#and I can’t help but think about the times she would tell me she had completely detached and didn’t love him anymore

[raven-dor]

i'll be watching you

in which steve harrington can’t stop thinking about the one girl who believed in him

PAIRING: steve harrington x fem!reader, dustin henderson x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, young love, realization, ANGST ANGST ANGST, nostalgia, CRAZY amounts of yearning, obliviousness

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

AN: this hurt to write... enjoy!! (also the 'present' is the mid 90's, so Steve and you are in your late 20's)

Steve was utterly confused. First, he decides, of his own volition, to apologize to Jonathan Wheeler. Then, he knocks on the boy’s door to find Y/N, panic evident in her expression and her hand bleeding. 

He bursts in, worried about her safety, to then find that his girlfriend is also there, with a gun pointed at his face.

He was then dragged through the Wheeler’s house away from some sort of creature before finally being ushered out by Y/N, her words haunting him as he opened the car door. “I don’t want you wrapped up in this, Steve. Just leave it alone.” 

Why would she care? And why could she be involved, but not him? No, Steve thought to himself as he grabbed his bat, she could not go through this alone. (He would later reference this moment as the second his feelings for her grew past friendship.) Screams rang through the Byers property, and Steve burst through the door once more, swinging his bat and slamming the monster square in the face. 

Y/N was on the floor, grinning wildly at the boy before her. “Steve!” He ran over, extending his hand and pulling her into his arms. “What are you-” 

“Don’t tell me to leave it alone ever again.” He whispered.

She nodded, hugging him tightly. “Fine.” 

A cough interrupted their moment, and they pulled apart, remembering where they were. Y/N laughed, nudging the King of Hawkins lightly. “You’re quite the hero.” 

A chill ran down his spine, and he clenched his eyes shut. She made him crazy sometimes.

Steve groaned, shoving his face further into his pillow. Not again, he thought. This had been the third time this week he’d woke up this early. Every time it was the same, it was almost like he was going back in time, his dreams exactly as they had been in real life. 

And every time it revolved around her. 

He rolled over, staring at the ceiling. Why couldn’t he have a dream about puppies or his dream job?

His alarm clock rang, and his heart dropped. “Shit!” Jumping out of bed, he sprinted to the bathroom, fixing his hair as best he could in two minutes.

His real shift at his very real job started in ten minutes.

“Y/N!” 

God, she forgot how dismal this gym could be. All the horrible memories of middle school gym class came rushing back. Over by the locker room is where Tracy C. tripped her ‘on accident.’ The bleachers were where she’d sit when she wasn’t picked for dodgeball. 

And by the exit door was where she would secretly cheer for Steve as he played basketball. 

She was sure some of these kids, at least the ones she knew, had had the same happen to them. The doors to the gym opened for the hundredth time, Dustin Henderson walking through with what Y/N could only identify as a Steve Harrington special. 

She waved at the boy, smiling brightly as he walked across the gym to meet her.

She hoped he hadn’t seen her space out.

“Are you okay?” 

So he had. Y/N smiled, nodding. “Of course I am, now that you’re here.” He blushed. “You look very handsome, Dustin.” 

“Thank you.” He grinned. “Steve helped me.” 

“Really?” She smiled, laughing to herself. “That’s really nice of him.” 

“We’re friends now!” Dustin was still grinning. “He drove me here.” 

Her eyes darted toward the entrance, and the young boy’s face fell ever so slightly. “He said he doesn’t want to come in because…” He motioned for Y/N to lean down, whispering in her ear. “Because of Nancy.” 

Of course, how could she forget about Nancy? She loved her friend, but her heart ached to think about Steve’s undying love for her. “Ah.” She locked her lips, figuratively throwing away the key. “Your secret is safe with-” 

“Henderson.” 

She looked up, locking eyes with Steve’s instantly. He was beautiful in that color, she realized. It brought out the gold in his eyes.

“Wow.” Steve smiled shyly, rubbing a hand on his neck. “You-” 

“Are you kidding me?” He murmured as his eyes peeled open. 

This had to stop. 

He already deeply regretted his life choices, and now he couldn’t even escape them in sleep. He drove to work grumpily, parked his car grumpily, and stood at the Family Video counter grumpily. Robin laughed, shaking her head. 

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” 

He glared, sticking his tongue out. “Good morning to you too, Robin.” 

“You’ve been pissy lately,” Robin said it like it was a fact like everyone in Hawkins had been talking about it. “What’s up, Harrington?” 

“I-” He couldn’t tell Robin, she would never let him live this down. No, this was the type of thing you kept to yourself, driving yourself crazy until- “Just had a rough night.” 

“Okay.” Her shoulders deflated, grabbing the cart full of VHS tapes. “Let me know when you want to tell the truth.” 

“Shit, shit shit.” Y/N’s eyes were glassy as she clung to Steve’s side, supporting him as he walked. “Why’d you have to be the hero?” 

“That’s part of my-” He winced, laughing as her face grew even more worried. “Part of my charm, babe.” 

Y/N ignored the way her cheeks flushed, leaning him against the giant boulder. “Just be quiet.”

He nodded, leaning his head back in pain. “No problem.” 

“Really?” She scoffed, muttering thanks as Robin handed her cloth to wrap around his (chiseled) abdomen. “You scared me, you know.” 

Her voice was soft, much softer than normal. It sounded weak; scared even. He frowned, reaching out and brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Didn’t mean to.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you did, Harrington.”

“Can you just-” He sighed. “Can you look at me? You haven’t met my eyes since you’ve gotten down here.” 

She shook her head, trying her best to wipe away the dirt from his gaping wound. “I really hope this doesn’t get infected.” 

“Y/N, come on.” He smiled, forcing himself not to cry out in pain. “Look at me.” 

“I think Eddie’s-” Robin received a hard glare from Steve, and she nodded, walking away without another word. 

Her face felt hot, eyes watery as she looked up at him. He grinned, whispering so that only they could hear. “There she is.”

“Here I am.” She whispered back, tears falling down her cheeks freely. “Now can I-” 

“I’m so mad at you right now.” 

Her head cocked to the side. “What?” She must have misheard him. 

“You heard me.” His tone was tense, but his eyes told a different story. “I said to stay in the boat, didn’t I? Don’t follow after me.” He scoffed, flailing his arms, pain ringing through his aching muscles. “And what did you do? You followed me.” 

“As opposed to what? Watching helplessly as you were dragged into hell?” She stood up, glaring. “Would you rather have died down here?” More tears fell as she stared, hissing at him so the others couldn’t hear. “You don’t have to do everything alone!” 

“I know that-” 

“Then why can’t I follow after you? Huh?” She glared. “You’re not the boss of-” 

“I didn’t want you wrapped up in this!” He yelled, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin jumping at the sound. “You should’ve left it alone.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, last I checked, I was involved first.” She yelled back. “Now shut up so I can fix you.” She knelt again, tying the cloth Robin gave her earlier gently around him. An uncomfortable silence fell over them before she spoke once more. “Just be careful, alright? I can’t do this without you.” 

“Y/N…” His eyes were watering, from the pain or what she said, he couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry.” 

“Good.” She wiped the dirt from her hands. “I’m sorry too, I guess.” She stood up, muttering. “Even though I have no reason to apologize.” 

He laughed, reaching out for her hold. “Could I-” 

“Yes! Yeah, of course.” His arm expertly laid around her shoulders, and in another life, they could have walked through Hawkins High like this. “Please stop acting like the hero. I can’t bear it.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her eyes full of desperation, and his heart skipped. Shit. “Yeah.” 

He nodded, kissing her temple gently. “Whatever you want, babe.” 

“Hey!” Eddie’s voice interrupted whatever was happening between them. “Why don’t you take a break? I can take care of Harrington for a bit.” 

“Are you sure?” Y/N frowned, not even bothering to look at her best friend, still staring up at Steve with that dangerous look in her eyes. “I really don’t mind.” 

“Y/N.” Steve whispered. “You’ve done enough for me to last a lifetime. I’ll be okay.” 

She looked hurt, but let go of Steve regardless. “Alright, he’s all yours, Munson.” 

Eddie waited until she was by Robin and Nancy to speak. “She was the first one to dive in after you.”

Steve smiled. “Really?”

Eddie nodded. “You know she likes you, right?” 

“I know.” He laughed as he watched her jump on Robin’s back. “I like her too.” 

“Good, good.” Eddie placed a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Just, don’t hurt her, okay? She seems strong, but…” 

“I won’t.” Steve was so confident in it, so sure. “I would never do anything to hurt her.” 

His latest dream had thrown him for a loop. Eddie, a man he was never close with in school, died hours after that. God, he thought as he ran through the streets of his neighborhood, that had been the last time he’d talked to the metalhead. 

His shower was cold, and not because he forgot to pay the water bill. He’d made it cold on purpose, maybe this was how he would stop having these dreams. 

Lately, they felt closer to nightmares. This one, in particular, had reminded him of how close they'd been, of how hard Y/N had taken it when Eddie had died. It had never been the right time to ask her, he kept telling himself, even after she left, and he stayed. 

'Never the right time' had been his downfall. 

Work had been the same, a mother asking for a children’s movie, a teenager who was obviously not old enough to rent an R-rated movie asking where they could find one, and an older couple asking for Gone With The Wind. The door rang for the fourth time that day, and he recited the same old boring greeting. “Welcome to Family Video, do you need-” He looked up, his breath catching in his throat. 

It couldn’t be. 

“It’s been a while, Harrington.” She laughed, and his heart fluttered. God, her laugh was still the most perfect sound he’d ever heard. “Are you doing alright?” 

“I-” He grinned. Was this real? It had to be- nope, he had officially losing it. He should have opened up to Robin when he had the chance.

“Hello?” She stepped forward, giggling. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re spacing out on me. That’s my thing, you know. Not yours.” 

He laughed. “You look-” 

“Mama!” A little boy ran through the front door, clinging to Y/N’s leg. 

Steve’s head felt like it was spinning. 

“Hey, babe.” A man, around their age, walked up beside her, kissing her cheek gently. She grinned, leaning into his hold. “I tried to entertain him in the parking lot-” 

“It’s fine, honey.” She smiled, looking back at Steve with a sort of melancholy look. “This is Steve.” 

Steve waved, and the man waved back. Y/N’s cheeks were red, and in any normal situation, Steve would have laughed. She was cute when she was flustered. 

Right now, he couldn't find it in him to tease. He just wanted to curl up on the floor and die. “This is my husband Nick, and our son, Edmund.”

“No!” The little boy’s shrill yell livened up the place. 

Y/N laughed, looking down endearingly. “No, huh?” 

He nodded. “My name is Eddie.” 

Steve’s heart dropped, tears forming in his eyes as he stared at Y/N. Her husband laughed too, kneeling. “Kiddo, your nickname is Eddie. Your name is-” 

“Eddie!” 

‘Nick’ just laughed again, standing up. “There’s no convincing this one, I’m afraid.” 

Y/N stared back at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction. He finally spoke, finally said a full sentence for the first time since she’d walked in. “It’s a good name, Eddie.” 

She nodded, her eyes growing teary. “It is.” 

She was just as perfect as the last time he’d seen her. Radiant, happy, glowing, all things she was now. He knew, deep down, if he had told her that he loved her, she would have stayed, put her life on hold to be with him. And that - that was Steve’s worst nightmare. 

She had an actual chance, to leave, to make something of herself, and he wasn’t going to be the reason she never achieved it. He hadn’t, as he stared helplessly at her family, heart officially breaking when her husband set his hand on her growing stomach. “I get to name the next one.” 

Y/N shook her head, smacking his chest playfully. “I thought you said you liked Edmund.” 

“Kidding, babe.” He looked at Steve, smiling awkwardly. “Did you two know each other well?” 

Steve shook his head before he could think. “Just knew each other from school.” How do you tell the love of your life’s husband that you fought monsters together? He was almost sure Y/N hadn’t told him, and Steve didn’t blame her. He’d never told anyone either. “She was always the smart one, no one could keep up.” 

She wiped the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, laughing. “I wouldn’t say that…” 

Nick, who was really a nice guy, Steve would later realize (even if he hated his guts at that moment) nodded. “You still are.” He looked at Steve again, laughing. “She runs circles around me. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.” He kissed Y/N on the cheek, staring at her the way Steve wished he could. “Keeps me young.” 

That had made Steve laugh. Damn it. Y/N had laughed too, rolling her eyes. “You're 29, Nick. Not exactly old here.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Nick clapped his hands, grabbing Edmund from his wife’s leg. “Have any cartoons for this one?” 

Steve nodded, leading them down the aisles toward the kid's section. “Aladdin’s a good one.” 

Eddie had lost energy as quickly as he’d gained it, Nick carrying him to the car with a haphazard ‘nice to meet you’ thrown in Steve’s general direction. 

Y/N stood in front of the counter, handing Steve the cash for the movie. Her tone was light as she spoke, almost like no time had passed. “He’s a good kid.” 

Steve smiled. “Takes after his mother.” 

“He-” Her voice sounded thick, and she stared at him with something Steve couldn’t quite place. “I hope you’re doing okay, really.” 

He nodded. That seemed to be all he could do now. “I am.” 

“Well…” She clapped her hands, walking back. “I’ll see you.” 

She pushed the door open, sparing one last look before disappearing from his sight.

Maybe, he thought to himself as his very soul began to die, it would have been better just to go mad. Go mad thinking about what could have been, rather than seeing her and realizing she had everything he'd hoped for.

Just not with him.

taglist: @kendallroydefender @beebeechaos

[stellamarielu]

breaking the rules

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: declan can’t stop thinking about his daughter’s best friend, and it doesn’t help when he overhears her talking about how she’s never been satisfied in the bedroom

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, kinda pervy!declan, mentions of male masturbation, talks of female orgasms, just lots of yearning temptation and dirty scenarios, no actual sex happening here but still smutty

author’s note: writing best friend’s dad!declan is always calling my name and i’m just a girl with a dilf obsession! also this takes place after maud leaves and our man is lonely and in need of some attention

-

“Oh come on Taggie I’ve been waiting for weeks!” You were trying to keep your voice down but couldn’t help the way it came out in a hushed yell.

You and your best friend were sharing a throw blanket on her living room couch, sitting side by side under the warmth of the crocheted material. The television was on, the quiet hum and bright colors filled the old room of the priory but neither of you were paying any attention to it. The cheesy rom-com playing out on the tv made for the perfect background noise to your giggles and gossip. You’d been going for hours, talking about everything under the sun like two teenage girls at a slumber party. It was nearly 1 in the morning, and you were still going strong, the current topic up for discussion was her rather scandalous relationship with Rupert Campbell-Black. 

That’s when Declan had finally had enough of the noise coming from downstairs. He hadn’t slept more than an hour before he was woken up by the sound of his daughter and her best friend cackling. He tried ignoring it- even placing a pillow over his head to drown out the laughter, but here he was 55 minutes later and still not sleeping. So, he drug himself out of bed and threw on an old pair of sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt as he began his descent down the stairs to put an end to your fun. Only, he was stopped just one step shy of the living room doorway when he heard his friends name.

“Is Rupert good in bed?” 

He immediately recognized the voice as yours, familiar with the cheery tone that’s constantly filling the walls of his home.

“I mean he must be right? Compared to Ralphie?”

Declan didn’t like where this conversation was going. The less he knew about his daughter’s relations the better. While the topic was making him increasingly uncomfortable, he couldn’t hide his desire to know if Rupert had gone behind his back and touched her. He’s debating turning around and going back upstairs when he hears Taggie’s soft plea.

“Oh my God keep your voice down!” 

She’s much quieter than you, her words merely a whisper.

“We’ve literally just kissed the one time.”

Declan feels a massive weight lifting off his shoulders as Taggie speaks. A kiss was still infuriating and worth interrogating Rupert over, but he couldn’t have handled hearing anything more than that. 

“Tag. That was like two weeks ago.”

There’s your voice again. You’re trying to keep your volume down, but you’re still far louder than his daughter. 

“You’re telling me nothing else has happened? God Tag, I wouldn’t be able to keep it in my pants if I were you.” 

Taggie was laughing at your comment. Her giggle reminding Declan of the reason he was currently hiding outside his own living room. He was there to tell the two of you to keep the noise down, but had somehow found himself eavesdropping instead. The sudden guilt he felt as he listened to the gossip that wasn’t meant for his ears settled in and he turned on his heels to sneak back up the stairs. He was taking his first step away from your conversation when his ears began to burn at the words whispered from your lips. 

“I mean he’s attractive, his body is insane, and he would literally do anything for you. Even the way he looks at you is hot. If I were you, I’d be on that in like half a second.” 

“I’d be on that.” The words ring in Declan’s ears and he can’t help but picture you on top of him- straddling his waist. God he was sick, he had to stop thinking about you like that. You were Taggie’s best friend for Christ sake. 

Lately every time you were around- which was nearly all the time, Declan could hardly look you in the eye. He was ashamed of his little crush on you, but as much as he tried to push it away, it always found him late at night when he was alone in bed. There was so much about you that drew him in; your witty humor, your confidence, your endearing smile, your ass when you wore that one pair of jeans he liked so much. He just couldn’t get you off his mind. Now you were sitting in his living room talking about how much you wanted to mount Rupert Campbell-Black.

“I bet he is good in bed.”

You’re speculating and he can hear Taggie giggling and telling you to shut up. He knows for a fact her face is red in embarrassment. 

“I mean there’s no way he’s bad. Not with all that experience.”

You’re ignoring Taggie’s protests as you continue theorizing about Declan’s best friend’s sex life. 

“He probably knows exactly what he’s doing.”

Declan can hear a rustling noise and assumes Taggie must’ve hit you with a throw pillow. 

“Maybe I need to find an experienced older man of my own. I swear all these guys our age don’t know what the fuck they’re doing, I’m tired of faking orgasms.”

You were giggling but Declan could hear a hint of defeat in your words, his dick stirring in his sweats at hearing the word orgasm come out of your mouth. 

“They can’t all be that bad, what about the guy from last weekend? He seemed sweet.” Taggie chimed in, causing him to come back to reality.

Last weekend? Come to think of it Declan couldn’t recall seeing you at their house like he did most Saturday nights. He remembered Taggie coming home late and mentioning the two of you had spent a few hours at bar sinister over a bottle of chardonnay, but you were nowhere to be seen. 

“Yeah, sweet doesn’t account for bedroom prowess.” You were correcting your friend’s innocent remark.

“So it wasn’t good then?” 

“It was fine.” You sounded rather underwhelmed as you recounted your one-night stand.

“I think I’ve just given up hope that a man can get me off.” The dissapointment in your voice was undeniable as you whispered.

“Maybe I’m just broken.” You forced a laugh attempting to bring humor back into the mix. 

Declan couldn’t deny the anger he felt as you divulged your issue aloud sitting on his living room couch. Those pricks don’t deserve you. They don’t deserve to have you in their beds, getting their dicks wet at the expense of your dissatisfaction. 

“That’s why you need to speed things up with Rupert and tell me all about your adventures in the bedroom so I can live vicariously through you.” 

God he couldn’t bear to hear Rupert’s name in the context of his daughter’s sex life one more time. In fact, he couldn’t bear to listen to anything else regarding either one of your sex lives. 

He already knew he would be worked up for weeks just thinking about the fact that you were waiting around for someone to fuck you properly. 

It was going to torture him now– watching you waltzing in his front door with all that pent up frustration and knowing he could relieve you of the pressure with just the touch of his fingers. He already thought about making you come. He thought about it at least once a week with his hand wrapped around his dick. Envisioning you underneath him, chest heaving and eyes rolling back into your head with your pretty lips all pouted. He would bring himself to completion just from the mere idea of what you sounded like when you came undone. It was truly sick the way he would pump his cock until it was spilling over his fist, imagining such twisted fantasies starring his daughter’s best friend. 

He had to excuse himself from the hallway before he heard anything else that would fuel his forbidden desire. Taking a small step backwards toward the stairs, the weight of Declan’s foot caused the old wood floors to creak. He paused his movement, cursing himself for making a noise that could blow his cover. 

The halt of whispers and giggles coming from the living room let declan know you girls had heard the squeak from the doorway.

He tried his best to float into the room, making it look as if he had just walked down the stairs. 

“Oh god sorry. Were we being loud?” 

Taggie looked absolutely mortified to see her father standing before them given the last few minutes of conversation.

“It’s alright, just came down to grab some water.” He lied.

“didn’t realize you girls were in here.” Another lie.

He wanted to remain as nonchalant as possible. After overhearing all the sex talk, it was best for him not to mention you were so loud that he couldn’t sleep. The last thing he wanted was to make Taggie uncomfortable, or worse- her try to convince him that Rupert wasn’t a first-class rake at one in the morning. 

“We were just gonna go to bed.” Taggie’s cheeks were pink, and her voice was quiet.

Declan let his eyes wander over to you, just for one second– no half a second. But it was enough time for him to see the oversized t-shirt that was hanging off your shoulder exposing the curve of your neck. Unlike Taggie’s embarrassed demeanor you looked much more relaxed, maybe even a little relieved to see the man awake and shirtless in the doorway. He even caught the beginning of a smirk slipping onto your lips when he averted his gaze back to his daughter. 

“all good, just make sure you turn off the tv.” He was motioning to the romcom that neither of you had watched a single minute of that was now nearing it’s end. He raised his hand in a small wave as he continued to the kitchen, not letting his daughter get another word in. 

He was quick getting a glass and filling it with tap water, even taking a swig and attempting to allow the cool liquid to refresh his mind from the filthy thoughts of you still swimming in his brain. Only, it didn’t help much seeing as though he caught another glimpse of you on his way back to the stairs. You and Taggie had now given up on gossiping after nearly getting caught, and settled on watching the last bit of your movie in silence. You were snuggled into the side of the couch, your head resting against one hand playing with your hair and the other toying with the collar of your shirt that was hanging so low that it let declan get a good look at the top of your chest. There was absolutely no reason for him to find you so irresistible while doing nothing out of the ordinary, but he still found his heart racing in his chest at the sight of you.

He had to force his feet up the stairs to get him away before you had a more depraved effect on him, something other than just a quickening pulse.  

After getting back to his bedroom, declan tried everything to get you off his mind. He tossed and turned under his covers, chugged the rest of his water, smoked a cigarette down to the filter, read a few chapters of the book on his bedside table, but none of it stopped the images of you playing in his head- images of you in his bed, back arched while he knelt between your legs.

He was lying awake and staring at the ceiling, the only thing occupying his mind were the filthy visions of you. He was starting to think he would never sleep again and It didn’t help that the tv was still playing downstairs. The hum of some old sitcom carrying all the way upstairs making it impossible for Declan to drift off. It had been at least an hour since his little adventure downstairs and he was beginning to think the two of you would never go to sleep. 

finally having had enough of the noise, he stood up out of bed on a mission to tell you to go to bed and finally get to the end of this sleepless night. He was walking straight down the dark hallway but stopped abruptly at the stairs.

You were walking up as he was walking down- the two of you bumping into one another. His hands instinctively reaching out to hold your arms, steadying you in front of him. 

“Oh fuck- sorry.” The profanity slips out of your mouth at the shock of running into Declan’s hard, shirtless chest. 

He can’t help but chuckle at the curse, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard you say the word fuck. Something about it turns him on– God dammit he needs to get a grip. 

“I was just comin’ to tell you girls to get some sleep.” His voice is raspy and his hold on your arms is soft. 

“Tag fell asleep, and I couldn’t get comfy on the little sliver of couch she left me.” You were whispering and declan could barely see you in the dark but he could hear the smile in your voice. 

“I was just gonna crash in her room.” You motion to the first door at the top of the stairs that belonged to Taggie, just a few feet away from Declan’s. 

“Yeah of course.” He dropped his grip on you and took a small step to the side allowing you to walk past him. 

Your hand reaches for the doorknob of Taggie’s bedroom, but you stop.

“Sorry if we kept you up.” 

You look over to declan who was still standing at the stairs. He’s brushing off your apology with a wave of his hand. 

“You know me and my big mouth- I have a hard time keeping quiet.”

Declan has to keep his hands from clenching into fists at your words. a hard time keeping quiet God he wished he could test that out for himself. See if you could keep quiet while he fucked you nice and hard, holding your mouth shut to keep the moans from spilling out.

“How much of our conversation did you hear earlier, you know when you came down for water?” thankfully your voice pulled Declan from the obscene image of you currently playing in his head. 

For some reason he didn’t feel the need to lie to you.

“Enough to know my daughter is kissing Rupert Campbell-Black.” His response is point-blank.

You let out a deep sigh. Now thanks to you and your inability to keep your voice down, Taggie’s relationship with Rupert was probably ruined.

“Are you mad at her?”

“Not so much her as him.” He sounds disappointed as his whisper carries across the hall. 

“He’s a real piece of shit you know?” He makes sure to keep his voice low so the sleeping girl downstairs has no chance at hearing his words.

“I thought he was your best friend.”

You know he probably can’t see it, but you raise an eyebrow in question as you try to understand why Declan would say such a thing about someone so close to him.

“He is, which is how I know his intentions with women are never innocent.”

You went quiet.

Declan didn’t want to talk about Rupert- not right now. It was the middle of the night. He could not be faced with the moral dilemma of watching his daughter pine after his best-friend. Not while he was already faced with the equally moral issue of his daughter’s best friend being the reason he hadn’t slept all night.

And just like that, he was thinking about you again. Thinking about how your t-shirt covered your tiny little pajama shorts– so much so that they were hidden completely.

“As much as you may think older, more experienced men are better than the sleazy guys your own age, I can assure you they’re not.”

You freeze at his words. Is he referring to your earlier conversation with his daughter? The one where you were talking about guys your age “not knowing what the fuck they’re doing”. Had he heard you talking about your recent habit of faking orgasms? You almost bring your hands up to hide your face in embarrassment. 

“Not men like Rupert anyway.” 

Or him he thinks as declan reminds himself of his reoccurring unsavory thoughts about the younger woman standing just a few feet away.

“Right, well I’ll let tag know he’s an asshole then.” You’re speaking quickly hoping to put an end to the conversation so you can run into taggies room and escape the humiliation illuminating the hallway.

“Sorry to hear about the bloke from last weekend.” Declan’s changing the subject, keeping you from leaving. 

“I hate that a clever girl like yourself is wasting so much time on foolish little boys.” 

He’s taking casual steps toward you as he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Declan has no idea what he’s doing. All he knows is he doesn’t want you to open that door. He doesn’t want you to leave him standing alone in the hallway thinking about everything he wanted to do to you, wishing he could touch you– kiss you. 

“Yeah well, it’s that or nothing.” You’re joking, trying to remain friendly. You can’t figure out the reason Declan is bringing up this part of you and Taggie’s exchange.

“not nothing.” 

He’s close to you now, just an arm’s length away and his voice is enticing. 

“I’m sure there are lots of men out there who would bend over backwards to treat you the way you deserve to be treated- to give you the things you need.” 

Your jaw drops slightly at his words. he definitely heard you talking about your inability to orgasm with your recent hook-ups and now he’s directly referring to it. 

You had somehow found yourself standing a foot away from your best friends dad at 2 in the morning and the sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. His bare chest just within reach of your fingertips; you could feel the warmth radiating from his body and smell the mint of his toothpaste on his breath. It all felt so wrong, like you were breaking the rules. 

“Well you’ll have to let me know where they’re hiding. I’ve yet to find one who knows how to treat me the way I deserve to be treated.”

You put an emphasis on the phrase he used, treat you the way you deserve to be treated aka- actually able to make you come.

He looks taken aback by your confession. 

“not one?” 

You’re shaking your head in response to his curiosity.

“you’ve never been with a man who’s made you come?” he’s clarifying his question, and he sounds genuinely stunned. 

“Correct.” Your voice is soft as you reply and a beat of silence passes between the two of you.

“I don’t even know how we started talking about this. I should go to bed, goodnight Mr. O’Hara.” 

You’re whispering quickly, flustered knowing that Declan is now privy to your shameful sex life. You’re confused why he brought it up, and you’re even more confused by his sudden flirtatious demeanor. You must be reading the situation wrong because there’s no way Declan O’Hara wants you in that way–right? It’s Taggie’s dad. Taggie’s hot dad. Shit- you need to go to bed. Maybe a few hours of sleep will help wipe this whole conversation from your memory.

Taggie’s bedroom door is creaking open as you turn the knob, but before you can take a step inside Declan’s hand is reaching for your arm. It was the second time tonight you felt his gentle touch on your bicep, and it made your face feel hot. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” His words are kind and sincere.

“You shouldn’t even be embarrassed.” His voice is just so gentle.

You turn to face him and realize how close you are, just inches away from his face.

“Those fuckin’ idiots who don’t know how to touch you properly should be embarrassed.”

it’s dark but you can make out the expression on his face– it’s serious, his eyes intently watching you.

it’s silent for a moment, both of you staring at each other in the dark. his hold on your arm loosens and he lets his hand lightly trace the length of your arm.

“You’re a beautiful girl you know.” His voice is light and airy as his fingertips tickle your skin.

“I don’t think those boys could even handle being with a woman like you.”

His touch is getting lower and lower on your arm.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you do need to find yourself an older man.”

his hand finds the hem of your t-shirt nearly brushing the skin of your exposed thigh.

“Declan.”

You can’t tell if your murmuring his name as a warning or a plea, but the way your almost whining has you thinking it must be the latter option.

“Not Mr. O’Hara?” There’s a smile in his words.

His fingertips come in contact with your upper thigh and your breath hitches. You think about telling him to stop, reminding him how angry Taggie would be about this, but you don’t. You don’t say a single word. Instead you let out a sigh of relief desperately hoping he keeps touching you.

“Do you want me to touch you like this.”

You’re silently nodding, giving him permission to do whatever he wants to you. It feels so corrupt having his fingertips dancing at the hem of your pajama shorts, but you can’t think of anything you wanted more than to have his hand between your legs. 

“Use your words love.”

Declan’s urging you to verbally consent, partially because he wants you to be sure and another part because he needs the satisfaction of hearing you beg for him. 

“Yes.”

Your back is arching causing your body to push into him. He never could’ve imagined you’d feel so delicate against him. Your body was so warm, so gentle, so pleasant, so new.

“I want it, please Declan.” You’d never called him by his first name before tonight, always Mr. O’Hara. 

The sound of you whimpering his name has Declan eager to hear what it would sound like to have you screaming it. He’s starting to pull the barely-there material of your shorts to the side when a distant sound has you both frozen.

It’s the unmistakable creak of someone walking up the stairs, wood squeaking underneath footsteps. In an unspoken agreement you’re both turning opposite directions and quietly turning doorknobs. He’s sneaking back into his bedroom and you’re tiptoeing into Taggie’s.

Your light feet carry you to Taggie’s bed and you’re jumping into the sheets making yourself look cozy. Her steps are heavy and her eyes are barely open as Taggie comes walking into her bedroom not long after you.

“Remind me to never fall asleep on that couch again.” She’s yawning as she crawls into bed next to you.

“So uncomfy.”

She’s settling under the covers and you’re glad the room is dark so she can’t see how wide awake you are.

“Sorry, you looked so peaceful, I didn’t wanna wake you.” You whisper back to your friend as she’s dozing off.

You just lay there next to her. There’s no way in hell you’ll be able to sleep. Not after the way her dad was just speaking to you in the hallway. The way his hands were touching you; so close to doing something neither of you could take back. You wondered what he must be thinking right now. Was he laying in bed thinking about you like you were thinking about him? Did he regret it? You sure didn’t, not one bit. In fact, all you wanted to do was sneak across the hall into Declan’s room and finish what he started.

my masterlist

[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red | Chapter Twelve: Eyes Like Fire

Dbf!Joel miller x f!oc (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: After Janet finds out about you and Joel, it's finally time to tell Sarah. Can she handle knowing you've been with her dad for over a year?

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, written in 2nd POV, no use of y/n, broken father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, dd/lg relationship dynamic, toxic dynamic between reader and stepmom, name calling, slut shaming,shitty perceptions of reader from dad, physical fight, blood mentioned, a nice morning fuck ruined very quickly by arguing, strong language, choking, p in v, fingering, creampie, kitchen sex, hair pulling.

Authors Note: It's here and so am I. I hope you find comfort in knowing Joel Miller would never let your shitty dad be horrible and would knock his teeth out over you <3 that's all. love you.

|| wc: 5.9k and unbeta'd af || series masterlist || main masterlist || divider by me ||

The music didn’t seem nearly as loud as it did when you first got here. The anxiety washes over your body as you look at the pink camera in your hands, the photo staring right back.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

Your mouth feels dry as it falls slightly open, your watery eyes scanning over everyone before falling onto Joel. 

“I can explain…” 

But you couldn’t. Nothing was coming out. Not a single idea or excuse was coming to mind. Not a fucking thing. 

Janet scoffs and crosses her arms over the ugly floral top she had on. 

“I would just love to hear the excuses you try to feed us this time. Go on, tell everyone how you seduced your fathers best friend and took him from another woman.” Her fake smile only boiled your blood more. 

Joel looks like a deer in headlights, caught between saying something and making it worse or staying silent. 

“I didn’t seduce him and take him from anybody. It just happened.” The crack in your voice from pleading was fueling your anger in the situation. It felt like high school all over again, being humiliated in front of a crowd for someone else's amusement. 

Janet parts the crowd of bodies even wider as she gets closer, just a few feet apart now. 

“Does he even know you slept with his brother? You just can’t help yourself can you? Is this why you came back to Texas, to be a little harlot and sleep with everyone and, in this case, their brother?” 

“I didn’t sleep with his brother you dumb bitch! What, are you jealous I had him in my hand like putty the night I got here and you could never get him in bed with you?” 

Only now did your dad feel like it was time to say what he wanted. Storming over to you closer than Janet was, he didn’t blink as he made himself very clear.

“Don’t you call her a bitch! You will respect her! I didn’t raise you to be that way.” 

It shouldn’t be so surprising your dad just let her get away with calling you almost every name besides the word slut. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt just the same if not more. 

Your head hangs as you feel defeated. Nothing was ever going to change, never. He was too far gone to realize the damage he’s done and he won’t go back now. He’d rather die a coward than try to make amends.

“You raised me? Where were you when I had my final piano recital? Did you take me to any of my doctors appointments? Did you call me on my birthdays? Did you ever have any clothes for me at your house the few summers I came to stay with you? Where were you, Dad? You’re lying to yourself if you think you raised me.”

Groaning as he throws his hands in the air, your dad shakes his head and mutters under his breath a slew of profanities. 

“Here you go with the piano recital again. I was at work, my boss wouldn’t let me leave. You don’t get to make me feel bad about that. Just in case you weren’t aware, a phone works both ways.” 

Joel inches closer and closer until he’s behind you, showing you he’s not going anywhere, not now. He links his pointer finger with yours behind your back and just the small gesture from him makes the lump in your throat grow, feeling like a baseball now. 

“I was a kid…I am a kid. I will always be the kid in the story. I moved with mom and suddenly my siblings and I didn’t matter, not as much as Janet’s kids, right? I’m just supposed to watch you play house with someone else?”

“Their dad up and left town without a word, they needed a father-”

“I needed a father! I needed my father!” There it was. The thing that’s been killing you to say. It felt as if you threw up sewing needles and tar, nonetheless you managed to spit it out. 

“Well you can forget that now. You seduced my best friend, made him break up with his girlfriend, all for what? To get back at me? To punish me? I pity you if this was your way of needing my attention.” He steps closer and you immediately feel like the scared little girl sitting in the corner again, waiting for it to be over. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to prepare for whatever may come and you feel your hand drop from covering your face, a presence standing in front of you. Like a fucked up version of a prince saving the damsel in distress, there Joel was, swooping in to save you in your most broken down state, shielding you from the big bad dragon licking its chops ready to tear you to pieces. 

“Alan. Think about the next thing you say to her or I will knock your fucking teeth down your throat.” 

Though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he had that look he was giving your dad, the same one he had the first time he saved you from those guys at the bar. 

“Joel you understand, don’t you? You have a daughter.” 

“I do, but I would never in a million years treat her the way you treat yours. Since the day she got here, you put her in my care. Mine-” He pauses to gather himself, the anger about to make him explode. 

“You don’t deserve a daughter like her. You don’t deserve her period. Neither of you assholes do” Joel states harshly before grabbing your hand, leading you back inside to leave. 

“Whatever Joel, you’ll see why she runs away when shit gets tough. She can’t handle it, she’s a scared little bitc-“ 

The crowd of people gasp before you look down and see Janet bent over with her hand cupping her jaw, yelling in pain, blood pouring from her mouth. Your fist was gaining feeling in it before you realized you hit her. 

You hit Janet. 

Joel’s eyes go big and he grabs you once more before getting you out of there as fast as he could, trying to spare you from anything your dad was shouting as he helped Janet to her feet. 

He opens the driver's side door and tosses your purse inside on the passenger seat before stepping aside to let you in. “I’ll meet you at home. Go on, be safe. I’m right behind you, baby. Right behind you.” 

You start your car and pull off quickly, Joel’s truck tailing you closely.. The radio was blasting your Deftones CD from earlier, Hole In the Earth just making the tears fall right out of your eyes. Digging in your purse to grab a cigarette, you light the end of it before taking a deep inhale, your mind already replaying what happened. 

It all happened so fast. One minute you were with Joel and having a decent time and then before you knew it, you were looking down at your bloody knuckles wrapped around your steering wheel. You pull into Joel's driveway and turn your car off, the cigarette just about finished when he comes to your car door and opens it. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s go inside.”

”Joel what did I do? Genuinely…what did I do?” The mascara that once coated your eyelashes only hours ago was now staining your cheeks, creating streaks down your neck. 

He squats down and you hear his knees crack, muffled by his jeans.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. One day he’ll see the damage he’s caused but by then it’ll be too late. Sometimes the hardest way to heal ourselves is to let go of the people we want to keep close, even if that hurts more.” 

Joel doesn’t say anything more as he lets you mince over his words that he only hopes to help you in some way. Getting out of the car, you walk to his front door with the keys tucked between your fingers as if you were Wolverine ready to attack someone or something. 

“Do you still have that sandbag in the garage?” 

“Y-yeah, it’s over in the corner.” 

He walks you through the house to the garage and flips the light on, pointing to the red colored sack right in the corner where he said it was. 

You take off the copious amount of rings scattered across your fingers and put them in his hand before making your way to the sandbag, throwing your tightly closed fist back before it makes contact with the plastic covering of the bag. 

Over and over, you hit the bag to release all the anger and frustration you harbor inside your body, a guttural scream clawing out of your throat to echo off the walls. All the bullshit your dad and Janet have said to you over the last year circling your brain, only causing your screams to get louder. At this moment, you didn’t care what Joel thought about any of this. You didn’t care how you looked in his eyes. You needed this for you and unfortunately Joel’s sandbag was the temporary solution. 

Feeling your knees get weaker with every punch becoming softer than the last, you fall to the floor and soon enough Joel comes behind you, rubbing your back and unsure of what to say. Joel picks you up off the floor and takes you inside to the bathroom, leaning you against the sink as he drowns your knuckles in peroxide to clean them thoroughly. 

“Don’t ever let someone get leverage over your emotions again, understand?” Joel didn’t sound angry or as if he was giving you a lecture, it was more like a lesson for next time and he was right. Janet got under your skin, exactly what she wanted. She wanted your dad to see you in a worse light than he already did. She wanted you to lose your cool. 

You stare at the floor still feeling uneasy and raging inside but once more you tuck away the ugly part of you and start to plan. 

-

“So you clocked her?” Tommy laughs and shovels eggs into his mouth and you look up at him from under your hood, grinning at how impressed he was until Joel shook his head. 

“Tommy…stop.” 

Your grins drop at the serious tone from Joel. 

“What, man? I’m just sayin’ I’m glad someone finally hit that bitch, she’s insane. Very proud of you, kid.” Tommy holds out for a fist bump and you drop your fork to meet him halfway. 

“I don’t think hitting her is something we need to be bumpin’ fists over. This shit is nowhere near over, you do know that? For all of us? I knew I should’ve moved to the fuckin’ mountains when I had the chance.” 

Your brows furrow slightly as you swallow dryly, Tommy trying to lighten the mood after Joel’s grumpy testament. 

“Aren’t you glad you stuck around though?” Tommy smiles and bites off more than he can handle of his pancakes. 

Waving your hand to dismiss Joel’s attitude, you turn to face him more and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s not going to do anything, okay? Most that’ll come out of this is that he’ll never speak to me again which I don’t mind. He’ll forgive you because somehow that makes sense in his brain, and Janet will continue being a hateful cunt. We’ll be fine, baby. Promise.”

You hold your pinky out for Joel to hook his around and squeeze but he continues to shove a cut piece of potato in his mouth. He could never say no to those puppy dog eyes you make when you wanted to get your way with him. 

“Such a brat, you know that?” He huffs and tucks his chubby pinky around yours, holding tightly before pulling you close for a gentle kiss, when you hear the beginning guitar strums playing over the diner speakers above your head. You wrap your arms around Joel’s bicep and lean your head on him, looking out the window to your left as the sunlight pokes through the blue gingham curtains.

Graceless lady, you know who I am

You know I can't let you slide through my hands

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Humming the melody softly while Joel and Tommy talk and finish their food, your mind begins to race with ideas and maybe solutions to this issue. What if you left Texas? Find somewhere new to start over and get away from your dad for good. It wasn’t a total mistake moving back here because had you not, you would’ve never met Joel. There was too much wrapped into this now and running was the coward's way out. Texas was big enough for the both of you to be here, right?

-

Filling your lungs with a big breath, you open Joel’s front door to see him and Sarah in the kitchen getting dinner ready to be served. You’d be lying if you said your heart wasn’t beating in your throat, scared of how you were going to tell her you’d been seeing her dad for the last year, sneaking around like a pair of teenagers. Figured you shouldn’t smoke a cigarette before this, good impressions and all that shit. The breakfast from earlier was long gone by this point and you were too anxious to feel hungry.

“I didn’t know you were coming! Love the dress by the way, very you” Sarah says kindly, giving you a smile that somewhat resembles Joel’s.

“Thank god, I was wondering if it went with my boots or not.” You bend your leg behind you to show her your black boots, earning a nod from her for your outfit. So far so good. 

You finally look at Joel and see him leaned against the kitchen sink with his arms crossed over his chest, silently taking in the small interaction between you two. Your breath catches and your nerves ramp up just seeing him in his black t-shirt with the daintiest gold chain hanging from his neck. 

“Anything I can help with?” You ask and set your phone on the counter with your purse tucked away on the stool by the countertop. 

“If you wanna carry the salad to the table, that’d be good. Dad can carry the rest” Sarah chimes in and hurriedly grabs the plates with the silverware banging against the top, rushing you into the dining room so Joel’s left to handle the main course. 

You set the wooden bowl down off center of the table, leaving enough room for Joel to empty his hands and Sarah walks in circles as she arranges each place setting. 

“Baby, can you sit in my seat this time, please?” Joel asks as he points Sarah into the chair he’s talking about, meaning he wants each of you to be on either side of her when you tell her. 

Thanks, Joel. 

She looks at him confused and plops down in the seat, not understanding yet. 

“Why are you being so weird today, Dad?”

You take another deep breath and look at Joel before he sits down and looks at Sarah.

“Well, there’s something I wanna talk to you about and I want you to be honest how it makes you feel, alright?” His tongue pokes out from behind his teeth and grazes over his lips, his arms moving slightly indicating he was rubbing his hands together anxiously under the table.

She nods and you sit down in the chair next to her, sitting straight as a board, almost scared to make a move.

“I’ve been seeing someone for a little over a year now and I wanted to be sure about it before I told you. I know it’s been you and I for as long as you can remember and I feel like we’re in a good enough place to share it with you, sweetheart.” Joel extends his hand across the table and wiggles his fingers, wanting you to hold his hand. 

Sarah immediately looks at you, taking in every square inch of you, sizing you up as she’s processing the news. It was almost too painful to breathe, like you were under a microscope being examined for everything. Your dress was suddenly too tight, your sock was slouching down from your boot yanking on it, everything was too much. 

“It’s about time you told me.” The smirk on her face was the needle you needed to burst your anxiety balloon sitting inside your chest.

Joel’s head drops for a few seconds and it’s upright again, eyes fixed on his daughter.

“Sarah Miller, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“First, swear jar. Second, I found her picture in your room the other day when I was looking for some lunch money.”

Your brows furrow and his face turns red.

“Picture? What picture?” you chime in, confused about what she’s talking about. 

“I dunno, you’re holding some cake with peeps on it.” 

Your mind swirls around for what feels like forever as you try to recall when he took that photo from your dads house. How did he go this long without you realizing he had it? It almost brings a tear to your eye to know how loved you truly are by Joel, the fact he’d steal that in the off chance he’d get caught. 

“I know the one. How do you feel about all this, Sarah?” 

She looks between the pair of you and shrugs, toying with her cup in front of her plate.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s weird in a way. I mean, it’s really only been my dad and I so it’ll take some time getting used to it but I like you and I think you’re really good for him. I mean, between us two, he stopped wearing socks with holes in them, so I think you’re influencing him well.” 

Joel purses his lips and gives Sarah an unamused look. 

You two burst out laughing at him and he lets go of your hand to start passing around dinner. 

“Alright, I can see how this is gonna be. Already getting ganged up on by my girls.” 

It was comforting knowing she was okay with you being with him. Every place in your life you felt like you didn’t belong, like you were a ghost floating around to find your purpose or the one little sliver of the universe that’s yours. 

Who knew it would be at the Millers house back in the one state you tried to run from for so long? 

“And Sarah-“ Joel swallows his bite of food before continuing, “stop going in my room when I’m not home.” 

-

The clock on the microwave showed fifteen minutes before midnight and Sarah was passed out in her bed upstairs, Joel tucked away on his couch with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Baby..? Are you asleep?” 

He doesn’t move and you sit up more to see his eyes closed, head down slightly.

“Joel” you whisper and softly nudge him awake, “cmon, let’s go to bed.” 

“I wasn’t asleep, I was watching TV. I’m not even tired” he says in a groggy voice trying to put on an act.

“Yeah right, I highly doubt you know what Mike Rowe is doing on Dirty Jobs. Let’s go, chief.” 

You hold out your hand to help him up and he follows you upstairs across the hall from Sarah’s room, the streetlight cascading in behind her purple curtains. 

Joel shuts the white painted door behind him and locks it, immediately shedding out of his clothes down to his underwear. Looking around you scratch your head and debate going back home for a moment just to grab pajamas, not that there’s anything wrong with borrowing Joel’s clothes, you’d just rather not sleep like Pooh bear the first night with a full house. 

“Gotcha something on my way home, go look in the bathroom.” 

You turn on your heel to look at him curiously and slowly make your way into his en suite bathroom, noticing the new pair of pajamas folded nicely on the sink in your favorite color. 

The buttery smooth satin under your fingertips makes you smile at the thoughtful gesture of him buying these for you, knowing you can’t resist a good pj set. 

“You mind if I shower, actually?” you poke your head out from the bathroom and see Joel in bed with the TV on and he meets your gaze, shaking his head no and giving you a smile. 

“Do whatever you want, baby. Whatever makes you feel at home.” 

And you did just that. The extra hot water ran over your skin as you washed yourself clean, soaking in the day and everything that’s come from it. It would be over in just a few short minutes and a new day would start but this one would stick with you for a while. 

When you get out of the shower and get dressed, you open the bathroom door and the cool air hits your damp skin. Soft snores come from Joel asleep in his bed, laying on his tummy facing your direction. 

“Yeah, not tired my ass.” 

You climb in bed next to him as if you’d wake him up with one move but realistically it wouldn’t faze him one bit. Getting adjusted, you listen to the TV as you look out his bedroom window, mind too busy to sleep. The train going over the tracks in the distance blows its horn, Joel stirring in his sleep to pull you against his chest tightly. 

-

Waking up the next morning in Joel’s bed, face down and tangled in his sheets, you feel the emptiness beside you and yawn tiredly as you sit up, looking around his room in the daylight. 

It was cozy, not nearly as messy as yours, but cozy. Photos of him and Sarah tacked to the walls with push pins, random piles of loose change on his dresser, his watch resting on top of a small stack of books, everything seeming to have a place. 

You walk softly down the stairs, carefully trying to see where everyone’s at. Small flips of pages come from the kitchen and you find Joel’s back facing you, the steam from his coffee rising over his shoulder before disappearing in air. 

He sighs in relief when you lean against him and kiss his neck tenderly, wrapping your right arm around his front, keeping him as close as you can. 

“Morning sweetheart. Saved you some coffee if you want it.” 

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, biting his neck before releasing him from your hold and sitting next to him in the wooden chair. 

“She and Tommy went to the mall so she can hang out with her friends. She says i'm too embarrassing to chaperone them or somethin’ like that.” 

You toy with your cigarette box and debate going outside to have a smoke out on the back patio. 

“Baby I love you, but I one hundred percent understand why she wouldn’t want her dad coming with to the mall. It’s a teenage thing, ya know? I was like that with my mother.”

He rubs his sock covered foot against your leg tenderly, “Yeah you’re right. I didn’t want to go anyway to tell you the truth. Tommy can be responsible for a bunch of teenagers for a day.”

Giggling at the fake amusement in his voice, you walk to the cupboard and pour yourself some coffee and turn around, feeling a set of eyes burning into your head.

‘Why are you staring at me, weirdo?” The hot liquid coats your throat and it feels nice, the itch of wanting that cigarette dying a little. 

Joel gets up from the chair and plants himself in front of you, lips attacking your neck before giving you time to react. 

“What’s the matter, I can’t look at my girlfriend? hm?” he inquires playfully, not really expecting you to answer.

The once sweet kisses turn rough and he pins your arms above your head against the light stained wood, digging into your skin firmly with each breath he steals between kisses. You moan softly and inch closer to him until your fronts are sandwiched together, begging for a little bit of friction. If you could get paid to stay home with him and fuck his brains out, you’d be a billionaire by now.

“Not when you stare, no’’ you breathlessly reply.

“Too bad, you’re fucking beautiful so I’m gonna stare.” His freehand comes up to the crown of your head and grabs firmly on a chunk of your hair, as close to the root as he can, just to give a reassuring pull that he was there and he meant every word he was saying. 

You lock your ankles together around his body and start grinding against the semi soft bulge in his pants, the head of his cock nudging your clit that was already throbbing. 

“Right here in the kitchen? That's where you want it, sweet girl?” 

Joel wraps his bulky arms around you tightly, so desperate to feel your body on his. Quickly taking the opportunity, you slip your pants and panties down to your ankles, looking at his dark brown eyes as you rest your head against the cupboard, letting his hands roam all over your body, admiring as if you were the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen.

“Look at me when you slip it in, okay? I wanna see you go to heaven.” 

A devious smile grows on his face and he puts his middle and ring finger in your mouth, pushing against your tongue to make you close around him, getting his fingers coated with saliva. Like two magnets finding their way again, you feel those same fingers that were in your mouth now on your clit, the arousal being added to the mix. 

“You are so goddamn beautiful. An absolute angel. Look at me baby, right here, okay? Look at me.” 

Joel smacks the head on your aching cunt before dipping inside, your eyebrows furrowing in pleasure, so confused how sex could feel so good, so addicting.

“Oh my fucking god, Joel. Go slow, go slow” you pant, rubbing his sides as a guide for him like he needed it. 

“You’re taking it so well, sweetheart. So wet for me too, that’s it. Come here” he says before kissing you deep, tongue immediately pushing its way into your mouth to touch yours. His entire cock was inside you and pumping slowly at first, gaining speed with each kiss shared.

As soon as he kissed you like that, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle much. Something about him fucking you so deep and slow and kissing you so sloppy made your head spin and your knees turn to jelly. You whine his name on his lips, nails digging into his back the harder he pressed into you. 

“Just like that, baby. Fuck me just like that-fuck-like that.” Your breathing matches each other and his hand digs into your hip, pinning you right in your spot so you couldn’t run from the fucking you were getting.

“Yeah you like that, honey? I know I know I know-” he coos teasingly before continuing between groans, “I know you like when I fuck you hard. What if I put my hand right here and squeeze, that turns you on more when daddy chokes you?” Joel’s hand wraps firmly around your neck and applies light pressure while he continues to thrust harder inside. 

Your broken moans serve as an answer to him which in return makes him moan louder, driving him crazy knowing how much power he has over you when you’re like this. The way you give yourself up to him and give him control, the trust being so apparent, quite frankly it could make him come just thinking about it.

His thick fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing tight circles to keep you whining for more. It was like you were drowning but you didn’t mind, you wanted more pressure in your lungs, you needed it. Pressing your damp forehead to his and feeling both hands on your hips now, you try to tell him you were going to come but he shoves his fingers in your mouth, gagging you to silence.

“Come with me baby, give it to me. Give me all of it, right now. Be good for daddy and come with me” he whispers, pressing lazy kisses to your temple while you shatter on his arms, crying out his name as you shake and buck your hips from the overwhelming ecstasy taking over your body.

Joel gives a few more thrusts and you feel him pulsing inside you as he comes, grabbing a fistful of your hair once more to give a squeeze as he fills you up. You kiss him deeply again, your lips muffling his swears and grunts of your name, the two of you trying to calm down and bask in the moment as much as you could. 

Just as you break apart and look at him, his phone rings.

At least they waited until after you got fucked.

Joel shuffles to the table as he pulls his underwear up and looks at the screen, hesitating to answer. 

“What do you want?” 

Seconds go by without Joel saying a word and you still are clueless as to who it is. Hopping off the counter carefully and getting dressed once more, you walk over and wrap yourself in his arm with your head resting on his chest, the steady thumps of his heart calming you like a lullaby. 

“I don’t think it’s a good time for you to come over right now, she’s not in the mood and neither am I to be frank.”

Bashfully looking at him, you start to worry who it is.

“Fine, you can talk to me but you aren’t saying a word to her, that’s the deal. Take it or leave it Alan.”

Now it starts to make sense. 

Joel tosses the phone back on the table after hanging up and sighs in frustration.

“He wants to come talk to you?” 

“I guess, not sure what about but I’ll entertain this idea he has. I won’t let him go near you, okay? I promise.”

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip softly as you nod and pats your ass to get this shitshow moving along.

“Just stay in my room and don’t come out until I get you. It’ll be fine. I’m not above hitting anyone over you.”

 Glaring at him humorless and turning on your heel, you head upstairs and stop halfway, taking Joel’s bait.

“But when I hit someone it’s not okay?” you ask a little more sarcastically than you wanted. You stop at the top of the stairs and cross your arms, giving him a side eye. 

“I just didn’t have any bail money on me, baby.” The shit eating grin on his face just irritates you more and you want to wipe it right off. 

Stomping your feet the rest of the way to his room and slamming the door behind you, you flop onto his bed and groan loudly into the pillows. It was clearly no surprise you were upset with your dad once again ruining another day for you and Joel, it was almost more shocking when he left you alone for more than twenty-four hours.

-

“I just don’t know what you expect from me Alan! I’ve stuck by you for years and never once did you tell me about her. You’re embarrassed of her and everything she is, admit it.”

The raised voices wake you up from the small nap you apparently took and your body starts to get that feeling. You know, the one where you shiver uncontrollably even though you aren’t cold and nothing makes sense, nothing feels safe. You get out of his bed and manipulate the door handle just right to open silently so you can sneak out and listen over the railing of the stairs. 

“I’m not embarrassed by her, she’s my kid. Mine. I don’t agree with everything she’s done and how she’s lived, but she’s my blood.” His words make you sick as he always says the same shit he always did. Blood wasn’t starting to hold much weight to you anymore. 

“She’s your flesh and blood but you sit there with your wife and tear her down until she’s nothing but a shell of herself. You dim her light to satisfy that guilty feeling of not being present. She came here to start over, to fix any last shred of a relationship she could have with you and you fucked it up.”

The room falls silent and you don’t move a muscle, afraid someone would hear you and know you were eavesdropping. 

“I didn’t fuck this up. She did; by getting with you. She lied to you and brought you to my ex who’s even better at manipulating people, and now you’re brainwashed just like them. She never called me when she was living with her mother and a phone works both ways. I’ve always tried to teach her that, Joel. She’s hardheaded and she’s selfish. Do you know how much money I’ve spent on her since she was born? She never went to college, she doesn’t talk to her sister, probably because she’s jealous of the life she created for herself and her kids. She’s just lost right now and buddy, I’d hate to see you get hurt because of her. She’s a child.”

Your stomach was turning and you at some point covered your mouth with your hand to silence your crying. Joel's boots shuffle on the floor and you hear a door, probably the one leading outside the house. 

“Get out. Now. She’s better off without you, she won’t lose sleep over not having whatever this was you were trying to be for her. Don’t contact her again and don’t come around here badmouthing her in front of me unless you have a serious wish to spend a couple nights in the hospital. We’re done. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” Joel’s tone was something you’ve never heard before, it was kind of scary if you were being honest.

Your dad scoffs and you can hear more shuffling. “Listen-”

“NOW!” Joel yells.

Flinching at the sudden outburst of anger, your heart rattles inside your chest as it did when your parents used to fight when you were younger.

You sit on the landing and place your feet on the stairs below it, in disbelief at what you just heard.

He slams the front door shut and curses loudly before walking to the stairs and stopping as soon as he sees you sitting there silently. Joel runs a hand through his hair and over his face before moseying up and sitting a few steps further from you, his arm draped over your lap. 

“You know I don’t believe anything he ever says, right?” 

“I know, I just don’t think I should stay here anymore.” You fiddle with your thumbs trying not to look at him.

“Baby I understand if you want some space and want to go back home, I’m not that far away.” His attempts at jokes are noted and appreciated but you couldn’t shake this feeling. 

“No, Joel. I mean Texas. I need to go.”

[th3cadav3r]

Hello! I think a nice sfw fluff scenario for the Tulpar crew would be headcanons of how each character would react when the reader hesitantly tells them they don’t like sex or are asexual. Reader can be gn. Thank you, I really like your headcanon writings!

SFW Mouthwashing Headcanons—Asexual Reader

content: fluff, kissing, cuddling, mentions of sex, very very very slight acephobia from Jimmy(but with a happy ending)

author’s note: Keep in mind that I am not asexual therefore I cannot understand or fully grasp the asexual experience. I just tried my best based on what I’ve seen and heard online. Hope you enjoy!

Daisuke

You and him had been dating for about three weeks

You always held hands and made out a lot, but nothing more than that

His libido is pretty high because of his age, so naturally he wanted more

You were making out on the couch when suddenly you felt his hands start to wander

It was fine at first until his hand started reaching a little too low for comfort

“Wait—”you blurt out

He stops immediately, retracting his hand

“Sorry, did I do something wrong?” His voice is full of genuine concern

“No, it’s not your fault. I just uh…don’t want that”

He was a little confused. “We can move to my bed if you want” He suggests, thinking that you just wanted more privacy than the living room provided

“No, I…I mean I don’t want to have sex. It’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t like it”

He didn’t expect that but he understood. He smiled reassuringly

“That’s alright. I get it”

You breathed a sigh of relief and your body relaxed. You felt like you truly didn’t deserve such a sweet boyfriend

“Here—we can just cuddle instead” He offers with his arms open. You gladly accept

You spent the rest of the afternoon napping together and playing video games when you woke up

This was definitely different for him compared to his previous relationships, but he didn’t care. He loves you for you

Anya

You started dating towards the end of the trip

She’s more of a words of affection girl than a physical touch girl, which is perfect for you

At one point when things started to get a bit steamy, you finally told her

“Before this gets too far…you should know something about me”

You tell her how you feel no desire for sex but that you still love her the same. Of course she’s understanding once you explain it to her

“I appreciate that you told me”

You both have a long discussion about what is and isn’t okay in regards to your and her comfort. And you both come out of the conversation with a much better and deeper understanding of each other

Now whenever you and her get touchy, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel good without crossing the line

Curly

There was no doubt about it: You were the captain’s favourite

You spent a lot of time alone with him in the cockpit just chatting about the most random things

He definitely grew a liking to you and you to him. One day he asked you what exactly he was to you

You confessed your feelings to him and he does the same. While the moment feels amazing, you can’t help but feel worried about his reaction to your sexuality

“Hey, I should let you know–” You decide to just tell him now. “–I don’t really want this to be a sexual thing, okay?”

He’s a bit taken aback, you can clearly see that in his face. But he is by no means offended or upset

“No worries, then,” he reassures. “Thanks for telling me”

For the next few days, he was very overly cautious. He asked if you were comfortable before he gave you any kind of physical affection. It was a bit exhausting at first, but you appreciated that he cared so much

Swansea

Let’s be real: This man is old

His sex drive is almost all long gone

And he let you know this when you told him about your lack of sexual desire

“Yeah, so what?” he says gruffly and bluntly. “I’m fifty-fuckin’-six years old, sweetheart. Just thinking about sex makes my back hurt”

You were totally expecting that response. It still made you smile from ear to ear though

He wasn’t really a lovey-dovey type of guy when the others were around, but when you two were alone in his bedroom he was a lot more affectionate. Cuddles, kisses, caresses…everything he did was so gentle and comfortable

Jimmy

You’re definitely a lot closer to him than anyone else on board, even Curly

Neither of you really knew where you stood in terms of a relationship, but your “hangouts” included a lot of making out and touching

This was fine initially, but at a certain point it became too much for you

“Hold on—”You grab his wandering hand and move it off of your body

“What?” He was genuinely surprised that you stopped him

“This is going a bit too far for me”Your body tenses up, anticipating a very awkward and uncomfortable conversation

“What do you mean?” He sounded a little hurt and a bit annoyed

“I don’t…have a drive like that. I don’t want to do sexual stuff”You laid it all out for him

He was quiet for a bit. You couldn’t exactly read his face so you were starting to get a little nervous

“It’s not because of me, right?”

“No, of course not,” you reassure. “That’s just how I am”

He sighs. Whether it was out of relief or frustration you couldn’t tell

“Alright”

The atmosphere between you and him was a little awkward for the next few days. You couldn’t help but worry

“Sorry if I was being distant,” he finally told you one afternoon. “Just thinking things through”

“That’s alright” You were lying; you were a little upset that he basically ghosted you after you were so vulnerable with him, but you were willing to just let it go, at least for now

“I know you have your…thing. But I still like you”

Well that was a surprise. But a good one. Definitely a good one. You told him that you liked him back

He was a bit disappointed that he couldn’t do everything he hoped to do with you, but he still liked you a lot. Besides, he could always just “take care” of himself in private

[peakyswritings]

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

CHAPTER 14 - EPILOGUE OF PART ONE

Summary: All hell has broken loose in the Ferrante household. There’s a choice to be made, and too little time to hesitate.

Warnings: time-typical misogyny, arranged marriage, mentions of forced marriage, mentions of killing, mentions of violence, mention of beatings, a bit of an age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s). This is set between season 1 and 2. English is not my first language.

A/N: nothing for now, but I left a note at the end of the chapter. I got quite sentimental and rambled a bit, so I decided that it would be best to leave it there.

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“According to tradition, they should get married at dawn, before word spreads,” Pietro paced around his father’s office, arms crossed, brain striving to find a solution to the predicament the family had found itself in. “But it’s too late for that.”

He snorted, wiping his face. The lack of sleep was starting to get to him. He hadn’t gone to bed after talking to Nina, he couldn’t imagine trying to sleep while the household threatened to collapse and implode. Moreover, he knew he would find his father awake as well, and he had been waiting for the chance to speak to him alone all evening. The meeting had been nothing but a mess. Everybody was too angry to think or act clearly, and they had accomplished nothing.

“Your uncle Mario has spoken against it,” his father shook his head. “And I can’t blame him. Shelby humiliated Agnese by…” he paused, grimacing. “Engaging with your sister. He wants him dead.”

“Uncle Mario has no head for business. We can’t afford to act out on revenge, not right now. If we listen to him, we’re fucked, you know it too.” Stopping in front of his father’s desk, Pietro rested with his left palm upon the wooden surface, slightly leaning in. “Imagine what would happen. We kill Shelby, we lose our ally against Sabini. And on top of that, we’ll have that mad brother of his seeking revenge,” he said, punctuating his speech with his finger.

“But if we give Nina to Stefano, we’ll seal our alliance with the Spinietta family.”

Pietro scoffed, raising his eyebrows. “The Spinietta family would betray us without a second thought, if that granted them the chance to rise, family or not. You forget Giuseppe Spinietta killed his own brother to take charge of the business. I wouldn’t be surprised if Stefano and Vito followed his example, someday.”

His father tapped his fingers on the desk, squinting his eyes. “So what do you suggest that we do?”

“We get Nina and Shelby married tomorrow, in secret,” he straightened his back. “During the night, or at dawn. Then we put them on the first boat to England.”

His father got up in an abrupt movement, taking a few steps away from his desk. He rubbed his mouth with his palm, pondering. “You want me to turn my back on my own brother?”

“It’s the only way.”

“He’ll never forgive me.”

“He will, when Shelby’s men help us in our war against Sabini.” Pietro crossed the room with long strides, until he was standing in front of him. “If uncle Antonio was here, he’d tell you the same thing.”

“But he’s not here, is he? And I don’t know how happy he’ll be when he finds out we made a decision without consulting him too.”

“Dad, this isn’t about us getting all along,” he said lowly. “This is about us averting a war we don’t need.”

The silence Pietro got in return told him he was finally getting through to him, and it spurred him to go on. He placed his hands on his father’s shoulders, looking him right in the eyes. “I can tell you’re not just worried about uncle Mario. You’re worried about Nina, about sending her away overnight. I am too. But right now, this is the best thing we can do for her. I don’t trust aunt Rita to stay quiet about what happened. If word spreads, she’s ruined.”

His father’s eyes traveled across his face as he took in his words, his expression indecipherable. At that point, Pietro could only hope they’d have the desired effect. Saying more was hazardous, and he had already pushed his luck by talking to him that way.

Long moments passed before his father nodded, more to himself than to him, a bitter smile making its way on his face. Then he affectionately patted him on the cheek. “One day, it’ll be you taking my place. I guess I should start letting you make decisions.”

Nina watched as the first rays of the sun filtered through the lace curtains, hues of amber and violet lightening the dark room. She hadn’t been able to sleep all night, tormented by thoughts of helplessness and guilt. What up until a few hours before had been nothing but a haze had finally taken shape in her mind, forcing her to face the mess she had made. Yet, there was still a missing piece, a doubt that nagged at her brain, a question she just couldn’t find an answer to.

How did it happen? Was there a turning point that had caused the unfolding of that unrelenting chain of events? Or was it a result of something so gradual she didn’t even notice it until it was too late?

Useless musings, she was aware of it. It had happened, no matter when, no matter how. Somewhere along the way, she grew to care for Tommy, and it made her reckless. It made her careless. So careless that she would leave her home, her family, everything she had ever known for the man who her cousin was supposed to marry. She felt like a terrible person for it. God, she was a terrible person. The vicious things she had said to Agnese that afternoon still haunted her. Agnese, who all her life had shown her nothing but kindness. She had ruined everything. For her cousin, for her family, for herself. And the worst thing was, despite the mess, despite the danger, and the risks, and the pain, - she did not regret it. She did not regret him. Because she had never felt more alive than she did with Tommy. When everything was dull and hopeless, he had lit a spark inside her, and that spark had bursted into a flame, and that flame had set her soul on fire. How could she ever regret something like that?

A soft knock on the door cut through her thoughts. Winston promptly raised his little head from his spot next to her, his yellow eyes snapping toward the source of the noise.

“Come in,” she said faintly, so faintly she suspected whoever had knocked couldn’t even hear her. But the door opened, revealing Pietro’s tall frame in the semi-darkness.

“I have just finished speaking to dad,” he said gravely, taking a few steps inside the room. He was still dressed as the previous night, and from the tired look on his face, Nina could tell he hadn’t closed an eye, just like her.

She anxiously scanned his features in search for a shift, a clue she could read to get her answer. But his expression was cold as stone. “And?” she enquired, fidgeting with her own fingers.

Pietro exhaled deeply through his nostrils, placing his hands on his hips. “He agreed,” he nodded, fixing his gaze on a point straight in front of him. “You’re marrying Shelby.” There was no inflection in his voice, nothing that could betray whatever emotion he might be feeling.

Nina’s breath caught in her throat. She blinked, letting his words hang in the air, afraid that it was only a trick or her own imagination, a counterfeit reflection of her hopes. “Are you serious?”

Her brother shifted his dark eyes on her, giving her a single nod. “Yes.”

Yes. Her father had said yes. A wave of relief washed over her, and she felt like she had been given back the air taken from her a few hours before. Tommy was safe. He’d be fine. They’d both be fine. She rubbed her eyes with her hand, holding back the sudden tears that had gathered. She hated feeling so emotional, so weak, but she couldn’t help it. And as the realisation sank in, something else came to the surface. Fear. Until that moment, marriage had been nothing more than a distant hypothesis, a possibility, a chance. Now it was awfully real, with all its implications, and risks, and consequences. Because it didn’t matter how strong her feelings for Tommy were, she had no certainties. She was jumping into the void not knowing where she’d land.

The mattress sank beside her, and a warm hand rested on her shoulder. “Chi fai, chianci?” Pietro taunted her, his tone softer, but still bearing a hint of reproach. (What are you doing, you’re crying?)

“No,” she sniffled, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Letting his hand fall, he leaned with his back against the wall, his shoulder brushing against hers. For a while, neither of them spoke. There wasn’t much to say. She had brought trouble upon the whole family, she knew that, he knew that. Nothing they could say could undo what she had done, no amount of anger and resentment could make them go back and change it. And Nina had already paid enough. The split lip their father’s heavy hand had left her with was proof of that.

It was Pietro who broke the silence. “If two months ago someone had told me you’d offer to marry a man just to save him I wouldn’t have believed them.”

Nina shook her head, the shadow of a smirk playing on her face. “Me neither.”

“You were supposed to do something more.”

Those words came like a stab. There was no malice in them, just pure, painful truth. A truth everyone around her had forced her to forswear, to lock away in a drawer as yet another hopeless dream. In her heart, she had always known she was meant for something more, that she would never be able to find her happiness in marriage and family, but the reality of things had hit her too hard way too many times.

Nina clenched her jaw, her mouth going dry. “I tried.”

“And you will try again,” Pietro murmured, like a statement of fact. “Because this is who you are.” A shadow of melancholy darkened his eyes. He let out a sigh, dropping his gaze to his hands. “I’m sorry I abandoned you after I came back from the war. I should’ve done more for you, I should’ve forced dad to see what I saw. Maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe-”

“You did enough,” she interrupted him, but there was no harshness in her voice. “Dad only sees what he wants to see.”

Their father was a stubborn man, and he had his own beliefs, beliefs he had already betrayed by allowing Nina way more than any other father allowed his daughter. Asking him more meant asking him the impossible.

“And…” she pondered her next words, playing with the hem of her nightgown. “This is not a sacrifice. Not completely, at least.”

She didn’t need to look at him to know that Pietro was scrutinising her, waiting for her to go on. For the bomb to drop.

“I care about Tommy,” she revealed. “I might not know what my life would’ve been like had things been different, or what my life will be like a year from now, but I know that I care about him. And that’s enough, for now.”

Her words sounded foreign to her own ears. She had never dared to say it out loud before, and yet there it went, coming out of her mouth as the simplest of truths. She felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Because finally she could admit it to herself. Tommy Shelby had bursted into her life and made her question everything she thought she knew. He had made her feel things she never thought she’d be able to feel for anyone, he had taught her to see him. To love him, without neither of them realising it. And now that she knew how it felt to see and be seen, she wasn’t sure she could just let it go.

When she glanced at Pietro, a small smile tugged at his lips. Her eyebrows knitted in a confused frown. She could swear he was disappointed in her up until a few minutes before. But again, what went through her brother’s mind would always be a mystery to her.

“You’ve always done as you pleased,” he said. “You wanted to finish school, you finished school. You didn’t want to marry Spinietta, you didn’t marry Spinietta. Now you have decided you want to be with Shelby. God knows what you’ll do when we won’t be there to keep an eye on you.”

Despite his attempt at a joke, his voice bore a sadness that pierced right through her, and that she immediately recognised as her own, too.

We won’t be there to keep an eye on you.

That would be the last day she spent at home, with her family. She wouldn’t wake up to her mother’s rants anymore, or to her brothers’ fighting. She wouldn’t sneak into her father’s office to read when she’d need some peace, or cover up Winston’s shenanigans to prevent her mum from throwing him out the house. There was no telling when they’d get to see each other again. She pursed her lips, forcing herself to smile. “I guess you’ll find out.”

“I hope so,” he whispered. He turner to look at her, and when he spoke again, his tone was deadly serious. “You can still do what you want to do. This doesn’t have to be the end.”

She hoped he was right. She desperately wanted to believe he was. But that was the kind of thing only time could tell. She nodded, her eyes travelling to her window. The sun was rising above the horizon.

“Pietro, I need to talk to Tommy.”

She felt him stiffen beside her.

“You’ll have plenty of time to talk after you’re married,” he said dryly.

“Please.“

He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright. But there are men watching, and they don’t know why Shelby’s confined there. They can’t see you. I can distract them, but you’ll have to be quick.”

Nina nodded frantically. “I’ll be quick,” she promised. “I just need a minute with him.”

“Fuck!”

Tommy’s voice resounded in the small room as he angrily kicked the door. He had been locked in there for hours, like a lion in a cage, waiting to be freed or put down. He had been brought to some kind of shack in the middle of the Sicilian fields, and left there to go insane. From the considerable number of pits he had caught a glimpse of before they pushed him inside, he could tell that was the place where the Ferrante family made people disappear.

Chances were, someone was digging a fresh one for him that very moment.

It was quite the exit, killed miles away from home, then thrown in a shallow grave where no one would ever look for him. All because he had fallen for the wrong woman. Again.

He sat on the edge of the small, uncomfortable bed, and dropped his head in his hands. That was not how it was supposed to go. Things had taken such an unpredictable turn in such a short span of time he could hardly believe it. Some part of him expected to wake up in his bed, in his house in Small Heath, and find out that all of that had been nothing more than a strange dream. He wondered when and how his family would receive the news. If they’d receive the news, or they’d be left to come to their own conclusions. If they’d grieve him, or only grieve the things he wouldn’t be get to give them anymore.

How foolish had been of him, to think he could have a chance at happiness. To think he could find someone whose mere presence seemed to heal the most wounded parts of his soul and keep them. Maybe what Campbell had said to him a few months before was true. Men like him weren’t meant to be loved.

The sound of keys hitting the lock startled him from his musings. His head snapped towards the door, heart racing. He was unarmed, but he could still fight. He was a soldier, for fuck’s sake. And a gangster. He had cheated death more times than he could count, what was one more?

He jumped to his feet, waiting. And it took him more than a moment to realise it wasn’t death who had come for him. It was Nina.

“Nina…”

Before he could say anything, she closed the door behind her and threw herself into his arms, holding him with a strength he had never imagined she could possess. He promptly wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose into her hair, her scent soothing his frayed nerves. She was there. She had come for him. He tightened his grip around her, scared that she was only a figment of his imagination, that she would slip away and disappear at any moment.

“Are you alright?” she asked, pulling away just enough to check. She cradled his face in her hands, frowning as she got a glimpse of the cut above his eyebrow.

“I’m fine, love,” he reassured her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, lowering her gaze. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”

Tommy’s heart clenched in his chest. “Hey, look at me,” he said hoarsely, running his fingers through her raven hair away to move it away from her face. He gently took ahold of her chin, his thumb ghosting over her split lip. “Look at me. I don’t regret anything. You hear me? No regrets. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Nina put her hand on his, then brought it to her lips to place a tender kiss on it. “We need to talk,” she murmured, and sent a quick glance towards the door. “But we need to be quick.”

Tommy swallowed hard, feeling the muscles in his back growing tense. He had to remind himself that yes, Nina was there, but that didn’t mean they were safe, not yet. “Go on.”

“The peace will stand. My father and Pietro are planning to make us get married in secret,” she explained, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Then they’ll send us away. By the time my uncle finds out, it’ll be too late.”

He nodded, taking in her words. He should’ve felt relieved - and he did, to some extent -, but there was a doubt, a fear that stung at the back of his mind like a thorn by his side. Was it what she wanted? He wanted it, he knew it, and he had told her more than once. But she had never expressed the same wish. Not openly, at least.

She must’ve noticed the way he had wavered, because something changed in her expression. “If…” she paused, uncertainty flashing across her face. “If that’s what you want.”

Tommy quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head. “Well, it’s marriage or death, eh?”

Nina inhaled deeply, averting her gaze.

“Nothing has changed for me, Nina,” he said softly. “I’m just worried that this might not be what you want.”

She jerked her head up, shooting him a disbelieving look. “What part of ‘I’m yours’ did you not get?” she reminded him of what she had said to him the previous morning.

Tommy couldn’t help the grin growing on his face, a warmth he only felt with her spreading in his chest. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss on her lips. God, he had been wanting to do that since she had walked through that door.

“Tommy, wait,” she stuttered, gently pushing him away.

He looked at her in confusion. What, now?

“There’s something I need to tell you before we go through with this,” she said, taking a step back. “I mean, it’s not like we have much choice at this point, but still...” She sighed, searching for the right words. “You… you need to know. I don’t want you to jump into-”

“Nina, just speak,” he said firmly, putting an end to her rant.

“I don’t want children,” she blurted out. “I mean, I don’t want them now. Maybe that will change, maybe it won’t. But there’s a chance it won’t change, and you need to know.”

Tommy blinked, a frown making its way on his face. That was what worried her that much? He already knew. She had never put it in those words, but from the things she had said to him in the past, he had imagined it. And it wasn’t that big of a deal, for him. “It’s alright. We can wait until you’re ready.”

“What if it’s never?”

“Then we won’t have them, we’ll be careful,” he assured her. He let out a sigh, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Nina I want you. Fuck the rest. I love you. You don’t have to say it back, but I want you to know.”

Something unreadable flashed across her eyes, and he wondered whether he had made a mistake, by telling her. But he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he had to say it, cause had been eating at him for days. And she needed to know that what they were about to do wasn’t for nothing.

A soft knock on the door interrupted them. Nina glanced behind her. “I need to go,” she whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips. A bitter disappointment filled his heart. He didn’t want her to go just yet. And a part of him had truly hoped she’d say it back to him.

When Nina walked away from him, she brought with her the warmth that had engulfed him, and he was left feeling almost cold, despite being in the middle of the summer. Before she walked out the door, she turned to face him, as if she had just remembered something. “Winston’s coming with us,” she stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

A throaty chuckle escaped his lips. “Yeah, Winston’s coming with us.”

She smiled in satisfaction, moving to walk out. Then she stopped again, turning to him one last time. “And Tommy?”

“What?”

“I love you too.”

Having placed the last of her bags in the hallway, Nina took one last look around her bedroom. It had been left almost completely untouched, she didn’t have the time nor the space to take all of her stuff with her. Her desk was still scattered with papers and notebooks, her favourite candle was still resting on the bedside table, her dresser was still full of books. Only her diaries had been safely packed in one of her suitcases. Her eyes trailed over all the things her grandmother had hand-painted for her when she was little: the little flowers on the closet, the bluebird on a corner above the door, the ivy on the side of the dresser. She couldn’t believe she was about to leave it all behind. The place that had watched her grow up, play, fight. The place that she had hated, cursed, that she had so desperately wanted to flee from. The place that would always have a part of her soul, despite everything.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to turn the light off and walk out the door. It was past midnight. It was almost time.

The door of Salvatore’s bedroom was open. They hadn’t talked since the previous night. He had been avoiding her on purpose, ignoring her questions, pretending not to see her, changing room whenever she walked in. She didn’t even know if he’d attend the wedding.

Gathering her courage, she peered into his room. He was facing the window, adding cufflinks to his pristine white shirt. From the way his back stiffened, she could tell he knew she was there, but he didn’t turn around, nor did he utter a single word.

After a moment of hesitation, she spoke. “Are you coming to the church?”

No answer.

She cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Is that a no, or…” she trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

Again, no answer.

“You’re still so angry with me you won’t even say goodbye?”

Salvatore’s movements came to a halt. He slightly turned his head, looking at her from the corner of his eye, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. For a moment, Nina thought her words might’ve gotten through him. But he didn’t face her. Instead, he walked over to a jacket laying on the chair in front of the desk, and started fumbling in one of the pockets. She frowned, watching as he took something she couldn’t see out of it. As he then approached her with slow steps, she couldn’t help but tense.

Salvatore had become unpredictable, over the past couple of years. He had always had a temper, but the war seemed to have taken it to the extreme, turning his anger into a dormant beast, ready to bite and devour at the slightest trigger. A part of her felt guilty for even thinking that he could ever do something to her. But she hadn’t forgotten the way he had tried to hit her the day before, and the spiteful look in his eyes as he dug his fingers in her arm.

However, there was nothing menacing in his demeanour when he stopped in front of her. He stood tall, proud as usual, but there was a hint of sorrow on his scarred face.

“I know you stole a knife from me a few years ago, and I know you always carry it with you,” he revealed, his lips curving in a grin. “But I thought you should have something more…”, he paused, searching for the right word. “…suitable.”

Nina immediately recognised the switchblade. She knew well the intricate design of its bone handle, the roses painted on it. The family knife. All the men of the family had it. Her father, her brothers, her uncles, her cousins. She carefully grabbed it, turning it in her hand. Its lightness was impressive. She flicked it open in one swift motion, pleased by how easy it was to handle. She read the incisions on the blade. Che la mia ferita sia mortale on one side (May my wound be lethal). Ferrante on the other.

“You don’t forget who you are,” he said, his tone grave. “In less than twenty-four hours you’ll have his surname, but you’ll always be a Ferrante.”

Nina closed the knife, raising her gaze on her brother. For a split second, she got a glimpse of the boy he used to be. The loud boy who bothered her, who pushed her around, who found many different ways to make her angry. And she could swear his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Suddenly, he pulled her to him in a harsh, tight hug, and at first she had no idea how to respond. Her family, including herself, had never been too physical, and they often felt awkward when it came to displaying affection. Yet, it didn’t take her long to warm up. She wrapped her arms around him, hiding her face in his shirt. They’d never gotten particularly along, they’d had a considerable number of fights and disagreements, but he was still her brother, and she would miss him. She would miss him so much.

He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Si ti tratta mali, iu vegnu e cci rumpu li gammi.” (If he hurts you, I’ll come break his legs.)

The small church smelled of incense, wood and stale beeswax. The pale, timid rays of dawn filtered though the stained glass, eerily falling on the crucifix statue at the rear of the altar. Christ’s tortured face was the only thing Nina could focus on as the priest’s voice reverberated through the stone walls. From where she was kneeling next to Tommy, he seemed to be staring right into her soul.

Her family was standing on the side, and by the looks on their faces, the function looked more like a funeral rather than a marriage. Her father’s expression was a mixture of pain and shame, her brothers were stoic, and as for her mother, she didn’t have the slightest intention to make an effort to hide her discontent. Maria had always wished for her daughter a beautiful wedding gown, a church full of flowers and candles, solemn music. Instead, she got nothing but a short, hurried ceremony. No readings, no elaborate vows. Just a quick ‘yes’, the bare minimum to fix her situation. Then she’d be gone.

Vincenzo Ferrante had taken care of everything. He had instructed the priest on what was to be done, and made sure the language barrier wouldn’t be a problem. Tommy would just have to express his consent. Then, after the ceremony, a car would bring them to the dock.

Nothing had gone as expected. And the Ferrante family could’ve never imagined that after Tommy Shelby’s arrival, they would never be the same.

As the priest spoke, Nina couldn’t make herself listen to him. The crushing weight of an unknown future was slowly descending on her shoulders, growing heavier with each second that passed, trapping her in its dark, icy grip. Fear had taken root inside her, and it was gradually draining her of every ounce of courage she had left, turning it into a poisonous lymph than ran through her veins, to her heart.

In all that darkness, she found herself praying. Praying that things would turn out fine. Praying that she hadn’t been a fool, by following her heart. Praying that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life. Never before had she so strongly hoped that there was a God listening. Lacking the blind faith of the believer, she didn’t often pray. Yet, right now it was the only thing she could do. But it wasn’t a Father she was turning to. No. She had always thought that if there was a God, it must’ve been a woman. No Father could love so unconditionally, no Father would ever die for his ungrateful children’s sins. It was the kind of sacrifice only a Mother would make. And the act of creation had never belonged to men. So she prayed that good, nurturing Goddess she desperately wanted to believe in to welcome her plea and protect her like a loving mother.

As if sensing her agitation, Tommy subtly brushed his pinky finger against hers. It’ll be alright, he seemed to say. That fleeting contact was enough to bring her back to her senses, but it hardly calmed her rising panic.

When the priest started to ask the questions, her heart began to race. Tommy shifted his gaze on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do the same. She was afraid that one look in her eyes would be enough for him to know what thoughts were poisoning her mind.

“Thomas Michael Shelby, vuoi accogliere Anna Ferrante come tua sposa nel Signore, promettendo di esserle fedele sempre, nella gioia e nel dolore…” (“Thomas Michael Shelby, do you take Anna Ferrante to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad…”)

She took a deep breath, trying to escape the fog gathering inside her head.

“Nella salute e nella malattia…” (“In sickness and in health…”)

Marriage. An unbreakable vow. An arrow that, once shot, could never be retreated.

“Di amarla e onorarla tutti i giorni della tua vita?” (“To love her and to honor her all the days of your life?”)

“Sì,” Tommy’s deep voice resounded through the high walls.

She froze, her fears finally gaining the upper hand. Was it what she truly wanted, or just what she thought she wanted? Was she doing the right thing? Would she regret her choice? Was she betraying herself?

“Nina,” Pietro hissed, snapping her out of that whirlwind of thoughts.

Without her even noticing, the priest had asked her the question, and was now waiting for her answer. Everybody was. She gulped, turning to look at Tommy, whose features were now full of apprehension. But she didn’t find the unknown that had scared her so much, in his blue eyes. She found the safety he had made her feel, the love he had shown her through every glance, every word, every touch. Slowly, she let her doubts drift away. She wasn’t scared because she didn’t trust him. She was scared because she had never thought of herself like someone who could be loved, and it felt foreign, and hard to believe.

The words her brother had said to her echoed in her mind. This doesn’t have to be the end.

She bit the inside of her cheek, gathering her courage. It was Tommy, just Tommy. He loved her. She loved him. She could still do the things she wanted to do.

So she said yes.

The land slowly faded into a dark silhouette as the ship sailed farther and farther away. Nina’s eyes strove to hold on to it, refusing to move until it became a black dot, and then disappeared into the distance.

Her heart felt astoundingly lighter.

She leaned against the railing, watching as the light reflected off the crystal water, sparks dancing across the blue expanse of the sea. She had ripped off her roots, mercilessly severing them one by one, and found herself surprised to acknowledge how easy leaving was once she had eradicated herself.

There was just one thing weighing her down. She would never forget the look in her father’s eyes when they said goodbye, or his silence when she asked him if would ever forgive her. In her heart, she knew he’d never be able to look at her the same. Although kept secret, the stain of shame had dried all over her name, and it could never be washed away.

Shame. That word had been following her like a shadow ever since she was a child. She became scared of it before she even knew what it meant. It hung over her head, carrying the terrifying promise of a wretched fate. A four-headed monster whose dreadful eyes watched her every step, waiting for her to fall.

It would have to wait a while longer. Because there were lots of things to be ashamed of, but love was not one of them.

She glanced at Tommy, standing next to her against the railing. Smartly dressed, with his peaky cap on and his gun poking out of his jacket, he looked just like the first time she saw him. She couldn’t notice it in the church, too overwhelmed by her own thoughts. He rubbed a cigarette between his lips, then placed it in his mouth, his gaze lost in thought. Like her, he was probably just processing everything that happened. She wished she could enter inside his mind, only for a moment, to know what was going through it. If, now that they had taken that step, there was any kind of regret taking shape inside it. But when he shifted his blue eyes on her and gave her a playful wink, her worries started to fade. His look was still as full of love as it was in the church.

“You’ve survived my family,” she said, lightly nudging him with her elbow. “Now it’s my turn.”

A wide grin grew on his face, which he concealed by lighting the cigarette. “I think you’ll fit in just fine,” he murmured.

Nina shook her head, her own lips curving in a smile. She wasn’t that scared anymore. The unknown opening in front of her felt more like a chance, rather than a threat, and she was ready to step into it. But there was still a needle digging into her brain, one it would take time for her to get rid of.

“Tommy,” she grabbed his attention, her tone dead serious.

He turned to look at her, his eyebrows twitching slightly as he waited for her to go on.

“I’m trusting you. Don’t make me regret it.”

A/N: We’ve come to the Epilogue of Part 1, and I still can’t believe that over the course of almost one year and a half it became what it became. I wanted to take a moment to thank all of you who have followed Nina’s journey up until now, and those who will continue to follow it in the next parts. To those who have left comments, and asks, and engaged constantly with it. I may often be late with my replies, but I can assure you I remember each one of you. The loved you have showed to this story has been so important for me. A special thanks also goes to my wonderful mutuals, who have joined this mess and shown endless support. And for those of you who will continue to read this, be ready, cause this is far from the ending. I’m so excited to move forward, and I hope you will be, too🤍

Heart, Body and Sould tag list

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

@look-at-the-soul @gathania93 @wonderlanddreamer @thelastemzy @meadows5

@mischievouslittlecreature @seedlings-stuff @misslittlegetou @strangeobsessed

General Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella

@caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark

@jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

@lunarubra @rangerelik

Tommy Shelby tag list

@50svibes @bellabarnes1378 @jbrownta

[ender1821]

shinyduo/gempearl post-SL is sooo funny because before SL they were the typical "friends who like to do pranks with and against each other, partners in crime, really adorable sometimes" and then SL happened and they became OBSESSED with each other (really obvious from pearl's side since gem was more subtle) and innuendos started to appear left and right. now after WL they are not only obsessed they are also 10x times freakier and flirty. it's gem's fault a lot of the time but pearl enables it and digs herself into a deeper hole so she gets a wack too.

i am pleading to the sky for the fated shiny duo alliance to happen this year because 1) i am sure gem's possessiveness would get multiplied by 20 even if she tried to not show it and that'd be really fun + pearl would like it 2) their dynamic is so complex that they could be anything (codependent or healthy or possessive or die for each other or kill for each other or-) and 3) the aftermath of them teaming would be funny asf and the streams would be horrendous

thank you for coming to my ted talk 🙏

the freakier being in bold and italic is really getting to me for some reason lmao. anyway

you are right in the shift of them pre and post-SL, like, they are STILL giving cute partners in crime but also they’re. so. abnormal about each other??? thats not to say they weren’t flirty/making innuendos before the life series but god did all of that get worse after. also, it has kinda been shown how Gem is the one saying most of the questionable things, but Pearl definitely contributes a lot as well. lets not forget the pickles

of course we’re all manifesting for them to properly team up. its not even subtle at this point they both know that. the only things stopping it from happening really are luck and Gem’s homophobia (/j) cough. i mean. they would definitely get time to resolve what they failed to address back in WL if they’re allied together and can have time to talk. it could also make things worse but we’ll be seated either way. and then we’ll be questioning our existence again when the streams inevitably come

BUT. imo the alliance i really want is them + any other player. yep. i want a third wheel. it can literally be any other player because i think having someone else to affect/witness their dynamic is always entertaining, allows for exploration of new potentially fun dynamics between Pearl/Gem and another player while still offering plenty of opportunity for them to be. weird (/aff), and generally just gives the team a new spin instead of just Murder Camel 2.0. like. i’ve put way too much thought into this so there’s a whole ramble under cut about some of the potential trios and why i think they could be cool for a new life series

Jimmy: originally my life series s6 team predictions was pearl/gem/jimmy </3 mainly out of wanting more pearl + jimmy interactions, but i think having gem there helps just keep the team together. i thought they would be a nice team for jimmy in terms of support (think the SL scene where jimmy finds out he’s not the first out and they’re the ones there cheering him on) but well. thankfully we still had bamboozlers… anyway gem’s ego will get even worse if she had this team, and don’t we all wanna see that

Lizzie: PLEASE. impossible minecraft sent me to the point of no return because now i’m BEGGING for more pearl/gem/lizzie interactions. please. the girlies. we just need more gem + lizzie interactions in the life series imo, and we’ve already seen what happens when pearl + lizzie are together. i can’t tell you for sure if i think any betrayal will happen in this team but it would be really funny if there was, mainly just so lizzie and gem can bicker while pearl is just. There like a sad puppy. it’s cool if there isn’t though, i can see them thriving straight to the finale. cmon. think of the yuri

Ren: hey. hey. remember that one ren stream? you know the one. the wedding. do you see where i’m getting at. do you see the dynamic. it’s so funny to me ok. and we haven’t even mentioned the times where ren has mixed them up. i think it would be a horrible time for him to have to deal with these two and that’s so entertaining. if i picked jimmy because i thought he would have a nice time then for ren it’s for the complete opposite reason. make him suffer with these weirdos

Martyn: HE is the one who’s going to make them suffer. HE will be the one to make it worse. and it will be hilarious. let the man get some form of revenge for them terrorising him back in SL. they’re going to be insufferable and it’s going to be great. you might as well start the “hump duo” counter now …also i may just have a personal preference of wanting to see more pearl + martyn and gem + martyn interactions

Cleo: i mean. cmon. this one doesn’t need that much explanation. the people want a pearl/gem/cleo team

Impulse: same as cleo— SOUP GROUP ASSEMBLE!!!

Etho: pearl + etho interactions are great. gem + etho interactions are great. boom. gem gets to bully them both, then they either make a really successful trap or perform the greatest fumble ever! i see nothing but wins here

BigB: nosy neighbours… what if we tried again… plus i’m pretty sure there was a temporary gem + bigb team in RL, so why not give them a whole season. i think it would be fun. it’d be interesting to see how this team shifts with bigb’s general play style in the life series. i wonder how the base(s?) would turn out

Mumbo: listen to me. they have the funniest opportunity here to fluster this man to the high heavens. think about SL ep 5. think about it

Scar: so like. remember that 2v1? yeah. crazy, right? no but okay i don’t think if they teamed up there would be that much more emphasis on the 2v1 after all that in WL, but there WOULD be good times. i know this deep in my heart. the pearl/gem/scar interactions would go crazy. i hope they go on a hunting spree

Joel: i think this one is the least likely (on account of the fact that pearl has teamed with him in SL, and then gem doing the same in WL) but there could be beautiful world where pearl and joel build an even bigger and better car and gem just watches and sighs

Scott: insert manic laughter here. Pearlescentmoon you are about to have the worst time of your life ever

[louisaland]

SVU Season 16-17 rewatch

Season 16 is really good as a way to get to know the characters if, like me, you stopped watching after Season 12 ended and weren’t sure if it was worth continuing with.

I am very glad I did!

Amaro is just Stabler 2.0, as far as I can tell, but with a little more self-awareness as he realises he needs anger management classes and realises he needs to get out of the force for his physical and mental well-being and that of his kids. 

Olivia was obviously very attached to him, so I felt bad for her as she just keeps losing people. Working with Amaro evidently helped her get over Elliot leaving, and it seems like her relationship with Amaro was healthier than the one she had with Elliot. 

Amaro’s been linked romantically to Amanda, I believe? They are very similar from their upbringing and the way they internalise everything, so I c1n see why they would be drawn to each other.

When the two of them are talking/working  together and Carisi comes to give them some info/an update and they simultaneously answer that he’s not interrupting was funny. 

There’s a courtroom scene where Amanda is being questioned/cross-examined and she is asked about doing the right thing/having enough emotional support/what it means to be a good person and she’s looking in Carisi’s general direction. Very subtle, but made me squee!

I love that he hangs out with her and Fin outside of work, at the video games convention. Fin is still calling him noob/newbie at this point, so perhaps Rollins invited him? Those two always know all the celebrity gossip and who the famous people they need to talk to are. It ties in nicely to their later hang outs where they watch trashy reality TV together. Carisi I can see reading all his sister’s magazines and going to the movies with them to watch rom-coms growing up, as he seems to know a lot about them/says he loves them in the ep with the former teen actress and the producer.

Do we ever get the story about how Sonny was saved by the priests at his Catholic church? He mentions it in the big vlogging/TV religious family episode. I always saw him as a good student. For example  he’d be top of the class but would always ask questions so the other shyer kids who might not have understood and didn’t dare to ask would understand. Or he would tutor them. He seems to work very hard and be very focused, so I think he would be a favourite of the teachers. 

We know he was bullied physically and probably verbally too ( by Bobby Bianchi, at the very least), maybe because he was a bit of a goody-two-shoes. I really can’t see him ever getting into trouble at school or at home. We know he wanted to be a priest, so maybe he just spent a lot of time at church events to escape the bullying/find some real friends.

I was so prepared to hate Mike Dodds but he is very humble, is a bit annoyed to be there because of his dad’s nepotism and he refuses to be a tattle-tale. He apologises when he oversteps his boundaries, listens to feedback and generally gets on with everyone on the team. If he hadn’t had a fiancée, I’m sure he would also have fallen in love with Olivia too! 

Olivia is a very good Lieutenant. I see a lot of Cragen in her, as he would often give the team one-on-one pep talks and always tried to do the right thing when it came to members not doing things by the book. 

Maybe it got lost in translation, or I just struggle to pay attention to and understand the courtroom scenes, but Barba apparently says “Booyah, Fordham Law!” as a comeback/closing argument in a Season 16 episode, but I have never seen it though this is my second time watching. 

He was funny too when Carisi gives his personal and legal opinion on something and Barba says “That’s just your opinion, but yes, it’s correct”. 

Barba also wears fun, brightly coloured socks which are visible when he puts his feet up on the desk. I thought that was a fun way to show that he’s got a soft/emotional/fun side. Maybe because I know how he behaves in later eps towards Olivia, but I definitely find him less cold/unlikeable than I did during my first viewing. 

Something I read about was that potentially the show was going to have Barba and Carisi become romantically involved. Apparently the actors and writers were on board, but the network head said no. 

This would have deprived us of Rollins and Carisi though, and that would have been a big loss. Maybe someone like Dodds could have been gay and had a fiancé, thus having an openly gay member of the team and maybe some tension with Dodds Sr there. However,  Fin’s son Ken gets a storyline in that vein, when he and his husband have a child. 

On the tu/vous ( informal and formal you form) thing, Carisi uses tu with Amanda when she is at the hospital. This may be because they are of the same rank, but it definitely shows a level of friendship/closeness. 

Olivia, on the other hand, uses vous with everyone! Even Dr Huang, who she runs into with Barba, and she’s not in the office. She uses vous with Dodds Jr, even though she outranks him! 

[lemony-snickers]

Hiya Lem! Sorry if I’m too late~but hows about 17 and Kakashi for the Spotify wrapped fic game! Or if ya got too many Kashi’s, maybe Yugao! ~or anyone you feel fits the song best~ ❤︎₊ ⊹ 

17. fire - louis the child ft. evalyn.

only one late here is me. <3 also, never too many kakashis i did both! sort of! .

lookin' up, starlight; take me there, i wanna fly

Kakashi’s back is hard against Yugao’s as they face the closing circle of enemies, his voice a barely discernable growl as he barks orders from behind his broken mask.  They are in the shit, and Yugao for the first time since taking her ANBU oath wonders if this may be the mission that prevents her from ever returning home.

She looks up, the pinpoints of stars dancing in her blurred vision overhead.  She doesn’t have time to contemplate the concussion, though, because Kakashi springs forward and she must do the same if she wants to survive, to protect her teammates.

The battle is protracted and bloody.  By the time Team Ro limps away, they are all battered and bruised.  Ko’s ankle is broken and he leans against Tenzo who used some of the last of his strength to create a wooden crutch to help distribute the weight.

Yugao looks ahead.  Their team leader is tense, Hound’s shoulders lifted almost to his ears.  Kakashi’s silver hair is stained red and brown – new and old blood mixing with the shimmering strands, matting it to his scalp in places.  She wonders how much is his, how much belongs to those he slayed, if any of it came from her own wounds.

In addition to an obvious head injury, she herself has sustained several lacerations and fears she may be bleeding internally, if the sickly grey bruise spreading over her abdomen is any indication.  She won’t be able to see a skilled enough medic until they are back in Konoha, and so she grits her teeth against the pain and follows her Captain.  When her eyes flutter closed a few short hours later, voices screaming her call sign, the faint beginning of panic bleeding into the edges of the syllables, the last thing she sees is the face of Hound blotting out the stars.

Yugao stares at Kakashi’s panicked half-face through his broken mask and tries to tell him it’s not his fault.  She always knew her life in the corps would end this way.

but i’m miles off the ground; i’m leavin’ this whole match city to burn

The hospital lights are blinding, the itchy blankets too cloying and hot when she wakes.  Yugao throws them away, but when she tries to stand, she wavers, suddenly dizzy; vision blurring in defiance of the too-bright lights.  Adrenaline, insistent and overwhelming, courses through her quicker than common sense.

A firm hand grasps one arm, holds her steady.  Her hearing is fuzzy at first, but then it clears like she’s coming up from underwater.  “Stand down, Uzuki-san.”

Her eyes slide over to find Kakashi, wearing Konoha’s standard jonin uniform.  It feels wrong to see him in the blue fatigues and flak vest.  She can’t even remember the last time she’s seen anyone on her team out of their ANBU uniform.  Sometimes it feels like they live more of their lives as their masked counterparts than as themselves.

Even though most of his face is covered, it still feels like an intrusion to see his right eye peaking out from over his mask.  She’s used to Hound, not Kakashi Hatake.

She tries to shrug out of his grip, but Kakashi’s fingers only dig in harder, forcing her down until she’s sitting on the bed again.  She curses, feeling the beginnings of another bruise.  When he releases her, Yugao massages the place where his hand had been.

“I don’t think the medics would take kindly to you injuring a patient.”

“If that patient would stay in bed resting, I wouldn’t have to.”

Yugao scoffs lightly, but knows better than to challenge him further.  Stories of Kakashi’s escapes from this very place are legendary and many.  She has personally witnessed him scrambling from the window of a higher floor room, the voice of the Head Medic screaming its way into Konoha in his wake as Kakash rips an IV line from between his fingers.

She heard they started putting the lines in his feet so it would be more difficult for him to pull them out without drawing attention from the guard in his room.

Still, she supposes she is in no position to question her commander—standard uniform or no.  Kakashi walks to the window and pushes it open.

“I expect you to report back as soon as you’re discharged,” is all he says before he disappears.

Yugao smirks.  She knows he wouldn’t be here unless he cared about her well-being, despite his best efforts to conceal any concern.  But every member of Team Ro has seen their Captain’s selflessness, the blows he takes so they won’t have to.  He can’t hide his true nature from any of them, no matter how hard he tries.

long nights, it’s a lifestyle; so good to the last drop

Yugao wonders if there is some innate biology that prepares someone to be a great leader.  Kakashi must have it, if so.  She is in awe, watching him bark out orders not only to their squadron but countless others in the gathered crowd.  Everyone listens.  Everyone.

There is not a single person within hearing distance who does not sense he is the best person to direct the recovery efforts.  Even if it’s outside the scope of Team Ro’s mission.  Even if he is a foreign shinobi – none of that matters.

He oozes confidence; competence.  His voice is clear, steady, and sharp; it makes people believe in him.  It is why Yugao has always found it so easy to follow him into battle, even when the odds are precariously stacked in the enemy’s favor.  Her chest flares with warmth for her Captain, for her luck in being assigned to his team.

By the time the dust clears, she knows the number of survivors would be more than half what it is had Kakashi not been here to direct the rescue teams.

She watches as he wanders off by himself, settles against a cold rock to open a rations pack and eat in solitude.  She doesn’t approach him; knows how important the decompression space is after an emotionally tumultuous effort.  She and Tenzo find themselves a place to sit together and do the same, talking quietly about the mission; everything that went wrong and how eager they are to return to Konoha.  To take a hot bath and sleep in their own beds, no matter how uncomfortable their old mattresses are.

When she sneaks a glance back over at Kakashi, she sees he’s sitting with his head tilted back against the stone behind him.  From the steady rise and fall of his chest, she thinks he might finally be catching a few precious moments of sleep.

Good, she thinks.  He rarely truly rests during their team assignments, and she can see the toll it takes, even without seeing his face.

“Something I can help you with, Leopard?”

Yugao stiffens, not expecting his voice.

“No, sir,” she says, clearing her throat, “Just wondering what our next orders are.”  She ignores Tenzo’s teasing glance, the soft huff of his breath as he allows a half-chuckle escape his mouth.

She’ll get him back for that later—as if he wasn’t staring at Kakashi, too.  Though, she thinks, Tenzo’s reasons are very different from her own.

“We’ll move out in ten,” Kakashi says, standing, “so best finish your rations.”

Yugao nods quickly, stuffing the rest of the bar in her mouth before chasing it with a gulp of water from a canteen offered by Tenzo.  She watches Kakashi’s back the entire way to Konoha, as she so often does, still wondering how he had known she was watching.  Another enigmatic piece of her Captain’s puzzle—one she will likely never slot into place.  No matter how many missions she runs with him, she does not think she’ll ever find enough pieces to construct a clear picture.

i'll watch it go down; ‘cause that sun gonna take me with it

Yugao can’t move.  She feels as if she’s been buried beneath a ton of rocks, each one heavier than the last.  Her face itches, eyes tearing no matter how hard she tries to stave off the sadness.  The skin around them is red and raw, her lips chapped.

Hayate is gone.  And she cannot bear it.  Doesn’t want to.

Without him, she sees little reason to move.  To eat or breathe or live.

Weak, her mind whispers, you are so weak.

There have been countless knocks at her apartment door, calls from friends and comrades asking to be let inside.  They have food, they have flowers, they are checking on her.

Yugao doesn’t care.  She wants nothing to do with any of it.

When she hears her bedroom window slide open, Yugao thinks maybe the enemy who killed Hayate has come for her, too.  She closes her eyes, grateful for the opportunity to join him in the afterlife, for an end to this awful suffering.

“Get up.”

Her eyes snap open and there is Kakashi Hatake, staring down at her with one cool grey eye.

Her lip trembles, embarrassment lighting her nerves.  She covers her face with her arms, an awful sob barreling from her mouth before she has the sense to stop it, to shove it down the way a good soldier should be able to.

Not him.  Not her Captain.  It doesn’t matter that Hound has not led Team Ro for years, Yugao still looks up to him.  Still marvels at the grace with which he can adapt to any weapon, the efficacy with which he can devise a battle plan in any scenario.

Even the way he has taken three unruly genin under his wing, though rumor has it he is perhaps not as adept at leading children as he was Black Ops operatives.

Yugao’s crying seems to never end, ceaseless rivers of tears streaming from her eyes, lungs jolting until she hiccups pathetically.

She hears Kakashi sigh and assumes he will leave, that she is too pathetic and weak for him to help her.

Instead, she feels the mattress dip when he sits down a few minutes later, allows him to pry her arms away from her face as he lays a cool, damp towel over her eyes and forehead.

It feels nice, and her hiccups lessen and then eventually quiet, though a few errant tears continue to leak from the corners of her eyes no matter how hard she tries to staunch the flow.

“It never goes away,” Kakashi says quietly.

Yugao peels the washcloth off and looks at him, but his gaze is trained elsewhere, far across the room.  Across time, she thinks, looking at something she will never see.

“You will carry him with you for the rest of your life, and it will be a burden.”

She tries to protest—Hayate could never be a burden to her—but Kakashi holds up his hand, fingers twisted into the mission signal for silence, and she is still good, she finds, at following orders.

When Kakashi turns to look at her, Yugao gasps.  Because the fabric beneath his sharingan is damp with tears.  His other eye bores into hers, intense and clear.  “It will also be the greatest honor to keep him in your memory, and that is why you will get out of this bed and continue on.”

It doesn’t happen right away.  Not that afternoon, or the next.  But Kakashi keeps visiting, keeps prying her window open and handing her bowls of broth and eventually, Yugao pulls herself out from beneath her blankets and she returns to the world; heart heavier, but her purpose clearer than it has ever been.

i'm building a fire, fire, oh; i'm buildin’ it higher, higher, oh

This is something she can do.  A way to avenge Hayate, to protect her home.  To carry him with her and use the grief to make something better.

Cutting down Sound shinobi as they rampage through the streets of Konoha has suddenly become Yugao’s favorite thing in the world.  She pours all the anger and love she ever felt for Hayate into each swing, as if every enemy she sees is the one who made that killing stroke.  She is grateful for all he taught her, the strength she has now because of him.

She throws herself in front of a civilian, holds her armored forearm up to stop an enemy nin’s axe in its bid for flesh.  The armor bends, cracking beneath the force, the edge of the blade biting into her skin.

Yugao only smirks.  No wound can hurt as much as the one in her chest, the vacancy where Hayate should still be and isn’t.

Behind her mask, she grins.  And when her enemy falls to her feet, throat opened like a smile, Yugao wonders if her Captain would be proud of the soldier she has become.

If Kakashi knows how much she learned from him.

Whether Hayate is watching her from somewhere far away, complaining under his breath about her sloppy footwork as she sidesteps one attack and parries another.

She hopes so.

There will be time for such questions later.  For now, she has more important things to attend to.  Because, though she knows she may one day find herself in a battle she cannot win, she also knows that today, battling for her village in its heart—her teammates scattered around her doing the same—is not a fight she will allows herself to lose.

and if i go down in flames; the smoke gonna spell my name

[cherryvinyl-777]

I Like Me Better When I’m With You

Part 1

Ellie Williams x Reader

Summary: To get back at her ex girlfriend, your enemy Ellie Williams proposes an offer to you.

Warnings: none, enjoy! xo

Based on the book/move series To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

“Come on, you’re my only option!”

God, how did you end up here? Sitting outside your university with Ellie Williams, the girl you’ve hated since primary school. No, that wasn’t a joke. As if ending up at the same high school in your small town wasn’t bad enough, you had both got accepted into the same damn university.

You stare at the tall auburn haired girl incredulously. “You have to be kidding.”

She sighs frustratedly as if she wasn’t the one asking you to pretend to be her date.

“I’m dead serious, okay? I just…I need something to make my ex jealous, and you’re perfect,” Ellie states, tapping the wooden table with her pointer finger.

You rub your temple, looking around the courtyard if only to reconnect with reality for a second. Ellie notices your hesitation and tries for a grin.

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it before,” She smirks, her foot now tapping on the pavement of the courtyard.

The thought practically makes you gag as you say, “As a matter of fact, I really haven’t. And anyways, what would I even get out of this little…scam?”

Ellie seems to ponder for a moment before she comes up with her answer, “Free rides to school. I’ve seen your driving, and uh…yeah,” She chuckles, glancing at you, “and…you’d even get invited to parties.”

You shoot her a glare, rolling your eyes a little too aggressively, “You’re all the same. Maybe I don’t want to get invited to parties, ever think of that?” You scoff.

Ellie gives you an apprehensive look and you just throw a fry at her face, making her laugh and proceed to eat the fry off the table.

“I’m gonna need an answer, L/N” Ellie urges, her hands interlocked together.

With a long sigh, you finally nod, causing Ellie to pump her fist.

“First rule, never do that again,” You state, pulling out a pencil and paper. Ellie stares at you, looking dumbfounded.

“You’re serious? You’re making rules?” She lets out an exaggerated sigh, holding her head in her hands.

You start writing the title of the list, “Fake Dating Rules”, causing Ellie to groan. You ignore her efforts to derail you and start listing.

“Okay…number one, no fist pumps,” You scribble down.

Ellie scoffs lightly at that, but stays silent after to watch you write.

“Rule two, absolutely no kissing,” You say matter of factly, barely even considering the fact that nobody would believe you were in a relationship with Ellie if you didn’t kiss her.

“What? Very funny, give me that,” Ellie snatches the paper from you, writing a rule of her own.

“Limit to…3 rules per person,” She scribbles down in the most god awful handwriting you’d ever seen in your life.

You can’t help but grin a little, “You just wasted one of yours.”

“Damn it,” Ellie whispers, causing you to roll your eyes.

After a half hour of bickering over what should be on the rule list and what could be left out, you had finally come to an agreement.

FAKE DATING RULES:

1. No fist pumps

2. No kissing

3. Limit to three rules per person

4. If fake relationship goes on longer than anticipated, must go on ski trip together

5. Ellie must watch ‘But I’m A Cheerleader’ with me

6. Y/N must watch ‘Love Lies Bleeding’ with me

You both take a moment to admire the completed list before Ellie interrupted.

“I think we should add one more rule,” She states, looking at you seriously.

You lean in a little, curious to see what this ‘final rule’ would be.

“You can’t fall in love with me, L/N.”

That earns her another french fry to the face before you look at her seriously as well, mocking her expression.

“That’s not gonna be a problem,” You counter, eating one of your french fries. Ellie just grins idiotically.

“We’ll see.”

an: had the best time writing this, felt so excited to get started on a fic like this after finishing s2 of xo kitty. based on the poll results, it looked like you guys wanted something like this, so i hope it’s what you had in mind! lots of kisses and ty for reading! <3

[scary-friend]

My mom has NPD, and I have NPD.

When my mom was a kid her mother was incredibly distant and didn’t want her to get attached to her.

Why?

Because she had breast cancer, any day she could be gone and she never got close to my mom as a result.

She insisted my mom always had to look perfect, never allowed to leave without makeup, she never comforted my mom when she was sick/very hurt, and you wanna know something? None of this was told to me by my mom. This is all coming from things my dad has told me.

When my mom brings up stories of her mother she’s always smiling and reminiscing about the women who raised her. She laughs about times she was hurt and her mom brushes it off because it’s just how it was. It made her tough and she loved her mom so much.

Her mom passed when she was 21. And after that she had a rather complicated life with relationships.

I don’t believe anything my dad told me about my grandma I never met. He never met her. And frankly, I don’t think he has the best intentions when he tells me those things.

Often when people talk about being raised by narcissists, they always talk about their trauma with abusive parents. But often it’s unlikely that the parents are even narcissist to begin with. They just use it as a label for bad people.

My mom’s not perfect, growing up she ignored me a lot because she’s just following with her mom would do. She just focused on herself. And it did hurt because I wanted my mom to love me as much as I loved her. Growing up now, I think my mom just doesn’t know how to take care of kids. Her household wasn’t perfect either growing up. It was very messy. Over time as I grew older It’s like she finally learned to let me in. As though before she was afraid that I would get too attached and then she wouldn’t be here anymore.

I love my Mom so much, she has problems managing her anger, but she always lets go. She apologizes without words. She buys me my favorite snacks or gets me trinkets I love. And for the first time in years, she started saying “I love you” back when I would say it.

Stuff like that is just hard for her because it’s not something she grew up with. My mom is the way she is because of how her parents raised her. she was distant when I was young because that’s what was normal. But now that I’m an adult, my mom hugs me, she checks on me to make sure I’m okay, she wants me to be comfortable in my skin, she makes it clear that she just wants me to be happy.

I’m just so tired of people using NPD as a scapegoat to call people terrible. Because my mom has made mistakes, but those mistakes don’t make her a bad person.

There’s a reason I chose my mom over my dad, and that’s because my mom loves me, would choose my happiness in a heartbeat.

My dad made it clear who he cares about more, but he still acts like my mom is the problem. She’s not manipulating me, she just knows how I am and that I can’t handle being alone. My mom knew for a long time that I probably wouldn’t be able to be independent, and that I’d need to be with her for most of my life. And she didn’t care. She’s made her life the way it is to care for me.

My dad just wants me to be a copy of my sister, and gets frustrated when I’m not.

My mom isn’t some monster manipulating me into being helpless dad.

I have chronic fatigue and pain that makes it so I can’t function well without help. Mom is taking care of me because she wants what’s best for me.

Stop saying she’s “broken.”

Because if her NPD makes her “broken,” then so am I.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go give my mom a hug.

[magical-reid]

In the Shadow of a Trickster

Pairing: Stiles/ Void!Stiles x reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: When the Nogitsune possesses Stiles’ body and uses his hidden feelings for the reader to manipulate her, the pack must convince her of the supernatural world and her role in stopping the trickster. After helping to defeat the Nogitsune, the reader and Stiles work through the aftermath, rebuilding trust and turning his long-held crush into a genuine, heartfelt relationship.

Stiles’ POV

The worst part about losing control of your own body isn’t the fear, though that’s definitely there, gnawing at the edges of your mind like a rabid dog.

It’s the helplessness. The way you’re forced to sit in the passenger seat of your own life while someone else—something else—takes the wheel.

And when that something decides to spend its time being everything you’ve ever wanted to be for the girl you can’t stop thinking about? That’s a special kind of torture.

I could see everything the Nogitsune did. I could feel it, too, like I was a puppet being yanked around on invisible strings. When he smiled at her, it was my face she saw. When he opened the door for her or brushed his fingers against hers, it was my hands doing it. When she leaned into him on the couch, trusting and warm and so perfectly hers, I felt the weight of her against me like it was some kind of cruel joke.

But it wasn’t me.

It wasn’t me leaning in to kiss her forehead as she laughed at something stupid on the TV. It wasn’t me running my fingers through her hair or pulling her closer during a quiet moment in the movie. It wasn’t me whispering little compliments that made her blush and smile like I was her whole world.

And yet, it was my voice saying those things. My lips pressing to her temple. My heart pounding as if it was my own reaction.

I’d wanted this for so long. Years, maybe. I’d imagined what it would be like to finally tell her how I felt, to pull her close and hold her the way he was doing now. But I never thought it would happen like this.

I’d always been too afraid. Too awkward, too unsure of myself. I thought there was no way she’d ever see me as anything more than her weird, slightly neurotic best friend.

But now, here she was, thinking it was me. Thinking I’d finally gotten over my insecurities and stepped up to be the guy she deserved.

And the way she smiled at him—at me—like I’d somehow become everything she’d ever wanted… God, it hurt.

It hurt because it wasn’t real.

Not for me, anyway. For her, it was everything she’d probably dreamed about. She had no idea that the man she thought was falling for her wasn’t a man at all. Just a parasite wearing my skin and weaponizing my feelings against me.

But how could I blame her? How could I be angry at her when all she saw was me? The confidence, the charm, the easy affection—that was what she thought I was capable of if I’d just let myself try.

I could almost hear the Nogitsune laughing inside my head, relishing in my misery. He wasn’t just doing this to her; he was doing it to me. He was rubbing my nose in all the things I’d never had the courage to do myself.

And I couldn’t stop him.

All I could do was sit there in the back of my own mind, helpless, and watch as the Nogitsune did all the things I’d spent years dreaming about but never thought I could have. Watch as he curled his arm around her shoulders on the couch, his fingers lazily tracing circles on her arm while she leaned into him like he was the safest place in the world.

I’d spent my entire life wanting to be that for her. And now, the thing inside me was using her to destroy me.

And it was working.

Reader’s POV

I’d always known there was more to Stiles Stilinski than he let on.

Beneath all the rambling, the awkward hand gestures, and the nervous humor, there was someone… different. Someone thoughtful, protective, and incredibly sweet. I’d seen glimpses of that side of him over the years, but I never thought he’d actually let me see all of it.

Until now.

I didn’t know what had changed, but something had shifted between us recently. He wasn’t just the same dorky Stiles I’d always known. He was more. Confident. Smooth. Almost… magnetic.

At first, I’d been a little surprised. Stiles had always been sweet, but he’d never been the type to hold my hand without overthinking it or press a kiss to my forehead like it was second nature. But lately, he’d been doing those things without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And I couldn’t lie—it was nice.

It was more than nice.

It was everything I’d been too scared to admit I wanted from him.

Tonight, he’d shown up at my door with takeout from my favorite Thai place, flashing that grin that made my stomach flip. “Thought we could do a movie night,” he’d said, holding up the bag. “Your pick.”

“Did you steal my dream boyfriend checklist or something?” I teased, stepping aside to let him in.

He chuckled, the sound deeper and smoother than I remembered. “Just trying to keep you happy.”

And he did. God, he did.

We settled on the couch, his arm sliding around me like it belonged there. He was warm and steady, his fingers lightly tracing my arm as we watched the movie. Every so often, he’d lean in and say something just loud enough for me to hear, his breath brushing against my ear.

I wasn’t sure what had changed to make him act this way, but I wasn’t going to question it.

Stiles Stilinski had finally stepped out of his own way, and I was falling for him faster than I could stop myself.

Reader’s POV

“You’re joking, right?”

The diner felt too bright, too loud, even though it was mostly empty. My hands were wrapped tightly around my coffee cup, its heat grounding me as I stared at Scott, Lydia, and Kira in disbelief.

Scott shook his head, his expression earnest. “I wish we were. But everything we’re telling you is the truth.”

“That’s… insane.” I leaned back in the booth, my heart pounding. “You’re saying Stiles isn’t Stiles because he’s been taken over by some… spirit?”

“A Nogitsune,” Lydia said matter-of-factly. She was calm, but her eyes betrayed the worry she was trying to hide.

I glanced at Kira, hoping for some kind of explanation that would make this all make sense. Instead, she nodded solemnly.

“And all of you know about this? About… supernatural stuff?” I gestured vaguely at them.

“Yes,” Scott said, his voice soft but firm. “This isn’t just about Stiles. It’s about the whole town. There’s been werewolves, banshees, kitsune—things you wouldn’t believe if you didn’t see them yourself.”

I stared at him, trying to process his words, but they felt like they were bouncing off some mental wall I’d built to protect myself from losing my mind.

“And you’re saying the Stiles I’ve been…” My throat tightened as I struggled to find the right words. “The one I’ve been spending all this time with isn’t really him?”

“It’s his body,” Lydia said carefully, her voice gentler now. “But it’s not his mind. Not his heart.”

“Then why does he…” I swallowed hard, the words feeling too raw to say aloud. “Why does he act like he… cares about me?”

The three of them exchanged a glance, and I felt a flicker of unease.

“That’s the thing,” Scott said, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. “The Nogitsune is using Stiles’ feelings for you. It knows how he feels, and it’s manipulating you both. That’s what it does. It feeds off pain, chaos, and destruction.”

The air left my lungs in a rush. “You’re saying… Stiles—real Stiles—has feelings for me?”

“Yes,” Lydia said, her voice firm and certain.

“And the Nogitsune knows that,” Scott added. “That’s why it’s been so… attentive. It’s pretending to be everything Stiles has always wanted to be for you, because it knows it’ll hurt him.”

I shook my head, my mind spinning. “This is… insane. I can’t—”

“We’re telling you this because we need your help,” Lydia interrupted. Her eyes locked onto mine, steady and unyielding. “We can’t stop the Nogitsune without you.”

“Why me?” My voice cracked.

“Because he—it—has a soft spot for you,” Kira said. “It won’t see you as a threat. You’re the only one who can get close enough to distract it while we set the trap.”

“You want me to be bait?”

“No,” Scott said quickly. “We’ll be right there with you. We just need you to keep it focused long enough for us to contain it. You won’t be in danger. I promise.”

I wanted to scream, to laugh, to cry. None of this felt real. Stiles couldn’t be… possessed by some ancient spirit. Supernatural creatures couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be my life.

But then I thought about the way he’d been acting lately. The confidence, the ease, the way he seemed to know exactly how to pull me in. It had felt too good to be true because it was.

And if there was even a chance they were right… if Stiles was still in there somewhere, trapped and helpless, how could I say no?

“Okay,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll help.”

Stiles’ POV

It felt like drowning.

I could see everything, feel everything, but I couldn’t do anything. I was trapped, watching as the Nogitsune paced back and forth in the school gym, a smug smirk on my face—on his face.

Then she walked in.

“(Y/N),” the Nogitsune said smoothly, his voice dripping with false warmth. My voice. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She hesitated at the door, her arms crossed over her chest. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes darted around the room, but she stepped closer anyway.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said, her voice steady despite the obvious fear in her eyes. “You’ve been… different lately.”

The Nogitsune laughed, tilting my head to the side as he looked at her. “Different? How so?”

“You know how,” she said softly. “You’ve been confident. Sure of yourself. Sweet. But it doesn’t feel real.”

For the first time, the Nogitsune faltered.

“It’s like you’re trying to be someone you’re not,” she continued, taking another cautious step forward. “The Stiles I know isn’t like that. And that’s okay. I like him the way he is.”

Something inside me cracked.

The Nogitsune’s smirk slipped, and for a moment, I felt the faintest flicker of control, like her words were enough to shake his hold on me. But it wasn’t enough.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said sharply, stepping closer to her. “This is who I am. This is who I’ve always been.”

“Then why does it feel like a lie?” she asked, her voice trembling but resolute.

Before he could respond, the trap sprung.

Scott and Kira charged out of the shadows, Kira’s sword glowing with electricity as she slashed at the Nogitsune. He roared, spinning to face them, but before he could attack, Lydia’s banshee scream filled the gym, stunning him just long enough for Scott to pin him down.

I felt the Nogitsune’s grip on me waver, and suddenly, I was there again—really there—my mind my own for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“(Y/N)!” I gasped, my voice hoarse.

She ran to me, her hands grabbing mine as Scott and Kira finished binding the Nogitsune.

“It’s me,” I whispered, my eyes desperate as I looked at her. “It’s really me.”

For a moment, she just stared at me, her eyes filled with tears. Then she threw her arms around me, holding me so tightly I thought I might break.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself breathe.

Reader’s POV

It had been two weeks since the Nogitsune was defeated, and Stiles still hadn’t quite met my eyes.

We sat in my living room, the air between us thick with everything we hadn’t said yet.

“Stiles,” I said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked up at me, his expression full of guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “For what it did. For everything it made you think.”

“It wasn’t you,” I said firmly. “I know that now.”

“But it was me,” he insisted. “It used my feelings for you, and now you probably think I’m some pathetic—”

“I don’t,” I interrupted, reaching for his hand. He froze, his eyes wide as he looked at me. “I don’t think you’re pathetic, Stiles. I think you’re brave. And kind. And… everything I’ve been looking for.”

His breath hitched. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

The silence stretched between us, and then, slowly, he smiled—a real, unguarded smile that made my heart skip a beat.

“Okay,” he said, his voice soft. “Maybe we could… start over?”

I smiled back. “I’d like that.”

And this time, it was real.

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 8

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

I was now walking down a dark street toward my apartment, thinking about Lucy. For a few moments, the power dynamic between us had shifted. She’d asked me to stay. She  wanted  me to stay, saying I was doing "rather good work" (giving me a compliment must have been like pulling teeth for her), and because she didn’t want to change contractors now that the project was well underway. She’d even apologized, in her own way—this woman of authority, lowering her guard and acknowledging she’d been in the wrong. She’d had a rough day after that disastrous evening and hadn’t been fair to me. Those were her words.

I’d seen the worry in her eyes when she thought I might leave. And I’d stayed. I wanted to see where this would lead. She irritated me, got under my skin, even exasperated me. Yet I was drawn to her, irresistibly. In those moments when our eyes had met, we’d challenged each other. I was going to stay, to test her limits, to finally play the game my way—and, of course, to finish this major project, crucial for our young firm. I’d come close to walking away minutes before, but I’d managed to reach Lucy. I smiled to myself.

---

 Hello, Lucy, 

 Is tonight’s meeting still on? I have three rugs to show you. 

 Best, Ona 

---

A month had passed since the incident. I’d seen Lucy briefly at the project site once or twice a week. She was buried in preparing the annual municipal budget and had a mountain of work. Our meetings had gone smoothly, though she kept a certain professional distance. One change, however: she’d asked me to call her Lucy, no more "Madame Bronze." 

I was in my office working on a new project when Alexia called out from her desk, munching on a cookie.

"It's terrible being pregnant. My new obsession is white chocolate chip cookies! I’ll end up weighing 100 kilos!”

Indeed, approaching her fifth month, she had a noticeable bump.

"And knowing you, it could’ve been worse—like Cuba Libres," I teased.

"Or Mojitos!" We laughed heartily.

Speaking of mojitos—the dragon herself had just emailed me. I refocused on my screen.

---

 Hello, Ona, 

 Yes, tonight’s meeting is still on. The municipal council session is over, so I’ll have more time. See you tonight. 

 Lucy 

---

When I arrived at the site, the workers helped me bring the rugs into the living room. I still favored the gorgeous Persian one. Two months into the project, significant progress had been made. Most of the flooring was installed, including redoing some in the infamous office. The walls were largely finished, and the workers were now focused on the grand Italian-style bathroom. This house truly had charm.

“Hello, Ona!” Lucy’s voice surprised me.

“Hello, Lucy!”

She looked tired, her features drawn. I showed her the three rugs, awaiting her verdict.

“I really like this one,” she said, pointing to the ochre rug.

“This one, no,” she added, indicating the gray one. “As for this last one… I’m not sure what to think. I can’t decide if it’s completely outdated or stunning.”

I smiled. She must like it but found it hard to admit I’d been right.

“You know what I think…”

“Tell me what you think, Ona…” She looked at me with those piercing blue eyes. We were finally reconnecting.

“Well, the Persian contrasts with the room’s tone, which is why, in my humble opinion, it’s stunning.”

“Can I keep them here for a short while? I’m going antique hunting in Brittany next week—maybe I’ll have an epiphany!” she said, smiling.

“Who knows? That works for these two rugs. As for the coffee table, I have some ideas in this booklet…”

She interrupted me.

“Let’s discuss this over a coffee. I owe you a drink for last time!”

Unexpected… and intriguing. We headed to the café from before.

By the time we were on our second drink, after discussing coffee tables, sideboards, and chairs, she sighed.

“All right, let’s stop talking about the project. I finished council meetings at 3 a.m. yesterday—I’m exhausted!”

So that explained the tired look that did nothing to diminish her beauty.

“All right, you’re the boss!” I said with a smile. Then, “So, going to Brittany on holiday?”

“Yes, for a week at my vacation home, to recharge after these intense weeks. I hope you won’t miss me too much,” she teased.

“Or, maybe, the opposite—a week of peace. Relieved?” I teased back, meeting her gaze.

“I’ll let you know next week when I send you daily updates on how much I miss you.” I could see my words had unsettled her. Ona: 1, Lucy: 0. She smiled, slightly flustered, then changed the subject.

“And you, any vacation plans?”

“No, not this year—way too much work,” I said, making a mock disappointed face that amused Lucy.

With the third drink, the usual barriers, her cool demeanor, were slowly crumbling. We laughed, and for the first time since the night of the incident, there was a genuine camaraderie. Her warmth surprised me; she could be witty, even charming. I found out she was quite well-traveled, like me, so we shared stories.

My phone pulled me from our conversation. It was Alessia, waiting impatiently for me, now for almost an hour. I checked the time—10:30 p.m. We’d been at the café for two hours, though it felt like ten minutes. Lucy noticed my distraction.

“Your girlfriend waiting?” she asked.

“Something like that. I lost track of time.”

“Me too…”

Our eyes lingered, brightened by a little too much alcohol. There was a spark between us. Reluctantly, I got up to leave. As I was about to shake her hand, she took it, pulled me closer, and gave me a kiss on each cheek. I felt warmth spread through me; my cheeks flushed.

“Ona, let’s skip the handshakes, all right? And don’t forget those emails next week.”

She winked. Now, it was my turn to be thrown off. Ona 1, Lucy 

[buckysouvenir]

between the lines (chapter 3)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader.

warnings: none.

word count: 933 words.

author’s note: hey guys! officially started the tags so if anyone else wants to get tagged so they can be notified when there’s a new chapter, just ask me! also the chapter are almost 1k words and i keep feeling like they are so short 😔 i love long chapters so tell me if you like the way it’s going or want longer chapters!

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

bucky barnes masterlist⠀ |⠀ series masterlist⠀ |⠀ last chapter⠀ |⠀ next chapter

It was another quiet evening at S.H.I.E.L.D., and Y/N was ready to kick back and relax. Her friends were already preparing for Movie Night in the lounge, something they did every week to unwind from the chaos of work. They’d pick a cheesy action flick or an old classic, and for a couple of hours, the world outside didn’t matter.

She grabbed a bag of snacks from the desk in her room, checked the time, and headed toward the lounge, trying not to be too distracted. But it was hard not to think about Bucky. It wasn’t intentional, it just happened. Every time she crossed paths with him, something in her chest fluttered. And it wasn’t just the awkwardness of their accidental collisions that left her rattled. No, it was the way his smile lingered longer than she expected, the way his eyes didn’t look away so quickly. It was the quiet moments between them that made her feel like there was more than just a casual acquaintance.

But tonight, she had to focus on movie night. It would be easy to forget about Bucky in a room full of her friends. Or at least, that was the plan.

She rounded a corner, lost in her thoughts about how her friends would make fun of her movie choice. But as always, life had other plans.

Y/N looked up to find Bucky Barnes standing right in front of her. 

“You sure you’re not following me?” she teased.

Bucky smirked, clearly amused. “You caught me!”

She playfully swatted him with the bag of snacks. He raised his hands in mock defense, laughing.

“So, what’s the deal? Out for a stroll, or are you just trying to bump into me again on purpose?” she asked with a teasing grin, her gaze lingering on him a second longer than she intended.

Bucky looked at her for a moment, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe I am trying to bump into you. What’s it to you?” he countered, his voice soft but laced with something playful.

Y/N felt a twinge of heat rise in her cheeks, but she kept her composure. “Well, if that’s the case, I should warn you—I’m heading to movie night with my friends. You know, the loud bunch who can’t sit still for five minutes.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Movie night, huh?”

Y/N grinned. “It’s just a way to unwind after a long week. We pick something mindless, order too much pizza, and complain about bad plot twists.”

Bucky chuckled, his smile growing. “Sounds like a good time.”

Without even thinking, Y/N found herself saying, “You should join us. We’re in the lounge. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” She instantly regretted the invitation. It was too much, too soon, wasn’t it? He wasn’t part of the team, not really.

But Bucky didn’t look put off in the slightest. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice a little quieter. “You sure? You might regret it. I’m terrible at keeping up with the movie talk.”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to keep her cool. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky said, nodding, clearly amused. “I’ll come. Can’t say no to an invitation like that.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he agreed. It wasn’t like he had to say yes. He could have politely declined, but he didn’t. There was something about the way he’d responded that made her feel like maybe he was just as interested in spending time with her as she was with him.

As they walked toward the lounge together, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Bucky. There was something about the way he carried himself—confident, yet guarded. He was still adjusting to this new life, but there was a certain ease to him now. It wasn’t the same Bucky she’d seen when he first arrived months ago, tense and unsure. He was becoming a part of the team, piece by piece.

They entered the lounge, where her friends were already lounging around. Daisy, Leo, Jemma, Grant, and Antoine waved them over.

“Who’s this?” Daisy asked with a mischievous smile, clearly already in a teasing mood.

“This is Bucky,” Y/N said, giving Bucky a playful nudge as she introduced him.

Bucky grinned. “Hey.”

“You’re a bit weird. You’ll fit right in,” Leo said, handing him a bowl of popcorn as if it were a regular Friday night for him. 

Jemma and Antoine exchanged a knowing look as they started the movie, and soon, Bucky was settling in beside Y/N on the couch.

For the next couple of hours, they slipped into the rhythm of the group—sharing laughs over cheesy lines, throwing out ridiculous theories about the plot, and shoving popcorn into their mouths. Y/N noticed how comfortable Bucky seemed to get, more relaxed as the movie progressed. Every now and then, he’d throw out a sarcastic remark or laugh at something someone said, and Y/N found herself smiling at how effortlessly he was blending in.

As the movie wrapped up and everyone started to pick up their stuff, Y/N turned to him, her voice teasing again. “So, you survived movie night. What do you think?”

Bucky leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his head. “It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done,” he said with a wink.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess you’ll be coming again next week, huh?”

“You know it,” Bucky replied, his grin wide and genuine.

#tags: @cjand10

[mirroringdust]

Lucy works on her listening talent during the black winter and finds an unusual way back to Portland Row. A Lockwood and co fic with mind palace and little lotr vibes 😊

When the skull had first told her about it, she had straight up laughed at him. When he hadn’t stopped telling her more, Lucy had no choice but to listen.

After all, there was little distraction and no one else to talk to during this long, meaningless winter she had barricaded herself in. The flat she had lived in since leaving the place she had called home and the people she had belonged to was just that, flat and devoid of light and any sense of comfort. She just stayed here after a job, ate and waited until the next job could distract her. In all the grey fog she tried not to think about, talking to Skull was actually a delight. And during all those days of brooding and aimless gazing out of the window, she was more than grateful to have someone to talk to. Usually, it was his sarcastic comments that got her through the day, making her laugh and forgetting for a moment that she was far from the place that had brought her joy for the first time in her life. Perhaps the skull had noticed, if a floating skull in a jar could notice such trivial things, but sometimes Lucy thought he knew her better than anyone else and knew what and who she was missing.

He mocked her for it, but lately his words had been more serious than usual. He must have watched her stare into the void once too often, or maybe he was bored by her growing silence, but one day in the cold of that winter, he had told her about the concept for the first time. Surely he had wanted to help her, but after she had laughed, Lucy had just raised an eyebrow.

“Locis anthoenius?”

The green flicker in the jar floated angrily. “Don’t play dumb, you can’t be that language numb. Can’t believe I’m even rhyming now. This requires change!”

“I’m not a hundred years old like you. Please enlighten me.” Lucy replied with a tired look.

There was a sort of eye roll. At least that’s what Lucy could interpret by now.

“Lo-cus A-moe-nus.” The skull emphasised each syllable in her mind as if talking to a little child.

Lucy moved across the bed and closer to the windowsill the jar was standing on.

“And what does that mean?”

“It’s something I've heard of. Maybe I shouldn’t talk about it.”

Now Lucy got curious, which was probably exactly his intention. “I know it’s like you to play around like that, but I’m really not in the mood.”

“You should be. It’s the only thing that might get us out of this senseless hole, if only for a distracting while.”

“This isn’t a hole!” Lucy rose with a look of indignation.

“It's definitely a mess. There are clothes all over this place.”

“It is not!” She narrowed her eyes, adjusted her position on the bed and looked at her room for what must have been the first time in weeks. She swallowed, it really did look horrible. Clothes lying around everywhere, old parcels from deliveries, a couple of used teacups, shoes scattered around and not in pairs, her equipment - and it did not stop there. The chaos in the other place she had escaped from had been somehow charming, but this was far from it. No wonder she was not feeling well. She made a mental note to clean up this mess later and sighed. "Fine. What is this thing?"

The skull didn’t wait a second for his reply, "a kind of concept. Or some kind of sense that can only be furthered by those who are able to listen, and as you’re someone who can talk to me, perhaps you can do it."

"Do what?" she asked, her voice demanding and annoyed, not sure if this conversation would lead anywhere, but if it could bring some colour to this grey mass, what harm could it do? No more than the weight on her shoulders anyway.

"You can return to a place of… joy, that’s how you’d name it. You need to recall a feeling of a place that feels very strong to you, and you need to remember some details." He paused for a moment. "And I know very well which place you'd like to return to."

[Continue on AO3]

[camgoloud]

you ever just. become overwhelmed by a sudden out-of-nowhere wave of tenderness and affection and longing for reconnection directed towards someone to whom you no longer speak for Very Good Reasons

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

I was rewatching The Stone Forest and I really like to think that Hilda had to pass by the Bell Keeper’s outpost on her way out of the city limits. I like to think that idiot looked at what was happening, shrugged, and said ‘eh, she’s the scariest thing out there’