#and of course she'd have NONE of that

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

More of the brain worm that has taken me over, gonna probably post it to Ao3 here before too long. Already got another part started and so many ideas for additional stuff, someone please send help I've been consumed by this thing lol

Sorry if Waller seems out of character, outside of fandom I'm mostly familiar with her through Justice League the animated show & Justice League: Unlimited and her vibe there has always struck me as "deeply incredibly unlikable character that also kind of has a point but also has done so much fucked up shit in the name of her goals that you don't really care about her point anymore." So you know, complicated lol. If she's completely unrecognizable let me know, but I'm hoping she feels at least somewhat like Waller.

Forgot to say this in the last update, but still feel free to use all this as an overly long prompt if yall want. Literally anything I throw out to the void should be treated as a prompt lol If there's anything at all interesting to you in any of this nonsense go for it <3 <3 <3

---

Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.

Ruthless, heartless, vicious, cruel.

She’d been called it all. Wore the words thrown as insults as a badges of pride and valor. Because at the end of the day, when it came to the problems she was given to face, the issues she was meant to solve, those words meant she’d done what others had been too squeamish or cowardly to do. Life was a never ending slog of trolley problems and she the only one unshakable enough to pull the levers that needed pulling.

It wasn’t so simple as a matter of greater good.

Greater good was what the weak willed muttered to themselves after having feelings over doing the bare minimum. A justification used by people on all sides to do what they wanted with fractured, faulty logic thrown around like truth was a thing immutable. To assuage their guilt when they were forced to make a call they didn’t want to.

It wasn’t a matter of greater good. It was a matter of preservation. Of protection. Of digging through the filth to find the threats skittering beneath and crush them with ruthless abandon. Of facing a god and not blinking because if you did it could cost the world.

Of doing what needed to be done, no matter how underhanded or atrocious it was.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands wrapped tight around the throat of something that could threaten to destroy it all.

When the Ghost Investigation Ward had been shoved her way with it’s sucking wound of a budget, it’s bloated incompetent staff, its asinine methods she’d seen a rotted limb in need of hacking off. It hadn’t been until she’d been conducting her inspection, digging through the trash for a few pearls of effective agents she could snatch up and put to work elsewhere, that she’d truly seen what they were working on. The potential.

Potential to better arm themselves with in the forms of the strange new weapons being created.

Potential for threats far greater than anything even she had thought possible before.

The GIW as it had been when she’d first come across it was a fetid waste of time and resources. A laughing stock agency only secret because no one took them seriously enough to look. Made stupid and useless with its own conceited delusions of importance it didn’t actually have. Yet.

She went to work on it. Hacking away as she’d originally intended, but this time with a different goal in mind. She ripped out the weeds with bare, calloused hands and planted proficiency and loyalty in their place. She took over as director herself, tossing the self-aggrandizing fool that had been running the place into the ground to the dogs as the culprit for misappropriate spendings, saving the agency by tweaking things until their ballooning budget was pinned neatly onto the former director as an embezzling charge.

Then she got to work.

The Fentons were brilliant, if entirely insane. But Amanda could work with that. She’d reigned Harley Quinn in - more or less - she could do the same to the two deranged scientists that so eagerly wanted to be apart of the fight against the dead. Especially when the benefit came in the form of the inventions they threw together so easily, especially when those inventions were weapons.

It took very little to get them on board with her plans for the GIW. Keeping their focus could be a chore, at times, but she didn’t even have to really do much in the way of pressing to get them back where she wanted them. They craved knowledge and understanding nearly as much as they craved the eradication of the entities themselves. Letting them have the first look at a new subject here, free reign over a vivisection there, it took so little to fuel their fervor and keep them busy working on the projects she set for them.

Things had been going smoothly.

For a time at least.

Until Phantom.

He’d been the main focus of the previous director’s attention, the big fish he’d so desperately wanted to catch and put up on his wall. Amanda wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a tempting prospect, but not one she’d put above the other projects she had set in motion since taking over. No, Phantom was powerful, enough to be a real problem one day, but she could the awkward youth in the way he held himself, the inexperience in how he handled situations. She had time to get everything else in order before focusing on getting Amity Park’s would-be hero brought to heel.

And he would be brought to heel. One way or another.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands wrapped tight around the Core of a fledgling god and bending him to her will.

An artifact, old an powerful, recovered with some effort. A means of controlling specters, of chaining them to the will of the artifact’s wielder. Dangerous in the wrong hands. Dangerous in the right hands.

It was shattered, and even whole and functional Phantom was resistant to its power. But Amanda Waller prided herself in her ability to see the potential in things. It could be repaired, be made better. Even gods could be bound, be made to kneel, with the right pieces, with the right application of force.

It was just a matter of time to gather everything needed.

Phantom didn’t know he could single handedly destroy every last member of the Justice League. The baby fat, the innocent eyes, the split-second hesitations when he fought. He knew enough to be confident in fighting the usual ghosts that haunted Amity Park, but he still very much saw himself as a little fish. Maybe it was the part of him that was still Daniel Fenton, gangly teenager not quite sure what he was truly capable of yet.

She had time before the Fenton’s son truly became an issue. Time to judge if his parents’ obsessiveness would overcome their - rather shoddy, by Amanda’s estimation - parental instincts and continue to hunt him once they knew the truth. Time to get as much out of them as she could before hand, should they falter at the idea of attacking their own son. Time for the staff to be repaired and returned to working order, to get the other items needed for the truly big fish hidden on the other side of the veil between worlds.

She had time.

Until she didn’t.

Pariah Dark had not been something she thought she’d have to account for - not yet, at least.

If he wasn’t already dead, she’d ring the Ghost King’s neck with her bare hands. His arrival had opened Phantom’s eyes to what he was capable of, of just how big of a fish he was. Worse still, Phantom’s defeat of the war mongering King changed the state of play. Phantom was no longer an impressively powerful half dead teenager.

He was King Infinite.

He was an Ancient.

He was getting on her last damn nerves.

Phantom’s rogue gallery were now firmly under the boy’s control. Still distinct nuisances around Amity Park, but no longer considered true concerns. They were loyal to their boy king, delighting in ruffling his feathers but never crossing the line into treason or attempted regicide. Which meant that the GIW was the only thing that held his attention.

Amanda took the time to send a care package to the former GIW director in his tiny, dank prison cell. As thanks for his carelessness in revealing to the entire town - both living and dead - of the agency’s existence and their intentions. Had he stuck to standard protocol, Phantom would have been none the wiser to their presence. Would have scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders at the ghost that went missing upon occasion. Would have been boredly uninterested in the people his parents had begun working with. Would have been taken by surprise when they finally came for him.

But no.

No that self-obsessed, fame chasing imbecile had to go and announce to everyone and their dead mother that the GIW existed and exactly what it was they were in Amity Park to do.

Phantom knew what they were there to do.

They could only count on his naive certainty that he could broker peace with them for so long.

Peace. As if he and his people weren’t the invading force, the monsters slipping in through the cracks between worlds, the latest threat that had to be accounted for. As if he himself hadn’t rent their world asunder himself in another world, another time. No. Peace was not something they could hash out with this baby-faced monarch with his too-big crown. Peace was the assurance of safety, security. Of control of the situation.

There could be no peace.

The higher ups were somehow surprised when Phantom took that to mean there would be war.

Amanda Waller was not.

The Fentons, as suspected, took the right side when all was revealed. Steady hands and flinty eyes as they crafted the weapons that would be needed for the coming fight. Minds even sharper in their maddened grief, hearts set on revenge for the son lost and the entity that stole his face and friends and sister in his garish pretense at humanity. They were blinded to the reality of the situation in its entirety, the potential in what their son truly was, but at the end of the day it didn’t really matter. They did what she needed them to do, they could believe whatever it was they wanted so long as they did.

By the time the boy king and his armies marched upon the Amity park facility, preparations had been put into place. The base in Amity had been stripped back to bare essentials, everything of importance moved to more secured locations.

The weapons labs.

The artifact.

The girl.

All tucked well away from the front lines where Phantom and his motley crew could not reach. Their time to be put in play would come, but not yet. First she needed to gauge what Phantom and his people were capable of, what they were willing to do in the name of what they wanted. Amity Park was a pawn well sacrificed on that front. As were the other facilities she’d left easy to find.

The problem with making children gods, with giving them crowns and calling them King and giving them armies to play with, was that they thought there should be rules. That even in the trenches tearing apart their enemies, there was a certain level of playing fair that everyone was held to. They thought there was a way the world worked, of how things should be that blinded them to more effective options even as time stretched on and desperation set in.

It was the Dead’s problem though, not hers.

She reached out to the Justice League. Sour faced, unhappy, bitterly reluctant to accept that she needed their help. Stone faced and barely containing their rage at what little they knew of the situation, they agreed to a meeting.

She didn’t let herself smile until she was well and truly alone in her office.

Greater good. A lie people told themselves. A fairytale told to children. A means of convincing the weaker willed that they had no choice, that they had a noble duty to bend to. A belief that could be wielded like a weapon if the fantasy of the idea had dug in deep enough. And there were few it had dug into so deep as the members of the Justice League.

Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands clenched tight on a victory long in the making.

---

Part Four

[yutadori]

it's so crazy and isolating hearing my friends talk about how they want kids u__u

[cyberstabbing]

so dizzy and so out of it and once again my life in spiraling out of control due to my own laziness and procrastination

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 1. Interview

Masterlist

SUMMARY: After Riley's injury on a mission, she can no longer be a part of the task force. Simon reluctantly starts looking for a dog-sitter to watch her while he's away for work, and that's when you show up on his doorstep.

Warnings: none

Simon Riley would have laughed if anyone had suggested that he needed a dog-sitter.

Riley, his eighty-pound German Shepherd and only family (outside of the 141, of course), went with him everywhere. Grocery store? There she was, K-9 vest on to avoid getting the stink eye from trouble-stirring strangers. Missions? She was there, working alongside Simon, and when she couldn't join, she was safe and tucked away on the animal unit back on base. At the small, one-story unit he called home? You'd better believe she's sitting on the couch next to him as he watches the telly, trying not to succumb to his daily nap. He never considered having a dog-walker care for her, since there was hardly a second where she wasn't walking right there with him.

But of course, as expected - life threw him a curveball.

The mission had gone well so far; everyone was booking it to exfil, hardly worrying about the few enemies left who could barely manage to fire their guns. Simon and Riley were sprinting to the heli, Simon already imagining how he was going to take a fat nap when he got back to base, when he heard it - amidst the sparce gunshots, Riley's pained yelp.

Simon had never shot someone so fast, but before he knew it, there was a bullet planted between the enemy soldier's eyes. Simon rushed to scoop Riley into his arms as she whined and howled - he loaded her onto the helicopter with Soap's help, hands shaking as he looked for the damage. Her right hind leg was bleeding, and every time he tried to look at it, she snapped her teeth in his direction with a shrill yap.

Simon couldn't hear Price as he promised to get her into surgery ASAP. He didn't register Gaz wrapping gauze around her leg as he carried her off the heli and into the medbay. He couldn't hear Johnny trying to comfort him as they stood in the hall, waiting for her to come out of the operating room so Simon could finally see her again. The only thing he could comprehend was her cries, her blood, and the fact that he was responsible for all this.

It wasn't a lethal injury, he knew that. But he assumed, and the vet later confirmed that she wouldn't be fit to continue working. And that terrified him. He had to continue working - what would happen to her? He wouldn't put her up for adoption, in fact, he'd nearly bit the head off the poor soldier who had suggested the idea. She'd be coming home with him, once she had fully healed, but then what? How would he take care of her when he had to go on missions?

He couldn't. Much to his chagrin, and as much as he hated the thought of her being under anyone else's responsibility, he was forced to hire a pet-sitter. He begrudgingly posted ads online, and even put his request up at the local doggie-daycare, despite having never sent Riley there. It didn't take long after bringing Riley home before people began to answer his ad, and he plucked a good handful of them to interview over the weekend.

So, there he was - sitting in the breakfast nook with Riley at his feet, silently judging each interviewee that had walked into his home. He was quite disappointed in the selection.

Simon had already decided 'no' to nearly every dog sitter that had answered his ad. He sat across from them as they described their skills and achievements, bored out of his mind as they treated the interview like it was a college application. He didn't want an egotistical, decorated twat caring for his dog... if Riley didn't care about this bloke being voted 'dog-walker of the month' by the doggie daycare, why should he?

He knew it came down to much more than that - but he was going by Riley's reaction, too. And so far, she was uninterested in all seven that he had interviewed thay day. She sat by Simon's feet, bum leg out and eyes zoning out on the stranger's shoes as they droned on. No one had actually paid much attention to her, instead focusing on impressing Simon.

He hated to admit it, but a boarding house for dogs might be the best option.

He had just scratched the second to last name off of his list of interviewees, pouring himself a cup of coffee at 4 pm, when a knock rapped at his door. He sighed, looking down at Riley; she was laying on her side, huffing at the fact that the random visits from random people was still going on.

"One more, eh?" Simon said, reaching down to ruffle her ears. She groaned through her nostrils in annoyance as he straightened out and walked towards the door.

He reluctantly opened it to find you standing there.

You, with nothing but your phone and keys, wearing a t shirt, oversized plaid, leggings, and sneakers. No folder full of resumes and reviews, no bone-shaped doggie bag holders... the only other thing you had was an apologetic look on your face.

"Hi." You said warily.

"Evenin'." Simon responded, leaning against the door.

You sighed. "I should let you know- well, aren't I being rude..." You rolled your eyes at yourself and stuck your hand out at him. You stated your name with a sheepish smile.

He stared at your hand for a second, before shaking it with his own. "Simon."

The way your eyes lingered on his hand after he had gripped it so firmly didn't go unnoticed by him - but you quickly regained focus. "Well - before you waste your time on me, I should explain: I didn't read the posting correctly, and I thought this was a house-sitting gig. Only just noticed when I checked the address before I left... figured I'd still stop by since I told you I would."

You were looking at the ground out of embarrassment at this point. Simon's brow furrowed as he observed you. House-sitting isn't horrendously different from pet-sitting... he thought. "Well-"

"But I love dogs!" You quickly interjected. "Had three of them growing up, two bullies and a golden! Loves of my life, they are- never a day I didn't walk them. Well, besides that one week for Becca's wedding- and when my Nan had that nasty virus and I had to check up... on her..."

Simon's raised brow must have made you realize the tangent you had embarked on, because you snapped your mouth shut. You cleared your throat nervously and shifted on your feet.

Simon was the tiniest bit entertained. "And how's your Nan now?" He asked.

"Oh, much better." You said with a smile. "'Course, that was four years ago... she- she's alive, I mean! God, that sounded morbid, didn't it?"

Simon huffed out a laugh, before he stepped to the side and nodded his head towards the inside. "C'mon in - you came out this way, might as well chat. Could maybe use a house-sitter, too."

You muttered a quick 'thanks' and stepped inside, immediately taking note of how pristine and bare the home was. No decorations, only dark grey furniture with darker accents... the closest thing to decor was probably the mauve throw blanket over the back of the sofa.

"You like cleaning?" You speculated, following Simon into the kitchen.

"Not home enough to get it dirty." He replied nonchalantly, seating himself at the breakfast nook. He took a sip from his mug as he shoved a hand in his sweatshirt pocket. "Coffee?"

"Oh, no thanks." You shook your head politely. "Not now, anyways. I'll be up all-"

You cut your reasoning short when you spotted Riley, sitting still by Simon's feet. "Oh, hello!" You chirped, lowering yourself down to your knees and reaching your knuckles towards her, palm-up. "You must be Riley!"

She hesitated, then sniffed your knuckles, huffed, sniffed again, and thumped her tail slowly. She tilted her head back and looked at Simon with a questioning glance.

He chuckled, rubbing between her ears. He watched as you fished a small baggie from your pocket, taking out one of the lumpy, golden balls from the contents. You held it up for Simon to see.

"Peanut butter bacon cookie." You said, and Riley sniffed the air between her and the treat. "No sugars, no preservatives. Picked some up from the daycare on the way here."

Simon nodded once. "You can give-"

Before he could finish, Riley flawlessly snatched the cookie from between your fingers, downing it in a few bites. She licked her lips and stared at you as you laughed.

"Where are your manners?!" You said, poking her side. She followed your finger with her nose, searching for another treat.

You looked back at Simon. "I hope that was alright."

Simon shrugged, though he silently scolded Riley for accepting something from a stranger so quickly. "She'll survive."

Over the next hour - which was twice as long as he had entertained anyone that day - Simon listened to you ramble about your qualifications. Except, you didn't mention reviews, awards, or self achievements. You talked about your family dogs (the two pitbulls, Rowena and Charlemagne, and the golden retriever, Donald). You described the time you took care of your neighbor's schnauzer and home when she had to make a last minute trip to Berlin for two weeks. You talked about the best trails for dogs based on the texture of the ground and the environment (the younger dogs liked Swan's trail more, due to the thicker, woody area; older ones seemed to like Ellington park, where it was more of a suburban area with smoother paths). You rattled on about how that damn husky in the apartment across from you is always yelling, and how you really should invest in some noise-cancelling headphones.

Simon listened to every word you said. You seemed to know more than just how to walk a dog - it was almost as if you knew their language. You didn't just live with them, you cared about their personalities and preferences. He had a subconscious appreciation for how you regarded them - despite trying to keep up the act thay he was unhappy about needing a dog-sitter, he liked you.

And clearly, so did Riley. She was laying at Simon's feet, completely relaxed, eyes flitting between you and your hand movements as you spoke. You would occasionally look down to her, as if you were letting her know that she was also a part of the conversation, and she would lift her head ever so slightly and stare back - like she was listening.

"- and she decided that the day before my biochemistry exam, she was going to take her frustration out on my notes! Papers everywhere, even my sticky notes were torn up! You'd think she had a personal vendetta against me, wouldn't you?" You looked down at Riley for affirmation, and she looked back at you and slapped her tail against the floor a few times.

Simon chuckled, then sighed. "Well- I think you're more than qualified for this, and I think she likes you." He nudged Riley with his foot, who looked at him and huffed.

Your eyes widened. "Does that mean I got the job?"

He nodded. "Don't know when I'll be deployed next, but it should be soon. I'll send you an email with Riley's routine, and if you want to make some extra cash, I'll include some things you can do around the house."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" You exclaimed. You leaned down to Riley, who reached her head out and sniffed the air between your faces. "Ya hear that girl? You're stuck with me!"

Simon chuckled and stood up, followed by you and Riley. "You can expect to hear from me by Tuesday. I'll give you the spare key the morning I head out."

You followed him out of the kitchen and towards the front door. Riley pushed past you to stay close to Simon's side.

"That's fine. My schedule's flexible, I don't do much besides babysit. Also, let me know her preferences, like where she likes to walk, treats, toys, things like that."

Simon opened the door for you and you stepped outside, turning to face him on the landing. "Also - glad you didn't go with Mitchell. Bloke's a fraud."

Simon's brow raised as he leaned against the door. "S'cuse me?"

"Daniel Mitchell. Saw him on your piece of paper there." You replied, making Simon look down at the crumpled list of interviewees in his hand. "He was NOT dog-walker of the month - in fact, he was turned away when he applied to work at the daycare. He treated the dogs like they were cats, for gods sake! Said they don't actually need to be walked n' you can just let them in the backyard for a few minutes. He's out of his head!"

You sighed, tugging your keys out of your flannel pocket. "Anyways, I should get going. I'll look out for your email!" You turned and departed down the walkway, not sparing Simon a second glance as you left him in the doorway. "See you soon!"

He watched you climb into your small car, returning the wave you gave him before you pulled out of his driveway and disappeared down the street. Simon felt an odd stillness in his home - you had came and went like a storm, and the only evidence that you were ever here was the small baggie of peanut butter and bacon cookies on the kitchen table. He sighed, closing his front door and looking down at Riley.

"She's either gonna be the best, or the worst." He said, running a hand down his face.

Riley let out a groan, which turned into a high-pitched growl. She shifted her weight back and forth on each foot anxiously.

He raised an eyebrow. "Want t' go see Johnny?" He asked. She barked at the familiar name, running to where her leash hung in the closet.

He supposed it was about time. He hadn't seen his team since she was sent home. He knew she was probably aching to see someone other than him right now, and he was honestly going a little stir crazy himself, after spending so much time in the normal, civilian world.

He moved next to her, grabbing the leash and snapping it to her collar. She immediately ran back to the door and waited for him to open it, and he laughed.

"A'right, a'right... but no tackling Price this time. Nearly took out a few of his teeth last time, ya ninny."

Next ->

[dalla-mia-isola-strana]

Neil Gaiman is accused of sexual assault, sexual coercion and rape

A third woman came forward a couple of days ago.

None of the problems people had with the other podcast (and to be honest, I think those arguments mostly just represent the denial and bargaining phases of grief) apply to this one. This woman says she only came forward because the Tortoise podcast made her aware she wasn't alone. Until then she'd believed him when he told her it was just her. Good Omens fans, I'm sorry if you're hearing this from me (although unfortunately it does matter that you hear it from someone). If you had heard but tried to look the other way -- listen, I know this is shocking and heartbreaking. It is of course up to you how you participate in fandom from here. But please stop tagging your fandom posts "Neil Gaiman". You are ensuring that anyone searching for information is going be swamped with Good Omens fanart and S3 countdown posts and pictures of socks(?) and photos of actors who have nothing to do with this. They might then conclude that there's nothing to these allegations. And that matters: at present, aside from Rolling Stone and the two podcasts, this story hasn't received much press attention. The latest survivor says that she tried reaching out to reporters and was told her story "wasn't enough." So at least for now, social media sites do matter as a record on this. When you drown out this story with your fandom feelings, you are helping, whether or not you realise it, to cover it up. And considering that he seems to have targeted fans who trusted him... I don't even want to finish that thought. So please, stop. Do what you want in the other, more relevant tags. But you're likely to have a better experience if you start trying to separate it from him, anyway.

UPDATE, 01/08/2024: Two more women have come forward, bringing the current total to five. The very grim details are here.

[ishipgenfics]

Outsider POV on Somewhere Else Jonathan Sims must be just. so much.

Like imagine. You're part of a support group, and a new guy decides to join. You ask him his name and he says, "Jonathan," and then after a long pause, "Blackwood. Jonathan Blackwood. But call me Jon."

He doesn't like tape recorders. You only know this because the person who hosts the support group is into retro things, and tries to keep a couple around. She turned one on once when someone asked about it, and you noticed Jon clutching his nails into his hands so tight he's nearly breaking the skin. You lean over and whisper, "Do you want me to ask her to stop?" He says, "It's fine," and you nod, but you still try and change the subject whenever people bring up tape recorders from that point on.

He full-body flinches one day when someone says Hello, Jon. Nearly slams into a wall and everything. He tries to play it off, but after that people say Hi Jon, or Nice to see you, or things like that. Anything but Hello.

He says he used to work at a 'non-profit for studying the supernatural'. Someone asks where it was and he says London. You tell your wife about it, and two days later she emails you an article. Magnus Institute Burns Down In 1999. It was in Manchester. You tell her not to bring it up again.

The guy is snarky and blunt and downright rude at times, but when a woman comes in and tells them about being trapped in a empty warehouse for a week, he comforts her in a way none of the rest of them know how. "I believe you," he says, repeats it like a mantra, like a prayer. "I believe you." He says 'I'm sorry' less like he's sorry this happened to her, and more like he's taking the blame onto himself.

He talks about Martin, sometimes. His reason, he calls him. Normally you'd point out that while it's of course good to love your partner, you should have other reasons to live, but you stay quiet. This guy needs all the happiness he can get.

You leave a little late that day, and when you do you hear him on the phone talking to someone. "She'd been touched by the Lonely, Martin!" he says. "Which is bad, of course, but--" he seems to choke up, "Martin, I didn't feel any compulsion for a Statement. A-at all. I think it's really gone."

You just walk by.

You don't know what's going on with Jon, but it really isn't any of your business. You're an anxious queer lesbian and he's a traumatized ace guy, and you aren't going to make his life any harder than you have to.

Just. Jonathan Sims in a support group.

[alchemistc]

"I am not packing your kitchen, Buck," Maddie says with a hard set to her jaw and a hand planted on her hip, and Evan sends her a warning look over his shoulder, elbow deep in packing tape and half-folded boxes. Tommy is clearly missing something.

"You found the ring cutter in there with the ladles too, huh?" Snipes Eddie from somewhere in the vicinity of the bathroom, and before Tommy can get a firm grasp on that Eddie's tipping his head back through the open doorway. "C'mon guys, seriously, you didn't pack this shit up before you forced us all to help you pack?" There's an unopened tube of lube in his hand.

"I'm getting things off of walls and that is all, Evan Buckley," comes Maddie's quick rejoinder, and Buck levels them both with a look.

"That could be for normal stuff! Sometimes rings need cutting! Sometimes you need to - lubricate other things!"

It is, of course, the moment Bobby wanders through the unlocked door.

Tommy's still familiar with the cadence of Hen and Howie, ribbing and mocking a form of endearment for them both, so he's not exactly shocked when Bobby just rolls with it and starts listing off the last fifteen calls they've needed it for. None of those things particularly improve the red rising up Evan's cheekbones, but Tommy catches the grin Bobby's hiding while he sets boxes of pizza up at the kitchen table, cleared of the latest seasonal decor Evan had dragged him through three different department stores to find, not that he could be bothered to care when the very existence of them was all it took to shift Maddie's opinion of him from tolerantly friendly to encouragingly approving.

("This loft was a minimalists wet dream before you were in the picture," she'd told him one evening, after she'd manipulated him into admitting he was terrified this didn't mean the same thing to Evan as it did to him. "He started nesting a month after my wedding, Tommy.")

And now they're here. Watching Evan pretend to be miffed by the teasing while he fights a roll of packing tape.

He's going to miss the upstairs shower, wide enough for two grown men to fit more than comfortably; and the balcony on cooler nights when he could tempt Evan out for a slow dance set to the late-evening traffic; the kitchen island at the perfect height to lift Evan onto and tilt his head up for an angled kiss.

He won't miss the open plan that makes it impossible to do much of anything with a snoring Eddie right below them, the tuba player two doors down who only seems to practice the moment Tommy's head meets the pillow at the end of any random days-long shift, the way the elevator always smells like tuna on Thursday afternoons.

There are things he won't have to miss, of course. Evan, on nights when they just can't make their schedules align well enough to justify the drive time. The extra fluffy towel set Evan had refused to reveal the origin of ("You'll buy your own and leave me, I know you're only with me for my towels."). The pictures plastered to the fridge that Tommy's spent the last few weeks plotting out space for on his own before deciding he'd need a new fridge just to fit them all. The plant he'd bought Evan to appease the grump, the first time he'd dragged him to the farmers market at the ass crack of dawn, lovingly named Herbert. The fancy adjustable bedside lamps Evan had bought the last time he'd caught Tommy squinting down his reading glasses at the book in his hands. Evan.

Christ, he wouldn't have to miss Evan anymore. They'd synched up their schedules more or less as well as they could, but Tommy's spent months now trying to ignore how quickly a sleepless night could turn restful with Evan in his bed - how fitful a night without him there had a habit of being.

Most of the loft is already packed. Evan's wardrobe has been dwindling for weeks now, a box at a time carted from the back of the Jeep up Tommy's drive, through the mud room, down the hall and straight to the closet that had never seen such a shock of color or variety of fabric. They'd sprung for a bigger mattress, once they'd gotten over the sticker shock and remembered how much they'd be saving by paying half a mortgage each with no rent to speak of, and other than the kitchen table most of Evan's other furniture was being donated.

All that really remained were the kitchen supplies Evan hadn't been willing to move until he handed over his keys, a few toiletries, a single drawer of clothes just in case he needed them. Pictures on the walls and stacks of books on the bookshelves - half a decade of life lived in this apartment and most of it was already half unboxed and slowly integrating into the fifteen years Tommy had put into his own solitary life.

Evan finishes taping boxes and makes a beeline for his itemized list, and Tommy has to pretend it's giving him as much grief as Evan's sister and best friend to see the clipboard in action. He's not entirely sure how well he sells it, when even Bobby's shooting him aggrieved looks only to grimace at whatever he finds in Tommy's expression.

And just like that, an hour passes and the pizza disappears; the boxes are loaded into the back of his truck; the kitchen table in Eddie's; and Maddie tugs her brother in for a hug, drags Tommy in for good measure too, kisses them both on the cheek as she leaves; Bobby tucks a wooden box filled with handwritten recipes on note cards into Evan's hand and Tommy pretends not to notice either of their teary eyes; Eddie hefts a six pack out of the otherwise empty fridge and promises to meet them at the house in forty-five.

There's still one picture stuck to the fridge - a candid from the first barbeque Athena and Bobby had hosted after their move, Tommy and Evan backlit by a setting sun, tucked up against each other leaned against a porch railing, and Tommy knuckles at it while Evan does a slow introspective spin to take in the wide expanse of windows and brick. He's still staring when Evan finishes and drifts towards him, hands tucking in at Tommy's waist, chin hooking over his shoulder.

"Is this one staying?"

Evan shakes his head, nose digging into the side of Tommy's neck. "Just wanted to keep it out so it could be the first one we put up."

He remembers the night. Karen had gotten him drunk and added him to the wives group chat. May Grant had stolen half his slice of cake right off his plate and dared him to protest. Jee had spent the entire night calling him Uncle Tommy and thrown a massive fit when she realized he wasn't going home with her to read a bedtime story. Christopher and Denny had spent half an hour trying to teach him how to play Fortnite and then been mystified when he trounced them in Mario Kart. He knows exactly why it's significant to him. "Why this one?" he asks, curving into the cradle of Evan's arms.

Evan's so much better with words than Tommy is, and Tommy's just grateful Evan takes his actions for the things he means with them. "That's the night I knew what our something was gonna be," Evan murmurs, and Tommy tips his chin back and angles his head to catch Evan's lips against his own.

[jesswritesthat]

Atsumu Miya: Second Choice

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~2.2k, fluff

• You were never first choice, so it comes as a surprise when he notices your presence before anyone else.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

It was always the same, you'd watched as people flocked to beauty, straight past you every time. In reality when you became friends with Sachiko it was because she had a great personality, you couldn't have possibly predicted she'd become the most beautiful and popular girl in school by the time you'd reached Inarizaki High.

Regardless of her sparkling status, she remained your best friend and you'd usually be found together throughout the school premises along with anyone else who joined you at the start of first year.

When the Volleyball team grew more intoxicating, it was Sachiko who'd excitedly dragged you along to one of their home training matches. It's where you first laid eyes upon the famous Miya twins, a vicious team of spiker and setter with a serve worthy of award among them. Already they had personal fans and the cheer squad screaming their praises, you're surprised they didn't get mauled in the hallways.

Now you'd seen them, you recognised them in school and they apparently had space to breathe aside from the odd confession here and there. You'd regularly seen that with Sachiko though, she'd often be either pulled to the side or you'd bear witness to some lovestruck soul gushing their heart out for her.

It was humbling in a way, you were the one who goes unnoticed but notices everything. Including if feelings were reciprocated, and you're certain you deducted gossip before it even became that, you'd been getting accurate in predicting things lately. However, you never predicted one of them to notice you.

Especially him.

"Hey, ya in one of my classes right?" In honesty you didn't even realise it was you this voice was addressing since Sachiko lingered by your side, not until a careful tap drew your attention to the blonde twin rather than your locker.

"Huh? Oh I think so, it hasn't been long enough to learn everyone's name yet. You're the volleyball player though."

"Ah, have ya seen me play? Like it?" His head tilted in curiosity, proud smirk upon his lips.

"You were really good, you have great form when you serve." With that you nodded to him, slipping on your shoes and walking off with your best friend quickly following in tow.

"Woah— wait up!" You didn't even look back in the swarm of leaving students. "I didn't get yer name..."

———

It wasn't until a week or so later did he 'confidently' interact with you again, this time his call far more effective in hailing your attention.

"(L/n) (Y/n)!"

Immediately you spun to the origin, finding none other than Miya Atsumu dodging a group of fangirls rather effortlessly on his way to you.

"You know my name."

"Yeah 'course. You know who I am so it's only fair." It was surefire charisma, one you'd soon extinguish.

"Miya Osamu isn't it?"

"Ye—Hey?! YA GOTTA BE KIDDIN'!"

"'Tsumu shut ya mouth!" The namesake twin glared harshly at his counterpart, quickly flashing a calmer look when you'd addressed him.

"Ah, hey Miya-san. I apologise, that was my fault for winding your brother up."

"Dumbass has control of his own mouth." Osamu politely assured, meanwhile Atsumu reclaimed your peripheral with a childish pout.

"So ya knew ma name all along and decided to be freakin' mean about it? On our second meetin' too."

"I couldn't resist, you're so cute when you're mad."

"I'm— oh ya think I'm cute?" Atsumu stammered slightly, your smirk only widening upon noting the crimson tips of his ears. Honesty leaving your lips soon after.

"I think you're both handsome, as does a majority of the school body. See you Miya-san and Miy—"

"Call me Atsumu!"

"See you in class, Atsumu." You actually looked back this time, an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling flourishing within you.

———

Part of you wandered if it’d be different this time, maybe you’d found someone who was there for you and not Sachiko. Just this once. You’d spoken more in class, studied together, traded snacks, and genuinely became friends over the course of two months.

Ironically it was the same blonde who tugged you from your reverie at the your locker where you’d first spoken.

"Yer friends with Sachiko aren't ya?"

This was it, the moment you realised he was just like all others and for the first time in a long while, you were truly disappointed.

"Yes I am, and she is amazing."

"I'm aware, could ya introduce me?" He’d spoked so casually, completely unawares of the charade you donned.

"What? Too scared to introduce yourself?" Atsumu was taken aback by your mockery, smirk growing as you persisted. "She doesn't bite y'know, that's my job."

This was the second time you'd left him speechless, slamming your locker door and disappearing into the halls with a wave.

From then on you'd see them happily talking to one another, it was hard seeing them together, amusing considering you'd only known the blonde not even half the year, yet you'd liked him more than you considered possible.

The first time you'd walked into the classroom finding the pair conversing at her desk, it was like Atsumu was desperately trying to convince her of something. It was only for a brief moment but when the setter turned to see you with a suddenly concerned look, you realised you hadn't worn a facade. You were meant to smile, instead you must've looked saddened - briskly you offered a weak smirk, and span to leave the room with additional flare as to minimise suspicion.

You’d only made it three steps down the hallway when a grasp on your wrist limited your escape.

"Hey you okay?"

"Yes? Why wouldn't I be?" Came your upbeat response, even if he portrayed a careful worrisome look on his handsome features.

"Ya... ya looked upset."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm observant y'know, gotta be fer volleyball so yeah, I noticed your little slip." He was more forward this time, gesturing to you with a tilt of his head - even if he was head over heels for Sacchan, at least he still genuinely cared about you.

"It's nothing, just realised I've got a test today and that's depressing enough." You thought it was acceptably convincing, though the calculating gaze he'd locked onto yours made you reconsider.

“(Y/n) I know I can be annoyin’ but I’ll do anything I can to help y—“

“I’m fine.” You instantly corrected, reaffirmation following. “I’m fine, Atsumu.”

A gentle pat on his chest told him not to worry, and the nod you gave said you wanted to be alone. So, he let you walk away, your wrist slipping from his grip.

———

Even weirder than the smitten pair hanging out was that your conversations with Sachiko seemed to revolve around him too. Which by your deductions, meant he’d certainly made more of an impression on her than anyone else recently. Maybe Atsumu really had a shot with her…

"Atsumu is so hot isn't he?"

"I guess he keeps in shape, he has to if he wants to improve his skills."

"Uh yes... his hair suits him though, brings out the colour of his eyes~" She gleamed, searching for your reaction and once more her face dramatically dropped at the deadpan reply.

"Makes him easier to differentiate from Osamu."

"True, but I'm asking if you find him attractive?!" Her impatience had gotten the better of her, voice raised slightly out of desperation.

"Isn't that a question you should ask yourself? I haven't heard you go on about a boy this much since middle school." You quipped, raising a quizzical brow at her.

"It's not like th—"

"Oh hey! Sachiko, (Y/n), you wanna come to practice today?" Atsumus’ hollering tone interrupted the conversation, the blonde strolling into your classroom like he belonged there.

"Yes, we'd love to." Sachiko of course was ecstatic to agree, why would she say no since he’s ’so attractive’. Yourself on the other hand had replicated the Thor meme perfectly…

"Would we though?"

"Yeah ya would! C'mon~" You hadn't the chance to protest further when Atsumus' hands clamped your shoulders steering you in the direction of the gymnasium with a giggling Sachiko skipping behind.

———

When Atsumu had asked you to meet him after school before practice started toward the end of the year, you expected something food related or about homework answers, not whatever this was.

Here he stood, flowers in hand and apparently a homemade bento box offered to you with a growing blush painting his handsome features and an aura of flustering about him which was unusual in itself.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm— isn't it obvious?!"

"I have literally no idea what's going through your thick skull, Sachiko will like the flowers though." You answered honestly, crossing your arms.

"They're not for her!"

"Oh... Suna...?"

Atsumus brows furrowed at your wit, shaking his head with a huff.

"Alright ya got me, they're for Sachiko. Yer gonna deliver them since yer her best friend. Thanks and make sure ya eat some of the bento 'cuz there's stuff yer will like in it. Later!" He basically threw the flowers at you and pushed the bento box into your chest prior to storming toward the exit.

You stood dumbfounded, flicking between the two items when he placed his forehead against the door with a defeated sigh and spun on his heel.

“Go! Go on, the team are here and I don’t want ya getting hit with a face full of leather and petals.” He’d stubbornly commented, ushering you out of the gym.

Still, you shouldered your sadness, wearing false confidence like your favourite outfit as you went to find your friend (completely oblivious to the embarrassed mess whining to his teammates inside).

Sachiko squealed when she saw you, leaving her work unattended and rushing to your side admiring your haul.

"It finally happened! Oh my goodness!"

"Yeah yeah, blondie came through congratulations." You boredly spoke, placing the items down whilst she basically vibrated with pure joy.

"Congratulations indeed! Are you happy?"

"Eh. He did say we should share the lunch."

"That's... weird?" Sachikos’ prior energy disappeared as she looked to you in confusion.

"I know, that's what I thought. Apparently there's things I like in it."

"Well obviously. Atsumu made it for you."

"No, he made it for you."

A moment of silence passed, yourself and Sachiko locked in a puzzled stare off.

"Nah, let's be honest, Osamu probably made it~" You dismissively waved your hand once placing the items on her desk, although it was only you who found humour in the situation.

"No (Y/n) I'm serious! Atsumu has been asking me about you and your preferences for months and I've been super excited about it. He even wanted me to find out if you liked him or not —of course IF I found out, I would've kept it to myself— but he really likes you."

"I thought he was into you, I mean everyone is into you." You adamantly justified, as if it explained everything but Sachiko was just as passionate.

"Not him, why do you think he keeps asking you to practices or bugging you every 5 minutes?"

"To get close to you? I don't know."

"No! To get close to you!"

Widened eyes and a look of pure shock told Sachiko her words had finally resonated with you, the truth burned brightly and she could only smile as you ran.

Abandoned were the flowers as you dashed through the halls and came to a skidding halt before the gymnasium - fingertips hesitantly pausing against the door upon hearing Atsumus' cursing whines.

"I didn't even get to say! They just ran off to Sachiko!"

“Ya literally said ‘Go’.” Osamus voice maybe?

“Yeah well, I don’t ever wanna walk away from (Y/n), but it feels like they’re always walking away from me…” Atsumu trailed off, more emotion than you thought lacing his words.

"Maybe ya shouldn't have lied?" That was definitely Arans’ blunt advisory tone.

"I had no choice! They were lookin' at me with their stupid pretty eyes and askin' if it was for Sacchan and I didn't wanna disappoint 'em."

"Yer an idiot." Osamu gladly highlighted, the perfect moment to walk in and make your presence known you decided.

"I know! But—"

"Atsumu?" At the sound of your call, the entity of the team turned in your direction, the setter being the first to respond.

"Huh?! (Y/n) what are you doing here?"

Osamu and the rest of Inarizaki seemed to understand the underlying tension and were quick to evacuate the area.

"I came to tell you that Sachiko liked the flowers." You awkwardly started, Atsumu running fingers through his hair with a quiet voice.

"Oh, right."

"As did I, and I think I'd like to get you something in return."

"Eh?"

"She told me what was going on." You filled in, hands behind your back fiddling with your fingers.

"She's lying! I do not like you at all, let alone find you attractive or anything!"

Much like you predicted, he'd jumped to conclusions and had inadvertently dropped himself in it and exposed the truth Sachiko had enclosed which earned your witty reply.

"Funny, I never mentioned anything about liking me. That’s good to know~"

"Wait— then what?" Atsumu defused, utterly confused and blushing.

"And it's a shame, I was about to confess my feelings for you but I see there's no need since you 'don't like me at all'." You shrugged haphazardly, a hint of sarcasm lacing your tone but it was your statement that revitalised his spark. Enough to abruptly skid in front of you with a commendable justification when you’d started to turn around.

"You still can, nothin' to lose and all that." A half smile was sent to you, hazel eyes meeting yours. “And please, don’t walk away from me this time.”

"I didn’t want— I mean I—“ A wistful sigh escaped you, confession imminent. “I really like you Atsumu, you're both an incredible player and a cool person so I’m glad I got to tell you that.”

“I like ya too (Y/n)! So much, and I feel more confident playing when ya come and watch. Yer smile really hypes me up y’know. If yer up for it, I’d love to spend more time with ya.”

"Yeah, I’d like that."

—

That evening, he’d offered to walk you home and there was still one thing you wanted to say after all that.

“Hey Atsumu?” A hum signified his attention. “Thank you for noticing me."

"Noticing ya?"

"Yeah, I just… I appreciate it."

"No I mean, noticing ya? I haven't noticed anyone else since I met ya."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[tan1shere]

Baby I could slow down

Ellie Williams x female reader !

A/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for far too long and I had no idea what to do until I was talking with a friend and she helped a bit, so enjoy !!

Summary: Ellie had been your tattoo artist for a bit, you hadn't gotten many tattoos in the past and if you did it wasn't anything huge. But you decided you wanted to get a tramp stamp, til things get heated.

Warnings: smut, mdni. Mirror sex, glove fixation ??? Bit filthy 😇 soft dom Ellie DUH this is me, I'm a soft dom Ellie fanatic. And sub, but kinda confident reader-? Ok that's all 😁

Masterlist

It was becoming an addiction. One tattoo was leading to 3, 6. So on and so on. You had a few tattoos already, but you decided today was the day you got a tramp stamp, you had been wanting one for some time. Only now were you going through with it. You have been going to the same artist since your first tattoo ever. She was your favorite not only was she good at her job but she was hot. And I mean hot. Everyone who knew of her thought the same thing. But she never would look at them like you. You were thankfully a tad blinded by it. Ofcourse you felt slight tension whenever you'd go, but you'd never think much of it. Until today.

You were wearing a white shirt that was tight to your skin, thin. Alongside some black jeans. It was later in the evening and you were her last for the day, which was usually the case, you would always go in the afternoon. You step through the doors, everything was quiet and it was just Ellie there. "Knock knock." You say, soon after seeing her come into the room. "Hey you." She grins slightly. You set your things down going over to the long flat table. "So a tramp stamp huh?" You nod. "Been wanting one for awhile actually." She grabs her black gloves. And you don't know what comes over you but the way she snaps it onto her hands makes you weak in the knees. You swallow, beginning to lay on your stomach on the black leather. "Haven't been in for awhile." She states, grabbing her supplies. You look infront of you, realizing the mirror was right there.

None of the tats youd get involved laying on your stomach. Ellie comes over, taking a moment looking at your curves, the way your lower back dipped as you prompted yourself on your forearms. Her gloved hands come to your sides slowly running along them, lifting your shirt in the process. Only a tiny bit before she goes to your jeans pulling them down just a smidge as you had high rise on, to get to your lower back. "This is going to look so good on you." She compliments. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You had been just getting yourself sorted that you hadn't noticed there was quiet music going on in the background. Ellie places the stencil on your skin, making sure it was placed good. Once that was all sorted.

She begins to start the pen up, you hear the vibrations. Getting ready for the slight pinchy sting. But in all honesty, it wasn't that painful usually. Her lingering touches on your sides felt nice, in a way almost teasing. "The butterfly suits you." You bit your lip slightly. And this woman looks up for a second, into the mirror. Noticing the action. You didn't dare look back. Everything was quiet in the room, the air filled with something flirty. It was starting to drive you insane.

Eventually there was some small talk, she'd ask about life recently and you did the same. Catching up from the last time you had come in. Her hands softly touch your skin, bringing the needle into your skin. It stung a tiny bit but by now you were use to it. "Comfortable?" She asks. You nod slightly. "Yeah it's easing up the more I come." You look up and in the mirror to see her smiling, yet still focusing on the tattoo. "Glad you come back to me so often." You bit your lip a little. "Yeah course, you're the best at what you do." Her smile turns into a slight grin. "Oh yeah?" That made your heart skip a beat, the way her voice was right now. You wanted to squirm but you knew you had to stay still. Which made Ellie want to tease you even more, knowing you could do nothing. The thought rolled around her brain driving her a little crazy. Her fingers lightly brush your side as she gets a different angle.

Things were quiet, you could feel the slight tension tho. The hand that was on your side now Moves to rest on the curve of your ass. Your eyes go wide at how casually she does the action. It was hot regardless. "Don't mind my hand love, just trying to find the right position." You swallow. "No thats- fine." She lets out a slight chuckle at how rushed that came out. "Just gotta get myself comfortable y'know?" You bit your lip, harder this time. You had to stay calm you couldn't make any movements. But it's as if she was testing you. You peer at her through the mirror infront of you, until you realized the needle had stopped for a second. She was looking right back at you. Your eyes locked for a good minute, when you let out a breath. "Nervous?" She blurts out. You're silent. You're afraid if you open your mouth you might moan. That just makes you shake your head out of that thought. You needed to be the one to focus because Jesus Christ.

"No, just-" But you had no idea how to cover that breath up. Fuck fuck fuck. Was this embarrassing or what. "Going too fast?" That confused you slightly, almost making you choke on your own spit. "With the tattoo darling." Oh. Your eyes blink a few time. "Uhm, yeah just a little.." Great save. She noticed how silent you were all of a sudden. "Baby, I could slow down if that's what you need me to do?" Your eyes meet in the mirror again. "Since this is bigger than you're use to." There was a slight smirk evident on her face. She knew exactly what she was doing. Wording things in such a way. "Uhm, it's ok just new to this, yeah- bigger than what I'm uhm. Use to." She just chuckles again, looking back down at the tattoo. But her focus was more on the way your back was arched. Her brain let it travel to all these thoughts. What it'd be like to see her fucking you from behind, especially with this tattoo. But that wasn't professional, was it Ellie? You let your eyes go away from the mirror, looking down at your hands.

Fuck it. She thought. She was almost done with it anyways. "Well. Whoever gets to be the one seeing this from behind is lucky. Very lucky." - "All done." She then says, to which you move sitting up. "Too bad no one gets to." You say. Ellie was sly, making sure you weren't involved with anyone by that statement. "Huh.. Shame." Your eyes meet yet again, but not before you turn your ass slightly to get a better look at it. You smile wide. "Oh my God I love it!" You beam. "Good good." She goes to clean up, about to take her gloves off when you stop her. "Wait- keep them on." She was a little shocked at the sudden request but did so anyway. You felt bold all of a sudden. "Maybe there's one person who could enjoy looking at it.. From behind." Her smirk grew. "Oh yeah? Who might that be?" You slowly stride closer. "Maybe the one who did it." She looks up at you from her seat, lust peeking through her green eyes.

Was she really going to go through with this. I mean this is her place, she could do what she liked. And it's not like she didn't know you at all. She was still looking at you. So were you, but your eyes traveled to her hands, her own tattoo. Good lord. She soon noticed making her smirk a bit with pride. She liked the way she affected you. She subtly moves her fingers around, she had it resting on her thigh. But since you were watching why not have a little fun. Her arm shortly flexes, making her slight veins stick out. You could feel your breathing getting heavier, you needed it. Needed her. Your eyes meet hers again, when suddenly she's reaching out. Grabbing the back of your thighs and swiftly pulling you onto her lap. Your breath got caught in your throat as you weren't expecting it. Her lips were immediately on yours. This kiss was well needed and hungry.

"Ever since you first came in here I've been wanting to do that." You bit your lip again, looking down at hers. "I think you should totally do it again." And she did instantly. Keeping her hands gently on your waist. "Get back on the table." She says slightly out of breath. "Only if you keep those gloves on." You smirk a lil, making her smirk too. "Yes ma'am." You try not to giggle like a pathetic little looser as she says that, getting back on the table. Her hand came in contact with your jeans before you do, yanking them down. You turn your head to look at her. She examines your body fully. "This will be fun." You smile more getting on the cushion table again. "Everytime I come for a tattoo I always wish we could do something.." You admit.

It boosts her ego crazily. She wastes no time taking your underwear off, gently pulling your legs so you're closer to her. "Mmmm." She let's out lowly. Your head lifts, looking at her in the mirror. "Want you to keep looking into it, want you to watch your face as I fuck you." You felt yourself clench around nothing, getting incredibly desperate for this now. You watch as she undoes her pants, getting out what you've been craving. "Matches the gloves, huh." Her voice made you wetter, and the thought made you close your eyes. She moves over your body grabbing a fistful of your hair, making you reopen your eyes. "What'd I say." Her voice was soft, laced with demand. "You bit your lip even harder. "To look in the mirror as you fuck me." She hums. "Good." You could feel the tip waiting to be slipped in. She does, shortly. Painfully slow if you might add. But once it was all in, you arch your back. Begging for more of it. "Haven't even moved yet babe." But you didn't care at all. You needed this. Now.

"Please." You breath, and it makes Ellie go crazy. She begins to move and not slowly either. In fact it was faster than you had anticipated. She was just as eager as you tho, the way your back arched, the way the tattoo looked. Your curves. She was loving this all too much. You look at her through the mirror, her eyes were looking at your body until then she met yours in the mirror. "Hear how wet you are? You had been wanting this huh?" You finally let out a moan, trying not to be too loud. "God you're so fine, glad you wanted this tat you look so hot with it. Especially in this position." It was her turn to bite her lip, watching as you moved on the strap too. It was intoxicating how this was all making you feel. "I'm so close." You blab, which made her speed up. Your eyes roll back, Ellie swears she could just cum at the sight of you in the mirror. The strap moving in a way that it gets her clit nice, making her groan and speed up again. "You look so good, shit."

Moans, grunts. Whines, were all that could be heard as you both come closer to your release. "Ellie i-" you were cut off by yet another moan. "I know, feel you clenching, mph. You're getting tighter." Your eyes never leave the mirror, and now so do hers. The latex of the gloves come in contact with your hips, sending you into overdrive as this gives her a better chance at slamming into you. You let out a cry of her name as you finally cum around her, Ellie looses it at the sight, the speed hitting her clit still making her cum along with you. All to be heard was heavy breaths. "It's free." She breathes out huskily.

[kaisacobra]

I See You - Tara Carpenter

Part 2 of I Dare You

Summary: At one of Amber's infamous parties, Tara's feelings get more and more complicated as she starts getting to know you.

Warnings: Fem!Painter!Reader, slow burn, mentions of sex, alcohol and partying, minor angst, non canon/high school

w.c: 6.9k

So, the glitch in the matrix seemed to be lasting much longer than you anticipated.

You did your best to forget the interaction you'd had with Tara and, honestly, that hadn't been such a difficult task. You still had a life, after all, and the rest of your day was divided into making preparations for the volunteering you'd be doing at the hospital during the weekend, studying and trying to make any progress on your painting.

Unfortunately, the last task proved itself to be annoyingly impossible, no matter how hard you tried. You'd tried everything from throwing random brushstrokes at the canvas to staring at the blank space while upside down in your bed, which filled your brain with blood but not with ideas.

There came a point when you had to admit defeat, at least for a day, and you picked up your phone to try to distract yourself from what seemed to be your greatest artistic failure. Your plans were to doomscroll through all possible social media and try to get the slightest bit of inspiration, but your attention was grabbed by a text notification coming from your Instagram.

From the username, it was clear that the text had been from none other than Tara Carpenter, which made your heart race a little in response. Your profile was a bit hard to find because there were no photos of you, which meant that Tara specifically had to look for you for a while. What's more, your profile was basically an exhibition of your artwork and the idea of someone other than your friends and teacher looking at all your projects made you a little anxious.

The texts themselves contained nothing much, apart from Tara apologizing for taking your pen (which you didn't even remember lending, to be honest) and then trying to strike up a conversation by asking you about Freddy vs Leatherface. Even so, noticing that she'd made an effort to keep on talking to you left you swooning.

You answered, of course. It would be rude to leave someone on read, wouldn't it? And besides, you were already planning to procrastinate anyway, so why not be nice and talk to Tara for a few minutes?

Who cares if minutes became hours, right?

And when school started the next day, you felt lighter, somehow. To your relief, no one seemed to remember your disastrous stumble the day before (probably because few people remembered you in general) and so you didn't have to deal with any giggles or weird looks.

You were in the middle of getting some books out of your locker when a familiar pen levitated into your field of vision. Your gaze followed the tanned arm that was holding it and you were met with long eyelashes and a sly smile.

“I'm a woman of my word! Here's your pen.” Tara raised the object towards you, making a funny reference to the text she had sent you the day before.

You rolled your eyes in amusement, although you couldn't hold the expression for long due to the corners of your lips lifting involuntarily. You took the small item from her hand and quickly put it in your bag. “Thanks, it's good to know you're not a thief. Did you at least bring one pen today?”

She understood the light, false accusatory tone in your voice and raised her hand, showing two fingers raised in a V. “Haha. Just so you know, I brought two today.”

It was amazing how instantaneous and right that conversation felt, almost as if it was the kind of thing you did all the time and not for the first time. Talking to Tara was surprisingly easy and you could see at least a friendship blooming between you in the near future.

If it weren't for the fact that she hangs out with the most insufferable people in the world, of course.

The reminder of Tara's group of friends hit you like a thunderbolt and made your chest ache for some reason. The words of both Ethan and Mindy echoed in your head, warning you to be careful, but a large chunk of your mind also insisted on reminding you of Anika's more positive opinion on the topic.

You turned to your locker again, pretending you were looking for something that didn't even exist. “I could never manage with just one pen.” You added politely, not wanting to leave Tara's joke unanswered just because your thoughts were getting muddled.

“I know. Artist and all, aren't you?” The girl nodded and you could see out of the corner of your eye as she leaned on the locker next to you, crossing her arms while still looking at you with a thoughtful expression. “Hey, don't you feel like going to a party tonight?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as you processed what she had said, but Tara remained completely unbothered by your side. As far as you knew, the Carpenter girl didn't usually throw parties, but Amber Freeman did, and she'd instituted a very specific rule about them ever since she'd thrown the first one during your freshman year:

Invite only. No losers allowed.

And, as far as you knew, in Amber's opinion you were included in the word “losers”.

“I don't think so.” You shook your head. “Amber's throwing this party, isn't she? I don't have an invitation and I don't even like parties that much.”

Tara laughed out loud at that, causing a few heads to turn in your direction and your cheeks to heat up like coals. “I'm inviting you, ain't I? and seriously! I've never even seen you at the boring school parties, how are you supposed to know if you like parties or not without ever having tried them?”

Okay, you weren't expecting Tara to rebut your arguments or be so insistent about your presence. Was it getting warmer or was it just your impression? “But... I don't even know anyone who's going, I'll probably just stand in the corner the whole night. And also, I have an appointment the next day, I can't, like, go wild...”

Unexpectedly, Tara let out an even louder laugh, this time even wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. “Go wild? You're hilarious.” She controlled her breathing, still keeping a bright smile on her face. “You don't have to drink if you don't want to, no one's going to force you. And about the being alone part, you can invite those friends of yours. Amber won't mind, she wants more people at her parties anyway and she refuses to call sophomores and below.”

You looked at her with surprise and suspicion. Invite your friends? Did Tara remember that your friends included Mindy Meeks-Martin? Like, basically Amber's number one enemy, Mindy Meeks-Martin?

Tara finally noticed your wary expression and sighed, uncrossing her arms and raising both hands in a peaceful gesture. “Look, Amber said I could invite nice people and I think you're nice. She'll be busy with other things anyway, she probably won't even notice that your friends are there.”

You bit your lower lip, considering your options. On the one hand, parties weren't exactly your natural habitat and you still had your doubts about whether or not you were welcome there. On the other hand, Tara had been so kind to you lately and... for some reason, you wanted to explore it a little further.

“Can I give you an answer later? I'll ask my friends if they're going.” That's what you decided to answer, choosing to leave your conflicting future in the hands of your dear companions.

Tara nodded a yes and complemented the action with a shrug. “Okay. But even if they decide not to go, I think you should give it a chance.”

Suddenly, the bell for the first period echoed in the corridors, waking you both up to the fact that you had to be in your classrooms in a few seconds. As lockers closed and teenagers ran to avoid being late, Tara lazily turned around and started walking away, ending your interaction.

But you didn't want it to end so soon. In a impulsive act, you raised your voice. “What should I wear?”

Tara turned as soon as she heard you and her eyes slowly traveled up and down your body as a smile worthy of the Cheshire cat broke out on her face. “Wear something pretty! But I think you were already going to do that anyway.”

System crash. Your brain shortcutted. Did Tara had just...? No, she couldn't have possibly... checked you out? Were you seeing things?

As Tara's back got further and further down the corridor, you ran back to your classroom, muttering on the way, “God, I'm really not your strongest soldier.”

_

“I need to ask you something.”

You were extremely nervous. Your fingers kept drumming on the table and your brain was desperately trying to think of a way to convince your friends to A) go to Amber's party with you and B) not think you were out of your mind.

Tara's words (and her actions, by the way) really made you consider that crazy possibility. On any other occasion, you would have denied it as quickly as possible and then run away, but you were finding that Tara Carpenter could be extremely convincing.

Mindy swallowed a piece of the sandwich she was holding, making a dismissive gesture with her hands. “I’ve told you before, we have no interest in a throuple.”

Sitting next to her with her feet propped up on her girlfriend's lap, Anika raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully. “Who says we don't?”

“What?!” Both Mindy and Ethan shouted, although the girl clearly got the joke and was just going along with it, while the boy seemed really bothered by the idea. You and Anika let out a loud chuckle and you smiled at her in appreciation, knowing that she had joked around just to make you less nervous.

With the mood more relaxed, you took a deep breath and said the words in rapid fire, fearing that they would never come out if you lingered too long. “Tara invited me to Amber's party and she said I could invite you guys. Would you go with me? Please?”

“Absolutely not.” Mindy quickly denied your request, putting on an angry expression. “And why would you want to go to a party like that, anyway?��

“That's right, only assholes go to that kind of thing.” Ethan agreed with the girl, looking equally annoyed by your suggestion.

Your eyes turned to Anika in a plea for help and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Opening her famous warm smile that reached her eyes, she grabbed Mindy's arm and pouted. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeease, I've always wanted to go to a party like this. We can just go and laugh at people being dumb.”

“We can laugh at people being dumb at school literally all the time, I don't need to be at Amber Freeman's house for that.” Mindy objects, but it's obvious that she's already starting to give in to her girlfriend's charms by the way her face looks more peaceful.

Anika looked in your direction and you understood that you would have to stay in that ping pong game of arguments until the other two gave in. “Amber won't even notice we were there! Tara said there would be too many people for her to handle.”

“Aaaand,” Anika added, moving even closer to Mindy, almost sitting on her lap on that narrow wooden bench. “Our theme for the A.V club project is literally young and reckless! What's more young and reckless than Amber's parties?! We'll get some great material if we go!”

Mindy considered the proposal for long seconds that left you on the edge of your seat. You knew Ethan would probably go if you all did, so it was really all in the Meeks-Martin girl's hands.

Finally, she sighed and rolled her eyes, slipping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. “Okay, I'll go. But I’m warning you, if Amber even looks in my direction, I won't answer for myself.”

Anika squealed, grabbing Mindy's face and pulling her close to kiss her cheek, which clearly got the girl flustered even though she only replied with an “alright, alright”. You smiled at this, feeling a mixture of amusement and relief at knowing that your friends had agreed to embark with you on this madness.

Ethan hadn't necessarily agreed yet, but when you looked in his direction, he sighed dramatically, so that his brown curls moved with the wind. “If you're both going, I think I'll go to keep y/n company. So she won't be a third wheel and won't be bothered by idiots, you know?”

You thanked the boy with a pat on the shoulder and his smile automatically widened. Across the table, Mindy laughed. “Oh, I don't think you have to worry about y/n getting third wheeled, Ethan. Tara invited her, did you forget?”

“Holy shit. I have to tell Tara.” You remembered your conversation with the girl earlier, rushing into her DMs and completely ignoring the jokes and teasing from the girls in front of you.

You just hoped they could also ignore your completely flustered behavior.

 _

We're going!

A simple message had made Tara's day a thousand times better. She'd forgotten how insufferable Amber could be on party days, as well as the fact that Liv had spent the whole day acting like a pick-me-girl because Chad had been spending much more time on his phone than with her lately.

She'd put her best Casanova act into play when she'd spoken to you earlier, but somehow your sense of humor made her break character and just act like herself, which was something she couldn't remember doing so freely in a long time.

Of course she had appealed for a bit of her charm at the end, but she just couldn't hold back when you had opened up such a perfect opening for her to flirt.

“You should really thank me, you know that?” A familiar voice whispered close to her ear and soon pale arms wrapped around her neck in a grip that bordered on uncomfortable. “I basically handed you your challenge on a platter by letting you invite those weirdos.”

Tara was annoyed by the comment and she quickly disentangled herself from the hug, bumping into Amber and her devilish expression. The shorter girl huffed, fixing her clothes and hair as if that was the real reason she had walked away.

At least this time she didn't turn red. That was progress.

“Shut up. If anything happens, it'll be my merit.” Tara slung her bag over her shoulder, walking along with Amber and the other students to the exit after another tiring Friday of classes.

The taller girl didn't even mind Tara's protests, shaking her head as if she didn't believe the freckled girl’s words. “Anyway, at least you'll be busy while I'm doing someone and won't be bothering me the next day.”

They walked out the door and fortunately Tara could already see Sam's car parked not far away. The girl turned her face in the opposite direction of her friend’s, pretending it was due to the sun and hoping Amber hadn't seen the pained expression on her face. “Whatever. See you later, Freeman.”

“See you later, Carpenter!” Amber shouted back, but Tara didn't turn around to wave goodbye and kept her head down until she reached the old sedan her mother used to drive. At least that was until she was no longer sober enough to hold a steering wheel.

Inside the car, Sam raised her head when she heard the door open and close after Tara got into the passenger seat. She started to back out of the parking lot, occasionally glancing at her younger sister who seemed to be upset beside her. “So... how was school?”

“Don't fucking start.” Tara muttered, putting on her headphones in a quick move to isolate herself from the world and from an older sister who suddenly wanted to be there for her after abandoning her alone with an alcoholic for a year.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on the window, trying not to think about how Amber really got on her nerves sometimes, or think about the guilt that was starting to rise up inside her after being rude to Sam for nothing. Why couldn't her mind stop working for just one minute?

But as she tried to make her own thoughts go blank, a pleasant memory surfaced. Tara remembered your conversation earlier, the way you could understand each other's moods and how genuinely happy she was that you were going to the party for her.

Maybe, if she just kissed you and hid the real reason behind everything, you could even be friends after all. Maybe she could even convince Amber that you were a nice person, so that you could hang out with them.

Of course, these were only wishful thinking, but Tara wanted peace and, at the moment, the utopian idea of having you around gave her that exact feeling. 

_

“Okay, now give me a spin.”

You turned in your place at Anika's request, being mindful to not to get out of the sight of your phone camera, which was leaning awkwardly on your desk. Your room was a mess of clothes scattered all over the place, highlighting your intense search to decide on the perfect outfit to wear for the party.

“So?” You asked your friend, who had her attention split between the video call and her own elaborate makeup.

Anika seemed to finish her analysis on your look while you were about to start trembling with anxiety. You trusted the girl's fashion sense more than anything and you swore you could have started crying if she said that your outfit wasn't good. Fortunately, her response was a positive nod and a satisfied grin. “Oh, you look so cute!”

You looked down, once again staring at the outfit you had chosen, which was a comfortable one, but neat enough to let people know that you had put some effort into dressing up.

Receiving compliments had never exactly been your strong suit, but as much as you felt awkward about Anika's comment, you couldn't get Tara's recommendation out of your head. “Yeah, but do I look pretty?”

“Of course you do! Cute, pretty, it's all the same!”

You frowned, still feeling annoyed. Fashion had never exactly been your forte and that fact was your Achilles heel at the moment, since you still weren't convinced that “cute” and “pretty” were the same thing. In your opinion, Tara seemed to be the type who liked pretty girls, but not cute girls.

Or maybe it didn't make any sense at all and you were just going crazy at the thought of spending the next few hours in a house full of people you either didn't know or didn't like. Besides, when did you start caring about the kind of girl Tara liked?

“I can hear your thoughts from here, you know?” Anika called out, making your head snap out of that internal cycle of overthinking. “Is this all to impress Tara?”

“Ugh.” You grunted, flopping onto your bed oblivious to the dozens of clothes that were crumpling under your body. “No? Maybe? I don't know.”

You felt ashamed of the situation, even though you knew Anika wasn't the judgmental type. Your feelings were still confusing and you definitely didn't feel ready to admit that you thought about Tara more than you should, but there was also no way to hide something that was so obvious.

“Hey, it's okay, you know? Actually, I'm glad to see you're interested in someone.” Anika replied kindly, which made you work up the courage to sit up, staring at your friend's genuine expression through the screen. “I know you're worried about Mindy and all, but Chad's always nice to me when I go to their house and it was super easy to do some school work with Wes for our calc class.”

She continued, “What I mean is that Tara could still be a nice girl for you, no matter how much there's this Romeo and Juliet thing going on between our groups.”

“It's not that. I mean, it is a bit, but also...” You sighed, trying hard not to run your hands through your hair and make it look messy. “... I don't think she'd be interested in me. I mean, she's been giving me these signals but, I don't know, maybe she does it with everyone?”

Anika tsked, shaking her head and giving you a playful smile. “I've never heard of Tara being a player.”

You groaned again, turning your face away as if the act would somehow stop you from feeling so flustered. Anika laughed in response. “Just enjoy the moment! You already know she's the straight forward type, don't you? If she wants something from you, I'm sure she'll get it.”

“Anika!” You shrieked, appalled by what she was inferring. Your entire face seemed to be engulfed in lava as your friend laughed even louder at the clear shock you expressed.

“What?! The world needs more people like that, you know? That's why I'm going to take the initiative to run away to a corner with Mindy at the first opportunity and-.”

“Ew! No! Stop talking! Please, you're my mother figures!”

_

The walls of the house seemed to shake under Tara's fingers as she leaned on it, making her way to the bathroom in slow, crooked steps as she cursed quietly at the amount of people crowding into the hallway.

They were screaming with joy, slurring the lyrics of the extremely loud song that was playing on the huge speakers in the living room, echoing throughout the house and possibly the entire block. Thank God, Wes had already taken care of his mother.

Tara groaned the whole way, feeling like pushing away all the sweaty, alcohol-altered people who bumped into her shoulder, unable to see properly through the colored lights that made the place look like a nightclub. She sighed in relief when she finally found the bathroom, opening the door and locking herself inside without caring about the noise it made.

She turned on the lights and leaned on the sink with both hands, leaning over to look at her reflection in the mirror, with tired eyes and her bangs sticking to her forehead from sweat. God, how could she have been so shaken up by a measly hour of partying? She used to be able to take a lot more.

But she also knew exactly what had led up to it and the smell of alcohol on her lips wouldn't let her lie. She thought she was going to have more fun, but her evening became much more difficult after she saw Amber stick her tongue down the throats of at least three people right in front of her, making a point of giving Tara a thumbs-up afterwards, almost as if she was trying to annoy her friend on purpose.

Tara tried everything to make herself less bothered. She'd danced, she'd watched some people play 7 minutes in heaven, she'd even flirted with a few people just for fun, but in the end, what had stopped her blood from pounding furiously in her ears had been the beers stocked in Amber's basement fridge.

She stopped after the third one, after she felt tipsy enough. She didn't want to be her mother's daughter, who didn't know her own limits and fell asleep on the living room carpet because she didn't have the strength to walk to her own room. And the drinks helped for a while, but now that the sweat had evaporated the effect of the alcohol on herself, her headache left her one scream or punch away from going insane.

Tara splashed water on her face, oblivious to the fact that her makeup was getting smudged or her bangs got even wetter. At this point, she no longer cared about much other than surviving the rest of the night.

Once she had pulled herself together, she sighed and left the bathroom, expecting to be dragged into the living room by the crowd of teenagers dancing and jumping around like wild animals, but instead she ended up being bumped in the opposite direction, almost knocking her off balance.

“Oh my God, I'm sorry!” Gentle hands rushed to hold Tara up before she fell and she followed the length of the arms with her eyes until she bumped into a familiar face. It was you, who was now staring at Tara with a frown. The girl couldn't help herself and looked you up and down, mentally appreciating the way you were dressed.

You quickly took your hands off Tara's shoulders, rubbing them anxiously. The girl felt a tug in her chest as she remembered that she had invited you and you most likely should have spent all this time looking for her, while she was drinking and whining about not having the attention of the biggest bitch in Woodsboro. Drunk and abandoning people? Wow, the Carpenter women's genes never fail.

“I didn't realize you'd already arrived.” Tara broke the awkward silence, mentally thanking you for being upstairs and being able to talk without having to shout over the hip hop track playing in the living room.

You looked away, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. It's been a while.”

Tara nodded, feeling a little disappointed in herself as she realized that you had clearly been annoyed by her absence. She tried to strike up a conversation again, wishing she could somehow put a smile on your face. “What brings you upstairs? Not enjoying the energy of the party?”

“I was looking for the bathroom.” You sighed, hugging your elbows. “Actually, I was more looking to escape to the bathroom, because I was planning to hide there until my friends decided to leave.”

“You really don’t like parties, huh?” Tara joked, but the smile on her face hardened when she realized that you hadn't laughed along with her.

Tara felt terrible. Sure, you'd only had a few interactions before, but all of them had proved that you could understand each other easily. Now, Tara didn't know if it was the party, if it was her or something else that had made you look so uncomfortable, but she was determined to make it up to you for being an idiot.

“You know, I think I have a better hiding place than a small bathroom.” She leaned towards you, as if she was sharing a secret. “Are you interested?”

You scrutinized the girl's face and she couldn't help but be disappointed that you didn't even seem to be affected by your proximity as you usually would. Your arms were crossed as you felt suspicious of her offer. “Don't you have to go back to the party?”

Tara made a dismissive gesture with her hand and started walking down the large hallway, looking for a specific room. “Nah, I've been to so many of these that it's lost it’s spark to me.”

Technically, it wasn't a lie. Tara was sick of that party and she'd love to have a distraction from the fact that Amber was now probably at her body count number 100 and Tara wasn't talking about dead people. But then again, she felt strangely committed to making you have at least a little fun and she really liked your company.

Maybe it was just because she felt bad for having invited you in the first place. Yeah, that must be it.

She opened Amber's bedroom door, barging in without hesitation and heading straight for the window, opening it all the way. Behind her, you seemed slightly alarmed by the idea of simply invading the personal space of a girl who could make your life a living hell. “Uh…”

But before you could really protest, Tara put one leg out of the window, glancing in your direction with a playful smile. “Trust me. You’re not scared, are you?”

“I’m not scared, but trusting you? After you invited me to a party you’re trying to escape?” you replied, making Tara's smile widen as she realized you were starting to open up again. “And what are you doing at the window, Rapunzel?”

Tara chuckled, pointing your way. “Wait and see.”

In a swift motion, she raised her hands to the roof platform above her head, pushing off Amber's window with her feet to gain enough momentum to pull herself up with extra effort from her arms. Still holding onto the edge, Tara hung upside down, looking at you through the window with her bangs sticking up. “So, are you coming or not?”

You snorted lightly with the sight, shaking your head as you approached the window. “I’m no Spider-Man. If I fall from here, it’ll be your fault, and I hope they write it down as homicide.”

“Good to know you have so much faith in me.” Tara answered, kneeling on the roof tiles and extending her hand for you to grab. You hesitated for a few seconds, and honestly, Tara couldn’t blame you for it, but she kept looking at you expectantly, trying to communicate with her eyes. Let me make things right with you.

She almost sighed in relief when you finally grabbed her forearm, letting her help you up slowly, pretending not to notice how her hands ended up on your hips. All in the name of making your night a little less boring, of course.

But wow, your body felt... warm.

It didn’t take long for you to pull away from Tara, clearing your throat and sitting on the roof beside her. It would be hard to stand for long due to the slope, but the spot was comfortable enough for you to sit or lie down without the risk of rolling off.

The roof was quite high, not tall enough for you to see the entire city, for example, but high enough that the people below you looked like tiny ants. Ants that were dancing, having fun, and throwing cups of beer at each other.

“Do you come here often?” you broke the silence, but Tara saw the exact moment you winced, realizing way too late the double meaning of your words. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…”

“It’s all good.” Tara laughed, considering saying something to tease you even more, but she ultimately decided against it , feeling a bit sorry for your embarrassed state. “And no, to answer your question. I used to spend a lot more time up here before, but now…”

She let the sentence trail off, lost in her own thoughts. Maybe the last time she had been on that roof was the day Sam had gone to rehab, two years ago. Which, looking back now, was probably around the same time Amber stopped being a caring friend and started being the friend that thought Tara complained too much.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few more seconds—or as quiet as it could be with two massive speakers blasting music two floors below. Tara glanced to the side, staring at your face, which seemed more focused on the starry sky, illuminated only by a few beams of moonlight.

Like she had felt in the car earlier, that sight gave her peace. It wasn’t like looking at Amber, which made her feel like her organs were being squeezed and thrown into an erupting volcano. Looking at you made her feel like a sea breeze was brushing against her face, a comforting, peaceful gust of wind.

Tara’s eyes drifted down to your lips, and she had to run her tongue across her own. Amber’s challenge lingered in the back of her mind, and she was tempted to test if your kiss would be a better distraction than the cheap beer she’d grabbed from the basement.

But suddenly, Tara felt self-conscious. Maybe it was the fact that the idea had been Amber’s, and she was still too annoyed with the girl to give her the satisfaction of being right. Maybe it was because she could still taste the alcohol in her mouth and didn’t want you to taste it too.

Or maybe it was something else. Something gentler and softer that even Tara couldn’t quite describe yet.

“Oh, look!” Tara snapped out of her own thoughts when she saw you excitedly pointing at the sky. “You can see Orion so clearly!”

She followed the direction of your hand with her eyes, feeling confused about what exactly she was supposed to be looking at. That particular night was cloudless, which made the vast array of stars shining in the dark sky exceptionally beautiful.

You noticed the lost expression on the girl’s face beside you and chuckled. “Orion? The constellation?”

“Oh, yeah. I… I know.” Tara just nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed for not being sure what you were referring to. She knew what a constellation was, of course, but she had never studied them in much detail, and in her eyes, all she could see in the sky were random stars, beautiful but completely scattered.

You laughed again, not buying Tara’s excuse for a second after seeing how confused her eyes looked. Gently, your hand held hers as you started pointing out the constellation with both of your hands joined together.

“See those three stars close together? That’s what we call Orion’s belt. It’s much easier to spot the rest of the constellation starting from there. Up there, kind of making a triangle, you have Meissa, Betelgeuse, and Bellatrix, and if you look to the side, it kinda looks like he’s holding a bow.”

Tara wanted to pay attention to your explanation, but her brain turned to mush the moment your hands got entangled, and her heart started pounding like the drums in a heavy metal song. You, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the action, which made Tara feel even more like an idiot.

Wow, what was in those drinks?

“You really know a lot about this,” she said, trying to sound normal, even though her voice felt like it could crack at any moment. You smiled at the comment, letting go of her hand to play with your fingers in your lap.

“One day, I had this brilliant idea to paint constellations on my bedroom ceiling—or at least most of them—and I had to do a ton of research to make sure it looked right.” You laughed, and Tara realized she wanted to hear that sound more and more.

“It’s cool that you’re a painter. It’s different.” She wanted to keep the conversation going, eager to learn more about any detail you were willing to offer, but she didn’t exactly know what to say. For someone who usually had no trouble expressing herself, Tara seemed to have forgotten her entire vocabulary.

Luckily, you seemed to be in the opposite situation, feeling comfortable enough to keep talking. “I guess so? I’ve never thought much about it before. Painting is a lot more than just a hobby for me—it’s more like a safe haven, you know?”

Tara nodded instead of giving a verbal response, especially because she knew exactly what you were talking about, but she didn’t have the words to express how much she needed a conversation like this—so simple, yet so healing.

She reached into the pocket of her jacket, slowly pulling out her phone. “Can I take a picture of the constellation?” Tara asked, mentally kicking herself when she heard how vulnerable her voice sounded.

Her tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you looked at her with a bit of confusion, but soon after, your eyes softened, shining with kindness—almost as bright as the stars above your heads. “You don’t have to ask me to take pictures of the sky, but do you want me to point it out again?”

“Sorry, old habit.” She shook her head to snap out of it, feeling her cheeks heating up as she started opening the camera app and aiming it upward. “But yeah, please.”

Slowly and gently, you took Tara’s hands again, working together with her to make sure the constellation was perfectly centered. You were close enough for Tara to catch the pleasant scent of your perfume, but she forced herself to stay focused on the picture you two were trying to capture.

After a few successful shots of Orion (which Tara planned to edit later to make it more visible and color-corrected), the two of you lay down side by side, admiring the night’s beauty in another moment of shared, comfortable silence.

_

Now, the silence inside Sam’s car wasn’t as comfortable.

It was the first time Tara had asked Sam to pick her up from a party, especially as late as 2 AM, considering the younger Carpenter always used to sleep over at Amber’s once everything wrapped up.

But after you left, Tara completely lost the desire to stay. The music was dull, she had no interest in drinking or playing any games, and she definitely didn’t want to be around her friends anymore.

She sat in a thoughtful silence, her head resting against the window, watching as the asphalt disappeared behind the car doors. The soft hum of the engine served as background noise since Tara didn’t have her precious headphones, but she’d spent enough time around loud music for the night anyway, so her ears were begging for a break.

“Did you… have fun?” Sam asked cautiously, as if Tara were a wounded animal that might lash out at any moment. The younger girl sighed, feeling guilty for being the reason behind the hostile distance between them.

She already felt guilty about enough things. Maybe it was time to start lifting some of that weight off her shoulders.

“I guess I did.” She nodded, watching Sam’s surprised expression at her genuine response. The look made her seem younger, reminding Tara that Sam wasn’t that much older than her. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember seeing Sam so carefree since she’d returned, but her anger hadn’t exactly allowed her to notice the little details. “I had a good time.”

“Good,” Sam replied, trying to hide a satisfied smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. In the passenger seat, Tara did the same, feeling a tiny bit of happiness from the small progress they’d made. Small steps were important.

The car fell silent again, but it felt less heavy, and Tara figured it was because Sam was tired and still had to focus on the road for at least another 10 minutes. Taking advantage of the pause, the younger Carpenter pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, going straight to her gallery and searching for the pictures she had taken earlier.

Most of them were of the sky, capturing the fateful (and now familiar to Tara) constellation of Orion, which made her think of the feeling of your hands on hers. Two others, however, were a bit more personal for her.

She zoomed in on the photo, staring at the profile of your face bathed in moonlight as you smiled brighter than the stars. She had taken the picture in secret, an impulsive urge to capture not just the moment, but you. Tomorrow, she could blame it on the alcohol, but tonight, she would give herself the privilege of gazing at your carefree expression for a few long seconds.

You had probably spent hours talking on the roof, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough. Tara wanted more. She needed more. Even though she’d never considered herself to be possessive or clingy, she couldn’t help but want to explore every little piece of your world as if it were the most beautiful piece of art.

A sudden thought crossed her mind, and Tara quickly opened Instagram, this time taking her time to scroll through and really appreciate each of your paintings. As she studied the pieces you had displayed, she mentally kicked herself for not having done it sooner. It was clear that you drew inspiration from the Renaissance, and that people were your greatest muse. There were few self-portraits, but Tara recognized some of your friends in the works.

She was so captivated that she felt a strong urge to knock on your door and ask you to tell her the story behind each one, just for the pleasure of hearing your voice. But, well, it was 2 AM, and she didn’t even know where you lived.

And, of course, she wasn’t that crazy.

Still, she decided to slide into your DMs, sending you five of the photos you had taken of the sky, taking the opportunity to wish you a good night. Would sending a heart emoji be too much? She decided against it. The photos would be enough.

But Tara still wasn’t satisfied with her exploration, so she ventured into your stories, looking for anything that could give her more reasons to talk to you. It turned out to be a great decision, because she struck gold.

You had posted an announcement from Woodsboro Central Hospital earlier, calling for volunteers for a special event dedicated to bringing joy to children hospitalized with cancer. The flyer said that any help was welcome, from telling stories to dressing up as superheroes, and Tara couldn’t stop wondering what you had signed up to do.

Without wasting any time, she navigated to the hospital’s profile, hoping they were still accepting applications even though she was texting them literally seven hours before the event.

Hi, I’m interested in volunteering! Would you need a photographer?

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: fratboy!seungcheol, smut, f reader, public grinding, penentrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys <3), oral (f receiving), etc

wc: 1584

a/n: not proofread </3

masterlist

fratboy!seungcheol who tends to not participate much in the parties his frat throws every week under the vice of 'keeping things in order' (whatever that means) and making sure none of his frat members get into trouble. despite no one ever asking him to, he gives himself the responsibility of watching over the parties without ever allowing himself to have any fun, claiming he's not interested in any drinking games nor has anyone ever caught attention anyways.

after multiple fruitless attempts from the boys to introduce him to girls or get him to stop stressing himself out over keeping his frat's reputation intact, cheol seems adamant in being a strict leader and giving himself the burden of keeping things afloat. that is, of course, until someone finally walks through the door and catches him completely off guard, causing him to forget any of his previous self-assigned duties.

he thinks he might've seen you before, but he cant be too sure. these parties tend to blend together for him, having always stuck to watching over his members and never having time to mingle on his own. he didn't care where he'd seen you before, though. he only cared to make sure he'd see you again soon. it had been a while since he'd approached a girl, not knowing very well what to do and just sticking to watching you have fun with your friends while he nursed a drink, back leaning against the wall. until his thoughts of you are rudely interrupted.

"could it be? choi seungcheol has his eyes on somebody?" it was yoon jeonghan, the second in command after seungcheol.

"what are you talking about," he asked, eyes still glued to your dancing figure from afar.

"like her? thats cute. wanna know her name?", now that peeked his interest.

"you're bluffing."

"promise i'm not. scout's honor," the younger made a cross across his chest as he said this.

"you were never a scout."

"same difference. wanna know or not?"

cheol hesitated, not wanting his friend's involvement in his first romantic endeavor in a while. he turned back to look at you, your pretty figure molded by your dress and your smile blinding him and made up his mind.

"fine"

~

y/n. that was your name. pretty name for a pretty girl, he thought. he hadn't ended up talking to you that night, chickening out at the thought of embarrassing himself due to lack of practice. instead he chose an easy and safe alternative; to keep a watch for you whenever his frat threw a party, which to be fair was quite often.

he'd watch you from afar, enjoying the varying dresses you'd wear to his parties, loving the way they stuck to the shape of your body. he didn't do much further than that. he felt like a bit of a creep, just watching you without letting his gaze be known, but the fantasy he was building of you in his head had him grow more and more in need of you every time he saw you. the thrill within him kept building up. he knew that one of these days he'd snap and finally talk to you, maybe even bring you to bed.

in retrospect, seungcheol should've realized that you'd eventually notice the brooding man atop the stairs watching you through the night. but he hadn't thought that far, simply enjoying the pretty sight, finally resting from his duties as leader.

you'd noticed him since day one, having one of your friends point him out while he was distracted speaking to your old lab partner jeonghan, letting you know of the guy whose eyes wouldn't leave your form. you weren't sure at first which of the two she'd been pointing at, but you hoped it was the man you knew as seungcheol, the head of the frat. you found both men very handsome, but something about seungcheol's demeanor immediately called your attention. you were happy to confirm, only a few minutes later, that the man who couldn't keep his eyes off you was the same brooding man you'd hoped. but it didn't stop there. you continued to notice his undivided attention on you every time you stepped into the frat, always making sure to wear something that would give him a reason to keep staring, occasionally throwing him suggestive looks of your own.

eventually you grew tired of this one-sided game of cat and mouse, wanting the real thing and not just the thoughts you had of him as he unknowingly gave you 'fuck me' eyes. it was only a few parties later that you decided to take action, wearing the dress you looked most fuckable in and walking through the fraternity's doors, determined to not come back home the next morning.

you danced for a bit, stopping for a few drinks every once in a while. you also threw him some looks of your own this time, making sure to catch his eyes every once in a while. you made sure to drink enough to be tipsy, but not too much that you wouldn't have full control of you scheme.

scheme was putting it lightly, really, seeing as you didn't really have much of a plan. how were you supposed to get him to fuck you without straight up propositioning yourself to him? no, you wanted to have at least a little bit of class. except things didn't go exactly as you'd planned, not that you were complaining.

he threw you a bit of a curveball, really. you hadn't expected him to approach you first, seemingly finally growing the balls to make direct contact. you'd been dancing, as you had been all night. you'd get the occasional guy or girl who would try and match your energy, dancing up on you. you were buzzed, so you didn't mind, usually just lightheartedly following along. what you hadn't expected was for one of those people to be seungcheol himself. you hadn't realized it was him at first, almost cussing him out when he'd started to get a little too close, usually setting up a clear limit when dancing with strangers, specially at a frat party. before you could say anything, though, he spoke up against your ear.

"been watching you. wanted to get you alone."

"what took you so long?", you whispered back, pressing your back closer to his front, if it was even possible.

he ground against you, making you gasp at what you felt against your ass. you felt a little flustered, having him shamelessly feel you up as you ground against each other in the middle of the frat's living room, surrounded by drunk people.

"aw, did i keep you waiting?" he coo'd sarcastically, keeping his arms wrapped around you.

damn him.

"yes. and you still are .. don't you have a room here somewhere?", you finally turned around to face him, almost gasping at the proximity. he was even prettier up close; so big and buff.

he looked down at you, eyes alternating between your eyes and lips, "follow me."

those were the last coherent words spoken between you, now unable to form any coherent sentence as he, for lack of a better term, fucked you into the mattress.

you'd never done this before; have such animalistic sex without a second thought, but the buildup between you and seungcheol had been long and grueling, having left you wanting him for weeks.

so now you were here, back arched deliciously as his cock hit you repeatedly in THAT spot that made you cry into the sheets beneath you.

"s-shit. fuck, baby. so fucking tight. so pretty for me."

"ch-cheollie, FUCK"

"been wanting you f-for weeks. thought about bruising these pretty hips. had me going fucking crazy wearing those dresses, shit."

"for y-you! did it for you," you cried out as he sped up, making you drop to your elbows, burying your face against the sheets, "wanted you to come fuck me .."

"i know, baby. shit. n im gonna fuck you all night. gonna fuck you to sleep, n then im gonna fuck you again tomorrow. gonna drag you to my room e- fuck. every time i see you at one of these parties."

he sped up even more, slapping his hips against your ass as you cried out for him.

"need you to be good n cum for me, yeah? gonna fill you up, promise. just need you to coat my cock with your cream, okay pretty?"

his words contrasted his harsh demeanor as he pounded into you mercilessly, only increasing the strength of his thrusts after claiming your orgasm, now desperately chasing after his.

"g-gonna cum, baby. fuck! in-inside? can i, baby? let me fill you up, let m-"

"yes! inside, please!"

he quickly reached his high after that, feeling you tighten up at the mention of cumming inside and filling you up with a groan. you finally let yourself fall on your face against the mattress, exhausted at your previous ministrations with seungcheol.

he didn't bother cleaning you up, simply flipping you around and dragging you to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you before speaking up again, "we're not done, baby. i said all night, remember?"

those were the last words spoken before he dove in, nose first into your pussy as he sucked and licked like a madman, making you delirious at the pleasure. overstimulated, but loving the feeling, you prepared yourself for a very long night, and possibly morning too.

[orcasoul]

Not My Man

Summary: Joel is accused of abusing you, and, oh hell no! You're having none of that!

Warnings: Swearing, injury, implied domestic abuse, use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4,132

"Ow, shit! That really stings." You wince and pull your head back as Joel lightly dabs a alcohol soaked cloth over your cheek. His hand slides behind your head pulling you back in, keeping you in place. "Quit squirming and it'll be done quicker," he tells you firmly yet softly, his big chestnut eyes fixed intently on the task at hand. You grudgingly obey, - keeping still despite the the burn of the alcohol seeping into the raw cut across your cheek - holding an ice pack over your eye on the opposite side. You just know it'll be black by tomorrow.

"How's the head? Feeling dizzy or sick at all?" It's the millionth time Joel has asked you this, and every time you have to reassure him. "I'm okay, Joel. Really," you stressed, but you can see the guilt and anger simmering within him flicker to the surface every time you try to make light of it all. "I shouldn't have let you go off alone. Fucking hell... if I'd been just a few seconds later you'd be-" Joel closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, both to calm his nerves and to avoid having to finish that sentence. Just the thought of losing you makes Joel want to rip his hair out in vexation.

"It's my fault," you try to reason, cupping Joels' scruffy cheek and forcing his eyes to meet yours. "I should have been paying closer attention. Don't you dare go blaming yourself." "You're never leaving my sight again," Joel declared, his voice low and determined. "Joel-" "I mean it Y/N! From now on when we're outside these walls I'm gonna be on your ass like your shadow!" You sigh, knowing there's no getting to through to Joel when he gets like this. So, you silently concede with a nod, mostly for his peace of mind.

After applying some antiseptic cream and a large plaster, Joel leans in to press a featherlight kiss over the sensitive gash and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "I could have lost you today, sweetheart." The ache in his voice stirred a deep ache in your chest in return. You place your hands over his own, which are now cradling your face. "But you didn't, and that's all that matters." It crushes your heart to see Joel so torn up over something no one could have seen coming, over something he couldn't have known.

But, here he is again; blaming himself for circumstances beyond his control. All you can do is comfort him and try to make him focus on the here and now and not on the "what could have been". Easier said that done, though when your mind keeps replaying that dreadful encounter. You could kick yourself for letting your guard down.

You and Joel had started to take Ellie out to prepare her for patrol duty, now that she'd turned 18. A small town about 5 miles west of Jackson seemed like the best option, given that the place mostly remained infected free at this time of year. Most of the wooden houses had collapsed in on themselves over the past two decades. Only brick buildings had survived the ravages of time and the elements, and even some of them looked to be on their last legs. Once it appeared the three of you were alone you'd proposed you split up to inspect the last few unchecked buildings, just to get it over with ASAP. The sooner you were all done, the sooner you could all get home and stop freezing your asses off out here.

Joel, of course, objected immediately but you brushed off his concern, insisting it was safe enough. Famous last words! While Joel and Ellie searched an old bank building, you'd turned you attention to a restaurant next door. You entered slowly, gun raised in front of you, head turning in every direction, ears pricked for any indication of company. The crunch of broken glass underfoot was deafening in the eerie silence.

As the moments wore on, you began to feel less tense, there being no signs of raiders or loners passing through, and if there were any infected in here, surely they'd have heard the scraping of glass as you'd entered. A thorough scan of the dining and kitchen area revealed no danger, luling you into a false sense of security. You absentmindedly lower your gun as you make your way to back room, which you assumed was an office. All you could think about was the hot bath awaiting you later on as you opened the door and walked through.

It all happened so fast after that. A ear splitting scream echoed through the room and before you could even turn to face it, you are tackled from behind, both yourself and the rotting corpse on your back tumbling over a desk and landing with a hard thud on the floor. The impact of your head hitting the ground sent the room spinning around you, but even through the haze, your body reacted instinctively, pushing the furious creature away from you by it's shoulders. It's putrid breath and brown teeth almost made you gag as you fought desperately to keep it's searching fungal tentacles away from your face.

You let out the loudest scream you possibly could, hoping Joel and Ellie would hear. Your gun had gotten lost during the skirmish so all you had to rely on right now was your own strength, which was waning by the second. Just when you felt like you couldn't hold out any longer a gunshot split the air and the infected fell to the side of you in a heap. Through the ringing in your ears you could hear Joel's frantic voice calling your name, his hands grabbing and pulling at you, checking you over for bites. "Holy shit! Is she alright? Is she bit?" Ellie asked breathlessly from over Joel's shoulder. "No, no... she's not bit. She's fine," Joel sighed in relief.

The fog in your head cleared, bringing you back to yourself and that's when you noticed how much your body hurt. A dull ache settled in your ribs where you'd landed, your head felt like it would explode at any moment and your cheek and opposite eye socket throbbed continuously. A warm, tickling sensation ghosted along your cheek. When you pulled your fingers away they were red and sticky. You can't even remember hitting your face on anything in all the commotion. "Joel..." you whimper, body trembling from fear and adrenaline. Before you could say another word, Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you against his chest in a crushing bear hug, a chorus of "You're safe, sweetheart" and "I've got you" repeating over and over.

You're snapped from the memory by Joel's weary sigh. "It's my job to protect you and I nearly failed... again." You're heart sank on his last word, knowing exactly what he meant by "again". Pulling back, you gently cup Joel's face in both hands, staring compassionately into his tormented eyes.

"Don't do that, honey. Please. It was my fault." you asserted, shaking your head. "I suggested we split up, I let my guard down. That's on me." Joel released a small, humourless laugh, clearly not about to relinquish any of the blame and it guts you; to see what your carelessness has caused. "But do you know what's all on you?" you ask, your tone softening. Joel shot you a quizzical look. You wave a hand over the front of your body, Joel's gaze following your gesture.

"Me... here, alive and well. You saved my life today. If it wasn't for you I'd be dead... or worse," you shudder at the thought. "So, you see, you didn't almost fail. You saved me and I love you for it." Joel exhaled long and slow, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. Joel lifted his hand to caress the back of your head and pulled you towards his face. His soft lips pressed against yours in a deep, lingering kiss. "I love you too, sweetheart, so damn much!"

The next morning as you, Joel and Ellie made your way towards the mess hall for breakfast, you can't help but notice the stares from passers-by. You were right about the black eye; the deep purple hue had bloomed overnight, the swelling causing your eyelid to slightly droop and a few bruises decorated your jaw. Even the area surrounding the bandage on your cheek was flushed red. You must be quite the spectacle right now. After collecting your food, the three of you joined Tommy and Maria at their table, as you do every morning, but this morning something felt... off.

A few times you could have sworn you'd heard yours and Joel's names mentioned in hushed tones, heads turning away from you quickly as you glance around. Joel and Tommy, being so deep in conversation, remained oblivious to the odd atmosphere, and Ellie was too busy shovelling food in her mouth - like it was her last ever meal - to pay attention to her surroundings. Maria, however picked up on your unease, also noticing the excessive looks and whispers in the hall. She looked to you, eyebrows raised in silent question, to which, you could only shrug in response.

Once you had finished your meal, you got up to take your tray to the used area, setting it down on the pile. Just as you turned to walk away you hear your name being called by Millie - one of the serving ladies. With her short, dumpy stature and short grey hair, she gave off the classic warm granny vibe. She's also a renowned gossip around town. "Are you okay, dear?" she asked in a breathy whisper. "Um... yeah?" You weren't really sure what she meant at first. When you noticed her concerned eyes darting all over your face you suddenly remember how ghastly you look. "Oh this..." you wave at your face, casually. "I got jumped by an infected yesterday. Knocked my face pretty bad but I'll be fine."

Millie didn't answer for a few seconds, her eyes flicking to your table, then back to you. "Are you sure?" she finally spoke, even quieter than before. "Of course." you tilt your head, wondering why she's acting so weird. "It's just..." Millie bit her bottom lip, nervously. "If you need someone to-" "Millie? Can you help me out in her for a minute?" came a shout from the kitchen. "I've got to go. You take care," she smiled sympathetically before rushing off into the kitchen, leaving you bewildered. "What the hell was that?" you muttered under your breath before returning to your seat.

Later that afternoon you were alone in the house when you heard a knock on the door. Maria stood on the other side, and one look at her face told you this isn't a social call. "Hi, can I speak to you?" she asked. "Sure, come in." You opened the door fully and stood aside, allowing her in. "Is everything okay?" you asked sitting on the settee opposite her. "Maybe I should be asking you that." "What?" Maria cleared her throat and shifted, uncomfortably. "Is... everything okay... between you and Joel?" "What do you mean? Why would there be something wrong?" you queried, taken aback at such an abrupt question.

"Look, if you don't feel safe enough to talk about it-" "Talk about what? What exactly are you insinuating?" You don't like how this sounds one little bit, but you want to hear her say it before you possibly jump to conclusions. Maria sat forward, looking you dead in the eye. "Y/N... did Joel do this to you?" There it is; what you were hoping she wasn't going to say. "Of course he fucking didn't!" You sprang to your feet, fists clenched at your sides. "You know what happened. I reported it yesterday when we got back!" "I know but-" "How could you even think Joel would do such a thing!" Maria raised her hands in a show of surrender.

"I'm sorry. It's just I heard he might have been... hurting you and as a member of the council I had to investigate. I'm also your friend," she continued, "and I just had be be sure." You can feel the blood in your veins boiling as the seconds tick by. "Who the hell has been spreading bullshit like that?!" "There have been rumours going around-" "Rumours!" you scoff. "And you believed them?" Maria stood up slowly, counteracting your indignation with calmness. "I'm not saying I believe them-" "It's obvious you do or why would you be here?"

"I just needed to know. We both know that Joel can be volitile-" "Oh trust me, I know how Joel can be. I travelled across the country with him, remember. I know what he's capable of and I also know what he would NEVER do! He'd never hurt anyone he loves. Your head is now throbbing from the anger bubbling under your skin, but you just can't stop yourself. "He's never laid a finger on me or Ellie and I won't have anyone spreading vicious lies like that!' "He's killed innocent people before. How can you be sure one day he won't-" That's fucking it, the last straw!

"Do you trust Tommy?! Do you fear what he might do one day?" you throw back at her, sarcastically. "Because Tommy killed innocent people too, or have you conveniently forgotten that?" Maria's demeanour hardened slightly at your judgement of her husband. Good. Now she knows how it feels. "Tommy was just following Joel's lead." "Oh don't give me that bullshit!" you snapped in frustration. "He's a grown ass man capable of making his own decisions, and he chose to do that. You can't keep making excuses for him, but still hold it against Joel." Maria remained silent, seeming to realise the truth of your words. You inhale a calming breath before continuing.

"Maria, you've got to let go of this constant animosity you feel for Joel. Yes, he's made some wrong choices in the past, but he's not that man anymore... just like Tommy isn't. And wether you like it or not he's your family now. If not for Joel's sake, do it for Tommy's. Joel means the world to him and you know it." After a few tense seconds Maria nodded slowly, looking slightly abashed. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. As a council member it's my job to keep the peace in Jackson, so I had to ask..." she steps closer to you, taking your hand in hers.

"As your friend, I believe you. I can see how much you love Joel. No one would be so fiercely protective over someone who hurt them." Your shoulders sag as the tension drains away. "Thank you." "You also make a fair point," Maria says. "It's true I've never been Joels biggest fan, and maybe I have been a bit harsh on him," she rubbed the back of her neck, awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I'll try to... make things right with him, I promise." You squeeze her hand back. "That's all I ask."

"So, we'll see you tomorrow for breakfast?" The sincerity and hope in her voice, softened you up a bit. "Sure, see you then," you smiled at her. Maria began to walk towards the door but stopped when you called her name. "If you hear anymore gossip-" "I'll be sure to set the record straight," She interjected. "Thank you." When the door closed and you were alone once again, you slumped back down into the settee, leaning your head over the back, bringing your hands to your face in exasperation.

The weak winter sun began to dip behind the mountains, casting looming shadows in the streets of Jackson. Joel was due home from maintenance duty any minute, so you put the kettle on to make him a cup of coffee before you head out together for dinner at the mess hall. Worry had been plaguing you all afternoon. You just hope word of these rumours hasn't reached joel's ears. As Joel entered the house - tired but otherwise in good spirits - you felt your worry settle, knowing he's none the wiser or he would have, rightfully, been a murderous mood.

The last thing you want is for Joel to have to deal with hearsay from sad busybodies with nothing better to do with their lives. If you can discreetly nip this in the bud without Joel having to know, that would be for the best. Joel sauntered into the living room after kicking his boots off, sitting down with a groan. Even though his back ached and knees creaked, he relished in the deep satisfaction that came at the end of a hard day's work. He never though he'd have the opportunity to live a normal ( well, as close to normal as you can get) life again.

Instead of smuggling and scraping to get by on a day to day basis, he now has the chance to do something honest and meaningful, and he'll never take that for granted again. "Hey honey," you greeted joel as you sat next to him, handing him his favourite tawny owl mug. "Thanks, darlin'," he smiled and kissed your forehead. You watched as he closed his eyes, savouring the rich flavour of coffee as he swallowed. "You look tired," your voice was a gentle whisper as you ran your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, knowing how it soothes him. "I'm okay," he said, stifling a yawn.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Joel gently brushed your hair behind your ear, examining your your face. "I'm fine. The swelling's actually starting to go down now." Joel smiled, relieved. He still blames himself for what happened but any indication that you're recovering is music to his ears. "MOTHER FUCKING ASSHOLES!" You both jumped half a mile in the air as Ellie barged through the front door, slamming it so hard behind her the whole thing rattled. "Whoa, whoa, easy. What happened?!"

Joel rushed over to Ellie, his shoulders tensing and fists balling. You've seen that posture many times on the journey here. A posture that screams "I will kill anyone who hurt you". "Stupid people running their fucking mouths. That's what fucking happened!" Ellie seethed as she ripped her jacket off and flung it on the floor. Oh god, Ellie. Please don't! "What the hell ya goin' on about?" Joel drawled, his Texan accent thickening as it always does when he's upset. "Oh you didn't hear? Well, you would have soon enough. People have been going around saying you gave Y/N those bruises."

"What the fuck?!" Joel roared, the muscles in his shoulders and arms visibly straining as anger flooded his body. Joel looked back to you, a mixture of disbelief and fury contorting his features. You dash over to him, resting a hand on his arm in support. "Joel, please ca-" "What the hell is wrong with people!" he continued to rant looking between you and Ellie. He felt sick to his stomach that anyone would even entertain the idea the he would hurt you. "I'll fucking kill whoever said that," he mumbled in an ominously dangerous tone as he began pacing back and forth. "I'll rip their goddamn tongues out for them. I'll make sure-"

"Joel!" Reaching out, you grab both of his shoulders, forcing him to stop and snap out of this manic descent he had slipped into. When his eyes landed on yours, the darkness swirling within them, melted away, replaced with a devastation that almost made you cry. Joel brought his hands to cup your face. "Darlin', you know I'd never do that." "You don't have to tell me that, honey." Joel brushed a thumb over your cheek, sighing and shaking his head. "Did you know?" You nod, pressing your lips together in a thin line. "Yeah. I was hoping to put an end to it without you having to know."

"What do you mean?" Joel asked, his brow furrowing. "Maria came by earlier..." Joels face slid into a cold stare. "Of course she did," he huffed with disdain. "Oh don't worry, honey. I had a few choice words for her. I told her, well, practically screamed at her that you'd never do such a thing. And if she hears anymore talk, to shut it down." "Even when the world goes to shit, people still love a gossip," Joel spat the last word out like it was a bad taste on his tongue. "So, did she believe any of it?" he asked, his expression hardening once more.

"I think at first she did." Joel rolled his eyes. "But after I corrected her," - you emphasized the word corrected - "She believed me." Joel huffed with scepticism. "Joel, I don't want you to worry about this okay. I'll take care of it." "We both will!" Ellie, who'd been watching the whole exchange in silent anger, piped up. "We're not gonna let them drag your name through the mud. I'll make them fucking eat it first!" You couldn't help but chuckle at Ellie's choice of words.

"Ellie, as much as I would love to see that... and help you, we can't just go around roughing people up. There's rules here for a reason, unfortunately," you muttered the last part under your breath. "So... what? We just sit back and let them slander Joel!" Ellie threw her hands in the air in irritation. "Absolutely not!" you retorted, determination settling into your voice." We show them just how wrong they are." Joel placed his hands on his hips, a typical stance for him when he's stressed. "And how exactly do we do that?" he asked, sounding defeated.

"By presenting a united front. We make them see how strong and happy we are, all of us..." You look to Ellie, then back to Joel. "We show them there's nothing to hide or be ashamed of, and then they'll have nothing to yap about." Taking Joel's hand, you give it a reassuring squeeze. "And if I hear just one more person bad mouthing you, I'll make sure they regret it." Joel's face softend into a grateful smile. He's not convinced he's worth such loyalty and devotion, but he can't deny the warmth spreading through his chest at the thought of his girls so eager to defend him. It's an odd feeling for him, as he's used to being the protector. He could secretly get used to this.

"It'll be okay. I promise," you say, not letting go of Joel's hand. "We've got your back, old man." Ellie slapped Joel on the back, drawing a chuckle from him. "Not that old, you little shit," he replied in mock offense. "Now... let's go," You moved to grab your coat and boots. "The mess hall is open and I'm starving."

On the way to dinner, you found yourself paying close attention to everyone you passed, noticing a few side eye glances and disapproving looks. And every time, you pulled Joel's arm further around your shoulder and nestled closer into his side, a silent sign to the doubters that you feel no fear or discomfort in his embrace, as you would expect from an abused victim. Dinner wasn't as bad as you were expecting. Maybe Maria's influence with the townsfolk is to thank for that.

However a few inevitable glimpses were thrown in your direction. A middle aged couple made the mistake of allowing their eyes to linger on you for too long as they passed your table and you just couldn't let that slide. "Something you want to say to us?" you narrowed your eyes at them, daring them to open their mouths. Joel's arm snaked it's way around your waist, his jaw ticking as he too, stared them down. The woman's colour left her puffy face, while her husband forced a placating smile.

"Um... uh no, no." You smiled smugly at the alarm the old man was trying and failing to keep from his voice. "Good. keep it that way," Joel growled. The nervous couple looked at one another and hurried on by. Ellie smirked, "Fuck yeah, man! That's how it's done." "Damn right," you agreed, triumphantly. You could feel Joel's whole body relax around you and you gave him a "we've got this" look.

It may take longer than you'd like for all this nonsense to die down, but no matter how long it takes, you'll prove Joel's innocence, one way or another. You remember a saying from "Before"; "it's not all men", and if it's the last thing you do, you're going to make damn sure everyone knows it's certainly not your man!

[david-watts]

deeply want to kill myself again lol

[beiibeiii]

tracing her curse marks

arlecchino x f!reader fluff

tw: none, soft arlecchino, comforting arlecchino, slight angst..?you call her peruere, she loves u sm :( sorry ending kinda rushed, making my monthly appearance just to disappear again, not proofread.

ty @vissanctuary for the idea :>

it was late in the knave's bedroom. a small, dim light lit up the room. you and arlecchino were laying together in her soft bed, in a comfortable silence. you were curled up beside her with the side of your face against her chest, listening to the soft beats of her heart. her chest gently went up and down with each breath. you were basking in the warmth of her body, the flames coursing through her blood.

arlecchino's long, silky hair was sprawled out against the soft cotton pillows. the dim light, softly lit up your faces. arlecchino's hand was in your hair, soft strands of your hair inbetween her fingers as she rested it ontop of your head. her eyes were closed, relishing the warmth and tranquility in the air. she looked so peaceful.. a sight only for you to behold.

arlecchino wasn't asleep and you knew it. you let out a soft sigh of content at her act as your lips curled into a sleepy smile against her chest. you knew she always prefered to fall asleep after you, no matter what. she always had a strong sense of protectiveness when it came to such things.

your sleepy gaze wanders away from the bedside table and down to arlecchino's bare arms. her strong arms faded into black around her forearms. black marks traveled down her arms, creating tattooed-like patterns on her. a contrast to her milky white skin. you knew of her curse, but she would never clarify what it specifically was. you knew she was awfully aware of her marks. she would never admit it but was uneasy about showing them in public, so it warmed your heart to know she trusts you to show them to you now.

you felt the urge to trace her marks. your gaze lingered on her arm, your eyes tracing up and down her arms with weary eyes. you wanted to reach out and trace them lightly with your fingertips, but you wouldn't know how she'd react. you didn't want to take advantage of arlecchino's rare show of vulnerability.

arlecchino being a harbinger, could feel your loving gaze on her, glancing up and down her arm, specifically. she finds it strange that you take a liking in her despite her rough blackened hands.. she choses not to comment on it, letting you indulge yourself. her fingers slowly start to play with your hair again. she's extra careful that her sharp, well taken care of nails don't scratch your scalp too hard.

"what is it my dear..?" she mumbles lowly with an hint of softness. her eyes open slightly, trying to maintain her aloof demeanour. you reach your arm out and hold her hand. you feel her hand stiffen slightly. you feel the roughness of her palms against yours. intertwining your fingers together as your thumb lights rubs her hand. her hand is alot warmer than yours, its comforting.

you find yourself at a slight loss for words. you didn't want to stir up any uncomfortable emotions within her. you hesitantly answered with a small frown.

"did.. it hurt..?"

arlecchino fell silent. she tensed slightly when your hand touched hers. she could instantly feel the contrast of your soft hand against her tough skin. the feeling of your head nuzzling against her chest was distracting but in a good way. she could feel some of the memories and visons from her curse awaken. she wasn't the type of person to elaborate on personal information. she was never good at explaining herself, having kept everything in for a long time.

"don't worry, it isn't important. just rest now my love." she exhaled out quietly, clearly avoiding your question. she wouldn't admit it but the pain was excruciating. the feeling of flames running up her arms were painful, something she could never forget.

in truth she was afraid. afraid that her story would scare you away. that you would be disappointed in her.

that you would see her as a monster.

arlecchino closed her eyes once more, trying to ease back into that previous comfort. your eyebrows furrow at her avoidance. you can remember all the times you've confided in her, but cannot recall a single time where she had confided in you. you didnt want her to suffer alone, you wanted her to also be able to find comfort in you. to also need you.

she knew well that you'd catch onto her avoidance, despite the aloofness etched onto her face. arlecchino tried to seem tough like the unfeeling harbinger she is, but she knew even she had troubles sometimes. she loved how you could easily read her like a book, you knew her all too well.

your hand gently slips out of her hand, your fingertips dragged themselves up her arms, following the intricate remnants of her curse. arlecchino held back a slight shudder at the feeling of your fingertips grazing gently against her marks. she was sensitive about them.

"peruere.." you whisper quietly. there it was. the call out for her name. the forbidden name that tainted her.

her jaw clenched slightly as your touch travelled up from above her wrists. she let out a slightly strained, low hum. her eyes opened to peer down at your actions. the contact was overwhelming, but.. comforting in a way.

your hands continue to slowly trace the rough lines of her skin, following the beautiful dark markings etched onto her arm. you can hear her heart picking up its pace as you do. peruere feels her walls breaking down before building them back up again. a voice in the back of her head torments her, feeding her with lies, telling her she'd hurt you and how disgusted you are of her.

"thats.. enough now.." she mutters with an hint of nervousness. an warning to keep you from treading on dangerous territory. her words are all bark but no bite. she doesn't make an attempt to pull her arm away.

"but, they're so beautiful peruere.." you utter quietly, her name rolling off your tongue so perfectly.

"you know you can tell me anything right..?" you mumble again. your touch was so gentle, handling her so delicately like glass. as if she'd break if you pressed too hard.

a quiet breath left her parted lips. she wasn't used to being cared for like this. her tough facade started to crack once more under your touch and words. she wanted to deny your comment on how beautiful her hideous black markings were, but she couldn't bring herself to refute it. your tender traces made her feel vulnerable, a feeling she didn't know how to handle at all.

"i know... i just... don't want to burden you with my issues." she whispered quietly. vulnerability was seeping right out of her mouth and into her words.

her words hit you like a truck, how could she ever feel that way..? you sit up a little to glance at her face. your fingers started tracing back down her arm now. grazing against her perfect, unique markings.

"peruere.. my love. you would never burden me. i am more than happy to listen to you.."

her icy facade thawed a little more at your gentle words. she could see the concern and sincerity in your eyes, it was like you were piercing through her armor and laying her vulnerable heart bare. it was a look she couldn't refuse. your words were so full of meaning and tenderness, she couldn't rip her eyes away from your pretty ones.

"i.. don't know where to start." the knave.. no, peruere finds herself at an loss of words for once.

your hand slips back into hers. giving it a little squeeze. giving her a soft and reassuring smile.

"its okay.. i can wait, you don't have to tell me now. when your ready, i'll be there to listen to you peruere." you uttered quietly to her. that name making her feel weak.

peruere's eyes darted to your intertwined hands. she was not used to being comforted in any way and her instinct was to push you away, not to be vulnerable. she took in a deep breath, her stoic facade crumbling even more at your unwavering patience and understanding.

"even if it takes days?.." she questioned.

your hand brings your intertwined hands up to her face. your lips curling into a soft smile. the dim light shining on your face only making it brighter.

"even if you never end up telling me." you quietly whispered.

you can see her sharp features soften at your words slightly. you had completely broke her words down, even letting the tiredness into her system.

"lets sleep now okay? i love you." you smiled sleepily as well, as you plant a soft kiss on her forehead.

"i love you too dear, thank you." she utters softly.

her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into her warm embrace. her chin rested on top of your head. no more words needed to be exchanged. the two of you drifted off to sleep, basking in the comfortable silence.

maybe one day peruere will tell you. as of now, only small remnant's of arlecchino still remain. your fine with that, perhaps soon, peruere will let herself confide in you properly.

[mapis-putellas]

Princess treatment

Pairing: Leah Williamson x reader

Words: 1645

Warnings: none

Summary: based on this request

Notes: this didn’t write as well as I wanted it to, so I apologise

[prompt list]

"You have two perfectly working legs, you know?"

Leah groans from her place on your back, her head bouncing softly against your shoulder as you carry her through the tunnel towards the changing room. She'd just played a full ninety minute match and due to the numerous tackles sent her way by the opposing team, her legs ached and everything just hurt.

The second you'd gotten close enough, she'd hugged you briefly before rounding your body and jumping on your back, your taller frame catching her with relative ease. Sometimes she helps hold herself up, but today she was fully limp in your arms and incredibly grateful you were strong enough to do so for her.

"I know, but you love me and my legs hurt." She whines as you push the changing room door open with your foot, ignoring the playful teasing sent your way as you carry Leah inside before sending her down beside her cubby.

She sighs audibly as she wraps her arms around your midriff and rests her chin against your chest, your hand cupping the back of her head and tugging playfully on her ponytail. "And you think mine don't?" You raise an eyebrow.

Leah simply glares, and you laugh softly as you place a kiss to her sweaty forehead before gently pushing her towards the showers. "Go shower. You stink."

Leah's jaw drops in mock offence as she places her hands on her hips. "And you think you don't?” She mocks you. “The audacity, man."

"I never said I didn't.” you shrug your shoulders, picking up your towel and playfully flicking it at her as you pass.

"Hey! Watch it!"

*

Twenty minutes later, you exit the shower fully clothed with your hair tied back into a loose braid. You're immediately greeted with the sight of Leah. She too was showered, clad in grey sweats and a matching hoodie with her damp blonde hair tied back into a messy ponytail. On her lap were her shoes and socks, her lips quirking up into a guilty smile when she catches your knowing gaze.

By now, the changing room was completely empty, and you sigh gratefully at the fact because you knew your next actions would have you both teased relentlessly. With a kiss to her forehead, you crouch down in front of her.

"Thank you, baby." She mumbles as you take the balled up socks before undoing them and slipping one onto each of her feet, her shoes following which you make sure to tie as tightly as she likes.

Obviously, Leah was more than capable of putting her own socks and shoes on, but back when she'd done her acl, that obviously hadn't been the case. She was unable to put her own pants on let alone bend to tie her shoes, so of course you'd taken over despite her many, many protests of being able to do it herself.

You'd once watched her try and stubbornly do so for over twenty minutes, and that had not been a fun experience for either of you.

It was something that had continued even as she got better, and had eventually shifted over to training too. (Though she did thankfully tie her own boots.)

"There we go, all done." You use her knees as leverage to return upright before holding out her hands. Leah was quick to take them, a content smile on her face as she leans up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Thanks my love."

"You're welcome, Lee. Are you ready to go?" You hoist your kitbag onto your shoulder, brushing a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of your braid behind your ear.

Leah grins mischievously, and you raise an eyebrow as you watch her gather up her things before stepping up onto the bench and holding out her arms.

You give her a look that says, are you fucking kidding me, but all Leah does is bounce impatiently on her toes as she wiggles her fingers. You open up your mouth to say no, absolutely not, but your resolve gets thrown out of the window the second she pouts.

"Baby, please?" She murmurs, and you groan internally as you drop your bag and make your way over to her. The pout was immediately wiped from her lips as she grips your shoulders and turns you around, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and wrapping her legs around your waist.

"I love you." She kisses the side of your head, arms draped across your chest.

"Yeah yeah, I love you too." You grip her thighs and bounce her up slightly before once again picking up your bag, making your way out of the changing room.

She scoffs lightly as she lightly kicks your thighs, the pout audible in her voice as she speaks. "Alright, don't sound so thrilled about it." 

You laugh softly, "Lee, of course I love you. I wouldn't carry you literally everywhere I go if I didn't."

"Hey! You don't carry me everywhere!" 

"I don't? What about last week when we were at the shop? You didn't want to walk so I carried you the whole way round. Oh! Also the other day when went on that walk that you wanted us to go on and you literally lasted ten minutes before I had to pick you up. I also carry you to and from training practically every single day, with the exception of your fr-"

"Okay! Okay! I get it. You carry me a lot is it really that big a deal?"

"Oh no," you make it to the car, setting her down onto her feet before grabbing the keys and unlocking it. "I don't mind. It was you who got all defensive." You pull open the passenger side door and gesture for her to climb in.

"I did not get defensive!" She practically stomps her foot as she crosses her arms against her chest.

You purse your lips to stop your laugher as you nod your head. "Okay, you didn't. In the car please. I want to go home."

"But-"

"Baby, car."

"Defensive she says. How dare you?" she complies this time, slipping into the passenger seat whilst simultaneously continuing to grumble under her breath. You roll your eyes as you close the door and place your kitbags into the trunk before rounding the car to the drivers side, slipping inside and closing the door before buckling up your seatbelt.

When you see she hadn't done the same, you reach over and do it for her, lips quirking up into a smirk when you see her smile subtly at the action.

"Such a princess." You tease, giving her a gentle nudge before starting the engine.

Leah immediately gapes at you as she reaches over and slaps your thigh. "You take that back right now! I am not a princess!"

You laugh as you rub away the stinging sensation the slap had left behind, your free hand on the steering wheel manoeuvring the car out of the carpark.

"So you want me to lie?" You glance her way.

"Baby!" She whines as she drops her head back against the headrest of her seat, and you laugh softly as you reach out and place your hand on her thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

"I'm just teasing, Lee. I'm sorry." You genuinely apologise despite knowing you'd only told her the truth. If your words had genuinely upset her, you wouldn't let them slip from your lips again.

Leah's pout slowly drops from her lips, and she hums in satisfaction as she tangles her fingers with your own. As you drive, you absentmindedly graze the pad of yours thumb over the back of her hand, the soft skin warming slightly beneath your touch.

The journey home was silent with the exception of the radio, so it was no surprise that you find Leah fast asleep against the window of the car as you pull into your driveway. Deciding your kits would be fine in the trunk until tomorrow, you exit the car almost silently before making your way round to the passenger side.

You open the door partially at first, slipping your hand through the gap to keep her from falling.

"Lee? We're home baby." You murmur as you pull the door open fully, reaching over her sleeping body to unbuckle her seatbelt. You gently trail the backs of your fingers against her cheek, hoping it would rouse her so she could make her own way inside.

But to absolutely no one's surprise, she remains asleep.

With a knowing smile, you lean into the car and pull her upper body flush against your own. Holding her there with your least dominant arm, you use the other to haul her out of the car and into your arms, her legs hanging loosely around your waist.

"Jesus." You grumble as you nearly topple backwards, bracing yourself against the car.

"Easy." You hear mumbled against your shoulder, and you automatically freeze with a quiet sigh.

"Of course you're not actually asleep.” You groan as you let go of her waist, her legs hooking tightly around your waist in response. 

"I was until you practically manhandled me out of the car." She shoots back defensively.

You can't help but scoff as you slap her butt before wrapping your arms back around her waist, figuring if she was going to get down, she would have done so already. "Well excuse me for trying to be a good girlfriend." 

"Sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm grouchy." She whispers as you single handedly pull out the house keys and shove them into the lock, twisting them to the right before pushing open the door and stepping inside.

"It's okay, baby," you assure as you place your keys on the small ceramic plate. "Dinner and then bed, okay?"

"Okay."

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @goldenempyrean @liloandstitchstan

[jinxs-gf]

chuck’s favorite regular

jinx x bartender!reader

summary: it’s your first night working at The Last Drop. the stories of jinx being an…interesting customer are true

content, warnings: bar & drinks? jinx calls r ‘toots’, idk how much I like this writing style (bear with me now)

word count: 1.1k

a.n. this was requested but the ask disappeared 😭

It was your first night bartending at the Last Drop. Silco's bar. He owns a lot of them, close to owning all in the Undercity. This one just so happens to be special. Previously the Hound of the Underground's place. Now Silco proudly resides inside it.

Your future bartending partner, Thieram warned you about your boss's daughter. How she was a wild card and if you happened to get caught in her wrath there was no escaping until she decided to let you out. Not unlike a spider's web, you could only hope she'd let go and not eat you alive. To have mercy.

Though he insists Jinx has none.

He's...kind of right you decide. She's not done anything crazy yet. But she gives off this certain energy, one that screams be careful, to not turn your back on her.

She looks fairly innocent at the moment, at least compared to the bar that's in full rage. Loud music, dangerous games, dancing bodies...who could believe this is the girl that torments Thieram on the daily? Maybe she won't be so bad...

You’re contradicting yourself you realize. It's only your first time meeting, you shouldn't set your opinions on her just yet

She sits on the bar table, kicking her legs and looking at you expectantly.

You gulp, "Can I uh...help you?"

"Yeah you can, toots. Mind getting me my drink?"

Dammit Thieram. He didn't tell you what she orders. He spent so much time warning you about her yet he couldn't simply give you what she drinks?! What if she gets upset that you don't know and unleashes her-

"Earth to toots! Yoohoooo" her hand is shaking aggressively in your face, snapping a few times.

You stand in your spot, completely dumbfounded, eyes wide and pulse jumping.

"Uh...what is your drink?" Your voice is meek and careful (and a bit shaky), you felt as if you were poking a bear with a stick. Stupid stupid stupid.

Jinx cackles suddenly and very loudly.

"You crack me up, toots. It's only blood in a bottle."

She drinks blood?! Thieram! How could he not mention-

You try to be as nonchalant as possible despite your own blood running cold.

"So you're like a...vampire? Or-"

She laughs in your face once more, "Oh you poor thing," it's said quite mockingly, "it's a joke! You were totally convinced!"

You blink your eyes once, twice, and shake your head. As if it'll erase the image of a blood sucking Jinx. Your blood...from your neck. A very graphic image your mind unfortunately conjured up.

As if she wasn't intimidating enough, knowing she's loaded with guns and bombs at all times. Imagine if she was a vampire?! You'd be doomed.

However, you were curious now, what if she did have fangs? Maybe you could get a peek-

"My drink is the bottom cabinet in front of you. It gets a special place for Chuck's favorite customer."

Chuck?

You squat down in search for her drink, reach for the lone bottle, "Oh um, who?"

"Oh you've got to know Chuck! He's hilarious! A friend of mine, not my best friend of course. He's a little weird—you can tell him I said that."

You nod along, terrified of the blue eyed menace (one of the many nicknames given by Thieram, you agree. Though even thinking it worries you, what if she can hear your thoughts?). Speaking of Thieram—oh! That’s who she’s talking about.

"You two must get on well," if the man in question's stories were anything to go by, you'd say they didn't get on well. He doesn't enjoy her company, but she certainly enjoys his. By tormenting him.

You only hope you don't land in the same boat as him.

"Oh we definitely do, toots. Who’da thought a girl like me could befriend a scaredy-cat like him? I'd say we'd make good friends too someday. Maybe tomorrow!”

"What's that supposed to mean?" Because to you it sounds like a threat. If you become a good "friend" to her like Thieram is, does that mean you'll get the same treatment? And as soon as tomorrow?! You've barely worked at this place for a few hours and she's already planning on tormenting you by tomorrow!

She doesn't answer your question, instead pointing to (what you assume is) her cup. If the colorful scribbles were anything to go by. And a straw lying right next to it. At least you didn't have to go searching for those.

You nod, gulping. You're hoping to please her, not get on her bad side.

Jinx brings her feet up the counter, crossing and holding them with her hands, rocking playfully back and forth.

She’s dangerously close to the edge, one miscalculated move and she’ll go splat onto the sticky floors.

Maybe it’ll knock some sense into her? Okay that’s rude.

You quietly hand her the drink, plopping the straw in.

Jinx jumps down the counter to sit on the stool, hunched over the bar table to sip. She dramatically smacks her lips, as if taste testing. You’ll admit you were a bit nervous, what if you forgot something in her drink? What if you poured it in wrong the wrong way? Would she get upset over that?

After a few seconds she smiles and nods manically, “10 out of 10! You pour a good cup o’ juice, toots.”

You breathe out relieved, deciding to play along, a little humor could ease your anxiety surely, “Thanks, am I already better than Th- Chuck?”

"You're certainly prettier than he is."

"Oh."

You blank, unsure of what to do with that information. Be flattered? Terrified? Or is she being sarcastic? You continue to play along,

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you joke and only hope it lands.

"It'll get me a free drink," she wriggles her eyebrows.

"Don't you automatically get free drinks? I heard the last guy that asked you to pay mysteriously disappeared."

"You heard right, toots."

You gulp for the—how many times have you done that tonight? She's great at making one sweat.

“It was great getting to know ya toots, but I’m a busy girl. Gotta bounce—think you’ll be okay? Ya know what? You seem like you can hold your own, here—just in case!”

Jinx goes in for a rough hug, and it’s over before you process it at all.

But wait—what was that noise behind you? That sudden weight on your back…

Uh oh.

And explosion goes off on you, and for a second you think it’s over.

But no, it’s simply a colorful, glitter bomb. The damage is done though, you’re sweating at your hairline. And your poor heart, it’s practically begging to run out of your chest.

There’s a note left on the counter, is it too hopeful to think it’s a ‘sorry for the bomb I just planted on your back’?

Nope. It’s simply a winky face in purple ink.

And you can't help but wonder...is she flirting with you?

How sick and twisted.

first time meeting and already down bad for each other? hmm

the request:

Reader is a newly hired bartender that Silco hired. One night it's the usual busyness. Loud music, shimmer people, etc etc. Similarly to "chuck" Jinx enjoys fucking around with them. Little powder bombs and stuff like that.