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moomine · 3 days ago

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backwash III | daisuke

author's note: thank you to literally everyone who’s reading this! you guys are so so sweet and i love you all <3 if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me!! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) Sleep is increasingly hard to find on the Tulpar. At night the reader spends her time in the cockpit, thinking about home. When she feels the whim to sleep, she ventures back to the sleeping quarters, only to bump into Daisuke. Instead, she joins him for a midnight snack and some conversation in the lounge.

word count: 2,372

warnings: no trigger warnings! all characters are 18+

now playing: Dave Bixby - "Morning Sun"

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EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 034—

There was this movie I watched once when I was a kid, about a little girl who falls from the sky. Although I can’t remember the title of it now. I do remember that she was a part of another world, a part of something bigger. She was important. I don’t think you have us write these to talk about movies, do you? I’m sure you’d rather hear about the operations on board, or the technical difficulties, or if there’s been any damage to the cargo. You know, the “important stuff”. Everything is running smoothly so far. Is that good?

I want to be a part of something bigger one day. Hopefully this experience will help me. I’m grateful to have this opportunity.

DAY THIRTY-THREE—

Pony Express allowed a maximum of five hours of sleep to their employees on haul. During those five hours, the Tulpar was shadowed by a veil of utter stillness. A silence not too dissimilar to that of a library, or that painful pause in awkward conversation. It was too quiet, which led you to stare at the ceiling until the fatigue of work or boredom got the better of you. Even when you could fall asleep, it was far from restful. Over the past month you had gotten the worst sleep of your entire life thus far. Worse than when you lived in those co-ed dorms with unruly neighbors and argumentative hallways. Worse than those nights thunder cracked down from the darkened sky and you clutched stuffed animals in your chubby, child hands. After a certain point, you had given up on finding sleep at all.

The computer screens within the cockpit would beep on occasion, the sound barely audible over the soft plucking of guitar strings in your headphones. The coords of some old folk song filled your ears instead. You sat in the captain's chair, curling in on yourself with your knees to your chest and arms around your person. Your head snuggled into the dip in your legs, cheek pressed your knee cap as you stared at the sea of glowing green.

Curly had given you permission not too long ago to sit in the cockpit at night. Within the first month of your apprenticeship, you had grown on him quite a bit. The captain had always been a kindhearted person. He was a people pleaser to his core, a man simply happy to help. Curly saw a lot of himself in you, and he knew what it was like to feel, well, restless.

“As long as you promise not to touch anything,” he had said, prefacing his next words with a comforting smile, “you have my permission to use your clearance to the cockpit at night. But if word gets to the higher ups, they’ll have my head, understood? We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Normally, you tried to pay attention to how long you had been sitting there, keeping track of each song that played to count the minutes as they passed, but tonight you hadn’t. With a sigh, you reluctantly stood from Curly’s chair, deciding to give sleep another try. You slipped your Walkman into the pocket of your pajama pants and left the cockpit. Each step you took was quiet, almost imperceivable, as you walked down the hall toward the sleeping quarters. You didn’t want to disturb the others, although you had a feeling nobody else was sleeping all that well either. The rusted, trusty pipes groaned as you passed, their settling moans somehow bypassing the volume of your music. It made you feel uneasy. You reached into your pocket and turned the music up a bit in an attempt to drown out the sound.

Rounding the corner, you finally reached the door to the sleeping quarters. Just as you reached for the door handle, it slid open seemingly on its own, causing you to flinch. Standing there—holding a flashlight in one hand and with the other placed against his chest—was Daisuke, looking far more caught off guard than you felt. You winced as he shined the light directly into your eyes.

“Holy shit, dude,” he breathed, voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You straight up scared the hell out of me. What are you doing walking around in the dark?” Daisuke adjusted his aim and shot the beam at the ceiling instead, creating enough light for the two of you to see each other a little better.

With a soft laugh, you pulled your headphones from your ears, allowing them to hang around the back of your neck. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

“You too?” Daisuke questioned.

“I’m surprised anyone can sleep on this thing,” you whispered. “Where are you going?”

His eyes dropped in embarrassment as he used his free hand to rub nervous circles against the side of his neck. “I’m… I’m grabbing a snack from the lounge. You wanna come?”

“Yeah, if you want me to.” You didn’t hesitate. Anything sounded better than tossing and turning. You stepped to the side, permitting him enough space to walk out of the doorway then alongside you.

Daisuke breathed a chuckle at your response. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”

“Then I guess I’m coming,” you said in a hushed, playful tone.

Daisuke looked at you with a smile and nodded, shining his flashlight down the hall as the two of you began to walk in silence. In the quiet of the hall, the door to the lounge seemed to open with a deafening wheeze. Deep, royal blue illuminated the large room. The night-time window screen displayed a starry sky with wisp-like clouds, bathing the room with an otherworldly glow. It reminded you of going to the aquarium as a kid, surrounded by water and the smell of saltwater. You half expected to look up and see sharks and fish swimming overhead, but you knew all there would be was a dull, blank ceiling and slumbering lights.

Daisuke stuck his head through the doorway, peeking to see if anyone was already inside. When he determined that the coast was clear—although it wouldn’t have mattered anyway considering the noise of the door, he motioned for you to follow him inside.

“Hell yeah! The place is ours,” Daisuke celebrated, speaking louder once the door closed behind you two. He walked toward the vending machines with long, intentional strides. You tread on his heels, gaze fixed on him in amusement as he looked over the different options.

You pulled your Walkman from your pocket, then leaned against the bar, palms pressed to the countertop as you pushed yourself up, and took a seat on the cool, brown laminate. “Is there normally someone else here?”

“Hmm?” He barely heard you, too fixated on what he was going to eat. As he processed what you had said, the words loading behind his eyes in a turning spiral, he ordered a pack of freeze-dried fruit and tore into the package. “Oh, nah. Not usually. I mean, I’ve seen Anya in here once or twice, but she’s always coming from medical bay. Getting coffee for those late nights, I guess.”

“She works too much,” you noted. “I wish she wouldn’t push herself like that.”

“You two seem close.” Daisuke approached, leaning against the counter beside you.

“Yeah. You could say that.” A tender smile graced your lips at the thought of you and Anya being close.

There was a pause, a brief lull in the otherwise newborn conversation. A series of crunches sounded from your right where Daisuke stood as he popped piece after piece into his mouth. You glanced over at him, the tenderness of your smile warping into something more entertained. He glanced over at you in turn, his mouth full of apple as he mustered a lopsided smile.

“Hey, it’s your Walkman,” he exclaimed after a swallow, pointing at the dated tech in your lap. “Whatcha listening to?”

“Oh,” you peeped with a suddenly flustered look on your face. “It’s a mix my mom made for me. Just a bunch of old folk stuff she used to play for me when I was little.”

“Can I listen?” he asked, shoving another piece of fruit in his mouth.

“S-Sure, yeah.” You unplugged your headphones and played the tape. It crackled, the old speaker not what it used to be. Or what it ever was, truthfully.

Maybe the quality of the sound would have bothered somebody else, but not Daisuke. As your small corner of the lounge filled with the sound of guitar—the stories of rural towns, first loves, and early mornings, Daisuke set his snack on the counter and listened intently. It was far from what he’d normally like, but something about listening to it here, with you made it sound perfect.

“It’s funny, actually. I never used to like this stuff back on Earth, but lately this is the only one I want to listen to,” you said over the music.

“You must really miss her.” Daisuke inched closer, standing less than a foot away from you as he leaned against the counter. His gaze flickered up to your face, quietly admiring the curves and arches of your profile. Under the blue light of the night time window screen, any blemish or imperfection on your face seemed to vanish. Not that he had ever noticed any imperfections on you. Matter of fact, for some reason, he couldn’t imagine seeing any part of you as imperfect. Even if he tried. There was a somber look in your expression as he spoke, one that made his stomach twist in knots.

“So much. I didn’t think it would be this hard being away from home.” Your voice was just above a whisper now. You felt your eyes begin to burn, the familiar sensation of tears welling in the corners as you tried to suppress the ebbing flow. With the shake of your head, you let out a quick laugh, feeling the tension gradually lifted from your shoulders. “What kind of music do you like?”

Daisuke didn’t blink or care about the change in discussion. He didn’t care about what the two of you talked about, and he wasn’t going to pry either. He knew that you would open when you felt comfortable enough to do so, and he was happy to wait however long that would take.

“A bit of everything, I guess. It kinda pisses me off when people say that and, like, they don’t actually mean it.” He slid his snack off of the bar and extended it to you, shaking it as the pieces inside rattled against each other. “I have a pretty impressive vinyl collection back home. Got everything from Etta James to Duster. You should see it sometime.”

Weakly, you smiled and took a piece of the fruit from the package. “Maybe when all of this is said and done. After the haul?”

“I’d love that,” Daisuke responded quickly, eyes trailing over your face. After another moment of silence, a brief break in conversation, he shifted on his heels and looked away. “So, you uh… you got anyone waiting for you back home? Y’know, like friends? A boyfriend? Or uh, a girlfriend? If you, like, swing that way or whatever. Which would be totally cool, obviously. I’ve got a bunch of gay friends-”

“Daisuke,” you said with a hint of that ever familiar amusement in your voice. “Relax, okay?”

He looked back at you and nodded. “Right, yeah… So, do you?”

“Friends? Yeah, a bunch. I miss them too. But a partner, not so much…” You felt your cheeks light up, a soft pink flush dusting the peaks of your cheekbones and the ridge of your nose.

“Hey, that’s cool,” he responded, bumping shoulders with you and trying not to sound too happy about your response. “Me neither. I mean, like I said, I’ve got loads of friends. Just not the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing.”

“Look at us,” you mused. “One in the same.”

“Yup, one in the same.” Daisuke glanced back at you hopefully, then looked away. He downed the rest of his dried fruit and crumpled up the package, tossing it in the direction of a nearby trashcan and missing by a couple feet. He winced, feeling a tinge of embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You gonna go get that?” you asked jokingly, pushed yourself from the countertop, and landed on your feet, securely tucking your Walkman back into your pocket as the music stopped.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and walked toward the trash before picking it up and disposing of it properly. “It’s on the way out anyway. In fact, I meant to do that.”

You trailed after him, following close behind as the two of you approached the exit to the lounge. “Totally,” you teased, smiling up at him.

Yet again, the door slid open with that deafening screech as Daisuke and you left the lounge. Together, you walked back to the sleeping quarters. At the door, Daisuke turned to you and stopped. His brown eyes trailed over your features once more in the darkness, illuminated only by the light of the flashlight in his hands. Even in the blackness of the hallway, his smile was bright. His gap-toothed grin seemed almost bright enough to flood the entire hallway with light.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he spoke quietly.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you responded.

Daisuke opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words he wanted to say seemed caught in his throat. Instead, he just nodded and displayed that same smile. Your brows furrowed questioningly, an expression that made his heart skip a bit. Before you could say anything, he opened the door to the sleeping quarters and ushered you inside.

“Goodnight, [Name]. See ya in the morning.” He bit his lip, walking backward toward his room and nearly stumbling when he reached the door.

“Sweet dreams, Daisuke.”

With that, you slipped into your room with a strange feeling in your chest. A tightness you hadn’t felt since high school, since hallway crushes and etching names into wooden picnic tables. An ache at the loss of his presence. How strange.

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pookies (taglist): @xcryptk33p3rx @freakyydaisukee @sanctuaryofsmartiess @st4rrysblog @academiq @c4t-n1pp @iiveraii

#reader #x reader #reader insert #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing daisuke #mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke x reader #daisuke #fem reader #curly mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #mouthwashing daisuke x reader

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janeyseymour · 3 days ago

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Never In A Million Years, Unless... -part 3

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: Melissa has an important question to ask you, in front of all of your special guests.

WC: ~2.75k

“Nonna’s ring?” Kristen Marie nearly shouts into the phone, and for a split second, your girlfriend glances down at you to pray you don’t wake up.

“Nonna’s ring,” Melissa confirms. “I’ve decided that if I’m gonna give marriage another try, it should be with Y/N.”

“What happens when you split from her and don’t get the family heirloom back?”

“Shut the hell up,” the redhead nearly hisses. “I know we ain’t breakin’ up. She’s put up with my ass for years- why would she leave now?”

“I’ll have it for you at family dinner on Sunday,” the blonde sighs.

“One thing though,” Melissa says quietly. At the hum, she continues. “You can’t tell nobody.”

“Why the hell would I say anything?”

“To get back at me for God knows what.”

“I like to fuck with you, but I don’t go messing with Y/N,” Kristen Marie promises. “Now get off the phone; I need my beauty sleep.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Melissa teases her sister. “Night.”

Melissa gets the family heirloom at Sunday’s dinner, and she sneakily hides it in her purse.

That Monday, your girlfriend is able to get Barbara alone before the kids all come in while you’re off preparing for this week’s lessons.

She just pulls the ring out of her purse and plants it in her best friend’s hands.

Barb’s eyes go wide. “Is this what I think it is?”

“An engagement ring? Yeah.”

“No,” the kindergarten teacher shakes her head before amending, “Well, yes. But is this your Nonna’s ring?”

The redhead nods her head. “If I’m gonna give that ring to anyone, it’s gonna be Y/N.”

“Melissa, dear, this is wonderful,” Barbara hands back the ring. “Does anyone else know?”

“Just Kristen Marie,” the second grade teacher rolls her eyes as she carefully puts the ring back in her bag. “And now you. I need your help.”

“My help?”

“When it gets nicer out, I told Y/N we could have a barbecue at our place, and I want everyone to be there… no one listens to anyone more than they listen to you.”

Your grade level partner smiles a smile that meets her eyes. “Of course. You just tell me a date and time.”

“Saturday, May 18th,” Melissa states.

“You already know the date?”

“I had some time to look over the dates while Y/N was in the shower and text with her mother about coming over that day,” the redhead shrugs. “So, can I count on you?”

“Of course you can,” Barbara grins as she squeezes her best friend’s shoulder. “Now, go help that girlfriend of yours before she loses her damn mind. I know she’s been stressed about this week, what with the benchmark testing happening and conferences coming up.”

And so, Melissa does just that. When she comes into your classroom, you seem to be up to your eyeballs in paperwork. Her eyes immediately see how tense you are in your shoulders.

“Mi amore,” she sighs softly as she comes to stand behind you. Her hands gently rest on your shoulders before she begins massaging them.

You smile at the contact and pause your work for a brief moment to crane your neck and kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Warm lips are on yours for a brief second before she glances at what you’re doing. You’re currently getting portfolios together for your kids to show their parents at conferences.

“Babe,” she tuts softly. “Conferences aren’t for another two weeks, and we still have quarterly testing to do.”

“I know,” you mutter. “I just want to get a head start on it.”

“You’re already worlds ahead of me,” your girlfriend sighs. “Take a breather and enjoy your coffee with me.”

“Mel,” you all but whine out.

So, with a heavy breath, the redhead pulls up a chair next to you and begins to go through the paperwork with you. Only, you pause your work to admire her. Her hair is beautifully cascading down her shoulders, her eyeliner looks so sharp today, the way her glasses are on the tip of her nose gets you going, and her clear focus on something she clearly doesn’t want to do but is willing to get over it for you- it has you enamored.

“Was this your plan?” your girlfriend teases as she continues to thumb through the papers. “Get me to do your work while you just stare at me?”

You shake your head goodheartedly before planting a quick kiss to her cheek. “Just admiring my gorgeous woman.” And then the two of you are nose deep in filing the work for your five and six year olds.

May 18th comes all too quickly, and yet somehow it feels like forever to the redhead for the day to come. But here the two of you are, cleaning your house up and down, making sure the floors are vacuumed or mopped, checking that the couch cushions are fluffed to Melissa’s liking, and just generally making sure the house is presentable.

“I think it looks good,” you say as you scrub the last of the pots that had sat in the sink to soak overnight.

Melissa hums as she tightens the messy ponytail that she has her red locks in. “I guess. I just don’t want everyone thinkin’ we live in some slum.”

You bite back a chuckle at that as you move towards her to wrap your arms around her neck. “With all due respect, we’ve been to Janine’s. We’re just fine, hun.”

Your girlfriend purses her lips as she mulls over your statement.

Before the two of you know it, your first guests are arriving at your house. Thankfully, you had the time to shower and change out of your cleaning clothes before Barbara and her husband show at your doorstep.

Not a long time has passed before everyone has shown, including all of the Abbott clan that you had invited. It’s funny seeing the way that the groups manage each other. Melissa’s family is a bit more stiff, your family is as bouncy and talkative as you, and the Abbott group moves as a group as they try to learn everything they can about the two of you.

“Ma,” both you and your girlfriend yell at your respective parents.

“What?”

“Stop embarrassing me!”

Melissa’s mother and sister are currently telling Barbara and Jacob about the shenanigans your girlfriend used to get up to as a girl while your mother is showing Janine and Gregory baby pictures that she has of you on her phone.

Both of your parents just wave you off with shit eating grins, and the two of you breathe a deep sigh.

“Was this our best idea yet?” you ask sarcastically. “Having everyone we know under one roof to exchange every embarrassing story they could possibly have on us?”

Melissa just sighs. “I have no fuckin’ clue. I hope it’s worth it.”

“What do you mean?” you ask softly, not knowing of her plan to propose.

Green eyes look into yours as she quickly searches for an excuse. “I mean, we have a life together. They’d all intermix eventually- might as well be on our time as opposed to by accident.”

“I suppose you may be right,” you chuckle softly as you lean in to kiss her, tangling your fingers together softly. You pull her along toward the direction of the kitchen to begin prepping the burgers you know she and Mr. Johnson will be cooking up later.

“So why are we all here? And don’t give me no trash excuse,” Mr. Johnson asks the redhead as they’re making the burgers together. “There’s gotta be a real reason.”

Melissa scopes out the area, and you’re invested in a conversation with your mother and Janine about only God knows what. She leans in and whispers, “I’m proposing. Wanted the important people here.”

“The Abbott crew is that important to you?” the custodian raises a brow as he flips a burger.

“Family,” she tells him. “An’ if she says yes, will you walk with me down the aisle?”

Mr. Johnson pauses his motions and looks to your girlfriend with wide eyes. “Tell me you’re playing. I know I didn’t hear you right.”

“I ain’t, and you did.”

He claps a hand on her shoulder with a dazzling smile. “Hell yeah I will- when she says yes.”

“You really think she’ll say yes?”

“Melissa, Melissa, Melissa,” Mr. Johnson chuckles fondly. “I’m not sure about a lot of things. But if I’m certain about one thing, it’s that your woman loves you, and she’ll say yes.”

Dinner is on the table, all of your friends and family gathering around for a nice meal- all except for your girlfriend, Kristen Marie, and Barbara.

“Where the hell could they be?” you mutter to yourself as you begin to get up out of your chair.

“Just let them be,” Mr. Johnson practically forces you back into the chair. He knows what those three are doing. They’re pulling champagne flutes out of the cars and pouring enough for everyone to toast to the two of you.

“I’m sure they could use some-” You go to get out of your seat again.

“I said let them be, woman!” Mr. Johnson instructs you in an unusually serious tone. “Jesus, so stubborn, just like your girlfriend.”

You furrow a brow at his odd behavior, but you let it go. With a soft sigh, you settle back into your seat.

It’s only a few minutes later that Melissa, her sister, and her work wife come into the room. But they’re empty handed.

“Where the hell were you?” you ask as she stands by her seat next to you. Barbara and Kristen Marie stay by the door.

“I had a few things I had to prepare for,” is all she says.

“And that would be?”

She takes her stein of beer that’s been set beside her plate by you so graciously, and taps on it with a fork. You give her a look that tells her you have no idea what’s happening. But everyone’s eyes turn to her, and the small chatter that had once filled the room is gone. You don’t notice that Barbara has pulled out her phone to begin filming.

“Hey, everyone,” Melissa smiles that charming smile of hers. “I got somethin’ important I wanted to say.”

“Mel, what?” you pull her in close and whisper into her ear. “What announcement are we making?”

“Just wait, hun,” she tells you.

“I would’ve thought we would’ve discussed whatever you’re going to say to the whole group.”

“Can you be patient for like two minutes?”

You’re not so sure that you like the tone that your girlfriend has taken with you, but you hold your hands up in surrender.

She just smiles at you before shining green eyes look back around the patio at the people you love enough to bring into your home. “I got somethin’ I wanna say. Today is a special day for me an’ Y/N, and we… I wanted all of the people that matter the most to us to be here for it.”

“What’s today?” you ask quietly. Silently, you go through your mind for special dates. None of those dates are in May. “Hun, what are you-”

“Everyone here knows that I was married before. Not too keen on the idea of remarrying. Told quite a few of youse-” she glances to her mother, her sister, and Barbara. “-that there was no damned way I was ever getting married again.”

“Melissa,” you whisper as you piece together what’s happening.

She just shushes you. “And then Y/N came along and into my life, and she changed everything that I ever thought I knew to be my world. And since she started working at Abbott, I’ve come to fall in love with the best, most loving, funny, ridiculous woman that I’ve ever met. I found someone who embraced every single side of me and has loved me through it all. I- I found the freakin’ miracle that made me change my thoughts on marriage and a forever. So-” Melissa gets down on one knee and pulls the ring box out of her pocket that she’s been holding onto for months. “Marry me? Make me the happiest woman alive by becoming Mrs. Schemmenti?”

The box is opened, and the ring is sitting there as shiny as ever. It’s… it’s beautiful. “Yes,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. You lean down and cup her cheek with one hand to pull her into a warm kiss as she slips the ring on your finger. “Absolutely, yes.”

She stands and raises your hand up in the air as though she was the champion of something (she’d later tell you that she is the champion of your heart- she won the best prize there is). “We’re engaged, bitches!”

No sooner is Kristen Marie walking around with a tray of champagne flutes that each of your guests takes.

Once she drops your hand and interlaces your right hand with her left, you get a glance at the ring. It- That- You’re wearing her beloved Nonna’s ring. You have the Schemmenti family heirloom sitting on your finger.

You go to say something to her in a hushed out whisper, but Kristen Marie shoves a glass of bubbly into your hand, and then Melissa is tapping her glass again.

“I got a couple more things I wanna say,” your now fiancee grins from ear to ear. “I just wanted to say thank you to Barb for helping make sure everyone was here. Thank you to Y/N’s parents for giving me their blessing to marry their daughter. Thank you to Kristen Marie for helping me get the ring- the family heirloom.”

“So it is Nonna’s ring?” you whisper out.

Melissa just nods with a soft smile. She presses a kiss to your temple. “And thank you, to my beautiful fiancee. For putting up with my stubborn ass for this long, and for agreeing to put up with my stubborn ass for as long as God has it planned that we’re on this Earth together.” She raises her glass before taking a sip. Everyone follows suit before breaking out into a chorus of cheers for the two of you.

It’s a bit of time before everyone has settled back into their seats for the meal, your guests all eager to get a look at the dazzling ring on your finger. But then dinner is had, desserts and more drinks are had, and it’s a perfect, perfect night.

You spend the rest of your little house party being flocked around, your friends and family absolutely thrilled that you’re the special woman that finally got to change Melissa’s mind about love.

By the time your last guests begin to file out, you have rosy cheeks from the crisp outdoor air and the champagne that you’ve had. The smile on your face hasn’t gone away though. You can’t believe that you’re actually getting married.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” your mom whispers to you as she hugs you tightly. “Now… work on getting me some grandkids?”

“Mom!” you half groan, half whine.

Before you can say anything else though, Melissa has a hand on the small of your back, she’s pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, and she’s telling your mother quietly, “Let us get married first, yeah?”

That simple question to your mother has you raising your eyebrows and looking at your future wife with wide eyes.

The redhead just shrugs before smiling sweetly at you. She then turns her attention back to your parents. “Text us when you get home safe.” She kisses each of their cheeks softly and watches as they walk to their car.

At last, it’s just the two of you together in the comfort of your own home. Before you can even react, Melissa has you pinned up against the door, and she’s kissing you hungrily.

You can’t quite stop the moan that escapes from your lips when you feel wandering hands. “Honey.”

“God, I fuckin’ love my fiancee so much,” she mumbles into your mouth. Then she’s trailing kisses down your jawline and your neck.

It’s safe to say, you don’t get much sleep that night. And throughout all of the escapades, that beautiful rock sits on your finger perfectly.

tags: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you

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deathbxnny · 2 days ago

Note

Hi I would like to request a part 2 of my previous request for the jinx x fem reader with abandonment issues

"I'm sorry you lost your way home." | Jinx x Reader

(Previous part)

I decided to combine these two, so thank you to the anons and their requests!! I hope you'll like this!<33

(I'm sorry in advance-)

Content: Heavy angst, abandonment issues, heavy spoilers for season 2 act 3, hurt/no comfort, established romantic relationships, death, sfw

Reader was asked to be afab in one of the requests. However, no pronouns are mentioned in the post!

((Not proofread))

The first person to visit you after her disappearance was Vi. The sister you had heard so much about, yet never anything good. But it all melted away at her words.

Your ears were ringing, and for a moment, you wondered if you had perhaps heard her wrong. "... Jinx said that she was going to help someone out before she left with Isha. And... And she swore they'd be back. So don't you lie to me-" You took a deep breath when you stumbled back against the doorway, nearly sliding down the rough wood in terror. Oh, how you wished the ground would open up to swallow you whole.

Vi gave you an unreadable look, her hand hesitantly reaching out to grab you, but she refrained at the last second. You meant the world to Jinx. She had asked her to find you just before... "I'm sorry. But what I'm saying is the truth, I-... They are both dead. There is no doubt about it. I saw it with my own eyes both times and... I can't get the images out of my head." Sweat dripped down your forehead as you only barely heard Vi speak to you.

Life was just becoming good for you... so why did this have to happen?

You both had just recently taken in Isha a while ago and were basically treating her as your child. You saw the way she healed Jinx and made her feel more alive. It meant the world to you to see her that way. And for a while, you perhaps even foolishly believed that things would go well now.

You thought about running away together before, in the darkness of your room, as Isha napped in your arms. You remembered turning to her and whispering, "Let's run away. Let's leave on one of the skyship and go somewhere far away... just the three of us." And you saw it in her gentle gaze, the way she considered it... but it meant nothing in the face of a war she had to fight in.

Looking back on it, you should've maybe seen the signs and listened to the uneasy feeling in your gut when the both of them left for a special mission she refused to tell you about. It was for your own safety she'd say and who were you to intervene or deny her orders? She was always so much more intelligent and stronger than you. You just blindly trusted her. You believed she'd return soon just as she's promised... but she never did.

Neither of them did.

It was radio silence for the longest time. And you hadn't moved an inch from the small apartment Jinx considered to be her second hideout with you and your kid. Not when the war broke out, not when there was a call for arms, not when you peeked out for the barricaded windows at the creepy, white machines that slinked right past your hiding space.

And now you wonder, in the haze of uncertainty and panic, if the balloon you had momentarily seen soar through the sky was her after all. Had the denial misled you into a false sense of foolish security? Did you really, fully believe she'd be back for you? That she'd bring Isha home safely and run away at last? Yes. Yes, you did. You believed it... but received a charred part of one of her bombs in return. A confirmation that it was truly over for the family and future you had built together for the shortest amount of time.

"... leave. Please leave. I can't bare looking at you." You gasped out in-between heaving breaths, unable to stand Vi's presence any longer. Everyone was making you feel sick. What's the point of being a savior if you die? What's the point of seeing a hero if you leave behind what you love the most to suffer in agony?

You had waited so long at this wooden door to your once warm home for their return. For her return. Yet all you were greeted with was the one thing that was left of her. A sister she did still love deep down more than life itself. You, however, could only feel rage.

"Wait. She told me to loom out for you. I can't-" "-I said leave! If it wasn't for you, then we could have left and been happy!" You yelled out, suddenly not caring about hurting anyone's feelings anymore. And god did it hurt. It hurt so much. Because Vi still had a piece of her in her. But it wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough in her and Isha's absence.

Slamming the door into Vi's face and locking it for good measure, you finally fall to your knees and clutch the last, charred thing you had of her to your chest, sobbing. You drowned out Vi's yells and bangs against the door whilst you did so, deciding that if you were in agony, then she didn't deserve any consolation either.

Your worst nightmare had come to fruition, just as the last skyship of the day flew into the sky and left its past behind.

#arcane #arcane x genderneutral reader #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane jinx #arcane jinx x reader #jinx arcane #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #jinx x fem!reader #arcane x female reader

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nadas-dirthalen · 2 days ago

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Dragon Age: the Veilguard Was Packed with Lore — But Many of Us Overlooked It

— PART TWO —

[ 1 ]

Welcome back, friends and travellers. If you've been here a while, you'll know that I wrote 30,000 words of predictions in the week and a half before DA:tV released. But here's the most surprising thing—I was right, for the most part.

I spent my first Veilguard playthrough grinning (and then sobbing) at all the lore reveals. And here's the thing: I think most of us missed a lot of them, including even me.

So let's unpack some more.

Titans and Spirits: Dark and Light, Abyss and Fade, the Eternal Hymn and its Endless Listeners (2/2)

This is your warning: This post will contain spoilers for the entirety of Dragon Age: the Veilguard, and all Dragon Age content made before Veilguard.

I've spoken a lot about the titans before. In fact, they make up the bedrock (lol) of many of my pre-Veilguard theories. While a lot of what I said a month ago has since become canon in Veilguard, there's a lot that remains as speculation.

Today, I'm going to talk about why I still stand by my theory from October: that the titans and the spirits have far, far more in common than we think, and that this is of vital importance for the next game(s).

Today's Discussion:

What Solas' Creation and Harding's Personal Quest Have in Common

Not Only Do Titans Behave as Spirits... Spirits Behave as Titans

The Dark and the Light, Sundered

Atonement Solas' Promise: He (Still) Seeks Regeneration

What Solas' Creation and Harding's Personal Quest Have in Common

Thanks to Veilguard (and the hints that came before it, if you're coming here from my previous posts), we know that Solas and Harding have far more in common than they think. Both are inexorably connected to the titans: Solas because his body was crafted from lyrium, and Harding because of how her Stone magic awoke after touching Solas' lyrium dagger.

I've theorized before that I think Solas is still connected to Isatunoll, but that the creation of the Veil altered or harmed this connection somehow. Veilguard touches on this with its implications: Solas says the blight senses his presence during the Minrathous portion of the endgame, and says during his Atonement ending that he is able to soothe the titans' anger. It also asserts, during Solas' Memory #3, that the ritual to create the Veil went wrong, wounding Solas in the process.

Both Solas and Harding, then, have to do with both the titans' past and their future. The Temple of Solasan is referenced when this codex in Trespasser mentions the titans needing to be forgotten, and we know now that Mythal and Solas would come to sunder the titans with the lyrium dagger. Solas is the reason the titans were forgotten, and is likely the source of the song "I am the One."

Harding, by contrast, is one of few dwarves whose magic has awoken. The Titan Shade in her personal quest demands that the world remember the anger and pain it has forgotten: the titans' sundering (as well as her own anger). The titans have no future without acknowledgement of their past, and so both Solas and Harding have instrumental roles to play going forward (assuming both are alive and have agreed to this).

It is evident, also, that the pain of being forgotten is traumatic to the titans. Cole mentions this several times in Inquisition, as referenced in the last post. Songs that once sang the same; titans stuck asleep, forgetting how to wake.

And here is where Solas and Harding's parallels really come to light.

This trauma forces Harding to make a choice with her Titan Shade. In every scenario, she acknowledges the Shade's pain. Her choice, then, is to embrace that pain and carry it in Compassion... or embrace the titans' anger, as well as her own. In other words, as is referenced by Stalgard...

I drew close, and the sound became something more. I could feel it, Lace Harding…. Rage, sorrow, and a vast loneliness. — Codex: Letter for Lace Harding

Rage. Harding must choose between Compassion and Rage. We've seen this before. It comes up in Down Among the Dead Men, a story in the Tevinter Nights anthology:

Following a trauma, spirits are pushed toward changing. For so long in this franchise, we called these changes "demons," and still do. But the creature itself is not different—it just exists in a different state.

Emmrich says exactly this, equating spirits and the Titan Shade.

I once communed with a soul who shared a tale of deep sorrow from his youth. "So that the truth wouldn't be lost," he said. Interestingly enough, he could only bear to recall the event after death, when the memory had lost its sting. (l cannot share the tale. A Watcher must keep the confidences of the dead.) Your experience with what you call "the Titan's Shade" brought this anecdote to mind. As you say, in the first moments of your transformation, you were unable or unwilling to confront the depth of the Titans' sorrow. But unlike my friend, this pain was never quite your own. Instead of being trapped within, it fled elsewhere. — Codex: From Emmrich, on Sorrow Denied

We see, now, that the titans do the same thing. The only difference is that Harding is connected to the titan through Isatunoll; her spirit is not, itself, inside the titan. Put through a trauma, though, the titans turn. This is something I theorized as happening to Solas' titan upon his creation, because the trauma of the elves making bodies from its lyrium caused the titan to lash out and fight back, just like Cole says in DAI.

This is why both Solas and Harding are capable of soothing the titans' anger. It doesn't matter that Harding is a dwarf and Solas is one of the elvhen: both are still connected to their titan.

But as much as Veilguard tells us about the Titans being more similar to spirits than previously thought, it does not stop there. No: if you listen closely, Veilguard whispers to you that this similarity goes both ways. Spirits are more similar to titans than we ever could have imagined.

Not Only Do Titans Behave as Spirits... Spirits Behave as Titans

Something caught my eye during my very first Veilguard playthrough, super early on. Of course, I played the whole game through the lens of my own theories, wondering if there could be a connection between titans and spirits.

Immediately I saw, on the floor of a cell in the Ossuary:

I am Nyrys I was Nyrys I we were we are Nyrys — Note: Inmate Scribbling

Immediately, I was reminded of Harding's description of Isatunoll: "It means 'I am here.' But no, not 'I.' 'I' is singular. But it isn't 'we,' either. 'We' is multiple, but also separate... Isatunoll is the eternal hymn that encompasses all time. All spaces. I am. We are. This. That. Here. There. Now. And forever."

That seems to suggest that Nyrys, an inmate who was probably turned into an abomination, might be connected to Isatunoll. The note is written almost the exact same way that Harding is speaking. "But Lore," I hear you saying, "Couldn't that just be an abomination thing, a spirit struggling to share a body?"

I thought so, too. Right up until this.

Late after— (the handwriting abruptly alters:) a PEACE cut from the ALL golden stranded weaves PROTECTION CAGE keep them OUT keep me IN (Drawn below is a decagonal diagram of perfectly even, intersecting geometric lines.) — Codex: Lucanis' Logbook, 2

Understanding that Spite is likely writing with a phonetic understanding of the common tongue, we can interpret his words as 'a PIECE, cut from the ALL.' While I cannot say for certain what the rest describes (it could be Spite's opinion on the Ossuary, a reference to the titan's sundered dreams, or anything in between)... I know that these two first lines clearly talk about a spirit who has been cut away from something larger and grander than itself. The "all."

Now that sounds like Isatunoll, to me.

If you've been here since my October posts, you know where this is going. I've got to find a way to check this idea against other sources. And the first place I go, usually? The Chant of Light, for all the Chantry's evident faults.

I'm reminded of the creation of the Maker's first and second children.

Then the Voice of the Maker rang out, The first Word, And His Word became all that might be: Dream and idea, hope and fear, Endless possibilities. And from it made his firstborn. — Threnodies 5:1

That exact phrasing—"dream and idea, hope and fear, endless possibilities"—is used both in the creation of the Maker's first and second children. The spirits and the second children's souls. It is not used anywhere else in the Chant of Light.

At last did the Maker From the living world Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth, With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear, Endless possibilities. — Threnodies 5:5

I've said before that I believe that all spirits originate as thoughts—namely, the thoughts of one or more of the titans. I think that even the souls of living people apply, here, despite what some of Emmrich's codices discuss. When you consider how Solas speaks about the Inquistor's spirit in DAI, it seems apparent that (at least to Solas) spirits and souls are interchangeable terms, when they belong to a living person.

Additionally, there is a manor in the Hossberg Wetlands that features an Obsession demon locked away that Rook must kill once they get to its location. The party speculates how the demon may have gotten there, and (I believe Rook) comments on how it is possible that the person from the manor themself may have become the demon.

That would imply that their soul was capable of doing so.

Now, let's go back to how spirits (the Maker's first children) and dwarves (the Maker's second children) are in possession of the same souls, per the Chant of Light. Understanding that the Chant of Light is flawed and that I do not believe that Solas is the Maker (rather, that Solas may have come from the titan that Andraste spoke to), I want to draw attention to this verse.

Then the Maker said: "To you, My second-born, I grant this gift: In your heart shall burn An unquenchable flame All-consuming, and never satisfied. From the Fade I crafted you, And to the Fade you shall return Each night in dreams That you may always remember Me." — Threnodies 5:5

It's important to note that the Maker says to his second-born (the dwarves) that they shall return to the Fade each night in dreams. Remember: the dwarves were once able to dream. More than that, though, the Maker says that the dwarves may visit the Fade each night in dreams to be able to connect with the Maker. They were, in fact, crafted with the "flesh of the Fade," a reference made to lyrium.

That implies a direct connection between the titans and the Fade. It suggests that, once, the titans also shared the Fade with other living creatures—or, perhaps, even more. I still believe that the Fade is the collective consciousness of the titans, and that reconnecting with the Fade is part of reconnecting with the titans because of that fact.

The Dark and the Light, Sundered

In a previous post, I theorized that, because Solas created the Veil and it seemed to have sundered the titans in addition to separating the Fade from the waking world, the Fade must be the titans' shared consciousness. We know now that those were two separate acts: Solas sundered the titans and put part of their dreams into the orbs that became the Evanuris' foci. For a time, I thought that this theory must be wrong.

However, in the same series of memories, we learned one more fact: his ritual to create the Veil went wrong. In Memory #3 (Blackened Hearts), he cries out in pain during the moment the Veil is created. This not only hurt the world, but exhausted Solas. Hurt Solas.

"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap." — Cole dialogue

This refers to the creation of the Veil. We know now that Solas created it, in part, to stop the blight from escaping—that would be the old dreams waking that Cole refers to. What's interesting is that Cole refers to this as Solas chewing off his own metaphorical leg to escape the trap. There was always a personal consequence for Solas referenced here.

But why? Why would being cut off from the Fade outside of dreams hurt him? Spirits exist on Thedas all the time. It is only the trauma of being pulled through the Veil against their will that turns them to demons.

To understand that, we must understand what the Fade even is. How it relates to the titans, and what that means going forward.

First, I want to take a look at this codex from Inquisition, which suggests that the water in the Abyss (the realm of the titans) may be the exact same thing as the emerald waters in the Fade.

It is possible—even likely—that the "emerald waters" Andraste refers to are the substance of the Fade, which began as an "ocean of dreams" (Threnodies 1:1) and was reduced to a well—bottomless but limited in scope—by the Maker's creation of our world. —Codex Entry: Here Lies the Abyss

There are other similarities between these two things that come up in Veilguard, if you're looking for them. The first, for me, is a codex.

What determines which sections of the physical world are echoed in the Fade? Is there an underlying logic, or glacial patterns past comprehension? Do our collective fears and longings craft what we see? The will of a mage is especially potent. We may learn to shape the Fade's pathways, if we are ever-mindful of the dangers this invites. — Codex entry: The Obverse of Reality

The phrasing here is very interesting. We know that Shaping is something that the titans once did. The dwarves, to this day, have the Shaperate, in charge of the Memories. To see that language applied to a mage's influence on the Fade implies that mages may exist the same power to manipulate the Fade as the titans did on the Stone, which suggests that the Fade and the Stone can be Shaped in the same ways. The similarity here does lend itself to a theory where the titans and the Fade are parts of the same being/collective.

The second is that one of the revenants—the Slaughtered Pillars, from Elvhenan's Haven—have a line of dialogue that jarred me the first time I heard it.

"Light and song, stolen."

We know that the titans being sundered took their songs away, for the dwarves (save for a few, now) do not hear the titans' songs anymore. It's the word light that gave me pause.

Three guesses as to where I looked for more instances of the word light. If you guessed the Chant of Light, the gigantic piece of lore with light in its title, you are correct!

The first mention I want to note is the very early in the Chant

Opposition in all things: For earth, sky For winter, summer For darkness, Light. — Threnodies 5:4

Note that Light is capitalized here, implying significance. Again, it appears here. Here, we're implying that capitalized Light refers directly to the Fade.

(11) Above them, a river of Light, Before them the throne of Heaven, waiting — Threnodies 8:11

And, lastly, and most prominently in Veilguard: the Lighthouse. Its name, in the elven language, is "Vhen'Theneras." Translated, though, that would mean, "core of dreams." Unless, of course, dreams and Light are the same thing.

But if the Light is indeed the Fade, and there must be opposition in all things according to the Maker, then where have we seen dark before?

We've seen it in the Abyss—aka, the Void. We've seen it in the darkspawn. Those blighted beings that emerge from the Deep Roads, aka the Abyss/Void. Remember that the blight itself is the escaped maddened dreams of the sundered titans. Darkspawn refers to the product of those escaped dreams—the ones not in the Fade/Light.

Crucially, the darkspawn behave in much the same way as anything connected to Isatunoll. They hear a Calling that, at first, belonged to the archdemons, but Antoine now says is coming from somewhere else, as well.

It's the description of Isatunoll that ties this all together for me: titans/their children and spirits, Abyss and Fade, dark and Light.

In a letter from Dagna to Harding, she describes Isatunoll — but in that description, she focuses on this idea that beings connected to a hivemind "know their purpose." Purpose is a word used by Solas all the time in DAI. Spirits have their own purpose.

Think about ants. Ants know what they are. They know their purpose, and they must understand, instinctually, how that purpose fits within the whole. But what if it doesn't end there? What if their consciousness isn't just individual? What if the nest itself knew what it was? A collective sentience of some kind. Nothing says the ants don't have a collective sentience. We just assume they don't, because they're ants. Ants. Or bees. Or darkspawn. Now, there's a thought. — Codex Entry: Thoughts on "Isatunoll"

What if consciousness itself is not individual? asks Dagna. What if the nest itself knew what it was? This explains the darkspawn, after all: the blighted beings who are all connected to the song of the Calling, and the maddened dreams the blight originates from.

The nest, except for that small trickle of escaped blight, is the Fade. The Fade, which is a place that responds to the collective wants and memories of those inside it. The Fade, whose pathways are shaped by the thoughts and wants of the people—especially mages—within it.

My theory is this: the creation of the Veil may have hurt Solas because Solas was still connected to his titan, and to Isatunoll. Some of his love of the Fade may be because he misses the titans' shared dreams—and, by extension, the shared dreams of every living person on Thedas (except the dwarves, and we know why that is).

Atonement Solas' Promise: He (Still) Seeks Regeneration

We know that the Fade is the collective consciousness of the Titans. Their shared dreams. We also know that not all titans are blighted, because the one in Descent is not. Harding's titan also is not, by the end of DA:tV. I posit that this is why much of the Fade, according to Solas in DAI, is far preferable to the Nightmare's domain that we get to see in DAI. Some of that shared consciousness is still healthy.

Easing the titans' anger, therefore, means fixing all of the Fade. Reconnecting the two might mean that the collective consciousness between all spirits could return to Thedas—and since at least elves' and dwarves' souls likely come from the same origin, it could do a lot to bring some of the people of Thedas together.

This, to me, is part of Solas' grand plan. It is not only to bring back the world from Mythal's time—it is to bring back the world before they broke so much of it, before the titans were sundered by his hand. After all: Solas seeks... regeneration. And that's something he promises us after Mythal leaves.

It's important to me, therefore, that Solas says the blight can feel his presence during the fighting in Minrathous. Not that Elgar'nan can detect Solas through the blight, but that the blight itself can feel him. Neve/Bellara, depending on who is taken, can reach out to protect Solas the very same way: by communing with the blight itself, feeling what it wants, and redirecting its course. We see, here, a hivemind in action.

We also know that Atoned!Solas promises to "soothe the titans' anger." This is something he promises to do from Fade Jail, implying that he is able to interact with the titans and their anger from the Black/Golden City. This implies that the Fade itself, as a realm, is a means of communing with the titans, not just a specific spot within it.

The Veil coming down was always going to un-sunder the titans, and that was always one of the true aims of Solas' goals. Even if it meant blighting the world at first and effectively causing the apocalypse, the titans would eventually feel soothed. The Veil is a wound inflicted on this world, Solas has said before... and we know now that it was.

This section, short as it is, is just me telling you that Solas is still able to achieve those ends from Fade Jail. Just because the Veil is now bound to Solas' life force does not mean that the titans can no longer heal.

This buys us valuable time, allowing the titans' anger to soothe before their consciousness is restored, so that the transition is gentler. It promises hope for all of Thedas going forward. It might even promise a healthier, more stable Fade, shaped by dream, idea, and hope more than fear.

But what will that mean for future games? What could the Fade have to do with what's to come?

Why is now the time that the Executors and "those across the sea" want to make their big planned move on Thedas? Why is now when the "poison fruit" has ripened?

Like many of you, I hope to figure it out—and I feel that every day, I get closer.

Stay tuned. :)

___

If you read this far, you're a hero, now and always.

Like I keep saying: I have to absorb this lore day by day! I cannot inhale the entire wiki in a day, much as I'd like to believe I could! That means that future posts can't adhere to a strict schedule, as they depend on me unearthing enough codices, notes, and connecting threads to provide a post's worth of material.

In future, I'm hoping to learn more about: the Forgotten and Forbidden ones, as well as the connections between them; the Executors, those across the sea, and the connections between THEM; the areas across the sea; the Devouring Storm and what it could mean for Thedas' existence... and maybe how Ghilan'nain was ever connected to any of it.

Stick with me on this journey, if you like. It's fun to keep theorycrafting and yelling with you all. <3

#dragon age #veilguard spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #da:tv #da:v #da theory #da meta #dragon age theory #dragon age meta #dragon age lore #dragon age theorycrafting #solas #solas dragon age #harding #harding dragon age #lace harding

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shiningstarr15 · 16 hours ago

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The Sillies being Silly

Something snapped in me and I realized we don’t have enough of these two having playful interactions. They DO exist they’re just rare. So I’m trying to fix it bc this is one of my biggest hc for their relationship.

And yes, I do believe it’s coming from both sides. Greg is a menace but I fear Vanessa can be just as bad. If you take their “antagonistic” relationship from SB and nullify it a tad, you get something akin to sibling torture bonding. At least that’s how I see it. 😂

The top left drawing and Vanessa’s outfit in the bottom left are both based off my fic :3

Long live the double dork duo 😆🤪

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 days ago

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Trying To Save Me, Part 3

Summary: you make a deal with the white wolf

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings: explicit language, crude language, crude sexual talk, bit of a mention of a breeding kink, teasing, a bit of a chase kink, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.5K

Series Masterlist

*Moodboard created by @theinheriteddutchess *dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Bucky’s crystalline eyes peer out into the early morning frost. White and ice. The only thing he has ever seen outside his window. He was promised so many things, and while some of those promises are just right outside his door, he feels further away than he’s ever been.

His chest rises and falls peacefully despite the irritation that courses through his blood, and he tries to keep it controlled. Control is something he’s been lacking. You just make him feel so feral. You breathe the possibility of a normal world without snow, and still you refuse him. Denying your fate, and the prophecy itself. But also him. It’s infuriating.

An arm lays over his body, and it takes everything inside Bucky to not recoil in anger. They were all wrong. Sex without feeling pleasure really isn’t even worth it. They meant nothing to him, apart from the need to quench his unsatiated desire, but they never do. Their scents were disgusting, cloying even. And this one in particular is becoming the bane of his existence.

Her hand roams further down his body, traveling so low that she grips the base of his soft cock. A deep rumble erupts out his mouth, and she doesn’t get the warning. Her lips start kissing over his naked back, although it’s more eating him with her open mouth, and disgusting saliva dampening his flesh. His breathing comes out in low growls. He wants her gone. Wants her hands off him.

She moans at the feeling of his heated skin. Not realizing the heat is emanating his anger. She annoyingly whines out, “Your highness,” before pulling him towards her, so he lays on his back, and her leg swings over his body. “Fuck me,” they always desire more the next morning, and he rarely gives in to them. He’s tired and has received nothing from her. “Come on, baby, fuck me.”

“No,” he answers simply, but she grinds down viciously, continuing her pleas. Bucky allows her another few rolls of her hips before an animalistic noise barks out, and he snaps his teeth. The woman scurries off his body, pulling her tattered clothes around her. “You may leave.”

Stunned, she looks at him oddly. He hates this kind of woman. “Go!” He shouts, throwing a blanket at her. “Get out!” Gathering up the blanket, she wraps it around her body before fleeing his chambers. Meeting Steve on the way out.

“I thought I told you to leave?” Bucky says with no emotion.

“You didn’t,” Bucky peeks his eyes open, and looks at his friend blankly. “Your princess is getting more irritable, and cold in her cage. I think it’s time to cover your body, and tend to her.”

“She won’t let me,” not in the way that he wanted to tend to you. You didn’t even want him anywhere near your body, much less allow him to show you some kindness. A stubborn mule.

Steve goes to the king’s closet before tossing a few things at him, “I didn’t say fuck her. I said tend to her. Do you honestly think a girl who has lived alone, survived alone, and was taught to fear us, and you particularly you, is going to get on her knees and beg you to fuck a baby in her?”

Bucky’s brow cocks up as he stretches in the bed. He throws two legs over the bed, and reaches towards his clothes, “It’d be much easier if she did.”

“And then she wouldn’t be who the prophecy talked about, now would she?” Bucky supposes Steve is right. Doesn’t mean he wished he could easily fulfill their destiny, and his undying need to breed. It was nothing but what his body yearned to do, find its mate. So he was told that is what his unique urges meant. Maybe everyone was wrong.

“A woman like that will need time,” time that really wasn’t available. The kingdom is growing weaker from hunger.

“Do you think we have the time?” He asks, pointing towards his windows.

“I don’t think we really have a choice,” Bucky’s gaze goes blurry. Staring at absolutely nothing, but letting the words set in. He is the sole person responsible for changing the world. Well, with your help. “I don’t think taking the time to get acquainted with her, and to give her time is a bad thing. You could do with a bit more humanity.”

Bucky snorts, stretching his aching bones again. Winter is bitter in so many ways. “Might I suggest the sacred garden?”

“No,” it’s premature to take you there. To give you a taste of what could be outside. You hadn’t earned that place yet. “She can go outside, and look at what was the garden,” Steve only shrugs as he opens the door. And Bucky walks to it, getting an eye full of you glaring up at him through furrowed brows.

“You appear cold, Lumi,” what you appear is irritated that some whore came out of his bedroom again. “Although the cold does make your nipples look especially delicious,” Bucky gets a knock in the back of his head from Steve, “I apologize for my outburst. Steve, go fetch Wanda, so she can get dressed.”

You didn’t want or need her to help you again. You are fully capable of getting yourself dressed. Unless it’s yet another layer upon layer of skirts. Lacing up a corset would pose some difficulties as well. Okay, maybe for this type of dressing you did need someone.

Bucky leans up against the opposite side of the hall, his cold eyes never stopping their assessment of you. “Do you have to stare at me like you’re going to be quizzed about my anatomy?”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“It’s fucking weird,” Bucky groans, but doesn’t stop looking at you. You’ve never had someone study you quite as hard as he is. He looks positively enthralled with you just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing but staring right back at him.

Wanda comes to you, her hands filled with skirts, and silks. Clearing her throat, Bucky at least turns around, giving you the tiniest bit of privacy, even though you’re in a hallway. Without speaking, you just allow Wanda to assist you in every aspect of getting dressed. Gone would be the pants, and ability to flee quickly. And even in this fortress of a castle, you didn’t have enough wits about you to get out of the winding maze.

A deep growl grows from Bucky’s chest, and you glance up to him. His face is reddened, and teeth baring, “Turn. The. Other. Way,” he grits, and you look over your shoulder to see a man retreating down the hallway.

“Wanda,” Bucky turns towards her as she pulls the silk dress over your head. Bending down, she straightens everything up before she stands upright to look at Bucky. “Have Steve bring the cage into my bedroom. I won’t have people coming up and viewing their future queen in such an intimate way.”

While you’re thankful, you want to roll your eyes. Wasn’t it him that had you on all fours, looking at your cunt while his court was in the same room? Maybe they were different. Wanda places the necklace that is actually Bucky’s leash for you over your neck before curtsying and leaving you and Bucky alone.

He surprises you by holding up a hand for you to take, and greedily, you accept. For as cold as you always are, Bucky’s hands are more like a crackling fire. Everything about him is warm. Except his cold eyes and demeanor. His body, and movements radiate heat. And while he’s alone with you, even his attitude isn’t quite so cold.

“You’re not the only one thrust into this prophecy, you know?” A decades old prophecy that had cursed your father, and family. And cursed Bucky. What a stupid curse to affect the entire kingdoms. Kingdom. Seeing how there’s only one now. “I didn’t want to marry you either.”

You scoff, looking over towards him, “I mean,” he stutters. Did you actually make him rethink his approach? “Imagine being told your whole life you were to marry someone you didn’t know. Imagine having this madness consume you as you searched the snow for one person. Wildlings are a bit more adept in the winter than most of us here. My people have become spoiled and lazy on how to protect themselves, relying only on the castle, and our army.”

“You’re using ‘they’ as if you’re not doing the same thing,” he huffs out of a laugh, and you wish he would tell you more. There’s more to Bucky than you initially thought. But his hot and cold behavior are more than you can stand. “What do you know about the life outside of these walls?”

“You’d be surprised. A king doesn’t just sit on his throne, while everyone else around him gets worked to the bones. No, I like to dive in and just be as big a part of something as my soldiers. Sometimes more,” you highly doubt that. You even doubted that Bucky went outside the castle city. He stayed inside the walls for protection. None of the wildlings were particularly fond of the king and his court. Not that they ever could control the wildlings. It’s a cruel and harsh world out there. Most just leave them to their devices.

“You doubt me. I’ve been further past the castle walls than most would believe. I’ve always had this ability to look completely different if I will it. Nobody ever wonders if it’s me,” it isn’t quite difficult to accomplish that. If he dressed in different clothes than his finery, then he would blend in with the crowd. “What was it like to live out there?”

“You live in constant fear,” Bucky’s gaze turns towards the front, ignoring you beside him. “Especially once my tribe was killed off. Malik was murdered, and I think I know why now. My mother — she died of pneumonia. Jarrod was the last to die, or maybe he lived. He fell through some ice, so I’m assuming He perished. Everyone else it was different things. We were nomads, so we were more vulnerable in ways.”

“Why were you nomads?”

He looks back towards you, and your mouth quirks up, “We were trying to avoid you,” you chuckle, realizing how stupid you had been. If you were always going to end up in his clutches, why run? Why allow yourself to waste away out there, becoming more weak. In here, you could fight back. “Seems pointless now.”

“Maybe that’s the way it was intended,” he swings open the door to a smaller more intimate dining area, waiting for you to enter first. He’s such a strange and difficult man. He’d almost be likable if it wasn’t his quick need to go completely feral with sexual comments.

You retreat into your mind as you think about the alternatives, weighing out the pros and cons of being here. With him. Who would you be if you decided to let destiny control your life? Could you kill Bucky? Would that end this stupid prophecy? Allow him to live long enough for winter to be over, and then kill him. That doesn’t sound like the worst idea. Not by a long shot.

“We should get some food in you. You need to gain weight,” for him to see if gaining weight would round you out enough for your first cycle. You’re not blind in his thinking. But if the food here is as good as it was the other night, it would be worth it.

You take a peek towards the king as he guides you through the icy gardens. It is unsettling. Frozen statues, and fountains. The trees are more of a shell than a living thing. Everything has a sharpness to it. Pointed lines where they should be soft and curved, instead now they had icicles growing off of them. Giving them a nearly demonic appearance.

Bucky walks quietly with you. His breathing constantly changes as he starts to say something to you, but then changes his mind. He’s been a bit strange since breakfast. Normally he never shuts up with his disgusting tongue, and now he can’t come up with the words to say.

“How did you remain chaste?” That didn’t last long. He seriously is a pig. “Especially when you were alone.”

“Do you think it was easy to not find company in a man?” His brows turn into hard lines as he stares at a frozen fountain. “You men are all the same. You can’t think straight when there’s warm flesh around you.”

“It sure beats the cold,” he mumbles more to himself, but you hear. You hear everything. “So you’ve never once thought about inviting some man into your tent with you?” You laugh, starting to walk away from him. He would open his mouth and ruin the somewhat nice morning.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sex has blinded you, Your Highness. You don’t think women are worth anything more than laying on their back, and taking your seed. Waiting for them to become round and full of you. Can you not look out here and see why that is the worst thing that you could possibly do? Why would I bring a child into this chaos of winter? Why would I allow myself the vulnerability to submit to some man.”

“You’d enjoy it,” you scoff, turning a corner, right into a frozen hedge maze. Sex could not be all that great, not when you had the consequences of raising a child in this cold hel. Bucky stays right on your heels. He breathes in deeply, and if you were a crazy person, you’d assume he was scenting you like a wild dog would. “Oh, you’d enjoy being on your knees as I fuck into your warmth. Your toes curling right as I hit that spot deep inside you that makes your eyes go cross, and your fingers can’t grab onto anything to steady you enough.”

“Just sex, hmm?” You’d heard that there is so much more than the physical activity of a man entering inside of you. You’d heard of men that feasted between a woman’s legs, while she goes outside of her body from blinding pleasure.

He snarls as he walks in front of you, sniffing up your body before you spin around and go down a different way in the maze. “What’s got you so riled up?” He spits out, but doesn’t follow you.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping to look over your shoulder. “What do you mean riled up?”

“I mean that your heart is speeding up,” you place a hand on your heart before you angrily walk faster. “That vein on your neck is pulsing just as quickly as the throb between your legs,” he didn’t know shit. He knew nothing about you.

“Oh, I see, you want romance. You don’t want to be the only one to submit. You want me down on my knees while I drink your essence. Have my tongue driving into your tight little hole before sucking on that pretty little clit,” you turn right, practically running to get away from him. “Would it be so bad to see me feasting on you like a starving wolf, while my eyes stare up at you like a helpless lamb?”

You wish he would shut up. He is clouding your brain and judgment, and you can’t think with his voice ringing in your ear. Turn left. Starting to pick up speed to get away from him, “I wouldn’t run if I were you.”

“Fuck you,” you flee. You run as fast as you can in these stupid skirts. Why were there so many layers? Why are you here alone? He could take you right here, right now, in this maze and nobody would be any the wiser. Left.

You peek over your shoulder, and see no one. Picking up your speed when you take another right. Running deeper and deeper into the center of the maze, and further from any exit or entrance. You need to be back in the castle. Back where there could be an audience, and they might stop Bucky. Away from him alone.

He’s wrong. “I’m not wrong, Lumi!” Fuck him. That was just luck. He had no idea what thoughts you had. You stop in the center of the maze, in a big round opening as you spin around. There are too many options on which way to go. It hurts your head to think about. Taking one step forward, Bucky lands in front of you like a wild man.

You cower backwards before ultimately falling on your ass. You hate him and his ability to humiliate you. “What are you doing?”

“You were going the wrong way,” you open your mouth to speak before he covers it. “If you say, ‘fuck you,’ again to me, I just might. Don’t tempt me. You’re a complete, and utter mess,” he lends you a hand, but you refuse it, and stand up on your own.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he circles around your body, his crystal eyes dark pools of lust. He bares his teeth as he sniffs you again.

“I can smell your pussy from here,” Bucky looks down at your body with the most devilish grin. “Don’t act like you don’t want me to rut into you like a dog. You’re quivering, slick, and swollen, and just so curious about what my cock will feel like in your cunt.”

“What would you know?” You ask him as he continues to circle around your body. A wolf playing with his food before he attacks. It’s haunting, and you try not to think about just how terrified you are.

“I know that you can try to deny who you’re destined to be. But you will fail. And you will let me mount you like the bitch in heat you are,” you glare at him, letting him walk around you again before he stands right in front of you. His stature towering over you.

“You’re disgusting,” you whisper, but his grin gets even more menacing.

“Yeah? Then what does that make you?” You didn’t fully understand what he meant by that comment. “I bet if I just settled my hand over you cunt, I could feel how hot you are. Aren’t you curious to know why your pussy is fluttering so much?”

Yeah, but you weren’t going to tell him that. “It’s who you were meant to be. Mine. Yeah, you’re making me completely feral with your refusal to mate with me. I’m going crazy here, smelling you, and feeling the vibrations off your pussy. You’re destined to be mine, and even your body knows that. It knows how amazing it will feel to have me buried so deep into you, there’s nothing that will separate us.”

He sniffs again, smiling when he looks down. You don’t know how he knows, or what it is he’s doing, but it hurts. There’s an ache so deep in your core that you squish your thighs together. Bouncing back and forth on your feet, and it offers you a little comfort. “What’s wrong princess? Is your body aching for friction?”

“Your words!” You scream, pushing at his chest, but he grabs your wrists, and pulls your body flush with his. “I hate you!” He settles your hand over his heart, and he’s just as hot and calm as ever. The beat steady, low, and barely there. He must be inhuman.

“Yes, while you’re heart is racing out of your chest, mine is soft. Are you jealous?” No. You’re infuriated that he has a hold of you. He flattens a hand on your chest, shushing you when he feels just how fast it is beating.

“I hate you,” you repeat. You hate him so much. You’re forced to be at his side for all eternity? Fuck that.

“I know you do, but I can offer you something that no one else ever has.”

“A cock? Several men have offered, and one even got his cut off,” Bucky’s maniacal chuckle echoes out into the icy garden before he bends his knee, and yanks you over his thigh. Hands on your hips he starts moving you over his leg, and you annoyingly sigh.

“Relief,” he’s such a cocky asshole, but this isn’t too bad. It’s quite nice, and you know you’re making yourself a fool in front of him, but this is the most relaxed you have ever felt. It’s the best you’ve ever felt as warmth builds up from the inside out. “Doesn’t that feel nice, Lumi?”

“Unfortunately,” he growls before he buries his face into your neck. His lips are so warm despite the frigid air outside. He softly kisses up your neck before nibbling right below your ear, and you whimper when he pierces the skin slightly. You claw at his arms to drive you harder over his extended leg. While it feels good, surely it could feel better.

“Now, imagine yourself sitting on my knee, facing me while I pinch those pretty little nipples of yours. Urging you to go harder and faster on my knee, while you make such a filthy mess of my leg. You’re such a desperate thing, in need of more pleasure than this. Your pent up energy has weakened you, and you don’t realize it it. Don’t you want that, princess? Don’t you want to feel this good all the time?”

“Uh huh,” idiot! Why did you whine and say that? You are stronger than the primal feeling burrowing into your gut, well, more like your pussy at this point. You have always fought this urge, and now you’re a blubbering idiot that can’t contain your pleasure. Chocolate is better than this. Okay, maybe not. But this is cruel. Sex is a basic instinct, and he’s using it against you.

“You’ll look so pretty swollen with my pups,” an odd name to call children. “Together we can end this dreadful winter.”

You have a duty to the world. You could end winter. You alone, well, and Bucky could end the suffering. Are you ready to relent? To give in to him? Him of all people? The world is spinning, and if this feels good, what would laying down with him feel like?

“Only if…” you begin, trying to catch your breath. Your voice is wrecked, and you can’t think clearly. You are not the whining girl that lays down with a man for protection. You have a duty. This man is ruining you, and your new clothes. “Ultimatum.”

He stops his movement, pushing you off his leg, and straightens himself up. You’re thankful a tiny bit about the halt, but you also whimper because you want to feel more. Cursing yourself for wanting to continue the movement.

“I’m listening,” he arrogantly says. You straighten out your skirts before standing up straight, and looking into his darkened eyes.

“No more whores,” he nods his head once. He’d been waiting on you to ask that of him, and he will gladly oblige. “We go at my pace, not yours.”

“You go very slow,” Bucky tsks. Time is of the essence. The world is blanketed in a blizzard, and you wanted to be romanced.

“We go at my pace!” It isn’t a yell, but you raise your voice enough. “And you make me fall for you.”

“Marriage isn’t about love, Lumi,” it could be. But maybe you didn’t possess the power to fall for him either.

Backwards thinking of the royals. “Is it purely about pleasure then?”

“It’s about expanding your family legacy. Not to mention ending this snow globe we’re in.”

“Fine. If you can’t make me fall for you, then you need to make me tolerate you enough. I won’t be disrespected by you. I won’t be just a slab of meat for you to fuck. I will be your equal. If both of us end this terrible winter, then I’m just as important as you are, and I’ll be treated as such,” he snarls, but nods his head. “And you can quit being so fucking cruel.”

“Is it cruel of me to give you some relief?” He thought he was being kind to you. You needed it. You need more.

“Cruel is showing my pussy off to your court. I don’t want that,” he smirks. You might have been slightly humiliated, but you also liked everyone staring at you as your king inspected you. “Cruel is smelling me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t smell so delicious. Your arousal is strong, and oh so sweet. You’re such a desperate little bitch that needs…” his fucking mouth!

“And can you quit talking like that? Ugh, you don’t make me want to fuck you, you repulse me when you call me a-a-a desperate little bitch.”

He chuckles, and nods his head. Is that so? “What’s so funny?”

“Because when I say it, and also when you say it, did you know that your heart rate peaks?” No it doesn’t. “It does. You’re curious. You want to know what it means. You want to not just take my cock, but also my,” he stops his words, and shakes his head. He walks right past you and back into the maze. His what?

“Well, lets go. It’s getting cold, and we have some sleeping arrangements to deal with.” We? “Yes, we. Your kennel can be put in my room, and maybe if you promise to behave, I’ll let you sleep in the bed with me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Hmm,” he shrugs, taking a right into the maze. No, you’d rather be on his knee while he coaxes you through your first orgasm.

“What?” He’s frustring you. Know-it-all.

“Wouldn’t you like to know how good grinding on my thigh would be with your bare pussy?” Yes. No. Ugh! He’s obnoxious. “I know I would. I’d love to see just how wet you get.”

“You’re talking disgusting again,” you remind him. This is only going to work if he doesn’t have his foul mouth.

“How about I make a deal?” You’d prefer it if he didn’t. “I can talk filthy when it’s just us. You can say what you want, too, princess, and your scent is getting that much sweeter. You’re heating up so fucking much. It’s delicious. I think you need to get out of your head. Let me privately offer you some relief.”

“Only if I ask for it or you,” he doesn’t quite enjoy that thought. He’d much rather have you be putty in his hands. But you can handle him. His filthy mouth is annoying if not invigorating. But maybe you can tame the beast that resides inside him. But even your white wolf didn’t act like this. Bucky always seemed like he was in a need to rut.

“Am I allowed a pet?”

“No,” he answers shortly. “There are to be no animals in the castle. We’re struggling to feed our people. We don’t need another mouth to feed.”

Hmm, he says that, but the wolf always finds a way to you. Bucky will just have to deal, or you might feed him to your wolf.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

@jesevans @alexakeyloveloki @bean-bean2000 @sebastians-love

#trying to save me #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfics #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #marvel #MCU

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 22 hours ago

Text

Meet the Family 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I'm feeling very Little Lies about this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"So this is the reason you missed Thanksgiving," a butter knife jabs in your direction as you poke at the white turkey meat; this? You look up then at Lloyd as he nearly chokes.

"Uh, yeah," he coughs behind his fist and swallows, "we were out of the country..."

"Yes, why would you bother to stay. No use in seeing your mother at the holidays, or the rest of your family," she reproaches.

"Mom," he groans.

"For ten years," William adds from his wife's side. "Now you show your face and you look as if you're eating rotten apples."

"No," Lloyd argues. "It's just... I'm busy and I don't get a lot of time away from work."

"We all have obligations," Gwenyth argues.

"Well, I took her away so I could propose," he explains as he presses his fork into the whipped potatoes. "And it worked out perfect, right? Cause now I can bring her to meet everyone."

Gwenyth hums flatly, "I suppose." She clicks her tongue and takes a healthy gulp of wine.

"So, Pixie," Lillian drawls from further down, "what do you do for work? Oh let me guess. A librarian?"

You don't let the suggestion bother you. You don't see it as an insult even if she says it like one. You shake your head.

"No, I--" you begin and Lloyd stomps your foot so you bite down on your voice.

"She is a corporate consultant. International corporation," he explains.

"Oh, wow, sounds busy," Gwenyth remarks.

"Yes, how will you have time for children?" Lillian challenges.

"I'm sure they'll find time to make them," Benson chortles over his snifter.

"Ben, please," William rebukes.

"We're focusing on the wedding before all that," Lloyd says.

You peer around as you chew your cheeks in frustration. You're annoyed by how they speak of you as if you're not even there, and so intimately. Yet, you don't have much to say for yourself. This whole facade is tiresome and you really don't care what they think about a made-up job. Or marriage, for that matter.

"That will be done with quickly," Gwenyth sniffs. "And she will need to quit that job if she wants to do her duty as your wife."

"I can handle a job and a husband," you blurt out.

The table quiets as if stunned that you can speak. You blink and Lloyd puts his fork down and touches your arm, "sweet pea--"

"I highly doubt you'd be marrying him for any other reason than that nest egg promised to him," Lillian scoffs. "You don't need to play a saint with us, darling. Marriage is a transaction in more ways than one; affection, money, sex--"

"Lilly," William warns and she laughs.

"Well?" She shrugs. "You do know, the wedding only guarantees a twenty percent payout. He needs an heir to get all of it." She pets her stomach smugly and smiles. "I can assure you it's well worth it. Once you meet Lorelai, you'll see."

"Oh? Maybe when you meet her, you'll consider being a mother too," Lloyd retorts.

"Excuse me?" Lillian snarls. "I love my daughter."

"Of course you so," he sneers. "I'm sure she feels all that love right now as she enjoys her turkey and carrots with the nanny."

"I can't have her around adults and alcohol. You can't possibly understand," she snaps. "And maybe it's better that you never do. I could never imagine you as a father, especially when you are such a child."

"Takes one to know one," Lloyd growls.

"Enough," William barks. "Both of you."

Ransom laughs loudly at the end of the table. Lloyd shifts and Lillian rolls her eyes. You sigh at your plate. You miss your family. For the first time in years, you truly miss them.

"What the hell are you laughing at, Hugh? The only reason you're here is because your grandpappy exiled you."

Linda gasps, "He's not exiled--"

"Oh, right, of course not, Lin, that's why you're here breaking bread with the peasants. That's what you called us at great grandmother's wake--"

"Lloyd, watch your mouth," William snarls. "Better yet, shut it."

Lloyd recoils in his chair and stiffens. His features sharpen then he lowers his chin and picks up his fork. His jaw is stone as he stirs the gravy into his potatoes. You wouldn't call him humbled, more whipped like a dog. These people make you feel something for him you never thought you could; sympathy.

"I don't care about money that much," you say. "It can't buy respect. Besides, I would never marry a man without a prenup. Whatever Lloyd has will remain his." You push your shoulders back as a yawn tickles in your throat. "At this point, he can keep you lot as well."

You stand up and take the cloth napkin from your lap. You fold it neatly, "Gwenyth, you can tell whoever cooked dinner that it was delicious. I appreciate you all having me but I'm going to go find a hotel and some peace." You step around the chair and push it into the table, "happy holidays."

You turn, your insides jittering. What are you doing? Where did that come from? You could say you're tired and not thinking straight, but honestly, you're just so repulsed by these people that your head could explode. They're lucky they only got a a few pieces of shrapnel.

You march out without looking back. Your cheeks tinge hotly with self-awareness. You've messed it all up. After years of harnessing your emotions under Hansen's thumb, you finally snapped. You blew it all.

"What she said," another chair scrapes as Lloyd speaks. "Mom, dad, good night."

You enter the hall and head for the entry way. You hear him beside you. You're still foggy with disbelief. It isn't until you sit to put on your boots that you notice Lloyd.

"I know, I'm done. Fired." You pull on your leather booties. "I'll take the severance and figure it out."

"I didn't say so," he says as he grabs a coat from the closet.

"Um..."

"You're completely right. We can't stay here. They're all a bunch of pricks and they wonder why I didn't come home for ten years," he pulls on his coat as he speaks. He pushes back his hair then smooths his mustache. "We're better off at the hotel. We'll sleep better there--"

"We? Lloyd, please. Stay with your family. I need space," you stand and reach past him for your jacket. "Besides, I booked a single queen and it's Christmas Eve."

"Queen's big enough. You're tiny--"

"Okay, no, no," you hiss. "It's not happening. Stay--"

"But I don't want to," he whines.

"Mr. Hansen," you say. "You're out of your mind."

"Well, after your blow up, I don't think I'm welcome," he puts his hand on his hip. "So this is your last chance to save your job. You made the mess, you clean it up."

"Me?" You exclaim.

He hushes you and step closer, "Pix, you already made a scene, let's not do the encore. I'm gonna grab my bags, alright?"

"You can't be serious." You say.

"Hey, I gotta play the loyal husband--"

"And why exactly is that necessary? Why couldn't you get one of those Tinder girls?"

"Woah, woah, come on, someone will hear you," he covers your mouth with his hand and you turn your face away with a blech. "Go warm up the car. We'll talk on the ride to the hotel."

You stare at him. He watches you, as uncertain as you've ever seen him. In the silence, you can hear the din in the other room.

"Always was such a baby," Lillian laughs venomously.

"He could've chosen someone without an iron spine," Gwenyth adds.

You grimace and throw your hands up, "fine, get your things."

"You're the best," he grabs your shoulders but before he can kiss you, you put your hand up to pinch his nose. He recoils and rubs the tip, "ow."

"No more of that," you say as you pull your keys out of your pocket. "Thank god I only had one glass of wine."

You stomp out the front door. The frigid winter air hits you like a bus. Once one even ground, the swirling snow flecks onto your shoulders and hair. Great, now you get to drive in the snow with an unwanted passenger.

You get in the driver seat and push the ignition. You turn on the heater and the heated seats. At least Hansen pays enough for the add-ons. Still, you’re not sure there’s any compensation equal to what you just went through.

You look over as the front door opens and closes. Lloyd rolls a giant suitcase with him, another smaller bag strapped on top, and a third in his other hand. You don’t move as you watch him descend the steps, easing the wheels over the edge one-by-one.

He comes down the long walk and jerks as his loafers slip on the icy pavement. It would be funny if you weren’t so damn exhausted. You steadies himself and continues on. You should get out and help him. You don’t.

You pop the trunk with the button. He loads in his bags as you check the rear view. He comes around the passenger side and pulls the door open. He lets out an obnoxious ‘brrrr’ as he drops into the seat next to you. You shift gears as he shuts the door.

“Ugh, I feel so much better getting out of there,” he says as he adjusts the seat, making room for his long legs.

“Why?”

“Um, why not? My family is the worst--”

“No, why did you drag me into this?” You ask as you lean into the wheel and squint over it. The dark, the snow, the unplowed roads, it’s like the universe can’t stop throwing you obstacles.

“You want the real answer or the nice answer?” He replies.

“Mr. Hansen,” you growl.

“Right, I had no other choice.”

“No other choice?” You repeat.

“Look, those long-legged beauties back home, they’re fun, but they don’t got much else going on. I needed someone who could play along,” he explains.

“Play along?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re smart so--”

“I’m smart...”

“I wouldn’t hire you if you weren’t--”

“Jeez, wow, Mr. Hansen, thank you so much. You think I’m so smart, so you should know I’m smart enough to know better than to believe you. You think I’m desperate,” you turn slowly onto the next street. “You think I have nothing else going on.”

“No, that’s not--” he shifts in his seat.

“It’s exactly what you think,” you huff. “Well, I do. I have a flight in...” you pause and check the time on the dash, “five hours so when we get to the hotel, I’m going to sleep and you’re going to let me. Then I’m going to catch my flight and the curtain can be pulled on this whole theatre.”

“Your words, not mine. I don’t think you’re desperate.”

You don’t respond. You’re tired. He just can’t leave things alone. He always has to say something. You wonder if he was truly left to his own thoughts, if his head would combust.

“I’m actually impressed,” you says, “you held your own.”

“Sir,” you utter.

“It was good. Entertaining. I mean, all these years, you never once talked back to me but wow, that was... majestic, really. You didn’t even wait to see my mother’s face. Or my sister’s.”

“Your family is weird,” you blurt out. “Sorry, uh, I didn’t mean--”

“I mean, yeah, we probably are but I don’t really have anything to compare it to,” he says.

You nod. He has a point. Yet, while that horde of entitled brats might explain his personality, it can’t excuse it.

The hotel’s marquee shines like a beacon as you steer into the lot. You yawn and shut off the engine. You let yourself out and drag your feet around to the trunk. You take out your carry-on as Lloyd hovers at the other side.

“All of your stuff, out,” you say. “I’m going straight to the airport in the morning. Checkout is ten so as long your gone by then, I don’t care what you do.”

He’s quiet but he obeys. He takes his bags out and sets them on the ground. He pulls the rolling bag and slings his smallest bag on his shoulder. You snap the trunk shut and turn, shuffling across the icy tarmac.

You enter through the automatic doors and cross the desolate lobby. You check in with your ID but as you look for your credit card, Lloyd flicks his between his fingers and offers it up to the clerk.

“It’s on me,” he insists.

You won’t argue. You really don’t trust him to leave by checkout. As you head for the elevators, he takes a deep breath. He doesn’t speak until you’re behind the sliding doors of the compartment.

“You know, I’m still your boss so you can’t just order me around,” he says.

You glance over at him. “Right, won’t happen again, sir.”

“It could have been worse, you know? I could’ve actually had you come all the way out here just to drop off some gifts. If you think about it, you got a free dinner and some wine--”

“Yeah, it was a great time,” you say dryly. “Mr. Hansen, I’m too tired to lie any more. Tonight was one of the worst nights of my life so no, I don’t think it could be worse.”

The doors open and you stride out. You swipe the card at the door corresponding to the number written in the folio and let yourself in. He follows closely, nearly running over your heels with his suitcase.

You take your bag to the bed and take out the cotton pajamas stuffed inside just for tonight. You bring them with you into the bedroom, doing your best to ignore your guest. Lloyd wanders along the wall and finds his way to the mini fridge.

You’re in no rush to change, only to get to bed. You trade your dress and stockings for the cotton two-piece and emerge. You shove your bag and clothes beside the night table and slide under the blankets. You pull them up to your shoulders.

“They got wine, tequila, beer--”

“I’m going to sleep,” you insist.

“The alcohol will help.”

“No, it will make waking up even harder.”

“After tonight, I think you need a shot.”

“Mr. Hansen,” you grumble and cover your head.

“Fine, more for me.” He snickers.

You’re happy he can’t see the irritation on your face. You might just be better off to let him drink whatever. Eventually, he’ll have to pass out. At least, you can only hope he does.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #meet the family #the gray man

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moonshynecybin · 9 hours ago

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I’ve only been into/started following MotoGP for a few months. Can I ask how exactly did Marc getting the Ducati seat go down? I’ve seen references of it being jorge messing up/rejecting the seat and that somehow leading to Marc masterminding his way to it but don’t fully get it. Thank you :))))

lmao it was awesome. under the cut shes crazy shes long shes the war of the roses shes game of thrones shes ducati being fucking STUPID !!!!!

okay so the beginning of this season going towards the middle was like. genuinely dominated by discussion of who would end up with the second factory ducati seat, and there were 3 main candidates for the position: 1. enea bastianini, who had the seat but who had had a spotty 2023 marred by injury and was delivering inconsistent results in the early part of 2024, 2. jorge martin, who had been basically promised the seat ahead of them uno reversing and signing enea, and who had contended for the title the year before/was leading the world championship early in 2024, and 3. marc marquez, 8 time world champion and arguable GOAT of the sport, who was doing insane comeback rides on a year old bike that he had very little time to adapt to. on pure results, you would have to go with martin (it was p clear it wasnt going to be my girl enea....), but marc looked uh. very promising and very dangerous (apparently his data, ESPECIALLY in the left handers, was like. bonkers), and who was also undeniably a better business asset to ducati as a company trying to sell motorbikes. and as we all knowwwwww, ducati had BY FARRRR the most dominant bike on the grid, so they are staring down the barrel of like. deciding between three excellent riders for one, extremely coveted seat. they think they hold all the cards here, and after a bit of rampant speculation the ducati bosses say everybody calm the fuck down we will make a decision about the gp25 seat at MUGELLO. forza. and with that the stage is set.

but again. ducati had basically promised jorge martin that seat. in fact, there was a provision in his contract that said if he won the world title in 2023, he would automatically be promoted to the factory team. like if marc doesnt come in on his merry way essentially doing a year long AUDITION for that seat up-to and including crowd-commanding theatrics, then it is undeniably martin's bike to have. and it looks like ducati kinda thought they should honor that too! because it was reported (unofficially but through a multitude of reliable sources) on the thursday before mugello that jorge martin WOULD be signing with the factory ducati team to be in red for 2025 IMMINENTLY. and he shows up to the presscon with the moon shinging out of his ass and we didnt rlly have a reason to doubt him so things are looking pretty locked up tbh

so another piece of the puzzle. for the last few years one cog in the wheel of ducati's dominance has been them having EIGHT bikes on the grid, and as such having insane amounts of data to comb through and synthesize while developing the bike. at the time, the team with the most factory support is pramac racing. but YAMAHA have made a promise to a young shirtless man named fabio quartararo that they will get a satellite team for 2024 to help with THEIR efforts, and pramac's contract with ducati is expiring so theyre the top choice. yamaha offers them a fuck you amount of cash and full factory support to leave ducati and come run the M1s with them. and the thing is, it is EXPENSIVE to run an independent team and this sugar daddy style deal would essentially lock down their immediate future quite nicely, so they are thinking HARD about this— because if they lose jorge martin like. what the fuck are they doing not taking that deal. and YOU are asking me girl what the fuck does this had to do with marc marquez WELLLLL. ducati know that marc wants a gp25. and pramac has the factory spec bikes. and marc's famous ass is a VERY valuable little bargaining chip in their eyes. so ducati APPARENTLY wanted marc on the same deal jorge martin was on (complete with the promise of factory promotion if he won the championship) at PRAMAC in order to keep marc, jorge martin, and pramac all under the umbrella of ducati racing. they think problem solved :) we get to keep everything and everyone :) marc gets a current spec bike, jorge gets to be on the factory team, and we can still run eight bikes :) awesome.

WELL! marc catches wind of all of this and goes. fuck you i want to be a factory rider on a gp25. like why on earth would he move from busted satellite team to busted satellite team that doesnt even have his BROTHER ? so instead of keeping all of these negotiations behind closed doors he trots right the fuck up to the press at mugello and says hello yes i have ABSOLUTELY no intention of riding for pramac, in fact i only have the intention of riding with factory teams. big smile. fuck you. press run wild. domino tipped. pramac pissed off. ducati SWEATING.

AND i guess the ducati CEO (claudioooooo) was there. and some big sponsorship guys (audiiiiiii) were there. and it has been LONG been reported that gigi daligna really wanted marc for that seat (and that pecco REALLY didnt lmao). like bad. some would say carnally. and then i guess they looked at his data. and thought about how well he had already adapted to the gp23. and how badly he was beating bez and company. and i suppose the idea of actually losing marc and him going to a KTM or an aprilia scared the actual genuine NIPS off of these guys and literally by sunday night they had apparently called jorge martin to let him know that it wasnt going to be him and he went over to aleix and got that aprilia contract signed genuinely immediately (and enea later signed with ktm and pramac with yamaha). so the aprilia news was announced on monday and we knew marc was the choice from that, and then they announced it officially in the dumbest smuggest little video of all time a lil while after. but not before marc took a selfie in a shirt that said FACTORY PILOT that he later lied about and said wasnt on purpose. king. done and dusted. insanity.

so to recap: in the course of four days, marc essentially pulled a coup out of thin air by just. deciding to exercise some muscle with the press, which caused ducati to lose two bikes, secured the best seat on the grid for himself, and made sure that two of the riders that finished top four in this year's championship (including the CHAMPION) are on much worse machines going into next year. like he literally created the best possible outcome for himself by virtue of his reputation, media savvy, and sheer force of will. it was absolute crazy shit and SO much fun to watch play out live

#go back and listen to the oxley bom pod from mugello you will get most of this background info. the climate on the dash however #that will have to live on in my heart #motogp #callie speaks #asks #in terms of jorge flubbing its a theory that it was his camp that leaked him maybe getting the seat EARLY #which spurred marc into action and turned ducati off him a bit. but thats just a rumor

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blissfullyecho · 23 hours ago

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My Skinny Tips for the Holidays

If you’re in the US, Thanksgiving is this week and next month begins all the holiday parties and events for Christmas, Hanakkuh, Kawanzaa, and all other winter holidays that will include a ton of processed and sugary foods, seasonal coffee’s and fun drinks, and alcohol.

A note for the dieting police out there: Don’t even try it with me.

How I Manage the Holidays + My Body

So generally during November and December, I eat very clean (except for the holidays). I allow myself a Thanksgiving plate with everything (literally everything), dessert, sugary fun drinks/alcohol, and leftovers. This is the same thing I do with Christmas dinner as well. I don’t limit what I eat on the actual holidays, but the other days I do.

How I Eat on Non-Holiday Days

So like I said, I eat very clean in Nov and Dec because I know it’s going to get crazy on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day. So I stick to eating mostly vegetables, soup, and lean protein. I actually stop drinking smoothies this time because I’d rather eat my protein than drink it so I’m not feeling hungry so soon. I get hungry faster when I drink a smoothie than I do with actually eating, so I eat more (just sticking with veggies, soup, and lots of lean protein). I do cut back heavily on bread, rice, and pasta; but my main source of carbs comes from fruit, sweet potatoes, and corn (corn is carb-heavy). I also cut OUT added sugars. I read the label on everything. 0g of added sugar is what I get. Like I said, I still indulge on whatever I want during the actual holiday meal which are things loaded in sugar, so I cut back for the month. And for everyone saying “it’s restricting” … babe, respectfully, shut up. Cutting out added sugar that does nothing for you except make you crash, bloated, ruin your gut lining, decrease collagen production, can increase your A1C (diabetes risk), and turns straight to fat is not restricting. You’re gonna have that stuff on the holidays— you can cut it out for 3 weeks, I promise.

Managing Holiday Office Parties & Community Events

I still enjoy the office potlucks and other mini events because I usually reach for the protein options instead or the veggie options. I’ll have the turkey, the ham, the deviled eggs (deviled eggs hate to see me coming), the cranberry chicken salad, etc. I still enjoy myself, I’ll just not have the pumpkin pie, the Mac and cheese, the stuffing, etc. because I’m saving that for my actual Thanksgiving/Christmas meal. Also… I do not trust other people cooking for me unless I’m there watching things happen. I don’t know what goes on at your house lol.

… But what if Paula from HR brought in her world famous (insert sugary, fatty, super processed, but super yummy food here)?

I’m most definitely going to have something if it’s something I can’t get anywhere else. If there is something that I know looks good (or is actually good) and I’m not gonna have it at my Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, then I’ll have some. I don’t say no because it’s not part of my “diet”. There’s this girl I used to work with and she would bring in these cheesy, turkey, apple, and cranberry sliders. They were SO GOOD. I would have 1 slider and then load up on the celery and other veggies or fruit.

Alcohol

I’m not drinking alcohol unless it’s Thanksgiving, Christmas, or NYE. That’s just a no go for me. When I drink, I like to drink socially. But there’s 3 days for the rest of the year where I’m going to be drinking all night, so I don’t have any alcohol unless it’s the day of the holiday.

Bring in a healthy side option

For my office potluck, I’m making a fruit bowl, a veggie plate, and a large charcuterie board. My work bestie and I will prob be the only ones picking off of the veggie plate, but at least we do have options to load up on in case Paula from HR brings in that delicious yummy option and we want a full plate of food like everyone else.

If I’m going to have it on Thanksgiving or Christmas, I’m not going to have it anywhere else (unless it’s protein)

I will skip the sweet potato casserole and the macaroni and cheese because I’m going to have it on my Thanksgiving and Christmas. Again, I don’t care for home cooking unless I was there watching you cook for me (or if you’re a cute old lady or a grandma, I trust them so much). But the point is, I’m not going to have 8 Thanksgiving dinners this month. I’ll have one with my family and that’s it. I’m not even doing a Friendsgiving this year (but that’s only because we’re all traveling or working). But the main reason we gain weight during the holidays isn’t because we have a treat or two, it’s because we are having a Thanksgiving or Christmas meal every 2 seconds.

What’s on my Thanksgiving/Christmas plate?

I eat whatever I want, but I’ll only have a plate and a slice of dessert. I don’t get seconds or thirds. I’m a one plate girly and that’s it but I load my plate with everything and I give myself solid amounts. I don’t put tiny scoops of anything on my plate. I’d rather have food on my plate that I can’t finish rather than me cleaning my plate because I didn’t put enough of anything on there and still feeling hungry and restricted. I want to enjoy myself with my family. Thanksgiving and Christmas isn’t the time to feel restricted. For dessert, I’ll have a slice of a dessert. This year I’m being told we’re having pumpkin pie and Dutch apple pie, which are both my favorites. So I’m going to have HALF a slice of pumpkin pie and HALF a slice of the apple pie and it’ll equal to one full slice. With alcohol, I’m always drinking water. I actually drink water with my meal and drink alcohol around the meal. I personally like to stick to red wine.

How do I handle leftovers?

My family likes to give the kids (which would be me, my sibling, and our cousins) the leftovers so we can take it home. I try to take most of the protein, green bean casserole (my all-time fav omg), and deviled eggs (my grandmother makes the best, it’s impossible to beat her tbh) whereas my sibling and our cousins like to take the macaroni, garlic mash, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, and the other foods.

Exercise

I’m exercising everyday. Even on Thanksgiving and Christmas I’m exercising. I have my own routine but on Thanksgiving and Christmas, I’ll also be doing a hot (plump) girl walk after my meals to help my food digest. But even on my rest days, I’m doing active recovery.

The whole month isn’t a holiday.

I think you just have to manage the holidays by reminding yourself that’s it’s not Christmas or Thanksgiving everyday. You don’t need a full Christmas or Thanksgiving plate each day. Still enjoy the fun Starbucks drinks or Kelly from the marketing department’s apple pie, but order the tall Starbucks and not the grande or venti. Have a slice of the pie and not 1/3 of the pie. Don’t eat the candy on the table that you don’t really care for but it’s within reach so you eat it anyway. Save that for something you actually do like.

…And for anyone who is going to rage type a weird message saying I’m promoting anything unhealthy, please save yourself the time.

Happy Holidays! 🤍

✨ My new book “The Luxe Girl’s Playbook” is available now (this is the link). It’s about going into 2025 a brand new, leveled up version of yourself mentally and how you can make everyone that doubted you absolutely sickkkkk. It’s the mental diet we all need. It’ll be unavailable mid-December 2024 🫶🏼

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pedrosgrogu · 2 days ago

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Born Too Late - Chapter 5

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Warnings: MDNI!!! SMUT (2 chapters in a row :0.. So much for slow burn), age gap, no use of y/n, i think thats it fr, dirty talk, unprotected p in v (be smart yall, wrap it up) lemme know if i missed something :)

Summary: Sarah's conference is this week and seeing Joel is not on your list of things you want to do. Then he invites you over to talk. You need to set the boundary now, what could go wrong? (1.6k+)

a/n: i tried to write a lil more than usual bc i feel bad about inconsistent posting. (shoutout no personal life bc work/school) hopefully with winter break i can post a couple times a week. also trying to figure out how to make a taglist so if you want to be notified of new chapters, lmk!! If you have any suggestions, give em to a girl. i love to see/hear feedback :) <3

Yet again, you’re avoiding Joel like the plague. You have an unknown amount of missed calls from him. You also have conferences today. This means you have to see him, and you feel like you could throw up. He’s your last one at 5:30 p.m. The day goes by slowly, and you have lunch duty so you don’t have time to finish planning your conference notes. After lunch is the worst part of the day. Kids are tired and barely give a shit, but you have a couple good ones that you try to focus on. Sarah being one of them. The 2:30 bell rings and by 2:40 your class is empty. Conferences start at 3:30 so you finish your notes and try to eat your lunch but that sinking feeling is still there.

By 5:15, you’ve talked to so many parents that they’re all starting to blur. You’re exhausted and would rather be quite literally anywhere else by now. You gather Sarah's notes and sit them on the table, one stack in front of you and a copy of your stack in front of where Joel will sit. Sarah really enjoys a select few books from your classroom library so you sit them on her desk for her in case she's with Joel.

Before you see him, you smell him. The air in your classroom fills with hints of cedarwood and lavender. You look up and Sarah is already at her desk looking at the books. You stand to greet Joel. “Good Evening Mr. Miller” you reach to shake his hand but he doesn't move, he is staring right through you. “Sweet girl, you don't have to call me that.” He says, still staring. You smile and invite him to sit. “So” you start “Sarah is doing phenomenal, she loves to read and write, and is always very engaged. I pulled a few samples of her writings from the last couple weeks so you could read them. They’re the first sheets inside your fold-” “Babygirl” he says gruffly “I know my daughter, and she has excelled and exceeded every year. I'm here for you. Why have you been avoiding me?” You look at him, wide eyed. Half wanting to laugh and half wanting to cry. Your door is open and anyone could walk by and hear him, Sarah could hear him. “Joel I promise I'm not trying to avoid you” you say quietly, lying straight through your teeth. And he knows it. You stand up and walk to close the door and can feel his eyes burning through you. “I just dont think-” “I've called you more times than I can count, and you aint returned a single one. Shit baby, your bra is still on my bedroom floor. Taunting me every night.” You can feel the warmth begin to rise on your face, and between your legs. “Mr.Miller, now is not the time or the place for this conversation. If we could please get back to Sarah.” He looks at you, deadpan. “Alright, come to my house tomorrow night at 8. Sarah will be with her mom for the weekend.” Internally, you groan. Externally, “Yes sir”. You watch him stir in his chair at your words, repositioning himself.

The rest of the conference goes well, Sarah reads some of her writings to her dad, and shows him her favorite books. He asks her so many questions about her work and she is extremely detailed in every answer. He seems like a great dad, and it puts him in a different light for you. Now he isn't only hot, and great at sex, and great at aftercare, but he's a good dad. You are so fucked.

Friday comes and goes, yet again you're exhausted. You take a steaming shower when you get home. Shaving your legs, just because. NOT for Joel. Once out of the shower, you change into a pair of blue biker shorts and an oversized Texans crewneck. You throw your hair up in a bun and make yourself some coffee. Hoping the coffee will help combat the sleepiness, you throw yourself onto the couch and turn on some Grey's Anatomy reruns, and begin to drift into a nap. You try to fight it, but it's inevitable.

You wake up to your phone ringing. You check the time. 8:17. “Shit” you grumble. You flip your phone open without even checking the caller ID. “Hello?” you say, groggily. “There's my sweet girl.” He says, pausing briefly. “You’re late. Better get here fast, dinners gonna be cold.” And before you can get a word out, Joel hangs up. “Fuck fuck FUCK.” You say, frustratedly. This has gone too far, and god forbid your work gets wind of this disaster. You’d be screwed. You throw your shoes on and walk next door.

Joel opens the door right as you walk up the steps. The smells instantly take you back to that morning. You still remember how he felt inside you, how his lips felt on yours, how his hand fit around your neck so perfectly how- “You gonna come in or you just gon’ stand there?” Joel snaps you out of your trance. You follow him the rest of the way in, kicking your shoes off at the door this time. “I made spaghetti with garlic bread. Stuck it in the oven to stay warm since you tried to stand me up.” He says, grinning. “Joel look” you start, “I really appreciate this, and I really had a” “Sit down and eat. We can talk after.” He says, pulling a chair out. He walks around to the fridge, opening the door. You can't stop staring at him. His shoulders so broad, and biceps borderline busting out of his shirt. You’re in a trance. “Red or white?” he says, but you don't hear him. You’re too busy eye fucking him, completely forgetting that the only reason you’re here is to end this before it starts. He turns around and sees you still looking straight through him, undressing him with your eyes. He grins a devilish grin and you snap back to reality. “Huh? Sorry I was-” “No need to explain, I asked if you wanted red or white wine?” he says, grinning “Oh.. ummm.. White please!” He sits the glass next to you, along with your plate of food.

Dinner goes well, you talk about Sarah and how great of a student she is. You realize Joel could go on and on about her, because he does. Before you know it, its 10:00 and you're fighting sleep again. But this conversation needs to happen. You gather the plates and wine glasses and begin doing the dishes. “Darlin’ don't worry about those. I can do them in the morning.” “Joel, we need to talk.” You say, hoping it doesn't come off too harsh. You turn the sink off and dry your hands. “Joel, I had a lot of fun a few weeks ago. But I don’t think-” he cuts you off. “Why’re you thinkin’ baby? Thinkin’ don’t never lead to nothin’ good.” He says, wrapping his hands around your waist. As much as you don’t want to, you lean into his grip. “Joel, please.” you almost moan. “I don’t want to get in trouble at work, it's a huge ethical misconduct if the school were to ever find out, especially since Sarah is in my class.” He’s kissing up your neck, and you aren't doing anything to stop him. “I just want to taste you, just one more time.” He groans into your ear, nibbling on the tip. “This has to be the last time.” you think to yourself.

You don't fight it, you give in. And you enjoy every second of it. Joel picks you up and lays you on the table. The same table you just had dinner on. Your shorts are thrown across the room and your sweatshirt is being used as back support. He’s devouring every inch of your body. Leaving bite marks in unseen places. You hear his belt hit the floor and watch his shirt peel off of his body. You moan at the sight. He lines himself up with your aching cunt. “What was all that earlier about you gettin’ in trouble at work?” he says, comically. “Joel, please not-” and before you can squeak the rest of your sentence out, he's ramming his cock inside you. Over and over. “What's wrong baby? Can’t speak?” he says, laughing. Hes fucking you so hard that the goddamn table is moving. “I need something more stable.” He grunts, picking you up and throwing you on the island, his cock never leaving inside of you. He rubs vigorous circles around your clit, watching your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Dont. Stop. Joel.” You manage to say in between breaths. “I don’t ever plan to babygirl.” He says, rubbing faster. Your release is on the horizon. Everythings gone white and all you can focus on is the sound of skin slapping skin. Your back arches and you scream with pleasure. “Let it out babygirl, cum for me.” Just as you begin to come down, you feel Joel's cock tense up inside you, and he falls to your ear, moaning. He pulls out and you moan gutteraly. You feel the warmth of his seed dripping Yet again, he disappears and reappears with a warm washcloth. Cleaning and kissing every inch of your body.

You get cleaned up and dressed. Joel puts on a pair of sweatpants, no shirt. You could go for round 2 but 2 times is 2 too many. You begin to put your shoes on. “Darlin’, why don't you stay the night?” You instantly get nauseous, and feel tears? Maybe? You barely know this guy, what the fuck? “Joel, I told you. This cannot happen. Not again.” You say, trembling. “We can-” You cut him off. “No more Joel.” and you open the door and walk out. Leaving him just as quickly as you found him.

Masterlist - Chapter 4

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #last of us #neighbor joel x reader #neighbor joel #cliffhanger #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us #neighbor!joel #joel x reader #daddy joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #my writing #tlou #joel tlou

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snowysosturn · 13 hours ago

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Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, funeral setting

Y/n’s POV

The soft chime of the bell above the bridal studio’s door signals the end of my shift. I tidy up the counter, brush a few stray threads from my clothes, and grab my bag. It’s been a long day of fittings and consultations, but my excitement about tonight keeps me energized.

Chris is meeting my parents tonight. The thought alone sends a nervous flutter through my stomach, but it’s a good kind of nervous.

On my way out, I stop by the cafe down the street to grab two lattes and a croissant for Willow. It’s become something of a tradition to visit her after my shifts, especially when I need a pep talk. With everything going on tonight, I need her calming advice more than ever.

Willow’s apartment is buzzing with energy when I arrive. She’s blasting music in the kitchen while unpacking groceries, a pair of fluffy slippers on her feet.

“You’re a lifesaver” she says, grabbing the coffee from my hand and taking a sip. “Ugh, perfect. Come in, sit!”

I settle onto her couch, pulling the croissant out of the bag and sliding it across the table to her. “Figured you could use this.”

“You know me too well” she says with a grin, taking a bite.

As she eats, I fill her in on the news. “So.. my parents are meeting my boyfriend tonight.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “BOYFRIEND?!”

I nod, though the flutter of nerves in my chest betrays me. “Yeah, it feels right. I mean, he’s really trying, you know? So he’s coming over for dinner.”

Willow leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studies me. “How’s he doing after today, though? With the funeral and all?”

I freeze mid sip of my coffee. “Funeral?”

Her expression shifts, suddenly cautious. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

I shake my head, my mind racing. Why didn’t he mention this? Now I feel stupid.

“Yeah” Willow continues, her voice softer now. “I heard it was today, Chris must’ve been there.”

I nod slowly, unsure how to process this new information. A funeral. A funeral. And he hadn’t said a word to me about it.

Part of me feels hurt, like I’ve been left out of something important. But the other part of me, the rational part, knows why he didn’t tell me. He’s trying to protect me, to keep me away from the darker parts of his world.

Still, it stings.

Willow must notice the shift in my expression because she reaches over and places a hand on my arm. “Hey, don’t overthink it. Chris probably didn’t want to stress you out with everything going on. He’s dealing with a lot.”

“I know” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. “It’s just.. I want him to feel like he can tell me these things, you know?”

Willow nods, her eyes sympathetic. “You’re in a tricky spot, Y/n. But he’ll come around. Just give it time.”

I glance at my phone and realize how late it’s gotten. “Shit, I need to get going. I have a million things to prep before dinner.”

Willow grins, her mood lifting again. “Go knock em dead. And text me after, I need all the details.”

“You’ll be the first to know” I promise, grabbing my bag and heading for the door.

As I start the journey home, my mind is buzzing with thoughts. Chris and I have come so far, but there’s still so much I don’t know about his life. Maybe tonight will be a step toward bridging that gap.

When I get to my house, I take a deep breath. Time to focus. Tonight isn’t just about meeting my parents, it’s about taking the next step, together.

Chris’ POV

The air outside the church was heavy, the kind of suffocating weight that sticks with you after saying goodbye to someone you cared about. Nate and I stood in silence as the crowd dispersed, the murmurs of the attempted hit at the funeral still fresh in my mind.

“You hear that shit?” Nate finally spoke, his voice low but brimming with anger. His jaw was clenched tight, and his hands balled into fists at his sides.

I nodded, keeping my gaze on the ground. “Yeah, I heard. It’s messed up, man. Who does that at a funeral?”

“It’s more than messed up” Nate snapped, turning toward me. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, but now they burned with rage. “It’s a straight up declaration of war. At Danny’s funeral, Chris. Do you understand what that means?”

I did, and it made my stomach churn. Whoever tried to pull this off wasn’t just sending a message they were escalating things in the dirtiest way possible. It wasn’t just about Crimson and H-Block anymore, it was personal.

“What do you wanna do?” I asked carefully, knowing full well Nate was on the verge of boiling over.

“What do I wanna do?” he repeated, his voice rising. “I wanna find out who did it and make them pay. No one disrespects my cousin like that.”

I grabbed his shoulder before he could start pacing. “Nate, you gotta keep it together. If Vince catches wind of this before you calm down, he’ll drag you into something you might not come back from.”

“And you think I’m just supposed to sit here and do nothing?” he shot back.

I didn’t have an answer for that. Nate was right to be angry, and it wasn’t like I didn’t feel the same way. But going off the rails wouldn’t bring Danny back, and it definitely wouldn’t stop whatever was coming next.

I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions. On one hand, Nate needed me. He was barely holding it together, and leaving him alone after what just happened felt like a betrayal. On the other hand, I’d made a promise to Y/n. Meeting her parents tonight was a big deal, and I couldn’t just bail.

“You’re not alone in this” I said after a moment. “But we gotta be smart about it. If we make a move now, it’ll only give Vince more of a reason to lose it. Let’s figure out who’s behind it first, then we’ll decide what to do.”

Nate stared at me, his expression a mix of fury and frustration. For a second, I thought he was going to argue, but then he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if I find out who it was before you do, I’m handling it my way.”

I nodded, even though his words made my chest tighten. There was no stopping Nate once he set his mind on something.

“Listen, I’ll check in later tonight, okay?” I said, trying to sound confident.

“Why? You got plans or something?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. I promised Y/n I’d meet her parents tonight. Dinner in hers.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed. “You’re ditching me for dinner? After everything that just happened?”

“It’s not like that” I said quickly. “This is important, too. I have to show her I’m serious about us. You know that.”

He scoffed, turning away from me. “Whatever, man. Go play house. I’ll deal with this on my own.”

“Nate-”

“Just go, Chris. You’ve got your priorities.”

The words hit harder than I expected. I wanted to stay, to make sure he didn’t do something reckless, but I couldn’t let Y/n down. Not tonight.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. “I’ll be back after dinner. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

He didn’t respond, just waved me off as he walked toward his car.

As I headed to my own car, the weight of everything pressed down on me. Nate was right, this wasn’t just about me anymore. If Vince found out about the attempted hit, there’d be hell to pay. And if Y/n’s family got even a hint of the world I was wrapped up in, things could fall apart before they even began.

Tonight wasn’t just a dinner, it was a balancing act. And one wrong step could send everything crashing down.

Y/n’s POV

The smell of garlic and rosemary filled the kitchen as I put the finishing touches on the roast chicken. Cooking wasn’t something I did often, but tonight felt special enough to make the effort. Mom had already filled Dad in on the whole boyfriend meeting the family situation, which saved me from the nerves of breaking the news myself. He didn’t say much when she told him, just gave a nod and asked what time dinner would be ready. Typical Dad.

At 6:15, I sent Chris a quick text:

“Hey, let me know when you’re on the way :)”

I set my phone on the counter and busied myself slicing vegetables for the side dish, trying not to obsess over every little detail. The table was already set, candles in the middle, the good silverware out, and plates that matched that's how much I wanted this to go smoothly.

By the time the clock read 6:30, my phone buzzed.

“On my way.”

I smiled, though a part of me couldn’t help but feel conflicted. My mind drifted back to what Willow had mentioned earlier about the funeral. Chris hadn’t told me about it. He was probably trying to protect me, but it stung a little, knowing he’d gone through such a heavy day without letting me in on it.

I couldn’t shake the guilt, either. Taking him away from Nate on a day like this felt wrong. It hit me then just how serious Chris must be about me. He was choosing to be here, despite everything else going on in his life. That realization made my chest tighten in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

Another buzz pulled me from my thoughts.

“Here.”

I grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe my hands and headed for the front door, my heart thumping a little harder with each step. I took a deep breath, opened it, and there he was, standing on the porch in a black button up shirt and dark jeans, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips.

The sight of him took my breath away for a moment. He looked good, better than good, but his eyes were tired, a heaviness lingering behind them that I knew came from the day he’d had. But I don’t think this is the right time to say anything.

“Hi” I said, my voice catching slightly. I cleared my throat and stepped aside to let him in.

“These are for you.” he said, holding out the flowers.

They were simple, red roses. But something about the gesture made my heart flutter.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you” I said, taking them and stepping aside so he could come in.

“Smells amazing in here” he said as he walked into the hallway.

“I decided I’d cook tonight. Felt like the right occasion” I said, trying to sound casual as I led him toward the dining room.

Chris nodded, glancing around the house. “It’s nice. Feels.. homey.”

“It is..” I trailed off, before I started rambling. “Anyway, my parents are in the living room. Ready to meet them?”

He hesitated for half a second, but then he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

I led him into the living room, where my parents were seated on the couch. Mom stood first, her warm smile instantly breaking the ice.

“You must be Chris” she said, stepping forward to shake his hand.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you” Chris said, his voice steady but polite.

Dad stood next, giving Chris a firm handshake and a nod. “Welcome to the house, son.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, I caught a brief flicker of nervousness in Chris’s eyes. He was doing his best, but I could tell this wasn’t easy for him.

“Dinner’s ready” I announced, hoping to move things along. “Let’s eat.”

As we all headed to the table, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Chris. He’d shown up for me today, even with everything he had going on. And as conflicted as I felt about some of it, one thing was clear, he was trying. For me.

Chris’ POV

By the time I pulled up outside Y/n’s house, my nerves were shot. It wasn’t just the day weighing on me, Danny’s funeral, the whispers, Nate’s rage, but the thought of sitting across from her parents, trying to fit into their polished world, made my stomach churn. I glanced at the flowers in the passenger seat, hoping they’d help me make a good first impression.

The house was cozy but big, sitting on a quiet street that screamed stability and comfort, two things I wasn’t exactly overflowing with. I stepped out of the car, straightened my shirt, and grabbed the flowers, making my way to the door.

Y/n opened the front door, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw me. She looked.. incredible, dressed casually but effortlessly perfect.

“Hey” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I held out the bouquet. “These are for you.”

Her smile widened, and she took the flowers, her fingers brushing mine for a second. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

I stepped inside, instantly hit by the smell of something amazing coming from the kitchen. “Smells incredible in here,” I said, trying to focus on anything other than how my pulse seemed to quicken every time I looked at her.

“I cooked tonight,” she said, leading me toward the dining room. “Figured it was a special occasion.”

“It definitely is,” I said, managing a small smile.

The living room was warm and inviting, her parents sitting on the couch as we walked in. Y/n introduced us, and I reached out to shake her mom’s hand first.

“You must be Chris,” her mom said, her smile kind but curious.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” I replied, feeling a little more at ease.

Her dad stood next, his handshake firm, his eyes sharper. “Welcome to the house, son.”

“Thank you, sir” I said, keeping my tone polite but not too stiff.

After a few minutes of pleasantries, Y/n led us all to the kitchen. The table was set perfectly, and the meal she’d made looked like something straight out of a cookbook. I sat down, feeling a little out of place at the polished table but determined not to show it.

The small talk started as we dug into the food. Her parents asked me the usual questions, where I grew up, what I liked to do, and I tried to answer as smoothly as I could. But the longer we talked, the more I couldn’t help but notice how put together they were. Everything about them, from the way they spoke to the way they carried themselves, screamed stability.

Meanwhile, I felt like a mess, a guy with a patchy past, walking on thin ice between two worlds.

“So” her dad said, setting his fork down and leaning forward slightly. “How did you two meet?”

I glanced at Y/n, and she smiled, stepping in to help me out.

“We met through mutual friends when we were fifteen” she explained. “We hung out a lot that summer, but then we just.. drifted apart.”

“Life happens” her mom said with a nod.

“Exactly” Y/n agreed, her gaze flicking to me as if to say you’re doing great.

And then her dad hit me with it – the question I’d been dreading all night.

“So, Chris” he said, his tone casual but pointed. “What do you do for work?”

For a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I set my glass down carefully, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“I, uh..” I started searching for the right words, the ones that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete disaster.

But what could I say? The truth wasn’t exactly an option, not here. My mind raced, and I glanced at Y/n, hoping for a lifeline.

“Freelance” Y/n said, cutting in before I could respond.

The words hung in the air, and I felt my chest tighten. Ground, swallow me up. It was a good save, sure, but it also stung a little. She knew that was my go to line when I didn’t want to get into details about what I actually do.

“Oh?” Her mom’s eyes lit up with interest, leaning forward slightly. “What kind?”

“Social media marketing” Y/n answered quickly, a polite smile on her lips.

Social media marketing? Jesus Christ. From the man with zero social media presence? I could barely keep my Instagram alive, let alone manage someone else’s.

“That’s fascinating” her mom continued. “I’ve heard it’s a really lucrative field these days.”

“Yeah” I said, clearing my throat and forcing a nod. “It’s definitely.. something.”

I glanced at Y/n, who gave me a subtle look that said just go with it. I appreciated the save, but I couldn’t help feeling like a fish out of water.

Her dad, however, seemed less convinced. He raised an eyebrow, clearly about to ask a follow-up question. “Do you work with specific clients or more general campaigns?”

Before I could stammer out an answer, Y/n swooped in again. “He works on a project basis” she said smoothly. “It’s more flexible that way.”

Her mom smiled, nodding in approval. “That sounds perfect for someone your age. Flexible, creative, it must keep you busy!”

“Oh, yeah. Busy,” I said, forcing a chuckle and taking a long sip of water to hide the fact that I was absolutely dying inside.

The conversation shifted to something else, thank fuck, but I could barely focus. I felt like an imposter sitting at this pristine table, in this perfect house, with these perfect people. Y/n’s parents seemed like the kind of couple who’d had their lives mapped out from day one. Stable careers, a beautiful home, kids who followed the plan.

And then there was me. Barely holding it together, juggling one lie after another just to keep my head above water.

Y/n’s hand brushed against mine under the table, pulling me out of my thoughts. She gave me a small, reassuring squeeze, as if to say it’s okay.

I squeezed back, grateful for her in that moment. Even if I didn’t feel like I belonged here, she was my anchor. I just had to make it through tonight without screwing it all up.

Suddenly, I felt a buzz in my pocket. Crap. My phone.

Y/n clearly felt it too, her hand slipped off my leg, her warmth replaced by a flicker of tension.

It buzzed again. And again.

Each vibration felt louder than the last, rattling through me like an alarm. God, I should’ve just turned it off.

Y/n’s dad looked up from his glass of wine, raising an eyebrow. Her mom followed his gaze, giving me a polite, curious smile. “Popular tonight, aren’t you?” she joked.

“Sorry about that” I muttered, trying to play it off as casually as I could. “It’s nothing important.”

But it kept buzzing. Over and over.

I glanced at Y/n, and her expression had shifted ever so slightly. Not enough for her parents to notice, but enough for me to catch the flicker of suspicion in her eyes.

“Maybe you should check it” Y/n’s dad said, his tone friendly but firm, the kind of tone that wasn’t really a suggestion.

Y/n was already shaking her head, smiling to defuse the situation. “He doesn’t have to, Dad. It’s probably just work stuff.”

“Yeah, work.. It’s nothing urgent. I’ll deal with it later.”

Except the buzzing stopped… only to start up again a second later.

Damn it, whoever it is calling me.

Her dad leaned back in his chair, clearly skeptical. “Must be a busy night in social media marketing” he quipped.

Y/n shot me a look. A small, apologetic one, but it was enough to say you’re making this worse.

I forced a laugh. “You’d be surprised. Campaigns don’t stop, even for dinner.”

“Mm” her dad hummed, still unconvinced.

The buzzing finally stopped, and I let out a silent breath of relief. But the damage was done. I could feel the tension hanging in the air, subtle but heavy.

Y/n’s mom, ever the optimist, changed the subject, steering the conversation back toward lighter topics. But I caught Y/n’s glance again, and this time, it was harder to read.

What was she thinking? Was she mad? Annoyed? Or just worried?

I shifted in my seat, the guilt already clawing at me. The funeral, the whispers of a hit, Nate’s grief, all of it had been piling up in the back of my mind, and now it was bleeding into this moment, ruining the one chance I had to prove to her parents that I could be someone normal. Someone stable.

But normal and stable didn’t come with constant buzzing phones, or lies about jobs, or friends who might not survive the night.

As the conversation went on, I did my best to focus, to smile, to play along. But inside, all I could think about was the messages and calls I knew were waiting for me. And how, once again, the life I was trying so hard to build with Y/n was colliding with the one I couldn’t escape.

As we finished up dessert, I followed Y/n into the kitchen, insisting on helping her with the dishes. Her mom and dad moved to the living room, their voices carrying faintly as they settled into a more relaxed conversation.

I rinsed a plate under the warm stream of water, my mind replaying the awkward moment earlier at the table. “I’m sorry about that job thing” I said, keeping my voice low. “I didn’t mean to put you in that spot. It must’ve been awkward for you.”

Y/n glanced at me, her soft smile instantly putting me at ease. “It’s fine, Chris. Really. They like you, I can tell. Don’t overthink it.”

“I just.. I worry, you know?” I admitted, setting the plate in the drying rack. “They’re so put together, so sure of everything. And I’m just..” I trailed off, shrugging.

She dried her hands and reached out, her touch light against my arm. “You’re you.” she said simply. “And that’s more than enough for me. Trust me, they see that too.”

Her words settled something in me. I leaned down and kissed her gently, feeling the warmth of her reassurance seep into me. But just as the moment softened, I felt it again, the buzz in my pocket.

I pulled back slightly, my stomach knotting as I hoped she hadn’t noticed.

“I think I might need to use the bathroom” I said quickly, my voice steady even as my heart raced.

Y/n didn’t seem suspicious, just gesturing toward the stairs. “There’s one right under there” she said.

I nodded, giving her a small smile before making my way out of the kitchen. My steps felt heavier with every buzz I’d felt on my phone.

Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door and leaned against it, pulling out my phone with shaky hands. The screen was lit up with a mess of notifications, missed calls, unread messages, demands.

Nate:

"Where are you, man?" (47m ago) "We found out who tried to make a hit earlier on. Going to fuck him up." (43m ago)

Vince:"Need you to cover a run. Meet at Dock." (33m ago) "Big hits tonight. Need you now." (29m ago) "?" (22m ago) "You have 30 mins to get here." (3m ago)

Thirty minutes. I had thirty minutes to figure out how the hell to get to the docks without tearing everything apart.

I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge like it might steady me. My chest felt tight, and my mind raced. They didn’t just "ask" for things, especially not Vince. They demanded. And missing a demand didn’t come without consequences.

But this wasn’t just about me. If I bailed tonight, it wouldn’t just be me in trouble. Nate could be left dealing with the fallout alone.

I stared at the mirror. My reflection was a mess of worry and panic. I ran my hands through my hair, took a deep breath, and tried to figure out my next move.

I slipped back out of the bathroom, tucking my phone deep into my pocket like I could bury the problem there. Making my way into the kitchen, I found Y/n putting away plates. She looked so at ease, so normal. I hated how I was about to ruin that.

“Hey” I started, my voice low, “I’m not feeling great. I think I need to head home and sleep this off.”

She turned to me, frowning slightly. “Are you okay? You didn’t seem off earlier.”

“Yeah, it just hit me” I lied, forcing a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to cut the night short.”

I could see the disappointment in her eyes, but she covered it quickly with a soft smile. “It’s okay” she said. “Dad’s already passed out in a food coma, so I doubt he’ll even notice.” She paused, searching my face. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.”

She reached out, brushing her hand against my arm. “Alright. Go home and feel better, okay?”

I leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, lingering just a moment longer than I should’ve. Part of me didn’t want to leave her, but I knew I had no choice.

I slipped into the living room to say goodbye to her mom, who was already halfway through a glass of wine. “Thanks for having me, Mrs. Y/l/n” I said, keeping my tone as polite as I could manage.

“Of course, Chris. See you soon!” she replied with a warm smile.

I walked out of the house, the cool night air hitting me like a slap. My chest felt heavy, but my feet moved fast. I wasn’t ready for this, none of it. Not Nate’s vengeance. Not Vince’s demands. Not the lies I was weaving into my time with Y/n.

As I got into my car, I stared at my phone again. Thirty minutes. Less, now.

I didn’t even start the engine before slamming my fist against the steering wheel.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I muttered to myself.

I had no answer. Only more questions, and no time to figure them out.

With a deep breath, I started the car and pulled onto the road. I wasn’t ready, but readiness didn’t matter anymore. It never did in this life.

a/n: its become more and more obvious to me that im shadow banned so i appreciate everyones interactions 🥲🥲

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside

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scorpioriesling · 3 days ago

Text

Invisible String - Part 6

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): Please be advised; this part might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: My apologies, this took forever for me to finish writing for you all (I've had so much on my plate lately). I hope you’re ready — all we have left is the finale! I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't read the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- I hope you are excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @mellowmusings @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori @dannul @velarisdusk @lamarmotta @paintedbyshadows @i-know-i-can @adventure-awaits13 @acourtofbatboydreams (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

"My bow tied?"

You sigh as you adjust the golden ribbon tied in the little girl's hair, her wide eyes looking to you for assurance. Though it's about the fifth time she's asked you to confirm, you answer her once more.

"Yes, dear," you say, smoothing down the front of her corduroy dress with reassurance. "I promise I tied it into your ponytail really good."

She nods, her little body buzzing with anticipation and excitement. You take her hand, leading her toward the front door of the Forest House where her father waits.

"Ready for your first day?" He asks, smiling prodly at his daughter though you can practically feel the way his heart hurts inside.

"I am, daddy!" She bounds over to him, clutching the strap of her pink backpack with a fluffy bunny printed on the front. When Eris arrived home with it last week, she could've practically exploded from sheer excitement.

He helps her slip it over her little shoulders, bending down and kissing the top of her head as he gazes at her. Your heart swells -- you knew, this wasn't just a big day for Riley, but for him too.

"We should walk outside -- the carriage service will be here soon, you won't want to miss it." He winks, and Riley giggles as she jumps up and down.

"Daddy -- Y/N coming too?" She asks as he takes her hand in his. He glances to you, and your eyes widen.

"Oh, no, honey, I think your father should bring you to your first day of school," you explain hastily. She huffs, trotting over to you and wrapping her small fingers around your palm.

"Pleeeeeeease, you come too?" She asks. Eris only shrugs, and you glance down into those big, pleading eyes once more.

"Alright, then," you hesitate, and she continues her celebration as though this was her birthday. Eris glances out the window, turning to face the two of you again before speaking.

"The carriage is just down the way; ready to go, Riles?" She nods, looking back to make sure you're following.

"I'll be just behind you," you say, jogging to the kitchen as they make their way through the front door. Spotting the mason jar in the middle of the table, you reach for it, and then hurry to catch up with the two out front.

:* ✧･ﾟ:

The rest of the day goes on per usual, though the house is errily quiet with Riley's absence.

Eris left for the Palace soon after Riley got on the carriage, which left you in the Forrest House... alone. All day.

You were cleaning for what felt like the 25th hour of the day when the clock struck 3 pm, and you quickly hurried outside. She would be home any minute, and you were dying to know how her first day of public school went.

Sure enough, the gleaming ivory of the carriage made it's debut over the hill; stopping just at the end of the drive. The doors were barely open before Riley burst out, running as fast as she could to you up the drive.

"Chris-anthem!"

You kneeled, stretching your arms wide as she lept into them full-force. She held onto you tightly, the only adieu to the carriage coach a small wave before he set off once more. When she finally let go, you asked her.

"How was your first-"

"A Chris-anthem!" She squealed again, this time thrusting her clenched fist toward you to look. In her palm, she held the stem of a rather wilty, dying orange bloom.

"Ohhh, your flower," you realized. "You asked what it was, hm?" She nodded happily.

"Yes! And Miss Peachum says its a Chris-anthem!" You chuckle, realizing the plant is indeed a Chrysanthemum.

"Ahh, I see," You say, half-distracted by the approaching male on horseback trotting toward the stables. His hair is radiant in the light of the setting sun, his shoulders set as he comes more into view.

"We should go inside -- I think your daddy is almost home, and I'm sure he'd love to hear about your first day at school."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

The routine becomes a little more established over the next couple of weeks as all of you adapt to the new schedule. On days Eris goes in later, he gets up with his daughter and gets her onto the carriage; on his early days, you do it. It's a nice routine, one that is almost perfect.

Almost.

You still longed for the feeling of his sheets, his warm embrace as he'd hold you through the night. How good it felt, even for just a short time, to feel so comfortable, as though your longing had been satiated -- now, it felt like those days were as good as gone.

"Oh, Y/N?" His voice was quiet in the silent hall of the house, Riley put into bed after another long day. You were jsut about to retire to your chambers when he spoke, his steps quick to catch you before you went to bed.

"Hm?" You turned, facing him in the dim evening light. He stepped close enough so you oculd make out his features, every freckle on his nose and the exact curve of his jaw -- but not too close to touch.

"I, uh, I just had something I wanted to ask you about," he fumbles, and you lean against the doorway as his eyes finally find yours.

"Anything," you say reassuringly, hating how uncharacteristically nervous he's being. He swallows, his lips parting in thought before he speaks again.

"The uh, the annual court ball is happening in three days," he says, his brows knitting. "And, uhm." He coughs to clear his throat, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Yessss?"

"Well, it's in the evening, um. I have to go, I mean. I have to attend." He says, biting the inside of his cheek. You nod in realization, your heart sinking just a bit.

"Right, right, I figured as much. I, uh. I don't have any plans, I mean, I'll be here, for Riley that night-"

He frowns, taking a step closer and looking straight down into your eyes.

"No," he says sharply, his features relaxing when your eyes widen. "I, um. She has, someone else to watch her that evening." He nods once, and you look up at him quizzically.

"Okay...?"

"Would you join me?" The words come out so fast you almost don't register them. "I mean, to the ball. Would you..." his fingers lightly take yours, his thumb tracing a small circle on the back of your hand.

"You. Want me. To go with you?"

He chuckles, his hand holding yours with ease. If only he knew the tidal wave rushing through your veins at this very moment-

"I do," he assures, bringing the back of your hand to his mouth to press a small kiss to it. "I'd be honored, if you would join me."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Three days was not near long enough to get yourself in check.

By that, you were feeling so nervous -- no matter how many times you'd redone your makeup, or re-tied the laces on your gown -- you still stared at yourself in the mirror, barely believing the events that were to unfold tonight.

A soft knock on your door pulls you from your daze, the wood creaking as it slowly opens.

"Oh... wow," Eris sucks in a breath, coming to stand behind you as he gazes at you through the mirror. You continue to pick and fiddle with your gown, only halting when his hands rest on your waist.

"Y/N, you're beautiful," he muses, and you can't help but blush. Gazing at him through the reflection, you agree -- you were beautiful, the maroon fabric hugged you nicely and complimented the accents of his jacket to a tee.

"Thank you," you whisper, and he turns you to face him. A small smile creeps onto his lips as he takes you in before him. You can't help but grin back, as the man oogling you is quite handsome himself.

"Are you ready?" He asks, and you take a deep breath, glancing at yourself once more over your shoulder.

"I am," you hesitate. "I just... I hope your parents won't think less of you for bringing me tonight."

Eris huffs a laugh, his eyes meeting yours in the glass.

"Darling, I don't give a damn what my parents think. Especially my father."

You chew on your lip, his words not resonating with you like he hoped they would.

"I just... I'm not like you, I'm not... a High Fae," you sigh. "I'm nothing like Selene-"

"Good." His fingers prod at your chin, turning your head to face him directly once more.

"I'm glad you're nothing like her, Y/N." Your heart melts, his words finally hitting home.

"You're everything and more, love," you swear his lips are inching toward yours with every word he speaks.

"She could only wish to be half the woman you are."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Living in the Autumn Court your entire life, you could've never imagined the royal balls were anything like this. Not even close.

Your gaze shifted from person to person, taking in everything from their elaborate attire to their pointed ears. Weaving through the crowd of people and lingering stares, the insecurity from earlier resurfaced as you glanced down at your rather plain dress.

"Eris," you hissed. He turned, leaning in close to speak with you. "Why didn't you tell me to get something more..." You struggled to find the word. "Ball-appropriate?"

His grin sent a shiver down your spine before his warm breath against your ear could.

"I think you look absolutely divine, Y/N."

Your cheeks heat again as he reaches for your hand, giving it a small squeeze before opening his mouth again.

"I need to make an appearance at the dais," he explains. "Will you be alright-"

"Yes. I'll wait here." You nod, not exactly as confident as you'd hoped in meeting his parents so soon. He kisses your cheek quickly, the brush of his lips a momentary relief against your flushed face before he makes way for the dais. His father tracks his movements, every step watched by those beady eyes.

You'd known the High Lord was, well... cruel, to put it plainly. He was unfair, and demanding, and took advantage of the power he held -- which is exactly why your stomach begins to turn as his focus lands right. On. You.

"Thank you all, for coming tonight." He bellows, standing to speak to the crowd in the throne room. Every head turns to face him, every eye focused on him as he scans the room. Eris stands confidently next to his father, with the Lady of Autumn politely standing on his other side.

He continues his short announcement, the music resuming as he finishes and demands it be so. As people begin moving and partnering off, your worry returns. Where was Eris? No longer beside his father, you look around you, not spotting that firey red head of hair anywhere among the crowd.

That is, until two large hands snake around your waist from behind, his familiar chuckle causing your breath to hitch.

"Share a dance with me?"

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Your hands tremble as Eris slowly guides you to the middle of the room, all the faelights dimming on the walls. People sidestep around you, moving out of your way as though Eris is parting the sea itself.

The soft melody from the string quartet begins, a song you'd surely heard before. None of it calmed your nerves, especially as you peered toward the dais. Sure enough; both of his parents were watching the two of you.

"Hey, don't get nervous on me now." Eris offers a small smile, and you gulp down your nerves. He places your left hand on his shoulder, taking the other one in his own. His free hand snakes around your waist, splaying flat on your back as he draws you closer to him.

"Just, follow me." He steps to the side, beginning to move in time with the song. You follow, trying to calm the shakiness of your hand in his while he presses you against him.

A few counts in, you relax a little. Sure, you weren't High Fae, or maybe someone his father would choose for him -- but Eris chose you. You're the one here with him tonight, dancing in front of his family and his court as though you came as a package deal.

When you look up at him, you blush realizing he had already been focused on you. He chuckles, his fingers tracing up and down on the small of your back as he twirls the two of you around the dancing floor.

"I'm really glad you came tonight," he says lowly, his amber-flecked gaze intense as you can't help but stare back.

"Me too," you say. "I've never attended anything like this before."

He raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face.

"Well, you're quite the talented dancer for never being brought to a ball before," he releases your waist, spinning you in a slow circle and then pulling you back to him once more. You grin, a small laugh escaping your lips as the two of you are held close once more.

"I shouldn't be surprised, as you've grown up going to these things," you say, your gaze landing on his lips. "But, you're quite impressive as well."

Those lips tilt upward as the song comes to an end, the two of you simply gazing at the other. You don't notice the clearing made for the two of you, how every other fae had allowed the two of you into the spotlight of the room. You'd simply been too caught up in the moment with the handsome man before you-

Eris sighs, and you watch as his gaze zeroes in on the dais once more. Turning, you peek as well -- the High Lord is beckoning his son at once.

"I can wait for you-"

"He wants us both." Eris shakes his head, the muscles in his arms tightening as he slowly lets go of you.

"Oh," is all you can think to say. He takes your hand, once again making way to his father's throne. This time, he leads you with him.

"Father." Is all he says when the two of you approach, and you watch as the High Lord so much as flicks his gaze to you before offerring his son an unamused look. Eris bends at the waist, and you follow suit, curtsying low as you offer your respect.

"Eris," his father echoes, his hands folding across his chest. "How uncourtly of you to not introduce your mother and I to your... guest, this evening." You look to the Lady of Autumn, offering a small bow of your head. She smiles at you softly -- the most reaction you'd seen from her all night.

"My apologies." Eris says, and you can practically hear the sarcastic remarks he was making in his mind. He turns to you, a smile sppearing on his face when you meet his gaze.

"This is Y/N, you've heard me mention her before," he explains. "She is the woman who helps so much with... with Riley," he hesitates. You'd known his parents were not involved much in his personal life, mainly because of his father and how he has treated his own son. You couldn't say you blamed him.

"Y/N," Beron repeats, his beady gaze focusing on you. He reaches to take your hand in his, kissing the back of it in polite greeting. You force a smile, but can feel Eris' jaw tightening from where he stood beside you. "How nice to finally meet you."

His words are dripping with venom, but you respond with class nonetheless. "Likewise, High Lord."

He releases your hand, resting his own on the armrests of his throne. He looks to Eris again, his gaze wavering between the two of you.

"So nice to see my son bring a woman to one of these kinds of events again -- he'd been alone in attendance, of course, since he let that Day Court whore slip through his fingers." Your eyes widen at his careless use of the derogatory language, but he simply chuckles. Eris' fingers find yours, sliding through them and squeezing gently. His father doesn't miss the action, and is quite unpleased by it.

"Even if it means bringing the help with him." He sneers a horrible smile, and you feel your face flush at the comment. Your throat tightens, making swallowing painful as you try and surpress the forming emotions threatening to spill out.

"Father, please-"

"Now now, son. It's been a few years since Selene fled, whether it be your --" he pauses in throught. "...annoying, nature, or maybe she simply didn't enjoy your company." Eris sucks in a breath, releasing it slowly as though he's practiced this a million times.

Nonetheless, Beron continues. "Reguardless, I think it's time you remarry -- don't you?" Your eyes widen, your gaze dropping to the floor. Remarry? Surely Eris wouldn't agree to that.

"Father, I'm perfectly happy with-"

"With, what? Being alone? Leaving that poor child without a mother?" His father tutts, his hands flexing against the golden armrests.

"Could we talk about this, later?" Eris grits out. Your heart sinks as you feel both of his parent's eyes on you. Looking to the Lady of Autumn, she only offers you a sorrow-filled expression.

"We shall do just that." Beron promises. "Now, go. Enjoy the rest of the ball." He grins wickedly as though he didn't just insult everyone standing before him.

Eris turns, guiding you down the stairs of the dais when you hear Beron's voice from behind you.

"Lovely to meet you, Y/N!"

You only manage a small nod as your foot steps onto the floor. Then, you take off in a beeline for the exit.

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Your chest is heaving as you shove through the heavy entry doors to the palace, the cool night air chilly against your heated skin. You brace against one of the marbled columns in the entryway, a few hot tears finally breaking free and falling down your cheeks. In seconds, the doors open again, a familiar voice ringing out behind you.

"Y/N, please don't take what he said to heart-"

"Don't," you growl, your shoulders shaking as your emotions continue to rattle through you. The soft footsteps of his boots sound behind you, his quiet approach made known as his hand rests against your back.

"Love, I promise he's always like this-"

"Like what? Horrible?" Your eyes narrow as you turn to face him, his saddened expression evident when he sees the wet streams down your face. He reaches out, brushing a stray tear away.

"Pretty much," he mumbles, his other hand rubbing soothingly against your back. You continue to sob, soft sounds coming from you as Eris pulls you close to his chest.

In minutes, you feel his hands pushing you lightly against a cushiony surface. You follow his lead, sitting as you rub the water from your eyes. The familiar feeling of silk touches your fingers, and Eris moves for just a moment before the room is filled with heat.

His bedroom. He'd winnowed the two of you out of there, and right into his room.

"Eris-" You stutter, avoiding his gaze shamefully as he moves to sit beside you on the bed. "Y-you have to get back, your parents-"

"My parents can fuck off for now." He says, his hands reaching for you and pulling you close to him. He guides you to lie next to him, your head resting against his chest while his fingers stroke through your hair.

It's silent for a while, the only sounds from the fire crackling in the hearth and a few occasional sniffles as you work to regain your composure. When anyone finally speaks, it's him.

"I'm not going to remarry." He says, another few silent beats following his admission. Your heart breaks further, any hope of what you'd had before with the male shattering. He hugs you closer to him, his hands bracing around your smaller frame.

"I mean, I'm not remarrying just because of my father." He clarifies. You wipe your eyes with the back o your hand, pushing up on a elbow to look directly into his eyes.

"Eris... it doesn't seem like much of a choice-"

"It is," he cuts in. "It is my choice. I'm so sick of my father choosing what I do, and when, and who with. I won't allow it any longer." He frowns, pulling you down to lay with him again. Your fingers begin to play with one of the seams on his jacket, as your mind clears.

"Is that... what I was? Tonight?" You ask weakly. "Just, a way of defiance, to your father?" Eris sighs, tilting your chin to look up into his eyes. Though your face is red and puffy, he offers you a small smile.

"Never, my dear -- I had the choice in bringing someone with me this evening. And, I chose you. I wanted you there with me." You feel a spark of hope in your chest, amidst everything else you'd been feeling. He's quiet, waiting as you collect your thoughts.

Another single tear slips free, trailing down your cheek as you inch closer to him. He pulls you in, his mouth mere inches from yours as your voice comes out in a whisper.

"I choose you, too, Eris."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

#Spotify #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vandaddy #eris fanfic #eris x oc #acowar #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #acotar #acosf #acomaf #read more

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insidekatmind · 1 day ago

Text

Meet my sister P.4-Jude Bellingham

Part.1,Part.2,Part.3

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

The following day, Federico had arranged a special lunch with Jude, Kylian, Vinicius, and, of course, his sister Y/N. Despite the palpable tension between Jude and Y/N, Federico hoped the situation wouldn’t escalate and that everything would go smoothly. He knew how complicated both of their personalities were, and he didn’t want his lunch to end with another argument between them.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N was already there, sitting at the table with a radiant smile, completely unaware of Federico’s concerns. She wore an elegant dress that seemed to fit her style perfectly, her brown hair falling softly around her shoulders. There was something in her demeanor that immediately caught attention, but today she seemed calmer than usual, as if she had decided to take a step back.

Federico approached Jude before he sat down.

"Please, Jude," he said in a serious tone, "try not to argue with Y/N today. I know you two don’t like each other, but let’s try not to ruin everything. It’s important to me that you both behave civilly, at least today."

Jude looked at him, his eyes showing slight irritation. "Don’t worry, I’m not here to fight," he replied sharply. "I’ll try to hold my tongue." But there was no promise in his gaze, only a silent challenge, as if the thought of Y/N was always there, ready to make him react.

Kylian and Vinicius sat down at the table, both smiling, aware of the tense atmosphere but ready to have fun despite it all. The tension between Jude and Y/N didn’t go unnoticed, but Federico hoped that with time things might improve, at least during lunch.

Y/N gestured for you to sit next to her, her curious gaze watching you as you took your seat. A faint smile spread across her face, but there was nothing hostile about it. "I hope you’ve eaten, Jude," she said, her tone sarcastic as always. "I wouldn’t want you to get upset if my order is better than yours."

Jude, who had now taken his seat, slowly turned toward her, trying to keep control. "I’m not going to get upset over something like that," he replied with a sly smile, "but I hope you don’t actually believe your order is better than mine."

Federico sighed, looking between the two of them. The atmosphere seemed charged with almost palpable tension. But, maybe, a little irony and a teasing smile would manage to keep things at least somewhat calm.

---

The lunch continued with an atmosphere charged with tension, but also a certain electricity hanging between you and Jude. Both of you challenged each other with your looks, almost as if it were a game, but while he seemed more serious, you were visibly more entertained by the situation. You couldn't help teasing him, enjoying how he reacted to each of your moves.

When Vinicius started making some jokes, you, without thinking too much, leaned toward him, responding with a light laugh and flirting a bit with his natural charm. "You know, Vinicius," you said with a mischievous smile, "I'd love to see how you move on the dance floor. I see you're good at making girls' heads turn."

Vinicius, always smiling, seemed to appreciate your playful attitude. "Well, Y/N, if you'd like, we can go for a spin once we're done here," he replied, giving you a look that left little room for interpretation.

Jude, who had been watching from a distance, couldn't help but clench his teeth and shoot you a dirty look filled with annoyance and jealousy. Every word that came out of your mouth seemed like a little provocation towards him. There was no doubt you were enjoying making him angry. His expression became harder, but you kept smiling, enjoying the moment.

"I thought you'd be more interested in what's on your plate, Jude," you said, giving him a mischievous glance. "But I see you're distracted." Your voice almost sounded like a challenge, as if you really wanted to test him and see how far he'd go.

Jude stared at you, his look now completely different, darker, and more determined. The annoyance he felt mixed with something deeper, but he would never admit that he found you intriguing. "I don’t get how you manage to do all this without losing control," he muttered, his voice sharp.

Meanwhile, Vinicius, who didn't seem to want to miss the chance to keep the atmosphere light, laughed heartily and got involved in the conversation. "I think Y/N knows how to have fun," he said, looking at you with a knowing smile.

But Jude didn’t seem amused at all; in fact, his face had grown serious. He continued staring at you with a look that, despite trying to appear indifferent, betrayed a hint of frustration.

Federico, sitting next to you, quickly glanced between the two of you, hoping the situation wouldn’t get out of hand. But it was clear now: the challenge between you and Jude was just beginning, and the tension was only going to grow.

---

The tension between you and Jude continued to grow visibly, and soon, the words began to get harsher. While Vinicius and Kylian spoke to each other, trying to lighten the mood with jokes and laughter, you and Jude couldn't hide the irritation you felt for one another any longer.

"What's wrong with you?" Jude suddenly snapped, his tone full of frustration. "Every time I open my mouth, it seems like you have something to say back, don’t you realize how annoying that is?"

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his reaction, but without stopping to keep it intimate and provocative. "Oh, really?" you replied, pretending to be surprised. "It doesn’t seem like you’re suffering that much. In fact, it seems like you kind of like it, considering you can’t stop looking at me."

Jude gritted his teeth, his gaze now burning with anger. He couldn’t understand how you could drive him crazy so easily, but a part of him couldn’t look away from you, despite everything. "You like testing me, don’t you? You thought I’d let some kind words slip out, maybe?" he retorted, his sarcasm sharp.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I do," you responded with a mocking smile. "I enjoy seeing how you react. It's almost funny, if you think about it."

Federico, who had been trying to stay calm until then, looked around and saw that things were getting out of hand. "Hey, enough!" he intervened, trying to lower the tension. "Please, don’t start fighting now. I’m trying to keep this a civil dinner."

But you didn’t stop. Your provocative spirit was too strong, and his behavior annoyed you even more. "But you don’t really want to listen, do you?" you shot back at Jude. "Because if you don’t like me making you lose your patience, maybe you should look for someone who stays quiet. And I don’t think that’s me."

Jude slammed his fist on the table, his face darker than ever. "You have no idea how badly you’re making me want to completely ignore you," he said, his voice trembling with repressed anger. "But I know that's exactly what you want, right? You want to drive me crazy. Don’t think you’ll win with me."

"We’re already in the game, Jude," you replied, your voice deeper and sharper. "And I can see you like playing, at least a little."

Federico ran a hand over his forehead, feeling his heart race. He didn’t want everything to end like this, but it was clear that your battle with Jude had just begun. What was supposed to be a calm dinner was turning into a real battleground.

---

When they left the restaurant, the atmosphere was still tense, and despite Federico's attempts to keep the peace, the argument between you and Jude had left its mark. The guys parted ways, heading to their cars to go to training, but the heavy silence that followed was yet another sign that the tension hadn't subsided.

Federico, who could no longer stand the constant hostility between you and Jude, finally exploded. He approached Jude with determined steps, stopping him before he could get into the car. "I can't take it anymore, watching how you behave with her!" Federico burst out, his voice full of frustration. "Every time you two cross paths, it's the same story! I'm asking you to calm down, to stop fighting with her, and all you do is provoke her!"

Jude, who until that moment had tried to keep a facade of indifference, couldn't help but react. "It's not like you think, Federico," he replied, trying to sound calm, but his voice betrayed a defensive tone. "I don't want to argue with her, it's just that... she's unbearable! Every time I open my mouth, she answers like she's trying to challenge me, and you don’t understand how hard it is to stay calm with someone like her."

Federico looked at him, his eyes full of disappointment. "You don't get her, Jude. She's just a bit... different. She's an exuberant person, always ready to throw out a challenge, but that doesn't mean you should treat her like an enemy. I know her well, and I assure you, beneath all that attitude, there's just a strong personality. She's not trying to wage war on you."

Jude sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, trying to contain the anger that continued to burn inside him. "She's driving me crazy, Federico," he admitted, looking at his friend with frustrated eyes. "I don't know what to do. Every time I see her, I feel like I have to be careful with every word I say because I know anything could seem offensive to her, even if it's not. It's like she's always ready to throw her fight at me."

Federico took a step back, trying to think of how to explain things better. "She's not challenging you, Jude. She's not trying to provoke you on purpose. She just has a way of doing things that might seem hard to handle, but I'm telling you honestly: she's just testing you. And as much as you want to deny it, I know something attracts you to her, even if you don't want to admit it."

Jude looked at him for a moment, in silence, as if he were trying to figure out if what Federico was saying made any sense. "I don't know, Federico…" he finally replied, his tone softer. "But I can't deny that something about her drives me crazy. But I don't even know how to deal with her. She's not the type of girl I’d expect to meet."

Federico smiled wryly. "Yeah, but maybe that's exactly why you should stop acting tough and try to understand what's behind that facade. She's not just a game, Jude. She's a complex person, and if you really want to have any chance with her, you need to stop treating her like a challenge and start seeing her for who she really is."

Jude remained silent, thinking over those words, but deep inside, he knew that the battle with you was just beginning. A cocky smile slipped out, but there was also a hidden unease. "We’ll see, Federico. We’ll see."

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lefteagleblizzard · 10 hours ago

Text

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

A request that I received from a friend on tumblr. ‘The reader has to leave for a week roughly, when he comes back Abby is obviously excited and wanting to play with the reader the rest of the day. But all Mike wants to do is have you under him writhing in ecstasy. Basically it's Mike having blue balls for most of the fic until the end when it's night and he *politely* hugs the reader while they frantically make love’

Tags: Part 10 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Mike is missing you deeply. A tiny bit of jealousy. Mentions of phone sex. Smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Anal sex.

Words count: 3000 words

Part 1-Part 2- Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8 -Part 9

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The moment you stepped through the door, Abby's squeal echoed through the house. You barely had time to set your bag down before she came bounding toward you, her little arms outstretched. She wrapped herself around your waist in an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking you off balance.

"You're back! You're back!" she cried, hopping on her toes as if to emphasize the sheer force of her excitement.

You laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Missed me that much?"

She pulled back, her face a mixture of indignation and joy. "Of course I missed you! You've been gone forever!" She tugged at your hand insistently, her small fingers gripping tightly. "You have to see what I did while you were gone. I drew a lot! And I made one for you and you have to see it."

"Abby, take it easy, you're going to knock him over," Mike's voice came from the kitchen, casual but unmistakably warm. "He has been gone a week and you've got him chained to you already?"

"I missed you too," you said with a grin before kneeling down to meet Abby’s eye level. "Have you been good while I was gone? Not driving your brother too crazy, I hope?"

Abby giggled, then held out her pinky. "Promise I've been super good. Except maybe when I made Mike drop the spaghetti last night because I tried to do a cartwheel in the kitchen."

You glanced up at Mike, your smile widening. “Sounds like I missed quite a week.”

Mike rolled his eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Sorry about her," his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "She's been talking about you all week. You'd think you were gone for months." His voice sent a pleasant shiver through you, low and steady but edged with amusement.

"She's fine," you said, smiling. "Honestly, it's nice to be missed."

He leaned against the doorframe, the dim lighting catching the tired creases under his eyes. Black hair messy t-shirt that clung to his lean but sturdy frame. His gaze lingered on you and only now did you realize how much you had missed him.

Abby, oblivious to the silent tension, kept tugging at your hand. "Come on! I need to show you something!" Her excitement bubbled over, her small hands pulling you toward her room with surprising strength. "I drew so many things while you were gone and you have to see them all!".

You glanced over at Mike, offering him a half-apologetic smile as his sister guided you by her room. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his lips twitching between amusement and thinly veiled frustration.

Mike's brow arched slightly as though to say, ‘Really? After a week away, you're prioritizing her?’ But he didn't speak his protest aloud. Instead, he pushed off the doorway with a grunt, muttering, "Guess I'll just... wait my turn."

The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with crayon drawings taped to the walls, scattered across the floor and piled on her tiny desk. Abby flopped onto the carpet, pulling out a stack of drawings with the urgency of someone sharing top-secret information. "Okay, okay! Look at this one first. It's Chica but I made her of a different color."

You chuckled, sitting cross-legged beside her as she thrust the drawing into your hands. “A total masterpiece."

Her eyes sparkled at your praise. "You think so? Look at this one!" She shuffled through the pile, pulling out another one that she eagerly handed to you.

"This one is us at the park," she explained, holding up a crayon drawing of the three of you surrounded by flowers and trees. "Those two are you and Mike holding hands! I drew it because you're always together."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, feeling a tinge of embarrassment but also a deep sense of affection. "You're quite the artist, Abby. I look amazing here. You're going to be famous one day."

Her eyes lit up at the compliment, and she beamed with pride. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you assured her, glancing at Mike. "Right, Mike?"

From the bed, where Mike had sprawled out with all the ease of a man trying to keep his patience in check, a low sound of approval erupted. He smirked at the question, his gaze flickering between you and Abby. "Yeah, kid. You've got some real talent. Be careful, though. Keep going like this and his ego's going to get too big." His dark eyes watched you intently, softening ever so slightly every time Abby smiled at you.

Abby's grin widened and she immediately dove into her stack of drawings to find more to show you. Mike's smirk softened into a fond smile as he watched her animatedly interact with you. He loved seeing you and Abby bond, though his gaze kept drifting to you, lingering on the curve of your back as you leaned forward, the way your lips quivered when you laughed and the soft glow in your eyes as you encouraged Abby.

A part of him felt guilty for how often his mind wandered, but he couldn't stop the flood of thoughts. He knew he should focus on the moment, but his body's reaction to having you so close after a week apart was impossible to ignore

He clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the mundane but his gaze kept wandering back to you. Your fingers brushed hers as you helped her shuffle through the pile of pictures, your laughter soft and genuine as you let her talk about her latest dream.

‘God, those hands...’ his eyes lingering on the way your fingertips moved. He didn't mean to stare, but the memory of those same hands clutching his shoulders, clawing at his back, sent a flash of heat straight to his core.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, feigning disinterest as his thoughts betrayed him. The view of the way you leaned slightly forward, the curve of your spine visible through your shirt made it ten times worse. He wondered, for the briefest of moments, what it would feel like to have you there on the floor, pinned beneath him, the softness of your moans muffled against his lips.

Abby leaned against your shoulder, holding up another picture. This one was clearly meant to be Mike, his hair a chaotic swirl of black scribbles. "This one's you, Mike! I made his hair messy because it's always like that." she exclaimed, holding up a surprisingly decent rendition of his perpetual frown.

"It's not always messy," he protested half-heartedly. He was leaning against the bed frame, one leg propped up, his head tilted lazily against the wall. You turned toward him with a grin. "She's not wrong, though."

Mike shot you a glare, though there was no real malice behind it. "I see you've both decided to team up on me. Great. Just what I needed after a long week." he muttered.

Abby giggled, unfazed by his grumbling as she kept eagerly pulling out new drawings she made

His eyes softened at the sight of you and Abby together. She was sitting so close to you, practically in your lap, her small hand tugging at your sleeve as she babbled on about her next masterpiece. It was enough to make his heart ache, both from the warmth of seeing you bond with her and the sharp sting of jealousy that you weren't paying attention to him.

He let his head fall back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as he tried to shake the frustration bubbling in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this. Abby was a kid and she deserved every bit of your attention. But damn it, he'd missed you. A week without you had felt like an eternity and now that you were here, he had to sit back and wait?

His fingers twitched at the memory of the previous night at work. Alone in the security office, watching the flickering monitors, the silence stretching endlessly. It had been another slow, uneventful shift, the kind that made every second feel like an hour.

One second he was leaning against the chair, the next he got up and grabbed the nearby phone and dialed the number of the structure you were in.

He'd called you on impulse, not even sure you'd pick up so late.

"Mike?" Your voice had been groggy but laced with concern. "It's, like, two in the morning. Are you okay?"

The sound of your voice had been a balm to his frayed nerves. “Yeah," he'd said, leaning back in the chair, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. "I'm fine. Just... bored. Wanted to hear your voice." His tone had shifted, growing rougher, more deliberate.

There'd been a pause, and then a soft chuckle. "You miss me that much, huh?"

He hadn't denied it. He couldn't. Instead, he'd let the words tumble out, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he told you how much he'd been thinking about you. And God, the way you'd responded, your voice growing softer, breathier, as the conversation took a turn he hadn't dared hope for.

By the end of it, he'd been a mess, stroking himself as your whispered moans filled his ear. He'd closed his eyes, picturing you on his lap, your hands clutching his shoulders, your body rocking against his as he thrust up into you over and over. He could still hear your voice, the way you'd gasped his name when you came. It had been enough to leave him breathless, slumped in his chair with his hand still wrapped around himself.

The memory of your voice, the way you'd whimpered his name through the phone, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through him even now.

"Mike, you're not even looking!" Abby's voice snapped him back to the present. She was holding up another drawing, her brow furrowed in mock frustration.

He adjusted his position on the bed, praying Abby wouldn't notice the tension in his body, forcing a smile. "Sorry, kiddo. Let me see."

The hours dragged on, but for Mike, every second felt like an eternity. He loved how natural you were with her, how effortlessly you fit into their little world. But the selfish part of him, the one that had spent countless sleepless nights imagining your body pressed against his, was losing the fragile grip it had on its patience.

Night had finally fallen and Abby, despite her earlier determination to stay awake and keep playing, had succumbed to exhaustion. She lay nestled inside the fort she had spent the better part of the evening constructing, pillows stacked precariously, blankets draped over chairs and furniture, her breathing slow and steady. Mike had taken care to tuck another blanket securely around her, brushing her hair back gently before stepping away.

You stood near the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with a fond smile. There was something endlessly endearing about seeing Mike in dad mode, his gruff exterior softening as he ensured Abby was warm and comfortable.

"She's out cold," he murmured as he joined you at the door, his voice low to avoid waking her. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he gently shut the door behind him.

When he turned back to you, there was a shift in his expression. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist in a firm but measured embrace. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his stubble brushing against your skin as his breath came hot and steady.

"Finally," he murmured, his voice husky. "My turn."

You chuckled softly, though your breath hitched at the weight of his tone. "What, you missed me that much?" You tried to keep your voice light, teasing, though your heart raced as he held you.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his dark gaze smoldering. "You have no idea." His fingers pressed into your lower back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush. "No more interruptions. You're mine now."

Mike's hand never left your waist as he guided you down the hall toward the bedroom. His grip was firm but not rushed, his thumb stroking small circles through the fabric of your shirt. Once inside, he kicked the door shut with a soft thud, the sound sending a thrill down your spine.

He turned to you, his eyes tracing over your face before sliding lower, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved. "I've been waiting all day for this," he said quietly, voice low and rough. "All week, really."

He leaned in and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was deep and consuming, tongue brushing yours, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.

He broke the kiss only to press his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven. "God, I missed you," he muttered, his hands sliding under your shirt to touch the bare skin of your back. "Every damn second you were gone, I was thinking about you."

Mike eased you onto the bed, his weight settling between your legs as he kissed you again. His hands worked your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his lips moved lower, trailing down your neck, your chest, each kiss deliberate and hungry.

His fingers skimmed the waistband of your pants, pausing for a moment to look up at you. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

He leaned down, his lips pressing against your collarbone, your chest, the soft skin of your stomach. Each kiss was hot and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His stubble grazed your skin, a delicious contrast to the softness of his mouth.

When he reached your waistband, he paused, glancing up at you through his lashes. "Can I?" he asked, his voice rough but laced with tenderness.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands worked your pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but that sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hands as they smoothed over your thighs.

He took his time, his gaze never leaving you as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his stubble brushing against the sensitive skin.

"So perfect," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his breath hot against you. "I've missed this so much."

His hands spread your legs wider as he continued his exploration, his lips and tongue teasing you until you were trembling beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, his pupils blown with desire, he reached into the nightstand for the small bottle of lube you both kept there. The sound of the cap clicking open sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

He poured a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it aside. His eyes met yours as he coated his fingers, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.

Your body was trembling with anticipation as you felt his hand slide between your legs, his fingers gently parting your thighs. The first touch of his slick fingers against you made you gasp, your hips instinctively arching off the bed as he began to prepare you. His movements were slow and careful, his fingers working you open with a patience that made your heart swell with affection.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near-growl as he worked you open. "God, I've missed feeling like this."

He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further, preparing you for what was to come.

You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure, every touch sending sparks of electricity through you.

When he finally pulled his fingers out, you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips, your body aching for more.

He reached down to unbutton his own pants, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes until he was just as bare as you were.

He settled between your legs, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh.

His words sent a flush of heat through you, your hips moving involuntarily as you chased the feeling of his touch. His free hand gripped your thigh, holding you steady as he added another finger, his movements deliberate.

"You're doing so good for me," he said, his voice softening for a moment. "So good."

The first stretch was intense, a mix of pressure and pleasure as Mike slowly pushed inside. He let out a low, guttural sound as he buried himself to the hilt, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck," he muttered, his head falling forward against your shoulder. "So tight. Feels even better than I remembered."

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust, his breathing ragged as he fought to hold himself still. "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice low but tender.

"It's good," you whispered, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. "Go on."

You clenched around him, drawing a sharp groan from his lips. His movements started slow, his hips rocking gently as he let you adjust. But as your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in slightly, he couldn't hold back any longer.

Mike's pace quickened, each thrust deep and deliberate, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice raw. "God, I've missed this. Missed you."

Your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his ragged breathing and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Every movement, every touch, felt electric, the built-up tension of the past week spilling over in waves of pleasure.

Mike leaned down, his lips brushing against your jaw as he murmured, "You’re taking me so well... so perfect."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he drove into you with a newfound urgency. His hands roamed your body, touching, gripping, as if he couldn't get enough.

By the time you both reached your peak, you were a mess of tangled limbs and breathless moans. Mike collapsed beside you, his hips stuttered, grip on you tightening as he buried himself to the hilt. His groan was deep and guttural, his body shuddering against yours as he spilled into you, pulling you close against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his lips brushing against your temple. "Don't ever leave me for that long again," he said quietly, his voice still rough from exertion as he tightened his arms around you, his breath evening out as he held you close.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Up next i’ll post another Mike Munroe fic ;)

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