#it along with 7 other pieces are on hold

[eveh-koko]

LEADiNG TONE 💚🧡💛 Pythagoras Trio

[awionetka]

today’s outfit. captain of my childhood best friend’s racing team during the final race of the season

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dating in a Dream - Rook Hunt

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Rook Hunt x Reader 🏹🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda)

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Rook’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 2.270 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I hope you enjoy 🏹

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / (Rook) / Vil / Kalim / Jamil / Floyd / Jade / Azul / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho says when you land in the new dream, along with Grim, Silver, Sebek and Epel. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

After Silver checks if Epel is feeling okay after the trip from one dream to another, you all realize that you are in the Savanaclaw dorm. Which makes you wonder if you are in a Savanaclaw student's dream.

“AH! Mon amour!” You hear a familiar voice say.

You look and see Rook already by your side. One of his hands holds your waist to bring you closer to him, while the other holds your hand to kiss the back of it. But that wasn't the Rook you knew, he was wearing the Savanaclaw uniform, had freckles and messy hair tied in a ponytail under what looked like a cowboy style hat. You see the dreamer's bird flying over him.

“Any vision of you is a merveilleuse one! To what do I owe your and your friends' visit today?”

“ROOK?!” Epel says in disbelief, but then focuses on something else. “Wait... Doesn't ‘mon amour’ mean ‘my love’?”

“I have a bad and cringy feeling about this.” Idia's voice comments through the tablet.

“You're Epel Felmier, a Pomefiore freshman, I believe?” Rook says without taking his hands off you. “And you're in the Spelldrive Club, if I recall... Are you here to visit our housewarden Leona?”

“Can’t you have a conversation without clingin’ to my hench-human?” Grim complains and jumps into your arms to separate Rook from you.

“Hehehehe. I see I haven't been approved by you yet, Grim.” Rook says amusedly. “Very well, it seems that the journey to prove myself to you and have your blessing continues. Until then, a forbidden love this shall be. He he. Comme c'est excitant!”

“LO- Ugh! Why're you in Savanaclaw Dorm uniform anyway?!” Grim asks. “Your hair's all scraggly, and you've got stray leaves on your clothes... Vil would throw a fit if he saw you like that!”

“Vil?” Rook asks in astonishment. “You mean Vil Schoenheit, the actor?”

You all discover that, in this dream of Rook's, Vil does not study at Night Raven College, but instead at Royal Sword Academy. And he and Neige are like best friends. Rook, extremely excited, starts telling a lot of things about Vil and Neige to the point of quoting an interview with the two of them in full. Until he suddenly says something much louder than usual.

“Would you stop yelling?” Sebek says. “You startled me!”

“Oh, pardon me. I got rather carried away there... I just have so few people in Savanaclaw I can discuss Vil, Neige, and film in general with. Which also makes it a blessing to have someone like (Y/N) by my side.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Oh mon cher, you are as big a fan of Vil and Neige as I am. No one can match my adoration like you.”

“Thank you, Rook Hunt, this was fascinating.” Ortho says. “I'd actually like to learn more about them...”

“Truly?! Why, I would be delighted!”

The others show their discontent to Ortho, but he explains that the more they understand the differences between this dream world and the real one, the easier it will be for them to find a way to wake Rook.

Excited to tell them more about Vil and Neige, Rook suddenly runs into the Savanaclaw building. You and the others run after him because you can't get too far away from the dreamer. You run to the closed door of his room where you hear a commotion inside.

“How is it taking so long to fetch one magazine?” Sebek questions.

“D-don't worry, I'll be right out!” Rook responds trying to hide his concern. “Don't open that door, whatever you do!”

“Mrr! I'm hearin' weird noises comin' from inside.” Grim says.

“Apologies for the wait! I found more things I positively need to show you... Whoa!”

Fearing that Rook might be under attack by the darkness and ignoring his pleas for them not to enter, they break down the door and enter Rook's room. To find a room completely filled with Neige merch on one half of the room and Vil merch on the other half.

Rook laughs in a strange, almost threatening way and says that since they had seen his room they could no longer leave... without joining him in reverently watching DVDs of his favorite actors! So he forces everyone to sit with him to do it. And of course he makes you sit right next to him.

He made you all watch those DVDs for FIVE HOURS!

“The fact that they played arch-enemies just made those final smiles so... so... beauté!”

“Mrah... After marathoning all those movies and stage plays, I'm exhausted.” Grim says in a sigh.

Ortho thanks Rook for all that information and says that it is already very late and that everyone should go back to their respective dorms and get some sleep. Before they leave, Epel asks Rook about the SDC and he replies that Vil and Neige sang together and he just watched.

“We can have another watch party whenever you like. Perhaps we can put that show on next time. Bon nuit, everyone!”

As you all left Rook’s room one by one, you stayed behind to be the last to leave. Maybe you even did it on purpose to see if Rook would do something. And he did.

As soon as Epel leaves and you are about to leave next, Rook suddenly appears in front of you to casually close the door behind Epel.

“I wonder what I did wrong to receive such cold treatment from you, mon cher.” He tells you with a theatrically brokenhearted look. “I understand not getting a bisou de bonjour with so many people around you. But not even a small, discreet bisou d'adieu?”

He gets closer to you and caresses your cheek, looking you sadly in the eyes. Seeing that you don't back away from his touch, he continues.

“Oh, where did I go wrong? What mistake could I have made to receive such a cruel sentence as deprivation of your touch? Is it my bail conquer your love all over again?” He brings his face closer to yours with a seductive smile, and he sees that you don't move away, quite the opposite. “Or should I continue to claim innocence?”

“(Y/N)!” Grim shouts from the other side of the door. “What are you still doing in there?”

“Did something happen?” Silver asked.

“Stop wasting time human!” Sebek complains. “We all must go for now.”

Rook moves away from you.

“Ah... My diligent jailers. You must go with them so that their worries will cease. But I see that you are in good and capable hands.” He takes one of your hands and kisses the back of it before opening the door for you like a gentleman.

And if you thought about taking advantage of that moment to kiss him, you realized that he seemed to be... enjoying his... “punishment”. So you decided to save that possible kiss for later.

Outside Savanaclaw's dorm it was already night and you and the others talked about Rook's dream and how you could wake him up. Epel has the idea of recreating SDC's performance because it was the crucial moment that the darkness was trying to make him forget. Make him remember that Vil actually despises Neige to the point of doing what he did and Rook's betrayal. You, Epel and Grim taught Silver, Sebek and Ortho the dance steps of the choreography of Absolutely Beautiful so you could take the places of the remaining members of the original group.

The next day, you were the one tasked with getting Rook to go to the Coliseum. You sent him a message to meet you in front of it.

The time you had set was approaching, but you couldn't see Rook. He must have been getting ready to surprise you. You looked around as if you really believed you would be able to see him in time. Suddenly you feel a kiss on your cheek. You look, but you don't see anyone. You look back to the other side where he is right there next to you with a smile.

“Greetings and bonjour, mon cher. I'm here as you requested. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to show you something.” you say.

“Show me something?” Rook smiles. “Coming from you, I wonder with excitement what that might be.”

You take him inside the Coliseum so he can see the replica of the SDC stage up close. You go up on stage to dance with the others and Rook starts to get emotional because a part of him starts to remember that day. The dream begins to distort as if Rook were to wake up, but at that moment two darkness figures appear: Vil and Neige, both in RSA uniforms.

As if it were a real performance, the two of them take the stage after your group and start singing together, which moves Rook again, but in a way that makes him go back into his dream world.

Epel is angered by this and gives Rook a speech about what really happened that day and who they both know Vil really is. His Roi du Poison, their queen is way, way, WAY more poisonous and beautiful! And if he really believes that cheap copy comes even close to the real Vil, and he choosing him over the real one, that makes him more of a traitor right now that he was when he cast that vote for Royal Sword Academy!

And this is what makes the dreams shatter and Rook wake up.

Darkness Vil and Neige try to convince him to back down and accept singing with them, but Rook responds by preparing his bow and pointing an arrow in the direction of the two fake figures. Darkness Vil stands in front of Darkness Neige to protect him.

“What noble friendship you share...” Rook says with tears in his eyes. “And yet that very harmony is proof of my terrible betrayal!”

Rook and the others fight the fake figures and make them melt into darkness.

“Oh, dear pommette! To think I would be woken from my slumber by one bearing a poison that can put anyone to sleep.” Rook hugs Epel so tightly that he gasps for air. “Apologies...” he sobs “Oh, pommette, I can only beg you to forgive my betrayal.”

Epel tells him that he doesn't need to cry, but when he offers him a handkerchief, he realizes that he doesn't have one with him and the two comment on how Vil was right in telling him to carry one. The others talk about their own struggles in their respective dreams so that Rook knows that he wasn't the only one who forgot important things, that this was how those dreams worked to trap them.

“Merci! Oh, merci beaucoup! I cannot thank all of you enough. But there is one of you to whom I owe more than thanks, I owe an apology.” He walks up to you with an embarrassed and regretful face, and he kneels in front of you. “(Y/N), I'm so sorry for causing you so much discomfort. I never hid my love for you, so this part shouldn't have come as a surprise to you, but I can only hope that my behavior has not crossed any boundaries of yours. Please, forgive my shameless audacity. Whatever I can do to be worthy of your forgiveness, please tell me. I will do anything to redeem myself and have a fraction of your trust again.”

He was being so dramatic and still had tears in his eyes that it looked like he was trying to save himself from a death sentence for a horrible and unforgivable offense. The thing is... you like him too... and this was your chance to reciprocate the feeling.

Luckily for you, a simple, almost imperceptible smile from the corner of your mouth is enough for Rook to understand everything.

“Unless...” He stands up and looks you in the eyes with a smirk. “In truth, you enjoyed the experience of having me as your lover.”

You don't need to say anything. Your smile, whatever kind it is, is more than enough for him to understand perfectly. He holds one of your hands. That's how he saw, from the glove he was wearing, that he was still wearing Savanaclaw's uniform.

“In that case,” In the snap of a finger, Rook was back in his Pomefiore uniform and signature bob-cut. “Should we make it real?” he kisses the back of your hand. “Would you be so generous as to make my dream come true, my dear trickster?”

If you try to kiss him, he will stop you with a finger on your lips.

“Non, not yet.” he says despite the pity in his voice. The finger that interrupted your kiss slides to caress your cheek. “As much as I long to discover the wonderful feeling of your lips on mine, this must be something to be discovered in reality, not in a dream. I will wait impatiently for that moment. But sometimes it is this agony of waiting that makes everything so much more special... and intense.”

“ARE YOU DONE OR NOT?!” Grim complained. “Hurry up, we have another dream to go to!”

.

When you return to the real world, no matter what the state of Twisted Wonderland, Rook will find a way to lure you to a secluded place to finally taste your kiss.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[prythianpages]

Protect Me From What I Want | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader ft Azriel | After finding out you're carrying his child, Eris makes a sudden & unexpected visit to Day Court.

a/n: This is pt.7 to my recent Eris series, approx 4K.

warnings: angst (your turn breaking eris's heart), reader is pregnant/ hidden pregnancy trope

Eris did his best to focus.

Someone was speaking. Arguing, most likely. Their voices barely registered in his ears. He was nearly glad Azriel had lunged at him earlier. At least it gave him an excuse for the erratic and uneven rhythm of his pulse. 

He didn’t flinch when Feyre’s fire magic accidentally seared through his sleeve and marked his skin. He said his piece when he needed to, managed to string together words that sounded intelligent, diplomatic even.

But there was a war playing out on his face, different to the current war with Hybern and far more personal.

She carries a child.

The words were a hammer against his ribs.

A child you’ll never meet.

They echoed. Louder each time.

She carries a child.

A child, a child, a child…

His mouth tasted like ash and his lungs felt tight. His body was here but his mind was not. It had fled to you the moment he heard those words. The female he had condemned to heartbreak. The female who now bore his child.

He snuck a glance at Azriel, finding reserved emotions on his face. His shadows were the only expressive thing about him as they fluttered about. Azriel met his gaze, a silent storm still raging in the shadowsinger’s eyes. The tension between the two was sharp, the two of them sharing a mutual thought. You.  

Neither of them moved until Feyre placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. She steered his attention toward a conversation with her and Rhysand, sneaking a wary look at Eris herself. The moment Azriel looked away, Eris didn’t hesitate. He seized the sliver of opportunity, ignoring the stares from his father and brothers that were burning into his back. 

With a sharp breath, he winnowed and headed straight for Day Court.

This was pure desperation. 

There was no strategy, no carefully laid plan...and Eris Vanserra never moved without a plan.

He shouldn’t be here. He should be heading back to Autumn, facing the fallout of the meeting, weathering his father’s fury. He was sure there would be consequences to pay for Azriel’s attack as Beron would see it as humiliating. 

You’d be returning to Autumn soon anyway, given the recall of the emissaries. Had the soldiers he dispatched to escort you and your brother back already arrived here? Should he have found them first, disguised himself among them?

Time was slipping. He wasn’t sure if Helion would return tonight or worse, if Azriel would somehow get to you first. Eris needed to see you now, to confirm the truth for himself.

Helion’s palace was just as grand and ostentatious as the male himself. Gleaming marble floors, sweeping archways, gold glittering into every surface. It was open, and despite it being night, it was painfully bright. Fae lights sparkled along every corridor, making it difficult to blend in and hide. He had been here a couple of times before, which gave him some advantage. At least he knew where Helion typically housed his guests.

He slipped past another archway and that’s when the scent caught him. He’d always been fine tuned to your scent. He followed it with a pounding heart, hope and fear tangling in his throat. 

The trail led him to a door. This had to be your room. Your scent clung to the air, heavier than before. He stood there for a moment, hand raised, suddenly unsure. Were you inside? If he knocked, would you even answer, especially if you knew it was him on the other side? He wouldn’t blame you if you locked him out.

Still, he needed to see you. So taking a deep breath, his hand reached for the door and he decided to open it without knocking.

You weren’t inside. 

The breath he’d been holding for hours released in a hiss. His eyes swept the space, and panic clawed up his throat. What if you weren’t in Day Court anymore? What if Azriel had already taken you? No. That wasn’t possible. Azriel had been preoccupied with Feyre and Rhysand. And your brother—surely even he wouldn’t be foolish enough to let you travel back to Autumn unguarded, not in the middle of a war.

Eris decided to wait, even though his anxiety was gnawing at him like a restless beast. Perhaps you’d gone for an evening walk or were finishing supper. You’d have to return eventually. You lived here now, after all.

With more calm, he looked around the room, curious about the place you’ve been living in for the past weeks. Besides your scent, there was little about you in here. It was so different from your room back in Autumn, which was filled with knick knacks, tapestries and books.

He walked toward the bed, not surprised to find it neatly made. The scent on the sheets reached him and he inhaled deeply. He’d always found your scent sweet and soft and extremely soothing. There was something else woven into it now. A note he couldn’t quite place. It struck something deep in his chest. Had your scent already begun to change…?

He walked to the vanity beside your bed next. His fingers brushed against the silk night robe draped over the chair. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping. Cauldron, he shouldn’t even be here. But his restraint was unraveling fast, tugged loose by weeks of distance and guilt.

A flash of emerald green caught his eye—your jewelry box. You always had a love for pretty, shiny things. Gems had been your armor against the darkness of courtly life. Or at least that’s what you’d say with a grin every time you showed up with a new piece of jewelry. He had gifted you some pieces himself but his favorite on you was one of his rings. You often played with the golden band while holding his hand, twisting it around his finger until, one day, he slipped it off and slid it onto your thumb—the only finger it wouldn’t slip right off. He let you keep it. It looked better on you, anyway. He wondered if you still had it.

He opened the jewelry box…only to find it empty. 

No rings, no necklaces, no earrings. Strange. Just some bundles of herbs and–his heart stopped. He recognized the tiny vials of elixirs, having supplied them for his mother during her pregnancies. His hand trembled as he reached for one of the bottles, reading the label, and the confirmation pierced into his chest like a blade. 

There was no room for denial now. You were pregnant. With his child.

Before he could spiral too far, folded parchment caught his eye, tucked nearly beneath the vials. He reached for one of them, finding the shadowsinger’s signature glaring at him from the bottom of the page.

The paper crumpled in his fist, flames licking up the corners. He tried to smother the rage, but it sizzled in his blood. How long has he known? And why–why was it Azriel comforting when it should’ve been him?

His magic flared, barely reined in as he tossed the smoldering letter aside and reached for the other letter. The parchment was not as creased as the first and when he unfolded it, he recognized it to be your handwriting. His eyebrows furrowed, skimming over the top. It was addressed to your brother.

Dear Varek,

If you are reading this, this means I am no longer here in Day and perhaps, you’re looking for me…

His stomach dropped. You were planning to leave, to run away. His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the chair beside the vanity, Azriel’s earlier blow still throbbing in his ribs. That ache was nothing compared to the one swelling inside his chest. Where were you planning to run to? And with who? With Azriel? The only consolation was that the letter was not finished, meaning you definitely were still here.

The sound of footsteps approaching from the other side of the door had Eris abruptly sitting up. He folded the parchment back up, placing it back into your jewelry box and snapping it closed. He didn’t bother with the letter he found from Azriel. It was already reduced to the smallest pile of ashes on the floor. 

He heard your voice, bidding someone goodnight. Most likely your brother. He didn’t know why–maybe, it was a habit– but he spared a glance at the mirror. What he saw made him wince. Disheveled hair, bruised skin. He looked terrible. 

The door began to open and he began to panic as he was reminded he had no plan. What would he even say to you? Would the words “I’m sorry” ever be enough?

The door clicked behind you and the world stilled.

He turned.

You stood, only a few feet away, frozen. Your eyes locked on his, widening with disbelief and panic. Though the sun shined brightest in this court, you looked so pale and so tired. You looked fragile in a way that twisted his insides.

He had dreaded the idea of you moving on, of finding peace in someone else. But this? This was worse. You hadn’t moved on like he thought you had. Or was it the pregnancy weighing heavy on you? Either way, it was all his fault. He did this to you.

“Y/n—” he rose, moving toward you without thought.

But you flinched.

You flinched from him.

The step you took back felt like a thousand arrows to his back. You maintained as much distance as you could, pressed yourself into the wall as if it were the only thing keeping you from collapsing. He froze mid-step, his hands lowering.

His gaze then dropped instinctively to your middle.

The dress you were wearing flowed loosely over your frame. If there was a bump, it was easily hidden beneath the fabric. You wrapped your arms around yourself anyway, around your stomach, like a shield. As if to protect the baby from him.

And it broke him.

A ragged breath tore from his lungs as he met your gaze again. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. The way he looked at you. The way you held yourself. There was no denying it now. You knew he knew.

“Y/n—”

“No.” You shook your head, eyes shining. He knew you so well that he could see the war within you. The love that hadn’t quite died but also the pain that was beginning to take its place.

His own eyes burned, the emotion swelling too big for his chest. He tried again, one more step. 

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice trembling. “Don’t come closer.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He said but stopped, palms raised. 

Eris was here.

And you forgot how to breathe.

The same flame-colored hair, the same broad frame… but he looked different. Paler. Worn. His usually pristine coat hung unevenly on his shoulders, the right sleeve singed and torn as if he had walked through hell to get here.

And maybe he had.

You had thought about this moment for days, for weeks. Dreamed of it even in the quiet hours of the night, clutching your pillow as if it were him. The moment Eris would come running back to you, eyes full of regret, voice trembling as he begged you to come back with him. If he had come sooner, when your heart still ached with fresh longing, perhaps you might’ve said yes without hesitation.

But now, all you felt was sick, the dinner you just finished threatening to rise back up. Your mind felt dizzy, torn by both relief and something akin to dread. Too much time had passed. Too many nights spent grieving a version of him that no longer existed. Too many mornings convincing yourself you were better off without him. 

Your gaze remained locked, lips parted but useless, caught in the conflicting chaos of your own mind. You caught the exact moment his gaze dropped to your midsection, his amber eyes clouded with many emotions. Wonder, guilt and regret. So much regret.

He knew. You didn’t know how, didn’t know when or who–the only person you had told was Azriel…but he couldn’t have told him? Or could he? While you hadn’t explicitly asked him to keep it a secret, you thought he understood the weight of it. 

Oh, it didn’t matter.

Because now Eris knew.

And gods, the way he was looking at you…

Your arms folded tightly around yourself instinctively. Not to hide the baby, but to protect it. From him. From the pain, from the man who once said you were a mistake. A part of you was scared to hear what he had to say. The baby may have come unexpectedly but you refused to see it as something to regret.

Eris didn’t come any closer, respecting your wishes. “I just needed to see you,” he said quietly, voice fraying at the edges.

Your heart stuttered. Mother above, how many nights had you dreamt of hearing his voice again? And how many more had you begged the Cauldron to silence it from your mind forever so it would no longer haunt you?

“For what?” you managed, blinking rapidly to keep your tears from falling. You would not let him see how ruined you were. Drawing in a trembling breath, you summoned whatever strength remained, and lifted your chin. “So you could laugh at me again?”

He drew back like you’d struck him and your gaze drifted to his neck, catching sight of bruises littering his neck. They looked painful. Was he hurt? Who had done that to him? Your fingers twitched at your side, instinctively wanting to reach out. You pulled them into fists instead. 

No, you stopped yourself. Don’t do that.

“I wouldn’t…” Eris said, his voice hoarse as he struggled with himself. You’d never seen him at a loss for words.  “I wouldn’t have laughed. I–you left Autumn so suddenly, with…” His gaze dropped again to your stomach. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“Now you care?” You hissed at him, the heartbreak in your chest morphing into anger. “You tossed me aside like I was nothing. Told me we were nothing. And now you show up—bruised and broken like that’s supposed to mean something. Did someone finally knock the arrogance out of you?” 

Your chest heaved with the fury you had tried so hard to bury. And then something inside you snapped, something deep beneath your ribcage. You didn’t know what it was, but suddenly, a flood of emotions surged through you, stirring your own. You felt so overwhelmed that you faltered back, your lips trembling.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you said, steadying yourself even as the world threatened to tilt.  “You’re too late. You don’t get to care now.”

A tear spilled down your cheek that Eris so desperately wanted to wipe away for you. You wiped it away yourself, roughly, and the glare you sent his way was devastating. Yet he deserved it and much more, if he was being honest.

“Yes–yes, I do. That is my baby too,” Eris replied, voice bordering on pleading. He didn’t even know where to begin. There were so many tangled threads, so many reasons why he did what he did.  "Listen, Y/n, I am so sorry. There’s so much you don’t know—things I didn’t know how to tell you—"

The door slammed open.

Both your heads snapped toward the sound, and there he was.

Azriel.

And Eris’s blood boiled, heat pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

The shadowsinger rushed toward you and you didn’t flinch. You didn’t pull away. You let him near. For once, Azriel showed some emotion, guilt written clearly across his face as he looked at you.

“I came as soon as I—” Azriel started, voice low and apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he didn’t... I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew.”

Oh.

Eris hated everything about this, his stomach twisting further. He saw it, the flash of betrayal in your eyes as the truth clicked into place. Your gaze shifted between them both, as if trying to decide who had hurt you more. You looked like you might collapse from the weight of it all, your stance faltering.

Azriel caught you immediately, one arm instantly curling around your waist, his shadows coiling protectively around your arms.

And once again, you let him touch you, as if silently accepting his apology. That was the moment something inside Eris snapped. A sound low and primal rumbled from deep within Eris’s chest. You froze, body tensing at the sound.

Azriel stepped forward, placing himself between you and Eris, widening his stance as if preparing for a fight.

 “Get away from my mate,” Eris snarled, the words dragged from his throat like fire.

The room went silent, even Eris’s breath stilled. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Not like this. Not with you seeking comfort into someone else’s arms, not with another male standing between you. But the word had ripped free before he could stop it.

Mate.

He watched, with bated breath, as you turned back to him slowly like it physically hurt to do so. Your gaze met his and he saw it in your eyes before he felt it in his chest. 

A sudden warmth bloomed in his chest, sinking into his bones, threading into his veins. There you were. Your end of the bond. Bright and trembling and real. 

Eris staggered where he stood, his hand twitching at his side, wanting to reach out to you. The bond had been a thread inside him for longer than he could admit. It had been quiet and dormant, one he’d felt the shape of but never dared pull on in fear that it was all his imagination.

But now—now—your side flared to life. It was full of pain, of anger, and underneath it all, humming so faintly, he nearly wept. Love. You still loved him. At least, a part of you did. 

His chest clenched so tightly it hurt. He opened his mouth, the words on the edge of his tongue, trembling and desperate—Do you feel it now? Do you finally see what we are?—but the hope that flared in him was fragile, and it dwindled when your lips parted and your expression crumbled into something far more devastating.

“You knew,” you breathed in disbelief, voice breaking with betrayal. “You knew all this time…”

Eris swallowed hard. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you repeated, the same words from earlier. They were sharper now, cutting into him.

“It does matter,” Eris said, stepping toward you, desperation leaking into every syllable. “You’re my mate and you’re carrying my child. That changes everything.”

His words made your expression darken. The grief in your eyes shifted, hardening into something colder, something angrier. “Don’t be ridiculous, Eris. Don’t make this into something it isn’t.”

Eris winced, recognizing those words instantly. The same words he had that night he broke your heart. The anguish flaring inside manifested onto his face, no longer having control over his emotions. He was growing more desperate by the minute. “Please,” he rasped but you turned your head.  “You have it all wrong. Let me explain—”

“You didn’t want me then,” you cut him off, eyes still fixed anywhere but on him.  “A bond changes nothing. A child changes nothing.”

“Just—please.” He took another step, but froze when you recoiled, when your hand clenched around Azriel’s forearm like a lifeline.

Azriel unsheathed his dagger with his free hand in one smooth, warning motion. “Don’t come any closer.” 

The fire in Eris’s veins was searing, flames licking at his fingertips. He turned back to you, eyes pleading urgently with you to look back at him. “Please, y/n. Just come back home with me. I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

“She’s not going back with you,” Azriel said, his tone sharp and final.

And Eris nearly lost it.

His vision tunneled, the edges of the room blurring beneath the heat of his rage. His jaw clenched so hard it became painful. 

Azriel had no right—no right—to keep you from him. No right to touch you. No right to be the one you leaned on. Not when the bond between you and Eris had finally revealed itself. Not when he was your mate. Not when it was supposed to be him holding you through the storm of your pain.

The very air around him rippled with heat as his magic surged. The flames at his fingertips pulsed with his fury, flickering with the kind of heat that could burn down villages. Across from him, Azriel’s shadows began to shift, writhing in a dance of opposition.

But Eris didn’t strike.

He couldn’t. You were too close to Azriel.

So he turned that rage into words, venom lacing every syllable. “Stay out of this, shadowsinger. Or better yet—be a good pet and crawl back to whatever dark corner Rhysand houses you in.”

Azriel didn’t flinch. He stood firm, unbothered by the power crackling around him. “I’m not leaving her.”

Eris’s voice was a growl. “She’s my mate.”

“Funny thing, Eris… ,” Azriel let out a dark chuckle. “I don’t care about bonds. The Cauldron doesn’t always get it right. Just ask your brother.”

Eris’s flames sputtered, then surged violently. His entire body shook with restraint, because all he wanted was to rip Azriel away from you, to gather you into his arms and never let go.

You’re mine, he wanted to scream. You’re mine and you always have been.

But he couldn’t say it. Not when you were looking at him like he was the enemy. Not when you clung to Azriel like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

Eris had never felt anything like this. This twisting, unbearable ache in his chest. The fury. The helplessness. The regret. Gods, he thought he was protecting you. Thought pushing you away would spare you the pain of being tied to him. He could’ve lived with your hatred—if it meant you were safe. He should’ve burned the whole damn world down before turning his back on you, no matter how scared he was back then.

Now, it was too late. And the cost of his grave mistake stared him in the face, trembling and wrapped in the arms of another male. The flames at his hands flickered and then died. He took a tentative step forward and when you didn’t shrink away, he took another, ignoring the warning glare Azriel sent his way. 

One hand reached toward you, shaking.

“Y/n,” he breathed your name like a prayer. “Please. Come back home with me.”

“I thought I said she’s not going back with you.”

“You don’t get to decide for her.” Eris seethed.

“Fine,” Azriel said with an infuriating calm, turning to you. “What do you want?”

Again, that silence stretched, long and suffocating. And again, you looked between them, between the male who had broken your heart and the one who now stood like your shield, his shadows curling protectively at your feet.

The bond thrummed painfully in Eris’s chest like a tether straining, pulling tight with every heartbeat. Then your eyes finally met his once more and he let everything fall away. His carefully constructed mask. His pride. His fury. All of it.

Eris dropped to his knees before you. “Please.”

His voice cracked on the word. It was a plea for forgiveness. It was hope in its most fragile form. The last thing he had left.

You stared at his outstretched hand, eyes brimming with unshed tears. When your fingers twitched at your side, just the slightest movement, his breath hitched. For a heartbeat, he believed. He believed that you might reach for him, might have it in you to hear him out and perhaps, even forgive him.

Eris held perfectly still, burning from the inside out, as if even a breath might scare you away.

But then—your gaze dropped. Your shoulders sagged, your head turning away and looking back at Azriel. “I want to leave,” you whispered, your voice soft and trembling, yet it shattered him all the same. 

“Far from here. Far from Autumn.”

The air punched from his lungs. You no longer trusted him. The bond raged like a wildfire, wild, desperate and screaming for you and your unborn child. He could only watch as shadows–Azriel’s shadows– wrapped around you and began to take what was once his.

And now, Eris finally understood what it meant to be completely and utterly shattered, torn apart from the inside by the one you loved the most.

a/n: I think this may be the angstiest piece I've written to date? Anyway, I think after this part, this series will consists drabbles/small scenes. I don't know which one to write first so please help me by voting here.

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[dazzlingjaeyun]

ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ – ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊᴏɴɢꜱᴇᴏɴɢ

brother's best friend!jay x fem!reader

୨୧ genre: smut, MDNI | words: 4.3k | cw: mean!jay, brat!reader, a looot of bickering lol, slight degradation, jay is a little manipulative, nipple play?, oral (f & m receiving, head pusher!jay), unprotected sex (hell no), creampie (+ lmk if i missed anything!!) ୨୧

hanna says: biggest thank you to my favorite jay girly, my other half and the one who motivated me to start writing on here in the first place. thank you for proofreading a lot and for letting me yap 24/7, this one's for you mwah @brklynbabyjay

mature content under cut, minors do not interact!

2:47am, your phone read when you grabbed it with a sigh after tossing and turning in your bed for what felt like an eternity. the heat in your room felt oppressing – the flimsy sheets might as well have been a double blanket and your pajamas felt like a winter coat despite barely covering any skin.

with a sigh, you got up from bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. with each step down the stairs you felt the air getting just a little cooler and your tense muscles relaxing just a little more.

you flicked on the light above the sink, before grabbing a glass from the top shelf. it slipped right through your sweaty palms and landed directly in the sink before you could catch it. it didn't break, but the noise cut through the silence of the night so loudly and suddenly that you were sure it could have woken up at least half of the neighborhood.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, wiping off your sweaty palms on your silky shorts and carefully grabbing the glass from the sink.

just as you thought no one had heard your little accident, a sudden, sleep-laced voice broke the silence again and startled you to a point you almost dropped the glass another time.

"are you kidding me?"

you didn't have to turn around to know it was jay's oh so humble self standing in the kitchen door.

"enlighten me, what's your problem this time?" you asked, although you knew the answer. you kept your back to him as you filled the glass with ice cubes and cold water, waiting for him to reply.

jay's jaw clenched at your words. you had woken him up, just as he'd fallen asleep after hours of tossing and turning on the sofa, trying to somehow ignore the heat that pressed down on him like a weight too heavy to carry. and now you had the audacity to ask stupid questions?

"it took me forever to fall asleep and you wake me up cause you can't even hold onto a glass?" he snapped. his voice sounded less sleepy now – still raspy but regaining the usual edge he had to it whenever he was talking to you.

he was your brother's best friend and you'd known him since forever. you were sure the two of you had gotten along back then, when jake brought him over for the first time – sometime in his first year of high school when you were still in middle school. but just a little later, he'd started to pick fights with you every chance he got, which eventually led to him mostly ignoring you, and if he did talk to you, his voice always had that annoyed undertone.

for a moment, you didn't say anything, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a sip, letting the cold run down your throat and hoping it would somehow also cool off the anger that started to bubble up in your chest.

as you stayed silent, jay's gaze remained on you, only now noticing the light blue silk pajamas you were wearing. they were unnervingly short – more skin than fabric, really – and it annoyed him even more how the shorts outlined your ass perfectly, your plush cheeks just slightly exposed from how little coverage the piece of clothing provided.

when you finally turned around, his eyes shot up to your face immediately. you took in the sight in front of you: jay's messy hair and the way his shirt clung to his torso a little more than it usually would – you were pleased to see that he was suffering from the summer heat as much as you were.

"well," you broke the staring contest between the two of you, involuntarily trying to look meaner than the other, "if you didn't sleep in my living room, maybe you wouldn't have to bother me."

jay's eyebrows shot up at your remark. "or if you were a decent person for once and weren't so inconsiderate–"

"i'm inconsiderate?" you interrupted him. "that's rich coming from someone who moved in here two weeks ago and thinks he can make the rules," you huffed.

jay's jaw clenched another time as he took a step toward you, but you didn't back down. you looked up at him, returning the same fiercey look he gave you.

"you think it's fun living with you of all people?" he asked through gritted teeth, his taller figure hovering over you.

"no, but it's not my fault your girlfriend kicked you out," you replied, keeping your voice steady although your heart started to pound in your chest at the way his eyes narrowed slightly. yet, a tiny pang of amusement at how your words seemed to affect him joined the nervousness of wondering how far you could push him before he snapped.

oh, now you were curious.

"honestly, i'm not surprised," you added, your voice not faltering even when he stepped so close your bodies practically touched. "if you were only half as much of an asshole–"

"shut. up." he snapped, accenting each word.

the corners of your lips shot up into a smug grin. "can't stand me talking back to you?"

"i can't stand you in total."

"i never would have guessed," you replied sarcastically, taking a step back to casually lean your back against the kitchen counter. you brought the glass of water up to your neck letting the cold condensed water on its outside cool your skin. "wonder why you hate me so much, though. i don't remember pissing in your cereal when we were kids."

jay's jaw tightened even more. he was so annoyed. there you were, standing in the stupid kitchen with your stupidly short pajamas showing way too much of your skin that looked so. stupidly. soft. and you were bashing him, although he should be the one to talk you down right now. god, he couldn't stand you and how fucking hot you looked when you were snappy.

"you just make it hard not to," he replied, his voice laced with more annoyance than you'd ever heard from him before.

you chuckled at his words, the sound making his blood boil even more. what was so funny about him being annoyed, borderline angry?

"listen, jay bae," you said sarcastically as you put the glass down on the counter behind you, "if you want to stay with me and jake, you'll stop acting like i'm some kind of tragedy. you either ignore me, or you at least pretend to get along with me. deal?"

for a few moments, he just looked at you, his eyes still full of frustration. then, he suddenly stepped forward, his hand reaching for the back of your neck and his lips crashing onto yours harshly.

you were too shocked by his sudden action and the rush of warmth flooding through you to react. he pulled back just as quickly as he'd leaned in, leaving your lips cold with the shadow of his, and looked at you as if searching your eyes for a reaction.

"what the fuck?" you asked, still taken aback.

you wanted to take a step back, but the kitchen counter was already pressing against your back. jay smirked at the shocked expression on your face.

"i said shut up," he repeated his words from earlier that night, as if that would suddenly validate that he'd kissed you. he placed his hands on the counter directly next to your body, trapping you between him and the cold marble surface.

"you don't get to–"

he leaned in again, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. you felt his breath against your skin, and despite the heat he radiated, you shivered – your words caught in your throat.

you could have pushed him away – should have pushed him away, really – but instead, you stood there, too stunned to move, with your heart violently pounding in your chest.

his hands found their way from the kitchen counter to your hips, fingertips pressing into your clothed skin in a way that made you almost feel his frustration.

the warmth of his breath brushed against your neck, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes. you could feel your breath coming faster and your mind growing foggy as his lips traced a line to your collarbone, leaving a heat that shot right down to your core.

“w-what are you doing?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it was enough to make him pause.

"pretending that we get along," his lips brushed against your neck as he replied.

your breath hitched as he slid one of his hands under the thin fabric of your silk top, his fingers digging into the skin on your waist as he held you.

you wanted to push him away, really. everything told you to do so. but instead your hand found its way to the back of his head, pushing him towards your neck again. you couldn't make sense of it, but the way his lips brushed harshly against your skin, and the way you fisted his hair slightly whenever his teeth grazed against your skin, felt like you could finally let out the frustration that had been building up over the past two weeks of living with him.

"you're so goddamn annoying," he mumbled, pulling away from your neck only to push your top up your torso, over your head, and mindlessly discarded it on the floor.

just as you were about to cover your bare skin, he attached his lips to it again, moving from your neck to your collarbones and down to your chest. his hands found their way to your shoulders, holding you in place as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and causing you to shiver, despite the hot summer air. you bit your lip to hold back a moan, yet you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his tongue against you.

"speechless suddenly?" he asked as he pulled off and brought his lips to the other side of your chest.

"fuck you," you mumbled back before quickly pressing your lips together. your fingers were still tangled in his hair, keeping him close to you, but you would not give him the satisfaction of a moan.

"a little more patience," he grinned, before swirling his tongue around your sensitive skin another time.

his words suddenly made you hyperaware of the situation. you shouldn't have let him kiss you in the first place, much less help him to take off your top by voluntarily lifting up your arms. as the realization hit, you quickly pulled him off of you.

"you're disgusting," you said, trying your best to not sound as breathless as you felt.

"oh please," he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place as you attempted to pick up your shirt, "the way you're acting, you're practically asking for it."

"asking?" you echoed in disbelief. he was insufferable. "you have too much of an ego, don't you think?"

jay narrowed his eyes. "no, i think it's the truth," he said, letting go of your wrist and leaning down to your neck another time.

you swallowed hard. "stop playing games, jay," you said in a warning tone, yet you didn't push him away as his teeth grazed your skin again.

"you started the 'game', and you're losing it, darling," he replied, the nickname dripping with sarcasm.

you hated to admit he was right. maybe it was just your sleep-deprived mind, or maybe it was cause the air was so unnervingly thin, but his touch sent shiver after shiver down your spine, covering you in goosebumps and sending waves of heat through your body all at once. even his annoying words started settling between your legs and no matter how much you pressed your things together, it just wouldn't stop.

"look at you," jay said in an amused tone as his eyes flicked down to your legs, your thighs subconsciously rubbing against each other, "bet you soaked your pretty panties for me and i didn't even touch you."

a wave of heat shot up to your face. you didn't know if it was from embarassment or anger, but you didn't bother trying to hide it. "oh please, jay, you couldn't even make me cum if your life depended on it," you said, the words slipping past your lips before you could stop them.

he looked up, his eyes flashing with something you didn't understand as they met yours. "bet," was all he said before sliding your flimsy shorts down your legs, making sure to cup and squeeze your ass just once after he'd taken them off.

before you could react, he knelt down in front of you, harshly grabbed your thighs to spread your legs, and pressed his tongue flat against your clothed core.

your knees buckled slightly at the sudden contact, and you swore you could feel jay's stupid grin. "like i said. soaked." he murmured as he pulled the wet piece of fabric to the side.

"shut up," you whispered, not quite trusting your voice when the way you felt his breath against your wet core already caused you to clench around nothing.

"someone's sensitive," he whispered back, the airflow hitting your skin yet again.

"i said shut up," you repeated, and without wasting another thought, you grabbed his hair and harshly pulled him to where you needed him the most.

jay immediately licked a stripe along your folds, humming in satisfaction. "mouth so dirty but your pussy's so sweet," he mumbled against your skin before focusing his tongue on your clit.

your eyes fluttered shut, only to open again shortly after, as you failed to suppress a quiet moan. the sound went straight to jay's cock, causing him to hum against you another time as he sped up his movements, eager to pull another moan out of you.

he succeeded when he pushed his tongue into your leaking hole and his nose brushed against your clit. you sounded so sweet, he could cum only listening to you – but he'd never admit that.

you pulled on his hair harsher, subconsciously bucking your hips forward for him to reach deeper, as your legs started to shake more. jay grabbed one of them and rested it on his shoulder, never stopping to lap up everything your cunt gave him.

just as you felt your orgasm approaching, your legs closing around jay's head with a force that almost made him dizzy, he pulled back.

your eyes shot open and you looked down to him with an almsot bewildered expression on your face. he looked so hot with your slick covering his lips, his chin and parts of his nose, but right now you really just wanted to punch that stupid grin off his lips.

"seriously?" you asked as he stood up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "i was so close to–"

"so i could make you cum," he cut you off with the same annoying grin.

you didn't reply. instead, you tried to bend down to grab your clothes from the kitchen floor, but jay held your wrist again.

as he didn't let go even after you'd shot him a glare, you rolled your eyes. "congratulations, jay. do you want a trophy for your efforts? i didn't think you were so committed to win the gold medal in orgasm delivery–"

"shut up, will you?" jay interrupted, the smirk quickly replaced by his usual annoyed demeanor. "you're playing so hard to get when–"

"maybe you're just hard to want," you cut him off again, but he only raised his eyebrows.

"right," he replied, sliding one finger through your folds and collecting your wetness, the sudden contact drawing a surprised whimper from you. you quickly bit your lip, mentally cursing yourself for letting the sound slip.

"doesn't seem like 'hard to want'."

you glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze. without another word, jay grabbed your arms and turned both of you around so he was standing with his back against the counter and you were in front of him.

before you could open your mouth to speak, jay placed his hands on your shoulders and firmly pressed down, causing you to sink to your knees in front of him.

"so much talking when you could just put that damn mouth of yours to use," he murmured.

the words made you gulp, but for some reason, they also sent a new wave of excitement through you.

one of his hands moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "let's see if you can only talk big or if you're actually useful for something, hm?" he asked, the tone of his voice almost soft.

the question annoyed you as much as it challenged you. eager to prove him wrong, you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, pulling them and his boxers down in one go, and only hesitating slightly when his hard cock sprang free.

"backing down?" jay cooed, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

you didn't reply, just wrapped one hand around his length, gliding your thumb over his leaking slit to use the precum as lubricant, before slowly pumping your hand up and down.

jay hissed at the contact, his hand tightening around your chin and the other gripping the counter behind him to steady himself.

his reaction made your lips curl up in a victorious smile, but you knew you could do better. you stopped your movements, waited for him to look down at you with a puzzled face, and licked from his base up to his very tip. you swirled your tongue around it just for a second before releasing it again while looking up at him through your lashes.

jay groaned quietly, his hand leaving your chin and finding its way to the back of your head instead, where he gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pushing your head closer to him again. his other hand reached to tap on your lips, which you wordlessly parted just enough to close them around his tip again.

jay pushed your head closer, letting you take his length into your mouth – inch by inch until you gagged around him and he grinned smugly.

"can't take more?" he teased, but you were determined to wipe that damn grin off his face.

you breathed in through your nose and moved your head forward in one go until your nose hit his pelvis and you could feel his tip against the back of your throat, swallowing around it to suppress another gag.

the feeling drew a surprised moan from jay that caused you to look up at him with teary eyes. you swallowed again, humming in satisfaction as you received the same reaction.

"c-can't believe you're actually good at something," jay stammered. "do that again."

you obeyed, the feeling causing his eyes to flutter shut and his head to shoot back with another quiet moan.

he slowly pulled your head off his cock only to harshly push it back forward again after you'd swirled your tongue around his tip. he continued, his movements growing faster and rougher as his hips started to thrust forward every time he brought your head close – hitting the back of your throat each time, while you tried your best to not gag and he tried his best to not moan too loudly, not wanting jake to hear.

your hands reached to grab his thighs, attempting to somehow ground yourself when he slammed his hips forward another time. your jaw was tense, your eyes were burning from the tears that dared to roll down your cheeks, your head hurt from the force with which jay pulled your hair together, and yet all you could think about was finally making him cum and proving him wrong.

as his hips stuttered and his breaths started coming ragged, he held you in place, your nose pressed against his abdomen and the tip of his cock against the back of your throat. you eagerly hollowed your cheeks and swallowed again, pushing him over the edge.

"stay there," he ordered in between quiet moans. you felt his cock twitching as ropes of his cum ran down your throat. you quickly swallowed, yet couldn't stop a little from running down your chin as he finally pulled off.

you quickly wiped your chin with the back of your hand and stood up on shaky legs, shivering at how your arousal made your thighs stick together.

jay looked at you, his chest still rising and falling quickly. "hard to want, hm?"

"my god, fine. just fuck me already," you replied, your voice laced with frustration, which caused his lips to curl up into a little smile.

he turned you around and firmly pressed his hand on your back to guide your chest down onto the cool marble countertop.

"beg for it," he said in the most casual way possible.

you turned your head back and looked at him in disbelief. "seriously now?" you tried to stand up straight, not willing to feed his enormous ego more by begging, but his hand stayed firm on your back as his other slowly pumped his cock a few times before he guided his tip up and down your sensitive folds.

you clenched your fists, trying to move your hips back against his, but jay stepped back.

"i said beg for it," he repeated sternly.

when you hesitated, he lifted his hand from your back, attempting to step away fully. you squinted your eyes and mumbled out a quiet "please." you felt the embarrassment wash over you, but you just really wanted to finally feel him.

"what was that?" jay asked, stepping closer again.

you sighed. "please, jay," you repeated, still quiet but a little clearer than before. a hint of relief rushed through you as you felt jay's hand on your back and the tip of his cock against your needy hole again.

"please what?"

screw that. you were desperate but not desperate enough to ruin your pride entirely.

"you know what, fuck off, i–"

the words caught in your throat as jay suddenly pushed his entire length into your aching hole, knocking the air out of you. the stretch was so intense that you desperately searched for something to hold onto, but jay didn't give you any time to adjust as he pulled out almost entirely only to snap his hips forward harshly again, drawing a chocked moan from you when his tip hit your cervix.

"gonna finally put you in your fucking place," he said, hissing at the way your walls sucked him in so perfectly with each thrust.

"j-jay..." you whimpered once the pain gave way to pleasure, hating yourself for giving in to him, but also not caring enough to make him stop.

he groaned lowly at the way his name rolled off your tongue, mixing perfectly with the sounds of your wetness and his skin slapping against yours.

"takin' me so well," he mumbled in between his thrusts. you felt so warm and tight around him, the moans you tried to muffle clouding his mind until there was nothing left but you and the way you felt.

the sudden praise caused you to clench around him involuntarily. his hands moved to grab your hips, holding you in place as he continued to pound into you. he looked down to where your bodies connected, watching as his cock disappeared in your pretty cunt with each thrust.

"you're so stupid," he muttered, slipping back into the way he alway spoke to you, "for ever letting other idiots have their way with you when i was right there all the time," he blabbered out, slamming his hips into yours even harder.

you wanted to speak back, but each thrust knocked the air out of your lungs all over again as you placed your hands on top of his to somehow ground yourself.

"so tight for me," he mumbled at the way your walls clenched around him the closer you came to your high. "mhh, so wet"

"o-only for you," you managed to slur, way too far gone to realize what you'd just said, only focusing on the tight knot in your stomach that was dangerously close to snapping.

"jay, i-", you cut off as your orgasm washed over you in waves, each feeling heavier than the one before. jay brought one of his hands to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans as his own high hit him at how strongly you clenched down on him.

you felt his cock twitching inside you before the warm ropes of his cum painted your walls white. he thrusted into you a few more times, sloppy and less energetic, riding out his high, before coming to a halt.

he took a few seconds to catch his breath. then, he quickly pulled out of you, the sudden feeling making you hiss. as you slowly lifted your chest from the counter, turning around on wobbly knees, jay had already pulled up his shorts again.

he bent down, picked up your pajamas and threw them in your direction. you caught them, wordlessly putting them back on as the reality of what had just happened started to crash down on you.

jay walked past you, opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, before giving you one last glance and heading toward the door.

"wait," you held him back. he turned around to look at you, raising his eyebrow in question.

"what," you hesitated, "what... are we doing now?" you asked, averting your eyes and looking at the floor in front of you instead.

jay shrugged. "pretending that it never happened," he said casually before walking out the door.

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[thelastofme-l]

A 7/11 full of weed?

(Jesse x f!reader)

Word count: 7815

Summary: You and Jesse end up seeking shelter from the snow storm in a 7/11.

Warnings: fluff, dangerous temperatures, mentions of scars, friends to lovers, weed, mention of sexual abuse/trauma, yearning, smut 18+, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, happy ending, angel baby!jesse, golden boy!jesse

A/n: I need more Jesse fics and appreciation so I decided to type this up to sooth myself until I find more LOL Enjoy :)

"I thought you said the storm was gonna pass right over us?" You groaned from your horse as she trotted beside Jesse's. What started as a light snow fall turned into a blizzard in the matter of a couple hours as the two of traveled further on the patrol.

"I was being optimistic" He calls back, tucking his face further into his coat in an effort to shield himself from the weather.

"Yeah well—,” You shouted up to him over the howling wind, “Your optimism is gonna cost me my fingers"

You weren't lying. Your fingers were completely numb. The gloves you had been wearing stood no chance against the negative temperatures.

Jesse looked back at you then and you tried to make out his expression, but you could hardly see him in the white out.

He pulled his radio from his thick coat and spoke into it. You were struggling to hear him over the wind but knew he was calling back to Jackson.

"I know a place we can hold up" He yelled over, this time turning his reigns off the main path where the patrol usually stayed. "Follow me"

You didn't have to be told twice. After a couple more minutes of riding and snow hitting you in the face, buildings appeared in the distance. One that looked to be a brick building under all the snow with faded green and what looked like a 7 on the roof. The other some sort of garage, just across the way.

You watched as Jesse slid off his horse and moved toward what looked to be a garage door. You followed suit, feeling like needles were shooting through your body as you landed on the ground. Fuck.

You stood next you him, watching as he brushed the fresh fallen snow away to expose a rusty handle. You gripped the cold metal next to his hands and attempted to open it with your combined strength. It wouldn’t budge.

"Fuck" He groaned, standing at full height and smacking at the door in frustration, “It's frozen shut"

You glanced at the horses, knowing they were just as cold and could freeze to death if they didn’t get out of the weather soon, "Jesse, what are we gonna do?"

The snow whipped around between to the two of you, swirling white dust clouding your line of sight.

He thought quickly, kicking hard at the latch of the door before moving along the left side and doing the same. It seemed to be working, you could hear the ice cracking.

You copied him on the opposite side of the door, trying to kick hard despite the cold, shooting pain. When he tried the door again, it slid up with ease, exposing a small garage with concrete floors and bales of straw in the corner. It was bare and still cold but it would have to do.

You grabbed the reigns of both horses and ushered them inside as Jesse ripped at a square bale and tossing chunks in front of the animals. Once there was a generous amount left out he was rushing again.

"Follow me" He called again, pulling you away from the horses and back out into the snow. He pulled the door down, closing it tightly before running straight for the other building. Once at the door he moved a large piece of wood before pushing you inside.

You could've never prepared for the sight before you, no matter how distracted by the cold. Marijuana plants lined the inside. To the right of the door hung dried leaves and jars on shelves. There was supplies everywhere for the plants and just pass them in the back of the building was a wood burner that Jesse was already squatted in front of, trying to get it up and running.

All of the once clear windows were painted black and faded, however still preventing anyone from looking in.

"Am I fuckin' hallucinating?"

"Maybe–" Jesse was rushing around the room, moving pass you to the door you'd come in and locking it with another piece of wood that was sat off to the side. He set it in place and pushed on the door insuring it was locked before walking pass you again, "Do you see a 7/11 full of weed?"

"Uh huh" You mumbled, nodding your head as you reached out and touch one of the dry leaves.

"Then no" He said simply.

"Are we safe in here?" You asked, snapping out of your utter surprise as an overgrown tree scratched against one of the windows. Jesse moved back in front of the wood burner, fiddling with the knob again before it ignited.

"Never had an issue with raiders or infected, no one knows this place," He explained, sighing when he felt the small amount of warmth radiating from the box. He glanced over his shoulder at you, "So yeah, it's safe"

You nodded, shivering in your spot still by the door.

"Get over here before you freeze to death" He added, holding his hands out in front of him, absorbing the heat, "It's not a lot, but it'll do"

You did as he said, moving into the back of the room and sitting in front of the heat source on the ground beside him. He was right, it wasn’t doing much but it was better than nothing.

Jesse stood from his spot and moved behind the couch. He had stripped his coat, hat and gloves off, hanging them to dry much like the weed near the front.

After a moment he came back and stood in front of you. When you looked up at him from the ground you noticed he held his hand out expectantly, "Give me your stuff"

"No way, I'm freezing" You argued crossing your arms over the wet coat.

"If you keep them on you'll definitely freeze to death" He argued, taking it upon himself to pull your knit hat off. "They're soaked. If we hang them they'll be dry by the time we leave here"

You huffed, knowing he was right. He always seemed to be. You stood in front of him unzipping the coat and shrugging it off before peeling off your gloves. You hissed at the numbness that was still plaguing your fingers.

You turned just enough so Jesse couldn't see them as he hung your things up next to his. When he was done he pulled the small couch over in front of the heater and shook the dust off the old blankets that were thrown onto it.

You shivered involuntarily, with the coat removed you were left in only a thin blue long sleeved shirt and jeans. The ends of your hair were wet across your back from the snow that had gathered as you rode.

"You know in case of emergencies, such as this, you should be wearing more layers" He reprimanded behind you, seeing you holding yourself in an effort to get warm.

"Thanks captain obvious" You tried to stop the chattering of your teeth to prove a point but you couldn't. He instructed you to sit down on the couch and when you did he placed one of the blankets over your shoulders. It was thin, but provided a way to lock in the heat that would hopefully be coming back soon. "I-I'll r-remember that if we s-survive this"

"We'll be fine" He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew hot hair into them. He paced for a minute as if he were thinking, "As long as this heater does its job"

"Is this your place?" You asked, changing the subject as you watched him walk to a box on a shelf on the other side of the room, "Your little hide out?"

"Something like that" He said, digging around. You could see his back muscles flex under his black long sleeve shirt. When he found what he was looking for he turned back to face you and you snapped your attention back to the fire inside of the burner, as if you weren't just staring at him. "It was Eugene's place, he'd found it a couple years back, decided to keep the plants going and harvest them. He showed me once while we were on patrol and swore me to secrecy. Now that Eugene is gone, I come by and harvest what I can"

"Jesse the stoner" You quipped, watching the orange flames dance in the box. He walked back toward you with a package, small enough that it fit in just one of his hands. He was fiddling with the wrapping when you laughed, "Never pegged you as that guy"

"Not a stoner" He defended, finally opening the package that said Hostess on the front. "Just when I need to take the edge off or something"

"I knew it" You breathed, legs bouncing up and down as you sat, "Your sunny disposition makes so much sense now"

"Shut up" He laughed as he held out one of the cakes, waiting for you to take it. When you quirked an eyebrow at it, he added, "Whoever set this place up had a stash of these under the floor board. Eugene said they were popular back before, said they could last through a nuclear apocalypse and still be edible—they're called Twinkie's"

"Oh I've heard of those. Kevin had a whole speech about them a little while back, talking about things he missed from before," You moved the blanket so you could reach out and grab it from him, "—and something called Oreos"

The second he saw your hand he cursed under his breath. The skin was red and swollen, spreading up to your wrist with a waxy like sheen.

"Fuck—let me see your other hand" He revoked the Twinkie, sitting it back down in the plastic and moving to sit beside you on the couch.

You held your other hand out; it was just as red and waxy. Jesse immediately enveloped your hands, cupping them with his own. "Can you feel this?"

"Kinda" You shook your head slowly, teeth still chattering, "They're pretty numb"

You really weren't worried until you saw the look on Jesse's face. He brought the cupped hands to his mouth, blowing hot air directly into them and rubbing his hands over them, creating friction.

He could see that you were still shivering, legs bouncing rapidly against the concrete floor. He dropped one of his hands, pushing the blanket to the side and touching your arm through the fabric.

"We need to get your warm quick" He sighed, suddenly dropping your hands and moving to grab more blankets. He draped another blanket over your shoulders and motioned for you to lie down. Again, you did as he said, trusting that he knew what to do in the situation.

You watched him, face now against the couch cushion with the blanket pulled up to your chin. You were still shivering as he put two more logs into the burner and closed the grate door again.

"This sucks" You said in an attempt to joke about the situation, but you stuttered on the words. Jesse snapped his head to you, seeing your lips were tinged purple.

He was standing again and you watched him kick his snowy boots off before moving to the end of the couch. You could feel him lift your feet and tug carefully before your boots and socks were removed, leaving them bare.

"Even your socks are soaked" He muttered pulling the blanket back down over your feet and hanging your socks up next to the gloves and coats. "You really should get some new boots if you're gonna keep patrolling out here"

You laughed quietly, "I don't think I'm fond of patrols anyway, maybe I'll try again in the s-summer"

"Scoot over" He instructed, standing back in your field of vision.

If you could feel your cheeks, you're sure they would be blushing, "W-what?"

"Relax, I just want to share some of my body heat with you" He explained, watching your wide eyes before adding, "You're going to become hypothermic if we don't bring up your body temperature"

Before you could speak again he was reaching down and physically moving you over, not taking no for an answer.

He laid back with his head against the arm of the couch, next to you and lifted the blankets so he could get under them with you. You held your breath, already feeling warmth radiating from him. Luckily, the couch was long and wide, enough for you both to fit fairly comfortably.

"I don't bite" He chuckled when he noticed how far you were pressed into the back of the couch trying not to touch him. When you didn't laugh, he cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm just trying to help—"

"I know" You responded quietly, body involuntarily shaking from the cold or from the fact that he was laying so close next you, you honestly weren't sure.

He'd heard about your time on the outside before you were taken into Jackson. You'd told him how you were a drifter between different groups as you traveled from the Cleveland QZ. You never went into detail about your time on the outside but he knew that it placed you in less-than-ideal situations. He also knew you didn't like to be touched; that much he'd learned watching you recoil from hugs or any physical contact from others in Jackson.

"Just try to relax. You should warm up soon" He suddenly said, adjusting against the worn-out cushions.

“What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched his eyes flutter close, moving to sit up off the couch.

"Stay,” He said calmly, before looking at you once more. You were still not touching him, staring at him with bewildered eyes, “You need to stay under the blanket, I’m just resting my eyes until you’re warm again, okay?”

He waited for you to nod and slowly sink back into the cushions before he closed his eyes again, still lying on his back. You watched him for a while, until his breathing evened out and you were sure he was sleeping. His lips were parted slightly and quiet snores were escaping. His hands were intertwined loosely on his chest. You appreciated that he had kept his hands to himself.

But you hated the fact that you could feel the space between the two of you, under the blanket, become an oven. Of course, he was right, again.

Over the course of about thirty minutes, you had moved closer to him, making sure he was still asleep as you did. You were starting to get the feeling in your hands and feet back, the numbness slowly dissipating.

Before you knew it, you were tucking your hands against him, sliding them around his bicep so they were pressed against his side. Careful not to wake him you moved closer to rest your cheek against his shoulder. After about an hour you were asleep too, feeling content as the shivering subsided.

*

When you opened your eyes the light through the painted windows was completely gone. The only light was the orange glow from the burner, lighting up the room.

For a moment you forgot where you were, feeling hazy from sleep until you felt hot breath against your hair. You could feel the weight of an arm wrapped around your shoulder and the hard plane of a chest.

At some point the two of you must've adjusted because he had his arm under you and you were now nestled into his side with your head fully on his chest and the blanket pulled up to your face. You wanted to recoil at the feeling of him holding you in place but you didn't. You felt warm down to your feet that had managed to find their way under his legs for warmth.

The wind whistled outside of the thin windows telling you the storm was still raging outside of the building. You briefly thought about the horses but knew the garage across the way was the safest place for them. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt Jesse shift under you, turning ever so slightly in your direction and tightening his hold on you. You knew it had to have been a reflex but it still made your stomach jump.

With him facing you more now you could see his peaceful expression and feel his breaths escape and fan over your forehead.

It'd been a while since you had let a person get this physically close to you and it surprised you that you didn't mind it. Instead, you moved closer to him, if it were even possible.

"How do you feel?" His voice came out groggy and thick, eyes still closed.

Fuck.

"Uh—better”

"That's good" He said lazily, moving to yawn before realizing his arms were around you. It was his turn to go stiff and panic, "Shit, I-I didn-"

"It's okay—really, I don't mind" You interrupted stopping him from removing himself from you, "You're like a heater"

A deep chuckle erupted from his chest as he relaxed at your words, sinking back into the cushions. "I'm glad I could offer the service"

A silence fell over the two of you now that you were both awake. Neither of you moved from your spots, just listened to the wind howling outside and watching the flames dance in the burner.

"Guess we won't be back in Jackson tonight"

"Guess not" You replied, trying to ignore the way his muscles felt under the fabric of his shirt.

"How do your hands feel?" He asked, remembering that they were on the borderline of frostbite earlier.

You removed them from his arm and out from under the blanket knowing it would be easier for him to look at them and see if you should still be concerned or not.

He took his free hand and grabbed your palm moving it around in the lowlight and examining it. His calloused fingers brushing your skin. "They look a lot better, might make it back with all your fingers and toes after all"

"You thought I was gonna lose my fingers?" You asked, biting at the inside of your cheek as he continued to play with your fingers even after he'd examined them. When he realized what he was doing he dropped your hand and cleared his throat.

"It crossed my mind" He teased, moving his legs under the blanket before turning to look over at you. Your gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips, before flickering back to meet his gaze. You hadn't realized how close he was until you heard his breath hitch in his throat. He sat up suddenly, knocking you off of him in the process.

"You hungry?" He asked, standing from the couch completely and walking over to grab the Twinkie from the counter. You hated that you immediately missed the warmth of his body next to you. "We can heat these over the burner"

"Uh— yeah sure, thanks" You mumbled, sitting up and bringing the blanket with you. The air in the garage was warmer than before but nothing compared to the heat you were just feeling.

He removed the pastry from the plastic again, this time setting them on an old glass plate and positioning them right in front of the heat.

"Is there anything to drink here?" You asked, not really thirsty but attempting to fill the awkward silence.

"Yeah, over in the file cabinet there" He instructed using his free hand to point over to the corner of the room. You lifted yourself off the couch immediately regretting it as your bare feet made contact with the cold concrete. When you opened the file cabinet you found a dusty bottle of brown liquor.

"Oh fancy" You hummed, grabbing the bottle and moving back over to the couch. "Some whiskey should keep the cold away"

After a minute he moved the plate away from the heater and sat next to you on the couch.

You twisted the cap off the bottle of whiskey and taking a small sip. The liquor burned your throat as you swallowed but it was good, well good in your standards.

"Those things look gross" You admitted watching him flip them over as they cooled down. You set the bottle between the two of you on the couch.

"Ye of little faith" He retorted, shaking his head at you and handing you one of the cakes. You took it in your hand and watched as he picked his up. It was golden in color, thick and spongey. "Trust me, you'll like it"

You weren't sure when you started this habit of trusting people, especially men. You assumed when you got to Jackson that it would be the same as everywhere else. You weren't to keen on trusting anyone again. But here you were picking up the likely expired dessert.

You mirrored his movements as he brought the cake to his mouth and took a bite. The texture confused you at first until you tasted the creamy filling inside. It was sweet and heavy yet light, like a whipped cream.

He watched your eyes go wide and you cover your mouth as you spoke, "I've never tasted anything like this"

"It's good right?" He urged, swallowing his bite before taking another.

You did the same and after just a couple of bites it was gone. You cursed yourself for not savoring every bite.

"No wonder the dude had these stockpiled" You squealed, tucking your legs up on the couch and turning to face Jesse. "I'm not kidding—I think that just changed my life"

He took a swig of the whiskey, offering you another sip, which you took before closing it back up. He nodded, amused at your reaction, "And think about how they would taste fresh and not expired"

"Why would you do this to me?" You whined throwing your head back before smacking his arm.

"Hey–" He held his hands up in surrender on the other side of the couch. "You can just say ‘thank you Jesse for introducing my palate to this delicious old world delicacy’"

You rolled your eyes at him, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and taking another swig, feeling the liquid settle in your stomach.

"How about thank you Jesse for keeping me warm"

That caught his attention, something in the way you said it. He shifted on the couch, taking the bottle and sitting it on the table near the couch.

He stood up from his spot and moved to the doors where the two of you had come in. He moved the board and opened the door just enough to look outside. A gust of wind and snow came barreling through the opening, feeling like it slapped you in the face. He closed it again, putting the board back in a locking position.

"I think we should try to head back at first light, I have a feeling this storm is only going to get worse"

You nodded, standing from the couch, this time not caring how cold the floor was. You kept the blanket around your shoulders and let it drag across the ground behind you as you walked. "We've got a couple hours to kill"

He caught you looking at him and moved his attention to the leaves hanging up. He was tall enough that he could reach them easily. "I think I'm going to do up some jars, maybe take some back to town with us"

You moved to the part of the building where the plants were, a lot of them looked dried up and dead, most likely from the cold months and the loss of sun.

"I still can't believe you are Jacksons weed dealer" You laughed, watching him work. You opted for sitting on the counter to the left of him to get your feet off the concrete. Once up you tightened the blanket around your shoulders.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" He ponders, meticulously handling the buds.

"I dunno" You sighed, picking at the loose threads of the blanket and kicking your feet back and forth. "I guess because you're the golden boy of Jackson"

He made a sound, looking over to you. "I am not the golden boy"

You bit your lip to stifle your laugh, but you couldn't contain it. He definitely was. Everyone in town knew they could depend on Jesse. He always kept his word and was nice, sometimes too nice, getting himself roped into helping the elderly in the community or playing with the kids. But was also strong and well versed in combat. Tommy and Joel trusted him like a son.

"What's so funny?" He asked, incredulously. He closed the lid on the 1st jar before turning to look at you.

"Oh nothing" You smiled, clearing your throat to cover the laughing again, "I just think it's funny that you can't see how much of a golden boy you are"

He rolled his eyes at you, crossing him arms over his chest and leaning against the counter that you were sat on. "Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you can be?"

"Hm— infuriating? No" You made a motion in the air while you thought, "Hilarious, yes"

"Now that I think of it annoying would be a better description" He teased, his eyes fixed on you.

You rolled your eyes back at him, glancing around the large room. You weren't sure if it was the liquid courage talking or the silence of the room but you felt the need to speak again.

"You know you're like the only guy around our age who didn't come onto me when I first got to Jackson," The smirk he wore faltered as he pressed him lips in a straight line. He didn't know how to respond, so he didn't say anything at all. When you were meant with silence you pressed, leaning forward on the counter, "Why is that?"

When he realized you were waiting for an answer he shrugged, moving back to his workstation and filling another jar.

You were intrigued by his change in demeanor, so again you pressed, "Was I just that repulsive?"

"Jesus, Y/N—come on" He sighed, not finding the conversation amusing in the way you did. He had remembered how broken you looked when Tommy first introduced him to you and the way you flinched when he held his hand out to you. "Of course, not"

You'd been found by a patrol from Jackson during the warmer months after you had been traveling with a group of four guys. Over the years you'd learned to steer clear of men in general, but they had managed to earn your trust when they saved you from a heard of infected. You were cornered and accepting your death when they came rolling in. They took care of you for a couple of days as you passed through the mountains. They were nice enough until you refused to give them the one thing they wanted. The one thing they saved you for. When you wouldn't put out they decided they would take you by force.

They had beat you half to death and left you for dead afterward.

You distinctly remembered the first time you had seen yourself in the mirror of the infirmary once inside the walls of Jackson. You barely even recognized the woman who looked back at you. Swollen and mangled face with cuts and bruises scattered down your neck. When you were healed enough, with just subtle bruising and healing cuts you were introduced to the town. In the first couple of days, you were approached by many of the eligible bachelors, except the one that had caught your eye.

When you opened your mouth ready to make another sarcastic comment, he spoke again. "You were so different back then, like if the wind blew too hard you would fall over or somethin’”

That wiped the smirk right off your face.

He screwed the lid onto another jar before turning to face you again, seeing the expression on your features, before continuing, "The last thing you needed was those assholes trying to get with you"

You nodded, puffing your cheeks awkwardly and tapping your fingers on the surface of the counter beside your thighs. He was right. It was the last thing you needed or wanted at the time, which is why you avoided and turned down anyone who pursued you in the weeks that followed. Instead, you focused on getting stronger, never wanting to be in a situation where you couldn't defend yourself again.

That's how you became closer with Jesse. He would spend time sparing in the barn with you, teaching you different techniques for hand-to-hand combat and self defense. Soon enough you came out of your shell, especially around him.

You always wondered why he never made a move on you, even after months of training together every day.

He moved beside you to grab another jar down from the shelf behind your head, "Well—uh what about now?"

He froze at the question, arm lingering close your head before he set the jar next you on the counter, turning slowly to look at you. His gaze lingered on your eyes a little too long before he made himself look at the hand that you had moved to fiddle with the jar. "Yeah, things are different now"

"Different how?"

"You ask a lot of questions" He spoke in a low voice, one that he reserved for when the two of you entered abandoned buildings or there were infected around.

"I'm a curious person" You quipped back, meeting his eyes again. This time he didn't look away.

"I've noticed that" He said again, quiet enough that you could hear the wind just outside of the window howling again and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You didn't speak again, instead reaching out and grabbing his sleeve, tugging it ever so slightly toward you. From your spot on the counter top you were easily his same height, something you only experienced on horseback.

Your finger hooked into his belt loop before glancing at his lips again. He's so close now that you feel the heat radiating from him again. Before you let yourself overthink, you lean forward and press your lips against his.

His lips part ever so slightly, but he doesn't reciprocate, instead pulling away after a couple of seconds and blinking at you.

"What's wrong?" This time you were whispering, feeling your cheeks heat up at the thought of him not wanting this, "Sorry, I thought—I shouldn't have—"

"No, fuck—no that's not it. I don't want to pressure you or anything just because we are trapped here for the night and–"

"Damn," You giggle at him, now moving your hands up his arms and intertwining them behind his neck. "You're such a respectful, golden boy you won't even kiss me after all this time"

"I'm serious" He whispers but still places his hands on either side of the of you, trapping you against the counter.

"So am I" You whisper back, using your leverage on his neck to pull him closer to you. As you do a strand of his black hair falls into his face and you tuck it back behind his ear, catching a glimpse of his stressed expression, "Do you see anyone holding a gun to my head? Holding me against my will?"

He searched your eyes, eyes dropping to your lips as you leaned closer, your eyes closing as you anticipated the touch of his lips against yours again. His breath was hot, his lips gently touching your own, a soft and teasing caress.

As your lips met again he melted against you, hands moving to hold your waist. His kisses were slow and sensual, as if he was testing the waters, still hesitant and holding back. Instead of letting him overthink you moved your thumb against the nape of his neck soothingly and smiled against his lips, shrugging the blanket from around your shoulders.

He pulled back briefly, searching your face again before capturing your lips once more in a deeper, more passionate kiss. His hands moved to cradle your face as you deepened the kiss, thumbs tracing soothingly across your skin. Slowly, he parted your lips, his tongue running along the soft skin of your bottom lip, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, drawing you closer to him. The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting you, claiming you, consuming you.

He angled your head back giving him better access to explore with his tongue as you let a low moan escape your lips. He made a sound in response and you opened your legs to him needing him closer to you.

He settled between your legs and you pulled back just enough to mutter, "You smell like marijuana"

His laugh vibrates your lips making butterflies erupt in your stomach. Those butterflies only got worse when you felt him nip at your bottom lip.

You smirked, pulling away and pushing his head back, exposing his neck to you as your lips trailed down the skin. You heard his breath catch in his throat as his hands gripped at your thighs, "Fuck," he muttered.

Before you let him kiss you again you were reaching for the hem of his shirt, pulling it out from where it was tucked into the waistband of his pants. He got the idea and reached for it, pulling it all the way off leaving his chest bare and exposed to your touch. He shivered slightly as the cool air hit his skin, eyes locking onto yours as you took in the sight of him.

You'd seen him shirtless before, in the hotter months working or building around town when it was entirely too hot to wear a shirt, but never like this. Never this close. He pulled you closer once again, his chest pressed against you as his mouth sought out yours.

As you wrapped your legs around his waist, you could feel the strength and solidity of his body beneath your thighs. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as he lifted you effortlessly off the counter, carrying you as if you weighed nothing. His grip was firm, secure, and you felt a sense of safety as he held you tight against him.

His footsteps faltered slightly as he continued to kiss you, his attention fully focused on the taste of your lips and the feel of your body in his arms. He was wrapped up in the moment, intoxicated by your touch and the way your body responded to his. Unaware of his surroundings, he stumbled slightly, almost tripping over a box of tools on the floor.

Startled by your sudden gasp, Jesse quickly steadied himself, holding you tightly against him. He could feel your face buried in his shoulder, your body laughing slightly from the near fall.

"Please don't drop me" You whined, peppering light kisses along his collarbone.

"Don't worry, I've got you" He let out a low chuckle, his lips brushing against your ear, amused at your reaction and grip on him.

He focused on walking now, moving his thumb against your thigh as he did. You had to bite your lip at the sheer strength he had. You knew he was strong and, well— jacked, but you were not prepared for this.

Jesse carefully lowered himself onto the couch, positioning himself so that you were straddling his lap, your legs still wrapped around his waist. His hands moved back to your thighs, his grip firm yet gentle as he held you close to him.

Now safely settled, you kissed him again, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and hips moving against him. Your tongues fought for dominance against each other and he kept his hands on your waist, like the golden boy he was.

You rolled your hips lightly against him and smirked when his body jerked. You moved one of your hands from their place, blindly reaching for his hand on your waist. When you did you captured it, dragging it up and under your shirt on your back.

You hissed at how cold his fingers were but quickly recovered when you felt his calloused touch against your skin. You felt the corners of his mouth turn upward as he spread his fingers, moving them carefully.

His other hand found its way under the shirt and on your back soon after, moving up toward your shoulder blades to bring you closer to him.

You pulled back, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head in a quick motion, tossing it somewhere near the wood burner.

He gaped at you, not for your boobs or exposed skin, but for the scar that ran from your collarbone straight in a diagonal line and stopping at the top of your left breast. 

He'd seen you in low cut tops in the warmer months but he'd only ever gotten glances when it peeked through, it never occurred to him that it continued on.

You moved your hair to the side, fingers falling to fiddle with the button of his pants, hoping it would move the moment along, but it didn't.

Instead he took his index finger and traced the scar, leaving goosebumps in his wake, "What's this from?"

"Knife" You said simply, leaning in and capturing his lips with your own; a plea to shut him up.

He kissed you back but only for a minute before he turned his head to the side, breaking the seal of your lips, "What happened?"

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention to his neck, sucking and kissing at the skin. He seemed to stiffen, so you huffed, moving back to sit up straight, "Remember the story I told you about the group I was with before Jackson?" You didn't wait for him to answer, you knew he remembered, he always remembered stories you told him, "They did it"

"It was deep" He said, examining it again before looking up at you when you let out a dry laugh. "You never said what happened"

You moved your hands from his pants because it clearly wasn't helping you change the subject, and instead settled them on his shoulders.

When you thought about being half naked with Jesse this is not what you had in mind.

You looked at the space behind him, where you two had started this whole thing, biting at your cheek. You didn't want to sugar coat it for him, the way you did the others who had the nerve to ask. You liked Jesse, you really liked him. You wanted to be honest. "I—uh, thought they were good men– they got me out of a sticky situation with some infected…"

While you spoke Jesse played with your hair, twisting the ends gently between his fingers. "I didn't plan on staying with them, I preferred to be alone out there. But they told me they had families; wives and daughters—said they were about a four day trek away, talked me into it. About a day later they came on to me around the fire after they set up camp—"

You hated that you had his full attention, feeling nervous under his gaze suddenly while you spoke, "I thought it was a joke at first, told them I wasn't interested but they—uh didn't like that"

"So when George and the others found you, that was—" He trailed off, Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You nodded, finger nails absentmindedly pressing into his skin, "They beat me, cut me— afterwards they held me down, took their turns and left me for dead"

You felt like you were floating outside of your body, seeing yourself on Jesses lap from the side, shirts missing and an uncomfortable silence.

"I didn't know" Jesse said, hands on your thighs, rubbing them soothingly, bringing you back to your body.

"It's not exactly something I tell a lot of people—or well anyone" You were the most vulnerable you'd been right there in that moment and you hated it, "At least I got a cool scar from it"

Jesse didn't laugh, instead he moved his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek. The gesture and expression on his features instantly made you feel the same way you'd felt the day you were saved. Broken.

And he must've realized because before you knew it he had moved his hand to the back of your neck and was pulling you against him. You let him, body curling into him and face burying into his neck. His hands moved to rub your back soothingly.

You hadn't hugged someone for longer than you'd like to admit, and after that incident you avoided being touched all together.

"Jesse" You mumbled, voice muffled against his skin. When he hummed you continued, "Does all that—uh bother you? I know it's a lot and the—"

He didn't let you finish, moving his head and catching your lips in a soft kiss. He pulled back then kissed you again before pressing his forehead to yours "Does that answer your question?"

You couldn't hide the way the corners of your mouth twitched in a small smile as you nudged his nose against yours.

You moved from his lap, throwing yourself to the other side of the couch and lying on your back. He watched you amused at the sudden movement.

"C'here" You requested quietly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued by your request. He obeyed, moving on the couch before crawling toward you, stopping when he could hover above you. One of his legs found its spot between your legs and your hands moved over his biceps.

You leaned up, desperate for him. He met you halfway, tongues tangling together almost immediately. His hand held your face before dragging down to your bra, where it stopped momentarily on the scar again, before massaging your breast, squeezing it gently.

You shifted underneath him so you could reach for his button and zipper again but he stopped you, grabbing your hand, "Are you sure?"

You nodded, biting your lip at the sight of him above you.

"Use your words" He instructed, "I need to know"

"Jesse" You groaned, throwing your head back against the cushion, "I've been sure for a long time"

He smiled at that, leaning down and kissing you before sitting up on the couch, hands finding your zipper and tugging your jeans down your legs.

You sat up, eager to take his pants off for him, unzipping them and pulling them down his thighs. His bulge was prominent and when no longer restricted it sprung under his boxers.

You reached around your back, contorting slightly to un-zap the clasp of your bra before tossing it.

You threw yourself back down, eager to have him back on-top of you. Luckily he didn't want to waste time either because you were barely able to shimmy off your underwear before he was coming back above you.

His mouth came to your neck, nipping at the skin there as he moved down. His lips found your scar and he took his time pressing gentle kisses along the length of it. That gesture alone could have made you ascend from your body. Just the idea of him taking care of you, the feeling of respect that you had been denied the last time a man was on top of you. He moved further down to your breasts, sucking at your nipples.

At some point he had moved his hand down between your thighs and when his calloused fingers grazed your folds you nearly fell apart. You held your breath as his fingers found your clit and his mouth came back to you, kissing you sloppy.

"Jesse" You moaned, feeling him against your thigh, "Please"

"Listen" He whispered in your ear, fingers halting on the sensitive spot between your legs, "You say the word and I'll stop —I won't ask any questions"

Yep. That was the hottest thing you'd heard.

"I know" You breathed, unable to hide how desperate you were, "I trust you"

That was all the reassurance he needed as he lined himself up with your entrance. As he pushed into you he caught your lips, kissing you hard.

You gasped into his mouth at the sudden sensation as he gave you moment to adjust to his size before rolling his hips into you.

He developed a rhythm as you moved your hands from his neck, spreading them across the plane of his back and dragging your nails against his skin. He moaned, making you feel weak, "You okay?"

You couldn't speak, not when you were this close, so instead you hummed, nodding and gripping him harder. He picked up his speed, using the back of the couch as a brace as he moved in and out of you, faster and faster. He was biting into your shoulder, trying to control himself.

"I'm close–" You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. “Jess—“

"I know, babygirl," His voice alone nearly pushed you over the edge. You felt him lift one of your thighs, the position unlocking a whole new pleasure as you reached the edge clutching onto his arm and biting slightly to muffle your screams.

The sight of you desperately clinging onto him and riding the wave of your orgasm is what sent him over the edge as he pulled out of you turning to the side and releasing his seed on one of the blankets in the ground. Neither of you had anything close to birth control or condoms, so the pull out method was the only option.

When he came back to you, he laid his head on your chest, his hand finding yours on your stomach. The two of you lie there, breathing rapidly with sheen of sweat across your foreheads.

"You're shaking again" He whispered, reaching for a different blanket from earlier. "Are you cold?"

"N-not cold" You muttered, moving to face him, brushing the hair that stuck to his forehead back, "Just happy"

"You're sure?" He asked, still pulling the blanket up and over the both of your bodies.

You nodded, feeling content and nuzzling into his side, "Was that uh–good for you?"

Jesse nodded, his breath coming in ragged breaths as he laughed against your skin. "Are you kiddin'," He lifted his head and kissed you again, feeling dazed. "I've never been so thankful for snow storm"

You smiled against him, feeling pure bliss. You sat up slightly, trying to untangle the mess of limbs under the blanket before cuddling into his side, your leg thrown over his legs.

"Are your feet always this cold?" He muttered against your hair, fingers tracing your naked arm, leaving goosebumps.

"You'll get used to it" You teased tracing his chest, eyes flickering closed to the sound of his heartbeat, not even a small part of you worried that you insinuated this happening again.

You wanted it to. You wanted him like this, forever. 

"We'll see about that" He quipped, using both his arms around you to keep you tight against him as your breath began to even out, "Just wait til I get you those new boots, you'll have the warmest feet in Wyoming"

For the first time in a long time you felt loved. You wouldn't be letting this feeling go anytime soon.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Tired of Waiting

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: little pieces of your life as you fall in love with Anthony

cw: hurt/comfort

very loosely inspired by Love Story by Taylor Swift

Age 7

The first time you met Anthony, you had been playing hide and seek with your siblings. Your brothers had invited him to play and had declared that he be the seeker. Immediately, you had thought he was cute with his disheveled hair and outfit that was covered in dirt for reasons unknown to you.

He got along with your brothers quite nicely, but didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Almost as if he didn’t like you. And Anthony didn’t like you. He thought you were a know-it-all and didn’t like how you told him what to do.

You hid yourself in the tree above you and tried to hold back your giggles as you watched the boy and your brothers look for you, calling out your name as they did so. You let out a laugh that was a bit too loud and all four of them looked up, Anthony’s eyes going wide as he saw how high up you were. He thought it was very irresponsible of your brothers to let a girl such as yourself climb up there. But instead of helping, they all just laughed along with you.

Taking matters into his own hands, Anthony climbed up to help you despite your objection. You didn’t need his help. You got up there so you could certainly get down. And you certainly didn’t need help from a boy. Especially not one who was your not your brother.

“I do not require your help,” you told him, but he just ignored you, climbing the tree quicker than you ever could.

“No one said you didn’t require it, but I am offering.”

“Then I shall stay up here.” You crossed your arms over your chest, planting yourself down on the branch that you had been standing on. Thinking about letting him help you made you feel weak, like you couldn’t do it for yourself and you most certainly could.

You turned to face the setting sun as Anthony continued to climb to you, paying him no mind. You weren’t leaving that tree until he went away. He was not going to make you look like all of the other women. Because that was not what you were. You were just a girl trying to live out her freedom until it was time to discuss marriage.

Everyone stopped when there was a loud crack coming from below you. You sat up and sure enough, the branch was separating from the tree. Anthony finally reached the branch and him grabbing onto it made it completely break off, causing the both of you to fall to the ground in a loud thud.

He landed on top of you and made multiple apologies even though the fall hadn’t been that far, but you had hurt your knee, probably had even broken it. You screamed in response to the pain and your brothers quickly pulled him off of you and your oldest brother, Henry carried you inside to have your scraped knees taken care of. From that moment, you vowed that you would always hate Anthony Bridgerton.

Age 12

You got over your hatred for Anthony pretty quickly and the two of you had been attached at the hip ever since. You’d chase each other through the garden, threatening to kiss the other once you were caught, but that never actually happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. You knew it was wrong for a boy and a girl to kiss if they were not married, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what it would have been like to press a featherlight kiss to Anthony’s lips.

And Anthony felt just the same. He had realized that the feelings he had thought were hatred were actually of love. He had loved you and more than just a friend. He knew that he was young, but he wanted to marry you. So badly that it hurt. He vowed that as soon as the two of you were of age, he’d do it. If he had the guts.

Age 16

As you got older, you and Anthony talked much of traveling the world together. You’d go to Spain and Paris, and Italy and wherever else your hearts desired. You’d both sit in the study of your house and spin your globe for hours, closing your eyes and spinning the thing and deciding you’d had whatever it landed on to your ever-growing itinerary.

Not long after, Anthony told you that he would be traveling with his uncle through Europe. Coincidentally to the exact places you both had discussed going to. You had been a little upset, but ultimately felt elated for him to be able to do something so exciting. He promised that he would write and bring something back, but that didn’t seem like enough. You had spent every single day for the past nine years together and now you were going to be miles apart with only his letters and gifts to keep your company.

The next week, you saw Anthony off, giving him a hug that lasted a little too long for friends and stayed there until his carriage disappeared down the road. You felt tears fall from your eyes but wiped them away until you were alone.

You knew it was only going to be for a few weeks, but without Anthony, a part of you was missing. A piece of your heart had left with him and you were hoping, praying that he’d finally get the hint and come back and ask for your hand like you had been wanting for years. But he didn’t.

Age 20

Those few weeks had turned into months which eventually turned into years. Anthony had been gone for four years and you eventually threw away the letters he was sending you, knowing that everything he had said was a load of shit. He has promised to come back and marry you, but clearly that hadn’t been of importance since he had yet to do just that.

So, with that, you decided that it was finally your season to find a husband to which your mother reluctantly agreed. She had her heart set on you ending up with Anthony, but since he had failed to propose, she decided that it was probably for the best to just get on with it.

As soon as you had been declared ready to wed, suitors lined up at your door with gifts and many compliments which you took with a smile. All of them were gentleman, but none of them seemed right. The onto one you wanted was out of reach.

You found yourself at yet another ball to meet more suitors that you had forced yourself to go despite your want to stay home and read Anthony’s letters over and over again. You had been dancing with the man your mother had insisted was the right fit for you and no matter how nice he was, you had decided that he was a bore. All he seemed to want to talk about was his family and as nice as it was that he loved them so much, you could only hear about his six siblings for so long.

You looked around the room as he spoke and your eyes locked on a beautiful man by the refreshments table. He has the prettiest brown eyes and hair that was the perfect amount of messy. He was definitely your type and you had been determined to talk to him.

Once the song ended, you excused yourself from Edgar and made a beeline for the man that has caught your interest. His eyes locked on yours and for some reason, they seemed familiar, almost as if you had looked into them before. He gave you a smile and you swore your legs were going to give out at how pretty it was.

“Hello,” you greeted him with a curtsy. “I’m-”

“Lady l/n,” he finished, taking your gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. How could he have possibly known your name? Unless- No, he was in Paris last you had heard.

“Anthony?” You asked and he just smiled. It really was him! In the flesh! How had he come back and not told you? Perhaps the announcement had been in the letters you had failed to open.

“I believe you should address me as Viscount Bridgerton,” he said, his lips right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“That would mean that I respect you and at this moment, I don’t.” You pulled your hand from his and headed out of the ballroom, down to the courtyard.

Anthony took off after you, quickly gaining up on you. What had he done wrong? Once upon a time, you worshipped the ground that he walked on and now you were treating him like he was dog shit you had just stepped in.

He told you he was going to come back and marry you and now that he had, you didn’t want anything to do with him. He knew that he had been gone longer than intended, but he had hoped you still would have been happy to see him. Apparently, he was wrong.

Anthony followed you into the hedge maze that took up most of the courtyard and was having trouble keeping up since you had sped up into a run. What even was the purpose of a hedge maze?

He eventually caught you by the wrist and you tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. You were tired of running, but you were also tired of waiting. If you said the word, you’d be wed to Edgar within a month and Anthony would have been kicking himself because he hadn’t gotten there sooner. It was what he had deserved.

“Stop running,” he commanded through labored breaths and you just shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I will not. I am so upset with you that I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Upset with me?” He still had no idea what he had done.

“Yes!” You looked so upset and exhausted that all Anthony wanted to do was hold you in his arms as a way to comfort you.

“Why?”

“Why? Be serious, Anthony! I have waited years for you and I shall not wait any longer. I am done with you.” That was like a stab to the heart. You should have just killed him. It would have hurt a lot less

“Done?” You couldn’t be done with him. You had spent too much time together for that to be true.

“I am to marry Lord Fletcher.” Fuck, he was too late.

“That man is a bore!” You had no interest in hearing his thoughts. He lost his privilege to tell you what he thought when he left.

“He is no such thing!” He really was, but you weren’t going to give Anthony the satisfaction of being right.

“And may I say old enough to be your father.” He was that too, but you weren’t really going to marry him so it didn’t matter.

“But he will be my husband. A role you could have taken on if you had bothered to show up.” With that, he he let go of your hand and watched you move further into the maze.

“But he doesn’t love you as much as I!” He yelled, loud enough for you to hear. You quickly turned around and marched towards him and grabbed him by his coat before pressing your lips to his. You felt him gasp into your mouth but he quickly melted into you, his lips moving with yours.

“You love me,” you said against his lips.

“More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled away and reached into his pocket for the ring he had bought for you in Paris. He opened the box you gasped at the beautiful ring sitting inside it.

“Anthony, it’s beautiful.”

“And it’s yours.” He removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger, tears welling up in both of your eyes. “It always was.”

“I’m sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No apologies necessary,” he shook his head, pulling you into another deep kiss. “Now, shall we go make the announcement?” He asked, offering you his arm.

“We shall,” you nodded and looped your arm through his, the two of you making your way back into the ballroom to announce your much anticipated engagement.

[aces-and-angels]

artwork by raghad qanou follow: @rhq2744 verified ✔: no. 221 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet

dear moots/lovely lurkers- please read 🖤

raghad has finally reached the very first milestone in her fundraiser! that's right gang, thanks to the continuous support of friends/strangers alike, raghad's family has raised a whopping ✨£5,095✨as promised, here is another beautiful original by miss raghad herself 🖤

for those who haven't gotten a chance to meet her yet, please allow raghad to introduce herself in her own words:

Hello everyone, I am Raghad Qanou, a second-year human medicine student at Al-Azhar University in Gaza, or rather, I was like that, before I lost everything, literally everything... Before the 7th of October, me and my family [8 members] were living in our cute house in the Shujaiya neighborhood in Gaza, after huge suffering to repair it and return to living in it after it was destroyed in the 2014 war on Gaza. My family and I were forced to leave our home and forcibly move under fire 7 times so far! All this to escape death and hold on to the last shred of hope for a decent life! excerpt from raghad's gfm campaign page (read full story here)

i first met raghad sometime in june after she messaged me here on tumblr. one of the first things she shared with me (besides her name lol) was this piece:

title: waiting for a ceasefire "only hope and art keep us alive here in gaza ...." -raghad qanou

since then, we've been able to chat a handful of times-- i told her how much i loved her artwork and she excitedly shared even more of her work with me

raghad is a talented artist- a loving sister- a diligent student- a wonderful daughter- and someone who deserves a chance to live a life worth living. her whole family does

they continue to suffer through horrific living conditions and rely on y'all to help carry their burden. to reveal yourself so vulnerably to the world is far from easy. so often, we are told to grit our teeth and push through whatever ails us in silence. but this is a type of pain that cannot and should not be felt alone. and it will take everyone to band together so we can begin to heal

raghad's campaign still has a long way to go. to help things move along, i am proposing another art reveal ✨

if we can get raghad to £15K- i will unveil another beautiful piece from her collection of artwork!

as of posting, raghad's family has raised £5,095 / £55,000.

for those able, please consider donating by clicking the link below + share this post so others may get the chance to help out too 🖤

tags for reach below cut (note: sorry gang, ik we're not really moots. if you're here- it's cause i pulled people from a post that promoted a gfm in the past. please let me know if you do not wish to be tagged in future posts. no hard feelings, truly 🖤)

@juneybug @kodigobacktosleep @apocalyptic-dancehall @imnotthepersonyouseek @toonirl 

@kingofthebookcase @kazehita @yonch @pinkdreamscape1 

@king-dail @caseys-soup-corner @shoogachi @killy @missusmousse 

@j0ckhead @whoopsiedaisy20 @squidie-tittie @dreamingamongthestars @trexpel 

@mischief16 @foulharbor @draginfyre16 @tangerinesteve @3amsnow 

@fruitpuddle @wallsong @selkiesmile @suzakus-canon-wife @turquoisewavesstitch

@loutrem @thatlethalsoul @visemes @orange-coloredsky @dweamdoodles

@just-a-girl-0001 @samrobotize @aunty-matter @gamelpar 

@roachie-paradise @queruloustea @ehjane @firebird963 @butchdykekondraki 

@dinofur @cthulhu-with-a-fez @purplenickel @ysngie @paper-mario-wiki

[cloverapple]

How To Let Go

First things first; drop the idea that reading this will magically make you shift. If you’re here thinking “Oh, I’ll read this, I’ll let go, and then I’ll shift” stop! right! there! I know you want to shift, I know you want to get your desire, but you are missing the whole point of why you want to let go in the first place!

Second if all; there’s no one way to let go because there’s no one thing you’re letting go of. And that’s where most people trip up. You hear it everywhere:

”Just let go!”

“Release!”

“Detach!”

Like it’s some effortless switch you can flip on command regardless of how your unique mind works 😑

And then when you can’t, you start to feel like a failure, like you cannot accomplish this very basic thing that everyone seems to be doing so effortlessly.

Well my darling, listen to me: this is not your fault. You not being able to let go has nothing to do with how capable you are, how lucky you are, or how “primed” your mind is. None of that.

The mind fixates. That’s what it does. If shifting is a huge desire for you, you don’t just drop it overnight. If your DR is playing on a loop in your head, of course you’re going to latch onto it. If every time you go to bed, you secretly hope to wake up in your DR, your brain is still holding on. And yeah, it sucks. Because suddenly your dedication feels like a burden. You start asking “Why can’t I just let go? What’s wrong with me?”

Been there, felt that.

I’m going to tell you exactly why letting go is something anyone can do, and how you can start immediately—without the mental stress that usually comes with it.

But first, let’s clear something up: Letting go is not a quick fix for shifting. It’s not some miracle pill that guarantees success. For some people, yes, letting go is the missing piece. But for others, the real problem isn’t that they need to let go—it’s that they need trust and patience in themselves. And because they’ve been told that “letting go” is the thing to do, they beat themselves up for not being able to do it. When in reality, they were fine all along.

So first of all, figure out if letting go is what you actually need in your journey. If it's not, and you suddenly remember that you’ve found success while holding on, great! If not, let's move on.

So, what does “letting go” actually mean?

A lot of people hear it and think it means quitting, cutting shifting out of their lives, turning away from their DR, walking away completely. And yeah, that is one way to let go. But it’s not the only way. Let’s break it down the different ways there are to let go:

• Letting go of trying to shift – A.K.A what I talked about in this post. You still think of your DR, you still daydream, maybe you meditate at night with no intention to shift, you go about it like you already have it because you do. Stop it. Stop trying to shift.

• Letting go of expectation – You keep doing your methods, you stick to your routine, but you drop the pressure. No more “when will it happen?” You do it just because you enjoy it. You stop putting a deadline on shifting. You let go of when it will happen and just let it unfold.

• Letting go of your DR – You still shift, but you step back from your DR itself. Maybe you try a different DR for fun, maybe you explore WRs or fun, relaxing realities. You turn your focus elsewhere.

• Letting go of shifting itself – You stay in tune with expanding your awareness, but you do this by focusing on lucid dreaming, astral projection, or any other practice for a while. You take the pressure off shifting entirely by trying something new.

• The ‘fuck this shit’ mentality – You throw your hands up and stop giving a damn. Ironically, this one works better than you’d think.

• Letting go of perfection – You don’t need to do everything perfectly, follow every method flawlessly, or maintain some imagined “high vibrational state” 24/7. Stop striving for an ideal and just exist.

• Letting go of comparison – Stop looking at other people who claim to have shifted and measuring yourself against them. Their journey is not yours, and comparison only fuels frustration. Can you imagine driving your car, on the way to go pick up your brand new sport’s car, but you keep looking out the window because someone in the next lane is already driving a sport’s car?? YOU’RE GOING TO CRASH. EYES ON THE ROAD.

• Letting go of guilt – If you feel bad for not shifting yet, for wanting a break, or for feeling stuck, release that guilt. You don’t owe shifting anything. Shifting is you. You don’t owe yourself anything other than peace, trust and love.

• Letting go of attachment to results – Focus on the process rather than the outcome. Enjoy the journey, the experiences, and the growth that come with it. This is the thing I wish I knew at the very start of my journey, not because it would have made me shift faster, but because in hindsight, there’s so much fun in figuring out what works for you, discovering yourself, and the excitement pre-shifting to your DR.

• Letting go of fear – Fear of failure, fear of missing out, fear of doing something wrong, fear of shifting (which warrants another post in itself). Releasing fear allows for a more open, relaxed mindset.

• Letting go of overthinking and self-doubt – Stop analyzing every little thought, feeling, or experience. Your mind doesn’t need to be in constant problem-solving mode. You already know how to shift. You already have your desire/ your desire will manifest in the 3D. You are a creator. You are the god of your reality. If overthinking and stressing out solved anything, no one in the world would have problems.

• Letting go of rules – There are no strict guidelines for shifting. You don’t have to follow what someone else says. Make your own path.

But how do you actually let go?

When you let go, you do so from one of three places: peace, exhaustion, or indifference. To truly let go, you need to lean into one of these.

1. Peace – If what your mind craves is peace, you let go by accepting that your desires are either already yours or inevitably coming. You trust your ability to create and shift, so you stop chasing and start relaxing. Letting go from this state means stepping back, breathing easy, and knowing there’s nothing more you need to do—just be.

"Oh, easier said than done!" Yeah, that’s why we have the next two.

2. Exhaustion – If you’ve reached the point where you’re just tired, use it. Letting go through exhaustion means recognizing that you physically and mentally can’t keep stressing over this anymore. You’ve burned yourself out, and the only thing left to do is stop. Stop trying so hard, stop overthinking, stop forcing. Let yourself collapse into that exhaustion and let go because you have no energy left to hold on.

3. Indifference – This is the "fuck it" approach. Letting go through indifference means deciding that you simply do not care anymore—about shifting, about waiting, about the whole damn thing. Not in a bitter way, not in a frustrated way, just… whatever. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, you’ll be fine. You’ve got a life to live, and you’re not about to waste it worrying over something that isn’t here yet.

No matter which one you lean into, the result is the same: freedom. You stop gripping so tightly. You stop making shifting feel like a desperate struggle. And in that space—wherever you land—letting go happens naturally.

There’s no right or wrong way to let go

Think of it as a spectrum. You let go at your own pace, in a way that feels right for you. Because here’s the truth—holding onto your DR, staying in the cycle of frustration, it hurts. But it’s also comfortable. It’s familiar. And the mind loves familiarity.

Everyone has something different they need to let go of. For some, it’s their attachment to results. For others, it’s the pressure to be perfect. Maybe it’s the need to control the process or the fear of what happens if they succeed. Letting go isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution/It’s about recognizing what is keeping you stuck and unhappy, and making the conscious choice to release it.

So, instead of forcing yourself to drown in the ocean of your desire, because you thought throwing youself in would force yourself to know how to shift, just grab a floatie. You already know how to swim. You just have to remember, and until you do, relax and let go.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 8

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 7 | Series Masterlist | Part 9

Chapter Summary: You talk with some of Bucky's friends and witness what happens to someone who disrespects you.

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.2k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mention of stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, violence (not against reader), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You didn’t respond to the comment and did your best to ignore the stares from the others. Intrigue filled their eyes and you suddenly felt as if they placed you under a microscope. Being the center of Bucky’s attention was smothering, but the weight of their gazes settled so hard in your chest that you worried you wouldn’t breathe properly again.

You looked around in the hopes it would distract you. A nice office, just as you expected. A high ceiling like his penthouse, but with carpet instead of a marble floor. The dark, expensive desk and furniture added to the vibe, powerful and ominous. A bookshelf along one wall lined with books reminded you that Bucky really liked to read. You also wondered who painted the lone piece of art that hung above his desk. A black dahlia, symbolic of sadness or betrayal.

Why that flower?

The wall to your left pushed that thought away. Monitors took up the top half and displayed various parts of the club. You weren’t sure why it took you by surprise, especially since he mentioned seeing you in the VIP section. The man was a control freak. At the same time, the club belonged to him and he certainly wouldn’t be the first business owner to have eyes and ears everywhere around his place.

“Quick introduction before we get into specifics,” Bucky said, nodding around the room. “Thor Odinson, Nick Fowler, Sam Wilson, and Steve Rogers.”

A large blonde with long hair clapped his hands together. “Finally! The future Queen of The 107th! And a beautiful one at that. It’s a pleasure.” Your eyes widened as he stood, his stature as booming as his voice before he bowed. He actually bowed to you. “Are the rest of you not standing? Fowler, Wilson, on your feet with Rogers. This is not just a woman, this is Barnes’s woman. Show her some respect.”

“I swear, you aren’t from this world,” a brunette in a sharp black suit mumbled, but got to his feet along with the others. The unexpected gesture stunned you into silence. “We were starting to wonder if you stood us up.”

“Took a bit of convincing to get her here, Nick,” Bucky explained, making you bite your tongue when he kissed your temple. “She wanted a quiet night.”

The handsome man had a menacing glint in his brilliant blue eyes. “And how exactly did you convince her?”

“You know, you can all sit back down,” you cut in. “There’s no reason to stand just because I’m here,” you added, though you appreciated Thor’s genuine enthusiasm. It was kind of endearing.

“Nonsense. You’re all he speaks of, so you are a Queen in our eyes,” Thor said.

“Future Queen does have a nice ring to it. Maybe I can buy you a tiara,” Bucky smiled. The men chuckled in unison, with the exception of Ray.

Hyenas.

Whatever expression you had on your face made Bucky frown. “Are you okay?”

You wanted to scream how you weren’t okay at all and how terrifying the entire situation was, but Bucky took your hand before you could answer and kissed your fingers. It somehow soothed a bit of the nerves, which wasn’t fair since he was the one who tangled you in this web in the first place. “Just not used to so much attention,” you admitted.

“Let’s sit,” Bucky suggested, leading you to the remaining empty sofa. Instead of giving you space, he kept you at his side once you both sat. Was it a display of ownership in front of everyone or did he just want you right beside him? “Ray, bring her some water.”

Your heart thumped against your ribcage and the gentleness of Bucky’s hand on your cheek startled you. It was different on the club floor. Even with his men teasing you, there were tons of others around. Here in the office, the spotlight was solely on you. All because Bucky wanted you. Otherwise, you’d be invisible.

“I’ll have you home soon,” Bucky whispered, grounding you with the reminder that you didn't have to stay all night. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Told you it was too soon to bring her here,” the dark-eyed gentleman beside Thor spoke, a mildly sympathetic look on his face. “But, no, you never listen to me.”

“And I told you where to shove your opinion, Sam,” Bucky snapped, thanking Ray in a softer tone when he placed a bottle in your hand. At least you knew it wasn’t drugged or tampered with since you had to open it yourself.

“So, Barnes tells us you work with flowers?” Thor questioned.

You nodded, not sure if it should bother you that he spoke about your job or impressed that his friends took the time to remember. “Yeah, I’m a florist. I enjoy it.”

“That is a lovely profession. He also mentioned you occasionally bring flowers to the local hospital at no charge,” Thor continued before the others gave him a look you couldn't decipher. “We do not see a lot of kindness like that around here.”

“Yeah, I sometimes…” you trailed off when you noticed Bucky’s jaw clench. It wasn’t something the two of you talked about during your date, but he clearly knew. You’d have to revisit this conversation later. “Bucky, why don't you tell me about your friends?” You suggested. Anything to take the focus off you.

Bucky blinked and gave you a smile after a moment. “Sure. Years ago, Steve decided to drag me to a veteran support meeting after we served, which is how I met Thor and Sam. They invest in real estate,” he explained. “Sam focuses more on the commercial end and Thor on homes.”

The military background didn't surprise you. Brotherhood. Loyalty. Respect. There was an unmistakable bond there.

“Wilson and I were just discussing our newest acquisitions before you walked in,” Thor said, tilting his glass toward you. “Barnes didn't tell us you lived in such a nice area.”

Your stomach tightened with nerves. “Excuse me?”

Sam looked like he was considering his words when Thor’s gaze flickered to him. “Bucky may have mentioned a property or two in that neighborhood that might be a good investment. He’s right.”

Your gaze jerked to the man holding you. His lips curled, knowing and unashamed. His promise to have you out of your home… “Is my apartment building one of those properties?”

Bucky shrugged. “It might be.”

Your heart gave a hard thud. If he was serious… If his friend bought the building… No, he couldn’t do that to you.

“Nick deals with investments, too, but he focuses more on businesses over real estate. We actually introduced him to Bucky,” Sam said, effortlessly shifting the conservation back to the group. He seemed nice, but how nice could he be if he was Bucky’s friend?

“It really is nice to see the future wife in person.” Nick gave you a quick once over, but there was no judgment, unlike that jerk at the bar. “I can see exactly why he broke into your place just to talk to you.”

Bucky rubbed your back when you coughed. Nick was almost as nonchalant about the situation as Bucky was. “So, everyone really is aware that he’s a stalker,” you said.

“He prefers to think of himself as passionate or intense.”

“Pay no attention to him,” Bucky advised.

Nick simply smirked. “I was giving her a compliment.”

“Jax and Hal have already hit on her and I don't need you bothering her, too.”

“I’m not bothering her. Maybe you're the one bothering her.”

“Please, you don't have to talk about me like I'm not here,” you interrupted. Wanting to be invisible was one thing, but you wouldn't be treated as such.

You shut your mouth when everyone looked your way, but relaxed when all the men laughed again. “I like you,” Nick said. That brought a small smile to your face. It wasn't like you wanted the people in Bucky's life to like you, but it was nice to see that others weren’t phased by his power.

Bucky shot him a look for a split second before the latter put his hands up. “I don’t like her that way. We all know she's your girl,” he promised before looking at you again. “But I do like your spirit. It's good for him.”

Bucky shifted his gaze back to you adoringly as you shrank back into the sofa. “Thanks,” you whispered.

“And since you’re here, I wanted to ask what you think I should get Brady and Addison for their upcoming wedding,” Nick smirked again, but it was much softer this time. “I asked Bucky, but he thought I should ask you since you're so close to them.”

A chill ran over you. How did… “Nick,” you whispered, recalling your earlier conversation with Addison. “You’re Brady’s new boss, aren't you?”

“Smart girl.” he smiled, impressed. “I’m a boss of sorts. He’s a hard worker. Loves his fiancé. I hope they're enjoying their dinner.”

“Check their registry. Everything they want is there,” you said as evenly as you could manage, wishing you had the strength to bolt from the room.

You swallowed back the urge to get sick as Bucky rubbed your side. This wasn't just meeting his friends. This was a not-so-subtle way to tell you that you weren't getting away from him. And how could you? There was a chance that Sam bought your building. Nick had a way to get to people you cared about. And Steve showed up at your job, one of your only safe-havens. What was next?

It would've been easy to feel hollow to it all as Bucky wove himself into your life. Was it just control he sought? Or did he want to be in as much of life as possible so you couldn't forget him if you tried? No matter where you went, where you looked, who you saw, it would now trace back to him. Like he wanted everything to begin and end with him.

You looked toward Ray, but he looked at the floor. Sighing, you shook her head. You were all alone. “So, Bucky knows how to get into my home and pretty much knows everywhere I go. Sam or Thor might be buying the building I live in. Nick is working with someone close to me. And Steve… clearly knows where I work. Am I missing anything? Is this totally normal behavior for all of you?”

You could still see the intrigue in their eyes at your clipped tone. “You seem unhappy by that, but it is a dangerous world out there and you are a guarded treasure who needs to be looked after,” Thor spoke, looking to the others for support. “All of our women are.”

Nick nodded after a moment. “Varying degrees with our approaches, but yes. It’s dangerous out there.”

You huffed. Did they think they were the good guys? Were their significant others like you? Trapped? “It’s dangerous here, too.”

“You’re not in any danger with us.” Bucky turned your head toward him. “But Thor's right. You are my treasure, Kotyonok. I found you and I’m not letting you go.”

A possession. Something to covet. “You could’ve just left me buried in the sand or at the bottom of the ocean,” you whispered, ignoring the hurt in his eyes. “I didn’t ask for you to dig me up.”

“This is all overwhelming. I know it is,” Bucky whispered back, like the others weren’t listening. “If you’re upset that Steve went into your shop or for anything else, you can blame me.”

Of course that was the thing he commented on. “Oh, don’t worry. I do blame you.”

The men laughed again as he ran a finger along your neck. “Another thing I’ll make up to you.”

You huffed again. “And how will you do that? Jerk off while I’m on the phone with you? Because you already did that earlier.”

Bucky smirked at your sass when Sam coughed and said, “Steve, you’re being awfully quiet over there.” You almost forgot he was there since he hadn't said much else since you walked in.

“Who cares about Steve?” Nick grinned as he sipped his drink. “Let’s hear more about that phone call.”

“Just observing, Sam.” Steve cut in and crossed his arms as his gaze swept over the group. “And don’t be rude, Nick.”

“Is it rude if I also want to hear about the phone call?” Thor asked.

Heat flowed to your cheeks and you wished you just kept your mouth shut. “Please, forget I said that,” you begged. Because now that you mentioned it, it would play on a loop again in your mind.

Bucky said low enough for only you to hear, “Next time I get off, I want you right there with me.” The heat in your veins turned to molten lava. “But since you want to change the subject, Steve has been my best friend since we were kids and now he helps out around the club and with other endeavors,” he introduced, a hint of pride and fondness that wasn't fully extended to the other men. “I think you two are going to get along very well.”

“I think so, too.” Steve smiled and you did your best to return it, but it fell flat as you remembered the flowers at Bucky's penthouse. “Thank you for making my best friend happy. That’s all I want for him.”

“Thanks,” you said. That was all you wanted for your best friend, so you understood to an extent. “Did your girl enjoy the tulips or did you make that whole thing up?”

You weren't exactly sure what Bucky told him to do when he went into the shop, or what he told any of the men to do for that matter. Spying, keeping tabs, it was just a reminder of the eyes and ears your pseudo-boyfriend had around the city. Your brain begged you to get out of there, but you couldn't move.

“She really does love tulips and was very happy with them,” he assured you. “So I should thank you again for making her happy, too.”

You shouldn't dig the knife in after he complimented you, but you couldn't help yourself. “And are you like Bucky and stalking her, too?”

A hint of pink showed in the blonde’s cheeks when Bucky and Nick chuckled, but he gave you a lopsided grin and didn't seem at all offended. “I've actually done a little bit more than that,” he said, your heart dropping as he looked at Bucky. What did he mean? “Did you get a chance to introduce her?”

Bucky shook his head as Steve’s face fell. “Didn't stop at coat check,” he answered before he added, “His girl works here part-time, but I thought it would be better for you two to officially meet when we go on a double date.”

“A double date?” You asked.

“Yeah, the four of us. Steve and I already have a few ideas on where to go.” Another thing that wasn’t a suggestion. Wouldn’t be a choice. Did Steve’s poor girl have any idea?

“What does coat check girl’s boyfriend think about the double dates?” Nick said, typing out something on his phone.

Steve's smile slipped. “Soon-to-be ex and she has a name.”

“That's right, I forgot. You're going to ‘handle him’,” he said, your body tensing at the implication.

“I'm sorry. Didn't you break your future brother-in-law's arm?”

“I almost broke both arms,” he shrugged when you gawked at him. “My girl’s a best-selling author, but her brother is a piece of shit.”

Thor downed the rest of his drink. “That reminds me of the time I broke my father-in-law's fingers. My brother advised against it, but…”

The voices blended together as you took a sip of the water. You weren't a violent person, didn’t speak casually of violence the way they did, but the urge to hit or throw something became stronger with each passing second. All things considered, you were extremely patient with everything. How much more could you take?

“I want to go home, please,” you told Bucky. You had to get out of there. “I mean it. I met your friends and-”

The room went silent as someone knocked on the door. No one made a move, except for Ray and Steve who both reached for something in their jackets. “Expecting someone, boss?” Ray asked.

“Actually, I am.” Bucky checked his watch. “Should be Ari and a guest.”

“What guest? Not Ransom,” Steve said, his body still tense.

“And not Andy or Scott. They’re out of town,” Nick added.

Bucky’s wolfish smile was back on his face. “You’ll see.”

The doors opened and in walked the man who insulted you at the bar, looking around like he owned the place. Ari followed with a glare that had you shrinking into the sofa again. The night was just getting better and better, wasn't it?

“John?” Sam didn't look impressed. “Really?”

Bucky stood up to shake the man’s hand and you suddenly missed his warmth. “John. Enjoying your evening?”

“Yeah. That shirtless bartender gave me drinks on the house.”

“I’m glad Hal took care of you.” You could smell the liquor coming from him the further he stepped into the room. “And I think you know just about everyone here.”

While the men had smiled and welcomed you, none of them extended the same courtesy to John. Steve and Sam looked like they wanted to punch him. Nick didn't even glance up from his phone to acknowledge him. Thor simply got himself another drink.

“I do.” John hiccuped. “‘Bout time you invited me up here.”

“Yeah, I guess it is about time.” The look on Bucky’s face gave you chills as he grabbed John’s arm and stopped him from sitting down. “Oh, no. You don’t need to sit. You won't be here long.”

“Is that right?”

“That is right.” The grip on John’s arm tightened enough to make him wince. “You see, I told Hal to give you free drinks until Ari came to get you. And the only reason I had you brought up here was so you could officially meet my girl before I have you kicked out.”

“Kick me out?! What the fuck are…” John had a noticeable twinge in his cheek as he spotted you. You wanted to cover yourself up even though you weren’t exposed. “That's your girl?”

“She’s my everything.” Bucky briefly looked away from John to gaze at you. “And from what I understand, you knocked her out of the way at the bar and made a rude comment. I’d like to know exactly what you said to her.”

Nick glanced up from his phone, more interested in the conversation now. All of the men were. That wasn't good. Not at all.

“Look, I may have bumped into her, but I don’t…” John cleared his throat as Bucky stared at him, underlying rage in his eyes. “I don’t recall mouthing off to her or anything.”

“Bucky, it’s fine,” you said. You told him that earlier. What was he doing?

“Kotyonok, do you remember what he said to you since John’s memory is so terrible?” Bucky asked, his gaze still fixed on the man in front of him who was starting to sweat. “It’s okay. You can tell us.”

The others stared at you expectantly. You shifted, not wanting to blurt out exactly what the guy said. Lying wouldn’t make it any better though. Bucky clearly knew what happened.

“See? Nothing happened,” John tried to dismiss you when you stayed silent. “How about a drink?”

Bucky pursed his lips in disdain. “How about I have Ari beat the words out of you instead?”

You gasped when Ari pushed himself off the wall, fear all over John’s face as he advanced. He looked like he was going to piss himself. “He called me an ugly undressed bitch,” you said loud enough to make Ari stop.

Something in the room shifted, the silence extended and uncomfortable as the men rose to their feet one by one. Thor made a show of cracking his knuckles after he winked at you. You had nothing to fear. They didn't want to hurt you. So why were you still trembling?

Steve slipped his jacket off and strode forward until he was beside his best friend. “You said that to her?”

John bravely or stupidly attempted to deflect. “The music is loud and-”

“You better shut your fucking mouth if you even think of calling her a liar. Not that I need anyone else’s word except for hers, but Hal also heard you. Even told you to apologize, which you chose to ignore. I can pull up the camera if you want to see the footage.” Bucky’s even tone had you trembling in your spot just like John. “You really have the nerve to come into my club and speak to my girl like that?”

John scrambled for words as he pointed at you. “I didn't… I mean, look at what she’s wearing! How was I supposed to know?”

“That should've been your first clue that she was special. Everyone else down there has to abide by a dress code, but not her. That’s how much power she has. And you tried to make her feel bad for that?” Bucky held a hand up when Ari stepped forward again. “No. I won't let that stand.”

“Bucky.” John swallowed when the rest of the men shifted to surround him. The only exception was Ray, who stood closest to you. “I…”

“Apologize to her,” he snarled. “Get on your fucking knees and say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” John glanced at the floor. “Don't make me get on my knees.”

“That’s enough! I don't want his apology anyway,” you spoke up. An empty apology from a jackass was meaningless. “I appreciate that you want him to say sorry, but I’d rather he just leave if that's okay. Please.”

Bucky let out a slow breath. “My girl has a kind heart.” He briefly took his eyes off John to offer you a soft smile before turning his attention back to him. “But I don't. You’re banned from my club. And by the end of the day tomorrow, you’ll be banned from just about everywhere in the city.”

John laughed, a broken, nervous sound. “This is a joke, right?”

Bucky cracked his neck. “I’ve never liked you. None of us do. We tolerated you, but I won't tolerate you insulting my girl.” He signaled for Ari to open the doors. “So you have two options. You can leave on your own and be permanently banned from this establishment. Or I can make you leave and you’ll be permanently banned from this establishment. Your choice.”

“You can't ban me for one comment! That's insane!”

“I consider it harassment,” Bucky corrected him. Ironic coming from him since he invaded your life. “I take it I'll have to make you leave?”

“You know what? Fuck you. This club sucks anyway.” John moved toward the door before he stopped to look back at you. “And you think you’re special since you're up here? You’re just an uptight bitch who-”

Bucky’s fist connected with John’s jaw before he could finish his insult and you could only shriek as he hit the wall and crumbled to the floor a heartbeat later. Steve hauled him to his feet by his collar before he could recover and punched him in the stomach hard enough that you flinched. Ray shielded your body as best as he could as everyone took turns punching him.

“Don't look,” he whispered.

“I don't know if I can do this,” you whispered back. You were trying to stay calm, but this…

“Yes, you can. Just breathe. In and out,” Ray urged. His face didn't give much away, but you sensed his relief when you took a few deep breaths. “There you go. And don't look.”

You didn't look. It still didn’t block out the sounds, fists connecting against skin and bones, and John’s pained groans. Nor did it stop you from shaking. It couldn't have lasted more than a minute, but it felt like a lifetime until the room went quiet again. Was it over?

“What did you guys do to him?!” You asked, loosening your hold on Ray’s arm. When did you grab him?

“We taught him a lesson.” Bucky flexed his fingers with a sigh. “I have an abundance of patience for you, it's less so with people who are disrespectful and vulgar with you.”

Ray still shielded you when you tried to look where John lay in a heap, but was careful not to touch you. “...Is he breathing?”

“He is and he's lucky for that,” Bucky replied, nudging him with his foot. “Looking strong, John.”

“About time we shut him up,” Nick said, plopping back down in his seat. “Should've banned him months ago.”

“No one deserves a beating more than John,” Steve said, gazing at you like a big brother who just beat up a schoolyard bully for picking on you. “And don't worry. He won’t speak to you like that again.”

“He won’t be speaking much at all after that,” Sam said, taking a drink from Thor’s outstretched hand. “No big loss there.”

“Ari, would you mind taking out the trash?” Bucky asked, tilting his head as he looked down at John. “And can you get the cleaners up here to do something about the blood on my carpet?”

“On it.” Ari effortlessly picked John up and put him over his shoulder as you tried to process what you witnessed. You were past processing any of it, your brain nearly broken from the stress.

In fact, the only one phased by the violence was you as everyone went about their business again. It made your head spin. That was all from a guy insulting you. What would they do if someone actually tried to do anything to you?

Ray stepped aside when Bucky made his way back to you, the anger gone from his eyes. “You’re shaking,” he whispered, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I'm sorry if that scared you.”

“Of course, it scared me! You all beat the hell out of him,” you scolded. On instinct, you grabbed his hand to check it. You had no idea why you wanted to make sure his hand was okay after everything. “None of you had to do that.”

“We don't like bullies,” Steve said as Bucky let you inspect his hand, your fingers gently brushing over his knuckles. “It was bad enough what he said, but he knocked you out the way, too, and didn't apologize. He deserved it.”

“Yeah, he did,” Bucky agreed, taking the opportunity to grip your hand before you could let him go.

“That was a bit much,” you said. It was overkill in your eyes. “I'm not worth beating someone up over.”

He met your gaze with a smile. “You’re worth more than I can ever give you. And he won't be bothering anyone in this club ever again.”

“You're really going to ban him?”

“Absolutely. I have a reputation to uphold. He's only going to mess that up if I let him stick around.”

“Ari isn't going to…” You weren’t sure what he would do to John since they were out of sight.

“You don’t need to worry about a thing.” Bucky moved his hand to your cheek. “I only wish I could hit him again for how he spoke about you.”

You rolled your lips between your teeth. Defending you that way was a lot, but a morbid part of you liked that he stood up for you. “Thank you, but no more hitting people in my name. I can't stand it if someone else was hurt because of me.”

“His actions got him hurt because he hurt you first. I know he did. And I said I’d step in if someone hurt or upset you.” His gaze dropped to your mouth when you bit your lip again. The insult did bother you, but it didn’t matter now. “You really do have a kind heart and you’re making it very difficult not to kiss you right now,” he added, brushing his thumb over your lips.

Goosebumps rolled over your skin at the touch, but you stepped back before he could push his thumb into your mouth. He was still dangerous. Still taking over your life. That was enough to wake you from any spell he tried to put you under. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Just returning the favor.” He held up his hand again with a small smile. “You sure you don’t want to give it another look? A little kiss might make it feel better.”

You rolled your eyes. The man was utterly ridiculous. “I’m not kissing your hand, Bucky. We both know it’s fine.”

“One little kiss? Please?” He winced for show as he flexed his fingers again, but you wouldn't budge. “C’mon. You were worried about my hand enough to check it for damage.”

You shook your head. “I wasn't worried. I just wanted to make sure you didn't injure yourself because that would just be one more thing you’d hold over my head,” you deflected, glancing around to find everyone staring at you again with smiles on their faces at the exchange. “Thanks for defending me.”

“Nothing to thank us for,” Thor held his glass up to you.

Steve looked at the monitor that displayed the coat room. “We take care of our own.”

An alarm on Bucky’s phone went off before you could say anything else. “And look at that? It’s time to go.” The men groaned before he shut the alarm off. “I promised I’d have her home and I’m keeping that promise.”

Steve looked the most disappointed of all. “I barely got to talk to her,” he grumbled.

“Next time, okay? And the double date soon.” Bucky smiled at his friend.

“It was wonderful to meet you,” Thor said as Nick and Sam nodded in your direction. “And I hope to see you at my party next week. Everyone will be there.”

“Maybe,” you said, putting as much emphasis on the word as possible. How would you get out of that? And the double date?

“Okay, you’re all welcome to hang out, but we’re leaving,” Bucky said.

“Maybe I should find my own way home,” you said. Bucky didn’t just have his claws in you, his friends did, too. You needed a breather. Some wine. “I really don't mind getting a cab.”

“Not happening,” he whispered. It was worth a shot. “I need to make sure you get in bed safely.”

“In bed?” You repeated, almost laughing until you saw his serious expression. “You seriously don't expect me to invite you in, do you?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, steering you toward the door as Ray followed. “Besides, who else is going to tuck you in?”

Was tucking you in going to be enough to satisfy him tonight or would he take it further?

You’d find out soon enough.

Now we know what happened to John! What do we think of his friends? Will Bucky be good when he takes you home? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 8

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: lando makes an appearance in this one. abusive language used, including sexist name calling. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 3.9k words a note: here it is babies!!! the last one in this series. i know it's been different from what i usually write, but this has been so much fun. extra special thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl as usual for beta reading and holding my hand at 2am when i wake up struck by an idea hahaha <3

Aftermath - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Aftermath - Chapter 5 Aftermath - Chapter 6Aftermath - Chapter 7 Master List

madmaxx1 posted

52 likes liked by ferrarisprince16, babyleclercpriv, jadebby, and others madmaxx1 pretty pretty girl ferrarisprince16 hey! so this is insane! >>>artiebartie yeah! stop thirsting over our sister >>>madmaxx1 never babyleclercpriv <3 jadebby god you two are so cute it's gross

missleclerc posted

missleclerc surprise! some new pieces are debuting at @/nessasgallery TONIGHT. I'll be there to discuss this new direction my art is going in along with what (and who) inspired me to try such a drastic new approach to painting. I hope you'll drop by and take a look, it would be lovely to see you! maxverstappen1 does this make me your muse??? >>>charlesleclerc hey! my car is up there right next to you! that means I'm a muse too! >>>missleclerc you two are ridiculous >>>user0298 uhhhhhhhh... user1029 ferrari and red bull without a mclaren in sight. iiiiiiinteresting >>>user1100 i think this is all the breakup confirmation we need user455 oh shes in LOVE LOVE with max >>>user444 oh this is so messy. i love it. give me 12 more seasons right now.

“If we don’t leave in the next ten minutes, we’re going to be late for your own event, pretty girl.” Max tuts at you from the doorway of your bedroom but there’s no bite behind his words. 

You glance up at him from your vanity where you’re sitting doing the last bits of your makeup. He looks heartbreakingly handsome in crisp white button-down underneath a tailored navy blue sport coat and matching slacks. His hair is combed neatly to the side, gelled into submission in a way that makes you want to rake your fingers through it just to muss it up. 

“I’m nearly ready, mister bossy pants.” You shoot back before switching off the light on the vanity and standing up. 

Max rolls his eyes but takes advantage of you walking towards him, smile on your face, and blatantly ogles you. The way the navy blue lacy dress hugs every dip and curve of your frame has Max checking his watch, wondering just how late you two could be without raising suspicion. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” You giggle, wrapping your arms around Max’s waist before pitching up onto your toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You were just scolding me that we can’t be late and then you come in here looking at me like that.” 

“It’s not my fault you look like a goddamn masterpiece in that dress.” He murmurs against your neck as he drags hot, open mouthed kisses down towards your collar bone. 

The way Max talks to you now, the reverent way he looks at you like you’re a piece of art in the most normal of situations, the way he always has to be touching you even with just the tips of his fingers, it’s everything you’ve ever craved from a relationship and everything you thought you didn’t deserve. 

Two weeks have passed since that night in your studio and while Max had to be gone for half of it for a race, one that you had solidly refused to attend until the dust between you and Lando settles a little more, it’s almost as if you two have been together for years now. The way you’ve slotted yourself into his life and Max into yours is so settling, so calming that you’ve caught yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’ve caught yourself waiting for him to behave like Lando, to push you away or do something that proves that Lando was right all along. 

Max knows you’ve been waiting for it so he’s made an extra effort to prove to you that it’s never going to happen. He knows you’re still healing, still recovering from what the British driver did to you so he hasn’t pushed. He hasn’t pushed to label whatever it is you two are to each other. It doesn’t matter to either of you because if you’re both in Monaco, you’re together. Max comes down to your apartment to watch while you cook dinner or you go up to his to cuddle on the couch and spend the night. It’s been a blissfully quiet time but you can both feel that private time coming to an end. 

The comments on your post from earlier had been mostly positive but it was pretty apparent fans had put two and two together. People knew you and Max were…something. They had figured out that a breakup had taken place even if nothing had officially been announced. You knew that once you arrived to the gallery tonight, hand in hand with Max, that was all it was going to take to confirm to the public that you and Lando were over and you had moved on. 

The thought of what Lando might do after he sees the coverage of tonight, and you know there will be coverage, has anxiety sitting heavy on your shoulders. Max clocks it instantly, shaking his head. He reads you so easily now, he always has but since that night in your studio, he’s been even more in tune with you and your moods. 

“Don’t go there. It’s going to be fine. Everyone who loves you, who matters, is going to be there and we won’t let anything or anyone ruin tonight, okay?” 

You nod, attempting to tamp down the anxiety that blooms hotly in your chest. You hated how much control Lando still had over you sometimes but you were getting better, bit by bit. “Thank you.” You whisper, nuzzling into the crook of Max’s neck while inhaling the scent of his cologne. 

“I have something for you.” Max murmurs into your hair in an obvious attempt to distract you. 

You pull back, eyes sparkling up at him. “You do?” 

Distraction successful. 

Max reaches into the back pocket of his slacks and pulls out a rectangular velvet box. You blink up at him in confusion. “Max…” 

“It’s just something small to show you how proud I am of you, how wildly in love I am with you.” He says, the words skittering up your spine before settling deep in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never been loved in the way Max loves you and it’s always seemingly knocking you off your center. “Go on, open it.” He whispers, watching as you turn the velvet box over in your hands. 

The hinges on the box whisper open and you’re momentarily speechless when you see what is nestled in the black satin. A diamond tennis necklace winks up at you with dozens of brilliant cut diamonds set in what looks to be platinum, stealing the very breath from your lungs. The stone that sits nestled in the center though is what renders you completely speechless. A large emerald cut brilliant blue sapphire stone sits in the middle of the necklace, the color a perfect match to the navy blue of Max’s Formula 1 car. 

“Max.” You whisper, unable to find any other words beyond his name. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, eyes searching yours earnestly, looking for approval in your face. 

“It’s…” The words to describe the beauty of the piece sitting heavy in your hands escapes you. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, a small, involuntary gasp escaping your lips. The diamonds, so bright they seem to shimmer with the captured light, blur and swim together as tears prick at your eyes. “Max,” You manage again, your voice thick with emotion that you struggle to get a handle on. “It’s breathtaking.” 

He reaches for the necklace, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a surge of pleasure down your spine. His touch, simple as it is, is familiar but charged with a new intensity. He lifts the delicate chain, the cool metal a stark contrast against the warmth of his skin, and fastens it around your neck after you spin for him while lifting your hair out of the way. The weight of the piece settles against your skin, a physical reminder of his affection, his love for you. Love. The word echoes int he quiet space of your mind, a sound so heavy but exhilarating that it has fresh tears threatening to spill over. 

“Turn around.” He murmurs, voice husky. Max takes a step back, eyes raking over you, a slow appreciative burn in their blue depths. 

You obey, your movements a little stiff and unsure. As you turn, the sapphire catches the light, flashing a vibrant, rich blue against the pale glow of your skin. You spot your reflection in the mirror across the room just as you turn back to face Max and your breath catches again. The necklace transforms your outfit into something extraordinary. It’s not just beautiful, it’s…meaningful. It’s a symbol of his belief in you, his pride in being with you, his acceptance of you, flaws and all.

 It’s a promise, whispered against your skin. 

“It’s too much.” You whisper, the words barely audible. The sheer extravagance of the gift, the depth of the emotion behind it, is almost too overwhelming. 

Max steps closer, his hands slipping around your waist as he pulls you against his body. “It’s not too much.” He says, his voice gentle but firm. “You deserve the world, everything beautiful and bright and good. And this?” He gestures to the necklace clasped around your neck, the sapphire resting in the hollow of your throat, “This is just a small token of my love.” 

“Thank you.” You whisper, the words wholly inadequate and insufficient to describe the way your stomach is swirling with emotion but it’s all you can manage in the face of such overwhelming emotion. You reach up, your fingers tracing the cool surface of the center stone. It feels like a piece of him, a tangible representation of the connection you both share. And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet him of unspoken emotion, you know that whatever happens tonight, whatever Lando might do to ruin the night or in the future, you’re not alone. You have Max. And that, you realize, is more precious than any piece of jewelry that Max could ever give you. 

f1.gossip.news posted

f1.gossip.news in a move that shocked...absolutely no one, charles leclerc's little sister stepped out hand in hand with new flame max verstappen tonight. while her and lando never officially announced their split, we've all seen the writing on the wall. her insta post announcing her new artwork debuting tonight featuring the red bull driver was all the confirmation we needed that her and the mclaren driver are dunzoooo. what do we think, chat??? user7575 she is GLOWING! good for her. >>>user0209 seriously, i haven't seen her or max look this happy in ages. user3221 i can hear the dishes breaking in lando's apartment from here in london >>>user0202 seriously. imagine losing the championship last year AND THEN YOUR GIRL to max verstappen. WHEEEEW BOY. user1992 this is so messy. i love it.

The light from the gallery spills out onto the sidewalk, casting a golden glow out into the street that guides you and Max towards it’s doors. It doesn’t escape your notice that the last time you walked down this sidewalk at night towards Nessa’s gallery for a show of yours, you were alone and desperately sad. 

Tonight though? Tonight is completely different. Your arm is tucked securely in Max’s elbow as he walks with towards the gallery with you after dropping the car off with the valet. The necklace he’d given you that night sits securely around your throat, an outwardly sign of the budding relationship between you two. As you approach the gallery, you see your brothers waiting for you but this time, all of their significant others are also waiting for you as well. 

Charles is the first one to intercept you, catching you up in a tight hug before whispering how lovely you look tonight in your ear. You’re passed first to Arthur and finally to Lorenzo, who makes a joke about the rock around your neck. Through it all, Max sits back quietly, watching you glow under the attention of your brothers. Jade, Alexandra, and Charlotte all make a fuss over your outfit and paw at the necklace, swooning over how it practically sparkles under the gallery lights. 

When you finally make it into the gallery, there are dozens of people already there. Nessa sees you walk through the door first and pounces on you instantly. 

“My darling!” She coos, wrapping you up in her arms and squeezing you tightly. “You are shimmering with happiness.” She comments, eyes darting to where Max stands behind you, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he talks with Charles and Arthur. “And I suppose we have that man to thank for that.” 

“Partly.” You agree, but you know it’s more than that. You feel as though you’ve been given a second chance tonight. You were so close to losing everything, to succumbing to everything that Lando had put you through over the last three years that this first night out feels like your first taste of what life should feel like. You knew you had Max to thank for a lot of that, but it also wasn’t lost on you how much you had also fought to be there for yourself. “I’ve done a lot of work on myself the last few months too.” 

Nessa nods, running a protective hand up and down your bare arms. “I know, your art has changed! It feels lighter but also there’s so much more depth to it. I’ve had several inquiries about the one of your man after Brazil.” She says, eyes alright with dollar signs. 

“Unfortunately, that one is already sold.” Max cuts in, slipping his arm around your waist before handing you a glass of red wine. 

You startle, not realizing that you had already sold a piece so early on in the night. “It is?” 

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. “I came in yesterday afternoon while you were taking a nap and bought it.” 

Your head snaps to Nessa, looking for confirmation. “Paid twice my asking price.” She murmurs, smirk playing at her ruby red lips. Traditionally, she never sold a piece before it was debuted but Max had been persuasive and insisted on locking down the piece without you knowing before hand. 

“Max!” You hiss, bumping a shoulder into his. “I would have just given it to you if you’d asked! I was planning on doing that anyway!” 

Max shrugs, small smile on his face. “I wanted to make sure no one beat me to it. And of course I paid for it! Allow my girl to give her work away for free? Just because I’m the muse doesn’t mean I get special treatment.” 

You’re fairly certain you blush deeper a deep red than the scarlet of your brother’s Ferrari at the praise Max heaps on you. Nessa hides a knowing grin behind her own wine glass before excusing herself to go talk to a client that had just walked in. 

Max and you are left alone in the center of the room and for a moment, the silence that settles over you two is a comforting blanket. It’s not hurried or anxious, the energy between you tonight. It’s a calm, steady thrum of energy that passes easily from Max to you without having to do much more than exchange a glance or quick brush of fingertip against bare skin. You watch your family swirl around the room, each gently checking in on you in their own time as they mingle and you feel yourself relax into the vibe of the evening. 

You’re two glasses in and having a hushed conversation with Jade as Max stands beside you, backs to the door, when a sudden tension snaps through the gallery. On the opposite side of the room, the door at the front of the gallery snaps just a touch too loudly, pulling your attention in that direction. 

The figure that stands just inside the gallery sends your stomach dropping through your toes. 

“Shit.” Beside you, Max’s hand finds yours and he instinctively shifts to put himself between the rest of the gallery and yourself. 

You knew this was going to happen. You had felt it in your bones tonight as you had gotten ready. You knew that Lando would never let you have this. Knew deep down that he’d never let you fully get away from him without having the last word. If there was one thing that Lando couldn’t stand, it was being made a fool of. And you knew that showing up here tonight on Max’s arm, wearing Max’s jewels would set him off. 

You deserved what was coming. 

You try frantically to step around Max, feeling the need to absorb the fire you knew Lando was going to spew everywhere. But Max won’t allow it. Without a single glance in your direction, Max shifts his weight once again and you find yourself even further away from Lando now. Somewhere to your left, you sense Charles and Arthur step in front of you two and you’re certain Lorenzo is around somewhere. 

“Typical LeClerc behavior. Hiding behind others who are more powerful than you in order to save face. Learned from the best, didn’t you baby?” The venom in Lando’s voice sinks it’s claws into your bloodstream, threatening to drag you under. 

Around you, conversations cease instantly, all attention on the scene happening in the corner of the room. 

You weren’t going to let Lando win this though. You were done giving him the power to control you, done dodging the confrontation in an attempt to quietly end things between you. He just wasn’t getting the hint and if he was going to behave like this, then fine. You were fed up. 

Pushing through Max and Charles, you stand in front of your ex-boyfriend, head held high. “Lando, this is neither the time nor the place to do this.” Your voice is deceptively calm, not giving away a bit of the fear that trembles just below the surface. 

Lando sneers, rolling his eyes and then his gaze snags on the necklace at your throat. The navy blue stone catches the light, winking over at him with an antagonizing shimmer. He takes half a step closer and you feel Max shift again, but this time he comes to stand beside you instead of in front of you. 

“Wearing his collar already, huh?” He bites out. A chorus of gasps ripple through the gallery but you just tip your chin up higher, used to his attempts at humiliation. Lando’s gaze shifts to Max beside you and a cruel smile curls at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me, Verstappen. Does she still make that little cooing noise right before she comes? It was always the sweetest little sound, you know the one I’m talking about, right?” 

Humiliation burns through you, hot and bright as Max reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. Another ripple of disbelief peppers through the crowd but Max barely blinks. “You know, I’ve never heard her make that particular sound.” He pauses and Lando’s face lights up in a brilliant smile, as if he’s won. “Usually, she’s too busy screaming my name when I make her come though so she’s never been one to make quiet little sounds with me.” 

Silence. 

“I always knew you were a cheating whore.” 

A sickening crack rings out in the otherwise silent room as your brother’s fist connects squarely with Lando’s jaw. 

“Charles!” You gasp, hand flying to your throat as you watch Lando stagger back. 

Charles shakes out his hand, received to be able to move all of his fingers. He can’t imagine that call to Maranello going well if he’d had to phone about a broken hand. 

“Keep my sister’s name out of your filthy fucking mouth, you piece of trash.” Charles spits, voice a mask of sheer deathly calm.

Max steps forward, a silent demand for order radiating from the way he stands. “Enough.” His voice is unwaveringly calm as he watches Lando struggle to his feet, clutching at his left eye where a deep blue bruise is already blooming. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the police. I don’t think Zak would be to happy to hear about tonight’s shenanigans or enjoy having to read the media coverage after his star driver gets arrested for harassment.” Max takes half a step towards Lando and you enjoy the way the Brit scrambles away. “If you so much as sneeze in her direction ever again, I will make it my life’s mission to see your entire life ruined, Norris.” Max is practically nose to nose with Lando now, his glare cutting down your ex-boyfriend so he appears about two inches tall. “Are. We. Clear?” 

****

Later that night, Max startles awake, unsurprised to find himself alone in your bed. He knew you were restless tonight. It had taken him nearly twice as long as it usually did for him to pull your body to release underneath him. And after, when you had tumbled head first into sleep, naked beside him, you weren’t settled like you usually were when you slept beside him. 

So no, he wasn’t surprised to find you gone and the bed long cold beside him. 

Pulling on a pair of boxers, Max wanders into your spare bedroom that’s morphed into somewhat of a second studio space. He finds you exactly where he expects you: facing away from him sitting in front of a half finished canvas. You’re bathed in a brilliant blue moonlight, wearing nothing but his white dress shirt from earlier and his necklace you still haven’t removed. 

“Come back to bed, my love.” He murmurs into the crook of your neck as you drop your head onto his, sinking into the warmth of his embrace. 

A soft sound of agreement hums in the back of your throat as you place the brush on the table beside you. Max is a touch surprised with how pliant you are, instantly following his suggestion without much fight but he also knows today took a lot out of you and the thing you sometimes craved was the ability to shut it all off. 

“I wasn’t getting much work done anyway.” You murmur, standing and leaning into his embrace even more. The room is chilly anyway and you find yourself needing Max’s touch more than anything else in that moment. 

You allow Max to tug you out the door towards your bedroom, knowing that he’s able to read you perfectly. He doesn’t rush you though. He lets you linger for a moment in the doorway, your gaze snagging lightly on the painting behind you. It’s a gorgeous landscape that you’re known for, something you haven’t been able to paint in what feels like a lifetime. The moonlight paints silver streaks across the floor, illuminating the painting that you had spent the last hour just starting at. It’s a peaceful scene, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had filled your day. A small, contented sigh escapes your lips and Max squeezes your hand just enough to pull your attention back to him. 

Once back in the bedroom, the chill of the room sends a shiver down your spine. Max, ever attentive, pulls back the covers, gesturing for you to climb in first. He watches as you curl up on your side, tucking your knees up in towards your chest. The white shirt slips off your body, revealing the delicate curve of your spine. He slides in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Max reaches out, his hand finding the curve of your hip and gently pulls you closer until your back is flush against his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach. 

You melt into his touch, the warmth of his body radiating through you. His breath is warm against the back of your neck and the steady rhythm of his heart is a soothing lullaby you’ve come to depend on at night. The events of earlier linger in the back of your mind, but here, in Max’s arms they start to feel a little more distant, muffled almost. He kisses the nape of your neck softly, a quiet reminder of his constant presence in your life now, how he’ll never allow you to be alone of face anything by yourself anymore. 

“Better?” He whispers, voice low and rumbling against your bare skin. 

“Mm-hmm” You hum, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You reach down and take his hand that sits on your belly, intertwining your fingers with his. The simple act of holding his hand grounds you, reminding you that you’re not alone anymore. You turn slightly in his arms, just enough to look up at him. His eyes, even in the dim light of the bedroom, are filled with tenderness and understanding. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 

Max smiles, a soft, reassuring smile that makes your heart ache in the best way. “For what, liefje?” His Dutch accent is thick now, as it gets when he’s tired and emotional. 

“For everything.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “For being here. For understanding. For taking care of me.” 

He pulls you closer, his hold tighenying slightly. “Always.” He murmurs against your lips. “Always and forever, my love.” 

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you know that no matter what happens next, you and Max will face it together. This, right here, in his arms, is your happy ending that you’ve been chasing after your entire life. 

Tag list:

@shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164

[drghostwrite]

Hello! I'm obsessed with Agatha too and I would like to request 1."Touch her and you're dead" and 7. "I need you to stay close to me."

Protective Agatha x reader is my weakness pleaseeee

omg yes… I would literally melt for protective Agatha… ughhh😫

p.s. I hope this is okay, I went with a angsty and fluffy version instead of the usual smut lol

Summary: what happens when your wife’s ex lover makes a grand appearance… Rio hears that Agatha has settled down, but when she arrives to find Agatha’s very pregnant wife, it’s not what she was expecting.

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x preg!wife!reader

Hold my hand

********************************************************

The clock ticked past midnight, and the soft glow of your laptop screen blurred, pages of research scattered across your desk as a dull headache clawed at your temples. Between the strain of staring at your laptop screen and the relentless kicking of the baby growing inside you, focus was a distant memory. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing a hand over your swollen belly.

“Okay, little one,” you murmured, half-amused, half-exhausted. “You are your mothers child.”

A small smile tugged at your lips despite your discomfort… something about the fact that your baby was already showing stubborn determination felt poetic. With a sigh, you closed your laptop and the open books scattered across your desk.

It was time to call it a night.

The quiet of the house felt grounding as you made your way to the bedroom. The warm glow of a bedside lamp greeted you, and there, perched against the headboard, was your wife, Agatha.

She looked stunning, as always. Her dark hair fell in wild, natural waves, framing her sharp features in a way that made your heart flutter. The silk of her deep plum pajamas clung to her curves, the rich color enhancing her porcelain skin. One hand held a book while her other traced absentmindedly along the edge of the pages. She looked so serene, but when her eyes flicked up to meet yours, that familiar smirk curled her lips—knowing, teasing, and utterly irresistible.

“Finally decided to join me?” she drawled, closing her book and setting it aside. Her eyes roamed over you, lingering on the way you cradled your bump.

You slipped into bed beside her, letting out a soft groan as you tried to settle under the weight of your growing belly.

She reached over brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face, “What’s wrong?”

“Headache,” you murmured when her hand found its way to your hair, her fingers immediately raking through it with practiced ease.

“Come here,” she whispered softly, feeling as you shifted to lean into her more. Her other hand pressed gently into a pressure point at the base of your skull, and you couldn’t stop the contented sigh that escaped you as the pain began to ease. “There, better?”

“Much.” you sighed leaning into her touch.

“What would you do without me,” she teased, her lips quirking as she chuckled softly, “be completely helpless, my love?”

“Don’t start…” you huffed.

You rolled your eyes, too relaxed to protest, and leaned further into her touch. Just as you felt yourself starting to drift off, your baby decided to remind you of their presence with a strong kick.

“Oh, little one,” you groaned and shifted slightly, Agatha’s hand was warm as it came down to feel the kicks of your baby, “We get it, you’re feisty.”

Agatha’s laugh was soft and rich as her hand replaced yours, her fingers moving in soothing circles over your belly. “They take after their mother,” she teased, her voice low and affectionate.

“You’re not off the hook,” you mumbled. “You’re just as stubborn as I am.”

Another sharp kick and you groaned, your hand flying to your belly. “Seriously, do they ever stop?”

Agatha smirked, leaning down so her lips were mere inches from your belly. “Alright, my little love, settle down for your mama,” she brushed her lips over the taut fabric covering your belly, “your mama needs to rest.”

Almost immediately, the kicking softened, and your baby responded to her voice as if they were already under her spell.

You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t know how you do that.”

“Magic,” she replied with a smug smirk, “and they know who’s in charge.” She leaned up to place a kiss to your temple.

The gentle soothing of her voice and the constant warmth of her body against yours lulled you into a peaceful sleep, your head tucked against her neck, her arms wrapped protectively around you.

But the peace didn’t last.

You woke in the dead of night, your senses prickling with unease. Agatha’s arms were still draped possessively over you, her breathing steady and soft as you tried getting closer to her, but something felt wrong. Carefully, you slipped out of bed, wrapping a robe around yourself as you padded downstairs.

You froze at the sight of a stranger standing in your living room. A tall woman with dark hair and matching dark eyes, she ran her fingers over the mantle above your fireplace, adorned with some decor and pictures of you and Agatha.

“Who the hell are you?” you demanded, your voice low but firm as you instinctively shielded your belly.

The woman turned, her lips curving into a predatory smile. “Rio Vidal,” she introduced herself, her tone dripping with mockery. “And you must be the reason Agatha’s been so quiet these days.”

“Rio… you and Agatha…” you started, hearing a name that your wife avoided saying at all costs.

“So you do know me,” her sadistic smile catching in the light, “I always thought Agatha kept me a secret.”

“What do you want?” your pressed a firm hand to where your baby kicked in response, you voice wavering at the thought of Agatha sleeping upstairs.

“Oh relax,” she started slowly moving towards you, “I was just curious. I heard Agatha had settled down… I never saw her as the marrying type and yet here you stand pregnant with her baby no less…” Rio’s gaze dipped to your belly, and her smile widened.

Her hand ghosted over your bump, and you instinctively stepped back, magic flaring at your fingertips.

“Don’t,” you warned.

But Rio only laughed, her dark energy crackling around her. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve got some fight in you… nice to see you’re more than just a pretty face.”

She struck first, but you were quicker, deflecting her attack and sending a blast of energy that sent her skidding back.

“Oh I like you,” Rio’s smile turned feral. “Feisty and powerful. No wonder Agatha fell in love with you.”

Before she could strike again, your eyes flashed silver, your untamed power surging to the surface. But before you could unleash it, a low dangerous voice froze you both.

“Touch her and you’re dead.”

Agatha’s tone was lethal and laced with venom, when Rio turned, her smirk faltered under the weight of your wife’s glare.

Rio glanced at her, her smile turning coy. “Agatha,” she said, her voice dripping with mock affection. “It’s been a while. You didn’t tell me you’d moved on so… domestically.”

“This isn’t a game, Rio,” Agatha snapped, “Get out. Now.”

Rio’s eyes flicked back to you, and she smirked. “You always did love a challenge… nice to see you still have good taste.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Agatha growled, her magic flaring dangerously.

Rio held her hands up in mock surrender, stepping back. “Alright, alright. No need to get territorial.” She glanced at you one last time, her grin sharp. “Until next time, sweetheart.” With a flick of her wrist, she vanished into the shadows.

The moment she was gone, Agatha was at your side, her hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face and then moved to your belly. “Are you hurt? Is the baby…?”

“I’m fine, we’re fine…” you assured her, though your voice wavered.

Agatha’s jaw tightened, and she pulled you into her arms, holding you as if to reassure herself you were truly okay.

Later, back in bed, you curled against her, her hand resting protectively over your belly. “I can hold my own, you know,” you murmured.

“I know,” Agatha said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “But you’re mine, and I don’t take chances with what’s mine.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “You’re stuck with me, you know. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her voice cracked as she whispered, “I… I can’t lose you… I need you to stay close to me. Always.”

“You have my whole heart, Agatha,” you replied. “I’m not going anywhere, you have me... always.”

“I love you Y/N Harkness.” She said pressing a kiss to your head as she continued tracing patterns over your baby bump, reassuring herself that everything was okay.

“I love you to… Mrs. Agatha Harkness.” You said leaning further into her, placing a kiss to her neck before your forehead found the crook of her neck as you settled against her.

And as you settled back into bed, her arms wrapped tightly around you, you both knew there was no breaking the bond you shared… no matter what… or who tried.

[m4y4wasnthere]

i’m not pretending

dallas x f!reader ; fake dating scenario

fic request here

warnings: cursing, oral giving, degradation, praise, hair pulling ; smut with plot!

a/n: this is a wayyy longer fic than my other ones so um, be prepared. this one also is a bit more ooc dallas 😭

summary: your obsessive ex is getting super unbearable to the point you go to Dallas Winston for help. A fake dating scenario long enough to make your ex lose interest in you, along with a few rules, one of which says no catching feelings. this never works out well 😒

“look, I know we aren’t the best of friends but please! it won’t be awhile, maybe just a month or two, he keeps following me everywhere!”

You were following Dallas along the sidewalk begging him to agree to fake a relationship with you. You two were definitely not close at any means but he was your best bet at getting some kind of privacy from your obsessive ex.

“christ’s sake, fine! now stop being so annoyin’ and followin’ me around, go back home or wherever man,” he stated while abruptly stopping. You bumped into him and he gave you a cold glare over his shoulder. You got the hint and backed away.

“meet me at the Dingo tomorrow, we can discuss more about it.” You walked back home content with yourself with convincing him, but you had no idea how far this plan would go.

✰ ✰ ✰

“okay lets make a list of rules. uh, for number one, no kissing,” you got out a piece of paper and started to scribble down.

“a list? Who do you think I am?” Dallas fiddles with a small jumble of some garbage wrap from a straw. He doesn’t look at you but his eyebrows are furrowed while trying to make a paper ring out of it.

“yes, a list.” You shoot him a glare, he doesn’t bother to see. “maybe if you made lists, you wouldn’t always be losing your wallet,” you muttured under your breath.

“no kissing? look, I’m not lookin’ forward to this but I’m smart enough to know that nobody is gonna buy this if we don’t kiss.” Dallas snatched the pencil away from you and tried to erase the rule.

“i’m not wasting my first kiss on you.” Dallas paused and you were expecting a snarky remark but he just sighed.

“no kissing, on the lips, how ‘bout that?” He jotted down on the paper. You nodded in slight appreciation, he gave the pencil back to you and the two of you spent the rest of the hour going back and forth making up rules.

Your list came out to be this:

1. no kissing on the lips

2. no flirting/hooking up with other people

3. we each have to give each other something to show our relationship is real

4. weekly dates

5. stop only in private

6. pet names are needed

7. dont tell anyone

8. no catching feelings

the two of you didn’t have strict boundaries other than the last one. neither of you thought it would be hard rule to follow, your mutual dislike made it all really easy.

you guys agreed on starting this ‘contract’ tomorrow.

✰ ✰ ✰

its been 2 months since this fake dating agreement started. you found that Dallas wasnt as insufferable as you originally thought. he was funny with his wit commentary, his sarcasm, his carelessness about everything, you admired him in a way.

he was also beautiful, you noticed it before but never wanted to admit it. his dark hair complimented his sharp features but his eyes were soft in contrast.

your heart fluttered everytime he called you doll, his gal, even your name sounded like foreign music when it rolled off his tounge.

what was happening? Suddenly every-time you guys went on dates, you wished they could be more private, you wished he would hold your hand a bit longer, you wished his eyes would linger on yours and always trace your face, you wished he liked you.

you had a crush on Dallas Winston.

every second longer you stayed with him, you broke the rules of the “contract” more.

what were you supposed to do? suddenly everytime you guys were out, your acting became more snd more believable because you weren’t acting anymore. well, you wish it wasn’t acting for both of you.

you found yourself spaced out more often, lost in daydreams about your fake boyfriend, thinking about how he would react if he knew, how he would embrace you and tell you he felt the sam-

“doll? are ya okay? you’ve been looking at my arm for awhile.”

je snapped you back to reality. arms on the table, elbows planted, playing with a ring of his and twirling it on his finger.

“sorry I was just thinking.” you looked down at your untouched plate of food and starting grabbing some fries to eat.

“you ’re thinking a lot more often, i don’t know if I really like it. can’t get enough attention from you nowadays.”

he looked at you through his lashes with those gorgeous eyes. your stomach flipped and you almost dropped a fry.

“what if I’m thinking about you?” you said blunty, you tried to let out a small laugh to cover up your honest statement.

dallas stopped playing with his ring, it fell flat on the table with a quiet clunk. his eyes pierced through yours, your stomach churning with the realization of what you just said.

your face flushed with heat, ears burning, your eyes flickered to the floor. the diner felt as if it was closing in around you, it was too much to handle. you got up stiffly and grabbed your bag.

dallas was stuck sitting his chair, he was just staring at you. why wasnt he saying anything?

gosh how could i be so stupid and just say that???

you quickly walked towards the exit of the diner, passing by familiar faces. the sounds of your soles were followed by thumps. is he following me?

you quickened your pace and pushed the door open. your house was maybe a 3 minute bike ride away, about 5-10 minutes walking distance. of course you walked here with dallas so there was no way you couldnt make it home fast enough to your liking.

you spotted a black cruiser bike laying on the sidewalk. its been there for a few days, so there wasnt much worry for it having an owner.

you quickly hopped on it and starting biking up the sidewalk.

you heard faint steps catching up to you.

“doll, where are you going? c’mon lets talk about this !” dallas’ yelling slowly got muffled as you got farther away.

you couldnt help but tear up a bit as you finally stopped hearing his voice. i feel so stupid, i didnt think before i spoke. i wasnt supposed to say that.

✰ ✰ ✰

its been 2 weeks since your stupid accident confession to dallas.

you’ve been avoiding him at all costs, if you ever saw him at the same place, you left immediately.

he constantly tries calling your home phone, but you never pick up. too scared to hear what he has to say. until today.

you heard a knock on your front door. your house wasnt anything special, in a bit better shape than the curtis household but not so different in size or layout. your parents pay it off but they’re rarely home, their jobs always keep them occupied.

you were tired, you were having breakdowns throughout the weeks over dallas. you were too scared to talk to him, afraid of the chance of rejection.

you didnt really care for your appearence most of the week since you stayed home. you were wearing a cozy beige sweater and some black shorts.

you groggily made your way to the front door, about to turn the knob when the knocking became insistent.

“im opening up, god, just wait a bit !” you yelled annoyingly. the locks came undone and the door got swung open.

“hey.” dallas stood there infront of you. you stood stunned for a few moments before speaking.

“go back home dallas. im not in the mood to talk.” you went to close the door, when his hand stopped you. pushing it was no help, he held it open with no struggle.

“no shit, ive been trying to call you all week.” he walked past you into the living room. he stood, analyzing your home with tired eyes. he laid down on your couch, stretched out.

“sit with me.” he gestured next to him. you hesitantly walked over but sat on the far end of the couch to his dismay. he frowned alittle before speaking up again.

“c’mon doll talk to me. i havent seen you in weeks, ‘missed you.” he muttered the last part under his breath. you shifted uncomfortably and grabbed a nearby blanket to cover yourself with.

even now he was unbelievably hot. you hated yourself for even noticing. his hair was noticeably messy and his eyes had slight bags under them. his black tank top always hugged him in the right places

you looked away.

“talk about what dal? i dont know why your here. you should just go hom-“

“your avoiding me and i dont know what i did. okay?” he stands up, “the last time i saw you, you just drove off on whoevers damn bike that was. ’ve been calling you for a week straight and no answer.” his hands wave through the air as he talks before he plops back down and rests his head in his hands.

“look ‘m sorry if apparently its so bad that im worried about my girlfriend.” he leans back on the couch, breathless.

“fake girlfriend.” you muttered sharply under your breath. your crossed your arms, staring at the floor.

“is that what this is about?” he looks at you with a sharp turn, “god, baby, i dont care about what you said last week. it didnt bother me at all.”

“thats the thing. it didnt !” you took the blanket off and started pacing infront of him, “you dont care that i basically just said i liked you. it doesnt mean anything to you.” you were getting yourself worked up with each word you said, your eyes starting to get blurry with tears, “this stupid fake relationship and these stupid rules and i broke one of the most important ones, and you dont seem to be affected at all!” you crossed your arms and stared at him, unaware of the tears starting to stain your cheeks.

“doll i never said-“ dallas stands up and tries to approach you, but you pull away.

“dont try and lie, its not gonna make me feel better. just go dal, go.”

he ignores your statement and pulls you into his chest. you try and push him away but he doesnt let you go.

he lets out a low chuckle.

“you think this is funny? what is wrong with you !” he holds you tightly against him.

“no doll i swear ‘m not laughing at you. its just-“ he smiles lightly as he struggles to gather his words.

“i never said it didn’t effect me. god baby, if you just answered the phone. you’d know that i didn’t mind,” he stops hugging you so you can look at him,

“i wasn’t pretending. ‘nd i love you too or whatever. dont make me say it again.”

you stare at him dumbfounded.

“what?” you stop struggling against his grip and just try and process what hes saying.

“are we okay now? can you stop avoiding me?” he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he holds your face in his hands.

“yes..” you say hesitantly. what do i do now? does that mean we’re dating? fuck.

he leans in so he can whisper in your ear,

“does this mean i can kiss you?”

you shakily nod and he pulls you in from your waist, his head tilts to the side and he hesitates before his lips reach yours.

your body was trembling from the slight affection. his lips were warm and soft, so different from his personality.

he put his hand behind your head to pull you into him more, making the kiss deeper. his other hand danced along your spine, until deciding to rest on your face.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him stumble a bit backwards before grabbing hold of the couch.

he pulled away for a breath before sitting down and pulling you forward to straddle him. his eyes traced your face. his gaze pierced your eyes, down to your mouth.

“my pretty girl” he mumbled before taking your lips again.

this time is was more forceful, more passionate. he grabbed at you thighs and had his hands travel all over your body. you helped him take his jacket off and threw it to the side.

he let his tongue into your mouth, making you moan into him.

he sucked on your tongue, he let his toungue slide across your teeth. he was hungry for you, he wanted more.

“take your sweater off f’me baby. let me see those pretty tits.”

he helped your sweater above your arms and over your head. your tits slightly bounced with the motion.

“no bra? fuck, your gonna be the death of me doll.”

he immediately ducked down to suck on your breast. he flicked his tongue around your nipple. you squirmed underneath him, breathy moans escaping your lips. his hands cupped your breasts, he swirled his finger around your other nipple and pinched it.

his lips de attached themselves from your tit with a pop. he licked his lips and gazed at you with a grin before returning to leaving sloppy kisses all over your chest.

“you like watching me lick all over your tits doll? ‘m making you feel good?”

you moaned quietly in response. “use your fucking words baby.” he bit some of your plush skin. “mph ! yes dal i like it.. please don’t stop” your skin flushed with embarrassment as he smirked at your obedience.

“so good f’me baby.” he lifted his head to look at you, admiring the hickeys that covered your now sore breasts.

dal took his shirt off, revealing his slighty sweaty toned body. you couldnt help but stare, you traced his faint ab lines. he watched you intently. you leaned down and licked up his abs.

“fuck doll… didn’t know you were like that. do it again.”

so of course, you did it again, this time dallas fumbled with his belt and reached down his pants. he stroked himself as he watched you lick up his chest.

“can i do it for you?”

dallas grinned and lifted you up so you were standing infront of him. he carefully stood up so he could take his pants and boxers off fully.

“sit back down baby.”

you sat in his place as you watched him slowly get out of his boxers. shit. hes big. hes the right amount inbetween thick and long.

you couldnt help but drool at the sight of him. naked and sweaty, dick right infront of your face, twitching for you.

“yea ‘m fucking big. you sure you can take this baby? not gonna be too much for you?” he smirked and said in a mocking tone.

you didnt say anything, instead you put your hands on his dick and slowly started to jerk him off.

he let out low grunts before you opened your mouth and licked the precum off his tip.

“fuck… baby, suck my cock like a good girl already.”

you obliged. you slowly opened your mouth to let more of him in, sucking and swirling around his twitching cock.

he got inpatient and grabbed a fistful of your hair and started bobbing your head up and down. tears swelled in your eyes at how big and full his cock was.

“yea doll, cry for this dick. make me want to fuck you sore.” dallas loved watching you at his mercy. he heard your gasps for air and felt the spit that piled each time you took him in fully. hearing him degrade you like this made you so wet. you couldnt help but sneak a finger down your shorts to relive yourself.

your other hand crept up his thigh and behind his ballsack. you pressed into a very special spot that you knew well.

“wait, fuck, you can’t just-“

his cock twitched in your mouth, precum oozing down your chin. his grunts became low moans of approval as you kept rubbing at his g-spot. you started to rub your clit at a steady pace.

“keep going baby. ‘m gonna come, dont swallow it.”

after a few more swishes of your tongue, you felt his cock pulsate and release white loads in your mouth. it almost made you gag with how deep he was.

“fuck baby. stick your tongue out.”

you looked up at him and stuck your tongue out. it was full of creamy white cum, and it was all his. the thought of it made you squirm and touch yourself even more. your legs squeezed together as you swallowed.

he suddenly took your hand and dragged you to your bedroom, when he forcefully pushed you against your desk.

��dal-“

“cant even wait for me huh pretty girl? had to start touching yourself at the thought of me.” he tore your shorts off with ease. “so fucking wet just by sucking my dick, your panties are soaked.” he rubbed your clit through the thin fabric.

“please dal i want you inside me. please baby, i just got too excited, i needed to touch myself.” your ass was pressed against his legs and your back was arched as you had your head turned to look at him.

“beg f’me some more. i want to know how bad you want this” he hit his hard cock against your covered pussy. you whined underneath him, moving your hips back and forth to get just the tiniest ounce of friction.

“please dal i’ll do anything, i want your cock so bad. im so wet for you.. i wont touch myself without permission again, just please put it in, please please please..” you continued to whimper under his touch and grind on him.

without warning he held the fabric to the slide and slipped 2 fingers into your needy hole.

“such a needy fucking doll.” he pumped his fingers in and out, coating them in your arousal. “just imagine how good my cock will feel,” he takes his fingers out, “pumping in and out of you.” then pushes them back in.

breathless moans escaped your lips as you felt your insides clench around him. you arched your back and your hands struggled to find something to grab on.

he curled his fingers as he pumped them in out, making you jolt in response.

“dally-“ you were cut off by his thumb reaching to your clit, rubbing small circles.

“oh, dal..” you let your upper half rest ontop of the desk. dallas continued rubbing your clit and pumping his fingers in your pussy, you started to feel a build up in your core.

you moved your hips in contradiction with his fingers, making each thrust even deeper.

“dal ‘m gonna come, keep going please.”

you felt yourself twitch as the knot you felt in your core break and your pussy pulsated around dallas’ fingers.

your body fell up and down panting from the orgasm, dallas took his fingers out and pulled your hair so you were pressed up against him.

you turned your head slightly behind you to view his face, to your surprise, he put his fingers in his mouth. licking your cum off his fingertips.

“you taste so good, y’know that doll?”

you watched as his tongue glided across his digits, fingers glistened with saliva and your own arousal. it made your pussy crave for more.

he pushed you back down on the desk and lifted your ass up in one swift motion.

“ngh ! dal be more-“

the tip of his dick slid into you and he forced his whole cock inside.

“shit. you’re tight..”

you let out an unexpected moan as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you. his thick cock stretching your insides.

“oh yea.. dallas.. i love you”

you moaned nonsense as he fucked you senseless. he found a steady but quick rhythm to stick too.

dallas leaned down fully, his sweaty chest against your back, grinning ear to ear, “you what? couldn’t hear you baby.”, he whispered. he slid out and rubbed your clit with the tip of his precum covered cock.

you whimpered and tried to grind against him, but it wasn’t the same as feeling him fill you up.

he held your arms behind your back, “ah ah doll, tell me what you said. i wanna hear it.” you struggled to find friction against him.

“i said i love you dal. i love you so much, please put it in again. i need your thick cock in me.. please..”

with a delighted chuckle, dallas shoved his cock back into you, your eyes rolled back as he slammed into you harder than before.

with each thrust, you felt your core tighten again, you clenched your pussy feel him more.

dallas felt what you were doing, he reached under you and put a thumb on your clit, rubbing slowly.

the knot in your stomach was becoming hard to suppress, dallas’ unfiltered moans didnt help.

his thrusts started to get sloppy and staggered, his cock twitched inside of you everytime you clenched down.

“dally ‘m gonna come, come with me?”

he smacked your ass in response, making you arch your back even further.

“yes doll, ‘m gonna come now. let me fill that sweet little pussy up.”

with a few more struggled thrusts, you felt him shoot his warm load inside of you. you released your 2nd orgasm, sending euphoria up to your brain. he continued to sloppily thrust before pulling out slowly.

he watched as cum dripped from your pulsing hole, he dragged his fingers up and pushed all of the white substance back in.

“so pretty when your all sweaty and ruined by me. you agree baby?”

all you could do was tiredly nod and make an incomprehensible noise. your head lay on the desk, drool leaving your mouth. you couldnt think at all.

✰ ✰ ✰

you woke up in a tight warm blanket. you barely remembered the night before, but when you tried to move, you realized that there was no blanket.

it was dallas.

“dal?”

dallas grunted in response.

“you stayed?”

he shifted his position until you were able to look up at him.

“f’course i stayed.”

you stayed silent, looking at his shut eyes.

“so..are we…?”

dallas groggily opened his eyes to look at you.

“what do you think doll. you think i stay with just anyone until morning?”

he planted a kiss on your forehead, before drifting back to sleep.

you knew he wasnt good with words, but that kiss was just enough.

✰ ✰ ✰

[anonymous-existences]

DCXDP Prompt 7

Dead Serious Ship but with a twist(?) of a sort. And Good Parents Fenton's + Casper High Classmates knows Danny is Phantom.

• Damian and Danny were Teenage Sweethearts and Danny was in Gotham due to Amity Park Stuff with his parents still taking down the GIW, up until they turned 18 when Damian suddenly became distant. He started canceling plans, distancing himself from his beloved, even going as far as no longer calling Danny by their usual pet names.

From Lovers to Strangers.

• Danny is confused on why Damian is suddenly so distant, until Damian just disappeared, he never contacted Danny at all. Danny's mind is now cluttered with overthinking thoughts that range from negative to dreadful thoughts, at first it was worry that Damian died but he sees an article of Damian being alive and well.... and with someone. Danny feels his heart break into a million goddamn pieces and seeks refuge in his family's arms and moving back to Amity Park.

• Damian's reason of disappearance was apparently for Danny's safety as Ra's had taken particular interest in the boy that has Lazarus Running in their DNA as if it is their blood and for Danny's safety Damian decided to distance himself, a specific mission that required him a partner to take down a specific organization is where the article comes from(Writer can change the last part, either way angst is inevitable).

• 2-3 years later Danny comes back to Gotham because a Ghost of his had something from their grave stolen, and it was stored in the Gotham Museum. Although Danny hates it he stays as it is his duty as A Halfa (Or a Ghost King) to retrieve his people's items from the other side of the veil. Danny happened to attend a gala in one of these occasions and Damian spots him.

Damian and Danny Part :

• Danny feels dread and hatred whenever he sees Damian, Damian is desperate to get him back.

Damian becomes possessive and the Batfam finally tone him down after Danny slaps him, This is mostly angst of Damian being unable to have Danny back as Danny finally settles into the Ghost Zone and Amity Park.

Summary Danny holds a grudge after thinking Damian cheated on him and ghosted him, Danny is not fine and when he does come back to Gotham for Ghost King/Halfa Duties Damian tries to pursue him again which ends with a lot of Vigilante and Phantom shenanigans along with Robin and Phantom romance where they both don't know about each other's Civilian life and when they do more heartbreak and chaos ensue.

Damian wants Danny back so bad and regrets letting his Beloved Polaris go for a mission and for not trusting himself or his family to be able to protect Danny, Danny doesn't like Damian because Damian brings back memories of the last that he truly, really wants to forget because everytime he thinks about it he wants to cry himself to sleep.

My thought is bittersweet ending but that's on the writer's choice or inspiration of this, thanks for reading my crack. I'll see y'all later.

[elliesmainhoe]

need ellie to take care of me drunk desperately

i love your writing 😭

Rescue Remedy

e.williams x fem!reader

summary: you call Ellie to come and rescue you from a bar after having a few too many drinks

warnings: alcohol, cigarettes, mentions of hangovers, slurred speech, drunk crying, fluff.

just realized this is basically a self insert vent post of a very similar situation I've been in LMAO

WC 1K

DAY 4 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

you were relieved when the familiar beaten up Ford focus pulled up beside you. you'd been sitting on the curb for almost 15 minutes- tear stained cheeks, smudged glitter and mascara as your body shook and jittered from both the cold Seattle night and the mixture of cigarette smoke and alcohol causing the most humbling case of hiccups you think you've ever had.

"Ells!" you whined, a new flood of tears streaming from your eyes at the sight of your night in shining armour- your girlfriend.

"c'mon sweet girl" she huffed, hair thrown up messily in the usual half up, half down style, clad in red and black checkered pyjama pants, black hoodie that was splattered with paint topped off with the obnoxious lime green crocks you'd gotten her for her one Christmas, of course decked out in charms shed collected over the past few months.

before you could even process it you were sitting in the passenger seat, leather seats sticking to your sweat glazed skin, and sobs turning to hiccups.

this had been the worst night out you'd had since your 21st. and as soon as the car revved and moved down the road, Ellie's hand pressed firmly on your bare thigh, the fabric of your dress not long enough to cover the majority of your thigh.

"what happened sweet girl?" oh and by that one question, it's like Ellie had opened a flood gate.

firstly, you got to the club of choice after having to walk almost a mile from where your designated driver had parked, accompanied by a couple of friends. after queuing on the curb for almost thirty minutes, you reached the front of the queue and then promptly realized you had left you purse. with your id. in the car. a mile away.

so after you'd trekked all the way to the car, retrieving your purse and id, getting back to the club, queuing for another 30 minutes, on your own this time- as your friends who had not forgotten their id decided to go in and leave you to sort your shit out.

let's just say you were already a little pissed off.

secondly, you got in the club and it stunk. not just of sweat and booze, but piss. fucking piss. and to top that all off you couldn't find your friends so- you did what any other sane person would do and ordered shots.

shots that were actually doubles, but of course you hadnt realized that until way too late.

which leads into the final stage of the night, your head being deep in a grimy toilet bowl, knees bruised from having to kneel on tiles that were not grouted properly and pieces of them shot out and cut at your skin.

and by that point you had gotten out your phone, which was now on 7% charge because you had offers to use your GPS and it drained all your battery, and was a blubbering mess on call with your girlfriend.

you would later have to retell the story again, as apparently according to Ellie- she couldn't understand a word you were saying, just nodding along in a desperate attempt to keep you awake long enough to get a glass of water and a slice of toast down you.

it must have been during your tangent when you'd gotten home, as when you finally finished your incoherent mumbling you were sitting on the beat up leather couch of yours and Ellie's apartment, a couch you'd hated as soon as you moved in, but Ellie had a weird attachment to so it stayed in it's place, the first thing you saw when you entered the home.

Ellie was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your thighs and facing you, holding up a large glass of water,

"sip baby" she spoke softly, to which you groaned.

"do- do- I haveeeeeee to?" you whined, batting your eyelashes in an attempt to distract your girlfriend "jus' wan' sleep"

"you can sleep after you drink that." after another groan you took a sip of the glass of water- admittedly, it was refreshing, however you still gagged to prove a point.

"good girl" she purred, standing up and kissing your forehead, moving over to the cabinet to grab a packet of pills.

"fuck off"

she laughs, moving back with a small white pill in the palm of her hand, to which you begrudgingly take after Ellie promises to take you to get ice cream the day after.

you felt your eyelids droop once more, you couldn't tell if it was sleep, or just your false eyelashes becoming suddenly very heavy, you whine "'m tired ells..."

"alright I hear you, c'mon baby" she sighs, leaving a half eaten piece of toast on the coffee table, one arm supporting your back and the other under your knees as she made her way to your bedroom, plopping you on the mattress and you sigh, already drifting to sleep before you screech at the feeling of something wet in your face.

"hey- hey" Ellie laughs, "I'm just taking off your makeup baby, just taking off your makeup", she smiles, dragging a cotton pad across your skin, taking off the creams and powders you had applied previously, smudged mascara coming off with it.

Ellie was thankful you'd taken off your clothes as soon as you stepped foot into the apartment saying something which she thinks was "dresses like these are modern day torture devices"- but with the way you slur your words when drunk she could never be sure, leaving you just in your underwear, making her job a whole lot easier.

trying to maneuver you, who had now dropped on the mattress like a deadweight, would've been a too strenuous task for 3am.

after discarding the used wipes and pulling your hair back into a very messy ponytail, Ellie scooted in beside you, the mattress sinking as you unconsciously snuggle in closer, head nuzzling into the girls neck, her hand going around to caress your back, soothing you into an easy sleep.

the hangover tomorrow was going to be horrible.

••••••••••••••

The third time I've tried to write this, I almost gave up 🥰

[revasserium]

chapter one: a shadow of the past

roronoa zoro; 3,225 words; angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, mostly enemies in this chapter, tragic!backstory, flashbacks, slightly canon divergent, baroqueworks!reader, no "y/n"

summary: in which zoro will always find you, even if you don't want to be found

a/n: not much to say here other than enjoy! :)

< to the table of contents

It would be months before he sees you again, months before he runs across the typeset of your codename, on a wanted poster with an obscene amount of Berry tacked underneath — more, he thinks, dully, than the last time he’d seen it.

MS. DOUBLE-NINES — WANTED — 90,000,000 BERRY.

“Agent from Baroque Works… seems like a bad lot,” Sanji says, frowning as he squints at the poster, smoke curling from between his teeth.

“Yeah, dunno about that,” Zoro reaches out to rip the poster from the wall, crumpling it in his fist.

“There a story you wanna tell us, moss-head?” Sanji asks, slating Zoro a long glance.

Zoro scoffs, “Barely,” but at a hard look from Nami, he relents, rolling his eyes, “they sent someone called Mr. 7 to recruit me a while back.”

“And…?” Nami asks, probing as the three of them turn back towards the bustling street market, Usopp and Luffy already halfway down the street, chattering about lunch.

“And nothin’. I took care of him.” Zoro makes to toss the crumpled poster onto the ground but he pauses, glancing down at his hands, “the Marines still owe me his bounty though.”

Sanji laughs, even as Nami scoffs.

“Well, let’s try to stay out of their way till we get out of here,” Nami says, eyes caught on the poster in Zoro’s hands, “at least in the Grand Line, there’ll be bigger fish for them to fry.”

Zoro wets his lips, staring down at your disfigured face before tossing it aside.

“If you say so.”

— — —

You have the most delicate hands — nimble fingers and soft, marshmallow palms. You’d cradle the miniscule wooden knife just so, slipping the dulled edge along the tops of the homemade wagashi, making marks in perfect intervals until the cake resembled a flower, just so.

“Okay, now who wants a piece?” you’d ask, giggling as the boys all scrambled over themselves, raising their hands and hooting like monkeys.

Zoro always held back, feigning disinterest, even though his mouth would water just the same.

“Here, a piece for you too,” you’d say, after giving everyone their due share. Behind you, the other boys would always be squabbling for an extra slice, fighting over the crumbles left on the thin rice paper packaging.

“Don’t want it,” he’d say, looking anywhere but at the tantalizing slice of wagashi, the soft lotus-paste insides nearly translucent, the pastel mochi exterior the perfect amount of sticky and sweet.

His mouth goes dry as you hold it up in front of him, cupped in your palms like just-found treasure.

“Everyone else got a piece,” you say, as if that’s reason enough for him to forgo his abstinence.

He swallows.

“Don’t move.”

His eyes flicker open to the shape of you, crouching by his hammock, a knife held to his throat. Outside, the night is thick and moonless, the seawater lapping softly at the sides of the ship.

Zoro huffs out a breath, “Or what?”

He blinks, the afterimages of the dream still solid behind his eyelids.

“Not sure yet, but I’d bet you wouldn’t like the answer, either way,” you say, your voice barely more than a hiss as you shift the blade from one hand to another and he feels the sharp edge of it skim along his skin.

You’re careful not to break any skin as you pull back, ever so slightly, allowing him to sit up.

“What’dyou want?” he asks, moving slow, fingers inching towards his swords, propped by the hammock’s side.

“Nothing too much,” you answer, “just a free ride off this island. And the next time you dock, you’ll never see me again.”

Zoro scoffs, “That a promise?”

Even in the dark, your grin slants crescent-moon sharp. Zoro blinks again, his mind fighting to reconcile the image of you as a child over the shadow hunched over him now, holding a knife to his throat.

“Something like that,” you say, your eyes flickering down to where his fingers are inches from his swords. Zoro sighs, tugging his hand back.

“Fine — but one condition,” he says.

You hike an eyebrow, “From where I’m sitting, you’re not exactly in the position to be making demands.”

Zoro smirks, folding his arms across his chest and stretching out on his hammock.

“And from where I’m sitting — we’re one alarm away from my entire crew wakin’ up. And… they might not be as good as you one on one but… all together?” he shrugs, “I mean, you do the math.”

Your lips curl into a contemptuous snarl, but you don’t fight him on it. Instead, you pull the knife away, tucking it into your belt.

“Fine. What’s your condition?”

Zoro peers at you from a half-lidded eye, “Tell me what happened to you.”

You puff out a laugh, leaning back against a wooden barrel, propping your arm on your knee.

“It’s kind of a long story.”

Zoro motions towards the darkened window, “We’ve got a lotta time.”

You turn your head away, “Maybe tomorrow,” you say, your voice low and fractured.

Zoro frowns, “You made a promise.”

You cast him a faint, woeful smile, “Yeah, but I never told you when I’d tell you the story.”

— — —

The next morning, you awaken to a wide-eyed stare from a boy who couldn’t have been much older than you, grinning ear to ear.

“Hi!”

“W-what the —”

You scramble backwards before realizing that your back is already pressed against the wall.

“Oh! Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up!” the boy leans back, still grinning, propping both his hands on his hips as he stares down at you. Behind him, you can see the shape of Zoro, leaning by the door, swords at his side, a smirk on his face.

“What the hell’s going on here?” you ask, shooting him a dirty look, “you made a promise,” you spit the word back in his face.

Zoro shrugs, “Yeah, but I never said your free ride would be a secret.”

Your eyes narrow into slits as the boy standing over you claps a fist to his palm, turning towards Zoro.

“Oh! I remember now — we saw her on one of the wanted posters! You’re uhm — Ms… Ninety-Nine?”

You wince, sighing as you push yourself up and dust off your trousers, “Miss Double-Nines, but… close enough.”

Zoro snickers.

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m the Captain of this ship! But… I gotta say, your name is way cooler. Did you get to pick it yourself? Or did someone at Bara-Rock Works give it to you?”

You fight down the twitch threatening your left eye as your gaze slingshots to Zoro and back to Luffy again.

“Uhm — someone… assigned it to me. And it’s Baroque Works.”

“Right! Yeah — that one!” Luffy smiles, seemingly unbothered by the implications of you being a member of a known criminal organization.

“Breakfast! C’mon — before it goes cold!” a voice calls down the hallway and a moment later, a blond-haired man in an all black suit peeks his head around the doorframe.

“Ah, our special guest is awake — so what about it, Ms. Double-Nines? Any requests for breakfast? I could do a few eggs, sunny side up, with a side of toast and some freshly made tangerine-butter. Or, we’ve still got some batter left over from the blueberry pancakes yesterday. Take your pick.”

You blink at the man with one shoulder propped against the doorframe, the other supporting a half-done cigarette, bringing it to his mouth for a casual puff.

Zoro lets out an annoyed grunt, “What blueberry pancakes? You gave me left-over potato mush for breakfast yesterday.”

The blonde turns to Zoro with a vindictive smirk, “You really think I’d waste the good stuff on someone with the palette of a forest slug?”

“Oh! I want the eggs! And can you make the sausages you made the other day, Sanji? Those were the best!” Luffy bounces out of the room with a bright smile as Sanji chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but you’ll have to wait a bit for those!” he calls down the hallway after Luffy’s rapidly retreating form.

You glance from Zoro to Sanji and back again, your stomach a mess of knots, your heart skidding strangely inside your chest.

Sanji slates you a helpless look and a lopsided smile, “C’mon then — can’t miss breakfast. Most important meal of the day!”

Introductions, as they are, take the better part of the morning. Though by noon, you’re still unsure if you’d stepped into some strange alternate universe where you’d miraculously escaped the dark tangles of your past, and into some idyllic, sun-lit story full of great friends and endless adventures.

“Mm, that’s a pretty name, but I still think Ms. Ninety-Nine is cooler,” Luffy says, when you finally tell them your name — the one that had been yours for your whole life before you’d been forced to become someone — no, something else.

“It’s Ms. Double — nevermind,” you sigh, shaking your head, feeling an incredulous laugh bubble out of your chest.

“So… you trying to leave Baroque Works?” Sanji asks, casually adjusting his fishing lines as Nami pours over a hand-drawn map of the East Blue, a pair of tiny glasses perched on her nose. Of all the members of the Strawhat Crew, she’d been the least overtly welcoming, staying quiet and keeping her distance.

And, judging by hardness that lies just on the other edge of her smile, you can’t blame her. She knows a liar when she sees one; you do too.

“Something like that,” you say, glancing away.

Zoro lounges against the main mast, his eyes closed.

“So! You must be a really good fighter!” Luffy says, tugging on his own fishing lines till Sanji nudges him away.

“I —” your voice catches and you look away, “I’m alright.”

“I heard that only the best fighters in Baroque Works get codenames with numbers,” Nami says without looking up, her tone casual. Her hand is steady as she traces a long line through the center of the map.

“It’s… a bit more complicated than that,” you say, your fingers twisting in your lap.

“Complicated how?” Nami asks, finally looking up, her gaze bright and hard and unrelenting.

You lick your lips, shrugging, “It’s just… you don’t have to be a great fighter to be… useful.”

And something about the way you say that makes everyone stiffen. By the main mast, Zoro shifts, peering open an eye to stare at you. But before he can say anything, Luffy jumps up, pulling hard at his fishing rod.

“Look! I think I caught something!”

That night, when they drop anchor, the ocean is still, and the summer air is almost too sweet. Luffy proposes a toast, to a new friend, he says, and Sanji has never turned down a toast to a pretty girl. Even Nami, who had been cautious all day, lured by the sweet tangerine wine and the tantalizing summer air, flashes you a small grin as she raises her glass.

You manage to choke down the wine passed the scream curdling at the back of your throat.

And then later, when the Millions come calling, no one notices the way you slip away, pulling all the fire towards you until you’re too far to be saved.

“Stay back!” you call, even as one of the Millions hauls you onto the deck of a smaller ship by the hair.

“Gum-Gum —“

“Wait,” Zoro places a hand on Luffy’s arm.

“Huh?”

Zoro frowns, pointing to a spot of white on the railings. Luffy stares down at it for a second before Sanji peers over his shoulder, reaching out to dab at the smear of white powder.

“It’s… rice flour.”

In the kitchen, they find a tray with a series of tiny wagashi mochi’s, simply made, but each perfectly shaped and dusted with a fine powder of sweet rice flour.

There’s a hastily scribbled note that just says — Thank you. I’m sorry.

— — —

It takes them the better part of a two weeks to track you down.

And when they do, it’s to an island of sand and trees and not much else.

“What… is this place?” Nami asks as they all hop onto the bleak little stretch of beach.

“It’s a holding ground,” a voice answers, rich and feminine. They all look up to see a tall figure, arms crossed, a cowboy hat perched atop her head. Her hair looks like it’s been cut with a slide-rule. She makes no move to attack, but Zoro still finds his thumb ticking at the hilt of his sword.

Beside him, Sanji looks conflicted at the thought of fighting such a beautiful woman.

“Miss All Sunday,” Nami says, her bo staff clicking clicking into place as she takes half a step forward.

The woman allows herself a grin, dipping the brim of her hat.

“Ara… if it isn’t the Cat Burglar.”

Nami scoffs, “Let’s cut the song and dance — we’re looking for a friend of ours. You might know her — goes by Miss Double-Nines, I think.”

“Friend?” Miss All Sunday lets the word simmer in the air between them, blithely checking her nails before pinning them all with a hard look, “we at Baroque Works aren’t known for making friends outside the organization.”

“Yeah well, maybe our friend’s just different!” offers Luffy, grinning widely, his chest puffed out.

Miss All Sunday regards them for a moment more before shrugging and slipping into the shadows of the giant tree she’d been leaning against. Zoro and Nami share a look before stepping forward to follow her, Luffy, Sanji, and Usopp half a step behind them.

The forest is a twist of ancient trees, their canopy high and thick enough to completely blot out the sun. Beneath the preternatural dark, the woods are spine-chillingly quiet. There’s no rustle of leaves, no hush of wings or skitter of claws. Nothing moves, save for their slinking guide and their own, weapon-laden bodies.

No one dares to speak; even Luffy keeps quiet, his mouth set in a straight line, his eyes tracking the lithe form of Miss All Sunday as she leads them through the undulating terrain.

“Ah… you’re in luck,” Miss All Sunday says, her voice a silken whisper as she stops in front of a massive tree, it’s roots as thick as the Merry’s main mast, it’s trunk so wide it’s impossible to see around. Miss All Sunday adjusts her hat, sweeping her hand through the air much as a hostess would when presenting a prize, “she’s awake.”

It’s you, or at least the shape of you, caught in the massive tangle of tree roots, your arms held to your sides, your body half-swallowed by the trunk of the tree itself. Your lashes flutter open at the sound of Miss All Sunday’s voice, and when your gaze finally lands on them, it goes wide —

“W-what —”

“We’ve come to rescue you!” Luffy says, grinning even as he revs up his arm.

The cigarette dangling from Sanji’s lips falls he leans back to inspect the grotesque sight before him.

It’s Nami who catches Zoro with an arm around the waist, tugging him back to relative difficulty. It’s only then that Zoro realizes how hard he’s breathing, how there’s red seeping like spilt blood into the edges of his vision.

“I — I told you not to follow me!” you say, your voice cracking over the words, your skin nearly translucent as it strains over your ribs.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Yeah well — we never said we’d listen.”

You drop your head, your throat bobbing around a mirthless laugh.

Everyone jumps at the sound of clapping, loud and slow and measured. A moment later, a man in a fur-lined coat with a thick set of stitches across his face steps out from behind the massive tree, a cigar caught between his teeth, a steely glint to his eyes.

“Well done, well done — if it isn’t the infamous Strawhat Pirates,” the man says, crossing his arms and taking a long puff of the cigar.

Luffy takes a step forward, “We are just here for our friend!”

“Your friend?” the man says, an eerie smile splitting his lips as he takes the cigar between two fingers and glances towards you, “you didn’t tell me you’d made new friends, Miss Double Nines?”

You wince at his words, twisting your head as he blows a stream of smoke at your face.

Zoro jerks forward, only to be caught again — this time by Sanji and Nami both.

“Ah, but this is wonderful! We should give your new friends a proper welcome, no?” the man opens his palms, laughing heartily before the forest around them shudders. And then, everything beneath them turns to sand.

It is not a long fight, and Zoro only remembers it in faint flashes — the base rumble of the earth shifting beneath them, the sky-splitting crack of tree trunks as the forest around them roils and breaks. Through it all, he remembers the sound of your voice, calling out something before it’s muffled by a pair of too-large hands —

And it isn’t till he finds himself standing on the thin stretch of beach with the rest of his crew that his mind returns to him, jarred and unsettled, but lucid.

The man with stitches across his face grins, your body caught beneath his arm like a rag doll. He laughs as he tosses you down onto the sand at this feet.

Both Zoro and Sanji charge forward, only to stop in their steps as the man cocks a gun and levels it at the back of your head. He grins, tilting his head.

“Go on,” he says, “she’s right there, isn’t she?”

Sanji crouches down, his eyes narrowed. Zoro’s jaw clenches as he adjusts his hold on his swords.

You shake your head, your hair a dark spill around your shoulders, peppered with sand as you push yourself up onto hands and knees, your gaze imploring as you look up at them.

“Don’t.”

Zoro feels something inside him snap at the broken register of your voice.

He charges forward just as the man reaches down to grab a fistful of your hair and tug you backwards, pressing the muzzle of the pistol to the side of your head.

“Let her go, and I might let you live,” he snarls between gritted teeth.

The man grins, savage and unbothered, shaking you like a marionette on tender strings. You let out a soft groan as he digs the gun further into your temple.

“Ah… I’m not sure I like being threatened on my own turf,” the man says, his voice soft as he trails the gun along your face down to your throat before pressing it the soft spot just beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut.

“Wait —!” Zoro’s voice cracks like a gunshot over the word, desperation wriggling it’s way up his throat till it’s spilling out of his mouth.

The man’s eyes go dark at the sound, his mouth splits wide on a savage grin as he trails the gun back up to your temple, caressing the trigger with almost lethargic ease, clicks down the safety — and shoots.

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