#i think what's melting my mind about this is that they cast a woman to play the doctor and a person of color to play the master | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xo-cori · 1 year ago

Note

can you do a dina x sub reader on a first date at some fancy restaurant but dina’s really flirty and touchy and loves making the reader nervous pleasee i need dom dina😵‍💫

magnetic, everything about you

pairing: dina woodward x fem!reader

summary: it’s unlike you to fall for anybody quite this hard. especially not on your first date.

warnings: kissing in public, lots of PDA in general actually, implied dom/sub dynamics

a/n: anon…….. this request changed my life. talking to dina b like uhhh ummm uhhum umm umuh uhhhhh um 😁

You aren’t made nervous easily.

In fact, you can’t remember the last time your cheeks have been this hot, or the last time you’d had this swirling feeling in your stomach, and it’s all because of her low-cut maroon dress and the way her arm hasn’t left your shoulders once after two glasses of wine. Her voice is smooth like honey, deep and sweet, and her smile is nothing short of infectious. She’s so close that you can smell the distinction between her perfume and her shampoo; a mix of roses and coconut that makes your head spin and your heart race.

This is awful, you think. She must be a succubus, or a witchy seductress; one who uses her powers to get what she wants. At this point, you’d be willing to give her anything. Whatever spell she cast is working.

The scenery of the restaurant around you seems to have disappeared. The chandeliers above that cast a warm light, the stained glass windows, all the distant chatter and conversation from tables around you. It seems that nothing matters outside of this booth, tucked away into a quiet corner, thigh-to-thigh with the woman of your dreams. She tells your stories of her friends, her coworkers, her family (mostly her older sister, you notice, they must be close). She makes your mind blank on any stories you could tell in return.

“Turns out, the car was unlocked the whole time anyways, so there was no reason for him to smash the window in the first place!” Dina laughs, and you offer a smile that might be brighter than the sun. Most people wouldn’t joke about their car getting broken into. Dina, though… Dina is different. A good different.

Conversation is easy with her. She could talk for hours and you wouldn’t mind, yet she makes sure to ask you just as many questions and ease you out of your shell. It’s only one of the many reasons you’re so whipped for this woman on your first date.

There’s a pause. A long one, and you would’ve tried to break the silence, but she seems to be studying you. It takes all of your willpower to not shrink under her prying gaze. She looks you up and down, causing you to raise your eyebrows expectantly. “What? Is there something on my face?” You wonder.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think I make you nervous.” Dina says. “It’s not like you’re really trying to hide it.”

This is quite a blow to your self esteem, considering you had been trying to hide it. Very hard, in fact. “Someone’s cocky,” you tilt your head away from her, an attempt to deflect from the embarrassment you feel.

“I’m cocky for a reason!” She brings her free hand to take a gentle grip of your chin, forcing you to look at her. “Your face is all hot. That tends to happen when people are nervous, y’know.”

“Don’t be a smartass!” You exclaim, nervously moving your face from her grip and looking down at your lap.

“But you like it,” she points out. “Look at me.”

Your jaw tenses as you finally look back at her. Her arm, the one that’s around your shoulder, raises a bit so she can smooth out that tension with her hand. That signature smile of hers is still there, and it makes you melt into her touch. “You like it, right?”

After a moment of silence, you nod. “Yeah, actually. Is it obvious?”

“Very.” She says. “It’s cute, though. You’re cute.”

You aren’t sure what to say to this, of course, but you find yourself immediately regretting the first words you can find.

“Kiss me,” you whisper. “Please.”

Her dark eyes widen, and at first, you figured you’ve already fucked this all up; that is, until she scans the room, pleased to find that no one’s being nosy. Little do you know, she’d been waiting for this moment all night.

When she finally kisses you, you can tell. Her hand holds the back of your head while the other wanders to your thigh, securing you into place, though you wouldn’t dream of pulling away. You taste her cherry lipgloss and the red wine that lingers on her tongue. Mindlessly, you grab onto her shoulder, thankful that she wore a strapless dress so that you could feel the smooth skin above her collarbone. You’d do anything to be closer to her. You’d crawl right into her lap if you weren’t in public.

The hand on your thigh wanders up to your waist, flexing against your rib cage, causing you to arch your back and whine as her tongue caresses yours. The simplest of touches, yet your knees turn to jelly beneath you.

Although hesitantly, she’s the first to break away. Her lips are plump and her cheeks dark, which fills you with an odd sense of pride. “Oh, you’ve been wanting that for a while, huh?” She teases.

You just nod your head dumbly, still eyeing her lips, wishing they were still on yours.

“You don’t have any plans after this, do you?” Dina asks with a hopeful tone. Your heart does a flip inside your chest.

“No,” you tell her. “Do you?”

“Unless you wanna leave with me, then no. I don’t.” She shrugs, watching as another wide smile breaks across your face.

You squeeze her shoulder. “I guess we both have plans, then.”

The sparks still haven’t faded. Dina smiles right back at you and you share a quiet laugh, uncaring to those around you, and most definitely uncaring to the fact that you’re gonna be leaving your car in the parking lot for the night. You’re unsure what the night holds, but Dina’s got you wrapped around her finger, and she looks at you like she knows it.

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #dina the last of us #dina tlou #dina woodward #dina nolastname #dina x reader #dina woodward x reader #dina x you #dina woodward x you #dina x fem reader

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

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Hi, boo! I have a request to make since I've been feeling icky the past few mornings due to allergies.

Loki is introduced to chocolate for the first time by reader. Bonus points for Gryffindor if there's smut involved 😉😉

I'm talking...chocolate fondue type smut..if you catch my drift 😜

Welllll since it's you, and since you have crummy allergies making you feel bad, and since I love you...buckle up baby 🍫I hope you feel better very soon! x

You asked for this.

Make me Melt

Warnings: Smuttish. w/c 500

Masterlist here

The rustle of unfamiliar foil made Loki cast a glance over his shoulder.

He did a double take.

"Another Midgardian health food, is it?" he drawled, continuing to chop carrots with methodical grace.

He could have cut that sarcasm, too.

You rolled your eyes. His playful barb recalled the time you spent trying to convince him doughnuts were peak nutrition when he caught you with a box of twelve in bed.

Smiling at the memory, you paused to enjoy the sight of his triceps flex against his t-shirt with every careful thud of the knife.

"No," you chimed, leaning on the counter and breaking off a piece of the huge bar of chocolate. Loki looked over his shoulder again, eyebrows raised. "Really?" he crooned. "Well, what's life without a little naughtiness mmm?"

The god set the blade down, spinning to face you with a carrot stick poised between his fingers. He brought it to his lips. The subsequent crunch made your pussy clench.

He chewed.

He swallowed.

"May I?" he asked, tilting his head with a smirk. You looked at the chunk of chocolate in your fingers. It had begun to melt. You could blame the primal heat steaming off Loki for that.

"I don't think you'd like it," you quipped, smiling sweetly as his eyes narrowed in warning.

You popped the square in your mouth.

In two strides, Loki had you caged against the counter-top.

He stared down at you, random strands of curl brushing against your cheeks. "We'll see about that," he breathed playfully, nudging his nose against your forehead. Like a magnet, your chin rose. His tongue grazed against your lips, impatient for entry.

You felt yourself melt into him like the chocolate warming in your mouth. A warrior woman turned putty in his ridiculously dexterous hands. Loki's tongue swept and tangled with your own. Deep, silken waves that made you lose yourself.

He was tasting it. Swallowing, before delving deeper. Wetter. More-

Loki moaned down your throat, before hoisting you onto the counter. He spread your legs, releasing a ragged gasp before mounting your mouth with his own once more. You could feel his cock pressed against your inner thigh, hard and furiously ready to do his basest will. And yours.

There was a slurp as he withdrew. You sat there, panting with your eyes closed.

"I like it," he purred, slurring quietly against your parted lips.

You heard foil rustle beside you, glancing down in a haze to see Loki's fingers rubbing seductively through the chocolate 's break-lines. You squirmed on the counter, grasping needily at his shirt.

He pressed his cock against your heat, proud brow twitching as you released a frustrated mewl of his name.

"I want more-" Loki growled. He looked down through half-lidded eyes, a wicked glint making them shine as the foiled rustled again.

"-so let's see what we can do with the rest of this, shall we?"

A/N - I might continue this with the full shebang if we think it could work - what could he have in mind?!?!The imagination boggles ;)

Not doing the whole list cos its just a lil happy sunday snack!:)

@simplyholl @wheredafandomat @glitchquake @goddessofwonderland @glitchquake @skymoonandstardust @ladyofthestayingpower @gigglingtiggerv2 @marygoddessofmischief @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet @sebstanwhore @holdmytesseract @muddyorbsblr @lokikissesmyforehead @mochie85 @justjoanne242 @kikster606 @gruftiela @acidcasualties @smolvenger @litaloni @lokischambermaid @mischief2sarawr @alexakeyloveloki @thedistractedagglomeration @maple-seed

#loki asks #loki x reader #loki smut #loki drabble #loki imagine

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atinylittlepain · 1 year ago

Text

Apothecary - chapter nine

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

ring around the moon, trouble coming soon.

warnings | 18+ smut, ANGST - i'm not going to spoil anything but fr shit gets real and very sad here so please take care

wordcount: 5K ish

a/n | i am so nervous to share this chapter. listen, this was a very difficult chapter for me to write. i have to thank @beskarandblasters for holding my hand and keeping my secret through it. all i can say is, it hurt me as much as i imagine it might hurt you and i am truly sorry. this is where the progression of the plot dictated me to go. as mentioned, this is the last chapter for a while, but there is much much more to come once i return in august. my inbox is always open, come tell me what you think <3

........................................

“I think Ellie was disappointed.”

“Why d’you think that?” “I don’t know, I think she was expecting a little more razzle-dazzle.” Joel chuckles at that, pulling her closer into his side on the couch and landing a kiss to the top of her head. The fire crackles and pops, the glow of the fireplace crawling up the walls of the living room, hazy and golden.

“Should’ve done that little candle trick, darlin. Kid’s eyes would’ve popped out of her head.”

“Pfft, I’m pretty sure your eyes almost popped out of your head when I showed it to you.” They share a quiet laugh, settling down into each other, the warmth from the fireplace melting muscle and bone into an easy tangle. It’s the last night of Samhain, a time, she had explained to Joel, to burn away the passing year before the darkness of winter settles in. While Ellie had been excited for the late night fire, she had seemed a bit unsatisfied with how simple and quiet the whole thing had been, excusing herself with a dramatic yawn to her room in the outfitted garage. But Joel doesn’t mind if it means that he gets a little more time with his woman just to himself.

“So, was this a good, um– is holiday the right word?” Though he feels a bit foolish asking it, she just smiles, tilting her chin up at him from where she’s resting against his chest.

“Holiday works, yeah. And this was the best one I’ve had in a while.”

“Really?” Her smile broadens, nodding at his question.

“Mmhmm, because I got to share it with you and Ellie.” He may not understand all of it, the traditions and history, how any of it can even be real, but what he does know is that it means something for her to share this with him, with them.

“I’m glad that you did, darlin, and I know Ellie is too. I– thank you.” Her brow quirks at that, leaning back to fully look at him.

“What’re you saying thank you for?”

“I don’t know– everything. Just, thank you.” He does know, his mind rolling through memories. He could thank her for taking Ellie under her wing, keeping her out of trouble and getting her excited about something. He could thank her for being patient with him, being honest with him, giving him a second chance and then some when he first tried to figure her out. He could thank her for moving in with him, for waking up next to him every morning, for taking his hand in hers whenever they walk through town. He could thank her for that first time they met, how she whirled around him, all warmth and no pretense, so easily letting herself into the small pinprick of light that was his world. He could thank her for a lot of things, but the language fails him, so he settles for everything, sealing his words with a slanted kiss as she twists in his hold to deepen it.

He feels like a teenager again with how bad he wants her all the time, pushing and pulling to get her splayed out on the living room rug, the fire casting a radiant waltz over every new inch of skin he reveals. When he tugs her jeans down her hips, hands a greedy drag, she huffs out a laugh that draws his attention back up to her face.

“You’re very insistent tonight.” She says it with a quirked grin, head tilted to look at him where he’s kneeling between her legs. His heart catches at the sight of her, shirt discarded, bare from the waist up, her jeans still halfway down her legs, hair wild and lips darkened by his kisses. And suddenly his insistence turns a little quicker, a little headier, a little darker, not giving her any answer but pulling her pants off the rest of the way before settling back between her thighs, his open mouth dragging up soft skin before hovering over the faded cotton of her panties, her hips jolting with each of his hot exhales.

He can’t tear his eyes away from her, propped up on her elbows to look at him, brows pinched at the way he ghosts his lips over her, nosing at her clit through thin fabric. He’s never wanted anyone like this, so unconditionally, however he can, in whatever way he can, a surrender so complete it scares him. But getting her like this, sighing for him, whispering his name, it’s enough for him to give it all up to her, more than willingly.

When he finally stops teasing her, getting her completely bare for him, giving her his mouth in the way he knows she wants it, it’s like the sweetest prayer, every sigh a sacrament, her fingers threading through his hair to guide him a holy hail. The woman he worships and the pleasure he provides. He indulges in her, a delicate devouring of her, licking into her before nosing up until his lips drag over her clit, tongue finding that spot, a persistent press. He knows every moan, every jolting muscle, every crumbling exhale, another piece of her he gets to hold.

Her heel digs into his shoulder blade, knee bent and askew as she tenses all at once, hips canting up into his mouth, before going slack with a ragged breath of his name, a brilliant vision of release. A kiss to her hip bone, one to her heaving stomach, the valley of her breasts, the curve of her chin before he stops at her lips, both of them insistent in their shared tangle.

Where he worships, she wills, hands moving with certainty, working him out of his clothes until his skin can press against hers. The heat from the still-blazing fire sets sweat beading, cheeks flushed in warmth as they move together.

“So good like this, darlin. My woman, mine.” Her back arches up, the peaks of her breasts drawn taut against his skin where they’re pressed together, humid and hazy, all heat, all need. She’s perfect around him, cunt swollen and dripping as his hips spear into hers, her heel an insistent press into his ass. Stay here, be mine, stay here, I’m yours.

He ducks his head down, skin pulling away with a smarting stick they’ve started to sweat so much, his teeth catching on the curve of her breast, her cry washing over him when he bites down.

“Joel.” There it is, long and raspy, the only way he likes to hear his name, dripping with need, slipping down her throat. The slap of skin, the salacious sound of her cunt taking him again and again and again. And it’s greedy when he brings his fingers down to smear over her clit, groaning at the way she clenches around him, desperate to pull that pleasure from her one more time.

“Please.” Oh how closely pain and pleasure dance in the crumbling of her brow, the way her lips part around a frown that hinges into a cry when she unravels around him, wet and aching, the tendons in her throat jumping, inviting his mouth to press against them as he goes spiraling after her, his warmth smearing in the crux of her thighs.

They fall asleep to the slow, whimpering embers of the fire, a faint smolder of shadows cast over their still embrace, the night pulling them into the pagan new year.

…

“Have you seen Stevie today?”

“Not since this morning, why?” She shrugs at Ellie’s question, checking over her shoulder at the pot of herbs steeping on the stove before focusing back on her.

“I don’t know, I just– she’s usually around the shop at this time of day, I swear it’s like she’s figured out exactly what time you come over from school.” Ellie hums in agreement, swiveling a bit side to side on her stool next to the butcher block.

“Sometimes she likes to follow Joel, y’know, maybe she wandered outside the gate with him this morning.” That thought seems to distress Ellie, her eyebrows jilting up in a worried pinch that she’s quick to calm.

“Don’t worry about that, kid. Little miss may like to follow him, but she knows better than to wander outside. Anyways, she’s probably just found a little trouble to get into.” She’s a bit too distracted to worry much more about Stevie, she knows she can handle herself and her mind is stuck on the fact that Joel’s patrol shifts are ramping up again. It still nags her thoughts whenever he’s outside the walls, that maybe this is the time that he ends up like all the others, a constant eye on the clock until he’s back.

“You know he’s gonna come back, right? He always comes back.” Ellie’s quiet words snap her back out of her head, grateful for the easy comfort she offers.

“I know. Just, still gotta worry a bit. But I know. I bet we’ll see him and Stevie both waltzing toward us when we head down to the dining hall for the community dinner.” Ellie lets out a groan at the mention of their obligation to join in at the once-a-month shared meal, something Maria recommended as a way to keep the rumor mill quiet. She had never thought about it that way, that her keeping to herself made all the talk worse, and all the talk then made her want to shutter herself away even more. But being around the other folks of Jackson more, and not just when she’s treating them, has seemed to further quell all the swirling rumors. Hence, community dinner night.

“Kid, I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’m pretty sure Dina is gonna be there.” Even though she’s certain they’ve been dating for a few months now, any mention of Dina is a surefire way to set Ellie blushing, which she tries to hide behind a scrunched up expression.

“I mean, yeah, I guess, it’s whatever. But I’m swiping an extra piece of pie for my troubles.” She has to laugh at Ellie’s huffy claim, shaking her head before turning back to the stove.

“I won’t tell if you come help me pour this stuff into these bottles.”

…

It’s not that he minds it exactly, he understands that it’s a good sign that people are seeking out her help. But he’d rather not hear about some man’s rash in the middle of his dinner. Ellie shoots him a grossed-out expression around her spoon, and Joel is inclined to agree with the sentiment, though his woman seems to have no trouble talking with the man about a salve she can give him for his particular ailment. The dining hall is close and warm, folks sharing tables with each other, conversation easy and echoing in the high-ceilinged room, and Joel can’t wait until it’s socially acceptable for them to leave.

“If you stop by the shop in the morning I’ll have that all whipped up for you, ok?” The man thanks her quietly, nodding to Joel as well before he walks back over to his own table. Joel, meanwhile, is trying and failing to remember the guy’s name.

“Artie Peterson, he works on the council with Maria and Tommy.” Once again, she seems to know what he’s thinking before he even opens his mouth, giving his thigh a quick squeeze before tucking back into her meal. But it isn’t long after that Maura Nichols is coming over with her plate.

“Hey y’all, is it ok if I sit with you?” She’s quick to welcome Maura over, pulling out the empty seat next to her for the woman and starting up an easy conversation with her. Joel can’t help but notice the worry lining Maura’s eyes, the quick glances away, and he reckons that she’s probably looking out for Matthew, guarding against another scene like the one he made at the town meeting. The thought is enough for him to try a little harder, leaning his elbows on the table to at least look like he’s intently listening to the conversation, nodding along to what Maura says.

“So are you two thinking about having a ceremony?” Ellie chokes on her sip of water when Maura asks that, snapping Joel back into attention, his woman letting out a nervous laugh beside him.

“Um, a ceremony for what?” She asks it on a breathy chuckle to Maura who’s still looking expectantly between them.

“Well I just assumed, two people in love and all, you’d be wanting to get married.” At that, Ellie starts coughing around a bite of pie, something between a laugh and a wheeze as Joel thumps her on the back until she settles back down.

“Oh, uh, I mean, we haven’t really talked about it. I don’t think that’s really our speed, right, Joel?” She turns her head to look at him, eyebrows creased in a clear plea for back-up.

“Yeah, I– we– that’s not, not really on the radar right now.” Maura nods, looking a bit chastened at their reaction to her questions.

“I’m sorry, me and my big mouth didn’t mean to pry, I just meant to say that you seem so good together, that’s all.” His woman graciously accepts Maura’s comment while Joel sinks back into his thoughts, Ellie muttering something about Dina and slinking off in the periphery. He was certainly surprised by Maura’s words, but even more surprised that the idea of a ceremony didn’t feel so ridiculous to him. He knows it’s silly, frivolous, something like marriage not meaning a damn thing in this world, but he doesn’t mind the idea of something official, something permanent.

He spends the rest of dinner somewhere between his seat next to his woman and a vague vision of a ring and a vow. But he shakes that thought clear of his mind when they step out into the cool night air, Ellie a few strides ahead of them, calling out for Stevie as they walk home.

“Sorry about Maura’s whole ceremony question. I didn’t mean to speak for you, I just sort of panicked.” She squeezes his hand, a nervous glance his way as they continue walking. He finds that he has to clear his throat before responding.

“No, no, that’s fine, darlin. Kind of a useless question to be asking anyways.” Part of him hopes that the quick flash across her face is something other than acquiescence, something closer to disappointment, but he doesn’t have much time to consider it before his attention is pulled away by the sound of Ellie letting out a clipped gasp.

Everything happens slow, as if underwater, Ellie kneeling down on the porch, curled over in a shuddering heave, Joel’s mind going blank with fear. And everything happens slow until it doesn’t anymore, her hand breaking from his as she makes a stilted jog up the porch steps, body going rigid as she sees whatever Ellie is hunched over.

What? It’s more of a shriek than a word, high and jagged in her throat as she sinks to her knees next to Ellie, letting out a string of staccato yelps. It’s despair distilled, the sounds she makes, Joel’s heart a tight fist as he tentatively steps onto the porch.

She could be sleeping, if you didn’t look closely. Laying on her side, having dozed off after catching the last rays of sun. But there is no rise and fall of her sleek, black fur, no stirring when Ellie lays a shaking palm over her belly.

Stevie’s not sleeping.

She’s trembling, reaching for the lifeless animal before jerking her hands away as if she might get burned, Ellie pulling her into a tight hug as she all but dissolves into sobs. And Joel feels helpless, standing over them, unable to figure out how to fucking fix this. But when his brain catches on the one thing that makes sense, that feels like an explanation and a solution all at once, he finds himself stumbling down the porch and back toward the main drag of Jackson, toward the Tispy Bison where he knows he can find who he’s looking for.

In another life, when he and Tommy lived on the road together, his brother had described what Joel did as like flipping a switch. Something would fall over his eyes and his mind, his body moving with a violent knowledge, purpose in the pain he inflicted. It’s how he moves now, cutting through the crowd in the bar and finding Mason in the back of the room, the grin on his face expectant, like he’s been waiting for him. And though the man opens his mouth to speak, Joel doesn’t give him the chance to get any words out before he’s grabbing him by the back of his neck and dragging him out of the bar on unsteady feet, slamming him hard against the alley wall.

“Tell me right now that you didn’t do it and I’ll think about not killing you.” Mason’s smirk splits into a slippery grin, not even struggling in Joel’s grip.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miller. But if you ask me, people oughta keep a closer eye on their pets.” It’s all he needs to hear, enough for him to pull his fist back before letting it swing scare into Mason’s jaw.

This time, he doesn’t stop swinging.

…

At some point, she must have worn herself out enough to fall asleep, sitting slumped on the couch, her neck tipped back in a painful crunch. Her eyes are so heavy, so swollen, that she can barely open them when a light squeeze is pressed into her shoulder.

“Joel?” Her voice is hoarse, barely cracking a whisper, too quiet for Ellie to stir, tucked close into her side and asleep. He’s kneeling in front of her legs, both his hands coming to rest on her knees, eyes searching her face, and suddenly she feels like she’s going to fall apart all over again.

“Where– where have you been?” It had been a blur, an awful haze, wrapping Stevie’s body in a thick blanket and tucking her into a box, both of them unsure what to do next except for cry. At some point, it had registered somewhere in the periphery of her mind that Joel wasn’t there, but it had been a fleeting thought, a deeper and darker wave of emotion washing it away in the night. And though she tries to be concerned about it now, any worry, any questioning is swept away with a fresh flood of tears.

“I’m so sorry, darlin. I’m here now, I’ve got you.” He shifts to sit on the couch next to her, pulling her into his side as she starts to shudder, her sob breaking into the fabric of his flannel. Her mind can’t stretch much further than the span of this grief, stop-starting itself to a jagged rhythm of disbelief followed by realizing over and over again that this is real, that her girl has left her. It feels like a horrible, lurching ride that she can’t figure out how to get off of.

“W-we need to bury her.”

“I know, darlin. We will. Just rest right now, ok? I’ll take care of everything.” They speak in a quiet hush, Ellie still sound asleep on her other side.

“I always knew it’d be time for her to g-go eventually. But it just– it feels too soon, feels too fucking soon.” Believing what she does, knowing what she does, it doesn’t make the agony any less complete, any less brutal. And once again, all she can do is cry as Joel pulls her a little closer.

…

They bury her in the backyard, beneath the towering cottonwood she had a proclivity for climbing. He knew that Ellie had grown attached to Stevie, but he’s still taken aback by just how torn apart she is, saying a few words over the freshly-covered grave before tears take over her voice again. But it’s the sight of his woman that keeps breaking his heart, a silent sadness taking over her slackened features, eyes and cheeks red with salt, her voice faint and uneven as she says goodbye.

He moves them both through the rest of the day, making sure they eat, coaxing glasses of water into their hands, keeping a fire burning in the living room where they’ve curled up on the couch. Joel knows grief. He knows that it comes in strange waves, reality stretching thin and frail in the beginning. But it still frustrates him that he can’t do more, that he can’t take their pain into his own hands and make it go away. Whatever he can control, he does. Whatever he can fix, he does.

When both of them have managed to fall asleep in the still of the night, he quietly slips out the front door, half-expecting Stevie to fall into step beside him, a twinge of pain shooting through his chest, a particular loss he didn’t know he’d feel.

Tommy is waiting for him at the stables, pressing up off the wall of the barn as Joel approaches.

“Let’s take care of this.”

The body has already gone stiff, wrapped up in an old sheet, both of them having to work to get it slung over the back of one of the horses, a heavy blanket draped over top of it to ward off prying eyes. Luckily, no one on patrol bats an eye when Tommy Miller asks for the gate to be opened for him and his brother.

They ride out toward the plains, the moon casting the hills in purple shadows. And, after deciding that they’ve gotten far enough away, together, they dig.

He had gone to his brother the night before and told him everything. And Tommy had made a few things clear. He would help him, but no one could ever find out, they would never speak of this again, and they would get it done as soon as possible.

They work through the night, the sun curling golden fingers over their shifting backs, stripped down to their undershirts, sweat sticking cool in the crisp morning air. When they finish, a fresh plot of overturned dirt lays before them, what rests below something only they will ever know, with any luck. Joel opens his mouth to speak, but Tommy stops him with a palm held out.

“Don’t, Joel. I’m not gonna judge you for what you did, but I ain’t gonna talk about it either. Blood helps blood, but I don’t wanna hear another thing about this. It’s done. Let’s get back to town before anyone realizes we’re gone.”

…

She wakes up the same way she did the morning before, curled on the couch with Ellie tucked into her side. It was a deep but restless sleep, nothing could have woken her from it, but now opening her eyes, she feels like she could fall back into it all over again. She hears what she assumes is Joel puttering around in the kitchen, the soft clink of dishes, the click of the stove coming on and the hiss of the kettle.

She knows she can’t stay on the couch again today, knows that people need her, so she presses her grief down until she can just barely swallow it, quietly getting up without waking Ellie and padding into the kitchen.

“You must think me really pitiful to be brewing actual coffee.” He doesn’t say anything, simply taking the few strides to reach her and pull her into a tight hug, her face pressing into his shirt, inhaling him so deep she can’t cry.

“I’m fine, really. I am.”

“No one’s expecting you to be fine, darlin. Stevie was, well, she was different, wasn’t she?” She finds herself letting out a weak laugh at that, nodding meekly against his chest.

“Yeah, she was.” Silence, and suddenly she feels like it’s a really good idea to stay exactly like this, swaying lightly in his hold, her nose buried into the fabric of his shirt, for the rest of the day, a sign in and of itself for her to disentangle herself with a shaky sigh.

“I’m not gonna miss any more appointments. Don’t wanna let people down.” Joel nods, holding onto one of her hands between them.

“I think people would understand if you needed another day, honey. But I also think it could be good for you, get out, take your mind off it for a little while.” He pours her a cup of coffee and gets started on breakfast, Ellie shuffling in and slumping down at the dining table next to her. She curves what could be a smile across her face, resting one of her hands over Ellie’s.

“Hey, kid, I’m gonna go into the shop today. Would you– would you wanna come help out after school?” She shrugs, a quietly murmured yeah, I guess as Joel sets down plates for all of them.

There’s no two ways about it, the morning is hard, making her house visits, half expecting Stevie to be trailing her heels, half expecting to catch a glimpse of her girl as she moves through town. People are surprisingly kind about it, offering quiet apologies that she thinks might be more painful than if they just didn’t say anything, though she knows they mean well.

It’s both a relief and a reminder, getting back to the shop, and she’s desperate for Ellie to show up so it doesn’t seem so quiet. But soon after she does come over from school, Maura comes in as well, carrying a small bundle of flowers, some of the last of the season.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Some folks don’t understand how hard it is, losing a pet. But they’re as much family as anyone else, aren’t they?” She accepts the flowers from Maura with a small smile and a nod, still surprised by how easily this woman extends her kindness.

“I also wanted to see if you heard the news.” Her brow furrows at that, looking over to Ellie who seems equally unsure of what Maura’s talking about.

“Oh, you haven’t. Well, apparently Mason skipped town. Folks hadn’t seen him in a day or so, and Tommy finally let people know that he decided to leave last night. Why anyone in their right mind would want to go out there on their own is beyond me, but I say good riddance.”

It doesn’t feel right, though she can’t place exactly why. She looks to Ellie, whose face is set in a strange, steely expression, something hidden, working through something in her mind. Her thoughts flicker, moving her before it’s even fully formed in her mind, an instinctive knowing, like when you go to reach for something but find it missing.

“Maura, could you stay here with Ellie for a moment? I need to go check on something real quick.” Ellie calls after her, though she’s already out the door and heading for the stables.

Joel looks taken aback when he sees her walking a straight line toward him, but before he can get a word in edgewise she’s grabbing him by his wrist and tugging him into the stables, into the darkest corner behind a large stack of hay, her words coming out in a hushed torrent.

“Tell me right now that you had nothing to do with it.” His mouth is slack, brow furrowed, a picture of perfect surprise as she points her finger into his chest.

“What– nothing to do with what? What’re you talking about?”

“Mason is gone, and I swear to whatever powers there are, if you had anything to do with it I need to know now.” She can see the bob of his throat, eyes still wide at her outburst.

“Mason made his choice and he’s gone, that’s all.” She nearly laughs at his response, how dizzyingly vague it is. She knows him well enough to see that he’s keeping something from her, something in the set of his jaw, the huff he lets out as he speaks, and she wants more than anything not to see it, not to know it.

“That isn’t– that’s not good enough. Joel, I need you to promise me you didn’t have anything to do with this, please.” The tears start falling before she can stop them, and he’s quick to close the space between them, taking her face in his hands, his eyes steady on hers.

“I promise. That man made a decision and he left, end of story.” She lets him tuck her into his arms, lets him quiet her sobs, lets his palms run warm currents up and down her back.

He lies to her, and she lets him.

.......................................

taglist: @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @str84pedro @mumma-moonchild @leeeesahhh @disregardedplant @mxtokko @igloo71 @secretdazeobservation @eddie-munson-dungeon-master @cressida-clearwood @mydailyhyperfixations @mingeniee @the-ginger-hedge-witch @delicious-collection @gab-thelamb-onthemoon @thereaperisabitch @lunxramour @jupiter-sky @parrotpeggy @abbiesxox @nerdreader @ssa-raye @vermillionwinter @jksprincess10 @jordycat-2018 @lavenderkee @hungryforbatboys @casa-boiardi

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #apothecary #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller au

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nanamimizz · 2 years ago

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tags: fem reader m, fluff, food mention, eating mention, quanxi is flirtatious with the reader, no warnings

synopsis: decades could pass and quanxi still will always want to step on kishibe’s toes. even when in front of you - his new girlfriend.

kishibe introduces you to quanxi - she’s his oldest friend and he doesn’t think much of what will happen. she raises a visible brow at how you wave at her. you’re friendly if not a little quiet, she watches how you immediately turn the burner on and start serving the hot pot to the others at the table. her girls watch eagerly as you give them almost too rare strips of beef - the expensive kind that melts in their mouths.

she watches you smile, a little nervous and shy but incredibly warm; there’s a fondness in your gaze as her girls clamor and chitter excitedly about the meat you served. quanxi turns her gaze to kishibe, a singly dark eyes widening when she sees that hidden behind the palm that he’s perched on the table, he’s smiling. warm and small but still there.

she doesn’t answer when you tentatively call her name - she must make you nervous, she thinks. looking you over she nods and you sort of look like a puppy. you’re pretty in the way fireplaces and knit sweaters are pretty. you hand the meat over and quanxi can smell your perfume cutting through the smell of broth and meat and potstickers.

lavender, bergamot and cedarwood.

it all clicks together. quanxi and kishibe don’t say much - both of their girls are enough to carry conversations. you know a bit of mandarin to get through the moments when her girls don’t know the word in japanese. quanxi says your name, slightly accented by her mother tongue.

“yes? would you like more meat ms.quanxi?” she shakes her head, she isn’t all that hungry really. quanxi simply doesn’t need to be asked twice to spend kishibe’s money.

“no thank you. i just wanted you to know, that if this old dog gives you any trouble, don’t hesitate to call me. i’ll set him straight for you.” you gape at her, looking over to kishibe who seems to be mulling her words over.

“she’s right,” he hums looking over at you with amused dark eyes, “ if you ever want to land a good hit on me just call quanxi, she’s been doing that for over 10 years.”

you laugh slightly, the wrinkles around his eyes deepen as he smiles. quanxi can’t help to think that nothing has changed.

a devious thought is born in her mind.

“another offer - if you ever get bored of him, don’t hesitate to come by my way. me and my girls will treat you just fine if you ever come looking.” she says, putting in a slice of beef in her mouth enjoying the taste. a dark eye surrounded by smooth skin drinks on the scandalizing look of shock on you face before you cast a worried glance kishibe’s way. you’re cute, no wonder he wants to keep you.

kishibe brings an arm to your shoulders, wrapped in his work overcoat the bulk is heavy, warm and comforting. he brings you into his shoulder and you smell his cologne and aftershave.

“you’ve got some nerve to pull the moves on my woman right in front of me.” quanxi doesn’t open her singular eye but smiles thinly all the same.

“just wanted to keep you on your toes.” she confessed, asking you for more meat. you do so, fiddling with the tongs to drop the slices into the broth, clearly nervous that kishibe is upset. he looks over to you, and brings his head to bump forehead with you, the way cats do. he murmurs something into your ear and you smile bashfully. your lips form the words thank you and he gives that same damn goofy smile of his when he’s flirting.

yeah, she knows exactly why kishibe is adamant on keeping you.

the night continues as normal as can be when dining with a harem of fiends, somehow you even manage to bring in some of her girls’ more rowdier moments. every time she looks at her old friend, she seems him smiling even if just slightly. quanxi doesn’t think she’s human enough to feel happiness, it elude hers and escapes her heart like a fog. but she’s glad that kishibe after a very long time can experience it with you.

#lamb.writes #kishibe x reader #csm x reader #quanxi x reader #chainsaw man x reader #i want them to see each other one last time before….you know…#cw: food

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marvelobsessed134 · 1 year ago

Text

Starting to really like the real world

A/n: You KNOW I had to write stuff for Margot’s barbie because…mommy. Anyways! Also as we know in the end of the movie when Barbie goes to the real world she’s named after Ruth Handler’s daughter. Her name will still be Barbie but her last name, Handler, will be mentioned

Pairings: CEO!Barbie x Assistant!Fem reader

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral (both receiving), fingering (R receiving), Dom!Barbie, Sub!reader, mommy kink, mentions of strap on use, little degradation, and I think that’s it.

Summary: Things get heated between you and your boss.

It was just another day working at the one and only Mattel headquarters. And for the new CEO, Barbie herself. Well, Miss. Handler to the world. But everyone closest to her knows that she is -or was- a actual Barbie from barbieland. And because you’re her assistant, you know most things about the woman.

She’s always so cheery, she’s a wonderful boss. She gives you paid off time during your menstrual cycles. While yes, she has all the right organs now she still doesn’t get her period and can’t get pregnant. Which she doesn’t mind at all. She’s actually very happy she doesn’t have to worry about neither.

Today has been hectic. Since new ideas for new dolls and play sets have been announced at the annual Barbie convention. And as expected, Miss. Handler was very busy.

You just gave her coffee, printed her papers and answered some emails for her. Towards the end of the day, you were exhausted. Ready to kick back and relax while watching your favorite show. However, Barbie had told you to stay behind today.

In her bright pink office, the large window casted a golden aura due to the sun setting. You sat on the couch nervously as your boss walked in, her heels clicking on the polished floor, in her pink suit. You’re afraid you did something wrong.

She locks the door before walking towards you, sitting down next to you.

“Um, Miss. Handler…did I do anything wrong? Why was I called to stay back?” You asked.

“Y/n you know it’s Barbie after hours. Plus tonight you’re going to be calling me mommy anyways.” Your eyes widened at her words before she pressed her lips to yours. You were shocked, but melted into the kiss.

Her hands began to explore your body, groping everywhere she could. Turns out the real world really changed her. Maybe for the better.

You moaned into the kiss. “Mmm, you like that baby? I love feeling your beautiful body.” She said as she smirked against your lips.

Then, the two of you separated and you still looked at her dumbfounded. “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what’s going on, Missy.” She said, “I can see it in your eyes, you want this. So come on, submit to mommy.”

If you were standing you would’ve fell on your knees. “Yes mommy.” You whispered and she gave you a look of approval, her blue eyes growing darker.

She then went to work at unbuttoning your shirt before pulling it off, then your bra. Barbie immediately began to grope your tits before pulling a nipple into her mouth. You moaned and threw your head back.

Once she paid attention to both sides, she gracefully picked you up and laid you down on her desk. She made quick work of removing your skirt and panties. “Already so soaked for me, and I’ve barely touched you.” The blonde chuckled.

Your legs spread on their own accord, and she immediately dived in, licking up and down your folds, all the way up to your clit. You gripped the back of her head as you moaned loudly, squirming underneath her.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer, “Mommy, I’m gonna cum!”

“Go ahead, cum for mommy.” And so, you released your sweet juices all over her face. “Mmm you taste so sweet. Good girl.” Barbie praised before standing up and pushing to fingers inside of you. Your eyes rolled back as she continued to fuck you. “Fuck we’ll have to use my strap next time, how does that sound pretty girl?” Your boss moaned and your eyes widened. She’s way different than she was when she first got the real world.

“Oh yeah, it’s thick and long, it’s gonna stretch that tight pussy out so much. And I know you’ll love to suck on it, you little cock whore.” She chuckled menacingly as she continued to fuck you with her fingers as your legs began to shake and you clenched around her. “Oh god, mommy!!!!” You screamed in pleasure as you came a second time.

Barbie took her fingers out of you and licked them clean. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips, you could taste a mix of her and yourself. She then squished your cheeks and said, “Now it’s mommy’s turn. You’re going to make mommy cum like the good little slut you are, got it?” You nodded and watched as she got up and sat in her chair, she pulled her pants and panties off and spread her legs as she unbuttoned her suit jacket and shirt.

The sight of her pussy had your mouth watering you got down and crawled towards her before becoming face to face with it.

You looked up for permission and saw as Barbie tweaked her nipples lazily before saying, “Go on.” With a warm smile.

You began to lick her just as she licked you. Up and down her wet folds and up to her clit. And just like you did, she gripped the back of your head, “Oh yeah, that’s a good girl.”

You continued to eat her out. “I’m close, and you better eat up all of my cum sweetheart.” And you did, as she moaned out and her release squirted all over you, you quickly ate it all up like a good slut.

“Fuck that was good, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time, babygirl. And I want to do it over and over again.” Barbie said before leaning forward and gripping your chin, making your look up at her. “What do you say, you wanna be mommy’s little fuck toy?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good girl.”

#barbie movie x reader #barbie x reader #barbie movie #barbie #barbie smut #wlw smut #sub reader #mommy #barbie movie fanfic #fanfic #smut #smutty fanfic

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ornii · 2 years ago

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I got a Wednesday ask for you, for Valentines Day.

May I ask for Enid and Wednesday both having a crush on their friend who's oblivious as all hell to any romantic intentions anyone may have. A girl could say "You're cute in that shirt. I bet you'd look better out of it." and he'd beam a smile and say "Thanks! My mom picked it out for me!"

Well, Wednesday and Enid are rivals who are competing against each other. Their competition is so fierce that they often refuse to be near each other.

Unfortunately, they neglect their friend, who thinks he's done something wrong to push both of them away from him, so he's sulking. Less positive, less sunshine, no smiles.

How do these to reconcile and come together to make an agreement to share him? That, dear author, I leave to you.

That’s actually a great Idea since I already had a Valentines Story Here

Anyway that is a great idea.

May The Best Woman, Win.

Wenclair X Male Reader, Nothing Like a Little, friendly competition, right?

Valentines Day, the day of love and adoration for your significant other. Being a “Magician”, Mage would be the more appropriate term but the school doesn’t allow you to cast dangerous spells or incantations that could melt someone’s face off so you’re stuck with party tricks. Every day you were practicing a new form of levitation, invisibility, and summoning of spectral beings. And the week before valentines you put on a show for Nevermore and it has a fantastic end.

Standing before everyone, you had your magicians top had ready. As you Show It’s emptiness, you placed it upon the table.

“Now, you all should be prepared, this could be a. Fire hazard.” You say, your eyes quickly look to the further core of the crowd, seeing Enid so giddy for your performance as usual, but Wednesday was there, she despises child games but, she also supported your love for the magical arts. A ferocious smile was upon your face and you put everything into this one. Tapping on your had you slowly reached inside to pull out a butterfly. There were a few oos, but we’re not Ready for what came next, you placed it back inside and grabbed a lighter. Igniting the inside of your hat, you reached into with both hands and quickly pulled something out. It was a Mystery, until you opened your hands and hundreds of red, flaming butterflies flew out so calmly, they weren’t on fire, they were made of it. It dances along the night sky to the absolute beauty of the crowd.

The applause felt like a roaring wave to (Y/n), who watched as students cheer him on, and they only thing he could do was bow his head and thank everyone for their love and adoration. Unfortunately the teachers had to cut it short and make sure everyone got to their dorms safely. Thornhill obviously took hers back to their dorms, Enid was lying on her bed, absolutely giddy and chattering about it all, Wednesdays was typing upon her typewriter, trying to ignore it.

“And then the butterflies came out and it was just so, beautiful!” Enid squeals, Wednesday halts her typing for a moment.

“I know Enid, I was literally right next to you, an interesting parlor trick.” Wednesday goes back to it and Enid sits up and pouts.

“You really can’t just admit it was super cool? And it doesn’t help (Y/n)‘s the sweetest guy like ever.” Enid hugs one of her plushies.

“I suppose his overwhelming kindness is something to leave a woman.. wanting.” Wednesday says, “Which is why I suppose I’ll ask—“

“So that’s why I’m asking—“

“For him to be my valentine.” They say in Unison and both look at each other. The two stand up and sort of stand there awkwardly.

“So… you want him to be your valentine too.” Enid said, pouting a bit.

“Yes, i thought that was clear. While I despise the day of love, I can respect that he’s weaseled his way into my mind.” Wednesday admits.

“Well he’s been a cute ball of sunshine since I first met him, so…” Enid begins and offers a handshake.

“May the best woman win.” She says with a Cherry sweet smile. Wednesday takes it, coldly.

“I will win.” She responds, Enid frowns a bit. “I guess there’s nothing like a little friendly competition.

“I don’t do friendly.”

And The Rivalry began, while (Y/n) was a fantastic magician, he was a bit of a dunce when it came to hints of one’s romantic intentions. The first few hints were thrown at (Y/n), without much hinting. (Y/n) sat at the quad the next morning. He was quickly interrupted by Enid sitting next to him, immediately getting a bit close. He didn’t really see much wrong and just talked, he noticed Enid was staring really hard at him.

“And then I tells him I… Enid, are you okay? You haven’t blinked for like, two minutes.” He said, and she attempts to act oblivious.

“Oh Im staring too hard? Sorry, I was just so lost in your eyes~” She says, and (Y/n) nods.

“Ooooh. Well I have a spell to fix that, you’d be surprised how common eye injuries are in the magic business, did you know they based Dr Strange off of a famous magician? It’s—“

Enid can only sheepishly nod at his cute idiotic ramblings, as much as she wanted to interrupt him. He seemed so genuinely happy to talk about it with her. So instead she just listened to his ramblings on, just nodding away. Little did Enid know Wednesday was watching a ways away, staring a hole into her annoying dumb blonde blockhead. All she has to do was wait for her opportunity, which came knocking as (Y/n) was leaving his class. Walking down the hall he quickly stopped to not crash into Wednesday.

“(Y/n).” She says, he halts and awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“Hey Wednesday, what’s up?” He asks.

“There is Something i must ask you, will you—“

“Wait.” He says. “there’s something I have to say first.” (Y/n) said, and Wednesday slowly began to scowl a bit. He takes a deep breath.

“I want to thank you for coming to the show, I know you hate childish things and I know you probably had literally a hundred Better things to do but.. you came and I cannot thank you enough so.. so..” (Y/n) awkwardly reaches out and hugs her tightly for a few seconds and Wednesday was stunned by the platonic assault, the scent of his cologne. The warmth of his body, the alluring strength in his arms. All of it left her literally speechless. He lets go quickly, as if he’s ready for her to stab him, but she just stares at him.

“W-Wednesday?” He asks, “Are you okay?” He said, she simply turned around and walked away, literally too embarrassed to speak. (Y/n) shrugs and heads back to his dorm. Down the hall, Enids eyes focused on the scene as she saw Wednesday leave, staring At her antisocial, emo smarty pants dumb face. The friendly competition wasn’t so friendly anymore; even the tension in the dorm room was, suffocating.

The next few days, (Y/n) attempts to hang out with both of them, but you could feel that. Something was wrong. They absolutely refused to do so, even to go so far as to not even be in each others presence. While you were off shopping with Enid, Wednesday was inside her dorm as far from Enid as possible to avoid shaving the dog bald, and when you were With Wednesday in the dorm talking, Enid was with Yoko trying not to picture clawing Wednesdays eyes out. As all the negativity they had slowly began to spree into vitriol it, took a toll on you as well. You five star smile slowly faded and the beautiful light in your eyes was dull and unrealistic. It was getting to you, the jealously, anger, for what? Why we’re they at each others necks, everything was fine a week ago, the only thing that changed was the show, the magic, it was.. you.

It was a rainy night in Nevermore and, you’ve had enough, sneaking out of your dorm and crawling the gothic architecture, you eventually and soaked in rain, got to the multi colored window, and softly knocked on it. Wednesday was inside as she turns her head to see you standing there, she opened the window and let you inside. It was an awkward silence before you just blurted it out.

“I’m sorry, okay?” You say, and Wednesday squints a bit.

“Sorry about what?”

“Everything! I don’t Know, whatever I did to make you and Enid hate each other.” You admit, Wednesdays jaw tightens and she couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore.

“You two used to be friends, you could coexist and now I can’t see one without the other and I hate it, whatever i did I am sorry, please. Can we go back to how things were?” You say, trying to hold back tears as you sit on her bed, sniffling. Wednesday detested human interaction and somewhat revels in the sadness and fear some had, but yours was different. It made her sick to her stomach to see you in such turmoil, for something you didn’t even do, your only crime.. was being a friend. Your hands shook, you tried to hold it together and your sorrow was interrupted by Wednesday approaching and hugging your head, letting your face rest against her chest as she gently caressed your hair, this is the first time Wednesday has ever initiated any contact.

“It was not your fault, it was ours, Enid and I wanted to be your valentines and, we allowed it to shove us apart. We put our selfish wants and needs above what mattered.. I apologize for my part in that.” Wednesday admits, your hands gently wrapped around her waist, you looked at her.

“You, guys were seriously fighting over me?” You say, “fighting over a guy seems above you.” You say and Wednesday sighs.

“I suppose it is…” she admits, she lets go and looks into your eyes.

“I’ll apologize to Enid as well.” She admits, and you wipe your tears.

“..I’d like that.” You say, and as if on queue, the door opens to Enid who steps in to probably pick up her nail polish, she sees Wednesday and (Y/n), which makes her freeze a bit, and the jealousy begins to come to a boil.

“Enid, are you really fighting over me?” You ask her, and her rage quickly disperses to embarrassment.

“I-I mean.. well..”

“Seriously?” You say, “I was so worried that I pushed you two away from each other, than I made you so full of hate and anger.” You admit and Enids embarrassed went to sadness. She approaches sheepishly.

“We… Yeah You’re Right, we did do that and.. it wasn’t fair to you.” Enid says, seeing the wet, sad man sitting on the bed, so full of despair. It made her want to cry too but, her tears were worthless.

“Wednesday, Enid, can you two please just go back to being friends?” You ask, the two look at each other.

“Enid, I apologize for my actions, as (Y/n) said we shouldn’t let a man get inbetween our friendship.” She admits.

“Yeah, im sorry too… that was super uncool of me, and I shouldn’t hate you for wanting to be his valentine.” Enid admits, and you sigh with relief.

“You know, you both could have just asked together.” You say, they slowly turn to him.

“If it made you both happy I would have done it, you two mean the most to me, the least I could do was be your valentines.” You say and the two quickly take up his offer.

“Will you be our valentine?” They again in Unison, you were actually a bit taken aback by their quickness, you stand up and laugh a bit. “No shame Huh? I’d love to.” You say and hug them both, Enid quickly reciprocates the hug, and Wednesday slowly does as well, both girls content with the outcome, I suppose in this competition, everyone is a winner.

#netflix #male reader #reader insert #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wedensday x you #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x male reader #enid sinclair x reader #winclair x reader #winclair x male reader #winclair #wenclair x reader #wenclair x male reader #valentine #valentines day

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monster-disaster · 5 months ago

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[vampire] Eva

vampire!Eva x human!male!Reader Good to know: mention of smut, blood sucking

Summary: You wake up to your wife coming home after work.

A/N: We met Eva before here and here (I recommend reading these two if you are new to my blog, so you can understand Eva's story a bit better.). And you can read Reg's story on my Patreon.

It’s still dark when you wake up to the rumble of a car. The familiar sound ripples through the quiet street as it parks down in front of the house. The brightness of the headlights streams through the windows, casting a yellow hue over the matching furniture for several seconds. Shadows stretch across the room and quickly disappear as you turn onto your other side, blinking lazily at the dark wooden door. Your mind is foggy from sleep, but you still recognize the sound of the entrance opening and closing with a muffled thud, followed by high heels echoing loudly in the silent house as they clank rhythmically up the stairs. You glance at the clock on your nightstand with a yawn. It’s not even four yet. The sun is still behind the horizon, and the streetlamps are still on while you listen to your wife's movements outside, doing her usual routine.

The sound of the shower running on the other side of the wall almost lulls you back to sleep. You melt deeper into the bed as you close your eyes and let the steady stream of water become a soothing background noise until the bedroom door opens and the fresh, clean scent of your wife reaches your nose. Rose and honey with a hint of spice.

Her steps are soft on the plush carpet, and the mattress dips under her weight as she climbs onto the bed beside you. She gently brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, her touch light and tender. Her long nails graze over your temple.

When you open your eyes and smile at her, she reciprocates the gesture. She wears black lingerie that barely reaches the middle of her thighs with lacey details and thin straps over her shoulders.

"Hey," Eva whispers. "Did I wake you?"

You hum, letting her rest her head on your arm as you pull her closer against your body. She is soft and warm under your caressing fingertips as you draw slow circles on her shoulder blade, moving up on the delicate curve of her neck and raking through her still-wet hair. The dark brown locks curl around your fingers, and you play with them with half-closed eyes.

“It’s fine,” you tell her. “You know I don’t like sleeping without you.”

And it’s really unfortunate since Eva works at night, and you need your sleep to function in daylight like a normal human being.

“How was your day?” she asks, sneaking her arm around your middle while her leg slips between yours, and she clings to you with every delicious inch of her body.

“Boring,” you tell her. “The usual. And your night?”

You don’t even have to see her face to know she is smiling into the crook of your neck. “I went over to the antique shop to talk with Reg’s girlfriend.”

You groan.

“What? Me or Boss. I think I was the better option,” she reasons, amused.

“You both are like gossiping old ladies.”

Eva chuckles quietly but doesn’t argue. “I needed to know.”

“So you didn’t believe me?” you ask her. Your voice is still hoarse from sleeping.

“You and your gossip,” she says, and you can’t help but grin at her retort.

“Riel told me.”

The vampire woman in your arms laughs again. “As I said, you and your gossip.”

You can’t argue. Grimbrook is a small town, and people tend to care a bit too much about each other’s business, especially when it has anything to do with the pub on the main street.

“So?” you ask her after a few seconds, knowing well enough that you are a hypocrite. “What did you find out?”

Eva, not moving away from the warmth of your neck, hits your chest without any strength. Her red nails glint under the dim light of the streetlamp in front of the house, filtering through the windows.

“You were right,” she replies. “They plan to come on Friday.”

You huff, trying to suppress your laughter. “Told you so.”

Your words are followed by another swat you barely feel.

“It will be fun,” Eva grins, and you scoff, knowing her too well.

“I don’t think they are ready for you, my love,” you tell her, smoothing your palm over her upper arm. “Reg made it clear that she is off limits.”

“Yeah,” Eva sighs with a hint of disappointment. “His girl told me something similar.”

You can’t blame them, though. Their relationship is still new, and the demon’s possessiveness is understandable, while his girl has never been in the pub before. They are definitely not ready for Eva.

“I’m sure you will find someone else,” you tell her with amusement in your voice. “Give that poor girl some time.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not curious,” Eva hums. Her voice deepens with each word that fans over your neck. A shiver ripples through your spine when you feel her fangs grazing your skin where your pulse is.

“I could play with her in so many ways.” Her hand slips down from your chest to rest between your legs. “I bet she tastes good… in both ways.”

Feeling the tips of her fangs punches a ragged breath out of your lungs, but otherwise, your body stays in its tired, lazy state. Her delicate fingers curl around your dick through your pants, rubbing over the head with her thumb teasingly.

“Wouldn’t you—” Whatever she wants to say gets stuck in her throat when she notices the lack of your reaction.

“I’m sorry,” you break the silence with an uncomfortable strain in your voice. You can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks with embarrassment and shame.

Even though the image of your wife with another woman is always arousing, your body is too tired to get the memo your mind tries to send to it. The bed is too warm and too comfortable, and your muscles are sore from work. To be honest, you are too content holding Eva against yourself right now. No matter how much you want to get in the mood, your lower region doesn’t agree with you.

“Don’t,” your wife says, gliding her hand up your body until her small palm rests on your cheek. The soft pad of her thumb ghosts over the skin under your eye. “It happens.”

“I—”

“Don’t,” she cuts in with a bit more power in her voice. “We have been married too long to feel bad about things like this. It’s too early anyway, and you’re tired. I understand.”

Pulling her closer, you tilt your head to kiss her shoulder. “I love you.”

Eva grins. “I know. And because you love me, you should definitely surprise me with something sweet from the bakery.”

A lazy, knowing grin pulls at your lips as your eyes slowly fall shut. “Or I could offer something better.”

“You don’t want to wake up early, huh?”

You laugh but don’t deny it. If you have to go to the bakery, there is no reason for you to fall asleep.

“Fine,” she says. “Just because I love you.”

“You mean my taste.”

Eva hums. “That too.”

When morning comes barely a few hours later, you wake up still a bit sleepy and disoriented, with your wife plastered against your body. The room is filled with the soft light of dawn, casting a gentle glow over your lying forms on the bed. The faint chirping of birds outside filters through the closed windows, mixing with the noises of your awakening neighbors. Eva's cheek rests on your chest, and her arm is draped over your stomach. Her hair is a tangled mess, and her lips are slightly open as she sleeps. Her steady breathing matches the slow rhythm of your heartbeat, and, risking falling back asleep, you stay where you are, under the warm blankets with Eva in your arms. You gently run your fingers through her hair, careful not to wake her. The soft strands slip through your fingers like silk.

She fidgets a little, snuggling closer, and your hand freezes in her hair. "Good morning," she hums. Her voice is hoarse from sleep.

"Good morning," you reply, continuing to play with her brown locks.

"If you don't get up, you will be late," Eva warns you but does nothing to untangle herself from you, and you don't move either.

"Nobody cares," you tell her. Owning a car repair shop with your best friends has its perks. "Besides, I promised you something."

When Eva stops breathing for a second, a knowing half-smirk pulls on your lips. "So? What do you say? Or should I get up and go to work?" You tease her, and her arms tighten around your middle instantly. "Thought so," you laugh.

"Don't invite the vampire if you don't mean it," Eve hums, grinning.

In the calmness of your bedroom, bathed in the soft morning light, your heart flutters in your chest the same way it always does when you offer yourself to your wife. Her hand from your stomach slips up to your face. Her nails trace the line of your jaw as she tilts your head to the side, giving herself more access to your neck. Your pulse quickens from the small show of strength. It feels like the beat of your heart echoes off the walls and not just in your ribcage. Eva's presence shimmers in the cool morning air, sending shivers through your tensing body. You can do nothing with your reaction. Even though your mind knows that you are safe, your body still urges you to fight against the predator leaning above you, even if said predator smells like lotions and home.

A gasp bursts out of your closed mouth when her lips ghost over the spot under your ear, going down until she hovers above your pulse. Your chest heaves, and Eva giggles beside you. It's a low sound that pushes your nerves to the edge.

"Are you still afraid, husband?" She teases. Her hold on your jaw eases when you don't move. Her thumb rubs over your stubble in small circles.

Your throat tightens but it's not necessarily fear that keeps you from answering. There is a mix of feelings in the pit of your stomach, urging you to do something, yet keeping you frozen on the soft sheets of the bed.

A hiss follows your silence when Eva's lips part, and you feel the wet touch of her tongue on your skin. The anticipation from both of you is palpable in the air. Your exhale is ragged and heavy. She licks and nibbles the junction of your neck and shoulder. It's not enough to hurt, but still reminds you of her sharp fangs you felt on and in yourself so many times through the years of your relationship with the petite vampire woman.

As she sinks her teeth into your flesh, there is a brief sting that surges through your body. Your fingers curl into fists, and a throaty moan escapes your lips. Every sucking motion of her lips and lick of her tongue sends you spiraling into pain and pleasure. Your heart slows down a little, and the rapid beat in your chest picks up the rhythm of the pull of your wife's soft lips on your neck. You can feel your muscles relax and you melt against the bed even more while Eva drinks with pleased sighs and moans. The sound of her voice ripples through your spine, going straight between your legs with an aching throb. Her body against yours is pliant and warm.

The intimate moment between you and the vampire doesn't last long. Eva has to make sure you won't spend your whole day in bed just because she couldn't stop herself in time. Slowly, she withdraws her fangs but still stays close to lick the small wounds several times. Your body tingles with every small, delicate touch of her tongue and brush of her lips.

When she is done and you can turn your head to look at her, you can't help but be in awe at the sight in front of you. Her dark hair is a curly mess, framing her delicate features and the light blush spreading across her cheeks. Her eyes gleam with a new shine, and her lips are deep red even without her usual lipstick.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, brushing your hair out of your forehead.

"'m good," you hum, still a bit dizzy.

"Yeah," she grins, running her eyes down on your body. "I see that."

Following her gaze, you notice the bulge between your legs, the same time the pleasure throbbing in your body gets more demanding for your attention, and a smile pulls on your lips, similar to your wife's. Bracing yourself on one of your elbows, you reach for Eva with your other hand. Your fingertips barely brush over her arm when she pulls away.

"You will be late," she says, enjoying herself a bit too much at your expense. "Come home early," she hums, letting her gaze linger on your sweatpants-covered erection. "And I will see what I can do about it."

You groan, sitting up to grab her by the back of her neck. Her laugh vibrates on your lips as you press a searing, playful kiss on her mouth.

"Minx," you grunt.

You listen to her laughing even when you leave the bedroom to take a quick shower.

A cold one.

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #teratophillia #monster girlfriend #vampire x reader #vampire x human #vampire girlfriend #male!reader #monster lover #grimbrook

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dariaslookalike · 9 months ago

Text

Needing Miller pt 2.

Summary: It's a shit hole of a world that you're living in, and it gets even shittier when you're ambushed in your sleep. It's a slippery slope that leads you from being tucked cozily in your sleeping bag to joining the raiding group lead by the most infuriating (and intimidating) man you've ever met. You need to survive, above all else- either in this group (without smacking its leader over the head), or in the world alone after somehow escaping. Easier said than done, when your mind loses all sense of focus, tactics and skills the second that Joel Miller rolls up his sleeves and shows his godforsaken forearms.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: thought i should note while this is joel as a raider it is *not* dark joel- he is not going to be anything dubious to our protagonist- at the end of the day that is my sweet husband joel miller, not someone who is going to swing on a woman in the name of romance.

also more often than not i'll be updating this first on AO3 because i am like bugging out about tumblr formatting [desperately trying to make a masterlist]

Next Chapter: Pt 3

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You don’t sleep for long. It’s hard to. The pain that’s shooting from your cheek and the tension held in your body means that after a few pitiful hours, you jolt awake. The only thing you can be thankful for is that you’re so exhausted, no dreams visit you.

Night has completely fallen onto the mall now, and everything is cast in harsh shadows from the fire still burning off to the side. Soft hues of orange and yellow light up the pale floor, and the shadows are darker, deeper, than if they were made just by the moonlight above.

You force your breathing to still even as the memories of the day flood back in. Where you were. What happened to you.

You twist in your sleeping bag, and Ryan glances down at you, still sitting on the edge of the fountain. You stare at him for a second before you clear your throat. You sit up, the material around you swishing.

“Thanks for staying. And stitching me up.”

“It’s fine.” Ryan nods. “Only a few hours- I can stay longer if you want to go back to sleep.”

“No. I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

His eyes flick to yours, but he doesn’t question you. He just nods again, and pushes to his feet, and begins walking over to sit by the fire.

You nod to yourself. He was good at stitching you up. To stay true to his word and watch over you. But the both of you clearly aren’t interested in being friends. He knows you’re only here because Joel let you be here. You know he was only tending to you because Joel made him. An odd, forced arrangement that you weren’t going to push any further. Right now you wanted to focus on staying alive in this group, not making friendship bracelets.

You settle against the fountain, still sitting in your sleeping bag. You can see everyone from here. While it’s later than before, only one person remains sleeping, and the rest circle around the fire. A nocturnal bunch. It makes sense. Sure, the light of day gives you the benefit of sight, but now, when the moon’s high up and everything is washed in darkness, it gives them coverage, security.

Your hand reaches up, and edges across the thick gauze pad taped to your face. It’s wet on the outside, and you know you’ll have to change the dressing soon if you’re able to. Your cheek is blooming with heat. You remembered it when you grazed your knee as a kid. Warm throbbing pain that was your body’s way of trying to kill any infection. Right now it feels like your body is trying to melt away your face. The skin beneath feels sharply prodded and stretched by the stitches, but you tell yourself that’s good. Better to feel that pain and hurt and heat than be the one with their head blown off.

Your hand drops from your face.

Terry. That was his name. Carving your own knife into your face. His head splattered across the floor. Your shoe crunching into his ribs with a kick.

You don’t know his dead friend's name and you won’t ask for it either. But in your mind, you still see the drop of his body to the floor, the slow, self-assured lowering of Joel’s gun as he tucks it back into his waistband. Two bullets. Two men. You’re only making up for one of them, and you wonder if he thinks you’re even more indebted to him now.

You clench your jaw. No. Joel was going to let you go- your hand wasn’t forced in joining this raiding group. You weren’t repaying a debt. You were trying to save your hide from raiders who wouldn’t just cut you, but carve you up and play with the pieces.

But Joel did you a favour. Spilled the blood of two of his men as a result of you. Took you in when he could have shot you for your limited supplies or left you to become septic.

And…you didn’t have any place better to be. You had run from the QZ; from the loss. The despair. The control. Everything that had happened, you had to get away from it. Head East. That was all you were doing.

It was a crack pipe dream thinking that you’d just keep heading East. Reach the coast. Swim abroad against the current and the tides and the waves and find a place on a continent you had never visited.

But something in your gut knew you were never going to make it to the coast; knew you weren’t truly following that day dream. Knew that you were going to get bit. Or caught. Or hell, step wrong, twist your ankle, and starve to death because you couldn’t walk the rest of the way.

You could make this work. Like Joel said, you’d do what he tells you to and you’d live. That was all you needed to do right now. Live.

You nod to yourself and get acutely aware that you aren’t alone anymore; that you couldn’t mutter to yourself without someone hearing now or hum under your breath if you got bored. You focus, and let your eyes trail to the campside. There’s two more people in the group than you counted before.

You focus on their forms. You see Ryan; the dirty blonde of his hair, your blood on the cuff of his jacket. He bumps his shoulder into the man sitting beside him, and they laugh about something you don’t hear. You don’t know the name of anyone else but spend time taking in their faces; rooting it to memory. All men. You’re not sure what that means for the group. Did they think they had no use for women outside of abuse and simply discarded them before you had shown up? Or were they just close knit, unwilling to let anyone into their protective circle? Neither option filled you with confidence.

Your gaze catches on Joel. He’s here now; you wonder where he walked off to, though you know you’re not entitled to ask. He’s facing the fire, and you’re able to take in his side profile. The sharp slope of his nose. The intense heaviness of his brow. The tightness to his lips, his jaw, his temple; as if even here, sitting at a fire with the group he commanded around him, he wasn’t at ease.

Your eyes sweep up and down him. He’s got a heavy, tanned jacket on, even that close to the flames. A pair of dirtied jeans. They hug his legs, and you think about him, wrapping himself around you just to stop your rabid attack. The thought swirls in your stomach, and becomes a flurry when you take in the slouch of his shoulders, the firelight catching on his hands that are clutched together in front of him.

He was handsome, and you feel nausea rise at the thought. When was anyone ever handsome to you? He was older than you, more brutal than you, more experienced than you. He should revolt and disgust you. Your logical reasoning does absolutely nothing to convince the pounding in your bloodstream to calm. You swallow. You have to forcibly drag your gaze away from him, force yourself to settle onto the new figure beside him.

But the man beside him is grinning, and already staring at you. You flush, realising you’ve been caught looking at Joel for what felt like hours. The man ducks his head closer to Joel, chuckling and saying something too quiet for you to hear. Joel doesn’t laugh, and instead his head spins, and he looks directly at you.

You sink further into your sleeping bag, and instantly look away, training your eyes onto the entrance of the mall, the slope of the walls, anything but him.

You flick your eyes back momentarily, wanting confirmation that you weren’t still being eyed. Instead, you catch the man beside Joel patting his shoulder and pushing himself to his feet. You stare at him, and shake your head slightly; praying to yourself that this wasn’t happening.

The man smiles, and he leaves the fireside, walking over to you. Joel’s staring at him, that notch in his brow again, before he scoffs and faces the fire again. You force yourself to look at this man, take him in; don’t cower or slink back; face him head on.

He’s got dark, black hair that’s curling below his ears, and the same carved nose of Joel. He’s wearing some kind of flannel and jeans, and he brushes his hands off on them as he comes closer, and sits down beside you.

You back yourself up, sliding against the fountain edge to put some distance between you but you still keep your eyes trained on him. Distance, not retreat. The man notices, but he simply smiles and sticks out his hand. You don’t shake it, and he laughs, withdrawing.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

You nod, and whisper your name back to him. His lips curl into a smirk. He’s got the same confidence as Joel. But Joel was domineering, commanding, authoritative. Tommy just came across as cocky. He taps his own cheek, eyebrows raised. You’re reminded of how Joel did the same thing, warning you that you’d bleed out if you left.

“What happened there?”

“Take a guess.” You bite.

He shrugs, unfazed by the harsh tone of your voice and huffs out a breath. “I was the one who cleaned out Terry.”

You feel anger burn white hot in your chest at the thought of him. His entitlement to you, his assault to your face. You swallow the anger down, aware that you were still being watched. You think of the body dragged out only metres away from you. You weren’t aware that Joel had directed the same to be done with Terry. It makes sense. You don’t want to attract rats, or other raiders who got it in their mind that the nearby group was smaller, weaker. Or something more vile than a rat, sniffing out after the death and decay in hopes to spread it’s virus.

Tommy’s gaze finds yours, and he studies you, as if trying to take you apart and sort through what the pieces meant.

“I know his ugly face was ‘cause of Joel- no one else that headstrong to put a bullet between his eyes. But he had a nasty shoulder. Skin clawed off his wrist.”

“What, were you friends with him?”

You resisted the urge to pick under your nails, to clean out anything left of Terry. There’s a beat of silence, and then Tommy’s lips spread out in a wolfish grin.

“No. Was gonna put a bullet in ‘im myself if Joel didn’t. Just wanted to say that I’m glad he suffered before. Especially if he cut up your pretty face.”

You nod, and turn your head away; half to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks and half to hide Terry’s assault. Tommy tilts his head to follow you, maintaining your gaze.

He smiles, eyes scanning over you. “Don’t worry- I dig chicks with scars.”

You laugh and it’s so unexpected that even you blink in surprise. You compose yourself, but Tommy’s smile is just wider, accomplished.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what my life goal is, for raiders to think I’m hot.”

Tommy’s jaw twinges at the word ‘raiders’, but he just shrugs. “Well, congrats then- mission accomplished.”

You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head. You flick your eyes back to him and allow yourself to examine him closer. His hair is combed back, and he’s has a slight stubble to him. As if he was a man who preferred to be clean shaven, but had been without a razor for a bit too long; a contrast to his brother. Smooth skin, cheekbones that drag your eyes down to his lips. He’s older than you but you struggle to pinpoint by how much.

He smiles as if it’s the easiest thing in the world; as if you were both just at some bar, chatting with each other, and the world hadn’t ended; as if you hadn’t done things you weren’t proud of and he hadn’t probably done worse.

“Seems ya to like to stare at Miller men.” He says, teasing.

He has the same Southern drawl, but his voice is higher, not as weighted. You blush and turn away but he waves his hands in defense.

“‘It’s not embarrassin’. I get it- I’d stare at him too to take in my handiwork.” He waggles his thick eyebrows. “Or were you starin’ at him for some other reason?”

You scoff, and turn back to him; glaring as the anger in your chest rears its head back up. “Handiwork?”

He smirks, nodding. “Yeah. Saw the scratches on Joel’s neck.”

He reaches up, gesturing his hands clawing down his neck. “Just a shame you didn’t give him a black eye too- would’ve paid money to see it.”

You should feel embarrassed, or wary to be discussing your earlier grapple with Joel’s brother. But instead your lips tug up. You look at Tommy from the corner of your eye.

“I kicked him in the balls. If that’s worth anything.”

His eyes blow wide and his mouth drops open a bit until he laughs, tipping his head back. “God. No wonder he was so moody when he came and got me.”

He chuckles to himself before he looks back at you. “That’s good. If you can kick him in the nuts and get away with it, you’ll make it here. No doubts.”

You nod, not sure how to respond. Did you want to make it here, wherever here was?

The conversation flows on. Tommy gives you the names of everyone, pointing them out around the fire. You’re able to laugh with him, and offer a little bit to the conversation.

You’re not sure where you stand with this man. How truly trustworthy he is beneath his charming facade. But Ryan’s antiseptic and skills were something you’d need to keep close by before you were fully healed up. Until the wound on your face became a scar, you couldn’t leave.

So, when he asks about where you came from, what you’re doing all the way out here, you feed him little pieces of information- not enough for him to gather the full story, but enough that he leans in closer; as if deciding to trust, or at least entertain, you too.

You don’t register that Joel’s walked over to you until Tommy’s gaze flicks upwards, and you follow.

Joel’s glaring down at his brother, and Tommy’s easy smile slips off his face; replaced with a hard carve of his lips and tense hunch of his brow. The charming man fades away, and in his place is a hardened, now seemingly older man. A raider- not a man you met at a bar that didn’t exist anymore.

There seems to be unspoken words between the two, communicated in the flare of Joel’s nostrils, the square of his shoulders, the clench of his fists. You simply watch the exchange, enraptured and feeling like you’re intruding. Finally, Tommy sighs, and his gaze slides to you, a bashful smile put back in place.

“Nice meeting ya, Dollface.”

You laugh, and when he offers you his hand again, you reach out, shaking it. He lingers, holding onto you, and you’re stuck staring into the dark of his eyes; you can see the firelight flickering in them.

Joel clears his throat, and Tommy rolls his eyes, shooting you a smirk as if to say Can you believe this guy? But he pulls back, pushing himself to his feet. He raises to his full height, and stares at Joel- more unspoken conversation, and now it’s Tommy talking in the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head, the twinge in his temple. The tension snaps and dissipates when he simply shakes his head, brushing past Joel and returning to sit by the fire.

Joel scoffs at him, and shakes his head. He doesn’t look at you as he sits down, taking Tommy’s seat beside you.

“What was that?”

His jaw clenches, and he keeps looking across to the fire. “Nothin’.”

“Yeah, sure seemed like nothing.”

Joel’s tongue darts out to lick across his lip and he shakes his head slightly. “None of your business.”

You force yourself to exhale through your nose, to not slap him across the face. “Sure- but I was having a nice conversation with him. Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of that to go around here amidst all the shooting.”

He scoffs, and finally turns to you fully. His face is half cast in light from the fire, and the thought catches in your throat that Tommy was only sitting here a minute ago and didn’t look half as handsome as the man in front of you.

Joel glares at you, the notch in his brow deeper. “Those two needed to go- not gonna have some fuckin’ punks walking around like they make the rules.”

His eye dips down to the bandage on your cheek and you wonder if he sees the knife stabbed into it as much as you still feel it. He drags his gaze back to yours, hissing. “And Tommy only wants to get in your pants. Nothin’ nice about the conversation.”

Your eyes widen and you scoff, words slipping out before you can stop them. “Bite me.”

He scowls, lip tugging down. “Real creative.”

“What?” You demand, leaning forward, fire licking up inside you. “Am I supposed to sit here and think of a fucking essay when you tell me all your brother wants to do is fuck me?”

Joel’s brow furrows, and he clicks his teeth. “Watch it.”

You huff but you’re left with a moment of tension, and it leaves you with flashes of images- Terry’s head splattered across the floor. Your wrist nearly broken by Joel’s hand. His gun glinting at his waist.

But you also see the obedient turn of heads. Tommy’s annoyance yet subordination.

You’re angry. Angry that you were so exhausted you had to sleep. Angry that you weren’t prepared more in that fucking shop. Angry that you got caught. Angry that you got stabbed. Angry that you’re stuck with this group when you were doing just fine on your own before you met them. Angry that the man beside you is talking to you like you’re a child. You yield to the fire inside you and scoff.

“Fuck off Joel.”

His eyes widen and it’s the same minuscule, near-unnoticeable change that reveals his shock. But he just clenches his jaw, showing more restraint than you had. “Sure got some gall.”

You run your tongue along your teeth, and his eyes track the movement. “I ‘had some fight’, right? Thought that’s why I’m here.”

His eyes stay trained on you, and his gaze is heavy, stern. “Just ‘cause you can run your mouth doesn’t mean jack.”

Your eyes dip to his neck, and you see what Tommy was talking about. Where you had scratched him earlier, there is jagged lines down the smooth column of his neck, some speckled with blood. Your eyes flick back to his.

“Yeah?”

His nostrils flare and it’s the only indication that he knows exactly what you were looking at. He snarls, and leans even closer.

“Tomorrow we’re on the move. You slip up, you fuck up, you don’t have any of that ‘fight’ in ya, and you’re done for.”

You clench your jaw but you don’t flinch back, instead holding his gaze. “Sir, yes, sir.”

He scoffs and is the first to lean back, shaking his head. “You’re gonna learn some respect.” He pins you with a glare. “Don’t ever mouth off like that in front of anyone- or you’re gonna wish I left you for dead with that knife in your face.”

You swallow, and your cheek burns in pain and shame. You clench your hand.. Force yourself to feel the strain of your bones where he had nearly crushed them and the nails digging into your palm instead of reaching across and slapping him as hard as you could.

You could see the imaginary line you had to toe. Not subordinate enough for him to step on you and treat you like shit. Not insubordinate enough for him to put a bullet between your eyes. Tell him to fuck off when you needed to. Bow your head when he told you to.

So you just nod, and turn from him, leaning back against the fountain. You had clearly pushed enough of his buttons tonight, and you weren’t ready to push anymore. Yet.

He huffs beside you, and turns away, facing back to the group.

Finally, after what feels like tortuous hours of uncomfortable silence, he clears his throat. “You ever used a gun?”

You look at him from the corner of your eye but don’t turn to him. “What?”

He scoffs beside you, as if repeating himself is his own personal hell. “Have you ever used a gun?”

You swallow, and your hand slides in your sleeping bag, thumbing over the hilt of your knife. “Yeah. Got taught in FEDRA’s school.”

He turns his head at that, maybe just realising that you didn’t simply spawn into existence in this mall. That you had a life. A school. Maybe friends. A family. That you had gotten out, gotten this far by yourself.

He tuts. “‘T’s not gonna do you shit then. I’ll teach you tomorrow as we go.”

You swallow, tilting your head slightly to look at him. “Tommy can do that. Or Ryan.”

“Already sick of me, Newbie?”

You don’t say anything, and he leans in closer, eyes narrowing.

“I brought you in. ‘M responsible for you.”

You turn back to him fully, eyebrows raised. “You said I was free to go. I joined. I’m not some sick puppy you dragged in to fix up.”

His tongue runs along his teeth beneath his lips. “Whether you like it or not, it’s cause of me that you’re here and not bleeding out in some fuckin’ shop.”

You resist the urge to bite your ruined cheek. He’s right. You know it. You can feel the debt you owe to him thrumming between the two of you.

“So, what? You teach, and then I can stay out of your way?”

“Sure,” He snaps, eyes dark. “You learn to shoot a gun properly, and I won’t have to talk to you again.”

You clench your jaw. “Great.”

“What’s wrong, Dollface?” He hisses the name. “You should be jumping for joy.”

“What’s your issue?” You snap, reeling on him. “You take me in, get my face fixed up and now you’re pushing me for a fucking fight. What is it? Seeing how long it takes for me to snap, how long until you can put a bullet between my eyes too?”

He huffs, and shakes his head, fury evident in the clench of his jaw. “‘M not testing you.”

“So what is it?” You push, glowering. “Can’t stand the thought of your brother getting some ‘cause I told you I’d bite your dick off?”

His eyes flick towards you, and he scoffs. “No. Just don’t get why you’re buddying up to him. You’ve gotta learn something.” He hisses. “Anyone who’s made it this far, who’s survived, didn’t do so cause they were fuckin’ nice.”

You glare at him. “You don’t think I learned my lesson from Terry? From your crew?”

You jut out your chin, and his eyes snag on the bandage across your face. You know what he’s thinking- that you’re never going to be able to forget that lesson. Something like pity flashes through his eyes for a second before you see him chew his cheek for a second, as if physically biting back his response. He takes a deep breath, and then another, before he looks back at you.

“Don’t get it twisted,” He says, eyes dark and foreboding. “Terry wasn’t good. But a Miller,” He huffs, "is a different kind of bad. Stay away from Tommy.”

You swallow, and almost want to laugh at the dramatism; but something in his words is ragged, raw. True.

You clench your jaw, levelling your gaze with him. “And what about you? You said you’re responsible for me now. Miller.”

His lips tilt down but he shrugs, nonchalantly. You scoff.

“So what? Tommy’s some big bad wolf I should steer clear from, but you’re my guardian angel?”

He mirrors you, scoffing and crossing his hands across his chest. You hate the stupid flex of his forearms and the way your eye catches on the shadow. “Nowhere near that. But I’m not gonna let you jeopardise my crew until you can prove you can handle your own.”

“You brought me in.” You hiss, throwing his own words in his face.

“Exactly,” He snarls, lip curling. “I brought you in and if you fuck up, it’s on me.”

Your pulse is thrumming in your ears. “So you teach me to not fuck up- And then you won’t have to talk to me again. That’s our deal right? I do as I’m told and I get to stay. Nothing more, nothing less.” You say, repeating his words from earlier again.

His jaw flexes, but he nods.

“Can’t wait.” You hiss, turning away from him

He doesn’t leave. You can feel him practically thrumming with annoyance and anger at how petty and childish you were- but he doesn’t leave.

You’re his responsibility now, hisses the small voice in your head. You want to tell it to shut up. To understand that you could have left, still could if you wanted to; but you chose to be here, because otherwise you would have died two streets away with a raider robbing your boots off your cold feet. Hell, you might have made it a week before the dirt and rubble and spores sunk into your wound and you died a feverish death.

But you don’t. Because you know that you owe Joel- owe him for the bullet in Terry, the bullet in his other insubordinate, the stitches in your face; the protection and food and shelter you’d get now in this desolate waste land of a city. That was the deal. He provides you with the mockery of a good life in this wasteland, and you do as you’re told.

And you know that Joel is responsible for you. Killing two of his own men, even if it was for disobeying his rules, because of you was a threat to his domineering authority. You, your actions, your slip ups, your fuck ups, would all be a reflection on him.

He was responsible for you and you owed him. Two truths that coexisted in this twisted partnership you had found yourself in.

So you don’t tell him to fuck off again and to go back to the fire. Instead, you lay on your side, back still against the fountain, and tug up your sleeping bag to your chin. Your head is closest to Joel; enough that if you tilted your eyes up, you’d be able to see the underside of his jaw, his cheekbones, the messy top of hair. Right now your gaze could only find the solidness of his thighs.

You think of the quick draw of his gun, his unflinching gaze as he blew someone’s head off for the second time that day. You wonder if he meant it- if he was a different, but wholly worse evil than Terry.

You don’t think you want to find out.

He can watch your back tonight, teach you about guns tomorrow, and the day after, you would make sure you keep as much distance between the two of you as possible.

The pain is still throbbing, but it’s becoming an accepted, familiar sensation in your body. It dulls in the background of sleep.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfic #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #raider!joel #raider!joel x reader #dariaslookalike fic

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ramcharantitties · 6 months ago

Text

Rangrez

Chapter 5: Police Police

"Huzoor, there is a police officer to meet you"

Phatto didn't raise her head to see, she didn't wish to meet Waheeda's fate. Mallika's eyes trailed to Zulfikar. Didn't they finally buried the case? Zulfikar sits up and nods at the younger woman, who makes her way to see the officer.

"We've got a phone call from Delhi, asking about Kainat. Do you want us to tell them the truth?"

Delhi? Mallika wasn't expecting Kainat to be there of all places. She thought hard about it. Kainat's nawab did come back, asking where she is. But Mallika was able to manipulate and send them back saying that the girl is theirs now, doesn't matter what she does. Kainat managed to escape from this hellhole, and as much as Mallika hated her, she didn't want Kainat to come back to Heeramandi. Also because Mallika didn't want Kainat to probe the Rehana's death scene. Mallika knew Fareedan and Kainat were close.

"No, she's happy where she is. She has no relations with Heeramandi whatsoever"

Waheeda stayed rooted to her spot, salty tears burning the newly made wound on her cheek. It should have been her.

"Police?" Akhtar was amused.

"You never know, what if she is only faking and using you?"

"You need to start believing people"

"Akhtar, do you really think I was going to trust just anyone?"

"She's just a young girl who escaped from her toxic family. What if they found she's here and will take her back?"

When the dinner was being served, Kainat saw Ram and Akhtar in a deep conversation, as of Ram broke their sacred knot. Not wanting to interrupt, Kainat waited until the dinner was served. As Ram and Akhtar made their way to the dining area, Kainat pulled Akhtar in a corner, showing a bracelet to him.

"What is this?"

Kainat places the yellow band, adorned with orange and red designs in Akhtar's palm. A doe eyes Akhtar showed plain confusion on his face. Kainat giggled, showing a matching band on her wrist too. "I got us matching bands as a token of appreciation. Akhtar bhaiya, if I wouldn't have met you that day, I'd probably be dead by now" Kainat's words melted Akhtar like ghee on flame. He cupped her cheek, taking the band from her.

A call from Ammi broke Akhtar and Kainat from their intimacy, hurrying them for dinner. Everyone sat down, passing and serving dishes.

"I am thinking of starting a dance class to earn money." Kainat announced, earning voices of appreciation. "Do you know how to dance?" It was only Ram, with a question hooked like fish on his tongue. "I do, in fact, my sisters has taught me ever since I was a child" Kainat amused. The same anxiety came back in her gut when thinking about Rehana.

"She's such a nice girl, so cultured and educated, such sincere. And you were calling Lahore, asking the polic-" a tight grip on Akhtar's bicep stopped him from saying further. A pin drop silence casted on familiar faces, staring at the young men. "Police?" Kainat's words fainted.

"Uh, well we had to confirm if-"

"I'm lying or not?" Kainat's tone was justified. "I wouldn't have mind if you did this weeks ago when we met, Mr. Ramaraju. But now? What's the point of it?" Ram sighed. "And you knew?" Kainat turned to Akhtar now. "I just got to know, I asked the same thing" Akhtar's voice faulted- whom to choose? His Anna or sister? Ram gave him a side eye for not defending him, but Akhtar wasn't entirely to blame. "We were just cautious since there are so many revolutionaries and-"

"Fine, go on. But Lahore? You called Lahore? What if my family finds out and comes back?" Akhtar's head whipped at Ram at super speed. Ram gaped and didn't say anything. Kainat didn't want to ruin everyone's dinner. She stood up from her seat, followed by Akhtar, who whispered a faint "I told you so". Before leaving, she turned around one last time, tears welling in her eyes. "Even if I was a delinquent, what if I wanted to change my whole life and that's why I came here? Would you have let me live with my new found family if you found I have an ill past?"

Ram stayed rooted on his seat, silent like soil. Meanwhile, Akhtar's parents exchanged looks. Police? Ram should have at least talked to someone first before doing this. Kainat stormed off that night, not eating her dinner.

The next morning, Ram visits the police station again, searching for his answer. He has seen various kind of criminals- stubborn, rude, kind and even innocent. And some manipulative. Ram believed Kainat was one of those, who has wrapped her amarbel around Akhtar's family so she could flourish. No matter how many emotional dramas she does, Ram was set to find the truth.

Ram stepped in the police station, making his way to the same constable. Upon seeing Ram's face, the constable pulled out a sheet of paper- that concluded the talk he had with Lahore police. Ram's eyes skimmed over the conversation, and for some reason, his face fell. Did he want her to have a bad past?

"They said that she has no criminal record, and is not related to Heeramandi either". Ram's eyebrows furrowed at the last statement. "Not related to Heeramandi?" He asked, giving the sheet back to the constable. The old constable nodded. "Heeramandi is a bazaar where tawaifs live, it's pretty well known. Seems like the woman you're after, she's a clean chit." Ram nodded, and left the police station. He has some mending to do.

Ram met Akhtar after leaving the police station. He told Akhtar about it, only to receive silent glares from him. "Go and apologize to her" Akhtar said, skipping a stone in the lake. "I didn't do anything wrong" Ram skipped another stone. It drowned on the second skip. "She didn't say it was wrong to do her background check. She said you didn't trust her for so long. And that you called Lahore" Akhtar skipped another stone. 5 skips. Ram held the flat stone in his hand, and looked up at Akhtar.

_____________________________________

Tagging: @ramayantika @vijayasena @jkdaddy01 @yehsahihai @lilliebeingdelulu @definitelyhim @starlight-1010 @panikk-attackkk @multifandom-boss-bitch @jeniniie

#ghungru #ram charan #rrr #rrr movie #desi tag #fanfic #ram x reader #rambheem #heeramandi #rangrez

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mamawasatesttube · 2 years ago

Note

for the prompt thing: "i'm better now that you're here"

alternatively, "i'm not going anywhere", whether that's angst or fluff is up to you

Unlatching Tim's skylight locks with a flick of TTK is as easy as breathing. Kon slips into his apartment like he's done a thousand times before, hovering near the ceiling for a moment to take in the glorious sight below him.

Tim's holding a PlayStation controller and glaring at the TV. He has his bad leg propped up on the coffee table, an ice pack on his swollen ankle; he's wearing one of Kon's old, faded Smallville Daylily Enthusiast Club T-shirts and a pair of atrociously purple gym shorts that can only have been a gift from Steph, and his bangs are pinned back to the top of his head with a big, sparkly Wonder Woman barrette. His grumpy scowl and puffed out cheeks only add to the spectacle.

What a fucking mess. Kon is so in love with this man it hurts.

Grinning like the besotted fool he is, he swoops down from above, sets the tote bag full of homemade baked goods on the table, and plops down next to Tim. "Hi, sunshine. How's my poor flightless bird doing?"

Tim flops into his side. Kon wraps an arm around him and coos sympathetically, and Tim sighs. "Better now that you're here. ...As long as you did bring Ma's apple pie like you promised."

"I did bring you Ma's apple pie," Kon assures him. "And chocolate croissants, and blueberry muffins, and almond twists. We went all out on the baking to support you in recovery from your horrible injury, and now I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, so you have both good food and good company."

Tim's lips twitch, and he gives Kon a long, contemplative look, one that Kon can easily read as him not knowing whether to be pleased about the sweets or grumpy about the teasing.

Well, Kon can help him make up his mind real easy-like. He gives Tim a fond squeeze, smushes a kiss to his temple, and grins.

"I still can't believe that despite being a superhero every single night, you managed to fuck up your ankle doing skateboard tricks. You're a fuckin' riot, man!"

Yup. Tim's face goes flat, and he huffs (although in both entertaining and endearing news, he doesn't stop snuggling into Kon's side). "Shut up, asshole. Dick and Cass have been making fun of me in the group chat all day. I don't need this from you, too."

"Awww." Kon kisses his hair. Tim leans more heavily into him, and he has to fight not to melt completely into a puddle of fond laughter. "Okay, okay. Sorry, Tony Hawk. I know this must be hard on you."

"One more skateboard joke and I'm divorcing you," Tim warns.

"We aren't even married yet." Kon squeezes him affectionately. "You'll have to marry me first."

Tim heaves a very put-upon sigh, glancing up at Kon through his eyelashes. Then he casts a meaningful look at the tote bag and hums. "Hm... keep that up, and I might just."

Grinning harder, Kon lays his cheek against Tim's hair. "Well, sunshine," he says, "if you ask me, I think we've got a deal."

♥ angst/fluff prompts ♥

#its important to me that they are silly together #timkon #tim #kon #argentoau #rimi writes

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koneko-pi · 2 years ago

Note

Fuegoleon with a busty wife s/o ? Like she's REALLY beautiful with long hair and soft skin and garners stares from people no matter where she goes. Does he get jealous ( not because he distrusts his s/o but because of other men staring)? What's his favourite part on his s/o and just everything and anything you can think of

Sfw and nsfw headcannons if you're comfortable with it

AAHH my very first one! While I don't advertise doing these headcannons and fanfics I do enjoy writing immensly! So I hope I did not disappoint UuU

Female S/O x Fuegoleon

Innocent and Nsfw headcannons (be warned)

A simple 500+ word count

She was beauty, she was grace, and he wanted to always hold her in his embrace.

But he knew he couldn't hold onto you all the time as you had your own duties to attend to. Even if he was slightly bothered by the fact. Fuegoleon will always declare he was the luckiest man in the world to marry such a kind hearted woman, but he couldn't deny that you were gorgeous from any angle. At any time of day or state of dress you were perfection.

It was almost hard to keep his eyes off of you most days. God forbid you visit him at work. The way your hips would sway or chest would bounce if you got worked up enough. He would become weak, he loved to watch.

He was a man who enjoyed talking about his wife and even others would talk about his wife, because you truly were a catch. Your skin is always flawless, hair always impossibly in perfect condition. Your figure, other women would die for. Your smile could melt any man's heart in an instant, it's how you won him over, after all. You would collect stare after stare in both the Squad base and on the street and while he prided himself knowing that you were his, there was a tinge of jealousy that would always come out when men would dare to gaze at you with something more than admiration.

He could always fix that though when he was around. To put an arm around your waist to hold you a little closer. Or come and plant a gentle kiss to your head or cheek. Making sure anyone staring knew you were his. He would hide away any emotions such as jealousy or irritation, because he trusted you, but such things could always come out in the bedroom…

–nsfw–

Where he could truly remind himself that you are all for him and no matter how many stares strangers cast your way, only he got to be this intimate with you. Your bare body was for his eyes only.

He loves to glide his hands across your skin. To leave kisses from head to toe. He loved it when you waited for him, so he could crawl towards you across the bed, trail a kiss from your ankle to the inside of your knees, up your thighs but not too close to between your legs… not yet.

He'd kiss up your stomach while dragging warm hands across your lovely skin, squeezing your thighs slightly as he reached your bountiful chest. He'd enjoy all the noises that would slip past perfect lips, before he kissed you himself while pressing his body against yours.

He enjoyed it when you drug your nails down his back as he treated you right. Gently massaging your chest while his hips work in slow agonizing motions. The sweet mewls and moans that escaped you as he pinched, pulled, and teased your breasts were music to his ears.

Some nights he enjoyed flipping you over so you were on top. So his hands could grip your thighs as you move over him, so he could watch you bounce. Guiding your hips with his hands and occasionally bucking up into you, to really get your chest going. It was mesmerizing to watch your perfect body move and writhe for him. Such a perfect woman, all for him.

Thank you so much for the ask! I really wouldn't mind doing more! Im more well versed in Fuegoleon, Yami, or Nozel, but i can do my best with any Black Clover character, so please, anyone, feel free to send another ask for headcannons or short fics!

Sorry for any typos!

#Fuegoleon x reader #blackclover headcannons #black clover fanfic #Fuegoleon Vermillion #x reader #reader insert #fuegoleon x y/n #black clover fluff #black clover x reader

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guilty-pleasures21 · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 4 - the picnic

Part A

Part B

Part C

Warnings: none.

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

She wandered down the street, huddled in the rattiest cloak she could find. This was such a bad idea: she’d known it the entire time she’d been digging through her cupboards for the cloak, the entire time she’d waited until everyone had returned home for their afternoon nap, the entire time she’d snuck down the alleyways behind the slowly deteriorating neighbourhoods as she headed towards her goal. And yet, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from continuing with her plan. She glanced around furtively, her senses on high alert in the dangerous-looking area she’d managed to find her way back to. But she still failed to notice the man standing in front of her until she bumped right into him. Gwen gasped and jumped back on alarm, clutching her cloak tight around her as if it would offer her some form of protection.

“Hello, young miss. Might you be in need of some help?”

Her heart slowed its rapid pace when she found the familiar friendly features of the man she had met the day before. Miles raised an eyebrow at her terrified expression and Gwen's stomach tightened at the knowing smirk on his face.

“Um, yes, actually … I … I seem to have misplaced my … my mother’s bracelet during my last trip here,” she explained. “I … It means a lot to me.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with desperation and sorrow, and Miles felt himself melt at the sight - against his better judgement. He shouldn’t help her - shouldn’t try to keep her there for any longer than she’d already been. It was too dangerous for her, after all, given how very obviously middle-class she was. But unfortunately, he found himself nodding his head and walking beside her as they scoured the ground.

“So … Miles …” Gwen began carefully, trying to find a way to discreetly drop her bracelet on the ground. “What do you do? When you’re not rescuing damsels in distress, of course.”

He barked out a laugh at her joke and Gwen smiled at the sound, delighted to have been able to make him laugh. “I take whatever odd job I can find, but … I've been thinking of … apprenticing … for a carpenter.”

Why would he say that? Why would he share such personal details about him with this stranger; details he’d never even shared with his closest friend? Maybe because she was a stranger? Someone who didn’t know enough about him to tell him what a ridiculous idea it was? Miles turned away and winced as he waited for her to laugh in his face at the very idea.

“That sounds great!” Gwen replied unexpectedly. “Have you got a shop in mind?”

Hesitated at her, stunned by her excitement. Then the corners of his lips curled in response to her genuine enthusiasm.

“Yes, actually!” he admitted. “He makes the most beautiful doors! They’re the first thing you see when you approach someone’s house, so-” He paused, embarrassed by his sudden passion. What the hell was he doing talking about doors to this beautiful young woman?! Of course she didn’t want to hear about doors! He turned away from her, lowering his head and avoiding her gaze.

“Uh, sorry, I … I tend to get a little carried away when … when it comes to … this sort of thing,” he apologised. Then, “oh! Is this it?”

He bent over to pick up a delicate silver bracelet and Gwen let out an exaggerated gasp of relief. “Oh, goodness! Yes! Thank you! Thank you so much, Miles, I can’t … How can I ever repay you?”

She grinned as she accepted the bracelet and Miles felt his stomach do a flip as she fluttered her lashes up at him. Honestly, her smile was reward enough for him. He froze, caught off guard by the sudden thought, then he took a step back from her. “Uh, no payment required, Miss!”

He cast his gaze down and shuffled awkwardly in position, trying to figure out what to say to her. Finally, he looked up and opened his mouth at the same time that Gwen did. “Oh! Please! You go first.”

“Oh! No! You can go first.”

“I insist.”

Gwen hung her head, trying to hide the blush that had crawled up her pale cheeks. She brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, then she peeked up at him again shyly. “I was just going to say that … I should probably … be going now, but … I hope … that is … maybe … we might … see each other? Again?”

Miles swallowed hard at the suggestion, suddenly getting nervous at the implication that she wanted to see him again. Because nothing would ever come of it.

“Uh, maybe,” he replied noncommittally. He pushed aside his disappointment for the moment and gestured down the alley. “Do you need help getting back to your carriage?”

“Oh! Uh … I … I took a taxi, actually.” She bit her lip, waiting for him to chastise her about travelling the dangerous streets on her own. And as expected, Miles gave her a horrified look.

“I would strongly advise you to not do that again, Miss Gwen.”

Gwen shot him an exasperated look as she began walking down the narrow path. “I told you to call me Gwen, Mister Miles.”

Miles cringed at how weird it sounds. “Right. Gwen.”

They continued in companionable silence to the end of the street and Miles waited until Gwen’s carriage was out of sight before he turned to head back home. But it was at that moment that someone jumped out at him, taking him by surprise.

“Hey, bruv! What are you doing with the Commissioner's daughter?” Miles relaxed when he heard the familiar sound of his friend’s voice. Then he tensed up again when he realised what he’d just said.

“The Commissioner’s daughter?!” he repeated incredulously. Hobie grinned as he slung and arm around Miles’s shoulders.

“You think she can get us into the palace?” he asked. Miles glared at him.

“Shove off, Hobie,” he told him, pushing his friend to the side. Hobie snickered at his characteristic righteousness and easily caught up to him as they made their way back home.

“Come on. Your uncle would be mighty pleased to know that you’re finally getting involved in the movement,” he pointed out. Miles grimaced uneasily.

“I am involved in the movement,” he argued weakly, his stomach twisting itself into knots as he thought of the plans his uncle had discussed at the last meeting. “I just … I don’t think we need to take it that fa-”

“Oh! And what?” Hobie stopped in his tracks, his carefree demeanour taking a sudden unanticipated turn. “You think the Queen is going to give us the time of day otherwise?”

Miles held his gaze as the both of them stared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to back down. Finally, Hobie sighed and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Come on. I’m not gonna fight you, bruv. Let’s just make sure we make it back in time for supper, yeah?”

Continue

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