#YA….i love it but I think there are like limits on what it can deal with

[francesderwent]

can’t explain why but good children’s fantasy is usually closer in essence to good adult fantasy than good YA fantasy is to good adult fantasy. the best children’s fantasy reads like the best adult fantasy, and vice versa.

[love-bitesx]

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

[pedge-page]

What about Joel having to spend a night away for work last minute and reader sulking about it when he gets home and blanking him? 🤣 Cue grovelling from Joel lol

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Late From Work

Notes: I must be too yeehaw American because I had to look up what "blanking" someone meant 😂. Anyway, I had so much fun writing this! Decided to make him late rather than spending a whole night away because lets be real, she'd be serving divorce papers for that.

Warnings: brief oral (f receiving) scene; jealous!Reader, Stubborn reader is BACK

18+ ONLY:

- - - -

He knows he fucked up too. Big time. 

When he said he’d be home at the latest by 7:00pm and it’s now 7:02 and he’s just getting in the truck leaving the site. And when his call goes to voicemail for the 3rd time, and then the fourth time tells him that the number is no longer valid (he’s been blocked), he knows he’s in Big-Fucking-Trouble.

Doesn’t want to call Tommy up for help to coax partially because he wants to fix this own his own, and partially to save Tommy from your wrath you most certainly will take out on him rather than your absent husband.

He grabbed a bouquet of flowers at the grocery store (he’s already in the doghouse so what’s another 5 minutes added to his sentence) and is currently speeding home, a solid 15mph over the limit. Tonight isn’t even anything special: you had both just come back from a lovely weekend trip on the coast and were just settling back in to your house. But when Joel doesn’t deliver on his word, isn’t home for pizza and Pepsi, and sitting behind you while rubbings your back and belly for a quiet movie night…

Well, he’s never been late since the start of your pregnancy. Doesn’t want to think what hellfire you’re going to spit at him the moment he walks in that door.

So here he is about to walk in that door. He takes a big breath, not feeling this anxious since the he proposed to you, and steps in.

He immediately makes contact with you: standing at the end of the hall, illuminated by the kitchen light with your extra extra large T shirt stretched over your belly and dangling loosely around your thighs, hands by your side, barefoot, despite how often he nags at you to wear socks around the house so your feet don’t get cold. He’s thankful to see you hadn’t packed a suitcase, trying to leave the house with a “my husband doesn’t love me” stunt again. 

You clearly had just been walking past when you heard the door, not even fully turning to him but just having your head directed to the entrance the second he walked in. You briefly note the flowers in his hands before your eyes quickly go back to his. He feints an apologetic smile, heart beating so hard. You’re soooo quiet. The calm before the storm.

He gulps hard. 

Instead, you turn forward once more and continue walking towards the living room without a word.

You have a hand on your back as you gently collapse onto the couch. 

“Baby,” he says meekly, voice all tiny yet determined.

You pull your legs up over a pillow and fold open your book.

He comes to kneel beside you, immediately kissing your shoulder.

You do nothing. 

“Baby,” he says more clearly. “I’m sorry, honey. I couldn’t beat the time.”

You flip a page, tilting your head to read the fascinating text on the page rather than listen to your poor husband on his knees for you.

His fights with the sleeve of your shirt. Would you at least look at him? He’s holding the flowers still in his hand, big puppy dog eyes trying their best to plea with you, and with his irresistible pouty lips that get him just about anything he wanted from you. But you only lend him a sigh, flipping yet another page.

So it’s gonna be like that.

"Please, angel. I was tryin' so hard to leave on time like I said. They got the concrete all mixed up and it needed to be set today, was tryin' to get out of there, just couldn't get it moving fast enough, I'm sorry baby I really sped over here fast I can to see ya, couldn't wait a second longer—"

“Oh!” You gasp suddenly.

He’s started, but nonetheless quick to be by you.

You check the clock on the wall and laugh. Time had gotten away from you too. You slam your book and hoist yourself up, on the other end of the couch to avoid his anxious hands fluttering to your aid. You brush past him and start your climb up the stairs.

Joel is right behind you, a bit of hope stirring in him. Its not until you’re walking through your bedroom door—and slamming it right in his face that he gets the message loud and clear.

Perhaps he earned a night on the couch to pray your forgiveness. After finding a suitable vase for the roses, he puffs up his pillow, his back killing him (though he’d never say it aloud while you’re waddling around with a whole 'nother being in your belly for the last few months) and crashes down on the sofa.

He just makes out the light go off under the door in the bedroom before he too is closing his eyes.

Tomorrow brings a new day, and he’s gonna spend every second satisfying his wife. He’s deserves his stay on the couch tonight.

-

He did NOT deserve this bullshit.

It’s been 3 fucking days since he came home late.

3 days of waking up early, trying to kiss his beautiful wife and baby momma with sweet affirmations and praises, which you dodge and continue about your stubborn ignoring-test. He spent all morning cooking every single food you’d craved since your pregnancy started—waffles, French toast, cinnamon pancakes, toast with special mixed fruit jam you can only get at a grocery store an hour away, scrambled, over easy, poached, hard boiled eggs. All arranged so beautifully on the table, even going as far to put the napkins on the left, after you screeched at him a few months ago for haphazardly having them on either the right or left, and never with the fork consistently on top.

He thought he’d learned his lesson, thought he made more than enough up to you, but no. You breeze right by, making a cup of tea, and go back upstairs to your closed door.

Your sadistic mind had given him false hope when you hadn’t locked the door on him on night number two. He slept in his bed, but you had made a clear parry by slotting between the two of you the infernal pregnancy pillow that Joel had kept in storage since you “Much preferred your husband’s plushy belly and soothing rubs.” 

Fat chance tonight.

Every minute he wasn’t telling you how beautiful you are, how amazing you are, how lucky he is, he spends groveling with please forgive me, I’m so sorry, I’m such a worm.

None of it sways you any differently. 

By day 4, he’s given up the sweet talk and grand gestures. Goes for a “think like her” kind of mental approach. 

He tries to bribe you—either making you a Pepsi float, or even bringing home the famous Hot Fudge Cookie Dough Chocolate Gooey Fantasy Milkshake with EXTRA Rainbow sprinkles. But even as he temptingly waves in front of your little wiggly nose, you don’t acknowledge him.

He makes a big show to sigh heavily in defeat, leaving it on the kitchen table alone and trotting helplessly upstairs for a shower.

Less than 7 minutes later he’s come back down to see if you’d given in yet, maybe even telling him what a fantastic husband he is while shoveling your face with ice cream and admitting you were being dramatic. 

Instead, you’re still sitting on the couch, exactly as he left you. Of course, the milkshake cup is completely empty, sucked clean of its gooeyness, and there’s a little splotch of chocolate sauce lingering on your chin you had failed to wipe clean. 

A start, he thinks.

Still though, you don’t pay him any mind, scrolling on your phone with tight lips.  

He wonders how long you could go on with this game.  

It’s honestly a fucking terrible miracle—not even since before you were pregnant had you gone this long shutting the fuck up. But now its horrifyingly eerie, like a curse has fallen upon him and he’s doing everything he can to break it, to bring back your nagging and bitching and whining and crying because it would be so much more relaxing than this new kind of psychotic hell you’ve subjected him to.

He starts getting a little more involved: playing with your body, touching you softly with gentle strokes along your thighs and belly. You hadn’t flinched away, or tried moving to another spot on the couch. 

Which confirmed one thing to him: your horniness and lack of physical attention from your husband due to your stubborn mind was losing your mental battle to hold out against him.

So Joel doesn’t say anything either as he moves his lips over your breasts, down your swollen belly and kissing his babygirl in your bump. He mumbles, “Mommy is awfully mad at Daddy, think I can cheer her up?” 

The baby kicks as if in agreement. His gaze glances up briefly to see if you’re listening.

Your eyes catch and yours quickly dart away, leaning back and pretending to yawn. He snickers before continuing his hot trail of open mouthed kisses until your legs “shift” and “accidentally” part on their own.

He makes sweet, insatiable yet slow love to your pussy, licking a fat strip from your little clenched hole to that hot delicious center that is beyond wet for him—yet another example of how much your body clearly can’t ignore him forever.

But, ever as he brings you to a long needed orgasm, you bite your tongue, absolutely refusing to give him even the slightest sound of satisfaction despite clenching tightly around his thick digits pumping into you. Only letting out a strangled breath through your nose while you stare up to the ceiling, fingers folded across your tummy as if bored. 

He wipes away the slick from his mustache. Hell, even he can admit you deserve an applaud for making it through that without uttering a peep to his skills.

Hurts like hell on the inside though that you’re just that mad still.

He had hoped that being forced to drive with him due to your size preventing you from sitting behind the wheel would corner you into talking him, but even then, as he opens the passenger door for you, you climb aboard and slam the door shut without his assistance.

Now the two of you are on your way to yours and Maria’s weekend brunch. Tommy was also coming to drop his girlfriend off, so it would be a good time to catch him up on this unqiuely-pregnant-you madness.

You snatch your purse and hop out of the car, mood going a full 180 and instantly greeting Maria with a warm hug and perky voice. The two of you sit down at a little table way aways from your idiot husband and brother in law.

Tommy nods him over to the bar and Joel grumbles over.

“She ignoring you?” His little brother asks while shelling peanuts.

“Is it that obvious?” Joel shakes his head. He can’t even leave off with Tommy because he knows you won’t answer his texts asking what time you’re done for pickup. So he’s stuck here to wait for you the entire time.

“You try going down on—“

“Yes! Yes I fucking tried.”

“She didn’t like it?”

“Oh no, she came hard. Wouldn’t even whimper for me when she was clenching her little cunt around my fingers—” he says with an aggressive whisper, his pointer and middle fingers shooting up in the air with wild eyes demonstrating the scene, “—and her little numb twitchin’ on my tongue. Didn’t even fucking moan. She’s a stubborn girl but I don’t deserve that.”

Tommy shakes his head with a chuckle. “Damn. That’s just determination right there. Gotta give it to her.”

Tommy excuses himself with a slap to the shoulder, muttering “gotta take a leak” and disappears to the bathroom.

Joel wouldn’t mind having a drink right now, but know’s he’s gotta stay sober to drive you home. A miserable, silent filled drive once again. He glanced at his watch, following each tick of the hand.

“Hi there.”

Joel almost didn’t address the voice of the woman who had gentle snuck up behind him, moving to take Tommy’s seat. She’s probably a little younger than you, a nice kind smile, inviting and warm towards a stranger. 

Joel politely smiles back with a little nod. 

She offers a sweet “thanks”, a blush creeping on her cheeks before she begins to speak: “Listen, I don’t mean to prude… but I saw you come in and ...I’m usually not so brash—but I was wondering…”

-

Meanwhile, your baby is beat boxing extra hard today in your stomach. You can’t even focus on eating your salad and keeping up with Maria’s chatter about Tommy’s nose hairs all over the vanity. 

Your baby is smart. She knows something is up. You narrow your eyes and look around, finding Joel and company at the bar— 

Except the company he is keeping is NOT Tommy but instead, a gorgeous woman tossing her hair and flashing her pearly white teeth off at your husband, who’s giving her his full attention. She’s giggling with him, taking animatedly with her hands, lingering heavy eye contact and touching his watch as if looking for an excuse to get closer.

You forget about the massive planet sized lump in your belly as you instantly stand up, nearly tipping the table and all its dishes and cutlery over. 

Maria is calling your name but you don’t have the mind to answer, striding over like a bull towards the bar.

-

“Hiiiiiiii!”

Joel and the woman both jump at the harsh shrill of an annoying, high pitched, slightly perturbed but faking a smile, voice screeching behind them—the most beautiful voice Joel’s ever heard…and had missed so dearly this week.  

The woman looks over to you, seemingly startled that you had interrupted the conversation so brazenly.

“Oh, um, hi,” she offers, blinking off your pregnant belly and abrupt appearance.

“This is Joel,” you boast, pointing the shlump of a man in front of her.

“Ah-Hello—“ she smiles again to him.

You add quickly. “He’s my husband.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m his wife.”

“Ah—I—“

“Annnnnnnnd this is our baby!” You boast, proudly rubbing over that enormous swell of your tumtum so she can see in case it wasn’t the biggest fucking thing in this room. “And… you are?” You ask sweetly.

“Um…” she takes one last glance at Joel, his apologetic shrug saying everything then at you, your hard gaze burning holes into her head. “…leaving,” she says towards you.

“Great answer. I like you :) Bye Bye now!” You wave enthusiastically with a chipper voice and a deadly smile. She nods fretfully and pops off the stool, walking away like a threatened animal.

He just chuckles, shaking his head and looking down at his hands with a grin. “Ya know, she just came over to ask where I got my watch.”

“And did you tell her your WIFE bought it?” You ask, poking your finger at his chest.

He has to hide his crooked smile. It’s the first time you’ve directly spoken to him since Monday. “Yeah, I did. She asked where ya got it, because she was looking for one just like it—for her husband.”

Your finger fidgets slightly, expression drawing a blank at the revelation turning over in your mind.

“……………………………………………....................................oh.”

He rotates his stool to face you. You’re steeping in your thoughts, the confidence faltering just slightly in your mind at the realization of how grossly you had interpreted the situation between that innocent woman and your hubby. He didn’t even care, though. All he could think about was how his heart feels 10x lighter seeing you back in your usual, bold, daring, audacious self. All of your attention on him once again.

“I’ll admit, still felt good havin’ ya come to my rescue.”

You scoff, near offended by his words. “Well duh, you’re mine.”

“That right? Even these last few days?”

Yet another bomb goes off in your head at the second realization—that you had forfeited your punishment to ignore him to the ends of the earth.

 You cross your arms defensively anyway. “Well... I…decided.”

“Mmm?”

“That…I needed a back rub. But you clearly you can’t pick up on that on your own so—now I have to verbally tell you.”

“Ah huh. Sure it wasn’t cuz you were jealous? Couldn’t stand me being interested in another woman since my own made it clear she didn’t want me no more? Because my wife decided she couldn’t be patient and wait the extra 13 minutes I was running late before punishin’ me all goddamn week?”

Oh wait—was he really only late by 13 minutes? You could have sworn it was an hour plus!

“That wasn’t 13 minutes! Do you know how to tell time? It was over an hour—“

“Did you set your clock back like I told you to the night before when we got back from the coast, into our own time zone?”

😳

- - - -

Also this is how I see reader getting ate out but trying to be nonchalaunt about it:

conveniently also my favorite shot of Pedro during a photoshoot

Permanent taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[solxamber]

Hello! I loved the absolem!reader x heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, octavinelle and pomefiore. Could you write for the rest of the dorms please?

Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Ignihyde, Diasomnia + Staff, Neige with an Absolem! reader

Part 1

Hi! thanks for the request <3 I didn't do savanaclaw the first time so I added it on here! also added stagf + neige as a bonus!

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona had seen plenty of cocky students come and go, but you? You were a different breed. With that talent of yours, you could back up your ego, which made things interesting. What wasn’t interesting, though, was your short fuse. It was amusing at first, but even Leona had his limits.

Leona glanced at you from his usual spot in the Savanaclaw lounge, reclining like he had no care in the world. The moment you started bragging about your test scores, his ear flicked, though he still didn’t open his eyes.

“You can brag all you want,” he muttered, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re too worked up over nothing.”

You crossed your arms, feeling your temper rising. “Not my fault if I’m surrounded by slackers.”

Leona yawned, finally cracking an eye open to look at you. “Keep it up, and I’ll let you burn yourself out. It’s not my problem.”

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie had a knack for reading people, and he could see your arrogance from a mile away. Not that he minded—he actually found it pretty entertaining. That is, when your temper didn’t flare up like a volcano ready to explode. Still, if it meant getting something out of it, he was more than happy to fan the flames.

Ruggie looked at you, half-amused, half-nervous, as you paced around the room, clearly fuming about something trivial. He munched on a doughnut, watching you rant.

“You’re good at what you do, I’ll give ya that,” he said between bites, “but you might wanna chill a bit before you blow a gasket.”

You shot him a glare. “Easy for you to say. You’re not trying to deal with everyone else slowing you down.”

Ruggie chuckled. “You’re funny. But hey, if you need a hand ‘relaxing,’ I could always help—for a price, of course.” He winked, but the mischievous glint in his eye made you think twice about agreeing.

Jack Howl:

Jack respected strength and dedication, and while your confidence was deserved, your attitude? Not so much. He admired your academic achievements, but the way you snapped over the smallest inconvenience made him think twice about hanging around when you were angry.

Jack sighed as you ranted about your high scores and how no one else could keep up. He respected your abilities, sure, but the cockiness? Not so much.

“You’re talented, I’ll give you that,” he said, crossing his arms. “But throwing a fit because things don’t go your way? Not cool.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You say that like it’s easy to keep your temper in check when everyone’s a step behind.”

Jack gave you a stern look. “You’re strong, but strength means keeping your cool too. Don’t forget that.”

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim had never met someone as confident as you, and to be honest, he thought it was great! He admired your drive, even if your temper sometimes sent things spiraling. He couldn’t imagine why you got so frustrated, but he was always there with a smile.

Kalim grinned brightly, utterly oblivious to your anger as you paced the Scarabia lounge, practically vibrating with annoyance over a group project. “You’re so smart! You’ll definitely figure it out!”

“I already figured it out, Kalim!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “It’s not rocket science. But your ‘teamwork’ is slowing me down.”

Jamil, standing quietly to the side, raised a brow. “Maybe you should learn to pace yourself. Some of us don’t have time to deal with tantrums.”

You shot him a glare, but Jamil’s smirk only deepened. He was no stranger to dealing with fiery personalities.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil always appreciated competence, and you were nothing if not competent. But your cockiness? That was something else entirely. He could handle Kalim’s endless enthusiasm, but your anger-fueled rants were another challenge altogether. He often found himself weighing whether to engage or let you burn yourself out.

Jamil, standing quietly to the side, raised a brow as Kalim praised your intelligence. “Maybe you should learn to pace yourself. Some of us don’t have time to deal with tantrums.”

You shot him a glare, feeling your temper rise. “Easy for you to say, Jamil. If you had to work with people who were holding you back, you’d be mad too.”

Jamil shrugged, unfazed. “I know how to deal with difficult situations. You could learn to do the same.”

Idia Shroud:

Idia had no idea how someone could be that confident without having a complete existential crisis. Your cocky attitude? It baffled him. He liked to stay in the shadows and avoid confrontation, but you? You barreled through everything with the force of an overpowered raid boss. It was both terrifying and, in some strange way, fascinating to him.

Idia adjusted his headphones, glancing sideways at you as you boasted about your latest top score. “Congrats, I guess,” he mumbled, not daring to make eye contact. “But... is it really worth bragging about? There’s always someone stronger out there, y’know. Probably a speedrunner who beat your score in half the time.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the desk with a smug grin. “You say that like it applies to me. Newsflash, I’m the best.”

Idia grimaced, shrinking into his hoodie. “Y-Yeah, sure. Just, uh, don’t get too overconfident. RNG can mess you up when you least expect it…”

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho found your confidence intriguing, though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of your temper. He admired your talent but worried about how easily your emotions flared. Despite that, he always tried to offer a cheerful, supportive presence—after all, everyone could use a little kindness, right?

Ortho floated over, his sensors blinking brightly as you sat fuming about a project gone wrong. “Don’t be upset! You’re amazing at what you do! I’m sure you’ll figure it out!”

You sighed, trying to cool your temper. “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just… if people would stop slowing me down, I’d be done by now.”

Ortho blinked, tilting his head. “Maybe you just need a little more patience? I can help you if you’d like!”

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus wasn’t easily impressed, but your intelligence had caught his attention. You were confident, perhaps too much so, but he respected strength in all forms. What puzzled him was your short temper—he couldn’t quite understand why you let such trivial matters set you off.

Malleus watched as you ranted about a project, his expression calm and thoughtful. “You have great potential,” he said slowly. “But it is a shame to see such power wasted on anger.”

You scoffed. “It’s not ‘wasted.’ Maybe if people didn’t drag me down, I wouldn’t have to get mad.”

Malleus tilted his head slightly. “Perhaps. But true strength lies in mastering both power and patience.”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia found your arrogance entertaining. After centuries of dealing with egos big and small, yours was just another to add to his collection of amusing personalities. Your temper, though? That was the real treat. He loved seeing how easily you could be pushed to your limit.

Lilia chuckled as he watched you fume over a small mishap. “My, my, you do have quite the temper, don’t you?”

You glared at him. “You think it’s funny?”

He grinned mischievously. “A little. But you know, there’s a certain charm to controlling that fire within you.”

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek respected strength and discipline, but your cockiness? That was a different matter. He found your confidence borderline insufferable, and your temper didn’t help matters. If it weren’t for your undeniable talent, he might have written you off completely.

“You’re far too arrogant for your own good!” Sebek barked, crossing his arms. “How can you expect to be taken seriously when you let your emotions control you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Says the guy who yells 24/7.”

Sebek flushed but stood firm. “My passion is not the same as your uncontrolled rage! You should learn some discipline!”

Neige LeBlanche:

Neige wasn’t used to dealing with people like you. He was all sweetness and light, while you? You came in like a thunderstorm, full of confidence and sharp edges. He admired your drive, but your brash attitude sometimes left him at a loss for words. Still, Neige being Neige, he always tried to look for the good in you.

Neige offered a tentative smile as you smirked at your latest accomplishment. “Wow, you’re really smart! I wish I could be as confident as you when it comes to classes.”

You shrugged, leaning back. “Confidence comes easy when you’re this good.”

Neige blinked, looking a bit nervous. “I’m sure it does, but… maybe you could help others? I think it would be really nice!”

Crowley

Crowley fancied himself the most charming and important person on campus, but even he was taken aback by your self-confidence. For all his dramatics, dealing with someone whose ego rivaled his own was a bit much, even for him. He often found himself making excuses to avoid your outbursts.

Crowley folded his arms, giving you a dramatic sigh. “Must you always insist on causing trouble? I have enough on my plate as it is, with running this entire school.”

You shot him a cocky grin. “Maybe if you did your job better, you wouldn’t need to worry about me showing everyone up.”

His face paled, hands waving dramatically. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that! But know this—you’ll regret underestimating me!”

Divus Crewel:

If anyone could keep you in line, it was Professor Crewel. Though your arrogance and temper often sparked during his lessons, he had a way of cracking down on any outbursts before they spiraled into chaos. He respected talent when it came to Alchemy, but your cockiness? That was a challenge he didn’t mind taming.

“Is it so hard to simply follow instructions?” Crewel’s sharp voice cut through the classroom, his cane tapping the floor in warning.

You grinned, shrugging nonchalantly. “Instructions are great and all, but I prefer my results to speak for themselves, Professor.”

He raised a brow, looking unimpressed. “The only thing speaking here is your ego. If you insist on doing things your way, be prepared to fix every mistake you make. Now, clean up that mess before I add more to your workload.”

Mozus Trein:

Professor Trein didn’t have the energy to deal with arrogance, much less tempers. He preferred a quiet classroom, where students respected knowledge without throwing tantrums over their intelligence. Yet, you were like a storm—loud, proud, and utterly impossible to ignore. He appreciated your academic prowess but wished you’d rein it in… at least for the sake of peace.

Trein sighed as you raised your hand for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “Yes, I’m aware you know the answer,” he droned. “Please refrain from shouting it out before I’ve even asked the question.”

You smirked. “Just wanted to save you the time, Professor. It’s not like anyone else would’ve gotten it.”

Lucius meowed in agreement, as if to say Trein’s headaches were mutual.

Sam:

Sam had seen all types of students pass through his shop, but someone as full of themselves as you? Well, that was a special breed. He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed by your boldness or simply wait for karma to do its thing. Either way, you were good for business, and he appreciated anyone who brought in the coin.

Sam grinned as you swaggered up to the counter. “Lookin’ for somethin’ to help with those top scores of yours?”

You shrugged. “I don’t need help, but I might as well see what you’ve got. Maybe I’ll find something that makes me even more unbeatable.”

Sam chuckled. “Careful, now. Pride comes before the fall. But hey, I’ve got just the thing for someone who thinks they’re on top.”

Masterlist

[teamred]

re: your tags - I am dying to know about your Wade’s sister!reader x Logan fic, omg that sounds so fun 👀💖

-@eupheme

omg hi j!!! @eupheme (gonna tag you in case the ask post doesn't do it)

i actually have two wade's sister!reader x logan fics in the works! i hope you don't mind me sharing both~

the one i was referring to in my tags is called "dusk till dawn".

summary: vanessa is kidnapped, so while wade runs off to save her, he assigns logan to be reader's bodyguard. however, they don't get along, but they start to fall for each other over time.

it'd be a road trip/motel hopping au with lots of banter, sharing one bed, tension, angst, and steamy moments of course 👀

i'm taking inspiration from some of the moments with logan and mariko from the wolverine (2013) movie!

i'd love to share snippets, but it's really in the draft stages right now!!

second fic i have is called "can't help myself" (title tentatitive)

summary: wade only has one rule for logan: his sister is completely off-limits. but of course, logan never plays by the rules, and you couldn't give two shits about what your dumb-ass brother says.

this one would be more of a fun fic!! just like messing with wade but also having fun with logan and lowkey falling for him too

lots of dialogue, especially with wade, smut, fluff, etc. just a vibes fic

wouldn't be as long as the other fic - i wrote quite a bit for this already! here's a snippet of the intro:

“Don't look at her,” Wade paces around his apartment’s living room, listing the things Logan, his new roommate, should avoid when he meets his sister tomorrow. “Don't breathe in her presence, don't even think about her, and especially don't—” 

“What, ya gonna tell me I can’t fuck her next?” Logan cuts in with an amused chuckle, reclining on the living room couch with a hand above his head. 

“Yes, bingo!” Wade exclaims, pointing at him excitedly. “Exactly that, you geriatric sexy vampire. Or should I technically say vampire hunter?” He pauses, wondering for a moment. 

“Anyways,” he continues, “you can have any woman you want in this new universe—hell, I’ll cry my heart out every night after my evening jerk-off seshes, but you can even have Vanessa—but my sister? We’re gonna have a repeat of the Honda Odyssey fight, Wolvie, and that won’t be a pretty sight to see.” 

“Okay,” Logan replies, getting up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll make sure to fuck your sister until she forgets the fact that she's your sister. Got it.” 

“Hey!” Wade smacks him on the back as he’s bent over, trying to grab a beer from the fridge. A low growl escapes from him. “I’m being serious here.” 

“When are you ever serious?” Logan asks, popping off the beer cap with his thumb. 

“Now! I am being serious now.” Wade’s voice rises before he takes a second to compose himself, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. Logan watches him carefully, sipping his beer. 

“Please, Logan,” he barely whispers, avoiding eye contact. 

The silence, punctuated only by Logan’s sipping, feels uncomfortable and heavy. Finally, Logan lets out a sigh.

“Fine,” he grunts. “I won’t get involved with your sister.” 

Wade breaks into a relieved smile and extends his pinky. “You promise?” 

Despite Logan rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he ends up hooking his pinky around Wade’s, sealing the deal.

Except Wade doesn’t see Logan’s other hand behind his back, with his middle and index fingers crossed over another.

[autumnheartsprice]

price who is not afraid to punish you - even better if you've been a brat with the team all day.

|spanking, humiliation, fem reader, voyering, poly!141|

you've been acting like a brat all day, whining and pouting. making a damn fool out of Price - the team sharing glances at your misbehavior, knowing Price doesn't ever tolerate brattiness from his girl.

while you were shared with the rest of the team, you still mainly belong to your Captain; dealing with your punishments (if Simon doesn't get fed up with it first) and he's who you go to when you're all desperate and needy.

Simon's jaw clenches at your reoccurring brattiness, pouting as the green beans weren't cooked to your liking. and what was Price doing to stop this? absolutely nothing. he let you keep going, not even a warning glance or a scruff on the back of your neck.

-I reckon you control your fucking brat before I do, Captain.

Price wasn't too happy receiving this text from Simon. his brat, his issue - but he knows it ruffles his feathers more than his own self. Simon tended to get more rough and intense during punishments, which led to Price taking care of them more often; better yet, if they even team up together.

it's no surprise when you're bent over the bed, hands tied behind your back and skirt being lifted up to reveal your damp panties to the rest of the team behind you. Price gives you a harsh smack with his belt, then leading to multiple hits against your soft skin. you can already hear Gaz stroking himself slowly at the sight, Soap clearly thinking about it; but Simon? staring at you with his arms crossed over his burly chest, a strict glare at the sight of you.

"Simon. You wanted 'er bent over - probably been thinkin' 'bout it all day.." Price starts, turning his gaze to meet Simon's, only for him to still be staring at your reddening ass cheeks. Price's jaw clenches, not appreciating his lack of words or even eye contact.

Price walks over to him, placing his belt into Simon's hands. "Go at 'er." He husks. Simon's eyes still don't meet Price's; "I swear you better not push her god damn limits, you hear me?" Price mumbles, scruffing the back of Simon's neck with his hand - forcing him to meet his eyes. The men see Simon's shoulder tense before finally speaking, "I hear ya."

Price gives a final warning squeeze before patting his shoulder & gesturing for him to continue.

Let's just say you weren't able to walk the next morning.

Cum drips down your thighs, probably mostly not yours. Your ass cheeks burned in the cold air of the room, your pussy swollen and red. Fat, wet tears drips down your cheeks and onto the soft bedsheet - pressing your face into the fabric to attempt to even muffle your sobs.

A soft & gentle hand runs along the small of your back, shushing your mumbled apologies - you call tell by the size and callouses that it was Price's reassuring hand.

Soap and Gaz work on washing the sheets and changing them for you, jerking off on them one last time for good measure. Price and Simon give you a bath - Simon washing your hair slowly & soothingly as Price gently massages your skin.

Simon was quiet. He usually was, and there wasn't much to be said after a moment like that. Yet, he usually sat in his thoughts, wondering if he was too rough or went too far. He lost so many loved ones, he can't lose you too.

Price always notices. Always. He puts an assuring hand on his back and a kiss on his temple, as for you, you gently run your thumb along the back of his hand, occasionally pressing soft kisses or reaching up to peck his lips.

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Great points of today’s Pearl ep (a recap of my freak-outs, some of which will be getting their own posts)-

Exclusively spoilers below this line:

Cleo asking Pearl if she’s okay and Scott offering her a life if she goes red. Pearl defending herself when Scott says she keeps making enemies.

Cleo enabling Pearl and Scott trying to stop her. The eventual agreement that she can kill Gem or Joel if negotiations don’t work.

Never did I think I’d see the day but Gem attacking Pearl and Cleo responding with “She’s not done anything to you Gem!” And defending her? My neurons are firing lads.

Scar asking Pearl if shes okay?

BigB is officially fired from the GGGG, and the world possible person (Cleo) caught him doing it.

Impulse trying to do a British woman voice and failing so hard that Cleo fails to recognize her own quote.

Pearl catching Skizz and Mumbo like vermin under their base. Mumbo trying to convince her that her teammates don’t really love her because they won’t give her a life and trying to get her to betray them so she won’t snitch that Skizz is under their base. AND SHE DOES BETRAY THEM?? HELLO?

Bonus Imp and Skizz podcast except Mumbo and Pearl are Impulse in order to keep Mumbo and Skizz’ vid from being just them sneaking.

Ren wanting to kill Grian because he’s the one causing them all their pain and recruiting Pearl, Scar, and BigB… Watcher fans come get yall juice.

JOEL ALSO ASSUMING PEARL’S TEAM DUMPED HER?? Her referring to the parrots as “the canaries” and actually getting the fast and furious reference which does automatically put her in Joel’s good graces.

Mumbo and Skizz immediately sighing after they fail to kill the people coming to visit Pearl. Pearl then getting Mumbo and Skizz to reassure her that she has been making friends and her teammates are wrong.

Scott silently leading her away and telling her that Mumbo is under their base, and Pearl pretending she had no idea anyone was there and she’s been building the whole time. Mumbo lying for her???? Hello?? Mumbo trying to offer Scott the same deal he gave Pearl and Scott refusing?

“Ya know, I have no reason to go against Scott this season. I just think it’s funny. And that’s what I do every season! I do a little fun, I have a little glee, I have a little laugh and it’s, I dunno. But if you make a bunch of allies then nobody wants to kill you right? Right.”

MOON FAST! “You go moon! Look at that cousin in the sky!”

“I knew tnt minecarts were a bad idea. That’s why I don’t touch them with a ten foot pole.” VIOLENT LIMITED LIFE FLASHBACK

Pearl wanting her team’s approval of the base! Cleo calling her very talented!

This moment:

Martyn: Come on, let red Pearl out to play!

Pearl: No, look as much as she would love to, it’s too early for red Pearl. She can stay where she is.

Gem and Pearl getting along for a brief moment to watch the boys be stupid.

Pearl telling Scott not to trust BigB and Cleo saying BigB is working with the devils… Nosey Neighbor fans weep, Pearl and Cleo duo (I don’t know their name) fans cheer

PEARL SHOOTING BIGB WHILE CLEO CHEERS HER ON!!! NOSEY NEIGHBOR FANS WEEP PEARL AND CLEO DUO FANS CHEER

Pearl shooting Martyn?? Oh she’s got blood lust now!

“I’m in me mum’s car!”

Pearl, Tango, and Bdubs just watching the chaos and refusing to cross the bridge.

No Pearl deaths!!!!

[littlemissstel]

Hi! Your Shiu pieces are so lovely - he doesn’t get enough fluff or, ya know, stories in general.

May I please request a story of him attempting to quit smoking because the woman he is into doesn’t want to date a smoker?

Feel free to ignore this, if the idea is not interesting to you 🫶🏻

Lollipops and Smoke- Shiu Kong

Helloo!! Thank you for the kind words<3

IKRR the amount (well lack of) of Shiu media is actually outrageous, he's the reason i started this blog😭Hopefully this is on par with what you were thinking of Xx

Pre-relationship, swearing, uses of the names "bastard", "minx", "Doll", "Sweetheart", "Darling", no uses of (Y/n),mentions of drug use

It is past midnight now and you were in Shiu's car as he drove you home after a long day of dealing with clients. The two of you have engaged in what seems like a thousand different conversations on the way there, but he's not quite sure how you landed in this one...

"You're really not going to tell me?"

"I'm not sure what you mean Doll. There is nothing to tell."

"Shiu. Let's be honest for a second here. There's no way you've only done cigarettes throughout your life. With the things you've told me about your youth, you had to of been high at least once."

Shiu holds in a chuckle, shaking his head with a wide smile at your deadpan expression.

The truth is you were right. He was a seasoned connoisseur in the field of substances thanks to his party days and he does conveniently forget to tell you the part were he puffed, sniffed or drank in his stories of nostalgia. When he first started out in the job, he had to entertain clients by sharing a drink/drag or two, though that was never something he found enjoyable and has since promoted out of it.

It's not that Shiu was regretful about his past experiences, no, He just wasn't proud of them either. He had great times which made for great memories but he knows what kind of impression they can give off and for someone like you- for someone he is trying to impress- he believes some memories are better left unsaid.

"I'm really not as old as you think i am. This is my youth-"

"Yeah right-"

"Enough about me. You're real fuckin' nosey you know that? What drugs have you done, Sweetheart?" He sends you a playful glare through the mirror.

"Paracetamol and Ibuprofen."

This earns a deep laugh out of Shiu, something that has become more frequent during your time with him yet you still take the moment to properly intake the resonant sound.

"I did have a boyfriend who was into a few things though. It didn't last very long."

"Was he trouble?"

"No, he was sweet, but i just don't think i could be with someone who does anything, you know..."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing. No vapes or cigs. Nothing that lingers."

What you said lingered in Shiu's mind. Long, long after the fact. He was somewhat surprised, you never seemed to have a problem when he smoked around you - then again he tried to limit the amount of times that happened. Then again he might be wrong and you just don't like him back.

But he liked you.

He liked you enough to go against his better judgement of pursuing you- no matter how selfish it may have been, and so he liked you enough to finally start his mid-year resolution to put down the cigarettes. That night he laid covert in the darkness of his bedroom, scrolling through an endless amount of forums from ex-smokers and ordering an unjustifiable amount of lollipops, gum and nicotine patches.

Shiu had always been the number one user of the saying, "I can quit when i want" and part of that was true...he could quit when he wanted. It didn't mean he wanted to struggle when he did though. His job was stressful and the only method of relaxation he could find that fit into his busy schedule was smoking. Now he just had to experiment...

Throughout the next few weeks you noticed a few changes in Shiu.

First, he seemed irritable.

Not to you- to you he was just quieter than usual- but Toji had been the one informing you that Shiu had "A stick shoved up his ass for the entire week", though this was after discussing how they were going to split the shares of his commission which meant the statement was untrustworthy.

Secondly, he was less focused and increasingly restless, which drew the most concern from you because Shiu was always well managed. It was one of the first things you learnt about him and he hasn't faltered since so when he started to zone out and tap against the steering wheel to an inconsistent beat you only became more skeptical.

But your last and final straw...was his sweet tooth.

The ravenette was a chronic enjoyer of savoury foods. You had seen him nursing a lolli' in his mouth consistently for the past few days, sure. But when a multi-pack of 300 lollipops sat discarded in the backseat of his car you knew something was up.

"What is going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's going on with you?"

His brows furrowed as he spared you a quick glance.

"What do you mean, darling? I've been fine."

"You've been acting weird...First toji says you've been irritated all week but now you've got a sweet tooth and a thousand lollipops in your backseat. I know you don't have a kid Shiu. Unless you're about to tell me you're going to kidnap one."

"I am not going to kidnap anyone."

"Then are you okay?"

The car stops at the red light and Shiu sighs weakly, meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression.

"I've quit smoking. Trying to replace it with something better. I like lollipops."

Your mouth droops into an "o" expression. Well that makes sense, you hadn't thought about it but why would you? It seems a bit abrupt, no? Most people ease out of smoking and you haven't seen him hold a cigarette in...well...a long time.

"Why- i mean, no congratulations- but- how long has it been since you stopped?"

"Three weeks give or take"

"Oh..."

The car filled with a thick silence only disturbed with the low rumbles of the engine. You're not quite sure what to say. What is there to say? He sounds pretty decided and you fully support his decision but- oh...You can't help the feeling of guilt that washes over you.

"It isn't to do with what i said is it?..." Shiu's hand grips the wheel harder for a quarter of a second as he turns to you to speak- but you noticed, and you felt your stomach twist for the second time in a minute.

"Shiu- you know i didn't mean that about you, i really didn't mean to offend-"

"-You didn't offend me doll, now calm down before you work yourself up, hm?"He says, a smirk creeping up on his face and you take his advice, settling back down in your chair waiting expectantly.

"I've been meaning to quit for a while now`, just never had a good enough reason to do it. Now i know you prefer the company of non-smokers, i finally got the motivation to."

What does that mean?

"I didn't mind your company before you know."

"Oh trust me, i know." His smirk now fully progressed as his attention undividedly turned on you. The most focused he's been in weeks. His dark hazelnut eyes bore into yours leaving you feeling exposed- so exposed. You believed him. His confidence, true or not, left little room for doubt and now you wondered what else he knew.

Don't embarrass yourself.

You leaned in, trying to keep a hold of what little control you had as he matched your stance.

"You're back to being a smug bastard aren't you."

"Never stopped."

"Then why don't you enlighten me on what else you know?"

Shiu's breath hitched before letting out a short, incredulous laugh, leaning back in his chair with his head tossed back.

"Green light, minx." He says finally.

After all, Shiu Kong believes some things are better left unsaid.

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I am open to constructive criticism but be nice because I'm sensitive asf 💀 Thank you for sending this request in, i really enjoyed it

please feel free to leave any ideas/recommendations

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi!! I just found your blog and 😭😭 you're so talented, like, what?? I def need more!!! I dunno if this is how it works, or if you're still doing the dirty asks game, but I was thinking maybe E,K,U and S (or Z!) for Johnny?

Have a lovely day!! oh, and well, happy new year 🙂‍↕️

Prompts are from this ask game and part of my ongoing list of answers! You can also find A, B, C, D, and V already answered for this boi.

Warnings for...well...they are dirty asks so be prepared for sexy and sexual content 😉 including (but not limited to) discussion of oral, somnophilia, ummmm tickling? emotional unavailability? and idk other stuff. MINORS DNI.

Happy New Year! I love ya! I appreciate you taking the time, dearie 💜 Happy reading... 😈💋

K - Kissing

So this...implies some romance that's not typical for Johnny. His kissing is less emotional and more intense and deep--but seriously, it's not an indication of his longterm interest or level of affection. (There is an exception to this which is Johnny has no problem giving hickies. He will mark. you. up. ((He can't be marked in the same way due to healing.))

HOWEVER, those small, nonchalant pecks--if Johnny ends up smooching you and it doesn't lead to sex, it wasn't in the middle of sex, or especially if there's no one around to see it,--that's THE REAL DEAL. Something utterly devoted has sparked inside him if (and when) Johnny slows down to kiss you. Or slows for any reason, really.

In regards to where Johnny likes to kiss or be kissed? Again, he's not much of a kisser. He's big on touching and groping and tickling, since he's a goofball and true 'player,' i.e. Johnny is nearly always playful, but once there's a connection made with you, he...

okay, so, the thing is, he actually does like to be kissed, and the place that drives Johnny wild is above his dick, right at his adonis belt, that v-cut, the pubes. This is so ridiculously intimate/possessive/reverent; he can barely handle the conflicting drives to melt beneath or conquer you. Strange thing...he would have thought the proximity would just make him want a blowjob but instead he's a goner.

U - Underwear

Commando. Easy-Access Man. Next question.

LOL, just kidding. Mostly, Johnny wears nothing, certainly not with his Human Torch second skin. He used to wear boxers but lost too many of those to a smoldering heap. No point.

On women? Crotchless panties are his favorite, but there's this new trend of booty shorts--he's very, very into them. Generally, he would have thought anything less-is-more would be best in his eyes, but there's this kinda *pop* in the stretchy fabric when it jumps over the swell of your ass...mmhmmm IT'S GOOD.

S - Sleepy Sex

Sleepy morning? You are 100% welcome to wake him up with some head or ride his cock to your heart's content, but Johnny himself doesn't usually start stuff first thing. This goes hand in hand with him being unable to slow down much. He's all about releasing tension before bed though. A good romp to tire him out and calm the mind? Absofuckinglutely. No, he doesn't particularly care if you were already asleep. You'll thank him later. Don't worry. It's always worth your his while.

Z - Zones

Classic man. Go for his neck or his crotch. Johnny is a #basicbitch in this respect. It feeds his ego to be touched all over--duh, he's got this glorious bod, you should want to touch him,--but he has never been a fan of biting, on him or on others. Since he's just about always in the mood, it does not take a lot of foreplay to get him ready.

E - Extra Info

Unpopular opinion: I imagine that perhaps the ultimate show of love/devotion/possession to Johnny is not marriage and all that normal stuff but, instead, if you let him brand you.

He works hard and focuses to not burn people, so you allowing him permanently claim you as his--which he would not do in a casual way, not with random hookups and one-night-stands, not until he is sure that word won't get back to Sue who would kill him--shows a level of trust he didn't believe he would want much less earn.

Johnny is aware he's a ridiculous and kinda stunted man-child emotionally. He's smart enough to know that. Johnny will never stop being grateful to the woman who can stick around, see past it, and grow with him...playfully, of course. You should never stop roasting him about the man-child-ness.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (1/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it's his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The best tactic to defend yourself from a stranger? Being dressed only in a towel and having a newspaper in hand, of course.

Warnings: google translated French (I didn't put the translations in the story, but there's a reason to it! maybe you'll figure it out through the series!)

Word Count: 3.1k

series masterlist

A/N: here it is my friends! the first chapter! I'm not sure about tagging people. bad experience and stuff. I still hope you like it! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

The apartment is dead quiet when you get home. Tired, you flick on the kitchen light and toss your gym bag into your small bedroom before grabbing a wine glass from the shelf. You twist the cap off the cheap white wine sitting on the bottom shelf of the small fridge with your teeth, and spit it away. You wouldn't need the cap anymore. You would drink the bottle empty today. 

The whole last week had been unbelievably lousy. Your boss had fired you for a mistake you weren't responsible for, and even though you didn't like working there, you were on the money. 

A few months ago, you had moved to Monaco for that very job. You left your family behind. Built a new life here. Only to find yourself without a job, without opportunities, without prospects. 

You sit down on one of the two chairs at the dining table and open your laptop. Since you were kicked out, the home page of your Internet browser has been searching for suitable job offers, but you haven't found anything yet. You're glad that you've put aside enough money every month to be able to keep this apartment for a few more weeks. And after that, it's either take the next best job, no matter how underpaid it is and no matter how unhappy it would make you, or move back in with your parents.

You'd rather live under a bridge than back with your parents.

Frustrated, you close the laptop. It's hard to find a job in Monaco unless you're already a big shot or born into a good family. And as a former, small-time magazine photographer, you're neither. 

You leave the laptop and your sweaty gym clothes in the bedroom as you head to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water feels good on your skin and tense muscles. The lavender shampoo calms your senses and nerves a bit, but you can't flush that nagging lingering thought - what happens if you don't find a new job? - down the drain, unfortunately.

Ideally, you'd like to stay here, in Monaco. Why not? Life here is great and the people are so friendly that you don't even want to think about leaving it all behind. But the possibilities are limited. And time is running against you. 

You step out of the shower, wrap your hair and body in soft towels, and walk out of the bathroom. 

And just at that moment, the apartment door opens. 

"What the hell?"

The young man suddenly standing in the hallway wrenches his eyes open at your words and winces. Apparently, he wasn't expecting anyone either.

"What the heck are you doing in my apartment?" you yell at him, grabbing the nearest object you could use to defend yourself from the intruder. Unfortunately, it's just a magazine from your old job. You roll it up and point it at him.

"In your apartment?" he asks, confused, dropping the large bag hanging around his shoulder to the floor. He doesn't take his eyes off you. It's like you're the crazy one standing in his apartment all of a sudden. "What do you mean?" He raises his hands placatingly as you take a small step toward him on bare feet with the newspaper.

"Are you stupid? What don't you understand about 'my apartment'?" Your voice sounds a little shrill. You roll the newspaper up tighter in your hands. Not that you can particularly do anything about the man. Just wrapped in a towel and with that little bit of paper. Besides, he's at least a whole head taller. And definitely stronger, judging by his stature. 

The young man lowers his hand to let it disappear into his left pants pocket. You wave your arms behind your head - like Rapunzel with her frying pan. If he tried anything, you'd have enough momentum to maybe hurt him.

"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." He fishes something out of his back pocket and holds it up. Dangling from his finger is a jingling silver key. "This is my key. For my apartment. The one I bought." He enunciates each word one at a time, as if you're a child who must somehow be made to understand why two plus two does not equal five. Step by step.

You narrow your eyes. The newspaper stays in place behind your head. "I rented the apartment. A few months ago." You shift your feet apart a little to get a firmer footing. "If it really is your apartment, where have you been for the last few months?"

Confused, he looks at you as if you must know where he'd been. Then he rubs his forehead with his free hand. "Can I sit down? My day has been incredibly tiring and I'm exhausted." He takes a step toward the dining room table, where your wine glass still sits.

"If you take one more step, I'm going to scream."

He rolls his eyes, but stops anyway. "I'm too tired for this shit," he retorts, annoyed, running a hand through his brown hair. "This is my place. I don't know how you got in here or who's supposed to have rented it to you, but you pack your shit now and get out. Before I call the police."

"Why do you want to call the police? You're standing in my apartment!"

"This is not your apartment!"

Like two lions about to go for each other's throats, you stare at each other.

"You leave my apartment now before I call Joris and he throws you out," you threaten him. When he starts in with the cops, you continue with your landlord. If suddenly the cops are in your apartment, he would be informed either way. At least then you could give him a heads up if he really did call the cops. 

Apparently your words triggered something in him, because he lowers his arms and his shoulders relax a little. "Joris? Joris Trouche?"

The fact that he knows your landlord's last name unnerves you enough that you lower your arms as well. The newspaper, however, you still hold in one hand. "How do you know Joris?"

The man no longer looks annoyed, but seriously confused. "Joris is one of my closest friends," he explains. "I bought the apartment in his name. Did he rent it to you?"

Friends? Bought it in his name?

"He did. A few months ago," you answer him. You're not facing each other like lions now, but rather like two deer who don't know exactly how to act. You chew on your lower lip, undecided about what to do.

"I'll call him." As the man pulls his cell phone from his back pants pocket, you can only stare at him in disbelief. If his Joris is really your Joris - what happens next? If he bought the apartment, will you have to move out? You have a valid rental contract. Will it be terminated then? Will you have to move under the next best bridge sooner than expected? Does Monte Carlo have any bridges?

"Good evening, Joris." You didn't even notice that he had already dialed the number. He's not holding the phone to his ear, but in front of his mouth, and you can see he's activated the speaker.

"Hi, buddy. Did you have a good flight?", Joris voice actually rings out.

Your heart stops for a moment and the newspaper falls out of your hand. The man takes one look at the paper and then at your face. "I did, thanks." He licks his lower lip once with his tongue. "I just arrived at my apartment. You know, my second apartment. The one that's in your name."

On the other side of the phone, it's suspiciously quiet. As if transfixed, you stare at the cell phone in his hand, hoping it's all a big mistake. That this already shitty week isn't about to get even shittier. 

"I can explain." Fuck.

While Joris explains to his "buddy" what's going on - "I had rented out the apartment so that it wouldn't get miserably dusty. Besides, it would be completely stupid not to rent out a great apartment and let the money slip through your fingers. I couldn't have known you'd go there. I thought the apartment was only for emergencies." - you sit down at the dining table, still wrapped in your towel, and drink the rest of your wine in one go.

"C'est une urgence!" The man turns off the speaker and holds the phone to his ear. "Je ne peux pas et ne veux pas aller dans l'autre appartement! Tu sais pourquoi! Et maintenant, tu loues ma retraite sans m'en parler? Qu'est-ce que je vais faire maintenant, Joris?" His French is too fast for you to understand in the least. Judging by the wild flailing of his hand, he can't be saying anything good. He raises his hand, touches his thumb to his other fingertips, then holds it to his forehead. His face is flushed as he nags stressedly into the receiver, and you can even see the vein on his neck. "Je ne vais certainement pas à l'hôtel! Comme "pourquoi pas"? Parce que j'ai une résidence secondaire, espèce de crétin! Je peux difficilement l'expulser maintenant de l'appartment que tu lui as loué! Alors je suis le connard qui a jeté une jeune femme à la rue! Comment crois-tu que le gros titres vont suivre?"

While you understand a few words like hotel, idiot, woman - almost certainly meaning you - and headlines, your French is not so good, even after months in Monaco, that you could easily understand him.

"Je me fiche qu'elle soit sexy. Tu ne peux quand même pas laisser quelqu'un vivre dans mon appartement!" He puts his thumb and forefinger to his nose bone. "I'm really too tired for this, Joris. We'll talk tomorrow," he ends the conversation back in English and sits down in the chair across from you. He places the cell phone on the table before drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. "We'll summarize. You have a valid lease on my apartment. I have nowhere else to go. So I have to stay here. What's the plan?" He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

You stare at him. "I should put some clothes on first." Wordlessly, you get up and disappear into the bedroom before he can say anything back. You quickly change, slipping into a dark green Adidas sweater and comfortable yoga pants, and quickly comb your hair. When you leave the room, the man is no longer sitting at the table, but stands in the small kitchen and - cooks?

"I haven't eaten anything today," the man says without glancing in your direction. "And you still had some stuff in the fridge."

You reach for the wine bottle and pour some more into the glass before taking a big gulp. "And you think you could just grab my groceries and cook yourself something?" you ask snarkily. He acts like he's at home. Like this is his apartment.

Well, it is, in theory. 

"I'm making two servings. For you and for me. I'm not a monster." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye as you lean against the fridge to watch him. "Maybe we should start over. Completely new." He turns the piece of chicken in the pan. "What's your name?"

"Y/N" You tilt your head. "And you?"

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion before giving the noodles in the pot a single stir. But as suddenly as the confusion was on his face, it's gone just as quickly. "Charles."

Sharl. The French pronunciation of Charles. And you have to admit, it suits him. As he cooks, you watch him, racking your brains on how to proceed now.

The apartment is small, but living with two people in it could work. One would sleep in the bed, the other on the couch. There would have to be a bathroom plan. And a cleaning schedule. And-

"Can you pour me a drink, too, please?" asks Charles, spreading the food on two plates. He sets them on the table and pulls two forks out of a drawer. 

"What would you like? Wine?" When he nods, you take a second wine glass and pour him the last of your wine. As he sits down, you look at him skeptically. 

Charles raises his eyebrows. "What is it?"

You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "That's my seat."

"Well, there's another chair. Why don't you take that one?"

Uncertainly, you teeter from one foot to the other. You don't want to seem like a crazy person, but in the few months you've lived here, you've always sat in the same chair. You want to keep it that way.

When you don't move, he rolls his eyes, but then sits down in the chair across from you. "Better?"

His food tastes better than expected. To be honest, it tastes better than anything you've ever cooked. But you don't tell him that, of course.

"I don't know how much you overheard of my conversation with Joris" - you overheard everything, you just didn't understand anything - "but I'm afraid I have nowhere else to go. Personal reasons." He pokes at his chicken for a moment. "And I don't want to put you out on the street, either, of course. I can't at all. After all, you have a valid lease and I can't just kick you out, even if it is my apartment." He looks up from his food and looks at you. His eyes are an impossibly beautiful green.

"What do you say we live here together? Just until my situation eases up," he suggests. Before you can say anything, he continues speaking. "I know the apartment is small and there's only one bed, but if we agree on cleaning and shopping and everything, I'm sure we can work it out."

There's a sparkle in his eye. You'd like to know why he can't go to his other apartment. Why he can't go to a hotel. Why he absolutely has to go to his second apartment. But he said himself it was an emergency. And you've known each other for what? An hour? Even if you asked, he certainly wouldn't tell you. 

Private is private.

And maybe it's not permanent. True, you could say on your own that you could go to a hotel, but on what money? For sure you could negotiate with Joris. You move out and stop paying rent. But what if you happen to find a job after all? Then you'd have to look for a new apartment again, because hotels in Monaco aren't exactly cheap. And you certainly won't get a cheaper apartment than this one.

"All right."

Charles doesn't seem particularly surprised, but relieved nonetheless. More like his suggestion wasn't a suggestion, but a fact you'd have to agree to. Which makes you very uneasy.

Maybe he's the kind of guy who takes advantage of his looks to trick young women like you and then murder them in their sleep. Or maybe he'll drug you and sell you to the nearest human trafficker. Or-

"Then maybe we should talk about the sleeping arrangement." He takes a sip of wine and screws up his face. "I thought this was dry wine."

"Dry wine is gross."

Charles exhales audibly. "That's debatable. Whatever." He puts the glass back, but a little farther away than you had put it earlier. "You can sleep in the bed for all I care. I'll sleep on the couch. It shouldn't be that uncomfortable. Except - if it's okay with you - sometimes I'd like to sleep in the bedroom to save my back." His offer sounds reasonable. Once you fell asleep on the couch from fatigue. You could have saved yourself the backache the next day.

"No problem." You smile kindly at him. "Thanks. For letting me have the bed, I mean." And for not kicking me out.

He nods before standing up, taking the two empty plates and placing them in the sink. Charles turns around, hands braced on the ledge behind him. "We can wash this tomorrow, if you like. I'm too tired for that now. And you don't seem like you're particularly up for it right now, either."

He's right. Although your fingers are itching to wash the dishes and put everything in its place, you're so exhausted from the day and the terror of suddenly having a stranger in your apartment that you could fall asleep standing up. So you just nod. 

"I'll just go brush my teeth. Then you can go to the bathroom."

Charles sticks his thumb up before you disappear into the bathroom and quickly get ready for bed. Thank goodness you cleaned the whole apartment yesterday, so you don't have to worry about things lying around or dirt. 

As you exit the bathroom, Charles is settling into the couch. "I grabbed the second set of bedding from the closet in the hallway. You certainly don't need that, do you?" he asks. You shake your head. "Great. I sleep without an alarm clock until 9 most nights. So would be great if you could keep it down until then. The walls aren't very thick, I'm afraid." He spreads out the comforter while you stand in the room, still unsure, watching him. "Do you have to go to work tomorrow? No? Great. Then we can talk about the rest tomorrow. About cleaning and stuff. We'll figure it out." His smile is almost infectious as he pushes past you to go to the bathroom. "Good night, Y/N."

Just before he closes the bathroom door behind him, you see him pull his shirt over his head and his back muscles move under his tanned skin. 

Just at that moment, your cell phone rings. Without looking to see who's calling, you push the caller away. There is only one person who could be calling at such a late hour. And you definitely don't want to talk to that person. 

A few minutes later, you're lying in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin and the door locked for safety - you never know - and you're racking your brains about what needs to be sorted out tomorrow. And whether the whole thing might not have been a stupid idea after all. 

Living with a complete stranger? Who could possibly kill you in the night? Or worse - could put you out on the street from one moment to the next?

You turn on your side, one hand tucked under your cheek, the other between your knees.

Maybe Charles is nice enough and living together works out great. Maybe you'll even become friends. Anything is possible. 

And apart from that - you don't have any other choice. 

Neither of you can go anywhere else. You both need this apartment.

That you both also need each other, you don't know at this point.

next part

[its-time-to-write]

I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night  

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet. 

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee. 

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”  

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says. 

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants. 

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard. 

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone. 

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out. 

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table. 

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad. 

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says. 

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod. 

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say. 

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says. 

“Brill,” says Jamie. 

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket. 

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale. 

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again. 

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out. 

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red. 

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question. 

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him. 

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’” 

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house. 

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs. 

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly. 

You find him sitting under the tree. 

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt. 

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks. 

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his. 

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion. 

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him. 

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding. 

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here. 

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.  

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side. 

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him. 

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great. 

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe. 

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains. 

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family. 

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks. 

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca. 

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly. 

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles. 

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.  

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy. 

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling. 

They might know this from personal experience. 

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing. 

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you. 

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings. 

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once. 

[renren-006]

Keep Her Safe Pt. 2 | Daryl Dixion x Fem Reader

PART 1: Keep Her Safe A/n: hehehe enjoy part two for those who want to know what Dary would do if you were hurt

Everyone wonders what Daryl would do to someone, or the world if you got hurt. It wasn't too long after you arrived at Alexandra where they learned what would happen. 

When you got back from the run, blood covering your arm and chest Daryl swung at the first person he saw with your blood coating their skin.

“You” He has said, pounding his fist into the guy's face. You were too weak to help and the blood loss barely let you stand up without one of the girls' help. Rick pulled Daryl off the man, he himself was also pissed about you getting hurt. 

“The hell happened?” the first question out of Rick's mouth, the man stuttered. The look of anger on Daryl's face was enough to make the man want to run. Daryl looked down at the knife in the man's pocket, your blood seeped out from the pouch.

“There was a walker, he freaked out and thought she got bit,” the girl said. Rick checked your wound realizing it was a nife slash instead of a bite. Your birthmark peeked out from your tank top next to the knife wound. “Her birthmark?” Rick asked. “He thought it was a bite,” you told Rick. “he's dehydrated and new he didn't know”

“Dont excuse it” Daryl said. “He almost killed her”

“I know.” Rick said. “Well deal with him” 

Daryl took you from the other girl's arms carried you to the health house and had you stitched up. Part of your shirt was ripped and hanging off you, leaving your bra to be the only thing covering you. The birthmark was red and bloody, leaving you with a long scar from it to your chest. Daryl sat on the steps of the house awaiting you. 

“I'm fine ya know,” you told him, causing him to jump up from the stars. He looked at your stitches. “Will make a cool scar don't you think? Can add it to the list” 

You had a few scars from over the year, Daryl always felt guilty for everyone you had. Your biggest one happened when the prison fell, leaving you with a gaping wound on your thigh stretching the entire length. You remember that night being the most pain you had ever been in, and Darly had to stitch you up while Beth was crying at the sight. There were other scars and near-death experiences both of you had gone through, and still, it never got easier for Darly to handle.

“I hate seein ya like this” he said. 

“D…” “Nah nah dont brush it off this time” he asaid, “ya keep”

“What? Living? Almost dying?” you asked. “Daryl, look at the world we live in”

“Your infuriating” he said stomping off into the street. The light in the sky was fading, the sun having started its descent into night. 

“Me? How about you? Punching him, yelling”

“I was trying to protect ya” “I don't need it” you told him turning him around to face you in the street. “I don't need to be protected, I can take care of myself. I just…I love you and if I get hurt I worry about how you react every time”

“I love ya too. Its why…i need to protect ya”

“And I need you to trust me” you told him. He lowered his head and nodded.

“I do” he told you sincerely.

“Then let me handle things. Ill let you know when ya need to step in”

You didn't know it but what everyone thought was that while you were tough and could handle yourself, you were off limits. No one was to threaten you or else they would have to deal with Daryl, and he loved it. He loved the fact that he had this effect on people and that he could protect you this way. He can stay out of your way, but he wasn't going to stop acting like if anyone touched you they were dead. He learned to be sneaky about his threats.

[j0kers-light]

OMFG CHAOS! ♡ ︎♡ ︎♡ ︎

I am obsessed with your version of airhead!reader!! She's so soft and naive and ahhhh! 😝 I see alot of myself in her and I was thinking bout a request where J snaps at her probably for no reason, this is J he's always being a big meanie! Maybe she runs off and he has to calm her down somehow? I know you will come up with something better than I can! I love your writing!!!!1 Oh and pls take your time girly no pressure if you don't wanna write this! 💕

Luv you Chaos !! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Hey hi my lovely anon! 🖤✨

I'm so happy you loved airhead!reader, I'm always self conscious about writing for a pink aesthetic since I hate that color with a passion 😤 but, this ain't about me. You asked and I shall deliver!

I hope you enjoy anon! I wrote this while bedridden from my period, so if there are any errors haha no there isn't 😉

After your unexpected visit to Joker’s hideout with your bright smile and tasty sweets, you are welcomed with open arms by his crew.

They can’t help but love your adoring personality!

Joker might not like you around his organization, but he can’t deny you anything if it makes you happy. And being apart (a tiny part) makes you very, very happy 🥰

You waltz in almost every Friday with baked treats for everyone to enjoy, bringing rays of sunshine with you. ☀️✨

The goons let you play Mario Kart with a customized pink controller and include you in on juicy gossip around the hideout to keep you company while Joker is out terrorizing the city.

However, more often than not, you are left to your own devices because everyone is busy.

And that spells trouble because you don’t understand the concept of danger. At. All. 🙃

You wander the hideout and unknowingly meddle in things that should be left alone.

You almost got hurt from a few well placed boobytrap and you almost burned down the abandoned kitchen after trying to light the oven.

That thing has seen better days decades ago but you swore you could fix it. You of all people...

Joker isn’t happy. His Sunlight is a magnet for danger and he honestly wishes you would stay far farrrrr away from his operations but again.

When has he ever said no to his sweet girl? It’s virtually impossible, so you keep visiting much to his annoyance.

Joker’s solution is to lock you inside his office but that soon backfires when you throw a tantrum and somehow hurt yourself.

He’s more annoyed that you broke his favorite office chair so when you whine that you’re in pain? Oh Joker has had enough.

Joker came back from an unsuccessful mission to loud sobs coming from his office. Frost shrugged his shoulders before uttering, “I don’t get paid enough.” as he walked off.

Pussy. Fine, Joker could handle this! He wasn’t terrified of you..

When he opened the door and saw you sitting on the floor with his broken chair lying in pieces around you, his already limited patience evaporated like vapor.

“What did ya get into now?” He groaned.

You sobered up your tears and tried to greet Joker but the large cut on your leg stung too much so you remain seated. You weren’t expecting J to be in such a nasty mood.

“Are ya too dumb to speak, Y/n? I asked a question?” He rolled his eyes when your lower lip wobbled.

Sure you were a bit ditzy, but Joker never insulted you about it. To hear him belittle you at a time like this, hurt more than falling out of the chair.

You tried to respond but apparently not fast enough for J’s liking.

“You wouldn’t be sitting there lookin’ stupid if ya stayed at home! Whyy do I keep you around?”

The last part was said under his breath but you heard it loud and clear and it shattered your heart.

You ignored the pain and ran out of Joker’s office, a sobbing mess. He waved you off and set to work cleaning up the mess you left behind. He’d deal with you later.

When he reached down to pick up a broken piece, it sliced through his hand and made him hiss. It didn’t hurt him but that wasn’t the case for you.

His sweet Sunlight with your low tolerance to pain. It must’ve been agonizing. Seeing droplets of blood on the floor made him feel instant guilt.

Joker knew he messed up and chased after you to make things right.

You were startled awake by something soft brushing against your lips.

You almost freaked my but stopped the second you saw Joker laying on the bed beside you, spinning a flower in between his fingers.

He brushed it along the tear tracks that stained your cheeks, “I hate when ya cry…”

J sucked at apologizing but you knew by his sheepish behavior, that it was genuine. He didn’t know how to say, I’m sorry. So he found other ways.

It wouldn’t kill him to say it and you fixed your lips to help him out when the same flower trailed down your cheek, past your lips, and slipped straight to your leg.

You’re shocked to see that it was cleaned up and a pretty pink bandaid was covering the wound you had from earlier. You were speechless. Did J do that for you?

Joker watched you pensively as he brushed the wound with the flower. “I was mad earlier n’ took it out on you. I uh.. I didn’t mean what I said.. mkay? Kisses?”

He nudged a giant bouquet of flowers you didn’t notice closer to you on the bed and waited for your response. He looked absolutely pitiful, expecting your forgiveness.

What Joker said to you was really hurtful however he didn’t have to treat your wound or buy you flowers as an apology. With Joker, actions spoke louder than words so you knew he was truly sorry for being mean.

You couldn’t stand his green puppy dog eyes any longer. You never stayed mad at J for too long.

He breathed a sigh of relief when you leaned in to kiss him but panicked when you pulled away rather abruptly, “Don’t ever call me stupid again.” You warned.

Joker frantically nodded, “M’promise pretty girl, I won’t.”

[brokenpieces-72]

Dim Lights

Navigation Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

TW: dark imagery, very dark visuals, like dang my brain went kind of fucked doing this one.

By now you’re bloody exhausted. You’ve been sitting around the pool table going over everything with Laswell, Charly and Alex. Everything you know, everything they know and putting everything together that will fit. Charly and Alex were playing pool while you were fighting to stay awake, Ghost’s cat curled up in your lap.

Alex may be off the force now, but he still has some friends in the right places who can get evidence. Evidence that can let Farah go free, and maybe give you an edge on your current case. If you could put the officers on the boats without proof they were undercover you could at least reduce the sentence, maybe hope for bail. Laswell could represent them in court but even then it’s still a matter of proving them innocent. There were still two components you needed to make everything else work.

Nolan, and the key.

“If we have Nolan we can bring down Makarov a lot easier.” Charly comments.

“Milena’s dealings going public would make funding a lot harder.” Alex suggests.

“No.” You manage to say, half awake. They look over at you. “Makarov is away, that’s my time limit to solve this case properly.”

“If you solve this case properly, they will all be imprisoned.” Laswell reminds you.

“You know what I mean. I need to get evidence that solves this in their favour.” You say.

“Proving Makarov is behind it will do that.” Laswell says.

“Trying to prove someone like Makarov is corrupt will take too long, I don’t even want to think about what he is doing right now. I want to focus on getting the guys out. Plan a is to solve this case, plan b is doing it the ugly way. Plan c is last resort.”

“What’s plan b?” Alex asks, though he’s already guessing.

“Breaking them out.” You say, nonchalant. Charly smirks at that. “It’s more idea b, cause I don’t know how I would break them out.”

“What’s plan c?” Alex asks leaning on the pool cue.

“Not sure I want to think about it, and it’s only there if I can’t figure this out before Makarov comes back and takes the case into his own hands.” You exclaim. “Right now they’re the only ones who can put him in the ground, as eye witnesses. Makarov knows that, and since he’s taking time off it means he’s planning for them.”

The three could have guessed that, but they stay silent for your thoughts to be out loud and in the open. The silence also leads you to realize something.

“He’s digging their graves.” You say out loud. The other three had considered that but didn’t want to think about it. If Makarov couldn’t get a conviction or confession in his favour he’d make his own judgement. Your father had been on the other end of that judgement. You had to work quickly.

You need to get them out.

“I don’t care what we have to do. If I find Nolan and get him to cough up what he knows, we can redirect their reason for being there. Need him to cough up everything about that night.” You say.

“You vs the big ugly brute doesn’t look good for ya love.” Charly says. “You’re going to want help.”

“Where do we start looking?” You ask.

“I’ll ask around.” Alex says. “We need to find him and fast.”

You nod absently, looking down to see the cat was wiggling on her back. You gave her some belly scratches, welcoming the distraction. Laswell sighs, and stretches.

“I’ll need to get to work putting a defence for John together. Alex, get whatever you can and I can add it.” Laswell says, getting a nod from Alex.

“Call me when you find the ugly fuck.” Charly says, heading for the door with Laswell. Alex smirks before turning back to you once the door closed behind the two women. He sees you still playing with the cat, lost in thought. He sets the cue aside and lowers himself on to the couch. Alex fiddled with his prosthetic leg getting comfortable on the couch with you.

“Graves talked to me about what happened.” Alex says. You stop for a moment and then go back to playing with the cat, making her paw at your fingers. He moves a bit closer so he’s beside you on the couch. Alex is propped on his elbows leaning forward.

“How’s Farah?” You ask. Alex looks back at you and then forward again.

“Herself. She’s strong and her charges are minor. Push comes to shove I can cough up the money for bail. Means she’ll be on a leash though.” Alex says thinking about her. He can’t deny her determination. You’ve seen how he looks at her. The way she looks at him. There’s a beautiful respect there.

“How are you doing?” He asks. You stop playing and the cat rolls back over looks up at you. You shrug, unsure what to say.

“I thought I was fine with breaking the rules. I want to do this the right way but… I’m not my father.” You say, still thinking about what Price said.

“Your father got help from Price.” Alex says, seeing your expression. “Price got help from you.”

“Whole lot of shit it did for him.” You say, getting a small lump in your throat.

“You’re helping him now.” Alex says.

“Because Ghost helped me.” You argue.

“So did your father.” Alex says.

“But I’m not him!” You protest, your eyes tearing. “I’m not my dad, and I don’t want to be. I don’t get a choice anymore, I have to be my dad so I don’t get myself killed. I need to be dad or I lose everything my dad ever built, everything he ever left me with. And all I’m doing is sitting here, praying for a miracle to happen because I don’t know what else I can do. For all I know Nolan is already with Makarov, hiding away somewhere! If I… if I had just kept my stupid mouth shut, left Graves out of it, then none of this would have happened! I wouldn’t be alone…”

It feels good to let it out, even if hurts. You just don’t know what else to say. Alex listens and lets you get it out. Not the first time he’s been a shoulder to cry on.

“Y/n. We are going to beat Nolan until he spills more than his guts. You are not alone, you don’t need to be and you sure as hell shouldn’t be tonight.” Alex says. You sniff, and use your hoodie sleeve to wipe your eyes.

“Come here.” Alex says, and puts an arm on you, holding you tight. You need this. It helps a lot. You and Alex may not be close but he was one of the few you could rely on. You lean into his side and he lets you sit there with him, crying it out. The cat turns in your lap, and reaches up, head butting you. You give her some pets as she nuzzles into you.

“Feeling a little better?” Alex asks. You nod, sniffling a bit more.

“Thank you.” You croak.

“You have any blankets?” He asks. You look up at him. “Not leaving you alone in a safe house like this that’s for sure. Tomorrow we can start looking for answers. Sleep first, food in the morning, and then we get evil.”

“You’re not your father… you’re not your father… you’re not your father…”

You’re sitting across from Ghost at first and the key is on the table. Ghost has his balaclava, and suddenly is behind you with the key dragging across your throat. You feel yourself choking on something warm and thick. Suddenly you’re shoved to the ground.

You’re in the warehouse again, with Alejandro and Rudolfo staring down at you, skull masks on their faces. Everything around you is a blur.

“You’re not your father…”

As you stand up you feel a hand gripping your arm leading you past the two Los vaqueros. They stare you down, and you feel like the wind is knocked out of you. You can’t make out the person dragging you to a car, more focused on walking. Every step is heavy, and as you get closer to the familiar car you feel nothing but guilt. You see Gaz opening the door.

“You’re not your father.”

You get in the car, and see Soap in the front seat. The drive feels long and unending. Your head is foggy and you keep hearing voices. As you approach a building you start to panic. Not here. Not here. Anywhere but here!

“You’re not your father.”

You’re back home. It’s late. Not here. Please not here.

“You’re not your father.”

You see the door open, and Graves walks in, shirt covered in blood. When you look past, you see Farah on the ground, completely still. You hear a hauntingly familiar voice call out. When you turn you see yourself, as a little kid running towards Graves. When you look back you see Makarov holding younger you in a hug.

You reach for yourself, wanting to pull yourself away but some grabs you hand. You look back and see him.

“You’re not your father… you’ll never be your father.”

Price stares into your eyes and you feel nothing but hopelessness. You turn back and see the younger you being picked up by Makarov. No you can’t let him take you. You try to fight against Price but he holds you close, your screams are muted.

No. No you have to save them. You keep struggling and freeze. There’s a gun to your head.

“You’re not your father.”

The gun fires.

Alex hears you moaning and comes into your room, shaking you awake. You’re twisting and writhing, crying out, begging for someone to let you go.

“Kid! Wake up! Wake up!” Alex says. You wake and cry out, lashing out. Alex is able to work quickly and take you by the wrists, pulling you into a hug. Your heart is pounding and your mind is racing as Alex helps you ground yourself, hushing you and keeping a firm hand on the back of your head.

“Just a dream… it’s only a dream.” He says over and over, even after you put your arms around him, clawing at his shirt.

Then why do you still feel hopeless.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎImpossible౨ৎ꣑ৎ

(requested)(@kayleigh--23) [fem reader] contains: slow burn, angst, death, depression, fire, mentions of sexual assault, non-consensual touch, abandonment, jealousy, mentions of violence, childhood friends to lovers, reader's nickname is 'Daisy'. pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you and billy grew up together, and when he skips town, you're devastated. tragedy throws the two of you together again, and you're forced to confront your longtime feelings for him. author’s note: I switched up the timeline to work a little better with the story and the ages/stats may not be quite show-accurate but oh such is life. There's a little bit of Spanish in here that is not google translated, but I am not a native speaker so be warned. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

For as long as you could remember, you'd been counted as one of the boys.

Your older brother Joe was the only sibling you had, and in the town the two of you grew up there weren't many options for friends your age. Most of the girls around those parts were socialites in training that were far older than you and the boys teased you too much, so you usually wound up going wherever your brother did.

Joe had an easygoing nature, and naturally he got on well with an abundance of the boys his age, both as a child and a young man. But his best friend by far was Billy, a dark-haired Irish immigrant who you'd known ever since his family moved to town. He and you had bonded at first over your respective brothers having the same name, then over riding and horses.

When you were younger you often tagged along when Billy and Joe would go off to play their games, and neither of them minded you. You usually kept to yourself anyways, playing games of silent make believe with pretty rocks you'd find along the trails. Sometimes they'd rope you into whatever they were doing, and you obliged, just happy to be a part of the fun.

As you all got older, Billy and Joe's games turned into handling guns, and you learned too, since your circles were so limited. You'd spend hours in the sun shooting cans off fence posts. It was a freeing thing- to be out there in the wilderness and not worry about what you should or shouldn't be doing.

The girls in town would poke fun at you for hanging out with boys but you paid them no mind for the most part. You'd take your worries over theirs any day.

The years were spent climbing trees and hopping fences to steal apples, always laughing, always content. You felt that you wanted for nothing. You had a father and brother who loved you, and a friend in Billy. What more could you possibly need?

Billy was over at your house for dinner a few times a week, laughing and joking with you and Joe like he'd been born into it. Your father was fond of him as well, treating him like one of his own. And you always thought of him like that too, like another brother, just as good as Joe.

But when you were sixteen and Billy was seventeen, something switched.

Joe was off doing something for your father, so it was just you and Billy that evening. He'd suggested riding since it was sunny out for the first time in a while, the rain having taken up a great deal of the springtime. You'd agreed and off the two of you went, exploring the prairie with the vigor only the young possess.

"Think you can race me to that tree?" you asked, nodding at it on a hill in the distance.

"You bet, but don't cry when ya lose Daisy." He called you by your nickname, grinning as he did. As a child you'd been obsessed with the little white flowers, picking them and putting them everywhere. He'd started calling you by that name and hadn't stopped.

"You wish!" Tugging on your horse's reins, you were off, the wind in your hair, a rush of adrenaline shooting through you as you kept your eyes on the horizon. Billy was fast, but you liked to think you were faster. You'd been riding this horse since you were young.

Easily you reached the tree before he did, and he groaned good naturedly, hopping off his horse and tying the reins to a low branch. You were about to do the same when he suddenly reached up, grabbing you around the waist, hauling you off the horse and spinning you around. You squealed in surprise and he stumbled, sending the two of you rolling down the hill. You tumbled together, shrieking with laughter as you reached the bottom.

He did the gentlemanly thing and made sure you landed on top of him, your face buried in his chest as you laughed.

"Well, I know you won but I damn sure didn't lose," he laughed, one of his arms landing on your back.

And in that moment, when you looked up, hair in your face, and saw Billy's bright blue eyes piercing yours, it hit you.

You loved him.

He reached over to tuck a strand behind your ear and your heart fluttered, a little smile growing. "I dunno, I think seeing your face when you tripped was the best prize of all."

He laughed and sat up, giving you a nudge with his shoulder. "I guess we're both winners then."

Then he stood up, offering you a hand. You took it, the feeling of his warm fingers making your stomach flip. He held your hand as you walked back up the hill, and you tied your horse on the same branch as his so the two of you could sit in the shade of a tree. You let him talk aimlessly, distracted by your new discovery.

Suddenly you were noticing how handsome he was, how his hair fell in little curls on his forehead, how his skin was slightly tanned with a freckle here and there, how his smile was endearingly just a little crooked. And his eyes, the color of a clear sky. You were wholly enamored by him, and he had no idea.

He chattered with you for a while as you mused over it all. As the two of you watched the sunset, he reached over and picked a wildflower, placing it in your hand.

"For you," he said, his charming smile directed at you.

You treasured that memory every night after that.

From that point on, you were unsure how to act around him. He would joke around with you like usual and you responded in the like, but now with subconscious battles waging. Did he like you too? Were you just a little sister to him? What would Joe think?

All the things you normally did with him and Joe were now overthought on your part. You felt self-conscious now about going swimming with them in the lake, because you'd be wearing your white chemise and they were shirtless in their underwear. The underdress stuck to your body when you swam, clinging to your newly grown breasts and wet skin. Joe didn't pay any mind to it of course, but you could see that Billy noticed. Does that mean something?

Shooting was still fun, but one time when you missed and he stepped in to correct your form, you felt your breath hitch at his body being so close to yours.

You nursed the crush on him for a year, trying desperately to act normal around him so he wouldn't notice.

When your father died suddenly, you didn't have time for such things anymore. Joe stepped up to take over the ranch, and you did too, balancing books and managing the workers. You lost several nights of sleep trying to learn how to run everything properly. Your mother was long gone and your brother was taking care of the more physical aspects, so the responsibility fell on you.

Billy still came around to help out, but you were so busy you barely noticed. A part of you mourned it, the lost time. Because even tragedy couldn't squash feelings.

One day, he came over with a bunch of wildflowers, smiling as he handed them over. He twisted his hat in his hands. "I just...I thought you could use somethin' pretty," he said, his blue eyes earnest.

You'd nearly burst into tears at the gesture, throwing your arms around his neck. He wrapped one arm around your waist, careful not to squash the blossoms. "Thank you," you murmured, pulling back and kissing his cheek. "They're beautiful."

There was that charming smile again, melting your heart. "Thought of you when I saw 'em, you know cause they're-" he cut himself off, looking down and shaking his head. "Anyway, I'm glad you like 'em Daisy."

"How's your mama doing?" you inquired softly. His mother was sick, last you'd heard, with the same illness that had taken his brother.

Billy sighed, his emotion making him seem a hundred instead of eighteen. "She's hangin' in there."

"Good," you said, giving him a half smile. "Give her a kiss for me. She's the sweetest lady around these parts."

"Yes'm," he nodded. Then, he reached one of his hands up to cup your cheek, looking into your eyes with all the sincerity you'd ever seen from him. His palm was rough, and you liked the feeling, unable to help leaning into it as you gazed up at him. He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed your cheek, the little bit of stubble he had scratching against your soft skin.

Your smile was pure. "Was that from your mama?"

"No," he said, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. "That was from me."

Billy kissed your forehead, holding your head close to his shoulder for a moment before pulling back. As he left, his fingers trailed down your cheek, chucking you under the chin. "I'll see ya 'round, Daisy."

And then he trudged down the stairs, off to his horse to leave. You stood there on the porch, leaning against the railing for a moment and watching him get on his horse. Lifting your fingers in a wave, you watched him tip his hat before riding away.

You were distracted all night, frequently looking over at the wildflowers you'd put in a vase on your desk. His kisses played over and over again in your head like they were the only thing in it. When Joe came home, he asked what had your head in the clouds and you just said you had a good day. No need for him to know his best friend was kissing you, even innocently.

Billy's mother passed away one lonely night, and your heart ached for him like it hadn't for anyone else. Whenever you saw him after that, he carried a subtle melancholy that one had to know him to notice.

Joe noticed, you knew, and so he distracted Billy, frequently meeting up with him and another friend of theirs. Jesse was an outrageous flirt, but good with a gun, and the other two boys liked his company well. You didn't know if what they got up to was legal, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, staying home and managing things there.

You'd catch a glimpse of Billy every now and then and remember that night on the porch, wondering if that was what he thought of when he saw you too. The nights were lonely when Joe was out with them, which was almost every night, and you longed for simpler times before anyone died. You yearned for the luxury of your young love for Billy because everything was different now. Childhood was over.

It seemed everywhere you looked a memory burst from your fingertips, the surfaces you touched more than senses. You mourned the loss of Joe, Billy and you. Those carefree wonderful children. It was all gone now.

On a rainy night in August, you were still in this haze, trapped in the past you could never reclaim. It was unusually chilly for this time of year, so you were sitting near the fireplace, trying to warm both your body and your heart. It was late. You'd been hoping Joe would come home soon but as the clock ticked, you realized it'd be another late night for him. You felt yourself growing tired, so you stood up, intending to go to bed.

Just as you started for the stairs, there was a heavy but frantic knock on the door, and you frowned. Who could be here this late?

You went to the door, opening it hesitantly, taken aback when you saw Billy on the other side. He was shivering, dripping water onto the porch. His eyes almost seemed like they were frozen in time, stuck on something he'd seen that'd change him forever.

"Billy?" you breathed, taking him by the hand and pulling him inside.

"'M sorry Daisy, 'm sorry for comin' here," he muttered, his teeth chattering.

You shushed him, bringing him to sit by the fire and spreading a blanket out for the two of you. He kicked off his boots before sitting beside you, his arms tight around himself to try and keep warm. The heat from the fire helped him loosen up after a moment, his shoulders relaxing, but only a little.

Your face shrouded with worry; you leaned closer to him. "Billy? What happened?"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and looking like he was trying not to cry. You'd never seen him like this. Not when he'd fallen out of a tree when he was ten, not when he'd stepped on a bee the same year. Hell, not when his brother and mother died within such short time of each other. But now, now he was broken. He was falling apart just as you'd been for the past few months.

Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tight, and he buried his face in your shoulder. His arms wound around your waist, holding you snug to him. The front of your dress was getting wet because he was still soaked, but you didn't care, your body falling perfectly into his as you did your best to comfort him.

After a while of silence, he pulled back, just looking at you. There were tears clinging to his eyelashes, and his eyes looked bluer than you'd ever seen them. His lips parted, and his gaze was intense. Apparently tonight was the night for firsts, because this was another way you'd never seen him. His hands came up to your face, touching your cheeks hesitantly like he was afraid you'd disappear. One of his hands fell back to your waist, and you shivered slightly at the touch, unable to help yourself.

Billy's other hand slid to the back of your head, in your hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands. He was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. You felt a pull in your heart, an urge to be closer, to be with him. It was impossible to remember what was lost now when he was right in front of you.

"Daisy." He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing softly, saying your name so quietly it felt like a prayer, a plea.

"Billy," you breathed, searching his eyes. You thought you knew every part of him, but you didn't know what he was going to do next.

So, when he kissed you, it was a supernova.

His lips crashed into yours, hot despite his trembling, needy in light of whatever the hell he'd been through that night. You'd never been kissed before, not like this. He was starving, desperate, and you had never wanted him more.

The hand in your hair pressed you closer to him, and you saw it all in his eyes when he pulled back slightly, the burning within him. Your hands framed his face, you leaned in for another kiss, and this time it didn't stop.

Before you knew it you were on your back, tearing at his shirt buttons. He shouldn't be wearing his wet clothes anyway. You did not think about Joe coming home, you did not think about the past for the first time in so long. His hands were on you too.

He caressed your body like he'd created it. Billy must have smoothed you out with his fingers, because you had never seen yourself the way you were reflected in his eyes. You had imagined doing this with him, of course, but here the line between fact and fiction became blurred. Is this real?

When he fastened his lips to the pulse point on your neck you gathered it was.

His fingers nimbly tugged at the top buttons of your dress, pushing open the folds to reveal your chest, which seemed to spur him on. Within minutes the garment was tossed elsewhere, his clothes were somewhere else, and his body was weighing on top of you in ways you never knew could be erotic. Skin against skin. Lips locked in a hungry dance. Limbs so tangled you didn't know whose was whose.

The windows fogged up from the rain, or your combined heavy breathing, you weren't sure when you were done. You were still knotted with him, his skin warmed from the fire. Billy traced shapes on your face with his calloused fingers, watching you tiredly with a fascination you'd never imagined could have related to you.

His gaze was very nearly adoring. You had dreamed of him looking at you like that. And now here the two of you were, side by side facing each other after doing the most intimate thing anyone could do. He was perfect in this light, the warmth from the fire making him glow.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his finger trailing lightly down your cheekbone. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

"How do you know?" you whispered, not really knowing what you were asking.

He seemed to understand anyways, leaning forward to capture your lips with his again, his kiss tender and sweet.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes. "What does this mean?"

Billy was quiet, holding your face in his hand. He pressed his lips to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips again and you knew. He loved you too.

He pulled you close against him, so your head was resting on his collarbone, tucked beneath his chin. His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you into sleep. You felt more comfortable, more loved than you had in a long time. In the morning you'd ask him more, you decided as you drifted off. You didn't want to ruin the quiet peace you finally held in your hands, his underneath, supporting it.

Sometime in the night, your peace shattered, and when you woke up he was gone.

The fire was burnt out. It had stopped raining. You were still lying on the blanket in front of the fireplace, but someone had taken the other half and folded it over you. Billy.

You held the edge of the blanket to your nose. It still smelled like him. Confused and dazed, you sat up and looked around. Obviously, Joe hadn't returned home because he would have thrown a fit over you sleeping naked in front of the fire. Your dress was folded messily by your side. There were dried boot prints on the wooden floor, the only shred of evidence that someone else had been there.

If you hadn't been naked, you would have thought you made the whole thing up. Billy, whom you'd loved for years, had stumbled upon your doorstep and cried in your arms, then made love to you? The notion was impossible, and yet you remembered every second of it.

You sat awhile there, the blanket around your legs, just reliving the night, before you decided you had better get up before your brother came home.

You waited anxiously for Joe, jumping to your feet when he walked through the door, hanging his hat. It was almost dark. He greeted you, looking tired.

"Joe?" you asked, standing subtly near him as he sat down, running a hand over his face.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

"Have you seen Billy at all today?" you asked casually, fidgeting with your fingers.

He looked somber as he met your eyes. "Billy left town."

It felt like you'd been knocked off your feet. Your heart pounded in your ears, your face going pale. "What do you mean he left?" There was a hint of desperation in your voice, but you didn't care.

"He's gone, little," Joe said drily, looking up at you. He looked so defeated, and it broke your heart.

Still, your breath shuddered as the gravity of the situation hit you. Billy was gone. Really gone. You didn't ask Joe how he knew, just sank into a chair and blinked back the hot tears that stung your eyes. He'd kissed you, performed an act of love upon you and then left.

Joe took pity on you, putting his arms around you and hugging you tightly, despite the fact you knew he was hurting too. "I know," he said quietly. "I know."

He knew you missed him. You wanted him to come back. He didn't know what you and Billy had shared the night before, didn't know how truly his best friend had hurt you.

You clutched at Joe and let a tear slip down your cheek, coming to terms with it all. It was likely you'd never see him again.

And in that moment, you felt the last threads of the childhood you'd been grasping at slip into the darkness. It was quiet, which was somehow worse than screaming.

You gathered the papers on the desk, stacking them neatly in a pile and putting your pen down. Being hunched over a desk all day was certainly draining, and you knew some fresh air would be just the thing. It was a springy June day, and you'd been yearning to escape the confines of your work as long as you'd been awake.

The house was quiet, as it'd been for months. Joe, as a way to make a little more money, had joined Jesse's gang, assuring you it was temporary. You'd let him go; confident you could handle things at the ranch by yourself. And you were right. Things were smooth, the banality of it all welcome after the tumultuous few years you'd had.

Jesse's gang was stationed at a hideaway not terribly far from the ranch, but far enough that you didn't go often, preferring that Joe come to you. You always felt like you were walking into the lion's den when you visited, the stares of men who hadn't had women for a long while fixed on you.

So, you stayed. And everything was fine.

You mused to yourself as you left the house, saddling your horse and meandering aimlessly into the trees. The sun was hitting your skin just right, and you tilted your head back, enjoying the warmth. You stopped in a little grove you were fond of, tying your horse and wandering around as you were wont to do.

Coming across a wildflower, you bent and picked it, tucking it behind your ear. There was nobody to see how the blue looked against your hair, but you did it anyway, liking how the gesture felt.

As your eyes caught the other flowers scattered in the grass, your mind wandered to the day on the hill. When he'd picked and given you a flower that looked just like the one behind your ear. You thought of Billy often, sometimes in anger, sometimes in sadness. But today he was only a memory, something nice you got to hold for a little while but was forced to let go of.

You hoped he was well. You always would.

It was unclear how long you'd stayed out when you decided to go back, but that was the beauty of living on your own. You were on your time.

Maybe you'd be able to do some reading tonight, you pondered as you rode back, your horse trotting contently. Fun reading, not ranch reading. You looked forward to the quiet evening in store, happy at the thought of having some time for yourself.

You reached the threshold of the ranch and saw instantly that your plans had been set aflame. Literally.

Flames licked at the walls of your childhood house, consuming the only home you'd ever known. You watched in horror, hands gripping the reins, as a group of bandanaed men, hats pulled low over their faces, rounded up horses and cattle, effectively stealing your livelihood.

You were frozen, eyes wide with fear. Nonononononononono.

One of the men, wearing a blue bandanna, spotted you, and your mind realized it before your body did, so your actions were too slow. You tried to tug at the reins of your horse, but the man was already running toward you, grabbing the saddle and dragging you off.

You screamed, hoping against hope that someone nearby would hear. it was a shot in the dark. Nobody lived less than twenty miles away. The man clapped a hand over your mouth, silencing you and pulling you a little way from your horse. One of his companions, whose bandanna was red, came over to investigate, looking you over with something in his eyes you did not appreciate.

"What do we have here, eh?" he grinned, and you struggled, whimpering in protest, the other man holding your hands behind your back.

"We could probably do somethin' with her too," Blue said, leaning over to study your face. "Pretty little thing ain't she?"

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Your breath quickened as you realized what they wanted to do with you, and you acted before you could think about it. You kicked the Red between his legs, sending him sprawling backwards, and used that distraction to bend your knee, lifting your leg backwards and doing the same to the Blue. He groaned in pain, letting go of your hands, and you stumbled to your horse, mounting her and kicking her into a run.

Your horse galloped across the prairie, the wind blowing your hair back, hot tears running in rivers down your cheeks as you charged to the only place you knew you could go.

You had to stop to sleep at one point, and it was a restless night hidden in the trees. For food you stole berries from the bushes, thankful for your childhood that'd taught you which ones were good. You used your hands to scoop water from the creek.

Mercifully, you made it through the night without being kidnapped, and continued on to Jesse's hideaway, making it there about mid- afternoon. Your legs were sore from being atop a horse for hours, but you were afraid to stop longer than you had to.

At last, you could see the hideaway over the hill, and you rode desperately, stealing through the entrance. You could see a man standing at the water pump, and you prayed it was Joe, or even Jesse, someone. You jumped from your horse, tying her up on a fence post and running to him.

As you got closer, you could see it wasn't Joe or Jesse, but you kept moving toward him. Even if it was a new recruit, he could tell you when your brother would be back. You could pick out his features the closer you got, his dark hair, his tall build. The man heard you approaching and turned to face you, his eyes widening when he saw who you were.

You halted in your tracks, a few yards away from him, your heart beating a steady rhythm against your breast, both from the ride and the shock.

"You're so beautiful", you remembered, the words echoing through the hallowed halls of your memory. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

He took a careful step toward you. "Daisy?"

The name only he'd ever called you on his lips after forever of not seeing him was the breaking point, and you burst into tears, running into his arms.

Billy held you against his chest, his arms secure around your shaking body. He whispered soothing things to you as you cried and clung to him like a lifeline. He dug his nose into your hair, kissing the top of your head. As he did, you wondered if it was a way of comforting you, or a gesture because he'd missed you. Maybe it was both.

"Shh, Daisy," he soothed, one arm around your waist, rubbing your back, the other at the back of your head, holding you to him. "You're gonna make yourself faint. Deep breaths now, c'mon."

He demonstrated for you, breathing in deep through his chest, the motion moving your body with him. You copied him, feeling your heart rate slow down and your mind clear a little, giving you refuge from the utter panic that'd been raging for the past twenty-four hours.

"That's it, just like that," he muttered, running his hand through your hair. "Everything's alright, you're safe. I've gotcha."

You let yourself relax into him, breathing softly for a moment and savoring him. You'd missed Billy, you knew that. But being in his arms again reminded you just how much. The envelope you thought you'd thrown away was torn open.

"You wanna tell me what's got ya so upset now?" Billy murmured against you, rocking you back and forth slightly, still holding you tight to him.

Taking in a shuddering breath, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. He lifted a hand and caught a tear that had trembled its way down your cheek. "It's alright Daisy. You can tell me."

"Another gang," you choked, remembering everything. "They set the house on fire. Took all the horses 'n cattle. There's nothing left..." At that last part, your voice went high and trailed off as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down your face. Billy paled, his eyes widening.

"Oh Daisy." He squeezed you tight to him, letting you cry. "Daisy, Daisy...'m so sorry. Musta been awful..." Billy pressed his lips to your hair again. "'S okay. You're safe now."

You stood there with him, realizing his arms were the only thing in the world that could comfort you. You never wanted to leave the safety of them. Oh, how you'd missed them, missed him.

"You left me Billy," you breathed, unable to help it.

"I know sweetheart," he said, the term of endearment slipping from his lips as if he'd always said it. It warmed your heart.

"You left Joe too."

"I did."

"We needed you."

"I needed you too," was his quiet response. You looked up from his chest, searching his eyes when suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

"Who's this?" When you turned to see who it was, through teary eyes you saw a woman with brown hair holding a pot standing a few feet away. You found her rather pretty, but still furrowed your brow, confused. Joe had never mentioned a woman around, and you'd certainly never seen her before.

Billy told the woman your name, and maybe it was your imagination, but his arms seemed to stiffen a bit around you, holding you in closer. "Her brother's Joe."

"Ah, I see," the woman said, eyeing you. You gave her a little smile, not really in any position to meet new people. Still, you wanted to be friendly. It wasn't her fault you were homeless.

"Daisy this is Barbara," Billy said, nodding at the woman, who was still studying you. Her eyes lingered on the way you clung to Billy, seeming to pick up on the familiarity between the two of you.

"Hello," you said shyly, still wary of letting go of Billy. He didn't seem to mind, running his hand soothingly through your hair.

She didn't say hello back.

Billy looked up into the distance, and you heard the distinct sound of several hooves on the earth. The gang was back.

You let go of Billy and turned to watch them ride down the hill, spotting Joe instantly among them. Jesse was at the head, whooping and hollering as was usual. Billy kept a protective hand on your shoulder as the gang dismounted, seeming to know without you telling that you didn't exactly feel safe around most of them.

Joe ran up as soon as he saw you, pulling his bandana down. "What're you doin' here little?" Then he saw the tear tracks on your face. "What happened?"

He held out his arms and you fell into him. Joe hugged you tightly, albeit confusedly. "You shouldn't be here, you oughtta head back home-"

"Ain't no home to head back to Joe," Billy cut him off, folding his arms, his eyes on you.

Joe looked down at you, frowning. "What's he mean?"

You told him what happened, and his face fell. Even if he'd been absent lately, he'd grown up in the same house, held the same memories you did. He hugged you again. "I'm sorry you had to see that, little."

You sniffled, shaking your head. "I'm just glad I got away in time."

"Me too," Joe said, concernedly looking over you for injuries. "Ride over was alright? Didn't hit any trouble?"

"No," you shook your head again. "I had to stop and sleep, but when I rode in Billy was right there and-"

You'd looked over at Billy as you said it, but you cut yourself off when you saw his face. He wasn't watching you anymore. His eyes were on Barbara, who was in the middle of a nice long kiss with Jesse.

That look. You knew it not only because you'd spent half your life reading him, but because you'd felt it before, when you'd seen him flirt harmlessly with girls in the town you grew up. Jealousy. And a tinge of heartbreak. Mixed with that, hidden slightly beneath that was something else. Another thing you'd seen before. That slight, subtle look of possession.

You'd only seen it one time, and that time happened to be a certain night by the fireplace, right after something you'd only dreamed of sharing with him before.

And that's when it hit you.

He'd slept with her.

Billy had offered you his room, but you'd refused, opting to wait in Joe's for him. You didn't want to look at Billy right now.

When your brother finally came in, you sat up straight, looking at him expectantly. He held up a dress. "Took a bit of convincing, but this is one of Barbara's. You can wash the one you're wearing." He scratched his neck. "Me 'n some of the boys'll go back to the house 'n see if there's anything to salvage in a bit. Just in case."

You took it from him, holding it in your lap. It was blue, not the most flattering but you didn't care.

"Any news?" you asked softly, looking up at him.

"We sent a letter," Joe said, sitting down next to you. "All there's to do now is wait. But don't hold your breath. The law ain't fast around here."

"Thank goodness for you," you muttered, and he half-grinned, nudging your shoulder.

"Yeah, that's the way we like it," he said, looking down at his hands.

You were quiet for a moment before you asked, "When did Billy get here?"

Joe hesitated. "'Bout a week ago. Jesse found him passed out in the desert. Left him here with Barbara to get him healthy again while we rode out." He looked up at you. "I was gonna tell you."

"It's okay," you said, meaning it. "There wasn't any time to tell me between you leaving and...this." A familiar wave of grief passed over you as you thought about everything again. "When did Barbara join the gang? I've never seen her before."

"Jesse found her two months back," Joe explained. "Took a real liking to her. She was runnin' away from her folks. Seems they ain't nice people."

"And Barbara and Jesse're...?" you let your question trail off.

Joe laughed. "Yeah. If what I hear through the walls is any indication."

"Ah." You didn't tell Joe what you knew about her and Billy, even though hearing this confused you. Billy must have slept with her while the rest of the gang was gone. Joe wouldn't know why it had any significance to you.

Joe nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder. "You can stay here for a while, little, until we get things figured out. I'm sure Barbara'd be happy to have some help 'round here."

You weren't too sure Barbara would be happy to have anything to do with you at all, but you didn't tell Joe this, instead forcing a smile and nodding. "Okay."

"Good," Joe said, standing up from the bed, the loss of his weight making the springs creak. "I'll leave ya to get changed." He shut the door behind him.

You peeled your short-sleeved dress from your body, also in a light blue color. It'd been one of your favorites, and you were thankful it'd been spared from the fire.

Barbara's dress fit you well. It wasn't as stylish as yours, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. At least it was clean.

You took your dress outside to wash, scrubbing it of dirt and sweat and whatever else you'd encountered on the way over. When it was hanging out to dry, you wandered to a nearby tree, leaning against it and looking out at the plains for a moment. It was a sunny day, and you enjoyed it the best you could despite the circumstances.

The tree's branches were low enough for climbing, so you hauled yourself up, legs swinging as you sat on a branch midway from the top, leaning against the trunk. The bark was scratchy against your skin, but you paid the sensation no mind, just staring at the clear sky.

Footsteps crunched through the grass below you. You didn't turn your head to see who it was. Call it a sixth sense but you always knew when he was near.

Billy scaled the tree to sit on the same branch, leaning back on another one just a little higher than yours. Of course he'd want to talk to you.

"Joe 'n the others left for the house," he said, but you didn't turn your head, still watching the clouds.

"I didn't stay to see how far the fire got," you said quietly. "I don't know if there's anything worth saving."

"Still." Billy shifted. "They'll be back tomorrow mornin'."

You turned your body to face his, so your back was fully against the trunk. In your frenzy earlier, you hadn't gotten a good look at him. He'd grown in his time away from you. He seemed sturdier, surer of himself. His hair was a little bit longer, his skin a little more weathered. And he was handsomer than ever. "You didn't go with 'em?"

"They figured I'd best not show my face 'round those parts just in case," he said, half smiling. "Y'know, cause of last time I was there."

You were quiet, still looking at him, and his smile dropped. "You don't know."

"Last time I saw you was when we..." you trailed off, biting your lip. "You didn't tell me anything, just-"

"I'm sorry for that, Daisy," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Sorry for sleeping with me?" you asked, your voice's tone heightening pathetically.

"No," Billy shook his head instantly. "Not that...never that. I'm sorry for takin' advantage of you. For not tellin' you what was goin' on."

"What happened?" you asked, your voice desperate. You looked at him with all the hurt that had festered in your being for months. "You slept with me and then left. I was so worried..." your breath hitched, and you looked away.

"Daisy," he murmured, reaching for your hand, but you moved it to your face, running a hand over it. Billy sighed, and you could feel it, the weight of whatever he'd done, wherever he'd been. "The night before...Jesse'd-" he cut himself off for a moment. "Jesse'd talked me into doin' somethin' real stupid. Somethin' that got me arrested. I'd escaped from jail the night I came to see you."

You turned to look at him, your eyes wide. Given the ranch had been a little way from town, you didn't often hear of news like that, mostly keeping to yourself. Of course you wouldn't have known. "Billy..."

"I'm a wanted man, Daisy," Billy breathed, his blue eyes piercing yours. "I've been in another county for a while, and then I got into some more trouble and left. Got robbed somewhere in the desert and Jesse found me 'n brought me here. That's all there is to it." He brought his hand to your face, then through your hair so he was holding you there. The feeling of his big hand there was familiar, comforting.

You sniffled a bit, closing your eyes for a moment to feel it. Everything made sense now. The way he'd come to you, the reason he'd left. But it'd still hurt you.

"That night," you said softly, your eyes still glued to his. You couldn't have pulled away if you tried. "What we did...did it...mean anything to you?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes earnest. "Of course it did Daisy...I'd never..." he swallowed. "You've been on my mind a whole lot since I left."

His words made your heart soar with hope, but then you remembered Barbara, and it plummeted back to earth. The realization lowered your voice. "I've thought about you too Billy."

"Yeah?" he asked, eyes hopeful.

"Yeah." You looked down. "I missed you."

Billy wordlessly moved closer to you on the branch, drawing you into his arms. He kept his hand in your hair, his favorite place it seemed. He held you to him for a bit, and you relaxed for the first time in a day.

Holding you against him still, he asked, "What exactly happened at the ranch Daisy?"

"I already told you." Your words were muffled against his chest.

"Yeah, but I know that ain't all that happened," Billy said, pulling you back a little so he could look at you. "I know you. There's somethin' else."

You thought with a tiny shudder of the men who'd grabbed you, and what they would have done to you if you hadn't gotten away. "No. I told you everything."

"Daisy." His voice was firm, and you knew he meant it.

"Billy," you said back, leaning into his chest again. "I don't want to talk about it."

He was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay." You were thankful he didn't ask any more questions.

You spent the night in Joe's room since he was absent, and all the while you thought about Billy. And Barbara. Was she in his bed right now, or was he in hers? Would you wake up to the sounds of them doing something you didn't even want to think about? Eventually you fell asleep, tortured by what you'd make up.

When you woke in the morning, you donned your dress that had dried out over the porch yesterday and went outside, looking for anyone. You spotted Barbara at the water pump and made your way over, standing shyly in front of her. "Hello."

She looked at you, giving you a once over that seemed to be her habit. "Hello."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked, fidgeting with your hands behind your back. She intimidated you, and it wasn't just because you knew about her and Billy. There was a certain element about her that caused you to retreat into your shyer tendencies.

Barbara paused for a moment, thinking. "You can fry the eggs in the kitchen for the three of us. And wake Billy. He's a deep sleeper."

You knew that, and for some reason it hurt that she did. Nodding, you turned around and went right back to the house, slightly bothered by your interaction with her.

When you got to the kitchen you decided to make the eggs first, hoping the smell would rouse Billy from sleep. When the food was plated and he still hadn't appeared, you sighed and went to his bedroom, the only door that was closed.

He was shirtless as he slept, lying on his stomach with his head turned to the side. The sheets were pulled to his waist, revealing the messy outline of his legs. Billy looked pretty when he was asleep, but you always thought him pretty.

You sat on the bed, contemplating lying down with him. in your experience shaking him rarely, if ever worked. Still, you tried, and unsurprisingly it was not successful.

So, you went with your other idea lying down facing him. Your hand reached out to trace your fingers down his arm. He took in a sharp breath, and instantly you knew he was awake. Billy's arms reached out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his chest. "Daisy," he murmured without opening his eyes.

"You gotta wake up Billy," you said softly, putting a hand on his warm chest. He opened his eyes, almost seeming surprised that you were there.

"'M I dreamin'?" he mumbled sleepily, and you smiled, shaking your head.

"Don't think so." You ran your fingers up and down his arm again. He'd filled out, his muscles were tauter.

He shook his head, seeming to remember something. "Right." Billy loosened his hold on you, but still didn't let go.

His hair was a mess, little dark curls matting his forehead. Your eyes roved over him, catching all the familiar details you'd picked up on from your years together. The way his hair curled by his ears. The tiny birthmark under his jaw. His thick, dark eyelashes.

You ached to touch him, but you didn't, letting him hold you a little longer before you heard the front door open. Barbara was back. Sitting up, you rubbed his shoulder. "C'mon, get up. We've got eggs."

Billy grumbled a bit, pawing at you. "Couple more minutes?"

"Uh uh, get up," you said, getting off the bed and leaving, shutting the door behind you.

Barbara was in the kitchen when you came back, eating already. She nodded at you. "Thanks."

You gave her a tiny smile. "You're welcome. Least I can do for you lettin' me stay."

She half smiled dryly at you. "It'd be a sorry sight if I kicked Joe's sister out."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you were thankful when Billy walked in, wearing a blue striped shirt. It was one of your old favorites, and you wondered if he'd known that. Likely not.

"Thanks Daisy," he said, grabbing his portion. You all lingered in the kitchen, eating quietly, the only sound being forks scraping against plates.

Barbara put her clean plate on the counter first. "I'm gonna go finish chores. Billy? You comin'?"

He paused. "I was gonna take Daisy for a ride. That okay or do ya need help?"

She looked from him to you, and you looked down at your plate, not knowing if you should say something. "No. That's alright, I'll manage."

And with that she left the kitchen. You looked over at Billy. "Are you sure she doesn't need help?"

"Nah, all this week by the time I got up she usually had everything mostly done," Billy said, putting the last forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"Are you sure?" you asked nervously, looking at the door she'd gone out of. "I'd feel bad if-"

"Daisy, it's alright," Billy assured you, seeing your empty plate and taking it, stacking it on Barbara's. "After what you've been through, you're allowed to have a day, alright? 'Specially if your work habits haven't changed since I last saw you."

You smiled at that. "I do kinda get carried away."

"I know," he said, taking your hand. "C'mon, let's go. I miss ridin' with you."

You let him pull you to the horses, unable to say no to him, but also because you'd missed it too.

Mounting your beloved horse, you petted her mane softly. She must've been tired after the long ride here, but now after a good night's sleep she nickered softly at your touch, and you smiled fondly.

You guided your horse to follow Billy's, riding through the open hills and into a forest-like area, with trees and wildflowers blooming from the earth. It was beautiful, and you enjoyed your surroundings as you followed him. It was funny to think that just a day ago you'd been doing this exact thing, with no hope of seeing him again. But now here you were.

Keeping to the routine the two of you had always followed, you tied up your horses and went to walk through the trees together.

"You still ride like this often or did I jump the gun and assume you did?" Billy asked, striding alongside you through the grass.

"I do, pretty often now that I-" you cut yourself off. "When I lived alone."

"You were really livin' by yourself?" Billy asked, peering down at you as you walked.

"Yeah," you said. "Since Joe joined the gang."

"I see," Billy said, keeping his tone even. But you knew he objected to the principle of it. A woman living alone with no male protection.

"I've been fine," you said, trying to convince both of you. "I keep to myself, y'know? I've always liked that."

"Yeah," he said. His eyes looked sad. "But I imagine it still got lonely."

You were quiet for a moment before responding. "In a way."

He half smiled, looking down as you reached a hill, steadying his motions so he wouldn't fall. "Is that what you've been up to the past little bit? Ridin' and bookkeepin'?"

"Pretty much," you said. "I keep a quiet life. Not like you at all, I'm sure."

He chuckled lightly. "It ain't at all like you're imagining, I'm sure."

"Not from what I've heard," you smiled. "Joe filled me in a bit. Billy the Kid, huh?"

"Hey now," he grinned. "It's William H. Bonney now for all intents and purposes."

"What's the H stand for?" you asked, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

"That's enough outta you," he pushed your arm lightly, and you laughed. The two of you stopped under a tree, sitting down in the shade for a bit. Billy settled in next to you, bending down and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You picked a blue wildflower, twirling the stem between your fingers. It was the same color as the dress you'd been loaned, lighter than the one you had on now, lighter than Billy's shirt. "Barbara..."

"What about her?" he asked, looking at you, his chin remaining on your shoulder.

"I like her," you said, and to your surprise, as you said it you found it was true. Despite her stiffness you appreciated what she'd been through, how she'd been able to find her place here.

"You like everyone Daisy," Billy half-smiled, leaning back against the tree.

"I mean it," you said, mirroring his actions and turning on your side to face him. "She's lovely. I can see why you...like her."

"Why'd you say it like that?" Billy asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You were quiet for a moment, contemplating whether or not you should go there. "I know you slept with her."

He turned his head fully to face you and you looked down at your flower again. Billy used his finger to tilt your chin up. "Daisy how'd you-?"

"The way you looked when she kissed Jesse yesterday," you said softly. "I know you Billy. And that's just how you looked at me after..." You trailed off and looked away.

Billy's arm around you stiffened, but he didn't take it away. "You're right. It did happen once. But...I dunno Daisy," he said tiredly. "I was alone with her after I almost died. The heat of the moment got to me. I didn't know she was with Jesse. And now that you're here-" he paused. "It don't mean what you think it does."

You shook your head. "You're not one to even kiss someone for no reason Billy. I know you care about her."

"She saved my life, of course I care about her," he breathed, meeting your eyes. "But not like you, Daisy. Never like you."

You looked down, feeling emotional. "But you left me."

"Daisy, I had to," he pleaded. "I was wanted, hell I'm still wanted-"

"But you could have told me something, anything instead of making me feel like a warm body," you said, drawing back from him. His arm fell from around you, and he looked at you for a moment, seeming surprised.

But then he nodded somberly. "You're right. You're completely right Daisy. I'm sorry."

Your smile was barely there. "I understand Billy."

Then with that you stood up, going to find your horse.

Joe returned with more than you thought he would have, telling you the fire had consumed a lot of the first floor but not the second. With no structure to stand up on, it had collapsed of course, but he was still able to salvage a few of your dresses, and some of your books.

You'd been thrilled at that, relieved to be able to give Barbara her dress back, thanking her profusely. She'd only smiled tightly and taken it away to wash.

Joe had been right about the law being slow. A week from the fire and you had yet to hear back from them concerning the damage to the property. So, in the meantime, you waited.

In the weeks that followed, you insisted on helping Barbara with the chores and she reluctantly let you. You took your horse out for a ride every day, sometimes without Billy, but more often with.

He started leaving with the gang to help out on jobs. You were surprised to find yourself missing him in the time he was gone. Since Joe was back, he offered you his bed, but you didn't take him up on it, still wary of whatever was happening with Barbara. No matter how casual it may or may not have been, you didn't want to upset her. Even though you could steadily feel old feelings gnawing at you, growing stronger.

You tried to keep a little distance, but it was impossible, his allure drawing you to him naturally. He'd accompany you everywhere; to the well, on your rides. Wherever you were, Billy could usually be found. You knew the rest of the gang noticed, though nobody commented on it. The weeks passed peacefully.

Until one night, when you awoke in a fit of adrenaline and sweat, a dream that felt more like a memory dancing in front of your eyes.

The men...the way they grabbed you...what they would have done to you...

You hugged your arms around yourself, shivering with tears. Even though you now knew it was just a dream, the weight of what had happened was collapsing you. You hadn't told anyone about it, even though you knew Billy was onto you.

Your head whipped to Joe, asleep in his bed. He'd offered it to you of course, but you'd declined just as you had with Billy, not wanting to upheave the house any more than you had.

Joe was the best of brothers to you. Still, you didn't want to tell him about the other events of that day. So, you stood up and went to the hallway, hoping the movement would calm your pounding heart. It didn't, which made you panic even more. You ran your hands over your arms, your breathing not slowing down. The house was quiet, so you did your best to keep it that way.

It became evident quickly that you wouldn't be able to calm yourself on your own. You needed someone near you.

Your feet carried you to the room before you knew it, opening the door and shutting it quietly behind you. When you turned, you were surprised to see Billy sitting up in his bed, the lantern by his bed lit. He frowned in surprise when he saw you. "Daisy, what-" he caught your fearful expression, your heaving chest. Then he opened his arms, recognizing the situation. "C'mere."

Giving a little whimper, you rushed to him, collapsing into his arms. Billy held you tight to him, and when his hand found its usual place behind your head you nearly sobbed with relief. He opened his knees so you could lie between them, against his bare chest as you cried softly.

"Shh Daisy, easy, easy," he murmured, smoothing his hand over your back. "Alright sweetheart, you're safe. You're safe. I've gotcha."

It was the second time he'd used that specific term of endearment, and you clung to him tighter because of it. Billy rubbed your back and rested his cheek against the top of your head. When your crying slowed down, he whispered, "Atta girl, keep it steady f'me? That's it, sweetheart, that's it."

You laid in the comfort of his arms in a haze afterwards, making sure your tizz was well and truly passed. Billy turned you on your side, facing him as he turned on his. He held you in his gaze, one of his arms wrapped loosely under you, the other on your arm, fingers going up and down in a soothing manner.

He reached out that hand, tentatively, and traced your face ever so gently. His roughened finger trailed over your cheek, your hairline, then down your nose. His eyes like the sky followed the path. His palm ended up on your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes locked with his.

"Daisy..." he murmured, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You knew he wanted you to tell him what had happened, why you had stumbled in crying.

"Bad dream," you whispered pathetically, closing your eyes.

Billy said nothing for a moment, and when you opened your eyes, he touched his forehead to yours briefly, a gesture of comfort that worked. "What about?"

You hesitated, sniffling lightly. Telling him sounded dreadful, but it was weighing on you so much that you felt you had no choice. "The day of the fire."

"Ah," Billy nodded respectfully, tucking your hair behind your ear. The more he touched you the better you felt.

"Not about the fire itself though," you said softly.

"Hm?" he prompted, and you wanted to kiss him right then for letting you tell what you wanted.

You closed your eyes briefly before continuing. "The day of the fire...the men who started it..." your voice was becoming higher and more hysterical as you continued, your words pushed together as you tried to get them out as quickly as possible. "They grabbed me...tried to take me somewhere. And one of them touched me-" your voice hitched as more tears fell down your cheeks.

"Oh baby," Billy murmured, and he brought you closer to him, his lips meeting your forehead. Him calling you baby only made you feel safer, more loved. He gathered you closer, so you were pressed right up against him, your hand on his chest. If his hand hadn't already found its place on the back of your head, you would have guided it there. You loved the weight of it, the way it held your face to his chest.

Your hand slid around his chest, under his arm and onto his back so you could hold onto him as well. He nudged his nose against your head, planting another kiss there. Then another. Then another.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he muttered, and you relished the feeling of his big hands on your body with the sole purpose to comfort you. "I'm sorry nobody was there. I'm sorry I wasn't there-"

"It's not your fault Billy," you said, tears still adorning your voice. "You couldn't have known-"

"No, Daisy," he said slightly more firmly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you all this time. I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry we shared something so special and then I hurt you because of it. I'm not sorry we did it, but I am sorry for how I was."

You removed your hand from his back, settling it on his own cheek. Your other hand was wedged between your chests, resting against the sheets. "It's okay Billy. It's all okay now."

He took your hand off his cheek and pressed his lips to your fingers. A wisp of a smile made its way onto your face, and you cuddled close to him. Billy held you tightly in his arms. In that moment, you felt as if he could keep the bad dreams away with only that.

From that night on, you slept in his bed.

You'd start out in your usual place on the floor in Joe's room. Then after you fell asleep, you'd slip from the spot and quietly sneak down the hall to Billy's bed and Billy's arms. There were no more nightmares after that.

It was all very innocent. You'd lay side by side, facing each other, limbs tangling tightly. He'd nudge a few kisses against your forehead soothingly. You'd take his hand in yours and guide it to the back of your head if it wasn't there already. And then the you both would fall asleep, nothing bad to report in the morning.

Billy had never been an early riser. He was always the last one to wake up, always finding some kind of excuse to sleep in. It was something you and Joe had teased him for.

But almost every morning you woke to him watching you, his oceans of eyes sleepy, his hair was a mess. He was so pretty in the morning, with the sunlight spilling through his window onto his skin. The first day this happened you realized that this was how you'd imagined you'd wake up on that night you'd spent together.

Those thoughts had been little bits of gold you'd stored in your heart, secrets you thought would die with you. But now they were real.

And even though most mornings he awoke first, some mornings you did.

On that rare occasion, you'd snuggle deeper into his arms, and he'd stir slightly, his arms tightening around you. But most of the time it was him, and you wondered if his habits had changed when he was away. But thinking back to your first morning here, you knew they hadn't.

On a Tuesday about two months into your stay, it was one of those usual mornings, and you were sprawled on your side, facing away from him. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, your legs tangled with his. You awoke to a shuffling on the bed, and then an arm twined around you and pulled you closer to Billy's warm chest.

"You're too far away," he mumbled sleepily. You turned in his arms to lie on your side and face him. Billy was on his back, looking down at you with a fond smile. He blinked sleepily, and you moved closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek onto him.

"Better?" you propped your chin up on his arm.

"Better," he grinned.

You were just about to settle back into him when the door opened suddenly to reveal Joe on the other side. His eyes widened in shock when he saw you cuddled in Billy's arms, in Billy's bed.

"The hell?" Joe looked utterly confused. A little betrayed, maybe.

Sitting up, you attempted to explain. "I know what this looks like-"

"Billy why're you in bed with my sister?" Joe folded his arms, eyebrows raised, tone sharp.

You looked from Joe to Billy, worried something violent would happen. But finally, Billy responded. "Daisy's been havin' nightmares. I was only makin' sure she slept."

"You have?" Joe frowned. "You ain't ever had many nightmares before little."

It was true. Before the incidents surrounding the fire, you hadn't even dreamed often. You didn't want to tell Joe what happened, but you couldn't lie to him. So, you merely nodded.

Joe's face softened. "'M sorry little. You coulda told me, y'know?"

You bit your lip and nodded again.

"But I understand," your brother affirmed, nodding at Billy. "So long as there's no funny business, yeah?"

"None," Billy nodded back. Despite all this, you knew Joe trusted Billy with you, which was saying a lot. Your brother had a habit of being overprotective.

Joe looked between the two of you again and nodded once more, leaving with that and shutting the door behind him. From that point on you went straight into Billy's room every night.

He became a symbol of comfort to you. You knew his arms were open when you needed them. Things fell back into the way they were before, only this time there was something else between you two.

You felt it in every facet of your being with him. When you'd go for walks in the hills together. When you'd wake up in his arms. When he'd shake a little pepper over your eggs before giving you your plate because he knew you liked them that way. When he'd join you under the shade of a tree and rest his head in your lap. Billy was filling in the cracks that had formed over the months. He was patching you whole.

It was unclear if anyone else noticed, but you knew they didn't not notice. The two of you were drawn together. When Billy would come home from jobs with the gang you'd run to him first. Joe would make a little quip about it before hugging you, a cheeky, knowing smile gracing his lips.

Barbara seemed immune to all of this. She continued as she always did, but you still felt bad, like you'd taken something from her. Even though the first person she'd run to was always Jesse.

You tried to let this information soothe you.

The ranch was finally attended to, and you and Joe made the decision to sell the land. It made you a pretty penny despite all the damage from the fire. That night you'd laid silently beside Billy, too sad to say anything. You'd grown up there, hell, Billy had practically grown up there too. But as you thought of the last somber months you'd spent there; you knew it hadn't been the land that made that time special.

You still had what had made it special.

Jesse became anxious about the location of the gang, so he determined it was time to leave the hideaway behind and set out for another town. You welcomed the change, packing away what little you had and following them.

If you were being honest, as long as you had Billy and Joe you knew you'd be fine. So, you left in good spirits. Barbara parted ways with the gang then, taking a job as a schoolteacher in another town. You knew the two of you would never be close, but you still parted with a smile, and a sincere thank you for all she'd done. Maybe it was your imagination, but her smile seemed a little more genuine as you said goodbye.

"People can't help but like ya Daisy," Billy said when you told him about it. He was riding alongside you behind everyone, the hideaway in the distance behind you. "You're sweet. Not likin' ya feels like hurtin' a butterfly."

The analogy made you smile, a little blush gracing your cheeks. The way he looked at you and talked to you made you feel rare.

Once you got to town, Joe came to a conclusion. While the rest of the gang kept rented rooms at a nearby inn, the two of you used the money from the ranch to buy a nice little piece of land nearby, with an old house already on it. You wouldn't have minded staying at the inn, but Joe insisted, saying he wanted something permanent for his sister. Especially now that they all had steady work. And unlike in the past, it was honest.

Billy seemed especially happy about that, chattering eagerly about how good it'd be now that they were working with the law, not against it. It was endearing how excited he was. Despite the picture wanted posters painted of him, he had a gentle heart, and he never wanted to do any wrong.

The only thing you didn't like about this new setting was that you no longer slept beside him, but your nightmares had disappeared into memories, and you determined you'd be fine. Even though you missed his warmth as the fall bled into winter.

He was still a fixture in your life. His presence was still constant. The gang was all at Joe's and your house often, but Billy was there individually even more.

It was a funny thing, what being around him so often did for you. Previously, you had remembered the childhood love you'd had for him, and it had been painted blue. But in the love you felt for him now, you could feel what you'd had before at the roots. It was a flower that you'd thought had shriveled up and died, but now you realized it was simply dormant, waiting to bloom.

And the more you thought about it, the more you realized you wanted it to.

It was on your mind one night when Joe and the gang were in the kitchen. You and Billy had ventured out to the fireplace, kneeling close to it and talking. It was eerily similar to that night, the one you'd thought of lately more often than you wanted to admit.

"Do ya think you'll stay here?" Billy wondered, bending his knees to rest his arms on them.

"I don't see why not," you said thoughtfully, his blue eyes drawing yours to them like they always did. "Joe's here, you're here...I can see myself being happy here."

"I think ya are happy here Daisy," Billy said, a little smile coming to his face as he said it. "I ain't seen you this happy in a while."

He was right. You hadn't been this content since your father died. "it's the same for you Billy," you commented, shifting closer to him for warmth. "You're not as restless as you used to be."

"Well, no," he said, grinning as he looked into the fire. "There's lotsa reasons for that."

"Like...?" you prompted, tilting your head playfully.

"Well for starters, I ain't breakin' the law to make money no more," Billy said, and you nodded. "There ain't no pressure to move around so much. But also..." he turned his head to look at you. "Havin' you around. Havin' Joe around. It's made all the difference."

You were quiet for a moment, the sentiment warming you more than the fire ever could. "Having me around?"

"'Course," he said, reaching out and tugging on your arm to bring you closer to him. One of his arms slid around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Ya mean a lot to me Daisy. Ya know that, right?"

"It's still nice to hear it," you smiled, settling into his side. "You...you mean a lot to me too. Always have."

"Yeah?" he looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, you're a sweetheart anyways. My sweetheart."

The way he said it implied something else, but you didn't correct him, only lifting your head from his shoulder and looking into his eyes again. The fire was reflecting off his face, making him look softer. You looked from his eyes to his lips. There was that magnetic draw again. "And are you mine?"

He paused, looking like he'd been caught doing something, but then he slowly nodded, searching your eyes. "I've always wanted to be yours."

Your heart fluttered and you thought for a moment you were in a dream. But when he brought his hand to your cheek, you knew you weren't.

Billy acted before you could, leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to yours. His hand slid to its spot in your hair. You melted.

His kiss was brief, but it imprinted itself on your being. You leaned into it, your hand resting on his chest as your lips moved against his. It was so impossible, all of it, and yet.

When he pulled back, you stayed in your haven between his arms. He pressed one, then two light kisses against your soft smile and you saw stars.

Then Joe shouted something from the other room and Billy looked up, sighing and shaking his head. He stood up, bringing you with him. His lips found your brow lightly, a silent promise that you'd talk about this later. Then he took your hand and lead you into where everyone else was. It was good he had a hold on you, because you weren't sure you could have found your way there on your own. The kiss had left you engrossed in a dreamy haze.

He sat at the table with everyone else, and when he saw there weren't any open chairs, pulled you down to sit on his thigh. Joe raised an eyebrow, but that was all. You were content to lean against Billy for the rest of the night.

It was hard to sleep when you tried after everyone left. Billy hadn't kissed you goodbye, but he'd held you close for a bit and said he'd see you tomorrow.

All these months, all this time, you hadn't been sure if he'd held onto the feelings of the past. But you supposed it didn't matter now, because he felt this way right now. He wanted you close to him as you did.

The next day you woke early. You decided to get a few errands done as a way to divert yourself. You'd see Billy later.

It was a pleasant ride into town. The winter sun was warm on your bundled up frame, and you enjoyed it. The snowstorms of late had often kept you indoors, so it was nice to have this pocket of time.

You tied up your horse and went into the general store, a list prominent in your head. Grain, candles, matches-

You halted in your tracks when you opened the door.

There were already customers inside. But you recognized them.

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Before one of them could turn around and see you, you stepped out, heart pounding a hole into your chest. Your ears were ringing with the memory. The world seemed to spin. Why are they here? How did they get here?

Putting a hand to your heart to try and calm it, you looked around, spotting the inn the gang was staying at. Billy, you needed Billy.

You ran across the street, opening the door and realizing you didn't know which room he was staying in. As you wandered in frantically you found it didn't matter. He was sitting at a table with Charlie, talking about something, his back to you.

Charlie saw you though, and must have noticed your distress, because he nudged Billy, nodding at you. Billy turned around, and instantly stood, meeting you halfway and gathering you into his arms. "Daisy, Daisy, what happened? What's the matter?"

He sounded concerned, and you thanked the heavens for him. Your ear was against his heart, the steady thumping soothing you almost immediately. "They're...they're here," you mumbled weakly

"Who's here Daisy?" His hand. His hand on your head. It felt like it could shield you from everything.

You lifted your head, but his hand stayed there. Your breathing was still frantic. "The men...from the fire..."

His eyes darkened. "Where?"

"The general store," you breathed, and he gritted his teeth, looking up at the window. You tugged at his shirt. It was the striped one, the one you'd confessed to him you loved.

He looked back at you, his eyes softening. Then he moved, setting you on the chair he'd been sitting in previously, kneeling in front of you. "I need you to stay here, alright? I don't want you to ride back without me." Billy looked up, at someone behind you and summoned them. "Mrs. Peña?"

An older Mexican woman bristled over, and Billy said something to her in Spanish. She looked at you, looking confused as she responded. He nodded, squeezing your hand and saying something back.

Over the years of knowing him, you'd only picked up on a little Spanish, jealous of his ability to learn the language so easily. As Billy and Mrs. Peña conversed; you only caught a few words. Scared, safe, needs, help.

The older woman gave Billy a fond smile and nodded. He returned it, then turned his attention back to you. He kissed the fingers of the hand he was still holding. "You're gonna stay here, okay? Mrs. Peña and her husband own the inn. They're gonna keep an eye out for you."

"What are you going to do?" you whispered, your eyes wide in horror as you sifted through possibilities.

"Don't pay any mind to it," he said, squeezing your hand from where he was kneeling still. "I won't be long."

And with that, he stood up, kissed your forehead, and beckoned to Charlie, who followed him out the door. Your breaths were still fast as you watched him leave, and then you turned to Mrs. Peña. She gave you a warm smile and took your hand. You accepted it, stood up, and followed her to the kitchen, to a chair close to the sink. She gestured at it. "Sit."

You did as she asked, watching her flit around, preparing and sorting. Trying to remember the right words, you asked her in very broken Spanish if there was anything you could do to help.

She smiled and shook her head, motioning for you to stay. But you insisted. "¿Por favor?"

Mrs. Peña seemed to understand that you needed a distraction, so she took pity on you, waving you over to where she was sorting vegetables.

Billy didn't return for several hours, and so you accompanied Mrs. Peña, helping her with anything she'd let you. She spoke a little English, and you a little Spanish, so you managed. She was a very warm lady, and you felt bad for burdening her, telling her so as you helped her fold sheets in the empty front room that evening. But she shook her head, patting your hand fondly. "Eres una chica dulce."

That made you smile.

It was dark when they came back. You were surprised to see it wasn't just Billy and Charlie, but the entirety of the gang, including Joe. Mrs. Peña gave your hand another pat, and took the folded sheets away, leaving you with everyone. Billy stopped her and whispered something to her that she nodded and smiled at.

You stood up, and Joe came over, putting his arms around you and hugging you for a long time. He smiled sadly when he pulled back. "It's all okay now, little." He looked over at Billy, nodding. "Reckon you'll wanna stay here tonight. I'll bring your horse back." Joe kissed your forehead and left.

The interaction was confusing but touching. You watched your brother leave, questions swirling through your mind like a flurry. Then you turned and looked at Billy, who reached a hand out for you. "C'mere Daisy."

Of course you went to him, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you upstairs to his room. He shut the door behind you and locked it. It was only then that you noticed his knuckles were stained with dry blood.

Gasping in horror, you took the other one in your free hand, holding them up to examine them. "Billy...Billy what did you do?"

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. "It's not all my blood."

That only worried you further. "What on earth were you doing?"

Billy sighed, looking down for a second, reluctant to tell you. "We took care of the men who started the fire. You ain't gotta worry 'bout them anymore Daisy."

"What do you mean you took care of them?" you asked desperately.

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. "That's not for you to know. But it's all okay. You're safe now. That's all that matters."

You wanted to push the issue, but you realized there was probably a reason he wasn't telling you. So, you gave up. "Okay."

Billy pulled you to sit on his bed, your knees touching, and just watched you, checking for any hint of distress. "How're ya doing Daisy?"

Surprisingly, you found your token answer to be correct. "I'm okay."

He smiled briefly in acknowledgement. "Good. I want ya to be okay."

There was a comfortable quiet for a moment between you two. You didn't want to look at anything but him, didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Right now, he was your center, the very thing keeping you from floating into the sky.

Billy's hand moved to your hips, pulling you in closer. His eyes found yours as he said, "I want you to know I'm always gonna protect ya. You have Joe but ya also have me. You've always had me."

"Always," you repeated softly, and he smiled. His other hand reached up to tuck some of your hair back.

"Daisy..." he started, and you felt it. That fluttering, that warmth in your chest that he only seemed to be the cause of. "Did ya know I've always loved you?"

You tilted your head, waiting for him to explain, ignoring the butterflies sprouting in your heart.

He smiled in a nostalgic way. "You were a friend. A good friend. But I woke up one day and ya just...weren't that anymore."

"How long?" you whispered.

"Years, Daisy," he brought both his hands to your cheeks. "Years 'n years. Dunno if you remember awhile back, but me 'n Joe were comin' back from doin' somethin' in town, trouble probably." He paused to smile, shaking his head. "You were up in the branches of a tree, readin'. Looked real pretty. Think ya had a flower in your hair." Billy breathed a laugh, looking down for a second. "Mighta been a daisy. 'N ya looked up, smiled at me. And I knew I'd love ya forever."

Your lips parted slightly at the confession, and you felt a sweet smile spreading over your face. A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, and you pulled him in, kissing him softly. He made a noise of surprise but indulged, his hands falling from your face to your waist, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

"I remember that day," you said honestly, looking up at him when your lips parted. "Because a few hours later you asked me to go for a ride and you pulled me off my horse and not only did we fall down the hill, but I fell in love with you."

His smile was radiant, and you didn't need to ask if he remembered. Billy pulled you back in, kissing you fervently. He loved you. You could feel it. No need to wonder anymore. His kisses felt like a promise. I will always love you.

For hours after, there was nothing else but him.

Nothing but him as he kissed you like you were disappearing.

Nothing but him as he lowered you down onto his bed and slid the sleeves of your dress down your arms.

Nothing but him as he took his time, holding you so gently it made your head spin.

Nothing but him as he dipped his head briefly between your thighs, making your back arch and your hand squeeze around his. He'd given it to you to hold because he loved you.

Nothing but him as you and him did something you'd only done once before, but this time he wasn't going to leave.

Nothing but him as you did something you'd done many times before, nestling between his arms as you fell asleep.

When the morning came you knew it was far from the last one you'd have like this, but you savored it anyways, burrowing into his chest and hiding from the world. He peppered sweet kisses over your face, asking how you'd slept, asking for five more minutes before you both had to get up. And so you gave them to him. And five more minutes. And then another five minutes.

Because you were finally his. And he was finally yours.

Next part

[xjulixred45x]

(In dead royalty au)What would happen if consort was the child of some deity(maybe calypso?) And does the same as demeter? Causing havoc to have her child back

That's a good question!

ok, first of all, consort is probably a demi-god (since Calypso's island was found by mostly mortal men, I like to think that some actually wanted to stay and Calypso got her due character development. I hate her, but because I want something better).

I especially like an AU where Calypso and Antinous (one of Penelope's suitors, Odysseus' wife) meet and fall in love. Having a family together. So I think I'll go that route this time.

Calypso is definitely what the popular media thinks Demeter is. She's a loving mother, yes, but also very jealous and hates the gods with a passion for locking her away in Ogygia (and by extension her family).

and that hate increases considerably when her oldest baby manages to get out ALONE to marry a complete stranger:)

Calypso and Antinous probably didn't even realize what happened and searched for Consort for several days in Ogygia without success. So Atlas (Calypso's father) could have told her what happened and she was ANGRY.

I imagine she was so angry that she managed, even if temporarily, to cross the island's barrier and go to Olympus to complain to Zeus, who obviously wasn't going to give in to her demands.

And look, Calypso is ALTAS' daughter, who literally holds up the sky, she can probably do some pretty destructive shit like altering the tides, generating tidal waves, tornadoes, etc. all in order to get her daughter back.

Meanwhile Zagreus and Consort are not aware of what's going on outside, too busy getting to know each other better (and Zag with work because people die more out of nowhere).

It gets to a point where the gods realize they can't negotiate with Calypso, they have to do it with Zagreus.

I think it depends on whether we're talking about normal Dead Royalty Zagreus or the yandere.

The yandere would probably want to talk to Calypso personally to "discuss the problem" and would threaten her that if she didn't stop her tantrum he would make sure Consort never leaves the underworld. Ever.

Calypso might be very powerful, but she can't interfere with the world of the dead (or get there unless she dies, since she can only leave her island a limited number of times).

Obviously this would only fuel Calypso's distrust of the gods, but she would take every opportunity to see her baby.

The normal Dead Royalty Zagreus would first try to talk to Consort about it, he would want to know if they would rather go back to their mother or if they would rather stay with him. It could serve as a nice moment of confession when Consort decides to stay.

Then they would have to try to negotiate with Calypso so that she doesn't kill mortals, but Zagreus realizes that the only way to do that is to make her see Consort, and lets her do it.

Calypso stops the natural disasters the moment she sees Consort, but it definitely takes a lot, a lot of work to convince her to let her return to the Underworld.

They make a deal to come see her once a month, but if they take longer she is allowed to cause a tornado or flood😅

Calypso continues to reprimand Zagreus, but she is starting to see that it was no more hiz fault than it was Zeus'. Besides, she can't complain when her baby looks so happy.

In short, a lot of mess, but nothing that can't be fixed.

________

(ESPAÑOL)

ok, primero que nada, probablemente consorte sea semi-dios (ya que la isla de Calypso era encontrada por hombres mortales principalmente, me gusta pensar que alguno realmente se quiso quedar y Calypso tuvo su merecido desarrollo de personaje. la odio, pero porque quiero algo mejor).

me gusta especialmente un AU donde Calypso y Antinous(uno de los pretendientes de Penelope, la esposa de Odiseo) se conocen y enamoran. teniendo una familia juntos. asi que creo que voy por esa ruta en esta ocacion.

Calypso definitivamente es lo que la media popular cree que es Demeter. es una madre amorosa, si, pero tambien muy celosa y odia a los dioses con pasion por haberla encerrado en Ogigya(y por extensión a su familia).

y ese odio aumenta considerablemente cuando su bebe mayor logra salir SOLO para casarse con un completo desconocido:)

Calypso y Antinous probablemente nisiquiera se dieron cuenta de lo que paso y buscaron a Consorte varios dias en Ogygia sin exito. entonces Atlas(padre de Calypso) le pudo haber dicho lo que paso y ella estaba ENCOLERIZADA.

Me imagino que estaba tan enojada que logro, aunque sea de forma temporal, atravesar la barrera de la isla e ir al Olimpo a reclamarle a Zeus, que obviamente no iba ceder a sus demandas.

y miren, Calypso es hija de ALTAS, que literalmente sostiene el cielo, probablemente ella puede hacer mierda muy destructiva como alterar las mareas, generar maremotos, tornados, etc. todo con tal de recuperar a su hija.

mientras tanto Zagreus y Consorte no son concientes de lo que esta pasando afuera, muy ocupados conociendose mejor(y Zag con el trabajo porque de la nada la gente muere mas).

llega a un punto donde los dioses al darse cuenta que no pueden negociar con Calypso, tienen que hacerlo con Zagreus.

creo que depende de si hablamos de Zagreus de Dead Royalty normal o el yandere.

el Yandere probablemente quiera hablar personalmente con Calypso para "discutir el problema" y la amenazaría con que si no paraba su berrinche el se aseguraria que Consorte nunca dejara el inframundo.jamas.

Calypso podra ser muy poderosa, pero no puede interferir con el mundo de los muertos (o llegar hasta alla a menos que muera, ya que solo puede dejar su isla un numero limitado de veces).

obviamente esto solo alinentaria el recelo de Calypso a los dioses, pero aprovecharia cada oportunidad de ver a su bebe.

El Zagreus de Dead Royalty normal trataria primero que nada hablarlo con Consorte, el querria saber si ellos prefieren volver con su madre o si prefieren quedarse con el. podria servir como un momento lindo de confesion cuando Consorte deciden quedarse.

después tocaria tratar de negociar todos en conjunto con Calypso para que no mate a los mortales, pero Zagreus se da cuenta de que la unica forma de hacerlo es haciendo que vea a Consorte, y la deja hacerlo.

Calypso detiene los desastres naturales en el momento que ve a Consorte, pero definitivamente toma mucho, mucho trabajo convencerla de que la deje volver al Inframundo.

hacen un trato de venir a verla una vez cada mes, pero que si se tardan mas ella tiene permitido causar un tornado o inundacion😅

Calypso sigue recintiendo a Zagreus, pero esta empezando a ver que no fue mas su culpa de lo que fue de Zeus. aparte de que no puede quejarse cuando su bebe se ve tan feliz.

en resumen, mucho desmadre, pero nada que no se pueda arreglar.

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