#but when we got back in the truck it was back to being tense. we still didn't go home- we went to the bank so he could cash a check

[agentartemus]

I thought today was a good one..

[nikkicloudie]

When I was your man...

Husband!Tyler Owens x Wife!Reader, Ex!Javi Rivera x Ex!Reader

Summary: 5 years ago you used to date Javi Rivera before the incident with your friends. You, Kate, and Javi all go your separate ways. What happens if 5 years later you all reunite and Javi sees you again married to a certain cowboy?

warning: Language, Javi being jealous, Mentions of sex but none, Javi is kinda an asshole and leaves a hand mark on Reader (you) and kisses you, use of Y/N

"Here let me help ya down sweetheart," Tyler says holding out his hand and helping you down from his truck as fans surrounded the truck of the run-down hotel with music blasting "Who that?" Kate asked Javi in the distance Javi rolled his eyes "Tyler Owens" he said before Scott jumped in "Hillbilys with a YouTube channel" Kate looked at the crowd as Tyler started to hype up the crowd.

After all the chaos some people started to leave pleased to have met The Tornado Wranglers. "Y/N?" you heard someone say behind you. You turned around to look at them "Kate? Hey" you said as she smiled at you "So I still see you Tornado Chase" She said holding her clipboard "Ya" You said looking at her just then you heard a familiar voice behind her "Kate you ready for-" Javi stops in his tracks as he sees you. "Y-Y/N?" he said before smiling nervously "Hey how are you doing" He said before hugging you tightly. He felt your body tense up as you slowly hugged him back. "Hey Javi," You said before slowly pulling away "I'm alright..you?" you asked him as he smiled "Been better but more happy to see you"Just then you felt an arm around you.

"Hey sweetheart," Tyler said looking at Javi "Javi.." he said as Javi started to connect the dots "Your dating Tyler Owens!?" he said his voice getting angry as Tyler smirked cocky "Married actually" he showed Javi your wedding ring "Married?! What the fuck!?" Javi yelled as Kate pulled Javi back "Javi we have to go.." she said dragging him away to his group and his van. Tyler kept on smirking watching him get dragged off "Didn't like how touchy he was being had to come to rescue ya" He said stealing a kiss from your lips as you giggled.

"So that's your ex?" Tyler chuckles "Really upgraded since then" He smirked at you as you frowned "Me and Javi didn't end on good terms but don't say that about him..." You said as Tyler looked at you

"He dumped you and you worried about his feelings still sweetheart?" he said raising his eyebrows, making you frown more at him. "Just forget it hon," he says grabbing your hand and walking to your hotel room with you.

A few days went by and the air felt tense you could cut it with a knife Javi kept looking at you trying to find any chance to talk to you without Tyler and anyone else around "Why him?! Out of everyone you married him!?" he yelled as you kept walking away from him. As you kept walking he pulled you back to him and made you look at him. His face was angry "I'm talking to you" He said in a whisper "You dumped me Javi not the other way around...you have no right to choose who I marry and who I don't...you, not my boyfriend anymore... I like to keep I that way.." you said pulling your arm away and look at the hand mark he left. "Don't you remember all the good times we had..." he pleaded with you like that would change your mind.

"Y/N..." he said leaning in close to your face "Remember all the fun times...when we went out...when we stayed in...when we got drunk and we would have the best sex ever...?" he said with hurt in his eyes "Javi.." but before you could finish he grabs your cheeks and pulls u in for a kiss. You jump back quickly "Javi what the fuck!?" you yelled at him as he stared at you "I.." you didn't let him finish "I'm married! And you can't just come back into my life 5 years later after dumping me feeling sorry for yourself!" you kept yelling which made a lot of people including Kate and Tyler who looked at each other and started to walk towards you both.

"What's going on here?" Asked Kate before Tyler was by your side quickly "You harassing my wife?" Tyler asked his voice getting serious which was a very rare sight. Javi looked at you "Y/N....remember when I was your man...?" he asked his voice still pleading with you. You felt Tyler's body tense up at Javi's words and he clenched his jaw in anger as Kate pulled him away again as he kept yelling. Tyler looked at you "What was that about..?" he says "I-I don't know!" I said and he sighed and grabbed your hand and kissed your wedding ring before pulling you to him gently and hugging you as you hugged him back.

Tadaaaaaaa all doneeee!! Lmk if you like!! send as many requests as you want!!

Part 2 coming soon:

[hyperfixiation-station]

🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.

My Heart Will Go On

Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)

TW: Blood, torture, manipulation

Pairing: GhostxReader

Part 2

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.

You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.

Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.

“Ghost, do you copy?”

“Ghost?”

“Price?”

“Gaz?”

“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.

Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.

“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.

“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.

“‘M not! I don't-"

“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.

“But I’m-”

“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”

“I wasn’t ask-”

“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.

“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"

You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.

All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.

“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)

“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.

Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.

"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.

"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."

"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.

He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.

"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.

"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.

Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.

But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.

“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-

“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”

“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”

“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”

"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.

"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."

"I…you…I have to do affirmations."

"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.

"Again."

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

"Again!"

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ghost?"

"Simon?"

"Please."

"Why are you not coming for me?"

just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,

anyways I hope you liked it!!!!

[abbyromanoff]

can i request little reader and mommy wanda, and they go to a park and little misbehaves and acts like a brat and gets a punishment for being a brat (this is the longest red light ever)

…HATE ME?

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1065

WARNINGS: angst, little reader, mommy!Wanda, silent treatments, Wanda feels down because of R, R also feels down bc of Wanda, not spell checked tbh, think that’s abt it :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your lip jittered as you whimpered, your pleads going silenced to the older woman. She sat on the couch with a book in her hands, her reading glasses perched on her nose as she flipped each page without digesting it entirely, but you didn’t need to know that.

“Mommy, ‘m sorry!” You felt tears pooling at your eyes and huddled your stuffie closer to your chest before rushing upstairs to your room. You closed the door behind you and removed every blanket and pillow from her side of the bed before placing your stuffed animals in the now unoccupied area. It was a rule of hers to not have toys on the bed, and if you did, it was only one or two that you slept with alongside her. Other than that, they were saved for play time only.

You huffed angrily and closed your eyes, intending on falling asleep until that came to a short fail. You couldn’t stop recalling the previous activities that led to this moment that had guilt gnawing at your heart.

“Baby, not today, okay? It’s too chilly for ice cream right now, and you’re already freezing!” She exclaimed her words with a rub to your arms that filled with goosebumps from the chilled wind. You glared at her after your pleading eyes did not work the way you wished, and she exaggerated a pout in return.

“That’s not fair! I wan’ ice cream!” Your hands balled into fists and your nostrils flared, your angered expression making Wanda audibly aww.

“My little cutie! Why don’t we just head home, lay down, watch a movie.” She dragged out, hoping it would bring back your excitement and tempt you into giving up.

“No, I don’ wanna go home until I have ice cream!” She sighed, annoyed that her suggestion did not work and you were still upset.

“Look, I said no ice cream, alright? Just be a good girl and listen to mommy, yeah?” She knew you always fell for the title, but there was something so strong about this truck that was now leaving that had it blanking your mind.

“No fair! I hate you, mommy!” You saw her facial expressions shift as her eyes widened with slight red behind them. You felt the hand that had been holding your wrist tighten, and her head titled to the side menacingly.

“You want to repeat that word for me?” You had come to realize your mistake and cowered down, gulping as you struggled to form a coherent sentence or thought.

“I…I didn’ mean it-“

“You didn’t mean it? So you didn’t mean to say you oh so proudly just how much you hate me? You said it, didn’t you? Fucking shit,” She mumbled the curses under her breath. “And here I thought I had trained my little girl well.”

“No, you did, mommy! I swear, you did! I didn’t mean to say it, I really, really didn’t.” She shook her head disapprovingly, guiding you to the car quickly as you struggled to follow behind her.

“Hurts, mommy.” You mumbled in hopes she’d listen, but that came to a quick end when you were pushed into the backseat.

“I’m sorry, mommy, I really didn’t mean it.” She ignored you the rest of the ride, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel and slightly filling the tense silence. You knew you were done for when you got home.

You heard the door close behind the woman as you refused to turn and look at her, knowing deep down it was all you wished for. You squeezed your eyes even tighter and pretended to be asleep, although Wanda knew you weren’t. She walked to the closet and sorted through a selection of clothes aimlessly.

“Mommy?” You eventually gave in, and Wanda did not turn to look in your direction.

“Please stop ignoring me! It’s hurtin’ my feelings,” You chewed your lip and rubbed your legs together for the warmth she did not supply.

“Oh, it hurts your feelings?” She asked, and that was the first time she had spoken in what felt like years. You sat up now, bringing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.

“Mhm.”

“Because it really hurt mommy’s feelings when you said you hated her, but that doesn’t matter?” You looked down in shame and she hummed, now stepping out of the small room and walking closer to your proximity.

“Now, I know you were upset that you weren’t getting what you wanted, but that gives you absolutely no right to be mean and say such horrible things to mommy.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You spoke lowly, your voice full of shame. She crossed her arms over her chest and placed a knee on the bed that was filled with your toys, but she didn’t seem to notice or care at the moment.

“I know you are, but that doesn’t change what you did.” You shook your head in agreement with her words.

“I- I was upset and I really wanted ice cream but I was really, really mean to mommy and I didn’t mean to, and ‘m really, really, really sorry.” She didn’t respond and you worried she didn’t forgive you. You were about to plead her once more before she stood and began walking to your side of the bed where you sat so anguished. She then placed herself in front of you and put her hands on your knees before leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I know you are, baby.”

“You forgive me?”

“Not exactly, but I’m not mad at you anymore.” A smile began to grow on your face and she pinched your cheeks at the sight.

“Does that mean you won’ ignore me now?”

“I won’t ignore you anymore, my love.”

“And does that mean we can have ice crea-“

“Woah, woah, woah, I think we’re getting a bit too far now.” You giggled and she followed before scooting your stuffies to the side and making space for her own body to fit. She pulled you in closer and placed a kiss on your lips this time, sighing into it as she wrapped her arm around your body. She knew you could never hate her, and she knew she could never hate moments like this even if it meant she had to live out what led to it.

[slutforfictionalwomen]

Supposed to be a thrill

Kinktober day 1

Rhea Ripley x Fem Reader

Main kinks: Bondage, bloodkink, knife kink.

Word count: 1,6K

Summary: Rhea takes Reader Halloween shopping. What Reader doesn't know is that Rhea has entirely planned out a surprise for when they get home.

Warnings: Slight manipulation, smut, knife play, blood play, bondage, cunnilingus, strap on use, pet names. (Please tell me if I missed anything)

POV Reader

Excitedly, I get into Rhea's black truck as she told me to. I check my pulse while waiting for Rhea to finish up, it's high. This is something I've been looking forward to for so long, getting Halloween decorations with my dark, older girlfriend who is the love of my life.

"You seem tense, baby," Rhea notices as she hops onto the driver's seat. As always, I squirm at the nickname and don't bother to hide the blush on my face.

"Just excited. This is my first full Halloween with my favourite person." I cannot hold back the wide smile on my face. Luckily, this woman of my dreams knows how deeply I feel things. With all the before, I've had to keep in the emotions I felt. With Rhea, I can feel when I feel and stare blank when I don't have any emotions to show on my face at all.

I hear the engine of the car start. Rhea nods, with one of those smiles that seem to make time stop. "I'm glad to hear that, darling. Just don't get your heart too worked up, I know how overwhelming things can be for you." We drive away from our house, to Rhea's favourite shop for Halloween stuff. That's what she said, at least.

About fifteen minutes later, we walk into a theme shop that has almost entirely been transformed into a Halloween shop. "I love this so much," I say wide eyed.

"Well, go ahead and take a look." That's how we get started, looking for anything fitting our spooky aesthetic. At some point, Rhea leaves my side for a few minutes, saying she's getting a particular object that she knows they sell here, but it's a surprise.

When we get home, we each put down a paper bag full of stuff. It's around eight pm, we ate food at a place on the way home. I still don't know what Rhea bought as a surprise, she told me to go to the car when she paid. "Can I now know what you got?"

Rhea looks me up and down as I'm sitting on the table. "No princess, that's for later. Go take a shower first." She takes a step forward, pressing a loving kiss on my head. I agree to taking a shower, but I'm still curious.

After a hot everything-shower during which I sung my heart out to my favourite songs, I have completely forgotten about the surprise. I get into some comfy clothes in our bedroom. I'm putting on a hoodie when I hear the light switching off and our LED light being plugged in. "Well baby, I see you've put on some clothes, but it's time to take them off for me again."

I didn't hear Rhea coming in, but now she's speaking in her dominant voice, which immediately makes me react. I pull the hoodie back over my head. As soon as it's on the floor, Rhea's behind me tying a blindfold over my eyes. "Rhea, what is this?" Before I know, I'm being thrown onto the bed.

"Time for your suprise," she says with a ring in her voice, feigning innocence. "Do you remember the rules?"

Of course I do. Speak only when spoken to, use mistress to adres her, safeword when needed. "Yes, mistress."

"Such a good little girl." Her hands are on my body, ripping off my shirt and underwear. "Are you gonna be a nice girl for me? Are you gonna make me proud?"

Before I can answer, she collapses her lips into mine. She's so rough but loving at the same time. I reach my hands up to pull her closer, but she is faster and pushes my wrists above my head with one hand. Abruptly, she pulls away. I reach for her, but I can't feel her anywhere.

"Oh baby, I'm just getting some stuff to start the fun." I hear her voice quite far away, on the other side of the room. Though a few seconds later, a rope is being wrapped around my arm. I feel her lips close to my ear. "I'm going to spread you out nicely so I can see your entire bare body, even that pretty pussy of yours. Or should I say mine? We all know who that pussy belongs to, and every other part of your body."

"I'm yours mistress," I say, falling into subspace. Both my ankles and wrists are being tied to each corner of the bed, spreading me out like she said she was going to do. When she's done, she climbs up my body to kiss me.

"Yes princess, you're mine." She kisses down my body, stopping right above my desperate heat. I groan in frustration. "Shh baby. You're so wet for me, so needy. But I have one more little surprise for you." She gives my pussy a quick kiss, but immediately shifts on the bed.

A few seconds later, something sharp is pressed onto my inner thigh. It doesn't hurt, but I flinch at the feeling. "Easy baby, it's just a pretty little play knife. Actually, it's not, but it's our play knife now, only for you. I wish you could see how pretty the design is, but that would spoil the fun, wouldn't it?"

I moan when she presses it down a bit harder. It doesn't slice the skin, but it hurts a bit more now. I can feel it is sharp, but I kind of like that. "Are you going to let me use this on you? Are you gonna be my good girl?" Rhea's dominant voice is low and sultry, she takes away the knife from my thigh.

"Yes, mistress." As soon as the words leave my mouth, hers is on my pussy. I feel metal pressing against my throat, which makes me yelp and try to stay as still as possible. Her tongue flattens and laps my clit with passion, if it wasn't for the knife against my throat I would be bucking my hips up into her face.

"Hmm do you want me to make you come? You're doing so well, darling." Her words make me whine loudly. Her knife leaves my throat again, but also her lips leave my body.

"Mistresssss," I pout. I feel her fingers on my nipples, teasing my body.

"You didn't think I was just gonna let you come, did you?" She chuckles. "Dumb baby. You have to earn that, and I know just the right way." She yanks on one of the ropes when I shift my body and presses the tip of the knife into the skin of my left thigh. "Can I mark you? Just two letters, just my initials. I'll then let you come, I promise."

I'm a bit afraid of it, but I do really want to come. I know it's manipulative, but I also know that she cares about me. She'll make sure nothing bad happens to the wound. "Okay, mistress," I answer with a small voice.

"Oh princess, I love you so much." She leans down to kiss me, making me taste myself. When she pulls away, her knife is back on my thigh. I yelp when I feel the first slice.

"Rhea!" The second slice comes fast after my slip out. I know I have to call her by her title, but I couldn't help it. I try not to act up, but I cannot help the tears rolling down my cheeks. The second 'R' is now being carved into my inner thigh.

"That's a good baby!" Immediately after the praise, her tongue meets my thigh, lapping up the droplets of blood. I hear how she hums, I know she's a menace, but I kind of love that about her. Within mere seconds, her tongue is back on my bundle of nerves.

Her lips wrap around my clit, sucking on it. That's when my legs start to tremble uncontrollably. The knifeplay has worked me up more than I knew, and I'm not far away from the edge.

When I think I can't hold it anymore, I know I have to ask whether I can if I don't want to be punished. "Please mistress, can I come?"

For a few seconds, I don't get an answer, and then I finally hear her voice. "Come for me, baby." It is all that it takes for my orgasm to rip through me. I whine out and yank on my ropes, but of course they won't budge.

I feel how my legs are being freed, but not for long. "You didn't think it was over yet, did you?" Rhea chuckles as she ties the ropes of my ankels up to where my wrists are tied, so I'm tied in her famous 'Pretzel pin'.

For a few seconds I don't feel her contact, but then her fingers are on my sensitive clit. All of a sudden, a strap is being pushed inside of me. "Mistress!" I scream as she immediately starts a pounding pace.

It feels really good, but again, tears start to roll down my cheeks. I feel how she wipes them away with the hand that isn't on my hip, and then uses that same hand to circle my clit with her fingers.

Her hips meet my thigh with every hard, fast, deep thrust. It almost hurts, but it feels so good. I know I'm making an awful lot of noise, but I can't bother to even try keeping it down.

When I start to yank on my ropes again, Rhea already knows what's going on. She knows how overstimulated I am, and how badly I want to finish.

"Come for me like the filthy slut you are."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.

Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.

“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”

“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”

“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.

“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”

“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.

“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”

“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”

You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”

“Don't I know it.  He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”

You exhale, “mom.”

“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”

“Ma, you don't know–”

“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”

“Oh, ma–”

“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”

“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.

“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.

“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”

“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”

You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.

����

Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.

As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?

He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.

He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”

“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”

His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”

You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”

“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly. 

Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”

“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.

He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.

“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”

“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.

“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”

“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.

“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”

“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.

“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”

“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”

“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”

“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you. 

“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”

You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: Rafe x Nanny Reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside was dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: Angst, mention of drugs, (Let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 4.8K

A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter. I got a stomach bug and it's been kicking my ass

Chapter 7: Will we ever be enough?

A thumping noise stirred you from your sleep. Footsteps make their way closer to the bed, quick steps slightly muffled. Crap did you not lock the door last night? The bed shifts right next to you, the person resting their weight there. Your eyes are screwed shut hoping that Rafe will go away and not bother you right now. “Hey get up.” The voice is feminine definitely not Rafe. Peaking one eye open you see Wheezie sitting in front of you. Jumping up, you give her a big hug, pulling her super close. “Jesus you’re going to squeeze me to death.”Even though she protests, her arms are squeezing you just as tight. 

“Sorry I just missed you.” You say as you pull back. Looking at the alarm clock you see that it is nine in the morning.  “What happened while I was gone?” Wheezie’s words cause you to freeze, shoulders tensing at the thought of the past week. “Why would you think that something happened?” Your words spew out more than coming out calmly like you intended. She just gives you a strange look, her eyes glint behind her glasses. Her stare is making you squirm in your spot, it’s like she was deciphering what was plaguing your mind.

“Well I have been gone a whole week so wanted to see what you were up to. But now I’m thinking something actually did happen.” Her look is questioning, wanting you to tell her what happened but mostly to see if she was right in her thoughts. One of her friends had texted her saying she saw you and Rafe together in his truck. She didn’t believe them at first, I mean come one there’s no way. Everything Rafe did seemed to annoy you, to be fair he had that effect on everyone. But to think that of you two together was weird, Wheezie wouldn’t mind it would just take some time to get used to.

“Nothing happened. It was a boring week without everyone.” You nonchalantly say, shrugging it off and getting up from the bed. Since everyone was back it’s best if you got ready and did something today. “So nothing made Rafe destroy part of the living room last night? Dad was pretty mad when he saw what Rafe did.” Your actions hault, the shirt in your hands slipping back to the drawer it came from. “Rafe did what?” You practically shout as you turn to her. “When we got home today dad found Rafe in the living room. It looked like he was throwing some stuff around last night. I’m surprised that his yelling didn’t wake you up.” She watches you as you gather your clothes, not really saying anything.

“It’s okay if something did happen, I wouldn’t be upset.” Wheezie is being honest. The more she thought about it the more she realized it would be nice. You are already part of the family and she loves you. Not to mention Rafe seems happier around you, she noticed that he isn’t as rude or violent when you are around. It made her happy to see him like that. It brought her back to when she was really young and Rafe cared about her before he changed. It was comforting for her to know that even in all that hate, her brother was still deep down there just waiting to come out.

She just watches as you keep your back turned to her, walking to the bathroom. Right before you walked in you looked over your shoulder at her. “Nothing happened Wheeze.” With that you went in, getting ready for the day. Letting the hot water melt away the tension in your body. When you got back into your room Wheezie was laying on your bed scrolling through tiktoks. “Can I just say I missed the internet while I was gone. Getting up to date on everything in one morning is very tiring.” She exaggerates flopping her body around once she hears you enter. “You were only gone for a week. How much could you have possibly missed?” You detangle your hair as she keeps talking. 

“You don’t get it. All of my friends have been going to the parties now, things happen at those. Like this one guy was caught making out with another girl besides his girlfriend at the bonfire the other day. Can you imagine that? What a dick to even hookup with someone when you are seeing someone else.” By the look on your face she can tell that she messed up. That the fun story she thought would lift your moods actually seemed to make it worse. Her eyes widened when she realized that you were the girlfriend and Rafe was the dick that two timed you. Can’t really say girlfriend but the notion still stands, he was seeing you and then did that.

“Oh my go-” “Why don’t we go off the island and do something fun today? It's not even elven yet so we can catch the ferry and go shopping or something.” Your words are rushed, kinda mumbling together from how fast they came out. It’s one thing for Wheezie to be prying into what happened over this week. Now it's another thing for her to be connecting the dots just by telling one story. You know she can tell you were a part of it, the look of sorrow has infiltrated her face. She just doesn’t have to know that Rafe was the guy that hurt you like that. She says your name.

“Wheeze drop it.” If only your words were that simple or that Wheezie actually listened. “I’m sorry I didn’t kno-” 

“Wheeze it’s okay. I was seeing some guy and he was apparently seeing other people as well. It sucks but it happened. All I can do is move on and not let it get to me. Now get up and let’s go. We have the day ahead of us.” Reluctantly Wheezie gets up and follows you out of the room. Just as you were about to get to the stairs the door to Rafe’s room opened, causing the two of you to meet face to face again. His eyes are red, you can’t tell if it’s from crying or being high out of his mind. Rafe’s eyes flicker around your face and catch the glimpse of Wheezie behind you.

All he wants is to grab you by the arm and drag you into his room. That way you would be forced to talk to him. Let him explain how he doesn’t want to hurt you, how he doesn;t want to be the person you are afraid of. He can handle the frightened looks from others, the ones that scream he’s a psycho but he can’t handle it from you. He doesn’t want to be like your dad, he doesn’t want to make you feel small. Rafe just wants you to smile again, to hear your laugh even just for a moment. Then he remembers the look on your face last night. The disgust as he tried to explain himself. Just that reminder was enough for the steel walls to come back up and for him to brush past you like nothing.

“What no comment today?” Wheezie jests at her brother, testing out the waters. If she’s right she has to know. “Nothing to comment about. Stop being a little shit.” Rafe snaps back, continuing his trek down the stairs. It shouldn’t sting this much knowing he has nothing to say to you. It still does, a sharp pain radiating in your chest, constricting and then relaxing before repeating the cycle. Once you get by the front door you realize that your car is still broken down at John B’s. “You have got to be kidding me.” You whisper

“What’s up?” Wheezie asks. “I totally forgot that my car broke down yesterday and we now have no way to the main island.” Just before the other girl can answer, Rafe interrupts. “I can take you, Just get in the truck.” His keys jiggle in his hands as he walks to the door. “NO!” Wheezie yells making the both of you look at her. Rafe gives her a look, to anyone else they would be scared but she just rolls her eyes at him. “It’s supposed to be a girls day hence no boys allowed. I see Sarah pulling in anyway, we’ll just ask her if she wants to tag along.” She explains as she drags you out the house and into Sarah’s car without any warning.

“Wheeze what the hell?” Sarah exclaims, staring at the youngest sibling for answers. “Drive Rafe is trying to take us to the mainland because someone's car is broken.” The explanation was all she needed to put the car in drive and speed off. “You told her about Rafe? I knew you were close but I thought you would keep that one to yourself.” Wheezie shrieks. “It was Rafe! I knew it.” Her words die down as you disconnect from the conversation. You look at the back window to catch as Rafe walks out locking eyes with yours as you leave.

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“What do you think about this one?” You ask, holding up a top to your chest. “I like that color on you.” Sarah points out, grabbing a few tops to try on. “Yeah maybe Rafe will get jealous when he sees how many people hit on you.” This is the third time Wheezie has mentioned him since Sarah accidently spilled the beans.The first was in the car directly after. “When did it start? Like where you and Rafe always a thing or did this just happen? I’m just confused by this.” Sarah had shot her a death glare and told her to cut it out.

The second time happened two stores in on your shopping spree. Well more like taking them shopping as you get a few things for yourself. “I’m sorry Rafe did that to you. I stand by what I said earlier he’s a dick.” You just sighed, pushing some jeans around to find your size. “Don’t say that he’s your brother. He messed up but that’s a part of being human. I can be upset because he hurt me but you can’t fault him for making a mistake.” You eye her by peripheral vision.

“He hurt you and you’re upset about it. I’m upset he hurt you.” She huffs. “Exactly Wheeze he hurt me. I have a right to be upset with him. He didn’t hurt you, it’s sweet that you care about mt. He’s still your brother and making mistakes is a part of life, don't be too hard on him, okay.” You place a hand on her shoulder rubbing a small circle. “Fine but I still think he’s dumb.” You chuckle as Sarah walks over. “What do you think?”

Which brings you back to third, now. “I don’t need him to be jealous. It doesn't matter.” You put the top back and dig around for more. “So you wouldn’t care if you saw Rafe with someone else?” Bile tries to crawl it way up and you have to try hard to keep it down. The thought  alone was awful enough to make you feel like crying. “Wheeze leave her alone.” Sarah scolds her younger sister. Trying to convey that this is not the time to be talking like that. “No it’s okay. I wouldn’t care, he can do whatever he wants.” Lie.

It would crush you, physically break you. You’ve always been a second choice your whole life. Parents always loved each other more than you. Most of your friends from school don’t even talk to you, deciding it was better to cut you out and all stay friends. Second in your family, second in social life, and now second in love life. Seeing him happy with another person would hurt the most. 

Rafe was one of the only people who seemed to actually pay attention to you. Sure at first it bugged the shit out of you due to all the flirting. But you could see the way he noticed the small details about you. Asking about the current tv show you are watching even though you never mentioned it to him. Or when he gets Wheezie a treat and happens to get your favorite as well. Nothing with him felt like you were second best. Yeah you knew about his reputation with girls yet it didn’t matter because he never treated them like that. Now all you can see is how he did all of it just to sleep with you. It was never genuine and he never wanted something deeper. 

Giving up on finding any other clothes, you just watch as the girls shop. Giving input on which items they should get or what they should pair it with. It goes like that for a couple more stories until you all decide to go get an early dinner and head back to the island. Missing the Ferry would be a big inconvenience so it’s better to be early. 

“You know there’s this party going on tomorrow night. We should all go.” You and Sarah stare at Wheezie. Did she just really suggest going to a party together? “Wheeze I literally nanny you. Taking you to a party would probably get me fired.” You laugh while taking a bite of your chicken alfredo. “You’re practically Sarah’s nanny too and you go to parties with her.” She argues. “One Sarah is older than you and I am not her nanny. Two, you are just going into highschool. It would be weird if I was bringing you to parties or even encouraging that.” You argue back.

Truth be told you actually don’t want to go at all. If there’s a party then Rafe will be there, he always is. It’s bad enough you have to deal with him now at the house, seeing him outside would just be torture. “How about we stay in and watch movies?” You suggest, mostly hoping that she will take the bait. “Come on please can we just go? All of my friends are going to be there, I can’t be the only one not going.” Just as you were about to speak Sarah cuts in. “Wheeze she’s right. If dad found out you went to a party and she as so much even knew, he would fire her. Your friends shouldn’t even be going to those parties to begin with.” Who knew Sarah could be the word of wisdom.

Sighing, Wheezie gives up trying, rather choosing to finish her food. “You should at least go and have fun. Show Rafe what he’s missing.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you. You just look down at your plate, avoiding eye contact so you don’t have to answer her. “We should finish so we can head out before it’s too late.” The two other girls nod their heads. The rest of the dinner had awkward silence. No one knew what to say, you didn’t want to keep talking about Rafe but Wheezie had so many questions. Poor Sarah wanted to help you out but she also had questions.

The middle Cameron knew when she should leave topics to rest, knowing that pushing you too much would cause issues. From experience she knows you don’t like to share things, she only really knows basic things. Maybe a few more personal information but nothing too crazy. It never bothered Sarah because no matter what you are still a great friend. On the other hand it bothers Wheezie how closed off you can be. She has questions and she wants answers to them.

She’s curious on how this even started, was it you or was it Rafe? Had to be Rafe she thought. Did you want the two of you to be together? Duh or you wouldn’t be so heartbroken. But mostly she wants to know what Rafe could do to make everything okay. What he did still makes her upset but she believes that he’s better with you. The car and Ferry ride back home was just Wheezie thinking. She just had to get the two of you to see eye to eye. If she could do that then everything will be okay even better than okay.

“Hey John B just texted me to say that he and JJ fixed up your car.” Sarah looks over at you. The view from the Ferry turns into Sarah’s face as you pan over to her. “Really?” You shift in your seat, sitting up a little straighter. “Yeah I can take you once we get back. That way you can have your car.” You smile at the blonde girl thanking her. You just want to get home now, tired from the day.

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“Well hello there gorgeous.” JJ shouts from the dock next to John B’s House. Sarah had just dropped you off, taking Wheezie back home so she can be free for the night. “Hey Jayj! Heard you boys fixed up my car.” You smile at the boys making their way over to you. “That we did. Had a leak in your exhaust it caused the engine to stop running.” JJ slaps a hand on John B’s shoulder after the boy just explained the problem. “Don’t worry we fixed her up nice. It will getcha from point A to B in one piece. Hopefully.” JJ jokes thinking he’s funny like usual.

You roll your eyes at the blonde. “Haha, so funny. Can I get my keys now so I can leave? Wouldn’t want to intrude on your make out session.” You tease the boys. It’s been an ongoing joke since you had to watch them one time. They were in middle school then. You weren’t that much older but Luke didn’t like the thought of his son and no good friend alone. It was one of the very few times Luke spent money on his Boy. 

Them being young teen boys started hitting on you and you told them to go make out in the corner. From then on the joke took a life of its own. Anytime they annoyed you the joke always came flying out. “And I thought I was a comedian.” JJ huffs throwing the keys at you to catch them. “Now if you could leave we have some important business to attend to.” John B shoves him off pulling a face of disgust to the other boy. “Take him with you please he won’t leave me alone.”

You laugh as you walk to the car, unlocking the door and opening in. “If I wanted to take Jayj I would have just asked him to come along. It wouldn’t be fair to separate such a happy family.” You say as you get in and start the car. “Fuck you” They yell and flip you off, watching as you back out to the dirt road. 

It seems like when they fixed your exhaust they also put AC fluid in your car. The vents are now blowing cold air instead of hot like it's done for the last two summers. It makes the drive back more enjoyable. Not having to stick with the windows down that just blow hot air at you is life changing. No more muggy car rides that make your clothes stick to your skin. A new car, well slightly new, for a new start. Everything is going to work out.

That mindset was put to rest as soon as you stepped foot into the house. Yelling can be heard from down the hall. “What is so wrong with you that you can’t seem to stop yourself from fucking up?” Ward's voice echoes down the hall. “You can’t do anything right can you? I swear Rafe I wonder if you even are my kid. How could you when all you do is cause me headaches. Sarah isn’t like this, why can’t you be more like her?” Footsteps get close to you, panicking you try to leave but run into Wheezie. “I’m sorry I was just trying to ask him questions and dad overheard. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

She’s crying into your arms, her grip tight. “Wheeze what did you do?” Her glossy eyes look up at you. “I was asking him how he could mess up what you had. Dad overheard and then started yelling at him. I don’t know what to do.” You brush her hair to sooth her, feeling bad for the crying girl. “Where are they?”

“Dad’s study.” she squeaks out. “Okay. Go to your room, I'll find you after.” Your feet carry you closer to the room. Listening closely you can hear Rafe’s voice now. “Sarah? Are you fucking kidding me? Sarah has run off time after time with John B and the rest of them. She has left you more times than I can count and she’s still your favorite?” You can tell he’s hurt, you can hear it in his voice. This conversation is an exact replica to the others you have heard. 

“Don’t start this again. Just because you keep screwing up doesn’t mean you can bring Sarah down. She’s a kid, she’s still learning.” Ward yells back. “What about me?” Rafe yells. “I’m your kid too. I have done everything to make you see that I care. I’m the only one who actually wants to continue the family business. I’m the one who has had your back this whole time. Sarah doesn’t care about you, why can’t you get that.”

You are right outside the door now. Rafe and Ward are standing in the middle of the room staring at each other. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near the account now then you’re just as stupid as I think you are.” You gasp but thankfully it wasn’t heard. “What?” Rafe’s confused, he was promised this account before his dad left for the trip. “You heard me. I left you for a week and you screwed the nanny. On top of that you cheat on her and trash the house up. I don’t know how many times I have given you a chance and you never change.”

“Nah you gave me that account before you left. I fucked up I know but you can’t just take that from me. I’ve worked hard for it and you can’t deny that. You can’t just take this from me for a mistake.” Were you the mistake or making out with Sofia? You shake the thought out of your head, it doesn’t matter. “No Rafe, a mistake is forgetting to buy something at the store you need. You took something good and fucked it up like you always do. That girl is better off without you anyway.” Rafe’s shoulders deflate at his fathers words. “Yes I can take this account and I will. Clearly you can not be trusted for anything.” You see Ward move around the room, scared he will catch you, you try to back away. The only issue was the floorboard squeaking and giving you away.

Both men look toward the door seeing half of you standing there, the other half blocked by the door. Ward calls your name out. “Can you come in here please?” Reluctantly you make your way into the room, eyes trained to the floor. “How much of that did you hear?” Ward asks. You look up making eye contact with Rafe before looking at the older Cameron. “Practically all of it.” You answer.

“You’re wrong by the way. Rafe didn’t do anything wrong, we weren’t together. He’s free to do whatever he pleases. Wheezie caught on to what happened and took it too far because she thought she was helping me. I honestly don’t care that it happened.” Rafe’s eyes are burning into your face. “He shouldn’t be punished for living his life. I know I may be over stepping here and you might want to let me go. But it wouldn’t be right if I stood here and watched him get in trouble for something that isn’t a big deal.”

Your eyes meet Rafe’s again after you finish. The blues in his seem so dull, almost lifeless. “No one is going to fire you. You’ve been good to us, I'm not letting that go. I appreciate you defending him but he needs to learn to fight his own battles.” Rafe shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m not defending him, ‘m telling the truth.” They open again watching you closely. “Then I guess everything is fine. You can keep the account.” Wards simply states and walks out the room. 

Heavy breathing is the only thing heard in the room for a moment. “I don’t need your help. Save it for someone else.” Rafe tries to brush past you, your hand stops him from getting far. “Are you kidding me right now?” He just stares at you, blank stare meeting your angry gaze. “You shouldn’t have done that. I don’t need you to help me. I could have handled that myself.” A scoff leaves your lips, hand falling from his arm.

“I did it to be nice because no one deserves to be yelled at like that. If your head is too stuck up your ass to see that you shouldn’t be treated like that then I’ll see myself out. I don’t need you to yell at me for doing something nice for you.” You try to walk around him but he steps in front of you. “Exactly I don’t need you to do something nice after I hurt you. Oh sorry I forgot that it meant nothing so I shouldn’t feel bad. Should’ve known this was some sick ploy for you to be the better person.” His words strike you, their venom flooding your system.

“Is that what you really think about me? That I would go so low to make you feel shitty. News flash Rafe the world doesn’t revolve around you. I don’t spend my days planning ways to destroy your life. I hate the way he talks to you, always have and I won’t be the reason why. I meant everything I said when we were together. It’s okay that you didn’t but don’t make me feel bad for something I didn’t do.”

You walk past him, reaching the door when he speaks again. “I freaked out. Kelce was saying dumb shit and I freaked out. I didn’t think you wanted more so I just…” His sentences fall short, Rafe trying to tie the words together in his brain. “So you just decided to be with someone else?” You bite back, wanting him to feel the pain you are. He exhales, his walls building back up, blocking off the confession on the tip of his tongue. The hope you gave him when you said you hated how his dad treats him dies. She will never trust you. “Yeah, I just decided that.” It’s better to just agree with you. Arguing has gotten nowhere and the truth falls onto deaf ears. 

You may have confessed that you meant what you had said, yet it didn’t matter to him. The key word being meant in your sentence. It doesn’t matter if he wants to say how much he cares about you, that the thought of not having you physically pains him, or how these past two days he can’t do anything but take bumps of coke. None of it matters because however you felt was clearly long gone. It was time for him to do the same, he needed to move on from you. The way your eyes shine at him tell him how much you don’t care, how little he means to you.

The urge to be high is scratching Rafe’s insides as he just looks at you. The pain slowly fades to numbness as he looks at the hate in your eyes. The clear baggy full of white powder burns a hole in his pocket, begging him to take a hit. “I didn’t want to hurt you. You won’t have to worry about me again. I’m sorry.” This time it’s Rafe who is leaving you, walking into the hall and past you like nothing. 

“What do you mean I don’t have to worry about you?” Your voice wavers, worried about what he means. He just keeps walking, not paying attention to you. “Rafe.” He looks at you, eyes scanning your face. “I mean I won’t be in your way. I’ll stay as far away from you as I can. You’ll be happier that way.” With that he just leaves. He knew Ward was right, you are better off without him. He’s seen it first hand how happy you can be when he isn’t there to bring down the mood. 

Even if he did love you, he was too damaged to deserve you.

[rhinestonz]

☆ CAN WE GO HOME ? ☆

Honestly you barely understood that you were in this position. What did you do ? Well it wasn’t what you did, it was what others did. Or maybe , according to Gojo it was your fault for being so damn hot.

Bully!Satosugu x poc!reader. Double penetration. Dirty talk. Degradation. Overstim. Humiliation (?). Recording. 

You’d gotten used to these two tagging along with you anywhere. Just to make sure you weren’t acknowledging anyone other than them. You went to the mall today, your favorite place on earth maybe. At Least they played some purpose, holding your abundance of bags. You knew how they rolled, terrorizing anyone to even look your way, belittling your feelings towards anyone other than them. You knew how they rolled… and they definitely knew how you did.

A fucking attention whore, that’s what you were. I mean why would you wear pink miniskirts that barely covered anything. Or low cut tops ,and over cropped crop tops. Why would you wear anything that showed off that gorgeous body of yours to anyone other than them. It pissed them off , the way you shamelessly flirted with the store clerks as though they weren’t there. The way you bent over in front of everyone to check the price tag on some shoes. How much more of a slut could you be? 

You plopped down in the back of the car after checking your makeup in your compact mirror. Geto and Gojo packing your things in the truck before getting in the front seats. “ so you wanna fucking explain yourself? “ geto cursed , scowling at you through the rear view mirror. You popped your lips together , spreading your coating of pink gloss. “ Whatever do you mean ?” You exaggerated faux innocence. You saw the two tense up at your words. You were used to pissing them off, you loved to do so to get back at them fir how they tormented you in daily life. All it would amount to would be getting fucked when you got home… yeah not this time. 

 “ C-cmon, m’ sorry , just let me go home~' ' you pleaded. Your cheek rested against the leather of the seat. Geto’s nose runs along your pink folds. Face buried in your cunt from behind. His tongue overstimulating you beyond belief. Gojo sat in front of you. Dick slapping against your cheeks as a way to get your eyes to look into his phone camera. “Cmon~ smile“ he said, motioning his fingers to push his cheeks up. This fucking bastard. “ You wanna look pretty for the guys I show this to right ?“. Tears fell from your stinging eyes, “ n-no please ~ don’t… show anyone~” you managed to choke out between moans as Geto’s tongue explored every grove of your pussy. Your eyes rolled at the camera , tongue lolling out of your mouth releasing strings if drool. “ aww why not baby ? We might have to show it to the next loser you flirt with” Gojo teased, hands grabbing a fistful of your hair. 

Your ass stained red from Satoru’s relentless thrusts. Your eyes puffy , tears falling as they fell onto Geto’s cock. Maybe you did go too far today , he’d usually wipe them as you cried but not this time. He looked down on you with a smile as he pushed your head down, making your nose touch his v-line. “ awww~ too much baby?” he coed at you. You heard a low laugh from Satoru, “You think the store clerk coulda fucked tears outta ya?” He asked, slapping your ass , watching the fat if it ripple. Your whines resounded through the car  as well as small sobs when Satoru rubbed his finger along your clit. You cried, shaking your head no on Geto’s cock. “oh no but you must have thought he was better! , wouldn’t have acted like we don’t fuck your brains out every night infront if him then , slut” Satoru sassed as he watched you writhe around as he placed frequent harsh slaps to your clit . 

Just when you thought it was too much. It got worse. Your body was flipped around. Back flush against Geto. His hands around your wrist, holding your arms back. “ Are we not enough, baby ? We can give you more you know” he feigned concern. You let out a strained moan as you felt his cock ease into your cunt. But then you relaxed why he was holding you back. Your eyes widened as Satoru spread your legs, rough hands gripping your thighs apart. “ Wait,wait no~ no ~ Toru , Sugu-!'' your plea was cut by a shrill moan as your cunt was stretched to the brim. Two cocks filling up the small pink hole. Your tears ran from your eyes like droplets of rain on windows.  “Fuckkkkk~ that's enough for ya baby~” Gojo hissed out as he bottomed out. Your mouth hung open , strained moans spilling from your mouth. Your face burned in embarrassment as people walked by the windows. You knew the windows were tinted but Gosh did it make your face sting to know that a thin sheet of tint was stopping people from seeing how absolutely fucked you were. Two cocks showing in you at once. Geto kissing your cervix as Gojo pulled back for another harsh thrust. They work so fucking well together.

“ Fucking slut~ you thought we’d wait till we got home to put you in your place? ” Geto spat at you. His breath heavy as he thrusted up into you. You did think they’d wait, maybe that’s why you weren’t prepared. Or maybe it was the fact that your cunt was painfully full. Stretched out to fit both of their lengths. Tears fell from your eyes as you came. Squirting everywhere. Almost disgusted as some of the liquid landed on your face. Even more embarrassed as Gojo licked some of the fluid off of his face.  “F-fuc, you guys, cmon can we go home~?” you whimpered out, you’d been insisting this the whole time. Suddenly becoming aware that people could hear your pathetic moans and the sound of them smashing into you. Your arms strained against Geto’s grip. reaching to turn on the stereo to drown out your cries , however you couldn’t pull away from him.” Nah let em’ hear you baby ~!” he teased, chuckling as your body began to convulse. Your tummy caving in as your legs shook violently. Feet arching in the air. A scream ripped from your glossed lips that pierced the sound of their pounding. 

Your body went limp, chest heaving up and down. A small whine left you as Satoru’s dick pushed deeper against your cervix as he put his weight on you. Arms wrapping around you and Geto. The car filled with the sounds of your collective pants.  “Fuckk..” you huffed out, “ .. can we go home now?” You sighed. They chuckled as they kissed you. “ Yeah , maybe the store clerk will take you home,” Geto sassed. Somehow you felt a lil guilty now.“ M’ sorrryyyy, I don’t like him ,only want you guys~' ' You pouted. “ yeah we know '' they yawned , pulling away to cleft themselves before driving off. 

[randomshyperson]

Like Real People Do - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda Maximoff is known to be a strict mother - the opposite of you. When a school incident involves your children, you two will need to learn to get along with each other. [Requested]

Warnings: General Fluff, attempted romantic comedy with opposites attract, mild making out at the end, milf wanda being adorable, brief angst for past relationships, found family. | Words: 5.733k

A/N-> My first fic of the year will be Milf!Wanda without smut? What happened to this blog, huh? I was so busy in December that I couldn't post anything, I hope you guys didn't forget about me. This is a very old request that I finished some time ago and never posted, here it is then. Good reading you all!

General Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

It started with a bloody nose.

It was Wednesday, which meant that you had painting class from ten to eleven in the morning, so when your cell phone rang and Principal Fury's angry voice demanded you not to be late, you could barely think of a decent excuse for your students.

The way to the municipal school was quick and even perilous - you never learned how to drive Natasha's truck properly no matter how hard you tried - but you arrived quickly at least.

America was standing with her arms crossed at the door to the principal's office - the jeans jacket with buttons you took her to buy last year had a bloodstain on the front that made your heart miss a beat. 

"Mom!" Her sulky expression lit up the second she saw you - the girl uncrossed her arms and ran to catch up with you, talking too fast about the mess while you searched her face for bruises. You sighed in relief at not finding any.

"Honey, slow down, I'm not catching any words." You warn her gently, and America giggles awkwardly, taking a deep breath to speak again.

"It wasn't my fault, Mom! It was those idiots who came at us, Billy wasn't doing anything, and when they called him bad names and I just lost my temper and-"

You frown in confusion, but America shuts up because the boardroom door opens and other people come out.

The blood is not America's you realize. It's the boy with ice on his face, accompanied by an equally grumpy adult. The boy also has blood all over the front of his shirt, and from the way, America tenses up and he flinches, you understand that he has been beaten.

"Come on, don't give me any more trouble." Warned the man to the boy who practically ran out. The man waved goodbye politely, and you turned to America, ready to ask, but you heard Mr.Fury call your name.

The room was not empty. There were two boys and a woman in a suit so impeccable that you became very aware of the ink stains on your work overalls. Or maybe it was the way she looked you up and down, with an indecipherable expression.

"Mrs.Romanoff, how nice that you could join us at last." Fury pinned on your lateness, and you smiled awkwardly.

"Sorry, I was in class and my cell phone was off." You mumbled, but he didn't seem to care much, signaling for you to sit down.

America stood beside you but smiled at the boys, who smiled back immediately.

"As I explained to Mrs.Maximoff, something rather unpleasant happened this morning. Your children got into a fight with another group of classmates..."

"And where is the rest of the gang?" You asked curiously, looking around. Fury frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you said they got into a fight. Nobody fights alone. Where are the other children? I saw the other little boy who went outside looking like he got punched right in the nose, and if you told me it was three against one, then yes, we have a problem."

Fury exchanges a look with Mrs.Maximoff, but the redhead is straightening up in her chair, looking at you curiously.

The principal lets out a short laugh. "Miss Romanoff, the confusion started at recess, where America assaulted five classmates. The other four are in the infirmary and-"

You cut Fury off with excitement, turning to your daughter beside you. "Five? Kid, you've been practicing, haven't you? Damn, your mother would be impressed. "

America laughs shyly, but Fury exclaims indignantly. "Excuse me, Mrs.Romanoff, are you really encouraging violent behavior in your 13-year-old daughter?"

 "It depends on what the fight is about." You mutter, but Fury sighs indignantly.

"Violence is never the answer!" Retorts the principal seriously, but his line makes the boys exclaim indignantly.

"They were the ones who attacked us first! America was only defending my brother!" Reported one of them, and you and Mrs.Maximoff exchanged quick glances at the confusion.

"That's right, we were just standing there, and those idiots came at us with curses! If it wasn't for America-"

"Quiet, all of you!" Fury cut in angrily, and the children grumbled but obeyed. He massaged his forehead. "It's clear that the fight started with America, so please could you tell me exactly why you assaulted your colleagues, Miss?"

But America hesitates and looks at the boys, who bow their heads. She sighs.

"It was something silly about grades." She lies - You can see it’s not true because whenever she tells a lie, her forehead frowns slightly and Natasha taught you to recognize everything about little Miss Chavez. You don’t understand why she’s lying though. 

Fury sighs wearily. "Are you sure that's all it was, miss?"

She looks down at the floor and nods. You lick your lips.

"Fury, I wonder if we could talk alone. Just me, Miss Maximoff, and you? They shouldn't be missing class."

Fury hesitates but eventually agrees. Once the children leave, you clear your throat.

"I want to know what will be done with the group that attacked them, Fury."  You state without waiting any longer, surprising a little. Nick clears his throat.

"Your daughter just clarified that it was a silly argument over notes, Miss Romanoff, you don't expect me to-"

"You know it wasn't just that." To his surprise, Wanda intervenes, sounding irritated and tired. She takes a deep breath. "It wouldn't be the first time Billy experienced bullying in his school environment, but you promised me that this school was a safe space when I came to enroll them, Mr.Fury."

Nick clears his throat clumsily, adjusting his tie. "Mrs.Maximoff, at no time-"

"America told me they insulted him." You cut in, exchanging a look with the redhead. "The kids who attacked them came in cursing Billy. That's unacceptable, Fury. You say I encourage violent behavior? No. Natasha and I taught America to stand up for herself and for the people important to her. Nat was in the military and taught her how to fight. You can't expect her to listen to someone use low insults with her friends and do nothing."

"You cannot teach your daughter to punch anyone who irritates her, Miss Romanoff." Fury retorts seriously, before turning his face to the other, "And this is a safe environment, Wanda. We have anti-bullying programs, and when the other boys leave the infirmary, they will answer for this event as well. But for now, it's your kids who need to understand that fighting doesn't go unpunished."

"That doesn't seem very fair." You mutter but Fury casts you a serious look. 

"Because they insulted them? Tell me what happens when they're adults, then." You open your mouth but Fury holds up his hand, rhetorical question. "I tell you, at the very least a lawsuit for assault. I understand it's important to tell them to defend themselves, but they also need to understand how the world works. They are children, by god. You can't tell them to go out punching their way whenever someone wrongs them."

"I guess that's easy to say when we're not the ones experiencing the aggression." Wanda mutters, and Fury gives a short laugh.

"Wanda, I assure you I know the feeling of hearing horrible offenses and having to put my head down and keep walking because the punishments would be worse for me than for those who offended me." Says Nick. "Billy is only twelve, he should learn to respond to things like that in a healthy and safe way. Teaching any of these kids to respond violence with violence puts them at risk, and I'm sure you understand that." Wanda sighs but nods in defeat. Nick clears his throat. "I believe detention for a month is a good punishment."

You sigh, but Wanda hesitates. "They'd be out by three, wouldn't they? Couldn't you do it earlier or between classes? I work office hours on Tuesdays and Wednesdays..."

Nick opens his mouth but you speak first. "I can pick them up." You say casually. "They're friends with America, right? They can stay over if you need."

The redhead blinks in surprise. "Wouldn't that be inconvenient?"

You laugh shrugging your shoulders. "Not at all. America is usually alone in the afternoon while I'm in the studio. It would be nice if she had some company."

Wanda smiles at you and your stomach does a complete turn. Nick claps his hands together.

"I guess we have a deal then. Thank you both for attending, even though it was not the most pleasant of reasons... I'll keep in touch, Miss Maximoff, Miss Romanoff."

You got up first but opened the door for Wanda to pass. Outside, she seemed in a hurry, checking her cell phone, and you didn't want to hold her any longer. Surprisingly, she called you before you left for your car.

"I want your number." She declares, and you can't help the teasing expression that appears on your face. Wanda corrects herself immediately, "B-because of the ride, so I can confirm that everything is okay..."

"I know, I get it." You assure her with a laugh, accepting the cell phone she holds out to put your number in. As you type, you take the opportunity to introduce yourself properly since you haven't had the chance to do so before. Wanda smiles before doing the same. "Here you go, Miss Maximoff."

"Just Wanda is fine." She says gently, accepting the cell phone back. "Thank you again, for the favor."

"You can return it by joining me for coffee." You have no idea where that came from. And it seems to surprise Wanda as much as you surprised yourself. But there's no going back because she smiles and you know you meant it. "Or a tea, or juice. Maybe vitamin?"

Wanda giggles, and it's a charm. You glare at her but she looks at her cell phone again.

"Sorry, I have to go." She looks really disappointed, and you notice that her phone has started vibrating on a call. She looks at you again. "I'll text you about that coffee."

"I'll wait." You mumble, knowing she heard just by the soft smile she still holds as she answers the phone before waving goodbye and turning in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

You sigh loudly as you are left alone, trying to figure out where to see the strange feeling in your stomach that you think you haven't felt in years.

–//–

Wanda probably forgot about the coffee. You don't blame her, because America has every social network possible, and through her friendship with Billy Maximoff on Facebook, you are able to find Wanda Maximoff's only two social networks. 

Her professional profile is impeccable. She is an important figure in a major New York company, but you are not too sure whether she is a writer or a manager, or both. Either way, with so many meetings and lectures in her feed, she is probably the busiest person you have ever met. 

The only personal profile she has is a Facebook profile that hasn't been updated in almost three years. It is public, and has family photos - the vast majority with the twins - but what attracts attention is the tall man next to her. If the photos were tagged, it was removed today. There was no link to his profile. You also noticed that the relationship status was still Married, and tried to ignore the burning in your strangers with this information. 

There should be no problem with Wanda being a married woman. You should have expected this, actually. In fact, you shouldn't expect anything at all. Losing Natasha wasn't exactly recent, but you weren't looking for someone to take her place. Ever.

Calling Wanda for coffee was a kind act in the interest of friendship, you convinced yourself. After all, with your antisocial nature, you didn't have many friends in New York. 

America found you stalking Wanda's Facebook, however, and had a very different idea.

"She's a total milf, huh?"

You closed the laptop hard, looking at your daughter with indignation. "Excuse me, young lady?"

America shrugged. "Miss Maximoff, mom. She's so gorgeous, like a movie star. Everyone keeps staring when she comes to pick up the twins."

You grimace, hugging the laptop against your chest. "America, I don't think it's very appropriate for you to say such things to me, don't you agree?"

Your daughter laughs confusedly. "But you thought so too. You're just there stalking her on the Internet..."

"That's it, out." You stand up embarrassed, ignoring America's mischievous laughter in the hallway as you close the door. You grunt red-faced, putting your hands over your face and trying to get the image of Wanda out of your head. America shouts from the hallway:

"I'll order Enchiladas for dinner!" - You open the door just to say thanks.

To your surprise, Wanda texts you the next day. 

It shouldn't really be a surprise, since the children's detention would start now, but still, you were so busy delivering some paintings that you almost completely forgot about it.

Hey Miss Romanoff, it's Wanda. Is everything okay for the kids to stay at your place this afternoon as we agreed? After detention? 

You are listening to music, so you ask the virtual assistant to read the message while you continue painting one of the higher boards. When you realize who it is from, you almost fall down the stairs you are on.

Your cell phone screen smears blue paint when you pick it up in one go, having forgotten your dirty hands, and you curse softly. 

Trying to sound casual, you decide on a voice message.

"Hey, Miss Max-Wanda, hey." Great start. "Sure, don't worry, I'll send you my address to come to pick them up later. And just Y/N is fine."

Wanda replies with an emoji heart, and you try to understand why yours is racing so fast.

–//–

Thomas and William Maximoff are two little devils. And America loves them, so you do too.

They play in the backyard and in the living room, surprisingly in harmony over sharing the video game after detention. You go back to work in the studio and keep the music down so you can hear them, and before you know it, the hours have passed and a red pickup truck is pulling up outside your house.

Wanda, on the other hand, doesn't seem too pleased to see that none of the children have had a decent meal after school, or done their homework. And you showing up with a dirty paint apron doesn't seem to help her judgment much.

"I don't usually cook, for the safety of the kitchen."  You try to joke to ease the tension and get giggles from the smaller ones, but only a forced smile from the other, who continues with her arms crossed. "They're not hungry, you know. There were snacks and cookies..."

"Very healthy." Wanda interrupts wryly. "Get your backpacks boys, and thank them for having you. Let's go home before it gets later."

You and America watch Maximoff's hurried exit until Wanda's car disappears at the end of the street, and it is your daughter who speaks first.

"I think she likes you."

You chuckle incredulously, turning your face to America. "What gives you that idea? The deadly stare?"

The smaller girl rolls her eyes amused. "No, Mom! She didn't say she wasn't coming here anymore. And besides, Tommy told me she's kind of too straitlaced... he may have used the word crazy, but I don't think that's very appropriate for me to say."

You chuckle through your nose, ruffling America's hair as you pull her into the house with you. 

"Well, the boys are your friends, so Wanda is going to have to get used to me because if there's one thing we take seriously in this family it's loyalty to our friends, isn't it, little Chavez?" 

America smiles warmly, stealing a glance at Nat's painting on the wall before nodding in agreement. You check your watch.

"Maybe Wanda is right, though. What do you want for dinner? Real food. I can prepare something-"

America grimaces. "I want pizza!"

"But kiddo-"

"With plenty of pepperonis!"

You roll your eyes, unable to say no to that lovely girl.

–//–

The next day, when Billy and Tommy take out lunch boxes from their backpacks, you want to chuckle. It's so... you don't even know what to call that.

"What is that supposed to be?" America asks in a mixture of indignation and disgust, standing behind the boys sitting at the table. Tommy and Billy exchange sighs.

"It's called Zucchini Boats." Says William, poking at the snack with his fork - which Wanda also sent in her purse - "Mom is a vegetarian and so are we."

"That's what she thinks," Tommy mutters mischievously, receiving an elbow from his brother. "It's good, America. Want some?"

"No, I'm fine." Your daughter says quickly, exchanging a look with you before leaving the twins to grab some of the juice you are bringing them on a tray. 

"Wow, that looks ... grown up." You comment with an impressed laugh as soon as you see the food the twins are pinching half-heartedly. "Do you guys always eat so fancy?"

"Yeah, all the time." Tommy replies grumpily. "Mom pays for vegetarian snacks at school, and it's always this kind of expensive food at the work parties she brings us to."

"Tommy, I don't think you should talk like that..." Billy whispers uncertainly but is cut off by the other.

"I can't stand eating asparagus or cabbage anymore! And I hate Lentils!" Challenges the twin, pushing the lunchbox onto the table.

America sips her juice in silence, and you sigh.

"Well, here's what we'll do then, little Maximoff." You say, picking up the bowl and some of the food that has fallen on the table. "I'll order hamburger and fries, and leave it on the counter. And you guys choose what you want to eat if you feel hungry."

Tommy loved the idea. Billy thanked him, but said he would stick with what his mother prepared. In any case, you ordered enough for everyone.

When the food arrived, you, America, and Tommy ate first. The Maximoff was very excited about eating meat - He eventually told you between bites that vegetarianism, as well as a dozen other habits, came to his family after his father passed away, and you were so surprised by the information that you could hardly nod in agreement. So Wanda was a widow like you? What a heartbreaking coincidence.

After you finished eating, you needed to continue working, and you left the children to do it. When you came back for some keys about ten minutes later, Tommy and America were playing video games in the living room and little Billy was eating French fries on the counter and having the time of his life. You didn't dare bother him.

The whole plot of Wanda and her vegetarian lunch boxes for 12-year-olds that were half going to waste - you insisted that they at least take a few bites out of respect for their mother's work - went on for three whole weeks.

It was on the penultimate day of detention when Wanda was already smiling as she came to pick up the kids, that she found out and showed up at your door during school hours.

"Sorry for the wait, I'm teaching a class." You tell her clumsily as you welcome her into the small makeshift office, while your students take a break in the studio in the other room. 

Wanda hasn't even taken off her coat and is still holding her keys in her hands. "Don't worry, I'll be quick." She says. "I appreciate the favor of picking up the boys and letting them stay here, but it has come to my attention your inappropriate behavior, and I-"

"Wow, what are you talking about?" You interrupt in confusion. 

Wanda doesn't hesitate, adjusting her posture. "The food I prepare for my children is properly planned with a nutritionist, and William has told me about your interference in their diet." You stare at her without reaction, and she takes advantage of your shock to continue speaking. "I respect that you are raising your daughter without any attention to a healthy diet, but I cannot allow you to do the same-"

"No, wait a second there." You cut her off with a short laugh, gesturing a little and without realizing it, moving closer, which makes Wanda take a step backward in that small office. "I never told them to stop eating your fancy food."

She grimaces. "But you bought junk food!" She rations angrily. "What do you expect children to choose?"

You chuckle. "Exactly, Wanda! They are children! You're the one who's feeding them like they're 60-year-old culinary critics!"

"A healthy diet is essential for their development-"

"Billy has never eaten pizza before! Do you understand how insane that sounds?"

Wanda feels her blood boil, much like you. And she doesn't realize she's screaming, much the same as you. 

"Oh, what a crime not to want to give my two children a fat bomb! Arrest me for preventing cardiovascular disease when they are adults!

"What the hell are you talking about?" You retort with an indignant chuckle, but Wanda steps forward, her gaze deadly.

"I don't tell you how to raise your daughter, so don't you dare do it to me." She says seriously, and you swallow dryly. 

"I never said anything like that." You retort. "It's not a crime to offer actual good food to a child."

Wanda frowns. "My food is good!" She defends herself almost offended, but you sigh wearily.

"For the adult palate? Yes, it is. I've tasted it, you have talent I admit." You say, surprising her a little by the compliment. Her posture almost breaks. "But for the boys? I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but they don't like it, okay? Especially Thomas. I didn't want you to find out like this, but he hasn't followed your all-important eating schedule in months, Miss Maximoff. He keeps buying candy and junk food around-"

"What?" she exclaims indignantly, turning away to walk around the room. You sigh. "Where does he get the money for that?"

You shrug casually. "I don't know, isn't he kind of pretty popular? Maybe he sells some toys or homework. I used to do that when I was young. And well, I give America an allowance and they hang out together a lot and-

"So you're the problem! Again!" Wanda suddenly accuses you, leaving you in shock. "You and your daughter, stay away from my boys!"

"Wanda, what...?"

But she turned her back on you and slammed the door hard on her way out. You huffed loudly, pressing your face between your hands for a long moment. Complete confusion in your mind. 

–//–

You're not sure what you expected for the last day of detention, but it sure wasn't the call from the secretary about America skipping class. 

You called her immediately, and to add to your despair, she didn't answer until an hour later, when you had already taken the car and were driving around town after her.

The arcade parking lot was empty because all the kids were in school. Except for a few.

You got down from the truck, and this time, you knew the blood was Billy's.

"Have you gone crazy? I drove all over town after you, America! Where-"

But she ran up to you, hugging you tightly, and you fell silent, worried. "I'm sorry, Mom!"

After massaging her back gently, you turned away to the boys sitting on the sidewalk. Bending down to Billy's height, you grabbed from the other twin the ice pack he held over his brother's bruised forehead.

"What happened, guys?" You asked, and all three of them started talking together. With a sigh, you shushed them. "Just one at a time, please."

America stepped forward. "We weren't going to skip the whole day, Mom, I promise! It's just that Tommy forgot to do his chemistry homework, so we were going to skip it so he wouldn't get in trouble!"

Tommy nods immediately. "We came here because we weren't going to hang around the school at the risk of getting caught." Continues the boy. "We were going to play and come back as soon as the next class time started."

Billy complains softly about the pain and you try to press more gently. "So?" You ask them to continue, but they don't, exchanging hesitant glances. 

It is William who continues the story, his gaze in his lap. "It was the idiot brother of a classmate of ours. He was at the arcade, and he recognized me. He said he was furious that I got his brother in trouble. And he said... He said there's no place in this town for a faggy like me."

You sigh immediately, putting down the ice to hold his shoulder with your other hand. "Oh, Billy, I'm sorry."

He sniffles lightly, shrugging. "It's okay, I'm used to it. America and Tommy were buying soda, so the jerk threw me out here. As soon as they came, the guy ran off."

"It was the arcade owner who gave us the ice." America clarifies, coming over to sit down on the sidewalk across from Billy, and slipping an arm over his. "Sorry for taking so long, buddy. Next time I'm going to break his leg-"

"Hey, listen up here you three." You interrupt, looking at them seriously. "Violence is never the solution."

"But, Mom, they-"

"I know." You cut her off with a nod. "And it's unfair that it happened. And all we want to do is return that anger, but we can't be like that. Billy, I'm really sorry that you've heard cruel things. There's a place for you wherever you choose, that boy is just being an ignorant fool. Don't listen to him." You assure holding the hand of the boy in front of you. "You three are going back to school, and I'll take care of it the right way, okay?"

At first, they don't seem very willing, but eventually, they agree. You direct them back to school, and are not surprised at the increased detention Fury gives them for skipping class. Nick, however, is the one who provides the numbers of the parents of the kids who attacked them, and of a lawyer. 

He comments something about having called Miss Maximoff but to no avail before thanking you for bringing the children back safely and saying goodbye.

You are walking back to your car when Wanda parks as if in a race movie.

"I'm glad you're here, Wanda, we need to talk." You announce loudly, walking to her car. She turns it off, takes out the key, and gets down, slamming the door. 

"I don't have time, the director called me during a meeting, and I-"

"I know." You cut her off, and make no mention of moving out of her way, trapping her between cars. "Our kids were skipping class."

She chuckles dryly. "That's what I'm talking about, your daughter is a terrible influence. I wasn't wrong when-"

"She was helping Tommy." You cut in again, crossing your arms. "Yeah. He didn't do his chemistry homework or something, and they decided to skip the first period so he wouldn't get a scolding. Because, yes, he'd rather take his chances on the street than smear the perfect record mommy wants for him."

Wanda tilts her head. "Watch your mouth." She warns between teeth, and you roll your eyes.

"Billy got punched." You declare, and Wanda's posture breaks completely. Desperation fills her expression.

"W-what... Excuse me, I have-" 

"It's taken care of, it was just a scratch I looked at it myself." You interrupt, steadying your feet in her path, and ignoring the way she looks you up and down. "But these assaults, Wanda, we need to get a handle on this."

She is surprised, in a good way. And she swallows dryly, trying to adjust her posture. "That's not your problem."

You don't care, pulling out of your pocket the lawyer's paper Fury gave you to hand to her 

as you quickly explain the whole story. Wanda is unresponsive until she sniffles slightly, and this breaks your posture.

Your natural instinct is to touch her, but you hold back, clenching your hands, and Wanda turns her face away, hugging her own body as she controls her crying.

"Forgive me, I just..." She takes a deep breath. "They're all I have. And they're perfect, just the way they are. I just wanted to...do the best for them. Keep them safe, and happy. But apparently, New York is even worse than Westview."

"Hey, I understand that." You can't resist, raising a hand to her back, and thanking the gods that Wanda leans into the touch instead of backing away. "Some things are beyond our control. But I think you're doing a damn fine job, Wanda."

She raises her eyes at you. "Really?"

"Yeah." You assure her with a smile. "Your kids are great. Smart, so independent, and good-natured. Very united and loyal. You've done a really good job with them-"

Wanda hugs you tightly around the neck, cutting off your sentence. You smile, putting your arms around her just as the surprise fades. She sighs. "Thank you." She whispers, and you squeeze tighter before letting go.

"Call Jen Walters about this. Nick said she's a good lawyer." You remind her, and Wanda nods. You put your hands in your pockets and stare at her for a moment. "Were you at some fancy event? You look good."

She blushes, smiling shyly and adjusting her suit. "Something like that. Just a new book launch, so phone off. As soon as I saw the missed calls, I ran here..."

You chuckle lightly. "Yeah, I noticed the Fast and Furious you pulled out." You joke getting a laugh and a slap on the arm.

As the laughter dies down, you face each other. And Wanda is the first to swallow dryly and shift her gaze away.

"I should go there... just to make sure everything is okay." She says pointing to the school. You clear your throat and finally give her space to walk through.

"Sure, sure. I see you...?"

Wanda looks at you over her shoulder, a soft smile on her lips. "Over coffee." She invites, her smile widening with your surprise. "It's about time, don't you think?"

You nod, swallowing your anxiety. "I can’t wait." You guarantee, and when she leaves, your cheeks are flushed like hers.

–//–

Wanda doesn't call. But she doesn't have to.

The detentions are over; you're pretty sure she threatened Nick Fury on her way back to the office, but whatever she said, she made sure that the victims of the story stopped being punished. Tommy received a short warning for his duty, but the matter was soon forgotten.

You were surprised that even with the end of the detention, the Maximoff twins were on your doorstep on Tuesday. And next to them, Wanda.

"If you're not busy, I was thinking we could all have lunch together. I got some free time at the office." Clarified the matriarch, and well, you had a dozen or so orders to make and they would all have to wait because no chance at all of you dismissing going out with Wanda.

She is infinitely more pleasant company than the impression you got during your fights. She is a fierce mother, but she is so much more than that. She's brilliant, passionate, and generous. You find yourself captured by her like a work of art, which you can stare at for hours and hours, trying to absorb every detail and discover others.

Lunch turns into afternoon snacks, and into dinners. The Maximoffs show up at your house on a weekly basis, Wanda cooks for you sometimes, and at other times allows herself to eat junk food with everyone else.

And family dates become the two of you dates when she kisses you.

It takes you completely by surprise, honestly. 

You have been dancing into a family routine for amazing weeks, and after one of the dinners, it gets late enough to insist that they sleep over at your place. 

The boys stay in America's room, and you take over the living room so that Wanda is comfortable in her room.

When she shows up at dawn in the kitchen while you're making tea, the first thing she says is "I feel terrible about making you sleep on the couch. I can't sleep because of it."

You smile and separate a mug of tea for her too.

"I think we finally had that drink." You comment a long moment later, as you pour the tea for yourselves.

Wanda smiles mischievously. "I don't think it counts." She murmurs mysteriously, and you raise an eyebrow.

"No?"

Wanda hums in the negative. "We've drunk together a dozen times now, Y/N." She retorts, holding the cup close to her mouth. "If you want to take me out, you need to genuinely ask."

She sips her tea, and you swallow dryly as you stare into her lips. Blinking away when you notice her naughty smile, you ignore your nervousness, and retort, "I asked, you're the one who didn't call me." 

Wanda raises her eyebrow, taken aback that you brought back this information from so many weeks later. She doesn't lose her composure, however. "I thought it wouldn't be appropriate when given a second thought about it."

You sip some tea. "And what do you think of us now?"

Instead of answering, she leans over the countertop. She grabs the collar of your shirt and kisses you hard. Your whole body vibrates, and you gasp. But she lets you go before you have the chance to respond properly.

"I think if you don't ask me out soon, I'll have to do it myself." She teases affectedly, breathing out of breath as you do. You laugh, nodding.

"Go out with me." 

She raises an eyebrow. "Is that an order?" She teases, and you grunt.

"God, Wanda, come here." That's what you say before pulling her back to you, mouth to mouth.

[ay0nha]

Lament of My Heart | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: “Tommy…”  Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Set pre-episode four & post-episode five w/ moments of pre-outbreak

PAIRING: Joel Miller x femme!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

WARNINGS: SMUT (hand job), mentions of blood, mutual pining/slow burnish, skinny dipping (of sorts), canon-typical things, mentions of Tommy x reader, etc.

A/N: Need to post this before it sits in the drafts to collect dust. Joel is just on my mind all the time, so this is the product of that. Thank you as always @from-the-clouds​ for listening to my blabbering and entertaining all my ideas! Much love.

“No more questions, Ellie,” You reprimanded her lightly, trying to cover the warmth she was discovering you felt. “Get some rest.”

Ellie was a hard-headed person with the responsibility of society on her shoulders. She carried the weight well, but she was still human, still young. But her questions revealed her growing creativity and sharp wit.

“Not tired.” She hated Joel’s coffee, but the stolen sips still coursed through her veins. You knew it was partly due to the anxiety ahead of them. They all felt it, that tense air of the unknown. “You two don’t seem to get along, though.”

Your eyes flashed to the rear view mirror on instinct. Settled on the truck’s dirty cushions and the supplies being used as a pillow, Joel was asleep. But you weren’t sure how long it would last.

“Ellie-

“It wasn’t a question!” She defended quickly, toying with the edge of her sleeve. She’d been dying to know just exactly why you got under Joel’s skin the way you did. “Tell me about Tommy, at least.”

“Ask Joel.” Your eyes were everywhere. You checked the mirror as if there was traffic, but it was the only thing that kept you occupied. She was making you squirm.

“C’mon, you know he won’t-” Ellie’s own frustrations were building up. In her shoes, you’d be just as curious. “Please.”

Through a thoughtful sigh, you resigned, “Before-We just- We’ve known each other for a long time.” You’d been intertwined with the Miller brothers since before everything. You rarely said it aloud, and now, you struggled to put all the history into something coherent. “I met Tommy when he returned from deployment-

“In Texas?” Ellie hung onto every word, mind spinning tales faster than you could keep up with. “Were you in the military too?”

“I said no questions.”

The comment made her smile. Ellie always appreciated a good game. Loopholes were her specialty.

“Fine, then.” She settled in the passenger seat, knees to her chest as she faced you, “You were discharged with Tommy with more medals than you could count!” Her posture then changed with inventive excitement, “Or maybe a bad-ass sniper with too many confirmed kills to count.” You wished your life was as exciting as she made it sound. “You’re going to have to stop me before I start thinking you led an elite hit squad.”

“Close.” You quipped, “I worked on the military base in town.” It was the first job that hired you and offered some stability for someone your age. “I’d help get soldiers back on their feet once they returned…”

“Then you became friends with Tommy,” Ellie encouraged you to continue. She couldn’t stand the lulls.

Too many years passed for you to remember clearly how you became close to Tommy, but at the time, he considered you his soulmate. Not that either of you really knew what that meant.

“Then I became friends with Tommy.” You nodded. You kept your eyes steady ahead, adding, “Joel, too.” Glancing at Ellie, you finished,  “Then we all just…stuck together.”

Separation wasn’t ever questioned, even on the eve of all the destruction. That memory was vivid; the way your bloodied body held onto Joel, dragging him away from it all, Tommy trailing behind, surveilling every move. It was how you moved together for years, protecting each other as much as possible.  

“He doesn’t talk about it; before,” Ellie commented lowly. You knew she wished for more from Joel. But she couldn’t see what you saw in the way he softened for her.

“That hasn’t changed with time.” Your words felt too bitter. This time you indulged in a glance at Joel. Still settled. “I’m surprised he’s even talking to me now.”

You always described the Miller brothers as a whirlwind. They may not have necessarily meant it, but they had a knack for sweeping you up and consuming you. When Joel came to you with Ellie, there was no question of whether you would help or not, just when and where you were needed.

He’d never leave without you.

“Tell me something about them...” Ellie pleaded. She was a clever girl who picked up on the weight of his misery. But it wasn’t yours to share. “Before they…before this.”

Your shoulders relaxed while your hands moved to the bottom of the steering wheel as you allowed yourself to filter through only the fond memories.

“Alright, well…” You hesitated with your words. Only because you knew, Joel would tell the story differently. “He and Tommy were wasted…I mean…Absolutely hammered that night.”

Your words had their desired effect, and Ellie’s giggles encouraged you to continue. But it felt strange to make Joel’s drinking habits sound so lighthearted when you know how the habit haunted him now.

“Tommy called me.” The phone in Joel’s kitchen woke you up that night well past the witching hour. “The brothers always got into all kinds of mischief, usually Tommy's fault.” You were typically by his side, provoking him. “Always Tommy’s fault.”

“He sounds fun.” Ellie joined in. You knew in another world, the two would get up to all kinds of mischief if they had the chance.

“He can be, when he wants.” You glanced at the map on your lap. With the sun getting low, it meant you needed to find a safe place to stop soon. “That night, though, the two of them had the bright idea to pretend to be bouncers, only to get into a fight with the actual ones.”

“I knew Joel wasn’t a total hard-ass.”

As you continued to retell the story, you hadn’t realized how much nostalgia you carried with you. Nor were you able to see how you talked so warmly of Joel. Ellie knew exactly what to say to get the information she wanted. But you waited a long time to reminisce freely.

“...When I finally got them home,” You blew a raspberry at the unforgettable effort it took. The stench of alcohol and smoke still made your nose scrunch. “Thank god Tommy had enough sense left to make it to the couch.”

Ellie loved how you teased Joel’s hiccuping that he blamed it on being over-served tequila. It was hard even to imagine he had any of that humor left in him. You embellished the story just enough to entertain yourself. But the story's core provided fertile ground for understanding that nothing you added was too far-fetched.

“They remembered nothing the next morning,” You said. “Tommy found all these numbers written on his arm, said he’d close his eyes and pick which to call.”

“....And Joel, he must have been so hungover…”

“You’d think…” You reflected flatly.  “He just got up and went to work.”

From your side, you knew Ellie could sense you holding back.  She’d gotten more than she asked for, so she left it. She could see how the echo of that night still felt fresh, doubting you provided her with the detailed ending you lived.

----

“You alright?” The question was slowly processed by Joel, who was trying to steady his breathing before the contents of his stomach came up.

“Yeah, yeah…” Joel held onto you every step, arm slung over your shoulders, making you sway with him with each step to his room.

He was mumbling while you settled him on the edge of his bed. You got every few words while focusing on preparing him for the next day. The brothers had work, and doing this would save you the headache of hearing their complaints.

“B-been thinkin’...” His Texan drawl was heightened as he slurred.

“That so?” You half-heartedly replied, rummaging through his medicine cabinet. You looked for something for the morning.

“Mhmm…”

You could hear him shuffling around in his room. Assuming he’d been pulling his boots off and discarding his jacket, you were surprised to find him leaning on the bathroom’s door frame.

“Then you’ve been hanging around Tommy too much.”

“Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

You still held love for Tommy, but you had mistaken it for something that it wasn’t. The two of you functioned better as friends; you were his confidant and partner in crime. Neither of you would change that for the world.

“And you do?”

Your relationship with Joel had a natural ebb and flow that could be but never got to the point of being volatile. But that didn't stop you from stepping on each other's toes, constantly being on the brink of an argument that neither of you knew the point of.

“Darlin’...” You melted his resolve, helping him the way you were. Joel’s eyes flickered down. Nothing about your outfit was seductive, but the way his eyes loitered told you maybe it had been. Covering his tracks seamlessly, Joel continued, “...The things you deserve.”

Your laugh bounced off the bathroom walls, resonating deep within Joel’s chest.

"What?" Joel asked lightly, his smile starting to mirror yours, but not understanding why, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

“Shit, Joel,” Your laughter lingered, “You must be really drunk.”

“C’mon now.” He tried to stop you. He wasn’t sure he could handle any level of ridicule from you.  

But you pushed passed him, drawing his sheets back for the night to be over, “Let’s just get you to bed.”

He stumbled to you willingly, but you could see his mind turning. There was something he wanted off his chest, but you knew you weren’t ready to hear it.

“Come on now, Miller,” You tried again. “We’ve both got work in the morning.”

“What is it you do again?” Joel’s words played with chords of tension. “Besides eat all my food and sleep on my couch.”

"Get by." You joked more for your sake than his.

Joel’s eyes shifted between your own, pupils entirely dilated.  Blaming it on the alcohol helped settle your stomach.

“I know y-you don’t stick around for my benefit.”

"God forbid we enjoy each other's company, Joel." Your eyes burned into his. You enjoyed your ability to make him bashful in his stupor. Just a look, and he was crumbling.

You saw it coming. You could have stopped it, but it wasn’t even the length of a decent kiss. It was soft and fleeting because you pulled back to never speak of it again. You doubted Joel remembered, but you could never be sure what he’d admit to.

----

“Did you ever-

“Ellie…” You said her name slowly in warning.

She retracted fast, “Joel and you-

“No.”

Your answer came off harshly. You knew where she wanted to go; she’d circled the topic for hours.

“Can I ask one question?”

“That was a question.” You looked at her again pointedly, “Shoot.”

“Why’d you stay in Boston?”

Sitting with the statement, you focused on the road. Most around you was barren and destroyed but offered an unconventional peacefulness. Sometimes you imagined if you’d be better off in isolation than in a QZ. But you could never bring yourself to just disappear like that.

“As hard as you might try,” You started, pulling the car to the side, “You can’t be alone in this world. With a purpose or not, it just doesn’t work.”

The sudden sway of the car disturbed the sleeping figure in the back. Joel attempted to hide his jolt as he sat up but was already looking out the window for trouble.

“We stoppin’?” Joel’s voice filled the car while the engine cooled.

Joel looked to you for reassurance. Ellie pointed that out to you, the way he valued you despite his resentment.

“We’ve gotten far enough today.” You tossed the keys back to him. “We need food and rest.”

“Alright.”

Your exchanges were clipped.

Yet, you valued the journey with Ellie. Selfishly, the task provided a reason to see Joel again. It had become easier to spend time apart. It became a habit. But even with a quiet meal shared and conversations led by Ellie, it felt good to be with him again.

The pressure shifted. No longer were ration cards on your mind, nor were the curfews you struggled to follow. Something about the night felt freeing despite the heavy responsibility that it meant. Maybe it was the privilege of feeling safe with Joel since he created a protective bubble, sacrificing his rest for yours.

You heard Joel get up when he thought yours and Ellie’s breathing steadied. You were going to leave it, but sleep was hard to come by with your mind racing.

Joel saw your shadow first. But the hand that brushed between his shoulder blades still made him flinch. He spoke in hushed tones, looking to ensure that Ellie was still asleep, “I hope you didn’t come over here to tell me we’re safe.”

“Didn’t say that.”  You frowned. He knew you well; you wore your concerns on your face. You just wished he didn’t hold such defiance for them.  “But we’ll be alright for the night-

“Don’t.”

Joel wanted to be in control of everything down to the smallest detail.

You knew it was a way of coping, his way, but it never sat right with you. Especially now, as you watched Joel scrutinize the area you chose, you could feel the criticism he was holding back from the moment you parked the car.

Did you even survey the terrain?

Too much open space. No clear route out.

You know better than this.  

“We’re the perfect targets.”

“Joel-

“We know how this works,” He voiced over you. Even with you there, his surveillance didn’t change as he remained on a swivel.  “It was exactly what we did.”

Joel’s emotions were catching up, but he still held onto a forced restraint. He was expecting resistance, an argument from you. But you heard what he said, how Ellie needed to hear it, to believe him.

No one’s gonna find us.

It was a promise. Something Joel was determined to control.

The wind was picking up the later the night became, and any rustle was faced with a gun barrel.  It caused chills to litter your arms out of apprehension. You tried to comfort yourself with your arms tucked to your chest, but it only shifted Joel’s attention.

If you tried hard enough, you could guess what he would say to you. We need to stay sharp. You could feel Joel’s hesitation, though. It happened every time he pushed you away.

There was merit to your diversion, but Joel only allowed it for so long.

“Get some rest.” He nodded toward his forgotten sleeping bag, “No good if both of us are tired.”

----

The car was gone. The brief companions too. Your heart felt permanently caught in your throat. Adrenaline replaced everything. But it was wearing you thin.

“Where are you going?” Respite clung to Joel’s question as his eyes followed your figure up from his crouched position.

Like a cat, you stretched until something deep within your spine popped. You moved towards the shore of the small body of water you all settled by.

Time was at the forefront of Joel’s mind. Time was no longer on your side, meaning the sooner, the better pressured every minute. Daylight became the most valuable thing. And by the looks of it, you were on your way to wasting it.

“We smell, Joel.” You state as you discard the knife strapped around your waist. You were meant to be cleaning them in the water, preparing them for the next fight the way he had.

But your body was sore. You could imagine the pain Joel felt was much worse, physical or not. He put his body first rather than having you or Ellie be the brunt of it all.

Mornings were sacred to you. It was when the birds sang at dawn because the crisp, moist air carried their songs and their meanings farther through the same air that filled your lungs in fluid refreshment.

 You pulled your shirt over your head and looped your thumbs in the waistband of your pants as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs.

For the moment, Joel’s eyes lingered. He looked for bites. He knew he wouldn’t find anything, but he had to be sure. Instead, Joel found deep hues of bruises still healing from Kansas City.

Almost wholly above the horizon, the sun highlighted the mist rising off the body of water. It veiled your body the closer you were to where the water and the rocks met. Yet, Joel watched on until your arms maneuvered behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra.

As if the sun was directly in his eyes, Joel looked up, avoiding seeing something that wasn’t meant for him. Except, it didn’t stop him from passing along a warning, “Don’t go out far.”

The dirt from the past days felt like a second layer of skin had embedded into your own, suffocating you. You finally waded into the freezing water to rid yourself of it.

But not before throwing a comment over your shoulder, “Join me, then.”

Your words were like an idle threat that was only met with silence. You knew he was contemplating the offer. Always thinking.

The water was cold, goosebumps littering your skin within minutes and creating peaks where Joel refused to look. He scolded himself for the way his cock twitched at just the idea.

You leaned back so you were nearly floating on your back. Above, a bird glided hypnotically in a wide circle.  It seemed you weren’t the only one seeking to rid yourself of a sense of weariness. The cool water swallowed you whole, caressing your skin and relaxing your muscles.

“Someone’s gotta stay with Ellie.” Joel voiced his decision. It was an excuse, what he was supposed to say.

There was no point in fighting it. Instead, you submerged yourself completely; the water consumed you. The longer you stayed under, the closer Joel edged to the water, ensuring you’d come up for a breath.

When you finally reemerged, you held a wicked grin.

“Don’t do that.” Joel frowned at your teasing. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding your eye. The rocks seemed more fascinating than how you became more siren-like by the minute.  “I’m gonna find Ellie.”

“She deserves some privacy.” Despite her continuous puns, you were receptive to the fact that she was still impacted.

You all were.

Hyper vigilance became the enemy that threatened to consume Joel whole. Sleep was no longer negotiable. Every movement dragged worry, invited agitation, and controlled his violence. Joel’s chest was tight, and breathing felt hard to come by. He was moments away from unraveling.

“...There won’t be another invitation, Joel.”

Joel’s loaded gaze burned right through you as he took off his clothes. While he was busy shrugging out of his shirt, you took the opportunity to tread out further. Your back was to him, but you heard the swishing of disturbed water.

You reveled in the way your skin burned for him. He’d seen you naked years ago. But not like this, never like this.

----

Joel’s eyes followed the curve of your body. Your chest swayed as you moved around freely. His pounding heart clocked how too much time had passed for him to sneak out. He was frozen.

“You’re not Tommy.” You let out a breath of relief despite your surprise.

The lace rode high on your hips, accentuating your natural curve. Your chest was perked at the sudden attention of being caught so bare.   Regardless of the incessant ringing in your ears, you stayed stone still, giving him a chance to say something.

Yet, he shook his head, backing out the door he’d come through, mumbling expected apologies.  Joel used the key under the fern and let himself in.

For days he’d been asking Tommy for his tools back. And now, they were forgotten with each hurried step.

You threw on the closest shirt, chasing after him. “Wait!”

“I didn’t mean to-

“Joel, let me explain-

“No, I shouldn’t have-I-I’ll just-”

You found a way to stand before him, blocking his escape route perfectly. “Let’s just slow down…” Your hands were up in defense, mirroring his own. “It’s not what you think.”

Of all people, you wanted Joel to hear you. But the silence was heavy and lacked a proper explanation. You could see the flush that took over his coloring. It was sweet in a way, but you were too mortified to know what to make of it. It wasn’t exactly taught how to handle these sorts of things in school, so you stalled.

“Can I make you some coffee?” An invitation to linger.

Joel looked at you and saw your bare feet moving toward him with hope. He hadn’t meant to, but his eyes scanned your bare legs; the picture of the intricate fabric underneath the oversized shirt made his skin prick. It took him a moment to realize the shirt was his, one Tommy most likely nicked under his nose.

Doubting you knew what that did to him, Joel shook his head, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“One cup.” You promised.

The air was tense when you made it to the kitchen. You insisted on a fresh pot, but the drops felt like they took ages to fill it enough for its purpose. The hem of the shirt skirted the boundary of indecency, but you thought nothing of it. Your focus was on the longing stare Joel was giving you.

“Tommy and I…” You started with a shaky breath. You were sure Joel knew all about the drifting relationship. “I thought maybe this would…” It felt strange explaining yourself the way you had. But you wanted it to be known that even to you, it felt out of character. “He doesn’t look at me the same anymore…”

Your words feigned a sense of yearning. But neither you nor Tommy could keep up the act. Your words seemed heavy, but it was so alleviating to say aloud. To be listened to.

But the smell of coffee pulled you back, reminding you to be a good host. Filling the mugs just below the brim, you broke the small barrier of the kitchen island. You held the mug close to your chest, the warmth working as emotional support while Joel toyed with the ceramic handle.

You lifted the mug to your lips, blowing lightly over the piping-hot coffee, “...But neither do I.”

“I can talk to Tommy if you…” No matter how much it made Joel regret the offer, Joel said the right thing. He couldn’t meddle where he didn’t belong. “I’m sure he’d understand.”

You laughed into your mug. “I’d rather this stay our thing.”

“You say that like this is going to happen again.”

“Joel Miller.” You said his name after a pause. He looked like a child in trouble. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, no, I-

“Joking.” You cut in just as awkwardly as he flushed.

You wanted the mood to lighten, needed it to.

But there was clumsiness in every movement, between your ongoing jitteriness and Joel’s restless fidgeting.  So, you moved to the window. On the sill held your half-empty carton of cigarettes, the ones you were trying hard not to touch these days.

With a soft glance back to Joel, you asked, “Mind if I?”

Joel could spot the influences of Tommy in you. Or maybe you had passed along your habits. Either way, it was your home of sorts. Who was he to tell you no?

You had such dexterity with the process. It was like a ritual how you rolled the cigarette over your lips before lighting it. Then after a deep exhale, you utilized the perpetually open window to tap the beginnings of ash.  

“I don’t mean to drag you into all of this…”  You trailed off through an exhale of smoke through your nose. Joel could see the appeal now. “I just don’t-…Tommy’s my friend, and if I…I don’t know what’ll happen if we’re not…”

The end of something always hurt everyone around you. You all were just playing your roles in delaying the inescapable. But the questions of the future haunted you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to let it all go.

“I’ll let you leave…” You toyed with the lit cigarette that was on its last limb as you spoke. Joel’s silence was becoming deafening. “Promise I won’t hold you up any longer.”

You were sure he had more pressing matters than to comfort you through an inevitable breakup.

“Tommy’ll get over it.” Joel sat back with more relaxation now that he spoke his mind. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

----

Joel kept his distance deliberately. He made the venture into the water seem like another task. In and out.

“I don’t bite, you know.”

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for too long. He knew what it meant to join you, but he made an effort to seem detached.

“Just giving you some privacy.” Joel echoed your words.

“Right.”  Your frustration was clear. You carried it with you for the handful of days that passed. Your frustrations didn’t lie with him like Joel chose to believe.

Instead, guilt filled Joel’s chest. It had been gnawing at him since he left Boston. He should have left you there if he were as reliable as everyone claimed he was. You’d be without bruises. You’d be without his burden. Leaving without you meant there would be no return.

But you knew Joel. You had to remind yourself.  You knew what he was thinking, what he wanted. That’s how you knew moving towards him would benefit the both of you.

You moved gradually, leading the interaction by brushing his hair behind his ears. The greys of his hair darkened with the water you carried on your fingertips.  He looked younger. He looked like your Joel.

You reached for him, pulling him through the cool water to you. Joel was stiff when your chest met his warmly. He thought of pulling away, but you felt so peaceful that it swallowed him. Your arms wrapped around him with comfort. Your body settled in front of his, gently pressing your hips against him, giving him only an ounce of pressure to entice him.

He noted every twitch. Shyness wasn’t questioned; that barrier was broken years ago. It enabled you to trace his face. Every detail was already committed to memory.

You imagined what he’d say to you all those years ago—anything to make a smile crack.

Careful, now.

All you’re gonna find is a whole lot of ugly.

The scar above his eyebrow marked when your feelings for Joel first latched on. You were blinded by anger then, but the blood scared you. He promised you it was a graze and that he still had his life. But that wasn’t enough proof for you.

When your thumb traced over the faint line, Joel finally found his voice again, “Your shooting’s still sloppy.”

The look Joel held was intimidating, scrutinizing, but you knew he was trying to be witty.  

“See now, when you say things like that…” You whispered softly due to the proximity, “I don’t regret shooting you.”

He hummed, appreciating your touch that ventured to his shoulders. You could feel under your hands the tension he held. You wanted nothing more than to provide relief.

“Joel.”

Just his name made your desire clear. He wanted to touch you all those years ago, but he’d never betray his brother like that. But now you invited him to you without any barriers. There was hesitancy in the hold Joel found on your hips. His mind wandered; wavered between the need and the want.

Starting at the swirl of hair on his chest, you followed the trail down until Joel’s breath hitched. Joel felt like he was about to lose it when your hand wrapped around him.

“This feel okay?” You moved your hand against him, slow and soft.

Water dripped from his nose to your shoulder as he nodded eagerly.  His groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your own. You tread in dangerous territory but recognized the privilege of his trust.

This was for Joel. You needed this just as much as he did. You didn’t worry if it functioned as a thank you for keeping you alive, an apology for the trouble you’d caused him, or a confession of your own.

It didn’t matter when you indulged in your own lust.

“Do you think of me when you’re on your own?” You asked, fingers wrapped around his shaft, squeezing him until you felt his pulse in your grip.

“Oh- Fuck-” He cut himself off before he let a pet name slip. Joel’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, imprinting his touch into your skin, burned to your very bone.

“Hmm?” You edged him further. Gently, you continued to pump him and move your thumb over his tip.

Joel’s ragged breath fell on your pulse point with each moan as you continued to pump him rhythmically. His hand came up to your throat in a tender hold. His lips hover over yours but refrained from connecting.

It would be too intimate if you had.

“Do you want me to?” The hold gave him dominance even as he shuddered under your touch. Always desiring control.

The water around you rippled with your continued movements. With his free hand, his thumb rubbed gently at the sensitive skin that was near the pebbles of your breast, but he made no effort to touch it just yet.  His words and touch were a deadly combination, the kind that made you ache.

“Would that be so bad?” You spoke on his lips, feeling the tickle of his mustache. The more you worked on his release the more you felt his warm pants turn into deep moans. “Come on now, Miller,” You coaxed softly, moving up and down his length with a lively pattern, teasingly and tauntingly. “Tell me.”

Joel’s words were caught in his throat as ecstasy flowed through his veins as the pleasure crashed. His hips jerked against you as his breathing became ragged and his moans became filthy.

He sighed with relief, abandoning himself. He groaned into you, nuzzling his nose in your neck as the aftershocks made him tremble. He could feel your hand threading in his hair, keeping him in your tight embrace.

“Yes.”

[softspiderling]

catch me or i go (houdini) | r.c.

summary: rafe witnesses a skilled burglar in the middle of the burglary. also, he can’t quiet seem to stop putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to you

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 6,6k words oops

warnings: mention of peterkin and what rafe did to her, cursing

author's note: i was listening to houdini by dua lipa and somehow got inspired to write this. also kind of lost myself in this fic bc i enjoyed writing it so much. pls leave a comment/like if you liked it and reblog to share. ily!!!

“Are you sure you want to sell it off? We can put it in storage for you.”

Rafe waved the guy off, pushing a fifty in his hand. “It’s fine, just sell it for me, I don’t want to see it again, it’s gaudy as fuck.”

The guy, Jacob or whatever, scratched his head, but seemed pleased enough with the tip that he got into the car with the rest of his team, the trucks pulling off the property.

“Fucking finally,” Rafe sighed, running his hands over his buzzed hair. The renovation of the house was his first step of distancing himself from Ward and he started by getting rid of the ridiculous furniture Rose had chosen. While Rafe knew that it was going to be a pain redecorating, he’d live in the comfort of his own space, instead of being reminded of his psychotic stepmother whenever he sat in the living room. Rafe was about to go back inside when he heard a loud crash coming from Mr. Jenkins’ property. He hesitated for a split second. Rafe never really liked Mr. Jenkins, he was a nosy motherfucker and always liked to call the sheriff’s department when the parties got a little louder than usual. But if that old fuck died right now only to be found like a few weeks later? That stench would probably sit in his nose for months. So might as well be proactive now.

Ducking between the bushes - he really needed to call the guy who trimmed their greens - Rafe jogged over to Mr. Jenkins’ property, slowing his pace when he reached the property line.

“Mr. Jenkins?” he called, trying to sneak a glance into the house, without being spotted at the same time. It’d just be his luck that Mr. Jenkins shot him in the face for evading his property.

Nothing.

Served him right for trying to do the right thing.

Rafe turned on his heel, ready to return home when he caught movement in the second story window: Someone was climbing out of the window.

Reacting quickly, Rafe ducked beneath the bushes, hiding as he watched a girl shut the window behind her, tiptoeing across the patio roof and then scaling down the gutter, all the while carrying a huge backpack. She must’ve robbed Mr. Jenkins’ house, based on her dark clothing and the red bandana covering half of her face.

Rafe’s curiosity was piqued, and he didn’t even hesitate to follow her as she snuck off the property through the yard. He kept in the shadows, not wanting to alert her to his presence as she kept a rather slow pace to keep the attention off of her. Rafe followed her a few blocks down the neighborhood, until she took a left turn into a small, dark alley, but he hid behind the corner of a house when she stopped, pulling the bandana off. Rafe stared at the side of her face, knowing he’d seen her somewhere before, but not quite remembering where from. The lighting was also not helping, as he barely could make out her features in the shadows, while she tugged a floral shirt out of the backpack, throwing it over her black top. After having fixed her outfit, she kept walking, and right as Rafe stepped out behind the house, his foot caught onto an empty glass bottle, making an unnecessary loud noise.

Rafe froze, noticing how her shoulders tensed, barely looking over her shoulder, before taking off in a sprint.

“Wait!” He called, probably the dumbest thing he could have said, running after her but even before rounding the second right corner, she disappeared.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but nothing. One of his neighbors was outside tending to her flowers, giving him a weird look. Rafe only let out a polite chuckle, giving her a wave before he turned on his heel, making his way back home.

“How the fuck did she just disappear into thin air?” He muttered to himself. As he walked through his gate, he couldn’t help to peek over to Jenkins’ house if the old man was home already, but the house was still dark. Rafe tried to get back to work looking at new furniture, but his mind kept going back to the thief. As the sun started to set Rafe finally heard Jenkins’ Aston Martin pull into his drive way, and he figured it wouldn’t take long until the sheriff’s department showed up.

Minutes went by, then hours, and Rafe started to wonder if there was some other case Shoupe had to attend to, must be a real big case if he couldn’t even spare one deputy to check out Jenkins. Then again, Rafe would’ve had heard about it. Kildare wasn’t that big. It was already dark by the time the sheriff’s car pulled up on the street. Shortly after, the bell rang and as inconspicuously as possible, Rafe opened the door, feigning surprise.

“Shoupe. What brings you here at this hour?”

The sheriff only looked at Rafe unimpressed. He was pretty sure that Shoupe still resented him for the entire Peterkin thing, but innocent until proven guilty, right?

“Rafe… There was a break in at Mr. Jenkins’ house and I’m just here to ask if you saw anything suspicious,” Shoupe said, flipping open a small notepad.

Rafe rubbed his chin, sighing. “A break in huh? That sucks. I haven’t heard anything, though, sorry that I am of no help. What was stolen?”

“Jewelry that belonged to his late wife. The thief broke into the safe and completely emptied it. Took all the cash, too,” Shoupe said, scribbling something down on his notepad before looking at Rafe again.

“Bummer… I’ll let you know though, if I happen to remember something,” Rafe added.

Shoupe let out a grunt, stuffing his notepad away and turned to leave. Rafe stood in the doorway, hesitating, before calling out.

“Hey Shoupe.”

He turned around, raising a brow at Rafe.

“What took you guys so long?”

“What do you mean, son? We got here as soon as Mr. Jenkins called us.”

Huh.

“Really?” Rafe said, thinking. “Sorry, I just thought Mr. Jenkins has been home for a while now and you’re just now questioning me. Was wondering how fast you would get here if I had a problem.”

Shoupe eyed him suspiciously. “Mr. Jenkins didn’t notice the break in until an hour ago, his security system was active when he got home, so he had no reason to suspect anything…. You sure you didn’t see anything?”

“Positive,” Rafe insisted. “Have a good night, Shoupe.”

The sheriff stood on the porch for another second before he left with a small headshake, leaving Rafe with his thoughts as he shut the door. The thief must have been a pro. Bypassing the security system and taking just enough to delay the sheriff’s department from investigating? That wasn’t an easy feat. To say that Rafe was intrigued was an understatement. The way she moved with such stealth and precision proved how she knew her way around sneaking in and out. There was no way this was her first hit. He wondered what motivated her to rob the house, if she was just a plain poor Pogue, or a Kook, doing it for the thrill of it.

Rafe had to find out more about the thief. Even two drinks in, he still had to think about her. And when he set his mind on something - or someone - there was no getting past it. He knew it was going to haunt him until he figured it out. Figure her out. Problem was, how the fuck would he? Right, Kildare wasn’t that big, but it wasn’t like he could just waltz around looking for her either. And chances are she was just some tourist, looking for some fun. Before he could start forming a plan to find out who she wa, his phone buzzed, distracting him.

Top: scarlet’s throwing a party tonite. u in?

Rafe thumbed at his screen, having half a mind to decline the invitation, but when he looked up, taking in the empty room, he almost got depressed. Why was he sitting on the fucking floor, thinking about some random girl he was probably never going to see again? Downing the last of his drink, he texted Top that he’d see him at Scarlet’s.

By the time Rafe arrived, the party was already in full swing. Weaving through the crowd, he greeted the familiar faces, gravitating towards the living room where he knew Scarlet’s father kept the expensive stuff.

“Hey Rafe!”

Lifting his head, he saw Topper on the couch with some girl, waving him over. Rafe took his time walking over, because what was he, a dog?

“’sup Top,” he greeted his friend with a light slap to the shoulder. “Give me your drink.”

“Alright, damn bro,” Topper said, handing Rafe his drink, before gesturing over to you, introducing you to him. Rafe gave you a nod as you smiled shyly at him, not bothering to exchange pleasantries. The last thing he needed right now was you simpering over him, no matter how pretty you were.

“Right, so where were we…” Topper said, apparently picking up the previous conversation you were having before Rafe joined them. “Are you leaving for university anytime soon?”

“Uh… No. I could go, but I don’t want to leave my mom all by herself, you know,” you answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. You looked like you’d rather be anywhere else but at this party. Rafe gave you a quick once over as he sipped on Topper’s drink. You were pretty, he figured. Maybe a bit mousy for his taste, with the shirt under your dress and a denim jacket on top? Other girls your age would have worn only the dress and maybe even cut a slit in it, just for the sake of it. Rafe’s brows furrowed as he looked at you more closely, pausing.

“… I know you?”

Topper gave him a very unsubtle look as he chuckled awkwardly, trying to play his friend’s rudeness off, while you just sat there, your back ramrod straight, smiling at him bashfully.

“She used to go to school with us? Then uh… Transferred during her senior year.”

Squinting his eyes at you, Rafe tried to think back to his school years, before realizing.

“Right, your dad embezzled like millions of dollars from his company right?”

Topper cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling and you only smiled tightly at Rafe, the corners of your mouth not quite reaching your eyes.

“Um.. I think I’ll grab a drink, Topper,” you said, excusing yourself, quickly disappearing between the people. Topper waited until you disappeared to elbow Rafe into the side, who only smirked into his drink.

“What’s her deal?”

“Are you joking?” Topper asked with a sigh, pinching his nose. “You can’t just say shit like that man, it’s obvious she’s embarrassed. Why would you bring up her father?”

“Get off your high horse, it’s not like I embezzled a bunch of money,” Rafe huffed, shoving Topper off of him with an eyeroll. He knew that Topper was frustrated with him, but honestly, why would he care if he hurt your feelings. Topper inhaled deeply and Rafe just knew that an lecture was incoming.

“She’s a good kid. Lives just on the outskirts of the Cut now with her mom. I guess they can still afford to live on Figure 8, but her and her mother are too embarrassed to come back after all of their money was seized and her father got locked up in jail. Which is probably why we never see her around. Now, we’re definitely going to see her less because you’re such a dick.”

Rafe was only half-listening to Topper, processing what he had just been told, the gears in his head turning.

“Wait, what?” he asked, sitting up straight and looked at Topper, finally taking the conversation seriously. “How would they still be able to afford living on Figure 8 when all of their assets were seized?”

Topper shrugged his shoulders. “How the hell should I know? I’m just telling you what she told me.” He glanced to the back and paused, before looking back to Rafe. “She’s coming back. Just… Think before you speak.”

If this was any situation, Rafe would’ve probably bit Topper’s head off for being told what to do, but for once, Rafe decided to lean back and listen. A short while later, you slipped past a kissing couple, joining them on the couch, holding onto a red solo cup with both hands.

“What kind of toxic waste did Scarlet mix you?” Rafe asked as some sort of peace offering.

“Oh this?” you lifted your cup, laughing awkwardly. “It’s juice. Don’t really like alcohol.”

Rafe almost choked on his whiskey, and he let out a cough, trying to hide his surprise while Topper only leaned his head back with an exasperated look on his face, you only stared at him with an open mouth.

“Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”

After that, Rafe didn’t ask you that much, letting Topper lead the conversation and instead just soaking up information about you. In the brief interaction he had with you, Rafe somehow got the feeling that you didn’t like him that much. He didn’t even know why.

Okay, he knew why. But honestly, he was just asking what everyone would ask, right?

When Rafe got home from Scarlet’s, he didn’t know that much more from you. After he really started paying attention to you, he realized that you never really divulged that much information about yourself, despite answering all of the questions. You were much smarter than Rafe had previously assumed. He wondered how many people you had fooled. But all of this was still a theory, and he had to put that to a test.

The next day, Rafe spent his morning asking the neighborhood about your family, disguising it as friendly neighborhood chatter and it was really far too easy. If there was one thing one needed to know about the people living on Figure 8 is, that they loved to yap.

“- just dreadful. That poor girl. Her mother took her out of the academy in her senior year and now they live next to Franklin Stewart on the other side of the island…” Susannah shook her head as she feigned distress, but Rafe didn’t believe an ounce of the compassion she was showing. She used to be best tea buddies with Rose, that really said it all.

“Oh man… I really hope her family is doing alright,” Rafe said stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Anyways… Thanks for the chat, Mrs. Cooper. I’ve kept you long enough.”

She only waved him off with an obnoxious laugh, “Please, don’t you worry about it. Give Rose my best wishes, okay?”

Rafe gave her a smile, which immediately dropped as soon as he turned to leave. “What a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, walking back to his house. At least it paid off having to talk to Susannah, since he now knew where you lived. He didn’t ponder over it long before he got on his bike, riding over to the Cut. As the mansions and well groomed front yards slowly turned smaller, one might say modest, he couldn’t imagine downgrading from Figure 8 to the cut. Though, now that he thought about it, he figured his family was pretty close from having to give up their life on the north side of the island. Rafe let his bike roll to a stop when he reached Franking Stewart’s house, laying his eyes on the only neighboring house.

It was pretty okay for a house on the Cut. Still on the cut, though.

He took off his helmet, placing it on his bike and getting off, walking in front of his house, contemplating his next move, when the door suddenly opened and a person exited. For a split second, he thought it was you, but upon closer inspection, he realized that it was your mother. She tugged a sun hat on, before pausing when she saw Rafe on the street.

“Can I help you?”

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you… I’m Rafe, a friend of your daughters…” He said, approaching the house to avoid yelling all over the street.

Your mother beamed at him. “Really? I barely get to meet any of my daughter’s friends. She’s not home right now, but would you like to come in for a glass of lemonade?”

Rafe hesitated. On the one hand, it would be a perfect opportunity to find out more about your situation, and if you really were the thief like he suspected. On the other hand, if you happened to come home while he was still there, you’d immediately know that there was something going on. Then again, high risk, high reward?

“Sure, I’d love to.”

Rafe followed your mother into your quaint home, and while your mother was blabbering away, he took the time looking around the kitchen.

“- she’s a good girl, bless her. A bit too serious, though. I always try to encourage her to live a little, you know?” your mother handed Rafe a glass of ice cold lemonade, which he gladly accepted. He was a sucker for a good old homemade lemonade.

“She is a bit shy,” Rafe agreed with your mother, only making her laugh.

“And very headstrong. Which is why it’s so hard for me to get her to change her mind on anything. I’m just so upset that she took the whole thing with her father so hard… The burden of that really shouldn’t fall on her shoulders. Ever since we moved out here, she got more withdrawn, angry. I know she’s still upset, but I really feel like she’d be happier if she got out of her shell again.”

Hm. Maybe you were stealing to help your mother pay the bills, help your family stay afloat.

“Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that.”

Your mother laid her eyes on Rafe, smiling sadly.

“I was very sad to hear about your father’s passing. I didn’t know him very well, but I’m sure he was a good man.”

Rafe almost scoffed, because only if she knew, but the noise died in his throat when your mother gave him a shoulder squeeze, rubbing his back.

“I hope you’re alright, honey. It’s hard to lose a parent at such a young age.”

His hand tightened around his lemonade glass, the coldness somewhat settling him down. He hasn’t felt the touch of a caring parent for a long time. “Thank you,” he pressed out, giving your mother a stiff smile. “Um… I should go. Don’t want to cause any more of an inconvenience,” he said, standing up.

“Oh please, don’t worry about it, I always love to meet my daughter’s friends.”

Your mother led him out of the house, and when Rafe passed the staircase that lead upstairs, his eyes caught a very familiar floral shirt tossed carelessly on the bottom of the stairs. Your mother followed his eyesight, palming her forehead, embarrassed.

“Oh god, please forgive the mess. I always try to tell her to keep her things in order,” she quickly said, picking up the shirt and hanging it over her arm. Rafe however only waved her off, giving her a charming smile.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a shirt.”

After bidding good bye to your mother, Rafe drove to the nearest beach, shutting his bike off to take moment to process. The shirt confirmed his suspicion, you were the thief he saw breaking into Jenkins’ house. He still didn’t know what your motives for stealing were. It was clear to him that your mother was very open about what your father had done, and you still seemed to be doing fairly well, all things considered. Where you paying the bills with the shit you stole from other people’s houses? Rafe stared at to sea for a second, before he got an idea, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

rafe: anything going down tonight?

top: uh

top: i think there’s a party at the boneyard.

top: pogue party, tho

rafe: thats fine.

rafe: you think you can get your friend to come?

top: … why? so you can embarrass her some more?

rafe: just want a second chance, maybe apologize

top: i’ll see what i can do. no promises, tho

“So, why did you really want her to come?”

Rafe was aware that Topper didn’t even have to say your name for him to realize who he was talking about. Rafe took a sip from his drink, wincing a bit. While he did say that he didn’t care about the fact this was a pogue party, they did always buy the cheapest shit. He could feel Topper’s gaze on him, scrutinizing and a little suspicious.

“I didn’t really make a good first impression. Just thought it’d be nice to make amends,” he finally said, his eyes set on the crowd around the bonfire, studiously not looking at his friend.

“Amends, huh?” Topper replied, sounding not at all convinced. “You’ve never been the type to care about stuff like that, Rafe.”

Rafe shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “People change, Top.”

“Or they have ulterior motives,” Topper shot back almost immediately, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin at the accusation.

He finally looked up to meet Topper’s gaze, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Can’t a guy try to be better without being accused of having a hidden agenda?”

Topper held his gaze for a moment longer before breaking into a grin himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just...don't mess with her, okay? She's been through enough."

Rafe raised his hands in surrender, his grin still in place. "Promise, Top. No messing around."

He did intend to make amends, but not for the reasons Topper thought. There were still so many questions Rafe needed answers to, and he was willing to play nice to get to them.

Topper only rolled his eyes at him, looking to the side for a bit. “Head’s up,” he muttered, before straightening his back, greeting you when you joined them.

“Hey guys,” you said, waving at them sheepishly.

Topper gave you a brief hug. “Hey, I was hoping you could make it. You remember, Rafe, right?”

“Yeah of course,” you replied, your voice light, but Rafe couldn’t help but think that your gaze somewhat hardened when you laid your eyes on him. He hoped that he was still able to salvage the relationship.

“Hey. Nice to see you again,” Rafe told you, giving you a charming grin. “You got anything to drink yet?” He looked pointedly at Topper, who stared back at him, his expression unmoving. Rafe inclined his head, raising his brow and Topper bit back a sigh, standing up.

“Let me get you something to drink. No alcohol, right?”

“Uh no, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “I’m not really thirsty anyways.”

Topper waved her off, lifting his own cup. “It’s fine. I need a refill anyway.” With that, Topper turned to leave, leaving you with Rafe.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable the other night,” Rafe started and you looked at him in surprise, your eyes widened. “I might have been a bit insensitive, maybe a bit too forward. I’m really sorry.”

It felt like swallowing gravel, the over the top apology, but he hoped that it came across as sincere.

You let out a breath, your forehead pinched, like you were holding something back. He saw a flicker of something in your eyes, and he realized you didn’t buy a single thing he just said.

“It’s fine,” you then said, smiling at him and Rafe raised an eyebrow, seeing past your facade, though he had to admit that you were a good actor. If he couldn’t get close to you by being nice, it seemed like he had to resort to his back up plan

“We good, then?” he said, offering you his hand, which you shook, after hesitating for a brief second.

“Sure.”

You leaned back against the boulder Rafe was sitting on, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the two of you. Rafe considered throwing himself into the black water, when you finally spoke up.

“My mom told me you came by this morning.”

“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and your mother saw me outside your house,” Rafe explained, glancing over at you. “Hope you didn’t mind that I called myself a friend.”

“It’s okay..” You trailed off, like you were about to add something else, but hesitating. Usually, he’d be fed up with people not speaking when they want to, but he was intrigued and figured he’d give you the time you needed to spit it out.

“What did you and my mom talk about?” you asked lightly, but Rafe knew how loaded the question actually was. He waited for a beat, sipping on his drink before he answered, enjoying playing with you.

“Not much, really. Just said how happy she was to meet one of your friends… She’s really nice,” he added and you gave him a wry smile.

“Thanks.”

Rafe paused for a beat.

“You guys are doing okay, right? Financially, I mean?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he was praying to god he was pressing the right buttons.

“Yes. Why?”

“Was just wondering,” Rafe answered nonchalantly, shrugging with his shoulders. “I remember when Ward’s company hit a rough patch and we almost lost our house. But now, we’re better than I ever, and really appreciate my home and everything in it. I can’t even imagine how it feels like to lose everything just like that.”

He turned to look at you, catching how you were clenching your jaw and like the perfect friend he was, Topper returned with two cups in his hand.

“Hey, so they didn’t have juice, but I go-”

“I’m so sorry, Topper,” you said, interrupting him with a small smile. “I have to go. I forgot that I promised my mom I would help her with something early in the morning. But I really appreciate you inviting me out.”

“I- What?” Topper asked, confused but you only gave him a quick wave, almost ignoring Rafe entirely, before you left. Rafe would almost feel bad for pushing you, if he didn’t exactly know where you were going. Topper on the other hand, turned to his friend, glaring at him.

“Bro, what the fuck?”

Rafe drank the last of his drink, clapping Topper on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain soon. I gotta go, text you later, okay?”

He didn’t wait for a reply, tossing his empty cup into a trash bag and walking up the dune to get to his bike. Rafe took the straight way home, but decided to turn the engine off a few blocks before he got home, walking the rest of the way. The estate stood in darkness, not a single sound coming from it as he approached it, deciding to heave himself inside through a window, before deciding to wait.

It didn’t take long until he heard tinkering on the backdoor from the kitchen, then the unmistakable sound of the door clicking open. The door shut almost silently, and then quiet steps echoed over the marble floor. The moonlight shone through the window and that was the only reason Rafe saw you when you walked through the arched doorway of the living room. You froze mid step as you took in the complete lack of- well, anything.

When Rafe turned on the light, you barely reacted.

“How long have you known?” you asked with a sigh, pulling down the bandana, uncovering your face.

“Not long,” Rafe answered, as he leaned in the door way, his arms crossed. “You’re good at what you do, I’ll give you that. I was just paying attention.”

A range of emotions played on your feature - surprise, irritation, realization and then resignation.

“You saw me while I was in Mr. Jenkins’ house, didn’t you? You’re the one who was following me.”

Rafe merely raised an eyebrow and you groaned, pinching your nose.

“And you saw the shirt at my house. Damn it.”

Rafe smirked at your reaction. “So. Why are you doing this?”

Your eyes met his and Rafe actually saw a spark of defiance in them and for the first time, he actually believed you weren’t putting up an act. This was the real you.

“What’s it to you? It’s not like you’re planning on turning me in. Shoupe hates you more than he could ever hate me.”

“Well,” Rafe started, pushing off the door frame and walking over to you, “Let’s just say I’m curious. Clearly you’re a pro, but the question why is really bothering me. You need to pay the bills? Are you doing this for money?”

“What?” You asked, exasperated. “No, I told you, we’re doing fine financially.”

“Yeah ‘cause you’re such an honest person to come by.”

You gave him a look and only scoffed, turning on your heel to leave, but Rafe was quick to grab you by the wrist, holding you back.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, releasing your wrist, his eyes burning into yours. “But you’re not just getting off this easily. You tried to fucking rob me, you at least owe me an explanation.”

“I wasn’t going actually fucking rob you!” You bit at him, glaring at him with a challenging look in your eyes. Then, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, a weary expression taking over your face. “Okay! Okay. You want an explanation? Fine.”

Rafe was taken aback by your sudden cooperation, but he wasn’t going to let his surprise show. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m not doing this for money,” you started, your gaze fixed on a point somewhere over Rafe’s shoulder. “I’m doing this because… Because it’s the only way I can get back at the people who ruined my family.

You finally looked at him, your eyes hard. "The people we used to call friends, the people who claimed to care about us, they were the first ones to turn their backs on us when my father was arrested. They didn't waste a second before they started spreading rumors, tarnishing our family name even further."

Rafe was silent for a moment, processing your words. "So you're... what? Stealing from them as some sort of revenge?"

You shrugged, looking away.

“What about the stolen items? If you’re just keeping them, you’re not really that different from your father, are you?”

“What did you just say to me?”

Your nostrils flared and you glared at him, your eyes burning. Interesting. You stole from people who spread gossip about your family, but at the same time, you resented your father, and his actions, Rafe assumed.

“I sell that shit. I’m not getting caught with stolen items,” you then explained, rolling your eyes at him. “And then I give the money away.”

“Hold up, what?” Rafe paused you, frowning. “What you mean you’re “giving the money away”?”

“I don’t have time to tutor you in English.”

“Shit, you really were putting up a shy girl act, weren’t you?” Rafe huffed in disbelief, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes at him and he was speechless for a moment, not having expected your motive. Personally, he would never steal money just to give it away. Why go through all that trouble to gain nothing from it? He had to begrudge you though, you really had a pair of balls on you.

“I’m giving it to people who need it, people who live on the cut,” you elaborated with a sigh.

“You’re actually insane,” Rafe pointed out. He then froze, thinking. “So what were you planning on doing with the stuff you stole from me?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “You were pissing me off and I just wanted to see how far I could get.”

Rafe rubbed his jaw, at loss for words. “You really are something, you know that?”

Your lips twitched in a small smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Figured you would.”

Rafe glanced over at you, taking in your figure, clad in dark clothes, red bandana still in hand. “So what now?”

You seemed to wonder the same, your gaze falling to the floor. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I never thought I’d get caught, let alone by someone like you.”

Rafe tried to not get offended by that.

“Maybe I should get out of the game while I still can get away unscathed.”

“Sounds like a smart idea,” he said and you looked at him, biting your lip.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave, huh?”

Shrugging with his shoulders, Rafe made no move to stop you and nodded slowly, playing with the bandana in your hand.

“Cool… This was great,” you said, walking backwards. “Let’s not do it again.”

Rafe snorted and you turned around to leave, not before pausing, looking back at him.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you were, Rafe.”

With a grin, you disappeared into the hallway, no doubt leaving just the way you entered the house, leaving Rafe in the empty living room. That was the last time he saw you for a long time. Topper bombed him with questions, wanting to know what happened, but Rafe waved him off, not wanting to spill secrets that weren’t his to tell, but assured him that the two of your resolved your problems. For a while, Rafe though that you had gone against your words and just kept robbing people, but he hadn’t heard any chatter about any unsolved cases. For a while, Rafe thought that you had moved to the main land, but he happened to bump into your mother on a random afternoon, where she promptly thanked him for being such a good influence on you - which left him really bewildered. Because him? A good influence? He really didn’t want to know what that even meant.

When three months passed without a single sight of you, Rafe started to believe that you were avoiding him. Sure, you lived on the other side of the island, but again; Kildare wasn’t that big. He was bound to see you around at least once a month. Rafe wasn’t even exactly sure why it bothered him so much that he hadn’t seen you. Like, okay, he was curious about your story and the motives behind your burglaries at first, but he figured it all out, right? Rafe shouldn’t be wanting to see you anymore. Maybe he should ask Topper about you. But then again, the last time he did, it ended with you walking off.

“What, run out of girls to torment?”

Rafe lifted his head, surprised to see you grinning at him. He blurted out your name in shock like an idiot. He was so deep in thoughts, he hadn’t even notice you approaching him as he was sitting outside on the patio at Kelce’s party.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s a party, what does one do at a party?” you answered, plopping down on the couch next to him, throwing your legs in his lap like you’ve done it 100 times before. You looked different, too, your outfit wildly contrasting to the nice girl from next door outfit you were wearing at Scarlet’s party. Rafe tried to hide his perplexity by plucking the cup out of your hand, taking a big swig, expecting juice or maybe a coke and nearly choked when he realized it was vodka cran (more vodka than cran).

“The hell?” Rafe coughed, giving you a side eye. “I thought you didn’t drink alcohol?”

“Whatever made you think that?”

You reclaimed your cup, drinking from it like it was water, giving him a coy smile. Rafe ducked his head, smirking. So this is what your mother meant by good influence? You seemed less angry, more comfortable in your skin, like you had unburdened yourself from protecting your family’s reputation.

“Well, you definitely should get your liver checked out if you’re making this a regular occurrence.”

“Yeah, pot, kettle,” you shot back, holding your cup out of his reach when he lunged for it again. If Topper happened to walk out to the patio to see Rafe and you bickering again, he didn’t mention it.

And just like that, you fit yourself into his life like you had always been part of it.

There was rarely a morning when you weren’t in the kitchen when Rafe came downstairs in the morning, never questioning how you got in, building stacks and stacks of pancakes with ingredients from his pantry. You even helped him pick out the new furniture for the house, as the rooms of the Cameron estate slowly filled with interior.

The biggest work in progress was the living room, and Rafe scrolled on his laptop looking for a couch that was big enough and fit in with the rest of the decor of the house. You were sitting on the outdoor sofa next to him, your legs thrown over the arm rest like a damn pogue.

“What about this?” Rafe said, flipping his laptop around to show you the white couch with gold lining. It looked classy and he thought it fit right in with the new wall colors.

You glanced at it, shrugging, before doing a double take, frowning.

“That’s tacky as hell.”

“You know, I think I liked you better when you were acting like you were shy,” Rafe sniffed with a dirty look in your direction, keeping on scrolling. You only snickered, picking up another piece of pineapple on the fork, eating it.

“I don’t think you do.”

Rafe ignored you, frowning at his computer screen as he continued his search. It was harder than expected, and at this point he wondered if it would be easier to hire an interior designer.

“Hey Rafe.”

“What?”

Rafe kept his eyes on the screen, not moving an inch, when you suddenly leaned over, leaning your hands on his thighs and pressing your lips against his in a soft, but very decisive kiss. He let out a soft grunt, not having expected it, before he kissed you back, momentarily forgetting his search for furniture. You licked into his mouth briefly, before pulling away, grinning at him as he furrowed his brows at you.

“Still like me better shy?”

author's note: did you like it?🥹

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.7

Here we are! Finally into the series itself. Cowboy Up will be a combination of me inserting the reader into scenes from the show and putting together some scenes myself that I imagine happen around what is seen on screen.

Disclaimer that I am not a horse trainer or qualified in any way but I've spent a good part of my life around them so my experience is the basis for anything in the fic about horses.

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

WC: 1121

Previous part - Next part

---

John Dutton stopped his truck in front of the round pen where Kayce was working a horse and got out to watch his son work.  He was confused to see that his youngest daughter’s truck was parked in front of the house.  He knew that she had the day off from the ranch but John wasn’t aware that she had been visiting her brother all those years.

From inside the house, y/n was on the sofa keeping an eye out the window where her twin and father were having a tense conversation that she assumed was about the cattle that had ended up on the reservation.  Monica was next to her watching her son play on the floor in front of them.

“I know he’s my father and all but I worry about what might happen if Tate ever goes to the ranch,” y/n admitted, “it’s the most beautiful place in the world if you ask me but god does it come with conditions.

Her sister-in-law nodded, “John Dutton isn’t exactly synonymous with good news.”

They lapsed into a quiet conversation about how life had been for them both over the last few months since she’d been able to get out to the reservation, Monica smiling widely when y/n confirmed Ryan had finally made his move the other month.

Once John had driven off, the women exited the house behind Tate who ran excitedly towards the rifle John had left propped against the round pen.  Y/n leant against the fence next to Monica watching the horse come to a stop.

“I don’t trust him trying to be in Tate’s life,” she admitted to her brother, “you’ve spent all these years out of his grip.  I’d hate for dad to use him as a way back in after not being around.”

Kayce sighed, “we can only see.”

-/-/-

The next morning, y/n was in the barn mucking out the stalls whilst the other hands worked around her and in the corral.  Cleaning the stalls was normally considered the job of low man, but she found some sort of enjoyment in the mundanity of the task. 

As she finished the last stall, y/n wheeled the barrow out the front of the barn and was surprised to see her sister’s black Mercedes rolling down the drive.  She dropped the handles and watched as the car went past, Beth looking at the window to make eye contact with her younger sister before continuing on to the main house.  After emptying the wheelbarrow, she re-entered the barn with her mood notably dampened by the return of Beth.  Y/n headed down the aisle to the last stall where a blue dun colt was pacing the space.  She took him out to the round pen to assess the problem’s Rip had complained about the horse having.

The colt danced at the end of the rope whilst she closed the gate and when she undid the halter, he shot off around the pen as if afraid to be anywhere near a person.  Y/n sat on the fence, patiently watching the horse work his anxiety out with a cigarette smoking between her lips.  Ryan led his horse across from the corral and leant on the fence next to her.

“He’s got a hell of an opinion in him,” he commented.

Y/n shook her head, “not an opinion Ry.  Nerves.  Poor boy is a ball of anxiety, doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or trust.”

“How you gonna sort that out then?  Can’t wear it out of him,” Ryan asked.

She watched the colt slow to a trot, “gotta show him that he can trust us and to trust in his own decisions.  Shouldn’t take too long.”

“It’s a nice shirt you’re wearing sweetheart,” Ryan smirked, referring to the blue check shirt of his she had on.

Y/n laughed, “well my boyfriend left it lying around and I was cold so figured he wouldn’t mind.”

“He doesn’t mind at all, not one bit.  In fact I think he quite likes seeing his girlfriend wear his clothes,” he mused, running his finger up her arm, “you not going to the house to see your sister?”

She sighed, “me and Beth aren’t exactly what you would call close.  She does what dad says without question, never said shit when he did what he did to Kayce and it ain’t like she was begging me to stay.  To top it off she treats Rip like shit and the bastard just lets her walk all over him because he’s been in love with her since he was 16.”

“Being in love with someone for a long time sounds familiar,” he teased 

Y/n leant back against his arm, “difference is we were both pining.  She fucks around with his feelings every chance she gets and he’ll never go against her.”

-/-/-

Sat on Comanche, y/n watched as her brothers reunited for the first time in years and laughed as they teased each other as if they’d never been apart.  She smiled at how comfortable Tate looked on his grandfather’s horse and, as much as the sisters fought, she was reassured that Beth had her twin’s back like her.  

“Kayce let’s go,” she called across to him, “grab a horse.”

Part of her soul felt like it was healing watching how her father was with Tate and being back on the plains with all of her brothers.  Beth hadn’t been on a horse since their mother’s death but y/n had spent days of her childhood riding with the cattle alongside her brothers, racing each other despite the annoyance of John.  As Lee and Kayce raced around the herd of buffalo, y/n rode up to where Jamie was talking to their father.

“Kayce might be the only man who can outride him,” her brother observed.

She smiled, “only man but sure as hell not the only person.”

With a click to Comanche, y/n took off galloping after her brothers.  The three of them took turns pulling ahead of the others but ultimately it would have been too close to decide a winner.  Although we all know that in a straight line race y/n had the advantage, what with being a barrel racer and all.

“You joining us to fish?” Lee asked when they finally came to a halt.

Y/n shook her head, “I’m not the one who has years to regain with him Lee.  I’ll let you have your boys day out.  I’m gonna head back with the rest and do some more work with that colt."

[vhstown]

'til the breath returns

— hobie brown x gn!reader (dissociation comfort)

summary: It's hard to stay in your own body sometimes. At least Hobie's right there with you.

warnings: v self-indulgent (so may not be a very accurate depiction of dissociation erm...), dissociation / derealisation / depersonalisation (those terms are distinct but just in case :p), anxious behaviour, hurt/comfort-ish, hobie is trying his best? (he's not ur therapist but it's okay) & not proofread

word count: 1.9k

a/n: been struggling to get out of a dp/dr funk recently so. here we are! no gif lemme keep this one on the down-low fr 😭 img is of camden town from pinterest

🕸️📞🎸

"Hello? Hello...?"

The muscles in your shoulders tightened at the sound of the voice, obscurely louder than anything else around you — around you being the market, that was. Just how long had you been here?

You felt a burning ache in your eyes as you looked around, taking in the blur around you before meeting the expression of the man in front of you. The owner of the food truck, of course. He had an impatient look on his face, but it was too much detail to be anxious about.

"Sorry, uh..." you offered quietly, cut off by another loud voice behind you.

"Just hurry up and pay, mate! We haven't got all day!"

Your jaw tensed, crunching uncomfortably as you fumbled for something in your pockets. Trying to find cash of some sort, the world became still again, and you could barely register what they were saying before you put whatever you could find on the window sill of the truck.

Something that sounded unpleasant, another shout, maybe, followed behind you as you walked out into the open pavements of the market. Your hands felt funny, breath dry and head heavy and so light at the same time. It felt like you were floating, but also sinking so deep under water you were moving slow motion against the thick water. It was somewhat comforting, that image.

Maybe you should just sit down, let yourself fall backwards and sink. Maybe you'd wake up in bed, and fully be able to open your own eyes again. When was the last time you could do that? When was the last time you woke up? This morning, surely. It seemed so far away; maybe you should walk home, find home — it was somewhere near here. Where were you walking?

Why was the ground getting so close to your face—

"Hey, hey! Oi!"

Before your weight could fall forward anymore, you felt a hand move around your stomach. Tongue stinging too, you realise you'd bitten it. The urgent touch became more gentle, as the haste wore off and you were helped to your feet. You tried to pick up the sounds to form a "thank you", but all you could do was stare strangely as you met a face you could just about recognise.

"Don't mean to scare you, darling."

It was your boyfriend, is what you told yourself. Hobie.

"Didn't get your change..." He held out the coins in his hand, some of which were probably already yours . "And you're trippin' over yourself."

It would sound too weird if you tried to laugh, so you didn't bother.

"My bad, just out of it." Right, is what he must've thought.

"Been out of it for a while, huh?" He taps your cheek twice, bringing your attention to him. You hadn't realised you'd been staring dead straight into his chest — not anywhere near his face. "Your patty's all squashed, love."

His fingers moved gently between yours, prying the poor warm paper from your hand. The patty you had bought had started to singe the tips of your fingers, and the tips of your fingers had already broken apart the bread of the patty.

You didn't have much will to complain, but the corners of Hobie's mouth turned down in a frown. He took your hand, the pad of histhumb brushing the lingering heat off of your fingers

"What's going on? You hungry? Tired? Upset...?" All you could give him was a useless shrug — it'd probably be easier to fix if you could describe it; if only. "Hm..."

The back of his hand was cold against your forehead. Or maybe you were cold; he never really got cold after all.

"You wanna go home?"

"Hm?" you murmured, Hobie observing you. You weren't supposed to go home; you'd get over it. Fresh air and a walk was supposed to help, anyway — not like it was. "Thought you wanted to stay."

"We can always come back another time. You don't look like you're enjoying yourself."

His hand moved to your shoulder, brushing his lips over your forehead. It was definitely you that was cold.

"I think you should have my patty, too," he added, placing his in your hand.

Arm moving fully around your shoulder, the two of you started to walk back.

"It'll be warm out, soon," Hobie comments, as if trying to be inconspicuous. He pulls you closer to mams for a lady walking her dogs: little white lap dogs that turned their heads to look at you, or maybe Hobie. You tried to remember if the last time you saw them was today or last week.

"Ah, yeah..." you said, realising he was waiting for you to say something — something of more substance, probably.

"Sure bloody hope so," he continued, something like humour in his voice. "Been freezing my bum off for the past month."

Your steps felt big against the ground, like the ground was pushing back up, and you were going to float away if Hobie let you go. All you could do was just hope he didn't.

"It better not rain, though. I'll go mad if it does. Nothing's good in the rain, 'specially not food. Meant to have a street party soon."

Remembering the patty in your hand, you took a bite before Hobie had to remind you. It was veg — not beef like he'd usually have. In fact, he complained about the veg usually. Still, today, he'd wanted a veg patty. You held onto that fact like it was the first thing you'd ever been told, as you walked together.

As he continued talking, you had reached the riverside. It looked onwards to the canal, the water coloured by the orange sun. Everything always looked so different on the way back; the air was still, and it was evening by now.

"Mine or yours?" Hobie asks, as you reach the by-street.

"Mine, if you come with me."

"I ain't gonna leave you behind, or nothin'."

He cracks a smile, and you reach for his hand time time as you took the turn to your home. There were shops that passed by, but you didn't pay enough attention to figure out what they were.

And you weren't sure when you ended up in bed, probably after making conversation for a bit and changing, because you were now in your own bed, arms and legs and Hobie's chest encasing you in a relaxed hug. You were wearing a shirt that fit weirdly on you. It was likely his — the one shirt he had without lint on it. His head wasn't entirely on your shoulder, but he was close enough to press a kiss to your temple — it left a warm, tingling feeling, as did the rest of his weight against you.

"Is there something wrong specifically?" he asks, voice a quiet, smooth vibration next to you.

"Dunno, I just... feel weird. Mentally, I mean," you admit, turning your head to lean it against his. "I think this is helping, though."

"Yeah? You want me to do anything else?" You just wanted to keep yourself awake; you wanted to keep hearing his voice.

"Want to hear you talk more."

"As long as you talk as well." Your quiet sigh was audible enough to him, it seemed. "C'mon love, you've gotta talk, or you'll be stuck up there forever."

With your demeanor seeming to give up with you, he pressed another kiss to your face, near the corner of your mouth this time. It usually got a smile out of you, but you didn't know if you had the energy to. He lingered there, still.

"How about we start with right now?" he muttered, hand on your shoulder. "You gonna tell me about those new decorations in your room? Or all those new clothes in your closet? Or how your bathroom doesn't have the nice-tasting toothpaste anymore?"

"Hobie... What the hell..." You frowned. And then the smallest laugh escaped out of you, because you frowned, and then he laughed, because it was all he really needed.

"I'm serious, though. Let's start from the top?"

"Like... from when I was born?" That got a laugh out of him, thankfully. Your smile, though little, didn't seem to disappear just yet.

"Well, if you want," he replied, pulling his arms tighter around your sides. "I was thinking more like, this morning?"

This morning... A little worry creeped inside your stomach as you came to face how little you could really recount right now. The light brush of Hobie's thumb against your cheek kept you at bay, however, and you took in a deep breath.

"Well, today... we went to the market together," you started, taking his hand from your shoulder and holding it in your own. You toyed idly with his fingers, thumb brushing over his rings as your mind fell into blankness again.

"And it rained all morning," Hobie said, after a beat of silence, fingers gently squeezing yours.

"And... this little kid slipped in the mud," you murmured.

"Ah, he did. Rough, weren't it?"

"Mhm," you replied, and at the silence, you tried to continue. "Poor thing. His dad looked horrified."

The quiet chuckle against your back made your words seem somewhat more trustworthy, and you finally decided to just let yourself speak, about anything that came to mind.

"...And then we went to look at clothes. None of them were your size."

"Couldn't believe it..." Hobie commented, murmuring.

"And then we... got lost for a bit. Ended up in this shop that sold china."

"Oh yeah, there were those funny bird-lookin' ones."

"And then we walked around for a bit..."

Truthfully, he wasn't sure if it was actually helping or not, but at the very least, that fuzzy look in your eyes that scared him a bit had eased

"And now we're home," you concluded, and he kissed the side of your head as if to confirm.

"Yep. Where are we?" The question was pretty straightforward, but you took the chance to answer regardless.

"In my room... On my bed." The mattress creaked just a little as you readjusted your position, moving closer against him. "And I'm still with you."

"Uh-huh. Still here."

"It's getting dark out, though." Looking out at the dimming sky through your window, you took another breath in, not as deep as you would've liked.

"I can stay," Hobie reassured. His voice gave no reason for you to doubt it.

"Could you?"

"A hundred percent. Not a second I don't wanna spend with you."

Hobie brushed his nose against yours, before pressing a momentary kiss to your lips.

"Look," he started, voice low and soft, slightly more serious. "I'm not exactly sure how to help, but whatever you need, I'll be here."

Turning to face him again, you returned his kiss, holding it a little longer to feel the warmth of his lips against yours. Hobie held you like you were the world, and everything in it; if you didn't need to, at least you wanted to.

"Can we just keep talking?" Your voice sounded different, but not strange — a bit less tense, more certain.

"We can talk about anything you want; we've got all night."

You narrowed your eyes in thought for a moment, and he looked at you as if he already knew what you were thinking.

"...Could you scratch my back too?"

Hobie grinned, and so warmly — so easily. You felt a smile tug at your lips too, breath sinking back into your chest and the ever-present weight starting to lift from your body.

"Yeah, sweetheart — of course. Want me to switch the light off?"

You decided to nod, saving your words for when you finally laid in the darkness, curled up against him. Murmuring soft, yet sure words between each other, his fingers grazed your back in a gentle back-and-forth, and as your voice faded, he pressed another kiss to your forehead, pulling you further into him and the covers.

Breath quiet and even, you inevitably drifted into sleep. His hand was still on your back, feeling each breath of yours as it came and went, like the shore lapping against the land. And he'd breathe right with you, even when you couldn't hear him — even if he'd have to do it all over again tomorrow.

Always, he promised himself, and you. Always, until your breath returned — until you returned.

🕸️📞🎸

thank you for reading urrrr never written a comfort fic before n ik this is kind of diff but hopefully some of my usual stuff soon 🙏

rbs appreciated if u liked it, atsv masterlist here!

@phoenixinthefiles @qiupachups

[lewmagoo]

A naughty Rhett request!

I am in the mood for angsty!Rhett who doesn’t place as high as he thinks he should’ve in a rodeo and thinks the ref screwed him over, so he comes home and takes out his frustration on Reader in bed and needs to hear her give him all the praise and reassurance 👉🏻👈🏻🥹

the ride home was silent.

he always got this way after a bad ride. withdrawn. lost in his head. plagued with feelings of terrible inadequacy. he tried not to let it get to him, but he struggled. and tonight, he was even more upset than usual. you could tell by the way he remained tense, even as he drove home. he didn’t even bother to turn the radio on, which was usually the first thing he did when he started up the truck. it wasn’t just that he’d had a bad ride. in fact, he rode just fine. but when he glanced up at the scoreboard afterwards, his score was one of the lowest on the board.

that score was bogus. you knew it. he knew it. but for whatever reason, it was what he was given. and it had him spiraling with thoughts of, am i not good enough? is this really worth it? you watched him grapple with it, his mind working a million miles a minute as he processed it all during the ride home. you let him have the quiet, not wanting to inundate him with questions or try to get him to speak when he wasn’t ready to. in the early days of your relationship, you might’ve worried about him, as he’d struggled with communicating. but he had gotten better about it since then. he’d talk when he was ready.

he remained silent as he pulled into your driveway, and continued even when you’d finally walked into the house together. you decided to speak then. “are you hungry? i can fix somethin’ for you,” you said. he stood in the entryway, looking defeated. then he mumbled something as he moved to kick off his boots. “what was that?” you asked. “said ‘m not hungry!” he snapped in exasperation. but directly after that, he lowered his head, his shoulders falling. tentatively, you approached him, and he managed to look at you, his features dejected. “i’m sorry darlin’. didn’t mean t’ be short with you. i’m just…” he trailed off.

you lovingly held his face in your hands. “i know,” you hummed, leaning in to kiss him. he relished in your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “i…can we…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out. “what? it’s okay, say what you need,” you urged. he kissed you again, and there was an air of desperation to it. “i need y’ to…i…” you had a feeling what he was trying to ask about. but he couldn’t voice it, because there was part of him that felt wrong for it. dirty, and not in a good way. but you always encouraged him to speak his mind, to make his desires known. “you’re okay. it’s just me and you. talk to me, cowboy.” he had to know that he was safe with you. always.

his large hands came to rest on your hips, thumbs tracing circles over the fabric of your jeans. he let out a breath before he finally admitted what he wanted. “i need you. need to forget about this fuckin’ ride. wanna be inside you. god, i…i wanna have my way with you.” the weight of his words, so desperate, as if he was fighting the desire roiling within him, sent heat thrumming between your thighs. your fingers curled into the fabric of his button down. “yeah?” you breathed. “i’m right here. take what you want, rhett.” that was what he needed. that spoken consent to allow himself to give in to this urge. you trusted him. you wanted to give yourself to him.

one hand came up to rest against the back of your head, and he kissed you deeply, slotting his thigh between yours. something snapped within him. the invisible chains that held him back broke, and suddenly, you found yourself being guided toward the couch. it was one of those nights - you wouldn’t be making it to the bed for this encounter. rhett kissed you like a starving man, tongue and teeth, tasting you. you found yourself being maneuvered down to the floor, and you went eagerly. as soon as you were sprawled on the rug, he stopped to hover over you, and even in the low light, you could see a wildness in his eyes. narrow, like a cat’s. he’d just caught his prey, and he was going to devour it.

in a frenzy of hurried limbs, he had your jeans and panties off, and he unbuckled his belt with one hand, shoving his jeans down enough to free his cock. he at least had the decency to slide his hand between your legs, fingers searching, carefully prodding. he knew your cunt well, and he knew just how to get it soaked for him. your own arousal, mixed with his saliva that he spat upon his hand and used to lube up his cock, provided the right amount of slick for him to inch into you. at the thick intrusion, you gasped, and he swallowed the sound with his own mouth. “shhh, take it, take it,” he whispered, watching your face contort as your anatomy stretched around him.

when he bottomed out, you whined, and he gazed down at the place where your bodies met. “atta girl,” he gruffed. and then he started moving, and you saw stars. slow at first, but he wasted no time in building a rhythm. a hurried push and pull. but you knew what he needed. what he craved. so you gave it to him. “oh, rhett. you feel so fuckin’ good,” you sighed. you weren’t over exaggerating, either. he did make you feel good. he always did. but he needed extra reassurance tonight. and from the sound of the breathless moan he let out, you’d hit it right on the money. you searched for his mouth, leaving open mouthed kisses to his lips. “fuck, right there. nobody else makes me feel like this. n- oh! - nobody gets to be inside me this way. it’s all yours. only yours!” you cried.

he buried his face against your neck, groaning your name. “oh, god. say it again,” he pleaded. you clutched at his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh. “nobody else loves me like you do! nobody else fucks me like you do!” but your second sentence faltered when he offered a particularly deep thrust, cock brushing against a spot that made you squeal, your eyes rolling back. “oh my—oh fuck.” he leaned back to kiss you again, whispering into your mouth. “uh-huh, that’s right. i’m the only one that gets t’ use th-this sweet fuckin’ pussy.” and you keened at his words. “only you!” you echoed. “yo-you’re everything, rhett. f-fuck, i…i love you! i love you, i love you, i love you!”

he growled like a wounded animal, chest heaving against yours. he was losing himself. “fuck, honey, i…i can’t…” his voice was pained. “i-it’s okay,” you assured him. he was so pent up, so needy and desperate for you, that he was already there, ready to topple over the edge. and you encouraged it, begged for it. “c’mon, fill me up. cum inside your pussy,” you pleaded. you knew calling your cunt his would send him over the edge. because it was his, after all. no one else was allowed access to it. only him. and then, with a growl that melted into a broken wail, he fell apart, body tensing above you before his cock swelled within you and soon spilled his release into the very core of your being. you moaned, gladly taking every last drop he had to give.

and when he was finished, it took every ounce of strength in him not to collapse on top of you. he caught his breath, silence hanging between you for a moment as you combed your fingers through his hair. but as the post orgasm haze began to clear, you could see insecurity settling in. “shit, i didn’t mean for that t’ happen so fast. feel like a damn teenager,” he muttered. but you shook your head, smiling up at him. “nope, don’t you dare apologize. i thought it was hot,” you said. he quirked a brow up. “really?” he asked. “uh-huh. seeing you lose control…god, it’s so fucking sexy, babe,” you continued on. he smiled, leaning in to kiss you. a beat. then two. “thank you for, uh, for…yeah.”

you giggled softly. “you’re welcome, cowboy. i love you. so much.” his face grew serious as he nodded, “i luh you too,” he answered. then, “but i ain’t finished. need to take you for a ride.” and before you could say anything else, he was slipping out of you, surging downward to bury his face between your legs to show you his gratitude.

[dilfhouse]

Fresh Delivery |Negan S. X Fem!Reader | PT. ONE

Warnings: mentions of blood, explicit language, guns, kinks, cursing, negan being smug, mentions of iprisonment.

Story: Negan discovers a suspicious crate of fresh fruit. In order to keep anyone from dying Rick has to give up the secret about your farm. At first you can't stand Negan, but in the short time you've known him, he leaves a lasting sort of impression.

“Well." Negan drawls, turning his back to his men as they work to gather the last of the supplies. Every bullet, can of food, and hope snatched from the good people of Alexandria.

"Everything seems to be in order, Rick." He gives the officer a harsh pat on the shoulder, before he reached down to pry Lucille from his grasp. "You're band of heroes are doing a bang up job of gathering all this shit." He gestures to the items with the end of Lucille as Rick stood in silence giving Negan that famous ‘stink eye’, as he liked to call it. He was going to correct him for it, but as soon as he thought to chastise him one of the soldiers had a little slip up.

They had let one of the cases of fruit tip over. Fresh tomatoes, apples, and other delights tumble out onto the concrete. Leaving brusies behind on the skin as they thumped and rolled to a stop at the two men's feet. This said fruit was currently being looked over by Negan, who had not seen a single sign of a garden since taking over. His eyes narrowed and his grin returned. The air grows cold and tense as he bends down to pick up one of the apples. Rick’s whole body is frozen in place as Negan examines the fruit then slowly turns to face him.

“Rick?" The brunnette casts his gaze down before looking up at him. He holds up the ruined fruit, “Do you have any idea where these little delights came from?"

Surely the truth was just as dangerous as a lie. Either way someone would get hurt. Rick would only hope he'd just punish him by taking more supplies, but that wasn't how things worked. So a lie it was. “We found trees-“

“Bull-fucking-Shit.” He hisses, tossing the apple aside and pressing Lucille to his chest, tapping it ever so lightly, not even bothering to let Rick finish the lie. Negan wasn't dumb. He didn’t like it when people tried to make him look that way, sure he believed in a little fun but he got the shit done.

Apparently nobody learned anything from a few days ago, after he beat the crap out of two of the most important people in Rick’s original gang. Not a single thing. “Did you not learn your lesson the first time?” He snarls, hazel eyes narrowing dangerously as he eyes the dumbfounded expressions on Rick's face. Oh he caught him alright. “So, quit feeding me shit and tell me where the fucking fruit came from!”

Rich shakes his head a huffs in defeat. Sweat dripping from his brow as he locked eyes with Negan and gave in. “It’s a small farm.” He finally gives in. “She gives us fruit, in exchange for very little-"

“Oh, she?” His interest is piqued at the mention of a woman. “You let a little lady fend for herself, Rick. That’s cold!” He lets out a rolling chuckle, and smiles. It was odd that anyone would choose to be on their own versus living in a nice community. However, he knew that being on a farm was also a smart choice.

“Well lets go pay her a visit!” He waves his hand, and the other Saviors work quickly to pick up the fruit that fell. The other members stood in a small crowd watching their every move. Negan throws his hands up in the air. “We’ll give her the good ol’welcome wagon!” He hands off Lucille to Dwight, who lowers his weapon to take the bat. The leader turns and grabs Rick by the collar of his shirt, dragging him off like he was some dog towards one of the trucks, “Arat! We’ll be back. Keep an eye on the Brady bunch, will yah!”

It had been at least a week since Rick had come to see you. The Alexandrians had become close friends of yours after discovering your lovely little farm, which had been lucky enough to outlast the horrible world that surrounded the small walls of the land. Most farmers didn’t build walls like the ones you’d been graced with but it was necessary way before the biters walked the earth. From deer, to boars, and other such rodentia it prevented unnecessary destruction to the fresh garden and small patch of crops blessing your land. When Rick and his gang first came across the farm you were dry adamant about privacy, but grew to enjoy the company, and decided to pass on small crates of fresh foods on occasion since it was only you left standing to defend the farm.

However as you had been careful as to keep track of their visits, you’d notice it’s been a few days almost bordering on five since seeing Rick last. It was odd. Maybe they were busy with the herd. You knew that they had been planning for the worst, but you weren’t exactly sure. So you decided to make the decision to make the delivery yourself, you’d an abundance of fruit, veggies, and bread this season and you surely weren’t going to use it all before it was going to spoil.

As you gather the last of the fruit into one of the wooden crates, there was an unusual loud rumble from outside your gate. It sounded like a car, maybe two. Maybe it was Rick or maybe anyone from Alexandria, you drop the basket of tangerines and rush out to undo the wooden bar locking the metal gate in place. The walls were just high enough to provide coverage from the outside. So you missed the large truck and were in such a rush to make sure you’re friend was safe. So when the doors swung open to reveal Rick but not just him your face fell. He stood next to a much taller man stood behind him, his left arm hung around his broad shoulders. A large truck sat off to the side, one guy inside, and another tall, skinny, dirty blonde hair had a gun aimed on you and Rick.

The more animated one sported a huge grin and cocked his brow. "Ding-dong. Sorry I didnt ring the bell, darlin'."

You stood frozen watching between the two before you were able to say something, “Who?” You gasp, “What’s going on?” You are shocked by the situation. Had he turned on you?

“Listen, I’m so-”

“Ah, none of that Rick.” The older man speaks, swinging his right hand, handling the bat laced with barbwire up in his direction. You stumble back and he chuckles, “Dwight keep an eye on that will yah?” He shoves Rick towards the man he addressed, the guy in the truck sat unmoving watching. Rick shot this man a glare, but it was cut short by Dwight knocking him down on his knees. You lunged forward in order to help Rick, but your kept at bay by the quick movement of the stranger swinging out his bat towards your chest.

“Ah, not so fast darlin’. Rick deserved that one, he kept this little slice of heaven a secret then lied about it.” He was kind to inform you, “See Rick and his community are now under new management, but he still seems to forget the rules.” He chuckles, shoulders shrugging as he glanced back at Rick.

“Negan.” Rick hisses, “Leave her out of this. She’s on her own.” The bat at your chest lowers but does nothing to help steady the increasing beat of your heartbeat, the rise and fall of your chest comes in rapid movements.

“Ho-ly Shit!” Negan speaks out suddenly, “It’s just you out here?” He asks. As if he didn't figure that out back at the community.

You open your mouth to answer by are cut short by him once more, “Fancy livin’ you got there sweetheart. A little garden, some fresh crops, maybe a cow or two in the barn.” He tosses the weapon in his hands back and forth as he swaggers closer towards you. “So where is mama and pop-pop. I wanna meet the Mr. and the Missus."

With everything that happened in the moment, all of your adrenaline and confusion, you reached out and smacked him. Rick, despite his position, knew how Negan would react to such an action, and he wanted to help you, but the barrel that dug into his temple kept him still. "Not an inch." Dwight reminded him.

The man in the truck moved to aim his own weapon towards you. Negan holds him off with a wave of his hand. He chuckles, throaty and heartfelt, almost if he had enjoyed it.

“Day-yumn!” He nearly shouted, “You got quite a hand on yah, sweetheart.” He laughs as you clench your hands at your sides. He waits for a response or some kind of sass, but you say nothing. He leans down to be eye to eye, “Why don’t you give me a tour huh?” At this proximity you can smell the bitterness of beer and brisk scent of pine. When he didn’t get the reaction he wanted, he reached his gloved hand under your chin, finger digging into the flesh of your cheeks, “I said give me a fucking tour, princess. Don’t make me ask again.” He growled, your eyes trailing up his face.

Now you could really take in his features this close. The well trimmed peppered heart, perfect lips, hazel eyes you could lose yourself in. Sure he may have insulted your intelligence, but it felt good to have a man put you in your place. “Yes, Sir.” You reply without a beat. His lips pull into a smirk and he chuckles.

“See, Rick! We’re gettin’ along just peachy.” He finally releases your face and the dull ache in your jaw is only an afterthought as he kindly places a hand on your lower back and ushers you further towards the garden. “B-R-B.” He sings leaving his men to watch over Rick.

The gravel crunches beneath the weight of your steps as you and Negan approached the garden abundant with many fresh goodies. He swings his bat as he walks, "So what's your name, sweet cheeks?"

"Y/N, and that's all you're going to get out of me."

"Oh we'll see about that darlin'." Negan chimes in.

((So I had this all planned out and I think it'll do better in multiple parts. So keep checking back for more! Thank you for reading 📚))

[ruewrote]

𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠.

PAIRING: chloe price x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: you by petit biscuit WORD COUNT: 635

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you could hear chloe approaching before you saw her. the crunch of boots on gravel and the unmistakable sound of her humming some tune under her breath. you smirked to yourself, whole body shaking with excitement, hardly being able to contain yourself as you wait in front of the gleaming new truck, parked on the edge of the junkyard.

when chloe finally appeared, her brows knitted in suspicion. “okay, you’ve officially got me curious. what are we doing here?”

“patience, price,” you said, grinning. “i’ve got something for you, but i’m not gonna let you spoil it before it’s time.”

you stepped toward her, hands behind your back. “but first, i need you to trust me.”

she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “oh? and how do i know you’re not gonna lead me into a trap?”

you laughed softly, stepping closer until you were right in front of her. “you’ll just have to take the risk.”

before she could protest, you gently reached up and placed your hands over her eyes, guiding her forward. “no peeking. just walk with me.”

chloe let out an exaggerated sigh, but you could hear the excitement in her voice. “this better be good.”

you led her carefully through the maze of scrap cars and rusted metal, feeling her hands grip your arm as she relied on you to navigate. each step brought you closer to the surprise.

“okay, we’re almost there,” you whispered, feeling her body tense slightly with anticipation.

“ready?”

she nodded, her breath catching. “yeah, i think so. lay it on me.”

you removed your hands from her eyes, stepping back as she blinked into the fading sunlight. the moment her gaze landed on the sleek, new truck parked in front of her, you could see the disbelief wash over her face.

“dude…no fucking way,” she whispered, eyes wide. “is this…?”

“yours,” you said with a grin, watching her reaction carefully. “happy birthday, chloe.”

she froze for a moment, staring at the truck like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. her hand reached out, fingertips grazing the hood.

“holy shit,” she muttered under her breath. “this is… this is seriously mine?”

“seriously yours,” you confirmed, leaning against the truck. “i’ve been working for months to save up for it. you’ve been through enough with that old deathtrap. i figured you deserve something better.”

chloe’s eyes widened even more and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. she stared at the truck, then back at you, her expression shifting from disbelief to something deeper, something overwhelmed. “you…you did all this? for me?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “yeah. every extra hour, every side job, it was all worth it to see you with something that’s actually reliable. something that feels like you.”

for a second, she just stood there, processing the fact that you’d gone through all that for her. her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “no one’s ever done something like this for me before. i don’t even know what to say…”

she looked at you, eyes filled with gratitude, something raw and real. without warning, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close, like she didn’t want to let go.

“you didn’t have to do this,” she murmured, her voice low and a little shaky. “i seriously don’t deserve this…”

you smiled, resting your chin on her shoulder. “i wanted to. you deserve it more than you know.”

she stepped back, wiping at her eyes with a quick, embarrassed laugh. “okay, okay. enough mushy shit. let’s take this beauty for a spin.”

you watched as she hopped into the driver’s seat, her usual bravado returning as she revved the engine. the smile on her face as she looked back at you,

 that's what made it all worth it.

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