#about three blog name changes later

[toxicanonymity]

Bodies.

7.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader

reader has no physical description, pics are for mood

raider master | playlists: raider, sweet pea (smut) SUMMARY: Uninvited guests make a nice evening devolve into disaster, but when they're gone, Joel takes a big step 💋 A/N: follows Hunger. Ty to this ask about flirting; arm anon; @gracieispunk for the B/W pic; @xdaddysprincessxx, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, and others who've discussed his name, @javier-penas-wifexx420 for asks, @milla-frenchy for listening, everyone for your patience and support. @toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs. WARNINGS: I8+ canon typical violence, tension, possessive/aggressive reader, angst, self-harm scare, references to skin carving scars, hurt/comfort, Joel is a little grumpy, exhibitionism, grinding, dacryphilia, leather choker, bj with ball sucking, unsafe P in V, creampie, obsessive unhealthy toxic dynamic, Joel can hold reader, reader can hang onto Joel.

Raider POV of smut.

The dog has stuck around for more than 24 hours now. He's a good dog. He’s working on a duck foot while you, Joel, and Carter eat by the fire. The evening air is cool but mild. The sky is clear. 

Joel and his men spent most of the day working on the van and looking for parts.  The dog sat with you while you read a book. You made a wildflower crown and put it around the dog’s neck. When one of the men walked in your direction on his way to the woods, the dog jumped in front of you and growled. Joel looked impressed. 

-

Now the fire is keeping you toasty as the sky fades from blue to black. 

“Tommy!” you call out to the dog to see if he reacts. 

Carter chokes on his food, but quickly recovers. His eyes are wide.

“What’d you say?” Joel asks, ominously quiet. When you don’t respond, he reaches over to gently turn your head toward him.  The look on his face makes your stomach turn. 

“I thought you’d like that one since it’s a type of gun,” you explain.

“No.” He shakes his head, “I don't like it.” He lets go of your face. “Namin’ the goddamn dog,” he grumbles under his breath. He puts down his plate and stands up.

You’re afraid to ask, but when Joel silently walks off toward the woods, you look at Carter. He asks, “He tell ya anything about his family? His brother?”

Your face is hot and your tummy feels dizzy. “He said he didn’t have any family.” 

Carter raises his eyebrows, then he's quiet for a moment and stares at the ground.  His face becomes studious. 

“What,” you ask. 

“Ain't my place,” Carter looks down apologetically.  

A few seconds later, watching your face, Carter adds the obvious: “I wouldn't go there.”

"Yeah," you whisper.  Anything about his family. The question weighs on you. You really don't know Joel, do you? 

Carter changes the subject. “He’ll come around on the dog.”

You perk up. “You think?” 

Carter nods, then adds, “Sorry ‘bout Daisy,” squinting solemnly. 

“Thanks,” you nod, then can’t resist asking, “Joel wasn’t. . .married, was he?”

Carter shakes his head and doesn’t elaborate. At least there’s that. But still. His family. 

You're unsettled, and you try to distract yourself with other dog names, mentally going through a list. Bullet. Clover. Duck. Joel doesn’t have to know he has a name. 

Apparently, Carter is thinking about the same thing. He tries to cheer you up. “Gun names, huh? Pistol, Rifle--”

“--Rifle??” You crack a smile. 

“Hey, there's no bad ideas,” Carter laughs, and you giggle. 

“What about Bullet–”

“--Shh,” Carter nods toward the tree line. Joel is on his way back. 

As you finish eating, Carter tries to make small talk with Joel to break the tension. Joel doesn't say much. You ask Carter how he makes his jerky, and he walks you through it. It doesn't sound hard. You could probably do it yourself. 

—--Carter—--

The three of you are sitting outside by the fire after dinner. You’re on Joel’s knee, and Joel slides his hand up your dress a little bit. Carter averts his eyes and watches the dog work on his duck foot, making happy little growls and wagging his tail. Hard to say whether you and Joel are about to go inside and fuck, or if Joel’s just copping a feel like he does twenty times a day. 

You have Joel wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never been like this before. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never made a girl his in the years Carter’s known him. Joel’s always been a man of focus. He’s always been a tough guy. He’s always had a temper, but at this point, he’d tear a man to shreds just for looking at you wrong. It’s scary, and it’s a lot of mess to clean up. Carter’s seen Joel do some crazy shit, but never as crazy as turning one of his own men into a scarecrow for an off-hand comment. Carter knows Joel better than anyone, and it’s clear to him that Joel is crazy about you.

The dog drops the duck foot, growls and barks, then takes off and runs toward the back of the trailer. You get off Joel’s knee to go after the dog, and Joel’s arm around your middle stops you. As Carter stands up and puts on his rifle, a high-pitched shriek comes from behind the trailer. Joel grabs his rifle off the log, and Carter says, “it’s cool,” holding his hand out. He won’t hesitate to yell if he needs Joel. “Go inside, sweet pea,” Joel tells you. You take your time going. 

Carter goes around the back of the trailer and trains his rifle on two figures cresting the hill. The dog has stopped short of them and is keeping his distance, but he’s still barking and looks ready to pounce, like he’s holding himself back. 

“DON’T MOVE,” Carter booms, then keeps his rifle fixed on the pair and slowly approaches them. When Carter reaches the dog, the dog’s barking fades into a low growl. 

They drop their backpacks and put their hands up. 

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Carter asks. 

The woman clears her throat and follows it with a demure smile.  “Went huntin’, came back ’n our house was taken.” 

Carter nods and looks back and forth between the two of them. They’re both decent looking. Some resemblance, maybe siblings. 

“What do y’all want,” Carter asks, then spits over his shoulder. 

“Nothin’,” the man claims. “Just cuttin’ through on our way to the road.” His eyes pan down Carter’s shoulders and arms. Carter squares his shoulders and adjusts his grip on the gun. 

Carter nods hesitantly. “Can ya hang tight for me? Don’t want ya walkin’ into gunfire.” 

They nod in agreement with a hint of fear. They shouldn’t be trouble. They aren’t carrying much. 

Carter walks backwards for a few slow steps, then nods and turns around toward the trailer. Carter sees you spying in the kitchen window and gives you a reassuring nod as he goes around the trailer to talk to Joel. 

-

"They're alright, I think," Carter tells Joel. 

"What do they want," Joel grumbles.

"Nothin'. . . Cuttin' through on their way to the road."

Joel nods. 

“Lost their house, didn’t say who took it.” 

Joel’s brow furrows and he nods. “Armed?” 

“Not heavily,” Carter answers. 

“Bring’em around. Let’s find out who took their house.”

“You got it,” Carter says. 

—---- 🌸you 🌸 —---

You move to the window facing the yard and the fire pit with logs around it. As they walk around the trailer, you overhear that they’ve been traveling most of the day.  When they stop by the fire, you wait a few minutes, thinking they’ll leave. Then they take a seat, and the woman sits on the log next to Joel’s, on the end of the log closest to him. Your chest tightens. When she smiles at him, you scoff out loud to yourself. You start to go out the front door, then stop and go to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and open the flannel. You run your finger over the faint, healed letters on your skin, and you leave your chest exposed. You adjust your thigh holster, then go outside. 

When the door opens, Carter looks over his shoulder and announces, “There she is.”

Joel introduces you. “This is, uh. . .” 

“Jill,” she pipes in. 

“Ron,” the man nods at you. 

A couple. They must be a couple. They look a little alike, but not enough to be siblings. Joel leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped, connecting with your eyes for a moment, sharing something near a smile before his eyes fade back to serious. 

Joel doesn’t make room for you in his lap, but he doesn’t tell you to go back inside either. He looks alert and on guard. There are four logs and five of you. You sit on Joel’s log and feel satisfied when he doesn’t scoot toward Jill to make more room. He doesn’t mind you being right up against him. Carter’s on the log to your left. Jill talks about their house and what was going on when they got back from their hunting trip. Ron is quieter. He glances at Carter a few times. Jill keeps looking at Joel. She talks too much.

Jill says they saw Infected behind the trailer park. Joel and Carter look at each other. Your stomach twists, but you study her face, and you don’t trust her. Attention. She wants attention. She wants Joel’s attention. Joel is better than Ron – bigger, stronger, better looking. There were no Infected. She’s making it up for attention. 

Everyone is quiet for what feels like a full minute. You look her dead in the eye and break the silence with a soft, matter-of-fact, “No you didn’t.”  Joel gives you a cautionary look, and you add, “We would’ve seen'em. We were there yesterday.” 

Jill raises her eyebrows, bemused.  “Just one,” she admits with a little smile. “My brother took care of it.” She nods to Ron, and the fact that they’re siblings makes you hate her.  

“Where,” Joel asks flatly. You wish he wouldn’t speak to her at all. 

“Woods behind the junkyard,” she answers. “Thought ya’d wanna know,” she shrugs. It’s quiet again. Nothing but the fire crackling and the dog growling happily. 

“Thanks,” Carter mumbles. 

Jill’s gaze lingers on Joel. She seems pleased with herself. Joel looks away, sits back, and crosses his arms. Now she’s checking out his arms as they bulge out with his hands under them. Your heart races. Anger simmers under your ribs. 

"Bet ya could handle anything that comes over that hill," she purrs at Joel. Your nostrils flare. Your eyes are glued to her. You don’t blink. She looks at Joel’s pants and wets her lips. Your heart skips a beat. It feels like a personal attack. You pop up from the log. 

Joel makes room in his lap and looks at you as he replies, "Carter here could handle'em, too,” with a nod to his left. 

Joel must have expected you to sit on his knee like you were before they showed up.  He clears his throat as it becomes clear you’re going to fully straddle him. His nose twitches and his eyes sparkle. He puts his arms around you loosely. His hands rest on your back to help you balance. You scoot closer and he helps you settle in so your crotch rests on his. Your head is in the crook of his neck, facing toward Jill to keep an eye on her. It doesn’t take long for a familiar bulge to twitch under you.  

Your arms are around Joel. Your hand runs over the handgun in the back of his pants, and he tenses. 

Jill has the nerve to speak again. “That can’t be comfortable,” she laughs.

“You can’t be serious,” you snap back. 

“Shhhh,” Joel whispers into your hair. “‘S’okay, baby.”  

“I’m comfortable,” you tell Joel.

“I know, sweet pea.” He nuzzles his nose at the top of your ear. “‘s’okay, baby,” he whispers. You rock your hips into him, feeling him grow harder. He pulls you tight, adjusting your weight. He moves one hand to your thigh. You grind yourself into him and he lets out a little “mm.” 

“Um, okay,” she mumbles in disgust. 

You snarl and turn your head away from her, back toward Joel. Then you turn your head toward Carter. Carter is absentmindedly examining the bite on his hand. Ron is spaced out, watching Carter’s face. Then, his eyes fall down to Carter’s lap. 

“You’re bit,” Jill announces. “Ron, he’s bit!” 

Ron snaps out of his daze, sits up self-consciously, and when his eyes fall on Carter’s hand, his face hardens.

Carter protests, “It’s not–” 

“--It was the dog,” your head snaps back toward Jill. “It doesn’t look anything like Infected.” She just wants attention. She wants drama. 

“It was the dog,” Joel repeats, unamused. It sounds like a warning. Joel’s hand on your thigh nudges the gun loose from your holster. Your hand wraps around the handle of the gun in the back of Joel’s pants. 

“Lemme see it,” Ron demands.  He stands up and points his gun at Carter.  He snarls with a look of disgust. His face has completely transformed since a moment ago.

“SIT DOWN,” Joel booms and grabs the gun out of your holster. 

Carter starts to offer, “I’ll show-”

“No ya won’t,” Joel snaps as he stands up with you still wrapped around him. Joel points the gun at Ron. “Come into my yard, orderin’ us around?” Joel’s deep voice vibrates in your ear, then he whispers, “Go inside,” as he tries to let you down. You take the gun out of the back of his pants. “Inside, now.” You put your feet on the ground. 

“Nobody owns this land,” Ron laughs. 

“C’mon, man, y’all know how it works,” Carter seems to try to de-escalate. “Show some respect.” 

You slowly, carefully recede into the shadows, but you don’t go inside.  

Jill points her gun at Carter and demands, “Show us.” With everyone else’s eyes fixed tensely on each other, you can approach her from behind, undetected.  Two guns are pointed at Carter and one at Ron. Carter reaches for his rifle, and Ron braces his own gun with both hands. Ron cocks the hammer, and you quietly approach Jill from behind. 

Ron adjusts his finger on the trigger, and Joel shoots him in the head.  Jill screams. 

It all happens in an instant: You lunge forward, tackling her to the ground, making her drop her gun.  You could shoot her in the head, but something makes you toss your gun aside. You can't stop yourself from putting your hands around her throat.  She claws at your chest and breasts. She slaps you, and it stings.  You elbow her in the face, keeping one hand on her neck. She keeps clawing at you. “Stupid whore,” she spits. 

“I'm only his,” you snap back. She laughs. “And he’s mine,” you pant and put your palm over her face, covering as much of it as you can, putting all your weight on her.  Before she can bite you, Joel’s massive hands are firm around your arms, pulling you off. You resist, and he wraps an arm around your middle. 

“‘S’okay,” he repeats as he pulls you off, and lifts you into standing.  “Go inside.”

You hesitate and he firmly adds, “Now. I'll handle this.” He gives you a look that says he means it.  Then he turns his attention to Jill.  She coughs as you walk away. She whimpers and plays up how injured she is. Pathetic. 

“Hey,” Joel’s voice softens for her.  “You’ll be alright,” he tells her. You glance back and he’s what? He’s straddling her. He has his hands on her face. Is he . . .stroking her hair? You can’t see well enough. Your chest burns, and you start to turn around completely, wanting to approach them.  

But Carter whispers, “C’mon, let’s go,” and gently takes your elbow. 

Maybe it’s for the best. You walk with Carter in a daze. Maybe you were seeing things. No, Joel is comforting her. Your Joel is straddling and comforting the woman who just slapped you and called you a whore. 

“It's okay,” Joel reassures Jill again, then you hear the loud crack of her neck snapping. 

You feel a lot of things. Joy, relief, guilt–not for being happy, but for doubting Joel. 

Carter opens the trailer door and you go inside. 

-

For a few minutes, you just sit at the table. Your relief at Jill’s demise quickly fades when you realize she died thinking Joel liked her. Joel acting sweet with her even for a few seconds was more than she deserved. 

Now you can't calm down. All your muscles are tense. You start to cry, then you go to get a glass of water. Your hand is shaking and you can hardly hold the glass. You want to throw it, but you put it down, still empty, on the counter. You take a deep breath, bury your mouth in your shoulder, then scream as loud as you can, until you're out of air and your throat is sore. You cough and spit over the sink, nauseous from the effort. Then you slump down onto the kitchen floor in tears. 

Almost as soon as you hit the floor, the front door opens. It's not Joel, it's Carter. 

“What happened?” Carter rushes over to you.

“Where's Joel?”

“Haulin’ a body.” 

“Which body? Don't let him touch her!”

He looks at you, stunned for a second, then says, “Not hers.” 

“You promise?” you try to choke back tears. 

“God damn, you're both losin’ it,” Carter mutters to himself. Then he hesitantly reaches for your shoulder. “Shhh, it's okay.” 

You lunge toward him on your knees and let yourself fall onto his chest.  He looks over his shoulder then hesitantly hugs you. “Okay,” he whispers with his hands very lightly touching your back but not resting their full weight. He gives you a moment, then clears his throat. “I've gotta. . . ” He lets go, stands up, and fills the glass of water.  “Here.” He puts it on the table, then comes back to you. 

“Been a long day, huh?” Carter asks. He squats down and takes your elbow in his hand. “C’mon.” You wipe your eyes on your flannel and stand up. He guides you to the table with his hand on your back and pulls out a chair for you. He leaves you at the table with your water. 

—--

You sit there for a minute, sipping your water. Then go to the bathroom to splash your face. You stop crying. You fix your hair. But your eyes are still misty.  You look at your chest in the mirror. She scratched you. You can see a couple of her scratch marks better than Joel’s name. Your chest heats up as you stare at it, and your heart beats faster. You take calming breaths. You want her to go away. You don’t want anyone on your skin but Joel. You dab your chest with a cold washcloth. The worst scratch is right over the ‘J’.  

You open the medicine cabinet, don’t find anything useful, and close it. You go to the kitchen and find a pocket knife in one of the drawers. You bring it back to the bathroom and open the sharpest blade. What if you just. . .if you make the ‘J’ a little better, maybe. It’s like she goes away.  How should you do it? You look down at yourself. You can’t really see. You look in the mirror and bring the knife to your chest. The hand-eye coordination is hard in the mirror.

You’re looking in the mirror, holding the pocket knife in your hand, when the front door opens and slams shut. Joel’s boots thud, then stop. He says your name.  “You okay?” 

You sniffle.  He approaches the bathroom door. It's not shut. You move toward the door to shut it, but you're too late. Joel stops it from closing. He's so much stronger than you, he pushes it open with ease, then his arms wrap you in a hug and the force of it walks you backward toward the sink. 

You still have the knife open in your hand. As his arms tighten, you whisper, “Careful,” and hold your hand away. 

He pulls away, looks you over, and looks at your hand. “Hell are ya doin’,” he mutters. 

You turn back toward the mirror and stroke the ‘J’. “Making it better?” 

“Makin’ it. .  .” 

Your eyes water again as you face the mirror fully. Joel turns toward the mirror, too, standing behind you. You run your fingers over your chest with one hand and hold the knife with the other. 

Joel's face changes when he realizes what you're doing. He grabs your wrist so hard you reflexively drop the knife and it clatters into the sink. “No.”

He picks it up, closes it, and puts it behind the faucet. He looks at your face in the mirror. “Can't let ya do that.” 

“You said people can’t see it.”

“Told ya we’d figure somethin’ else out.”

“Like what?” 

Joel runs his hand over your chest, and his thumb lingers on the scratch over the J. His nostrils flare, his head tilts down, and his eyes darken under his brow. “This from her?”

You nod.

Joel sighs and steps over to the bathtub. He starts a shower. He takes his shirt off over his back. You back away toward the door, and start to give him some space.

“Whoa, nuh-uh” Joel stops you. “Did I say leave?” 

“Sorry.”

“Take your clothes off.” He sits on the toilet to untie his boots, then slips out of them and takes off his socks. 

“Ya know, ya came out there. Got her all worked up,” he grumbles. What? That’s not fair.

“I just wanted you.”

“You were starin’ right at her, sweet pea.”

“I just wanted to be on you, wanted to touch you,” you insist. 

“She wanted her grubby hands on you.”

“You think that's what she wanted?”

“And she got it, didn't she?” Joel asks rhetorically, eyes fixed on your chest again. He clenches his jaw at the sight of her touch. He nods toward the shower. “That’s yours.”

“Can I have a bath?” You know it’s a long shot. He’s not in the mood to wait for water to boil. 

“Fire's out and we’re outta gas.  Gonna be cold either way.”  

You brace yourself for the water. Joel remains seated on the closed toilet and holds your hand to help you balance as you step into the tub. You're far enough back that the water only hits from your abdomen down. It's not quite as bad as you expect, but gives you a chill all over. He scans your body as it prickles in goosebumps and your nipples pebble. He reaches behind you for the soap, then lathers a washcloth. He starts with your chest. The scrape stings. 

“She wanted you, not me,” you mutter, wincing at the echo of your own words under the light beating of the water. Joel slows down and you continue, “She was looking at you, not me.” He stops the washcloth on your clavicle. Lather pours between your breasts and trickles down your sternum. 

Joel squints at you, looks from your mouth to your tits, swallows, and refocuses on the task, adjusting the washcloth in his hand. 

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, sweet pea,” he murmurs and begins to slide the cloth slowly across your skin. 

It’s nice to hear, but it’s not enough. Your eyes feel weak. “Well, I do worry about it,” you croak and feel the tears coming back. 

He adjusts himself, then sighs. “You always cry in the shower?” 

The coldness stings.

“Are you mad at me,” you ask shakily.

Joel curses himself under his breath. His brow furrows at your breasts and he braces his wet hand on his knee. “No, baby.” His eyes rise to meet yours, and he cups your cheek. “No. . .Just tired. . .” He searches your face. “Too many bodies in those woods. Gettin’ old.” You sniffle. You start mentally going through the bodies, and your head hurts at the thought. Joel says, “and ya can’t get in my shot like that, sweet pea.” You relax a little more. Your tears wane at the thought that he was already planning to kill her. 

Joel stands up, hands you the washcloth, and starts to undo his jeans. You watch his pants come down over his crotch, a sight that always makes your breath hitch. “Face the water,” he mumbles, and you obey, staying far enough back not to get your head wet. He braces his hand on the far wall of the shower and steps in, squeezing between you and the back of the tub. You inch forward to make room. His feet are spread around yours and his hands rest on your hips for a moment. He presses his lips into the crown of your head, then reaches around your front to take the washcloth from you. 

Joel presses himself up against your back, then continues to wash your chest. He soaps up your breasts again, then cradles one with his bare hand as he washes your trunk. You look down and watch the suds slide down your body. He washes your hips, your thighs. You’re grateful for the warmth of his groin against you. He turns you to the side and washes your sides, under your arms, your back, your ass, your legs. Then he tells you to rinse off while he washes himself. He steps all the way under the cold water without so much as flinching.  When he’s finished, he rinses off, turns off the water, and wraps you in a hug. The water rolls off your skin and the faucet drips as you stand there in his arms.

After a few minutes, Joel’s deep voice slices through the silence. “Carter's stayin’ tonight. Wait here.”  This unsettles you because you imagine Joel must be worried about something to have Carter stay. Did he believe her about the Infected?

Joel wraps a towel around himself and leaves you in the bathroom with your own towel.  You look in the mirror for a moment, then quickly avert your eyes from your reflection.  

Joel returns with clothes for you. He’s in plaid pj pants and a white t-shirt. Both are too small on him. His pockets are puckered.  You smile at the sliver of skin between his pants and shirt, and he asks, “What?” 

You shrug. “You’re wearing pjs.” 

“Yeah? Well I ain't wearin’em long,” he murmurs and you feel a twitch of need. “You're gonna finish what ya started out there.” He looks at you darkly. “Got it?”

You bite your lip and nod as desire throbs between your legs. 

“That means I ain't doin’ it, you are.” 

Your chest flutters with butterflies. 

He rests a flannel on his shoulder, while he holds up your nightie for you. You lift your arms and he puts it over your head.  He pulls it down and pats your butt. “Want it that bad. . .” He holds the flannel up for you and you stick your arms in. He brings his mouth to your ear. “Gonna show me how bad.” 

The front door opens and shuts. 

“All good?” Joel yells. 

“All good,” Carter answers, then exaggerates a loud yawn. 

“Blankets in the closet,” Joel yells. 

Joel brushes his teeth and leaves you to get ready for bed. 

-

Joel returns just as you're finishing up. He shoves his hand in the puckered pocket of the pj pants and pulls out something brown and strappy that looks small in his hands. It looks like a piece of your holster, but thinner, more delicate. His brow furrows at it and he swallows.  He sits on the closed toilet seat again. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

“It's. . .” He looks at your chest. “C'mere.” You step forward. He holds the object against his thigh and with his other hand, he traces the letters on your chest. “It's better than tryin’ to . . .” he trails off. He looks at your face, then back to your chest and caresses it again. “Better than this.” Your heart swells. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to hurt you. 

He looks at the object in his lap. 

“It's for me?”

He nods. He takes a deep breath and fiddles with the belt-like closure. “Can wear a sweater or whatever, and still. . .” 

“Lemme try it on.”

He searches your eyes. “Really want to?” 

You nod.

He stands up and guides you to the sink. He stands behind you as you both look in the mirror. He wraps it around your throat. Your breath hitches when you see his name in careful, bold lettering, clear but imperfect. It’s an odd sensation, having something around your neck, but the back of it is soft against your skin. It’s smoother and more delicate than the holster is on your thigh. 

“It's beautiful,” you tell him as he concentrates on putting it on you.  

He's gentle and careful. He fastens it with enough room to breathe and swallow. You look at it in the mirror, and the fact that he made it makes you emotional. “You made it,” you whisper.

He nods. “Don't gotta wear it all the time, but-”

“I love it.” 

“Yeah?” he turns you around with his hands on your hips, and his gaze devours your form from head to toe. “Well, God damn. . .Looks good on ya, too.” 

You wrap your arms around him and he hugs you close. He leans back to see you wearing the choker.  “Let's go to bed.”

—-—--

You take off the flannel and get in bed. You bury your head in your pillow. Joel wraps you in his legs and arms, muscles straining his pajamas as he holds you in the dim room. His big, warm hand strokes your back. His body is like a furnace. You take deep breaths. In his bed, in his arms, you finally feel like you can breathe. His arms feel like home in a way that nearly overwhelms you. These are the arms that took you. They hurt you and pushed you away. Would they still? These arms hold you and care for you. They comfort you and kill for you. You hope they never let go. 

It doesn't feel like you were ever really home before him, and it's impossible to imagine an after. There is no after. You're his. In the cruel, awful world, he carved out this space just for you. He kisses your forehead. You pinch your eyes shut and a tear runs down your cheek. It's a tear of relief. You press your cheek into his white t-shirt and his warm package twitches against you. He pushes his hips into you only slightly, and keeps holding you. You focus on his breathing and the beat of his heart. 

You wedge your hand between your bodies. Your knuckles slide down your abdomen, and your palm skims his tummy on its way to his pants. You cradle the warm bulge in his flannel. You press your palm into it and he grunts softly as he presses his hips forward. Then he wraps an arm over you.  He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You're on top of him, and your heart flutters as his words from the bathroom echo. That means you’re doin' it. 

-

You come to your knees, and he watches you curiously as you straddle him. You lower yourself so your panties meet his flannel, and the warmth of his bulge sends a shock to your chest. You lightly grind against him and watch his chest rise and fall as his cock swells against your neediest place. His hips lift and his eyes gloss over as he watches you move on him. You must be a vision – swollen, misty eyes, scratched up chest – but the look on his face says you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

That means you're doin’ it.  

You scoot back so you’re straddling his thighs.  You bring your hand just above his waistband, and your thumb traces his happy trail up under his t-shirt to his belly button, bringing the shirt up with you. You use both hands to push it up and he asks, “Want this off?” 

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “Just like to see this. You slide your hand down his stomach, once again running your thumb through the hair leading to his groin. You run your hand slowly up and down it a few times and feel his muscles tense under the light padding of his tummy. The bulge in his pants becomes more of a tent. His tummy flexes as he rises up enough to take the shirt off anyway.

“What else ya like?” He asks. By now, he knows. Oh God, does he know.  But he must want to hear it. He must want to see it, feel it. He wets his bottom lip. You back up down his legs and take his flannel pants down. His cock bounces free, and for a moment, you dismount him entirely.  Once the pjs are down below his knees, he kicks them off the rest of the way as you take off your underwear. He sucks in air through his nose as he watches you. He's still, and he’s quiet, but the look on his face is more pain than patience. 

You straddle his legs, bend at the hips, and rest your elbows on either side of his hips. You take his cock in one hand, then bring your lips to the head. He's still not at full mast. Not for him. For another man, this might be as hard as it gets, but not Joel. You suck the tip into your mouth. A masochistic part of you imagines how many women might have sucked this cock. You have, too, of course. But you want to outdo them all. You suck as much of it into your mouth as you can, and he sucks in a shaky breath as you furrow your brows and close your eyes. You suck from the back of your mouth, and your throat gurgles obscenely as his tip nudges it, then you gag. His hand rests gently on the side of your head. “You’re okay.” 

You lock eyes with him as you slowly let his shaft out of your mouth. A string connects your lips to his tip until you wipe your mouth with the back of your wrist. You hold his shaft in a loose fist, thumbing his dorsal vein as you turn your attention to his balls. You cup his balls, then lick a stripe up the seam of his sack, and his hand grips the fitted sheet. When you look up at him, he releases the sheet. Your tongue circles his left nut and he closes his eyes. You have your free hand braced on his upper thigh, near where it meets his torso, and you can practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. His eyes meet yours again, and his brows are furrowed. 

“Can I have them in my mouth,” you ask and he nods encouragingly. 

You take one into your mouth and circle your tongue around it. You let it rest on your tongue then give it a gentle suck and he breathes, “oh God damn.” It’s fuzzy and soft and feels nice in your mouth.

You pinch your eyes shut and sigh, “Mm,” with your mouth full. You move to the other one, careful and gentle.  “Ohh,” he moans a little louder than you expect, and you pause. 

You look toward the bedroom door nervously, and take your mouth off. You’re about to remind him about Carter, but he cuts you off, “Shhh,” before you can. 

You lick all around his balls again, and his cock throbs angrily in your hand. You suck a ball into your mouth. You want both, but there’s no way you can do it without scraping him with your teeth, so you don’t. 

Instead, you return your lips to his tip and feel yourself throbbing as you suck his shaft into your mouth. When you look up, he’s shaking his head no.  

“This aint what ya wanted, baby.”

“Is it good?” you ask. 

“Yeah. It's good, sweet pea. . .The best.” His thumb brushes your temple. He moves his fingers to tilt your chin up to look at him.  “But this ain't what ya want *really* want.”

“Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah? You were bouncin’ on my cock out there, just to make me feel good?”

You twitch and swallow and your chest flutters with desire.  

“What’d I tell ya in the bathroom?”

“I'm gonna finish what I started”

“That’s right,” he nods. 

His cock is raging hard. You’re throbbing and gushing for it. You give the tip of it one last kiss, then get up on your knees and take your time positioning yourself over it. You press his tip against your most sensitive place for a moment and let out a whimper. The contact makes you ache for him. 

—

Joel cradles the backs of your thighs as you hold his cock. You look down as you move forward just a little more, then nestle his cockhead at your dripping hole, the very tip of it prodding just barely inside. You’re more than wet enough. You brace your hands on his tummy, near the bottom of his ribs.  Then, you begin to sink down with a whimper, letting his cock spread you open.  He growls, “God damn.”  You're biting your lip, with his big cock stretching you already. 

He nods, “go on, you can do it.” You lift yourself up and bend slightly forward, tilting your hips. He sucks in air through his teeth. He grabs your hips, and you groan as he pulls you down. “Fuck,” he breathes heavily. He loosens his hands on your hips, then moves them to your thighs. You sit still on his cock with your body angled slightly forward, your clit pressing into his pubic hair.  You savor the fullness and the way your body makes space for him. 

You brace your hands on his chest and begin to move yourself. “Good girl,” he whispers with a gentle thrust of his hips. You whimper as his length nudges deep inside, and his hips lift you. 

You lift your ass and let most of his length out, before swallowing it up again and moaning with the delicious stretch. You slowly move yourself, and when you whimper, you feel his nipples harden under your hands. You palm his pecs as you ride his cock.  His chest rises with deep breaths as you fuck him. His eyes keep drifting to his name wrapped around your neck.

You try to be quiet, biting your lip, but you still let out little moans, you can't help it.  So does he. “Ohhh, baby—ohh.” His sounds are desperate, from deep in his chest. 

“Ya do it good,” he whispers. He cradles your ass in his massive hands and begins to move you on him, a little faster than you were going. He watches your breasts move under your nightie.  He lifts up the hem of your nightie to watch your cunt swallow his length, and he groans softly. You pause and take it off, then start moving again. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then his hands return to your ass, gently guiding your rhythm. He clenches his jaw, and you can tell he's trying not to take over entirely. 

“C’mere a minute,” he murmurs. 

His tummy pudges and wrinkles over his flexing abs, and his fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he sits up. He wraps his arms around you and turns to face the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. “Hang on,” he murmurs. “Hang on, baby.” He holds your back with one arm, stands up slightly, and pulls at one of your thighs. You adjust your position so you’re seated instead of kneeling and your bent legs wrap loosely around him. Without the leverage of your knees on the bed, it’s up to him.

You have your arms around his neck and your face against his cheek. Your lips pull like a magnet to the skin just below the dark, curly hair on his head.  You plant a kiss on his neck and suck lightly. He exhales vocally. He hugs you into him and moves you up and down. He’s doing it all now. You both sigh and moan as his cock fills you up. 

Then, he loosens his arms and slides his hands to your shoulder blades. He hooks his thumbs under your arms and breathes, “Lemme see ya for a minute.” 

You hesitantly let him pull you away from his body, missing the heat of his chest against yours. 

“Ain't gonna drop ya, sweet pea.” 

You relax some of your weight into his hands, and he brings you all the way down so you're lying face up with your lower back on his lap. His hands under your arms hold you steady as he thrusts into you, like your body is a warm, wet sleeve for him. You let your head fall back in pleasure. He grunts as he moves you, and you look again to see him snarl. He looks down and watches his cock disappear again and again.

“God damn you feel good,” he whispers. His eyes roam from your eyes to your lips, to your choker, to your tits. He watches where your bodies are joined as he keeps thrusting into you, making you feel like no one ever has. Then his eyes drift up your body again. He slows down. His hands tighten, and he grunts as he brings your body upright again. Your breasts meet his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck again as he hugs you.  Your cheek rests against his jaw, and his scuff scratches you pleasantly. “Always so good,” he breathes, moving you on his cock. His breath is warm against your ear. “Ohh baby,“ he sighs. 

He tilts his chin to look up at the ceiling, and you latch onto his neck. He braces a hand on the bed and his hips lift under yours as you grind your body into his. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Oh, God, baby. You're–you’re so good for me,” he pants, barely above a whisper. “Ohhh–so good, sweet pea.” 

You release his neck with a whimper. He cradles your head with one hand, and his cheek returns to yours. 

As you ride him, his head slowly drifts back, so his breath is on your cheek instead of your ear. Your lips are dangerously close, and Joel doesn't pull away. Your mouths get closer while your bodies move as one. Soon, the corners of your lips are touching. You breathe and moan against each other's mouths. Your lips tingle at the closeness, and all you want is his mouth on yours. It feels so close. The sides of your mouths move against each other. It’s enough, just feeling his lips. You want more, but it’s enough, for now. He pulls his head back, and your heart barely has time to sink before he leans his forehead against yours and cradles the back of your head. Your mouths loosely connect, with his lower lip hitching on your upper lip every time you slide down his cock. You breathe each other’s breath. Your noses touch. His bottom lip tenses, and his mouth follows yours, not letting your lips slip away. You moan softly against his mouth, pinching your eyes shut, resisting the urge, resisting it.  

Then, Joel presses his open lips against yours. His lips drag lightly, clockwise, then they truly embrace you. As your mouths seal together, you half-moan, half-whine, “Mmm.” His lips are strong and desperate, pulling on yours like a hug. You can feel him taking your air and your spit. He sucks it right out of you, replacing it with an even more desperate need for him. You’re having him, you’re having all of him, but you can never have enough. Arousal floods your body. It gathers deep in your gut and bubbles up to your chest.  You take a deep breath through your nose as his tongue slowly thrusts into your mouth and finds yours. His cock is in your tight, wet cunt, and his tongue is in your soft little mouth. You throb and twitch on his cock, and you're nearly overcome. Your whole body simmers. He wraps his arm tighter around you, and your tits smush against him as he kisses you hungrily, and you kiss back.  It’s real, it’s really–it’s real. His hand slides down to grip the back of your neck as your mouths move together, drawing each other in, deeper and deeper, like you need it to live.  

“Mmmm,” you whine at your imminent peak. 

“Mm,” he grunts into your mouth as you twitch again on his cock.  His tongue slides against yours, and the tension boils over violently, erupting from your core out to every inch of your body. Your walls clench, and you don't want to let go of his mouth, but your body jerks. Your lips begin to break away with a moan as you spasm on his cock. He holds you there by your neck. Your mouths stay half connected, and you breathe and moan against each other. Time freezes and waves of pleasure ripple through your core. Then, Joel’s thick cock twitches in the embrace of your spasming cunt. “Ugghh,” grunts, then his lips take yours again. “Mmmm.” He erupts, and you're still not finished. He holds you still, holds you tight. His hips lift slowly into you as his cock pulses. Massive bursts of warmth flood your core, and he kisses you slowly but needily as he comes. The kiss becomes sloppy. You both breathe through your noses, but your mouths still disconnect for split seconds, breathing each other’s humid breath.

When Joel finishes emptying his load into you, he gently pulls his lips from yours to take a deeper breath. He leans back and collapses on the bed. You sit there on his cock, still twitching, and your hand drifts to your tingling lips. His hands rest on your thighs. You watch his chest expand with air, and you watch his face. He opens his eyes, then silently motions c’mere with both hands. You fold at your hips and hug him. As you settle in, he strokes the nape of your neck. His chest rises and falls under your cheek. He unfastens the leather choker for you. You were planning to sleep in it, but now that he’s kissed you–and it was more than that, it felt like more–you don't feel quite as desperate for the tangible reminder that he wants you. You have it. Your lips are buzzing. Your whole body is. You can feel it in your bones. 

-

After a few minutes of caressing you, Joel murmurs, “Let's get some sleep.” 

You both get under the covers. He lies on his back. You’ve never seen his face so peaceful. You rest your head and half your body on him. You rest your hand on his chest.  He strokes your back. Then, he lays his other hand on top of yours.  

Soon, you drift off to the sound of him lightly snoring. 

----

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Raider POV: The Kiss

----

----

----

So, I was writing this one when I took the detour to let Carter jack off lmao: He's only human.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I really appreciate your support and patience and love for these characters. Out of all my characters, it means so much to me when you engage with raider Joel because I pour a lot of myself into this one and have been writing it for >8 months.

Love you all so much! I can't respond to everything without spamming but I appreciate all of your commentary so much and often revisit it when I need inspo.

I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not getting a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon

[nburkhardt]

Was at Disneyland today and had a thought:

Disney cast member Steve being the one to escort Corroded Coffin & family around the parks. He’s trying very hard to stay professional and not give into Eddie Munson’s flirting.

He manages to make it the whole day with it, even if he really wants to. Steve isn’t ashamed to admit that he finds Eddie hot (he especially loves the pet names that fly out of the man’s mouth “hello honey pie!”)

The real problem is the next day, because of course the band has a multiple day pass. Normally Steve switches between jobs/areas, he was supposed to be working with Robin at Haunted Mansion, even already wearing the uniform when he gets told that he was requested by the band (more importantly: Eddie requested him)

Luckily he has another uniform with him and changes, apologies to Robin about her having to work with Keith again before heading to meet up with the band again.

But at the meet up point, he finds only Eddie there. With a lousy excuse for the other guys not being there. (they didn’t want to spend another day watching Eddie flirt, they went to Knott’s Berry Farm instead)

Steve is still professional though, because he doesn’t want to lose his job (Robin would kill him, especially since she keeps getting paired with Keith when Steve’s somewhere else) So, instead of out right flirting, he does give change up the normal gimmick/speech and at the end of the day, pretends not to see Eddie slip his number to him.

(It comes out months later on twitter. Fans go wild and try finding Steve at the parks not realizing he and Robin no longer work there. The two of them being folded into Corroded Coffin’s PR team instead.)

~

… please don’t ask me what cast members do when they escort people around. I’ve never done that. I just saw a few groups of people with one and thought “that would be a fun fic idea” and well, I’m heading home now and decided to write this out hahaha. If anyone wants they can use this!

Taglist under the cut! (Also in the replies)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings

[alwaysthefool]

Opposite (x Zayne)

Warnings: face dysmorphia, envy, jealousy, insecurity

Tags: Angst (no comfort), f!reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader

Synopsis: You see Zayne with another girl, and let your insecurities get the better of you.

You thought it’d be a wonderful day. There was definitely something going on between the two of you, something unspoken, and on the last trip, Zayne kissed you. You two did not address it or follow through where you left off, but there were sparks and a certain tension, always on the brink of exploding into something more.

That day, you were going to ask him about it, but at the bakery where you’d usually find him on sunny afternoons having a snack, someone else was next to him. An intern, by the looks of it. The most beautiful girl you’d ever seen. Tall, perfect skin, large eyes, sweeter voice, prettier. Pretty and smart in ways you’d never be.

Prettier, smarter.

And he was smiling. Zayne, usually stoic, was laughing at a joke she’d made. Prettier, smarter, and funny. You never felt your heart beat faster, the lump in your throat growing, and you realised the only way out for you was literally, out of the bakery. You quietly went back, breathing slowly to control your emotions. Right, why would Zayne be with you? He had better options.

You almost laughed when you finally reached your apartment. Stupid, stupid girl. You cursed yourself internally. Before you could think about anything else, you heard your phone buzz. Looking at it, it was a text from Zayne. You stupidly saved his number with emojis on your phone.

‘Don’t forget your check-up appointment tomorrow.’

Of course, that’s all he was to you. A doctor. You replied to him with a thumbs-up emoji, immediately changing his contact name to Dr. Zayne, and removing your display picture. You felt awful, insignificant, ugly. You did not want to look in the mirror. You were embarrassed.

Why did he kiss you in the first place? Were you overthinking? Was that girl why he never brought up the time he kissed you?

You sighed, calming yourself down. This kind of pain wasn’t good for the heart. You changed into your pajamas, trying to distract yourself with a movie, some popcorn, and eventually, a drink. Then two. Then three. Then as many as it took to fall asleep.

You woke up groggy, irritated, and still remembering that girl’s face, that doctor you had a crush on, and the fact you’d see them in the hospital in a few hours. You took a shower, put on some makeup, removed the makeup considering you were just going to get a checkup, looked up if it’s acceptable to wear makeup to a hospital on the internet, and then settled with a lip tint and concealer.

Maybe you should’ve called Tara to come along with you for moral support, and you could go out for drinks later, but you decided against it considering Grayson and Yvonne would be there to cheer you up.

It hurt when you saw them at the hospital chatting with that intern. It was about Zayne, something related to a surgery going well. You bowed your head, praying they wouldn’t notice you, as you almost tip-toed to Zayne’s office.

“[Name]!” Yvonne called, waving. You took a deep breath and forced a smile back, approaching the three. Upon getting a closer look of the intern, you realised she had no blemishes, no scars, and her hands were perfectly manicured. She looked like one of those models that you convinced yourself had airbrushed editing on magazine pages. Guess people like that really did exist.

“Uh, something on my face?” She asked, and you realised you were staring.

You looked away, embarrassed. “Nothing, sorry.”

“This is Jo, Zayne’s new intern.” Grayson spoke, and you bit your lip as you nodded at her. “He usually doesn’t take any, but he selected her himself seeing how brilliant her research was.”

You just smiled and nodded, stupidly, to the point you were sure it was becoming weird.

“Uh, you’re here for the checkup, right? Let me take you to him.” She looked at her notepad, and gestured you to Zayne’s office. You didn’t wave a bye to your friends, just keeping your head down. Usually, you’d hop to Zayne’s room like it was your own, opening the door with a smile, but this time the door was opened for you, and you couldn’t meet his eyes.

It felt like the universe was mocking you, and this was something you’d have to bear.

“Dr. Zayne.” She was the one greeting him this time.

You walked over to Zayne, sitting on the examination chair next to him. You didn’t meet his eyes, fiddling with the metal surface of your chair instead. Zayne would’ve immediately noticed. Maybe he did.

“Jo, you can leave.”

You watched her confused expression from the corner of your eye, and then her perfect figure take a bow and leave.

“Eyes on me.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t raise your eyes to look at him, even though it was probably for the checkup. Zayne put two fingers under your chin, and forced you to look up, a small torch in his other hand.

“You’re mad at me.” He said, checking your eyes, his hand caressing your cheek. You didn’t respond, turning around as usual for his stethoscope to measure your heart rate. Zayne sighed, placing his stethoscope on your spine as you took a deep, shaky breath.

“Can you tell me what I did?” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on to his lap, breathing in your scent. You wanted to hold him back, nuzzle him, something, but the insecurity, a demon inside of you, wouldn’t let you.

“If you do this again, I’m switching doctors.” You pulled yourself away from him, irritated, standing up. Zayne also looked annoyed, and hurt. Were you the one being petty here? You didn’t think about it.

“Check-up’s done, I’m leaving.”

“It’s actually not.” Zayne spoke firmly, definitely annoyed. You sat back down next to him, looking at him with defiant eyes.

He looked down at his notepad. “Are you experiencing any odd symptoms?”

Heartbreak, jealousy, agonising mental pain. “No.”

“Have you been eating well?”

You frowned. You hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and you didn’t realise it until now, but you lied. “Yeah.”

“Then why did I hear your stomach growl?”

Your cheeks reddened. Zayne was a doctor after all, nothing got past him. He gave you a candy from his coat pocket. “Let’s get lunch after my shift is over.”

You quietly nibbled on the candy, handing the wrapper back to him, which made him smile. “My princess.”

“If I’m your princess, why did I see you at that bakery with some other girl yesterday?” You looked down, embarrassed now, realising you were mad over such a small thing.

Zayne held your face gently, making you look up at him. “That’s what this is about? Jo?”

You pulled away from him. “Not just her, but also, you kissed me, and never addressed it again. I feel like I’m a candy wrapper to you, someone to discard after use.”

“That’s-“ Zayne’s voice was hesitant. You didn’t meet his eyes and he didn’t make you. “I… I’m sorry, I was busy after that. I didn’t have the time to call you over, or-“

“But you had the time to go to a bakery with your intern?”

Zayne’s expression turned cross. You supposed he was done with you too. “She called me there, because she saw I was overworking myself. Am I not allowed that much?”

You bit your lip. Prettier, smarter, funny, and kinder. “I’m sorry.” You managed. That was all you had to say. You let your insecurities get the better of you, but… was that hard to understand for Zayne? Tears fell from your eyes but you didn’t feel like you were going to cry. “I, um… I should go.”

“No, please-“ Zayne tried, reaching his hand out for you but you stood up. You didn’t want to look at him, at anyone at the hospital. You did not want to go home, you did not want to be anywhere, you did not want to exist as a person in the universe. An insecure, ugly person, who hurt the people around them. It hurt like knives that started inside your heart and prodded their way outwards, hurting you most of all, it-

“I’ll take the day off.” You did not realise when Zayne reached next to you by the door, his large hand holding it close. “I’ll make time for you. Please, let me fix this.”

“It’s not your fault, Zayne.” You put your hand on the door handle, red eyes meeting his exasperated ones, as you spoke what needed to be said. “I just think we aren’t right for each other.”

You could see the emotion fall from his face, his hand leaving the door. You walked out, grateful that at least Yvonne and Grayson weren’t eavesdropping right outside this time. Jo wasn’t too far away, though, and she noticed your teary face. “Is everything okay?” She asked, concerned. That hurt worse than if she would’ve just ignored it, because this girl in front of you was blameless. You smiled at her, lying that it was just allergies, hoping she’d take good care of Zayne in your place.

—x—

Part 2 fixing things, anyone?

[russellsppttemplates]

Reader being self conscious with her body after having her and Charles last baby (i forgot his name im so so so sorry!) and Charles, Herve and Amelie just like complimenting her and not understanding how good it makes her feel

Note: don't worry, there are so many kids in this blog, even I have to go and check paddock daycare once in a while!

Cw: reader's insecurity about her postpartum body

You sometimes wondered if Charles noticed all the ways your body changed to accommodate motherhood, especially now having had your third baby. But then you were easily showered with compliments from everyone around you, and you swore Charles, Hervé and Amélie were having a competition on who could give you the most compliments.

"Mama! You look so pretty!", Amélie said, hugging your legs as you prepared your water bottle so you could feed baby Thomas once you sat down, "thank you, ma belle, the hairstyle papa did on you is very pretty, too", you replied.

"Papa! Have you seen mama today? She has a new dress!", Hervé pointed out as you joined the boys in the living room, "This is an old one actually, I've had it since you were a baby, Hervé", you reasoned, suddenly feeling shy with all eyes on you and also feeling a little more beautiful.

The warm temperatures called for a day outside in the pool, the kid excited to have Thomas spend a little bit of time in the water even if Charles just wet his feet since he was only a couple of weeks old, "you're not getting in, mama?", Hervé asked, "your swimsuit makes you look like a princess".

Just on cue, Thomas started crying, recognising it was his hungry cry, "I'm afraid Thomas needs me, I'll swim later", you said as Charles helped you grab Thomas so you could go and feed him.

Your little boy ended up falling asleep on your chest, milk drunk against your skin that was exposed from the neckline of the swimsuit, all while Amélie got out of the pool, wrapping herself in the towel and having Hervé follow suit once Charles mentioned snack time.

"You're so comfy to sleep on, mama", Amélie whispered as she climbed on you after you assured her it would be fine, grasping some of the fabric of your cover up and leaving your hips exposed, the stretch marks fully on show as you thought about all of it. Your body was all of your three kids' first home, providing them comfort, warmth and safety, and now that they were out, you were still those exact same things for them. And they loved you no matter what.

"Do you have room for me?", Hervé asked as he stepped closer to the sun lounger, "Come here, amour", you said as you patted your side, having Hervé cuddle up to you and resting his hand on your tummy mindlessly, sighing happily.

A few moments later, Charles stepped outside, taking the scene in front of him in and laughing loudly, "I don't suppose there's space for me on there, hm?", he smiled.

"I think we can make some room", you said, adjusting your position so Charles could lay closer to your thighs, "maybe there?", you giggled, seeing him happily scoot closer to your and intertwining your legs.

"Don't laugh, amour, I want to touch you too!", Charles said as he achieved what he wanted while his hand squeezed your thigh, "it's not my fault you are such an amazing mama and that we all want a little bit of you!", he chuckled, kissing your temple.

"You really think so?", you wondered, "this is all you, amour, how kind, amazing and great you are - why do you think I'm nearly fighting Hervé for this?", he said as the little boy kept inching closer to you, "she's my mama, you should've gotten her first", your oldest son said before Amélie let out "I agree", making him shake his head as he smiled, "thing is I did get here first, actually, like years before all of them", he chuckled.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[scara-writes]

change of heart

Sugar Mommy Reader X Y! Gold digger Male

Let's make a story about the reader falling in love first :>

Yes, this yandere is an asshole.

Might make a part two?

CW: yandere, manipulation, consensual-smut, gold digger yandere

No proof read. Will edit it later on.

cerise=cherry🍒

(THIS IS REPOST BECAUSE I REALIZED THAT SIDE BLOGS HAS LIMITED ACCESS ;-;)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Sheon wasn't rich nor poor but he wanted an easy money to make his life easier.

He knows he was becoming addicted on spending money. He can't blame himself, he was getting picked on for not having enough money to buy what he wants unlike his rich classmates that will flaunt their items at each other. He even sneak out of his way to take his father's credit card to buy him useless things that would entertain himself for a little bit like games and toys, Sheon would also flaunt them that his parents has the money when in actuality he is in the middle class. Although his arrogance did not last long after his father finds out about it, grounded him for a whole year for that. He still kept on spending money, he was pretty good at accounting which pretty weird coming from someone who spends a lot.

Now that he became a college student, with his major being aligned in accounting. His parents literally forced him to move out and gave him a right amount of allowance every month for him to study from his dream university but it wasn't enough. He just wants more money to spend, either to indulge himself or to avoid being picked on by his peers.

Not until he met you.

A kind person who introduced yourself to him, your cheeks were bright red as you told him that you fell inlove at first sight.

Sheon do look good. He was popular among women around the campus but those said girls can only glance at him as they feel bad that he was only a middle class. So don't blame him when he was surprised at your sudden confession, and he wanted to reject you right away, the red haired doesn't have the time to find a love, he wants money not a freeloader. But when you told him your last name when you introduce yourself to him, it caught him off guard.

"what was...your last name again?"

"(l-l/n)!" You exclaimed as you bashfully waited for his response about your confesion.

There are three siblings that is going to inherit three companies. If he remembered correctly, he saw an article of on one of them inheriting the biggest company once they graduated. Your face is somewhat coincidentally look the same as it is in the article.

A dark idea pop up to his mind. His greed was whispering at him.

If he can be with you. He can get what he wants right?

Easy money is easy life!

"…so… C-can I court you?" Your hands fiddling as you wait for his response. He looked at you up and down. You looked pretty average for his taste. The only thing that is pretty about you is the money you will inherit, but hey that will do if he wants to get what he wants.

The greedy man grinned and traps you between his arms and lean down to meet your face. Not even caring at the other student passing by looking at the both of you by either cringing or looking weirdly.

He boldly gave your left cheek a quick peck before answering your question with another question.

"… If I say yes, what's in it for me love?"

Not long after, the two of you became official. Your courting lasted around two weeks and that's about it. He always request for you to buy him this and that and you gave it him the very next day as you love him very much and trusted him wholeheartedly. He would taunt the said gifts he received from you to his old peers that he got himself the items that is much worth than their brand. Their frown look satisfies him.

Some of them asked where did he got the money to buy, but he will answer one word. cerise.

No one knows about his plan except for his ex friend, Tyr.

The ex friend of his cut ties off with him immediately after knowing he was using an innocent person like you for his greed.

Oh well his lost! He was about to share his dimes and gold with him.

Sheon thought about what will he give you something back for all the items you gave him. Well, His exchange for everything was himself of course!

His body is probably enough to make you feel something close to heaven. It made you whine out in satisfaction whenever he hit the right spot. Sheon could tell you never experienced this, a virgin at that. The way you moan out his name make his heart swell with pride.

"…is.. this what it..nghh… f-feels..uuhhmm..l-like?" You whimpered when he hit the same spot that made you cried out it on pleasure. Your hands were trembling around his sweaty shoulder, eyes rolling when he hits it again. He leaned to down to peck your parted lips. "… Do you like it?"

He fastened his pace up to chase down the ecstasy that you were feeling. He felt the walls grip of yours tightened around him feeling that you are getting close.

"I… I love…i-it..p-please don't s-stop!" You moaned out, unconsciously digging your nails to his skin. Sheon smirked at your reaction, wiping off your sweaty temple before giving it a soft kiss, then giving what you asked for.

You must be missing out from parties, seeing you had never experience like this before and that's okay. So long as this is a payment to get what he wants.

"Your wish is my command, cerise." He whispered his pet name to you.

"I-I love Sheon." You whimpered as you feel him pulled out when he gave you released. Sheon sighs, his load went through your stomach, giving you one last kiss before cleaning you up. Dabbing the towel around your body, cleaning you gently, asking you if he hurt you too badly. You answered meekly, telling him that you are fine, he was a sweet for giving you an aftercare.

He scoffs at you, teasing you. "It's a bare minimum, cerise. It's normal to take care of their partner after their love making." He carried you at the bathroom of your own apartment. Putting you down at the bathtub as he twist the faucet open.

Sheon joined you in the bath, he gently massage your scalp, making you shudder in relaxation, "do you like it?"

"I love it." You meekly replied leaning your back between his thighs. He wash down the foam around your hair, he rinse the shampoo out after he was done. He took a soap and was about to clean your body too but you insist that you will do it yourself. Sheon stopped and heed your words and starts washing himself up, the male was the first one to finish, he dried himself off by his own towel and starts to wear the pajamas that was already prepared besides the lavatory. After he was done, he told you that he will prepare you a snacks and turn on the tv for the movie you requested yesterday.

The red haired male's relationship with you went pretty well. Of course his body and his face shouldn't be the only thing he could do for you. He needed to act like a good boyfriend, being the fast learner that he is. He found himself, he was rather good at cooking and baking.

He would lie if he say he doesn't enjoy it when he cooks for you.

He would give you your favorites, something you cannot eat in your household. You told him you were on a strict diet ordered by your very own parents. They didn't know your relationship with him, Sheon was a secret affair and you revealed you were in arrange marriage during the time you courted him. It worried him seeing that his source of money will leave him for the arrange marriage.

You held his hand and you promised him that it will never happen, that you will fight for the "love" the two of you had.

The greedy male stared at you for a minute, realizing you are too naïve to think that he actually loves you. Were you that oblivious?

He wanted to laugh at your face but…

Why does his heart starts hammering when you told him that you will fight for him against your parents?

A little guilt went up to his throat before swallowing it by his pride.

The two of you lasted for three years as a couple, graduated and help him out to hire him to your company. His colleagues at his work respected him quickly seeing that he is the boyfriend of their soon-to-be boss, Sheon enjoyed the power he had over them, no more people looking down on him.

It didn't last long because your parents immediately confronted you about him and you had enough of it. It was the first time you neglected your parents orders and Sheon was there to witness it.

"I don't care about the agreement! The arrange marriage, I didn't agree on that! Mother, Father! I've been nothing but a good child since the day I was born! I have never ever went against you and I am obedient child who never goes against your will just so the two of you can be happy! But this is the only time I asked for you to let me have something I want in my life!" He felt the grip of your hands on him. The red haired male stares at your quivering form but he saw how determined you are about him.

He felt guilty knowing he was the cause of why you arguing with your parents right now.

Wait… He's feeling guilty?

"He's using you for your money! Look at your ridiculous amount you spent! From the moment you had a relationship with him!" Your father shouted at you, before glaring at him.

Truthfully, your father wasn't wrong. He used you for your money.

"And so what? I am willing to give everything he wants because I love him!"

Do you love him that much?

"The least I could do for him is to give what he likes because he is the only person who showed me what it feels like to be loved!"

Throughout the heated argument with your parents. He was silent for the whole time until you broke down to tears. Just a droplet from your tears made himself go blank. Sheon didn't know what happened to himself, all he knows that his body act on its own and went to cover your vulnerability from your parents.

You were surprised at his action before letting yourself be buried in his chest.

"I think it's time for us to leave." He told your parents before guiding you out to leave the mansion, not looking back.

He hop you on the passenger seat of his car before closing the doorway after he heard your parents trailing behind him, yelling. He doesn't want you to hear what he was about to say.

His blue eyes glared at them.

"I have never throughout in our relationship witness (Y/n) weep and broken down until this day, I always ensure her happiness on everything I'd done. If we have disagreements we will let each other agree to separate for a little bit until we are calm enough to discuss it again."

His mouth continued to flow out the next words he didn't think he would find himself struggling with his words. Thankfully, he didn't stutter.

"...I love her more than you could ever know. I won't let her cry and force her to do the things she doesn't want to. If she doesn't want something, she will let me know and I will stop because I don't want her to feel sad, bothered and suffocate. Truthfully, your daughter is the most sincere person that I've known in my entire life. She always gives out her best to make everyone happy."

He let out a deep breath. "I cannot believe she went through all her years of her life of enduring your demands and pressures the day she was born. It's no wonder your children are starting to neglect you. Most people might have called an authority because of your abuse if it weren't for the money you have. Every child deserve a parents but not every parents deserve a child." He paused before continuing again.

"If I see her cry again because of the both of you.No matter how much money you used to separate us. I will make sure you will regret it." With that he walk around his car before opening the doorway of the driver seat and drive away from your wrecked family. The whole ride was silent. Sheon never felt his heart rate beating this fast.

What happened to him?

Why did he do that?

What if his job from your company is going to make him terminated from his internship?

You were still on your way to become boss but your parents still owns it as long as they are alive.

"… I-I'm sorry.. you witnessed that." You sniffed as you tried to wipe off your tears trying your best to minimize your hiccups.

"… Don't mention it." He grunted before tossing you a box of tissue carelessly, eyes trained at the road not caring if you catch it or not.

You blew away your snots, as his thoughts were clouded of doubt.

"Stop crying." He said before parking the car after reaching his home. You nodded, trying to minimize your tears.

He exited the car and you did too before following him behind. A small squeak was heard from the car indicating that his car is locked.

Sheon didn't bother on walking beside you as he went to unlock the door of his home.

He went himself in, he doesn't care to tell you to follow because you will.

You sat on the couch and collect your thoughts for bit, staring the tiled floor of the living room. He look at your form and rolled his eyes before changing his clothes. What's next? Are you going to be stuck with him, onwards?

He went to the kitchen and starts to cook. Trying his best figure out something but nothing comes up in his mind.

He put the food in to two plates before serving you a lasagna. "Eat, cerise."

You thanked him and starts to eat your food slowly, your appetite isn't in good shape after your burst of emotion to your parents.

Sheon just picked his food but not eating as he stared at you.

What is he going to do with you now? He can't have you here! You… You need to come back and apologize! What if your parents cut off your card? Most of your money were from your parents! Then what about his money? What about the items you promised him to buy it for him?!

what about your feelings?

…what about her..?..

Stop... Stop making him feel guilty.

He quietly sigh and starts to eat. This mixed feelings are eating him up.

"Does it taste good?" He asked. You nod, sniffing.

"Leave the plate, I'll wash them up later. You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

You tried to reason him that you can sleep on the couch but he insisted.

You were stuck with him for three months. Your card was indeed cut off and you and him were evicted temporarily at your company by your mother. At that time he was conflicted whether or not he should just ditch you…. Since you don't have money anymore. You just stay at home.

Seeing you apologize for being inconvenient at his home he felt guilty for thinking about it. But for some reason... he can't bare the thought of you wandering around depending on no one.

Sheon went outside to get a hose to water the outdoor the plants until he saw a man who looks similar to you.

"Hey." The said stranger called for him. He must be one of your sibling, seeing almost all of your resemblance to him, except his demeanor. People would feel intimidated when they look at him but not him, Sheon wasn't scared of him. He is one of the siblings who neglect his parents.

The red haired male raised his eyebrow before walking up to him.

"Yes? Do you need something?"

"… My older sister, (Y/n)? Are you perhaps her boyfriend..?" The way he spoke the word boyfriend. Sheon can feel the distaste from him.

"What about it?"

His (e/c) eyes was staring at his soul. They both of knew they are never gonna be in good terms.

"(Y/n) can go back to the company. Our parents needs her."

"And what? Are they gonna invalidate her again?"

Your brother scoff. "If that were to happen, she can call me right away. They can't complain when it comes to me. They know I don't act like my soft hearted older sister." He tossed an atm card at him. Sheon catches it confused.

"What's this for?"

"Give that to my sister. It's her new card."

Your brother pulled the handle of his own car before going in. "What about (Y/n)? Do you not want to look at her?"

"No need… I'm sure she will be fine."

After that, He left without a bid of farewell.

Sheon looked at the card in his hand. Greed went on his mind to keep the card and hide it from you. Just telling you the details that you can go back to the company. He should get back the payment he used to buy the items he wasted on you for the past few months—

"Sheon?"

You called to him. Snapping out of his thoughts when he realized he was already in the kitchen, cooking food for the both of you.

"You almost burned the eggs… Is there something wrong?"

Sheon blinked before smiling at you.

"Your brother went to see you but he was in a hurry so… He told me that you can go back. Your parents need you back to the company."

Your eyes lit up."really?"

"Really."

He went silent. Deciding that he should just give your atm card. It was stupid idea to think of him hiding your card, that will result of him being arrested and making you abandon him. He can't ruin his hardwork for making you his bank.

You blinked when you stiffly take the card from his hand. "What's this?"

"Your new card. Your… Umm.. brother wants to give it to you."

You look at him in the eyes for a second before leaning in to kiss him.

"I love you." You smiled, your eyes were brightened. As if something cleared up your mind and he noticed it.

He gave you a tight grin. "I'll put this on the plate before it actually burns."

Just like his first week on a relationship with you. His life went back smoothly. Everything went back to normal. The next three weeks, the two of you went on a date, suggested by you of course.

The both of you enjoyed the rides at carnival. He laughed when you didn't like the taste of the sweet corn of the nearby shop, telling him you preferred the street food sweet corn he brought on your first date with him. After having a snack,Sheon went to take a picture of the two of you capturing every moment he can find.

You told him that you book a private resort nearby the beach. So he drove there. Enjoying the night ride with him.

His heart fluttered when he hear you humming happily while you were scrolling on the phone, probably buying an item that he request yesterday, you ask him what color he liked on the item. Right now, the red haired doesn't care about it and tells you to keep humming the tune and forget about the item he wanted.

He just found himself, liking the sound of your voice.

The first thing he did when the both of you went inside the resort was to pop out a wine and serve you one before quickly kissing your lips. The both of you enjoyed gazing the night at cozy fireplace lit on the modern table. You cuddled with him and he held you, warming you up. As he sighed, relaxing himself.

"Sheon…."

You let yourself go on his hold before toying his hands with yours until you let it go."What's wrong?" You look down, staring through his shirt.

"I have… Been meaning to tell you this.. I don't know if it's the right time but…"

Sheon held his breath. Did you find out that he was using you?

He looked at your right hand that is tapping something from behind of your pocket before showing it to him.

A small black box was given to him.

He looked at you confused before he assessed your new gift to him. The box looked liked it could store a jewel.

His world stops when he opened it.

"I know… you went all the trouble of taking care of me when… when I was kicked out from the house but… I never felt so indebt to you after all the love you showered m-me… I-I'm not good with this kind of things… and might even call it corny so….W-would-you-like-to-spend-the-rest-of-your-time-together-with-me?" You fiddle your hand nervously as you look up to him, rushing the last sentence. Awaiting for his response, whether he will reject you or not.

Before you could call his name again. His lips had already met yours, arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer.

You were shocked by your boyfriend's action before returning your kiss. Slowly wrapping your arms around his neck.

He pushed tongue inside your mouth, caressing your caverns and sucking your tongue, drinking the sound of your whimpers and moans. He loves the whimpers that you make, it makes him want to keep going.

You tap him by the shoulder, signalling him to halt his actions but he continued to assault your lips until the thirst in him quenched. It was the first time he ignore your orders, but he just can't help himself.

He felt euphoric.

Sheon was grinning, widely. One of his hands went to your buttoned shirt. Slowly unclasping them, one by one.

His cheeks matches the color of his hair. His voice laced with love and affection."I'm officially yours, cerise."

For the first time, he felt genuine towards you. He felt everything was clear. He doesn't know when, where and why he didn't realize it sooner but…

He actually like you more than the money itself..

No...

He loves you that no money can replace you.

Fuck all the items, he got. You're much more valuable, the most treasured thing he wants.

He went to kiss your collarbone before softly gazing on you.

For the first time, your relationship with him. Sheon uttered the words that are genuine and meaningful from the bottom of his heart.

"…I love you."

This might be a mistake in your part.

He will never let you go now.

========================

Part 2?

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it (rewrite) — sam and dean winchester

cw : gn!winchester!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, barely different from the original but slightly adjusted to fix some canon details i got wrong and adjust to my changed perspective of the whole purgatory situation, sam and dean did reader wrong, swearing, arguments, crying, nicknames (kid, kiddo, honey, sweetheart), 4.1K words.

summary : since dean disappeared, sam has been distant. when he calls you and you find out dean's back, you also find out that both of your older brother's have been lying to you.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, and hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been who knows where and presumed dead, for the last year or so. the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easily, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hi” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“where… dean, where were you? i mean, i tried– i tried everything, i looked everywhere,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected, given your brothers. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– i’ll explain it to you later. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask, voice tired and bordering on distressed, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean what– what’s up with that?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows strained.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. 

“well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did nothing?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes. okay, listen, i’m sorry i lied to you. but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for dean and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted. and–” you pause a moment, purposefully not looking at dean. “and it’s not– not bad that you got that, sam, all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies more like you think,” your voice takes a scathing edge, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s does his best to make his interruption gentle, though he’s not the best at hiding his frustrations sometimes. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, ignoring your oldest brother, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” 

a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?”

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry. i really am.” he looks sorry, and sad, like this is the opposite of what he wanted. under your anger, you know it’s true that he never wanted this. you know that sam thinks people are better off distant from him. but it hurts that he let you be one of those people.

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill as your composure slips further and further. “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that. but you keep going, your voice quieter now, harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. we’ll talk about this later, you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. he tried, the way he thought was right, but he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did.”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i swear i’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really? you gonna tell me you came back from wherever the hell you were without a soul next? where– where even were you?” you ask shrilly.

you’ve beat him too. “sweetheart,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay? i– i was in purgatory. i can explain the rest later.”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you cry out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me. three months…”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay. i’m here now,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the ways you were hurt. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’ve got you, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean leads you to a foreign room and foreign bed, and you sink down onto the edge of it. sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you cave to your exhaustion, climbing all the way into the bed. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, not wanting to look them or your remaining problems and anger in the face.but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline. he lingers at the doorway before

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[shreddedparchment]

The Garden Gate

Pairing: Medieval!Loki x Reader Word Count: 6,514

Warnings: smut, mentions of infidelity, language, bodily fluids, jealousy, Loki in a poofy shirt

A/N: Well, I haven't done this in a while. I had to go look for an old post to see how I used to do these openings. LUL Anywho, y'all can thank @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for this one. She sent me a picture and then I asked her for three characters and three scenarios and this one is the one that spoke to me the most. I did put my own spin on it but that's just me. Anywho, I'm not sure how many of my old readers will read this but I hope y'all like it. Anything y'all have to say about it is also greatly appreciated. xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs!!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

Your family’s fall from grace had been nothing short of spectacular.

It had started first with the crumbling of respect from the men and heads of other houses. The gentry had taken offense to the shame of your father and eldest brother’s retreat at the battle for Carmine Valley, so named for the blush of trees that peppered the expanse of lush green and the strange but beautiful red waters of the central lake.

Had Lord Odinson’s own knights not been flanking from the western ridges, the valley would have fallen into the hands of the northern enemy forces. A great loss seeing as the valley was the largest producer of grain and vegetables in the kingdom.

The fallout had been catastrophic. Both your father and brother had been sent to the wild woods to the southernmost parts of the kingdom to work off their shame and languish in the dangerous labor camps where men were said to be torn into shreds by beasts as large as a carriage.

Even though you loved them very much, you couldn’t help the anger within your veins at their betrayal to not only the kingdom, but to your very family. The abandonment that their retreat meant. They knew what doing so would do to you, your mother, and younger brother.

If it were not for the King’s good nature, you’d have no doubt found yourself working in some brothel alongside your mother leaving your younger brother, at the tender age of seven, exposed to the worst parts of society.

The seediest brothels were not above selling children, you knew. No matter that the King had signed a death warrant for anyone known to sell or buy said company. It was the worst of sins and it breaks your heart to know that one man’s generosity saved all three of you from that life when he could have very well condemned it.

Knowing this–knowing how bad it could have been–doesn’t change the fact that your life now is still torture. Torture of a different kind, but torture all the same.

The King’s kindness came in the form of service. While your family was stripped of all titles and wealth, you’d also lost your beloved.

That is the true source of agony in your chest as you struggle with the bucket of waste water you’re holding, trying desperately not to slosh it around too hard. The last thing you want to do is to go to bed smelling of someone else’s bodily fluids.

The thick wool of your simple navy dress and the apron you keep tied over it are both great for absorbing disgusting materials. Already in need of a wash, the white ruffle along the neckline is frayed and yellowing despite the gown being only a few months old.

Edging along the courtyard wall, you try not to rush. The exhaustion in your body begs for sleep. Even months later the labor of working in the castle as a servant to former peers has not grown easier.

Wincing as the rough rope of the bucket burns the center of your palms, you almost sigh but instead freeze at the sight before you.

You’d know his silhouette anywhere.

The light is low here, a small lamp just beyond the open garden gate illuminates them from behind and hides their expressions but you don’t need to see to understand.

Her lips are parted, head pressed back against the door, hand braced against the warm brown and ornately carved wood. Her legs are parted a little too wide, a subtle motion of his left arm and the bunch of fabric around his forearm tell you enough of what you’ve stumbled upon.

You’re embarrassed and try to fade back into the darkness of the small courtyard behind you.

His shoulder length hair, black as a raven’s feather, is disheveled. You notice her hand gripping it tightly as his arm pumps.

A wispy, sultry moan slips through her parted lips and you stumble, gasping your own bit of surprise as you try not to spill the bucket’s contents.

A small splash, luckily away from you but the shuffle of feet and the rustle of fabric tells you that you’ve been noticed.

You look up, Lord Loki stands facing you, hands fisted as she hides behind him quickly adjusting her skirts.

“Oh, it’s you,” Lord Loki says, disdain in his voice.

Everyone here hates you. You already know this. Your father’s sins are your own. Nothing can change that.

“Finally where you belong,” the girl says and you recognize the voice with a small shock of pain in your chest. “You smell like piss.”

Lord Loki chuckles and you shrink just a little. More embarrassed by your own situation than catching them in the act. In fact, you’re disgusted by both of them, not only because of their audacity to do this at all, but because the woman whose fingers Lord Loki were just in is also your once beloved’s fiance.

Your former confidant. Lady Amora Antress. You’d once considered her your closest friend. Now here she stands, betrothed to one brother while fucking the other. The venom she spits at you is also unappreciated and painful to hear.

How long had she hated you before your downfall? How long had she waited before pursuing Thor?

“Aren’t you going to reply to her ladyship, servant?” Lord Loki asks, gleeful mirth in his voice as he takes a step towards you.

You bow your head even more, holding the bucket in your hands as still as you can while your hands struggle with the burn of the rope.

Amora scoff, “Pathetic. Leave her be, Loki. She’s where she deserves to be. She’s not worth the breath in our lungs.”

You don’t mean to cry. The utter betrayal of your once friend hurts more even than the loss of your once future husband.

“Are you crying?” Amora laughs, moving around Lord Loki, her shoes clicking against the brick of the courtyard. She stops in front of you, arms crossed over her ample bosom, still exposed more than it should be from what she and Lord Loki were just about to do. “You’re pathetic. The least you could do is be invisible while you serve.”

You say nothing, fist tightening around the rope. Pain shifts into rage at the cruelty in her words.

The wind blows and you can smell the scent of their near copulation. Luckily, it’s driven away by the vines of jasmine that creep along the tops of the brick wall.

She doesn’t deserve Thor. But you know that he never deserved you either. The rate at which he moved on…

Almost as if she’s sensing your thoughts, she takes a step closer and drops her voice to a whisper. You know Lord Loki will still be able to hear.

“Poor little flower, so careless and trusting.” She smiles. “You know it was so easy to seduce Thor. Even before your disgrace of a father betrayed his kingdom, Thor came to my bed often. Such a chaste little thing you were. You had no idea that every night after he whispered sweet promises in your ear of a happy future, he was burying his cock deep in my cunt, whispering how glorious I felt around him. Promising that even after you married, he would slip away and fuck me because no cunt could be as good as mine.”

Whore. Your heart shattered. Finally your eyes met hers.

She took a slight step back at whatever she saw in them. The hatred coursing through you set your teeth on edge. You wanted so much to rip her hair from its roots. If you could gouge her eyes out with your fingers without the consequence of a beheading, you would.

Perhaps she could see that promise of death in your eyes.

She scoffed, a reaction to whatever fear she felt in that moment.

“Now, now, ladies.” Lord Loki chastised, “Let’s keep things civil.”

“Civility? From a servant?” Amora looked at him then back at you, her hateful smirk twisting her pretty face into an ugly mask.

No…this is her true face. Her long blonde hair, pale skin, and green eyes might make her superficially beautiful, but you can see the true ugliness in her now.

“Trash knows no civility.” She spits.

Done with this encounter you make to move around her to finish your duties. You need rest. Body and now soul exhausted, the sanctuary of your quarters beckons like a beacon.

She steps in your way, smiling cruelly as she does.

You make to move around her again. She blocks you once more.

Body shaking with rage, you don’t bother stopping this time as she steps in front of you. Instead you let yourself fall against her, your bucket sloshing loudly as you angle the wide opening towards her.

The smell of piss and shit slices through the scent of sex and jasmine.

Amora screams, stepping back quickly until she bumps into Lord Loki who quickly pushes her away from himself, a wrinkle of disgust on his handsome face.

The green damask pattern of her silk gown grows slowly darker as the piss soaks into the fabric. A dark brown stain sets in towards the bottom.

“You probably should have moved out of my way, my lady.” The casual tone of your voice, the respect you can now fake like a professional grifter sounds so real that your taunt sounds like an apology.

“You bitch!” Amora growls.

Lord Loki catches her by the arm before she can move towards you.

“Perhaps, Lady Antress, you may want to go and change? If what you say is true and my brother will seek you out, I doubt very much he’d desire your company if you smell like shit and piss. No matter how delicious your cunt may be.” Lord Loki’s smirk gives away his delight at Amora’s distress.

Almost as soon as he’s grabbed her, he drops his hand and angles himself away from her slowly to avoid being soiled as well.

“Forgive me, my lady,” you curtsy, a perfect bow. “It was an accident.”

Amora glares at you then looks at Lord Loki who has taken to pressing the fingers of his right hand against his nose to shield from the smell, affixing her with a look of amused disgust.

Amora huffs, “Fuck you.” Then turns and stomps past you across the courtyard and disappears into the castle.

“That was nicely done,” Lord Loki says once you’re alone.

You give him a quick curtsy and move towards the gate to toss the remaining waste where it belongs in the river just past the far end of the large hedged garden.

Ignoring the sound of his following footsteps against the gravel and footstones, you wander through the fragrant rows of flowers.

“If anyone had been watching, no one would have doubted your sincerity with that apology.” He declares, hastening his footsteps to catch up with you, settling in to your right as he matches your pace. “I’m impressed. You never gave me the impression that you even knew how to lie let alone be deceptive.”

Grinding your teeth, you attempt to ignore him. You don’t engage.

He reaches out to grab your arm but you stop and twist away from him, disgust on your face as you stare at his left hand pointedly.

For a moment he looks confused and then laughs once in realization and takes his hand back.

“You won’t tell my brother, will you? About my…meeting with Lady Antress?” Lord Loki doesn’t sound like he actually cares.

You know that he and Thor never truly got along once they were of age. As children they had been inseparable. You’d followed them around and they’d welcomed you into their company as a playmate despite your gender.

Not until you also were of age did you realize that your parents and their parents had seen your friendship as an indicator of good fortune for a future marriage.

As the elder brother, Thor had been chosen. Your heart, having been devoted to Thor even as a girl, had been so full. Eagerly you’d thrown yourself into the arrangement of your marriage. Only now did you begin to realize that perhaps your heart had been the only one truly invested in the promises that Thor had made.

Agony cuts you again, tearing your heart apart a little more as the feeling of stupidity makes your eyes prick with tears again.

“Did you truly not know that Thor and Amora were fucking?” Lord Loki asks, voice devoid of anything but genuine curiosity.

A tear slips down along your cheek as you turn and resume your walk. Lord Loki follows.

“You wound me.” He says, voice low. “Were we not also friends before?”

Scoffing, you readjust the bucket and wince at the pain of the rope as you feel your skin break. You drop it, Lord Loki stepping back quickly but nothing splashes out this time. Most of the contents were currently soaking through Amara’s gown.

You lift your hand up, staring at the peel of skin and the slick of the pink muscle beneath as red begins to pool along the edges of the tear.

Just another wound. It’ll seal and heal and scar, joining the others on your once smooth hands.

The bite of pain gives you a reason to let your tears fall. You don’t hold them back as you sob quietly, uncaring of the audience to your humiliation.

“He’s an asshole,” Lord Loki states, stepping up in front of you. “Always has been. Arrogant, proud, and foolhardy. Thinks with his cock more than his brain.”

Again, you scoff. The irony of Lord Loki, whom you just caught fingering your former best friend in the garden, telling you that Thor thinks first with his cock does not escape you.

Lord Loki clears his throat, embarrassed?

“If I’d been your betrothed,” Lord Loki continues. “I’d have worshiped the ground you walk on.”

“You’re a liar, and just as susceptible to Amara’s games as he apparently is. Does it make you feel happy to sleep with your brother’s fiance? Does it give you pleasure to betray him?” You spit at him, angry at yourself, at Thor, at Amara, at your father and brother.

You’re just so angry. You’re always angry now. Even when you’re sad, you’re angry.

“Are you really worried about my betrayal against him when Amara just exposed him for the hypocrite he is?” Lord Loki demands, a little affronted by your ire.

Biting down hard on your lip, you squeeze around the wound on your hand.

“You’re all hypocrites. All of you deserve each other.” You realize and reach down to take the bucket again but are stopped by Lord Loki’s hand as it takes hold of the bucket for you.

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead moves towards the gate at the end of the garden.

Quickly, you hurry after him, eager to take the bucket from him before anyone might look out onto the grounds and see him interfering with your duties. The punishment you’d receive would be painful.

“My Lord, please,” you finally beg, unable to really catch up with his long legged stride. “I’ll be punished if they find out.”

Lord Loki says nothing but strides out through the gate into the wooded expanse behind the garden.

Expertly, probably from the many hunts he’s gone on around the castle, he winds through the trees towards the rushing river whose roar you begin to hear.

“My Lord,” you hurry after him, nearly catching up but then he turns and disappears behind a tree only to emerge before another one. “Please,” you beg.

Taking a quick glance behind you towards the castle and its countless illuminated windows, you don’t see anyone watching but panic has begun to take hold.

He shifts and turns, stomping over the wild grass, the occasional crack of twig or fallen branch as he steps onto it, eaten by the rush of the water now louder.

You’re almost running now to keep up with him and still you lose sight of him when he turns around a particularly large tree. You stop beside it, scanning the area for him desperately.

The dungeons are so damp this time of year. You don’t want to get locked up if you can help it. Illness is something you don’t have much experience with and with your body weak and unhealthy now compared to the grace and flush of perfection you’d been with money and a constantly full belly, you might succumb to any serious illness.

You don’t want to die, despite the hardships you face.

With no sign of him, you move towards the section of river you always go to empty your buckets.

Minutes later you break through the treeline and spot Lord Loki crouched by the water, damp bucket set beside him now empty and rinsed.

Breathing heavily, you try to catch your breath and press your hand against your thundering heart, forgetting for a moment about the wound there and hiss.

Lord Loki rises, turning to look at you with a furrowed brow as he shakes the water from his hands and dries them on his dark emerald jerkin. He pulls down the puffed sleeves of his black shirt, fastening them around his wrists again but only finishes one before he’s holding his hand out for you.

“Come,” he orders. Not a request.

You don’t move, holding your wounded hand still as you watch him, pale skin nearly glowing in the light of the moon.

“Come here,” he orders again and this time you move towards him only a step. He steps towards you once, his hand held up again with more emphasis. “Shall I say please? Am I wrong? Were we not also friends?”

He smirks, amused by your hesitation for some reason.

Asshole. How dare he throw the past in your face. It’s coercion to remind you of your bond as children.

Unwilling to let him get the satisfaction of seeing you be defiant, you close the distance between you.

He takes your hand, holding it up close so that he can see it clearly. The moon is bright enough that he can and he pulls you towards the river’s edge. Squatting down again, he pulls you down with him.

You kneel, inching towards the edge as he pulls your hand into the water.

A hiss escapes your lips as the water coats the wound, tugging at the bit of skin still holding on until it tears free.

He holds it under the water for a minute then brings it back up to examine, pulling your arm so that you shift to face him and he does the same, kneeling before you.

“It’ll scar,” he realizes, but notes the other small scars that now cover your palm underneath the base of each finger.

You watch him as he traces each scar with his thumb, the golden emerald ring on his finger cool to the touch after being submerged in the cold river water for a bit. It feels nice against the heated skin of your palms. The friction of the rope burning them both.

“I remember when your hands were soft,” he notes.

Self conscious, you make to yank your hand from his grip but he tightens it and meets your eyes in silent order not to try that again.

Holding your gaze, he brings your palm up towards his mouth. Heart hammering against your chest, you try again to yank it from him but his lips close around the wound.

A strange tumble of knots in your stomach work their way up into your chest and constrict your heart.

More strange than that, a shift between your legs has your face and neck burning. Ears so hot that the breeze of the late spring air feels cold in comparison.

“Stop that,” you tell him, voice weak from shock at both his actions and your body’s reaction to it.

He does. Pulling your hand away from his mouth to look the wound over.

“The bleeding stopped,” he states, then reaches for your apron.

The tearing of fabric sends our heart seizing but more arousal pools between your legs. Embarrassed, you look away from him as he wraps your hand tightly. He must have dealt with many small injuries on his hunts because he ties the wrap around your palm securely and nothing save for cutting the fabric away will undo it.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asks, voice low and deep. Almost dark in the way it slithers across your skin in a sultry embrace.

“No.” You answer honestly. “And it’s probably only because I caught you and you didn’t get to stick it in Amara.”

He releases your hand as you pull against his grip but he reaches forward to place his hand on your cheek. His left hand.

You almost pull away but remember him drying his hands on his vest. He’d deliberately washed both hands. Why?

“I meant what I said,” he whispers. “I would have worshiped the ground you walk on. I still can, if you’ll let me.”

“I’m a servant,” you spit, turning to look at him with anger and betrayal. “Anything you do to me will be forced merely by the fact that I cannot deny you anything you might want.”

Lord Loki frowns.

“You think so badly of me?” He wonders, hurt in his green eyes.

Your mind flashes back to your childhood. You, Thor, and Lord Loki running to the stables of his estate. You fall. Both Thor and Lord Loki stop but it’s Lord Loki that rushes back to you, helping you up and dusting you off as you cry loudly.

Thor rushes away, laughing in his eagerness to mount his horse.

More memories of your childhood assault you with images of Lord Loki and his kindness. Frequent acts of compassion and what you might have once considered friendly love. Thor’s are fewer and mostly contained to the days after your betrothal had been agreed upon.

“You will never be a servant to me,” Lord Loki assures you.

“It is what I am,” you counter. “You cannot simply ignore it.”

Lord Loki sighs, “You’ve always been so stubborn.”

He lets his hand glide down along the side of your neck, over your shoulder, down along your arm, and then he settles it along the side of your waist, the shape stiff thanks to the corset underneath.

It’s almost unbearable that he’s here, in your shame of servitude. His touch is confusing. You almost ask him why it feels so strange but instead focus on what’s most important.

“Is it true?” you ask, voice wary and quiet.

“Is what true?” There are so many things you could mean, you realize.

Part of you almost doesn’t want to know. So you hesitate.

Something softens in Lord Loki’s eyes as if he suddenly knows what you’re going to ask.

“Were…did Thor and Amara…?” You shake your head, trying not to let the pain show.

“Yes,” he answers, voice firm. He wants you to know that it’s true. No hesitation in his answer. “A few times even with you nearby. You almost caught them a handful of times. Were you only a few moments earlier or later.”

Head falling, you can’t help the tears that spring forth. So much of your past had been a lie. The strength of your house. The friendships you held dear. Your betrothed hadn’t truly loved you. If he had, he would not have betrayed you.

“My brother paints a pretty picture. Despite what he wants others to think he is changeable. He is impatient. Clearly that was his undoing with you. He is rash and prideful. He doesn’t think about what he does before he does it and because he would be insulted by it, would it not be sweet revenge to dangle what he wanted most in the open for all to see?” His words are slow and sure.

The last bit of his speech is careful and calculated. You can hear the manipulation in his words even though he tries not to let you. You’ve known him too long. Lord Loki also changed when you were betrothed to Thor. A shift of his usual kindness had taken place and the sneering Lord had been born. Intent on his own machinations to pry forth the dreary truths of his life.

He’d never been cold and harsh but he became so after your engagement. Thor had called him a snake and even then you could see it. The skill with which Lord Loki had developed his manipulating tactics and the precision with which he enabled them are known to you.

So you know what he’s saying even if he won’t say it clearly.

He takes hold of your chin and slowly lifts your head until he can see your eyes. There’s a strange eagerness in his own greens as he tries to read you. There’s a question there, an uncertain probing as his hand at your waist grows tighter, wrapping around to rest on your back, arching your body towards him.

That strange feeling between your legs surges. It’s Amara’s sneering face that breaks down your defenses. It’s the pride in her words as she’d bragged about being with Thor while you were still betrothed to him that shatters your will.

You do want to get revenge. You want Thor to know that you don’t care anymore. That he means as little to you now as you did to him then.

And what better way to show him that than with the one person he’d hate it happening with the most?

He might overlook some random stablehand. He might ignore some merchant’s son, even if he were above your station.

With Lord Loki…the bite would be as harsh as the sting of Amara’s venom was to you.

“Loki…” you whisper and he surges forward.

His lips are over yours, moving and massaging as you at first merely take his kiss.

He hates it. He pulls back and tilts his head the other way, kissing you more enthusiastically, trying to draw some type of reaction from you.

It’s taking you longer to submit than you thought it would take.

He pulls back one final time and tilts his head back again before this time pressing his lips against your own slowly. He doesn’t move then but instead waits, puckering against yours as he tugs you towards him instead of shoving himself onto you.

Strong lithe arms wrap around your waist and pull you up onto your knees and against his chest. He holds you so close, so tight. It isn’t rough or demanding but needy. As if he can’t get you close enough to his own body and he can only draw you closer and closer in the hopes that it’ll fill something in him that needs filling.

You place your hands on his shoulder as you tilt your head back with his kiss.

Finally, you find the strength in your body and pucker your own lips and return this gentle kiss.

Shock flashes in his eyes as he opens them to look at you. You watch the confusion bloom in them but then shut your own and give in.

Loki’s lips part and envelop yours. It shocks you the way it sends those knots back into your stomach. In response you do the same, enveloping his lips with your own.

Loki’s hands splay out against your back and he groans as he opens his mouth and the tip of his tongue slides against the crease of your lip in question.

In answer, you open for him and welcome his searching tongue with your own. The taste of him, the scent of him, it overwhelms and you gasp as you lose yourself in the moment.

You feel his hands drift around to your front, his right sliding up along your bodice until he can cup your breast, a groan slipping through his lips as he breaks your kiss and traces wet open kisses along your jaw, neck, and shoulder.

“Loki…” you gasp without ever having given your mouth permission to speak.

He bites your neck when you say his name. You moan and he licks the spot to soothe it.

“Loki…” You whisper again.

He’s driven mad by it and before your mind can understand what is happening, he’s laying over you, hands moving wildly underneath your back, running along your sides, fumbling around until he finds where your dress is fastened and he pulls at the ties.

“Should I stop?” He asks, breathless and looking as if he would like nothing more than to keep going.

“No.”

“Mm,” he moans and kisses you again, tongue claiming your mouth as his own.

You can feel him tearing away your apron and then your dress. Too eager to pull it off you completely, he merely shoves it down so that he lays spread out along your waist.

He looks down at you, the corset you wear hiding very little of your breasts. He kisses them each in turn, the soft fleshy bits that pool up above your undergarment.

You shudder at the touch of his lips.

“Has anyone kissed you here before?” He wonders. You’re not sure if he wants  an answer or not but you shake your head anyway.

As he nuzzles the soft flesh, his hands work on the corset, pulling at strings blindly until it gives way and he pulls it off of you exposing you completely.

The cool air of the night perks your nipples more than his touch already has and he takes both breasts in his hands, pushing them together as he stares to the point of embarrassment.

Before you can cover yourself, he takes one into his mouth, suckling softly to draw soft moans from your open mouth.

He sees it, your gaping mouth, and seals it with his own, his tongue nearly in a frenzy as he devours your whimpers.

Cool air hits your suddenly exposed legs. You gasp sharply as he thrusts suddenly and the hard press of his cock rubs against you, shielded only by the fabric of his pants.

“Shall I stop?” He asks again, hands running down along your torso where he takes each breast in hand, massaging them slowly before rolling each of your nipples in slow deliberate circles.

“Don’t stop.”

It’s almost torture when he removes his hands from your overheated body. But you enjoy the sight as he removes his jerkin, followed shortly by his shirt. His body is sculpted but tight, not bulky. Lithe limbs hard and eager as he reaches down beneath your skirts in search of what he desires.

He hisses when his fingers touch you, soaking wet, and you reach down to hold his wrist not to stop but simply to hold on.

The thought crosses your mind that he’s already had someone else like this tonight and it almost makes you pull away. You’re so close to stopping but he sees the thought in your eyes and leans over you, removing his hand he leans over you, pressing his chest against yours and silencing your thoughts with a slow kiss.

It burns through you, the meaning clear.

“Shall I only touch you from now on, darling?” he whispers, kissing your chin then suckling along your throat.

He’ll leave marks…

“Tell me and I will only touch you.” He promises.

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep, Loki.” You chastise him, mood nearly breaking again at the memory of the endless promises Thor had made you.

“I will never break a promise to you. Tell me to refrain and I will. I meant what I said,” he kisses his way up to your ear, licking the shell of it before hot breath sends your skin prickling. “I will worship the ground you walk on if you will only let me.”

He thrusts again. You shut your eyes, gasping at the cock straining for freedom.

“H-How do I know I can trust you?” You ask, unintentionally letting him see how desperate you are to do so.

He kisses you again, genuine and hungry for it.

“Give me a week and I shall truly prove it. Trust me until then and you shall see the depths of my willingness and devotion.”

He thrusts again and maybe you’re a fool for allowing yourself to consider this when he’s got you right where he wants you, but you nod.

“Only touch me,” you order him.

He smirks. He reaches down between your legs again and with one finger slowly strokes from the bottom of your cunt to the top, the lurid sounds of your wetness poignant despite the rushing river beside you.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises.

One finger. He uses only one finger and the pressure is intense. Sensations you’ve never felt before awaken every nerve ending in your body. His thumb presses against your clit and you nearly sit up with the shock of pleasure that rushes through you.

He adds a second finger, moving slowly as he pumps them in and out.

“Shall I stop, darling?”

“Never stop,” you gasp, still gripping his wrist.

Another smirk on that handsome face, his green eyes dazzling you as he shifts back to his knees.

He licks his lips as he pulls a tie free at the front of his trousers and slowly pushes them lower and lower until he can kick free of them completely.

The length of him is breathtaking. He reaches down and strokes his cock, slowly running his thumb along the shiny pink head before he scoots closer, your skirt blocking him from view.

He rubs himself against you, slicking himself with your own arousal.

There he waits, watching you as you brace your hands on the soft grass beneath you but open your legs wider.

Your eyes meet and both of you know that there will be no coming back from this choice. Nothing either of you do will ever erase this line you’ve nearly crossed completely.

He pushes in slowly, leaning over you as he gets deeper and deeper until he’s buried completely. Chest to chest. Face to face. He grunts deep, face twitching as he settles within you.

It’s so much pressure it’s painful. The feeling of him is so foreign. You’re not sure whether it feels good or not.

“Fuck,” he whispers and tenses then shudders. You feel a wave of heat within you, followed by the sensation of slow moving drippage. “You feel…”

He seems lost for words. Do you feel terrible?

He pulls his hips back just a bit and pushes back in.

You whimper, pushing against his chest to look down where your bodies connect.

“Loki,” you fret.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises. “Be calm my sweet. I will ease you into this.”

Each thrust into you, his pelvis pushes against your clit and each time you moan, wishing he’d do that more. The feeling of him is filling, strange, but not unpleasant. Just different.

As your body relaxes a bit more, Loki’s thrusts grow faster. You smile unintentionally as he presses against your clit more often.

“You like that?” he wonders, stopping as he pushes all the way in and then rolls his hips against you.

Your responding moan gives him confirmation and he settles himself over you fully.

As he thrusts he presses harder against you, lingering for a moment before doing it again and again. The slap of his skin against yours grows louder and he finds a rhythm that has you both breathless and moaning.

“Loki,” you plead, feeling the build up of tension within your body.

“Come for me, darlin,” he kisses you, subduing your voice as he pumps into you.

You’re unsure for certain what he means but your body seems to listen. You wrap your legs around him, holding him as close as you can as he continues to thrust into you. The sweat of his body glistens in the moonlight. The soft silk of his hair tickles your skin as he arches up slightly so that he can take your breast into his mouth again as he keeps pumping into you.

You feel it…so close.

“Loki,” you whimper, wanting to reach the end of this tightrope.

He growls once and brings his hand down between your connected bodies. His thumb presses against your clit firmly. He presses and presses, rolling it in small circles with such precise pressure.

Your body explodes into endless fuzzy light. You arch into him, trembling as his thumb continues to draw pleasure from you in spasms as he keeps moving his cock in and out.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts and thrusts one final time his whole body tight in its release as that same sensation of heat fills you again.

Both of you seem to have stars in your eyes as he collapses on top of you, kissing you slowly with his eyes wide open to watch the expression of pure bliss on your face.

“I think-” Loki says, pulling back as he slowly helps to pull your dress up a bit to cover your exposed breasts. He kisses each one before he does so. “-it goes without saying that I would appreciate it if I was the only one allowed to touch you.”

You’re floating, swathed in golden light, unable to process anything he’s saying because of the pure escape from and yet complete connection to your body Loki’s cock just gave you.

You hear him chuckle. He pinches your cheek, drawing your attention back to him.

“Agreed?”

“What?” You gasp breathlessly.

“No one may touch but me. And I will touch no one but you.” He declares. “Is that understood?”

The authority in his voice draws your legs wide as that throbbing from before is renewed.

Loki’s face twitches at the movement.

“Show me again,” you plead.

“Tell me no one else will touch you,” he orders.

“No one else will touch me,” you agree.

“If you betray me,” you begin.

Loki’s eyes soften. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

“I promised you that I would worship the ground you walk on.”

He kisses you again, slowly, feeling every inch of your mouth against his.

“One week, my darling. I’ll prove to you my devotion.” He promises.

The sincerity in his voice has your legs spreading again and he hisses as you shift. Inside you, you feel him harden.

“Show me…” you beg.

“You’re going to be insatiable.” He realizes.

And revenge against Thor aside, you realize that being with Loki might be the smartest thing you’ve ever done.

“Do you have any idea how long I have waited to make you mine?” Loki wonders, stroking your cheek.

“How long?” You wonder, reaching up to take hold of his hand.

“I’ll show you.”

There will be NO tags.

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 2)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

@tatumrileyslover @nocturnest @i-keepmyideals @eddiestans-blog here you go!

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It has been exactly six days since Billy dropped you home that Monday after the trip. The following days he never fails to greet you if you cross paths in the hallways. He hasn't ignored you once, even though you haven't called him yet. The truth is, you are terrified of doing so. When you think about dialing his number, two days later, you think it's too soon and you will look desperate, so you put the phone receiver back in its place. At the same time, you keep mulling over his words. 'Call me when you feel like it'. It means you don't have to call him right away, maybe he really means to call him when you feel like it. On Saturday morning, you decide it's the perfect time to call him. Enough time has passed to avoid seeming desperate, but not so much that it seems like you don't want anything to do with him. You need to repay the favor, and even though it's pouring rain outside, you pick up the phone.

After a couple of hours of pondering and racking your brain, you decide to take the risk and go for it. You had written Billy's number down as soon as you got inside, safely on a piece of paper. As the phone rings, you're already regretting your decision, feeling nervous as hell.

“Hello,” a girl's voice answers.

“Oh, um, hello. Is Billy there?”

You definitely didn’t expect a girl to answer. She sounds very young.

“Hold on,” she says, sounding bored. You quickly move the phone away from your ear as she screams Billy’s name.

A few seconds later you hear the rustle of the phone being moved around. “...cking yelling like a banshee. Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N” you say, hoping he remembers your name. It would be weird if that’s the case.

“Hey. What’s up?” he says instead.

You instantly feel relieved. 

“You told me to call you when I wanted. I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“‘Course not,” he says. “You okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. And you?”

“Yeah, same. What you’re doing today?”

“Um, nothing special.” You glance at the window. “The weather is awful. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite?” It feels like you’re inviting him on a date. It’s embarrassing. “Since it’s raining.” Now you’re repeating yourself. You’re glad he can’t see you blushing furiously as you keep rambling. “I mean, remember you told me you wanted to see more of Hawkins? I saw the weather and thought about this place. It’s a bit outside of town. If you don’t have anything planned.”

“Yeah, sure. Just need to finish working on some stuff. I can pick you up at seven.”

“Seven is perfect,” you say, your heart still hammering in your chest. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

You change clothes at least three times, unable to decide what to wear. You don't even know why you're making such a big deal out of it—it's not a date, just an outing between friends. Actually, you two aren't even that close. But don't dwell on that too much; what is the reason for your outing, anyway? Originally, it was to show Billy the rest of Hawkins. Dinner is part of that plan, but Benny's Burger isn't one of the places he mentioned, even though it's a bit more isolated. However, that didn't seem to bother him. This time, you decide to bring enough money to pay for both of you. It's the least you can do.

Despite anticipating this moment with secret enthusiasm, seven o'clock arrives faster than you'd like. You leave the house in the pouring rain to find Billy's Camaro idling in front of your trailer, its low rumble cutting through the night. You hurry to open the door and close your umbrella, trying not to let any water into the car. As you settle into the seat and turn to greet him, your breath catches. You try not to look too impressed by the sight of him as you fix your wet hair, but a quick glance is enough to get your heart racing. You’re increasingly convinced that this man has no physical flaws, and that thought destabilizes you. He’s wearing a white tank top under a black leather jacket, with blue jeans that fit like they were tailor-made for him. As he puts his hand on your seat and looks over his shoulder to back up, he manages to keep his cigarette firmly between his fingers, one hand on the steering wheel. You take the opportunity to steal a glance at him. The movement brings him closer, and the scent of his cologne reaches your nostrils, making your skin prickle. His long curls are perfectly styled, reminding you of a lion.

“I didn’t think you’d actually call.” he says as he shifts from reverse to first, heading toward the end of the trailer park. 

“Oh,” you say. “Why is that?”

“Dunno.” he chuckles, his long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “Maybe you were scared of me or something.”

His sentence moves something inside you. "Oh. Not at all,” you say, your voice carrying a hint of determination. You are determined to make him understand that you may be shy, but you are not a fragile little thing. "I'm not scared of you."

“You’re not?” his voice is like a low rumble, it burns through you and sets you on fire.

“Uh-huh.” your mouth feels dry, and you distract yourself by feeling the hot air coming out of the vent with your hands.

“Good.” 

When you walk into Benny's Burger, it's practically deserted. There's just a couple of old gentlemen. From the way they are dressed, they look like fishermen. It looks like they have recently ordered because there is only cutlery and two glasses of beer on their table. Benny Hammond comes to take your order and greets you warmly. He and your dad are good friends, they went to school together here in Hawkins. Billy orders a double burger and a large portion of fries, and you order a steak with a small portion of fries. You were afraid the evening would be punctuated by few words and awkward silences. Billy is not the biggest of talkers, but the feeling of uneasiness quickly vanishes as the night goes on. You tell him about your dad and Benny, recounting how your dad was born and raised in Hawkins. When you tell him about his travels, you linger and talk a lot about California. Billy is curious about what your dad did there for five years. Then you tell him how he went to Jamaica alone and risked his life several times but had a good time. Then Billy tells you how his group of friends in California had been very diverse, two of them being a Jamaican and a Filipino. He tells you how good their mothers' cooking was when he was invited to eat at their house. You are surprised how the conversation always manages to bounce back. 

Half an hour later, Billy has cleared his plate. You, on the other hand, are still struggling to finish your steak, so he finishes it for you. You comment in amazement that he eats like a horse, then immediately apologize, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Billy laughs and tells you he does weight training five times a week. You feel like saying you've noticed, but luckily manage to stop yourself in time and avoid further embarrassment.

You insist on paying to make up from last time, but Billy refuses categorically. You feel guilty, but his stubbornness prevents you from doing anything else. When you leave the restaurant, it has stopped raining. The smell of rain rises from the asphalt of the car park. As you walk towards the parked Camaro, you cross your arms over your chest, suppressing a shiver. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy take off his jacket.

"No, don't take it off, I'm good, really." you tell him, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Here,” Billy drapes it over your shoulder anyway. The weight of a jacket and the smell of leather envelop you. You try not to show your surprise as his warm hand gently squeezes the back of your neck. “Just wrap it around yourself. Don’t wanna catch a cold.” 

His hand seems to leave an imprint on your skin. You didn’t know you would like his touch so much until now. The sound of zippo rips through the silence and your mind. Billy walks past you, the orange glow of a freshly lit cigarette is the only light in the evening darkness. He opens the driver’s door and bents inside, inserting the keys and fiddling with the radio. You lean your back against the side of the car, enveloped in the warmth of his jacket, still carrying the lingering heat from his body. You breathe through the collar of it, smelling the faint scent of his cologne. 

The gentle guitar strumming of ‘Landslide’ wafts through the air as Billy closes the door, windows down, and leans against the car, beside you. You turn towards him, your eyes dragging over his body covered only by his wifebeater. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip of it vibrating until it almost turns red. 

"You’re sure you're not cold?" you ask, daring to be a bit bolder and nudging his shoulder gently.

Billy nudges you back, mumbling around his cigarette. “Hey, I’m a tough guy.”

You softly shake your head at his answer, looking at the trees in front of you, forming a wall of darkness, a trickle of wind shakes them slightly in the breeze. “I love this song,” you say with a soft smile. Then you look at him. “I didn’t know you liked Fleetwood Mac”.

“What did you think I liked?” Billy asks after exhaling the smoke, taking the cigarette from his mouth.

“I don’t know,” you hesitate, hoping he doesn't misinterpret your words. “I thought you were more into metal. Just ‘cause I heard you playing it from your car sometimes.” you hastily add.

Billy hums in acknowledgment. “So you were watching me, huh?”

“No, it’s not that! You just, sometimes the music is very loud.” 

He laughs, and it’s such a pleasant sound. It makes your insides swirl. “S’alright. I do play my music very loud.” he flicks the cigarette on the ground, the glowing ashes extinguishing silently on the wet asphalt. “I listen to metal, yeah, but I like rock in general. Hard rock, folk rock,” he jerks his head to his right where the music comes from. 

You hum thoughtfully, tightening his jacket around you. “That’s nice. I think they’re among my favorite folk rock bands.

“Those guys?”

“Yes.” 

Billy nods his head. “They’re cool, yeah. What else do you like?”

You hum while thinking. “There’s lots. My dad likes all these rock bands, like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and a bunch of others. I picked it up from him. He used to blast them in the house when I was little," you recall with a soft smile. "He's a big fan."

“Well, well, well.” Billy grins in appreciation, his smoldering eyes on you. “Didn’t know little miss was so cool.” 

You let out a small laugh, and put a strand of hair behind your ear with a shake of your head to do something with your hands. You thank the night for hiding how flustered you are. “I just…” 

“What else are you hiding?” he tilts his head toward you, the warming mood bringing him closer than before, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“Not much.” you laugh again, unable to meet his eyes. 

“Huh-huh,” he mumbles playfully, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. 

You switch the conversation on him, to shift the attention from you. “And how did you start listening to rock?” 

Billy initially stays quiet. At a certain point, you’re almost convinced he either didn’t hear you or doesn’t want to answer.

“My mom.” he finally says. You look at him, instantly feeling the shift in his mood. “She listened to all this folk stuff, like Joni Mitchell, Mamas and Papas, Bob Dylan. I remember hearing it play in the house since I was a toddler.” he muses, and for a moment seems lost in the memory, breathes a silent laugh through his nose. “She was a bit of a hippie.”  

You can imagine his mom dancing barefoot in the living room, him mirroring her movement with a smiling chubby face, his bright blue eyes looking up in adoration at her.  

“And my old man didn’t like that part of her one bit,” he says then, his voice turning acidic. He flicks his cigarette again. “You meet someone and expect them to change what they are for you. Kinda makes sense, huh?” 

Something in the way he talks about her suggests to you that her mother is part of his past. You don't know on what level, but surely the whole thing didn't end well. And that's one of the sensitive topics regarding his life in California. 

‘Dreams’ starts playing next, filling the last few seconds of silence. It makes you think about the vinyl of that album you bought in Chicago when you spent part of last summer at your grandparents’. It was the right before your mom left.

"I think it’s kind of cool. It's usually always dads who listen to that music,” you say gently in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah, no.” Billy snorts. “Surely not mine. He thinks that’s the Devil’s music. Still into that conservative bullshit.”

“My grandma thinks the same,” you comment. “I had ‘Rumours’ on vinyl before.” you start, referring to the current song’s album. I bought it that summer when I visited them in Chicago. It got damaged shortly after buying it. I still think she broke it on purpose.

“Shit. That sucks.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s my favorite one.”

“Do you still have your record player?”

“Yes. I have a few other vinyls too.”

As the two of you continue to talk about music, a topic you didn't think you'd be on the same tune on, the mood returns to a lighter one. Soon later, the rain starts falling again stopping you in the middle of your conversation and you both realize it got late. Billy crushes his unfinished cigarette with his boot and you get in the car.

“Thanks for paying tonight. Again,” you tell him sheepishly once on the drive back home. 

Billy slightly lowers the radio's volume until the guitar strums are just background noise, his eyes fixed on the road. “There’s lots of other ways to make it up to me, but I won’t let you pay. Sorry, sweetheart." 

His tone suggests he's not sorry at all. It almost sounds like it’s out of the question for him. You try to ignore how the nickname makes your heart flutter, refusing to dwell on its meaning.

“But why?” 

“Because,” he chuckles, probably amused by how you seem fixated on the question. “It’s just the way it works.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” you mumble quietly, burying half of your face in his big jacket still wrapped around you and suppressing a shiver. 

“Shit. Does it always rain in this shithole?” he squints his eyes a little bit as he lifts the lever to increase the windshield wiper's speed. The rain is now pelting the car more aggressively. 

“I think it’s because you’re used to California,” you say gently. 

There still are a few droplets of water on his naked arms and shoulders. However, he doesn’t seem to feel cold since he’s not shivering.

“Guess so,” he mutters. 

For the first time, you notice he has a tattoo on his shoulder. It’s a skull smoking a cigarette. You wonder when he got it done, what does it represent? 

Before you can stop, your mouth talks. Your voice is quiet, but it is still audible. “That’s a cool tattoo.”

He turns his head toward you, and for a moment he seems surprised. Then his face settles back into a composed expression, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Yeah, you like it?" he responds casually, you swear his tone betrays a touch of warmth.

“Mh-mh.” you nod, feeling comfortable enough to say what you really think next. “It suits who you are.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath. “What do you think that is?"

Maybe it’s the relentless thundering of the rain over you, maybe it’s the fact that it’s pitch dark or you’re slowly being accustomed to being around him. You feel a sense of comfort enveloping you. 

“I think… You’re tough on the outside, you always act distant from what surrounds you, like you don’t care about anything and anyone. But deep down, you’re kind-hearted and really gentle.” 

The only sound breaking the silence is the soft hum of the music and the harsh drumming of rain against the car. Your swallow seems thunderously loud in the quiet, but the collar of his jacket offers some solace. Glancing at him, you breathe in the scent of leather and him, focusing on his forearms—robust yet slender—then his hands gripping the steering wheel, long fingers lightly wrapped around it. You wonder what it would feel like to have his arms around you, his hands on your waist, neck, cheeks. Every thump of your heart against your ribcage feels hyper-aware.

“Like, incredibly kind and gentle,” you venture, sensing the weight of your words. It's why you try to cloak yourself in the armor of a rough exterior, a fortress formed by sharp cutting gazes, sharky smiles and skinned knuckles. You want to say more, but it feels too personal, too revealing. You know he wouldn't handle it well. It would make him feel vulnerable, prompting him to close off. You guess he’s hiding some things from himself and the world, afraid it would spill over and flood the fragile sanctuary of his soul. 

Billy chuckles softly, his tone light yet evasive. "You're painting me as a real softie, aren't you?" his words carry a playful edge, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. His eyes won’t meet yours, though. There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. "Got it last year. The tattoo. Hurt like a bitch."

You notice his subtle attempt to divert the conversation. But you can’t blame him. You went a bit too hard. 

“I want to get one too. Someday,” you murmur. 

“Yeah?” he glances at you.”D’you have something in mind?” 

“Not really…I guess I’d have to think about it.”

“You should. It’s gonna be there forever. Unless you get it lasered off, which is a new thing. And that’s a whole other level of pain.”

Just to make you think about it makes you shiver. “Laser it…?”

“Yeah.”

Getting a tattoo is something you have to ponder for a long time indeed. And you’ve always had a penchant for changing your mind. Getting excited about ideas, projects, and it always seemed to work for a long time until you changed your mind. Or something happened and you consequently changed your vision of things. You’ve always been uncertain. Your life had a penchant for unexpected events and uncertainties as well.

“Maybe getting a tattoo is not for me,” you mumble. “I’m bad at making decisions. I feel like all of my life is going to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

As the car slows down, you realize you’re already driving on Forrest Hill trail road.  

“I mean…” you sigh, uncertain whether to delve into what’s on your mind and risk exposing yourself. But Billy opened up tonight, so you feel compelled to do the same. It also feels kind of natural. “In my life, things always seem to take unexpected turns. Often in a bad way. I can never know what to expect. And I don’t like that.”

The car comes to a halt, and you find yourselves parked in front of your trailer.

“Well, I could tell you ‘That’s the beauty of it’ or some stupid shit like that. But huh…” he chuckles, shaking his head as he rattles the pack of cigarettes in his palm to extract one. “My life has been a shit show itself. So, I get it.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say softly. That’s all you can say, you can only imagine from the vague piece of information he gave you. 

Billy shrugs as if to brush it off. It’s so natural it looks rehearsed. You wish you could tell him it does matter, that he deserved to have a happy childhood, he deserves a happy life.

“I wish I could at least have a hint. Even if it’s just one piece of information. I don’t like all of this uncertainty,” you continue. You've known Billy long enough to understand he doesn’t appreciate pity, or even anything that remotely seems like pity. “I wish I could see my future. My grandma…” you stop yourself with an embarrassed laugh. “I know this is gonna sound stupid. It’s probably not true anyways. But I’ve always wanted to get my palm read. My grandma used to know how to do it.”

Met with silence, you feel the familiar burn of shame and regret welling up inside you. Why would you say that? He’s probably thinking you’re crazy for believing in this stuff.

“Wanna give it a shot?” 

You turn toward him in surprise. “You know how?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at it.” he shrugs, putting the pack of cigarettes in the compartment. Then places his cigarette behind his ear. “Come on.” he holds his palm in invitation. You place your hand in his, palm facing up. 

“Alright,” he begins, tracing a line with his fingertip, “This here, is your headline. It’s curved and wavy, which means you’re creative and intuitive. You think outside the box, not afraid to follow your own path.”

You watch his face, his concentration as he reads your lines. “And this one. Huh. Oh yeah. See, your lifeline is strong and deep,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “That means you’re full of energy, and vitality. You’ve got resilience, no matter what life throws at you.”

He shifts his focus to another line, “An this, here, this is your fate line. Not everyone has one. Suggests you’ve got a purpose, something you’re meant to do, and it’ll shape your life significantly. Basically, your destiny is in your hands.”

His thumb moves lightly over your palm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Your skin is soft. How's it so soft all the time?” he almost mutters to himself. “Means you’re sensitive, maybe a bit sheltered. Shows you’re not letting anyone in. But it’s not a bad thing, you know what I mean?”

You could listen to his voice forever. It’s like a low melody, resonating deep within you.

“How do you know all this?” you breathe, your eyes studying his face. 

“Told you my mom was a hippie. She was into all of this stuff. Taught me how to do it. Shit”, he chuckles. “...haven’t done that since I was ten probably.”

Finally, he traces the heart line, deep and prominent. “And this,” he says, rubbing his finger across a line that nearly runs the full width of your palm. “is your heart line. It runs deep, straight across. It means you feel things intensely. You love deeply, but you also hurt deeply. See this?” he presses his thumb into the little fleshy space between the first and middle fingers, then meets your eyes. “When it curves outward like this, it means you’re willing to give a lot to the other person. Like, you give all of you.”

You are caught between the urge to look away from him and hold his gaze. His tourmaline eyes are two deep pools in which you swear you can lose yourself.

“I uh, we’ll see about that.” you manage to say. “I haven’t had anything like that before.”

“Haven’t had a boyfriend yet?”

A small laugh escapes your lips at your own embarrassment. His own slightly twitch too. “God, no. I haven't exactly been in the game.”

“So nada, huh?”

One of his thumbs caresses your palm, the other the skin of the inside of your wrist, drawing circles. It sends tingling along your body. A pleasant shiver that makes your whole body aware, a hot sensation in the pit of your stomach, all your nerves rising. You can feel something hanging in the air, a palpable tension, but you also wonder if it's just your imagination running wild. Being inexperienced as you are, perhaps it’s all in your head, and all of this is fueled by the undeniable attraction you feel toward him. Then Billy jerks his chin toward your right.

“Looks like your dad is waiting for you.” 

You follow the direction he’s pointing at. Indeed, the little light outside the trailer is lit. Your dad is peering at the small window on the door, you can see him munching a pickle in the meantime. As you’ve been burned, you quickly retract your hand from his.

You are grateful to your dad for entering the picture and getting you out of this situation. With him looking at both of you, you can do little other than simply greet Billy without a second thought. Had he not been there, you would surely have stumbled over your words.

“Oh, uhm. Sorry about that.” you chew at your bottom lip before looking back at Billy, an apologetic expression on your face. It’s embarrassing. “He was probably worried, he does that when I come back late. Oh,” you suddenly remember you’re still wearing his jacket, so you quickly take it off. “Here. Thank you. I’ll see you at school?”

Billy takes the jacket. “Yeah. See you there. Sleep tight.” 

You want to ask him if another hangout is on the program, but you don’t wanna press too much, so you hurry inside the trailer with your heart a little lighter and a thousand questions. In your bed, you keep replaying the hours spent with him unable to fall asleep. His change of tone and attitude when he talks about his parents lingers in the back of your mind. You don't know his story in depth, but you are increasingly convinced that he and you share more than you think.

[kit-williams]

*grabby hands* primarch breeding/ pregnancy kink p l s

Its that week for the community time to pay your taxes /j

Horus' lover accidentally said it's too quiet around when he's gone ✨️

(Cat/ lemon russ)

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @remembrancer-of-heresy @felinisnoctis @solspina

@the-californicationist

tw: I guess the soft/light yandere with how I write Horus; again smut

Perhaps you were jealous of how the Lady of the Iron Warriors could always stay with her husband perfectly safe. Though it made sense after all how safe the mistress of the siege was. But you? You had to stay until you could be summoned or till he returned to you which left you long lonely months without your husband or worse you fear given how the Great Crusade was going in certain parts it could be years given how some Primarchs do compliance... Perhaps that's why the Lord of Iron keeps the Lady of Iron close you once more jealously think.

"Should I tell Rogal that something in the wall has offended your sensibilities?" That warm voice flows over you as you are wrapped in his aura like a warm hug. Horus' aura felt like the wolf pelt on his armor was draped over you... it was warm and you could easily be smothered by how large it was.

"No... I just was thinking." You sigh as you wander over to him and feel the physical warm embrace. You couldn't wear anything to bed if Horus was joining you given how hot his body ran.

"What has got you thinking?"

"How I will miss you when you leave." You say with a sigh, "How much I will miss you... how I'm jealous of the Lady of the fourth given she can stay with Perturabo."

Horus chuckles, "He would get so sour without her around for more than a few months."

"How do you manage?" You ask looking up into his bright honey colored eyes.

"It's very hard but I know if I can finish the fighting quickly then I can get you to join me."

"Just it gets so quiet when you're gone." You lean against his arm as you pet his chest slowly feeling the way his arms wrap around you tightly.

"I'm sorry it gets quiet." He says in a whisper and you smile softly looking up at him with a loving look in your eyes but you blink looking at that intense look in his eyes. The tearing of fabric meets your ears just as your bare back meets the bed. Your head spinning as Horus moved you too quickly for your brain to comprehend that you moved through three rooms in a blink. "How about I make it up to you? I'll give you something to keep you busy." He says with his hands running down your waist before he snatches up the lube.

Excitement rushes down your spine as you try to slow him down and yet you're excited for the burn of the stretch aided by the lube... the slight discomfort that comes with him pushing his cock inside of your well trained body. Made for him as he often says and you shiver at the thoughts of his deep voice telling you how you were made for this moment... made to scream under him... made to be his perfect little partner... and while you didn't believe in a higher power you believed him. Screamed his name out instead of some deity as he easily took its place in your life... though that did change when he was away.

He made you feel so warm and fuzzy in the head. Your eyes rolling back as his hips met yours again and again... you ignored the way he was talking to someone else... were they in the room? Was it over his vox? It didn't matter what he said was all the same... The Legion Mother is feeling her usual upset before we part again. I am comforting her we will meet later... all you could do was open your mouth slightly and croak out his name.

"I'm going to give you a baby! So many babies to keep you distracted while I'm gone!" He says effortlessly without a grunt in his voice were a lesser man would have to given how eagerly he was spearing himself inside of you and it wouldn't stop until you passed out overflowing with his cum. He grinned down at you, "Certainly this time it will take!"

[megalony]

My Squad- Part 2

I have decided to make this a dad! Evan Buckley series, my first series for 911! Thank you all for the lovely feedback, I hope you like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@butlegendsneverdie@langdonzvoid@jennyggggrrr@rogmeddows@radiob-l-a-hblah@rogertaylorsbitontheside@chlobo6@rogertaylors-lipgloss@sj-thefanthefan@omgitsearly@luckytrashgooprebel@scarsout@deaky-with-a-c@killer-queen-ofrhye@bluutac@vousmemanqueez-blog@jonesyaddiction@milanosaurus@httpfandxms@saint-hardy@7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls@mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Series Taglist: @paramedicnerd004 @embersflame @allmybattleships

911 Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Evan hasn't been with the team long and has kept his family a secret, but now he is ready for the team to meet his daughters. All of them.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We can't hide in here forever, you know," (Y/n) mumbled each word breathlessly between delicate pecks against Evan's jaw. She could feel his laugh vibrate against his sweaty chest that her fingertips were grazing over, although her fingers mostly stayed around the tattoo over the left side of his chest.

Angelica was written in black cursive ink near the lower part of his ribcage and a pair of wings were hovering just above the very fancy A of her name. Just beneath that, Eleanor was written with a rose at the end and there at the bottom, Coraline was written with a shooting star flying beneath her name. Evan had all his girls' names right beneath his heart where they belonged and in the outline of a heart over his left wrist, he had (Y/n)'s name etched into his skin.

He had her name tattooed the moment Angel had been born. They were married and had a family together, despite what people always said about getting significant other's names done in ink, Evan knew this was different. He wasn't about to leave (Y/n) and if anything were ever to happen between them, she was the mother of his children. Nothing would change that.

"What're you doing?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he tilted his head down to look at his wife while his hands dug into her hips.

Evan was stood between her legs that were bound around his lower back, her heels digging into his hips ready to pull him closer if he dared move away. The forming outline of her stomach was pressed into his abdomen and his knees were resting against the counter. He had carried her from the shower- which got even steamier than he first anticipated when he went in alone and found his wife joining him a minute later- and placed her on the counter next to the sink. He wasn't planning on letting her go just yet.

"Wondering what name will come up next. What if we actually get a boy this time, where will his name go?" (Y/n) let her fingertip trace the cursive letters that she had seen countless times over the years. Each name appeared only a week after each girl had been born.

It surprised (Y/n) that Evan managed to go as long as he did at the station without anyone knowing about his family. Clearly no one had seen him getting changed to stripping down. They would find it rather strange if they saw three different girl names tattooed onto his skin.

"I've got it planned out, if we've somehow got a boy in there," He shifted his hands round from her hips to smooth over her stomach, not truly believing they had a boy this time. "His name and footprint will go somewhere round here," Evan briefly moved his hand to the right side of his chest for an indication before he went back to holding her stomach.

Evan just knew Angel would be a girl, it had been like intuition, he was telling everyone he had a daughter before she was born and they never found out beforehand. With Ella, they both thought they would have a boy, that the chance would be one of each. Then (Y/n) had been sure Cora would be a boy, the chances of three girls in a row seemed a bit far fetched. Evan, however, was comitted to the thought that he was having a tribe of girls, that he was just meant to be a girl dad and he was smug when Cora came along.

This time he couldn't see things being any different, his girls were his world and he was betting with Maddie that it would be a fourth girl to add to his squad.

"Sounds great," (Y/n) moved her hands up to cup Evan's face and bring him closer, drowning in his bright smile that made his ruby red lips spread thin. And those deep blue eyes that creased and twinkled when he smiled at her like that.

When his hands moved to her bum and he pulled her to the edge of the counter and bumped her into his hips, (Y/n) hooked her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. She breathed a small 'what are you up to' against his lips although she knew perfectly well what he was thinking when his hands slipped round to squeeze the underside of her thighs that he lifted higher onto his hips.

"You know I can't get more pregnant, right?" (Y/n) could barely find the breath or the will to speak but she loved the feeling of him laughing into her neck where he was sucking and biting another bruise she would have to cover up from the girls.

"They're getting up," Evan kissed a trail down her throat but it didn't matter how close he got to her, how needily he grabbed her flesh or rutted against her. It wasn't going to change the fact that he could hear the girls starting to wake up.

"You'd better be quick then, Buckley."

"Daddy,"

"Woah, babygirl, why're you hanging in doorways?" Evan stumbled back into the doorframe as he secured his left arm around (Y/n) and moved his right hand to briefly rub his eye for a moment. He looked down at Ella who was stood smack bang in the centre of the bathroom doorway when he opened the door.

He was glad he had put his pants on and that (Y/n) was wearing one of his shirts so they were covered and not exposed with their little menace lurking around corners like this.

Ella didn't answer. Instead, she tilted her head to the right and frowned. Her little hands reached out in a grabbing motion and she pointed at her mum before jumping up and down, trying to hint that Evan was carrying the wrong person around. That was where Ella should be, not her mum.

Evan leaned down to the side when (Y/n) slowly unravelled her legs from his waist and slid down until she was stood beside him with her head tucked into his chest to hide her smile from their pouting daughter.

"I'm gonna get Cora up," Reaching up on her toes, (Y/n) pressed a lasting kiss to Evan's jaw and with her hand that was already around his waist, she lopped her fingers into the elastic of his boxers and snapped them against his hip. She jumped out of his arms when he gasped and jolted forward and she hurried into the nursery before he could think twice about chasing after her.

"Me." Ella lifted her arms again and pouted until Evan swooped down to pick her up.

"Come on, I need to get dressed then we can have breakfast."

He settled Ella down in the middle of his and (Y/n)'s bed so he could get dressed, narrowing his eyes and sticking his tongue out at her to make her smile and giggle. Evan tightened his belt loop and shrugged on his shirt before he sat down on the edge of the bed to button it up and grab a pair of socks.

When he leaned over to put on his socks, Ella moved forward and leaned up on his back with her arms wrapped around his neck and her face nuzzled into his shoulder.

"Hungry?" He questioned as he stood up and looped an arm behind him to keep her stable on his back.

"Maybe,"

"Hm, only maybe?"

A smile lit up Evan's face when he headed downstairs and his sights set on his eldest girl walking just ahead of him towards the kitchen. Evan tilted his head towards Ella who was leaning over his shoulder and brought a finger to his lips before he creeped over towards Angel. When she was past the doorway to the kitchen, Evan swooped his left arm out and lifted Angel off her feet and spun round with one girl in each arm.

He could feel Ella squealing into his shoulder and Angel gripped his forearm and screamed happily as her feet left the ground and she felt her dad kissing the side of her head.

"Daddy!" Angel tilted her head back on his shoulder and kicked her legs out as he carried her through the kitchen towards the fridge.

When he reached the fridge, Evan turned around and pushed his back up to the counter until Ella could let go of him and sit down on the counter and he could hold Angel with both arms and turn her around so she was facing him. She looped her arms lazily around his neck and brushed her nose against his causing him to grin and squint at her.

"Morning sweetie," Evan kissed her cheek before he set her back down to her feet and he moved his hands out in front of him. "What's for breakfast?" He bent each finger except for his index and middle fingers on both hands and pressed his right fingers against his left wrist to sign 'breakfast'.

Evan liked the routine he had gotten into with the girls recently. When he was on shift in the morning, he would get up, have his breakfast with the girls and drop them at school on the way to the station. His shifts were falling into the twenty four hour category right now which Evan didn't mind because then he got a few days off in a row to be with the girls. It was easier than coming home late at night to only see them for bedtime or working nights and sleeping through the day until they came home from school.

He didn't like night shifts unless it was for a twenty four hour shift, he wasn't good at sleeping during the day, it warped his body clock.

"Scrambled eggs,"

"Grab me the eggs then, Ella, you want an omlette with me baby?"

"Yeah,"

Evan bypassed Angel and moved towards the fridge, reaching up towards the top shelf for the small carton of milk they had hidden up there. He couldn't have a coffee without milk but with Ella, it meant any milk they had needed to be kept away from everything else in the fridge and if some spilled in the kitchen, it had to be mopped up straight away.

There was also a rule that Angel couldn't use or get the milk out without one of her parents watching. They couldn't risk any spillages around Ella. And since Angel and (Y/n) both hated the vegan cheese that didn't use milk, they hid all the dairy products on the top shelf of the fridge.

He waited for Angel to crack some eggs into a jug and he leaned over her shoulder to pour a drop of milk in for her so she could put it in the microwave. Evan knew he didn't have to tell her by now that when she was finished with the jug and all her dishes, they went straight in the sink and didn't mingle with any of Ella's plastic plates or forks and such. Nothing of Ella's touched anything of theirs when dairy was concerned.

"Here you go baby," Evan handed Ella two eggs and a small tub of mushrooms and he got a pan out on the cooker. She was surprisingly good at not getting any shell in the pan.

He watched her closely, arching his back out and planting his hands down on either side of Ella on the counter while she threw a big handful of mushrooms into the pan. A grin pulled at Evan's lips when he leaned his forehead down onto Ella's shoulder and she started to shake her fingers through his hair like she was petting him.

They all worked like clockwork, a routine that had taken a lot of time to perfect and usually ended up with Evan almost being late to work until now.

Angel got the plates out and a plastic bowl for Cora to have some scrambled egg and Evan dished it all up just as (Y/n) walked into the kitchen with Cora in her arms.

"Do you want an omelette mummy?" Ella trotted with her plate towards the table and (Y/n) smiled at the girls but shook her head.

"No thank you baby."

Food wasn't agreeing with her lately, this was the first pregnancy that was actually giving (Y/n) a problem with morning sickness. She had been fussy about food when they were expecting Cora but lately, most smells were off-putting and when she tried to eat she was gagging and coughing before she even finished one bite of food. Breakfast was usually missed most days now and sometimes lunch was given a miss too.

"Here, have one of these," Evan scouted through the cabinet until he found the protein shakes he had hidden up there, just in case either of the girls saw them and thought they would snatch one.

He had bought a pack of protein bottles and a box of powder sachets to add to drinks so if (Y/n) wasn't eating, she was at least having something. Needless to say, Evan wasn't best pleased and turned very concerned when the midwife told them at their last scan that (Y/n) wasn't really putting much weight on during this pregnancy and he realised how little she was actually eating.

He made himself a quick coffee in his flask and left it on the side along with his keys, ready to drink after he dropped the girls off. Usually he used to need his coffee before he had breakfast, before he even got dressed to try and wake himself up. But if he did that, then he couldn't give Ella a morning kiss because he had milk in his coffee and even the transferance of milk like that would set off her allergy.

(Y/n) took the shake from him with a smile and let him take Cora from her so he could feed her at the table. Her eyes followed him fondly as he sat at the table with Cora perched on his lap, trying to take the watch off his wrist. Their youngest was like a magpie, anything shiny that she saw, she wanted.

Cora had inherited Evan's blue eyes that were so transfixed on his watch that she didn't bother to put up a fuss when he fed her like she normally did in the morning.

Her fists bashed against his wrist and her fingers got stuck under the strap on his left wrist that was around her middle. And Evan used the distraction to spoon a mouthful of scrambled eggs up and get her to eat.

Arching her back out, (Y/n) leaned her elbows on the counter in front of her and tried to drink the protein shake that tasted just like a very thick strawberry milkshake. In their house, they were used to calling them 'shakes' because when Ella heard the word milk, she panicked. To her, shakes were fruit smoothies and to Angel they meant either a smoothie or an actual milkshake.

(Y/n) couldn't sit at the table, not when she could smell the strong scent of eggs and the toast Angel had made. It made her stomach churn just thinking about it and the protein shake was already setting heavy in her stomach and making her throat tense with each gulp she took.

"Good girl," Evan praised when Cora ate most of her breakfast before she started to kick her legs out and bash her hands on his arm. Her sign that she wanted to go mooch about rather than sit here with them at the table.

Cora was only one and she could crawl and stand up if she had something to lean on, but she couldn't walk yet. Evan was desperate not to miss that moment. When Angel and Ella started to walk Evan was in odd jobs such as working at a bar during the nights, so he didn't miss their first words or steps. Now he was a firefighter, it was the only job he could ever see himself doing, but he knew it was going to mess with a few things with the family.

He didn't want to miss Cora's milestones or their next baby's milestones but he wasn't guaranteed to see them either. The only thing he was guaranteed was to be there at the birth when their next one was born.

Evan had cut the cords for all of their girls and he was determined to do it again this time around.

Standing up, Evan headed through to the living room and placed Cora down in the play cot beneath the bay window so she could scramble around with her toys and make as much noise and disruption as she pleased.

On his way back through to the kitchen, Evan grabbed a pink bobble lying unused on the side table and wrapped it around his wrist before he headed over to Angel. If he didn't do her hair now she would only grab him when they were heading out the door and demand he did her hair before they left. Evan would admit he wasn't the best at styling the girls hair, but he did alright and Angel had a thing for him platting or trying to mess with her hair.

He was sure it was somehow sensory for her, she would sit still for an hour and let him tangle his hands in her hair and mess with it and do all sorts of random styles and she didn't care. She didn't fidget like Ella did.

He stood behind Angel's chair and slowly started to drag his fingers through her hair, scraping it up so he could put it in a high ponytail. Just as he got the bobble wrapped once around her long sandy hair, his head snapped to the right and he looked across at (Y/n).

"You didn't just throw that up, did you?" Evan moved his hands down to rest on Angel's shoulders but his eyes stayed focused on his wife.

He could see the way she was hunched over the sink with one hand tightly gripping the edge of the sink and her other arm tightly bound around her middle. A sigh passed through his lips when (Y/n) didn't respond or turn around to face him; that gave him his answer.

"Alright you two, shoes on, go get ready." Evan arched his back and leaned over Angel until she tilted her head back to look up at him sweetly. He held his left hand out and curved his right hand over his left, moving his hand back and forth to sign for her to get her shoes on. They needed to get ready so he could drop them both off at school.

As soon as the pair of them left the table, Evan walked through the kitchen until he was stood behind (Y/n) with his hands on her hips and his lips smothering the back of her head. He didn't like going to work and leaving her when she felt like this. She had Cora to feed which wouldn't help her if she felt sick and then she had to go and pick up the girls this afternoon and make tea for them. And since he was on a double shift, she had to do the bath and bedtime routine for all three of them on her own.

"Are you gonna be okay if I go? I won't be back til tomorrow afternoon," Evan wouldn't finish or even leave the station until around lunchtime tomorrow and then he said he would pop and see Maddie and check how she was settling into her new apartment before he came home. He didn't want to go to work wondering if (Y/n) was going to be alright on her own.

"I'll be alright, I'll feel better by the time I have to get the girls from school, I promise." (Y/n) rubbed at her eyes before she turned around in Evan's arms and reached her hands up to caress his neck and jaw.

"If you don't feel well you have to ring me, I can always ask Maddie to pop round,"

Having his sister close by had never felt like such a blessing. Evan knew it had been hard on Maddie when she was with Doug, living so far away from him and the girls. She had been there when he got married and when she argued with Doug once and tried to leave, she had stayed with (Y/n) and Evan and had been around for Angel's birth. Then when Ella and Cora were born she travelled down to stay a week with them, but she always missed them when she couldn't come down to visit.

And Evan knew he didn't make things easier for her when he wouldn't let Doug come down.

He told Maddie she was always welcome in his home and he wanted her around more, but he refused point blank to entertain Doug. He wouldn't have that man around his daughters. But now she had left him and was staying in LA and so nearby, Evan felt complete. He had all his girls, his sister included, right by him where he wanted and needed them.

If he rang his sister and asked if she would stop by and check in on (Y/n), she never minded.

"I'll be fine, baby."

"You'd better be," He pressed his finger beneath her chin to tilt her head up towards him while a soft smile spread across his face. "I love you both, and I'll see you tomorrow,"

***

Holding the door open, Evan leaned back and let Maddie walk in front of him into the house before he followed swiftly after her and shut the door. He had helped put a few new pictures up on the walls at her place but he couldn't refuse his big sister when she asked to come back with him and see the girls.

"Angel's in there," Evan pointed towards the living room while he kicked off his boots and Maddie hung up her coat on the rack. Her head ticked to the side and she looked at him quizically.

"How do you know that?" He had only just walked in the door along with her, how could he possibly know which girl was sitting in the living room?

"I saw the tv when I pulled in the drive, subtitles are on." He had caught a glimpse of the tv through the bay window when they got here and he could see Cinderella on tv with subtitles at the bottom. That and the fact that he could barely hear the tv in the hallway meant it was Angel in the living room. If it was Ella, she would have been blasting out the lyrics and (Y/n) always turned the tv up loud. Angel was the only one who had the subtitles on.

Evan followed Maddie into the front room and a fond smile overtook his features as he watched her go up to the sofa and lean over the back. She stood on her tiptoes to curve over the back of the sofa and wrap her arms around Angel who squealed loudly before babbling 'Auntie Maddie' a few times.

She was only ever comfortable talking around close family such as her parents or Maddie. The school were having a difficult time getting her to speak in class, even though she was in a select class specifically for hearing impaired children.

But Evan loved it when she spoke, even though just like him and (Y/n), she would use sign language at the same time out of habit. Her voice may be a little quiet or high at times and her words were slurred and drawled, but he loved her voice all the same.

Angel sat up on her knees and turned around to properly hug Maddie and her eyes shone and she waved when she saw Evan walking into the room.

"Hi baby," He walked over and kissed the top of her head, brushing his thumb across her cheek while Maddie moved towards the cot beneath the window, grinning and cooing at Cora who was starting to wake up. "How was school?" He wrapped one arm around her waist when Angel clung to his neck and he lifted her effortlessly up over the sofa so he could give her a bear hug.

"Good, we can go swimming tomorrow,"

"That's cool, we all need to go swimming, get Cora learning," Evan pressed another kiss to the top of her head. He remembered seeing the letter stuck on the fridge last week saying that Angel's class were going to do weekly swim sessions. He had signed the form but the letter was still on the fridge so none of them forgot she had to pack her costume into her school bag.

Evan leaned down and set Angel back on her feet but his head snapped towards the kitchen when he heard Ella's unmistakeable high-pitched scream followed by a very worrying cry.

He locked eyes with Maddie who paused her little dance with Cora as Evan gently nudged Angel towards her aunt before he took off towards the kitchen. He had heard something clatter, most likely Ella had dropped something and scared herself or thought she was going to get into trouble.

"Sweetheart you're fine- just come here-" (Y/n) dragged her hand through her hair before she tried to reach out for Ella but she screamed again sending a shudder through (Y/n)'s system.

Her eyes widened when she looked over and saw Evan stood in the doorway to the kitchen, trying to see what was going on.

(Y/n) had only been making up a bottle of milk for Cora because she knew the toddler would be waking up from her nap right around now. She didn't hear or see Ella toddle up behind her and when she turned around, she tripped over Ella. The bottle in her hand went flying and when it collided with the floor, milk sprayed out, splattering up the fridge, puddling across the floor and lathering Ella's legs.

Another horrid scream left Ella's lips which made (Y/n)'s head rattle and she closed her eyes, fighting off the headache as she slowly went down on her knees to grab the bottle and try to nudge Ella away from the mess. The five year old had just frozen in panic.

"Baby girl, come here." Evan moved over and grabbed Ella under the arms and lifted her up to move her away from the puddle on the floor.

He carefully stood her up on the table so she was level with him but when a burning cry left her lips, Evan cupped her face in his hands and leaned close until their temples were touching. The contact made her take a deep breath and the trace of a smile on his otherwise concerned yet stern face caught her full attention.

"Ella, if you can scream, then you're not going to go into shock. Look at me, you're fine, it didn't touch your skin, you didn't swallow any milk."

Evan kissed her nose before he reached over and grabbed the tea towel and started to swipe the remnants from her tiny leggings and make sure it didn't go anywhere else or actually touch her skin, just to be safe. She was using all her breath to scream, that was enough of a sign for her parents that she wasn't about to go into anaphylactic shock or it would have happened immediately.

A small whimper left her lips until Evan picked her back up and settled her on his hip, letting her burrow into his neck and curl her arms up against his chest like she was trying to disappear. He did his best to dodge round the puddle on the floor so he could reach (Y/n). He crouched down beside her and hooked his free arm under (Y/n)'s and lifted her up with him.

"Go sit down, I'll get Ella changed and clean this up. Maddie's here, she's snatched Cora so she won't need a bottle yet." He had to change Ella, just to be on the safe side, she would just scratch her legs and panic if not. But he would deal with the slight puddle of milk if (Y/n) went to sit down for five minutes with the girls.

Maddie had stolen Cora who would be happy and entertained for the time being. It was what she always did, came in, attached to the girls and entertained them and played with them. (Y/n) didn't have to do everything on her own, Evan was home now.

"Thank you," (Y/n) brought her hands up to rest on his chest before she pushed up to kiss him. She could feel his hand winding down from her waist to caress her bum when she sank her teeth down into his lower lip.

But a gasp left Evan's lips and his eyes shot open when Ella whined a grumpy 'daddy' before she grabbed his face and turned his head back towards her in a huff of jealously. He could taste the specks of blood on his lower lip from being roughly pulled away from (Y/n) and he darted his tongue out over his lip while his brows rose in shock.

"That wasn't very nice. You're needy, you know that?" He pouted down at his middle daughter but the only response he got was Ella patting his cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss.

"I wonder who she gets it from,"

[silverlining-ships]

Music comms are CLOSED!! Check out the waitlist here!!

Ok y'know what, screw it. My brain seems to require three-four pieces at one time (genuinely cannot figure out why that is), and with the fact I only have two queued up right now and the game I'm composing for doesn't need any tracks at the moment, I'm getting composer's block again. So we're OPENING my music requests!!

I'm actually stunned at how many people seemed interested in getting a piece of soundtrack music for their f/o. I'm opening it to non-mutuals, and it's totally free! If you're concerned about paying/tipping for work, I'm always happy to receive content for my selfship, but I will not accept any money, and there's no pressure to tip content anyway. Again, this is for fun!

This is how it works:

Fill out this google form with the title of your ship, some songs you like, instruments, etc etc.

You can message on Tumblr or Discord (@/slipperson on Discord) on top of submitting the form too! I'll reach out myself once I get started on your piece.

I'll sketch out a draft, which is exactly like sketching out a basic pose for art - it'll typically only use piano/minor percussion. Sometimes I'll even give a simple concept before I flesh out a draft. I'll send it to you for approval.

If changes are needed, I'll refine the draft and re-update. If not, I'll go on to fleshing out the instrumental - this means adding instruments, changing volume (for example, in my first example, I used a lot of "dynamics"/volume changes to simulate the swelling of instruments). This is like adding the flat colors in a piece of art!

I'll send it to you again - I'll make changes upon your request, but if approved, I'll finally go ahead and mix the final draft. This means putting it through an audio program (audacity if you're curious!) and polishing the sound. This is like rendering the lighting!

After it's done, I'll send it to you for once last listen. Upon approval, I'll post it to Soundcloud, link it on Tumblr, and tag you in the post!

Important bits:

No comship/proship/aged up-or-down/RPF ships. Live action characters are fine as long as it's not the actual person. Familial/platonic ships are totally okay!

If you are a minor/ageless blog, I'm willing to write a piece for familial/platonic content, but not QPR/romantic.

Downtime is 1-2 months after I first open your request. I may finish it sooner, but no later than 2 months. This is because music generally takes awhile--30 seconds of music can take me 4-5 hours to concept! I also tend to work on 3-4 pieces of music at a time.

I will give frequent updates. Don't be afraid to reach out if you're curious on the status!

My work is never cleared to be used commercially or in AI programs. We're a bunch of selfshippers on Tumblr, so I know we all hate AI, but it's worth the mention. I tend to be strict on copywrite - it'll stay under my name, all rights reserved - however, you are free to use your piece wherever you'd like as long as it's not commercial use, used in a monetized campaign/video/form of media, and not used in AI.

I may put these tracks on a streaming service at a later date - not on Spotify, as the service is TERRIBLE with allowing their work to be remixed into AI. Something like Bandcamp or Soundcloud for Artists. If you are uncomfortable with this, please let me know.

Examples:

I will have my queue/completed list on my carrd here.

Thank you so much for your interest!! I'm actually so stunned I got so much love for this, and I'm excited to celebrate your ships with you!

heart border

[caramelloss]

Hihi ada! I really love ur blog and I'm keeping up with all of ur polls for the new fanfic! Any ideas for the title yet?

hi!! i love u so much thank you!!! why don't i just be super nice and tell you the names of the chapters as well; they're more creative then the title! just to note, once my last poll hit 350 votes, i chose the option with the highest percent. i know the poll lasts for 24hrs, but in order to produce a chapter by tomorrow i had to be quick with the decision. alsoooo since you guys truly blew up the polls, and the tag list blog, here's some little sneak peaks to what chapters feature some characters..! TO PREFACE!: no characters will die until each character has had a chance to form a bond with reader. also i must admit this fic may end up being around 12 chapters, so please, if your fav character isn't here yet, they will be. also, there will be small romantic moments shared between reader and other characters no matter what character the chapter focuses on. i will unfortunately have to stop after chapter 5 though, because too much would be spoiled about the fic.. but, i love you!!

"the book of the last blood witch"

chapter one; 'the emperor has no clothes' – this chapter focuses on reader's backstory. how she lost her coven, and how she survived without them. reader, in a moment of grief, will not drink the blood she needs to live on. death (rio vidal) will save her, for a price. because of this deal, many years down the line, rio calls in her chit.. this is how reader will end up on the witches road.

chapter two; 'first impressions never last' – reader will meet the coven, which will consist of lilia calderu, alice wu gulliver, rio vidal, agatha harkness, jennifer kale, and billy kaplan. sharon will have died at this point, so the first trial will be complete, and wanda will not appear yet. reader will attempt to keep her identity as a blood witch hidden; but it will ultimately be revealed by agatha in spite. as the coven turns against reader, one witch in particular sides with her. the coven begins their journey further down the road, and suspicions rise among the witches as to what you're really doing on the road.

chapter three; 'dreaming of silver curls' - in this chapter, we have a time skip between the campfire and the middle of the night. reader finds herself unable to sleep, and wanders around outside of her tent (they have tents). lilia has a vision of a kiss between herself and reader. it causes her to stir awake. reader, unaware, stares off at the moon and thinks of her coven. lilia, unable to sleep again, joins reader. reader confesses to lilia that she doesn't want to be there, and that she shouldn't even be alive. the two witches bond, and share an intimate, yet comforting moment. the chapter progresses as the coven reaches the next trial, which is alice's trial. after lilia is burned by the curse, reader is sentimental and protective towards her. lilia finds it endearing, but she doesn't say so, too aware of the coven's feelings about reader. reader takes this personally, avoiding the older witch. when everyone is asleep, and you can't seem to find peace of mind, much like before, lilia joins you, knowing you'd be there. the chapter ends with lilia and rio defending you once agatha tries to convince the witches to kill you or leave you behind.

chapter four; 'you were better off in the dark' - this chapter will be shorter. it will be an intermittent one where reader talks about her experiences as a blood witch, telling the coven who she is, what happened to her sisters, and why rio brought her on the road. this sparks an emotional response from rio; something that will build later in the story. your relationship with the coven changes, and your bond with lilia becomes stronger. another witch on the road takes a liking to you, and you find that you and her have a lot in common.

chapter five; 'nimble fingers and quick wit'- the following morning, the salem seven attacks. in your attempt to flee, you and this witch exchange brooms. the coven is pulled down to the road when flying, but alice, (the witch you trade brooms with) is caught by two of the salem seven witches. the rest of the coven doesn't notice as they run from the threat, but you do. agatha yells for you to come into the trial, but you choose to save alice. agatha closes the doors, and you use your blood manipulation to deal with the two members of the salem seven. you save alice, and she learns a new fault of your power. she saves you by giving up a part of herself. you two make your journey through the woods to find the end of the trial, where you both talk, touch, and even confess. as the witches exit the road, and you're caught with alice, rio gets angry. it causes a lot of issue to the coven, because of what she does.

[softlymaximoff]

Sick Sleepy Bear ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

18+ ONLY MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

— A/N: malen'kiy detenysh “little cub”, and then your usual Russian pet names we all know-

— Summary: prompt 1 -> “hey l'm not your pillow" prompt 2 -> “you’re adorable like this”

— Characters: WandaNat, Fem!reader

— Warnings: anxiety, fluff, little bit of obsessing over Wanda’s boobs, !BRIEF NIPPLE STIMULATION!, body admiration/ worship kinda idk,

— Word Count: 860

There weren’t many times where you were delusionally sleepy, for the record, the only time you were extremely clingy and completely out of it would have been when you fell ill the other month and your body decided to shut down. Of course it happens again when your girlfriends are currently away on a mission.

Tossing and turning in the mass amount of blankets sprawled on the bed, you sigh for the last time before groaning and sitting up. It was only an overnight mission but your tummy was starting to twist and your eyes were going red at the constant rubbing around them. A quiet whimper left your lips as you grabbed your phone and squinted at the harsh light. 3:04am, what a joke.

You hesitated before pressing on the contact name but another rattling cough had you calling in a frenzy. You absolutely hated being sick. It was hell for anyone involved, you despised taking any medicine, you were snappy and you were generally over everyone who tried to interact with you.

A few rings of the dial tone and it connected to the other side “Malysh? It’s three am honey go to sleep” Natasha mumbled out tiredly yet concerned as to why you’re up at the hour. “Come home please” You sniffled out and you heard a shuffle on her end. “Baby- we can’t- drogoya we’re stakehousing, we can’t get to you sweetheart. We’ll be back later today alright moya lyubov” Wanda’s sleepy voice gravelled out through the phone and it made you miss her more.

“Need yous” you whined when another cough coursed through you and you heard a curse through the line. “Oh love, I promise if you close those sleepy eyes we’ll be back before you know it okay malen'kiy detenysh” Wanda sighed sleepily and you tried to shut your eyes once more, but to no avail. “Wanda please. Need you” you whimpered and tried to get comfy again.

Not a moment later and the duo were harmonising a soft lullaby in their common tongue, Wanda slipping a few Sokovian words and Nat keeping the basis Russian. Before you knew it, you were finally catching up on the missed hours of sleep with their voices as the last thing on your mind.

<><><>

The house was silent when the two Avengers finally made it home. The TV was paused on Netflix’s telltale of a binge session asking if you were still watching your current obsessed series and the overthrow blankets were in a pile on the floor. You however, we’re nowhere in sight.

Nat dropped the overnight bags by the door and took Wanda by the wrists, dragging the exhausted witch to your shared bedroom. The minute they opened the door, they caught you in a deep chesty cough, your steady body jolting with each one. “Oh baby love” Wanda pouted sleepily and undressed herself to get into comfy clothes.

A cheeky - yet admirable - glance from Nat had Wanda blushing and sidestepping from the gaze lightly. “Shut up you, go get changed and let’s snuggle please” her voice was light and playful but deep down the three of you knew she was always bashful about her body.

One of the many benefits of Nat having the most control in the relationship was forcing Wanda to feel good about her body before she could literally feel good. As soon as Wanda slipped under the covers, you curled into her sighing in relief at her presence. Nat scooted in behind you and you instinctively reached back, slowly waking up from your slumber.

“Hi” You mumbled into the quiet of the afternoon and practically into Wanda’s boobs, giggling when you nuzzled your face into them and kissed over her heart gently. Another cough rattled your bones and you whimpered when the attack was over, pulling nat closer so she was spooning you from behind.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this. All clingy and melty” Natasha let out a small chuckle but nestled her head in the crook of your neck. A low whine left your lips when she places butterfly kisses along your neck and whispered a small ‘i love you’ in Russian. “Our sick lil angel” Wanda pouted when you pressed your face further into her boobs.

“Hey, I’m not your pillow you goof” she rolled her eyes at the movement but a quick suck from you shut her up really quick. One look from Natasha and Wanda blushed, she was always so bashful when she was exposed with underlying tones. Natasha was never the one to judge but always the one to use it to her advantage.

Hopefully you get better soon because with the rate that your clinginess is going, Wanda was sure to be overstimulated and Natasha just can’t focus when her girls just so beautiful together.

In the meantime, Wanda will just have to keep her composure just enough for you to fall back asleep. At least until the opportunity for a shower arises anyway, cause if you think Natasha is letting Wanda off with nothing but a glance of admiration for the night then you’re thinking wrong.

[buckys-little-belle]

Oh! What about hcs for Bucky and little! Reader during the fall? I get cold super easy but I love the colder months!

Fall Fun

Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Talks of pumpkin carving, talks of Bucky being the Winter Soldier (Very very vague), Talks of (Bucky's) memory loss, Fall Fluff

Notes - I love fall! It's my favourite season and I had genuinely so much fun writing this!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

Bucky loves the fall, it's his favorite season. He's not too hot, or too cold, and he finds he enjoys seeing how beautiful change can be. But most of all he loves all the activities the two of you can do together.

Most activities are ones done outside, and he is aware that you react to the cold different than him. Sure this is his perfect weather type, but you don't have the same super soldier blood he does.

So he keeps an extra jacket and sweater in his truck for you in case you're in need of an extra layer. He's also got a flannel blanket at the ready for long drives, and when buying the truck he made sure to buy one with heated seats. He never uses them, but with how often you turn yours on, he knows it was a worthy purchase.

He loves the pumpkin patch to an annoying extent. He could truly spend days there, especially with you by his side.

He has a whole seasons pass that allows unlimited corn maze trips, as many hay rides as he wants, and a total of 10 professional photos at those cute little stands where you stick your head through and end up being a pumpkin person. Trust, he has every photo framed around the house.

He also loves picking pumpkins with you, you'll give them all names and he'll do his best to remember which one was named Frank and which one was named Jeff. And he can't say no to you, he really can't, so the front porch of his house is home to 20 pumpkins by the end of fall.

He only lets you carve three, because he know you'll get bored if he tried to get you to do more. You tell him what you want them to look like and he'll do his best to sketch and carve the pumpkin the way you like.

You'd never tell him but he's actually not very good at art things like pumpkin carving, and you think you could do a better job, but he won't let you touch the sharp carving tools so your kitty cat pumpkin is lopsided, the flower looks more like an explosion, and the classic pumpkin face carving has two very different shaped eyes.

Bucky has a Pinterest account, he does, and he always is looking for new things to do to entertain you and him. Which is how you end up in the middle of a forest collecting all types of different leaves, putting them in a small book to press and dry.

You love all the colours, and Bucky takes a bunch of photos of you playing in the leaf piles, or just photos of you walking through the pretty forest, and his favorite photo is the one of you holding two leaves up proudly with a big smile on your face. (They were the biggest leaves the two of you found that day.)

Bucky always makes you wear mittens even if you don't think you need them. You argue that they're winter accessories but Bucky won't have it. He buys you mittens with pumpkins on them, or little leaves, so they look cute. He secretly has a deal with the grandma two doors down, she knits him your mittens and he buys her copious amounts of yarn.

Also fall baking? Bucky isn't a baker, but he does his best when you suggest you two make cupcakes that look like pumpkins. They actually turn out well, but the kitchen ends up a mess! And Bucky vows to never bake again ... Which was a short lived vow because two days later you two are back at it again making chocolate chip cookies with orange coloured chocolate chips.

All in all fall goes well every year. And it's the only season Bucky actively records. You don't know this for a few years but he actually scrapbooks every fall. The books are in his office and he pulls them out when he needs to remember something good.

Pictures of you in the forest line a bunch of pages, some selfies of the two of you are tucked in there, and every picture taken at the pumpkin patch has a spot. Leaves that you two pressed are glued to the pages with care, and he makes sure to photograph what your carved pumpkins look like each year.

He finds he likes making scrapbooks. Once in his life he forgot everything important to him. And sometimes he wonders what he still doesn't remember because there's nothing to remind him. So he keeps these tucked away in case he ever forgets, he keeps them so no matter what happens he'll always have proof that he loved you, that you loved him, and that beauty can exist during change.

[soundlessdreamss]

PLEASE PLEASE ALASTOR X scaramouche FEM READER PLEASE ROMANTIC

Hihihihi! Welcome to my blog and of course I can write this. I am familiar with his character so I’ll do the best of my abilities to make sure it fits him! Also request are open!

ALASTOR X FEM SCARAMOUCHE!READER

( Ignore the cat, I had no idea what else to put lol :3 )

you were wandering around without any real intentions. You already lost the three most important people you trust, no you didn’t lose them. They betrayed you after you gave them YOUR trust.

as you were in your own mind thinking about all that’s happened a poster flies into your face and you decide to take it off and see what it even is. The poster read “want to be redeemed for a chance to live in heaven! Well come and visit the hasbin hotel!!” It had a photo of the hotel and a smiley face on it. You were bored out of your mind especially with all these dumb sinners, you decided why not go there then? It’s not like anyone remembered who you were before anyways.

after you flew to the hotel with your elemental skill…

It didn’t take you too long to get to the hotel, it was quite easy to see as it was big and bright. And also out in the open. You prepared yourself as you went to knock on the door but paused. What if they broke your trust like how your old friends broke it? What if you make a bad impression? What if you manage to screw everything up once you actually become friends with them?

you couldn’t let that stop you though, you made sure no one old remembers you after you completely changed your identity for the better. Sometimes it’s best to let go of the past. You knocked on the door and waited for someone.

as you waited suddenly the door burst open and a blonde haired girl appeared with a greyish/white haired girl behind her. The blonde one quickly introduced herself as Charlie and the one behind her introduced herself as Vaggie. Charlie seemed overjoyed that someone actually came to the hotel.

once you entered you noticed there was also a spider looking person, a literal human sized snake, a cat, and a small maid the size of a child. But one of the people you saw there caught your eye, he was wearing a red suit and his hair kinda looked like it had ears. You found out from Charlie that his name was Alastor.

He walked over to you and inspected your look. He found you quite intriguing compared to the other females he met in his life, and his hell life. Like the gentleman he is he grabbed your hand and gave a small kiss to it. He politely introduced himself even though Charlie already did but you didn’t mind. You decided to also introduce yourself to him.

as you were walking to your hotel room, Alastor decided to accompany you on the way there even though it wasn’t a long walk. He just wanted to help you get settled in. You guys both realized you had way more in common than you thought, not being able to trust people enough, mother issues, (😭) and also loving to give people a taste of their own medicine.

as you got to your room he offered to get you some food or tea if you’d like. You decided that tea wouldn’t be that bad as it was quite nice to drink tea during the afternoon. He made both of you guys a tea and walked you to the balcony where he opened the door for you to enter first, pulled the chair out for you, and poured you some tea. It was really kind of him even though you barley knew eachother yet.

the afternoon went by so fast as the two of you chatted about your own interests and what you liked. Before you knew it, the night had already settled in and you got a bit sleepy. You both decided that it would be time to rest and you both said your goodbyes. Maybe it would be just fine at this hotel with him around.

two months later…

you and alastor became inseparable after two months together. Like two peas in a pod, you guys were so alike and did so much fun things together! There was a secret you were hiding from him though, the fact that you were starting to grow a crush on him. (Not to worry as he was also growing a crush and attachment to you.)

it got so obvious to the other staff members of the hotel that you guys liked eachother that they started making bets on who would confess first. But they also realized how you were mainly comfortable around Alastor and trusted him the most. Which was rare for you because you didn’t wanna trust anyone anymore but he made it so hard not to trust him.

Alastor decided to be the one to make the first move because if he didn’t then you guys would’ve just stayed quiet about your feelings. You were afraid of him rejecting you and then being left alone. Again.

he offered to take you out to dinner tonight and you happily accepted. You decided to wear a dark blue dress with a sliver necklace. It felt really pretty on you. Alastor decided to just teleport you to the restaurant he made a reservation at and you guys both made your way to the table.

he of course, pulled the chair out for you to sit on before he even sat down. “sooo, what would you like to order dear?” The sudden pet name caught you off guard but he kinda spoke like that to every female so you kept your cool. “I think I’ll just have [whatever your favorite food is reader!].”

Alastor nodded and he placed your orders. In the mean time you both chatted and he started becoming a bit more touchy than usual, like if you put your arm on the table he would slowly brush his hand against it. You know the usual trying to hit on a girl movements.

after a couple minutes both of you're food came and you decided to eat. It was silent as you guys were both eating but after you were done you guys decided to stay there for a bit before leaving. Alastor grabbed your hand as you guys left and pulled you close.

“listen I know this place that I think you’ll love, just close your eyes and trust me alright? He spoke out, this got you all curious now but you just nodded as he covered your eyes and led you there.

after a couple minutes of walking he then took his hands off your eyes and you didn’t realize how close he was. But also the scenery of where he took you was beautiful for hell, it felt like it has romantic vibes in the air. He then took both of your hands and looked you deep in your eyes.

“I have been dying to tell you something dear. Please let me speak for just a couple of minutes because I simply cannot wait anymore.”

you felt your heart racing and you nodded as you waited for him to speak.

“I never thought I could find love in any way shape or form, but when you appeared you suddenly made me feel something. Like a spark was ignited in my heart. I don’t know why you make me feel this way but it’s an amazing feeling. Please dear, tell me if you feel the same.”

was he implying that he loved you? Yeah he was, he just didn’t know how to explain it because this was the first time he genuinely felt it in his heart. It took you a couple of seconds to process what he said and your face turned red from you blushing. (Very logical for your face to turn red when you blush, yes.)

you wanted to give him a kiss right then and there but you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time and you wanted to make it special.

“Alastor I feel the same way. I felt as if everyone left me and broke my trust so many times, but you never did. I know we only met a while ago but you set a spark in my heart that I didn’t know I still had.”

you and him were overjoyed that you both felt the same way about eachother. He then moved his hands so they cupped your face and brought you into a kiss. It didn’t last long but it felt good. Suddenly you heard rustling in the bushes behind you guys. And you saw six heads pop out. Charlie, Vaggie, Angel dust, Husk, Sir pentious, and Nifty.

“I TOLD YOU ALASTOR WOULD BE THE ONE TO MAKE THE FIRST MOVE!” Angel dust shouted and then the other five took out money and handed it over to him. They were seriously spying and betting on you two. It made you feel heavily embarrassed though. But in the end you got what you wanted so you ignored the embarrassment and just focused on the spark your heart felt right now.

Note: hiiiii again! Thanks for reading all of this if you made it this far. I tried my best with the Scaramouche reader but it was lowkey hard. I hope you enjoyed though!

[forcemasculinisation]

I am really starting to question my gender.... Should i act on it? How should i start? I think i want to feel like a real man...

Those are good questions, anon. I can answer the second one first.

How to Start Force Masculinising Yourself (or how others can help you become a man)

There are two main areas you should work on if you want to "feel like a real man". Those are physical changes and mental changes. I'll give you three you can start with, avoiding the obvious option of medical transition (because, quite frankly, it's expensive and difficult to obtain).

Some examples of small physical changes you can start with:

Wearing more masculine clothes: this can include straight-legged low-waisted pants, darker clothes to hide your shape, muscle tees to accentuate your biceps, and other typically masculine attire. You can even start to wear gym clothes your regular clothes for convenience.

Cutting/changing your hair: this can be a very big change. You don't need to do this at all, as there are many masculine individuals with long hair. But cutting your hair is a sure-fire way to make yourself feel more masculine. It's a very instant feeling. Make sure you know exactly what hairstyle you want, and show image references to your barber. (For my black brothers, locing your hair can be good a step closer to masculinity.)

Altering your posture and mannerisms: the way you walk and talk is very important. Keeping your feet further apart when you stand and sit, putting your hands in your pockets, walking slower but with slightly larger strides: these are all things I do that help me personally feel masculine. Make eye contact (if you can) and keep your head up. Laugh loudly. Don't be afraid to fuck up, and don't cower in embarrassment.

Now, some mental changes:

Affirmations: Feels fucking stupid, I know. But following blogs like mine is already a type of affirmation. At this stage, if you've read this far, you know you are a man. So affirming the fact daily is just repeating something you're already aware of. If you don't believe it, then saying it so many times makes it even more true.

Pronoun correction and name changes: If you can, shorten your name, or alter it so it can be seen as masculine. It's never too late to chose a nickname, don't think of what others would think by this abrupt change. Sooner or later, you'll have the same people who were judging you start referring to you as a boy because of your carnal boyish nature. Using he/him pronouns, ironically at first. You'll grow to adore it, right?

Packing: I would have put this in the physical section, but it's something only you would be able to know and feel. Having a cock between your legs... Even stuffing folded socks in your boxers to just feel a bulge of some sorts. People don't understand how much power that makes you feel. You can even just close your eyes and imagine your phantom cock. If it doesn't make you feel stupid, you can imagine holding it, stroking it until you swear it's real.

These are just some. As for your first question about whether you should act on it... Does the above sound exciting to you? If yes, then you should. If not, you should consume forcemasc content for just a few more hours...