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#reblog to get this back to where it used to be
wheresarizona · 2 days
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but now I’m your daisy
summary: It’s a random Thursday in the middle of spring, and Joel has a surprise for you—a surprise that’s an hour away from Jackson on horseback, that he insists on blindfolding you for.
pairing: Joel Miller/gn!reader (reader has smaller hands than Joel)
rating: T (No y/n, AGE GAP (unspecified, reader is an adult), Grumpy Joel Miller, a lil Possessive Joel Miller, FLUFF, it’s so fluffy, established relationship, kissing, purposely annoying Joel until he snaps at you, Joel being secretly romantic, MARRIAGE PROPOSAL (it’s so cute), cussing, did I mention fluff? Joel being so in love, Joel being the best dad to Ellie)
word count: 2.5k+
a/n: This can be read as a standalone or in the same universe as ‘but I would die for you in secret.’ An anon requested a ‘fluffy cute fic with an age gap (No smut)’ for Joel, and this extremely cute idea came to me that I wrote in one night. Shoutout to @littlemisspascal who loved the snippets I sent her, and thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
but I would die for you in secret - Masterlist
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“Are we there yet?” you ask for the thirteenth time in the span of an hour.
It’s the perfect spring day with the temperature outside not too hot and not too cold, the air feeling a little crisp when it fills your nose. The sun’s warmth is hitting your back, and you’re sure that if you could see the sky, it’d be a beautiful, clear, cerulean blue—you can’t see, though, not with the bandana over your eyes as you sit astride a horse, Joel on his own next to you holding his reins and yours to lead you.
His sigh is long and loud, and you can picture perfectly without having to look at his annoyed expression.
“No,” he growls. “The same damn answer as the last dozen or so times you asked.”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me—you haven’t spent an hour literally in the dark with no idea where the hell you’re going.”
“And I’ve told you it’s a surprise,” he rumbles.
“Well, are we close to this surprise?”
He sighs again, and you just know he’s got the fingers of his free hand pressed to his brow. “I swear, you’re just as bad as Ellie—neither of you seems to understand what a fuckin’ surprise is.” He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “Now,” he says calmly, “I don’t know why you’re purposely pushin’ my buttons—”
“You ate the last of the ice cream last night,” you interrupt. “The ice cream I worked hard to make that I was excited to eat as a late-night snack.”
“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me—how many times do I have to apologize? I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were savin’ it, and had I known, I wouldn’t have eaten it. Will you please forgive me?”
“Did I annoy you enough that the thought crossed your mind to take us back home?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t because you love me so much you’ll put up with my shit?”
“Yes.”
“Then I forgive you. Can I ask a question that has nothing to do with the distance we are from the surprise?”
He lets out a relieved breath, and his tone softens. “Of course, honey.”
Without fail, every time he calls you a sweet endearment, you melt a little, feeling so soft you might turn into a puddle.
You’re smiling. “What made you choose today to surprise me? It’s kinda random that it’s a Thursday, and you didn’t wait for the weekend when we’re usually off.” You taught at the school, and Joel did whatever he was assigned each day; lately, it’s been a lot of patrolling.
“Do you know what today’s date is?”
The question makes you think because you do know the date, and it’s not your, his, or Ellie’s birthday; it’s not a holiday that you’re aware of, either, and frankly, you’re not quite sure what the significance is.
“I do, but what’s so special about it?”
“What were you doin’ last year around this time?”
“Um, what was I doing? Wait, it’s around when I moved to Jackson.”
“That’s right, and who’d you meet a little after you arrived?”
“A lot of people.”
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes in exasperation. “Baby, when did you meet me?”
“Like two, three days after I moved into the house across the street from you.”
“And what happened when we met?”
The memory makes you smirk. “I seduced you—my sexy, way older, single dad neighbor.”
“That’s true—I was gone on you from the moment you batted those pretty eyes at me, and who were you romantically involved with from that day forward?”
Your eyebrows furrow. “You.”
“Was there anyone else?” It’s a harmless question he knows the answer to and is honestly humorous even to be asked.
You snort. “Why would I have wanted to be with anyone else when I had you? No, of course not, and you were very clear that I was yours and only yours, even if nobody else knew for quite some time.”
Your relationship with him was a secret for many months because he didn’t want Ellie to know—he was worried she wouldn’t take it well, but she ended up being completely fine with it and had figured out the two of you were a thing, pretty much from the beginning.
“So, it’s a year from the day you became mine,” he says, “why would I be takin’ you somewhere special?”
The realization slams into so hard you gasp.
“Are we celebrating the anniversary of when we first met?!”
It’s clear in his voice he’s smiling. “We are—I know we did things ass-backward, and I wish I could’ve courted you properly from the beginnin’, but I consider that first time we met as the start of our unconventional relationship.”
Warmth is spreading through your body at how sweet this is.
“Oh my god, Joel—if I could, I’d kiss you right now!”
“Well, you’re in luck, my love, ‘cause we’re finally here.” Your horse comes to a stop, the animal snorting as its front hooves shuffle in place. “You can look.”
You lower the bandana, and your eyes widen at what’s in front of you: it’s a meadow of colorful wildflowers—the lush green grass overshadowed by the yellows, pinks, purples, whites, and blues blooming thickly everywhere, tall pine trees lining the edges, and snow-capped mountains towering high off in the distance.
You’ve never seen anything so beautiful, and it takes your breath away.
There’s movement out of the corner of your eye of Joel getting off his horse, and you’re too focused on taking in all of the scenery, seeing butterflies fluttering around and birds gliding through the air.
“Well?” he asks, and you jolt at his voice coming from the opposite side of where he was initially. “Sorry for spookin’ ya, baby.” He rubs a hand along your jean-covered thigh, and your head tilts down his way. Joel’s eyes look hopeful, and a small smile is on his lips—he’s wearing a red flannel and has a rifle on his back, the light breeze causing some of his gray strands of hair to dance atop his head. “What do you think?” he asks.
Your answer is to get off the horse, Joel’s hands immediately grabbing onto your waist to steady you as you swing your leg over the back of the animal, one foot landing on the ground, then the other—you spin around, throwing your arms around his neck, and crush your lips to his, swallowing his surprised sound. He’s automatically hugging you to him, and you never feel safer than when he holds you, knowing without a doubt he won’t let anything happen to you and will protect you with everything he has; you’d do the same for him and Ellie, the two most important people in your life.
When you break apart, your breaths come out a little heavier, and with the way he’s gazing into your eyes, you can clearly see his love for you shining through.
His hand caresses your cheek. “A good surprise?” he asks.
Your mouth is grinning as you nod. “The best surprise and worth an hour in the dark.” You hold his face as you lean in, placing loud, smacking kisses over his stubbled cheeks, along his jaw, on his chin, and lips. Joel chuckles at your enthusiasm, and you end with a peck to the tip of his nose.
“There’s more,” he says.
Your eyes go big. “What do you mean there’s more?”
“Let me tie up the horses, and I’ll show you.”
He moves away to do as he said, using ropes to tie around each of their two front legs to hobble them and keep them in place, allowing them to graze.
Joel isn’t kidding about there being more: he removes a blanket roll from his saddle that he spreads out on a patch of grass, and from his backpack, he takes out containers with strawberries, apples, cheese, some smoked meat and to drink, a bottle of apple juice made in Jackson.
He sits on the blanket, his long legs out in front of him, the food on one side of him, his rifle, and your shotgun that’d been holstered in a scabbard attached to your saddle within reach on the ground. He makes you giggle as he pulls you down into his lap, sitting sideways across it, his arms wrapping around your middle, while your hands go into the hair at the back of his head, his eyes locked on yours.
Something hard is poking you in the ass. “Is that a flashlight in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” you ask with a wag of your eyebrows.
Joel huffs out an amused breath as he gets his hand under you and pulls his sheathed hunting knife off of his belt, tossing it next to the rifle and shotgun.
“Better?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes.” You kiss his cheek. “Much better—thank you.” You stare at his handsome face and brush his messy bangs off his forehead—Joel grabs your hand, keeping his gaze on yours as he kisses the skin on the inside of your wrist, leaving behind tingles where his lips touch.
“If Ellie knew how secretly romantic you are,” you say, “she’d give you even more shit than she already does.”
His eyes roll, and he holds your smaller hand in his bigger one, pressing it to his heart.
“Wanna know a secret?” he asks.
“Always.”
“She avoids teasin’ me about our relationship and how I am with you—I mean, if she sees us kiss, she’ll pretend to get sick, but that’s just how teenagers are.” He shrugs. “She slips up every once in a while, and that’s expected; I think her tryin’ her best not to shit on my happiness is her sweet way of bein’ supportive.” He’s smiling fondly. “She’s the one who suggested a picnic.”
Your face matches his. “You discussed your secret anniversary plans with her?”
“Yes.” He nods. “'cause Tommy’s idea of celebratin’ was stayin’ in bed all day naked, and it made me wonder for the millionth time why the fuck Maria married his ass.”
You laugh. “And that’s pretty much a regular Saturday for us when Ellie stays at Cat’s—” Her girlfriend’s. “—for the weekend.”
He’s got an arm around your back and lets go of your hand, reaching to pluck a dandelion from the grass at the edge of the blanket.
“Exactly,” he says, “needed to do somethin’ special, and I found this place a few weeks ago while on patrol and knew you’d love it.” His eyes squint a little as his attention turns to what’s in front of him.
“I do, I love it so much.” You look around at the flowers, trees, and mountains. “It’s so beautiful!”
“Yeah, it is.” You face him again, finding his gaze already on you.
He does this often, where when you seek him out—be it at the crowded bar on a Friday night, the busy mess hall at breakfast before work, while you’re cuddled on the couch watching a movie—he’s already looking at you before your eyes land on his. It’s like you’re the only thing that exists, and you find it both lovely and insane that he loves you that much.
The other person who steals his attention is Ellie—she’s his whole world, and that’s how it should be; she’s his kid, and if Joel’s one thing, he’s a fantastic father who loves his children more than anything.
“You’ve ruined me for anyone else, Joel Miller,” you tell him, clutching his shirt with your left hand. “I love you, I love your daughter, I love the life we have, and I’m sorry, but you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life—you’re mine, and I’ll fight anyone or anything that tries to take you from me.”
“Yeah?” He takes your hand from his shirt and presses your palms together between you, making your own look so tiny with how much longer and thicker his fingers are. “Well,” he starts, your eyes closing when he leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “you’ve sure ruined me for anyone else, too, and you’re it for me—I love you, I love that you really do care about my kid, and how you make our lives better,” he rasps softly. “No one else can have you ‘cause you belong to me as I belong to you, so I see this only goin’ one way.”
“And where’s that?” you whisper.
His hand leaves yours for a moment.
“With you marryin’ me,” he says and slips something onto your ring finger—your eyes fly open seeing he’s tied the dandelion stem to make a loop your finger can fit through, the vibrant yellow flower a pretty substitute for a real diamond ring that are hard to find these days; this is Joel doing something how it was done when he was younger because, to him, it’s the right way, even though nowadays engagements are simply a verbal agreement rarely accompanied by jewelry. Or this is Joel just being romantically old-fashioned; you love it when he’s romantically old-fashioned.
Your cheeks are hurting from smiling so big, and tears are brimming in your eyes.
“If you’ll have me, of course,” he adds, and you look at him. “I know I’ve been alive a long fuckin’ time and that you can do better than someone as old as me, but I promise I’ll give you my everythin’ and the best life I can because you’re the one I wanna spend whatever time I have left breathin’ with.” The truth is evident in his chocolate-colored gaze, seeing the glimmer of hope in the dark pools. “As long as it’s somethin’ you’d want. It’s fine if you prefer we keep doin’ things as we have been without you takin’ my last name—I’m lucky enough that you like me.”
“Ask me,” you say.
His eyebrows pull together. “Ask you what…?”
“To marry you—in all the sweet things you said, you didn’t ask the question.”
His cheeks pink up, and he scratches the back of his neck. “That’s fuckin’ embarrassin’. Not much of a proposal if you don’t ask the question—sorry—let me try this again.” He clears his throat and takes your hand, being careful of the dandelion ring, his eyes seeming to get bigger. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you answer immediately, and he rewards you with a smile big enough for his very seldom-seen dimple to make an appearance.
Then his large palms are cradling your face, and he’s kissing you like he’s just come home after being away for a while, and can’t believe he’s finally feeling your lips against his once more—he’s savoring every second and being so thorough it makes you go dizzy, your skin heating beneath your clothes.
This is one of those unforgettable kisses that will make you swoon each time it comes to mind in the years to come.
And this man asked you to marry him.
Settling down in Jackson was the best decision you’ve ever made.
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but I would die for you in secret - Masterlist
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 
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andysorbit · 3 days
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The Rock of Gibraltar (M)
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Hard dom!Jeno x Fem!reader
Please support by reblogging!!
Minors, fuck off.
word count: 1k
warnings: overstimulation, CNC vibes, oral sex, penetration (reader receiving) dacryphylia, he's a hard dom and he's a lil mean, spitting, face slapping, degradation, many cream pies yay 🙂‍↔️
note: hi idk this just happened but hooray to my first fic after my url change! for those of you that may not know, I am Andy from neoculturecollectives :)
also, @sharonxdevi this is for you my dear 🙂‍↕️
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Your thighs tremble as Jeno greedily laps and sucks at your cunt. His arms circle around your thighs and pin you down firmly; the lewd sounds of his greedy mouth mingling with your weak cries for mercy.
But Jeno isn't merciful.
Jeno likes to gaslight you a little. Always knowing how far is too far or not far enough, he gets into your head and stays there; torturing, teasing, manhandling. He reduces you to a sobbing, drooling pile of flesh and bones with a heart that only beats for him. He'll tell you anything and you'll take it as gospel and when he decides to, he'll tell you something else and that's just how it is.
He kisses your cunt sloppily, tongue flicking over your clit as your wetness slicks up his chin. You reach down to push his head away and he lets you.
He even lets you weakly drag yourself away from him inch by inch. You whimper as you move, thighs trembling violently as they clumsily help you scramble back. Jeno sits up and smiles wickedly. He palms his cock through his black boxers as he watches you.
He likes this game of lion and lamb. He likes the fight; he relishes in the way he gets to wrestles you into submission just because he can- because he knows you'll struggle against him but let him win because you love his power.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Huh?" Jeno chuckles. You make it to the headboard and relief washes over you as you savor however many more seconds he's giving you before he continues his torture on your trembling body.
"Daddy, I- I- I-"
Jeno rolls his eyes, "Daddy, I- I-I- Oh God, give it a rest, would you?" he says mockingly. You bite down on your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation.
"I asked you a question, baby... You can answer me like a big girl," his voice floats into your ears sweetly, tightening your tummy and comforting you. You open your eyes and find his trained on you.
"Daddy," You whimper. "Yes, princess?" he hums. "I... I don't... remember..." You say between hiccuped breaths. His smiles softens and you release the last of the tension from your body, melting against the mattress as he looks you over with unassuming eyes.
"You don't remember what, sweetheart?" he asks you gently. He still hasn't touched you and your muscles have slowly stopped twitching.
"I dont remember your question, daddy. M'sorry," You warble. Jeno sighs dejectedly, "I'm always right about girls like you but I try my absolute best to give you the benefit of my very big doubt but you don't make it easy."
He grabs ahold of your ankle and you yipe softly as he slowly drags you back down to the edge of the bed, "Girls like you are so fucking stupid. Just the thought of getting stuffed shuts down your basic critical thinking. It's call and response, Y/n. That is as basic as it gets. Daddy calls, you respond," he patronizes; still pulling you back to him agonizing slow, "Now I asked you, where the fuck you thought you were going... I didn't tell you to move and I'm fucking positive that I didn't hear you ask me for a damn thing."
You cry softly, "Daddy... please. I can't take another one. S'too much..."
Jeno's brooding eyes roll once more, "I don't believe you and if you're smart, you can tell me why I don't."
"Because I'm... I'm a whore."
"That's right... and?"
"And a whore doesn't stop until daddy wants to stop."
Jeno nods slowly, "I love it when that lightbulb goes off for you. I hardly ever get to see it happen but you look so pretty when you use your brain."
You sniffle as he finally pulls you back down to him completely and hovers over you. The chain adorned around his neck sparkles and you look at the pendant with your initials accented with tiny diamonds before it rests against your clammy chest. Jeno places soft kisses against your throat then up to your mouth, "Open your mouth nice and wide for daddy," he breathes. You do as you're told and he spits into your mouth.
A chill rages through your body and he does it again.
"I'm gonna be nice to you- just this once, okay?" he chortles.
You nod and his hand comes down across your cheek before grabbing your face roughly; he leans in almost close enough to press his mouth to yours, "I can't hear a fucking nod, Y/n- I said I'm gonna be nice to you but I never said I was gonna let you disrespect me. If I ask you a question, answer it. Your mouth has to be able to do something besides suck my dick."
The pain goes right to your abused pussy and he knows it. His free hand eases down between your thighs and he strokes you again.
"Daddy," You sob harder. You know he has no mercy and he pulls you up into a seated position; your upper body totally supported by him as he begins to drag one more tortured orgasm out of you. Tears stain your cheeks as he smiles devilishly.
"Daddy... oh my God," You cry. Jeno drags his tongue up, up. up; collecting your tears on his tongue with a deep chuckle, "One more. Show me how strong you are and take one more."
You whine, "Ye- o- ok-ay... Okay- dad-dy," You sputter out. "That's my good little whore. One more and daddy's gonna turn you over and fuck that used little pussy."
You cum hard and broken; sobs rattling your body as Jeno's fingers come to a stop. He doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath before he's turning you over onto your stomach, "Ass up," he growls, "Arch your back... Just like that. Show off like you did earlier. Show daddy."
You obey his commands and leave yourself completely exposed and at his whim; flinching when his hand comes down hard on your ass, "Look at daddy's little fuck toy." Jeno grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you up onto your knees. He doesn't give you a moment to brace yourself as he drives his cock into soaking wet heat. You cry out again; head lolling to the side as he fucks you relentlessly. The head of his cock nudges deliciously against your cervix with every merciless thrust he delivers.
"You feel how deep daddy is? I know you do. Nobody’s cock can reach that deep like mine can. You were made for me. This is all you'll ever be good for, Y/n. Just a hole to fill with my cum."
His voice drifts into your ears and you nod in agreement; too fucked out know your up from your down, you try you best to say something to him.
"Dad- dy- fuck... Th- ank- you- dad- dy," the words tumble out of your mouth slowly and they feel as if they're not even coming from your own mouth.
Jeno laughs wickedly as he circles an arm around your neck and shoves his free hand between your thighs; fingers massaging your sensitive clit. You try in vain to push his hand away from you.
Jeno, being your immovable mountain, continues his attack on you with no effort at all. He's a powerhouse, using any opportunity to subdue you; he gets off on watching you struggle to free yourself. You both get off on it.
"Daddy! Please, daddy... I can't... I-"
"Oh shut up- you fucking love this."
And he's right.
You do so nod and you sob and you relish in the tightening of his arm around your neck as he brings you closer to another nearly unbearable orgasm.
"Daddy!"
The word comes out as a plea and as a thank you. Jeno knows you appreciate this. He does too. He also knows that he's finally broken you and that if he goes on, you'll need the safeword so he does what made you fall in love with him in the first place:
He begins grounding you so he can put you back together until the next time.
"You did so well, kitten. We're gonna stop now, okay? Count down from ten with me, okay? I'm so proud of you."
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Winter's King 8
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: yo, work is driving me nuts.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Lady Jazlene, a queen by marriage, cries herself to sleep. You stay until she snores and snuff the candle as you leave her on her stomach atop the stuffed mattress. You emerge between the guards and wonder if they keep people out or keep her in. 
They don’t react to you. No one really does. A shadow approaches. The thickset man grunts at you as the moonlight shines off his dark mail. Bryce waits patiently as you near him. He turns and walks beside you in silence. 
Much of the camp is asleep. The only fires that remain are those of the soldiers on watch for marauders and bandits. Your soles kick loose pebbles and trample flattened grass further. You yawn as you reach the luggage carts and find the one you rode in. The grey horse is tie to the axle, dozing on its feet with puffing nostrils. 
“The road will not get any less turbulent,” Bryce warns as he grabs his bedroll from across his mount’s rump. “You will need sleep, maid.” 
“Thank you, sir,” you lift the canvas draped over the back of the wagon. 
He grumbles and unfurls his roll across the dirt. You climb up and nestle down beneath the cover, pressed against a chest as you curl up. You hear the soldier lay down with a groan, “...too sweet...” 
You close your eyes and rest your head on a bent arm. The darkness quickly swallows you up into slumber and the day fades into obscurity. You’re not conscious long enough to dread the one ahead. 
As the sun rises, heat gathers in the cart. You wake in a damp sweat, nearly suffocating as you gulp up cool air. You slip down onto your feet and grab onto the cart to keep from stumbling. Bryce grunts as your soles crunch on the ground. 
“Eh, where’re you off to?” He sneers. 
You look down at him. His eyes are still closed as his grey steed sniffs at the dirt close to him. 
“Sir, I... I haven’t... relieved myself since... erm, well...” 
“Go on, but not too far,” he opens his eyes and sits up. “Holler if you meet trouble.” 
The horse huffs into his steely hair and he pets its nose. He grabs onto its reins and hauls himself up. You quickly spin and flit away. You go off into the brush where its thick and squat down, your skirts gathered above your knees. You miss the springs behind the castle where you would bathe with the other maids, you could use a wash now. 
You finish up and peer over the stretch of bodies, horses, and carts. You set off back toward the cart and as you come in sight of Bryce, he unties a dented kettle from his saddles. You feel much better without the pressure beneath your guts.  
“I could fetch water,” you offer. 
He looks over his shoulder. You think you surprised him. 
“Quiet mouse,” he mutters and faces you, gripping the bent handle, “I can manage a potful of water.” 
“Yes, sir, I only was being helpful.” 
“You stay, take Daisy to find some fresh grass,” he points to the horse. 
“Daisy?” You look at the beast, “is that her name?” 
He shrugs and stalks off. You go to the reins and loose them. You glance around and lead her over to an unyellowed swath of grass. She dips her long neck and grazes, tearing the strands noisily as her teeth clack. You pet her ear as she comes rather close to the hem of your skirt. 
Heavy steps tramp up behind you. You don’t bother looking as you assume it’s Bryce. Those who are stirring are barely able to lift themselves out of their rolls. The lazy rise of dawn does not inspire fastidiousness as the clouds haze amber and rose. 
“Fine horse,” the king’s timbre rumbles over you. 
You turn and bow your head, “your highness.” 
He inhales through his nose before he speaks again, “are you a fast rider?” 
“I’ve never... I don’t ride, your highness,” you reply, staring at his black mail, just at the center of his chest. “It isn’t my horse.” 
“I know it, I thought perhaps...” he begins and shifts his weight in his boots, “you might’ve secreted away the mare. That you would be sick for your home.” 
“Your highness? No, I wouldn’t--” You put your hand to your apron, “I am not a thief.” 
He pauses and his thick fingers toy with his belt, fiddling with a leather purse, “that isn’t what I...” he blows out in exasperation, “I do not think you dishonest. In fact, you are the most honest creature I’ve met around here.” 
You keep your eyes down, “I only mean to feed the horse.” 
“Yes, I believe you,” he assures, his tone glum, “forgive my inference. Truly, it wasn’t intended as such.” 
“I understand, your highness,” you say. 
“It was a jape, a poor one, I suppose,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and turns to pace. “I wanted to thank you. I have yet to figure out how to handle Lady Jazlene but you keeping her company, I do appreciate it.” He stops and crosses his arms as he faces you again, “last night, what you heard and saw... we are strangers still, her and I.” 
“I am a maid, your highness, I serve the lady and you now,” you reply, “that’s all I do.” 
His arms bulge before he drops them, “yes, I suppose for you, the matters of nobility are dull.” 
“It is not of my concern, your highness,” you say, “I am to see that all the wine and food and little things are taken care of.”  
You peer up at the sky as the dimness slowly recedes. His figure looms below and he slowly treads closer. You squeeze the reins. 
“You serve the queen, the king, and... a horse,” he reaches to touch its snout, dragging his knuckles along its grey fur. “Make certain we are fed and content.” 
“Whatever is needed, your highness,” you answer and watch his hand stroke the horse. 
“And what do you need?” He asks. 
You quork your head and stick out your lip. It's an odd question. You have what you need. You have a place in the cart, you have some nuts left over from Bryce’s generosity, and you have some hours sleep behind you. 
“Nothing, I think,” you say. 
He scratches behind the horse’s ear, “and what do you want?” 
You purse your lips. You think. Another strange inquiry. What should you want? That’s not something anyone ever worried for. You only troubled after what others wanted. 
“I... I want to see the snow,” you say at last, “I think I dreamt of it but I can’t remember. I don’t really know what it would look like but I remember once Merinda spoke of it. She knew a stable hand who once lived in the north.” 
He’s quiet. Your answer isn’t very interesting. To him, the snows must be so tedious. Nothing more than ordinary. He makes a clicking noise. 
“I want to see the snow too,” he pulls his hand away from the horse and for a moment, he seems to reach for you, recoiling short of touching your grasp on the reins. He withdraws and presses his thumb to his teeth. He hums. “We have far to go before the snow...” he rasps, “should you require anything for the road ahead, you may ask.” 
“That is kind, your highness, but I don’t expect I require much,” you assure, “thank you.” 
“Mmm,” he drones as he faces the sunrise and sets his posture, “onward.” 
He marches away as you stay and watch Daisy munch on the grass. You comb your fingers through her main, loosening the tangles. When another approaches, you glance over. Bryce tidies his own hair with his hands. 
“Water is boiling, maid,” he declares, “I have some spare mint leaf for tea.” 
“Yes, sir, thank you,” you smile down at Daisy and move out of reach of her teeth. “I will stay with the horse until she is done.” 
“Hm, aye, I understand,” his forehead lines, “she is much more pleasant than I.” 
He nods and turns back the way he came. You watch after him as he goes to sit before the hanging kettle, a low flame burning beneath it. He rolls his shoulders and hunches forward as he plants his elbows on his knees. These people of the Hinterlands are not so cold as they pretend. 
⚔️
The long train continues through the lands. Some days slower than others. There are some where progress stops at midday in favour of passing through a village or approaching a nearby farm. The king departs from the larger party, riding with his soldiers to greet the commonfolk. Lady Jazlene refuses to accompany her husband in favour of her silk tent and wine. 
The pauses in your trek makes you curious; you only ever heard of King Waleran showing his face to the citizens during the harvest festivals and self-aggrandizing ceremonies. You never saw the king yourself, only heard Lord Dustan and his wife resentfully complain of how the king never made the journey to Debray. Did he not recall that once a duchess was married to his great-uncle? 
You spend the hours in Jazlene’s company. She wants her wine and mutton. You notice that her appetite for the former has grown since the first day’s travel. She even requested that some casks be sought during one of the king’s visits. He acted as if he did not hear her entreaty. Their few encounters since that first night have been terse and short, neither offering much more than a word or two. 
The queen swirls her cup, watching the motion of the wine within. She giggles and puts it down, picking up the looking glass and admiring herself. She sits on a wooden stool, her skirts dusted with the dirt of the road. Despite the filth, she insists on sporting a new gown each day, no matter how extravagant. 
“What a fool? To think he is wasting his time on commoners,” she trills, “you know, he should be here, worried about his wife and queen. Not married a week and all we’ve done is ride anon. I’ve had no wedding, no feast. How I am neglected for these dirty farmers.” 
You say nothing. You’re not certain she recalls you’re there. She speaks to herself often as if her mother is there. A few times, she has even called for the duchess. Often when she’s nearly finished the bottle. 
She pouts and sniffs. She drains the cup completely and puts it down heavily on the crate next to her. She grips the mirror with both hands and looks at her reflection. She contorts her face, sucking in her cheeks, pushing out her lips, turning her head this way and that. 
“Aren’t I beautiful?” She nearly whispers. You don’t flinch. You stare at your hem. She sighs and stomps her foot, “I’m asking you!” 
You peek up at her, surprised.  
“Yes, your highness, you are very beautiful.” 
She frowns, “you lie to me.” 
“I wouldn’t lie, your highness.” 
“Don’t argue with me,” she snarls and slams the mirror down, cracking the glass on the crate. She stands and blusters around, her skirts catching between her legs, “if I am beautiful, what makes me so, hm? Tell me!” 
You stare at her. She is beautiful. You always thought so.  
“Your hair, your curls, your highness, they are beautiful.” 
She rolls her eyes, “just my hair?” 
She wobbles slightly as she struts towards you. 
“Your eyes. They are pretty too. And you have a nicely set nose. And your lips are finely curved, your highness,” you explain as she looms closer and closer. 
“Hmph,” she stops, slouching drunkenly as she leans in to consider you, “of course you would say so. Look at you. So plain. An ugly handmaid.” 
You stare back at her, a strike in your chest, then drop your gaze. It is the wine. She huffs, her alcohol-laden breath tinging your nose. 
“The king,” she babbles as she turns on her heels, swaying dangerously, “we’ve only lain together our first night. It was... quick. He didn’t want me to sleep with him,” she raises a hand and flutters her fingers, “he shooed me away like some whore.” She spins and falls onto the stool, “if I am so beautiful, why does he not want me?” 
You watch her. She isn’t looking for your answer. She’s talking to talk. Lady Rezlyn isn’t there so she has only herself and stagnant air trapped in the tent. 
“It is my duty to have his babies. To give him heirs. I cannot do that if he will not touch me. But perhaps when are in one place, he might try again,” she smiles and lifts the broken mirror. She tilts it and lets her hand drift down to your bodice. She pushes her chest up, “when he lets me take this off, he will see. He will want me.” 
She convinces herself as she preens at her reflection, “perhaps it won’t hurt.” She looks around and sees the bottle of wine. She grabs it by the neck. She grips it and wiggles it at you in the air. “He’s even thicker than this,” she puts the mirror down and balances the bottle on her palm as she circles her fingers around the bottom of the bottles neck, just before it rounds out, “and longer.” 
You stare at the silk wall, mortified by her words. She giggles and the movement of her hand draws your eyes up. You watch from under your lashes as she brings her hands up and down the bottle neck. 
“Mother says, just like this,” she pumps it, “that he should like it very much.” She stops and focuses on the bottle, “mmm, he is a man underneath it all.” She tosses the bottle away, “and I am a beautiful woman. He will want me.” 
You lower your eyes again and twine your fingers together. You can’t help but feel bad for her. You only wish you had some words of wisdom or comfort to offer her. Or that she would hear them. You can’t help but touch the fading bruise along your stomach as you languish in the tepid silence. It’s better to let her forget you. 
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scoonsalicious · 2 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 4
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, medical procedures, Pocket getting called out on her shit, deep discussions, mentions of drug use and anonymous sex.
Word Count: 2.7k
Previously On...: You woke up in the hospital to some quite... surprising news.
A/N: LET THE HEALING SORT OF BEGIN! I AM READY FOR IT.
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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A few hours later, you were discharged with antibiotics to stave off any potential infection and over-the counter iron tablets to help replenish all the blood you’d lost. The car ride back to the safehouse was awkward in its heavy silence, the only words spoken between you and Bucky were when you asked to stop at the local pharmacy to buy out their stock of hydrogen peroxide. You’d need to tackle those blood stains in your bedroom before they had time to fully set.
As you walked in the door to the apartment, Bucky on your heels, you took in the space as he would be seeing it for the very first time– it was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn about, fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles littering every available surface. You watched his eyes as they raked over the mess, pausing to linger on the empty condom wrappers your last Bad Decision had left on the coffee table, next to the remnants of the coke you two had done.
“What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Did someone break in and trash the place while you were in the hospital?”
You grabbed a discarded bra from the back of an armchair, where Bad Decision #... something, had tossed it in his hurry to get at you. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” you grumbled defensively. 
Bucky laughed nervously. “What, so you’ve just been having random sex and getting drunk everyday?” The look he gave you was desperate, as though begging you to contradict him, to tell him it was all some sort of joke you were playing on him, but you just stood there in silence, not meeting his eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Pocket, this isn’t you,” Bucky exhaled. “None of this is who you are. What have you been doing  to yourself?”
“No,” you scoffed, “this is who you made me, Barnes. So, if you have a problem with what I’ve become, you’ve only got yourself to blame.” You opened your arms wide to encompass the entire apartment, and by extension, the evidence of your downward spiral. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions!”
“Fuck.” Bucky ran a tired hand down his face after a moment of stunned silence. “I did do this to you, didn’t I? God, I’m so sorry, Pocket. If I could take it back, I would. I know that’s just more empty words, and you’re probably sick of hearing them, but it’s the truth. Hurting you is the biggest regret of my life.”
“Yet, you keep doing it,” you said, sighing heavily. You flopped down on the couch, exhausted and sore. The nurse had warned you there’d be residual cramping, and had insisted that regular ibuprofen would take care of it, but you’d already had six-hundred milligrams and were still aching. You wondered briefly if you had any oxy left from the club, but decided that getting high in front of Bucky was probably not the smartest move you could make right now, so you opted to deal.
Bucky walked over and made a move like he was about to sit down next to you, but something caught his eye. Bending over, he ran a finger through the white powder residue on the coffee table, bringing it to his tongue to taste.
“Shit,” he said, making a face. “Pocket, is this cocaine?!”
“What are you, McGruff the Crime Dog?” you asked sarcastically, before realizing the reference was probably completely wasted on him. He just continued to stare at you expectantly. “So what if it is?” You asked with a shrug. 
“Since when do you do coke?” Bucky asked incredulously. You really didn’t like the way he was looking at you at the moment. Like he had opened the fridge, looking for a carton of milk, but instead found a giraffe in a three-piece suit.
“Since I ran out of oxy,” you said nonchalantly. “And molly.”
A change came over Bucky’s features, and you watched them go hard, judging. “You’ve been doing all this– the drinking, the drugs, sleeping around with god knows who, while you’ve been pregnant?! What? It wasn’t enough to kill our baby, you had to try to kill yourself in the process? Do you know how absolutely fucking stupid you’re being?!” He was shouting at you now, the anger he’d been holding at bay since the hospital coming out in full force. 
You stood back up, taking in a shuddering breath. You hadn’t expected him to blow up at you so unexpectedly. “I didn’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”
“Would it have made a fucking difference?” he roared. “You already admitted you would have aborted it if you had known! Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have risked the baby’s health– your health– even if you did know?”
You didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know,” you whispered.
“Pocket,” the anger seemed to leave Bucky almost as quickly as it had come, “if you hadn’t gotten medical attention right when you did, you could have died. You could have bled out, gone into septic shock. This miscarriage could have fucking killed you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To Sam and Steve? Nat, Wanda, Pepper? What it would have done to fucking Tony?” You were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. In your spiral, you hadn’t considered for a moment what your actions would have meant to the people who loved you. You only cared about forgetting your own pain. 
“When you were getting dressed to come home, I asked the nurse what could have caused the miscarriage. One of the things she mentioned was heavy drug use, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I thought ‘no, not my Pocket, she’s too smart to do something so incredibly dumb; has to be something else.’ But here you are, throwing your entire life away. And for what? Some cheap thrills? And now, you’ve gone and lost a baby and you don’t even care!”
It was too much. His words were getting to be too much, and you were dangerously close to losing it. “Of course I fucking care!” you sobbed, the damn breaking and setting free a flood of tears you’d been pretending weren’t just waiting to spill. “I had our baby– ours, yours and mine– and I fucking lost it because I needed to forget how much pain I was in! How much you fucking made me hurt! It’s been almost two months and I still want to die when I think about you with her. I want to fucking die.”
Bucky’s arms were around you as you collapsed into him, gasping for air between choking sobs. “I close my eyes, and it’s all I can see,” you wailed. “I’ve fucked so many men trying to forget about you, to feel anything besides despair, but all they do is remind me of what I’m missing, what I lost. All the drinking, the drugs, all the sex– I just wanted to forget, to have a few minutes where I could pretend my life wasn’t ruined, that the best thing I ever had hadn’t been stolen away from me!”
Bucky held you tighter, rubbing soothing patterns into your back in an attempt to calm you. “And I just keep losing,” you cried. “I lost you, I lost our baby, I lost Chloe.”
If Bucky wondered who Chloe was, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him and wiping the tears from your cheeks, “you haven’t lost me. I’m still right here. I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t deserve it, but I’m always going to be here, no matter what. And, okay, you lost this baby. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for another.”
“I don’t want someone else’s baby,” you told him, wiping at the tears that just wouldn’t stop coming, and choosing to completely ignore the fact that you’d lost him in every way that actually mattered. “This was the only chance for our baby, and I destroyed it! It’s the universe’s way of telling me I’m not supposed to be a mother.”
“Why the fuck would you think that?” Bucky asked accusingly. “What makes you think you wouldn’t be an amazing mom?”
You let out a hard laugh through your tears. “What the fuck do I know about being a mother?” you asked him bitterly. “It’s not like I had a shining example of one growing up. All I know how to do is push people away. To make them not love me.” That was the sick truth, your exhausted brain and broken heart were telling you in the moment: your biological father, your mother, Bucky. All of them had turned from you, had pulled their love at the first opportunity. A logical part of your brain would have known this wasn’t the case, and that you had so many more people who did love you, but you weren’t running on logic right now.
“Stop,” Bucky begged, voice cracking. “That’s not true. Sweetheart, that’s not true. You are so damn easy to love, I fell for you immediately. I know you don’t believe it, but I never stopped loving you. I’m never gonna stop loving you.”
“Then why, Bucky?” you cried, clinging to him, desperate for an answer that made sense. “Why did you do this to me?”
Bucky pulled you down onto the couch with him, cradling you in his lap. He gently rocked you back and forth. “Because I’m broken, sweets. I’m broken, and I’m stupid, and I let my anger get the best of me. I was so convinced that you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve you, that I sabotaged us to prove myself right. But none of that is worth seeing you like this. None of that was worth putting you through all the hurt I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I say can undo it. Nothing I do is gonna change what happened, fix the damage I did to you. All I can do is show you that it’s never gonna happen again, whether or not you ever end up forgivin’ me. There’s never gonna be another girl for me, and if you never want me again, that’s okay; I’ll understand. I deserve it and I’ll learn to live with it, but it’s not gonna change how I feel. You’ll be the last girl I’ll ever make love to, even if you decide you never wanna give me another chance.”
You weren’t sure what to say to that. Simply because you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to give him another chance. But that reminded you– there was something you wanted to address with him.
“I’m sorry,” you told him softly. 
Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you sorry about, doll? I’m the one who should be spending the rest of their life apologizin’ to you.”
You turned away from him. “I’m sorry about what Hydra did to you,” you said. When he didn’t say anything, you went on: “I, uh, asked Sam,” you continued. “About what you’d told me with the sparring and how you get… excited.” You felt him still beneath you, but didn’t want to lose your nerve. “I’m sorry that I doubted that they put you through that kind of abuse, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. And… I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I was a safe person you could share that part of your past with.”
Bucky let out an agonizingly slow breath. “Sweets,” he began, “it was never about feeling like you weren’t a safe place for me to be open about it. Not once.”
You took in a shuddering breath, hating that you were making this moment, in a way, about you. “But… you told Steve, and Sam and– and… her. But you didn’t tell me.” You risked a glance at him, afraid he was going to be angry at you, but all you saw was patience in his eyes. “I must have said or done something that made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me, and whatever that was, I’m sorry.”
Bucky shook his head sadly and rubbed his human hand up and down your back. “No, baby.” He exhaled. “It was never like that. I didn’t tell you, because I was ashamed.”
You raised your eyes and gave him a questioning look.
“I could tell Sam, and Steve, and even Carthage, because I didn’t give a shit if they thought I was… fucked up… sexually. It didn’t matter what they thought about it, because, well, I wasn’t trying to impress them, to make them want me, want to be with me. But you?” He brought his vibranium hand up to cup your face, turning it so you were looking at him. “I didn’t want you lookin’ at me and thinkin’ that I was broken, that I didn’t… didn’t work right in the way I wanted you the most. I’d never be able to stand it. I was just so ashamed and embarrassed; and I couldn’t stand the thought of you lookin’ at me the way I looked at myself.”
“Barnes,” you offered with a small, small smile, “I have never, not once, even considered you were broken, sexually. Not before I found out, and certainly not after. In fact, I’ve spent the last two months desperately trying to make myself forget just how not fucked up you are in that department.”
Bucky cleared his throat. “Just, uh, outta curiosity, sweets, how many attempts at forgetting are we talking about here?”
You scrunched up your mouth. “You seriously want to know how many guys I’ve fucked since we broke up, Barnes?”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders in a completely failed attempt at seeming nonchalant. “Like I said, just curious. What are we talking… like, two? Three?”
You snorted. Multiply that by ten, you thought. “You really don’t want to know, Barnes. Trust me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “More than three?!”
You shrugged awkwardly. “It’s really not any of your business, Bucky.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not. I just can’t stand the fucking thought of someone else putting their hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth. 
You raised a brow and gave him a sarcastic look. “Hypocrite much?” you asked, though there was no bite behind your words. 
Bucky lowered his head, not meeting your gaze. “Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, huh, doll? Well, can’t say it’s not fucking bitter, or that I don’t deserve it.”
“I didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting you,” you told him, feeling your tears start to build again. “I did it to get over you. To forget you.”
He brushed a tear from your lashes. “Did it work, doll?” he asked, voice low. “Did you forget? Are you over it?”
You hadn’t. Of course you fucking hadn’t. But you didn’t want him knowing that. Not fully; it was enough though, knowing that he’d felt even a fraction of the jealousy you’d felt. “Hard to say,” you told him, instead. “Maybe the twenty-ninth time’ll be the charm.”
Bucky spluttered and gasped for breath. “TWENTY-NINTH TIME?!? Are you telling me you’ve fucked twenty-eight pieces of shit since you’ve been down here?!” Almost as soon as his frustration burst from him itself, it had died out. “Not my business,” he said, though you could tell he was struggling. 
You’d had enough tormenting him for the night, so you snuggled further into his chest. “Not a single one of them made me forget for a second,” you told him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. Bucky chuffed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you felt a hint of the safety you used to feel with him. It was small, but it was there, a tiny ember in a fire you’d feared had long died out. With a rattling sigh, you rested your head against his chest as he continued to rock you, and soon, you were lulled asleep to the sound of his steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat.
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
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mauvecherie-writes · 2 days
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Sorry yeah but the way you readers get spoiled on here is INSANE. I’m just gonna use them as an example of an ongoing issue on tumblr but I was going through @laneywrld’s notes bc I was re-reading her latest LH fic and it’s all likes and just two comments: one reblog/comment from me and one more in the comment section.
The fic is 7.7K words and you’re telling me only TWO people out of 153 notes were able to verbalise how they enjoyed the work??? Do you know long it takes to write 7.7k words ???? Let alone 1K???
This isn’t an issue with just the LH/F1 space for black writers who do x black!reader but MOST black authors in this app. They put out some good ass work to get CRICKETS back. Hell even me sometimes. I’m at the point where I know who exactly is going to comment bc they’re so consistent in their showing up for me and I try to do that for other authors I enjoy here.
But bloody hell, for the majority of readers - yall give nothing and it’s honestly so exhausting to watch and see my moots on here be demotivated about writing anymore because readers who say are engaged not be actively engaged with your work? I don’t know how many times writers have to ask people to comment and reblog on their work because that’s more motivating than just a like! Hell, dropping into their ASK BOX to rant about a character or a story is far more engaging than a like.
I don’t know how many times we keep having to circle back to this conversation. At the end of the day we’re doing all of this for free - it’s the bare minimum we ask. Rant over.
Do better by your fave writers 🩷
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thebestofoneshots · 11 hours
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: ANGST! Use of the unforgivables, bIood, major and minor character dеath, major sad moments, mental breakdowns, taking characters to their breaking point, pain, griеf… I’m really sorry. Prompt: What happens when you hear something dreadful happening, will you stand up for what's right? Will you stay quiet for the greater good? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp
A/N: This chapter is getting shadowbanned no matter what I change so please like, reblog and comment so it does not go under the radar.
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Chapter 44: No One But You 
A hand above the water An angel reachin' for the sky Is it raining in Heaven? Do you want us to cry?
Where the hell is the alcohol in this party? You wondered as you stepped out of the room, dealing with Arkalis and Evan was more than enough for the rest of the night. If only you could find a corner, pull out a book and focus on that without being bothered by anything or anyone else, you’d be satisfied. Of course, that could not be the case, could it? 
“Well look who’s here?” Barty said with a smile as he blocked your path. 
“Oh, Barty!” you said as you tilted your head. “You should probably go look for Evan, he seemed like he needed… a friend.” 
Barty’s eyes seemed to burn when you spoke, but you stood your ground, even as he approached you with ferocity. He might be as tall as you were, even if younger, and he might have been able to overpower you in the past, but he was not about to make a scene in the middle of the party, he wasn’t dumb, he had never been. And clearly, he wasn’t important enough for the deatheater clique to be at the private dinner, he didn’t need unwanted attention. 
“If you did something to him again…” he said, voice low and threatening.
You blinked calmly at him, “Barty… in this party, you should be careful with the things that come out of your mouth.” He grabbed onto your wrist, anger clearly seething from him. “I didn’t touch him,” you said as you looked down at his hand and then back at his face, “I’d suggest you’d have the decency of doing the same.” 
Then you felt a hand on your shoulder, Barty finally let go of his hold on you but stayed in his place, glaring now at the person standing behind you. 
“And I would suggest you turn the fuck away before I hex you again. Remember where you are Crouch. This might be Arkalis’ dinner, but my father was the one to invite Tom here.” 
Barty gave you another look of hatred and then stormed off. You sighed and turned back to look at Regulus. 
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, eyebrows softly knit in concern.
“No,” you said as you shook your head and moved your hand a little bit, it was the same arm Evan had latched onto you earlier, but frankly, after having fallen from your broom, punched by bludgers, dragged by water spirits and scratched by werewolves, this felt like nothing. “Is there Firewhiskey here?”
“Firewhiskey?” Regulus asked in disbelief. “You want to drink?” 
“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never sneaked out Firewhiskey from your father’s stash.” Regulus gave you a look in return that was answer enough. “So, you’ve never drunk?” 
He shook his head and you laughed at that, “Such a good boy,” you teased. In response, Regulus pushed you to the side, which only made you laugh a little more. “Let’s find some,” you said with a smile, Regulus tilted his head to the side disapprovingly. 
“It’s a terrible idea to do it here,” he responded. 
“Come on, Reg, there’s no way you want to see whatever the hell those people consider to be a show, do you?” 
Regulus averted your gaze, and you narrowed your eyes at him. Does he know something…
A glass of cold water over your dress diverted your thoughts. “Oh, sorry,” the girl said, she had a streak of white hair pulled back behind her ears and looked far from being sorry. 
Your dress was black, so whatever she had poured, certainly didn’t ruin the look, even if it was fucking freezing you now, “Whatever, I’ll just use a drying spell,” you said as you pulled your wand out and waved it over your dress. 
“You’re Silas’ daughter, aren’t you? You were sitting next to Lucius at the dinner.” 
You turned to her with a small frown, she was the girl talking to Barty earlier, the one that looked like Sirius and Regulus. You extended your hand politely, “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.” 
She seemed irritated at your lack of recognition. “This is my cousin Narcissa, Cygnus’ daughter,” Reggie said, introducing her to you.  
Cygnus’ daughter… Where had you heard that name? Right, Andromeda’s sister, you thought. You hadn’t spoken much to Andromeda Tonks, though Sirius and Remus had shown you some of her letters. As far as you knew, she had been kicked out of the family in the same way Sirius had, and her sisters had done nothing to help them. But then again, Regulus hadn’t helped Sirius either and you didn’t hate him for that. 
“Nice to meet you,” you added, she gave you a look before actually shaking your hand. 
“You’re dating Sirius,” she added, her tone making it clear that she looked down on you for it. 
“Cissy,” Regulus said in a warning tone. 
“I am, he’s delightful, you should know since you grew up together.” 
She scoffed. “Sirius is a disaster. He would always spark chaos and make stupid pranks on the parties, I’m glad he’s not invited anymore. He wears that awful leather jacket all the time, pretending to be a muggle or whatever and he’s insufferably loud.” 
“All of which I find absolutely charming,” you replied with a nonchalant smile, “You do not?” 
Cissy, as Regulus called her, scoffed again. “Just stay away from Lucius,” she added before leaving you and Regulus behind in favour of talking with someone else, her long hair flipping behind her in a rather majestic way that you would have praised had she not been a total bitch to Sirius. It must be in their genes, you thought, the Blacks have amazing hair.
You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “The hell was that about?” 
“Lucius is her fiancé, she must have seen you talking to him at the dinner,” Regulus said. “You… looked very interested in whatever he was telling you.” 
“Oh, that?” You asked with a smile that turned into a smirk, “I was trying to piss Evan off.” 
“I figured.” 
“Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an offence.” Regulus raised his eyebrows at you and you gasped in disbelief. Then you spotted someone serving themselves a drink over in the far corner, it was the bar. You smirked, “Come on Reg, I’ll teach you how to drink.” 
“I don’t need to–” 
“Just come,” you added and pulled him along with you, you managed to convince the house elf there to give you a half-empty bottle of Fire Whiskey after telling them Arkalis had asked you to take them to him and pulled Reggie along towards a balcony. 
“It’s cold,” he said as the two of you stepped out, you could see the puff of condensed air blowing from his mouth as he spoke. 
“This’ll warm you up,” you said as you offered him the bottle. He gave you an exasperated look that was an awful lot like Sirius’ but took the bottle in his hands anyway, taking a small sip and scrunching up his face as he felt the bitter taste. Then he coughed and covered his mouth with his arm as he returned the bottle to you with a disgusted frown, you were laughing so much it took you a second to lean closer to him and place your hand on his back. “You all right?” 
“No wonder they call it Firewhiskey,” he said as he managed to catch his breath. You laughed again, still rubbing your hand over his back, he shook his head as he stood straight. He was a deal taller than you now, it hadn’t quite settled back in school, but it was evident now. “Why would you even drink it?” 
“Do you not feel warmer?” you asked as with a raised eyebrow, he seemed to think about it for a second. You were now taking your own sip of the bottle. 
“A warming spell would for sure do the trick.” 
You sighed and leaned over to look at the sky, you could see Sirius’ star up there, shiny and beautiful, just like him. Walburga and Orion might have been awful, but they definitely had a good eye for picking out names, even if they were just copying those of the stars. 
“Yeah, but it would take away the fun,” you said, head still tilted up and looking at the sky. You heard a few whispers from the inside, and you leaned your head over the window, there were people crowding a certain area of the room. Regulus stepped in between you and the window. 
“How’s school going?” 
You gave him a look, that was a stupid question. 
“I mean, I saw you at the Slug Party, you’ve been doing good at potions, haven’t you?” he pressed. 
“Haven’t I?” you asked with a frown, allowing your gaze to turn back to him. “It’s all thanks to my partner, he’s really good?” 
“Sirius?” Regulus asked, he had never heard of his brother being remarkably good at potions. 
“What? No, my potions partner, Remus.” 
“Ah… of course,” he said, now he had heard how good his brother’s best friend was. He was even a prefect. 
“But I’m shit at transfiguration,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t think Minnie and Horace are friends enough to discuss such things, though.” 
“I could teach you,” he offered. 
“Thanks, but I’ve already got a tutor.” You tilted your head to the side to try and see inside and then he moved, blocking your line of sight again. “Regulus?” 
“Yeah?” he asked, playing dumb. 
“You know what’s happening there, don’t you?” 
He swallowed thickly, “Nothing you should be concerned about, it’s adult stuff.” You shook your head as that and motioned to move inside but he stopped you again. “Please!” He sounded desperate. “Let’s stay here, and drink a bit more, I’m… I’m not looking forward to seeing my parents again.” 
You sighed, you knew how delicate it was for both Regulus and Sirius to deal with Walburga and Orion, and perhaps you shouldn’t have listened, you should have followed your instinct and walked inside, but there was something about the pleading expression Regulus had made that convinced you. You huffed out a breath and turned back to him. “How’s school for you? Messing with Severus didn’t put you on the spot, did it?” 
Regulus shook his head and carefully moved to the side, pulling his wand from his pocket and secretly casting a spell towards the doors so the sounds from the inside wouldn’t filter to the outside. You were looking at his face, so determined to figure out his emotions that you failed to notice what he was doing.   
“Not at all,” he responded. “Severus thinks it was all your fault.” 
You pouted at that, “How could it even be my fault, he’s the one that ate the snacks, I didn’t even offer them to him.” 
Regulus laughed at that, “So you had nothing to do? No emotional manipulation involved?” 
“What do you take me for? A housemate?” 
“Haven’t you been saying you ‘missed the whole indoctrination’ part by getting to Hogwarts so late?” 
“Doesn’t change the fact the snakes can be very manipulative. You know the muggles think they’re to blame for losing paradise.” 
Regulus huffed as he shook his head, he was just proving your point right then and there, “Well, I’ve never met a snake with ‘Vixen’ as a nickname.” 
“You know about that?” you asked in disbelief. “How do you even know about that?” 
“The entire school knows about that! Potter isn’t exactly subtle when he calls you. To be honest, I thought he was pissed the first time I heard it, and then I was surprised you weren’t insulted by it.” 
“It’s an inside joke.” 
“I could tell,” he responded and then smirked, almost imperceptibly, “I think it fits.” 
“Ass,” you said with a laugh and pushed him lightly. He laughed along with you. 
Talking with Regulus was fun, he told you more about the Slytherin common room, he mentioned seeing the giant squid through their window once when he was in his second year studying for a quiz late at night, and he told you about the time he had done the quidditch trials, back when Dorcas was still in the team. He asked you about the race, and you told him that’s when you and Sirius got together. 
You also told him about some of the fun things you had done with the boys, like picnics near the lake and even sneaking out at night to get books from the forbidden section. He asked you to teach him the disillusionment charm one day, and you promised you would. 
While the rest of his family was a piece of work, you thought Regulus had come out as nice as Sirius, even if a little more stuck up. You didn’t mind though, it was part of his own charm. He’d make a great brother-in-law…
“And then Solacis added the last ingredient of the potion, and it blew up on their faces…” he told you with a smile, mimicking the explosion with his own hands. The alcohol had warmed his cheeks and made him a lot more expressive by now. You laughed along with him. 
“Yeah? And what did Slughorn do?” 
“Nothing, he was being distracted by Nox so they wouldn’t fail the both of us,” he explained. “Nox added dragon breath to his potion and it clogged the entire classroom with purple smoke.” 
“For real?” 
He nodded excitedly, it was nice to see Regulus more relaxed, “Nox thought it was amazing and tried switching the ingredients around, he now knows how to make smoke of almost any colour, we’ve used it on parties so many times since then.” 
“I had no idea Nox was that into potions…” 
“Oh, he loves them! Slughorn doesn’t like him too much though, he’s always doing his own experiments in the back of the classroom instead of focusing on the class, and often ends up changing the potions around and–” a harrowing scream cut through his words. 
Your head snapped towards the inside and Regulus blinked a couple of times. His spell! It had worn out. 
But I’m not that drunk, he thought, he was certainly having fun, but that was just a consequence of hanging out with you.
“What the hell was that?” you asked as you looked inside, but he stood in between you and the door in a second.
You gave Regulus a stern look but he shook his head really fast, he looked nervous, like a kid that had done something terrible and didn’t want his parents to find out. 
“Regulus,” you said as you tried to look over his shoulder, but he moved to block your sight again. “Regulus, what’s going on?” 
“Nothing. You… you don’t want to know, just trust me.” It was more a plea than anything else. 
You took a step back, “Have you been distracting me?”  
Regulus swallowed and then nodded, “I’m sorry.” 
“Why?” You asked, voice dry. 
“I don’t want you to see what’s happening in there.” 
“And…” 
“Your mum might have implied I’d be better this way as well.” 
You nodded, you weren’t angry at Regulus, at this point you understood why he did most of the things he did, and you knew whatever he was doing now, it was because he wanted to protect you from his parents and whatever it was they were doing. 
“Will you tell me what’s happening inside?” 
“Will you promise not to enter if I do?” 
You sighed, “You know I cannot do that, Reg.” 
“It’s dangerous.” 
“Yeah?! For me or for the person screaming?” 
“If you do anything reckless–” 
You squared your shoulders, determined. “Regulus, let me in.” 
He didn’t move. You tried to move to the side and he moved along with you, effectively blocking your way again, you scoffed, slightly exasperated. 
“Regulus, I–” You were interrupted by another harrowing screaming, and then a silence so eerie it chilled your very bones. You looked at him, straight in the eyes, his eyes were red-rimmed and shiny, you were about to ask him what the hell was going on when a cheer erupted from the inside. All of the wizards were clapping, as if whatever had happened was cause for celebration. 
Regulus winced at that which only made you worry more about what was happening inside. 
“You don’t need to see that, trust me,” he repeated. Thunder came from above and then a smokey green skull appeared in the sky. There was a snake protruding from its mouth, slowly swirling around the skull. You swallowed, you knew exactly what that was, Seraphina had shown you pictures, and she had told you that one of the reasons they’d cast that spell was because… they had just murdered a muggle. 
You swallowed thickly, the scream, the silence, the cheering. It all made sense now. They had been tоrturing someone and you had been distracted, you weren’t even given the chance to stop it. But then again, could you have stopped it? One person –nay, a 6th year– against an entire army of deatheaters, you might have been a good duelist, but you weren’t narcissistic enough to believe you could take them all down by yourself
Perhaps it really was better to be out here, avoiding the reality that was inside and hanging out with the one person in this entire party that you’d actually want to talk to. You didn’t appreciate being tricked, you hated that Regulus had decided to keep you in the dark, but at the same time, you were thankful. He had spared you from having to witness whatever horrors were being committed inside. 
You were just a kid, why was it your responsibility to stop it? Why was it your war to fight? It was fucking unfair. 
“Trust me,” Regulus said, “stay here, it’s better this way.” 
You swallowed, and there was another scream, you shut your eyes and turned your gaze to the side, you could feel tears prickling in your eyes. 
“It’s not your fault, you won’t be able to do anything, even if you witness it.” 
You turned back to look at him, your teeth pressed so hard against each other it hurt, “They’re kiIling muggles,” you whispered. 
Regulus sighed, his eyes were just as glassy as yours, “We can’t do anything about it.” 
You huffed and looked at nowhere in particular. There was another scream, and then another one, and then there was silence and cheers. You sank down to the floor, the snake in the sky was still crawling around. Your breath was slow and controlled as if you were trying to keep it together. The first scream, you couldn’t have blamed yourself for it. The first one out? You had no idea. But this one? 
You already knew what was happening and chose to stay outside with Regulus. You chose to ignore it and an innocent had diеd. Were you any different from your father now? He had sacrificed Sirius and Regulus for his political means –and he hadn’t even gotten them kiIled– and now you were letting those innocent people diе. 
For what? To be the perfect daughter? To play the part they asked you to play and then pretend like nothing had happened? To write a letter to Nightshade and Dumbledore telling them everything that had happened tonight and becoming a valuable asset? A spy? Was that what you wanted to be? Was that what you were meant to do? Was it worth it to let all these people diе, in order to win the war in the future? Were lives exchangeable like that? One life for a hundred, does that… make it worth it? 
There was another harrowing scream and then silence and then more cheers. You dug your head on your knees. 
You
Were
Heinous
As much as you considered your father to be.
Was stopping a war, winning a war, any different from the way he coveted power? Was it any difference in doing things for the greater good to doing things for power if the casualties were exactly the same? People were dying, and you were too much of a coward to do anything about it. Hiding behind a mask of righteousness and pretending it was all for the greater good –It was, but it didn’t feel right.
Sacrificing innocents was never okay, not even for the greater good, and yet… you were here, crouching on the floor, and wishing you were somewhere else, wishing you hadn’t heard that first scream, and that Regulus was still telling you about Nox and how good he was in potions and so on. You wanted to feel like things were normal, like there wasn’t a war; like you were a normal teen, not one being trained to be a soldier, a spy, a warrior.  
Was it selfish to wish for all of this to go away? To wish to be elsewhere? Were you selfish? And if you were then, for what? 
For letting innocents diе or for wishing you were ignorant about it? 
There it was, the eerie silence again. And then a wicked laugh. “Would you look at that? the little witch has claws?” 
The what she said?
 You turned your head to Regulus and the look he gave you in return made you instantly know that whatever was going on inside was as much of a surprise to him as it was to you. 
“Reg wha– What does she mean by witch?” 
“I–” he stuttered and turned to look back, there wasn’t much he could see, except for Bella’s black hair bouncing around as she said something else. “I’m not sure but–” 
“Filthy mudblood!” the same voice roared and then there were screams. 
But there was something about those screams, they were different from the rest… And not because it was a witch but because… you gasped when the realisation hit you –you knew that person.
“Nina,” you whispered. 
“What?” Regulus asked, confused. 
“That’s Nina!” you repeated as you stood up and tried to get inside. 
Regulus squared his shoulders to block your path, and then gently placed his hand on your arm, “There’s nothing you can do, forget it.” 
“They have kilIed muggles, Regulus. What’s stopping them from doing the same thing to her?” 
Regulus shook his head, “You cannot intervene, even if you know her.” 
“Even if I– Regulus, Nina’s my friend! Like you, like James! I would intervene for you, even if it did nothing.” 
“It would be stupid,” he replied, there were tears in his eyes, you could tell his mental struggle ran as deep as yours.  
“If it were me, would you just wait and let me diе?” 
Regulus closed his mouth, looking down while not being able to give you an answer. You weren’t sure you wanted to hear it either way. 
“Let me through, please.” 
“I wouldn’t let you diе,” he said, panic filling his voice, he felt like he had to reassure you, he wasn’t the evil one here, he just wanted to protect you. “But I’ve known you for years, you’re my brother’s girlfriend, it’s different,” his voice was filled with panic. 
“It’s not different for me,” you said as you shook your head, a sombre tone adorning your words. 
“I can’t let you go in,” he replied, his voice breaking towards the end. “I’m sorry.” 
You pulled him into a hug, you could sense him relax into your hug the second you did. She understands, he thought. 
 “I’m sorry too,” you whispered with a sad smile, he didn’t have enough time to react, “Petrificus totalus.” 
You caught him as he fell, his entire body leaning onto yours as you tried to hold him from hitting the ground. Regulus was a lot heavier than he looked but you managed to open the door again and drag him back inside. You smiled awkwardly at the person who spotted the two of you and lifted the bottle as an excuse. If they thought Reggie was passed out drunk, they wouldn’t think you’d charmed him to get in. The person nodded as if completely understanding and you dragged Reggie to a chair. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, accommodating him to look asleep. 
And then you walked as fast as you could towards her screams. 
It took all your strength not to break down at the sight, there were people –not people, their bodies– on the floor. They weren’t covered with bIood or anything like that, it wasn’t gory, it was just… harrowing. At least 7 of them, all of them on the floor, horrified expressions on their faces. They probably had no idea why they were there and had been hexed and tоrtured till the light escaped his eyes.
The scene enraptured you so much the screams in the background almost faded out, especially when you saw someone you instantly recognized. The lady at Kings Cross, the one that had hugged Nina, she was there too, you sobbed. You had allowed that to happen, you had allowed them to kilI Nina’s mum because you were too scared to intervene. 
“Crucio!” you heard the woman scream again. 
You turned your face away from them and towards the turmoil, there were many people crowding around her and Nina, so many that you could barely see the top of her blonde hair, and the only reason you knew Nina was still there was because of her screams. You spotted Tom, Arkalis and the man you now knew as Rodolphus Lestrange all sitting and chatting at a faraway table as if none of it was happening. Tom would often turn to see what was going on, smile and then go back to the conversation with a pleased expression.  
You shuddered and tried to find a way through the people. You had to push a few wizards around and got an angry elbow shoved in the rib at some point but you pressed on. Eventually, you reached the edge of the circle, and you had to hold back the tears threatening to spill out as your young friend squirmed, her long hair sprawled all over the floor, and tears in her eyes. She had her mouth determinedly closed and her brows furrowed, she was trying to resist screaming again, all to avoid giving the woman the satisfaction. 
“I’ll find a way to help you,” you mumbled as you looked around for possible solutions. If you had had more time perhaps you could have used a mist bomb to create a commotion, if you had more time to think of a solution, perhaps you would have burned the curtains down with incendio or caused some other kind of distraction to drive people away from Nina and sneak her out. But you had no time, and your mind was filled with the stress of seeing poor Nina on the floor, with that heart-wrenching expression on her face, and the soft whimpers that she couldn’t help but let out as she continued holding her cries and the woman with curly hair twisted her wand to inflict more pain. 
If you had acted earlier, if you hadn’t let fear and cowardice drive you away from the incident, perhaps things wouldn’t have ended up the way they had, but you had been selfish, and you were now facing the consequences of your own decisions, them being mainly the mental strain and the stupidity of the action you were about to commit. 
“CRUCIO!” the woman shrieked again. “Come on luv, don’t be shy, we want to hear your cries.” 
She twisted her wand and Nina let out an agonising cry. This can’t continue, she’s not gonna last. 
“Come on little mudblood, cry louder!” the woman said, enjoying herself so much you felt like you wanted to puke. “Entertain us!”
You stepped forward, “Stop!” You shouted. 
The woman turned to you and, surprised you had spoken and twisted her wand again, Nina cried, but the moment she spotted you, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. 
You raised your wand at her, “I said STOP!” 
“Silas’ daughter?” she asked, clearly diverted. “Thought you were snogging my little cousin Regulus somewhere in a corner.” 
You held her gaze, “Last warning,” you added. 
She laughed haughtily in return, “You think you could do anything to me? What are you? A 4th year?”
You were so focused on the woman and Nina, that you weren’t paying attention to the things surrounding you, at least you had gotten her attention enough to have her stop torturing Nina, who was now struggling to catch her breath. 
In the far corner, Orion and Tom had turned to look at the scene with a perturbing interest, as if they wanted to see the bIoodshed that your stupid disobedience would cause. Evan had gripped onto Barty’s forearm and pulled him away from the circle and both of your parents were rushing towards you as fast as you could, but the crowd, which seemed just as interested in the situation, was making it harder for them to reach you. 
“None of your fucking business,” you replied. She turned her wand back to Nina and you stepped in her way in two long strides, she laughed again. 
“You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you? There’s no way a Slytherin would be so recklessly stupid.” 
“Let her go,” you said sternly. “She’s a witch, just like you.” 
The woman laughed again. “She’s as much of a witch as the rest of them,” she said with a smile and pointed at the pile of bodies behind her, “Muggle-borns are abominations that shouldn’t exist. So weak they need real wizards to defend them, don’t they, Luv?” She said the last bit looking at Nina, she was still on the ground, eyes shiny with unshed tears but she held her head high. 
“I’m only making things even,” you replied, “do you really feel superior when you need thirty-plus wizards for torturing a 14-year-old?” 
The woman scoffed, “Do you even know who you’re talking to?” 
“No, but I bet I can guess,” you replied. “Dark curly hair, pretty but dеadly, a little crazy –I assume due to inbreeding– and you were sitting next to Rodolphus, which makes you one of Cygnus’ daughters. I met Narcissa today, and you’re definitely not Andromeda, which leaves out… Saiph? No wait, wrong star, it’s Bella, isn’t it?” 
She gave you a deranged smile, “Bellatrix.”
“Yeah, whatever,” you responded. “Now let’s leave this nonsense behind, and–” 
“Crucio,” she said pointing her wand behind you, Nina cried again. 
“Stop!” you shrieked. “Confringo!”
Bella barely managed to stop your spell and turned to you with rage, “Can someone take care of her?” she asked to no one in particular. Suddenly there were several wands pointing your way, but no one cast a spell. No one was brave enough to attack Silas’ daughter directly. 
Bella smiled and pointed her wand towards you, “Expelliarmus,” she said with a smile, your wand left your hand faster than you could react. 
She gave you a wicked grin as she pointed her wand at Nina again. She looked like she couldn’t take another moment of it, and you were running out of ideas. “Stop! I have a better prey for you.” 
Your father said your name sternly as if he could read your thoughts. 
You ignored it completely, “Why bother with a muggle-born when you could be torturing someone who’s mixed-race.” 
Your father screamed your name again, but Bella seemed interested enough to lower her wand and look at you, she wanted to know whose life you’d propose instead of Nina’s. 
“A mixed-race you said? Whoever could that be?” 
“Me!” you said and took a short breath, “I’m part-fairy.” Several gasps echoed in the room followed by whispers of the crowd.
“She’s lying!” your father spat.
“I am not!” You added quickly. 
“She’s trying to buy time.” 
“I can prove it!” you said desperately. “Use diffindo,” you told one of the people next to you. 
“Do not dare to touch my daughter!” your father roared. 
You looked around, trying to find Barty or Evan, since you knew neither of them would think twice before hurting you, but they were nowhere to be seen. Worst time to be fucking absent, you thought. No one dared to do it. 
“Fine then, bunch of cowards,” you said looking around before bringing your arm to your mouth. You had never done this, but you had practised half transfigurations, you focused all your energy on your mouth and managed to turn your canines into Vixen’s, and then you bit onto your skin and dragged your arm, slicing through it, you didn’t even wince. 
“That proves nothing,” Your father said. He was still trying to reach where you were.
“No, it doesn’t,” you responded. You could feel the metallic taste of your bIood in your mouth, you wondered if you looked as deranged as Bella did now. “But this will,” you said and focused your gaze on the cut you’d made, “Revelio.” 
A single drop of bIood fell from your arm, everyone witnessed it change colour and clash onto the ground in a shiny, silver drop. There was another collective gasp. Bellatrix cackled and your father looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite pinpoint, a mix of desperation, rage and disappointment.
“Well, well, well,” a voice boomed from the back of the room, “what an interesting little plot twist.” The crowd parted to allow the dark lord to walk towards the centre of the room, he seemed pleasantly entertained. “Silas,” he said as he turned to your dad calmly. “Anything you care to explain?” 
You turned to your father, being thankful that everyone’s attention had turned the other way, and looking for someone distracted enough for you to do your next move. 
Your father was about to say something but was quickly interrupted by your mother, “He didn’t know! I lied to him.” 
Your head snapped back towards them, Why is she–? 
“Is that true? Silas?” 
Your father stood straighter, looking indifferent. “I had no idea,” he lied blatantly, “I wouldn’t be married if I did.”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit–” 
“Silence child,” you were interrupted by the dark lord who was staring at your dad with interest, he hadn’t said the words to the spell, but your tongue was tied, and you couldn’t emit a word anymore either, “the adults are talking.” 
You moved towards them when you realised you wouldn’t be able to speak. “Incarcerus,” Tom’s voice boomed and a set of ropes appeared from thin air, binding you to the spot you were currently on. His spell was much stronger than Evan’s had been, it was as if the more you moved the more the ropes tightened around your arms, digging into your skin sharply. Tom turned to your mother. “Elaborate.” 
“I met him, I knew he wouldn’t like me if he knew of my heritage so I lied and hid it from him.” 
“Well, I find this is the perfect little set-up for you to prove your loyalty,” Tom said with a simple smile. “Torture her.” 
What? You thought, head snapping towards your mother sharply, forgetting about the ropes entirely. 
Your mother and father exchanged a look, your mom nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then your father raised his wand against her, “Crucio.” 
There was a wicked laugh from Bellatrix as your mother sank to the ground and started screaming. You stared at the scene as if petrified. If there was something you had never doubted in the past, it was the love your parents had for each other. How could he– how was it even…
You turned back to the ropes and started to desperately fight against them. When you realised it wasn’t working you went for plan B, you turned into Vixen and jumped as fast as possible, snatching a random wizard’s wand from their hands as you turned back. 
Of all the terrible ideas you’d had today, this might have been the worst. You barely had enough control over the spell with your own wand, but you had to do something. You took a deep breath and pointed your wand at Bellatrix, “Pestis Incendium.” 
A giant fire exploded out of the tip of the wand you had stolen, prompting the people around you to step back several metres as the fire turned into a massive Chimera. Fiendfyre was a dark and dangerous spell, and you had only practised it in a controlled environment with Nightshade watching your back. But the Chimera you had formed now was bigger and angrier than anything you’d ever created, she was dеadly. The massive winged lion-goat was burning everything in its way as people ran to the sides and attempted to apparate the hell away from the room. 
But Evan’s house was charmed against apparitions, a few of them were caught in the fire as they attempted to run, others tried to fight against it, with water spells, but they seemed to do nothing against the angry beast you’d created. The heat quickly filled the room, smoke from burning things wafting through the air and making it harder to see. You searched for your mother, but you couldn’t spot her at all, so you turned back to Nina who was looking at you with an awed struck expression. You picked up a wand from the floor and handed it over to her before helping her up and casting a disillusionment charm around the two of you. 
“We need to get out,” you whispered, as you grabbed onto her hand and pulled her along with you. You sped through the running crowds as the curtains and furniture started to catch on fire and remembered you had left Regulus petrified. 
You ran towards him, pulling Nina alongside you and finding him still unconscious in the place you’d left him. “Finite Incantatem!” you said and Regulus opened his eyes hastily. He looked around confused and opened his eyes wide when he spotted the giant Chimera behind you, being even more confused when it completely ignored him and turned to the other side. You grabbed onto his arm, leaving traces of bIood over his white shirt, “Get out!” 
“What?” he asked, confused. 
“I won’t be able to control it for much longer, get out!” you repeated and pushed him towards the window before you pulled Nina to the side again. 
She used her wand and started hexing people as you sped through the crowd and toward the window behind the snack area. If you could reach the hedge maze, you’d have enough time to think of a better way to get the hell away from there. 
Finally, you spotted your mum again, she was right in front of the Chimera, using relashio in an attempt to slow her down. You raised your want towards your fiendfyre to drag it away from her but there was a spell cast in your direction. 
“Stupefy!” Bellatrix said as you fell to the ground, you lost control over the Chimera completely and the beast used one of its paws to crush your mother. You could hear your father’s scream ringing in your ears alongside yours, followed by a sob as tears welled up in your eyes. Bellatrix smiled, “Well, well, well, would you look at that, one little fae gone, and one to go,” she said as she pointed her wand towards you. 
You were on the floor, still trying to get a grasp of the situation and attempting to gain control over the Chimera again but it was pointless, she was doing whatever she wanted. Bellatrix smiled and raised her wand towards you, “Avada–” 
“Crucio,” Nina shrieked next to you, and Bellatrix instantly fell to the ground, with a cry. Nina’s curse was so strong that the woman continued to scream madly as she pulled onto her hair. “CRUCIO!” Nina repeated. You looked at her in amazement and she gave you a half smile, fear hidden behind her eyes. “She’s not going to touch you ever again,” she reassured and extended her hand your way, you took it and she helped you up. “Ferrum Incarcerus,” she said and suddenly a set of chains bound Bellatrix Lestrange, “Flagrante,” she said next and the woman started to cry in pain as the chains started to heat up and burn. “Call me a Mudblood again, you bitch!” Nina spat, and you recast the disillusionment charm around the both of you. 
Clutching to each other you walked all the way to the snack table “Bombarda!” you shouted, the window blew into pieces, and your Chimera went wild, growing wider and wider. You looked back once more, Bellatrix was still crying over the chains. There was a tall man, Cygnus, you assumed, trying to help her out of them, but Nina’s spell was strong and whatever he was doing wasn’t working properly. 
You spotted your father clutching the burned remnants of your mom and you stared at the scene almost petrified. You had done that, you had murdered her. 
Nina looked at you with tears in her eyes and decided to avoid staring at the pile where she knew her mother’s body would be, focusing on you, and on getting the hell away from that damned hellhole you’d ended up in. 
“Come on,” she pulled onto your arm. “We have to go, come on!” 
“That–” you said, still looking, the Chimera was bigger now, angrier. “They’re gone.”��
“I know,” she said somberly, but then the urgency came back to her, “Come on, they’d want us to get out!” she added as she pulled onto your arm again, this time much stronger, you didn’t move at all. “Hey, look at me!” she added and grabbed your head in between her hands to force you to look at her, Nina might have been younger, but she seemed so much wiser than you at that moment. “This is awful. Things are awful, and it’s unfair. But two things are true: It was not your fault, and we need to get out.” 
You tilted your head to the side, she didn’t know, she didn’t know you had ignored her mother’s cries. Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, what a terrible person you were. “Okay,” you managed to say and allowed Nina to pull you alongside her and both of you managed to exit through the window. 
The cold was the first thing you noticed, white snow melting into puddles close to the house due to the fire. Messy mud on the floor making the pristine white layer of snow look brown and messy.
There were already Wizards outside, Regulus stood next to his mother and Narcissa, who kept looking inside as if waiting for someone to come out as well. Reggie too was looking around nervously, the last time he saw you, you were still inside and things were chaos. 
You took a small stone and threw it towards him, when he turned around you said “Vermillious,” and from the tip of the wand you had stolen, faint red sparks appeared. People weren’t looking your way, and they had been so faint that they were nothing in comparison to the amount of light that came from your blazing Fiendfyre, but you saw Regulus smile and nod your way. You turned to Nina, somehow much more composed than seconds ago. “You like puzzles, don’t you?” you asked her as you nodded towards the hedge maze. 
She smiled and gave you a nod, “Let’s get out of here,” she added, and the two of you walked inside. You ran through the maze, staying as close to each other as possible, and jumping from dеad end to dеad end. It truly was a headache, but Nina was as determined to get out as you were, so you followed her lead and continued walking behind her. 
“We can’t be too far from the way out, the magic stopping us from apparating is losing power the deeper we go, can you feel it?” 
“Yes,” you replied with a smile, and end to the nightmare, finally. 
“You can apparate already, right?” 
“Kind of,” you replied. “I mean, yes,” you reassured, you’d figure out a way, you’d both get out, you had to.
“Finite incantatem,” someone said when you rounded a corner, and both you and Nina raised your wands against him.
“Would you look at that, charming little butterfly and her mudblood friend,” The man said with a wicked smile, his silver hair flowing behind him. “You really thought you’d get away after causing so much havoc? My fiancé’s father is dеad because of your little ruse.” 
“Obscuro,” you spat, ignoring his remark and going straight for defence.
“Protego,” he returned. “Stupefy!” 
You blocked his spell with practised ease. “Nina behind me!” you said with determination, “Depulso!” 
He blocked as well, “Confringo!” 
You ducked and pulled Nina alongside you to the ground. His spell went straight to one of the hedges and things started to heat up, quite literally. The snow surrounding the area behind you melted and mixed with the dirt beneath, making mud similar to the one just outside the house. 
Lucius taunted and attacked with increasing ferocity, while you fought desperately to defend both yourself and Nina. Spells flew back and forth, lighting up the night with bursts of magic. With each passing moment, the intensity of the duel escalated, fueled by adrenaline and desperation. 
There was constant shouting and blocking. The more time passed and the more time you stood your ground against the man, the angrier he seemed to become. And you were tired, the amount of magic you had used up to conjure the Fiendfyre and the fact that she was still distracting and burning things back at the house, even if out of your control, was draining your energy –and magic– at worrying speeds. 
Combining that with the charred image of your mother that you desperately tried to bury in the back of your mind, you felt closer and closer to losing your grip and concentration, but you refused to give in, if there was something that you were, even in cases of life and dеath, was stubborn. 
“Getting tired, butterfly?” he asked with a cocky smile when he noticed you had almost tripped on a spell. 
“Opugno!” you responded, ignoring his taunting. Suddenly the branches of the hedges seemed to come alive as they went straight to get him.
“Deprimo!” he shouted before the spell hit him, and the floor started to shake, both you and Nina managed to step out of the way, on time, but the hole in the ground had now trapped the two of you in a dеad end. 
“Reparo!” you shouted, your previous spell had been strong enough to distract him while you attempted to build the ground back up so you could continue. 
“Impedimenta!” he shouted, and you were locked in place. When did he even get out of the hedges?
You tried to focus on shaking the charm off while he pointed his wand at you again. You were tired, but you had fought against Nightshade’s impedimenta several times before, and Lucius’ curse was much weaker. Despite that, the amount of magic you had already used had debilitated you and it seemed to require even more concentration than it had done in the past. That didn’t make it impossible. 
You were just getting a grip on the knot of magic that seemed to lock you in place when Lucius smiled, still bound by the hedges but gloating at the way you struggled. 
“Stupefy Maxima!” he shouted. You braced yourself to receive the spell, but instead, you felt a push from the side and ended up cornered against one of the hedges as Nina fell to the ground right in front of you. 
“Nina!” you shouted and dropped to the ground next to her in an instant, then you saw another spell leave his wand. You stared at the red bolt coming straight at you with watery eyes, thinking of all the things you wouldn’t be able to do, of all the things Nina wouldn’t be able to do because you had failed to save her. Anger and sorrow filled your thoughts as you stared at dеath straight in the eyes. 
But she didn’t stare back.
Instead, there was a bright, blinding light that lasted no more than half a second, and Lucius was thrown back against one of the hedges. It was as if his wand had backfired the spell on him. You stared at the scene confused, your bafflement increasing only when you spotted Barty Crouch shooting a stunning spell in Lucius’ direction. 
You turned back to Nina as the two of them fought the other, “Nina,” you said softly as you placed your hands around her face, her cheeks were cold but there was something gooey and warm behind her hair. As you pulled your hand back to look at it better you realised what it was. You shook your head and as you stared. “No, no, no, no...” you repeated over and over again as you leaned down only to realise she had fallen onto a sharp rock. “No, no… Nina, look at me,” you said, voice wavering. 
Her weary gaze turned to you, her eyelids were heavy and tired, but she smiled faintly when she saw you. “You’re okay,” she sighed. 
“No, no, no,” you repeated, tears already blurring your sight as you stared at her. 
“Go!” she said softly, reassuringly. 
“No!” you said again, voice cracking near the end. 
She nodded soothingly, “It’s okay, you have to go.” 
“Nina, please!” you begged. “We can do something, we can find a way to–” 
“Go,” she interrupted you calmly, more secure now. “You’re all right,” she said and smiled, “I can go happy knowing you’ll be alright.” 
“You can’t! I won’t leave, not without you,” you replied stubbornly, shaking your head as you said it.
“You can’t stop her now, the bargain’s made, the deal’s done,” she said simply. 
“No, please,” you said as you leaned onto her chest and allowed the tears to stream down your face, the girl somehow managed to place her hand over your hair and played with some of the strands with the little strength she had left. 
“You know… I’ve been bles-sed,” she said, her breath caught in her throat. “Blessed that you were the last thing I got to see,” she added with a smile, “thank you for saving me.” 
You felt her hand go limp over your head and you heard the last beat of her heart boom against your ear. “No!” you cried and stood back up to look at her. She had a pleased and peaceful expression on her face, contrasting completely with her stained blonde hair, and the rapidly changing colour of snow, no longer white, but scarlet. “Rennervate,” you said pointing the wand at her. Nothing. “Rennervate,” you repeated, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Rennervate, Rennervate, Rennervate.” 
“Stop it!” you heard Barty say from behind you. 
“Rennervate!” you said again, completely disregarding the boy. 
“Hey! You need to get out of here, people are coming.” 
“I don’t care!” You snapped. And turned back “RENNERVATE!” 
“You’re going to diе too! Her sacrifice would be for nothing!” 
“Go to hell!” You responded. You felt him trying to pull you away from her. “Get your filthy hands off me!” 
“Re- rennervate,” you repeated, it was more a whisper than anything else, a desperate cry, a futile attempt to cling onto something that wasn’t there anymore, that wouldn’t be there no matter what you did. Perhaps you had used up your magic, it was a stunning spell, not a kiIling curse. 
But it had also been the fall, and the rock.  
“Listen to me!” Barty said as he hauled you up by pushing you against one of the hedges. “She’s gone, and if you don’t move, you’ll be the same! Your stupid spell will do nothing to bring her back!”
“She’s my friend!” you shouted angrily as you tried to pry his hands away from your arms. But Barty was still stronger than you. “She’s my friend, and she’s struggling because of me. I won’t give up on her!” 
“THERE IS NOTHING TO GIVE UP ON! SHE’S FUCKING DЕAD!” 
Rage filled your gaze as you managed to focus on him again, you tried to push him off of you again, this time with much more determination. When he realised, he smiled and loosened his grip. 
“What?” you asked in disbelief. 
“Wrath is more useful than desperation,” he retorted. “You need to get out of here.” 
You gave one last look at Nina, her pleased expression made her look as if she was sleeping, soft and simple and happy. Could you trick your brain into thinking she was just sleeping if you tried hard enough? 
You turned back to Barty wearily, “Why– why are you helping me?” you asked with a wavering voice, emotions raw and unfiltered at this point. 
“Evan told me what you did for him. He’s taking care of Lucius and I’m much better at apparating than him.” 
You swallowed, distrusting, and turned to the side, Evan was indeed in the distance, performing some kind of spell on the man that had murdered Nina. Your mind was spinning with conflicting emotions. You wanted to lash out, to scream and rage against the unfairness of it all. But there was no use, Nina was dеad and no matter how much you cried about it, you wouldn’t bring her back.
“Look! If it makes you feel better you can hit me–” His words were cut short as your fist connected to his face. “Fuck! I’m trying to help you!” he winced as he reached for his nose. Your fist stung, but clearly, his face did just as much. 
“You’ve been an asshole to me for months.” 
“And I’m trying to do a good deed, bIoody hell!” he replied with a frown, you glared in return. “Come on, we need to get out.” 
“I don’t want to!” You said in a stubborn whisper, you wanted to lean against her and cry until the snow covered both of your bodies and you could forget about it all. 
“But she wanted you to,” he replied, there was bIood streaming down his nose, but there was an honesty in his gaze that you didn’t think Barty was capable of. “Allow me to help make her last wish true.” 
You swallowed, giving the boy one more weary look, “Can you try?” 
“Try?” he asked, confused. He was trying.  
“To save her.” 
“It’s pointless, if you couldn’t do it–” 
“My magic’s weak,” you admitted, despite yourself, it didn’t matter anymore, you didn’t care if Barty or Evan used it against you as long as Nina came back. 
The boy sighed, clearly thinking it was pointless, but leaned down next to Nina either way “Rennervate!” he said steadily.
Seconds passed by, agonisingly slow but nothing happened.
You let out a defeated breath, your mind was suddenly empty. You realised if you didn’t want to end up like her, you’d have to pull yourself together somehow. Barty tried again, even if you didn’t ask him, but the result was the same. You placed a hand on his shoulder. 
“Fine, let’s get out,” you said with a nod. Barty stood up and you tighten your grip around the wand you were holding, taking in a deep breath before pointing it at Nina. “Papilioscorpus,” you said, focusing all of your attention on that one spell.
Suddenly Nina’s body transformed into a heap of small blue butterflies. You held back the sob that threatened to escape by sucking in a breath as the small creatures broke off Nina’s body, one by one until there was no more of her, but hundreds of them. 
How unfair it was, that Nina had to diе because she wasn’t a pureblood, you thought, even if Nina would disagree. She didn’t diе because she wasn’t a pureblood wizard, she didn’t diе because they tortured her to dеath, she didn’t diе weak and defenceless and in despair, you had spared her from that fate. No, Nina diеd to save you, and she was pleased with the choice she’d made, simply because she wouldn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist. 
They flew up, circling you for a second before continuing their path, way above the hedges, and leaving behind the bIoodstained snow in search of somewhere warm. 
Barty turned to you with a soft expression and then raised his wand to the butterflies, “Irascor,” he said simply. A protective charm, so they would be safe, even if Nina hadn’t been. 
“Thank you,” you managed to mumble, as you saw them leave, not allowing yourself to wallow in the hopelessness you felt at such a stunningly beautiful sight. The snow-covered landscape, the stars shining above in the sky, the small snowflakes falling softly on the ground, all contrasted deeply with how you felt, how broken and in pain you were. You blinked back the tears and turned back to him. 
He nodded and cocked his head to the side, indicating you to follow him. It was slow at first, steps into a different direction, away from the bIood, now being covered by a fresh layer of snow, away from Evan and unconscious Lucius. 
Eventually, Barty started to pick up speed and you matched his pace, a welcome heat to the cold that had now chilled your bones. The dress you had, while long-sleeved, wasn’t exactly snow-friendly. Your heels long forgotten, left as you took faster and faster steps. The white cool of snow against your heels, helping you focus on anything other than all the previous events. 
Barty seemed to know exactly where he was going, and you followed him blindly. The traces of your steps had been long erased by the constant falling snow. If he was leading you to safety or back to the house, what difference did it make at this point? 
But then you felt it: the barriers against apparating were gone. “Where should I take you?” He asked softly, softer than you’d expect him to, the two of you breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. 
You blinked, looking around like a lost puppy. You had no mother, your father was a deatheater or something, and your home was probably not yours anymore –not that it had felt like one in the last few years. “I have nowhere to go,” you said the words as you realised their weight. 
Barty sighed, he knew what it was like to not belong. To feel lonely and forgotten and like he had to be outstanding to be cared for, to be worthy. He knew what it was to have no place to call home, but he had Evan now. He knew what that felt like, and for the first time since he’d met you, he empathised with you. “Sirius?” he offered, he might not like him, but he knew Sirius was as special to you as Evan was to him.
“He’s with the Potters, you cannot apparate there, you don’t know where it is… It would be too dangerous, for the both of us,” you said steadily, emotionlessly, trying to cling to your analytical side. If you blocked the emotions threatening to boil out of you, if you hid them so deep within your mind that they wouldn’t bother you then perhaps you’d be able to keep moving. 
“Secret hideout?” 
“I–” then you remembered. “School! Take me to Hogwarts!” 
“You can’t apparate there…” he said with a frown. Hogwarts was a brilliant idea though, it would certainly be safer.
“No, but, you can apparate on the Shrieking Shack! You’ve done it before.” 
“You want me to take you back, there?” he asked, disbelief laced in his tone.
“Yeah!” you said with a confident nod. 
“Are you… sure?” he asked again, perhaps the emotional toll of the night was getting to you. 
“Yes! I can get to the castle from there,” you repeated. 
He looked at you as if analysing the situation, you seemed pretty sure of yourself, so he nodded, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you closer, Barty was as tall as you, still growing, so you assumed he’d be taller. You ended up hugging each other in the most awkward way possible (a weird sort of hug where neither of you seemed to want to touch each other) before he apparated just outside the shack. 
You felt a sense of relief when you spotted the snow-coated building. You had made it this far, against all odds. But was it worth it? With how much it had cost? 
Barty gave you one last look, “Can I have the wand?” he asked in a relatively polite tone as he pointed to the wand in your hand. He was being considerate, even for his standards.
“Pardon?” You asked as your grip on the wand tightened. 
“I’m going to say I tried to stop you but you apparated away, you’re talented for your age so it’s believable enough. Evan is obliviating Lucius. We’ll try to get your actual wand back–” 
“Nina’s,” you said as you handed him the one in your hand. He frowned. “Get Nina’s wand, it’s more important.” 
“Why?” 
“I can buy another wand, but she… she can’t,” you said, trying not to let your features betray the emotions you felt. 
“But it’ll be useless to–” You gave him a mix between a pleading look and a glare, and he stopped his words, “we’ll try,” he conceded.
You smiled weakly, “Thanks.” He was about to leave. “Wait!” you stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, he turned to you, movements soft and calm, he knew you were on edge. “Priori incantatem, they will know you tried to bring Nina back if they check.” 
“Give me the wand,” you said and he did as told. “Now take it.” 
“Expelliarmus,” he said and the wand you had stolen flew from your hand to his, he caught it in the air with ease. It was surprising how fast he’d caught on to what you meant, but you already knew Barty was brilliant, even if he used said brilliance for evil deeds more often than not. 
“And now stun me.” 
“What? Are you daft? I’m trying to save you,” he protested with a frown.
“And this is my way of thanking you, you put up a fight against me. Stun me softly if you will–” 
“Stupefy!” 
Your body reeled back against the gate and ended up on the floor. It had been soft, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Either way, the physical pain was a welcome distraction from the grief that threatened to consume you whole. 
“Payback for punching me in the face,” Barty said with a smile as he offered his hand. He was joking. 
You scoffed and pushed his hand away, deciding that sitting on the snow was comfortable enough. “Get the hell out before I punch you again.” 
His smile only grew wider and he had the nerve to send you a wink before he apparated again. You stared at the empty space he’d left for a while, there was snow all around. Falling and falling in a stunningly, slumbery sort of way. So peaceful and quiet in comparison to how loud and hectic things had been just seconds ago. Even your heartbeat, which had been blasting against your ears, was slowing down. 
You stared at the cold white snow, and let your head fall back onto the gate as one of your hands fell on it, pulling some of it up and staring at the way it fell from your fingers lazily. You remembered playing in the snow with the boys, how happy you had been that day, you wondered if you could ever be that happy again. 
Ah… how tired did you feel, things were calm now, you weren’t in danger anymore, you sank deeper into the ground, adrenaline dissipating with ease and exhaustion washing over you in waves. You closed and opened your eyes wearily. 
The shack, why did you have to get to the shack? You wondered, everything was so peaceful where you were, you liked it, the cold of the snow soothingly numbing the pain, all the pain, not just the physical one. You let a faint smile coat your lips, who’s that in the distance? You wondered, it looked like someone you knew, but paler. Could it be… Nina? 
And then you closed your eyes. 
And so we grace another table And raise our glasses one more time There's a face at the window And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye…
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A/N: This chapter is getting shadowbanned no matter what I change so please like, reblog and comment so it does not go under the radar. They're only flyin' too close to the sun
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sourlove · 2 days
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Could you please do how yandere mha boys would react to pregnant darling pretty pleaseee?
YANDERE MHA REACTING TO PREGNANT READER
ft. Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Aizawa
TW: OBSESSION. DRUGGING, KINDAPPING, BABY TRAPPING, YANDERE THEMES, DELUSION, FORCED PREGNANCY
Thanks for the ask!
MIDORIYA IZUKU
When Izuku first finds you throwing up, he's beyond ecstatic. Growing up with his mom was great but very lonely. He always wanted a white picket fence kind of family with three kids and a dog. To him, that was a perfect family, and there was nobody better to start that with than you.
After months of trying he was finally successful. Sure, you weren't exactly on board with the whole pregnancy thing and maybe he had to switch out your birth control pills with placebos but he was just doing what was best for the both of you! Why couldn't you see what he was trying do?
What was that? You don't want to keep it? Oh...well, that's just too bad. Izuku would do just about anything to get the family he's always wanted. Even drugging you and chaining you up in his basement. Don't panic, it's okay! It's just temporary. As soon as he changes your mind, Izuku will let you go, okay?
BAKUGO KATSUKI
Katsuki isn't really a family man to be honest, so he doesn't try to intentionally get you pregnant. But he's willing to see the silver lining when you do get pregnant. After all, maybe a baby is just what you needed to stop acting like a fucking brat all the time.
Plus, he likes when you start needing him to do things for you, like giving foot rubs and back massages and making healthy meals for you. But Katsuki's a bit of a sadist and can withhold these things, leaving you to fend for yourself, if you don't behave. You can't leave so there's no other person you can rely on.
Overtime, you start to become more docile, not just for the purpose of getting something. Mostly because, its...nice to have Katsuki dote on you. He can be sweet when he wants to be and you need all the help you can get right now. It doesn't hurt that he's pretty level-headed most of the time and can easily handle your pregnancy hormones flaring up your emotions.
Maybe being trapped in his house wasn't going to be as bad of a situation as you thought.
TODOROKI SHOTO
Shoto is very freaked out. He had a really sad childhood and the worst father so he doesn't even want to put himself in a situation where he ends up just like Enji. If you also don't want the baby, he is so relieved and starts looking into adoptions, etc.
But if you do want the baby, well...this is him...
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He's trying his best okay?
Shoto really does try to be supportive because he would do anything for you to be happy. But like...yeah. It's easier before the baby gets there, when it's just you and him. Once the baby comes, good luck getting Shoto to even stay in the same room as them.
AIZAWA SHOTA
Shota isn't too bothered about you getting pregnant. He wasn't a fan of condoms and you didn't use birth control so it was bound to happen sooner or later. He would be a pretty good dad too, albeit a little strict and would help with the kids, unlike someone else *cough Shoto cough*
Shota finds it adorable how you waddle around or cry because your tea is warm instead of hot. He loves when you become more needy and cuddly. Honestly, Shota's just having a good time. Good enough that he wouldn't mind getting you pregnant over and over again.
He never saw himself wanting a family before but seeing you so cute and round, just does things for him and he can't help but want to see you pregnant all the time. Whether you want that or not :)
READ PART 2 HERE
A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! I love when you guys leave asks so go ahead and drop one or two if you wish. Sorry if this is short, I'm hungry :)
@justabratsworld @pinkrose1422
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sweetismyaddiction · 2 days
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SUCROSE
Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love
Word account: 1199
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, friends to lovers
A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like, and comment. I am accepting suggestions for the next parts (should I already tell about the nicknames?). Please be nice. The Gif is not mine. Credits to the oner
Chapter 1: Derek Morgan, next door
Y/N’s Point of View
The water ran warm against my skin, a relaxing shower was all I needed after one very busy day serving and cleaning, which was not the worst part of the job, the worst part certainly was the clients themselves.
I had a playlist on to help me relax, thank god I had the day off and would go just to the night shift today, so it is a study and cleaning house day. But a noise interfire my peace day. Noises that come from outside.
In the corridor someone knocked on a door calling a name, Spencer’s name… I finished my bath, put on my robe and with my towel dried a little of my hair just taking the exes of the water then brushing it. I came out just in time to see someone kicking down my door and entering my apartment holding a gun.
“What are you doing?”
The man is a black big man, he looks around and then to me still holding his gun pointing it to me.
“Where is Spencer Reid?”
“Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment? Why did you break my door?”
The last sentence was a scream, I can’t believe that a random dude broke my door for no reason. Can’t he see numbers?
“I am SSA Derek Morgan. Now, where is Reid?”
Morgan, the name rings in my ears. Spencer talked about him so many times. Apparently they are friends and coworkers, he can break Spencer’s door, not my door!
“Spencer’s door is the other one.” I point to the one just across the hall. “But relax big man, you do not need to break another door, I have the key, just wait in here and let me put some clothes on. Do not let anyone into my apartment. And put that gun down. Jesus”
Is this a thing? You have to be handsome to join the FBI? After putting a light dress and getting the key I get back to my living room, where that delight for tired eyes wait, he remains stoic, rigid, so tense. Should I be worried?
Knocking soft on the door and calling his name I warne Spencer that me and Morgan are coming in. No response, and the place is immaculate, everything in the right place.
“He must be asleep, he has been very tired those couple weeks. I am going to check his room.”
“By yourself?”
“Yeah. What? There is something I should know? He is contagious? A zombie? No? Ok, so I am totally fine going by myself.”
I walk slowly into his room, it is dark and quiet.
“Sugarpout? Spence?”
A peaceful breathing is heard when closer to the bed, he is involved in his blankets, is the sights of heaven, my heart gets warm seeing Spencer resting peacefully.
I sit at the bed and run my hand delicately in his soft hair before resetting it in his forehead checking his temperature, he moves a little moaning in protest.
“Shh… it's me Sugarpout, it is ok, you can keep sleeping”
Is a very quiet whisper as I place a tender kiss to his forehead leaving my boy there, his hand landing on top of mine making me smile, as quiet as I entered his bedroom is as I live.
Just at the room door, Derek looks at us, I just make a signal to him to keep quiet and we are back to Spencer’s living room.
“So… you seemed troubled. There is something I should know? Is something wrong with Spencer?”
“Why do you have his keys?”
“Cause I live just across the hall?”
Who does he think he is to interrogate me?
“Serious? That 's why? Common, hot stuff, Reid didn't make a move on that gorgeous woman? Man, he really doesn't have material… or does he?”
Flirtatious Morgan, Reid said he was just like that, all charming. Just bark, don’t bite. Well… I don’t think girls would mind if he bites them, I recognize good stuff when I see it.
“Changing subject that quickly? What are you avoiding agent?”
He just looked at me, no verbal answer, heavy shoulders unmatched with the flirt smile on his face… for a profiler he isn't that good in hiding emotions.
“Seriously” a puff of air came out of me. “Is everything okay with him?”
“Yes, Reid is fine. I… was just worried, we had a hard case and he wasn’t answering the phone…”
“I believe you”
“So… why the keys?”
“I live very close, we are friends and I am his food stealer”
 I blinked at the man with a dirty smile in my face mixed with my sweet traces.
“Food stealer?”
“He is out, I need something, I enter his apartment, I grab what I need, and then I come back to my place. Simple”
“Are you confessing a crime to an FBI agent?”
“A crime against another agent. And the other agent is very aware of what I do in his hose”
“Sorry about the door”
“It’s okay, it is nice to know Sugarpout have friend that really care about him”
It is impossible not to smile, I care so much about the genius boy. Knowing other people also care about him warmes my insides, it is really good to know he is well protected in the field.
“Sugarpout?”
My eyes almost fall out of my face. Shit! It is a private nickname.
“Don’t. Do not, ever, ever, talk about it to anyone, It is private, and especial, so please…”
“Okay, a secret. Someday you will tell me?”
“Maybe”
Derek Morgan lives his card with me. He waited about 30 minutes talking to me, but it seemed Spencer wouldn't wake up so soon, so Derek decided to go home, but promised to pay for my door. In my opinion it was the very minimum he could do, but them we have a talk, and his caring by Spencer was more than enough for me to forget about my broken door.
“Sugar?”
“Hey, Sugarpout, did you sleep well?”
I smile going to start to prepare something for him to eat.
“How long have I sleeped?”
“Something around two hours, you needed it. Morgan passed by, and broke my door”
“He what?”
“Broke my door. He was knocking, no one opened, then he kicked in. But surprise, surprise. It was the wrong door.”
“Sorry”
“It is not your fault, and he is going to pay for the repair, he was just worried because you didn’t answer the phone, and the last case was hard. I assume you basically blacked out from exhaustion so I decided to let you sleep.”
The toast is ready as is the coffee, the black coffee with tons of sugar.
“Here you go Sugarpout, you need to eat, and then you should call your people. I am not asking about the case. Just a reminder that you can talk about anything with me anytime, I am just one door away.”
I kiss his head, before going back to my place. I could tell he needed a moment alone to call his friends, especially Derek after what I vaguely told him.
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furuyalover · 1 day
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4:52 pm
— ft. kuroo tetsurou
includes: a cute lil impromptu study date
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it’s april and we all know what that means, finals season. right now it’s just you, your laptop, numerous papers and notebooks, and an iced matcha latte enveloping you in the cozy cafe atmosphere. you’re trying study for your calculus test tomorrow and you’re pretty focused, for the most part.
about ten minutes ago you glance up from your studies where you notice a familiar face across the cafe, kuroo tetsurou. while you’re decently close with your classmate and you’ve made conversation with him numerous times, you figured both of you are too busy with your work for you to approach him right now. however you can’t seem to get the striking captain out of your head. you’ve always had an admiration for him but some would say it’s more like a crush… so after a solid 15 minutes of pretending to do work and pondering what to do, you finally decide to maybe shoot him a text!
y/n: hey am i tripping or is there an obnoxious volleyball player studying across from me?
kuroo: obnoxious is a strong word 😒 u also studying for the calc test? 😭
y/n: kind of …. not doin too hot rn
kuroo: oh well you’re in luck then
and just like that you glance up from your screen and notice him begin to gather his things and make his way towards you. the middle blocker plops himself down on a seat next to you and begins unpacking his bag. “don’t worry princess im here to save you from your calc demons.” your flutters a little at the sudden nickname, but you keep your composure with a quick retort “ok woah im not doing THAT bad.” “then why is your study guide blank?” damn, he got you there. “whatever you gonna help me or what?” since he’s a man of his word he opens his notebook helping you review what you’ve learned these past classes, and working you through each problem better than khan academy ever could. he’s concise but sweet, making sure to comfort you every time you’re overwhelmed or not sure how to solve a problem. you’ve never seen this side of him, you’re used to dealing with his cockiness and sarcasm and this caring demeanor is something new to you.
but just like that an hour and a half has gone by and you’ve both successfully gotten through all your homework! where did all the time go? you wondered to yourself. embarrassingly, you’re kind of upset that you’re study sesh has come to an end. you’ve always wanted to go out with kuroo outside of class, and this is the closest you’re ever gonna get to that. “oh well all good things must come to an end” kuroo says, almost defeated you thank him for all his help while you start packing your things.
“actually wait before you go,” you stop what you’re doing to look up at him, wondering what he possibly need. surely he’s just gonna ask about something from class right? wrong. hes flustered. almost red even. scratching the back of his neck he finally looks at you and says “i really enjoyed hanging out with you, and i just wondered if you wanted to do this again sometime?” you’ve never seen him so nervous before, so you let out a small smile with a slightly confused look on your face. “what, like study?” your smile ends up giving him reassurance and just like that his confident demeanor is back. he grabs your hand and says “well that’d be a pretty boring date don’t ya think?” grinning before placing a chaste kiss on your hand.
you look down to try and hide the rosy blush that now plastered your face (too late he already saw it). flustered by his sudden advance you look up and match his confidence arrogance with your own. “alright then, but if i don’t get an A on this test im rejecting you”
“oh like that’s ever gonna happen” you roll your eyes, but he has a point.
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reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
AN: ahhh this was so fun to write <3 love love loveee writing some friends/classmates to lovers drabbles !! hope u guys enjoyed this lil piece i whipped up :)
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Paring: seungcheol x you
Requested: no
Release date: 24-04-24
Genre: mafia au, reverse of getting kidnaped by the mafia boss, fluff, e2l, crack, assistant au
Warning(s): mention of abduction, guns?, cheol is a menace, brief mentions of drugs (do tell me if i missed anything)
summary: It was not supposed to be like this, it was a meticulous plan perfectly curated by you, Jun and Seokmin. You were supposed to go get the man who was the future heir of the Kim Corps named Mingyu, you ever had a pic of his. Most importantly it was definitely not supposed to be the man who now sits in your basement claiming that he is the leader of the mafia organisation you three work for.
Word count: 5.8k
Other works
Beta reader(s): @wonuwrites-main and @anonmonty (sweet sweet angles helped me with proof reading, or else im fucking incompetent)
disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.
a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus, if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.
[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]
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It is a beautiful day, and like they always say: beautiful things happen on beautiful days, and you were damn ready for the said beautiful thing to happen!
The plan is simple—you and Jun have gone over it at least fifty times, and Seokmin has been standing there listening to you both intently throughout the whole ordeal. 
“So, let’s go over it once again,” you say, pointing at the white board with the picture of a man, Mingyu to be exact, the heir to the Kim Corp. and your target. 
“He leaves his office to have coffee every afternoon exactly at 3pm at the nearest café named ‘Carvery’, am I right?” Jun and Seokmin nod with a concentrated look on their faces. 
“Next he goes to the park, sits there for fifteen minutes, on most days, and then takes the path that leads them straight back to the building, correct?” The two men again nod, and then Jun takes over the talking. 
“More often than not, he hates company during his afternoon runs, so the best chance we have of abducting the man is when he is between the café and the park. This will give us at least a twenty-minute head start before the police and his family start looking for him.” 
Now you and Seokmin nod at the man, and Seokmin takes the podium to present the next part. 
“Jun and I will be on the streets while y/n waits in the car, and from the background check we ran last month, we know the man is well trained in martial arts, so we will try and attack him with the anesthetic as soon as possible.” 
“And after the guy is unconscious, we will flee with his ass~,” adds Jun. 
“Sounds like a solid plan,” you laugh as you high five the two men. 
Indeed, it was a solid plan. You three had considered every possibility and chosen this day to execute your plan. It’s perfect and thorough, so what can go wrong? 
-- 
A lot apparently. 
You reached the destination ten minutes early to give Seokmin and Jun ample amount of time to prepare for the attack. 
As you parked your car near the pavement where the abduction would take place, you see a man walk past the car wearing a beige trench coat with some sort of concoction from the coffee shop. 
Now if you were a seasoned abductor, you would have known not to mess with the person as the timing was not right. But that was not the case, and seeing a person who vaguely matched the physical descriptions of the man you were actually supposed to abduct gave you enough reason to jump the gun and take this man hostage. 
Before you could process anything, Seokmin jumped on the guy, trying to tackle him while Jun tried to find a way to inject the drug into his system. After another minute of struggle, taking at least five punches in their abdomen and faces, both the men were successful in sedating the man.  
They hurriedly carried him to the car and you three sped off to the base to ask his family for ransom. 
-- 
You have been back at the base for three hours now. As you look at the unconscious man tied to the chair in front, you realize the grave mistake you made by not seeing his face the minute you were actually kidnapping him. 
“I mean if you look at his eyes, they look very similar to the real target, you know. Maybe he ate too much last night and is a bit swollen now,” Jun says in a wise tone. Now if you were stupid like Seokmin, you would have accepted this analogy of his just like the hundred others he had spewed in the past two hours, but you are not. So, you hit the guy’s head while calmly saying. 
“Will you keep quiet for a minute? You know as well as I that this is the wrong man. We don’t even know who he actually is. So, we wait for him to gain consciousness and then interrogate him.”  
You have figured that screaming and crying will get you nowhere. All it will do is trigger Seokmin’s panic attack, and you do not think he can manage another one after the one hour long one he just resurfaced from.  
“Our best bet is that we abducted a pretty important dude, or else we know the boss will have our meat served to his dogs for their nightly feasts,” you continued. 
“I can see he is wearing pretty costly brands all over. My guts say he is rich,” Seokmin pipes up. 
“Seok, your gut told you to scream for the past hour. I don’t trust it a lot now,” you complain. 
“I think it’s your fault, too. You should have stopped us from abducting the guy instead of just staring from the car, you know,” Jun says. 
Now, you will consider yourself to be a level-headed person, but one thing that gets to you more than anything else is a false accusation. On top of that, the bitch has the gal to accuse you of being careless when they were the ones showing literally no care about their work, owing to the fact you were not even supposed to abduct the untouchable Kim Mingyu in the first place. The leader of your clan, although you three had never seen him, mostly operated through Jeonghan, his right-hand man. The guy you agreed to kidnap was apparently remarkably close to your boss. But when faced with the tough choice of loyalty towards one gang and the lump sum of three million, you three had to face the situation and betray your gang. You know you should not, but the small jobs with the gang were not enough to even pay your rent!  
So, who does Jun think he is to shift the blame towards you when you have done nothing but try to make a secure living for all three of you. Therefore, you do the thing that your sane brain advises you to. 
Go off at Jun. 
“So, if I fail to babysit two grown men while on an extremely important mission that included them, the blame is shifted towards me?!” 
“You were both supposed to wait for my instructions before confronting the poor bloke. Now, if things go wrong, it will be your faults, and I will be dragged into it because I was the main brain behind the planning.”  
“Guys, I think we should focus on the guy more; I think he is stirring.” 
This statement from Seokmin caught both of your attention, causing you to cease the argument immediately to take a look at the man in front of you. 
Without hesitation, you put your gun on his head and ask, “who are you, tell us about yourself.” 
The man albeit good looking with his doe eyes and plump lips, gave you three a mean stare before speaking sassily. 
“Shouldn’t you know the identity of the person you kidnap?” 
“If we knew, I don’t think I would have asked about you,” you reply. 
The man scoffs before informing you the most gut-wrenching piece of information you have ever heard. 
“I’m Choi Seungcheol leader of Choi Clan.” 
-- 
When Seungcheol met Mingyu today, he was feeling particularly drained and sought the comfort of a familiar face, longing for a brief respite from the relentless demands of his job. Mingyu, sensing his friend's exhaustion, proposed they take a detour to unwind, considering Seungcheol's grueling schedule. Gratefully accepting the suggestion, Seungcheol had embarked on what he thought would be a much-needed moment of relaxation. 
Oh, how wrong he was. 
As he leisurely sipped his coffee, enjoying a fleeting moment of calm, the tranquility was shattered by the sudden onslaught of a group of thugs. Seungcheol had braced himself for a possible mugging, but the idea of being abducted never crossed his mind. He curses himself for sending Soonyoung away earlier, now regretting not having company in this unforeseen predicament. 
To make matters worse, Seungcheol felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. A mafia boss getting abducted! 
How humiliating.  
Now, do not get him wrong, he was, in reality, as far from incompetent as the Sahara was from water, as Seungkwan was from being calm, as Jihoon was from showing affection—you get the point. 
In fact, he had been the first in three generations to successfully reclaim the southeastern part of the city for his clan from the Yoon family, a testament to his capabilities. 
Now bound and surrounded by three hapless captors whose incompetence was glaringly evident, judging by the one who he suspects was crying prior to their conversation with him. He suspected they had targeted Mingyu, but mistakenly seized him instead. Seungcheol could not help but shake his head at their sheer incompetence. 
Now, again, he is not that scared. He knows he has a trusted pack of workers who would join heaven and earth in search of him. No, he is least bothered about himself. 
What he is actually bothered about is who planned to abduct Mingyu, because he is strictly off limits for his clan members. He knows this as much as anyone that they respect the young heir a lot, not only due to his kind nature, but also because of the relationship he has with their leader. 
So, when he informs his three kidnappers his name, he gets the weirdest of responses ever—a chorus of ‘shits’ and ‘fucks.’ Moreover, he sees all three of his kidnappers suddenly fall down at his feet and grumbling out the most nonsensical bullshit ever. The only words he vaguely captures are ‘it was supposed to be someone else’ and ‘sirs’. 
This confuses the man even more. But then he suddenly sees all three of them take their masks off, revealing two men and, dare he say, a very gorgeous woman. Now in any other situation,
Seungcheol would have laughed, but now that he is in it himself, the only reaction he can provide is a confused head nod as the woman immediately goes to untie his hands. 
-- 
“So, you are telling me that you were paid to abduct my friend who you know is off limits, but still went ahead with the idea, even though you are the members of my gang?!”  
He says as he looks at your group standing in front of him with their heads bowed down looking like kids getting scolded.  
“But sir, we barely make any money from doing the jobs assigned to us. The only way for us to pay our rent was for taking up jobs from outside, and this one paid us a huge sum. We never wanted you to be the one getting abducted instead, we swear!” you suddenly exclaim with the extreme need to explain yourself. 
Your two partners beside you do their dutiful job by nodding their heads with your rant. 
“You three fucked up really bad, didn’t you?” He says, looking a tad bit amused. 
“We are really sorry!” Seokmin chokes out, visibly scared by the whole ordeal. 
“Well, it’s time I go back, so take me back to the office.” 
Right after that statement comes out of his mouth, you three are escorting him out of the door to the car parked outside to take him back. 
-- 
“So, you are telling me these three, these newbies who literally didn’t have any good job for them to gain experience, drugged your ass and took you to god knows where, and you couldn’t even put up a good fight?!” 
Jeonghan exclaims, looking at the seated, nervous, and scared faces of the three of you from Seungcheol’s office’s glass. 
“Apparently not,” the older man sighs. 
“My friend, are you sure you are a real mafia? Because in light of the current happenings, I am starting to question your integrity a lot.” Jeonghan says as he barks out a laugh, taking immense pleasure at his friend’s humiliation. 
“Or maybe you were too caught up staring at the pretty lady to notice that you were getting kidnapped.” 
The bitch continues to make fun of the older man. 
“I just thought I was getting mugged, so I didn’t fight hard enough. Who knew I would be kidnapped instead.” Seungcheol grumbles, pouting a bit. 
“Which is even worse, because you are telling me you would have let people just mug you for no reason when you are one of the most influential people underground!” Jeonghan said while looking pretty concerned about the statement his superior just spewed, and he does indeed have a hard time accepting it. 
“Ahh! Just get over with it and let me go. Plus make sure the three of them face the appropriate consequences for not only abducting me, but also trying to abduct my friend,” Seungcheol barks out while walking out, thoroughly humiliated, and annoyed that his junior was having fun at his expense. 
So Jeonghan does the very thing at which he is extremely good. 
Create chaos. 
 Right after his superior leaves, he strides towards the group and says, “so because the boss has instructed me to do something with you three which will stop you guys from going off the hook, I’m going to assign you some jobs in the organization because I can.” 
Now, anyone even vaguely familiar with Jeonghan would recognize the expression he wore just before chaos ensued, but contrary to popular belief, Jeonghan is actually quite amiable—at least, that is what he believes, and that is what matters, right? 
He continues, “Junhui, you will be overseeing the artillery division. Our deputy head Chan will ensure you are well informed about your job. You will meet him tomorrow. As for Seokmin,” he paused, a sly smile crossing his face, which made Seokmin visibly nervous, “You, my friend, will be our esteemed boss's driver. Lastly, y/n, you will be his assistant. You shall be meeting Chan tomorrow, too; he will explain the workings of your new role.” 
Normally, in any ordinary conversation, you would not dare ask inappropriate questions, but the circumstances were far from normal, so you proceeded with the most audacious question you could muster: “Why did Chan leave his previous post?” 
Jeonghan politely responded, “He left because the job didn’t suit him, so we shifted him to the artillery department as a deputy head.” 
Unspoken was the fact that Chan had been worn down by the boss's relentless bullying, quietly requesting a transfer for at least three years before Jeonghan finally relented. Since then, the turnover of assistants had been alarmingly high. Jeonghan desperately hoped you would stick around. Moreover, if either you or Seungcheol objected to this arrangement, he had enough leverage to ensure you both comply. Enough dirt to keep both of you in line. 
-- 
Your meeting with Chan the next day went well. He explained to you the workings, gave you tips and tricks on how to make sure all the work gets done. Overall, a 10/10 experience, except the small hiccup at the end where he cryptically said something along the lines of “Best of all fucking luck with this job because you will need it.” 
Now a small best of luck is never a bad gesture, but that statement! 
That shit was a bit too hostile, even for you. But you are fine, happy even. Anything that saves you from getting your life cut short by a mafia leader is always welcomed. 
-- 
“What are you doing here?”  
“Where is Jeonghan?” 
The first two sentences to ever leave The Choi Seungcheol’s mouth the minute he sees your face when he comes into his office that afternoon. Indeed, so delightful! 
"Sir, I've been assigned as your work assistant for the time being," you reply, your eyes downcast. It is a surreal turn of events considering just yesterday this man was tied up in your basement. After that ordeal, everything seemed to take on a different hue, almost as if you were hearing the bells of heaven. So, that reaction seems pretty appropriate to you given the circumstances. 
Now you see our oh so beloved Mr. Choi was not just an underground mob because what is the fun in that, right! He mostly did international business under the guise of his company named The ChoiTech, solely based on providing technological change using sustainable means. Pretty cleaver tactic, although overused, but still gets the job done, so who are you to judge. 
The man looking extremely shocked at your statement immediately rushed inside his office, you presume, to call Jeonghan. And sure enough, within five minutes of him disappearing from your sight, you could hear him loudly complaining to his secretary on the phone. “But Jeonghan I can’t be collaborating with her, after what she did to me yesterday!” 
The man whined and then suddenly you could hear hushed whispers, so being the curious cat you were, slowly crept near the door to hear the conversation better. 
“But man, it’s humiliating. She kidnapped me for fucks sake”, the oh so powerful man, who people assumed will one day rule the underworld, whined like a kid who has been denied to go on a playdate with their best friend. 
By this time, you were almost pressed onto the door when suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat made you jump away from it and look about for the person who stopped you from consuming you daily dose of gossip. 
The culprit, Joshua, stood right in front of your desk with an amused look on his face. 
Now Joshua is someone you were extremely familiar with, being the man who took care of assigning roles to the lower members of the group, you have had a lot of angry conversations with him. 
“I would ask you if Seungcheol is busy, but the way you were trying so hard to eavesdrop, makes me think otherwise,” he says, making you roll your eyes. 
“Just give me a minute to tell him you are here, then you can go in.” 
The man nodded still looking thoroughly amused at how sad you looked due to missing out on whatever conversation you were listening to. 
After a minute, the man was inside, now looking even happier that he has seen his next victim to torment. 
-- 
“So Jeonghan was indeed right,” he said, looking like he was having a tough time controlling his laugh. 
“Not you, too,” the pouty man whined from behind the desk. “But really, can you tell him to not put that woman as my assistant? I get war flashbacks every time I see her face,” he continued whining. 
“I mean, I could do that, but where is the fun there, right!” Joshua, thoroughly enjoying his boss’s misery, replied. “But in all seriousness, you could just treat her like Chan. The boy is still traumatized by the amount of work you made him do,” he thoughtfully added. 
The older replies, “I liked Chan, he was nice, would do anything you ask him to!” 
“And so will she. Her life is at stake here, give her some benefit of the doubt.” 
This statement made the older think like never before. Plans of tormenting you to quit your job rushing past his brain at high speed. Suddenly everything made sense. 
“I can take my revenge! That is exactly why Jeonghan made her my assistant. Oh, my friend is such a genius!” Seungcheol said, looking a bit too enthusiastic. 
“Ok, I am sure it was done to decrease his workload, but whatever you say, man,” the younger said skeptically after seeing the diabolical look on the elder’s face. 
-- 
It has already been three weeks and suddenly you understand what Chan meant all those days back when he wished you good luck. To put it quite plainly, your boss is crazy. 
The man was a combination of workaholic and perfectionist, which resulted in him getting swamped by work and by default the same fate befalls you every day, too. For the past three weeks, you have had a challenging time at the office to even take a break to eat food. 
The men you called your enemies once, aka Jeonghan and Joshua, are the ones now saving you from dying out of malnutrition. You are eternally thankful to them. But more than anything now, you regret trying to kidnap Kim Mingyu—the name makes you want to cry in a corner and throw rocks at people, if you had any time to do so. 
“Sir, you scheduled two appointments at the same time: the new project for the Orin Community Park and another one with Mr. Xu for the narcotic deal.” 
You informed the man who had his face shoved in some papers, reading something diligently.  
“Why did you not stop me from doing so then, you were right beside me when I was going through the plan.” 
Now, it is your job to curate the perfect schedule for the man to follow, but Seungcheol being the guy born only to cause you inconvenience made his schedule for the week himself this time. 
Why you might ask?
Purely because the man is a chronic insomniac and whenever he has trouble sleeping, instead of taking measures to have a peaceful sleep, he tries his hands in different works because he can, and this time his victim was the poor, poor schedule of his. 
“Because you had already sent them both emails, sir,” you say, thoroughly exasperated. 
“Ok maybe I did, so now I obviously can’t cancel on both so you figure out something so that I can attend both the meetings, because I ain’t missing any.” 
The man just turns his chair around and keeps reading whatever he was reading in the first place.
With an extremely calm voice, you say, “sir I need you to stop trying to do something to pass time when you can’t sleep. I need you to actually go to a doctor.”  “Can’t,” comes his response, making you sigh more. 
Sometimes it feels like you are working as a babysitter to a grown man instead of an assistant to a CEO. 
Seeing the conversation would be going nowhere if you keep talking to him, you go out and do the second-best thing in your books. 
Call Chan. 
“Lemme guess, the boss is giving you a hard time!” The first sentence he says right after picking up the phone. 
Sighing, you tell him all of Seungcheol’s various administrative behaviors throughout this week. When you got to the part where he had so bravely and meticulously made the perfect schedule, Chan started laughing. The gall of that boy! 
“Wait, he still does that!” He exclaimed between his laughs, making you feel even more annoyed. 
After calming down he says, “just make Jeonghan or Jihoon go for the community meeting and let him manage the narc. I know you are thankful, so do not mention it, but maybe buy me a meal when you are free, as a repayment.” 
Chuckling at the younger boy, you agreed to get him whatever he asks for purely because he is a literal angel, and he deserves the world. Ok, maybe it is a bit too dramatic, but the boy was indeed your angel in disguise. 
Planning on following through with the advice Chan gave you, you called both Jeonghan and Jihoon simultaneously. As Jeonghan was busy, Jihoon accepted the work of going to the community welfare meeting instead of Seungcheol. 
After that, the whole day was smooth sailing. But the main root of all your problems was happy, maybe not healthy, but the look of pure happiness and the twinkling eyes when he passed by your desk was hard to miss.  
This man was slowly but surely making sure to strip you of your patience bit by bit. 
--  
The last straw to eradicating your already depleting patience came when Seungcheol in all his glory, during one of his nightly ‘Imma take away other’s jobs because sleep refuses to befriend me’ escapades, deleted all your assistant notes for the server by mistake. 
You still are baffled as to how he did that. Truth be told so is he. He was scrolling away on his phone when he saw this reel about ‘how to increase your Wi-Fi speed.’ Extremely intrigued by it, he had actually tried to increase the internet speed in his house, and he swears on every god on planet earth it worked. So, he tried doing so with the one in his office, which weirdly enough resulted in removal of all the information that you had stored in your laptop. 
Now if this would have happened to his computer, too, you would not have gotten as angry as you were, but the motherfucker’s computer was all well and good and if you actually pay attention, it seems that his internet speed has increased, too! 
How this man become a CEO is beyond you. What is not so beyond is your pure hatred for him and his technologically challenged ass. 
So that night when Seungcheol, stayed back as usual to do work, you took your chances, entered his office, and slammed a ball of yarn and two knitting needles on his table while scaring the life out of the, not so, poor man. 
“Start knitting!” you calmly said. 
“But I don’t know how to though!” he replies, thoroughly confused. 
“Then learn, Seungcheol! I don’t care what you want to do, I need you to learn and pick up a hobby, start gaming, try knitting anything! Just make sure you are not trying to turn the office upside down.” 
Anyone who knows Seungcheol also knows never to question his nightly routines, but more than that, they also know the pride of the man is too high to ever accept his mistake. So, when you commit the grave crime of pointing out his mishap with the Wi-Fi router that morning, you hit the nail on the head and pissed him to the fucking moon. 
“So, you think I’m bad at what I do?!” 
“No, I think you are technically inept. And you should leave it to people who are good at it.” 
This pisses off Seungcheol more than anything, but you don’t let him intervene as you keep speaking. 
“On top of that you are constantly making changes in your schedule without informing me. You’re your assistant. Maybe have you ever considered the fact that your schedule was made so that your day is smooth sailing, and no two activities overlap!” 
“Just because you refuse to go to a doctor and try and find a way to manage your stress does not mean you make the workplace hell for us.” 
By the end of your rant, you were fuming and Seungcheol was stunned. 
Clearing his throat, he says awkwardly, “I’m sorry you feel so, I will try and fix my schedule.” 
Now, although this statement made you feel better, it also confused you, as you were fully prepared to have a full-blown fight with the man. Him backing down was never an option. But now that it has happened, you muttered a small, “I shall be going then”, to which your boss meekly nodded. 
After you were outside, you ended up feeling better due to unloading all your anger on the man. It was refreshing. Now you just needed to see what changes tomorrow will bring for Seungcheol. 
-- 
It had been two months since you had the argument with Seungcheol, more like your single woman shouting spree. But things have been better. He has tried to keep his need for new experiences down and this has made your life exponentially easier.  
Did you now have time to eat. Absolutely not! 
But the office was not a nightmare anymore.  
If someone would have told you five months ago that this is what your future held for you, you would have straight up laughed at their face and told them to get themselves checked. But life has weird ways of throwing you in situations you don’t expect yourself to be in, and you have no other ways of getting out but learn to go with the flow. 
You sometimes talk to Jun and Seokmin, and you have realized you got the hardest of all the jobs.
You asked Jeonghan about it once and his answer was, “because I can and its fun!” 
So here you are sitting on the couch with Seokmin while enjoying your sandwich when you see Seungcheol come outside carrying a bag, Jeonghan trailing behind him sporting this devilish look on his face. 
The big man walks towards you and hands you the bag. Opening it you notice a green scarf sitting at the bottom. 
“Seungcheol’s first knitting creation, and he says thank you for forcing him to learn knitting. It helps him sleep now.” Jeonghan says while pointing at the bag even before the older man could open his mouth. 
Seokmin tries to make himself as invisible as possible while looking extremely interested in the whole situation unfolding in front of him. 
Seungcheol waves his hands at Jeonghan trying to hush him down and whines, “let me speak!” 
“I made this cause you told me it would help me sleep! I didn’t think it could actually help me, but it looks like it did, so I’m extremely thankful for your suggestion.”
“Good job!” Jeonghan says, patting Seungcheol’s head like he was a child, making you laugh a bit. 
“Thank you for listening to me, sir!” 
“Oh, no, call him by his name, or else he will become weird with you again!” Jeonghan says, making you laugh again. Seungcheol pouts at both of you and storms back to his office, with Jeonghan at his tail making fun of him yet again. 
After that, you kept the bag in your desk and went to bid your friend goodbye. 
“He looked like he was confessing to his crush, you know”, Seokmin muses. 
“Maybe he has a crush on you!” He exclaimed after pausing for a moment. 
“I don’t, he is a weird person,” you had replied thoughtfully. 
Realizing he has been chatting with you for a long time, Seokmin quickly rushes outside while loudly screaming a ‘goodbye’ for the whole building to hear. 
When you came back to your desk, Jeonghan was waiting for you there. The man just looked at you with a smirk and said, “see you later y/n, and make sure to wear the scarf!” 
Jeonghan is a weird person. You more often than not don’t listen to what he tells you to do. He forces you to do them anyways. 
“Seriously, lady, do wear the scarf. Plus, it’s cold outside—you won’t get a heatstroke if you do so.” 
With that he was outside of the office, too. Slowly work caught up with you and you forgot about the scarf altogether. 
-- 
That evening, as you were finishing up at work and preparing to leave, you grabbed the scarf that had been gifted to you and wrapped it around your neck before stepping out of the office. 
Unbeknownst to you, the man who had given you the scarf felt a rush of joy upon seeing you wear it. Concealing his flushed cheeks, he quietly followed you out and spontaneously invited you to join him for dinner, explaining that he had given Seokmin the night off and now was in extreme need of a dinner companion, as Seokmin would fill in that position on most nights. It was unusual for him to make such a request, but you were both hungry and couldn't resist the offer of a free meal, even if it was from someone as harmless as him. 
"So, what do you think?" Seungcheol asked as the two of you sat at the ramen shop waiting for your orders. 
"About what?" You replied, genuinely puzzled by his question. 
"Didn't you read the letter?" He asked, his face turning even redder as he mentioned it. 
"What letter?" You responded, glancing around until Seungcheol nodded towards the bag in which he gave you the scarf, looking inside you noticed an envelope that matched the interior perfectly sitting at the bottom. 
"Oh! I can read it now," you exclaimed. 
"Don't worry about it right now," he interjected as the waiter arrived with your bowls of ramen. 
Despite his reluctance to discuss the letter further, your curiosity only grew stronger after he dropped you off at your doorstep. Once inside your home, you wasted no time in retrieving the letter from your bag. Its contents filled you with excitement like never before. 
The following day at the office, you placed another letter on Seungcheol's desk before getting on with your usual tasks, eager to see his reaction. 
-- 
"So, let me get this straight—you've been dating our boss for the past month?" Exclaimed Jun, eyes wide with disbelief. 
"Why didn't you tell us sooner? How did this even happen?!" Chimed in Seokmin, equally stunned by the news. 
As soon as you revealed your relationship with Seungcheol, you found yourself bombarded with a flurry of questions from your friends. It was amusing to witness their sheer astonishment, and yet, deep down, it felt incredibly rewarding to share this surprising news with them.
What started as a casual hangout quickly transformed into a lively interrogation session, with your friends firing off all sorts of curious inquiries. Most pressing among them was the question: 
“How and when did all of this happen?!” 
You couldn't blame them for their curiosity. It seemed like just yesterday that you had kidnapped Seungcheol off the street instead of his friend Mingyu, which resulted in Jeonghan gaining the perfect opportunity to bully you both half to death. And let's not forget the hell and back experience you were subjected to from Seungcheol himself, the man who had once resorted to extreme tactics to get you to quit as he was reminded of the oh so humiliating experience he went through every time he saw your face. But somehow, it all worked out in the end, and you couldn't be happier about how it turned out. 
Near the end of your gathering, you couldn't resist the urge to pull out your phone and reveal the most treasured image in your gallery: a photograph capturing two pieces of paper resting on a desk. One paper bore a lengthy paragraph, while the other simply displayed a single, bold sentence: 
"Take me out on a proper date first!" 
The photo encapsulated perfectly how you both worked so well with each other. It was a sweet reminder of how unexpectedly love can bloom in the most unconventional of circumstances. 
As your friends marveled at the photo, you couldn't help but reflect on how far you and Seungcheol had come in such a short time. Despite the initial hurdles and challenges you faced with the man, you were grateful for the bond you now shared—a relationship built on laughter, friendship, and, of course, a bit of unexpected romance. 
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The end hope you like it !!
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arcanefox207 · 7 hours
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The Wolf You Feed (Part 2)
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 5.6k
Part 2 / ? (Ongoing Series)
Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity) 
A/N: In case you are just jumping in, you can read Part 1 here. Part 2 is more smut heavy! I aim to have Part 3 out much sooner as time allows!
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S
Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated and give me the motivation to write 🧡
Without further ado... for your reading pleasure.
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It’s late on Saturday morning and you have a pot of coffee brewing while you shower. You stand in the stream of hot water far longer than you need to. Your thoughts shrouded by your evening with Joel Miller. How rough but passionate his touch was. How he made you get on your knees for him. How he tasted and how badly you wanted… needed  more of him. Your hands trace over tender spots where he held onto you and you relish the memory. 
He tested your obedience and you followed his orders. You hope it turned him on as much as it did you. You liked surrendering yourself to him. Despite his roughness you felt safe with him. You couldn’t explain it yet but you could feel that his burly facade was hiding something softer. 
You finally step out onto the cool tile and dry off in front of the mirror. You pat your hair down with your towel and when the steam starts to dissipate you catch how happy you look. An old you that you have not recognized for a long, long time. 
You smile to yourself and resolve to put Joel out of your mind for now or nothing would be getting done today. 
The coffee helps wake you up enough to plan out your morning. There is a light coating of fresh snow and the sky looks gray and ominous. A big storm is expected to hit overnight so you head into town to pick up some food and provisions. You make a quick stop at Grind when you see Marlene’s car parked in front.
There are a few customers and you are surprised to see Marlene working. By her expression, she wasn’t too pleased to be there.
“Hey!” You greet her as you approach the counter. “You got stuck working today?”
“Yeah, someone called out.” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t feel too bad for me, it’s your turn next.” she jokes. A teenager is busy checking out a customer and another is making a latte. Marlene steps away for a moment to chat with you.
“So…” she prods. “How did it go?” You fail to hide your smile and thoughts of Joel overtake you once again. 
“It went… great.” 
“When can I meet him?” 
You laugh nervously at her question.
“Lets not jump ahead. Right now it’s just something… casual.” 
She is skeptical of your reply and stares at you for a moment, trying to will more out of you, but you don’t give in. 
“Ok. Whatever you say.” She rolls her eyes again. “I have to get back to work, but you are going to have to tell me sooner or later.” She points at you and furrows her brow. 
“Yeah, Yeah.” You joke. “See you Monday!”
You leave the shop and cross the street to the grocery store. The place is mobbed and the shelves wiped out of the most in demand items. You grab a few things and chat with your mom who calls you to check in. Rather, to tell you all about her excursions and gossip about people you have never even met. You don’t mind and just tell her things are going well, you like your job and let her ramble on, not really listening. Mindless chatter in your ears while you shop. 
She does catch you off guard when she mentions hearing about the storm and “Joel will plow for us if we ask him to” casually. Your ears perk at the mention of his name but you act cool and collected. You don’t like the way she volunteers his services so nonchalantly. It strikes a nerve in you and reminds you of how she always insinuates you are incapable of being responsible. It makes you feel defensive for Joel, too. Her disregard for his time further illustrating how self centered she is. This was one of the factors that pushed you away for so many years. 
“Your father will call him later—” 
Absolutely not. You interrupt her sternly mid-sentence. 
“Mom. I will take care of it.” The last thing you want is your parents harassing Joel or trying to control you from across the country. This was a string you needed to make clear was not going to be attached to your current living arrangement.
“I have things under control.” 
“Oh… ok then.” Her tone is short and then she is off talking about her beach plans again. This goes on for another 10 minutes and by now you are in the checkout line. You say your goodbyes and calculate another week or two before you have to do that all over again. 
You hadn’t really considered the snow aftermath but you had a shovel and your car would be good enough to get out of your driveway… probably. You were not going to bother Joel regardless. 
The call puts you in a bad mood as you drive home. The spitting snow reminds you of the impending storm. The cheerful start of the day is gone and replaced with a heavy feeling.
You drive past Joel’s house and wonder if he is home and what he is doing. Wonder if you should call him. Wonder why he has not reached out to you either. You don’t want to be that girl. It’s not like you and him are anything. You shouldn’t be expecting anything from him. However, you still feel a faint sting of disappointment. Maybe he had his fun and that was it. Self doubt poisons your mind but you try to swallow it back. 
The rest of the day you spend eating junk food and watching movies on Netflix. You fall asleep on the couch early in the night before forcing yourself into bed. The wind and snow has ramped up and your power flickers. 
You pull your comforter tightly over you and take one last look at your phone but you already know there is nothing from Joel. 
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Saturday Night (Joel POV)
Joel sits up in his loft on his worn out couch, strumming his guitar. He takes a sip of his whiskey, neat, and poorly mouths the words to his song. 
He plays a few more riffs but feels distracted and unfocused. All attempts to keep busy have been ineffective today. He spent the afternoon preparing his truck and stacking firewood. Once that work was done he had nothing but free time.
The truth is, you have been on his mind. It was hard not to think about you. He had only explored the tip of the iceberg with you and wanted more. He knew it wasn’t right to pursue you for a magnitude of reasons, but the desire was not waning. He felt things with you that he had not felt in a long time. Feelings he was afraid to give in to.      
Joel replaces the guitar in his hands with his phone and hovers your name in the recent contacts.  This isn’t the first time today he has almost called you. 
What are you doing, stupid. He thinks to himself. 
He shuts down the moment of weakness and locks his phone. He knocks back the last of his whiskey and heads downstairs. He turns on his TV to the local news and listens to them fuss over the storm. He knew tomorrow would be a busy one for him with his side hustle as the plow guy many locals depended on. Just another thing to keep him busy. 
He goes to take a shower before calling it an early night.
The shower is hot and comforting and in no time his mind is wandering back to you. He thought about your brief evening together and how intriguing you were. How bold you were. How tight you were when he was fingering you and how needy you sounded.  
He puts a fist against the shower wall to brace himself and hangs his head low so his shoulders block the bulk of the water. He uses his free hand to wrap around his semi-hard cock. He remembers your playful hold on him and gently strokes himself. It doesn’t take very long to get hard as he relives that moment in his mind. His strokes get harder and faster and he wishes he was fucking into you and not his own hand.
He groans as he comes and watches his spend drip down the shower walls and into the drain. His few moments of bliss quickly fade away. He balls his fist in frustration at his unfulfilling release. He needs more. He needs you. 
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Your Sunday morning begins with anything but peace and calm. You are startled awake by the grinding sound of heavy metal dragging across pavement. You look outside your bedroom window and see the snow has blanketed everything and there are still a few lingering flurries dancing in the sky. The trees are struggling with bent over branches coated in ice and snow. 
Leaving your warm and cozy blanket fortress is the last thing you want to do. You lazily grab a hoodie to pull over your oversized shirt you slept in and your pajama shorts and make your way to the front of the house. The floor is cold on your feet but the air is warm. You cranked the thermostat before bed, making you feel rebellious in the moment but it seemed silly and wasteful now.
You look out the front window that faces the driveway. There you see Joel Miller in his truck, plow attached, barreling towards you and crashing into a snowbank he started building up. He looked so serious and professional backing up his truck with an arm stretched across his seat as he looked over his shoulder. He was so focused he was not aware you were watching him and his scowl at work. 
It doesn’t take long before that familiar ache between your legs returns. The longing to let Joel have his way with you. A desire that is getting harder and harder to ignore.
The realization that you look like you just woke up from bed hits and you scramble to the bathroom to run a comb through your hair and brush your teeth. You can hear the drag of the plow continue as you finish up and then rush to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. The stove clock reads 7:32am. Way too fucking early for a Sunday morning.
You hear his truck door slam and the sound of crunchy snow under his boots. He is walking with a heavy foot and grabs the shovel leaning by your door.
Joel is shoveling your walkway, weaving a modest path for you to get from your house to your driveway without trudging through the snow. You can hear him grunt as he tosses the heavy snow out of the way. What would have taken you probably an hour takes him just a few minutes. 
He plunges the shovel into a snowbank when he reaches the end of the path and leans on it to catch his breath. He looks exhausted and rightfully so. You want to comfort him in whatever way you can. At least offer him some respite to show your appreciation. As much as you hate to admit it, you would have been totally fucked if you had to tackle your driveway with your inadequate self. Joel saves the day, again.
You crack open the front door and call out to Joel, reluctantly interrupting his moment of peace. 
“Hey!” 
He slowly turns in your direction when he hears your voice. His eyes scrunch as he makes out your figure hanging out the door. He gives a lazy wave of acknowledgment. 
“Come inside and warm up? I made coffee.” 
He picks up the shovel to return it and makes his way towards you. 
“Yeah, ok. Just for a minute” He follows you inside.
Joel closes the door hard behind him and scuffs his boots on the mat to get off any snow. He brushes his hand quickly over the top of his head to knock off any lingering snow and unbuttons his jacket. He empties his pockets and puts his wallet and phone on the end table. He saunters over to you as you hand him a fresh cup of coffee, black. 
“Thanks.” He manages a smile. He returns to the living room and groans as he lowers himself to the couch. He recklessly sips his piping hot beverage and seems immune to the searing heat and delighted to have it.  He rests his mug on the table and leans back and closes his eyes. His hand comes up to his brow as he pinches his thumb and finger together across his eyes.   
You lean against the doorway between the rooms and sip your coffee. You notice how tired and worn he looks. His damp hair is shiny. His heat is melting the last few snowflakes and making him look messy and wet. His jacket is open and disheveled and his flannel undershirt is haphazardly draping on him as he slouches back. 
Despite all that he is still as handsome as ever and you like seeing him this way. Vulnerable in this out-of-character state. 
“Tired.” He grunts with his eyes closed and it snaps you out of your thoughts. “Been a long morning.” 
You take a few steps towards him to close the gap.
“I’m too old for this.” He sneers as he looks at you with lazy, heavy lids.
“You didn’t have to worry about me, you know…” Your voice trails off as you wonder if he was there on his own volition. You can’t help but ask. You need to know.
“Did… did my dad call you?” 
���No.” he answers firmly with a suspicion in his tone, almost sounding offended. 
“Good. I mean, thank you. That was really nice of you to come over.” You pause and smile at him. You feel guilty, but also have never had someone so capable looking out for you before.  
“I was going to shovel it.” 
He raises his brow at the ridiculous claim.
“No you weren’t. Wouldn’t have let you if I saw ya out there.”
“Well.. Thank you.” 
“S’nothing. I don’t mind… having an excuse to see ya.” His brows raise and wrinkle in the middle. He has a softened expression as he looks into your eyes. 
Your heart skips a beat and is heavy in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it beating. Having an excuse to see you. You replay it in your mind. He wants to see you. You feel stupid for getting carried away thinking otherwise.    
You put your coffee down next to his and casually walk around to the back of the couch. There is a force compelling you to comfort him. Encourage him to relax. That fluttering feeling in your stomach surges. Joel Miller is exhausted on your couch and isn’t going to be putting up much of a fight if you fuss over him and you want to fuss over him. 
You stand behind him and reach your arms down and spread them slowly from his shoulders down to his sides. He lets out a tiny moan as you circle his taut muscles. You pinch and massage them as you go. You lean forward and bring your mouth just behind his ear. 
“You don’t need an excuse to see me.” It comes out softly and seductive. You can feel his body tense under your words. 
You rake your hands back up to his shoulders and curl your fingers under his open jacket. He halfway cooperates as you tug the jacket off his shoulders and pull it away from him. It's wet and heavy and most of the snow has melted into it by now. You toss it on the back of the couch and return to his shoulders. Your hands massage him and you can feel his muscles tight and knotted under your grasp. His head tilts back into the couch as he lets you tenderly work him.
“Feels good. Really good.” He says in a low, almost inaudible tone. His exhaustion has let his body surrender to you and he isn’t fighting to be in control. 
You lean forward again and plant your mouth on his jawline with a sensual kiss. His damp whiskers prickle your cheek as you drag it against him and go to his ear.
“Let me take care of you.”
He makes a deep, throaty sound in response. 
His flannel is damp and hot and he looks so uncomfortable and stuffy now that he has been inside a while. You slide one of your hands down to his chest and unbutton his shirt. You are halfway down and he reaches his arm up and curls his fingers behind your neck, pulling you down to his mouth. You can feel the shift in the room, like you woke a sleeping bear. 
“Come here.” He uses his free hand to tap his lap and loosens his grip on you.
You walk around to the front of the couch and stand in front of Joel. His legs are spread and he is still lazily slouched back but he motions for you to join him. His half unbuttoned shirt teases you with his thermal undershirt peeking out, still hiding his bare skin. At least you are getting closer.   
You step towards him and move to straddle him on the couch. You have a leg on each side and he puts a hand on each hip under your baggy sweatshirt. 
His hold is tender but makes you melt when you feel the wingspan his fingers have on you. His thumbs brush over your hip bones and trace down to the soft skin just above the crease of your thigh as he casually dips them along your waistband. His touch sends sparks through your skin. 
He lazily stares you down with a narrow gaze over his nose, still resting his head back. 
“Keep going.” He closes his eyes as your focus goes back to finish unbuttoning his shirt.   
As you get close to his jeans you can feel him hardening and straining against the zipper.
You pop open the button and carefully unzip him. His cock springs loose in his boxer shorts. It teases you behind the cloth barrier and you reach for his waistband so you can grab a hold of him. His fingers dig into your sides and he pushes you back slightly to make you stop. He fights through the laziness and is now fully alert. 
“You want my cock?” He grits through his teeth.  “Think it’ll fit in your pretty pussy?” He drags one of his hands to your center and grabs you through the fabric. He smirks as he can feel you are wet and damp through your thin sleep shorts. His fingers sneak into the leg hole of your shorts and he teases your clit through your cotton underwear. You clench remembering the stretch from his thick fingers deep inside you just the other night.
“Yes–” your words catch in your throat as he pushes your underwear aside and thumbs over your folds. He barely touches you and opts to tease you instead, deliberately feathering over your swollen clit. You reach down to grab the wrist of his occupied hand and grind into his fingers. Your body craves the friction. 
“Fuck me, Joel.” 
His eyes darken and with a devilish smirk he takes his hand back and watches as you slide off him to take off your clothes. He looks at your body with a sleazy ferocity. If any other guy looked at you that way you would have slapped him, but not Joel Miller. You want his attention and you like the way it makes you feel when he is eyeing you like a starving wolf.
You pull off your hoodie and shirt and toss them to the piles of clothes building up on the floor. You stand in front of him completely naked. Exposed.  Joel brings out a side of you that makes you feel confident and bold. The way he looks at you with intrigue and desire encourages you. You take a brief moment to tease him back and drag your hands over your breasts and one continues down to your cunt. 
Joel stirs in his seat. He is so easy to rile up. He pulls off his flannel and kicks off his boots. His thermal long sleeve remains hugging his body in all the right places. He arches forward as his hand grabs his thermal from the back and pulls it off over his head. It makes a prickly, staticy sound as it brushes over his hair. He tosses it to the ground and for the first time you can fully take in his body without so many layers hiding him. 
His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a narrowed waist. His body is rugged and defined. For an older man his physique had been well maintained thanks to his lifestyle. His tanned skin and his messy, dark hair with silver streaks sends tingles through you. You have never been so physically drawn into someone before on a level that almost felt primal. 
His eyes sweep your body up and down as he drags his thumb along the side of his mouth and rakes his fingers through his scruff on his chin. He bites his lip while he drinks you in. 
“Damn, baby.”  He curls his thumbs inside the band of his jeans and tugs them down along with his boxers. He kicks them off his legs and reaches towards you, wrapping around the back of your thigh and beckons you to return to him. 
“Come ‘ere”
Your eyes gape as you take in his sheer size. It is intimidating but makes you ache with desire. 
You are back in his lap straddling him with little coercion needed. You stretch an arm behind you to hold yourself up and the other touches yourself. This position lets him take all of you in; bare, exposed and wanting. Wet and needy for him. 
His hand reaches for his throbbing cock. He palms himself with a few labored strokes. He is already beading precome at the tip. You feel a pang of jealousy and wish it was your body wrapped around him. He catches the hungry way you are looking at him. You catch how much he likes it. 
“You wanna ride this cock?” He brushes the tip against your opening and you let out a whimper in response and lurch forward. You brace yourself on his forearm and your other hand pushes against his chest to keep yourself upright. His skin is firm as you grip into him. His body hot and radiating like a furnace.    
“Haven’t gotten you off my mind since Friday.” He confesses. “Thinking about how tight my cock would fit in you.” He teases you with the tip again. Your whimper grows into a needy moan making him harder. Making him want you that much more. 
He crudely spits into his hand and rubs it along his shaft and then he notches it at your entrance. You can feel your body begging to be filled with him and you’ve been wet since you woke up to him in your driveway. You’ve lost count how many times you imagined Joel fucking you. He puts his hands back on your hips with a rough grip and you move your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him. He helps keep you steady. 
“Joel! Fuck–” You moan. His thick cock sears your skin as it stretches you. He is slowly splitting you open inch by inch and you have never felt more full. He lets you control the pace for now, with pained restraint. He searches your eyes to make sure it isn’t too much. He knows he is a lot to take but the slowness is making him go insane. 
Joel lets out a grunt as he gets closer to bottoming out inside you. Your walls clench around him and the sweet pain from the stretch subsides as your body adjusts to his size. You slowly ride him up and down until you have him fully sheathed inside you. Your body is so full you don’t even have room to form complete thoughts. You can only focus on his burning hot heat inside you, tearing you open. Every moment before this pales in comparison.
“Fuck. So tight.” he snarls. His grip on you tightens as he pulls your body up and then thrusts into you, hard. He keeps the pace slow but more forceful than you were. He tries to be gentle but you can feel his patience slipping away.
One hand drags to his biceps where sweat is glistening. As he lifts you his muscles flex and contract he makes it seem so effortless to maneuver your smaller frame. Everything about Joel is big and strong and rigid. The epitome of masculinity.
Each thrust up into you makes you dizzy. You can feel yourself on the verge of orgasm, cock drunk and blissed-out. His heavy breathing and hitches in his voice send you over the edge as he pounds up into you. You ride the wave as he fucks you through it. Your arms entangle in each other and your bodies slap together, sweaty and panting. Your incoherent words and moans heighten with each thrust.
He makes you feel alive and pleasured in a way that you have never felt before. It is intoxicating. 
As you start to come down from the high you feel him getting close to his own release but he is still reserved and careful with you. Through gritted teeth he tries to keep his pace steady and builds you back up, never quite letting you recover.  
“Joel, Don’t… don’t hold back.” You manage to get out of your lips. You stare into him with hooded eyes and can only imagine how fucked out you look. He brings one of his hands up to the side of your face and strokes his thumb tenderly across your cheekbone.
“Ok, baby.” 
He leans into you and in a sweeping motion he twists and lays you back into the adjacent couch cushion. It is more of an oversized loveseat and not very ideal. He barely loses contact with your body as he positions himself above you. You can feel his weighty cock press into you and pin you in place as he leans forward, crowding you in the cramped confines of the couch.  
His mouth is on yours; rough and messy. He bites at your lip as he pulls away and reigns in his focus. Your legs clamp around his sides and your arms hold onto his neck. Your fingers snake into his hair and you grab hold of him. He slides his hands down your sides so he can hold you close as he resumes fucking into you. 
With this leverage, he somehow hits you deeper than before. His cock kisses the deepest parts of you again and again. Your sides bruise as he grips you harder. All his gentle inhibitions have been replaced with raw, unhinged furor. 
His pace quickens as you can feel him coming undone inside you. He is in a frenzy fucking you hard and deep and his grunts get louder. The heavy feel of him dragging out of you and shoving back with such force has you crying out his name along with a steady stream of expletives. 
You are so close but you beg your body to hold on, you don’t want the feeling to end. You want to live in this moment forever being trapped under Joel and being filled with his cock. You moan out his name as the second orgasm explodes through your body.  
“Fuck, baby..” his body quivers as he tries to hold out long enough for you to peak. 
He suddenly sits up and groans as he drags completely out of you. You whimper at the loss of him inside you and his wet, leaking cock slaps onto your belly. He strokes himself once with a heavy fist and grunts as hot ropes of cum spurt onto you. You relish being branded in his release. It coats your stomach and drips messily onto your cunt. You revel in the last fleeting moments of your orgasm being shared with Joel’s.   
He languidly strokes himself a few more times until he is empty. His chest rises and falls quickly as he breathes shallowly. His muscles weaken as the high from his climax rolls through him. 
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. The sticky mess spreads between your bellies as his body pushes into you. It's lewd and you love it. You love how filthy Joel makes you feel. All you can smell is sweat and sex and Joel.
He presses a kiss to your forehead and then sits back to catch his breath. Your bodies untangle and he goes back to his original spot on the couch. You stay laying back lazily with a leg draped casually over Joel and the other bent at the knee. You still need a moment for your legs to be in any condition to work properly. 
One of his hands rests on your thigh and he grazes it with comforting drags of his fingers. He doesn’t say anything but the gentle contact from him is welcome. The connection you share now is so contrasting to when he was railing you. It is a side of Joel that feels like a privilege granted to you.
The calm is interrupted by a vibration of his phone. Joel reluctantly picks it up to look at the screen and groans with disappointment. He answers it but doesn’t stop rubbing you gently while he conducts his business. 
“Fred, I’ll be there in 20.” 
You can’t make out the other end entirely but you can detect a man's voice. He doesn’t sound happy.
“Yeah, I’m running behind. Your house is next.” Joel tries to placate him. More chatter and you start to feel bad for holding him up. 
You move off of Joel and make your way towards the bathroom to wipe up the mess on your belly and grab your silky bathrobe off the door.  
“Ok, Fred. Be there soon.” You hear him hang up and toss his phone down with a grumble. He turns in your direction as he stands up to pull on his jeans. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta’ go.” His tone is solemn now. You pop out of the bathroom and catch him using his undershirt to wipe up his mess. It’s gross but you like seeing him being comfortable being a typical, nasty man in your presence. Points for being resourceful.
“I heard. Didn’t mean to hold you up.” 
He glares at you and smirks as you make your way back to him. 
“Didn’t mind one bit.” He takes a few steps towards you to meet you halfway and kisses you on the top of your head while he wraps his arms around you. He breathes you in with his embrace and it feels so perfect being wrapped up by Joel. A final moment before it all ends and he pushes away from you, reluctantly. 
“And s’not a big deal. Snow aint going anywhere.” He says as he puts his flannel on, sans the thermal, and starts to button back up. 
His messy hair is mostly dry now and even more unruly with wild curls. You feel that fire inside you building again. It’s insatiable. You don’t want him to go. 
He laces up his boots and gathers his things. 
“Ok. I’m gonna hop in the shower.” 
“Ok, baby.” You exchange a final look and go your separate ways. You feel his eyes on you as you return to the bathroom. 
When you go back to the living room he is gone. All that remains is his dirty shirt and an empty coffee cup. 
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Sunday Night (Joel POV)
After a few more hours of plowing Joel returns home. 
He takes a shower just long enough to wash the sweat and stink of exhaust from his body.
He pours himself a whiskey and collapses on the couch to relax. 
His body is weary, but his mind is still firing. It has not stopped. He has to face the reality that he is falling for you, whether or not he should be. 
He pulls out his phone and stares at it blankly. Hesitating. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds the one that he has been avoiding. He knocks back his drink and sends the text.
Joel: Tess. We need to talk.
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Thank you to @magpiepills for beta-ing 🧡
Love to my ladies that mean everything @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @for-a-longlongtime @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen 🧡
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bloatedandalone04 · 11 hours
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The Lucky Ones - Part 2
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➪the one where you and rick reunite after the events at the prison.
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of digging around in the undead, guns, takes place in season 5
Word Count: 3k | Part 1
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
Judith was crying again, and no matter what Tyreese did, she didn’t seem to want to stop. “C’mon, baby girl,” he huffed, bouncing her in his arms. 
You look over from your spot on a fallen tree, your fingers tangled in Lizzie’s messy hair. It was clear that Tyreese was having a hard time calming the baby down, and while it was a bit amusing, being quiet right now was a priority. “Hey,” you call out to him. “Want me to take her?” 
“Please,”
You laugh quietly and get up, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder before making your way over to Tyreese. “Come here, sweet girl,” you coo when you take Judith from him. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re alright.”
Tyreese huffed again as he moved to sit next to the small fire you had started, confused at how you managed to get Judith to stop crying within just a few seconds. “I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, poking the fire with a stick. “You had kids before all this?” 
“No,” you answer, brushing Judith’s hair away from her forehead before taking the bottle from Mika. “I was a nurse. Spent a year looking after my mom before everything went to hell. She was like a kid in a way. I used to rely on her, then suddenly she relied on me. I had to feed her, bathe her, and dress her. Never thought that would’ve prepared me for something like this.”
Tyreese grunted, setting the stick aside and looking over at you. “You’re a natural,”
You smile at that, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You’d been one of the many people that have been taking care of Judith since she was born, but being one of the three to do it now was something else entirely. 
When the Governor tried taking control of the prison and caused what could only be described as a riot, you were left behind with Tyreese, Mika and Lizzie. The older sister actually ended up saving both you and Tyreese when you were backed into a corner, and when you tried to convince them to go find Rick, you were outvoted. You were outvoted by a couple of fucking kids. 
So you fled with them into the trees and had been walking through the forests ever since. You would give anything to be able to be with him right now, but instead you were left looking after his kid. You didn’t mind, but you just wished you knew whether he was okay and alive or not. 
Carol took your spot on the tree and began braiding Lizzie’s hair as you hummed softly to Judith. She was beginning to fall asleep in your arms, and soon enough, Carol, Lizzie and Mika were all sleeping while Tyreese took the first watch. “You want me to take her? So you can get some sleep?” 
“No, I got her,” you mumble and move to sit next to him. 
You sit in silence for a while, with Tyreese adding sticks to the fire every so often and you gently rocking Judith. Your mind drifted back to Rick and Carl and Maggie and Glenn. Were they okay? Were they alive?
The last thing you saw was Rick getting shot in the leg then everything went to shit. Guns went off and fires were started, and you lost sight of pretty much everyone besides Tyreese. You wanted to run out to Rick, to help him, but there were just too many people and too many walkers. You didn’t stand a chance. With everything in you, you were praying to anyone who might be listening that he is still alive, and that he’s looking for you.
Like how you’re looking for him. 
You stare at the fire as you trace random shapes onto Judith’s arm with your thumb, lost in your own head. “Everything happened so fast,” you murmur, catching Tyreese’s attention. “Just a few days ago we were all safe and together. Now we don’t even know if everyone’s still alive.”
“We just have to keep looking,” he said, and you knew he was trying to comfort you, but you felt hopeless right now. 
“I wanted to go back for him,” you confess. “When we were leaving. I was going to go back, but I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t find him.”
Tyreese looked over at you in surprise. “None of us could get to him,” he assured you. “Rick is strong. He’s stronger than any of us. I know he made it out, him and Carl both.”
There was no way to be sure of that, but you appreciated his words nonetheless. “I remember when I first saw him at that store back in Atlanta. Glenn can tell you that I was in love with him the second I laid eyes on him. It felt like nothing else mattered, then he found his wife and son and I was sure nothing would happen between us.”
Tyreese let out a quiet laugh, leaning back on the log and taking off his hat. “Look at you now,” he teased. “That man is head over heels for you.”
That was true. 
Not long after you broke things off with Shane, Rick and Lori began having some issues. They split up long before she found out she was pregnant with Judith, and around her three month mark was when Rick finally allowed himself to begin something with you.
That something turned into an official relationship, and you’d been almost inseparable ever since. 
He told you to stay with Daryl and Carl when the Governor and his posse showed up, but then you got separated from both of them and wound up defending Tyreese in a different part of the prison yard. 
You smile at the memory of the first kiss you shared with Rick. Then your heart twisted a bit. You missed him so much. You missed everyone. 
“Feels like forever ago,” you whisper. “I hope they’re okay. I hope he’s okay.”
Tyreese gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’ll find each other. Right now you just need to focus on looking after his little girl and worry about the rest later,”
You knew he was right, so you gave him a tight smile and nod. 
-
“What do you think Y/n is doing right now?” Carl asked as he sat on the couch next to Rick. He dug through the stale cereal bag and gathered some in his palm, tossing them into his mouth afterwards. 
“I don’t know,” Rick answered, leaning forward on his knees as he tried to think of where to go from here. The couch was pressed against the door, a safety measure he deemed necessary since the lock had been broken off it. 
His face was sore and still a bit bruised, and the days he’s spent on this couch felt like a bit of a waste when he could be out there looking for his group. Looking for you. 
“Do you think she’s by herself?” Carl continued to ask him questions about you that Rick had no idea the answers to. He was losing hope as the days went on, though a very small part of him believed that you were out there somewhere, and that maybe you or someone else had managed to grab Judith on the way out of the prison yard. 
“I don’t know,” he answered his son’s question with a stern voice, trying to tell him to be quiet without actually saying the words. 
“Do you think she made it out?”
“I don’t know, Carl,” Rick nearly yelled, causing Carl to jump slightly. Rick lowered his voice and looked back at the floor once he saw the way Carl reacted to his outburst. “I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know who she’s with and I don’t know if she made it out. Just stop asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to, please.” 
Honestly, Rick couldn’t stand the thought of you not having made it out of the prison. He left you with Daryl and Carl, and now he was with Carl with no sign of you or Daryl, and he felt lost. 
Carl had told him that he and Daryl got separated, and how he saw you with Tyreese last, but that was all the information he had. He didn’t know where you went after that, and he didn’t know if you had managed to get out of the area you had been backed into. 
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Carl mumbled, setting the bag aside and leaning back against the couch. “I’m sure we’ll see her again, we just need to start looking.” 
“Yeah,” Rick agreed, spinning his wedding band around on his finger. He had no idea why he is still wearing it, him and Lori are very much done and over with and had been for a long time now, so why was he still wearing his ring? 
He looked down at the gold band, then without a second thought, he slid it off his finger and put it in his pocket, and thankfully Carl didn’t notice him doing that. He was still mourning his mom, and still getting used to you and Rick, the last thing needed was to see his dad move on completely from her. 
“Yeah,” Rick said again. “We’ll start looking for her. We’ll start looking for all of them.” 
He couldn’t lose you. He already lost so many people, and he was still recovering from watching the nicest man he had ever met get almost decapitated. He couldn’t lose you too. 
-
When Carol gestured for you to dig around inside the walker she just put down, you didn’t hesitate like you normally would. You didn’t get grossed out or feel nauseous. How could you?
Rick might be alive. 
Michonne and Carl were definitely alive, since you heard the piece of shit Terminus guy say he was going to kill them.
They’re alive. 
You blended right in, and when Carol blew up one of the tanks littered around Terminus, you and her were able to slip in amongst the walkers. Gunfire was heard all around as the large number of walkers made their way through the poorly protected walls of Terminus, and when you found yourself in a storage room, a feeling of rage took over you. 
There were countless things in there; teddy bears, weapons, jewelry, clothes, blankets, and anything else you could imagine a defenseless person would have. Carol found Daryl’s crossbow among the weapons, and you found Rick’s watch among the jewelry. These people were sick, taking things from people who were just trying to survive with what they have. 
You were livid as you and Carol slashed and shot your way through the crowds of walkers and Terminus people, and before long you were granted the one thing you’d be wishing for ever since you and Tyreese made it out of the prison. 
Rick, Daryl, Bob and Glenn let Maggie, Michonne, Carl, Sasha and three other people you had never seen before out of a train cart, then they were fleeing to the forest. 
You were frozen in shock, tears gathered along your water lines before Carol was pulling you with her as she took off after them. You were so relieved to see that mostly everyone had made it out, and that Rick, though he was a bit bloody, is okay. 
You stumbled alongside Carol as she followed the group, and when they stopped a good distance away, you could hear Rick’s deep voice as he declared that they were going back to finish the job. 
Stopping behind some bushes, you watched the group argue for a bit before Carol stepped away from the greenery and revealed herself. Almost instantly she was wrapped up in Daryl’s arms, and you watched the reunion with burning eyes as you revealed yourself as well.
Rick opened his mouth to say something to Carol, then his gaze flickered over to you and any words he was going to say died on his tongue. Your eyes glazed over again and you froze in your spot, and the last thing you heard was the relieved sigh Daryl let out as he took both you and Carol in, then you were wrapped up in Rick’s arms. 
His grip on you was the tightest it’s ever been, and you couldn’t breathe in the best way. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cling onto any part of him you can, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that the group, as well as the three new people, were witnessing you sobbing against Rick’s chest. 
You spent days with Tyreese, Carol and the girls, and after what happened with Lizzie and Mika, you were beginning to lose the little amount of hope you had left. You were terrified that the people you called your family were dead or lost somewhere. 
But here they are. Beth was missing, and though you were scared to know what happened to her, you couldn’t deny just how happy and grateful you are that you were reunited with most of them. 
“Y/n,” Rick mumbled and you held onto him tighter. “I thought you were gone.”
It sounded like those words physically pained him to say, and you shake your head before burying your face against the side of his neck. “I’m here,” you cry, reaching up to grip his shoulder. “I’m right here.”
Rick pulled back and gently gripped your jaw, his eyes taking in your features as if he still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him. “You got out,” he rasped, his thumb stroking your cheek with a barely-there pressure. 
You nod, tangling your hands in his damp hair. “With Tyreese, we found Carol a few days later,” you tell him then quickly add, “Well, she found us.”
Rick smiled at your words and it was the prettiest thing you’ve seen in weeks. “You got out,” he murmured, so quiet you barely heard it. 
You just nod again and push yourself upwards. Rick meets you halfway and kisses you multiple times, making you laugh against his mouth. “I got out,” you whisper and press a few kisses to his cheek and jaw, then you are wrapped up in his arms again.
Carl makes his way over to you just as Rick reluctantly lets you go and hugs Carol, and you smile down at your boyfriend’s son, who just wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you tight. “Hey, buddy,” you greet quietly, draping your arms over his shoulders as you glance back at Rick. 
“Hey,” Carl said back, looking up at you with relieved eyes and a look you’d never seen from him. “Missed you.”
Your lips part in a silent gasp, not used to hearing those kinds of words from him. You were sure he was still a bit upset that you were with his dad instead of his mom now, but were pleasantly proven wrong as he squeezed you one last time before stepping away. “I missed you,” you’re finally able to say as Rick comes back over and pulls you into his side. “And you.”
He grinned down at you and kissed the top of your head just as the red haired man speaks up, “You guys are the luckiest sons of bitches I’ve ever met,” 
You furrow your brows as Glenn laughs, wrapping his arm around Maggie’s waist. “We’re not lucky very often,”
“Yeah, well, both you and Rick here found your better halves,” the man said and adjusted the strap on his gun. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky. It’s a miracle we got out of that damn train, too.”
“That wasn’t luck,” Daryl grunted as he looked between you and Carol, and it was then when Rick clued in.
He tightened his hold on you as he asked, “That was you two, wasn’t it?”
You shrug while Carol lets out a rare, short lived laugh. “I couldn’t lose you again,” you mumble. “Not when I hadn’t even gotten you back yet.”
Rick falls silent at that, and he locks his jaw in the way that told you he’s holding back his emotions right now. He pulls you into his arms again and kisses the top of your head, muttering, “Thank you,” once he pulls away. 
“There’s something else,” Carol says, making everyone look over at her. “But I think we should show you rather than tell you.” 
And that was how you found yourself wrapped up in Glenn’s arms once Rick finally let you go after he saw that Judith was alive and being held by Tyreese. You return your best friend’s hug as you watch Rick cry quietly, taking Judith from the man who protected her with his life for as long as you’ve been separated. 
Maggie comes over to you and hugs you as well as Carl runs over to hug his sister, and the whole thing was like something straight out of a movie as you felt a warmth take over you.
You were back with your family. They were all alive. They were okay. 
The two men share a look as Rick realizes that he had Tyreese to thank for keeping Judith safe, then Sasha is hugging her brother with tears in her eyes. You pull away from Maggie as Rick hands Judith to Carl, then you are engulfed in his embrace. “Thank you,” his voice was raspy and his breathing was uneven, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears again as he held you tight. “I thought she was gone. I thought Judith was gone.”
You hugged him back, sniffling quietly. “We had to grab her quickly, we just took what we could before getting out of there,” 
Rick pulled away and kissed you, his hands reaching up to grip either side of your face. “I love you,” he mumbled, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed your forehead. “I love you so much. Thank you for keeping her safe, all of you.” He glances back at Carol and Tyreese, who just nod at him, then he is focused back on you. 
“I love you,” came your hushed reply, and you leaned in to rest your head against his shoulder, finally feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever.
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mercurygray · 1 day
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Small vent:
I keep running into posts in tags I follow where people say 'I want more [x]!!!'
Which is fine. We're all allowed to want more of whatever it is that's twirling our beanie this week.
But when x is a thing that you and several friends already do, and this person hasn't liked it, or reblogged it, or commented on it, despite the fact that it uses the same tag, or spoken to you or those people about the previous bits of it that already exist, I have to say, you're not helping your case here for having me jump back on the wagon to make more.
I know I don't create on command, but it sure helps when I know my work will be recognized, acknowledged, and appreciated afterwards, and people come to talk to me about it. This is a community. That's what communities do.
I don't see the expression your face makes when I post more, and I don't hear the squeal of joy when you get to the good part, and the simple fact is I don't know what you meant when you clicked the like button. And I can extrapolate a little when you do it on 10 or twelve posts in a row - but I don't actually know until you tell me.
(And I'm so lucky in this! There are so many people who follow my blog who *do* already do this! Thank you for being awesome! )
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the girl next door 2
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.   
Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.  
"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.  
"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.  
"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."  
"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.  
"So..."  
"Just go," she snips.  
You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.  
You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.  
You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.  
You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.  
"Dang it," you whisper.  
You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.   
"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"  
You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,   
that needs to be fixed too.  
You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.  
"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.
You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.   
"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.  
"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."  
You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."  
He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."  
You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.  
"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.  
You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.  
You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.  
"And your name? Neighbour?" 
You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out. 
“Is it just you over here?” He asks. 
You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy. 
“Oh, you got kids? A husband?” 
You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway. 
You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list. 
“Mom,” you say. 
“Ah, makes sense. You in school?” 
You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly. 
“Anyway...” he says. 
You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that. 
“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there. 
You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent. 
“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.” 
You huff and push the mower over. 
“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house. 
“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes. 
You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.” 
“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says. 
You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away. 
The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner. 
“You figure it out?” She asks. 
“No,” you flop onto the couch. 
“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.” 
“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.” 
“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers. 
You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is. 
🏠
Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind. 
As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil. 
You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’. 
You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you. 
You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair. 
“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat. 
“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.” 
“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.” 
“Oh, uh, okay.” 
You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 
She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin. 
“Hello?” She sweetens her tone. 
“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.” 
“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.” 
“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.” 
His smile is just as charming as his introduction. 
“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?” 
“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.” 
You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.  
“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.” 
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scoonsalicious · 9 hours
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Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 8
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, voyerism, coercive sex, manipulation, Pocket reaching her Ultimate Bitch Form.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Carthage has been spying on you and manipulating both you and Bucky from Day One.
A/N: THE FIRST TIME DIDN'T COUNT, GUYS!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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“She was just toying with you, Jamie, because she could. She doesn’t respect you. Do you honestly think she would pick you over Steve Rogers? Captain Fucking America? Especially with all the pain you’ve caused? The lives you’ve ended? Come on, Jamie, don’t be dumb.” Video Jade caressed Bucky’s shoulders.
Bucky’s face fell, and you knew she’d hit him where it hurt him the most.
Jade sat back on her haunches on the mattress. “Don’t be stupid, Jamie,” she reiterated. “Do you really think she’d want someone like you, who can’t even control their cock in a fight, when she could have America’s Golden Dick? I bet they laugh at you, how easy it is for them to get away with it, right under your nose. You think it’s just a coincidence that, as soon as you're out of the country, she’s seen by all of New York’s elite getting cozy with your best friend? The one person you asked her to stay away from? She was just waiting for you to get out of the picture so she can show her real boyfriend off to the public.”
You watched as Bucky’s entire body clenched, his face tightening in anger. “You said you wanted to get back at her,” Jade urged, putting her hands back on Bucky’s body. “To punish her for what she did. So punish her, Jamie. Use me. Use me to make her hurt the way she made you hurt. Don’t let her play you for a fool.” You saw Bucky struggle, at war with himself, but you could see the anger pulse through him, and you knew that, with this snake whispering in his ear, there was no way he could have come to any other conclusion than that you had betrayed him. You almost felt sorry for him– he didn’t have a chance.
“Come on,” she said, leaning Bucky back so he was lying propped up on the pillows. “You won’t even need to do anything. Let me take care of you, okay? Let Vixen make you feel good.” Bucky scrunched his eyes closed, putting his hands over his face. It was painfully clear he wasn’t an enthusiastic participant, but it still hurt knowing that he had been so angry at you for something you hadn’t done that he was willing to do this.
“We just have to get Little Jamie to come out to play,” Jade teased as she straddled him. Your view was obstructed by her body, but you had no doubt that she was jerking him off in an attempt to get him hard. 
It just… seemed to be taking a really long time. 
“Come on Jamie,” Jade said after a few minutes. “You gotta help me out here. Give me a little something to work with.”
It seemed to finally work after a while, and Jade re-positioned herself as she lined Bucky up with her entrance. You couldn’t watch anymore, so you shut your eyes. It didn’t stop you from hearing the horrible sounds of her moaning as she bounced up and down on his cock, though.
You thought you were going to be sick, but then you heard it, so soft that if you had your eyes open, your senses diluted, you would have missed it. “Pocket,” Bucky moaned. “Fuck, Pocket. Keep going, baby. I’m so sorry, doll. I’m so sorry. I love you so fucking much.”
His moans grew louder. “Pocket,” he cried, “God, baby, I miss you so fucking much!”
You started laughing. It was the fucking weirdest, most uncomfortable position you’d ever found yourself in in your entire life, but you couldn’t help yourself. 
“Oh my god,” you panted, trying to catch your breath as Jade looked down on you in confusion. “That’s the most pathetic thing I have ever seen!”
Jade wrapped a hand roughly around your throat and squeezed threateningly, cutting off your laughter. “What did you say?” she seethed.
You coughed when she’d released your neck and you could breathe again. A few drops of your blood had fallen from your nose to rest on Jade’s wrist. “I said, that’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” You jutted your chin toward the phone she still held. “You think that’s proof that he wants you? Oh, honey. You truly are a stupid cunt, aren’t you? He couldn’t even get hard for you without thinking about me. You were a convenient fleshlight– just a hole when I wasn’t available.”
You would have felt monstrous speaking to any other woman like that, truly, but you had to do everything in your power to keep her distracted, to keep her from moving forward with her plan to auction you off to the highest bidder, so that you could buy some time for the calvary to arrive. And besides, Carthage wasn’t just another woman– she was your fucking nemesis, and she deserved every foul word you could throw at her. 
God, you hoped Tony showed up first. The image of him sending Jade through the wall with a repulsor blast was enough to send you into fits of giddy laughter. Then maybe Bruce could toss her around like a ragdoll, the way he had with Loki. You’d pay to see that. You wondered if Carthage had headbutted you hard enough to cause a concussion– you certainly weren’t feeling fully in your right mind.
Jade backhanded you, the force of the blow so hard that your head snapped to the side, leaving you seeing stars. “You’re LYING!” she shouted. Grabbing you by the hair, she hoisted you up, metal chair and all, and slammed your face into the nearest wall. Perhaps she’d rattled a screw loose, because you couldn’t seem to get your laughter under control. “Don’t damage the merchandise, Vixey,” you coughed, spitting out even more blood. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my chances at auction, would you? Bad for business.”
“You fucking bitch!” Jade shouted. She ripped your bindings free from the chair and lifted you up by the throat. “Fuck–” she punched you in the stomach– “the auction!” In the face. “I’m gonna–” In the solar plexus– “fucking kill you–” back to the face– “myself!” Each blow was excruciating, and you were sure you’d heard a rib or two crack under the force of her fist, but still, you kept laughing at her. 
“Poor little fox,” you wheezed through the blood that was pouring down the back of your throat. “All those years wasted, thinking you could ever have a chance with him.” Your head lolled to the side as you tried to look up at her through your rapidly swelling eyelids. “Thinking you were special, that you were made for him, and you can’t even get his dick up. He’s so repulsed by you, he has to imagine being with someone else!”
“Shut up!” Jade screeched. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” She grabbed your left arm in her hands and snapped it. The pain was blinding, sending your vision into a white hot pulses. You screamed, holding the broken appendage to your body, as though that would protect you. You didn’t dare look down at it; knowing you’d be sick at the sight if you did, of your arm dangling uselessly at an unnatural angle. Instead, you curled yourself up into the fetal position, cradling your arm close to your core. 
Jade began pacing the room, tugging at her hair and mumbling to herself. You couldn’t quite make out what she was saying– you only caught snippets of words, like “fucking whore,” and “mine.” The girl had completely lost it, had completely gone off the deep end. Meanwhile, you suspected you were going into shock as you listened to the rat-a-tat-tat of your rapid heartbeat. 
No. You cocked your head, listening. That wasn’t the sound of your heart, beating out of your chest– that was the sound of gunfire echoing through the bowels of the base. You strained your ears. Mixed within the gunshots, you could hear screaming, voices crying out in agony and then cut short, as if their owners suddenly lost access to their breath. 
Through the distant din, you could make out a familiar voice, roaring with rage, and the sound filled your heart up like a balloon. “POCKET!”
You started laughing again.
Jade turned to look at you, her expression furious. 
“I feel sorry for you, Vixen,” you said, grinning like a madwoman. “Me?” she asked you incredulously. “I just snapped your arm like a fucking twig and am going to enjoy the shit out of killing you nice and slowly, and you feel sorry for me?”
You nodded vigorously, gleefully noting that the sound of battle was growing closer. Bucky called for you again, his voice contorted with rage and worry. Jade turned her head toward the sound, noticing it for the first time. “Yup,” you agreed, forcing yourself to stand and face her. You could feel the blood dripping from the corners of your mouth as you smiled from ear to ear. “Seems like my boyfriend’s looking for me, and when he sees what you’ve done, he’s going to kick your fucking ass.”
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
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rosewaterandivy · 1 day
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rack 'em up!
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Summary: in hustling, ya gotta keep the score real simple. count your money at the end of the game, and walk away.
Pairing: s.h. x fem! reader
WC: 1.6k
Warnings: NSFW 18+, drinking, cursing, & pool shark steve
A/N: A continuation of our Modern Love series featuring Steve 🥰 Reblogs, likes & feedback are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜
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The first time you’d met Steve Harrington, you hadn’t been yourself. It was Halloween night and one of your best friends had somehow convinced you to go out with her to a local bar. You were in your Audrey Horne finest — pink sweater, plaid skirt, Mary Janes and all — while your bestie had settled for the Log Lady, classic Twin Peaks. 
Thighs sticking to the cracked vinyl seat, you nursed a beer only half-listening to your friend’s bitching about her grad school class. Sitting at the bar, you felt exposed. And sure, she was there and had been supportive throughout this ordeal. But still — it was the first time you’d been out since the break-up. 
Shaking your head, you tried to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts which were proving less than helpful. She quickly noticed your discomfort, she worried her lips and tried to get the bartender’s attention. “We can go if it’s too much babe,” she murmurs softly, “Or at least head up to Paschal’s where it won’t be as crowded.”
“No, this is fine,” you insist, taking a sip from your beer, condensation gathering on the glass. “I’m just getting used to it is all.”
She gives you a small smile, “Okay, but let me know when you want to bounce.”
The bar fills up rather quickly from there. The breaking of racks sounds out from the pool tables in loud cracks, quickly followed by loud whoops and hollers. The pair of you were occasionally jostled by patrons opening their tabs and ordering food or drinks. Coming to the end of your beer, you nod to her and she signals for the check. 
Someone slides in behind you, sending your pint glass tumbling to the bar top the remnants of lukewarm beer readily making its way toward your lap. You quickly stand to avoid the spill and back up.
Large, warm hands lightly grasp your arms, causing you to jump, “Oh shit,” he says, voice apologetic, “That was my bad, I’m so sorry!”
Turning in the stranger’s grasp, you catch Liz’s wide-eyed gaze, “No harm, no foul,” you insist, “Quick reflexes and all.”
The sight of him makes you want to drop dead. A furrow in his brow and lip worried between his teeth — too handsome for his own good.
“Let me make it up to you.” His thumbs graze over the fabric of your sweater as you nod. He turns to the bartender and leans over the bar top to say, “Hey man, can I get two IPAs, a stout, and whatever else the lady would like?”
He glances back to you, waiting. 
“She had a saison!” Your friend helpfully pipes up from behind you. 
“Thanks,” he smiles at her, “Can I get you anything?”
She flushes under his attention and places her order before pulling you to the side out of earshot. Her eyes gleam in mischief when she says, “Ooh girl, he is fine.”
You can’t argue, he is objectively attractive. All coiffed hair and tan limbs, definitely out of your league. Involuntarily, you curl in on yourself.
“Hey,” she scolds, “Don’t do that.”
As if she could read your thoughts.
“Yeah, under Harrington man. Thanks!” 
Schooling your expression into a semblance of cool, you smile when he leans back hands you the drink, your fingers brushing briefly. 
“I am really sorry about that, by the way.” He says, eyes clouding over with worry. “Hope it didn’t ruin your night.”
“Not at all,” you say after taking a sip, “We were about to head out anyway.”
She elbows you something fierce and narrows her eyes.
“What she means to say, is that we were about to head upstairs.” 
The stranger nods, “That’s cool.” 
It’s only then that you notice the three other beers in his hands in a triangle formation, condensation growing steadily on each glass. You meet his gaze, “D’you need help with those?”
When he smiles, it’s slow and saccharine. “Don’t worry about it, honey.” He nods toward the pool tables, “But you can come along, if you’d like?”
Your best friend all but yanks your arm out as he walks toward a group of people surrounding the pool table. He hands the respective drinks to the man and woman arguing over stripes and solids. 
“I broke, so I get to call Rob!” The man with long hair pulled up into a bun insists. “It’s like, common courtesy.”
The woman, Rob, takes a brief sip of her beer, top lip coming away covered in foam. “But polite society dictates that you should offer the choice to me, Eddie.”
Eddie rolls his eyes before noticing the new additions to the group. “Harrington,” he says with a smile, “Care to introduce us?”
The man’s eyebrows raise, “Oh, um,” he begins before faltering. “This is—“
Your bestie swiftly butts in to introduce you both. “Nearly ruined her night,” she jokes, “Beer stained skirt is a sure-fire ticket home.”
Eddie laughs along with her and turns back to the game of pool. “Whaddya think then?” His eyes meet yours, “Solids or stripes?”
Robin scoffs indignantly and chalks her pool cue. 
His attention catches you off-guard, “Oh, um,” you echo Harrington, “Stipes, I guess?”
Eddie smiles and leans down to take his shot, “Excellent choice.” He sinks two stripes in the corner pocket and rises lazily to sip his beer.
Your friend, meanwhile, made herself scarce, socializing with Rob across the pool table. Harrington, first name unknown, eyed the game briefly.
“Take over for me?” 
He glances across the table and takes the outstretched cue. “Sure thing Rob.” He brushes past you with a cautionary hand to the small of your back, “Sorry.”
Your friend and Robin continue their conversation at a nearby high-top table, while Harrington lines up his shot. Left alone with your beer, Eddie makes his way to your side. “This game is about to become distinctly unfair,” he grouses.
“How so?”
“Steve’s a pool shark,” he shrugs, “Good thing Rob and I didn’t bet on this game, he’d take me to the cleaners.”
You laugh at that, “Well, considering that she abandoned the game, I think that makes any bets null and void.”
“Maybe so.”
You sip your beer, conversation with Eddie coming easily. “I could give him a run for his money,” You say off-handedly, “If you wanted to make it interesting.”
The cue ball cracks against the remnants form the rack, two solids falling into the side pocket. Eddie gives you a wicked smile, “That so, sweetheart?” He chuckles and takes a drink, “Bit of a hustler yourself?”
You shrug casually, “Had a shit dad,” you supply, “Learned a thing or two in the bars he frequented.”
“Fair enough,” he says before turning to Steve, “Harrington!”
Steve stops his perusal of the pool table. Eddie chalks up the cue and passes it to you. “Care to make this game a little more interesting?”
Bets are taken — 3 to 1 with odds in your favor; you had graciously elected to abstain from betting. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for your best friend. 
(“Oh my God, this is the greatest,” she crows, “The last time she played, she made a dude cry.”)
Steve, it had to be said, was indeed a shark; the game was evenly matched. Before long, a group had gathered around you to watch. Eddie kept the drinks coming while Robin insisted you both eat something. 
Steve lined up to take his turn; it was a long shot, “Eight ball, left corner pocket.”
As he leans over, his shirt rode up slightly along his back revealing tan skin and toned muscles. You feel yourself begin to get hot under the collar. Eddie thrusts a cold can of beer into your palm, “Steve, make yourself decent, for fuck’s sake.”
He blushes at that, shot falling just shy of his call. The eight ball rolling to a stop on the precipice of the pocket. You let out a low whistle, holding the can against your forehead for relief. 
“Wouldn’t be taking it easy on the lady, would you Harrington?”
Hazel eyes meet yours for a brief moment. He winks at you as you open the can to take a sip. “Not at all, Ed.”
You sip slowly, the cool beer alleviating your parched throat. Swallowing, you wipe a hand across your mouth and set the can aside. “That’s a shame,” you say approaching the table with a sway in your hips. “Get ready to pay up, pretty boy.”
Eddie cackles at that, Robin and your bestie howling in laughter. The patrons watching the game unfold let out whoops and whistles. It would be easy enough to simply tap the eight ball in the corner pocket, ending the game handedly. 
You instead opt to ricochet the cue ball along the sideboards with enough force to propel it into the corner pocket with an audible crack. A wave of cheers erupts around you as Steve’s head dramatically drops in defeat. Eddie, Robin, and your friend bumrush and crowd you against the pool table. 
“To the victor, go the spoils!” Robin hollers, turning you toward Steve.
You extend your hand, palm outstretched awaiting the payout. “Cough it up, pretty boy.”
With a huff, he digs his wallet from his back pocket and counts out the twenties. His fingers are warm against yours, you give him a small smile. “No hard feelings?”
He smiles in return, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Clasping the bills in your hand, you eye him up and down. Insecurity and shyness from earlier in the night alleviated from the progression of beers over the evening. “Tell you what,” you say, scrambling for a pen and paper, “If you ever feel like getting your ass handed to you again,” you jot down your number, “I’m available.”
He takes the scrap of paper from you with a slow smile, “Good to know.”
And if someone airdrops you a new contact before you leave, then so much the better.
Pretty Boy Steve: soooo, rematch?
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