#One day I’ll get a huge empty wall

[novatheastropirate]

Artist in your area? Drawing angels in the wee hours of the morning? Again? It’s more likely than you may think!!

(You can probably see the exact moment this went from warm up sketch to 🏃‍♀️💨🎨 in the speedpaint under the cut!!!)

[maybejj]

BEST WRITER IN TUMBLR!!

what about reader getting bit but it doesnt go through because she was wearing rafes leather jacket like negans

stop i’ll cry omg 🥹 thank you so much! hope this request was what you were looking for!

ALMOST GONE - twd!obx au

cw: swearing, killing zombies, maybank humor in the face of a near death experience lmao

“rafe, i already told you. i don’t want your jacket.”

“too bad. you’re wearing it.” he shot you an annoyed look.

you groaned, lightly banging your head against the car you both were hiding behind. he was exhausting some days.

he didn’t take no for an answer and would argue with a brick wall. most days you hated it. some days it entertained you. right now wasn’t one of them.

“you’re shivering so loud walkers are going to start to notice. do us both a favor and just put the jacket on.” he grumbled. he wasn’t even looking at you while he spoke, too focused on the store across the road. trying to make sure it was clear to walk across.

“fine. but i’m not going to be happy about it. and i’m only doing this because our safety depends on it.” you rolled your eyes and shrugged the jacket on.

it was warm and it did stop your shivering..

“and another thing-“ rafe’s hand immediately covered your mouth and tugged you closer to him, nearly falling in his lap. your eyes widened with anger until he raised a finger to his mouth, telling you to stay quiet, and then pointed to the entrance of the store.

two walkers were shuffling by. you hadn’t even heard them.

rafe’s hand squeezed your wrist where he was still holding you to him. he was tense, eyes narrowed. watching the two walkers roam past.

you and rafe were both silent, not wanting to sound any alarms. the rule was always get in and get out quietly.

you waited 10 more minutes until they were out of sight before crossing the road and quietly opening the door to the rundown store.

the shelves were basically empty but pope had said we hadn’t cleared out this side of town yet so it was worth a shot.

rafe shoved a chair underneath the front door, making sure nothing could stumble in. he nodded to himself then gestured to the first aisle.

“we’ll start on the right and work our way back to the front. see what we can find.”

“it’ll take too long. i’ll go left, you go right-“

“no.”

“rafe, we’ll cover more ground and be out sooner-“

“i said no.”

you huffed, turning to face him, “i’m not asking. i’m telling you. god, could you just for once listen to me and not argue about everything?”

rafe clenched his jaw, arms tensing. he snuck a quick glance around the musty, abandoned store. he didn’t see any other entrances and didn’t hear any shuffling or footsteps. the store wasn’t that big. maybe it would be okay…

“if you see or hear anything…”

you grinned, “knew you’d come around, tough guy.”

you heard rafe scoff as you turned around and started down your respective aisle. it was mainly empty containers, expired food, and kids toys littered throughout the shelves. you kept your knife in hand on instinct.

occasionally you’d hear rafe shifting through his own finds on the other side of the store.

you were just about to reach for a pack of socks when you felt a hand on your shoulder. you turned your head, expecting rafe but instead was met with a decayed, half eaten face.

you let out a scream instantly from the fear of being so close to a walker. adrenaline pumping, you turned around, bringing your hands up to shove it’s chest but it was bigger and kept pushing against you, snapping it’s jaws towards your face.

blood and spit was spraying everywhere, making the grip you had on your knife slip. in a last ditch effort to kill the walker, you shoved your elbow into his chest and raised your hand to it’s head but it took the opportunity to bear all its weight against you, taking you both down to the floor.

you vaguely heard rafe shout your name across the store and a huge crash but didn’t have time to focus when the rotten face lunged towards you again.

this time, latching onto your shoulder and biting down.

hard.

you screamed. this was it. you were done for.

tears streaming down your face, you grabbed the walkers head, your hands easily sinking into the decaying flesh. you put all your strength into pushing it away from you but then you felt its entire body being lifted away from you.

with your chest heaving up and down, you watched as rafe sunk his axe into the walkers head before it slumped over. his wild eyes immediately found yours.

you were holding your shoulder where the walker had chomped down. silent tears still pouring. rafe raced towards you, whispering, “no, no, no, no.”

you shook your head, trying to shove him away but he held your wrists down. he wouldn’t let you push him away this time.

his rough hands started tugging and pulling his jacket off of you. he was clumsy with his actions and his own vision was starting to blur but he couldn’t figure out why.

all he could focus on was seeing if the bite went through.

once he could see your bare skin, his breath caught in his throat. his dirty, blood stained fingers slowly drifted up until he was tracing the outline of your shoulder so delicately and soft you thought you were imaging it.

he stilled.

a sob escaped your throat. you couldn’t look. you knew what you’d see if you did.

“hey, hey, look at me.”

you closed your eyes, shaking your head back and forth. you felt like a child but you couldn’t help it. this was the end for you.

“look. look.” rafe grabbed your chin in his hands and turned your face to the left.

there was no broken skin.

no blood.

no bite.

you gasped. your other hand automatically coming up to the area and feeling for yourself. trying to convince your brain to catch up with what you were seeing.

you looked up at rafe who was leaning back on his heels, breathing heavy.

“i’m not… it didn’t…”

he ran a hand through his hair, hands shaking like he wanted to reach out and grab you. hold you close. “no. it didn’t…” he gulped. that was too close of a call. “it didn’t get you.”

all the tension, the adrenaline, the fear left your body at his words. you body slumped forward, exhausted. rafe looked like he was one second away from bringing the walker back to life and killing it all over again.

you sat in the dark, deserted store staring at each other for awhile until your body finally understood it wasn’t in danger anymore.

once you had time to process what just happened, you let out a nervous laugh.

rafe looked at you like you were insane. his eyebrows raised and furrowed.

“guess i should be glad you made me wear the jacket, huh?”

taglist: @papercranesandinkstains @smokahontas-113

[jijournal]

WEALTHY, WITTY, WITCHES | D.M

Part 1: Crazy Rich... Wizards? Part 2: Wands, Wizards, And Wicked Traditions Part 3: Wealthy, Witty, Witches

Summary: After barely surviving a disastrous dinner with your wizard boyfriend’s parents, you’re forced to endure yet another nightmare—this time, with his ex.

wc: 2.9k

cw: for tha sake of the story astoria is younger by a year, astoria is a fake bitch (sorry to all the astoria lovers), jealous astoria, Druella Black is also perfectly alive in this.

A/N: Omg!! We are almost at the wedding part!!!

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

This was torture.

You were now zoning out as a group of rich, classy girls sat beside you at a long black-and-gold dining table, talking about clothes, shopping, men, and something called a beautifying charm.

You only met her once, but Daphne had already insisted on inviting you to her bachelorette party. In her own words:

"I know we just met, but I really like you and I’ll be thrilled if you come to my bachelorette party in two days! It’s going to be so much fun, and you’ll get to meet all the other amazing girls who’ll be in my wedding!"

So now, here you were—sitting in a grand dining room that could almost be mistaken for a great hall. Pillars of gold adorned the dark oak walls, and you had no doubt those blocks of gold were real. The golden columns gleamed against the marble floor, which mirrored the massive chandelier hanging above the long dining table.

You found yourself surrounded by elegant women who all weirdly looked the same. You swore that half of the girls in this room has their hair up in a bun, wearing a nude lipstick shade, and their dresses colored black, white, and beige.

You wore one of the dresses Draco had bought you in Diagon Alley—a long black pleated skirt and a sleeveless dark green scoop-neck top, paired with matching dark green slingback heels. You stood out like a sore thumb.

Gosh this was dreadful.

"Hi! Y/N right? Draco's girlfriend." you look at the girl who suddenly sat on the empty seat beside you. She had porcelain skin, wavy dark brown hair that's up to her waist, and eyes that match the color.

"Yup that's me!" you smiled at her, your body fully facing her now.

"I'm Astoria! Astoria Greengrass" she said, sticking put her hand hoping for you to shake it. She had this huge smile that's obviously forced, her perfect white teeth glimmering.

"Greengrass? Are you related to Daphne?" you questioned, head titling ever so slightly. Then your hand finally shook hers.

She pulled her hand away and her smile got bigger, grinning ear to ear. "Yes I am! I'm younger by a year."

"But enough about me. I want to get to know you!" she exclaimed, doing a tiny clap of excitement. "How long have you been with Draco?"

You smiled, polite and composed, keeping your posture relaxed. even with the growing tension. “Two years,” you said, and you noticed immediately how Astoria’s eyebrows lifted a little too high.

“Two years?” she echoed, her tone light and questioning, the kind of disbelieving surprise someone uses when they’re hoping they’ve misheard you.

“Wow, that’s… longer than I thought,” she added with a short forced laugh, her hand resting on the tablecloth with practiced grace as she leaned just slightly closer.

You stayed still, your smile steady. “Yeah.”

She gave another sharp little nod, her perfectly styled hair barely shifting. “That’s just… funny,” she said, voice softening into something more intimate, more insidious.

“Because Draco and I dated for nearly two years too. Back before the war, of course. We were… very close,” she added with a meaningful glance, as if you hadn’t quite registered her significance yet.

You didn’t flinch, but something cold curled in your stomach. “I didn’t know.”

She beamed at you like it was a compliment. “Oh, everyone assumed we’d end up together. Our families were thrilled. It all made sense—pureblood lineages, similar upbringings, same social circles. You know how it is.”

You offered a gentle shrug. “Things change.”

She laughed lightly, but there was a strain to it now, something tightening around the edges. “Clearly,” she said, eyes sharp. “So, how did you and Draco meet then? Was it at some function, a fancy gala, or…?”

“No,” you said, your smile pulling wider, warmer, realer. “We met at a park in Muggle London. My Labrador knocked him flat on his back—spilled his coffee, then my dog started to lick his face. Total disaster, honestly.”

Astoria blinked at you, her expression faltering ever so slightly. “Oh.”

“I bought him a new coffee. We talked for hours. It just… happened.”

There was a pause where she seemed to recover, blinking too slowly, too carefully. Then she laughed again, airy and a touch too high. “How… quaint.”

“It was,” you said simply.

She looked away, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, then turned back toward you with a more curious glint in her eyes. “So how are things going with his parents?” she asked, voice overly casual, like she was trying not to sound too interested when she very clearly was. “I mean, you being a Muggle and all… that must be a bit complicated, right?”

You paused for just a second, and it was enough.

Her smile widened just slightly, as if your hesitation had confirmed whatever she was hoping for.

“It’s… complicated,” you admitted, choosing your words with care.

“Complicated,” she repeated slowly, savoring the word. “That’s understandable. Draco was always so close with his family. Especially Lucius.”

“Narcissa has been civil,” you said, carefully measured. “Polite, distant, but not unkind. I think… she’s trying. In her own way.”

Astoria nodded knowingly. “That sounds like her. And Lucius?”

“He won’t speak to me,” you replied with a soft shrug, like it didn’t sting, even though it did. “He made it clear from the beginning that he doesn’t approve, and he hasn’t changed his mind.”

Astoria looked almost pleased, though she masked it poorly. “That must be hard for Draco,” she said, her voice faking sympathy. “I remember how much their opinion used to matter to him—he used to talk to me about it all the time. Lucius adored me, you know.”

You gave her a look that was calm, collected, unreadable. “Draco makes his own choices now.”

“Still,” she said, glancing down at her manicured nails, “it’s not easy, trying to convince a family like them that you belong.”

“Draco never made me feel like I had to convince anyone,” you said simply, and her smile faltered for the first time.

She took another sip of her drink, eyes scanning the room like she was bored of the conversation already, before leaning in again, voice lowering discreetly. “So… does he still get nightmares? He used to wake up reaching for me, like he was terrified I’d disappear. It was… heartbreaking.”

You forced a smile. “He sleeps peacefully now.”

Her lips parted, caught slightly off guard.

You looked at her with a steady gaze. “I guess he’s finally where he’s supposed to be.”

The silence that followed was stiff, heavy with unspoken irritation. Astoria’s expression wavered between disbelief and dissatisfaction, as though she couldn’t quite decide whether she wanted to continue playing the 'nice' ex or rip off the mask entirely.

She exhaled through her nose, straightening her back. “So tell me,” she said after a beat, voice laced with derision hidden under feigned curiosity, “does he even understand Muggle things yet? Like… telly? Or whatever that little card is that opens doors.”

“You mean a keycard?” you asked, smiling politely.

She waved her hand as if the difference didn’t matter. “Yes, those.”

“He’s learning,” you replied, tone light. “He likes television. Got really into one of those long series. Refused to let me skip the theme song. Drives like a menace, though.”

She blinked again, thrown off by your directness.

The air around her fumed with quiet, unspoken frustration. But before she could say another word, Daphne’s voice rang from the other end of the table, cheerful and commanding.

“Astoria! Come here for a second!”

Astoria glanced at you one last time—half glare, half forced smile—before standing in one smooth motion, brushing invisible creases from her skirt, posture as perfect as ever.

As she turned to walk away, you caught her muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Two years with a Muggle.”

You just lifted your water glass and took a sip, hiding your grin behind the rim as you watched her retreat across the glittering dining hall.

This was definitely not the night you’d imagined—but at least now, it was a little more fun.

⸻

“Sooooo, did you ever plan on introducing me to Astoria?” you said cheekily, eyes squinting, mouth in a dramatic frown as you dropped your purse onto the ornate armchair near the fireplace.

Draco looked up from where he was loosening his cufflinks, perched on the velvet settee in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor. He blinked, as if the name took a second to register. Then his brows lifted ever so slightly.

“Astoria?” he echoed slowly.

You folded your arms, waiting.

Draco sighed and leaned back, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.”

You narrowed your eyes. “So you did plan on keeping her a secret forever, then?”

“I wasn’t keeping her a secret,” he said, sitting up straighter, running a hand through his hair. “It just… didn’t seem important. That was ages ago. Hogwarts-era. Practically a different life.”

“She told me you used to wake up reaching for her in your sleep,” you said, arching a brow. “That doesn't exactly scream 'unimportant.’”

Draco groaned and stood, pacing a few steps before stopping in front of you. “That girl thrives on drama. She always has. She wants to remind everyone of what could’ve been, just to feel like she’s still relevant in my life. But she’s not.”

You watched him closely, studying the tired set of his jaw, the way his shoulders tensed as if he expected you to press harder. So you softened—just a little.

“She was testing me,” you said quietly. “She wanted me to feel small. Like I didn’t belong.”

His face darkened at once. “Did she say something to you?”

“Not directly,” you said with a light shrug. “She didn’t have to.”

Draco cursed under his breath and turned away, fists clenching briefly at his sides. “I should’ve warned you. I didn’t think you’d be ambushed like that.”

“I handled it,” you said simply, and when he looked at you again, your expression was steady.

That made his lip quirk. “Of course you did.”

You stepped closer, your voice dipping. “But it’s hard enough already with your father pretending I don’t exist. I didn’t need an ex-girlfriend parading around like she’s still the future Mrs. Malfoy.”

Draco reached for your hand, grounding you both. “She’s not,” he said firmly. “You are.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and his grip tightened, just enough to anchor you.

“I mean it,” he went on, quieter now. “I didn’t choose her. I chose you. I keep choosing you. Even when it’s hard. Even when they don’t approve."

You swallowed hard, your throat tight.

“I know,” you said after a beat. “I just needed to hear you say it.”

He pulled you into his arms, his chin resting lightly atop your head.

“She hates that I’m happy,” he murmured into your hair. “That’s all this is. She thought she could shake you.”

You smirked against his chest. “I think I shook her.”

Draco let out a low laugh. “I don’t doubt it.”

You leaned back slightly to look at him. “Next time, I want a heads up before I walk into a social trap filled with pureblood peacocks and their horrifyingly symmetrical faces.”

“Deal,” he said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Though I have to say… you looked like you were enjoying yourself near the end.”

You gave him a wicked grin. “Just a little. Her eye twitch was a highlight.”

“She twitched?” Draco’s smile split wider. “I’m so proud of you.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed anyway, resting your forehead against his. “You owe me dinner. Something greasy. Muggle-style.”

“Anything,” he promised.

And for a moment, the rest of it—all the whispers, the stares, the bloodlines, the judgment—faded into nothing.

Because he chose you.

And he always would.

⸻

The morning light filtered into the drawing room, catching on the carved edges of the mantel and the polished floors of Malfoy Manor. You were curled in an armchair near the tall windows, Draco’s oversized shirt hanging off your frame, tea warm in your hands. The manor was quiet, unusually so, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the illusion of peace.

That is, until the echo of sharp heels clicked purposefully down the corridor.

Draco tensed before the door even opened, halfway through buttoning his shirt. “She’s early,” he muttered under his breath, glancing toward the hallway like he could delay her arrival by sheer force of will.

You straightened a little. “Who’s early?”

He didn’t get the chance to answer. The door swung open with barely a sound, and in swept a woman who carried herself like the room belonged to her—which, knowing this family, it probably once had. Regal and composed, dressed in deep lavender robes embroidered with constellations in silver thread, she had the unmistakable look of someone who had never once asked permission to speak.

Her sharp eyes scanned the room before they settled on you, expression unreadable.

“Draco,” she said smoothly, voice like velvet over ice. “You didn’t tell me your little guest was so charming.”

You stood instinctively, setting your tea aside, uncertain whether to curtsy, shake her hand, or just vanish through the floor.

Draco managed a stiff, “Good morning, Grandmother,” the edge of tension in his voice making your spine straighten further.

Druella Black. Even her name sounded like it belonged in a history book, one with bloodstains on the pages.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” you said, trying for polite but steady. “I didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

“I rarely announce myself,” she replied, sweeping into the room without waiting for an invitation. “That’s half the point.”

Without asking, she settled into the armchair across from you, her posture perfect, hands folded over one knee. Her gaze flicked over you again, like she was peeling back every layer of your thoughts.

“You have a good presence,” she said after a pause, eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “You hold your space well. That’s rare these days. Most girls fidget. Shrink. Apologize for existing.”

You gave a careful smile, sensing a trap and stepping around it. “Being underestimated has its advantages. People rarely guard themselves when they think you’re not a threat.”

Her lips quirked faintly, almost like approval. “Indeed.”

“I watched you at the party yesterday,” she continued, reaching for the cup of tea that had just appeared beside her—house-elves always knew when she arrived. “You didn’t flinch. Not even when Astoria tried to bait you.”

“She wasn’t exactly subtle,” you replied, tone dry.

“No, she never was. Pity. I had such high hopes for her when she was little. But she grew up soft. Whiny.”

You raised a brow. “Entitled.”

Druella actually chuckled at that, a soft, dangerous sound. “I like you. Most girls in this world either stay silent to keep the peace or snarl to prove a point. You’ve done neither.”

You tilted your head, curious. “What do you think that says about me?”

“That you think before you speak. That you aren’t desperate for approval. That you have a spine,” she added, her voice almost pleased. “Which is more than I can say for most of the society girls who’ve wandered through these halls.”

You didn’t reply right away, unsure how much to let show.

“I don’t trust easily,” she said then, as if sensing your hesitation. “But I know what I see. And I see that my grandson looks at you the way Lucius looked at Narcissa.”

That made your breath catch. Druella’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Love,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

To your surprise, you and Druella ended up talking for nearly an hour. Just the two of you, with Draco excusing himself to give her space—or perhaps bracing himself for disaster.

But it never came. Instead, you spoke about everything from magical theory to literature, to the ancient portraits lining the corridor walls, some of which she personally remembered posing for. She asked about your opinions, challenged your logic, and occasionally smirked when you held your own.

She may have been the only one in Draco’s family who seemed genuinely happy to meet you.

When she finally rose to leave, she took your arm without ceremony, letting you walk her to the door in a silence that felt earned rather than forced. Just before she stepped outside, she gave your wrist a light squeeze.

“You’ll do,” she said, her voice soft but certain.

You watched her disappear down the drive, her figure shrinking into the sunlit morning until it vanished.

When you returned to the drawing room, Draco was still seated where you’d left him, watching the doorway like he was trying to decide whether or not the house had burned down in his absence.

“She liked you,” he said slowly, voice full of something halfway between awe and confusion.

You smiled faintly, settling back into your seat. “Is that so shocking?”

He blinked. “You talked to her. For an hour.”

“She didn’t hex me,” you pointed out.

“She once hexed a Ministry official for standing too close to her peacocks.”

You snorted. “Then I’m making progress.”

Draco leaned back, eyes narrowed as he watched you. “She never likes anyone. She barely tolerates Mother. I thought she’d hate you. I thought—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair. “I thought she’d say something horrible.”

“She didn’t ask questions. She just talked to me like—like a person.”

“She must be slipping,” he murmured, but there was a note of reluctant amusement in his voice.

You smiled into your tea. “Maybe I’m just irresistible.”

He smirked. “I already knew that.”

Neither of you knew, of course, that there was still one thing Druella hadn’t discovered—something that, for now, remained quietly unspoken.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

[beomev]

𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆, lee seokmin

석민────𝗂'𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝘃𝗶𝗿𝘂𝘀

𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗸𝗺𝗶𝗻 x reader ⠀⠀⠀⠀─── ⠀⠀⠀⠀𝘄𝗰 0.7k ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 fluff, established relationship ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀 nicknames, reader is called 'love', self indulgent, subtle mentions of parental neglect and personal struggle, reader is in their mid twenties, reader has a job, mentions of food ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 happy virus by dk ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 just a short little self indulgent drabble ⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂋 ⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲

You were never the kind of person to go all out for birthdays, hell, even celebrate them. It wasn’t a tradition your family abided by, so you grew up considering them as normal days, nothing too special. 

You’d always feel envious, though, looking at your friends’ extravagant birthday parties — their fancy clothes, huge hall decorated with every corner, and overflowing with people and their chatter. You’ve always wished you had a party, not anything too special – just a small cake with a candle, that was more than enough.

You groaned as you looked past the small digital clock on your table – 11:49 pm. It was just horrible how they made you work overtime, and a day before your birthday. Well, a few hours.

You stand upright, stretching your hands and forcibly yawning. You look around to see nothing but the dim lights – the room was empty. It was only you, only the clicks of your keyboard were heard. Additionally, a few yawns and sighs here and there. You grab your bag after grabbing your coat, which was hanging on your seat. You make your way towards the exit, scanning your ID on the way out.

“Overtime again, miss?” you hear the security guard speak.

“You know it,” you chuckle in response as you make your way towards the front gate.

You hear your phone chime as you leave the area. 

“Sorry, love, I can’t pick you up today. My car broke down :(“ you read.

You reply, assuring him that you had already gotten on the bus. You lied. You were still about 7 minutes away from the bus stop.

After around 15 cold minutes, you get on the bus that had arrived and take a seat in the back. You noticed that the bus was rather empty. Well, you’d assume it to be at midnight. You rest your head on the window, glancing at the changing scenery as the pace of the vehicle changes. You suddenly feel at peace as the rain slowly drenches the houses outside.

You loved the rain. You loved to fall asleep to the sweet lullaby of the rain. The rain kept you company when no one else did; it felt more like a sense of security to you. Maybe it was because of how it remained a barrier, a wall between you and your struggles, any pain you felt.

You get off the bus as you see familiar sights, thanking the driver on your way out. You walk towards your appointment, feeling relieved to have survived yet another day. 

You make your way towards the front door, shoving your keys into the lock with one hand as you stumble trying to take off your shoes with the other.

Pop!

You almost flinch at the sudden noise and action as if an intruder had taken control of your now not-so-calm home.

“Seokmin..?” you gasp as you eye the confetti all over your clothes. “What is this..?”

“Oh! I wanted to celebrate your birthday with you,” he replies, flustered as he rubs his nape. “Look! I’ve got a cake – your favourite too!” he rushed as he pushes you back, leading you to the birthday set up he had made himself.

Colourful streamers, balloons with confetti inside, a huge “Happy 26th Birthday!” sign, and a cake.

A red velvet one, your favourite.

You kneel in front of the table with your cake on show and pat the space next to you. Seokmin takes it as a sign and takes a seat next to you. He opens the packet of candles and positions them on the cake, trying not to ruin the writing. 

“I’ll be right back,” he chimes as he practically sprints to grab the lighter.

He lights the candle and keeps a knife on the table.

“Make sure to make a wish!” you nod. After you do, you blow out the candles.

“What did you wish for?” he asks as he provides you with his undivided attention.

“I can’t tell you! Or else, it won’t come true,” you tease.

“I can make it come true!” he sulks as he scoots closer to you.

“No, you can’t!”

You’re grateful to say the least. Your first birthday party with decorations, cake, and the idiot you love.

ㅤ⠀ㅤ ིྀㅤtaglist: @daydreamnet @blossomnet @k-films

ㅤ⠀ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ﹔℘๋࣭ ⭑ send an ask or just comment to get added

[loves1ckmoth]

NEW TATTOO

Non-WLF!Abby x Reader

Warnings ♡: fem reader, they tease and argue in the beginning, reader has an attitude, they cuddle at the end, reader gives Abby a stick and poke, Abby gets her dad's birthday and name tattooed, my babies

Word count ♡: 1169 (heh)

Your day had been long, and with the storm outside, you were sure the night would be even longer. Abby sat beside you like she always did before bed. Tonight, she was sorting through everything you had gathered from the town you ran across today. She frowns as she takes out a plastic bag of ballpoint pens.

“Did you need to grab these?” She grumbles, inspecting them. “Of course I did! How else am I supposed to cover your arms with tattoos?” You say jokingly, but the way she eyes you tells you that she does not take it as such. “How the hell would you tattoo me with these? Don’t they use a different ink? And a whole gun?”

You roll your eyes and snatch the bag from her, pulling one out. “You take out all the ink from these and put it into something. I like to use those old bottle caps from sodas. Then, you take a needle or something of the sort and stab a pattern onto yourself.

She looks disturbed, shooting you a weird look. “That doesn’t sound right at all. Isn’t there ink poisoning and infections from the needles? I wouldn’t trust you within five feet of me if you were going to do that.”

You groan, leaning over and falling into her lap. You press the back of your hand to your forehead, whimpering in faux pain. “You wound me… Implying I would hurt you… You’re so awful to me.” Once you’re finished whining, you peek up at her to see her reaction. She’s not amused.

“Are you quite done?” She says snarkily, and you sit up. You roll your eyes and she wants to smack you upside the head for your attitude, but the way your mouth quirks up and she can see your smile lines after teasing her makes it bearable. “Why can’t you be fun? I’d only do something simple. I’ve done it to myself before and I turned out fine.” She raises a brow and looks you over as if to say, ‘Did you?’ “I did, dammit!” You shout.

She finally grins, grabbing her stomach as she starts to laugh. It stuns you. All you can do is watch and stare. Her eyes crinkle at the corners and her nose scrunches. Her hair flies over her shoulder as she leans back. Was it that funny? As her laughter dies down to soft heaves and she rubs tears from her eyes, she looks back at your starstruck expression.

“‘M sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I shouldn’t laugh at you.” She says as she finally manages to recuperate. You frown finally, leaning back against the wall and studying the pen that’s still in your hands. “So you won’t let me do it?” You ask softly. She leans back with you, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m just wary. I don’t want to get sick or hurt from it. But where would you put it? What would you put?” You also take a moment to think before tilting your head to face her. You like it when it’s quiet like this. Despite your fear of the storm taking down the house you’re staying in, you like the way her nose looks against the dark, rainy window. You wanna reach out and touch it? It’s not like it’s normal for you to poke her randomly but this time would feel too intimate.

“I’d like to put something on your arms. They’re so big and bulky and empty. I don’t want to do your stomach, That hurts a lot more. As for what… I’m not sure.” She hums quietly, messing with her arms as your gaze drops down to them. They might be your favorite part of her. The way they’re so huge, the way the muscles underneath ripple when she chops them, the way they feel around your neck and you start getting lightheaded… Yeah. You like it all.

“Do you have any quotes from books you like? Or maybe a name or a date?” You ask softly. A strange haze drops over her eyes and her brows furrow. She looks concentrated. “A date and a name. On my arm. Would you do that?” Even if you weren’t over the moon about doing it, you know you wouldn’t be able to tell her no. Not when that familiar mournful look takes control of her face.

“Of course, I would. Is it him and his birthday?” She nods solemnly. You don’t need to say his name. You both know. You’re sure if you said her dad's name aloud she’d finally break down in front of you. Out of all the walls she erected, most have fallen except that one. You want to see her finally surrender it all into your hands, but you’ll wait patiently for it. It feels better like that.

“I saw a soda bottle outside earlier. I’ll clean it up in the rain. You can use that spare needle from the sewing kit in my pack.” She says as she gets up and you’re quick to follow orders. Her bag is a maze to navigate and it frustrates you every time you have to look in it. You’re convinced only she can navigate it.

Once she’s back with the bottle, you’ve managed to find the needle. She sits in front of you as you get the ink from the pens into the cap. She rolls up her sleeve for you and places it in your lap. You gently draw out the date and her father's name with one of the pens that’s still intact.

You hum quietly, offering a gentle hand as you get to work on her. She likes the way your brows furrow as you concentrate and watching you stick out your tongue manages to distract her from your arm. It begins to come out nicely and she’s pleasantly surprised.

You pull back after a while and stretch, your body trembling. She bites the inside of her cheek as your shirt rides up, barely constraining herself from grabbing your midriff. “You done?” She asks quietly. When you nod, she takes her half-asleep arm off your lap and looks it over.

You study her face, waiting for a response. “Is it any good?” She huffs, barely holding back tears. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” You smile brightly, incredibly proud of your work. You clean up the space as a bright flash floods the house. She holds up a finger to silence you as she counts the time until the thunder comes, making the house shake. She sighs in relief once it passes. “It’s a ways away. We’ll be fine for the night.”

She moves with you now, helping set up a pallet on the floor next to the dying fire. Once it’s all laid out, she grabs you by the hip and pulls you into her. “Lay down and rest. Let me help you sleep.” You let out a soft breath and melt into her, finally collapsing for the night.

Hi everyone!! Back with Abby again because I missed her ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა ♡♡ reblogs and likes are the most appreciated ♡

[peachhcs]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do an imagine where Will and Samy are maybe at the lake house or this could be when they were in high school and there is a spider or mouse in her room and she makes Will catch it and then stay with her the rest of the night. Maybe also Jack, Luke, and Quinn told her to just go to bed and to stop being dramatic but Will saves the day.

guys i’ve underestimated how busy i am so i’m sorry i haven’t been as active 😔😔 i’m trying really hard to get through the requests so if i answer any that were from so long ago i promise it’s not intentional

au masterlist

“jack! jack!” samy whispered yelled into her brother’s door. she stood nervously in the hallway waiting for him to open the door while glancing back at her own room down the hallway.

the door cracked open, “what?” jack asked in annoyance.

“can you come into my room for a second? there’s like a huge fucking spider in there,” samy rushed out, worried that the eight legged creature was crawling across her wall.

“samy, it’s 1 in the morning,” jack groaned.

“please? jack it’s too high and i don’t wanna kill it,” the younger girl pleaded, but her brother wasn’t budging.

“you kill it. you’re literally fifteen,” maybe if they were still 6 and 10, but samy wasn’t a kid anymore and jack fully knew she could kill the bugs in her room now.

“j, please. it’s freaking me out. it’s fucking huge,” the brunette begged, but jack wasn’t having it. he was exhausted and did not think this warranted getting woken up for.

“no, you’re being dramatic. just grab a paper towel or some shit,” the boy shut his door before samy could say anything else.

samy stood there in the quiet hallway in shock that jack just closed the door on her face. the girl frowned before moving onto the next door which was luke’s room. she figured him and will were still awake considering they never slept during the summer like ever. she knocked and prayed one of them would answer.

to her relief, the door cracked open and luke poked his head out. “what do you want?”

“can one of you please, please come kill a spider in my room? it’s literally fucking huge,” samy begged and of course, luke rolled his eyes.

“seriously sam? it’s a spider,” he complained like jack did minutes ago.

“please, it’s freaking me out. i can’t kill it. it’s too big,” samy pleaded and that’s when will finally gave in.

“i’ll kill it,” the blonde got up from the chair he was in.

“dude, we’re in the middle of a game,” luke complained.

“it’ll take like two seconds,” samy smiled gratefully at will as she led the hockey player back to her room. they heard luke’s door close and him mumble a whatever.

the girl slowly crept back into the room, her gaze scanning for wherever the demon went.

she found the thing stuck up in the corner and immediately clutched will’s arm. “see?”

it really was big. the body had to be the size of a piece of broccoli. will’s eyes wine ed when he laid his eyes on the insect, “holy shit you weren’t kidding.”

“i told you! it’s huge! there’s no way i can kill it with a paper towel,” samy cried and freaked even more when it moved a few inches.

“okay, okay, i can do it. give me a cup,” will determined. the younger hughes handed him one of her empty plastic cups and watched a bit fearfully as he slowly shuffled forward so he could stand up on her bed to reach.

“if it falls i’m gonna scream,” she so badly wanted to close her eyes but she knew she couldn’t.

“it won’t, i promise,” the hockey player carefully climbed onto samy’s bed, his movements slow and deliberate as to not spook the big spider.

samy nervously watched will slowly raise his arm with the cup in his hand. he zeroed in on the creature, his own fearful expression on his lips, but will knew he had to be brave for samy’s sake.

the two were dead silent as will carefully closed the cup around the spider. he hit the cup against the wall with a loud smack and samy couldn’t help her scream.

“got it!” will exclaimed. “give me a piece of paper,” he urged and samy quickly handed him notebook paper. he slid it between the wall and the cup to allow himself to ease the plastic cup away from the wall.

“throw that thing outside,” samy quickly pushed him out of her room.

will ran downstairs to dispose of the big creature while samy scanned her walls for anymore unpleasant bugs. will came back a moment later with two free hands.

“all gone!” he smiled.

“thank you. sorry for bothering you guys. i just got really freaked out,” the brunette frowned. she was glad the spider was gone, but it left a very erie feeling across her skin because how did a spider as big as that one even get into her room?

“it’s fine. that was a huge spider. i thought you were being dramatic,” will teased a bit and samy rolled her eyes.

“do you mind hanging around for a second? i need to like calm down from that,” the girl laughed nervously as she sat on her bed to calm her thoughts.

it was clear she was not a huge fan of bugs like that.

“yeah, sure,” will smiled and joined her on the bed.

samy’s heart was racing, so she tried taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. will watched her, not realizing how freaked out the girl got until now and he suddenly felt a little bad.

“remember when we were like 11 and our parents took us to the zoo and i completely started crying over the gorillas because of that one kid that fell into the enclosure?” the blonde said mostly in hopes that it would take samy’s mind off of the large spider.

“oh my god, yeah. you sobbed in front of everyone and no one could make you stop,” samy giggled.

“probably not my best moment,” will laughed too.

“it was soo funny though. it proved you had empathy though,” the girl poked him with a smile.

the two talked for a bit longer until at some point samy fell asleep without even realizing, except she had fallen asleep on will. the blonde flushed and felt bad leaving after seeing how freaked out she was, so he decided to stay. luke would be able to live without him for a night.

frankly, that was probably the best sleep will’s had all summer because he wasn’t staying up all night for once playing video games. plus, samy’s bed was way more comfortable than luke’s trundle pull out bed.

[stevesjockstrap]

I Can Tell You Miss Me

Rated E • wc 1800 • preseries-S1, getting together, sneaking around, fuck buddies, top Eddie :)

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember: sneaking around + @steddiesongfics: I Like The Way You Kiss Me - Artemas

Eddie yelped as he was yanked by his collar and pulled into an empty classroom. He almost ducked and swung on instinct but then his mouth was overtaken by insistent soft lips. The now familiar scent of hairspray and expensive cologne assaulted him and he relaxed further.

I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me

Eddie smiled into the kiss and quickly swapped their positions, groaning softly when the other immediately yielded to him, allowing him to press them against the wall and take over.

Breaking apart with a gasp a few minutes later, he couldn’t believe his luck that Steve Harrington was looking at him this way.

“Mmm, missed you, Eds,” he breathed as Eddie dragged his teeth over the hinge of his jaw.

“I know, Stevie boy. I wanted to jump you the second I saw you this morning.” He sunk both hands into the perfectly styled hair. He loved dirtying up the pretty boy, sue him.

Steve whined but didn’t stop him, allowing him to ruffle his shockingly soft hair.

“Can you come over tonight?”

Eddie froze, trying to meet Steve’s eyes but he avoided him, biting into his lip. Eddie couldn’t get any words out, so Steve continued.

“I-it’s, you know, my parents are going out of town again. Usually I’d throw a party, but then I realized the only person I really wanted to see was you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and he clenched his jaw to keep it from actually dropping. Play it cool, Munson.

“Oh, I guess I could swing by,” he managed, sounding a lot less affected than he was, thankfully.

“Cool,” Steve replied, trying to shrug casually. “Awesome,” he nodded and then seemed to realize they were still pressed against each other, his hands sliding confidently between them.

This thing had actually started at a party at the Harrington house. Eddie had been bored, suggesting to Jeff that they crash and see how much free alcohol they could pilfer from the rich kids before they were kicked out.

But Steve had shocked them. He just smirked as they filled their cups from the keg in the dining room, holding up his own plastic cup in a silent cheers.

Later in the night, Eddie had been even more surprised when he’d walked into one of the bathrooms to an eyeful — it hadn’t been locked, in his defense — and Steve leered at him as he slowly zipped up. “See something you like, Munson?”

He’d tried to seem nonchalant but the way his eyes couldn’t leave Steve the rest of the night must have shown his cards.

Steve pulled him under the bleachers after third period the next day.

The first time he’d sunk into his tight heat, Steve had looked up at him with his huge wet doe eyes and shuddered.

“Is it too much?”

Eddie received a short shake of his head and a gasp as he pulled back a bit.

“N-no, just- ah, you’re inside of me,” he breathed.

The unbelievable surge of want and the need to keep him safe, to bundle him against his chest and never let go hit him like a fright train.

All he could manage was a weak, “I sure am.” He let himself stare at where they were connected, pushing forward again roughly, making himself shrug off the clenching of his heart.

Not tryna be romantic, I’ll hit it from the back

Just so you don’t get attached

He’d had to step back a bit, for his own sanity. Get a little distance between them. Remind them both that this was just sex. Eddie made sure they were never in that position after that. He couldn’t trust himself not to fall into those wide expressive eyes. To make mountains out of molehills, to create feelings that couldn’t possibly be there.

It wasn’t easy, Steve hadn’t made it easy, using his biggest puppy eyes until Eddie had had to get rough, shoving him over whatever surface. Pulling his hair, covering his mouth, anything to make him forget about kissing him as he fucked into him. To keep his eyes from making promises he couldn’t keep.

Their sporadic make out sessions during school became almost daily, until their senior year. Eddie should’ve known it was too good to be true. It wasn’t like they were even dating. Not even friends with benefits. Fuck buddies, really. It shouldn’t have been such a punch to the gut.

Nancy Wheeler wasn’t even hot, and definitely not anywhere near good enough for Steve. He chose not to dwell on the clear similarities between her and himself. Not part of the popular crowd, gangly limbs, dark curly hair. Jeff pointed out it was probably to pass a class, but Wheeler was only a sophomore. And Steve had no problems using that charm of his to get extra credit.

Then Steve showed up at the trailer for the first time, bleeding and slurring and not making any sense. But Eddie got him into the shower, butterfly bandaged his face up and got some of the story out of him after a few beers between them.

He hadn’t thought Jonathan Byers had it in him.

He jolted, blinking up at Wayne who stood above him, apparently had kicked his foot to wake him. Why was he on the couch?

“That wasn’t your doing, right?” Wayne jutted his chin to his left. Eddie frowned, trying to move his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes. The arm that was wrapped around one Steve Harrington, sporting two black eyes and the cut across his eyebrow bleeding again.

He looked up, cringing at his uncle. “It wasn’t.” Then their current predicament hit him. “Uhh-“

“Should’ve put ice on it, instead of just drinking all the beer,” Wayne huffed, turning to ease himself into his chair, calmly opening up the newspaper. As if that settled everything.

Eddie blinked. Frowned. Rubbed his face. “That’s it?”

Wayne grunted. “Seems like it. Unless you need me to give you ‘The Talk?’”

They both shook their heads, and then laughed.

The jostling finally woke Steve.

“Hey,” he groaned, wincing. Eddie caught his hand before he could poke at his face. “Ouch.”

Steve’s eyes widened comically as they landed on Wayne. He untangled himself from Eddie and shuffled quickly to the other end of the couch.

“Uhhh- I- we-”

Eddie almost wanted to see what his excuse would be, caught snuggling on the couch with the likes of him. Wayne waved him off though.

“Don’t mention it, kid. But don’t bleed on the couch, huh? Family heirloom.”

Steve groaned again as his face moved between surprise, confusion and settled on pain. He stumbled to the bathroom and Eddie rolled his eyes at his uncle. “Family heirloom? We found it by the dumpsters.”

“I’m leaving it to you in my will,” he answered without looking up from his sports page.

“It’s too early for this shit, man,” Eddie grumbled and went to make coffee.

Since Wayne didn’t have a problem with them hanging out — or anything else, as long as they were quiet — Steve became a pretty regular visitor to the trailer. Steve seemed to prefer the trailer to his cushy, usually empty house. And Uncle Wayne was happy to have someone to talk football with.

Eddie didn’t go to his classmates’ graduation. Actually the principal made it clear in no uncertain terms that he should not make an appearance. He was probably worried he’d pull a stunt, but it would’ve been nice to watch his friends walk across the stage. And Steve.

But all of that was erased from his mind as he flicked the graduation gown up Steve’s back

“No shirt, baby? Wanted to give them a show, huh?”

Steve gasped, arching his back into the finger Eddie was dragging down his spine. The rough black fabric highlighted his tanned and freckled back beautifully.

“It was hot, ah!”

Eddie’s fingers had made their way down to his boxers, tugging none too gently at the waistband.

Does it turn you on when I turn you around?

Can we make a scene?

Can you make it loud?

He was the one groaning when he found his pretty ass already wet and open.

“What’s this, Stevie?” He gave him a moment to think as he roughly plunged three fingers in his loosened hole.

“I- oh my god. I didn’t want to wait.”

Eddie hummed, pressing biting kisses down his back. “Where’d you do it, huh? Spread out on your big bed thinking about my cock?”

With a shake of his head, Steve wailed. “No,” he dragged the word out as Eddie teased his prostate. “In the shower.”

Eddie grinned. “Ohhh I see. Did you touch yourself thinking about getting fucked later? Getting yourself all open for me?”

There was a shudder around his fingers and Eddie thought momentarily that Steve had come already but instead he practically yelled, “Yes!”

“Is that right? Did you come? Playing with your ass like a little horndog?” Eddie teased, rubbing continuously now against his prostate.

Steve was whining and groaning so loudly now Eddie hoped no one called the cops.

“That’s it, get loud for me. Wanna hear you. Are you that close already?”

Steve shrieked, and Eddie chuckled. But then almost swallowed his tongue when Steve cried out, “Didn’t- ah! Didn’t come! I waited! Wanted you!”

Eddie could’ve come untouched at that. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.”

Shocking him even further, Steve got enough leverage to turn most of the way over to look back at him. “C-can, please Eds. Can I turn around? Want to be… Need to see you. Please?”

It was that last ‘please’ that got him. The final crack in his resolve, every reasonable argument now quiet to his plea.

Eddie pulled away, then rearranged them in his tiny twin bed. Steve shuddered again as Eddie guided his hips.

Almost as soon as he was fully inside, Steve’s mouth was on his.

I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me

I can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

Eddie was not going to last long, and from the way Steve was mewling against his lips and meeting his thrusts he didn’t think he would either. The knowledge that Steve had edged himself earlier and probably thought about him the entirety of his commencement, squirming around on his hard chair had him biting into Steve’s lip as he came hard into his body.

“Eds Eds- oh my god,” Steve breathed, staring up at him with those beautiful doe eyes as he came untouched between them.

After they came down, Steve chuckled into his chest. Eddie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe I’ll have to keep the cap and gown, huh?”

“Fuck yes.”

[allzelemonz]

Might As Well: Negan Smith X FTM Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 4, Forced Proximity Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and ‘guy’ Physical Sex: AFAB, neutral wording used except in warnings section Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Negan says trans people are hot, Negan being gay, Negan has a dick size fixation, Negan is his own warning, cave in, trapped together, trans reader, trans male reader, vaginal sex, mention of pregnancy possibility but nothing positive, brief masturbation, top Negan and bottom Reader, mention of Reader being thick, mention of future oral sex Summary: While scouting through a cave system, you and Negan get cut off from the others.

The cave-in happened without a lot of warning. Just enough rumbling for everyone to panic, not nearly enough to get Negan out. The rocks fell, filling the whole passage and leaving the rest of the scout team on the other side while you and Negan stand between the fallen rocks and a natural dead end. You can faintly hear Simon and Regina shouting at the rest to shut up, but nothing beyond that.

You look back at Negan, eyes searching for injuries on your boss. “You good?”

He nods. “Dandy, just fucking dandy.”

“Alright!” Simon shouts from the other side of the rocks. “We’re gonna need some tools, probably wood to prop up the cave, get the fuck back to the truck.”

Negan smirks, leaning against the wall. “That’s my Simon, getting shit done.”

“Still gonna be a while.” You run a hand along the rocks. “Shit’s pretty thick, boss.”

“It ain’t the only thing.” Negan mutters, tilting his head as he looks you over. “Would you be absolutely offended if I said I wanted to stuff whatever hole you got, man?”

“Funny, boss.” You mutter, still scanning the rocks to find some kind of opening.

“You think I’d joke about that?” Negan huffs. “You’re a good lieutenant, don’t get me wrong, but my first pick for you was husband. And since we got a while, well… we might as well, huh?”

You look back at him, finding his face oddly steady as opposed to that typical bullshit expression.

“Now.” He sighs, setting Lucielle aside and starting to unbuckle his belt. “Either I beat it to your handsome fucking face or I get to stick this uncomfortable problem between your legs. But I am gonna get off either way, cause you’ve had me hard for like an hour.”

You watch with a bit of a swirling mind as he pulls himself from his pants and starts to stroke.

“Feel free to jump in.” He groans lightly as his head rests back against the cave wall.

You feel a dryness in your throat, a throbbing below the waist, and the immediate image of your boss fucking you into the rocks beneath your feet.

“Okay…” Your voice comes out scratchy and low enough that, in the back of your mind, you wish it would always sound like that.

He pauses, smiling over at you. “Any boundaries I need to know about?”

You crinkle your brow, not fully expecting him to care about something like that.

“Look, man…” He sighs, shaking out his hand. “You ain’t the first guy in that situation I’ve had and you definitely won’t be the last. All I wanna know is if I can touch everything without a lotta grief or if I should just hold your hips and fuck.”

It surprises you for half a second before you realize that, of course, Negan has not only fucked the occasional non-traditional guy but knows how to make that fuck go over well enough that he can empty his balls. “Second one.” You mutter, unbuttoning your pants.

“I’ll keep that in mind. You okay on your stomach?”

You nod, carefully kneeling on the rocks and pulling your pants down your thighs.

“And as far as I’m concerned your dick would probably be huge.” He chuckles as he takes your hips and guides you to prop them up as you settle on your stomach. “You got the biggest balls kinda attitude, but it’s like you don’t give a shit and that’s hot as fuck for me.”

“Thanks…” You mutter quietly, trying not to feel any particular way about the small affirmation.

“Anytime.” He presses his tip up against you, dragging it gently. “Maybe we can find you a nice big dick so you can fuck me next time. One that suits you, gotta be at least eight inches and nice round nuts for a guy as hot as you.”

He presses in, sinking in one thrust as he groans and squeezes your hips. Your back arches on instinct, the filling sensation making everything throb and heat in seconds. Your hand goes to your mouth as he starts to move, not wanting to make anything echo through the other caves.

“Taking it like a champ.” Negan mutters. “Fuck, I can get real deep with you.” He grinds into you, his balls pressing firmly against your skin. “Ya gotta let me cum inside, baby, it’s too good. Dr. Carson’s got pills and shit, just say I can.”

You nod lightly. “It’s fine, boss.”

“Yeah…” He picks up his pace, hunching over you to get deeper. “That’s my guy, huh? Giving the boss everything he can.”

You press your head against the cool rock floor and bite deep into your hand to keep the sounds at bay. Negan’s good. He knows how to fuck and fuck good. Every shove forward now brings you close and it’s one final thrust that brings Negan over that gets you too. He floods you, warm and already leaking out around his dick as it’s settled as deep in you as it can go. You shutter and groan into your hand as your body milks him dry. The two of you lay for a moment, Negan lowers your hips to rest on the ground and hums into your neck as he rests lightly on top of you.

“Next time we’re stuck, I’m sucking whatever dick you got.” He mutters against your skin, giving you a small kiss. “I know there’s shit to make it bigger, and I’ll be damned if I can’t find something. You got no idea how much I wanna get my mouth around it.”

“You plan on getting us stuck in a cave again?” You mumble, a bit tired from the intensity as you lazily shift under him to get more comfortable.

“You could just come see me.” Negan smiles against your neck. “I’d suck you off anytime.”

[bertoltblecht]

On Call - One

Characters - Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x OFC , Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Frank Langdon, Dana Evans, Jack Abbot

Summary - Rose Reilly is a surgical resident specializing in trauma medicine under Drs Robinavitch and Abbot. A series of scenes involving Robby and Rose.

Word count: 1874

Rated: Mature

Tags: Angst, Mutual Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Tension, Very Light Suicidal Ideation, Sex, Mutual Pining

A/N: Hello! Sorry if you know me in real life and this is weird. Enjoy! This is already 4 chapters deep on Ao3 but I don’t want to flood tumblr like a jerk so I’ll post them over a week here to get caught up. Let me know what you think, please be gentle. Writing is someone’s emotional back window, don’t snipe me. There’s going to be some more of this, not sure how much.

—————————————————

In order to work in the emergency medical field, you have to be able to keep all your shit in neat, tidy mental boxes. Rose had taken a while to adjust to needing such thick walls between her surface emotions and the impossible frustration of their day to day lives.

She did her surgical specialization in the Pitt, trauma medicine. All the other residents conceded none of them wanted her fellowship under Dr. Robby. Idiots. Not only was he the most experienced doctor in the hospital, but he had a commitment to educating the doctors around him. He had certainly committed himself to her education.

It had been more than a crash course in emergency medicine. He’d also caved to her earnestness, her intelligence, and her desperation. He had shown her how to manage the excess of everything that built up inside her and threatened to destroy her. Robby’s boxes were taped shut, he’d been doing this long enough that even when the bones in the closet started to clamber to life, the locks stayed tight. He was impressively good at looking sad but soldiering on and Rose... felt too much for a long time.

Long before things became personal between them, Robby had looked out for her in a way she’d never had a boss look out for her. He was that way with all the people who worked with or for him, she assured herself. And he really was for the most part. After one particularly long, terrible shift, an intern told Robby that Rose was MIA for final rounds. Dana had tried to cover for the girl but pointed the senior attending subtly in the direction of the stairwell to the roof.

It wasn’t like it was high or anything. It was just the trauma center roof which was only three stories. The main hospital was taller. Furthermore, it wasn’t like Rose was thinking about that at all. Well, she was but just in the way she thought about a lot of things - theoretically. It would just be such a huge hassle for her coworkers downstairs and she’d be in, like, a ton of pain. That wasn’t at all why she’d come up here. She just knew after that shift no one would want to climb the stairs to find her and she needed to breathe. Rose needed the locker room to be empty after the shift change so she could change alone and not have to be a human being in front of everyone while they were all exposed, exhausted nerves.

“Dr. Reilly.” Hearing her name from the door wasn’t entirely what surprised her, it was the sharpness with which it left Dr. Robby. The sight of her at the railing of the roof clearly affected something in him. Rose felt something she thought might be guilt bubble up in her at having been up here and inadvertently thinking those thoughts, sending off that energy. Her head was full and sluggish and overwhelmed all at once.

Dr. Robby repeated her name again, his tone more gentle but it still made her go wide eyed for a moment all the same - just long enough that his expression softened as she turned and moved away from the railing to walk toward him.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Dana said you were up here, you missed rounds.” His tone was light. It wasn’t a question or an accusation.

“I know, sorry. I don’t know why today got to me so badly,” Rose admitted softly. But it wasn’t just that day. It had felt like it had been creeping up on her for a while. They’d had a series of bad weeks in the trauma department. It was easy to admit she was run down that day, and the sentiment didn’t convey any of the devastation lingering just below the surface, the waves thrashing her against the rocks.

“It won’t happen again.” She sounded like she meant it, and he was inclined to believe her. For a moment though, he scrutinized her in a way that made her want to fidget nervously. It felt like having someone glance around you at your front door, peeking to see what you were hiding with the door propped open just so.

Rose lost the staring contest and dropped from his intense gaze. But he seemed satisfied that she was at least going to make it another day, so he nodded. “Try to get some rest. Good work today. I know they aren’t all easy days, but your progress and contribution here is obvious.” The sentiment sounded so genuine, it made her eyes well and her throat tightened in an annoying way.

The earnestness made her feel itchy. “Thank you, Dr. Robby. It means a lot. I’m built for this, I know I am. It’s just taking some time to…put everything in its proper place, label all the boxes to pack the trauma in.” He’d laughed at her joke and hadn’t gone back inside until she had.

After that, it was obvious that Robby was learning things about her as they went, and Rose tried not to be too aware of it. It would be ridiculous to assign too much significance to the person she spent hundreds of hours with remembering things like her tree nut allergy or knowing that if he just talked absently long enough about recent medical studies in the locker room that eventually Rose would stop picking her cuticles and staring at the wall and actually leave the building. He would even walk her to her car, keeping her from getting stuck sitting on the bench outside the ER for another hour, perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It wasn’t like she was keeping track - maybe he had a whole mental diary of things about Frank’s intricacies and tendencies. He was certainly considerate of everyone she saw him interact with. Making people feel seen was easily something he could be commended on.

Rose couldn’t honestly tell you what it was about her that pulled him in. It wasn’t like she had launched a seduction plan. She had tried not to think about how his attention felt like warm sunshine and it was easier to leave the building when he was beside her. He was married though, so Rose had kept her thoughts and hands to herself. Even when she’d overheard the nurses discussing his separation and divorce proceedings. No one had any real intel, just that they’d heard him on the phone with a divorce attorney and a real estate broker for a new apartment.

The area was deeply grey when they’d finally crossed the line. Her separated-from-his-wife senior attending had closed the gap when they were a touch past tipsy at a bar across town. They’d been stranded by an ambulance that needed to leave them behind and their shift had been over anyway. The details of how they had ended up in the bar’s bathroom sort of escaped her, but the memory of the actual event was captured in stunning technicolor in her mind’s eye.

It was so much easier to sleep after a terrible shift when Rose was well fucked and beside someone who didn’t ask her if she was okay. Sometimes Robby asked it with his eyes, but they were sides of the same coin - of course neither of them were okay.

So for a few months, they stole nights together in her studio apartment, cooking dinner, turning on an audiobook, or listening to jazz records. She took comfort in his warm, quiet presence. Especially after long days of talking endlessly to people, neither of them much wanted to communicate verbally. So they didn’t most of the time. It was easy because neither of them wanted very much from the other.

A single close call had been enough to spook him though.

Robby was in her kitchen making a mushroom risotto when the resounding crack of IKEA particle board against her skull brought him running. “Jesus, shit, fuck, ah!” she hissed, her hand going to her hairline to catch the blood from dripping down her forehead. It broke the skin of her scalp and the resulting bump was already bruised.

“Shit, what happened?” Robby asked, gently nudging her hands away to look. Rose inhaled sharply as his fingers prodded and he murmured an apology as he tipped her head up. “It hit me in the head,” she said, clenching her jaw petulantly and making him raise his eyebrows.

“You need stitches. So we get to go back to work.” He hadn’t sighed but he also couldn’t hide the weary disappointment at the direction of their evening.

The night didn’t improve from there.

Rose slipped into an unused consult room while Robby grabbed a suture tray. He’d been caught by Dana though and even though Rose couldn’t hear through the door, the look shared between them made it clear the woman had not bought whatever answer Robby gave about what was going on.

More than that, the guilty look on Robby’s face spoke volumes. When he shut the door to the consult room behind him, he was Dr. Robby her boss again. It was amazing that just a half hour prior he had been making her dinner and now… he was going to very professionally stitch up her forehead and then quietly break her heart. It was almost like she could watch it happen in slow motion. He finished up the sutures and Rose cut him off before he could say anything. “Well at least I don’t have a concussion. Means I can head home and get to bed. Don’t need to worry about not waking up like Attila the Hun…” Rose trailed off, not making a good case for the lack of concussion. “So if you want to.. also head home. I would just see you tomorrow evening for the start of overnight shifts,” she added, offering him the exit that his posture was all but begging for.

“I think Attila the Hun died of a nosebleed in his sleep,” Robby replied, tying off the last knot. “You really should get some rest and if you have a headache tomorrow take the day.”

Rose nodded, allowing a soft laugh to leave her. What was she supposed to do? Be mean to him? He was protecting himself… his career… her career. To his credit though, he didn’t just speed down the shoulder to the exit. Robby caught her gaze and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry to just...bolt. I let myself do this without thinking it through. And that’s not fair.”

Robby wasn’t an asshole though. He drove her home, got her settled and, once she was in bed, he cleaned up the mess of half made dinner and built the offending bookcase. The finished product standing beside her couch was the only real evidence that he’d been there at all come morning. That he’d ever been there, for that matter.

Something else to pack neatly away.

They went back to the vaguely defined boundaries that existed before the bathroom hook-up. Robby was still attentive at work, and Rose kept her head down and focused on her residency. That’s what they were really best at anyway. The work.

next

[doc-who]

When Green Turns Red

Emily Prentiss/Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapters: 4/?

Words: 1745

Categories: Angst, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Eventual Smut

Emily sits in the waiting room, eyes glued to the emergency department doors. She’s chewed her lip raw, and the traces of blood on her tongue match the stains of yours on her clothes. The rest of the team waits around her, silent. Barely a word has been spoken since the paramedics had taken you away in the ambulance.

The clock on the wall seems to tick louder with each passing second, seemingly mocking Emily and her inability to do anything to help you. She buries her head in her hands in an effort to stop the onslaught of images that torment her.

Her thoughts start to spiral, a mixture of guilt and fear. She can’t shake the thought that if she had done something differently, if she hadn’t left you alone that night, you wouldn’t be fighting for your life right now. It’s a weight that threatens to crush her.

The surgeon finally emerges with a look on his face that makes Emily’s heart sink. He beckons the team over, and Emily jumps to her feet. The room feels too small, the air too thick, as he delivers the news. You’re in critical condition. The surgery was successful, but you lost a huge amount of blood, along with sustaining severe head trauma. Emily’s world narrows at the sound of his words. She nods, throat too tight to speak, as the doctor explains your recovery, assuming you’ll pull through.

“When can we see her?” Garcia asks.

“It’ll be a few hours until she can have visitors. Right now we’ve had to put her in a medically induced coma. If the swelling in her brain goes down like we hope, then we should be able to wake her up tomorrow.”

Emily tries to focus on the positives. That they found you, that you’re alive, but she can’t help but think about all the things that could still go wrong. She turns away from the team, knowing the thoughts are clear on her face.

Morgan is the only one to have the courage to approach her. “Emily, she’ll be okay.”

She nods, not trusting her voice. JJ pulls Morgan away for a second, handing him a bag.

“Here, a change of clothes. Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll get us some coffee.”

Emily shakes her head, “I need to be here when she wakes up.”

“Emily, you heard the doctor, it’s going to be a while. Do you really want the first thing she sees being you covered in blood?”

Sighing, she takes the bag from his outstretched hand. She waves off Garcia when she moves to come with her, needing to be alone. Locking the door to the bathroom behind her, she braces herself at the sink, and hangs her head. She hesitates for a moment, not having the nerve to face herself. Taking a deep breath, she looks up, her eyes meeting the strangers in the mirror.

For the first time since she found you, she let’s herself cry.

—

The team had forced Emily to go home, refusing to let her sit in the waiting room all night. She had fought them at first, but she was tired, the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders. They told her she wasn’t any use to you half dead on her feet, and she reluctantly agreed.

Walking into her empty apartment, she’s greeted by Sergio nudging her leg. “Hey buddy,” she whispers, picking him up and holding him to her chest. Burying her face in his fur, she focuses on the rumbling of his purrs.

Not bothering to turn on any lights, she heads straight for the bedroom and puts Sergio down on the bed. Pulling back the covers, she gets underneath them without getting changed and draws the spare pillow towards her.

The scent of your hair lingers on the pillowcase, and she clutches it to her chest. If she closes her eyes she can pretend that you’re next to her. That the scent of your shampoo isn’t just traces of where you used to be. The tears come again, silent and hot, rolling down her cheeks and staining the pillow. She’s not sure how long she has lays there, holding the memory of you close.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day overcomes her. She drifts between fits of sleep and wakefulness. In the brief moments of unconsciousness she relives a slideshow of the worst moments of the past two days - and every time she wakes, she’s hit with the agonizing reality that you’re not here.

—

Morning comes and Emily is surprised she’s slept at all. There’s a brief moment before she’s woken fully, where she’s at peace. Then she remembers and the pain returns. She goes through the motions of her morning routine on autopilot, the sting of the too hot water barely registering as she showers. The sun has barely risen by the time she leaves and the early hour means she’s the first one to arrive at the hospital.

She lingers in the doorway to your room, listening to the beep of the machines that are hooked up to your bruised and broken body. She’s not sure how much time has passed before she hears footsteps approaching. Dragging her eyes away from you, she quietly greets the team, giving an acceptable answer when they ask how she’s doing.

“She should be waking up soon,” JJ says, leaning next to Emily on the other side of the doorway.

A panic starts to build in her chest and she feels the overwhelming urge to run. “I’m going to go get some coffee,” she says suddenly, walking away before they have the chance to reply. She rounds the corner and collapses into the nearest chair. Pressing her palms into her eyes, she tries to calm her breathing. Gradually, the panic starts to recede, and she manages to take in a full breath.

Feeling someone sit down next to her, she lowers her hands from her face. When she sees it’s Morgan she tenses. He sits in silence with her for a moment, waiting to see if she’ll open up without him having to pry. When a few minutes have passed he leans back, assessing her in that particular way he does.

“Why don’t you want to see her, Emily?”

She clenches her jaw at the question, “I have seen her.”

Morgan sighs, “Alright, then. Why don’t you want her to see you?”

Emily stills, before she leans forward and braces herself on her knees. Morgan is patient, letting her organize her thoughts.

Finally, she answers with a shaking voice, “It would be selfish,” she whispers, “for me to be there when she wakes up.”

Morgan looks at her in confusion, “How would that be selfish? If anyone should be there it should be you.”

Emily scoffs, “After what I said to her? What I did? She probably hates me.”

“Emily, you know that’s not true. She doesn’t hate you.”

“If she doesn’t, then she should,” she mumbles to herself.

Morgan sighs in exasperation and stands up, “If you want to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, then fine.”

The mortification of being called out so blatantly renders her speechless. He waits, giving her the chance to defend herself, to get herself together and be there for you. When she doesn’t, the look of disappointment he gives her makes her hang her head in shame.

—

You wake slowly to the sound of beeping. Gradually emerging from sleep, you lay there, bits and pieces of the past few days slowly coming back to you.

“Emily?” You mumble, wincing in pain when you try to move.

“Hey, just relax. You’re in the hospital.” JJ, not Emily. You fight against the heaviness in your eyes, opening them just enough to see her hovering over you.

Clearing your throat, you try to get your thoughts straight. “Where’s Emily?”

JJ looks behind her to the rest of the team and they share a look that makes your heart speed up. The increasing beeps from the monitor draws their attention back to you.

Your voice shakes, “Is she okay?”

JJ sits down on the chair next to your bed, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “She’s fine, I promise.”

Her words provide some reassurance, but you still don’t understand. “Where is she?” Your eyes dart between the team, waiting for an answer.

Morgan steps forward, eyes shifting. “She’s here,” he says quickly, “She just…had some things to deal with.” It’s obvious there’s more he’s not telling you.

Your heart sinks. Of course. Why would Emily be here? She hates you. She said you were a mistake. You turn your head away, trying to hide the tears building in your eyes. You don’t want to be here. You feel exposed and vulnerable now that you’ve realised what happened between you and Emily is common knowledge amongst the team.

“When can I go home?” You whisper.

The team gives you an incredulous look. JJ utters your name in disbelief, “You almost died.”

You nod as much as your aching head allows. You guess you won’t be going home anytime soon. JJ sees that you’re about to break and motions to the team, who all give you a sympathetic look before filing out of the room.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” JJ asks, voice gentle and unimposing.

You swallow back tears and put on the most convincing smile you can manage, “Nothing, just tired.”

You can see that she doesn’t believe you. “Are you sure?” JJ asks, and you nod.

“I’m fine, really,” you smooth your hands over the rough blanket that covers you, “I think I just need to be alone for a while.”

JJ studies you, trying to discern how you’re really feeling. You try not to squirm under the observation. When she realises she’s not getting anything more out of you, she sighs and gets to her feet.

“I’ll get a doctor to come and check in on you,” she pauses, hovering next to you, “We are all here for you. You know that, right?”

You nod, even though you know it’s not completely true. The one person you really need doesn’t want anything to do with you.

You keep yourself composed until JJ is gone, then you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your head into the pillow, you finally allow yourself to feel the absence of Emily.

The tears burn as they fall.

ao3

[msschemmenti]

girl in danger - 4

a/n: if you thought matt was a creep-- you were right.

They didn’t actually talk about it later. JJ was particularly good at distracting the trio once Y/n finally made it home and they all regretted it by morning. JJ and Emily were swept away on a case just after 5 A.M. and Y/n was up and out of the door for her day shortly after. The days seemed to blur together with final classes and recital prep. And with her girlfriends gone, Y/n found herself in her office a bit later than she’d intended. She’d been spending so many late nights in the building, that even the patrolling public safety officers expected her. She’d be heading to her car in the empty parking lot when they roll through on their little golf carts. No matter who the officer was, they always asked the same thing. “Last one out?” And Y/n would confirm and head home. But luckily for her— this pattern was coming to an end. After this recital, she was gonna have two weeks worth of summer to relax in before her summer term classes began. It’d be a small break but a break nonetheless.

“Thank you all so much for joining us tonight. Can we get another round of applause for our wonderful student performers and their hard work?” Dr. Kelley smiled from the front of the auditorium. “We in the music department want to wish the graduating seniors good luck in their next chapters in life. And we also thank you for your contributions to the department. All of you are so talented and we were truly honored to have you with us.” The room clapped and cheered as the students took an extra bow in recognition. “With that being said, that brings us to the end of our Spring recital! Have a good night!” 

As the auditorium emptied out, the faculty started to break down the stage for the night, hoping to get out of there relatively quickly. Y/n grabbed a couple of mic stands, shuffled them back into the off-stage storage area and made her way back out to finish up the cleanup. When it was time to roll the baby grand piano back into the closet, most of the auditorium was empty. Dr. Kelley reentered the auditorium shortly after everything had been cleared and smiled up at her colleagues. “Thank you all so much for making this recital a success. I really appreciate all the extra hours everyone put in over the last month and I appreciate each of you. And to make up for all the craziness, I’ll represent us all at the commencement ceremony tomorrow morning.” Her words caused the professors to whoop and high-five gratefully. Not having to spend their Saturday morning in regalia in a stuffy gym was ample payment for the weeks of extra hours. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thank you. So everyone get out of here. The building will be closed for the next two weeks until Summer term starts, so please enjoy your break.” Each professor expressed their thanks and made for the exit. Most of them made no stops and wished everyone a good break on their way to the parking lot, but Y/n had left all of her things in her office and she’d need to grab all of that before she was home free. 

Unlocking her door she was greeted by the floral arrangement she’d received that afternoon. The card still poking from the bouquet read, “For our star. Break all the legs! - E and J.” When Miss Jeanette had brought them down to her over her lunch, she couldn’t scrub the grin off her face for the rest of the day even if she tried. It hadn’t been a huge deal that they couldn’t make the recital, but it felt really nice knowing they were thinking of her even while they ran around across the country. She slipped out of her heels and packed them away in her bag and rounded up everything she’d need for the next two weeks. Once that was all secured over her shoulder, she carefully grabbed the flowers and her keys. The hall was already dark when she opened the door but she’d gotten used to being the last out of the building by now. What she wasn’t used to was the wall of a person stood on her heels as she turned to lock her office door. She’d just slid the key into the lock when she felt the shift in energy. She turned her head slowly and jumped as her eyes met Matt’s dark eyes.” Matthew? What are you still doing here?” She turned her body to face him cautiously. She let her eyes slowly scan the hall for anyone else but there wasn’t a soul in sight. 

“Oh hi Professor Y/Ln. I wanted to speak to you. Thank you for your help this semester.” When Y/n’s eyes finally gave up searching for someone else they fell back to Matt. His hands were gripping the strap of a messenger bag at his shoulder and unlike before, his eyes were now trained on the flowers in Y/n’s hands. Y/n shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and tried to smile. 

“Of course, sure. That makes sense.” Y/n replied. “Well I’m glad you enjoyed my class and I hope you keep singing even after graduation tomorrow.” 

As if she hadn’t been speaking at all Matt piped up poking at the floral arrangement, “You got flowers?” The professor watched as his eyes glazed a bit and he took a step closer. She matched his step with a step backwards– back now pressed against her office door. 

“Uh huh, they’re quite nice aren’t they? Say Matt, don’t you need to get ready for graduation tomorrow morning? I heard it starts pretty early, wouldn’t want you too tired to walk, huh?” Y/n asked, leaning as far into the door as she possibly could. 

Matt ignored her again, and reached to pluck the card out of the flowers and studied it. A frown settled pretty easily across his face as he turned the card over in his hand, looking for any more text to read. “Who are E and J? Why’d they send you flowers?” 

“They’re friends of mine,” Y/n answered vaguely studying the way Matt’s face contorted. She may be extremely uncomfortable but she could tell when someone was jealous. ”They’re actually waiting for me right now– we’re celebrating the end of the semester so I really should get going. Wouldn’t want to leave them waiting.” She decided against locking the door, thinking it much better not to turn her back to the guy and she attempted to inch her way down the hall.

“Oh! Well, will I see you at graduation tomorrow? Maybe we can talk more then.” Matt said, following down the hall. 

“Uh huh, sure.” Y/n agreed blindly, trying to put some sort of distance between them both. “And if I don’t see you tomorrow, just know I’m wishing you all the best luck post-grad.” She’d made it to the end of the hall and was finally breathing a bit easier with Matt further away. She got to the very end of the hall, just around the corner from the exit, and she turned to say goodbye (but also to check to make sure he wasn’t following her). But before she could even utter the words, her eyes widened as Matt’s arm reeled back. And everything went black.

[nyazwrld]

BENEATH THE SILENCE

Chapter 4, word count: 2k

Summery: After a long day of miscommunication and an unnerving amount of reality checks y/n ends her day noticing that silence has a way of echoing louder than expected. Between storm clouds, memories, sticky notes and strange shadows, something feels… off.

Previous chapter, next chapter, chapter list !!

playlist!!

A Storm Is Coming…

“This is so stupid” I groaned to myself, yanking the fridge door open. Cold air spills out, hitting my face almost waking me up. Half a tomato. Wilted lettuce. A few slices of Bacon that probably should’ve been used yesterday and two pathetic excuses for slices of bread. I’ll do.

I drop everything onto the counter and start prepping my lazy BLT. Everything is beginning to frustrate me. My movements are stiff and sharp unable to shake off tension from earlier. I lean against the counter and try not to think about the way Jacob looked at me.

I hate this.

Why did he get so mad? He’s the one who kept pushing me back at the beach, practically begging me to admit something was off. But when I ask about the wolves, he shuts down. Tells me to drop it.

“You can keep pretending it was just a storm… but I was there, and I know for a fact that it wasn’t a damn storm.”

I scoff through my nose as I pick up the slices of bread and throw them into the toaster

how is that fair?

I should’ve slammed the door harder

The bacon starts to sizzle in the pan. I lean on the counter, arms crossed.

He always does this. He gets close, then pulls back. Like I’m the one asking for too much, like I’m the one imagining things that aren’t there. But I’m not stupid. I saw something. We both did.

I flip the bacon and reach for the bread, still chewing on my own frustration when something quieter creeps in underneath it.

Why is Dad gone so much lately?

I try to brush it off, but the thought digs in deeper. It’s been almost every night now. Late shifts. Last-minute calls. No real explanation. Just notes on the counter and if I’m lucky takeout in the fridge.

Does he even like being around me anymore?

The question stings more than I want to admit.

I mean, we’ve gotten closer these past few years. So it couldn’t be that. I hope.

I started to assemble my sorry ass sandwich before it hit me.

Is he avoiding me?

I finish the sandwich and take one slow bite before pushing the plate away. I’m not really hungry anymore. I lost my appetite around the second argument today. I just needed to feel like I was doing something productive. Eating counts, right? Technically?

The house is painfully quiet and empty. No TV. No unusually loud footsteps from my father. Just the hum of the fridge and the low groan of the old pipes behind the walls.

I need to do something.

I pick up my sandwich and walk to the front door cracking it open before a huge gust of wind does the rest of the work for me, slamming it against the siding with a bang that makes my heart jump and body flinch. That was unnecessarily loud. I just love that for me.

The rain has starts to fall sideways, like it’s in a rush to get somewhere, anywhere but here. The sky is completely ink-black, lit up every now and then by lightning sketching veins across the stormy clouds. Even the trees look like they’re holding their breath. I hope Jacob made it home safe.

Barefoot, I walk to the edge of the porch crouching as I break the sandwich into smaller pieces so it’s easier for my raccoon friend to eat.

My dad hates the damn thing but I’ve always wanted one so I may have been feeding it for the past year. We have a mutual understanding. He eats my scraps and I get to admire from a far wishing I could keep him. I finish tearing my sandwich up before I stand up walking back to the door. At least someone will appreciate it more than I do.

The rain kicks up again just as I dash back inside. It pelts the windows, finally drowning out the aching silence that’s been clinging to everything all day.

As I pass through the kitchen, my eyes land on a note stuck to the fridge with a crooked magnet I picked out when I was younger.

I sigh leaning up against the kitchen doorway staring at my father’s messy hand writing wiping the rain from my forehead.

“Late shift, stay safe. - Love Dad”

Maybe he does care.

I softly pick up the note before turning it around to see the back.

“I know about the raccoon. Stop feeding it.”

I can’t have anything nice around here.

I turn kitchen light off and walked through the hallway heading upstairs, dragging my hand along the wall like I used to when I was little.

As I pass the hallway calendar, something catches my eye.

First day of school: three days.

I stare at the red circle I drew last month, back when I thought I’d have everything figured out by now. I don’t. Not even close. Where’d all the time go?

I walk to my room noticing how all how much this day has physically exhausted me. I take my tank top off as I make it through my door way grabbing one of my worn down T-shirts as I slip my jeans off and put some sweatpants on trying my best to unwind. I cant stop thinking about it.

I sit on the edge of my bed, twisting my hair up so I can wrap it for the night. I sigh.

Why was is he being so short with me? Who does he think he is?

I got up and walked to the bathroom leaning against the sink looking into my sunken tired eyes.

Not like I care anyway.

I bend down to rinse my face before I wash it. I open the mirror and that’s when I heard it. I slowly closed the mirror and looked to my left.

Something outside the window moves.

I freeze.

It’s quick, barely a flicker but my heart stumbles in my chest. I stand tall, eyes fixed on the glass.

I step closer, pressing my hand to the window. The glass is cool against my skin, and my breath leaves a faint fog on the surface.

I blinked.

It was gone. I wiped my face in distress then looked again, my face planted on the glass window. There was nothing. I back away slowly, the hairs on the back of my neck still standing.

Was it the wind blowing the trees? Maybe the raccoon or that wolf? I don’t know. I’m too exhausted to care at this point.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth with urgency yet barley conscious enough to remember doing it.

I dried my face with the rag hanging next to me then drag myself to my room, climbing into my bed tucking myself in. Trying my best to get comfortable and melt away the unnerving and stressful day I just had. But sleep doesn’t come easy.

I keep thinking about the shadow. The wolf. Jacob’s face when he said it wasn’t just a storm. How unpresent my father has been. Today was just unnecessarily….

A lot.

My thoughts tangle and twist fighting for the wheel before I fall asleep, but the weight of today lingers even in my unconscious body.

The smell of bacon pulls me from sleep.

For a moment, everything feels warm safe. Morning light pours through the kitchen windows, golden and soft, casting long shadows across the tile floor. My dad is at the stove, humming low and off-key as he flips pancakes. He’s wearing the flannel he always wears when he’s actually home for breakfast.

I rub my eyes, blinking against the brightness. “You’re up early,” I say, sliding into the seat across from him.

He chuckles, setting a plate in front of me. “Could say the same for you.”

I smile, even though something in me feels off. Like I’m watching a memory through a window instead of living it.

“So..” I said awkwardly using my fork to play with the food on my plate “how was patrol” I ask as I watch him walk from my seat to the stove as he makes his own plate

“It was,” he paused “fine.” He said uncertainty dry as he pours himself a cup of coffee

He stiffens, barely but just enough I could catch it. His smile fades. “Quiet night,” he says quickly. “Nothing to worry about.”

I tilt my head, chewing slowly. “You sure? You’ve been coming home later and later.” I ask watching his every move, something seems… off.

He sits across from me now, mug in hand and the news paper in the other. His eyes are unusually sharp, and cold as he looks at me above the paper in his hand. “You don’t need to worry about where I am, Y/N. I’m always where I need to be.” A soft grin creeping upon his face, it seems so.. fake

His voice is calm, but it’s wrong. There’s something artificial about it. Something almost uncanny.

I laugh nervously, trying to shake it off. “Okay, creepy much?”

He doesn’t laugh back.

I quickly look down at my plate losing my appetite almost instantly. I push my plate in front of me. My gaze is being pulled to the window beside the kitchen table.

I freeze.

It’s there.

That tall, still figure, just past the tree line.

Watching.

The fork slips from my hand and clatters on the plate. My breath catches. “Dad…”

He doesn’t even turn to look.

“Dad, someone’s out there,” I whisper, standing up slowly, hand pressed to the glass.

Still, he doesn’t move. Just sips his coffee like nothing’s wrong.

I spin toward him. “Do you not see that?”

He looks up at me then, and his eyes… they’re different.

Harder. Colder. Like they’ve stopped recognizing me.

“You don’t belong here, Y/n.”

The room stills. My heart drops.

“What?”

“You never did.”

The lights flicker overhead. I back away from him as the shadows stretch longer across the floor. The windows dim. The golden sunlight fades into gray. His smile returns, but it’s too wide now. Like it’s being worn, not felt.

“Dad…” My voice cracks as I step back from the table. The whole room seems to be shrinking, warping like I’m underwater. “Stop messing around.”

But he doesn’t move. Just watches me with that hollow look in his eyes, like whatever part of him was my dad just… shut off.

“You were never supposed to stay,” he says flatly, rising from his chair so slowly it feels unnatural. “You were supposed to leave like she did.”

“What are you talking about?” I whisper, but I already feel my legs trembling.

“She didn’t belong here either. The tide always pulls its own back eventually.” His voice echoes now, somehow both quiet and booming, like it’s vibrating from the walls. “the water always remembers.”

Suddenly, the lights flicker once more, then go out.

Complete darkness.

I scream, stumbling backward, heart racing. I try to find the doorway, any door, but the floor beneath my feet squelches.

Wet.

A fast, icy flood of water sweeps across the tiles, soaking through my socks. The air turns thick and salty like the ocean. I cover my mouth as water begins dripping from the ceiling, seeping through the walls. The house groans like it’s drowning.

“No, no, no, Dad!” I spin around but he’s no longer at the table.

I turn to the hallway to see it there just standing, staring at me pulling me in.

“What are you” I shout trying not to panic as the water rises. “What are you doing here”

“You belong with me,” it says calmly.

“What?”

“In time.” It’s voice distorts echoing inside my head and soul like it’s no longer a voice at all. “You’ll be where you truly belong.”

The water crashes into me from nowhere, an invisible wave knocking the breath out of my lungs.

I’m sinking. I can’t breathe. I can’t see. Everything’s cold.

“Wake up, y/n”

“Wake up”

[lillaydee]

Shhh!!! Part 6

Celebrity!Joel Miller / F Reader

A reluctant celebrity contractor who has closed his heart for love meets a celebrity-hating Cafe on Wheels owner...

She HATES him. Thing is, he couldn't get enough of the coffee she makes...

Tag List:

@kirsteng42 @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @joelalorian @vickie5446 @inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @brittmb115 @peedrow @lovefreylove @liciafonseca

Let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.

Dividers by the awesome @saradika

Header by Moi cause I learned how to use Canva! Yay me!

WARNINGS: Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Celebrity Joel Miller, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 5

What on earth was she doing?

Lucy was pacing your tiny living room, looking as if she was about to implode, and, if you were seeing and hearing right, she was muttering to herself, as if having some important discussion you were not privy to. She stopped, gesturing at the wall, before turning around and mumbling once more.

“Lucy? Are you okay? Do I need to call someone?”

She stopped, looked at you, and went to your fridge, taking out a carton of milk. She opened it and drank it all, wiping her mouth off a milk stache before tossing the now empty carton into the trash can.

“So, tell me straight. Are you, or are you not fucking him?”

Your mind wasn’t working. Why would she ask you that? You were not friends, you didn’t know her enough to share such info. All she knew was that she saw Joel leave your place. Did that simple act translate into fucking to these young ones? Were men not allowed to visit with their lady friends anymore? And even if you were (eww…), how was it any of her business?

“Look, I know you hate me and all, but I need to warn you about him. He’s not a good guy,” she continued, raiding your fridge for something else to consume. She re-emerged with a sponge cake Betty, one of your food truck neighbours had gifted you, tipped the whole thing onto a plate and sat on your couch, eating the cake as if it was a huge piece of twinkie. “Did he make you sign an NDA?”

Huh?

“An NDA, a Non-Disclosure Agreement. To make sure you don’t talk.”

Blank stare. You hadn’t even moved from your front door, still holding it open, still trying to figure out what the heck was happening.

“Shut the door, for fuck’s sake. I might get in trouble even asking you about this!” she hissed, sponge cake spraying all over your carpet.

You did but stayed where you were.

“Well, come over here, I can’t scream this bit out. I’ll fucking get sued!”

You hesitantly walked over to her, wondering if you even wanted to hear this.

She looked around, as if expecting someone hiding behind the curtains, before facing you again.

“Does he kiss you?”

Huh?

“Does he kiss you? On the lips?”

“Uh… no… but…”

“Then I need to warn you. Believe me that NDA is coming. Get out of it. Now. Look, that guy may be hot as fuck, but he has no heart. He’s like a fucking robot. He’ll fuck you ‘til he’s done and then leave. He doesn’t even try to make you finish. It’s all about stress release for him. Nothing more. You need to stop before you get your heart broken.”

You just stared at her, your mind processing what she had just said.

She looked down at her hands, head down, fingers crumbling the sponge cake you were looking forward to eat later that day, her voice cracking. Turned out, she was doing some part time job as his assistant at one of his locations a few years back, before he adopted Ellie, she was about ten years younger than him. She had just moved to LA, looking for a career in the industry.

“I just really liked him, you know? I worked with him every day. He wasn’t like the other bosses I’d worked for. He was so nice. Gentlemanly. The media made him seem like a jerk, but he’s so sweet and gentle, never raised his voice, never yelled, so I thought I was special, you know? I was new here, and I thought I knew better.”

You sat down, finding yourself feeling sorry for her a little.

“God, I was crushing so hard on him. Took me months, but I gathered enough courage to ask him out. Just for a drink. He told me he didn’t do that, not one on one. We could go out with the whole crew, he said, but not alone. But I thought he was just playing hard to get, you know? I heard about his past ‘friends’, rumours, of course, but I thought he was just not ready then. I heard about his late wife, so I played it cool. I finally told him how I feel about him, he simply told me he didn’t do relationships. I thought about it, but I had to try, you know? He was so nice. And oh… so sexy. So… normal… for someone famous. I mean, even compared to his brother… he was just like an everyday man.”

She started crying. You gave her the tissue box, and she quickly wiped her eyes with a couple.

“I should have known,” she sobbed, “He wouldn’t even kiss me. He kept saying he didn’t do that, and stupid me, I thought I could change his mind. Who doesn’t kiss?” She took a deep breath, as much as she could anyway, while still sobbing uncontrollably.

“God I was so stupid! I kept throwing myself at him. I was so desperate for him to like me. He kept telling me he didn’t do relationships and I chose not to hear it. I practically offered myself to him on a platter. I slept with him, just once. He kept asking if I was sure. Kept reminding me he didn’t want anything more. Whatever happened, it would just be sex. And I was so besotted with him I just said yes. It wasn’t even romantic. He didn’t even kiss me. It was over so quickly. We were in his office. A shipping container with AC. He didn’t even want to get drinks with me after. Much less ask me to his place or come to mine. Just zipped up, said thanks, and left. And stupid me, I was giddy. He chose me.”

She took another deep breath, much calmer this time. “The next day, I came to work happy. I thought, we had sex, right? So we must be something now? I tried to kiss him, and he pulled back, reminding me he didn’t want that. It was just sex. It was just one time. He reminded me that he had been honest and upfront. It can never happen again if I wanted more, relationship wise. I was heartbroken. Changed jobs immediately. I spoke with some people he was rumoured to have been ‘friends’ with, and they told me they couldn’t say anything. And what’s more, they didn’t want to say anything. He was nice, upfront, and they agreed to his conditions. They even signed NDAs to that fact. They had nothing but nice things to say about him. They agreed, it was just sex. If you’re lucky, he’ll come back for seconds, even thirds. If you’re very lucky, he’ll see you again on a more regular basis.”

“His agent came knocking days later, NDA in hand. I can’t say anything about him or that day to anyone. I’m breaking the fucking rule telling you about this. But if I can save you the heartbreak, I am willing to risk it. Don’t do it, Lily. He’ll only break your heart.”

You were lost for words. She just went on a rant about Joel, the man you did not sleep with, risking a lawsuit while doing so, too. How do you tell her you didn’t sleep with him, nor were you planning to, without her being angry at you? She went through all those tears trying to warn you. And now you just felt bad.

“Uh… Lucy, I didn’t sleep with him. He’s just a friend.”

“What?”

“He came to fix my shower. That’s all.”

Silence. Her face blank.

And then it morphed into one of what you could only describe as a tantrum.

“YOU’RE TELLING ME I’VE JUST RISKED A LAWSUIT FOR NOTHING?” she screeched.

You gave her a slight nod, a cringe on your face, which may or may not have come off as mocking her – she certainly took it that way – tears gone, all that simpering ‘I care about you too much to let him do this to you too’ look all but gone. She huffed her way past you to your door, taking your precious sponge cake with her, only stopping to growl at you to not mention the conversation to anyone through gritted teeth, slamming your door behind her so loud you could feel the floor shake.

You took a deep breath after that.

Well… that was… more info than you’d like to digest this morning.

You didn’t have anything to do. You’ve cleaned your tiny apartment twice, did all your laundry, deep cleaned the truck and machine, and now you didn’t know what to do. What do you do on a Monday? You called your Uncle Bill, but he was busy. So you decided why not? You hadn’t been grocery shopping in ages. You didn’t really cook that much, usually too tired to cook by the time you got home. But perhaps getting some ready made food or ramen wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Plus, you needed lunch, and that sponge cake Lucy demolished and later stole was all the food you had in your fridge. That, and a questionable orange and two tomatoes, which you were sure moved when you pushed them aside to clean the fridge.

You were in the midst of deciding which ramen to buy when you heard your name being hollered through the store, a very excited Ellie following it. She practically tackled you, telling you it was weird to see you outside of the truck, without your kerchief and apron.

“Hey, excited teenage girl, why are you so excited to see me? You’ll see me tomorrow, you know that, right?”

“Nothing! I’m just excited! How’s your shower head?”

“It’s fine now. Thanks to your Dad,” you told her, moving your basket away from her prying eyes.

She took a glance, looked at you with such disappointment in her eyes and cocked her brow at you, “Really Lil? Ramen? Why don’t you take some of those microwaveable mac and cheese too?”

“Ooh! Where are they? Can you show me?”

She just laughed at you, shaking her head, taking your arm in hers and led you to the aisle, even going so far as recommending you which brands to get. The two of you went around the store, filling your basket with more instant stuff for you to reheat when you get back from work, her phone beeping over and over, before finally ringing incessantly.

“You don’t pick up your phone?”

“Eh, it’ll stop,” she said, rather nonchalantly, as the two of you made your way to the till. She grabbed a loaf of bread as you approached, paid for it, and quickly said goodbye. You didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye back before she disappeared.

You walked out with bags upon bags of instant food and one measly bag of apples in your arms – that’s healthy, right? – and tried a magical feat where you tried to get your phone out without letting go of the bags, your tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Hey Lil!”

It’s her again. She came running, sans bread, taking the bags from your right arm, asking you if you’d had lunch.

“Er… no, I’m excited to try that mac and cheese though,” you told her.

“Come on, have lunch with me. You like Thai?” she asked, starting to walk towards the Thai place just at the end of the street.

“Okay, sure!” you said, taking one of the bags in your left arm to lighten the load.

A pair of bigger hands appeared and took all your bags from you. You turned.

Joel.

“I take it you’re joining us for lunch?” he asked, smiling at you. “Where’s your car? we can leave the bags in there, unless… anything perishable in here?” he asked, scanning the contents of your bags.

Oh… dear Lord… he now knew what kind of a person you were in the kitchen.

“Um… I don’t drive. I’m Ubering.”

“Ellie,” he said, beckoning her back to the front of the store. The two of them left you standing there, and you watched helplessly, red in the face, as they placed your groceries in his truck. Huh… a beater of a truck. Not at all something you’d imagined a celebrity like him would be driving.

You didn’t know what to do. You were all for it when you thought it was just you and Ellie, but now that you know Joel was here too? First of all, it was mortifying that he knew you didn’t cook, and you didn’t know how to look him in the eye upon that little revelation. Second of all, Lucy’s story, while questionable, was still fresh in your head.

You didn’t know why, but that story she told you bothered you. Was that the kind of man he was? Sure, he’s still mourning his late wife, that much you got, empathized with, even, but did it excuse the way he treated her? And yes, he was upfront with her, but… did he need to fuck her and then serve her with an NDA when she wanted more? It all just seemed… typical playboy male Hollywood celebrity to you, and whatever blushes you may or may not have had when the two of you were saying goodbye that morning was instantly shoved out of your person.

That was not the kind of mess you wanted to ever be involved in, thank you very much.

Or maybe, just maybe, you just felt a bit uneasy that the sight of him emerging from your bathroom with water from his wet hair trickling down to his neck and chest stuck to your brain like superglue. And the fact that you googled him after Lucy left and saw that topless picture of him in a hard-hat, wielding a very large hammer.

It was then you started obsessively cleaning your apartment and truck. Twice. Purely a coincidence, obviously. As if you would clean just because you couldn’t get those images out of your head. Madness.

“You ready?” his voice jolted you out of your daydream. Ellie took you by the hand and pulled you to the restaurant, asking you 100 questions about whether or not you had eaten there, and before you could even answer, offered you 100 suggestions of what you should try. “Ellie, let the woman think, please,” Joel chastised, earning him a raspberry from the teenager.

Once you were seated, you asked Ellie to order for you. Anything Thai was good to you, so you didn’t mind.

“So, Sarah’s coming home tomorrow? You must be excited,” you started, not willing to sit in awkward silence – although it was you who was mostly awkward, what with the revelation of that morning.

“Yeah, she was supposed to leave around seven, but I got a text from her at four am saying they were already leaving so maybe they’d get here earlier than planned. Depends on where they stop tonight. They were supposed to stay at her friend’s but if they got there early, they might drive on and stay at a motel.” There was a small frown on his features, one you could only decipher as a worried father.

“He doesn’t like the idea of her staying at a motel,” Ellie explained, “Too dodgy, no security. She won’t be alone, Joel, there are three of them, she’ll be alright,” she coaxed her obviously worried father.

He smiled at her, nodding a little, “I know, I just…” he took a deep breath. “Anyway, that means that I might not be able to earn my coffee for the rest of this week, and I would rather have Ellie home too, so we could all spend some time together,” he looked apologetic, or maybe… a little regretful? “She’s gonna skip Frank’s class this week.”

“Hey, up until a week ago, I do that alone. It’s no problem.”

He mouthed a thank you, before telling Ellie what he wanted for lunch.

The three of you chit-chatted for a while, and just as lunch was served, a bunch of teenagers walked in.

“Ooh! That’s my friend Dina, I’m gonna go say hi,” Ellie said, immediately getting up to join her friends, coming back a few minutes later to get her plate, winking at you and Joel, and left.

“Well, looks like it’s just us two, then,” he said, “Just like a date!” before taking a slurp of his Tom Yum Gung.

You choked on yours, spluttering Tom Yum soup all over yourself. He panicked and came to sit next to you, rubbing your back, giving you napkin after napkin to help you clean up. He waited until you got Tom Yum out of your nostrils before going back to his seat, wary eyes on you. He asked if you were alright, and when you nodded, he hung his head for a bit.

When you looked up, Ellie was staring at you from her table, mouthing ‘are you okay’ to you. You nodded, before thanking Joel for helping you out, apologizing for his trouble, and at the same time frowning at your formerly white shirt, now splattered with red.

“Is the idea of being on a date with me that horrifying? Lucy said something to you, didn’t she?”

You froze. You didn’t know what to say. You knew Lucy would get in trouble if you did say something.

“Lucy? No. Why? How did you know her, by the way?” you feigned ignorance, taking a careful slurp of your soup.

“She was my assistant, for a while, before Ellie came to live with me,” he said, plucking a forkful of the mango salad. “We… uh… slept together once. I was very clear I didn’t want anything more, she did, and she left for another job after. So, we didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

From the way he was speaking, it was clear to you that he regretted the way things ended with Lucy.

“I wouldn’t have minded continuing a working relationship with her, professionally, but she left. I haven’t seen her before this morning.”

“Can I ask? Why didn’t you want anything more with her?” you heard yourself ask before you could stop yourself. Shit. He’s gonna go back to being a grump now, isn’t he?

Instead, he smiled, “I just… don’t have it in me anymore. After my late wife… Laura. She died when Sarah was one. After her, I just… I’m not sure I want to go through something like that again.”

You nodded, “I’m so sorry, Joel, truly.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay, being alone, I mean. I have my girls, my work, Tommy, I get by. I just… I’m…”

“Not ready,” you tried. He nodded.

“What about you? You seeing anyone?” he asked, eyes averted from yours, focusing instead on fishing the prawn in his Tom Yum.

“Nah… never again,” you said, picking a cashew off the mango salad.

Was it your imagination, or did he seem relieved?

“So I don’t have to worry about some dude attacking me for having lunch with you?”

You laughed, “No, Joel, you don’t have to worry.”

He wiped his forehead in mock relief.

“So, Laura was the last relationship you had?”

He nodded, “I won’t lie, I had a couple ladies I could call if I wanted to, but since Ellie came to live with me, I don’t do that anymore. She was having a hard time, and with Sarah in college back then, I just didn’t have the time for all that. So, now I’m just… single. No arrangements, no nothing. Free and clear. Plus, with the way the media is these days, it’s just not convenient. My cousin visited a couple of years back, she was seen around town with me, and someone looked her up. She received threats just for being seen with me,” he shook his head, looking regretful. “Luckily, she was used to that, most of my family and friends are, but I don’t think some innocent lady would be okay with that, you know?”

You nodded in agreement, eyes wide at the thought of some innocent woman being threatened by jealous fans.

“So, how long since your last relationship?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, doing the math in your head. “A few years? He left me to be with Cleo Savvant.”

It was his turn to splutter but held his hand up when you tried to help him. He laughed a little, begging you to tell him the story. When you did, he could only shake his head.

“No wonder you hate celebrities, huh?”

You huffed a laugh, “It didn’t help, that’s for sure.”

“Well, he’s an idiot.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“He left you for Savvant, that’s all I needed to know.”

You were touched, not that you would show him. So you gave him a little smile, mouthing a thanks.

“To be fair, we were on the edge of breaking up anyway, we were barely speaking to or seeing each other anymore. She did me a favour, taking him off my hands, really. All it took was a hug and a smile, and the next thing I knew, he’s all shacked up with her. He didn’t want to move in together with me, said he didn’t believe in cohabitating before marriage. But he wasn’t exactly proposing either, so it was about time, really.”

He looked contemplative for a while before asking you the next question, “So, never again?”

“You asked me today, so yeah, but who knows? I might change my mind one day. but right now? I have all I need, roof over my head, food in my belly, money in the bank… so, yeah. Never again. I don’t need a man to survive. Unless of course, my shower head breaks again.”

He guffawed, amusement clear across his entire body. You looked across the room, Ellie looking at her Dad, a smile clear on her face. Her friends were looking too, all with sly smiles on their faces.

He insisted on driving you home, Ellie climbing in the back seat as soon as you said okay. The drive was filled with easy banter and laughter, Ellie quiet in the back, busy with her phone. You told him not to, but he carried your bags of instant food to your door for you, telling you he will see you the next week for his coffee, before giving you a small peck on your cheek.

By the time you shut the door, you were sure you had a fever from the heat radiating from your cheek to the rest of your body.

Sarah laid on the bed in the motel that night, body tired from driving for hours, ready to just shut her eyes for a much needed rest to drive home the next day, when her phone pinged.

She watched the videos Ellie had sent her. Her dear old Dad, sitting at a table alone with you, laughing his head off, chatting and laughing freely with you in his truck, looking more carefree than she had ever seen him, walking towards some apartment she had never been to before, carrying your groceries for you, and finally, walking back to the truck, a smile evident on his face, despite the lone walk.

Oh wow… Ellie was right.

Her dear old Dad had a crush. On the sweet coffee lady.

Sarah went to bed smiling that night, impatient to see Ellie for more updates, and to see her Dad with you with her own eyes.

“Hey Beanie,” your Uncle Bill greeted that Wednesday morning, trudging over to your truck as you arranged the chairs out front.

“Uncle Bill,” you ran over to hug him, “What are you doing here?”

“Felt bad I couldn’t spend yesterday with you, so here I am, needed to spend time with my favourite niece,” he said, giving you a hug back.

“I’m your only niece, and you hate my truck.”

“I do, but you are always working, and the one day you didn’t, I was not free, so here I am.”

“Aww… you’re willing to suffer through the truck for the day for me?”

He rolled his eyes, taking off his light jacket and rolling his sleeves. He shooed you inside and continued unfolding and arranging the tables and chairs for you. He was not chatty, your Uncle Bill, and was by far the grumpiest and most awkward man you had ever met. But he loved you, in his own ways, and you, him. He lived alone in a condo at the edge of the city, a quiet, retired life.

He was extremely close to his only sibling, your stepmom Jenny, and was still contemplating whether or not to move back to Wyoming to be closer to her. His only excuse for not moving immediately was you, he didn’t want to leave you alone here, but you could tell he was lonely. He’s a mysterious man, your Uncle Bill. For as long as you remembered, you had never seen him with a lady friend and was single to this day. He bought that condo to be closer to your grandma, who was living in a facility in that area until she passed and decided to just stay there. You spend every free day you had with him, if not for nothing, to enjoy his cooking. Damn, that man could cook. You wouldn’t think it, looking at him. So serious, with his full beard and sharp eyes, but he had to be the softest, kindest man known to men.

He hated the truck, too small, he said. Too claustrophobic. Even staying outside brought out the grump in him. He used to sit at a table as you and Jenny worked, scowling at everyone. When confronted, he told Jenny his aim was to scare all your customers away so you would give up the stupid truck.

When Dave dumped you, he spent a week standing outside his apartment building and work place, just to send him a message. Dave called you to beg you to call your guard dog off, and your dear Uncle Bill simply moved on when you did, telling you that his message had been delivered.

He’s retired now, but spent his days volunteering for the facility your grandma had been at, doing pro bono work for folks who needed representation. So there he was, minding the till for you as you made coffee, gruffly telling the customers how much they owed, a scowl on his face, despite your coaxing for him to smile every now and again.

“Hurts my face,” he grunted, but smiled, nonetheless, when you gave him a pleading kiss on his bearded cheek.

He retained that smile when he greeted the next customer.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” Frank’s familiar voice greeted. You turned around to see him looking your Uncle up and down with interest. “Another macho man to help you mind your till, Lily? You must tell me your secret!”

“Hi Frank,” you greeted, “This is my Uncle Bill. Uncle Bill, this is Frank, he’s a retired art professor, volunteering here for the summer.”

Your Uncle Bill stood stock still where he was, staring at Frank, before mumbling something about needing to get something from his truck. Frank chirped a cheerful goodbye to him, got his coffee and left. Your Uncle Bill came back 20 minutes later, sans anything in his hands, clearing the tables, eyes looking around as if looking for someone.

He spent the day complaining about the truck being too cramped, too hot, too wobbly, the music too loud, the food too dry, the customers too smiley, the sun too bright, the bathrooms too far. But you, being used to his complaining, just smiled along and entertained him the best you could, appreciative that he gave up his day to spend time with you in this ‘too everything’ environment. He insisted on taking you out to dinner, driving behind your truck after closing, keeping you company as you took it through the wash, and parked in your garage, before driving you home after, letting you hug him for five whole minutes to show him how much you appreciated him spending the day with you.

You woke up the Thursday morning to a picture from Ellie of her, Sarah and Joel with sushi between their teeth, grinning at the camera, making your heart soar at the little family, reunited.

You drove up to your usual spot early the next morning to your Uncle Bill waiting.

“Uncle Bill? What are you doing here? I thought I won’t see you ‘til Sunday,” you said, hugging him as he helped you down from the truck, shutting the door behind you.

“Just wanted to spend some more time with you,” he said, “I had fun yesterday, just wanted to have another go at it.”

Uh huh. Right.

Well, no one would hear you complain. You enjoyed having him around. So you went about your day, him by your side. He started easing up a bit as the day went by, particularly after Frank made his daily coffee stop, smiling his reluctant smile to your customers, staying until closing, having dinner with you and hugging you goodbye.

And again on Friday.

He was rather moody on Saturday and asked you to close Sunday.

He was back Monday, looking jittery as hell, and when Frank left to go to class with his coffee, your Uncle Bill ran after him, asking him if he would be free to join the two of you for lunch.

“I thought you would never ask,” Frank said, giving your Uncle Bill his card. “See you at noon,” he said, before turning around to leave, giving your dear old uncle a dazzling smile as he did.

You stood in the doorway of your truck as your Uncle Bill smiled wider than you had ever seen him, your head tilting trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, your eyes focused on your dear old uncle, who was now staring at the card Frank gave him intently, joy written all over his face.

Wait… was he…

Oh.

Oh...

Part 7

[sadhours]

See You Again

billy hargrove x female reader

a/n: I exist guys. requests are open!

contents: 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (f and m receiving), reader thinks she might be a prostitute, p in v

summary: you’re a house keeper, and a hot professional surfer pays you to come clean his house

When you accepted the house keeping job, you hadn’t expected the guy to be sex on legs. But here you are, wearing leggings and a loose white t-shirt, buckets of cleaning supplies in each hand while you look up into the icy blue eyes of Mr. Hargrove. He’s in a sleeveless t-shirt, golden arms on display and board shorts, his hair is wavy and long. His house was huge, you knew he was a professional surfer from your quick phone calls but seeing his house, he must’ve been really good at it. Famous maybe. You didn’t know much about surf boarding, had no clue you could make this much money from it.

“Come in,” he says, opening the door wide, “Sorry. My plans got canceled but I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”

“Oh, no,” you gush, looking around at the vast foyer as you walk in, this might have been a crew job. You curse yourself for not asking about the square footage of the place. “Don’t even worry about it.”

The house is already clean, so maybe you don’t need more people. It’ll take you a little longer than anticipated but the guys gorgeous so you don’t really mind.

“Here,” he motions towards the hall, “Let me give you a tour.”

The house was decorated pretty minimally. There’s prints of what you assume are him riding waves all over. Tall surfboards line the back wall of the living room. It’s pretty much spotless. A handful of dishes in the sink and a light film of dust on things, but it’s very tidy.

“Your house is beautiful,” you tell him, to which he waves his hand.

“Ah, thanks. It’s a blessing I get to do what I love to afford a place like this. Anyways, I’ll let you get started. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” you nod and set down your buckets.

Billy disappears and you get started with the kitchen, washing the few dishes in the sink and then tackle the stove, oven and fridge. The fridge is pretty empty, but it’s interesting to see what he’s got in it. A six pack of beer and a ton of fresh fruits and vegetables.

Eventually you make your way to the bathrooms, first the guest one which is very obviously unused and you can’t help but think that maybe he’s lonely in such a big house. You push the thoughts aside, you’re here for work. And he might be hot as all hell but you’re professional and besides, a guy that good looking has to have a girlfriend. You finish up the guest bathroom and the half bathroom before starting on the master one. It’s huge. A shower with two nozzles, two vanities, a rather large toilet room and huge bathtub with jets. You’re bent over the bath tub, scrubbing away at the dirt caked on the sides. It’s clear he uses the tub every day. He’s got candles all around it, along with a variety of epsom salts and soaps. As you bring the sponge along the dip of the tub, you feel two hands grabbing at your hips. You crane your head to see Billy standing behind you, biting his lip as he peers at your ass.

“Sorry,” he apologizes but doesn’t move his hands, your thighs start to warm. You’re absolutely frozen, speechless as he smoothes his hand over the curve of your ass and then squeezes. “Couldn’t help myself…” he muses, his breathing a bit labored.

You can tell him to get his hands off of you. Stand up, turn around, slap him across the face with your sudsy glove and storm out. But you can’t recall the last time a man’s been so forward with you and you liked the way his hands felt on you. And god, he’s so fucking gorgeous. He bends over, using the hand that’s not on your ass to move your hair back and whispers in your ear, “You have such a nice ass.”

A moan slips from your lips, causing Billy to squeeze your flesh again. His teeth catch your earlobe as he presses his strained erection against your ass.

“Is this okay?” he asks lowly, nuzzling his nose against the shell of your ear.

“Yes!” you squeak out, throat tight as you struggle to catch your breath.

Billy growls, maneuvering his hand underneath you to grope your tits as he kisses against your jaw. It’s happened so quick, you can’t believe it. Your body is aflame with arousal, your center soaking through your underwear and most likely, your leggings. His lips are soft yet firm, hungry as he litters kisses against your sensitive skin. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them over your ass and taking your thong with them. He sits back on his heels, grabbing your ass with both hands and squeezing. He chuckles lowly, “You’re dripping.”

“Mhm,” you mumble out, dropping your head as he dips his head and licks up the slick coating your thighs. “Fuck,” you exhale, squeezing the sponge in your hand.

“Tastes so good,” he compliments and then circles his tongue around your eager hole. The action pulls a desperate whine from your chest. You feel trapped against the edge of the tub, his hands holding you in place as he spreads your cheeks and licks at your glistening folds. His tongue is strong, has all your nerves screaming out in ecstasy as he rolls it expertly up and down, finally prodding at your hole. Billy penetrates you as deep as he can with his tongue, his thumbs holding your lips open for more access. It’s excruciating. Not quite as deep as you need but incredibly pleasurable. He pulls back and then you feel his fingers pressing at your eager cunt. You can hear him spit and before you know it, he’s entering you with the digits. It pushes a moan from you, satisfied yet surprised. Billy pumps his fingers in and out, groaning as he watches.

“You’re gonna take my cock so well,” he forebodes, making your spine tingle in anticipation.

He angles his thick digits just right, hitting the pads of them against your spongy spot and you cry out, eyes crossing and doubling your vision. Suddenly, his thumb finds your clit and he’s rubbing it in tight, quick circles while he pushes repeatedly against that spot deep inside you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp out, squeezing your eyes shut.

Billy works quick and relentless. The pressure at the pit of your stomach is building at an alarming rate. You can’t even make yourself cum this fast. The man knows what he’s doing. And it’s something you don’t know how to do. It hits you like a ton of bricks. A rush of pleasure tearing through you as you spasm against the tub, voice wrecked with how loud you moan out. Vision goes white, a ringing in your eyes as you ride the waves. You’re panting hard and his fingers are still shoved deep inside you when you come to. Then you feel his tongue, licking up the mess you’ve made and you whine out, squirming while the grip on your hip tightens.

“Billy,” you whimper out, “too much.”

He doesn’t let up, instead moves his mouth down and sucks at your clit. You yelp, your body moving upright. You pull your gloves off, turning your body and pushing him down onto the tile floor. There’s a cocky grin on his face, looking up at you as you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off, tossing it aside and then unhook your bra. You shimmy out of your leggings next, kicking your shoes off and make quick work of peeling Billy’s clothes off his body. When you tug his briefs down, his stiff cock pops out. The tip leaking as it slaps up against his abs. His mouth falls open as you circle your fingers around the base, squeezing slightly. His cock is beautiful. The prettiest one you’ve ever seen. Thick shaft, pulsing vein up the side of it and a plump, shiny tip. Billy lets out this breathless laugh when you squeeze him again.

“Come on,” he drawls, “you can stop staring and get your mouth on it.”

You don’t have to be told twice, lowering yourself and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, peering up at him. Billy exhales, hand knitting into your hair while he tells you, “Atta girl.”

You swallow around him, taking him a bit deeper in quick succession until he’s prodding at the back of your throat. Breathing through your nose, you hold still as you peer up at him. He’s propped up on his elbows so he can watch, eyebrows knit together while he chews on his lower lip. His blue eyes are dark with lust and they widen just slightly as you begin to bob up and down on his pulsing cock. It’s thick, makes your jaw ache but you’re determined to give him an orgasm he’ll remember. You pull off and give kitten licks to the tip, fingers stroking his with ease thanks to the drool coating his shaft. He moans out, lips parting slightly as he rolls his hips up at you. Next, you swirl your tongue around his tip before taking him back in your mouth, humming at the salty but wonderful taste of him and absolutely loving the weight of his cock on your tongue. You lower your hand down and cradle his sack, rolling his balls in your hand which produces a particularly delicious moan from him. The timbre of his voice is intoxicating, makes you work even harder to make him cum. He knits his fingers in your hair and holds you still, jerking his hips up and forcing you to take it. A man that takes what he wants. Something you’d been needing and you didn’t even know it.

Billy chokes out another moan, “I’m close, baby.”

You don’t stop and he whines, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl. Gonna swallow every drop, huh?”

He releases, his hot spunk covering your tongue and it’s abnormal how good it tastes. You swallow it with ease and pull off, licking your lips as you peer up at him. He chuckles softly, raising his hands above his head as he catches his breath. The pair of you dress and you tuck your hair behind your ear, “I’ll uh, just finish up then.”

“Alright,” Billy smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. He leans down and kisses you softly on the lips, you try not to melt into it but ultimately fail. But he pulls away first, smacks your butt teasingly and saunters out of the bathroom.

All you have left is sweeping and mopping the expansive house. On shaky legs, you get it done before trailing to his home office. He’s at the computer, typing away when he notices you.

“All finished?” he asks as he stands, grabbing his wallet.

You nod, “Yep. It’s uh… all done.”

Billy smiles, places his hand on your waist as he guides you back to the front door. “We agreed on $250, right?”

“Uhm, yes.”

Billy opens his wallet, pulling out the bills and hands them to you, “Same time next week?”

“Absolutely,” you blush, pocketing the money. You carry your supplies out to the car and get in the front seat before you burst out in giggles, covering your face in utter disbelief that just happened.

***

Next week, you do something embarrassing. Well, you didn’t think it was embarrassing at first but when you actually show up to clean Billy’s house, you realize how foolish it was. You decided to wear an obscenely short skirt and a tank top to clean. But when you knock on the door, an angry looking redhead opens it.

“Uh, hi,” you flush, almost as red as her hair, “Is Mr. Hargrove here?”

“Mr— ew,” she cringes and then opens the door wider, “Billy! There’s a lady asking for you.”

You stand there, feeling ridiculous as you look at the girl. She’s pretty, looks a little too young for Billy but apparently that’s not any of your concern. He jogs up to the door, resting his forearm on the frame as he leans over the young girl and looks you up and down with a seductive smirk on his lips.

“This lady, is my house keeper. Come in,” he steps aside to let you in. “This is my kid sister, Maxine.”

“Max,” she corrects him with a roll of her eyes.

“Hi, Max,” you offer a polite smile. “I’ll just get to work, then.”

“We’ll be out of your hair,” he tells you, “I’m gonna go drop her off.”

You nod and walk further into the house, getting started on the kitchen. You’ve cleaned almost the entirety of the house by the time Billy returns. You’re dusting his bookshelf when you feel strong hands snake around your waist and lips on your ear.

“You usually clean houses dressed like this?” he purrs in your ear.

“No,” you admit, melting into his touch. “Didn’t know you’d have company.”

Billy snorts, “Either did I. Kid showed up on my doorstep. She does that a lot and then acts like she hates me.”

“You two seem close,” you turn to look at him.

“Getting there,” he shrugs, “Didn’t get along when I lived at home. It’s not important.” He smoothes his hand over the swell of your ass, kissing against your neck and then continues, “Wear this just for me?”

Your body ignites with desire but you don’t show it, not that easy. You continue dusting away, but you can’t help tilting your head just enough to give him more access to your skin. “Maybe,” you admit with a sigh.

Billy hums, grazing his fingertips along your bare thighs as he sloppily kisses at your neck. His touch almost has you melting, but you just keep on dusting the same row of books. He bites at your earlobe before he says, “Think you did. Want to drive me insane, don’t you?”

You whimper at the bite, eyes fluttering shut as you drop the feather duster. Billy presses his hips against your ass as he continues in your ear, “It’s working. Can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, gripping onto the sides of the bookshelf as Billy grinds against you.

He mouths at your pulse point, moving his hands around to grope your chest. Your head falls back to rest on his broad shoulder, hand snaking up to lace through his sandy curls. His broad tongue licks up your neck, erection apparent through his shorts against your inappropriate skirt. Suddenly the thought hits you, this is prostitution, right? You’re going to let him fuck you against his bookshelf, mop his floors and take a handful of cash. Sounds a lot like prostitution.

“You can’t pay me,” you gasp out but make no moves to stop him from groping you.

“And why’s that?” he laughs, pinching your perked nipples through your thin top, “You’ve done such a good job. Place looks spotless.”

“Because I’m about to let you fuck me against your bookshelf,” you insist.

“If we move to the bed can I still pay you?” he teases and you whip around.

“I don’t want you to pay me for sex.”

Billy blinks at you, a curious notch in his brow as his lips twitch upwards, “I’m not paying you for that part.”

“But—“

“We agreed on two fifty for cleaning, yeah?”

You nod.

“And what did I give you?”

“Two fifty,” you reply.

His face looks pensive now, tilting his head, “Don’t ya think I would’ve gave you more if I was paying for the sex?”

You hadn’t really thought of it like that. That’s a good point, you figure. Because you really did clean and you would’ve charged the same price had you not sucked him off.

“Okay, fine,” you relent and turn back around, “you can still pay me.”

“Atta girl,” he praises as he spanks you playfully before pulling your skirt up over your ass and hooks his fingers in your panties. He peels them down and you kick them off your ankles. Then you feel the swollen head of his cock rubbing between your cheeks. You sigh out, holding onto the shelves as you spread your legs a little further. His lips are back on your neck as he swirls his tip around your eager hole. He groans, muffled against your skin while he slides the head in. It’s so lovely, stretches just right and he’s huffing the deeper he goes. His breath is hot on your face, fanning against your cheekbone and the slight minty scent raids your senses. You blink up at him, drunk on attraction. God, he’s so pretty. More than pretty. Beautiful, angelic. Golden curls against soft, clear skin and his lips are so pink. He thrusts his hips languidly but deep, holding onto your waist for leverage as he pants against your face.

“Billy,” you whine as he bottoms out, feeling wonderfully full. “Fu-uck…”

“Yeah? Feel good, kitten?” he asks, flicking his tongue against the corner of your mouth, “So perfect, taking me so well.”

“God,” you gush, rocking your ass back against his thick thighs. “So fucking good.”

“Pussy’s so tight,” he growls, low and guttural.

Billy snaps his hips harder, dragging you along his cock as he fills you so deep you feel it in your throat. It’s exhilarating. The fact that you know nothing about this man but there’s this intense, animistic connection between you. The pair of you just cannot control yourselves and that’s why you’re letting this absolutely beautiful stranger fuck you raw in the middle of your cleaning duties. It seems foolish; he’s willing to fuck you without a rubber, how many any women get the pleasure? Because it it’s a pleasure. The heat of his cock, the veins not being cushioned by thin rubber is amazing. And it feels incredibly intimate. Passionate— because it’s so rushed and desperate, that neither of you even thought about a condom.

Billy’s fingers dig into your hips while he pounds into you, panting against your face. He slides his hand down and starts working the pads of his fingers in circles against your clit. It’s over for you. If this doesn’t become a routine, you are absolutely doomed because there’s absolutely no way another man is ever going to fuck you like Billy is now. Books are tumbling down to your feet, his thrusts so powerful that your spine tingles.

“I’m coming,” you gasp, tossing your head back as your orgasm crashes through you.

“Good girl,” he purrs in your ear, “Cum all over my cock. Just like that.”

You whimper, riding out the waves that seem never ending because Billy doesn’t slow down or go easy. He grabs tighter on your hips, driving his cock in deep as he pants against your ear. Billy pulls out, painting your ass cheeks with his hot spunk. He groans as he does so, then spins you around and grabs your jaw, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You’re completely lightheaded from it and you almost collapse when he pats your thigh and asks, “Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

[baji-sideblog]

Flowers and Guns

Cw reader’s hand gets hurt, sexual harassment, alludes to dub con/non con in the end

❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀

You’re new to this city, Lav Amoria, the capital of Cherubs. Every building around was built with the idea of trees in mind. A cylinder of concrete that branched off to hold office buildings, homes, and everything else. They’re still buildings on the ground though they’re typically small businesses or apartment complexes. Plus a couple of buildings for tourists. There is one thing that is everywhere though lights! Lots of gorgeous lights and signs everywhere.

You just moved here a few days ago, looking for a new start on life. And so far it’s been a struggle the job you got here fired you on your first day. For no real reason besides apparent budget cuts. Leaving you to walk around looking for a potential place hiring. As you walk around you spot a small flower shop it looks pretty empty, but you need a job. Taking a deep breath you walk over and enter the shop. The flowers are pretty decent if not bland, like no one really put any thought into the stock. The decor was ok, overall it’s just a bland store.

“Um hello? Is anyone here?”

You stand by the register waiting for anyone to come out. You really hope you’re not just breaking it, the door is unlocked so they should be open. Hopefully.

As your mind races about the potential breaking in you may or may not have committed, the back door swings opens and a cherub with peacock feathers gets tossed out of it.

“Johnny I swear to the gods, if you don’t fix up your mess you’re going to be swimming in your own blood,” a huge muscular chubby man walks out after him, a fat cigar in his mouth.

The first thing you notice about him is his cherub and incubus traits. His antlers look like deaths hands ready to strangle a person.

“I’ll fix it boss, I’ll fix it I promise,” Johnny stands up dusting himself off.

You slowly take a step back, but the ‘boss’ lifts up his hand pointing at you without looking.

“Hold it toots, what brings you to our uh little shop of ours.”

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything! I was just looking for a job,” you squeak out scared.

“Well there’s no job here so get the fu-“

The boss dust his cigar ash onto Johnny’s head making him yelp and try to shake it off.

“Excuse his behavior sweet thing, he has no manners,” he walks closer to you, “We have been looking for a proper cashier for the business. My other employees are busy with other jobs. So having a good looking face like yourself here to front for the store would be good.”

He leans down to meet your face, his eyes empty of any emotion besides a sick type of joy. He takes a drag off his cigar before blowing the smoke into your face, making you cough and wheeze. What did you get into.

“I uh, I don’t know…”

He slams his claw hand onto the wall behind you blocking off the door, “Come now, don’t be like that. You’ll be paid decently all you have to do is run the shop and tell us if anyone tries snooping around. This job is something you can’t just refuse, if you catch my drift.”

You gulp and nod, “W-When do I start?”

“Today, since Johnny has to go clean up something. You’ll be needed right away.” He reaches on the top of your head and plucks something. Pulling it over to his nose you can see it’s a purple thought flower, fear. “Thanks for the meal, sweet thing.”

He eats the flower and grabs your arm, firmly pulling you to the cash register. He signals to the peacock cherub to get the fuck out, which he quickly does.

“Now little thing, you know how to work this right?”

Looking down at the cash register you see it’s an older one, they probably got for cheap with a card reader attachment that looks like it could break any second. At least the buttons on it are simple to read and use.

You nod making the man smile, “Good now I don’t got to worry about training you. And here by the way you’ll need this.”

He hands you a little black book inside it is filled with photos of cops and their names.

“Any of these guys come in press the button under the desk, if they try coming towards the back you spam it like your life depends on it. Cause well it does. If you try to pull anything or run, my boys will find you and you’ll regret testing me,” he grabs your left hand pulling it close to him, and he dusts his cigar ash onto it. You whine and whimper feeling the ash burn against your skin till he blows it off of you, “Wouldn’t want to burn that precious little face of yours now would we?”

You shake your head no, and he tightens his grip on your left hand bruising it.

“Use your words.”

“No, sir.”

“Good job, sweet thing. You deserve a prize,” he lets go of your hand, walking over to the cabinet behind you pulling out an apron with a flower on the front and the name of the store, “Here you go, your new work apron.”

He puts it on you and ties a bow in the back. Taking a step back he examines you closely, before a frown goes across his face. He grabs a nearby rose and removes the thorns, then he tucks the flower between your hair and ear.

“Perfect now you look more like a proper florist. Give me a spin.”

You try to hide the confuse look on your face, as you do what he says, spinning for him.

“Avebu, avebu.”

“Avebu?”

“Avebu. Now be good and man the register. I’ll be working in the back. Do not enter it.”

“Yes sir.”

You can see his tail feathers flicker hearing you call him sir, “You’re learning fast sweet thing. I can use someone with decent behavior like yours. Especially someone who’s easy to train. Tell me what’s your life like?”

Hesitantly you explain your life to him answering any and all questions he ask.

“You keep getting better and better, you’re such a normal person. A normal person like you, will make the prefect cover for me. Even with many people in my pocket, it’s best to always have some extra protection,” he puts his hands on your hips bring you closer to him, “You’ll be my fiancé, my little dear who just moved here to be with me. And now works with me cause why wouldn’t you help your future husband with his little flower business. And before you try to argue with me about it. You don’t have a choice not if you want to keep your tongue.”

His feathered hands trail down and grab your ass fondling you. You look away uncomfortable till he finally lets you do, stepping into the back. You let out a breath and lay against the counter.

“I shouldn’t have ever come here.”

The day goes by slow, but as soon as it hit 4 pm and he let you go. You book it back to your apartment and lock the door. Collapsing on your bed for the day.

You hear banging on your door waking you up with a startle. Grabbing your phone you check the time seeing it’s 7:30 am you must have passed out last night. Getting up you open the front door to see a secretary bird cherub standing there. Her long white hair covers frames her face perfectly, as if she’s made from marble.

“Oh hello. May I help you?”

“Yeah, my uncle wanted to make sure you came to work on time.”

“Your uncle…oh”

“Yeah. Come on pipsqueak, get dress so we can get going,” she grabs your shoulders and push you to your room to change, “and don’t try climbing out the window, I’ve been given permission to shoot your legs.”

After a few minutes mostly constantly of panicking internally, you step out in some clothes and your apron. The woman examines you before pointing to your head.

“Your flower that’s apart of the uniform as well.”

You grab it off your side table and she puts it in your apron pocket. Saying it’s her uncles orders for you not to put it on yourself. She drags you to her car and drives to the flower shop. It’s very awkward the silence and the fact she has permission to shoot you. Plus you don’t want to see that man..especially not after he grabbed your ass.

“…so how are you two related?”

She gives you a side glare making you shut your mouth tightly.

“I’m going to get shot.”

“He’s my dad’s brother,” she sighs out, “His death was sudden but not surprising in this line of business. My uncle took me in after his death.”

“I see, I’m sorry about your loss,” you don’t know what else to say.

She nods and stares back at the road, parking in front of the store. When you two step inside you spot the boss waiting for you by the cash register.

“Ah, Patty thank you for bringing them here,” he ruffles her hair and she swats his hand away. Before trying to fix it.

“Tu avey cautus,” she starts walking to the back, “Ik tu vesta tu, captas tu.”

“Gralus.”

When she closes the door the boss turns to you holding out his hand expectantly. You blink confused till you realize he wants the flower. Quickly taking it out placing it in his hand. He hums and tucks the flower between your ear and hair like yesterday.

“Avebu. Now open up shop, and remember if anyone in the book appears press the button.”

“Yes sir.”

He hides his tiny smirk and walks into the back. You get everything ready for the day and serve the one or two customers that drop by. Most of your time is spent by yourself, cleaning up to distract yourself. Trying to ignore the unshakable feeling of dread that surrounds you.

Hours pass by with no one coming in, your lunch break is almost here in about ten minutes. You’re in the middle of wiping down a shelf when you hear the door open. Rushing back to the desk, you look at the potential customer who came in. He seems familiar, opening the black book, you try to keep a poker face realizing the man is a cop. Officer Graham, he looks like he’s been around the block. You press the button under the desk panic filling your heart. You don’t want to get in trouble with the law, but you also rather not get murdered by your boss.

Graham walks over to you, “Hello, I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh uh yeah, I just moved here.”

“Hm, and you so happen to work here?”

“I just uh it was the only job that would have me.”

He stares deeply into your eyes, till his face relaxes and he sighs, “I see. A word of advice you better be careful out and about the city. Even in this time of peace, some of us cherubs still have a want for bloodshed. And those who should know better have been letting those who shouldn’t have free rein. I don’t want you or any other innocent folk getting caught in this mess. They’ll turn a blind eye to anything these days sadly.”

You nod letting out a shaky breath, “Thank you…I, I thought this place would be safe..”

“I know, many people do. They do their best to hide the mess to not ruin tourism…if you need anything you can call me,” He hands you his number, “Day or night I’ll be there. You’re a good egg I can tell.”

You tear up a little bit from his kindness, a part of you just wants to break down and tell him everything that’s happening so he can save you.

“If your boss here does anything sketchy you can make a difference by coming forward, even the higher ups won’t be able to deny the truth.”

“Officer Graham, you’re not bothering my fiancé now are you?” your boss walks up behind you putting his hand on your hip. His grip on you is tight and uncomfortable, “Don’t make me kick you out for scaring them with all your conspiracy junk. They’re a delicate flower, and a man’s gotta protect what’s his. But what would you know about that.”

You force your mouth shut looking away, trying not to shiver and squirm away from the boss’s touch. No matter how much you want to run from his grip, you know it’s no use.

“You shut your mouth Wolfgang. You’re not allowed to talk to me like that. And they can speak for themself.”

“Heh, you forget this isn’t your property. And as their fiancé I can say what is good for them. And if you going to harass my dear or me, I have full rights to kick you out. And there’s nothing you can do about that. What will it be, officer?”

Graham growls at Wolfgang his feathers puffing up. You shrink back scared something bad is going to happen you don’t want to get hurt. Graham’s eyes glance to you and seeing your fear the man huffs backing off.

“Fine, I’m onto you. And you, you better take care and consider who you’re going to ‘marry.’” Graham walks out of the shop leaving you alone with the boss.

Wolfgang spins you around and slams you against the counter his arms trapping you, “Hand me his card now.”

You do, your hands shaking at your salvation being stolen from you. He grabs the card ripping it to pieces tossing it in the trash can.

“You’re never allowed to speak to that man again. I can’t have my sweet little fiancé get tangled up with anyone or become a rat. Especially when you’re my cover,” he takes off one of his rings and a fancy ribbon from the counter. Making a makeshift necklace he puts it on you, “I’ll get you a proper engagement ring soon, sweet thing. For now this will do. I can’t have anyone thinking you’re up for grabs.”

Wolfgang looks around and walks over to the front door locking it and pulls down the blinds blocking any peeping eyes.

“Everyone already left through the back, which means we’re by ourselves for a good two hours. Nows a better time than ever to start teaching you how to be a good fiancé for me,” he grabs your shoulders forcing you onto your knees, “You’ll be expected to fulfill all the real duties of a spouse. Let’s start with getting you use to using that throat or yours.”

❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀

Avebu-beautiful

Tu avey cautus-they’re good cover

Ik tu vesta tu, captas tu-if you want them, take them

Gralus-thank you

❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀

[huffelpuff210]

Only mine Part 2 Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent reader

Only Mine Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader

Steve looked everywhere at this party, but found you no where, He decided to give up his search coming home disappointed and empty handed, The next day was spring break everyone leaving for home, or going on some sort of vacation, Steve was walking toward the coffee shop you frequented when he seen your room mate leaving the dorm, listening to the conversation. 

“You sure y/n? I feel bad leaving you when you are battling a terrible cold.” She says holding the phone to her ear as she opens her car door throwing some of her stuff in the back of the car, 

“Fine but if you get any worse see a doctor I would hate for you to die on me while I’m on vacation.” She chuckles getting in the car and starting it, 

Steve grew concerned He looks at the dorm, He knew which dorm room was yours following you home a few nights ago, He knew this was his chance, tonight was when everyone was gone, and you were alone, He decided he would come back then, He already had the key to your dorm, All he had to do was take it from the office, He smirked knowing tonight was when he was going to get his girl. 

You sat on the couch covered in a blanket, a tissue box on the nearby end table, you were too tired to even make yourself any sort of food, You were pretty sure you had the flu, You barley had any energy to even go to the bathroom, Your cough hurt extremely bad, You thought you were dying too tired to even move off the couch, the show you were watching you were barely paying attention, 

You take some of the medicine to help you can feel yourself getting tired as your heavy eyelids slowly flutter shut, 

The sound of your door shutting echoed in your ears but you could not bring yourself to open your eyes you just assumed that it was just Jessica coming back for something, but soon you felt someone stroke your cheek. 

Steve slowly made his way through your dorm room finding you fast asleep on the couch, he rampaged through your dresser grabbing some of your clothes putting them in a bag, He walked over to you stroking your cheek with his knuckles, 

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll take care of you..” He whispered 

Scooping you up in his arms. carrying you out of your dorm, 

Your heavy eyelids slowly flutter open, and You notice you are no longer on the couch in your dorm, You slowly sit up and notice the room was massive, the bed was huge, the room looked modern with gray walls, the sheets and bedding were white, the bed frame was a thick wood with bed posts, 

The door opens revealing Professor Rogers with a tray of soup and a glass of orange juice. you were extremely confused.

“Professor?” Your voice comes out raspy 

“Please doll, call me Steve since we’re going to be spending some time together.” He says 

He sets the tray on the top of a dresser, that looks like it was carved from a tree, 

He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling your forehead, his hand cold to the touch, 

“Still have a fever, I guess that’s what happens when you have no one to take care of you,” He says with a smile tucking some of your hair behind your ear. 

You were confused, 

“How did I get here?” You asked trying to get out of bed but he pushed you down 

“I brought you here and you need to stay in bed.” He says 

“Professor I need to get back home.” You say trying to get out of bed again But he quickly pushes you down again. But this time anger fills his eyes and he has you pinned down by your throat, 

“You are going to listen to me doll or there are going to be consequences.” He says 

You look up at him in horror, he is your professor, he was said to be a good guy retired hero, why was he doing this to you what had you done to be treated this way you didn’t understand it, 

“Do you understand?’ He asked glaring down at you 

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod slowly, 

He smiled liking your answer 

“That’s my good girl.” He says 

You knew you couldn’t over power him, He was far stronger and bigger than you, 

You were a petite thing, your dad and brothers always teased you for it, but you never really cared about it until now, he grabs the bowl of soup feeding you the soup, you ate most of it until you told him you were full, He handed you the Orange juice, you drank half a glass, until you started feeling drowsy your vision blurry, 

“Get some rest doll, once you are better we will go over a few rules.” He says smiling down at you, you could barley lift your limbs, Steve lifted your legs putting them under the blankets, Kissing your forehead your heavy eyelids slowly fluttering shut, 

Steve watched as you tried fighting sleep, but eventually gave in, He smiled at the thought of having you all to himself, all he had to do was rough you up a bit and you submitted to him, He knew you would be perfect for him, 

He also knew you didn’t need to go to school anymore, He was going to take care of you, but being a few months shy of graduating he figured he would humor your family, knowing how a military family worked, he was going to have to humor them and let you at least graduate, that way he wouldn’t run into any problems, but after that, you were going to be his perfect wife weather you wanted that or not, and sure he was a bit older than you, but he didn’t care, you were perfect, it was hard to find a girl like you in this day and age and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let you go.