#fuck if i think too long about how this is the. second last chapter we get. before we officially end the novel with the two of them sharing

[lloydfrontera]

In my opinion, the reason the reunion scene was skipped was because the author couldn’t figure out a way to write it non-romantically and gave up after a while

honestly. i kinda agree with you nonnie.

it just. the set up to the scene is sooooo romantic. you have lloyd being absolutely devastated at the thought he's not going to see any of his loved ones ever again and that he's been dropped back into his terrible life, to the place he admitted he'd rather die than go back to,,, and then someone knocks at the door and when he opens it this is the sight that greets him:

his best friend, the person he's closest to, the one he's spent years with, the one he promised a peaceful life at his side, the one he wanted to grow old with, the one he sacrificed everything for, the one he effectively gave his life to save, the one he thought he'd never see again, standing at his door, having crossed literal dimensional barriers to get to him, a soft and teary smile on his face as he tells him "i missed you"

like. c'mon.

i'm all for platonic interpretations, i'm aroace, i love me a good best friendship as much as the next guy, but,,,, isn't this,,, like,,, really fucking romantic??? extremely so??? am i??? reading too much into it?? because it feels really, really romantic to me.

and like you say. where do you go from there. what response could lloyd give that doesn't involve throwing himself at javier and clinging to him with all of his strength. what conversation could these two have that doesn't involve them seeing how truly devoted they are to each other. what resolution does their arc together have that isn't them spending the rest of their lives together, at each other's side, like they so dearly wanted to.

but. alas. that wasn't the story bk moon wanted to tell. and that's very much his right. i just think that if he didn't want me to assume there's no in-character and narratively satisfying version of that conversation that doesn't end with them kissing he should've at least tried to give us something. and not completely skipped it lol

but that's just my opinion too :]

#hey i got an ask #Anonymous #tged #the greatest estate developer #tged spoilers #lloyd frontera #javier asrahan #llojavi #ch 401 #and like. god. this really was his favorite scene to write uh. #i just. i don't get it. what was going through his head. what was he thinking. what was the point of all of This. #i just need ten minutes locked in a room with him. preferably with a translator but i am willing to compromise. just gimme ten minutes. #i can make him spill the soup i know this #fuck if i think too long about how this is the. second last chapter we get. before we officially end the novel with the two of them sharing #a relieved smile at the fact they can finally live their lives together without worries. i do go a little crazy. #this would probably be a hot take if there were enough opinions about tged for it to be considered spicy in the first place. but. i don't #love the extra chapters. the one with javier making a wish to a shooting star is acceptable tho it does create more questions than answers. #but the others are. meh. i would've much preferred if tged had ended in ch 401 with an open ending. maybe ch 402 if only because i did want #to see lloyd interact with arcos and marbella as suho. but there would be no last minute shoehorned wedding in my ideal ending. #i just!! i don't like forced romance!!!! i don't like compulsory amato/heteronormativity!!!!!! #i want my fictional relationships to have proper build up and chemistry and to be narratively satisfying!!!!!!! fuck!!!!!!! #i'm good. i'm okay. this is fine. we're all fine. #anyway. yeah

[wwilsonbarness]

hello? Mr. Pickle?

pairings:  bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky struggles with modern technology, especially autocorrect. 

warnings: none, pure fluff 

word count: 495

a/n: When I was writing i can’t do this anymore my autocorrect changed doll to dill and so this was born - also my first drabble? Huge thanks to @hopelessromantic423 for the title suggestion <33

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist 

From across the room you could hear your phone vibrating so you made a mental note to check it once you finish this chapter of your book. It buzzed again and you debated going over to it but you only had two pages left. Then it buzzed 3 more times, straight after each other. This was when you decided it must be important so you got up and started walking over. It buzzed another two times as you walked over and you started to panic, it could’ve been an emergency. When you saw the messages on your screen you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was Bucky who was messaging you. 

Buck

I’m just leaving. What do you want for dinner dill?  dill** dill** This stupid fucking phone. DILL** DILL DILL** Fuck sake I’m phoning you 

You only just finish reading the last message when your phone begins to ring and you try to compose your laughter enough to answer. 

“Hey Buck, or should I say Mr Pickle?” 

“Ha Ha.” He replies sarcastically, “I take it you seen my texts. Stupid phone never works.” 

“It’s just not used to your 40’s lingo babe.” You teased, you were always kidding with him about how much of an old man he was. Not in the way of his literal age but the way he lived, he hated using new technology, he hated social media, and you don’t even want to think back on the time you tried to make him watch a reality show. He tried liking all the modern parts of the world but he missed the old days where things were a lot simpler. He was just glad he had you to help him through it. 

“Yeah well it’s lucky I didn’t throw it out the car.” You hear him mumble something along the lines of “piece of crap” and it makes you giggle. “It’s not funny doll.” 

“It’s kinda funny.” 

“I hate you.” He jokes. 

“No you don’t.” You manage to reply through your laughter. 

“You’re right I don’t. So what do you want for dinner?”

You take a second to think, “I’m kinda craving cheeseburgers.” 

“I could do a cheeseburger, I’m near that burger place anyways.” 

“Could you get some fries too? Oh! And a milkshake? The one with the oreo pieces? Please.” He couldn’t see but your pouty lip had come out. 

“Anything you want doll.” 

“Thanks babe, how long do you think you’ll be?”

“Should be like 20 minutes, do you wanna watch something while we eat?” 

“You read my mind! I’ll set it up in time for you coming home.” 

“Okay, won’t be long. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” Bucky’s about to hang up before you quickly start speaking again. “Bucky?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Could you get me extra pickles on my burger?” 

You hear him scoff a little then laugh, “I’m hanging up now.” 

“Byeee.” You trail off until the call ends. You were never gonna let him live this one down.

#untitled #wwilsonbarness #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #buckybarnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #drabble #bucky barnes drabble

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (5)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, three, four

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: light flirting, light metion of sex, a lot of feelings, super fluff (in their particular way)

A/N: I'M BACK WITH THE NEW AND LAST (????) CHAPTER OF THE SERIES AFTER AN HIATUS WEEK. I wanted to post something good, something beautiful, true to the characters and the story you all enjoyed reading as much as i writing! (sorry for the possible grammatical mistakes!)

Side note: this chapter is to be read with different time frames, so changing the lights of the room and their resting positions in bed!

"Say it."

"Nope."

"Why not!?" he whines, his beautiful dove eyes pleading. "C'mon baby. Say it. I deserve it. All the awards. All the honors." The fact he’s beneath her, trapped between her body and the mattress, doesn't help make him look less submissive. She has to admit, it’s extremely pleasant to see how his dignified ass drags himself for her.

"But it would be a lie," she says, sticking out her tongue in a gesture intended to make him suffer a little more. Unbelievable that this is the same man who forced her to beg for sex a couple of hours ago. "and I’m no liar."

''Didn't seem like a lie to me when you were moaning my name and cumming on my cock for the third time some minutes ago.'' Ah, there it is, his ego is back again. Or at least, a glimpse of it. Took a while to appear. 

In front of him, (Y/N) just smiles devilishly, which makes Buggy growl and look at her with pleading eyes again. "Look, we already established I know and even like how you need to play difficult, it's part of your charisma, but I need to hear it, okay? I will give you anything your wayward, fussy heart could desire. Consider it a prize."

''Anything?''

''Anything.''

Hmm. She plays along, and pretends to think about it for long, torturous seconds, shaking her head from side to side in slowmo, taking a deep breath. 

As expected, soon enough she decides to give in-- she’s satisfied after making him beg in her own particular way.

''Fine.'' She takes a breath and starts her dramatic performance, with one hand on her own chest, eyes closed. ''Oh, Buggy, you were right, you are the best lover I’ve ever had, thanks to you my soul has ascended and I have seen the One Piece.''

That is not the praise he was expecting about his sexual skills. Not even close. But was so /him/, so dramatic, exaggerated, and incredibly hilarious, that despite faking offense on his face, eyes half-closed, lips pressed together, fingers pinching her hips as punishment, he has to admit -he will not-, was funny.

''You're a moron'' That’s about everything he has to say on the matter.

‘’Like Ol’Axe-Hand?’’ She asks, raising an eyebrow, hoping he gets it. And of course he does. He's so surprised that he widens his eyes, smirking. Is she actually admitting how incredibly funny he is? ''You still remember that joke?''

''Was so bad it stuck with me since then like a fucking nightmare.'' Hit and sunk.

''Ouch''

"Don't worry, there's still time to improve the quality of your jokes. But for now I'll take the prize you promised.''

''Ugh, fine. What do you want?’' Buggy thinks he knows (Y/N), so he’s convinced she will ask for something impossible. A challenge that will ridicule him or an astronomical sum of money. ''If what you want are berries I’m sorry to inform you, sunshine, I'm broke, I still have to find...'' but the clown shuts himself when he feels the girl's fingers slowly caressing his sharp jaw, finally pulling him by his chin towards her. He leans in too, eyes fixed on her lips, yearning for the kiss he can see so clearly written in the dreamy way she looks at him.

There’s no need to announce it, nor to start it with their usual flirting or provocations. It's slow and doesn't demand anything at all, nor is intended to be the trigger of their next round.

It's just a kiss. Something so simple and intrinsically complex at the same time. And in the same way as if it had been the most fiery and passionate of his life, as not long ago, this kiss leaves him breathless, unable to form a single coherent thought that has nothing to do with her.

Oh, he’s down bad. Just like she is.

              …

And there they are on the mattress, she’s sitting on his lap, legs around him, his hands on her hips, hers on his abdomen in a relaxed pose. The scene is typical of two lovers who have known each other for a lifetime -or at least for years- and not of two people who just had the wildest sex of their lives less than a couple hours ago. For the first time. 

They tell each other anecdotes, surreal stories, and laugh together inside that little bubble they don't even know how it was created, where it came from, or how the hell it could have absorbed them so much, making them completely ignore the outside world.

"What do you mean a giant bird!?" she screams in laughter, her stomach hurting, her lungs burning. "Aha, yeah, laugh all you want but imagine thinking that you’re about to die turned into damn bird feed. It would fucking piss me off."

As it can’t be otherwise, (Y/N) ends up laughing until she cries with the story of how Buggy arrived at Loguetown, and the clown finds himself exaggerating his story more and more with each laugh he manages to get from the girl, eager to hear it again, knowing he’s the only cause of this beautiful melody.

It’s absurd how he would love -kill- to know more about her, ‘cause if he stops to think about it, he doesn't know this woman at all. He knows nothing beyond her name, her crew, and the fact that she has a bold sense of humor. She’s brave and sarcastic, keen, sharp, and much more intelligent and savvy than -in his opinion- all the idiots around her.

And this is how and when he realizes the post-nut clarity theory hasn't worked for him. Getting her out of his twisted mind will not be as easy as fucking her a couple times, get his needed ton of personal satisfaction from making her beg for him, and moving on to the next thing to do/achieve on his list.

Goddamnhim.

"Alright, as much as I love and enjoy being the main character, it's time for you to drop your femme fatale facade and show me who you truly are."

"Awh,’’ she smiles tenderly, reaching for one of his cheeks. ‘’you see me like a femme fatale? That's so cute."

"Cut the crap.’’ The clown slaps her hand away, not in a violent way, but offended. ‘’You're not easily intimidated and I noticed you're good with knives too. That's sexy, and it makes me curious as hell about what you did before you joined those shitty heads."

Fair enough, she would be curious too, so she thinks about it, a bit wary of talking about her private life because there is a part of her that prefers to keep it intact -in case she wants to come back to it-. However, she reasons, mentioning what she did without being very specific doesn’t reveal anything at all. It would piss her off if Buggy casually knows her mercenary name -by which she’s fairly known among marines and pirates alike- and connects some dots all of a sudden. 

Is he actually that smart?

"I was a mercenary." She says calmly, shrugging her shoulders. "With that angelic face?" He retorts in disbelief, raising both eyebrows, even though he knows it fits her personality just right. "You'd be surprised what you're capable of with it."

"No, no, I actually believe you." He cracks an amused smile, looking directly into her eyes after carefully scanning her face. ''I mean, If someone like you tried to sneak onto my ship I would know it’s a trap, either to kill me or to steal from me but I would end up saying ''whatever you say beautiful'' and would actually let you do your thing.''

He's an idiot but still, once again, he manages to make her laugh. “Looking like that, anyone would give you anything,” he adds because he is, in fact and undoubtedly, willing to give her a little more of himself. More time and more attention, because he should definitely be out there gathering his crew -only God knows what they'll be doing- and figuring out how to get to the Grand Line without a damn map.

The idea of asking her, or even suggesting she steals it for him, doesn't even cross his mind. Not even after having shared this /intimate/ afternoon together. He knows she won't do it, she doesn’t own him shit, she’s not one of these women who fall in love and suddenly do everything, and leave everything behind, for the man of their dreams.

And of course Buggy can see the way she looks at him, without an ounce of contempt or distaste for his extravagant appearance or the atrocities he's sure she knows he's committed and of which he's not one bit ashamed. She sees him as he is and still, she’s here, offering him back something as valuable as her time and company.

But she won't give him more, he is aware of that. That's why he didn't offer (Y/N) to run away with him when he escaped from Arlong Park, because as much as she enjoys his company and maybe, just maybe, the clown imagines, feels something for him, he has the impression she’s a disgustingly loyal person, to her principles and her people, and as much as she likes to flirt with him, she would have said no.

He must admit, that's also how he likes her. Strong, capable, independent. He would kill no matter who to have her by his side as part of his crew, although he knows it won't happen. He would settle, however, with the -hypothetical- opportunity to meet from time to time on the high seas or on any random island. To sneak away from their crews in secret, to disappear for a few hours in which all his attention, his entire being, could focus on her, lower the curtain just a little, leave the spotlight behind and relax.

There is a small part of him, the one that makes him unable to stop looking intensely at her with those blue eyes that mirrors his own soul, that truly hopes she feels the same.

…

''You know'' she starts, absently stroking his hair, the clown's head in her lap. ''I imagine-- no, I know the whole nose topic is a sensitive thing for you but honestly, it shouldn't-- big noses are incredibly attractive, and yours? Believe me, anyone would want to sit on it.’’

What.

He's so taken aback by the suddenness of the comment he completely forgets what they were talking about before and on top of that, he's unable to reply for some seconds, looking at her like she just started speaking in another, incomprehensible language.

He ends up raising an eyebrow, running his tongue over his red lips. ''Including you?''

''Including me''

''Well, sunshine, today's your lucky day then'' Sitting up, in a blink of her eyes he turns, catches the girl's hips and drags her with him, lying down, leaving her sitting on his chest while he rest his head on the pillow. Buggy winks at her, licking his lips again, this time cheekily rather than thoughtfully. “I’m about to make another one of your dreams come true.”

''Horny bastard.'' she whispers, swallowing saliva. What a view, having him between her legs again. ''Never denied, sweetheart'' with a low, erotic, and breathtaking laugh, he surrounds both her thighs with his arms and pulls her body up in a quick movement, causing a sudden brush of his nose against the inside of her thigh.

(Y/N) shudders and takes a deep breath, spreading her legs a little further as she settles them on the pillow. ''Show me what else you can do, captain.'' To that he just groans, already getting hard with just having her on top of his face and her way of talking to him, pushing his buttons just the right way.

In no time she’s a complete, total, and absolute mess, writhing with pleasure. Hands grabbing his hair, hips rocking over his mouth, forcing his nose to rub against her clitoris, she softly moans his name, an occasional insult or any other possible blasphemy.

''Oh, fuck-- Buggy.''

…

Worn off makeup all around her body, sun setting, long hours spent together in which they have told funny, long stories about each other's life and of course, in which they have ended up letting free -once again- that suffocating sexual tension that attracts them to the other like a month to a lamp. Buggy, surprisingly, ends up letting his guard down to the point where he falls asleep, and not long after, he starts snoring.

(Y/N) knows, it's time to leave and look for her friends. She also knows she warned them about her obsession with the city and that the chances of her getting lost were high, and in that case they should not worry about her, blablabla, because she would come back sooner or later. She didn’t even remotely expect the reason for her disappearance would be a self-declared enemy -Luffy’s enemy- of her crew, tho. Neither was she going to spend so much time away from them to be with him.

The excuses she will need to cover her tracks are endless, and a pain in the ass without even started to think about them yet.

Will Zoro still be lost somewhere on the island? Because she obviously assumed, he got lost as soon as they split.

Still in bed, she takes a moment to calmly look at him. (Y/N) is aware of how this may be the last time they ever see each other, and -not- surprisingly, this thought sparks a pang of sadness in her. She really likes him. She wouldn't say she is in love with him, because those are big words and they barely know each other yet, but... he was right, the chemistry between the two was something impossible to deny. And it hasn't weakened, nor disappeared a single bit after sex. Quite the opposite-- It has become something more, a kind of deep and sincere fondness that in this precise moment, dark outside, distant voices over the window from drunkards and bastards around the streets, his breathing calm for a fraction of second, his eyes closed and the fresh breeze that enters the room, invites her to caress his blue hair while he sleeps, sighing.

It’s been a long, long time since (Y/N)’d enjoyed this kind of genuine, absolute peace, sharing with someone she cares about, a room where time does not exist and life is just a thought instead of reality.

Part of her wishes or better said, acknowledges, she would stay here the entire night if she could. The other says that’s ridiculous, and that those are her hormones talking and nothing else. It would pass.

But does she want it to pass? To fade away?

Finally getting out of bed -all her willpower at once- after long minutes in which she simply memorizes every possible detail around her, she begins to retrieve her clothes scattered throughout the room and get dressed in silence, trying not to wake him up.

Through all this process, in the depths of her head resonates a single thought, ringing as loud and strong as an alarm. She’s unable to shut it up. She can’t ignore it either. It's another kind of thought she shouldn't have, and at the same time… feels so natural, so logical, she doesn't feel guilty for having it.

But should she listen to it? Should she follow it?

Taking a seat in the chair that fulfilled its great purpose a few hours ago, she sighs, again, head resting on her hand, elbow on the table. With a small smile, her eyes fall back on that ridiculous, snoring clown. And then, she just knows.

Reaching to a little secret pocket in her pants, she takes out a small piece of folded paper and starts to open it slowly, being careful to not tear it apart, leaving it on the table of the room once the copy of the map of the Grand Line can be perfectly seen. When (Y/N) suggested her crew make a couple of copies in case something happened to the original, she never thought she would use hers like this, but she doesn't regret it in the slightest.

Biting the tip of her tongue, her eyes scan the partially darkened room, jumping from side to side. When she finally finds what she was looking for, she leans over the table, and taking the pen from the inkwell, she writes in the upper right corner of the map "I will be waiting for you right here, come find me" .

If someone asked her why she does this, why she feels this, why does she decide to ignore her common sense and give something so important to someone as -objectively- miserable as him, she would simply answer that there are things… or better said-- not things, but the little pieces here and there, pieces of himself left in her during conversations, shared glances, laughter, flirts, light touches and the deep strong ones that came after those. It's the way he tried to make her laugh at all costs or how he didn't give up trying to win her over. Those blue eyes so intense she would swear, they reached her soul, or the small, genuine smile she knows she has seen this same afternoon, really far from the forced, crooked, exaggerated ones he usually has.

It is all of this and much more, and opening the door of the room, closing it again so that no one disturbs Buggy while she escapes the building and heads to her ship to find her crew, she knows she can't wait to see him again.

She knows she will. Her sixth sense tells her so.

#the gif is an spoiler of the morning after #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece x reader #captain buggy #buggy x reader

[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Fucking Fight Club (2)

Summary: Hazel tries to control her powers during the first fight club. But because she's a loser, she fucks up. A lot.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mild violence, mentions of bruises and blood

Word Count: 3866

Note: Okay I know I gave y'all the first chapter yesterday but you guys surprised me with so much likes, I quickly whipped up the next chapter. The ending is kind of bad but lmfao idc. It's extra long cause I probably can't write until next weekend due to fucking midterms. I wish I could drop out and write fanfics all day long. But life is unfair to the gays. - Bia <3

“Okay, before we actually do this, I want Hazel to practice controlling her punches.” 

Josie had dragged PJ and Hazel to a hiking trail in the nearest forest. This wouldn’t have been mandatory if Hazel didn’t have the super-strength to murder a human with a single blow, but since she did, Josie wasn’t about to let the feminist self-defense fight club happen without a bit of rehearsal. 

“Fine, mom.” PJ rolled her eyes. She was used to Josie’s dramatic cautiousness, but this seemed like a waste of time. She turned to Hazel and offered her face. “Hazel, just relax, and punch me.”

Hazel did a double take. “Punch… punch you?”

“Okay, I don’t like that tone. I know how to take a punch. Something people would always say is ‘PJ knows how to take a punch.’ Come on up.”

“PJ, she literally beat up a grown man with metal octopus arms last week. And the week before that, a man made of indestructible sand. You remember that? On the news? You might know how to take a punch, but you don’t know how to take her punch.”

“That’s why we’re practicing!”  

“I meant like practice on a tree or something.” Josie waved towards the nearest tree, standing about 25 feet tall. “Hit a tree, Hazel.” 

Hazel shrugged, before pulling back and punching into the middle of the tree. In a split second, the tree quaked under the assault, its massive frame crackling under the exact spot of Hazel’s fist. The bark gave away first, exploding outward in a radial pattern. When she retracted her hand, there was a massive dent on the thick body of the tree, jagged fault lines extending from the center of the impact. 

PJ’s eyes widened. “Holy fuck. That could have been my face.” 

Josie shook her head. “Okay, so, obviously, you have to calm down. By a lot. Try the same thing, but like, weaken it?” 

Hazel nodded. She then gently tapped the tree with her fist. 

Josie shook her head again. “That was clearly too weak.” 

Hazel sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this, guys. I’m so used to punching psychopathic criminals who want to kill me, so I’m always using at least 90% of my strength.” 

“Which is why I brought this.” Josie pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. It turned out to be your face printed on an A4 sheet with a speech bubble that read, ‘punch me!’ “Now, hear me out—”

“-Actually, this is brilliant,” PJ said, taking the paper from Josie’s hands. She taped it to the tree and presented it to Hazel. “Imagine the tree is (Y/N). She’s standing in front of you. She’s sexy, she's wearing a bikini, she’s ready to learn, and she’s asking you to punch her. What do you do?” 

Hazel stared at the tree with your face on it. In spite of this entire scenario being outrageously stupid, Hazel’s eyes fixated on the piece of paper, trying to immerse herself in your 2D face. It seemed to be a copy from last year’s yearbook, one that she had spent many hours staring at. She felt weirdly guilty as she wrinkled her eyebrows.

“I don’t really want to punch her.”

“Well, you have to! This is for feminism!” PJ groaned when she saw the hesitancy in Hazel’s face. “Hazel, women like strong, protective people. Why do you think there’s a hulk shrine in the girl’s second floor bathroom? You punch (Y/N) straight in the face, and she’ll immediately fall in love with you.” 

“Well–”

“-She will, Josie.” 

Hazel nodded. It was worth a try. If she wanted to wrestle with you in this club, she had to try. With a measured breath, Hazel extended her arm, fingers curling into a tight fist. She delivered a punch, focusing on her strength rather than causing harm. The moment of impact was firm but gentle, almost considerate towards the tree’s bark. It was as if the tree had barely registered the encounter, although its leaves were left shaking. She turned to her friends. 

“Perfect,” PJ whispered, her eyes glistening in awe. “Let’s go beat some bitches up.”

“Not how I’d word it,” Josie muttered. 

That afternoon, you were taking a hike in the same forest with Isabel and Brittany. It was quite calming, walking and talking with your friends in the middle of a beautiful forest. Birds were chirping, winds were breezing– And you guys were completely alone, since nobody really came here, and if they did, it was usually after sunset to do drugs and film porn. 

The three of you reached the midpoint of the trail to take a small break, when Brittany pointed at a nearby tree. 

“Hey, isn’t that…” 

You followed her finger to a tall tree that seemed to be beaten up by someone, with its bark splintered and smashed by a form of impact. And in the middle of its trunk, was a photo of you, with a speech bubble that read ‘punch me!’. 

Your heart dropped. 

“Oh my god, (Y/N), somebody wants to kill you,” Isabel gasped. She walked up to the tree and ripped the paper off. “Isn’t this from our yearbook?” 

You reached out to take the paper from Isabel’s hand and inspected it closely. It was indeed a page from the previous year’s yearbook, with your smiling face captured in a freeze-frame moment of your junior days. The speech bubble, however, had been added later, which meant that someone had deliberately printed your face, edited it, and pinned it to a tree to violently punch it out. 

You felt a chill down your body. Who could have done this? You knew it was hard to be friends with everyone from school– but who would despise you enough to do this vicious and also slightly weird property damage to nature? 

“We should report it or something, like to a park ranger,” Brittany offered, sensing your panic.  

“No, They’re just going to tell us not to come back here wearing shorts,” You sighed. There were no cameras on the trail or anything, and the park rangers were men who were probably going to comment on your appearance instead of the actual problem at hand. “I have to do something about this by myself.” 

You needed protection. No, you needed to learn how to protect yourself. You needed teachers who could help you protect yourself from evil highschool men. 

You needed Hazel Callahan. 

You turned to your friends with a determined face, masking your fear before saying;

“Do you guys want to join a self-defense club with me?”

 Isabel and Brittany paused, exchanged glances, then nodded. 

“What the fuck. These girls are ugly.”

It was the first club meeting for the feminist self-defense fight club, and there were exactly 8 girls waiting in the gym. Absolutely no sign of you. Hazel laid on the gym mats, trying not to show her disappointment. She reached for her phone, staring at your number in her contacts. She never got to texting you because she was panicking over what to say one night, and was busy fighting off muggings and carjackings every other night. 

“Are you stressed? Cause I’m stressed,” Josie muttered, as the advisor for the club hopped in, earning a sharp breath from Hazel. 

“Hey, ladies! Let’s get it poppin’ in this motherfucker.”

Hazel blinked. Mr. G was the advisor for this club? 

This was going to be absolutely horrendous. 

“Alright, uhm… hello, everybody,” Josie tried, looking around the gym filled with girls jumping on trampolines, hula-hooping, scooting, and balance-balling. “Okay, excuse me, sorry, I feel- sorry–” 

“-EVEVRYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP.” PJ hit the floor with a broom, each collision echoing through the space with a ‘BANG’. 

“This isn’t a little hangout, okay? Oh it’s not a sleepover or playtime. There are serious rules that we need to establish, okay? 

“First? Listen to Hazel.” 

Hazel lifted her hand in a subtle gesture. 

“Second? Be on time. Except for you,” PJ pointed to Mr. G. “You come whenever you want. What time is it?”

“3:30–-” 

“-3:30! Club starts at 3:15. Not 3:16, not 3:17. But the door closes at 3:15. No exceptions!”

Hazel smiled. Other than the fact that they were the ones who were actually late, PJ was doing amazing, putting authority towards the three girls and setting the ambiance. PJ could be a menace sometimes most of the time, but when she wanted to get shit done, she got shit done. Hazel was almost too distracted by PJ’s rant—

“-I don’t care, if you’re like, oh, but I had to go get extra help for math because I need to get a full ride because my mom lives in a trailer and she loves her boyfriend more than me, bleh blah blarh blargh– Shut up. My dad left me and I’m incredibly punctual–”

–That she didn’t even notice you walking into the gym with Isabel and Brittany following closely behind. When she did notice, her heart seemed to pick up speed, her lips curling into a smile even without realizing. Josie recognized the smile– one that Hazel only had when she was talking about her crush— and Josie turned around, motioning to PJ that the holy trinity had entered the gym. 

Your eyes met with Hazel’s, and you waved in acknowledgement. She almost dropped her notebook as she looked around to check if you were waving to someone else, and then she fumblingly waved back. You giggled. Hazel had this face that effortlessly radiated innocent charm. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to her slightly nerdy demeanor. (it’s called being gay)

“Hey, guys. Come on in,” PJ rasped. “Uh… we’re just getting started here.” 

You walked to Hazel and stood beside her. “Sorry we’re late,” you apologized. 

The three girls shook their heads. “Don’t worry about it—”

“-Uhm, the rules were for next week, but this week is good–”

“-Yeah, no worries, take it easy.” 

Annie seemed confused. “Okay, I just want to make sure– This is a self-defense class, right? Where we can learn to protect ourselves against football players.”

“And the criminals that Spider-Woman has been fighting? Cause, uhm, crime rate has been going up so criminals are gonna pork us. They’re gonna pork us.”

“I thought we were fighting each other for money. There’s a cash prize, right?” 

“I thought this was to be a part of like a local, underprivileged female community.” 

“My identity is completely attached to hers so I just go wherever she goes.”

“I thought I could learn how to protect myself. Cause I’m pretty sure someone’s trying to kill me,” You added. 

“What?” Hazel turned, her eyes filled with worry. 

“Everyone’s here for a good reason!” Josie laughed. “So, you know, why are we nitpicking reasons?” 

“Yeah! So, let’s jump in. Hazel, why don’t you take it away?” 

“Uh.” 

PJ and Josie stepped back and began clapping. Everyone else followed along into a scattered and confused applause. Hazel walked to the front, opening up her notebook to the page reading ‘Self-Defense Club.’ 

“Okay. Hi. I’m Hazel. And I’m going to teach you guys how to fight. Maybe throw some punches. Some kicks.”

There was a bit of silence, maybe a single cough. PJ spoke up.

“(Y/N), since you’re closest to Hazel, why don’t you volunteer and step up?” 

You shrugged. “Sure.” 

You weren’t completely sure what was going on or how exactly Hazel was going to teach self-defense, but you dropped your backpack to the floor and walked towards Hazel, who looked incredibly afraid of what was going to happen next. She looked over your shoulders to PJ and Josie. 

PJ mouthed the words, ‘Punch her. She’s the tree. Punch her.’

Hazel sent signals through her eyes meaning, ‘I can’t– I’m not gonna punch her.’ 

PJ continued to mouth the words, ‘Punch her. Hulk shrine. Imagine her wearing a bikini.’ 

Hazel’s face contorted with disbelief, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and her mouth slightly agape. Was she actually going to punch the girl that she’d been crushing on for years? Was this really the way to do it? She tried to ignore PJ who was now mouthing ‘punch your virginity away’ and instead curled her hands into fists, imagining the tree, the print-out of your face saying ‘punch me!’, you wearing a bikini, your smile, your wave, your eyes, your body—

-While you stood beside her, wondering why Hazel looked like she was about to shit herself. You began to open your mouth to ask if she was okay. 

“Hazel—”

—And she flung her fist to your face. 

You didn’t even register what had happened until a sharp burst of pain radiated from your nose, and you found yourself laying on the floor of the gym. You heard gasps and shouts and something about Mr. G trying to shut the club down (“Hey hey hey hey hey– I don’t know about this shit-”) as you slowly sat up, tasting liquid metal. The pain began to spread to the rest of your face as your eyes blurred up, leaving you momentarily stunned and struggling to regain your composure. 

“Fuck, (Y/N)- I’m so sorry-” a horrified voice rang in front of you, and you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The hand seemed to be shaking, and you wiped your hazy eyes to see Hazel kneeling beside you, her expression embedded with guilt. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” 

“You didn’t even warn her!” Annie screamed. 

PJ shrugged. “Okay, we didn’t get warnings in juvie. Juvie was way crazier. One time, this girl’s punching me in the rain. Fall to my knees. It’s muddy. I get up– I’m blind. Punch her right in the middle of her face. Broke her fucking nose.” 

“Pretty sure Hazel broke (Y/N)’s nose too,” Annie grumbled. 

Isabel hurriedly handed you a couple of paper towels as Mr. G pushed the crowd to assess the situation. 

“Let me see her,” Mr. G ordered, gasping when he saw the amount of blood coming from your nose. “Oh, shit, man, we gotta shut this down.” 

“No, No—” 

“-Shut this shit down. Shut it down—” 

“-No, Don’t blow the whistle– Don’t blow the whistle!” Josie yelled. Everyone went silent, turning their attention from you to Josie. “I know that, you know– this is a little messy and bloody right now— Hazel, can you take (Y/N) to the nurse’s office–  but like, the only way that we can learn how to defend ourselves is by teaching each other.” 

Josie continued on with her little speech as Isabel and Brittany offered to take you to the nurse. But Hazel denied their help, rambling something about how this was all her fault. She picked you up fairly easily to your surprise, bridal style, and carried you out of the gym. You clutched onto her and rested your aching face into her stomach, feeling embarrassed.

When you arrived at the office, the nurse had gone home already, leaving Hazel to place you on the examination bed and find the medical kit. She seemed really anxious as you touched your face, your hand coming back dripping in red. 

“God, juvie really taught you how to punch, huh,” You joked, battling your agony with humor. Hazel didn’t laugh. Instead she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the sink water, indulging the silence. You tried again. “Hazel.” 

It was ignored once again as Hazel kneeled in front of you and started cleaning your face, her thumb gently holding your chin. She was very obviously avoiding your gaze with the best of her ability. 

“Hazel, look at me.”

Hazel finally looked up to your eyes. She looked like a child knowing that she was about to be reprimanded or put on time out— and you almost felt sorry for Hazel, even though you were the one bleeding out. She seemed to grimace as you opened your mouth, getting ready to be shouted at. But instead, you asked;

“Why didn’t you message me?”

Hazel paused. 

“I gave you my number. You didn’t message me,” You said again, completely serious. “You don’t like me?” 

“No, I like you!” Hazel exclaimed. Her cheeks turned into a shade of pink as she tried to reword the sentence. “I mean, I don’t don’t like you, I… I’m really sorry. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to come to the club, and I’m sure you don’t want to anymore-”

“-No, I want to.” You interrupted. “I mean, my face hurts like a bitch, but… it was a solid punch. And I really do need to learn how to defend myself like that. I think someone’s trying to kill me, so I want to be ready.”

Hazel cocked her head. “Is someone attacking you? Do you need help?” 

You shook your head. “Not exactly, but I did see my face taped onto a tree, and someone had hit it really, really hard. Like, incredibly hard. Maybe with a rock, or something? I don’t know. I think it might be a death threat.”

Color seemed to drain out of Hazel’s face. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you–” You explained, mistaking Hazel’s pale skin as fear. “Listen, I’m not angry at you. Well, okay, I am a little, I think you could have warned me about the punch, at least, but… I know that you’re still recovering from your past and you’re probably on edge all the time.” 

Hazel nodded along, as it was partially true– she was on edge, but mainly because you were staring down at her with blood on your face and you still managed to look hot as fuck. She choked on her words before saying, “Still, I shouldn't have punched you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m really sorry.” 

You smiled. “This is the whole point of the club though, right? You punch me, I punch you… and we become stronger together– ow.” 

You winced when the cloth touched a particular spot on your nose bridge, being reminded of your injury. 

“Shit, sorry, here—” Hazel instantly dropped the cloth. She carefully cupped your face, examining your wound with sincere worry. She was used to seeing wounds on herself, but seeing them on a person that she liked— seeing them on you, made her particularly upset. 

You were surprised to see Hazel being so serious. Every time you tried to talk to her, she was either nervous or punching you. To see her so focused on your face made you feel a bit self-conscious, leading you to comment on her skills to break the silence.

“You seem to have a lot of experiences patching someone up. Do you do this often?” 

She chuckled, “You have no idea.” 

You assumed she was talking about juvie, and you recalled seeing the bruises on her face the last time you talked to her. Was Hazel still having problems with crime even after prison? You stared at her, your heart throbbing with sympathy for Hazel. What struggles had she faced in her past for her to learn to punch so strongly, to patch up bruises, and to always be nervous around others? 

Hazel pulled away from you, finishing up the basic patch-up. She started putting the medical kit away as you caught sight at the mirror across from you.

“Great. I look awful.” You sighed, lingering on your reflection.

“No, you don’t.”

Hazel tore her eyes away from the kit and responded, as if you had said something completely out of reality. You laughed and shook your head, looking at the floor.

“No, my face is a complete mess–” 

“-You look pretty.” 

You tore your eyes off from the floor to Hazel. She was staring at you with a soft look in her eyes, one that you felt yourself getting lost in. She had such… honesty within them, as if she fully believed your beauty underneath the red and blue color. 

“You always do.”

And for a moment you wondered how you had never truly seen Hazel before— when the soft glow from the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm light over the two of you. Hazel’s brown hair, cascading into a messy mullet, framed her face which seemed to be burning up each second that passed. 

“...you too,” You muttered, a shy smile replacing your dumbstruck expression. “I hope you know that.”

Then it was her turn to gawk, at you and your hands timidly placed on your legs which dangled from the examination bed. She was reminded of her crush that had been sitting in her heart for years. She had just spent 5 minutes in a room alone with you— and for a second, she was almost glad that she punched you. 

And all of a sudden, Hazel seemed to recognize the lack of space between the two of you. Had you been this close to her this entire time? Your face was just inches apart from hers, and time seemed to stretch as you two gazed at each other, hearts thumping in unison. It was as if the wall Hazel had managed to build around her feelings towards you crumbled within this moment. Hazel’s lips parted, just a fraction, as if inviting the inevitable to say—

“-The club isn’t being shut down!” 

The office door swung open with a bang. 

Hazel immediately leaped back from you, as you whipped your face towards PJ and Josie who stopped in their celebratory tracks, analyzing the odd tension from the room.

“Oh, sorry, we thought–” Josie gaped, rubbing the back of her head in awkwardness. “How are you doing, (Y/N)?” 

“I’m doing okay, actually. I should go. But I’ll see you later, bye.” You hopped down from the bed and started walking out of the room, talking a bit too fast for anyone’s comfort. You almost fell over while you ran down the hallway, unable to accept what had just unfolded. What was that? You almost— you almost kissed a girl. You almost kissed Hazel Callahan.

In the meantime, Hazel was also mortified at the fact PJ and Josie had interfered right then and there. She hid her face with her hands which her friends mistook for anger.

Josie tried to calm her down, “Okay, I know that today was kind of a disaster and you made (Y/N) bleed, but after you left we managed to grow the spirit. Everyone’s into beating each other up now. It’s kind of working.”

“And, I honestly don’t know what just went on right now but… (Y/N) just said she’ll ‘see you later’. Which means it kind of worked for you too,” PJ added. “And it doesn’t seem like you broke her nose, which meant that you can actually control your power!”

“Are you still up for this, Hazel?” 

Hazel peeked out from hands, her face still red, her heart still sprinting, her mind still thinking about your lips— and how you said you would see her later. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded and said,

“Let’s fucking do this.”

Previous Chapter: The Origin

Next Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader #josie bottoms #pj bottoms #hazel callahan spiderwoman #hazel callahan x you #bottoms (2023)

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule VIII

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: last two chapters before the end of season 1! Thank you for enjoying the ride with me 🫶🏻

Masterlist, Latibule VII

Jung Hoseok watched over the glass of whiskey he was was sipping from as the last living member of the group entered the room. He smiled at Kim Taehyung as he plopped down on the seat with an exhausted sigh.

“Well, don’t you look good, Tae,” Namjoon drawled, his eyes focused on his tablet as he was ever so busy.

“I have no time to remove my makeup, hyung,” he replied in annoyance as he pointed at the faux bruises he had on his face from taping his latest movie. “Someone insisted I’d be here at this exact hour.” His eyes shifted at Seokjin who hadn’t said a word since he arrived, merely looking at them with emotionless eyes as though they were under a microscope.

“So why are we here, then?” Jungkook voiced out the unspoken query they had between them,

Hoseok placed down his glass with a thud, leaning forward, his arms hanging on his spread knees as he eyed them with a smile on his face. “Don’t you think it’s time to elect a leader?” He inquired curiously, his head tilted to the side as though he was overtly concerned. “There’s only so much violence and chaos our Kookie can do before they start taking advantage of our current predicament.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow lifted as he paused his reading on the tablet. He raised his eyes to Hoseok, his intelligent mind running a mile per second. “And just in time for her death anniversary, hyung.”

Hoseok’s gritted his teeth, his eyes hardening at the mere mention of her, of the person he fucking lost, “It’s what she would’ve wanted, Joonie,”

“Is it?” He drone with tone dripping with boredom. “Funny, I remember clearly how she never wanted to be part of our world…or am I wrong?”

Jungkook looked up thoughtfully from his phone, “For someone who didn’t want to be part of our world, Noona sure did know her way around knives and poisons.”

Jimin clicked his tongue at the golden maknae, “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Kookie.”

“It was a compliment, hyung!”

Amidst the chaos of arguments between the two, Hoseok looked at their oldest hyung- the original prince of the underworld. “You’re quiet, hyung.” he observed dryly, his smile pleasant as though he wasn’t the traitor that he was. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Seokjin stared at him with coldness in his eyes, how he was raised as the mafia prince showing as he regarded him with apathy and calmness. If it was anyone, they would have ran from the hills and yet, running wouldn’t have saved them. Nothing could have saved them should Seokjin chose to end them. “I’m just thinking about the traitor. Do you think he’s sitting with us right now, Hoseok?”

—-

Dominant.

That was how you would describe his kisses. Your Suga never did once hesitate, his lips strong and certain. He kissed you like he was starved, like he had been in hell for far too long and you were his first and only reprieve. And in between his kisses, you could feel his lips stretched into a smile. What you did not expect was his hands- of how soft his hands were as they cradled your head closer to him. You didn’t expect to feel the tremble in his hands as though he was having a difficult time controlling himself. What you most didn’t expect was how gentle he was as he caressed your cheek as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

And you were too powerless from his kisses. You held on to his thick wrist as he rested his forehead on yours.

He was breathing as hard as you were, and when you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you with softness and sparkle in his eyes that you never saw before.

“Okay?” He asked. You smiled at him as you nodded twice. You closed your eyes and savored this moment, your hand tracing every part of his face, forcing yourself to commit how he was at the very moment to memory.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Perhaps, what you didn’t anticipate and never thought of in your wildest dreams was how clingy he could be, you meant, looked at him! He was the least person you’d thought of to want to cuddle from how you knew him. You meant, wasn’t he the person who valued his personal space that he once pushed you to the side when you walked an inch closer to him back when you barely knew him?

His arms tightened on your waist when you attempted once again to get up from the bed. Suga had your head tucked firmly on under his chin, his leg in between your legs which further secured you to him.

You couldn’t leave him without him knowing about it. Yet, this didn’t deter you from attempting to get up.

“You’re going nowhere today, Angel,” he ordered grumpily, his body inching even closer to you, his cheek rubbing on your head like the cat you thought he was.

“We need to get up. We have work-“

“No, we don’t. We’ll call in sick today,” he murmured stubbornly, his hand rubbing your back softly. “I just got you. I can’t let you go.”

You looked up at him, and you swore at this very moment he looked so at peace and content that you couldn’t help but agree.

And so, you two called in sick.

“Then what should we do today?”

“Let’s go to the beach.”

Beach was a two-hour travel by bus and it was so worth it. The weather was perfect, and everything was so bright except for your companion who you couldn’t comprehend why was wearing black. He had his long hair on a half-bun, his eyes emotionless as though he wasn’t the one who suggested going to the beach. When you asked him why he wanted to go to the beach, he said that it was what the internet said when he researched where to go with your special someone. He said it so unapologetically that you weren’t able to say anything.

But heavens did you love it here. Back when everything wasn’t as difficult, your family would always go to the beach. You weren’t exactly rich, but your parents did everything to provide for you and sent you to medical school. Your whole life was just ahead of you until the tragedy happened. You thought you would never be genuinely happy again, but seeing him walk alongside you, your hand secured in his and as the wind blew his dark hair and the sound of waves were the only thing that could be heard, you were so certain you were happy again.

Suga made you happy.

He watched you fondly with his hands in his pockets as you skipped on the fine sand, your eyes crinkled to the sides as you dipped your feet on the warm sea. The emotion he had a hard time naming was now apparent to him- he was enraptured by you. You absolutely looked like an angel, he thought. And he would do anything to not bring his hell on you.

And without you noticing, he took a photo of you with the phone you gifted him before. The photo turned out to be low-quality, the resolution grainy but despite all that, it proved to be his favorite photo of you.

You were happy with him, Suga thought. An angel like you was happy with him.

“Why didn’t we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to ask him. He looked up at you from his lunch. The two of you decided to eat in the quaint restaurant situated on the seaside, the locals and tourists alike swarmed the place.

“Why didn’t we what, Angel?” He questioned as he placed more meat on your rice.

“You know…”

“I seem to not understand what you mean, Angel,” he commented confusedly, yet when you looked up at him he was attempting so hard to hide his smile.

You glared at him, “Why didn’t we do it?”

“Oh, that,” he pondered with his fingers stroking his chin as though in thought. “I knew it. You find me irresistible and I can’t blame you-“

“I take it back. I take it all back-“

Suddenly, he leaned closer to you, his finger tilting your chin up to him. “You have no idea how difficult it was to stop myself from taking you last night,” he divulged, his eyes were serious. “But Angel, you deserve more than a quick night. You deserve to be romanced.”

Suga told you he would be right back after your lunch. He said that he saw something in the souvenir shop that Jackson junior would loved. You waited and waited, however, you thought he was taking a lot longer than he should have.

You decided that you would just go to the shop, after all it was near to the bus station. You walked out of the restaurant. The sun was about to set, making the place looked more ethereal. You found it both beautiful and sad. You wondered when you’d be able to see this again. You were about to cross the road when a strong hand pulled you back so swiftly that you had no choice but to slam your body to his, as his other hand guided your waist to him.

A strong, loud horn from the car reverberated on the otherwise peaceful street as it sped away, barely missing your form.

Fuck.

Holy shit.

People swarmed at you as they asked you if you were okay, but all you could hear was the sound of heart beating so loud. All you could focused on was the arms that saved you. You were both on the ground, his body beneath you after he saved you and you could feel his arms trembled against you.

All of the noise faded as you looked up at Suga, beside him laid the paper bag of what he bought the child. He was looking at you with alarm, the memory of you about to get hit by a car because you didn’t see it was still fresh in his mind.

“Suga-“

“I told you,” he started, his teeth gritted with panic and anger. “I told you I only got you. I told you I cannot fucking lose you- that I can never lose you. What the fuck were you thinking? Didn’t you see the car!?”

You didn’t.

That was the truth, you didn’t see much. Because if you did, you would have seen him walked to you just as you exited the restaurant. He was almost in front of you that time, and yet, you didn’t see him.

You feared your condition was near its extremity.

One week passed since your almost accident. You stared at the paper white walls decorated by several diplomas and certificates of him. The clinic was quiet, the only thing that could be heard was the door opening and your doctor seating in front of you. He sighed.

And you were used to this.

Initially, you were hopeful that there was a cure, that an operation was possible. But there wasn’t a cure- they could only prolong your eyesight for so long. And the operation was something you could never afford. You needed to go abroad for it, you needed to recuperate for months for it- all those things were out of your hands. Your condition started when you lost your parents at that tragic accident. Your father was the kindest and most hardworking man, and he had the moral of a saint. That, you thought, was his downfall.

It was late at night when your father witnessed a murder. It was a huge news, you remembered. A senator perished that night, and your father was the key witness to it all. Immediately, your whole world was flipped around. Your family had to go into a witness protection program, leaving the life you knew behind. The days were idle and quiet, but at night the three of you were in trepidation of what could have happened.

Until one night, the unthinkable happened.

Your father was on edge, saying that the three of you were no longer safe there, that the police was not all on your side. You remembered the car ride like it was yesterday. You remembered your father driving with urgency away from the safe house.

You remembered the sudden light aimed beside you, illuminating all three of your inside the dark car. You remembered your mother’s panicked scream, your father’s agitated movements as he tried to dodge the car all to no avail. And then you remembered a car slamming on your side.

You woke up a week later with a terrible news: your parents didn’t make it.

But you did.

It was another three months later when signs started manifesting. The impact from the car accident was so severe that it affected your eyes.

“Did you already prepare, Ms. Y/N?” The doctor asked kindly after several beats of silence.

You chuckled at his worried eyes. He had always been kind to you, offering you help, sending you pamphlets of where you could get help, even going as far as researching for a service dog. He had a fatherly concerned for you, and you appreciated him. “I’m going blind, Doc. Not dying,” you reprimanded him with humor in your voice.

He didn’t return your smile and instead, he sighed before pushing his glasses up. “Did you tell your family?”

A beat of silence. “I have none.”

“Do you have…anyone?”

It was dark when you arrived, your eyes focused on your feet as your conversation with your doctor played in your head. You had limited time. You were almost near when you looked up and saw Suga waiting for you outside your shared home. He smiled the moment he saw you, the sides of his eyes crinkled. He walked to you and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. Your face was buried on his muscular chest, inhaling his muscular scent.

He smelled like home, you thought.

Maybe you did have someone.

Maybe you had him.

“Affirmative, boss,” a man hidden in the shadows said in his earpiece, his eyes trained on the living leader of the mafia world. “Agustd is alive.”

Tip Jar

Latibule IX

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #mafia min yoongi #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yandere min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #mafia bts

[macfrog]

la petite mort sex on fire chapter four

bonsoir my children. it's your cool slutty daddy, ceo!joel, back for round two of paris trip. please enjoy, i hope this one causes less confusion but just as much heart failure as last chapter. love u guys long time. literally SO much. 💘✨💓

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you spend your second day in paris being spoiled by joel, who buys you anything you set eyes on. you’ve a treat of your own in mind as a thank-you, later on

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) another fucking confusing flashback, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, more obscene spending, sexy french speaking, sugardaddy!joel, BIG flirting, alcohol consumption, sexy lingerie, lapdance, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected piv sex, titty appreciation, assplay, double penetration, dom!joel, softdom!joel, ripping of expensive lingerie (rip), overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!joel, angst, themes of abandonment, fluff in the end i'm a romantic at heart

word count: 6.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first. “Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.” “Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?” “No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

The late afternoon sun has dipped behind the clouds. The wind’s picked up, too. You’re standing on the terrace of your suite, elbows propped on the metal railing, watching the light slowly drain from the sky, and melt into tiny twinkling headlights on the roads below.

Paris stares straight back at you. Melancholy, in this light. A little faded, worn, a washed gray as she loses her fight with the slow-setting sun. Your eyes trace the skyline, jumping from buildings to streetlights, following birds in the distance as they loop and soar over the city. Free. Held down to nothing, and no one.

When you close your eyes, he’s on the couch beside you. Blue-eyed stare cloudy, eyes puffy and red with tears he’s doing everything to hold back. Calling you sweetheart, telling you we can work through this. He’s got your bare fingers in his, thumbs running across your knuckles, rubbing circles around the empty space on your third finger. You have an impulse to stand up and walk out. You think you might follow through with it.

You don’t even hear him come in, don’t hear him call your name. Only feel when his arm snakes around your waist and he turns you to face him. Your eyes flutter back open.

“Hey,” Joel says, leaning back to look you up and down. “Nice robe.”

His fingers toy with the belt, thumb running across the soft terrycloth.

“You smell like whiskey,” you mutter, hands resting on his chest. You take a deep breath, pushing the relief you feel now that he’s back, down to the pit of your stomach. And then you finally look him in the eye. “How was Jean-Marc?”

Joel shrugs. “Same as usual. Wants to meet you.”

“You mentioned me?”

He bypasses your question. “Said I’d check with you, but he wants to have us for breakfast tomorrow.”

You nod. “Sounds like a nice guy.”

Joel grumbles, his lips tighten, and he looks out over the view behind you. You tilt your head and his hands take yours, dropping them to your side. His eyes fall low, past the tie he was just messing with.

“You gettin’ ready to go?”

“I was about to, yeah,” you reply, breathing a laugh when he starts to kneel in front of you. “Joel.”

“Mhm?” he asks, but he’s not listening, is he? His hands run up your legs, starting at your knees, and push the edges of your robe apart the higher they go.

“We – gotta – Joel,” you sigh, head rolling back, hands gripping the railing.

Joel’s lips part on your inner thigh, his tongue runs along your skin, trailing northward. His hands precede, pushing under your robe now to cup your naked ass, when he lifts his chin and glances up.

“Nothin’ on under it, baby,” he whispers, tsking. “’m I gonna do with you?”

“We have–” you shudder when his fingers move between your legs, “–to go get ready.”

“So go.”

Fucker.

You lean back against the glass, eyes quickly scanning the hotel in front of you, searching the neighboring windows for any prying eyes, but in the slow-moving blanket of dusk, mixed with your will to care quickly depleting, you find none.

Your attention draws back to Joel, whose lips run dangerously close to your center.

“Open, baby,” he says, and you don’t think about it. Your body just does what he tells it to.

Your legs fall open, head lulls to one side, fingers move through his hair. His jaw lowers, breath gently tickling your soft skin, and then his lips cup around your mound.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which quickly morphs into a moan, open-mouthed and broken, when Joel’s tongue sweeps over your clit.

“There,” you whisper, a little more serious than you intended, “do that – again.”

He obeys, wet tongue licking you again while his hands pull your thighs over his shoulders. Your weight shifts onto his body, back arching as he sucks on the sensitive bud.

Your hips roll, needing him a little more and a little further south. And he hears you, again. He takes a hand off of your leg, middle and ring fingers joining together to push up between your folds and inside you, dragging a whine from your lips.

“Yeah,” you moan, feeling yourself driving into his mouth and fucking yourself on his hand at the same time.

“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbles, mouth preoccupied.

Your head falls back, body slung over the balcony, thighs spreading ever so slightly to have more of him on more of you. And then your head starts to dizzy, your body hums in pleasure, your cunt starts to throb.

But before it goes any further, he’s pulling away.

His lips leave first. Then he draws his hand from between you, sucks his fingers clean and stands. Is he fucking –

“– serious?” you ask, jolting back to life.

He smirks, tongue pushing around his cheeks. “Hurry up ‘n get ready. I wanna go down to the bar for a drink before the car comes.”

And then he’s turning on his heel, striding back inside.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” he calls over his shoulder.

Your hands hit your thighs with a slap. “Fucking…sadist,” you hiss after him, following him into the warmly lit living room of your suite and down the hallway to the bedroom. Trying to ignore the ache between your legs which only grows worse the more you move.

“I’ll take good care of you later, angel.”

He sits back against the dresser at the foot of the bed, nods toward the black dress you’d laid out on the mattress an hour ago.

“Go on.”

“Go on what?”

“Show me the dress I paid three grand for on you, instead of it laying on the fuckin’ bed.”

You roll your eyes and storm by him, grabbing the black fabric, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“’n don’t you think about finishin’ yourself!” Joel calls through the door.

“Fuck you!” you throw back, hearing his cocky laugh echo around the room.

You untie your robe in front of the mirror, letting it drop off of your shoulders into a pool of white cloth at your feet. Your eyes flit down your naked body – scanning from your shoulders over your breasts, around your tummy and down your thighs. You slip the black material over your head – a little stretch in it, just enough to mold around your body – and tug it down until it sits comfortably on your thighs.

The smooth skirt sits perfectly on your hips, curving around your ass and pulling in at your waist. You adjust the thin straps, fixing your breasts into place above a cut-out, just revealing enough. Backless, of course, straps crisscrossing over your skin.

It's skimpy, and it’s sexy, and it’s enough to make you look expensive as fuck and also make Joel want to rip it off of you the second you two make it back to the suite.

Enough to make him want to rip it off you before you’ve even left the suite, going by his reaction when you step out of the bathroom. He catches you in the mirror whilst he buttons his shirt, and turns, mouth falling open, eyes dancing all across your body.

You wordlessly sit, slip your feet into the heels you’d chosen, and fish the diamond-encrusted jewelry Joel had bought you from its box – pull the necklace around your neck, clip the earrings into place, and push the bracelets over your wrist. Then, you sling your jacket over your arm, and stand.

“I’m ready.”

“You…” His eyes scan down you again, settling on your chest for a couple seconds. “Yeah, baby. Give me five minutes.”

----------

The hotel bar reflects perfectly the intimidating grandeur of your suite, despite being a small room. It’s intimate, and pleasant, lit in a warm glow, and as you stroll in on Joel’s arm beneath a huge, ornate chandelier, you feel a smile pull across your lips. You’re not fucking sure why.

He leads you over to two heavy leather stools, pulling one out and waiting for you to hop up on it before he sits beside you. He orders two glasses of red wine, and the waiter craftily pours a small drop into one glass, setting it down in front of you and waiting for you to take a sip and approve before he pours the rest.

“Pétrus,” the waiter says, focusing intently on filling Joel’s glass. “Most expensive wine in France.”

You shoot Joel a look, but he’s already lifting his glass, glint in his eye. You hesitantly pick yours up and bump it into his, taking another sip.

“Good?” Joel asks, licking his lips.

You nod. “A little too good.”

He laughs. Then he nods at the waiter, who smiles, turns to you, and winks.

You smile back, a little embarrassed. “Merci beaucoup.”

As the waiter leaves you both, Joel turns, a look on his face you’ve never seen before. “Nice accent,” he says.

You scoff. “I hope it’s a nice accent, I studied it for six years.”

“Studied French?”

You nod.

“When?”

“High school, and then all through college.”

“How did I not know that about you?”

“It’s on my resume,” you say into your wine glass, “which I now know you didn’t read when you hired me.”

“Didn’t have to,” Joel replies. “I took one look at your pretty face ‘n decided you had the job.”

Him and his quick fucking wit. He almost catches you blushing, but you save it by shaking your head, and looking at the striped-wall room around you. There’s a framed picture of a horse on the wall behind Joel. Two men sit in animated conversation on the velvet couch below it, one of them clutching a wine that’s about to spill over.

When your eyes drift back to Joel, his are fixated elsewhere.

“Oh, be less obvious, Joel,” you mutter, corners of your mouth twitching.

“Can’t help it,” he finally draws his gaze from your chest, “they look so good. That dress is…” He shakes his head.

“You chose well.”

“Say somethin’ French to me.”

“Uh, no.”

“Uh, yeah. Tell me I chose well in French.”

“Tell me how the meeting went.”

Joel sits back, pushing air out of his cheeks. “Can’t do that.”

“Then no French.”

“Baby, c’mon. Just for me.”

You shake your head, pouting your lip. “Nope.”

Joel pleads a few more times, promises he’ll buy you more things, promises he’ll order more wine, even promises he’ll fuck you in the bathroom right now if you’ll just say one sentence in French to him.

You don’t relent.

Not until you’re a couple more wines deep, leaning into one another, your knees between his, pointing out other guests in the room and conjuring make-believe backstories for them.

“That one,” you say, hushed, shoulder brushing off of Joel’s, “in the corner, by the lamp. He’s waitin’ for a date, a Tinder date, who–”

Joel snorts. “A Tinder date?”

“–a Tinder date, who used photos of Cindy Crawford on her profile.”

Joel’s head tips back with laughter, his hand steadies himself on the bar. “If Cindy Crawford ends up walkin’ in here, you’re gonna be real sorry.”

You lean into his shirt, giggling into the cotton. When you lift your head, the two of you quietening again, you look into his eyes.

Blurry around the edges, a little too much wine in your system, you whisper: “Kiss me.”

Joel’s head cocks. He leans in, and you lift your jaw. His lips part, breath hot over your red lips, and he says, “You’re gonna get us into trouble, darlin’.”

“Je m’en fous,” you reply.

“Monsieur,” a voice from your right breaks between you, “your car is outside.”

Joel straightens up, clears his throat, and thanks the waiter with another nod. His palm runs along the bar toward your arm, which he takes, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, and he nods again toward the doors.

----------

Dinner was as fucking extreme as all of this has been. Food you’d never seen before, a menu you could barely translate even with language experience. Waiters who arrived at your table if you so much as looked up at them.

And more wine. A lot more wine.

You both stumble back into the suite, arms linked, laughter chorusing against the beige walls. Joel keeps a vice grip on your hand as you spin around him, wrapping you up in his arms when you’re close enough, and runs a thumb across your cheek when you’ve stopped giggling.

“That was fun,” he says, and you nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For all of it. I don’t even know what to say.”

He shakes his head in response. “You’re my guest.”

“Didn’t have to be,” you say, “could’ve brought Martha.”

“Oh, yeah, Martha. She’d be a fuckin’ hoot.”

He lets go of you, your laughter picking back up, and you split off. Joel wanders over to the minibar, and you…you wander off down the hall.

You’ve something in mind.

Safely in the bedroom, you slink over to your case and lift the bag you’d hidden in there earlier. You sneak into the bathroom, closing the door as softly as possible, and whip your little black dress over your head. You turn back to the mirror.

Same reflection as before. Same naked body. A little faded, a little unfocused, jewelry catching the light like stars in the night sky, but the same.

You reach into the white bag, like it’s a lucky draw, and lift out the soft black lace. One by one, you add each little piece – the bra cups your breasts, lifting them just the right amount. The panties sit on your hips, garter belt just above, hooked onto thigh-high, lace top stockings. And finally, the robe.

You tie it loosely at your waist, leaving it just open enough to reveal the balconette bra underneath. One last hazy look in the mirror, and you tumble back out into the bedroom and over to the door.

Your fingers clutch the gold handle, shaking a little. The cold metal bites against your skin, hot with adrenaline and determination. You twist, pulling gently on the door, and wander back to the living room.

The lights are still out, the room dark against the sparkling cityscape. There’s soft music playing, some seventies soul stuff. He’s on the balcony. The sliding doors open wide, sheer curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. His silhouette stands black against the glittering Eiffel Tower in front of him. He’s holding a whiskey.

You slip out from behind the door and let it close over gently, walking slowly across the soft carpet toward him. He can’t have heard you, you’re being too quiet, but he turns anyway, and spots you in the middle of the room.

His eyes rake down your figure, mouth falling agape. Whiskey almost spilling over from how limp his arms fall.

“Baby…” he whispers.

You take another step forward. So does Joel. Your hand reaches for the back of one of the chairs, tucked neatly under the dining table. You drag it along the carpet, setting it just in front of you, facing him, and stand back.

“Want you to sit.”

Joel nods, a voiceless Okay sneaks past his lips, and he sits back in the chair, placing the whiskey at his feet.

The song fades into a steady love song, string orchestra echoing in the background, slow, sultry. The smooth vocals fill the room, quiet and relaxing, and push you nearer him, rounding the back of the chair.

Your hands run over Joel’s shoulders as you curve around to face him, and slot in between his parted thighs. Watching as his eyes shift up and down your figure. Watching as his breath hitches, his chest shuddering anytime you move.

You’re ignoring the rise and fall of your own chest; nerves and desire and complete fucking disbelief at what you’re doing all fighting to break through. Your stomach is flipping, pulse jerking every time your eyes cross paths with Joel’s.

You nudge his legs open wider, lift his wrists, and place his hands on your waist. His fingers pull on the silk belt, loosening your robe until he’s slipping it over your shoulders, revealing every inch of lace and strap of satin to his lust-blown eyes.

“This all for me?” he asks, fucking…wonderstruck. His fingers dance along the garter belt, dipping where it clips onto your stockings.

You cock your head in a shrug. “You paid for it.”

He smiles. As if it’s Christmas and you just gave him the gift at the top of his wish list. And then you bend your knees, lowering between his thighs and dragging your hands down his front, stopping by his stiffening crotch as you go.

Joel hisses through clenched teeth, spurring you on. You palm him through his trousers, never touching his zipper, only letting him go so far as grinding his hips into your hands, before your palms slip down to his knees and you push yourself up.

Joel meets you halfway, leans forward to let your lips ghost across his. Your back arched, knees digging into the plush carpet, you trail your tongue from his chin down his bearded jawline, stopping when you reach the collar of his shirt.

And then you stand again, taking his hands and replacing them on your body. Anywhere on your fucking body. Feeling him on you is like feeling the soothing flicker of the fire after a walk in the freezing cold, and when his palms aren’t pressing against your ribcage, his fingers aren’t running between your thighs, that bitter cold bites back.

Joel hums, still taking you in through glassy eyes. “So…fuckin’ beautiful, babygirl.”

In response, you lift your knees, placing them one by one on either side of his hips. You settle against his body and push him back in the chair.

Your clothed heat lowers onto his waist, lace running across the rough fabric of his trousers, forcing a choked moan from your lips at the contact. Your skin alight, nerves burning with excitement and arousal, the slightest touch only fuels the fire more.

You grind down on him, hips rocking in time with the music. Letting his hands hold you around your back, letting him feel any part of you he fucking wants. His fingers knead roughly into your round ass, and he bucks up against your core.

You hover over him, running a hand from your stomach over your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits through your bra. And then back down again, to slip over the lace of your panties and relieve the tension there even if only for a second before you’re feeling down your thighs.

You link your arms back around Joel’s shoulders. “You gonna pay me back?” you whisper, head lowering to bury into his neck.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he slurs back.

You suck a mark into the hot skin, breathing against his pulse, “Think you do, daddy. You owe me one.”

His head rolls, bass of his laughter vibrating against your lips. “So fuckin’ slutty, darlin’. You want it that bad?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, lips still tight against his neck, fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt lower and lower.

Joel told Martha he needed you here only to keep him right. Make sure he got everywhere on time, make sure things ran smoothly. Drop off drycleaning, pick it up before he had appearances. Get him pastries from that patisserie he loves around the corner for breakfast. There’s an empty suite downstairs that he made her book for you – an almost three grand per night suite that you both knew the entire fucking time you’d never set foot in. All to keep up with the story.

The story that you’re here strictly on PA duty. Seeing him off in cars, making sure he gets back to the hotel at night. And that’s it. Not buying lingerie with his card, and putting it on for him, and mounting him in the living room of his suite. Not letting him slip your panties to the side and run his cock through your folds, balcony doors wide open, moans escaping out into the late Parisian night.

But now his hands are on you, really on you; strong, wide hands, slipping around your waist, pressing down on the lace of your lingerie, massaging the softest parts of your body and scooping under your ass to align you to his length.

And you’re letting him.

Your hands are sifting through his hair as he breathes you in, his nose buried between your breasts. Your back arches when he finally enters you, giving you what you need most in the form of his thick cock pushing up into your warm cunt.

Like there’s nothing new, or weird, or different. Like this is all you know how to do; all you’ve ever known about him. You’re not in the office; he’s not your boss. He doesn’t tell you to shred files or organize his schedule.

This is what he does. This. He asks things of you with his hands and you fold every time. He runs his lips along the curve of your breasts and peels the delicate fabric of your bra down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, flick his tongue across it until your head rolls back and you’re moaning his name to the ceiling.

“Make yourself cum, baby,” Joel breathes against your hot skin.

His tongue is swirling around your nipple. Teeth grazing the pointed bud. He’s grinning to himself as he does it. He’s fucking lapping this up.

“So pretty when you’re wrapped around me.”

And then his fingers are toying with the clasp of your bra, and as you sink down over and over on his cock, he lets the cupped lace fall to the floor, lips instantly returning to their place on your tits.

You hold his head there, looking down and watching while you slowly bounce on his cock as he kisses, caresses, sucks.

The pleasure boiling between your legs starts to spill over, your body unable to take much more without releasing. And when Joel mumbles against your skin, “Can feel you, darlin’, squeezing me so tight,” you let go.

Your orgasm, nearly four hours in the making, rocks through your body in tidal waves, throwing your head back. Joel’s arms keep you safe on his lap as you writhe, gasping and moaning his name until you can think straight again.

When you come back to, he lifts you up. Carries you like you’re made of diamonds through to the bedroom and lays you down on the soft mattress, calling you angel, telling you you’re the prettiest fuckin’ girl he’s ever seen.

He dips his fingers and traces them along your panties, feeling the mess you just made, humming in amusement. He asks again if this is all for him and when you moan out a desperate Yeah, daddy, he tells you he’s gonna make you cum again.

He takes your waist and flips you over, propping you up on your knees in front of him. He peels the white shirt from his shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the dark room, and asks if that’s what you want – to cum again. Yeah, daddy.

And when he asks who this tight little pussy belongs to, leaning forward to align with your wet mess of a cunt, your thighs spreading to accommodate the size of him, every fucking nerve in your body on fire: You, daddy.

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first.

“Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.”

“Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?”

“No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

Every fucking time. Every mindless, depraved time, you do it for him. Only for him.

You cum again on his cock before he’s even five thrusts in. His words send you hurtling over the edge by themselves; the massive dick burying itself between your legs is just a bonus – and something to let your walls clamp around when your back arches, chest pushes into the mattress, and your orgasm floods over you.

Joel rocks his hips slowly as you come down, cunt swollen and almost agony. His hands run from your thighs up around the globe of your ass, massaging gently. You push back, wanting more pressure from his hands, and his fingers slip against your tight hole.

You jut forward with a moan. A moan Joel knows all too well.

“Easy, easy.” He holds you steady, replacing his fingers against your asshole, pressing delicately. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” you breathe, “mhm.”

“Yeah?”

You’re nodding, though you know he can’t see you in the dark.

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” you choke out. Desperate. Depraved.

He lifts his hand and spits; you feel a bead of saliva dribble down your ass, only to be collected by the pads of his fingertips and dragged back up. Smeared over the ring of your ass, massaged into the sensitive skin around it.

“Daddy…” you moan, hips gyrating.

“’s a good girl,” Joel replies, “just relax, darlin’, you do that for me?”

You can hear in his voice he’s focusing. Eyes glued on your ass, watching as you open up around his first finger, pushing slowly inside.

Your whole body freezes as he enters you. Breath cuts short in your throat. Your mouth falls open, throat constricted around a moan.

“Breathe, babygirl.”

And you do. Well, it’s more of a gasp, a broken whine, and then a long, needy sigh, curled up at the end like it’s a request – a plea for Joel to keep going.

It’s tight. It feels…tender, and overwhelming, and good. More than good. Your hips move backward, pushing onto Joel; a swelling feeling overcoming you, the more of him you take.

“Good girl…” he whispers again.

You’re as fucking shocked as he is that you’re letting him do it – letting him slip inside both holes at once, exploring one while keeping the other content with lazy thrusts.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

“Yeah, daddy,” you tell him, body urging him to fuck you again.

So, he does. His cock picks up speed, finger knuckle-deep, curling around inside your ass. You’re gripping the bedsheets, whimpering softly into them, feeling your stomach tighten as your third orgasm begins to rise.

“Keep – doing – that,” you utter as his hips collide with yours, his thick finger picking up pace ever so slightly.

“Such a dirty girl. So fuckin’ dirty for me. You do this for all of ‘em, baby?”

The laugh you breathe answers his question. No, you don’t fucking do this – for anyone. You didn’t know until five minutes ago this was something you were into. It’s Joel. He’s the only one who could convince you – whether through his words, his expressions, or just his fucking body – to –

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Know you are, pretty girl,” Joel says, “let me feel you. Cum all over me.”

Your body collapses when your high takes over. Electricity thrumming through you, contracting around Joel’s cock and his finger. He coos you through it, whispers words of praise and filth in your ear until you’re no longer screaming, no longer able to hold yourself up.

He slowly removes his finger, soaked with his spit. You whine as it leaves you, missing the feeling, but it’s not long before his hands are on you again, flipping you back over.

He drags the clothes from his legs and pushes you up the mattress, slotting between your hips, one hand coming down to grip the lace front of your panties. He rips it, tearing the material off of your body in one motion.

You gasp, equal parts aroused as you are fucking outraged. You liked those panties. You wanted to keep ‘em.

“Fuck, Joel!”

He pushes back against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to dot kisses along your skin.

“Buy you more, baby.”

“This whole getup,” you moan, “it cost you a grand.”

He lifts his head. “Well, in that case,” he kisses your collarbone, “buy you ten more.”

Your eyes roll back and your head follows, sinking deep into the sheets under your body. You’re sure you know where this is going, what he’s about to ask of you. You’re not sure you can give it to him. Three orgasms deep, you can barely feel when he’s massaging your sex, never mind lining his cock to it and pushing the tip inside.

“One more, angel,” he utters, looking down to guide himself through your glistening folds. “Just one more.”

“Can’t, daddy,” you whimper, but he pushes your thighs up, bending your knees. It’s borderline painful, the stretch you feel when he’s barely an inch inside.

“Yes, you can. Know you can.”

He could fuck you and cum himself without asking you to – and you’d be okay with it. You know it. He knows it. Just a few tight, wet thrusts and he’d be coming undone inside you. But he wants to do it together. Loves the way you feel when you tighten around him, squeeze him, draw his release out of him. Loves the way your voices sound together, the way you grip onto him and pull him flush against your body.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, too. The way he looks when he’s deep inside you, eyes shut, focused on nothing except the pretty noises you make and the sweet way you wrap around him, warm and snug. So you let him take you to the edge again, throw your arms around him, and fall.

Hard.

The shock of it surges through you, stars burst across your vision. You drive your nails into his shoulders, scream out into the night, moans mixed with curses and gasps and – fuck it – cries of daddy loud enough that the thought of a noise complaint at your door floats through your mind.

Joel lets out a deep groan when he cums, filling your tight cunt with his seed, face still buried in your neck. Your legs untense, thighs slip down his waist and onto the bed, your arms unlink from around his neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your skin.

You’re panting, chest lifting against Joel’s. He pushes into the mattress and rolls off of you, dropping in a heap to the bed at your side. You lay like that for a while, waiting for the fluttering feeling to subside, waiting for any feeling to come back to your body.

Joel pushes off of the bed and dips into the bathroom, still groaning anytime he moves. Water runs for a couple minutes, a gentle whirring as he cools his face and washes up, and then he’s back in the bedroom, sinking into the bed beside you.

He props himself up on his elbow and runs a hand across your damp forehead, unsticking your hair from your face. Intimate, vulnerable. You’ve slept together four times now, and this is the closest you’ve felt to him.

You push down an ache, different to the one he just satisfied – four times over. No, this is deeper. Somewhere more hidden. An ache for him to hold you, run his hands down your back until your body feels like yours again. An ache for him to take you in his strong arms and keep you still, keep you steady.

An ache that feels…dangerous. An ache you want to disappear. Now.

“You okay?” Joel asks, and you nod.

He studies you for a while, looking up and down your body, smiling to himself. This isn’t something either of you are going to forget for a while.

“What’s this?”

Joel takes gentle hold of the gold chain around your sweat-glistening neck, running it between his fingers until he’s holding one half of a broken heart.

“Notice you wearin’ it all the time.”

You take a deep breath before replying, watching as he looks at it intently in his hand. “My mom has the other half. It makes up a heart. We got ‘em when I was sixteen, right after…”

Joel’s eyes drift up to yours when your sentence crumbles. His soft gaze encourages you to continue.

“…right after my dad left.”

He almost winces.

You’d always hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays meant Math, and Math meant two hours of sitting in total confusion, dodging your teacher’s requests for answers and counting down the minutes until class ended.

But your dad told you that you should do well in it, so you were trying. For him.

One Wednesday, Miss Pepperman handed out the results of the previous week’s test. You’d scored well, maybe not as good as some of the others, but decent by your own standards. You snuck the test paper into your bag to take back home, show your dad. Make him…proud.

When you rounded the corner to your street, his car was in the drive, trunk wide open. Suitcases inside. You caught him leaving as you wandered by the beat-up Toyota.

Your mom wants you in the house, he’d said, a cardboard box of files in his clutches.

You tried to ask what the fuck was going on, but he’d yelled at you and thrown the box into his back seat. And then you brought up the test paper, twisted around to fish it out of your bag, like some stupid C would convince him to stay. He yelled louder, and you disappeared inside like a spooked cat.

Your mom was on the couch, face in her hands. She lifted her head, cheeks stained with mascara and tears. As you sat down beside her, you heard the engine of his car roll away. You never saw him again.

You don’t tell Joel all of this. He doesn’t need to know, and he doesn’t ask. Telling him about the C in Math risks telling him about the way your dad looked at you when you held up the crumpled paper, and that risks telling him about everything you’ve ever held back from saying to anyone, for fear of seeing that same bored, disappointed expression.

It feels like a hand you’re not quite ready to play just yet. An ace or two missing, only a couple of cards off of feeling confident enough to show him.

Instead, you shrug, and say, “That was…thirteen years ago now. And we just never take ‘em off. It’s like our little promise to, like…stay together, or whatever.”

He nods, letting the necklace rest back on your naked chest.

There’s something in the air between you. Quiet, unassuming. An understanding, though you’re not sure what of. But it feels comfortable, which you weren’t expecting when he asked the question. Nobody knows much about you and your dad – not even your closest friends. And here you are, naked and exhausted, letting the words tumble out to none other than your boss.

But he’s so blasé about it, so unperturbed by it that, if he hadn’t been the one to ask himself, you could mistake it for disinterest. He just listens, nods, and lets it pass over. Lets you drop it, when you’re done talking about it.

For the second time tonight, this time a little more sober but a little less guarded, you say, “Kiss me.”

And this time, he doesn’t ask you to speak French. Doesn’t make any witty quip, doesn’t warn you you’re walking dangerous territory. Doesn’t even hesitate, not for a beat. Just leans in, cups your cheek with one hand, and presses his lips to yours.

Warm, sweaty, almost quivering lips. Soft, and kind, and safe. You melt into him, wrapping both hands around his wrist, shutting your eyes and pretending just for a moment that you’re not teetering along a knife edge right now.

You pull back, losing your balance on the tightrope you’re walking, and Joel’s hand slowly drops from your face. His eyes ask if you’re okay, and you nod. I’m fine. This is fine.

“Alright,” he says, sitting up with a sigh. “You want a drink?”

You nod again. “Water, please.”

He strokes your thigh once and walks out of the room, leaving you in the quiet dark by yourself.

You bring your fingertips up to your eyes. Exhale deeply into the palms of your hands. Think about what just happened, and then tell yourself not to think much about it. Think about that fucking twinge in the bottom of your stomach, the one that felt like…yearning. And then tell yourself, fucking – order yourself not to read too much into it, or you’ll drive yourself up the wall.

Because the truth of it is: you’ve one more full day in Paris, and you highly suspect that what happened here tonight, is gonna happen all over again tomorrow. And that leaves room for that yearning feeling to come back. Resurface, like a silent predator in murky waters.

That won’t happen tomorrow. It can’t happen tomorrow.

You stand and throw that white terrycloth robe over yourself, heading for the living room.

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taglist:

@serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @noisynightmarepoetry @@isimpforfictionalmen @lizzie-cakes @sarahhxx03 @tobuildahomeinthewoods @kittenlittle24 @suzmagine @adaslittleblog @bbyanarchist @whatsliferightnow @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @totallynotastanacc @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #softdom!joel miller #softdom!joel #sugardaddy!joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #fluff #smut #angst #sex on fire

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 6

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️ explicit 18+ ⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, oral fem!receiving, borderline degradation, orgasm dinial, bondage (hands being bound), blatant Billy x Stu stuff

Part 1

Stu pressed his face into Billy's shoulder running from the sunlight. "It's too early." He whined pulling his friend closer to him. Billy held him for a moment forgetting where they were. "Shit, where is she?" He pushed Stu away pulling the covers off himself. Stu dragged a pillow over his head hoping to drown out the light. Billy got out of bed heading down the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of food filled the air hitting him the moment he left your room.

"Morning sleepy head. How do you like your eggs?" You smiled at his current state. His hair was messy and his eyes were dark with sleep. "Uh over medium?" 'This couldn't be real' he thought to himself. It was all adding up now the house, the absent parents, you, it wasn't real. Some really realistic and very long dream. Maybe he was in a coma? If you were real you'd be almost as fucked up as him.

"Did you know you snore just a tiny bit?" You asked as you flipped his eggs. "I don't snore. Must've been Stu." He took a drink of the prefilled glass of orange juice in front of him. "It was definitely you. I kept waking up with your face in my neck and your snores were really loud next to my ear." Was that embarrassment he was feeling? "Sorry about that." He paused thinking of his next words. "So you're not mad that we slept in bed with you?" Bacon, eggs, and a perfect pancake laid next to each other on the plate. You nodded thinking that would be enough.

"I told you if it got too cold you could climb in bed with me." You sat his plate down making sure to leave him syrup. "Can I have a second plate? I don't like my eggs to touch my other food." You raised your eyebrows with a nod. "Sure thing." You handed him a saucer plate that came with the set. "How much do you remember last night?" You remembered all of it. The little tired act you pulled was a sham. A test is what you'd call it. Luckily they passed. "Listen Billy, I don't care about whatever's going on between you and Stu. This doesn't change anything." Billy could laugh. "You think I'm a homo?" His face was plastered with a sort of dumbfounded expression. "No, I just think you're Billy."

"I'm not like that. Stu's always been the one to bat for both teams." You pursed your lips with a nod. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to lie or hide. We've all got secrets and I'm not going to judge you in the slightest." You were wrong. But Billy focused on the underlining meaning of all you said. "What if I told you I was psychotic?" Billy asked no sign of a joke. "I'd tell you I was too." He bit off a piece of bacon. "And what if I said I was a stalker?" You laughed. "Me too. When I walk by a classroom I know you or Stu's in I look for you both just to watch you for a second, that's stalker behavior."

Billy almost choked on his food. God you really were innocent. "What's so funny?" You said laughing along side him. "Okay... What if... I said I've murdered people." You frowned. Does he really think he's that bad? "You're not a murderer." You said as you poured syrup on your pancake. "I know, but if I was what would you say?" You actually thought about it. Four days you've known him now, that's not enough to constitute a prison sentence for harboring a fugitive. "There's a reason for everything. I'd ask you why you did it."

"There's not always a reason, a "motive." I mean did Norman Bates have a motive? Did they ever really decide why Hannibal Lector liked to eat people?" The food in your mouth didn't seem as good as before. "Your logic is flawed Billy. Norman killed his mother because she was abusive and neglectful when was a child. That's motive. He murdered every woman he found attractive because his Mother's personality would be jealous and she needed Norman all to herself. Motive. And he murdered that cop because he didn't want to be caught. Once again motive." Billy sat wide eyes staring at you.

"Oh and Hannibal Lector was also abused as a child. In the book it says his sister was killed by some men who had taken Hannibal and his sister captive. They murdered his sister in front of him and then cooked her eventually serving pieces of her to Hannibal. You could look at it like a revenge plot that's motive or later on he shows obvious signs of narcissism. He thinks he is above everyone so eating them really isn't a problem. We eat animals because we think our lives mean more right?" Billy just nodded.

"Okay so if Hannibal thinks he is better and his life means more than everyone around him then is it really even cannibalism to him? He's completely detached so that's also motive. He's simply hunting his next meal like we would a pig or a cow." You took a drink of your orange juice waiting for a response. Billy was speechless. "You're not the only one who knows stuff Billy." You spoke finishing off your food. "I'm beginning to realize that."

Stu finally came downstairs and he finished up everything that was left over from your talk with Billy. "Do you always cook like this?" Stu asked wiping his mouth with a napkin. You washed dishes as the boys sat at the table. "When my dad is home I do. I don't really need to fix a whole meal if I'm the only one here." That made Stu think of what it was like for you here all alone. He hated being home alone it was like he was 10 years old and scared of the dark. Every little noise would make him paranoid. It wasn't until Billy moved in that he felt safe. Maybe you just needed someone to make you feel safe?

Stu had pulled out the deck of cards begging you and Stu to play rummy with him. That was an hour ago. "She is kicking our asses." Stu said as you shuffled the cards again. "Ooh okay I've got a question. Do guys try to create fake scenarios before they go to bed?" Both boys looked confused as you dealt the cards. "Like girls, before we go to bed we'll think of our crush or an actor and we'll plan out our own little movie in our head." You grew uncomfortable with the fear you sounded insane. "I've fantasized about things before bed." Stu said and Billy nodded in agreement.

"No that's not the same thing. Like you and Tatum. Do you plan little dates and stuff like that in your head?" Stu made a "pfft" noise looking at Billy who was smiling. "He's never taken her on a date. They just run around together." Your jaw dropped. "I have got to tell her to raise her standards." Stu sat down his cards interested in the conversation. "Okay Ms. Crocker what are you standards? I'm guessing you're very Catholic." He laughed and you made a face at him.

"First of all the guy I'm with has to take me out every once in awhile. Bring me flowers, write me notes, anything really to show he still cares." Billy didn't believe that. You might want that in some romanticized version of them but you knew that it wasn't realistic. "I've known you for almost a week and I can already tell you fall in love with anyone who gives you 5 seconds of attention."

You acted shocked at the incredibly correct description of you. "Whatever. Can't a girl want someone to take her out and show her off? I'm a prize and I will be treated as such." Billy finished of his drink sitting the glass down with a click. "Until the first guy that comes along says he liked your outfit and then you're ready for marriage." You really couldn't argue with that. "Yeah pretty much."

"I'm bored. Winning time after time does get a little old." You said putting down your cards. "We could play truth or dare." Billy looked between you and Stu deciding to do whatever you wanted to do. Truth or dare was a kids game. One you were skilled at playing. "I'm game unless Billy's chicken." You elbowed him playfully. "I never say no to a game."

You and the boys moved to the living room floor. Stu laid on his stomach, his chin resting on his palms. Billy however was sat criss cross his posture straight and on edge. "You go first since it's your house." Stu suggested. "Um okay. Stu, truth or dare?" He kicked his feet in thought. "Dare." You hated thinking of dares it was the hardest part of the game.

"I dare you to put on lipstick." Billy breathed out a laugh. "Do I get to pick the color?" Stu asked not at all phased by the dare. "Sure let me go grab my makeup bag. You jumped up running to your bathroom. Just as fast you ran back to the living room. "I've got pink, red, maroon, black, and orange."

"I'm about to waste my turn on making you wear the black." Billy said, surprised you owned such a color. "I went through a phase." You laughed as Stu grabbed the red. You gave him the compact you brought in letting him slowly smear on the waxy pigment. "How do I look?" He flipped his imaginary long hair. "Actually you pull it off." You said staring at his lips for a little too long. "Billy, truth or dare?"

Billy looked at Stu not ready for him to pick a dare. "Truth." You once again saw a silent conversation playing across their eyes. "Have you ever made a sex tape?" Stu said looking his friend up and down. "I knew you'd eventually bring up sex." You huffed with a laugh. "I have not. I'm more of a picture man myself." Billy locked eyes with you making your cheeks grow hot. "Truth or dare Y/n?" You didn't feel at ease by picking either of those. Go big or go home was what your grandparents always said.

"Dare." Stu proceeded to make the "ooh" sound as if someone just got into trouble. "I dare you to play the rest of this game with your hands tied." If your face wasn't hot before it was burning now. "Now that's a dare baby!" Stu shouted kicking his feet like a school girl. You looked around the room for something to get the job done. You grabbed a scarf sitting on the end table by the couch. "Which one of you knows how to tie a knot?" Both boys volunteered but Billy was the one to actually do it. "Don't rip it, it's vintage." Billy rolled his eyes roughly tugging your arms towards him. His quickness in wrapping your wrists was making you wonder how many times he's done this before.

"There you are." He marveled at his work for a moment. You pulled back resting your bound hands in your lap. "My turn!" You cheered. "Wait, you're not going to try to get out of it? See if the knot is good?" Billy expected you to pull at the knot with your teeth just to show him you could. Thinking back to the little race you had at the mall you seemed like the type to try to show people up. That was one thing about you he didn't care for. "No? You told me to keep my hands tied for the rest of the game."

You saw his pupils dilate just a little. It was like catching lighting in a bottle to you. Billy liked the fact you mindlessly followed orders. You were a smart girl but you were dumb for him. "Truth or dare?" You asked Stu ready to continue the game. "Um... Hmm... Let me think?" His sarcasm made you bite your lip to stop from smiling. "Dare." You had one in mind already and it was hazardous. If this didn't go as planned it wouldn't be good for anyone in the room. On the flip side of that if this went how you were sure it would you three would be great friends from here on out.

"I dare you to sit on Billy's lap for the next round." Stu snapped his neck turning to Billy but the brooding boy kept his eyes on you. Billy wanted to know your angle. The reason you did things. You said it yourself everyone has a reason for doing something. What was yours? "Is that alright man?" Stu asked and Billy nodded with a huff. "Just get over here." Stu didn't need to be told twice. He mouthed a quick "thank you" making you smile. You saw Billy's eyes shut in what could be perceived as pain as Stu wiggled around trying to get comfortable. "Stop. Moving." Billy placed his hand on Stu's thigh keeping him still.

"It's my turn right?" Billy asked while he leaned back, one arm propping him up off the ground. "Sure is." Stu quipped. "Truth or dare?" At this point you'd look like a chicken if you said truth. "Dare." Billy's tongue swiped over his teeth before he spoke. "I want you and Stu-y here to make out." He smacked his friends back borderline hurting him. You didn't plan for that and by the looks of it neither did Stu. "I can't leave your lap remember?" The boy on his lap spoke. "You don't have to, she can crawl over." He spoke matter of factly. "I don't remember being dared anything." You challenged. "You said you wanted us to make out. That might say something about you but it's not a dare."

"You're a smartass." He spit playfully. "I dare you and Stu to make out. Is that better sweetheart?" Billy spoke the last word with a condescending tone. Which given the context, you'd pay to hear it again. "Perfect." You crawled over to the boys sitting back on the heels of your feet. Stu leaned down whispering an affirmation. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to." You weren't sure if the sudden sweet nature was because of where he was sitting or if it's always been there and you just haven't noticed.

A silent nod was all he needed to press his lips against yours. Stu was scared to move. He had that feeling you only get when you're about to drop off the highest spot on a rollercoaster. He wasn't quite sure where to go from here. You moved your lips against his showing him you were okay. Gently his hand cupped your jaw the same way he did with Tatum the other night. This wasn't commanding however he was simply holding you in the best way he could. Billy grunted as Stu's hips began to move again subconsciously.

The polite kisses became hungry as he pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth. A soft moan could be heard coming from you. Billy had seen enough. He grabbed his friends shoulders pulling him back. You caught your breath as you looked at the ground. Stu's face was bright crimson in embarrassment but Billy couldn't ignore the love drunk expression on his partners face. You were done playing truth or dare. "Can you untie me?" You held out your hands towards Billy trying to ignore the obvious tent in his pants. Slowly he made his way over to you crawling like a predator stalking it's prey.

"No, the dare was you had to keep them tied till the end of the game." You shook your head with an awkward laugh. "Well truth or dare is over." His face was a breath away from yours. "You're right but our game isn't over." Stu watched as Billy pressed his lips onto yours. You picked up right where you left off with Stu. In a way the short haired boy felt cheated on. He felt he went through a whole relationship with you in that one little kiss and now he watched his best friend take what was never his to begin with.

Billy hovered over you as he laid you back against the floor. Pulling his lips away he noticed how every single person here had rid lipstick smeared along thier face. "Stu come here, I need your help." You turned your head watching your friend fumble over towards the both of you. "Keep her busy like you were earlier. Can you do that for me baby?" Billy asked as his hand held Stu's chin. He nodded earning a gentle tap on the cheek from his friend. "Good boy." You watched their whole dynamic change right in front of you. Suddenly all Billy had was pet names and Stu was practically silent.

Stu was waiting for something but he wasn't sure what. "Please..." You whispered pushing him a step further. He leaned his head down kissing your neck. Softly at first leaving a small trail of kisses across your collarbones. Then he began licking and sucking at the skin trying not to leave a mark. Small sounds fought their way up your throat presenting themself like a gift from God to Stu. You really didn't care where Billy went as long as Stu continued what he was doing.

He nibbled at your earlobe forcing you to rub your thighs together. You barley felt your shorts being slipped down your legs. Little kisses began at your ankles slowly trailing up your legs. The higher they got the sloppier they became. "You're not even trying to win the game." Billy shook his head expecting more from you. "What.. are the rules?" You moaned out Stu now marking up your chest. With a laugh Billy said, "You know I hadn't even thought about that." God he was a prick and you were a horrible person for thinking it made him hotter.

Stu lifted your top pulling it above your breasts. "You're so pretty..." He said without thought. Somehow that word meant more than all the other words in that moment. "You're not too bad yourself handsome." He looked at the floor with a big grin on his face. With a quick shake of his head he went back to work. Your tied up hands played with his hair as he swirled his tounge around your hot skin. Billy ran a finger up the middle of your panties, the unexpected feeling making your hips jolt. "Guess foreplay really does work." Your head tossed back with a suffocated moan as Stu tugged gently at your nipples. One being teased by his teeth just to be soothed by his tounge seconds later.

Billy squatted next to Stu just watching your face contort in pleasure. "If you weren't such a prude I could totally see you as one of those Victoria's Secret models." He spoke running his hand along your cheek. Billy grabbed the back of Stu's shirt peeling him off of you to your dissatisfaction. "Why don't you show her your hidden talent hmm?" The sinister smile on Stu face made your stomach twist and pussy throb. Billy stayed next to you watching as Stu pulled off your panties. "Toss em'." Billy spoke catching the underwear after his friend pitched them. He waved the damp fabric above you. "How important are these to you?" Stu began kissing and biting your thighs not leaving much room for you to talk. "You can have them!" You blurted as your hands tugged at Stu's hair. "That's sweet of you. I was going to take them anyways but thanks for the permission."

Stu ran his long tongue up your folds making the world stop for a second. His hands pulled your thighs further apart giving him more room to work. "His tongue is by far one of my favorite things about him." Billy's finger traced your throat slowly making his way to your breasts. He pinched your nipple between his fingers making your back arch up off the ground. "Fuck!" You cried and Billy smiled. Your grip on Stu's hair became almost painful but he couldn't care less.

Your thighs wrapped around his face as you crossed your ankles on his back. "Don't kill him, I need him for this next part." Billy laughed. His thumb pulled at your lip debating on where all this should go. "Stu! Babe, please! Don't stop. Seriously don't fucking move just keep doing that." Your fear of that building pleasure disappearing was recognized by everyone in the room. "Stu stop." Billy commanded and you gave him a crazed look. "Please don't I'm begging you." Stu's eyes looked up between the both of you not sure who to obey. "Baby I mean it. Stop." The pressure was gone and so was any sort of happiness. "I'm going to kill you." You spat at the men.

"You're really scary." Billy scoffed waving at Stu to come over to him. Without any sort of warning to either you or Stu, Billy pressed his lips against the boy's. Billy's tongue swirled around tasting you secondhand. Your brain was fried. You were not longer mad but you were sure to explode. A knock came at the front door scaring the shit out of you and Stu. "Oh for fuck's sake." Billy groaned pushing his friend back.

"Y/n?" At that voice Billy's face grew pale. "Stu help her with her clothes now." You wanted to cry. "Why the fuck are they here?" Stu whispered everyone panicking at the same time. "Please open up!" Sydney called out as Tatum continued banging on the door. Once you had your clothes on the two boys ran towards the stairs. "Shit my hands you idiots!" You whisper yelled making Billy run to you quickly untying the knots. "You've got lipstick all over you." Billy said smiling at the markings. "God damnit!" You ran upstairs grabbing a makeup wipe off your desk. You frantically rubbed your neck running back downstairs. "Here." Billy said snatching the wipe from you. He wiped the color from your face making sure to get most of it off your chest. "Better?" You asked. "It's gone." With a smack on your ass, Billy ran up to your room following Stu. You reeked of sex and you looked like it too.

"Coming!" You yelled running around trying to find something to spray the air with. Air freshener filled the room and thankfully covered you. Quickly you fixed your hair and opened the door. "Yeah?" Tatum pushed past you walking into the living room where a horrible display of debauchery had just occurred. "Okay." You said as Sydney followed her friend. "The killer called me last night." Sydney said on the brink of tears. "He's a fucking psychopath. He told her he'd kill her like he killed her mother." Tatum said, quickly apologizing to Sydney for the graphic rehash.

Billy and Stu stood there completely taken aback. "I thought you said you had to plan around this!" Stu snapped. "We did- we do! Why would you call Syd last night? Are you that fucking dumb?" Billy poked Stu understandably pissed about being blindsided by his best friend. "I went to sleep last night unlike you. Don't blame this shit on me because it backfired." They argued back and forth while you talked to the girls downstairs. "Okay so what do we do?" You asked hoping for a good answer. "You could stay at my place till this bastard's caught. My mom doesn't want you staying here by yourself."

You sat your head in your hands ready to cry. You didn't know what to do or who to trust. "I couldn't intrude like that." You said as Sydney sat down next to you on the couch. More so you didn't know what to do with the two men stashed in your bedroom. "That's crazy. We'd rather have you intrude than be murdered." Sydney said resting her hand on your knee. Tatum just nodded. "We're not taking no for an answer." The blonde said.

"I'll meet you all over at your place. I've got some stuff to do before I go." You shouted down the stairs hearing the front door close behind them. "What's going on?" Billy played dumb. "There's a serial killer running around that's what. You two need to get home and stay safe." You grabbed a bag from your closet packing clothes. "Where are you going?" Stu asked a little sad at the outcome of today. "I'm going to Tatum's place for a bit." Billy and Stu just stood there watching you angrily pack away your things. This was their fault. You were scared because of them. It genuinely made them both feel like shit.

"There's a spare key under the rock in the flower pot outside. Get your car and make sure to lock the place up when you leave." You didn't mean to be short with them or make them think you were mad. You enjoyed your time with them but you realized after they ran off and hid that this wasn't real. You had romanticized another situation that would never in a million years be real.

Part 7

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @blkroyalty1 @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @knifes0ldier @nicciekawegosblog

(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

#billy loomis #ghostface #scream #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #scream 1996 #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #scream x reader #ghostface x female reader #stu ghostface #billy loomis ghostface #billy loomis masterlist #stu macher fluff #stu macher x reader #stu macher

[undercoverpena]

stockings and stars

javier peña x f!reader

summary: Still need the star putting on the top of the tree. ive got other plans for you Because I’m the star? yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

from the late night texts world - but can still be enjoyed on its own. chapter warnings: allusion to/mentions of smut. no actual smut. javi undresses you, though. flirting. fluff. reader wears red lingerie and a dressing gown. javi flirting. sexy talk, romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 3k

an: to @goodwithcheese merry christmas from me, to you. thank you for everything, for the tuesday fun we have - i wanted nothing more than to have this out sooner, but life, you know? but, i adore you. and I'm so glad we found one another. ahuge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who cheerleaded for me throughout.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Will I be seeing Santa Javi today? I want to decorate my tree.

one time I come to yours in a red shirt

You also had the tree under your arm and a bag of baubles, I’d class those as gifts.

keep talking baby and you can decorate your tree alone

Think I’m gonna wear that shirt you left here while I do it. Make sure I have to get up on my tip toes. Hope it doesn't rise up...

you don’t play fair

I think I’ll be in stockings too…

youre killing me

Maybe they’re white and red, and…

baby if i wasn’t putting this thing up for Pop, i’d be driving over right now

Hope you hurry up, I need someone tall to put the star on top of the tree.

how am I gonna eat you out when youre perched on the tree baby

The last thing on his to-do list from his Pop is to hang the front porch garland.

He had learnt there had been a huge difference in the front and the back porch garlands. A fifteen-minute-long difference when he'd timed the response given to his sarcastic answer.

Javi learnt there was not only one for the back porch and the front, but one which sat across the fireplace and one on the staircase.

He learnt that after he'd made a joke about mixing them up—earning himself a very pointed glare, and the task of the front porch.

Now, it’s a battle he’s losing.

Tremendously so.

While he’d never want his Pop to do the more challenging tasks, he did rather hate he hadn’t thought to trade this one in for the back porch at the very least—because that had looked fucking easy.

Holding the garland in hand, he’s suddenly hit with a second wave of nostalgia, the first having arrived when he'd pulled down the box and peered into it.

It did the same thing as it had done then, all but rushed over him, layering itself on his shoulders, sitting, nothing short of a comfortable weight on him. Letting his gaze fall out over it, he smiles at the tuffs of fabric, all the bows tied by hand, all in an array of sizes and shades.

Over time, he can see how they've become sun-dyed, remembering the first year they'd been sewn into the faux greenery by his mamá, memories of her all hunched over, humming carols.

Smiling, he rolls his lips, letting out a heavier sigh than he intended as he drags it to the post he’d begin at.

But, all he wonders is whether in the years he wasn’t here, whether it was occasionally hung—or if this year is just that special.

The mere hint that he was going to ask if you wished to spend Christmas at the ranch had sent his Pop into overdrive. Practically yanked him out of his chair like he’d been electrified, a bunch of orders being flung from under his white, wiry moustache that they needed to get ready.

He wasn't sure he'd get the image of his Pop suddenly scrambling around like a man half his age, to drag the decorations out from the cupboard, would ever be erased from his mind. Least of all the sound you'd made aww'ing down the phone when he'd given you a condensed version of the story.

Because he hasn't asked you yet, not properly.

Even though he's spent the last two days at the back of barns and spending a ridiculous amount of time at the hardware store—because we need to make sure the lights stay up, Jav.

He just hasn't found the right time to ask you. A promise each time he goes to see you left in the air. Not that his Pop remembers that, instead he's just busy thinking up ways to make it special: one of which includes decorating the trees at the entrance to the ranch.

An idea having sprouted with the newest ranch hand—one which, if Javi overheard correctly, involves rope acting like tinsel and a cowboy hat being the star on the top of the trees.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he temporarily ignores it as he begins to weave the beginning of the garland around the wood—already knowing, before he tries to move it around the spindles, that it isn’t going to be easy.

Because nothing ever fucking is.

Least of all when you’re waiting for him.

His mind begins to concoct images of you in bows and sheer material, lips painted, sat waiting, smelling nothing short of heavenly as you call out for—

“Fuck,” he shouts, dropping the garland to the ground.

It had pricked him, stabbed him right in the skin—hand shaking the pain out, face likely all scrunched. And, if it didn't have sentimental value, he's sure he'd have kicked its protesting ass with everything he had. Instead, he just narrows his eyes more than he had done moments ago as he begins again.

He feels his nostrils flare when it begins to undo itself. The sound of faux bristles on wood grates him before it will even attempt to do what he needs it to.

And it makes him want to quit, to throw it back into the box and tell his Pop it isn’t worth it. But he knows it is. Knows that his mama didn’t spend hours bent over under flickering light for it not to be seen.

Javi also strongly suspects you’d love it. Likely run your fingers over several bows asking who made it. He can even imagine the look of joy on your face when he tells you.

It’s why, if he didn’t already suspect it anyway, he’s pretty sure his Pop loves you more than him. Because even the first Christmas he was back, there weren’t this many decorations; not nearly as much need to have them all out, either.

Not that Javi really minds—or blames him.

There’s a notable shift in energy when you stay over. Even more so in him. He can see there’s a cheer and a glow to the place—one Javi hates watching vanish when he takes you back to your place.

It's why, when—and where—he can, he fights for you to be here. Practically finds convincing ways to do so, including, crossword puzzles, dinner, and two-person showers. But, at some stage, your clothing dwindles, underwear runs low, and he has to make the painful drive into town to return you to your place.

Your fingers in his hair, practically clambered into his lap as you whisper that you’ll be back before he knows it. His fingers on your chin, thumb stroking out the words he says right back—that he’ll miss you all the same.

Javier Peña. Texan softie—what will the world think?

He only thinks one thing when he drives back—a response which had been there on his lips. Guess they’ll see just how much I love you. A thing you know, comment on, say back to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. An array of promises there, sometimes spoken at a normal level and sometimes whispered.

You always keep them, just like the one that you are always back before he knows it.

He likes it when you are. Enjoys it when you’re nestled beside him, arm across his chest, hand close to his ribs—strumming them, tracing lines and words he tries to understand before sleep takes him.

He still always sleeps better when you’re beside him. When his breathing can mirror yours, when he can feel for you in the night when he’s awoken with nightmares and things he knows won’t ever come true.

Now, he’s fighting a different battle. One to get to you.

Halted in his path to freedom by the garland which refused to be hung, and could be labelled as giving him more grief than the horses which had banded together. A phrase he never thought he’d admit out loud, never mind think.

You still fighting with the garland?

baby its torturing me on purpose

Do you want me to come and help?

will you come in the stockings

No!! Your dad is there.

then stay there actually lie down, but do not begin without me

Still need the star putting on the top of the tree.

ive got other plans for you

Because I’m the star?

yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

Hurry then.

i’m hurrying

He does hurry—practically scratched up by the time he’s parking his truck outside your place.

As he takes the step up to your door, Javi realises how much he misses it here when he doesn’t visit. A place less frequent and often spent time in, even under your insistence of renting it.

It is always usually a stopping point, him parking up, letting you go in and grab what you need before you're back in his truck, heading back to his.

He does like your place though, likes how small it is, how cosy. Plus, it has all the things which make you, you. A thing his place is currently missing.

Although, as he steps through the door, and calls your name, he does have to admit it currently looks fucking ridiculous.

On a good day, he’d describe your place as crowded, but right now, it’s claustrophobic.

The tree you’d forced him to get is shoved into a corner, branches fluffed out, surrounded by the piles of unpacked boxes you’ve tried to discreetly hide. Your remaining floorspace is overtaken by a bit of rug, several piles of books (you have no room for, but continue to buy) and odd bits of furniture you find and attempt to restore.

For the most part, you’ve decorated. A thing you did inform him of.

You’ll be pleased to know when you get here your only job is the star. managed it all yourself, did you I’m a very competent woman, Javi. oh i know baby ive seen you with a crossword Does that do it for you? Me finishing a crossword. does something to me Get over here. im leaving now

There’s a warm, comforting glow spread out across the place from the fairy lights you’ve hung and the array of mismatched decorations—both bought and handmade—hanging from branches.

He breathes in the scent of orange which hangs in the air, his eyes finding the culprit on your fireplace, a garland—one not dissimilar to the one he’d been battled with—places there, mocking him due to the ease of which had been laid, with oranges and little beads all entwined within it.

Snorting, he glances back at your tree, spotting the things he's been with you when you've bought. And, as promised—and informed him through text—there’s nothing at the top of your tree.

“You finally made it!”

Spinning on his heel, he comes face to face with you, and fuck if the sight of you doesn’t make it all worth it.

Dressed in a red, silky dressing gown, all tied in the middle, you're a vision. Then, there's the fact your lips are painted a shade he’d now famously dub Christmas red, a colour he wants nothing more than to be stained with. A path of it from his mouth down to the space where his jeans meet his hips. A thought which seems to only make how tight his jeans are even more uncomfortable.

“Cariño, you’re…”

You sway a little, letting the fabric move—allowing his gaze to land on the stockings. The ones he’s been thinking about all afternoon. The ones he can’t wait to feel under his palm and know whether they’ll create friction when wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m kinda banking on it,” you say, biting your red-painted lip. “But first…”

His hand crawls around your waist, feeling the smooth, soft texture under his hand—swallowing, dragging his eyes up and down you, unsure how he could ever be so lucky—how something so good could ever be here for him to unwrap.

“I need you to hang the star,” you continue.

“Right now?”

Nodding, you ghost your lips over his. “I’ve been so good waiting for you.”

“You're never good. You, baby, are a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

Snorting, he presses a kiss to your lips. “Damn right, you are.”

Moving from you, reluctantly, only to pick up the gold star he assumes you want to hang, getting a nod from you that he’s right.

“Need to ask you something too.”

And even though he’s only taken a mere short step from you, he’s floored all over again about what a picture you look like when he glances back. That you’re standing all for him, dressed in nothing but cheer and ribbons all for him.

“Go on.”

Turning to your tree, he flattens his hand to the wall for stability. “I wanted…”

His concentration slides in—suddenly aware he doesn’t want to knock anything from the branches. Doesn’t want to force things to be misplaced from where they were expertly hung.

He’s also sure he’s wanting to swallow the question. A part of him, all the way deep inside of him, having been bracing—and waiting—to hear you’d be apart for the holidays. A thing the two of you have rarely been since you moved here, not a day going by he hasn’t seen you for at least an hour.

“Wanted to know if you—shit—” the star almost sitting atop, before at the last minute protesting. “I wanted to know if you wanted to spend Christmas with me—with us, me and Pop. At the ranch.”

The star slides into place, sitting more comfortably with another shove, more branch supporting it.

But he doesn’t turn, not immediately. Not as the question hums around him, swirls in the silence of you not immediately saying yes. So much so, that it takes him a second to move on his heels, to face you—to read the answer before it’s delivered.

What he sees is something his heart couldn’t have ever prepared for.

You, grinning—a silly, almost goofy, smile spreading out as you bite down on your lip, forehead slightly crinkled.

“You… you want me to spend the holidays with you?”

“Of course—cariño, I want nothing more than for you to be with me.”

It all quick to leave his mouth, mirroring the movement to be back in front of you, fingers under your chin, lifting your eyes—those beautiful, fucking eyes—to his.

“Do… do you—wanna spend it with me?”

You pull a different face before you’re nodding. One more excited, one which begins to expel out over a smile and a bunch of escaping phrases such as I can’t believe you want me with you and of course.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose—an act he finds just as cute as the first time he saw it. “Guess it’s a big deal. It’s… a thing people do with families.”

Pulling you close by your hips, your hand lands flat on his chest. “You are my family.”

“Javi,” you whisper, making each letter feel so individual the way you say it, that it makes his heart double.

“It’s true. You’re it for me, cariño. All I’ve wished for.”

Eyes widening, your eyes shimmer under the lights—more so than normal. Taking a deep breath, you lift your chin before pressing a kiss to his mouth. One which turns hungry, desperate—your mouth searing, a thing he’s craved since he woke up before the sun even rose.

“Baby,” you whisper.

And he hums.

It vibrates out, able to feel it from the way his fingers cup your cheek.

“Undo me.”

Releasing your lips with a pop, he opens his eyes, studying your eyes, moving from one to the other.

“Go on,” you urge in a whisper, more breathless, more tinged with something that makes his skin hot.

Sliding his fingers over the knot, he barely has to tug before it comes undone—unveiling you, like a curtain which wishes to part. If he’d thought you’d looked good before, he’s sure every bit of you is a sin now—a Christmas sin.

Red and lace. It’s all he sees. It sitting there, against you, hugging your breasts—sitting on your hips. His mouth is suddenly dry at the thought of running his tongue over the place it meets your skin before pulling it down.

Your fingers follow his eyes, sliding between the valley to land on the bow in the centre, twisting the edge of the tie around your index finger—palm skating over your stomach, allowing him more chance to take in how you’re stood before him in see-through fabric and promises.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he asks, more to no one, than to you.

His fingers teasing the fabric sat on your hip—marvelling, unsure how to think straight until you clear your throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, tightening your hold on his hands, bringing his arms more around your waist, pressing your front to him, feeling the heat from your skin through your clothes. “You’re all I wished for too.”

Smiling, he looks at your tree, before landing back on you. “You look so good.”

“I know. Could look better though?” His brow arches as you slowly begin to smile, the tip of your tongue sliding over your upper lip. “Everything is held in place by bows.”

Groaning, he closes his eyes, letting his hand slide down your lower back, over sheer material before his fingers find the ribbon on your hip.

“All for you.”

“Mine,” he answers, slotting his mouth over yours—staining the four letters to your lips.

His fingers slide around, brushing over soft skin, until he finds the first bow. Undoing it with ease, licking into your mouth, only to grunt against you when you whimper as the fabric falls to your feet.

“Yours,” you say back, your own hands beginning to undo him.

an: merry christmas, love you

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 10

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

it's ya girl, back again...! 😼

hello, hi, how are you all? :) hope you are doing well! i'm feeling a lot better, i'm just congested now fml </3

this chapter is shorter, but not too short. as in it's not as long as the previous ones - they were like 6,000 words+, this is only 4,000-5,000 i think. The main reason is because it didn't really make sense to me to have it longer. so i hope you guys enjoy it!

thank you for all the likes, reblogs and most importantly the replies you left on the last chapter, they had me fucking dying oh my lord. 😭 you guys are so funny honestly. please keep leaving stuff like that it truly makes me laugh and makes my day 🌟🩷

Also guys what the fuck since when could you attach songs????? IM ABOUT TO GO BACK AND ADD SOME ON THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS BECAUSE WHATTT MIND BLOWN

without further ado......

You trailed behind McGonagall and Snape, keeping your eyes glued to the floor in front of you as your body was still on fire from your encounter with Severus.

"How on Earth did Black manage to slip into the castle?" Snape hissed, briefly looking at McGonagall who was striding beside him, her brows laced together with worry. A shiver slid down your spine as Snape's stern voice bounced off of the stone corridor, creating a rather dramatic echo. Only moments ago were you about to kiss the man, totally disregarding the fact that you were seeing Ben. What a fucking mess.

Then again, you thought, how could anyone not get lost in his eyes? Gods, you were such a pathetic excuse for a woman as of right now.

Severus's eyes were distracting, almost magnetic-like, as they beckoned you to look further within them, silently persuading you to forget about anything and everything that mattered to you. You were sure he didn't intend to do such a thing, or maybe that's what you were telling yourself, but in that intimate moment with him, you couldn't help but feel inclined to kiss him. Whether it was the heat of the moment or not, you were sure he wanted to kiss you too.

"We're not sure," McGonagall replied, sighing in a distressed manner as she ripped you from your self-destructive thoughts. "Even Albus is baffled as to how he eluded our defences." You flicked your eyes up to glance at Minerva. You sort of felt like you shouldn't be here, it's not like you'd be much help if Black appeared in front of you right this second - your knowledge and skill in combat was nowhere near the level of McGonagall and Snape, you were certain that you'd probably be a burden. The thought of slipping away down a corridor poked at your brain, taunting you.

"Y/N?" Minerva's worrisome voice once again pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up, face flushing as you met Severus's curious eyes. Quickly glancing away, you focused your attention on the Gryffindor Head of House, afraid of the outcome if you stared any longer at him.

"Yes?" You cleared your throat, ignoring the way Severus was side-eyeing you from behind Minerva.

"Would you mind going to check the greenhouses?" She asked. Severus snapped his head at Minerva, clearly in disagreement with her proposal. You frowned slightly at his quick reaction, a tad offended.

"Minerva, I don't think that's a wise idea." Severus said rather sternly, glancing at you for a brief moment. Your face felt hot again.

"Y/N is more than capable of handling herself, Severus." Minerva replied, matching his stern tone. Severus's jaw ticked as he huffed quietly, looking away from the the older witch, silently feuding with her decision. She turned to you and offered a reassuring smile. You appreciated the faith that she had in you, but you weren't sure it was... correctly placed, to put it lightly. You pursed your lips, slightly awkward, stuck between staring at Severus's doubtful eyes and Minerva's confident ones. As you met Snape's eyes, he looked away, his brows furrowing. Your stomach somersaulted, but you weren't sure it was in the positive way you wanted. "Severus, check the dungeons." Minerva ordered, and he obliged with a curt nod, leaving almost immediately without a blink at you.

You shut your eyes briefly, fighting the urge to scream. Fuck, did you just make it extremely awkward between you two? Or was that just him being his naturally dismissive self? Was he just saving face because the two of you were in the presence of McGonagall? Did he actually lean in to kiss you as well or... did you imagine that?

"Y/N?" Minerva called, once again pulling you from your thoughts.

"Hm?" You blinked, eyes widening quickly as you realised you had a job to do. "Sorry, I was just-"

The older witch gently touched your forearm, causing you to look up at her with twinkling eyes. "What's going on with you and Severus?" Minerva questioned you, keeping her voice low but curious. As you looked at her, hesitantly, you saw sadness in her eyes, or perhaps... pity? "I know what I saw." She added rather glumly. You were a little confused at her tone, why did she seem so... sad about this?

"I don't know what you're talking about." You choked out awkwardly. Her brows knitted together as she leant her head back slightly, almost like she was disappointed in you.

"Don't make me sound like a fool, Y/N." She said. That was the same tone she had taken with you when you were a student. You immediately tore your eyes away.

"I..." Your mouth stayed open for a moment, unsure of what to say. "It's... complicated."

"It always is with Severus." Minerva sighed through her nose, a little agitated. You looked back and tilted your head at her, confused.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Severus is a complicated man, Y/N. I'm not sure you're aware of just how far his... trauma... goes." She said quietly, her tone switching back to it's usual soft one. You broke your gaze from Minerva's and shifted it to the ground thoughtfully.

"Nothing will come of it," You shook your head as the image of Ben flooded your mind. You winced. "It was a mistake, I shouldn't have done that, it was just a spur of the... moment... sort of thing." You shrugged, trying to ignore the pain that was currently blossoming in your chest at the sound of your own words. "I'm, err, seeing someone, anyway."

"Oh?" Minerva quirked a brow at you. This must sound so disorderly to her. You're seeing someone, but she had walked in on you almost kissing Severus? She probably thinks you're some kind of harlot that can't keep her legs closed now. Jesus. Nice one.

"Um, Benjamin- Benjamin Bluewater, I'm sure you're familiar with that name..." You trailed off, shrinking as you awaited her answer. You knew he wasn't a fond topic amongst the teachers at Hogwarts back in the day, so you were always preparing yourself for a scolding or some sort of judgemental remark.

"Oh, yes, I remember Mr Bluewater." Minerva hummed thoughtfully, staring at you with her inquisitive eyes. You felt as if you had to explain yourself.

"In regards to the... thing you saw- Severus and I, it's complicated, like I said, there's this weird... tension between us-" You were rambling now, and you couldn't stop yourself. Merlin, someone stop you, please. "I can't really explain it, I mean I have feelings for him, but he didn't feel the same, then I-I met Ben, and then today happened, and... it's just a whole... mess, Minerva, I don't know what to do." You huffed, clearly distressed with the situation. You looked down at the floor, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, too worked up to even look your colleague and former-professor in the eye. "I'm sorry, I know there's another situtation at hand and I shouldn't be bothering you with such... trivial things but..." As you looked up, a soft smile had made it's way onto her face. You were rather shocked to see that. You'd expected another disappointed frown.

"Y/N," Minerva said soothingly, placing a calming hand upon your frantic ones, "as much as I respect and admire Severus, I think you should focus on Benjamin." She sighed softly. "Save your heart. Severus will only break it." A sad smile crossed her features, almost like she knew how you felt. Your mouth was parted - mainly from shock. Perhaps you should listen to Minerva, she'd known Severus for much, much longer than you have. You didn't know what to say, so you only nodded, closing your mouth slowly. "Now, I have to find Albus. Will you make sure the greenhouses are safe?"

"Of course." You swallowed, a feeling of uncertainty settling upon you.

"Lumos." You muttered, aiming your wand in the darkened room, the reflections of your wand glittering against the mossy windows. Your eyes darted around the greenhouse, searching for any sign of Black having been inside or nearby.

Everything seemed to be as you'd left it. All of your assignments were in the correct place, no plants nor pots had been knocked over and broken... no signs of forced entry... A sigh of relief slipped out of you, your tense body relaxing. Though, before you got too comfortable, the sound of a twig snapping behind you reversed all indications of your relief.

"Jesus!" You cried out, whirling around like a bullet, your frightened eyes softening a tad as they fell upon a tall, cloaked figure - none other than Severus Snape. "Please, can you not do that?!" You sighed, a hand flying to your chest in a feeble attempt to settle your racing heart as your cheeks painted themselves pink.

An amused smirk tugged at Snape's lips as his hands were clasped behind his back, staring down at you. "And not witness the terrified look upon your face?" Severus quipped, clearly relishing in your entertaining reaction. "I must disagree."

"At least let me know you're there, I could have hurt you." You replied with a glare, looking up to see an incredulous brow cocked up on Severus's face. You rolled your eyes at him. "Okay, I wouldn't have hurt you, but still, just... tell me next time." You huffed, rather exhaustedly. "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you meant to be checking the dungeons?" 

"I did." Severus nodded, allowing his eyes to study your still-petrified, yet red face. You swallowed, feeling rather vulnerable under his gaze. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, debating whether to speak again. "I just wanted to make sure you were... alright."

"Oh," You choked, feeling like someone had just winded you. Did he really just say that? "I'm okay." You said, placing your wand back inside the pocket of your forest-green robes.

"I can see that." Severus muttered, blinking slowly at you. McGonagall's words uttered in your mind as you felt yourself becoming lost in his dark, black eyes once more.

'Save your heart. Severus will only break it.'

"We should head back." You cleared your throat as your soft voice pierced the blanket of silence that had fallen upon the two of you. "The greenhouses are clear. I doubt Black would choose to hide out here, it's not exactly... erm, tidy." An embarrassed grimace twisted your features as you glanced around the room.

"I don't suppose it helps when one is bombarded with... gifts." Severus said, spitting the last word out like it was poison. You glanced up at him, frowning.

"And what's wrong with that?" You folded your arms against your chest rather defensively.

"In my humble opinion," Severus gave a curt sigh through his nostrils, evidently disapproving of Ben's tendency to send you a copius amount of flowers amongst other things. "Few small, meaningful gifts are far more superior than a prolific amount of materialistic gifts." He finished, sneering slightly at the wilting flowers that were dotted around your greenhouse, all adorned with different handwritten notes. Inside, you agreed with Snape, and you wished that that was the case with Ben, but he just seemed to think that throwing gold and flowers at you would keep you interested. Of course, you didn't mind him sending you such things, you were grateful, but it was getting a little tiresome. 

"Just because you don't get any." You teased, trying to hide the cheeky smile that tugged at your lips. Severus's head snapped to yours, an icy glare piercing your soul. You shivered slightly, a little sheepish as his sharp eyes dug into yours.

"I don't need gifts to satisfy my ego." He quipped, turning his nose up at you. Clearly, he didn't appreciate your light-hearted joke.

"Right, because talking down on people does that for you." You retorted, narrowing your eyes at Severus. Your patience was thin today, obviously.

"You seem to have grown a backbone, Y/N." Severus stepped towards you.

"I need one with you." You huffed, turning away from him. Severus watched curiously as you stepped away from him, his eyes trailing down your back, silently admiring your robes. He couldn't help but notice how pretty you looked in green. He thought it suited you better than your usual yellow and black. Perhaps he was just being selfish, imagining you in his House colour.

"Are you quite done?" Severus voiced. You cast a confused glance at him.

"With?" You frowned, cocking a brow expectantly.

"Having a tantrum." He replied, infamously cocking his brow at you.

"You're joking, right?" You scoffed at him, taking the bait like a fool. You turned yourself around to face him. "I made a lighthearted joke and you took it personally." The corners of his lips tugged upwards slightly in amusement. At this point it was too easy for him to wind you up. "What are you smiling about?" You stepped towards him, challenging him. He was getting underneath your skin.

"It's a pity that big mouth of yours doesn't match up with your brain." Severus said languidly, his deep voice sending a shockwave through your body. You had to swallow to compose yourself as your stomach began to tingle. He stood motionless in front of you, his hands still clasped behind his back, though you were blind to the fact that he was currently squeezing them harder the closer you got.

"Big mouth?" A gasp fell from your lips as you stared up at Severus, your eyes narrowing into a glare. "That's rich coming from you." You retorted, feeling your cheeks grow hot as you held his gaze. His lips twisted into a smirk as he closed the space between you with another step, that familiar smell of him overwhelming you.

"Is it?" Severus challenged you, silently enjoying your vain show of determination. He set his shoulders back as he stared down at you with scrutinising eyes, studying every inch of your pinkening face. He was getting a reaction out of you, and he was loving it.

"Yes." You panted. At this point, you were so worked up and distracted by his words and luscious scent that you hadn't noticed how unravelled you'd become. Your chest was heaving, breaths quiet and deep, your cheeks flushed unashamedly. You were a breathless mess. Your body was begging for Severus at this point. You were desperate for him to touch it, to even just lay a finger on it- anything. You had to relieve this ache.

"Please, enlighten me, Y/N." Severus whispered, leaning in towards you. A growl bubbled in your throat as you glared at him, your irked eyes boring into his. You were so tense and wound up that you couldn't talk. Your words were so jumbled together that you just couldn't form a coherent sentence without embarrassing yourself. "Hmm," Severus hummed, tilting his head at you, as if he was analysing you like an equation. "Didn't think so." He added smugly, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

"You're such an arsehole." You exhaled, shoving him with a flat palm. He didn't budge. Instead, his hand flew to your wrist, gripping it like an iron vice. Your eyes widened as Severus's once-smirking lips fell into a serious, flat line, his eyes burning.

"Weren't you taught that you mustn't... touch... what... isn't... yours?" Severus tutted, articulating each syllable with a hint of venom. You wished that wasn't the case, but in this world, you rarely get what you want. 

You clenched your jaw at Severus, tugging at your wrist in a vain attempt to free it. His grasp tightened, and you balled your fist. "Let go." You whispered as he tugged you towards him, just mere milimeters separating your bodies. Severus's eyes burned into yours, your body betraying you as it erupted into goosebumps; his face dangerously close to yours once more.

"Where are your manners?" Severus whispered back harshly, his hot breath dancing across your face once more, teasing you. You let your eyes flick between his, hesitating as they dropped down his face, eyeing his lips.

"Perhaps you need to teach me some." You taunted, breathless, your mind jaded. Not one appropriate thought was racing through your mind right now. Severus's brow quirked at your reply, quite obviously taken aback.

"An insufferable brat like you is unteachable." Severus spat back, baring his teeth. The insult didn't do it's job of hurting you, rather, it... aroused you. Your bodies were grazing against one another now, and the way his chest was scraping against yours was sending you into overdrive.

"You wanna bet?" You growled as he released your wrist after one more relentless tug from you. Severus kept his arm raised for a moment, his palm splayed as he glared down at you, your noses almost as close as they were just hours ago. Silence encased the two of you again, only your irregular, ragged breathing being the one thing that the two of you could hear. He was the first to break it.

Gods, you were so close. At this very moment, you had no care left inside of you. You were shameless for him. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore.

After several insufferable seconds, you threw your lips against his; the electric jolt that shot through you almost unbearable as a stifled moan slipped from your lips. A muffled grunt growled at the back of Severus's throat as his hands flew to your hips, kissing you back with such thirst and force you were worried he'd leave bruises around your mouth. His long, slender fingers dug into your clothed flesh like the desperation of a starved man as he pulled you taut against him, his left hand gliding down your arm to grasp messily at your hands, guiding them to sit around his neck. You allowed your fingers to comb through his thick, raven locks; nails grating at his scalp, prompting a delectable, throaty groan from him. Your legs tingled at the sultry noise. The rough, black buttons of his frock dug into your bared chest as he hauled you closer with greedy hands, the coarse texture scraping against your skin, bound to leave thin red scratches across your breast. A strangled cry fell from your lips as Severus teethed your bottom lip, playfully pulling at it. He released it and pressed another heated, sloppy kiss against your swollen mouth, your lids fluttering as you felt yourself melt into his addictive touch.

Severus pulled away from you, a begging whine falling from your lips. "So needy." He teased, breath hot and dangerous.

"Shut up." You muttered through gritted teeth, pulling him back onto you, your body igniting once more his lips met yours.

Pressing your aching body against his, Severus's cold hand slipped up to the back of your hot neck and brought your face impossibly closer to his; your spine aflame as delicious chills shot down it. With burning lungs, you parted your lips, darting your wet tongue into his mouth. Severus let out a heavenly whimper as your tongue licked against his, sending a rush of blazing heat through his shuddering body. Suddenly, he was pushing you backwards, lips still locked in a ferocious fight as the backs of your thighs hit the edge of your desk. Severus's hands swiftly slid from your waist and hooked themselves beneath your bum, inducing a breathy gasp to fall out of you as he lifted you up onto the wooden desk, the two of you disregarding everything that lay upon it. Including handwritten notes from Ben. You felt him smirk against your quivering mouth at the sensual noise that left you, clearly proud at what a panting, desperate mess he'd made you.

As he shuffled you onto the desk, your back knocked over a silver candle holder.

"Careful." You whispered against him, your eyes opening to shoot him a warning glare, though a hint of playfulness was hidden within your lustful voice.

"Shut up." Severus demanded, ultimately silencing you as he forced his mouth on yours, drowning you with his devilish tongue.

Your hands snaked down from the smooth skin of his neck, heading towards his chest, fingers clamping around the edges of his black cloak. Tugging him closer, you laid back on your desk with interlocked lips and Severus gladly obliged, leaning over you, planting a steadying hand beside your head. His other hand caressed your waist in a back-and-forth manner, feeling you, sending your body into a frenzy. Your wet, bruised lips fought against his, noses pressing into each other's cheeks. He pulled another moan from you as he gently brushed his hand against the side of your breast, teasing you.

Before Severus could trace his fingers down your middle, the crack of a branch in the distance ripped the two of you from your intense, sweaty encounter. Immediately, you and Severus pulled away from each other's faces with an audible, wet smooch, the both of you glancing to the source of the noise; breaths still heavy, hands still glued to one another's bodies intimately.

"What was that?" You whispered, fingers tightening around the silky material of his cloak. Instinctively, Severus's hand tensed around you protectively as he let his eyes search the dark; foggy mind racing.

"I don't know," He whispered back, turning back to look at you underneath him after he deemed it safe. You looked ethereal. Your hair was messily splayed-out behind your head, parts of it drooping over the opposite edge of the desk he was leant over. Your cheeks were red and flushed, lips swollen and pink, almost bruised from how harshly Severus had attacked them. After several seconds of admiring his work, he spoke. "Look at you," he hummed, a dangerous smirk painting his face, "what a beautiful mess." He let his eyes rake over your shuddering body, lingering on the red marks that scattered your bare chest. If possible, you blushed harder, your hands reluctantly flying up to fold against you, framing your breasts almost perfectly. Severus bit back a groan. "We should head back, I wouldn't want the others to think Black had had his way with you."

You rolled your eyes at him, a little irked. He'd learned perfectly well how to get under your skin. "What, you don't think I can hold my own against him?"

"Certainly not." Severus answered simply, stepping back from you and offering a hand to help you up. You wanted to protest against his answer, however, you knew he was right. There was no way you could fend off Sirius Black of all wizards. You'd just become another statistic to him. As you took Severus's hand and slipped off of the desk in one swoop, his eyes fell on the notes from Ben that you'd been laid upon. He let out a disapproving hum. You frowned and followed his eyes. Your stomach dropped and your body ran cold at the now slightly damaged notes.

"Shit." You exhaled as you stared down awkwardly at the ripped parchment.

"Shit, indeed." Severus repeated, side-eyeing you with a cocked brow. You glared at him. "Who would have thought, committing adultery with another professor at Hogwarts could be such an interesting feat?" He teased, stepping towards you, intentionally brushing his shoulder against yours.

You swallowed thickly, trying to ignore how close Severus was to you. "It's not like it was serious," You sighed curtly, running a stressed hand through your hair. "I mean, we've only been seeing each other for like, almost... four... months..." You trailed off, your shoulders feeling rather heavy as a strong wave of guilt flooded you. Were you really trying to justify your actions?

"Four months?" Severus sounded impressed.

"...Yes." You replied, avoiding his amused eyes. "You can wipe that smirk off your face right now." You scolded, casting a daring glance his way. For a moment, you admired how he looked - his hair was a little scruffy from where you'd had your hands buried in it, lips partially reddened from how you'd kissed him only moments ago. A hot blush took to your cheeks as you stared at him, your mind reeling back to how he'd grabbed you and pulled you so close against him, like he was scared you'd disappear into thin air.

"We can decide what to do later." Severus stated, slipped his wand from his sleeve and casting Lumos, illuminating the once-darkened greenhouse. "For now, let's return. I'm sure Minerva is wondering where we've disappeared to."

We? Did you hear him correctly?

Before you could question him, he already had his hand pressed against the small of your back, ushering you out of the greenhouse and back towards the castle entrance.

"I've searched the Astronomy Tower and the owlery, sir, but there's nothing there." Filch's decrepid-like voice came from in front of you as Severus escorted you into the Great Hall, his hand falling from your back as you neared Dumbledore and the other staff. You felt a little bummed at the loss of contact, but you didn't exactly want to out yourselves immediately. Speaking of that, you weren't even sure if anything was going to happen between you and Severus, maybe he'd change his mind again like he did last Christmas...

As you glanced around, you noticed every single student was asleep in the Hall, gentle snores slipping from their peaceful faces. You felt a little relieved that they were all safe and sound.

"Yes, the third floor is clear too, sir." Professor Flitwick said to Dumbledore, his beady eyes peering at the old man through his glasses. As the sound of yours and Severus's footsteps began to echo in the large hall, Flitwick turned, staring at the two of you. Clasping his hands together, he watched you and Severus stroll towards him.

"The greenhouses are empty as well, sir." You spoke, offering a polite smile to Flitwick. He happily returned it, averting his attention back to Dumbledore.

"Very good, thank you." Dumbledore acknowledged you with a small smile as you reached him. You stopped just beside Flitwick, your stomach flipping as Severus continued passed you. His addicting scent glided along with him, a pink tinge staining your cheeks as you inhaled. You turned away from Flitwick, afraid he'd notice your poorly-hidden reaction.

Severus was next to speak as he halted himself beside Dumbledore. "And I've done the dungeons, Headmaster, no sign of Black, nor anywhere else in the castle." He said, his deep baritone ruffling your feathers. You cleared your throat, quietly, glancing away from him. You could hardly control yourself right now. That moment in your greenhouse had really messed with your self-control. Severus glanced at you sideways, a tiny smirk picking at his lips. He must have noticed your crumbling composure.

Flitwick eyed the two of you, a perplexed expression crossing his features.

"I didn't really expect him to linger." Dumbledore replied, hooking Severus's attention from you. Flitwick used this moment to slip away to keep a watchful eye over the slumberous students.

"Remarkable feat, don't you think? To enter Hogwarts on one's own... completely undetected?" The Potions Master drawled as he and Dumbledore began to slowly walk forwards. You caught up to them and settled yourself beside Severus, sheepishly glancing up at him, your hands settling in front of your hips. He glimpsed at you, cocking a brow questioningly, a tingling sensation building in your stomach as you stared up at him.

"Quite remarkable, yes." The Headmaster agreed, his hands floating behind his back, subsiding as they intertwined themselves. The three of you continued walking between the rows upon rows of sleeping students, your shoulders brushing against Severus's now and again.

"Any ideas on how he might've managed it?" You asked quietly, your voice curious but concerned. Dumbledore glanced at you with his wise eyes, rather surprised at you. When the older wizard was around, you tended you keep quiet. However, with Severus beside you, a newfound confidence had arisen within you.

"Many. Each as unlikely as the next." He replied, turning back to focus on the path in front of him.

Severus spoke again, his voice rattling you. It felt as if someone had let off a grand show of fireworks in your chest. "You may recall, prior to the start of term I did express concerns about your appointment of Professor Lupin-"

Dumbledore quickly interrupted him, his voice strict and unforgiving. "Not a single professor inside this castle would help Sirius Black to enter it," he said, looking to Severus, "no, I'm quite convinced this castle is safe, and I'm more than willing to send the students back to their houses." You glanced away for a moment, zoning out as you glazed over the large stained window that had the crest of all four houses set within it. Your eyes lingered on Slytherin and Hufflepuff, flicking between them thoughtfully. Could a Slytherin and Hufflepuff truly work together?

As you'd stopped to admire the window, Dumbledore and Severus had continued on forwards. You stood still, your eyes falling onto Severus's tall, black cloaked figure, a deep sigh leaving your nostrils. Was this a good idea? Crossing the line with a colleague? Or was this a recipe for disaster? You wanted it to work out, but you had your doubts. Minerva's words were etched deep into your mind, and they slowly slithered out of the woodworks, chanting in your head tauntingly.

'I'm not sure you're aware of just how far his trauma goes.'

'Save your heart. Severus will only break it.'

'Focus on Benjamin.'

Oh, Merlin, Ben.

What were you going to do about him...? Do you tell him you kissed Severus? Do you just break it off silently? No, he deserves to know. You needed to be an adult and admit to your wrongs, whether it made you look like a sack of shit or not. You'd made your bed, and now you had to lie in it.

Just as you were going to return to Severus's side, a familiar voice called your name.

"Y/N!"

You turned around, your head snapping towards the voice like a bolt of lightning. All colour had drained from your face as your widened eyes became glued onto the one person you did not want to see right now.

Ben jogged towards you, a worried expression twisting his features.

No, please, no, not right now. This could not be happening right now...

talk about perfect timing, hey?

sorry this was such a short chapter!! i wanted to make it longer, but what better than to keep you in suspense? i hope you have partly forgiven me for this chapter... </3

let me know what you thought!! your replies on the previous chapter had me rolling omfg.

daily reminder that i love you all and to make sure you are taking care of yourselves!! thank you all so much for your continued support, it really means a lot to me, and i hope i am doing this story justice, i have- well, had a plan, but it's sort of gone a different way... however, i’m liking it. :) i hope you are too!

Part 11!

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[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Five

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Jake and Ducky dance around each other the morning after the big fight; Bob overhears a conversation he shouldn't

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The silence was deafening. Just as Bob opened his mouth to speak, a crack of lightning broke across the sky, the loud bang following a few seconds later. You were used to counting the seconds between lightning and thunder. Back in Tennessee, that was something you learned as a kid, how to tell how many miles away the storm was. That felt like a million years ago. The easy innocence of being a child was a million miles away. 

Jake looked at the floor. Bob looked at you, eyes wide but words caught in his throat. 

You shook your head, tears falling slowly down your cheeks. “I deserve more,” you whispered softly. “We both do.” And then you turned on your heel and walked to the bedroom, locking the door behind you, sealing them out. 

***

You could hear Jake in the living room. Pacing. You laid in bed as long as possible, but you had to face the day. Gently, you eased open the door, the bright light of the living room invading your senses. 

“Y/N.” Jake’s voice cracked. You turned to see him standing at the kitchen counter, both hands on the quartz island top. “Listen, about last night—”

You cut him off. “I’m sorry I came over,” you said, picking up your purse from the ground. “It won’t happen again.” 

“It’s OK,” Jake whispered. 

You turned to him. He looked scared. Green eyes soft and warm and terrified. “I need you to know I never meant for this to happen,” you said quietly. “It was an accident. But I’m tired of running from my mistakes. I have to grow up.” 

Jake was quiet. Then, “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m sorry.” 

“So am I.” You reached for the door. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Let me drive you home.” 

You shook your head. “I need to walk. Clear my head.” 

He frowned. “Bob’s house is way too far to walk.” 

“I’ll be fine.” You scrambled out of the door before Jake could protest again. The air was fresh and clean the way it can only be after a hard rainstorm. 

Every step felt like a penance. You couldn’t shake the way Bob had looked. So quietly devastated. 

All you could hear was the pounding of blood in your ears, but after a while you felt a presence on your left and you stopped, turning with wide eyes. Jake pulled his Jeep up next to you on the shoulder of the road. “What the hell are you doing here?” you asked. 

“Get in the car.” 

“No.” 

“Get in the fucking car, Y/N,” he demanded. 

“I’m fine walking.” 

Jake sighed. “I can’t in good conscience let the woman pregnant with my child walk by herself on the highway. Now get in the truck. Please.” The last word was strained. You could hear the pain and exhaustion in his voice. Against your better judgment you pulled open the door handle, sliding into the passenger seat. Jake let out a ragged sigh, yanking the car into drive. 

A silence enveloped the car. Just the sound of the bumpy road and the tires screeching against asphalt and your heart pounding in your ears and Jake’s labored breaths on the driver’s side of the truck. You kept your eyes glued to the windshield, his fingers tight across the steering wheel. 

When Jake pulled into Bob’s driveway you gulped. Bob’s truck was there. You hadn’t let yourself think about what would happen when you went back. Jake cut the power and the two of you sat in silence for a moment before he said, “Do you want me to come in with you?” 

“That would be a suicide mission.” 

“I’m not afraid of Floyd.”

“Well you should be.” You unbuckled your seat belt and sighed. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Y/N.” Jake’s hand was hot on yours as your palm slipped against the leather seat and you pulled away, leaving him leaning over the center console in the truck. “You can call me,” he said. “If you want me to pick you up. Or you need to talk.” 

You closed the door. The window was still rolled down, Jake’s face framed perfectly between the metal sides. “I know you’re trying to do what you think is right,” you whispered. “But so am I.” 

You turned before you could see Jake’s face. Inside, the house was dark. A part of you had expected Bob to be sitting in the living room, waiting for you to come home. The way he had when you were a preteen and got home late from your first date. But instead, the house was quiet. Eerily quiet. 

In your room, you sat on the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. 

What had you done? 

***

You had dated a few guys in college, but you thought you were going to marry the last one. 

Peter. He had been tall and handsome. A political science major from Washington. His family were WASPs. They did things like rent out private villas in the US Virgin Islands and go golfing with senators in Chevy Chase. 

He took you home to meet them during spring break of senior year. You hadn’t known what to expect. Surely not a mansion in Palisades overlooking the Potomac. Not a three-story marble foyer and little sisters in Gucci mules with matching sweater sets and cocktails at six o’clock sharp and grandparents who didn’t hug. It was miles and miles away from the life you and Bob lived with your mother — hand-me-down quilts and warm nights by the fire playing Settlers of Catan and reruns of Desperate Housewives on the background as you stirred soup at the stove and summer nights spent frolicking in the tall grass behind your high school with a few bottles of beer and someone’s playlist echoing loudly from the open doors of a parked car. 

Peter lived in an alternate universe. And still, a part of you thought you were going to marry him. 

It wasn’t until a week before graduation when you realized it was over. 

“I want to be a mom,” you said. Peter looked up from his drink, eyes wide. “Not now,” you rushed out. “But eventually.” 

He set his rocks glass down. “Baby,” he whispered. “I don’t want kids. They’re just not for me.” 

That was the beginning of the end. You watched the light drain from his eyes and he watched the hope leach out of yours. By graduation morning you had broken up, and that afternoon you were one of the first cars to peel out of the parking lot, headed East to Chattanooga, the tears filling your eyes, making it hard to see. 

You had known all along you wanted to be a mother. Have a family. But you had mistakenly thought you’d do it in the right order. First comes love then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage. 

You had never been so wrong. 

***

Bob was always the first person to apologize after a fight. He would knock on your door with a sleeve of Oreos hidden behind his back as a peace offering or offer to take a midnight drive in the country with the windows rolled down and the music blaring until finally you were calm enough to talk. 

You were the hot head and Bob was the even tempered one. 

Until now. 

For two days you danced around each other. You got up after he had left. He was in his room by the time you came home. You had taken the library job. It was a small library near the beach with a daily reading session for kids that you had volunteered to lead. Even though Bob said it was a waste of your talent and degree, there was something so nice and calm about going into the library and settling into a pile of books, helping to set up the coloring station in the corner, assisting older people with finding the right book or manual. 

On the third day, you came home from the library with a tote bag full of parenting books to find the Dagger Squad in the living room. You stopped dead in your tracks as the room was enveloped in silence. 

One look at their faces and you knew that they knew. Jake was conspicuously absent. 

“Hi,” you squeaked, stepping into the hallway. “I’ll just get out of your way.” 

“Y/N.” Phoenix’s voice cut through the stiff air. “Let’s chat.” 

It felt like a Bachelor moment where the contestant steals the bachelor on a group date. But this time no one else was interested in speaking to you. Least of all Bob, who sat in the corner with his face turned down toward his shoes. 

Outside, the warm air licked at your face. You and Phoenix settled into the two Adirondack chairs Bob had set out on the back deck. She turned to you. “I just wanted to say, congrats.” 

“You know you’re the first person who has said that to me,” you replied. It felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders. 

“I know Floyd is having a hard time with this,” Phoenix said. “But he’ll come around.”

“What if he doesn’t?” you whispered. 

Her face softened. “He will. He has to. I’ve known Floyd for two years now and there’s only three things I know for sure. First, that Hangman will never beat me in a race. Second, that he might try and hide it but I’m pretty sure Bradshaw’s middle name is Joy. And third, that Bob loves you more than anything in the world. He’s gone on and on about his perfect little sister so much that we all felt like we knew you before you even showed up on North Island.” 

“I’m not perfect,” you said quietly. “Nowhere near it.” 

“Does it matter?” Phoenix asked. “He loves you. You’re the one thing he cares most about.” 

“Then why doesn’t he care that he’s hurting me?”

“He’s too stuck to realize it. He thinks that he let you down.”

“He has let me down,” you said. “Not because he let me get pregnant. That was never his decision to make. His reaction to all of this, that’s the only time I’ve ever felt let down by my brother in my entire life. It’s the one time I’ve ever found myself wondering what a life without him would be like. It’s made a part of me hate him.” 

The sound of the door sliding open caught both of your attention. You and Phoenix turned to see Bob with his head poking out the sliding glass door, ears red, eyes wide. He had heard you.

Every last, terrible word. 

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away @mycobrakai1972 @xomrsalliej4787xo @na-ta-sh-aa 

#jake hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #jake hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #bob floyd x female reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #pregnancy #pregnancy fic #unexpected pregnancy #sister reader #natasha phoenix trace #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #glen powell #jake seresin angst #hangman angst

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

What were you thinking about when that buzzer sounded?

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: The latest chapter is finally here, and it is the penultimate chapter of the series. I hope to update this soon so you aren't left hanging too long for the finale, so fear not, I will put every effort into getting it written! Love you guys, and appreciate all the asks and comments you send me 🥰

Part 9 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️- 

For a moment, while you swam between waking and sleeping, everything was dark. The floor felt like it was shifting from underneath you. Piercing noise filled your ears and rattled throughout your entire body. Barely a few seconds later your retinas were scorched by sizzling orange light. 

This isn’t right.

What’s happening?

You felt yourself frown despite the crackling ache that hammered into your skull, the wrinkle in your brow was more like a molehill. Even in the brilliant glow of the light around you, you couldn’t make anything out. You were only seeing hazy shapes and thinking thoughts that were barely more coherent. The piercing noise turned into a low buzz, though the room still felt like it was on an unsteady foundation. 

What happened?

Where were the others?

You strained a moment, breathing heavily and stretching your body out. Were you lying down? You looked downward at your crumpled form and groaned. You’d confirmed it alright, as if the cold damp ground weren’t proof enough. It was difficult to tell how long you’d been laying like that, however if the prickling in your arms and legs were anything to go by it had clearly been a while. 

You were struggling to try and work out what had happened. It felt like you were fighting for the last plank of wood in a shipwreck, your head feeling like it had been knocked and rolling in the foaming waves for some time before you’d come to. Though finally through the spray of racing thoughts you were able to grasp onto something more, a dull thudding sound that rhythmically beat behind you. A groan of anguish followed not long after, and then something that sounded like a string of choked curses. 

“Looks like your friend has awakened, Captain. Shall we give you a break…?”

You frowned deeper, but you didn’t get long to work out who those words belonged to before you were seized. Suddenly Your body was being hoisted up by a pair of rough hands and you were all but thrown down in a deeply uncomfortable metal chair. As if that wasn’t enough to contend with, the unexpected movement sent your stomach and head roiling into green sickness. As you slowly started to snap out of it, you came to realise you were being bound to the chair that you’d been slammed into. A couple of pairs of hands were grabbing you and fastening you tightly to the cold metal, leaving you all bound up like a christmas turkey. 

“You don’t look so good, Sergeant,” the voice from before taunted, sounding from somewhere above you. “But that makes sense, ah? My men already gave you quite the head wound back at the market. I wonder…are you even hearing me right now? Has your head been cracked open too many times now?”

You choked down the lump that had sat heavy in your throat and jerked your head up, facing the dark shape that had cast such an oppressive shadow over your eyes. Whoever it was, was standing in front of the light. You had no hope of seeing them, trying as you were.  

“Fu-...fuck you,” you muttered, blinking your eyes up at the silhouette of your tormentor. 

The man chuckled, a raspy sound that came from deep within his chest. 

“You’re not lost to us yet, I see.”

You gritted your teeth and continued to desperately try and focus your eyes on the man. Something within you was burning, there was bile trying to force itself upwards the longer you held your head up, though intuition told you it wouldn’t be much of a shame if you spat up on whoever it was that had captured you. 

“Who-oo are you?” you demanded, throat too dry to carry the threat you wanted.

“Oh, Sergeant, your condition might be worse than we’d feared. Don’t you recognise me?”

You shook your head up at the shadow man, growing tired of your confused state. Even tied to a chair you still couldn’t seem to piece together how you got there. The last thing you could recall was telling Soap and Ghost to run, warning them of an oncoming party of men that were approaching the back of the truck.

The trucks. 

That’s right, you’d stolen yourselves away on the trucks - you’d all been waiting to see where they’d set up camp. Except…. They hadn’t stopped at any kind of base. The trucks had stopped so that they could get some respite after having to quickly pack up and leave their old haunt - it had been Soap that had said something about that. Soap had translated something they’d said. 

Then König had said something through the comms…what was it again? He’d said-

“Am I not keeping your attention, Sergeant? How rude.”

If the disembodied voice wasn’t enough to tear you out of your thoughts, the slap that knocked your teeth together was. 

Fresh pain blossomed over your cheek and you groaned out. It only served to make you even more acutely aware of the sorry state your body was in. Everything was hurting and nothing felt right. You’d been in some scrapes in your life, but for the second time you were sure this was going to be the end of you. Slowly but surely, whoever it was that held you captive was going to rip you to shreds. 

At the very least, you decided you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of finding it pleasurable. You weren’t going to beg for him. 

“Maybe you need a familiar face to wake you up properly.”

You glared up at the man above you, ready to spew vitriol that could outspark a petrol fire, but you didn’t get the chance. The wind was knocked from you when the chair was kicked on its side and you’d gone tumbling with it. Back on the grimy floor again, you thought, maybe if I’m lucky I’ll fall in a puddle and drown. 

Self pity had stopped you from immediately looking ahead. Though the moment you managed to concentrate on anything other than the searing pain that was winding itself around your wrists, ankles and back, you were unpleasantly surprised to see a thunderous face over on the other side of the room. One that looked much like you felt. 

“Price?” you croaked, locking gazes with his wide eyed stare.

He couldn’t answer you back. Price’s mouth was gagged with a thick piece of cloth, something like an old tshirt scrap. The fabric was wrapped tightly around his face and it was trapping all the expletives he’d normally be hurling from exploding into the tiny room. You strained as you looked at him, what was that that was dripping from his face? Had he been bleeding that much? It looked too thin to be blood alone.

You’d never seen the Captain like this before, he was in a sorry state. His face was sporting a rainbow of different bruises, and, from below that, swollen skin that had bubbled up into painful lumps. His armour and his weapons had been stripped from him, his jacket and hat as well, his hair was limply slicked back on top of his head. His shirt had been partially torn and that too was wet, it looked like they’d used a knife on him - you could see the bloody evidence in the form of a thick cut that striped roughly through his pecks.

“Price,” you said again, not quite sure what else to say. “Captain!”

You’d never seen him look so vehemently possessed by rage. He hadn’t even been this angry when he’d called you out for the whole König debacle. No, now that he was faced with you lying on the ground and lost for words he was the most furious you’d seen him in his life. If it weren’t for the gag, you’d have been convinced that he’d have spit fire.

“Speaking more confidently, Sergeant. This is good. Maybe now we can begin, yes?” 

“Begin what?” you spat. “You think you can learn anything from me?”

The man chuckled, the sound emanating as if from a wide rocky cavern. The sound filled the room uncomfortably, squashing you, causing you to wince just before you were picked up by the back of the chair and set right upright again. 

It was when you finally widened your eyes, that you were more clearly able to see the man in front of you. The sight of him made your heart drop. It was John Rousseau himself. His determined gaze was set on you as if he’d ripped himself free out of the photographs on your briefing documents and sprung to life in all his terrible glory. Though unlike the photographs, - taken when he’d been captured earlier on in his life- he was smiling now. He held something of a more deadly glint in his eyes. 

You were left speechless then. What were you to say to the man you’d been chasing all that time? Now that he was standing in front of you in the flesh, tight black clothes showcasing his rippling arms and powerful legs. You weren’t going to last long if he was going to keep kicking and hitting you, you knew that then. 

“This isn’t an interrogation, soldier - I don’t need to learn anything from you. We’re in the middle of making a very special video, a little gift for your superiors. They will get the benefit of seeing that you are alive - mostly. And they will know we are serious in our demands. In return they will give us back my brothers. If not then…you will not remain alive for much longer, will you?”

Rousseau’s widening smile reminded you of a venomous snake slithering out a dark crevice for the hunt. If that weren’t enough to unnerve you, the sound of something metal being scraped across the ground and the following rush of sloshing water lapping against its edges was enough to do the trick. All at once you realised exactly what Rousseau intended to do. 

Price roared from the otherside of the room, in the corner of your vision, struggling futilely against his impossible bindings. Though you didn’t focus much on him. A shadow crossed the room and you painfully twisted your head to meet the barbarian that made it. You watched as another familiar face, the man from the market that had killed his associate, stood silently above you. He held a cheap old digital camera aloft in his hands and smiled slyly, giving you your last glimpse of cruelty before a cloth was forced over your face and the world went dark once more. 

They were going to do to you exactly what they had done to Price. Finally you knew why he was so wet. Your body shook.. You could hardly breathe. Though you had to. Your training demanded it. You’d been waterboarded before, though now it wasn’t going to be a test. This was the real deal, there was no end goal in sight. You could hear the bucket being lifted off the ground, it was almost too late to remedy your panic.

No, you had to steel yourself. 

Deep breath in, soldier. 

And Hold it.

Hold it.

-☠️-

Ghost and Soap stood over the group in front of them with expressions so solemn that they could've dropped birds from the sky. Soap kept wincing as he’d shift his weight and forget his bad leg, and Ghost couldn’t stop staring off to the side, clearly replaying what had happened, turning it over and over in his mind until his eyes glazed almost grey. It was clear to see that neither one could reconcile with what had just gone down. 

After a moment of empty silence, considering what to say, both the men eventually recounted what had happened to the others, facing Laswell and the rest of the men with their blank eyes and flat voices as they tried to stay professional. No matter how hard they tried though, their minds still lingered on the soldier they’d left behind, ceaselessly wondering what had happened to you.

Around halfway through your impromptu truck ride, with you on top while the two men hid inside, Gaz had reported that his group had reached exfil and regrouped with the rest of the team. Most of the remaining soldiers had made it there, along with a very rattled Laswell who’d explained to everyone that the safe house had been compromised and Price had been taken by surprise, caught in a trap laid out by the first rogue truck that had left the compound. Ghost, Soap and you of course had heard this through Gaz’s comms, one of the last lines to remain working - the other’s had faced multiple blasts and close combat bouts.

From that moment, now that they had contact and were aware of where Rousseau was headed, everyone was concentrating on regrouping with your team. They were tracking your signal and speeding along in the last of the working vehicles, hoping and praying they could reach the trucks and bring everyone back.

The men’s eyes flicked between each other as they let the story unfold, remembering what it was like standing in the almost pitch black of the cargo container while you lay above them. The tension that had yet to leave their bodies, only had them straining their tired muscles more. 

Soap told everyone about you hissing over the line from above, telling him and Ghost about the trucks slowing down. You’d asked for orders and Soap had looked warily at Ghost then, watching as the man loomed over him and quietly searched for an answer. He’d curtly told you to lay low and stay quiet, tell them if anyone got out. It wasn’t long before you reported just that, and Soap had plastered himself to the doorway, straining to try and hear what they could be saying out there. 

His French was rusty, rustier than his Spanish, but he was able to make out parts of a conversation that had broken out. They were talking about how glad they were that they could finally stop, one said something about needing to piss, the other laughed with him and said it was a wonder he’d managed to hold it in through the blasts. Another man had approached them and shouted over, saying that they needed to check the cargo first and ensure it wasn’t damaged or he’d make sure they’d never piss right again. 

It was at that point, that it was evident that you all had to move. Though none of you could think of a way to make it past the small army undetected, especially if Ghost and Soap were required to burst from the creaking metal doors. Therefore, they’d decided to go with the distraction that you’d come up with, not a great one, but one that gave them a semblance of a shot to get away nonetheless. 

König had intervened, he’d cut into the conversation with a new level of fury and demanded that you rethink your plan. ‘You can’t do this! Don’t you dare go ahead with this suicide mission!’ He thought it was sheer stupidity to throw a frag out into the middle of the group and just hope that they were too distracted by the fallout to track the direction it had come from. He’d all but ordered you to wait for the team to reach you all, but you’d argued back, saying that they couldn’t count on not being discovered until then. They were too far away. 

You’d told him you loved him over the line, seemingly uncaring what the rest of the team thought of it now, and said that he had to let you work. Next thing they knew, you were informing Ghost and Soap that you were sending the frag out. It was difficult to hear König’s frenzied screams after that, they were just higher notes floating on top of the discordant din that was soon to follow. 

When you’d pulled the pin all hell had broken loose.

Ghost and Soap clattered from out of the truck and you scrambled down from the top, rejoining the two men before sprinting like hell into the thin treeline. The wood’s were no longer as lush in the place they’d stopped, probably by design so they would know if they were being approached. Unfortunately it meant they were able to track your group running away as well. You could hear the distant sound of their cries start to get closer again. 

Gunfire had broken out, peppering the air with loud shots. What seemed like hundreds of soldiers but was probably a group of around twenty, chased you all down and shot at your feet. They were demanding that you all stop, shouting in English and French and possibly other languages too. 

For a wondrous minute it had seemed like you all might get away with your lives, but just as you hit a thicker portion of the woods, a single grenade was tossed in your direction and all of you were sent flying. 

Ghost took over the report then. Soap’s voice cut out as he remembered the sickening churn of his stomach just before he’d blacked out. He was struggling to keep aloft. Only the thought of you out there somewhere kept him standing, the thought of your determined eyes as you fought like hell for the two men that had been intent on icing you out. All because they thought you were going to break up the team from your fooling around… And what did all that matter now?

Ghost slyly knocked his elbow into Soap, getting him to stay out of his mangled thoughts before he continued. He told everyone how Soap had been knocked out when he’d hit the ground, but you and he were still awake. 

Soap had managed to rouse again, but he was hardly up to walking after his dodgy landing - never mind running unassisted on that bad right leg. Ghost wasn’t feeling a hundred percent either after being slammed into a thick tree trunk, but he was able to carry on. He’d tried to insist that you should help with Soap and you could all run together, but you’d shaken your head and denied him any assistance. You’d told him to take Soap and send the others forward, he had to direct them to you, or they’d never find you all in time you’d said. You could defend yourself from there, you’d assured them you could do it.

Ghost had tried to reason with you, pleaded with you not to be a fucking idiot, but you weren’t hearing any of it. You pulled out your gun, like a knight drawing their sword for the last stand, and told him simply that he could insult you after the job was done and you’d recovered Price. You’d reminded him that when you were all home safe, there would be a meeting to discuss your forbidden relationship, and he could get all of his famous remarks on record as well. Ghost’s face soured at the memory, but from there everyone was all caught up on what had happened. 

He and Soap had reached the others and then they had pushed forward. Only, they didn’t find you by the rocks, or in the place where the trucks had been. That spot was empty save for a few men that had stayed behind to try and fight them off and prevent anyone from following. It was then that they knew they’d lost you and Price and the mission was over. They had failed completely. 

König had heard enough. He’d been listening to their little tale with a curled lip that quickly turned to a full sneer and with every passing second that he spent revising over the details of their quest of incompetence, he felt his body temperature rise by another degree. He was so angry, he was shaking. 

He stormed forward, slicing through the team of men that stood between him and Ghost with precision, ramming the Lieutenant down before he could think to do anything. It wasn’t possible to stop him, he’d borne down on Ghost with an animal force and soon he was swiping and clawing at him like he might take out his throat. The screams that were bursting out of him were nothing short of feral. 

“It should have been you! You should’ve stayed behind, you rat fucking bastard. You lead your team on a suicide mission and yet here you stand telling us all about how we failed. You failed, you failed Ghost! You failed Sneak! Do you hear me? I will tear you apart! I will rip the skin from your bones and burn what’s left of you and then I will piss on your ashes, you fucking swine!”

“König!”

Horangi tried to be his voice of reason, but König was too far gone. He was incensed. 

As if it weren’t bad enough that the love of his life had professed their love while they actively ensured their own destruction, he now had to listen to the Lieutenant prattle on about what had happened as if you hadn’t been pressured into being the sacrificial lamb. It was too much to bear. His head was ringing with your love confession and with the thoughts of what those men could be doing to you even as he tried to tear Ghost apart. The images were inspiring him to further cruelty, echoes of past sins and future vows. 

König continued to pummel Ghost, trying to target his weak spots with prejudice, but he didn’t get to keep the upper hand for much longer. The Lieutenant wasn’t going to allow himself to be turned into mince. He wasn’t any good to Price or you if he let himself face König’s punishment.

Ghost grabbed out at König’s wildly swinging fists and caught one, using the moment of struggle to punch him in the ribs and swing round so that he was on top of the Austrian. König howled and flailed like a banshee, but he couldn’t do much of anything once he was on his back. Gaz and Horangi had joined Ghost, they assisted in pinning König down and now his shouts were reduced to heavy breaths as he stilled against the pressure. He was like an alligator with its mouth taped shut, the moment that the binding came off he was determined to strike again, bite through his prey in one clean motion. 

Soap stood watching in horror from above the little skirmish. His face was paling to an ill shade. It was then that it finally occurred to him that maybe you hadn’t thrown away your position on a stupid fling. You weren’t turning your back on your family, you had just found someone else worth letting in. Why else would König sound as if he was ready to face death itself for you? You both had to be far closer than anyone could have comprehended. 

Soap was left blinking silently as he gazed up at Ghost and then to Gaz, wondering, had they realised the same thing?

“König you need to calm down,” Ghost advised, voice straining as he fought through the pounding headache that blossomed in the base of his skull. 

“Ghost…” König trailed, thinking on his words for a moment. “Unless Sneak is returned safely, I will never be calm again. In fact, I will make it my personal mission to break you. I will take you to some god awful hole somewhere and make sure that you live long enough through your torture to forget what daylight looks like. Only once you’re empty, will I bury the shell of you alive!”

Ghost’s left eye twitched, the lid took a moment to settle. König could hardly have known that he’d strike a nerve, but as he saw Ghost’s expression behind his mask he let his mouth curve into a smug grin behind his hood. Even if he couldn’t hit him physically he could settle for mental warfare. 

Ghost struggled not to take his revenge. There was a brief moment of inner turmoil where he wanted to reach out and smash every tooth out of the mercenary’s head, but there was a voice in his head that demanded he didn’t. They needed every resource they had to retrieve their missing Sergeant and Captain. As much as he hated König, he couldn't deprive the team of an effective member, and loathe as he was to admit it he knew you’d need someone to come home to.

Ghost rose up off of König then, silently glaring down at him before he looked over at Laswell. His golden lashes caught the light, and then so did his eyes, showcasing the dangerous glint that settled just underneath the surface. 

“Well, until we find Sneak and Price, why don’t you just keep yourself under control. Yeah?” He said gruffly, stepping away from König before he got second thoughts about beating him to a pulp. 

König was allowed back up again, only when the others were sure he wouldn’t try and tackle Ghost. He hated having all their eyes on him. He’d never felt so afraid in all his life and now he was being put under a microscope by people that, as much as he tried not to for your benefit, he despised. 

Horangi was his saving grace. His old friend turned to the others and shooed them off with a jerk of his head before he turned back and gave König a sympathetic tilt of his head. He knew better than to try and offer any words of comfort or to try and stick around. König was beyond calming, it was obvious to see from his flexing hands and narrowed eyes. 

König’s mind was a storm of emotions. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so much, so deeply. He was furious with you, upset that you would throw your life away just to try and save the stupid teammates that had gotten you into such a predicament in the first place. His heart tore thinking of you trying to salvage your relationship with your brothers while they let you fall to the enemy.

Most of all though König felt terribly frightened. For once he had no control over the situation. He couldn’t smash his hulking body at the problem, nor threaten his way to the outcome he wanted. He just had to wait and hope that you would be alive somewhere and that you were ok. He could feel his breaths shorten at the thought of you being hurt by those awful men. Men just like him - men with no qualms about ignoring any sense of empathy in order to get a job done.

Was the world punishing him?

For some reason König couldn’t help but feel that whatever happened to you was his fault. Was it the divine justice? After all the people he’d torn through, all the faces he’d beat unrecognisably in the name of getting the job done, was one of his most treasured people going to be lost to him in exchange for his misdeeds? You were the one that had called him out on it all, how could you be the one to pay? 

König felt dizzy, as if the world were spinning double time and the sky was waving and distorting in his vision. The light blue and purple hues were starting to fade with the closing light, and soon enough the sky would fall completely to black. Were you being kept somewhere dark? Did they have you bound and screaming? 

He thought he was going to be sick. 

All of a sudden he was locked in a glass cage, everyone around him was muffled and his body was constricted. He couldn’t breathe. He was cursing internally, gasping for air all the while. 

Why couldn’t you have fucking taken me instead?

“König.”

König’s eyes flicked up, he jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly he realised he’d been standing with his arms wrapped tightly around his body like a safety harness and let his hands drop to his sides. He peered down at the man connected to that stupidly brave hand and then locked eyes with Soap.He sneered, throwing the appendage away from himself before he gave into the compulsion to break it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” König hissed.

“Laswell’s ordered us to move, mate,” Soap answered softly. 

König looked off to the spot that everyone had been gathered in before, and realised that they’d all begun dispersing into the transports. Everyone was heading along to the beaten up trucks and piling in like cartoon clowns. Ghost was at the head of them all, König didn’t miss him, keeping a wary eye on Soap and König  as he directed everyone else. 

König laughed darkly to himself and started walking. Ghost didn’t need to worry yet. There was still time to save you, they were all safe for the time being. While you remained alive. 

“Kind of you not to leave me behind,” König said, his voice coming out harshly through his gritted teeth. “Better you stay away though. You’ll convince me give into my temptations if you give me too much opportunity, Sergeant.”

König expected Soap to turn tail and run ahead of him then, but was surprised and annoyed when he noticed him keeping pace as they walked to the trucks together. It made König wonder if Soap wanted him to break again. 

“You and Sneak have been seeing each other off base, haven't you?”

König stopped in his tracks again and locked eyes with Soap, looking for whatever evil had to be lurking in the abyss of blue. However if there was any ill intent, he couldn’t see it in his body language. Soap looked at him in earnest.

“Why would you bring that up?”

Soap ran a hand through his frayed mohawk and looked away for a second, nervously meeting König’s eyes again once he gathered his courage. 

“Well you’ve been…” Soap paused for a moment, searching for the right word, “datin’, right?”

“This is hardly the time for your morbid fascination with our relationship,” König sneered, finally walking ahead again. 

“It’s not morbid fascination.”

“Then what?”

“This team has been Sneak’s life for a long time now - we’re a family. When I thought they’d gone behind our backs and fooled around, was going to break up the team for the sake of some fun I was angry…but I know that’s not what it was now. So I just wanted to say I'm sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry are you? I would never ‘fool around’ with Sneak,” König growled. “You all wanted to see our relationship with each other as a stupid crush because none of you think of me as a person. I’m not some dog that they picked up off the side of the road, I’m a man the same as you. I love Sneak with everything that I have. And now you’re claiming to love them too after the way you acted? Sorry doesn’t cut it. You and Ghost, fuck, the whole 141 failed Sneak. Don’t come to me with your pathetic apologies, Sergeant.”

König didn’t give Soap any time to answer his verbal lashing, not that he had much of anything to say to that. How could he stand and defend himself when he’d been the cause of your guilt and the reason that you’d felt pushed to send him and Ghost to their safety while you fell? He was motionless as König picked a truck to settle into, picking a relatively empty section of the bed that only grew more sparse as the other men inside scrambled to keep their distance.

Soap stared a minute longer, but he was forced to move when he realised he was one of the last to load up. His feet marched automatically, but his head never left the conversation. He’d think about it until the moment he knew you were safe again. He had to be able to get his chance to apologise properly, he had to prove that he loved you no matter what, even if Price wouldn’t let you stay on the team. He could live without working with you, but he couldn’t go on knowing he’d been the cause of your death. 

König watched Soap trudge toward Ghost and closed his eyes, willing his breaths to remain steady and for his tears to stay safely welled behind his lids. He couldn’t let himself cry. It felt too much like admitting that you were dead already. Then where would that leave him?

Instead, he put his hand into his trouser pocket and clasped at the little wooden bird that had stayed safely hidden inside. His thumb traced along the smooth stretch of the swallow’s back and towards its beak, gently landing on the tip. He silently hoped that wherever you were, you’d feel the gentle kiss of his spirit and know that you would be safe again. However improbable that was - it was the only thing that could give him any thought of comfort.

-☠️-

It’d been a long and sweaty ride over to the next town, for the start of the journey anyway. Toward the end, night was falling and the temperatures cooled dramatically, suddenly leaving the soldiers glad for all of the heavy layers they were wearing. It made some of them look at König, Horangi and Ghost jealousy, for once, wishing that they too had full face coverage in the chill of the dark winds.

Ghost’s eyes had remained far away for the duration of the ride. No matter what Soap or Gaz said, they couldn’t get him to focus much on them. He was completely distant. It was as if his consciousness was held hostage from within his body, like his mind was replaying the days events over for him and holding him to his mistakes. Though when Soap had been brave enough to try to confirm his suspicions of Ghost’s guilt he was greeted with a ‘fuck off’ for his efforts. 

Gaz put his hand on Soap’s shoulder, then gave him a gentle look. It had Soap swallowing thickly at the lump in his throat and soon enough he was looking away, doing everything not to turn into a screaming wreck in the wake of his dark eyes. Gaz looked away too. 

“We’ll get them back,” Gaz mumbled, patting Soap’s shoulder again before he removed his hand. “At least for now, we know that they have each other.”

“Aye, and how do we know that?” Soap said bitterly.

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t know that they’re together. They could be holding them separately or could have them blindfolded and gagged. Hell, they could’ve killed one of them and only taken one back with them - there’s a lot more risk having two soldiers. We have no idea if Price and Sneak are-”

“Shut the fuck up, Soap,” Ghost growled. 

Gaz and Soap’s eyes flashed over to Ghost in an instant. His tone was hard, and his slouched posture straightened back and returned all of his missing height. 

“We’ll get em’ back,” he vowed. “Or we die trying.”

Ghost had no way of knowing quite how daunting that promise would be in light of things to come. Though when they finally reached a safe place to stop and reconnect with command back home, the severity of the situation landed upon all of them like a ton of bricks. 

Laswell and Ghost managed to wrangle an empty room and took a private call with General Morrison. It was then, in the dark of that claustrophobic room, that they learned about the ransom video that had been sent over during their journey to their makeshift base - a tiny village with a few homesteads and farm land. 

The general didn’t seem to want to give much detail about the video, he was shifty with them both. It was only from some not so polite prodding from Ghost, that the General revealed that they weren’t permitted to have any dealings with the terrorist group. 

“They’re going to splash this all over the fuckin’ press general. This is going to be a disaster, and you’re saying that our response to this is to just do nothing?” Ghost spat.

“It’s all about optics, Lieutenant, you know that. The Captain and Sergeant will be a great loss, but we can’t be seen to be releasing criminals like stray dogs after said dogs were convicted of kidnapping civilians and blowing up markets. We can’t make the deal.”

“Then fuck the deal!” Ghost said, glaring into the camera lens with hot fury.

Laswell baulked, quickly realising that Ghost was going to get himself into trouble if she didn’t step in. She put a hand on his arm and looked pointedly toward the laptop, hoping to appeal to any shred of decency that might be lingering in the greying general’s arsenal. 

“I think Ghost is trying to suggest that we put a team together and we track them down. We get our people back and take down that bastard Rousseau once and for all, sir.”

The harsh lines in the general’s old leathery face settled and his stare was neutral once again. Laswell untensed too. Only Ghost was left seething, he wasn’t going to be calmed at a time like this. The only thing that would put him at ease was knowing that you and Price were going to be returned safely. That wasn’t going to be anytime soon.

“John Price is a good man,” the general said after a long pause. “I can grant you a small team, but it can’t be on record. If this blows up, you’re on your own.”

“And if it goes well it was all a great effort organised by the cunning officers who sat bravely by their desks.” Ghost muttered. 

Laswell kicked out at Ghost from under the table and was grateful that the general didn’t seem to catch his snide remark from through the terrible connection. She quickly smiled toward the laptop and nodded curtly. She could work with a few men, and she was pretty sure she knew of where to get a few more. 

“Thank you, General Morrison. We’re grateful for the aid. I’ll have my people try to find out what we can and once we gather enough intelligence we’ll move in on the target.”

“Good luck, Laswell,” The general said warmly, face going cold when he stared to her left. “Ghost.”

From there the screen went black. Ghost and Laswell were left discussing plans, Laswell messaging her contacts as they talked, both agreeing that they would find a way to reach out to Farah while they formed a potential team. It was all a matter of muscle memory. They sparingly used your names while they were talking. It helped to keep emotion out of it. 

However, they didn’t get to remain like that for long. 

They had to find the video so that Laswell could send it to her intelligence sources and as soon as they were exposed to those first few painstaking seconds, it was all so real again. This wasn’t one of their usual jobs, this was a rescue effort to save two of their own. Two of their family members, that as they were speaking, were being hurt in all manner of horrible ways just to emphasise the sincerity of Rousseau’s threats. He was so morbidly calm as he stood making his demands from in front of the horrible abuses just inches behind him. 

When it came time to tell the others what was going on, Ghost and Laswell were practically as flat toned as the general. It was taking a lot for them to go through it all, to explain that at that present moment they had to sit tight and wait for transport to take them away so that they could go back to base and refresh and resupply while you and Price passed the hours in unknown amounts of agony. 

No matter how matter of fact they tried to keep things, it didn’t stop König from speaking up and forcing everyone into reality. He waited until everyone had been dismissed to reappear in front of Ghost. His steps were heavy and slow, his strides purposeful as he got into the Lieutenant’s face once again.

“I want to see the video.”

“No.”

Ghost’s answer was simple, no nonsense. There was no room for discussion. He folded his arms and straightened his back, ensuring that he was able to steady himself against the bigger man’s potential attacks. Luckily for him he could see Soap and Gaz nearby should he try to start a scrap again. His personal animal control unit. 

“What do you mean no?” König grit out.

“It’s not a good idea” Ghost reaffirmed. “You don’t need to see that.”

“I have to see it. I have to know what they’ve done! Show me the Video!”

“It won’t help, König,” Laswell said, appearing at Ghost’s side. “We watched it to the end and it was…it’s something that will haunt me for a long time. It was bad, but Sneak and Price don’t seem to have any permanent damage. Take that as a comfort and refrain from watching that awful thing.”

König clutched harder at the little bird inside his pocket, holding it so tightly that the beak felt like it was going to pierce a hole through him. He was so hot. Even despite the dreadful cold of the night, he felt like he was going to overheat and his limbs were going to vibrate out of their sockets.

“No permanent damage,” König repeated. “What have they done then?”

Ghost and Laswell exchanged a brief glance. The air was thick between them, like they were looking through water. 

“We need to know,” Soap said, coming to stand by König. “When we find them, we’ll need to know how bad they are.”

“Soap, don’t do this,” Ghost sighed.

“He’s right,” Gaz said, taking his stand between the two parties. “Tell us what happened.”

“Or show us,” König said darkly. 

Ghost glared through the dark hollows of his skull mask,  it really did feel like he was the grim reaper. He was the harbinger of doom. It chilled him to have to think about the horrible sounds and the terrible things he’d seen. He even wished he had just looked away at some point, but he couldn’t, he had to force himself to face it. It was his fault they were suffering, he’d thought to himself.

“They were waterboarding them,” Ghost revealed, “beating them too.”

Everyone was quiet, taking in the information. 

“That’s not all, is it?” König asked.

“They stripped them down with knives and left em’ tied up and naked on the chairs while Rousseau spoke. They posted it up on social media, the video is everywhere despite the efforts to get it deleted. They weren’t doing very well. I think Sneak had taken in a lot of water, they were covered in sick.”

König felt his palm slicken and looked down, tilting his head when he noticed his trouser pocket turn from beige to bright scarlet red. One of the swallow's wings had broken off under the stress of his grip and lodged itself splintered side down into his hand. Now he stood motionless, looking down at the mess with empty fascination. He didn’t even feel the sting of it. He couldn’t get past the sight of his blood, the same colour as the tint in his vision. 

He slowly withdrew his hand and inspected the tender flesh, gently pulling the wing from his cut and depositing it back into his ruined trousers with the rest of the broken bird. From there his plasma continued to drip, a flow of bright red washing over his hands like a tiny trickling fountain. 

“You said, your people are on this Laswell, yes?” König asked, not looking up to see the disconcerted stares of the 141. 

“...yes,” Kate confirmed, hesitating to answer. “They’re trying to see if they can find a source or get any clues from the room they’re in.”

She was scared that this was going to König’s final tipping point. The room was too quiet, there was too much electric energy charging through the air. It felt too much like the calm before an earthquake. 

“Ok,” König replied, his voice sounding far away. “I should go deal with this…I will clean this up. I will fix it. It will all get fixed”

With that he disappeared like a spectre, trailing out of the room and out into the night as if he might completely disperse into nothing. It was like watching a plastic bag float away in the wind, no one could be sure of where he was off to. 

“Should one of us…y’know?” Gaz asked, directing his head toward the open doorway. 

“Maybe go find Horangi and see what he says,” Ghost shrugged. “He knows König best.”

“And the rest of us?” Soap asked, feeling his own fists clench at the thought of the video. 

“We rest up and wait until we can give those cunts the pincushion treatment,” Ghost said, looking down to Soap’s leg. “You think you’ll be able to heal?”

“I feel better already knowing we’ll take those fuckers down,” Soap said, a ghost of a smile playing on his face. “Payback’s gonna be a bitch.”

-☠️-

“Bloody hell.”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked over to Price, watching as he slowly rose up against the wall and struggled to right himself. Your gaze flashed off to the side as soon as the ratty old blanket that’d been draped over him started to slip. Not that you hadn’t seen what was underneath it already, at that point you were just trying to do him a courtesy. 

“Good to know you haven’t left us,” you said weakly. 

From out of the corner of your eye you noticed him rush to fix his blanket, the whoosh of material sweeping up his body was like music to your ears. Knowing that he had the wherewithal to cover himself seemed like a good sign. You offered him the best smile that you could, more of a grimace really, and scanned over his face. It didn’t look much better than from when he’d been sleeping. His left eye was swollen almost completely shut and his mouth was still flecked with dried bits of blood and god knows what else that had stuck to his beard. 

If there was anything to be grateful for in that moment it was the fact that they’d dropped the buckets of water over you after they’d finished recording that awful video. It’d at least cleared the putrid sick from crusting into your battered bodies. Some relief. Not that it helped with the pain that pulsed through you like a lightning strike. 

“Where the fuck are we?” Price groaned, spitting out a clump of phlegm to his side. 

You winced.

“No idea. I only woke up maybe a few minutes ago,” you sighed. “I remember them dragging us down a hallway and then being outside…I dunno, things are spotty for me.”

Price nodded and cast his sore eyes around the cell, looking from the dark metal walls to the crackling painted floors, to the little lamp in the corner that cast long shadows from your bodies and to the few feet between you, and finally he looked to the solid door on both your right sides. He groaned then and shifted his position, almost fumbling and crashing forward as he forgot to account for the bindings on his wrists and ankles. 

“Fuck me!”

You remained quiet, glueing your eyes to the floor. There was something that felt so inherently disrespectful about looking at Price when he was like that. You’d never caught him in such a moment of vulnerability before. It was like seeing your father cry. 

“I think we’re on some kind of transport, a truck maybe,” you said quietly. “They probably have us on the move so that they can’t be infiltrated again.”

Price grunted, barely acknowledging you as he struggled piteously from his side of the tiny cabin. 

You tested your own restraints again, peering down at the cable ties that were painfully stretching around your wrists from over the scratchy blanket. The fabric was old and stained, a faint smell of fish emanated from it that you preferred not to think too much about. Nothing about the situation gave you any hope- it seemed awfully like you were the characters in the movie that wouldn’t make it. Maybe they’d give you both a few medals for your sacrifices.

You shivered at the thought.

“Have you tried to break the ties?” Price asked, pointedly breaking you out of your stupor. 

“I attempted it when I woke up, but I don’t have much strength,” you said. “My ribs feel fucked. They’ve bruised them, if they haven’t broken them all the way. Hurts to move.”

“Bloody mediaeval cunts!” Price cursed. “They must’ve been planning this for months now. We fucked ourselves listening to anything those animals had to say to us.”

“I guess we underestimated how far Rousseau was willing to go to get his brother back. All those other men too.”

“Didn’t count on a snake like him to get sentimental.”

“Well, he seems plenty sentimental. Got us back something bad for that little redecoration job we forced him to make,” you noted, seething as you tried to laugh off your predicament. 

“Some upgrade he got,” Price said sourly, “Wonder how the fuck he managed to set all this up. By all rights he should barely have any men left after what we’ve done.”

“I dunno, he had a whole lot of pick up trucks and a couple transports on the move. Probably had about one hundred men still loyal to him in just that group. No telling who else he has scattered around.”

“There were other trucks? I only saw two. The one that I was chasing and the one that came up behind us. How many did you see? Matter of fact, how’d you even end up here in the first place, Sneaky?”

You held your breath - though not for long. Your lungs still dully ached from doing that too much already. At the sound of the whooshing air leaving your body and bouncing off of the metal walls, Price immediately narrowed his one good eye. 

“What happened?”

“It’s…a long story,” you said quietly. 

“I have time,” Price snorted, looking around the cabin for effect.

You huffed out a breath at him and clutched at your side, feeling the pain shattering up your ribs like the crack of a whip. This was it. Who knew if you were going to live to even see the end of the day. You didn’t even know what day it was, or if it was even day time at all. You were finally going to tell him the truth.

“Me, Ghost and Soap were all tracking the trucks after they blew the old base. Gaz, König and Horangi went to exfil to try and regroup with the other teams. We were all supposed to reconvene and try to find you together but...we got held down by their forces and Soap took a bad hit to his leg.  I told Ghost to take him and go get the others. They didn’t make it in time though,” you said, voice cracking as you recalled the foggy events like a broken down projector.

“Why the hell would Ghost leave you by yourself against an entire force of men?” Price growled, body snapping to attention. 

“Because I forced him to.”

“Why?”

“Because they can go on and do some good, they’ll be able to avenge us and keep taking down the Rousseaus of the world. I wasn’t worth saving,” you said bitterly. 

“Don’t you fucking dare say that. Why the fuck would you say that, Sneak?”

The look in his eyes was enough to shatter a million hearts. His anger could’ve melted the walls down, it beat so palpably between you both. It only made you hang your head in shame to think you were going to disappoint him. To think that that fierce protectiveness was going to be overridden by disgust.

You couldn’t keep lying to him anymore. You couldn’t leave the world weighed down by your secret. 

“Because I was only going to be kicked off the team after this mission. I…I went against your orders. I’ve been seeing König for months now. The guys found out about the relationship. It wasted time and caused an argument that could’ve got us killed if we’d hung around the base much longer. I fucked up Price, I went against my word to you and I’ve only gone and gotten us killed! This is all my fault!”

You threw your head against the metal behind you, feeling the tears weigh you down like canon balls and sobbed. No matter how pathetic you felt, you were at a complete loss of control. Everything hurt, your throat constricted and dried like sand, the noises you emitted were barely human. 

It was all crashing down on you, the full weight of your cursed  fate coming to fall on your lap. 

This was all you deserved for going behind the team's back. You were probably going to die a slow horrible death, getting thrown in front of camera after camera until there wouldn’t be enough of you left to send back home. Every piece of you would be ripped away by whatever dark hole they chose to make a stop at, until you would become another part of the world’s fabric. Another soul for someone with willing hands to take.

Even despite that horrible line of thought, the thing that hurt you most was knowing that König would remember your last moments together spent in bitterness, and that would be all he’d have to hold onto. He’d think that you had turned on him again, he would be so full of hatred for what you’d done to him. You’d burst down his walls only to go and reinforce exactly why he’d had them in the first place. You wished you’d told him more than just that you’d loved him. You wished you could tell him that despite everything that had happened, he was worth it all, you loved every second that he shared himself with you. 

You would still rather walk willingly to your death a thousand times than put König or anyone else at risk. 

“...Sneaky. Hey! Are you listening to me…fuckin’ hell. Oi! Sneaky!”

Price’s voice somehow managed to break through the impassable swell of your emotion and soon his face was in front of yours, demanding to be looked at. You felt yourself frown, sniffling as you wondered how on earth he’d managed to shuffle all the way over to you in his condition. Even with his hands and feet tied, and his vision probably barely there, he had launched himself over to you and exploded through the barrier of your guilt. 

“Listen to me. Breathe. In and out. In and out. Breathe with me! In and out. In and out…”

You gulped sickened gasps of air and tasted the salt of Price’s body in the back of your throat. It didn’t matter though. You didn’t care that he, and probably you, fucking stank. It was just nice to have him there, bringing you back from the brink of a full on mental collapse. 

The same mental voice that had coached you through your torture, was the same that gruffly directed you now. Price always had your back. He didn’t let any of his soldiers go easily, and he had always tried to do his best for you. Even if you had spited him for keeping you from König, he was always going to be the man that felt like another father to you. 

“Sneak, do you really think that this is your fault?” Price asked, finally breaking from his instructional regime. “Do you think it really matters to me who you’ve been shagging right now? I need you to stay on the level with me here Sneak, you’re not to blame for any of this happening.”

“Why?” you asked, coughing harshly as your throat tried to adjust. 

“Why aren’t you to blame?”

“No, why aren’t you angry with me?” you wheezed.

You could hardly believe it. Your Captain was perched in front of you, a blanket barely covering his battered skin, and he was telling you that he was ok with the fact that you deliberately disobeyed an order. Had the torturers knocked a screw loose after all? You gawped him as if to convey just that. 

“We might very well die here. I’m not going to waste my last moments angry with you. Especially when the reason I warned you off of that man in the first place, was in case he got you killed…It already happened once. I already lost Alex to love on the field, I didn’t want to lose you too, not to a man with enemies in the numbers of god knows what. Now you’re trapped here with me because you were too stuck on your own guilt to save yourself. You didn’t fail me or anyone else. I failed you, Sneak,” Price affirmed, bowing his head in shame.

The rough spikes of his hair were glistening and the skin on the back of his neck was washed out by the pale white light. He looked like a ghost of himself already. You shivered and bit the flesh inside your cheek, trying to process everything that he’d said. 

Had you really been absolved? Just like that?

“Captain…”

He slowly lifted his head up and offered you a small smile, his grime speckled moustache lifting cartoonishly with it. You found yourself choking back your stupid tears and smiled at him in return, relaxing into the wall and soon into Price as he ambled to the wall and laid back with you, settling into your side. 

“On the off chance we do find a way to survive this, I need you with me, Sneak,” Price said, his hoarse voice buzzing through you. “You can’t check out on me, ok?”

“Is that an order, sir?” you deadpanned.

“Affirmative. And If you go against this one, just know that my Ghost is going to make your ghost move puddles and dig ditches in the afterlife. Got that sergeant?”

“Loud and clear, sir.”

-☠️-

“Do you understand what you’ve done! You are sending your precious special forces to their deaths! Know this; fellow brothers and sisters around the world,” Rousseau shouted, his voice booming off the dour cement walls. “Your government does not care about you, it is you the people that must rise up from nothing and take what is rightfully yours. I will continue to take down your soldiers until you give me back my family and allow us to take our territories without interference. Let's see how many deaths it will take until your governments take us seriously, uh!”

You winced as Rousseau grabbed you by the neck, though you could barely summon the strength to fight back. He’d taken you out from the transport and into dark deserted buildings more times than you’re sure that you can accurately collect. There was so little of you left anymore, you could barely hold onto your promise to Price. That last blow would be the one that ended you. 

You cast a weary eye over to Price, tilting your head slightly to your left, watching him as he struggled to stay upright. He’d been wheezing for days now. There was a time you’d become convinced he’d already died on you. You couldn’t really remember when that was. They hardly fed you or allowed you to drink. They didn’t want to deal with the toilet trips - or the open bucket trips more like. 

You’d both held on far longer than what you might’ve predicted, but now your time had run out.

You’d kept Price entertained with your stories about König, tried to force him to stay awake. After telling him a little about your relationship, they started flowing out of you like a great epic. You'd told him about the time you’d made him wear a bright floral surgical mask after he’d lost a bet to you, and then an old lady had approached him to say how stylish he was. You’d laughed till you’d fallen into a coughing fit when you remembered him surprising you back at your little apartment that you shared together with a rose in his mouth, and you’d had to clean the blood after he forgot to remove a thorn - he’d moaned for days about his stupid cut lip. You’d melted at the thought of him hugging you tightly after, not telling Price that König had huffed out to you in a pathetic whimper, telling you that he was sad he couldn’t kiss you with his mouth so sore. 

Oh, König.

You whined, closing your eyes as you watched Rousseau arcing his thick metal bar high above you. Rousseau was ready to strike, this was really it. For both of you. He was going to make Price watch his Sergeant die and then he would surely be next. 

You zoned out, falling back into the dark recesses of your mind.

Even if he was far away, it felt like König’s lips were whispering quietly in your ears. His spirit was with you, even if his form was elsewhere utterly devastated. 

Think of better things. Think of me, Schnuckiputzi, and how you’d threaten to slap me for calling you that. I love you.

There’s nowhere you can be sent to that I won’t find a way to reach you.

Just keep your eyes closed and think of me. 

Next Part Here

#König #König x reader #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2 #konig #konig x reader #a rocky start

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter One

Summary: Life didn't turn out the way you wanted. You got the guy, and the job but everything else you had ever wanted has been crumbling around you. Pairing: f!reader x Jeon Jungkook Word Count: 2.1k~ Warnings: yändere, manipulation, domestic violence, self harm, cheating, explicit language, hints at smut, angst, idk what else lol a/n: Ahh thank you so much for all of the love so far on the intro and even all the notes on the masterlist hehe. I'm really loving the direction this story is going in so I hope you guys will too! And thanks again to @kkusadmirer for the request!

Opening my laptop I pull up the most recent edit I had done on the next chapter I was working on. 

I'm a writer, not an incredibly famous one but a writer nonetheless. I make enough to get by and I'm able to work from home so that's all I ever really wanted. Just a silly girl, writing her silly stories, living her silly life. 

But unfortunately things don't always turn out the way you want them to. 

I thought I had it all, perfect grades and a perfect boyfriend with a loving family and a bright bright future. Now looking back at it all and seeing all of the stuff in the background that I somehow missed just makes me feel foolish.

How could I not notice Taehyung wondering eye? Why did I not listen to what my friends used to say about him? Why did I leave all of my friends behind for him? 

Being so wrapped up and so in love with him I didn't even notice the fact that my family was falling apart. My mom cheated on my dad and I never knew until they told me they were getting a divorce.

While my brother was struggling in high school while being around all of their screaming and fighting and finally got committed to a mental institution when he had a psychotic break.

I never knew anything about that. It's not like I didn't care, but I just never really reached out or gave them enough time to reach out to me. 

I was always like 'Oh Tae just got home I have to go' or 'Tae is expecting me so I need to get going'. My world has revolved around him for so long that my family and friends feel like strangers. 

How could I have been so stupid and neglected them, all for one guy?

The one that I wanted to build a future with and promised to do the same with me. Now here I am, 24 with student loans up to my neck and a sorry excuse for a marriage with a husband that is never home. 

I don't know what I managed to do in my past life that ended up royally fucking me up in this one but I'm sorry. Why couldn't I have done better so I would be saved from having my spirit broken and my heart ripped to shreds. 

The only positive thing is that this has given me is the inspiration to come up with an even more fucked up series of books that has been my only source of income for the past few years. 

Years, wow. 

Thinking about how much time has passed and how things went to shit so quickly helped me continue down this downward spiral and I don't know how to make it stop. Although the sound of keys jingling outside the front door is my rude awakening, my brain knowing I need to be conscious of what may happen next.

 I quickly wipe off the tears that I didn't even realized had started to fall and clear my throat. Moments later I'm met with the sight of Taehyung walking in wearing the same shirt I had seen him in yesterday but sports a brand new hickey near the collar, just barely noticeable but he makes no effort to hide it. 

"Y/n" I hear him call out, breaking me out of my train of thought. "Yes?" I question, hating that I've been caught off guard even though I was staring right at him. "I asked if we have anything to eat" he says, making his way over to the refrigerator, now going to see if he can answer his own question before I'm even given another second to speak up. 

"Um yeah I think there's some left over pizza from last night" I say and get up to walk towards him. "So how was work yesterday?" I ask tentatively, still not sure what kind of mood he's in. "Exhausting but it is what it is I guess" he says while stuffing his face full of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza. 

I turn to walk away while nodding my head, not bothering to ask anything else since it seems from his vague answers that he's not in the mood to talk. 

"Hey" he says, gently grabbing my wrist with the hand that wasn't occupied with the pizza, leaving me frozen in place. I know better than to walk away from him. Even if he's not mad at the moment doesn't mean that he won't be in the next. 

"Where are you running off to?" he asks pulling me close by that same wrist. Still doing so carefully but pressing on the bruises that he had left there from the last fight we had. 

He sees my slight look of discomfort and how my vision is trained on the wrist he's still holding and rolls up my sleeve, taking a quick look and seeing the evidence of his past transgressions.

"It left a mark huh?" he says examining the spot further and then bringing it up to his face where he places a few featherlight kisses on it, making a flash of heat run through my system when he looks back up at me with those eyes.

Those bedroom eyes that never fail to put me in a trance. He lifts his hand up towards my face and I flinch not knowing what to expect and see him stopping for a second, surprised by my reaction.

"Don't be afraid baby, it's just me" he says and keeps going, hooking his finger on the collar of my turtleneck to pull it to the side, no doubt searching for other marks. 

"There's marks here too. I guess it's a good thing you stay home. Don't want to have to make up excuses for those now would you?" he says tapping under my chin twice, a slight lilt in his tone, enjoying my clear discomfort in showing them to someone, even if it's the person that's caused them.

"What did you do today baby?" he asks, letting go of me and going back to grab a few other things out of the fridge to complete his meal. "Oh you know, just some writing" I say, trailing off and giving him the same answer that I've given him time and time again. 

"You almost done with it?" he questions, only really asking so he knows when my next big payday will be. 

I shake my head "No, not yet. I think I'm only about halfway though" I say, giving simple answers to his simple questions. "Well you better get it out soon. I bet your readers are dying to know what happens next" he says giving me a quick wink before taking everything he has in his hands and carrying it over to the couch. 

"Do you think you could grab me a beer?" he asks, but I know it's more of a courtesy than anything phrasing it like I actually had an option. I respond with a quiet yeah and bring it over to him, placing it on the coffee table. 

"Thanks babe" he says and grabs a ahold of my hand and angles his head up, clearly asking for a kiss to which I oblige. Again something I don't really have an option in doing. "I missed you" he says and rubs his nose against mine cutely, or at least it used to be cute. Now it just makes me sad thinking of all of those times when we were happy.

"Are you gonna watch the game with me?" this time giving me something that I actually have a choice in. "I think I've got some more writing I'd like to do" I say and he nods his head not even bothering to look at me or give me a verbal sign of acknowledgment before turning on said game and slumping back into the couch to watch. 

I walk over to my desk that happens to unfortunately be in the living room so I'm forced to grab my headphones to drown out the sound so I can hopefully get another chapter or two in before I call it a night. 

~~~~~~

"Baby" I hear him call for me through my headphones after some time, that's something that I've had to fine tune. Making sure I can hear him when he talks to me no matter what so it's one less thing I have to worry about him getting upset about. 

I pull out my headphones and turn my attention towards him, half expecting him to ask me to get him a beer. "Yes?" I reply, waiting to see what he needs. "Come here" he says holding his hand out to me and spreading his legs, showing me where he wants me. 

I get up and walk towards him, straddling him once I get close enough and putting my arms around his neck. "Hi" he says in a deep voice sending a shockwave through my nervous system. "Hi" I respond quietly, intimidated at the thought of what he might do next. "How was the game?" I ask tentatively, hoping for my own sake that there was a favorable result. 

"We won" he says, mindlessly tracing his hands up and down my curves. "How's your book?" he asks leaning into my neck, placing kisses over the bruises he had noticed from before. "

It's going" I whisper, starting to feel breathless from his warm breath fanning the sensitive parts of my skin. "Ready for a break?" he asks, question laced with a mischievous tone. I hum in acknowledgment, tilting my head to the side so he can have his fun.

~~~~~~

"I'm gonna head out but I'll be back later" Taehyung says while getting dressed with me still laying there with only a sheet to cover my body. "You're leaving?" I question, knowing he just said that but hoping he'll give me some sort of explanation.

"The guys wanted to meet up for a couple of drinks to talk about the game. Get some rest okay? I'll be back in a few hours" he says planting a soft kiss on my lips and one on my forehead. 

I nod as he pulls the comforter over me as well, starting to already to drift off to sleep. "Stay safe" I mumble and flip over to the other side to try and get more comfortable.

He looks down at me for a second and chuckles at my fucked out and sleepy state before walking out of our bedroom and soon I'm left with the sound of him closing and locking the door behind him. 

Although this night was bittersweet I'm thankful that it ended up like this. He's not a selfish lover when it comes to sex so I'm always left sleepy and satisfied except for the times that he's more rough, rough is putting it lightly so I guess I should say when he's more violent. 

I hate thinking about those nights and I refuse to let those dark thoughts cloud this physical euphoric feeling I have but I can't help but worry about what he might actually be going out to do.

 Would having a drink with the guys really make him want to leave his naked and freshly fucked wife alone in his bed? I just don't get it. If he's already been with me tonight could there be a possibility that he would wake up in another woman's bed and leave me waking up alone again tomorrow?

There's no use worrying about it though. It's not like it hasn't happened before, but why do I always let it get to me? Yes he's my husband but our marriage isn't like other ones in anyway shape or form. I'm here when he wants or needs me and that's it. I'm not allowed to want or need him because I'm just left disappointed every single time.

He doesn't love me, he just loves what I can give him and I need to come to terms with that. But it's nights like these where he's gentle and whispers sweet nothings in my ear that make me second guess things. 

Maybe he's changed? Maybe he's realized what actually matters? And maybe I'm just getting my hopes up. I can't keep lying to myself but I don't know what else to do. I feel alone most days but these little glimmers of hope are what keep me holding on and unfortunately that's all I have left. 

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[elizabethwritesmen]

The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 1 : July 2, 2022

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: you obviously weren’t expecting someone to kidnap you after your shift at the bar that night. even moreso, you weren’t expecting them to want to kill you. but the thing you weren’t expecting the most was the masked man who saved you.

warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, kidnapping, violence, talk of unaliving the reader, dark themes throughout this whole series, leg injury, talk of being tied up and drugged, i think that’s everything but let me know if i missed something!

a/n: this chapter is basically the prologue, so it’s super short but gives necessary background info (:

series masterlist

July 2, 2022

I don’t remember much. In fact, I don’t remember anything clearly after being taken.

What had happened was, I was walking to my car after my shift at the bar ended. I happened to be parked on the side, in the alley. There, three men were waiting for me. Waiting to take me.

I put up a fight, really and truly, I did. I think I even gave them a run for their money considering they were all quite large compared to me. I punched, and scratched, and bit what I could. But they overpowered me, and one of them hit me on the head with something. Who knows what? Doesn’t matter.

Since then, I’d been fading in and out of consciousness. The first time was on the ride there. I’d been shoved in the back of a van with several boxes, wedged in between them like some kind of cargo. The driver hit a turn way too sharp and slung one of them onto its side, the contents emptying onto me. One of the things in there was a small safe with sharp edges. It slammed into my ankle, breaking the skin and cutting deep. I instantly woke up, screaming, red hot pain searing through my entire leg, and they pulled over somewhere. One of them crawled into the back with me, and I tried to resist him but I was tied up with my arms behind my back. I even kicked at him, but there was only so much I could do with one good foot.

“Shut the fuck up!” he growled, taking a syringe out of his pocket and forcefully twisting me so he could shove it into my arm.

The next time, I was in a warehouse. Everything was dark and blurry, shapes fading together. I felt… wrong. Woozy, like I’d been drinking. Then I momentarily remembered the syringe and realized that thought wasn’t too far off. There was probably something in my system to keep me docile. That only lasted for a second before I was out again. Then again I just barely faded into a conversation two men I’d not yet seen were having in front of me.

“We’ve got to wait until the 4th or it won’t work,” one raised his voice at the other, tensions high.

“I say we kill the bitch now. She’ll be worth just as much dead as she will be alive.”

“You don’t know that!”

Everything went black again. I couldn’t even manage to panic about the fact that I was probably going to die. What day did I get snatched? I thought it was the 30th of June. How long had I been there?

I don’t remember waking up again at all, until a loud sound rocked the building. My eyes cracked open, vision still shaky, to see men rushing in. A fight ensued between them and my many captors. I watched as intently as I could manage as they took each one of them down, police arresting them all.

A man rushed my way. I couldn’t see him clearly until he was right in front of me, tall and large and… masked.

Strange.

I tried to scoot away from him, scared he was going to hurt me in my drugged up state, and he spoke softly as not to frighten me further.

“It’s okay, I’m here to take you somewhere safe.” I stayed wary, eyes focusing in on him. I had to focus in on him. If I didn’t, he just looked like a blob. “They’ve got you fucked up good,” he commented, then asked, “Will you let me cut off these ropes?”

I nodded and he leaned down, slicing through the binds on my ankles, careful of the wound that was looking worse for wear from being ignored. “Can you stand?” He asked, and when I didn’t respond, he tutted. “Let’s try.” He picked me up from under my arms, placing me on my feet.

Fuck if that wasn’t the worst pain I’d ever felt. I cried out as pressure was placed, falling into him in the least graceful way possible. His arms secured themselves around me, placing me gently back on the ground.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to stand,” he hummed, kneeling behind me to cut the ropes off of my hands. I relaxed my entire body, relieved to have mobility back. “Put this on,” he commanded, slipping his jacket off and handing it to me. I furrowed my brows, looking down to see my clothes were in tatters, ripped to shreds just about. The low cut T shirt with my work’s logo on it was completely open and the matching skirt was half off. My bra and panties were on full display, light hitting the lace perfectly. I gasped, grabbing the warm fabric from him and trying to put it on. I was too weak, though, so he had to do it for me. He zipped it up, and once he was satisfied with my modesty, he hauled me into his arms, carrying me out of the building. I started to slip out of consciousness again, my mind still foggy from whatever was in my veins. The last thing I remembered seeing was him, walking away.

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader smut #simon riley #ghost x reader series

[popponn]

a fool in love. [isagi yoichi x f!reader]

notes: no listen downbad!yoichi is kind of a walking disaster because this is the kind of guy that goes 'oh making you happy makes me happy' and he is mister egoist who goes a bit unhinged whenever he wants something do you get it. it's kind of doomed in a very cute way. (aka this is a fit of madness pt three. the only thing im willing to examine with seriousness here are isagi yoichi's deep blue eyes.)

You knew it wasn’t as if it was a bad thing. But, in a way, as happy as Yoichi makes you—you kind of wish he doesn’t turn off half of his brain when it came to you.

So far, the most often times he could do that was when soccer came up. And most of them ended up with longing stare and him turning his head back one last time as if saying 'sorry'. One time, you actually ended up throwing a snot soaked tissue because he felt bad leaving for practice when you were bedridden with a flu. It was adorable, but honestly a bit pathetic, in a cute way.

Though, those moments are indeed cute when you compared them to the others.

“I’m craving something salty and buttery,” you said at 2.34 am and you had to physically restrain him from cooking for you. Doing that to an athlete on his prime while being half asleep taught your backbone that it was a terrible idea. It made cracking noises for a week straight.

“Oh, that shirt is cute,” you once praised the white t-shirt he wore while lounging around with his friends in the living room. Suddenly, it was his favorite shirt. Last month, thankfully, that old, greying thing was replaced by another t-shirt you bought him before it had seven holes in them.

“God, I fucking hate him,” you would mindlessly comment about someone and Yoichi’s mouth went on a field trip. This happened around way too much already. One time happened when you said this half-jokingly after his match and high adrenaline Yoichi thinking someone genuinely did something to you was a sight. Hot, but unsuited for public consumption.

At this point, you really didn’t want to know what the line was for him outside of his soccer. It also didn’t help that it seems like most of his friends—especially Bachira—are a bunch of shit stirrers who supports him.

“You know, it’s sweet and stuffs,” you sighed, one day, deciding that being honest is the best way to go. “But, I really wonder, why you are like that sometimes?”

Yoichi, who walked beside you whilst pushing the shopping basket in one hand, smiled bashfully. “Uh, well—I got… carried away sometimes?”

“Definitely,” you sent him an unamused glance whilst showing him the shopping list written in his phone. “It’s not that I hate every time you do it. I just want to know why.”

Yoichi laughed nervously at that, averting his eyes away from you as he grabbed a pack of butter from his right. It took him sometime to answer, and as he did so Yoichi’s expression turned nostalgic and fond, “Remember when you said that you wouldn’t want me to lose my focus on soccer even if we are together?”

“Ah.” You did remember it. It was a long conversation that was both necessary and heavy back then. At this moment, though, it became just another chapter in your life with Yoichi.

“Well, I kind of swear to myself after that—” Yoichi stopped walking and turned towards you, looking at you through his blue eyes with many promises and softness. It took everything in you to not hide as he continued, “—that I will make you the happiest person on earth even with everything going on. So, yeah?”

And suddenly, you found yourself very lucky. “Oh.”

“And also, uh, I like how it feels when I spoil you and stuffs…? ” Yoichi murmured almost inaudibly, sounding unsure and embarrassed, before quickly laughing it off in the boyish manner you had came to known since long ago. A hand warped itself around yours and Yoichi smiled, a hint of red still coloring his cheeks, “So, uh. You know.”

Like a second nature, you intertwined your fingers along with him and gave him a smile just as shy and gentle in return, ”…seriously? You do it just because it makes you happy? Now, I’m sad.”

“And now you are just teasing me,” Yoichi replied easily. Then, he leaned his head, peering into his phone in your hand, “What else do we have to buy?”

“Hmm…” you hummed, eyes not turning away from him. “I think we got it all.”

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #bluelock x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #isagi yoichi #isagi fluff #blue lock isagi #blue lock imagines #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #bllk isagi #im a bit unwell for him #please talk isagi to me........someone.... like he is sweet guy who knows what he wants. talk about cute and [redacted] #drabbles

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-One

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: More angst, but of the wolfy-variety!

Notes: I know I said two chapters before Jasper, but I had to fit this one in which is why I’m posting out of my normal window. Trust the process when it comes to why I did what I did this chapter lol and if you don’t spot it, everything will be fine (famous last words). Honestly I think I’m just healing inner me with how I wish conversations should’ve happened in the movie lol

Word Count: 2401

Series Masterlist

• March 8th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Time starts to pass by a little easier with Quil, the quiet isn’t as deafening even when there’s a comfortable silence. I think the same could be said for Quil, since all of his Rez friends have gone AWOL.

Our days are usually spent under blankets on my couch, watching movies and just being present for each other. Plus, there’s not much to do in this tiny ass town anyways.

“Heard anything?” I ask him tentatively, hopefully.

He shakes his head solemnly in response, eyes never leaving the tv. The fact that he doesn’t even want to talk about Jake or Embry twists a new little knife in my gut.

“I’m okay, Y/n/n.” The grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes and I hate it.

“It’s okay to miss them, I know it’s hard to be stuck with just me now-”

“Don’t.” He reaches over to grab my ankle since I’m facing him on the couch and drags it to his lap, “You’re here and they’re not. I was friends with them longer and they ditched me for other dudes. I’m where I want to be.”

“You don’t have to hold it all in, I’m familiar with that feeling.” I nudge his hand with my socked foot to get him to look at me. “What good am I if I don’t therapize you too?”

“That would insinuate I do anything for you, you won’t talk about him.” His gaze levels on me and I’m caught red handed.

“There’s not much to it, I-I loved him and he’s gone. End of story.” I pick at the loose strings on my blanket, the topic hard for me to meet his eyes.

“There’s everything to it.” He squeezes my foot, “Not end of story, you deserve to vent just as much as I do. You don’t need to feel guilty for grieving him, heartache is a real bitch.”

“Heartache is a bitch, huh?” I huff a laugh as I try to breathe through the tears that want to spring up.

“Y/n, I’m the loneliest guy on the planet. In the male friends department and the girlfriend department, don’t make fun of me.” His lighthearted tone trying and failing to make light of his situation.

“We’re just fucked, aren’t we?” His brown eyes meet mine as we commiserate in our collective sadness.

His head drops back against the back of the couch, “Beyond comprehension, my dear Y/n/n.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

My finger hovers over a text to Quil, asking him to come over, when I get a call from my other best friend.

“Bells, hey-”

“I need backup.” Her request draws me up short. “I’m going to the Rez-I need to see Jacob.”

“Bella, he’s with Sam now-”

“I don’t care anymore, you in?” She presses.

“I was in the second you called, I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Good, because I’m almost there.” Hanging up the phone, I grab a jacket and my shoes.

So much for the first day of Spring Break, might as well start it off with a bang.

•March 11th, 2006 • Quileute Indian Reservation•

Reader

Bella slid to a stop in Jacob’s driveway and both of us hopped out, memories of bike-building settling like a weight in my stomach. It wasn’t even that long ago and I miss it, I miss Jacob.

Bella knocks on the glass pane of his front door and Billy Black answers, “Bella?”

“I need to see him.”

“He-,” glancing between us briefly, “he’s not in.” The lie blatantly obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Bella pushes past his wheelchair and inside the house, “I really need to see him.”

I remain awkwardly on the front porch, torn between not wanting to intrude or following my friend.

“Bella!” Billy’s warning is ineffective as she storms to Jacob’s room.

Just when the situation couldn’t possibly get worse, I spot four shirtless figures emerging from the forest by the house, Sam’s group.

I hear the back door open and shut and I just know it’s Bella.

I sprint around the house to catch up to her, “Bella!” But my warning falls on deaf ears, she’s on a warpath for the boys. “Shit.” I mutter under my breath.

Stomping up to the tallest - Sam, “What did you do?” She pushes his chest, hard. “What did you do, huh? What did you do to him?!”

“Hey - watch it!” The other two guys plus Embry shout as they step up around their leader.

“Easy.” The word is more of a growl than anything and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

If this comes to a fight, we’re fucked.

“He didn’t want this!” Her desperation pulls at my heart.

“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” The questions from the guy to Sam’s right are rapid-fire, his anger clearly volatile.

“He tells me nothing, because he’s scared of you!”

The same guy barks out a laugh, clearly he finds her concern for Jacob silly.

“Bella, let’s go home-” but my plead immediately goes unheard because she throws a fucking right hook for the guys face, son of a bitch.

“Too late now.” Another guy jokes, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Bella, get back!” Sam orders, trying to diffuse the situation as this guy begins to shake.

I grab her arm and we slowly start to retreat for her truck, too scared to turn and take our eyes off of the angry male.

“Bella…” I whisper, unsure of what to do.

“Paul! Calm down now.” The authority in Sam’s voice rings through the backyard, but it’s too late somehow.

The shaking and heavy breathing from Paul leads to a transformation that snatches my breath from my body - a wolf. And not just any wolf, a wolf from the fucking meadow. A wolf that saved us from Laraunt, now standing before us where Paul was.

Where Paul was.

Paul is a wolf. A really big one at that - a really big angry one.

Anger directed at Bella and by association, me. The death grip I have on her fucking arm has to be painful, but the menacing look in his eyes shocks me to my bones.

Bella moves before I do, using my tight grip on her to yank me into action with her as she makes for Jacob’s house.

“Bella! Y/n!” Jake yells, clearing the back porch railing in one leap, sprinting for us.

“Run! Jake, run!” Bella screams back at him, but he charges towards us anyways.

He jumps last minute before he reaches us and I trip trying to follow his path with my eyes before-

Before he turns into a fucking wolf too.

Jacob Black, our best friend, is a wolf? I mean, vampires are definitely a thing, but wolves?

Squaring off with Paul, both the russet-colored wolf and the silver-grey wolf launch for each other. Snapping and snarling as they roll into the woods, my heart painfully thumps in my chest, Jacob.

“Hey, take the girls back to Emily’s place.” Sam orders Embry and the last remaining male, both of them jogging over to us.

“I guess the wolf’s out of the bag.” They joke, ushering us up and towards Bella’s truck.

They’re wolves, Sam’s gaggle of Rez boys are fucking wolves. Jacob is one of them and so is Embry, what about Quil? Is this why they’ve ditched him, ditched us? Wolves can’t be friends with humans? What do I even tell him, or should I tell him anything?

My mind is racing a million miles an hour in the span of seconds with questions I desperately need answers to.

Embry holds open the passenger side door to Bella’s truck with a smile and I walk right past his invitation to climb in the bed with the newly acquainted Jared.

“Y/n, that’s not safe-”

“I’ll be fine.” I don’t even spare a glance at him with my monotone answer, I’m mad at him for how he’s treating Quil.

Jared raises his eyebrows and quirks a grin. “Feisty, I like it.”

Embry huffs as he shuts the door behind Bella and rounds the truck for the driver’s side, “Don’t encourage her, man.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Uley Residence •

Reader

“Hey I think we should go back and see if Jacob’s okay.” Bella rolls down her window as the rest of us hop out of her truck.

“I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him, serves him right.” Jared quips to Embry.

“No way! Jacob’s a natural, you see him phase on the fly? I got five that says Paul doesn’t even touch him.” Embry argues, “C’mon in Bella! We won’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jared jokes and I shove him as we turn to walk inside.

“Oh hey, about Emily - Sam’s fiancé? Don’t stare, it bugs Sam.” Embry warns both of us before following Jared.

“Why would we stare?” Bella asks and I shrug, just as confused.

“You guys hungry? Like I have to ask.” The female in the kitchen asks the boys, laughing at what must be an inside joke. “Who’s this?” She asks after turning around, glancing between us.

“Bella Swan and Y/n Y/l/n.” Jared answers her.

“Hmm… So, you’re the vampire girl-well, girls.” I instantly admire her easy-going vibe, diving straight in to acknowledge the elephant in the room to get it over with.

“So you’re the wolf girl?” Bella asks in return, accepting her olive branch.

“Guess so,” smiling to herself, she picks up the largest platter I’ve ever seen of muffins, “Well, I’m engaged to one.” Snatching both Embry and Jared’s hands as they reach- “Save some for your brothers! And ladies first, muffin?” It’s comical, the way she mothers them.

“Thank you, Emily.” I smile at her and sit across from Jared, the muffin still warm from the oven.

“Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam’s gag order.” Emily scoffs, not surprised.

“Umm, he didn’t… Say anything to us.” Glancing at me, Bella explains.

“That’s a wolf thing, alpha’s orders get obeyed whether we want ‘em to or not. Oh and check it out - we can hear each other’s thoughts.” Embry brags and I gape, this is all fucking wild.

“Would you shut up! These are trade secrets - damnit, these chicks run with vampires!” Jared’s frustration is lighthearted as he admonishes Embry for giving away some of their abilities.

“Can’t really run with vampires,” Emily and I chuckle at the boys not quite catching on, “Because they’re fast.”

“Yeah? Well we’re faster. Freaked out yet?”

“You’re not the first monsters we’ve met.”

“Jake’s right, you’re good with weird.” Sam nods at us, beelining for Emily as soon as he steps in the door. He presses kisses to her lips and then all over her face, causing her to giggle. The obvious display of affection carving out my heart just a little bit more - looking away I set my muffin down, no longer hungry.

Pushing and shoving each other, Paul and Jacob finally show - unhurt and brotherly even. They just beat the shit out of each other and they’re tighter than ever? Boys.

“Sorry.” Paul apologizes and flashes what has to be his signature smile at both of us.

I catch Jacob jerking his head towards the door and Bella follows, probably off to explain this whole entire shit show. I turn my gaze to Embry and level a glare on my former friend, waiting for him to say something.

“You going to let me explain? Or are you going to look at me like you’d like to castrate me until Bella gets back?” Embry stares right back, munching on another muffin.

“Jared?” I look at him sweetly and he grins, “take me home?”

Embry stands so quick and his chair teeters dangerously on two legs for a moment. “Y/n.” His tone is hard, done with this game.

“Embry.” I match him back.

He walks out the front door and it drags me from my own chair, this blowout long overdue.

“You know now and you’re still fucking mad at me?” He turns, leaning against Bella’s truck and folding his arms.

“I don’t even know where to start, Embry!” I yell at him exasperated. “You ditched us, you ditched your longest running best friend-”

“I had no choice!”

“He’s struggling-”

“I’m struggling!” His eyes are wild and his hands have a slight shake, “Cutting everyone out has been the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done! I can’t tell anyone, can’t see anyone, can’t do what I want to do anymore! I belong to this Reservation, to this pack, to Sam now. He says jump, I ask how high. He says keep your mouth shut, I cut everyone out. It’s how it has to be.”

“Embry, that’s no way to live.” My heart breaks for his situation.

“It’s in my blood and not something I can opt out of, Y/n/n. Besides, they’re my brothers now and they need me as much as I need them.”

I surge forward to hug him, “I’m still mad at you for Quil.”

“I missed you too.” I hear his grin as I hug him tight. “You can’t tell him though.”

Immediately I retreat, “What?”

“It’s a tribe secret, the pack is sacred and must be protected.”

“He wouldn’t done anything to endanger-”

“It doesn’t matter, anyone on the outside has to stay on the outside. It’s not like I don’t want to, he’s my best fucking friend. But he doesn’t have a need-to-know.”

“Embry-”

“I can’t argue with you about this, please drop it.” His wide eyes plead with me and I surrender.

“Okay, okay. Consider it dropped.” I mime like I’m locking my lips closed and I toss the invisible key over my shoulder.

“Good,” throwing an arm over my shoulder, he leads me back inside, “Now you can hang with the big dogs.”

“Okay I’m going to need you to not make stupid jokes about this situation.” But I laugh anyways, I miss this - him.

I smile to myself, happy to finally have people back in my life that I thought were gone for good. I still feel the massive hole in my chest, but the pain is on the back burner for now.

At least until I’m alone again.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#redamancy series #bless-my-demons #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #twilight #jasper hale #female reader insert

[hummingbird-games]

2023 In Review (Indie Games)

Last year's! | 2021

I apologize in advance for how long this might be. As a reminder, I don't bash games here so even if I hated something with every fiber of my being...I ain't sharing. As a second reminder, my more in depth reviews and live blogging has moved to Gem's Game Gems so I don't clutter the HBG's main blog. Okay. ON WITH THE REVIEW!!

DEMOS

Diffraction (Demo)- A rainy day otome indeed. I love the quiet gentleness of this game, the two romance options, and the fact that our MC is a photographer and struggling with her art and stack of life "failures" (because...SAME!!)

Alaris - I was asleep and now I am awake: I came late for the advertised fae and dragon lore, stayed seated and waiting for Fenir zjgjdf. Oh, and I guess the mystery surrounding our MC's abilities LOL.

The Summit Library - When I say I was maaaaaad when I realized I blew through chapter 1 and would have to go back to waiting for more content??? LOL, I was very miffed. Anyhoo, check out this title for the gorgeous art, another intriguing mystery (like what is *up* with the magic in the poor library?? who or what is to blame?? 👀) and of course the lovely characters we've been introduced to thus far.

Of Sense and Soul - I'm a regency romance girl. Like after you strip away the other stuff, I am but a poor woman with simple needs: a good ass love story 🤧💛 It's about the yearning and the slow burn and the will they/won't they/PLEASEEE they...I've never been so charmed by a demo, and the full game is going to be amazing I just know it!

Made Marion - This project is a game I've been keeping tabs on for a hot minute but hadn't taken the time to sit and properly enjoy the demo. I'M SO GLAD I DID!!! It's in early access now, so I'm hoping eventually I'll be able to carve out some time to play, but guysss Velvet Cupcake is doing the Thing?!? No idea which love interest I'll go for first, but I had a fun time meeting the Nottingham peeps in the demo.

Herotome (Super Demo) - Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh my GOSHHH. Where do I even began?? (Really the question is where the hell do I end because this is one of those projects I talk about a lot/think about a lot and surprisingly haven't run out of things to say zkjfksjd). Another game I've been following for a while, it 100% lives up to the superhero genre in its aesthetic, the characters you interact with, the music and sound design, and of course the slowly unfurling story. Jade and Mia had come out as my top faves, Warden is still there, like hovering in the backgroud, shhhh but I have a special place in my heart for Griffin too (that conversation we have with her?? I have so many screenshots just so I can go back and reread and sear the words in my brain. Like a weirdo. Yup.)

Celestial Crowns - Stats building, celestial royalty, dating sim where you fuck around and find out your choices directly affect your MC's personality?? I'm sat. I supported the Kickstarter and now I try to practice patience for the full game's release siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighh.

OTOME/JOSEI JAM

Please note this is a SUPER abridged list for my sanity and I fell a little more in love with these 2 jams with each entry I played...

Intertwine - As embarrassing as it sounds, I've never given much thought to the "red string" thing, and I consume more than enough romance media LOL!! But Van is suuuuuch a beautiful man, the UI for this game is so interactive and lovely, the music is ALSO lovely, just lovely-love all the way around teehee. (Also this game encourages replayabillity so like, do with that info what you will.)

Spring Boy [Demo] - I believe this game is going through a complete rehaul, so my thoughts and feelings refer to the original jam entry I played. The art is bright and cute and it's a super super short demo, but I was intrigued by the other student we meet on our mission to plead with our professor about our bombed exam lol!

Assignment Due: Project Blue - IRl group projects??? Suck absolute ass. Group projects with a guy name Asher?? Suddenly it's my new favorite thing in the world 😁

Cryptid Campaign Manager [DEMO] - Remember the last time I looked over a cryptid dating sim??? Remember how I was SUCH a fool?? Good thing I didn't make that mistake again!! The prologue is such a tease but you get an idea of what the full game is gonna be like, and I'm excited to see where my career involving love (and politics) goes!

Heart Cage [Demo] - Yoooooo I stay my ass far far far away from yanderes (could never get into the trope or the character type). WELP. Guess I just needed to keep searching because I really downloaded this off a whim--well, the whim being one of my fellow dev peers playing and rating-- and proceeded to get sucked in 🤧I thought being a detective would be the highlight, but I guuuueeesssss I was more into the romance options than I thought. Oops.

Evernight - I tried to explain what this game meant to me on the side blog, but words failed me. I still don't know what to say other than I loved it?? Which is like ummm I say I love everything, and yeah I'm easy to please BUT Y'ALLLLLL if you play no other game, play this one. Please. Date a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or a fae. Plz. Also figuring out the mystery of your MC's abilities and past is just delightful, ugh.

Bright Oak (demo) - Anotha one I wrote about on the side blog!!! Play this one!!! The writing is lush and atmospheric and the characters are all delightful and it's another game with a mystery to untangle!

The Faithfulness of the Universe- This one gets the award for most unique all around entry that I played. Theeeeee prettiest pixel art to bless my eyeballs, and this tasty mystery concerning Fate and witch Faustina's future (or lack thereof 👀) and what it all means. As a player I very much want to know what it all means!

A Cup For All Seasons - Another game that needs its flowers y'all. It's short but super healing and super cozy and the voice acting and music really tie the gaming experience together???

The Working Woman's Guide to Burning Bridges - DEMO - It's the way I played the demo twice and I've been thinking about it ever since 😭😭😭🙃 obviously life happens and things come up, plus this was a demo. But. BUT!!! I am on my hands and knees prayinnggg the team gets together again to finish the game. I love playing as a stressed, lowkey bitter hot mess who doesn't have her life together 😂somehow the fictional version is soooo much more entertaining!!!

Keyframes (Spring Demo) - After the game College Craze, this is legit THE college, slice of life visual novel of my dreams. I cannot wait for the updated demo next year, and the Kickstarter whenever that rolls around. And now that the developer is on Tumblr, I've definitely been stalking the account and reading each new post like it's my day/night/weekend job 🤧

Hello Counsel 💋 - Okay I take it back, Evernight is like a 20/10 but Hello Counsel is like an 100/10 👁️👄👁️ This game is necessary for my mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health, alright? The banter ✅ the character designs ✅ the music ✅ the sizzling chemistry between Poise and Salem ✅ I wish this game had more buzz because IT'S SO GOOD!!! (also the dev, Miseri, is who I wanna be when I grow up. I've made it through almost their whole backlog of games and there are no misses and EVERY game is different from the rest and it makes it hard for a toodler dev--ME--to cope LOL)

Candied Hearts - Isekaied into a candy themed game?? Sign me TF UP!!! (Peppermint I love you dearly, you must understand.)

Fully Released & Played (at least 1 playthrough)

The Knight's Dilemma - I don't even know how I originally stumbled upon this??? I just know it had been in my backlog for a hot minute and I was intrigued enough to save it way back when. Y'ALL WHY DIDN'T I PLAY SOONER SKJFHFJFH! There's a couple different endings, I loved the voice direction, AND it's such a simple concept of a game that was just executed beautifully.

Trouble Comes Twice - If I had to make a top 5 list of romance VNs, guess who makes the list?? Guess. Guess guess guess. Have you guessed yet??? LOL! I have been in love with TCT since it's development days and with each passing month, waiting in anticipation, playing the Pateron beta builds, screaming on the main blog about every single thought I had about Jace and Hazel (shoutout to Jace for helping me figure out *me*) Lol if you're curious about said thoughts, those posts are on this blog and not the side blog.

Aelfric the Wondrous - 10/10 would love to forget my first play through JUST to have that experience fresh again 😭😭💛Cute and funny and a wonderful parody type game all around.

A Summer's End - Hong Kong 1986 - Goodness, there's no excuse for why this took me years to finish but anyhoo, I finished, I loved it, I recommend it! It's romantic and achingly authentic and the art is soooo gorgeous I literally can't stand it 😭

The Things You Do For Love - Unhinged yandere manages to entertain and garner sympathy and laughter from Gemini. And that poly ending is chef's kiss too????

Band Camp Boyfriend - There are a handful of games I found and loved before I began my game development journey, and this is one of them. BCB is so dear to me, because of the story and characters but also because of the Dynamic Duo creators and their team behind the scenes. I was never a band kid I was a chorus kid but just as the band geeks loved this game to pieces, us normal folks do too!! Even the boys who I didn't like I STILL managed to find joy in playing their routes (still have a few more to finish at the time of this posting lol, GOTTA GET THE FINAL ROUTE YO). Anyway, this game more than delivered for me and I hope more people keep discovering it!!

Belle Automata: Chronicle I [RELEASED] - While only Chronicle 1 is out at the time of this posting, I already know that the 2nd and 3rd parts are going to be just as amazing???? I wrote about this one on the side blog, so here's my copypaste that still rings true:  

I love TNP (The Nightmare Prince) but Victor’s route hit the sweet spot for me. Maybe it’s the slow(er) burn nature of this route, maybe it’s the reserved nature of Victor and watching him slowly start to care (AND NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE FEELINGS TEEHEE) for me.

A Date with Death - I wrote about this on the side blog--again--. The demo. And then right after finishing a route. And then again where I was fully awake and still managed to sound deranged. No copypaste for that, I shall be nice. But yeah!! Another game where I was screaming at the sky about how much I love it and how I'll never know peace as long as I live.

Our Life: Baxter DLC - I need to offer an official apology to both Cove and Derek because falling head over heels, down the stairs, crashing into the parking lot, falling again but down a manhole for Baxter's infuriating ass was NOT on my 2023 bingo board??? HELLO???? I bought his DLC just to complete my OL collection. Was not expecting to love it this much. Was not expecting to be called to write fanfic and abandon all responsibilities to do this. WHILE DOWN WITH COVID TOO. Allow me to play the song of my people. *Send in the Clowns plays*

Our Cinderella - (this is so funny I'm taking about a side game before the main game LOLOLOLOL) Guys. Guysss. You guyyyysss 🥹if you're looking for a cozy, hilarious, equally oddly and wonderfully sweet short game, this is the one!! You may have your personal favorite Iggy ship (like me) but all the pairings are so amazing and just make sense lol!

Wylde Flowers - This is the only non visual novel game on here but it gets the spotlight because I did NOT spend 90+ hours on this game to gatekeep this beauty. No. It the coziest, the funniest, the funnest, the most addictive Switch game (after Teacup) I've ever played.

Fully Released (& still on 1st playthrough)

Garden of Seif: Chronicles of an Assassin - Life kicked my butt and then sat on me SO while I finally got my grubby hands on the full copy, I still have only played the entirety of the demo. But. We will return to this in 2024 and hopefully I'll have a full review for the next wrap up!

Our Wonderland - I looked back at the side blog and I can't believe it was only THIS year that I started OW??? Because I'd known of the game and the dev for longer than that??? So basically what I'm saying is that I was chicken shit for longer than I've been in love with this world that Developer Carrot has created kjzhhshggj. But OMG to get me, who is scared oh so easily to get hella invested in this clearly labeled horror game??????????????? And even with shit gets super absurd and hella disturbing, I cannot stop playing. At the time of this post, I'm only in Act 4, hence the category above, but it's only because I play each act in a sitting and lose track of space and time and myself. That's a compliment btw.

...

Okie!! That's 2023 in a nutshell! I played a looooot of really good games this year and while I would have liked to talk about them all, I think this list provides a nice overview.

Let me know if we share any favorites!

- Gemini 💛

#gaming year in review #gamedev rambles #yeah no I cannot keep creating more work for me #2024 I am GOING to make a shorter list 😭🤧 #hmmmm fun drinking game: #take a shot every time the word 'mystery' is used ☠️