#she started craning her neck up behind him and we knew she was thinking about jumping onto him lmao

[lo-carb]

The chicken who's bold enough to fly onto our shoulders decided to scale the horse after I put his blanket on 😩

#mine #horse #chicken #she started craning her neck up behind him and we knew she was thinking about jumping onto him lmao #we backed up case honestly I assumed if she actually jumped it would probably spook him #he just flinched a bit and gave her a few weird looks before not caring #she looked a bit confused after she jumped up there tho lol

[emmaiscool22]

Love Isn't Easy

Eustass Kid x female strawhat!reader

Warnings: angst to a teeny tiny amount of fluff, tipsy reader?, minor cussing, SOFT!KID (that's a warning itself lol), mention of a girl's night

this takes's place after wano (so minor wano spoilers!!!!) purely fictional and noncanon!!!

word count: 2328

I sit on a barrel watching Brook play his violin. Despite the cheerful atmosphere, I couldn’t help but feel the dread in my stomach. I take my eyes off Brook and to the shoreline of the island we stopped at. As soon as we ran into the Kid Pirates, Luffy declared that we were throwing a party despite Kid disagreeing. How he ended up getting Kid to agree, I have no idea. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?” 

I jump, surprised at the voice. I crane my neck to look behind me, the stress leaving my shoulders when I realize who it is. 

“I am not sure if I am being honest, Robin,” I answer. 

She nods, sitting next to me. I move my eyes from her to the redhead across the ship, his laugh booming across the lively atmosphere. I move to take another sip of my drink, the burn doing nothing to settle the uneasiness in my belly. 

“You should talk to him.” 

“He already said what he wanted to,” I sigh, remembering his words on Wano.

Robin looks towards him and back at me, “What about you? Did you say what you wanted?”

Robin glances at Kid, noticing his eyes following me while my attention is focused on Brook. I take a big gulp of my drink, emptying it. I set it down next to me and grab another one, popping off the lid. I don't want to be here, I am in no mood for partying. 

“Whatever I do, I can’t get my mind off of Kid. It’s ruining me, Robin,” I let my feelings out for the first time, “I can’t sleep, his words just repeat in my head.”

“I never loved you. I will never love you.”

I stand up, moving forward, stumbling slightly. “I am headed to bed.” 

Before Robin can say anything, I head towards the girl’s quarters. In the middle of my journey there, I am stopped by someone voicing my name. I know that voice. I wordlessly shake my head and continue, needing to get off the deck. He says my name again, closer this time. I need to get off this ship, I think. My march to the girl’s quarters changes directions to the beach. The laughter and music fade into the background the farther I get from the ship. I stop when I feel far enough away without losing sight of the ship. I nestle into the sand, hoping to stake a claim here for the rest of the night. My heartbeat slows as the sea breeze and the tide calm me down. 

“Why did you leave?” 

I stiffen. 

“I wanted some fresh air,” I mutter. 

He chuckles, “That’s a lie.” 

I didn’t say anything else. I want to scream at him, tell him everything that has been consuming me for the months since Wano. But I can’t. 

Kid plops down right next to me in the sand. “I might not like him, but Strawhat sure knows how to throw a party,” Kid gulps his drink, throwing the empty bottle in the sand.

I still say nothing. 

“So we not talkin’ or somethin’?” He asks, turning his body towards me.

I try to find the courage to say something, anything, but alas, nothing comes to mind.

He stares at me trying to catch my eyes that are firmly set on the rolling tide. After a couple of minutes, he speaks again

“You know,” he starts, “Heat and Wire miss your presence on the ship. Said that something is missing… I don’t know. I told them we knew you were only stayin' for 2 years but they got attached to you.”  

I couldn’t help but scoff and mumble, “All I did on your ship was complain about you and missing my friends.” 

“She speaks!” He shouts and laughs. 

I stare at him. I forgot how his smile covered his whole face, or how he would whip his arms around when he got excited. The muscles flex as his flesh arm waves around in the air. No. I can’t think about him, not like this. Not when he broke my heart. I move to stand up and wipe the sand off my legs. My feet taking me towards the ship once more. I didn’t want to be alone with him. Suddenly a hand grabs mine, pulling me back. 

“Leaving me so soon?”

I shiver at his words. I can feel tears beginning to slide down my face. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. Kid pulls at my hand once more to get me to turn around. He says something, but all I can hear is my heart trying to tear itself out of my chest. Suddenly, someone starts calling my name from the ship, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“I have to go back,” I whisper, tugging my hand harshly out of his grip. 

I sway towards the calling voice, the alcohol still moving about my system. I can see Sanji leaning over the edge of the ship, looking down at the shoreline for me. A couple heads peek next to him, Robin, Chopper, and Luffy. I remember Robin's words from before: 

“What about you? Did you say what you wanted?”

I do have things I want to say. I spin around, catching Kid off guard. He looks at me with surprise at my sudden actions. “What are you doing?” he demands. 

“I don’t want to love you anymore.” I blurt out. 

His eyes widen. 

“I don’t want to love you, but for some reason I do, even though you hurt me. I fell in love with you during the two years I was on your ship, and I felt like you loved me. We spent every day training together, and hanging out, and I felt like we got close. I wish I was the one you thought about before you went to bed, or the one you wanted to spend your days with. But in Wano you told me the opposite after I confessed my love for you... Why won’t you love me back?”

It takes him a moment to speak, “let’s get you back,” he grumbles, “you’re drunk Y/N.” 

At his words, I cry harder and drop to my knees, his flesh hand grabs my shoulder, “Don’t touch me!” I sob. He tries to say something but his mouth just opens and closes. His metal hand comes to my other shoulder to hoist me up, but my words have him stumbling back. 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!”

My hand grabs at the sand and chucks it towards him. My sobs ring out into the open air along with the faint sound of music and laughter. 

“I would listen to Y/N, Eustass,” a voice commands.

My eyes stay on the sand, while Kid’s head snaps towards the voice. A gentle hand rests on the shoulder in the place of Kid’s. A soft voice whispers, “You are okay Y/N, we are here for you.”

The hand begins to gently stroke my hair. I look up and lock eyes with Nami. 

“Can you stand up?” She asks. 

I nod my head slowly, planting my hands on the ground to push my body up. She wraps an arm around me and leads me towards the ship. 

“Y/N-” Kid starts but is cut off by Robin.

“You hurt her enough, don’t make it worse.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -- - - - - - - - - -

“He’s an idiot, Y/N,” Nami states while she brushes my hair. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” I sigh, “I could see you and Killer getting along.”

Nami laughs, “Oh Y/N, he couldn’t handle me.”

We both laugh, warmth coming to my chest as I smile. The silence that follows is comfortable, basking in each other's presence. A soft knock comes from the door, the door squeaking open, revealing Robin, smiling slightly. After a few moments of chit-chatting, Nami stands up.

“Let’s have a girl’s night,” Nami shouts, “I will ask Sanji to make us some snacks! We can do our nails and have a good time together!” 

I smile and nod, and Robin voices her agreement. Nami skips out of the room to find Sanji while Robin and I get out all of the nail polish. Once we settle onto the floor, I take a moment to look at her and gather up the courage to ask her the question I have been dying to know the answer to since the beach. Reading my mind, she states, “He didn’t hurt me,” she smiles, “After you walked away, he asked me to grab Killer and that was it.” 

I nod slowly as Nami bursts back into the room along with Sanji, who is holding out drinks and our favorite snacks. “Y/N-swannnnnn, Robin-swannn!” He guides the tray to us, “Here you are, my lovely ladies!” 

He hands us our drinks and snacks, and leaves the room, letting us know that he can make us anything else we want. For the next couple of hours, we pamper ourselves, doing our nails, and hair, and talking about our most recent adventures. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -- - -- - - -- - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - --

I toss and turn in bed, shoving the blankets off my legs. Laying there for a few moments, I cover back up, uncomfortably cold. Groaning, I decide to get up and make some tea, hoping it will help me sleep. I slip my sandals on, glancing at Nami and Robin to make sure I haven’t woken them. I slip out into the hallway, no one in sight. The Kid Pirates must have gone back to their ship at some point, I think. I make my way to the kitchen only to be stopped by the sight of a shadow by the head of the Sunny, “Luffy?” I whisper confused about why he was out here this late, moving my way toward the dark figure. 

“Sorry sweet cheeks,” Kid mutters, “I am not Strawhat.” 

I take a step back, startled by his presence, “K-kid, what are you doing here?” 

“I was thinking about you if I am being honest.”

I take another step back, the idea of tea lost in my mind, just hoping to escape to the solace of my bedroom.

“I am sorry for what happened on the beach,” Kid apologizes.

This stops me from moving. Kid apologizing? 

I find my voice, “Killer tell you to say that?”

“No,” Kid snarls, “I wanted to fucking apologize myself.” 

I take a deep breath and I dare myself to be bold, “What are you doing here?”

“I was practicing…” he trails off.

“Practicing?”

“I need to practice without Killer shoving words down my throat.”

“I don’t understand.”

He doesn’t respond and just looks at me. I suddenly feel self-conscious at his scrutinizing. We stand in the darkness for a few minutes, before he breaks the silence.

“You asked me why I didn’t love you back earlier.” He pauses before he continutes, “Umm, Killer told me I needed to sort out my thoughts and feelings before I talked to you again. But I hate the idea of not talking to you. When you confessed to me after I ran into you after escaping Udon, I was surprised. I couldn’t believe it. Why would you love me? I said the things I did to hurt you, I can’t have you loving me. I am incredibly selfish. As soon as you said it, I wanted to take you away. I wanted- I want you all to myself. But I hurt you instead of telling you the truth.”

Kid takes a deep breath, and grabs my hand. 

“The truth is, I realized that I have developed strong feelings for you. It started as a simple admiration, but over time, it has grown into something deeper. The way you make me laugh, the way you care for others, the way you fight, and the way you light up a room with your presence... it all captivates me. When you found me after Kuma separated your crew, I knew I was fucked. The look on your face when you asked if you could stay on the Victoria, I couldn’t say no. I knew I loved you the minute you told Heat off for stealing food from your plate one night at dinner. I am selfish for telling you this all now but -” 

I cut him off, “You love me?” 

He nods, “Yes.”

“And you’re not just saying it to say it 'cause it's what I want to hear?”

“I love you Y/N.”

“It would have saved me a whole lot of tears and heartache if you just told me.”

Kid nods again, “I know.”

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

I take a bold step forward towards him and wrap my arms around him. His arms slowly wrap around my body, his warmth seeping into me. 

“It’s going to take me a while to forgive you, but thank you for telling me how you feel.”

“I understand,” Kid says, “but can I ask you something?”

I pull back from his embrace, enough to see his face staring down at me, “what is it?” 

“Can I kiss you?”

My heart hammers in shock. But slowly, I nod my head, not trusting my words. His flesh hand moves to cup my cheek while his metal one lays across the small of my back. He leans in halfway, his eyes searching mine for any sign of wariness. When he finds none, he closes the gap, his lips hovering over mine. I can feel the warmth of his breath and the slight tickle of his lips ghosting mine. I push my toes into the ground, leaning up to press my lips against his. His chapped lips move in sync with mine, but before either one of us can deepen the kiss, Kid pulls away, his forehead against mine. “I am sorry again for how I acted, I am going to try and make it up to you before our crew departs.” Kid mumbles. 

I don’t say anything, just take him in. I couldn’t forgive him just yet but I knew that I would love him forever. 

#one piece #eustass kid #eustass x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #kid pirates #straw hat pirates #straw hat crew #one piece kid #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass captain kidd

[auteurdelabre]

CODE BROKEN (part 5/5) dark!Joel x f!Reader

pairings: dark!Joelxf!Reader (she's you!)

rating: 18+ (scram youngins!)

Words: 12.0k (wtf how?)

Warnings: femdom (if you squint), hands off, cockwarming, sweet dirty talk, Joel whimpers, sweet!Joel, fluff and angst, protected p in v.

a/n: Y’all this was one of those weird stories that I wrote and posted to A03 that no one commented on. Then just as I was giving up all these people on tumblr and then A03 started being like “we want more dark!joel!” and because I can’t deny you anything, I kept going. And now we’re here and I’m actually kinda heartbroken I won’t be writing about these two anymore. Anyway, I thought this concluded things nicely and if you agree (and even if you don’t) please leave me a comment because I don’t make shit on these. It’s all for the love of writing (and getting’ comments).

Code Broken Parts 1 - 4

==========================================

Code Broken: Total Eclipse of the Heart

Trish's wedding is beautiful and sentimental and everything you knew it would be. Seeing her in the dress you spent months making, beaming as she kisses her husband Cliff makes your heart swell.  

When the group throws the multicolored confetti and it lands like snow in her rust colored hair you think it's the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. 

They've decorated the old church basement beautifully. Handmade bunting hangs from rafters; lopsided cakes made from whatever could be spared from the kitchen line the tables. The children of Jackson are shrieking and laughing as they spin around the crowd of people, darting between legs with icing smeared over their mouths.  

You're tired after all the lead up to this event. Exhausted after the preparation, the decorating, and the assurances to Trish that it was no trouble to do it all. Trish holds her son in her arms, smiling up at her husband who presses a kiss to her forehead.  

You sit back in your chair at one of the tables watching the crowds drinking and dancing as a few of the locals play a surprisingly in-tune melody with the instruments they possess. 

"You did a wonderful job," Maria tells you as she walks by. "Wish I'd had you around for my wedding."

You smile and thank her before you lean back; eyes sleepily half-open as you watch the couple nearest to you spin together.

Mark gives you a wave from across the room, his arm around the waist of Jenny, one of the newer people to have moved here. She gazes are him adoringly and this makes you smile as you return the wave. 

You’d never say it, but it makes you feel a bit like an outsider seeing all your friends coupled up. Even though you never needed anyone else, the thought of another person sharing in your life has its appeal. 

"Hi there." 

The husky voice behind you is quiet and careful. Low enough for only you to hear. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder. Joel is standing there looking down at you seated at the table. 

Joel is dressed like most of the men here in jeans and a button up. His hair is combed back and he smells good. Spicy like cologne, a rare commodity in Jackson.  

The sight of him pulls at your lower belly. Despite the weeks that have passed since you saw him last, that desire you carry around for him hidden behind your ribs seeps through. 

He's staring at you similar to how he was the last time you saw him, dark and heated and you momentarily shrink from his intense gaze. 

You haven't seen him since that day in the stables when you rushed off and you expected to be more furious with him. Instead you just feel gentle irritation mixed with a lust you wish you could will away. 

"Hi."

He's got his hands in his pockets, standing awkwardly like he's nervous. Joel nervous? You think you must be misunderstanding because Joel Miller is never* nervous.

You've seen him break unruly horses, heard stories of him taking down clickers and Raiders. Why would he be nervous talking to you?

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmurs.

What the fuck?

You blink up at him confusedly. Did Joel Miller just call you beautiful? When you don't answer you see him swallow, eyes going to your shoulder before coming back to your gaze. He looks like he's about to say something but then another voice breaks in between you like a knife slicing through the air. 

"Hey come dance with me!"

You both look over to see Mark approaching you with an expectant look on his face, hand held out towards you. His girlfriend Jenny is dancing with some of her friends to the music the band is playing and she gives a cheery wave in your direction followed by a mouthed: "come dance!". 

You feel Joel's eyes boring into your profile as you look up to Mark. 

"Sure!"

You stand, taking his hand as he tugs you to him. He must notice Joel standing there, half encased in shadows because he starts. 

"Oh hey Joel," Mark says with a broad smile. "I didn't see ya there. Just gonna steal this one for a dance."

You can see Joel's cheek tic as Mark spins you away, Joel's dark eyes fixed on you as Mark tugs you around in his arms on the dance floor. You feel strangely giddy at the moment. Almost delighted that Joel is watching you being swept away by another man, even if it is platonic. 

You want Joel uncomfortable. You want him to be just as miserable as you've been these past few weeks. Because you can't get him out of your head, you can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop thinking about the softness of your last interaction. 

Mark is a very bad dancer, but not as bad as you. He does goofy over exaggerated facial expressions as he kicks out his legs. You laugh breathlessly, clutching onto him when he twirls you around in his arms.  

You catch Joel's eyes on you a few times, but resolutely turn your attention anywhere else. You notice Tommy comes up to talk to him, but Joel's eyes never leave Mark's hands on your body. They skim over your hips and you can see Joel's fingers tighten around his drink glass. 

Mark guides you towards Jenny and the rest of the group. Trish and Cliff are dancing up a storm and Cliff surprises you by grabbing you by the waist and raising you into a spin that lifts your feet off the ground. You give a shriek of laughter, clutching to his shoulders before he sets you down again.  Finally the song is over and you are breathless and sweaty at the temples. 

"Thanks, I needed that!"

Mark flashes you a grin before waving you off and going to pull Jenny into a tight embrace from behind. 

The music slows and you watch as everyone begins to pair up on the dance floor, hands slinging around waists, heads balanced on shoulders. It makes a tear go through your heart, a sudden feeling of awkward isolation.

You're about to leave the dance floor when you feel the heat of another body behind you. You smell him, wood shavings and leather. 

"You wanna dance?"

You turn to see Joel standing there, mouth fixed sternly as he gazes down at you. 

Shock floods your system at his words. Is he really asking you to dance with him? He wants to hold you and spin you around on the dance floor in front of all these people? He wants to publically be seen with you?

Joel doesn't dance. He barely attends events like this. You've never seen him at the summer dance party. If he is dragged to an event along with Tommy he sticks to the wall, arms crossed nursing a drink. What kind of game is this?

"Are you serious?"

He allows this insult, amusement clear in his eyes but not the rest of his features.

"I was, yeah."

You think of how shitty he's treated you over the past year. The way he's fucked you every which way and never kissed you. You think of how he's taken you and used you and you sneer up at him, feeling prickly. 

"Never."

Joel's mouth twitches into a deep frown and you can see red creeping up his neck. You've embarrassed him. 

Good.

Nearby couples are watching this exchange with curious looks. Both of you seem to notice this at the same time. 

"G'night then."

Joel gives a sharp nod, backing away from you slowly before his long muscled legs are carrying him out of the church. You watch him leave, your stomach twisting before you throw yourself into a nearby chair, head spinning. 

What just happened? 

You spend the next hour making polite conversation with the people who pass you, giving Trish a hug when she comes to thank you for the twentieth time for everything.

"I want to have you over for dinner next week," she says, eyes filled with thankful tears. 

"You're on."

You make your way back to your house, passing by the still partying group smiling and waving. 

When you round on Rancher Street you think about Joel tonight. Of his nervousness and his calling you beautiful. Of asking you to dance in front of everyone. Didn't he care about the gossip? He’s notoriously private.

You can see a light is on in his house and this gives you pause. You consider going home and forgetting everything. Ignoring him for the rest of your days. But then something unknown sends your pulse spiking, something that leads your feet to his door and commands you to knock loudly. 

You hear his footsteps pad slowly to the door, opening it and looking at you with surprise. He looks tired and you wonder if you’ve woken him. He’s wearing the same clothes though so you assume you caught him napping on the couch.  

"What're -"

You push your way inside, not waiting to be invited. Joel allows this, watching you in confusion as you go to his sofa and shrug off your jacket. 

You're looking around at his place, at the empty fireplace and the cracked mug on the coffee table, the book tented beside it. Your fingers absently strum his guitar as you pass it, a small smirk on your lips. 

Joel walks towards you slowly, footfalls heavy as he regards you from behind curious eyes.

"Take a seat," you say casually motioning to the sofa as he approaches. 

Joel doesn't move, doesn't indicate he hears you. You watch his wide hands twitch at his sides, his dark eyes set on you. You tilt your head back, face serious. 

"You owe me this much, Joel."

Joel's tongue goes to one side of his cheek as he considers this. This feels like a standoff, a battle of wills. You wait until he finally gives a nod and lowers himself to his sofa, eyes never leaving yours. 

You feel such a mixing confusion of emotions for the man looking at you. No, he's gazing at you. Eyes that were always cold and peering now seem softer around the edges. It confuses you. 

You're still standing by the empty fireplace, holding your trembling fingers against the mantle. You take a sharp breath in, quietly.

"Take yourself out of your pants."

Irritation flares there in Joel's features. You've pushed too far. 

"N-"

"Joel if you ever want to see me again you'll do this," you say sharply. "I mean it."

You hope that it doesn't come out as breathless as you feel because right now you can barely breathe. This is a big gamble. There's a very good chance he's going to kick you out as he's always done.

But then you think of him calling you beautiful and asking you to dance. You think of the looks he gives you when he thinks you're not looking and you consider that perhaps he might acquiesce.  

You school your features, sure not to look shocked when Joel's hand finally goes to his belt, undoing it with one jerked movement of his hand. Then he stills as if waiting for you to admit that this is a game that he doesn't have to continue.

But you square your jaw and cross your arms in front of you. You raise a brow and find yourself getting aroused at the power shift. For once you're telling Joel what to do and much like you were that night in his house, kneeled in front of him, he wants it just as badly as you do. 

Slowly his zipper is lowered, his jeans shifted and you watch as he brings his cock from underneath his boxers. You blink slowly.

"Already hard," you say approvingly as your eyes scan his already weeping cock. "Good."

Joel isn't smiling, but he isn't furious either. He's just sitting there, arms moving to either side of him on the back of his sofa. It's as if he's relaxing, about to watch the TV he doesn’t own. He continues looking up at you with big brown eyes, his cock rosy and resting on his lower belly. 

He isn't trying to look intimidating. He just naturally is.  

He watches you tug down the panties from under your dress, stepping out of them and shoving them into your dress pocket. His eyes move from your pocket to your face as you move to the sofa on trembling legs. He watches as you stand in front of him, knees touching. You take a deep breath, lifting one leg over his until you bracket his thighs. 

"What is this?" Joel asks tone icy even as he shifts to accommodate you. 

"I need something to come on tonight," you tell him. "And I've decided your cock will do nicely."

He says nothing. He doesn't move, doesn't deny this request. He simply continues to stare up at you. His lack of reaction unnerves you, but you plunge ahead regardless. 

"You got a condom?"

Joel reacts slowly, tongue pushing into the side of his cheek once more. He considers your question before his hips shift up as he reaches in and pulls the square foil from his back pocket. He holds it out to you.

"Expecting to get lucky tonight, Joel?" 

 "Nope." 

You raise a brow in disbelief. Joel sighs through his nose irritably.

"Was hopin', not expectin'." 

You make a scoffing noise in the back of your throat before you motion to the condom with your hand. You expect defiance from him but he slips it on without question, his movements slow and measured as you watch. 

You've always thought his hands were beautiful in a large, masculine way. Tonight is no different watching him hold his thick cock as he pinches the end of the condom before rolling it down. 

When he's finished you move him to your entrance, eyes fixed on his face. He continues to stare in silence until you slide your already dripping cunt down his cock. 

Then he reacts.

"Fuuuck," Joel groans, head tilted back and eyes slammed shut. You work your way down him, humming as his ridges bump inside, creating delicious friction before you come to rest against his hips. 

You can tell he's waiting for you to move, to make noise, to do something. But you just sit there with your legs on either side of him, wrists balanced lightly on his shoulders. For once you'll be the one watching him unravel. 

You peer into his face, your eyes sliding along the strong nose, the creases at the corner of his eyes, the fullness of his lower lip. You long to reach out and nibble it. It's sinful to have a mouth that kissable on a man so recalcitrant. 

Joel's eyes remain closed, his pulse ticking away in his neck. You see his throat bobbing and then he groans. His broad hands rest gently against your waist, urging you against him. His hips shifting upwards to fuck into you. Your hands go to his chest and you push back from him. 

"You don't move. You don't touch."

Joel's eyes snap open, head lifting to stare into your face. You're on his lap, almost at eye level now. You see the fire starting, burning in the dark coals of his eyes. The air is thick with tension, his body almost vibrating against yours. 

"And if I do?"

"I'll jump off your lap so quick it'll make your head spin," you tell him sharply. "Then I'll leave and never come back. And I'll make sure my bedroom window stays locked." 

This heavy threat hangs between you. To your credit you say it all without trembling. You sound self assured, confident. Even with Joel buried to the hilt inside you, his thick cock pulsing, you manage to stay composed. 

Joel considers your proposal but not for long when he feels you begin to rise up off of him. His hands remove themselves from around your waist, returning to the back of the threadbare sofa. 

You watch him tense before nodding, his mouth in a grim line of frustration. 

Good. He fucking deserves it.

You lower yourself slowly back fully onto his lap, his cock warm and thick as you welcome it between your thighs once more. You sigh softly as it nestles there, filling you deliciously. He always feels so good. 

"So I just sit here?" Joel murmurs; his eyes shuttering as he forces his hips to remain still.  

You find that his voice is just as potent as his cock, your head tilting forward in order to catch every syllable that passes between those pouty lips of his. 

"Uh huh," you say plainly.

Joel gives a solemn nod at this, his eyes not leaving your mouth. His arms are still hanging along the back of the sofa but his hands are tightening against the ridge of it. He braces himself, watching with hawk-like focus as your hips begin to shift again. 

You smile at the way he struggles to remain still when your thighs spread over him, flashing the glossy sheen of your inner thighs and cunt. You're already drenched with arousal. 

You groan as his length grazes your clit when you move. Your wrists once more go to his broad shoulders for purchase as you begin to bounce slowly in his lap. Your head falls forward slightly, your back arching as you slide along his slick cock. You feel his mouth at your ear, husky and deep. 

"M'I allowed to ask for anythin'?"

You pause your motions in surprise by this soft utterance by Joel. You shift your head slightly to find his face inches from yours. He doesn't let anything show in his eyes good or bad. You regard him, body stilled atop his, almost breathing into his mouth when you speak.  

"What do you want?"

"A kiss."

The sibilant sound of his request echoes in the following silence. Joel's eyes register hope now, a subtle kind of need that you haven't seen before in him. 

You find you can't answer him. 

Instead you take him deeper into you and Joel makes a soft humming noise, it seems like it slips past his lips unwillingly. He bites down on his full lower lip, stopping himself. 

You can see he's trying not to give in, not to make a sound as you slide up and down on his hips in achingly slow movements. His eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched so tightly you're shocked he doesn't break a tooth.

Your head moves forward, lips grazing his temple. 

"You like that, Joel?" You huff against his ear. "You like me using this cock of yours to come on?"

He lets out a shuddering sigh, chest heaving. 

"F-f..fuck. Yeah."

Then you feel it, his hand creeping between where you join. His fingers desperately sliding over your clit.

You stand abruptly and he slides out of you so rapidly his hips stutter midair. 

"What are you---"

"I told you. Tonight you don't move and you don't touch."

Joel's neck is a blotchy red, his forehead is dotted with perspiration and he looks absolutely wrecked. 

When you step back towards him he inhales sharply, eyes on the glistening vee of your legs. You align him to the entrance of your cunt and then slide back down the length of his shaft almost angrily. 

"Fuck.... Fuck ... " Joel groans helplessly, doing everything in his power to keep still. You hear the squelch of your cunt as you ride him.  

You grip the back of Joel's neck, fingers harshly digging there and forcing his gaze down to where your bodies join. 

"You fucking watch," you tell him, cunt squeezing him as you rock against his hips. "You watch and you don't touch."

Joel watches the slick of your cunt drooling down his cock and he almost whimpers, but it's overtaken by a groan. 

"Why are you punishin' me?" Joel asks through clenched teeth, eyes fixated on your clit dragging along the hairs at the base of his cock.

"I'm giving you everything you gave me," you tell him with poison dripping from every word, sliding up and down. "Using you to make myself come."

"I never did that," Joel says breathing heavily, eyes now fixed on yours. You can see how they roll slightly back with every twist of your hips. 

"Never, Joel?"

"Once," he relents. "Only once. Rest of itttt---"

He breaks off into a guttural grunt as your hips swivel. You feel his cock nudge that sweet spot deep within you and your hips rut against him. You make a whining sound of surprise that you think goes down his spine because he quivers. 

"The minute you come I'm fucking you over this sofa," Joel warns, mouth at your throat, lips grazing your jugular.

"I don't think so," you tell him, fingers laced behind his neck. "Once I come I'm going home and going to bed."

Joel's head is heavy against the back of the sofa, his lidded eyes on your face. You move slower over him, wanting extend this. Needing to watch the flicker of his eyes when you hit a good spot, needing to relish the moans that turns into deep pants. When you ease off a moment, your cunt slippery with want his voice drops an octave rumbling through his chest. 

"You ever think about me fucking you in your bed, pretty eyes?"

"Yeah," you admit after a pause. "Sometimes."

"I can do it now," Joel purrs up at you. "Make you feel so good."

"Nice try."

You've started to swirl back around his cock and he moans lowly. Your thighs are starting to burn with the effort of bobbing up and down on him. Joel's eyes snap to your mouth, watching it part as you pant and give soft little whines of pleasure. 

Joel's eyes blow wide, desperation and hope mingled there. His hairline is damp, his restraint obviously hanging by a thread. 

"Wanna come for you," he says, voice quiet. 

Having Joel at your mercy feels good. Having him looking at you in the same way you looked at him over the passing months feels like vindication. All too soon you've pulled back, only allowing the tip of his cock to graze your clit. 

"Beg for it," you tell him as your hips roll, making him grunt and pitch forward. His hips rise, plunging deeply into you, his body unable to stop itself. You allow it, jolting from his thrust a few moments before you pull yourself off of him, scowling.

"I'm not saying it again, Joel."

Joel groans and his body trembles, actually physically trembles. His head is sagging forward, his eyes looking up at you through his dark lashes. 

"I don't ... I can't keep goin'," he says raggedly. "I'm gonna come."

"You’d better not." 

Now you turn and face away from him, lifting your dress to bunch at your waist. You look down over your shoulder at him, seeing him looking over your exposed ass with awe. With your back to him you slowly back up and your legs bracket his again. 

Joel whispers something urgent under his breath as you lower yourself onto his cock, sitting in his lap. Your legs spread widely, hinging over each of Joel's thighs.

His cock hits you different now, tighter, nudging that pleasured core inside that makes you cry out. Your hands go to Joel's knees, bracing there as you urge his cock deeper into your slippery cunt. 

"Please," Joel says through gritted teeth. He's panting now, breath sweet like peppermint huffing against the back of your neck. You twist, eyes cast over your shoulder at him. 

"Please what?"

Joel's head lolls forward, eyes slowly cracking open. You looks absolutely ruined and to you, Joel Miller has never looked sexier. 

"Please lemme make you come," Joel all but whimpers. You can hear the desperation creeping into his voice. "Then let me fuck you properly."

There is a wild moment where you consider denying him. Where you think of pulling yourself off of him and never seeing him again. Making him ache for you the way you ache for him in those dark, quiet times.

"Please baby," Joel whispers, his fists clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles are almost translucent. "Fucking need to make you come. Please."

Joel Miller is begging you.

 Begging.

Something snaps in you, desire licking between your legs. You tilt back until your spine is flush with his front, his cock still buried in your cunt. 

He's gazing down at you, steady and dark and if you didn't know better you'd say your pose could almost appear loving. Your head balanced back on his shoulder, your palm going to stroke his cheek. He swallows at the contact, his mouth drifting towards yours. 

"Go on then," you tell him, lips nearly grazing his. "Make me come, Joel."

The words aren't even out of your mouth before he thrusts his thighs apart. Your legs are slung over his, so you feel them parting luridly, exposing your glistening sex to the night air. 

One of Joel's hands is sliding up your dress to cup your breast, the other slipping over your thigh to thumb your slick clit between your puffy pussy lips. You quiver at the immediate pleasure of the sensation his touch brings, your cunt tightening around his cock. 

"Goddam you feel like heaven," he groans into the back of your neck making you preen. 

His hips begin a slow but deepened pace, jostling you in his lap. You groan against his neck, eyes closed languidly. 

"That's right," Joel croons when you gasp deeply. "Fucking go on, baby. Take it. S'all for you."

You begin to whimper, shaky needful sounds as your hand clutches at his neck, your forehead braced against the side of his jaw as he fucks into you from behind, holding you there in his lap.

"So good," Joel says in that husky drawl of his. "You're so fucking gorgeous like this."

All too soon you feel that heavy thump between your legs, the building crescendo. Joel groans as he feels you edge your climax, his body quaking under you. He holds you against him tighter, his rumbling moans vibrating against your spine. 

"Wanna make you feel so good," Joel rasps in the shell of your ear. "Wanna give you everything. Please come for me, baby. Lemme hear you."

At his last words you begin to shatter against him, an unholy sound breaking from your throat. 

"Oh yeah- just like that pretty eyes," Joel says grinding deeply into you, his voice husky in your ear. "Fuck, just like that, yeah. Yeah, fucking use me, baby. Take what you need."

Your hands grip his tightly against your front and you both move together in some carnal dance. Him thrusting deeply into you as you arch back into him. Your throat is exposed and your mouth parts, an inchoate cry on your lips. 

"That's my girl," he groans in your ear before pressing sloppy kisses to the side of your bared neck. "That's right baby, you keep goin' just like that."

It's cathartic and overwhelming as everything that has been tensed in your body suddenly releases. It momentarily frightens you in its severity and you cry out. 

"Joel!"

"I've got you," Joel soothes, arms holding you tightly against him almost in a bear hug. "Just ride it out. There you go, there you go. Feel all of it, c'mon baby. I've got you."

You do. You ride it out, body shaking against him as you chase your pleasure chanting his name over and over as he murmurs gentle praise against your temple. 

"So good....so fucking beautiful... All for you..."

Finally the trembling ceases and you sag in his arms breathing deeply. You feel wrung out, totally exhausted in both body and mind. Joel's soft mouth is on your shoulder blade pressing a long kiss to it. You melt into the sensation, warmed by the feel of his lips on your body. 

"Mine."

It's whispered, not meant for you to hear, but you do. It makes your spine straighten and your body lurch from him. 

On jellied legs you struggle to a stand, tripping over your own feet as Joel tucks himself back into his jeans, cock still hard when he pulls off the condom. 

"Baby, wait -"

But you don't. You're not his baby. This isn't love. This was payment, this was retribution. This wasn't an act between partners or even friends. You're practically strangers to one another. 

You push his door open and stagger home, muscles tight. You still can't believe what you just did. The way you just demanded pleasure from Joel. The power you'd felt when he begged to come. You feel heady, you feel...

Empty.

Empty because now as you collapse onto your own sofa you feel tears prick your eyes. Yeah, you fucked Joel Miller. But it doesn't change anything. You're still here in your house alone.

All alone. 

You go to the bookshelf, bringing down the album you so often flip through. You open it to the photo of you and your sister at age eight, arms linked as you squint in the sunshine, gap-toothed smiles on display. 

You love that photo because you can sometimes remember that day. Remember how the sunshine felt on your bare shoulders, how your sisters arm linked in yours was coated in coconut-scented suntan lotion. 

You flip to a photo of you both bent over a pink frosted cake, your sister's sixteenth birthday party. The last photo you took before the outbreak. You think of that night spent laying on the trampoline out back, looking up at the stars.

"I wanna marry a man that looks just like Johnny Depp," your sister said, cheeks red from the days sun. "But he'll be a model too. And he'll take me all over the world."

Your sister had always been about flash, just like your mother. You were so different from them, more serious, more thoughtful. 

"What about you?" She asked, candy-scented breath next to your face.

"I want someone who reads and likes the same music, as me," you replied, eyes trailing dreamily over the night sky. "Someone more serious…Someone like Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre."

"You're so weird," your sister had announced, giggling in your ear. 

You look at the album; your sister’s laugh still ringing in your ear. You look at the empty house around you. You think of how much you lost in the outbreak, how little you have now and then you allow yourself to cry. 

///

Later that week you go to work, mechanical and distracted. You work only half your shift before telling your co-workers that you'll finish up the rest at home. That you're feeling a bit under the weather. 

You gather the fabric into your arms, bidding farewell. Your mind is full, stuffed to the brim with thoughts of Joel Joel Joel as you wander the streets back to your house. 

You're so distracted that you don't notice the tall woman in front of you until she calls your name. When you see who it is you stop abruptly, eyes wide. 

"Hey," Tess says giving you an awkward wave as she saunters over to you, a bag of bread in her arms.

"Hey," you say equally uncomfortable. You struggle to find something to say, terrified that she's going to start a scene. Does she know about you and Joel in his house?

She can't. There's no anger in her expression or disgust. Just a polite smile that you yourself would use on any other member of Jackson City. You shift the fabric awkwardly in the crook of your arm. 

"You uh, you weren't at the wedding."

 Her light eyes drop to the ground before slowly making their way back to your face. 

My guy was on patrol," Tess shrugs, blushing prettily. "Wanted to be there for him when he got back."

You smile at this, recalling what Trish told you about Tess. Her new partner. 

"Besides I still don't know many people actually," Tess forces a smile. "So it seemed weird to go."

A new kind of guilt assaults you. The kind that reminds you all the time she invited you over for drinks, all the walks that you declined with her. The desperate bids for friendship that she threw your way and that you continually ignored. 

"Everyone's invited to everything around here," you say, shifting the fabric to your other arm. "Next event we'll go together. I'll introduce you to the group."

"Yeah sure," Tess says with a real smile. "I'd like that."

"Good."

Tess looks momentarily uncomfortable licking her dry lips before fixing you with a serious expression. 

"You know you and Joel don't have to hide that you're together for my sake," she tells you with an earnestness that makes you feel choked up. "I'm happy for you both. That's what I keep telling him! But he keeps telling me to mind my own business."

It's like a bucket of ice cold water has been thrown over your head. Tess seems to want to say more when she registers your reaction but she stops, wan smile on her face.

"There is no me and Joel," you finally tell her flatly. "Never was, never will be."

Tess, looks completely flummoxed. Her hands stem at her hips as she looks at you, her brows heavy. 

"You sure about that?"

You open your mouth to say something but then pause. Tess waits, head tilted. You find your voice, but it's quieter than before, less certain.

"I barely know him, Tess."

"He's worth getting to know," Tess says simply, no guile in her eyes. "Even if he doesn't agree. He'll show you though if you give him the chance."

You're struck by the woman's sincerity. Guilty about what went on with Joel, ashamed that you could have done it. Confused because it's like Joel is tattooed on your insides, a continual reminder that he exists every time you draw a breath. 

"Joel doesn't let a lot of people in," she adds when she sees the conflicted feelings clear in your face. "When the old world ended it changed how we all saw the future. I don't think Joel ever really saw one where he was gonna be happy again. Makes it hard to be pleasant sometimes."

You don't say anything further, unable to come up with a worthwhile end to the conversation. 

Tess decides that she'll be the one to end things with a nod and a murmured goodbye. You watch her leave, amazed that Joel could ever let her go. 

///

That evening you watch the sun set outside your window. It's a beautiful light orange that sets everything it touches in golden rays.  

It's the kind of night where you want to curl in bed and read with the window open. But you haven't unlocked that window in months. 

You won't. You can't. 

But you think about heading down to the river in the back lots. It's a trek but maybe you need to clear your head. Everything that test told you this afternoon is replaying in your mind over and over. 

Did Joel say something to Tess about caring for you? Why did she assume that you were together? 

A knock at the door draws your attention. You towel off your hands and stride over to it, pulling the door open slowly. 

Joel stands there on your doorstep, a nervous look on his face.

"Can we talk?"

His hands are thrust deep into his pockets. You can only assume that he's here to pay you back for your visit to his and the thought sours your stomach.

"I'm not fucking you, Joel."

"S'not why I'm here."

He seems earnest when he says this and it gives you pause. You see the sweat dotting his forehead, the strain in his expression. This isn't the face of a man who wants to demand something from you. 

Silently you open the door further, signaling with your tilted head for him to enter. He does, shooting you a quick, thin-lipped smile and nod before his broad-shoulder-ed frame is inside.

You watch him enter into your home, his tall frame loping towards your fireplace. He glances at books resting on your mantle. His forefinger goes to touch one, the spine of one before he moves on. 

He moves around this place casually as if he belongs here. As if he isn't an interloper in your home. 

His eyes dart down to your coffee table.

He points at the album opened up to the page you had paused over last night.

"Family photos?"

"Yeah."

"You're lucky you have so many," Joel murmurs, his dark eyes roaming over the many faces of your family.

"My mom grabbed the album before we left," you shrug. "The only thing I still have from before."

You don't know why but you allow Joel to flip through your family album. He smiles gently when he gets to a picture of two girls with missing front teeth holding ice cream cones on the beach. 

"You and your sister?"

"Yeah."

He nods, brows heavy. He doesn't ask but he seems to know all the same. 

"Watched her turn," you tell him regardless. "Watched my mom kill her."

Joel is staring at you, eyes wide. His hands twitch at his side. If this was the world before, he would offer condolences but on this utterly broken earth they serve no purpose. Instead he stares at you looking both uncomfortable and overwhelmingly sad. 

But you don't care how Joel feels. You're tired and you want to go to bed. 

"What do you want Joel? Why are you here? You wanna learn about my family? You wanna hear how after my mom killed my sister she killed herself?" You shake your head. "Is this some new game for you?" 

Joel shakes his head. "Was never a game to me." 

"Right."

Joel can tell you don't believe him. He frowns deeply before lowering himself onto your sofa. He looks expectantly at you, tilting his head to the empty seat next to him. 

"I'll stand thanks."

"Suit yourself," Joel says tightly and you can see that familiar need for control in his features. It pleases you to upend it. 

"S'never a game to me," Joel repeats. "Can't say the same for you, though, sneakin' into my house to move my shit around. Why'd you start that by the way?"

Now it's your turn to look sheepish. You consider sending him away just so you don't have to answer. But then you think of him coming here after everything that’s gone on the last few days and you relent.

"You hurt my feelings and…I wanted your attention, I think."

"You already had it."

"Not that kind of attention with you being all grumpy," you roll your eyes. "I wanted you to look at me without scowling. I wanted to be friends. The first time you ever noticed me you were so rude!"

"Noticed you long before that," Joel promises. "Noticed you the first week I moved in."

"Huh?"

Joel sighs, as if what he has to say physically pains him. His foot absently taps against your wood floors, giving him time to collect his thoughts. 

"I was carrying boxes upstairs to the bedroom. Your window was open I think. I just glanced over cuz something caught my eye. Maybe your curtains or somethin' moving in the breeze." Joel looks almost embarrassed at all the ancillary information he's offered. 

"Anyway I saw you sittin' on your bed and you were readin'. Totally focused, didn't even notice me watchin' you while I unloaded boxes."

You narrow your eyes on him with suspicion. "Why would you watch me read?"

"Was relaxin'," Joel shrugs briefly, honestly. "Whenever I caught sight of you, you were just so comforting. I can't explain it properly. . . But then time went on and I happened to see you when you were readin' or cookin' or just out walkin', you were just so calm to look at." 

You feel your mouth parting. Joel had been watching you for so long. Much longer than you even had begun to watch him. 

"And it wasn't just calm I felt. It was happy. It made me happy to watch you, especially when you smiled," Joel's mouth curves into a small grin as if recalling a specific memory. "You got such a gorgeous smile. Makes your whole face light up."

You're openly gaping at him now. Shocked at these ready admissions of a truth hidden for so long. Confused at this softness, this tenderness. 

"I've never seen someone smile so fucking much. Sarah would have just loved you. You and that friend, you smiled and laughed all the time." Joel grows somber, brows saddling. "But you don't smile half as much anymore.. is it cuz of me?"

Yes.

Because I hate that I want you.

"If it is... Tell me," Joel insists. "I don't wanna be the reason you stop smiling, pretty eyes. I'll leave you alone forever if it gets you smilin' again." 

He's got puppy dog eyes now. Wide and sorrowful looking. They almost don't fit with the harsh planes of the rest of his face. 

"Why do you call me that?" you ask exasperatedly. "Do you not remember my name or something?"

"Course I know your name," Joel says, whispering it now. The sound of it slides over your body like a silk sheet. "S'a beautiful name."

"So then why-"

"I call you pretty eyes because you see beauty in everything. Nature, animals, people. You always wanna help. You want the whole shitty world to be a better place," Joel is shaking his head. "You know how terrifying that is to someone who's given up?"

You don't know what to say.

Joel stands, reaching into his back pocket. He closes his eyes, wincing before he crosses over to you and forces something into your hands. You hold it to your face. It's a photograph, a small one, the kind you yourself used to get in school, sent home glossy and overpriced for your mom to purchase. 

It's been folded, creased, lovingly looked at thousands of times, you can tell. It's of a young girl with bright eyes and a brighter smile. A girl with a dimple in her cheek that matches her father. Your finger traces the sweet curve of her face. 

"That's Sarah," Joel tells you after a beat. "My daughter." 

"She's beautiful."

“She was, yeah.”

Joel's face holds a myriad of emotions all at once. The most prominent of them all however is regret. There's a story there likely similar to your own. You hand him back the photo and he places it back in his pocket.

"I kept going after she was... Taken from me," Joel explains, obviously not wanting to use the real word. "I didn't wanna keep going. But I felt like I had to. I did what I thought I had to and I survived. And when I got here to Jackson I was all alone and all I could think was what was the point? What did I do all this for?"

You nod. Understanding more than you think he'll ever realize. Joel moves back to sit on the sofa, his body tense. 

"I thought existing was enough. But then that night I caught you in my closet.... It's like I felt alive again. The good kind of alive- not just needing to live for survival. The kind of alive that has my heart hammerin' and my blood pounding. Makes food taste better for Christ's sake, I don't know how, but it does," Joel is going pink at his neck and cheeks.

"S'like you brought me back from the dead."

You feel the tension, the animosity, the agitation that has been tightening your muscles suddenly release at his words.  

"I did?"

Joel nods and he doesn't move closer to you but you have a feeling he'd like to.

"The day after we... The first time," Joel has the good graces to look embarrassedly down at his shoes. "I thought it was better if I stayed away from you."

"Why?"

"Because I was ashamed of myself for how I'd treated you," Joel looks sick as he remembers it, eyes lowered. "But then I saw you that day in the shop lookin' at books and...I just... I was shaking when you walked by me but I just wanted to be near you. I just couldn't stop thinking about you." 

You feel like your stomach is doing somersaults. You've never heard Joel talk so much. It makes your head spin. It makes the world feel tilted. Joel is looking at you, concern clear in his features. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you croak, feeling your legs growing wobbly. You slowly lower yourself to the sofa. Joel joins you and you swallow when his knee brushes yours. 

"I've done a lot of things," Joel says. "Things I'm not proud of. Things that someone like you shouldn't have to be around. But I wanted to be around you." 

Joel takes a deep breath and you're surprised to see the sheen to his dark eyes. You allow his hand to slowly cover your knee, his thumb giving you soothing rubs. 

"I thought about you every day." 

Your heart is pounding at his husky admission. But then as those words settle within your mind you grow sullen. 

"What about Tess?"

"You were suddenly all chummy with that Markus. The two of you looked like a couple n' you were always with your friend and her husband. You seemed happy and I didn't wanna interfere." Joel frowns. "I knew Tess from way back. Thought it made sense. Wanted it to work. But I couldn't stop thinkin' about you." 

You make a scoffing sound. 

"I really couldn't," Joel insists, his voice pained. "The night you left my place? I told her I was..." Joel swallows. "I told her there was someone else. She said she'd figured." 

"Did you tell her we-"

"No," Joel shakes his head. "You can call me a coward if you want. But it seemed cruel to tell her. Almost as cruel as doin' it in the first place." 

You nod in agreement. 

"I was terrified when you weren't at home after that. Took a lot of askin' around to find out you were staying with your friend." Joel frowns, eyes limpid. "Was it cuz you didn't wanna see me?"

You can see real fear there in his eyes at your answer and you know that what you say next could potentially devastate him. But the anger you've been carrying around with you like a second skin has fled. Right now you want to be honest like him. 

"Not completely," you answer truthfully, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. "I was also scared I was pregnant." 

Joel's head ducks slightly and his voice drops so lowly you don't hear what he mumbles. You ask him to repeat it and Joel exhales slowly. 

"I was hopin' you were."

What. The. Fuck.

That was about the last thing you ever thought you'd hear from Joel Miller. You stare at him unblinking, unsure that you've heard him correctly. The entire lower half of his face is flushed, like he's just exposed his biggest secret. Which in a way, you suppose he has. 

You think back to that night. Of Joel emptying himself into you with a groan and disgust crosses your features.

"Did you mean to-"

"Fuck no!" Joel answers, the truth immediately apparent in his horrified expression. "Just got carried away that night. No fuck, I would never ... No. Not on purpose. Not without talking to.. Was just after... when I was thinking about it that the idea just .. If it did happen... It maybe didn't seem so awful to me..." 

"Jesus, Joel."

Joel nods, grimacing. "I know. I just. . . Thinking of you carrying my baby? Belly swollen and everyone knowing you were mine? That I made you a mama? I wanted it. Wanted that life. I know it was selfish, I know it's fucked up, but it's the truth. I'm trying to be as honest as possible here. No lyin'." 

You hate the way this pulls at your lower belly. The desire that licks there. Joel wanting to put his claim on you in the most permanent way possible has you slick between your legs. Despite how fucked up it is, despite how wrong, you can't help but feel turned on. 

What is wrong with me?

Logic and reason prevails and you feel your resolve strengthening. You tilt back from his hand on your knee, pulling your legs against your chest as you press against the arm at the other end of the sofa. Joel watches you retreat from him, face falling.

"Joel you just like fucking me." You spread your arms wide. "That's all this has ever been."

"For you maybe," Joel shakes his head. "S'not just that. Not for me."

"How would you know?" 

"Cuz I wanna spend time with you," Joel explains, bright eyes on yours. "Be near you. Not just fucking."

You don't know what else to say. How would you ever know if that was true? Too much has happened between the two of you. 

"Can I show you?" 

You glance up at Joel, brows raised. Show you? 

"Show me what?"

"What I wanted more than anything since the last time I saw you?"

It's a trick. A way to let him further into your home. Payback for what you did to him. 

No no no. Don't let this happen again you fool.

And yet you barely hesitate. After everything he's confessed to you there is no ire left in you. 

"Okay."

Joel's sudden smile is wide and warm and so damn grateful that it pulls at your heartstrings. He stands, holding his hand out to you. You look at his palm briefly before you take it, feeling as his large, warm hand wraps around yours. 

He holds you tightly and the both of you pad upstairs. The stairs creak under your combined weight but you barely hear it over the rush of blood roaring in your ears. 

Joel is in your house. Joel is touching you. Joel is being tender. Joel Joel Joel. The man you couldn't stop thinking about. The man you hate yourself for wanting because he’s so cold. But tonight he’s so warm.

You reach the threshold of your bedroom and stop, looking at him curiously. He gives a nod, silently asking for your trust. 

Despite everything you give it, walking into your bedroom and waiting as he follows you.

"Where's your nightclothes?"

You point to a dresser drawer. He nods, going over to it and pulling it open. You watch in quiet fascination as he pulls out a pale yellow nightdress with ruffles at the shoulders. 

"S'pretty," he murmurs looking at it. "You like this one?"

"Yeah."

You're confused when he takes your hand in his again and walks you to the bathroom. The wide, aged tub in there is turned on. A luxury you don't often take advantage of because you prefer showers. 

While the warm water is filling, Joel places the nightgown beside the sink. He turns to you and you can see him take a nervous inhale.

"Can I undress you?"

Again you barely hesitate. You nod and he closes the distance between you.

His blunted fingers move slowly over the buttons of your cardigan, your skirt. You watch Joel's face the entire time, taking in the way his mouth twists lightly to the side as he concentrates. He undresses you with quiet patience, his eyes warm and soft. Your clothes are slipped gently from your body, folded (much to your gentle amusement) and placed on the counter next to the nightdress. 

You watch him take a deep inhale before his hands skim around your bra to unhook it. Your breasts fall, released from the cotton fabric. Joel looks at your flushed face, his breathing shuddering. But he slips the bra off your shoulders and places it with the rest. 

Your heart is thundering in your chest. You feel your nipples tightening as his eyes fall over them, a look of reverence in his features. You wait for his mouth to descend, or his hands to knead them.

But instead his fingers come to rest on your hips, thumbs curling around the band of your panties. You feel your breath growing uneven at the thought of being completely bared to him. He hears it, registers it and his dark eyes flit to yours. 

"This still okay?"

You nod, trying to steady your breath. Joel smiles, eyes going to your mouth. You know he wants to kiss you but instead he blinks and lowers himself to kneel in front of you.

There on his knees before you, like you're his own personal altar, Joel slowly begins slipping your panties down your thighs, your calves, until you step out of them with your hand on his shoulder for balance. 

Finally you stand there in front of him naked. You feel vulnerable and turned on all at once. He's still kneeling, eyes drifting everywhere as if he's trying to memorize you. Your face heats as his wide eyes slide over every piece of exposed flesh. 

His finger trails over the scar at your ribs, unseen to him before now. His eyes go to your face as he stands, hand coming to drift over your cheek.  

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmurs huskily. But he doesn't make any further move to touch you. 

You think that this is what he's been after since you arrived back home. That he's just wanting to fuck somewhere new. That this was an elaborate way to break down your barriers. You fold your arms over your breasts, hand coming to hide your sex. 

You watch in confused silence as Joel strips as well, tugging off his shirt and jeans and boxers until he's standing there in front of you naked, his cock semi hard. He stands waiting, letting you have your turn at gawking. Despite the vulnerability of his nakedness, be excudes a powerful dominance, his frame large.

His masculine body is beautiful, his shoulders broad and the skin golden and littered with pale scars. You can't help but touch the swell of his biceps, fingers trailing over and down to his wrist. He shivers when you touch him and you see his cock hardening. He goes to cover himself. 

"You're gorgeous," you blurt, heart swelling when you see him give a shy grin at your words. He tilts his head away from you, his face pinking. Shy. 

Joel Miller is shy.

The tub is full now and Joel turns the tap to stop. He steps in first, testing the heat before holding a beckoning hand to you. With a quirked brow you take it, allowing him to lower you both to sit in the tub. You go in front and his long legs go to either side of you. 

You marvel at the gold skin of his legs and the dark hair that grows there. This skin, previously a mystery shown to you up close. You can't stop yourself from reaching a hand to his ankle and brushing the delicate bone there. His damp hand skims up your spine, he too marveling at this new piece of you exposed to him. 

Eventually he urges your back against his chest and you let out a small whisper of a groan his fingers come to your neck and begin to massage. 

"This okay?"

"Mhmmm."

You go boneless as Joel's hands work your neck and shoulders as the water surrounds you. The warm bath feels so good and Joel's touch is so comforting. 

Finally his hands are removed, once more going to urge your back against his front. He holds you loosely, fingers trailing over your forearm. 

You sit for several moments in the quietly lapping water, feeling Joel's chest constrict and expand as he breathes behind you. Your eyes fall shut, lulled by your surroundings and you hear him fumbling with a bottle before you hear the squeeze of your shampoo bottle.

His wide hands go to drag the shampoo through your hair. The sensation of his fingers carding through your tresses makes every hair on your body stand on end in pleasure. 

"You've got beautiful hair," Joel says softly, marveling at it as he rubs your scalp. "Thought so the first time I saw you."

You think of that day with the book when Joel had approached you, when he had smoothed a wayward strand of your hair between his fingers. 

"Thanks."

You go limp against him, body melting into his light touch. When he talks it reverberates through your back. You muse that you could fall asleep like this. His chin grazes the top of your head. 

"You enjoy that Jane Eyre book?"

He speaks gently as if he doesn't want to disturb your serenity. 

"Yeah I did," you say smiling genuinely. "It was one of my favorite books from before."

"Mine too."

This surprises you a moment that he remembered until you recall the books he was going to lend you months ago. He'd had so many that you yourself had loved. 

Joel seems so closed off, a hermit, almost a luddite in your mind. But he plays beautiful music and he reads wonderful books. There's so much to uncover about him. 

"What do you think is Bradbury's best work?"

"Easy," you can feel Joel smiling behind you as he continues lathering. "Fahrenheit 451."

"You're crazy," you insist with an amused laugh. "It's the Martian Chronicles!"

"Never," Joel insists with a playful tug of your hair. "I bet you'll say Dandelion Wine was good."

"It was!" You insist, craning your head to face him with a faux outraged expression. He's grinning back down at you, his face glowing in the gentle light of the sunset outside the window. 

"S'okay," he murmurs with his soft eyes sweeping over your face. "We don't have to agree on everything." 

You nod, and he turns his attention to the pitcher next to the bathtub.

"Tilt your head back, pretty eyes."

You do so, eyes closing as Joel scoops water up into the jug and rinses the shampoo from your hair. 

You feel at ease here in the water with Joel, you both just existing in the gentle warmth. You wish you could straighten your body out over him. You feel like a cat longing to stretch out in a sunbeam. 

It makes you feel soft and gentle towards Joel. You find yourself wanting to know more about him, about the life he had before everything went to shit. 

"What did you do before everything?"

"Contractor." His fingers make sure not to miss a strand of your hair with the water. "Tommy n' I had our own company."

He tells you a bit about the construction company, about how it was fun and exhausting being his own boss. It's easy to imagine Joel hammering away at wood planking, driving a beat up old truck down some winding streets. 

He asks you about yours and you muse that the only job you had before the outbreak was working at a video store. 

"Must be why you like those movie nights here," Joel muses. You look up at him, grinning, delighted that he remembers this fact about you. 

"Yeah." 

His eyes drift lazily down from your eyes to your mouth and you know what he wants because now you want it too. Desperately. 

He won't make the first move, you can tell. So it's you that tilts up to press your lips against his. You feel your entire body tingle as he sighs against you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. 

It's a sweet, soft thing that ends with him pulling back and pressing another gentle kiss to your cheek and forehead before he moves back to working on your hair.  

You talk quietly back and forth about life before the outbreak. He tells you that Sarah always fell asleep during movies, even the ones she picked out. He tells you that he was almost married but then his fiancée backed out and left him with his infant daughter. You tell him that your sister was your favorite person. You tell him that your first kiss was under the bleachers at school. 

When he begins to massage the conditioner into your scalp your head falls back and you let out a whimpered moan. It feels heavenly to be cared for like this. You've never had this. 

At the first strains of your cry you feel Joel's cock hardening further against your lower back. Arousal pools in your belly and your hand moves under the water, instinctively going to grip him. He twitches at the contact. 

"Not tonight, pretty eyes," Joel murmurs, gently urging your hand off of him and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. 

You continue sitting there between his legs confused as he rinses the last of the conditioner from your hair, his hardened cock pressed between your bodies.  

He's hard and he doesn't want you to touch him? 

He shampoos and rinses his own hair before he stands, pulling you from the water tenderly by the hand. He drains the tub, moving to grab your towel from the hook by the door. 

With a softness you didn't expect from him, Joel gently towels you off, drying each inch of your flesh before tugging your nightdress on over your body. 

He pulls on his boxers before you both pad back to your bedroom. He pulls back the covers of the bed, urging you to crawl in. You do so and you look expectantly up at him, noticing his hesitation as he lowers the blankets around you, tucking you in. He takes a moment to look at you, cheeks pink from the steam of the bath, eyes sleepy.

He leans over, kissing you full on the mouth in a way that's all sweet. It's a kiss of tenderness that has you exhaling into his mouth. 

This version of Joel is so fucking appealing. This open, soft Joel that talks to you about everything. This Joel that touches you with no aim other than to make you feel good and cherished.

"I'm gonna get dressed and go," he says in a whisper as he pulls back from your lips. His knuckles trace your cheek as he smiles serenely down at you. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

You realize that the bath, that tenderness is what he'd wanted. He hadn't been expecting sex at all and for that reason alongside many others, you want him to stay. You reach out from under the covers, grabbing his wrist. 

"I don't want you to go." 

He pauses, his dark eyes scanning yours. He's hesitant and you know that he's worried you'll see this evening as transactional when you know it's been anything but. 

"I want you to stay, Joel."

Joel contemplates a while longer before he finally nods. He pulls back the covers, climbing between the sheets beside you. He's warm from the bath and you instinctively snuggle back against him. His arms eagerly wrap around you and in them you feel a security you haven’t felt in decades.

Joel strokes your arm absently, kissing your shoulder only once before his head is back on the pillow, the two of you watching the moon hanging low in the sky. From where you lay you can see the roof of Joel's house. You think of how this started and you hold in a laugh. 

"Sometimes I'd watch your house as I was falling asleep," he tells you, feeling bold in the darkness. "If your light was on I felt like everything was okay in the world. S'like your light was my moon." 

You smile at that. Under the covers you're both warm, your hair damp. It feels domestic, not rushed or dirty. It makes you feel vulnerable as your bodies press next to one another in the bed. 

You look behind you at Joel in the blue darkness, your hand brushing an errant curl from his forehead as you twist to face him. Your mouth finds his again and you sigh as your lips move against one another. 

You assume that this is when he'll fuck you or at least make gentle love to you, but he does neither. He just holds you, bringing you against his body and curling around you, as if he's protecting you from the elements. It seems natural to him, to be a protector. 

"You told me you weren't a good man," you whisper to him in the darkness. "But I think you might be."

"I'm not. I've done terrible things," Joel grimaces. "You know firsthand." 

He strokes your hair, hand heavy before he continues. 

"I'm so sorry for how I treated you. I.... I didn't know how to act. I'd wanted you so fucking long and you were there and I couldn't help myself. But s'not a good reason. I was a fucking asshole. I don't blame you for hating me."

"I don't hate you Joel," you say with honesty. "Don't hate anyone, really."

"That's what I lo- like about you," Joel says, voice catching. "Not a mean bone in your body."

"I dunno about that," you shrug. "Took great pleasure in refusing to dance with you the other night." 

You can hear Joel smile at that behind you. "S'okay. I deserved it." 

The silence stretches on a little longer. 

"I'd say yes," you say in a quiet voice. "If you asked me again."

Joel doesn't reply, but he pulls you tighter against him, burying his face in your damp hair. 

You've never slept with someone in this bed. You think that it will be a hardship and you're shocked at how easily you fold into his embrace, how calm you feel and you drift into a peaceful slumber. 

When you wake up the next morning he's still asleep, dark lashes fanned over caramel cheeks. His arm is slung over your waist, as if in sleep he's worried about you leaving. 

You watch him breathing slowly, his full mouth parted. You think that he looks so peaceful like this, so open. You can't help yourself and you graze a kiss against his lips. 

Joel's eyes flutter open to see you staring at him with glossy eyes. His mouth curls into a sleepy smile and he brushes his knuckles against the curve of your cheek. 

"Mornin' pretty eyes." 

His voice is low and rumbling with sleep. It's a sound that feels good in your ear. A sound that travels down between your legs and pulses.

You kiss him again, a little longer this time. His hand is at your jaw, holding you lightly. There's no harshness in how he touches you now. You pull back, resting your head on the pillow next to his. 

You both gaze at one another, eyes locked. You think you can see eternity in the dark galaxy of his gaze. 

There's something about this moment that feels safe to you. Safety. And something else. Something that feels too early to speak aloud. A feeling that eluded you for so long. Tears spring along your waterline.

"Joel .. I-" you don't know what to say or how to say it. But Joel understands because he feels the same. His smile turns serious and you watch as his own dark eyes begin to grow damp. 

"I know, baby," Joel rumbles. "I know."

With tears in your eyes your mouth seeks his out again, your hands going to his bare shoulders and gripping.

He holds you against his chest, both of you kissing for what feels like hours. He holds your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. As if he's trying to atone for all those times he never kissed you, never cherished you properly. 

"I want you," Joel murmurs against your ear as you nestle against him. "Want you to read with me on my couch in front of the fire and sit next to me at those movie nights. I want everyone to know you're my girl. Wanna make up for all those times I was an idiot. Wanna make you laugh and smile like you used to. Can I?”

Your heart expands, your own hands cupping his cheeks. This man that you've wanted, that you've denied yourself wanting. He's looking at you with those big eyes, the ones that often seem so sad and so serious. 

"I want that too," you murmur. "Want you to teach me guitar too. Promise I won't hide it anymore."

Joel grins against your lips, recalling how all of this first began. He licks into your mouth as you whimper, the desire for him overwhelming you. There will be more discussions, more moments where Joel will fight to prove himself worthy of you. But for right now you simply want him.

Languid movements against each other turn into both sets of hands seeking bare flesh and moments later after your gentle urging of a condom into his hand, Joel raises himself above you, mouth on yours as he slides between your thighs slow and sweet, murmuring how much he wants you, adores you. His voice holds you, warms you as you keen, arching against him.

He takes his time, brushing the thankful tears from your eyes with his lips. You kiss his away from the corner of his eyes. He watches your body move underneath his with awe, as if he's actually seeing you for the first time. In a way it's like you both are.

And much like the bath last night Joel holds you tenderly, makes you feel beloved. He doesn't take, he just gives, over and over kissing praises into your skin, pressing devotion between your legs. 

"I want you to take it," he whispers against your neck as your thighs bracketing his hips begin to tremble. "It's all for you, pretty eyes. Everything."

You know what he means. 

When you two fall back against your pillow breathing unsteadily a short while later you can't help but smile in disbelief. You tilt your head to see that Joel is doing the same and you roll into his waiting arms, giggling. 

Your window stays unlocked after that. 

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #smut #mean!joel #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel #dark!joel miller

[sunlightmurdock]

Blow by Blow | 1.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, insinuated grooming but nothing graphic (skip the italics to avoid), the return of an abusive ex, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected pinv

…

Nothing about Tony DeLuca running into Bradley was accidental. Nothing about Bradley winning his first six months of fights was by chance.

Word spread quickly that Maverick was refusing to train, afraid that he would put the poor kid in an early grave like he had to his old man. Poor Bradley didn’t have a clue. As far as he knew, his trusty old uncle just didn’t have the time of day for him anymore.

The kid lived and breathed boxing — and he was good at it too. He didn’t need a backup plan. He was easy to get on board. The promise of quick cash and glory had him hooked on the very first day.

Now, six months in, he really considers the people at Darkstar to be his friends. They’re kind to him because Tony tells them to be.

“This place gives me the fucking creeps.” Natasha mumbles quietly as she pencils in the answers to her geometry homework. Bradley doesn’t answer but that isn’t unusual these days. He’s either on top of the world or he’s furious. It’s hard to keep up with which is which. “Don’t you get weirded out about the people staring at us?”

People stare at Bradshaw’s too, but not the same as it is here. At Bradshaw’s, it’s amusement and surprise to see kids running around the place or training in the ring. It’s not like that here.

Still waiting for a response, she glances up. Bradley’s not looking at her. His head is craned so far around that it’s starting to look unnatural. She furrows her brows slightly and leans to the side so that she can follow his gaze.

“Huh?” Bradley mumbles without looking back at her.

She finally spots what he’s looking at. The tall blonde standing behind Tony, looking at Bradley like he might as well be made out of diamonds. Natasha frowns as she looks the woman over. Natasha knows Emilia. Tony’s wife is around every now and again, but she doesn’t make a habit of coming by the gym too often. Natasha knows that Emilia is too young and pretty for the man that she married, but she still doesn’t like the way that the woman is looking at her friend.

Natasha swings her boot into Bradley’s bare shin. Finally, she has his attention. He frowns at her incredulously, still youthful features contorting into a scowl. “Ow! What was that for?”

“I think that we should go.” Natasha speaks quietly, feeling eyes on her still from various men around the gym. She has known from day one that this wasn’t a safe place for her, but she came because Bradley needed her too. Now, it occurs to her that it has never been safe for him either.

“I told Tony I’d stay and help him set up for his poker game. Why? — What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that woman is looking at you like you’re her next meal.” Natasha whispers, speaking through gritted teeth. Bradley’s lips quirk softly, his heart soaring a the fact that someone else noticed it.

“Yeah, she’s just looking,” Bradley glances back over there and shrugs his shoulders. He looks calmly back to Natasha. “It’s fine, she’s like that with everyone.”

It’s all over his face, though, that he likes the attention. He’s blushing even as he talks to her, a deep pink spreading over his cheeks and down his neck, under the oversized hoodie that he’s wearing.

“Even high-schoolers?” Natasha challenges, her tone cold. She hopes that it will wake Bradley up to what’s right in front of him, but he just shrugs again. He looks down at his homework and pretends to be focusing on it. Natasha looks back over to Emilia. Emilia meets her gaze with no shame, lips quirked at the sides.

“Fuck this place, I’m going home.”

“I fight in, like two hours! — We can’t leave.” Bradley frowns, grabbing her wrist as his best friend pushes herself up from the ground. Natasha stares down at him, completely serious.

“Promise me that you’ll stay away from her.” Natasha says softly.

“Why? — Her husband doesn’t make her happy, she told me so.” The response is immediate and confirms every fear that Natasha has in her head. She stomps her shoe into the concrete floor below them.

“Oh my god, Bradley, you’re so stupid!” Natasha groans, rolling her eyes as she picks her backpack up from the ground. She’s tired of this. Of sneaking out of her room once a month and getting dragged to the other side of the harbour to sit here on the ground and wait for Bradley to win a fight. Of Bradley never even thanking her for what she’s doing for him. He doesn’t see it.

Bradley stares at her, wounded. He and Natasha are frequently annoying to one another, but it’s always a joke. Now, she really does think that he’s stupid. He isn’t stupid. He turns his face away from her.

“Fuck off, Nat. Walk yourself home, if I’m so dumb.”

“Fine!” She bites back.

“Fine.” Bradley mumbles defeatedly as his gaze lands on the homework in front of him. He makes every effort not to look as his best friend leaves him there. He doesn’t get it, a lot of the time — the reason why people don’t like him. Maverick, he’s so tense around Bradley recently that they barely talk. Jake from the junior circuit, he’s had it out for Bradley since they met. Now, Nat.

Still focused on the lined page in front of him, he takes time to read the question and realizes that he definitely had gotten question three wrong. He sits forwards to pencil the correct answer in as the metal door swings shut behind Natasha with an embarrassingly loud clang.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and exhales slowly. He has only known Natasha for a year and a half, but she’s the best friend that he has ever had. Even if she’s a little mean to him sometimes.

“Was that your girlfriend, sweetie?” The voice is accompanied immediately by gentle touch, slender fingers gliding through Bradley’s loose curls as they’re stroked back off of his forehead. Bradley looks up at Emilia.

“No. She’s my friend.” Or she was, he isn’t sure.

“She’s pretty.” Emilia comments, fingers still carding through Bradley’s hair. It’s long and falls into his brown eyes, he’s practically hiding behind it as she looks over his face. “You would be cute together.”

Bradley gives a slow shake of his head, barely moving, afraid that she will withdraw her hand if he does. “It’s not like that.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t put you off your game tonight. It’s a big one, Tony’s so excited for you.” Emilia explains, sliding her fingers away from Bradley’s soft curls and cascading them along his smooth cheek. He leans away from her touch just slightly out of instinct.

“I’ll be fine.” He says quietly, swinging his homework book closed and shoving it towards his backpack. He sits up a little straighter and squares his shoulders.

Emilia’s scarlet-coloured lips tilt upwards at the corners as she watches him intently. Bradley squirms under her gaze, dropping his eyes down to look at the floor instead.

“Mind if I sit with you for a bit, Bradley?” She asks tenderly, stroking her thumb along the curve of his chin. He swallows softly to make sure that his voice isn’t going to crack when he speaks.

“Sure.”

Natasha watches Bradley now, working with a client who’s around seventeen, still fighting in the junior circuit. She doesn’t ever remember thinking that they looked that young when they were that age. Rounded cheeks, smooth skin where there will one day be stubble. She glances back to Bradley and frowns slightly.

His cheeks, chin and his neck now littered with scars, he looks a little older than she does but he always has. She does her best to think back to what he looked like back then, before the scars and before that stupid mustache.

She can’t quite picture it right anymore, but she knows that the kid he’s sparring with looks like a kid. Now that Nat’s all grown up, she knows the difference. Just like Emilia did.

“Morning!”

You round the corner with Tank in tow, smiling softly. Natasha turns her head and gives you a quick and polite smile. She has already heard by now that Bradley stayed over at your place again this weekend. It’s a shame really, she should be rooting for the two of you. You would be good for him.

But Natasha’s efforts at protecting Bradley have always fallen short. She’s doing better at keeping you safe, and Bradley wouldn’t be good for you. Her priority remains the same.

You glance quickly towards the ring as Bradley swings his glove into his opponent’s abdomen. The younger boy grunts and doubles over. Bradley groans and leans his head back, “Come on, man — does the word defence mean anything to you?”

“Morning,” Natasha smiles. She leans her head into yours as you hug her gently, tucking your arms around her shoulders. You settle as your attention is pulled away from Rooster. “Did you want to go down to the beach or something today? — I could do with getting out of here.”

Your face immediately lights up, lips parting in surprise. “Oh, Nix — I wish I could, Jake wants me training all morning. We could maybe go this afternoon?”

She nods as she lets you go, watching you glance quickly towards the ring again. Your gaze lingers for a second too long before it’s back on her. “Yeah. This afternoon. How are you feeling about your fight tomorrow?”

Bradley rolls his eyes as the kid in front of him trips again. He catches sight of Maverick watching him through the office blinds and straightens up. Maybe he isn’t the best teacher, but Mav was never any better. Mav has always expected more from Bradley than he had from himself. They’ve both disappointed each other plenty already.

The track over the speakers switches to something with a stronger tempo. He turns his attention back to the client and nods for them to continue. The boy sighs and wipes sweat from his forehead.

“Kind of scared.” You admit, brushing your hair back away from your face as your gaze turns back towards Rooster to make sure that he hadn’t overheard you. He hadn’t; too busy barking orders at the teenager in the ring.

Natasha doesn’t really understand. She hasn’t felt afraid for a fight since she was eleven. But she nods anyway, sympathetic as the two of you talk ringside.

It’s all too easy. Natasha nodding empathetically as she listens to your worries. Jake encouraging you through your morning training. Rooster leaving early for a morning appointment so you don’t have to feel him watching you train. Then, an afternoon spent on the beach with Natasha and Mickey.

You wave goodbye to them both outside Mickey’s apartment, only letting them drive you back that far and insisting that you’ll be fine walking the rest of the way. That was your first mistake. You spot him, at first, out of the corner of your eye. Just a shadow in your peripheral.

Without having to turn your head, you know that it’s him. His head turns as you cross the parking lot of a grocery store, hoping to be able to rush right past him without him recognising you. That’s stupid. Of course he’ll recognise you. He’s been actively looking for you.

Jett turns as he calls out your name. You keep walking, stumbling as you try to pick up the pace.

“Babe, babe, slow down.” He jogs to catch up to you, you can hear the soles of his vans hitting along the parking lot as he nears you. Your fingers fumble for your house key, wondering silently why you hadn’t just let Mickey drive you. You slot the keys between your fingers and continue walking, not daring to look back. He calls your name behind you. “Can you just wait for me? — Baby, I need to talk to you.”

Numbness spreads through your limbs like a chill, even with the lingering afternoon heat. You try to keep up your pace, moving as quickly as your trembling legs will carry you.

It feels so wrong to hear him call you that, his voice hangs around in the air like it’s waiting there to suffocate you. You should have brought Tank, or Rooster — no, Rooster being here would be a bad thing. But god, you’d feel better if he was.

His fingers curl around your wrist, icy and rigid as he tugs you back. You pull against him and try not to turn, but you know that having your back to him is even worse than having to look him in the eye. You turn towards him, the cold of his skin spreading up your arm and through your body when you finally meet his gaze.

“Where are you running off to, baby?” Immediately, his free hand reaches for your face. Your reaction settles somewhere between a flinch and a recoil, tripping over the curb behind you as you move to take a step back. His fingers curling tighter around your wrist is an all too familiar feeling, and so is the nausea that follows it.

“My friends are waiting for me.” You answer, knowing that your trembling voice gives you away. You watch his face change, it’s a brief split-second kind of thing, but you know the cues. He hates when you act afraid of him. It only irritates him more.

“Oh yeah, your new buddies over at the gym.” Jett chuckles. You’ve got better control over your reactions than he does, so he doesn’t notice how much of a punch to the gut this is. That he knows where you are, and where you’ve been this entire time.

“Yeah.” You try to sound calm. There’s probably someone still there, maybe Maverick. Fuck, you hope that he’s still there.

“Baby,” Jett tries to close the gap between you as you stumble for footing, backing away as much as his iron-tight grip on your wrist will let you. His voice is so gentle and he’s smiling at you like he would never hurt you again. You’ve been here before. “Can we not do this? — I know that last argument sucked, but come on, we’ve been through worse. We can just talk it out.”

You shake your head softly, brows scrunching. “No.”

Jett reaches for your face again and this time curls his fingers around the nape of your neck to stop you from pulling away. As he brings himself closer, the nausea consumes you. His smell, the look on his face, his fingers on your skin.

“Please let go.” You squeak out, voice strained as you will yourself not to cry in front of him. That has always made things worse. Jett’s brows scrunch together slightly. He doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t understand what it is that makes you pull away from his touch like this is.

He strokes his thumb along the nape of your neck and a sob catches in your throat. Closing your eyes, you swallow the sound and try to pull back.

“Please, tell me what I can do to fix this.”

“Nothing. It’s over, I left. So, let me go.”

“Yeah, you blocked my number,” Jett’s palm remains on the back of your neck, curling tighter around it, keeping you close to him. You stare right ahead of you, at the store, willing someone to just come out and see him, breathing through your nose. “You fucking embarassed me, everyone’s been asking me where you went!”

The sky is calm overhead and a tightness in your throat that only grows as the sole of his hightop inches closer to you across the asphalt. You swallow softly and square out your shoulders. The closer he is to you, the more that your heartbeat thuds in your ears.

“I’m done being your doormat.” Your voice is quieter than you intended, it undermines the message you’re trying to get through. Your gaze remains on his shoes as he takes another step forwards, primarily focusing on the spot of blood on the lace. You know that it’s yours.

“Oh yeah?” You can hear it in his voice that he’s got a grin on his face. Goosebumps erupt across your arms, chest tightening as he draws closer across the asphalt again. You can’t bring yourself to look at that smile on his face. “You’re tough now?”

You close your eyes all together, turning your face away. The smell of his cologne tells you that he’s getting closer. Your legs are frozen, staying exactly where they are. You couldn’t move them if you tried.

“Are you alright, miss?” The voice calls out from across the parking lot and Jett drops your wrist immediately. You barely give your eyes time to open before you turn on the heel of your shoe and sprint.

Running until your lungs feel like they’re going to give out and beyond that. Tears burn your cheeks as you race up the steps to the apartment, instinct forces the key into the lock on the first try and you slam it shut behind you, locking it again. You fall to the floor, back pressed to the door, sobs wracking your body.

You’re grateful for your new friends. You adore the ways that each of them care for you and let you care for them. Helping Mav with his phone. Letting Mickey ramble to you for hours about why the Star Wars sequels were done badly. Helping Natasha with her client schedule.

You adore each of them. But you should have listened to Rooster. You weren’t ready for this, you’ll probably never be good enough to do what they do and today provided with a reality check about all of that. You weren’t ready for this — all it took was a tiny knock from Jett and you crumpled like paper.

Laying on your floor until the tears stop soaking Tank’s fur, you lay there with him until you’re certain that you’re done. Then, you wash your face and change into your pyjamas, curling up on the couch with a blanket over your legs and Tank settled in against your side. He always seems to be extra snuggly when you’re sad.

An hour of peace passes, your tear-induced headache starts to fade and you find your eyelids growing heavier as the TV show that you’re watching nears the end of its first season. You think back to the text you had sent Jake in the middle of your hysterics, telling him that you’re sorry and that there’s no way you can fight tomorrow. You glance down at your dark phone screen, secure in your decision to have switched it off earlier.

Weight hits the outside of the door and keys fumble for the lock. You pinch the bridge of your nose and will yourself not to start crying out of frustration. You know exactly what’s coming next, and you aren’t in the mood for it. In fact, you’re just about in the mood to kill Bradley.

The lock clicks open in compliance and he comes stumbling through the front door. From his usual spot on the couch, you glare at him as he finds his balance by bracing himself against the door handle.

He’s soaked, white t-shirt clinging to his skin and see through, jeans dripping onto your floor, curls swept back messily off of his face. Rooster takes a second to look you over. Sitting cross-legged on the couch in your pyjamas, tear stained cheeks. He draws his own conclusion about what’s happening with the fight.

Swinging the door shut behind him, not noticing the way you flinch with its slam, he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and peels it up. “Hate to say I told you so, but—“

“Get out.”

His brows furrow as he holds his soaking wet t-shirt balled up in his hand. The droplets of rain slide along his soaked skin, dripping onto your floors as he smiles breathlessly, “Come on, I’m just messing with—“

“Get the fuck out of my apartment. Sleep downstairs, sleep in your car — I don’t fucking care, just get out!” Your fingers curl into the throw pillow at your side, plush under your fingertips. It’s soft, but your aim never falters. He just about catches it as it hits him in the chest.

Rooster raises his brows, holding the little pink throw pillow against his bare chest, having dropped his shirt to the floor now. He looks you over again. No bruises, no cuts. Nothing.

“What happened?” He takes a couple of steps forwards, features creasing into something that resembles concern but knowing him and his emotional capacity, probably isn’t. He approaches you cautiously, well aware of the several objects nearby that you could also turn into projectiles if you wanted to.

“Can you just leave, please? — You’re the last person I want to see right now.” You whimper, throwing yourself back against the couch cushions and pulling your knees up to your chest. Bradley still tries to lighten the mood.

“But you always let me sleep over.” He frowns.

“Exactly! — And you’re always still an asshole,” Your fingers curl into another throw pillow. Tank looks at Rooster, unfazed and his head still in your lap. Rooster drops the first pillow in preparation for the second. “So, what’s the point in being nice?”

The second throw pillow slips past his open hands, hitting him in the stomach and falling to the ground. Even more confused now, Rooster doesn’t slow his cautious steps towards you.

“I am so sick,” You rush out, voice raised, fists clenched, staring right at him. “Of asshole guys treating me however the fuck they want! So, get the fuck out!”

Finally, Bradley stops walking towards you. About four feet away, he raises his hands in defense and his face softens. Dropping his hands black down to his sides, he remains stationary in the middle of your apartment, just looking you over.

“So, you’re not doing the fight?” He asks calmly.

You turn and roll onto your stomach, pressing your face into a throw pillow. You refuse to let another man see you cry today. Your response comes muffled, barely audible on account of how hard you’ve squashed your face into the pillow. “Leave me alone.”

Bradley glances at Tank at your feet and takes a cautious step forwards. Having your back as always, Tank’s low growl is enough to warn Bradley not to come any closer.

“Bambi,” Rooster says softly. If he could get closer, he’d rub your back and tell you that it’s alright. “Come on. Whatever happened, y’know, whatever freaked you out — it’s natural. Everyone gets scared before their first fight.”

Your response comes out muffled again, even harder to understand this time because of the tremble to your voice.

“What?” Bradley frowns.

“I ran into Jett today.” You answer into the pillow. This time Rooster carries himself forwards and your dog doesn’t bother him. He smooths his hand gently along your back.

“What did he say? — You want me to do something?”

You turn your head to look at Bradley, then scrunch your brows softly. Tears trail along your already wet face as you study the sincerity on his features. You’ve never had someone offer to beat up an ex for you before. You shake your head softly.

Rooster reaches out and strokes his thumb gently along the back of your shoulder, onto the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry that happened. If you see him again, I want you to call me.” He lifts his hand slowly, to not startle you, wiping the salty tears from your cheeks.

“I don’t want to call you,” You mumble out, turning your face into the pillow again. Rooster’s brows furrow softly. “I want to not be scared of him anymore. I’m—“ You pause to swallow a sob as Rooster sits forwards and kisses your bicep softly. “It’s stupid. I thought that I was getting over it, and then I saw him, and all of it went out the window. I can’t fight someone when I couldn’t even tell him to get his hands off of me today.”

“He touched you?” Bradley’s features tighten. You simply groan into the pillow in response, then shake your head. “Bambi. I want answers here.”

“Can you and your saviour complex go somewhere else? — I’d like to be alone, please.” You hug the pillow closer and exhale heavily into its fluffy exterior. Bradley frowns, he sits back on his heels and just watches you for a few moments. Shooting a quick glance to the weather outside, and the way you’re so clearly going to spend an entire night crying if he leaves, he has already decided that he’s staying.

Bradley looks you over and smooths his hand over your shoulder blades. “Alright, get up.”

“Absolutely not.” You groan, hugging the pillow tighter and turning onto your side so that you are tucked in against the back of the couch, facing away from him.

“Up.” He grabs hold of your ankle and tugs.

The next fifteen minutes are back and forth, bickering between the two of you, him tugging at your limbs and you threatening to hit him with them. You scowl as you pad barefoot through the gym behind him, arms folded over your chest. It’s freezing down here at night time.

“What are we doing?” You complain as he flicks on half of the overhead lights and trips the overnight alarm so that no one will bother you whilst you’re down here. Bradley walks ahead of you wearing socks and his jeans, his soaked shirt and shoes still upstairs on your floor.

“You’re right. I’m not gonna be there all the time,” Bradley calls back to you. You stop walking and stare at the back of him, wondering if that’s really what he had taken away from your talk upstairs. “If you want to feel like you can handle yourself then you’ve got to stop training like such a little bitch.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re training with Jake, I’ve seen you — you barely hit each other.”

“So, you brought me downstairs to hit me?” You raise your eyebrows as he pulls himself up into the ring. He rolls his eyes and leans his forearms against the ropes.

“No, I brought you down here to let you hit me. Knowing that you can hit someone and hit them hard is like the first part of being confident in the ring.” He looks you over, standing by the weights in your pyjamas with your arms folded over your chest. You follow his gaze and realize that you definitely should have put on a bra. It hadn’t seemed like much of a priority when he was dragging you off of your sofa by your legs.

Bradley glances down at the wet denim clinging to his thighs and goes for the button on his jeans immediately.

“If you take your pants off, I’m leaving.” You warn him. Bradley’s lips quirk softly as he continues to tug his zipper down. He rolls his shoulders back, the muscles in his arms contracting as he stretches.

“Well, would you be a dear and grab me my spare shorts from Mav’s office?” He asks, bracing his hands on the ropes. He watches you roll your eyes and wander off to the office. The pyjama set that you chose were not supposed to be seen, let alone by him. You’ve had the shorts for years and they hug your ass a little snugly nowadays. He’s not complaining, a soft smirk on his lips as he watches you walk away.

He slips his phone from the pockets of his jeans, already connected to the speakers. He picks his personal workout playlist over the gym’s one. Something that you don’t already listen to every day. You wander back with his shorts balled up in your hand. He has his jeans hung over the ropes on the far side, standing in just his boxers and the gold cross necklace that he usually wears.

You throw him the shorts as you pull yourself up into the ring.

“I thought you’d be smiling,” Bradley comments as he steps into the shorts, setting them comfortably around his waist. “I’m literally giving you a free pass to punch me in the face.

You glare silently at him as he wraps your hands and secures Natasha’s gloves around your wrists. Music blaring over the speakers, he grabs your arms and puts them into position himself, then grabs your hips and knocks your feet into the spots he would like.

Manhandled into the correct stance, he stands before you to begin.

Bradley isn’t a nice teacher. He just has never understood why it doesn’t come as naturally to other people as it does to him. You can see it in his face that he’s biting his tongue every time you screw up. Whenever you drop your guard or fumble a punch. He just stares at you like he’s got a lot to say about it.

“I’m not gonna hold still for you, hit me like you mean it.” Bradley’s voice is stern and his eyes are so dark that it’s almost unnerving. He steps forward and his jab taps you in the stomach, just letting you know that if someone wanted to hurt you, they could. Your guard isn’t good enough.

You swallow, wondering if he can tell how much your hands are trembling with the gloves on. You glance down at the padded gloves, then at him.

“Hit me, Bambi — I can take it.” He promises you, nodding his head for you to go on. You curl your fists tight and then loosen them again, exhaling slowly. You step and jab, he side-steps you easily and taps his glove against your cheek. “Don’t wait to hit. Saw you coming from a mile away. Again.”

His guard focuses on his neck and jaw, elbows squared to protect his middle. But, after his side-step, his left side is just slightly exposed. You step and jab at the same time, catching him in the ribs. He nods at you.

Opening his mouth to praise you, he stops and taps his glove to the bottom of your chin. “That was good, but you just left your face completely open. C’mon, baby. Pay attention.”

It goes on like that. Dancing around the ring with him under the dim overhead light, thinking that you’ve got him good and then him tapping your face or your ribs or your stomach. The urge to quit comes and goes in a constant ebb. Hearing the nice things that he has to say almost makes hearing the bad things worth it.

“I’m tired.”

“So quit.” He tells you, face calm, eyes on yours, guard still up. “Drop your guard and take off your gloves.”

You stare at him.

“Would that make you feel better?” Rooster asks, the question appearing to be genuine. You know better than to assume that it is. You don’t bother answering him. “I bet it would make Jett feel better, watching you throw the towel—“

You step and jab at the same time, your glove catching the curve of his jaw and making his head turn. Your eyes widen and you step instinctively back. Rooster’s lips quirk. He looks you over and nods. “Perfect form. Atta girl, go again.”

“But I — “

“I told you to hit me,” Rooster nods calmly, “We’re training, baby. That was good. That was really good.”

“That’s it! Better,” He coaxes, stepping around the ring, glancing down at your footwork every now and again. “Guard.” He reminds you, tapping your cheek.

He grunts softly as you catch him in the ribs. Your breath catches as he looks up grinning. His brown eyes exceptionally dark, face only half illuminated from the lights. Your gaze trails. The sweat on his skin glistens and reflects in the light, making him all that much bigger. He nods, “Again.”

You stare at him. Watching you curiously and wondering what you could possibly be thinking now. He pauses for a moment to wonder if he has pushed you too far.

“C’mon, baby,” He nods for you to go ahead, exhaling slowly. “You almost had it.”

You glance down at the gold cross hanging between his collarbones, then back up at the sweat beading on his brow. His broad shoulders, thick arms — the fact that he came here tonight because he cares enough to check on you. His hands hang at his sides, your eyes linger on the swell of them for a moment.

“Ba—“

He’s cut off as you take three quick steps forwards, the fastest footwork that he has seen from you all night actually and throw an arm around his shoulders. You tug him down and press your mouth hungrily into his. Instinctively, his hands find your hips.

You throw yourself into him, knowing that he’ll catch you, and he does. Tucking his arms around your middle, he keeps you secure against him as you nip softly at his bottom lip. Pressed into his chest, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, enveloping you in it as your tongue strokes alongside his.

“Baby, what’s—“

“Please don’t call me that.” You breath out against him, pulling one arm back from around his shoulders. He watches, brows raising in faint surprise, half-amusement, as you bite the tab of the Velcro that secures the glove to your wrist and tear it off.

“I’ve got it.” He tells you, his voice calm and velvety as he catches hold of your arm and helps you out of the gloves. The second that he has the velcro off, you shake your hands out and send the leather flying back down to the canvas. Immediately, your hands are back on him again, snaking around his shoulders as you pull him into another kiss.

He presses the heel of his foot into your ankle, effectively tripping you, but it’s okay because his arms keep you from falling. You’re tucked safely against him as he presses you into the canvas. You lift your hips as much as you can with his weight bearing down on them, searching for some kind of reaction from him.

Rooster’s quick in knowing what you want. He slots a thick thigh against the apex of your thighs and grabs a tender fistful of your hair, tugging you back softly, just enough so that he can look at your face.

“What do you want?” He breathes out, pressing his chest into yours to keep you pinned into the canvas. His free hand skims along your thigh, squeezing into the flesh lustfully.

“I’ll give you three guesses.” You answer back, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. You lift your head, impatient, pressing your mouth to his throat. Bradley’s fingers curl tighter into your hair as you kiss along his neck, sucking gently at the taut skin.

“Not time to be catching an attitude, Bambi.” Rooster mumbles, letting his hands skin your sides, stopping to curl them around either side of your ribcage. He pulls back and pressed you down harder into the canvas, letting his brown eyes trail your body. His cock stirs in his shorts, fingers following his gaze. He reminds himself who he’s with.

Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he grabs your hand and curls it around the growing bulge in his shorts. “You want it?”

He squeezes his palm softly over the top of yours, your lips parting at he hardens under your touch.

“Mm,” You nod hurriedly. Doubt crosses his face for a split-second, you catch his gaze linger on the delicate butterfly pyjamas that you’re wearing. “Remember when you said that I could hit you because you could take it?”

His brows scrunch, but he nods nonetheless.

“Yeah, me too.” You breathe out, catching the back of his neck and pulling him hard onto you. It takes him a second to figure out what you’re talking about. You can feel it when he realizes, his grip on your hips tightening as he grinds himself against your core.

The two thin pairs of shorts that you’re each wearing do nothing to separate you, you can feel exactly how worked up every inch of him is with every move that he makes. You gasp softly as his hands curl into the sides of your tank top, the sound of stitching splitting as he tugs you up and slips it over your head. His mouth is on you too quickly afterwards for you to care.

He groans softly, grabbing both of your arms by the biceps and pinning them at your sides, glancing quickly up at you before he starts off by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your sternum. He works his way up, feeling you squirming against his grip as he reaches your breasts. Rocking his hips forwards at the same time as his mouth reaches your nipple, you gasp out from the contact. He flicks his tongue over the bud, feeling it harden and pebble in his mouth.

His fingers curl tighter around your biceps as he pulls back and grazes his teeth over the peaked flesh. As much as you can move, you squirm, chasing his mouth as he pulls back and moves onto the other breast.

Sucking, biting, grinding his cock against your core through the thin confines of your clothes. Just like he’s naturally good at boxing, you can’t help but wonder if all of this comes naturally to him too. It feels like it does. Pulling back, you try to sit up with him, gasping as he pressed you back down hard by your arms.

His gaze trails your torso, admiring the faint marks he has left on your tits, the remnants of his saliva that glisten through the dimmed lighting. He rests his open palm against your chest, freeing one of your arms, trailing it slowly along your sternum and down your navel. Seemingly enthralled in what he sees before him.

His palm goes right back to your arm as you attempt to move, pressing you down and covering you with a fraction of his weight as his attention goes right to your throat. He sinks his teeth into the base of your neck, just enough to make your back arch and the rest of your throat available to him. You moan contentedly, the sound vibrating off of each wall under the cover of the music.

Rooster glances down between your bodies and watches himself as he rocks the bulge in his shorts onto your core again and again. You’re tugged out of your daze as his mouth deserts your neck.

“Fuck, Bambi.” He tugs at your hips, lifting them enough to grab hold of your shorts and pull them down over the curve of your ass. Rooster pushes your thighs back, your shorts caught around your knees and keeping your legs together. Perfectly on display from him from where he is.

Resting his palm on your pelvic bone, he swipes his thumb through your folds, gathering your excitement on the digit. Grabbing the centre of the shorts, he pushes on the fabric. They guide your legs with them, making you whimper softly. Settled on his knees, he leans over and presses his chest to the backs of your thighs, curling his hand around your jaw.

You take his thumb into your mouth without dispute, wrapping your lips around the soaked digit. Bradley exhales slowly, glancing back down as he rolls his hips against your soaked core. Your excitement coats the front of his shorts, pitching over the tent in the material. His lips quirk softly at the sight, cock twitching in anticipation.

You press your teeth lightly into his thumb to bring his attention back up to you. His amused smirk grows as he presses the digit further into your mouth and grazes your throat. Tears brim in your eyes as he pulls the digit back from your mouth and curls his hand around your jaw. You moan into his mouth as he ruts his hips into your exposed core.

A particularly sharp throb has him groaning against you. He shoves at the waistband of his shorts, pushing it down just enough to expose himself. You suck in a sharp breath as the tip of his cock slides along the apex of your thighs. It dips between your folds, stroking along your core.

“Shit, you’re so wet.” He pants out, gaze focused between your legs. You whine gently, trying to push against him for more friction. Bradley lifts his gaze from between your legs and watches your face. Lips parted, looking up at him with baited breath, waiting for what comes next.

His chain dangles against your chin as he licks into your mouth. A strangled whimper catches in your throat as he rocks the flushed head of his cock against your clit.

“Rooster,” You breathe out, lifting your head. He presses his chest to the backs of your thighs, his weight keeping you exactly where he wants you. “Please.”

“Not just yet, Bambi — hang on a little bit more for me,” He nods his head, nuzzling his face into the crook of your jaw. He wraps a hand around the base of his cock and drags in back down, thick and heavy against your sensitive skin. He watches you as he dips just the tip into you. You gasp out, chest tightening, legs pushing against him. His lips quirk amusedly as he pulls back out again, “Then you can have it.”

Sitting back on his knees, he tugs your shorts the rest of the way down your legs, thick hands grabbing at your hips and flipping you onto your front. You yelp softly as you land on your knees, barely catching yourself on your palms.

Bradley’s palm trails your spine swiftly and curls around the nape of your neck, guiding your head down until your cheek is pressed into the canvas. From there, you’re certain that you know what comes next. You wriggle your hips a little as you get comfy on your knees, spreading them apart in anticipation.

Watching with his bottom lip between his teeth, Bradley grins as he watches you. He taps his palm against your ass cheek, then settles it against the small of your back. He nudges you forwards, pressing your cheek into the canvas more firmly. You close your eyes and inhale slowly, waiting for the stretch to come. You jolt as his mouth meets your core, wet and warm.

“Oh— oh.” You choke out, hands scrambling for purchase against the barren plains of the canvas, the muscle of his tongue dips into you. He pressed his hand into the small of your back, free hand grabbing at your hip.

His fingers press tighter into your hip, keeping you still as he pulls back to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, gathering your juices on his tongue. Already soaking, your excitement spills out onto his chin as he flicks his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Rooster groans against your core, grazing his teeth over your clit as he pulls back. You jolt forwards, whimpering onto the canvas. He presses his index and middle fingers into you at once, biting down on his lip as you hug his digits.

“Fuck,” He hums softly, curling his fingers forwards, letting them knock into that spongy part of your walls that has you crying out. He mouths along the curve of your ass, peppering kisses over all of the skin he can reach. “God, Bambi, you’re killing me here.”

You whine in response, pushing back against him. Still no words. He presses a soft kiss to the small of your back as he slips out of his shorts. He knows you’ll get there.

Finally, the tip of his cock grazes through your folds again. Bradley exhales slowly, holding onto your hip as he presses into you. You gasp out immediately, the sound catching in your throat as you jerk away from him.

“It’s alright, kid,” Bradley promises, pressing his chest to your back. He mouths softly at your shoulder, along the curve of your neck. “I’ll go slow.”

“N-No!”

Bradley stops entirely. His brows furrow as he waits for you to explain what the fuck that outburst was. You swallow softly, feeling your skin flush in embarrassment.

“I mean — I — You don’t have to.” You breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut, furious with yourself. Bradley kisses your shoulder blade, feeling how tightly wound the muscles in your back are.

He rolls his hips forwards slowly until he’s buried into you completely. You exhale, feeling your jaw unclench as you realize that you haven’t killed the moment. Bradley groans softly against your back and shakes his head as your walls hug the length of his cock.

“You just let me know if I’m not living up to your standards, alright, Bambi?” He teases, breath tickling your neck and sending an electric shiver down your spine. Biting your lip, you give a meek nod of your head. Pulling back slowly, he lets his head fall back as the slick of your walls hugs his cock.

He rests his palm against the back of your neck and slopes your back, holding his breath as he presses into you again. It’s almost a moan, the baited little exhale that slips your lips. Bradley rocks his hips forwards again, gaging your reaction as his skin slaps into yours. You hum, pushing back eagerly against him.

Just like boxing, Bradley quickly learns where to be and how to move. Fucking into you with a hand pressed into the base of your skull to keep you down against the canvas, a soft smirk on his lips as your moans fill the gym. He hangs forwards, pressing his chest to your back and covering your body with his.

There is a thin line between grunting and outright growling, and Bradley teeters over the edge of it with each thrust. Slamming his hips forwards, rutting himself deeply into you. A strangled noise escapes your throat as your knees buckle under you, the only thing keeping you from hitting the canvas being his grip on your waist.

He’s relentless, dragging against your walls as he bottoms out again and again. Rooster grunts, leaning forward and pressing filthy, open-mouthed kisses along the length of your back. You push back against him desperately.

Your stomach tightens, legs trembling as you almost slip onto your stomach again. Bradley slips out of you and grabs your waist, flipping you onto your back. You land with a soft ‘oof’ and a longing whimper.

“I know, baby, I know.” He soothes, capturing the sounds you’re making with his mouth as he fills you once again, hiking your legs up around his waist. You grab his shoulders for leverage, arching away from the canvas and into his chest. He grunts out, breathing hard as he rests his forehead against your collarbones.

“Fuck,” He pants against your chest, curling his hands tighter around your hips, letting one of them slip between your legs. His index and middle fingers circle your clit together. “Shit, you feel so good.”

You open your mouth with every intention of answering him, the first syllable of your response catching in your throat, replaced with a desperate whimper. His mouth catches on to your throat, nipping feverishly along your soft skin as his fingers continue, relentless between your legs.

Often, there’s no way of telling for sure, but Rooster knows when he brings you to your orgasm. He practically feels you let go of that tightness in your stomach, legs squeezing around his hips as your muscles go tense. Your nails raking over his shoulders like it’s the only thing keeping you with him is also a good indicator.

Your walls squeeze around him, lips pressing lazily to his neck as your fingers tickle the hairs at the nape of his neck. His cock twitches as he pulls out abruptly, coating your pelvic bone and your navel in warm ropes of cum. He groans as he covers your body with his, resting his sweat-dampened forehead against yours. “Holy fuck.”

You hum tiredly, trailing your fingers along his muscled back.

He lifts his head finally and looks at your face, smoothing your messy hair back off of your face. Silence lingers between the two of you as Bradley cards his fingers over the top of your hair so that he can look closely at your face.

“I’ll train you.” Bradley decides, his voice soft as he presses his lips softly against yours. Your eyes widen briefly. You tilt your head at him, lips quirking. You lift your head and kiss his chin. “We’ll reschedule tomorrow.”

“Might have been kind of unprofessional to fuck your client in the ring, though.” You point out, lifting your hand and toying with the cross necklace as it dangles over your lips.

He shrugs his shoulders and squeezes his hands around your waist playfully, “Gotta warm up somehow.”

…

@khaylin27 @sharpsapphic666 @fudge13 @averyhotchner @hangmanscoming @bradshawseresinbabe @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @phoenix1388 @perpetuelledaydreaming @princess76179 @cherrycola27 @wkndwlff @xoxabs88xox @galaxy-moon

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw au

[babydollmarauders]

i absolutely love the el!hughes series. What about a blurb of them telling ellen and jim, luke and quinn and the team?

i got very carried away with this one. it’s not even a blurb anymore, it’s a fic 😭

*

it’s been a week since Jack and i found out i’m pregnant, and Jack has been itching to tell everyone.

i was able to hold him off until i could make it in to a doctor and get an ultrasound done, just in case the tests were wrong. but that happened yesterday and our results confirmed what we already knew. i’m pregnant.

now, Jack has spent the past twenty minutes just staring at the ultrasound pictures while i get ready for the day. i can hear the guys all yelling around the house, Ellen scolding them to be quieter.

my thoughts spiral as i think about how everyone will react when we tell them.

“hey. where’s your head at, pretty girl?” my eyes shift in the mirror to look at Jack’s reflection. he lays in the bed, sitting up against the headboard with the ultrasound pictures clutched in his hand, but rather than the pictures, he now looks at me through the mirror.

“are they gonna be mad?” i whisper, my hand coming down to lay on my stomach, already feeling protective over my unborn child. i obviously haven’t started showing yet, but it’s insane to me to think that someday soon, i’ll have a baby bump there.

“is who gonna be mad, baby?” he stands from the bed, pacing around it to reach me. he steps behind me, his hands flexing along the sides of my waist.

“your parents. your brothers. everyone.” i mumble, slightly embarrassed over my insecurities. “i mean, your parents didn’t even have Quinn until they were in their thirties; are they gonna look down upon us for having a baby when we’re so young? we’re not even married yet.”

“hey.” he coos, using his grip on my waist to twist me around. my gaze settles on my feet, afraid to face him. “look at me.”

i lift my eyes to look in his, the blue instantly easing some of my anxiety.

“they’re not gonna look down upon us. we’re young, sure, but plenty of people start families at our age. or even younger.” he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, smiling down at me now. “besides, the marriage argument is kinda moot seeing as we only have five days until you become Mrs.Hughes.”

my face heats at the reminder. the idea of vowing to love him until death do us part only seems more exciting in this moment. i’ve waited for this moment for three years, and before that, i could only fantasize about dating my best friend. and now here i am, five days away from our wedding day. if someone told fourteen year old y/n that she would be marrying her hot hockey player best friend, i surely would’ve thought they were insane.

“they love you, and they love how happy you make me. even if they aren’t too supportive at first, once they see how happy i am about this, i promise they’ll be even more excited for it than we are.”

“did you just call our baby an ‘it’?” i laugh, lightly smacking at his chest.

“well, we don’t know the gender yet! i don’t wanna assume!” he replies, pulling me flush against his body. “you feeling better now?”

“yeah, i think so.” i admit. i crane my neck, pulling him into a soft and slow kiss. applying all my love into this kiss. pulling away, i brush my hand against his cheek. “let’s go tell them, yeah?”

“really?!” his eyes light up in excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he pulls back to properly look at my face.

“yeah, babe. let’s tell them we’re having a baby.”

it’s no more than five minutes later that Jack and i stand in front of the living room couch. having successfully kicked Trevor and Cole, who were cuddling, off of it in order to seat Jack’s family. Trevor, Cole, Alex, and a couple of Quinn and Luke’s friends who are in town, stand behind the couch.

“you guys aren’t calling off the wedding are you?” Ellen’s voice is frantic.

“Hughesy, if you let that woman go, i will single handedly kick your ass.” Trevor raises an eyebrow at my fiancé, making me laugh. i blow a kiss to my closest friend since high school, after Jack.

“what? no! we’re not calling off the wedding.” Jack rolls his eyes, smacking my still outstretched hand away from my lips. he glances over at me and i steel my nerves, giving him a single nod.

“y/n is pregnant.”

the room is silent for a moment and i’m forced to scan people’s facial expressions for reactions; Jim and Ellen are stoically blinking at us, Quinn wears a smirk while Luke wears a slight frown, Trevor and Cole grin from ear to ear, and Alex smiles softly at us.

i clutch Jack’s hand in mine in order to ease my nerves.

“does anyone have anything to say?” i mumble. sensing my feelings, Jack turns his head and presses a kiss to the top of mine.

“i- um-” Ellen stumbles over her words.

“are you guys happy about it?” Jim cuts in, which makes Jack smile, nodding his head.

“yeah, we’re really happy.” he tells his father.

“scared! but happy.” i confess.

“then we’re happy for you!” Ellen cheers, standing to pull us into a hug. “oh, my baby is gonna have a baby!”

her reaction causes me to let out a deep exhale, letting the stress leave my body.

Jim hugs us next, bidding us a congratulations before Quinn swoops in.

“congrats, guys! and thank you!” Jack and i exchange a look, our faces scrunched in confusion.

“thanks! but what are you thanking us for?” Jack questions.

“because Luke and i made a bet on when you’d announce it. i said before the wedding, he said after. i won!” my eyes widen at Quinn’s words.

“what do you mean, when we’d announce it?” i ask him.

“when did you guys find out?” Jack chimes in.

“well we didn’t know know. we just googled y/n’s symptoms and pregnancy was the first result that came up.”

“you two couldn’t have waited a week?” Luke calls as he walks over to us, followed by Trevor, Cole, and Alex.

“i could barely get your brother to wait the week that we did wait. i don’t think he would’ve been able to handle another one!” i joke, patting Jack’s chest lovingly. the guys all laugh and Trevor throws an arm around Jack’s shoulders.

“congratulations bro! you’re gonna be a dad!” Trevor cheers, patting Jack’s chest a bit rougher than i just did.

“hey! i’m here too! ya know, the woman with the human growing inside of her!” i laugh and Trevor drops his arm from Jack’s shoulders, instead opting to pull me into his arms and pick me up in a hug.

“congratulations, y/n/n! hope you don’t get sick too much.” he tells me as he sets me down. at the mention of getting sick, i start to feel slightly nauseous.

“oh, you asshole!” i look towards the ceiling, swallowing and willing it away as Jack starts rubbing my back. the other guys all tell us their variations of ‘congratulations’ and ‘happy for you’ as we take a seat on the couch.

*

telling Jack’s family was the nerve-wracking announcement, but now Jack and i are back in New Jersey for training and we’ve decided to tell the team.

most of them were there for our wedding over the summer, but we opted to wait to tell them until a little later when the entire team could be together. besides, i know the other WAGS will want to throw me a baby shower, and our gender reveal is extremely soon.

“you ready?” Jack asks as we stop in front of the tunnel of the practice rink. the day just ended for them, but everyone is still out skating laps and talking with one another, making this the perfect opportunity for us to tell them all.

“yeah.” i shrug. “i’m not nearly as nervous for this as i was for telling your parents. besides, at least one person in there already knows.”

i point to Luke who stands on the ice watching us.

“you’re being weird!” i call out to him, causing a laugh to bubble up his throat.

Jack takes my hand, pulling me onto the ice. i shuffle behind him, not wearing skates.

“hey, y/n/n!” Nico cheers, grabbing my other hand to help me across the ice.

“hi neeks, thank you!”

“whatcha doing here?” Dawson asks.

“actually, we have an announcement to make.” i tell them, speaking just loud enough for all the guys to grow quiet, turning to look at Jack and i.

“oh Hughesy, don’t tell us you’re retiring already.” someone groans.

“what? i’m not even twenty-five, dude.” Jack scrunches his face in confusion, looking around the rink.

“no, no one’s retiring. or at least, not Jack.” i laugh. “i’m pregnant!”

it’s silent for barely two seconds before the entire practice rink erupts in cheers. the guys are quick to skate over, piling into a group hug around us as if we just scored a hat trick.

Jack’s hands grip my hips, making sure i stay upright on the ice.

“congratulations you two!” “congrats!” “happy for you guys!”

a chorus of different congratulations of every kind is thrown at us from all different directions.

“wow you really wasted no time during that honeymoon, huh?” Bratt jokes.

“actually, they wasted no time before that.” Luke pipes up. “they found out two weeks before the wedding.”

“and you waited until now to tell us?!”

#el!hughes au #ask faithlynn ✨ #jack hughes x reader

[holylulusworld]

Best night of your life

Summary: You get the offer of your life. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plussized!Reader, Implied former Helmut Zemo x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: a lil angst, unrequited feelings (kinda), cocky Bucky, teasing, open ending

“I hope you don’t hold a grudge against me now, Y/N,” he nervously stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks. A habit you always hated about him.

You hold back a huff. Of course, you hold a grudge against the man fooling you for months. He pretended to be interested in everything you have to say, only to reveal he wanted your help to get close to your friend.

Or rather frenemy. Margaret and you never got along. She’s a prissy woman, jealous of your wit and spark. Even though she’s beautiful and every man cranes his neck when she walks into a room, she’s jealous of you.

“Why would I hold a grudge against you,” you snap at him. “You never once mentioned that you want to have a relationship with me.” You batt your eyelashes to push the tears away. For once, you had hoped you will be the one getting the attention of the man you like.

It’s not that you are deeply in love with Baron Zemo, but he was smart, eloquent and you loved talking to him about books, and politics. 

“I thought you took it to heart that I asked your friend Margaret out,” Zemo replies, ever the gentleman he offers redemption and to introduce you to one of his friends. He looks a little disappointed as you wave him off.

“I knew that you would go for the pretty face. No man goes for the woman he talks to for hours. You don’t want an equal partner. All you want, Sir, is a pretty little thing on your arm.”

He swallows thickly at your words. “That’s not…true.” 

“Oh? It isn’t,” you chuckle lightly. “Please excuse my words then. Congratulations on your blooming relationship with Margaret.” He releases a shuddery breath as you glare at him. “She’s the right kind of dull. Not smart enough to follow your conversations with your friends, but at least she can walk upright.”

“Y/N!” he gasps audibly. Helmut Zemo is not used to a woman standing their ground. Well, he messed with the wrong woman this time. “How can you say such a thing?” 

“Don’t worry. She’s pretty enough to distract anyone to realize she’s a numb nut.” You turn around and walk toward the bar to get a drink. It takes anything in you to not storm off or make a scene.

“What a woman, huh?” Bucky pats Baron Zemo’s shoulder. “A fiery little thing. So feisty, wild, and damn, look at that plump ass. I’d like to have a taste of that ass.”

“Mr. Barnes,” Zemo clears his throat. He doesn’t want to get into a fight with Bucky Barnes, leader of one of the most dangerous criminal organizations. “How are you today?”

“Better than you are my friend,” Bucky smirks darkly. “Damn it, why did I never see that pretty face before? She has fire in her eyes, and I bet the noises she makes for the right man are more than illegal.”

“Hey sugar plum. Do you come her often?” You roll your eyes at the bad pick-up line. “I saw you talk to Zemo earlier. It seemed like you had a disagreement with him.”

“Why would this be any of your business?”

“This is my party, at my house,” Bucky stands behind you to whisper in your ear. “I can’t let a pretty lady have a bad time at my home. Don’t you think?”

“That so?” You coo. “How do you intend on changing my mood then?”

“I’m a master at giving a woman a good time.” Oh, he gets cocky. “I love giving a dame a good time. How about we start with a drink, and see how the night plays out?”

You look at Zemo and purse your lips. He’s watching you and your host interact with darkened eyes and you decide to have some fun tonight. “I think your guest doesn’t like that you pay so much attention to me.”

“I don’t give a single fuck.” 

“Our watcher does,” you chuckle darkly. “He’s the kind of man going for some other girl only to get jealous when someone else gives the girl he doesn’t want attention.

He moves his hands to your waistline, squeezing your flesh to provoke Zemo even further. Bucky dips his head to look Helmut straight in the eyes as he whispers to you. “Have you ever had the best night of your life?” He rasps.

“I don’t know.” Two can play a game. You stick your ass out a little to brush against his crotch, earning a growl from the man behind you. 

“If you can’t say yes immediately, it means you didn’t have the night of your life yet. But we can fix this,” he presses his prominent erection into your plump ass. “You could have it. With me, doll…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#Best night of your life #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #mobster!bucky barnes #mobster!bucky #bucky barnes x reader

[kimpossibly]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎 → g. blythe

pairing: gilbert blythe x fem!reader type: fic request: none warnings: mild angst (but mostly fluff)

prompt/trope: "I like you." A mumbles, almost scared to admit. B absently reaches for A's hand on the railing, a smile forming on their lips. "Can we really do this? Nobody must know-" A throws B's hands on their shoulders, pulling them by their waist. "You and I know, and I think that's--that's more than enough, love." (@urfriendlywriter)

summary: when an accidental glance makes y/n's heart race, she's pushed to make a confession to her best friend, gilbert―who, surprisingly, seems open to a confidential agreement. word count: 1845

One glance. That was all it took. Y/n looked up momentarily from her slate, craned her neck ever so slightly to look beside her, and found a pair of hazel eyes already locked on her. In an instant she saw familiar freckles and curly dark hair, and an instant later they were gone. Gilbert's head snapped away the moment Y/n's eyes met his as he struggled desperately to look instantaneously busy in his studies, but Y/n's head stayed up, a crease forming between her brows as she gazed on, trying to work out why exactly Gilbert's eyes had been on her - and, even more, how long?

"Miss Y/l/n!" Mr. Philips snapped from his place at the desk. "Tear your eyes away from Mr. Blythe for once and focus."

A spattering of giggles from the girls and snickers from the boys coursed over the room. The only two who stayed truly silent were Gilbert and Y/n, who kept their eyes fixed intently on their respective slates so as not to draw any more attention to themselves - or to the other. Y/n's cheeks blazed red (as did Gilbert's although she was too afraid to look up and see it).

But it all begged the question, why? Gilbert and Y/n had been close friends from what seemed like the beginning of time. Well, perhaps friends wasn't the best way to describe how they started out. They began as all children do―by bothering each other. He'd pull her hair and she'd chase him around the schoolyard, throwing insults back and forth until they both ran out of breath. It happened so often that, at some point, they almost began to enjoy it. Soon enough they'd find themselves taking the same path to and from school. They'd use that time to bicker as well, not wanting to walk in awkward silence. Then, eventually, their bickering turned to casual conversation, then to enrapturing discussion about anything―reading, school, the goings on of Avonlea.

But they were friends. That was all. So why was Y/n blushing to high heaven over nothing but a momentary glance?

"Miss Y/l/n! Tear your eyes away from Mr. Blythe for once and focus." Y/n replayed the teacher's scolding again and again in her mind as she walked to town hall. Recently she'd been giving her time to help Miss Lind with the annual Christmas play she put on - with Gilbert. The two had long since grown out of participating, so they volunteered to help in other ways. Miss Lind had put Gilbert in charge of the lighting, seeing as he was the only one who could make sense of the queues and contraptions involved in the process. And Gilbert, quipping that he could only truly stand to be around her for hours at a time, elected Y/n to help him.

Until that day, Y/n had looked forward to rehearsal. But now she found her palms beginning to sweat as the town hall neared, despite the snow that was still surrounding her as she walked.

"Y/n!" Miss Lind exclaimed upon the girl's arrival. "Lovely to see you. Gilbert's already in the loft―go on up and see what you can do to help."

Miss Lind knew to phrase her request in such a way because it was common knowledge that Gilbert was the true brains behind the operation, and Y/n was his less knowledgeable but very teachable assistant. Y/n nodded at Miss Lind's request and left her to continue squawking at the young children singing a very off-key rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Y/n climbed the familiar steps to the upper loft at the back end of the auditorium, feeling her heart race as she did so. She tried with all her might to scold it back to a normal rhythm, but it was no use. All the panic just wormed its way into her mind, her thoughts racing at speeds that were surely unnatural.

Gilbert was indeed already at the loft, close by the railing, tinkering with one of the stands as she tried to raise it a few inches. Y/n stepped quietly so as not to make her presence known immediately, hoping for a few extra seconds to plan how to address him (although she had never quite wondered such a thing before), but her heel brushed a paint can by the landing and caused a great scraping noise that in turn made Gilbert whip around in surprise.

Y/n pursed her lips. "Oops." she muttered.

She heard Gilbert laugh. "Could you stop knocking things over for a moment and help me?" he asked. "I can't quite figure out how this is supposed to work."

"Aren't you supposed to be the expert on lighting?" Y/n quipped, walking over and crouching to look at the light stand from below. "No, no you're doing it wrong―there's a fixture inside that needs to be turned, but it's locked. There should be something on here to unlock it..." she spoke, running her hands along the stand until her fingers grazed a notch. She seized it, pressing tightly until the button depressed, and there was a small click. Immediately the stand began to collapse into itself, lowering at a high speed. Gilbert and Y/n both reached out to stop it and found their hands on top of each other. At once the stand stopped its fall and came to halt, leaving both Gilbert and Y/n breathless.

There was a moment of silence as they both blinked at the stand, making sure it wouldn't fall. Then, Gilbert let out a breath, laughing slightly. "Now who's the expert?" he asked quietly.

Y/n smiled breathlessly back at him, now intently aware of Gilbert's hand atop hers. He froze as well, seemingly noticing the same thing. Y/n's breath hitched. In an instant she removed her hand from the stand and moved away to let Gilbert raise the stand himself. Y/n moved to stand by the railing and looked down upon the rehearsal on the stage. She picked at wood chips on the railing nervously, her hands growing cold.

Gilbert watched her for a moment as she did so before turning back away to fiddle with the light stand. Something gnawed at him as he did so, but he focused on the task ahead of him.

Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek and fiddled with the railing. She couldn't do much about the lighting without Gilbert to instruct her―but she was dead set on not turning around and speaking to him unless absolutely necessary. And, right now, nothing seemed necessary. Not in the slightest.

Finally there was a sigh, and Gilbert moved to stand beside her, placing his own hands on the railing. "What?" he asked lowly.

Y/n didn't meet his eyes, but stared straight ahead of her. "What do you mean?"

"You seem upset." he said gently. "Anything I can do to help?"

Y/n almost laughed at that―Gilbert's not knowing that he was the root cause of all of her worries. "There's nothing you can do, Gilbert. Believe me." she said. "Unless you're up for murdering Mr. Philips?"

"Normally I would say yes, but today I'm feeling like an upstanding citizen. So I guess I'd say...make it look like an accident."

Y/n laughed this time, but a moment later she felt Gilbert take a step closer to her, and her heart beat resumed its incredible pace. She moved away to the other side of the loft almost immediately to try and lower the other stand to meet the other. Gilbert frowned as she moved away.

Y/n lowered the stand with a decisive press, making sure it was level with the one on the other side. Miss Lind was struggling to gather all the actors together on the stage to start from the top of the show, meaning that soon Y/n and Gilbert would be forced into silence as they focused on the show. For Y/n, that couldn't come soon enough.

The show began within the next several minutes, during which Y/n and Gilbert sat in uncomfortable silence as they shuffled around the loft, rearranging things and ensuring everything was in its correct place. Y/n set the light and left it, knowing that she needn't change it for the majority of the show. Gilbert set the other light as well and saw Y/n wander back to the railing, leaning against it and holding onto it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. He frowned.

In a moment, Y/n saw Gilbert lean backward onto the railing beside her out of the corner of her eye and stiffened, gritting her teeth. They stood there for a moment with Gilbert trying to figure out to phrase his approach and Y/n hoping against all hopes that he didn't try to say anything.

But, of course, he did. "I know something is wrong." he whispered.

"Shh," was all Y/n said in response, using the ongoing show in front of them as an excuse to shush him.

Gilbert's frown grew deeper, but he pushed on nonetheless. "Is this about earlier? Because what Mr. Philips said―"

"Shh," she said, more forcefully.

"Y/n." said Gilbert, taking her hand from the railing and holding it in his. Y/n looked down at it, her heart skipping a beat. Gilbert tried to meet her eyes, but she kept them craned down. "Y/n, look at me."

She bit her lip. How could she explain to Gilbert something she didn't fully understand herself?

Slowly, she looked up, worry knitting her brows together.

"Tell me what's wrong." Gilbert pleaded quietly. "Whatever it is, I want to help. I don't like it when...I don't like seeing you upset. So, come on. Talk."

Y/n, overcome with worry, looked away, fixing her eyes on the stage. She had a chance―a chance to do something that had the power to completely upend her and Gilbert's friendship. But she didn't think she could stand regret.

"I like you." Y/n mumbled.

Gilbert absently reached for Y/n's hand on the railing, a smile forming on his lips. Then, in one swift motion, Gilbert moved forward and pressed his lips on hers. Y/n, shocked, nearly jumped out of her skin. But, almost in an instant, she relaxed into his touch, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

But a moment later she pulled away, fear worming its way back into her mind. "Can we really do this? Nobody must know―"

Gilbert interrupted her by throwing his hands on her waist, pulling her in. "You and I know, and I think that's―that's more than enough, love."

Y/n smiled, the fear melting away as she looked at Gilbert.

"Hey!" came the shrill voice of Miss Lind. "That's the light cue! What's going on up there?"

"Nothing!" Gilbert and Y/n yelled in unison, scrambling back to their posts on the loft, hiding their smiles.

Author's Note: AHHHHHH MY FIRST FIC!! I've had this one in my head for a while now, but @urfriendlywriter 's prompts just really nailed it into my head that I needed to write it. I've been binging AWAE as school started and...I gotta say...I'm a sucker for dark hair and dark eyes. And the title, inspired by a Hozier song, just fits the vibe of the show so well I love it. But yeah! Enjoy my first fic and send in any and all requests you got!

<3 Gracie

#anne with an e #gilbert blythe #gilbert blythe x reader #awae #anne with an e fanfic

[youareunbearable]

Against Curufin’s better judgement, he leaves Tyelko in charge of Himlad for a month while he goes off to visit with Finrod down in Nargothrond. Tyelpe, who lept at the chance to be away from his brooding hen of a parent for a moment, had begged to stay in Himlad with Tyelko and Huan.

Against Curufin’s better judgement, he allowed it. He knew his son would be safe and well taken care of as long as his brother and the dog didn’t vanish into the wilds on a month long hunt. The threat of siccing the wrath of their eldest brother onto the blonde if he did vanish and leave his son unsupervised also was a good incentive to behave. 

Against Curufin’s better judgement, he had a peaceful and relaxing three and a half weeks spending time with his charming half cousin, telling himself everything would be normal and fine when he went back. It was honestly a delight to be able to catch up with Finrod in person, gossiping about what the rest of the Arafinwean brood was up to-- as truth be told they were his favourite kin outside of his brothers-- visiting the sights, and spending time in Nargothrond’s somewhat adequate forges. He spent many an afternoon swapping tricks of the trade with the Dwarven and Men smiths that had made themselves a home in the underground city, and it was so enjoyable and educational that he almost regretted allowing Tyelpe to stay behind. This would have been a good experience for him.

It was a handful of days before he was supposed to start the long trek back to Himlad and Curufin was with his half cousin, chatting amicably and strolling through the aboveground marketplace. It was interesting to see such a booming centre for trade, and Curufin spotted many of the traders baring Moryo’s version of the Feanorian Star Emblem on their person or booths. He knew his elder brother had an iron fist on the trade routes in Beleriand, but it was a different thing seeing it in person on non-Fenorian lands. Finrod, it seems, was either used to seeing Caranthir’s symbol all over his markets, or was woefully blind to it, which Curufin doubted. The two browsed the many stalls for trinkets and baubles, Finrod on the hunt to add to his dragon hoard of accessories, and Curufin looking to bring back home something for his son and brother for their good behaviour.

Against Curufin’s better judgement, he didn’t think the messenger hawk that was flying right at them was anything to be concerned about. He didn’t even think it was for him until he saw the scroll attached to the bird’s leg. 

Continue reading below, or on Ao3

Then, Curufin felt his heart falter in its rhythm for a moment. No messenger bird for Finrod would ever carry a written message. His heart proceeded to plummet into the pit of his stomach as he recognized Celegorm's third fastest hawk, the one that his son doted on and normally took out when exploring the mineral deposits in the hold. 

Vilya, he thinks with dread.Tyelpe named the bird diving at him with speed and exhaustion Vilya. The hawk flared out its wings and landed gracefully on Finrod’s outstretched arm, its chest heaving from a very long and fast flight.

Quickly, Curufin reached over and took the letter attached to the bird's foot. Finrod, being the empathic fool that he is, shuffled nervously from foot to foot beside him, craning his neck to try and read the letter over his shoulder. 

Curufin almost crushed the letter in his grip when he read the first sentence.

"Don't be mad, but uncle and I were hunting out near Nan Elmoth, even though you told us to stay away from Eol's lands. We had everything under control, I swear! But, as I was walking along the river bed by our camp, hoping to find some new minerals, Aunt Aredhel and her son burst through the wood!"

Aredhel? A son? Curufin had no idea his half cousin was even married, let alone long enough to have a child. Last he heard, she was missing, along with her brother Turgon somewhere in the mountains. What was she doing near Nan Elmoth? Finrod made a choked sound behind him, like a drowning pig, and Curufin, instincts honed from so many nosey brothers, mindlessly shoved him away as his eyes roved over the letter.

"I managed to catch up with them, and her son- whose name is Lomion- told me they were fleeing from his father! Aunt Aredhel was apparently bridenapped by Lord Eol, were you aware of such a thing? Stealing a wife! Anyways, Lomion told me they were fleeing to his uncle Turgon's hidden home, where Eol would never find them. Gondolin, father! The city uncle Neylo and Fingon have been trying to find for years! And father, I couldn't just leave them! Aunt Aredhel looked so worn, her hair had streaks of grey just like uncle Neylo’s, and they both were so scared! Aunt Aredhel swung me on the back of Lomion’s horse, so I fled with them to Gondolin. Father, I’m so sorry but I was so caught up in the excitement, that I forgot to send Vilya with a message to uncle, to let him know what happened. But, I suppose when I wasn't back by nightfall, uncle and Huan went looking for me. He and Huan tracked me all the way to Gondolin's gates and demanded that they let me go or to let them inside. You should have heard him scream, father, I’ve never seen uncle so furious, I thought he was going to throw his hunting spear right at poor Glorfindel who was guarding the gate.

Oh father, it's been awful. Well, not Gondolin itself, it's a very beautiful city and the forges aren’t that bad, and they have so much mithril here father! Rog, one of the smith lords here says the mountains and caves within and surrounding the city are rich with it, which is incredible! He promised to take Lomion and I to see a mithril mine soon, can you believe that? Veins of the strongest metal just laying around, just think of the works you could make with such quantities! I’ve been talking with Lomion about the mithril jewellery they have here and I have some ideas I think you might like ab–” The sentence abruptly ends, the letters jerking into a smudge, like Tyelpe’s hand was jostled while writing.

With a frantic flip of the page he sees the writing continuing on the back. “Lord Eol showed up shortly after uncle, and he was a raving madman, father. He screamed and swore and made such ugly demands and if it wasn’t for the clear look in his eyes I would have sworn he had not a sane thought in his head. Uncle Turgon had to let him in before he attracted Morgoth’s attention. He and uncle and Uncle Turgon and Aunt Aredhel were screaming at each other in the throne room for a long time. I stayed behind with Lomion and Huan, and father, the poor boy was shaking. I can't believe he lived with such a creature for his entire life! I don’t remember what was said, but suddenly Lord Eol was brandishing his spear and launched it right at us! We would have been killed if it wasn't for Huan knocking away the poisoned spear at the last second. The poison on it must have gotten on him somehow cause Huan is really sick now, but believed to be better soon. Uncle Turgon was furious, he was yelling and demanding Eol's head for daring to kill Lomion, when uncle picked up Eol’s poisoned spear and threw it back at him. Oh father, I wish I could wash the memory from my mind, the way Eol screamed as Uncle Turgon dragged him from the halls, his blood trailing through the street as we followed them to the gate ramparts. Before Uncle Turgon tossed him over the wall Eol spent his last breath cursing his own son, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget how Lomion’s hand trembled in mine as we watched. I didn’t think Uncle Turgon could be so cruel."

Normally, Curufin wouldn’t be able to either. But the thought, no the memories, of what he did to protect his son and brothers during the Kinslaying, well he could easily imagine what his stuffy half-cousin was thinking as he ended that scum's life. His hands shook, just imagining the peril his son was in. What if Eol missed and pierced his precious Tyelpe? Or if his aim was true and his son would have to watch his new cousin die. Bless Celegorm’s unwavering aim and Turgon’s uncharacteristic rage.

Finrod was gripping at his arm, clearly having read the letter along with him. He was saying something, but the words were indistinct and lost to the ringing in his ears.

"Well, father I'm really sorry, but uncle, Huan and I are stuck here for the time being. Uncle Turgon told us we are not allowed to leave, or to tell anywhere where we are. I wasn't allowed to write clues or send a map along with this letter either. Infact, I had to argue very hard to be able to send it at all. Aunt Aredhel helped greatly with persuading her brother. But have heart, father!  Uncle and I are faring well so far, and Huan is regaining his strength by the day! Maeglin and I are becoming fast friends, and it is nice to see Idril again, despite the circumstances. 

I hope you enjoy the rest of your time with Uncle Finrod. I hope I’ll be able to see you again, father. I’ll write back as soon as Vilya returns. 

- Yours dearly,

Celebrimbor"

At the bottom of the letter was a little doodle, one not in his son’s detailed and precise hand, but looking more like Celegorm’s hasty scrawl. The doodle consists of a blobby figure that is clearly Finrod from the sparkles surrounding him and the wide smile splitting its crude face. The figure is surrounded by, annoyingly accurate and tellingly more thought out then the rest of the doodle, birds. They must be singing for there are lines and dots that Curufin realises are music notes around them all. Beside the blob-Finrod, is another hasty doodle, one Curufin could recognize half blind as Celegorm’s terrible interpretation of him. Shorter than blob-Finrod, scowling pout on its triangle face, and his version of the Fenaorian Star drawn on the blob that must be his chest. Little blob-Curufin also has his signature forge hammer in one hand. There was no note to go along with the doodle, nothing to give that hunt obsessed asshole’s side of the event, no plans on how to escape Gondolin, or to contact their other brothers. Not his account on how Tyelpe is handling everything, or some sort of bullshit reassurance for his favourite younger brother who has just read a terrifying account of what has just happened to his only son in his care. Nothing, not even Celegorm’s signature or emblem to sign off the doodle.

Curufin screamed.

His hands wanted to tear that damned letter to shreds but some distant part of his brain not blinded by worry and rage knew to stay his hand to the last thing he had of Tyelpe’s presence on this land.

There were hands on his face, and he looked through the tears he hadn’t realised were blurring his eyes at his dumb stupid half-cousin. Sudden rage shot through his body and Curufin wanted nothing more than to rip into the Elf cradling his face in his hands. If Curufin hadn’t visited this stupid blonde waste of space, he would have been home at Himland, and none of this would have happened! Tyelpe would be doing his forge work, and Celegorm would be off hunting and doing fuck all in the woods like he normally does! Eol wouldn’t have tried to kill his darling little boy, nor would his child be ripped away from him, hidden who-knows-fuck-where with fucking Turgon of all people!

Suddenly, all fury dissipated in his body, making Curufin feel off balance and light headed at the sudden change. 

Finrod, who was still cupping his face in his hands and ignoring the snarling Curufin must have been doing, was humming a lullaby threaded with Power. As he wobbled, feet suddenly unsteady and vision blurring again, Curufin tried his best to rally up his anger again to no avail. He toppled into Finrod’s chest, feeling his older half-cousin scoop him up and cradle him close. The letter was gently plucked from his hand, and unable to fight the Power of the lullaby, slowly succumbed to sleep. 

Fucking Singers, was Curufin’s last thought as he felt Finrod start to move. They never fight fair.

—

It was suddenly and all at once that Curufin was conscious again. He bolted up, arms tossed out blindingly searching for the son he knew wasn’t there. He looked around frantically, heart racing as tried to find a trace of his son, or what happened.

Finrod, however, was sitting at a desk across the room. He was staring at Curufin, a wary smile on his face as he studied his cousin. 

Curufin met his eyes and snarled, suddenly remembering the dirty trick in the market. He shifted, ready to push himself up and throttle his half-cousin for putting him to sleep when he should have been looking for a way to save his son. And his idiot brother he supposes.

When suddenly, Curufin tumbled off the fainting chair he was laying on, having shifted too close to the edge. 

With an embarrassed and frustrated snarl, he shook himself off and leapt to his feet, ready to verbally tear into his half-cousin when Finrod spoke over him.

“Now that you’re awake, cousin, we are ready to head out.” With that he folded up the piece of paper in his hands and stood. “If we hurry, we can leave before the letters I sent out reach your brothers and our uncle. I’m sure Caranthir’s little snoops have already sent their own messages to him about your outburst. If we leave now, we can have a day’s head start on them. The only issue will be Maedhros or Fingon cutting us off at the mountains. We could rest at Tol Sirion, but I’m afraid that would just give those two more time to try and stop us.”

As he spoke, Finrod was striding around the room, his office, shuffling documents around and looking over everything with a critical eye. He nodded, satisfied with the state of his office and turned to Curufin, giving his cousin a blinding smile. 

“Come on now, I had the servants pack up your things and some of my stuff as well!” With that he bent down behind his desk and pulled out two large travelling packs. He tossed the bag with the darker bedroll at Curufin, who caught it and swung it on his shoulders absently. 

Curufin studied his half-cousin critically, all traces of anger gone. “You know where my son is being held?” 

Finrod nodded, “Of course, I asked Vilya. She was never sworn to secrecy about Gondolin’s location, and she loves little Tyelpe too, she knows how much being away from you will hurt him. So between her directions, and my blessing of Ulmo, I know we’ll be able to find Gondolin with no issues.” He paused. “Unless your brothers or our cousins get in the way. I’m very confident that if he gets the chance, Maedhros could very well stop us from going to the city that people never come out of again. Except for Aredhel apparently.” Another pause. “So let’s go!”

Curufin was already at the door, ready to see his son and strangle his brother for letting something like this happen. “Well, an easy solution for not getting Neylo involved, is to not involve him.” He snarked, striding down the halls of Nargothrond at a fast clip. Finrod with his stupidly tall legs following with ease. “Why send everyone a letter if you know they are just going to hinder us.”

“Well,” Finrod snarked back, practically pulling Curufin out of the main doors that were hastily opened by the guard. “I just don’t think it’s a wise idea for three of the Noldorian Lords of Beleirand to just up and vanish within the span of a month. I know your brothers, you know your brothers, and we both know Fingon. This knowledge should be enough to know that the world around us would burn down if we just left without a trace.” Finrod snorted and stopped yanking Curufin as they reached the royal stables.

His horse, a beautiful white and black spotted mare gifted from Maglor’s prized stock, knickered at him. She was eager to be on her way, right beside Finrod’s handsome all-white stallion who looked ready to run on command. 

Curufin wasted no time leaping upon his horse, Finrod mirroring his movements beside him. With a brief mental nudge, letting his mare know we needed to leave and now, they were off. 

The world around them blurred as they raced, Finrod humming a Song that made him and their horses feel energised, like they could run for days without stopping. Soon, Nargothrond was behind them, and they were racing across the vast open plains towards the Crossing of Teiglin. They rode without falter, without distraction. So focused on their journey, that Curufin didn’t even notice Vilya soaring above them, easily keeping pace with the help of Finrod’s Song. 

Finrod shared her directions. Once they pass the Crossing, they must reach where the Sirion meets the Dry River, then she can lead them through the twists and turns of the mountains to Gondolin.

Just wait, Curufin seethed, no one was going to keep his son away from him. Not even his family. 

Against Turgon’s better judgement, he should have known the Feanorians would ruin all of his plans.

#silmarillion #curufin #finrod #celebrimbor #celegorm #turgon #aredhel #maeglin #amber rambles #my stuff #silm fic

[babyflorencee]

Haunted House

Jonathan Crane x fem!Reader

"Johnny, please. I don't want to go in," I whined, tugging on the sleeve of my best friend, as we started to near the entrance.

"Come on darling, I'll be right next to you the whole time," he said, intertwining our fingers together, giving my hand a small but reassuring squeeze.

I nodded my head, holding on to his hand tighter when I realized we were the next people in line to go in. "Okay, next," the lady said, nodding her head to Jonathan and I.

"Have fun," she sinisterly said, smiling widely at us, causing me to hug Jonathan as if my life depended on it.

"Don't be scared, love, she says that to everyone," he said, laughing a little as he hugged me back.

We walked through the blood-stained door to be greeted with a room that looked identical to a meat locker. Taking a deep breath, I looked around the room noticing that there were meat hooks, hanging animals, hanging body part, black and white flashing lights making it harder to see, not to mention the room was so cold that smoke appeared whenever someone talked, or even breathed.

I looked over at Jonathan, seeing an amused look on his face. He had this psychopathic, crazed look in his eyes, making me nervous at the thought of this amusing him. "Jon, I don't like this," I whispered, looking up at him.

"How? This is so fascinating. The affects the smoke, the blood, the animals, not to mention the screams. Don't you like it?" He said, smiling like a little boy who just got handed ice cream. 

I knew he liked these things. He has been trying to convince me to go with him to a haunted house for years. But something about him getting pleasure from other people's fears seemed a bit off to me. But I never really cared to think about it. I was just grateful enough at the fact that he let me cling onto him, since he was the polar opposite of affectionate. He hated giving and receiving any form of affection.

"No, I don't Jon," I said, giving him a weird look as he just rolled his eyes in response. 

We kept walking for what seemed as if forever, when all of a sudden, this overly tall guy that was wearing a white apron with blood and slashes all over it and who was carrying a big, butcher knife, jumps from behind the door causing me to let out the loudest, blood curling scream I had ever heard. I practically jumped onto Jonathan, burying my head into his neck, on the verge of tears, as he was now forced to carry me.

All he did was let out a laugh, reaching over a little to pat me on the head, "It's okay little one, I'm here to protect you." The mockery in his tone being very apparent.

After the second jump scare, I ended up forcing Jonathan to carry me until we reached the end of the haunted house, making him swear on my life that he will never bring me to another one of these things ever again. 

#cillian murphy imagines #cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane imagines #cillian murphy x reader

[coconutdays]

Strawberries and Burgers

College AU! Eren Yeager x Reader.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Warnings: just fluff I think for now T^T and some suggestive themes!

You were so fucking pretty. 

Fuck. 

Every boy Eren knew thirst followed you. He had stalked your Instagram out of curiosity when Connie shared your post on his story. Every guy on fucking campus was on your follower list, the football team from Paradise U, even basketball players from universities two states over. He couldn’t blame them, you were a sight for sore eyes, but it was kind of creepy. 

He wasn’t gonna be a creep over a girl he barely knows. You could be some brat for all he knows. 

Your smile was cute though. 

That was the last thought on his mind about you before now. 

Now you were less than twenty feet away from him at Jean’s party, talking to Ymir and fuck he actually gets it now. 

You’re really fucking pretty. 

“Dude, you couldn’t make it anymore fucking obvious.”

Eren almost dropped the white claw in his hand, eyes wide and startled. 

Connie fell into the seat next to him, “She just became friends with Historia so she’ll be around at our parties more often. I know Jean almost creamed his pants when she asked him where the food was.”

“There’s no food though.” Eren countered, everybody just inhales the alcohol at parties. Sasha was always hungry but she just brought her own snacks most of the time. 

“I know. He’s in his room right now looking for his wallet so he can send her with the girls to go get burgers.”

Eren craned his neck back in confusion, “He’s buying everyone-”

“Just the inner circle.” Connie cut him off

“Who’s driving? All the girls are a bottle of vodka in.”

Connie opened his mouth to answer, but Jean stood before them, the keys to his BMW in hand. 

“I’m gonna drive the girls to go get food, can you–”

Eren stood up, “We can take my SUV.”

Why was he offering to take his car. Fuck. 

Jean looked at the white claw in his hand, gripping the keys in his hand. 

Eren noticed, “I only took one sip, I’m fine.”

“Not taking chances Jeager.” Jean shook his head, about to turn to leave. 

“You can drive. There’s more space for the girls and food in my car.” Eren took his keys out of his pocket and dangled them right in front of Jean. He caught sight of you a couple feet behind Jean. You were giggling at something Historia was telling you. 

Fuck. Your smile. 

Jean slowly took the keys from him. 

“Fine, but don’t backseat drive.”

“I won’t.” Eren handed his white claw to Connie, who was squinting his eyes at him, “We’ll be back in a bit.”

“Watch over the party?” Jean asked Connie, who never tore his sight away from Eren.

“Yeah.”

Eren paid no mind to his quizzical friend and followed Jean, who was heading towards the girls. 

You were with the girls. 

Jean held up his keys, “You guys wanna go get the burgers?”

Your eyes lit up the most as you bunched up your fists in excitement, “YES!” 

You were wearing a cute mini dress. It made the thin necklace you were wearing pop-out and–

He can’t look at your boobs when you don’t even know his name. 

He can’t. 

They’re great boobs. 

Damn it.

Sasha popped up next to you, just as thrilled, “I’M GETTING SHOTGUN!”

"It's not even my car Sasha, we're going in Eren's SUV."

All the girls looked at Eren, including you.

He was really hot.

You had seen him when you asked Jean where the snacks were.

He was wearing a black wife beater, loose jeans, and a black jacket. He was tall too. It made heat rise to your cheeks thinking about it.

Now you knew his name.

Eren.

He held eye contact with you while the others started shuffling forward to leave.

You weren't going to make the first move. He could just want you for sex like every other horny guy.

You tore your eyes away from him and walked behind the rest of the group, nervoulsy tugging at your necklace. In doing so, you brushed past him.

He smells good.

She smells just as fucking sweet.

He walked behind the group, right behind you. His presence was unavoidable. You could feel his overpowering energy behind you and it had your face flaring up as you let your thoughts wander off to think about how having him as your boyfriend would feel if he always trailed after you like this.

You fanned your face in hopes of the heat leaving your cheeks.

She's flustered.

Soon enough, all of you ended up stuffed into his SUV with Armin as a new addition and now riding shotgun and you just so happened to be squished next to him in the back. Historia and Ymir were next to the both of you, already asleep in each other's arms.

Your heart was beating out of your chest and you could feel the bare skin of your arms and thighs touching him. This and the tension of his presence next to you wasn't helping.

Out of panic, you took your phone out of your purse and started to play PvZ. It was weird, the situation that grew out of this.

On the seemingly long drive, you and him both silently acknowledged that he was watching you play the game when you turned to look at him after he laughed at your poor placement of a sunflower in panic at the incoming swarm of zombies.

However neither of you noticed the way the both of you just so happened to now be willingly smushed against the other, cheeks close to touching as you both looked at your phone.

It was comfortable, the silence between you both as you kept passing the levels until a random name popped up on your phone for a call and you jumped to decline it.

You clicked back on the game and waited for it to load while you sheepishly excused yourself, “My bad.”

“Was that your boyfriend?”

No. No. YOU DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND. YOU’RE SINGLE. PLEASE.

You were quick to respond because god forbid he thinks you’re taken.

“No! He’s a random dude who ghosted me a long time ago! This is the first time he’s tried calling me in months! I swear!”

You were really adamant on making it clear you were single.

Cute.

“Why’d he ghost you?”

“I said I wanted to be treated out on dates and stuff and be his girlfriend before doing stuff with him. Then poof he was gone. I wasn’t surprised.”

It didn’t bother you a lot, but Eren felt a pang of guilt at your confession.

“I like your standards.” He said, “He didn’t meet them for a reason.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, setting your phone down and mindlessly fiddling with the cover. You wanted to continue talking to him. He seemed nice.

“I like your necklace by the way.” You added

“I like yours.”

This tension was insane.

When was Jean gonna get to the fucking drive-thru.

“Yo guys what burger do you want! Im about to pull up.”

Historia and Ymir started to wake up and the both of you were now looking at the burger place coming into view.

Everybody said their order. Jean even called the boys to get theirs. Eren underestimated yours when he shouldn’t have considering you were the one to ask for food in the first place. You got double the meat and triple the cheese on your burger. Even the fries were huge.

You gave Eren a side-eye, “What?”

“That’s huge for you. Like not in a shameful way, I’m just not sure that’s gonna fit inside your body.”

He was being genuinely concerned really, but you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

He realized how wrong what he said seemed.

“Thank you for the concern, but I think I can handle it.” You smiled, your eyes still crinkling from your previous small laughter.

“You’re a pervert.” He accused

You feigned indignation, “I am not Eren. You’re the one talking about what I can fit into my bodyyy.”

He couldn’t look you in the eye anymore. You were making him flustered. This was really how you got comfortable with him, by teasing him.

Fuck.

He’s so glad that guy ghosted you

Ill continue this I swear I just wanted to release the first part. I hope you guys like it !!!

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren x fem!reader #attack on titan #aot x y/n #aot x reader #eren fluff #eren jeager x reader #eren jäger #attack on titan eren #shingeki no kyoujin eren

[star-girl69]

Ember in Your Hands

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: thank you all so much for voting on my previous post!! as you can tell, “Ember in Your Hands” was the winner. i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: nightmares, grief, mentions of death, mentions of kissing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Two- Restless

—-

When you died, switched bodies, born again — the first and last thing you felt was touch.

The last thing you felt when you were dying was Neytiri’s lips pressing against your eyes, and the first thing you felt was her hand over your chest, waiting for a heartbeat or a heartbreak.

Touch has been important to you since then, feeling, knowing. You can’t dispute touch. It is either there or it isn’t, and you have already either lost too much touch or never known it.

Maybe Jake and Neytiri hate sleeping like this, with your head over Jake’s chest, your hand over Neytiri’s heart. Or maybe they like it too. But they never complain, they only climb into bed and make sure you can still reach them.

Your ear to his chest, your hand to her heart.

It’s the only way you can fall asleep now, ever since everything that happened.

You remember, after Neytiri and before Jake, you remember sleepless nights. Too old to crawl into Grace’s bed, too young to simply push it aside. You were just a teenager then, missing your best friend and replaying every embarrassing moment of your life over and over again.

You remember insomnia, counting sheep, wishing to fall asleep so deeply you wouldn’t even dream.

The sleepless nights after taking a life is nothing compared to that. Glass shattering haunts your dreams, screams and shouts but this time you don’t have to be alone. You can restless with them.

The first few months after were hard, and with Neytiri being such a light sleeper, you caused your mates’ with just as many sleepless nights as you.

But, it got easier. Now, you fall asleep and fall asleep good — to the point where you never dream, or when you do, it’s only about them.

You dream about the life you want to live with them, the life you do live.

When you awake on this night, it’s because something is wrong. You fell asleep with your head on Jake’s chest, heartbeat thrumming in your ears, arm across his chest to press at Neytiri’s heartbeat.

When you wake, Jake isn’t there. You shoot up in bed, look around your kelku — but there is only Neytiri stirring at all of your movement, the hammock beneath you, there is not Jake.

“Y/N?” Neytiri asks, voice raspy, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What is wrong, yawne?”

Waking up without him makes you think too much of when you knew nothing but restlessness, and the early months when death hung around you like cobwebs.

“Jake is gone,” you gasp, and Neytiri blinks as she looks around the room. She puts her arm around your neck.

“It’s alright,” she murmurs, pulling herself up to press a kiss to your cheek.

“What-?” you say, pulling away from her. She seems a little more awake now, but still confused. “He’s gone, Neytiri. We-”

“He is probably just getting some water, Y/N.” She brushes your hair behind your ear. “Why do you always think the worst?”

You want to speak, but you love her so much, so you don’t.

She presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“There is no more bad, my love,” she whispers. “There is only our family.”

You want to scream. She doesn’t deal with it like you do, she doesn’t rely so much on touch and heartbeats. She doesn’t need that crutch to lean on, to live on. She doesn’t heal like you do.

Footsteps echo on the woven rug covering the floor. You crane your head, and Jake stands in the open flap of our kelku, light from the moon and starts pouring around him and making him look like some god.

“Jake,” you say, but it is a sigh of relief, barely his name.

He frowns and steps closer, the flap closing behind him, darkness taking up the kelku again.

Neytiri runs a hand down your arm.

“She was scared,” she explains, and you feel young and stupid. “Tell her she doesn’t have to, not anymore.”

Some sort of physical tension in his shoulders fades, the fear from seeing the two of you wide awake so late falling away. It must be a human thing to assume the worst.

“Oh, sweetheart,” her murmurs, crossing the room, but you keep your eyes fixed on a barely visible spot on the floor. He sits on the other side of you, so they both cage you in. You don’t feel trapped.

He’s silent, for another second.

“‘M sorry for leaving. I just wanted some water.”

“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, tearing your eyes away from the spot you were staring at. “Sorry for being stupid.” You stare at his chest, next, not ready to meet his eyes.

“You’re not stupid for healing,” Neytiri whispers, hooking her head over your shoulder. “You’re not stupid.”

Jake doesn’t try to get you to look at him. He just places his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, with some lilt to his voice that lets you know he’s smiling. “I died with you, and choose to live with you.”

Your eyes meet his, because you love him so much is breaks you and builds you up again and again, day by day. The cycle isn’t tiring. It’s just how you live.

Loving him and loving her is like breathing. It’s so hard on you, sometimes makes you sick, but it keeps you alive.

“If you are restless,” Neytiri hums, tracing a pattern on your arm with her finger, “then we are restless too.”

Touch has always been the most important sense in your life, ever since you died. It’s easy to forget that you are so different from that girl before, from that human girl and that human body born to die.

If you are restless, then they are restless. If they are restless, then you are restless.

“We are mates,” Jake whispers, and it’s so true that you kiss him.

—-

taglist:

@eywas-heir @mjesecevo-dijete @ok-boke @tsukicores @neteyamforlife @itsyoboysparkel @tejas-kris @noname2246 @skxawngsworld @itsemy01 @littlexscarletxwitch @ara-a-bird @ghoulbli @ssc7514 @kitkat1690 @hai-kbai @disaster-in-waiting @milf-lover-23 @hot15936

everything taglist:

@monsterwasstolen @fanboyluvr @artologia-blog1 @tulipatheticee @elvyshiarieko @fluffisalliwant @fluffi19 @jeizllz @myheartfollower @fy-fy-world @minkyungseokie @ivy-plays @blueberryfailureclinic @cryingwhilereading @thatratprincessforever @dumb-fawkin-bitch @sillyblues @buttercup-beeee @smollangrycat @n7cje @eternallyvenus @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

[i-cant-sing]

I can’t stop thinking about winged reader dating hawks

Okay, let me help you with that with an image:

Reader is lying naked on Keigo's chest, the hero smiling as he strokes your hair. You're so tired, too exhausted with all that you've been put through.

Keigo, that bastard, he'd cut off your wings. After he'd caught you trying to escape, he dragged you back to his place and decided that it'd be a "good lesson" and "precaution for future" to get rid of your wings for once and for all.

He- he cut them off, using his own feather blades, which were quite sharp, but still not sharp enough for your thick wings. Which meant taking much longer to cut them off, and if you knew one thing about Keigo, it was that he wasn't a patient man.

No amount of screaming and crying stopped Keigo as he began to pull your wings from your skin with his bare hands. It was like someone was pulling the life out of you, and when you tried to flip over to escape his assault, Keigo slapped you across the face and told you to stop wriggling around, before finally sitting on your butt and continued plucking you like a chicken. Your sobs only grew louder when you felt something hard poke you down there, knowing that disgusting prick felt sick pleasure from this.

By the time he was done wounding your back and having his way with you, you'd passed out somewhere in between. When you came to, you found yourself lying on his chest and you could still feel him growing hard against your thigh.

You whimpered, both from pain and shame, and Keigo only chuckled before patting your bum, shushing you when you jumped as a finger traced your hole.

"Shhh, its okay. You're okay. You did well." He kissed the top of your head. "I've called a friend over to help me, so you better be on your best behaviour."

Help him? With what?

You heard someone knock on the bedroom door. "Come in!" Keigo said, a little too cheerfully.

You could only crane your neck to the side as you recognised the man who'd walked in. Dabi- it was that notorious villain you'd seen on TV, and heard Keigo talk fondly of.

Oh god. He's not here to fuck-

"Dabi! You're just in time!" Keigo smiled, puckering his lips as Dabi kissed him, pulling away to look at you. You cowered under his gaze.

"This her?" Dabi asked, and you could feel him judging you.

Keigo nodded. "Yeah! Ain't she pretty?"

"She's alright. Seen better. Fucked better." Dabi said. "How do you wanna do this?"

Keigo hummed. "We can start now. She's up from her nap, so well rested." And with that, Keigo tightened his limbs around you, his muscular legs trapping yours and his arms coiled a little too painfully around your shoulders.

You began hyperventilating as you felt Dabi creep up behind you, before settling himself on your thighs.

"Keigo- please- I'm sorry- I've learnt my lesson! I won't run away again! Please, don't let him rap-"

Your words died down as both men laughed. Dabi grabbed your chin, turning it to the side. He leant down to whisper "Doll, I wouldn't fuck you like this. Unlike your hero, I prefer my bitches to beg."

Keigo gasped, offended. "You thought I was gonna let him fuck you? Nuh uh! You're all for me, and well maybe if Dabi does his job well, he can have a little fun with you, but you're mine otherwise!" Keigo said before grabbing your face and kissing you sloppily. "Now stay still and let Dabi complete your punishment."

Wait what? Its not finished yet?!

You began struggling under Dabi. "What are you saying?! You've already plucked out my wings!"

"Yeah! But they'll just grow back if we don't cauterize the base!" Keigo stated in a matter of fact tone.

Cauterize? Does... does he plan on burning my tissues?!

"Wait-!" But Dabi shoved your face back into Keigo's chest, holding it there with one hand as he heated up his other.

"Quiet now, doll. You're already distracting me with your cute ass wiggling around, don't need you yapping around as I take care of your back."

And with that, Dabi put his heated hand against your right wing base, and you now knew what the phrase "white, hot, searing pain" meant.

#yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere dabi

[eurydicesflower]

my heart says 'yes,' but my lips say 'no' (zoro/robin)

Pairings: Zoro/Robin Tags: Canon Divergence (Post-Wano Arc), Idiots In Love, Mutual Pining Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 2.7k words Summary: Even the most logical person in the Straw Hat Pirates have a hard time finding how to untangle the ways of love.

A/N: It's been a while since I have posted something zorobin related here haha Also posted on: Archive of Our Own

Robin was smiling to herself when she was heading all the way back to their quarters in the palace of Wano. Since she knew someone would very much like this sake she had bought and would drink this in one go. She knew him too well, and she couldn't wait to see his reaction. When she arrived, she passed by Nami in the hallways.

“Have you seen Zoro, Nami?” 

“Isn't he with Momo's younger sister? Why are you looking for him, though?”

Oh. 

“Right, right. How can I not know it?” Robin smiled as she hid the sake behind her back. 

Of course, how can she forget that? He was getting closer with Hiyori after all, and it's not like she should disturb them. She had seen how close Hiyori was with Zoro the past few days and there was not a day she would hear her crewmates tease Zoro and Hiyori that they should be together. There was a throbbing ache inside her chest, she couldn't quite place this feeling, so instead, she could only smile at them like she was so happy.

Meanwhile, Nami stared at her suspiciously and it was starting to make Robin uneasy since Nami wasn’t like this unless she sensed something .

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re too obvious, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

Nami rolled her eyes in amusement. 

“When you’re annoyed, your brows are visibly frowning and your mouth pouts and then.” 

“I don’t do that—”

“And, the sake was so obvious that it was for him, so no need to deny it now, Robin. I know.” Nami patted Robin's shoulder. “And not to mention, he’s an idiot, Robin...” 

“He’s not stupid, Nami. I mean, he’s not book-smart but he’s well-versed with his swords, and he is actually kind… and handsome, I guess?” She trailed off her words before snapping herself back to reality, realizing what she had said. “Why am I even saying this to you, well, it’s not actually for Zoro. I just happened to have this in my hand when I was looking for him! And I don't know what you are talking about so if you may excuse me, I’m heading out, see you around.”

“Why are we losing a promising woman to a dumbass like Zoro?” Nami sighed deeply, massaging her temples, as she watched Robin scurry away from the palace.

She was not supposed to leave Nami like that, and now the navigator might be thinking that she has hidden feelings for the swordsman. She was only friends with him, so why did Nami have to come up with such a ludicrous theory? She only has sake with her since she bought it from one of the shops downtown. And it was on sale! So, obviously she didn’t pass up that opportunity to buy the sake for him.

“Robin-chwan~!” Robin heard the cook’s scream of adoration. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be with the others at the plaza?” He asked as soon as he was standing in front of Robin.

“Oh, I forgot something in my room.” 

Sanji then looked at the sake, then looked at Robin with a knowing look but he didn’t say anything. 

“Well, let’s go to the plaza, shall we?” 

“I can manage, you go on ahead, Sanji.” She smiled at him.

“Well, see you there, I guess?” 

Robin craned her neck as she looked for a specific swordsman in the sea of people in the plaza. Holding the sake in her hand, she just hoped she would see him here. No, she was not looking for him. There was a difference between wanting to see him and giving him a gift, and also to do both. Robin didn’t want to admit to herself but it was actually the latter. To her dismay, she hasn’t found him yet. 

“Nico-ya, are you looking for someone?”

Robin almost dropped the sake in her hand, startled to hear the Heart Pirates’ Captain behind her back. 

“No, I wasn’t.” She gave him a quick smile before she kept on tiptoeing to search for the swordsman.

“I know where he is.”

“I think you’re mistaken, Torao. I’m not looking for Zoro.”

“Sure, but I didn't even mention a name.”

That struck a nerve on Robin. Nevertheless, she ignored him and moved a few steps away from him, yet the doctor never left her side.

“Why are you looking for him?”

“For someone like you, I didn’t peg you to snoop around other’s business, Torao. It doesn’t seem like you.” She smirked, deflecting the topic on her.

“Okay, sure, but next time don’t ask me where he is when I saw him standing there by the stalls with Momonosuke's sister.” Before Law could finish his sentence, Robin was already nowhere to be found.

So, they're together. Why was she even denying it? There are already hints that Hiyori was interested in Zoro, and he might feel the same as well so… Oh well, there is no point in giving this to him after all. The sake would go to waste if she didn't consume it right away. She did buy it with her own money after all.

“You're one of the Straw Hats, right? You look beautiful in person!” A man, reeking in alcohol, showed up to sit in front of Robin's seat. “Why are you all alone, pretty lady? Do you want some company?”

“That's kind of you but I don't need any company as of the moment.” 

“But you might need one since you're drinking the finest sake in Wano! That sake is much better served for two people.”

“It's okay, really.” Robin was starting to get unsettled, so she grabbed the sake with her and left the man alone. But the man seemed not to get her point and followed her.

“Don't you want to have some fun—?!”

Robin was about to cross her arms to silence him, without hurting him in the process, when all of a sudden, someone interrupted her stance.

“The woman said she didn't want any company right now, asshole.” 

“And who are you—?” The man stood frightened and gulped. “Never mind, I'm outta here.” The man whimpered before he ran as fast as he could.

Robin didn't need to turn back whoever had pushed away the creepy man, she already knew who it was. And it was starting to make her hands feel jittery all of a sudden. What's going on with her?!

“I already handled it myself, Zoro, aren’t you with Hiyori? Why are you here?” She asked him.

“And I thought you were with Torao?”

Robin looked at him, as confused as she was. 

“Huh? But I wasn't with him, didn't you see I was alone?” She didn't have time for petty arguments, she was getting tired just by sitting here all alone, she wanted to take a rest instead.

“What about the other day? I saw you with him going somewhere so I didn't disturb you.”

“You mean the— I was with him because he wanted me to see the poneglyphs under Wano… But you're with Hiyori? Aren't you two already together?”

“We're not—!”

“Zoro, I need you here, look at this.” Hiyori showed up beside the swordsman with a lucky couple bracelets in her hand. “Oh, the archeologist of the Straw Hats, it is nice to meet you in person.” The woman smiled at her as she took Zoro's hand in hers.

Robin didn't even need any further explanation about their situation right now. Zoro and Hiyori together right in front of her just proves it already. Robin already got the idea where she should not interfere between their alone time. 

“I think you two will enjoy this sake I bought for you.” Robin handed the sake to Zoro before excusing herself to leave them alone. “Enjoy yourselves tonight.” Robin smiled before she left them alone, ignoring the recurring pain in her chest.

She shouldn't have bought that sake in the first place.

Instead of heading back to the palace, Robin decided to go back to Sunny instead. Leaning her body towards the railing, she basks herself under the moonlight, knowing no one will find her here since almost all of them were busy in the festivities in the streets of the city. It was much better to stay here out alone with her thoughts, away from a specific swordsman that runs inside her mind. 

Hiyori complements Zoro's aloof and cool attitude. Although she knew that even then, Zoro can match Hiyori's kindness and doting personality. Even some of the people who had seen them say that they both look good together. Some of their friends even think they are better together except Sanji, of course.

“Are you really going to be alone here for the rest of the night?” 

Robin looked below the ship and saw the swordsman, standing on the seashore. 

“Robin, why are you ignoring me?” The swordsman then asked.

“I'm not ignoring you. I was only giving you space with Hiyori, that's all.” She quipped. 

“I honestly don't understand you, Robin.” Zoro sighed deeply. 

'So am I,' she thought. Why all of a sudden, she was having this ache inside her heart when she has always been healthy courtesy of Chopper's readings on her vital signs? Had she contracted any diseases without knowing what it is? Maybe she needed to consult again with another doctor. Maybe Marco or Torao would know what was happening to her. 

“But can I go up there with you?”

Robin was about to leave the railing, and yet, when she stared at Zoro's eyes. How come her heart says, 'Yes, please,' but her lip says: “No, Zoro. Go back to Hiyori, good night.”

They haven't left Wano yet so she was glad that she could wander around the town except for one thing: Zoro was preoccupying her mind for the rest of the day. There was no other reason that she should be thinking about him lately, but alas, he was just there. She tried doing her daily routine like reading books, watering her plants, playing with Chopper and Luffy but nothing could distract her away from the thought of the swordsman. 

It was not even this hard like the past few years. She can just make him magically disappear inside her mind but right now, how come it was so impossible?!

Later that day, she decided to ask Law for assistance. She knew that Law might have known what's going on with her. What if it is a disease that could potentially damage her brain?

“I always get this pain inside my chest and I get nervous whenever I was with him recently, and sometimes I get frustrated towards something like I feel itchy on some parts of my hands when he is with someone. Though I still like him.” She gave an expectant look at the doctor once she finished her rambling.

“I've never seen you this frantic, Nico-ya.”

“Do you think there's any chance I might die because of this?”

Law rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

“Gods, no. It's not that serious. But I do warn you that something’s wrong, though you just need to sort out what is going on between you two.” Law was already packing up his things before he was leaving Chopper's infirmary.

“So, what should I do next?”

“I'm a surgeon, Nico-ya, not Straw Hats' personal therapist, go talk with him, I know you can do it without my help,” he said before he and Robin left the room.

“ROBIN, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

The archeologist and the doctor heard the loud scream of their resident doctor outside the infirmary. Concerned, Robin quickly went to Chopper and checked what was going on before everything turned into chaos. The little reindeer wailed inaudibly, clinging on Robin’s legs.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“ItwaSHZHORO. PLISHLOOKFOHRZORO!” Chopper was still clinging tightly into Robin’s legs, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Say it slowly, Chopper. What happened?” Robin leveled herself for Chopper.

“Zoro is…” He sniffed. “Is going to leave…” He wiped away his snot with his little arms. “Convince him not to leave, Robin.” He whimpered with teary eyes.

“What? You know Zoro wouldn’t do that.” Robin assured him with a smile. “Maybe he was just joking?”

“Then why isn't he here yet?" He sniffed once more. "Can you talk to him?"

Robin let out a deep sigh. One thing about Chopper is that she wouldn't want to see the little reindeer sad, let alone cry. 

"I will go talk to him then. But where did you last see him? Is he not in the crow's nest?" Robin caressed Chopper's chubby cheeks.

Chopper shook his head. 

"Maybe he was at the palace, he was enjoying his stay here, Robin, what if he doesn't want to sail with us anymore?"

"Zoro wouldn't do that, I'll go talk to him for you, and if he doesn't want anymore, I'll convince him for you. I promise that." Robin smiled when Chopper tightly embraced her. 

Just when she was about to leave Sunny, the swordsman she was looking for had arrived just in time.

"Zoro." She said firmly.

"What?"

The tension felt tight which made Chopper scurried away from them and went behind the barrels on deck with a little smile in his face that Robin didn't notice.

"Are you really leaving?"

Zoro gave her a puzzled look. 

"Huh? Why would I? Who said that? That stupid cook?"

Robin looked as confused as he was. When she turned around to ask Chopper, it seemed the reindeer was no longer on Sunny. 

"I actually have no idea." She sighed and rested her body against the railings. 

"Are you already together with Hiyori?" She asked him out of the blue. She already kind of expected Zoro would deflect the question, yet surprisingly, the swordsman seemed to have readied himself for this question, or was that just her?

"To tell you the truth, if you'll actually believe me, there's nothing between us. How about you and Torao?"

"If you'll actually believe me, too, then, I am only friends with him."

They both stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do nor talk about. And there goes Robin's jittery hands, and faster heartbeat. She swears Zoro can hear her heart beating fast if he stands closer by her, which she kinda wished he would actually do. Then all of a sudden, she chuckled to herself until she burst out laughing which was followed by a baffled laugh from Zoro. 

"Why are you laughing?" Although he, too, was laughing along with her.

She hadn't said anything yet, but in her mind, she just realized that maybe the reason why Chopper had bawled in front of her, was to reel her in to talk with Zoro. She could be wrong but if she was actually correct then the little reindeer is so convincing, she thinks he can be qualified as one of the Grand Line Theater Actors for his outstanding performance. 

"It's nothing, don't worry. By the way, sorry to bother you earlier," Robin said, stepping ahead of him back to Wano. Before she could step on the sands of Wano, Zoro called out her name.

"Robin?"

Robin had never turned around so fast to face him.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, too and…Thank you for the sake…" Zoro gazed down on his feet, avoiding her gaze. "Let's drink it together? If that would be okay with you." Zoro mumbled softly. Robin could see the hint of pink forming in Zoro's ears and cheeks, but if she spoke of it, she knew it would just further make the swordsman flush in embarrassment. 'It's kinda cute, though,' she thought.

"Only if I can bring my books up in the crow's nest just like always." She grinned at him.

"You're always welcome to do that." Zoro said before he climbed up. Zoro then stopped for a moment right before he was close to the hatch. "I'll wait for you up there, see you later, Robin." 

Behind their backs, Nami would probably shaking her head in disappointment and tell herself, 'How long will they even realize?' and she would just be as frustrated as the Heart Pirates' Captain like he had always knew the secret affair between the archeologist and the swordsman except, of course, for Zoro and Robin.

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[enchantinglyjade]

Milk & Honey - Ch. 11

Austin!Elvis x Black!OC

Masterlist

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Summary: Honey’s new guests cause her to seek Elvis’ support.

Warning: Swearing, racial issues

Note: Happy Birthday Austin!

-

The man quickly stands up, amazed, unable to take his eyes off me.

I study him. Tall, blonde, about in his 40’s, clean but not necessarily rich looking, though the woman with him looked as if she had no problem taking care of herself.

My mom jolts up simultaneously, walking over to me. “Honey,” She says softly, taking my arm. “This is Charles Beau.”

My neck cranes back in confusion. 

Charles Beau? I am supposed to know who that is? Why does that sound so familiar though? Beau. Beau? Wasn’t Ma just talking about a Beau?

Then my heart sinks.

Oh my God

It couldn’t be. But how? After all this time?

I feel my body begin to shake and I can’t stop tears from burning in my eyes.

“Could you give us a minute, please?”

“We’ll wait outside.”

My breathing quickens as thought after thought comes racing through my head.

“How did he find us?” I whisper.

She gulps, going silent for a moment. “I had to put the house under his name.”

I close my eyes tight letting tears push past my lids. I grimace at the tears, feeling anger bubble up inside me. I push away from her, pacing across the living room.

“I used to tell myself he died as an excuse. I came up with every possible reason to make it hurt less. But now you’re telling me this whole time he’s known exactly where we live and not once did the fucker think to stop by!?”

“Honey!”

“Who’s the girl, huh? The reason he stayed? Your replacement?” I spit out.

“Honey, watch your mouth!” She shouts at me sternly.

I stop in the middle of the living room, breath hitching against my chest as I finally face my weakness. “My daddy’s name is Charles?” A sob escapes my lips as tears roll down my cheeks.

Tears form in her eyes watching me break down in front of her. She cautiously stands in front of me. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

She holds me tight. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

She cries into my shoulder as I do to hers.

“I ain’t seen him in 20 years. I didn’t know what kind of a person he was no more or if he even wanted to speak to us. I didn’t want you gettin your hopes up, tryna find him only to come out disappointed with what you got.”

She pulls away holding onto my arms for strength. She takes a deep breath. “But, don’t go gettin all mad at him now, okay, baby? He has his reasons, and I still ain’t tell him you're his baby yet, but by the looks of it he done already figured that out on his own.”

I close my eyes, trying to tuck away my anger.

The door creaks open behind us. I turn my neck to look at them, not yet having the strength to face him with my whole body.

“Can we come in?”

Just then he starts walking towards me. I gulp, fighting the urge to whimper while I search my mind for the right thing to say.

He stands beside me.

“How much did you hear of that?” I ask, unable to think up anything else to say that wouldn’t be laced in pure rage.

“Enough,” He gulps, looking at the floor shamefully. “and I’m sorry.”

I scoff, pouting and crossing my arms like a child.

“I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I swear I never knew about ya. I wanna be in your life. Please.”

Without my consent, tears burst from my eyes.

Ever since I was little I thought of all the things I’d say to him. I’d go off on him about not searching the country for us. I’d be strong and show him how rich and successful of a daughter he had no thanks to him. But it seems my plans are now ruined. Despite the powerful anger my inner child had towards him, she was also equally as weak and wanted nothing more than to finally run into her daddy’s arms.

I cover my face with my palms, embarrassed I couldn’t keep a collected demeanor in front of him like I had been practicing my whole life.

I feel his large arms wrap around me, comforting me while I lose myself.

I don’t know how long we stay like this, but I don’t pull away until my sobs fade away and I can maintain a straight face.

I apologize, wiping my tears away.

“Please. It’s more than alright.” He pats my shoulder, but quickly retreats, providing me with any space I may need. “I never properly introduced myself. I, um, I’m Charles.” He holds out his hand.

I sniffle, looking at it cautiously before finally deciding to take it. “Honey.” I say from the depths of my stuffy nose.

“Honey.” He repeated with a smile.

A weak smile manages to creep onto my face, but it’s short lived when I’m reminded there’s still one other problem sitting at the table waiting to be deciphered. Turns out the woman with him wasn’t Ma’s replacement, but mine.

“I have someone else I want you to meet.” He holds his hand out presenting the woman, who clearly did not want to be here. “This is Pearl. She’s my other daughter.”

I almost choke on air. “You- You have another daughter?”

“She’s my sister!?” The woman, Pearl, bolts up from her chair.

We glare at each other, looking the other up and down. She looked like the epitome of the color white. She’s dressed in pastels with a fluffy, white coat, neck adorned with a shiny jewel. Her hair is perfectly styled and her skin looks as though it’s washed in only the freshest of holy water every morning and powdered by angels.

We look like complete opposites just each with blonde hair, though hers is much more lighter than mine.

OUR dad notices the tension. “Well, perhaps, I best go check the Motels. See if they got any rooms left.”

But Ma stops him. “Why don’t you just stay here the night? I can make room.” I look at her like she’s insane, but she ignores me.

“We couldn’t.” He insists.

Please, just let him leave.

“Really, it’s no trouble.”

I groan on the inside.

“I think it’s best we all get to know each other better.”

Please, I’m gonna barf.

Pearl gets up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “Daddy, I ain’t stayin in no colored neighborhood.”

I scoff, disgusted with her. I’ve had enough.

I walk my way into the kitchen while they discuss new living arrangements or whatever. I pick up the phone, dialing the only number I know by heart.

He answers the phone with a yawn. I instantly feel guilty.

“Elvis?” I ask quietly so no one but him hears.

“Honey? Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Can I, um- Can I spend the night with you? I know you probably just got back home and I hate to burden you, but I really don’t wanna be home right now.”

His tone changes instantly. “Honey, what happened? Was it that car outside? You started actin all fidgety when you saw it.”

“I’ll explain later. Can you pick me up?”

“Yeah, of course, Bumble. I’ll be right over.”

I hang up, feeling a knot in my stomach. I should have just let him sleep. What if he hurts himself driving all tired like that?

I sigh, heading upstairs to grab a bag of things before walking past the circus in my living room. “I’m leaving.” I say, putting on my shoes.

Ma puts her hands on her hips. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

“You know where.” And like that, I’m out the door. Elvis isn’t going to be here for at least another 5 to 10 minutes, but I sure as hell ain’t waiting inside.

I wait at the end of the block, wrapping my arms around me to shield me from the night winds, dress blowing behind me.

Soon enough I see a pink blur swish around the bend. He comes to a quick halt in front of me, face angry upon seeing me outside, alone in the cold.

“The hell you doin outside?” He shouts, putting the car in park and jumping over his door to run to me. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I say brushing him off, impatiently walking around the car to my side.

“Hey!” He takes my hand, spinning me to face him just before I can reach the door. He holds my face in his hands, looking me in the eye sternly. “Are you alright?” He asks once more, demanding an answer.

I sigh. “Yes, Elvis. I’ll find a way to get by. I just need to get my mind far away from this house right now.”

He drives us to his house while I pretend like everything is fine, but it’s not fine. I couldn’t believe it. It can’t be true. My dad? A new sister? In my house? The whole drive I sit there with a burning lump in my throat.

When we arrive, I find myself dumbfounded. Graceland. It was easy to forget about your troubles in a place like this. He had only talked about it a few times, but seeing it in person was something different. Columns, a front gate, an acre of lawn littered with Cadillacs and other toys. It’s the biggest house I have ever seen.

He laughs at my amazement. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, so much so that I nearly tripped on the stairs getting distracted by the stone lion statues. 

“Darlin’, I know it’s a real nice house, but you’re gonna get yourself hurt walkin straight into cement like that.” He chuckles.

He walks me to the front door, taking a key out from his pant pocket.

“Everyone’s asleep right now, so Imma need you to keep it down til we get to my room, alright?”

I nod.

He takes my hand, sneaking me through the house and up the stairs. He quietly shuts his bedroom door behind me, telling me to make myself comfortable. I tell him I’m going to get changed and bring my bag into his bathroom. His own personal bathroom. I wish.

Once behind closed doors, I dig through my bag for that babydoll nightgown I brought with. I smile, finding it and slipping it on.

I peek outside the bathroom, finding him already in his ‘pajamas’, which from what I can see just means shirtless. He’s occupied with something on his nightstand, not noticing I’ve come out already. I creep out, tiptoeing over to him before suddenly bouncing on the bed.

He whips around to face me in shock until getting choked up seeing what I’m wearing. “Well God damn. And to think I used to daydream bout you in a moo moo.”

I giggle, crawling over to him to plant a kiss on him.

He secretly eyes the short dress while he shakes his head. “I hate to put your teasin to an end, but I am real tired, Bumble.”

I nod, backing away to get under the covers. “That’s okay, baby, I know.”

He reaches over to the light on the nightstand, switching it off before getting settled on his side.

I cuddle up against him, embracing his warmth. He accepts me with open arms.

“I’ve always wanted to sleep with you.” I whisper.

“Now, don’t go getting all dirty on me, Honey. We talked about this.”

“No!” I laugh. “Just sleeping, cuddling, your heartbeat signin me a lullaby, that whole thing.

He hums amused but tired.

I decide to quiet and let him get his rest. I press my head against his chest, that heartbeat I was talking about soothing me off into dream world.

I wake up the next morning to the sound of the bedroom door shutting. I rub my eyes, groaning. I open them seeing unfamiliar sheets and panic for a moment, before remembering I’m not at home.

A blur of Elvis walks to me. “Mornin’, Bumble. Went downstairs to warn everyone that you’re here. Didn’t need Mama getting all surprised about it. Got you some breakfast too.”

He places a plate on the nightstand, the glass clinks against the wood.

I groan, burying my face into the soft pillow again.

He laughs, climbing over me to kiss at my ear. “Now, come on, baby. I wanna introduce you to my family. Mama’s been askin bout you.”

I giggle at his tickling touches, shielding my ear from any more kisses. “Okay, okay. I’ll get up.” I flip over facing him, letting my eyes get adjusted to the light. He watches me with a smile while I surrender to awakeness.

We share a sentimental look, before he quickly gets up off the bed and throws me over his shoulder. “Alright, you’re takin too long. I’m bringin you down myself.” I scream out a laugh, telling him to put me down.

Once dressed and having eaten breakfast, Elvis ushers me downstairs.

The bottom half of the house is much more lively than his bedroom was a few seconds ago. Boys and roosters are running wildly through the house.

Elvis laughs at my bewildered expression. “Yep, that’s how things go around here.” He places a hand on my back, gently pushing me in the direction of the dining room. “Here, come over to Mama first.”

I gulp, nervously.

She used to be like a second mama to me, but it had still been nearly 10 years since I last seen her. She was the only white woman that ever gave me the time of day and I couldn’t be more grateful for her acts of courage to go against the norm.

Her and Elvis’ father, Vernon, sit at the dining table. 

“Honey.” His mom stands from her spot, coming over to me with wide arms. “Oh, sweetie. How you been? How’s Loretta?”

I smile. “Ma and I are fine.”

She pulls away, examining my face. “Well, ain’t that good to hear. Come on over, have a seat.”

She pulls out a chair for me. I thank her, Elvis and I sitting down next to each other.

His father looks at me in silence from across the table.

I never knew much about Vernon, but something always told me to keep my distance. He seemed rather…detached emotionally. Seemed like the more logical, political type and let me tell you, Elvis ain’t with me for any of those reasons, so I had my doubts Vernon would favor me over any other girl his son could bring home though he was never the worst person I had met.

“So, what news do you bear, booby?” Gladys asks Elvis, sitting back down in her spot.

“Well, obviously I can’t do the show anymore or much anything else for that matter. Damn Senator’s been ridin my career like hell in a handbasket.”

“What say that Colonel man?”

“Colonel says he’s lookin to get me into films. Says takin a break from music might be best for me right now.”

I look at him in disbelief. Quit music?

“Sounds like a bunch of banana oil to me, all this TV and movie bushwa.” His mom responds.

He sighs, “Look Mama, Colonel knows a lot about this stuff. I promise, once this is all over, we’ll be ridin in high cotton, you’ll see. I’ll getcha anything you want.”

She eyes him suspiciously. “I just don’t trust him, baby.”

He leans forward on the table. “Ain’t you happy, Satnin? Look at all this stuff he brought us. You ‘memeber when I’d have to put my first suits on layaway? You wanna go back to all that?”

“Atleast, I knew you’d be back home for dinner.” She sighs in defeat.

Listening to this whole conversation pan out, I couldn’t help but feel small and unworthy. Elvis has a whole ‘nother side of him that I’d never seen before. All this Colonel, Senator, movie, and money stuff. I had no clue what to make of all of it. I only knew the poor Tupelo boy that would purposely sneak away from his best friends to go watch congregations with me.

Maybe Ma was right. Maybe all this fame and publicity is something beyond what I’m ready for. Clearly my vision couldn’t see anything past the Mississippi border.

“Come on, Honey. I wanna show you the rest of the family.” Elvis says, grabbing my hand.

I follow him to the front of the house. We walk past the living room where an old woman is seated. Grandma Minnie, sweet old thing she is.

“You ‘member Dogger?” He gestures towards her.

I wave and she greets me with a kind smile.

We walk outside to where all those boys from earlier are now tossing a pigskin around.

“These are the cousins, Red, Junior, George, Billy, and all the rest of the hillbillies.”

Billy jumps on George’s back causing him to stumble over in my direction. “Giddy on up, now!” He shouts.

I step out of the way as they tumble to the ground, barely missing me

Elvis pushes on them, angrily. “Come on, Billy! Whatcha doin?”

He laughs, getting up from the ground before freezing once making eye contact with me. “Woah! Who’s the girl?”

Elvis pushes his shoulder once again. “Now, quit your lookin’ before I make your teeth rattle.”

Billy huffs, stomping away. Elvis lifts his leg as he walks past, pretending to kick him.

The other shyly comes up to us. “We’re real sorry for bumpin into ya and roughin you up and all,” Then he quickly runs after Billy to escape his older cousins' wrath.

“I’m real sorry bout them.” Elvis says, still glaring at them.

“S’alright, baby. It’s cute seein you with everyone.”

I stayed outside til the sun got low, watching Elvis play football with his family, thinking about what I’d do with mine. I dreaded going home that night, but Elvis insisted that whatever was worrying me, I should just face head on.

He drops me off at home, that same green Chevy still parked outside. I walk inside, finding everyone crammed in the living room. Mom and Dad turn to look at me, instantly huddling over me the second I enter the house.

“There you are, baby. I was wonderin when you’d come home.” My mom says.

“I told you where I was going.” I sigh. “Gladys says hello.”

“Well, at least I know you were in good hands, but that don’t mean you can just run off without callin.”

My dad buds in next to her. “Your mama’s right. I know we just met but I’d still hate to see sum’n happen to ya. You never know what kinds of people you’ll run into out-”

A knock comes from the front door.

I look over my shoulder, trying to peek out the window to see who it could be. I excuse myself to go open it, seeing a familiar face in the peephole.

“You left your bag.” Elvis smiles at me, handing the item over.

I thank him, kissing him on the cheek, but before I can quickly shut the door on him, my father’s attention is caught.

“Who is that?” His booming voice calls from behind.

Elvis freezes, noticing the strangers in my house, looking to me for help.

I gulp, opening the door wider to allow him in. “He’s a friend of mine, Dad.”

Elvis looks at me with wide eyes. ‘Dad?’ he mouths. I nod. He turns back, staring at my father in awe, now understanding why I ran out of my house so quick last night. “H-Hello, sir.”

My dad stands with his arms crossed, giving him the evil eye.

“Okay! He really needs to go back home to his mama, so I think it’s time to say goodbye.” I place my hands on his chest, pushing him to walk backwards.

“Well, Honey, I-”

“Goodbye, Elvis!” I say forcing him outside. ‘Sorry. Love you.’ I mouth, before slamming the door. I huff, turning back to my parents.

“You- You’re seein a white man?” My father asks.

Ugh! Man, my parents can be real hypocrates about this stuff.

“Frankly, I think it’s none of your business.”

Then a loud gasp comes from the top of the stairs. Pearl stands with her jaw dropped to the floor.

“Was that Elvis Presley?”

.

.

.

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[jahayla-parker]

🧥~ #7 with peter parker?

Beautifully Basic: Peter Parker x Reader ~

Description: Peter and y/n have been crushing on another for awhile when one day she blurts out “I don’t care if it makes me a basic bitch, I want my Pumpkin Spice Latte and I want it now.” and now it’s Peter’s mission to make it happen.

Warnings: 🫣 it lives up to its title lol, super fluffy, clearly given the prompt quote there are a few curses in it. May make you want to have Peter be your boyfriend.

For my fall celebration (requests still open, details here)

This prompt generated by @innytoes

“I’m serious y/n” MJ groaned.

Y/n rolled her eyes, shutting her locker before crossing her arms over her chest, “I don’t care MJ”.

“Care about what?” Ned asked cheerfully as he greeted the girls with a smile.

“Y/n won’t join me in trying to ban pumpkin spice from campus” MJ says with a sigh.

“Because it’s a personal preference MJ” y/n reminds her.

“Except that it is only a preference because capitalistic America tells you that you should enjoy it” MJ defends.

Y/n shrugs, “I honestly don’t care though, I like it”.

Ned nods, “me too”.

“You guys, don’t be so basic, it’s not even that great” MJ whines, “it’s practically the start of fall and you’re already needing it?”

Y/n rolls her eyes, “I don’t care if it makes me a basic bitch, I want my Pumpkin Spice Latte and I want it now”.

“Oh! Hi Peter!” Y/n giggles, seeing a frozen Peter standing next to her all of a sudden.

She blushes at his wide eyes and suddenly regrets her outburst.

“Hi y/n/n” he smiles, “I think I missed something”.

“Oh… MJ just says I’m being a bad person by enjoying pumpkin spice” y/n mumbles, looking to MJ to change the conversation.

However, MJ was as headstrong as always and didn’t see the desperate look on her friend’s face as she silently asked for help so her crush wouldn’t think she was crazy.

“I didn’t say that, I just said it is basic and a capitalistic ploy you’re falling victim to” MJ defends.

Peter shook his head, facing y/n with a soft smile, “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, if it’s what you want you should get it”.

She blushes and in a cliche manner tucks some hair behind her ear unconsciously, “thanks Peter, someone’s on my side!”

Ned frowns, “hey I am too!”

Y/n laughs and nods, breaking eye contact with Peter as her focus shifts to the group, “true Ned, sorry. Just needed to thank Peter for coming to my defense”.

Ned was about to argue that he’d tried to do that as well but when he saw the proud look on his best friend Peter’s face, he stayed silent.

“We should probably get to class” MJ said, closing her locker.

———

“Y/n?” Peter asked, his eyes examining each detail of her face.

She smiled over at him, biting the inside of her lip and nodded, “Yeah Peter?”

“I didn’t think you drank coffee” He said softly, recalling the last time he considered working up the courage to ask her out.

He’d changed his mind when all he could come up with was a basic coffee date and he recalled that days before y/n said she didn’t do coffee.

Y/n blushed, “you remember that?”

Peter’s cheeks flushed but he forced a nod, “of course”.

“Is that a spidey thing?” She asked quietly, her voice a whisper.

Peter laughed softly, “no, it’s not a spidey thing. I just remember important things”.

Y/n knew her cheeks must have matched the dark red of the lockers as she smiled and looked away, craning her neck to the shoulder opposite her best friend.

“Y/n/n? What’re you doing?” He chuckled, tenderly poking her cheek.

She looked over at him and he smiled innocently at her, making her sigh and bury her head into the crook of his neck.

Peter nearly froze at the contact but maintained his walk, his hand instinctively looping behind her back to keep her from falling given her off-balance stance.

“Peter, last week you forgot Ned was building the Lego Death Star in your room until you swung in and landed on it. I thought he’d never forgive you” y/n teased, her head still on his shoulder but no longer pressed into his neck as she stabilized herself more for their walk.

Peter groaned, “that was an accident! I had too much going on with… you know. Plus I hadn’t slept well “.

Y/n smirked, lifting her head off his shoulder and Peter tried not to frown at the sudden change.

“Are you saying recalling if I drink coffee or not is more important than the Lego Death Star?” Y/n joked, grinning excessively at him.

Peter bit his lip and shrugged, “so what if I am?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “oh! In that case, you’re right, I don’t normally drink coffee. But I feel like being a basic bitch today and getting a damn pumpkin spice latte”.

Peter chuckled, “why don’t you then?”

She sighed, “it might sound lame but I don’t want to go by myself and clearly MJ won’t go”.

Peter nodded, “oh. Maybe Ned?”

Peter cursed himself, why did he suggest Ned and not himself?!

“Oh, uh yeah, maybe. I suppose I could text him” y/n said.

Peter sighed hating his suggestion even if he knew Ned and y/n weren’t interested in each other.

He should’ve been the one going.

“Okay” Peter said, opening the classroom door for y/n.

“Were you not wanting to go with me Peter?” Y/n blurted, the question burning too hot in her mind to be left unspoken.

Peter pulled out her stool in silence before sitting in his.

As he took out his notebook he finally spoke, still unsatisfied with his response, “I umm was going to patrol tonight”.

It wasn’t a lie but he would much rather go with her, he just didn’t want her to feel obligated to invite him.

And as per usual, Peter was far too oblivious towards his best friend y/n’s non-platonic feelings towards him.

“Ahh” y/n said, clicking her pen, “okay, just be safe yeah?”

Peter smiled and nodded as he sorted out their lab supplies on the desk.

———

“Dude, she was clearly wanting you to ask her!” Ned shouted, earning a hard slap to his arm from Peter.

“Shhh!” Peter scolded, “besides, how could you possibly know that?!”

“Shouldn’t your Peter tingle thing help with this?” Ned groans.

“That’s not how it works Ned “ Peter sighed, “I wish”.

Ned nodded, “well she’s my best friend too and as her best friend, objectively removing myself from you for now dude, I can tell she’s into you”.

“How?” Peter asked for what Ned felt was the hundredth time today.

“For one, Peter she’s not this cozy and snuggly with anyone else” Ned laughed, “she’s always kind but I once saw Max try to put his arm around her and she looked like she wanted to snap it off”.

Peter paused, setting his notebook down as he replayed todays events.

“What?” Ned asked, watching as Peter zoned out.

“I did that today” Peter whispered.

“You wrapped your arm around her in a flirty way?!” Ned gushed excitedly, “I mean that’s basic but we can work with it!”

Peter groaned, “it wasn’t basic”.

Ned rolled his eyes, “whatever. Besides, the point is she clearly didn’t snap your arm off. Did it look like she wanted to?”

Peter blushed and rapidly shook his head, “no. She… she actually leaned in more”.

Ned let out this high pitched sound, making the class turn towards the boys and their teacher scold him.

“You have to finally act on this Peter! I’ve been watching you painfully crush on her for so long now!” Ned whisper shouts when the class resumes.

“Yeah, yeah, dude I know… Alright, you’re right… but what do I do?” Peter asked.

“What do you want to do?” Ned responded, closing his notebook as he unconsciously elected to not bother with the rest of the class.

“I… I know you think it’s basic, but she really wants to get a pumpkin spice latte” Peter said, rubbing his face while thinking.

“Beautifully basic, but I think it’s a good idea” Ned grins.

“Only one problem, I told her to text you to ask if you’d go with her” Peter admits.

“You what?! Why would you do that?!” Ned asked, irritated his best friend would blow this chance already.

“Mr. Leeds! One more outburst and you’ll be removed from class “ the teacher reprimands, causing Ned to sink in his seat and try not to laugh.

“I said I had patrol” Peter shrugged, “I didn’t see the signs that maybe she likes me back”.

“Because you’re oblivious, it’s like when you see her your brain short circuits” Ned smirked, “it’s fine, I haven’t checked my phone, I’ll just say no”.

“No, don’t do that. I don’t want her upset” Peter frowned.

“I’ll just ask to do another day then, later this week and you ask her out for tonight instead” Ned suggests.

“Thanks dude, I don’t know what I’d do without you” Peter grins.

“That’s why I’m your guy in the chair” Ned proclaims, sneaking his phone out.

———

“I heard we may have a pop quiz today” y/n groaned, walking with Peter to their next class they had together.

“On a Monday? There has to be a law against that” Peter laughed.

Y/n smiled, “right? Ugh, Mondays suck. Especially when MJ is in the mood she’s in “.

“Still hasn’t come around on the pumpkin spice?” Peter asked, sighing as he picked up on the hint of sadness in her tone.

“No” y/n said, rolling her eyes as she approached one of the desks, “she just keeps sending me links to articles and studies showing her stance”.

“She isn’t!” Peter laughed, shaking his head as he sat in the desk behind her as usual.

“Look, it’s been hours” y/n said, passing him her phone.

“Oh wow, that’s a lot” Peter said, eyes widening at the countless texts in the thread with MJ.

“I know, I haven’t even been able to check the texts from my mom or anyone else” y/n said, “I may need to mute her”.

Peter laughed, “maybe”.

“Done” She laughed, smirking at him before looking back at her phone.

“Y/n? Everything okay?” Peter asked, seeing her shoulders drop slightly.

Y/n nods, her back still to him, “yeah, Ned just can’t meet today”.

“Oh” Peter sighed, wishing Ned handled that a bit better, “I’m sorry”.

However, he knew ultimately it was on him.

If he’d just told her or at least not suggested she ask Ned, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Alright, phones and books away, get out a pencil and eraser. You’ve got twenty minutes to finish this” the teacher ordered before Peter could fix the situation.

———

“Grades will be back tomorrow. For now, take out your notebooks and textbook. We’ll now begin covering the next chapter “ their teacher stated, tapping the stack of tests on the desk to straighten it.

As the class worked through the first sections of the new chapter, Peter focused on coming up with a note.

He didn’t want it to be too simple but also not over the top either.

Ned would argue for him to just be himself but that was the hard thing.

Peter loved how he was with y/n but also wanted to be able to be more honest and compliment her more.

He didn’t want to overdo it this early though either.

After several scratched out pieces of notebook paper, he finally accepted one idea.

“Y/n” Peter whispered, reaching his hand out next to the side of his desk.

Y/n turned to look at him, making Peter nod to his hand.

Y/n fought back a giggle, but the smile it caused was enough for Peter’s heart to swell.

She eagerly grabbed the note from him and placed it on her desk.

Peter wanted so desperately to be able to see her reaction.

“This isn’t you pitying me for not having anything to do tonight is it Peter?” She whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear her with her back to him still.

“Because I don’t want that” she said, and Peter noticed the pain in her voice.

He sighed, “no, I swear. Hold on”.

He scribbled a new note, quickly promising he has always wanted to ask her on a date but was nervous and this just made it a little easier to confess.

He reached forward and tapped her arm, slipping the new note into her hand.

She nodded once before turning to look at the paper.

Peter bounced his leg anxiously as he waited for her response, his eyes analyzing her every movement.

He tried not to panic as more time passed without her saying anything.

It wasn’t until she tapped the side of his desk, a note held between her fingers, that he calmed down.

He grinned and quickly grabbed it from her, nearly ripping the paper as he rushed to open it.

His smile grew even wider as he saw her ‘then yes Peter, I’d love to go on a date with you! What should I wear?’ with a perfect little heart in the corner by her initials.

As cliche or basic as it sounds, he adored the way she wrote his name and the flawlessness of her doodle.

Peter wrote out a final note detailing that she could wear whatever and when he’d get her.

He even added a little heart of his own, although it wasn’t as perfect as her’s; but he couldn’t not draw one back!

———

“You look so pretty” Peter blushed, wishing his brain would function enough for a better compliment.

Y/n blushed and tugged on his jean jacket, “says the one dressed aesthetically for fall, I love the jacket and flannel”.

“Thank you” Peter blushed, grabbing her hand in his, “Are you cold? You could wear it!”.

Y/n giggled softly at how nervous he seemed, she squeezed his hand to hopefully calm him, “thank you Peter. I’m not right now, but I’ll be sure to let you know“.

Peter grinned and nodded, “ready to go?”

She nodded, “but are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Peter laughed, “you’ve never been much for surprises” He noted.

Y/n blushed at how he noticed another seemingly small detail about her.

Sure they’d been friends for awhile, but these were things Ned and MJ hadn’t picked up on.

It meant Peter was paying closer attention to her.

If she’d asked, Peter would’ve freely admitted this fact to her; especially after seeing how happy it made her this morning.

“You wanted a Pumpkin Spice latte right?” Peter asked nervously.

“Yes!” She cheered, Peter laughing as she added a little skip in her walk as they headed down the street, “Are you serious? Thank you Peter!”

Peter blushed but grinned widely, “of course, I promise to always see that you get what you want”.

Y/n blushed as well, scooting closer to him, their interlaced hands now pressed against his outer leg.

“Even if it makes me a basic bitch?” Y/n laughed.

Peter shook his head as he laughed with her, “I don’t use that word”.

“What, basic?” She teased.

Peter rolled his eyes playfully as she smirked, “no. The other word. The derogatory term used for women”.

Y/n smiled at his ever present kindness and innocence.

Even after everything he’d seen, done, experienced, and lost…

Even after everything they’d faced together…

He still managed to keep his softness, one of her all-time favorite things about Peter.

“Oh, that word!” Y/n smirked, “so you’re saying I’m not a bitch but I am basic?”.

“I didn’t say that!” Peter gasped, weakly glaring at her upon seeing she was kidding.

Y/n laughed and kissed his cheek, making hoods eyes widen and cheeks flush a deep red.

“I know, but I do know it’s cliche and basic, so thanks for letting me be basic” y/n smiled.

“If it’s basic, it’s beautifully basic” Peter murmured blissfully, agreeing with Ned.

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[dreamsontheirway]

Bait | Ch. 3 | S.R. x OC

Story Summary: Willow Brooks is a kind-hearted, but spitfire red head who treats each case with the upmost compassion and care. But when an unsub is targeting women who look just like her, she’s faced with the dilemma of acting as bait for the unsub. Spencer Reid, her boyfriend, is absolutely not keen on the idea. Warnings: mentions of the murder case Word Count: 0.9k

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It's almost time...

Duct tape and rope and scissors, all for my crime...

I'm doing this for you, magpie. Please fly back to me.

Please, my dearest, think of how happy I'll be.

-----

The ride on the jet was mostly silent and uneventful, except for Spencer’s hand on Willow’s leg. Spencer seemed to be doing alright, but she knew better. He had been on the same page of his book now for nearly five minutes. He would have normally read at least ten pages in that time. Willow chose not to say anything about it. She rose and made her way to the small kitchenette area on the jet.

“You okay?”

Emily Prentiss’ voice was an angelic break in the silence that had encompassed the atmosphere for nearly an hour. Willow smiled at her.

“Yes, I’m fine. Spencer on the other hand, I’m not quite sure.”

Emily frowned slightly, and nodded in understanding.

“He’ll be alright, he’s just scared. I think he’s mostly processed everything with Maeve and with, well me, but that trauma response is still there. He just needs time to process.”

Willow nodded. Emily Prentiss was wise beyond her years, and Willow appreciated the clarity and the advice.

“Thanks, Emily,” she spoke, and flashed her a solemn smile.

“Anytime.” Emily smiled softly at her before taking her coffee and taking her seat.

Willow prepared her own coffee consisting of cream and two sugars before making her way back to her designated seat beside Spencer. He looked up from his book, of which he had finally made it to the next page, and smiled at her. She could see fear and sadness behind his eyes, and it broke her heart.

"Hi sweetheart," Spencer cooed, using his pet name for her. He often did not use pet names when they were in public, and Willow picked up on this, noting it.

Willow smiled, and curled up next to him. Spencer placed his book down, and enveloped her in his sweater-clad arms. He craned his neck and reached down to place a soft kiss atop her head.

"I love you," Spencer cooed. "So much."

-----

The jet landed safely in Rochester, and everyone piled into the SUVs to drive to the local police department. Upon arriving, the team got set up in a large roundtable room, to which they began setting up the materials. Hotch began reviewing the information that they had gathered thus far.

"What we know is that this unsub cuts off a strand of the victim's red hair in the same location; behind the ear. We also know that so far, they have dumped the bodies in alleyways."

"The sentimental value of the hair could suggest a woman, but the harshness of leaving them in alleyways, especially near dumpsters, is inconsistent with that of a female unsub," Spencer chimed in, his brows furrowed in thought.

Agent Hotchner nodded in agreement before continuing.

"We can only assume that he finds his victims in a social setting, like a bar or nightclub. That's where we'll start." Hotch looked at Willow then, nodding curtly. She nodded back, acknowledging her involvement in the developing plan.

She could see Spencer's jaw tense and pulsate from across the table. As soon as Hotch motioned for everyone to be dismissed, he spoke up.

"Hotch, can I please talk to you?" Spencer's voice was poisonous, and Willow feared what he was going to say to their boss, but she exited the roundtable nonetheless.

"Yes?" Hotch spoke, fully expecting what Spencer was about to say to him.

Spencer merely looked at him, pleadingly, at first. His fists resting at either side clenching and unclenching in frustration.

"How can you do this?"

Aaron Hotchner sighed in exasperation. He had expected this. Aaron resonated with Spencer's wanting to protect Willow. Spencer didn't have a lot of people in his life aside from the team, and Hotch knew how precious she was to him.

"Reid, you know this isn't personal. As your unit chief, I have to do whatever it takes to catch this unsub, and this plan is not an unreasonable one."

Hotchner's brows furrowed in a thick line and he did not break eye contact with Spencer. The young genius maintained his scowl, his jaw tensing, before he stormed out of the roundtable room, slamming the door in his fury.

"Spence!"

Willow exclaimed, surprised by her boyfriend's harsh outburst when he stormed into the center of the police department. Spencer continued straight past her and out the main doors.

Willow followed suit, having to pick up a light jog due to her boyfriend's long legs carrying him much quicker than her.

"Spencer, please!"

He stopped then, hearing the anguish in her voice. Willow suffered from extreme, sometimes debilitating, anxiety and Spencer tried his best to never be the cause for it. He was disappointed to think he had failed today.

He turned then, seeing light tears prick her eyes, from both the anxiousness and frustration.

"Spence," she cooed, and reached out to place her palm on the side of his face. Her eyes searched his frantically, trying desperately to find the source of his outburst. She had an idea, of course, but she was didn't know what him and their unit chief had talked about.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbled, looking into her eyes. "This all just pisses me off."

"I know it does, and I'm sorry."

Willow and Spencer stood there, in the hallway of the Rochester police department, and enveloped one another in a tight hug.

-----

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