#mes del chocolate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fragilefable · 5 months

Text

nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!

Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller.

Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman.

And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking.

You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins.

The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl."

You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.

Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird."

Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?"

The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair.

"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you.

Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck.

Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first.

Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay."

Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately.

Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel."

"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army."

Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway.

The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck.

A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!"

As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise."

The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."

You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance.

Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone."

Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-"

A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.

16 Years Later

The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within.

You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front.

You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive.

You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!"

The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets.

A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?"

You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?"

You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?"

You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home."

Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young.

Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice.

You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still...

You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.

Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know."

You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house.

3 Years Later

Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through.

In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand."

Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse.

Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."

You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know.

As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you?

Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"

He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."

Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?"

Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault.

Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."

Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.

Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.

You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.

If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.

A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.

Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.

Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."

Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."

You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."

Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him.

As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail.

You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart.

The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams.

When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her.

You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think."

You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy.

Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen.

Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere.

He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street.

Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer.

He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades.

You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me."

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'."

divider by @saradika

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #fragilefable #ೃ༄ wren writes

1K notes · View notes

14thgalerie · 7 months

Text

you know other women?

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: my kind of woman by mac demarco / sad girl by lana del rey

• word count: 1.2k

• genre: smut (suggestive)

— not proofread again. i just wanted to write a short one because i haven't been in the mood to write anything and it feels shitty. also this is the last time i'm writing something like this, i just wanted to try it out. took the idea from this request!

“You’re the most jealous woman I know!”

There was silence for a moment. Your thumb and pointer finger slipped under his chin and grasped it gently, making him look up at you from his seated position. Your stormy eyes were a bit darker than normal. His heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now.

“You know other women?”

Theo didn’t utter a word, his silence speaking volumes, proven more by the tremble in his lower lip.

“Theodore.”

He pulls back from your touch. Eyes fixated on the intricate natural curves of the grains of the wooden floor. Tracing every line. Ignoring the pulsing beat that hammers against his chest. He does this for what internally felt like hours that they didn’t even look like lines anymore. It looked like something else, indecipherable.

“I am talking to you and if you don’t look at me for another second longer…” Your voice trails off in a terrifying tone that makes his head tilt up in less than a millisecond.

“Answer me.”

“Well…of course I know them, but that doesn’t mean I talk to them, you know?” The twitch in his speech is noticeable even by the breeze that passes through the open window. The unbothered, amused tone that he tried to emulate is useless as you remain standing there unimpressed.

Still, and locked in on him like he was a prey. Almost daring him to make another slip of the tongue.

His mouth hangs open while he flounders in his position, his brain wracking for anything to save him from whatever it is you seem to be planning in your mind.

“Y/N. Darling. You do know that, right? Just like how you’re the only woman that I even let near me?”

Compared to earlier, he finds a sense of confidence to look you directly in the eyes. When you make no move to recognise this, he takes it as a sign to continue.

“And I was only playing with you earlier. It didn’t mean anything other than a simple teasing to get you riled up. It was just in the heat of the moment.” He said tremulously. Well aware that he looked and sounded like a mess, spilling whatever his mind could conjure up.

Not a part of him could pinpoint exactly what it was you were thinking, but one thing he knew was that he wouldn’t be spared. But frankly? He couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervous excitement coursing through him.

A tiny voice inside his head inviting him to keep on with the constant rambling that surely worsened his sentence.

Deep in his thoughts as he tries to expel them, he doesn’t notice how you have come closer, now standing a mere arm’s length away from him.

“You are mine only. It’ll do you well to remember that.”

The only response his body allows him is a timid nod as you press your thumb on his lower lip, pulling it down. They make a path of tingles as it travels along the sharp features of his face drawing out a whimper from him.

His breath catches in his throat as your hands tighten around the velvety strands of his chocolate-brown hair, tugging it until he is forced to meet your gaze.

“Your touch, your gaze, they are mine. Only I will hear the way you pathetically beg.”

Nothing more is said as you lean down and, surprisingly, gently press your lips to his. The familiar pair that he has craved since it last touched his hours ago. He ignores the slightly cracked skin; dry from the screaming match you’ve been at for a while.

It was slow. Passionate. Desperate. It fueled a fire deep within the pit of his stomach, travelling downwards.

His hands are wild and rough as they grapple at whatever part of you they can touch; your hips being its choice. But despite this amusing attempt to regain control of the situation, he remains vulnerable to your touch.

When you pull away from him, unknowingly, he follows your movement, chasing after that addicting warmth. One that you generously gave as you moved to leave a path of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw.

You don’t pause in your actions as you move your legs to sit on either side of him, his hands mindlessly moving along your lower back to secure you in his lap. Something that sends tingles straight to your core.

His insides were burning him from the inside out, flames consuming him. Intensified as you move towards a sensitive spot, rendering him into a groaning mess under you.

“You wanted this didn’t you?” You taunt playfully, a sly smirk forming in the corner of your mouth. “Tried to provoke me to give you attention?”

To which he tries to deny with meaningless words as his body contradicts them. Thrusting upwards to meet your cruel torment. To feel a sliver of relief in his tightening trousers. His hands, which moved to your hips sometime between your teasing, helped guide you in the back-and-forth motion against his groin.

“Look at you.” You whisper against his ear, biting his earlobes lightly. Tracing your fingers along his chest, drawing lines and curves. “Can other women have you writhing like a deprived man also? I’d be so delighted to see if they can even come close.”

He stares at you as you draw back with wide, unblinking eyes, and a slackened jaw as heavy exhales pass through his ajar lips. “No.”

“I don’t care for them, I just want you, please.”

Forgetting all sense aside, leaving it for future him to figure out, his lips found yours again. Tongue delving to explore the hollow of your mouth, while his hands continue to move you just to feel that fire blooming in his core finally be released. It seemed that maybe you were gracious enough to let him do it, despite the obvious act of disobedience that you punished him for.

The moans that were like music to your ears were pathetic enough for you. Getting louder that he had to push his head against your chest to muffle the sounds that others outside must have heard already. You run your fingers through his hair, something that always pushed him off the brink of his high.

In his desperation, he never forgets about you and draws his dominant hand between your bodies straight towards your clothes core before you roughly grasp his wrist and toss it aside.

“No touching.” You warn. “But-“

“You don’t deserve to.” You curtly retort. It was pathetic, the way that his hand itched to disobey you but he knew that he was pushing the boundaries too far already.

“Just as you deserve this.” You declare, his eyes widen in bewilderment as the weight on his lap is lifted, leaving him with only the pitiful feeling of emptiness. “What-”

You remain silent, casually strolling towards the locked door, indifferent to his wide-eyed desperation and his fumbling hands that seem to forget what it’s supposed to do. The a slight tremor in his voice as he calls for you.

“See you at dinner.”

“You can’t just leave me here, love, please.” He says, a hint of desperation at the end.

“You don’t make the calls, Theo.” You say, unwavering, while he sits there helplessly. You weren’t going to give him a punishment that he would like, no.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott smut #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

2K notes · View notes

drowninglight · 2 years

Text

do you think there’s anything worse than being on your period ? well you’re wrong

#i hate this i hate this #i had cramps and i was craving chocolate #i ate a double layered waffle/nutella/ice cream cake #bc my waffles r delicious tyvm #im breaking out also lol #ive also been listening to the same playlist on repeat for days im sick of lana del rey help me

0 notes

rose-pearls · 4 months

Text

Snow on the beach

I was inspired by the song "Snow on the beach" from Taylor Swift ft. Lana Del Rey. So hopefully you enjoy this!

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Camp Half-blood had been buzzing with excitement since the announcement that there would be snow coming towards the camp in the early hours of the morning. A big part of the children had decided to go home but some of you had decided to stay at the camp. Most of you had spent the early part in the evening around the fireplace in the Hermes cabin talking about stories of your childhood. There had been some roasted marshmallow, warm chocolate, and sticky fingers but most of all laughter. It had been the first time you had felt like a real teenager, without the dangers of the outside world looming over you.

Your plan had been to retire early, hoping to be awake early enough to catch some of the snow falling across camp but it seemed as if Clarisse had another idea as you heard her knock at midnight.

“What are you doing here?”, you can’t help but ask, the Hephaestus cabin had been empty for the most part as all of your half-siblings had decided to go home.

“I wanted to go for a little midnight stroll, what do you think?”, she asks, a soft smile on her lips as she looks at your attire. You had stollen one of her hoodies, and it had been keeping you warm. Her eyes that were roaming over your figure made you blush before you quickly let her in.

“You want to go on a walk in this weather?”, you quickly ask as you try to warm yourself up from the chilly air that had made his way inside the cabin.

“Yes, it will be romantic, no one is going to go out today so it will just be the two of us,” she tells you while coming closer to you and bringing you closer to her by the waist.

“Or we could stay here and keep each other warm under the covers?”, you say, trying to look innocent but judging by the way Clarisse pinches your side you know she understands what you were saying.

“As much as the idea is appealing, and trust me it is, I do want to walk a little bit and then we can get under your covers.”, she says, and it doesn’t take you long to agree as she looks at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, but let me get my coat and scarf,” you tell her, and she waits for you on your bed until you are ready. She quickly takes you hand in hers before dragging you outside, looking excited to be going out in the cold.

Just like she had said there doesn’t seem to be anyone outside as you start to walk towards the lake, some lights are still on, but you can see that they all seem to retire to bed.

Clarisse’s fingers are still a little bit sticky from the marshmallows she had earlier in the evening, but you don’t mind as you remember her bright smile as she told you a story of her childhood. She would go sledding with her mother, every year before Christmas dinner and opening the gifts, it had been the one thing she always looked forward to. Maybe this is why she wanted to go for a walk, you couldn’t really go sledding but at least you would be outside in the cold.

As the two of you arrived at the lake you suddenly felt something cold on your cheek, and as you look up you saw white snow starting to fall.

“It’s snowing!”, you hear Clarisse say in glee and you can only laugh in excitement at the sight of it.

It had been a long time since you had felt so young, the snow reminded you of all the early mornings with your mother as the snow was falling down outside.

Clarisse drags you closer to the lake and you can’t stop looking around in awe, at the sight of the snow while you were at the lake. The both of you start twirling around while yelling for the thousand time that it was snowing.

“You know this feels like a scene from a movie,” she whispers as she once again holds you close in her arms. There is snow falling around you, but you don’t care about it as you look into her soft brown eyes.

“It does, like a scene from a romcom,” you say, and she shakes her head softly in amusement.

“I love you,” she tells you so quietly you aren’t sure you have heard her, but there is that fierce love in her eyes that tells you everything you need to know, there is also a bit of uncertainty, but you squeeze her waist in reassurance.

“I know I don’t tell you that often, but I do. You are the best thing that happened to me sunshine. I can’t even imagine a life without you in it anymore,” her words make your heart flutter, and you feel the need to protect her from anything and everything. She had swept you off your feet at your first duel, literally and emotionally. Ever since then you had been falling for her even more every day.

“I love you too, so much you don’t have any idea,” you whisper, and she seems emotional at your words.

“I think I do,” there is that knowing smile on her lips, and you can’t help but kiss them, the coldness of the snow combined with the lingering taste of chocolate make you smile into the kiss.

She holds you impossible close and you can’t stop kissing her, ignoring the snow seeping into your scarf.

“Common, we should head back before we get sick,” she whispers against your lips and you can’t help but whine at the words, wanting to stay in the moment with her.

“I wish we could stay here forever but unfortunately we don’t have the equipment for it,” she whispers, and you can’t help but agree as you start to feel cold.

“Fine, but next year I am buying the best winter jacket, and we are staying here together,” you tell her, missing her look of surprise at the mention of still being there together next year.

“Next year?”, she can’t help but ask as you stop in your steps.

“Of course, and every year after that until we need to leave Camp Half-blood and then we can find a fun sledding spot. Unless you want to spend the holidays with your mother, which I completely understand,” you get ready to continue to ramble about the possibilities before you get cut off by a searing kiss.

“I love you so much,” she says, and you look at her in surprise before a warm smile appears on your lips.

“And I love you,” you tell her before taking her hand in yours and starting the walk back to your cabin while chatting about possible sledding spots.

#percy jackson x reader #percy series #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #clarrise la rue #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x fem reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue imagine

553 notes · View notes

diordeer · 3 months

Text

౨ৎ SWEET

“if you want someone, then just call me up, and remember where I'll be: sweet in bare feet, you can find me where no one will be” - lana del rey (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x fem!reader, who is literally just a cutie pie and everyone loves her, face claim is shay rudolph

description: guys i need to stop playing safe bc i was dming this guy but then ghosted him bc hes a bit of a pathological liar but like… he kinda cute

requested by: @tomblythsslut

Liked by leahsavajeffries, iamcharliebushnell and others

yn.ln 🐱🐱

View all comments.

user1 shes so real for practically mainly only posting pics of her cat

↳ yn.ln he’s my muse and also runs the cult… that im- um in 😊

↳ user2 this is so real, every cat is borderline terrifying

↳ yn.ln he attacks me WHILE i cuddle him but gets mad when i go away like make it make sense

↳ user4 yn is my muse

user3 i literally love her shes so cute

iamcharliebushnell i am terrified of your cat i think i get ptsd whenever i see a pic from him after last time

↳ yn.ln WHAT?! he loves u rly 🩷🩷

user5 yn and her cat is my roman empire

dior.n.goodjohn the angle in the last pic is KILLING me

↳ yn.ln wdym he always looks like that 🤷‍♀️

Liked by dior.n.goodjohn, walker.scobell and others

yn.ln 0.5s on set (+ dior 😘)

tagged walker.scobell, dior.n.goodjohn, leahsavajeffries

View all comments.

walker.scobell i cant believe u cut me out!!

↳ yn.ln i thought putting u on the cover would make up for it 😣

↳ aryansimhadri WHAT AB ME

↳ yn.ln ill star you next time im so sorry 😔

user1 she knows what the fandom wants and feeds us gourmet meals

leahsavajeffries charlies glasses 4 life

↳ iamcharliebushnell moneys well spent

↳ yn.ln i still need to have a go with them 😣

↳ iamcharliebushnell ok bet ill bring them next week

user2 whats happening next week!

↳ user3 girl shut up leave them alone

↳ user2 ummm..?

dior.n.goodjohn i cant believe i get the starring role in this post

↳ yn.ln ofc pooks 😘

yn.ln just posted on their story

Seen by dior.n.goodjohn, walker.scobell and others

Liked by dior.n.goodjohn, aryansimhadri and others

yn.ln ice cream with my pookie pies!! <3

View all comments.

user1 WHO IS THIS WHO IS THIS

↳ user2 whoever it is better be some dream guy bc NOTHING can happen to yn

leahsavajeffries u can never go wrong with mint choc chip!

↳ yn.ln exactly!!!!!

user8 POOKIE PIES

aryansimhadri im still waiting for my feature !!

↳ yn.ln NEXT POST I PROMISE 🙏🙏🙏

user3 guys ik this is a stretch BUT she did call charlie a cutie on her story

↳ user4 yeah but i feel like she would call everyone that

↳ user5 OK BUT IF THEY WERE TOGETHER THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE

↳ user6 ok onto this theory charlie literally posted on the comments of her last post that they were seeing eachover next week AKA THIS WEEK!!!

↳ user7 oh my god oh my god oh my god

aryansimhadri pookie nation!!!

↳ yn.ln going strong 🫡

iamcharliebushnell i cant believe you would get mint choc chip when chocolate was the obvious choice

↳ yn.ln excuse me 😃

↳ user6 “WAS”?

↳ user2 y’all reading into stuff like maniacs

taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #social media au #smau #aesthetic #charlie bushnell #in the know #x reader #instagram

777 notes · View notes

pynkgothicka · 3 months

Note

Hey!

I love ur blog and ur writing they

Soo good can I request a yandere husband taehyung x reader where it's the typical wife worship husband kind lf thing also can u pls make him really dark too with a non-con

Sorry if it's too much

Love ya

ＭｉｌｌｉｏｎＤｏｌｌａｒＭａｎＫＴＨ

Pairing - Dark! Husband! Kim Taehyung x AFAB! Reader

Featuring - None!

Word Count - Around 1.8k

Tags and Warnings - Domestic Violence, Non-Con, Breeding Kink, Mentions of blood, forest sex scene, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Allusions to kidnapping

Authors Note - Late Valetines Day story! This is my last req!! Sooo some more personal inspiered stuff coming soon! Also please let me know if you guys like the longer more descriptive fics.

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

He was your world, your everything.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Soon, you found yourself having to repeat these thoughts, constantly reminding yourself of them, almost blinding yourself to the harsh reality of just how miserable you had become.

You cut potatoes, sprinkling herbal seasoning on top. You put them in a pan and cover them with virgin olive oil. Placing the pan in the oven, you set a timer.

The beep reminded you of the constant threats and warnings he provided. He required dinner to be prepared by the time he returned home from work every day. Especially today, Valentine's Day. The day you are supposed to be the most appreciative of what Kim Taehyung has given you.

During your cleanup, you suddenly felt a pair of hands encircle your waist, and a broad nose press against your neck. You instinctively leaned into the touch, fully aware of who it was. "Hello, my love," he murmured, his warm breath gently caressing your neck.

"Hello, how was your day at work?" You inquire, speaking softly with a touch of sweetness. He grunted, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter. "Did you have a tough day?”

Taehyung uttered dismissively, "They were just bothering me, honestly. All I wanted was to be back home with you." He says, planting a kiss on your neck once more. You could feel his cock harden against the curve of your back. You shivered noticeably. His black hair brushed against your neck. "Are you cold baby?”

You glance downwards and shake your head. "No... Your hair just tickled me a little bit.”

Taehyung nodded to himself as he responded, "I brought you some beautiful roses and your favorite chocolates." He lamented slightly, his hips pressing against your back. You stayed quiet. "What do you say?”

“Thank you… I-I’m making dinner… I’m sorry I couldn't get you anything more.” You apologized. But you both knew the reason why.

You had no access to your funds.

No access to a vehicle to leave.

No knowledge of where you lived.

Not even the luxury of owning a phone or the login to any of the house's computers.

Yet Taehyung cooed. “It's okay, I know you love me. I don't need all that stuff.”

Shit. Not even light gaslighting could make him feel sorry and give you more privileges. You nod in agreement as he speaks. “I’m going to get cleaned up for dinner. Don’t wait on cleaning, you know I hate having a dirty kitchen.” Taehyung walks away, gesturing towards the mess on the kitchen counter.

“It’ll get cleaned. I promise.”

💲

After dinner, you prepared to go to bed. You'd expected Taehyung to be asleep by now, but he was up. Book in hand he lay in bed, his nightwear glasses making him look as sophisticated as ever. You gulped, walking towards the bed and crawling in. Crawling into bed next to him, you asked, “Aren't you sleepy yet?”

“No, I can't calm my mind," he stated abruptly. You could tell he was upset at something. It was something you had to pick up on, being with him. He was too emotional, his mood swings frightening you at times. “Where is my laptop?”

Of course that's what it was.

Desperation drove you to try and access Taehyung's laptop. He had left it unattended and you saw it as a chance to try and discover your location. The day you married Taehyung, he had swept you off your feet and whisked you away to an unknown place, leaving you with no knowledge of where you were or how to escape.

The house was nestled in a dense forest, surrounded by trees as far as the eye could see. Sometimes, you would gaze out the window, searching for signs of life in the distance. But all you ever saw was the endless expanse of darkness, an eerie stillness that only made you fear Taehyung more.

The computer taunts you with every failed login attempt, each one feeling like a slap in the face. Frustration and desperation build as you frantically try every password you can think of until finally, with a loud beep, the screen displays "Access Denied." Fury bubbles up inside of you as you realize you've been locked out. Trembling with anger, you snatch the computer and hide it away, unable to face another rejection from this merciless machine.

The silence between you two is deafening.

He flips a page in the book he was reading, seemingly calm but you know better. You can feel his eyes boring into you

"Why are you so quiet?" he questioned, flipping a page in his book. "I know you did something - you turned off the cameras. I received a notification on my phone.”

Quietly, you mustered up the courage to reply. “I-I wanted to…”

"What did you want? To abandon me? On Valentine's Day? After everything I've done for you? After everything I've sacrificed for you?" Taehyung bombarded you with questions, and you couldn't make sense of them. He slammed his book shut and got right in your face. His hands aggressively pulled at the bottom of your nightgown, as if trying to search you for something. You let out a gasp and fought back by kicking at him.

Then you got him. Your foot connecting with his face.

Taehyung jerked back, sitting up abruptly. A metallic taste floods his mouth as he runs his tongue over his now split and bleeding upper lip. “Won't you look at that…”

“T-Tae… I-I’m sorry. Please, I didn't mean it. I-I can pa-” But before you could finish, his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off your words and squeezing tightly. The impact of your head hitting the wooden headboard sends a jolt of pain through your skull, but it's nothing compared to the fear that grips you as one of his hands grips your throat, his face twisted in a violent rage. Taehyung's grip tightened as he knelt over you, both hands now grasping at your neck.

“What was that for huh? I thought I broke you in… but obviously I didn't do a good enough job huh?” With each point he wanted to get across, he lifted your head and slammed it into the bed. You tried to fight him off, desperately scratching at his arm with your anxiously bitten nails. With each brutal blow, your vision became spotty and distorted until you spotted the vase of roses nearby. The ones he had just brought for you. Without hesitation, you grabbed it and brought it down upon his skull, shattering the delicate glass and sending shards and water flying.

You had only a few seconds to get away.

Your feet thudded against the soft carpet as you sprinted out of the bedroom. Gasping for air, you knew there was no time to stop and catch your breath. Every second counted as you tried to make up for what had been lost.

Racing to the living room, you shoved your feet into house slippers and tore out of the door, darting into the dense woods that surrounded the home. Branches whipped and sliced at you, as you climbed over fallen debris. The idea of stopping flashed through your mind, but you knew you had to follow through.

Trying to see through the minimal amount of light was nearly impossible. The darkness consumed the woods, with only the moon's glow and the trees creating harsh shapes on the forest floor. "Baby! Where did you go? I'm sorry!”

His voice. It was too close, sending a chill down your spine. You quickly ducked behind a towering tree, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to steady your ragged breaths. One hand clamped over your mouth to stifle any noise, the other clenched into a tight fist. "Fuck," Taehyung's voice taunts, followed by the sound of his footsteps approaching. "You got me good, but don't worry. But I can be better okay? We can drop this entire thing and go back to bed…” Taehyung's voice was next to you.

But you aren't falling for that. He wanted you to feel bad. Taehyung's predatory steps echo behind you, coming closer and closer until a vice-like grip seizes your hair, yanking you down to the ground. “I thought we talked about this? This running away shit,” he spat.

"Tae, please, let's just go home... I'm sorry! I promise I won't run again, just please-" Your pleas fall on deaf ears as Taehyung circles around you, his imposing figure casting a looming shadow, pinning you to the dirt and making you feel utterly helpless, the dirt making you feel grimy. You could hear him pull down his pajama pants and you began to cry out. As you struggle to break free, Taehyung's grip tightens and he slams your shoulder back into the ground with a sickening thud. Tears stream down your face as you realize there is no escape from this nightmare.

His hand went to his mouth as he sucked on his middle and index finger. With his other hand, he roughly yanked up your gown until it tore at the seams. You screamed and cried, squeezing your eyes shut in desperate prayer, hoping against hope that this was all just a twisted nightmare inflicted by cruel and malevolent gods.

A shrill cry escapes your lips as your husband rips off your panties and plunges his fingers inside you. They skillfully find your sweet spot, causing you to moan in pleasure. “Already creaming around my fingers, fuck, that's so sexy,” he growls, a mix of desire and dominance in his voice. His head lowers to kiss you messily, leaving a trail of spit on your frightened face. His tongue invades your mouth, despite your attempts to protest.

With the sudden absence of his fingers came the sudden intrusion of his length.

The force of Taehyung's thrusts feels like a battering ram, relentlessly pummeling into you until your body is split in two. Your gasps turn into desperate cries of shock and agony as he continues to ravage you, his lips locked onto yours in a twisted display of affection.

It all left you gasping for air.

Your screams of agony were muffled by Taehyung's unrelenting kisses as he pounded into you mercilessly. You claw and beg for him to stop, tears mingling with the dirt beneath you as he continues to take what he wants from your menatlly broken body.

He persisted, driven by his ultimate goal to finish inside you. His desire was to take control of you, impregnate you with his child.

As you rolled your eyes back in pure ecstasy, Taehyung's cock became coated in slick, sticky cum. The sight only heightened his own arousal and soon he was filling you to the brim with his hot release. Taehyung had a dazed yet blissful look on his face as he gazed at you.

“Don’t turn off those cameras again.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops @mayvalentine33

303 notes · View notes

olee · 4 months

Text

Uma & Ada | Enzo Vogrincic

Para: los amantes de gatitos!

Pasaste toda la noche estudiando para tu examen de medicina y olvidaste por completo que dejaste la puerta del balcón abierta. Te quedaste dormido en el escritorio de tu apartamento y, honestamente, nada te importaba, ya que estabas sumamente cansado.

Al día siguiente, te despiertas y encuentras tu apartamento hecho un desastre. Los sillones están rayados y rasgados, tus cojines están rotos, las plantas están destruidas y el piso está lleno de tierra. Además, parece que hay excrementos.

Estás al borde de un ataque de nervios, gritando por la ansiedad y el horror de tu apartamento. Despeinada, con pijama y tus pantuflas de tortuga, te das cuenta de algo increíble: ¡descubres huellas de gatos que parecen haber organizado una fiesta de destrucción en tu hogar! Parece que tus cojines han sido sus juguetes y tus plantas, sus campos de batalla.

Decides seguir las huellas caóticas que te llevan directo al baño. A medida que te acercas, escuchas un estruendoso "miau", o más bien, varios "miaus" en un coro afinado de caos felino. Al abrir la puerta del baño, te encuentras con la escena surrealista de dos gatos relajándose en la bañera como si fuera su propio spa exclusivo. Parece que la fiesta de destrucción ha alcanzado su clímax acuático. ¡Estos felinos saben cómo disfrutar de la vida en tu ausencia!

Después de recoger a los dos gatos de la bañera, escuchas un insistente golpeteo en la puerta de tu apartamento. Ahí estás, en pijama, con pantuflas de tortugas, sosteniendo a los gatos como si fueran tu nueva adquisición. Te acercas a la puerta y, sin abrirla, gritas: "¡¿Qué quieres?! ¡Estoy sumamente ocupada, lo siento, nada de sermones hoy!"

Pero la situación se complica cuando escuchas la voz de un hombre diciendo: "No encuentro a mis bebés, Uma y Ada." Sin entender del todo, le respondes de manera un tanto brusca: "Pues, amor, ve a la policía, no a mí." Sin embargo, él insiste: "Ellas son peluditas y chiquitas." Con un suspiro, abres la puerta para escuchar mejor y, en un instante, el hombre exclama emocionado: "¡Uma! ¡Ada!"

Pero cuando lo ves, te quedas en blanco. Ese hombre es sorprendentemente atractivo, con su tez de canela, ojos que podrían derretir chocolate, cabello despeinado con encanto, y una nariz extravagante.

Después del impactante encuentro, te quedas paralizada por un momento, sin saber cómo reaccionar frente a la repentina aparición de este hombre increíblemente atractivo. Él te mira con sorpresa y una sonrisa amigable, sin dejar de buscar a sus gatos peluditos.

Tú, aún en pijama y con tus pantuflas de tortugas, intentas recuperar la compostura y le dices con un tono desconcertado: "Ehm, ¿estás buscando a estos dos traviesos?" Levantas a Uma y Ada para mostrárselos, tratando de no perder de vista al hombre tan guapo que de alguna manera ha entrado en tu vida.

Él, con una mezcla de alivio y agradecimiento, te mira directamente a los ojos y dice: "¡Oh, gracias a Dios los encontré! No sabes cuánto significan para mí." Mientras tanto, su expresión cambia de preocupación a una especie de aprecio, como si estuviera notando algo más allá de la situación de los gatos.

Entre risas nerviosas, le devuelves la sonrisa y comentas: "Bueno, me alegra que los hayas encontrado. Aunque debo decir que tu búsqueda ha sido más emocionante de lo que esperaba para un martes por la mañana". Ambos se ríen, y él te mira con una chispa de interés, como si la situación hubiera llevado a un encuentro que ninguno de los dos esperaba.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #society of the snow #la sociedad de la nieve #uruguay #latina #fanfic #my writing #spanish #gatoslindos #gatos #enzo vogrincic fic

240 notes · View notes

scruus · 10 months

Text

★̶̲ [ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 ]

✎ sub kafka + dom gn reader notes: exhibitionism, finger sucking and fucking, public setting, no actual sex; this is inspired by a fav fic of mine i had read a few years ago on tumblr and i felt kafka would fit this scenario best. Also my writing style is a bit different here.

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ trash magic - lana del ray

“You know, this place has the best coffee, like ever!”, picking a tissue from the steel cup, you wiped the cream off your fingers.

Pressing your fingertips together, “shit”, they still felt sticky. Ugh you hated this feeling. It felt so wrong.

Kafka nods. Perhaps to your previously said statement or she understood the icky expression on your face because of the sticky remnants of the cream staining your fingers and agreeing to the discomfort.

The cafe wasn’t usually bustling on weekdays but ever since the news that some extremely handsome, gothic, tall man with pretty long hair has been serving coffees to young ladies with a smirk and a glare, the business has picked up alot.

“It doesn’t look like poor bladie is enjoying this”, kafka tugs her chin out to the counter he was at, before pulling the cup of hot chocolate, and the dollop of white cream on it, towards her grinning face.

“I don’t know if I should be scared or laughing my ass off-”, you muttered before taking another spoonful of the whipped cream, “probably the former”, and dropping it in your coffee cup, diluting it with the pretty spoon.

Kafka hummed in response. You noticed a few people linger their gazes around your table. It wasn’t too weird, especially when it was kafka seated across you.

A beautiful, gorgeous lady with hair so luscious; eyes resembling sharp gems screaming power; and those harnesses fitting her body like some sort of a bodycon dress. It made her shorts and shirt combo look way more sluttier than it was supposed to be.

It was more of a work outfit if you take out those black harnesses! (And ignore her curves)

Kafka licked her lips slowly, trying to get any leftovers of the drink on her mouth. But her tongue couldn’t reach that small spot above her upper lip.

“Kafka”, you signed to your own lips, “there’s some-”, hoping she will get the idea. Kafka smiled in return, leaning over the table, hands resting on them.

“Why don’t you help me?”, she asked in that sickening sweet voice. That tone in her voice always meant something more. It wasn’t that simple with Kafka.

Although feeling quite nervous, you tried to let it not show on your face. Nodding, you picked up a tissue and moved your hand towards her face.

“[y/n], I asked for your help”, she jerked her head away from the nearing tissue, her eyebrows cocking up, as if you failed to understand her question.

“Uh…what do you want me to do then?”, your hands were still paused in the air. Hesitant and confused.

Kafka’s eyes glinted. She took the tissue out of your hand, tossing it on the table. Not breaking eye contact, in all this time.

She takes your hand, placing your fingers on the bit of cream on her face perfectly, as if she herself positioned the sweetened thing and it wasn’t an accident from just sipping like a normal person.

But again, Kafka was never normal.

Your fingers scooped up the cream in one swift motion, all the while being guided by Kafka’s hand. You almost pulled your hands back but her grasp was still there. Softly holding your hand and letting it linger there.

Slowly she pulled your palm towards her mouth, your fingertips dancing across her lip on a rhythm set by herself. She parts her wet lips, taking two of your fingers inside her mouth (the cream was only on one).

And she starts sucking on them. Nibbling and coating your digits in her saliva. Swirling her tongue around and around like your fingers are some sort of a candy, a favourite of hers.

You curl your lips in, eyes widened, before uttering a lowly whisper-yell, “Kafka!”. But you didn’t pull your fingers out. You didn’t even pull your hand back. In fact, her palm is no longer clasped against your hand. Its on your wrist now.

There was no force though. No harsh grip. Nothing. She was just….touching you. While your fingers were trapped inside her mouth. So you had all the control to remove your hand from her mouth, but you didn’t.

Exhaling a soft needy moan, she continued to suckle on them. Oh, this is different. You felt this weird tightening in your gut. Your throat, dry. Your core, pulsing.

You push your fingers further inside, until your knuckles were touching her lips and your thumb was caressing her chin. Your fingertips prodded at the base of her tongue and you could feel her heartbeat increase in pace.

Her lips continued to form a tight circle around you, sucking you in till she was choking on it.

Kafka was now rubbing her legs together. She could feel something wet inside her panties. There was an unbearable hotness creeping up inside of her. The lit of a fiery passion.

“mmph fuck~”, she slobbers around your fingers, her throat constricting and you could see small veins pop up. Bits of drool trickled down, enough to stain her chin but not in such quantities that they would be dripping down.

However something else was dripping and you both knew very well what it was.

As much as this was hauntingly thrilling and embarrassing to you, you started to indulge in it. The squint in Kafka’s eyes, tears coating them; the shaking whimpers and moans escaping from her throat when she wasn’t entirely focused on being facefucked by your fingers.

“You do really like putting on a show in public”, you chuckle, noticing sets of stares at your table. It had suddenly turned quiet. Not the bustling mess it was a few minutes ago. From the corner of your eyes, you even see a blushing blade peeking at you two.

Just what in the hell are those two doing?, you laugh in your head, already aware of what he was thinking.

“mmhm”, Kafka nods. She suddenly turned so obedient and quiet. Well not like quiet quiet but more like submissive quiet. Like what she usually is when sexual tension between you two starts riling up and all her cool, snarky attitude falls down and she just becomes a dumb slut.

Her hands gripped on the leathered couch, fingers digging in and surely shredding a bit of it. It didn’t matter though. This was more important to her.

Her tongue was rummaging between your fingers, as if being played by them. So slimy and wet, she was salivating a lot more than usual. Your fingerpads were in her throat, and she chokes out a strangled moan. A tear finally escaping her eyes as she shuts them closed.

Did she cum?, startled, you pull your fingers out. A string of saliva forming a bridge before breaking apart quickly. A few drops of it falling on the table.

You didn’t wipe your hands. You stared at Kafka, alarmed and troubled. Although the heat flaring your cheeks may say your true intentions of making her cum in public, in front of so many people, it was also immensely embarrassing.

Kafka’s chest heaves up and down. Her bosom looking restrained under that tight shirt of hers. Sweat droplets forming on her forehead and her face so pretty and red.

Her parted lips were still coated in her saliva, red lipstick smudged. Oh and she has that look. The exact replica of when she climaxes underneath you.

But she smiles. Picking up the same tissue she tossed to the side and wiping her messy lipstick and dabbing that sweat away.

“As much as I would love to put on a show for everyone here”, ugh its that tone again, “-I would rather spread my cunt only for you to fuck into”, she takes out her wallet and places a 30 on the table. Acting as if the entire fucking café didn't just hear her say that.

“Keep the change”, her merry voice calls out to the very bewildered waiter. Before your blushing mess of a head can form a reply, she takes your trembling, drool covered hand, and exits the café.

#.rizzler #honkai star rail #sub honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #hsr #hsr smut #kafka smut #dom reader #dom top reader #sub hsr #sub kafka #.kafka

530 notes · View notes