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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months

Text

How JJK men react to different insecurities part 3

Pairings: Nanami x overweight fem! reader (requested by @deegausserr) Choso x fem!reader with big breasts (requested by anon)

Yuji/Todo x tall/curvy fem!reader (requested by @sitarawrites, @hitori979, @sophyr05 and anon, I see y'all my tall queens)

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: not 100% proofread, as usual don't read if you feel triggered by those topics, listen I literally have no boobs so I'm beyond sorry if Choso's part is shit, overweight and big breast parts contain insults (please note that this is definetely not the way I feel about it!) but also so much comfort from your favorite characters, you are beautiful just the way you are 🤍

Part 1: Nanami x reader with facial scars; Megumi x reader with small breasts; Sukuna x reader with acne (click here to read)

Part 2: Nanami x reader who doesn't want kids; Gojo x reader who gained weight; Megumi x reader with hooked nose (click here to read)

Nanami with an overweight reader

(Imaging him grabbing those ass bully girls like this okay)

You cover yourself up the minute he enters the room. He, the man who caught your eye since the beginning. He, who looks so effortlessly good in that suit. He, a well-trained man with a body like the statues in ancient Greek.

“Hey, the same as usual?”

“Thank you, (y/n).”

Just him, Kento Nanami. And you? Well, you have nothing in common with all those things. To be exact, you aren’t even sure if he ever noticed you. Why would he? You are nothing but a worker in a coffee shop, average-looking and…

You swallow. You are overweight. Not that it would bother you this much. After all, you work hard for your money each and every day, you do your best to keep your head above the water. You never really felt the urge to lose weight until reality, or rather other people, hit you.

“Oh, look who’s working again!”

“Did you already eat all those muffins? How is it possible that when you’re working, all the food is gone around this time?”

There they are again. Breathe in, breathe out. Everything is alright. Just suffering a few minutes, just letting their words hit you a little longer and they’ll be gone again. You just have to get through this. It’s not like you haven’t heard those group of actual grown-ups say those nasty things to you over a hundred times already.

But no. Today, it isn’t that easy. Because on the table in front of you sits none other than Kento Nanami who reads his paper and sips on his cup of coffee like he always does. Why do you suddenly feel the urge to defend yourself, to make them stop talking to you like that?

“Can you guys just leave me alone? I’m doing my job here, okay? Would you like to drink or eat something-“

“Fat pig”, one of the blonde girls suddenly spits at you.

This is nothing new. You should be used to it by know, all the countless insults especially that group of four girls always spits at you are too much to even count. Then why…Why do your eyes roam to his perfectly trimmed blonde undercut, why do you ball your fist in an instant?

What a dumb mistake. One of the girls follows the direction of your sight, breaking out in hysterical laughing when realizing that you were looking at Kento Nanami. No, please don’t make a stupid comment, please just grab a coffee and leave this place. Even though it hurts to get reminded of the stinging fact that you are overweight almost every single day, what hurts even most is…

“I can’t believe you! Why would a fatass like you even look in his direction? Can’t you see that he’s out of your league? God, you are so pathetic it makes my wanna cry. I mean, don’t you have a mirror at home, can’t you see that you are nothing but a fat fuck? Nobody will ever want you, (y/n). Especially not a handsome man like him.”

It’s hard for Nanami to contain his temper, hand already trembling threatful. Who do these girls think they are to talk to you in such a nasty way? You are breathtakingly stunning with eyes that radiate nothing but kindness, you work so hard each and every day. You…

You don’t deserve this.

“Leave me alone”, you mumble again.

And for the first time in forever, your throat starts to burn as well as your eyes. At this point you were so used to getting picked on that you didn’t even cry about it anymore after some time. But this…this isn’t about your weight anymore. This hits you right where it hurts.

Kento Nanami.

You don’t even dare to look his direction, eyes pierced to the ground while their venomous laughs fill the room with hatred. The urge to just get out of here, to leave this place and never return becomes almost unbearable. Maybe…maybe you should really lose some weight. Your eyes dart towards the counter in whose glass your figure is reflected.

You feel absolutely horrible and disgusting. A silent sob escapes your lips. Yes, why would someone like Kento Nanami ever want someone like you?

“Awww look at her, now she’s crying!”

You can’t take the shame anymore. Without thinking twice, you storm out of the coffee shop, ignoring your co-worker calling out your name behind. It began to rain in waterfalls, your tears now mixing with the drops from above.

There was probably never a moment in your life where you hated yourself as much as now. What where you even thinking, getting all excited every morning because of that force of a man? Were you really too dumb to realize that Kento Nanami would never fall for a girl like you?

A fat pig, a person so undisciplined that it shows, a girl that could never wear his t-shirts as a dress. You are a nobody, an ugly figure in a world full of skinny models-

“(y/n)!”

That voice makes your guts turn in an instinct, heart pounding against your chest. You pick up your pace immediately, almost running down the rainy streets of Tokyo into an alley. Of course, he followed you. After all, Kento Nanami is a gentleman out of romance books, the perfect man. But you’d rather die that let him comfort you. No, you don’t want to hear that he’s sorry about their cruel words, you don’t want him to look down at you with his pity-filled eyes.

You simply can’t take it.

“Hey, (y/n). Please look at me.”

With a swift motion, he grabs your wrist and turns you around. You feel like dying right here and now, his chocolate brown eyes seem to pierce right through your soul.

But then…

He pushes you against the wall and just kisses you. His lips collapse onto yours with so much passion that it simply takes your breath away, his eyes roaming around your body hungrily. You stare at him in sheer disbelief. Is this really happening? Are you dreaming? Countless lonely night, you imagined what it would feel like to have him this close, to feel his body against yours. And now…And now that gorgeous man pinned you against a wall.

“Don’t you dare to believe a single word they said. I promise you that they’ll never speak to you like this again. I made sure of that.”

It feels so surreal, almost too good to be true. Is he only doing this out of pity, because he doesn’t want you to feel bad? Your heart sinks painfully. Is that what this is about?

“You don’t have to do that so I’m feeling better”, you mumble against his lips.

Instinctively, you cross your arms in front of your chest, hiding you like you always do around him.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel better”, he replies in an instant, hands gently untucking your arms to place his own around your waist.

“I’m saying this because I can’t take my eyes off you since I saw you the first time I stepped into this café. You have to be the most beautiful person I have ever seen, (y/n). I adore your delicate curves, your inviting smile, your unshakable character. I love the way your hair falls and how you prepare my coffee. I adore you just the way you are. Did you really think I’m there because of the coffee? It’s not that good if you’re asking me.”

His comment makes you giggle your tears away and shaking your head at the same time.

“Yeah, the coffee isn’t that great to be honest”, you comment.

“But you are.”

He looks down at you all serious again, his intense gaze making your knees go weak in an instant.

“And I want nothing more than to take you out to a nice restaurant.”

Choso with a reader who has big breasts

You were never keen to meet new people, especially men. Not because you aren’t talkative or enjoy others company. No, it’s because you never know how they’ll react when seeing you for the first time.

Even though especially other women are jealous of you because of how big your breasts are, you truly hate them. It seems like the second you meet someone, all they have eyes for is your cleavage. No matter if you wear a baggy shirt, your uniform or one of the dresses you normally adore so much, your boobs come first. And you fucking hate it.

“Hey, why are you so nervous, (y/n)? I’m sure you and Choso will get along just fine!”, Yuji tries to cheer you up with a kind smile.

“And probably your-“

“Shut up right now, moron”, Megumi mumbles instinctively.

You sign to yourself. It’s clear that he’s just trying to be nice and funny, but to be honest you want to cry. Since puberty hit you, no one ever saw you like an individual anymore. No, you are either sexualized or body-shamed.

“Would you crush me with your melons for some money? C’mon (y/n).”

“There she is again. Look at her tits!”

“She’s just showing off. What a slut.”

“I bet those would be a good ass pillow.”

You are so damn tired of it. Tired of all the people talking about you behind your back, tired of being nothing but a sex object, tired of having no character. Even though here at Jujutsu High, people seem to finally get that you are indeed a human being all by yourself and would never talk badly about you, you can feel their looks.

“Oh, there he is! Come on, (y/n)!”

No, no, no. Is it too late to just turn around and leave this place? Maybe Maki is still free, you should go and grab a drink with her. Or even better, barricade yourself into your dorm and return when this man is gone.

“You must be (y/n). My little brother told me a lot about you”, a dark voice introduces itself.

Your eyes dart up in panic. Oh, you just know how this goes. First of all, he’ll look down at your breasts. If he’s having at least a spark of decency, his eyes will dart back to your face and roam around when he thinks you’re not paying any attention. And maybe, just maybe, he won’t mention your cleavage for quite some time.

“Nice to meet you”, you mumble annoyed already.

Huh, his eyes rest right on your face, a small smile forming itself on his lips. You tilt your head to the side, squint your eyes in confusion. Well, this is definitely new. He didn’t even look at them, not a single glimpse onto your body.

“Is it true that you have a thing for blood manipulation? Yuji told me you are interested in learning more about that technique.”

“Well, yeah…”

You have to blink a few times. He is so…different from everyone else. Not even Megumi resisted the urge to look down at you, you even heard him talking about it with Yuji someday. But this man…what was his name again? Choso? He seems to be curious about…

You. Nothing but you.

“I am quite skilled when it comes to blood manipulation. If you want, I will gladly show you a few things.”

“Y-yeah…I mean…That would be nice. Like, today?”, you stutter awkwardly, completely caught off guard by this unexpected change of scenery.

“If you have time, of course.”

“Okay, then…I’ll change now.”

“I’ll meet you at the training field.”

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

As soon as you leave the room, Yuji seems to finally regain your voice.

“And? What do you think about her?”

“I think she seems quite nice for a human being.”

“And what else?”

A big pause that makes your heart shatter for a brief moment. Maybe he isn’t as different as you thought. Maybe he’s just thinking about your cleavage like everybody else does, maybe-

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Haven’t you seen her,…y’know…Megumi?”

“He means her breasts”, Megumi clarifies.

“Why would I look at her breasts when she seems to have an interesting character?”

Your heart almost beats out of your chest, ears literally unable to comprehend what you’ve just heard. It really shouldn’t touch you like that. But oh, the second you begin to realize what that stranger just said your eyes get glossy. It might only be a little statement for him, but it surely means the world to you.

In a world that shames on you for something you can’t change, in a world in which men only took you on dates or talked to you because of your breasts and not because of your personality.

Choso seems to be the first person who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck about the way you look. And oh does it feel nice.

“Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought”, you mumble to yourself.

Yuji and Todo with a cury/tall girl

Just one look at him seems to sweep you off your feet. The way he walks, the way he talks, simply the way he carries himself. It wasn’t hard to fall for Yuji, but it was definitely rough to find out he isn’t interested in you.

“What kind of woman is Yuji actually into?”

Nobara looked at you up and down, visibly bamboozled about what you’ve just asked. There aren’t many things she doesn’t think about, but Yuji Itadori’s type is definitely one of them.

“I don’t know girl…But I guess he’s the type for rather short girls, don’t ya think?”

You hated the way your heart instantly began to ache in your ribcage. Of course he does. Aren’t all boys nowadays into petite girls with a bubbly personality? And to be honest, you are none of that.

Taller than all the other girls and even some boys around Jujutsu High, curvier than anyone else, probably uglier than the rest. You never put much thought into all of these things, but right. Why would Yuji be any different from all the guys you’ve met before?

“Who the hell is this woman, Itadori?”

Todo can’t help but shamelessly stare at you. This is too good to be true, a sight straight out of his dreams. You…You are even better than Takada-chan.

“Huh? Oh, that’s (y/n)”, he replies with a small grin, just one look at you making his heart stumble all over again.

He hasn’t seen you in quite some time now that he thinks of it.

“What kind of woman is your type, Itadori Yuji?”

The pink-haired boy has to blink a few times, eyes still set on your delicious curves and gorgeous long legs.

“I like tall woman with a big ass.”

“Is that your final answer?”, he huge boy next to him urges, grabbing him by his uniform so roughly that his eyes yank away from you.

“Yes!”, he replies immediately.

“Then get going, we need to talk to this beauty over there”, he announces, dragging Yuji behind him before he is even able to reply.

You tilt your head to the side. What the hell is going on over there? Who is that shirtless guy and…is that Yuji he drags behind him as if he’s taking out trash?

“You!”, he shouts into your direction, eyes seem to pierce right through your soul.

What the hell is this about? Should you run away, cry for help? He definitely looks pretty dangerous to you with the way his muscles seem to grow with every step he takes towards you.

“Hey, let me go! I can walk by myself!”, Yuji protests.

“Now talk to her”, Todo hisses, almost pushing him into you.

“Oh, hi (y/n)!”

“Well, hi Yuji…”, you answer rather confused.

You look even better from over here, your body lingering over his own by a few centimetres. Yes, you have to be the biggest woman Yuji has ever seen with a character so badass that no one can hold a candle to you. And those curves, those oh so delicious curves…

“Tell her what kind of woman is your type”, the guy next to him demands harshly.

“Stop being so damn loud, she hears you!”

“Oh, I definitely do. What is all of this bullshit about and what kind of freak are you exactly?”

“Itadori loves tall woman with a big ass.”

Well, that’s rather unexpected. Yuji turns as red as a tomato, not daring to shoot a single glimpse your way. But Nobara said that he likes petite girls and somehow, this always made sense to you. Still, his body doesn’t lie. And the fact that he doesn’t say anything against it tells you…

“You like tall woman with a big ass”, you repeat.

“Well, to be honest, I just like you, (y/n)”, he mutters along with scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“I like you too. You have to be the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. Let me cherish you for the rest of our lives”, the guy named Todo purrs.

“Hey, I thought you were my wingman and now you’re trying to steal my girl away from me!”, Yuji protests.

“When did I ever say that, moron? We might be brothers, but this right here is my girl-“

“WE ARE NOT BROTHERS AND (Y/N) IS NOT YOUR GIRL!”

“I’ve been crazy about you for so long. I can’t believe you actually find me attractive, Yuji”, you interrupt their little chitchat.

Your heart feels light as a feather, so good that you are almost think about giggling out in sheer joy.

“Are you kidding? You are what dreams are made of, (y/n)! I was just too shy to admit…”

“I’d never be too shy to show my love. Pick me, (y/n)!”

“GET AWAY FROM HERE!”

“I’M NOT LEAVING MY GIRL BEHIND!”

"That's enough, I'm leaving. See you around guys", you announce with a sly grin.

"OUCH, DID YOU JUST SLAP ME TODO!?"

"JUST THE WAY YOU DESERVE IT, ITADORI!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz

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jyoongim · 3 months

Note

HIHIHIH OMG ILYSMMM UR WOEK IS AMAZING!!!

SOOOOOO i have a few req idwas!!

idea 1: reader is lucifers s/o and finds out luci is cheating on them so for payback they hook up w alastor luci may or may not find out up to you!

idea 2: reader is alastors s/o and they are at readers parents house (theyre also in hell) and reader goes to ask their dad sum like "hey daddy..." and her dad and alastor both respond....

JUST A FEW IDEAS I HAD FOR AWHILE BTW IDK IF I DID THIS RIGHT THIS WAS MY FIRST REQ..

You did a wonderful job! Thank you for the request! i did the 2nd idea! I thought it was funny hehehe

Your parents had invited you and Alastor to Sunday dinner. Funny thing that the most church-loving couple ended up in Hell. They never broke tradition even down here.

“Ooh honey we are so happy you two could join us” Your mother chirped, beaming as you hand her the bouquet of flowers you had picked up and pulled you into a hug.

“Its always a pleasure to get a chance to eat your fine cookin maam” Alastor smiled as his mother in law gave him a squeeze, letting y’all inside and heading towards the dining room.

Your mother talked about the latest gossip she had heard, hissing murderously at the mention of Susan joining her book club.

”Oh can you believe that hag? Just can’t let me have nothin”

“I told ya momma if she hate the woman so much why not just smoke ‘er, but nope she too sweet.” Your father’s deep brawl met your ears as you entered the living room.

He smiled at you, pulling you into a bear hug as he kissed your forehead “Ooh there’s my princess” he said affectionately making you giggle. He straightened up, turning to Alastor, he gave a smile

”Aaah how are you doing my boy? heard you were managing a fancy hotel! Me and the Mrs should come check y’all out sometimes.”

They shook hands and you slipped away to help your mother get dinner.

And what a dinner indeed.

Dinner was filled with chatter as the two parties caught up with each other.

Everything was wonderful.

“Daddy can you pass me the pitcher of lemonade please?” you asked as you realized you had a empty glass.

“Why of course”

”Sure thing”

two voices said, making you tense and look up with wide eyes.

Your father and Alastor were now looking at each other as both had reached out to grab the pitcher.

Alastor ears were perked as he gave your father a sharp smile, slowly retracting his hand as he chuckled.

Your father however had a frown on his face and his lips pulled into a snarl, eyes narrowing.

You wanted to be swallowed up by the floor.

Your father’s eyes cut to you, making your cheeks burn as you looked away, embarrassed.

“You wanna tell me why he responded to that? You know what i already have an inkling. Alastor meet me out back” your father growled standing up, making a move to grab his shotgun.

”There’s no need for that!” You whined, standing up to block your father from Alastor.

”Sir i assure you that isn’t half of what she calls me” the red demon chuckled darkly, making the older demon rush at him.

Alastor disappeared in a shrew of shadows, taking you with him.

”Dinner was lovely as always Madam” he kissed your mother’s cheek, disappearing as the sound of a shot rang out.

”Well dinner was rather eventual” he smirked, you facepalmed

”i am never going home again. How will i face them again after that?” You whine. Alastor kissed your cheek

”Dear you’ve called me worst, I’m sure hell forget about it”

———————————————————————————-

“Um guys why is there a demon with a shotgun shouting outside the hotel?” Charlie asked.

You groaned, glaring at Alastor

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x y/n #jyoongim #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fluff

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space-mango-company · 3 months

Text

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

#feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune part two #baron harkonnen #baron vladimir harkonnen #house harkonnen #house atreides #giedi prime #austin butler #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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phoenixyfriend · 15 days

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Something something Dooku survives the Clone Wars, the Imperial Era, and even a few years past the OT...

And Luke finds him while looking for More Jedi to help him teach.

Chewie recognizes the decrepit old bastard, and there is yelling, but being A Hundred And Nine has mellowed Dooku out in his own dusty hermit hut, on the other side of the galaxy from Ben and Yoda's hermit huts.

All the Jedi ghosts are unhappy with this but Dooku is… not REFORMED, technically, but he's old and tired, even if the Force keeps him a bit more healthy and energized than the average Old Guy, and humans routinely live to pretty unreal old ages in the gffa anyway so really 109 for them is probably like 85 for us.

But yeah. Old mountain hermit (to contrast the desert and the swamp) who's been in hiding from That Dick Sidious since he lost both hands to babyface Vader in 19BBY.

@jebiknights (Sammie) said:

Dooku finds out Luke was also trained by Yoda and is like "oh Yoda finally gave me a younger brother like I always wanted"

Alternately he could probably get Luke to call him Great-Great-Grandfather.

Sammie: Funniest option is he's both which makes Luke even more confused lmao Ghost Obi wan in the background like "stop fucking using non Jedi terms to describe Jedi relationships it doesn't fucking work"

Luke calls him, irreverently, Gramps, but also. Leia definitely recognizes him as a Recent Historic Political Figure, but not until AFTER Luke has already integrated Dooku into his new Jedi school.

"Why did Chewie let him do that?" He thought it was funny. (And/or if you like Chewku, you can make this some sordid exes thing.)

"Why did R2 let him do that?" Best keep evil man in electrical prodding range.

Sammie: Leia comes to the school for her biweekly Jedi lessons and sees the newest teacher was a traitor to the Republic 😭

Best if they can find Quin or Ventress out in the black. Partly because like. Does this make Ventress their step-grandma (Quinlan's on-off something) or their great-great-aunt (Dooku's 4th apprentice)?

Sammie: Both and also Luke's niece. Luke has a migraine by the end of it and Leia is ready to disown herself. Ventress: I didn't realize the Jedi were so incestuous Luke: war flashbacks to before he realized Leia was his sister

Ahsoka in the corner with Spacebucks, five years late "Y'all suck. Hey, Quin."

Sammie: I know you likely didn't bring up Quinlan thinking of QuinObi but now I'm imagining Quinlan declaring himself their grandpa when he meets the twins bc 1) he loves to cause chaos 2) he does/did consider Anakin his kid even if not in neat non Jedi terms and 3) Obi-Wan thought being considered Anakin's father made him sound old, and Quinlan needs to harass him beyond the grave

Dooku must have a cane that the ghosts heckle him about because He Clearly Wants To Be Just Like Yoda.

@lyntergalactic (Lyn) said:

I feel like evil gramps could really bring out Ahsoka's snark once she shows up and that would be highly entertaining Ahsoka is simultaneously his most and least favorite grandchild

She's the most experienced as a Jedi (Ventress went full Sith, not just leaving the Order but following the tenets like Ahsoka, and Quinlan isn't in the lineage), has never Fallen unless you count that thing on Mortis.

Also she WILL bitch Dooku out at this age, and honestly he kind of appreciates the brutal honesty.

Ahsoka: I'm not a Jedi. All the old people: Lies

She brings up the Hondo incident since nobody else is putting in the effort. Anakin and Obi-Wan COULD as ghosts but nooooooo she has to do everything around here.

Sammie: Oh but it sets them off so hard they can barely get the story off from laughing NGL I think the twins did not understand how truly annoying Obi-Wan and Anakin could be together until the Hondo story gets told.

They are The Worst.

#star wars #count dooku #luke skywalker #leia organa #asajj ventress #quinlan vos #quinobi #incest mention #(the canon incident)#quintress #obi wan kenobi #master yoda #anakin skywalker #force ghosts #phoenix posts

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gamarancianne · 5 months

Note

Hi, how are you? I had an idea and I wanted to ask you if you could do an angst with Azriel x reader in which she is friends with Elain and has been in love with Az for some time, but has never told him because they hardly have any contact apart from the Valkyries and Elain's training. Then they get a little closer and she decides to tell Elain all about her feelings for Azriel and pushes the reader to confess her feelings and that's exactly what she does, but Azriel's reaction isn't the most pleasant and he lets out a "How can you fall in love with someone you hardly know? Only fools are like that. So she is devastated and disappears for a few days, until she returns and catches Azriel and Elain in a very intimate moment in the bedroom and realizes that they were already together even before she confessed her feelings to him and they end up drifting apart. So the reader begins to do everything she can to forget Az and concentrate on herself and, in the meantime, becomes friends with Lucien, to the point of braiding each other's hair. After a while, they break up and Az starts to notice the reader, but she's looser than ever and doesn't care much about him. And he chases after her a lot and in the meantime an obscenity occurs to her so that she ends up saying it was just a one-night stand. And the ending is up to you :)

Azriel x reader - In Between part 1

Part 2

Okay first of all thank you so much for this ask it is my first so its precious to me !! And I am really fine and you ?? I love the plotline and I am sucker for angst, especially with our little azzy so it's perfect !!

Warnings : angst, smut allusions, heartbreak, mean Az, mean Elain

Summary : You are in love with Azriel, but you don't know him, that's what he said when you confessed. Heartbroken yes, but you surely didn't think that he would end up being with your dear friend Elain.

Note : well this has gotten longer than I thought so it will part 2 and I am already working on it don't worry. Also I didn't know if Elain knew that it was Az or not so I improvised. I hope it fits your standards and you can all tell me what you think about it in the comments. And I am again sorry for my English 😭💗

There he was, in all his glory, sweaty from his fight with Cassian, his shadows swirling around him and you had never been more attracted to someone.

Elain had finally convinced you to join her at training and you instantly regretted, looking at how hard the Valkyries were training but mostly feeling your cheeks heaten up at the sight of him. Of his naked torso full of black ink and fight scars. 'Gods, cauldron boil me why did I accept this' you thought. But Elain was quick enough to shove the thought away when she brought you to introduce you to her family. You had already seen them many times when you had picked her up after training for a walk or a tea party, thing that you both enjoyed a lot, but it was never a proper meeting like this one.

"Hey guys !" She exclaimed, full of joy "This is yn, a friend of mine and she's coming to training for the first time so I hope you are all gonna be nice to her. Especially you Az, don't scare her away" she chuckled looking a the main concerned. After quick presentations, she made sure you were okay and went with her sister, Cassian and the Valkyries for their already known exercises while you stayed there, blush creeping up to your face and ears, with Azriel. Because, with your luck, he was the one to train you today to show you the basic exercises in order to not hurt you during the first day.

"Follow me" Azriel ordered and you obeyed, walking to a smaller ring. He showed you some stretches before starting to teach you many combat basics. It was awkward, for both of you. Every time Azriel came behind you to correct your position, you would blush extremely hard and shiver at his touch. And you could tell he noticed it by the way he straightened and did everything to avoid this kind of situation. To ease the tension between us, you engaged the conversation. "they're really beautiful" you said pointing with your head the blue gems on his arms and torso now dressed with his leathers.

"Oh thanks..." he only responded. Elain did already tell you that he was a silent one but you didn't expect him to be that silent to be honest. But you were stubborn so you continued. "And.. where did you buy them ? I think it could be a nice present for my brother for next solstice". And then he froze, stared at you dead in the eye and laughed at your face. Despite the facts that you didn't understand and that you were even more embarrassed you couldn't stop yourself from enjoying the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. His beautiful laugh was clear and ran to the deepest parts of your soul.

"Wh-what is so funny about what I said?"

"They're siphons, I earned them by being a Carynthian, because I am an Illyrian soldier, you cannot buy them !" He bursted out of laughter a second time.

"Oh mother above, I am so sorry if I offended you by saying that, I don't know anything about Illyrians I am sorry. Really" you stuttered, feeling even more ridiculous than before.

He reassured you about it. You had made a fool of yourself but the air was lighter and the training went on with a more smiling and nice Azriel, with whom you had joked, laughed and exchanged soft innocent touches, until it was over. The bubble in which you and Az had been, exploded when Elain came checking on you two.

"How did it go ?" She asked excited.

"Really well" you answered quite proud of you.

Azriel nodded, and you felt his eyes linger on you when you left with your friend.

You came back the day after, and the day after and after... until it became a routine to train and laugh with Az very morning. Now you were also training with Elain and Nesta because of your quick improvements. But one thing was certain, you had fallen completely and utterly in love with Azriel. You didn't know what to do because he was always staring at you from afar when you were coming or leaving but you two never really talked about your life or anything.

While stretching with Elain, she asked about your love life and you decided that you would ask her opinion.

"Speaking of that, I need you to be brutally honest with me El' "

"What are you seeing someone ? Why didn't you tell me ?" She exclaimed.

"No I am not, don't worry I would've told you" she relaxed. "But you know there is this guy that I see almost everyday and I think we get along well. I feel like he is looking at me sometimes but we never really talk to eachother, like about our lives or anything. It's odd, but I really like him and I don't know what to do."

She smiled at your scrunched eyebrows and responded more calmly: "Follow you heart dear, you are so much beautiful and kind, there is no sane male in all Prythian who could resist you. Besides who is this man ? Isn't it the brown hair guy at the coffee shop you work at ? Because if it is he totally has a crush on you!"

"Haha no I won't tell you but thanks for the advice though, you are clearly the best! I love you Elain!"

"Me too yn, a lot. But now go get your lover before I kick you out myself for you to do it! Fly you fool!" She pushed you out the ring while you were laughing with her and you ran as fast as you could to get to the source of your desire, Azriel. He was almost shooting in the sky when you screamed his name. He turned around to see your exhausted figure running toward him.

"Hey are you okay ? What's going on ?"

"I'm fine thank you Az but I got something to tell you if you don't mind"

"Of course not go on", he responded almost too quickly and straightened hearing his nickname coming from your mouth. You always called him Azriel but never Az or Azzy. Never.

"Well, I meant to tell you for a while but I hadn't enough courage so here am I... I love you" you spoke in one breath your head down and your eyes shut.

You waited for an answer and waited again until you were almost shaking with fear and looked back at Azriel's face. What you saw made your eyes well up with tears. He was shocked, in a bad way, even disgusted at your confession.

"You don't want that yn" he finally answered.

"What ?" You asked your voice breaking.

"How can you fall in love with someone you hardly knows ? Only fools are like that". And with that he flew away, leaving you a crying mess on the floor of training.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your body and heart were sore. You had been crying for hours. After training, well, more after your mean rejection by the love of your life, you had run away to your apartment and cried without stopping, you sometimes just changed the place: your bed, the couch, even the floor. You felt broken, of course, but above all ashamed at your actions. Your bad thoughts were flooding in your head without stopping. Your anxiety, insecurity and doubts about yourself surfaced once again: he was right, how could you have fallen in love with him without even knowing him ? And then you cried again, this time at your window looking at the stars above you. Two of them were shining more than the others and you just hoped that one day the mother would give you a male, capable of loving you back so that you could both be like those stars, shining together amongst others.

It had been a few days now, and the same routine happened again everyday. You would wake up, your eyes sore from crying not remembering anything, and you would recall your conversation with Azriel and start crying again all day, only eating ice cream or cookies. Elain had sent you many notes, asking what was happening to you and why you weren't at training. You still hadn't answered yet but, today, you decided that it was time for you to get up your feet and not cry about that lame excuse of a male anymore. You dressed up and went to Elain's apartment near the Sidra.

When you arrived, the door was already open, but when you called her, she didn't answer. The worst scenarios already came to your mind and you entered in her home, scared for her. You stopped in your tracks when you heard noises coming from her bedroom. It was voices, her and Azriel's voices. You didn't want to do anything involving Azriel so you walked back to the door but froze when you heard your name. You didn't want to be nosy, but you heard your name, so it was fair to listen right? You approached slowly and silently her bedroom in which you two had have countless sleepless girls nights, and listened to their conversation.

"What ? You are the one she confessed to ?" Elain then bursted out of laughter and you felt another knife stabbing your heart. Your dear friend, who encouraged you to confess the deepest parts of your heart was mocking you in front of your said love interest. But you weren't supposed to be there, so it was your fault. You deserved it for making a fool of yourself. That's what your thoughts were screaming at you in your head.

"Yeah, but stop it now, I don't wanna talk about another woman right now" Azriel said, his voice low.

You had enough now but still decided to take a look inside yhe room and instantly regretted when you saw them together, naked from their previous activities, tangled in the sheets, now making out with eachother. Your heart already broken in a million pieces, broke again when he said those words you will remember for life "Anyway you know I only love you Elain".

You ran as fast as you could, bumping in the table, and making a big noise in the living room but you couldn't care one bit. You just had to leave the damn place. Tears were streaming down your face knowing your face, and you didn't even noticed it, only focused on the worst pain you had ever felt. The pain of your heart: of a love and a friendship broken. It was too much, too much in just a short amount of time.

And then everything hit you : Azriel had never looked nor stared at you, he was looking at Elain all this time when you were both arriving at training. He was never interested in you, it was always Elain. How could you have been so stupid and think different : the first time you two had ever talked, you had made a fool of yourself and he was only nice to you because you were Elain's friend. For the past month, in need of affection, you had lived in complete delusion of a love that never existed.

#acotar #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #elain archeron #elain acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x yn #acotar x y/n #writing #nesta archeron #cassian

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kennahjune · 7 months

Text

Part 2 of my s3 Steddie :D

Tag list: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @swimmingbirdrunningrock @clumsiluni @just-a-tiny-void @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @mugloversonly @skyewaytohell @lololol-1234 @conversationswithamillennial @maya-custodios-dionach @nuggies4life @luthienstormblessed @blu3stars @samsoble @finntheehumaneater @thatonebirthstone @bird-with-pencils @swiftielouie55 @queenie-ofthe-void @paintsplatteredandimperfect @monsterloverforhire @krazyperson @literatelobster @jaytriesstuff @hippieg1rl420 @beawritingbooks @nightoffury @irregular-child @colidamae @stevieboyscoffee @martinskis-lydias

Holy shit!! I’ve never made a tag list before?? Thank you guys sm for being so into it!! And without further ado;

…

Steve woke up with the initial thought of “what the fuck”. So he could automatically assume his day was going to go great.

Out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is where he finds Jonathan and— oddly enough— Robin.

Steve was used to finding Jonathan with him after one of his “episodes”. Usually he or Nancy will help him through it the best they can, laying with him or sitting with him wherever he is.

The idea of Robin in his house doesn’t even occur to Steve as weird until Robin says, “Sorry for the intrusion, uh… you really freaking worried me, man.”

Steve blinked— then, without taking his eyes off of Robin, asked Jonathan “Where did I have my episode at last night?”

Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish about it. “Uh— pfsshh, you had it at work, Steve.”

“And how bad was it?” He looked at Jonathan.

“You collapsed and had to be carried to the break room to rest. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember much of anything is also saying a lot.”

Steve stood there, thinking long and hard about yesterdays events.

“I remember Billy coming in and saying something about Max. Then he said something about Dustin that pissed me off. I don’t know. After that… who the hell?..”

Munson.

Holy shit.

Jonathan must’ve clocked the moment of realization cause he walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man.”

Steve groaned and hurried his face in his hands. “That’s so embarrassing!” Was his muffled complaint. Robin— the asshole— had the nerve to snort at him.

“Hush, Buckley! Ugh I hate this.”

Jonathan was rubbing his back now, barely hiding his own snickers and laughs. “Come on—“

“I have to go,” Steve said quickly and went to turn around to leave.

“Where are you going? This is your house!” Robin retorted.

“I have to go apologize!”

Jonathan snagged Steve’s wrist and prevented him from going any further. “Go sit down, Steve. You can apologize later.”

Steve begrudgingly obliged, sitting at the small kitchen table that was usually used for his dads drinking. He crossed his arms and put his head down. He’d fucked up his vision again when he spun around too fast to leave. Jonathan sighed and came up to rub his back again. Physical touch helped Steve a lot during times like these. Especially during the vertigo.

Robin took the seat next to him. “So, two concussions? If you were having such a bad time why didn’t you just call in?”

“Cause I’m constantly late to work and the only reason I haven’t been fired and kicked on my ass is because you keep covering for me so I figured I had to return the favor,” he replied in one breath.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, just basking the each others presence. Until Jonathan stopped rubbing Steve’s back, let his hand rest there, and then patted between his shoulder blades twice before going over to the pantry.

“You need to eat something before you do anything. Robin can you get him a cup of water, please?”

Robin nodded and stood to get it. Steve groaned. “I can get my own water, Jon.” but he’d made no attempts to move from his seat. Jonathan muttered something about toast.

“Considering the fact that yesterday you just about passed out on your feet and how a few minutes ago you nearly fell over just by turning too fast, I’d like to differ.”

Steve huffed, knowing he was right. He heard the toaster start and glass was set down gently in front of him. He lifted his head and eyed the water.

“I didn’t poison the damn thing, dingus.” Robin tapped her fingers on the table.

Steve snorted and finally took the glass. He was done with it in seconds.

“Christ,” Robin muttered while refilling it for him.

When Steve was just about done eating his toast and downing another cup of water his house phone went off.

“I’ve got it.” Jonathan stood.

Steve shrugged and stood himself— slowly this time— to put his dishes away. Robin remained seated and watched him.

Jonathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and walked over, trying to hear the conversation.

“Yeah— no I’ve got it, don’t worry. I love you to. Bye.” Jonathan hung up and sighed heavily.

“You alright?” Steve leaned on the wall next to him.

“Yep. Great. That was my mom, by the way. And apparently the kids are all on the loose in Forest Hills, looking for Eddie.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“So…” Robin stood. “I’m going with Steve?”

…

Max was curious. They all were. Just who the hell was Eddie Munson? Steve had never mentioned him before, but from the looks of it both Jonathan and Steve knew him.

Will had wanted to ask Nancy about him, saying how Jonathan said they all went to school together, but Mike refused to ask Nancy about any of this other than asking about migraines.

So they were on their own.

Max took her skateboard and the boys took their bikes (Will riding with Mike) and the four of them made their way to the trailer park.

Max was running on borrowed time, telling Billy that she was going over to the Byers’. And if that’s not where she is in the next 2-3 hours when he comes to pick her up then she’s done for.

But it’s fine. They figure out where Eddie Munson lives in no time. It’s not a very big trailer park, and “Eddie Munson” seems to be a pretty recognizable name. A nice old lady named Miss. Bottomette pointed them right down the street from her own trailer.

The four of them made their way over, dumping their bikes (and skateboard) in the yard— not bothering with kickstands. Max and Mike shoved their way in front of the other two, both going to knock at the same time.

Mike gently shoved Max to the side when the door opened, now all three of them being behind him. Standing at the door wasn’t Eddie Munson, unless he’d aged 50 years in past 24 hours. The new man was a lot older, and was just a bit taller than Mike. He looked the four of them up and down before leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms.

“What can I help you kids with?”

Will gulped. He didn’t like adults and especially not ones with heavy western accents that look like they’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Um— we’re just looking for an uh, an Eddie Munson, sir,” Max tagged on from behind Mike. Will reached over subtly and grabbed someone’s hand, he thinks it’s was Lucas’. Why the hell was this guy so scary?

The man had a gleam in his— something like amusement. It kind of pissed Mike off but he knew better than to get pissy with an adult he’d just met. Especially with how Will was reacting to him.

“Well,” the man chuckled, “I’m not sure what you kids need with ‘im, but he’s not here right now. So why don’t you go back home, huh?”

He went to close the door but Mike spoke up. “Wait! Please— we uh— we really, really need to talk to him. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds!”

“If he’s not here do you know where he is?” asked Lucas.

The man studied them all closely, his eyes raking over them each individually. As if they were threats. Mike nearly scoffed to himself.

Finally the man gave in and sighed. “Why do you wanna see Ed so bad?”

Max tapped her foot really hard on the wooden porch. When everyone jumped and looked at her she put her hands up. “Sorry! Got excited.”

Lucas spoke up this time. “We, um— wanna thank him? And ask him a few questions I guess. He helped out one of our friends yesterday and we really really just want to talk to him, please. Sir.” he tagged on the “sir” like an after thought.

In the next few moments, they found themselves piling into the very small, very cramped trailer living room.

“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle.” he finally introduced himself. He raised his eyebrow at them. Oh yeah, they have to introduce themselves as well.

“Oh! Um— I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.”

“Er— Max Mayfield.” she crossed her arms.

“Mike Wheeler.”

“Um, uh—“ Will grabbed Mikes hand “—Will Byers.”

Mr. Munson’s eyes seemed to study Will extra hard. Mike gripped his hand and squeezed to let him know he was there. Even Max and Lucas moved in slightly closer to Will. They didn’t understand why this guy seemed to come off so mean.

“Hey Uncle Wayne! What’s taking you so long at the door, man?” The man of the hour showed his face at the end of a small hallway. His brain seemed to short circuit at the sight of all the kids in his very small and very cramped living room.

“Um, hi?” Lucas greeted awkwardly.

Eddie leisurely made his way into the room with him. “Aren’t you Harrington’s kids from last night?”

“We’re not his kids,” Mike grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t deny the spike of joy that came with the title.

Mr. Munson looked at Eddie like he’d lost his mind. “Harrington’s kids?” he put extra emphasis on “Harrington”, as if it was actually so weird.

Max rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Harrington’s kids,” she said under her breath with heavy sarcasm.

Lucas shot her a glare and she grunted.

“Well—“ Eddie clapped his hands “—what can I help you kids with?”

Mike and Max eyed each other, trying to decide who was going to start. Turns out; it was Will.

“We wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he spoke up timidly. Mike squeezed his hand.

“Ok,” Eddie accepted. “Hit me. What’s up?”

Lucas was the first this time. “Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

…

When Wayne went to get the door Eddie didn’t think it’d take 20 minutes. And he also didn’t think that going out to check on him would lead him to finding four little kids in his living room. More specifically Steve Harrington’s kids.

He should’ve known it was to be bombarded with questions.

“Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

Well shit.

“Cause I’ve had an undying crush on him since he first came to the high school in his freshman year and I wasn’t going to turn up a chance to help him out and maybe talk to him and then I realized it was actually a lot worse than I thought so I stuck around to make sure he was ok.”

Yeah absolutely not.

“Because he needed help. The guy couldn’t even stand on his own.”

Lucas eyed him but handed it over to Max.

“Why were you so chill about his migraine? I mean you said it yourself: he could barely stand on his own. Most people would’ve left the moment someone else got there if not before.”

Little Red held a strong point.

“Cause I knew he needed help. Simple as that.”

No. Not “simple as that”.

“Did you know him in high school? Back when he was dating Nancy?” Little Wheeler asked.

Now this; this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He sighed, maybe a little harsher than intended, and answered “Yes. I knew him in high school and when he was dating your sister.”

At this point Wayne had left to the kitchen. But Eddie knew he was listening in, making sure they didn’t cross any lines.

“So if you knew him in high school, when he was an asshole— don’t kick me he was!— then why were you so nice? Cause most people he talks to from high school seem to hate his guts.”

“Jonathan doesn’t hate his guts!”

“I said “most people”, Will!”

Well golly damn they hold a lot of good points today. Before he got to answering the question there was another knock on the door. Max flinched and moved closer to Lucas.

“I got it,” Wayne said as he made his way over.

When he opened the door Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Jonathan Byers were all there on the porch. Wayne looked back and forth between the two groups before sighing and saying, “Why don’t we all step outside? Trailer ain’t big enough for all of ya.”

So that’s where they all went, outside on the front yard. Wayne sat on the porch steps while Eddie hung back.

“What the hell was the point in this?” Asked Steve, scolding the kids.

“We just wanted to ask him some questions!” defended Lucas. Will hung back by Jonathan but nodded his head.

“Questions.” Steve deadpanned.

Max huffed and Steve’s glare turned on her. She crossed her arms and looked away, seeming to close in on herself.

Steve sighed and pinched his nose, turning around and grunting before turning back around. “Ok, here’s the game plan.” he clapped his hands. “You four—“ he pointed at each of the kids “— are going to apologize to Mr. Munson and Eddie.”

The kids all started to grumble and protest.

“AND THEN—“ he continued loudly over them, making them shut up “—you are going to all go home to your own houses. We will talk about this tomorrow when I don’t want to fucking strangle you.”

“I can’t.” Max huffed.

“Cant what?” Steve asked.

“Go home. Especially not with you. I told Billy I’d be at the Byers’ and he’s expecting me to be there in the next half hour.”

Steve’s entire face dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Max.”

She folded her arms and looked down. Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Ok, it’s fine. Change of plans; we’re all going to the Byers’! You four go apologize now and then load your bikes and board into my car as best you can.”

Eddie stood through their half-assed apologies while Steve stood back conversing with Jonathan. When the kids made their move to get their bikes and skateboard Eddie moved over to stand next to Steve. While the kids loitered around for a moment. Steve turned on him when he noticed his approach.

“What were they bothering you about that was so important Max lied to Billy?”

Eddie smirked and answered “oh you know; questions.”

Steve groaned.

They stood in silence while Steve watched Jonathan quietly scold Mike and Max for something.

“You can use my van.”

“What?”

“My van. To bring their bikes? There’s no way in hell they’re all fitting into your’s or Byers’s car.”

Steve watched as Mike and Lucas argued about the bikes while Max and Will talked behind them. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face in agitation. Steve placed his hands on his hips again and hit the inside of his cheek. Eddie watched him closely, finally noticing the ruffled hair and the plain gray t-shirt and way to short basketball shorts.

“Did you come over here straight from bed?” he asked.

Steve looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Yeah? What of it?”

“Dude it’s like 2pm.”

“Migraines knock me out.” he shrugged.

Another moment of silence went by until Steve sighed. “If you really don’t mind, letting us use your van would be great.”

Eddie watched Mike’s bike fall out for the fourth time and nodded. Just in time for Mike and Max to both call out in a whiny tone “STEEEEVEEEE!!”

Steve huffed and whined back “WHAAAAAT?” Eddie snickered.

“The bikes aren’t going to fit!” Lucas yelled, throwing his bike on the yard.

“Yeah I realized that. Thankfully, Eddie’s very nice and has offered to let us use his van.”

Mike and Lucas’ eyes lit up. “Can we—“

“Absolutely not.” Steve shut them down. “You four are going to ride with Jonathan and Robin back to the Byers’ while I run around with Eddie to drop off your bikes.”

Eddie nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Mike huffed.

“Steve,” Max called out quietly. “You’re not dropping mine off, right?”

Steve’s face softened and he smiled at her exasperatedly. “No, Max, you can toss your board in Jon’s trunk.”

She nodded and looked hesitant to walk away. The boys had already gotten in the car, and with one look around Max gave in and quickly hugged Steve. He patted her back and ruffled her hair and then she ran off to the car.

With final goodbyes and a promise to Robin to just call in sick next time, Steve and Eddie were left alone, Wayne going inside to take a nap.

Steve clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just me and you now, Munson.”

Oh boy.

…

Guess I am gonna need that part three 😭😭

I’ll take tags for part 3 if you guys want :)

Part 3 :)

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lizardaggro · 7 months

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on the flip side (twst bully!au) part 4

sorry this didn't get out sooner; my sleep issues are really upset (might be daylight savings?) and i spent most of the past few days feeling like a zombie. i'm better now though! it's also a bit shorter than i'd like, but i didn't want to leave you guys hanging. also two fics? in one day?? crazy!

part 1 part 2 part 3 genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, yandere has officially escalated word count: 897

“Child of man,” Malleus said. Even his voice felt suffocating. “Lilia has informed me that some… pests have been bothering you as of late.” He must mean the others. Did he really not know? Well, you supposed it wasn’t too farfetched, since he didn’t have any friends and everyone was afraid of him, especially after his Overblot. “You need only have let me know and I would have… taken care of them. But worry not. You’ll be safe here, where no one would dare to harm you.”

Oh no. Oh no no no. It was finally happening. Malleus had lost his mind. It felt a little nice, you’d admit, knowing that at least one person still cared for you. But that didn’t mean you could accept being trapped here for who knows how long. You still had to take care of Grim and attend classes. Not to mention you hated feeling trapped.

You knew you couldn’t count on anyone to save you. Lilia was the only one who might be able to make him see reason, but he seemed to be fully complicit in the matter. The dorm leaders might be somewhat capable if they worked together, but they’d have no motive for that, other than to torment you further.

Getting angry and yelling wouldn’t solve anything here. You had to be smart about it. “Tsunotarou, I can’t stay here. You know that,” you reasoned. “I have responsibilities to take care of. Besides, wouldn’t you grow tired of me? Everyone else did, after all.” You surprised yourself with how true your sentiments were. Maybe you harbored more negative feelings about all of this than you’d realized.

Naturally you were pissed that everyone turned on you, but you’d never really stopped to think about how lonely you’d been. Even your professors would hardly give you the time of day. You didn’t even know what you possibly could’ve done to set them off. Grim and the ghosts were the only ones whose attitudes never changed; but it wasn’t the same.

Malleus was pouting; there was simply no other way to describe the look on his face. “Surely you don’t mean that; not after everything they’ve done,” he quipped. Was he serious? In what way did he think you’d enjoy being trapped inside one tiny room for who knows how long?

“Yes. I do. And I don’t appreciate you taking away my freedom like this. If you really cared about me, you’d respect my wishes.” You hoped appealing to his emotions would work, no, you needed it to work. If it didn’t, you weren’t sure how long your sanity would last.

“I do care about you, Child of Man,” he objected. “Can’t you see that’s why I’m doing this? It isn’t safe out there. You’ll get hurt by those vile beings you once called friends.” He spat out that last word, like they were undeserving of the title. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

There was one thing you did know, however: this man was delusional. He’d gone paranoid with worries for your safety, even though he knew nothing just hours ago and was fine. He’d always been a little possessive, you’d noticed, but you’d brushed it off as him being afraid of losing his one and only friend. Now this? This was a whole new level.

Ah, but then you remembered. Malleus knew about most of the bullying, but not all of it. You doubted Lilia would’ve tattled on his own dorm members. You smiled, catching him off guard. “But am I any safer in here? I bet you don’t know, after all. You don’t know how Sebek would beat me in the halls, how Silver watches me everywhere I go. It’s creepy; I don’t like it. And I’m sure Lilia didn’t tell you how he tries to poison me with his cooking,” you listed calmly, as if you were having an ordinary conversation.

“They WHAT?!” Malleus shouted. “LILIA! SILVER! SEBEK! GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!” You flinched; he was usually so calm, you didn’t expect him to suddenly yell like that. It was good that he believed you, not that you were lying. You didn’t have a backup plan.

As the unfortunate trio entered the room, you made your way over to the door. You thought you’d managed to slip out unnoticed, but Lilia shot you a wink. Did that mean he’d keep his mouth shut about your escape? You could only hope.

You ran through the halls, Malleus’s shouting covering up the sounds of your footfalls. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so you weren’t at risk of getting lost. The only question was how long the lecture would last. If you were lucky, Lilia would buy you some time, but you wouldn’t count on it.

And then, at last, you were safe, on the other side of the portal. You were totally winded, after having had the run of your life. Everything seemed great, but then you heard a voice.

“Oya? What do we have here? What were you doing in Diasomnia, prefect?” Jade asked with a definitely fake smile like he didn’t know exactly what you were doing in Diasomnia. Oh, great. Azul was with him too. How… lovely. Staying with Malleus was starting to sound like it wasn’t so bad after all. No, nevermind. It was definitely worse.

taglist (CLOSED): @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx @trashlanternfish360 @probablynoposts @d3sperate-enuf @mono273 @help-whatdoimakemyusername @justuraverageeverydaydegenerate @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst bully!au #twst bully au #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #diasomnia #twisted wonderland silver #lilia vanrouge #azul ashengrotto #jade leech

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fanfictilltheend · 1 month

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❤️‍🔥Violent Heart Part 2: ♪Remember when I moved in you, and the holy dove was moving too ♫ (or the VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Covict!Joel x Afab!you one)❤️‍🔥

Hi I apologize that a lot of these reference pics are just of white girls. I tried to find "aesthetic" images that go with the story but so many of them are just of white people and I want to call myself out for this because in the fic's only descriptors are that she has hair and is AFAB -- nothing about race. I also realize that all of the girls in this are skinny too and Y/N's body type is never specified. Sorry fam!! These images are just to get the creative juices flowing and don't truly depict anything from the fic!!

A/n: It’s here!!!!!! 18+ Only. This took me 7 freaking months so you mofos better like, reblog, and comment. This is both my most and least personal fic I’ve ever written and it is dark and relies heavily on plot (smut this time tho!!) READ ALL OF THE TAGS DO NOT COME FOR ME UNLESS YOU DID THIS FR FR. This ones for my dark joel fangirlies(guys and NBies) and the daddy issues fam ily ❤️‍🔥 (also not me naming my fic in part after hallelujah by leonard cohen but there is a reason!!!!!!!!!!)

Summary: Part 2 picks up with Y/N at age 20 and how her relationship with Joel has changed and gets steamier. SMUT and feelings <3 Also check out this playlist of music that’s in the fic!!!!

Tags (PLEASE READ): Afab!you, pov change, Infidelity, threats, age gap, dressing Joel up (swear I wrote this before he wore that outfit to the SAG awards — the mr.Darcy-core one), racist comment (from Y/N’s douchey boyfriend), douchey boyfriend, confidence issues, feelings, voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), kissing, penis in vagina sex — unprotected (wear a condom), lightest hint of ass play, scar worship?? kinda??, daddy issues, daddy kink, using music lyrics to move the plot, multiple orgasms (m and f), religion and god discussions, stepcest (kinda bc technically he is divorced from her mother), tagging psuedo-incest just to be safe!!, use of y/n

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a little crush on Joel Miller. How could you not have? The first day you’d met him had been like some kind of fucked up yet extremely satisfying whirlwind of a daydream. He’d come in, broad and tall and strong, and saved you from your evil (though you do love him somewhere deep, deep down) older brother’s onslaught. Protected you like a knight in shining armor from his punching, beating fists. Treated and touched you so tenderly, so many miles different from how your own father did that you’d been hit with whatever the pleasant opposite of whiplash is. And the way he finally punished Aiden after years of his reign of terror, the violence of it, the justice of it. You didn’t have words for it then, but the way you looked into Joel’s eyes when he was doling out that righteous punishment became some kind of strange secret understanding between the two of you. Maybe it was the first sign of love? You aren’t sure.

As a kid, he’d given you what you like to think of as quiet butterflies. They were always there when he spoke to you, looked at you, touched you, beat the shit out of your father and brother for you, but they were faint enough that you could ignore them. It was a comforting, fluttering kind of love, a gradual understanding of your loyalty to one another. But then puberty hit and the insects became incessantly loud when you thought of, wrote to, or talked to him. They ate at your heart day after day while Joel was in prison – the longing, the missing. Aiden told you that you were obsessed with him. Your mother told you to forget him, that he would forget you. But somehow, he didn’t. You wonder if those bugs live in him too. You wonder if they are quiet or loud and if they gnaw .

You think that they are probably loud. You think this for a few reasons. The first is that you know for a fact, you can feel it in the lining of your soul, and from the evidence of his constant correspondence and care for you, that he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him. The second reason is the fact that you think but aren’t one hundred percent sure is that the last time you’d hugged him he’d gotten a little hard (you don’t want to think too much into that because he is only a man who had been deprived of touch for a long time – but still you wonder…). And the third is the way he looks at you like you are the universe like you are the last drop of nectar and he is the last butterfly left on Earth in a famine.

That’s how he’s looking at you now in the passenger seat of his old, clunky pickup. You know that he wanted to drive, but you wanted to show him how well you could because he had never seen. Never had the chance to see how well you had fixed, maintained, and took care of his baby and of course he gave into you like he always does. He's smiling at you quietly, but his eyes contain multitudes. Right now mostly pride at your driving.

Joel is a bit different than how you remember sitting near him in the truck the last time you were together, him as a free man, you as a little girl. Somehow, even though you are obviously bigger now, he still seems massive and broad and stronger than ever. His biceps are huge – probably from all the time he had to work out in prison – and peeking out under his blue t-shirt that you brought for him, you think you see the outlines of some tattoos. You look a little closer. On his right arm is text in curvy black ink. You think it reads, “Sarah.” You smile softly at that. On his other arm is a strange orange shape that you have to squint at to understand. The edges of the object are jagged but they form a shape like a badge – and then you know what it is! It is the guitar pick you made for Joel as a child. The one that had pricked his finger and drawn blood and he stuck it in his wallet. You can’t articulate how honored you feel that Joel loved you enough to tattoo something you made for him on his body, permanently, forever.

“ Well , the light only turned green damn near eons ago,” he complains about your driving, but you know he is just teasing.

There is hardly anything wrong you can ever do in Joel’s eyes. He grins at you a bit lopsidedly and you smile back. You also can’t help but notice the greying of his brown hair. It’s a bit longer than it used to be too and the length gives it a little bit less of a shaggy look. You think it suits him, makes him look a bit older and more distinguished than when he first came into your life twelve years ago.

Objectively, you know it’s weird to think that your ex-stepdad who is a convicted felon is hot, but it’s just something you’ve always known and thought like that the sky is blue or that orange is your favorite color. You know it’s weird to think of someone who was? – is? – supposed to be a father figure to you that way, but it’s already second nature at this point. You’ve had a few boyfriends (luckily all of them had treated you right), but none of the feelings you’ve ever had for them have compared to the cosmic-sized love and affection you have for Joel and you’ve never known anything different. The years you spent longing, missing, loving, obsessing over, and aching for him in every way under the sun, can’t be healthy, you know this, but they have eclipsed practically every other relationship in your life. No one has ever made you feel as safe and protected and loved as Joel has. No one else has ever looked at you the way he does. No one else’s entire existence has revolved around you the way his has. The sheer devotion in his gaze is enough to make the butterflies inside you scream and beat their wings against your insides like hungry bats.

And you especially know you shouldn’t have these feelings about another human being violent enough to be capable of taking a life – inebriated or not. You’re grown now and know the man he killed was a scum-of-the-Earth child predator, and secretly you’ve always wondered if there was more to the story than Joel told the police in the official court transcripts you’d read as an adult, maybe even something to do with you since you had been there that day in the repair shop when they met , but you haven’t pressed because you’re sure the whole thing is quite traumatic for Joel and if he ever wants to tell you, you know he will. And more importantly, you don’t really care. Drunken, violent idiot or not, you were already deeply invested and never intended on wavering in that. You’re not sure there’s anything Joel could do to get you to stop loving him and that both terrifies and excites you.

“Okay, whatcha wanna eat?” you ask, reaching out to rub Joel’s shoulder gently. “Now that you’re free you can have whatever you want! On my mom’s credit card of course. Swear I won’t tell her.”

Joel grins.

“Deal,” he tells you. “I was thinking of a nice steak dinner.”

***

You pull into the fanciest restaurant you can find in the tri-state area and sit down to order a regal, all-American, full three-course steak dinner (though you’re both woefully underdressed – not that you care – though the host gives you a dirty look). All the while, you tell Joel about your major (psychology) and how you want to become a counselor for abused children.

“That’s sort of beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you with a genuine smile that used to be so hard to coax from him, but now seems to float over to you so easily and gently like a kiss from something as soft as the wings of a butterfly. “Wanting to help defenseless children. You’re kinda like a guardian angel for them, ya know? Damn proud of ya! Also, these mashed potatoes are goddamn delectable!” he exclaims after taking an experimental bite. “Have I mentioned that prison food is shit?”

You smile bashfully and want to tell him that he is your guardian angel (you wonder if he thinks the same of you) and inspiration in a backward sort of way for wanting to help kids in the first place since he was so good at protecting you for the most part (though you obviously don’t believe violence is the correct answer in your line of future work). But kids need protectors. Somehow you know that deep down you forgive him for all of the violence he caused because you would forgive him for anything. And him being proud of you? You don’t think there’s a better feeling in the world than that! You burst with pride. Your real father never said that to you, but Joel doesn’t feel like your father now. He is something different entirely. Something that entirely belongs to you.

“And you’ll meet my boyfriend, Max, tomorrow,” you nod as Joel moves onto the steak and lets out a soft moan at how good it tastes. “He’s heard a lot about you.”

Joel’s face flattens.

“And who is this kid exactly?” he sneers a little, attacking the steak with his knife.

You smile internally at the obvious jealousy he’s trying to hide from his voice.

“Hey, Max is a decent guy!” you insist in his defense. “He’s pre-law. Real smart. He’s gonna be an important person someday, I know it. You’ll get on.”

That last part is a bit of a lie since you’re not sure the two will actually like each other.

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

“All I know is, just because someone is important, don’t mean they’re good to you or for you for that matter.”

You can’t help but think of your father, the most “important” man you know and how much of a degenerate he is compared to someone ostensibly average like Joel who didn’t even have a status symbol like a college degree and how perfect of a man you think he is, despite his obvious flaws. You blush a little, scrunching up your nose.

“Just lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,” he continues, smiling at the way you do. “He ever fuck with you – he ever break your heart, you know just where to send him, alright?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you grin. “Don’t need you getting any more jail time though, alright?” “You may have made a valid point,” he concedes with a smirk.

***

When you two enter your shitty, one-bedroom apartment it’s already dark outside. Joel actually grins when he notices his and your guitars have both been mounted on the wall.

“We can play ‘em tomorrow,” you tell him excitedly. “If you want to, I mean…”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Joel smiles. “Wanna hear ya singing for me, honey. I missed that.”

You smile to yourself.

“You can have my bed, and I’ll take the couch,” you decide, getting back to business.

“No way, babygirl. I ain’t taking your bed.”

“Joel, you’ve literally been on a prison mattress for eight fucking years! Can’t imagine that’s been very comfortable.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t mind the couch. That’ll feel like heaven to me. Don’t want you messin’ up your back, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists.

“Alright, alright,” you concede, knowing by the look on his face he’s not budging. If one thing, Joel has always been stubborn, but you like that about him. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, baby, if ya don’t mind, I’d like a quick shower. Been dreaming about taking a real, private one for ages.”

“Yeah, of course!” you nod, motioning toward your bathroom door. “Towels are under the sink.”

Joel makes his way inside and soon steam is billowing out the bottom of the door.

You busy yourself with some homework, but just as you walk past the door to grab a glass of water, you think you hear Joel singing.

You listen more closely over the fall of the running water and make out him singing the chorus of an old ABBA song with a deeper, sadder tone to it,

♪ “ Slipping through my fingers all the time / I try to capture every minute / The feeling in it / Slipping through my fingers all the time / Do I really see what's in her mind? / Each time I think I'm close to knowing / She keeps on growing / Slipping through my fingers all the time…” ♫

You feel like such a sap, but you feel a tear forming in your eye at the way Joel must be thinking about his and your relationship and everything he missed in your life. You aren’t mad at him, but his absence hurt in a way you didn’t know you could feel. And you’ve never blamed him, really, but the lack of him for eight years of milestones really did kill a piece of you. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly at the bottom of your stomach with its wings pulled off. That’s how you felt all that time without Joel – like a butterfly without wings. A writhing worm of a human being, senseless and lost in a giant world full of forces you couldn’t control.

You listen to Joel’s beautiful, deep voice until you hear him turn off the tap and you scurry away and act innocent.

Joel emerges from the bathroom then with nothing but a white towel around his waist, steam from the shower floating lazily into the room behind him like precession. And oh, wow, is he ever a sight to behold. His hair is wet, dark brown flecked with grey, and starting to get curly from the moisture. You also can’t help but notice his broad chest, the expanse of it, the dark curls of hair, his bulking, muscular tattooed arms, his soft, hairy tummy, the V-shape of muscle that descends beneath the towel, his happy trail. You are overwhelmed by the soaking beauty of him. You’d seen Joel shirtless before, sure, but it had never felt like this .

“Gon’ grab some of those clothes you bought for me and then maybe we could watch something?” Joel asks as you try so fucking hard not to stare at him.

“Sure!” you squeak, staring down at your notebook at the kitchen counter.

You think you see a smirk from Joel, but you're not sure because your gaze is averted as he grabs some clothes to change into and disappears back into the bathroom.

When he reemerges, dressed in a wifebeater and shorts that accentuate his form, you two sit next to each other on your cushy sofa and surf the TV for something to watch. You feel Joel’s hairy knees against your jean-clad one and your heart flutters.

“Can’t believe I’m really here,” Joel says softly as you pass re-runs of Full House, a dog show. “Like I gotta fuckin’ pinch myself to know it’s not a dream.”

Suddenly you feel a large, weathered hand on your cheek.

“Missed you so much, babygirl,” he murmurs, looking into your eyes, massaging the line of your jaw ever so lightly, trying to hold your skittish gaze. “More than I even have words for.”

First, you avoid looking at him a bit bashfully, but then you stare up cautiously into those big brown eyes that feel like a familiar kind of home and you’re such a goner. You lean into his warmth, the warmth of his hand.

“Missed you too, Joel. So much,” you admit, never wanting this moment to end or him to let go of you. “More than anything.”

He leans forward a little and for a second you think…but then he’s leaning in and planting a heavy kiss on your forehead. A kiss that has weight to it – not those soft, weak ones that Max gives you haphazardly when he’s drunk or high – the only time he’s brave enough to be vulnerable with you. This kiss says something, means it so sincerely too.

“Love you, honey,” he tells you. Then his face falls. “Sorry I…wasn’t quite there to say that to you enough in person.”

“It’s okay, Joel. I forgive you,” you insist. “I love you so much, dummy. More than you even know!”

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment.

***

You settle on an old, black and white classic, Paper Moon, that’s playing on the TV Land channel.

Joel wraps a big arm around you and you snuggle close. You’re pretty sure there isn’t a better feeling in the world than being this close to him. Even after all these years he still smells like Joel; like home (and, if you’re being honest, a bit like your vanilla shampoo) .

You lean against him, your cheek pressing into one of his firm pecs. You begin to feel sleepy, drunk on the steady sound of his heartbeat, alive and beating against you and really here .

You nod off.

***

At first, you don’t believe it, but you feel someone with strong, firm arms lifting you into the air, cradling your back and the insides of your knees in a bridal-style carry. The movement wakes you, but you don’t open your eyes because the safety and security you feel is too good to give up. Joel carries you to your bedroom and lays you down gently in your bed. You’re still in day clothes and shoes so Joel takes off your worn sneakers with a feather-light touch and places them at the foot of the bed – you can tell from the soft thumps it makes. He maneuvers you so tenderly under the covers and tucks you in with love and care. You wonder the last time someone did that for you and pull up a blank. If anyone ever did that for you it was probably Joel. Maybe your mom did when you were really young. Certainly your father nor Aiden ever did – your father hadn’t liked to touch you except out of anger – kind of like you had some kind of weird, contagious disease. Aiden’s hands had almost always hurt too, but not Joel’s – never his.

He breaks you from your thoughts by pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are still closed so you aren’t sure, but you think he watches you for a second and lets out a long sigh.

Then you hear your bedroom door close softly so as not to disturb you. You smile, you can’t help it, and drift back off into a peaceful sleep.

***

You wake up to a mumbling, grunting sort of sound. You look over at your clock and read 3:42 a.m. You sit up. You can kind of hear some muffled noises coming from outside your room. At first, you feel a little concerned – like maybe Joel is in pain or something as he is the only one who could be making the noises. The walls in your apartment are paper-thin. Like you could hear him sneeze clear as day if he were to because sound travels through the shitty walls so easily. You should have told him that. But what the fuck is he doing up at 3 a.m.?

You creep (and you mean creep) silently to the door of your bedroom and open it the tiniest crack. The way your apartment is laid out, the back of the sofa is the first thing you see and the back of Joel’s head about six feet away. He doesn’t sound in pain the way he’s groaning and then you understand exactly what he’s doing. Of course the man is jerking off! After being in prison, stuck around people for so long of course he wanted a good, private wank. He isn’t looking at anything from what you can tell, no magazines or anything. Must be using his imagination. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s gotten good at that over the years.

You should turn around, slink back into bed, and cover your ears with a pillow so the man can have some privacy. But, fuck, the way he’s grunting. His voice is so fucking deep and sexy and then he lets out a soft, vulnerable moan and you feel heat envelope your whole body. You think you hear a soft fuck roll off his tongue and your heart almost beats right out of your chest. You can hear the lewd slapping of his fist on skin getting louder and more intense. Then you hear a soft take it, fuck. And Jesus, you are so fucking wet between your thighs. You ought to be ashamed. Instead, you reach down your hand feverishly beneath the band of your jeans and soaking underwear instinctively to stroke yourself ever so slightly. You sigh in relief, but you are fucking gushing, your fingers covered in your slick. You can’t see anything besides the back of Joel’s head, technically, so this couldn’t be that wrong, could it? He lets out a soft groan, you can tell he’s holding back so as not to be heard, but the desperation in the pathetic little noises this hulking man is making is turning on every switch inside you. Oh how you want to go over there and take him in your mouth, to taste him. God you are so fucked up! You’re still touching yourself gently, not really fully going at it yet, considering the possibilities that could follow if you went over there. But before you can decide to do anything, Joel positively whines, moans, and grunts fuck, unh, and you think but aren’t sure, babygirl, and finishes.

You stop dead still in what you’re doing. Did he really say “babygirl” or was that just your horny-ass imagination playing tricks on you? You’ve never heard Joel call anyone babygirl except you. Was he really thinking of you? On the one hand, if true, mega fucked up. On the other, wow, incredibly hot. You think about going over there and asking him to finish you off or something as crazy as in all those dumb romance novels you used to read in middle school, but just as quickly as the idea comes to you, you hear another noise: loud snoring. Joel is asleep.

Typical.

You snort to yourself. That was so quintessentially Joel. You don’t want to disturb him now. The moment has passed. And only then is when you remember you have a fucking boyfriend.

That doesn’t stop you from closing your door softly, crawling back into bed, and reaching your hand down beneath your panties to touch yourself. You stroke your clit, imagining it is Joel’s rough hand rubbing against you. Holy fuck. You haven’t been this wet since you used to touch yourself thinking about him in the past. It’s like he can reach every part of you, every layer in a way that no one else can. You know the whole thing is so fundamentally fucked up, but you can resist sinking into your favorite fantasy. The smell, the touch, the feel of him. You imagine the noises he was making so beautifully on the couch, feel heat coil through your entire body, and immediately cum hard without even sticking a finger inside yourself.

The pleasure you feel is so unparalleled and real you have to cover your hand with your mouth not to scream out your powerful orgasm.

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down.

God, you are so fucked.

***

The next morning you wake up to the wafting smell of someone cooking eggs. You emerge from your room a little sheepishly from last night’s events to find Joel behind the kitchen counter making eggs and toast.

“Mornin’, babygirl,” he grins, his eyes shining like he’s excited about something.

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

“Good morning, Joel,” you beam at him.

You were so afraid things would feel awkward after what you heard last night, but nothing ever feels awkward with Joel. In some ways, he’s still just your average dorky, friendly old ex-stepdad, convicted felon. In other ways, everything about him sets your heart on fire, but it would be stupid to ruin what you have with him because you think it’s remotely possible he might be interested back. You know this is dramatic, but if he flat-out rejected you, you think you might die. Truly. Like those butterflies inside you would beat their wings so hard they’d burst your heart.

“‘Membered you liked ‘em poached,” he nods, breaking you from your thoughts.

He scoops two poached eggs onto one of your plates and grabs a piece of toast from the toaster which he smears with butter like how you used to eat toast as a kid. You can’t believe he remembered.

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

He grabs a few eggs and toast for himself and sits beside you at the counter.

“Nice to be able to cook me ‘n you some real food,” he remarks. “If I eat one more cup o’ noodles in my lifetime I swear to God Almighty…” he trais off.

He’s looking at you like you put the goddamned sun in the sky. Your heart melts as you stare at his features, the faint curls in his hair. Oh, how you want to reach out and touch him. But that just isn’t how you operate. You won’t ruin what you already have.

The butterflies in your chest howl.

***

` You lay out the day’s schedule to Joel. You have plenty of time to hang about (you see him eyeing the guitars), and then you need to go shopping for some actual clothes for Joel since the things you brought for him don’t constitute a proper wardrobe. Then you will go out to dinner and meet Max.

Joel grunts a nod at that last part. He doesn’t seem too thrilled.

“Wanna show me what you’ve been playing?” he asks hopefully as he gets up to put both of your plates in the sink,

“‘Course!” you nod enthusiastically. “Max says I need to work on my fingerpicking so I can’t promise it’ll be all that good.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

You sit down on the couch right next to Joel, each of you holding your respective guitars in hand, across your laps.

Joel looks ecstatic to have his guitar back in his hands. He fiddles with the tuning and finger-picks a faint melody.

“Haven’t played one since the prison band. But then some dumb motherfucker clobbered another sorry son of a bitch to death with a saxophone so that ended our music privileges,” Joel explains.

“Jeez,” you reply.

Joel is sitting so close you can feel his body heat. You just want to hear him sing, but he insists on hearing you.

“Joel,” you try as innocently as possible. “D’you remember how to do an A-flat? I forget and I need it for my song.”

“Sure, baby. Lemme help ya. Now put one finger on this bit of the 4th fret here,” he begins, snaking a big arm around your shoulders so he can maneuver your fingers to the correct position.

His touch is electric. He feels so good and warm. You feel the intense urge to climb into his lap and embrace and stay there forever. His big caloused hand full of scars places your fingers correctly for the chord. The same hand that must have jerked himself to completion last night…You can’t help but wonder how much cum there was…The truth is, you know how to make an A-flat. You just wanted to feel him.

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

“There we go,” he says soothingly, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “That one can be tricky. Now where is my performance?”

Your nerves are squirming around inside you but you begin to play and sing to the best of your ability.

You look into Joel’s eyes.

♪“ You've got a heart on fire / It's bursting with desire / You've got a heart filled with passion / Will you let it burn for hate or compassion?” ♫ you sing.

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter.

♪ “What's the point with a love / That makes you hate and kill for? ♪

You sing as best and as seriously as you can. You look up and think you maybe see a tear in Joel’s eye.

When you finish, it’s clear Joel is finding it hard to select the right words to convey what he’s feeling.

“I–” he tries. “That was…well, let me just show you how I can answer that if anyone ever could to a performance as beautiful as that.”

You blush.

He begins to finger-pick a familiar tune, Instantly, you are transported back to eight years old in the back of Joel’s old pickup truck, listening to one of his many cassette tapes. It’s “I’ll Never Find Another You” by The Seekers. The original version of the song is pretty happy and upbeat, but the way Joel sings it slowly in his deep and weathered voice makes you feel sad and achy inside. The emotion behind his voice is palpable.

♪ “But if I should lose your love, dear / I don't know what I'd do / For I know I'll never find another you / Another you / Another you…” ♫ he trails off.

It’s your turn to tear up a little. It’s crazy to know he means every word he’s singing too. He sings like every word is his last breath. When he finishes you are crying a little.

“You oughta record an album,” you sniffle, leaning into his shoulder, throwing him a side hug.

“Wanted to be a singer,” he replies with a small grin, leaning his head against yours. “Back when I was young.”

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

“Don’t tell nobody really,” Joel replies, looking a bit sad you left his immediate proximity. “Just a stupid dream ‘n all that crap.”

“‘S not stupid,” you tell him. “You really have a beautiful voice, Joel. It’s like if I could take it, hold on to it, and keep it forever in my chest pocket next to my heart, I would.”

“That’s where I keep you, baby,” he tells you honestly.

He reaches up a big hand to yours and guides your own to place it right on his heart over his plaid shirt. You can feel it beating steadily below your palm to the rhythm of something as delicate and ferocious as the beating of butterfly wings.

“Right here.”

***

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a Hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end, you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively.

Finally, you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed-up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the men’s version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

When you finally ditch all the fun clothes and grab the essentials, Joel offers to go pick up the car while you pay. He tries to give you his eight-year-old credit card, but you insist on treating him on the condition he buys the “monkey suit.” After a bit of prodding, he gives in and you go to the sales attendant to pay at the counter.

“Your dad is really cute,” the sales attendant giggles to you as she rings up the pile of clothes.

Your cheeks go a bit red. You don’t really care enough to correct her.

“He’s my guy,” is all you say absentmindedly as you fish out your wallet from your purse.

The sales attendant hands you the receipt and on it, you see a scrawled phone number.

“For If he’s single,” she explains. “I’m Barb from sales.”

You look her over. She’s close to Joel’s age and conventionally pretty with long brown hair. The exact kind of woman Joel should be dating should he choose to get back in the game. Your stomach twists and the butterflies howl inside you.

You take the receipt, thank her, and join Joel back in the car (who is more than happy to be driving this time).

“What took so long?” he asks casually. “You two writing a novel in there?”

You think seriously about what you should do. You consider letting the bugs have their way and tearing the receipt with Barb’s number on it to shreds. But you want good things for Joel. The chance of you two ever being together the way you wish is so far-fetched that you know you shouldn’t even be thinking it. A literal pipe dream. He was your stepdad for christsakes. He literally fucked your mother! (Gross!). Barb is exactly the kind of woman Joel should be going after if he’s up to dating right now. You hand him the receipt begrudgingly.

“Sales Lady likes you,” you sat flatly. “Name is Barb.”

“Oh,” he says softly like he’s a bit flattered.

He looks back at her through the glass door of the store and she waves at him. He waves back politely. You feel your stomach twisting into knots.

“You think…you think you’re gonna call her?” you finally ask as casually as humanly possible, dreading the answer.

Joel looks over at you, his gaze sweeping over you. Then looks back at Barb through the window. He looks her up and down.

“Nah,” he says with a smirk, looking back at you. “She ain’t my type. Only need one girl in my life right now anyways,” he winks.

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

Regardless, you smile back and then sigh in relief and grin to yourself as you two drive away.

Much to your satisfaction, Joel crumples up the receipt and throws it out the window for good measure.

***

You get ready for dinner, to go to a nice Mexican-Japanese fusion restaurant that Max picked out. You wear a red dress that accentuates your figure and matching heels and to your shock, Joel reemerges from the bathroom in the white button-down shirt and black dress pants you picked out for him (you had been sure flannel would be part of his ensemble). God, he looks good. A part of you wants to ditch Max and just stay here with Joel forever. He looks you over, his dark eyes sweeping over your frame. You think there is a tinge of possessiveness in his voice when he says,

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

You arrive before Max and sit down at the fancy white table-cloth-covered table next to Joel, a booth facing you. Max finally makes an appearance a half hour late and sits down across from you, sweeping his hair out of his face, sliding into the booth. Joel is frowning and the butterflies beat their wings inside you nervously.

“Sorry I’m late,” Max announces, puffing out his chest a little and smoothing out his collared shirt as he looks down at his watch and then over at Joel. “Hey, baby,” he says to you. Then, “And, uh, nice to meet you. Joe, was it? Heard a lot about you.”

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

Max is a good-looking guy, everyone says so, but he looks more like a little boy than you’ve ever thought as he squirms uneasily in his seat under Joel’s unrelenting gaze and launches into a tirade about his frat’s inter-mural lacrosse team practice and how his team should have totally won the scrimmage and that’s why he’s late. And of course, he was the one to score the most goals.

“And the taxi cab driver was a nightmare. Only spoke Spanish. It’s like, if you come to this country speak fucking English, am I right?”

You notice Joel’s jaw tighten and his fingers clench.

“Max, that’s so rude!” you tell him, frowning. “We’re at a fucking Mexican restaurant!”

“Anyway,” Max continues, rolling his eyes at the interruption like he barely even heard you, smirking. “Where’d you go to school? What do you do for work, Joel? Besides making license plates, I mean. Kidding!” he insists as you stare daggers at him.

Joel leans forward ever so slightly but you slip your leg over his to hold him back and he calms down a fraction. It’s like when you touch him, everything tense in him melts away.

Joel sits up straighter in his chair and looks at you, stretching his arm across the back of your seat protectively like it’s a casual thing and not an unconscious sign of possessiveness.

“I’m a mechanic,” he grunts unceremoniously to Max. “I mean, I was anyways…Didn’t go to school.”

Max frowns ever so slightly.

“You didn’t go to college? You must’ve gone to trade school at least?”

“Nope. Picked up what I know over the years. Not everyone gets a free ride from their parents,” Joel smirks.

“Free ride?” Max snaps. “I’ll have you know I spend every summer interning at a law firm!”

“Yeah, your dad’s,” you can’t help but snicker.

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

“At least I’m not a psych major,” he shoots back. “I mean, no offense, babe!”

“What’s wrong with psychology?” Joel snarls, his eyes darkening. “You ought to be proud to have such a thoughtful and intelligent girl like Y/N studying such a topic.”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to go pink.

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers.

That makes you feel a bit better.

“I’m just saying, she could have inherited the second-best law firm in the tri-state area from her pops if she was pre-law like me,” he smirks.

Your smile fades, used to hearing this kind of shit from him. He knows you and your father don’t get along at all, but not the full extent of it. He also knows you don’t have an interest in pre-law. But you swallow down how you really feel.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you tell him, placing a hand down on his thigh.

It’s not that you enjoy the way Max has been talking to you, but you are so used to it from the men in your life that it feels like the common denominator must be you. And sometimes it feels like maybe they have some kind of point. And fighting back only makes things worse. You’ve learned that over the years the hard way.

“It’s not fine!” he snaps like he’s trying to get you to see sense, looking deeply insulted on your behalf. Your heart thunders in your chest. “This boy has never worked an honest day in his life and he’s telling you what you ought to be doing? Bet his hands are soft as a baby’s ass. He doesn’t know shit about you, babygirl.”

You may not know the hardship of labor that Joel has taken on in his life, but your hands are not smooth. They are full of scars. And Joel is right. Max’s are soft like silk. You look down at the most prominent, ugly scar on your middle finger. You don’t even know which man in your life gave it to you. But you do know it means something. Shows you survived something. Survived your stupid father too, not that Max seems to care.

But Max never loses.

“Whatever,” he smirks dismissively. “Sorry I’m not some, like, common blue-collar worker. But I guess I should be taking advice from someone who became a fucking convicted felon ‘cause they drank too much one night,” he shrugs with a terrible sneer.

You know it’s over then.

But Joel surprises you. Doesn’t immediately strangle Max like you thought he might. Simply stands up tall and silent over Max’s frame which has suddenly begun to shake ever so slightly in obvious fear, his blue eyes widening. Joel’s fists are clenched tightly at his sides.

“Wouldn’t mind them sendin’ me right back in, ” Joel growls low. “Drunk or not.”

You shiver and Max positively cowers.

“Got something to say? Don’t wanna take it outside?” Joel leers, smirking ever so slightly at the trembling boy before him. “I’d even let a little boy like you take the first swing.”

“Your stepdad’s a freak, Y/N,” Max stammers, not taking his eyes off of Joel.

“Joel, it’s fine, okay?” you growl, not wanting him to actually hurt your boyfriend. Let alone in public! “Shouldn’t talk about Joel like that though, Max! Jesus!”

“Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” Max tries, eyeing back and forth between you and Joel. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t get what you see in him with a real Dad like yours! Your dad has so much to give you!”

Look out for you? So much to give you? What could he possibly give besides a stupid law firm and two black eyes?

Max looks a bit desperate. Him apologizing for anything is actually a new concept for you. Your heart twitches ever so slightly. He must actually like you a lot. But Joel would never do anything to hurt you if it was in his power. At least not intentionally, unlike your real father.

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Joel snarls moodily, turning around. “Don’t want to do things I might regret to Mr.Future-Corporate-Lawyer over here. Have fun with him .”

Joel looks deeply hurt. Like you are choosing Max over him or something. That’s never what this has been about, has it? Doesn’t Joel know you’d do anything for him? That the hurt on his face hurts you more than anything you’ve ever felt. Ever.

“Joel, wait!” you decide and disappear after him, leaving Max behind at the table.

“Babe, what the fuck!?” Max yells, but you don’t care. “Come back here!”

***

You ride back in silence, Joel’s hands turning white against his grip on the steering wheel.

When you break through to the front door of your apartment, Joel finally snaps, the anger on his face directed at something that feels like you for the first time in your life.

“You really love that little son of a bitch, don’t you?” he sneers, uncharacteristically harshly towards you.

“So what if I did?” you shoot back, a little shocked. “It’s none of your business, Joel. What the fuck?”

“It is so my business,” he snaps back. “That kid is no good for you, Y/N. He doesn’t understand you. You deserve someone much better than that who will actually go to the ends of the earth for you. He wouldn’t do anything for you.”

There is a desperation and vulnerability in Joel’s words and tone that you’re not sure you’ve heard before. He sounds like he had been waiting the whole car ride to say this, maybe even his whole life. You aren’t sure.

“Max does give a shit about me,” you try to convince yourself, getting angrier. “I mean at least he was there for me while you were gone.”

Joel flinches.

“How do you know what’s so good for me and what’s not when you dipped out of my life for eight years?” you continue harshly. “Because why? It wasn’t because you were drunk, was it? It was because you couldn’t control your anger. You never could.”

He stares at you.

“I controlled it for you,” Joel says so quietly you almost miss it. “ You are the only reason I did any of it.”

“What?” you stammer, not sure you want to hear more. “W-what do you mean, Joel? Any of what?”

A million thoughts begin to run through your mind, but you push them aside. Theories about the case and your ideas of Joel’s true nature all threaten to drown you but you push them away.

“Do you want to know why I really killed that sick son of a bitch?” Joel asks dangerously after a long moment of silence. You stare at him, your body frozen. He looks down at his hands, flexing them like he can still feel them punching or around that disgusting man’s throat. “Why I killed him all those years ago? It was no accident, I’ll give you that. Manslaughter, my ass. I killed that scum of the Earth because he threatened you . To do terrible things to you with those disgusting hands of his. So I broke each one, but it wasn’t enough. I killed him because I didn’t want you to get hurt and because I didn’t want you to live in fear of him. I was tired, Y/N. Tired of being afraid for you in a world that doesn’t let you do shit except fight back. I loved you so much, Y/N, it hurt me. It scared me, but I couldn’t let him hurt you. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again, not him, not your father, not Max, not anyone. You have to understand. I love –”

And then it’s all over. You’re not sure who moves first, but you think it might be you. The butterflies are rustling and thundering and screeching inside you and you kiss him. And Joel kisses back, devouring your mouth in his. You grab the back of his graying brown hair and pull him as close to you as you think is humanly possible. He cradles the back of your head so gently you almost lose your breath. And you are kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing. There is nothing else in the universe except this kiss. You have never felt anything like this in your life. It is like every butterfly inside you has gone silent. It is like the world has stopped just for you and something new is forming inside you.

Joel killed that vile man for you. To keep you safe. Like he always said or showed that he would. He gave his life away for you. He did the unspeakable for you.

He bites down on your bottom lip and all your brain can manage to coherently think is: more, harder .

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

NO! your heart cries out, the delicious pleasure and pain draining away from you. The butterflies swarm dangerously inside your chest, worse with every inch he travels from your lips.

“Joel,” you whine. “What? You…you don’t want–”

“Don’t even say that, Y/N,” he growls dangerously. “Of course I want you. How could I not? I have spent my entire life wanting you in some capacity, baby, but I ain’t no good for you either, alright? I…” he says slowly like it takes every inch of his body to agree to say this. “I am not a good man, Y/N. I never have been. I’ve done wrong in every chapter of my life. You deserve someone much better. I don’t want to hurt you. Physically or mentally. Our history… The damage I’ve done…” he trails off.

“You don’t understand,” you swallow, tears forming in your eyes. “You have already loved and hurt me more than any human being on planet Earth. And yet somehow there is nothing you could do that would keep me away from you, don’t you get that? The Joel Miller I love is not a good man and I don’t care. I want all of you. All of the pretty and crooked pieces you try to hide away from me. You killed a man with your bare hands, arguably one of the worst things a human can do, and I don’t care. I still want you, Joel. Maybe even more because of it. No one has ever loved me the way you do and that is the love I want and it terrifies me.”

A single tear falls down Joel’s right cheek. You reach up to wipe it away, but Joel grabs your hand on the way reflexively, so you help him wipe his own tears away.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I would move the Earth for you,” Joel whispers back.

“I know,” you nod. “I’ve always known. I–”

But he is kissing you again before you can say another word, like a man starved. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingers caressing his stubbly beard.

“ Joel,” you whine when you break for air.

“I wanted this so badly,” he says softly, grinning a lopsided grin. “Can’t believe this is real.”

“Me too,” you giggle.

You have to lean up a bit, but you press your forehead to his gently.

“Oh, baby,” Joel smirks. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, ya know that? You like

it when I go a little rough, honey?” he smirks down at you in satisfaction, reading your mind.

You have to stop yourself from getting lost in the warm pools of his brown eyes, your panties soaked.

He reaches an affectionate hand down to rub your side softly.

“This okay, babygirl?” he coos, massaging his hand down your torso.

“I’d let you do anything to me, don’t you know?” you snicker. “Pain or pleasure, it’s all the same to me. I like all of that. I just want you so bad.”

“Think a safe word is in order,” Joel grins, leaning down to kiss your neck. “How about ‘butterflies?’” you suggest.

“Sounds good to me, baby,” he grins, looking genuinely happy for the first time in hours.

He leans down and places a calloused hand around your throat, not squeezing (yet – you hope) and plants soft kisses and bites down your expanse of skin.

“All mine,” he mutters into your skin. “My beautiful babygirl.”

You feel his erection pressing against you through his black dress pants which makes you moan softly.

His hand trails over your crotch and he starts rubbing over the tight fabric of your red dress.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

Oh shit. You don’t mean to say it like that! You know it is about ten levels of fucked up to call Joel that, but how is it your fault that in every fantasy that’s how you think of him? You figure you’re probably past the point of weird and every other standard of decency, but you’re still afraid.

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

“No, no, baby,” Joel says quickly. “It’s alright, you can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“You think it’s weird,” you mumble again, further stupid tears forming in your eyes.

He snickers.

“Baby, I think we’re beyond weird at this point. Let me show you how turned on it makes me.”

Joel takes your hand and places it on his crotch. He takes your left hand, the one with the scar and you cringe a little, but he is rock-hard.

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Daddy likes that more than you know, alright?”

You take your hand back, smiling, but you cover your scarred finger, shocked he will allow this fantasy for you.

“Whatcha hidin’ from me, baby?” he asks, noticing the positioning of your hands.

“I hate that scar on my finger. ‘S so ugly,” you admit.

Joel looks flabbergasted.

“That’s the last damn thing I think of when I look at you. Ugly? Who in the fuck told you that?”

“How it got there is ugly. It’s marred skin, looks gross,” you mumble.

Joel moves to take out his cock, and when you nod he unzips and unbuttons his dress pants, pulling out his length. You have fantasized about his cock for god knows how long so you are more than excited to see it. He reaches to place your left hand with the scarred fingers around the length of his dick, which is thick, but longer than you expected. The leaking head is almost purple and your mouth begins to water as you stroke him gently.

“It’s part of you,” Joel tells you, his eyes connecting with yours. “I love it. It shows you survived. Gonna jerk off to it, Daddy loves it so much. And when I’m done you’re gonna love it too. Swear I’ve got so many over the years I can barely even count ‘em. Even got a few on my middle finger. Maybe even one from a certain guitar pick you made me. Nothing like that could ever make me stop wanting you, ya know that, right?”

You smile and take your time stroking him, wanting to show him how much you love and care for him, scars and all.

He grunts softly, closing his eyes, but then shoos your hand away with a feverish kind of want.

“Yeah, touch yourself now, baby. Daddy wants to see how wet you are for him. With that scarred finger. C’mon, now. ‘S gonna make you feel so good.”

You do as you’re told and reach down underneath your dress and begin to touch yourself, especially with your middle finger. You stroke your clit and then your dripping wet slit. You moan softly as Joel’s eyes rake over you, taking in every sigh and groan you emit. The butterflies are forming something big inside you, which presses against the inside of your tummy and ribcage.

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers.

He takes out your hand and begins to suck the slick off of each of your fingers, groaning deeply, making intense eye contact the whole time.

“Fuck, angel,” he moans, having a tough time keeping himself together, you can tell. “Taste and smell better than like how I pictured. Like you were fuckin’ made for me, I swear.”

He reaches a hand of his own down to stroke himself and his moans become more desperate. Finally, he sucks on your middle finger covered in your slick and groans so deeply you feel like you might cum untouched. He stares into your eyes.

“ Mine, ” he growls possessively. “Oh, shit! Gonna–”

Then he takes your left hand and leads it to meet his throbbing cock. You stroke him, harder this time, fisting his thick length, moaning softly and that does it for him.

Joel cums all over your hand, oozing white globs of cum over your fingers, once, twice, three times.

“Fuuuuuck, babygirl,” he groans. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry! Couldn’t help it. Yeah, suck it off, baby. That’s it,” he commands, and you do, licking up all of his cum, even the part that got on your middle finger.

When Joel comes down he still looks half-crazed with desire.

“Sorry about the, uh, early release. It’s been a while since anyone touched me,” he babbles in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink. “But I don’t wanna hear shit about your gorgeous hands ever again, you hear me, babygirl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering.

He looks like that one word has set his entire universe back in order again. You honestly don’t care at how fast Joel came. You love how much it shows he wants you. And his heady taste is making you weak. You could taste him for days and days and never get tired, you’re sure.

“Can still get you off though, don’t worry. Shoulda let you cum first, but I couldn’t help it with the things you do to me. Goddamn. Can Daddy eat your pussy, baby?”

You grin, but then your face falls.

“Didn’t shave,” you admit, feeling dirty.

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I care about that? Only little boys give a shit about things like that. Not men.”

You shiver.

“Really?”

“Of course I don’t care. Didn’t ya hear what I just said? C’mon now. You can lie down on the couch.”

You follow instructions, pulling your dress over your head to reveal white lace panties and no bra.

You move to take the panties off, but Joel stops you, staring at the lines and curves of your body.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls, taking you in.

You think you see his cock twitch ever so slightly. He palms his softening length instinctively.

“Beautiful,” he snarls, pushing you back on the sofa.

You happily fall backward.

He lies on top of you, his white button-down shirt pressing against your naked body tantalizingly.

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

“Daddy’s mouth,” he commands against you.

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it!

He kisses down your neck expertly and you begin to shiver and whine, your pussy aching with need and neglect.

He stops at your breasts, sucking and biting each one.

“Daddy’s tits,” he declares, snaking a finger over the lace panties that protect your clit. “Of course,” you respond, moaning softly, grinding needily against him.

He continues lower, licking down your breasts and over your tummy which he plants with kisses that tickle and then one hard bite on your hip that leaves behind teeth marks.

“Daddy’s body,” he impresses upon you.

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

“No more of that little shithead, Max,” he snarls, an inch above your clit.

“No more Max,” you repeat as he presses kisses down your pussy, still covered by soaked white lace panties.

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

He finally removes your panties and begins to eat and suck your clit and pussy so hard and enthusiastically, swirling his tongue around your bundles of nerves that you grow exponentially closer by the second.

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

It doesn’t take long. The second his calloused hand is pressing a finger and then two inside of you it’s over. You were so needy for him that you could have even cum from just his mouth alone, but his hands are what send you over the edge. And something different happens as orgasm crashes down upon you. The butterflies all join together and transform into something bigger and softer, caressing your insides, cooing. It feels like a breathing white dove is spreading its wings inside you, the tips of its feathers brushing against your rib cage. And you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Pleasure engulfs you in currents, facilitated by the gentle flapping from deep

inside your body.

“ Joel,” you moan. “Oh my God. Daddy, pleaseee–”

“Please what, baby? Make my princess cum again? I would eat that pretty little clit and

pussy every day for the rest of my life if I could, fuck. God, so perfect and you’re so fuckin’ tight. Look how fucking hard you make me, angel.”

He takes one of your hands and places it on his half-hardening cock. Not going to lie, you are partially shocked at his recovery, but another part of you seems to know that if there was anyone in the universe that could do that to him it had to be you.

“Never got hard again from anyone I’ve ever fucked before…” he trails off dreamily like he can read your thoughts. “You’re so gorgeous, babygirl.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” you tell him lazily, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth as you pull him closer to you.

The heat from his body keeps you so warm and tender and for a moment you lie on the couch, Joel’s still-clothed body pressed to yours.

“Can you fuck me, Joel?” you ask, squirming against him needily.

“You can’t say that shit to me, baby,” Joel groans, his cock getting harder. “Not quite ready yet.”

“Lemme help you out,” you offer, pouting.

You reach down and stroke his half-hard length and then bend over and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock.

Joel swears, staring down at you with so much adoration it pours off his face. No man has ever looked at you like that before. You’re certain. Perhaps no man ever will again? Not like that.

“Shit, baby,” Joel babbles stupidly, his eyes threatening to swallow you up in that beautiful shade of umber. “Never gonna forget this moment,” he grunts as you begin to suck his cock properly, feeling it slowly get hard enough to throb between your lips with each thrust of your head and gluck of your throat.

You stare up at him, your eyes wide and wanting and Joel lets out a soft, vulnerable moan as you begin to really suck him and take him down the walls of your throat.

“ Unh , babygirl, fuck,” he whines and you have never quite heard Joel so desperate before. “Gotta pull out or I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck.”

It sounds just like it did the night you accidentally spied on him jerking off.

“You’ve been thinking about me a lot, huh, Daddy?” you ask, releasing Joel from your mouth like he wanted, though his hips buck forward ever so slightly with desire, the tip of his cock just barely scraping against your mouth. He grunts.

“Maybe so,” he replies, looking a little guilty. “Don’t know how not to these days.”

“Heard you on the couch last night,” you whine yourself. “Had to touch myself ‘cuz of it, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Joel reaches out a hand to cup your crotch and rub against your slick pussy.

“That’s so fuckin’ naughty, baby,” he groans. “Look how wet that made you. All for me.”

You steal a glance at his cock and find that the tip is weeping too. And he is so fucking big compared to the size of your hand. Fuck!

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” you whisper.

“All about you, baby,” Joel nods in agreement, his hips twitching ever so slightly. “‘Bout touching you just like this.”

He slinks two big fingers inside you and you moan deliciously, the feathery wings of the newly-formed dove fluttering against your insides.

“Gotta stretch you a bit more,” he grunts into your throat, pushing in a third finger. “Daddy’s so big and you’re so tight, angel. Don’t wanna hurt ya. Not too bad at least. Not yet…That’s it, pretty girl, fuck,” he grins when you slide back on his thumb in pleasure which had traveled to the rim of your asshole “Good girl, so good for Daddy. So naughty too. Don’t think Daddy won’t punish you.”

“Want you to hurt me, Daddy,” you moan. “When you fuck me. Please fuck me hard. I want all of you – pain and pleasure. One hundred percent Joel. Joel, please, I need–”

And Joel does stop for a moment.

“Never hurt you in a way you didn’t beg for,” he tells you seriously. “You know that right, baby?”

You stop your rutting against him and look into his eyes.

“Are you kidding? You would protect me with your dying breath. I know that, Joel. Never been afraid of you since I’ve really known you. Not once. I mean: fuck; you gave up your whole life for me. To keep me safe, for fuckssake. In every word you say and don’t say to me I can feel how much you love me.”

“I do love you so much, babygirl,” he whispers, nuzzling your forehead. “If I had to, I’d do all of it all over again if it meant I’d get you. I’ve made mistakes, big ones, but protecting you, loving you was never one of them.”

Warm tears trail down your cheeks, but Joel licks and kisses them away.

“Wanna feel me inside you?” he asks. “Don’t wanna go too fast, but I need you, baby. Needed you for so long…Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for Daddy, huh? Gonna fit me just like a glove, I just know it — if you wanna…”

“Yes, please, fuck me, Daddy! Please, Joel Wanna feel you—ah!” you moan as Joel shoves his entire length into your pussy in one hard thrust eagerly. “Oh my God, please fuck me harder!” you moan, reeling from the deep blend of pain and pleasure of him sinking inside you, clenching down around the thickness of him. “Joel, please!”

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

You shiver. The way he says that makes your heart beat wildly in your ears.

“Because babygirl, I would treat you like porcelain if you want it so. I will never hurt you, my angel, my gift from god, my goddamn sweetest heart please know I will break my fucking hands before they would hurt you, before I would ever hurt you in a way that you didn’t want, no matter how much it hurt me. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Joel. But you want it too,” you smirk. “You aren’t innocent in this, are you?”

“Fuck, of course i’m not innocent. I want you, babygirl. In every way there is to want another. Want every inch of you, inside and out. Wanna mark you up so the world knows you’re mine, honey. Want everyone to smell me on you and know I marked you, moved in you, darlin’, please, see, I’m no fucking Hemingway, I didn’t go to college, I’m not like you with words, but I need you to understand that I mean this with my whole chest and heart. Really, I’m not a big talker, never was, babygirl, but I need you to understand I—”

“I do, you dumbass fucking fool!” you shout, giggling at his desperation. “I’d understand you even if you were speaking another language. You’ve made your intentions loud and clear. I don’t want a Hemingway, I want Joel Miller!”

You pull him in for a kiss and he thrusts in you again a second time and you end up moaning clumsily in his mouth, but you can feel him smiling , smiling like some dumb idiot against you and maybe you called him the correct insult because he is a dumbass fucking fool for you. And it turns out you must be one as well because you are smiling like an idiot for him too.

“ Joel,” you moan as he begins to move inside you, hitting deep places that Max or any of your previous exes never went. Pleasure is tracing itself along the line of your stomach. “Oh my god, I love you so much,” you babble and you’ve never meant that more than you do now.

You can feel Joel coming apart above you, plowing into you, sighing deeply. His grunts and moans and thrusts spur on the intense pleasure.

“More!” you moan. “Oh my god. Harder, please, I need–”

Joel plants rough bites on your neck and kisses too like he’s trying to consume every inch of you.

He places a large hand around your throat questioningly and you nod.

“Beg for it,” he commands in his deep, sexy voice — the voice that’s been in every wet dream you’ve ever had. You think you might just pass out from the sound alone.

“Choke me, Daddy,” you whine as pathetically as you possibly can, batting your eyes. “Oh, please, I could cum from just this, but I want more. More of you. All of you.”

“As you fuckin’ wish, baby,” he snickers in amusement. “Bet no little boy ever fucked you like this, huh?” he growls, continuing his rough pace, slamming against your walls, his eyes growing wild.

“They don’t compare to you, Joel. It’s always been you. In every orgasm. Fuck, never felt like this! Shit! Shit!”

Joel reaches out his large scarred hand and applies gentle delicious pressure to your throat. You know even something like this can be dangerous, but you crave that feral look of violence in his eyes and the power that comes with it. You want him to own you completely – every inch of you. You want him to mark you just like he said he wanted to because he is yours and you are his and has it ever really been any other way? You can’t remember properly from the pleasure rushing through you, the white dove inside you spreading and fluttering its wings, cooing softly. You think it’s only ever been what you feel now.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” you scream, orgasm building in you.

“I know, babygirl. I know,” he coos himself into your mouth.

He pulls you closer, presses his nose to yours, his lips to yours, biting and kissing like a starving man possessed. He looks into your eyes and it’s there! That look of pure predator closing in on its prey, that look of ownership but also the most intense love you think you’ve ever witnessed. You would recognize that look anywhere. Your starved brain cries out for oxygen beneath his iron grip.

“Gonna cum again, angel,” Joel growls. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’re never gonna forget who you belong to. Whose pretty pussy this is.”

He is pounding so hard against your cervix and his dick is so big inside you and the pressure of his hand squeezing around you is so overwhelming and the scent of him could make you faint straight then and there, but you let go and feel yourself cumming in enormous waves as you squeeze down around Joel’s prick, the pleasure more intense than any single bodily experience you’ve had.

“ Daddy ,” you whine breathlessly, tears trickling out of your eyes. “Oh my god!”

“You’re mine, babygirl, always have been–FUCK!” he shouts into your throat, collapsing on top of you.

And then you feel him starting to empty himself inside you, painting your sensitive insides with trustful after trustful of hot cum. You’ve never felt so helplessly full and sticky in your life, the brilliant pleasure billowing through every inch of you. You want to feel like this every day, stuffed full of Joel’s cock, so close to him you can feel his heartbeat against yours, the one true place you belong.

“So beautiful, babygirl,” he whispers in an exhausted type of awe.

When your words come back you reply,

“Shut up, you’re the hot one,” through a snicker.

You look down at your body, covered in purple bite marks and bruises forming like galaxies across your body.

Joel snorts. Then he sits up on the couch and you lean your cheek against him. You lean up to kiss his cheek and he blushes ever so slightly.

“I said a lot of stuff, Y/N, but I want you to know that I meant all of it,”

“Yeah, you probably said more in the last hour than you’ve ever uttered in your entire life,” you tease, sitting up.

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

“I am and was too,” you nod. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me — that we did this. I know that our…origin story is weird and unconventional and some might argue straight up wrong, but I need you, Joel. I don’t care about that or think I could go back to pretending to be what we were.”

“You think I’d want you to act like that?” he asks incredulously. “You think I want this to just be a one-time thing?”

“Of course not,” you smirk. “But as close as we are I can’t actually read your mind. I mean…how are we going to be together realistically?”

“I’m not sure,” Joel admits, frowning a little. “For now it has to be a secret unless you want your mother or brother in jail for murdering me this time around. But someday, I dunno. It’s dumb…”

“What?”

“I just have these thoughts sometimes about you ‘n me. I…” Joel’s cheeks turn a bit pink. “Had a lot of time to think in prison, you know? And I’d Imagine us living on a ranch somewhere quiet out in the country with a flock of sheep. I could work at the tractor and auto-body repair shop that’d be out there, you know, in this dream of mine, and you could be a counselor at a local school if that’s what ya wanted. I don’t know, l know it sounds silly, but nobody would know or bother us there. But I want you to finish school and have the best life possible, babygirl. I’d wait a thousand years for you, but if you didn’t want me anymore the way we are now, I’d respect that. And if you’d allow it, I’d still be there for you just in a platonic sense — or just there for you however you want because I can’t imagine my life with you in it. I’d do whatever it takes, brokenhearted or not. I just can’t be separated from you like that again. A day longer in prison and I could’ve keeled over and died. And it’s crazy how much I mean that.”

“I don’t ever want to be separated from you again, Joel,” you agree. “I know the original plan was for you to find work and get an apartment of your own and I would love for that to still happen, but with you being intimate with me in every way – even if it has to be a secret. I don’t pretend to know what the future holds, but I need you in mine. I’ve never needed something more than I need that. Understand?”

Joel pulls you into a hug and leans his chin on the top of your head. He kisses it then your forehead. You lean up and plant a kiss on his throat and then his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t mean to get too ahead of ourselves now. We can take things a day at a time,” he mumbles into your skin.

You yawn contentedly, the tiredness clawing at your eyes, so unbelievably spent.

“I like hearing about your dreams and I’d go anywhere with you, Joel. But I am kinda dead from how good you just fucked me. Take me to bed?” You ask exhaustedly into his chest.

“Of course, babygirl,” he smirks down at you.

***

You don’t let go of Joel all night long, burrowed up against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. And he doesn’t let go of you either. After the most intimate night of cuddles and snuggling you’ve ever experienced as well as the deepest and most restful sleep you’ve had in ages, you wake up to Joel gone from the bed. You frown, having wanted more than anything to wake up in his strong arms. Fear grips your insides as you wonder if he finally realized last night was a mistake and that you were never meant to be together in the first place (what you fear more than anything). A stupid vulnerable tear comes to your eye, but then you cock your head and hear music playing. Guitar music.

You think of your apartment as shitty, but truthfully you care deeply about your little private space and one of the things you do actually love the most about it is the tiny balcony that overlooks a measly courtyard and part of the city. That’s where you find Joel in the deck chair holding his guitar, strumming it lazily.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says, fingerpicking a melody that scratches at the back of your mind with familiarity.

“Morning, handsome,” you tell him softly, plopping your smaller hand down on his shoulder.

The city hasn’t woken up yet, the soft glow of morning shining beams of light onto you and Joel, filling you with warmth. You sit down in the deck chair next to him, bathing in the sunlight.

“Whatcha playing?” you ask curiously, crouching to sit up on your knees.

“You know the song ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen?” Joel asks in that beautifully deep voice of his.

He isn’t even singing yet but you could listen to him forever.

“‘Course,” you nod. “It’s a classic. You used to play it for me once in a blue moon.”

“Know what the word ‘Hallelujah’ actually means?” he asks.

You think about it for a second.

“It’s about praising god and all that, right? Why d’you ask?”

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking.

“Babygirl,” he begins and you can tell he’s about to say something serious. “You know I’m not too good with words, but I need you to know this: I’ve never had much to thank god for in my life, except for Sarah, you know? But then He took her away…”

You place your hand on Joel’s and he looks at you sadly, but appreciatively. He flips it over and holds it in his giant paw of his own marked-up hand.

“And I was so fucking angry. Nothing left in me. The only good part of me gone. I was a broken man. And I hated Him. But then He, despite the shit I’ve done…He gave me you . And I know our road hasn’t been easy or fair, and the pain you’ve felt and I have felt but…I guess what I’m trying to say is you are the reason I believe that any type of…goodness— of holiness— can exist in this universe. And I’m not a religious man, I don’t believe in most of that dogmatic type of shit, and I don’t think you do either, but I do think someone or something is up there and I wanna thank them for you. Does that make sense? Do you wanna hear what I mean? I just feel so damn grateful.”

A tear you hadn’t noticed was there rolls down your cheek.

“Of course it does and of course I do,” you tell him.

You think perhaps this is the closest thing he can do to bearing his soul to you.

And then he leans over and kisses the tear away and begins to fingerpick the familiar melody.

♪ “I heard there was a secret chord…”♫

You listen to his deep weathered voice as the sun grows higher in the morning sky, casting both light and shadow over Joel’s wrinkled, handsome face. The light trails over you too. You feel the dove inside you cooing contentedly, dusting its wings gently against the edges of your insides.

♪There's a blaze of light in every word / It doesn't matter which you heard / The holy or the broken Hallelujah…”♫

When he finishes he places his large, scarred, calloused hand in yours and you hold it between your own scarred fingers.

“Thank you, Joel,” you tell him, meaning every word. “I think there’s hope for us, you know? I don’t believe in hippie-dippie type stuff, but something in this universe did bring us together. And I’ll be forever grateful for that too, ya know?”

Joel squeezes your smaller hand, his big fingers engulfing yours as the dove coos louder inside you.

“Babygirl, you know that I ain’t a good man, or a rich and educated one like maybe you thought you’d end up with, but I am less of a broken one because of you and I’m never letting you go. If we’re together, I think we have a chance.”

A/n:PLEASE COMMENT LIKE REBLOG IM BEGGING IM PLEADING IM CRYING DID THE SMUT LIVE UP TO YOUR DREAMS????

PART 1

PART 3 (coming soon)

Violent Heart Masterlist

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xxkiller-muffinxx · 5 months

Text

As long as you're here.

Floyd x reader (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Summary: You and Floyd met when Floyd was still in brozone, but when the band separated so did you. That is until you were both captured by the mediocre artists of Veneer and velvet. Not that you care much though, your fine and healthy and your with your favorite person again.

Words: 1380

Warnings: angst, semi-cliffhanger if I plan to do a part 2

A/N: this is so rushed you guys, it's genuinely painful, but also it has most of the elements I wanted to include so if y'all would please be so kind as to like this if you enjoyed it that'd make my little heart so happy. In other words: stay golden and enjoy. Lemme know if y'all want a part 2!

✦✧✦

You groaned at your hurt vocal chords after going to another concert just that week. You wondered if you'd have a larynx of steel by the end of the month. You didn't have backstage tickets so you wandered a little ways away until you were far enough to cool off in the cool night air.

What an incredible concert, I mean you could've had more of the sensitive troll but hey! It still rocked your world. You took a few deep breaths to get rid of that post-concert buzz. You jolted to life when you heard a twig snap.

You heard the faint curses of a troll followed by a sad sigh. Your gaze Met the back of his pink haired head, and your heart dropped. You covered your mouth before a fangirl scream could fall out. You took a deep, deep breath before rising and looking at him.

He seemed startled when you spoke. “Hey… you okay there?” you said with as little excitement you could muster. However it still wasn't enough to make him think you weren't a fan.

Once he calmed down he turned away from you. “Hi. Uh…if you want an autograph just say so.” He mumbled, just clear enough for you to make out. He sat on a log, and soon enough you joined him.

“Autograph?” You whispered in return, surprised he'd assume such a thing. Then you realized he proba got that a lot more than he did comfort. “No, no, I don’t want an autograph, I'm genuine. Are you okay?” You placed a gentle, sweet hand on his shoulder.

He looked at you and it seemed like there was a switch in his whole attitude. From melancholy to downright depressed. He wiped his eyes before any tears could fall. “Sorry you have to see me like this.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s natural.” You sat next to him, looking into his eyes. “Talk to me, Floyd.”

Floyd’s eyes widened slightly at the use of his name and he seemed lost for a second. Should he talk to you? Probably not, but this is the most comfort he’s gotten in ages, so he just breaks.

He tells you everything, and in just a few hours you’re already wrapped around each other's fingers. Floyd leaning into your shoulder and you holding him tight. Letting his pain be heard. He sniffled hard and lifted his face, tears covering his poor cheeks and puffy red eyes.

You giggled at the sight, something about this whole thing was surreal. “You okay now?” you ask with a smile on your lips and in your voice. Floyd doesn’t respond verbally. Instead he just nods. Still leaning his head into your shoulder.

At some point he had grabbed onto your hand, desperate never to let go. Now he’s gently playing with your fingers. Waiting for you to tell him to stop. Which you wouldn’t.

He looked up into your eyes quickly. “Thank you for staying with me.” He whispered. You nodded your head and stroked his hand with your thumb. Then it dawned on you.

“I uh, I’m so sorry this was pretty forward of me if I’m honest, I haven’t even introduced myself.” You stood up and offered him your hand. You gently declare your name, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at how forward you had been with him. Maybe it was because you already felt close to him. Considering he was your favorite band member.

Floyd stared into your eyes and cleared his throat. His gaze flickered away from yours and you hesitated. Ready to take back your hand at any moment. Just then his hand met yours. A chill ran down your spine as his cold contrasted with your warmth.

Your eyes stare at your connected hands, and then onto his face. His eyes were large with friendliness, but overshadowed by exhaustion and uncertainty. “It’s okay. I don’t mind at all.” He would say. You nodded slightly. Then squeezed his hand.

“I should…I should go-”

“Yeah…yeah that’s probably for the best. I gotta get home.”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll let you do that.” You said awkwardly before turning on your heel and skulking off elsewhere where you’re needed.

Floyd chuckled slightly as he watched you go away, then he heard his name being called. Despite his initial disappointment he decided maybe as long as you were there it wouldn’t be so bad.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Many years have passed since then.

You reminisce on an old photo of you and Floyd. It was directly after another concert, the last concert before he and his brothers disappeared off the face of the earth. You kept that photo, thinking one day you'd get to see Floyd again. However, considering your current situation it was unlikely.

Trapped, inside a purple diamond with nothing to hear except thoughts and teenage screaming laughter. You were tired of it, but not afraid. Velvet and Veneer were a duo of teenagers you hated with a burning passion. You were their test dummy, to see if they could steal the song of a troll. Which you wished was impossible.

Unfortunately, today would prove to be the effect of your situation.

Velvet’s nagging voice screams in your ears as she and her brother return for a spritz. The sound of another diamond being slammed into the table cause you to have a brain reboot. You looked up and saw Velvet more excited than ever.

She was singing multiple riffs over and over, it was annoying. which made you realize that she found another troll. One more musical than you. You immediately looked at the bottle beside you. It's color colliding with yours, making it incredibly difficult to see inside of it. You didn't dare speak until the cruel duo parted.

“Psst. Hey.” you whispered to the other bottle. Trying to see who it was. They didn't respond immediately so you kept prying. “Hey…fellow inmate. I come in peace.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood despite being devoid of much joy yourself. “Please? I could use some social interaction.”

Silence followed, as if you were alone all over again. Then you began thinking. No one is there, it's hopeless. You're alone and you're going to die alone. There's no need to pretend like one day you'll have a friend here because you never will. You need to just give up already-

Then, as if by chance, a quiet voice says your name. A familiar voice. A hand presses itself against the glass and the two of you make eye contact. “Is it really you?” he says, and then a pit drops in your stomach, but pure joy fills your skull.

You gasp and move closer to him. “Floyd? Yes! Yes, it's me!” you groan as you lean your cheek into the glass. “I'm so glad to see you, but what are you doing here!” You pulled your cheek away and crossed your arms. Your eyes gentle on his familiar exhaustion.

Floyd laughed nervously then frowned. He turned and leaned on the diamond casing and slid to the ground. You mimicked him and he quietly acknowledged this. “It all happened so fast that…I just don't want to talk about it.” He seemed deeply saddened, like his whole world was crumbling before him. It really made you stop and think.

“I get that. I got a little too curious and wound up here myself. Sucks huh?”

“How can you get too curious and get locked up for it?”

“I got curious about this place and I didn't realize the song would be sucked out of me for it! Give me a break!”

That made Floyd laugh, but then he shook his head. “We have to get out of here.” Floyd said, his arms wrapping around his knees.

“Good luck with that.” you huffed. “I've been here for ages and there's no exit in sight,” you admit, a frown on your lips. You tossed your head back into the purple shield and sighed softly. “At least I have you to spend eternity with.”

Floyd looked at you. “I bet it won't be eternity, but as long as we're together, I'm okay. We're okay.” he said as he relaxed into the glass. You nodded, sighing up into your enclosure.

“Yeah, we're okay. Together.”

#trolls x reader #trolls floyd #trolls franchise #trolls fanfiction #trolls band together #trolls fanfic #trolls fandom #trolls #floyd x reader #trolls floyd x reader #trolls 3 #fanfiction #dreamworks trolls #dreamworks animation #dreamworks fanfiction

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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year

Text

You ARE The Father! Pt.2 (Obey Me!)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

->Click here for [Part 1: Demon Bros]

After getting back to the human world you realized you were pregnant. You decided to keep it a secret your whole pregnancy. After having the baby/babies for a few weeks, you finally decide to tell your baby daddy.

»Characters: Dateables

»Tags: Unplanned Pregnancy, Female Reader, Fluff and Angst, Certified Simeon Simp, Just a Smidge of Humor, Half-story Half-bulleted style

»Notes: I really hope you guys like this one, it felt so good to finally write part 2. 🥺♡

Diavolo:

Separating from him to go back home after the program was difficult but you decided it was for the best at the time, for him and the realm. It was heartbreaking and you might've regreted it a little. Anyway when you realized you were pregnant with his child, you were nervous to tell Diavolo about it. He already had so much on his plate everyday. You didn't want to bother him with appointments and other things. He had a whole realm to take care of after all. But you also knew you couldn't keep the secret forever (especially because what if your baby needed special demon care?) You finally call him one day weeks after birth.

"What exactly... are you saying...? I'm a father...? And you kept this from me!? I'm on the way!"

Understandably upset with your decision to keep it a secret from him but ecstatic you gave him a child

A family...his own little family...oh his heart ♡

Still felt guilty, did you not know how much you mean to him!? How broken he was and how much he loved you!? He would've taken care of your every need and been there the second you told him!

He arrived only minutes after the call and alone (He dipped so quick without telling Barb, oops!)

His son was so tiny in his arms! The baby shifted into demon form!

Teared up because he resembled him so much, same horns and wings!

Kissed and cuddled the heck out of you two

"You two will always come first. You're both my everything. Don't ever doubt that. And...we handle everything together, okay?"

He proposed with the ring he never got to give you 🤧

He moved you guys into the castle the same day and Barb lost his shit but in a good way

He noticed his son was a happy giggly demon but with a biting problem, especially when upset

Barbatos:

You wondered if Barbatos knew but ultimately decided he didn't. After all, he would have said something by now. You felt horrible for keeping the secret but you knew he had a duty of serving Diavolo; which helped run the Devildom. Barbatos would have helped you, you knew in your heart he would. You just didn't want to worry him while on the journey is all. Finally when everything was settled, you give him the call.

"Understood. I will visit shortly."

You didn't see the way his eyes widened at the news but he believed you and was well on his way to you after the call

He felt quite guilty and upset that you did something so grand, all alone

Nevertheless he still loved you and was excited yet nervous to meet his baby

The first thing he did when he saw you was kiss your forehead before holding his son

The baby shifted and he gasped at the miniature him, he was absolutely in love and even shifted into demon form himself

"The two of you mean the entire world to me. I feel our future is very bright. I vow to always love and protect you both."

He had called Dia and Luci to explain his absence

Stayed a few days to bond with you two (he grabbed a Go-Bag before leaving, butlers must always be prepared!)

Later moved you two into the castle to a very excited uncle Dia

He noticed his son was particular about his milk

Simeon:

You really struggled with the decision of letting him know. You were scared of the consequences he would face. You decided to keep it a secret as much as possible but one day he requested a video call when regular calls weren't enough anymore. You looked very much the same and everything was going great and that's when his daughter started crying in the background. Simeons' heard the cries before in past calls and to his knowledge you babysat frequently. He understood you had to go check. You didn't realize he could see the baby when you picked her up, you thought your back kept her hidden from view. He immediately knew. There was no doubt that was his baby girl. He questioned you about her and you tried to deny it but ended up confessing. You couldn't lie to him anymore.

"I'll see you two soon."

He was highly upset but thought about it more and knew why you did it

He didn't mean to put you in that position and ended up being more upset in himself

He loved you so much and hoped he could make it up to you

He hoped you could forgive him for not coming sooner but he had something to do first before seeing you two

He found Luke and chatted with him normally; he told him what a great angel he was and offered a bit of wisdom

He hugged the young angel for the last time

"Luke...I'm sorry and I hope you forgive me."

He knew that left Luke confused after such a normal conversation but Simeon couldn't bear to explain everything

After telling Michael what happened and being banished from the celestial realm, he finally made his way to you

Yes he was hurting from the loss but there was no doubt in his mind and he had no regrets overall

When he arrived and held his daughter, she glowed and he teared up

"You're an angel alright, a beautiful one."

You cried for him and he reassured you that everything will be fine, he was excited for his new family and he had no regrets

"I would do it all over again, and again, and again.♡"

He noticed his daughter loves falling asleep to his stories

Solomon:

You didn't keep it a secret from him actually. There wasn't really a reason to nor would you be able to hide it from him in the human realm.

"Me? A father?"

Was shocked for a few days, he never thought he'd see the day that would happen

He was happy for the two of you of course but it all seemed surreal

Was supportive throughout the pregnancy and tried to find ways to make it easier for you

He tried cooking more and you begged him not to

He nearly fainted at the news of twin girls

On the due date; all the books he read didn't seem like enough preparation

He teared up when you crushed his hand during labor

Oh he was in love when he heard the cries and even more when he saw they looked just like him

"You girls are going to run this world!" "Solomon."

"Right. WE'RE going to run this world."

Published a book called Dad Jokes Through the Centuries

Solomon: Family Man Extraordinaire ™️

He noticed his daughters seemed drawn towards his magical objects than their own toys

Also:

⬦You might also like: MC Feeling Insecure

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me fic #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

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incognit0slut · 10 months

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (11)

She ever thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Her involvement in the case becomes more crucial than she lets on. wc: 2.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: I know this part is long overdue, I've been very busy lately and I can't seem to write anything good for me to post. But do not fret, I am back and better than ever before (lol) Also, thank you for patiently waiting for this update🤍

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"I WOULD HAVE STRANGLED HIM IF I WERE YOU."

Y/n frowned as she watched the slight furrow on her friend's brow, adding an element of emphasis to her words.

A moment of silence passed between them before Sandy rolled her eyes, leaning against the plush couch in the living room with a tall glass in her hand. "I'm just saying," she explained. "He was being a total jerk."

She let out a sigh. A slight confusion weaved itself whenever she contemplated him. She thought that voicing out her emotions on what occurred these past few days could ease her, yet thinking of him was only making her question her sanity. It was as if her mind was attempting to decipher a language it didn't fully comprehend, leaving her caught between curiosity and apprehension.

She honestly didn't know what to think anymore. One minute she felt like she was head over heels for the guy, and the next minute strangling him didn't seem like a bad idea after all.

She could even list all of the things about him that riled her up, yet somehow the thought of having her hands wrapped around his throat reminded her of something entirely different, which was why she found herself saying, "You know, he would actually enjoy that."

Sandy raised her brows. "What? Getting choked to death?"

She scoffed. "No, not to that extent. But like, in another context." She then narrowed her eyes. "If you know what I mean."

The subtle innuendo didn't go unnoticed as Sandy's eyes widened in surprise. "No way."

"Way."

"Damn," her friend mused before taking a sip of her drink. "Smart and kinky. If only he wasn't such an ass to you."

Smart and kinky weren't exactly words she considered using in one sentence, but the sound of them put together surprisingly sounded enticing. It sounded enticing enough that her mind was starting to play tricks on her. It sounded good enough that she found herself starting to miss him, even when logic dictates that she shouldn't.

And now it sounded compelling enough that she couldn't help but weigh in the pros and cons when it came to the man, putting the cons on his ability to switch attitude in a span of seconds into a completely different person—not to mention his tendency to assume biased reasonings based on poor judgment.

On the other hand, the pros were very hard to ignore. There was a certain charm in his awkward demeanor, especially in his shy and uncertain smile every time it was directed her way. Then there was also his intelligent mind she was definitely drawn to.

But above all that, he was, without a doubt, a certified freak in the sheets.

And that was on top of her list.

A subtle sigh escaped her lips, revealing a hint of her internal struggle. "I mean, he did have a good point, don't you think?"

"Y/n," Sandy warned disapprovingly.

"What? He was only doing his job..." She glanced at her. "...right?"

"This is the alcohol talking," Sandy dismissed before standing up. "You would never forgive a man this easy if you were sober."

"It's Margarita Night, what's the point of being sober?" She proved her point by finishing the last drop of liquor from her glass, the vibrant notes of freshly squeezed lime and tequila playing across her taste buds.

Sandy simply scoffed as she took her glass and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking together following behind as she started making them a refill.

Y/n leaned back and closed her eyes, her body poised for a moment of relaxation. But just as the first tendrils of calm began to envelop her, a sharp interruption pierced through the air—the sound of the doorbell ringing.

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she rose from the couch. "Our pizza is here!"

Light steps carried her to the door as her stomach grumbled in anticipation, the scent of cheesy goodness already wafting through her imagination. She slowly wrapped her hand around the doorknob and swung the door open, but instead of being greeted by the delivery guy clad in his familiar uniform, the last person she thought would be on the other side of her door stood right in front of her.

Her eyes widened, capturing the shock that rendered her momentarily speechless. Time seemed to slow as her heart raced with caution while she attempted to process on what was happening.

What were the chances of seeing him again right at the moment when she had her friend coming over just so she could rant about the guy?

It was as if the universe was playing a trick on her, presenting a twist she could never have anticipated. As the seconds ticked by, she then finally found her voice, a mix of caution and confusion lacing her words as she muttered, "You're not the delivery guy."

"I'm not," Spencer—god, she still couldn’t believe he was here—responded, his eyes scanning along her features. "Sorry to disappoint you."

There was a fleeting moment where their gaze met, an unspoken wariness passing between them. The memory of their last meeting surfaced with a wave of tension that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She watched as his expression shifted, the space between them seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the weight of their unspoken words.

Then a throat being cleared cut through the silence, a soft disruption that broke the spell of their locked eyes. Startled, her gaze broke away from his, shifting to the source of the interruption. And there, standing beside him was another figure—a woman she hadn't noticed until that very moment.

Recognition flashed in her eyes as she glanced at the familiar face, recalling the blonde-haired lady as one of the agents she met at the bureau the other day. Agent... Jareau, was it?

Yes, that was definitely her name. She was one of the few agents who actually treated her without judgment, checking in on her from time to time, which was why she focused her attention on her instead.

"Agent Jareau, what brings you here?"

"Sorry to barge in this late," she replied with an apologetic smile. "But we'd like to have a few words with you."

"It's fine." Y/n stepped aside and pulled the door wider. "Do you want to come in?"

"No, it's alright, we'll be quick—"

"Yes."

Her gaze turned back to the other man and narrowed her eyes.

"I think it’s better to have this conversation inside."

She studied him for a moment before nodding, letting the two agents step inside her home. There was a clatter coming from the kitchen as she closed the door before walking down the hallway, expecting them to follow behind. "We can talk in the living room but—"

"We're putting you on protection."

She abruptly turned on her heels. "What?"

Agent Jareau sent a disapproving look towards Spencer as if trying to say this was not how they usually handle things in this situation. The woman turned back to her and gave her a reassuring smile before explaining, "We've been investigating the situation thoroughly, and it appears that the Unsub we're dealing with might have developed an unhealthy obsession with you."

Her heart slowly raced, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through her veins as the words finally sink in. "Obsession?” Her brows furrowed deeper. “What do you mean?"

"As you may know, all of the victims were related to you in one way or another, where you received some kind of mistreatment by them all. We believe the Unsub might be doing this out of his way to protect you."

She felt a knot tightening in her stomach, a growing sense of vulnerability she had never experienced before. "P-Protect me? But why?"

Agent Jareau's expression softened as she continued, "We're still working to understand the motives behind their actions. But given the escalating behavior and the potential danger it poses, we've decided it's best to put you under protection."

Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear. "Protection? Like... witness protection?"

Spencer, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "Something similar. We're proposing a protective measure—having an officer discreetly follow you during your daily routine."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You want me to be followed?"

Agent Jareau interjected, "It's for your own safety. We believe that having an officer close by could deter any potential threat and give us a better chance of identifying the Unsub."

Her mind raced as she considered the implications. "But how will I know? Will the officer be obvious?"

"Officer Anderson is currently outside in a separate car. He's trained to blend in while keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings."

"I..." she trailed off, then shook her head. "Will he be there all the time?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, but we'll do our best to be inconspicuous. You won't even know he's there most of the time."

The idea of having an undercover officer tailing her sent a mixture of emotions coursing through her veins. Safety, yes, but also an unsettling feeling of being under constant scrutiny.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes, it is."

Her thoughts suddenly spun like a whirlwind, torn between disbelief and grim realization. She had always taken her daily routines for granted, the simple act of going to work or meeting friends devoid of apprehension. Now, each step she took seemed laden with an invisible weight, as if unseen eyes were tracking her every movement.

And to top it all, was she actually the sole reason behind these murders? She wasn't exactly the one acting out these gruesome crimes, yet it might as well happened because of her. Who could harbor such an unhealthy fixation on her? What had she done to attract this unwanted attention?

The unanswered mysteries gnawed at her.

Agent Jareau reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she read the familiar look in her eyes, it was the same look whenever a witness was starting to blame themselves. "This isn't your fault, we're here to support you through this. Your safety is our priority.”

With a deep breath, she nodded, silently accepting the protection they offered. The blonde-haired woman then gestured for her to open the door, which she did, and pointed towards a car parked a few blocks away with its window down, revealing a normal-looking guy sitting behind the wheel.

"That's Officer Anderson, he'll be trailing behind you at a safe distance. You won't even notice he's there."

The officer caught them staring and lifted his hand, a gesture of his greeting. Y/n waved back at him. "Great, I've always wanted a personal bodyguard."

Unfortunately, none of the two agents standing beside her caught the sarcasm in her voice. Agent Jareau turned back to her. "You have our number, right? You can call us anytime if you need assistance."

She did have her number, she also had Agent Prentiss' number who constantly assured her to call if she ever found anything new that could help with the investigation. But surprisingly, out of all the agents she met, the one agent she didn't have their number was the one she had been sleeping with all along.

Not that she was ever going to call him. She simply nodded out of politeness, and as she did, she could feel watchful eyes staring at her intently. Agent Jareau's keen eyes also caught the subtle interaction unfolding before her. She caught the way Spencer's gaze fixed with unwavering intensity on Y/n, who seemed determinedly oblivious to the weight of his stare, or rather, she was purposefully attempting to ignore his scrutiny.

Sensing the tension in the air, she took a step back, offering a fleeting glance to Spencer before turning to leave. "I'll wait in the car."

Her footsteps softly echoed in the night as she disappeared, and Y/n wasn't sure whether being left with him was a good idea.

She could feel the subtle shifts of his movements, the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, as they stood just inches apart. She could also feel the warmth radiating from his body, a tantalizing contrast to the cool breeze that brushed against her skin.

"You okay?"

The air felt charged with tension as he spoke, his voice carrying a mix of nervousness and sincerity.

"It's safe to say I'm far from being okay," she decided to say.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers curling and then relaxing by his sides. His lips parted slightly as if he were on the cusp of forming the words he had carried within him for so long. His gaze, intense yet searching, traced the contours of her face as if trying to find the right entry point into a conversation that had been left untouched.

And then he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry."

She finally dragged her gaze on him with an expression that betrayed little emotion. "Are you sorry because a serial killer out there has an unhealthy obsession with me or are you sorry about your misconception of me?"

"Both." He seemed to search her eyes for a reaction, his uncertainty palpable. "But you must understand I was doing my job, it was never my intention to hurt you."

"But you did hurt me," she answered, her gaze dropping momentarily before returning to meet his. "Whether it was intentional or not."

He seemed to struggle for words, a mix of emotions playing across his features "I know. I'm sorry."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression remaining impassive. After hearing the new update on the case and how much she was actually involved, she wasn’t in the mood to be having a serious conversation.

"It's getting late,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “You should probably leave."

Spencer let out a sigh. "Listen, I—"

"It’s getting late,” she repeated, her voice sounding severe. “We can have this conversation another time.”

His shoulders slumped, the weight of his remorse heavy on his chest. He had hoped for a reaction, a sign that his apology had made a difference. Instead, her indifference left him feeling adrift, as if it was a barrier that he couldn't breach, a shield that rendered his efforts to make amends ineffective.

There was nothing else he could do as she turned to face him fully again, her eyes meeting his with a calm finality.

"Good night, Dr. Reid."

He reluctantly took a step back.

"Good night," he murmured.

Then with a nod, he slowly turned away, leaving her standing there all alone. Her gaze remained fixed on his receding figure, his form gradually blending into the night.

Doubt suddenly gnawed at the edges of her consciousness—Had she made the right choice? Was her choice to distance herself a shield to guard against potential heartache, or was it a missed opportunity to rebuild what had been lost?

She shook her head and went back inside, closing the door behind her before leaning against it. It wasn't until she heard footsteps emerging from the kitchen that she realized Sandy was still here.

"What was that all about?"

Y/n glanced at her friend. The two freshly filled glasses in her hands were calling out to her and drowning herself in heaps amount of alcohol seemed like a good idea, even when she was probably going to regret it tomorrow morning. But she needed to feel numb by all of these emotions.

She watched as Sandy offered her a glass, waiting for her reply. There were a lot of things she could answer with, but the only matter that stood out to her was the new revelation on her involvement on the case. So she took the glass from her and pressed her lips around the rim as her mind drifted toward the disguised officer sitting right outside her house.

There was no other way than to explain it as it was.

"I think I might be in danger."

>> NEXT PART

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