#build buy had better come in swinging for this pack

[bastardtrait]

when for rent comes out I’m gonna recreate my building with the guy that vomits at the back door every morning and the guy that smokes inside the elevator and the woman that interrupts every conversation with her annoying ass dog and the landlord that truly doesn’t gaf if you live or die and the no thoughts head empty mfs that don’t know how to park their cars and

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 3: Parents

You and Joel try to figure each other out and you and Ellie navigate your new relationship while you get ready to go to LA. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 2 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Remembered negligence by a parent. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.5k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

“Again.” 

You threw a punch at the sparring mitt on Joel’s hand. 

He shook his head once, tightening his jaw. You weren’t landing the blows well, something was holding you back. 

“C’mon, you got more in you than that,” he said, almost taunting you. “Again.” 

You yelled then and really pulled your fist back before swinging forward yet again. This time, though, it actually forced his arm to move some, making him recenter his weight as he tried to keep position. 

“There you go,” he said. “Keep doin’ that, let’s go.” 

“Seriously?” You panted, dripping sweat, your sports bra clinging somehow even tighter to your skin than it was before the workout started, something Joel was desperate to not pay attention to. “I feel like I’m about to die.” 

“Gotta build up that muscle,” he said. “Come on, Siren -” he said your code name like the taunt it was. “Hit me.” 

You really went after him then, wailing on the sparring mitts and coming for him hard and fast enough that it forced him to step back. 

“Better,” he said eventually and you lowered your hands, your chest heaving. “See? Knew you could do it.” 

“Yeah, turns out all it took was remembering what a dick you are,” you said, a teasing edge to your voice. “Way easier to want to punch you then.” 

“Ma’am?” Esmo’s voice appeared at the door to the pool house. “The car will be here in an hour.” 

“Thanks,” you panted, shucking your gloves and looking to Joel. “You all packed and ready?” 

“I’m ready,” he said. “Won’t have to worry about me.”

“You say that,” you said, putting the gloves away and grabbing your water bottle, chugging from it as you caught your breath. “But we’ll see how you do once we actually get to L.A.” 

“Don’t think it’s gonna be much of a challenge,” he said, even though he knew you were right. He just wasn’t about to say it. “Just don’t do anything stupid, we’ll be fine.” 

“Aw, now where’s the fun in that?” You asked, starting back toward the house. “You OK to get the kid?” 

“What if I said no?” He asked. “I’m not a damn chauffeur, you know.” 

“Sure about that?” You asked. “Because you beg to drive often enough…” 

“I got the kid,” he said. “Go do whatever air-headed shit you gotta do before you get on a plane.” 

You mouthed his words mockingly back at him as you made your way to your room and Joel made his way to the kitchen to get water for himself. 

Things with you had fallen into an almost surprising cadence in the week since his birthday and the conversation in your kitchen. 

It wasn’t that he liked you or anything as extreme as that. He’d just learned how to see you more as a person and less as the specter who haunted the wall of his daughter’s bedroom. You were still spoiled and overly opinionated and frustrating to no end but you were also oddly kind, sharply observant and a dedicated parent to a child who wasn’t yours to begin with. 

Even though your love and care for her was obvious, Ellie seemed to want to tiptoe around you for a few days after she got suspended. She avoided staying anywhere you were for too long, but Joel saw how you’d perk up when she came in and then visibly deflate when she left without saying much of anything at all to you. You tried to pretend like it didn’t bother you, even as you spent hours on the phone with the school trying to convince them to let Ellie come back early without saying why she’d picked a fight with that asshole boy to begin with. He didn’t buy it. 

Eventually, you wore the school down, and Ellie only missed two full days of classes. She just didn’t seem all that eager to return when she climbed in the car for Joel to drop her off the morning she went back. 

“You ready for school?” He asked eventually, glancing her way, trying not to think of navigating conversations like this with Sarah. There were points in time where he could tell something was bothering her but prying would just make it worse so he asked the innocuous questions in hopes she’d give him something - anything - to work with. 

“I guess,” she shrugged, staring determinedly out the window. 

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” He asked eventually when she didn’t give him anything else to work with. 

She sighed heavily. 

“I just…” she looked at Joel, her small hands twisting around themselves on her lap. “I know that stupid fucking boy is going to keep saying that shit. What do I do? I know, I know, I can’t hit him. Even though I should be able to fucking hit him.” 

Joel tried not to laugh at that. He didn’t entirely disagree. 

“He scare easy, you think?” He asked, glancing over to Ellie. 

“He seems like a little bitch,” she replied. “So yeah, probably. Why?” 

He shrugged, coming up with a plan. Or a semblance of one, anyway. 

When he got to the school, he didn’t go to the drop off line. Instead, he parked and got out, Ellie frowning as he did. 

“Show me this kid,” he said, nodding for her to lead the way. 

She scanned the crowed for a second before she found him, leaning against the side of the building, looking like he was vaping before the day started. 

“There he is,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “Fucking asshole.” 

“C’mon,” he said, walking up the hill toward the school, keeping an eye out for any teachers or parents who might cause any trouble. “We’ll handle it.” 

Ellie kept up, her much smaller legs needing to almost jog to keep pace with his longer, purposeful stride. Thankfully, the kid was trying to stay out of sight, making Joel’s plan a lot easier. 

The kid was, as it happened, also cocky as hell. 

“Well look who’s back,” he said, shoving back off the wall and not seeming to care that Joel was there. The fog from the vape reeked of pot. “What, your whore mom get them to let you out of your cage early?” 

“You motherfucker!” Ellie lunged for him but Joel held her back. She looked up at him, indignant, but he focused on the kid in front of him. He barely came up to Joel’s chin, maybe 16 years old and suddenly seemingly aware that he’d picked a fight with someone who wasn’t smaller than him. Joel stepped closer, squaring his shoulders, letting himself tower over the kid. He gulped, almost comically so, and stepped back until he was against the wall again. 

“We got a problem here,” Joel said. 

“I.. I don’t…” the kid stammered, but Joel cut him off. 

“Don’t remember askin’ you a damn thing, you little shit,” he said. “I said, we got a problem here. And that problem is you. Now, see, I don’t take too kindly for assholes like you causin’ problems for my people and Ellie here is one of my people. You may not know it but it’s my job to make sure she don’t have problems so you being one… well, that’s an issue, ain’t it?” 

The kid was silent. 

“That was a question,” Joel said, staring him down. “Answer it.” 

“Yes sir,” he said quickly. 

“Good boy,” Joel said using the same tone he would a dog who’d misbehaved. “The way I look at it, we got two ways to handle a problem. We can remove it or we can resolve it. I got all kinds of ways I can remove a problem but resolving it is easier. I like easier. Which would you rather I do?” 

The kid was silent, his eyes darting. 

“Answer. The. Question.” 

“Re…resolve it,” he said, shrinking lower on the wall. 

“Good,” Joel said. “That means, you stop talking shit. You don’t look at her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t talk to anyone else about her, you understand?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“You’re gonna treat her and her family with respect,” Joel considered. “And you’re gonna keep your thoughts - and hands - to yourself. I hear about any other shit like that comin’ out of this school? I’m going to assume it’s coming from you and I’m going to assume you’re a problem that can’t be resolved. That means you’re one that needs to be removed. Do you want me to remove you?” 

“No sir.” 

“What was that?” Joel asked, even though he’d heard him perfectly fine. 

“No sir,” he said, a little louder that time. 

“Good,” he said again. “Now apologize to Ellie.” 

His eyes darted to Ellie and back to Joel. 

“But…” 

“This ain’t a debate,” Joel growled. “Apologize. Now.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly to Ellie. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of it, I’m really sorry, I won’t say any of that shit again, I promise!” 

“Good,” Joel said. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll make sure they know about this little vaping habit of yours. Don’t think Texas takes too kindly to drug use, regardless of who your damn daddy is. Remember what I said about problems. Don’t become one and I won’t need to treat you like one. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes sir.” 

Joel gave him one final up and down, almost surprised to not find piss staining the front of his pants when he did. He looked back at Ellie. 

“Should get you to class,” he said. “C’mon.” 

He guided Ellie away from the kid and toward the sidewalk and she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut until they were out of earshot. 

“That was so fucking cool,” she was damn near beaming up at Joel. 

“He bothers you again, tell me,” he said, stopping to face her before she made her way to the front door of the school. “I’ll handle it.” 

“Would you beat him up?” She asked, her eyes lighting up. 

He made a face. 

“He’s a fuckin’ kid,” he said. “I don’t hurt kids. But he don’t need to know that. So let me know and don’t go trying to handle shit yourself again, OK kid?” 

“OK,” she said, giving him a firm nod. “Thanks, Joel.” 

He just gave her a nod back and watched her go into the school, staring down the kid still cowering against the wall as he made his way back to the car. 

Ellie started spending more and more time with Joel after that. He took her to and from school almost every day and it only took a few days for her to start talking to him. 

He didn’t invite it, not really, it just kind of happened. It started with her throwing her book bag in the back seat with a little too much force and sighing heavily and Joel’s latent fatherly instinct kicked in before he realized what he was doing. 

“Everything OK?” He asked, raising her brows and glancing toward her as he made his way around other cars picking up kids as the school day ended. She just looked at him, incredulous, until he shrugged. “Don’t take a genius to see something’s goin’ on. That kid give you more trouble?” 

“No,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He was quiet, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, giving her room to sit in the silence. And then she sighed. “It was another kid. Said some shitty stuff.” 

“Shitty stuff like what.”

“Just stuff,” she said, clenching her jaw before deflating. “I just… I don’t think I want to talk about it yet.” 

“Well,” Joel said. “Here when you do. Know your aunt is, too.” 

“Yeah, I know,” she said, watching Joel for a moment. “Want to kill some shit when we get home?” 

“Assuming you’re talkin’ about in one of those damn games…” 

“Duh,” she said. “Don’t think I’m allowed to do it in real life even though some people fucking deserve it.” 

Joel tried to keep from smiling at that. The kid had a mouth on her. He shouldn’t encourage it, he knew that. He shouldn’t encourage her spending time with him, either. But something in him liked that she sought him out, that she felt like he was someone who was safe, someone she could confide in. 

“Sure,” he said. “We can kill some shit.” 

“Fuck yeah.” 

“Hey,” he said. “Language.” 

And he watched as she rolled her eyes good naturedly, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Knowing he made her feel a little better tugged at him, too. He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t supposed to care. You and her were a job, nothing more. Caring about either of you was stupid at best, a liability at worst. It was best to keep his distance. 

He played the video games, anyway. 

Joel watched as things softened with you and Ellie in the week that followed and then, eventually, as he was having coffee before taking Ellie to school and you were sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, reading something on your iPad while eating avocado toast with a cup of coffee - because of course you ate fucking avocado toast - she sat next to you, plopping her backpack down on the open chair on the other side of her. 

You set the iPad down gently and gave yourself the excuse to do it by using both hands to pick up the toast, taking a small bite and chewing slowly before picking up your coffee with both hands next so the iPad wasn’t a distraction. 

“So,” Ellie said eventually. “You have that movie coming out soon, right?” 

“I do,” you said, looking over at her and smiling just a little. 

“Probably have to go do all that promotional shit soon, huh?” She asked, brows raised. 

You nodded. 

“Next week,” you said. “You’re going to go stay with your grandmother while I’m back in LA.” 

She nodded slowly. 

“Are you going to be doing the TV shows and shit?” She asked. 

“Some,” you said. “Doing a few days of interviews for different outlets and then I’ll be on Jimmy Kimmel the day before the premiere.” 

“Remember that time you were the voice of the cartoon duck when I was little?” She asked, smiling bigger. “You brought me and Mom to the premiere?” 

You laughed a little. 

“Yeah, you didn’t want to wear a skirt then either,” you said. “You were like seven and you insisted on wearing jeans on the red carpet.” 

Ellie laughed, too. 

“I liked that movie,” Ellie said. “It was good.” 

“I’m glad,” you smiled at her. “I made it for you.” 

She smiled tightly, the two of you watching each other for a moment. 

“Maybe we can watch it together when you get back?” She asked. “Haven’t seen it in a while.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’d like to that.”

“Cool,” she said as Esmo set a breakfast sandwich in front of her.

Esmo gave Joel a look, a death glare that told him to keep his mouth shut lest he disturb the delicate dance happening at the breakfast bar as the two of you ate side by side in silence, neither of you looking at the other but also not at any phone or tablet. 

Eventually, when Joel knew he was going to have to get Ellie loaded into the car, she broke the silence. 

“Hey Sissy?” She said, looking at you hesitantly. 

“What’s up kiddo?” You asked, watching her with a gentle smile on your face. 

“I…” Ellie paused, looking to the side for a moment and taking a deep breath before facing you again. “It really fucking sucked when my mom died. Even though we knew it was coming it still really, really, really fucking sucked. But as bad as it was… I know it would have been a whole lot worse if you weren’t here. I’m really glad I’m not doing this shit on my own.” 

Even from his place near the coffee maker, Joel could see you starting to tear up as you reached out and cupped her cheek. 

“I’ll always be here for you,” you said, voice wet. “You’ll never be on your own.” 

“I know,” she said. “I just… wanted you to know. That I know.” 

You smiled. 

“Thanks, kiddo,” you said. “Have a good day at school, OK?” 

“Thanks,” she smiled. “Have a good day doing… whatever it is famous people do.” 

You snorted and Joel got Ellie to school, the uncomfortable tension that had been in the air in the house since the day of the fight fading. 

It was a relief for Joel, too. He tried not to think about why, instead deciding that he was happy that he didn’t need to try and tiptoe around you and Ellie anymore. He’d felt oddly uncomfortable, knowing that you were hurting. He found himself trying to avoid picking at you the way he usually did, any small, cruel pleasure he took from it nowhere to be found when he knew you were actually miserable. 

He wasn’t sure why he cared. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why he cared. Now, things could go back to normal. 

And they did. Mostly. 

You still did the exact opposite of what he asked you to do whenever possible. You still went for coffee at the local coffee shop at least once a week, the one you’d gone to so much that Joel was certain the girl behind the counter knew who you were. You still went grocery shopping yourself. One day, when you apparently wanted to send him into a blind rage, you drove to a public park and got out of the car without saying a word. 

“Hey!” Joel yelled, jogging to catch up to you as you stretched a little, jogging in place as you did. 

“Yes, Big Miller?” You asked, brows raised, that stupid baseball cap that you pretended like protected you from everything under the sun pulled low over your face. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?” He asked, his hands on his hips, jaw squared. 

“Going for a run,” you said, as though this were the most typical thing in the world. 

Which, if you weren’t the most famous woman in the world, it would be. That just wasn't the case. Not with you. 

“Not out in public you ain’t,” he said. “Back in the car. Now.” 

“Back in the car. Now,” you said, puffing your cheeks out mockingly. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t feel like running on a treadmill today, it’s finally not 115 degrees outside, I’m going for a run in the park. Keep up if you want, sit in the car if you don’t, it’s really no skin off my back either way.” 

You started at a jog down the path before Joel had a chance to argue. He just growled, following along behind you, sweating through his t-shirt and jeans and wishing he was in his gym shoes instead of his fucking work boots. He glared as he passed other people on the trail, each of them looking at him like he was some kind of crazy person. 

“See, was that so bad?” You asked, panting for breath, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat as you made it back to the car. He snatched the keys from your hand and stalked to the driver’s door as you laughed. “God, you’re so sensitive! Such a baby…” 

So the next day - when you decided to go to fucking Target in the middle of the afternoon after going to the dentist - Joel had had just about enough. 

“No,” he said as you pulled into the parking lot. “Absolutely not.” 

“Well that’s unfortunate for you,” you said, ignoring him and getting out of the car, anyway. 

But Joel was ready for you this time, catching you as you came around the trunk of your SUV, making you jump. “What are you… Hey!” 

He ignored you, looping an arm around your waist and forcing you back as you beat uselessly at his chest. He wrestled the back door open and forced you unceremoniously into the back seat before he climbed in the driver’s seat and pushed the button to activate the child locks. 

“What the fuck!” You protested, pulling helplessly at the door handle. 

“Act like a fuckin’ child and I treat you like a fuckin’ child,” he said. “No reason for you to go to fucking Target. Already went to the store this week, don’t need any more of this shit from you.” 

“You realize that I pay you, right?” You snapped, leaning between the driver and passenger seats to scowl at him. “I’m literally your boss, you can’t just manhandle me into my own fucking car because you’re in a mood!” 

“Actually, pretty sure your manager signs the checks to my brother’s business,” Joel said, fighting the urge to smirk about it. “Studio, too. Think that makes them my boss, not you. Besides, I’m paid to worry about your safety which means I don’t gotta listen to you.

“You’ve been lucky that no one has really noticed that you live here yet but all it takes is one asshole with their goddamn cell phone camera out sharing your photo to one of those damn magazines and you’ll get swarmed everywhere you go,” he continued. “That what you want? These idiots following you everywhere? Following Ellie everywhere? You want your damn stalker showing up at your door?” 

You sat back in a huff, crossing your arms and glaring out the window. 

“Then maybe you should fucking listen to me,” he said. “Know what I’m talking about.” 

“Such an asshole,” you muttered and Joel smirked. 

This relationship with you he knew. This, he could handle. 

But he still found himself walking a strange line with you as the two of you worked on your fight skills together. Spending a few hours with you every day, showing you how to move your body, your body that was barely covered by those tight little gym outfits. He might loathe those as much as he loathed needing to be around you. 

Because, when all was said and done, he couldn’t ignore the fact that you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. It was disorienting, even after being around you as much as he was, to see you and recognize that you were real, that you really were just that beautiful. 

It wasn’t even that he was attracted to you, he told himself, the fact that you were beautiful was just a fact. Anyone could see it, even him in his deadened state. The fact that his heart beat faster when your hand brushed his skin was just biology. He was just a man, of course he’d have some sort of physical reaction around someone who looked like you. 

He tried not to think about needing to be in close quarters with you in new territory over the next few days, about what strange feeling he’d been sure was long dead would awaken in him then. 

At least he could still put you through your paces. 

Joel came home from picking up Ellie just as the car taking the two of you to the airport pulled up outside. Joel loaded his bags into the trunk of the car, waving off the pushy chauffeur as you herded Ellie to the car with all her bags. 

“And you have the charger for your Switch?” You asked, your arm around Ellie’s shoulders. 

“Yes,” Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“And your laptop for school?” You asked. “Because you can’t get out of homework just because you don’t have it…” 

“I have it,” she said. “And I have like 20 pairs of clean underwear and a toothbrush and…” 

“And your phone?” You asked. 

She looked at you, incredulous. 

“Duh.” 

You laughed and gave her a squeeze. 

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s get you dropped off so me and Big Miller can get out of here.” 

Ellie snorted. 

“Yeah, you and Big Miller need to go do movie star shit,” she said, getting in the back of the car with you, Esmo giving her bags to the chauffeur. “Don’t want to hold up such important things.” 

“Alright, Siren,” Joel said. “Let’s go.” 

The three of you went to Ellie’s grandmother’s house and she almost tackled her, you getting out and greeting her with a warm hug, too. 

“Hey Mom,” you smiled. “Thanks for taking our trouble maker here.” 

“Try and stop me from hanging out with my favorite granddaughter,” she smiled. 

“I’m your only granddaughter,” Ellie rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. 

“Have time to come in for a few?” She asked. “Introduce me to this tall, dark and handsome man you brought to my door? I’m Elise, by the way.” 

“Oh that’s just Big Miller,” Ellie said, smirking. 

“Big Miller?” She frowned down at her before looking at you. “What’s a Big Miller?” 

“He’s the security guard I mentioned before,” you said. “And I’m afraid we have a plane to catch.” 

“Don’t they wait for you these days?” She teased. 

“Not when you fly commercial,” you teased a little back. “But I’ll be back in a few days. Let me know if you need anything.” You turned your attention to Ellie. “Behave yourself, alright?” 

“She always behaves,” Elise said. “Which is why I get to load her up with sugar before she goes home.” 

“Hell yeah!” Ellie said before looking back to you. “I’ll be good, Sissy. Promise.” 

You seemed satisfied but were still slow to get back in the car, giving another final round of hugs before getting back in. 

“Directly to the airport, ma’am?” The chauffeur asked. 

“Please,” you said, watching out the window as Ellie and Elise headed into the house. 

Joel found himself checking on you in the rearview mirror as you made your way to Intercontinental in Houston, a recommendation of Joel’s you’d actually heeded. 

“It’s a bigger airport,” he’d said. “Less likely for people to notice you and, if they do, they got no reason to think you live in Austin. Extra layer of security.” 

You did your makeup - something he didn’t like noticing - and then kept mouthing words to yourself as you kept your nose buried in an iPad. 

“What are you doin’?” He asked eventually and you looked up, your eyes meeting his in the mirror and he tried to ignore how fucking pretty you were when your makeup was done. Didn’t seem possible that you could get any damn prettier but of course you found a way. 

“Trying to get off book for the chemistry reads I have tomorrow morning,” you said. 

Joel frowned and twisted around to face you. 

“The fuck does that mean.” 

You smiled a little and he felt a twinge in his chest, one he resented. 

“It means I want to have my lines memorized before I need to read them with some people who are kind of auditioning tomorrow,” you said. “It’s not required or expected but I like being able to really focus on the person I’m working with and be a good scene partner. There are a few up and comers, it can be intimidating being in a room and reading with someone like me. I want to make sure they’ve got everything I can give them to do well.” 

He just grunted, facing forward again as you got closer to the airport. He hated when you did shit like that, something that seemed kind and thoughtful. He didn’t want to think of you as that type of person, it made him uncomfortable and it was worse when he knew he was about to be closer than usual to you over the next few days. It was easier to keep his distance from you when you were a spoiled brat. When you were nice or observant or, heaven forbid, vulnerable, he was keenly aware of the effect you had on him, on the way he wanted to look at your too perfect face and feel your fingers on his skin. It was an effect he needed to get over. You were a job. Nothing more. 

There was a team of people waiting for you at the airport, half a dozen of them damn near swarming the car as the driver pulled up to the curb. 

“So it begins,” you said, an ominous note in your voice before you plastered a smile on your face as someone opened the door for you. 

The team ushered you through the process of getting you into the airport quickly, apparently desperate to avoid the disruption that would come with your presence if you were noticed. Your bags had been sent ahead earlier in the day and someone in a suit took your tote bag with your iPad and laptop and book and rushed it ahead to security as someone else finalized both you and Joel’s check in on the flight. 

“I got a firearm in that bag,” Joel said as someone took his luggage from him. He turned to someone in a suit next to him, one who was paying far more attention to you than to him. “Hey, that OK? They hear me about the gun? Really don’t want to get to fuckin’ California and not have my side arm…” 

“I’ll make sure there are no issues,” the man said, giving Joel a tight smile 

They moved both of you to the front of the TSA line, the check seeming more cursory than anything for you, at least. They still gave Joel a full pat down, one that strayed a little too close to his crotch than he was pleased with, giving the agent a death glare until they pulled their hand away. Then, in another flurry of people in suits, the two of you were ushered into one of the fancy fucking airport lounges Joel had always walked past but never even dreamed of going inside, tucking you away in a private corner with a reserved sign on the table, a server immediately rushing to take your order. The whole process took maybe 10 minutes, you with a glass of white wine as you folded yourself back into the corner of the couch, settling in with your iPad in your hand again. 

Joel scoffed derisively. This shit was almost heaven sent, a reminder of just how easy life was for someone like you. Exactly the thing he needed to remember that you weren’t just some pretty face, that it must be easy to be fucking nice when everyone was waiting on you hand and foot all the time. 

“Yes?” You asked, brows raised as you lowered the tablet. 

“It always that easy for you?” He asked. “Just everyone takin’ care of all the hard shit, no lines, no dealing with authorities, just stroll right on through?” 

You laughed a little, shaking your head. 

“It’s easy here because no one was looking for me,” you said. “Wait until we get to LAX, then we’ll talk.” 

“What makes you think it’ll bad?” He asked. 

“Well, someone on the flight is going to notice me,” you said. “They always do. They’ll tweet about it, probably with a picture they didn’t ask my permission to take, and then half the paparazzi in LA will show up, ready to catch me looking tired and cranky after a flight because I haven’t given them shit in months and, unfortunately, my picture sells.” 

“And it’s really gonna be that quick,” he said, skeptical, his brows raised. 

“Oh, definitely,” you said. “And it’ll be like that the whole time I’m in LA, there will always be a photographer right on my ass, all day every day. Quinn tipped them off to a few places I’ll be so they will hopefully calm down otherwise but yeah, it’ll get crazy. The good news is, the people in LA are used to it. They see movie stars every day. There will always be a few tourists or super fans who come up but it’s not too bad, just the photographers are rough.” 

He nodded slowly, processing. He’d worked closely with Tommy in the week leading up to this, coordinating with a security team in LA. You’d have a driver, other people besides him on hand in situations that might be dicey or where more people would know where you were but Joel was still going to be your body man. He just wasn’t sure exactly what to expect once he was on the ground. He’d never dealt with paparazzi, at least not in fucking Los Angeles. 

You finished working on your lines after a while, putting your iPad aside and just looking around the small parts of the lounge you could see from the corner where they’d put you. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked after a while, curiosity nagging at him. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, trying not to look taken aback. “What’s up?” 

“Ellie’s grandma,” he said slowly, trying to figure out how to word it. “Seems like you’re closer to her than your mother.” 

“That’s because I am,” you said. “And that wasn’t a question.” 

He gave you a look and you laughed once. 

“I guess I was just… I didn’t know why that was,” he said. “Was wondering.” 

You considered Joel for a moment. 

“This falls under your NDA,” you said. “Just so we’re clear.” 

“Course,” he said. 

“Do you know much about my career?” You asked, adjusting in your seat as you did. 

He shrugged. 

“A little. Know you’ve got an Oscar for some movie I never fuckin’ saw. Know that show you were on, Siren, of course.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“Well, I was ‘discovered’ when I was five,” you said. Joel’s brows shot up. “I was in line at the grocery store with my mother and a modeling agent saw me there. According to her, he practically signed me on the spot and I started working right away. I don’t remember it well. The work was just catalogue at first, nothing crazy. Then I started doing commercials… by the time I was seven I was on my first TV show.” 

Joel frowned at that. 

“What show?” 

“That sitcom Family Tree?” You said it like it was a question. “It aired in the 90s and the early 2000s, I was the precocious baby of the family. Cute, smart ass, that sort of thing.” 

“Oh shit,” Joel laughed. “That was you? Jesus, I remember watching that show with my parents…” 

You smiled a little. 

“Yeah, that was me,” you said. “My first big job. I met Elise and Anna, Ellie’s mom, on that job. Elise was the tutor for the kids on the show, we basically had our own little school with the five of us. She brought Anna to set one day and we hit it off… Anyway, the point of this is, my mother was my manager. I was on that show for 10 years and I was doing movies, too. My mother was in charge of all of it. She handled my contracts, publicity, all the money… that was the real problem.

“She stopped seeing me as her daughter pretty early, I think,” you continued. “Probably hard to see the person making you rich as your child, not when all you want is to get more money. More, more, more, she was never happy with it. She would throw me at any job that was offered as long as it paid, no real direction to my career for years, not until I started to be old enough to have some of my own damn artistic vision. But… well, she handled the money, every cent I made and boy did she handle it, handled it right out the door.” 

“Jesus,” Joel blinked back his shock. 

You shrugged. 

“I figured out what was going on when I was about 14,” you said. “By then, I’d been working almost 10 years and I didn’t have a damn penny to show for it. In fact, I owed the IRS a shit ton of money because she hadn’t paid taxes, either. It was a disaster because I was suddenly without a manager, penniless, in a legal shit show and I needed to find someone else to be my guardian because lord knew I couldn’t stay with my mother after that. I tried to make a go of it on my own - I thought it would have been easier, it felt like I’d been taking care of myself for long enough anyway - but, when I was through the worst of the financial stuff, I went to live with Elise.” 

You laughed a little and Joel wasn’t sure why, none of this shit was funny. 

“She was so pissed at first,” you said. “She didn’t say it at the time, of course, she didn’t tell me any of this until I was in my 20s but she was furious I hadn’t come to her right away. She’d already been looking out for me more than my mother ever did, she seemed to know that my mother wasn’t doing anything to take care of me. She had me spend the night with Anna all the time, she was always checking to make sure that I was safe on set - more than I can say for a lot of other kids who have worked in this industry, let me tell you. She was always there for me. I just was afraid that, if she took me in when I had nothing at all, she’d somehow end up on the hook for all the money my mother and I owed everyone. I did an action movie with some stupid, bloated budget when they needed some smart alec teenager to play the kid of the hero and waited for that check to clear. It was enough to cover almost everything I needed to pay back and then I felt like it was OK to go to her and tell her everything. So, as far as I’m concerned? Elise is my mom. The woman who gave birth to me just happens to share my DNA and not much else. I’ll take care of her, check in on her, make sure she has everything she needs for a comfortable life, but that’s it. She is not my mom.” 

Joel watched you for a moment, just processing. Without meaning to, he pictured Sarah at 14 - just a year before she’d died - and she was still a kid, just a kid. He pictured her trying to navigate a world that was cold and cruel and cared nothing for her safety without anyone to help her and his blood got hot, his fingers clenching a little tighter, his jaw setting a little firmer. 

You frowned at him, cocking your head at him as though he were a curiosity. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’,” he said eventually, sitting back in his chair and looking back out at the room, watching for potential threats against the shockingly human thing that was you. “Just didn’t expect that is all.” 

Someone came and got the two of you for the flight, when boarding was winding down and you wouldn’t need to stand there and wait with all the other mere mortals and Joel was able to tuck that odd feeling down low inside him again. It didn’t matter that you’d once been a vulnerable kid hung out to dry, you’d clearly done just fine for yourself. He didn’t need to think about you that way. It wouldn’t make a difference now, anyway. 

The two of you were seated in the front row and, for the first 20 minutes or so of the flight, Joel started to think that you might have been wrong. You’d kept your head down and folded yourself into the window seat as quickly as possible, not giving anyone much of a chance to look at your face. Maybe no one would really notice you, maybe you would be able to make it out of the airport on the other side with no one the wiser. 

And then some asshole heading back to his seat from the bathroom froze, his jaw dropping when he saw you. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed. 

You smiled a small, almost amused smile. 

“Hi,” you said. 

“You’re not…” he said, looking around the rest of first class like he might have been crazy. The man across the aisle for Joel leaned forward, peering around him as he frowned. 

“Afraid so,” you scrunched your nose in a way that Joel was sure was meant to cute and charming and probably was to everyone else but, to him, it was just enraging. 

“Holy shit,” he said again, stepping in front of Joel as if he wasn’t there at all. “I loved you in Fast Track! That one chase sequence where you were driving backwards was so cool, how did they do that? I read you did your own driving, is that true?” 

“I did some of my own driving,” you laughed lightly. “But I didn’t drive much there, we had a stunt driver that actually faced backwards in the car and drove when we were in reverse. I did drive the forward facing parts of that sequence, though. I’m glad you liked it.” 

“Can I get a selfie?” The guy asked, already pulling out his phone before you even had a chance to say no. “My best friend is in love with you, he’s going to freak out, he had your poster on the wall of our dorm freshman year.” 

Joel was about to tell him to fuck off but you were unbuckling your seat belt. 

“Sure,” you said, getting up and standing next to him so he could take the picture. You smiled and looked far more beautiful than anyone sitting on a plane had any right to be and Joel gritted his teeth. “What’s your name?” 

“Sean,” he said, still looking at you like he wasn’t sure you were real. 

“Lovely to meet you, Sean,” you said. “Tell your friend I said hi.” 

He went back to his seat and you sat back down and Joel couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers tightened on the end of the arm rest, as though you could dig your nails into the plastic if you just tried hard enough. It was the only indication that anything was wrong. If he hadn’t been around you so much over the last few weeks, he’d never have noticed but now, it seemed impossible not to. 

Sean, it seemed, opened the floodgates. People started cautiously approaching, all talking to you, all awed by you, all asking for selfies that you obliged with a smile. You answered questions patiently, signed napkins, took a video where you said hi to someone’s wife. All the while, Joel ground his teeth while people damn near sat on his lap while they waited to get a moment with you. 

Eventually, a flight attendant got fed up and made an announcement. 

“Everyone, we understand that we have a high profile passenger on board,” she said. “While I’m sure this is very exciting for some of you, we still need to maintain safe travel conditions while in route to Los Angeles. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened so flight attendants can do their jobs and you’re not hurt by unexpected turbulence. Thank you.” 

Joel could have kissed her as everyone reluctantly made their way back to their seats and you visibly relaxed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, taking a deep breath as you did. 

“You alright?” Joel asked, keeping his voice low. 

You opened one eye, looking at him quizzically before closing it again. 

“Fine,” you said. “Just ready to get to LA.” 

Joel kept his eyes and ears open the rest of the flight, hearing your name come up in hushed whispers from all around them. He heard the snap of a cellphone camera shutter and looked around, glowering, for the culprit but never spotted them. Joel searched your name on Twitter. You were trending, pictures of you being rushed through airport security earlier and from the plane everywhere while everyone under the sun tried to figure out what the fuck you’d been doing in Houston, Texas, to begin with. 

When the plane landed, the flight attendant let you and Joel off first to avoid the threat of chaos as you made your way quickly toward arrivals. 

But you paused, just shy of the end of the secured area, staring it down the sliding doors as though they were an opponent. 

“We doin’ this or not?” Joel asked, probably gruffer than he should have. 

“We are,” you said, not looking at him. “I’m just… saying goodbye to the quiet life I’ve had the last few months. I’m going to miss it.” 

You didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, you just made for the security doors, greeted by a sea of cameras as the chaos of your existence in Los Angeles welcomed you home. 

A/N: Thank you for being patient with this series! I've started graduate school so everything I care about seems to get put on the back burner anymore. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

This LA arc I am SUPER excited for. Get ready to learn so so SO much more about Siren and Joel both as things ramp up in the City of Angels.

Also, sending some love to one of my besties (who does NOT read my fic but does know I write it) who answered the arbitrary questions I had about the Houston airports. She's the best.

Thank you for choosing to spend your time with my work! Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is hoping your car is not repairable. And when you and he run into a fling from his past, it throws Bradley into an internal dilemma about his self worth. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, and swearing

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You finally felt well enough to head back to work on Wednesday. Since your car was still missing under slightly mysterious circumstances, you had to ride in with Bradley.

"My mechanic said he wants you to come make some decisions about your car. We can head there after work," Bradley said. You didn't appreciate the slightly giddy tone in his voice.

"Did he say what's wrong with it?" you asked, eating a bagel while he drove. 

"Just that they replaced the battery and the starter. I think he wants to talk to you about the next steps."

You glared at him. "Next steps? I better not have to replace it. I love that car."

Bradley just grinned as he drove. "I'll replace it for you, Baby Girl. You can blame it all on me."

It felt good to get back into the swing of things after being away and being sick. When Bradley texted to see if you were joining him for lunch, you sent him an angry face emoji and told him you were eating with Cam and Maria. That was the last you heard from him until the end of the day when he was knocking on your open door.

"Are you really mad at me?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe with his hand on his hip. "Because you shouldn't be. Your car has a personal vendetta against me, Sweetheart."

"My car is blameless," you said, pausing to point at him before you packed up your bag. He was wearing his short sleeved khaki uniform, and you could see his tattoo peeking out below the sleeve. It would have been impossible to be mad at him. "Take me to it."

He just shook his head and held your hand as you waited for the elevator. As you rode down to ground level, you wrapped your arms around his waist. "Remember when we listened to OutKast together in this elevator?"

He ran his hands along your back. "Of course. Then I played it at the Hard Deck, because it was stuck in my head after I knew you liked it. How embarrassing. I showed you all of my cards so early."

You giggled against him and slid your hand up his bicep and under his sleeve, stroking the inked paper airplane. "You're so sweet, Roo. Never made me second guess that you wanted to date me." 

"Marry you," he rasped, kissing the top of your head as you caressed his skin. "Just had to date you long enough so we didn't seem completely crazy."

The ride to the mechanic was filled with one of Bradley's playlists while he asked you a bunch of times if you were really feeling better. 

"I'll be feeling great once I'm driving my car home," you told him as he pulled up to a garage with a bunch of cars being worked on. You spotted yours parked off to the side right away.

"Please don't get your hopes up that it's even driveable, Baby Girl," Bradley was telling you, but you were already climbing down to find out what was going on.

You rushed inside the building with Bradley right behind you, and you were asking about the car before he could even get a word in. And after a moment, the mechanic was leading both of you back outside.

"I've gotta tell you, your car's been a little difficult," the mechanic explained as he led both of you to the car. "But I think after the new battery and starter, it might be okay. Doesn't start up clean each time though."

"It will for me," you insisted, glaring at Bradley over your shoulder. 

The mechanic handed the keys to you, and you got yourself situated in the driver's seat. It started up perfectly for you. Three times in a row. 

"I told you it would be fine!" you told Bradley, gesturing wildly at the interior of your car as you looked up at him. "No need to buy a new one." 

He just stood with his arms crossed, shaking his head. "I'm paying for this then?" he asked, a smirk hiding just under the surface. 

"Yes, pay this nice man for the repairs," you said, bestowing a bright smile on the mechanic who smiled back at you. 

The mechanic leaned down and pointed to something on your dashboard. "Actually, while I have you here, I wanted to point out a few things that you should keep an eye on."

Bradley shook his head and sighed. "I'm going to head inside and pay."

You shooed Bradley away and listened to what the mechanic had to say about your car. 

------------------------

Bradley was leaning against the counter, putting his credit card back in his wallet and looking over the detailed receipt of repairs. He supposed eight hundred dollars wasn't too bad, especially since you were so happy your car was still running. He'd figure out a way to replace your car eventually. The only issue was, he doubted you'd ever let him drive it again. 

"Bradley?"

He turned to his left to see a woman about your age standing there smiling at him like she'd just won the lottery. 

"Hi," he replied, desperately trying to place her. She was kind of familiar. Cute face, dark hair, nice smile. All things he liked. 

She was inching closer now. "I'm Whitney. Remember? From like a year ago?"

Bradley's shoulders sagged as he exhaled. A shameful feeling of discomfort filled him up; he'd slept with her. He could remember her now. They met at some stupid outdoor concert thing he went to with Nat right after he came to San Diego. He'd taken her back to the barracks that night. He'd actually let her sleep over. 

He felt sick. "No. It was more than a year ago." He knew that much for sure. He hadn't so much as flirted with anyone except you since he met you last August. Fourteen months ago. 

"Well, close enough," Whitney replied, running her fingers through her hair in a way that Bradley would have probably found appealing. "I can't believe I ran into you here. Feel like grabbing a drink with me? I could give you my number again," she said in a singsong tone before nibbling on her lip. "Or... maybe you just want to follow me to my place?"

Had he really been that easy? He supposed he had. Just a pretty face and some tits had usually done the trick for him. He was embarrassed. So embarrassed for himself and for you. It was almost unbearable for him when these feelings came to the surface. He was not good enough for you, and he knew it. 

You came strolling back inside, mid conversation with the mechanic before you thanked him and headed for Bradley.

"I told you, Roo! I told you my car would be fine," you said, laughing as you wrapped your arms around his waist. "Ever stop to think that maybe you're the problem?"

You were running your nose along the scars on his neck before you turned and saw how closely Whitney was still standing to him. Bradley held you a little tighter, but you froze and eyed the other woman cautiously. 

"Oh," Whitney gasped, taking a small step back.

"Whitney, this is my fiancée," Bradley said with as much confidence as he could. 

"Hi," you said politely before looking up at Bradley, eyes searching his for a clue as to what was going on.

But Whitney looked you up and down before focusing on Bradley with extreme agitation. "You said you never got serious. You made it a point to tell me that."

Now you seemed to understand what was happening here, because you stood a little taller, but kept your arm around Bradley. The fact that he knew you would stand here and defend him until you were out of breath made this painful ache inside him even worse. But he wouldn't let you do that for him today.

"I never got serious before," he told Whitney. Then he stroked his fingers along your cheek until you were looking up at him again. He gave you a small smile and kept his eyes on yours. "Because I didn't know this one existed yet."

Your eyes fluttered closed as you smiled up at him. He loved you so much, he hated that this was happening. 

Whitney scoffed sarcastically, and Bradley watched your face return to a neutral expression before you turned toward her. "Anything else we can help you with?" you asked blandly. When Whitney just shook her head, you waved to her and said goodbye. 

Bradley didn't know what to say to you as you watched Whitney walk away. 

You took both of his hands in yours and kissed his lips softly. "Ready to go home?"

Bradley just grunted in agreement. "I'll follow you," he said. "In case you have any issues with your car."

"Okay," you said, your voice soft and sweet. He would have expected more of an argument about how your car was the best thing you owned, but you just nodded and agreed with him. 

So he watched you get settled in the driver's seat, and he pulled out onto the main road behind you. He was glad you weren't in the Bronco to witness the emotional beating he was giving himself. 

----------------------

Bradley slept with that woman. You could tell almost immediately by the interaction, but you had needed him to confirm it for you. You knew it was before you and he were together. He made it a point to say that he hadn't known you existed yet when he was with her. 

You didn't care. It was obvious to you that Bradley had been with a lot of women before you. He had even told you as much. And you'd put Hangman, Payback and the other guys in their place when they tried to make Bradley feel bad about himself. You wouldn't let anyone get to him over something so dumb. But as you parked in the driveway and watched him pull in as well, you got the distinct feeling that he was already in his own head over this. And you weren't sure if you'd be able to protect him against himself. 

He walked around the Bronco and opened your car door for you. "Thanks, Roo," you said. He let you take his hand, but he remained silent as you led him to the front door. "Are you hungry? We still have some of the leftover soup you got to help me feel better." 

But he just shook his head and quickly unbuttoned his uniform shirt, leaving him in his white undershirt and khaki pants. "I'm not hungry," he said softly, grabbing Tramp's leash and hanging his shirt on the hook instead. "You should eat though. Don't want you to start feeling sick again."

He knelt down and clipped Tramp's leash to his collar, then he opened the front door. 

"Can we talk about it, Roo?"

You watched his broad chest rise and fall, but he didn't meet your eyes. "I just... I'll be back."

"Bradley," you said firmly, fighting the urge to stomp your foot and yell at him. "I do not care about that shit. It doesn't matter to me "

But he turned further away from you. "I'm embarrassed. I can't take you to the mechanic without running into someone I hooked up with, who I can barely even fucking recognize. It's bad enough that it happens at the bar or when I'm fucking deployed."

"Bradley," you tried again. "Please look at me?"

He did exactly as you asked, but his face looked pale and pinched. His eyes were guarded, and you hesitated even though you wanted to touch him.

The words, "I love you," slipped from your lips, but he just nodded and opened the door. Tramp danced around at his feet, getting excited to go outside. 

"Please, just let me take Tramp for a walk." He didn't wait for an answer, and soon you were standing in the entryway alone.

You didn't know how to reassure him. You thought about texting Phoenix for help, but what could she do? It would be a bad idea to text Jake, so you would just wait Bradley out. He had to come home eventually.

-------------------------

Bradley strolled up and down the beach in his combat boots while Tramp sniffed everything along the way. It was windy and cloudy, and nobody else was really out, which suited his mood. 

He was so embarrassed. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you must be embarrassed, too, even if you weren't admitting it to him. 

Bradley just wanted to be good for you. He wanted you to be as proud of him as he was of you. The wedding was next month, and it was pretty much all planned and ready now. Marrying you was the only thing he wanted for himself. 

Tramp started dragging around a piece of driftwood as Bradley led him further up the beach. He had everything he wanted; everything had changed so much in barely a year of knowing you. He had you and Tramp and somewhere to live that wasn't temporary.

You had to know all the other women were before he met you. He'd told you that. Bradley had told you there was nobody else for him now, just you. So why did he feel so shitty? 

He caught sight of his tattoo, and his embarrassment grew deeper. You wanted him to talk to you instead of stew, but he'd walked out of the house anyway. The sun was setting now, and he'd usually be showering or snuggling with you at this point in the evening.

"Fuck," he grunted, guiding Tramp up to the beach entrance trail. "Let's go talk to Mommy."

When he finished brushing the sand from Tramp's fur and let him in, it was getting dark outside. You appeared to be fresh out of the shower, wearing his old UVA shirt as you cleaned up the kitchen.

You turned to face him with wide eyes. "Cleaning the kitchen is my job," he said, trying for a teasing tone. 

"Yeah, you're better at it than I am," you replied with a hesitant smile. "How was your walk?"

He took a step closer. "I'm sorry I didn't stay and talk to you."

You just shrugged. "You needed a minute to yourself. I can appreciate that. But I don't know why you're embarrassed, Roo. I didn't learn anything new today."

He just shook his head. "I know you didn't. And just to be clear, there's nothing else to learn. It's just been you since we met. You know that, right?"

The soft smile that touched your lips could have brought him to his knees. "Yeah, I know that. It was the same for me. I didn't want to date anyone when we met, or have you forgotten that? I didn't even want to date you at first," you said with a laugh. "But that didn't last long."

Your hand connected with his abs, and when he didn't stop you, he felt you wrap your arms around him. "You don't think I'm a little embarrassed that I originally intended for you to be a hookup? A hookup, Bradley. I love you more than anything else in this world, and while you were trying to tell me you were falling in love with me, I was trying to keep it casual."

He laughed as you rubbed your cheek against his chest. "Yeah, that is a little embarrassing," he agreed, already feeling better. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide, demanding his attention. "You're not the only one with a past. You never make me feel bad about myself, and I never want you to feel bad either. There's a reason we both stopped hooking up when we met each other. We're supposed to be together."

He just nodded. "You know, I was embarrassed that I didn't recognize Whitney at first. Thought it was because I'd been such a manwhore. But I think maybe the reason I couldn't remember her or anyone else is because you've taken over my whole brain, Baby Girl." 

Your eyes flashed with something akin to anger. "Do not call yourself a manwhore. I fucking lost it on the guys when they made you feel bad, and I'll lose it on you just the same."

He swallowed hard. "Okay. I won't."

"And if I was somehow able to make you only think of me, I'm certainly not going to complain." You nuzzled your face against his arm and kissed along his tattoo. "You're mine."

Bradley let you make him feel better. He let you heat up some soup for him, and you sat in his lap while he ate it. He let you get him cozy on the couch and snuggle as you watched a show. He let you do all that magical stuff you always did that made his heart feel full.

------------------------

Thursday was better, but by Friday, Bradley had definitely perked up. 

"What time is dinner with Cam and Maria?" Bradley asked, getting changed into jeans after work. 

"In an hour and a half," you told him from the bathroom where you were doing your hair. 

He walked in and let his hands rest on your hips. "You look so pretty. Should I cancel golf and bar hopping with the guys tomorrow and spend the day with you instead?"

You glared playfully at him in the mirror. "Are you really golfing tomorrow? Or is that just a cover for another tattoo?"

"Don't test me, Baby Girl," he whispered, kissing your neck. "If it wasn't Coyote's birthday, I would be canceling."

"No, you should go, because I have some things I need to do tomorrow."

He kissed along your neck and you smirked. "Like what?"

"Well..." you said, turning in his arms so you were facing him. "I was hoping Daddy would give me an allowance to go lingerie shopping for the honeymoon." You looked up into his wide, brown eyes with as much innocence as you could muster without grinning. You didn't need his money for that, but you loved teasing him. 

You watched his head tip back as he groaned, his Adam's apple straining. "Fuck. How much do you want?" He started fumbling in his jeans pocket. "Here, take my whole wallet."

You started laughing. "You want me to buy a lot, Roo?"

"I want you to buy everything," he said, handing you his wallet and then pushing you up against the sink vanity. "Buy it all. Lingerie, dresses, bathing suits. Whatever you want."

You were giggling as he rubbed his mustache along your cheek. "Whatever I want?"

His hands were on your zipper as he kissed you all over your face. "Use my credit cards. Drain my retirement accounts if you need to. I'll take out a second mortgage. Get whatever you want."

You tucked his wallet into your back pocket, and it took all your willpower to grab his wrist and pull his hand out of the front of your underwear. "Bradley," you whispered as he hummed next to your ear. "We can't right now. Rings, remember?"

Bradley groaned as he zipped and buttoned your jeans for you. "Picking out wedding rings is the only thing that could deter me from a quickie right now. I hope you know that."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard. "We won't stay out too late tonight."

Bradley picked you up and whispered, "We'll skip dessert, and I'll bring you home and eat you instead."

---------------------

Bradley really wanted you to pick out whichever matching wedding bands you wanted, but you insisted on getting his input. 

"It's gotta be gold to match," you said, holding up your left hand which he kissed. "Your dad picked out the prettiest ring for your mom."

"He did, but that's your ring now. Pick out whatever you want to match."

He watched you look at seemingly every ring in the jewelry store before pulling out a few plain gold bands that you liked. The jeweler helped you try them on with your ring, and Bradley was already imagining slipping one of them on your finger himself. 

"I like these two," you finally told him, pointing out two pairs. "You choose."

Bradley slipped the first one on his finger and smiled. It felt good. It looked good. He liked it. He swapped it out for the second one, and he saw your smile grow. He liked this one even more.

"Put the matching one back on, Baby Girl." You slid the matching band on and held your hand up for him. They were simple gold bands, and yours looked perfect with your engagement ring. "These ones, yeah?"

You just nodded and kissed him. "Yeah. I'm paying for them," you said, handing your credit card to the jeweler before he could argue. "Don't worry Daddy, I'll run up a sizeable bill on your card tomorrow."

Bradley tilted your chin up with his fingers. "You better."

He couldn't wait to get you home. But first, Bradley had to make it through dinner. Luckily, he knew Cam and Maria well enough by this point to be able to touch you the whole time without them batting an eye.

Cam smiled across the table at him while he ate his salad. "So, Bradley, you ever planning on shaving off that pornstache, I mean mustache?" he asked with a smile.

Bradley chuckled and leaned over to kiss your cheek. "That's up to this one," he replied, looking at you.

"No, it stays forever," you told Cam. "Had him shave it once. Instant regret." 

"Should I be looking at bridesmaids dresses?" Maria asked. "You guys really need to pick a wedding date!"

You and Bradley shared a smirk. "Don't worry about that yet," you told your friend. 

"I want to worry about it!" Maria complained. "You guys could have gotten married last year, and I feel like nobody would have thought it was weird."

Bradley appreciated your friends for how much they really did like him, and how much they obviously loved you. But there was no way they were going to get any top secret wedding intel out of either of you.

"Oh, you know what we should do, Roo?" you suddenly asked him. "Let's host a Halloween party!"

You were giving him a look. He thought this might have been your way of steering the conversation where you wanted it. "Yeah, sounds fun," he agreed, looking across the table at your friends who both looked delighted. So he'd host another party with you. That sounded like something for married people. 

True to your word, you and Bradley ducked out before dessert. When Bradley buckled you into the Bronco, he pulled the wedding bands out of the glovebox and handed them to you. "Don't want to forget to take those inside later," he told you with a kiss. He watched you tuck them into your purse, and as soon as he was pulling out onto the road, your hands were on his jeans, unzipping.

"Oh, shit," Bradley groaned as you eased your hand inside his jeans and started stroking him, making him a little hard after just a few passes of your hand along his cock. "I get a handjob on the way home?" He was trying to pay attention to the road, but he glanced down to watch your hand pump him all the way to the tip and then move back down.

"Road head, Daddy," you said just before you started to shimmy yourself onto your belly.

"Hell yes," Bradley hissed as he felt your warm breath on his cock. You wasted no time, taking him deep, letting him hit the back of your throat. It took every ounce of Bradley's concentration to stay on the road as he hit the back of your throat again, making you gag. By the third time you started gagging, Bradley was panting.

You withdrew him long enough to ask, "Does Daddy like that?" Then he was gliding back between your perfect lips while you sucked on him.

Bradley ran his fingers along the back of your neck and grunted. "Daddy loves it. Just keep your seatbelt on, Baby Girl." He took the long way home, driving on backroads at a leisurely pace that seemed to match the movement of your mouth around his dick. You weren't in any hurry, and neither was he. "My God, you give the best head." 

He dragged his hand down your neck and along your spine until he was palming your ass through your jeans. When he rolled up to a stop sign, he landed a hard slap that had you suddenly jerking forward and moaning. 

"Fuck!" Bradley practically howled. He was seeing stars, you were taking him so deep now. He kept his foot firmly pressing down on the brake pedal and listened to the sloppy, wet sounds you were making on him. He was too close now, fucking up into your mouth. 

A horn blared behind him, and he let loose a string of curse words as he manually rolled down his window and waved the car behind him around. He was going to cum, he was right on the edge. The other driver was stopping next to him and asking if he needed any help. 

Bradley's head was tipped back against the headrest as the first tingles of his orgasm washed through him.

"I'm fine!" he hollered through the open window. "Oh shit, I'm so good."

"Are you sure?" the other driver asked.

Bradley just violently waved him on, saying, "My wife has it under control!"

He felt you moan, and that was it. He was filling your mouth with cum as you sucked with hollowed out cheeks until he couldn't feel his fingertips. 

Bradley ended up waving on two more cars before you popped his softening cock out of your mouth and smiled up at him. "Take me home."

"Anything you want," he whispered, and you carefully zipped him back up while he drove you there.

------------------------

"You called me your wife," you gasped. "In the Bronco."

"Mmhmm," Bradley hummed against your clit as you tipped your head back against your pillow. He was gently stroking his fingers along your tattoo and holding your right foot in place on his shoulder.

"It turned me on."

"I can see that," he said, grinning up at you. "I can taste it, too. You're so wet."

You propped yourself up on one elbow and watched him work you over. He was so sexy, and every time you saw his tattoo, you clenched around his fingers. You were so close now, and you wanted to cum, so you decided to push him over the edge. 

"We have wedding rings."

Yep, that did it. You collapsed back against the pillow as he went feral on you, making you cum on his face.

Bradley kissed your lips, hovering over you like he was about to do some pushups. "What did I do to deserve road head?" he whispered, nudging your nose with his until you were smiling. "Thought we would wait until we got home. Maybe make that video? But damn... you got me off good in the Bronco."

You ran your fingers gently through his hair. "You're the best. You're letting me throw a Halloween party. You're planning our honeymoon. You talked to me the other day about the stuff from your past that makes you a little embarrassed. Even though it shouldn't, Roo. But you didn't shut me out."

"I don't want to shut you out, Sweetheart. You always make me feel so much better." He eased himself down so that he was resting against your chest. "Now promise Daddy you'll buy whatever you want for our honeymoon tomorrow."

You giggled. "Promise."

"And promise Daddy you'll send some photos while you're shopping." He nipped along your breasts as your fingers wound in his hair.

You thought about what you could send to him while he was playing golf and drinking with the guys. "Promise. But it might mess up your golf game."

Bradley groaned against you. "My golf game is already bad. Just fuck it up more, Baby Girl."

-------------------------

Covered a lot of emotions in this one. Also making a lot of promises. Also getting closer to his deployment.

PART 13

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

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@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[zydrateacademy]

Current Activities in ESO #7

A lot of my gameplay has been catchup by day, RP by night.

I had a decent windfall of selling a chunk of crowns for 19mil gold, and I've spent the bulk of that decorating several households to serve as heist targets for thief-based RP with variable difficulty. I mentioned that in the last post.

I was trying to conserve my last few mil to buy and decorate the upcoming Merryvine villa in Gold Road. However I kept getting into gearing and re-gearing old and new alts to make them playable. Some of my older alts had a far too hefty reliance on Briarheart and Hundings when the new(ish) Order's Wrath set for crit is now the go-to baby. I set up one of my arcanists as a tank and following a build online got incredibly expensive, utilizing those runes that cost ~90k each (they buff all three stats). That tank set is stupidly well geared now, but I still generally prefer healing. I've been slowly but surely trying to gear up a lot of my "most used" alts for double duty. DPS in overland, questing, zone clearing, etc, but having a heal/tank set for faster queues and generally having more to offer my roster than others.

Exception being perhaps my werewolf orc, whom I've retooled with Oakensoul. She has some insane light attack crits and can almost braindead her gameplay but she's so much more viable than the basic bow/bow bitch that threw cliff racers at people.

I've discovered I don't much care for B/B builds anymore except in one scenario; Battlegrounds. It's fun to plug away with poison-based arrows, whittling down enemy HP bars while it takes them several seconds to figure out where all that damage is coming from. Sure I get spotted and gunned down like I usually do, I'm not invisible, but it's fun to join already in-progress fights and plug away before they realize where that damage is coming from.

An exception to this exception is that my main necromancer. The class just isn't very fun to play at all. Our main sources of damage are all deeply flawed. Their biggest his is the blastbones skill that every Necro build uses but it takes a full 3 seconds to even leave the ground. By that time the trash pack might be dead already, or against single target bosses that's 3 seconds of not doing very much else. You have a skeleton pet (usually archer, I don't even know what the other morph is because nobody uses it) that only lasts 16 seconds and only shoots every so often, but mostly serves as another corpse to use once it goes down. Then there's the corpse-based laser beam that's very awkward to use and position reliant, and in certain boss fights your position may matter more than the laser beam. So that's another DPS loss.

I couldn't even play melee necro because you spend your whole rotation summoning blastbones, throwing the skull, or using some other skill that I found myself not swinging my weapons at all. Just a clunky cooldown chase. Gross.

The good thing is, she has a functional heal kit so that's another queue in the bag usually. Not as good as my arcanist healer whom is amazing, but still feels better to play than any kind of DPS.

On an RP standpoint, I've joined and left a couple of RP guilds. Well, more on the cusp of being kicked before just quitting to maintain my own dignity.

I won't name any names but it was a guild based on the Brotherhood. I have an assassin character and wanted to put her to use. They had this fun little system where they had a discord bot that would spit out a target, custom added. It gave more variance to overworld stabbing because it feels like base-game DB radiants just send you to the same six places over and over. So it was fun to get a change in scenery, and even helped push my assassin girl to collect a few wayshrines from lesser-seen towns. It also tied in their promotion system. Normally I wouldn't like PvE achievements leaking into RP promotions but it was a fun thing to do. The guild was also heavily hybridized, they had a lot of their membership that don't RP at all.

I found this culture to be a bit taxing. They had this strangest system of using local chat for OOC and only RPing in emotes, which I have never seen before (in any RP setting, ever). They claimed it was for filtering purposes.

There was also a jarring moment where, after claiming I was doing OOC movements, went around to take OOC screenshots of their promotion event. I have a reshade and screenshot helper mod to help me get very cinematic shots but while my UI was hidden apparently I was getting yelled at for being on the main stage where all of the officers were. I had already specified I was OOC but they claimed I was "breaking the sanctity of the ceremony". So my first day in there, it felt as though I had joined a guild of people that were incapable of keeping their attention on anything specific. Can't differentiate any posts between IC and OOC, and can't handle a crouched, hiding character in a corner taking cool screenshots of your proceedings.

I was in this guild for a solid three weeks or so but eventually an officer contacted me about there having been multiple complaints against me. It felt like this post's situation all over again, though the officer here was significantly more diplomatic than that link. I just got the "I've gotten complaints about you" vibe when a large portion of this guild barely interacted with me at all to know otherwise.

Basically my style or personality was conflicting with people. Naturally I never got any specifics or names so I couldn't defend myself properly. According to this officer my previously mentioned conflicts about the way their do their RP, I was trying to set my standards as "THE" standard. While I was in fact, trying to make conversation and understanding their way a bit better. But it rubbed some people the wrong way. I decided instead of being shadow-shunned by several people I would just leave. The options were to shut my own personality down and be much more silent in the guild (which defeats the fucking purpose of RP as a hobby), or continue to RP and interact with a guild where I know there's several people purposefully avoiding interaction with my character because they didn't like me as a player. I just can't really handle being in a guild where I know most people don't want to interact with me. Or is it most? Or is it just two or three complainers? I have no idea! Because the officers that have these conversations never tell me!

This happened before in another guild I quite liked. Though a while ago, back when I was much more active in 2021. I liked that guild, its systems, but the officer of the 'roguey' sub-faction in the guild just decided he didn't like how I spoke to him (completely ICly, mind you) and chastised me for that.

And much like that guild from three years ago, this Dark Brotherhood one wasn't all bad. In some cases I'd even recommend it to people, but it would come with a few asterisks and extra thoughts on the matter to those who would care to hear it.

Kinda put me off for a couple days. I'm not really sure how to adjust my own self when approaching a future RP guild to replace my lost 5th slot. Do I just... talk less? It's certainly some food for thought.

[estatedekho04]

Plots for sale in Kandi Hyderabad

Plots for Sale in Kandi, Hyderabad: A Guide to Your Future Home

Ah, Hyderabad! The city of pearls, biryani, and, well, an increasingly competitive real estate market. If you’re here, you’ve probably heard the buzz about Kandi. Nestled in the vicinity of Hyderabad, Kandi is emerging as a sought-after destination for homebuyers and investors alike. So, buckle up as we take a humorous and conversational journey through the ins and outs of buying plots in Kandi, Hyderabad.

Plots for sale in Kandi Hyderabad

Why Kandi?

You might wonder, why Kandi? Why not some other bustling part of Hyderabad? Well, imagine this: you wake up to the sound of chirping birds instead of honking cars, you sip your morning coffee with a view of open spaces, and yet, you're just a stone's throw away from the city’s amenities. Sounds like a dream, right?

The Perks of Kandi

Peaceful Living: Kandi offers a serene environment, making it a perfect spot for those who crave tranquility away from the city's chaos.

Accessibility: Despite its peaceful vibe, Kandi is well-connected to Hyderabad, making your commute a breeze.

Investment Potential: The real estate market in Kandi is booming. With rapid development and increasing demand, your plot is likely to appreciate in value.

Types of Plots Available

When it comes to plots in Kandi, variety is the spice of life. Here’s a quick rundown:

Residential Plots: Ideal for building your dream home.

Commercial Plots: Perfect for setting up a business or investment property.

Agricultural Plots: If you have a green thumb or dream of a farmhouse, this is your pick.

Location, Location, Location

In real estate, location is everything. Kandi scores high on this front, thanks to its strategic positioning. Here’s a table to give you a better idea:

Place

Distance from Kandi

Gachibowli

25 km

Hi-Tech City

30 km

Financial District

28 km

Rajiv Gandhi International Airport

50 km

Infrastructure and Amenities

Kandi isn’t just about open plots and scenic views; it’s about a well-rounded lifestyle. The area boasts impressive infrastructure and amenities:

Educational Institutions: With schools and colleges popping up, Kandi is an educational hub in the making.

Healthcare Facilities: Access to top-notch healthcare is crucial, and Kandi doesn’t disappoint.

Shopping and Entertainment: From local markets to modern malls, Kandi offers plenty of options.

A Day in the Life in Kandi

Imagine a typical day in Kandi. You wake up to a peaceful morning, have your breakfast while enjoying the view of lush greenery, and then head out for a jog in one of the many parks. Later, you drop your kids at a reputed school nearby, swing by a cafe for a quick coffee, and then drive to your office in Hyderabad. In the evening, you return to the tranquility of Kandi, maybe do a bit of gardening, and end your day with a relaxing walk under the starlit sky. Sounds idyllic, doesn’t it?

Investment Tips and Tricks

Buying a plot is a significant investment. Here are some tips to ensure you make the best decision:

Research: Do thorough research about the area, current market trends, and future development plans.

Legal Checks: Ensure the plot has clear titles and is free from legal disputes.

Budget: Set a budget and stick to it. Factor in additional costs like registration, taxes, and development charges.

Visit the Site: Pictures can be deceptive. Visit the plot to get a real feel of the location and surroundings.

Personal Anecdote: My Plot Hunt in Kandi

Let me share a little story from my own experience. A few years ago, my spouse and I decided it was time to invest in a plot. We were torn between several locations but something about Kandi kept pulling us back. Perhaps it was the perfect blend of serenity and connectivity. One fine Saturday, we packed some sandwiches, grabbed our sunnies, and headed out to Kandi. As we walked through one of the plots, envisioning our future home, I tripped over a rock. My spouse had a good laugh while I dusted myself off, but in that moment, we knew – this was the place for us. A few months later, we were proud owners of a beautiful plot in Kandi.

Common FAQs

1. Is Kandi a good place for investment?

Absolutely! With its rapid development and growing demand, Kandi offers excellent investment potential.

2. What is the price range of plots in Kandi?

Prices vary based on the type of plot and its location. On average, residential plots range from INR 20,000 to INR 30,000 per square yard.

3. Are there any reputed schools in Kandi?

Yes, Kandi is home to several reputed schools and educational institutions, making it a great place for families.

4. How far is Kandi from Hyderabad’s main areas?

Kandi is well-connected to major areas like Gachibowli, Hi-Tech City, and the Financial District, all within a 30 km radius.

Final Thoughts

Kandi, Hyderabad, is not just a place; it's a lifestyle choice. Whether you're looking to build your dream home, invest in a commercial property, or simply enjoy the tranquility of suburban living, Kandi has something for everyone. So why wait? Dive into the world of real estate in Kandi and discover the endless possibilities that await you.

Happy plot hunting! And remember, the best investment on earth is earth itself.

Visit estatedekho.com for more information about Plots for Sale in Kandi Hyderabad Telangana. Estatedekho is an online platform that offers sellers, potential clients, buyers verified plots, and professional agents at service.

[estatedekho26]

Open Plots for Sale in Kandi Hyderabad Telangana

Plots for Sale in Kandi, Hyderabad: A Guide to Your Future Home

Ah, Hyderabad! The city of pearls, biryani, and, well, an increasingly competitive real estate market. If you’re here, you’ve probably heard the buzz about Kandi. Nestled in the vicinity of Hyderabad, Kandi is emerging as a sought-after destination for homebuyers and investors alike. So, buckle up as we take a humorous and conversational journey through the ins and outs of buying plots in Kandi, Hyderabad.

Why Kandi?

You might wonder, why Kandi? Why not some other bustling part of Hyderabad? Well, imagine this: you wake up to the sound of chirping birds instead of honking cars, you sip your morning coffee with a view of open spaces, and yet, you're just a stone's throw away from the city’s amenities. Sounds like a dream, right?

The Perks of Kandi

Peaceful Living: Kandi offers a serene environment, making it a perfect spot for those who crave tranquility away from the city's chaos.

Accessibility: Despite its peaceful vibe, Kandi is well-connected to Hyderabad, making your commute a breeze.

Investment Potential: The real estate market in Kandi is booming. With rapid development and increasing demand, your plot is likely to appreciate in value.

Types of Plots Available

When it comes to plots in Kandi, variety is the spice of life. Here’s a quick rundown:

Residential Plots: Ideal for building your dream home.

Commercial Plots: Perfect for setting up a business or investment property.

Agricultural Plots: If you have a green thumb or dream of a farmhouse, this is your pick.

Location, Location, Location

In real estate, location is everything. Kandi scores high on this front, thanks to its strategic positioning. Here’s a table to give you a better idea:

Place

Distance from Kandi

Gachibowli

25 km

Hi-Tech City

30 km

Financial District

28 km

Rajiv Gandhi International Airport

50 km

Infrastructure and Amenities

Kandi isn’t just about open plots and scenic views; it’s about a well-rounded lifestyle. The area boasts impressive infrastructure and amenities:

Educational Institutions: With schools and colleges popping up, Kandi is an educational hub in the making.

Healthcare Facilities: Access to top-notch healthcare is crucial, and Kandi doesn’t disappoint.

Shopping and Entertainment: From local markets to modern malls, Kandi offers plenty of options.

A Day in the Life in Kandi

Imagine a typical day in Kandi. You wake up to a peaceful morning, have your breakfast while enjoying the view of lush greenery, and then head out for a jog in one of the many parks. Later, you drop your kids at a reputed school nearby, swing by a cafe for a quick coffee, and then drive to your office in Hyderabad. In the evening, you return to the tranquility of Kandi, maybe do a bit of gardening, and end your day with a relaxing walk under the starlit sky. Sounds idyllic, doesn’t it?

Investment Tips and Tricks

Buying a plot is a significant investment. Here are some tips to ensure you make the best decision:

Research: Do thorough research about the area, current market trends, and future development plans.

Legal Checks: Ensure the plot has clear titles and is free from legal disputes.

Budget: Set a budget and stick to it. Factor in additional costs like registration, taxes, and development charges.

Visit the Site: Pictures can be deceptive. Visit the plot to get a real feel of the location and surroundings.

Personal Anecdote: My Plot Hunt in Kandi

Let me share a little story from my own experience. A few years ago, my spouse and I decided it was time to invest in a plot. We were torn between several locations but something about Kandi kept pulling us back. Perhaps it was the perfect blend of serenity and connectivity. One fine Saturday, we packed some sandwiches, grabbed our sunnies, and headed out to Kandi. As we walked through one of the plots, envisioning our future home, I tripped over a rock. My spouse had a good laugh while I dusted myself off, but in that moment, we knew – this was the place for us. A few months later, we were proud owners of a beautiful plot in Kandi.

Common FAQs

1. Is Kandi a good place for investment?

Absolutely! With its rapid development and growing demand, Kandi offers excellent investment potential.

2. What is the price range of plots in Kandi?

Prices vary based on the type of plot and its location. On average, residential plots range from INR 20,000 to INR 30,000 per square yard.

3. Are there any reputed schools in Kandi?

Yes, Kandi is home to several reputed schools and educational institutions, making it a great place for families.

4. How far is Kandi from Hyderabad’s main areas?

Kandi is well-connected to major areas like Gachibowli, Hi-Tech City, and the Financial District, all within a 30 km radius.

Final Thoughts

Kandi, Hyderabad, is not just a place; it's a lifestyle choice. Whether you're looking to build your dream home, invest in a commercial property, or simply enjoy the tranquility of suburban living, Kandi has something for everyone. So why wait? Dive into the world of real estate in Kandi and discover the endless possibilities that await you.

Happy plot hunting! And remember, the best investment on earth is earth itself.

Visit estatedekho.com for more information about Plots for Sale in Kandi Hyderabad Telangana. Estatedekho is an online platform that offers sellers, potential clients, buyers verified plots, and professional agents at service.

[inthemytdl]

I posted 70 times in 2022

That's 53 more posts than 2021!

26 posts created (37%)

44 posts reblogged (63%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@robiinbuckley

@lady-of-the-spirit

@maya-hawke

@fyeahspiderman

@lanadelreyscokewhor3

I tagged 39 of my posts in 2022

Only 44% of my posts had no tags

#mcu!peter - 11 posts

#peter parker blurbs - 7 posts

#peter parker fics - 7 posts

#peter parker oneshot - 7 posts

#peter parker x reader - 6 posts

#peter parker x y/n - 6 posts

#peter parker x you - 6 posts

#peter parker x gn!reader - 6 posts

#peter parker x gender neutral reader - 6 posts

#peter parker oneshots - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 107 characters

#because when he forgets to pack a lunch or iron his shirt he would appreciate someone else doing it for him

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Made For You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter’s new job means less time spent with you

Word Count: 1370

The door rings as you push it open, entering the sub shop down the street from your housing building.

Glancing around, you walk to the counter, press a bell, and wait for someone to serve you, taking note of students who are enjoying their lunch breaks.

“I’m coming!” Peter shouts, exiting what you assume is a storage room then grabbing a fresh pair of gloves. “Hi, what can I get you—“ He looks up, realizing it’s you. “Y/n, what are you doing here?!”

“I want a sandwich,” you reply, nonchalantly, and he frowns, crossing his arms. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! I need something to eat while I hang out alone.”

Peter groans at your histrionics. He hates having to cancel your plans, but between school and Spider-Man, this job is the only thing paying his bills. Not to mention, buying his suit parts and foods that aren’t ramen.

"You didn't even give me time to react," you say, annoyed by his indifference, "I planned everything out just for you to cancel."

Peter sighs, feeling a pinch of guilt for disappointing you, but he's snapped out of his thoughts when something thuds in the storage room.

“I’m sorry, but my boss is back there,” he motions at the door beside him, “and I’m supposed to be working, so if you're not buying anything then—“

“I said I want a sandwich,” you remind, curtly, and he sighs, putting his gloves on then grabbing a sheet to build your sub on. “What bread?”

You look to the side, gazing at the list of bread options before answering. “Italian.” Peter nods, retrieving the bread then cutting it open. “Size?”

“Foot-long with chicken teriyaki,” you reply, reading off the large overhead menu. “Buffalos better,” he murmurs, placing your teriyaki on the sliced bread as you frown. “Why didn’t you say that before?”

He rolls his eyes, patting the meat down. “I’m not making you a new one.”

“Fine,” you pout, examining the toppings, “but add lettuce and tomatoes, and cheddar cheese with mayonnaise.”

He nods, adding your toppings then squirting mayo on top. “Pickles?”

“No, those are gross,” you say, scrunching your face as he feigns offense. “You’re gross.”

“Parker!”

Peter swings his head back, his heart racing as he spots his boss standing in the doorway. There’s no way she heard him, right?

“Will you work faster?! We’ve got other customers!”

The both of you look to the side, noticing the line of customers waiting for their orders to be taken.

“Sorry, I’ll get on it,” he grunts as his boss returns to the storage room, and you assume that isn’t what he wanted to say. “Do you want it toasted?”

You nod and he squeezes your sandwich together before shoving it in the toaster. “I’ll be right back.” He leaves you at the cash register, going to take another order.

Waiting for your own, you watch as Peter works from the other end of the counter. He seems good at his job. He knows all the bread and topping choices, which is expected but impressive. You only ever remember your own order.

A couple minutes go by before Peter returns, leaving his previous customer to take your sandwich out of the toaster. After, he wraps it in paper, handing it to you before pressing a few buttons on the cash register.

“That’ll be $7.50," he says and you crease your brows, examining the menu’s prices. That's three dollars less than the printed price.

Peter notices your expression and rolls his eyes.

See the full post

99 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

#4

Stickier Than Sap

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter has an off day where he sticks to everything

Word Count: 2500

“Morning.” Bucky greets, turning on your infamous coffee machine: the one everyone likes most. While he brews a new batch, Peter winks at you, playfully, and you roll your eyes. He quickly looks away, biting his lip to prevent a smile from plastering on his face.

You take a seat at the kitchen island when Bucky realizes Peter has his favorite mug—the one he refuses to let anyone else use—so he grabs it, creasing his brows when it stalls in the boy’s hand.

“Kid,” he calls, and Peter hums, facing him, “let go.”

“Oh, sorry.” He stretches his arm out, allowing Bucky to grab the mug, but it still doesn’t budge. Noticing their predicament, you stifle a laugh, causing the soldier to look up at you.

“Alright, ha-ha. Now would you let go?” He pulls harder this time, yanking Peter forward. “I-I’m not doing it on purpose,” he explains, finding his balance as Bucky grunts. “Just let go!”

Peter shakes his hand—hard—but the mug still follows him.

Rolling your eyes, you stand. “Here.” You grab his shoulder with one hand, reaching for the mug with your other when he drops it, and it instantly shatters on the tiled floor.

Gulping, Peter glances at Bucky who grunts, leaving the room—his coffee craving immediately gone.

“What was that?” You ask, and he shrugs, crouching to collect the ceramic pieces as you gaze at him. His curls are a tousled mess, and you can tell he only ran a hand through them this morning, but you're snapped out of your thoughts when he winces.

“You okay?” You crouch down to his level, gazing at his eyes when his breath hitches. You’re just inches away from each other. He can smell your body wash which you barred him from using.

“Yeah,” he puts his finger in his mouth, “just a cut.”

“Well, duh,” you say, standing, “you’re supposed to do that with gloves on—you’re not invincible you know.”

You grab a quick snack from the cabinet, leaving Peter in the kitchen as you head back to your room.

For the rest of the day, similar events occur. Anytime you walk into a room, something sticks to Peter. He’d be watching TV in the common room, and as soon as he saw you, the remote would stick to his hand. The same happened when he was doing homework. Only this time he pulled the keys off his laptop, and no amount of shaking would free them from him. But all you did was laugh. Every time. Tears collected in your eyes when he tried to unstick himself, only to make things worse. He tried to play it off, but each time it happened, it became more annoying and even more dangerous.

—

“Underoos! How’s my favorite arachnid doing?”

“I’m your only arachnid,” Peter corrects, entering the main laboratory, and Tony quickly notices his slumped shoulders and knitted brows.

“Widow exists which, by the way, don’t tell her I said that.”

Peter nods, heading to his corner of the lab as Tony grabs a screwdriver, undoing a bolt in his suit. Lab work is one of the ways he clears his mind: a habit Peter has picked up.

As they work, Tony sneaks glances at Peter, each time expecting him to ask about his project, but he doesn't. In fact, he barely looks in his direction. Instead, he focuses on upgrading his web shooters. But Tony ignores it, trying not to pry, however, eventually, the silence grows deafening and the tension too thick.

“Alright, what’s up?” He asks, gazing at Peter who glances at him and shrugs. “Nuh uh, don’t give me that—spill.”

“It’s nothing,” Peter says and Tony groans, signaling for him to say more. “It’s just… I’ve been having some issues with my powers.” He lifts his hands, examining them like a blueprint. “I-I keep sticking to things! Like this morning when I broke Bucky’s mug.”

Tony grimaces, knowing how much he loved it.

“And earlier today, I ruined my laptop and almost ripped my shirt in front of Y/n—“

“Kid,” he throws his hand up, “I don’t want anything to do with your hormonal stickiness.”

Frowning, Peter drops his head. If he can just figure out what's messing with his powers, then things can go back to normal. But radioactive spiders aren’t supposed to exist, so nobody gets them, and no one can help him—not even Tony, who points at him.

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104 notes - Posted February 13, 2022

#3

Leveled Up

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Spider-Man gets tricky when you’re ready to take it to the next level and he’s not

Word Count: 1910

The first time you met Spider-Man you were sitting on the fire escape outside your window when you saw him climbing up the side of your building. His odd bug-like demeanor sent a scream roaring through your throat, which sent him falling down two stories. 

He never told you what he was doing there, but you had your suspicions. You had so many you sent a plethora of questions his way. He was surprisingly willing to answer some but avoided personal questions like his age. You figured he was around yours with his sometimes-squeaky voice and constant pop-culture references. You never thought they would bring you to this moment now. 

“Can I?” Your fingers tapped on his shoulders where his mask met his suit. You had never seen Spider-Man’s face before. No one had. But you had been friends for so long tonight felt like the right time—when was peering into your eyes as you looked into his white lenses. It was strange, but you had gotten used to them: the constant barrier between you and him. It kept your relationship at bay and ached your heart. You slowly lifted his mask like you were peeling away wallpaper when he grabbed your arms.

“Wait…”

You peered into his lenses for a response you clearly wouldn’t receive, so you dropped your hands and faced the night sky ahead of you. You could see the street that led to Duke’s, a knock-off of Delmar’s, according to Spider-Man, from the top of your apartment building.

“Can I at least get your name?”

The silence filled with the sound of his heavy breaths. You knew the suit didn’t cut off his oxygen supply so he must have been nervous. Though he had no reason to be. He was the one hiding behind red and blue lycra.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He whispered after a minute of gruesome silence. “It’s not safe.”

“Bullshit.” That was the same excuse he used every time you asked about his personal life and it infuriated you. The way everything you knew about him could be found in a newspaper. Each story he told was one you heard hours prior on the news—minus the witty commentary. Who knew Spider-Man was so into pizza? Everyone that knew Joe from Bleecker street’s pizza shop. Who knew Iron-Man was his favorite superhero? Everyone on Twitter. Nothing you knew about him was personal. It could all be found online. “New York’s the safest it’s ever been—this is about you.” 

“Actually, Linda from 3rd street almost got purse-napped the other day and—“ He rambled on about crime rates, anything he could to deflect the situation. Just like always. 

“We’ve known each other for how long.” You interrupted and he quickly replied. “Eight months and 28 days—give or take a day.”

“Eight months and I don’t know anything about you.”

“That’s not true—“

“And everything I do know everyone else does too!”

“No… I told you about that churro I had the other day—no one knew that.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, swiping the screen to reveal a photo of him eating a cylinder shaped cinnamon stick. It had shown up on your Twitter feed after getting half a million likes.

“What?!” His lenses contracted as he peered at the image. “That’s my worst angle!”

You chewed your lips, refusing to give him the laugh he was so obviously looking for. You didn’t even smile. His unreadable expression made you bite your lips so hard a warm metallic swarmed in your mouth.

“Y/n,” he said, lifting a clothed hand to your face. His finger brushed on your lip and you pulled back when you looked into his cold lenses. Affection was always weird when you didn’t know who it was coming from.

“Don’t call me that.” You sneered, pocketing your phone as you stood. His lenses contracted.

“What?”

“If I don’t get to know your name then you don’t get to know mine.” It was petty, but nothing about your situation was fair. You told him everything. When you talked about your parents, he mentioned Stark Industries; when you gushed about your dream life, he raved about web-shooters and cameras; and when you bared your deepest secrets to him, he unveiled his affinity for board games. Because god knows he couldn’t find anything better to say, right?

“But I already know it…”

“Then don’t use it!” Your voice cracked as you continued. “A-and if I don’t get to see you then you don’t get to see me.” You b-lined past the patio tables and plant pots to the door that led into your apartment building. You hesitated when you grabbed the door knob, slowly twisting it as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wished to every star above that he would say something. All he had to do was ask you to stay and you would. 

“I-it’s Peter!” You stopped in your tracks, turning around. “What?” 

“My name. It’s Peter.”

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105 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

#2

Sneaky as a Spider

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Only one thing could ever help Peter sleep

Warnings: insomnia | WC: 720

You rub your eyes while your phone buzzes on your nightstand. The clock next to it shines a bright red reading: 12:05 A.M. You glance to the side, your eyes skipping over the moonlight shining through your window when you grab your phone, spotting a text from Peter that reads: “can i come over?” 

The two of you had gotten into the habit of sleeping at each other's apartments. It started when you fell asleep studying at his place and quickly grew into sleepovers over the phone and in-person when you could. You didn’t know it at the time, but Peter had an easier time falling asleep when you were around. 

Your eyes glance over the text again, slowly shutting but a tap on your window scares you awake. 

You quickly stand. The hairs on your arms following beat as your heart jumps and a blur shifts behind your window curtain. You carefully pull it open, spotting Peter. 

“Seriously?!” You whisper, opening the window as he steps inside.

“I told you I was coming,” he says, discarding his backpack on the floor as you rub your temples. 

You never understood Peter’s fondness for heights. Sure, your apartment’s only on the third floor, but any sane person would go through the front door.

“No, you asked if you could, and I didn’t respond.”

“Same thing,” he says, changing out of his jeans and into the pajamas stuffed in his backpack.

“You can’t be here.” You lock your bedroom door then sit on your bed; your head leaning against the headboard.

Your parents would kill you if they knew you snuck someone into your room. Their apartment.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs, zipping his bag after shoving his clothes inside. 

You hated how hard it was for him to fall asleep, but he only ever acted like it was normal.

“You should really do something about that—talk to someone.”

“Where's the fun in that?” He asks, and even in the dark, you know he has a cheeky smile plastered on his face. 

Peter liked to joke around a lot. You came to see it as a defense mechanism; his way of dealing with things. But that wasn’t the only thing you learned.

After a few sleepovers, you quickly realized he wasn’t a deep sleeper. He always seemed to have his guard up; worried about something. He never told you what it was but you assumed it had to do with college applications. He really wanted to get into MIT and admissions had gotten harder this year. You wish he would talked to someone about it. Someone that wasn’t you—a professional.

“Maybe you should talk to aunt May,” you suggest, blinking away a tired tear while he rocks from his heels to his toes. 

“Or… you could let me stay over.”

You were his favorite form of comfort. He already tried reading books and watching boring films to fall asleep. He even meditated once. But nothing made him fall asleep faster than being with you. You always fell asleep before him, telling him off when he shuffled too much. But he found it amusing. Your groggy swears and soft breaths lulled him to bed. He hoped things would stay this way—you and him—minus the insomnia and distressing dreams he had every now and then. But even then, maybe it’d be worth it if you stayed around. 

“Fine,” you say, lifting your duvet as Peter crawls in beside you. You’re too tired to argue and Peter too stubborn. 

“But seriously, sleep this time,” you scold, referencing the time you two stayed up guessing between real and fake objects to see which were actually cake.

“I will. Scouts honor.” He salutes to your ceiling and you roll your eyes. 

“And you have to sneak out before my parents wake up,” you add, “quietly.”

“Sneaky as a spider,” he says, and you nod at the odd saying before slowly shutting your eyes.

You ignore the feeling of Peter’s gaze, easily falling asleep as your breath hitches and finds a steady rhythm. One thought playing in your mind while you drift into oblivion: sneaky as a spider. 

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233 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

In a Minute

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: trying to wake a sleepy peter

Word Count: 560

——————————

“Pst.” You whispered, staring at Peter’s bare back as he laid beside you snoring softly. It was a quarter past one and you had woken up hours ago. Peter, on the other hand, was still fast asleep. His hand under a white pillow as he slept on his stomach. His back rising and falling with soft breaths.

You decided to let him sleep in two hours ago. During which you managed to shower, eat breakfast, and zoom through a couple cartoon episodes. Now you were bored, and Peter was still asleep. 

It was getting ridiculous.

His snores grew louder and you huffed out an annoyed breath, rolling your eyes when an idea came to mind. 

Laying down, you shimmied under the duvet before accidentally flicking a hand at him. It slapped his back with a loud clap! One you were sure would wake him. 

He wiggled before squeezing his pillow and finding a comfortable position—still asleep.

Seriously? You rolled your eyes, heaving in a heavy breath before another idea came to mind. 

Slowly, you turned so that your back was facing him, then scooted backwards, invading his side of the bed and stumbling onto his arm. He pulled it back—still asleep—and you continued to shimmy onto his side of the bed. 

“Y/n…” He groaned. His raspy voice was muffled by his pillow, which he held onto tight as you pushed him closer to the edge of the bed. 

You bit your lip to hide a laugh and continued scooting. His groans filled the air.

“Y/n!” He said. This time louder with more bass to it.

He was dangling off the bed about to fall when his eyes snapped open.

“Seriously?!” He lifted his head, looking over your body when you shut your eyes. “You have all that space—why do you need mine?!”

You could hear the irritation in his tired voice. If the clock on your nightstand wasn’t shining a bright 1:18 P.M., you would’ve felt bad. But it was way past sleeping time and you were bored.

“Sorry.” You said, turning to face him. The guilt in your voice lasted only three seconds before you were back to your cheerful self. “But now that you’re up—we should do something.” 

His eyes were already shutting. 

You slapped his arm and they fluttered back open, his brown irises gazing at you under lowered eyelids. 

“If I weren’t so tired right now I’d say you did that on purpose.” 

“What?”

His lips inched upwards. “Try to murder me in my sleep.”

You groaned. “Of course I did!” The thought of staying in bed for another minute was dreadful. “And if you don’t get up, I’ll finish the job.”

“May will be sad.” He said, snuggling into his pillow.

“She’ll understand.”

He reached a hand out, laying it on your hip. You felt his fingers strum along your skin. “Fine.” He pulled you into him. His arms were wrapped around your back, holding you tight. “In a minute.”

“Peter…” You warned, but he was already exhaling soft breaths. His head was nuzzled into your shoulder and you weren’t sure how he could breathe from his position but somehow he made it work. 

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498 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[macnevercries]

You're Mine

Warnings- stalker/yandere tendencies, somnophilia, fingering, male masturbation, penetration, dubcon/noncon, squirting, breeding kink, etc

WC- ~1.7k

This is for @ultimate-astridwriting ‘s  Watch It Creep collab!! (thank you for letting me participate ily)

Dabi had never been one for shopping, going out in public just to have people gawk and point at him was never very appealing. He didn’t need new clothes, there was no one he wanted to impress. Except you. When you went shopping, he couldn't help but love it.

Your constant late night trips became his favorite time of the week. Every time you get new clothes you would blast your music and try on all different outfits with the new pieces you had just bought. Dancing and singing in the mirror, feeling yourself up. Watching you strip and pull clothes snug over your curves over and over never failed to get his dick hard.

On goes a pink tank top and low rise skinny jeans. You take off your bra and brush your nipples over the shirt, looking in the mirror to see them peek through the thin fabric covering your chest. Off goes that outfit, your flawless tits on display, perked by the touch of your own hands. You bend over to pick up a dress to try on, the black thong you wear riding up your ass and giving Dabi an ideal view.

He has a chair pulled up right in front of his window, the perfect view down to your apartment, directly across and down one floor from his. The buildings in your area are packed tight, no more than 10 or 20 feet between the both of you. He takes a seat, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his jeans as he hears your music blast even louder through the thin walls and small expanse of grass that separates your buildings.

He wishes he had a teleportation quirk, that he could hold you in his arms instead of desperately attaching himself to your vulnerable moments. So innocent, you never pull your blinds closed. He often wonders how an angel like you could exist so close to him, in his neighborhood, in his world.

His cock slaps against his stomach, coming to life when he glances up, seeing you peeling off a tight dress. If only it were his hands, his everything pressed up against you, guiding you in your dance while you grind back onto him, hips rolling against his. His rough and scarred hands pump up and down his cock, spreading the minimal precum, the pain of the dry tug spurring him on.

When he glances up from his lap you're putting your pajamas back on, leaving your room to go get ready for bed. Not to worry, he has more material to get off to. His eyes search his room, looking over the various photographs of you hanging on his walls. He’s taken many over time, mostly just normal pictures of you in your apartment or around the neighborhood. But even the most average photos of you entranced him. How could they not, you were just so beautiful.

His eyes run over the photo taped to his wall on the right. He has it placed right next to his window so he can see it when you walk into a different room in the middle of your “session”. The photo depicts you licking dripping ice cream off of your glowing skin on a hot day. Your face is a mix of innocent and erotic, your arms squished together slightly, pushing your breasts up through your low cut shirt. To Dabi this photo is not only perfect because it was captured at the right moment, it’s perfect because it's you.

He tugs harder at his cock, spitting on it roughly and imagining you on your knees for him. How you would wrap your hand around it, cup his balls, swirl your tongue on the tip paying special attention to his piercings all while keeping your eyes glued on him. How he would grab a fistful of your hair and shove your nose to his hips, feeling the contractions of your gagging throat hugging him just right. He’s panting in seconds, making eye contact with the photo one more time before spilling into his hand. He gives a few more pumps, milking himself. He leans over to his desk, wiping his hand off on the matted washcloth that lies there just for this, the one that hasn't been washed in weeks.

When he stands, he sees you walk back into your room with only a small towel wrapped around your body and a face mask, relaxingly flopping onto your bed with your phone. The sight is almost enough to get him going again but he restrains himself, after all he would see you later tonight.

--

Your door creaks, swinging open into your dark apartment. Dabi gets his lock picker from the door handle and shoves it in the pocket of his pants. He slips silently into your living room, he never stumbles, he knows your apartment like the back of his hand. How could he not when you're so obviously begging for him to come over? He has to listen to his baby’s needs.

Your room is down the hallway to the left, right across the bathroom and 14.6ft from your couch. Your room’s door is open, like always. He sits on the edge of your bed, the dip of his weight on the mattress making you roll slightly towards him. He reaches for your face, your skin so soft against his burnt hand. You stir slightly when he tucks your hair behind your ear and wipes the drool from your lip, but he knows you won't wake up, you never do.

Your blankets only cover one of your legs, you must have been too hot. But this is better for both of you because it gives Dabi a nice view of your night attire. Your legs bare, all the way up to your hips. Your unblemished skin begging to be marked by him. You always wear an oversized t-shirt, probably stolen from one of your many ex boyfriends. And only some nights do you wear panties. Dabi counts his luck as he slowly moves your sheets off of you, his breath taken away when he realizes tonight you aren't wearing any.

Your pussy glistens in the moonlight that filters in through your open window, you could never be bothered to buy curtains. Dabi can't resist the need to touch it, to touch you, to claim you. You were his, you just didn't know it yet.

His slender fingers slide through your folds, slightly pinching your clit to watch your pretty little hole twitch and clench at his touch. He slips one finger inside of you, it goes in easily with all of the slick that's gathered and begun to drip down to your thighs. You let out a small mewl when his finger curves to your g-spot, and he adds another for good measure. You never wake up though, you've always been a heavy sleeper.

But he needs you now, he wants you awake. So he kisses you gently, his mouth molding against yours with a softness he didn't know he was capable of. But soon need and lust take over. His soft kisses turn rough, teeth clashing and blood being drawn from your lip. You begin to wake up, he's causing too much commotion for you to stay asleep.

Your eyes blink open to meet his bright blue ones, panic beginning to set in your mind. You take a deep breath, preparing to scream for help but his hand is covering your mouth in an instant before you can even open it. He leans down to whisper in your ear with a gravelly tone.

“If you scream or make any noise, I’ll make sure you can never talk again”

His hand heats up just enough for you to know he’s not bluffing. All throughout his threats, his fingers never stop thrusting into you. Your tired mind is conflicted between fear and lust, you don't know which one to give in to. Your eyes widen and you nod, choosing to comply with him.

You let out a small moan, bucking your hips back against his hand. This causes the nastiest grin to spread across his face, his evil intent sparkling in his eyes.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nod feverishly, your brain not thinking straight. Dabi lets out a low groan at your eagerness, palming himself through his jeans. He begins to unzip them, undressing both himself and you until your bare skin presses against his. The piercings on his cock sting your skin, so cold against your sex.

He kisses your neck, down to your chest and across your torso. “I'm gonna make you feel so good”

He aligns his cock with you, shoving in his entire length in one go. The wind gets knocked out of you, you're breathless as he begins to fuck you at an ungodly pace, never waiting for you to adjust. He murmurs sweet nothings into your ears, kissing you sweetly as if you were in love. Tears begin to fall down your cheek but he licks them away, he knows you want him.

He fucks you harder, curling his hips into yours. The piercings lining his cock drag against your walls so nicely, the previously cold metal beginning to warm up from your shared heat.

“I bet you like that, don't you slut? Prancing around in front of your window every day for me to see. You know what you do to me. Thats why we are where we are right now; me fucking your tight hole and you taking it like the good little bitch you are.”

You moan at his words, his cock bruising your cervix so nicely. His hand reaches down to your clit, rubbing fast and hard circles against your sensitive nub. Your entire body shakes, clear liquid squirting out of you all over him. You grip him like a vice, milking him with your orgasm. He moans loudly, spilling thick white ropes and fucking them into your womb.

“Yeah, you fucking take it, youre mine”

He slows down after a minute, pulling out only to shove his fingers back into your abused hole, keeping his cum safe inside of you.

“You better hold that, I’ll be back”

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || PROUD

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, swearing and mentions of injuries, blood and death.

| form : imagine

| word count : 1574

| published : 18 november

| request : Aaaa,, I really love your Sukuna imagines! Can I request an Imagine where it’s related to ‘kind hearted’, the reader gets hurt and sukuna gets upset? Thank you so much! Keep up with the great work!! 💞🦦

| barista’s notes : let me admit this, i’m not confident with this imagine ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ i tried changing it a few times but i was really doubting myself every time and this was the result of it, so i’m so sorry if you don’t like it ʕ； •`ᴥ•´ʔ also i’m not really good with fight scenes so if there are any advices that can be given to me, thank you so much ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ i hope you love your classic cup of black coffee and come again soon!

To say that you were screwed was more than an understatement. 

Right now wasn’t the ideal situation to be in for any jujutsu sorcerer that wasn’t Gojo’s level.

At this moment and time, standing in front of you was a special grade curse.

What made the situation worse was that Kugisaki was separated from the whole group making the mission more complicated than it needed to be.

“Itadori! Fushiguro! Go find Kugisaki and find the exit to the building, I’ll keep the curse in place!” you demanded, as you knew you didn’t have much time to explain the risky plan you came up with.

“Are you crazy? It’s a special grade there is no way you could defeat it right now!” Fushiguro shouted, trying to know what was going on in your head, thinking that you were utterly crazy for what you just stated to him and his classmate.

“I don’t care! Look, it’s having fun and underestimating us meaning it will use weaker attacks on me, buying time shouldn’t be too hard, just give me a signal when you and Itadori are safe, okay?”

Looking at you with widen eyes, Fushiguro continued to look at you like you had gone completely insane before closing them to clear his mind. What you were saying had much sense in it. Compared to the remaining people in the room, you were the one that had the most potential to defeat the special grade curse if you could, even when you and him were both grade two sorcerers. 

“Okay,” Fushiguro muttered quietly - still reluctant to leave you - before turning around and grabbing Itadori to go along with your plan, leaving you completely alone to defend yourself.

Turning back around to look at your opponent, you reached to the side of your hip to grip on the halt of your katana before slowly pulling the sword out from its sheath. From what you could observe, this special grade wasn’t a normal special grade, there was no way it could be deemed one yet it was. From what was going on around you, the curse hadn’t been able to construct a complete Domain Expansion, more of an Innate Domain at best making you come to the conclusion that it must have eaten a cursed object at best to become as powerful as it is - most likely Sukuna’s finger for one example.

Lifting your sword in front of you, you aimed the pointed tip at your opponent before tilting your head to the side to see what else you could observe from your distance.

“Would cutting your head off look best or would cutting both of your arms first be more sufficient?”

Of course, the curse couldn’t reply to you leaving it to only physically answered you with an immense amount of curse energy forming within the palm of its hand, ready to throw it at you.

“Looks like your arms are the first thing I gotta get rid of,” you answered yourself, as you quickly dodging the attack, only to suddenly appear in front of your opponent, leaving yourself enough space to swing your sword down to fully slash its left arm off as you then went ahead and spun behind its body to slice off the other off before pulling yourself back to gain some distance away from the curse.

However, what you had completely forgotten was that special grade curses were able their curse energy to heal themselves, as the curse’s arms suddenly regenerated as if you didn’t cut them off seconds before.

“Damn, I should have gotten your head first ha?” you rhetorically questioned, before using your free hand to pull a long black chain out of your pocket and attaching one end to the hilt of your katana. “Let’s see how fast you can catch,” you commented, as you then threw your katana while aiming for it’s head, using your curse energy to increase the speed it was going at. However, much to your dismay the curse unexpectantly grabbed onto the metal blade, leaving you no choice but to let your curse energy slowly flow through the chain all the way up to the blade causing a large red orb form at the end, quickly exploding before the curse could even react to stop it.

Swiftly, you pulled the chain back so you could retrieve your sword only to then suddenly see the smoke clearing and a large wave of curse energy coming towards your direction.

“Shit!”

In sheer panic, you use your feet to push yourself to the right to move away from the blast before your whole vision was concealed by the rubble and dust. 

Pain. That was all you felt. Pure pain. 

Were you going to die? Wasn’t you expecting that once you told both your classmates to find Kugisaki and run? You couldn’t lie to yourself, it was too painful to think about death right now. You couldn’t think straight at all.

Once the smoked cleared, all that the special curse could see was your standing figure panting heavily with your left sleeve completely gone due to the blast as blood gushed down your left arm. You had barely managed to get yourself out of the hands of instant death and luckily nothing of your body was disintegrated, just some burns and cuts here and there - to say it was surprising to see you standing was an understatement.

“From our battle so far, you lack the form of curse technique, but you still can pack a punch, ah it hurts,”

The blood loss was getting to you. Yes, having no limbs was not the better option but you could still live with that. What humans couldn’t do was stay alive with no blood and here you were quickly losing your live source the flowed in your body. You couldn’t even cover the wound as there was nothing you could cover it with and even if you did, the wound was too large to be covered. 

You were losing the strength to stand.

You were losing your balance.

You were losing consciousness.

Suddenly, you heard a loud sound of a howl from a distance. Instantly, you knew that Fushiguro and Itadori were able to find Kugisaki and get out. It was his signal. 

However, you weren’t so lucky in that factor, from the state that you were in, there was no way in hell you were able to escape now - but you were okay with that. If the other’s were safe, that was better than not knowing if they made it out alive. Slowly, you were starting to lose the feeling in your legs, causing you to completely losing your balance.

‘Damn,’ you thought, as you felt your whole body suddenly dropping leaving you no strength left to even brace for the impact, leaving you to close your eyes and admitting defeat.

However, just as you were able to fall to the ground, you suddenly felt a pair of arms catching you before you were quickly lifted up bridal style and pulled into a warm embrace surprising you completely from the sudden comfort of what you thought was your lonely end. Who was still in the building? You thought everyone got out, so who was carrying you right now?

From your limited sight, you could slowly make out someone in a dark uniform similar to the colour you wore, meaning it had to be someone from the team. However, the extreme pressure of curse energy that was somewhat suffocating you determined otherwise - no one within the area right now had this much power, no one at all. Unless…..

“Were you the one that caused this?”

Sukuna…

All you could hear right now a shaking tone as well as the couple droplets of water that was within the Innate Domain that surrounded you.

“For a grade two sorcerer, she really blew half of your body up with that little curse technique she used on you, I’m quite proud of my little one,” Sukuna uncharacteristically complimented you, as he gently pressed a little kiss on top of your head before gently smiling at you - knowing you won’t be able to see this rare expression on his face.

“You see, I’ve grown fond of this little human in my arms right now, and for you to do this much damage to her body, really weirdly angers me,” Sukuna stated before he turned around and began to walk away. “Wait there for a quick second would you? I need to take care of this one right now,” Sukuna commented, before gently placing you down at a safe spot to which he then started to use his curse energy to quickly heal your wound once he sat you up straight. 

Brushing away some of the hairs that were in your face, Sukuna placed one last light lingering kiss on your forehead before saying, “I’m proud of you, just wait a little longer, I’ll be back,”.

What was going on?

This had to be a hallucination. There was no question about that. There was no way Sukuna could have saved you let alone kissed you in any way. This was all a hallucination. Wasn’t it?

However, you didn’t have the power to stay awake any longer, resulting you to surrender to the tiredness that was taking over you, letting the darkness invade your whole surroundings, but not before letting out a little mutter under your breath.

‘Proud ha?’

[finelinevogue]

hi! i love your writing literally so much and when i saw the golf photos i was wondering if you could write about harry golfing and y/n is driving the golfcart and theyre flirting or harry and y/n are bf and gf and they go golfing together?

okay so first Denver tour blurb everyone cheer!

It was “sandwich” day, as you liked to call it.The day between the tour shows - the filling, if you will.

As it was Harry’s day to do “nothing” so to speak, you decided that it might be a nice idea to go golfing. Harry hadn’t really been since the pandemic had started and so you thought it might be a nice time to get back into it, to help calm his nervous jitters in between shows. So you invited Harry, Jeff and two other friends of Harry’s, whom lived in the area, to come golfing with you.

You pretended like you were good at golf, but in reality you couldn’t even do well when it was crazy golf. You made the effort to get in the spirit of the sport though, putting on the only golfing attire that you packed with you; a skirt and a sports vest shirt with trainers made especially for golfing. Harry on the other hand just went for some regular sports shorts and a yellow shirt, yet he still looked like he was about to out-do Tiger Woods.

“We ready?” Jeff asked, climbing onto the back of the golf buggy, next to the two other guys, Tom and Benny.

“Yup.” Harry says, hopping into the passenger side of the cart next to you in the drivers seat. His arm swings around the back of your seat and he rests his fingers on your shoulder. His close proximity really helps comfort you.

You started to drive away from the main building and out onto the gold course, carefully so you didn’t topple the cart or accidentally run anyone over. Harry kept his fingers dancing on your bare shoulder and he leaned over his shoulder to talk to the guys behind. You were quite content just driving along, watching as the green grass and blue skies passed you along the way. The drive to the first hole was about 5 minutes and once you arrived Harry was quick to give you a sloppy kiss to the cheek.

“What was that for?” You asked, killing the engine and shoving the keys in your pocket so the cart couldn’t be just stolen.

“Just love y’so much.” He smiled and now kissed you on the lips. His mouth was soft and yet his kiss was so passionate and forceful. He was trying to convey just how much he did love you, and you could feel every single bit of it through his energy.

“Love you even more.”

“Yeah, no that’s not happening.” Harry shook his head, hopping out of the cart and grabbing all his gear. You hopped out too, but just grabbing your water bottle and suncream.

“What?” You laughed, as he took your hand and you both walked off to where the other boys were setting up. Harry purposefully walked slowly so he could have a little more time with you.

“I love you most. End of.” He answered, squeezing your hand just because.

“I’m not having this argument with you.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Yeah, because i’ll win?” He asked smugly, setting down his gear and standing close to you. You could see the bitter cheek in his eyes. Prick.

“Because i’m not going to fight with you over how much we love each other.”

“Okay, okay.” He sighed, pulling out the club that he wanted to use first. Before he went to join the boys though, he stopped by you first. “I love y’most though.” With a kiss of the lips he was away from you and focused on the game, leaving you to chuckle at how sly he was and thinking about just how good a boyfriend he really is.

After around 12 out of the 19 holes, Harry was leading out of the four of them by a long-shot even if he claimed he was a terrible golfer. They were very hot and sweaty now. Even though gold isn’t exactly a laborious sport, the heat of the Colorado sun made it quite unbearable at some points. You had to sit under the roof of the gold buggy at one point, feeling so hot that you were quite faint. Harry sat with you for a while, making sure that you were okay before he went to play his hole. He regularly told you to drink water and gave you a cap to wear to protect you better, which had been quite sweet actually.

“This says ‘Harry is my friend’?” You questioned, putting on the hat regardless. It was his new tour merch and you absolutely loved it to the point where you were considering buying one for yourself.

“What? Are you not my friend?” Harry asked, looking almost offended you’d ask such a thing.

“No. I’m y’bestfriend.”

“Damn right you are.” And the moment had ended with his lips on yours and then a shouting from Jeff for you both to get a move on.

Now you were on the last hole and Harry was the last one to swing, or rather just putt. He was on the green and could easily get a hole in one with a steady shot. Harry had already won the mini tournament they had going on, so he didn’t mind at all when he offered of you wanted to tap his last shot.

“Seriously?” You asked, confused that he’d want you to do this considering you’ve never played golf well before.

“He’s won anyways, Y/N, might as well!” Jeff laughed, in other words reminding you of how shit you actually are at this sport.

“Oi, leave m’girlfriend alone, y’dickhead.” Harry shouted in pretence at Jeff, motioning for you to come and join him.

“I’m sorry in advance.” You giggled, taking ahold of the club that he was holding.

“I trust you.” He smiled and backed away slightly to watch you. You took your place next to his golf ball and eyed it up, trying to stand in line with the hole to make sure you didn’t fuck this up for Harry. I mean, you were going to miss but you didn’t want it to be by miles. You tried to form a good body position, but clearly it wasn’t that great.

Harry’s hands came to your hips first, whispering in your ear for you to be less tense in your stance. He then slid his hands up your sides until they reached your shoulders, loosening them and pushing them down slightly so you weren’t so hunched. His hands then trailed down both of your arms until his body was over yours, hands on your hands clutching the hold of the club. His touch shivered goosebumps onto your skin, yet his warmth and closeness wanted to dissipate them all away. “I trust you.” He whispered to you once again, singing your arms with his gently. Everything was in perfect alignment. You two were in perfect sync.

Ball in hole.

“Yes!” You jumped and cheered like a little kid excited on Christmas morning, dropping the club to the floor to throw your arms around Harry and kiss his neck a few times. “Did you see that?” You asked, as Harry’s hold tickled your sides. He was giving you his happiest and most proudest grin he could.

“I did baby. Y’so amazing!” He laughed, coming down to give your forehead a long pressing kiss.

“‘Cause I did so well I get to say I love you most, okay?” You smiled up at him, waiting for his response.

“Uhhh… no.” He dragged out his hum but definitely gave his answer, making you pout and squint your eyes at him. God, if only he knew just how much love you actually had for him, but then again if only you knew how much he had for you.

[angryschnauzer]

He’s A Keeper

Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.

Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.

Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3

He’s A Keeper

Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass. 

You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;

“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”

Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.

When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;

“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”

“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”

He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;

“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”

You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;

“We’re all going…”

“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed. 

-

An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;

“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”

Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;

“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”

“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.

“But you can ride with me on my bike?”

Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;

“I… I don’t have a helmet…”

“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”

Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;

“Hey, thanks for waiting”

“No worries! So, where are we going again?”

“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”

Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”

He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;

“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.

The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.

“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”

“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.

-

The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.

“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”

You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.

With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;

“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”

“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”

“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”

“Oh…” 

It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.

“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.

-

You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;

“May i?”

Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.

“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more

“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”

Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.

As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;

“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”

“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”

“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”

-

Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.

“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”

You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;

“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;

“Yes Sir”

Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss. 

Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;

“May i?”

Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.

Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”

Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.

Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;

“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;

“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”

“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”

“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”

“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”

“Oh… good thinking…”

A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;

“Shall we continue?”

At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;

“Henry… please…”

“What do you need?”

“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”

Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.

With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;

“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”

With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.

Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;

“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”

The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”

“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”

“Have you got work tomorrow?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Please, stay”

He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;

“So, how many more condom’s you got?”

-

The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.

Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;

“Still life class?”

Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;

“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”

With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;

“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”

Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go. 

[in-tua-deep]

idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

[watchmegetobsessed]

Keys of truth - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

hiya loves! this was a very sudden idea of mine that i really wanted to write so i made it to be the last fic of fanficmas! thank you for reading my works through the month, i hope you all enjoyed all the content and i hope you’ll stay with me in 2021 as well! this is an exlovers to lovers fic, kind of very emotional so... yeah!

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

You stay in your car for so long the heat that warmed you on your way here has completely disappeared, your fingers are like ice as they still grip the steering wheel. The snow blizzard  outside is raging, warning you that if you don’t go inside anytime soon you might get stuck here and that’s the last thing you want: trapped with your ex who you still dearly love.

You can barely see out of the windshield, it’s covered in snow, another sign that your time is ticking, you need to get back home before all roads get snowed in.

“You can do it. It’s just Harry,” you tell yourself, but that’s the problem. It’s Harry who is currently inside, kind of waiting for you to arrive, pack the remaining of your stuff from his house so your breakup can be official.

The burning regret has been making your life miserable in the past few weeks, ever since you said the words and instantly wanted to take them back. But upon seeing his reaction, you decided to be stubborn and don’t show your weakness.

“Can’t this conversation just wait a little longer, please?” he sighed, clearly annoyed that you brought up the same thing for the hundredth time in the past two months. But you just couldn’t help it, you were feeling like you were running out of time and Harry didn’t seem to realize it.

“How can you ask me to put it aside when my lease is ending in January? I need to know how to plan. Why is it so hard to decide if you want me here or not?”

The thought of moving together had come up a few times, but it became a burning question when your lease was nearing its end. You wanted to move in with Harry, something you’ve been planning on for a while, and you thought he did the same. But when you first mentioned it to him, he seemed hesitant, as if he didn’t want it wholeheartedly and that hurt you like Hell, but thought he might had had just a long day. So you agreed to have the conversation another time, but it seemed like no time was suitable for him. He had been dodging your question instantly, trying to get out of it as fast as possible, giving you the feeling that he doesn’t want you around after all.

But it was now the beginning of December, leaving you very little time to look for a new place if he decided he needed his own place. It wouldn’t have bothered you that much, you understand his need for privacy, but at least have the courage to tell you, right? But he didn’t. He kept brushing it off, building the tension in you until one day… you snapped.

“It’s not that easy, Y/N, alright? I asked you to have this discussion later, why can’t you wait a little more?” he snapped right back, growing frustrated as well, but you didn’t think he had the right.

“Wait for what? To make up your mind if you want a future with me or not? If you are hesitant about it, then I think we have a bigger problem on your hands here, Harry,” you retorted, feeling all the rage you’ve kept bottled up erupt from you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” He looks at you with a hard stare and you stand his piercing eyes, not looking away.

“What it means is that… your behavior is making me think that maybe we aren’t heading in the right direction. I thought it was evident that we would move in, but your hesitation is kind of ruining the picture for me.”

“I’m not hesitating, I just asked for some time to smooth some things out!”

“What things? Do you have someone else living with you and you need to get rid of them before I can move in or what?”

“For fuck’s sake, just give me some damn time, Y/N!”

“Well, I don’t think I have any more time.”

He stared at you in disbelief and the words burned your tongue, but there was no turning back now, it was out there.

“For the moving or for me?” he simply asked, no emotion showing on his face and that hurt you more than you expected. You wanted him to panic, to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, but his reaction was so cold and empty, it completely broke your heart.

“I think we both know the answer,” you whispered, feeling the tears building in your eyes already.

You stormed out of his place after a few insults were thrown at each other and now it has been three weeks you officially called it quits. The worst three weeks of your life, if you are being honest. Not one night went by without you crying yourself to sleep, deeply missing Harry. You still love him more than anyone or anything and there were so many times you just wanted to go back to him crawling, but your pride didn’t let you. He seemed just fine to let you go and that was like a stab in your chest, see him so in peace with you walking out. You just couldn’t believe two years went right out the window just like that, after such a ridiculous little thing. You still haven’t been able to figure out why he couldn’t just give you an answer. It would have been painful to hear him tell you he doesn’t want you living with him just yet, but you would have gotten over it eventually. Would have been a lot better ending to the story than this ugly breakup you won’t be able to forget about… ever.

Swinging the door open the cold wind slaps you right across your face, earning some pretty creative curses from you as you lock the car. Snow is everywhere, threateningly falling with no mercy, and you know you need to make it quick.

Marching up to the front door you push the button to the doorbell a little too forcefully, eyes squinting from the blizzard and it feels like your eyelashes are now covered in snow completely.

Then the door opens and there he is, standing tall and just as handsome as always, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a knitted sweater, curls a little messy but in the cutest way possible. He looks so cozy and warm, you just want to wrap yourself into his embrace, but you remind yourself that you no longer have the right to be that close to him.

“Hey, come on in,” he greets you with a small smile, holding the door open as you walk inside and he finally shuts the door, keeping the cold outside.

You haven’t seen him since your fight and now it’s like another slap across your face, seeing him in the flesh, looking… fine. As if nothing has happened while you’ve been a nervous wreck these past weeks and it makes the whole situation even more painful.

“Hi. I’ll be quick, I promise,” you tell him clearing your throat as you get rid of your coat and boots, leaving them by the door so you don’t get any mess on any of his rugs. He nods his head quietly following you further inside the house before taking the lead. You’ve thought about this place as a second home for some time now, but now being here as just some kind of guest is heartbreaking, but you try your best not to think about how painful it really is.

“Most things are in the wardrobe, but I think you have quite some books in the study as well,” he says, awkwardly clearing his throat as he walks you into his bedroom he has shared with you oh so many times before.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“Do you fancy a cup of tea? I can also help you if you want,” he offers, clearly not certain about how he should act now and that makes the two of you, it seems.

“Tea sounds great, but I’ll be fine on my own,” you tell him with a faint smile and he just nods, shuffling out of the room, leaving you alone.

You start going through his spacious wardrobe, collecting all your items you’ve left here through your time with him, and pack them away into the bags you brought with yourself, knowing well you have a lot to take home. You hear Harry starting the kettle outside in the kitchen and you need to take a deep breath so you don’t start crying. You miss him so much. You miss having him around, talking to you, touching you… kissing you. It’s killing you to know that you’ll never have him the way you want and it feels like you can do nothing, but to suffer quietly.

While packing, you find some of the shirts he always gave you when you spent the night, even though you had your own clothes to sleep in. There was just something different to have his shirts on, smell his scent and he also never failed to tell you how much he loves seeing you wear his stuff, so you shamelessly borrowed anything that caught your eyes. For a moment, you debate if he would notice if you took one of his shirts, but then you tell yourself it would be a stupid idea, so you force yourself to leave there everything that’s not essentially yours.

“Here. With a dash of honey, just like how you always drink it,” he smiles at you warmly as he reappears with a steaming mug in his hands.

“Thank you,” you mumble shyly taking the mug from him to have a breather from all the packing.

He stays standing there, just a few feet from you, looking around a little lost, his hands on his hips, as if he is trying to find something to do, but there’s none. It’s the first time you see something in him, something you are not used to, but it’s so masked that you can’t put your finger on it.

“Alright, um… I’ll be in the kitchen if you need any help,” he then says with a tight-lipped smile before walking out and leaving you alone again.

You need a breather once he is gone, you let yourself sit on the edge of his bed, sipping on the tea and you can’t ignore how he used your favorite filter, the one you always made him buy so he had it at his place as well. These thoughtful little things always make your stomach churn, especially now. Because you just can’t put it together with how it all ended. Why would he be this caring and loving man towards you, when he doesn’t want you anymore?

Swallowing down you tears you just sit there until you finish the hot drink and force yourself to stand up and bring the mug out for him. Your feet tap against the hardwood floor quietly and as you are about to turn the corner, you stop hearing his quiet voice coming from the kitchen.

“I can’t, Gems. I can’t fucking do it,” you hear him, his voice muffled and something odd lacing through it. “But it’s so fucking hard!” he snaps after a short silence and you assume his sister told him something through the phone. “I don’t want this…” he breathes out and you realize that he is crying.

He lets out a quiet sob and you dare to step forward and look in his way in the kitchen. He is hunched over with his back facing you, a hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other one his holding his phone to his ear. He looks so broken, like just a ghost of himself, nothing like the unbothered man you saw just a little while ago. Seeing him like this breaks your heart even more and you don’t even know what to do or say, so you just stand there, eavesdropping on his conversation with his sister.

“I don’t know how she would react. You really think it’s a good idea?” he asks, sniffing his nose and his hand flies from the countertop to his face, wiping his cheeks harshly. “I don’t… Fuck, this is so bad, Gems.”

You feel your throat closing up, you are dying to know what Gemma is saying on the other end of the call.

“I know,” he replies to something. “Of course I do. How can I not? This was never supposed to happen.” Another silence. “I fucking know, Gems, but I felt so dumbfounded, I literally couldn’t think straight!”

You suck on your breath, trying your best to put the bits and pieces together. If he is talking about what you think, you are about to break out into sobs any moment.

“Alright,” he sighs, head falling back a little as he is probably blinking away his tears. The urge to just go up behind him and hug his waist, pressing your cheek against his shoulder blades, like you always do whenever he is washing the dishes or making breakfast for the two of you, is getting hard to fight.

He ends the call and before you could even realize, your feet are taking you forward in his direction. Your knee cracks when you take a bigger step and it makes his head snap around. You freeze right where you are, a few feet away from him, holding your empty mug in your hands, staring back at him at a lack of words. Now that he is facing you it’s clear that he was indeed crying, the redness around his eyes and glistening cheeks of his give him away instantly.

“Oh, um, hey. You need help with anything?” he asks, wiping his cheeks again, though there’s no use in trying to hide the signs.

“Harry, what was that about?” you softly ask as he keeps his eyes fixated on the tiled floor in front of him.

“Just… Gemma.”

“What was never supposed to happen?” you ask ignoring how he tried to dodge your question. He draws a shaky breath, looking anywhere but at you and you hate it. You need to see those green eyes on you. So stepping closer you turn his head by his chin so his glassy gaze meets yours.

Harry opens his mouth two times, but closes it until he finally speaks up for the third time.

“There’s something I want to give you,” he tells you, caching you by surprise.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Just…” he breathes out in defeat. “Let me give it to you, okay? And I’ll answer all your questions after that.”

Silently you nod and watch him shuffle into his bedroom, hearing him open a drawer and then he appears with a tiny box in his hands. It’s deep blue, with a pretty little white bow on top. He gestures for you to sit on the couch with him, so you silently obey and the two of you sit on each sides of his plush couch.

“Here,” he whispers handing you the box. Glancing up at him you try to put the picture together, but you fail to see what this is about so you go ahead and take off the lid.

At first you don’t realize what it is that you are looking at. There is a set of keys on a chain along with a little silver heart, your name engraved into it. A second passes by, then another and you gasp when realization hits you.

“Harry, what is this?” you ask, not really meaning that what’s in the box, because you figured it’s the keys to his place, but you can’t figure out why he just gave this to you.

“I’ve had them made for over two months. Wanted to give them to you on Christmas as a surprise. This was my plan all along and this is why I tried to push the conversation back. There was nothing to talk about, I wanted you here, I just wanted it to be a surprise for you. But then we had that stupid fight and I knew I should have just told you the truth, but I was shocked and couldn’t think properly. I never wanted us to end up like this and when I realized what I did you were already… gone.”

The tears start soaking your cheeks within a moment as you clutch onto the keys for dear life, listening to Harry.

“I was an idiot. I wanted to call you and tell you why I didn’t want to talk about the moving, but then I thought you wouldn’t believe me and say that I was just trying to save what was left of us. Fuck, that was my biggest mistake ever. I haven’t stopped beating myself up about it and I’ve been so miserable without you, Y/N. You can’t even imagine.”

“I think I can,” you choke out with a bitter laugh. “I regretted it the moment I said those words. But I was too proud to admit it and you seemed just fine with it.”

“Oh I was miles away from being fine,” he breathes out, his body falling forward as he leans his elbows onto his thighs. “I didn’t stop crying until like six in the morning, Y/N. After you left, I felt like I had nothing left.”

You sob at his words, putting the keys aside as you crawl into his arms, swinging a leg over him so you can straddle him and sit on his lap. His strong arms curl around your frame instantly, an instinct he has had for a while now and three weeks wasn’t enough to get rid of it, luckily. He pulls you close as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, sobbing and crying uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry I ever made you think I’m not planning my future with you. You are my future, Y/N. All of it.”

“Stop!” you choke out laughing. “I can’t cry any harder!” you say, making him laugh as well. His hand slides to the back of your neck, threading his fingers into your hair.

“Oh baby, I don’t want you to cry at all,” he chuckles softly, pulling you to his chest once again. “I want you to be happy, preferably with me, but if you tell me to fuck off, I still understand.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” you smack his chest gently. “I love you way too much to ever say that.”

“Fuck, you don’t know how amazing it is to hear that,” he breathes out as his hands move up to cup your face and he finally pulls you into a sweet, i-missed-you-so-fucking-much-don’t-ever-leave-me-again kiss that makes the whole world spin around you. Just like that, the universe falls into perfect balance and all the suffering and pain you had to go through, it vanishes the moment Harry’s lips touch yours again, something you truly thought would never happen again.

“So, have you found a place yet?” he asks, a little out of breath from the kisses you two just shared. Resting his forehead against yours he looks into your eyes with his piercing green ones that you missed so dearly.

“I was supposed to move to my sister’s temporarily, but I guess I can give her a call that she won’t have to put up with me after all,” you chuckle making Harry laugh as well. “When do you want me to move?”

“Like right now,” he replies instantly, making your heart flutter. “But whenever you want to, it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t change your mind about it.”

“Then how about after Christmas?”

“Perfect,” he breathes out pecking your lips again.

“I guess we have to rearrange our Christmas plans too. Unless… you don’t want me to go home with you.”

“None of that shit anymore, baby. I want you with me all the time,” he blurts out making you smile. He will never hold anything back from now on, this mishap taught you both a lesson about communication and honesty. He turns to look out the window and you follow his gaze realizing the blizzard has completely snowed the two of you in. “I think we might be trapped here for a while,” he states, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“Oh no, what a disaster!” you moan, voice still shaky from the crying, but your comment makes the both of you laugh.

“Luckily, you still have all your stuff here,” he huffs looking back at you.

“Mhm, luckily,” you breathe out before pulling him down for another kiss.

Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

[hex-obsession]

Silver Lining - Two

word count- 2,259

content warning- language, angst, indirect s**cidal thought

____________________________________________

Crows cawing, your eyes open just enough to hazily make out the all too familiar color of your room.

“Early bird gets the worm, you know,” a familiar voice murmurs. Pushing off the wall to your right, your body slides diagonally over your bed, your head dangling off the side. Upside down, Cheryl is slumped against your door frame, arms and legs crossed. Brazen as usual, just the way you loved her. You held your own in most regards but Cheryl was always there when you least expected it and needed her most. You swear there were a halo atop that adorable shaggy blonde head of hers. And not one of those tacky event items either.

“Like I’d get anything any time of day with all the birds around here.” A tickling squeeze builds in your abdomen, branching up your neck to your cheeks which now had a telling pink glow.

“So you gonna talk to old lover boy yet or what?”

You jolt forward and whip around fast enough to make any killer miss a swing. Your response is unnecessary as she’s already smirking devilishly, aware of what she’s doing. She might have been your closest friend but that did not stop her from tormenting you, or anyone else that crossed her path. All in good fun and love, of course. It went without saying that you enjoyed it and she knew when it was, rarely, time to pack it up.

Raising her eyebrows, she leans back and throws her hands up. “I’m just saying, if you don’t, you might lose your chance. That’s all I’m saying,” quieter now.

You sighed. She was right. You weren’t the only one who took a liking to Leon. But, unlike you, Yun-Jin did not hide her feelings, from anyone for any reason, ever. Of course, everyone thought he was charismatic and most, undeniably handsome. That was common knowledge. You ran out of things to talk about in a place like this, and secrets were few and far between. There was no reason to hide here. This was your foreseeable future, together. There was no getting out, no changing things. Being open and sharing everything together made your day to day bearable. The connections you lost in your old lives left gaping holes, but together as one tightly knit, weird, fucked up family, you helped fill the voids. Some took longer than others to accept that fate, and there were some inevitable hiccups, but everyone came around eventually.

Anyone who wasn’t blind could see the attraction Yun-Jin had for the newest addition to your group. Placing her hands on him in conversation whenever she got the chance, laughing a little too hard at the things he said, biting her bottom lip and smiling at him when he talked. You’d even caught her pecking his cheek playfully here and there. He’d always smile and look away, as if it were a game. Leon always had a sultry attitude to him, a ladies' man no doubt. Subtly flirting with everyone was just commonplace for him. That was part of the reason you held back. Fearing you missed your chance and someone else had filled the role you longed to be in. Maybe it was your fear of rejection or abandonment, or not wanting to lose something this important in a world as cruel and bare this. You were subconsciously working hard to convince him you were only a friend. Which you were, definitely friends. Close even, given the circumstances. Trauma bonding does one hell of a number to the timeline of friendship. Still, you sensed zero difference in his behavior toward you versus the others. Which, admittedly, was quite the letdown. Nonetheless, you had nothing to lose by casually admitting your feelings for him. Keep it light and airy and there would be no reason for things to change on the chance he didn’t feel the same. After all, you surely weren’t the only one with a harmless little crush. That’s all it was. Right? So what if you constantly day-dream about him holding you so close he might consume you, kissing you with four times the passion the Notebook tried to capture, never leaving your side regardless of what the future held. His taste, his smell… what his cock would feel like ramming into your cervix. Your brain was one giant knot, constantly distracting you and there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it. Except tell him, but keep it simple.

By your calculations, it was November 18th. You’d been keeping track, not sure if it made things better or worse. Your third anniversary in this place was not far off. Despite being a literal nightmare, it had its perks. Your need for food was no more, as well as your other bodily needs. Sickness was a quickly forgotten annoyance of the past. You stayed in this eerily perfect state. Makeup never crusty, hair never oily and always smelling of your favorite fruit. The dirt and blood you’d acquire during trials magically disappeared upon return. You had a handful of outfits to rotate but there was no real need. Another upside, there were no severe temperatures here. Jackets, shorts, sandals, snow boots if you were Nea. You were always mostly comfortable. Even on Ormond where snow blanketed the ground, those gusts of wind should have sent chills right through you, but they didn’t. It felt like living in a dream or a, simulation. Just, where you’re hunted all day and night for the rest of your existence. At least death wasn’t permanent. Sometimes you’d wish it was, just to escape.

Several months have passed since Leon and Jill were introduced to your world. You had inside jokes and more close calls than you could both count. You were a damn good team and got along smoother than melted butter. What were you waiting for? You inhaled sharply and broke your stare out the window.

“I’m gonna do it.”

To no avail, your deep breaths failed to remedy the painful pounding in your chest, or the heat radiating from your face. Nevertheless, you marched out to the campfire to seek out Yun-Jin. As selfish as you wanted to be with Leon, she was your friend, and you held that in high regard. She was easy to spot in a crowd given her loud attire, but wasn’t around the fire. Which lead to your next realization; neither was Leon. Your throat tightened, heart still pounding. You set off a little too quickly to find her, or them. First stop was Ace’s shack. Judging based on appearances, you figured he would be one of the last people she associated with. Quite the opposite, they were dear friends. Not connected at the hip per se, like her and Claudette, but they related to one another's childhoods. Trauma bonding, can't beat it. To your dismay, the shack was empty, a seed of despair planting in your stomach. Maintaining the most convincing composure you could, you continue your search. Heading left down the line of shacks, robust laughter grows closer. You’d know that laugh anywhere. Cutting through the row, David and Felix are reclined under a tree. They were one of the few monogamous couples among you. The others being Nancy and Steve, and Adam and Zarina. You understood the allure of being romantically involved with more than one person, especially given your less-than-ideal situation, but it wasn’t for you.

“Hi y/n!” Felix shouted toward you.

Not wanting to stop and chat given your current objective, you flashed a cheeky smile and waved to them. Before they could get another word out, you dipped back behind the row of houses. Nerves getting the best of you, you parted your lips to breathe through your mouth. Every breath burned your lungs, realizing now all the times you brushed off your feelings have come back to haunt you. You should never have waited this long. At this point you would be more than willing, desperate, to share Leon. Refusing to let your anxiety get the best of you, you ball your fists and dig your nails into your palms to get a grip on yourself. There was one more place they could possibly be. A sliver of premature acceptance wedged itself into your train of thought as you trudged toward your own shack. Leon’s was adjacent to yours. Feeling foolish for not checking earlier, you round the corner to the opening. As much as you wish you could close your eyes, they were pinned open with anticipation. Looking up from your feet you were shocked to see an empty room before you. Relief and confusion replace your foreboding. Too much time had already been wasted, so you return to the campfire.

“Hey, have you seen Leon or Yun-Jin anywhere?” you, as calmly as possible, ask Élodie.

“They got pulled a little bit ago babe.” She was intently focused on Jane, her concentration not broken. “Which do you like more, up or down?” her gaze still fixated on Jane.

You have to either keep the courage you finally mustered until they get back or give yourself emotional whiplash by releasing until they do. You hesitate for a moment, but to hide your disappointment you quickly retort, “Up, definitely up. Gotta distract the killer with that beautiful face you know?”

“Like they're looking at her face and not that dumptruck ass!” Élodie howls. Jane facetiously puts her fingertips to her chin and looks upward, a façade of innocence no one here would ever buy. You can't help but giggle despite your inner turmoil.

“Well hey,” you add through chuckles, “when they're back can you please send her my way?”

“Sure thing babe,” Élodie assures, finally turning to meet your gaze.

A horrible nauseating mix of dismal, relieving, lewd thoughts of Leon swirl in your mind as you wait for Yun-Jin to step into the doorway. You knew you liked him but holy shit, where did this come from? The realization slapped you in the face. Try to blame infatuation all you want, not that you did, but it was so painfully evident now you were dumbfounded.

A soft knock jerked you out of your thoughts. “Hiya y/n, what's going on?”

Her delicate eyes effortlessly comforted you from across the room.

“I...” your eyes now glued to the floor beneath your feet, a reservoir of tears barely being held back, “I need to know how you feel about Leon.” Your nerves went haywire just uttering his name to her. An icy splash of chills surged from your head to your feet as your chest panged with dread.

“Well of course I like him,” her brow furrowed ever so slightly.

All that could escape your mouth was, “Oh.” Emptiness, despair replacing the jealous unease you felt before. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, feelings that danced around menacingly finally coming to a head.

At the sight of your distress, she rushed to sit next to you. “Honey, what’s going on?” her voice barely above a whisper.

You were ashamed for breaking down in front of her, afraid of guilting her for something that was not her fault, and now terrified Leon might follow her here, only to find you undone over him. You jerk your head up to face her and blurt out, “Jinny I think I love him,” face sopping wet with untouched tears.

She raises her eyebrows and smiles at you. “Honey I have fun toying with him all in good nature but there’s no connection there.” Your heart thuds against your ribcage. “Sure, I’ll admit he’s attractive, who wouldn’t, but I have nowhere near the same feelings for him that you evidently do.” She uses both hands to cup your face and pushes as much wetness as she can aside with her thumbs. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Not only to me but to him!” Despite being similar in age, she feels like a mother to you. Caring for a child, your own or not, will do that to you. That’s not a trait you lose over time.

“I’m so afraid,” you softly whimper, “of what he would say, what you would say.” You're picking at your cuticles, a habit you acquired during puberty as an outlet for your overwhelming feelings.

She wraps her arms around you, carefully as to not tarnish her jacket with tears, which would definitely stain the material. “I was just having a little fun, and from what I’ve gathered, he was more so allowing it than participating. You know I love you all to death but I’m not looking for anything like that, definitely not here.” She gives you a squeeze, and suddenly you can breathe again, the air around you no longer dense and difficult to swallow. “Honey, go get him.”

“Oh Jesus, let me fix myself a little first at least,” the sudden relief causing you to laugh involuntarily.

You were grateful disease and ailments didn’t exist outside of the trials, if they had you're sure you would've had an aneurysm from the stress you went through in a matter of an hour. Yun-Jin left you to your thoughts, which were now solely you and Leon together, doing anything and everything you could think of. The rest of the day you contemplated telling him, more so, how to. Thankfully you didn’t have any trials together, you were far too disorganized for that right now. “Tomorrow,” you promise yourself. Nothing like a clear head and a night’s rest to help you be your most collected, confident self.

____________________________________________

Silver Lining masterlist

[estatedekho04]

Plots for sale in Kandi Hyderabad

Plots for Sale in Kandi, Hyderabad: A Guide to Your Future Home

Ah, Hyderabad! The city of pearls, biryani, and, well, an increasingly competitive real estate market. If you’re here, you’ve probably heard the buzz about Kandi. Nestled in the vicinity of Hyderabad, Kandi is emerging as a sought-after destination for homebuyers and investors alike. So, buckle up as we take a humorous and conversational journey through the ins and outs of buying plots in Kandi, Hyderabad.

Plots for sale in Kandi Hyderabad

Why Kandi?

You might wonder, why Kandi? Why not some other bustling part of Hyderabad? Well, imagine this: you wake up to the sound of chirping birds instead of honking cars, you sip your morning coffee with a view of open spaces, and yet, you're just a stone's throw away from the city’s amenities. Sounds like a dream, right?

The Perks of Kandi

Peaceful Living: Kandi offers a serene environment, making it a perfect spot for those who crave tranquility away from the city's chaos.

Accessibility: Despite its peaceful vibe, Kandi is well-connected to Hyderabad, making your commute a breeze.

Investment Potential: The real estate market in Kandi is booming. With rapid development and increasing demand, your plot is likely to appreciate in value.

Types of Plots Available

When it comes to plots in Kandi, variety is the spice of life. Here’s a quick rundown:

Residential Plots: Ideal for building your dream home.

Commercial Plots: Perfect for setting up a business or investment property.

Agricultural Plots: If you have a green thumb or dream of a farmhouse, this is your pick.

Location, Location, Location

In real estate, location is everything. Kandi scores high on this front, thanks to its strategic positioning. Here’s a table to give you a better idea:

Place

Distance from Kandi

Gachibowli

25 km

Hi-Tech City

30 km

Financial District

28 km

Rajiv Gandhi International Airport

50 km

Infrastructure and Amenities

Kandi isn’t just about open plots and scenic views; it’s about a well-rounded lifestyle. The area boasts impressive infrastructure and amenities:

Educational Institutions: With schools and colleges popping up, Kandi is an educational hub in the making.

Healthcare Facilities: Access to top-notch healthcare is crucial, and Kandi doesn’t disappoint.

Shopping and Entertainment: From local markets to modern malls, Kandi offers plenty of options.

A Day in the Life in Kandi

Imagine a typical day in Kandi. You wake up to a peaceful morning, have your breakfast while enjoying the view of lush greenery, and then head out for a jog in one of the many parks. Later, you drop your kids at a reputed school nearby, swing by a cafe for a quick coffee, and then drive to your office in Hyderabad. In the evening, you return to the tranquility of Kandi, maybe do a bit of gardening, and end your day with a relaxing walk under the starlit sky. Sounds idyllic, doesn’t it?

Investment Tips and Tricks

Buying a plot is a significant investment. Here are some tips to ensure you make the best decision:

Research: Do thorough research about the area, current market trends, and future development plans.

Legal Checks: Ensure the plot has clear titles and is free from legal disputes.

Budget: Set a budget and stick to it. Factor in additional costs like registration, taxes, and development charges.

Visit the Site: Pictures can be deceptive. Visit the plot to get a real feel of the location and surroundings.

Personal Anecdote: My Plot Hunt in Kandi

Let me share a little story from my own experience. A few years ago, my spouse and I decided it was time to invest in a plot. We were torn between several locations but something about Kandi kept pulling us back. Perhaps it was the perfect blend of serenity and connectivity. One fine Saturday, we packed some sandwiches, grabbed our sunnies, and headed out to Kandi. As we walked through one of the plots, envisioning our future home, I tripped over a rock. My spouse had a good laugh while I dusted myself off, but in that moment, we knew – this was the place for us. A few months later, we were proud owners of a beautiful plot in Kandi.

Common FAQs

1. Is Kandi a good place for investment?

Absolutely! With its rapid development and growing demand, Kandi offers excellent investment potential.

2. What is the price range of plots in Kandi?

Prices vary based on the type of plot and its location. On average, residential plots range from INR 20,000 to INR 30,000 per square yard.

3. Are there any reputed schools in Kandi?

Yes, Kandi is home to several reputed schools and educational institutions, making it a great place for families.

4. How far is Kandi from Hyderabad’s main areas?

Kandi is well-connected to major areas like Gachibowli, Hi-Tech City, and the Financial District, all within a 30 km radius.

Final Thoughts

Kandi, Hyderabad, is not just a place; it's a lifestyle choice. Whether you're looking to build your dream home, invest in a commercial property, or simply enjoy the tranquility of suburban living, Kandi has something for everyone. So why wait? Dive into the world of real estate in Kandi and discover the endless possibilities that await you.

Happy plot hunting! And remember, the best investment on earth is earth itself.

Visit estatedekho.com for more information about Plots for Sale in Kandi Hyderabad Telangana. Estatedekho is an online platform that offers sellers, potential clients, buyers verified plots, and professional agents at service.

[troubatrain]

adore you - m. tkachuk

a/n: when i asked for fics to bring back i had a few people ask me for this one - i have the biggest soft spot for this fic because it was the first one that ever got a decent amount of notes on my old blog so I hope you guys love it a second time :)

Matthew Tkachuk was the bane of your existence. He was egotistical, a little dumb and flat out annoying. But, no matter what you did you could never get rid of him. You were forced to spend time with him because your best friend, Hannah, was dating his teammate, Noah. You actually liked Noah, he was kind and extremely good to Hannah. You couldn’t understand how he put up with Matthew and you honestly had a second thought about your friendship when he explained to you that they’d played together on US teams when they were younger too. 

Matthew had been a nightmare since the first night you met, when Hannah went on and on about how she thinks you guys should meet because you’d be perfect together. As usual, you told her you weren’t looking for anything right now, because you were just too busy for it. But, you went along anyway and Hannah introduced the two of you. You’d never met a more annoying human being in your life, who was so sure you were going to sleep with him that night that you ended up chewing him out in the middle of the bar. When you’d finally finished ranting, he just went on about how cute you looked when you were mad at him and you felt your blood boil. That was two months ago, and in those two months he’d spent every waking moment of his day trying to bother you about something.

Which would explain why, as you were home catching up on some work, there was a knock on the door of your apartment and you already knew who it was. You’d opened the door and like you’d received once a week for almost a month, there was someone delivering a bouquet of flowers for Mrs. Tkachuk. You’d signed for them, not bothering to explain to yet another random delivery man that you were not in fact married and tossed them immediately in your garbage. Snapping a picture and sending it to Matthew like you’d done every other time.

Glad you signed that contract, because you’re going to go broke sending me flowers.

You’re worth every penny wifey ;)

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, annoyed with how often this went on. You called Hannah who’d been the cause of all of this in the first place, and waited for her to pick up the phone.

“Hey Y/N what’s up?” Hannah asks.

“If Matthew sends me another bouquet of flowers you can tell Noah he’s going to have one less teammate,” You practically growl into the phone, hearing Noah’s laugh in the background.

“Give Chucky a chance Y/N, the kid wants to marry you,” Noah says, taking the phone from his girlfriend’s hand.

“He’s a nightmare Noah,” You say, sighing into the phone.

“He ADORES you,” Noah explains, “He literally never stops asking about you, speaking of, are you coming to Sean’s party with us tonight?”

“Will you keep Matthew away from me?” You ask, deciding that’s the only way you’d want to even go.

“Yes, I will try and keep Chucky away from you,” Noah promises and you reluctantly agree to go to the party, earning a cheer from Hannah through the phone.

--

When you get to the party, it’s in full swing. The room is filled with people you knew and didn’t and you were honestly shocked Sean knew this many people. You were thankful though, because you knew it would be extremely easy for you to avoid Matthew all night. 

You were doing great with your initial plan of avoiding Matthew. You were having a good time, dancing and drinking with your friends. You definitely were drunk but so was everyone else at the party. You’d escaped to go to the bathroom, walking down the hallway to one of the bathrooms in Sean’s large home. You stopped in front of his wedding photos, looking at the pictures from his nuptials that happened the summer before. 

“When we get married it’ll be even better than Sean’s,” You hear behind you and instantly knew was standing behind you, “Think about it you can plan one of those pinterest weddings, we’ll get hitched, I’ll take us on a sick honeymoon and we can hang our wedding photos in some big old house together.”

“You’re insufferable,” You say, turning around to face the pest behind you, but when you turned your heel caught the edge of the rug you were standing under and you stumbled, falling directly into Matthew in front of you.

“And you’re drunk,” Matthew says, holding you up so you don’t hit the floor.

“I’m fine,” You say, your words slurring together more than you’d intended, you push yourself away from Matthew to stand up yourself.

“No you’re not, I saw you, you had like 4 shots with Hannah,” Matthew says, knowing just how much you’d had to drink.

“How do you even know that, stalker,” You say back, crossing your arms across your chest.

“I was keeping an eye on you, there’s a lot of people here, and you’re absolutely oblivious,” Matthew says and just as he was saying something genuinely kind, he had to ruin it.

You shook your head at his comment, “You’re honestly the worst.”

“I know, can I get you home now?” Matthew says, holding up his keys.

“I can get home myself,” You say, stumbling over your own feet when you try and move down the hallway.

“Y/N please let me just get you home safe, no funny business I swear,” Matthew promises, wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you still.

You push his arm off of you, “You’ve never done anything funny in your life, and fine.”

Matthew smiles at the insult, “Thank you, c’mon wifey we gotta get you home.”

He grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours, pulling you out of the house and down the street to where his car was parked. He opens the door of the black Audi, letting you slide in. Hopping into the driver’s seat, he starts the car to head to your apartment.

“You drive a less douchier car than I thought,” You say, taking in the views of Calgary as you drove through the city.

“I think that was almost a compliment,” Matthew says, laughing.

“Your taste in music is terrible though,” You say, pointing to the top 40 story that was playing on the radio.

“There it is,” Matthew says, pulling in front of your building, turning his car off.

“I can get up to my place myself,” You say, opening the door to get out of the car.

Matthew sighs, “Please Y/N.”

“Whatever,” You mutter, not in the mood for an argument. You both ride up the elevator to your floor in silence, walking down the hallway to your apartment.

“Thank you by the way,” You say, opening the door to your apartment.

“Anytime,” Matthew says, heading back down the hallway, “By the way, I meant it, I’m marrying you one day.”

You shake your head and shut the door, heading to get ready for bed.

--

The next week Matthew and yourself had gone back to your normal bickering. You didn’t think much into the weird conversation you’d had in Sean’s house, unsure of why Matthew was so concerned with getting you home safe. It bothers you for a small amount of time, until you heard him compliment your ass from across Noah’s kitchen and you knew things had gone back to normal. With the All Star break over and Matthew flying back to Calgary you knew your small vacation from his pestering would be over.

But, you were packing to head to Edmonton with Hannah to go see your parents. The two of you were both from Edmonton, moving to Calgary to go to college together. While Hannah's hockey loyalty switched over to the Flames the day Noah asked her to be his girlfriend, you were still a big Oilers fan, only cheering for the Flames because of your friends with Noah and his teammates. But, after the game right before the break, in which Matthew couldn’t stop being a rat and running his mouth in the media, you were almost excited to go to the game. Looking forward to watching him get roughed around a little bit. You pack the Kassian jersey you’d bought recently, knowing you’d be going to the game with Hannah and looking forward to pissing Matthew off beyond belief. 

--

You’d spent the first couple of days in Edmonton, catching up with your family and friends that lived there. You were excited to have had the couple of days home, spending time with your parents and reaping the benefits of having your mom take care of you for a few days. 

You were standing in your childhood bedroom, packing up some stuff to bring back with you on your drive back to Calgary the next morning. You finished packing and slipped on your outfit for the game, putting on the Kassian jersey you’d packed. You hear Hannah beep her horn outside of your parents house, and you head out the door to see her.

“You didn’t actually buy that,” Hannah shakes her head in disbelief, thinking you were kidding when you’d told her about the jersey a couple of weeks prior.

“If Matthew gets to spend every waking moment of his life irritating me, I’m going to do the same back,” You shrug, “Plus we’re in Edmonton, it’s fine.”

Hannah sighs, “I wish I understood you guys.”

The rest of the car ride is spent catching up on how you’d both spent the last few days. Arriving at the arena, you both head in, sitting at the seats Noah had gotten for the both of you. You were right against the ice, on the Flames side of course, watching them skate for pregame warm ups. You see Noah spot you, shaking his head at your choice in jersey. You see him skate over to Matthew and point in your direction, the curly haired menace turning his attention over to you. His nostrils flare out, and he skates directly into the boards in front you, knocking your beer on the ledge to the ground.

“I cannot stand you,” You say, annoyed you’d have to go get another drink.

“Look at what you’re fucking wearing,” You hear him say before skating away, spending the rest of warm ups away from you.

“He’s mad Y/N,” You hear Hannah say, pointing to Matthew across the ice.

“Good,” You say, sipping on the beer you had to go get after Matthew knocked the first one over.

The game was off to a hot start, and hits were flying in true Battle of Alberta fashion. The entire crowd was waiting to see if Matthew would finally drop his gloves with Kassian after the media circus that ensued after their last meeting. When he finally does, you feel Hannah grab your arm, taking your attention away from your phone and you look up watching Matthew square up against Kassian. You watch him throw punch after punch, finally knocking him to the ground, Matthew looking over at you as he skates over to the box.

The rest of the game was intense, ending in a 3-4 shootout win for the Flames. You head to the locker rooms, waiting outside for Noah. The team starts to roll out one by one, looking exhausted from the hit heavy game they just played.

“You’re not actually wearing that right now,” You hear Johnny say, laughing as he comes up to you, “You must have put Chucky’s mind in a blender.”

“I’m sure he’ll recover,” You say, spotting Matthew leaving the locker room, making a beeline over to you.

“Sorry I had to give your boy a beating tonight,” He says, still a little mad at you.

“Yeah I just love him, the whole team actually,” You say, trying to rile him up.

He glares at you, before leaning down and whispering in your ear, “Nineteen’s a better number for you don’t you think?”

You ignore the chill that climbs up your spine when he places his hand on the small of your back, “Over my dead body.”

Matthew shakes his head and walks down the hallway to head back to the team’s hotel, not letting you know that seeing you in that Oilers jersey made his skin crawl.

--

When you arrive back in Calgary, you’d gotten four texts from Matthew, asking you if you’ve gotten back to your apartment yet. When you finally do, there’s a box at the door, a large red bow on top. Your gut says it’s from Matthew, and your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the box and revealed a Flames jersey, the number nineteen glaring at you. You pick up the card and nearly gag at the writing

Looks better than orange and blue babe - Matty

You think about tossing the jersey in the trash like you’d done with every bouquet of flowers he sent you, but you something wouldn’t let you. You leave the box on the island in your kitchen, deciding you’ll do something about it later. You set down the box and look at your phone, checking your texts to see Hannah had texted you to see if you were going to meet her out after Noah’s game tonight. You debate it internally for a moment, but decide to go out.

--

Later that night, you arrive at the bar and instantly spot the large group of hockey players standing in the corner. You walk over and immediately hear the sound of Matthew’s laugh, giggling at some stupid joke he probably told. You catch up with everyone and head over to the bar to grab a drink. While you’re waiting to get the bartender’s attention, you feel a hand on the small of your back and turn around to see Matthew standing behind you.

“You look incredible tonight,” Matthew whispers in your ear, flagging down the bartender with ease.

“I can’t believe you followed me over here,” You say, turning your back to him.

“I can’t believe you don’t want to be with me,” Matthew says, “We’d make such cute babies.”

Matthew drones on about how if you guys had kids, they’d probably have his hair but he wants them to have your smile. It would be cute if you didn’t know he was doing it to get under your skin. Your eyes scan the bar, seeing a group of girls pointing to Matthew and whispering, probably about the Flames resident pest being out at the bar. 

“Don’t you have a fan club to entertain,” You say, nodding your head towards the girls.

“I could talk to you all night and I’d still take one of those girls home,” Matthew smirks back at you and while you’d usually feel your blood boil at the comment, you felt something different. A pang of jealousy washes over you at the thought of Matthew giving his attention to someone who wasn’t you. You’d had it for so long, and something in your gut said you didn’t want anyone else to have his attention the way you did. You look at him for a moment, taking his blue eyes and crooked smile, and relishing in the way his hand on your back feels.

You sigh, “You could just take me home.”

You see Matthew choke on his beer, “I can - I - what?”

You giggle at his reaction, his usually cocky demeanor diminishing as you finally decide he can have what he wants, “You can take me home,” you repeat again, running your fingertips along his arm.

“You’re fucking with me,” Matthew says in disbelief.

“I’m not, but you have to promise me something,” You say and he nods, prompting you to finish your statement, “I can still plan the wedding.”

Matthew laughs at the reminder of what he told you at Sean’s party, “You can have whatever you want babe.”

You grab his hand and lace his fingers with yours, leading him out of the bar and into his car. Matthew knew that once he finally got you, he wasn’t going to let you go.