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hllywdwhre · 8 months ago

Text

Revenge - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy

Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any

Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestions💖

MDNI, 18+ only

You weren’t quite sure how it had happened.

Scratch that.

You knew exactly how it had happened.

Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. You’d protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.

You had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and… the sex was great.

Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didn’t expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your father’s only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your father’s gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and weren’t afraid to use it.

It wasn’t until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.

Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didn’t dare ask. He hadn’t asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didn’t ask about his scars.

It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.

“Alfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,” Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.

Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.

“Sabini’s a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?” You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.

Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how he’d ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.

The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.

You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,

“I’m not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, I’m just going to head back home, okay?” You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldn’t have a reason to not believe you.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.

“I won’t be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?”

You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,

“I will, promise,” you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.

Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.

The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew you’d have to earn Tommy’s trust back after this, but you didn’t particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.

Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommy’s shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, “I’m called the devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until you’re comfortable sharing a bed,” but it didn’t take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.

Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.

You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommy’s office next.

I’ll be back soon. I’m sorry for lying, but I’ll be back.

You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.

As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyone’s territory.

The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.

“If there is a God, please let me get through this. I’ll make it up to you… somehow,” you said quietly.

The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.

You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. You’d worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.

You needed Sabini to notice you.

You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.

The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.

You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabini’s club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her father’s territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.

It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadn’t even been an hour.

“You seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind weren’t welcomed here,” Sabini said once he was in front of you.

A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,

“My kind?” You questioned, playing innocent.

“Yes. Your kind. You’re the wife of Thomas Shelby and I don’t appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-“

“I wasn’t sent here,” you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadn’t fallen back behind your ear, “and I’m not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?”

His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Is that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.

“Perhaps we could talk about it somewhere else… somewhere private?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.

Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something you’d adopted a lot of.

“Allow me to show you to my office then,” he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.

He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.

Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.

“Trouble in paradise, I take it,” Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.

“It was never paradise to begin with,” you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.

You had grown used to Tommy’s Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasn’t nearly as smooth going down.

“Was it not? From what I’ve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leader’s daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” you lied.

“And how do you see it?”

“A desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the woman’s wishes,” you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“And so you’ve come to London for what?” Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.

“Because I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,” you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.

His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.

“And how do you think we could help each other?” He asked.

You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.

“They trust me, Mr. Sabini. They don’t suspect me of anything,” you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, “I can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once they’re all gone.”

“They don’t even realize the ticking time bomb they’ve got in their fingertips, do they?” He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.

“They don’t…” you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, “and neither do you, apparently.”

His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.

“I’d say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, you’ll regret it, but you won’t be,” you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, “Never fuck with a Shelby.”

In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.

You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.

Revenge is a scorned Shelby

As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.

Sabini is dead.

That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasn’t the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldn’t be last.

But you hadn’t told anyone about this time. You hadn’t told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.

You weren’t surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.

You hadn’t risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.

When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another man’s coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.

You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.

He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.

Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.

“I need a fucking drink for this one,” Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,

“Humor me. Short version first,” he told you.

“About a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, “Long version.”

“About a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,” you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, “then today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.

“So, I lied to my husband and said I didn’t feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying I’d be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didn’t want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what he’d done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.”

Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.

“What did the message say?” He suddenly asked.

“Revenge is a scorned Shelby.”

“Nothing about the Peaky Blinders?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t Peaky business,” you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.

“Was it not?” He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.

“No. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.”

“Explain.”

“He didn’t just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.” Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.

“So I’m your Shelby?” He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.

“Yes.”

“And that means you’re mine?” He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.

You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didn’t have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.

“Yes.”

“Then you should know something about what it means to be mine.”

“What’s that?” You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.

In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

“My Shelby is to never come home wearing another man’s coat again,” he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You don’t know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadn’t been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.

“You’re not mad?” You asked against his lips.

“At you starting a war?” He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.

“Livid,” he said with no hint of joking in his voice.

“This is quite the punishment,” you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.

“Oh, I’m livid,” he said, looking up at you, “but also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a man’s throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.”

You weren’t given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.

He didn’t bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he teased as nipped at your skin again.

“You’re the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,” you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.

He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.

He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,

“Up,” he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,

“Was killing a man not enough work?” You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldn’t be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.

“That’s cute,” he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, “that’s not where you’re sitting tonight.”

The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but you’d never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.

“Seriously?” You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.

“Seriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, you’re enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,” he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.

You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You weren’t given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomas’ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.

His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.

It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when you’d decided you could trust him, and you’d been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. He’d spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.

His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.

Tommy’s hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didn’t hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadn’t realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.

Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.

“Please, fuck,” you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, “Tommy, Tommy…”

Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommy’s movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.

You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.

Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didn’t let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.

You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.

If it wasn’t for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.

And then your third.

Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.

He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.

“Next time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,” he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, “and don’t doubt my punishments.”

You could’ve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasn’t for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.

“Think you can be a good girl and handle one more?” He asked.

Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.

Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.

The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didn’t mean you didn’t need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.

Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.

He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.

His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.

The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.

“Y-you,” you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.

“Say my name. Who do you belong to?” He repeated.

“Thomas Shelby,” you answered and dropped your head back.

“Good girl. You’re my fucking wife,” he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, “all mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. It’s my cock that you’re whimpering over right now, and it’s the only cock you’ll ever be whimpering over again.”

“I’m yours, Tommy,” you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.

“Then cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,” he commanded.

You didn’t need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.

His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.

“Want to feel you Tommy, please,” you moaned underneath him, “please, cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.

His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.

Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.

“Don’t. Not yet,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I’m going to crush you, love.” He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.

“Stubborn,” he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.

“Little late to the party if you’ve just worked that out.” Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. “Remind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.”

His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.

“Stubborn and a brat,” he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” you responded with a smirk.

“I don’t think of it that way,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.

“How do you think of it?” You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.

“I think I’m lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though we’d never even said that we loved each other.” He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.

A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didn’t know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.

He didn’t seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.

“I fell for you, too,” he finally admitted, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another man’s jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and why…” He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m yours and you’re mine.”

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winterrrnight · 5 months ago

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mystery of love

PAIRING: husband!soft!rafe cameron x wife!fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe started to get more busy with his business, and you couldn’t help but start to feel neglected by him.

WARNINGS: soft soft SOFT rafe, he's so lovesick for his wife it is crazy (no it isn’t that’s practically canon), slightly suggestive content but it’s written with a fluffy intent, usage of nicknames like goddess & baby, and just loads of sweetness over all, very very slight angst (?) and intentional use of lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: this fic is more on this, you can’t look at that picture and not think that’s rafe, cause it is! thank you so so much to @glimodejun who commented their idea which prompted me to write this 🫶🏼 i was supposed to write a blurb but I got carried away, clearly, and this is pushing 2k words 😁

anyways, please please reblog if you liked this and feedback is always appreciated! thank you so much for reading 🫧

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oh will wonders ever cease? blessed be the mystery of love

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

it was starting to get a little out of hand.

you always knew how important rafe’s business was to him, especially after he inherited it all from his father. the burgeoning fire in him to make the business bigger and better than it had ever been and be so much more powerful than his father, who couldn’t give him an ounce of attention or praise his entire childhood was one of the biggest things fueling his motivation.

that, and wanting to give you everything you could possibly need in great abundance so that you never felt you were at a loss of anything under his roof.

so you knew he tended to sometimes spend longer hours at the office, to get everything done, to not let a single mistake fall into place in front of his eyes, everything perfectly coordinated and right up to his standards.

he always made sure to call you or send you a text if he was going to be late, informing you why he was going to be late, the tentative time he should be back home, with a small ‘i love you’ and ‘i miss you’ accompanied with the occasional red heart he only ever used for you.

since the past few days, unfortunately you hadn’t been receiving the texts you always did. if you did, it was short, something along the lines of ‘i’ll be late’. but no explanation as to exactly what had been keeping him busy, and no words of endearment at all. he started coming home really late, most of the times when you had tried your best to stay up till he comes home, but the exhaustion would always defeat him in the race and you’d be out like a light.

and the next morning wasn’t close to being better than the night. if you were lucky, you would catch him getting ready for work, and you would always prompt him to stay for at least breakfast. but he would be in a hurry and shake his head no, saying something like ‘i have to leave, it’s important’ and leaving you with a chaste kiss to your lips.

whatever you’d ask, his answers to you would be short, concise and quick, and you felt as if you’re catching the subtle drift of vexation and annoyance in his tone. was it actually there or were you just imagining it? you didn’t know.

and if you weren’t lucky, you wouldn’t even get to see him leave. by the time you would be up, you would only feel the cold wrinkled sheets next to you, the faint scent of him lingering in the air as a burning memory of the love of your life.

this specific night, exactly one week after since the first day this peculiar behavior of his started, you were seated on the edge of the bed after a shower, applying your lotion on your arms as you prepared yourself for another night of waiting for rafe, falling asleep in the process, and letting it be a mystery solved only by some higher power if you would see him in the morning or not.

as you were rubbing the lotion into your skin, you couldn’t help your wandering mind. how were you supposed to deal with this situation? were you supposed to confront him and demand answers? or were you supposed to tread slowly? you knew you were nearing the end of the american fiscal year; 30th of september being right around the corner. it involved loads of financial and accounting work, preparing end-of-year accounts and statements, and what not. so him being busy felt justified. but he should be able to spare a moment to at least send you a proper text, shouldn’t he?

no, you shake your head. you’re his wife, for god’s sake. you shouldn’t be reducing your worth down to some text. heck, you should be getting proper calls from him. you’ve been so wonderfully patient, not complaining for a second for the past week. the least you can get is a proper conversation with him.

as you made up your mind firmly, your thoughts were cut through firmly when the door to your bedroom opened. you looked up to see rafe entering inside the room, his blazer off and resting on his shoulder, and his sleeves messily rolled up to his elbows.

“hey,” he muttered as he closed the door behind him, keeping his bag on the side and disappearing behind the washroom door.

“hey,” you said quietly, your gaze fixed on the floor as you heard the washroom door close. you remained seated on the edge of the bed, clad in a satin black robe which he swore made you look even more of a goddess than you already did as you waited for him to come out.

you heard the shower run inside for some time, after which the door opened and you were greeted with rafe sporting a pair of grey sweatpants, his upper body bare with some water droplets still trickling down his skin.

as he came out, he saw you in the same position at the edge of the bed as before. “hey why aren’t you going to sleep hm?” he asked as he busied himself with applying his moisturizer to his face.

“no reason,” you muttered, your back to him as you kept your gaze down at your feet.

rafe was very quick to catch the dejection in your voice, and before you knew it, he was making his way around the bed to you, standing right in front of you as he looked down at you.

“baby, look up please,” he murmured softly, one of his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

you lifted your head up to meet his gaze, your eyelids heavy as you look up at him through your lashes. “yeah?” you mumbled.

rafe exhaled softly at your bleak tone. he sank down on his knees in front of you, his gaze coming to your level.

“listen baby,” he sighed softly, placing both his hands on your thighs right below the hem of the robe. “I… I haven’t been the best husband the past week and I’m… so so sorry about that,”

his heartfelt words reached your ears and caused your eyes to widen, your mind started to work away the gears to process his words.

“I haven’t been giving you the attention and love I vowed to give you on day one,” he whispered looking deep in your eyes, his own eyes softened to such an extent it had you melting completely. “I haven’t been communicating well with you I…” he muttered, running one hand over his prickly buzzed hair, “I didn’t mean to do that baby I’m so sorry…”

you wanted to say something, anything, for that matter, but you were rendered completely speechless when you started feeling him press kisses over your thighs.

“I hope you can forgive me,” he whispered into your skin, “I hope you can forgive me for everything I did… I’ll make it up to you I promise…”

your lips parted to let out shuddering gasps as you felt him slowly move the satin of your robe up to reveal more of your thighs, his lips pressing kisses against your inner thighs and trailing over your outer thighs.

“I’m so sorry… so sorry, my goddess…” he whispered. “i won’t ever do this again… you’re my top priority, always, and there will never be a second where you don’t feel that way…”

his words left a searing mark on your skin, his lips trailing up to your left hip bone. one of his hands came to rest on your right hip, rubbing gentle circles onto your hip bone through the satin of your robe, and his other hand shifted your robe even higher to grant him more access to your skin. his lips landed on your hip bone and he pressed the most tender kisses along the bone, a soft gasp escaping your lips at his actions. your hand came to rest on the side of his face, your head leaning back as you felt the sensations of his lips on your sensitive hip bone thrum all throughout your body, lighting up each and every nerve that constituted you.

“I love you so much…” he whispered against your skin, starting to gently suck on your skin, his eyes fluttering shut. a hum of pleasure tumbled past your lips, your own eyelids getting heavier. “I love you so so much darling and I’m…” his lips started to trail over your lower abdomen, pressing kisses through the soft satin of your robe that still covered your upper half, “I’m never making this mistake ever again I promise... please forgive me…” he pleaded, his lips making over to your other hip bone and kissing on it, before gently sucking on it the same way he did earlier.

“you only deserve the best…” he murmured, lips trailing a path down to your inner thigh again. “just the best… cause you are so amazing…” he whispered, nipping on the soft skin of your inner thigh. your fingers curled over the nape of his neck to give you some leverage, soft gasps leaving your lips, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chest starting to heave from every kiss and nip of his lips and teeth.

his both hands now rested on the sides of your thighs as they gently kneaded into the flesh and his lips peppered insistent kisses all over your inner thighs. he looked up from your thighs up to you, a pleading expression in his eyes, his lips slightly parted as breaths escaped them.

“please forgive me, my beautiful goddess…” he implored, his voice a mere whisper. “please please forgive me, I’ll never do the same I promise…”

you looked down at him, your fingers trailing to the side of his face to gently cup his cheek. he snuggled into the warmth of your hand almost immediately, his eyes closing for a moment as he let out a soft sigh, letting his lips press a chaste kiss to your palm.

“I forgive you, rafe…” you whispered.

that made him look up at you, his eyes widened and the pleading expression draining out to be replaced with a hopeful one.

“yeah? you do?” he asked, squeezing your thighs in return.

“yeah,” you whispered back, giving him a small smile as you trailed your fingers to the side of his neck, gently scratching your nails against it. he let out a soft exhale at the sensation, letting his head drop to your thighs as your fingers made their way to the back of his neck, continuing the scratching motion. he almost purred in your lap at the feeling, nestling his face into your thighs.

“thank you…” he whispered against your skin. “I won’t disappoint you again, I promise,”

you let out a gentle sigh as you looked at his buried face in your thighs, your expression softening more.

“I know you won’t,” you mumbled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his head.

that night, he held you in his arms and kept you pressed against him, his warmth lulling you in the most beautiful slumber you had experienced in that past week. he made sure you fell asleep comfortably, his lips always pressing random kisses to whatever part of your skin he could succumb to, whispered sweet nothings stumbling past his lips to your ears to alleviate you to great heights.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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haikyu-mp4 · 6 months ago

Text

Safehouse

word count; 1497 – gn!reader

Atsumu didn't usually let things bother him for too long. He knew he always did his best in volleyball and he did his best to be a good friend and teammate even though he’s got an ‘unlikeable personality’ as Kiyoomi would phrase it.

But sometimes, it’s just a little too much for him to process, too many missed serves or spikes and petty disagreements, and there was just one place his mind goes to when that happened. His brother.

More specifically, he would go to Onigiri Miya, where Osamu seemed to spend most of his time trying to make the business go ‘round. That’s why he’s storming in this particular Thursday evening, brushing past you with a quick hello before opening the door to the backroom and rushing in.

You stood there, a bit startled with surprise as you chuckled under your breath. Working at Onigiri Miya had so far been your favourite job ever, and that came with seeing Atsumu ever so often.

After about 5 minutes, Atsumu came back out while you were serving an order with your service smile plastered on. As you walked back to the counter, you found the twin looking around for something before his eyes met you. It might have just been a trick of your eye, but it looked like his usually bright eyes were a bit teary. “Hey, Atsumu. Can I help you with anything?” you asked him.

“Have you seen my brother? Looks kinda like me but ugly,” he said with a cheeky smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes like usual. You laughed anyway, shaking your head before grabbing a cloth to clean the counter.

“I think I know who you mean, but he’s out. There was a delivery issue so he decided to go get it himself,” you explained, glancing up at Atsumu from time to time while working. Thursdays weren’t that busy. He was fiddling with his hands now as you put the cloth away after finishing the clean-up like he was struggling with what to do with this new information. Since he didn’t really answer you, you stopped in front of him and tried to meet his eyes. “Is there something wrong, love?”

You were similar to Osamu in many ways, at least Atsumu thought so. With your warmth and kind smile, he harboured some kind of crush on you ever since he met you on your second day working there. “Do you have some… food?” he asked, voice nearly cracking. You patted his shoulder and nodded, walking past him into the kitchen.

“I think I might find some, yeah.” This made him breathe out a short laugh, sitting down on a bar stool so he could be closer to you. “I’ll get your favourite going, I asked Samu about it once,” you said, hands already working while you glanced up at the restaurant to keep an eye on the customers as well.

Atsumu finally smiled again, if only a little. “You asked him?”

“Making food is my love language,” you said, looking down at the food again so he couldn’t see your red cheeks. Atsumu hadn’t felt his chest fill with this kind of warmth since he last visited his mother, and boy did it feel good on that particularly shitty day. He leaned on his hand on the counter, eyes observing you while you made him food. To show him love.

You didn’t start too much conversation, assuming Atsumu would talk to you if he felt like it, but for now, he seemed content watching you work and asking how your day had been. In the end, he seemed a bit lighter by the time you put his food in front of him, but it still didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you so much, y/n. I really needed this,” he said, mouth already filled with food.

“My pleasure. Professional athletes have bad days too, I guess,” you sighed, hinting that you were there if he wanted to talk.

Atsumu nodded and kept stuffing his mouth, mind going back to his high school team and their banner. “Luckily, there is always tomorrow.”

You laughed more genuinely this time, patting his shoulder as you passed to serve a table who asked to order more. “There is always tomorrow.”

By the time you came back after delivering their new order, Atsumu had finished his onigiri and you could feel his eyes following you again. You raised an eyebrow, taking the plate from in front of him and waiting for whatever lay on the tip of his tongue. “Speaking of tomorrow, how about a date?” he asked, speaking quicker than usual so by the time you registered his words, the plate slipped from your hands and crumbled to the floor in broken pieces. “Shit.”

You shook your head to rid of the fluster, squatting down quickly to pick up the pieces. Your cheeks flushed as Atsumu hurried around the counter to bend down and help you. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why-” you tried to laugh it off, finally about to tell him that yes, you would love to go on a date with him when the wonderful sound of your boss’ voice rang through the kitchen.

“Y/n? Did ‘Tsumu stop by?” And because both of you were called, Atsumu accidentally knocked his head into yours, making him drop all the pieces of porcelain to caress your head. However, you were already off balance so he ended up just pushing you backwards and falling with you, landing unceremoniously on top of you and scraping the pieces of the broken plate along the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” he said, the tone of his dialect even more prominent. And at the perfect moment, Osamu walked in. You were having such a moment, what happened? you thought to yourself, while Atsumu’s head was echoing stupid Samu.

“What the hell is going on here?” your boss asked, making the two of you look at him with surprise as if you didn’t already know he was there.

“This is not what it looks like!” Atsumu yelled, making Osamu look over his shoulder with an apologetic smile at the customers out in the restaurant.

“He knows that, idiot, just get off me,” you laughed, pushing his shoulders to help him up. He scrambled to his feet, finally managing to bend down and pick up the biggest pieces of the broken plate with scattered rice that was now sticking to the floor in some places.

Osamu had already gotten to work, letting the two of you settle yourself and smirking to himself as he imagined how much his brother made a fool of himself. While Atsumu was throwing away the pieces, you quickly got the mop out to clean the floor of rice and smaller pieces, finally getting it all into the dustpan and then the trash. You sighed, using your hand to fan your face, which was red from the quick work and how hot the room suddenly was. Should I turn the air conditioner on lower?

Your boss passed by you with a certain look you couldn’t quite read, but it made you squint at him with suspicion. Then you looked past his shoulder, at sweet, clumsy Atsumu who was back in the high chair with his hands intertwined on the counter in front of him like he never hurt a fly. Okay, maybe you knew why Osamu was looking at you like that even though he was being uncharacteristically silent about it.

While Osamu swiftly moved around to cover his half of work and then some, you took the opportunity to stand in front of his twin again with your hands out in front of you like you were bracing yourself for a surprise impact. “Yes.”

Atsumu stared at you with a blank look, but at least he didn’t look as dejected as he did earlier. Guess you knocked some sense into him with your head. “Yes?” he repeated, a bit lost.

“I’ll work out my schedule with Osamu and you can pick me up tomorrow,” you clarified, picking up one of the business cards that sat by the till, and quickly jotting down your number. “Text me for the address.”

His eyes lit up with that mischievous spark you liked so much that was missing when he came here, standing up from the chair and clutching the little piece of paper as he turned around to the restaurant. “Samu! She needs off tomorrow evening!” he yelled, making you shush him. When did that ever stop Atsumu?

Osamu just turned back to the customer he was standing closest to, seemingly apologising for his brother’s behaviour again while said brother turned back to you like he just solved all your problems. You shook your head with an affectionate smile before going back in the kitchen, waving him off. “Idiot. Now leave before he gets back, unless you’d like our first date to be in the hospital.”

masterlist

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eroscomet · 27 days ago

Text

Make it Right

Chapter two- Hauting for Home

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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Mentions death, a bit angsty, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 3k+

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm so sorry that this chapter took a while to make. I was busy on the weekend; however, I found time to finally finish the chapter for you all! I really do hope you guys enjoy this one! I will try to get a specific schedule for updates on certain stories. If you guys are wondering about updates for 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours,' I will try to update that as soon as possible. I will also be doing a couple drabbles on different characters and or drabbles of characters I've already written for. I would also like to thank you guys so much for all the support you all have been showing me! I am so thankful and grateful for each and every one of you! Thank you so much for every like, reblog, and comment, it means a lot to me!

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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"You talked to my dad?!" Astrid had exclaimed with an amused smile on her face. There it was, that twinkle in her eye that you had missed so much. She hadn't been very happy recently, with you not around and everything else in her life that had been happening.

"Yeah, when I had first died. I got sent to the immigration office, and what do you know? There he was behind the glass. He's just as kind as you always told me he'd be. Surprisingly, he immediately recognized me. He told me that he had been watching after you and practically watched our love 'blossom,' as he put it." The two of you continued walking outside.

You couldn't help but think about how people must be seeing this. Astrid looked as if she were talking to herself from an outside perspective. Aware of her past, you knew people had a tendency to bully her, so when nearing Miss Shannon's School for Girls, you tried to get her to talk as much so that others wouldn't look at her funny. So, you took up most of the time on the way there, talking as much as she could so that she didn't have time to talk. Which was odd because she was usually the one who'd talk while you'd listen.

"He said he liked me, which is a relief. Sometimes, I feel like your mom is more confused but is trying to be supportive. I mean, remember when I had first come over, and she started talking about how she too 'experimented' as she said. Anyway, that isn't the point. I met your dad, and we actually frequently visited you together. It's funny, sometimes we'd bond over how much we missed you."

Astrid's eyes had furrowed as she had begun to notice that every time she began or wanted to speak, you only spoke faster, almost sputtering out information. A frown tugged at your lips as she had caught on.

"I just don't want people to look at you even more weirder than they already do. If you're talking to yourself, they'll find that an easy target. Try...putting on some headphones and pretending you're on the phone? Or you can just put your phone up to your ear?"

She smiled as she took her phone out of her pocket and brought it up to her ear.

"Thanks, you're right. So, what else did he say about me? Did you see my grandfather? What's the afterlife like?" Astrid felt like she had a million different questions to ask.

"Your dad says he's proud of you and that he sees himself in you all the time. As for your grandpa, no. I mean, I feel as if it's harder to find him since he did lose his head to a shark. The afterlife is a bit weird. I can't tell you much about it since I haven't exactly crossed over. I basically only know what headquarters and a few shops look like. I mean, there's a 'Soul Train' which essentially takes you to the 'Great Beyond,' but I never went because I don't want to risk not being able to watch over you."

You grabbed Astid's shoulders, moving beside her to walk toward the street end of the sidewalk. Even though you were dead, the sidewalk rule never really left you, even while Astrid couldn't even see you.

"Yeah, I figured. I almost can't believe that a shark bite ended his life, I knew my family wasn't normal, but we can't even have a somewhat normal death? The Great Beyond, huh? Soul Train is a clever name though. Does no one know what's on the side?"

"I mean, I've never seen someone leave then come back from the train in the full year, almost two years that I've been here. I'm not taking the risk and crossing anyway, I can't lose you again after we just got back to each other."

"You're right..." Her eyebrows furrowed, her attention on the sidewalk as they continued to walk. She thought to herself for a moment before speaking again.

"So, you don't have any ghost tricks you learned?"

"Of course, you'd ask that, would you be disappointed in me if I said I didn't?"

"I mean, you've been gone for a year almost two, I'd expect you to know at least something to make me feel better for all the time you've been gone."

"Okay, uhhh... I can walk through walls and, I guess, float a bit."

"That sounds like every other ghost."

"Just because i'm a ghost doesn't mean I have super powers, Astrid."

"Just saying."

"I mean, I do have this nasty scar from the accident." You lowered your shirt neckline, showing the scar on the lower part of your neck. Astrid winced at the scar before looking away.

"Right. Weird how all it took was one neck twist for you to die.

"Well, it's more like my neck twisted as if I was a cartoon character that got punched, and my head began spinning-"

"Ew, shut up. Don't talk about it like it's something light."

"I'm sorry, you're right."

It was silent for a bit as you guys walked into the school, Astrid opened one of the doors while you phased right through the other door. Astird put her phone back into her pocket as she walked upstairs and past the other students. You followed after her, your eyebrows furrowing at the other students nearby her dorm. Some of them whispering to each other while giggling.

That's when Astrid opened her dorm room's door, a bedsheet attached to the ceiling by a rope coming straight towards her. The bedsheet makes out a ghost with a 'Boo' sign in its chest area. Astrid stumbled back before turning around and looking at the other girls, who began to burst out into laughter behind her.

"When you're all driving carpool and banging your pilates instructor to fill the empty voids in your life, we'll see who gets the last laugh."

The girls smiles and laughs quickly died as she finished speaking. Astrid turned around as she went into her room, shutting the door behind her. You smiled proudly, a laugh escaping you as you saw the looks on the girls faces as they disburst from Astrid's door.

"Witty as always." You said as you phased through her dorm room's door. The make-shift ghost on the ceiling startling you a bit as you had almost 'ran' into it. Sometimes you forget you're a ghost even if it's been a year.

"They have not toned down with the comments? You had always been careful about this topic, not wanting to bring it up too much with Astrid.

"No." It was a simple and straightforward answer that made you not want to question further. A part of you felt angry that you were helpless to all of it now that you're dead. You had gotten so used to defending her against everyone but now your words would only fall on deaf ears.

You sighed as you plopped yourself onto her dorm room's bed, thinkiing for a moment on how to steer away the conversation of bullying that she obviously did not want to talk about.

"Did you hear that my sister's pregnant? I know that I shouldn't bother looking over them since they're perfectly fine.."

"I'm not surprised."

"She's naming the baby after me."

"God, that's ridiculous! Naming their kid after a relative who isn't even dead yet-" Astrid's voice faltered for a moment. The fact that you were dead and have been for almost two years was still a punch in the gut after all this time.

"That's what I said, baby." You offered her a small smile as you played into the bit that you were still alive for Astrid. She still wanted to make her at least feel a bit better.

'Baby.'

Your words - and your smile, even if it was for her benefit - just made Astrid's heart twist further in her chest.

"You're killing me here."

"Why?" Your head tilted to the side as you looked at her.

"Because you're supposed to be dead." Her voice came out in a strangled whisper as she looked down at the papers scattered on her desk.

You bit your lip, you didn't want to show that what Astrid had said hurt you. Even if you were dead, you still had emotions and feelings. You paused for a moment before deciding to drop the topic.

"So, they're having a baby shower. You should go."

"Oh god, a baby shower? Is it too late to make you disappear again?" Her face had immediately scrunched up with distaste at the idea of being forced to go to a baby shower - especially your self-centered sister's baby shower where she'd name her child after you for her own gain.

"Come on, you couldn't see me for a whole year, and now that you're finally able to, you already want to get rid of me? That's cold, babe, even for you. Even for me who's dead cold. Get it? Huh? Dead cold. Because i'm dead? And i'm cold now because I have no blood. No? Okay."

"Oof, that was horrible." She said as she shook her head and grumbled in response.

"Come on, admit you missed me. I heard all your late-night talks that you thought weren't reaching my ears."

"I did miss you - I've missed you for a whole year." She confessed, sounding a bit surprised by her own confession. The room fell silent, the weight of everything that had happened falling onto the both of them. Neither of them wanted to address it, though, they didn't want to have to deal with it now.

"Did you ever-" She paused for a moment as she thought of the right words to say, "When I'd lay in your bed and mope, were you just...watching me?"

"No, I hated that. I'd still do what I would've done if I were alive. I tried holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear that never got to you."

"Sweet nothings, huh?" She teased, which earned an eye roll from you. Again, the room had fell silent as the two were lost in thought before Astrid spoke again, breaking the silence.

"How bad did it hurt?"

"Uh.. Well... I just remember being on the ground one second, then in the air the next. I landed, and well- You know what. It had hurt for that second that I was alive, but it had been an instant death if anything."

Having to talk about your death wasn't an easy topic. It was a reminder of how quick you had lost it all. The blood in your system, the beat of your heart, Astrid. The sight of you nervously fidgeting with your own fingers made Astrid's heart ache.

"I hate that." She muttered, her voice coming in strained, almost as if she was forcing herself to get the words out.

"I'm sorry." Your words were mumbled as she continued to fidget with your fingers, now more anxiously than before. The apology caused Astrid to shut her eyes, trying to hold herself together. She felt that now was not the time to start breaking down.

"Don't. Don't apologize." She had almost snapped at you as she opened her eyes to shoot a glare at you.

"Okay." You were never one to go against her word, you didn't want to start a fight. Especially not now. All you could do was bring up one of your hands, beginning to gently pull on the hairs on the back of your neck as you avoided Astrid's eyes.

"Is that a nervous habit of yours now? Pulling your hair." She asked as she reached her hand out idly to brush your hair out of your eyes.

"I had gotten it when I first reached the afterlife. When you watch the people you love hurting, and all you can do is ghost around them..." Your voice had faltered, forcing yourself to clear your throat and then begin to speak again.

"You feel so helpless. Watching everyone who used to be around you and love you so miserable about your death. It makes you feel guilty but, most of all, useless. There's no way to hold, touch, talk to, comfort them... It's hard."

The room had fallen silent after your words. Astrid's fingertips gently brushed along the back of your head - tracing the place that you usually pulled at. She let her hand rest there, trying to keep you from pulling at your hair again.

"How cold am I?"

Your words made Astrid pause for a moment. Leaning closer to you as she wrapped an arm around her now ghost girlfriend. The chill of your skin made her shiver involuntarily - but Astrid tried not to show the way her body automatically wanted to shy away from the cold.

"Really damn cold. It's like you're an ice cube almost." Her words a mumble as she got closer to you, laying next to you as she rested her head on top of yours.

"I'm sorry that I'm not warm anymore." Your own words come out as a mumble as well, instinctively, your head rests on her shoulder.

"I know you don't much like when it's really cold. I thought I was keeping myself with this sweater but now that someone's actually able to touch me, I realize it's doing nothing for me."

"Gosh, you don't have to apologize for that. At least you're here." She pulled you closer against her, her arms wrapping around your waist - burtying her face into your shoulder, even if your skin was freezing and caused a slight burn against her own warm skin. She ignored the way that her body had involutarily shivered at the contact - focusing instead on the fact that her girlfriend was here.

"Barely." You mumbled quietly as you gently pulled away from your girlfriend, knowing that you were probably burning Astrid's skin with your own cold, dead skin that was now a pale blue hue.

"Don't be like that. You're talking as if you have no more hope."

"Death has a way of doing that."

Astrid let out a quiet huff at your words. Her eyes flickered back and forth from you and her own hands that were now gripped tightly on her bedding - but in the next moment, she let go. Almost as if with a full burst of speed, she darted to you. Her arms wrapping around your body, hauling you into her bed in a tight, crushing embrace.

"Astrid-" You had said in surprise and protest. You knew that you were cold. Dead. The cold would burn Astrid at one point, and you didn't want that. Not when you used to be alive and warm for her. You used to keep her warm and now you can only burn her with your icy dead skin.

"Don't even think about complaining. I don't care if you're cold." Astrid snapped as she held you impossibly close against her. Her body shivered once again as your cold skin was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her body - but she ignored the cold, focusing on the sensation of her girlfriend in her arms.

A frown had tugged at your lips, knowing that eventually, Astrid would get too cold, but after a year of being a lone ghost who watched your loved ones move on or suffer because of you, you couldn't help but be a little selfish. Your arms wrapped around her as tightly as you could.

You missed your girlfriend so much. Watching over her for a year, her suffering for a full year over your death, had done a number on you. You'd cry if you could, but all you felt was this deep internal sadness. You had no heartbeat, you had no blood to warm your body, you had no tears to shed from your dry eyes. Your chest was the most still it had ever been, you had no air to breathe anymore.

It had begun to feel like too much for the both of them. Being this close to each other after a year of thinking they'd never be able to have contact again, feeling each other's skin despite the feeling of a small burning on her own skin from your own. It was almost enough to make Astrid cry.

The cold was beginning to seep into her skin - making her shiver and leaving her skin prickled. But Astrid wouldn't - couldn't - let go of you. Not when it had been a year since she was able to hold you. You had only frowned as you held her tighter. A small hiss escaped Astrid from the cold contact as she tried to get herself impossibly closer to you.

"Damn it, it's getting too cold." She hissed, speaking between clenched teeth as she tried to bury her face into your shoulder further.

"Warm up with the blankets, I'll just lay beside you. I promise I won't disappear." You pulled away, gently moving Astrid off of yourself as you carefully pulled her bedsheets over her body. When you finished tucking her in, you lay beside her, admiring every detail you could land your eyes on.

She only huffed a bit, feeling oddly petulant about the fact that she had to let go of you However, she did as she was told. A small shiver rattled her body as her eyes locked onto yours. She managed to mumble something incohereently as she reached for you, trying to tug you close again.

"Too cold, baby. Just give it a moment. I'm here, you see me." You tried to reassure her as you gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.

'Baby.' The soft nickname only made her want to pull you close again, but she knew that you were right. Her boy was cold - skin still pricked and burned from being in contact with her girlfriend. She snuggled further into the bedding, her hand gently reaching out to yours. Linking her own pinky with yours, causing you to smile. Her eyes looked into yours as if asking if it was okay to which you had nodded.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: I don't know why this felt like such a short chapter to me despite it being the most words I've written so far?? I might have some filler chapters for this and 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours' sometimes. Then again, there is still a lot to write for the storyline themselves. Thank you, lovelies, for all the support on my posts! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm so sorry if some days I do not have time to update. Also, if there's anyone that wants to be tagged for updates on this story, leave a comment saying so! Bye, loves!

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x fem #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega imagine #beetlejuice 2 #beetlejuice #astrid deetz x reader #astrid deetz #Make it Right #eroscomet

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joelscruff · 2 years ago

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for what it's worth (joel miller x reader) 18+

part 3 of the soft!dom joel collection has arrived! this one tackles some backstory; it's time to see how they met and how exactly their little "arrangement" came to be. i hope you guys like it, your feedback means the world to me. i also have a kofi if you'd like to give me a tip (but of course this is completely optional). previous parts: you know i don't mean it & don't think we could help it summary: your relationship with joel has always been complicated, but it's about to change drastically, for better or for worse. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: fem!reader, smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), mentions of porn (specifically magazines) word count: 10k (it's a doozy) | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major but i figured i should warn for it anyway.

To say that your first day in Jackson is alienating would be an understatement.

You feel like everyone is staring at you (they are) and no one will let you out of their sight (they won't). You understand immediately that there's a lack of trust which will need to be formed as soon as possible, otherwise you'll never be able to create a home here.

"They're wary of you," Maria explains in your brand new living room - you still can't believe you just went from having barely any possessions to having your own house - and gives you a weak smile, "It'll pass, they just need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives."

You get it, but it still hurts. Especially that night when you join your new community for dinner and find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the room, poking at your food and trying not to let your emotions betray you. You're determined not to show weakness, even though you've never felt more isolated. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, like they're waiting for you to pull out a rifle and start picking them off like a shooting gallery.

There's only one person who seems to be consistently minding his own business, a middle aged man who sits in the opposite corner of the room. He's hulking and broad, kind of intimidating, but there's a softness to his jaw and the grey scruff covering it that makes you see something else, something kind. He takes large bites and seems lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall to his left but unfocused, like he's looking through it. He's by himself too, mirroring you, but you can tell by the way people move around him that he's been here for a long time. He must just enjoy his solitude.

"That's Joel," Maria tells you, sitting next to you and following your gaze, "He's my husband's brother, came down here a few years ago."

"He doesn't stare at me like everyone else does," you say, still looking over at him, "Does he just not care or...?"

To your surprise, she laughs, and everyone who's giving you dirty looks suddenly seems to soften. You're grateful for Maria then for bothering to talk to you, to try and trust you.

"Don't ask me to explain the things Joel does, I wouldn't be able to tell you," you notice that she has a full plate of food with her and that she's decided to sit next to you for dinner, an attempt to alleviate the mistrust for you in the room. You can't help but smile, thankful.

"He's a closed book," she continues, "Even Tommy finds him hard to read and he's his own brother."

She changes the subject then, wanting to know more about you and what you've been through, a not so subtle way of trying to get some information for the council. You humor her; you have nothing to lose.

Your eyes still stray to the man named Joel every so often as you speak, but you're not sure why. After about ten minutes he gets up to leave, and you watch him place his empty bowl in the dishwashing area and give the woman working there a small smile. She smiles back, says something to him. He laughs, and you can almost hear it over the bustle of the dining area. You watch as he says something else to her in parting, gives her one more smile, and turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look at you, not even once.

Over the next few weeks, things get better. Less people are looking at you and more people are actually trying to talk to you, get to know you. You have some nice conversations and answer questions about yourself - mostly appropriate, save for the one teenager who kept asking how you got the different scars along your bicep, the long one on your neck, the one on your cheek, stories you really didn't want to recount. After hounding you for a few minutes, her friend had pulled her away with an apology, "She likes scars," she'd said sheepishly, tugging the girl's arm, "Come on, Ellie, leave her alone."

You meet everybody, shake hands and even hug a few people. You start getting invited to things, asked to suggest films for movie night, help set up some games for the kids, Tommy even asks you one evening to help him herd a few sheep that had gotten loose. They trust you, and it feels good.

You still see that man, Joel, every night in the dining hall. But that's the only place you see him. You're not sure where he goes during the day or after dinner; he must just be a bit of a recluse, which you can't blame him for. The people here are nice but a lot are overbearing and a bit too friendly sometimes, plus it's hard to find time for yourself when everyone has tasks to complete and always likes to help each other out. You begin to wonder if he'll ever notice you, which leads you to wonder why it even matters to you that he does.

Your patrols start around the three month mark. Tommy takes you out with a small group beyond the borders of the community and shows you the ropes, points out where most of the patrol spots are with a pair of binoculars and goes over the routine. Your first assignment is simple: manning the watchtower with Maria. You spend most of the patrol getting to know her, hearing about her past and telling her more about yours. You like her a lot, she's easy to talk to and has a strong spirit akin to your own. The conversation gets pretty personal around the seventh hour, and you end up telling her how exactly you got the scar along your cheekbone. She listens deeply, thoughtfully, nodding along as you detail the more difficult things you've had to deal with in the past, the things that have made you stronger.

"You're tough," she says near the end of your shift, nudging your shoulder, "You don't really belong on watchtower, do you?"

You shrug, "I mean, if there's somewhere else I'd be more useful..."

"How'd you like to head out to the ski lodge with Joel next week?"

Your ears prick up at the name and you nod quickly, unsure exactly why, "Yeah, that'd be great!"

"He knows the area well," she adds, then grimaces, "I have to warn you though, he might not talk very much. He keeps to himself, I'm sure you've noticed."

You wonder why she's so quick to put you on patrol with someone who might not even speak to you, but it starts to make sense as you're walking back from the watchtower in the early hours of the morning. Tommy exits the dining hall and walks over to the both of you with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to Maria's cheek.

"How's my girl?" he asks flirtatiously, and she bats him away playfully.

"Was just telling the new recruit that she's gonna go on patrol with Joel next week," she replies, and Tommy stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow.

"Her? With Joel?" he appraises you and bites his lip, "I don't know, honey, wouldn't she be better off with someone who'll actually talk to her? I thought she was on watchtower with you."

"Tommy, I never see you anymore," she gives him an exasperated look, "The weekends used to be for us and ever since the Kingstons left-"

"I know, I know," he looks at you again, twisting his mouth in thought, "I've been, uh, a lot busier than usual lately. We had this family here for a while, big family, they helped out with the patrols. But they decided to go south a few months back, so-"

"So Tommy's been filling in for every shift he can," Maria finishes for him with a sigh, "And I never see the damn idiot anymore."

You smile, "I'm totally fine with taking over for you, really."

Tommy raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? You sure?" Maria slaps his arm lightly and he gives her a look, but then shrugs, "I mean, okay, if you wanna give it a try. It won't be all the time or anything, maybe just every other weekend, but it would actually be a big help."

"It really would," Maria adds, "You have no idea."

"But... you gotta understand, my big brother, he's.... he's complicated," Tommy's expression is serious now as he looks at you, "He's not very talkative these days, not since..." he shakes his head and you don't push it any further, though you do wonder what's changed.

"So you'll do it?" Maria asks, eyes bright.

"Even if he doesn't talk to you?" Tommy adds with a grimace.

You nod, somehow believing it won't actually be that bad.

It is that bad.

The first time you're officially introduced to Joel he doesn't even bother to shake your hand, just nodding vaguely to you as you stand there like an idiot with your palm outstretched. Tommy makes a face at him and then looks back to you with a reassuring smile.

"There's not usually much trouble up at the ski lodge," he says kindly, ignoring Joel's ambivalence, "The trek back and forth is arguably the worst part. The lifts were already damaged beyond repair when we got here so it's a bit of a hike, 'bout an hour to get up there and the same back."

You begin to wonder if maybe this really isn't the best idea, eyeing Joel silently as Tommy explains what you should expect. You've seen this man smile, know he's capable of making some kind of small talk, but it's clear that you're not an ideal candidate as he stands there stiffly and lets Tommy do the talking. Tommy had told you earlier that if the patrol didn't go well he wouldn't make you do it again, and you're already thinking this might be your first and last shift with Joel.

Tommy walks with both of you to about the halfway point, still going over the routine as Joel trudges silently ahead of you. He hasn't said a word, not one word. It's honestly starting to piss you off.

"Well, I gotta head back," Tommy says, giving you another smile of reassurance, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, see how it went, see if we might make this more permanent." He seems doubtful but you can't blame him.

A few moments later it's just you and Joel, hiking in complete silence save for the sounds of nature. The cogs in your head frantically turn, trying to land on something you can say to make things less awkward.

"So, when's the last time you saw infected up here?" you settle on, hoping it'll be enough to start some kind of conversation.

"'Bout a month ago," he replies immediately, voice gruff but quiet, "Weren't too many."

He's got an accent like his brother but it's fainter, less obnoxious, like he's spent more time with non-southern people in the later years of his life. Tommy had said they'd grown up in Texas and lived there 'til he was in his late 20s and Joel his mid 30s, then somewhere along the way they'd separated. You don't know much else about him other than that.

"It's the people you mainly worry about though, right?" you ask, quoting something Tommy had said a few weeks back, "Tommy said you've had more run-ins with raiders than infected."

"Tommy's tellin' you too much," he replies with a grunt, "Don't know what he's even thinking sendin' some kid up here."

You feel anger rise in your chest immediately, "I'm not a kid, asshole."

He stops then, turns around and appraises you with his eyebrows furrowed. It's the first time he's actually gotten a good look at you, his gaze catching on your face for a lasting moment before his eyes fall to your gun. You feel slightly vulnerable, intimidated by his heavy stare.

"How old are you?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Twenty seven."

His brow furrows even more, "Coulda sworn he said you were seventeen."

"Well, I'm not," you reply awkwardly.

"No, you're not," he acknowledges, "I'm sorry," He seems to mean it, giving you the smallest of apologetic nods and then turning around again to keep walking.

"You thought Tommy sent a seventeen year old up here with you? I thought you had to be eighteen to patrol outside the border."

"You do, I just wouldn't put it past Tommy to send a kid up here with me," he grumbles, "Wouldn't be the first time."

"...Why?"

"None of your business."

"Okay, but now I'm just thinking you're some kind of pervert," you say it in a joking manner but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he stops again and spins around, looking at you with what you can only explain as pure rage. You flinch backward, eyes widening.

"Do I look like a fucking pervert to you?" he asks, voice hard and angry.

"I was joking," you say immediately, shaking your head frantically, "It didn't land."

"No, it fucking didn't," he starts walking again at a faster pace, leaving you standing there completely floored.

Yeah, it's bad.

"Ellie's not speaking to him," Tommy explains to you the next morning in the dining hall, hands gripping his coffee mug. You've just told him about your patrol with Joel and the horrible impression you've already managed to make. "I really shouldn't be telling you this but with an outburst like that...I need you to understand why he reacted the way he did."

You look at him, bewildered, "Ellie? That teenager who plays guitar down by the stream?" And the one who'd relentlessly bothered you with questions about your scars, but you keep that part to yourself.

"Yeah, she's...well for all intents and purposes, she's Joel's kid. And she stopped talking to him a while ago, maybe six or seven months back now," he takes a sip of coffee, "Don't ask me why 'cause I have no idea. I've asked both of them and neither'll give me any kind of explanation. All I know is they ain't speakin' and he's heartbroken over it."

"Must've been a bad argument," you say, scrunching your nose in thought, "I mean...seven months? That's a long time to not speak to someone, especially your dad."

"Eh, you haven't met Ellie. She's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. They both are," he shakes his head, "Anyway, you calling him a perv probably pissed him off 'cause Ellie's real special to him, a surrogate daughter. He wouldn't like someone misunderstanding that, seein' somethin' dirty or wrong there."

"I wasn't-"

He puts a hand up, nodding, "I know you weren't, I get it, no worries. It's partly my fault anyway 'cause he's right, I have tried to send a teen or two up with him, thought it'd do him good to mentor somebody again. But he doesn't want it, I know that now. He doesn't want it if it's not Ellie."

"Well, he doesn't seem to like me anyway, no matter how old I am," you sigh, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, "I mean, he didn't talk to me once after that, not for the whole shift. It was bad. I don't know if it's gonna work, Tommy. I'm sorry."

He nods and gives you a small smile, thumbing the handle of his mug, "It's okay, I didn't think it'd work out anyways." He tries to hide the disappointment in his expression but fails miserably, and you leave the dining hall feeling bad about your failure.

A few days later you're back in the dining hall finishing up dinner, chatting with a few of the community members who you've warmed up most to. There's not many, but you are starting to find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around people as the days go on, more like yourself. You're caught up in a story about an infected you'd encountered in a gas station when their gazes suddenly divert from you and instead fix above your head. Confused, you slow your words and turn around.

"Oh, hi," you say, voice a bit breathless when you see Joel standing there, hands in his pockets, "Did you need something?"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he says it softly, kindly, completely the opposite of how he'd talked to you before, "When you're finished, of course."

"Oh, yeah, sure," your words are broken and awkward, "Uh, I'll meet you...?"

"I'll be outside the main doors," he says quickly, "Take your time."

"Okay, I'll be out in a few."

He nods to you and then to your friends, then turns on his heel and walks out through the big double doors at the end of the dining area. You watch him go, bewildered.

"I thought he hated you," one of your friends says, voicing exactly what you're currently thinking.

"Yeah," you reply, furrowing your brow, "So did I."

You finish your story much quicker than intended and shove away from the table, waving goodbye to your friends and bringing your empty dish to the cleaning station. You push past the double doors and scan the outside area for Joel, eyeing the picnic tables where a few people are enjoying their meals in the fresh air.

"Hey," you hear behind you, and you turn to see him leaning against the left side of the building, arms crossed, "Over here."

You walk over, trying to plan out exactly what you're going to say so you don't end up making some stupid joke again that'll push him further away from you. It turns out you don't need to, because he speaks first.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he says it seriously, a soft and genuine look in his brown eyes, "I treated you horribly the other day, you didn't deserve that."

You raise an eyebrow, "Did Tommy put you up to this?"

He frowns, "No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause if he did...I mean, I get it. It's nice of him to look out for me like that but you really don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything, I'm the one who said the tactless joke."

"Tommy didn't say anything to me," he seems to mean it, kicking the toe of his boot against the building, "And I know you were joking, I knew it then too but I'd just..." he takes a breath, avoiding eye contact, "I was havin' a bad day. Doesn't excuse my behavior by any means but it...you just..." he finally looks at you again, expression pained, "I wasn't expectin' you to be there. Tommy only told me you were takin' over for him about ten minutes before you showed up. And then I thought you were a kid and-"

You put your hand up, silencing him, "Joel, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

"I didn't even shake your damn hand," he says gruffly, sounding genuinely ashamed.

You extend your hand to him immediately, splaying your fingers out into the cold air, "Here, shake it now." He stares at it, unsure, and you wiggle it a bit in response, "Seriously, it's okay. Let's start over, clean slate."

He slowly reaches up to take it, his much bigger hand enveloping yours completely. His grip is strong and firm and you can feel calluses along his fingers, showing you exactly who taught Ellie how to play that guitar.

"Clean slate," he repeats, and it begins.

He's annoying, but you kinda love it.

He's grumpy most of the time, hates when you don't obey his orders, isn't afraid to give you shit, and gets irritated with you very easily. But it goes both ways. You're stubborn and set in your ways, you hate being told what to do, you dish it just as much as you take it, and it doesn't take much to get you riled up. And somehow, as much as you'd both probably hate to admit it, you work well together.

After your little conversation with Joel outside the dining hall, you'd flagged down Tommy and told him you were willing to try again with Joel on another patrol. He'd looked at you like you were crazy but hadn't shot the idea down, telling you that if it's what you really wanted, he'd keep the schedule the same.

You've been up on the mountain with Joel three times now, and while there's certainly been challenges and a few arguments, it's starting to become a routine. He doesn't talk about himself - it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you dare not break - but in return you don't tell him much about you either. Your main conversation points are usually tied to your interests, not your pasts, and you find yourself discussing movies with him, as well as music and books. He's surprisingly well-read for someone in an apocalypse, but you suppose he could say the same thing about you.

The fourth trip is what sets things in motion.

"Did you catch the movie last night?" you ask nonchalantly as you hike beside him, almost to the ski lodge. It's early morning, around five, and the sun is just beginning to crest the tree line, "I don't think Maria knew about the sex scene."

He groans, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes - you've noticed that he does this a lot, a quirk you've become rather fond of.

"Yes," he replies, wincing, "I heard her givin' Tommy a piece of her mind afterwards."

"The way she was yelling for him to turn off the projector was so fucking funny," you grin at the memory, still fresh in your mind, "And listen, I get it, sex is taboo, yada yada yada, but it's not like there were any little kids there last night, it was just the teens. And it's not like it was a porno or something, it was one little sex scene."

"Oh, I know, but I think Maria's trying to keep 'em as innocent as possible for as long as she can."

"Good luck with that," you snort, "I think we all lost our innocence a long time ago, for better or for worse."

"For worse," he replies instantly, "Definitely for worse."

"You're probably right," you grimace, "Although, you know what? I've actually never seen a porno."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Seriously? Never?"

You bristle slightly, suddenly a little self conscious, "Well, it's not like there's an adult video store in this town, is there?" You can remember them existing when you were a kid, before everything happened, but it's not like you'd had any use for them at that time.

"No, you're right," he turns away from you, lost in thought for a moment, "They do still exist though. Pornos, I mean. Just in other forms. There's a stack of magazines up at the ski lodge, actually."

Your eyes go wide, "Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Could I maybe..." you trail off and stop speaking, realizing that you should definitely not be asking what you're thinking.

"Look at 'em?" he finishes for you, not looking behind him as he keeps walking, "And you call me a pervert."

The conversation ends there, and you don't dare try to continue it.

The day is spent keeping watch along the ski lodge balcony, binoculars passed back and forth as you trade shifts and chat here and there about irrelevant things. Your main objective in this patrol spot is to keep watch of the main watchtower's blind spots, keeping an aerial view of the border perimeter in case people - mainly raiders - decide to make themselves known. You'd thought early on in your admittance to Jackson that infected were their main concern, but you've come to learn that's not the case at all. When Joel had said they'd come across infected up here he'd been lying to you; they'd actually come across a group of raiders who'd tried - and failed - to murder Joel and Tommy during their watch. Not the most reassuring thing to hear now that you've taken over, but you needed to know.

"It's why we got the trip wires down near the entrance now," Joel had explained to you during your second patrol with him, "We won't get snuck up on again," he'd made a face, "Not unless someone decides to disobey my orders."

You'd given him a weak smile, remembering how you'd decided not to heed his warning about going outside the ski lodge after light's out and ended up almost getting your leg shot off by a booby trap, "My bad." He'd rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.

Now that it's your fourth watch you've gotten the hang of things and have learned to enjoy the semi-solitude of being on the mountain with Joel. He's got a battery operated radio and a box of cassette tapes that keep you from being bored out of your mind, plus a few containers of books that he and Tommy had carried up over the course of a few patrols. Now that you really think about it, you don't remember seeing any of the aforementioned porn Joel had spoken of in any of those crates.

It's midday when you decide to glance through them again out of curiosity, handing the binoculars over to Joel and slipping past him as he traipses out onto the balcony. You head for the boxes immediately and start to dig through them, not sure exactly what you're even looking for. Someone naked, you guess.

"They're not in there," Joel calls to you after a few minutes and you stiffen, turning to look at him through the glass where he can very clearly see what you're doing. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and you feel your skin flush red.

"I don't know what you're even talking about," you call back, walking away from the books and plopping yourself in the chair by the unlit fireplace, which has somehow become your chair via another unspoken rule, "I was looking for a tape."

"Okay, well the 'tape' you're looking for is in the back of the supply closet," he sounds like he's fighting back laughter and your skin burns even more, "Underneath a box of cleaning supplies."

"I'm ignoring you," you yell out, "Get back to work."

You swear you hear a muffled laugh through the glass.

When he comes in from his shift he barely looks at you, just pushes past you lightly and heads for the supply closet. You follow behind him, heart pounding a bit harder in your chest the closer you get to the stash. He opens the closet door and you watch as he yanks out the cleaning supplies, then digs a bit deeper and reappears with six or seven magazines in his arms.

"Here," he leans them toward you and you hesitantly reach forward to take them from him, "They're mostly from the 90s."

"And you know this because....?" you raise an eyebrow and you swear his cheeks go pink.

"I'm a man," he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as he passes you again to head back to the living room.

"Perv," you call after him, but he doesn't turn around this time.

"You got ten minutes."

You've never seen so much nudity in your life, which is saying something considering you'd seen your fair share of it back in your QZ when life had been a bit easier. But seeing it on paper, in photographs that have somehow lasted through years of this shitty reality, it's something else entirely. You stare with wide eyes at the onslaught of naked bodies, most of which are posed in extremely graphic sexual positions, and feel your heart continue to pound in your chest.

Without much thought you'd opened the first magazine right there where Joel left you standing outside the supply closet, and you now find yourself sitting in said closet with your flashlight aimed at the pages, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend exactly how you feel about what you're looking at. A lot of it feels kind of fake, especially the looks on the faces of the models, but there's enough sexual energy there that makes you start to feel a bit wet in your underwear, a feeling you haven't experienced for quite some time; not since a few a years ago in the QZ when you'd been in your last relationship.

"I gave you ten minutes," you suddenly hear Joel say from the other room, and you quickly scramble to your feet and frantically shut the magazine, "In case you forgot, it's your turn."

"Fuck," you trip out of the closet and dash to the living room, clutching your brand new collection of media to your chest, "Sorry, I got distracted."

He stands by the balcony door and looks you over quickly, eyes scanning from the magazines to your face and back again, "Enjoy yourself?" his expression is unreadable and it makes you self conscious.

"Oh please," you reply, making a face, "Do not start."

"So which was your favorite?" he asks you casually once darkness has fallen and you're both safely settled in the lodge for the night.

"Which what?"

He looks at you from over his book and gives you a look, like he's questioning your sanity. You stare for a moment and then slap your hand over your eyes when you realize.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this now, am I?"

He laughs and you look over at him again, laying there on the couch with a smug look on his face. You retaliate by grabbing the pillow behind you and tossing it at him, making him drop the book he's reading.

"Hey!" he reaches down to pick it up again, "I showed them to you, I'm allowed to ask."

"False," you say, flipping your hair, "And for your information, I only managed to look at one of them."

He chuckles to himself and returns to his book, "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. I was just kiddin'."

"Joel Miller? Kidding?" you make a faux-shocked face, "I fear we've entered the Twilight Zone."

"Don't even pretend you know what that is," he says it seriously but his smile betrays him, "You didn't know about the Twilight Zone 'til I told you about it last week."

"That's just what I wanted you to think."

He rolls his eyes and keeps reading, letting the silence take over again. You watch his eyes scan the page back and forth, taking in the story - whatever it is - and transporting himself to another world, away from the ski lodge. He does this every patrol once it's too dark to see outside, sets the battery powered lantern to its highest setting and reads until he falls asleep. You wish you had his concentration and focus; instead, you curl up in the red armchair and force your eyes shut until your thoughts quiet down enough to let you sleep. Which is difficult tonight especially, seeing as all you can think about are those damn magazines.

After about five more minutes of silence you take a deep breath, then quietly say, "The one with the blonde girl in the bunny ears."

You don't dare look at him, waiting for his response and focusing instead on the empty fireplace beside you. You hear the crinkling of paper as he dogears the page of his book and then the gentle thud as he places it on the floor.

"That's a good one," he says just as quietly.

Another moment of silence passes, and your skin feels like it's on fire as you whisper, "I like the page where she's like...bent over."

"I can't remember the pages, if I'm being honest," he replies, "I haven't looked at them in a while."

You nod to yourself, "Well, there's this page where the guy has her bent over a table. And he's like...pounding into her from behind." You wait for him to say something else but he doesn't so you continue, "It's one of the only pages where she actually looks like she's enjoying herself."

"Hey, uh, I really was just kiddin'," he says awkwardly, "You don't have to tell me, it's okay."

"Oh," you can't help but sound dejected and embarrassed, your fingers trembling a little bit as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Sorry."

"I mean, if you want to, you can," he corrects, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "I know you probably....you probably want to talk about it."

You bite down on your lip and sigh exasperatedly, placing your hands over your face, "Kinda," you mumble against your fingers, "It's all I can think about right now."

"Did it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, voice still gentle, "A lot of people are offended by that kinda stuff, you wouldn't be the first person to find it weird."

"It's definitely weird," you take a shaky breath and drop your hands, "But no, I'm not uncomfortable. It was....I mean, it was hot," you bite your lip, "I haven't even thought about sex for a long time so it made me...uh..."

The silence is deafening and apparently neither of you wants to break it as you sit there without speaking, letting your words hang in the dead air. You suddenly feel like you want to crawl out of your skin for saying anything to begin with, for even asking about the magazines in the first place.

"Wet?" he suddenly says, voice breaking a bit, "It made you wet?"

"Very," you reply, relieved that he's not freaked out and trying to change the subject.

"Well, that's normal," he says, voice stiff.

You can't help but laugh, finally peering over at him and seeing that he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling, "I know it's normal, Joel. It's not my first time being turned on, trust me."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" he grumbles, looking at you in exasperation, "You can't just say that and expect me to give you a casual response. It made you wet, you got turned on, congratulations."

You stare at him, watching as he reaches for his book again, "Wait," you clamor out of the chair and reach beneath it to grab the magazine you'd looked at earlier. You shuffle over to him, thumbing through the pages until you find the right one, "Here," you open to the correct page and show it to him, "This is the one I'm talking about."

His eyes assess the page, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat as he takes in what you were referring to. He nods slowly, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean. She's about to come, that's why she looks like that."

Your brow furrows, "You can tell that from a picture?"

He shrugs, eyes still on the magazine, "Well, see, he's rubbin' her clit," he points to it and your face goes hot again, "And he's fuckin' her pretty hard. So yeah, I'd say she's either already comin' or about to." his gaze shifts back to you, noticing that you're staring, and he awkwardly pushes the magazine back toward you, "What?"

"I just..." you swallow, shaking your head apologetically, "Sorry, it just sounded really dirty hearing you say that."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, shifting on the couch and leaning away from you as he crosses his arms, "Well, you asked."

"I know, I don't mean it in a bad way," you step back and realize you're suddenly throbbing in your jeans, feeling that familiar wetness again, "It just... hearing you say it out loud like that, it makes the picture hotter, somehow."

He looks at you, gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. You suddenly feel like you've said too much, exposed even though you're fully dressed, and you walk back over to the chair and quickly plop back down in it. You give him another look and see his lips parting like he's going to say something else. Instead he takes a breath and drops his eyes from your face, twisting around on the couch to face the opposite way, "It's late, we should sleep."

"Y-yeah," you breathe, crossing your legs, heart stuttering as your clothed core presses wetly against the denim of your jeans. "You're right."

You curl back up in the chair and try to calm your breath, slow your heart, try not to focus too much on the fact that hearing Joel of all people say the phrases he's rubbin' her clit and fuckin' her pretty hard has made you start falling to pieces. Do you even see Joel that way? Has there ever been a moment where you found yourself thinking about him like that? You want to tell yourself the answer is no, that your body is simply experiencing some pent-up sexual frustration and he has nothing to do with it, but you know you'd be lying to yourself.

He's hot. It's not some shocking revelation or something you've realized over time. There's a reason you'd felt so drawn to him that first day in the dining hall, a reason you'd watched out for him every day and hoped he'd notice you. Hell, there's a reason you're still doing patrols with him despite him being a pain in the ass. You're not an idiot, you know yourself well enough by now to know what these things mean.

You're attracted to him. You've been attracted to him this whole damn time.

You shut your eyes tight and curl up into a ball, holding your knees to your chest. He's rubbin' her clit, his voice echoes in your mind, and your cunt begins to ache.

Stop thinking about it, you shake his words away and try to focus on falling asleep. There's no way you're gonna touch yourself right now, not with him in the room, and you're not gonna excuse yourself either like some horny teenager. You can do this, you can get through it, it'll go away soon.

It doesn't go away.

About twenty minutes later you're still sitting there with your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to touch yourself. But it's so fucking difficult. His words are playing on a loop in your head, over and over, soft yet rough, kind yet sexy, his southern drawl making it all the more hotter:

She's about to come, that's why she looks like that.

He's rubbin' her clit.

He's fuckin' her pretty hard.

I'd say she's either already comin' or about to.

You squirm in the chair, imagining what he'd sound like whispering that in your ear with his fingers pumping in and out of you as you came undone beneath him. Rubbin' her clit, his voice breathes in your mind, fuckin' her pretty hard, she's about to come.

You're ten seconds from breaking your own rule and heading back to the supply closet to find some release when you hear an unfamiliar sound coming from a few feet away. Your eyes flutter open, thoughts stopping momentarily as you try to figure out what it is. You turn slightly in your chair to see if Joel hears it too, and you feel your breath stop completely.

He's turned off the lantern so you can't see him properly, but you can make out the shadow of him in the moonlight, see the long shape of him directly mirrored against the floorboards and his hand stroking himself up and down, quick and rough. Your lips part in disbelief, realizing the noise you're hearing is the sound of his palm slapping against the base of his cock as he jacks himself off.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

Here you've been, desperately trying to push away any and all sense of desire so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself, wouldn't make him uncomfortable, and here he is doing that exact thing. Angrily, almost out of spite, you sit up in the chair and stuff your hand down your jeans.

Two can play at that game, asshole.

Your finger goes straight to your clit and you begin to rub it furiously, eyes trained on the dark outline of his hand moving up and down. You can only vaguely make out the shape of him but it's enough to make you start dripping, the base of your palm getting slick as you stimulate yourself continuously. He's well endowed, that much is obvious, and you watch his silhouette as he releases his large cock for a moment to bring his hand to his mouth and lick a stripe along his palm. You have to bite down on your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to bubble from your throat at the action, watching through lidded eyes as he brings his wet hand back down and fists himself once more.

Without much thought you slip your middle finger inside yourself, eyes trained on him as you pretend it's his cock pushing past your entrance. It's pretty difficult to imagine though, considering his cock is probably five times as girthy as your one finger, but you make do. You can kind of make out the shape of the tip, wide and shiny, disappearing and reappearing over and over. You slip a second finger inside and bite back a whimper.

The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin and the sudden wet squelch of your fingers; you don't even bother to try and make it softer, you're getting off now whether he knows or not, the fullness overwhelming you as you lick your lips and furrow your brow. You haven't masturbated in a long time; you know it won't take you long to get what you need.

"Are you-" he suddenly gasps into the darkness, and your head snaps up to look at him again, heart pounding when you see that his hand has stilled on his cock and he's looking over at you with an expression of pure disbelief.

You should probably be embarrassed, apologetic, but instead you can't help but feel a rush of pride, of spite, as he realizes what you're doing.

"Like you're not," you hiss back, practically spitting as you continue to fuck yourself, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he says back, and you can see his fingers clench around his length, like he's doing everything in his power not to stroke himself.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He groans and lets go of himself completely, sitting up slightly on the couch and shaking his head like he's trying to wake himself up from a dream he isn't having. When he looks at you again his eyes fall to where you're still getting off, not bothering to be sneaky about the way he practically bores a hole in your jeans with his gaze.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" he challenges gruffly, eyes coming back up to meet yours, the hint of a cocky smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, he's proud of himself, isn't he?

You glare at him, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going," you mean it too, fingers not even slowing down as you pant breathlessly in his direction, "And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

It does matter, actually, it really does. If he was to get up and walk out... it would basically be a rejection, something you're not sure you'll be able to deal with. You don't break eye contact with him, staring him down as you give him your own challenge.

He swallows, gives you one last look, and then flops back down into a horizontal position as he reaches for himself again. He returns to his quick strokes, almost purposely more heavy this time as he mutters, "No talking. Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you reply immediately, and add a third finger.

It doesn't take long for you to find your release, a particularly hard slap of skin from Joel on the couch pushing you over the edge. You don't try to stifle your moan this time, focusing completely on enjoying your orgasm as your hand stills in your pants and you begin to shake in the chair. Your hips buck pathetically, eyes shutting tight as you whimper and cry out in pleasure.

"Jesus Christ," you hear Joel pant a few seconds afterward, followed by a long groan as he starts to come too, "Fuck."

You manage to catch a glimpse of the way he twists his wrist, aims his cock against his button-down and stains it with his release. You wish you had a better view, that it wasn't so dark, but just hearing him come apart is enough. It's exactly what you hoped it would be.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, both of you panting breathlessly from your orgasms as the weight of what you've just done starts to creep in. You're suddenly slightly afraid of what he'll say, what he'll do. Will he get mad? Will he say he doesn't want to patrol with you anymore? You decide immediately that you don't want him to have the first word.

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, barely a whisper.

It takes a few moments for him to reply, and you start to worry that you've already ruined everything, but then he answers.

"Bunny ears," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I was thinkin' about the bunny ear girl," he's still breathless, "From the magazine. Weren't you?"

You figure you can't dig the hole any deeper.

"I was just watching you, Joel," you breathe, feeling butterflies tingle in your belly at the words, "Didn't have to think about anything else."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, then mumbles something to himself that you don't understand. You can't fully make out his expression but you swear you see him frown in the moonlight, not exactly the response you were aiming for. He suddenly turns on the couch again to face away from you, exhaling loudly, "Go to sleep."

The words strike you hard, lips parting in surprise. You obviously hadn't expected him to completely reciprocate, to jump into your arms and kiss you, but that? "Go to sleep"? What the fuck kind of a response is that? You stare at him, hoping against reason that he'll turn around again and apologize, say something different, but he doesn't.

"Yeah, sure," you mutter, curling back up into a ball in the chair and hoping sleep finds you as soon as possible so you don't have to think anymore, "Asshole."

You hope he hears you.

You wake the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging nearby, and you open your eyes blearily to see Joel crouched near the door, packing his bag. You stretch and yawn automatically, momentarily forgetting what had transpired between the two of you last night. His head tilts up to look at you and it all comes flooding back when you see that familiar frown on his face.

"Do you ever smile?" you say, voice rough with sleep.

He rolls his eyes and goes back to his pack, shaking his head, "Like you're so chipper."

"Well, at least I have a good reason to be annoyed," you snap, sitting up in the chair and stretching your legs, "Asshole."

"You love to call me that, don't you?"

"Just calling it like I see it," you mutter, pulling yourself up and heading past him to the door, "I'm taking a piss."

"Watch out for th-"

"The trip wires, I know," you interrupt coldly, "I'm not an idiot."

He doesn't say anything else but you feel his eyes on your back as you walk out onto the balcony and down the steps. You both have to pee in the woods when you're out here - the ski lifts aren't the only things that don't work properly anymore - so you've managed to each figure out your own designated area. You feel relieved once you're out of his eyesight and beneath the thick layer of tree branches that keep your makeshift bathroom secluded.

You really shouldn't be so pissed at him, it's not like he owes you anything. You know you're projecting your own feelings onto him and that it isn't fair, but god, him telling you to go to sleep after you'd essentially confessed your attraction to him makes your blood boil. He'd really had nothing else to say? Couldn't have come up with something a little softer, a little kinder? Let you down easy?

You grumble to yourself on the way back up the steps, questioning whether or not you should keep ignoring him or just get over it. Is it really worth an hours hike of hostility? You already know this is your last shift with him, there's no way you can come back from this in any way that will keep your dignity intact. It's over.

"You say you're not a kid but you sure do act like one," Joel says the second you re-enter the ski lodge, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's got his arms crossed, nose flaring in anger, "I'm sick and tired of the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, all that shit. What happened to people just talkin' to each other?"

You shut the door behind you and shake your head, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment Joel, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," his voice is firm but you can hear some emotion there, something deeper. He doesn't like being ignored and you know why, but it doesn't soften your resolve.

"I'm pissed at you, yeah," you admit, shrugging, "But I think I have a pretty valid reason."

"And what is it?"

You stare, scrunching up your face in confusion, "Are you serious? Jesus, Joel, I thought you were smart."

"Oh, fuck off," he grumbles, rolling his eyes again, "I ain't a mind reader."

You shake your head again, inhaling deeply, "I'm not asking you to read my mind, Joel," you exhale and try to calm yourself, feeling the angry tears begin to sting your eyes. God, you hate how emotional you get when you're angry. You hate showing weakness like this.

"Then tell me," he groans, "Is it about last night? 'Cause I thought we made a deal that we're not gonna talk about it."

You laugh at his words, cold and hard, "Right, yeah, sorry. Deal's a deal, right? My bad," you couldn't sound more sarcastic if you tried, stuffing your roll of toilet paper back in your pack and zipping it up, "Come on, let's just head back and forget about it." Your voice cracks on the last few words and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling the tears spill over.

"Are you crying?" his voice falters, and you hear a twinge of kindness in his tone, something you'd desperately wanted to hear last night.

He crosses the room before you even have a chance to reply, striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder firmly, making you turn around. His face softens immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the tears you're already trying to wipe away.

"Fuck," he says, brow furrowing in concern, "I'm sorry."

You snort involuntarily, shaking your head, "I'm just stupid."

"You're not stupid," it's almost a whisper, "I'm the stupid one, believe me," he brings his hand up like he's going to touch your face but seems to think better of it, bringing it back to your shoulder again, "I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinkin' last night, I'm sorry. You showed me that magazine and-"

You put your hand up to silence him, "I don't care about why, Joel. I don't even care that you did it, it's not like I told you to stop."

His brow furrows deeper, "Then what...?"

You close your eyes, breathing deeply before putting on your best impression of him and mumbling, "Go to sleep," like he had the night before, opening your eyes again to see if he understands.

He stares at you for a few seconds, confused, but you watch as it suddenly dawns on him, realization spreading across his features. He suddenly lets go of your shoulder and takes a few steps back, eyes falling to the floor.

"You can't... you can't think of me that way," he says it gruffly, swallowing and shaking his head.

You stand there without saying anything, waiting until he finally looks back up at you to speak. When he does, you make sure to look directly in his eyes.

"Why not?"

His hand comes up to touch the back of his neck and you swear you see patches of red begin to bloom along his collarbone, like he's embarrassed...or flattered? You take a step forward and he quickly takes another step backward.

"If it's because of the age thing... I really don't care, Joel," you say earnestly, heart beginning to beat heavily in your chest, "I think you're..." You can't believe the words are even coming out of your mouth, the tears on your face already beginning to dry as you try to process this new situation you've found yourself in, "I think you're sexy."

His brow furrows again, not in anger but in confusion. He doesn't take another step backward when you move toward him this time, staying rooted in place as you peer up at him, waiting for him to speak. He remains silent, his eyes trained directly on your face, lips set in a firm line.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

He shakes his head slowly, "I don't."

"Why?"

He doesn't reply, just keeps staring at you like he has absolutely no idea what to say. You suddenly feel the need to reassure him, comfort him. Your hand moves upward, aching to cup his face in your hand, feel that grey scruff beneath your palm.

He pulls back before you get the chance, shaking his head again, "Don't," it's barely a whisper, voice breaking as he says it, "Just...gimme a minute."

"Okay," you nod, dropping your hand, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin'," he breathes, still not breaking eye contact, "Just let me think, please."

You swallow, teeth tugging on your lip as he continues to stand there motionless. He's still looking at you but his thoughts are miles away; you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, calculating exactly what he's supposed to do in a situation like this. Part of you wants him to kiss you, part of you wants to kiss him, part of you wants to wait until he makes a decision. You settle firmly on the third option.

"I lied," he finally breaks the silence, jaw tense and firm, "I wasn't thinkin' about that fuckin' bunny ear model."

Your lips part; you hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Then...what were you thinking about?" You already know the answer before he replies.

"You," his voice is strained, broken, like he's holding himself back, "I was thinkin' about you and the stupid magazines in the supply closet."

You feel your skin flush, a tingle trailing up the back of your neck as you try not to show him how pleased you are, "W-what?"

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about you in that closet, lookin' at those pictures, getting...." he trails off and swallows, then whispers, "Wet. Gettin' all wet in your panties from that girl getting fucked."

His words send an immediate throb to your core and you can feel your heart in your throat, pounding relentlessly as he continues to speak, continues to say exactly what's been on his mind as you stand in front of him, so much smaller than him, letting his words get lost in the sudden warmth of your body and the buzz of your thoughts.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about it," he repeats, voice rough, eyes dark, "Your wet panties, your big eyes, your..." he practically chokes then, "Your pussy, all wet and aching."

"Oh my god," you whimper, crossing your legs involuntarily as you feel an immediate surge of wetness in your underwear, "Please, keep talking, please."

"Wanted to see it and touch it," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your face as he peers down at you with desire in his eyes, "Wanted to fuck it and make you come."

Without hesitation your arms shoot up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his warm chest and tugging at the collar of his coat, "I want you to," you practically moan, clawing at the material, "Joel, I need you to fuck me right now."

To your absolute dismay he reaches up and removes your arms from him, taking a step back so neither of you are touching. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and that red blush of heat now spread all over his neck and cheekbones.

"I can't," he says, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I can't."

You're about to protest, whine and beg if you have to, but his eyes fall to your groin. You watch with wide eyes as he goes for his belt, begins to unloop it and remove it.

"Take your pants off," he groans, and you don't need telling twice.

You end up masturbating together again, this time in the light of day. You find yourselves laying on the couch where he'd slept last night, the memory of what he'd done there fresh in your mind as you pump two fingers in and out of yourself steadily and watch him stroke his cock to match your pace. He watches you behind hooded eyes, his lips parted as he pants and gets himself off to your pleasure, watches you do the same thing to him.

"That's it," he murmurs, eyes scrunching in arousal as he scans your face, watches you come undone, "Rub your clit, nice and fast."

You whimper, unable to hold on for much longer as you eye his cock and see the way the fat head of it drips for you, slicking his hand and allowing him to stroke faster and faster. You want to say something to help get him off too but your words are completely lost in the sensation; you couldn't speak even if you wanted to.

He knows you're about to come, can see it in your face the way he saw it in the face of the model in the picture. He swallows heavily and fucks himself impossibly faster, harder, silently asking you to match his pace. You do it, thumbing your clit and feeling the tense coil in your belly snap as your jaw drops and you let out a long and ridiculously loud moan. Your eyes shut tight and you throw your head back, feeling your body begin to shake from the stimulation.

"There you go," he grunts, and you hear the slapping of skin stop as he rides out his own release, coming into his fist, "Fuck." Your eyes open at just the right time to see his jaw go slack, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the pleasure. It somehow makes you ache for more, even though you can't possibly imagine being any more overstimulated than you already are.

You both lay there, chests heaving, hearts pounding, completely undone. It goes without saying that you've both just managed to each have one of the best orgasms of your lives.

"New patrol rule," you whisper to him, legs still wide and cunt dripping with your release, "We do this. Every time. Please."

"Yes," he replies immediately, still catching his breath, "I can do that."

"It can't be any more than this," Joel says to you quietly as you hike down the mountain a little while later, the sunrise cresting the trees again the way it had yesterday when you'd hiked up; it's like nothing has changed, but you both know that everything has.

"Okay," you say just as softly, though part of you aches to reach for his hand, loop your pinky through his and have some degree of touch between you. But you can tell he means business, that there won't be any more discussion on the matter today.

"Just this," he whispers, glancing at you with a meaningful look, eyes soft and tender as he peers at you, knowing what he's done, what he's started.

"Just this," you agree, but you don't really believe it.

You hope, deep down, neither does he.

thank you so much for reading! there will be more in this collection coming very soon. i'd like to do some short fics of certain nights they've had, especially the first time he calls her a good girl. that was originally going to be in this part but it was just getting wayyy too long and i have so many ideas i need to flesh out more lol. i'm also going to continue where they left off in "don't think we could help it", and yes, eventually they will do the deed, i promise. among other things....

if you liked it, please let me know! and again, if you'd like to give me a tip you can do so on my kofi 💖

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: soft!dom joel

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judesmoonbeauty · 3 months ago

Text

Only Look At Me CE: Nica Schwartz

*Nica is calling Kate “robin” in German. Hence, each time he uses German, I will use quotation marks to denote that going forward in the story.

** Nica is calling Kate (robin) in English for this specific line. In other words, he is using the normal (komadori).

***The translation says "opposite" of him, but context suggests Kate is sitting next to him. That's how I interpreted it anyway.

This is a fan translation only. Not 100% accurate, so please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Dividers: @/adornedwithlight. Thank you for your support! ☾.

On my way home from submitting my report, I was stopped by an unexpected person.

Nica: Hey there, Miss.

One of the Vogel twins stood in front of me.

Kate: Is something wrong?

Nica: Actually, I got lost, would you mind showing me around?

As I nodded in surprise, his almond-shaped eyes narrowed.

Nica: Thanks.

Kate: No problem, so where are you headed?

Nica: The chambers we’re staying in, you know the way right?

Kate: Of course, it’s this way!

I pointed down the hallway and started walking, with him chuckling as he followed from behind.

Nica: Meeting you here, seems like I’ve still got it.

(I’m little wary because of what Harrison said.)

(He’s easy to talk and doesn’t seem like a bad person.)

Even though I know they’re lying somehow, I still don’t know if it’s a bad lie.

(It’s not good to judge someone before you know them.)

We arrived in no time as I walked and thought this.

Nica: Thank you for your help, “Robin.”*

Kate: “Robin”?

Nica: It means “Robin” in German.

Nica: Doesn’t Crown call you, robin?**

Nica: Hence, “robin”.

He sat down and looked at the empty seat opposite to him.***

Nica: Won’t you have a seat?

Kate: Huh?

Nica: Let’s have a chat while you’re here. I’d like to ask you about work and other things.

Despite my being nervous that we were alone, he propped his chin on his hand.

Nica: Besides, I’m interested in you.

Even though he was smiling, his eyes pierced me like someone who’d caught his prey.

As I slowly sat down, he smiled in satisfaction while calling a maid for some tea.

Nica: Well then, should I introduce myself again?

Kate: Oh, please do.

Nica: I’m Nica Schwartz, the staff officer of Vogel, an organization under the direct command of the Emperor of Germany.

Kate: What exactly does a staff officer do?

Nica: I gather information, and support Dari in various ways by using my brains.

Nica: Details are a confidential.

Nica: Oh, by the way. You can call me Nica. There’s no need to call me ‘Mister’.

Kate: Okay then, Nica.

His smile deepened as I called his name, and then he pointed at me.

Nica: Right, now it’s your turn.

Kate: I’m Kate, a Fairytale Keeper. There’s several reasons why I got this job, but I used to work as a postwoman.

Nica: Hmm, then you’re well-informed about the roadways?

Kate: That’s right! We delivered all over London, so I could even guide you.

Nica: That’s great, next time I’ll ask you to show me around the city.

His words interrupted me as I reached for my teacup.

Nica: What kinds of things do you do as a Fairytale Keeper?

Kate: My job entails accompanying Crown activities and recording what happens.

(In reality, there’s a lot more to it than that…..)

I don’t want to say anymore than that because I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk in detail.

Nica: But you’re just an ordinary person aren’t you? Isn’t it dangerous?

Kate: The Crown members have promised to protect me.

Nica: Really….

He seemed to be thinking about something while listening to me speak, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but that feeling disappeared when his expression suddenly brightened.

Nica: You’re the verrry cute “robin” of Crown.

Nica: You’re cherished.

Kate: That’s n….

(It’s true that they treat me with respect but……)

It all started only because I witnessed them conquering evil with evil,

(I desperately didn’t want to die, which led me to where I am now.)

If I hadn’t said anything then, I might not be in this world now.

Nica: Dari probably wouldn’t like it, but it might be fun if Vogel had a Fairytale Keeper back home.

Nica: Oh, but Ring wouldn’t do well.

Kate: Wouldn’t do well?

Nica: Ring’s my twin brother, but unlike me, he’s doesn’t socialize with others too well.

(It’s true, the first time we met, he gave off a cold impression….)

While I was thinking of our first encounter, Nica looked into my face.

Nica: What, are you curious about Ring?

Kate: No, that’s not it…..

Nica: My - that’s. Don’t do that.

He put his finger to my lips, and he smiled with extreme charm.

Then we talked about trivial everyday life, and before I knew it, the sky had turned deep red.

(It’s already that time….)

When he looked at the clock, his eyes widened in exaggeration.

Nica: Wow, it’s already this late. I guess it’s time to part ways.

Kate: Well, it’s was nice chatting with you.

Nica: Same here, let’s do it again.

I stood up, thanked him for opening the door, and was about to leave the room.

Kate: What?

He grabs a lock of my hair and places his lips upon its tips.

Nica: Until next time.

Even when my lips parted I was speechless.

Nica: Oh, did you forget your way home?

Or do you want to stay locked up with me and not go home?

His inciting tone made me realize that I had been taken lightly.

(For Nica, this conversation was a wait-and-see thing, and if he got serious -)

-Then he could easily steal my heart.

Kate: Please, excuse me.

With my cheeks suddenly becoming hot, I started to run not caring if there were other people around.

Nica: Bis Dann (Later), “Robin”.

Before my heart is stolen by him.

As I lay on the sofa, my younger brother entered with a gaunt face.

Nica: What is it, did you get lost again?

Ring: Yeah….it’s so large that I couldn’t tell where I was.

Ring sat on a chair and sighed.

Ring: I wish I could memorize the layouts of buildings as quickly as you do Nica……

I laugh at his words.

Nica: It’s possible to get lost on “purpose.”

Tag List: @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @sh0jun @letter-from-afar

Dividers: @/natimiles [Master List]

Can't wait to tear this MF up /aff. GIMME!

#nica schwartz #ikevil nica #ikevil translations #ikemen translations #cybird translations #nica schwartz translations

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the-kr8tor · 10 months ago

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Carnival date with Hobie! Going on the arcades (that are definitely rigged) enjoying cotton candy together and the Ferraris wheel!

- 💗

Thank you for the lovely prompt, angel! 😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller though), cw food mentions, Fluff

ʕ��·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You take a giant bite of your cotton candy, the sugar bursts into your mouth like fireworks. The bright neon lights make your eyes shine, all the beeps and boops from arcade machines are reminiscent of the time when you were younger. It's cold out, an evening breeze passes by, fluttering your lashes in the wind. It's freezing but Hobie's arm around your shoulders warms you through your bones.

“Don't eat it all, give me some.” His breath fans your cheeks, it tickles you a bit. “Oi, stop gettin’ distracted. Ahhh” he opens his mouth for you, waiting for you to feed him like a baby chick.

“Get those pinchers out of my face.” You giggle, quickly feeding a dollop of the sweet treat before he chomps down on your fingers. You've learned your lesson.

“Thanks.” He says through a mouthful. You wipe the corner of his lips clean of candy. He sticks his tongue out to the side with the intention to lick your finger.

“Nope, too slow!” you quickly move your hand away to his dismay.

“I will bite your hand off, you'll see.” Hobie says with a smirk.

“Uh huh, sure. If you can catch me”

“You better start running then”

Before you could sprint through the crowd, Hobie's arms are already around your middle, lifting you a few inches off the ground effortlessly. You giggle, trying to not get a lot of attention from the public.

You blame the candy for making Hobie more hyper than he already is.

“Give me your fuckin' hand” he cranes his neck down to try and catch your it, you cross your arms on your chest, tucking your hands inside.

“Nu uh!” Hobie squeezes you, continuing to walk like he's not carrying you. “So you're just gonna manhandle me the entire night?”

“No, I'll throw you in one of those duck ponds.” He laughs loudly as you wiggle your elbow right on his abdomen. You didn't know he's ticklish there, you are definitely gonna use that information in the future.

Your eyes light up, looking at the gigantic patchwork teddy bear hanging on to one of the arcade booths. “Look at that one!”

“D’you want that? I'll get that for you, yeah?”

“No, it's fine, it's probably rigged anyway.”

He nuzzles your neck, “I'll bet you a kiss that I can win that ugly bear”

“Deal.” You kick your legs out to try to walk on your own but he doesn't let go so you let him carry you the entire way to the booth, laying your entire weight on him.

He stops in front of the milk bottle tossing booth, an old man with large glasses mans the it, he picks up fallen balls, placing them neatly inside a small bucket.

“How much, bossman?” Hobie asks, his arms still carrying you.

“Five pounds per bucket. Looks like you've won a much better prize though” he chuckles.

“Yeah, ‘m lookin' for a replacement though” he points at the bear with his chin. His comment doesn't fly over you though, you huff, kneading his stomach with your elbow. Hobie yelps, letting you go. “See that, bossman? Need that bear more than ever.”

You make a mocking face, Hobie suddenly has an intense urge to pinch your nose. But he doesn't, maybe he'll do it once you two get home.

He hands the old man the bills in exchange for the bucket.

“You've got four tries to bring the three pyramids down. You do that and you get the bear.” The old man explains.

“That easy?” Hobie says smugly.

The man chuckles, the same smug smile on his lips. “That easy. Good luck.”

Hobie turns to you as he's weighing the baseball in his hand. “Kiss for good luck?”

“I thought that was for after winning my prize?” despite you declining, you lean to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good luck and don't overdo it or you might give the man a heart attack.” You whisper close to his ear.

“And here I was preparing my arm to rocket this ball out of here” he chases your face, capturing your forehead in a quick but tender kiss.

You poke his side, smiling as he takes aim. His arm extended like he's a professional, his muscles tensing through his shirt. You'd be lying if you said you weren't ogling him. Before Hobie throws the ball, he winks at you all suave, waking the butterflies in your stomach.

Clang!

The first pyramid bottle falls loudly. Hobie looks at you with a mischievous smirk, wordlessly saying. ‘I've got this’

He takes another ball, preparing to launch it. As you predicted, he turns his head towards you again but you're prepared this time, winking at him sweetly before he could do it.

He almost misses the bottles.

You tamp down your laugh when he looks back at you with a ‘how dare you’ face. You look at him innocently, fluttering your lashes.

After all that though, one after the other the bottles fall easily, the old man shifts uncomfortably, scratching his head. He surrenders, handing Hobie the bear.

“Told you I'll win it for you” the bear gets squished in the middle as Hobie tries his best to embrace you with the fluffy wall in between.

“I knew you had it,” you lean up so he could claim his prize. “You have super strength, cheater.” you say against his lips, he could only get a fraction of a second of your lips before you pulled away. He blinks, shaking his head.

“Thought we had a deal?”

“Claim it in the ferris wheel?”

“You cheeky fucker”

—

After lining up for the ride and numerous bites of a shared funnel cake, you and Hobie hop on to the pod, the capsule shakes as he pushes in the bear to fit inside. The worker manning the ride sighs exasperatedly.

Hobie sits it across from you, scooching to make way for him, he sighs, all tired out from the labour.

The worker closes the door, the ferris wheel starts up, slowly moving your pod up.

“Your bear is on thin ice” He glares at the toy, the fluffy head tilting comedically. You laugh while Hobie casually snakes his arm around your shoulders, bringing you Impossibly closer to the already small space.

You don't mind it though, laying your head on his shoulder, reaching blindly for his hand, he half hugs you, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“You good?” his voice muffled by your skin.

“Better than good. Happy” you inhale his cologne, relaxing your muscles. You swear you're melting on the spot. “You?”

“You already know the answer, lovie” he cranes his neck closer to you, ignoring the ache in his nape. Hobie then presses a handful of kisses on your temple, each one sweeter than the last. He holds off with his joke about pushing the bear off the ride.

The ferris wheel halts to a stop when your pod reaches the top, you cling tighter to Hobie. The view takes your breath away, the shining lights below look like stars, the skyline looms on your right, just seeing it makes you crave web swinging with Hobie. Maybe you'll ask him about it later.

The ride starts back up again with a sudden lunge, a mechanical whirring in the background. You yelp, Hobie grips your shoulder, circling his thumb over your skin comfortably.

“I've got you.” He reassures.

“I know you do” You squeeze him, moving his face downward by his chin, guiding him closer to your lips.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown #the kr8tor's creations #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x fem!reader #spider punk x you #cw food mention #hobie fluff #fanfic #hobie x reader #💗 anon

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armystrong980 · 2 months ago

Text

Help Him

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mild Cursing

Word Count: 9,234 😬

A/N: This is my first Bucky Barnes fanfic. Please go easy on me! I would love to know how all of you liked the story. Enjoy, and thank you for reading!

Steve called me to the conference room of the Avengers Compound. He called sounding pretty serious and asked to see him immediately. With no hesitation I made my way over. At first glance I watched him pace up and down the room with his head down and his hands on his hips. "Shit, this can't be good." Steve caught a glance at me. He seems lost in his head but he motioned me to come in anyways.

"Thank you for coming so quickly." He paused, "There's something you need to know before I start." Steve hands me a folder with a worried look on his face. "This mission is going to be very dangerous. I need my best Avenger and all I could do was come to you." He sighs.

I take the folder from him confidently. "Thank you for reaching out to me. You could've chosen Nat or Wanda." "I don't want to make it sound like you have to do this but I know I can always count on you. That's why I called." It's true. I had saved Cap's ass more times than I should've.

As I open the mission folder with a shaky breath, it revealed a man in cryo with a HYDRA symbol next to it. You read the name out loud, "James Buchanan Barnes?"

He nods as he looks me in the eyes. "I need to save him." I've heard this name before but couldn't quite put a finger on it. "May I ask who he is?" Steve crosses his arms loosely and looks down slightly biting his inner cheek. "He's my best friend, family, I thought he was dead all these years."

I look at the information on the file that shows James' birthday. March 10, 1917. It made me think. "Smithsonian." I blurted out. He looks up at me with a knowing look in his eyes. "I seen you and him together in pictures at the Smithsonian. All this time he was under HYDRA's control?" Steve nods uncrossing his arms.

I had become best friends with Steve ever since he had gotten out of the ice. I would do anything for him. "I'll help you." It was as if weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "Are you sure?" "Steve I'm positive. Let's go bring your friend home." All he could do in that moment was hug me. I hugged him back and heard him whisper in my ear thank you.

Steve’s shoulders seemed to drop a little as he released the embrace. He took a deep breath, clearly relieved, and looked at me with renewed determination. "I can't tell you how much this means to me. I know this isn't going to be easy, but I trust you completely."

I nodded, flipping through the rest of the folder. The file contained blueprints of the facility where James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky, was being held, along with security details and a rough schedule of guard rotations. It looked like a high-security compound, which meant we’d need a solid plan to get in and out without drawing too much attention.

"Have you got a specific plan or are we coming up with something on the fly?" I asked, trying to gauge how much preparation Steve had already done.

"I’ve got a few ideas," Steve said, his tone shifting to a more tactical one. "But I was hoping we could brainstorm together. We’ll need to be quick and efficient—any misstep could jeopardize the mission."

We spent the next few hours going over the details, mapping out the security measures, and figuring out the best approach. We decided to use a combination of stealth and quick strikes to neutralize the guards and avoid detection. Steve would take point, and I’d cover our rear and handle any unexpected complications.

As we wrapped up the planning, Steve gave me a serious look. "We’re not just rescuing a friend here. Bucky’s been through a lot. He’s probably been brainwashed and tortured. We’ll need to be prepared for anything."

"Understood," I said, my resolve firm. "We’ll get him out of there. We just need to stick to the plan and stay focused."

Steve clapped me on the shoulder, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips. "I knew I could count on you."

With our plan set, we gathered our gear and prepared to head out. As we left the conference room, I couldn’t help but think about the gravity of the mission ahead. This wasn’t just about rescuing someone; it was about saving a part of Steve’s past and, hopefully, helping a friend reclaim his future.

We set off towards the compound, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The stakes were high, but with Steve by my side and the mission clear in our minds, I knew we had a fighting chance.

The operation went off almost flawlessly. With Steve’s meticulous planning and our teamwork, we managed to infiltrate the compound, disable the security systems, and reach Bucky’s cryo-chamber without incident. As we approached the chamber, I could see Steve’s anxiety transform into a mix of hope and determination.

Bucky was unconscious, strapped inside the chamber. His face was a haunting reminder of the time lost and the struggles endured. Steve’s hands shook slightly as he worked to deactivate the cryo-system. The chamber hissed open, and Bucky’s breathing seemed to steady, though he remained unresponsive.

“Is he going to be okay?” I asked, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve glanced at me, his face etched with concern. “He will be. He has to be.”

With the cryo-chamber open, we carefully lifted Bucky out and placed him on a stretcher. Steve’s eyes never left his friend, a mixture of relief and worry playing across his features. We transported Bucky back to the Avengers Compound, where medical personnel were on standby.

The next few days were a blur of medical assessments and treatments. Bucky was slowly waking from his long period of cryo-sleep, but the process of reorienting him to reality was fraught with challenges. He was disoriented, struggling to piece together his fragmented memories.

During this time, I found myself spending more and more time with him. I was assigned to monitor his recovery, help him adjust, and provide emotional support. As I sat by his bedside, talking to him, I saw glimpses of the person he once was—charming, kind, and fiercely loyal.

One evening, after Bucky had shown some signs of recognition and began to engage in conversation, he looked at me with a curious expression. “You were there at the compound. I remember you… but I’m having trouble placing you.”

I offered him a reassuring smile. “I’m Y/N. I helped rescue you and bring you home. Steve’s been really worried about you.”

Bucky’s gaze softened. “Steve... I remember him. We’ve been through a lot together. I owe him everything.”

“And you owe me nothing,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m just glad we could help.”

As Bucky continued to regain his strength and clarity, our interactions became more frequent. We shared stories, laughed over old memories, and supported each other through the tough moments. Bucky’s sense of humor and resilience were contagious, and I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

One evening, as the sun set and cast a warm glow over the compound, Bucky and I took a walk through the garden. The tranquility of the space was a stark contrast to the intensity of our recent experiences.

“You’ve been incredibly patient with me,” Bucky said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” I replied, glancing at him with a shy smile. “It’s been my pleasure to help you, and to get to know you better.”

Bucky’s eyes met mine, and there was a moment of unspoken understanding between us. The bond we’d developed was more than just friendship—it was something deeper and more profound.

In the days that followed, as Bucky continued to heal and adjust to his new reality, our relationship grew stronger. We spent time together away from the compound, exploring the city and enjoying each other’s company. It was clear that our connection was more than just a fleeting attraction; it was something that resonated deeply within both of us.

One night, under the stars, Bucky took my hand in his and looked at me with a mix of vulnerability and affection. “I never thought I’d find someone who could understand me like you do. You’ve been my anchor in all of this chaos.”

I squeezed his hand, feeling a rush of emotions. “And you’ve been mine. I’ve never felt this way before, but I know that what we have is real.”

Bucky leaned in, his gaze lingering on my lips before closing the distance between us. The kiss was tender and filled with a deep sense of connection. It was as if all the pain and uncertainty of the past had melted away, leaving only the pure, unspoken promise of a shared future.

As we pulled away, Bucky’s eyes were filled with warmth and hope. “I want to build a new future, with you. Whatever it takes.”

I smiled, my heart full. “I want that too.”

From that moment on, Bucky and I began to forge a new path together. We faced the challenges of his recovery and the complexities of our evolving relationship with courage and optimism. Through it all, our love grew stronger, transforming from a bond forged in the fires of adversity into a lasting partnership filled with hope and possibility.

And so, with the Avengers Compound as our backdrop, we embraced the journey ahead—one where we were no longer just allies but partners in every sense of the word, ready to face the future together.

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Barnes #Bucky Barnes x Reader #James Buchanan Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #James Buchanan Barnes x Y/N #Avengers #Avengers x Reader

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skulls-soul · 9 months ago

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Are there any fanfics in were Bowser signs a peace treaty because he wanted to date Luigi…

Like imagine Bowser is trying to get Mario’s blessing to date his brother because Kamek told him to (do it right this time you’re impatientNess)

Mario, of course says “ over my dead-a body. Will I allow-a you to date my brother”

It was only once he was talking to peach (he took Luigi and himself to the castle for Luigi’s protection that, and he was worried that the princess was gonna get kidnapped again) when she gave him the idea to give him trials and so throughout the entire afternoon Luigi just sat there, watching Mario and peach and daisy who they called up specifically for this conversation on what kind of things Bowser can do to prove himself

Although, at some point, Daisy mentioned about when exactly did Bowser get feelings for luigi, which intern cause everyone to turn to Luigi to see if he had any answers

Luigi begrudgingly admitted that him and Bowser would strike up in conversation during sporting events, party games and racing competitions, growing into being a bit of a “situation ship” ( say thanks to @silly-inky for the “Situationship” they mentioned it in a post of theirs, and I loved it too much, that I couldn’t not implicate it into something of mine)

Anyways flabbergasted, they started questioning Luigi on why he would strike up a conversation with the king Koopa. only for luigi to respond with “ you want me to ignore the koopa King or something? I don’t have a Deathwish!”

They were shocked to hear that Bowser of all people would start up a conversation with one of the Mario brothers, although, in hindsight, it is just as equally as impossible for Luigi to start a conversation, if not more. Not letting the conversation go they poke around for more information

Luigi, without getting too into detail, tells them that it started off with a simple question. Bowser had asked him what he was doing in the sidelines instead of with the others in which Luigi responded with how he wasn’t as popular as the others, and would only be in the way

Mario and princesses didn’t appreciate this “fact” and was quick to tell him

Peach: you could never be in the way!

Mario: you have fans!

Daisy: yeah, me!

Luigi simply just shook his head in which the others were ready to tell him off once more if it wasn’t for the fact that Luigi spoke, saying how Bowser said something similar

Luigi: “ he said how he couldn’t believe someone who fought him was anything but popular”

once again, the other three humans are caught off guard by Luigi’s words, or more specifically this time by Bowser’s. each of them having the same thought about how oddly kind that was of him

Luigi decides to forego mentioning about how his face immediately went hot with flustered embarrassment at Bowser’s words and instead mentioned that he intern, asked Bowser why he wasn’t with a Koopalings. After all his mama raised him right, if someone strikes up (somewhat) polite conversation with you then you should recuperate if possible

Mario nods in response to that, the Brother ‘s were nice to the fault for a reason although it seems Luigis kindness surpasses Mario’s by a hair

Luigi: “ so after that, we just kind of started talking more and more sense we seemed to be on the sideline together a lot”

Luigi refuses to give more details, they don’t need to know about the copious amounts of time that the reptilian caused him to blush

Or about all of the flirty comments and what if scenarios that would slip into their conversation

Anyways, (I got a bit side tract sorry) by the end of the conversation that Bowser should sign a peace treaty with a Mushroom, Kingdom and Sahara desert that would lead Bowser in to doing charity work

Princess, peach and daisy were hoping for a an alliance(tho hopes were low) while Mario was hoping for Bowser to stick with his pride for once, since the Koopa king would never!!! Do charity work

luigi on the other hand was sweating profusely as he hoped that Bowser would pass this trial that will allow them to be happy and open together

Soon they will see who gets there wishes

#luigi #luigi nintendo #bowuigi #bowser #bowigi #bowser x luigi #bowser and luigi #luigi x bowser #bowser nintendo #king koopa #luigi/bowser #bowser/luigi #writing prompt #carried away again while writing this…#whoops?

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s0urw00lf · 4 months ago

Text

Trouble

Request: Hi, I was wondering since you write for the marauders if you could write a fic (even just a short one) where Y/n is a professor at hogwarts and was kinda familiar with the marauders while at school.

So when Remus accept the job they get close and they kinda have to sneak around because it's not professional to date a colleague.

Pairing: Remus lupin x reader

Summary: Y/n had always taken a special interest into the marauders, specifically the tall lanky book nerd they she competed with from top of the class in school. Now over 10 years later they finally became more than just friendly rivals, but in secret.

Warnings: fluff, sneakin around, and overly nosy snape.

AN: the day I write a short fic will be the day I run out of imagination. Because for some reason I have to give backstory, build up, and THEN I get to the point, also i write on my computer so it looks like a lot less than what I’m actually writing. (Update: I didn’t write a lot for this because I’m tired and wanted to get it done) Anyway thank you for the submission and I hope you enjoy.

Something about him had always intrigued you. Maybe it was how smart he was, his beautiful brown doe eyes, or the way he always seemed to be the most rational thinker of all his friends.

You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to. All you knew was that you liked him. A lot. In school you two were friendly rivals competing for the best grades but nothing more than that. You wished it were though, and you were going to ask him out but the war against the dark lord escalated so quickly one moment you were students running around Hogwarts trying to make it to class on time and the next you were trying to avoid any sudden deaths.

After that, you completely lost contact with him. To be honest you forgot all about him until you were informed by Minerva that he’d be taking up the position of the new DADA teacher. “Wait you said Remus lupin?” You tried as hard as you could to keep your expression neutral, and you did as far as you knew. “Yes y/n Remus Lupin will be the new defense against the dark arts teacher” she replied eyeing you through her glasses with the faintest smirk ever, before excusing herself.

“Still pining mindlessly over him after all this time. Figures.” Severus quipped in his usual monotone voice after McGonnogal walked away. “You’re one to talk” you replied eyeing him with a glare and walking away. When you got back to your classroom you let out the girliest squeal you could. You may or may not have ever gotten over your small crush on the boy man.

𐂂𓅓𓆗⚯❾¾ ▕⃝⃤

About a month later school had started back and the hustle and bustle of the school had returned. Even though it had been a week into school, you still had yet to run into Remus, much to your dismay. Until one night you were carrying a load of textbooks you borrowed from Professor Flitwick back to your classroom and kept dropping them. Eventually, you gave up and just plopped down to the floor contemplating how you were gonna get these textbooks to your classroom without your wand. “You know you could always ask for help” a smooth voice spoke from behind you, causing you to jump, and turn around. “Godric Remus a little warning next time would be nice, jeez,” you said placing a hand to your chest feeling your heart racing out of control. “My apologies i forgot how easy it is to sneak around these halls” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh and turned back to the books, “I would’ve but I didn’t want to disturb anyone” you said standing up, and putting your hands on your hips. He bent down to pick up a little over half of the books “Well lucky you, I’m here undisturbed and happy to help” he teased. You rolled your eyes with a small smile, he still had his boyish charm from when you were kids. You picked up the remaining books off of the floor, “well since you’re so eager, follow me” you teased, leading him back to your classroom.

As time went on you and Remus became closer and closer, maybe closer than you should’ve been. The kids noticed it, how you’d always sat beside each other in the great hall, or when you’d have conjoined lessons. But one thing you didn’t expect was when Snape started popping in out of the blue. Remus sat at his desk grading papers with one hand on your thigh as you sat on his desk reading a book, The only noise filling the room was the sound of his quill scribbling on the papers. That was until the door to the classroom opened and Snape swiftly walked through. Remus discreetly removed his hand from your thigh “You know a knock would be nice” you stated with irritation. He stopped at the desk “Knocking would indicate you’re doing something you wouldn’t want anyone to see” he sneered, placing a bottle of potion on the desk for Remus “It's called common courtesy, mama ever teach you about it?” You said sliding off of the table to face him fully. The scowl on his face made you want to give the most satisfied smirk but you decided against it. He then turned to Remus “Make sure you drink it before the end of the week I'll have you another by the time the full moon comes around”

Remus thanked him, and he made his exit. You groaned “he’s like the annoying cousin who’s always trying to get you in trouble” you whined. Remus grabbed your hips bringing you closer “Has he been like that all these years?” He asked looking up at you. You ran your hands through his hair softly scratching his scalp, “you have to ask? He’s been like that since we were kids” you snorted. Remus chuckled leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He looked like he was being touched by an angel. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Pulling away slightly “Even if he did find out, he’d never tell. He knows better” and returned to the kiss until he pulled away “I don’t want his face in my head while I’m kissing you love,” he said. you winced “Fair point, no more Snape. Just us,” you said moving to sit on his lap so you would have to keep leaning over to kiss him.

#submission #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin my beloved #remus lupin x self insert #andrew garfield x reader #harry potter #mauraders #s0urw00lf #james potter #sirius black #regulus black #mattheo riddle #theo nott

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ranhaitanisgf · 10 months ago

Note

AAA CONGRATS ON GETTING 2K FOLLOWERS!! 😭🥰 and thank you for the event! it looks fun :0 can i request rindou haitani + enemies/rivals to lovers + stuck together or 7 mins in heaven please? i cant choose between the moments so i’ll leave that one up to you if that’s okay :0 headcanons please! i don’t have anything specific that i wanna add for this request, so i hope this gives you more wiggle room to write how you want it to go ☺️ thank you and congrats again!! ❤️

—rindou haitani // enemies to lovers // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ little rindou moment . i do not have much to add on to this, so enjoy !! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.0k+

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

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“just so you know, this is entirely your fault.”

“my fault?! how the hell is an elevator shutting down, my fault?! do you think i spoke to god for a second and said, ‘hey, can you make this elevator stop working right now?’” you argued, sarcasm thick in your voice as you spoke. rindou shrugged nonchalantly, a look of boredom in his eyes.

“who knows? maybe you’re one of those kinds of people.”

“i am not, for your information! if anything, this is your fault! if you can recall with your idiotically small brain, you’ll remember that you’re the one who asked for a favor! from me! on a weekend! i should be financially compensated for this!” you exclaimed, pointing a finger in accusation at the boy sitting next to you. “i should still be sleeping right now!! it’s 5 in the damn morning! what was this favor you needed, anyways?!”

“jeez, you’re so loud.” was all rindou responded with, making you even more frustrated with him. you decided not to respond though, just letting out an angry sigh as the two of you waited for the maintenance people to get you out of the elevator.

the silence hanging over the two of you in the elevator wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. honestly though, you didn’t really care about whatever rindou wanted, you were just pissed that he was somehow trying to pin this situation on you.

what have you ever done to him?! literally nothing. you even had the decency to come all the way over to roppongi at 5am to see what he needed help with, even though he always acts like you’re just an annoying thorn in his side. you get that he’s emotionally stunted, but seriously, what was up with him?

a knock from outside the elevator door brought you out of your thoughts, instead bringing hope that you would finally be out of this elevator soon.

“hello! we are the maintenance crew for this building, and we will get you out shortly! sorry for the inconvenience!”

“don’t worry about it; thank you!” you called back, relieved. you stood up from your spot on the floor, stretching a bit since you had been sitting for a while. “ugh, thank god! i’m so hungry, i could eat a three-course meal right or somethin’...” rindou continued sitting on the floor, the same stoic expression on his face as the two of you waited for the elevator to open up. he was a bit more quiet than usual, but you wrote it off as him also being tired, (who wouldn’t be tired at this early time?).

“oh yeah, but seriously, what’s the favor you need? if it’s gonna take long, i wanna get breakfast first.” you asked, a bit more curious as to what favor he was going to be asking of you.

“you’ll see when we get there.”

“man, stingy…you can’t even tell me how long it’s gonna take?”

“no.” you frowned at his answer but decided to let it go for now.

after a few minutes, you sat back down, wondering how long it was going to take to open the elevator. you wanted to ask the people outside, but you didn’t want them to feel like you were rushing them, so you just sat and waited, feeling a bit awkward with rindou.

looking at him from the side, you couldn’t deny that he was beautiful. he would probably kill you if he ever heard you say that about him, but in your mind, it was true. it was the first word that came to mind whenever you saw him, no matter how much of an ass he was being in the moment. his tanned skin suited him well, providing a contrast from his blonde and baby blue hair, which always seemed to frame his face damn near perfectly. how was that even possible? there hadn’t ever been a time when you’d seen him look bad, which sometimes made you wonder if he was from another world.

“you done?” rindou asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“hm? what?”

“you’re staring at me; it’s creepy.” you scoffed at his words, immediately remembering his personality.

“yeah, my mistake. you would be prettier if you weren’t such an ass, y’know.” you cringed a moment after you spoke, realizing that your words probably just gave him a major ego boost.

however, when your gaze cautiously found him again, all you could see was his flushed cheeks and that he was looking away.

huh? no way…

you reached your hand out, poking his cheek.

“hey, what’s wrong? look over here.” he continued ignoring you, which made you just want to mess with him even more. “hey. hey. yoohoo.” with each word, you poked his cheek, finding amusement in the growing annoyance in rindou’s face.

when you went to poke him again, his arm suddenly shot up, hand grabbing your wrist right before your finger was going to poke his cheek.

“stop.”

“hmm…?” you could hear the threatening tone of his voice, but all you could see were his red ears. “if i didn’t know any better, i would almost say that you’re maybe…oh, i don’t know, embarrassed? flustered?” at your words, he let go of your wrist instantly.

“whatever…” rindou muttered, turning his head even farther away from you.

you paused for a moment, wondering if you’d gone too far with the teasing. there was no way, right? ran definitely poked and prodded at his younger brother more than you did, so why was he acting like this?

well, you suppose that you can make it your problem.

you leaned your head to the side, resting it on his shoulder as you let out a sigh. you held back a smile as you felt rindou suddenly tense up, his head finally turning back towards your direction, (you found it impressive that he had managed to sulk for as long as he did).

“you’re so emotionally stunted.”

“shut the hell up.”

(the ‘favor’ was having breakfast on the rooftop, but you didn’t end up getting out of the elevator until noon).

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padfootdaredmetoo · 1 year ago

Note

Hi so I have a kind of specific request but it doesn’t matter at all what you do with this information could I request a Thomas Shelby and reader fic where the reader only has one eye after some form of circumstance (it can be completely up to you if you want to list it) and after that they are rendered emotionless and have no care for what happens to themselves or others and towards the end they show some form of emotion (example would be a small smile or Wrinkle of the eye to show a form of gratitude etc) this was out of the blue and I thought it sounded cool so I thought I’d request (I’ve never requested something in my life from here)

Dear Anon,

I loved this request. I changed a couple things up a bit and hope that's alright. I'm always struggling to find gifs for fics and thought I would try out making little pictures for it.... not sure how I feel about it yet. Anyway thank you for waiting so long, hope you enjoy it!

Warning: reader got injured as a child and has lasting damage from it

Tommy was never sure what to think of you, he wondered if that’s how people felt about him. You had an elegant voice, the kind that made him think without a doubt that you could sing. It was soft and feminine, none of which reached your features. You were very pretty but completely unemotional. There was a large scar over your eye, but you didn’t cover it. The pink glass orb replacing your right eye was sparkly, part of him thought you enjoyed how unsettled it made people. But that would imply you enjoy things at all.

He could set you on a task and you would always come back in a timely fashion giving him a nod then going back to your desk at the betting shop. You stayed out of trouble, kept out of family drama, so much so that it made him feel the need to keep a closer watch on you.

All day you were professional, speaking the bare minimum. You drank black coffee but only once it was cold and took small sips. You would give John a swift shake of the head when he offered you a glass of whiskey.

He could tell you gave John the creeps, John would talk for hours if you let him, and you would barely give answers to his questions.

“I don’t know how you trust her.” John had whispered to him before running out the door. He wondered this himself.

“Where bout’s do you live, love?” Tommy asked coming over to stand in front of her desk.

“A few blocks away.” You said softly, he hated how badly he wanted to hear you continue.

“Want me to walk you home.” For her protection, he told himself. With the days getting shorter he should make sure someone walks her home.

“No thank you, Mr. Shelby.” You said politely.

“Call me Tommy.” He said wanting things to become more casual between the two of you.

“Tommy,” She said his name in a way that made his heart lurch. He knew he was in trouble. Your green eye looked at him with a cold stare. Surly he could make you feel something if you gave him the chance.

“Well, help me carry something to the pub then? That on the way to yours?”

“That would not be a problem.” You gave him a nod before he went into the back room trying to think of something to carry to the pub. He tossed some bottles into an old crate. Coming back into the main room he watched you pull your jacket on.

He Put the crate down on the desk and pulled out his wallet. He handed it to you and picked up the crate of empty bottles. Your expression was the usual stony mask not even a hint of confusion.

“Ready?” You gave a nod then followed him out.

“I’ve never had someone want to walk be home this badly before.” Her voice had him feeling tangled up inside.

“It’s dark.” He said dismissively.

“As it is every night.” She said softly. She wasn't going to let him win, he couldn't think of anything to say as he felt your eye on him again.

You followed him to the pub and he left the crate at the doorstep. You stared at him for a long moment and he swore he saw a slight twinkle in your eye.

You turned on your heel, moving into the dark alley way. You lifted your arm up showing you still had his wallet.

Tommy didnt need more of an invitation.

____________________________________

Tommy walked you home every night, and every night you left him on the doorstep. You avoided gatherings at the Garrison, so that was his only real time with you. A part of him felt that he should be asking you questions, try to figure you out. But the desire to be silent with someone was greater than his curiosity.

This routine continued as the nights got colder and he wondered if you enjoyed it at all.

The shop was closing up and he was making his last phone call. You were organizing the papers on your desk. The door opened to the shop and Charlie ran through. Tommy’s stomach clenched wanting to know why he wasn't home with Polly. He assumed the boy would come right to him and continued his phone call while keeping an eye out.

He went to you and he felt a sense of discomfort. Charlie wouldn't understand that you were closed off, he was only four. He came around the side of your desk and peered up at you.

_______________________________________________

You were almost done you work when the door opened and shut, you paid it no attention as it probably didn’t concern you. You were about to open the bottom drawer of your desk when you saw a little boy peering around the edge of your desk. He was quiet and observant. You wondered what had messed him up to make him that way. Ah, yes this was Grace’s son, that explained it.

“Are you a pirate?” He whispered, his eyes focused on the pink glass eye.

“No, but I was taken by pirates when I was young.” You tapped your eye, feeling a flicker of enjoyment as the boys eyes got wide.

“What happened!” He was so eager, and you remembered being that way as a child. You opened your top drawer and pulled out some candy you kept in there.

You slid a piece across the table and the boy smiled. You felt Tommy come out of his office.

“Maybe your dad will let me come over sometime for a bedtime story, I can tell you all about it.” You ruffled the boy's hair, knowing your words were more for Tommy than him.

You gave the boy a smile, it took a bit of concentration but the boy took in a breath. You thought maybe it didn’t look right and that maybe you frightened him.

“The pirates took you because you're so pretty.” The boy's eyes were wide. You let out a small laugh and winced with the familiar pain that followed.

“Feel like a sleepover?” Tommy asked picking Charlie up. Typical Tommy, willing to use his kid as a bargaining chip. The boy clung on to his father but moved so he could keep looking at you.

“No bottles for the pub tonight?” You were being cheeky, but he wouldn't understand that.

“Nah, we can deal with it tomorrow.”

You gave him a slight nod and followed the boys out of the betting shop. Polly was there talking to a lady in a house coat. You assumed they must have been neighbors at one point. She greeted Tommy with a smile but looked slightly startled to see you there.

“Thanks Pol.” He said and she gave a warm smile to you.

“You have a good night.” You gave her a nod then she continued her conversation with the woman. Tommy carried Charlie back to his car and he opened the passenger side for you. You got in, pulling your long skirt in after you.

“Can I sit on your lap?” Tommy was closing the door and you held out a hand to the boy. He got settled on your lap and rubbed his cheek on the fur collar of your jacket.

“So soft.” He murmured. You held on to the boy enjoying the embrace. Thankfully the boy was very still and easy to sit with. The drive was about a half hour and you realized Tommy added about 20 minutes to every night just to walk with you in silence.

____________________________________________

You let the maid take your jacket and didn't miss the way Tommy’s eyes looked over your figure. You felt a twinge of anxiety, how badly you would like to be touched in a way that wouldn't hurt you.

Charlie was rattling on about something and grabbed your hand leading you up to his bedroom. He showed you his various stuffed animals. Tommy took him into the bathroom to get him washed and dressed.

“Promise you’ll wait!” He called out of the little attached bathroom

“Promise.” You called back, you sat on his bed, and took in the space. He had a lot of books and soft toys. A knot in your throat formed as you felt the little girl in you scream in envy. You assumed Tommy had the same type of kid somewhere deep inside of him. His boy was kind and polite, observant and smart, and never had to worry about things. He had clean clothes, a nice room, books to learn from, and a dad who came home every night.

He might have been smoking and drinking, murdering after breakfast, whores for lunch. But you knew that unless he was away for business, Tommy came home to his kid. It was a work ethic you had a great deal of respect for.

The boy ran out of the bathroom in a soft pin-striped pj set and took a leap up onto the bed landing next to you.

“Now tell me about the Pirates.” He said with hungry eyes.

“Well, it all started when I was small.” You told him a wild story. About being left behind by your family, how the forest took you in as one of its own, growing up with magic. One day you were dancing along the cliffs, spinning in the wind and singing, when a pirate captain snatched you right off the rocks. How he had carved out your eye in hopes of gaining the ability to see the magic in the forest. It didn't work and eventually, the mermaids crashed his ship, leaving you stranded in the water. You floated along until his dad pulled you out of the cut.

“How did you survive in the water that long!” He whispered in awe.

“My magic’s not in my lost eye, it's right here.” You pointed at your heart, wishing people could see more of it.

“Can you get a blue eye so we can match?” He asked and you could feel Tommy’s discomfort.

“I suppose I could try and ask the fairies to make me a new one.”

“Time for bed Charlie,” Tommy said softly.

“Will you come back again to visit?” Charlie said grabbing your arm as you tried to stand up from his bed.

“That sounds like a nice idea.” You tried to smile again and it ended up as more of a wince. He didnt seem to notice.

_______________________

You followed Tommy down the stairs, amazed he hadn't just taken you down the hall to his bedroom. Maybe you upset him, thinking about it you were a little bit gruesome with the details and Charlie was really small.

You kept following him surprised when you moved away from the front door, he walked towards the other end of the house and then pushed open a heavy door.

He pulled you into a warm and well loved kitchen. It smelled like lamb stew and you realised he was going to try and feed you dinner. You panicked slightly before taking a breath, he invited you to his home. If he doesnt like you, he doesnt have to have you back.

He motioned for you to sit and poured two glasses of whiskey.

“I have wine, gin -”

“I can’t drink -” You said hoping you didnt seem rude. He simply raised and eyebrow and then put both gasses in front of his spot at the table.

“No alcohol.” You clarified.

“Oh, Tea, water, juice?” You thought about which would be easiest and settled for juice.

“Juice please.” You watched him pour a glass of cranberry juice into a whiskey glass.

You thought about sipping it but you felt too shaky at the moment.

“So Pirates eh?”

“Sorry if I scared him -”

“Nah, he liked it. Got me curious as to what actually happened though” He brought you a bowl of stew and a spoon. You looked down at the inviting warm mixture. Would it be worth risking it?

“Hmmm.” You sighed and then realized that he kept you around because of your work ethic, telling him the truth just meant he wouldn't have a romantic interest in you. A sadness flooded you but it was better to get these things over with.

“Well, I dropped a glass in the kitchen when I was little. My dad hit me and I hit my head on the kitchen tiles. The glass got in my eye I have -” You took a shaky breath. “A lot of nerve damage in my face. Sometimes it’s a bit hard to talk or move my face. I’m in a great deal of pain everywhere most of the time actually.”

Tommy studied you carefully.

“I’m sorry.” The words hit you like a bus, another failed conquest. You took another breath. He motioned for you to eat and you looked down at the large pieces of lamb.

“Might not be graceful.” You whispered, hating the anxiety humming through you. Can’t he just say this won’t work out and take you home?

“Nothing about me is graceful.” He shrugged. “Do you - Can I help?” his kindness took you off guard.

“No thank you.” You took a spoonful of broth and slurped it down. It took you the better half of an hour to get the soup finished. Tommy talked though which was nice. He was quiet like you, something you enjoyed about his company.

“Stay in my bed?”

“Oh.” You wanted to say yes. Even if it was just for night you wanted to know what it felt like. “I’ve not - I don’t know if I ca -”

“Just to sleep then?”

“I can do that” You smiled knowing it was crooked and painful to look at. He smiled back at you and it was also pained and crooked.

________________________

Her staying in Tommy’s bed for the night. Neither of them sleeps normally, so they end up talking for a lot of the night. He puts on some records and they lay in silence listening to the music.

He stops seeing whores at lunch after that

After a while, it’s full-on dating and they prefer each other's company rather than lying awake alone.

He notices her pain now and tries to help her out any way he can.

He asks her if touch is painful and she shrugs not sure how to give a solid answer - he tries a variety of things to make her feel good.

Charlie is happy and likes your stories but understands that sometimes you can’t talk. He will sit next to you and make up his own stories to make you feel better.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #charlie shelby #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders request

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