#and hers doesn’t seem to have anything to do with anything

[kateschi]

two heroes, one marriage

synopsis: having stolen the hearts of fans with your teamwork and marraige, you and katsuki are called in for a joint interview.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the magazine spread featuring you and katsuki as top pro heroes has the fanbase buzzing for weeks.

power couples aren’t uncommon, but the combination of your joint success and explosive chemistry—both literally and figuratively—makes you stand out.

when you both get asked to sit down for a joint interview, it’s hard to say no, especially when the public can’t seem to get enough of the dynamic between you and your husband.

sitting side by side on a plush sofa in the brightly lit studio, katsuki bristles with impatience, his jaw clenched as the interviewer introduces the segment.

it’s a familiar scene—his fiery personality on display for everyone to see—but you can feel the underlying tension, the way his body leans subtly closer to yours for grounding.

“so, the two of you are recognized as two of the top heroes of the year, and fans are really curious to know how you manage your lives as heroes and as a married couple,” the interviewer begins with a polite smile, clearly trying to ease into the conversation.

before you can respond, katsuki’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“what the hell kinda question is that?” he snaps, eyes narrowing as he crosses his arms. “we do our damn jobs, and we go home. simple as that.”

you stifle a laugh, used to his bluntness by now. gently placing a hand on his arm, you intervene.

“what he means,” you say, casting a glance at katsuki that makes him grumble, “is that it’s about finding a rhythm. we both understand each other’s work, so we don’t get in each other’s way.”

katsuki grunts, his fiery gaze fixed on the interviewer. “she knows how to handle herself; doesn’t need me micromanaging her every move.”

despite his words, his hand finds its way to your lower back, fingers pressing into the fabric of your suit.

his touch is subtle, a quiet reassurance in the midst of his usual tough demeanor, but you know it means he’s keeping you close, watching out for you in his own way.

the interviewer picks up on the moment, nodding enthusiastically.

“it sounds like you both have a lot of trust in each other. how do you support one another with the high demands of your careers?”

katsuki clicks his tongue, clearly irritated. “support? we’re pros. we know what we’re doin’ out there.”

but just as you’re about to add something, he turns his head slightly to you, his voice dropping just enough for you to hear the change in tone.

“that doesn’t mean I won’t blow the ass off anyone who even thinks about messin’ with her,” he mutters.

you chuckle softly, nudging him with your elbow. “and here I thought I didn’t need you hovering around.”

“shut up,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite in his tone.

his hand stays on your back, thumb brushing up and down in a way only you notice. “just ‘cause you’re strong doesn’t mean I’m not gonna make sure you’re alright.”

the interviewer, sensing an opportunity, leans in. “mister dynamight, you seem pretty protective of your wife. would you say that’s how you balance work and home life?”

katsuki’s eyes flash, his scowl deepening. “of course, I’m protective. you think I’d let her get caught up in any shit without me there to take care of it?”

his voice is sharp, but the way his arm shifts slightly to pull you closer is anything but harsh. “we don’t even need to talk about this crap.”

you smile to yourself, knowing this is as close to an open display of affection as katsuki will get in public.

his explosive personality never wavers, but there are cracks in his tough exterior that only you can see—moments where his concern for you bleeds through.

when the interviewer pushes on, asking about how your relationship works in the field, katsuki scoffs again.

“are you gonna keep asking this?” he snaps, before glancing at you, his hand tightening just slightly at your waist.

he sighs, trying to compose himself. “we work together ‘cause we’re a team, a hella good one at that.”

his little proud smirk makes your heart flutter. you decide to tease him a little. “oh, so you’re saying you can’t live without me on the battlefield, huh?”

his glare is immediate, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “don’t twist my words! I just—”

he cuts himself off, grumbling under his breath.

“you’re the one who keeps me in check, alright? so yeah, maybe i do rely on you. you’re my wife, and I am your husband. that’s natural! don’t make a big deal out of it.”

your husband huffs and looks away, which makes you giggle.

meanwhile, the interviewer chuckles nervously, clearly amused by the exchange. “it seems like you two have a really solid partnership.”

katsuki rolls his eyes. “damn right we do. we’ve got each other’s backs. that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”

as the interview wraps up, you feel katsuki’s hand slip from your waist, but his presence lingers, as solid and steady as ever.

once you’re off-camera and away from the prying eyes of the public, katsuki turns to you, his expression softening in that rare way that only you ever get to see.

“let’s get outta here,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “this interview crap’s a waste of time.”

you laugh, slipping your hand into his. “let's hope they don't cut you out like they did in highschool.”

“shut the hell up.” but despite his grumbling, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his grip tightening just slightly as you walk together out of the studio.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[mayanneaa]

gossip girl - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

PAIRING : jj maybank x reader

SUMMARY : you train jj to be a proper gossiper.

WARNING(S) : established relationship!! slight swearing but it's pure fluff!, not proofread

A/N : xoxo. my tummy hurts so fucking bad. also this one's ending might be a little shitty forgive me pls (divider by @roseraris)

WC : 1k

masterlist.

“JJ!” You exclaim, skipping through the Chateau, looking for your boyfriend. The air is sticky, filled with the smell of wood, salt, and beer.

You make your way through the living room and spot your boyfriend in the back, lying on one of the hammocks.

He covers his face with his arm, slowly swinging.

“Jay, you have to hear this!”

JJ sits up the second he hears your voice, his eyes almost shut. “Hi, baby.”

He extends his arms, and you quickly hug him, leaving a peck on his lips.

“Okay, so you better hold on to this hammock, because—”

“Woah, woah. Wait,” he says, rubbing his eyes and moving in the hammock, trying to give you some space. “What’s going on?”

You grit your teeth while sitting on the edge of the worn-out material, not being able to keep this to yourself any longer. “Ugh, remember when I told you my mom asked me to go help the Jones? They just moved back here but without Ben.”

JJ furrows his brows, “Ben? The father…?”

You nod, “Yes! Well, their daughter is our age, and, by the way, she’s super sweet! Maybe I should invite her over here—”

“You’re drifting off the topic, baby.” JJ reminds you, now fully awake and interested in your story.

“Yeah, right. When I got there, she seemed kinda sad and annoyed, so as the good person that I am, I asked her what was wrong, and she spilled the whole tea! Everything!” You ramble, animating with your arms, and JJ watches your every move with a slight smile, clearly amused.

“She said her father cheated on Ms. Jones with a girl who’s barely 20! Do you understand that?!”

JJ giggles under his breath, lying back down. “Yeah. That’s so fucking messed up…”

“Right?” you say before you take a deep breath, “She mentioned that that side chick used to live here and that we might know her, but i have no idea who could that be.”

“Damn, you gossip like an old lady.” Your boyfriend says, pulling you to his chest. You gasp, dramatically placing your hand on your heart.

“I will find out. I mean, who cheats on such a beautiful woman like Ms. Jones? Especially this… this Ben? He looks like he sneaked onto the Earth—”

“Woah, woah, chill!”

You sit on the couch in your living room, sipping the juice from the recipe you just tried out and trying to get through a book when you get a notification.

With a sigh, you reach for your phone to read the message you got from JJ. He’s supposed to pick up his hoodie, which he left there last week.

A few minutes later the comfortable silence gets broken with the loud ring of the bell.

JJ doesn’t even hesitate, he just comes in without a second thought. You take a look at his face and can immediately tell he’s not in the best mood. He immediately comes up to you.

“Hi,” you say as he leans in to kiss the top of your head. “What’s up?”

He grunts, “I had to go and fix the AC at the Jones house. They were talking so fucking loud my head feels like exploding—”

You let out a gasp, and your eyes glisten. “At the Jones? What were they talking about?”

JJ squints his eyes, “Uhh I don’t know? I stopped paying attention after some man joined in.”

You look at him, disappointment mixed with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah, they were arguing so I just did my thing and left.”

You groan. “You are kidding me. JJ, you could’ve heard something about the drama!”

He widens his eyes, a sheepish smile crawling onto his lips. “Ohhh, right… I’m sorry, baby.”

Your lips form into a pout, and JJ raises his eyebrows. “Nuh-uh, don’t pout at me for this. I’m not a gossiper, you know that.”

“Well, I know, I know…”

“But I promise I’ll tell you anything I hear.”

You sigh and hug him, breathing in his scent. “You better.”

You don’t even know when did you drift off to sleep, sitting on the back porch at the Chateau. The soft breeze and whistles of wind put you to sleep like a lullaby.

The front doors close with a loud crack, announcing that JJ has returned from the shop. You and the Pogues were supposed to have dinner tonight, and your boyfriend had to go and buy all the missing ingredients.

“Baby, you won’t believe it!”

You slowly open your eyes, eyelids fluttering from the orange sunset sky. You hum, and JJ runs outside, the grocery bag still in his hand.

“Did you get everything?” You ask, stretching your arms with a yawn.

“Yeah, I think so, anyway…” He speaks so fast you have to gain your consciousness quickly in order to understand what he’s saying. “Guess who I met at the store!”

You squint, trying to come up with a name in your mind, still fogged up with sleep. “Rafe?”

JJ shakes his head and you click your tongue.

“Topper?”

“No!” he gets a bit frustrated, a sight that makes you laugh. “What was a thing you were super invested in?”

Your eyes widen. “The Jones?”

JJ’s grin grows even wider. “Yes! Oh my God, would you believe that the man I saw is actually Ms. Jones’ new boyfriend? And that’s not the best part. He’s Ben’s cousin who’s much more successful too! This man owns four different restaurants and has three houses in Asia, Europe, and South America. He’s crazy rich!”

You gasp. “Wow. You really clocked all of this, didn’t you?”

He looks at you, a proud look on his face. “Duh. It was so much fun!”

JJ starts to tell you the story about how he had to follow them in different isles to hear everything and in the meantime, you check the grocery bag.

“…Then they moved to the dairy fridges, so naturally I went after them and—”

“JJ.”

“Huh?”

“You forgot half of the products...”

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Vi with a shy girlfriend ✞⛧

✞⛧ Vi notices your shyness immediately and loves you for it, but she also wants to help you feel comfortable in expressing yourself, especially when it comes to affection. She’s patient, never rushing you, and knows when to push and when to let you take the lead.

✞⛧ She always starts small, giving you little touches—brushing her hand against yours, placing a hand on the small of your back when she walks by you. She watches for your reactions, learning what makes you smile, what makes you flinch, and adjusting accordingly.

✞⛧ When she sees you shy away from a kiss, she doesn’t press it. Instead, she gives you a soft smile and a quiet, “It’s okay, babe,” before giving you time to settle.

✞⛧ She’s always the first to initiate hugs, but she’s not the type to force it. She’ll gently pull you into her arms, and if you seem uncomfortable, she’ll hold you in a way that lets you breathe easily, never making you feel trapped.

✞⛧ Vi constantly reassures you, verbally and through her actions, that you never have to force anything with her. “Take your time, sweetheart. I’ve got all the time in the world,” she’ll say with a warm grin, giving you space to come to her.

✞⛧ She gives you space when you need it, letting you retreat into your own little world for a moment, but she’s always nearby, just a glance away, ready to support you when you’re ready to come back.

✞⛧ When you get shy about holding hands in public, Vi gently takes your hand and weaves her fingers through yours, squeezing it lightly to let you know it’s okay. She doesn’t let go until she feels you relax in her hold.

✞⛧ Vi’s body language is always open and inviting when she’s with you, which helps you feel safe. She never crosses her arms or makes any sudden movements that would make you feel uncomfortable.

✞⛧ She often speaks in soft, reassuring tones when you’re feeling nervous or overwhelmed. If you’re struggling with something emotionally, she’ll keep her voice low and comforting, giving you the time to process.

✞⛧ She enjoys surprising you with small acts of affection that aren’t too forward, like brushing your hair out of your face or giving you a quick peck on the cheek when you least expect it, making you feel special but not pressured.

✞⛧ Vi always asks for permission before initiating anything more intimate, knowing how important consent and comfort are to you. She’ll ask, “Is this okay?” when she touches you in a way that might make you nervous, and she listens to your response with full attention.

✞⛧ She doesn’t tease you when you blush or get flustered. Instead, she finds it endearing, telling you how cute you are when you turn red, but never in a way that makes you feel embarrassed or self-conscious.

✞⛧ Vi makes sure to keep the environment relaxed, always creating a space where you can unwind and just be yourself. Whether it’s listening to music, watching movies, or just sitting quietly together, she’s content with simply being near you.

✞⛧ She loves when you come out of your shell, so whenever you do something small to show affection—like a quiet “I love you” or a gentle hand on her arm—she makes sure to show you just how much it means to her.

✞⛧ When you get shy about verbalizing your feelings, she encourages you gently, saying things like, “It’s okay to say it, babe. I wanna hear it,” giving you a safe space to open up at your own pace.

✞⛧ Vi has a way of calming your nerves with her confidence, not overbearing but steady. She won’t push you to be someone you’re not, but she’ll encourage you to take little steps outside of your comfort zone in a way that feels natural.

✞⛧ Vi has a habit of gently teasing you, but it’s never to make you feel bad. It’s always lighthearted, like calling you her “shy little thing” or “cutie,” making you smile even when you’re nervous.

✞⛧ She’s very aware of your body language, always noticing when you’re uncomfortable or retreating into yourself. If you seem tense, she’ll offer a gentle touch, like resting her hand on your knee or squeezing your hand to let you know she’s there.

✞⛧ Vi loves to spoil you in small ways—bringing you your favorite snacks, leaving sweet notes for you to find, or giving you little unexpected gifts. It’s her way of showing her affection without overwhelming you.

✞⛧ She makes it clear that she appreciates your quieter side, often telling you, “You don’t have to be loud to make an impact. You’ve got that quiet strength that I adore.”

✞⛧ Vi will often ask you how you’re feeling, making sure to give you room to talk, but never forcing you to do so. She listens intently, and when you do speak, she always validates your feelings, whether you’re happy, anxious, or shy.

✞⛧ When you get nervous about physical affection, she’s patient. She won’t rush things, but she’ll offer you her hand, her smile, and her quiet reassurance. “Whenever you’re ready, babe,” she’ll say, and you always feel safe in her arms.

✞⛧ Vi likes to take her time with you, making sure that when she touches you, it’s with intention. Whether it’s a slow kiss, a caress, or just holding you close, she wants you to know that you can trust her to be gentle with your heart.

✞⛧ She doesn’t let you hide your feelings for too long. If you’re upset or nervous about something, she’ll softly coax it out of you, saying things like, “Talk to me, sweetheart. I’m here to listen,” in a tone that leaves no room for hesitation.

✞⛧ Vi loves holding you close in bed, and she always makes sure to be the big spoon so she can wrap you up in her arms. It’s her favorite way to show affection without overwhelming you—just her steady presence.

✞⛧ She’s an amazing listener when you do decide to open up, never interrupting or trying to “fix” things, but simply hearing you out and offering support in the way she knows best.

✞⛧ When you’re feeling insecure, she’s quick to remind you how amazing you are, whether it’s with words or simple gestures—like brushing a strand of hair from your face or giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek.

✞⛧ Vi never makes you feel bad about needing time alone. She’ll kiss you softly and say, “I’ll be right here when you’re ready, babe,” and respect your need for space while always being there when you want to come back.

✞⛧ She’s not into public displays of affection, but in private, she’ll show you all the love and attention you need. Whether it’s a soft touch on the arm or a whispered compliment, she’s careful to ensure you feel cherished.

✞⛧ Vi’s touch is always gentle and reassuring, especially when you’re feeling vulnerable. Whether it’s a hand on your shoulder or a kiss on your forehead, her physical affection always makes you feel safe and loved.

✞⛧ She’s very perceptive of when you’re holding back, and though she never pushes, she’ll remind you how much she loves when you’re open with her. “You don’t have to hide, babe. I love every part of you,” she’ll say, and her voice always brings you comfort.

✞⛧ Vi’s ultimate goal is for you to feel comfortable in your own skin, and she works tirelessly to help you realize that she’s not going anywhere, that she’ll always be there to support you, no matter how shy or reserved you might be.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

—nepenthe

content: angst and comfort, reader is ambessa's servant, mentions of prostitution, vi's pitfighter era, make-out session, alcohol, two heartbroken people who honestly just need a hug, mentions of degrading names.

"nepenthe"

– an ancient greek word, nepenthe, is defined as a medicine for sorrow. it is a place, person, or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering.

You sit alone, forehead resting on the surface of the bar. It’s stuffy, crowded with an outpour of Zaunites. The fight in the underground ring must’ve been over now. You sigh, tapping the shot glass against the bar. You try not to let tears gather in the corners of your eyes, free to fall down your cheeks, but it’s nearly hopeless. Being a servant to a high rank is one of the worst paths you could’ve taken. 

You remember the days you worked in Babette’s brothel. At least then, you didn’t fall in love with your clients. Why did you love Ambessa so much? Less like a wave and more of a tsunami, she enjoys crashing into you. You love it, too. Ambessa is a lioness, brave and fierce. You’re not a tiger or a panther, not even a common housecat. You’re a stray. 

Voices fill your ears from every angle, but the one that isn’t there, the one that you wish to be real repeats endlessly. 

“You’re nothing but a whore. Do you really think I’d ever make you my wife?” Her laugh that followed her harsh words rings in your head like a church bell. 

“You’re just another filthy Zaunite girl, and that’s what you’ll die as.” 

Your whole body trembled when she said that, as she dismissed you. It’s back to the brothels for you, and you wonder if there is anything more humiliating than going from living in a mansion with one of Noxia’s most respected commanders to back in your shabby house in the under city. You can’t dwell on the thought, though you want to. Someone next to you taps your shoulder, nearly causing you to snap. The voice is oddly familiar. 

“You look a little pathetic, you know. You didn’t even take the shot.” They say, words harsh but clearly a light tease. The voice is clearly a woman’s, though slurred in a drunken haze. You’ve heard it before, but from where? 

You force yourself to sit up and face your left, where the voice is coming from. There is an infamous face. Light freckles dotted over pale skin, and what used to be a reddish-pink hair is now stained a midnight black. The scar on her upper-lip shifts with her smile, though the expression doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“You can have it.” You mumble, eyes leaving hers. You should feel embarrassed to be moping around in a bar, but you don’t care. 

Vi sighs, feeling a twinge of sympathy for you. Regardless, she grabs the shot, tilting her head back as the vodka rushes down her throat. It’ll come back up later. 

“What’s your deal?” She asks, scooching closer to you. 

“Relationship issues.” You simply say, though the strain in your voice is clear. Relationship, if you could ever call it that. Serving to Ambessa’s every need and bending to her will was a dynamic, you were never her lover. You could never be a wife is a thought that lingers in your head and plagues you like an incoming pandemic, a disease that could wipe out towns. Vi seems to know, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans in, patting your back in a soothing manner. 

“My place?” She offers into your ear, words like a poison stronger than alcohol or shimmer. You find yourself walking down the street, leaning on each other as she leads you to her small apartment. 

Inside, kisses are sloppy and taste more like a bottle of cheap vodka than anything pleasant. You desperately cup her face, fingers tangled in her hair. Her hands grab your waist and send a much-needed warmth up your spine. 

Perhaps if you stop to tell each other who you got your hearts trampled by, then there would be some comforting relations. Vi would tell you that you are more than a whore, and Ambessa would be lucky to have you. That you deserve more than to have to quiet down and be an obedient piece of property. You would tell Vi that she is sweet, deserves better than Caitlyn. But words aren’t exchanged, and that is what makes the kisses so desperate. 

You wish to speak it all with your tongue sucking on hers, and she is needy to vent out her frustrations by pushing you down onto her twin-sized bed, quickly following you down. Vi is warm, almost too warm that it burns you to love on her. 

You don’t even realize that you began crying until you’re wondering why Vi pulled away. She looks more concerned than turned on, wiping at your cheeks and leaning in to kiss them. 

“I’ll punch whoever did this to you.” She states, burying her face into your neck and softly kissing your beating pulse. You’re alive, and it’s a comfort to her. Vi’s breath on the surface of your skin warms you throughout, and you can feel her body. She is real. 

You’ll wonder why you’re in this woman’s bed in the morning, perhaps deciding to sneak out before she can even wake up. However, for now, you hold each other, letting your scents mix and your fingers intertwine until the sun rises over the horizon. 

[kiwriteswords]

My Funny Valentine [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 1.9k|| AN: I have been binge-re-watching The Nanny for the first time since I was a teenager and got to the episode where Fran buys a billboard for Mr. Sheffield after thinking he was her secret admirer. I had to do this for Hotch and Reader!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, BAU reader, will they won't they relationship, Valentine's Day, mentions of Haley, mentions of a creepy police officer, based off an episode of The Nanny, fools in love.

Summary: Given your undeniable chemistry and attraction for one another, when an unsigned card with flowers and a teddy bear shows up on your desk, you assume it's from Hotch. After making a grand gesture for what you thought was in return, you both soon realize the truth.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your interactions with Hotch have been a mixture of professional respect and undeniable chemistry. Over the years, the flirty banter had evolved into a dance of “will they, won't they,” much to the entertainment--and sometimes frustration--of the team. 

Everyone could see the mutual attraction except, it seemed, the two of you.

Being Hotch's subordinate, you treaded carefully, harboring feelings you dared not confess, always secretly hoping he'd be the one to break the professional boundary.

You were younger--not inappropriately so (maybe just a little)...well, enough to make you question if this chemistry was all in your head. Enough questioning to allow these feelings to remain at a standstill--or at least until he broke first. 

This Valentine's Day seemed like any other day at the BAU, but when you arrived at your desk, you found a bouquet of pink carnations and a teddy bear holding a card. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the flirty message. 

"To the one who captures my thoughts as easily as she profiles unsubs. Happy Valentine's Day."

You couldn't help but think it was from Hotch. Carnations and a teddy bear? Not what you would have imagined Hotch picking out, but nonetheless, thoughtful. Unexpected. Thrilling. 

He was finally crossing that line drawn in the sand. The one you blurred and blurred but ultimately never swept away. 

Excitement bubbling up inside you, you rushed to share the news with Penelope Garcia, your go-to confidante for all things romantic and dramatic. The one who had been arguably rooting for you and Hotch more than anyone. 

Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in her, or maybe…just maybe, the proof was there in plain daylight with the way you and Hotch played your games with one another. Like a tennis match of back and forth--over and over. 

“My gosh,” Penelope squealed, looking at the card, “I mean…I can’t believe it. What are you going to do? What are you going to say!?” She leaned forward, capturing your arm, almost to steady her own excitement. 

“I want to do something for him…something nobody’s ever done for him before.” You thought carefully. 

Many would argue that you were…of the dramatic kind. Maybe that’s why you and Penelope got along so easily. Hotch would argue that you were dramatic the most. You often used it to your own advantage with him. 

You knew--although you’d both never admit it--you had Hotch wrapped around your finger so it was easy to use those puppy dog eyes when you didn’t feel like completing a case assignment or if you wanted the bigger room at the hotel. 

“You know,” Penelope pondered, “Now that I think of it,” She scrunched her face, “All of these years here, I’m not sure anyone’s ever left Hotch a Valentine. I mean…I gave him a pink fostered sugar cookie once, but even Haley…I don’t think there was anything here for him.” 

You smirked, raising an eyebrow, “He doesn’t seem like the type that’s going to like a velvet heart-shaped box filled with fruit-filled chocolates.” 

“That man is a closet sweet eater,” Penelope pointed at you, “But to your point, you’ve gotta do something…something grand. Something that will knock his argyle socks off.” 

You snorted, then really thought. Grand. Grand? What would be grand? Then it came to you. 

“I have the best idea.” 

The two of you giggled and brainstormed extravagant ideas to win Hotch's heart, finally settling on a grand gesture that no one could ignore--a billboard confession. You found the idea so wildly romantic, the perfect way to tell Hotch how you felt.

With Penelope's enthusiastic encouragement, you commissioned a billboard on Hotch's route home.

“Be My Valentine, Aaron Hotchner! Love your Y/N” 

However, as you prepared to leave work that evening, you received a call from the local police department asking if you enjoyed the flowers. Your stomach dropped as you recognized the voice--it was the overly friendly officer from your last case, the one Hotch had given a look to the entire time. 

The cheesy teddy bear. The cheap carnations. The corny card. None of that would be Hotch. You wanted to die. Crawl into a ball and die of embarrassment and stupidity, but not until after you got rid of that billboard!

Frantic, you rushed to find Rossi, Derek, and Spencer, blurting out your predicament and the mistake you’d made. They erupted into laughter but saw the urgency of the situation.

"We’ve got to get that billboard down before Hotch drives home!" you exclaimed, your face burning with embarrassment. You paced around the bullpen, looking up to Hotch’s office, then to them, then back up. You ran your hand over your face, stressed. 

Rossi, Spencer, and Derek gathered around you, each wearing an expression that meant business. Derek leaned against his car, arms crossed. "You know, you could just leave that billboard up. It's about time one of you made a move."

Rossi nodded, his wise eyes fixed on you. "We're all tired of the dance, kid. It's not just you suffering from all this uncertainty--Hotch is right there with you. You both need to take that leap."

Spencer chimed in, "Statistically, the likelihood of mutual feelings being reciprocated in situations like these is quite high. You might be pleasantly surprised."

You appreciated their support, but the thought of Hotch seeing the billboard without understanding the context terrified you. You grabbed your car keys and headed to the nearest hardware store. "I just need to fix this before it gets worse," you muttered more to yourself than to them.

At the hardware store, you picked up a bucket of paint and a roller, your hands trembling slightly at the thought of climbing up the billboard. Heights had never been your friend, but today, they seemed a lesser evil compared to the embarrassment of Hotch reading your unintended public declaration.

With the sun setting, you parked your car by the billboard and stared up at the looming structure. Steeling your nerves, you looked up toward the tall ladder that led to a ledge where the freshly painted billboard sat. You wished the service you paid earlier was available after hours to come and take down the work they had done so quickly. 

Each step up made your heart pound louder, but the fear of making a fool of yourself pushed you onward.

Once you reached the top, you positioned yourself to start painting, but a sudden wave of vertigo hit as you peered down. The can of paint slipped from your grip, tumbling down and splattering the ground below with white paint.

You looked up to the sky and raised your hands with defeat and tears forming in your eyes, “Is this some sick joke?!”

Climbing down was even harder, with your hands shaking and tears of frustration starting to blur your vision. Just as you reached the last few rungs, a pair of steady hands gently guided you down. You almost jumped out of your skin, only to turn and see Hotch, his face filled with concern.

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed, keeping his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

You took a deep breath, wiping away a stray tear, turning as you took your last step off the ladder. He steadied you on the last few steps down, his touch reassuring.

"I'm so sorry, Hotch. There’s been a huge misunderstanding," you began, your voice a mix of embarrassment and relief. "I thought those flowers and the teddy bear were from you, and Penelope and I--we…I just got carried away."

Hotch gave you a small, understanding smile. "Emily and JJ told me there was a surprise waiting for me on the freeway home. I left early to see what it was." The last thing you expected was Hotch’s calm voice breaking through your flustered apologies. 

Your heart sank, imagining what he must have thought seeing that message. "I was trying to cover it up before you could see it. I didn’t want you to find out like this." You gestured up to the brightly colored billboard with what felt like the most embarrassing thing in the world displayed for everyone and their mother to see. 

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” His gaze softened as he looked up at the message, then back to you. "I saw the billboard," he admitted a hint of awe in his voice. "Nobody has ever done anything quite like that for me. It was...unexpected, certainly, but kind in a way only you could manage."

Your heart fluttered, surprise etching across your features. "You liked it?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper, unsure if your ears were playing tricks on you.

"I loved it," he corrected gently, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. "You have a knack for the dramatic, but it’s one of the many reasons I..." His voice trailed off, and he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. The pause was palpable, every second stretching longer than the last until finally, he continued, "It’s one of the many reasons I love you."

The world seemed to stop spinning as his words hung in the air. "You love me?" you repeated, your voice a mix of hope and disbelief. Hotch reached up to brush a stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek gently. Your hand reached up to cover his, leaning into his touch. 

Hotch nodded, a soft chuckle escaping him, as if it was common knowledge, like you should already know it--or maybe he realized he should have already said it. 

"Yes, I do. And I think it’s about time I said it."

Emotions swirled within you--relief, joy, and a love that had been quietly simmering for too long. It all bubbled to the surface as you stepped closer, reducing the space between you. "I love you too, Hotch," you confessed, your voice steady with conviction.

His smile was all the encouragement you needed. You both leaned in and under the soft glow of the streetlights and the shadow of the billboard, your lips met in a kiss that sealed the confessions of the day. The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory as if both of you were still gauging the reality of the moment. But as certainty took over, it deepened, affirming the years of unspoken feelings and flirtatious banter.

As you both pulled away, Hotch's eyes twinkled with a mixture of contentment and mischief. "Next time," he said with a playful grin, "I'll be the one buying flowers; you’ll know they’re from me. I wouldn’t dare buy you carnations, and they won’t come with a cheap teddy bear."

Your laughter filled the air, light and free, as you both made your way back to your cars, the billboard forgotten but its message now etched in both your hearts.

The next morning, as you walked into the BAU, you stood surprised. There, on your desk, stood two dozen long-stem roses in a vase, their crimson petals vibrant against the mundane backdrop of your office. Attached to the vase was a card, Hotch’s neat handwriting spelling out a message that was both flirty and utterly him: 

"For the record, I prefer dramatic gestures that involve flowers on days other than just February 14th. Here’s to many more, just the way we like them. --A."

The smile that spread across your face lingered long into the day, as did the warmth in your heart, knowing the dance of “will they, won't they” had transformed into a harmonious “finally, we did.”

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @superlegend216

[hirayalore]

Can I please request Sirius with a single mama who happens to be a muggle? He would be such a good daddy 😭😭😭

[ sirius black x muggle!reader | fluff | in an alternate universe wherein there was no wizarding war | 3.1k words ]

note. well this got way longer than intended and yet for some reason still doesn’t feel enough??? anyways halfway through writing this i realized that jily is supposed to be 18 when they got married so for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that they’re in their late 20s hehehe,, hope you’ll like this one! 🫶🏻

Sirius got to meet you through Lily.

The meeting was unexpected, really. It was during the time James and Lily were preparing for the wedding, and Sirius, being the designated best man and all, was tasked to deliver some important items for the ceremony from the Evans home to the Potters. 

He knocked on the front door, clad in his usual attire of faded jeans, black shirt, with a leather jacket worn around his shoulders. His motorbike was still running in the driveway, an indication that he wasn’t planning to stay long, but as soon as you opened the door and locked gazes with him, Sirius suddenly thought that perhaps it would be okay to hang around even for a few minutes or so.

He flashed a smile, a smile he knew turned up the charm and made his handsomeness look a bit devilish, and stepped a bit closer, his hands placing themselves on the front pockets of his pants. “I didn’t get the wrong address, did I?” he asked. “Although if I did, I don’t think I should be in the position to complain.” His smile transformed into an easy smirk.

You stared at him, analyzing him, taking in the sight of his dark tousled hair and the manner in which his piercing eyes looked back at you, before opening the door a bit wider. “I take it that you’re Sirius Black?”

“The very one. And you are?”

“____ ____,” you said your full name, extending a hand out for a handshake but when Sirius took it, he didn’t do what you were expecting him to do.

Instead, he brought it closer to his mouth, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he replied smoothly, prompting your face to feel a bit hot.

As you were about to utter a response, Lily came behind you and saw what was happening. She rolled her eyes and playfully shoved Sirius’ shoulder, causing him to drop your hand. 

“What?” he asked, mock innocence on his features but he was already laughing.

“Don’t even think about it, Black,” she warned, though she too was chuckling. She then handed him the things he came for without delay. “____ is off limits.”

“Why? Is she taken?” he asked, glancing at you as if waiting for you to confirm it yourself.

“No,” Lily answered before you could (again), “but she’s my best friend.”

“And? I’m your fiancé’s best mate. Wouldn’t that technically make us meant to be?” He smirked, eyes flickering to you once more. “Don’t you agree, love? I reckon you’re the maid of honor too—my perfect match as the best man.”

You laughed, a soft melodic sound that he got momentarily mesmerized by. “Well, I see Lily was right about what she told me about you. You do seem like a menace.”

“But charming and handsome nonetheless?”

“Sirius,” Lily walked out of the threshold and began gently pushing him to the direction where the motorbike was parked, “go before I hex you,” she said. “Or worse, uninvite you to the wedding.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” He relented, waving a hand before heading to the vehicle and placing the fetched items in the compartment. 

Before he revved the engine, preparing to leave, he gave you one last look which consisted of a rather heart-fluttering grin and a very flirtatious wink.

Lily turned to you as he sped off, already reading what was on your mind. “No,” she said, her tone final.

You laughed. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” She scoffed with a teasing smile, marching back inside the house and leaving you there, still staring at where Sirius rode away.

****

The next time Sirius got to see you, it was at the wedding itself.

It was a small ceremony. James’ parents were there, all happy and excited for this new chapter of their son’s life, and as for Lily’s family, only her parents came to attend.

Her sister, Petunia, still had an unprovoked dislike towards wizards, a feeling that apparently couldn’t be ignored even for one day in order to be part of her sole sister’s special day.

As for other attendees, aside from some friends they went to school with back at Hogwarts, there were quite a number of Muggle friends and relatives, mostly from Lily’s side. It was for that reason that the event felt… mundane, you could say, with the absence of magical decorations and whatnots—but in the best way possible, as it gave the whole affair a more intimate and solemn feel.

“Padfoot, you’re going to turn into a giraffe if you don’t stop craning your neck like that,” Remus retorted with a chuckle.

Sirius gave him a lopsided smirk, dropping the cigarette between his fingers and extinguishing it on the ground.

He was trying to search for you among the busy crowd, curious on where you might be. It wouldn’t take long before the entourage would be asked to take their positions and he would have the excuse of having your arm latched to his, the both of you ultimately walking across the aisle as the best man and maid of honor.

After a few more giraffe-like actions of trying to catch a glimpse of you, he finally saw you talking with Lily’s parents, a baby girl not more than three years old wearing an adorable dress carried in your arms. He didn’t think much of it, assumed that she was a flower girl, though he did notice a bit of similarities between your appearance and the little lady, such as the shape of your eyes and the color of your hair.

“Excuse me,” Sirius arrived just in time beside you as the Evans went off to greet a relative, “I believe that you’re my partner for the day?” he cheekily said.

His smile was directed to you at first, but it swiftly shifted to the toddler who you still had in your arms.

“This is Esther.” You introduced with a fond grin. “My lovely daughter.”

You watched as his eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“Daughter?” he repeated, though the manner in which he said it had no malice. “Well, that explains the pretty eyes.” He chuckled before doing a courteous prince-like bow to Esther. “Pleasure to be of acquaintance, Ms. Esther.”

Esther giggled, hiding behind your hair in bashfulness, though still peaked as Sirius like she was initiating a prompt peek-a-boo game.

“Where’s this cute one’s dad?” he asked next. You could tell that he was attempting to sound nonchalant about it, as if the question wasn’t being asked to check if you were single or not again despite confirming it last time. It seemed like what he wanted to confirm this time was your current relationship with the father of your child.

You shrugged. “No idea. Probably off at someone else’s bed.”

“I see.” He laughed, sounding a bit too pleased.

When you eyes met again, your lips curved upwards as his eyes twinkled.

****

For the rest of the ceremony, you and Sirius shared conversations then and there. 

You reckoned that without Lily’s focus on you, there was less chances of her reprimanding you if she saw you willingly involve yourself with the heartbreaker that is Sirius Black. You weren’t lying when you said that she had said several things about Sirius prior to your first meeting, all of which involved not letting your guard down and being seduced by his ‘bad boy charm’.

“He’s generally nice,” Lily told you. “As a friend, that is—I can’t say much as a significant other—but I do know that he made loads of girls cry and curse his name back then.”

And as Sirius made you laugh after one joke and another, you could understand why. He was the type of guy who knew what the ladies loved and used it to his advantage; the type who was aware of how good looking he was and yet acted as if he didn’t, this effortless aura surrounding him that pulled you in ever so naturally.

Whenever Esther was whisked away by a friend or any elderly couple that were enamored with the presence of a child, Sirius took it as an opportunity to level up his advances. He’d compliment you, look at you with a gaze that made you a bit weak in the knees, and spoke in a voice that was all velvety and smooth—giving you an even clearer picture that this definitely wasn’t the first time he went his way to woo a woman.

“Look at those two,” you said upon seeing Lily and James sway along the rhythm of the slow music, caught in their own world at the center of the dance floor, “I find it hilarious that he’s the lad she ended up marrying. Do you know how many times she complained about him whenever she came back from Hogwarts?”

Sirius snorted. “Well, in her defense, James was a bloody tosser. He followed her around, trying to get her to go with him for even one date.”

You hummed in agreement. “Yes, but I also heard that he was an arse, always messing with Severus.”

“Oh, you’re familiar with Snivellus?” He appeared amused for a second, daresay proud at the awful nickname—but then realization dawned unto him, and he shifted his expression to a more controlled and behaved one. “I mean, Severus, yes. Severus Snape—I didn’t know you knew him too.”

Your nose wrinkled.

Instead of answering his question, you tilted your head slightly to the side before uttering out what you have been itching to say since he began blatantly showing interest to you. “I know your reputation, Sirius,” you began, “and I’ll have you know that I have no time for funny business.”

“Great. Neither do I.”

“I have a daughter.”

“Yes, as you have introduced me to the little one earlier.”

“And does that not bother you? Or do you like knowing that you can have someone with a child wrapped around your finger?”

His features softened in an instant. “Love, I don’t know what you exactly heard from Lily, but I’ll tell you this. I won’t deny how much of a menace I’ve been when we were still studying, but it has also been a few years since we graduated. I’m not entirely the same lad as I was.”

You were skeptical. No matter how talking to him throughout the evening gave enough proof to support his case (he did prove that he was a man of substance and who knew how to lead a meaningful conversation), you were also wary of putting all your trust in him. After all, this wasn’t the first time that a man charmed you and made the implication that he was going to treat you the best, only to flee the moment you made it apparent that you needed him.

“Okay,” you said.

Sirius chuckled. “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As it’s supposed to be.” You shrugged. “It’s a free country. You can do anything you want, as they say.”

****

It has been 11 months since Sirius and you became a couple officially.

Was Lily mad?

She was furious. She scolded you nonstop for days, saying how she didn’t lack in warning you about Sirius and that you should be careful about letting men in your life, especially since the last man you let in was not only an embarrassment, but someone who had made it apparent that not everyone can stay true to their promises.

She was right, of course. You weren’t naive and you for sure were smarter this time around. There was no moment that you ever made it easy for Sirius the second he declared his intentions with you, always being transparent of your feelings and whenever he did something that you didn’t like. Your mindset was always that if he were to give up because of your ‘pickiness’ or ‘unrealistic’ demands, then it would save you the time of investing your feelings yet again to the wrong person.

But Sirius was a different breed. He was persistent. He met each ridiculous request with ease and listened to every concern you addressed to him with commendable willingness to change. Though there were still moments wherein his inherent mischievousness jumped out, when his sharp tongue rolled out at the presence of others and you saw a side of him that you didn’t particularly like—at the end, Sirius knew when to apologize and how to show you that he wasn’t all talk in saying that he was ready to change for the better for you.

As for his relationship with Esther… well, you thought that was the most compelling thing about being with Sirius, just seeing him effortlessly take on the role of her father figure without being asked to.

“Oh, Merlin, you must be the most adorable little lady in the world, darling,” Sirius cooed at Esther as he adjusted the backpack worn behind her shoulders, dressed in light denim overalls with a white shirt underneath.

She was going on a trip with your brother, along with his wife and two kids, and was going to be picked up a few minutes from now. Sirius had insisted the night prior to sleeping at your place to help you pack Esther’s things, given how the trip was going to last three days, and when you woke up this morning to prepare breakfast and some snacks she could bring, saw that Sirius had already prepared it for you.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” you mused.

“I don’t.”

“Then how—” you cut yourself off at the reminder of him being like Lily, a wizard, and the sight of the smirk plastered on his face. “Right, right. Almost forgot about that one.”

“Sirius,” you heard your daughter chime while you checked her belongings, making sure that everything was set, “will you still be here when I get back?”

Sirius smoothed her hair. “Hm, that depends, love. You know I don’t actually live here, don’t you?” He teased her.

“But you’s always sleeping here!”

“Yes, because I like spending time with your mum.” He chuckled. “And you, of course. You can’t quite sleep without me reading you your favorite storybook.”

She nodded. “Tha’s ‘cause I likes it when you read it.”

“More than you like listening to Mummy?” You jumped in the conversation, crossing your arms in fake hurt. “I’m wounded, darling.  Aren’t I supposed to be your favorite?”

Esther grinned rather sheepishly. “You’s still are, Mummy. But when Sirius reads me my storybooks, he makes the characters all come to life!”

Before you could process the implication of what she said, two loud honks from a vehicle outside announced your brother’s arrival and Sirius was quick to take advantage of the distraction, ushering you to greet your brother outside while he helped with bringing Esther’s things to the car.

Once all things were settled, you kissed Esther’s cheek goodbye, a wet smooch that she giggled to, and said your farewells to your brother, his wife, and your two nieces that you hugged tightly and gave sweet kisses to as well before you stepped back in the driveway, waving as they drove off.

You turned your heel around the second the car was far enough, looking at Sirius who was leaning casually on the door frame of the front door.

“What?” he asked, but you knew that he was already aware of what the look meant.

You reached him as you entered the small house. “Do you use magic whenever you’re reading books to Esther?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“No, absolutely not.” 

You raised an eyebrow, in which Sirius finally grinned. 

“Okay, maybe sometimes.” He yielded. “But I promise, it’s all harmless. I just make the drawings move and run around her bedroom.”

“You…” a sigh escaped your mouth at his statement, “you make the drawings move? And, and run?”

He nodded. “It’s a simple charm, really. Makes Esther all excited too. Sometimes she even requests that I make them life sized so she could play with them.”

“Is that even allowed?”

“Well, she’s a kid, so I reckon she’d blame it to her imagination if she ever does remember this in the future.” He laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh too, seeing his point yet still being in disbelief at the reality of all of this. You were never that weirded out by magic—in fact, you were amazed by the existence of it—but as someone who grew up with completely mundane stuff, you still couldn’t grasp its possibility and how casual Sirius was whenever the topic arose.

“You’re lucky she adores you, Sirius,” you told him, laughing and shaking your head. “If not, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself out of this one.”

The grin was still on his mouth as he gently hauled you closer to him. “What can I say? My charisma is universal.”

“I think I beg to differ.” 

“Oh, are you saying that it doesn’t work on you? You haven’t fallen for my irresistible allure yet?”

“And if I were to say no?”

He kissed you, slow and lingering, enough to make your head spin a bit at how his lips moved with cognizance of what you liked. When he pulled back, he flashed you a rakish smirk that had you weak in the knees.

“Then I’ll have to change that. Can’t have Esther’s gorgeous mother not fall for me, can’t we?”

“You’ll survive.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Another kiss. You grinned at how you could feel the intent behind the gesture.

“But seriously,” you pulled back momentarily to look him deeply in the eyes, “thanks for being there for Esther. I appreciate how you make her laugh and all. I can see that she likes being with you.”

He smiled in response. It was sincere and warm, a side of him that you have come to witness and love for the past months. “No need to thank me, darling. The kid isn’t hard to adore either. I’d say I’m honored to be part of her life.”

You continued to gaze at Sirius, his words making you feel fuzzy and gooey inside. You never thought you’d get to this point of yours and his relationship. You always assumed that he was going to get tired one way or another, or perhaps realize that dating a single mother was not for him, but here he was, smitten with you and treating your daughter as if she was his own.

“Fine, I’ll take it back.” You slyly pulled the collar of his shirt down so you could be the one to kiss him, Sirius smirking against you as you did. “Maybe I’m not immune to your irresistible allure after all.”

He laughed, the beat of his heart syncing with yours. 

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[bamgyuuuri]

May I request a Beomgyu x alt singer!reader?

Kai finally forms the band he’s been dreaming of and introduces his friend group(txt) to the band members before a gig. I’ve rarely seen fics that have the reader as the alt band member, normally it’s the other way around and I think you’d do great with this scenario!! It being in Gyu’s pov would be great to see his reaction/attraction to her. The piercings and dark tones, similar to ox1=lovesong gyu. Thank you!!!🖤 absolutely love your writing style

Sorry that this is long or doesn’t make sense😭

⸝⸝ she plays bass ┈ cbg.

⸝⸝ now playing : she plays bass - beabadoobee

pairings and tags. altsinger!reader x admirer!beomgyu. love at first sight . beomgyu is absolutely and hilariously whipped . meet-cute . band shenanigans . underground music scene-esque

word count. 4.3k

short note! HIII AAAA thank you so much for this req omg im so sorry this took so so long <////3 i hope this is to your liking !!! i tried a little something different for the way i wrote this too so please do lmk what you think ~~

alt!reader, clad in a ripped mesh top over a cropped band tee, her plaid skirt layered over fishnet tights, heavy platform boots clicking against the pavement. silver rings adorned her fingers, chunky chains around her neck, an eyebrow piercing glinting under the dim venue lights. 

kai caught sight of her immediately, eyes widening as if he had just discovered a hidden gem. without hesitation, he strode over, curiosity buzzing in his voice as he asked, “do you play anything? sing, maybe? my band needs someone like you.”

alt!reader, who, despite the intimidating dark makeup and sharp aesthetic, grinned so brightly it made kai blink. oh, he thought. she’s cute. “ah, i can sing, and i play bass too!” she said, her voice laced with excitement. kai nearly whooped, clapping his hands together before grabbing her arm. “you’re in. no take-backs.”

alt!reader, who showed up to their first rehearsal with her bass slung over her shoulder, the strap decorated with a mix of pins—some band logos, some just random little trinkets that probably had stories behind them. kai had expected her to be more reserved, but she fit in immediately, laughing with the drummer within minutes, teasing him about his tempo.

“it’s supposed to sound like a heartbeat, not like you’re summoning a demon,” she quipped, smirking.

the lead guitarist snorted. “talk big, but let’s see if you can actually play, rockstar.”

she did. and she was good.

but then she sang.

and suddenly, good wasn’t the right word anymore.

her voice was rich, effortlessly smooth, with this raw, husky edge that sent chills down their spines. it wasn’t just strong—it was soulful, the kind that lingered, that made you feel every note deep in your chest. the moment she opened her mouth, the energy in the room shifted, the air growing heavier with something indescribable.

the drummer, who had been leaning against his kit with arms crossed, straightened. the lead guitarist, mid-strum, fumbled a chord, eyes snapping up to her like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. and kai—kai just grinned, wide and triumphant, as if he had struck gold.

“holy shit,” the drummer breathed.

alt!reader, who didn’t even seem to realize the way she had just stunned them into silence, finished the verse with an easy smile. “was that okay?”

“okay?” kai sputtered, half-laughing. “you just obliterated us.”

the days leading up to their first gig blurred into a whirlwind of rehearsals, late-night music discussions, and endless inside jokes. kai was quick to text alt!reader memes about bassists getting overshadowed (she always replied with a dramatic “T_T”), the lead guitarist gave her pointers on performing, and the drummer—grudgingly impressed—finally admitted, “okay, you might actually be cooler than kai.”

alt!reader, who always showed up in some new variation of her signature look—some days it was a shredded fishnet top over a vintage band tee, other days a plaid mini skirt with safety pins fastened haphazardly along the hem. her accessories were never the same, either; she rotated between spiked chokers, stacked silver chains, and chunky bracelets that clanked against her bass when she played. kai couldn’t help but wonder if she had an endless wardrobe of ripped tights and combat boots.

but the biggest contradiction? she was sweet. unbearably sweet.

despite her sharp eyeliner and leather jackets, she was the kind of person who brought snacks to practice without being asked, stuffing a bag of candy into kai’s hands with a nonchalant, “figured you’d forget to eat.” she’d send good morning texts in the group chat, complete with emojis, and gave the drummer a comforting pat on the back whenever he got frustrated with a beat.

alt!reader would chew on the end of her guitar pick when thinking, doodle song lyrics in the margins of her notebook (sometimes with tiny, smiling doodles beside them), and could never say no when an other band member complained about carrying equipment. “fine, fine, i got it,” she’d sigh, dramatically rolling her eyes—but then she’d take the amp without hesitation.

“you do realize you’re ruining your entire intimidating vibe, right?” kai teased once, watching her tie up the drummer’s shoelace because he hadn’t noticed it was undone.

“what vibe?” she blinked, tilting her head.

kai simply sighed. this girl has no idea how cool she is.

then the night of the gig arrived.

the venue buzzed with anticipation, the walls lined with stickers and scrawled signatures from past performers. neon lights flickered overhead, casting a hazy glow against the graffiti-splattered walls. kai could hear the low murmur of the crowd beyond the stage, the occasional burst of laughter, the clinking of drinks against sticky counters.

backstage, their small green room was packed with an energy that was half excitement, half nerves. the drummer tapped an anxious rhythm against his thigh, the lead guitarist double-checked his tuning for what had to be the fifth time, and kai, keyboardist extraordinaire, paced the length of the room with his hands clasped together like he was deep in prayer.

“we’re not about to die out there,” alt!reader teased, watching kai with amusement as she lounged against the armrest of a battered couch.

kai stopped mid-pace, pointing at her. “says the person who’s been chilling like she’s about to play an after-school talent show instead of our first real gig.”

she shrugged, adjusting the strap of her bass as if she hadn’t a single care in the world. “i mean, i did say i wasn’t nervous.”

the drummer let out a low whistle. “wish i had whatever confidence potion you’re drinking.”

she grinned, offering him a fingerless-gloved fist bump. “it’s called believing in the fact that we’re actually good.”

the lead guitarist snorted. “or maybe you’re just built different.”

alt!reader, who was looking every bit the part of the effortlessly cool rockstar—shredded tights, oversized band tee slipping off one shoulder, dark lipstick slightly smudged from the hours before, silver rings gleaming against her fingers—flashed them all a knowing smile.

“a little bit of both,” she admitted.

laughter filled the room, light and easy, shaking off any last remnants of nervous tension. they were ready.

and then, as if on cue, the green room door creaked open.

kai’s friends had arrived.

soobin stepped in first, towering as usual, followed by yeonjun, who immediately scanned the room like he owned the place. taehyun was behind them, hands stuffed in his pockets, his ever-observant gaze taking in everything. and then—

beomgyu walked in.

and his entire world stopped spinning.

he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when kai had texted, come meet the band i formed! we rock!, but it definitely wasn’t this.

his breath hitched.

their bassist was stunning.

it wasn’t just the way she looked—though, god, the way she looked. the shredded tights, the chains, the band tee that hung just right, the dark kohl around her eyes that only made them more piercing. the way she was sitting, draped over the couch like she belonged there, one booted foot resting atop the coffee table, fingers idly twirling a guitar pick.

but it was more than that. it was the energy she carried, this effortless kind of presence that demanded attention without even trying.

beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat.

no, actually, it tripped over itself and fell flat on its face.

she turned then, looking up at them with a casual ease, her lips curling into the kind of smirk that should not have made his stomach flip.

“so,” she drawled, tilting her head. “you must be kai’s friends.”

her voice.

oh, he was done for.

kai gestured between them all, oblivious to the way beomgyu was currently having an out-of-body experience. “this is soobin, yeonjun, taehyun, and that one—” he pointed at beomgyu, who was still staring, still reeling—“is beomgyu.”

he was pretty sure kai said something else after that, but beomgyu didn’t hear a single word.

because she was looking right at him now, those sharp, lined eyes meeting his with an unreadable glint.

“beomgyu, huh?” she mused, and the way his name rolled off her tongue—casual, lazy, like she already had him figured out—sent an inexplicable shiver down his spine.

and then, before he could even think of how to respond, she smiled.

not the cool, knowing smirk from before. a real one. soft, warm, completely contradicting everything about the way she dressed.

beomgyu’s jaw? gone. his heart? somewhere in the floorboards. his entire existence? irreversibly altered.

he was in so much trouble.

kai’s friends settled in quickly, claiming whatever empty seats or spots against the walls they could find. the room felt even smaller now, the buzz of conversation filling the space, overlapping in a way that made it feel alive.

soobin and yeonjun hit it off with the drummer almost immediately, something about shared music tastes and mutual complaints about how kai was the most chaotic bandmate to exist. taehyun had already fallen into an easy conversation with the lead guitarist, both of them equally sharp-tongued, exchanging witty remarks like a verbal game of ping-pong.

and beomgyu?

beomgyu was barely breathing.

he had settled into a spot on the floor near the edge of the group, but god, he wasn’t really there. not fully. his body was present, sure—nodding at the right moments, chuckling when he was supposed to—but his mind?

completely occupied. by her.

she was right there, close enough that he could pick up the faint scent of something floral—unexpected, unfair, intoxicating.

she was expressive when she spoke, hands moving fluidly as she told some story about a past gig she had gone to. her rings caught the dim lighting every time her fingers moved, and beomgyu was watching, entranced, like the glint of silver was some kind of hypnotic spell.

and her laugh.

it wasn’t the kind he expected. it wasn’t sharp, or mocking, or cool and distant. it was bright. warm. the kind of laugh that made you want to lean in just to hear it again.

“beomgyu,” taehyun’s voice cut through his daze like a needle popping a soap bubble.

he blinked, realizing a second too late that everyone was looking at him now.

“huh?”

“i asked if you play anything,” alt!reader said, and beomgyu swore his brain short-circuited for a moment because she was the one talking to him now. her gaze was steady, her head slightly tilted, awaiting his response.

his mouth opened. closed. opened again.

what was the question again?

kai rolled his eyes. “he plays guitar. won’t admit he’s good, but he is.”

“oh?” her lips curled, something amused dancing behind her eyes. “a guitarist?”

beomgyu swallowed, nodding. “yeah. a little.”

her smirk deepened. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

his heart absolutely crashed into his ribcage. “here,” alt!reader said, effortlessly plucking one of the electric guitars resting nearby and holding it out to him.

beomgyu stared at it. then at her. then at it again.

“c’mon,” she urged, her voice light, teasing—but not in a mean way. there was warmth in it, in the way she smiled at him, like she actually wanted to hear him play. “i wanna see if kai’s hyping you up for nothing.”

beomgyu let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. as if. his hands moved on their own, reaching out to take the guitar, fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment. and god. her skin was warm, like she carried the heat of the stage lights in her fingertips.

“no pressure,” she added, leaning forward slightly, resting her chin on her palm. “but i will judge.”

the others laughed, but beomgyu barely processed it. because all he could focus on was the way her eyes were on him. the way her expression held something playful, but patient, like she had all the time in the world for him to start.

he cleared his throat, adjusting his grip.

he had played in front of people before. his friends, random music store employees when testing out instruments, the occasional school events.

but somehow, this felt different.

beomgyu strums a chord, testing, letting the sound hum through the air. he wasn’t even sure what he was going to play until his fingers started moving, muscle memory taking over. a riff he always fell back on, something familiar, something easy—but her expression changed the moment he started playing.

her gaze flickered to his hands, the playful challenge melting into something softer.

interest.

appreciation.

maybe even a little bit of… awe?

“oh, he’s good good,” she murmured, mostly to herself, but beomgyu caught it anyway. and he felt it—felt the way his face warmed, how his pulse picked up speed at the way she looked at him now.

he should probably focus on not messing up.

but with the way she was watching him?

it was impossible. the moment beomgyu strummed the final note, the room erupted. cheers, whistles, claps—the lead guitarist dramatically pumping his fist in the air, the drummer banging out a quick rhythm against the couch, while soobin, yeonjun, and taehyun only nods approvingly like they have known beomgyu was hiding talent all along.

“okay, okay!” kai grinned, nudging him with his elbow. “i take back all the times i’ve called you a fake musician.”

beomgyu scoffed, shaking his head, but he couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed—not when the adrenaline was still thrumming under his skin, not when his heart was still trying to steady itself after playing under her gaze.

alt!reader, who was still watching him, arms crossed, lips curled.

“i gotta say,” she mused, tilting her head, “you’ve got some serious skills.” beomgyu let out a breathy chuckle, hoping she couldn’t tell just how wrecked he was by those words alone. she extended a fist toward him, the glint of her rings catching the low light. “respect.”

he stared at it for a half-second longer than he should have before knocking his own fist against hers, ignoring the way his pulse jumped at the brief contact. “you know,” alt!reader then adds, grinning as she leaned back casually against the wall, “beomgyu could totally replace our lead guitarist. i mean, seriously, look at that performance.”

the lead guitarist nearly choked on his drink, immediately sitting up straighter, his brows furrowing in mock offense. “hey! i’m right here, you know!”

“yeah, but—” alt!reader raised a brow, teasing. “what do you even do, other than make dramatic faces during every solo?”

“i play solos!” he shot back, crossing his arms. “i’m an artist!”

“an artist? more like a drama queen.” she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him. the bickering continued, light-hearted, with alt!reader tossing sarcastic jabs and the lead guitarist firing back just as quickly. but in the middle of it all, beomgyu couldn’t hear any of it.

he was too busy basking in the compliment.

replace the lead guitarist?

her saying that?

beomgyu couldn’t help it—his heart swelled, his chest felt a little lighter. he glanced over at her, catching the way her eyes sparkled as she teased the others, the playful tilt of her head, the curve of her lips. she wasn’t just joking—she meant it, and beomgyu’s brain was absolutely swimming in that simple, perfect thought.

just as everybody was starting to get lost in the flow of their conversations, the door to the green room creaked open.

a worker, looking harried but friendly, poked her head inside, holding a clipboard in one hand. “hey, last act’s almost done,” she called, drawing everyone’s attention. “be ready to get up in five!” as the worker’s voice cut through the energy of the room, everybody’s pulse heightened. kai stood up first, stretching his arms with an exaggerated groan. “alright, let’s do this!” he said, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. his voice was already rising, bouncing off the walls, and somehow it made everything feel just a little bit lighter.

the drummer was next to move, pushing off the couch with a sharp exhale, rolling his shoulders like a boxer before a match. he cracked his knuckles one last time, shaking out his hands before turning to the lead guitarist with a lopsided smirk. “don’t mess up.”

the lead guitarist scoffed, rolling his eyes but still reaching out to bump his fist against the drummer’s. “i never mess up,” he said, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed how much he actually cared about the small exchange.

kai, ever the ringleader, ruffled the drummer’s hair out of nowhere, much to the latter’s loud protests. “alright, alright, enough of your little bromance,” he teased, dodging a half-hearted swing in retaliation. then, he clapped his hands together, the sharp sound cutting through the lingering conversation. his voice, always carrying that effortless bravado, filled the room. “you guys know what time it is.”

the energy shifted instantly.

the band members exchanged knowing grins, their movements instinctive, their roles in this pre-show ritual long established. it was a tradition at this point—one that settled nerves and locked them into the moment.

just then, soobin, taehyun, and yeonjun—who had been watching from the side—stepped forward, effortlessly blending into the moment like they belonged there too.

“don’t screw it up,” taehyun quipped, smirking as he crossed his arms.

“real motivational, thanks,” kai deadpanned, shaking his head.

soobin, who had been observing the whole thing with a thoughtful nod, finally spoke. “nah, you guys are gonna kill it.”

“obviously,” yeonjun added with a confident tilt of his head, the corners of his mouth curling into an easy grin.

“but if you do mess up,” taehyun said, lips twitching as he leaned just a little closer, “just make it look cool.”

“that’s the whole plan, actually,” the drummer joked, flexing his fingers like he was warming up for a fight.

alt!reader, who had been adjusting the strap of her bass, let out an exaggerated sigh at their antics but stepped forward anyway, shaking her head with a smile. “you guys are so ridiculous,” she mumbled, though the fondness in her voice softened the words.

the lead guitarist was the first to extend his hands, palms up, an unspoken signal.

without hesitation, the others followed suit, stacking their hands on top of his, one after the other. kai’s ring-clad fingers tapped impatiently against the back of alt!reader’s hand, the drummer squeezed just a little too tight, and the lead guitarist—ever dramatic—wiggled his fingers under the pile like he was casting a spell.

the weight of their hands felt grounding, each one a familiar presence, a quiet reminder of why they were here—why they did this in the first place.

“alright,” kai said, eyes sweeping over his bandmates. “on three.”

the anticipation buzzed in the air, thick with something unspoken—adrenaline, excitement, the kind of bond that came from sharing the same dream and chasing it together.

“one,” the drummer started, voice steady.

“two,” alt!reader followed, grinning through the static in her chest.

“three!” they all yelled at once, throwing their hands into the air.

the room erupted into laughter, but beneath it all was something steadier—a quiet understanding, a reassurance. they had each other’s backs, no matter what.

alt!reader exhaled, adjusting the hem of her oversized band tee, rolling her shoulders as she shook her arms out. the nerves were still there, humming just beneath her skin, but they didn’t weigh her down. if anything, they made her sharper, more alive.

as the others made their way toward the door, she lingered for a second, taking it all in—the dimly lit green room, the hum of the crowd growing louder beyond the walls, the faint scent of old leather and stage lights, the rush of knowing she was about to step onto that stage again. she was ready.

then, just as she turned to leave, a voice—hesitant, barely above the noise—stopped her in her tracks.

“hey.”

she turned, only to find beomgyu standing there, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket.

his heart was racing. he could feel it hammering against his ribs, beating against his throat. he had been quiet the entire time, watching her, completely lost in the way she carried herself—unshaken, unwavering, effortlessly cool in a way that made his head spin.

she looked at him expectantly, tilting her head ever so slightly, her dark lipstick still slightly smudged, her rings glinting under the low, flickering light. she had been grinning and teasing all night, but right now, in this moment, she was just waiting for whatever he was about to say.

beomgyu swallowed hard, summoning every last ounce of courage he had left.

“good… good luck,” he managed, voice steady but soft.

she blinked, then her expression melted into something warm, something that made the corners of her eyes crinkle just slightly.

“thanks,” she said, and god, he wasn’t ready for the way she smiled at him—the way her eyes lingered, just for a second, like she actually cared that he was here. like she saw him.

then, before he could even think to respond, she lifted a hand and ruffled his hair—just once, quick but impossibly gentle—before slipping out the door to join the others.

beomgyu stood there, rooted to the spot, his pulse thundering in his ears.

he barely registered kai’s voice shouting something from the hallway, barely noticed the way the door swung shut behind her. all he could focus on was the ghost of her touch lingering at the crown of his head and the realization that he had never, in his entire life, been this enamored.

as soon as everybody went on their separate ways as they went up, the venue was alive. the air was thick with anticipation, humming with the restless energy of a crowd on the verge of something explosive. voices mingled in excited murmurs, some impatiently tapping their feet, others already pushing closer to the front, eager to be swallowed by the music when it finally began.

near the back, beomgyu stood with the rest, the four of them tucked just far enough from the densest part of the crowd to have a clear view of the stage. the dim, pulsing lights painted streaks of color over their faces, their shadows stretching long over the worn wooden floors.

beomgyu felt… off-kilter. antsy in a way he couldn’t quite explain. his fingers twitched in his jacket pockets, his pulse thrumming just a little too fast for comfort. it wasn’t nerves—he wasn’t even performing—but something in the air had his senses on high alert.

then, the lights dimmed.

the restless chatter of the audience dipped for half a breath.

and that’s when she walked out.

alt!reader stepped onto the stage like she owned it, her movements easy, effortless—like the weight of all those expectant eyes on her meant nothing. she rolled her shoulders once, adjusting the strap of her bass where it hung low against her hip, her rings flashing under the stage lights.

and then she looked up.

gone was the dull hum of anticipation—replaced instead by something sharp, something immediate.

a ripple of recognition moved through the crowd, people cheering before a single note had even been played. the atmosphere cracked like static before a storm.

she brought a hand up to her mic, tilting her head slightly, her lips curling into something slow, something knowing.

then, her voice—low, teasing, brimming with something electric—cut through the charged silence like a blade.

“are you ready?”

it wasn’t a question, no—it was pure energy, poured into a few simple words, and it sent a shockwave through the venue.

and the response was immediate.

the crowd roared, bodies surging forward, hands shooting into the air.

soobin let out a low whistle. yeonjun muttered something under his breath that was lost beneath the chaos. taehyun just grinned, watching it all unfold with the kind of amused knowing that made beomgyu’s stomach twist.

the band shifted behind her, instruments poised, breaths held.

a pause.

then—

the first note dropped like a thunderclap.

the lead guitarist’s fingers tore across the strings, unleashing a riff so sharp it felt like it could cut through bone. the drummer came in a split second later, slamming into the rhythm like he was trying to break through the sound barrier, the bass kicking in with a force that rattled the floor beneath their feet.

the room exploded.

but beomgyu barely noticed.

because the second the music surged to life, alt!reader moved.

her head tilted back, her eyes fluttering shut for half a breath—

and then she sang.

beomgyu’s entire world tilted.

his breath caught.

his pulse stuttered.

he hadn’t known.

through all the moments he had spent watching her—through the teasing remarks, the playful bickering, the easy grins and sharp-witted comebacks—he had never once considered the possibility—

that she was the vocalist.

and god, her voice.

raw. powerful. brimming with something deep, something primal.

it wasn’t just singing.

it was commanding.

it was a reckoning. a tidal wave of sound crashing over the room, leaving no space for escape—only surrender. it seized every breath, every heartbeat, wrapped around every single person in the audience like invisible chains, commanding their attention, demanding devotion.

she owned this space.

no, she was this space.

the music didn’t just belong to her—it was her. every note, every breath, every aching pause was something pulled straight from her veins, something raw and untamed, something alive. she wasn’t just singing it—she was unleashing it. becoming it. burning with it.

“heol,” soobin breathed, his eyes wide.

yeonjun turned to taehyun, nudging him with his elbow. “man, he’s so done for.”

taehyun just chuckled, not even bothering to hide his knowing smirk.

“oh, yeah,” he muttered. “completely wrecked.”

beomgyu barely heard them.

he was too busy staring, completely, utterly spellbound.

because she was glowing under the stage lights, radiating something untouchable, something electric—

and beomgyu?

beomgyu was completely and utterly doomed.

꒰🧸꒱ @pagelets, @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia , @frankghgr, @dawngyu, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @sxmmerberries, @napipope-ta, @bamgeutori, @xylatox, @hyunj00 <3 (click here if you would like to be added ><)

[jilyawards]

January

Now Everybody-- (completed, 4.6k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“He’s a muggleborn too, I think that’s why she likes him,” James says, now talking to no one but himself and the ceiling. “He listens to all the same muggle music, watches films… they probably go do cool muggle things like fairs and refrigerators… ride airplanes…” “Mate, I don’t think you do a refrigerator.” James ignores him, barreling onwards. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck here, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin was on my bloody arm like a fool.”

there's no place like home for the holidays (completed, 36,7k) by @thejilyship. Rated T.

Christmastime is hard. ~Lily~ Lily's life has recently exploded. She has moved twice in the last two months, broken up with a man she had thought she was going to marry, and is currently headed home to go to her sister's Christmas time wedding alone. Even though she and her sister argued over giving Lily a plus one quite explosively. And now she's got an asshole neighbor who basically shoved her down the stairs. ~James~ James has been in love with Marlene McKinnon since he was eleven. She has absolutely no interest in him, and his friends have tried just about everything they can think of to dissuade him from pinning for her. And his parents won't stop setting him up with their friends grandchildren. Because they're old and they think James needs help. What if someone were to assume that the two of them were dating when they're spotted in the airport together? What if they didn't correct them? What if they used their easy chemistry and proximity to make Christmastime that much easier for the both of them?

the road not taken (looks real good now) (completed, 3.2k) by @emmathecasualauthor. Not rated.

He blinks, forcing himself to focus, but it's all there in his mind, like it’s happening again. Or: James sees Lily at a bookshop in muggle London

keep pace (completed, 8.6k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice light, “is this a thing you do? Invite girls to kill themselves on a run after you find them crying. Or am I special?” Sirius laughs. It’s a sharp sound, almost surprised, but it makes her stomach loosen. “You’re special,” he says dryly, finally turning to look at her properly. He watches her for a beat longer than she expects, like he’s searching for something in her face—some answer she doesn’t know how to give. Whatever it is, he seems to find it.

The One Sharp, Tangible Thing (completed, 2.2k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“It’s horrid for you, you know.” “No worries–I do loads of things that are bad for me,” he smirks. “Oh? Like what?” He falters, the rushing stream of banter getting interrupted by a fork in the river. Maybe she is imagining it, but she sees the words start to form on his lips. Fancying you. 

White Winter Hymnals (completed, 16k) by @tedwardremus. Rated G.

Holiday themed jily snippets from age eleven to adulthood

Afterglow (completed, 1.3k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

A soft silence falls over them, strangely comfortable given the circumstances. She can feel his heartbeat against her forearm, a defiant thump thump thump that serves as a reminder that yes, you are in his bed with his hand over your body and his face unreasonably close to yours.

At Least I'm Gonna Say That I Tried (completed, 5.8k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“Call me what you want, Evans. I deserve it,” he pants, “But then I’m going to need you to make my Christmas wish come true a few more times because – Merlin– I’ll do anything for it.”

Betting on It (completed, 700 words) by @chierafied. Rated T.

If Lily hadn’t downed those last two tequila shots, she might’ve wondered how she ended up here: squinting at the cards she’d been dealt while sneaking appreciative glances at the very impressive set of abs.

Bad Egg (completed, 1.1k) by @annabtg. Rated G.

Lily's greatest fear lurks on the breakfast table.

Eternal Recurrence (WIP, 15.6k as of 31 Jan 2025) by @girlhoodpostmortem. Not rated.

"This was always going to happen. She’s been dead since the beginning." - The Oresteia A Marauders fic inspired by The Book Thief by Markus Zusak/inspired by a textpost by @pomegranateroot15 on Tumblr.

November/December recs available HERE!

[muhlsworld]

WHAT ARE WE?

synopsis: bumping into nika at that party did not go the way you expected.

WARNINGS: this is a part two to my previous fic, suggestive themes (no smut), cussing, italics are flashbacks, one use of y/n (sorry), yet again bad writing

it had been 3 weeks since the party. and you didn’t know why you did what you did. it was all such a blur.

“nika?” you asked.

she looked at you and her eyes went wide.

“y/n?” “what are you doing here?” nika asked in complete shock. you were in complete shock as well to even register her questions. your mind was in a frenzy. you couldn’t believe that she was in front of you. your nika. “are you okay?” nika asked, with what someone could confuse with genuine concern, again. and with that question something in you snapped.

“am i okay?” you repeated. “are you fucking kidding me nika?” you asked, your tone laced with anger and disbelief. nika looked at you wide eyed never hearing you speak to her like that.

“hey, are you ready for practice?” lily asked ripping you from your thoughts. lily had become somewhat of your rock these past few weeks. bonding during practice and spending most of your free time with her. although she doesn’t really know what happened that night or why you’ve been acting “off”.

“yeah. just need to grab my racquets.” you replied. “great, let’s get this practice over with so we can go eat.” lily said. you laughed slightly thinking how such a small girl could eat so much. “okay okay i’m going” you replied.

practice was over, it went okay. your shots weren’t as accurate as they normally are. your shots not having the normal amount of power. you weren’t surprised.. your mind was else where. the memory replaying through the whole practice.

“why nika?” you asked after her not answering you beforehand. she stayed silent yet again. your frustration bubbling every passing second. after a few moments of silence you grew tired of her not speaking. “fine i don’t need this right now nika. don’t bother talking to me” you exclaimed.

right as you were turning around to walk away back to your friends, you felt her grab your wrist. you turn around to tell her off but she cuts you off. “wait please, just let me explain” she sighs. “just not here.” she says and you look at her confused. but before you could say anything shes dragging you by the wrist throughout the frat house. “nika where the hell are you taking me” you asked her not wanting to be around her for any longer. without answering you she pulled you into an empty bedroom.

“look i know i have a lot to explain to you and i will just please hear me out” she pleaded. you look at her with a harsh look. a look you’ve never given her. fed up with everything about the night you say “you have 5 minutes muhl, better start talking.”

“i know what i did was wrong, just ghosting and completely cutting you out of my life like that. i regretted it every day. i still do” nika explained. there was something in her eyes that made it seem like she was telling the truth. but you just couldn’t believe her.

“then why nika?” you asked sounding more defeated this time. “did i really mean nothing to you, for you to cut me out like that.” all the emotion being evident in your voice. nikas heart was breaking at the sight that she caused. “i panicked.” nika answered. “what could have been so bad that you couldn’t tell your so call best friend.” you exclaimed. “you know i would’ve helped you through whatever it was.” you said while looking at her straight in the eyes. however she didn’t look at you, she was twiddling her thumbs around one another. something she used to do many years ago when she was nervous.

“because then i would’ve had to face my feelings for you.” nika whispered. almost quiet enough for you to not hear her.

almost.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts yet again but by your coach this time. “what’s going on kid?” he asked you. “you looked off out there today. is there something i should know about?” he asked immediately after the first question. “no i’m good coach.” you said with confidence.. or so you thought but he looked at you skeptically. “i’m just tired, i swear.” you said. and apparently that was convincing enough for him to leave you alone.

after that somewhat annoying conversation with your coach you opted to going to lunch with your teammates. you all had unanimously decided on chipotle, your guys favorite. you all enjoyed your meal talking about nonsense. and for a moment you felt back to normal. your normal without nika clouding your thoughts.

once your lunch was over every one had split up stating how they each had their own things to do for the rest of the day. you only had a self workout and some homework to finish for a class. so you went back to your dorm room, deciding to work out later on in the day.

the whole afternoon had gone by, it was around 8:30 pm, you were in your dorm finishing your homework. scratch that, you were trying to finish your homework. but a certain burnett kept sneaking back into your thoughts.

“your feelings for me?” you repeated almost sounding hopeful. “yes.” nika replied simply. “what do you mean?”you asked instantly. with a deep sigh nika replied “i loved you. and i didn’t know what to do with those feelings. so i did what i could and i ran from you.” you stared at her with a blank expression. your mind running at a thousand miles per minute. you stayed silent for a few minutes. the tension in the room growing. “please say someth-“ nika way saying until you cut her off, placing your lips on hers for a brief second. “you dumbass i loved you too” you stated like it was obvious.

and with those words it was like something switched within nika. she closed the distance between you two again but this time the kiss was more meaningful and deeper, you replied instantly kissing her back. but the kiss grew hungrier. you both grew hungrier for each other. your tongues dancing with each other and saliva mixing together.

nikas hands rested on your waist and you were getting impatient. so you removed your hands from around her neck and placed atop hers, slowly guiding them to your ass and slightly squeezing over her hands. you moaned softly into her mouth and that was music to her ears. she wanted to hear you even more. so with that she moved you two to the bed.

the sound of skin slapping together echoed throughout the whole room. both of you without a single worry in this moment. it was what you had always wanted with nika. your bodies tangled together.

you snap out of your own thoughts not wanting to relive the rest of the memory of that night.

since homework seemed to be out of the window. you decided to finally go do your workout. so with that you decided to get ready. it didn’t take you long to get ready, you opted for a simpler and comfier outfit. and with that you leave your dorm.

you make it to the gym and start your workout. with the music blasting in your ears you didn’t even hear someone walk into the gym. continuing to mind your own business you go on with your workout. but you feel someone staring at you so you take your headphones out and turn around. and that same feeling from years ago and the same one from the party hits you again.

there she is again. staring right at you.

you guys hadn’t talked about what happened that night. so you thought now would be a good a time as any. seeing as you two were alone. you walk up to her “hi.” you said. “hey” she replied coldly. you looked confused as you why she was being this way after what happened. but you let it slide as you were about to talk to her about it anyway.

right as you were about to speak the door to the gym opens and this guy walks in and starts approaching you guys. you were confused as ever, but what you didn’t see was nikas panicked face. he comes up right beside nika and places an arm around her waist and kisses her cheek. you were completely dumbfounded at what was going on. and then he spoke. “hey babe, did you start without me?” he asked.

and then it clicked. why you guys hadn’t spoken about what happened 3 weeks ago.

nika had a boyfriend.

and you had no idea.

A/N: okay so i really don’t know where im going with this or if im even making a part 3 to this but if you guys want it then ill post it.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 11 - More Then Friends

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: mentions of blood, its all fluff.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

Price, Ghost and Gaz left first. Leaving before the sun was up in a somewhat hectic rush. Their plan was to get over the border then commandeer a car or something. Price said it could be a few days before you hear from them but they will send word. 

Soap sulked down the stairs an hour or so later, when the sun was just peaking through the clouds. You can’t wait to leave here and never come back. The whole blood soaked place can burn to the ground for all you care.

“They left already.” You say as he comes to sit on the sofa next to you.

“I know. Si- Ghost came to say bye.” He shuffles on the couch rubbing his burnt arm. You’ll need to change the dressing before you leave. “We should get going soon. We need to get a car. It’s easier to do while it’s still dark out.” 

You follow Soap’s orders in silence, the lack of sleep is finally catching up with you. You change the dressing as Soap grits his teeth complaining about itching. You have no idea if it’s healing or if its still supposed to look the way it does. It’s only been a day or so anyway. 

When you’re done Soap steals some supplies- mostly food -from the safehouse and you set out to look for a vehicle. It doesn’t take you long to find a rather old looking car, you keep an eye out while Soap hotwires it like he’s done this a thousand times. Before you know it you’re on the road driving back to Sakhra.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asks after at least an hour of silence, you were starting to doze off. His question jolts you awake and you look over at him. 

“Why did you kiss me?” You ask. He smiles.

“I just had to, you’re stunning lass.” He says, it makes you blush. You turn to look out the window of the car. 

“Don’t falter me, a few days ago you would have put a bullet in my head.” 

“Yeah, we’re not merciless killers though.” You scoff, they’re soldiers, they're trained killers. You sit there in silence. 

“You’re a good kisser.” He says suddenly. 

“What- I mean. It was just a kiss.” You say feeling embarrassed, he just laughs. That annoys you, he’s being so chill about it, what if Price found out? What if he finds out then decides you’re a liability?

“You all seem close.” You say trying to move the subject on from you and Johnny. 

“Closer than you think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“We’re a close unit. Worked together for years. When you spend so much time together, you develop a strong relationship.” He says switching between watching the road and your expression. You have an eyebrow raised, you expected him to continue. 

“Brothers in arms right?” You say, you’ve heard that before from soldiers.

“More than that.” You shake your head scoffing. He’s playing with you, trying to wind you up. What's closer than brothers? 

“You fucking each other or somthing.” You joke back. He doesn’t say anything, you turn back to look at him frowning. He’s just smiling, the cheekiest grin you think you’ve ever seen. “Really? You’re messing with me.” He just laughs, it doesn’t help you decide if he’s joking or not.

You let out a sigh looking out at the winding road. You’re not far now.

____

When you make it back to the ULF base the place is almost empty. You both head straight to the doctor who fixes your stitches and tends to Soap’s arm as well as giving him a pot of burn cream and instructions. 

When you’re done you both go to see Farah. Alex is with her, they both look tired. The table is filled with maps dotted with big red X’s. You look round as Soap catches them up on what happened. You wonder if Price has sent word yet, you hope they’re okay.

“-We take out Konni, before they make it any further south.” Farah says, you look over at them, catching the end of the conversation. 

“We don’t know if Konni are moving or not. Price will be able to give us some idea.” Soap says.

“We could be waiting days for that.” Alex says crossing his arms, he doesn’t have a sling anymore, maybe his arm was just sprained.

“They attacked their own bases?” You ask pointing at the map. 

“They want to shift the blame to us.” Farah says.

“The fact they used American weapons on civilians has got the US all wound up.” Alex says.

“They’re spreading us thin, I’ve already lost 20 men. We can’t fight them on the front without leaving ourselves open to attacks.” Farah sighs.

“You have weapons from the US, why not fight back?” You ask. There’s silence, people look around at you like you’ve just asked them to do something impossible. 

“If we fire on them we lose our advantage.” She says.

“Which is?” Soap asks.

“If the Americans come, they won’t be after us.” She says. You look down at the map, the new line Al Qatala have formed. There’s no news if Konni or Al Qatala forces have made a move from the border, it seems like they’re waiting for the ULF to make a move first. 

It’s too many targets for Farah to handle alone. 

“What about hitting them at the source? Take out the rest of their weapons.” You say pointing at the farm you know they’ve been storing munitions and rockets.

“They were fired from Russia.” Alex said.

“No, they were fired from inside the country. I bet if it's going to be anywhere it’s there.” You tap the map. Farah and Alex look at eachother. 

“A full scale raid is not possible.” She says, stepping back from the table.

“We could go in quiet.” Soap says. “Just the 4 of us.” 

“The place will be heavily guarded. They could have also moved them elsewhere.” Farah says.

“Even if we don’t find the missiles we will deal a pretty big blow to their resources.” Soap says. “You need all the help you can get.” 

“Okay. Tonight, you should get some rest.” Farah says. Soap smiles at her and Alex. He grabs your arm gently pulling you out of the room. You’re heading down to the sleeping quarters before Soap grabs your arm pulling you into a store room. 

“Hey!” You call, you almost trip over something as his hands grab your shoulders and he pushes you up against the wall. Before you have a chance to say anything his lips lock onto yours. His kiss is needy, his tongue pressing into your mouth. You hum, closing your eyes and letting your hands drop to his waist. 

“Johnny.” You breathe as he pulls his lips off you, his mouth moving to your neck. His hands 

“What?” He asks, he’s not stopping though, running his tongue up your neck.

“What if Price found out?” 

“What do you mean?” He says. “Want him to join, I reckon he’ll be down for that.” He chuckles, now you’re convinced he's winding you up. You push your hands up his shirt and he grip your waist, his fingers digging into your skin, you’re sure he’ll be leaving marks. You run your fingers up his chest, feeling each muscle and scar. He’s hairy, you don’t care, now you’re getting needy, his lips running over you sucking on the sensitive spots on your neck. 

He looks up down at you, his hands come to hold your face. “I’m so glad I got you first. I thought I was going to have to fight off Gaz, or Price.” You frown at him but before you can press him further he kisses you. You drop your hands from his chest, gripping his waist and pulling him closer to you. 

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door. You freeze, you didn’t think anyone knew you were in here.

“Soap? There’s word from Price.” it’s Alex’s voice. Johnny smiles down at you.

“We’ll finish this later.” He says quietly before reaching over to open the door. You feel yourself blushing as Alex raises an eye at you both. Johnny slaps him on the shoulder and they walk away.

Banners by plum98

[ameliathornromance]

The Other Woman - Final Part

A/N: Here’s part three! I know you guys wanted to know what happened to the Guard’s wife so here it is; This will also be the last part I do for this series as I’ve got a ton of other ideas and I’d like to work on those as well. Anyway, enjoy the last part!

Since you’d left the Palace in the Human populated area, time went by in a whirlwind.

Your wedding with the Lord had happened quickly after leaving and was one of the prettiest events the whole forest – and some humans – had ever seen.

The Fae Lord had been delighted to invite and meet the rest of your family. He and your father seemed to get along swimmingly already, and greeted each other like they were old friends when your families carriage arrived in the forest.

Later that evening, after catching up with your family and entertaining them the whole day, you had asked the Fae Lord something that had been on your mind for the day, “how and when did you meet my father?”

It had evaded you how he had asked your father for your hand, and it hadn’t occurred to you to ask your Fiance until today.

The Fae Lord gave his signature grin as he raised a tea cup to his lips, “I actually met him the night I said I wanted to help you.” He explained, “your father was in a pub and I had snuck out to go and do some late night drinking. He was there and we just hit it off.” The Lord set his cup down on its saucer and frowned. “Although, it wasn’t until the next morning that I actually found out he was your father, and then had to work on my image before I asked him for your hand.”

You snorted, “yeah something tells me he wouldn’t have been happy about a drunken Fae asking for my hand in marriage after you’d been out with him the previous night.”

Soon, your wares and personal items began to arrive from the Palace and amongst them, were all the presents that the King’s Guard had gifted you. They had been thrown into one of your many jewellery boxes, the necklaces tangled together with the many bracelets that the Orc had gifted you.

They felt dirty, wrong to even look at now, felt tarnished and rusted with sin as you ran your thumb over the smooth gold.

Of course, you wouldn’t dream of wearing them, but you also couldn’t stand to just throw them away. Many other people who were less fortunate than you could benefit from the money that these items cost… but the thought of giving the people evidence of adultery filled you with dread, made your stomach churn with anxiety.

You explained your complicated feelings to your fiance one morning at breakfast.

He listened intently, before suggesting, “why don’t you send them to King’s Guards’ wife?”

Your blood turned cold at the thought. “Isn’t that a bit… callous?” You asked. “For her I mean. She’s probably had the baby now, and isn’t in much of a situation to leave him if she wanted… That and then everyone would know what happened between me and her husband.”

“Not necessarily.” Your fiance said, raising a finger. He leaned his elbows on the breakfast table and pointed at you, “it doesn’t have to be done in bad taste. If you send her the jewellery and offer her a position here, with better pay and better accommodation, she may just come here and decide to work for us.”

“But what if she’s angry with me?” You asked, worriedly. “That would be such an insult to her! I don’t want to do anything to make her even more angry than she would already be with me.”

The Fae Lord pursed his lips, furrowing his eyebrows. “You didn’t know he was married did you?” He asked you.

“No, of course not!”

“And you stopped the affair after you found out, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did it!” You groaned.

The Fae took your hand in his, “look, you can’t control her reaction,” he said, plainly. “But, what you can do, is offer her compensation for the emotional damage she would feel from finding out. That’s why you would be offering her the job. She would be moved away from her husband, she gets better pay than she did at the Palace and her child gets to grow up in a place surrounded by greenery.” He gestured to the castle around him.

You stared at the polished wooden table in front of you. “But… what if she tells everyone that I had an affair with him?” You whispered. “I’d be ruined, and then we wouldn’t be able to marry, and then there’s my parents-”

“It would look worse on her.” The Lord said, “Of course, it’s bad that her husband had the affair, but she would be looked down on as an Orc, for trying to slander a person of the aristocracy.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “And I’ll be here to protect you, won’t I? I’ll make sure none of that does anything to stop us from being together. I promise.”

Now that you had gained some distance from the Palace you had contemplated on confessing everything to the Orc’s wife. She didn’t deserve to be stuck in that kind of situation, after all, it’s not like she did anything to warrant such an awful partner.

And so, with shaking hands and a clumsily written letter, you sent off the jewellery to the Palace and to the Orc’s wife.

The weeks after it had been sent off were like waiting on a jury verdict. Every morning you awoke in your bedroom, you expected the Fae servants attending you, to give you dirty looks or treat you coldly, as the news of you being a homewrecker, had spread through out the Kingdom and Forest.

And every morning, when that didn’t happen, you couldn’t help but sigh with relief – prompting some very concerned questions from your attendants.

You did your best to explain in the letter what had actually happened between you and the King’s Guard, and only hoped that his wife would be understanding.

You didn’t expect to be forgiven, but for her to understand would be more than enough.

What you didn’t expect however, was in the mid-afternoon when you were going over some favour colour choices for your wedding, that a Fae woman would burst into your office, panting. “Orc- woman-” she breathed, “demands to see- my Lady-”

You’d never abandoned an activity faster. Shoeing away the woman who’d brought you the favour colours, you asked the Fae, “where? Where is she?”

The Fae hoarsed out something about the Orc woman being in the gardens.

You practically dashed through the halls, leaving your own servants and the dignified stride of a Lady behind as you rushed for the gardens.

Finally, you reached the garden doors. They were tall, beautiful things, made of hard oak wood and harden sap panels for windows that swirled and curled, obscuring anyone from peering into the gardens.

As you reached for the twig door handles, you stopped just short of them.

Did you really want to see this Orc? Who was probably so angry with you, she might bite your head off?

It’s not like you could turn back now, after all, she’s right behind those crystal doors in front of you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you flung the doors open and stepped outside into the gardens.

You didn’t have to go far to find her.

The Orc Lady who you had seen in the kitchens, time and time again, with her kind smile and kind tone, was gone.

Instead, the Orc Lady stood with a suitcase in hand, a baby glued to her chest with a fabric cloth. The infant slept soundly, without any kind of inclination of what was going on.

Your stomach twisted as you recognised some of King’s Guards’ features on its face.

After a moment of silence, the Orc snarled at you. “Is it really true?” Her voice was as deep as thunder, full of murderous intent.

Pursing your lips, you lowered your head. There wasn’t anything that you could say or do to make this any better.

When you were thinking through your revenge plans, you truly had no idea whether or not you ought to tell the Guards wife. She was already going to be under enough stress as it was, seeing as she had to give birth to a baby in – what you judged to be at the time – a few weeks.

Adding a cheating husband to the mix, you determined, would do nothing to help her out.

When you said nothing, the Orc threw her suitcase at your feet. The jewellery you sent her exploded out of the case, scattered across the grass at your feet. “And you didn’t think to tell me!?” She shouted.

You kept quiet, staring at the collection of gold and silver at your feet.

“How dare you keep this from me!” She bellowed, “what did I do to deserve that being kept from me?! Did I wrong you in some way, (Y/N)?!”

Swallowing hard, you raised your head to look at her. “No.” You said, bravely. “You didn’t do anything… I was trying to think of your baby and your wellbeing-”

“And taking care of my wellbeing is keeping quiet about my cheating son of a bitch husband!?” She bellowed. She pointed a thick green finger at you, “that is not your decision to make!” She hissed.

“Well what was I supposed to do?!” You retorted. Kicking away the valuables, you approached her, “it’s not like I could out him for what he was! That would have ruined everything for me and you too! How would I know you wouldn’t do the same thing to me!?”

“Because I thought we were friends!” She snapped back.

You recoiled at her words. Friends?

The Orc’s chest heaved up and down as she rubbed her face, “I know that we weren’t exactly the closest of people,” she said, “but you were the only one who would come to the kitchens to purposefully see me. I liked having you around, (Y/N) and it broke my heart when… when he said I couldn’t tell anyone I was pregnant.” Taking her hands away from her face, she wiped her nose. “So I couldn’t see you anymore, or tell you. And I know that you didn’t know I was married, I can forgive you for that… but when you did find out, not telling me about any of it?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “And only getting that package and letter? It just…” She covered her mouth and looked away from you.

You stopped halfway over to her. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something comforting, supportive. But any kind of words like that died in your throat.

“I… I’m sorry.” you settled on finally. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I should have been up front and honest with you and shouldn’t have kept that from you.” For the first time since meeting your fiance, you cursed him.

You were right to think that his idea was cold. You continued your approach and placed a hand on the Orcs shoulder, “I know I can’t do anything to fix what I’ve done or change the past of what I did. But I can try and help you now and in the future.”

The Orc looked at you, her eyes bloodshot and still swimming with tears.

“Don’t feel like you have to take the job if you don’t want it,” you said, honestly. “If you don’t want it, I’ll be happy to do anything else to compensate what you lost – Hell, I’ll even find you a better husband if you wish.”

“I never said I wasn’t taking the job.” The Orc Lady said, quickly. She turned back around to face you. She wiped her fingers across her cheeks, drying up her stray tears and then cleared her throat. “But, if I’m going to work here, I want higher pay and more time off so I can spend it with my son.”

“Higher than I already offered?” You asked, slightly offended. What you originally offered was way higher than what the Palace was offering her, at least three times the pay. And now she wants more?

The Orc Lady crossed her arms, just in front of her baby and narrowed her eyes at you.

Sighing, you lamented, “okay, okay. Higher pay then.” You supposed that she had a right to demand more of you, especially after your affair.

She gave you a weary smile at you. “Thank you my Lady.” She pursed her lips, “and… thank you for finally telling me about what happened.”

The position you’d offered your ex’s wife, was kitchen work, but this time, she was head of it. Her son – whom she had decided to name Cogak – was a bright baby, even just fresh out of the womb.

You arranged for him to have his own nanny so his mother could work without worrying about him.

The friendship you’d had with the Orc Lady wouldn’t be like it was before, but your trying to make things better, was a start.

The Fae Lord had smiled one evening as the pair of you decided on what flowers would be at your wedding venue. “I never expected an Orcling to be so intelligent.”

“Well, he is getting a noble child’s education.” You explained. “Apparently, he’s already doing better than most children his age. And that’s comparing him to the other Fae.”

The Fae chuckled as he examined a bouquet of blue orchids. “What about these for the reception?”

“What’s your suit colour?” You asked, quickly.

As if your fiance was himself a bride, he’d been very closed about what kind of suit he would be wearing to your wedding.

One time, you’d walked into his office and he squealed, and threw himself on top of the sketches his designer had come up for him, like he was a maiden who’d been walked in on while getting changed.

His closed off nature about it, only made you even more curious.

“If you think you’re going to get that out of me that easily, then I’d say this marriage isn’t going to last long, my darling.” The Fae Lord smirked as he ran his thumb over the petals of the flower.

“Patiences is a virtue. You don’t see me trying to peek at your wedding dress, do you?” He smirked, slyly. “I know it’s a human tradition, but why can’t I follow it too?”

He was right of course, he’d been incredibly respectful about your wedding dress and preferences when it came it. He was also very generous, giving you a large sum of gold to actually buy said wedding dress, “all I want is for you to be happy!” he’d said as he’d handed, three, four, five, six pouches of gold into the dressmakers hands.

The Fae Lord had given you a smile and whispered to you as he left the room, “let’s make our wedding the topic of the century!”

Although you chuckled at his words, you didn’t want to outshine the King and Queen. It would be an insult to the both of them, given that the Queen had been the one who had allowed you to become her Lady in Waiting. Without her, you wouldn’t have met the Fae Lord.

So, you decided to keep your dress modest, but elegant. It followed the traditional white, but had elements of the Fae world you would be marrying into. Little details of moss, spider web glittering on the train of your dress, while you had a golden, wreath as your tiara.

On the day of the wedding everything went smoothly.

As you started your walk down the aisle – with your father at your side, “I’m very happy you caught the eye of this Fae fellow, he’s a good time.” He had whispered as you prepared for your walk – you caught sight of your family crying tears of joy.

Your Fiance, at the other end of the aisle, seemed to outshine you as the bride.

His suit was quite the marvel, and you now understood why he didn’t want you to see it.

The dark red fabric accompanied by a rose petal cloak, contrasted with his white hair, that fell down his back, and over his shoulders like sheets of snow; He looked incredible.

After vows – with many tears – and the sealing of your union with a kiss, the whole room erupted with cheers and claps.

The reception afterwards was beautifully bright and colourful, with Fae and Humans dancing together as you and your husband sat and watched from behind the head table.

The Orc Lady’s son – who had grown surprisingly fast – was happy to be there, surrounded by people who doted on him as if he was the main celebrant of the reception.

Your Fae Lord Husband didn’t leave your side the whole night, dancing with you and bringing back the memories of when you first properly met.

The days following were hazy. You seemed to be barely lucid in that time, thanks to all the alcohol present, alongside your husband who – you had found out that night – was a clingy, emotional drunk.

“At first,” he had slurred at the reception, “I was a little worried about asking you, like,” he stared at you, his huge black eyes consuming your gaze. “You’re so beautiful and, I’m just some mud Fae,” he gestured to himself. “Who am I to ask someone like you to dance?”

You had rolled your eyes and pulled him into your arms, silencing his self-deprecating words. “No, don’t say that.” You had slurred back, “I’d have accepted even if you were a toad!”

But once the drunkenness had cleared, you’d found that you were feeling a lot more sickly than usual.

At first, you thought it was just the remainder of the alcohol finding it’s way out of your system. But when it didn’t go away after a month, you went to go and seek a physician.

And after a few tests, she confirmed to you what you had suspected: you were pregnant.

The Fae Lord was over the moon when he found out and excitedly told anyone who would listen about your pregnancy.

And now in the present, as you watched your husband natter to anyone who would listen about the names he’d thought of for your baby, you realised that you had never felt more content.

This was better than any fairy tale or romance novel that you’d ever read.

You occasionally thought about the King’s Guard, and how he was doing. But that never lasted long, as you were often pulled back into the present moment by your husband.

Who loved and cherished you more than that Orc ever could.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

If you’re not sure about signing up, I have a 7 day free trial enabled on my £2 tier so you can see if you like my work written there!

Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[euphoria-looney]

I do am curious on Palmola relationship with Princess! MC? Like she seems to be like an extremely strict mom, and doesn't show affection to MC as much. And is Palmola MC's bio mom? Like she is such asshole to her, but MC is presumably the oldest princess and has the burden to be married off, cuz of alliance and shit.

Also, I wanted this dance to happen between Princess MC and one of her friends, https://youtube.com/shorts/er1AdqCZNHE?si=Fe4D-luRQp59cDYF , just for the funny. Like, the amount of scandal, and someone thinking they connect the dots on why MC ended the engagement.

Palmola's relationship with princess!reader is very toxic and strict. When she found out that she had no talent, no magic, and really struggled with etiquette as well at the beginning, she can't help but hate her on a whole different level

As a young girl, Pamola has been trained in talent, magic, all this stuff just to get engaged to Bruce, and that has been her greatest achievement out of everything she did her whole life, not her talent, not her magic so she wanted a child that she could be proud of because every other kid had a closer connection to Bruce so when her [name] always approached her instead of Bruce, she was mad that the kid that she was stuck with admire her was the most "useless" out of all of them.

Of course, she’s had her moments that she does dote on [name] which is why the relationship is so toxic because [name] can’t help but always come back to her as she is her mom, and even when she abuses her with verbally, she just thinks about the moment whenever they did have a bonding moment and thinks to herself "that’s my mother and I love her and she is everything I wanna be in so much more."

And that is why her expectations of her were so high and once they’re so high, it is like a rock smashed into you when they are crushed, but it’s not even [name]'s fault, but she can’t comprehend that as she has strived to be everything more and it all just a hindrance to her.

She likes Serena because even if she doesn't have etiquette they can talk about similar things they enjoy and she has talent and light magic which are spoilers.

Despite what I wrote [name] is not the oldest princess she’s the youngest princess and it just fits more into Connor and Serena‘s age range (kind of) she doesn’t have to be married for an alliance, but she fell in love with Connor and everybody in the family knew that with how much she showed it and couldn’t hide it.

So whenever they had the opportunity to marry someone in the Kent family presumably Connor because he was older they didn’t wanna hand it over to Serena because they loved her. So, they chose [name] because they knew how much she liked him.

Which obviously did not go her way.

I really like the dancing scene, it will be added. It has to be. It will be like the scandal of the era because [name] was absolutely a down bad dog for Connor and so when she gave up that position so easily, and for money, many people found as suspicious for a good reason.

Now, dancing with this new person, just brings so many alarms and so much gossip to bloom

And like my last ones do tell me if there's mistakes or anything you didn't understand.

[yunazxxx]

who do you think is the roughest in katseye?

the roughest in katseye… huh lets see

i wanna start off with sophia, because she really screams that she would HEAVILY contradict her own words. let me give you an example.

lets say you and sophia were having a nice time together, but you were doing things you knew was testing her patience. sophia was known for being so patient, but here you were making her grit her teeth and try to calm down every second.

sophia had never really, you know, been pissed in front of you but here you were feeling her energy switch. she would just look at you, sophia wasn’t one to be too rough physically.

once she got you where she wanted you, thats when she’d praise you, which was normal. your body reacting to everything she said, but then she’d begin degrading you in the same sentence.

she’d do this so often because she loved mind fucking you. it was her favorite thing, seeing you getting confused, unsure whether she was serious or not about the things she’d say, calling you her “dirty slut” but in the same sentence saying you’re so beautiful.

now of course we have, megan / manon

when it comes to megan, i don’t know i feel like shes not too rough with you, but she would definitely be so smug if shes able to get you below her.

like for instance —

you two were play wrestling, or just tussling around one day and you’re on top of her, you tease her and whatnot, per usual but she gets you on your back

and then next thing you know she’s smirking and smiling about it, calling you little things like “weak” but knowing how fast you could just shut her up she enjoys it.

but for manon, hmmm —

manon doesn’t seem like she’d be rough with you, honestly i don’t know maybe its her being a cancer or just her personality in general but i don’t see her ever being rough with you??

like if she ever got rough with you, she’d feel so bad right after like her heart would start aching and everything (my baby </3)

but for lara and daniela. — now lets get lara out the way first, because

i dont know what it is with lara and marking but i feel like she’d love to give you new marks every single time.

of course if you get her to that point, she’d always make sure you’re in pain once she’s done with you but she’s also kinda like a sophia.

she’d contradict so much she says, it’ll start with “i won’t be too hard with you” and then next thing you know, you’re waking up to her smiling to you while you’re in a warm bath after you passed out.

now daniela, the one who i PERSONALLY. believe to be the roughest out of all the katz.

now theres times where she’d play around and be like, “oh i didn’t know it would hurt that bad” but wouldn’t be soft with you.

daniela loved playing the “not knowing” act, knowing she’d keep doing it continuously. loving how red your skin would get, or how much louder you are when she was harder with you.

now, when she was mad it was actually different. she wouldn’t play the whole “not knowing” role, she’d purposely hurt you and would even degrade you.

if you tried begging or crying, pleading with her, anything she’d just mock you and bring up how you ended up in this situation in the first place.

[spvcekittie]

jinx x fem chubby reader smut like first time (but sweet like a lil vanilla yk)

You’re Perfect

(border creds to @/cafekitsune)

cw. cunnilingus, reader has issues with their body, slight angst (eventful fluff) reader is f but uses they / them prns

pairings. chubby!reader / jinx

wc. 2k

MDNI 18+

thank u so much for the req! i hope i did it justice =^.^=

you’d never imagined your first time with jinx to go this way. but you soon realise you wouldn’t have it any other way; jinx’s lips on yours, coaxing soft whines and moans from your own, hips moving, slotting between your legs.

you find yourself where you are now when the two of you were having a horror movie marathon; she’d insisted the two of you have one to celebrate halloween. usually you wouldn’t cave, being far too scared of her picks, but with all hallows eve right around the corner, you figured why not. wouldn’t hurt, right?

correct!

you feel yourself jolt at the hand on your thigh, and you see jinx in your peripheral, biting on her bottom lip supposedly to suppress the smirk blooming through. you stiffen.

the two of you had never done anything before— well, that’s a lie. you’d done some stuff, some simple grinding and making out, but whenever she gets too close, too handsy, you always have to tell her no.

she obliges of course, pouting with a curt nod of her head before she settles back beside you with a flop.

you’d always felt insecure in your weight, in the rolls of your stomach, the way your arms seem just about too big to be proportionate. you’d never tell jinx this, as you know she’d just go on a whole tangent. or at least, you think.

what if she just laughs?

what if she laughs in your face, telling you that your suspicions are in fact true?

would she ever want to touch you again?

surely not.

.. does she want to touch you? or does she just feel obligated? surely she does, right? some people feel that way in relationships and jinx’s past would suggest the latter — feeling like she has to do stuff in order for praise, for people to not leave her.

surely not.

you jolt to a halt, eyes frozen and wavering on the tv. you seem to get tunnel vision with the way you stare up at the tv. jinx notices, cocking her head your way and slipping her hand down to your knee, rubbing loose circles into the skin there.

“you good?” she has her usual quip, tilting her head into your line of sight. “you’re frozen like a gargoyle—“

she giggles to herself, before your eyes meet her own. you watch the pink in her eyes shrink at the attention, pupils taking up all the space in her iris. she snaps out of whatever stupor she was in, suddenly adorning an expression of fright.

“shit, did i do something?” she gasps, flinching away from your knee like it was scalding hot. “fuck, i did something! i did something, didn’t i?”

it’s your turn to be mortified, jaw dropping as you bring your hands up, waving them in surrender in front of you. “no, nonono— you haven’t done anything, I swear,”

she blinks, once. twice. three, four times before the weight finally seems to sag from her shoulders. she lets out a breath she hadn’t realise she’d been holding, sniffling out a sharp ‘whew’.

“i just—..” you start, cringing at the way your voice cracks. should you even go there? what if she thinks you’re disgusting for thinking that way?

she seems attentive enough, and you swear if she had ears on the top of her head they’d be standing upright. she perks up, uncharacteristically straightening her usually curved back.

fuck, get over yourself, [name].

“i’m scared that maybe if we ever went further with..” you cringe, scrunching your nose as you ponder the next few words. “y’know. exploring each other,”

you mentally face palm, the comedic slap ringing through your head.

you’re dumbfounded.

“you’d maybe think i was disgusting for the way i look?” you draw out the last word, feeling yourself shudder at the second hand embarrassment.

jinx doesn’t even look phased — at most bewildered.

she sighs, letting her head drop, eyes tunneling down onto her fidgeting hands. she seemed to be nervous for what you wanted to say too, but you’re pulled back from your thoughts at the hand taking your own.

“i don’t… care.” she states simply, sounding almost defeated you’re having this conversation, like you should already know she doesn’t care how you look.

you sag. this is not the answer you wanted, and she notices this.

“no— i do care!” she starts up again, waving a hand in admission. “i just mean i don't mind how you look. i think you’re.. beautiful. i wish you could see yourself the way i do.”

she sighs, scrunching her nose and recoiling at her words like they left a sour taste in her mouth. she hates being open, being honest with you. she’s afraid it makes her look weak, like her vulnerability takes away from the big scary jinx persona she’s built up for herself over the past however long you’d known each other.

( 2 years! )

“you don’t mean that.” you state simply, squeezing her hand in your own.

“what makes you think i don’t?” she queries, eyes flitting up at your huddled form. “you know how much i love you.”

you feel a jolt down between your legs, a familiar warmth blooming in your belly. she seems sincere enough, but that void that fills your lungs seems to only grow thicker and thicker. it almost hurts to breathe.

what if you just let go this one time? this one time? ‘if you hate it you never have to do it again’ you tell yourself. in your head you’re standing opposite yourself, leering over their cowering body before comedically slapping their face, forcing some sense into them.

get it together.

you can’t deny how much you want her, and you feel almost possessed when you lean forward, tilting your head to meet hers. she seems taken aback, moaning softly into the kiss as her hand finds your face.

her thumb meets your jaw, rubbing soothing circles into the bone. you suck in a breath when her teeth meet your bottom lip, and you reciprocate with fervour, clambering to situate yourself over top of her.

she kisses her way down your neck, shaking her head with a curt ‘nuh uh!’. once she has your shirt off she’s turning you so you’re on your back, left flushed beneath her — and most importantly naked.

you feel the most exposed you’ve ever felt, but you don’t feel insecure. under jinx’s warm gaze you can feel just how much she wants you, the way her smile reaches her eyes before she leans in to the junction of your neck. her hands trail upward, sliding further up up up till they reach your chest.

gasping out her name, you buck up instinctively into her touch. you find yourself heaving beneath her hand, swift and admiring grasp at your chest, gently circling over your sensitive nipple.

“jinx..” you sigh, shuddering up into her touch. you feel love drunk, words sloshing together as though you could barely keep your head up.

she seems to notice, humming a chuckle into your neck. that chuckle follows her down, down past your chest, past your stomach where she now sits, laid between your legs. trembling, you can only watch as she situates your legs over her shoulders, holding them there by curling her arms over top.

“you— you don’t have to—“ you’re cut off by a light slap against your thigh. your eyes fall, jaw dropped in a balk to where she’s laid, pointer finger pressed against her thumb where she drags it along her lips. zzzzzzip!

she throws away the makeshift key.

then contradicts the motion like she hadn’t just done it.

“i want to. you hear me?” she tilts her head, resting against the slope of your thigh. “i want to.”

nodding shakily, you allow yourself to situate back against the pillows. you feel at ease knowing she wants this, even if it’s only at least a bit. though she does seem eager; tongue darting out to comically lick at her lip, fingers curling over the laced rim of your panties.

she pulls and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in. fully exposed now, jinx looks like she just won the lottery — if her pupils could shift and change at will she’d be seeing dollar signs right now. she looks between you and your pussy, bringing two fingers down to slide through your slit, gathering up all the slick that’d gathered there.

your underwear is soaked, and you see that now with her jeering beneath you, swinging your underwear jokingly around her finger.

“you’re soaked, baby.” she muses, cocking a brow and letting your panties drop to the floor. “this all for me?”

your body seems to react before your mind, and you’re nodding rapidly, hair shaking from the intensity. she can see you’re eager, and so wastes no more time in parting your thighs. she hums out a sigh, drawing a long inhale up the center, before letting her tongue part your lips, licking her way through to your sopping hole.

the reaction is instantaneous; bucking hips and lips parting to accommodate the sharp gasp that’s ripped from you. the gasp trembles off into a whine when she places a well-deserved flick over your clit, drawing her tongue there for a moment longer just to see you squirm. her hand finds your abdomen, pressing on your stomach to keep you from bucking up from her touch.

she wants control.

your earlier hesitation melts away, dripping off jinx’s tongue and down her chin. you heave, chest trembling at her ministrations. she’s good — far too good. the sloppy sounds fill the secluded room, filling the space with a stuffy heat that feels suffocating. you feel it squeezing at your lungs, encouraging the soft moans you manage to choke out.

she smirks, snarky and knowing. the look in her eyes is almost enough to send you over the edge, the coil tightening a mile in your abdomen. you’re on the brink of an orgasm, legs trembling and brows drawing up right as she makes the move of pressing tight circles into your clit.

“you can come, honey,” she coaxes, pressing soothing kisses over your soaking pussy, now just as soaked as her mouth. “come on, baby.”

peering up and over your chest is the final straw; the sight of her covered in your juices, dripping from her chin. the dark void that drowns the pinks in her eyes, full of lust. the way her purple lipstick is smudged down the corners of her mouth.

it’s too much—

white hot pleasure crushes through your being, zipping up your spine as you finally reach the peak. you hear jinx somewhere beneath you, like she’s cheering you on. you feel her fingers, slim and soaked driving through your slick. the obscene sounds fill the room, against your moans — now bordering pornographic.

it’s a while till you come down fully from your high. hands dragging down the sides of your sweaty face. you can feel just how heated you are, and you know you must be beet-red by now.

the thought makes you flush even more in embarrassment.

jinx on the other hand, seems to be having the time of her life; crawling up your body to curl in beside you, snuggling close to your warmth. she beams from where she lays, resting her head on your chest and peering up curiously at you.

“you did so well,” she comments, stroking a thumb over the corner of your mouth.

she looks disheveled herself, hair frizzy and drawn upright. thank god for the braids, otherwise you’d imagine her hair sticking up in any and every direction ever. this warms your insides, makes it all fizzy. you assume this is what people mean when they say they have butterflies in their stomach.

you smile.

“you’re perfect.”

A.N yay first request done! plz check my pinned for info if you want to submit anything <3

[newtonsheffield]

the funeral au is beautiful and sad at the same time because they wouldn’t have met if his dad didn’t die do you think they talk about that?🥲

I think they talk about it from time to time. And both of them prefer to think that they would have met one another eventually. They’re so entwined in one another’s lives by that point that it seems strange that if not for three minutes of time they might never have met. Maybe if Anthony’s father hadn’t been hit by that car. Maybe if Anthony hadn’t walked into any random shop, hardly caring where he was. Maybe if Kate hadn’t sent those flowers. Maybe they never would have had this.

Anthony prefers to see that Kate’s the silver lining to the worst time of his life. He went through one of the hardest things there is to go through but he found Kate. And he’s not sure if he would ever give that up. If he got his father back but he had to give up Kate could he do it? He doesn’t think so. He doesn’t think he could trade one for the other. He doesn’t think he could give Kate up for anything. Kate’s incredible. Beautiful and smart and talented and fiercely loyal. There’s no one else he’d rather spend his time with. He’d spend all of his time with her if he wouldn’t be accused of being anti-social by Simon and Ben. Well… honestly he hardly cares about that anyway.

[slimybeth69]

Part 3- Your People

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

w/c~ 8k

content warnings: Reader (no descriptions besides having hair that can be pulled) is in a weird mindset; hears voices, talks to herself. non-con/dub-con (if you're looking for enthusiastic consent, ya wont find it here) smut, cock-warming, unprotected P in V, creampies, oral (m&f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, pussy and peen pronouns, alcohol consumption (altered mental state). Joel wears a shock collar and other various horrible things that would keep him in check-- and he doesn't fucking like it.

Reader warning- While it looks real pretty, this is a Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. If ya do and then come complaining to me that you ate a dead dove-- I'm gonna fight you. I warned you. I'm coming from a place of love and respect for my readers who have ever gone through anything traumatic and maybe don't want to relive that, it's in here. I try and do it tastefully and respectfully in the best way, i'll mark it with a lil divider where you can skip the part I'm worried about. it's smut but it's sad. There is your warning. I love you.

You gotta sleep, kid. You need it.

Mister-J looks so warm and comfortable… go on and crawl in beside him.

He does look so comfortable and inviting, especially from your spot just out of his reach if you were to fall asleep. His chest rises and falls slowly as he breathes in his sleep. It’s memorizing, and almost hypnotic enough to make you forget all of your fears— forget all of the things that made laying next to him with his arms around you physically excruciating.

S’okay, Baby. You’ll get there, it’ll get easier ‘n he won’t seem so big ‘n scary anymore.

There is a reason he seems big and scary, kid. Your gut is telling you not to trust him, so don’t.

Oh, stop it. If he wanted to kill her, he would have— he would have done it by now. He’s big ‘n strong— he could, and he hasn’t.

That sweet, soft voice does have a good point…

Doesn’t mean he isn’t waiting for a better opportunity.

The dark, serious voice has a point too…

This always happens, the voices say things that conflict one another, but they both have a point. They both make sense but never about the same thing. And they argue. And they’re loud. It’s only when you need them, that you really, really want them to say something that they are quiet.

The little flashlight that had been attached to the backpack Mister-man—

Joel… he has a name. He’s a real person, kid.

You flick the flashlight off quickly so it’s dark again.

Mister-mans, Mister-J… Joel… it don’t matter none, Sugar. He’s yours, and you can call him whatever you want.

You flick the light back on so you can watch him sleep. It’s incredible how calm he is, and how he fell asleep as soon as you laid down next to him after saying he couldn’t sleep.

Sometimes that happens to you though, sometimes you need to touch yourself, and make yourself squirm and moan and come, and then sleep finds you. Sometimes the whiskey puts you to sleep before you even have the desire to do that to yourself.

Whatever Mister-J did with his tongue was so much better than your fingers, wasn’t it?

It most definitely was. It was probably the most incredible feeling you’ve ever experienced. Not that you hadn’t ever experienced it before, but this time…it was soft, gentle— and you wanted it more than anything. That made it feel even fucking better, how badly you wanted to sit down on Mister-mans face and grind down onto his mouth.

He was making out with your cunt. Deep, long, tongue swirling kisses. He would open and close his mouth, and suck. He would lick and lap at all spots you didn’t even know could make you feel good.

When you would take his cock deep in your throat and gag on it, he would moan- loudly-and the vibrations from that were like earthquakes, they touched parts inside of you that were left unexplored by anyone before Mister.

He was perfect.

The idea of laying your head down on his big, muscular bicep was nice until you were actually doing it, and then everything about it felt foreign. It was like sleeping too close to the fire, surrounded by too many blankets.

You had gotten so used to sleeping alone, that the feeling of someone next to you didn’t feel right anymore. It made you sad and you’re not entirely sure why.

So that’s why you’re here on the floor and not snuggled up against Mister-man. It’s like the universe played some cruel joke on you- and you got your favorite food but when you bite into it, it’s rancid.

But your fingers twitch toward him anyway—like roots in dirt searching for water. His arm is right there. His breath is slow and steady.

Go on. He’s warm as fresh bread.

You shift an inch closer.

Dangerous as a snake in the grass.

But his skin smells like leather and sweat and you want to taste him again. Want to run your tongue from the tip of his cock, to the spot just in front of his ear that makes him sigh when you kiss him there.

Crawling—quiet like scared prey— you move until your face hovers over his chest. His shirt rides up just enough to show a scar on his perfectly doughy stomach. And another on his rib cage. It looks newer, still old enough to be a scar, but pink instead of white.

You wonder if it aches when he breathes. If that’s the reason his voice sounds like gravel sometimes.

He’ll crush you.

He’ll hold you.

It sounds like a song the way the sweet voice says it.

You touch the scar with your pinky finger, feather-light—and he doesn’t stir. But then he sighs—a rumble deeper than thunder—and your guts twist.

You scramble back, heart slamming against the back of your throat.

The sweet voice clucks at you.

You’re spooking yourself. 

You’re alive because you spook.

The flashlight rolls under your knee when you shift—plastic clattering loud enough to wake dead things—and Mister’s brow tightens. For one gut-drop second, his eyes flicker open, staring up at you, before he grunts and turns onto his side, back to you now.

He’s mad again? How, and why? What did you do wrong? You had done everything right.

You keep poking that bear and you’re going to get mauled, kid.

He ain’t mad…look’it his hands, Sugar.

They’re not balled up into fists, they’re relaxed. His whole body is. Everything about him seems so at peace.

Your stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten— and then you only had half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and some whiskey.

Joel’s boot shifts with a dry scrape of leather—and your lungs forget how air works. But he just mumbles something that sounds like “goddamn horse” with his face smushed against the pillow.

Mister-J talks in his sleep? He’s precious.

He is. It’s hard to contain the feeling in your chest when he sighs loudly, rolling onto his stomach, curling his arms under the pillow.

Instead of trying to face your fears of crawling into bed with him and falling asleep next to someone else, you crawl on your hands and knees back to the chair across the room. The whiskey bottle is still tucked between the cushion where you left it.

--

Even with almost half of a bottle of whiskey in you, your eyes won’t close. You only know what time it is because the soft whir of the solar powered generator kicks on, and the singular lamp in the corner flicks to life. It’s dark outside now. 

The electric hum from the bulb makes your skin crawl, and your head buzz.

Part of you feels bad for keeping Mister down here like this. He doesn’t even know what time it is, he’ll probably wake up soon, getting ready to start the day. You wonder if he misses the sun, if he ever walked barefoot in the grass and if he misses that feeling too.

When you weren’t allowed outside, you missed the sun. You missed the grass between your toes. You missed being able to jump into the river and swim around with your brother whenever you wanted. There were a lot of things you missed when you weren’t allowed to go outside.

Unscrewing the whiskey cap, you take a swig and relish in the way it burns. It drowns out the voices, but it doesn’t dull the ache between your legs— the memory of his mouth makes you shift in the soft recliner.

In the soft, pale light spilling into the room from behind the aged, yellow lampshade, you can see Mister-J… and how excited he is. He’s on his back, shirt riding up over his stomach again, the bulge in his sweatpants clear as day now.

There is a new voice you’ve never heard before, and it’s not saying anything— only screaming. Loud, and high pitched. It’s excruciating. It’s the only thing you hear now, not even the sound of your own voice telling you what to do, or what to think or say.

When you stand, the whiskey sloshes between your temples. It makes you sway and almost lose your balance, but you press your hand to a support beam that juts out of the floor and into the ceiling.

Heavy, clumsy, limping feet and a swollen ankle carry you to Mister-J.

His cock is hard and heavy in your hand and he tastes just like he did last night. He stirs under your touch—a low groan vibrating through clenched teeth—and your pussy tightens around nothing. Mister arches his hips up against your slow moving fist, trying to fuck your hand momentarily before stilling and settling back down into the mattress. His eyes are still shut tight beneath furrowed eyebrows.

It’s pathetically cute how bad he wants this. How badly he needs it.

The screaming inside your head morphs into static.

Your fingers rub slow circles over damp fabric between your legs while your rib cage starts to feel like a hive of wasps. Everything inside of you is buzzing as you lean over and swirl your tongue around the ridge of his cock.

Wrong.

That dark voice sounds like it’s coming through the static like old radio stations.

You pull your hand away from Mister-J's cock and cover your face with it, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill. This is all wrong, all of it.

S’right. It’s all right.

The static transmutes into tornado sirens.

Your hand finds his cock again and it throbs in your grasp. There is no hesitation when you take him into your mouth with a gentleness you didn’t know you possessed when you’re this intoxicated. Delicate movements and laps of your tongue along his shaft make him moan softly, still slumbering.

Salt and musk take over your senses as he pulses against your tongue—wanting even in his unconsciousness. Your throat spasms around him as you gag, tears hot on your lashes. One hand brushes against his thigh as you move to steady yourself on the mattress while the other slips into your own waistband. Two fingers slide into you with no resistance. You’re so wet that you almost feel embarrassed.

Inside.

The sweet voice sings to you over the cacophony going on inside your head.

Mister’s hips jerk again, involuntary, desperate. A string of saliva connects your lip to his cock when you pull back to breathe. The room tilts—whiskey and shame on your tongue—but you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not when his thighs were trembling just a moment ago.

After kicking your shorts off, you climb on top. Mister feels so hot pressed up against your cunt. Yours and his breath catch in your throats when you sink down into his lap. Your eyes close to hide from the stretch that burns in a slippery, and shameful way.

The wasps behind your ribs sharpen their stingers as you slowly start to rock your hips against his. Mister’s eyelids flutter but he doesn’t wake-up, not fully. He just hovers in that feverish space between dreaming and drowning. A place you’re familiar with.

Bad. Bad. Bad.

Good. Good. Good.

You want to carve yourself into his bones before the tornado sirens rip your skull apart.

The oven mitts make useless fists at his sides as he arches beneath you, tendons in his neck pulled wire-tight. His hips stutter upward instinctively, chasing more friction, seeking the deepest, warmest parts of you.

His eyes snap open, “The fuck are you—” Mister-man’s voice is rough like sandpaper but you don’t let him finish before you slap your hand over his mouth.

“Shhhh, makin’ you feel good,” you moan quietly, your hips never faltering. His cock slides across a spot inside of you that whites the edges of your vision.

He mumbles something, his teeth scraping along your palm as he does so. It vaguely sounds like, ‘Get off’a me’ or ‘get off on me,’.

“M’tryin’,” you groan, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Your cheeks are wet, but from tears or sweat, you don’t know.

How can everything make sense up here on top of Mister-J, and still feel so incredibly… wrong?

The oven mitts start to drum against your thighs as he squirms underneath you.

It…hurts? Mister is hitting you? 

Hurting you.

You like it. 

“Knock it off!” You press harder against this mouth with your hand, your fingers digging into his cheeks. It’s impossible to stop riding him, to stop yourself from needing this brutal closeness with Mister. 

You’re being bad. 

You like it. 

His muffled growls vibrate against your palm—angry or pleading or both—but your cunt clenches harder around him anyway. Release is so close, you can feel yourself teeter on the precipice, but you can’t seem to push yourself over.

“Please, please, p-please— jus’ wanna, I just wanna— please, please, Mister-J,” you whine, face wet with perspiration and tears now, they’re flowing freely from your eyes. “I want it, need it—”

“Stop, goddammit—” he shouts at you from behind your fingers.

It makes you flinch but you don’t stop, and your pussy pulses around him. Your hand presses harder, fingernails leaving moon crescents in his flesh mingled with his stubble.

You just want to feel good, to be able to fall asleep once this is all over.

Oven mitts thump and scrabble at your hip, and that only makes your thighs clamp tighter around his waist. You want to swallow every twitch of his cock, everything he can give you– you want it. 

He bucks his hips up into you and touches a place inside you that leaves you gasping for air. “Yes, yes, yes—” you groan breathlessly, leaning forward to lay your body on top of his, resting your forehead against his collarbone.

Mister bucks his hips up into yours again— once, twice, three times and suddenly you’re being shoved off of him, pushed to the side like you’re weightless.

Before you can really even know what hit you, Mister-man has his entire body weight pinning you down underneath him. He has his forearm forced against your neck.

Your thumb instinctively presses against down, searching for the shock collar button but you just end up pressing against your own palm.

The static, and the sirens and the screaming— the voices. It all goes completely silent and the only thing you can hear is the blood roaring in your ears.

Mistake?

Mistake. 

“Got’chya,” He growls down at you, his eyes dark and blown wide.

“Get off me! Get off me! Get off of me!” You scream at him as loudly as you can, “Get off of me! Get off! Off, off, offoffoffoff! I’ll fucking kill you, you stupid fucking sonofabitch- get the fuck off me!”

“Awhh, lil crazy puppy don’t like it?” He murmurs, pressing his lips to your tear stained cheekbone.

Your legs begin to flail wildly in an attempt to dislodge him, push him, get him off. Your hands flying to his face, scratching and clawing at the soft skin, and his vulnerable, delicate eyes. You can’t find the words for how much you don’t like it, so you scream— it’s loud and rattles in the back of your throat as Mister-man clamps his hand over your mouth to silence you.

His breath is hot and ragged against your ear, the oven mitts clumsily grappling at your wrists as you thrash. "Stop—fuckin'—fightin’—," he grits out, but his voice cracks on the last word.

You taste copper—your teeth sink into his palm at some point, his blood smearing your chin. He pulls his hand back back to look at the broken skin, and you clench your eyes shut, flinching away from the incoming blows.

The room tilts and suddenly Joel’s weight isn’t just on your body; it’s inside your head, like pressure forcing memories that had buried deep to the surface like lava from a volcano.

Different hands holding you down. A different room. Different voices in your ear.

“Nononononono,” you whimper in a shriveled voice you don’t recognize. 

“Hey!” Joel’s voice is sharp and grounding.

His arm lets up just enough for you to suck in a shattered breath. You’re both trembling now, your chests heaving against one anothers. His beard scratches your temple as he turns his face away from your clawing hands, but you don’t miss it—there is a  flicker in his eyes when your choked sob hits the air between you. 

Something wet smears your cheek. His blood? Your tears? It’s hard to tell. 

“M’gonna make you feel real good, crazy girl.��� His lips brush your earlobe as his hips grind down into yours, the length of him sliding between your folds, the tip notched at your entrance.

“Stop,” you whine, but the force has left your voice. Something about him breathing in your ear, something about the sound he makes as he shifts his hips and slips himself inside of you. The tears continue to fall, even as you gasp and clench around him. 

“She’s suckin’ me right in baby,” Joel purrs in your ear while his hips start to move. 

You can feel every fucking inch of him, every vein, and every single beat of his heart through the slick walls of your cunt. “Oh god,” you groan, your stiff, frightened hands curling in the hair on the back of his head, the other gripping one of his strong, strained biceps. 

You're terrified, but Joel's words and touch are overwhelming you, making your body respond in ways you didn’t know could in a position like this.

He thrusts slowly at first as he sinks deeper inside you. But soon his pace quickens and the slapping, wet sounds coming from between your legs fill the small basement room. "Yeah just like that," Mister groans, his lips ghosting over your cheek. "Take it all, baby girl.”

Your walls clench around him, pulling him in as if eager for more. You feel delirious with fear and an unbidden arousal. Tears stream down your face, but soft moans spill from your lips.

Joel licks at your tears and leaves gentle kisses in their place, his beard scraping against your sensitive skin. "Shhhh, I got you," he murmurs between thrusts.

The room spins and blurs as the pleasure builds. Nothing exists and nothing is real anymore; Mister-man’s weight pinning you down, his cock splitting you open, the sour, sweaty, musky scent of him.

He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real and he’s good. He’s good, he’s good, he’s good. He’s not killing you, not hurting you.

So good. It’s so good.

You turn your head to capture his salty, tear stained lips with yours, opening your mouth to let him in. His lips press against yours desperately, tongue licking at your teeth as he slips inside.

Your body arches up to meet him, craving more of his touch even as fear still coils in your gut. It’s like you’re two separate people wrapped up into a whole. One part of you wants him with everything that you are, and the other is ready to hide, ready to slip into the cracks into the wall and never come out.

His oven mitts move to your waist and fumble with the threadbare shirt you have on, trying to push it up over the swell of your breasts.

“Fuck,” he grunts, nipping at your bottom lip as he pulls away from the kiss. He sits back on his knees, cock still throbbing inside of you while your walls flutter around him.

“Don’t, oh god, no. Please don’t go-” you sob, hands and fingers clawing at his forearms, desperate for him to come back. “P-Please don’t leave me,” you whine sadly, 

Mister says nothing as he places both mitt covered hands inside your shirt where it’s fastened with buttons. He pulls the two pieces of fabric apart like paper. The buttons fly in every direction, scattering across the floor and some landing in bed with you. Joel stares down at your naked body and you feel more exposed than you ever have in your entire life.

“Jesus christ,” he murmurs, eyes tracing every single one of your curves. His mittened hands cups the swell of your tits, thumb swiping over the stiff buds

It’s like you’ve been zapped by the shock collar. Your back arches into his hand, your eyes clamp shut.

“Nuh-uh, watch me,” he growls. He waits until your eyes are on him before he leans over and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirls and teeth graze and bite down.

“Oh my god,” you groan, your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your nails dragging red, almost bloody marks down his arm.

Mister releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air across it almost like he’s teasing you. Goosebumps erupt across your skin as he takes the other into his mouth, alternating between harsh sucking and tender kisses.

You mewl softly as he begins to thrust again, each movement slow and deliberate. He drives deep inside of you and hits that spot that blurs the edges of your vision again, and again, and again.

You stare up at him in awe- his beard is longer, thicker than it was when he first came here, his hair disheveled and damp with sweat hangs in his forehead. He leans back and pushes the loose strands away from his face with an oven mitt.

Handsome.

He is.

Strong.

Being so gentle.

With you, Sugar. So gentle—

With you.

"Please," you whimper, spine bowing as pleasure coils tight in your belly as his hips snap against yours loudly. “More. Need more…”

He grins down at you, eyes crinkled at the corners, “I’ll give ya’ more, sweetheart.” If you thought Mister was handsome before, when he smiles your heart swells. and the pressure and tightness inside of you feels like it’s about to burst.

He wraps one hand underneath your knee and brings it up, resting your ankle on his shoulder by his ear, repeating the process with the other leg. He grips your thighs, the scratchy fabric of the oven mitts drags across your skin. Joel never lets up, never slows down the brutal, bruising pace he sets. 

A string of expletives and maybe his name more than once spill out of your mouth quickly, stumbling over the words as your body trembles underneath him.

All of the air is pushed out of you as he leans over, pushing your knees up to your chest and starts fucking into you with deep, long strokes. His pelvis grinds against your swollen clit with each powerful snap forward, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"I can feel her squeezin’ me," he rasps hotly in your ear, licking the shell before biting down on your earlobe. “Come on my cock, crazy girl.”

That does it. It’s more than enough to push you over the edge. “Oh—” Your head tips back with a silent scream as your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, making your entire body shudder and convulse beneath him. “Fuck… Joel!” Sparks burst behind your eyelids as pure rapture consumes you.

Mister sucks your earlobe as you come, his sweaty temple pressed against yours as the waves wash over you. He’s kissing and licking down to your neck, and bites down hard right over your pulse point, sucking hard enough to hurt. "That's it baby girl," he grunts against the spot he just bit.

It’s like your whole body is on fire, everything is too much, it’s all too good.

You feel a new pressure, a new sensation and it’s familiar, but foreign all at the same time. A new release, it’s different and it’s happening so fast.

“Stop! Oh my— Mist- Joel, p-please,” you plead for some sort of relief. “I’m gunna—”

Joel presses his lips to yours again, silencing you. You twist your head to the side, pulling away from his mouth as he kisses down your cheek to your jaw. “S’okay— let go...”

"I...I don't...can't..." You gasp out between ragged breaths. Hot, wet tears still leak from the corners of your eyes as the intense pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.

“Ya’ can,” he pants, resting his forehead on the side of your head. “Cryin’ only makes it feel better, baby girl.” He shifts his hips, angles them differently and fucks you harder- faster.

“P-Please,” you whimper, unsure if you’re begging him to stop, or to keep going. “S’too much!”

“Shut up,” he growls, nipping at your cheek gently, teeth scraping skin as he pistons into you relentlessly. “Let it happen, crazy girl.”

So you do- body obeying his command even as your mind reels with what’s about to happen. A second climax crashes over you, more intense than the first. It erupts from you in a wet splash against Mister’s lower stomach and pelvis, it drips down the curve of your ass and you feel it seeping into the mattress underneath you.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises breathlessly. “Such a good fuckin’ girl cummin’ on Mister’s cock again.”

You sob in pleasure and embarrassment simultaneously as he fucks you through it, his deep voice rasping in your ear.

“Crazy,” He murmurs. His thrusts grow clumsy, and he’s panting in your ear, kissing the side of your face. His tongue captures the tears on your cheeks again like they’re his favorite drink as your fingers dig into the soft flesh on his shoulder. “Makin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” he snaps suddenly, pulling back and out of you completely.

You whimper at the loss but he presses your thighs together tightly with his hands and forearms, and slips his cock between them, the length siding through your wet folds.

Mister-J kisses your ankle, his teeth biting down on the skin as he groans loudly, warmth spreads and seeps between your thighs, and slick lower lips, the crease where your legs meet your pelvis.

You stare up at him, watching as his eyes close, his brow furrows, his hips jerking back and forth clumsily as he empties himself onto your lower half.

Your legs tremble as he slides his softening cock out from between your thighs. 

That was the most incredible, and intense feeling you’ve ever experienced and you’re not sure if you should love him, or hate him for what he just did to you. The wet spot on the mattress is an embarrassing reminder of what happened seconds ago.

“S’good for ya’?” Mister asks, running one of his oven mitts over his forehead, wiping the sweat away. His eyes move from your face, down your still naked body, his cum smeared across your mound and lower stomach.

You pull your shirt closed around your bare torso, holding it closed with one hand. You use your good foot and the other hand to push yourself onto the cold concrete floor— skin scraping roughly as you shove yourself away from him.

His brows pinch together tightly, and he narrows his eyes on you. “Where’re ya’ goin’?” He sounds… concerned? Angry? Disappointed?

The words don’t find you, thoughts don’t come to you anymore as you hold the shirt over your chest and glare at him. All you can do is scream at him. It comes from somewhere deep and your lungs hurt, your throat feels like it could bleed from how raw it is after.

“Where’re ya’ goin’?”

He watches as tears continue to pour down your cheeks, your face twisting up tightly. You inhale deeply, and it looks like you’re trying to regain your composure.

Then you scream at him. It’s long and loud and hurts his ears, but he stares at you until you’re done. He continues to watch as you scurry away from him in a clumsy, stumbling crab-crawl until your back bumps into the leg of the table. 

You flinch and stifle a sob, and finally take a deep, shaky breath. You use the table to push yourself to your feet, turning away from him finally. You shove the table in his direction, grabbing the shock collar remote before you turn, and limp into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

The dull roar of the infected grows louder from upstairs. They’re still there, and that means the two of you are stuck together for at least another day or two, maybe longer.

The door opens again, and a metal bucket comes hurdling out of the bathroom and through the air. It hits the wall, and drops to the floor noisily with chaotic, metal clangs until it comes to settle in the corner by the mattress.

The door slams shut again.

You’re broken, he can see it in your eyes almost all the time, but there was a moment when he was on top of you where he thought you might have completely checked out– gone somewhere else, somewhere he didn’t mean to take you. 

Traumatized the poor puppy. Pro’lly in there cryin’.

He’s not worried that you’re crying. Nope. Not even a little. 

Alright- that’s what you wanna keep tellin’ yourself, go right ahead. 

He’s worried he just signed his death certificate. 

Joel wasn’t trying to take anything from you— not like that. You were already on top of him, riding him, but you just looked like you needed some help, like you needed him to take control. Like you didn’t know what you were doing up there, rolling and swirling your hips in any direction. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t ever going to get you there- where you wanted to be so badly.

Joel took you there, made you fucking squirt all over him and he took some sense of pride in that. 

Joel helps himself to jerky and bread, he drinks as much water as his body will comfortably allow. For the first time in weeks, he’s actually full. His stomach feels like it’s stretched like he might actually burst. 

–-

At first Joel thought you just needed a couple minutes. Maybe you wanted to clean up in the privacy of the bathroom without his eyes on you. But hours go by and he hears nothing coming from the separate room. Nothing. 

It’s silent. Completely. No shrieking or clicking of the infected from upstairs either. 

It’s the lack of control that’s pissing him off more than he would care to admit. Being captive was of course at the top of his ‘things to be pissed off about’ list,  but if he was going to be stuck here with you, he wishes he could at least have a say in what goes on. 

Hasn’t seen the sun, hasn’t had a proper shower in god knows when, hasn’t had a real meal in just as long. If you would give him just a little more freedom, things wouldn’t be too fucking bad here. 

Now you’re gettin’ it. 

You’re making Joel crazy, now he’s thinking about complying?

Y’been complyin’, Mister. Complied real damn good in that bed just then.

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit. 

Has Joel been complying? What the fuck is going on? Why didn’t he kill you in bed? Why didn’t he strangle you, bite your jugular out of your throat. He could have, he felt your heartbeat on his tongue. He could have ended all of this right then. 

But ya’ didn’t! 

He sure fucking didn’t. He was so unworried about killing, that he made sure you came– twice – before he finished. 

Looked so sweet comin’ on your cock, perfect tits bouncin’, fuckin’ pussy was immaculate. 

Joel presses the oven mitts into the sockets of his eyes and groans loudly. 

--

Joel’s eyes snap open at the rattling coming from inside the room. He shoots up, looking around with crusty eyes and blurry vision. He expects to see you but is met with the sight of that fucking opposum sitting on the table with a piece of Joel’s jerky in his clawed little fingers, munching happily on the dried meat. 

“Git!” Joel shouts. The small animal doesn’t even flinch at Joel’s outburst, just continues to eat that precious protein. “Y’little fuckin’--” Joel grumbles, pushing himself to his feet. He stands in front of the table, looking down at it- the opposum- Puddin’. 

He just stares right back up at Joel, chewing quickly and swallowing. 

Kinda cute.

“S’fuckin’ gross,” Joel grumbles. He doesn’t really want to touch that thing, he doesn’t want to get whatever diseases that thing could be carrying. 

He’s got a collar on. 

Puddin’ does have a collar on. Joel imagines you taking your time picking it out for him, going through all the colors and designs. He can see you finding the teal and pink collar, holding it up against his fur and saying it’s perfect. That Puddin’ would be the most handsome opossum this mall has ever seen. 

It makes him smile. 

--

It feels like two fucking days--two goddamn days since Joel saw you walk into that bathroom and slam the door shut practically in his face. 

You’re either dead in there or plotting the most painful ways to kill him. Both choices make Joel sick to his stomach. 

–--

Joel watches you behind the metal grate that keeps the mattress store all locked up nice and tight. He’s on the wrong fucking side! He’s on the mall side and you’re tucked under the covers of your comfortable looking bed. Seven mattresses stacked on top of each other like you’re in some fucking story he’d read to Sarah when she was really little. 

Joel almost wishes he could go back to the basement because this is more dehumanizing than being tied up by the elbows or roped up to a chair. 

The metal chain around his neck is tight, and it digs into his skin. It’s thick,  heavy and has prongs on it– like he’s a fucking dog. A violent dog that lunges, and bites and attacks. 

You opened the door to the bathroom an hour ago with the choke chain in your hand, the shock collar remote taped to the other, and the most exhausted look Joel’s ever seen on anyone's face. Big dark circles under your eyes, disassociated stare like you weren’t even really looking at Joel when you spoke to him in almost indecipherable mumbling.

Joel fought you a little when you padlocked the choke chain to his neck, and added a smaller lock to the shock collar. But he stopped when you said you were gonna take his oven mitts off his hands. 

Where are all the infected? It sounded like there had been a horde of them up here two days ago and now there is not a single sign that they had even been here. 

When Joel had questioned you about what he would do if more infected came, you very confidently said that no one could get in or out that easily anymore; that you had made this place nice and safe for your ‘mister-man’.

Ain’t ever had no one like that before, have ya’?

No.

That had always been Joel’s job; to keep everyone else safe. 

Who made sure that he was safe? 

There had always been give and take with everyone else, even Tommy and Tess. There was love there, sure– but never just someone absolutely and completely tearing themselves open to make sure that Joel was taken care of. 

The only thing you wanted in return was his company. 

Might’a never touched ya’ if you hadn’t asked for it. 

He wonders what your name is. How old you are, where you came from. How long have you been out here…

Joel grabs the metal cord wrapped in some sort of plastic or vinyl material that goes all the way up to the ceiling and gives it a shake as he looks up. You’ve attached it to some other sort of rope or cable that’s been tied from one end of the mall to the other. 

The other end is connected to Joel’s choke chain. 

As soon as your eyes closed he attempted to unclip himself from it but it wouldn’t budge. He tried everything but it was like you welded the clasp closed. 

Joel wanders. That’s all he can do. He’s got more than enough slack to go into whatever store he wants and walk around, inspect.

As he does this his mind doesn’t stop thinking about you. Why didn’t you sleep with him? What did you do while he slept on the bed? Did you sleep? Have you eaten? What the fuck did you do in the bathroom for two whole days?

Joel finds a place where the sun is shining through a hole in the ceiling and faces it with his eyes closed. He could fucking cry. He didn’t realize how much he missed this, how important it was for a person to come in contact with the sunlight. He chokes down the lump in his throat and stands there, following the sun as it moves in the sky, the light coming in at shifting angles and directions. He follows it, stays in the warmth- basking in it for as long as possible until dusk settles and the sky slowly starts to turn pink. 

Joel has his backpack with him. You packed him some food and water, his flashlight. A clean long sleeve shirt in case it got cold. You even threw in some whiskey for him, which he was enjoying sip by sip. 

He pulls his flashlight out and uses it when he goes into an old bookstore. Some shelves are empty; nature guides, atlases, hunting and fishing- basically the entire outdoors section is gone. 

The romance novels are almost bare. 

Who needs those when lil puppy’s got you, right?

There are still self-help books on the shelves, almost untouched and whatever is left looks like it would fall apart in his hands if he tried to touch it. 

Why’s you even in this section?

Joel wanders to the comics and takes a look at whatever is left. Some are in alright condition, wrapped in plastic away from the elements. Some do disintegrate before he can even get them out of their place on the shelf. 

He grabs a Batman comic still in a vinyl sleeve and tosses it in his pack for later. There are tons more strewn all across the floor, some he remembers reading with Tommy as kids. He picks through them, looking for any worth saving and finds two more still in decent condition. 

There are several department and clothing stores that look bare from the outside, but he wanders into one anyway just to see what might have been missed.

There’s an exit to the outside that's been all boarded up, with what looks like every empty clothing rack pushed in front of it. He thinks about moving all those things, breaking through the boards… but where the fuck would he go? Ten feet outside of the mall where the infected were apparently moving through? 

No. 

He’ll stay inside.

He paruses the homegoods section all the way in the back of the second floor and finds a wall of empty shelves except for one. 

It’s filled with books- he reads through the titles: The Beginners Guide to Foraging, An Introduction to Wildlife Rehabilitation, LIVING WITH WILDLIFE- How to Enjoy, Cope with, and Protect North America’s Wild Creatures Around Your Home and Theirs, The Big Book of Skill Makers, The Complete Beginners Guide to Greenhouse Gardening- A Month by Month Planting Book to Grow 365 Days a Year, You Will Find Your People- How To Make Meaningful Friendships as an Adult. There are several Batman comics featuring Harley Quinn and The Joker. 

They all look like they’ve been read thoroughly and many times. 

On the same shelf there is a pink balloon animal made of glass, it has fresh flowers in it, with clean water. It takes him several seconds to realize that it’s supposed to be a bong. For smoking weed. And you’re using it as a vase. 

Joel chuckles to himself and continues to look at the shelf of your important belongings. A couple rocks of different colors, an old makeup compact that has a broken mirror in it. And a small glass picture frame of a family– a mother and a father, a little girl, and a young man but his face has been scratched out beyond recognition. 

On the wall behind the shelf Joel notices lines carved into the wall.

| | | | | | | | | | |

Twelve. Is that how old you were when this all happened? Is that the number of men you did this to before Joel came along? Are you going to add him to this fucking list?

Is that how many months you've been out here?

All of this suddenly feels like someone he can’t see punched Joel directly in the stomach. 

Sad. 

Joel makes his way to a different part of the mall, checking every entrance that he finds along the way and they’re all boarded up better than they were when he used to walk around here before you captured him. He does appreciate the effort you went through to make sure nothing could get in if you weren’t going to give him a weapon, and he couldn’t escape. 

There is an old music and entertainment store where you must get your princess movies and cartoons to watch. He picks through a couple, finding a couple classics that he watched before the outbreak Office Space, Dirty Harry, The Thing, Top Gun. 

He grabs a couple more that he watched as a kid with his dad and grandpa; The Magnificent 7, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. He grabs the three original Star Wars movies as well– the best ones, the only ones worth watching. The ones that started to come out right before the outbreak– Joel can’t even talk about it. 

He’s done his exploring and now he sits outside of the mattress store waiting for you to wake up and let him back in. As soon as Joel unwraps the sandwich and jerky you made him, that stupid fucking oppossum comes scampering along like this is it’s dinner too. 

“Get the hell outta here,” Joel grumbles, waving his hand in its direction, trying to scare it off– but it persists. 

Inching closer and closer until Joel could kick it if he wanted to. 

Kinda cute in the little collar.

Joel tosses a piece of his sandwich a good distance away and Puddin’ chases after it while Joel digs into his own portion. 

Hours and hours go by, you sleep for so fucking long. He reads all of the comic books that he grabbed and even goes back to the bookstore to look for more. He finds nothing else that interests him so he goes to your bookshelf in the department store and grabs a couple from there to look at. 

He’s flipping through the skill maker book when you finally wake up and open the grate. 

Joel scrambles to his feet, watching as you rub your eyes with your one free hand, the other still has the remote tapped to your palm. 

The two of you stare at each other for several silent moments before you notice the book in his hand. 

“Just put it back where ya’ found it when you’re done with it, ‘kay?” Your voice is deep and filled with sleep. 

Joel nods his head, and puts the book in his backpack. “Yeah, sure– hey where did all the infected go?” He questions as you toss your own pack over your shoulder and head in the direction of the food court. 

“Cleared ‘em out the other day.”

“How the hell did you do that? When? After we–”

“Yup.” You cut him off with a sharp, short response. “Wasn’t that many. Kinda easy when you get high ground on ‘em.” 

Joel eyes dart up to the rafters and wonders how good you are with a bow and arrow. He knows Ellie is a great shot, loves her bow and arrow. “And you moved ‘em all out on your own?” 

“Yup.” 

“How did you even get out of the bathroom?” Joel’s been wondering that this whole time. 

You walked into the bathroom, slammed the door and the next time he saw you was coming down the stairs to the basement. 

He wonders if you’re even real. 

Ohh our lil puppy is real alright.

If you knew that Mister-J was going to ask all of these questions you might not have ever taken the duct tape off. 

Where did the infected go? What if more get in? How did you get out of the bathroom? Where are you going now? When will you be back? Are you okay? Are you mad? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you answering me? 

He’s so nosy! Asking more questions than any of the other guys combined. 

Why does he even care? 

Shhhhh, this is what makin’ friends is, Sweetheart. 

“Used the vents to get out of the bathroom,” you sigh, not stopping or slowing down but Joel keeps up anyway, his arm brushing yours as he walks alongside you.

“What about the infected– you know the spores–” 

“I burn ‘em outside at night when it’s real dark–” you explain to him quickly. “I ain’t stupid. I know ‘bout the spores. I know how the fungus works. I paid attention,” you huff softly as you reach the ladder that takes you up into the rafters and eventually out onto the roof.

Mister is too big, and probably too clumsy to follow you up here. 

“M’just goin’ to get some more food… I’ll be right back– couple of minutes, okay?”

Mister looks relieved when you say this, his face relaxes and he sighs softly. “Okay, just be careful.” 

— -- --- ---

“Is that my shirt?” He asks about the green and red flannel you have on when you come out of the women’s restroom in the food court. Your hair is clean, your body feels refreshed after taking a shower. 

Mister looks good too with his hair slicked back, and his beard trimmed neatly. 

You nod, not taking your eyes off of him. It’s almost impossible when he looks like a brand new man- handsome. He looks like he’s lost weight since he’s been here with you. 

You’ll fix that. He needs to eat more than you, and he wants meat so… you’ll go get it for him. Real meat this time, even if it makes you sad how you have to get it.

“Yeah, I took it ‘cause it smelled like you.” You admit with no shame. That’s exactly why you took it. So you could sleep with it so he could warm up to his new house, with his new friend. 

Mister-J chuckles, and shakes his head at you with a smirk plastered across his face. “Someone told me I stink once,” he says through his laughter. 

This makes you smile because he’s happy. He looks happy, like he doesn’t mind talking to you, he’s not saying mean things. He’s sharing. 

Told ya’ he’d get comfortable. Just had to be patient. We figured it all out eventually. 

“You do stink sometimes, but you smell real, so I don’t mind.” You share with him as you lead him back to the mattress store. He carried the TV up earlier and said he found a couple movies he wanted to watch. They don’t really look like movies you want to watch, but you’ll give them a shot.

Anything for Mister-Joel, perfect, sweet man. 

It doesn’t make this easier. Mister wants to sleep in the bed next to you, said he wanted to warm you up, but now you’re next to him again and it feels like you could burst into flames and tears all at the same time. 

“What’s your name?” He whispers into your ear, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding onto you tightly from behind. 

“Why?” The sirens go off inside your head. No one’s asked you that in so long, it makes your stomach flip and you feel like you could be sick. 

“Told’ya mine,” He murmurs into your hair. 

Joel. 

When you go to answer, the words don’t come because the memories are gone. You can see your mom and dad talking to you inside your head but their voices are on mute. The name never leaves their mouth.  “I don’t remember…”

OFC thank you @pedrospookie for making this cutie banner and letting me scream at about all of this!!

I need to give an extra special shout-out to the couple of other people I screamed at about this. @almostempty @gothcsz( your music recs inspired me) and thanks to @probablyreadinsmut and my unnamed friend who helped me with the TW of the chapter.

I was especially nervous to post this because I didn't want to ruin anyone's day or send anyone into their own spiral. I hope you all are OK!

thank you to everyone who has been reading!! I've never gotten such incredible feedback on a fic before and you are all so nice and make writing this story that much more fun. I LOVE YOU

TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22 @baronessvonglitter @joelmillerisapunk @syd-djarin @probablyreadinsmut @itwasntimethatdidit40 @letsgobarbs @lovehappyloki @joelalorian @pedrostories @evolnoomym @valkyreally @youdontknowe @corazondebeskar-reads @pastelpinkflowerlife @tobethlehem

please don't hate me if I forgot you, I have a hamster brain, ok?