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allophonicmess · 8 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

Act 2

GIF von asgardswinter

Warnings: spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine, descriptions of a panic attack, angst, implicaded age gap, horror elements, description of blood and violence

wordcount: 3.8k words

I am overwhelmed by all your positve feedback :,)

So I wrote Act 2 over the weekend. Depending on feedback I might expand this story to a full 5 Act piece. Tell me what you think of that :) Enjoy Act 2!

When Logan woke up, he noticed everything was quiet around him, except for that annoying pigeon always perched up next to his window. He remembered how one year it tried to build a nest right next to the window and they had asked Kitty to transport just outside of the wall to get rid of it. She accidentally cracked one of the eggs during that job and cried about it for half a week. Logan huffed in amusement thinking about it.

The next sensation that returned to him was touch. And he suddenly felt too hot. There were one too many pillows around his head and he felt how his body started to heat up again after his night's sleep. The same can be said for the double blanket that weighed him down and the hot breeze that hit his neck in a steady rhythm.

Wait.

He frowned.

A hot breeze?

“I thought we were sleeping in…” A mumble came from right next to him. The voice was still raspy from sleep but it took Logan less than a second to realize what had happened.

Fuck.

He swore to himself that he would keep his hands off her till he figured things out between him and Jean. His body stiffened. How to get out of this mess?

Y/N moved closer to him, her head resting on the pillow then placed onto his chest. She hummed contently at the warmth of his body.

Last night's end-of-semester party had ended on a positive note for her when Logan pulled her away from the drink, snacks and conversations to finally kiss her. She was pinned against the ornate oakwood wall coverings in the hallway and it was more beautiful and sensual than she had imagined.

Then they inevitably ended up in Logan's room where they spent the night having sex till they fell asleep. She had waited for him to finally make the move after a constant back and forth between them.

Logan sighed, moving into a sitting position and moving her with him. “We are sleeping in.”, he responded, smoothing his hand along her exposed shoulder and arm. “ I just need to sit up for a minute, bub. You know how my back is.”

She hummed in response, looking up at him with a content, sleepy smile. Why did she have to make this worse?

“I really like you, Logan. This… us, you know?” She asked, her hand moving to massage his shoulder. Why can’t she stop?

He let his head rest against the wooden bed frame. “ Yeah”, closing his eyes and thinking of a way to set things straight again.

“It's not the right time to talk about this but...I told you about my plan to teach at another school for the next few years. See something new, learn and better my teaching.” She moved closer, from her leaning position into a half-upright one. One leg was thrown over his hips.

Yes, please go.

“Yeah, you told me,” Logan answered, trying to keep his voice neutral. Her departure would give him time to sort himself out and or makeup with Jean. He did feel bad for letting Y/n on but she seemed so happy about it.

“I’m not so sure about it now. With you and me… I wanna give this a try.” She leaned forward to give him a soft kiss. Logan turned his head just in time for her lips to partially miss and land in his scruffy beard. He concealed it by hugging her into his chest.

He paused before answering. Feeling her weight against his chest, the soft skin of her back against his arms. This was nice, he admitted. But there still resigned a little dark seed in him that pushed him towards Jean. To try again, keep chasing and not give up. Y/n would be there. She always was but Jean was moving fast, unreachable and glowing.

“Go on” He spoke.

“I’m going to ask the other school to push my visit for another year. Spend more time with you ” She gently moved her hands along his back, caressing it. No, leave. You need to leave!

“Sounds like a good idea, bub.” He sighed softly, letting go of her and leaning back against the bed frame. Y/n had moved into his lap, legs resting over his hips and he felt himself stirring again at the close contact.

She grinned happily at him. Chasing him for another kiss. “Great! Another summer together can’t hurt.” She kissed again, “right?”

Logan shook his head slightly as a high-pitched ringing started to sound around him.

Her hands started racking through his hair, pulling him closer.

If only she had known…

“Oh, I do!” She laughed, kissing along his neck, her hands scratching along his back.

Logan tensed “What?”

If she had known that you would leave her alone to die. She wouldn’t have wanted to stay. She would be fine now. One fucking summer with him cost her all.

“It was a good time though.” She sighed against his pulse, nibbling the soft skin there. Her free hand had moved along his body down under the blankets.

30 days she had with you.

Then you killed her.

She would be fine if you had told her and let her go.

“Why wait that long?” She let go of his neck staring right at him. “We can do it now!”

“What is happening?” Logan tried to push her off but to no avail. He was getting hot, skin prickling with sweat that wanted to squeeze through his pores.

“And this time you are right here. Why not do it yourself?” She smiled softly, both hands caressing his cheeks.

The ringing got louder and louder, drowning out all sounds except for her voice which got more distorted. It scratched against his eardrum painfully.

“On the count of three,” She giggled, moving to position herself steady on his hips.

Logan couldn’t move.

“One!”

He felt trapped, watching her take his hands from behind her back.

“Two”

Serves you right asshole!

She placed his knuckles right under her breastbone. He felt the warm skin underneath his shaking hands.

“Aaaand Three!”

Everything went silent.

His claws pierced through her chest with a disgusting wet sound. He could feel the dense material of her skin and flesh against his claws. The warmth of her body shifted into the metal coating. His shaking hands caused the blades to scratch against her bones and it made him shudder.

She gasped, holding herself upright against his shoulders.

“Oh wow…” She laughed, weakly. A trail of blood leaked from her mouth, dripping onto his hands and running down onto the white sheets. Red droplets spread in the cotton, dying it red.

“That actually really hurts!” She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. Her body was starting to tremble.

“Y/n…” Logan whispered in horror. Looking at the woman impaled.

“See, Logan, that’s what happens-“ she took his hands and rammed them further into her body. ”Fuck! Ha- When you let me get close”

She leaned forward, moving his arms with her. His elbows knocked against the cool wood behind him.

A soft, bloody kiss was placed on his cheek.

Logan only whimpered, trying to close his eyes but he still couldn’t move.

“Now… Do better.” She whispered in his ear. Slowly she got back into her seated position. She smiled at him with a bloodied smile, teeth stained and dripping red. She lifted her arm and smacked him across the cheek with an inhuman force.

Logan scrambled to get up. A crusty carpet under his fingers, the stench of garlic in his nose and the bright sunlight blinding him.

Coffee.

He could smell coffee.

He was sweating, feeling the little crumbs and bits of dust sticking to his exposed skin. They prick him as he shifts into a sitting position. Logan's back was flush against the cool leather of the sofa he must have slept on, falling onto the dirty carpet.

A dream.

A memory.

A nightmare.

“Whoa! Peanut, you up?" Wade called from the kitchen. He strolled into the living room in his red and white morning robe coffee mug in hand. He eyed Logan cautiously. Noticing the older man's heavy breathing and disoriented look. All jokes aside: Wade felt bad for seeing him in pain. They had more in common than either wanted to admit.

“Fell right off the couch huh?” Wade crouched down in front of Logan. He watched silently as the other came back to his senses, brushing off the dirt on his exposed arms. Wade blew away the steam of his hot coffee.

“Must have been a tumble.” Wade suggestively lifted his nonexistent brows. “A sexy tumble?” He slurped his coffee loudly.

“Get the fuck away from me.” Logan brushed a hand over his sweaty brow and into his hair.

“An unpleasant tumble then? Well, don’t feel bad, buddy. Happens to the best of us” Wade patted Logan's head, getting away fast enough to not get sliced again. He moved back to the counter, pouring Logan a cup in his newly acquired “ hottest DILF in the MCU” cup. And two sugars. Logan would never ask for them out loud but Wade knew that he liked sweet things.

“That’s a bit on the nose, no?” Wade chuckled, bringing the mug over to Logan who had managed to get seated on the couch. The mismatched blanket and pillow pushed off onto the side.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, I didn’t talk to you.”

Logan huffed, taking a sip. “ Fucking maniac” The sweet burning liquid soothed his fried nerves.

Wade grabbed a chair, seating himself at the kitchen counter. Logan needed some space if he was to give some answers.

They sat in silence for the next few minutes, each nursing their drink.

It was Logan that broke the silence: “How did I get back here?” He sighed, staring at Wade.

The other man had been staring out of the window, seemingly lost in thought.

“Oh yeah. Well after you made a run for it, stabbed me on the street, destroyed my brand new light cotton shirt-“

“Get to the point.”

Wade gasped dramatically ” Catty, are we?” He clicked his tongue and continued “After that the party was basically over. And after most of the guests were gone, me and the tag team, went looking for you and picked you up from a piss-drenched alley before you went on to cause more trouble. Please and thank you.”

Logan sighed, upset and embarrassed. He had not only upset Wade and the girl but also wrecked the party for the rest of him. They called him the worst Wolverine for a reason.

Wade turned towards to fridge to scavenge for some breakfast. “Your tab has also been covered.”

Logan almost choked on his drink: “By who?”

“Ohh the X-men… academy? I don’t know.” Wade shrugged, biting into a piece of leftover puff pastry. “Piotr said something about thanking you for stabilizing the timeline. I didn’t really understand and neither did he. But hey! You got your sins paid for with government money. Isn’t that sweet?”

He grabbed a muffin from the fridge and threw it at Logan, who luckily caught it.

“And after all that fucking trouble, you at least owe me an explanation.” Wade's sudden shift from playful to serious sobered Logan.

He stayed silent for a moment, feeling how his jaw tensed. That fucking dream had been like a punch in the gut, his subconscious fucking him up even further.

He sniffed, setting the mug down.

“I knew a Y/n in my timeline.”

“No shit!” Wade exclaimed, his frustration blending into the mocking tone of his voice.

Logan grunted in annoyance. “We were both at the school. Working there. Fighting together. I met her quite early on.” One of his hands rubbed over the rough material of his jeans. “She and I were close; always had my back. And I took that for granted.” He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “She died, with the others.”

Silence hung in the room, making the air feel thick.

“And?” Wade, asked.

“And what?” Logan was agitated.

“Well yeah, she died. Like the others. But you had no panic attack when you met Colossus, or Ellie, Yukio-“

“She wanted to leave the school for a year abroad. Teach somewhere else but she stayed because of me." His chest was getting heavy again. “She stayed because I let her on, okay? I kept her close in case things with Jean didn’t work out. I knew she loved me-”

“That’s cookie jarring!” Wade exclaimed, excitedly “My Gen Z’s told me about that!”

“The fuck are you talking about?! I am telling you something important and you-“

“It’s when you keep a second option in case love interest numero uno doesn’t like you back. Keeping a sweet backup treat to not end up without a price.”

“I guess so. But never use that term again. I swear-“ Could you have one serious conversation with this ass clown?

Logan sighed, collecting his thoughts. “She felt more for me than I did for her at the time. I mean I did love her but I was a bastard and couldn’t stop chasing after something that wasn’t mine to begin with.”

The picture of his nightmare came back to him. Y/n, impaled, bleeding out by cause of his hand.

“She wouldn’t have been there if you had told her the truth? When the attack happened?” Wade concluded.

“I reciprocated her feelings. Gave her what she wanted for a night after I got frustrated with Jean. I made Y/n think that I was over her.” He scratched his beard, still feeling her lips linger there “I didn’t have the guts to tell her the truth and I was too much of a bastard to stop; couldn’t see that she was the one... She haunts me the most.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“you really are an asshole. A surprisingly reflected asshole.” Wade nodded, lifting his mug in a mocking salute.

Logan just scoffed.

“Great, now that’s out of the way. I have a confession to make.” Wade fumbled with his pocket and pulled out a beat-up notebook.

“What did you do?” The older one said wearily.

“I…” Wade flipped through the pages in a dramatic fashion, mumbling while he pulled out several loose sheets. “… went on a little universe hopping trip while you were having your beauty sleep. And met with the other Wolvies that I had met during the search for you, pumpkin.”

He scattered the pages and some pictures on the counter. “At least the ones that didn’t want to kill me right away or the ones that stopped after they got their steam off.”

“Get to the fucking point. This is worse than the babbling on the home shopping-“ Logan had gotten up from the couch to inspect the pages.

“In every timeline that I visited, there was a Y/n. That was connected and or married to you, big boy.” Wade proudly took a sip of his now cold coffee while Logan rummaged through the material present.

“That can’t be. It’s coincident.”

“Na uh! Not if it’s constant in a bunch of universes and we are talking about a bunch, I mean, a BUNCH of universes. Do we want to say it together?”

“What?”

“Okay, 1,2,3-“

“No.”

“SOULMATES!” Wade cheered.

“No. There are no soulmates and even if there were. That-“ He pointed at the scribbled notes. “Is not how it works.”

“Aw c’mon! There are no rules to soulmates. You can do it in all kinds of ways. Matching tattoos, first words spoken to another, only getting colour vision after meeting the one-“ He gasped “You do see in colour, right?”

“This proved nothing. And you need to stop getting into my fucking business.” Logan crumpled up the note in his hand and dropped it to the ground. “I don’t care what you think. This is bullshit and a waste of time. I-“

He was interrupted by a yelp, coming from the the hallway.

The fucking dog. Logan sighed. It was a mistake to get to this universe.

“Shhh-“ Another voice, hushed the puppy.

Oh no, oh please no.

“She is here?!” Logan spit angrily. He felt betrayed. Why was she here? Why didn’t Wade tell him? And why didn’t he sense it before? She heard everything. The fucking drinking problem and his fucking age were catching up to him.

“What-? She came all the way here. Late and the party ended right after, thanks to someone who can’t keep his shitty trauma at bay!” Wade bickered. “Y/n is my friend too, you know!”

The door to Deadpool’s room opened slowly. There was no reason to keep hiding in there. The pup had blown her cover. “Poppy, no, stay…” She sighed in annoyance as the dog rushed off to her owner. Wade picked her up quickly, kissing her on the tuff of fur on her otherwise naked body.

“She is not my friend-“ Logan pointed at Wade accusingly. His eyes shifted to the hallway where he saw the door open slowly. Wade’s door. He saw red.

“She slept in your room?!” The pointing finger quickly turned into a fistful of adamantium claws, the tips nicking Wade’s chin. “You have a death wish you little fuck?!”

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Y/n rushed out of the room to de-escalate the unfolding situation. She hoped to make a quiet escape, sneak out through the fire escape, wait it out or call Piotr to stage a plan to get her out of there. But thanks to the puppy and these two hot heads it was going to be the awkward confrontation kind of exit.

She had tried to play it cool last night and not show her disappointment. She had been curious about the new character that Wade brought back from his multidimensional trip. Y/n wanted to find out what he was like, and how this world differed from his. She even asked the older X-team members about their Logan. What he was like, what he liked, and what topics interested him.

And he had made a run for it the second he saw her. Of course, she was hurt. Trying to push the tears down as the others tried to comfort her. She didn’t feel like crying but the sudden attention had made her feel like she should.

“Relax, okay?” She lifted her hands in surrender. “And you, drop the puppy. She isn’t involved in your…” She plucked the puppy from Wade’s arm and set her down. “Whatever this is.”

Logan watched her, looking for little details in her movements, and her behaviour. With regret, he came to the conclusion that she was a carbon copy of the woman he lost. His eyes got glassy as the images of his nightmare played behind his eyes. He shook his head swiftly, eyes set on the wooden counter to calm before he had another outburst.

Y/n watched him and sighed “I slept in his room because the sofa was occupied.” She said calmly, moving past Wade to get to the sink where her carrier sat. It was dirtied with cream and crumbs, a rinse was in order but that had to wait. “And sleeping in your room felt intrusive, I assumed you would agree.” She clicked the container shut.

Wade watched her carefully, his brain working quickly to think of a joke, or a jest… anything to dissolve the situation. He felt like a child, trapped in their parent's divorce. Humour was his sharpest weapon. So he aimed. “yeah!” He leaned onto the counter, closing in on the spot that Logan seemed to be so focused on. “We switched. Some good old game of Ringelpiez. And I gotta say, your sheets smell sweet like honey, badger.” He winked at Logan, knowing fully well that he might end up with his brain skewered.

But the older one simply groaned, annoyed at his antiques.

Y/n softly touched Wade's shoulder “It’s alright. I’m just going to leave” She carefully turned to Logan. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Truly.” His eyes shifted to her for a second and it was Y/n that looked away quickly. His gaze was too heavy, holding emotions that she couldn’t decipher or handle.

“What? Pudding, no” Wade whined “What about girlfriend brunch?” He placed his hands on his hips in dramatic fashion. “You promised”

“Wade- don’t.” She warned him. “Next week, okay?” Logan still avoided her. The Wolverine, a feared and powerful mutant, cowering in a corner over unresolved feelings. One might pity him.

Y/n shouldered her bag and said goodbye to the dog that watched the interaction with native happiness.

She opened the door and quickly stepped into the hallway. The muffled sounds of arguing resumed only a second after the lock clicked into place but she continued on. The elevator was only a few steps away, she almost managed to get out when the door opened behind her.

“Wait.”

Y/n stopped, looking over her shoulder cautiously. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw dark hair…

“I’m sorry alright…”He stopped looking for the right words. He didn’t think when he ran to the door, leaving Wade standing there mid-sentence. It was like a pull that called him to follow. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” He sighed, frustrated at his mumbling. He was the Wolverine for god's sake.

“I shouldn’t have…. I-“

“apology accept.” She interrupted him, turning around and facing him.

Logan froze.

“But we have to set one thing straight.” She set her shoulders back, unconsciously making herself look bigger. “ I am sorry for your loss. I truly am. But I am not her.” Y/n shook her head softly. “And you are not my Logan-“ She noticed the odd phrasing when his eyes widened ever so little “Not that he was-you get what I mean.” She huffed embarrassed.

“Yeah.” Logan chuckled softly as the tension ebbed away. Was she also feeling that tingle in her chest?

“Anyway,let's do this properly. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/n.” She held out her hand for him to shake.

A simple, friendly and professional handshake. Surely he could manage that, no?

He looked at her hand for a moment, surprised by the gesture. Then his large hand took hers. He was pleasantly surprised at the firmness with which she squeezed his fingers. There was no fear. No uncertainty.

It felt warm and familiar. Like home

“Logan.” He stated.

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chaaistained · 2 months ago

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☕︎ my marauders dr; intro •°

🗝️ you’ve now unlocked the recipe to my marauders dr ≈

name : julia ephemeri potter

age (when i shift) : 15 — i’m experiencing the whole slow burn.. and i just know it’s gonna be torture . but we persevere

— (when i post about my script) : most of the time, i’ll be talking about me from the ages of 16-21 onwards

occupation : student of witchcraft at hogwarts

+ (eventually) some form of adult occupation . i’ll edit this later i genuinely don’t know and i don’t need to know for good few years at least so..

details :

— house : gryffindor

— wand : sandalwood with a mermaid hair core , 9.5”

+ wand breakdown

— patronus : brown bear / sable (undecided, i love both.. help)

— amortentia : ocean air , candle wax , musty books

+ amortentia breakdown

— fav subject : alchemy

— top subjects : (+ alchemy) ancient runes , charms , muggle studies

— pets : sadie / sadie sue (ginger tabby cat) , barnaby (brown barn owl , shared with james..)

side hobbies/hustles : gryffindor quidditch team seeker

+ (eventually) editorial team of the hogwarts herald

+ (eventually) prefect

s/o : regulus arcturus black ৻ꪆ

౨ৎ meet miss juju berry

an incandescence, forged of tart blood and a permeating sense of melancholy — she finds herself in a constant search, an unsolvable quest for meaning, latching onto anything that can define her identity and yet feeling irrevocably lost to herself — she is only the light, not the sun . she is only the shell, not the pearl . she is only the stain , not the blackberry

i unfurl into this reality with the kind of effervescence found in firewhiskey, a bubbling surprise of sorts, one that my own parents weren’t expecting. my mum calls me a gift, she calls my brother a blessing . i don’t know if the difference in term denotes a difference in how we’re perceived, and truth be told it drove me crazy as a kid and sometimes it still does but for whatever purpose or prosperity, the fates resolved that i was meant to be born and here i am

a toppling fire cracker of a girl, or so i’m told, i’m one of the rambunctious gryffindors that barrel down the marble hallways of hogwarts castle. i bunk with seven other girls, one of whom is my best friend — mary macdonald. along with the charming ravenclaw — emmeline vance — and a snark of a hufflepuff — hestia jones — the four of us can be found in various locations around the school campus; passed out in a heap on the softest patch of grass near the black lake , shooting pine cones over the whomping willow and keeping score of who gets the most over without the tree smacking them away , secluded in the third booth on the second floor of the library . our quills drying out while we distractedly ignore our transfiguration homework in favour of finding the right spell to conceal our carved names on the bottom of the booth’s oakwood table (the result of emmeline sneaking alcoholic butterbeer into the school, and a series of bad decisions later, we’d all drunkenly vandalised the furniture.. thankfully mcgonagall doesn’t know or i might lose my prefect badge)

with small flowers in my braid and golden earrings that shimmer as i shake my head, i slip between the sea of students with an ease that can only be spotted in the agile gait of a seeker. though, nothing about my speed on the ground can compare to that which i showcase when i’m hundreds of feet in the air, my broomstick being an extension of me, something i trust to a concerning degree, coming up with the sorts of tricks and techniques that would land me in the hospital wing if i wasn’t as good as i am. that attention to detail, the pedantic precision of my sight is also what makes me a renowned editor of the student body’s newsletter — a semi-professional scrapbook of a weekly issue, a holistic voice of all students from all houses . honestly it can be hard to maintain that harmony but perhaps that’s why dumbledore sanctioned the club, a forceful hand at coexisting

regardless, it’s the least of my worries, a pastime really, my main focus being the exceedingly irritating presence of a certain slytherin seeker, who grows more and more unbearable by the day, not to mention he’s constantly around, in almost all my classes, assigned to same hours of prefect patrol, not a moment of peace . and yet paired with that bothersome nuisance brews the burning desire to find out more

and if you want to know why, then i suppose you should keep reading

(merlin’s name, i can write intrigue splendidly, they should assign me as the journalist not just the bloody editor)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

౨ৎ my black bird

a rising tide in his own right, he is determined to maintain what is deemed to be perfection, unwilling to admit that no two waves ever look the same, no two stars ever shine alike, there is no apex . and yet he tries. haunted by ancestry, rippling currents that pull him into the ravine of his family’s legacy, it’s a future he wishes to inherit whilst believing it impossible. until his brother abandoned his birthright and that status, that title, that name he always wanted to earn yet never actually trained for, was now his

that unassuming final breath before striking a curse, the calm interwoven with calamity, that’s what regulus feels in every waking moment .

there is a blurry haze of memories when he tries to decipher where it all began — did envy bleed out of him every time sirius entered the room and commanded attention with his mere presence? or was it admiration? did he love his brother or loath him? maybe neither, maybe both, maybe everything in between and nothing at all, it never made sense and it probably never will.

so then leaves the question of his own significance — fostered from birth? or handed down simply because he is the spare to the heir? in this instance both made sense but neither option would ever be clarified.

and so regulus chooses to not feel anything, reserve all emotions to be shared with a few select friends — evan and barty had a way about them, his laughter was not something he could hold back in their presence . dorcas founded a semblance of solitude even though the space was shared, as if their silence was a mutual understanding, a shorthand of sorts . pandora had the gift of gracing their group with his smile, he considered it a curse that she had such a superpower, to bring out these genuine joys in other people, but he knew she wouldn’t see it that way — those were his people

not his brother . who he shifted his eyes to look away from whenever they passed each other .. only to turn back and glance over his shoulder, observing the elder son’s movements, wishing he’d turn back too, and then hurriedly clenching his fist, squashing the thought before it even had the chance to breathe

not his parents . who stood tall yet hollow, ghosts of who they were before their family was “torn apart” according to them, holding metaphorical goal posts only to keep moving them higher and higher every time regulus attempted to score, before tutting as he slipped and fell, unable to maintain the impossible altitude of their expectations

no. his people were his friends, the people who could mellow out his misgivings, erode his stone walls

and yet, those stone walls remain intact, erosion takes time.

unless of course someone me shattered the very structure of his world view, erupting his life into firework flurries of emotions, clandestine nights, musty sunrises drenched in dew drops and fog, leaving a wafting air about the world, scented jasmine and blackberry, amber gold flecks embedded inside twin irises . the kind of beauty that haunts his dreams and burns fire in his heart

he really should not be giving in to such a tragically stupid connection, not when majority of the time is spent bickering amongst dusty textbooks, whispering shouts bouncing off cold castle walls in the middle of the night, hexes spewing back and forth before finally forfeiting from fear of being caught .. that isn’t what he should want

he shouldn’t want anything

and yet he does

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

౨ৎ candlelit hearts

sinking into an unknown abyss, falling from the sky with a smile on your face while the halo around your head crackles, wax dripping down the curve of your back, you were destined to fall, that’s what you are meant to do, that’s who you are meant to be — a tidal wave tore through your heart, engulfing you entirely and yet you let yourself descend deeper and deeper — for reasons unknown, you found a companion in the darkness, a fire in the flesh, a home between interlaced fingers, foreheads pressed together and a single flickering candle flame that burns bright from the magic of your shared love

it’s funny, when i look back at it. because i suppose we always knew the other existed, but i only really met him when i was 13..

whatever classes we shared before, whatever moments were missed where we walked past each other through hallways or on moving staircases, those never really registered.

i just remember the cold, the prickly sensation of snow on my bare fingertips, crunching under my feet, glittering from the shy slithers of sunlight that flitted through the bleak grey sky. the constant dinging bells, the sound of students exploring all that hogsmeade had to offer, and yet there we stood, facing each other in an alley between shops, frowning in a way that would become all too familiar in the years to come

for what it’s worth, it’s easy to dislike the guy — almost always beating me by a few marks, his facial expression was more than enough of a gloat in itself . creating nicknames for whatever trick i use in a quidditch match and always coming up with a counter move (he can’t ever let me win. personally speaking, of course, i win plenty of matches) . it’s always something with him, and whatever quick bursts of emotion i bring out are hurriedly buried under a blank expression and a tired, almost uninterested visage that boils my blood in a way i cannot possibly describe . and yet i find myself thinking about it, about him, in the ungodly hours of the night.. only to get back at him of course

and it isn’t as if i can speak for him, for the longest time i had no clue what he’d be thinking no matter how long i stared, trying to decipher his thoughts.. but i’d be an idiot to have not noticed a change — the way he would walk through life with a strive to prove himself and yet constantly controlling how much of that ambition he could show.. living each day almost half present, half minded, elsewhere entirely, focused on a far reaching future as if it was right around the corner

he wasn’t like that anymore, he seemed to flourish, to spark, to appear alive . but only when teetering on the tightrope of an improbable partnership, an impossible romance, a strange little love story written between the aged cushions of an abandoned couch, in a hidden lounge, behind an old potions classroom — we found it together . or, more so, we argued and raced to unlock the door first, but regardless, it was our space . a space in which the kindling fire of an unlikely friendship would blossom into something greater than i could ever hope for

and when the mysteries within the castle walls start to crack through, when the secrets between the students stir the cauldron of rumours, and the history of influential families begins to pull itself up from the grave .. i guess it’s not so surprising to admit, but someone as curious as me, paired with someone as persistent as regulus? it’s no big shock that we find ourselves in the middle of such a storm

one transmutation away from uncovering the truth, waking up old bones, and burying the new ones

don’t swallow the tea leaves ! for they leave you a message 🍂

the people have spoken (i’m referring to the poll) and so i post ^this .. it did take a while bcs of numerous reasons that i don’t want to go into but anyway, i adore this dr so so much and i’ve worked so hard on the fic version of it T^T however it is a bit too traumatic for me to actually live out so .. this dr is slightly more tame — i just want to relive high school in hogwarts with the people that helped me through a lot of the shit i faced when i was in high school and they were merely characters on a screen — although, i can’t help myself, there are a few mysteries and bouts of intrigue to keep me entertained, i just .need to figure out what.. i could leave it up to my subconscious but . i don’t wanna do that ≈

chaai brews; tea assortments — dr archive

2025 © chaaistained

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blackdollette · 1 year ago

Note

poookieee!! as much as i love me some subby spence.. im dying for soft!dom spence ><

maybe a little prof-teacher taboo something if you’re feeling nasty 😩

i love a challenge!

"pick me up after school, you can be my baby." | spencer reid

ridin'. - lana del rey

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden

college student!female!reader x professor!spencer

word count: 1.0k

contents: y/n is a legal adult, teacher/student dynamic, unprotected p in v, public sex, creampie

you had been taking an unsolicited slumber in the middle of your biology class with mr reid.

the last period of the day when all the irrelevant tangents he went on would enter through one ear and come right out the other. so really, it wasn’t your fault that you just couldn’t keep your attention on him, regardless of his meek elegance and gentle composure. you had fallen asleep to his soft tone of voice, confident that he wouldn’t catch you as he rambled on. which was why you were completely baffled as to how he had you bent over his desk as he scolded you, your plaid skirt on the ground, hugging your ankles.

you had to admit, the tension between you two was palpable. with such a small age gap, it was hard to not fall for a teacher who had such a close resemblance to a greek god. as good as he was at keeping up his professional demeanor, you constantly caught him stealing occasional glances at you as you walked away from him or popping up in your physical education class, catching you in your shorts and tank top as a thin layer of sweat shone off your body. it was the way things had always been.

he tsked, one of his ringed hands having a tight grip on your bare hip. “snoozing during my class? i expected much more from you.” your cheek pressed against the cool oakwood of his neat, organized desk. you would’ve cringed at how cliche this scene was if it wasn’t what you had been thirsting for all along. you pouted, squirming as he used his other hand to keep your hands behind your back. “i-i didn’t mean to, mr reid. i swear..!”

as you moved, your hips pushed into his ever so slightly. he grinned a little, pulling his glasses away from his eyes and carefully placing them on top of his hair to hold back a few stray strands of hair. “i bet you say that to all the teachers, my dear…” your knees shook as his voice dropped an octave. you still had your panties on, which were soaking wet from the heat of the atmosphere.

he swallowed audibly hard, his breath growing shakier by the second as the awkward side of his personality began to flicker through. “y-you’re a very beautiful girl, y’know that..?” your cheeks heated up as he slowly began to trail his thumb up and down your clothed slit, a throbbing sensation growing in his concealed, starched uniform pants.

you whimpered quietly, your hot breath condensing onto the polished wood. he brought his lips to your ear, whispering in a tone that rang through your mind. “i ought to teach you a lesson for being such a bad girl in my class today…” he slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a square-shaped, golden package. a condom. you didn’t think guys like him would carry them around on the fly.

he moved his hand to the button and zipper of his pants, undoing them both swiftly. he tore open the condom pack with his teeth, baring pearly white canines. a white droplet began to seep through the thin fabric of his briefs, revealing his arousal. his thumbs kept a good rhythm on your soaking cunt, starting to slip underneath your panties as he whipped out his cock and rolled the condom onto himself with a deep groan.

your body trembled as the wait became agonizing. you felt so open, so exposed to him. his hands groped and caressed the most intimate parts of you as he lined himself up with your pulsing hole. you desperately moved your hips back, making him chuckle. “someone’s eager, huh?” he gripped his cock with a shaky hand, talking to you as he began to push himself into you. “well i could never deprive my favourite student of something she wants so badly…”

your hands ball into fists as he entered you, inch by inch as he stretched you out until you were full to the brim. you yelped, making him shove two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. your jaw closed around him, drool cascading onto the desk as he started to fuck you. he started slow and steady, his rhythm matching the one of a brand-new metronome.

you moaned and whimpered, your insides struggling to adjust to his size. but surely, he talked you through the overwhelming pleasure. “there you go… just like that..” his voice was low and breathing, your ass bouncing each time he pounded into you. the room filled with lewd noises quickly and you thanked the heavens that the classroom door was locked.

his balls slapped against your puffy clit as he picked up the pace, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped marks on your soft flesh. tears filled your eyes as the overstimulation became mind-boggling. a mess of wetness and precum dripped down your inner thighs. you felt his thick girth twitch inside of you, his breathing getting louder with each thrust.

“s-such a good girl… takin’ me so well…” his words were slurred and melted into each other like ice cream. groans and whimpers echoed through the room, crescendoing until they reached a loud climax. your teacher tossed his head back as his balls tightened up and sent hot ropes of cum shooting into your guts.

your cunt swelled as he filled you with his seed, your whole body going heavy as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. you bit your lip, hard enough to draw blood. you gasped as he pulled himself out of you, feeling empty by the lack of him inside you. he flipped you around, awkwardly taking you into his arms and kissing you deeply on the lips, his jaw clenching as he tasted you. the heat between your legs grew to an unbearable state and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him back until he pulled away, cheeks stained with pink.

he cleared his throat, crouching down to help you pick up your skirt. he lifted you off the desk, helping you put it on. he even took the extra step of grabbing you a handkerchief and dabbing away at the sticky mess on your thighs. as he finished, he looked at you and nodded with approval. “you’d better get going. i’ve assigned three chapters that must be read for our class discussion tomorrow.” you groaned, picking up your bookbag and slinging it over your shoulder. he chuckled, kissing you on the cheek and bringing his lips to your ear. “until next time, my dear.”

author's note: stream karma by jojo siwa

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mikrokosmos · 5 months ago

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The Gothic in Classical Music History (1760s-1920s)

Intro Back in high school I fell in love with two things; classical music, and Edgar Allan Poe. I’ve always loved Halloween, October, spooky things, ghost stories, horror and slasher movies, etc. And I always loved finding classical music that was also spooky, or dark, or evocative of the same eerie experience of a cold and foggy October day. Thinking about these memories made me want to put together a short list of Gothic Classical music.

But what do I mean? There is no true “Gothic music” as in a specific movement in classical history, because the traditional Gothic refers to literature. Not all art movements have corresponding trends in all mediums. Even so I thought it would be fun to say, if there was such a thing as Gothic music, what would that include?

18th Century

John Henry Fuseli - The Nightmare (1781)

Music of the 1760s-1790s, corresponding with the first wave of “Gothic Novels” in the English language. Some names in this era include Horace Walpole (The Castle of Otranto), Ann Radcliffe (The Mysteries of Udolpho, The Italian) and Charles Brockden Brown (Wieland). The closest we have to music of this same era would be in the Sturm und Drang style. Sturm und Drang (Storm and Stress) was used to describe music written in a minor key that was restless, agitated, intense, emotional, and more extreme than the typical expectations for restraint and lightness/clarity, music that aristocrats in powdered wigs and velvet and lace could relax with. Strong changes of emotion and more emphasis on subjectivity, reflected by sudden modulations and pulsing rhythms.

The most famous piece that I associate with Sturm und Drang is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s “little” g minor Symphony no.25, K.183 (1773). It is famously used in the opening of Miloš Forman’s Amadeus (1984). It is a fun piece, and that opening movement is full of fire, and probably the young Mozart having fun (he wrote it at 17. If you ever want to lower your self esteem, look up what music Mozart wrote at your current age.). Another major work would be Joseph Haydn’s “Farewell” Symphony no.45 (1772), written in the very unusual for the time key of f# minor. And of course, even though he comes later, anything Ludwig van Beethoven published in a minor key has a lot of muscular passion to it, and his early/classical era of the 1790s is no joke. Check out the final movements of his Piano Trio no.3 in c minor and his Piano Sonata no.1 in f minor, or his most famous early sonata, the Pathetique.

But if the Sturm und Drang style and Gothic genre also emphasize the disturbed and the psychological, we can include programmatic works that do the same. Mozart’s opera Don Giovanni (1788) has an incredible moment in the finale. The sociopathic hedonist is confronted by the ghost of the man he murdered in the first act, who possesses a statue and confronts Don Giovanni with his sins. Don Giovanni doesn’t repent, so he is dragged into hell with a chorus of demons. Always a good reminder that Mozart wasn’t the eternal child who wrote pretty melodies.

19th Century

Caspar David Friedrich - The Abbey in the Oakwood (1810)

Music of the early 19th century corresponds better with Gothic fiction because Romanticism in art brought greater interest in the supernatural, in the subjective, in emotional reactions to the universe… major names in fiction include the poetry of Lord Byron (Darkness), Mary Shelley (Frankenstein, The Last Man), and Sir Walter Scott (The Bride of Lammermoor). Greater emphasis is put on the anxiety of the unknown, supernatural fears beyond our control.

Of all Franz Schubert’s songs, Erlkönig (1815) best exemplifies the Gothic (and this is a bold claim because I only know about a fraction of Schubert’s extensive song output). In it, a father and son are riding on horseback. The son is sick with fever. As they ride, the son cries out that he can hear the Elf King calling out to him, some evil spirit or demon that wants to take the son’s life. The father tries to calm him down, but the Elf King gets closer and closer. By the time they reach home, the son has died. Was the Elf King real? Was the son hallucinating from fever? How literal should we take this text? The ambiguity of subjective experiences and how we interpret and understand reality is a major theme in Gothic fiction.

Many famous German operas lean into the supernatural and magical. In this period we get Carl Maria von Weber’s Der Freischütz (1821), considered to be the first Romantic opera. In it, our main character Max who needs to win a shooting contest so he can be allowed to marry his lover, Agathe. He is given a gun that can shoot magic bullets by another forrester Kaspar (who has his own plans). Kaspar tells Max to meet him in the “Wolf’s Glenn” in the woods at midnight for more magic bullets. In the Wolf’s Glenn, Kaspar calls for a spirit, the Black Huntsman Samiel, to help him curse the other characters, offering Max’s soul in exchange. Making deals with demons/the devil was another fascination in Romanticism.

Legends of a diabolical nature were springing around great musicians. At the end of the 1700s, Giuseppe Tartini wrote his most famous composition, the “Devil’s Trill” Violin Sonata in g minor which is full of virtuosic passages. Tartini claimed that the Devil appeared to him in a dream, and that he sold his soul in exchange for the Devil to be his servant. He handed the Devil his violin, and the Devil “…played with such great art and intelligence, as I had never even conceived in my boldest flights of fantasy. I felt enraptured, transported, enchanted: my breath failed me, and I awoke” Source

Similar stories came about with violinist Niccolò Paganini, who astonished the audiences of the early 19th century with his (for the time) otherworldly technique, dazzling them with scales and leaps and scratches the likes of which you can hear across his 24 Caprices for solo violin. A young Franz Liszt was at one of Paganini’s concerts and he was enthralled and inspired to become the “Paganini of the Piano”. He too would dazzle audiences with his percussive intensity, glittering arpeggios, and dreamy modulations to possess women with the spirits of hysteria and other dated misogynistic diseases. Cliche to say but before Bieber Fever, before Beatlemania, there was Lisztomania.

The sense of Faustian bargains comes through in the pieces Liszt wrote after Goethe’s Faust. The Faust Symphony (1857) includes a movement for Mephistopheles, the demon/ the Devil that bargains with Faust. The Mephistopheles movement has no original theme, but takes and corrupts the themes of Faust and his lover Gretchen into a mocking tone. Later on, Liszt was inspired to write a tone poem “The Dance in the Village Inn” or Mephisto Waltz no.1 (c.1862). He also wrote it for piano around the same time. The story has Mephistopheles taking Faust to a wedding in a village and playing the violin so madly, the partygoers are intoxicated by the music and go off dancing in the woods. Emotions taking over and making one act irrationally was another fascination in Gothic fiction.

Liszt would go on in his later years writing a few more Mephisto waltzes, with a lot of forward thinking harmonies and piano writing, unfortunately not as popular. Mephisto waltz no.2 (1881) has moments that make me think of Debussy, and the third (1883) has glittering and ethereal moments. But the best example of Liszt’s interest in the Gothic would be his earlier concert piece Totentanz (1949), or Dance of Death (Danse macabre). In it, the piano and orchestra play out variations on the Medieval chant Dies Irae, always reminding us of the inevitability of death. The variations depict skeletons dancing wildly all while the Mephistopheles at the piano unleashes his seductive tones.

The Dies Irae chant goes across our pop culture, with one famous iteration being a synthesized version of passages from Hector Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique that Wendy Carlos wrote for Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining (1980) after Stephen King’s novel of the same name. And it was Berlioz’s symphony that enchanted audiences in 1830 with new, titanic sounds beyond what orchestra music had been before. In the story of the Symphonie fantastique, an artist has tried to overdose on opium after feeling rejected by unrequited love, but instead he has a vivid drug induced nightmare where he is sentenced to be beheaded via guillotine, which was still a traumatic living memory for the Parisian audience. He then sees himself among ghosts and monsters during a witches’ sabbath, the lovely woman’s beautiful theme is distorted into a grotesque mockery, the Dies Irae comes back among the cackling. It was a new degree of imagination expected from the audience. Later, Berlioz would depict demons in Pandæmonium (the Capital of Hell in Dante’s Inferno) at the end of his Damnation of Faust.

Through the mid to late 19th century we get authors of Gothic literature such as Edgar Allan Poe, Elizabeth Gaskell, Emily and Charlotte Brontë, Nathaniel Hawethorne, and Victor Hugo. We also get two more operas that have Gothic themes. First is Richard Wagner’s The Flying Dutchman (1843). In this opera, a ship on the North Sea collides with the Ghost Ship of the Flying Dutchman who is cursed to sail the seas forever, but is allowed to come ashore once every seven years and if he can find a wife, he will be freed. I’m sure you can guess how this opera ends. The overture is often played in concert for a condensed version of Wagnarian thunder and romance. The next important opera is Giuseppe Verdi’s Macbeth (1847), because Shakespeare was being revived and translated in different languages across Europe and Verdi loved his plays. In the opera, Macbeth comes across a chorus of witches that foretell his success and downfall. He is too ambitious and goaded by Lady Macbeth, plans to take the throne through deception and murder. Lady Macbeth is later haunted with phantom blood on her hands which only she can see. And Macbeth succumbs to his inevitable fate.

We also get two significantly “Gothic” pieces of orchestra music. They are both tone poems, which also reflects the concert goers’ tastes. The one that has always been a quintessential “Halloween classical” piece is Camille Saint-Saens’ Danse Macabre (1875), opening at the stroke of midnight (softly evoked by the harp), a violin shrieks out the tritone (the “Devil’s interval” which the Romantics thought meant was cursed by the superstitious Medievals, really it was an idiom for “hard to use in music”) and introduces ballroom music along with the clacking bones of skeletons dancing in the graveyard (evoked by the xylophone). The skeletons dance through the night until the rooster crows at dawn.

The other great Halloween concert piece is Modest Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain (1867) which depicts another witches sabbath, this time on St. John’s Night, a major holiday in Slavic Eastern Orthodox culture. Walt Disney’s Fantasia (1940) would help bring this poem to life with an animated phantasmagoria of ghouls and skeletal horses and other demons flying around the mountainous demon Chernoberg.

[Here I want to give a quick shoutout to Cesar Franck’s Le Chasseur maudit (The Accursed Huntsman), a tone poem about a Count who doesn’t go to church one Sunday, and instead rides around to whip peasants for his own amusement, so demons drag him to hell. Not nearly as famous a concert piece as the others mentioned in this list but it has colorful orchestration so you should check it out.]

The initial idea for Fantasia was for Disney to repopularize Mickey Mouse by writing him into an animated version of Paul Dukas’ The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. The original poem by Goethe was a classic that Paul Dukas set to music in 1897. In it, we hear the Sorcerer leave his Apprentice to clean the floors of his workshop. The Apprentice uses magic to bring a broom to life so it can do the chores for him. The Broom mindlessly pours buckets of water all over the floor, and the Apprentice isn’t good enough with magic to stop it. He chops it up into pieces with an ax, but they regenerate into several brooms which go back to marching water in. The Sorcerer returns to clean the mess and scolds his Apprentice. This charming tale has a darker and more diabolically fun tone in Dukas orchestra.

20th Century

Harry Clarke - Illustration for "Masque of the Red Death" (1919)

In the same exact year of Dukas’ tone poem, we get Bram Stoker’s Dracula. At this turn of the century other major names include Gaston Luroux (The Phantom of the Opera), Robert Lewis Stevenson (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde), Henry James (The Turn of the Screw), Oscar Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray). At this time, there are a few more pieces that continue trying to evoke Gothic subject matter. One comes from Gustav Mahler’s Symphony no.7 (1905), sometimes dubbed “Song of the Night”. Two of the symphonies five movements are titled “Nachtmusik” (night music), the first is more in line with Gothic anxiety and spookiness than the second which is more like a serenade. But the most Gothic movement is the Scherzo which sits in the middle of the symphony and is like a Viennese ballroom full of dancing corpses and skeletons as waltz music decays with them.

A surprising example (at least, because of how relatively obscure it is) comes from Claude Debussy with parts of an opera based on Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher that he worked on between 1908-1917. Not too much a surprise on the one hand because French translations of Poe’s work became popular and influential. On the other hand Debussy is more known for evocative sound pictures, unique musical colors, and subtlety. Perhaps he was drawn to symbolist and psychosexual interpretations of The House of Usher, the same interests that preoccupied him with his only finished opera Pelleas et Melisande. Roger Orledge reconstructed the opera and tried to stay true to Debussy’s style, so what we do have is passable and as shadowy and vague as his other orchestral masterpieces.

Maybe the hardest work to recommend (but I do recommend regardless, give it a chance) is a Modernist song cycle for chamber ensemble. Arnold Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire (1910) uses freely chromatic atonality to give a demented color of psychosis experienced by Pierrot, personified version of a stock character for old Commedia dell Arte plays, a clown who over time became the “sad clown”. Maybe a precursor to the demon from Stephen King’s It, or the demented clowns and jesters that laugh at the madness of the cosmos across Thomas Ligotti’s short stories.

This was only meant to be a small overview of works that could fit my own view of the Gothic in music. There are more examples I could include, so as a hint toward today, I’ll end with a piece that was written about a century ago, yet sounds as if it could have been written today. Henry Cowell’s The Banshee (1925) is a short piano piece, so if you can, at least listen to this one. Instead of playing with the keys like you’re “supposed to”, Cowell asks the performer to drag their fingers along the wires directly. This creates disturbing reverberations and scratching sounds that tingle the back of your neck, that feel like the otherworldly cry of a Banshee.

Happy Halloween.

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domesticgoddess22 · 3 months ago

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wish upon a cowboy

chapter 6: something to live for

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them.

warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy sex, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst, joel is bad at feelings word count: 4k (chapter 6) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI

masterlist | Ao3 | My Booktower @orcasoul @guiltyaschargedmf @idrkman

a/n: Switching to past tense POV because I’m learning that 1st person isn’t for me. Bear with me and thank you for your patience <3 Also, I am adding a few more tags that I should have added before. ~~~

You learned from an old First Time Expecting book that the first day of your pregnancy is the first day of your last period, which meant you were about ten weeks pregnant by now.

Joel had grown increasingly protective over you. He was hovering over you more, making sure you had enough to eat, enough to drink, and that you weren’t too tired on your journey.

If your feet hurt, he'd stop. You’d swat him away and tell him you were fine, but he was persistent.

Hundreds of giant trees hugged the small clearing you two called your temporary home, a safe sanctuary far enough away from the madness but close enough to town to gather what you needed. You emerged from the tent Joel built for you–and only you because he always slept outside and guarded you like a dog. He had a mug of coffee pressed to his lips and his eyes fixated on a map of the United States.

“Mornin’,” he said gruffly, setting the cup down on the oakwood box, the wet coffee staining his mustache darker shades of gray-brown.

“Good morning.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Some.”

“You need any help with anythin’?” You asked, brows pinching together as you cast a glance over at the dwindling food supplies. You’d just about picked over the town, as much as you could without risking your lives at least. And both of you were having trouble in the hunting department. Joel didn’t want to use guns anymore out of fear of drawing attention to yourselves after what happened at the house. You needed to lay low for a while.

“No.” He said firmly.

Not that it mattered if he put you to work or not. Over the last few weeks, you’ve kept yourself busy with your own projects. Like gathering wood and sticks to make trap boxes. You had about four done by now, and were working on a stick trap now that you planned to set up just north of here.

You learned to make traps back in the QZ and even prided yourself on winning first place in the trap creation contest at your high school. Every kid had to go through a checklist of acquired survival skills to graduate from the academy. Basic first aid, cooking, hunting or trapping, mechanics, and foraging.

It was safe to say that you had very entry-level experience with all of the above, none of which were ever applied out in the field, but something was better than nothing. Now you were well accustomed to trapping, enough to at least catch some squirrels and bunnies to help keep both of you somewhat fed. Still, most of your traps were empty when you checked them. Food scarcity was slowly creeping up on both of you.

Joel watched you from his spot near the fire as you got back to it, working the twine around the sticks to wind them together. Things had been off since you had sex, but never spoke of it and it hasn’t happened again since. Your relationship was bordering on platonic as your conversations usually revolved around day-to-day chores and what you’d eat for dinner that evening.

The lack of connection with Joel left you feeling hollow. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for. It would be ridiculous to assume he’d just be your boyfriend and the two of you would live happily ever after. No, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but you weren’t back to whatever it was you were before you had sex either. And now it’s out in the open that you’re about to be the mother of his child.

Joel’s different moods were giving you whiplas. He was sweet with you one day, taking you on imaginary diner dates and making love to you next to a fire, and the next he was icy cold and barely seemed to want you around.

It stung.

“You should sleep. I can keep an eye on everything.” You didn’t want him to feel obligated to do everything and protect you all the time at his own expense. It wasn’t worth it if he was going to start getting grumpy with you again.

“‘M fine,” he croaked, voice saturated with exhaustion.

“Watcha lookin’ at there?” You asked, jutting your chin out to the map in his hands.

“Plannin’ our next move,” he said flatly, and you expected him to share more but you realize you’re going to have to extract it out of him just like with everything else.

“I think I should have a say in that, no?”

“Like I had a say in when you were finally gonna tell me about my kid in your belly?” He snapped back.

You crossed your arms, feeling his eyes like daggers on you before he dragged his gaze back down to the map. “So you’re mad at me.”

There was silence for a few moments and you started to think that he’s going to ignore you until finally, he said, “‘M looking at the routes to Wyoming.”

“Wyoming? What’s in Wyoming?”

“My brother. Tommy.”

“Okay…” you supported Joel reconnecting with his brother, said so from the start. But right now, your pregnant brain tried to wrap your head around where his thought process was. Two months ago, he never wanted to see his brother again. Then he gets a girl knocked up, stays up all night boring his eyes into a map, and then says he wants to trek to Wyoming with his baby mama. “And then what happens when we get to Wyoming?”

“He’ll know what to do. Wherever he is, wherever he left the Fireflies to be, ‘m pretty sure it’s a place we’d want to be too.”

“Back when Tommy ‘n I were–” Joel flicked his gaze briefly to the ground and then back to you, stopping himself from divulging too much about his past. You both knew that Joel was a raider, but it wasn’t somethin’ Joel let roll off his tongue carelessly. You figured it was a shame he couldn’t bear to hear.

If you were being honest with yourself, it was a truth you didn’t like to think about either. You always thought of Joel as a good man. He saved you. He had good in him. You knew that. The rest didn’t matter if it was all in the past. Right?

Your mind flashed back to all of the dead men back in that house. They had to die, or both of you would have. That’s what you told yourself as you washed the memory back, burying it somewhere deep in the crevices of your mind and shifting your focus to winding twine around sticks.

Joel took another sip of stale coffee. “We planted Tommy in the QZ to help us make some deals easier. Rest of us didn’t live in there with all their rules, so we chose to roam free. Had a ranch outside the city ‘n everything. Then it all went to shit when FEDRA caught Tommy with us and he had to run for it.” He shook his head, probably remembering some fight they had before he left.

“I asked him to stay with us, but… He was done.” Joel continued.

“Whatever happened between you, I’m sure that he’ll forgive you. He’s your brother.”

“I don’t know. But I have to try. We can’t stay out here forever with you like this…” His eyes shot up to your stomach and then back to his cup. He knocked back the rest of the coffee and then propped his elbows on his knees. He wipes his face with his palm.

“I trust you. If you say we need to go, then I trust you. I think it’s a good idea to reconnect with you brother, I always have. I just hope you’re sure about where he is.” You could tell he was stressed by the dark circles under his eyes. This was weighing on him already. “It’s a long journey from here, and we don’t know what we’ll find along the way. It would be a shame if we went all the way there and didn’t find what we were looking for.”

“He’s alive. I know him.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“He’s alive, and he’s in Wyoming. That’s the end of the story.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I trust you.” Whether or not Tommy was alive wasn’t what you were concerned about. You were concerned about whether or not you and Joel would make it alive. You were about to journey through no man’s land. A pregnant girl with no fighting experience and Joel, whose capabilities you didn’t doubt, but he was still just one man.

He took another sip of his coffee and sets the chipped mug down, mustache wet with coffee. “You hungry?”

“Um, not right now.” There isn’t enough food for the day yet, but maybe if you finish this trap…

“How about some eggs?”

“You found eggs?” Your eyes grow wide with excitement.

“Sure did. Got a rabbit too. I finished up some arrows for the crossbow and hunted it early this morning.” He looks proud of himself, and he’s got a right to be.

“Joel.” Your eyes narrowed on the man.

“What?”

“Sleep.” There was an unnatural command to your voice that you weren’t used to, but you couldn’t stand to let him destroy himself.

“I will. Later.”

********

The night air was so cold that it stung the parts of you that weren’t snuggled up inside your sleeping bag. Joel was crouching beside you, shuffling through his pack to find something warmer to put on. You insisted that he get some sleep, but he gruffly refused. Said he needed to keep watch in case any of the nocturnal creatures–or worse–wandered into your camp. He was about as stubborn as the persistent sores on your feet, so you didn’t try to persuade him further.

Joel hovered at the entrance of the tent, brows furrowing in thought as his eyes focused on the corner of the ocean-blue tarp. In the distance, you could see the campfire’s bright yellow waves splashing against the silhouette of branches, jagged arms stretching toward the moon.

The orange glow from the fire radiated along Joel’s profile, illuminating his fierce jawline and the curve of his nose.

“So how long have you known exactly?” Joel’s voice was a gentle whisper, careful not to startle any animals that might lurk outside the clearing.

You sighed, chewing your cheek. Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that you kept this a secret from him. “Just a couple weeks or so, I guess.”

“‘n why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Joel’s nostrils flared slightly. What transpired between you the night before had been a fleeting moment, an eruption of emotions, heat, physical attraction, and the adrenaline from surviving an altercation. You worried that was all it was.

“It’s not easy being a woman, Joel. Especially not now. We never know what to expect and we need to be prepared for the worst.” You began, but you saw the pressing look in Joel’s gaze that reflected his dissatisfaction with your answer. “I was afraid.”

“‘Fraid’a what?” His Texan tang almost sounds mean with the way his voice raises a decibel above a whisper like he’s accusing you of something–and he wouldn’t be wrong in that. He tutted. “Damn, I knew it. You’ve been walking around carrying my child for weeks and didn’t think I should know?”

“I was afraid that you’d leave me if you knew.”

You wished you could engrain the image of his face into your mind, the epitome of utter shock. His face twisted and his nose scrunched in disgust. It confirmed your suspicions that he was mad at you.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Joel. This–” you paused, thinking about the love you have for the baby growing inside you, but knowing full well you can’t offer them much in terms of quality of life. “This isn’t the time to be pregnant. I know back then it used to be somethin’ to be happy about–throw parties over or some shit, and yeah I’d give anything for a chance to live like they did. To have a child in a world where I felt like they had a fighting chance to thrive. To be happy. But now…?”

You laughed through your nose, casting your gaze to the slit of the tent. Trying hard to ignore the growing lump in your throat that threatened to make your voice go squeaky as tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

Hold it in, hold it in, hold it in.

“Wasn’t always somethin’ people planned. Trust me,” he grumbled.

You tilted your head.

“Look…” He rubs his hand down his face and then his eyes flick to you, still searing your gaze into the firepit crackling outside. “Sweetheart… I'm so–I'm so sorry. I shouldn't of taken advantage of you like that, I’m not the guy you think I am. I’m…”

“It’s not your fault, Joel. We’re both adults. We knew what we were doin’.”

He looked over his shoulder and gazed out at the dwindling fire.

“Back then, people had kids thinkin’ everythin’ was gonna be fine. Then the fuckin’ world collapsed and now their kids are either miserable or dead.” He said.

“We could have died back there. What if you had died and they took me? Kept me around to use as they pleased and then disposed of me when I was no longer useful. Maybe they woulda spared me and kept me around and then did God-knows-what to me while I’m carrying your child. You want that for our baby?” There’s something in your tone that’s almost begging for Joel to say he doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want you.

“No.” He frowned.

“I know you don’t want this. And I won’t be mad at you for bein’ honest with me, ‘mkay?” There was no use in pretending to be something you guys weren’t ever going to be. Your eyes watered and your stupid brain thought of that dumb cardboard cutout family from Target. You wanted to rip it to shreds.

Joel’s chest rose and fell. He studied you, eyes never tearing away from yours.

“The second you told me you were pregnant, I realized I had somethin’ to live for. Someone to fight for.”

The tears finally poured, spilling down your cheek. You folded your lips together to hold back the sobs, tasting the salty wetness that coated them.

“Come're.” He hugged you from behind. “We’re gonna be just fine, okay? We’re gonna figure this out. I’ll make sure ya have everything ya need.” He was whispering into your neck.

“I need you to be more careful is what I need. Thought I might lose you back in town. I don’t want to feel like that ever again.”

“Baby, I told you ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to me.” He framed your chin with his hand and angled your head upward. “ Look at me–look. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Even though he was right, even though it was clear as day that Joel had an almost supernatural ability to live like bad, unwatered grass that just didn’t die, you still felt an ominous tug warning you to be careful. That your life with Joel would be comparable to weathering a vicious storm that threatened to strip you of your basic resources. It was a gnawing feeling somewhere deep in your chest, a worrying sensation that if anything happened to Joel, you and your baby wouldn’t be able to endure this life.

Joel held you, one arm slipped into your sleeping bag and curled around your waist and the other draped over the worn fabric of the bag. “Stay and lay with me. Please.”

“No. I need to go out and keep watch. Can’t be lettin’ my guard down.”

“Not even for a few minutes?” You bat your lashes and nibble on your bottom lip.

“No.”

“So mean,” you tease. “So strict.”

“Not that again.” You felt his rumbling voice against your back.

“I just want to help you relax a little. Take the edge off.”

No wasn’t an answer you wanted to hear right now. You subtly rolled your hips against his thighs and he stiffened behind you.

Stubborn man.

“I have more on my wishlist, you know.” You smirked devilishly, knowing you were being a manipulative little brat but you didn’t care. “Stuff I want to do… Positions I want to try…” You pressed back into his crotch against, turning your neck to look up at him. You suddenly felt something hard against your ass. He groaned, hand sliding down to your hip and squeezing.

“Tell me what else you’d want to do that you ain’t done yet.”His voice was dripping with lust as he smiled, his teeth against your cheek.

“I want to make love in a tent out in the woods. All. Night. Long.”

“Fuck…” His lips were on your neck, sucking on the soft skin and lapping circles in between sucks. His kisses trailed up and down your neck, frantic and heady.

You turned your head back around to look at him with hooded eyes, gaze landing on his lips in longing. Then your mouth found his, nibbling and tugging on his bottom lip. He let you play and tease him for a minute before giving in to his carnal urges, slipping his tongue into your mouth and forcing you to swallow his groans.

His thumb and forefinger found one of your peaks, pulling the nub a few times. Teasing you. Then he rolled it and you felt every part of your body tingle. Suddenly you imagined you were back in that cabin. On the floor by the fire, naked for him when he took you that first time. It was the first time you made love that he gave you a baby, and it would be a memory you would never forget.

Joel felt something shift in you as he pawed at your breast and it excited him. He rolled his hips into your ass with need. Demanding hands grabbed the lining of your pants and yanked them down. Then he was pressed up against you again and you could feel his warmth through his jeans. You felt him hard and pulsing with need against your ass.

He teased the entrance of your panties, just above the little bow on the fabric, letting his calloused fingertips tickle your skin in slow, unbearable strokes. You shifted yourself upward a little to encourage him to go further. He chuckled sinfully into your neck.

Joel let his fingers slip into your panties, pressing two fingertips to the little bud. You moaned at his touch and he rewarded you by rubbing delicious circles into you and licking the side of your neck.

He sunk a finger into you and you wrapped around him tightly in response.

“Fuck. You’re tight.” He slid in and out, keeping his palm pressed to your clit as he split you open. Another thick finger went in and you were seeing stars. He fucked his fingers into you faster, picking up the pace as you chased your high. Your back arched in need and you could feel his other arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.

“Come for me. Can you do that, baby?”

You moaned in response and assumed he took that as a yes by the speed of his fingers thrusting into you, pulling the orgasm from you like it was the last thing he would do. Your jaw went slack and your brows knitted inward, locking eyes with the man as he rammed into you like a beast and made you come harder than you ever had.

When you came to, he left your pussy empty and pushed your back down with surprising force. You yelped a little. His hand was pressed firmly on the back of your head to keep you pinned to the sleeping bag while your ass was up on display. Joel was crouched behind you, swiftly unbuckling his belt with his free hand and then tearing your panties off in one fluid motion. You frowned a little, thinking he better not make a habit out of that or else you’d have no choice but to run around without any underwear.

“Baby I can’t keep my cock outta you. We’re gonna have to find some kind of birth control after this.” It was the only warning he gave before he thrust into your heat, growling and swearing as his shoved into you in one long stroke. His fingers combed through your hair gently and then yanked you upward and his chest was flush against your back.

You screamed. He liked the sound of that, growling and somehow burying himself even further into you. Stretching you full.

Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed outside of this tent. The only thing that kept you tethered to this earth was Joel and the fullness of him between your legs. You’d feel pleasantly sore in the morning.

“You’re takin’ me so well, baby.” Joel praised.

His thighs slapped against your ass in a steady rhythm. There was a bruising grip on your hips now that you kind of liked. It made you feel wanted. Desired. Like he owned you.

“Fuck me.” You begged, more than ready to submit to him.

He slapped your ass and you felt your cheek ripple. He slapped it again, and you moaned, but just when you thought you couldn’t possibly be more stimulated, Joel sunk his teeth into your shoulder and rammed into you, cursing each time he buried himself to the hilt.

The man was an absolute animal, but you loved every second of it.

There was something addicting about the feel of his teeth on your skin combined with the sound of his deep growls.

Joel fucked hard and fast, but there were moments when he’d slow his pace and slide into you in long, brutal, strokes. He wanted to keep things going for as long as he could. Savoring the moment that your bodies connected like this. You knew because you felt the same way.

“I want to come together.” You were panting violently as you approached your release. The tight feeling in your core was unwinding and threatening to burst.

“Yeah, baby. Fuckin’ come for me.” His words were hot in your ear again. One hand was firm on your hips, drawing you into him with each pounding thrust. The other hand had your hair wrapped around his palm, angling your head back toward him. “Need to feel you suck my cock in so I can come.”

His pace was vicious. Greedy. Like would take, take, take until he ruined you. It threatened to spill you over the edge. His balls were slapping against your clit at just the right angle and then you were done for. Back arching, walls clenching around him. His cock swelled inside you, pulsing as he spilled himself inside of you. It felt warm and hot and wet.

You loved the way he kissed you. The way he licked you. The way he fondled your breasts, teasing the peaks between his fingers. The way he praised you and whispered sweet nothings into your ear to get you to come undone for him. You loved how safe he made you feel with him, even as he completely ruined you. You loved how he fucked you.

But more importantly, you loved him.

When you were done, he zipped up his pants and pulled a sweater back over his chest.

Just as he was about to leave, you touched his arm and tugged him back toward you, silently asking him to stay. He brushed you off.

“Get some sleep.” His tone was curt. Cold. A stark contrast to the heated, lust-driven sweetness from moments ago.

You were pregnant with the man’s child, yet you still didn’t know what the two of you were. ~~~~ a/n: I plan on turning up the drama and angst, so don't get too comfortable. These two will work things out eventually, but Joel is very damaged and needs to find himself first. <3

masterlist here

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader smut #joel x you #fanfic #the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x preg!reader #joel miller pregnancy fanfic #raider!joel

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arroganceisherfavoritecolor · 3 months ago

Text

Girl Next Door

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ Donnie Darko finally gets his hands on his neighbor...

warnings: sequel, somnophilia, p in v, donnie is kindaaa mean

pt. 1

Donnie saw [Name] at the bus stop, looking at the birds on the ground in front of her. Instantly, he thought of what he witnessed the night before. He had caught [Name] masturbating. His cock was indeed sore from jerking off so much last night, his balls still a little achey. He walked towards [Name] the image of her still fresh in his mind.

"Oh, hi Don!" [Name] chirped, happy to see her best friend. She had no idea that Donnie was fucking himself while watching her through her window. Donnie blushed, the thought of [Names] perfect body flashed in his mind, almost making his dick stand up. "Hey [Name]." Donnie averted his gaze, putting his hands in his pockets. [Name] furrowed her eyebrows, noticing something was wrong. "Is everything ok? You look like you're thinking about something." Donnie looked up at [Names] face. He wanted to tell her that he couldn't take it anymore and that he needed to fuck her, but that wasn't possible. He wouldn't dare risk their friendship. "Huh? Oh, its nothing, i'm fine." He smiled, reassuring [Name]. She smiled, nodded her head, and the two began walking to school.

The day had passed quickly. Donnie laid in his bed, fresh out the shower and on the phone with [Name]. She was talking, as always. Something about Tiffany and Brenda having a fight in Biology? Donnie didnt really know, and he didnt really care either. His hand was currently down his pants, slowly stroking his dick to the thought of [Name].

"Uh huh...oh yeah? Really...fuck- ah fuck! That...that sucks." Donnie wasn't actually listening to a word [Name] was saying. He pictured her sitting right on top of him, her breasts exposed to him and her face flushed with embarrassment. She'd bounce on his dick mindlessly as she looked down at him, drunkenly grinning. He thrusted up into his hand as [Name] continued to blabber on about her day. Either she was really dumb, or she knew about Donnies perversions and was enjoying it.

Eventually, it was time for the two to hang up. Donnie stared out his window, thinking of [Name]. He looked at the neighborhood, the quiet scene bringing him peace. He gazed at [Names] window...her open window. Suddenly, something in Donnies mind clicked. He was going to sneak into her house.

Really, [Name] had snuck Donnie over plenty of times, only to watch movies and eat snacks of course. He knew how to climb up to her window, knew how to be discreet. He jumped up and put on his shirt and shoes, determined to sneak over to [Names] house. He went out through the garage door of his house and down the street. He was met with [Names] tall, oakwood fence. Using sheer strength and willpower, Donnie managed to haul himself over just like the times before. He climbed up the patio roof, and tumbled into [Names] bedroom.

There she laid, her face illuminated by the moonlight. Her hair was sprawled out over her pillows, and her body covered only by a silky nightgown. Her face rested peacefully as she softly snored. She looked like a beautiful statue, her beauty frozen in time. Donnie stood over her on her bedside, taking in the sight before him. Her nipples poked through the thin fabric of the nightgown that barely covered her thighs. As Donnie stared at her, [Name] turned her head and made a sound. It sounded like a whimper, almost a moan. Is she having a bad dream? Donnie thought, wondering what was going on in [Names] head. "Oh...Donnie..."

What the fuck. Donnies face turned a deep red. There was no way this was happening. No way his best friend was dreaming of him. Suddenly, [Name] rolled her hips and moaned. "Oh...fuck Donnie..." her voice was gruff and sleepy, almost drunken. Donnies cock strained in his pants as he thought of the scenario [Name] was dreaming of. It was in this moment that Donnie decided to make his own dreams come true.

He got on top of [Name], careful not to wake her. He leaned down gently and inhaled the scent of her neck. Perfume. Before she went to bed, she must have sprayed the perfume she bought with him at the mall last week. Donnie pressed a kiss to her collarbone. He wanted to kiss her lips, but that might've been too much. He kissed [Names] neck and chest all over. Slowly, he teased the hem of her nightgown. He couldnt help himself from pushing it up, exposing her breasts. They bounced slightly, her nipples already hardening from the cool air that blew through her window. Donnie leaned down and kissed all over her breasts, her chest moving up and down as she breathed.

"Mmm...Don..." Donnie licked and sucked on her tits, her breathy moans only spurring him on further. He kissed all the way down her stomach, until he was met with her panties. They were cute, pink with a little white bow on the lining. And a little wet patch in the middle, most likely from [Names] dream. Slowly, inch by inch, Donnie pulled down her panties. Her pussy was exposed and slick, her clit almost throbbing. He leaned down and dared to lick a stripe up her slit. He earned dreamy whimpers from her lips as she ground on his face. His hands rested on the bed, scared to wake her up if he gripped her thighs. His tongue buried itself inside [Name] when it wasnt flicking her clit.

Donnie suckled and slurped her juices, his face buried in between her thighs and the rolls of her hips. Suddenly, Donnie stopped. This made the slumbering [Name] whine. He looked down at her face that was etched with confusion and lust. He thought for a moment. What would happen if [Name] woke up right now? Would she be angry? Scared? Excited. The more he thought about it, the less his moral compass worked.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he pulled down his pants and boxers. He lined his tip up with [Names] entrance. He pushed forward, slowly to make sure [Name] wouldn't wake. He let [Name] warm up to the feel of his dick, assuming she was a virgin. He watched [Names] face intently. Her brows furrowed together and her mouth opened. She began grinding again. Donnie moved his hips back and forth, in and out of [Names] pussy. He grunted and groaned quietly, still aware of [Names] sleeping state. Suddenly, her pretty eyes shot open. She looked up at Donnie with urgency. "D...Donnie? What- ah! What are you doing?" she asked, gripping onto his strong arms that were on either side of his head. Shit. He'd been caught, he was sure [Name] would push him off any second.

But this didn't make him stop, in fact, it only made him go faster. "Fuck [Name], you're so perfect. Love you so fucking much." Donnie confessed as he thrusted. He put [Names] legs over his shoulders and started pounding her. The limits he'd put on himself didn't matter now that [Name] was awake. "Oh! D-Donnie! Fuck me!" she wrapped her arms around his neck, clawing at his back. Donnie leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to silence her moans in fear of getting caught. "Needed you so fucking bad, for so long [Name]. Always teasing me at school with that skirt 'nd those panties, fuck!" Donnie groaned, a primal hunger in his eyes and words. "Love you so much Donnie! 'M yours!" [Name] quivered under him, her tits jiggling with each thrust. Donnie kissed and sucked all over her as he felt his balls tighten.

With a loud moan, [Name] came violently around Donnies dick, her pussy gripping him with force. He kissed her soft lips again, not wanting her parents to catch their daughter's best friend fucking her. Now that [Name] was satisfied, Donnie was going to use her body for himself. He continued pounding her, one hand gripping her leg and the other fondling her tit. [Name] panted and whined, tears threatening to spill from the overstimulation. "Donnie! 'S too much! P-please!" She pressed down on his pelvis as she whined for him to slow down. Donnie instead let go of her tit and grabbed her wrists. He pinned them over her head, still jackhammering her pussy like a dog. "Shut up, acting like you aren't a fucking whore. You think I didn't see you fingering this pussy with your window all open last night?" Donnie asked, his blue eyes boring into [Names]. She shook her head no as tears spilled. "You're mine now, so I'll fuck you how I wanna." He said, his voice deep and lustful.

All those nights he'd spend in bed after he hung out with [Name], all the scenarios he'd make up, it all led up to this very moment. Donnie was finally balls deep inside [Name], making her moan and whimper beneath him. As he felt his orgasm coming, he thought back to the other day. He was at [Names] house and saw a bottle of pills, she told him that she got on birth control. Donnie smirked, knowing he could cum inside [Name] without worry.

With one final, brutal thrust, Donnie came. He leaned down and moaned into [Names] mouth. "Fuck, I love you [Name]. You're fucking mine." He said in between kisses and pants. [Names] eyes rolled back as she felt Donnies seed warm her up. "Yes Donnie! All yours!" she moaned, her nails still digging into his back and shoulders. Donnie pulled out of [Name] and watched as his cum leaked out onto her sheets. He took in [Names] shaken, fucked out form. He couldn't believe it. The girl he loves, the girl he's always dreamt of, was leaking his cum. He dipped two fingers into her heat and shoved it back inside. "Fuck [Name]. Left that window open just for me, huh? So I could come fuck you?" Donnie asked as he pushed his seed back inside [Name]. All she could do was nod, her eye's fluttering open and shut. She dozed off in an instant, the fucking Donnie gave her wearing her out. He chuckled and kissed her sweet lips, removing his fingers from her cunt.

After putting his pants back on, Donnie left out the window. He made sure to close it from the outside, not wanting [Name] to be in harms way. On the short walk back to his house, Donnie thought of tomorrow. What would [Name] say to him? What would she think? Would they still be best friends? Oh of course! They were more than best friends now, they were lovers...at least in Donnies mind. He nestled into his bed as he thought of [Name]. He stared at her window through his own, thinking of what had just happened. He dozed off to sleep, happy that he finally got his best friend right here he needed.

(wow didnt mean for this to be so long AND take so long to make. i hope i fed u all well!)

#donnie darko #donnie darko x reader #jake gyllenhaal #my fucking man #i wish to eat him

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calciumcryptid · 9 months ago

Text

We Are the Series but Omegaverse Because I Have Opinions™

BEGINNING NOTES:

I haven't read the novel.

This follows my own personal interpretation of the omegaverse.

The characters don't have a scent kink, but the author sure does.

PHUMPEEM

Phum is an omega.

He smells like roses, vanilla, and musk.

Peem is an alpha.

He smells like sea salt, ambrette seeds, and sage (the sea shore).

Phum presented as an omega while he was in another country. Everyone thought he was an alpha like his two older brothers. This delayed his return to Thailand. When he returned home, he crammed his scent under scent blockers. On a typical day, he passes as a beta, and on a good day, he passes as an alpha.

By the start of the series, the only people outside his immediate family who know he is an omega are Toey (who sniffed him out), Beer (who Phum told), and Mick (who wasn't told, but made an educated guess).

By the end of the series, Phum stops using his scent blockers around the group. By graduation, he stops using scent blockers altogether.

As Phum's narrative foil, Peem has no problem with his scent. He was raised in a supportive family and a strong platonic pack.

This may come as a surprise, but their storyline doesn't change until the Volunteer Camp Arc.

Due to PhumPeem's odd mating dance, their biology was very confused about whether or not they were mates. To play it safe, their biology started to view the other as their mate.

Omegas are known for getting territorial (aka, power-boosted) when protecting their packs and mates.

This resulted in Phum nearly throwing hands with Kluen, barely circumvented by TanFang's interference. Fang took Phum aside to calm him down. When Peem heard, he started to freak out about letting his mate feel threatened. This was when their friends realized something more had been going on between them, and they encouraged them to talk it out before someone got hurt.

They are officially dating/courting by the end of camp.

Afterward, Phum takes permanent residence in Peem's lap.

They mated before they got married.

QTOEY

Q is an alpha.

He smells like cedarwood (pencils), oakwood moss, and amber.

Toey is an omega.

He smells like milk, coffee, and sugar (yes, a milk frappe)

Q has a weird relationship with his second gender.

He doesn't hate being an alpha, but people weirdly fixate on it to an uncomfortable extent. Many were displeased when he wanted to pursue art because they thought he should pursue something more alpha-like. Q hates it when he plays into textbook alpha behavior. His friends figured this out, and don't comment on it.

Q was a lone wolf in high school until Peem leaned over during an art elective to ask him a question. Q was (platonically) attracted to Peem's chill vibes, and the rest is history.

Asexual people don't have ruts/heats.

Aromantic people don't have scents.

Aromantic Asexual people don't have either.

However, demiromantic people gain a scent once they are romantically attracted to someone. Demisexual people gain a heat/rut cycle once they are sexually attracted to someone.

Before he started university, Q developed his scent. His friends noticed before he did, and everyone was confused.

Unfortunately, Toey got the worse end of the stick. He went into his first heat late into high school. His omega instincts kicked in and guided him to the nearest omega.

That was Phum.

This is why Toey knows Phum is an omega, and why Phum and Fang protected Toey.

In a twist of fate, scents save the day as QToey started to date earlier than canon because Q connected the scent on the post-it notes to Toey.

They were the first ones to have a pup.

TANFANG

Fang is an alpha.

He smells like amber, vanilla, and musk.

Tan is an alpha.

He smells like mandarin orange, mint, and mugwort.

Instead of punching each other, they got into a full-on brawl.

In high school, Tan was a textbook alpha who was overcompensating. When Pun said he felt unsafe around him he realized he was going off the deep end. The day he left that hangout was the day he saw Fang and Phum.

Fang knew about his affection for Tan; however, he valued his parents' love more. He believed if he entered a relationship with another alpha, he would be considered a failure.

Between high school and university, they both tried dating omegas. It didn't work. They were ruined for anyone else.

When canon rolled around, Fang realized his love for Phum outweighed any love he held for their parents (though he was in the process of letting go), but believed he missed his chance at happiness because he was a coward.

He nearly confessed first when he reunited with Tan.

He nearly cried when Tan confessed his feelings.

Fang keeps his relationship hidden from his parents. He plans for them to find out when their marriage is finalized and they've adopted their second child.

On a side note, I've decided Tan has a lesbian alpha/omega couple as his parents. One is an alpha lawyer, and the other is an omega mechanic. They love Fang dearly, and Fang gets his turn to cry over familial affection.

They're always bathed in each other's scent, to the point people meeting them for the first time get confused on whose scent is whose or what their scents actually are.

Fuck Head Alpha and Head Omega, this pack has two Head Alphas and people get very intimidated about this fact.

CHAINPUN

Chain is a beta.

He smells like mint (toothpaste).

Betas have weaker one-note scents.

Pun is an omega.

He smells like juniper berry, saffron, and seamoss (penguins).

The two had been courting/dating since high school without realizing it. This was a point of suffering for their pack.

Chain: I don't understand why people keep breaking up with me?

Pun, laying next to him in his nest which Chain helped him make: Yeah. I don't know why either. You are a catch. :D

Chain gifted Pun a penguin plushies he keeps in his nest.

Chain: Ah yes, me, my mate, and his six-foot penguin plushie.

They mated before they got married.

Apparently, exhibitionists. Good for them.

They are the second ones to have a pup.

MICKMATT

Mick is an alpha.

He smells like smoked cedar, oud embers, and vetiver.

Matt is a beta.

He smells like fruity cereal.

They met online before they met in-person.

Matt when he learns Toey studied art because of an alpha: That isn't very omega rights of you.

As previously mentioned, Mick guessed Phum was an omega.

Mick: Oh, are you worried about telling Peem you are an omega?

Phum and Beer: You know???

Mick: Yeah. :D

BONUS: BEER

Beer is an alpha.

Fortunately, he doesn't smell like beer (like piss).

He smells like grapefruit, lavender, and silver birch.

He needs a vacation.

#omegaverse #phumpeem #qtoey #tanfang #chainpun #mickmatt #we are #we are series #we are the series

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handsmotif · 7 months ago

Text

some commissions i’ve gotten recently of my our life mcs with their respective LIs!

the first 2 are of ryker last (he/him) during the summer soirees of steps 2 and 3 ^__^

and the last is of indigo "indy" oakwood (he/they/she) being a general nuisance and menace to the halls of golden grove high school with qiu in step 2

art by @aoi1dee @sunflowerpin @mcnuggyy respectively :)

#olba #olnf #olba mc #olnf mc #ryker #indy

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tokischaaaaa · 8 months ago

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a story reader being friends with hamzah before and during 4freakshow? but like reader is like in love with hamzah, but doesn’t want to make it obvious

dumbass 🐀

!hamzah x !latina reader

notes!!: we making y/n and hamzah reallly blind to really obvious shit 🙂‍↕️

warnings: cursing, fluff ig

word count: 3.4k!!!! *longest yet**

y/n and hamzah were newly graduated high school students. they both shared the interest of not going to college, and that’s what led them to meet at a party hosted by a mutual friend.

as for plans after high school, y/n had moved out of her parents place and was living in a hotel room until she could find a place within her budget.

hamzah on the other hand, he was living with his friend, aaron. aaron was working as a streamer, it somewhat paid the bills but for the most part did. hamzah helped by working at a corner market he had been working at since junior year.

however he had admirations for something bigger, something more fun; rather than working at a corner market that had middle aged men come in all the time.

hamzah already had somewhat of a following on tiktok due to his short yet humorous videos. he assumed that the following could be useful in the future if he wanted a job that would allow him to be creative and his funny self.

both of the young adults, who were now free from their guardians, were looking for everything all at once. they both expected to have a great time at the party, but that wasn’t the case.

y/n was found on the back porch sipping her party punch, she couldn’t help but gag every time the red liquid hit her lips.

“it’s like tasting the koolaid man’s werid uncle.” a voice said behind y/n.

she turned around and saw a young man with dark curly hair, a black long sleeve shirt. aswel as baggy jeans and some white airforces.

“yeah more like the creation process of the koolaid man.” y/n smirked.

right there, they kept making jokes about the koolaid man and the horrible punch that tasted like battery acid. they had clicked instantly, expressed their current position in the journey of adulthood.

as hamzah spoke about his admiration for finding a job for creativity and being himself, y/n couldn’t help but become distracted, she couldn’t deny the fact that she was attracted to hamzah.

his courage to come up to her and make such a bad yet perfect joke to spark the conversation between the two was magnificent. and also the fact that he wasn’t looking for a quick fuck or make out session made y/n feel like she struck gold. but she couldn’t deny the fact that she kind of wished he could ask her out or anything!

“what about streaming? you can be yourself then, and you said that you also do the tiktok thing.” y/n proposed playing with her necklace.

hamzah was quiet for a moment then embraced y/n in a tight hug.

“holy shit! your a genius, uhh-“

“y/n,” she smiled

“hamzah.” he smiled back and hugged her again.

the rest of the night was filled with laughter and teasing between the two, hamzah felt as if he found the female version of him, she completed him, and his sentences, she was able to provide him with the little bits of knowledge he lacked when making decisions.

he couldn’t deny that he felt a deeper connection to her, but his charisma bar ran out, he couldn’t ask her out, then she’d think he’d want something from her.

thankfully y/n had sipped enough of the horrible party punch that she was able to have the courage to ask for his number as the party came to an end.

“where you staying at hamzah?” y/n asked as she plugged her number into his phone.

“around oakwood, so like 30 minutes from here. what about you?” he asked

“oh shit! same, kinda. i’m staying at a hotel on riverside right now so i’m like 15 away.”

“wow, how’s that going?”

“it’s a.. expirence!” she laughed.

once the two said goodbye and hopped in their ubers, hamzah was more than excited to text y/n. he was hoping that she sent her real not a fake one, since he had talked her ear off he wouldn’t be surprised if she faked it.

his finger hovered over the send button, he didn’t want to seem desperate, but he kind of was since he had such a great conversation with y/n.

aaron couldn’t help but smirk at hamzahs nervousness over a text. he elbowed hamzah which led to his thumb to touch the send button.

“dude what the fuck?” hamzah groaned.

“i’m just helping you out buddy.” aaron smiled.

y/n had just arrived back at her hotel, she jumped on her bed and fell asleep moments later. too exhausted to check her phone, she could blame the alcohol for her drowsiness but she could blame hamzah too for talking so much. but she couldny blame him, he meant good, the alcohol on the other hand didn’t and would lead to a pounding headache the next day.

the next day, around the afternoon, sleeping beauty y/n finally awoke. she jumped to check her phone as the memories of last night came back into her head, she checked messages and saw the message she was waiting to see

she laughed when she saw his texts that followed, she quickly typed a response to his worrisome texts.

once the two met up, the energy had been restored. y/n and hamzah kept teasing each other , cracking jokes, and making funny noises.

the errand run was a complete success between the two, hamzah was able to pick up everything he needed and y/n was able to pick up on hamzahs likes and dislikes. she was sure to use that information in the future.

as their first official hangout was coming to an end, y/n let hamzah know her schedule as well did hamzah, she showed him her hotel (from the outside), since hamzahs hands were full with groceries. they were going to make sure to see each other again, somehow someway.

y/n became a nervous wreck when she got back to her apartment, she couldn’t deny now that her crush for hamzah got bigger after this hangout. but she decided to push it to the side, not wanting to screw up the connection they already shared.

over the next few weeks, hamzah and y/n would meet up every few days. y/n met hamzahs roommate, and hamzah saw y/n’s hotel. they would talk, a lot. order food and talk for hours or watch tv together. hamzah and y/n couldn’t deny that there was something there but neither of them would say anything about the subject.

as for hamzah’s newly created twitch account, the followers were increasing by each stream. hamzah let y/n know about the success of his streams, but she couldn’t help but realize how long his streams had been getting, they weren’t hanging out as much.

y/n started to get jealous and it was getting harder for her to hide it, she missed hamzah, she missed his presence. however, hamzah being so infatuated with this new freedom he craved he wouldn’t respond to y/n’s texts.

her texts of asking how hamzah was, if he was okay, how stream is going, asking when they could hangout again, would all become ignored by hamzah. hamzah had been meeting new friends through streaming and eventually did group streams with his newly established group, freakshow. hamzah had forgotten about the person that made him enjoy freedom, y/n.

y/n felt absolutely shitty, she felt played, and portrayed as if she was desperate. she thoght she found someone who matched her, she was right in the beginning, but she was so far off. she wouldn’t ghost someone like this and leave them in the dust like this, even if she was busy. she was absolutely disappointed and disgusted in hamzah.

one day while hamzah was streaming he got a call from y/n, it took him by surprise. he quickly realized how long it had been since they had talked. he quickly muted stream and answered the call.

“y/n? hi, how’ve you been?”

“shit, well sleepy.” y/n’s words are slightly slurred.

“y/n are you drunk?” hamzah asked with concern.

“why does it matter to you, your a dick .” y/n snaps.

“what do you mean? are you ok?”

“your blind hamzah, blind, blind, blind! just like stevie wonder!” she yelled into the phone, a hurl could be heard from her, she quickly ended the call.

this left hamzah completely distraught, does he go to her house and see what happened? or does he continue stream?

he decided to put his job aside and check on y/n, he unmuted stream and let his viewers know that he had to leave for his own reasons.

he quickly ended stream and grabbed his keys and drove to y/n’s apartment.

as hamzah was driving towards y/n’s hotel he couldn’t help but realize how he had missed time with her, how he hadnt seen her in a while. he wondered what happened, then it hit him. it was him, he was the reason for the fun that stopped.

it felt like a slap when the guilt hit him. he realized why y/n had called him a dick but not the blind part. as least he knows why he called her one thing, the other thing is for another day, he thought.

as he got to her hotel, the front desk asked who he was to y/n, “frie— boyfriend!” he blurted out, taking himself by surprise.

the front desk woman nodded and let him upstairs. the time hamzahs was waiting to get to her room in the elevator, nerves hit him. he was worried about what he was going to walk into, but he had no choice but to put that aside, just as y/n had as they hung out.

hamzah banged on the door several times, until y/n opened it weakly with one arm and the rest of her body on the floor.

“y/n! shit! what happened!” hamzah said trying to lift y/n up.

“life. and failed expectations.” y/n hummed.

hamzah grunted as he carried y/n bridal style to her bedroom, y/n could’ve melted right there. oh how she wished she was sober to experience this and really remember it.

hamzah laid her on her bed, “shit, what do i get you?” he said under his breath. y/n was now looking up at her ceiling, absolutely fucked up.

hamzah was about to leave her bedroom to grab her some water before y/n asked,

“hamzah do you hate me?”

“no! why would you ask that?”

“you left me, no call no answer.” she mumbled.

“what did you say y/n?” hamzah asked getting closer to the bed.

y/n was silent for a few moments before hurling her brains out, thankfully in a bucket that just so happened to be next to her bed.

“ah shit! y/n here let me help you.” hamzah said trying to pull her hair back.

y/n instantly rejected him, “get out hamzah.” she cried.

“what? what did i do?” hamzah asked taken aback.

“you, your the problem, your the do, get the fuck out!” she screamed.

hamzah knew it was better than to argue with her, especially if she was drunk. he felt helpless, he walked outside her room. his heart sunk as he left the hotel.

as hamzah got into his car and started driving, the memory of y/n calling him blind kept repeating in his head.

hamzah decided to give y/n space, this time with his awareness. he didn’t know what had gotten into her, what caused her to kick him out so aburptly.

as the days got longer for hamzah since lack of sleep, due to the repeating question, “what am i blind to?”

y/n had stopped completely texting hamzah altogether, she decided to stop contacting him and having him in her head. she focused on work, she took more hours so she could be distracted from the time lost from being ‘played’ by hamzah. she was able to rent her first apartment, she was extremely proud of herself, but there was a part of herself that wanted to celebrate this big moment with hamzah.

with work, and now moving she easily became overwhelmed and she developed a cold due to overworking her body. a friend from work had stopped by and told her to not get back to work until she was fully recovered.

though y/n was stubborn she gave in and took time for herself and for her body to fully recover. however it was hard since she still had to keep making trips to the hotel she stayed at previously to move them into her new apartment.

work wise for hamzah.. there’s been a recent spike in viewers for freakshow. so he’s been enjoying making content and building friendships with chase, haley, and claire. some of the clips from their livestreams have gone viral which was great for hamzah but not so good for y/n.

as she was on bedrest, she opened instagram swiped through people’s stories but her throat started to close as she saw hamzahs.

it was a repost of someone’s story, the repost was a video of a girl yelling “i’m in love with hamzah!” and then the video transitioned into a poorly edited video of that girl and hamzah with the words ‘hamley’ across the screen. hamzah placed 🥺🥺🥺 emojis ontop of the repost.

that broke y/n. this whole time she was trying to suppress her feeling of missing hamzah but now she couldn’t suppress it anymore, this feeling now combined with anger made y/n start sobbing uncontrollably. she didn’t even think about questioning the poorly made edit, she didn’t want to ask questions, because all her questionea were answered. hamzah played her.

meanwhile 👀,

hamzah just ended another successful freakshow stream but was still on call with the other 3 members to chit chat.

however the others were talking about something that didn’t interest hamzah so he went on his phone and checked on his story. he decided to dabble on the viewers, it always excited him as the numbers rose, and the witty responses from his followers.

however he felt his throat dry up as he saw y/n’s account. hamzah’s caught off guard and remains silent for a while until chase asks,

“hamzah what’s on your mind?”

hamzah looks up at the camera , “na i was checking my story viewers and i saw this girl that i used to be really close with.”

“so what happpened?” claire asked.

“we used to hang out almost any day we were both free, talk and shit then i got busy with streaming. but like a few weeks ago she drunk called me and then she got sick and i tried to help her but she yelled at me to get out. very confusing.” hamzah shrugged.

“holdup hamzah, was it my story you reposted?” haley asked biting the inside of her cheek.

“yes, why.” hamzah says dumbfounded.

claire, haley, and chase share the same irritated expression towards hamzah.

“why what happened?” hamzah asks

“where you close , ‘close’ with her?” chase asks

“yea we used to hang out every week.”

“you fucked up, big time.” claire blurts out.

“hamzah, did she ever… text you like how was your day, check in on you? possibly tell you deep stuff? compliment you?”

“yeah, where’s this leading to?” hamzah asks

“hamzah she likes you, or did like you.” chase says.

“what do you mean? how?” hamzah cried, not being able to believe what he’s hearing.

“ she trusted yourself !! that’s how!” the 3 scream at hamzah.

“really? i didn’t know if she liked me? i thought she was just being nice.”

“no!” the 3 yell again

“ok jeesh. what do i do now?”

“do you like her?”

“yeah, like since we met at the party our energy clicked. we got along really well but like i didn’t know if she wanted to be more than friends.”

“hamzah your a fucking dumbass.” claire yells at hamzah.

it takes a few moments before everything registers in hamzahs brain completely.

then, he realizes what he has to do.

he quickly says bye to everyone on call and grabs his keys and wallet and runs to his car.

as hamzahs driving to y/n’s hotel it starts to pour hard. as he try’s to run inside to her hotel but his head becomes drenched in the rain.

he runs to the front desk and asks the woman there for y/n.

“sorry sir, she doesn’t live here anymore.”

hamzahs heart sinks.

“however she does stop by frequently to move her items here to her new apartment. here i’ll give you this spare key to see if she’s here.” she smiles.

hamzah is absolutely greatful to the elder woman, “just come back in 45 minutes so my boss isn’t suspicious.” she smiles as she hands him the spare key.

as he’s inside the elevator his heart is racing, he doesn’t know what to expect, he’s hopeful that she’s there but doubtful, he doesn’t want to be late as he was all the other times he was to her subtle hints.

he heads upstairs, to see if her room is open so he can maybe catch her to say something.

as he gets upstairs he can’t see her, he sighs in defeat and as he’s about to leave.

“hamzah. what the fuck are you doing here?”

“y/n i need to explain everything, i’m so sorry, i was so fucking blind, and such a pussy.” he starts.

“continue.” y/n says crossing her arms.

“fuck, y/n i like you, i liked you since i saw you at that party. i saw you weren’t liking it there and neither was i, i wanted to be around you, make you feel better. after time you made me feel great and reestablished a feeling that i haven’t felt since i got out of my house, freedom. but so much of that shit fucked up what was between us.”

“y/n i now understand why you called me blind, i was blind to that fact that your kindness was out of a deep connection we had, a feeling we both shared.”

y/n stayed silent for a few moments before saying, “what about your girlfriend? hamely?” she said rolling her eyes.

hamzah couldn’t help but burst out laughing, “y/n that’s a fake ship name, the group i work with, we made that up so it would add more viewers. it’s all fake, trust. also, she lives in california and has a boyfriend.”

y/n’s stern face dropped. she approached hamzah a year started to roll off of her cheeks.

“hamzah, im sorry.” she said.

“i should be the one apologizing y/n, i should’ve had your feelings into consideration. that’s all on me, let me make it up to you. let me take you out. please.”

y/n stares at him, “you gonna ghost me after?”

hamzah gets closer to y/n, he takes her hands into his, “never.” he says and puts his hand onto her jawline and kisses her deeply.

“again.” she says as she breaks the kiss.

hamzah smiles, his wet curls blocking his eyes but he doesn’t care, he can see clear now, clear that y/n was really his other half, his person.

hamzah holds his arms out and gets closer to y/n, his wet shirt clinging to his body. his smile widens as he gazes into her eyes, feeling the warmth between them despite the cool dampness of his clothes. without saying a word, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a tender embrace.

the scent of rain lingers in the air as their bodies press together, and he whispers softly, "i’ve never been more certain of anything. you’re everything i’ve been looking for, y/n".

“sorry for being such a dumbass.”

“it’s okay, you’re my dumbass, i can handle it.” she smiles.

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #tokischaaahablas

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nightlyrequiem · 8 months ago

Text

The Other Side of Paradise

1) No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Cross posted from AO3

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9, Ch.10, Ch.11

You try to make the best of your life working at a small bakery in a city with rising cartel violence. One slower day, a man starts harassing your coworker. Despite the obvious threat, you stand up to him anyway. Unbeknownst to you, Valeria just so happened to be there to witness it.

A/N- All chapters containing smut will be labeled mature. The fic is fully written with the whole thing on AO3 but chapters on Tumblr will be posted one a day.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Dual POV, Happy Ending, Plot with Porn, Graphic Violence, Inappropriate Use of a Knife, Masturbation, WLW

Valeria sat in her office. Her head lowered and her nose bridge pinched between her forefinger and thumb. She enjoys the power, money, and fear that comes with her position but God, she never thought it would be this stressful or irritating. Los Vaqueros. Alejandro and his sorry excuse for a special forces unit have been a thorn in her side since she came into power almost ten years ago. Valeria takes one slow drag from her cigarette. Smoking is a habit she's been meaning to quite for a while now, but she just can't seem to stop. It's hard to let go when it's so good at clearing her head and just letting her think.

She's doing something good here. Well, she's doing something bad. But she's doing it for the greater good. She's making the city stronger and giving back to the economy. She's no worse than a politician. She blows out a gray ring and pushes a hand through her short dark hair. Sure, she's selling drugs but what's wrong with that? Valeria doesn't get what the big deal is. Drugs hurt people but she's not forcing anyone to take them. People make their own decisions. Supply and demand. If she doesn't do it, someone else will. Why not have it be her?

Valeria taps her short, pink nails on the oakwood of her desk. A whole warehouse of narcotics was raided today. She'll retaliate, Get back at Alejandro. Of course she will. Nobody crosses El Sin Nombre and gets away with it. With the police and most of the military in her pocket her word is law. She makes a mental note to get some of her men to look into the attack. Figure out who participated in the physical raid. She'll make examples of them. Valeria stubs out her cigarette and gets up from her chair with a groan. Stretching and taking satisfaction at the few muffled pops that come from her back. For now, she needs some stress relief.

She takes her time in driving to a bakery. One she's been frequenting since she was a child. El Oasis De Ila. No other bakery can compete with the pastries made in Ila's. Valeria drives through the city. Her city, admiring how far it's come. She passes by a mural painted on the side of a building. Her moniker tagged in the middle of it. She's proud. Las Almas breeds strength and creativity. They aren't called The Souls for nothing. Garnering support from the general public wasn't too hard to do. Funding a few hospitals and schools goes a long way with people. She drives by people who have no clue who she is. She revels in that, too. Her identity is knowledge that only she, and a handful of other people know. There's power to be held in secrecy.

Valeria arrives. Parking a few streets down. She gets out and basks in the warmth from the sun. Ignoring the armed men patrolling down the roads. She leisurely walks into the bakery. There are a few people inside. A gaggle of older women and a young man sitting by himself. Two women flit around behind the counter like hummingbirds, a girl not likely older then sixteen and a woman closer to Valeria's age, you. You disappear into the back as Valeria approaches, presumably to prepare more pastries. Or maybe Valeria is just so intimidating that you'd rather hide.

The girl casts a few nervous glances over Valeria's shoulder as she speaks.

"Hello." She greets. Valeria lazily looks over her options in the display.

"A concha, please." She replies. The girl nods and grabs one for her. Putting it on a little plate and handing it over.

"Two-fifty."

Valeria hands over the cash and takes her concha over to a secluded corner. She sits down, appreciating the dim lighting. Whatever will she do to the people involved in the crime of inconveniencing her? A simple execution wouldn't be enough. Normally it would be, but Valeria has been in a particularly foul mood for a few weeks now and needs to take out all this pent-up frustration on someone.

Valeria notices the man in the corner calling over the girl. She scurries over to him. Anxiously messing with her curly mane of hair. She watches as he leans in and says something. His leery expression and the girl's increasing, obvious discomfort makes Valeria curl her lip in displeasure. She's never had much patience for men. It only dwindled when she went to school with them, and shriveled into nothing when she joined the Mexican Special Forces. The man's body language gets more aggressive. Valeria can only assume the girl denied his advances.

She wills him to not make a scene and draw attention to the bakery. But of course, his ego is larger than his brain. He stands up and grabs at the girl who stumbles back. The older women swiftly leave. She's about to get up and intervene, to save herself the hassle of dealing with the police, when you come out from the front. There's an angry glint in your eye as you put yourself between the man and the girl without hesitation. Valeria can't tell if you are brave or stupid. The man is not only bigger than you, but also carrying.

You look back at the girl.

"You can go home, Elaine, there's no more work to do today." You say gently. Elaine doesn't seem to think twice before walking out the door. Leaving only Valeria, the man, and the bakery worker inside. Valeria sits back down. Curious to see where this goes.

"I don't know or care who you think you are," You start venomously, trembling as you face the man. "But you don't get to come in here and harass people. Get the fuck out." The man- who Valeria finally remembers is called Rojan, bristles. Squaring his shoulders as he advances towards you. You back up slightly.

"You think you're some big hot shot, but you're nothing more than a sad little animal incapable of controlling himself." Valeria is a little caught off guard by the fury in your voice. As if by terrorizing Elaine, he had wronged you personally. "The day someone puts you down is the day the world is slightly better." Valeria thinks you need to work on you insults but considering you're facing a man twice your size she'll give you a pass.

Rojan starts reaching for his gun when Valeria stands up. It has the intended affect because Rojan's eyes dart over to her. She scowls at him. Wondering how he could be so stupid as to shoot a woman in broad daylight. In public. In a bakery on a busy street. Honestly, it's like they get dumber every year. Rojan recognizes Valeria. Not as El Sin Nombre but as 'his' top sicaria. He backs down. The only smart thing this dumb ape-of-a man has done today. He gives you one last sneer before storming out. Valeria watches as your shoulders slump. Maybe with relief but for all she knows you could be into being threatened and are very disappointed that he left.

As you turn and walk back behind the counter Valeria has already gotten up and walked out. Taking her concha to go. She walks back to her car and calmly gets in. Thinking about you. You have a spine. She wonders if you'd make for a good recruit. Probably not, she decides. Something about you screams goody-goody. You're pretty enough though. She's sure she can find another use for you.

#cod mw2 #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza #authors

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