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cyberseong · 3 days ago

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extra credit.

pairing: yunho x f!reader

genre: smut/pwp, professor!yunho, non idol au

warnings/topics: not proofread, there’s quite a bit if plot before it gets to the actual smut, dom!yunho, sub!reader, blowjob, facefucking, unprotected sex, yunho’s a bit mean in the beginning, use of pet names (sweetheart, princess)

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i haven’t posted on here in months, but i wrote this so i could at least get something out. i might be able to post more regularly soon, but anyway, enjoy! notes/reblogs are appreciated!

it’s nearing the end of april— which only meant that the long, excruciating exam season was upon you, just like it was for every other student enrolled in college.

you’ve been studying your ass off, but the amount of assignment and project deadlines that were creeping up on you made all your effort look meaningless. with more near-failing grades than you’d like to have, you decided on requesting grade improvement opportunities from the professors of these classes.

the first two gave you extra credit assignments with no hassle— something you could do quickly for a decent grade boost, as not even the professors wanted to be stuck grading them as a side quest during a month where they were already overwhelmed with important papers to grade.

you made it to the room which held your third and last professor that you’d bother for the day— professor jeong. he taught business ethics; it should’ve been an easy passing grade, but professor jeong was someone who wanted to make his class a living hell for his students, simply because he had the time and was getting paid to do so. he made it a mission to give out intricate and detailed assignments, even selecting a 20-page paper as your semester final.

he definitely wasn’t going to be lenient when it came to extra credit assignments either.

taking in a deep breath, you knocked on his office door, waiting to hear his exasperated “come in” before opening the door and sliding into the room.

he looked incredibly tired, more so than usual; stacks of students’ finals were sprawled out on his desk. surely he’s regretting his petty decision of giving such a hard assignment right about now. regardless, his frustration only made him more attractive than he already was normally; you’d be lucky if you could make it out of his office alive with the way his intense gaze made you so uncomfortably hot.

“good afternoon professor jeong… i wanted to ask if any extra credit assignments were availab–”

“no. if you really wanted a passing grade this semester, y/n, you would’ve made that project that was turned in a few days ago look a little less rushed and pathetic than it was.” yunho spoke with a flat tone, only looking away from his computer once to give you a strong, disappointed look as he finished his critique.

“well– yes, that is true, i’m truly sorry about that professor… i’ve been so swamped with studying and going to class and working that i didn’t have much time for the assignment… even a small extra credit assignment would do, or even an extension on the original–”

“was i not clear enough the first time? even on the first day of my class, i made it very clear to everyone that half-assed work would not be tolerated nor forgiven. i will not be giving you an extra credit opportunity, y/n.”

the way he spoke down to you so sternly alone was enough to make you quiver; the man was the living and breathing embodiment of sex appeal itself; you had to be extra careful in not letting your mind drift off even while having such a serious conversation with him.

you were almost certain he had seen the way you looked at him. the tone in which he reprimanded might as well have caused you to come undone right there in the middle of his office. most of the people who took his class only registered for it because of how hot he was compared to the other old and worn out professors that taught classes for your major. so, could you really be faulted for following in everyone else’s footsteps?

“are you sure there’s nothing i could do to bring my grade up? i really need to pass my classes this semester, i’ll do anything, please,” you felt so pathetic begging him for a chance at the possibility of a grade improvement, but it was better than retaking his entire class again after the summer.

yunho sighed before taking his reading glasses off of his face, finally removing his attention from his screen in order to analyze the situation at hand. the underlying suggestive intent of your words caused him to cock an eyebrow; he takes in your position over his desk, the way your slightly leaning into it and the way your cleavage is on full display in front of his face at the moment told him all he needed to know about your request.

a small grin crept onto his face as he reconsidered his previous firm rejection to your request. there’s no harm in a little fun, and he’d be a fool to reject an advance from such an alluring student of his, right?

“anything… is that so…” yunho teases, getting up from his chair and walking around his desk, towering over you as he now stood in front of you. “if you really wanted some extra credit, i could use a nice stress reliever right now… siting and grading 20-page essays for hours without break has made my body so tense…” he mockingly whined, rubbing a hand over his stiffened neck to verify his words.

you looked up at him with doe eyes, practically waiting for whatever his next command would be. you were surprised at how easy it was for him to fall for your act– not that you were complaining about his fast submission. you were lucky to even hold his attention for this long, let alone have the honor of relieving his stress in exchange for a better grade in his class.

“get on your knees, sweetheart,” yunho paused, unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly of his slacks. “you’ve done so much talking and pleading, why don’t you show me what else this pretty mouth of yours is capable of?”

a blush crept over your cheekbones as you obeyed him, pulling his hard length out of the confinement of his boxers and stroking it slowly with your soft, manicured hand. as you spread the precum down his cock to reduce the friction, yunho groans at the sudden feeling pulsing through his body.

you took most of his cock into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as your tongue swirled around his tip. you eventually fit his entire length into your mouth, deepthroating it as your head bobbed back and forth with ease. you moaned around it, sending vibrations throughout yunho’s core– this elicited a long, drawn out groan from him, followed by a string of curses as his hands find their way to your hair. he maintains a stern grip on your luscious strands as he takes control of your head, thrusting into your face to chase his high that was approaching.

“f-fuck, princess, your mouth feels so good around me– so fucked out all because of my cock, hm? you take it so well y/n,” he teased before giving your throat one final thrust before spilling his seed into your mouth, moaning as you stroke his length once more, overstimulating him in the comedown of his climax. “get up off the floor and bend over the desk, sweetheart.”

almost as if your body was moving on autopilot, you immediately follow his command. before you could even lay upon the desk, yunho’s large hands are halting your movements to quickly undo the buttons of your blouse, causing the garment to be thrown somewhere on the floor of his office. he undoes the hooks of your bra before discarding of that as well. he gently but hurriedly pushes you forward onto the polished wood, trailing a hand down your spine in admiration of your soft, glowing skin that covered your body. the action sent shivers throughout your body, the ghostlike touch of his fingertips now haunting your lower back. his other hand traveled to your skirt, lifting it up to reveal a red lace undergarment that just barely covered what it was meant to.

“looks like you planned for this, unless you just normally go around with such an inviting surprise hidden under your clothes. i’d be disappointed to hear that anyone else is getting this view, sweetheart.” he spoke with a half-sincere tone as he moved the lace to the side, the tip of his length now teasing your wet entrance. he only slid in deeper as you began to respond.

“ah, you’re the only- fuck, only one professor jeong, only ever- fuck! wear it on days i have your class,” your vocal moans sound through the room as his thrusts became deep and fast, his cock hitting all the right places to make you a wrecked, hysterical mess.

“i’m- mmh, so close professor, fuck, ‘s so big, i can’t,” you ranted. he gave one last long thrust before you reached your high, coming undone on his length. he sped up his last few thrusts, causing you to see stars as you were already getting overstimulated from the overwhelming orgasm he just gave you.

yunho soon pulled out, cleaning the both of you up a little before he pulled your skirt back down and freshened up himself. he handed you the clothing that was previously discarded to the floor before he adjusted his tie and sat back down in his office chair.

“you can consider your grade in my class to be fixed, y/n,” yunho said with a bit more life in his words than he did when you first came into his office. he fixed his hair and put his reading glasses back on his face, his fingers soon clacking on his keys again. “and feel free to visit my office again any time; i’ll be here to help.” a slight chuckle left his lips as he made the double meaning of his words apparent.

“thank you– and you'll see me again very soon, professor jeong.”

#ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #atz smut #yunho fic #yunho fanfic #yunho x reader #yunho smut

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babydollslibrary · 2 days ago

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MIDNIGHT RAIN — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

published: February 10th, 2023

summary: in which Quinn asked y/n to marry him when they graduated high school but she breaks the news that she got signed to a record label and is moving to California. 5 years later, they meet again and rekindle their romance.

notes: taylor swift does not exist in this universe… you’ll understand why.

GIF by svechnikovvv

**PAST**

“congratulations graduating class of 2017. you did it!”

i grin, standing and joining the rest of my class and tossing my cap in the air. i’m finally free.

family and friends pile onto the football field that held our graduation and i scan the crowds of newly graduated students, looking for my boyfriend. i finally spot him over with his family, whispering with his brothers. i walk over with a wide smile on my face, and watch as his brother, Luke, nudges him, pointing my way. Quinn looks over and smiles back.

“we did it, Quinny!” i cheer when i arrive at his side. he pulls me in by the waist, dipping me into a kiss.

“we did it, pretty girl.” he whispers when we pull away.

“i have amazing news, bubs!” i can’t wait any longer, i’ve kept my secret for the past two months, not wanting to jinx it. but now that my contract is signed and i’m officially moving next month, it’s finally time that i can share the news; i signed a recording contract. Quinn has always been supportive of my dreams, and when i started posting my songs online, he was the one who predicted that i would get signed to a record label. so i know he’ll be excited when he finds out he was right.

“i can’t wait to hear it, babe. but, i have a question first.” Quinn looks towards his family. his brothers bounce on their feet and his parents are talking with mine, but both sets of parents have their eyes on us. when i see them go quiet and smile, my brows furrow in confusion and i tilt my head. but when i look back at Quinn, i understand why.

my boyfriend of three years, since the summer before sophomore year, is bent down on one knee. my eyes grow wide and i watch as he reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a ring box.

“y/n, these last three years have been the best years of my life. you make me feel like the happiest man in the world when i’m with you.” i tear up. “you’ve been my biggest supporter since the day we met, and i’m so grateful that i get to call you mine. but now, i’d love it if i could call you my wife. will you marry me?”

tears roll down my cheeks and i’m at a loss for words. i can’t say yes. i want to say yes. i want to say yes, so badly. but i’m moving to California next month, and he’ll be staying in Michigan to go play hockey for University of Michigan.

“Quinn. i- i can’t.” his face drops and my heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million little pieces. “i got signed to a record label. i leave for L.A. next month.”

Quinn stands, nodding his head in embarrassment.

“yeah, no, yeah i probably should’ve let you tell me your news first.” he frowns.

“i’m so sorry, Quinny. i- i don’t know what to say. i would say yes, you know if the circumstances were different, i would say yes.” tears still blur my vision, but i can still see him nod.

“yeah, i know.”

**PRESENT**

Quinn and i tried to make it work after that, but our dynamic was off. and i know i bruised his ego a bit too hard for us to make it through. by the time i left for Los Angeles, we were broken up.

now it’s been five years since we broke up, and i still can’t help but think back on our relationship. sure, i’ve gone on dates and had one short-term boyfriend in the past few years, but no one has measured up to Quinn. he was my soulmate and the one who got away. lately, it seems like all i can do is write songs about him and our relationship, and my fans have definitely taken a notice. even now, i’m in my studio, recording a new song and it’s about him.

“he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain. he wanted a bride, i was making my own name. chasing that fame. he stayed the same. all of me changed like midnight.”

i finish off the intro and i can hear my producers voice through the speaker in the recording booth.

“that was great, y/n. i think that was the last take that we needed for that one. let’s move onto the first verse.” she says. i nod and hear the beat pick up again.

“my town was a wasteland. full of cages, full of fences. pageant queens and big pretenders. but for some, it was paradise. my boy was a montage. a slow-motion, love potion. jumping off things in the ocean. i broke his heart ‘cause he was nice. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain.”

tears gather in my eyes, pushing to fall, and i attempt to blink them away, but all the blinking does is make them spill over, rolling down my cheeks. the door to the recording booth opens and my producer, Ashley, steps through.

“hey, are you okay?” she asks sweetly, rubbing a hand on my back as i wipe away my tears.

“yeah, it’s just still really hard.” i let out a weak laugh at how pathetic i am. crying over a guy i dated five years ago. “god, i’m so stupid.”

“you’re not stupid, y/n. you made the decision that you thought was best for you at the time. looking back, would you have made the same decision?” in addition to being my producer, Ashley is also my best friend. we’ve actually been friends since eighth grade, and when she graduated college a year ago with her bachelor’s degree in music production, i hired her.

“i- i don’t know. i mean, i love where i ended up, career wise. but i miss him so much, Ash.” i reply. my tears have started to ease, but now i’m stuffed up from crying and can’t record at the moment, so i hang up my headphones on the microphone.

“then, maybe you’re a little stupid.” she jokes. i shake my head, letting out another weak laugh.

“i know what will cheer you up.” she sing-songs. “i have tickets to the Ducks game tonight. let’s go cheer for some hot hockey guys. maybe we’ll even get to embarrass Trevor.”

i smile and nod in agreement. Trevor is another close friend of mine. he’s actually the best friend of Quinn’s brother, Jack. i never met him when he lived in Michigan for USNTDP, but the hockey world is small, so i was only a little surprised when i met him last year at an Anaheim Ducks event and found out he knew the Hughes family.

“okay. let’s go embarrass Trevor.” i tell Ashley. she cheers and we leave the studio, heading back to our apartment to get ready.

Ashley and i arrived to the Honda Center about fifteen minutes before warmups started, finding our glass seats and settling in. when the Ducks skate onto the ice and we see Trevor, we jump up and cheer.

“WOOO! GO TREVY!” i scream as he hits the puck in the net for a practice shot, catching his attention. he looks over and laughs, skating over to the glass and banging in front of my face. i laugh and joke- “fancy seeing you here!”

“you guys can try and embarrass me all you want. i’m a shameless man. i’m fueled on your shouts and cheers.” he says, a wide grin on his face.

“who you chirping at tonight?” i ask. Ashley never actually told me who they’re playing against. it’s at that moment that the opposing team skates onto the ice, and i’m frozen in place when i see the Canucks.

“your ex.” Trevor wags his eyebrows before skating off to finish his warmups.

“what the hell, Ashley?” i’m angry, you can tell as much by my voice, and i know she knows why.

“it’s just watching a game, y/n/n. you still love him, it’s not like you don’t watch his games on tv.” she replies, shrugging her shoulders.

“that’s different. he can’t tell i’m watching through the tv. what if he sees me?” i spot him on the ice, talking to one of his team members, and immediately turn to face Ashley, hoping he won’t recognize me. i don’t want him to think i’m pathetic and still in love with him. it’s the truth, but it’s embarrassing enough without him knowing. i’m sure he’s moved on by now.

i’m able to make it through warmups without him noticing me, but i’m not so lucky when the game actually starts. it’s only halfway through the first period when Quinn scores the first goal of the game, and before i can think twice, i’m up on my feet clapping and celebrating.

“WOOO!” i yell, and Ashley laughs at me, teasing me about how i’ll always be an internal WAG. but i let her comments roll of my back and continue to cheer, watching as he stops not far from the glass in front of us, getting hugged by his teammates. “GO QUINNY!”

it’s then that he turns, eyes wide, and i realize i’ve made a grave mistake. my voice plus the nickname has tipped him off. he spots me, and i freeze, my hands mid-clap. i let my hands fall to my sides, and Ashley pulls me back down to my seat by the back of my jacket. Quinn’s gaze stays focused on me, and i give a small wave in return. he raises his hand back at me, and i can tell he’s still shocked to see me but one of his teammates pulls his attention back to the game.

throughout the rest of the game, Quinn continues to glance over towards me, and i regret letting Ash rope me into attending this game. it ends with 4-2, Canucks winning, and i feel bad for Trevor, but i can’t help feeling proud of Quinn. Ashley and i stay in our seats, talking after the teams leave the ice, and i get a text from a number i never thought i would hear from again.

—

From: Huggy Bear 🧸🤍

meet me outside the visitors dressing room please. i think we should talk.

—

the text makes me nervous. is he mad that i was here? did i upset him by being here? by cheering for him? i show the text to Ash and she says she’ll grab an uber home so that she doesn’t impose on our conversation.

i find my way to the visitors dressing room, giving my name to the security to find that Quinn had already informed them i would be coming. i stand in the hallway waiting, looking over every time the dressing room door opens. i sign a few autographs and take some pictures with a few of the players for their girlfriends or sisters while i wait.

it feels like the entire team has left when Quinn finally comes out. i watch him as he steps out, dressed back in his arrival suit.

he looks so good, it’s unfair.

“hey.” he says, walking over to me. “you were at the game.”

“i was.” i tell him, my voice cracking with my emotion. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you by coming. i didn’t even-”

“you didn’t upset me.” he cuts me off. i study his face, trying to gauge how he feels. i used to be able to read him easily, and it seems like that talent hasn’t left me. “i was surprised to see you. i’ve never seen you at any of my other games, i kinda just assumed you didn’t care now that we’re… not together.”

“i watch all your games, Quinny.” my voice is barely above a whisper. soft and anxiety ridden.

“you do?” he questions, his voice full of hope.

“yeah. well, every one i can. i’ve even missed events just to stay home and watch. i never stopped caring about you, Q. just because we aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean i don’t think about you.” i tell him. “a lot.”

“you think about me a lot? you ever write a song about me then?” he teases, but now i’m wondering if he’s ever even listened to any of my songs.

“all of my songs are about you, Quinny.” i confess. “even my new ones.”

“you can’t- you can’t just say that, y/n. i’ll start thinking things that i know aren’t true.” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“like what?” i look at him with doe eyes, the exact ones i know he loved five years ago.

“like that i might still have a chance with you.” he says lowly. i might regret my next words, but i need to get them off my chest.

“can i confess something?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies

“if you asked me again, i would say yes.” i tell him. “if i could go back to that day, i would’ve said yes.”

Quinn’s response comes in the form of his lips against mine. his hands hold my face and i press my body closer to his. my reaction is immediate, my lips moving with his. the kiss is slow and sweet, a reconnection of two lovers. he sucks on my bottom lip before his tongue pushes past my lips, slipping against my own. i pull away before the kiss can get too heated.

“will you go to dinner with me?” he asks.

“i’d love to.”

**3 YEARS LATER**

“Q! your bridezilla wants you!”

“Jack Rowden Hughes, i am not a bridezilla!” i scold. the audacity that this boy holds. calling me a bridezilla on my wedding day.

“leave my wife alone, Jack.” Quinn sighs, walking over from across the reception hall.

“yeah. leave his wife alone, Jack.” i tease. sticking my tongue out at him over Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn looks over at me, catching me pulling my tongue back into my mouth.

“you’re such a child.” he sighs, shaking his head at me.

“what does that make you? you just married me.” i ask him.

“i’m not even gonna dignify that with a response.” he replies. i’m laughing when his mom comes over.

“is everything okay, honey? i heard you and Jack arguing.” she says.

“i think everyone in here heard them arguing.” Quinn sighs again.

“hey, at least you know she’s part of the family.” Ellen laughs.

“i’m fine, momma E. Jack was just being annoying. it’s his specialty.” i shrug. Ellen laughs, kissing my cheek before walking away. Quinn takes hold of my hand, pulling me back over to our table, taking a seat and pulling me into his lap.

“what did you want me for, pretty girl?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me steady.

“i just missed you.” i whisper, leaning my forehead against his. he chuckles.

“i was gone for five minutes.” he reminds me.

“i know. but you left me all alone with Jack.” i complain.

“well technically, i left you with Luke. but i feel like i should be apologizing for leaving you with either of them.”

“yes. you should.” i smile.

“how about i apologize to you later? when we get home. i can apologize to you several times.”

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl fic #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks

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chrisstvrns · 1 day ago

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𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

warnings: very fluffy, one mention of laying in bed after sex

word count: 591

requested here!

the reception had ended hours ago, but the warmth of the night lingered like the glow in matt’s eyes every time they landed on you. your dress was a little wrinkled from all the hugs and dancing, your feet ached from wearing heels all day, and your hair was slightly out of place—but matt looked at you like you were still walking down the aisle toward him.

“finally,” he whispered as he closed the door to your newly bought house, the two of you having spent months picking out the perfect one to start your little family in. he spoke with his voice soft but laced with something deeper. “i’ve been waiting all day to have you to myself.”

you laughed, a quiet, tired sound, as he gently tugged you into his arms. “we were together all day,” you teased, though the way your hands rested on his chest betrayed just how much you wanted this moment too. he gently leads you to your bedroom, your bodies resting together as you enter the room with the walls freshly painted a pale grey, an empty, gold picture frame that would soon be hanging your wedding picture, a series of other photos of the two of you lining the dressers and walls.

“not like this,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your face. his thumbs traced your cheekbones, his touch featherlight, like he was still in awe that this was real. “you’re my wife now.”

the word hung in the air between you- soft and sacred. it felt like it carried every promise you’d made to each other, every moment that had led to this.

“and you’re my husband,” you whispered back, your voice catching just a little.

matt’s smile was pure sunshine, his dimples making your heart flip the way they always did. “say it again.”

“why?” you asked, laughing softly as he leaned in closer.

“because i like the way it sounds coming from you.” his lips brushed yours as he spoke, his breath warm and intoxicating, and before you could respond, he kissed you.

it wasn’t the kind of kiss you’d shared during your first dance or even the one at the altar. this one was slower, deeper, like he was pouring everything he felt into it- love, adoration, desire, and gratitude.

when you pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and your hands were tangled in his hair. “you’re staring again,” you said, smiling even as your cheeks warmed.

“can you blame me?” he replied, his voice low and raspy. “you’re breathtaking. i don’t think i’ll ever get used to how lucky i am.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, but the way your heart raced betrayed how much his words meant to you. “you’re such a sap.”

“and you love it,” he shot back, his grin mischievous.

“i do,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i really do.”

the night stretched on, filled with quiet laughter, soft kisses, and the kind of love that felt like forever. it wasn’t rushed or extravagant- it was just the two of you, basking in the glow of the life you’d promised to build together.

as you lay in his arms hours later, your naked bodies tangled up in the sheets, his suit and your dress discarded on the floor, with his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, matt pressed one last kiss to your forehead. “this is the start of everything,” he murmured. "i love you."

"i love you too, matt." you voice gentle, laced with emotion

and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you couldn’t help but believe him. it really was the start of everything.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: im on my break at work right now and i literally wrote this in like five minutes

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

find other parts of this series here

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

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#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #rory's blog𝜗𝜚 #© chrisstvrns #auroras blog𝜗𝜚 #aurora's fanfics ੈ✩‧₊˚#⋆˙⟡ chrisstvrns

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solelyseeking · 1 day ago

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AITA for trying to bag the new kid at my school? PART 3.

Due to the continued lack of progress, I am back, seeking help from the vagrant scum of this subreddit.

Dear basement dwellers and unwashed perverts: If even I, Tom Riddle, cannot get a date, then there truly is no hope for the rest of you.

Time to freshen up your cleaning charms and “lock in”.

For those of you whining about how I ought to just ‘approach him like a normal person’- I am not a normal person. I am a God, baptized in the blood of my enemies. Stop giving me meaningless platitudes, and start helping me smell his hair!

His little sycophant has been following him around everywhere, which has only made approaching him harder. Orion calls himself Harry’s ‘best friend’, but everyone knows Harry only hangs out with him because he feels so sorry for him. (Generations of inbreeding made one ugly baby lol!)

Harry’s very charitable like that. All the more reason to indoctrinate him into my cult, but he’s being weirdly stubborn about the whole thing?

“I don’t wanna learn dark magic, Tom.”

“I don’t believe in blood surpremacy, Tom.”

“Stop trying to take me into your murder dungeon, Tom.”

Isn’t that ridiculous? Anyone with half a brain would love to be invited into my murder dungeon the esteemed chamber built by my lineage!

Harry is very lucky to have so many muscles, as no one expects much brilliance from him. Still, I know he’s cleverer than he lets on. Just the other day, he noticed me cursing Grace Bell for lingering too long outside of the Quidditch changing rooms.

I was just looking out for him. And clearly I was right to do so, since I caught her creeping around while I was waiting for him to emerge, shirtless and damp, from his post game shower. Imagine the kind of obsessed weirdos he’d have to deal with if I wasn’t there to curse them all!

Still, other people would have been totally fooled- but not Harry. He gets me.

Clearly, he’s paying a lot of attention to me, so how can I capitalize on that? I tried spilling a bit of my potion on him in class the other day, so I could remove my shirt sensually and dry the liquid off of him. Only, then he started shouting at me about how I “wasn’t going to get away with this like I did with Myrtle.”

See- another example of how well he knows me! (That’s a girl I killed near my murder dungeon lol)

As you can see, this is a dire situation. Hurry up and provide me with some useful information before he kisses the incest baby.

Harry is very handsome, and I cannot afford to waste time. I have enclosed a photograph of him so that you wastes of genetic material understand the stakes.

[Harry_Potter_Riddle.Jpeg]

suziehiggins: oh, i get it. that guy is adorable

| OP: Stay away from my man, Susan.

Orion.Black: @harryjamespotterr

| OP: You will rue this day, you incestuous hellspawn.

harryjamespotter: Tom, is this some kind of prank?

| OP: Who is Tom I’ve never heard that name in my life.

| harryjamespotter: you literally posted a picture of yourself in the last update…

| ed_hardy: It’s okay, he was just catfishing

| OP: NO I WAS NOT

goonermachine: did you doodle Tom + Harry = Soulmates all over his picture?

| OP: I know you have eyes so I don’t see why you’re asking me such a stupid question. Yes

#tomarry #harrymort #soulseeker #tomarry fanfic #tomarry fic #tomarrymort #knights of walpurgis #tom riddle #harry potter #tom does reddit

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kaynanarie · 3 days ago

Text

Eyes of Gold (Part 12)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and Lutung Kasarung.) (First) (Prev)

“Where are you? Please come out?”

The whispers of a familiar voice roused you from a restless sleep. You yawned and blearily squinted around you, trying to remember where you were. The shadowy silhouettes and dust tickling your nose brought back memories of a storage room. It had been daylight when you first hid but now, night had shrouded you in disorienting darkness. You sat curled up in the corner, wondering how much time had passed and if it was safe to finally leave.

A quiet creak startled you as the door swung open. You watched a shadow silently creep in, slow and low to the floor. As you grew more accustomed to the dark, the form of a small monkey took shape. A familiar monkey with glowing, golden eyes.

“Peaches, are you in here?”

You sat up from your hiding spot in surprise. “Shihou?”

As soon as he saw you, Shihou dashed across the room and flung himself onto you. He clung to your shoulder and patting your face with his tiny paws. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” you assured the monkey, wrapping your cloak around him in a warm hug. “What are you doing here? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“I was worried.” Concern, relief, and disapproval flashed across his face when he met your eyes. “You didn’t return to the mountain after the demons left.”

“I guess you heard about the attack, then?”

“Yes.” His frown pulled into a scowl, teeth bared as he glowered at the floor. “If I had known Bull Demon King was here, I never would have let you leave alone.”

You ran a hand through his fur, feeling him relax under your soothing touch. “It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“Why didn’t you come back?”

“I was helping the villagers,” you said, sitting back down with Shihou perching on your lap. “Thankfully, no one was hurt; just some damaged buildings. But when my sister heard the demons were gone, she came to see for herself. Elder Gran sent me to hide until she left but I guess I fell asleep.” Gentle brushes smoothed his agitated fur back into place. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Shihou sighed and nuzzled against your shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Thanks to your hair.” Shihou suddenly looked worried when he met your gaze. You quickly explained to calm his concern. “It protected me when the bull tried to attack. Sorry I lost it. I think Sun Wukong took it with him…” you trailed off with a yawn.

“Don’t worry about it. As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters,” the monkey said with a relieved smile. “You should get some rest. We can return to the mountain in the morning.”

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to stand, keeping Shihou balanced on your shoulder. “No, we should leave now while everyone else is asleep. I’ve already stayed too long and my sister might catch us trying to leave it we wait.”

“If you insist,” Shihou agreed hesitantly. “There were guards posted around the village when I snuck in. I can guide you around them but we’ll still have to be careful.”

You nodded. “Okay. Let’s get going.” Pulling your cloak close and Shihou closer, you slipped out of the storage room and through the empty house with careful steps. At the front door, you paused to peek out.

Tilting his head, Shihou listened and pointed down a side street. “No guards for now. That should be the fastest route out of town. Once we’re outside the village, I can take you the rest of the way.”

With a final glance, you hurried down the alley and into the shadows. The night was thankfully empty, the rest of the village sleeping off a stressful day. Only moonlight and icy wind filled the streets as you weaved between buildings. Distant voices on the winter breeze occasionally floated by. Each time, you would freeze and Shihou would listen but the guards were too far and too distracted to be of concern.

It took longer than expected and exhaustion was quickly catching up. Your steps were clumsy, your body weary, and yawns plagued you with every other breath. Even your eyes were fighting to slip close between heavy blinks.

Soon, you reached the edge of the village, shivering from bitter cold and fatigue. You almost cried seeing the great stretch of field and looming mountain still left to traverse.

“I’ve got it from here,” Shihou said, nimbly flipping off your shoulder. In a puff of smoke, he transformed and landed in his taller demon form. You weren’t sure if it was your own tired mind or the moonlight softening his features but his figure seemed more striking than usual. It was only made worse when he smiled at you; warm, golden eyes brightening his handsome face. “Come on, up you get.”

You were still recovering from your drowsy admirations when Shihou turned and knelt away from you. “What?”

“I said I would carry you before and this will get us back to the mountain faster.” He grabbed your hand and tugged you forward so you were flush against him. Looping your arms around his neck, he held your knees and stood, easily hoisting you onto his back. “Ready?”

Too tired to protest, you only nodded and nestled against his warm shoulder. “Yeah, let’s go home,” you mumbled sleepily.

Shihou startled and stumbled a bit but quickly recovered with a brisk pace. “Sure thing, Peaches. You get some rest; we’ll be there in no time.”

You closed your eyes and drifted off, only half aware of your surroundings. Shihou’s rhythmic steps, quick and sure; his hold never faltering. Winter chill shifting to a summery heat, chasing away your lingering shivers. The quiet ambiance of the slumbering jungle settling around you as the mountain welcomed you back. It was comforting and familiar and gently lulled you to sleep.

The next thing you knew, Shihou was setting you down amongst plush blankets and fluffy pillows. As he turned to leave, you caught his hand and clung to it. “Stay?” you asked, smiling soft and sweet. Your half open eyes caught his flustered face but he didn’t shy away. Instead, you felt him shuffle into bed next to you, hugging you against him in a comforting embrace. Warm fur tickled your cheek, carrying his soothing scent of peaches and stone. You snuggled closer as you felt the tug of sleep pulling you back under.

“Goodnight, Shihou,” you whispered.

The last thing you remembered was his purred, “Goodnight, my Peach,” and the gentle press of lips to your brow.

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

~🍑 Peach Friends 🍑~

@joyfulllittlething @iluxurycruisedthatship @drspecialhell @moondrop39-dovewing70 @happycarp @chibifox88 @rutabaga-menace

(If you would like to join the tag list, let me know!)

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

Something fluffy and cute with the return of Shihou! Just to share the vision of the soft boi, he's absolutely inspired by various artworks I saw of the 1996 Journey to the West. Thank you so much for reading, all the wonder feedback has kept me motivated! Until next time!

You can also find this story on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60643669

#Monkey King x Reader #Monkey King #Sun Wukong x Reader #Sun Wukong #Eyes of Gold #Shihou #Shihou the Monkey #Shihou x Reader #Beauty and the Beast #Lutung Kasarung #Fairytale and Folktale Inspired #Journey to the West #JTTW #Black Myth Wukong #BMW #KayNanArie #Peach Friend

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justagalwhowrites · 2 days ago

Text

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 7: Precautions

You and Joel deal with a growing threat as you prepare to take on a new role. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 6 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Mild violence. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.7k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

Three Weeks Later

“You remember your talking points, right?” Quinn asked, watching Ellie closely. “And all the rules?”

“No,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve completely forgotten the four things you’ve told me because I’m fucking dumb.”

“Hey,” you said, giving her a look. “C’mon, kid.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed. “Language. Yes, I know I can’t swear. I have to talk about how great Sissy is…”

“You don’t have to,” you said, giving Quinn a look. “You should be honest.”

“Then I’ll tell them all about how you make me do the stupidest homework and don’t let me stay up late and also don’t let me beat up people at school even when they deserve it,” Ellie said, smug.

“No,” Quinn said quickly. “You can’t…”

You cut her off before she got too far.

“It’ll be fine,” you said. “Ellie, say whatever you think is best. However this interview goes, it’ll all blow over in a few weeks, anyway.”

“Just try not to swear quite so much, kiddo,” Joel said, his arms crossed as he hovered between you and the front door, waiting for the reporters to arrive. “You and I both know you know better than that.”

“But I like to fucking swear,” she smirked and Joel, you could tell, was trying not to smirk back. “But if Big Miller says so…”

“Jesus,” Joel rolled his eyes.

The doorbell rang and Quinn ground her teeth but went with Joel to answer the door all the same.

This interview had been a last ditch effort on Quinn’s part. The media had latched on to the concept of Ellie’s existence and hadn’t eased up since the news broke. Photographers still showed up outside her school half the week, paparazzi camped outside the gym where you’d been training for Savage Starlight and would yell questions with Ellie’s name in them at you, there were several viral posts theorizing that you and Anna had secretly been lesbians and Ellie was your daughter together.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your breaking point. Quinn had the idea to offer up an interview to the biggest publications, one in your home where you posed for pictures and answered questions about Ellie, the adoption, Anna, the works. In exchange, they agreed to stop buying photos of you and Ellie as you went about your private lives in Austin.

You hoped it worked. You didn’t want to have to uproot Ellie yet again. The whole reason you’d come to Austin to begin with was that Elise had retired here and you didn’t want to keep Ellie from the only blood relation she had left or ask Elise to move to whatever new place you decided to settle, especially if you’d just have to do this same song and dance again in six months to a year when the press found out where you were again.

You were, at least, out of your brace now. It had been a close call on the interview date, Frank planning a few outfits for you - some designed to downplay the brace, others without worrying about it - just to be safe. But the fracture had healed well and quickly, not requiring a full cast or any extended time in the brace. You’d gotten permission to take it off at your follow up appointment a few days earlier and had been relishing your new-found freedom ever since. Your training for Savage Starlight was slated to pick up more now that you were healed but you were enjoying the small reprieve where you weren’t dealing with the brace and weren’t sore and exhausted every night.

Once things calmed down with the paparazzi, though, you could handle it. You hoped, anyway. In part because, outside of all that, things had been going smoothly - even with your surly bodyguard.

It was still a total mystery to you what he’d meant by keeping things “professional,” but things had definitely been that. Cool and distant, no more sitting next to each other by the pool late at night or sharing a drink now and then - things which seemed perfectly professional in your opinion but apparently weren’t for him. But, while he wasn’t wearing the watch you’d given him, he never snapped at you like he did the day you’d presented it to him, either.

You took what you could get with him. It was a little disorienting, having someone treat you with such indifference - especially when he’d shown some basic, human care in the past. Not that you expected him to treat you the way everyone else did. You weren’t stupid, you knew that almost every person you interacted with every day treated you the way they did because you were famous and because you had a carefully crafted public persona that was only loosely tied to who you really were. They were either fans of someone who didn’t really exist but had your body and face and name or they wanted some proximity to your fame and all that came with it. Of course someone like Joel - who had to be around you all the time, whose job required him to move quickly regardless of your feelings - would treat you differently. But it still stung all the same. Anything short of the harshness he’d treated you with that day in your driveway felt like mercy and you were almost ashamed at how desperately you clung to that.

“Hey,” you said to Ellie, reaching out and taking her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Her eyes met yours. “I’m sorry about this. And you should know that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can shut it down right now if you want.”

She smiled a little tightly at you, giving your hand a small squeeze back.

“I know,” she said. “But… this will make it all easier, right? They’ll leave us both alone and you won’t be as stressed?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you to do this because you’re worried about my stress level or…”

“I know,” she cut you off, smirking a little. “But I’m also doing it for me. Fuck switching schools again, man.”

You laughed a little and rested your head against hers, taking a deep breath as you heard the distinctive sound of Quinn’s reporter wrangling voice from your entry way.

“Well, now you’ll get an idea of what I do every day,” you said, lacing your fingers with hers. “See just how boring it is so you can tell all your friends at school that they don’t actually want to be movie stars when they grow up.”

Ellie snorted.

“Please,” she said. “I know you’re really off doing cool shit while wearing fancy clothes all the time. Definitely one big party, no work at all.”

You laughed before getting up to go greet the reporter, slipping into the version of yourself that you shared with the press as you did.

The interview went surprisingly well. Quinn had handpicked the reporter so that wasn’t a surprise, a well known freelancer who didn’t ask anything too invasive. Ellie held her own, curbing her swearing (mostly, a few, more minor, curse words snuck in) and being her witty and charming self. The photographer posed the two of you together on your couch, by the pool with your guitars, by the kitchen island pretending to cook - even though you basically never did that yourself, anyway.

Joel hovered the entire time. You could feel his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze sharp. He stayed at the back of the reporter and photographer the whole time they were in your house. His arms stayed crossed over his chest, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, your hand going to rest gently on Joel’s back, when the photographer was focused on Ellie and the reporter was reviewing his notes. “You OK?”

“Fine,” he grunted, glancing over at you. “Just tryin’ to do my job.”

“It’s just a reporter,” you said, raising your brows and trying not to smile. “I don’t think they’re going to bite.”

He just made a disgruntled sound and kept his eye on the visitors, his whole body still tense.

He didn’t ease up until the reporter and photographer were gone and outside the gates of your property.

“That was kinda fun!” Ellie said. “A lot of bullshit but not that awful.”

You smiled a little.

“Good,” you said. “I’m glad it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“Told you you don’t actually work,” she teased. You snorted and she turned her attention to Joel. “Hey Big Miller, wanna kill some zombies? I was playing a level the other night and getting my ass kicked, I could use another gun.”

You glanced toward Joel, still worried that, at some point, he would decide he wanted to keep a professional distance from Ellie, too. She’d grown attached to your bodyguard over the last few months, not that she would ever admit it. She sought him out often to play video games or watch a movie. You could usually hear when she got home from school when he picked her up because she was still laughing at something he said when she walked in the door.

It still surprised you, how the two of them had connected. You hadn’t expected a - presumably - single, childless man to have bonded with your brash teenaged niece so thoroughly. Had it been anyone else, it would have sent alarm bells ringing. You had plenty of reason to not trust the motivations of men, especially around teenaged girls, but there was something distinctly safe about Joel and his connection with Ellie. And she needed as many people to care for her as she could get. You didn’t want her to lose that because of some misplaced notion of propriety.

“Been a minute since we went and messed up some undead,” he said, noticeably less tense now that the only people in the house were you, him, Ellie and Quinn. “Guess we should go show ‘em who’s boss.”

“Fuck yeah!” Ellie said, punching the air. You didn’t scold her for her language choice, instead just smiling a little at the two of them as he settled into the couch and picked up the controller - the device looking oddly small in his large hands - before going to find Quinn in your office.

“Ellie’s got some natural skill,” Quinn said, glancing up from the Emmy that functioned as a paperweight on your desk. “She’s smart, charismatic. Got a hell of a mouth on her.”

“Tell me about it,” you snorted. “Aren’t you glad you usually only have to rein me in?”

“Wrangling the two of you all the time would be a bit much,” she said. “I get the feeling you just feed off each other…”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “It used to be worse, back when I wasn’t actually responsible for her and we could just goof off and hang out. Drove her mom insane. I’m half surprised she wanted me to take her when…”

You trailed off, a knot tugging at the back of your throat.

“We won’t get any kind of prior article review,” Quinn said, sensing that you were ready to change the subject. “But I’m sure it’ll be positive. You gave them great shit to work with.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, tightly.

“So,” she said. “Ready for the fight choreo?”

“Think so,” you nodded. “It’ll be weird, I think, but good. I hope good, anyway.”

She hummed in agreement, nodding a little.

“What?” You asked. “I feel like there’s something you’re not saying.”

“Well, we have some timing updates and some new asks,” she said.

“OK…”

“They want you in LA a bit earlier than originally planned,” she said. “They’ve got the costume ready and they want to get you properly in it for a final screen test and fitting as well as for a few shots they can polish into a teaser trailer of sorts for the announcement at the con.”

“Seriously?” You groaned. “When?”

“Friday.”

“Friday?” You gaped. “Thursday is Thanksgiving!”

“I know,” she said. “But they’re pretty set on this and it’s already a hell of a truncated timeline given your injury.”

“Jesus,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Fine.”

“They also want you to attend the premiere of Scarlet Sentinel after the announcement,” she continued.

“When the hell is that?” You asked.

“The 11th,” she said. “Just a few more days, it’s not too bad.”

“A few more days during the first Christmas after Ellie’s mom died,” you snapped.

“I know,” she said.

“And they know what happened at the last fucking premiere, right?” You asked. “Because…”

“They know,” she said. “But you and I both know with the timing of the convention and the announcement, your name is going to come up a lot on that red carpet. They figure, better to have you there to talk about it yourself than leave it to someone else.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I’m coming back on the 12th. This damn movie had better be worth it.”

“Just think of all the little girls who will have a badass superhero to look up to because of you,” she smiled a little. “And remember that you’re the one who wanted me to chase this role for you.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I know. I’m guessing I’ll have my grumpy shadow for this whole adventure?”

“After what happened at the last premiere?” Quinn scoffed. “Absolutely.”

You sighed, frustrated both at the situation and yourself. Part of you was glad that Joel was coming, his presence making you feel more protected than anyone else’s - including the guards who filled in when he was off. But you knew this trip was going to make both of you miserable.

Another few weeks in Los Angeles with Joel. Perfect. Just perfect.

***

Joel ground his teeth, his head on a swivel.

Was there ever going to come a time that he wasn’t tense and frustrated when it came to you?

He doubted it.

There was something inherently frustrating about you. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was but it was absolutely there.

Maybe it was that you were insufferably, disturbingly stubborn. Maybe it was that the whole fucking world seemed drawn to you. Maybe it was your ceaselessly annoying habit of underestimating any potential threat when it came to yourself.

Maybe it was the fact that, in spite of his request for professionalism and his newfound practice of trying to shove some distance between the two of you, he was just as drawn to you now as ever. Even though you were a bad idea, even though you terrified him, he had to fight to keep himself away from you.

He had to force himself to stay in his room when sitting at your house instead of seeking you out. He had to stop himself from thinking about you in ways he fucking knew he shouldn’t, stop himself from searching your name on Google when he was aching and desperate and couldn’t think of anything else. On the rare occasions he wasn’t near you - when he was taking Ellie to school or on his mandatory days off in between stints of protecting you - he’d see something that would remind him of you and have the strange urge to text you about it. As though he’d ever texted you about anything besides business, as though you were friends. As though he was anything at all to you.

Now, he was stuck sitting outside where you were doing some kind of fucking training for that damn movie. Fuck if he knew what it was, all he knew was that he’d tried to talk you and the trainer - some musclebound jackass named Alan who looked like he knew more about making punching look good than making it effective - into moving the training to your house. Alan had vetoed that.

“No,” he’d said, shaking his head as he took a look around the space that Joel had worked with you in for weeks. “No, this is way too small for what we need.”

“The hell you mean it’s too small,” Joel snapped. “What are you doin’, throwing a goddamn party?”

The guy looked at Joel for a moment.

“You realize that this is a favor, right?” He said. “That I’m the most in demand fight choreographer in the goddamn business and I’m taking time away from other work to come here so I can train her because it’s supposedly safer here than LA? I’m not about to slim shit down any further than I already have, I’ve booked us time at a private gym in the city, she’ll be perfectly safe there since you’re apparently incapable of doing your damn job in California.”

Joel fought the urge to swing on the fucker.

“She gets hurt because you need a goddamn ballroom to teach her how to throw a more cinematic punch…”

“That’ll be on you, won’t it?” He said.

Joel couldn’t argue with him. He was right, the weight of that settling in the pit of his stomach. Your safety was on his head.

That was a double edged sword. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep you safe. He wasn’t comfortable with something like your life sitting squarely on his shoulders. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered him with other clients but you were different. In so many things you were different.

He’d been standing in this stupid fucking waiting room of this stupid fucking private gym for what felt like a small eternity. Nothing had happened, of course. Nothing had happened the two days before, either. That didn’t seem to make a damn difference, though. He was still tense, still watching for any threat, still frustrated that you were in an uncontrolled space and out of his sight.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and Joel did a quick scan of the area - including the parking lot that he could see through the large windows - before checking it. It only ever vibrated for family, work or clients, it had to be something important.

He was right. It was a text from Tommy.

Been a change on the Siren case. Come to HQ with principal ASAP.

“Shit,” Joel said quietly, going to text him back when he heard your voice - sharp and panicked and muffled by the door.

His body reacted before his mind caught up. He reached the door before he fully realized what he was doing, damn near ripping the thing off its hinges and racing into the room where you were training.

You were flat on your back in the middle of the room, mats on the floor to cushion any falls, and Alan was on top of you. He was straddling you, his knees astride your hips, his hands on your throat, holding you down. Your hands were on his chest, face twisted into a snarl as you shoved at him but the man was bigger than you, stronger than you and Joel had to stop him.

He ran for you with a roar, tucking his shoulder and slamming into the other man, the mats on the ground cushioning their fall as they tumbled.

“What the fuck!” Alan yelled as they came to a stop, Joel shoving the other man into the ground and pinning him.

“Joel!” You yelled but he was focused on the man below him.

“I don’t know what -“ Alan began but Joel cut him off with a punch, sharp against the man’s cheek, sending his head whipping around.

“Joel!” You caught his elbow as he went to punch again and he let you pull him back, Alan groaning on the floor. You tugged Joel to his feet and he panted for breath, looking down at the man who’d been hurting you, the man who he wanted to hurt more. But, for now, he wasn’t going anywhere and Joel turned his attention to you.

Your eyes were wide, your skin slick with sweat and your hand had gone from the crook of his arm to his side when he turned and the weight of your palm was heavy on him. But you were alive. He could breathe.

“Joel…” you panted, almost like a question. His hand went to your cheek, your skin warm. He tilted your head gently, looking over your neck, trying to see any damage.

“He hurt you?” He asked, voice rough. “You OK?”

“What?” You asked, gaping at him.

“Did he hurt you,” he said again.

“No!” You shook yourself free of Joel’s hold on you. “No, he didn’t hurt me! It was fucking fight choreography!”

You ducked around Joel and rushed toward Alan, kneeling beside him as he sat up, holding his face and adjusting his jaw.

“Fuck,” Joel said quietly, wincing as he watched you gingerly examine the other man, the two of you talking low, your back to Joel the whole time.

He should be more embarrassed about this and part of him was but he couldn’t help but just be relieved. You were safe. He didn’t need to see you hurting, didn’t need to live in that shock of fear that had all but swallowed him when he saw you on the ground, your life in the hands of another man. You were alive, you were safe. That was all that mattered, he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about anything else.

After a minute, Alan looked ready to get up and Joel approached him cautiously, your trainer’s eyes narrowing at him.

“Sorry,” Joel said awkwardly, offering him his hand. “Didn’t know… Never had a job with an actress before…”

“S’alright,” he said before taking Joel’s hand. He pulled him to his feet and he cracked his neck. “I’ve taken worse hits but damn, man, you hit like a fucking hammer.”

Joel caught a glimpse of you rolling your eyes off to the side and he smirked a little.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “Might be your job to make it look good, it’s my job to knock someone on their ass and keep ‘em there.”

“You’re damn good at it,” he said before turning to you. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to say we call it early.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “Again, I’m so sorry, I…”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, laughing a little. “Does me good to take a hit now and then in my line of work. You should be more than prepped for the shots they want to get later this week but I’ll be in LA if you run into any issues. Now I’m going to head back to my hotel to ice my face and try to think of the best way to explain this to my wife when she picks me up from the airport.”

“We need to go, anyway,” Joel said and you frowned. “Got a text from Tommy, told to bring you to HQ as soon as possible so that’s where we’re headed.”

“Fine,” you sighed, exasperated. “Let’s just run home first so I can change…”

“No,” he cut you off. “We’re going straight there.”

“But I’m disgusting!” You said, arms out at your sides as if to prove your point. “I’m not about to go to a meeting when I’m dripping sweat, that’s just…”

“Don’t matter,” Joel said.

“Is everything OK?” Alan asked, looking between the two of you.

You answered before Joel got a chance to respond.

“It’s fine,” you said, shooting Joel a look that almost dared him to talk. “He just loves to make my life difficult, it’s his favorite hobby, so he’s using this as an excuse.”

Joel quirked his jaw but bit his tongue.

“Come on, Siren,” he said. “Let’s go.”

He watched as you stalked off to get your bag and water bottle, snatching them up with an almost comically angry look on your face as you did. He made you stay behind him while he surveyed the small parking lot before keeping you safely hidden from view from as much of the broader world as he could until he got you to the car.

You reminded him of Ellie as he started the drive to the office, your arms crossed tight over your chest, staring straight ahead with your eyes narrowed. It would be intimidating if you were more… well, intimidating. On you it was almost comical, like watching a lion cub try and snarl at a threat.

“That was mortifying,” you said eventually, your fingers digging into your upper arms so hard that Joel could see the indentations in your flesh. “Completely fucking embarrassing, I can’t believe…”

“Can’t believe I did my job?” Joel asked. “Can’t believe I tried to keep you safe? Shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to you at this point, Siren, been doin’ this for a few months now.”

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped. “That was not you doing your fucking job, that was you losing your temper for who knows what reason and…”

“That was me intervening when you were in danger,” Joel snapped back. “How the hell was I supposed to know that guy was supposed to be fuckin’ choking you out? And you, what? Expect me to just sit there and let it happen? Jesus.”

“This is why I don’t need a fucking bodyguard,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Let alone one who doesn’t know the fucking industry. I fake die sometimes, too, Joel, you going to call 911? Plan my funeral?”

Joel ignored you, clenching his jaw as he called Tommy.

“Yeah,” Tommy said by way of greeting.

“One minute out,” Joel said.

“You’re gettin’ an escort in,” Tommy said.

Joel frowned.

“That serious?”

“We’ll discuss it when you get here,” Tommy said. “Just… being cautious.”

A team of four men met the car when Joel pulled up to the building where Tommy’s business was based. He passed the keys to one and fell into formation around you, immediately at your right as the four men surrounded you, blocking you from any view from passing or the random pedestrian.

“This is such overkill,” you muttered.

“Better over kill than you killed,” Joel glared at you as you rolled your eyes.

But Joel did feel like he could relax a little now that the two of you were in the office. This was a controlled space, you weren’t at risk here. You might be pissed at him but he’d take that. If you were safe, alive? Pissed he could handle.

Tommy seemed prepared for it, at least, not shaken by your sour attitude.

“Joel,” Tommy nodded to him before looking to you. “Ma’am.”

“You’ll have to excuse the fact that I smell like a gym sock,” you said, clearly pissed but trying to control yourself. “Someone didn’t let me shower or change before coming here.”

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Tommy said. “I got Quinn on the line, I’m gonna loop her into this conversation, too…”

He switched on the speaker phone.

“We’re all here now,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We OK to get started?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Lay things out.”

You frowned and glanced at Joel, as if he’d have any better idea about what this was going to be about than you did. He just frowned, too.

“This was sent to your address here in Austin,” Tommy said, dropping a printed image of a letter on the other side of his desk, closer to you and Joel. You stepped forward and picked it up, Joel looking over your shoulder at it. “Police have the original.”

It was a note, like the ones before.

I love your home. I can’t wait to share it with you. But why do you have other men spending the night? They won’t love you like I love you. Don’t you know that? Don’t you see?

If I can’t have you, no one will.

Joel’s hand trembled as he took the copy from you, tracing the words over and over.

If I can’t have you, no one will.

For a moment - just a moment - Joel had that vision of you again. The one that had come to his dreams more often than he cared to admit, the one where he couldn’t save you.

There was someone out there who wanted you, wanted you so badly they were willing to kill to have you and what if he couldn’t stop them? What if they got to you when he was off for a few days, what if something happened when you were just out of reach? What if all he could do was stand there and watch you die?

“Well someone’s getting ballsy, isn’t he?” You said wryly.

“You don’t sound like you’re taking this seriously,” Quinn said, the sharpness in her tone apparent even through the crackle of the speaker phone.

“Probably because I’m not,” you shrugged, crossing your arms over your torso, your chin raised defiantly. “He’s just some weirdo. He knew where I lived in LA, too, and was too cowardly to show his fucking face, what difference does it make if he’s got my Austin address?”

“We’re going to tighten up security,” Tommy said, looking around you to Joel.

“Tighten up?” You gaped at him before Joel had a chance to respond. “Tighten up how! Someone already follows me everywhere I go, is he supposed to, what, chase me into the bathroom when I take a piss now, too? This is insane! Quinn, tell them they’re insane!”

“It’s not insane,” Quinn said. “He’s escalating, there are valid concerns for your safety and we’re going to take the appropriate precautions. Maybe you should hear what those precautions are before you fly off the handle about it.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes before you sighed. “Fine. Alright, what else am I going to have to fucking give up.”

Joel’s jaw twitched but he remained silent, watching you closely as his brother started reviewing the changes.

“Biggest one will be you’re never on the exterior of your home alone,” Tommy said.

“I’m already never alone outside my house!” You gaped at him.

“You’re never alone when you leave your property,” Tommy corrected. “But you’ve been able to go outside, swim, run, take a walk on your own as long as you stayed on your property. That will no longer be the case.”

“Seriously?” You looked between Tommy and Joel, aghast. “I can’t step outside my own front door unsupervised? What am I, a toddler?”

“We will also be stepping up who is on hand at your home,” Tommy said, ignoring your protests. “We’ll be doing more frequent perimeter checks and generally have a more active presence there. But that will be less obtrusive, you will still have just one body man when you leave the property for most outings.”

“What about when I’m in LA?” You asked.

“You ain’t serious,” Joel said before Tommy had a chance to answer. “You’re not still goin’ to fucking California, not after that letter.”

“Yes, I am,” you said. “I have to do some early shots in two days, the con is a week after that, followed by…”

“And you can’t do any of it if you’re fuckin’ dead!” Joel snapped. “So you’re staying here, not goin’ to where that asshole is!”

“No, she’s not,” Quinn said, a sense of finality in her voice. “She’s going to LA…”

“You really willing to put her fucking life on the line for a goddamn movie?” Joel snapped, louder than he’d meant to but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. “You’re gonna let her get hurt, get killed so you assholes can make a few bucks?”

“She won’t be at risk if…”

“Not at risk?” Joel cut Quinn off. “If she ain’t at risk then why am I here!”

“She is actually in the fucking room if you assholes would fucking listen to her!” You yelled, Joel turning to face you, shocked. He didn’t think he’d ever heard you yell like that before. “I’m going to LA.”

Joel went to protest but you wouldn’t let him.

“No!” You snapped, rounding on him. “I’m going to LA! I’m going to LA, I’m going to do my fucking job and I’m going to go to the con and the goddamn movie premiere and then I’m going to come home and spend Christmas with my niece and you’re going to stay out of my fucking way!”

“Well that’s where you’re wrong,” Quinn said.

“What?” You asked, still sounding pissed but not yelling now.

“He won’t be out of your way,” Quinn said wryly. “Because he’s coming with you to everything.”

“Well obviously,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He’s been doing that.”

“I mean,” Quinn continued. “He’s going to come with you to the premiere. As your date.”

You and Joel both stood silently for a moment, dumbstruck.

“What,” Joel said eventually.

“You’re going to the premiere as her date,” Tommy said this time, looking between the two of you. “They decided they need you there,” he said, nodding to you. “And last one was enough of an opening that you got hurt but having you walk the red carpet with a bodyguard isn’t really an option. So, we keep Joel close - as your date - and he keeps you safe.”

“No,” Joel shook his head. “No, the answer is she don’t go to the damn premiere, not sending me along with her like I’m some kind of goddamn undercover agent or some shit, this ain’t…”

“Can’t I just go with Chris or Justice or something?” You asked and Joel tried to ignore how his stomach turned at the thought of you with either of those fucking guys on your arm. “We just tell them what’s going on and…”

“Someone who isn’t trained ain’t gonna cut it,” Tommy shook his head. “It has to be Joel.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Fine,” you said. “If that’s what it takes? Fine.”

“This is a bad fuckin’ idea,” Joel muttered. “I don’t…”

“Oh, come on Big Miller,” you said, your tone shifting to something more familiar, that dry, sarcastic edge to it he’d come to know well. “Didn’t you know? I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. There are men who would kill to be in your shoes.”

“Yeah,” Joel muttered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He didn’t press the subject when the two of you got back to your house that night, the new cadence of protection already kicking in, more guards obvious at the perimeter of your property. You didn’t wait for Joel to open the car door for you - something you’d become more willing to do as time had passed. Instead you just stormed off toward the house, Joel following quickly behind you. Before he had the chance to lecture you about it, you looked back over your shoulder to him.

“I’m going in the pool,” you snapped. “Since you apparently have to fucking babysit me anytime I step foot out my goddamn door now.”

He expected you to go get changed into a swimsuit but you didn’t. Instead you just stalked straight through the entry way, the living room, out the back of the house, stepping out of your shoes as went, walking straight to the water’s edge without pausing and jumping in fully clothed.

Joel stood and watched, worried for a moment when you didn’t surface immediately. But then you screamed under the water, the sound muffled and distorted and sounding almost desperate. You went quiet and surfaced, immediately going to a ladder and pulling yourself up, more stalking toward the house than walking, eyes straight ahead like Joel wasn’t even there, leaving a trail of water on the floor in your wake as you went to your bedroom and closed the door.

Joel tried to ignore the tug of concern in his chest. He picked up Ellie from school - the kid so excited about having a few days off for Thanksgiving and seeing her grandmother - and played a video game with her. You didn’t come out of your room. He kept hoping to hear some sign of you when he went to his own room, even as he was desperate for some distance, and he thought he heard you come out at one point. Just your quiet steps in bare feet and the cadence of talking just out of reach of where really hear it.

He tried to let that soothe him. You clearly didn’t want anything to do with him - not that he blamed you, he had literally asked for this - but he couldn’t help but worry as he stared at his ceiling. You were upset but you’d left your room, talked to Ellie, hopefully eaten something. That was… it was fine. Good, even. He didn’t need to be a part of it or see it for himself and he’d done everything he could to make sure that here, within these walls, you were safe.

That thought didn’t help him actually, really rest, though. He started to drift off and the image of you, pinned down with a man’s hands around your throat took over. But this time, he was always too far away to fix it. He’d run and run and run but it was like he was moving through Jell-o, not able to reach you but not able to look away.

He jerked awake, his heart racing in his chest, and he sighed, wiping a layer of sweat away from his face.

It was late now, quiet in the house. He debated it, for a moment, but not for long, getting up and going to the kitchen for a drink. But when he passed the hall with your room and office, he saw a soft glow around your office door. He frowned at that, going to the kitchen and grabbing two beers before going to that glowing door. He hesitated for a moment. He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew better. He was the one who asked for a professional distance, he was the one who knew this couldn’t go anywhere good. But… you were right there, the comfort of knowing you were OK so close.

He knocked.

You were silent for a moment, long enough that he considered just going back to his room when you spoke.

“Come in.”

He did, finding you tucked into a corner of the couch that sat below the window, a tablet and papers spread on every surface around you. You seemed almost surprised to see him, your eyebrows rising as you looked at him through your lashes, not fully looking up from something that was sitting open on your lap.

“I thought you might be Ellie,” you said. “Can I help you?”

He shrugged.

“Saw the light,” he said, handing you the bottle, staying far enough away from you that he had to stretch to reach and you had to reach back to take it. “Thought you might… I dunno.”

You nodded slowly, opening the beer and taking long pull.

“Thanks,” you said, adjusting enough that the pages spread on the couch around you rustled. Joel just nodded, opening his own beer and taking a sip, too. He didn’t taste it much, one hand shoved in the pocket of his pajama pants as he walked slowly through your office, taking everything in. He was rarely in this room, he didn’t know it well. There was an Emmy on your desk and three more on a bookshelf. There were two Golden Globes, too, all in better shape than the Oscar was. He frowned at that.

“How many of these damn things do you have?” He asked, glancing back over his shoulder to you.

“Emmys?” You asked. “Just the four. Three for Siren and then one for Family Tree. That was my first one, they gave me some meatier things once I was in my teens. Some ‘very special episode’ type bullshit. One where I had to decide whether or not to have sex with my high school boyfriend, that sort of thing. The television academy ate it up. Then there are the Globes - one for Siren, one for The District - and there’s a SAG in my office in LA. I think that’s it.”

“Lot of hardware,” Joel said, coming back to the sitting area of your office, taking the chair near your end of the couch, his fingers rapping against the glass of his beer bottle.

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, a little cynically. “I keep telling Leo he needs to get me on Broadway so I can win a Tony. Then all I need is some bullshit way to win a Grammy and I can EGOT.”

“EGOT?” Joel frowned.

“Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony,” you said. “All the big ones.”

“Shit,” he shook his head a little, taking another swig of beer. “Aim high, I guess. What are you workin’ on?”

“Character research,” you said, holding up what was on your lap. It was a comic book, one from the series he’d seen Ellie reading. “I think I’ve just about figured her out but I’m trying to make sure I feel good with it before Friday. I’ve been reading up on how people react to certain traumas, trying to fold that in, see what seems right.”

“Didn’t know playin’ a superhero needed so much research,” he said.

“Playing anyone requires research,” you said. “People are complicated things.”

“Suppose so,” he said. “What…”

“Why are you here, Joel,” you cut him off.

He clenched his jaw for a moment.

“I…” he took a deep breath. “Do you really have to go to LA.”

“Are you serious?” You gaped at him.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s not safe. Should stay here where we have shit more locked down and…”

“And I have a movie to make!” You cut him off. “Do you really expect them to relocate production to fucking Texas because of me?”

“Yes,” he said again.

“Joel,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

“Ain’t you some huge star?” He pressed on, staring down at his beer bottle, picking at the label with his thumb. “Got all those damn trophies, everyone on the damn planet knows your name, just have all that shit come to you and…”

“Joel,” you said, more gently this time, gentle enough that he frowned, looking over at you. You smiled a little. “That’s not how it works.”

“Why not.”

“Because,” you said. “Do you know what goes into making a movie? It’s not just some actors and camera men. There’s equipment we’re using that only exists in a few places on the planet and LA is one of those places. We start principal photography in January, do you know how much work has already been done so we’re ready to shoot? Do you know how many people’s livelihoods depend on this movie being made when we said we were making it where we planned to make it? And I mean actual people, not just rich assholes like me. The budget on this movie is $210 million and yeah, $35 million of that is coming to me but the vast majority of that money is going to support the hundreds of people who work on the movie who are just trying to pay their mortgage and put their kids through college. We move locations, shift filming dates now? Those people are suddenly out of work when it’s too late to get on any other projects. If you don’t think you’re up for it, talk to Tommy, have them send someone else…”

“No,” he said sharply.

You frowned.

“Why not?” You asked. “Just…”

Joel clenched his jaw, looking down at the beer bottle again. The corner of the label was shredded.

“Don’t trust anyone else,” he said. “If you’re goin’ to LA, it’s with me. End of story.”

You were quiet for a moment.

“Why do you care so much?” You asked eventually.

“I… I don’t…” he bounced his leg, trying to find the words before finally looking over at you again. “I don’t want to watch you die.”

You scoffed.

“I don’t think anyone would really hold it against you if I do,” you said wryly. “So don’t worry about it.”

“That ain’t why I’m worried,” he said sharply before taking a deep breath and going back to the bottle, picking away at the label more and more. “I didn’t take this job to watch someone fuckin’ hunt you down.”

You were quiet again.

“Why did you hit Alan today.”

He took a shaky breath.

“I thought he was hurtin’ you,” he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. “And I.. I can’t…”

He clenched his jaw, gripping the bottle so tight it hurt.

“I need you to not get hurt,” he said. “Not gonna let you get yourself killed. And you… you just like to ignore what I tell you, you do reckless shit and it’s gonna…”

“I’ll do what I’m told,” you cut him off, a keen kind of honesty in your voice, the shift noticeable enough that he looked over at you. Your eyes were oddly open, looking at him in much the same way you had the night you got hurt at the premiere, like all the artifice of your public persona had been stripped away and all that was left was yourself. “I don’t… I absolutely loathe just how much of my own life is out of my control and how all I am is just some thing all these other people move around to make money and the fact that I can’t even go outside right now without someone babysitting me… It struck a nerve. But… I’ll behave. I’ll do what you tell me to do. I won’t take any risks, I’ll tell you everything you need to know, I’ll obey when you tell me to do something. I’ll take it seriously.”

He watched you for a moment.

“You’ll let me keep you safe?” He asked quietly.

“I’ll let you keep me safe,” you said softly. “I promise. Just come with me to LA. You… you make me feel safe. I’ll do what you say, I’ll let you protect me. I promise.”

“OK,” he nodded, looking at the label in pieces in his hands. “I’ll protect you.”

He just prayed that would be enough.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I know this took me roughly 6 million years to update and I wish I had a good reason for that but, in all honesty, I just don't. I appreciate you spending your time with these characters, even after I've left you hanging.

Things are going to start ramping up next chapter! I really can't wait for what's coming, there's stuff I've been picturing since I first thought up this story that is just around the corner. I hope you enjoy it!

In the mean time, if you want to see what Thanksgiving Day was like for Siren and Joel, you can check out this (now officially canon) one shot I posted for the holiday.

Thanks again for being here! I love sharing this story with you all.

Love you!!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter @phry-k @sunnytuliptime

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #bodyguard!joel #bodyguard au #tsats #the savage and the sanctuary

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wadewnstonwilson · 2 days ago

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do you want to play a game?

summary: Wade Wilson (Deadpool) finds himself strapped to a sadistic torture chair in a room filled with gruesome contraptions, yet he remains gleefully sarcastic, much to the frustration of Jigsaw's ominous puppet.

word count: 1.6k

trigger warnings: violence, gore, torture, body horror

authors note: this was a headcanon idea someone posted a while back and asked to have a fic written about it, if it was you please let me know so I can properly tag you!

The room was dimly lit, a mixture of cold steel and rusted iron making up its gruesome decor. Wade Wilson, the infamous Deadpool, sat in the center of the room strapped to a chair, surrounded by a series of sadistic contraptions clearly meant to inspire terror. For most people, this would be the worst day of their lives. But Wade? Wade was thrilled.

“Well, hello, Mr. Saw!” Wade chirped with all the enthusiasm of a kid meeting their favorite mascot at Disneyland. His voice echoed through the dimly lit, blood-streaked room, cutting through the oppressive silence like a hot knife through butter. Strapped securely to a steel chair, Wade looked more like a man sitting in for a casual dental cleaning than someone caught in the clutches of a notorious serial killer.

The room smelled of rust and mildew, the air thick with the metallic tang of dried blood. Around him were a variety of deadly contraptions: gears, blades, and wires all meticulously arranged in a manner that suggested their designer had spent a bit too much time watching home renovation shows. Wade wasn’t scared. If anything, he was curious.

He squinted at the giant monitor flickering to life before him. The screen revealed the infamous Jigsaw puppet, its soulless eyes staring back at him with what Wade could only interpret as disapproval. “Okay, seriously,” Wade continued, completely ignoring the ominous vibe, “do you get these machines wholesale, or are they custom jobs? Because I gotta tell ya, the craftsmanship here? Chef’s kiss.”

The puppet’s expression remained unchanged, its head tilting slightly as if processing Wade’s commentary.

“I mean,” Wade went on, craning his neck as much as his restraints would allow, “are those hand-welded joints? No, really, this is top-tier work. I’ve seen Avengers tech, and honestly? Kinda mid compared to this. Do you have a Pinterest board for inspiration? Or do you just wing it?”

The puppet’s voice crackled through the speaker, distorted and menacing. “I want to play a game.”

“Oh! Oh!” Wade exclaimed, practically vibrating in his seat with excitement. “Twister? Monopoly? No wait, let me guess—Candyland! I love Candyland. Can I be the gumdrop guy? No one ever lets me be the gumdrop guy.”

The puppet’s eye twitched. Or, at least, Wade imagined it did. “Your constant need for validation and unrelenting irreverence have landed you here. If you do not escape this trap in time, your body will be—”

“—ripped apart, blood everywhere, yadda yadda, we get it. You really need a new schtick, Jiggy. I mean, what’s next, making me choose between tacos and chimichangas? Ha! Joke’s on you—I don’t choose. Ever.”

A metallic whir sounded as the trap sprung into action. Sharp blades inched closer to Wade’s arms, clearly designed to slice them off unless he solved the contraption before him.

“Neat,” Wade muttered, leaning as far as the straps allowed to get a closer look. “Do these things come in red?”

------

Logan Howlett prowled through the shadow-choked labyrinth of the abandoned city district, his boots crunching softly against the cracked pavement. The air was thick with the stench of mildew, rotting wood, and despair—an oppressive cocktail that clung to his heightened senses like oil on water. Neon lights flickered weakly from the occasional shattered sign, casting brief, eerie glows across graffitied walls and broken windows. This place had been dead for years, left to fester in its decay.

It was the kind of place Wade Wilson would love.

That thought made Logan’s scowl deepen, his jaw tightening as his claws slid out of his knuckles with a soft snikt. The silver blades glinted faintly in the dim light, their familiar weight offering a grim reassurance. Wade hadn’t answered a single one of Logan’s calls in days. Normally, that would’ve been a welcome reprieve—Logan wasn’t exactly the type to miss Wade’s incessant jokes or ceaseless chatter. But this time, something was off. Wade didn’t just not show up. The guy was like a damn cockroach, always turning up where you least expected him, unkillable and annoying as hell. For him to go silent? That meant trouble.

“Where the hell are ya, Wilson?” Logan growled under his breath, his gravelly voice swallowed by the shadows around him.

He came to a halt, sniffing the air. His hyper-sensitive nose twitched as he sifted through the various odors polluting the area—garbage, oil, rat droppings, the faint tang of rusted metal. And then he caught it, faint but distinct: the unmistakable scent of blood. Not just any blood. Wade’s.

Logan’s teeth clenched as he closed his eyes and inhaled again, isolating the scent. It was there, mixed with sweat and... something else. Fear? No. Wade didn’t do fear. It was exhaustion. Pain. The kind of pain that would kill a lesser man ten times over.

His claws slid back into his hands as he moved, quick and silent, through the maze of alleys. The scent grew stronger, more focused, leading him deeper into the heart of the district. He passed crumbling buildings with boarded-up windows, their skeletal remains groaning in protest against the night wind. A flicker of movement caught his eye—a rat scurrying across his path—but he ignored it. His focus was razor-sharp now, his instincts taking over as he tracked the trail.

The scent led him to a narrow alley that terminated in a massive steel door. It was dented and rusted, the kind of industrial barrier that screamed bad news. A faint smear of blood marked the handle, barely visible in the dim light, but Logan’s eyes caught it immediately. He placed a hand on the door, pausing for a moment to listen. His sharp hearing picked up the hum of machinery inside, accompanied by faint, muffled voices. Or maybe just one voice.

“Wilson,” Logan muttered, his voice a low rumble. His claws unsheathed again, a primal response to the growing anger roiling in his gut. He pushed the door, and it gave slightly under his strength, creaking open just enough to let him slip inside.

The interior was worse than he expected. It was a labyrinth of machinery and steel, a factory of nightmares brought to life. Gears turned noisily, chains rattled, and the faint smell of burnt metal stung his nose. The walls were lined with grotesque contraptions, each one a testament to the sadistic mind that had designed them. But Logan barely registered the horror of the place. His focus was on one thing—the idiot who’d managed to get himself into this mess.

Wade’s scent was stronger now, the blood fresher. Logan followed it through the maze of corridors, his movements a combination of raw instinct and calculated precision. Every muscle in his body was coiled, ready to strike. He rounded a corner, his sharp hearing picking up something new—laughter. Muffled, but undeniably familiar. It was Wade’s laugh, laced with exhaustion and a little bit of hysteria.

“Son of a—” Logan bit off the curse as he quickened his pace.

The sound of his boots on the grated floor echoed faintly, but he didn’t care about stealth anymore. He could feel the beast inside him clawing at the edges of his control, the primal part of him that wanted to tear through whatever or whoever had put Wade in this situation. The scent was nearly overwhelming now, and as he rounded another corner, the sight before him stopped him cold.

There was Wade, suspended in the middle of the room by a series of chains and straps. His suit was torn to shreds, revealing patches of raw, bloodied skin that glistened under the harsh, flickering lights. A grotesque contraption of blades and gears hovered dangerously close to his body, clearly designed to inflict as much pain as possible without delivering a killing blow. Not that Wade would die, of course. That was the point, wasn’t it? Keep him alive. Make him suffer.

And yet, despite the carnage, Wade’s maskless face split into a wide, bloody grin the moment he saw Logan.

“Logie-bear!” Wade called out, his voice hoarse but still infuriatingly cheerful. He waved weakly, his hand slick with blood. “You found me! Took you long enough, you big, hairy softie.”

Logan’s growl was low and guttural, his claws snapping out with a metallic snikt as his gaze swept over the room. His chest heaved with barely contained rage, the feral side of him threatening to take over. He took one step closer, his amber eyes locked on Wade.

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Logan snarled.

“And you’re a goddamn knight in shining adamantium,” Wade shot back, coughing slightly but still managing to sound insufferable. “Now, how about you get me down from here before I lose more blood? Not that I’m complaining—I mean, it’s great for weight loss, but—”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Logan snapped, but his claws were already slicing through the chains holding Wade. He caught the mercenary as he fell, holding him awkwardly but securely.

“Aw, you do care,” Wade muttered, resting his head against Logan’s shoulder.

Logan didn’t respond. He was too busy glaring at the room, silently daring anything—or anyone—to try stopping them. The beast inside him wasn’t done yet, but for now, it could wait. First, he needed to get Wade out of here. Then, he’d deal with the bastard responsible for this.

“Let’s go,” Logan growled, carrying Wade toward the exit.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Wade murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion but still managing to be as annoying as ever.

Logan sighed. “I should’ve left you in the chair.”

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lanarey21 · 2 days ago

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take all my love !

pairing — Zayne x Fem reader

summary — You and zayne had planned to go out after his shift. You were tired since he had kept you up last night, but it’s fine. You went to pick him up anyways, but he didn’t show on time and you accidentally fell asleep.

warnings — Smut, mature language, pet names (darling + honey), oral fem!receiving, unprotected sex, fluffy aftercare.

“baby, when we touch (when we touch) feels like you were meant to take all my love”

word count — 3,423

A/N — I genuinely don’t know how to feel about this, but it’s my first post in a while, so I hope you enjoy!

masterlist

I checked my appearance in the mirror, smoothing out the tight fitted dress Zayne had picked out for me a while back. The dress was a dark blue color, which he loves, and it accentuated me in all the right places. I smiled in the mirror before getting my stuff and heading out.

I got into the car, yawning. I rolled my eyes at myself. I had been pretty tired all day due to being up all night, but I truly have only Zayne to blame for that one. My face flushes as I recall last nights events. I shake my head and start the car.

The hospital isn’t far from our shared apartment, so after about five minutes I pull into the parking lot. I find a parking space and look around, the lot mostly empty.

I keep my eye on the time, it now being 10:07. It’s not unusual for him to be late, but I’ll text him just incase. I pull out my phone and bring up his contact.

Big Snowman ⛄️

Hey, I’m outside? Where are you?

delivered

I sigh and put my phone down, turning on the heat in the car to keep me warm as I lay my head back against the headrest. I cross my arms and feel my eyelids get heavy. Reluctantly, my eyes flutter shut and I become enveloped by the comforting darkness.

I realize I’ve drifted off into sleep and I accept it, being asleep for what feels like hours.

౨ৎ

“Y/N?” The voice is muffled and my eyebrows furrow. I still don’t wake up, assuming I’m dreaming.

Knock, knock, knock.

I peel my eyes open slightly after the noise filling my ears sounds quite realistic. I look in the direction of the knocks and see a figure right by my window. Normally, I’d jump, but I know who it is and it instantly brings a smile to my face.

I’m a little delirious from sleep still, but I notice it’s raining now, the drops peacefully hitting the roof of the car.

I rub my eyes and I open the door, not making him wait any longer. My eyes rake over him before looking into his eyes.

Zayne is stripped of his lab coat, just wearing his casual button up and a tie, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is a little disheveled and wet due to the rain, which I made him stand in.

“Zayne? What time is it?” I question. My voice is raspy almost quiet from the sleep.

He chuckles, “It’s 12:56.” He answers before continuing, “I was surprised to see you still out here, did you fall asleep?” He pops his head into the car to stop the rain from falling on him. His hand is on the headrest to steady him as he looks at me.

I look away as if I’ve been caught, “Yeah.. I couldn’t help it, I was tired—“ I pause, “Wait.. did you say it was 12:56? I slept for almost three hours?” I mutter the last part more so to myself. My eyes snaps back to his, “What happened? I thought you were getting off at ten?”

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it, if you’re tired we should get you home.” He suggests, “Let me drive.”

Only when I can feel his breath fanning against my face do I register how close his is to me. I look between his soft eyes, “It’s.. no it’s okay.. I can get us home.” I insist, only my body failing me by making me yawn.

A slight smile forms on his face as he presses the buttons to unlock the passengers side. I watch him do this before feeling his arms slide under my knees and the middle of my back.

I look at him confused before I’m being lifted up out of the car bridal style. I instantly latch my arms around his neck. I keep my eyes on him while he walks me to the other side of the car. I can feel the rain hitting my exposed skin.

Once he finally gets me into the passengers side, he reaches over me and buckles me in. “I can do that myself, y’know.” I look at him and he presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I know.” He pulls away before shutting the door. I sink into the seat, waiting for him to get in on the other side.

I turn my head towards the drivers side, seeing him get into the car with a sigh.

He starts the car and after a moment of silence, he speaks up, “I didn’t mean to take that long.” He glances at me, “You were all ready for our date, and I didn’t even show.”

I watch as he speaks, “It’s okay. I needed the sleep anyway.” I answer, not wanting him to feel bad about doing his job. “What happened though?”

He takes a deep breath, seeming a little tense. “A little boy was rushed in just as I was about to get off.. and he needed to undergo surgery as soon as possible.”

“Oh.. did he make it?” I ask, the question gnawing at me.

“He did.” Zayne pauses, “I had to stay and monitor to make sure all was well after the procedure.” He moves his free hand to my thigh sweetly, “I’m sorry I made you wait out there.”

I put my hand over his and glance up at almost empty streets, barely any other cars. I look back at him, “Zayne.. it’s okay. I get to see you everyday, I’m fine.” I smile and I can see one tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m glad you saved someone.”

He glances at me before pulling into the driveway. We get out and make it up to our apartment. When we’re finally inside I walk to the kitchen and put my purse I had taken with me on the island.

I stand in front of the counter, checking my phone and letting Zayne do his thing when I suddenly feel a pair of hands on my hips. They trace up to my waist before the arms belonging to the hands wrap around me completely.

I chuckle and put my phone down, surprised by the affection. I move my own hands over his, “Are you hungry?” I turn my head to the side to see him just a smidge.

I can hear his quiet hum by my ear, “A little.” He answers, “You look gorgeous in this dress by the way.” He places a comforting kiss on my shoulder, his arms still around me.

I feel my face flush, “Thank you..” I look forward, and feel him trail his kisses up to the crook of my neck.

“I missed you all day,” he mumbles against my skin. I take one of my hands away, grabbing the edge counter.

I take a deep breath, “Zayne..” I mutter and I feel his lips pull away from my neck.

“Sorry, I’m getting carried away, aren’t I?” He pulls back and his hands rake up my sides.

“No, no.. it’s.. it’s all right.” I say, sounding a little out of breath already.

His hands reluctantly pull away from me, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” He speaks, changing the subject.

“Okay.” I comply and his hand moves to mine before he starts walking in the direction of our bedroom. I follow him, my heels clicking against our marble floors.

When we’re far enough into the room, he shuts the door behind us. I watch his movements carefully.

I sit down on the bed, my legs dangling off the side. He walks over to me, looming over my frame. We look at each other in silence for a moment before his gaze moves down. He reaches out for my leg, his hand slowly going from my thigh all the way to my ankle.

While his hand is cupping my ankle, his free hand messes with the straps of my heels, pulling the shoe off my foot. His touch lingers on my leg for a minute before he moves to the other one, “Darling, are you still tired?”

I look away, easily flustered at the use of a pet name. The way his voice is low too, which only makes it sound better. He removes my other shoe, but he’s still waiting for an answer, which I’ve forgotten about.

He moves himself to stand between my legs. He gently puts his palm on the side of my face to get me to look back at him, “Hm?” He hums, bringing me back to his previous question.

My gaze meets his once more. I shake my head at him to signal a no. I can practically see the way his eyes darken as he trails his hand from my face down to my sides again. Zayne leans into my neck, placing kisses on the warm skin.

I tilt my head back to give him better access as I let out a sigh. His lips disconnect, moving to my ear before a familiar voice speaks, “Be a good girl and use your words.”

Just as he says that, it’s like my throat dries up. My lips part, but nothing comes out. I try again, muttering out a sentence, “No.. no I’m not tired anymore.”

I can practically feel the slight smirk on his lips at my obedience. He kisses along my jaw before pulling away just enough to look at me, “You’re free tomorrow, yes?”

I look up at him, moving a hand up to his face before moving it down to his neck. His free hand snaps to my wrist, “Hands off, darling. Answer my question.”

He moves my hand away, “Yes.. I am, why?” I question, keeping my hands on the sheets of the bed.

“Cause..” He pauses, his lips inches from mine, “You might not get much sleep tonight either.” He tells me before planting his lips on mine.

His hands find my wrists, pinning them above my head as my back falls flat on the bed. His body is pressed against mine, our mouths moving in sync.

I can’t suppress the whine that slips into the kiss. I wrap my legs around his hips while he keeps my hands above my head with one hand, the other sliding down my body.

His hand roaming my body lands on the curve of my breast, he massages it before breaking the kiss, leaving me helpless and desperate. I can feel the tent in his pants pressing against my inner thigh, just as needy as me.

“Zayne..” I mutter, staring at the ceiling as I catch my breath.

I can hear the clink of metal from his belt, his hand no longer on my breast. I quickly look up, seeing him reach over my head before using his belt to confine my wrists together.

“Does that hurt?” He asks, being sure.

He does this sometimes, where he tries to be rough or a little out of character, but deep down, he’s always gentle. “No.” I answer, looking into his wandering eyes.

He leans down to press a peck to my lips before pulling away again. He reaches under me, to my back and unzips the dress. After the dress is unzipped he reaches to my front and pulls in off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

I squirm on the bed, feeling the aching sensation in my lower half, “Zayne.. I need you, please.” I beg automatically.

He chuckled lowly, barely audible, “Just hold on for me, okay honey?” He reached around me, unclasping my bra. I was wearing a matching black lacy set, which I know is his favorite.

When he finally managed to rid the fabric from my body, his hands instantly moved to my breasts. I threw my head back into the mattress as he lowered his head to pepper kisses over one, massaging the other.

I let out a breathily moan, wanting to put my hands in his hair, but unable to with my confines. “Zayne.. please.” I plead again, feeling him move to give the other breast the same attention.

I writhe beneath him, my cunt is dripping for him, making a wet patch form on my panties.

He moves his kisses down my stomach until he makes it to the waistband of my underwear. I pant, looking down to watch him sink to his knees in front of me and wrap his arms around my thighs before yanking me down to the absolute edge of the bed.

I yelp slightly, staring back at the ceiling. My skin heats up with every kiss he starts spreading across my inner thighs.

I huff in frustration purely from need. He’s surly taking his time with me.

Eventually his fingers hook under the hem of my panties, tugging them down in excruciatingly slow pace. Once they’re off, he hooks his arms around my thighs again and uses that to spread my legs far apart. The feeling of his breath fanning against my sensitive core makes me shiver.

I can’t move my legs with the grip he has on them. I gasp, my back inevitably arching off the bed when his tongue darts out to lick at my clit.

It started off slow before he completely attached his lips to me, sucking and lapping at the sensitive bud. I moaned, unable to do anything but accept the pleasure he was giving to me.

After a little bit, he moved one of his arms away from my thighs and positioned it in front of my soaked pussy. He slowly pushed two digits into me. “Z—Zayne.. oh my god.”

I cried out as he pulled them out just a bit only to plunge them back inside. I bit down on my bottom lip, whines still slipping through.

Soon enough, I could feel the pressure in my abdomen, ready to snap. It didn’t help when his fingers curled upwards, my walls clenching around him.

I couldn’t see it, but he looked up at me, quickening the pace of his tongue and fingers, knowing I was right on edge.

I couldn’t get a single sentence out either, choking on my sounds. I let out a final moan before my back arched up further, my hips stuttering as I came around his fingers.

He continued his motions through my orgasm before pulling himself away from me and pulling his fingers out.

I panted heavily, getting over my high before I leaned upwards, looking at him while he’s still between my legs. I shot him a confused look before he brought his fingers to his lips, removing the mess I had made from them.

I swallowed thickly, “Seriously?” I muttered, embarrassed.

“What? Can’t enjoy how my girlfriend tastes?” He teases, kissing my inner thigh before letting go of my shaking legs and standing up.

I look away at how easily he said that, “Do you just say anything?” I huff playfully, obviously not actually annoyed with him.

Zayne leans over me again, face to face with me like before. He presses a quick peck to my lips and I can almost taste myself on him. “Only the truth,” he chuckles softly.

I roll my eyes with a smile on my face. I watch him as he pulls back, “Are you okay to continue?” He asks reassuringly.

I nod, but remember what he did the last time I didn’t use my words, “Yes.. I’m okay.” I answer.

As soon as I utter those words he’s unzipping his pants and pushing them off, along with his boxers. After that he starts unbuttoning his shirt, leaving it wide open, pretty much falling down his arms.

My eyes are glued to his every move, watching the way his dick springs up after being released from its confines. My heart races faster and his gaze meets mine, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I promise, I’m okay to keep going.” I reply. Whatever was holding him back before is long gone. He moves me to the center of the bed and he lines himself up with me.

I whine at his teasing movements, sliding his tip between my folds before pushing forward. He lets out a breathy groan, my walls engulfing him.

I look into his eyes as he swings my legs over his shoulders, putting me in a mating press. I gasp, feeling him bottom out, hitting me with all the right angles. “Zayne..”

He lowers himself, kissing along my jaw as he mutters against my skin, “I know. You’re alright darling.” He huffs, starting to move his hips slowly, “Do you have any idea of the things you do to me?” His voice is husky and he groans softly again, hitting my cervix.

I stutter, moaning and whining as he picks up his pace, his length reaching every spot. “Fuck,” he moans, unable to keep his motions contained, going faster.

My head, thrown back, digs into the pillows while Zayne’s hands roam over my body, not letting any part of me go untouched.

We look into each other’s eyes, moaning and panting, our faces contorted in pleasure. He looks down for a moment, moving his thumb to rub my clit. When he looks back up at me I gasp, my cunt squeezing him again as my legs start to shake.

“You close, hm?” He grunts, not too far from the edge as well with the way his hips stutter.

My mouth is slacked open, eliciting sounds with every thrust. “Yes.. yes, I’m gonna.. gonna come, Zayne.” I mutter, his finger rubbing faster.

He smirks slightly, watching me come undone around his cock. My whole body quivers, my walls pulsing around him. Just as I come down I gasp, feeling a warmth spread through me followed with a groan above me.

Zayne’s body tenses and we’re both panting, collecting ourselves. His movements are no more. My hands are holding each other, still trapped. “Did you just..” I start, trailing off.

He looks back at me, his hands on either side of my face to keep himself up. “Fuck, I’m sorry darling, I couldn’t stop myself.” He explains, moving a hand to the side of my face, using his thumb to caress my cheek. “I’ll pick you up something from the pharmacy in the morning.”

“It’s okay, really.” I smile at him, my eyes still in a haze from my previous orgasm.

He leans down and plants a long, affectionate kiss to my lips, his hand still on my face.

I kiss him back passionately, allowing his tongue to slip into my mouth.

After what feels like forever he pulls away. I take deep breath, our faces still inches from each other. He sits up, grabbing my hands and taking the belt off, throwing it to the side as he grips my wrists.

Zayne looks at me before placing little kisses on my inner wrists. My heart flutters at the sight. He places a few more kisses then rubs my wrists gently, “I’m gonna take care of you alright?”

I look into his soft gaze, a smile still on my face. “I love you, you know that?” If he couldn’t see the smile on my face, he could definitely hear it in my voice.

“I know, honey. I love you too.” He say before letting go of my wrists and pulling out. He gets off the bed and walks to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth.

I sit up on the bed as he comes back and wipes between my thighs gently. He makes sure he cleans up everything before putting the cloth away.

He slips on his own boxers before getting me a fresh pair of panties, coming back over to me to slide them on me.

Once things are cleaned up and put away, we’re getting ready for bed, getting comfortable. “Do you have to work tomorrow?” I ask him as he puts one of his shirts on me.

“As far as I know, I’ve got tomorrow off, which is fairly surprising.” He responds, wrapping his arms around me as we lay down. His front is pressed up against my back, his nose brushing against my neck.

I stare at the wall, my hands placed on his. “Could we make up for our date tomorrow then?”

“Of course we can.” He pecks the crook of my neck with love, “Now go to sleep, we can’t go on a date if you’re sleeping the whole time.”

𝜗𝜚 — taglist

@luvfuyuka

#zayne love and deepspace #dr zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace #zayne x reader smut #fluff #zayne fluff #zayne love and deepspace fluff #lanarey21 #smut

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rangosmango7 · 2 days ago

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The Cadence of Part-time Poets by @motswolo

Can I just say I don’t think I’ll ever read anything better and I might have to give up fanfiction as a whole; Harry Potter/Marauders fanfiction, anyway, because I dont think I’ve ever read anything so gorgeous— it might be better than The Perks of Being a Wallflower; my favorite book that I’ve only ever read once out of fear that reading it again will push me off a ledge I couldn’t ever come back from.

I will reread The Cadence of Part-time Poets, because I don’t really care about the ledge I’ll get pushed off of— that’s how fucking brilliant it is.

Glorious.

Dramatic review? Maybe. But I’ve found that several people online have stated they stalled on reading the last two chapters because they didn’t want to finish reading it. I’ve never been one to keep myself from reading the ending of any story, especially one I love so much.

That being said, I’m on the last chapter before the epilogue, and I can’t bring myself to start it yet. Not until I stop crying about Remus Lupin and I don’t have work the next day.

I’ll update with an in-depth review (spoilers included) once I finish it, if I can ever bring myself to try to put everything I feel about this work into words.

Before reading, let me give you some advice if you’re like me and (understandably) hesitate before reading a near million-word fanfiction

1. Don’t read it until you’re ready to

It’s a monster. I put off reading it for a year or two and the timing never felt right until now. I couldn’t be more happy that I waited until it was right (it also took me an entire week and a half, which is long for me.

2. Don’t stress over not liking the OCs, because you will— Jesus F. Chopin, I promise you will love the OCs in this fic like nothing else.

Every lovely thing everyone said about Tomny and Tonya? True and wonderful and GLORIOUS I love them so much.

3. It isn’t going to be exactly what you expect it to be—

It’s going to be so much more.

@motswolo , thank you for this. I’m sure you get this all the time, but The Cadence of Part-time Poets touched my soul like nothing else. It made me smile and cry and it made me angry and lovesick and heartbroken and it made me feel understood.

I deal with bi-polar depression, and the way your Remus Lupin thinks makes me feel like I’m reading my own internal monologue. It has me crying and laughing and loving with him.

It revived my love for rock and roll, and Mary Macdonald understood my love for ABBA; Sirius Black, “Bohemian Rhapsody”. You understand my love of music.

I will update this post once I finish these last couple of chapters. For now, I leave you with this screenshot of the comments section that made me laugh.

(disclaimer, neither of the replies are true, but some may still consider this a spoiler, so tread lightly)

motswolo, you charmer, I think I’m half in love with you.

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t00tsmcgee · 2 days ago

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Rook as a Companion Banter Episode two: Bellara

Part 1 (Neve) | Part 2 of ?

Banter written with my Rook in mind <- Link to his own post if you want to read more about him!

Bellara: “You seem sad, Calais.” Calais: “Just Cal is fine, Bellara.” Bellara: “Oh, right. You seem sad, Cal.” Calais: “Yeah.” Bellara: “Is it because of everything that’s happening?” Calais: “It’s not the only reason, but it doesn’t help.” Bellara: “When I was sad Cyrian always asked me silly questions to cheer me up. Like, what happens if you get scared half to death twice?” Calais: “You know, he was on to something there.” Bellara: *chuckle*

Bellara: “Is it true cannibals don’t eat clowns because they taste funny?” Calais: *laughing* “Ugh!”

Calais: “Why aren’t blueberries blue?” Bellara: “They are! In a certain light anyway.” Calais: “Bella.” Bellara: “Oh, were you doing the silly question thing?” Calais: “Trying to anyway. Not very successfully judging by your reaction.” Bellara: “Yeah, still needs work. But you’ll get there.”

Calais: “Are the good things that come to those who wait the leftovers of those who didn’t wait?” Bellara: “Wow, that one’s deep.”

Calais: “If a fork was made of gold would it still be considered silverware?” Bellara: “I think you’d just call it cutlery.” Calais: “You’re really cramping my style.” Bellara: *laughing*

Calais: “Why does it take 10 minutes to cook rice?” Bellara: “Does it? I thought it took at least 15!” Lucanis: *disgusted noise* “This explains so much about that risotto you made the other day.”

Bellara: “Why is it called a pair of pants, when there’s only one bit of clothing involved?” Calais: “That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Calais: “I’m sorry about your brother, Bella.” Bellara: “Yeah, me too.” Calais: “We’ll find a way to help him. I know we will.” Bellara: “I hope you’re right.”

Calais: “If you tied buttered toast to a cat and dropped it, what would happen?” Bellara: “You’d never do that to a cat.” Calais: “No, you’re right. I’m just upset my buttered toast dropped this morning.” Bellara: “It was a heavy blow for us all.” Calais: “I might never recover.”

Bellara: “What was it like, growing up in the Necropolis?” Calais: “It was idyllic, I suppose. Vorgoth did the best he could to raise me as normally as possible. But my gift set me apart. It was hard to make friends.” Bellara: “Why?” Calais: “When you can peer into the veil and speak with spirits as if they were standing next to you, it gives you a leg up in a place like that.” Bellara: “Oh, leg, because of your leg thing?” Calais: “No, leg because that’s the turn of phrase.” Bellara: “Is it? Oh, right. I got them mixed up again. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.” Calais: “That’s alright, you weren’t.” Bellara: “Does it hurt? Your leg?” Calais: “Yeah, all the time. Every day.” Bellara: “How do you cope with it?” Calais: “I have salves, and an elfroot tea that helps. Tastes like ass though.” Bellara: “Could you get a brace made, to help with the pain and the walking?” Calais: “I had one made, but I never wear it. The thing is more uncomfortable than the pain my leg causes me anyway.”

Bellara: “I heard you play piano the other night, in your room.” Calais: “And here I was, thinking I had a nice moment to myself.” Bellara: “You're very good. I stood and listened until you stopped playing.” Calais: “Thank you. And yeah, I fell asleep eventually.” Bellara: “You play until you fall asleep?” Calais: “On hard days.”

Bellara: “Will you play piano for me some time?” Calais: “I don’t do well with an audience.” Bellara: *deflated* “Oh..” Calais: “But, for you, I’ll try.” Bellara: *excited gasp* “Thank you!”

Bellara: *Humming song* Calais: *chuckling* “Liked that one, did you?” Bellara: “Oh, yes! You’re a very good piano player, and that song was so catchy. I keep hearing it in my head.” Rook: “Now I’m curious.” Bellara: “Cal played me a few songs last night, to help me get to sleep. But they were so good they kept me awake because I wanted to listen to them.” Calais: “Yeah, missed the mark on that.” Rook: “But it seems you’ve found a captive audience at least.” Calais: *chuckles* “Yeah. Who knows, maybe I’ll play in front of the team at some point.” Bellara: *excited noises* Calais: “No promises!”

#dragon age #datv #dragon age the veilguard #veilguard #bellara lutare #bellara dragon age #rook companion banter

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gay-little-axolotl · 8 months ago

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despite being interviewed individually, all four gave the exact same response

#starkid #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #hatchetfield #peter spankoffski #stephanie lauter #richie lipschitz #ruth fleming #my art hehe #I’ve been waiting to have time to post this for days #also sorry if ruth’s gear doesn’t look that visible I swear it’s there idk what happened with the opacity on that one

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babydollslibrary · 2 days ago

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LAVENDER HAZE — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem!reader

published: February 6th, 2023

summary: in which y/n has been dealing with hate from Trevor’s fans and journalists constantly speculating when they’ll get married.

specific lyrics: “i been under scrutiny. you handle it beautifully. all this shit is new to me.” and “all they keep asking me is if i’m gonna be your bride. the only kinda girl they see is a one night or a wife.”

not my gif

“y/n, when are you and Trevor gonna get married?” a reporter asks as i walk through the hallways of Honda Center, away from the Ducks dressing room and up towards the seating. i send a stiff smile their way and continue walking, effectively ignoring their question.

i’ve been dating Trevor since we were sixteen. five years together and you’d think i would be used to this by now, but it’s harder than one would think.

of course Trevor and i have talked about marriage, when you’ve been together this long, it’s inevitable that you’ve talked about it. but we’ve mutually decided to wait until it feels right for us. we’re only twenty-one after all. but it seems that it’s the only question i get asked nowadays.

sure, when i ran into reporters in the past, they may have asked me this question a couple times, but usually they just asked me what it was like to be high school sweethearts with an nhl player or what kind of things Trevor does at home to get ready for a game. but now it’s always ‘when are you guys getting married?’ and ‘y/n has Trevor proposed yet?’.

having been dating Trevor since his USNTDP days, it’s definitely different dealing with him now having real fans and him being approached at restaurants for pictures. i don’t mind it, but it can get to be a bit much when with his fame comes hate towards me. girls telling me i’m not good enough for him or that they could treat him better and whatnot. every photo i post on instagram has at least twenty comments saying such things.

i’m sat on the couch waiting for Trevor to get home from his game. i left right after it ended, Trevor texting me that he had to do interviews and that Jamie would drop him off at home.

—

@y/n11 just posted

Liked by @jackhughes and 14,628 others

@y/n11: the secret is out, i’m actually just @trevorzegras personal photographer 📸

Load more comments

@user1: y/n using her boyfriend for clout again lol

@user2: alexa play treat you better by shawn mendes

@jackhughes: i’m stealing Louie next time i visit

@y/n11: good luck, Trevor might actually disown you as a friend if you try

@jackhughes:@y/n11 sounds like a win-win situation to me

@user3: how has it taken me months to realize she changed the number in her username to match Trevor’s jersey number? didn’t she used to be y/n46?

@user4: yeah, and before that she was y/n9 to match his usa number. they’re so cute 😭 i wonder if she’ll change her username to y/nzegras when they get married

@trevorzegras: and you’re the cutest photographer there ever was

@y/n11: i wanna smooch your face 💋💋

@_alexturcotte: whipped

@trevorzegras: @_alexturcotte i don’t see you with a girlfriend so which one of us is really winning here?

@user5: oh look, another post of Trevor. anyone wanna take a guess on what her next post will be? hint: it probably won’t her ugly ass

@_quinnhughes: miss you! come visit soon!

@trevorzegras: aww miss you too Huggy!

@_quinnhughes:@trevorzegras did it look like i tagged you? you can stay in Anaheim

@y/n11: miss you too Hugs! i’ll come with Trev on their next game there and root for you! 🧸

@user6: lmao she’s rooting for another guy? slut. bet she’s bounced around to all Trevor’s old teammates + Quinn

—

i scroll through the comments on my recent instagram post, seeing all the girls insulting me or saying i use Trevor for fame. am i not allowed to post my boyfriend anymore just because he’s in the NHL?

i didn’t realize i had tears welling in my eyes until one drops onto my screen. wiping it off, i hear the front door open and shut, Trevor arriving home. i listen to the mundane sounds of him slipping his shoes off and dropping his keys into the dish by the door before i hear his footsteps coming towards the living room. i hastily wipe away my tears and sniffle before he can see that i’ve been crying.

“hey, baby.” i say, my voice not quite recovered from my throat being closed up while i was crying, but Trevor doesn’t seem to notice. he takes the seat next to me on the couch, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in so my head lays on his chest.

“hi, love. did you see that goal i made for you?” he asks and i chuckle.

“i did. you did amazing, babe. i’m so proud of you.” i tell him, wrapping my arm around his waist and squeezing him tighter to me. he drops a kiss to the top of my head and i can feel the smile on his lips.

“lemme see that pretty face.” he whispers, nudging my chin up with his hand. but when i look up at him, his smile drops. “hey, what happened? why were you crying?”

he rubs at my cheek with his thumb, tracing my puffy under eye with the tip of it. i shake my head slightly.

“it’s nothing, Trev.” he shakes his head and scowls.

“it’s not nothing if it made my girl cry. now tell me.” he says.

“it was just the comments on my instagram post. there were these girls—” i cut myself off, not knowing if i want to tell him what they said.

“hey, what? ‘there were these girls’ what?” he asks softly.

“these girls were commenting that i was using you for clout, and that i was ugly. and another one said that i’ve probably gotten with you and all your friends.” i whisper. his face contorts in disbelief before dropping into an angry frown.

“don’t listen to them.” he tells me. i open my mouth to rebut but he speaks again. “i’m serious, y/n. don’t pay them any attention. i know you’re not using me. i mean, you put up with my annoying, class clown ass in high school. if that doesn’t speak wonders then i don’t know what does.”

i giggle and land a light smack against his chest.

“i happen to have liked your annoying, class clown ass.” i tease.

“and i still wonder why.” he shrugs. “as for the other comments, you’re gorgeous, princess. you’re so beautiful. i still can’t believe i get to wake up every morning and see that pretty face. i can’t understand for the life of me, why you stay with me when you’re so out of my league. but i’m so grateful that you do, because i can’t imagine where i’d be and what my life would be like without you.”

i smile at his sweet words and lean up to kiss his lips.

“i love you.” i mumble against them.

“i love you too, babygirl.” he presses one more quick peck to my lips before pulling away “also, i know you’ve never been with any of my friends. i mean, c’mon, why would you want them when you can have this?”

he sweeps a hand down his body and i bark out a laugh. he smiles down at me, running his hand through my hair before he stops it at the back of my neck, pulling me in for another, deeper, kiss.

“you know, i’ve been thinking.” he tells me when he pulls back.

“oh that’s never good.” i say.

“ha ha ha.” he narrows his eyes at me, slipping the hand from the back of my neck in order to use it to shove my forehead, making me fall back onto the cushion of the couch behind me. “i was thinking, maybe next year?”

“maybe next year what?” i ask, face contorting in confusion.

“maybe next year we should get married.” he says. i pop back up into a sitting position quickly, nearly hitting my head against his. he chuckles and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Trevor Zegras did you just propose to me?” i ask, my tone incredulous. “on our couch?!”

“yeah, i guess i did.” he says. “what do you say? you wanna be my wife?”

“i could hit you right now.” i tell him.

“so, it that a no?” he asks, an eyebrow raised in questioning. i shuffle onto his lap, straddling him and grabbing his face in my hands.

“there is nothing in this world that i want more than to be your wife.” i whisper, leaning my forehead against his.

“oh thank god.” he sighs. he sticks his hand in his pocket, shuffling around in it before pulling his hand back out in a fist. he opens his fist to reveal a ring box. “because i’ve had this ring since we were eighteen.”

tears sting my eyes, my heart leaping in my chest as i pull my head back from his. he opens the box, showing off a beautiful white gold ring with a pear cut diamond and a twisted halo design.

“since we were eighteen?” i ask. “but that’s the year that we were fighting all the time.”

“yeah, and you stayed. despite all the stupid arguments, you still made sure we never went to bed angry at each other, and you stuck by my side.” he takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto my finger before pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“i love you so much.” i whisper before capturing his lips with mine. he pulls back a second later to mumble out his own ‘i love you’ before he resumes kissing me.

but then a thought pops into my head and i pull away, furrowing my brows at him.

“why did you have the ring in your pocket right now?” i ask him.

“well i had this whole plan that i was gonna bring you out on the ice before warm ups and ask you there but, when it came down to it, it didn’t feel right. i wanted the right moment. and now felt right.”

—

@y/n11 just posted

Liked by @colecaufield and 43,793 others

@y/n11: forever with you sounds pretty great @trevorzegras

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@trevorzegras: i’m pretty damn lucky that i’ll get to call you my wife 🤍

@jackhughes: finally! i was beginning to think he would never use that damn ring! congrats guys

@y/n11: you knew about the ring?!

@jackhughes:@y/n11 who do you think helped him pick it out?

@colecaufield: congrats you guys! can’t wait to be the best man

@jackhughes: think again bud, i’m gonna be the best man

@_alexturcotte:@jackhughes i think we all know that I’M gonna be the best man because Trevor likes me best

@y/n11:@jackhughes @_alexturcotte thank you cole! and i hate to be the bearer of bad news but the best man will definitely be Louie … gotta go 🏃‍♀️

@_quinnhughes: congratulations! so happy for you two!

@y/n11: thank you Huggy! get ready to go suit shopping because i can’t imagine anyone else being my man of honor

@lhughes_06: damn, Z beat me to it. i was gonna ask you this summer at the lake house! happy for you though 🥲😪

@y/n11: aww sorry Moosey! keep an eye out just in case forever doesn’t work out

@griffinzegras: can’t wait for you to officially be my sister!

@y/n11: aww you’ve been my baby brother for 5 years but now it’ll be legally true! can’t wait to boss you around!

@griffinzegras:@y/n11 i take it back @trevorzegras any way that you wanna take her back to the pound?

@trevorzegras:@griffinzegras nah, i like this one. i’mma keep her

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#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #anaheim ducks

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