, you shoved out of your chair and stood, preparing to walk away. But he scrambled, quick on his feet and determined. Joel glanced at you, a parting nod the only indication from him.

“Well, seeing as you’ll be off patrol the next two weeks, that should give you enough time to take care of it.”

“Tommy!” You whirled around on your heel, eyes wide. You hadn’t wanted Joel find out this way, from his trouble making little brother with you right beside him.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” Joel turned with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. Forgotten in wake of the sudden news. He looked taken off guard, shock coloring his features as he looked to you for answers.

“Didn’t she tell you, brother?” Tommy set his own fork down, tray nearly empty now. “Olive always takes this time of year off to tend to the trees. Harvest and make that lovely oil you see everywhere around town.”

“That’s yours?” His eyes danced around the mess hall, taking in the incriminating glass jars atop every other table. The light green contents revealing the literal fruits of your labor. The hours you would spend hunched over your own kitchen table working away on ensuring everything was perfect. He looked down to the warm plate of food in front of him, the roasted potato hash and scrambled eggs. “You’re the reason the town has cooking oil?”

“Yes, it is.” Feeling pleasure flutter at his impressed tone, you knew your voice had taken on a breathy quality. If Tommy’s growing grin was any indication, his teeth sparkling as he watched the two of you across from him. Joel had turned completely in his chair to face you, while you had pivoted your body in his direction. Both of you undoubtedly drawn to each other even in the most casual of ways.

“What are you gonna do with the wood? Didn’t you burn it and mix the ashes into the soil last time?”

“Yes, I did.” You gripped the notebook tight, fingers aching from the pressure. “It helped to reduce the acidity of the soil and ward off slugs from targeting the blooms once spring came around.”

“Well, uh, I can come by and lend a hand. If you needed it, but I don’t want to intrude if you’ve got it all under control.” Joel ran a wide palm over the back of his head, fingers brushing through the curls as he offered his help in a round about way. Something you suspected Tommy had anticipated. It took you a second to process his words, remembering the feel of his hair tangled around your own fingers. It had been soft despite a days’ worth of travel and an overnight stint atop a dusty mattress. You wondered how he cared for it, what it looked like slicked back fresh from the shower, water dripping from the ends of it and-

“Oh, that’s okay!” You shuffled on your feet, shaking the rather intrusive thoughts and not wanting to burden the man with another task. “You just said you’ve got a lot to do, don’t want to add to it.”

“I could shuffle a few things around, clear up an afternoon to come help ya out.” He insisted, something smoldering in his dark eyes. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he regarded you carefully, as if he had noticed the lingering gaze on his movement. He shifted to pull that damned little note pad of his own from his back pocket and flipped it open. Looking over the long list penciled on the page.

“No, no, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to do that, Joel.” You waved your own notebook at him, hoping he realized you kind of wanted the space from him. Kind of needed it, actually. To get the image of his softened face out of your head and the ability to look at him without feeling a jolt of desire strike through your body. Space would probably be good, would allow you to reign everything in and be better equipped to ride alongside him once again. The lines had begun to blur and they needed to be defined.

“It’s no problem, I can-“

“It’s really okay, I can handle it. But uh- th-thanks for the offer.” You scurried away before he could add your name to the list among his other tasks. “More important stuff to tend to than a me-measly tree.”

“I really don’t’-“

“I’ve got it.” You called over your shoulder, leaving the two men to their breakfast.

The second you were walking through the door, Joel rounded on the younger man. The shit-eating smirk was securely in place among his brother’s features across the table. Irking Joel further.

“Shut up.”

“Oh brother, you got it bad.”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

“C’mon, she could really use the help. It’s just her.”

“No one offers to pitch in? The other women with personal gardens all help each other out.”

“It’s the age gap. Olive’s about a decade or so younger than them.”

Joel contemplated his brother’s words, thinking back on the thinly veiled disdain Marsha had voiced to him the last time he had been tending to the woman’s home. He knew you were younger, but he hadn’t anticipated it causing any problems with the rest of the settlements occupants just how it wasn’t the cause of any between you and him. At least, not any real problems. Age was just a number nowadays, if you were alive, you were alive. If you weren’t well, you weren’t. Friendships and connections blooming between people regardless of age and backgrounds in abundance as people clung to what they could in order to survive.

“Does anybody ever…talk about her to you?”

Shifting from annoying little brother to something more serious, Tommy looked over his brother as he chewed the bite he had just taken.

“What do you mean?”

“Marsha seemed to insinuate that Olive is common topic of discussion.”

“Marsha doesn’t like Olive. Never has.” Tommy scowled, stabbing at a chunk of potato rather harshly.

“Does it have to do with the patrol you won’t tell me about?”

“…yeah.” Tommy was suddenly very interested in the rest of his food, ignoring the look he could feel Joel pinning him with from across the table.

“Tommy.”

“Her old patrol partner was someone she showed up with, when we first brought her here. He and Marsha’s daughter got on quickly, were engaged within a year and planning on havin’ a kid or two.”

Joel was silent as he picked at his food. Marsha’s daughter, Millie, didn’t have any kids or a husband that he knew of. The two women sharing a home close to his.

“They blame her for what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“Joel, you’ve gotta ask your girl that. It’s not my place to give details.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“But you want her to be, c’mon, I can see it plain as day.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“I think she likes you back. But it’s hard to tell since she doesn’t get a lot of interaction around town aside from when she’s trading or cookin’.”

“She don’t like me like that. We’re just…friendly.”

It wasn’t friendly the way Joel took advantage of any reason to touch you. From soothing minor injuries, to brushing his fingers over yours as he passed you something, to brushing things you tended to smear along your cheek. Just to hear the hitch of your breath and to witness the way your eyes widened. It wasn’t friendly the way you were the last thing he thought of at night and the first thing he thought of when he woke up. It wasn’t friendly the way his gaze lingered on you while out on patrol or when he caught sight of you around town.

It wasn’t friendly the way he spent hours in his workspace sketching out designs and carving into wood in the hopes that you would enjoy what he was creating.

It wasn’t friendly the way he didn’t engage with you for worry of making you nervous, like he noticed he had begun to do. Stuttering every other word around him and others in a habit he couldn’t figure out was his fault or something you were just prone to do. It wasn’t friendly how he wanted to see if it was just him that caused it, wanted to see how quickly words would fail you completely if he were to focus his attention on you in a more than friendly way…

But his brother didn’t know anything about that.

Never one to miss out on the chance for a slow morning, you allowed yourself to wake up naturally.

The sun was just beginning its descent from the highest point in the sky, peeking in through the drawn blinds of your bedroom.

Your body was warm underneath the covers, sleep making your mind take the sensation and let it influence your dreams.

A large body hovered over you, looming like the mountains around the settlement. Protective, a sight to behold at any time of day, as steady as the day turns to night. But the body was so much closer, pressing your back down into the mattress, making your head spin with the heady feel of it.

Thump, thump, thump.

Heart beating hard as pleasure coursed through your veins, brought to life by the feeling of fingers smoothing over your skin. Trailing down over your belly button and through course hair to find your slick folds. Delving between them, parting them, caressing over your fluttering core and then in, producing an obscene sound as they filled you up. Another set of fingers gentle nudging that little bundle of nerves to light your body up even further, heat encompassing you, suffocating you as they quickened their pace.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was harsh in your ears, roaring loud and with a jolt, you realized it wasn’t your heart. It was the sound of someone knocking on your front door.

Eyes flying open, the phantom sensations of being pinned down, of thick fingers caressing the most intimate parts of your body, of the rasped-out nickname in a voice that wasn’t real were ripped from you. You were alone in your bed, your hands the only ones bringing you pleasure.

“Olive?” The faint call of that deep voice your mind had tried to convince you was whispering sweet nothings in your ear was down the hall and on the other side of your front door.

What was Joel Miller doing calling on you in the middle of the day, effectively splashing a bucket of cold water over you as you realized you had been fantasizing about him as you touched yourself.

Embarrassment and guilt squashed the pleasure that had been consuming you, lingering tingles making it hard to clear the fog of your sleep hazed mind. Throwing on the robe hanging on the back of your bedroom door, you took a deep breath to steady yourself before approaching the door he knocked on again.

He must’ve been preparing to walk off when you swung your door open, his back to you and a hand on rubbing on the back of his neck. He turned back at the sound, eyes taking in the disheveled form you were sure you made in your doorway. It was the afternoon, and here you were in a robe and hardly anything else, being pulled from your bed.

“Oh, hey- you were sleeping.” His eyes quickly averted, a hand waving at you as a blush crept up along the apples of his cheeks. You wondered what had him so flustered, his hands clenching and unclenching just below the sleeves of his jacket.

“I should’ve been up already, it’s okay.” You said quietly, taking in the bulk of him on your small stoop. It was a little disorienting, mind imagining him and now being faced with him so close. “D-did you need-“

“Was coming by to see if you needed any help with taking down that tree Tommy mentioned.”

You fell silent at the way he cut you off, his words low like your own, as if he was frustrated.

“Cause if you did all you had to do was ask.”

“I-I didn’t want to add to your list, that little notepad is always so full of-“

“I offered too and you said no. But you’re not even doing what you took the time off for.”

“Excuse me?” You leaned back from him, worry and your own annoyance flaring. Just because you took one morning to yourself didn’t mean you were shirking your responsibilities. His words hitting too close to the wound that everyone else’s had dug close to your heart.

“You take the time off every year, which you didn’t tell me about. Tommy blurted it out to get some sort of satisfaction out of your miscommunication and you’re not even taking care of the trees.”

“Joel-“

“You know what, just, never mind. I’m heading around back to take care of it for you. Go back to bed.”

And then he was stomping down the steps and rounding the side of your house. The gate creaking open to signal his entrance to your backyard.

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled as you shut the front door and moved back to the bedroom. Dressing in a ratty pair of jeans and a long-stained t-shirt in a rush. Putting up your hair as you walked into the back room to retrieve the axe he would need for the work he took it upon himself to do.

It was hard not to stare, your eyes glued to the man as he expertly wielded the axe and chopped down the damaged olive tree. He had shrugged off his flannel after trimming it of the few branches that stretched from the trunk, leaving him in just the t-shirt he donned underneath. A crisp white that displayed the sweat on the small of his back and between his broad shoulders. A crisp white that displayed the bulge of his biceps as he worked. A crisp white that fell just over his waist and billowed up to catch on the spiral top of his notepad peeking out from his back pocket. A crip white that now displayed his rather toned backside to you free from obstruction…

Shaking your head, you continued to pick the fruit from the others. There were three rows of about ten trees, the one you were worried about in the middle of it all. Your movements made you feel like you were slowly circling around him, honing in on the man taking out whatever frustrations he had on the plant. Until everything was gathered, and you retired back inside as the sun beat down what little warmth it still had this late in the season.

The fruit was already washed in the utility sink, resting in strainers set over ratty towels to dry atop the long table in the middle of the room. A record played in the living room, soft guitar and brass filling the space.

Sighing, you poured yourself a few fingers of whisky and then a few into a second glass as you heard the thud of the axe being set against the wall in the back room and steps heading your way.

“Joel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” You offered one of the glasses to him, taking in the way he swiped at his sweating forehead with the back of his arm.

“I know…I’m-I shouldn’t have come at you like that. I’m sorry too.” His fingers brushed yours as he took the peace offering. But he didn’t drink until you lifted your own glass and clinked it to his. “Just…wanted there to be a reason why you weren’t by my side for a little bit.”

Stepping forward to run a hand down from his shoulder to elbow in a comforting move, you motioned him to follow you.

Through the hours of the afternoon and into the evening, you explained the difference between the colors of the fruit. The flavor profiles of each, of how you always sorted even portions of the harvest out for oil, for pickling, for the raw fruit to be shared with the town. You walked him through the process of turning a small batch into a paste, straining it over and over again to produce the oil. Two pairs of hands slick with it as he helped you after he had asked how you managed to do it.

He had asked of your knowledge, prompting you to admit that it was all learned since arriving here and being assigned to the house with the trees in the backyard. That it hadn’t been something you carried with you beforehand. You asked after his woodworking, how it had turned into crafting small figurines.

And he answered much the same as you. Learned skills to help deal with and adapt to the slower way of life Jackson allowed you both to lead.

“You left one on the table.” His voice was right behind you, having followed you into the backroom. You turned to look at him over your shoulder before going back to placing the jars in your hand into a battered plastic crate. One was for the pickled and general olives, while another was for the oil you would make once the distraction of Joel Miller was gone from your kitchen. The only evidence of such from today’s activities in his hand.

“Oh, that one’s for you.”

“I couldn’t, you need it for trade. Everythin’ helps.”

“I insist, it’ll be good to have in your kitchen.”

“It’s just gonna sit there on the counter beside the stove.”

“Well, take it. Just in case.” You whispered. Noticing how close he had gotten in an attempt to hand the jar to you. He was close enough to smell the way the olive leaves had permeated his clothing. The perfume of the freshly chopped wood stained his skin in a heady way. You felt the counter dig into your hips, having unconsciously backed into it beside the deep sink.

“In case of what, sweetheart?” He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, tongue peeking between his lips as he took in the way you had a smudge of dirt under your eye in the warm light of your kitchen bleeding into the backroom. His gaze snapped to his hand as you bravely tangled your fingers with his own. Feeling your lips curl into a playful smile, you leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“The food critic decides to play personal chef.”

Oh, he liked that. If the widening of his pupils was any indication, the way his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he pulled back a little to look over your face.

He leaned in to press a cautious kiss to your cheek, knowing there was no bruise or cut to disguise his move as anything other than the blatant want for it. The soft scratch of his mustache lighting you up.

Your breath fanned out across his face, skin prickling along his body at the warmth of it bouncing back to you. A small huff the only noise coming from you. His eyes flicked up to capture yours, and you felt your heart lurch. He was so handsome, his lips looked so plush and pink this close. There was no way he could’ve missed the way you had glanced down at them, how you were thinking of feeling them pressed to your skin in other places, of the way you pulled your own bottom one between your teeth at the thought.

He leaned in, sharing breath with you, his nose brushing against yours before-

The needle of the record player scratching across vinyl startled you both, jolting in response to the harsh noise breaking the bubble of tension surrounding you both. Your hands had flown up to grip his shoulders tight while his arms had wrapped around your back and pulled you to him. Heart thundering for a completely different reason now, you cast your eyes over his shoulder toward to the record player.

With nervous laughter you stepped away from the man and set about lifting it from the still spinning record. His eyes are on you as you replace the record with another, setting it up to play and then turning back around to him. Your heart still thumping in your chest as you watch him hold tight to the jar in his hand and dip his head to you in a departing bow.

He made sure it was well into the evening before enlisting Tommy’s help. The forlorn way you had looked at the pieces of the tree once it was no longer standing proud among the others had stirred an idea in his mind. He was going to take the thickest part of the trunk, because he wasn’t stealing it away. No. He was going to return it to you once he had cut it into slabs and let it dry. He was going to return it to you in the form of a cutting board, crafted from the beloved trees in your care and in honor of the namesake you’d adapted.

But it had to be perfect. He would practice on other planks and cuts of wood until he was able to craft one that would be good enough for you. Setting his mind and heart on the endeavor.

Once he was back home with the trunk set in room set up as his workspace, stepping out of the shower and collapsing into the bed, he let a lazy smile overtake him.

He may be tired, exhausted beyond his limits. But he wouldn’t have traded his afternoon with you for all the restful sleep in the world.

He couldn’t get the feeling of your lips against his skin out of his mind. The gentle pressure of them grazing over his injuries, the gentle pressure against the patch in his beard he had never been fond of until that moment.

“Fuck,” He groaned out, palm tight around his aching cock. He had woken up thinking of your lips on more of his body, trailing over his skin in sucking kisses, tongue laving at every inch. He had been leaking and hard, his hand around himself before he had even come to complete consciousness.

The very real image of you stood in your doorway clad in nothing but your robe, the way the swell of your breasts was visible with the way you must’ve thrown it on to answer his knocking. The way your eyes were cloudy, slowly clearing and your face slightly flushed, as if you had just been- he groaned deep from within his chest. It had looked like you had just been deep in the throes of pleasure, body overwhelmed with it and torn away by his calling on you. Hair mused and breath a little too quick, he wondered what you sounded like. Would you whimper softly or moan out loudly, would you be shy and cover your face with your arms or would you scramble for any purchase as it raced through your body, swelling up to consume you.

He pumped his hand slowly now, reveling in the feeling stirring low in his gut. The strikes of pleasure moving through him as he recalled the way you had felt against him as you both rode back on your horse.

The way your hip had felt in his hands as he had tried to steady himself. His mind taking the thought and running with it, the imagining the way he would grip you from behind. You down on your hands and knees, legs parted to make room for him to fit between them, thrust against you as deep as he could, your keening-

He choked on his own breath as the sheer force of his release hit him, sudden and overwhelming. Spurts of pearlescent cum coating his hand and dripping over his knuckles.

Euphoria filling him up with satisfaction, his body humming with it until the guilt slammed into him.

He just fucked his fist to the thought of you. His patrol partner. His…friend. The woman he couldn’t get out of his mind even if his life depended on it.

Catching his breath, he looked out the window across from his bed. Stars glittering at him through the curtains as if they know all the dirty things that had just run through his mind, sharing in his secrets.

The only small blessing of his complete lack of self-control and oversight is that he doesn’t have to ride alongside you today on patrol.

“I’ve got the first batch of the season,” You announced as you walked through the doors of the small makeshift market. It was right along the main street, a few fronts down from the mess hall and the Tipsy Bison.

“Oh, lovely!” The man at the back counter praised, clearing a space atop it for you to put down the delivery.

“Marsha.” You nodded toward her in greeting, uncomfortable with the way her eyes had followed you through the few aisles after letting the man go over the contents of the crate. Another nod to her daughter, standing right beside her with a small wicker basket full of root vegetables. “I’ve got a jar in there for you, with the garlic you managed to salvage from the garden.”

She didn’t say anything, looking for all the world like her voice had been stolen from her. A small nudge from her daughter jostled her and she seemed to find it.

“Thank you, Olive. That was…very sweet of you to think of me.”

“Of course, anything to be of help.”

“Yes, of course.” She repeated your words, trailing off as she noticed a figure across the street. Her eyes tracked their movement but when you turned to see what had caught her attention there was no one there. Suddenly she was speaking your actual name and it roused your nerves to life. “You…do so much for the town, I just wanted you to know that we all appreciate the time you take each year to handle the harvest.”

“O-oh, well, um, thank you, Marsha. That’s very k-kind of you to say.”

“Momma,” Millie whispered, taking ahold of the older woman’s arm. Something in her voice you couldn’t quite get a read on. Taking that as your queue to cut off the rather awkward interaction, you waved at them and began to head back up to the counter to collect the items you had requested in exchange for the crate of jars. Your ears were strained, trying to catch the hushed words the women shared behind your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I realized how…unfairly we speak about her. Someone convinced me to apologize to her.”

“She doesn’t deserve apologies, she’s the reason-“

“Millie, we need to work on moving past that. It’s been five years now. We can all live alongside each other with the understanding of what happened.”

“No, momma, you may be ready to forgive her but I’m not. She got my Aiden and I’m not going to let her drag down Joel too.”

“He was the one who told me to be nicer to her, just trying to appease the lovely man.”

Any good feelings of a successful harvest and two weeks of working countless hours to jar, pickle, and transform the fruit from your trees vanished. The awkward yet positive sentiment from one of your more…complicated social connections going down with it at Millie’s angered words. You tried to muster up a smile for the man at the counter, taking the crate back from him with the trade items but you weren’t sure if you were able to. Not turning to look at the women, you exited the shop and made your way straight back home despite the list of errands in your pocket.

Of course Joel had caught wind of the way people spoke of you.

Heard it from Marsha herself, the source of all your troubles despite having done everything in your power to counteract the bad you had brought down on the town with your incompetence. He had put his own reputation at stake by sticking up for you and you only hoped it didn’t affect the way he was received. He was so important to the town, achieving far more than you in what he provided and brought in his skill set.

You didn’t want him to feel even a fraction of what you did as you navigated life here in the settlement. The pitying looks cast your way, the whispered words of what people felt entitled enough to voice, the way you seemed to only be good for one thing and it was the crop in the backyard of the house you had been assigned by pure circumstance.

The crate thudded atop the table where you thrust it harshly, frustration controlling your movements as you moved through the small house back to your room. Shucking off and resisting the urge to hurl your boots toward the closet you sighed as you felt tears prickle your eyes. They rolled hot down your cheeks as you curled up in the covers and gave up on what was supposed to be a good day.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom@communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

273 notes · View notes

reignof-fyre · 2 months

Text

I'm gonna say it: it's aemond's own fault he lost his eye in both the show and the book. Both times, he snuck out to claim vhagar. In the show, he wasn't stopped. In the book, three year old Joffrey Velaryon was with his dragon because he was an early riser and told Aemond to stay away from Vhagar, so Aemond - who was much older - pushed little three year old Joffrey over and, in his fear of being caught because he knew he was doing something his parents would like, claimed Vhagar and flew her for the first time.

Baby Joffrey, all of three years old, then of course runs to get his big brothers, likely crying and terrified. Because he's, y'know, A BABY.

In the show, Aemond claims Vhagar and with arrogance and smugness returns to the castle, high on the fact that he'd just claimed Vhagar, uncaring of how rude/insulting it may have been to claim Vhagar on the night of her previous riders funeral, like A NORMAL PERSON.

When, in the show, Rhaena and Baela confront Aemond with Luke and Jace, they're clearly upset. Their mother has just died, its her funeral, and their last tether to her - Vhagar - has been claimed by Aemond. They say he stole her, and while dragons can't be stolen, he did use underhanded tactics to obtain her and bond with her. And his haughtiness afterwards, towards the daughters of the woman whose dragon he just claimed, is what makes the altercation his fault.

Baela, upset: Vhagar is my mother's dragon!

Aemond, uncaring: Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now.

Rhaena: she was mine to claim!

Aemond: then you should have claimed her. Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.

Rhaena then hits Aemond, provoked into this by his cruel words and actions. Was it right? No. But it's literally the night of her mums funeral, Vhagar has been claimed by someone who clearly doesn't care about her mother, and he just insulted her. Aemond pushes Rhaena to the ground, so Baela slaps him in defense of her sister, and he punches her in the face.

Aemond: come at me again and I'll feed you to my dragon!

Now aemond is threatening to murder his cousins, which is par for the course for hid character. He always had kinslaying in him.

The fight devolves even more, and Jace and Luke get involved, defending their cousins. Luke, a little kid, is whacked and shoved to the ground, so Jace jumps in. Then Baela decides to help, and she and Luke - both of them younger and smaller - start wailing on Aemond (u go kids).

Aemond kicks Luke off of him, throws Baela off, and stands only to grab Luke - only five - by the throat and hold a rock over his head and threaten him.

Aemond: you will die screaming in flames just as your father did, bastard.

Luke, terrified and upset: my father is still alive!

Aemond, amused: he doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong.

This is when Jace pulls his knife, literally the size of my thumb, and attacks. Jace us quickly unarmed by Aemond, who is still holding the rock, and Luke sees the blade. Aemond holds the rock over them, smirks at Rhaena and Baela, then gets sand thrown in his face and Luke slashes at him wildly, not even aiming for his eye, just aiming to stop Aemond from hurting Jace and himself and his cousins, because at this point Luke has heard death threats, and seen Aemond take on him and the other three easily and win, so of bloody course this terrified little boy used a weapon to defend himself when it became necessary.

After, Alicent makes the situation about her because she's a poor uwu baby (gag me with a chainsaw, I loathe her) and attacks Rhaenyra as though Rhaenyra and her kids were in the wrong? Gurl.

Aemond will then go on to use him losing his eye as an excuse to use his war dragon to chase fourteen year old Luke on tiny baby Arrax and have the FUCKING AUDACITY to look shocked when it went wrong? Aemond is still at fault for Luke's death even if "he didn't mean it" or "he lost control" (he's not a true dragon lmfao)

In the book, Joffrey - who is three - returns with Jace and Luke, who grabbed wooden swords - they won't help against Vhagar bbys - in defense of their brother.

Despite it being three on one, Aemond was winning the fight until Luke slashed him, and good thing he did otherwise Aemond wouldn't have stopped in my opinion. He'd have kept going, beating the boys to bloody pulps. It was stable-boys who had to end the fight, where were the guards? Cole was probably simping over alicunt tbh.

Also, Alicent was the first to demand Luke's eye in recompense for Aemond losing his soz not soz ya uwu Queen is a cunt heh

Aemond will then, years later, attack Luke because of this and kill him and start the Dance of Dragons in full because not only did he cause the events that took his eye, but also the worst war in history, all because he's a little bitch baby sociopath with genocidal tendencies lmfao

Also, Aemond got off lightly, merely losing his eye - do u know what the punishment is for people who attack a princes' daughters and the heir to the throne sons? Calling them bastards, which is treason!!!! Death. Bitch shit should be exuberant that he merely lost an eye. Unfortunately viserys is a bitch and didn't send Aemond to the Wall like Jaehaerys would have for fucking real lol

#pro daemon targaryen #anti aemond targaryen #anti alicent hightower #anti alicent stans #anti aemond stans #anti team green #pro rhaenyra targaryen #pro blacks #team black babey #pro Jacaerys Velaryon #pro Lucerys Velaryon #pro baela targaryen #pro rhaena targaryen

182 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Text

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It's hard to stay mad at family for long but forgiveness doesn't come from everyone. Warnings: 18+ only, swearing, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine

“That was my race line. I had the inside line!”

“Snooze you lose, Max Emilian.” You flipped your visor up as you faced the teenage boy who confronted you. “You're lucky this was just practice.”

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you in the race just because you are my sister.”

“Half sister.” You corrected as you pulled your helmet off, making the older boy's cheeks turn pink at the reminder. “Don’t cry too much when you get beaten by a girl, Verstappen.”

“I’m 15 years old, little girl,” he said as he looked down at you, “I don’t cry.”

You glanced at the backdoor and debated taking your chances with the six foot fence blocking your escape. With your luck you would probably break your ankle and miss the rest of the race season, something you would prefer not to happen.

“Run?” Lando double checked as you heard car doors closing loudly, the thuds reverberating in the quiet neighbourhood. The option was taken as you failed to make a decision before the door opened without a knock. Seeing you tense, he placed a hand on your knee under the table and gave it a squeeze. “Brave face, baby.”

The slap of feet running on the wooden floors stole your attention but they weren’t heavy enough to be Max’s and you turned with open arms to catch the toddler.

“Hello Penelope,” you greeted her as she climbed up onto your lap and waved to Lando and Charles. “You’ve grown again!”

“P, what have I said about running off,” Max huffed as he stepped inside the doorway, stopping under the archway that connected to the dining room.

Covering Penelope’s ears, you pinned your brother with a glare. “Dick move bringing P into this.”

He shrugged innocently as he buried his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Kelly’s working, and she misses you.”

It had been a while since you spent time with her since you didn’t go to Max’s place as often, opting to spend your time with Charles and Lando. Letting your hands fall away, you pointed to the kitchen. “There’s some muffins in there if you want. Are you hungry?”

She nodded eagerly and Lando pushed his chair out, offering his hand for her. “I can help you, P. Want a glass of milk too?”

“Nice shirt,” Max said with a little laugh as he noticed what Lando was wearing. “Did you lose a bet?”

“Maybe I just like wearing my boyfriend's clothes,” he said with a daring arch of his brow. “Is that a problem?”

Max looked at his feet with the smallest shake of his head.

“I have a boyfriend too!” P exclaimed as she jumped around excitedly, tugging him out of the room. “His name is Brodie and he lets me use his crayons.”

You shared a smile with Charles as the two chatted their way to the kitchen, their voices growing even quieter when the backdoor opened and they took their muffins outside to eat. The moment the door clicked shut the smile fell from your face.

“What are you doing here, Max?”

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the race,” he said as he walked into the room, his eyes scanning the walls to see if there were any new pictures since he last visited. “Nice win.”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed as you pushed your chair out and rose to your feet, not liking how much smaller you felt with him standing. “I should have crashed out at least three times. It was just luck that I finished the race.”

Charles’ brows pinched at the news but you placed your hand in his to ease his mind as he stood by your side.

“You don’t believe in luck, you make your own.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, klootzak.”

“I don’t know what that means but I’m going to assume it wasn’t nice,” your mother tutted as she stepped into the room, making her way to your brother. “Hello, Max, nice to see you again.”

“Is it though?” you muttered as she gave him a hug, her disappointed eyes landing on you.

“Yes, it’s always nice to see family.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Max said, completely ignoring your comments. “I hope you don’t mind us just showing up at your door.”

“Not at all, I hardly get any visitors anymore.”

You felt guilty hearing those words and vowed to come home more often in the future, especially since it was a place where you didn’t have to hide your unorthodox relationship.

“Well if he wants to stay then there is something he needs to do first,” you said as you pointed to Max and then your mother. “Apologise. Now.”

“That’s not necess-”

“Just because you have been called worse doesn’t make it alright,” you interrupted her before turning back to your brother. “Max, apologise or leave.”

You felt Charles’ hand settled on the small of your back, the warm reassurance that he was by your side. You focused on that hand as the silence drew out, your mother sighing with defeat and Max staring emotionlessly back at you.

“What did you think I came here for?” he asked, sounding mildly bored.

“I never know with you, maybe you wanted to lose another fight.”

“No fighting under my roof,” your mother warned. “Now I’m going to put the kettle on and everyone is going to take a seat and calm down.”

“I didn’t come here to fight,” Max admitted quietly and he stopped her from leaving as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I said a few things I didn’t mean in anger and I came to apologise. To the both of you.”

“Apology accepted, dear,” she said as she patted his hand.

“Just like that?” you asked her with a frown.

“One thing age has taught me, is life’s short and grudges weigh heavily on the soul. It’s better to forgive and move on, honey.”

“No wonder Lando gets along with her so well,” you whispered to Charles as she went to the kitchen. “They’ll be making friendship bracelets and dreamcatchers in no time.”

“I’m pretty sure I already saw them reading the horoscopes in the newspaper this morning.”

“Zusje,” Max interrupted the whispers with a sheepish step forward. “Can we have a word, alone?”

Charles looked at Max defiantly until you patted his stomach and he looked back at you. “It’s okay, there’s plenty of vases if he gets out of hand.”

“Touch my monsteras and there will be hell to pay, missy,” the warning came from the kitchen.

“I was thinking a cactus would hurt more.” You looked at Max and saw his lips twitching as he knew you were just winding your mother up.

“Just don’t reach for a fork,” Max said with a chuckle. “Then I’ll be scared.”

“Ouch, too soon for a Jos joke,” you snickered and made your way to the front door where you wouldn’t be overheard from the kitchen. “I don’t want to get in trouble for swearing.”

Max followed you out of the house and took a seat beside you on the front step. Seeing the mess in the front yard, he cocked an eyebrow and jutted his chin at it. “Yours?”

You were about to open your mouth to bite back a remark before a dark smile grew. “How sorry are you?”

“Seriously?” he groaned, eyeing up the rusted shears and dozens of plants still overgrown. “I can pay someone to come and do that.”

“So can I, but you said you were sorry and actions speak louder than words, Maxie.”

“Let’s get this straight, I fix the garden and you forgive me.”

You chewed your lip before nodding. “But, if you ever, and I mean ever, say something like that again I will torpedo you into turn one.”

“Sounds fair to me,” he agreed. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I wouldn’t like fighting me too,” you joked before sobering up. “I’m sorry I said I didn’t have a brother.”

“Half-brother, but it’s okay, we both said things we didn’t mean.” He looked over his shoulder at the shoes lined up and knew which was Lando’s and which was Charles from when they used to sit outside his door on the nights they would hang out. “I hope you seriously thought this through.”

You snorted a laugh. “It wasn’t some whim, Max, they were my friends too so yes, we thought this through. I think you need to give us more credit.”

Max dropped his chin onto his fist. “I just don’t understand how it can work.”

“You don’t have to,” you said simply. “It works for us and has for the last couple of months, and will continue to for hopefully a very, very long time.”

“Months?”

You shrugged innocently. “Told you, not a whim.”

“Months?” he repeated as his brows crumpled together and his face screwed up like he was in pain. “Oh, I’m going to kill those lying fuckers.”

“No you’re not,” you growled as you planted a hand on his shoulder to keep him seated.

“Give me one good reason.”

“Because I love them, and I would never speak to you again. Can’t you just be happy for me? I’m not the easiest person to get along with. Or, at least be happy I’m not on Raya anymore.”

“Oh no, this is much better than Raya,” he muttered sarcastically before taking a deep breath. “Fine. Not fine, but okay, fine.”

“It's a start.” You held out your hand. “So I forgive you, you forgive me - even though your transgression was much worse in my opinion - and we are all happy families again.”

“Yeah, totally happy,” he said with a roll of his eyes and you returned it with a punch to his arm. “I can’t believe you stole my best friends.”

“Get used to it, I’ll be stealing the championship next.”

He huffed a laugh and relaxed a bit as he shook your hand.

“One other thing,” you said as you shook on the deal. “I may have forgiven you but the guys aren’t going to be as easy to convince.” You rose from the steps and wiped the dust from your ass. “But you can worry about that after you take care of the garden. Laters, bro.”

You slammed the door closed before he could reach it and locked it with a laugh as he banged on it. “You didn’t say I had to do it now! It’s the middle of the fucking day.”

“Better put some sunscreen on then, Snow White.” You turned away from the door with a proud grin and found Charles and Lando waiting expectantly. “What? He’s still alive.”

The door swung open and Max smirked as he held up the spare key that was hidden under a pot plant. “Terrible hiding place.” His smile fell as he saw your boyfriends blocking the hall shoulder to shoulder and their arms crossed over their chests.

“So you two are…?” Lando waved a hand between you and your brother.

“Yeah, we’re good now,” you said with a nod and Lando relaxed his posture with a quiet exhale that made you smile. He could be so protective but it didn’t change the fact he was a lover not a fighter.

Brushing past you, Max offered his hand in peace and Lando shook it. “You hurt my sister and you’re a dead man walking.”

Making the only promise that meant anything in your world, he said, “I’d rather lose my seat.”

Satisfied with the answer he turned to Charles who accepted the handshake but his stiff spine remained as he leaned closer to Max and whispered, “This doesn’t make us friends again. I’m only doing this for her.”

Click here for chapter nine.

#Charles Leclerc x reader x Lando Norris #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic

904 notes · View notes

hiwelcometothemonstersancturary · 2 months

Text

The order in which each one of the Poppy Playtime's toys called Angel/Player dad or mom, either if it was an accident or intentional on their part:

Bunzo. Boy is rescued after the minigame and IMMEDIATELY goes "mom? 🥺" at Angel. They gently tell them that they are not their parent.

Huggy. He cant speak but he makes a sound similar to "mom" when Angel is facing off against Mommy Long Legs

Mini huggies, because if their big brother is doing that then they should also do it! Which once again prompts Bunzo to go "mom!" at Angel once again.

PJ Pug-a-Pillar follows suit, trying to make a sound similar to "dad" at Angel.

Dogday! It was by pure accident, though, and it happened when they were running around Playcare.

Kissy follows suit by intentionally using ASL to refer to Angel as "dad" when they were taking care of her.

Miss Delight refers to Angel first as "the parent" after Catnap's defeat and forced time out. She's hesitant to refer to them as her parent, though, but she wants to do that so badly.

The mini critters all go "MOM MOM MOM MOM" thanks to Huggy, Bunzo and the mini huggies.

Mommy Long Legs mockingly calls Angel "father". Two hours later she legitmately calls them dad, then pretends she didnt.

Catnap is the last one to do that, kinda by accident, kinda intentionally. He refers to Angel as "mother" because everyone else is doing that as they confront the Prototype, but much like Miss Delight he doesn't refer to them as his mother.

The Prototype refer to Angel as both "the Mother" and "the Father" to the other toys during and after the confrontation.

Poppy, ironically or not, is the last one to refer to Angel as a parent, and only after everyone is outside waiting for the authorities to come. She simply says "thank you for saving us... Dad" and falls asleep.

Most of the other toys start referring to Angel as either mom or dad. One of the mini critters however decides to use "boss" and now they sometimes jokingly use that.

Dogday intentionally refers to Angel as his parent some weeks after the rescue. Angel at this point just accepts they cant escape from the accidental parenthood.

Miss Delight also does that when Dogday starts doing so.

Mommy takes a while to be intentional. She normally uses "mom", "mother" and "big mom", and is almost always super reluctant in doing so.

Catnap is the last one, and he switches back and forth between "savior" and "mother". Never "father", though, that title is for another grumpy parent of his.

Player starts thinking of themself as a parent only a year or two later, once their guilt starts becoming smaller than their happiness.

#poppy playtime #poppy worldwide #save everyone au #dogday #catnap #mommy long legs #huggy wuggy #kissy missy #poppy playtime poppy #bunzo bunny #catbee #mini huggies #mini critters

158 notes · View notes

safety-pin-punk · 11 months

Note

hey queer nd teen here i've been really interested in punk culture and the message drives me to tears but i'm scared of being called a poser because i feel like a coward

i hate cops and i think they should fucking die and the government is fucked and we have to look after each other. but i feel backed into a corner because i'm surrounded by family who would laugh at me and just wouldn't understand and i don't feel like i can Handle it but i Want to

as a shy and nonconfrontational teen with a shit ton of anxiety to boot i dunno. i admire brave hardcore punks who beat up cops and nazis but i Can't Be That

no need for a response but it would be nice

When I was a teen, I was told by my best friend that I could never be a punk. That I would never be a punk. But here I am. I was a shy quiet kid, and I’m still pretty quiet and prefer to avoid confrontations when I can. My point is, these things don’t prevent people from being a punk if its in their nature

Not all punks are the big tough punks who can physically fight those fights. Though they are a very important part of our community. But we also have plenty of disabled, neurodivergent, and chronically ill people who are just as punk, and even people who are just not into violence. They are advocates, they are researchers, they are community care takers. Being a punk isnt all about fighting evil. I actually think thats not the best way to look at it at all. Being punk is about caring for your community. And while ‘fighting evil’ is a part of it, there are a lot more things that entails.

If you truly want to be a punk, it seems like you are already going down the right path. You alluded to a not so great home life where it might not be the best idea to dress in alternative styles. You could always start with smaller, more subtle things. Or you can just wait until you can move out to start exploring that. Remember, being punk is more than just an aesthetic, and while the aesthetic may look cool, it is by no means a requirement to be a punk (honestly half the time I run around it cowboy boots and a flannel - in the winter I usually add the hat too)

You are a teen still. Growing and learning about yourself and the world around you. And so are your peers. Any teen who calls you a poser is being a jerk and doesn’t know all that much about the scene. Any grown adult that calls you a poser is probably a poser themselves who refuses to acknowledge that not every person comes from the same background. But I also feel like it’s important to tell you that what anyone else says shouldnt matter that much. Even if it feels like it does, if you let their words matter to you, you are giving them all the control.

Its okay to be young and not know a lot. Its okay to not dress alternative for any number of reasons. Its okay to not feel like you could go off and fight bad people. None of those things make you a poser.

#mail tag #punk #punx #punk culture #puppy punk #baby punk

663 notes · View notes

bellewintersroe · 1 month

Note

I DO HAVE A BOB REQ👀 it's heavy angst mixed with a comforting ending, but how would they react (whenever u want but in my faves are Liebgott and Roe) to them thinking their s/o (nurse maybe?) somehow died while saving someone or similar, but actually she managed to escape and run and she reconnects with the battalion a few days later? all battered and bruised but still alive EVEN BETTER IF SHE TAKES TO SAFETY THE PERSON SHE WAS HELPING because imagining them seeing their girl that they thought was dead coming back quite literally from hell alive is AGH💘

I LOVEEEE THIS!!! Thank you Anon I’m excited to write this <3 <3

Warning: mentions of death, grief, war, wounds, etc.

Easy Boys x EasyNurse! Reader - How They React To You Going MIA.

Gene Roe:

- Gene knew (thinks) you were in the church as soon as he watched the bomb explode.

- He kinda freezes and he literally feels his insides running cold and a sickness go through him.

- Can’t be real, I can’t express the level of trauma, pure horror and devastation he feels in that moment. It doesn’t end, the whole time he fully thinks you’re gone. It doesn’t help that the rest of the company are questioning him and going through their own grief for your loss.

- He wants to escape it as much as possible but he knows he can’t. He feels like a statue, completely glued to his foxhole, he runs on autopilot and Winters is about to send him off the line.

- I feel like Gene would have a pretty bad breakdown (understandable) when he’s by himself so he’s not showing the full affects of what he believes is your loss.

- doesn’t help he has absolutely NO answers. He plays the moment over and over again, torturing himself by picturing your last moments, imagining himself being just an hour earlier and getting you out of that church.

- Gene even wished he was with you when that damn bomb went off.

- 3 days pass and Gene’s sat in his foxhole, alone, staring at the enemy line. He’s near enough given up, no gloves, no blanket, he can’t eat, cant sleep.

- “Doc, Captain Winters needs you, pronto.”

- He literally feels like a zombie walking to where he’s needed. All he can think of is you, it’s painful, he can literally feel his chest yearning and breaking and his grief is too much.

- “Yeah we found her running around with the I-company boys, got a little lost, didn’t ya’ nurse?” A man’s words cause Gene’s ears to prick. He can’t see anything but a taller man facing Winters and Nixon with a smaller figure, blanket huddled over- you.

- Ugh- feels like his hearts about to explode. Literally freezes and thinks he’s going to be sick. His heart accelerates and when he hears your voice he quite literally feels faint.

- “got caught up with a patient there!” You turn around, sending a presence and both of you feel the intense hit of shock to be confronted with one another again. “Excuse me a minute…”

- All of a sudden you’re limping towards Gene. Your forehead is covered with 2 butterfly plasters and you have a nasty bruise under your right eye. Gene thinks he’s seen a ghost.

- Probably hesitates for a moment before you pull him aside, away from where the other men can see. “Gene.” You’d soothe and he’d let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

- Crashes into you. Literally grips you so tightly, he feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes are teary and it’s not until you let out a small yelp that he pulls back.

- “It’s okay, it’s fine Gene, it’s just a bruise.” Hearing your voice sends him into a spiral and he’s even more careful now to pull you close.

- Holds a hand to the back of your head, practically cradles you with wide eyes.

- “I thought- I thought you was dead.” He admitted.

- “No, I got caught up with a patient. After the church got bombed I managed to pull a patient out, Billy from I company- got lost on their lines for a few days, they took me in.”

- Soon enough he’s stammering with quivering hands, checking over you, asking if you’re okay. Winters had called a medic after all.

- Can’t stop looking at you, questioning if it’s all a dream, you’d catch him pinching himself. “Don’t do that Gene, I’m right here.” With a small hand on his cheek he can breathe again.

- Holds your hands tightly, the most affection he can show you in front of all the superiors. He’s still extremely tense, in shock from the close call, but he promises to keep an extra close eye on you, and he keeps that promise.

- Kisses your cuts and bruises when nobody’s looking, probably runs his hand over his face in surprise quite a few times, but honestly he’s sooo fucking relieved, like he actually cried when he saw you.

- “I love you so much, ya can’t do that to me again, evuh’.” With his little accent and a serious tone, ugh he’s a sweetie pie.

Joseph Liebgott:

- It happens in Eindhoven out of all the places.

- One minute you’re both celebrating together, with the rest of the company and the whole town and the next you’re not stationed with the rest of the nurses?

- The town gets bombed and barraged by the Germans that evening and he’s watching in pure horror. Recounts of nurses being KIA during the bombing spread real fast, and he refuses to believe what Battalion HQ are telling him.

- He’s shaking his head real fucking fast, denying and denying to all of them and himself.

- Throws a fucking riot- until he has to practically run off to be alone, wrenching and shaking at the idea that have could’ve happened to you.

- His anger and violence stems out of control, Winters removes him off the line real fucking fast, like he becomes a runner or something just for a break.

- Fraternisation is banned under all conditions, but relationships and affairs still take place, even the most superior of officers know that. So sometimes eyes are averted and now is one of those times that people choose to do that and help Liebgott through his grief.

- But 2 days have passed and it’s so raw, everybody’s in shock and disbelief at your lack of presence, for Joe he’s bottling up a painfully bitter feeling and he’s ready to explode.

- He never thought it would happen to you, you’re a nurse for Christ sake! Genuinely has to pause sometimes to just stop- like he can’t take it. Becomes so close to being sent to the aid station until one today he’s attempting to run a letter back to Battallion HQ when he see’s the back of a young woman wrapped in a blazer, overalls looking very familiar to your own.

- His heart genuinely gets shooting pains and he has to swallow the urge to cry as he watches this woman who painfully resembles you. Her khaki headscarf is bloody and he watches as another officer (he assumed from Dog) guides you inside the building.

- In fact he’s about to look away, until this girls head tilt to the side. He only catches a brief glimpse of her profile, Joe has to squint real hard when he feels his stomach drop.

- His mind has to be playing tricks on him so he turns away as the nurse rushes to aid a man on a stretcher.

- Slams the jeep door, literally kicks a dint into it as he storms his way through town. He just wants to deliver these fucking letters as fast as possible.

- “No, no, he’s German. He helped me out of Eindhoven, you must take care of him!”

- Joe’s head snaps just as he’s shoving the letters into some poor guys arms. He freezes, head lifting at the sound of your voice.

- “What the fuck?” He mutters, stepping a little closer. His breathing and heart speeds when he hears your voice again.

- “Sister. Make sure he gets to the infirmary, please… thank you.”

- He’d recognise that voice from anywhere.

- Literally feels like he’s choking when he stomps over, lost for words and breath and grabs hold of your arm.

- With a gasp, you stand there, bloody and bruised and protecting some Kraut soldier.

- You’re about to protest again until you come face to face with Joe, and suddenly your voice gets hitched in your throat, a loud gasp escaping your lips.

- “Joe!” It’s you that jumps into hug him first.

- Joe grips you tightly, “what the hell are you- what the hell are you doin’ here? Baby- y/n, I thought you were dead.”

- He has to pull back and hold your face to take a look at you and make sure it’s actually you.

- You can feel him shaking, and suddenly your attention is just on Joe and Joe only. He’s practically smothering you, not sure where to put his hands as he lets out a shaky breath.

- “Holy fuck I thought I lost you. They said you were gone. I knew you wouldn’t, I knew you wouldn’t leave me.” He gets super emotional so you two have to take a break somewhere real quick.

- By that I mean in the aid station where you’re supposed to be being patched up but Joe does that for the medic.

- “God dammit you are so stupid, you idiot, I thought I lost you.”

- “The German officer saved me Joe, he pulled me outta the rubble.”

- “he what?! Did he touch you, are you ok?”

- “He’s a nice man, Joe. I wouldn’t be here without him. He’s hurt so I got a little lost taking him back to the infirmary.”

- “nice guy? Baby d’ya got a concussion?”

- you scold him a little and soon he’s back to stroking your face and pulling you onto his lap, taking in as much as you as he possibly can.

- “Never leave me baby. Never leave me like that again.”

#band of brothers headcannons #band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers imagines #eugene roe x reader

126 notes · View notes

athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months

Note

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a scenario for Identity V? Specifically for Norton? I love the way you write for him!

Okay so, it’s safe to say that since Norton and Fools Gold are basically the same person, they feel the same way about things, including people. What if the reader (female or gender neutral) discovers Norton’s feelings toward them after having a match against Fools Gold and confronts him about it? Like rather than chair the reader, FG acts possessive toward them and teases them? Confrontation with Norton could end in fluff or NSFW, up to you!

Thank you!

Fool's Gold be normal challenge part 2 lol but im mad i lost my idea midway (curse u adhd!)

Rated Mature | Warning: relationship -in psychologist voice-

With how long you have been running your chest is starting to hurt, which does not help the limited places to run are getting smaller and smaller. Luckily, the map is Chinatown and there are plenty of places to hide. Not so lucky, as the hunter is well aware of those places. Not a rare map to be placed in but frequent as the Arms Factory or Sacred Heart Hospital.

With a dash upstairs and your legs give out, your chest burns but your heart does not stop racing as the hunter is still nearby.

You have been tunnel-hunted before by hunters, never for a reason-- Sometimes. However, you have never felt like a mouse in a game of cat and mouse, there is a teasing nature and you hate it. Fool’s Gold can be mean but he is no Ithaqua or Ripper, still for him to get seemingly off on you running away— His laugh loud— Worries you. The costume he has on does not help as he looks like a demon from the seven hells ready to claim your soul!

“Sparky, where are you~!” In a sing-song voice as he comes up the stairs. You go still, your dark costume is to your advantage as you hide behind a mannequin. The heavy footsteps have you holding your breath as you emerge from the stairway. His eyes looked around, his intimidating height towering above everything. He turns in your direction, golden stylized pickaxe but then lowers it as he hears a cipher pop.

“I will be back for you later.”

You have experienced fear but the rush of it never gets easier.

The hunter throws his weapon before using the magnetism to pull himself out of the opening in the store. You dash immediately out the other way refusing to just pray he forgets you.

He does not, he waits for you to be rebirthed by Embalmer's casket. You stumble out still hurt but alive, Fool's Gold leaning against a wall cleaning the caked-on blood on his hand, his pickaxe nowhere in sight.

“Sparky.”

“Only Norton calls me that.” Getting ready to book it.

“I am Norton.” Stepping forward, “Better than that brat.” You step to the side.

“No, you are some fucked ‘what if’.”

Fool's Gold stands at his full height, his one eye glowing almost brighter in this dark area, “Careful, sparky, I can let you escape through the dungeon if you behave.”

“I will hit you.” That makes him laugh, “I have one fuse left, we can go together.” Because you are not above being crazy.

“That I do not doubt,” Closer but you stand firm, “But you used all your tools. Too bad it didn't help that prison rat.” When you actually attempt to hit him, he is careful not to use his solid hand. His deformed hand holds you in place, the magnetism holding it together is used to keep you on the table as you try thrashing about. “You could've left him alone!”

“Yeah? Maybe you should've let me have you.” Standing over you, “Kiting me only pissed me off.” It is true the time he had you in his sights you made your business to be annoying. He scares you! Like right now. Being pinned down on a table with him between your legs. His solid hand traces your face.

“He didn't mark you.” Spoken when he yanks down your top to expose your neck and part of your chest. The marks on your skin are always from Norton, friends with benefits arrangement.

“What, you plan on doing it for him?” Playing fearless but you are fearful, this is the darker part of Norton. The demon everyone tries to hide made manifest, Norton hates it— Hates him.

“Why else do you think I have you here and not bleeding you out.” As if he would waste his time bleeding out anyone, maybe himself but that work he does not feel like bothering with. “Are you going to fight me?”

You weigh your options, “Mess around and find out, sport.”

His grin is wide, His teeth look sharp, and your inner masochist is excited.

He let you go via the dungeon, your legs hurt and you know your chest and neck must look like a mess. Easy to hide until you find Norton in your room waiting. He hates it when you have matches with his counterpart, especially the tunnel-hunting you most of the time.

“(Name).” Standing up the moment you entered, he put down the charm you made him on the bed where he was sitting.

“We should talk.”

Talking usually with Norton means he has to sit and listen and consider things, you only inform him so he has time to process and return to you. However, given the things Fool's Gold— Other Norton—was open about. Details are murky as he is not exactly like Norton, but the raw feelings are there, all laid bare because he refuses to standby and let his other self be an idiot.

The conversation is long, but no tears, and a few awkward silences but it ends with an understanding. Sex does not happen, Norton learning the ability to be grateful does not mean sex. Plus, the prospector is conflicted about how his other self thinks he has the right to touch you.

“I mean he is you?”

“I don't care! You're mine.”

“Oh, can you say that again for me, sport?”

#anon ask #idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv prospector #idv fool's gold #fool's gold x reader #fool's gold x you #norton campbell x you #norton campbell x reader #idv norton #idv x you #idv x reader

187 notes · View notes

kel-lance · 2 months

Text

JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 1

Warnings:

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.

Premise:

Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 12 chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)

Ch/gang guide: so basically in like 2026

You - 27

Rika: 25

Roymen: Zenin: Gojo:

- SUKUNA (39), TOJI (47), GOJO (37),

- Yuuji (24), Megumi (24), Utahime (39),

- Choso (30), Maki (25), Shoko (39),

- Kamo (27), Mai (25), Ijichii (35),

- Todo (27), Momo (26), Nanami (36),

- Yuki (34), Nobara (24), Yuta (25),

- Geto (36), Panda (25) Hakari (27),

- Mimiko (22), Miwa (26), Kirara (27),

- Nanako (22) Toge (26), Kokichi (25),

“No way I’m sleeping for dinner tonight.” You stuffed your hair in a beanie and threw your hood over your eyes. Your smaller frame makes you easier to be dismissed as teenager, people just thinking you’re just an emo on their occasional stroll through the city, it was the perfect excuse they made up for you. Running into them, “stupid brat”, or just swiftly taking something passing it off as youre asking for directions. That was when you were just practicing; right now, you had to use those skills again. The bustling city really tones itself down when the third clan moved in.

No one knows where they came from, but they’re worse than the Zenin Gang. The Gojo Gang was supposed to be there to even them out but with the Ryomen gang, everyone was so scare of them that half the population started to stay inside, that’s what it seemed.

“Lucky.” Some dumbass just entered your alley to take a phone call. Knowing your size you’d be apprehended immediately, but if it’s one person, you could quickly snatch something and you’d be living like a king once again (until the next poor soul comes across your path.) You just didn’t find the use in a job, being stuck in this world that would use you just for being born, you wanted to prove it wrong.

You toss your trash and start walking towards this figure, making it seem like you were just passing them. They ignore you and you smile because this is the perfect time to “Oof!”

You smack into the man in the alley and you get knocked on your ass. The man stands tall and barely moves. “Call me back in 5 minutes.”

The man hangs up his phone and looks down at you. “All this space in this alley and you run into me? Really? You don’t think it’s obvious what you’re trying to do kid?”

You’ve never had a confrontation like this before. What the hell, how did he stand so still, it was like running into a wall. “He’s got me figured out, guess i’ll just return his wallet while he still thinks i’m a kid.”

You reach into your jacket and he grabs your arm. “Are you trying to retrurn this to me?” He pulls out his wallet, you thought you grabbed that? Did he take it back at the last second? Did you never take it? “Or are you finding a weapon. Do you need it that badly that you’ll go up against me?”

“I don’t know you.” You answer. You want to run away but he couches down to you, making you face him. “I don’t blame you.” He grabs at your hat and hood, taking them off, along with your giant jacket.

“Oh? I wouldn’t have noticed you were a bitch.” He was being rough, or maybe it was gentle for him, but this was fucked, you had to leave, now. You try to get up but he grabs your shoulder, keeping you down with him.

“What do you want? Jut let me go.” He’s gotta have other plans if he didn’t want to be bothered.

He laughs like that was funny. “Let you go? You knocked into /me/. It was your whole idea to get involved.”

You didn’t know what do to, he was making shit up now. He tried to lean close but you moved back. I like that. He moves in again and you grit your teeth and try to hit him. He punches you in the stomach so hard you stop breathing for a second. It was awful, god what the fuck was he gonna kill you? That’s too far for stealing a wallet.

“Remember what Ive been saying?”

You heave over yourself.

“I’ll just train you better, your reaction is quite nice.“

His phone rings as you try to collect yourself.You could barely move, much less drag yourself to sit up against the wall. Every breath of life was agonizing.

“Yeah, perfect timing, yeah I was just teaching this bitch a lesson. Tried to steal my wallet just now. Ballsy.” He says while looking down at you.

Holy fucking shit you were in fear. Your legs couldn’t move if you tried. You just knew he was dangerous if this was normal for him.

You shrink down yourself down to minimize the pain barely anything came up but still you were heaving.

He comes over and stomps on you while listening in on the phone. His large boot putting pressure between your legs.

Were you enjoying this? The strange man just won’t stop grinding himself in the right spot, the pain subsided and you looked like a breathless messy pervert on the street.

“Hey are you paying attention?!” The person on the phone almost yelled out.

“Ill call you back.”

He stopped the pressure when you started to squirm and humor yourself into his boot. He lifts you up in with one arm.

He looks at you with cold eyes. “You’re fucked up.”

“You-you” You breathed through hungry breaths.

“Wow, okay.” He rolls his eyes and grabs at you. “Lets see if you can handle me then.”

“That’s not what i meant!” You tried to back yourself away from him when he grabs at your face and wipes it off, looking around for something. There’s a corner past the other end of the alley, and he drags you there, bending you over the wall.

“Is this all you want?” You spit out.

“You’re so nonchalant about this.”

“Being out here this long, it’s bound to happen.” Life on the street, this is the reason why you had to cover up you were a woman. It didn’t help that you looked smaller, easier if anything. It wasn’t anything new for survival.

“They told me I was great, couldn’t even last 2 minutes.“

“Then you shouldn’t be worried” He whips it out.

Your stomach dropped. “What the fuck wait-“

He spits on his tip only and angles it down, centering where your cervix may be. He thrusts in, tearing your walls apart, you scream out loud and he punches you in the back of the head, almost making you black out for a second.

“Shhhh oooh wow you are great,” He grunts as you still find space for him. “But can you survive me?”

Your head hurt, your legs hurt, you can’t do much but go limp and bear it. He was ruining you. His dick make your legs go numb, they just hit you so hard deep inside that you feel the shock in your face and toes with each assault.

All you could do was manage your breathing through this, holy shit this was something else. He grabs your neck with his forearm, choking you while pulling him closer to him, going even deeper, making you cry.

“Aw does this hurt?” He whispers in your ear.

“F-Fuck you.”

He chuckled. “You started squeezing me each time you hear my voice, are you that easy to train?”

You let out another cry and hit the wall with your fist, trying to redirect some of the pain. He stays in you and grinds into you, he’s just trying to make u cum to humiliate you.

He reaches around and kisses at your neck and drops you up and down on him. The rhythm is making you go insane and it feels like he has so many hands with he way he keeps everywhere occupied.

You cum so hard you actually squirt, wait did you? You’ve never done that before so truthfully it was as embarrassing as it was shocking. You couldn’t stop shaking from your core.

“Jesus, I’m gonna need new pants.” You cling to the wall, face tingling, you couldn’t even try out your legs, it was out of the question. You let yourself start to feel, shaking as a wave of emotions creep toward you as you hoped to be left alone in the alley, but he surprises you. “C’mon we’re going home.”

He grabs at you, picking your tired, half naked body up. You wanted to thrash and be freed, but if you risk kicking at his head, you might as well be begging to eat the curb. Before you know it you’re stuffed into a tinted out car in the barren street.

Avoiding eye contact, you sat still in the middle of the packed car. One of them had the decency to give you their jacket to cover yourself up with, but you couldn’t stop the smell, you smelled like and looked like sex. You were just happy it was over, though haven’t you heard this before, ‘Never let them bring you to a second location?” You were about to freak out again until the person next to you grabbed your arms and blindfolded you.

—————-

They drag you out the car and have you follow them for what felt like the longest few minutes of your life. You find your senses quickly, the blindfold was taken off and you were somewhat free again. “Here.” Your escorts pushed you into the room.

You’ve been brought to where it looked like these two girls were waiting to clean you up. Without saying much, they get to work.

At it for a good half hour, most of your injuries were treated. They keep you awake in case you have a concussion.

“You two leave.” Your captor entered the room.

“But her head-“

“I was the one who gave her the injury, I know how hard I hit her. Now leave before I decide to cut alliances with your father, and take you two along with this pitiful bitch.”

The girls hold their breath and take nothing with them, leaving you two alone. When you’re not in a u Jed away spot in the street together, he actually started to look larger by comparison. Do you really think you could’ve taken him on?

What was there to say? What was he going to do to you? Did that matter anymore? You hold onto your belly, tracing over the bruises he left, not being able to stomach another hit from him in your current condition. The large man walks over to your bed.

Towering over you, admiring his work, “I came back only because you didn’t satisfy me. I mean I make you a squirting mess and you mess up my pants? That doesn’t sound fair does it?”

“Who are you?” You don’t dare to move or the ache will start again. “How do you have all this power?”

He sounded amused. “You still haven’t figured it out yet? Or did I hit you too hard.” He flicks your forehead.

“Seriously!”

You’re sure of it, there’s no way someone like you would’ve ever met anyone from the top 3. You had no business with them, you stayed out of their business and locations. “My name is Sukuna.”

As the thoughts crossed your mind, he takes ur blanket off and sees you all cleaned up, of course, still bruised and swollen from just before.

Tearing off the blanket, immediately ripping apart the robes and cloths that covered you, he exposes you and keeps your legs spread. No warning, he just dives right in. You’re taken aback by the sudden collision. His tongue dances around your sex before he starts lapping you up. His flattened tongue grazing your clit then sucking at it had your whole body reacting.

He picked your legs up to get a better angle. His hot mouth felt like it was melting into you. It wasn’t long before he brought you to orgasm again, but just with his mouth. It wasn’t enough for him, he needed more.

Stuffing a few fingers into you, he doesn’t stop and continues working on your clit with his tongue again. Barely giving you time to recover from the sensitivity, you jolted more as he picked up his pacing, barely able to hold back screams.

Riding out your second orgasm into his hand, he looks down amused. “I needed to relieved some stress today, maybe the gods are finally listening to me. But was it luck? Fate? Hm…”

What is he talking about, weren’t you the one with semi brain damage?

The high leaves your body, though you could still feel it in you face. Sukuna takes his digits out of you and picks you up by the face. His other hand unsheatheding himself from his robes.

His erection was terrifying. Seeing it again made your body ache and you were screaming, at least you would if you found the strength but it was beat out of you, before, and now.

You couldnt stand for a second you thought his scar and tattooed decorated body was beautiful. That jawline, his dark features softened by his pink hair, and this distinguishing look in his eyes. Though cruel and harsh, scary like him, there was something else there. Not that you had time to look.

His cruelty brings you back. Shoving you full of his cock, rutting his hips in deeper every chance you think he’s done, he digs deeper. As he sits upright, he has gravity do most of the work. Putting his hands on the small of your back, using that to push you down further onto him. You were getting uncomfortable with this cock warming.

He was just digging holes into you now. Almost bored, watching your legs cringe at every grind. Your face contorting with pain and relief from moves only he’ll allow. He’s enjoying himself enough to almost forget that this was just a pit stop.

“Make me cum and I’ll go.” He says.

Through the pain, unable to ignore him, you ask, “What?”

“You heard me. If I’m late I can just skip my meetings and punish you for the rest of the day.” He threatened.

You pick yourself up with your thighs on top of his, the adjustment made it feel bigger, you were uncomfortable but you knew that it would be tighter from this angle. You’re trembling as your arms are weak yet they were pushing your body up onto his.

He looks down a bit amused. “Do you need some help?” Without waiting he puts his hands under your arms and pick you up, finally angling it right and dropping you down, his head hitting into your cervix.

“Mmm- Ahhh!” Youd cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck to better manage your weight. If you let go he’d break you, you held yourself up as much as you could but Sukuna doesn’t really like a clingy partner. He rips one arm off his neck and uses that hold to maneuver you above him.

“Hhhh! Hhhhahh….” Your short screams had become gasps and sighs, getting sweeter as he kept a rhythm. He grabs at your neck and face, pushing you to face him and you just kiss him violently back.

Pushing your chest onto his, feeling his blood rush as you can only manage to smother his face with sloppy kisses.

With this, he takes that as the go to and puts you back on your back, bending your knees up and makes your face go numb. Without a warning he slaps you so hard you almost rag doll. He laughs at you again, and pulls out, making a sloshing sound.

Almost embarrassed because of the noises you were making without him, he flips you over and shoves your face into the pillow. He slaps you ass hard, your scream silences as he pushes you further in the bed with his dick. He doesn’t stop, this feeling was deeper than you felt before, it was breaking you now.

“What’s my name bitch?” He’s gasping out.

“SUK-“ He slaps your ass. “SUH aH-“ He grabs stir, not letting you finish as he starts to relentlessly buck into you. “AHHH! SUKUNA!” You cry.

The pain and numbness; pleasure and confusion were all messing with your senses. Your cries were like melody to his ears, so much so he decided to choke you from behind. Your gasps and pathetic grunts desperately trying to get your brain some air, it drove him crazy.

He growls and grinds into you as he lays all his weight on you, like he claimed ownership. He’s so deep in you you couldn’t breathe and now you could feel it. He was twitching inside you, and something hot was spreading from inside. This was insane, with the weight, the asphyxiation, it was so much and oh-

Your body tensed up, toes curled and your fingers clenching onto whatever sheets and skin you could find at the moment. He dug his head and bit into your sweet spot. Sukuna’s arm that grabbed your neck, traveled to your womb, lifting you further into him as you came onto his still twitching cock.

“You didn’t do much this time,” He holds you on top of him still as he skewers through you, “but I can forgive you. Rest.” Sukuna stands up and lets you slip off of him, back into the bed weak as ever. He puts his robe back on and looks down at you from the bed. You couldn’t care, you’re just tired from the most unexpected few hours you’ve ever lived through. It wasn’t so much crazy as it was weird.

Dusting himself off, fixing the details of his new outfit, he stands up to leave. You watch as he carries himself with such a highly regard, you can’t help but rethink his status. He opens the door, to your surprise he speaks to someone.

“I told you I wouldn’t need long.” He says to the people outside. Were they there the whole time? What the hell was going on anymore. Was life as you knew it over? If you weren’t already, you were SO fucked.

“When the girls are done shopping tell them to clean her up, again.”

———————————

I hope this is good I’ll prob reread it and rewrite it but here take it TAKE IT// I’ll be working on movie night w the boys next 😈

119 notes · View notes

rileyglas · 10 days

Text

The List ~Pt. 9 - Consequences~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: After a night of pure bliss with Alastor, you both turn your attention to the ever growing list of things to do. You part ways and head out to find a new potential contract but encounter more than you bargained for. It becomes clear that your actions have repercussions, and you find yourself confronting the consequences head-on.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, mentions of blood/bodily harm, slow burn, eventual smut, and of course 18+

A/N: I really struggled with this chapter so if you enjoyed, please let me know! It was rewritten at least six times.

3.7k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 (You're on it!) Part 10

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

The sound of distant crickets wakes you. Though your mind is awake, you keep still with your eyes closed. Did last night even happen? Was it just some drunken dream? Arms pull you into a warm body, pleasantly reminding you that this was far from a dream. Alastor nestles his face into the crook of your neck, cooing as he tightens his grip around you. “Squeeze any tighter and I might pop.” you giggle quietly to not disturb the peaceful morning.

“Hmm then so be it.” he mumbles, still sounding half asleep. His deep, unfiltered voice sends a hot rush down your back. It was unusual for him to actually sleep but after the eventful night, you both were blissfully exhausted. You thread your fingers atop his and place a kiss into his palm. As much as you wanted to stay like this forever, the impending list of things to deal with weighs heavy on your mind, “Alastor…you should go check on Charlie. After the meeting I’m sure she could use some of your support right about now.”

Alastor kisses the back of your head then groans, reluctantly moving from your warmth to get out of bed. He pauses at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. You roll over to take in the beautiful sight of his bare body. Hair a mess, tail ever so slightly twitching, scars and your marks across his back. The perfect picture of the demon you’ve come to love deeper than he’d ever realize. A smile stretches across your face as you crawl over and slink your arms around him, placing gentle kisses over his neck and shoulders.

He leans back into you, “Don’t worry too much about Charlie, dear. I have a plan but it does require a trip into Cannibal Town. I believe you have some pressing matters to deal with while I’m gone?” You tense at the thought. Which matter was he referring to? Lucifer? The Extermination? Getting a better hold over your ever growing power? All could take a back burner to other problems at the moment. “I actually need to make a trip into the city again. One of my…contracts…found some smaller demon in need of my help before the Exorcists make their grand appearance.”

“Then I’ll go with you -”

“Alastor…” you move to stand in front of him, cupping his face as his eyes wander every inch of your naked body, “...I need you to trust me when I say I can handle this. You have plenty to do and I don’t need your shadow babysitting me either.” your tone is serious, almost scolding the demon.

He runs his hands up and down your hips nervously, “I trust you. It’s others I don’t trust. You’ve attained quite a list of people who would be all too happy to find you alone on the streets.”

“Don’t remind me.” you say under your breath, though well aware of how right he is. “Besides I won’t be totally alone - Simon is meeting me. I promise I’ll be careful…okayyyy?” You flash your eyes mischievously, making his worry fade into a soft smile. “Fine. Back by dinner or else -” He playfully grabs your waist to pull you on top of him, laying back across the bed, “ - I will come find you.” he teases before placing a long, tender kiss against your lips.

It was pleasantly domestic getting ready for the day in your now shared room. You look in the mirror at the marks left across your neck and chest from the night before. Angel is going to have a fucking hayday with this. As if reading your thoughts, Alastor walks behind you with half lidded eyes, breezing the backs of his fingers across each mark, “You sure you can’t make a visit to Lucifer today?” he hums smugly into your hair. You scoff and turn to smack his chest, “Behave! I have enough going on right now.” You notice he hadn’t buttoned his shirt all the way like usual, as if proudly showing off of his own bites and bruises.

The two of you head down to the lobby to see everyone but Charlie sitting around the parlor. You plop down next to Nifty in time to hear the end of Vaggie explaining her status as a fallen angel. Ooooh that makes so much sense now…Angel pokes at the already agitated girl, “And where is miss fearless leader anyway? Isn't it about time for another "doomed-to-fail" plan?”

A solemn look crosses Vaggie’s face, “She's upstairs. Coming up with something, I'm sure, in our room. Alone.” Alastor leans down to your ear, “That’s my queue. Be safe, I love you.” he kisses your temple and slips away into his shadow.

The group looks at you like you have suddenly grown two heads. If you didn’t know any better, Vaggie was about to explode. “What!?” you ask innocently. “So uh - long night?” Husk elbows Angel, both trying to conceal their laughter. You ignore the comment and roll your eyes. Walking towards the door you stop briefly behind Angel, “You were right about Smiles.” you say quietly with a wink. His eyes nearly pop out of his head in between choking on his drink. The sound of your amused cackles echo through the lobby as you make your way out the door.

Simon was one of your first souls put under contract. The once prestigious loan shark had been cornered by a group of Exorcists. They toyed with him like a cat does its prey, taking turns slicing him head to fin over and over while he begged for mercy. It was pure luck when you found him in the sewer. In exchange for saving him, he agreed to a soul contract, keeping your secret and using his contacts to help you find others in need around the city. He had no issue being indebted to you as you always treated your souls well - unlike most Overlords. Through the years he became your go-to. As you approach the smaller demon on the street corner, you realize he has become your most trusted contract. Rule#1 B̵̳͍͈̑è̷̠ ̸̻͉͕̎̚ŏ̸̰̩́͝p̷̡̐ẽ̴̻̠̙ṇ̵͇͌ ̸͙̗͂͐t̸̠͙̝͌ơ̴̤̜͐̈́͜ ̵̰̒ẗ̴͖̹̲́r̵̟̓̄u̸̻͘s̴̢͔̀́̉t̸̠̒̿̈́,̷̠͍̞͛̅ ̸̢̭̤̂̇̈́b̸̧̛̖̀̊ṳ̷̖̫́t̸̨̗̥͂ ̷̧͓̳́̿n̴̯̠̑͝ê̵̾ͅv̵̨̤̳́é̶̼̌̆r̷̝̉̑ ̵̦̯̭͐̓̕d̸̟̈́̆̆o̶̡͑̊͘ ̴̼̉̚s̷̢̔͝o̵͚͕͌ ̶̺̙͊̅b̸͉̚ͅl̴͚̣͘͝ì̸̛̼ṇ̸̅d̷̞̤̍̍l̷̛̩y̴̧̼̙̾

“Sorry for the sudden urgency boss, but this guy insisted on meetin’ ya. To be honest I don’t know much about ‘em, all he said was he almost didn’t make it through the last Extermination. Seemed pretty shak’n up at the sudden bump in the next one.” In true gentleman fashion, he links your arm and leads you into a shop.

Walking in you would have thought the Exorcist’s had already made a visit. Chairs strewn across the room, paperwork scattered, broken glass littering the floor. Blood smears across the walls, trailing to the back room.

“The fuck Simon? I thought you said he needed help, not a damn funeral!” you snap. Simon looks at you in disbelief, “I didn’t know he - I mean he - look he was fine a few hours ago. Someone must’ve gotten to him.”

A loud crash in the back makes you both flinch. Cautiously you step through the store, careful to not make any unnecessary noise. As you peek your head in the room, which appears to be an empty stock room, you see the blood trail towards a small body in the back corner. This doesn’t feel right…

Your intuition goes ignored. Right or not - someone is hurt. After scanning the area to make sure the attacker wasn’t still in the room, you turn your attention to the crumpled body on the floor. It was hard to tell where exactly the most blood was coming from. His arms were shredded, one horn had been broken off completely, and his face looked like someone tried to slice it in two. Who the hell would do something like this? “Simon! In here!” You rush to the goat demon’s side.

As you kneel down to cradle him a gasp leaves his throat in pure terror. He flails at your touch, forcing you to tighten your grip, “Shhh relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Simon kneels next to you, “Hey buddy, remember me? This is my friend we talked about. She’s going to help you but before she can, you have to agree to a contract - as discussed earlier.” He was always good at reminding you of the need to cover your ass. Business first, help second.

The dying sinner nods faintly, starting to lose consciousness. You grip his hand (hoof?) and pink threads wrap between your wrists, bounding his soul to you. You were never one for chains like most used. Souls were never prisoners in your eyes.

The intensity you feel from the deal makes your body practically vibrate. That’s new. You pull the goat’s head to your lips and brace for the pain. A hot white fire tears through your arms and head, but for only a moment. The pain that usually lingered subsided within seconds. I could get used to this.

The sinner’s face pulls back together and his missing horn heals over as a nub. The blood that once caked his arms disappears completely. He opens his eyes with a smile, but fear quickly washes over him, “Oh I’m so sorry…you have to leave before he comes back!”

“Who!?” you and Simon both ask. The goat stands, hastily rushing you out the back door leading to an alleyway, “Vox…he attacked me. Said he overheard you were coming and…he - just please leave before -”

As if hearing his name, Vox zaps out of a Voxtech camera hidden under some trash outside the alley. Not this guy again. You step in front of Simon, summoning some needles only to find they’ve become more like thin daggers, heavier and more robust. This power connection with Alastor just keeps getting better. “The fuck do you want Vox?”

He stalks towards you with a sinister smile, “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours, I’m not going to bother your little friends. I’m only here for you.”

“Well, here I am!” You flick a few needles daggers at him. He staggers when one cracks his screen but the others miss, barely grazing his suit jacket. Shit, guess I need some practice with these.

His display sparks, “Ha - I had a feeling you wouldn’t come easy.” You turn to put some distance between you and the Overlord but don't get far. His large claw tangles into your hair and with a solid yank you’re thrown onto the ground. Your head cracks against the concrete, making the world spin and your ears ring from the impact. How’d he get to me so fast? Simon rushes to try to pull Vox off but the old shark is effortlessly tossed to the side like a ragdoll.

Before you can get any form of bearing, Vox grabs your shoulder, delivering a shock that causes your entire body to spasm. Really hating how right Alastor was….

“You’re coming with me.” He wraps an arm around your waist. You feel his claws dig deep into your skin as he begins to drag you back towards the camera. You scream for Alastor in between the pulsations abusing your body. He is just a few streets over in Cannibal Town, there’s no way he can’t hear me.

Your efforts only irritate the TV demon more. “Shut up!” he yells and the back of his hand meets your cheek hard enough to knock you to the ground. Fuck this guy. He towers over you smugly, “That coward isn’t coming to your rescue.” You spit out the blood pooling in your mouth, “Don’t hold your breath, asshole.” An amused chuckle leaves his chest as he throws your body over his shoulder, delivering another mind numbing shock as he continues down the alley. A familiar static faintly rings through your ears. He’s close, I need to buy more time. Rule #4 T̶̴̷̷̶̡͐ủ̴̵̸̷̸̺ŗ̵̴̸̶̴̚n̴̸̶̵̶̜͠ ̶̸̴̸̵̪̊y̵̷̸̶̶̧͛o̴̶̶̵̵͒ͅų̵̵̷̷̴͛r̵̷̷̵̴͔̍ ̶̴̴̸̷̪͂w̵̶̴̴̶͍͌ȇ̴̷̵̶̵̟ä̸̶̵̸̶͜k̷̶̸̶̵͒ͅn̵̸̴̴̸͍̈́e̸̷̸̸̴̱̽s̵̷̴̴̶̰͛s̵̷̸̷̷̤͗ ̶̴̸̴̶̲̅i̴̷̶̷̶̤̕n̶̵̶̸̵̪̐t̸̶̸̴̷͎̾ö̴̴̶̶̴̬ ̵̷̸̴̵͍̚ș̵̵̵̵̶̒t̷̷̵̵̶̡͆ṙ̶̶̴̴̸͓e̴̷̴̵̴̼͂ń̶̵̴̶̴͉g̶̶̷̷̷̭͐t̵̴̶̷̶͎͝ḩ̴̴̶̴̷̏

Every muscle feels like it’s being ripped apart, but you fight through the pain. You pull a dagger and weakly drive it into his shoulder. It only pierces half way before your strength gives out. “AHGH what the fuck!?” he yelps in surprise, dropping you to remove the blade, “You are one feisty little bitch aren’t you?”

Deafening static echoes off the alley walls. Relief washes over you at the sight of a smiling shadow bolting by. “You are much more dense than I thought. Did I not make it clear last time? You are not welcome to touch what - is - mine.” Alastor’s voice booms.

Vox looks over his shoulder at the demon materializing behind you, “Yours? I don’t see your nam- ” His screen twists with sudden disgust. You whimper as his claws dig into your cheeks, ripping your head upward to flash a perfect view of the bruises and bite marks across your neck. “Ho-holy shit…are you fucking the Radio Demon!? This is gold!” The sound of an audience cheering rings from the TV.

A tentacle breezes past, forcefully knocking Vox into a dumpster. Alastor leans against his microphone, nonchalantly rubbing his monocle on his coat, “I believe we are done here. You can leave.” he chirps.

Vox wipes the red liquid spilling from his mouth. “Enough games.” With a quick flash he bolts to your side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders sending another charge ripping across your body. Your sight begins to pinpoint from the pain. The last thing you see is a bright flash of blue, changing the city alley to a luxurious penthouse.

The cold tile below you is surprisingly pleasant against your bruised face and body. You open your eyes and struggle to move. Wires tightly wind around your wrists and ankles. Shit how long was I out?

“Well good morning sunshine! I hope you had a nice nap.” Vox sits in a red velvet chair in front of you. He crosses his legs arrogantly and rests his head on his claw, “Now tell me, how did someone like you manage to slip under all of our noses through the years? Did Carmilla protect you? Or are you just a shitty Overlord?”

“A s-shitty Overlord? Sounds like the p-pot calling the k-kettle black.” you jeer, stuttering through the torturous zaps coming through the wires. He stands up and sucks his teeth already losing patience, “I’d watch that smart mouth of yours. You’ve made quite a few enemies with that last stunt. Did you really think I’d let you off without consequence? Noooo…I’m going to enjoy making - you - suffer.”

He kneels by you and forces your eyes to his hypnotizing gaze. This just went from bad to worse… You squeeze your eyes shut to try to shake his control but lose any ability to move.

“Of course if you promise to be a good girl, I could show mercy. We could make a deal! A partnership! I spare you now and in return, you and those fun powers of yours belong to me.”

You growl through gritted teeth, “I’d rather die again than belong to someone like you.”

“Common, I can give you so much in return for your services. Val might not be too thrilled but it would be worth it knowing I’m in control of Alastor’s whore.” he slowly moves around you like a vulture waiting to attack.

He can’t be serious. “Fuck….you…”

“Oh only if you ask nicely babe.” Vox coos seductively. A snap of his fingers releases the wires bounding you. Still unable to move on your own accord, he picks you up and holds you flush against him. You feel his staticy tongue trace across your neck to your ear. “What do you say sweetheart? Are you going to beg for me to show mercy?” You retaliate the only way you can, by spitting in his face at the offer.

His screen sparks and flashes red with rage. “Stupid cunt!” he throws you face down through the glass coffee table. It completely shatters under you. That didn’t feel great. “Is s-someone a little sensitive t-to rejection?” you laugh mockingly at his outburst. The lights in the tower flicker as he sputters and errors. Regaining control of your body, you struggle to get to your feet. A familiar hand wraps around your waist to help steady you upright, “Go back to the hotel.” Alastor commands, already nearing full demon form. You shake away his shadow as your own horns and fire burst out, “I’m not leaving you.” Rule #3 K̶̷̴̴̸̶̶͙̗̉͐e̶̴̷̶̵̶̗̺͂e̵̸̶̴̴̵͖͂͗ṕ̸̴̸̵̷̴̪̈ ̵̶̴̶̸̶̞͂̀t̵̴̵̵̷̶͎͇̿h̶̴̴̶̴̷̙́̑ȯ̴̵̴̵̶̶̖̇s̶̸̸̶̷̴̤̀̚e̴̴̸̶̷̶̸̘͎͌͝ ̴̵̶̵̸̷̱̉̓y̵̵̴̶̸̷̭͆̿o̸̸̴̶̵̶̴̯̲͂͑u̷̵̶̴̵̸̷̠̞̒̎ ̷̴̵̶̵̷̖̞͂ḻ̷̶̸̸̴̴̓͒ò̴̵̴̸̷̸̷̲͖͆v̷̴̷̵̵̶̤̈͠e̴̸̵̴̷̷̸̼̯̾̐ ̵̴̷̴̷̶̞̍̕c̷̸̴̴̶̛̜l̵̷̶̷̵͈̃o̵̵̷̵̵̸͈̕͠s̵̶̵̵̵̸̨̝̑e̷̶̵̵̷̷̡͌́

Vox sneers in frustration, “How the fuck did you get in here?”

“You forget who I am, old pal.” Alastor slams the bottom of his cane to the ground, sending black appendages towards the TV and smashing him into every surface of the room. Val bursts in, hearing the loud destruction, “Que carajo…….YOU!” He pulls a gun from his hip. You freeze recognizing the Carmine crest on the side of the weapon. Shit, that’s not ideal.

Val takes aim at Alastor who is too engrossed in torturing Vox to notice the danger he now faces. Without hesitation Val pulls the trigger. “No!” your heart drops as you reach out in vain, knowing you’re not close enough to do anything. Your scream catches Alastor’s attention. He drops Vox to see your expression mirroring his own confusion. There’s no way Val missed. Where did it -

Your still outstretched hand glows with power. A silence falls over the room at the sight of a Carmine bullet hanging mid-air, near millimeters from Alastor’s head. He smirks and smoothly slides out of its path to stand behind you. His lips brush your neck and he smiles through a low voice, “Good girl. Feel our power. Embrace it.” Rule #2 D̸̵̷̗̪͊́ö̸̵̶̤͙́͝n̸̴̸̩̫͊͘’̴̵̴̢̪̓̋t̶̸̶͎͓̎̇ ̸̵̸̩̑̋ͅb̵̵̷̦͔͆̇e̴̶̷̮̳̒̅ ̴̵̴̻̰̅̑a̸̴̴̹̳̓͝f̶̸̷͓̗͋̓r̸̸̴̞͐͆ͅą̶̴̵̥̀̾ḯ̴̵̴̱͇͝d̸̴̸̰͑͜͠ ̶̸̴̲̥͋͋t̴̸̸̩̽̎ͅö̶̵̶̭͎́̚ ̴̸̷̨̥́̕s̵̸̸̝̮͗̎h̶̸̷̞͖̍͋ö̶̶̷̲̘͝w̷̵̸̬̥̉͘ ̷̷̶̧̯̍̆ẏ̷̶̸̢̮̈́ö̶̷̸̦́̇͜u̸̸̴͍͍̐̅ŕ̵̶̷̻͚͝ ̶̶̷̙̮́̅p̸̷̶̙̱̌̚ǫ̴̸̶̇̈́͜ẘ̷̴̴͍̠̓e̸̸̸̯͋͌͜r̴̵̷̛̺͍̍

You look across the room to Val attempting to pick Vox up. With a flick of your wrist the bullet rockets back towards them. The TV demon swiftly grabs his partner and zips into a camera, narrowly avoiding your attack. Now who’s the coward…

Alastor’s pride fades into concern. He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up, “Woah what are you -” your protests stop the moment he shows you his blood soaked hand. You hadn’t noticed how much glass from the table riddled your body, having been masked by adrenaline and your now soaked black shirt.

“F-fuck time to -” Alastor is blindsided by a flash of blue. Vox’s bolt launches him through one of the large penthouse windows. You feel a pit in your stomach watching his limp body disappear over the edge and into the dark abyss of the city below. All the power you possess yet in this moment, you’ve never felt so helpless. No…he is okay. He has to be. I can still sense him.

A disheveled and pissed off Vox stands where Alastor was just seconds before, closely shadowed by Val. Their eyes lock onto you. Through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, you hear Vox’s voice glitch, “Time to j-join your p-pathetic Radio Demon.” Val lunges towards you and wraps two hands around your throat. His large hands are unforgiving, demanding to feel your life drain under him. Not this time Val.

He makes the mistake of not holding your arms, giving you the opportunity to plunge a dagger deep into his side. With a wail, he releases his hold on you as he drops to his knees in agony. Time for a show. “We are done here Vox. Stand down. You wouldn’t want to lose your precious moth, would you?” You grab Val’s shoulder and rest your blade against his neck as a warning.

Vox cocks his head at your threat. He takes a step towards you without a word. You tisk, “Easy now…” you press the edge slightly deeper into the moth demon. Weak pleas of mercy fall from his lips. One wrong move and he would be cut ear to ear.

“You don’t have it in you.” the TV growls.

Val howls as blood drips down onto his chest from you pushing further, “Try me.”

A warm hand against your lower back snaps your attention out of the tense moment, “Enough, cher. You are not one to take lives.” he whispers sweetly into your ear. You feel Alastor gently guide your blade out and away from Val, who shuffles like an injured dog towards Vox’s feet. Alastor’s voice roars boisterously, carrying a thick static, “I do believe the V’s won’t be bothering us any further, isn’t that correct?” he waves his hand to surround the two Overlords with shadowy his minions. Vox grits his teeth while tending to Val, “Alright fine! Leave our territory and we will leave you alone…for now.” his voice cracks with a mix of fear and frustration.

“Lovely.” Alastor hums, spinning his cane in a show of victory.

Your veins run cold, contrasting the warm blood still dripping from the lacerations across your torso. Quickly losing the rush of adrenaline that was keeping you standing, you fall into Alastor - bracing against his chest. “Al, this is bad.” you breathe. With one swift movement he scoops you into his arms, “I know, let’s go.” The wrecked penthouse fades out and your shared room at the hotel fades in. Your eyes immediately become heavy, too heavy. “No no no…Stay awake, love. Fight it, I need you to -” Alastor's pleas fade as you slip away.

Voices echo through the darkness.

There’s so much blood…

Alastor, how -

Vox. He took her by surprise.

Dad please, she needs you…

Wait…who? Get out of my way you stupid deer who is - W-WHAT DID YOU -

Get your hands off me! I didn’t do this! Can you help or not!?

I can try. I haven’t done anything like this in centuries.

D-Dad?

Leave us, I need to focus.

I will not be leaving her, especially with you.

You’re the reason she’s like this!

Watch your tone your Highness, you may be King but -

But what? You forget your place, demon.

If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t be asking -

Do not mistake me...I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for Charlie…and for her…

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers

@alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone @ohnah2022 @catticora

@eris-norwega @kaylopolis @littlebluefishtail @little-slyvixen @laudrawin @qu1cks1lversb1tch@diffidentphantom

100 notes · View notes

sand-through-glass · 5 months

Text

Rambling a Commander theory again...

One thing I consistently noticed throughout the story is that whenever we're put into a "worst fear" situation with the dragons or demons, while Dragon's Watch tend to be manipulated on the topic people they've hurt/lost (Jormag messing with Braham about his guildmates, or in Mordremoth's mind when we confront his mother for example.)

But the Commander always faces themselves. This happens repeatedly in the story. Now I imagine that it's a writer's technique that they don't want to tell the player what THEIR commander is traumatized/troubled about so using a "fight your worst self" is a pretty safe bet from a writer's viewpoint to remain neutral enough that it can be built on in RP but strong enough that it makes sense for the story.

But I like to think it runs deeper than that, that this genuinely is their worst fear. That they fear what they're becoming, what they're growing into. It's brought up a few times in attempts to manipulate the Commander that they don't care about their friends. Which of course isn't true, but as a fear? I could absolutely see the Commander being afraid of losing themselves in their attempts at saving the world, that they forget how to be close to people and feel like they can no longer relate to anyone because they've just been through so. damn. much.

Eir in Gyala Delve, as well as Almorra, back this up to me. They could have gone the angle of "you were too late" or "there was more they could have done" to hurt the Commander but they BOTH said similar things to them; "I was nothing to you/You don't care that these people love you."

So it keeps coming back as a manifest, there's no one event that haunts the Commander in particular, it's what these events threaten to turn them into that they're so scared of. So whenever an enemy wants to manipulate them, the best go-to is to fight the worst version of themselves because that's what they truly fear.

Because maybe on some levels, it's true. Maybe buried deep down, the Commander is struggling to relate to the common man because after the dragons and a god, how can you go back to small talk? Maybe the Commander is suffering from compassion fatigue deep down and finding it hard to care about the smaller things now. Maybe they are as chaotic as people say, and they just don't see it anymore because the traumas of war have just all blended it together.

What if the worst version of them DOES exist, just under the surface?

#gw2 #gw2 commander #guild wars 2 #just rambling #idk man

157 notes · View notes

coryothesub · 23 days

Text

Sinful Desires

So I’ve been dabbling in some more kinky / taboo themes lately which prompted me to write this as a special treat no one asked for. Basically I have no excuse for this and sorry if I got any tbosas lore wrong because I haven't read the book

nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / stepmom!reader / stepcest / breeding kink / mentions of underage sex work

You married Crassus Snow as soon as you turned eighteen. Looking back you could say that you were truly in love with the tall, handsome general. However for him you were just a warm body to sleep next to and tight pussy to drown his sorrow after the unfortunate passing of his beloved wife. His decision to remarry had definitely come too soon and you were definitely too young to even understand the implications.

After you received the news of your husband's tragic death, you decided to stay with the Snows, because you simply had nowhere else to go. Just like many others, your family had been torn apart by war and even the house you’d grown up in was now bombed to shreds. Your only options were to be poor or to be poor and homeless so you opted for the first one.

You were always on good terms with Tigris. Daily struggle to sustain the family had brought you two pretty close especially because you both were forced to do the same unspeakable things just to maintain the food on the table and the roof above your heads.

First you categorically refused to bring her into that, but realizing it was getting harder and harder to make ends meet with your own endeavors and after thousands of silent and desperate “I’ll be fine, if you can do it then I can do it too” you finally gave in and introduced her to some men for whom your ripe age of twenty five was already too old to satisfy their needs.

You both didn't have much choice anyways since Grandma’am simply refused to move into a smaller apartment, let alone leave the Capitol. Apart from that and her other weird quirks she seemed to be a pretty nice lady. At least as far as you knew the right patriotic buttons to push in order to stay on her good side.

Crassus’ son Coriolanus or Coryo, as Tigris used to call him, didn't seem to like you one bit. He considered you an intruder, an unfair replacement to his mother that did nothing but reminded him of his family's tragedy.

Over the years Coryo seemed to have learned to tolerate you, mostly because he felt somewhat grateful for all your efforts, but still he remained cold and distant. You didn't particularly mind that, because you had no idea how to raise a young man. You felt pretty happy that he didn't ask you any awkward questions and managed to figure out everything himself.

Sometimes during his teenage years you noticed Coryo secretly watching you while you were changing or getting ready for a bath. On some occasions he even touched himself while doing it trying to suppress his little moans by biting into his fist. You always knew he was there, but you never confronted him. You knew full well it would make your coexistence very awkward for both of you and frankly you found it pretty amusing.

After all, he was just a silly little boy for you until the time his nineteenth birthday came around. It started even earlier if you thought about it. After Coryo returned from his service in District 12 and got his hands on the Plinths' fortune he turned into a completely different man.

Coryo always had the taste for finer things in life and when he finally got the means to fund it, you only saw him wearing tailored dress suits and perfectly polished shoes. Even his whole posture had changed and when he passed you in the dining room followed by an intoxicating wave of expensive cologne, instead of the anxious malnourished boy you had known for most of your life you saw a fit and handsome young man that reminded you of your late husband so much.

Your run down penthouse was completely refurbished to suit your stepson’s taste and he showered all three of you with lavish presents, encouraging you to throw out your old things.

Finally he could have the life he had always envisioned. And every last memory of your humble existence after the war had to be exterminated and written off into oblivion.

Coryo had become confident, strong and ambitious. Some might say even ruthless. It was hard for Tigris to accept those changes and she grew more distant with her younger cousin. They barely spoke, she was mostly just looking at him with sadness and disappointment in her eyes.

Coryo didn't seem to care about that much. He didn't care about other people's feelings in general. But there was one interesting detail. The colder he became to others, the more delicate and gentle he was with you.

He always wanted to be in your vicinity, lighting your cigarette, opening the door for you or helping you to put on your coat. He always had to do a little something just to remind you he was there. He even pretended to care about your opinion, giving you the most dashing smile every time you seemed to agree with what he had actually already decided.

And the weirdest thing about that all was that he had started to refer to you as “mommy”. He had never called you that before and there was no particular reason for starting it now, especially because it seemed to make Tigris extremely uncomfortable.

And it sounded pretty eerie for your ears too, especially because Coryo always accompanied the word by giving you this one specific look that radiated childish naivety mixed with a hint of pure lust.

It always made your heart skip a beat, especially because in some weird twisted way you wanted it too. The sheer hunger in his icy blue eyes made your pussy tingle and after those interactions you always had to go to your room and touch yourself, your pleasure overshadowed by shame.

After all, you weren’t dead yet, you were just a woman in your early thirties and you hadn't been touched by a man since you had stopped selling your body. But for god's sake he was your stepson! You really needed to find some dick, before things spiraled out of control.

One day you returned to your room after running some errands and found a gift box on your bed. It was adorned with a crimson satin ribbon and a single white rose. You found an envelope laying next to it.

You opened it with trembling fingers, the strong rosy scent of Coryo's cologne filling the air. Inside the envelope there was a card with a few words in your stepson's neat handwriting.

From Coryo to Mommy with love…

You sighed and opened the box, finding a snow white, neatly folded piece of clothing inside. You couldn't really call it a nightgown, it was more like a negligee. You lifted the delicate item against the window, seeing the sunlight pass right through it. Of course it was nearly transparent apart from the exquisite hand made lace embroidery.

Coryo's taste was flawless as ever, you had to admit that, but this had to stop! You were gonna tell him tomorrow. But it wouldn't hurt anyone if you tried it on tonight, right? Just for one night, no one would find out, and you would demand him to return it tomorrow morning.

That night you put Coryo's present on and marveled at yourself in the mirror. It looked like a lacy cloud hugging your naked body so nicely the outline of your feminine curves visible through the sheer fabric. You turned around then moved your hips in a suggestive way flirting with your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so desirable.

After pairing the negligee with a pair of white cotton panties, you went to bed. Just as you were drowsing off into your sleep, you heard the door creak before someone opened and closed it quietly. You rubbed your eyes and switched on the night lamp just to notice Coryo standing by your bed wearing nothing but his tight white undies and a loose fitting silk robe. His hair wasn't perfectly styled as usual, instead his blonde curls were falling freely around his face.

“Mommy?” He gazed upon you with the most innocent look in his baby blue eyes. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Coryo had never slept in your bed, even when he was a young boy often haunted by terrible nightmares, Tigris was always the one who comforted him and sang him to his sleep, you were just sitting on your bed listening quietly until you were sure the boy was alright.

You knew full well what his true intentions were. You had to act like an adult.

“I really don't think it's the best idea, Coriolanus,” you tried to sound strict and inexorable.

“Please, mommy! It's so cold and I can't sleep. I feel embarrassed to go to Tigris and ask her for a lullaby, not to mention we’re not on the best terms right now,” he was looking at you, his blue eyes wide and desperate.

“Please, please, just this one time!”

You sighed deeply and gave him a faint nod.

“Alright, just this time!”

To your surprise Coryo threw the robe off his shoulders and pulled down his underwear, revealing his long, handsome half hard cock, its tip looking so velvety and just as pink as his lovely lips.

You were so caught off guard that you didn't even manage to make any protests before he jumped into your bed and glued himself to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Mommy…” he whispered against the sensitive skin of your neck, making you shiver. “I’ve been having the worst nightmares… About the war, about all the things we had to do to survive. I’ve tried everything to make them disappear, but they keep coming back…”

You knew this was your last chance to stop this, you had to push him away, order him to leave your room immediately and never come back, but instead sinful words of encouragement just spilled out of your mouth.

“It's alright, babyboy! Mommy's here and you're safe with me,” you hummed gently as your hand caressed his golden curls.

God, this felt so wrong on so many levels especially feeling your stepson's now fully hard cock pressing against your thigh, waiting for what seemed to be inevitable at this point.

“Thank you, mommy, you’re always so good to me,” you heard Coryo say just before feeling his lips on your neck. He kept kissing your soft skin and teasing it with his tongue, you felt your pulse running wild and you knew he probably felt it too.

Coryo's hand, previously resting on your shoulder, was now traveling down, his fingers dove under the lacy fabric of your negligee and started drawing circles around your nipple making your breath speed up.

“Coryo what are you doing?” Your mind still felt as you had to resist the pleasant feeling although your body was enjoying it so much.

He looked at you ever so innocently.

“I read that fidgeting something with your fingers can be really calming,” he said, playing with your nipples and tweaking them gently. “I just wanted to test that theory, it seems like it truly works…”

You just sighed, feeling your whole body filling with the insuperable feeling of pure lust, your nipples were rock hard under Coryo's masterful fingers and you felt a treacherous wetness pooling up in your panties. You hated that your own body was betraying you like that under your stepson's salacious touch.

“Mommy, you have such beautiful breasts…”

You inhaled sharply as Coryo's lips wrapped around your nipple, starting to suck hungrily, while his hand traveled further downwards. It easily found its way between your thighs and dove under the waistband of your soaked panties.

“Oh,” he cooed, dipping his fingers in your wetness. “Mommy really needs her babyboy to help her out, huh?”

“Shut up, Coriolanus!”

You grabbed a fistful of Coryo's curls and pulled him away from titty to smash your lips together in a passionate kiss, he felt so needy and desperate as he was exploring your mouth panting softly as you felt his erect cock pressing to your thigh, leaving a trail of precum from its leaking tip.

“Oh fuck, Coryo,” you whispered his name against his lips feeling him pushing his long slender fingers inside you. Your wet cunt that swallowed them so easily. You were literally dripping around his digits as you felt the embarrassment slowly leaving your body and getting replaced by a feeling of raw insatiable desire.

“I'm here for your mommy,” Coryo whispered, his fingers deep inside your pussy, curling against your soft walls and teasing your sweet spot.

“I will help you fulfill all your needs. That's what family's for right?”

With one swift move you pulled down your panties and crawled on top of him pinning him to the bed and covering his mouth with your hand.

“Don't mention family, you filthy little boy! If you want mommy to give you a treat, you need to stay quiet, is that clear?”

Coryo nodded and you took your hand away from his mouth, wrapping it around his throat instead. The young man gasped watching as your free hand steadied his rock hard cock at your entrance before you slowly sank down on him, your wet pussy taking his whole length with ease. A soft moan escaped your lips as he stretched out your tight cunt.

You kept your hand on his throat in a tight grip as you started to move at an easy pace, eliciting a series of moans from his lips. Coryo's pupils dilated as he saw your pussy sliding up and down his length making it glisten from your juices.

You tightened your grip around his throat as you sped up your movements enjoying his little gasps as he was fighting for air completely under your control. The sight before your eyes made you impossibly wet and lewd slapping sounds filled the room as you bounced up and down his shaft faster and faster with each movement.

Chasing your own pleasure you let go of Coryo's neck and threw your head back, letting the straps if your negligee slide down your shoulders revealing your lovely tits bouncing up and down as you kept riding your stepson's cock.

Coryo's eyes widened at the sight and he let out a deep groan as your tight walls clenched around his cock, his tip hitting against your sweet spot as you kept moving.

“Oh mommy, you’re making me feel so good,” Coryo spoke, breathing heavily as you were too busy chasing your release to make him keep up with his vow of silence.

“I want to cum inside you, to put a baby in your belly. To make you nice and round full of new life that would make our family complete and strengthen our ties forever.”

In your mind you realized how twisted these words were and that they could actually become true considering that you weren't on birth control since your sex work days but your brains were completely shut off by pleasure as you kept moving up and down Coryo's wonderful dick your manicured nails digging into his smooth pale chest.

Coryo's nostrils flared, watching your boobs bouncing up and down as he felt his climax approaching.

“I can't wait for those beautiful tits to be swollen and full of delicious milk oh oooooh…” he cut himself off, moaning loudly as thick ropes of cum filled your cunt spurting up against your velvety walls.

You rode him through his orgasm and your red nails dug deep into his skin leaving red scratches. After mere seconds you came hard all over his cock and squelching sounds filled the room as your juices were mixing together with his cum. You collapsed on top of your stepson, his cock still inside you and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

“Just let me stay inside mommy's pussy a little longer,” he whispered. “Don't let the seed go to waste.”

“Fuck you, Coriolanus!” You hissed and bit into his neck using his distraction to wiggle out of his grip and crawl off of him making him whine at the loss of contact.

Coryo didn't put up a fight, he just watched you as you pulled the straps of your negligee back on your shoulders and then pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you.

You sighed and brushed a stray curl off his forehead looking into his big sleepy eyes. There was no way of denying the fact that you had just slept with your stepson, especially since you could still feel his heart beating softly against your skin and his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

It was so wrong. But still deep down in your heart in some sick and twisted way it felt so incredibly right.

#alright I will show myself out #let me know if you want more of this though #coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #thg #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg tbosas #oneshot #cts post

83 notes · View notes