#Only she can acutally race with him

[scribe-of-hael]

Au time ⚡

Au where Vigh is a bot and has a trine with Smokescreen and Mirage as her trine mates I will NOT be taking criticism thank you v much ♡

Vigh would just be called Volt or Voltage. High Voltage (if ya wanna be formal) ppl still call her V or Vi. She'd also be an Autobot ! (Yes i make So many Cons but she would be a autobot!) She has , you guessed it, electricity like abilities. How original i know.

And yes I want Knockout to poke her with his shock staff only for it to have zero affect on her. And just the look of "Where would you like to be punched?" Because at first they are enemies it's only natural. And he just gets sent back.

Meeting on the battle field to meeting during racing. First time he sees her , he chases her off the road. But she snaps back and says "HEY THIS MY DOWN TIME, if I don't say anything, you don't. We race. We have fun. Nofighting, just the track."

Knockout thinks she is lying but can't stay away from the track for long. They decide that the race track is a neutral zone.

Every time they leave the track they learn a little more about each other. Time sudden oh, they are meeting outside the track. Driving secretly with each other.

We love a good star crossed lovers divided by war love story. It's fine they are fine.

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 2

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: I can never tell time length in this show. Not sure how many days truly passed for the first part of this season so this will be my own timeline.

Im on a roll I wasn’t expecting P2 to come out the same day. The story will get much better- just trying to get the set up for the story done. :)

Not proofread

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: nothing really just some story building. Maybe a slightly mean Rafe for like 2 seconds though. :)

A few days had passed and you and Kie decide to go shopping. You hadn’t spoken to Rafe since the day of the race. As you and Kie exited a store, engrossed in conversation, you collided with a couple of people. You immediately apologized and looked up, only to find Rafe and Sofia standing before you, her arm hooked around his once again.

“Hey! You look amazing! How have you been?” Sofia exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she recognized you. Rafe stood beside her with a smug smirk, saying nothing.

“Great! You look amazing too,” you replied, forcing a cheerful smile. The tension in the air was palpable, especially knowing that Sofia likely knew about your history with Rafe, and you both were acutely aware of what had happened just days before, right under her nose.

Kie stood behind you, visibly disgusted by Rafe. Hoping he wouldn’t notice the shopping bag in your hand, you discreetly slid it behind you and nudged Kie toward the Twinkie.

Before you could catch your breath, Sofia chimed in again, “So, whose baby are you shopping for?” Panic surged through you for a brief moment, but you quickly replied, “My cousin. I reconnected with my mom, and my cousin’s daughter’s birthday is coming up. We’ve gotten really close, and I wanted to get her something special.” You surprised yourself with how smoothly that lie rolled off your tongue.

“Is that who the ��V’ on your necklace—” Rafe’s eyebrow arched at your answer, but he cut Sofia off. “You’re talking to your mom again? Since when? You never told me.”

“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” you shot back defensively.

“Well, where does she live? Where have you been?” Rafe pressed, and frustration bubbled inside you. “Stop.” You turn back to Sofia. “I really need to go. It was good to see you, Sofia.” You lightly touched her arm, shot Rafe a warning look, and hurried back to Kie.

“He’s such an asshole! How could he do that to you and then act so smug?” Kie exclaimed, her anger evident.

“I don’t know, Kie. It’s fine. Let’s just go.”

The next day, you were helping Sarah at the shop, stocking shelves and sharing laughter over silly jokes. Just as you were in the middle of a story, Rafe unexpectedly burst through the front door, startling you. He grabbed your arm, pulling you away from Sarah, who protested loudly, “What the hell, Rafe? Get off of her!”

“Sarah, you’re really not in a position to tell me what to do since this is all your fault,” Rafe shot back, his tone icy. You looked at him, confusion washing over you.

“You might want to watch who’s around when you’re parading around talking about how cute your niece is,” he added, his gaze piercing.

You turned back to Sarah, shock and dread settling in. Your blood ran cold, and a wave of numbness enveloped you. “Just go outside, Rafe. I’ll be right out,” you said quietly, trying to regain your composure.

You needed a moment to process everything happening around you. Your heart raced as you spoke softly to Sarah, “I am so, so sorry. It must’ve been when I was talking to Cleo, and you sent me that video of her with your mom. I didn’t think anyone close to Rafe was around. I didn’t realize; I'm really sorry.” You could see the guilt etched on her face, knowing she never intended any harm.

“It’s okay. It was bound to happen, I guess,” you replied, pulling her into a comforting hug. You took a deep breath and headed outside to face Rafe.

He stood on the porch, rubbing his buzz cut, and turned to you as you stepped out. “What the fuck? Are you kidding me right now? Your cousin’s baby? I knew you were lying—I can tell when you’re lying.”

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Well, I know now, so you better explain everything to me.” Just as you prepared to respond, the sound of bikes pulling up caught your attention. JJ and John B quickly hopped off and approached, with JJ stepping in front of you, his eyes narrowing at Rafe. “What the hell are you doing here, Rafe?”

“Your sister has a lot of explaining to do to me—back off,” Rafe retorted.JJ turned back to you, a puzzled look on his face, and you assured him, “It’s fine,” as you directed him and John B inside.

Pushing Rafe away, you led him down to the docks, searching for the right words to start. He took the initiative, his voice steady yet filled with tension. “So it’s true? This isn’t just something misheard?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his anger and confusion. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I really don’t have any words to describe how sorry I am.” Tears began to well up in your eyes.

“Don’t cry. You don’t get to cry after what you did to me.” His words stung, and the tears fell harder now.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Please just tell me what’s going on,” he urged, his voice softening slightly. You both settled onto a bench facing the water, the calmness of the waves contrasting the turmoil inside you.

“I—um—I,” you stammered, taking a deep breath. “She’s a year and two months. Her name is Vivienne Rae Cameron-Maybank. She has my tan skin and lips but your hair color and your eyes. She’s really beautiful—so bubbly and full of life. She’s innocent, blissfully unaware of how cruel the world can be. I envy her.”

Rafe ran his palm over his face, the weight of the revelation settling heavily between you. “A year and two months. That means—”

“I knew before I left,” you interrupted, your voice trembling slightly. “That’s what I was doing in the bathroom. JJ called me saying he needed me, and then you said you needed to handle something. I just threw everything in my bag and raced out the door. I didn’t expect all of this to happen afterward.”

Rafe looked at you, his expression a mix of hurt and frustration. “You should’ve just told me. It would’ve changed everything.”

“Maybe, but when I came back, you wanted nothing to do with me. All these thoughts raced through my mind, and I told myself you wouldn’t want her either.” You had always known that Rafe dreamed of being a dad—someone who would show unconditional love while teaching his child to navigate life’s challenges. He longed to be the complete opposite of Ward, striving to give his children what he never had.

He never expected to find himself in this situation, especially not in his early twenties. He thought he’d have more time to prepare, but now he stood heartbroken, grappling with the reality that he had missed so much. Anger simmered within him as he wrestled with feelings of inadequacy, thoughts of not being a good father creeping in.

“How could you do this to me?” Rafe stood up, gripping the dock railing as if it were his lifeline. “FUCK!”

“Rafe, please calm down,” you pleaded, your heart racing.

“No! You think you can hide this from me and then tell me to calm down?! I’m her father, and you kept her from me. Where is she?”

“She’s with my mom back on the mainland.” You stood up as he moved closer, towering over you. “You go get her and bring her here. I want to meet her. You need to make up for all the time you stole from me.” His finger pointing in your face as her gets words out through his teeth gritting together. “Okay, I can go get her tonight. You can come by tomorrow at 2 to meet her.” He scoffed. “Come by? You’re bringing my child into the cut? No way.”

“Sorry that your daughter is half Pogue, Rafe, but if you want to meet her, you’re coming to where I’m comfortable. This isn’t a negotiation.” You could see the regret in his eyes for implying anything about your background—it wasn’t about you; it was about him already being in protective father mode. He knew the cut wasn’t the safest place.

“Fine, 2:00 to meet her. I’ll be there. See ya.” He then turned and drove off, leaving you standing there, heart racing.

As you made your way back inside, everyone rushed to meet you. “What’s going on?” “Is he seriously mad at you after everything he’s done?” “You’re not going to trust him with her, right?!” The questions bombarded you at a hundred miles a minute.

You walked past them in silence, but JJ ran after you. “Where are you going?”

“It’s five hours back to the mainland where my mom is. I gotta get going now if I want to be back at a good time.” You grabbed your bag and headed to the car.

“You’ve got to be joking! After everything he did, you’re giving in this easy?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and smile at your brother. Partly because you loved how protective he was over you. Especially being 3 years younger.

“You don’t understand, JJ. He’s still her father.” Ignoring the rest of his protests, you drove off.

In the back of your mind, you felt the weight of your secrets. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell JJ that it was all your fault. He already despised Rafe, and you had convinced yourself that is Rafe wanted nothing to do with you he would want Vivienne either. You made him promise never to bring it up to Rafe, and shockingly, he hadn’t. Only Sarah knew the full truth. Hiding this from Rafe had eaten away at you every day, but you were too cowardly to face it.

You returned home around 11:00 PM, a full 11 hours after the morning’s events. Thanking god for your easygoing daughter, you knew she would be asleep in her car seat, having fallen asleep at her usual time of 8:00 PM. You’d have no trouble carrying her inside.

As you entered, everyone greeted you with soft whispers, crowding around you and Vivienne. JJ had made a makeshift crib in the room that used to be Luke’s and had saved you some dinner after your long day. You gently placed Vivienne in her crib, then joined the group outside.

You never tried to defend Rafe to them; they saw him as the bad guy. So when they started hounding you with questions again, you simply said you were giving him a shot. You knew they didn’t like him, but he deserved that much as her father. Nothing more. You finished eating and retreated inside, exhaustion weighing heavily on you from the day’s events.

Taglist-

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @calaryssia @leilanizcals @eg-dr3amer3

[mistiell]

I'm Starvin', Darlin'

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: Spencer realizes how touch starved he is when you, the newest member of the BAU, develop a habit of casually touching him throughout the day.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, bit of a misunderstanding towards the end, this hasn't been proofread so I might come back to correct some things later

A/N: So, I have been like, completely MIA for the passed few months, and I apologize for that. Life has been hectic and I haven't had any motivation. However, I'm back now! At least for a little while. This is my first fic for Spencer but I hope to write more for him in the future. There'l definitely be a part two to this sometime in the future, so look out for that.

Part 2

Spencer has never been one for physical affection.

Logically he knows that he needs a certain amount of it to survive, and he doesn’t particularly mind it anymore when Morgan claps him on the back or when he has to shake somebody’s hand. But when he’s pulled in for a hug, there’s this weird sort of anxiety that makes him worry about whether or not he’s holding on too tight or how long he can stay there without making it awkward. He’ll endure it if he thinks a hug would be the best way to comfort someone, but typically, he avoids them altogether.

That was, until you came along.

It was sunny out, and for the first time in a while, the blinds in the bullpen were pulled open to let the sun shine in. Spencer was sitting at his desk, flipping through his mound of paperwork when JJ had led you over to your new desk, right across from his. JJ had caught his attention to introduce you, but the moment he laid eyes on you, whatever she was saying went in one ear and out the other

You had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. 

“Spence.” JJ’s voice snapped him back into reality and he was suddenly acutely aware of how long he’d been staring.

“Hm?” You’d giggled at his dumbstruck expression and he swore he’d do anything to make you laugh like that again.

JJ stared at him expectantly for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and gesturing to you again, “I said, this is Agent L/n. She’s our newest member.”

“Oh, right, um, I’m Sp-Spencer Reid. Er– Doctor Spencer Reid.” He was halfway through mentally berating himself when you smiled oh so kindly at him, extending your hand.

“Y/n L/n. It’s nice to meet you, doctor.”

“Oh, um, you can just call me Reid.” 

“Right.” You very obviously looked him up and down in a way that made his heart race, “Reid.”

And then you sat down at your desk.

And he had to sit there and pretend he wasn’t utterly and entirely flustered by that tiny, microscopic interaction.

He came to realize about a month into your friendship that you were a touchy person by nature. You’d touch his arm when he made you laugh and sometimes you’d squeeze his shoulder before you sat down next to him at the round table. Six months into your career there and you’d gotten comfortable enough that you’d hug most of them when you showed up for drinks outside of work and playfully pinch Morgan’s arm or side when he got a little too brazen with his flirting. Sometimes you’d bump Spencer’s shoulder to tease him. It took a few times to get used to it, but eventually he started bumping you back.

Actually, he found that the more you touched him, the less he seemed to dislike it. In fact, he finds himself waiting for those casual displays of affection. Every time your skin meets his, he feels warm, revitalized. 

Which is why on one particularly late night, when he’s utterly exhausted and the two of you are the only ones in the office, he feels comfortable enough to do what he’s about to do.

He thinks about it for a long while, never one to do anything like this without properly thinking it through. He’s just so tired and this case was so draining that, as pathetic as he thinks it is, he finds himself wanting to ask for a hug.

He won’t. He’s not that confident yet. But he thinks that maybe there’s another way to get away with touching you in some capacity.

So he rolls his chair over to your desk, attempting to casually plop down next to you so his side is practically pressed against yours. To his surprise, it actually works, though his casual “plop” is more like a rather awkward “slip-and-almost-accidentally-knock-you-over”. But you don’t mind. Instead, you laugh and bump his shoulder a lot more gently than he bumped you.

“Watch it, clumsy.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles, awkwardly clearing his throat, “What are you working on?”

“The mountain of paperwork that’s been accumulating since I got here.” You huff a short, embarrassed puff of laughter as you glance down at a notepad he hadn’t noticed, “That, and doodling.”

“Doodling what?” He asks, though he wonders how much he’s actually going to be able to pay attention when he’s so focused on how warm your thigh and shoulder feel against his.

“Oh, um,” Is he crazy or are you blushing? “It’s embarrassing.”

“I won’t judge.” After a split second of deliberation, he gently shifts his weight into his shoulder to nudge you just a little.

“Promise?” You smile shyly and he can’t help but smile back.

“Promise.”

There’s a second where you hesitate before sliding the pad over for him to see. He uses his middle and index finger to drag it over a little more and what he’s met with makes his cheeks warm and his heart flutter about in his chest.

It’s him. 

You’ve drawn him at just about every angle, and in such detail that he wonders if you were trying to downplay your abilities or if this is really your definition of doodling. It’s clear you’ve done most of these by memory only because he’s had his head bent over his desk for the past few hours, and most of these are full views of his face. They’re unbelievably accurate, and he realizes you must look at him enough to have his facial features memorized.

“I-I know they’re not great, and I messed up your lips in a couple, but, uh–.”

“Wow.” He breathes in such genuine wonder that you cut yourself off. He looks up at you, a strange, viscous warmth weaving in between his ribs and settling to swirl in his stomach in such a way that it makes him feel a little sick. But, even more strangely, in a good way. He catches himself staring and quickly looks back at your artwork with a flustered smile, “I-I’m flattered. This is… I mean, you’re amazing.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, heat creeps up his neck and he rushes to correct himself, “I-I mean your work is amazing. Not that you aren’t amazing, because you are, but–.”

“Spence.” This time, it’s his turn to cut himself off. That’s the first time you’ve ever called him that.

And fuck, if he isn’t a goner.

You place your hand over his and his heart leaps into his throat, “Thank you.”

“Y-Yeah.” He’s so lost in your eyes that it comes out a whisper. With a little flush of confidence, he turns his hand palm up in yours to squeeze your fingers before hastily pulling away to avoid you noticing how clammy his hands are.

After that night, he finds himself seeking you out a lot more. Knocking his knee against yours under the table, tapping you to get your attention rather than just calling your name. 

It isn’t until you’re both out with the team that he realizes he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he’d been. He’s had a few drinks and is a little more than tipsy, which is never a good thing with how much alcohol loosens his lips. Especially when you’re sitting right next to him, definitely more sober than he is. 

“Pretty boy, when did you get so comfortable with people touching you?” Derek asks, earning a rather confused look from the man in question. Before he gets a chance to respond, you’re asking exactly what he’d been thinking.

“What do you mean?” By the way he’s looking between the two of you, Spencer assumes Derek is referring to the way you’re pressed against his side – or rather, how he’s pressed against yours, considering he’s the one who leaned practically his whole body weight into your side the moment you sat down.

“You don’t know?” Emily asks, and you shake your head, “He doesn’t like touching anyone.” A knowing smirk creeps up on her face as she locks eyes with him, “Or at least he normally doesn’t.”

“Oh.” Is all you say in response. He doesn’t like the sadness in your tone, and he especially dislikes the way you shift away from him to give him space. There’s a rather startling urge to wrap his arm around you and pull you back to him, but he shuts that down immediately, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Do you remember that time he dodged a handshake by telling the guy it would be safer for them to kiss?” Penelope giggles, clearly drunk at this point.

“You weren’t even there.” Spencer counters, laughing a little to diffuse the tension. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and notices that your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You’re a little too quiet the rest of the night. At one point, you leave for the bathroom and when you return, you slide your purse in between the two of you to keep a safe distance. 

He hates it.

He hates it even more when you stop him outside the bar with an apologetic look on your face as you’re all leaving.

“Hey, Spence?”

He swallows the butterflies in his throat that surface at the nickname, “Yeah?”

“I, uh,” You clear your throat awkwardly, “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you uncomfortable with all the, um… touching.”

He opens his mouth to tell you he really, really doesn’t mind it, but you accidentally cut him off, “I didn’t even consider that you might not be comfortable with it, and that was really inconsiderate of me. Now that I know, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. I’ll be sure to uh, keep my hands to myself.” You titter, glancing at your shoes sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay–.” He’s cut off again, this time by Emily, who’s yours and Garcia’s designated driver for the evening. “L/n! You coming?” She calls with a smile.

“Yeah!” You call back, before turning back to him. He watches you almost lean in for a hug, and a pang of disappointment stabs at his chest when you stop yourself in favour of nodding at him with a smile, “I’ll see you next week, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Is all he has time to say before you’re climbing into the backseat of Emily’s car.

He is seriously dreading going into work on Monday.

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

My House Of Stone, Your Ivy Grows

WC: 1.5K

A/N: I don’t even know if this makes sense, I don’t know what this is

Summary: Connor’s never been good at fighting for what he wants, in this case who he wants ANGST?

Connor Bedard and Y/N had been inseparable since they were kids. Their families lived next door to each other, and it seemed as if fate had intertwined their lives. From the moment they learned to walk, they shared laughter and tears, holidays and birthdays, always side by side. They were the definition of best friends, the kind of bond that everyone around them marveled at, especially their mothers, who often joked about them getting married someday.

As they grew older, their friendship blossomed into something more complicated. Y/N had always admired Connor's dedication to hockey; he was a natural talent, the star of his team. But it was more than just his skills on the ice that captivated her. It was the way he made her feel—alive, cherished, understood. Connor was everything to her, and deep down, she believed she was everything to him too.

But life took a turn when Miles entered the picture. He was charming, just as athletic, and somehow everything Connor wasn't. When Y/N started dating him, it felt like someone had ripped a part of Connor's heart away. The first few weeks were unbearable; Connor pretended to be happy for her, but inside, he was hollow. Every shared moment between Y/N and Miles felt like a dagger to his heart.

Y/N felt it too, that strange distance growing between her and Connor. It was as if she were living in two worlds—the one where she was with Miles and the one where she could be herself with Connor. The worst part was how she couldn’t ignore the incandescent glow that still flickered between them. Every time Connor touched her, whether to playfully shove her or to comfort her, it sent a jolt through her, igniting feelings she had long buried.

Spring break arrived, and Y/N felt a heaviness in her heart. Miles had left for vacation, and for the first time in months, she had the chance to reconnect with Connor. She found herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. They spent days together, just like old times, but now there was an undercurrent of tension, a whisper of something unspoken lingering in the air.

Their playful banter was laced with a new depth. Connor's blue eyes, once filled with friendship, now seemed to pierce through her soul, making her acutely aware of her own heart's desires. Every laugh, every shared secret felt like a stolen moment in a world where time was running out. All her pains fit right in the palm of his hand, only this time its been promised to another.

One afternoon, they were sitting on the porch, the sun setting in hues of orange and pink. Y/N felt the urge to speak, to lay her heart bare. “Connor,” she started, her voice barely a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he replied, looking at her with that familiar warmth.

“If I were to break up with Miles… would you want me?”

Connor's heart raced, but he felt a cold pit in his stomach. The question hung between them, heavy with implications. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to tell her that yes, he had loved her since they were kids. But he hesitated, aware of the hurt it would cause.

“Y/N, I—” he stammered, but the words died on his lips.

“Just tell me what you feel. If you want me, say it. I need to know Connor because cannot go on like this. Knowing if i’m choosing the wrong guy.” she urged, desperation creeping into her tone.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you to break up with him,” Connor replied, his voice strained. The truth was he was scared—scared of losing her completely, scared of the judgment, scared of everything. Y/N deserved happiness, even if it wasn’t with him.

Her face fell, and the silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. “I- I just thought you wanted me, you’ve shown all these signs Connor I- I mean you’re constantly fuming when I mention Miles. You’ve been so different since we started dating. I guess I was just hoping you were feeling what I wanted you to feel.” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

“No- yes- I do want you, so so much. I love you. I- Since we were six Y/N, even younger maybe but…” He stuttered off, frustration boiling within him. “You’re with him though. You deserve him. I can’t be get in the way of that.”

Y/N took a step back, the weight of his words crashing down on her. “So, you’d rather just watch me with him? It wouldn’t be your fault Connor, and on top of that you dont get to choose what’s best for me! What’s best for me is you, what’s best for me is the one I’ve seen grow into the man of my dreams. I just don’t get what you’re saying… Is this some tactic to spare my feelings because you don’t reciprocate them?” she asked, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Connor couldn't answer. Instead, he stood there, feeling powerless, watching as she turned away. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, but the moment slipped away, leaving behind a chasm that felt impossible to bridge. He had chose to sit and watch what would become of them.

When Miles returned from vacation, Y/N felt a shift in her heart. She tried to push away the feelings she had for Connor, convincing herself that what she had with Miles was real. They laughed, they went on dates, and slowly, the laughter echoed, filling the void that Connor had left. But deep inside, she felt like she was pretending. Connor was like Ivy growing up Y/N house of stone, he was roots being placed into her dreamland. This all had been the fight of her life and Connor started and ended it for her.

Connor watched all this unfold from a distance as Y/N fell deeper into her relationship with Miles. Every smile she gave him, every moment of joy he witnessed felt like a nail in his heart. He’d made a choice to “protect” her, he felt like if he had let himself become selfish and finally have her he wouldn’t be able to keep up with what she could be having with Miles. The world and everything it Y/N deserved and the inevitable fear he couldn’t give her that and more took a toll on him. But the more time passed, the more it felt like a mistake. He missed her; he missed their conversations, their inside jokes, and the way she would lean on him for support.

Days turned into weeks, and Connor’s heartache only deepened. He watched as Y/N and Miles became more entwined, their shared laughter becoming a bittersweet symphony in his ears. Connor's jealousy festered, but he buried it beneath layers of denial, pushing through hockey practices and late-night games.

He immensely poured himself into his training, using the ice as an escape from the turmoil in his heart. Each slap of the puck, each drill felt like a temporary distraction from the emotional storm brewing inside him. But the more he focused on hockey, the more he realized that nothing could fill the void that Y/N had left.

Every goal he scored was celebrated, but it felt hollow. His teammates cheered, their voices echoing around him, but all he could think about was Y/N’s laughter—how it used to light up his world. She was becoming a distant memory, fading into the background of his life while he stood frozen, trapped in a moment that was slipping away from him.

Meanwhile, Y/N was living a life that seemed perfect on the surface. With Miles,she took trips, attended parties, and found herself surrounded by friends, he was in the room but all she wished to see were Connor’s eyes . In the quiet moments, when the noise of the world faded away, she felt a gnawing emptiness. Connor’s absence was a constant reminder that something essential was missing. The love she had for him was buried beneath layers of confusion and guilt, and she often found herself thinking of him, wondering if he ever thought about her.

One evening, she found herself at a party with Miles. Music pulsed through the air, and laughter surrounded her, but all she could see was Connor’s face, the way he would smirk when they shared a joke. It was overwhelming, and she excused herself from the crowd, stepping outside for a breath of fresh air.

Under the stars, she closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over her. Memories of their childhood flooded her mind—sneaking out to stargaze, sharing secrets in the dark, dreaming of futures that seemed limitless. But with those memories came the painful realization that she had chosen to walk away from that bond. As tears streamed down her cheeks, she felt like she was betraying not only Connor but herself.

Meanwhile, Connor stood on the ice, practicing alone long after everyone else had left. The rink was empty, just him and the echo of his skates gliding against the surface. Every stroke felt like a release of pent-up emotions, but it was never enough to drown out the heartache. He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N and Miles together—every laugh, every touch—they were constant reminders of the choice he’d made.

The next day, Y/N decided she couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. She reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over Connor’s name. She hesitated, recalling the last time they’d spoken, the look in his eyes when he’d tried to protect her by holding back his feelings. But this time, she wanted to know the truth.

“Connor,” she typed, her heart racing. “Can we talk?”

Connor’s heart leaped at the notification. He hadn’t seen her name in so long; it felt like a lifeline. But then doubt crept in. What if she was just going to tell him that things with Miles were great? That she was happy? But he couldn’t ignore the glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

They agreed to meet at their favorite spot—the park where they used to spend countless afternoons. As Y/N approached, Connor felt a whirlwind of emotions crash over him. She looked beautiful, but there was a sadness in her eyes that mirrored his own.

“Hey,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“Hey,” he replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Y/N took a deep breath. “Explain it to me, I’m racking my mind constantly Connor as to why you claim to have loved me for years but don’t want to be with me. Look at how confusing this is from my perspective Connor please I’m begging you.”

Connor’s heart raced. “ I can’t-”

“Connor, please let me finish,” she interrupted, her eyes pleading with him to listen. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that what I have with Miles is enough, but every time I laugh with him, I hear your voice. Every time I’m with him, I feel like I’m hiding a part of myself.”

His chest tightened as he realized she was struggling, just as he had been. “Y/N… I never wanted to put you in this position. I thought I was doing the right thing by stepping back, but it’s killing me. You deserve everything and only what I can say is the best life and I got scared that I couldn’t give you what you deserve. And as much as I wish it was me but Miles is a good guy, great future, loving family. Everything you should have. I didn’t want you to loose all that because you felt guilty for me feeling like this towards you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” she asked, hurt evident in her tone.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of losing you completely. I thought if I stayed quiet, you’d eventually learn you’d be happier with him.”

“Happy? Connor, I’ve been a mess. I tried to move on, but you’re always there. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Connor’s heart soared, but it was also heavy with fear. “What does that mean for us?”

Y/N stepped closer, her eyes searching his. “I don’t know. But I know I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she continued, “I thought I could make things work with Miles, but every time I’m with him, I’m reminded that you’re the one who truly understands me.”

He reached for her, wanting to pull her close, but hesitated. “But what about Miles? He cares about you.”

“I know, and I feel terrible for what this will do to him. But I can’t keep living a lie. It’s you I want, Connor. You’re my best friend, my heart.”

At that moment, everything that had held him back melted away. “I’ve always loved you,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and it’s tearing me apart to see you with someone else.”

The tears spilled over, and Y/N closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around him. “Then let’s figure this out together.”

In that embrace, the weight of their past lifted, replaced by the flickering hope of what could be. But both of them knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges. They would have to confront their feelings, navigate the consequences of their choices, and ultimately, find a way back to the love they had always shared.

Yet as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they felt a flicker of light in the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, they could rebuild what had been lost and create something even stronger. But the lingering shadows of doubt remained, reminding them that the road to healing was never straightforward.

[princess-yuna]

My Dearest: Part 2

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,744

Summary: It is calling hours in the Bennett estate, and an unexpected caller sparks something interesting.

Content: No use of y/n, reader’s last name is Bennett for fic purposes but feel free to imagine another surname that’s suitable for you, pining, friends turned lovers and a lot of fluff. Reader has a younger sister and an older brother.

A/N: Back at it again with another part! Thank you for showing love on the first part! Please enjoy! Previous | Next

Your head was spinning since Lady Danbury's ball. The way that Colin looked at you made something stir within you. You were acutely aware of how close you were standing, completely drawn to each other in a way you never were before. It was startling but you welcomed it. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and if you lingered a moment more you would've caught on fire. There was a moment of thought to lean more into it but your mother's call saved you both. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours and that thought was fleeting once the morning came.

You have spent all morning preparing the drawing room for the arrival of callers for your sister. The way she spoke about certain suitors made you hopeful that she would have an engagement by the end of the season, and you hoped that what happened to you wouldn't happen to her. These men were kind as they greeted you before they sat with your sister for conversation. You had no intention of prying as you read, but you couldn't help yourself from glancing up when you heard your sister's giggle.

Your attention was soon brought to the door as your handmaiden called out to you.

"There is a caller here, Miss Bennett," she stated, her gaze going to the hall briefly before her attention was on you again, "Not for your sister but for you."

The look on your face twisted to confusion as you set your book on your lap and sat up slightly more to fix your posture. You glanced at your mother where she sat across from you as she enjoyed her afternoon tea. Even when she was shocked, she still smiled as she perked up at the potential suitor even when you told her that this was not your season.

"Bring him in then," your mother encouraged.

As the words left her lips, your gaze was met with Colin Bridgerton. For a moment, time stood still and you felt your heart race. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he greeted your mother. You placed your book on the table before you stood to your feet as he approached you. Your mother then found a new spot in the room to allow you privacy but kept you and your sister in her sight.

"You truly can not be calling on me, Colin," you spoke finally in a near whisper, your tone filled with disbelief.

Colin's eyebrow rose in curiosity, but an amused expression crossed his features nonetheless. "I can't see a friend, Miss Bennett?" He sat on the chaise beside where you had been sitting.

"Of course you can," you responded as you slowly sat beside him. This was Colin Bridgerton, one of your dear friends, and you could not stop thinking of him. Even as he called you his friend, you heard that underlying tone. His written words plagued you and his spoken words made your head spin. You had to look away from him briefly to look at your sister who was entirely engrossed in conversation with one of her callers. She seemed oblivious that Colin had arrived moments earlier.

You looked back at him with a calmness that you had to will yourself to muster after taking a steady breath. "And what do I owe the pleasure?" You placed a smile on your face, and your body shifted to show you had interest.

"I wanted to see you. It has been too long since we have last seen each other, especially that you were not here last season," he replied.

That was why the letters were important. It was the only way you communicated with him of your whereabouts. After the failure of not receiving a proposal from Lord Brixton, you have expressed that maybe a season away would be beneficial since your sister was not ready to debut that previous year either. It had spread gossip among the ton that the season was skipped, but it certainly worked to bring attention to your sister. The queen did not announce her diamond for the season, but your sister had sparked enough interest without needing the title. You were thankful that your shame did not extend to her.

You hadn't noticed the gift that was in his hand, and it surprised you as he presented it to you. "I have been wanting to give this to you the next time I saw you," he stated, almost bashfully as you took it from him, "I saw it in Italy and I thought it would suit you."

Your fingers gently grazed the small rectangle box and then you opened it to reveal a dainty necklace that had a small pendant of your favorite jewel. "Oh, Colin, this is beautiful," you spoke gently.

You could feel his gaze on you and your gaze met his. There it was. The quickness of your heartbeat puts you into a frenzy. "May I?" He asked, motioning to the necklace. You simply nodded before you shifted so your back was towards him. Some relief came when the eye contact was broken.

Time slowed down as he placed the necklace around your neck. His fingers gently touched the back of your neck as he clasped the jewelry securely. A soft breath left your lips as you glanced down at the pendant to admire it but then your head turned quickly as his touch lingered on the back of your neck. Your gaze met his again and silence fell for a moment before you spoke up when you knew your gazes lingered too long.

"Colin, I-"

"Miss Bennett?"

A familiar voice knocked you to your senses, and you turned your body forward as your attention was now to the man at the door. Your mouth fell agape in surprise while you quickly rose to your feet. Colin had followed suit, but he was slower than you were.

"Lord Brixton?" Your mother's voice chimed, and she had rushed to her feet to greet the gentleman.

It was like seeing a ghost and you were glued to the floor until you felt your mother's hand on your arm to guide you. Colin was left gawking at the scene of you giving the lord a graceful curtsy as your mother gushed about the man who had mysteriously returned to the ton.

Lord Brixton was a distinguished respectable man. Even when he had left after your first season, he was not the one who was questioned but it was you. There were no suitors for you after the embarrassment of that season. However, you did not find it much of an embarrassment when you had not been in a rush to marry. He was someone who listened, and he valued you like none of the others did, which was why you would have said yes. Though you weren't sure why he would suddenly show up to call upon you and the curiosity was tugging at you.

"Miss Bennett, you look as beautiful as ever," he complimented as you stood before him. His gaze lingered over you as if you were a painting to admire, a look that you have known well in the time he had been courting you. "I do apologize for my abrupt disappearance, but there was an emergency that I need to tend to at my estate," he then said. His gaze shifted to Colin who was now standing behind you. "Ah, Mister Bridgerton, I almost did not see you there. I wish to speak to Miss Bennett, if you don't mind?"

You wanted to tell Lord Brixton to come back another time because there were things you still needed to discuss with Colin. He told you there was more that he needed to say to you when you met at Lady Danbury's ball but it was proven difficult to get a word in without being interrupted. Yet before you could say anything in protest, Colin was the one to speak up.

"I do not mind at all, I was just on my way out," he stated. He stood before you and your mother to give a respectful nod. As he glanced at you, his gaze lingered for a moment before he turned to the Lord to give his farewell before he stepped out of the drawing room.

You knew that he did mind, but he was unable to stop the conversation that you would have with the man who inserted himself back in your life. He was no one compared to Lord Brixton, and his insecurities were not truly known by you but you knew of his hesitance whenever he came around or when you spoke about him. You never brought it up and you were not sure if you should. For now, your focus had to be on the lord in front of you and you gave him the warmest smile before you were trapped in his explanation as to why he left you in further detail.

An explanation that you did not care to listen to as you thought about Colin.

The day came to an end and Lord Brixton had left your home with intentions of courting you again. You retired to your bedroom for the evening as you sat at your vanity as you removed your jewelry. When it came to the necklace, you hesitated a moment before you reached to unclasp it and returned it to the box it came in. You then noticed a paper that was folded neatly inside that you did not see before, and you took it out to unfold it to reveal the familiar handwriting of Colin Bridgerton.

My Dearest,

No jewel can be compared to your beauty, yet here I am gifting you the prettiest jewel that I found in the market while I was in Italy. I wish I could be more eloquent with my words when I am with you but I find myself becoming tongue tied whenever we are near each other. Perhaps I must take a leap. Would you care to join me for a promenade tomorrow?

Sincerely Yours, Colin Bridgerton

You clutched the letter to your chest, a soft smile graced your lips as his words spread warmth through you. By coincidence, you had plans to promenade with you sister and mother tomorrow. Maybe then you would finally have that moment to speak to your dear friend without interruption.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 37: Pieces

Mitchum sends you to where he wants you as Joel questions Cody. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-36 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and several steps beyond that. Fairly graphic torture (not of reader.) Mention of past sexual assault, not described. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 6k

A/N: As with the last chapter, I want to state, real quick, that Bambi is NOT going to be sexually assaulted again. This is a highly triggering subject and, given the situation she's in, I understand if folks are bracing for it. That's not going to happen. The threat of it is there but it's not going to happen.

We are into the final arc of Yearling and we are going to see some TLOU 2 OVERLAP again. There isn't any this chapter but there will be in this arc and here's how: a character from that game will be mentioned as will the spoiler-y incident from a few chapters ago. What happens plot wise in this arc is completely separate from the game and entirely original content BUT there is that character overlap and more specific mentions of the incident and the motives behind it. This character returns THIS CHAPTER. If you're trying to go in blind to season 2, it might be wise to step back. Feel free to send me a DM, I'm happy to answer any and all questions!

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

They were talking about you like you weren’t there. 

You’d been used to that once but it had been a long time since you’d been just a thing, separate from that life about as long as you’d suffered it. You had forgotten just how much you hated this part of being a prisoner. You’d internalized so many of the more acute horrors that the smaller things had slipped away, but the change from human being to livestock was sharp. You didn’t have much in you to fight against anything - still barely able to stand - but it seemed what little there was faded quickly just listening to the men talk about you as though you were some unruly animal. 

“Take her back to the main camp,” Mitchum said, taking your arm and turning you around so he could look you over. “She’s good on a horse, don’t let her near the reins. Don’t be stupid enough to think this one won’t take off just because she’s down some fingers, she’s a feral thing. That fucking moron… Get her there and don’t fuck her, understand? She’s mine and I gotta make sure she’s broken in right. Been wild too long, gonna have to start from scratch.” 

He took your chin in his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his own. 

“Gonna bring you back where you belong,” he said. “I tamed you once, I can do it again.” 

You didn’t say anything, all your energy going in to keeping yourself standing. You tried to think about something, anything, beyond how close Mitchum was to you again, every alarm bell your body had ringing. Where his fingers were on you burned and your heart raced, the blood loss and fear making your head spin.

The only thing that could be worse than being this close to him again was Savvy and Ellie being this close to him. The thought that you’d saved them from this was a small comfort. You hoped they made it back. You had to believe they made it. You weren’t sure you’d have the strength to keep going otherwise. They made it, they made it back to Jackson, they were safe there. 

But the men were talking about Jackson, too. Like it was something they could take. What’s worse, they sounded confident that they could do it. It was something that had seemed impossible when you were within the walls, everything so strong and permanent. How could the will of men destroy something like that? But now that you were here, back in the grip of what terrified you, it didn’t seem so impossible anymore. Jackson was just people, too. Good people, strong people who had decided to survive and work and love alongside each other but people all the same. It doesn’t take some act of God to destroy a person, just one other, determined person can do the job. 

You couldn’t handle considering that, not when the only things in the world that mattered were dependent on Jackson to be safe. You had to believe that Jackson could withstand whatever came its way, that Ellie and Savvy had made it back, that they would be safe within its walls and would never have to face men like Mitchum and Cody again. They made it, they made it back to Jackson and they were safe. The whole city was.

You thought it over and over again in your head, a mantra of sorts, as they brought you to a horse and forced you on its back. You were too out of it to grab the reins immediately, a man mounting up in front of you before you could think twice about taking control of the animal. 

“Better not try anything back there if you know what’s good for you,” the man snapped before making the horse move. You just tried to stay upright and tried to think of ways to escape once you were strong enough to run. You had to resist the urge to try now, every nerve in your body on fire and driving you to run or fight. But you couldn’t. You’d never survive a fight right now and you’d only be able to walk a mile - maybe two - before you’d collapse and then they’d have you again. You needed to save your strength or you’d never get out. 

You tried to remind yourself that you’d done all this before. You’d survived what they did to you and made it out. You’d lived and built a life and found your daughter and protected what mattered. You’d done it once, you could do it again. You just had to survive. 

You focused on the people that you wanted to survive for - Savvy and Ellie and Joel and Maria and Tommy and William and Julie and and and - and tried to settle into the sway of the horse as it walked.

Time was strange like this, pulling and warping. It seemed like it was dark longer than it should have been when the sun started to rise and then, when the men stopped for a break, the sun seemed higher than it should have been. You drank water when it was offered. You watched for a chance to steal a horse - the only way you thought you’d be able to make it far in that moment - but didn’t get one. 

The light hadn’t yet taken on the soft, hazy quality of evening when you reached where you were headed. It was an unfamiliar place, a small subdivision - maybe two dozen houses total - with mountains at its back. There was a guarded perimeter, men in cowboy hats who gave the men you were with a nod as they rode in. 

They brought you to the center of the neighborhood, to a house that was small but looked to be in good repair, two men stationed outside. 

“Down,” the man you were riding with ordered. You obeyed, sliding off the horse and stumbling, head spinning. He dismounted more smoothly before grabbing you by the collar of your shirt - Joel’s shirt - and hauled you for the door, one of the guards meeting him there. He took a padlock off the front door before opening it and shoving you inside, past a small living room with a sunken sofa and a kitchen with counters covered in a thick layer of dust. He forced you down a hall to a bedroom. You were almost positive it had been a little girl’s room once but it had been stripped of all forms of childish comfort. There were two twin sized mattresses on the floor, tucked into corners on opposite pink walls. There had been carpet once, you were sure, but it had been pulled up, just the plywood below remaining. There was a bucket at the foot of each bed and some drywall had been pulled away near each bed, exposing the frame of the walls, chains wrapped around a stud near either bed. 

“On the bed,” the man ordered, shoving you toward it and making you stumble. You more fell onto the mattress than sat on it but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He approached you and you went to kick him, not about to let him just take what he wanted without a fight, but he caught your boot, giving you a sharp shake when he did. “Just making sure you don’t run. Sit still or this will hurt a lot more than it needs to.” 

He pulled your boot off before you had a chance to respond and tossed it near the door before picking up the chain. It was thick and heavy, no cuff on the end. He wrapped it around your ankle, tight enough that it cut into your flesh a little, and put a padlock through the loops to hold it in place. He gave it a testing pull and it didn’t budge. He nodded. 

“Recommend you rest while you can,” he said, dropping your leg. “Mitchum’s back in a day or two, don’t imagine you’ll have much while he’s here.” 

He turned to leave and you looked to the other mattress. There was a smear of blood near the chain that was still bright red, like it hadn’t dried yet. There was someone else who had been here, someone recently. The door closed and locked and you stretched out on the bed, trying to force your body and mind to still enough that you could rest. 

It didn’t work very well. You faded in and out of consciousness for a while - you weren’t entirely sure how long but you were fairly certain night had fallen. The window in the room was covered with yellowed newspaper but you were pretty sure you’d seen light coming through it earlier in the day. It was dark now. 

It took you a moment to realize what had pulled you back to consciousness. There was a scuffle outside your door, the sound of someone being wrestled inside. You shot up, scrambling to find something you might be able to use as a weapon but came up empty, the room stripped of anything that could be a tool and your mind still working slowly. You were still down a lot of blood. 

The door opened and you braced yourself to claw and bite but the man there paid you no mind. Instead, he shoved a tall, broad young woman in, one with a blonde fishtail braid that hung down her back. Something inside you twinged at the sight of her, a distant alarm bell ringing. She was familiar, you couldn’t see her face but you knew her. You could feel it.

The man forced her onto the opposite mattress and all but threw the chain around her ankle before locking it into place. 

“If you’re fuckin’ smart, you’ll behave yourself,” the man backed away from her, panting for breath with a cut on his cheek. “If you weren’t one of Mitchum’s favorite toys, I’d kill you myself.” 

“Fuck you,” she spat, lifting her head from the mattress, her teeth bared in a snarl. Your breath caught, the fingers from your intact hand groping for the chain attached to your ankle, your best hope for a weapon. 

You did know this woman - almost more of a girl in spite of her size and strength, she couldn’t be much older than Ellie and definitely young enough to be your daughter. You didn’t know her name or where she was from or why she had tried to murder your husband but you knew her, knew how she looked when she was filled with rage and desperate to kill a man. Knew how she looked as she beat Joel until he was bloody and half dead. Your grip on the chain tightened. 

The man left and you weren’t sure if the two of them had said anything else, the high pitched whine that had taken over your ears only just beginning to fade. 

She seemed to notice you then, straining to sit up, her eyes wide at first but narrowing when she reached your face. 

She recognized you, too. 

“You,” she was still panting for breath, leaning against the wall at her back, sneering at you. Watching you. “I should have known they’d find some other fucking way to torture me.” 

You watched her back, ready to defend yourself in case she made a move. 

“I could have said the same thing about you.” 

***

Joel wasn’t aware of much. 

There were gunshots but they were of little consequence. The screams didn’t register, either. Neither did the sweat on his neck or the pain in his back or the pull in his leg that had been there ever since he was shot by the girl who wanted him dead. 

He could feel your blood on his hands, though, and the feel of your fingers in his pocket and hear the thud of his heart and he could see. He could see Cody on his horse but he could see how you’d been afraid of him, too. That day in the stable when Joel held you and you were so scared you could barely stay standing. He could see how it would have happened, how this man would have cut away pieces of you. How scared you would have been, how you would have fought anyway, how you would have screamed. 

All Joel really knew in that moment was that he needed to hurt this man. He needed to take every ounce of pain from his body until there was nothing else left inside of him and he needed him to know, as he died, that he was dying for you. 

Cody tried to dodge Joel as he threw himself at him, the horse stutter stepping away as Cody tried to pull it back while also grabbing his gun. But he wasn’t fast enough, Joel’s hands closing around the edges of the man’s jacket as he yanked him to the ground, Cody’s gun flying into the trees. 

But Cody was not a small man and his thrashing weight threw Joel off balance, the two of them sprawling to the forest floor. Cody was younger and more agile and got to his feet first, pulling his knife free from his belt, lunging for Joel. But Joel was ready for him, kicking him in the gut so hard that it knocked the wind out of him and sent him stumbling back. He got to his feet, too, Cody leaning against a tree, knife out as he caught his breath. 

“You’re not gonna get her back,” he panted, a sneer on his face as he watched Joel. “She’s with him now and he’s not gonna let her go so easy this time. And when he’s done with her, don’t think you’ll even want her back.” 

There was commotion at Joel’s back but it barely registered. 

“I should have fucking killed you when I had the chance,” Joel said, watching him closely. “She was too good to you. She’s always been better than anyone left fuckin’ deserved, least of all you.” 

“And she should’ve known what I gave her when I let her go,” he said, standing up a little straighter now, breath caught. “Instead of being an ungrateful cunt.” 

Joel roared and threw himself at Cody, the other man striking out at him with his knife. He nicked Joel’s shoulder with the blade but he barely noticed it, the blow not really hurting so much as being filed away as information, things he would need to contend with at some point when Cody’s blood was cold on the ground. 

Joel threw a punch, catching Cody on the jaw and he stumbled for a moment before lunging at Joel, striking out with the knife again but falling short and following up with a clumsy fist after. Joel caught his hand and twisted it, the other man giving a sharp yelp. Joel liked the sound, the evidence of his pain soothing the gnawing desperation inside him. 

But his satisfaction was short lived, the knife slamming into Joel’s shoulder making him seize up for a moment. He was aware that it should hurt, that there was metal inside him now that didn’t belong, but all it did was bring everything into sharper focus. This knife was probably the one that had drawn your blood, too. It seemed right that he should suffer it with you after he’d failed at doing what he’d vowed to do. 

The split second of the shock of the stab passed quickly and Joel drove Cody back into the tree, slamming his back into the trunk of it and knocking the air out of him, his head hitting the bark with a sickening thud. Joel didn’t relent. Instead, he punched him across the face, one arm holding the man in place as he hit him again and again. 

This satisfaction held longer. Cody’s fingers scramble and clawed at Joel, trying to find purchase somewhere they could pull him away from his singular mission but that was impossible. Joel’s physical body didn’t matter to him anymore, not without you, and every small hurt was swallowed by the drive to destroy. 

“Joel!” Tommy’s arm looped around Joel’s neck, pulling him back from Cody who slipped down the tree trunk, his hands limp on the blood coated leaves, his chest still rising and falling, eyes blinking as he stared into space. Joel strained to pull away from Tommy’s grip but his brother held him firm as he panted for breath. “Joel, you can’t kill him yet, we need information. We kept one of the others alive but we need information or we’ll never find her. He’s alive, we need him to stay a live a little longer.” 

Joel slumped forward in Tommy’s grip and his hold on him loosened, starting to feel his body again. His knuckles hurt and were slick with blood. Joel wasn’t sure how much was Cody’s and how much was his own. There was a sharp, stabbing pain in his shoulder and he reached back with his other arm, flinching as he did, before taking hold of the knife and pulling the blade free. He heard Tommy wince as he did and Joel brought the weapon around in front of him, holding it up for a moment. His blood was slick over half the blade, the edge serrated. 

“You cut off my wife’s fingers with this?” Joel panted, squatting down to be on Cody’s level, holding the knife up. His own voice sounded odd to him, so normal when everything was so wrong. 

“Wait, what?” Ellie stalked over to him and Joel glanced up at her. There was a cut on her cheek and her eyes were wide. Joel turned back to Cody and reached into his pocket, gently pulling your fingers free before setting them on Cody’s stomach. “Motherfucker!” 

Joel barely registered the sound of Tommy wrestling Ellie away, too focused on the man in front of him to worry about anything else. 

“Did you cut off my wife’s fingers with this?” Joel said again, voice flat. 

Cody struggled to swallow and Joel took hold of his jaw, yanking his head around so he was looking right at him. 

“Answer the question.” 

Cody blinked a few times before taking a shaky breath. 

“Yes.” 

There was a rattle in his voice and blood on his teeth. 

“Good.” 

Joel took the knife and thrust it into his thigh, just over his knee. Cody screamed and squirmed uselessly under him and Joel waited, keeping constant pressure down on the blade, giving him no relief. 

As he quieted - gasping for breath, eyes wide and bloodshot - Joel pulled the knife from his leg and wiped the blood on his jeans. 

“Gonna hurt you like you hurt her,” he said, picking up Cody’s hand from the ground. He started trying to pull it away, heavy breaths shifting to hyperventilation, but Joel held firm, forcing the hand down to the man’s thigh. “What, you afraid of me usin’ your knife the way you do? That it? Can’t be that bad, can it?” 

“No,” he panted. “No, please, I’ll give you whatever you want, I’ll…” 

Joel lined the blade up with the smallest knuckle on Cody’s pinky and cut through it in one devastating push, the man screaming and writhing and trying to pull his hand into his chest to comfort himself but Joel didn’t let him. 

“You’ll give me what I want?” Joel asked, putting the knife at the next joint down. “But what if what I want is my wife? What if what I want is your pain, hm? You give me that?” 

He cut again, the blade meeting more resistance this time. Joel pushed through it, the knife cutting through the denim of his jeans on the other side of his hand as he screamed again. Cody closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree and Joel resisted the urge to beat his face in. He had to leave him alive for a little while longer. 

And besides, he couldn’t take more pain from him if he was dead. 

“No, you don’t get to fuckin’ pass out on me,” Joel stabbed the knife through his hand, pinning it to his thigh before grabbing his hair by the fistful, bringing his head forward so it was only inches from Joel’s own. He could smell the blood on his skin, clearly see the trails of salt on his cheeks. “You get to be awake for this. Doubt you ever let her pass out, did you? Not about to do you any favors. Now, you focus on me, understand?” 

Cody managed a nod. Joel dragged the blade through is palm, between the webbing of his fingers, cutting a path through the delicate bones of his hand and the thick muscle of his thigh as Cody begged and screamed. The wound at Joel’s shoulder ached. He couldn’t bring himself to care about either thing. 

He held Cody’s hand in place again and gave him a second to quiet and catch his breath before lining the knife up at the base of his pinky. 

“Please,” he panted, eyes so desperate as they met Joel’s. “Please, I can’t…” 

“Can’t what?” Joel asked, brows raised. “Can’t survive what you did to her?” 

Joel cut, separating the bloody remains of the finger from Cody’s hand and casting it aside. Cody’s screams were growing hoarse and Joel ground his teeth. He still needed answers from him and he needed to be able to talk for that. 

He pulled the knife away, holding it firmly and watching as the other man caught his breath. 

“I can make this easier,” Joel said after a moment. “You tell me where she is? I kill you. Quick. Maybe not painless but not as bad as this. You’re not leavin’ here alive. Should have killed you in Jackson months ago. Hell, should have fucking found you years ago and killed you then but I didn’t. Not about to let you go again. But it’s up to you if how I kill you is for you or for me, if it’s fast or if it’s slow.”

“I…” the wet rattle of Cody’s breath was sharper now. “I can’t… I can’t trust you to do it quick…” 

“Yes you can,” Joel said. “You tell me where my wife is? I’m gonna go get her. Not gonna want to waste more time here with you. It’ll be quick if you just tell me.” 

Cody’s eyes searched Joel’s for a moment, like he would find some kind of answer in them. Joel didn’t need to see his reflection to know that the only thing Cody would find in his gaze was the hollow, desperate pain of your loss. There wasn’t anything else left in him to see. 

“I traded her,” he said. “To Mitchum. Met… met him about 10 miles north east of here but he won’t still be there. I don’t think he’d keep her with him - he never did before, always… always had her at his base…” 

“And where’s that,” Joel asked when he trailed off. Cody’s neck went limp and Joel grabbed his chin again, giving him a sharp shake and forcing his eyes to spring open. “Stay with me, focus right here. Where is Mitchum’s base? Where would he take her?” 

“Little spot,” he panted. “Just… a bunch of houses, don’t know if it’s got a name…” 

“Tommy!” Joel called without even glancing back at him. “Need a map.” 

It took a few seconds before Tommy appeared, handing Joel a wrinkled and worn map. 

“Point to where it is on this map,” Joel said, releasing his bloody, four fingered hand. “Your buddy over there know where it is?” Cody nodded, shaky, once. “Good. You point where it is. He’d better point to the same goddamn spot.”

He handed the map back to Tommy and kept Cody in his sights, watching as his skin grew pale and his head listless and limp. There was a scuffle and scream behind him, loud enough that Cody shocked back to full consciousness with it. 

“Sounds like your friend don’t know what’s good for him,” Joel said, taking Cody’s bloodied hand and forcing it to his thigh again. “Or what’s good for you.” 

“No,” he shook his head, his eyes so wide. “No, please!” 

“Tell him to cooperate,” Joel said. 

“Do what he says!” Cody screamed. “Just do it, please!” 

Joel pressed the knife to the base of his ring finger and cut. He was almost surprised at how easy it was to force the blade through the bone and sinew. He could barely feel the strain of it as Cody screamed below him. The knife sank a bit into his leg as it cut through the last of the skin and Joel picked the finger up, holding it in front of Cody’s crying eyes. 

“She scream like you?” Joel asked, turning the piece of his captive slowly before them both, the wet of his blood catching the light like the fractures in the glass of his watch. “You like hearin’ it like I like hearin’ you?” 

“Please,” Cody managed, voice ragged and hoarse.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, lowering the severed finger but keeping it firmly in his grip. “You already took her, already were handing her over to that… animal. Why’d you need to hurt her, too.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Joel thrust the knife into his upper thigh, inches shy of the man’s crotch and he gasped, mouth open in a silent scream. He was wearing out, inching closer and closer to death. 

“Don’t give a shit about your sorry,” Joel said. “Why. Tell me.” 

He gave Cody a second to start to recover from the pain before twisting the knife, making him seize again. 

“Tell me.” 

“She tried to run!” He sobbed, collapsing back down again. “She… she tried to run, killed two of my men. And she never… never appreciated what I did for her then…” 

Joel just nodded slowly. You’d been able to try to run, at least before Cody took your fingers. You weren’t so scared that you couldn’t move, weren’t so beaten that you couldn’t run. That was a good sign. You were a survivor. He had to remember that. You’d survived before. You would now, too. You would still be alive for him to find, for him to save, and he would save you. If it was the last thing he did, he would save you.

“Joel,” Tommy was at his side and it was quiet at his back. “Same spot.” 

“Good,” Joel said. He carefully picked your fingers up from where they’d fallen in the leaves at Cody’s side and tucked them away in his pocket again before getting to his feet. Ellie was at his side, her rifle in her hands. 

“I want to hurt him,” she said, her voice flat. 

Joel looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since they’d found Cody. There was a darkness in her eyes that terrified him in its familiarity. It was the look she’d had for a split second when he’d found her after David had taken her from him. It was sharp and vicious and demanding and Joel wasn’t sure she knew how to come back from it. 

“Will hurtin’ him help you?” Joel asked as gently as he could. She looked up at him, that sharp look still in her eyes. 

“He hurt my mother,” she said, a hint of barely contained rage on her face. “I need to make him pay.” 

He considered her for a second, trying to think clearly as he looked at the young woman who had once been the girl he’d shepherded across the country. In so many ways, she was still that little girl, one who he’d protected and failed at protecting, one who he had saved and had led to her near demise.

Would this be any worse than anything she had already suffered? Would it hurt her any worse than the things that Joel had allowed on his watch before, when he hadn’t been good enough to take care of her the way she deserved? Would it be, somehow, any more terrible because he allowed it? 

Ellie was so like him in so many ways, ways that terrified him when he thought about it. There was a passion in her that so easily bloomed into rage and he knew what it was to keep that stifled and smothered. He knew, too, what it was to take it out on another human being, even one who deserved it. 

He adjusted his grip on the knife and held the handle out to her. She went to take it but he pulled it back for a moment. 

“Can’t kill him,” Joel said. “Understand?” 

“Joel…” Tommy said at his back, but Joel just held out his empty hand, silencing him. 

“Understand?” He repeated, watching Ellie closely. 

She hesitated a moment, watching him back with those sharp, dark eyes. 

“I understand,” she said, taking the knife from him and turning to Cody. She cocked her head, examining him cooly. 

“Please,” the man whispered, looking up at her. 

“Which fingers did he take?” Ellie asked, not looking back at Joel. 

“Outside two,” Joel said, a twinge in his chest as he said it. “Her wedding ring with ‘em.” 

Ellie nodded, her grip tightening on the knife before lowering her knee to pin Cody’s wrist of his intact hand to the ground. 

“I told you I was gonna fucking kill you,” she said, her voice dangerous as the man tried weakly to pull his arm away from her. “My dad told me not to do that. But I am going to make you fucking pay.” 

She slammed the knife into his hand with a sharp, angry cry, more hacking at him than cutting, striking him again and again until she was splattered with blood and Cody had screamed himself to silence. Joel’s stomach twisted at the sight of it, the satisfaction at knowing Cody’s agony twinged with an ache of his own at the sound of Ellie’s pained scream. 

“If you’re just gonna let her fuckin’…” Tommy snapped, nudging Joel roughly to the side and stepping around him to wrap his arms around Ellie from behind, forcing her to still. She quieted then, no longer screaming and just sobbing instead. “It’s OK baby girl. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up…” 

“No!” She tried to shake him loose but he held firm. “I want him to hurt! I want to make him hurt, I want him fucking dead, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to live, he doesn’t…” 

“I know,” Tommy said gently. “I know. But you hear him? He’s passed out, you’re not gonna make him regret this any more than he already does and Joel’s gonna finish him. He’s not gonna live, OK? He’s paid for it, he’s hurt for it, it’s OK baby girl.” 

The knife slipped from her hold then, lying beside the mangled flesh and bone that had once been Cody’s hand. His pinky and ring fingers were completely gone. 

“C’mon,” Tommy said again. “Gonna get you cleaned up, let Joel finish the job, then we’ll get movin’. You’re OK.” 

He pulled her gently to her feet and gave Joel a deadly look as he passed, Ellie gathered against his side as he led her away. 

Joel knelt and picked up the knife, every inch of it splattered in blood now. He didn’t care. He took Cody’s chin in his hand and gave his head a sharp shake and the man gave a sharp gasp before trying to cough but choked on his own blood instead, his eyes opening slowly. He couldn’t even lift his head now, his eyes the only thing it seemed he could really move. 

“Wanted you to be awake for this,” Joel said, his voice a deadly calm. “Wanted to make sure you felt it. Wanted to be sure you knew why you were dying.”

Joel thrust the knife into Cody’s side, burying it fully between two ribs and twisting it there. His eyes went wide and his body thrashed as much as it could but it was a useless endeavor. He started gasping for breath, the gurgling sound of him starting to drown in his own blood overwhelming the sound of the woods around them as Joel pulled the knife from his side. 

“You could have lived, you know,” Joel continued. “Could have spent the rest of your years anywhere but Jackson, never would have looked for you. She asked me not to look for you, to just leave you alive. Felt like she owed you somethin’. Maybe she thought you’d been a good man once, long time ago. But you and me, we know the truth. You were never a good man, never had it in you to be good. You didn’t deserve her mercy so you ain’t gettin’ mine.”

“You…” he gasped and choked. “Promised…” 

“Promised what?” He asked. “To make it quick for you?” 

He didn’t give Cody a chance to respond. Joel just shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

He thrust the knife in between the same ribs on the other side, twisting it and pulling it free before wiping the worst of the blood on Cody’s pants and getting back to his feet. He put his hand in his pocket, the one that held the pieces of you. He traced your wedding band with his thumb, feeling your cold skin below his touch. How many times had this flesh laced with his? How many times had it tangled in his hair or squeezed his arm or touched his cheek? 

He held it himself now, trying to keep the pieces of you warm as Cody drowned in his own blood. His dying breaths were harsh and rasping and desperate, the last gasp of his mortality clinging to this life as though there was anything but pain to be found for him here. As if there was anything he deserved beyond pain. Just before the light left his eyes, Joel picked Cody’s fingers up off the ground and opened his mouth, forcing them inside. He stood back again, watching as he tried to take two quick, shallow breaths around them before going completely still. 

“Joel,” Tommy said from behind him. 

Joel looked down at Cody’s body for a moment longer. This man had hurt you, raped you, taken you. He was dead now, at Joel’s hand. There was justice in that. He spit on his body all the same. 

He turned to find his brother and daughter standing side by side, Ellie’s eyes still sharp but rimmed in red, her cheeks puffy. Both of them were wet, Ellie no longer splattered in blood. 

“We should move,” Joel said, stalking toward Cody’s horse. Tommy just watched him as Joel mounted up, the horse pawing at the ground for a moment as he got settled. He looked back at his brother. “If you ain’t got the stomach, Tommy, I’ll do this myself…” 

“I’m comin’,” Tommy said, going to another horse and mounting up, too. “Just hope you don’t get lost in the process.” 

Joel didn’t say anything. What was there to say? That the man he had the potential to be had left when you did? That, without you, there was nothing left to lose? 

He didn’t need to say it. Somehow, he was sure, Tommy knew. 

Instead, he nudged his horse forward, starting on the path given to him by the man he’d left in pieces on the ground. 

Next Chapter

A/N: So Joel is pretttttttty damn feral at this point. I'm not sure I've ever written a Joel quite this unhinged and that's not even accounting for the fact that the juxtaposition between Jackson Joel and Feral Joel is pretty harsh. He's just gone, at least for now.

There are just three chapters left of this fic now (I think, the way some of this chapter flowed means it may grow to 41 chapters but I don't think so)! Next chapter is going to be a big one, one that's been building for the whole of this fic and I'm so excited for it. I hope you are, too!

Thanks for being here through this INSANELY lengthy journey both in word/chapter count and in time. It feels like we've been with Joel and Bambi forever and that's because we kind of have been - almost a year now! I hope you've enjoyed the ride. I know I have.

Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[sheerfreesia007]

You’re Losing Me

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word count: 6,928

Content warnings: Arranged marriage, infidelity, mention of sex (nothing graphic), angst

Summary: Chan’s company is failing and he needs help to pull it back from the brink. Your father agrees to help him but there’s some conditions attached to his help. Is Chan willing to do absolutely anything to make sure that his business survives?

Chan stands tensely in front of the large abstract painting next to the taller pristinely dressed man in a form fitting tailored black tuxedo. He can feel the distance and divide between the two of them almost as acutely as if it was slapping him in the face. The man standing next to him was dressed in a designer made tuxedo that he wasn’t even able to pronounce the name of as he stood in his much older well worn tuxedo that he had purchased years ago when he first started his business. The difference between the two of them was almost laughable but Chan knew he had to do this to be able to save his dream.

”So you want me to help fund your company and pull it out of the red.” The man said in an even almost bored tone as he gazed at the abstract painting that Chan couldn’t seem to understand just by looking at it.

”Yes, I am desperate sir. My company is like a child to me and I’m desperate to make it grow.” Chan said softly, imploringly hoping that the man would find it within himself to help him. “We’ve come across a few bad choices and hard times within the company and it’s become a dire situation.” Chan explained softly. The man waved his hand dismissively at his words and Chan feels himself deflate at the gesture. His eyes dart over to the side and sees her anxiously watching him and the man next to him, a soft frown falling on her face as she connects her eyes with his.

”I will help you.” Says the man suddenly and Chan whips his head to stare at the man with widened shocked eyes.

”You will?” Chan asks surprised and the man nods his head once before turning to Chan with a shrewd look on his face.

“I will fund your company and lend my business financial advisors at your disposal.” The man explains as his eyes narrowed on Chan before raking up and down the younger man making him feel vulnerable almost as if he had been scanned by one of those machines at the airport. “But it won’t be for free.” The man said commandingly and Chan immediately began to nod his head.

”Of course not. You’re helping me out more than I can ever repay you for. I will do anything you ask of me.” Chan begins to ramble and the man holds his hand up to stop Chan immediately.

”Anything?” The man asks darkly and Chan feels a shiver race down his spine at that single word. His eyes dart to the side once more and see her watching him anxiously once more as she bites her thumb nail. He squares his shoulders and turns his eyes back to the man before nodding his head, this was their future he had to make sure his company not only survived but flourished.

”Anything.” Chan reassures and feels a shadow fall over him, he has a feeling that he’s about to make a deal with the devil.

”Do you see that woman over there?” The man asks suddenly as he nods his head over to the right side of the art gallery. Chan turns his head and spots a woman who looks to be in her late twenties or early thirties dressed in a stunning emerald green silk dress. Her hair is pulled over one shoulder and falls in an intricate style that fits her face perfectly. She’s pretty he admits silently but he furrows his brows as he looks back to the man beside him.

”Yes.” Chan answers with a confused frown as he watches the man’s top lip curl in distaste as he watches the woman like a hawk.

”That’s my daughter, the last one of my children to remain single.” he sneers out in a tone that encapsulates how he feels about her choice to remain single. “She refuses to marry for anything besides love.” The man explains and Chan feels his stomach drop to his knees. Oh no. “If you want the funding for your company and to make it a successful business, you will make my daughter fall in love with you and marry her.”

”But sir,” Chan begins to protest as he feels his conscience rebel internally at the man’s demand. The harsh angry look from the man has Chan pausing before he speaks a different concern of his. “I already have a girlfriend who I’m in love with.” He says softly as his eyes dart over to said woman who’s been watching him silently in her anxious demeanor. The man’s eyes follow Chan’s as he scoffs softly in distaste.

”Then keep her as your mistress. Live a double life, I don't care what you do. If you want your company to succeed you will make my daughter fall in love with you and marry her or your company will die with you.” The man hisses out darkly and Chan wonders how a father could do this to his own child. He stares into the sparkling angry eyes of the man and sees the darkness within his irises, he wonders if he had always been like this or was only like this because his daughter rebelled against his control. “Discuss it with your girlfriend. Maybe she can talk some sense into you. You have until tomorrow to decide.” And with those last words the man stalked off over to his daughter who smiled beautifully up at him when he came to her side. Chan watched with bated breath as the man smiled softly down at his unassuming daughter who easily slipped her arm around his and they began to walk further into the gallery. She had no idea how dark her father actually was did she?

Chan jolted as he felt a slender arm slip around his own arm and a dainty hand came to rest on his bicep gently. He turned his head and gazed down at the beautifully dressed woman who loved him with her whole heart. He frowned softly before pressing a kiss to her temple and began to guide her in the opposite way of the man and his daughter.

”What did he say?” She asked softly in her sweet lilting tone and Chan felt his heart twist and turn in his chest at what he needed to tell her. He sighed softly and guided her to a quiet dark corner near some paintings of lake scenery. She looked up at him with a worried frown on her face and Chan knew that this was going to hurt just as much as it hurt him.

”He will help me” he began to explain and watched as her face lit up with happiness, he hated himself to suddenly bring her back down with the stipulation. “But, he wants me to marry his daughter in exchange for his help.”

”What?” She asked in a shocked gasp as her eyes widened while she gazed up at him. Chan nodded his head before hanging it between the two of them.

”I told him I already had you and am deeply in love with you. But he said that his daughter refuses to marry for anything but love and that if I want his help I have to make her fall in love with me and marry her. Otherwise my company will die.” Chan laments softly in distress as her soft hand comes up to cup his cheek, she guides his face up to look at her and he’s surprised to see clear understanding on her face.

”What else did he say?” She asked softly and Chan furrowed his eyebrows at how calm she was being about all of this.

”When I told him about you he said that I should keep you as my mistress and live a double life.” He said softly. “But sweetheart, you’re the one I love. I don’t want to pretend with another woman. How is that fair to you?” He insists and she shushes him gently before pressing a kiss to his lips.

”Channie sweetheart” she coos at him softly as she smiles brightly. “You’re too soft for this world.” She teases him softly and Chan groans at her teasing. “I know you love me and only me. I love you too which is why maybe what he said could work.” She reassures him gently and Chan looks at her confused.

”Babe what? No, we’ll find someone else who can help us.” Chan begins to protest and she twists her lips at his words.

”Chan we’ve tried with at least seven other big business men and have been turned down. Your company is bleeding money as we speak, we don’t have many other options. I know how this company is your dream and I promised you I would do whatever I could to help you achieve your dream. I meant it.” She affirmed to him in a tone that brokered no argument. “I think you should take this deal. I don’t have any doubts about your love for me and if this will better both of our lives together while still being able to be together I am willing to take on the role of mistress.”

Chan stared at her with wide shocked eyes as she assured him that they would be able to achieve his dream and still be together. He worried that this wouldn’t work but by listening to her words he could feel his resolve weakening. Even though his conscience was howling with protest within him he knew she was right, they were at their last hope to make this work. He looked into her eyes for a long deep moment and she smiled beautifully up at him before nodding her head slightly. He grinned widely at her for a split moment before lunging forward and crashing his lips to hers as she giggled sweetly, they were going to finally achieve his dream and live their lives the way they should have been.

*-*-*-*

The fashion show had been absolutely stunning and so awe inspiring, you grinned as you stood with your best friend sipping on glasses of champagne and surveying the room with interest. It was a very popular fashion brand and the room was nearly packed wall to wall, making it very hot and overwhelming almost claustrophobic for you. You frown softly as another person brushes up against your back and you feel your skin begin to itch. Turning to your friend you find her gazing around the room with wide bright excited eyes and you chuckle softly before pressing a gentle hand to her elbow causing her to turn to you with a worried look on her face.

”It’s getting a little too crowded for me. I’m going to step outside for a little breather.” You tell her and she steps closer to you with furrowed eyebrows and her eyes darting around your face.

”Do we need to go? We can go.” She reassures you worriedly and you shake your head at her kind gesture.

”No, no I just need a reset.” You tell her before nodding your head to the outside terrace and her eyes look over to it. “I’m just going to be out there to catch my breath. You stay and I’ll come find you once I’m a little more grounded.” She nods her head still with a furrowed brow and you chuckle softly before kissing her cheek. You then turn and make your way out of the room to the outdoor terrace where it’s much quieter.

You suck in a deep breath as the cooler air falls onto your heated skin causing you to sigh tiredly. Walking over to the little stone railing you set your champagne glass down and press your hands to the stone letting it ground you as your mind slows. You take a few deep breaths filling your lungs with cool air as your body slowly begins to calm down after being in the crowded overheated room.

It’s a few moments later that you hear the door to the terrace open and you turn your head to see a handsome man walking out. He stops in his tracks after shutting the door and turning around when he spots you. He’s tall with an athletic build and muscled arms that aren’t hidden by the tight button up shirt he wears with his sleek black dress slacks. His dark black hair is styled with gel and it falls slightly over his pretty dark brown eyes.

”Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude.” He says in a shocked voice but you smile at him and wave your hand.

”You’re not intruding. There’s enough room for both us.” You reassure him kindly before stepping to the side to give him room at the stone railing. He smiles warmly at you before nodding his head in a slight bow before stepping to the railing and leaning back against it.

”It’s packed in there isn’t it?” He asks with a grin as he turns his head to you while crossing his arms over his chest. His smile is devastating to you and you’re easily charmed by his plush lips that pull into a cheeky grin.

”Yeah and so hot with everyone in there.” You agree as you smile softly at him while nodding your head. “Made me a little anxious actually.” You admit softly and then widen your eyes as you look up at him worriedly and he smiles softly at you with sympathy showing on his face. 

“I totally get that. Do you need me to call anyone for you? Do you need anything?” He asked sounding concerned as he stepped closer to you with a furrowed brow. You had been worried about admitting something that could be looked down on about yourself to this handsome stranger but you sighed softly before shaking your head, you really have to stop thinking like your father.

”No, no I’m okay. Thank you though. Just being out here is a good change.” You say softly and he smiles while nodding his head at you.

”Good I hope the company isn’t that bad either.” He jokes goodnaturedly and you grin over at him cheekily before shrugging your shoulder in a teasing manner.

”It’s not bad.” You tease and watch happily as his eyes widen slightly before narrowing playfully as he leans closer to you while an amused smile forms on his lips.

”Not bad? Just not bad?” He asks softly and you can’t help getting caught up in his cologne and his proximity as you grin at him before shrugging your shoulders at him.

”Jury’s still out for debate.” You tease him more and he chuckles softly while hanging his head slightly before shaking it.

”What do I have to do to get a favorable sentence?” He asks flirtatiously and you stare at him surprised for a moment before smiling widely at him.

”Coffee date would be a nice start.” You boldly flirt with him and watch as his eyes crinkle cutely at the sides as he grins at you. He slips his cell phone out his pocket before holding it out to you with a soft smirk on his face.

”Alright, then give me your number so I can schedule one with you.” He says softly as he steps even closer to you. Your head swims with the smell of his cologne and the warmth radiating off his body. Your fingers brush his as you take the cell phone from his hand and you feel your stomach drop at the sensation causing you to suck in your breath harshly. You shake your head slightly at the sensation while your stomach begins to twist and turn within you, you quickly type in your cell phone number and give your name a little pink heart next to it so that he’ll be able to find you in his contacts. You hand him back his phone and he looks down at it, his eyes dancing over the screen before he looks up and grins at you. “I’ll text you pretty.” He says flirtatiously while winking at you before he turns and walks away from you. You watch him walk away and feel slightly hollow before you smile softly shaking your head at him. You turn back to stare out into the garden below hoping that he’ll text you soon, just then you feel your cell phone vibrate and you grin as you pull it out of your clutch and see an unknown number had texted you. 

How does Thursday sound? Coffee at The Wild Bean around one?

*-*-*-*

That’s how it had all started three years ago, a simple serendipitous meeting, at least that’s what you had thought it was at the time but now as you stare at Chan’s naked back as he rails the woman below him you know it never was that. You had come home earlier from a luncheon that you had helped host and set up for one of your girlfriends to only find your husband of two years fucking a woman who had been living in your house under the guise of “manager” for his company. Your eyes trailed over the expanse of his back and saw the dark ruby red scratches adorning his skin that she was leaving on him. Her hand came up and she saw the bright pretty pink nails rake down his skin once more leaving more scratches and felt your stomach roll with disgust and nausea.

”I love you gorgeous always have and always will.” Chan gasps out as he sits up while still moving within her. “My gorgeous love.” He coos at her and you feel the tears begin to prick at your eyes, he’s never called you that it’s always been pretty girl never gorgeous or love. Even on your wedding night he had never called you something so loving. “I love you, love you so much and I can’t wait to meet our little one.” He gasps out as his pace picks up, your mouth falls open as your eyes widen at his words. Your heart that had been so filled with love for the man before you obliterates into a million tiny pieces in your chest as devastation consumes you and you slowly back out of your bedroom closing the door behind you with a silent click.

Your body feels numb as you walk down the hallway passing some of the maids who stop and stare at you with sympathetic looks on their faces. Margot, the head maid walks up to you and halts in her steps as her eyes look over your shoulder to your shut bedroom door before they snap back to you with sorrow filling her eyes.

”I will prepare a new bedroom for you Miss.” she says softly and you blindly nod your head at her words before shuffling past her. “Miss? Should I tell the Mister anything?” She asks with a soft sneer at the bedroom door.

”Tell him not to wait up for me if he asks.” You say over your shoulder before making your way out of the house and back to your car.

*-*-*-*

You stare down at the plate of dinner that the chef has prepared for you and Chan tonight as you sit at the dining table. Chan sits across from you oblivious to all the swirling thoughts in your head as he happily chews his food. It had been a week since you had come home to find Chan fucking his company’s manager, within that time you had hired a private investigator and found out that she was Chan’s first and only love. They were childhood friends who had first started dating in middle school and gone through the test of time together. 

She had been there when he had first started his company and had been there when the company had hit rough times and nearly went under almost three years ago. She had been there when Chan had met up with your father at the art gallery showing all those years ago. And now she lived in your home fucking and loving the man sitting across from you. The man you had thought you had been waiting for all your adult life for, the one you thought you loved wholeheartedly to declare and commit yourself to. 

But as you sat there pushing your food around your plate you wondered if anything about your relationship had been real for him. Bile rose up in your throat and you swallowed it down with a grimace.

”Pretty girl” Chan calls out softly and you flinch at the pet name before schooling your face and looking up at him. He’s watching you with cautious eyes as if you’re a cornered wild animal and you feel like one as you realize that he’s been lying to you your whole relationship. You had despised your parents' loveless marriage ever since you were a little girl and had vowed to never let yourself become like them, cold and numb in their marriage. You had told your father that you only wanted to marry for love and would hold out for that over anything else. But you hadn’t thought that he’d force your hand with the help of Chan. Ultimately you had walked right into a loveless marriage unwittingly and now that your eyes were open you could feel yourself slowly dying. “Pretty girl, you with me?” Chan asked softly and your eyes focused on him.

He smiled warmly at you and your eyes darted around his face wondering if he was thinking about her as he sat across from you. Was he thinking of when he would be able to go be with her again? Did he even care about you at all? 

“There she is. Are you okay?” He asked worriedly as he cut another piece of steak before popping it into his mouth and began to chew. “You’ve been distant this past week. Is everything okay? I’ve missed you.” He said sweetly, liar your brain whispers. You quickly nod your head before mustering up a small smile.

”I’m fine.” You respond and look back down to your plate.

”We haven’t spent the night together in a week are you sure? Usually I can’t keep you off me.” He jokes with a small chuckle as his eyes dart up to look at you with a hungry stare. Bile rises up inside you once more and you feel your body flinch at his salacious look. Your skin crawls as his eyes rake up and down your body from his seat while you try to stay in your seat for the rest of dinner.

”I’m fine, just been tired with all the events going on.” You lie with a sweet smile on your face. Chan’s eyes dart around your face and you know he’s trying to see if you’re lying or not but you keep your soft smile on your face hoping he won’t ask anymore questions.

”Well after dinner why don’t we go up to the bedroom and-“ Chan begins to suggest and you quickly cut him off.

”Not tonight Chan. I’m too tired.” You say quickly as you fake a yawn while raising your hand to cover your mouth. You then stand from your chair and Chan looks up at you surprised with a furrowed eyebrow.

”Pretty girl?” He asks worriedly and you nod your head at him. Always his pretty girl.

”I’m going to bed.” You said before turning from him and the table that seemed to have grown in length distancing the two of you.

”Oh alright, I’ll see you up there.” He says softly and you shake your head at his words.

”I’m going to sleep in the spare room. Don’t want to wake you with my early meetings.” You say over your shoulder before quickly walking out of the room not bothering to look back at him.

*-*-*-*

A month after finding out about Chan and his mistress, or rather his love, you stop obsessing over finding out where he’s spending his time. You had learned that ever since you started distancing yourself from him while you tried to mend your obliterated heart he had been spending more and more time with her. He would often meet her at home and fuck her during the lunch hour to then only call you afterwards to check in with you. At first you would torture yourself and answer his calls but soon you became so indifferent to him that you would now ignore his calls and send him to voicemail.

As you grew indifferent and numb to it all over the months that passed, ultimately checking out of your relationship with Chan, he became more attentive to you and almost clingy and smothering wanting to spend time with you whenever you came home from the events that would keep you busy and away from home. It was the attention you thought you had from him and wanted from him since the beginning, he was finally willing to give it to you now. But it was all in vain now as you knew exactly what was going on in your relationship. You kept growing distant with Chan until all of your interactions were just a perfunctory gesture either in the eye of the public or the watchful eyes of your staff.

Your heart remained completely obliterated in the black hole in your chest as you slipped a mask onto your face each time you stepped out into the public eye. You no longer felt your heart beating for anything, there was no spark left to ignite as you continued to host events for your friends and family.

That was until two weeks ago, you had planned and was hosting a bachelorette party for one of your friends who had finally decided to dive in and tie the knot with her long term boyfriend. You were dressed in a tight emerald dress that was cut low to showcase some cleavage while it fell well above your knees highlighting your thighs, you knew you looked great because when you had left the house tonight Chan had did a double take when he spotted you and tried to talk you into not attending and staying in with him. But thankfully you had easily side stepped him when his manager had shown up to the house to “talk about some things going on in the company”. The way she had eyed you had even told you how great you looked as jealousy twisted her lips into an ugly sneer.

Even that interaction hadn’t sparked anything in your deadened heart but the dashing handsome man sitting next to you at the bar was starting to cause embers to spark within you. He had been lurking in the shadows of the popular club that you had chosen for the party tonight and had kept his eye on your group. He had even been attentive and gotten you anything that you needed plus a few extras that the girls were appreciative of. When the girls were distracted you had made your way to the bar and taken a seat hoping he’d come join you. Thankfully he had when you had placed your drink order with the bartender, he had slipped effortlessly into the seat next to and gestured at the bartender with two fingers. 

“I want to thank you for taking care of us. It’s greatly appreciated.” You say to him as you turn to face him and smile gratefully at him. He smirks softly before nodding his head once at your words.

”You’re more than welcome. If there’s anything that you want that I could provide for you please let me know. I own the club.” He says in a deep tone as he leans closer to you before turning his whole body to face you. One of his arms comes up to rest at the back of your stool while his other arm leans against the bar top almost caging you in as he stares into your eyes with a sure confidence of himself. Your eyes widen slightly at the knowledge that he’s Choi Jongho, a successful club owner in the city.

”Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Choi.” You say pleasantly as you hold your hand out for him to shake. “You may know my father, Tucker Candela.” You inform him as he takes your hand gently and slowly lifts it to his face to press a quick kiss to your knuckles causing your eyes to widen slightly.

”I do, I know of your husband as well Mrs. Bahng.” He informs you softly and you feel the embers that had started to spark sizzle out.

”Oh.” You say disappointed before smiling softly at him.

”What I don’t know is how he could let his beautiful wife out of the house dressed so tempting as you are dressed.” He says lustfully as his eyes heat while they rake up and down your body. And suddenly those embers are igniting and catching on fire in an inferno inside your chest. You smirk softly at him which he returns as his eyes sparkle with challenge tempting you to respond.

”You find me tempting and beautiful?” You ask in a sultry whisper and his smirk widens on his face as he keeps his eyes on you. 

“Would you let me show you how beautiful I find you?” He asked in a dark, desirous tone. Your breath comes out in a gasp as heat blooms within your lower stomach and you feel your thighs clenched tightly with want. You shiver as you feel one of his fingers glide slowly down your bare arm and your head turns to follow the movement of his finger. “We can be as discreet or open as you want.” He assures you and your eyes dart over to him as he stares at you silently.

There’s something comforting in his gaze and you jolt quietly when you feel a steady thump of your heart ring out in your chest. A heartbeat. Your blood sings with relief as you begin to feel your heart to beat once more after laying dormant for some many months. Your breath gasps out softly and you can’t help but reach out to place a gentle hand on his forearm that’s leant against the bar top desperate for a connection with this man who’s putting the pieces of your heart back together for you.

”Please.” You beg him in a gasp and he focuses his eyes directly on your own before nodding his head once. He then stands from his seat and leans down to whisper in your ear.

”Go to the bathroom, follow that hallway to a set of stairs at the end. My office is up there, I’ll let my men know to allow you up.” He whispers and you nod your head once before he’s slipping away from you.

You move back to your group to check in on them making sure that they would be okay without you for a little bit of time. Then you move through the club to the bathrooms and head down the dark hallway past them to the large ominous looking man. He nods his head once at you before stepping to the side and gesturing for you to make your way up them. 

When you make it up to his office Jongho is waiting for you at the door holding it open for you as he takes your hand gently in his and guides you into his office. That night you and Jongho spend it piecing your broken heart back together into something that’s so much stronger than what you were born with.

*-*-*-*

You’re rushing around the spare bedroom trying to make sure that you have everything for your three day weekend trip that you had planned with Jongho a week ago. The two of you had been spending more and more time together ever since meeting six months ago, oftentimes it was secret meetings at his club while you were out “prepping for events” you were involved in but other times it was under the nose of everyone out in the public at these events. At first it was hot, heavy and sexual between the two of you but soon it turned to something more sensual and meaningful. You soon found yourself falling in love with Jongho and while you tried to slow yourself there was just something about him that made your heart beat at an accelerated pace.

You were excited for this weekend to spend it uninterrupted with him after not having much time for each other lately. You needed to have that deep connection that you had both found that fateful night at his club. You wanted him to consume you entirely as you moved into this new chapter of your life. This weekend was going to be a time of amazing changes for you and you couldn’t wait or contain your excitement. Passing your vanity mirror you caught sight of your excited smile that graced your face and paused as you took yourself in for a quiet moment. You were dressed for comfort in a pair of baggy black sweatpants that hung low on your hip bones, a dark maroon hoodie and your hair was pulled up out of your face in a sloppy bun, you looked cozy as you grinned at yourself feeling happy for once after a very long time.

”Don’t you look cute?” Came Chan’s bemused voice causing your smile to immediately dim on your face as you turned to face him. He was leaning against your doorframe with his arms crossed over his broad chest as his eyes danced up and down your body. You internally flinched at his attentions but were glad for your baggy clothes hiding your body from his eyes. “R eady for your girls’ weekend away?” He asked curiously as he pushed away from the doorway and moved closer to you. You smiled excitedly at the reminder of where you were going as you nodded your head at him before moving to your suitcase and double checking it once more for everything that you packed.

”I am. I’m excited to get away for a few days. Just relax and enjoy myself.” You said truthfully and Chan nodded his head as he came to sit down at the foot of your bed and frowned softly at his movements. “Is there something wrong Chan?” You asked curiously not really interested in what was going on with him but you knew he was looking for a reaction from you. This had become a mindless routine between the two of you since you had met Jongho and had started spending more time with him, Chan would come to you looking for some reassurance or a reaction from you and you would dutifully give it to him so that it was easier to keep him at bay this way. You gave him what he wanted and he left you alone for the most part.

”Do you have a moment to talk about something with me?” He asked as he looked over his shoulder at you. The hair at the back of your neck rose and you had a slight inclination that this was going to be about Jongho if the unsure and insecure look on Chan’s face was anything to go by.

”Of course. What did you need to talk about Chan?” You asked sweetly as you walked to the corner of your bed and leant against the post there.

”I don’t want to start an argument with you right before you leave for a weekend away.” He began to explain and you furrowed your brow in faux confusion as your mind hissed one word, liar. “But I wanted to talk to you about your friendship with Choi Jongho. I think you’re getting too close to him and soon others will start talking.” He said worriedly as he looked up at you from his seat on the bed. You gazed down at him still furrowing your eyebrows at him as your mouth pouted slightly at his words.

”But Chan, he’s become a close friend.” You tell him and he nods his head at your words.

”I know pretty girl, I know. And I’m so happy you’ve made another friend. But I think you’re a little too close to him. I mean he’s a young successful business man, what will people think if you keep getting close to him?” He says expressing his concern for your new friendship. You internally smirk as you catch onto the fact that he mentioned how young Jongho is and how successful he is, without a doubt the real reason that Chan wanted you to stop being close to Jongho. You leant further over the post towards Chan and he smiled softly up at you as he tilted his head up, no doubt expecting you to agree with him and reasoning.

”And what would people think if they all knew about your unborn child with your company manager?” You asked in a dangerously low tone that had Chan’s smile dying quickly on his lips as his eyes widened and began to dart around your face.

”What?” He asked in a confused whisper as he watched you quietly with dancing eyes. You smirked down at him enjoying the happiness that quickly left his face as he understood your words and the implications from them. You pressed your index finger under his chin and Chan flinched at the touch.

”Did you think I’d remain blind to your disgusting betrayal? How you worked with my father to make me fall in love with you just so that I would get married? That you would move the woman you were actually in love with into my home? Just so you could keep her close enough to keep fucking her?” You asked him darkly and Chan’s eyes widened at each fact that you laid at his feet. “Did you think I wouldn’t catch you in the act and hear you confess your love to her while admitting to the baby you put in her belly?” You asked as you glared at him darkly with hate filled eyes. 

“Pretty girl-“ he gasped out as he gulped loudly but you cut him off as you pressed your index finger harshly into the underside of his chin.

”You disgust me.” You hissed at him. “I loved you once Chan, you made sure of that didn’t you?” You asked bitterly as you laughed harshly at his wide eyed stare. “Played with my emotions, kept me blind to what was going on under my own roof and had me in your palm just where you wanted me huh?” You asked as your eyes hardened while staring at him before your top lip sneered at him. “Well don’t worry Channie” you cooed at him in that sweet tone you had once heard all those months ago. “My eyes are finally open now.” You said in a low dark tone before stepping away from him without a second glance.

You moved to your suitcase and quickly zipped it up, not bothering to keep an eye on Chan. You heard him stand from the bed and turn to face you but you didn’t pay him any mind.

”What does that mean for us? Where does that leave us?” He asks suddenly and you scoff softly at his questions as you pick up your suitcase by the handle and turn to face him. “I don’t want to lose you!” He cries out in a soft lament and you laugh bitterly at his sad performance as your eyes connect with his and you feel absolutely nothing for him.

”You lost me a long time ago.” You said disgustedly as you walked past him and out of the bedroom. Margot is walking down the hallway with a man in a neat business suit following close behind her and you smirk wickedly as you realize that the planets have aligned perfectly for once for you. 

“You have a lovely weekend Miss. We will be here waiting for your return.” Margot says with a head nod as you pass her and your father’s lawyer. Your smirk turns into a happy excited grin as you swing the front door open and spot Jongho waiting at the open back passenger door of his town car that’s going to be your ride to your weekend destination. You hear Chan’s shout from inside the house and your grin widens as you know that your father’s lawyer is advising of his breach of contract to the clause that was buried in their contract that they had signed all those years ago, if a child is fathered with any other woman before your wife you would be held in breach of contract and all support and funding will be pulled from your company and the marriage will be dissolved.

You quickly rushed down the front steps of your house and glee filled your whole body. The driver quickly took your suitcase from your hand and you launched yourself into Jongho’s waiting arms feeling his love begin to pour into you as he held you close. He pressed a sweet loving kiss to your lips before pulling away to rush you into the back of the car chuckling as you giggled knowingly at his rushed movements.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

in your arms

pair: Draco Malfoy x reader summery: y/n (she/her) is Draco Malfoy 's girlfriend and one night Draco show's up at her house and he ends up spending the night there, with him cuddled up in her arms crying after he told her that he was forced to join the death eaters.

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The summer night was quiet, the moonlight spilling softly through the open window of your bedroom. You were curled up in bed, a book lying forgotten on your lap as you fought the pull of sleep. The past few days had been restless—an uneasy feeling gnawing at your mind, one you couldn’t quite shake.

Just as your eyelids began to droop, a faint noise caught your attention. A soft tap tap tap at the window. Startled, you sat up, glancing towards the source of the sound. Your breath hitched when you saw a familiar figure standing on the other side of the glass. Draco.

You quickly moved to open the window, your heart racing. He climbed in, his usual grace replaced with a trembling urgency. You could see it immediately—something was terribly wrong. His normally immaculate appearance was disheveled; his hair, usually perfectly styled, was tousled, and his eyes were red-rimmed, dull with exhaustion.

“Draco?” you whispered, concern lacing your voice as you reached out to touch his arm.

He flinched slightly at your touch, his entire body tense, but then he collapsed against you, burying his face in your shoulder. You could feel him shaking, his breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps. He clung to you as if you were his lifeline, the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

“I—” he started, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know where else to go. I didn’t want to—oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, holding him close as he trembled in your embrace. “It’s okay,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “You’re safe here, Draco. You’re always safe with me.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was his quiet sobbing, muffled against your shoulder. You led him to the bed, gently coaxing him to lie down beside you. He didn’t resist, his grip on you never loosening. As you lay together, he finally managed to choke out the words that had been tearing him apart.

“They—they forced me to join them,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, raw with pain. “The Death Eaters. My father—he… I didn’t have a choice, Y/N. I didn’t want this. I never wanted this.”

Your heart ached for him, for the boy who had been thrust into a life of darkness and danger, a life he never asked for. You tightened your hold on him, your fingers gently running through his hair, trying to offer him some semblance of comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Draco,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you felt his pain as acutely as if it were your own. “But you’re not alone. We’ll get through this, together. I promise you.”

He looked up at you then, his silver eyes shining with unshed tears, filled with a vulnerability he had never let you see before. “How can you say that?” he asked, his voice trembling. “How can you still want to be with me after everything?”

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumb brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “Because I love you, Draco. And nothing—not even this—will change that.”

He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes as he leaned into your touch. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, but there was a hint of relief in his voice, as if your words had managed to reach some part of him that had been drowning in despair.

You pulled him closer, his head resting against your chest as you held him in your arms. The night stretched on, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the boy lying beside you, the one who had been forced to carry a burden far too heavy for someone so young.

As the minutes turned to hours, his sobs slowly subsided, his breathing evening out as he finally succumbed to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at him. You felt his body relax against yours, the tension easing as he drifted off to sleep, still wrapped securely in your arms.

You stayed awake for a while longer, your heart heavy with worry but also with a fierce determination. No matter what the future held, no matter how dark the days ahead might be, you knew you would stand by Draco’s side. You would be his light, his refuge from the storm that raged outside.

And as the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, whispering a silent vow to yourself. You would protect him, love him, and do whatever it took to help him find his way back to the boy you knew he truly was—the one who deserved so much more than the fate he had been forced into.

[simpingforstardew]

misty [chapter three]

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: harvey has always been a man of routine and order— although just as he begins to tire of his life in pelican town, a new farmer moves to the valley and turns his life around. chapter three.

warnings: poor overworked harvey :(( please enjoy my harvey playlist while you read ♡ (this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 1.6k

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The fluorescent lights of the clinic cast a harsh, sterile glow, illuminating the white walls and linoleum floors of Harvey’s small office, casting an unnaturally pale glow over the cluttered desk. The clatter of the doctor’s footsteps on tiled floors echoes through the empty hallways.

Today was supposed to be different. Today was supposed to be his day off.

For the past two weeks, Harvey had been working overtime, sacrificing his days off to update Pravoloxinanone prescriptions, coordinate with healthcare professionals around Ferngill, and arranging appointments for the townsfolk. Turns out that without the distraction of an attractive farmer, the passing work days have been unforgivingly laborious.

He could, in theory, ask Maru to pick up some extra shifts, to stay behind a couple hours more. He knew she was eager to help, but he couldn’t bring himself to burden her further. She had her own responsibilities, attending college lectures online while juggling part-time work at the clinic.

A sudden death rattle of his fax machine shattered the silence, its mechanical whirring cutting through the stillness of the office like a knife— a relentless reminder of the endless stream of tasks demanding his attention.

He glances at the clock on the wall, his tired eyes struggling to focus through the thick lenses of his glasses.

3:30 pm.

Another hour wasted, another day lost to the demands of his job. He sighed wearily, running a hand through his greying hair. Harvey still couldn’t tell if the strands of silver were a testament to his age or his perpetual stress. He didn’t know which answer he would prefer.

He gazed out of his window, watching sparrows gracefully darting through the clear sky above. Dark-eyed juncos, specifically— Junco hyemalis. Harvey’s brief fascination with bird-watching while at University always managed to resurface during moments like this, when searching for an excuse to look away from his work.

The sight stirs something within him, prompting him to break the monotony. Locking himself in his office, Harvey realized, would only consign him to an evening of fatigue. So, he pushes away from his cluttered desk, picking up his green overcoat from the coat rack as he leaves the clinic.

Hurrying down the cobblestone path, Harvey’s mind races with a cacophony of thoughts. He fails to notice you walking his way until it is too late.

You collide with a jolt, and Harvey stumbles backward. The doctor could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. His dishevelled appearance must have been evident, his fatigue and stress written plainly across his face.

“Oh, shoot, I—,” You panic, rubbing your shoulder bashfully, “I am so sorry, Harvey I-,”

“No, no, It is perfectly fine— I was just, distracted tthinking about a recent article I read about the recent rise of…” His voice trails off, acutely aware of how awkward he must sound, “Whooping… cough.”

“Hm, that doesn’t sound like much fun,” you grimace sympathetically.

“Oh, on the contrary! Pertussis is actually rather fascinating, that reminds me to reach out to Jodi and Shane to see if they can book a vaccination appointment for Vincent and J—”

“You’re doing the thing.” You interrupt, recognising a fellow workaholic when you see one. A kindred spirit.

“What thing? I am not doing a… thing.”

“Sure you are— you’re doing the thing I used to do at my old job,” Your tone gentle but firm. “You grovel and moan over your work, it stresses you out so you take a break, then you realize you’re stuck thinking about the work that was stressing you out!”

“Well, I am a doctor— There is no way for me to not think… I- I have an entire town to look after for Yoba’s sake. ” Harvey retorts defensively.

“Of course, and that’s the problem.”

“That is..?”

In that moment, as you notice the doctor picking as the skin on his fingers, you see the bags under his eyes; the paleness of his skin. You had seen undead creatures in the mines more full of life.

“Who’s looking after you, Harvey?” your voice softens, concern evident in your eyes, “I mean, I don’t want to pry, but I’m not surprised you’re stressed with the weight of the valley on you all the time. But you can’t manage that burden alone. Nobody could.”

“O-Oh, I um—,” Harvey falters, stammering as his defences crumble in the face of your genuine concern, “Appreciate your candour, truly, but you do not need to worry about me. My well-being shouldn’t be any of your…” He huffs, his cheeks flushed.

Despite his larger stature, Harvey’s wide eyes scanning your face anxiously made the man appear small; weak. You ignore the impulse to take his rosy cheeks in your hands, or to clasp his hands to calm his nervous fidgeting.

He clears his throat as his phone rings— a blocky grey mobile, a model you haven’t seen since 2005.

“I- need to take this call, I’m sorry.” He leaves, jogging back to the clinic. As you see him leave, you wonder what exactly he was apologising for.

As you push open the creaky doors of the saloon, the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter wash over you like a warm embrace. The dimly lit room is filled with the scent of aged wood and the tang of whiskey.

“Hey there, stranger!” Sam’s booming voice cuts through the din, drawing the attention of the entire room. His grin is as infectious as ever, and you can’t help but return it as you make your way over to the group by the pool table. Abigail and Sebastian wave you over eagerly, their faces lit up with genuine excitement.

“Hey gang, sorry I got caught up with something,” You drop your backpack on the polished wooden floor as you crash onto the plush sofa next to Abigail.

It’s been years since you’ve all been together like this—no screens or avatars, just flesh and blood friends reconnecting in the real world. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you. Sure, Sebastian is now a little taller, Sam a little more pierced, Abigail a little more muscular. Despite what has changed since you last visited the valley to see your grandfather, the gang was still here. And with the way you all slip into conversation, it’s as if you never left.

As you settle in, taking in the familiar faces and the comforting hum of conversation, Abigail leans in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, what’s going on with your love life? It seems like every time we’d chat online, you’d either be lovesick or swearing off romance altogether.”

Your smile falters slightly.

It wasn’t as though you weren’t looking for love— if anything, you consider yourself quite the romantic— but with the chaos of the farm, dating seems out of the question.

“I don’t know, Abs. I’ve come to realise that dying alone is underrated,” You quip with a chuckle, hoping a comedic distraction will satisfy as an answer, “Honestly, the freedom of being single rules, you guys should try it some time.”

“Nahh,” Sam lets out a hearty laugh, flopping down on top of you and Abigail with all the grace of a newborn foal, “We’ve got the dating thing down, shout out to your lonely ass though.”

“Sam!”Abigail gasps incredulously, pushing the blonde off with a huff, though there’s a fondness in her eyes that belies her words, “Don’t be an dick!”

You all share a laugh as Sam looks up from his crumpled position on the floor, his puppy-dog eyes silently pleading for forgiveness.

Sebastian places his drink on a nearby table, sauntering over to the three of you, “Well, (Y/n) if you ever need a wingman, you know where to find me.” He smirks at you before picking up the pool cue resting against the wall.

“Pfft, as if they’d pick you to be their wingman when I’m right here!” Sam stands up, looking frantically between you and Sebastian before dropping dramatically to his knees, “Right, bestie? You’d totally trust me to pick you out a partner!”

Before you can imagine what having the punk as your wingman would entail, the bell above the bar’s front door chimes: Elliot strides through the saloon, exchanging greetings with Emily and Gus before running his fingers through his auburn hair. You wonder what shampoo he uses.

The poet’s eyes scan the room until they land on you. “Ah, apologies for the interruption. Have any of you seen Harvey, perchance? This is the second time he has failed to show…” Elliot’s voice trails off, concern etching lines into his chiselled features.

“Oh, I saw him earlier. He seemed,” Overworked? Exhausted? Close to death? “…busy.”

“Ah, well that certainly sounds like him. If you happen to run into him again, do try to convince him to re-join society.” Elliot laughs, although there is no more humour in his statement as there is truth.

As the author leaves, the conversation in the saloon continues to flow. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you might have overstepped with Harvey earlier— the thought gnaws at you.

You don’t know why you are so worried about him, surely he can look after himself; surely it didn’t matter if he has somebody in his life to look after him. You try not to think about somebody else being there for him. Somebody else holding him at night. Somebody else wiping away his tears.

Instead, you force a smile, joining in the laughter, as your concern for Harvey lingers, a shadow over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere of the saloon.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Baddie and The Beast | Jacob Fatu x Black!Fem OC | 18+!

Description: Myra and Jacob meet

Chapter: 1/6

Face Claim: Flo Milli

Warnings: Drinking, strong language, one night stand, p in v, oral (fem receiving), flirting, nipple play, pet names, mention of loss of a loved one.

This is the Jacob x Myra sequel to Swipe Right, Rivals With Benefits and Kiss It Better. As always my stories are NOT about real people and does not reflect their character. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. If kink content isn't for you, specifically Primal Kink (google if need be) for this one, please scroll. You have been warned.

Word count: 3,159

My masterlist can be found here

Taglist: @lov3rla03 @acute-crashout-jeyuso @adoreesun @Isabella-2025 @skyesthebomb

Flashback, last summer -

Myra sipped her mixed drink sitting at the hotel bar. Kiley and Chris were back in the suite knocked out, but Myra had just been unable to. Her mind was racing.

The trio had just graduated nursing school and decided on a little beach trip before time to get serious about their new volunteer jobs at the free clinic. Today also just so happened to be the 6 year anniversary of her dad's death. Every year she tries to push it out of her head and focus on other things. She was well aware of the safety issue, being a woman drinking alone in a strange city, which is why she left a note for Kiley and Chris that she was going down to the hotel bar. Not just that but she only plans to have the one drink.

Myra stared at her drink, swirling the liquid around as her thoughts swirled within her. The ice cubes clinked against the glass, echoing the turmoil in her heart. Despite her attempts to push away the painful memories, they always found a way to surface on this day.

After the live show, Jacob Fatu was beyond exhausted. His body aches from taking one too many nasty bumps in his match tonight.

He trudges into the hotel bar, his expression grim as he searches for a place to sit. The dim lighting and low murmur of conversation do little to soothe his nerves. He spots an empty stool at the end of the bar and makes his way over, wincing slightly as he sits down.

The bartender, a middle-aged man with a tired expression, approaches him. "What can I get ya?" he asks, his voice gruff but friendly.

"Jack and coke, please," Jacob orders, The bartender nods and turns to make the drink, leaving Jacob alone with his thoughts once again.

As he waits for his drink, Jacob's eyes scan the room, his gaze settling on a woman sitting a couple of seats down. She's sipping on a mixed drink, her expression distant and lost in thought. He can't help but notice the sadness in her eyes.

The bartender returns with his drink, setting it down in front of him. Jacob takes a sip, letting the burn of the alcohol distract him from his own aches and pains. His eyes flicker back to the woman, his curiosity piqued by her melancholy demeanor.

Jacob watches her out of the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering on her delicate features. She's beautiful, but there's something more to her, something that draws him in despite himself. He finds himself debating whether or not to strike up a conversation with her.

As he ponders, she glances up and catches his gaze. Their eyes lock for a moment, and a jolt of electricity shoots through him. She quickly looks away, but the damage is done. Jacob's interest is piqued, and he can't resist the urge to approach her.

He downs the rest of his drink, his heart racing with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Taking a deep breath, he slides off the stool and walks over to where she's sitting. He clears his throat, trying to sound casual as he speaks.

"Hey," he says, his voice rough yet friendly. "Mind if I join you?"

She looks up at him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Um, sure," she replies, gesturing to the empty seat next to her. "Go ahead."

He takes a seat, the proximity to her causing his heart to beat even faster. Up close, he can see the subtle lines of worry etched on her face, the weariness in her eyes. "You look like you've had a rough night," he comments, hoping to strike up a conversation.

She glances at him, a small, wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You could say that," she replies, her voice soft and tired. She wasn't going to trauma dump on a complete stranger how her dad had been killed in a robbery gone wrong."You look like you been dragged to hell and back."

Jacob chuckles, wincing slightly as the movement sends a twinge of pain through his sore muscles. "I'm a professional wrestler." he explains, rolling his shoulders to ease some of the tension. "Takes a lot out of you."

"Ah, so that explains the bruises," she says, nodding in understanding. Her eyes roam over his body, taking in the various marks and scars that litter his skin with curiosity noticing the small wound on his head. "Doesn't look like you need stitches but you might wanna get that checked out."

"You're a doctor or something?" he asks, noticing the keen observation in her gaze.

"No, actually," she replies, though there's still a sense of pride in her voice. "I'm a nurse. Just graduated."

"Impressive," he says, genuinely admiring her accomplishment. "Congrats, beautiful."

Myra smiles softly, and she looks down at her drink, avoiding his gaze. "Thanks," she mumbles, clearly unused to being complimented like that. Her friends were supportive of course but still. "I'm Myra, by the way."

"Jacob," he replies, holding out his hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you, Myra."

She takes his hand, her touch sending a small shiver down his spine. Her skin is soft and cool against his calloused palm, a stark contrast to the roughness of his own. They hold hands for a moment longer than necessary before she lets go, her heart skipping a beat. When was the last time a man gave her butterflies? oh right. Her high school sweetheart Devon who had ultimately cheated on her, broke her heart and made her swear off relationships for the foreseeable future.

Myra pushes the memories of Devon aside, focusing on the man in front of her. There was something about Jacob that intrigued her, despite the fact that he was a total stranger. Something about his tattoos, and the jewelry in his locs. His rugged appearance, his confident demeanor, and the way he looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and admiration all made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in a long time.

They sit in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. The air between them is charged with an unspoken tension, and it's making Myra's heart race. She steals a glance at him, taking in the way his muscles ripple under his shirt as he moves. He catches her looking, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"See something you like?" he asks, his voice low and suggestive.

Myra pauses a moment and sips her drink to hide how embarrassed she was at being caught staring. "I was just...um..." she stammers, searching for an excuse.

Jacob grins, clearly enjoying her flustered state. "No need to be shy," he says, leaning closer to her. "I don't mind you looking."

His proximity makes her heart pound even harder in her chest. She can smell his cologne, a masculine scent that sends a shiver down her spine. She tries to maintain her composure, but it's difficult with him so close to her. "What if I'm tryna do more than look?" she said seductively.

Jacob's eyes darken at her words, his gaze raking over her body. "Shit, I just hope you know what you getting into, babygirl," he replies, his voice husky with desire.

Myra's breath hitches at the pet name, her body reacting instinctively to the way he says it. She meets his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and challenge. "Oh, I think I can handle it," she says, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

The tension between them reaches its boiling point, and before they know it, they're stumbling out of the bar and up to the 5th floor.

As soon as they reach his room, Jacob pushes Myra up against the door, his lips crashing down on hers in a fierce, passionate kiss. She melts into him, her body arching against his as she returns the kiss with equal fervor.

They stumble their way into the room, barely managing to make it to the bed before their clothes are being torn off. Jacob's hands roam over her body, his touch both gentle and rough at the same time. He nips at her neck, leaving a trail of love bites in his wake as he moves down to her collarbone.

Myra moans softly as he continues his exploration of her body. She can feel the roughness of his stubble against her skin, sending shivers down her spine yet again. Her nails scrape against his back, leaving red marks in their wake.

Jacob groans at the sensation, his hips grinding against hers as he moves lower. He kisses and licks his way down her chest, his lips closing around one of her nipples. He teases it with his tongue, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he looks up at her through hooded eyes.

Myra's back arches off the bed, her breath coming in short gasps as he continues his assault on her body. She can feel the heat pooling between her legs, her desire for him growing with every touch and every kiss.

Jacob smirks against her skin, sensing her growing need. He moves lower, trailing kisses down her stomach until he reaches the apex of her thighs. He looks up at her again, his eyes dark with lust. "You want this, babygirl?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.

Myra nods, unable to form coherent words. She can feel his breath against her sensitive skin, and it's driving her wild. She wants him, needs him, more than she's ever needed anyone before.

Without waiting another second, Jacob dives in, his tongue exploring her with expert precision. He knows exactly how to touch her, how to make her writhe and moan beneath him. His fingers grip her thighs, holding her in place as he devours her.

Myra's hands fist in the sheets, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure wash over her. She can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, her moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing second. "Jacob, please," she gasps, her voice trembling with need.

Jacob grins against her, his tongue flicking over her sensitive clit. He can tell she's close, and he's determined to push her over the edge. He doubles his efforts, his movements becoming more urgent as he brings her closer and closer to her release.

Myra's body trembles, her legs shaking as she teeters on the edge of ecstasy. She can feel the tension building within her, every nerve ending in her body tingling with anticipation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, she shatters, her orgasm washing over her in a wave of pure bliss.

As Myra comes down from her high, Jacob reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a condom. He rips it open with his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers as he rolls it on.

He moves over her, his body hovering above hers as he positions himself at her entrance. "You ready for me, babygirl?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.

Myra nods, her body still sensitive from her orgasm. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Yes, please," she breathes, her voice trembling with anticipation.

With a low growl, Jacob thrusts into her, burying himself to the hilt. He stills for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size, before starting to move. His pace is rough and urgent, his hips snapping against hers as he takes her hard and fast.

Myra's nails rake down his back, leaving red trails in their wake as she clings to him. She meets his thrusts with her own, her body arching off the bed as she matches his rhythm. Her moans fill the room, mingling with the sound of their bodies coming together.

Jacob's grip on her hips tightens, his fingers digging into her skin as he pounds into her relentlessly. Sweat drips down his forehead, his muscles straining with the effort of holding back his own release. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice hoarse with pleasure.

Myra's walls flutter around him, the sensation sending him closer to the edge. He can feel her body tightening around him, signaling that she's close again. "Come for me, babygirl," he growls, his eyes locked on hers.

With a few more hard thrusts, Myra is coming undone again, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Her walls clench around him, pulling him deeper inside her as she cries out his name.

The feeling of her coming apart beneath him sends Jacob over the edge as well. He buries his face in her neck, his hips stuttering as he empties himself into the condom. His body shudders with pleasure, his grip on her hips tightening as he rides out his orgasm.

They collapse onto the bed, their bodies tangled together as they struggle to catch their breath. Well Damn.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴

Present Day -

Kiley and Zilla had been dating for months now and felt it was time for them to officially move in together. As they packed up their things, they realized they needed some extra help moving all their belongings. Kiley's best friend, Myra, and Zilla's cousin, Jacob, had both offered to lend a hand.

Myra arrived at Kiley and Zilla's new place, ready to help with the move. As she walked in, she saw Jacob and Zilla lifting a heavy piece of furniture. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized him, but he didn't seem to recognize her.

Myra stood there for a moment, her eyes fixed on Jacob as he moved with ease, muscles flexing under his tight ass muscle shirt. She couldn't help but feel a pang of desire as she remembered their night together last summer.

Jacob continued to work, completely oblivious to Myra's presence. He was focused on the task at hand, his attention solely on helping Zilla. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

Kiley saw Myra standing there and quickly went over to greet her best friend with a hug, "Hey Bookie"

Myra returned the hug, tearing her eyes away from Jacob for a moment. "Hey Le," she said, trying to act nonchalant. But her heart was still racing at the sight of him.

Kiley noticed the look on Myra's face and gave her a soft smile. "You okay? You seem a little... distracted," she asked.

"Huh? Yeah. I'm fine." Myra said

Kiley chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You're staring at Jacob like he's a piece of meat," she said with a smirk.

"What? No, I'm not," she protested, trying to play it cool. But she knew she had been caught.

"Not what?" Zilla asked as he and Jacob approached.

Myra's heart skipped a beat as Jacob walked closer, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. She could feel her cheeks heating up, and she silently cursed herself for being so obvious.

Zilla and Kiley exchanged a knowing look, both of them noticing the tension between Myra and Jacob.

Jacob's gaze lingered on Myra for a moment, she looked familiar but he couldn't place her.

"Hey, I don't think we've met," Jacob said, extending a hand to Myra. "I'm Jacob, Zilla's cousin."

Myra took his hand, her skin tingling at the touch. "Myra," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm Kiley's best friend."

Jacob's grip was firm, and he held her hand for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes searched her face, still trying to figure out why she looked so familiar.

Zilla watched the interaction between Myra and Jacob, a smirk playing on his lips. He knew his cousin was attracted to Myra, and he couldn't wait to see how this would play out.

Kiley nudged Zilla with her elbow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Looks like someone's got a thing for Myra," she whispered.

Zilla chuckled quietly, "Ah shit. We get to bet on someone's love life this time? I bet they hook up within a week."

Kiley grinned, "Oh you're on. I bet it'll take them at least a month."

Zilla shook his head, "Too long. They're already attracted to each other, it's obvious. Give it a week."

"We're right here, dumbasses." Myra sighs

Zilla and Kiley both turn to look at Myra, grins on their faces. "We know," Zilla said with a smirk.

"And we don't care," Kiley added, winking at her friend. "You and Jacob are totally attracted to each other, it's only a matter of time before you give in."

Myra rolled her eyes, trying to act annoyed but secretly feeling a thrill at the thought of giving in to her attraction to Jacob.

Jacob, who had been listening to the conversation, couldn't help but smirk. He found Myra's feisty attitude endearing, and he was starting to wonder what it would be like to see her completely unravel.

Jacob, not one to waste time, took a step closer to Myra. "Hey, can I ask you something?" he asked, his voice low and confident.

Myra's heart skipped a beat at his tone, but she tried to maintain her cool exterior. "What is it?" she asked, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you want to go out with me sometime?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Myra was taken aback by the question, and for a moment, she was speechless. She hadn't expected him to be so direct, and her mind was racing with conflicting emotions.

Zilla and Kiley watched the exchange with bated breath, eager to see how Myra would respond.

Myra took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I...I, No." she said hesitantly, her heart pounding in her chest.

Jacob's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Really? Why not?" he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

"You figure out why." Myra said sharply, "Kiley, I'ma head home, boo. Love you. Peace, Zilla."

Zilla and Kiley exchanged a look, both of them surprised by Myra's response and confused.

Kiley shrugged, "Damn, I thought she'd go for it."

Zilla chuckled, "Guess we'll have to reevaluate our bet."

Kiley nodded in agreement, "Yeah, no way was she going to say no for no reason. Something's going on with her."

"I'm gon' head out too, Uce." Jacob tells Zilla.

Zilla nodded, "Alright, man. See you later."

He watched as Jacob left, still reeling from Myra's rejection.

Zilla turned to Kiley, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You think we should talk to her about it?" he asked.

"I'd rather you fuck me all over our new house. Break it in good." Kiley said.

Zilla chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire. "Now that's an offer I can't refuse."

[luxeavenger]

Deep Breath

Kinktober prompt: Breathplay

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Backstage Pass!Bucky x Backstage Pass!Steve x reader

Warnings: Breathplay, dvp

Words: 994

Thanks for reblogging.

Kinktober Masterlist | Backstage Pass Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi

part 1

“Take a deep breath, princess,” Steve tells you.

You take in a big lungful of air without needing to know why. Then Bucky’s arm comes from behind you. He presses his warm palm over your mouth, and pinches your nose closed with this thumb and forefinger. He eases your head back against his shoulder, cutting off your air, with no hope of dodging away from his restraining hand.

Your lizard brain kicks in before the rest of your brain can catch up, and your heartbeat thunders in your ears, fast and erratic. But then Bucky’s soothing voice is in your ear, “I’ve got you, princess. Stevie’s got you too.”

Of course they’ve got you. They’ve always got you. There’s no place from which you could fall where they wouldn’t be waiting there to catch you.

You nod. Your racing pulse slows, and you let your eyes flutter closed. Giving yourself over to them means you don’t have to think about anything. You don’t have to worry about anything. All you have to do is feel them. Enjoy the press of their bodies against yours. How thoroughly they surround you. How completely they fill you.

“Eyes on me, princess,” Steve’s voice is gentle, but insistent.

Your eyelids flutter open, and his smile is soft and beautiful. “Good girl,” he murmurs quietly.

Just as the need for a breath becomes urgent, Bucky’s hand is gone.

“Breathe for me, gorgeous,” he whispers in your ear.

As instructed, you breathe, and the action sends endorphins cascading through your body. Your fingers tingle with the release of happy chemicals, and you exhale a long, wavering, exultant moan.

Both of your men make encouraging noises while they push their cocks into you harder.

“Deep breath, princess,” Steve’s low baritone instructs.

Bucky’s hand covers your mouth and nose again, and this time… it’s pure, unadulterated bliss.

Not being able to breathe makes you acutely aware of everything else that’s happening with your body. Steve’s thumbs stroking over the stiff, sensitive peaks of your nipples. The heat and tension of your impending orgasm building in your center. The strong, steady thrum of Bucky’s heartbeat against your back. The contraction and release of their abs and thighs as they work in tandem to fuck you.

“Come on, sweetheart. Come for us,” Steve urges.

He feels it before you do, and gives a happy moan when your orgasm hits hard and messy. Come rushes out of you, soaking them both as you squirt for them.

“Fuck yes,” Bucky groans.

“Keep it going for us,” Steve demands.

Bucky releases your face, and the sudden influx of oxygen fans the fading flame of your orgasm, coaxing another orgasm out of you, a wave of pleasure so pure and intense the world goes dim for a few moments.

“Good girl,” they murmur at you while you recover. “So fucking good for us.”

Steve is beaming at you, and Bucky is wearing a beautific smile when he turns your head so he can kiss you.

You sigh contentedly.

Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers are proof that if god is real, she has favorites.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks.

“Of course.”

“Do you want to keep going?” Steve asks.

Each breath you take belongs to them anyway, so you give him an eager, “Yes.”

“Then take a deep breath, princess,” Steve orders.

You inhale, filling your lungs with the smell of sex and lust, and the crisp, clean scents of your big, beautiful men. Your lungs hold the memory of those mingling fragrances while Bucky suffocates you, and they both fuck you.

Your hands wrap around Bucky’s forearm for support. Steve studies your face, looking for any sign of pain, exhaustion, or panic. You nod at him to let him know you’re fine. If you wanted Bucky to stop all you needed to do was tap his arm and he’d let up.

But you don’t want him to stop.

Another orgasm is building in your center. It already feels like a raging storm, and you aren’t even at your edge yet. Tears sting at the back of your eyes, and gather at your waterline. One spills over onto your cheek, and Steve sucks in a breath.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now, princess,” Steve delivers his praise in a voice steeped with awe. Ordinarily he’d ask if he could take a picture of you, but he’s too busy keeping an eye on you right now. You make a mental note to ask for a repeat performance, and make sure he has his phone close at hand next time.

Bucky’s hand lifts again, and you use that first precious lungful of oxygen to beg them to fuck you harder.

Your desperation spurs them on. Steve’s thumb finds your clit, every pass of his thumb lights your nerves on fire, sending little zings of electricity jolting through your core. Bucky snaps his hips into you harder, sending thunder reverberating up your body with each powerful thrust.

Your mouth opens behind Bucky’s palm, and your hands squeeze his arm hard enough that your fingernails pierce his skin.

“We’ve got you, baby girl,” Bucky whispers huskily in your ear. “We’re right here. Waiting for you. Just let go and come for us.”

Your orgasm ignites and sizzles through you like black powder. Every muscle in your body sings with the force of it.

Then Bucky lets you breathe again.

And here, right at this precise moment, you’re pretty sure your soul leaves your body. Because all you’re aware of is the weight of Bucky’s arm around your middle holding you up, Steve’s brilliantly blue eyes watching you, the incoherent noises tearing their way out of your throat, and Bucky and Steve groaning as their cocks jerk and throb as they spill their come inside of you.

Your eyelids flutter open slowly, and you find yourself staring up into Steve’s sky blue eyes.

He smiles at you radiantly, “Welcome back, princess.”

part 3

[fandom-smutty-shots]

Summary: Reader is asked to wait in a room, and gets a surprise visit from Homelander when she does.

Warnings: Oral(f receiving), rough sex, daddy kink, and well Homelander is a warning in and of itself.

Word Count: 2.1k

You were nervous. Ashley had asked you to wait in the meeting room, somewhere you had never been before. You stood nervously, tapping a finger against the desk, wondering if you were about to get fired. You couldn't think of anything you had done, but the longer you waited, the more you could feel yourself sweat.

After what felt like an eternity, the doors slid open, and to your surprise, the Homelander walked through. Alone.

"(Y/n)!" Homelander exclaimed, that beautiful smile plastered across his face. "Glad to see you could make it."

"H-homelander, sir," you stuttered, confusion evident in your tone. "I'm so sorry sir, I don't know-"

He was in front of you in an instant. Gosh he moved so gracefully, he was a literal god standing before... well, you. You opened your mouth again, but nothing came out, the shock of being so close making your heart race.

"You're so nervous, (Y/n)." He raised his gloved hand and held the side of your face, the touch making you melt. "Just relax."

"I'm sorry sir, I just, um, I have no idea-"

Homelander interrupted you again with a finger to your lips. He stroked you, that smile fading as he spoke. "You know the best part of being me?"

You shook your head, feeling a loss of words as his other hand wrapped around the small of your back and pulled you closer.

"I can smell when women want to fuck me."

Your eyes went wide and you stumbled back, or at least tried to before Homelander's impossible strength caught you and held you in place, right against him.

"I'm so so so sorry sir," you apologized, unsure how to respond to his accusation. The closer he got, the more your body betrayed you as your core heated up. You couldn't deny you were attracted to him, the thought of someone so powerful even knowing you existed was just... thrilling.

"Don't apologize." Homelander's hand travelled around your back before resting on your ass, giving you a gentle squeeze. "I like what I see too."

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you were positive he could smell the sweat coming off you. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you, and now here you were, in the dream of every American girl - having a supe give you attention.

The hand on your face pushed into your lips, forcing them open as Homelander slid a finger into your mouth, the texture of his gloves on your tongue. You closed your eyes and let him explore you, the thought of another body part going in there sending a pool of liquid between your legs.

"You're so flustered," Homelander teased, the hand on your ass roaming down to your bare legs. Of course you had worn a skirt today, and his gloves against your inner thighs made you shudder. He took his finger away from your desperate mouth so you could answer.

"It's um," you stopped, your voice quiet. "I haven't um... nobody has... not in a long time..."

Homelander only chuckled. "You like your vibrator a lot, I know. I've seen you."

Your eyes widened in embarrassment, unsure where he could have possibly seen you. You've never done anything at work, only in the safety of your bedroom. You hated people seeing you cum, your entire body would shake with pleasure.

"I've noticed you for a while, (Y/n). You're shy and seemingly so innocent... until your legs are in the air while you're calling your poor vibrator 'daddy'." He laughed at his own observation, and you felt humiliated tears prick your eyes. That was supposed to be private.

"Um..." You knew your entire face was red, and you were acutely aware of his hand sliding up your skirt.

"It's okay, sweet (Y/n). I'm going to show you the difference between a little toy and a god." Homelander's fingers found your underwear and gave you the slightest stroke, and you knew your body was betraying you when his face lit up. "You're soaking and I haven't even started... take off your clothes for daddy."

You froze as he took his hands off you and stepped back, clearly waiting for you to obey.

"I, um, are you sure?" You asked, confused and humilated all in the same breath.

Homelander didn't answer, he just raised his eyebrow. You began unbuttoning your shirt, but had trouble at the very first one, your fingers too sweaty to get a good hold on the button. You muttered an apology, but in an instant he was on you, and you heard the tear of fabric and the clatter of buttons against the floor.

"Oh," was all you could manage. This made him smirk, and your skirt and panties were the next to go. At least he didn't rip those, was all you could think. Finally, your bra was unclasped and discarded, and you stood there with the world's strongest hero towering over your naked body - the heels on your feet useless to help your height.

Homelander, however, didn't strip anything. He didn't even take off his gloves before he was on you again, hoisting your legs up to lay you on the table.

You didn't speak as he lowered himself to your breasts, taking one in his mouth and circling his tongue. The bud hardened in his mouth and you let out a whimper, his hand coaxing the other out. He stayed there, sucking and nipping both breasts back and forth until you felt the stickiness on your thighs.

"There she is. I don't even have to look to know you're ready to take me." Homelander returned to your breast with his mouth, but his hands dipped down between your thighs, first forcing them apart and then going right for your heat. Your eyes rolled back as he slowly made his way toward your clit, the texture on his gloves making you buck as he finally touched you.

"Oh fuck," you let a moan escape, his finger circling the edges, almost giving you what you needed. You closed your eyes and leaned back on your hands, afraid if you looked, the dream would end.

"(Y/n)."

Your eyes snapped open as he pulled his hand and mouth away.

"You will look me in the eyes while I make you cum." Homelander's voice was commanding, but the only response you could manage was a nod. To your surprise, he fell to his knees, his breath so close it made you shiver in pleasure. "Now beg your daddy to eat you out. Beg me to show you what nobody else can."

You hesitated only for a second, but the breath alone was enough to drive you into delirium. "Please, daddy, please please please put your tongue on my clit daddy please," your voice was pitiful as you begged him to please you. You would do anything just for one flick of his tongue.

That was all the encouragement he needed to dive in, the saliva on his tongue mixing with your wetness. In only a second you realized this was nothing like what a man could do. No human could lick in the quick, decisive pattern he did, not up and down but across, followed with circles that made you cry out for your daddy to keep going.

You had never come from head before. It took you too long, men got tired before you could even get close to finishing. But in two minutes flat, Homelander licked you to the edge. Your eyes watered in pure delight, the sounds coming from your throat more animal than human.

But what drove you over was when his finger slid inside you, the thickness of the textured glove hitting the spot inside as well as his relentless tongue. He didn't need to breathe or stop or do anything only make you cum.

And fuck did you cum. You were pretty sure the entire tower heard your screams, your hands tearing into Homelander's perfect hair, a pitiful attempt to hold him in place as he licked and touched you through the most intense orgasm you had ever had. You met his eyes as you came, those beautiful blue orbs staring up at you while you came undone.

It was too much pleasure, too much at once and you tried to pull Homelander's hair to get his tongue off you. With a chuckle he stood, but continued to gently stroked your insides, even as you begged him to give you just a second.

"You better learn to take it, (Y/n). We're only getting started." His tone was husky, if you didn't know better you would have thought he wanted you just as bad as you needed him.

"D-daddy, daddy I came," you whimpered, throwing your arms over his shoulders to try and get some balance. His free hand held your waist, keeping you upright on the table while his other kept fucking you, not caring that you needed a break.

"Oh I know my little girl. Now you're gonna do it again." Homelander forced another finger inside, the sudden entrance making you gasp. It only hurt for a moment while you adjusted, and you knew he was trying to stretch you out for... whatever was between his legs.

When his thumb began massaging your already sensitive clit, it didn't take long for another orgasm to build. You felt yourself grinding against his hand, begging him for more, begging him to lick you again. But Homelander would only use his hand this time, drawing out your orgasm as he watched your facial expressions.

"No, daddy, I'm gonna-" you cried out as you got closer again, and this time he lifted you off the table with one arm and began roughly kissing you. You could barely kiss back as the rising tide once again took over your stomach, the need for release taking over anything else. You were in the fucking air, he was holding you up as if you were weightless and still fucking you with his other hand. It was impossible, it was something you only dreamed about.

You accidentally bit down on his lip as you came, your eyes rolling back and your entire body shuddering with the waves of pleasure.

You don't know how long you stayed there, cumming mid-air, before you finally came back to reality.

"That was a good one little girl. I think you're ready to take me now." Homelander gently flipped you around and laid you against the table, your ass on full display. You heard him unbuckle and move some fabric around, and then you felt him line up against your entrance.

You weren't ready. You had just cum twice, you couldn't handle- "OH FUCK!" That was you, you screamed out as he slowly pushed inside, your walls fighting his girth and begging you to take a break.

"Good girl, take daddy's cock. I'll do it nice and slow for you." To his credit, he pumped almost painfully slow for the first few minutes, even as you adjusted and the pressure turned to earth-shattering pleasure.

As you started to moan with each thrust, he went faster, and you swore he was going deeper and deeper. You could only let out animal-like sounds as Homelander fucked you, his hands so tight on your hips you were sure he would leave bruises. Your hands gripped the table as he went in and out, and in and out, and in and out.

You couldn't breathe, you couldn't think, you could only lie there and take it as your body was torn apart by his violent fucking.

He reached one hand around your front and began toying with your sensitive clit, the added stimulation making you cum on his dick almost instantly. You felt yourself tighten around him, and you heard him gently talk you through your orgasm, but he only sped up as he got closer to his. You needed a break, your body felt like jello and you didn't even know what was happening anymore - and then suddenly, he pulled out, and you felt thick liquid spread all over your back and ass.

"Good girl, you're daddy's good girl," Homelander managed to get out as he came on you, clearly in another world himself.

You were too stunned to move, too tired to do anything but sink to the floor as his hands stopped supporting you.

A few minutes must have gone by before Homelander patted your hair. "I'll come to your apartment tonight. I'm sending Ashley in to clean you up and get you a change of clothes." There was a pause before he finished. "But don't forget you belong to me now."

And so he walked out, leaving you naked and shaking and alone on the floor of a very public meeting room.

[hier--soir]

one last time

pairing: abby anderson x WLF f!reader, set within tlou pt II timeline summary: when the woman you love comes crawling back in the middle of the night, can you convince her to stay? warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] mainly angst, mentions of death, established past relationship, wlw, includes mentions of seraphites and wlf from tlou2, contains spoilers and plot points from the last of us part II game below the cut, mentions multiple canon deaths from the second game so beware if you don't want the game/potential future show plot points spoiled. word count: 2k

There was someone in your room. It was the middle of the night, and you’d woken with a start, acutely aware of a shuffling sound, as someone closed the door and stepped into your space.

Slowly, trying not to make a sound, you slid your hand underneath your pillow and gripped the hilt of the dagger you kept there. Your heart raced, blood roaring in your ears as they strained to listen for any sign of the intruder getting closer to the bed where you laid. The living quarters were so small though, and with the door only a metre or two from your bed, you knew it was a matter of seconds before they were on you. Sliding the knife out from under the pillow, you tightened your shoulders and prepared to leap out of bed, until a soft voice spoke your name in the darkness.

Your eyes shot open, and you strained to see her through the black void. But you’d know that voice anywhere. You heard her say your name every night in your dreams, and woke up every morning to the crushing reality that it hadn’t been real. That it would never be real again. But that voice… it was undeniably her.

“Abby?” you breathed, sitting up warily.

You fumbled for the lamp beside your bed and tugged the string quickly, soft yellow light flaring around you. And there she was. That all too familiar angular face and strong arms. Long braid hanging over her shoulder, just the way you remembered. Dirt coated her skin, clothes damp from the downpour of rain that you could hear raging outside your window. Cuts and bruises littered her face, harsh scrapes marring the skin that you loved so dearly.

It had been months since you’d last seen her; since the group of them had headed off to Wyoming to find… him. And she’d been back at the base since, but you’d avoided her like the plague. Couldn’t bear to see her, after the way things had been left between the two of you. And then a few days ago, she was gone again. It was all anyone could talk about; how Abby Anderson had fled the base and was out searching for Owen… how they were both traitors to the cause.

Her blue eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, and your heart panged with nervousness. She didn’t dare say another word, gaze trained on the knife you still held in your grasp, pointed out in her direction.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked warily, feeling your hand begin to shake. “How did you even get inside? Fuck, Abby, Isaac has everyone looking for you, he… he’s saying you’re a deserter.”

Abby shook her head slowly, face slack with an expression of hopelessness. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go.”

With an ache in your chest, you lowered the weapon, knowing you could never bring yourself to use it on her anyway. Her shoulders relaxed, and she shrugged off her pack. It hit the ground with a sharp clatter, and you noticed a bloodied axe clipped to the side of it. She slumped down on the edge of your bed, and the frame creaked with the added weight.

“He interrogated me, you know,” you shuddered. “After you went after Owen. Was convinced I was a part of it, that I kne-“

“Isaac is gone,” she interrupted quickly, not meeting your gaze.  

You stared, eyes widening a fraction, and slowly asked, “What the fuck happened?”

“Owen and Mel too,” she said hoarsely, staring down her at her hands. “They’re… I found them, in the aquarium. Both of them... she killed them.”

All the breath in your lungs rushed out, leaving you lightheaded. “W-what?” you stuttered. No.

“It’s her,” she ground out, eyebrows pinched together. “She knows who we are and she’s… she’s fucking picking us off, one by one.”

Shaking your head desperately you rubbed a knuckle into the corner of your eye, willing the brimming tears to dry as you absorbed all the information. You knew this would happen. You fucking knew there would be consequences, and yet she didn’t listen. She never fucking listened.

“Who are you talking about?”

“The girl,” she chuckled mirthlessly. “The girl that was with the smuggler. And his brother.”

It felt like the walls were closing in on you as you stared at her. The woman you’d loved for so long, who’s bed you’d once shared, who you’d held while she told you stories of her late father. The women who’d chosen revenge over a life with you... just to come crawling back in the middle of the night.

“What are you doing here?” you repeated, voice shaky and thick with emotion. “Why did you come back?”

“I needed to see you,” she whispered, finally glancing over to you. Her eyes shone brightly in the dim light of your room, and you could see the tears that stained her cheeks, the tracks they’d left through the dirt on her skin. “Things are bad, and I don’t… I don’t know if I’m gonna make it through this. I needed to see you, just one last time.”

“Abby,” you choked out, pushing forward to rest on your knees, hands hovering over her face as you contemplated touching her. You knew that if you touched her, all the progress you’d made, all the efforts you’d gone to in order to try and get over her, would be out the window. “Please,” you breathed heavily, shoulders shaking. She leaned forward so her cheek brushed your fingers and your face crumpled, allowing your hands to rest on her face, thumbs brushing along her skin.

“Please don’t do this, I can’t fucking do this again. I told you,” your voice cracked, thumb pausing on her freckled cheekbone. “I fucking told you nothing good would come from going after him. But you couldn’t just…”

“I’m sorry,” her eyes screamed in earnest. “I can’t… I couldn’t keep going without coming back here to say that. You were right, and I’m sorry, but there’s no turning back now. There’s no undoing this. She knows who I am, and she’s coming for me, but… but I’m gonna find her first, and I’m gonna make her pay for what she did to them.”

“How?” your eyebrows raised incredulously. “Abby, you’re alone, you can’t-“

“I’m not alone,” she said coldly, and you froze, staring at her in confusion.

“Abby,” you said quietly, shaking your head. Your hands dropped from her face. “You can’t be serious… it-it’s true? They said Owen killed Danny to save one of them…. are you with the Scars?”

“No,” she sighed in frustration. “He’s not a Scar anymore, he- he saved my life, and I trust him.”

“I can’t hear this,” you frowned deeply, lip curling up at her words. “You know I never wanted any part in this. If they find out you were here, they’ll lock me up, they’ll fucking interrogate me for information, Abby, I’ll lose my position. Don’t tell me anything else.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she replied quickly, reaching up to rub her shoulder. She massaged the muscle firmly, fingertips dragging across her skin in a circular motion as she cringed.

“You’re hurt,” you murmured grimly.

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head. “I fell in Wyoming.”

“You’re a shit liar,” you grunted, nudging her thigh with your foot. She grabbed it, quick as a snake, her fingers curling around the arch of it and holding it to her thigh. Your face softened, and you frowned gently at her.

“I’ll go,” she whispered, meeting your eye. “I just… I wanted to be with you, just for a minute. Needed to see you. I couldn’t leave things the way they were; couldn’t have the last time I saw you be that.”

That day, weeks before, flashed through your mind. The two of you, in the very same room, glaring at each other.

 “If you go, this is over,” you’d told her. “I mean it Abby, don’t fucking do this. Nothing good will come from it. It won’t bring him back.”

“I’m going,” she’d shouted. “And they’re coming with me. Owen, Manny, all of them. They want what I want. And I thought you wanted it too.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” you’d said. “I’m not going. Why can't this be enough for you? To stay here, with me, and just forget about him?”

Wiping a tear from your cheek, you nodded slowly, leaning in so your shoulder rested against hers.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured softly. You didn’t stop her as she leaned in, resting her forehead against yours, and tilted her chin up so your lips brushed. Shaky breaths escaped your mouths, mingling in the air between your faces. Not for a long time had either of you been nervous around one another. So unsure, so hesitant… Pushing the thoughts aside, you kissed her firmly, ignoring the way your heart cracked as the familiar taste of her hit your lips. “I’m sorry,” you repeated against her mouth, and she whimpered, gripping your face gently. You despised the way your body reacted to such a small touch from her; the way your shirt was suddenly too tight around your torso, the way your underwear suffocated the warmth between your thighs. She was intoxicating, overriding every rational thought in your mind until all you could think was Abby, Abby, Abby.  

You fell backwards onto the bed, pulling her down with you, until her warm heavy weight rested against your chest. Her knee worked its way in between your thighs, pressing you down into the mattress. You clutched at her back, kissing her desperately, face still wet with tears. Her lips pressed longingly to yours, soft pants escaping her mouth as she pushed your head deeper into the pillows, holding you down and stealing the breath from your lungs. Your head was swimming, and you shivered at the feeling of her wet clothes dragging along your skin. She pulled back from the kiss with a gasp, tucking her face into your neck as she caught her breath. A soft kiss pressed against your pulse point and you sighed, closing your eyes and relaxing into her touch. She whispered something against your skin, but you couldn’t make out the words.

The sound of rain battering against the window filled the space with white noise as the pair of you laid in your small bed, limbs tangled together. Abby’s fingers stroked your cheek softly, and she pulled back to look at you, eyes watching you so intensely you could’ve sworn she was trying to memorise your features.

After a few moments, a soft sigh escaped her lips. “I have to go,” she whispered, eyebrows furrowing, and the crack through the middle of your heart deepened. She saw the look on your face and gave you a forlorn smile. “It took me half a day to get here,” she admitted sullenly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

You watched as she rose, stretching out her shoulder again before reaching down to grab her pack. She towered over the bed as she looked down at you one last time. Fat, hot tears brimmed on your lower eyelashes as you watched her turn toward the door.  

“Please,” you whispered to her back in the dim light, seeing her shoulders tense, head turning a fraction to glance at you from the corner of her eye. “Stay. We can figure this out, I… I’ll convince them to let you stay. Just please, don’t leave me again. Don’t do this.”

“I have to see this through,” she said quietly, in a tone that left no room for argument. Tears dripped down your face and onto your pillow, leaving wet patches in their wake. You made no effort to wipe them away as you nodded despondently.

“I love you,” you cried hopelessly. “Please.”

“I love you too,” she rasped, and you knew from the finality in her voice that this was it. The last time you’d see her. You could feel it in your bones; the undeniable truth of the moment.

“May your survival be long,” you choked out, shoulders shaking against your bed as you fought against the sob rising in your throat.

Abby’s hand gripped the doorknob, and she turned to look at you one last time. Her eyes raked over your body, and she offered one small, sad smile before she stepped into the hall.

“May my death be swift.”  

[nalyra-dreaming]

I’m a long- time reader of the VC - read the first 4 books in 1994 at the ripe old age of 12 and then eagerly kept up after that. I did the message boards thing and the live journal thing as a teen and young adult. I’ve been in this fandom a long time, and it’s interesting to see how show-only viewers see things.

One thing I’ve enjoyed with the show are the little ripple effects of the changes they’ve made to the time period, and to some of the characters races, ages, and origins. For the most part I’m in love with how these changes enrich and expand the story, lending new thematic weight to different aspects of the story.

I am having trouble processing the implications of one change, though, and wonder at your thoughts. One impact of changing Claudia’s age and origins is that her death no longer truly feels inevitable or necessary. Claudia of the books is trapped in a five year old’s body with a five year old’s cognitive development. No matter how long she lives or what that changes within her, she can never be free and independent. I think the core tragedy of Claudia is this inevitability. She must die. Lestat and Louis fail her by extending her life and rendering her into this unnatural, helpless creature of unquenchable appetites. Her death is tragic but also a mercy. It makes sense when you consider the loss Claudia’s character was born from. I think Anne wrote her the way she did as a way of letting go of her daughter. She wrote a story where eternal life as a child was a misery to be released from. Claudia’s end is tragic but also merciful. I have a five year old son; I would not want such endless suffering for him.

But Claudia in the show absolutely can survive and find fulfillment and meaning. We see that with the glimpses of her short life with Madeline. Even if they eventually parted ways, she could absolutely continue on. The audience feels this even more acutely because both Bailey and Delaney look like grown women. It’s hard to suspend disbelief enough to see them as young enough to be doomed. This fundamentally changes what Claudia’s story means. It ripples onto all the other characters as well. The way we read them and their arcs and involvement is deeply impacted by the implications that Claudia didn’t have to die. It changes the nature of the tragedy, and though I think her character has provided interesting insights into womanhood and growing up, I don’t know that this thematic change benefits the overall story. Still processing it, but feeling rather divided. And I can feel the new, show-only fan discourse barreling towards us like a boulder speeding down a hill.

Hmmm. So I get what you mean (also high-fives you, I'm a handful of years ahead but also went through all the "old fandom" stuff.)

Claudia's tragedy ... is changed, true. But she is still failed. By everyone who was supposed to take care of her. Her mother died, her father failed her, her auntie, too. Her "adopted" fathers failed her, too, though not really for lack of trying, but for the simple reason that they used her - they wanted her as something to bind them together, and she simply could not be that. The other vampires fail her, both in malicious and also pitiful ways. Armand - as the leader of the Parisian coven - should have protected her, after she joined.

They all fail her. Because Louis and Lestat, and Armand (and Santiago and the coven)... use her.

And I feel that the tragedy of her life is made all the clearer here, because she never stood a chance.

She found her "x", she found a way out, on her own devices, despite everything.

But she is pulled back, and used again, for a mock trial, a mock purpose. (Another parallel to Lestat here, who is also used throughout the chronicles.)

I would not want book!Claudia's fate for my child either. I can understand why Anne had to change the original book fate (which was her getting away!) to the one we have now. I get it.

But the show added more possibility to Claudia's fate. More... opportunity. In theory.

But she was never able to really take that opportunity, because she was locked into her existence by them. Not only into a teenage body, but also into the vampiric existence.

As soon as she gets away... there are machinations to pull her back. Literally in s1. More subtle in s2.

She cannot get away... because others use her - again.

Personally, I find that even more bitter.

[starlessea2]

Wild-flower [Astarion]

Chapter 1 - Little Flower

Summary: “Once upon a time, you would have led me to that crypt—and not some pretty clearing in the forest.” His brows knitted with guilt. The laugh lines she's grown to love fall into a frown. “For what it’s worth. I thank the gods every night that they didn’t let me have you.” - Jessamine’s too trusting. If wild, blind naivety was a race, she would win it. Astarion’s a close second, only because he can’t help but follow her. A/N This is the start of a multi-chaptered fluff fest I've been mapping out for quite some time. The next part will likely come within the next day or so. Masterlist

Despite the wine haze she’d found herself in, Jessamine’s certain of one thing. He’s watching her. 

She glances back at the door where he lingers, propped with his arms crossed at his chest. He doesn’t belong here; he's far too clean. Far too handsome. But he’d caught her eye when she came down from the upper dorms, and she likewise hadn’t left his sight since. 

So instead of heading out like she ought to, Jessamine instead settled in at the Flophouse bar, glass of wine in hand—which had been mead before she discovered how utterly foul it tasted. 

Jessamine’s on her third glass by the time the silver-haired man makes his move. “Very rare one stumbles upon a wood elf in the heart of Baldur’s Gate,” he announces. “You’re a long way from home, little flower.” 

His words barely register. Through Jessamine’s bleary eyes, she finds the man. An elf, like herself, though more moon-like than forest-coated. His skin is paler than hers, and his eyes, much darker. Her breath catches; she really ought to reply.

“How could you tell?”

The man grins. He takes to the barstool beside her, as though her question had been an invitation. “I can smell it on you. The earth, that honeyed sweetness…” His hand raises and strokes the air between them. “You wear it well, my dear.” 

Jessamine’s lips part; she was being hit on. 

It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise at her age. Yet, she wasn’t quite used to such direct attentions, either. Not without her sisters as buffers, or her father’s influence in the back of everyone’s minds. Something stirs inside of her.

“I— umm. I’m flattered,” she manages.

There’s a chuckle, and her gaze finds the bar.

Neither one of them speak for some time. Jessamine’s mind struggles to make sense of the nightly buzz: the bard tunes, the chatter, the clamour on the streets outside. It’s all a world away from the quiet birdsong she’d grown up with.

She feels the man’s breath on her neck. “So enlighten me…” he eventually says, “how did a creature as radiant as yourself end up in Fraygo’s Flophouse? Doesn’t your kind prefer frolicking about in a forest somewhere?”

The compliments seep right into Jessamine’s skin. He has her cornered. She’s acutely aware of their knees, ever-so-slightly touching, and his fingers, deftly circling his glass. In the span of a few minutes, he’d made her feel so nervous, so—inexperienced? 

Feeling his eyes on her, Jessamine musters every ounce of liquid courage to beckon him closer. And as he leans forward, she whispers through his hair, “It’s a secret.”

The man’s brow quirks. “Oh?” When she doesn’t elaborate, his eyes run over her, searching for any hint of a clue. By the time they return to her face, it’s burning. “I’m good with secrets,” he says back.  

Jessamine’s heart pounds. This is dangerous, she thinks. All alone, away from home—and she’s never had this much wine in one sitting. 

“Won’t you indulge me?” the man presses. “Let me guess, you've come seeking adventure... A scandalous affair, perhaps?” He pauses to gauge her reaction. "Or maybe, family disagreement?” 

Jessamine falters; he catches it immediately.

“Hmm, yes. How I relate to that! They made you feel stifled—trapped.” He takes a moment, fingertips ghosting over Jessamine’s flushed skin. “And what better place to seek freedom than the city proper. The one and only, Baldur’s Gate.”

Jessamine shudders.

“My, my, what a sweet thing you are.”

He edges closer. Jessamine loses herself in the contours of his face: his sharp jaw, sly smile, and the faint laugh lines bookending it. She barely notices when his thumb brushes against her ear, tucking fine wisps of hair behind it. 

The smallest of sighs escapes her. With not a single thought between her eyes, Jessamine leans into his touch. “Fresh as a daisy,” he whispers, “just waiting to be picked—” 

A damp rag slaps the bar between them; Jessamine jumps a mile.

“That’s enough of that, boy,” warns a man's voice. “I know your kind and the young miss ‘ere don’t deserve to be used by the likes of you.” 

Jessamine straightens in her seat. “Dashkent—” she sputters at the innkeep.

His expression is hard.

Despite his stature, Jessamine thinks the halfling is more intimidating than most men twice his size. And at this moment, there’s something fierce radiating from him.

Jessamine averts her eyes. She was undeserving of his worry. It was only by chance she'd been there to put out a fire in his storeroom a few days back. But since then, her lodgings had been free of charge, and she was no longer bothered by men in the dorms.

She barely knew him, yet as Dashkent looks down his nose at her companion, Jessamine's reminded of an overprotective uncle.

“Jessa,” he says, wringing out the rag in his hands, “keep yer wits about you with this one, a’right?” He shoots a look at the pale elf. “You’re too kind ‘a girl for someone like him.”

Harsh, Jessamine thinks. Yet a glance toward the man in question makes her second-guess herself.

Dashkent dismissed her before she has chance to think on it. “Off with ya now,” he says. “Go swig some water an’ get some rest, Jessa. Your next show’s tomorrow.”

Jessamine cringes at the reminder. She can only nod as the innkeep disappears into the back room. And with him gone, it becomes apparent. Whatever had been building between her and the other elf had been struck dead. She’s once again aware of her surroundings: the Flophouse and its drunkards (of which she's sorely included).  

Somehow, she almost feels as though she’s been trancing.  

A cough prompts Jessamine’s flight response. “I'm sorry about him,” she says; I should go, she thinks. But as she wobbles out of her stool, there’s a hand to steady her. 

“No need to run off, my sweet. I’m not scared away so easily.”

Something about the nickname stops Jessamine in her tracks. It disarms her enough that she doesn’t notice that she's being guided away from the bar. Her escort leads her to the Flophouse staircase, where she somehow finds courage to ask him his plans for the next day.

“If you've nothing to do, won’t you come to the Blushing Mermaid? I'll be performing there tomorrow night.” When he doesn't reply, Jessamine's heart quickens. “Only if you like—” she pauses.

She doesn’t even know his name.

“Astarion,” says the elf.

“Astarion,” she repeats. It's a pretty name, and it sounds pretty when she says it. “Tomorrow, then?” 

“Tomorrow,” he confirms, with a flash of teeth.

And Jessamine’s elated. 

They exchange goodnights, and promises to meet again. But as Jessamine returns to her lodgings with a new name on her tongue, it doesn’t register that she'd never given hers.

-

next chapter >

[jellyfitzjelly]

Zevlor x Tav

Like after the main ending fight and everyone is is headed back to camp ..

Tav is at the back of the group and Zevlor is rushing up seeing the group of heros but not spotting her at first so he shouts her name and she looks up and they go toward each other and the group makes room and they reunited.

I apologize if it's already been done or if I messed up

Don't worry anon! Your prompt is 100% alright. :) Even if it's already done, you can do so much variation hehe. Hope you enjoy it! I really enjoy writing from Zevlor's POV. Written while listening to Newjeans' new song Right Now. Check it out it's good! [READ ON AO3]

They did it. They did it! Baldur's Gate was safe. Zevlor was so overjoyed that, for a minute, he didn't think about Tav. Everyone was congratulating each other. As they headed to camp, Zevlor came over, starting to panick as he couldn't see Tav. Last he had seen her, she had been near a blast of energy.

His heart dropped.

"Tav?" he shouted. "Tav! Tav!"

He strode over, joining the other and immerging himself in the little sea of people, calling for her over the joyful, loud chatter. By the nine Hells, had she...? No, she couldn't. Zevlor couldn't go through any more heartbreak. She was the only reason he had an oath again. She couldn't die. Please, Helm–

"Zevlor!"

The old Hellrider's heart raced. He cut through the group, following the voice.

"Tav? Tav!"

Finally he saw her. His heart took over. He ran toward her, joy overwhelming him. She mirrored him, laughing with delight. They all but collided as he caught her in his arms and whirled around. In the spin of happiness and joy, Tav crashed her lips against his.

For the time since Eltured had been dragged to Hell, Zevlor was living again.

"Get a room!" Karlach yelled, laughing.

Suddenly acutely aware of their audience, Zevlor let Tav down, embarrassed. She squeezed his hand, smiling widely as everyone cheered.

"Let's go to camp," she told him.

He nodded, heart bursting with happiness.