#not to mention she would probably burn the country down

[kcuf-ad]

Look I get that people want Mereoleona to be the Wizard King/Queen, but it has been stated several times in canon and by Tabata that she does not want to.

She despises politics and being the Wizard King is basically being ready for politics on top of being the strongest. Why do you think Julius goes around goofing around and Marx basically has to drag his ass to the office?

[dark-fics-4-you]

Crying in the Country Club ch. V

dark!Rafe Cameron x dark!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lying about birth control, baby trapping, mention of previous attempted assault, public sex, infidelity, manipulative and aggressive behavior, breeding kink, slight burn injury

Stepping out onto the Cameron’s back patio, you were pleased to find that the forecast was spot on. It was definitely warm enough to go swimming.

Your gaze settled on the glimmering pool, before looking around the backyard to spot Mr. Cameron.

Your mom and Rebecca were sitting on the porch swing, seemingly engrossed in conversation, but you didn’t miss the way Rebecca subtly gave your body a once over before nervously glancing over at her husband.

Nearing Rafe and your dad by the grill, you paused to ask what was on the menu for tonight.

You grinned sweetly at Rafe, enjoying watching his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed after taking you in.

Not wanting to waste an opportunity to get him flustered, you had chosen one of your more revealing swimsuits, a strappy dark teal green bikini paired with a teal blue wrap skirt that left little to the imagination.

“Just some burgers and hot dogs, Y/N,” your dad answered with a smile, not noticing his best friend beside him clenching his jaw tighter than before.

“Cool! Um, can I have a burger, with cheese?” You asked.

“You got it,” he answered. “But it’ll probably be about half an hour before we start cooking.”

“Okay!”

As you walked past them towards the pool, you unsuccessfully tried to stop yourself from glancing back to sneak another peak of Mr. Cameron, and you felt your heart skip a beat when you caught him staring at you as you left.

Your cheeks were flushed when you reached the chair where Charlie was lounging, and she raised a curious eyebrow when you greeted her.

“Are you getting burnt already?”

“No,” you laughed, reaching to your waist to peel off your wrap skirt. “But I could use a little sunscreen.”

Charlie grabbed the bottle beside her and passed it to you.

You thanked her as you poured some into your hands to start spreading onto your face. After making sure it was all rubbed in, you squirted more into your hands to massage into your chest and shoulders.

Tossing a glance over your shoulder, you were unsurprised to see Rafe staring again, and you made a little show of rubbing the oily lotion across your cleavage as you pretended not to notice him.

It had only been a week since you had snuck into his room after the party and it had been nearly impossible to stay away from Mr. Cameron.

Your waking hours had been possessed by daydreaming about Rafe. Imagining him catching you in the house, pining you to the wall with a large hand clamped over your mouth and fucking you while you had to stay quiet to avoid being caught was a frequent fantasy of yours, one that you really hoped he would act out on you.

But your imagination stretched further than just that. You couldn’t help but insert yourself into scenes of domesticity with him. You liked picturing the two of you in the cameron household together. Rafe would praise you for cooking dinner, wrapping his arms around you, before a protective hand settled on your swollen belly.

Ever since the party, you had felt more determined than ever to have his child.

You knew that he was off limits on so many levels, he was your father’s best friend and your best friend’s dad (not to mention he was married and more than twice your age), but deep down you knew that the depravity of it all was exactly what drew you to Rafe in the first place.

Although, it wasn’t like Charlie had been the best friend to you recently. You were still somewhat pissed off that she had let you stay out at that party where you had been attacked alone.

You shuddered thinking about what might have happened if Mr. Cameron hadn’t arrived in time to save you.

As quickly as the thought arose, you buried it, not wanting to get caught up thinking about what had happened at the party.

What had happened after the party was of much more interest to you.

You could still remember how amazing it felt to come undone around him and how desperately he had kissed you that night. Goosebumps erupted across your skin when you recalled how Rafe had sounded groaning your name as you squeezed around him.

God you wished that he had finished inside of you; although you couldn’t deny how hot it was to be covered in his seed.

A heat was rising inside of you, and you knew that it wasn’t just from the hot Carolina sun.

Throwing another glance towards the porch, you could see your dad and Mr. Cameron beginning to grill the burgers and hot dogs, while your mom and Mrs. Cameron were still chatting on the swing.

Pressing the back of your hand to your forehead, you could feel the sweat beginning to form and you knew it was time to cool off.

Leaving your wrap skirt behind, you left the pool to approach the house, watching Rafe as you got closer.

His jaw clenched when he spotted you, interrupting his sentence midway as he lost his train of thought.

Your dad turned to see what had distracted Rafe, shooting you a confused and questioning look.

“I’m getting really hot,” you explained, not missing the way Rafe’s hungry gaze had swept over your body. “Do you have any ice cream?”

Your question was aimed at Rafe, who you innocently smiled at, and you felt triumphant when he stumbled over his words.

“Um y-yeah, Y/N, there’s some um.” He paused, trying to collect himself in front of your father without drawing any suspicion. “Some popsicles in the… um in the freezer.”

“Oh, that’s perfect, thanks!” You grinned before continuing to the back door.

Rafe stared at you, watching the way your ass moved when you walked. His mouth was watering, jaw clenched so tight it was amazing it didn’t snap off. He was so distracted, he wasn’t looking when his arm got a little too close to the grill.

Inside the kitchen, you walked up to their large fridge, opening the freezer section before looking around for the popsicles Rafe had mentioned.

You grabbed a cherry flavored one out of the bag and took off its wrapper before sliding it between your lips.

The sweet, refreshing treat hit the spot, beginning to cool you down instantly.

You heard the door open and you turned to see who had followed you inside, not surprised to see Rafe.

But you weren’t expecting him to rush to the sink to run cold water over a fresh, red burn right below his elbow.

“Shit-!” He cursed, exhaling lowly as the cool water soothed the burn. You could tell it wasn’t too bad of an injury.

“You can’t be pulling shit like that in front of me, kid,” Rafe scolded you. “Especially not when your dad is standing right next to me, fuck!”

He finally turned to look at you, and his breath hitched as he watched you suggestively slide the popsicle across your lips, staining them red with the melting juices.

“You hurt yourself?” You asked with wide concerned eyes.

Rafe’s jaw clenched before he licked his lips, staring down at you with an obvious mixture of annoyance and arousal.

“How did that happen?” You lightly teased, reaching a hand out to touch his unburned arm. You slid your fingers over his muscles as you drew closer, sucking on the cherry popsicle as you stared up at him through your lashes.

Your heart was racing, you were just so excited to finally be alone with him again.

“It was your fucking fault, Y/N-” he snapped, grabbing your wrist with a tight grip before suddenly stopping himself and releasing you.

You were surprised by the force behind his grip, but Rafe had let you go before you could even protest, and he stared down at you as he breathed heavily. You could tell he was trying to hold himself back by the veins that bulged near his temples and in his neck.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but you’re not making it any easier for me when you walk around my place wearing…” he trailed off as he gestured at your bikini. “It’s distracting.”

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Cameron,” you purred, noticing his eye twitch when you called him ‘Mr. Cameron.’

“Are you trying to get us caught?”

You rolled your eyes, but he continued.

“Y/D/N would fucking kill me if he had any idea of what we did-”

“I know, I know,” you frowned, not liking feeling like Rafe was chiding you like a kid.

He noticed the change in your tone of voice, letting out a sigh before wrapping his good arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His fingertips danced over your exposed skin and you leaned your head against his chest, thrilled to have such close contact with him.

“I’m just saying, we need to be careful. There’s no need for anyone to know what happened. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

You gave yourself a once over in the mirror before leaving, feeling confident in your pale pink mini skirt and matching polo sweater.

Walking through the living room, you let your parent’s know you were going golfing with Rafe before you ducked into the garage to grab your clubs.

After a short drive, you parked in the Cameron’s driveway, waving at Rafe as you got out of your car.

He was leaning against his golf cart waiting for you when you walked out, and he offered to take the heavy bag from you to load it into the back.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, sweetheart.” He looked you up and down again, clearly pleased with your outfit choice. “You look very nice.”

You beamed as you climbed into the passenger seat, scooting closer to Rafe as he backed out of the driveway and started heading for the course.

Looking out at the greens as you approached, you noticed how few players were out today. It must have been because of how hot it was.

You fanned yourself with your hand as Rafe pulled up to the first hole and parked under some trees.

After stepping out of the golf cart, you grabbed your driver out of your bag, thanking Mr. Cameron when he handed you a tee and a ball before stepping onto the green.

“Let’s see if you’ve improved anymore since we last played, huh?” Rafe teased with a grin. “Have you been practicing?”

“Yes sir,” you replied playfully. You bent down to place your tee into the ground and set up the ball, hoping that Rafe would get a peek of your white panties under your skirt.

“Remember what I told you la-” his voice caught in his throat as he caught a glimpse of your underwear.

“What’s that?” You asked him sweetly, correcting your posture so you could turn and meet his eyes with an innocent smile.

“Um-” Rafe paused, his adam’s apple bobbing as he dryly swallowed. “Here, turn around again.”

You followed his instructions, turning your back to him as he pressed closer to adjust your form.

“You gotta keep your legs just a bit further apart, kid.” Rafe reached a hand down to your thigh, pressing gently on your exposed skin just below your skirt to urge you to spread your legs.

“Yeah, you want to have good balance,” his deep voice from behind and his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and goosebumps rose where he had brushed your upper thigh.

“And then you need to lean back just a little bit.”

His hands found your hips, pulling you back towards him, and you let out a quiet moan when you felt him press his hard on against your ass.

“Make sure you’re gripping the club the right way, sweetheart,” his voice strained as he ground his hard on against your core.

Your brain was getting fuzzy and you could feel a wet patch on your panties getting damper. You fumbled with the golf club, trying to get a better grip on it because your palms were beginning to feel so sweaty.

Finally, you managed to swing and hit the ball, but Rafe didn’t even wait to see where it went, easily scooping you up into his arms and rushing to carry you back to the golf cart, pressing hot kisses into your neck the entire way.

He put you down onto the seat but you surprised him when you moved to the floor of the cart on your knees in between his legs.

You palmed his cock through his shorts and he groaned, eagerly reaching for his button and zipper.

Rafe freed his erection from his boxers and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

The night you had snuck into his room, you had been so desperate to feel him inside of you that you hadn’t had the chance to stop and really look at him.

You reached out, wrapping your hand around the base of his length. His dick was probably around 8 inches, maybe more, and girthy, with a long vein bulging out and leading to his cut tip.

He was breathing heavily, eyes widening when you pursed your lips, letting a string of saliva drip onto his hard cock before meeting his eyes again.

Rafe watched as you slowly stroked him, once, twice, and then a third time.

You licked your lips before parting them and your hot tongue met his tip, licking off the bead of precum that had gathered there. He tasted salty and he let out a moan as he watched your eyes roll back in your head from the taste.

As your soft lips wrapped around him, the older man’s hand tangled into your hair, pushing you down to take more of him as his hips shifted upwards. You pressed your tongue flat against the bottom of your mouth, stretching your lips to accommodate his size.

“There you go, Y/N. Fuck, that’s a good girl,” his grip on your hair tightened the deeper he inched forward, and you looked up at him through your lashes as your eyes began to water.

When he hit the back of your throat, you gagged, choking on his length when he held you in place for a few moments.

You looked up at him with wide, surprised teary eyes, and Rafe couldn’t hold back his groan.

“You can take it.” His gruff voice only stirred your need to prove yourself to him, and the hot tears that you blinked away barely registered in your mind.

When he finally released you, he slid his cock out enough for you to take a breath before he pushed himself in again, even deeper than the last time.

“God, you’re doing so good f’me angel,” he groaned, and you squeezed your thighs together when you felt yourself grow slicker from his praise.

Tears kissed your waterline as his fingers threaded through your hair. Your core practically pulsed with want and you brought your free hand between your legs, teasing your clit over your soaked panties as you continued bobbing your head up and down the length of his cock.

Spit collected at the corner of your lips, dribbling down your chin as Rafe’s hand guided you faster.

Unable to ignore the burning desire between your legs anymore, you pulled away, climbing onto his lap and sloppily kissing him before he could ask what you were doing.

Rafe kissed you back, his large hands coming to your hips and held you in place so he could grind against your core.

He groaned into the kiss, but pulled back with a disappointed look on his face, and your heart started to sink before he spoke.

“We don’t have condoms-“ he started but you cut him off.

“I’m on birth control.”

The lie slipped out easier than you expected, but you weren’t entirely sure if Rafe would believe you. Or if he would insist you use a condom anyway.

For a few heart pounding moments he just stared at you with a strange look before finally breaking into a cocky grin.

“Shit, you should have told me that last week sweetheart,” Rafe growled, already reaching his hand beneath your skirt to pull your panties to the side.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you couldn’t linger on them for long because Rafe’s hands were on your hips, lining himself up with your slick entrance and slowly pushing you down onto his cock.

The sharp gasp that fell past your lips was quickly muffled when the older man’s hand clamped over your mouth. You whimpered against him as he filled you up, enjoying the way he stretched you out from this angle.

Trying to ground yourself, you slid your arm above his shoulder and around the back of his neck. When he bottomed out and held you in place, fingers gripping your hips so hard it almost hurt, you squirmed in his lap, desperately needing some kind of friction.

“Squeezin’ me so tight-" he groaned through gritted teeth.

He withdrew his hand from your mouth, trailing it to your hips before crawling under your shirt and grasping at your waist. Trails of hot fire danced on your skin where he touched you, and you felt almost delirious with want.

Your pleading eyes met his as you tried to grind your hips against him, and you felt him pulse inside you at the sound of your quieted whimpers.

Rafe kept his eyes locked on yours as his hips started to move, finally giving you the stimulation that you so badly needed.

You met each stroke with the tilt of your hips as he thrusted deep inside you, cheeks burning as you felt yourself dripping around him.

His lips found yours again and when his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, you moaned against the kiss, clenching tight around his length as he snapped his hips against yours.

Rafe broke the kiss, letting his lips meet your neck before mumbling against your skin, “Gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to stop your whimpers and soft cries of pleasure. Rafe’s hands had left your waist and were now creeping under your skirt to grasp at your thighs, fingertips digging into your soft flesh.

His lips were still attached to your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender skin as your hips met his every thrust.

In the back of your mind, you knew that you probably should have been more worried about getting caught, but the feeling of Rafe’s cock dragging along your snug walls made you forget all of your worries.

He slid one hand between your legs, thumb circling around your clit.

Your moan was smothered by his lips, and you eagerly bucked your hips into his touch as he picked up his pace.

Looking into his eyes, you could help but feel your heart skip a beat. You felt like you were being seen for the first time, and you couldn’t stop the strong surge of emotions that rose in your chest.

You had been trying to ignore what you thought could have been just irrational feelings for years, but now you couldn’t help but feel that they hadn’t been so irrational after all.

With every push of his cock, you felt more and more sure that Rafe was finally starting to see you the way you saw him.

Rafe Cameron was more than a passing crush to you, and you had never intended to just be an affair to him.

You loved him so deeply that at times it scared you how far you were willing to go to make him yours.

“I haven’t been able to get you off my mind all week,” he groaned, thumb pressing harder against your clit as his hips snapped against yours.

Your pulse skipped a beat at his confession and you wondered if sex had been the only thing he had been thinking about or if he wanted more.

The heat building between your legs was undeniable now, and the sudden thought of Rafe finally coming inside you made you clench down around him.

“You feel s-so good,” you whispered, eyes rolling back in your head when he hit a spot deep inside you; and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each stroke of his cock.

You gripped his back as the pad of his thumb swirled around your clit and you tilted your head up to kiss him again.

Rafe pushed his tongue past your lips, tasting the inside of your mouth and the pressure building between your legs finally became too much.

You squirmed in his arms as you came around him, but Rafe never slowed his tempo, holding you in place as you pulsed around him, squeezing his cock as your orgasm washed over you.

The older man tightened his grip on your hips, thrusting harder and harder until his hips finally stuttered and he spilled his hot sticky seed deep inside you with a low groan.

Feeling Rafe cum inside you for the first time was enough to send you over the edge a second time and you tensed in his lap as you came around him again.

Trying to catch your breath was a challenge and you didn’t want to get off of his lap, but Rafe lifted you up, pulling your soaked panties back into place before sitting you down next to him in the cart as he tucked himself back into his shorts.

He looked around the course for a moment, and then he met your gaze, reaching a hand up to stroke your cheek as your heart beat loudly in your chest.

“C’mon kid, we got a round of golf to finish,” he smirked.

[klemen-tine]

Glass Bones and Paper Skin

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

More Platonic Bruce x Reader than Batfam, but they are mentioned and will have a bigger role in the future.

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect

Just a reminder for everyone, your bodies are perfect and beautiful! Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

Part 2

Part 3

Blinding lights and hundreds of eyes are enough to thwart people from the runway. It makes people stumble, trip, or even run from it. Their mind focuses on if they mess up, the world will see. Their managers, agencies, everyone will forever refer to it when they ask them to walk for them again. 

They focus on their walk, the way the clothing either hugs or drapes off their bodies, how the shoes don’t fit, the way their hair is styled, and how the makeup can burn. They try not to focus on how their stomachs ache, how the heels cut into the thin skin on their feet, and that everyone in this room that is dressed and prepped, are equally or more or less beautiful than them. 

Y/N L/N seemed to be the topic of conversation at all of these events. A newer runway model who has been eating it up. From their first runway debut to this one, they have always left people in awe and dropping to their knees for more. It is hard to believe that they are only 18. Y/N has been a photoshoot model since 15, but on their birthday when they turned 18, they finally agreed to their agency’s desire to make them take on the runway. 

It was the best choice for their career. Y/N’s manager was the daughter of their mother’s manager, back when she was alive and used to do modeling. Her manager threw her own daughter at Y/N, and stated that they were the best people to work with because they know Y/N. Whether Y/N was cursed or not –they have yet to figure that out– has nearly the same exact features as their mother and the same ‘air.’ One that demanded everyone to pay attention to them, and is a natural for posing and had a natural strut. 

They’ve been right, and Y/N doesn’t know if it is because of them that they all made it this far. They knew what looked best on Y/N and what wouldn’t work. They knew which designers would adore them and which designers wouldn’t fit. 

Those who know Y/N though understand that the ‘air’ was only on the runways and photoshoots. Y/N is actually a very demure person, while not a wallflower, they were someone who could blend in the crowd. 

Alfred once told them that every country should be grateful to not have Y/N working against them, because Y/N can just disappear. 

“Y/N, are you ready?” They smiled at their fellow models, slipping into the person of Y/N L/N, child of M/N L/N and Bruce Wayne, and nodding, “Of course. When am I not?” 

Cheryl whistled, a fellow model that has been Y/N’s mentor in some way, walking around Y/N and smiling, “Designers sure know how to dress you up. I think almost every runway walk has had your hips on display” Y/N chuckled at her, “It’s because of these hips dips. You can probably drink soup out of them.” 

“If it was ice cream I’d be down, but not soup.” Jon was another model who has been in the scene for a long time. He was a handsome man with a diamond face. 

“Models get ready.” A shuffling of feet and high heels clip clopping sounded in the backstage, and Y/N took their place in front of everyone. They will be the one opening the show today, an honor that the 18-year-old took gratefully. 

Opening a show was a big deal, setting the tone for the show in general and also the tempo. Y/N took a deep breath, and at the cue, their mind went blank as they began walking. Their eyes focused on the end camera, and the walk on beat to the music. Once at the end, they looked directly into the camera and struck a pose. Highlighting the slit hips and underboob design, showing off the almost sheer fabric that had the slightest hint of shimmer in them. A statement piece. 

Turning around they walked back to where they emerged from, making sure they kept their face in control for the last camera. However, a sight at the corner of their eye momentarily broke them out of their blank space. Five familiar people that should not be here. Sitting in the front row, wearing nice tuxedos, and almost making Y/N stumble. 

Almost. Controlling their features, Y/N returned their focus to the camera and disappeared in the entrance they emerged from. Smiling at all the 'congratulations’ ‘you looked great,’ ‘you look beautiful,’ they went back to their manager, Maya, and whispered, “I need you to confirm five people in the front row on the left side. They are four chairs down from the camera.”

Maya nodded, scurrying away and without a doubt checking it out. Y/N could feel the curiosity and dread build in their stomach. If they are who Y/N thinks they are, then the after party is going to be interesting. 

“What’s wrong?” Jon wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, bringing Y/N out their thoughts, “Nothing really. Just thought I saw some familiar faces.” Jon made a weird face, but dropped the issue when another model, Logan, strolled on over. 

“Did you see them?” 

“See who?” 

“The Wayne family! They are in the front row!” Y/N closed their eyes in misery and a headache began forming. They saw Maya running back, her face pale and a large frown on her face. Jon glanced at Y/N, taking in the annoyed expression and scrunched nose, “Hmm, no I didn’t. I was too focused on looking at the camera, Logan.” She rolled her eyes, “Oh, it was only a second.”

Jon and Y/N gave each other a dry look, remembering the last time Logan had said that and somehow the camera managed to snap a photo when she was oggling at someone. Y/N shook their head, “I momentarily saw them, but I didn’t think it was them. Do you think I can get the oldest son’s number?” 

‘You’re not his type.’  Y/N thought but didn’t say, shrugging and smiling in amusement, “Logan, what would your girlfriend say?” The model stuck her tongue, “She’d ask to join.” Before Logan could say anything else, Cheryl waltzed over, “Stop being inappropriate, there’s a kid present.” 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry, if you can’t drink yet you can’t have this conversation.” Y/N made a face, “That’s the stupidest sense of logic I have ever heard.” Everyone laughed at them, clapping Y/N’s shoulders and helping each other fix their wardrobes. Some stylists came over to fix their makeup and hair just in case. Everyone was getting ready for the last walkthrough, and honestly, Y/N was dreading it. 

As the front runner of it all, Y/N’s face will be seen by the now confirmed Wayne family and Y/N isn’t confident in themselves enough to not make a face. 

The show will be closing soon and then there is the afterparty that all models are expected to attend. It's a networking place, where other designers, brand ambassadors, and just people who are rich enough to get a ticket can talk to the models and try and recruit them. Its a place and time to mingle for those who have an open schedule and unfortunately, Y/N has an open fucking schedule. 

This was their last show in Paris, and then they have one destination and then it will be done. Runway season will be officially over and then it will be smaller gigs and back to the every now and then runway. 

“Models get ready!” Y/N took a deep breath and fixed their face, eyes forward and chin up. 

‘I’ll call Alfred when I get home.’ 

+++

‘I want to go home.’ Y/N nursed the drink in the flute, filled with sparkling cider instead of champagne. They stood off to the side, changed out of the clothes they wore on the runway, and instead in a deep-v top and leather pants. Still dressed to impress, but at the moment they just wanted to curl up and go away. Y/N’s hotel room has a bathtub in it and Y/N really wants to just sit down in hot water and relax. 

Y/N was constantly scanning the crowd, moving further against the wall whenever they saw black hair and blue eyes. 

Maya said one more hour, then it will be acceptable to leave. She was doing all  the talking and networking for Y/N, trusting that when it came to meet the designers Y/N will charm them enough to want to have them keep coming back. Sighing once more, Y/N took a longer sip and wished to be home. 

Something moved the hair near their ear, and Y/N almost threw their glass at whoever it was until they caught sight of blue eyes and black hair, staring at and analyzing them. 

“Tim…” 

“Hello, Y/N.” Y/N gave a practiced and polite smile, “Odd to see you here.” Tim shrugged, “Seeing that the designer is friends with Bruce, and told us of your show and that you will be leading the walk, of course we had to come.” Y/N nodded, “In Paris?” 

“Where else? You’re next one is in New York right?” Y/N gave a polite chuckle, “Since when did you pay attention to fashion week?” Tim took a sip of champagne, “Since my younger sibling decided to run off and become a model.” 

Y/N took a sip of the sparkling cider, not missing the way Tim was eyeing them with interest and curiosity. They smiled against the rim of the flute, “ ‘Run off’ huh. I don’t think those are the words I would use. I never hid it and I didn’t pack my bags in the middle of the night and sneak through a window.” Y/N set the empty flute down, still smiling politely at Tim who was still watching them, “I simply walked out the front door and no one stopped me.” 

“Y/N–” 

“Y/N! There you are!” A tall woman, hair dyed a shade-off from white gray and wearing the crispest red suit, strolled over. Y/N gave a larger smile, opening their arms and welcoming the hug, “Ms. Gabbana, you look lovely as always.” The woman laughed, “That’s the botox. Anyways, you looked so amazing opening the show!” 

Tim was quickly forgotten as Francesca Gabbana, an Italian high-end fashion designer and luxury brand owner, chatted away with Y/N. Her presence called forth other designers and models and soon enough, Y/N was entrapped in a small group talking about the next runway show next week. 

They talked about the dreaded flight to New York, and where they will be staying. It will be Francesca’s show next week, along with some other high end designers. Francesca seemed particularly excited for Y/N’s, and when Y/N first saw the design, they had to hold back the shivers.

“Right, Y/N you’re from Gotham aren’t you? Will you be visiting your family?” With the attention all on Y/N, they smiled tightly and shrugged, “We’ll see. They are always so busy so I think it's best if I don-” 

“I hope Y/N visits, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.” A large hand clapped Y/N’s shoulder, and from the facial expression everyone was making, Y/N knows who it was. Peeking up through their lashes, Y/N could see Bruce’s smile on his still handsome face. 

Cheryl was the first to recover, her eyes narrowing slightly, “How… how do you know each other?” Y/N glanced at Bruce, who right now is Brucie, and before he could say anything Bruce gasped, “Y/N, you haven’t said anything?” The young adult shrugged, “It never came up. Bruce Wayne is my father.”

The room erupted, and Y/N actually wanted to go die in a hole. What proceeded afterwards was the most intense questioning for the next two hours. 

++++

“Bruce, why are you here?” Y/N asked over dinner. He tossed the crouton around in his salad, waiting for his father’s response. They have never had a 1 on 1 meal together. It was alway family meals, and even then Y/N rarely showed up for those. There was no need too. They never noticed when Y/N was there or not. 

The Billionaire playboy shrugged, “Is it wrong to see my child open a highly sought after show?” Y/N chuckled, “No, but you have never shown any interest in this before.” Y/N never hid his modeling gigs. Often using the family weight room to keep in shape and also turned one of the unused offices into a strut practice room when Y/N lived in the manor. Hours and the amount of money spent to ensure their skin was perfect and their hair was nice, and that they looked beautiful. 

Y/N never hid their modeling job, even as a teen, and yet the only one who seemed to notice was Alfred. 

“You never said anything.” 

“I didn’t think I had too.” Y/N can recall trying to show Bruce, Dick, Jason, anyone that would bother to look, a photo of them making it onto Vogue. Not the cover, not yet, but as a newer model within the prestigious magazine. They made it at 16. 16, and only modeling for a year! Francessca had them in a piece that was first page worthy, and it fit Y/N like it was meant for them. 

Alfred was the only person to look at the magazine Y/N held open with their trembling hands, and ruffle their hair and congratulate them. 

“You didn’t even tell Alfred where you are living.” No, because Y/N doesn’t want Alfred showing up unexpectedly and seeing the almost empty fridge. The thought of the older man’s disappointed look and inquisitive questions would have Y/N breaking down crying. 

“Hmmm, I’m always moving around so I didn’t want him showing up when I am not there.” Bruce nodded, taking a bite of his lobster, and watching Y/N take a small bite of the salad. Y/N swallowed with great difficulty, “Bruce-” 

“Since when does a child call their parents by their first name?” Y/N sucked their teeth, “The only one who calls you ‘father’ is Damian.” 

“You used to.” Y/N shrugged, “You never seemed comfortable with me calling you that.” Bruce rarely answered when Y/N called him ‘dad’ or ‘father,’ and yet he alway responded when someone else called for him.  Y/N would watch from afar as Bruce came running to them in need, but when Y/N needed help they had to figure it out on their own. 

At some point Y/N stopped calling for Bruce entirely, running and calling only to Alfred.

Y/N is not mad about it. They never were. Dull E/C eyes accepted it and pushed forward, watching the explosive fights, the angry words, and the silent apologies. Alfred’s words affirming that they all loved each other, despite everything saying otherwise. Y/N watched, and continued to watch as they focused on themselves when Y/N began making a name for themself. 

They’re not mad. Y/N never was. Hurt? Maybe, but not mad. That is just their hand in life. Besides, it made the modeling career easier. No need to worry about missing any events, Y/N wouldn’t be invited even if they had lived there. Holidays weren’t huge, nor were birthdays. The only one Y/N sent a card to was Alfred. 

It made traveling easier. There was no such thing as homesickness. It made taking more gigs easier, more destructive behavior easier to handle. 

“Y/N,” Bruce called to him and Y/N paused while eating. Raising an eyebrow in question as Bruce set down his own eating utensils. Ocean blue met E/C, and Y/N tried to place the emotion in those blue eyes. 

“For what it is worth, I… I am sorry about the neglect you have faced within our home.” Y/N’s mind stopped functioning and they stared at Bruce in shock. The man either ignoring him or not realizing that Y/N was staring at him continued. 

“You… you didn’t deserve that, especially when you were grieving and that fact that I could not see that shows my fail–” 

“Wait wait wait!” Y/N held their hands up, cutting off Bruce, “What are you talking about?” Bruce stared at Y/N with questions in his eyes, and blinked in shock when he saw the genuine confusion in his child’s eyes. Y/N looked floored, “Bruce… I-I… what?”

Bruce knows he’s not a good parent. He is intimately aware of his failings and shortcomings, and how some of them haunt him. They claw into his skin, his mind, and chest as a reminder of all the times he has failed his children. He and Dick barely started talking, Jason and him are slowly mending that bridge, and Tim and Damian seem to hate each other and Bruce doesn’t know what to do about that. It seems the only children he hasn’t officially fucked over are those that aren’t even his. 

Then there’s Y/N. A child of his genetic makeup, just like Damian, only Y/N’s mother was a model Bruce had treated as a hookup whenever she was on the east coast. Y/N was 13 when they came into Bruce’s care, older than Damian and a few years younger than Tim. Their mother was caught in a drug-use scandal, one that cost her her career and then her life. Her choice left behind a traumatized child, walking in on the body as she decomposed in their bathroom. They had been forced to pack up their bags and move across the country to live with a parent that they only heard about once or twice. 

Bruce somewhat knew of Y/N. He knew that Y/N’s mother had been pregnant, but when he asked if she wanted child support, the woman huffed and said ‘no thank you.’ Her income was enough, as a high in demand supermodel, and she didn’t need Bruce’s ‘pity’ money. 

So, he never sought after her and she never phoned him. 

Until CPS called and told him of the news and the now homeless 13-year-old child he was now in charge of. 

Y/N and him never really connected, and Bruce wonders if some of that is his own fault. He was always too busy with Batman, then his drama with Dick, and Jason’s whole dying thing, the persona of Brucie Wayne, then there was Tim, then Jason coming back from the dead thing, then Barbara’s whole Joker incident, then Damian…. 

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t too busy, he just never made time for Y/N. Which, the other never seemed to complain about. If they did complain to Alfred, the butler never said anything, and neither did their brothers. Y/N was just a ghost living in the manor that showed up for meals because it was expected, and then… left. 

Now he sits here, across from his child who doesn’t seem to understand the wrong done to them by not only Bruce, but the rest of the family. 

“Where did this come from?” Bruce doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it was because of Alfred that Bruce and the family finally realized what was wrong. The tour of Y/N’s old room, still kept clean due to Alfred’s insistence, but instead of clothes on the ground and signs of life within the room, it had photos of Y/N's past modeling gigs. Hundreds of photos, some framed, some not, as they covered the walls. Magazines that had Y/N on the front cover, magazine pages that had Y/N taking up the entire page.

The tour of the room-turned-practice room. Full of mirrors, and a 4 inch wide ply board used to practice walking. The shoes that were hidden in the closet, some too big and some too small. Blood staining the heel area of most of them as the image of Y/N practicing until and through the blisters filled all their heads. 

The meal regime, still written hastily down on the post it notes, and the exercise routine that didn’t match the calorie intake. The broken mirrors in Y/N’s closets and the clothes that now looked like they would be too big on the present-day Y/N that is sitting in front of Bruce.

The written blogs, printed and folded in one of their drawers, relating them back to their mother. Accusing them of the same thing they accused M/N. Highlighting Y/N’s faults, Y/N’s mistakes, Y/N’s features, and Y/N’s heritage. 

‘Child of drug-abuser model M/N L/N, Y/N L/N using the same drug?’ A 15-year-old Y/N posed in a way to show their figure was the picture that was used. 

‘Child of famous model M/N L/N able to hold up to the heat?’ Another photo of a 16-year-old Y/N looking exhausted as they walked out of a building. Eyes red and bags under their eyes. 

‘Beauty genes skipped a generation.’ Y/N is 17 in that photo. 

‘Y/N M/N will never be as beautiful as M/N L/N without extensive work.’  Y/N is 15 again in this photo. They had kept every critique, every mean and poorly written article about them, and kept them. Some of them were tweets, printed instagram photos, and magazines. 

Bruce could see the drastic changes in Y/N throughout the photos. The strict lifestyle changes affected their appearance and made them look even more like M/N. The Y/N in front of him, still beautiful, but Bruce knows the thoughts behind the perfect skin and perfect hair. 

It would seem that one of the things Y/N inherited from Bruce would be the internalizing of every little bad thing to happen, and deny that it has affected them while they wore the scar of it on their sleeves. 

“Bruce, you didn’t neglect me. I had food, clothes, a manor… where did you get all of that from?” 

“Emotional neglect is still neglect.” Y/N still looked confused, setting their fork down and controlling their expression as they processed that. Okay, so yeah maybe Bruce wasn’t an attentive father, but the man never hit Y/N. He never said anything about Y/N that Y/N would have to go to therapy for. Besides, Bruce’s lack of attention paved the way for Y/N to do this! 

Y/N’s lips formed a serene smile, “Bruce, I’m not mad that you didn’t pay attention to me. You were busy with your company, you are legally a dad of five kids, not everyone is going to get the same attention.” They took a sip of the water, hoping the conversation would end there. 

“It wasn’t that I was busy, I just never made time Y/N… and for that I am sorry.” Y/N hates this. Absolutely hates this. All of their excuses for Bruce are being shot down by Bruce himself and it was leaving Y/N feeling a little raw. Wounds they didn’t even know about now being rubbed with salt. 

Y/N stuck their tongue in their cheek and looked around, before smiling once more, “Bruce, I am literally giving you a way out for your guilt, which I still don’t understand why you’re feeling guilty, so why aren’t you taking it? 

“What are you hoping to do?” Bruce stared into E/C eyes and he could see the irritation in them. He set his fork and knife down, and leaned forward, “Is it wrong to try and mend broken bridges?” 

“The bridge was never broken in the first place.” 

“You’re right, and that’s because there was never a bridge in the first place.” Y/N cocked their head to the side, watching with an intense expression. Those E/C eyes flickering around, taking in the restaurant and narrowing their eyes, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but did you rent out the entire restaurant?” 

“I did. So we can talk freely.” 

“The other ‘customers’ are Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian.” Bruce nodded, “Family dinner.” Y/N’s smile held no amusement, “You know, if you were anybody else I would be thinking this is a way for you to slide back in my life in hopes you could get some of my paycheck. But what is a model’s paycheck to Bruce Wayne’s?” Bruce chuckled, “You are making quite a bit. I’m happy you're conscious of your position now.” 

Y/N sipped the water, “How do you know how much I’m making?” Bruce only smiled and continued eating. He watched his child contemplate asking the question again, but then decided to drop it. 

‘Smart.’ Y/N continued to watch him, no longer touching the food and seeming unwilling to even look at the dessert menu. 

“You’ll visit when you’re back in the states, right?” It didn’t feel like a question. In fact, it felt more like a demand poised as a question to keep intentions hidden. Y/N gulped, “I’ll try.” 

“You should, Alfred misses you. Besides, Manhattan, New York isn’t too far from Gotham.” It was such an innocent sentence. One spoken with a smile on his lips and kind sky blue eyes. An innocent sentence, except Y/N has never once told them where they live. 

“A beautiful place, I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave. With windows like those and that giant skylight, it is truly a wonderful place befitting a top model such as yourself.” Y/N’s mouth went dry, and they could feel the sweat on the back of their neck as they continued to stare at Bruce. Their instincts implore them to go along with this. 

Urging them to carry on the conversation as they felt the gazes of four others on their back. They gave a wobbly smile, “Ye-yes. I really love it, I am super lucky that I managed to have enough saved up, and that I make enough to own a beautiful home such as that.” Bruce nodded, “As an apology for all the missed birthdays and Christmases, I decided to help out a bit.”

“...Excuse me?” Bruce ignored them, and instead looked at their plate that was still untouched from when Y/N had put down the utensils. He took a bite, “Do you not like your food? I can get something else made for you.” 

“N-no, I’m-I’m just full.” Bruce’s eyes narrowed before making a show of shrugging it off, “If you insist. Do know Alfred will want to feed you when you visit.” Y/N’s smile was becoming hard to maintain, “It was a pleasure to have dinner with you, Bruce, but I have to go. Long flight tomorrow and I need to be ready for next week.” Y/N fished out their credit card, but Bruce stuck his hand out, “Don’t worry about it, dinner has been paid for.” 

Y/N didn’t fight, only nodding and smiling pleasantly, “I suppose I will see you next week?” Bruce stood up, and brought Y/N into a tense hug. Feeling the bone and sinewy muscles in his rough hands. Y/N’s top is open back, exposing the shoulder blades and some of Y/N’s spine. Each one a small knob against skin, looking like the Rocky Mountains. 

“Safe flight, Y/N. See you at the shows next week.” Y/N gave a tight smile and quickly left. The four other pairs of eyes never left their back, and when finally in the safety of the streets, Y/N pulled out their phone and checked their Mortgage app. 

‘Successfully Paid!’ In bright green letters, bolded as if it were a game. 

It’s been paid off. Y/N now owed nothing on that house, and while that might have been freeing, it meant someone could now have access to their mortgage account. An alert sounded on their phone, and when Y/N saw that it was their bank account, notifying them of a deposit Y/N felt the breath leave their lungs. 

A large sum, one that had Y/N blinking at the amount of 0’s, was just deposited to their checking account. Right under their bill for walking on that runway. 

‘Shopping money, for when you visit.’ - Dick 

They have access to their bank account. Y/N’s family, because while Bruce was a solitary kind of guy he never was one to withhold information from his former Robins, now had access to their account. They could see what they were spending money on. 

They know where Y/N lives. From the sounds of it, Bruce was even in the penthouse. Y/N covered their mouth and tried to stifle a sob, the feeling of an invasion of their privacy weighing heavy in their chest. 

++++

Y/N stared at the article of clothing with anxiety. When Francesca had first shown them the clothing, it had only caused slight discomfort. Now, now that Y/N knows that their family is here, and watching, the clothing had felt like it was a metal ball. Francesca stood next to them, admiring Y/N’s hair and makeup, and how it all looked with clothing item. 

“I knew this would look great on you. As a Gothamite, this must feel great right? To be wearing the symbol of your City’s greatest vigilante.” Y/N swallowed down the bile, “He’s typically seen as the boogeyman, but yes. I suppose it does feel odd wearing the symbol.” 

The piece of clothing was quite scandalous, a bat symbol made out of gold rest across their chest, attached to a black silk fabric and lace. It hugged their body, bringing out the hip dips and long legs, as well as exposing their toned stomach. 

“Why didn’t you say anything about you being Bruce Wayne’s kid?” Francesca asked, and Y/N could only shrug, “Just… it just never came up.” Y/N loves that Francesca drops that. There are tons of models who have family issues. Y/N’s are minor. 

Not worthy of anything. 

“Y/N, for what it is worth, I do think you are a one in a century model. No one has taken to the runway quite like you have. I think if you had started the runway earlier you would already be a supermodel.” Y/N smiled at Francesca’s kind words, and they wondered just how they got so lucky to have befriended her. 

“Thank you.” 

“Models get ready!” Y/N took to the back of the line, being offered to close the show just after they had opened one. Another prestigious offer that Y/N gratefully took. Sighing heavily, they watched as the line grew shorter and the sound of cameras flashing and grew louder. 

Taking a deep breath, they steeled their breathing and controlled their expressions. Blocking out the world in the way they do best, strutting. The intensity of the flashes increased, and Y/N made a show of keeping their face neutral. 

Just how Batman does. 

They made a point to not look at the people in the front row. When they made it back behind the entry way, there was no time to catch their breath. They were ushered back into line for the final walk out, and Y/N wonders if they can all see how pale Y/N is. Can they see the sweat on their brow or the fact that their E/C eyes are terrified? 

“You did great Y/N!” 

“Looking beautiful Y/N.” 

“C’mon Y/N, after this its a party!” 

No, no they can’t see it because they are all focused on what Y/N wants them to be focused on. Y/N has spent countless hours into ensuring they loook beautiful without makeup, and ethereal in it, no one will care about their inner thoughts and turmoils. 

Y/N strutted to the music one last time, focusing on the flashing light and hoping that the photos they captured showed exactly what Y/N wants them to see. Once they were in the back, the models stripping and changing into comfortable clothes and all of them getting ready for the afterparty, Y/N stayed seated. The pads of their fingers running against the cold metal that was in the shape of a bat across their chest as their makeup artist and hairstylist undid all of their work. 

Francesca smiled, “You were great Y/N, I knew you would be the right person to pull this off.” 

“Thank you, what inspired this piece if you don’t mind me asking.” Francesca smiled, “Oh, I got a call actually. It was just a call to run the idea by me, but I loved it so much that I accepted it.” Y/N furrowed their brow, “A call?” They began to strip out of the clothing, but Francesca’s startled look made them pause. 

“...What?” 

“You’re not going to keep it on?” Y/N gave a confused look, “We don’t keep clothes, Francesca.” The stylist smiled, “Well, no. But Y/N, that was a commission for you.” Y/N stared at Francesca with a new found fear, and their mouth going dry as they processed it all. 

“Who… who did you say the call was from?” Francesca beamed, “Your father, who by the way I am offended you didn’t say anything about, Bruce Wayne.” Large hands clapped their shoulder, and Y/N would have shouted if it weren’t for the familiar smell of cologne. 

Turning around, they met Bruce’s blue eyes, and the blue eyes of their siblings. All of them dressed to the nines and eyeing the clothes. 

“Truly a wonderful piece, Ms. Gabbana. I could not thank you enough.” 

“Of course! Thank you for the idea!” Y/N felt their breath quicked when Dick’s hands gripped their wrist, and gently tugged them in his direction, “C’mon Y/N, you’ll be late to dinner. Alfred is making your favorite.” 

“At least let them change, Dick.” 

“Todd is right, a drive in that would be difficult. Not to mention that  it is snowing outside.” 

“Y/N, we have some clothes for you. They should be more comfortable then the clothes you came in.” Y/N couldn’t even say anything as they were dragged away, Bruce keeping Francesca busy while their brothers pushed them into a changing room. Dick smiling gently as he passed the bag of Y/N’s clothes, taken from their penthouse, into Y/N’s trembling arms. 

“Bruce paid for that outfit, so try not to ruin it, okay? We’ll be waiting out here for you.” Dick booped their nose, and left Y/N alone in the changing room taht only had a curtain for a door. With trembling hands, they searched the bag for their phone. They have to call someone. Cheryl will help them. So would Jon. Maybe even Maya! Y/N just needs to call– 

“Y/N, we have your phone out here, so don’t panic.” Y/N bit their lip to stop themself from sobbing. One thing. They just want one thing to go right today. 

A knock sounded on the wood that was hoolding the curtain, “Y/N, do you need help?” 

“N-no! No, I’m just try-trying to be gentle with the piece.” Bruce hummed, “Well, try and hurry. Alfred is excited to see you and is expecting us for dinner in three hours.” Y/N gulped, carefully stripping and putting on the sweats and hoodie. Clothes that still smell like their laundry detergent and shoes Y/N knows were in their closet. 

‘Dear God.’ They whimpered as they slipped on the comfortable pair of shoes, and bagged the shoes from teh show, and carefully picked up the article of clothing. The gold bat symbol shining mockingly at them. 

The curtain pulled open, and like a horror photo, the light from behind them casted and eerie shadow. Bruce’s face hidden in teh darkness as he reached his hand out for Y/N, knowing full well his child cannot run. 

“C’mon Y/N, time to go home.”

______________________________________________________________

A Part 2 will definitely happen! Kinda has to, to be honest.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 188 }

wrapped around your finger.

kenji (ken) sato x fem.reader

warnings: currently unedited; alcohol mention.

dedicated tags: @luneariaa since she adores kenji sato 🥰

{ you keep me wrapped around your finger | wrapped around your finger | i was caught up in your orbit | spinnin' like a bullet | i was wrapped around your finger | wrapped around your finger | then i shot back down to earth… }

there was a boredom felt coursing through your veins, and despite how you were living in a country where superheroes and monsters existed, it wasn’t enough to spice up your lackluster life (unless you counted running for your life when these said monsters appeared, but you digress).

you were a young woman living in the heart of tokyo, working a simple 9 to 5 job as you came home to your cozy, one bedroom apartment. it was a mundane life, filled with your usual routine-

but every once in a while, when a giant kaiju was seen within your city, your life would take a turn for the worse as you had to run to avoid any collateral damage caused by ultraman and his less than savvy way of defending the country.

you had no idea what had happened to the beloved hero. one moment, he was as competent as can be, always successfully leading the kaijus safely out of the city with minimal effort-

and the next, ultraman would actively be struggling to defend the city from these attacks, more often than not causing the k.d.f. to enter the scene and clean up the mess made by the struggling ‘superhero.’

on several occasions, you considered leaving the country of japan to move to a more peaceful part of the world void of any kaiju attacks, but with how badly the current ultraman was doing, (and knowing your luck), the monsters would probably end up invading all parts of the world.

so, you decided to save yourself the hassle and simply stayed in tokyo.

currently, you were eating a simple meal of cup noodles, seeing the time read 8:16pm. while slurping up your noodles, you kept changing the channels on your t.v., the boredom felt seeping into your very soul as it made you a bit listless. a yawn escapes from your parted lips, with tears felt running down your cheeks. letting out an annoyed grunt, you slam down your half eaten cup of instant noodles, your gaze burning with a strange determination to finally get out of your apartment.

"how pathetic can i be, anyways? it's a friday night, and i'm here eating instant ramen like a loser."

you grumble while speaking to yourself, heading into your room to find a cute outfit to wear before heading out. the night seemed calm, with zero monster attacks, and with the lack of monster attacks meant that you wouldn't be witnessing the pure incompetence of ultraman.

when you were dressed cutely while wearing a light sheen of makeup, you grabbed your purse and placed the essentials within it: your keys, cellphone, and wallet. ready to have the absolute night of your life, you finally left the confines of your apartment after what felt like centuries.

the warm, spring air brought the scent of cherry blossoms as you walked with a bounce in your step across the sidewalk. you weighed your options of what you could do tonight, yet ultimately settled on getting some drinks at a bar somewhere. and who knows? maybe you'll attract some guy and have him pay for all your drinks the whole night. it's not like you had work the next day, so you were going to let loose tonight and allow yourself to enjoy whatever the night had to offer.

you enter the first bar that you saw, walking in with a smile on your face as you slide towards a free space seen on the counter. the bartender greets you with a nod while asking for what you'd like. you tell him your favorite drink, and before you could say anything else, you were aware of a tall man that stands beside you, sliding what appeared to be his sleek black credit card across the marble counter.

"put it on my tab, i'll take care of her."

you could feel your eyebrows raise up in response, meeting the man with the cocky voice as he takes a seat beside you. he was handsome, with ebony locks of hair and matching eyes coupled along with an even cockier smirk.

"what's a cutie like you doing here all alone?" his arrogant tone and manner of speaking was enough to make you want to shut him out, with you grabbing the cold glass of your drink before taking copious gulps from it.

"whoa, sweetheart, you might want to take it easy. don't want you getting sick after one drink."

"i'm sorry, but who the hell are you again?"

your question succeeds in making the gorgeous annoying man do a double take, clearly caught off guard by your question before visibly relaxing once more. a lazy sounding chuckle was heard from him as he extends a hand out to you, "my apologies for being rude, i'm ken sato, but you may also know me as the sole man that will make history in baseball."

you feign disinterest, acting like you had no idea who he was just to knock him down a peg or two. "sorry, i'm not sure who you are. i'm aware of how there are many baseball teams, but your name has never once come up."

ken ends up letting out a painful grunt while dramatically clutching at the front of his chest. "my lady, you wound me."

you hold back the urge to roll your eyes at him, managing to finish your drink as you thanked the bartender for his time before getting out of your seat and away from ken. seeing the way his gaze widens at the sight of your retreating figure, he quickly takes back his card from the bartender before chasing after you.

"oi, don't you think it's a little rude to leave without at least telling me your name?" you purse your lips upon witnessing his persistence, already hearing the smirk in his voice as he catches up to you. due to his long legs, he manages to reach you within seconds, the lazy grin still on his face as he saunters beside you. "come on, babe, don't leave me hanging."

"don't call me babe, sato."

"heh, i won't as long as you give me your name, babe."

you stopped walking, meeting his shit-eating grin as you folded your arms across your chest. letting out a gentle huff, you finally tell him the syllables that made up your name, watching as ken's smile grew even wider, happy that he was victorious.

ken steps closer to you, brushing back a few strands of your hair while repeating your name a few times, as if wishing to taste them against his lips. you felt your eyes go wide when his handsome features lean closer to you-

only to freeze completely when a beeping sound was heard coming from his watch. from your periphery, you saw it glow an almost painful shade of red, nearly blinding you from how bright it was compared to the darkness of the night.

"shit, i gotta go!"

as you were left absolutely dumbfounded in the middle of the street, the sudden roar of a kaiju's cry followed by the brightness of ultraman's suit was what finally broke you out of your reveries as you let out a string of curses while running back home to your apartment.

i should have just stayed home. you thought to yourself in an almost bitter manner, feeling angry when you couldn't seem to get the image of ken's stupidly handsome face from your mind.

{ ... }

it had been a couple of months since your first meeting with the egotistical ken sato, and you were happy to see him get some well deserved karma.

for starters, each time he was in a game with his team, the giants, ken was the one who seemed to struggle the most. (you tell yourself the reason you watched his games was because you wanted to laugh at him, not because you held the tiniest bit of concern for him.)

he still kept up his cocky personality, but you could tell that he was exhausted. the dark circles seen beneath his pale skin became more prominent as his body appeared to be a bit more gaunt than usual. it was obvious that he was losing weight, and you feared for both his physical and mental health.

but truly, regardless of how much concern you had for him, it wasn't like you could just go up to his house and check up on him. since he was technically a celebrity, you were certain that even he had some set amount of boundaries set in place.

in the end, you decided to simply mind your own business, not wishing to disrupt kenji sato's life-

at least, for now.

{ ... }

it was currently your day off, and you had kept your t.v. on to a random channel when you heard the announcement;

"don't change that channel, since after our commercial break, we will head to ms. ami wakita with her first exclusive interview with the star of the giants, kenji sato himself!"

hearing those words makes you stop wiping at your countertops, your head tilted in response to the announcement. admittedly, work and your own personal life had distracted you from keeping up with the news pertaining to ken sato. you had kept the baseball player in the back of your mind, and truly felt curious about this interview.

wiping the slight sweat from your brow with a handkerchief, you let out a sigh before grabbing a bottle of water from your fridge, uncapping it as you nearly drained half of the bottle with your fervent gulps. letting out a sigh of satisfaction, you return to your couch just as the interview between ami wakita and ken began.

to say that you were absolutely shocked upon seeing ken again would be the understatement of the century. not only did he appear better (aside from what you assumed was a broken arm), but there was a kindness seen in his gaze. he spoke softly and respectfully in reply to each and every one of wakita's questions, and you found yourself becoming mesmerized by the tranquility of his voice.

your eyes were glued to the screen of your television, watching ami as she continued along with her interview.

"you've proved the skeptics wrong, brought the team together and rallied the giants to their first championship title in years. that's got to feel good."

"haha, i can't take the credit, it was this team- these guys. i'm just happy to be a part of it."

“earlier, i spoke with shimura who said 'ken sato might be the finest player i have ever coached. he exemplifies what it means to be a giant.'

many critics, including myself, have noticed a change. what do you attribute that to?”

“i wouldn’t be here without my family, simple as that. my dad, mom, they made this possible. i just wish she could be here to see it.”

“i’m sure she’d be proud.” wakita reassures ken with a genuine smile on her face.

ken takes a moment, adjusting himself on his seat before taking out his phone.

“she used to leave these messages, little things to help me get through tough times. mind if i share?”

wakita simply nods in response, allowing ken to press play on his phone as his mother's voice was heard:

"kenji, you're probably not even up yet, but i was thinking about you and i wanted to share a little list of hopes. i hope that you'll give your father a chance. whether you believe it or not he loves you with all his heart. i hope you'll understand us better- understand that we were just trying to prepare you for all the challenges headed your way.

and as time passes, and we fade into memory, i hope that you'll pass some of those memories, some of those lessons along. because in the end, it was all done with love, kiddo. i miss you. see you soon."

your eyes began to water, feeling the tears well up from within them after hearing such a heartfelt message. wishing to pull yourself together, you wipe away at your tears and shut off the television screen. your heart was felt glowing with a strange warmth, recalling ken's kind smile during such a heartfelt interview-

was this the same ken sato you interacted with all those months ago?

no; the pompous ken you had first met was merely a mask he had made for himself. the ken that spoke to wakita- now that was his true self. you were certain of it now.

deep down, you knew that you probably would never see him again, yet still, you couldn't help but feel immensely happy for him. there was a kindness and a light seen in his gaze now, making your prior worries pertaining to him melt away in response.

{ ... }

despite how the kaiju attacks still occurred, the world surrounding you seemed much more peaceful now-

especially since it seemed like ultraman had finally gotten his shit together.

his gigantic form walked with more confidence now, as he was able to send each wandering kaiju back into the depths of the ocean and away from the city of tokyo. his popularity has spiked yet again, especially after his heroic actions seen when he shielded the city from a bomb that was meant to take out what seemed like the entirety of the country.

altogether, you felt considerably safer now while living in this city.

once you clocked out of your job, you figured you could treat yourself to a nice restaurant, searching through your phone for some places nearby. you were so focused on searching for the best restaurant to eat at that you were unaware of the tall man standing in front of you, making your form collide with his as the impact left you gasping a bit.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!"

"heh, don't worry about it, pretty lady."

your eyes go wide, recognizing that casual voice anywhere as you looked up to see a pair of gentle, dark eyes looking down at you. his face was partially covered by a baseball cap, but the way his hair fell across his face (further accentuating his handsome features) was a dead giveaway.

"ken...!"

you had no idea what prompted you to do this, but you couldn't stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck. feeling your sudden embrace catches ken off guard as he takes a step back, steadying himself when he wraps an arm around you.

"hey, it's good to see you again, too." a rich chuckle was heard coming from him, and you found yourself trembling in response. hearing him speaking to you so gently now filled you with an inexplicable warmth. recalling his injury, you gasp and take a step back, "i'm so sorry, i forgot about your arm!"

"no worries, look." ken then holds up both of his hands in response, "see? i'm all healed. no harm no foul, really."

you felt the heat dye against your cheeks, clearly flustered now while speaking to this achingly sweet and soft version of ken sato. "t-thank you, really. uhm, so... like, i was wondering... ah..."

you found yourself struggling to get the words out, making ken look down at you while placing both hands into the pockets of his jeans. he waits for you to continue speaking, and you let out a deep breath before continuing, "i'm sorry, for being a bit cold to you when we first met-"

yet ken cuts off your apology by holding his hand up, "don't be, i was a complete and total asshole to you. you had every right to be annoyed with me, and honestly, no offense taken when the cold shoulder was well deserved."

you both end up laughing at the memory, taking a second to bask in the moment before you spoke once more, "listen, i was going to head out somewhere to eat dinner. would you like to join me?"

ken's eyes go wide as he gives you an eager nod, "would i like to join you? hell yes i would like to join you. did you have somewhere planned?"

you shake your head in response, "not exactly, but i figured we could decide together, maybe?"

a wide grin was then seen on ken's face, "are you in the mood for some amazing tonkatsu? if so, i know the perfect place."

"yes! i don't mind some tonkatsu at all!"

"perfect." ken then takes a hold of your hand, walking beside you as he remains on the side closest to traffic while striding across the sidewalk with you. by now, your heart was felt skipping its beats when you softly called out his name.

"hm?" ken faces you, and you gathered your courage before standing closer to him to press a kiss against his cheek. the kiss was a quick one, barely lasting a second before you immediately stepped away from him. you felt the heat return to your cheeks once more, catching the way ken touches at the spot where you had kissed him with his hand.

another rich chuckle was heard coming from him before he tells you, "you missed."

"eh?!" you turn around to face him again, only to see ken slowly turning his baseball cap around before leaning closer to you with a smile on his face.

"i said... you missed." finally understanding what he meant, you felt your gaze slowly narrow before closing your eyes completely, allowing ken's lips to meet with yours in a sweet kiss, setting your heart aflame with adoration for him as you gently kissed him back, completely and utterly engrossed in your own little world with him.

a.n. - so i just finished watching ultraman: rising just a mere few hours ago and had to write something for the new boyfriend material 😭 ken sato is so sweet and cute, and i get why he has tumblr in a chokehold right now. this is unedited, but i hope you readers still enjoy this!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[valwrote]

stressed!alhaitham who is in a stinky mood ever since nahida gave him the job of acting grand sage. ft. fem!reader aka the bootiful bean reading this.

mentions of alhaitham's granny (rip)

I chose my next victim of choice to be alhaitham regarding my impulsive ideas since I can't write a full blow fic rn. I hope there are still people who like this guy.

right??

"Uh oh, it is going to rain." one of the vendors muttered.

"Certaintly is. We better pack up. What idiot would want to stay in the cold rain?" Another muttered as everyone started to hurry and pack up.

Soon the pitter patter drowned out the rest of the noises.

The sky was cloudy with a hue of blueish gray bringing a solemn atmosphere with it. The gloomyness engulfed the city of Sumeru. Alhaitham sat alone on a bench, hunched up. Guess he was the idiot to sit in the rain.

He could hear people whispering, muttering to themselves at the sight of him as they walked by, holding their umbrellas. Some running towards shelter. Alhaitham paid no mind to them, he was busy with his problems.

He never imagined that he would go from having a simple job of the Scribe of the Akademiya who could relax and reject applications left and right to becoming the Acting Grand Sage.

On paper the title does seem like an important position but nobody told the reality of the job and the tsunami of paperwork that came with it. Being hunched up in an office chair and burying your face in a mountain of petty queries and complaints was enough to drive a person crazy.

"Acting Grand Sage...what a joke." He bitterly chuckled as the rain dampened his clothes more and more. All he wanted was to save his 9 to 5 job and the people of his country. He didn't expect to be appointed as the administrator of an entire nation.

He recalled Nahida trying to persuade him into agreeing to the post.

"No pressure or anything!" Nahida told the taller male. "I don't wish to force you. I just thought that you are so smart, capable and reliab-"

"Okay."

"Huh?" Nahida stared at him blankly. She thought that it would take a lot more buttering to get Alhaitham to agree. She didn't think it would be this easy.

"If it is what the Archon wants, I'll do it." He bowed out of respect. Nahida marveled at his gesture before smiling.

"Thank you."

Yet this job made him almost, almost, pity Azar.

Well in the heat of the moment, he said yes. Alhaitham was a rational thinker, yet this was probably the one rational decision he was regretting at the moment, amidst the cold rain. Some trivial matter always came breaking down his door.

Should he just run away? No, he couldn't bear to run away from his home. Perhaps a vacation? No, nobody was competent in his eyes to take his place. Moreover if he leaves, who will collect Kaveh's due rent? Even worse if Kaveh burns down his house in his absence! Maybe a change of pace would be nice. A small window of escape from his life of humbug.

Such worries clouded his thoughts which he snapped out of after someone touched his shoulder. "I am sorry, I don't mean to pry but are you okay? Why are you sitting in this rain?" You asked him.

"No reason." He replied curtly.

"Oh okay." You didn't feel like pushing him forward to tell you more. Most people ignored him and walked past him but for some reason you chose to stay, much to his dismay. You stood their for a brief minute before turning around to walk away only to get cut off by a sound.

Grumble

That caught your attention as you turned around to see Alhaitham averted his gaze with the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment. He wasn't a man with much words but his stomach certainly didn't stay quiet.

"Are you hungry?" "...yes."

Alhaitham wasn't the one to play pretend. He simply succumbed to his hunger. You walked back towards him and take a seat beside him. He didn't seem to object your actions and stared at you as your fingers unwrapped a packet containing pita pockets.

"Let's share! Nothing better than some pipin' hot food to lighten one's mood!" You smiled and offered him some. He could feel the warm gush of air from the steaming food hitting him the face.

They smelled nice. How long has it been since he sat down and ate a hot meal? When was the last time he cooked for himself. As a child, his grandma would always take care of him, listen to his problems and make sure he would eat his fill. His grandma's cooking was a distant memory for him. He couldn't help but feel a bit grateful.

Yet he still managed to burn his tongue. "Slow down! You don't want to singe your tongue now, do you?" You warned him as he hissed at the burning sensation. However that didn't stop him from continuing to eat. He was hungry, alright.

You both silently sat under the comfort of one umbrella. "So, bad day?" You started. "Yes." "Hm, everyone has one of those. It is okay."

He remained quiet, while chewing. He didn't talk much for someone who was a linguistic scholar. How ironical. For Alhaitham, this food tasted warm, it tasted like home. It was made with love, care and time, unlike those stale delicacies you get around cafeterias.

"Thank you. That was- nice." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"He really devoured 3/4th of it." You gaped at the box. "Have you not eaten at all?" You raised the question.

"Well, I see no reason to not share with you just a little bit..." he murmured to himself.

"No, with the amount of work- I haven't been focusing much on food." Alhaitham settled on that answer. Neither giving too much away nor upsetting the stranger infront of him.

"Well then how about I cook for you? I work at the Pushpa Cafe. You can drop by anytime for a meal." You suggested as he raised his brows.

"And make my wallet empty in less than a week? I'll pass." He sarcastically remarked. Definitely a tough nut to crack.

"No! I don't care about money. I care about feeding people. What makes a chef is passion to cook and serve others, not a capitalist mindset." You huffed in annoyance. He seemed skeptical at your statement earning a sigh from you.

"Taking help isn't bad. You gotta lean onto people sometimes! It's completely okay and normal, y'know?" You continued, trying to get him to believe you and how you were being genuine.

That sent him into deep thought. After a few minutes he spoke up, "very well. I'll take up your offer. Better than eating my roommates "food" which might poison me." He concluded as you chuckled at how nonchalant he was.

"Alright! I'll see you later or whenever you choose to drop by!" You chime and hand him the rest of the pita pockets. "Eat well. Oh! And have this" you held out the umbrella for him to take.

"But what about you?" He asked with slight worry.

"Oh my house is just down the road, if I run fast enough, I'll be fine!" You reassured him and ran away, covering yourself with your arms.

He watched you run away, the warmth of the pita pocket on his palms. Who knew a stranger with an umbrella could make the remaining part of his day just a bit better? Alhaitham couldn't help but smile a little.

People enter someone's life for one reason or the other. Alhaitham wanted to run away. No, he just wanted a vacation. Perhaps he just needed a change of pace.

This was his change of pace.

a/n : oh my god- this is probably worse than the first draft I wrote because I accidentally deleted it- ughh. But it is okay 😤

alhaitham just needs a break lmao

©definitelysel

[catiuskaa]

my knight in comforting armour

bc changbin just changbin changbin and like this was meant to be a small drabble but nothing can be small when changbin is the topic, only binnie. smol binnie. my binnie.

@evermourning hope you like this one, darling!

wc: 1.6k

tw: harassment, swearing

[☆★ ✈️ ★☆]

You let out a soft grunt, eyeing at the black screen of your phone, squinting at the sight of small dents and cracks.

You had been in the plane for what probably was two hours, which made you sigh due to the lack of anything to do for the remaining 6 or 7 hours left. You were sat directly on the side of the corridor, making looking at the window a hard task considering not only the distance but the fact that the woman there had closed the window so she could sleep. If you could, you would’ve whined, but it was your choice to stop using the phone after it reached the 20%, so it was more of a you problem really for keeping your charger out of reach and being overall lazy to just stand up and get it.

You kept staring at the kids in the seats in front of you, listening to how they were decorating their Animal Crossing island, whether they should kick out “that ugly cow” or not when you suddenly felt a shiver ran through your spine, and you had to hold back the urge to look around in an anxious matter, the feeling of being stared at creeping in your body. Instead of acting like a total maniac, you calmly pretended to strech yourself until you spotted the culprit.

There he was, just a few rows behind you, his stare burning into your skin, almost making you flinch. It was a random guy you’d bumped into when trying to put your suitcase into the compartment and failed miserably, and even though he felt a bit too close to you for your liking, he had been nice and helped you with your stuff. Aside that, he was a complete stranger. You couldn’t help but move uncomfortably on your place, his gaze almost lingering on your skin. In a burst of awkwardness, you left your place and zoomed your way to the back of the plane and locked yourself in the bathroom.

What the hell was going on? Was he going to kiddnapp you or something? Getting you into the international drug dealing world? Steal from you? You didn’t know but it was sure fucked up, reason why you jumped when you got out of the bathroom and Creepy Guy was in front of you, his eyes trailing all over you— more like at your body. You shifted you pose and grinned politely, reminding yourself the definition of manners: smiling even though you’d rather punch the bitch in the face and run away.

“Excuse me,” you mentioned, hoping that the clusterfuck that was going on in your mind would just fade away, a scenery sort of like that meme with all the little Sponge Bobs running around in Sponge Bob’s brain as it was burning down.

“No, eh, excuse me. I noticed you earlier in the plane, I was wondering whether I had met you before…”

Oh my god, were you just paranoid all this time? For a second you felt bad, it wasn’t his fault that several men behaved like total shitheads.

“No, sorry, I don’t think so…” You tried going back to your seat, but he grabbed your forearm, his sweaty palms making you shiver in contrast of the AC that had been blasting at you for the past half an hour. Your whole body tensed up as his expression changed into a smile, one different from the sheepish smile from a second ago, this one felt dark and really, really creepy.

Changbin was heading back home with the rest of the members. Due to scheduling problems regarding the time they would spent out of the country, the agency had managed to get them sits for the plane, but separated from each other, unlike the usual three rows close they used to book, the lack of other services or departures that day being a bit at fault, although there was really no one to blame. Arriving was far more important than sitting close to eachother, so they’d decided to take the plane, thinking it wasn’t that big of a deal anyways.

He was sitting on the left side of the corridor, last row, with the only company of a cute old lady that fell asleep almost as soon as the plane took off.

He hadn’t seen you speed your way to the toilets, it had been Jisung who noticed your poor act of running away. He was sitting a few rows ahead, in alley sit, and turned around to look at him, head motion pointing towards your direction. Changbin shrugged, he hadn’t really paid attention to the situation until a man went behind you, in quite a brute way, as if he didn’t remember he was in public.

And that behaviour was… weirdly off putting.

Jisung and him stared at eachother for a second, Han’s eyebrows arched in confusion.

“No, stay here for a second.” The man had said to you in a rough tone.

Seo tensed up, eyes big, and slightly shook his head sideways towards Jisung, who immediatly turned towards the other side of the corridor, looking for a way to call the flight attendants’ attention.

“Let go of me, sir.” You were still scared, yet you hadn’t paid self-defence classes for nothing. “I won’t repeat myself a third time. Let. Go. Of. Me.”

Changbin was frozen in shock. He looked towards Han’s direction, in hopes that his silent cry for help could be noticed by someone on the fucking metal bird they were on, but it wasn’t being really helpful.

“Oh, you’re a strong woman, yeah, that’s why I had to help you with your suitcase.” He had laughed, as if what you had said had been a joke.

“Get over yourself, pretty legs.”

Seo flinched and frowned. He was waiting, waiting for a signal that could tell him if you were actually fine on your own or if he had to launch himself to help.

Because no doubt on it.

He would.

You were surprisingly calm, although your heart was racing due to the adrenaline in your body. You moved your arm away and tried getting into the toilet again, yet barely managed to enter when Creepy Guy pushed you out of the cubicule.

“You’re getting on my nerves, bitch.” He murmured.

“Get off me, you fucking pervert!” You tried to push him, and repeated what you’d learned before. You turned your arm inwards, making his bend in an uncomfortable position and then grabbed his wrist, twisted it again until he was at your mercy, and finished it by stepping on his foot.

Changbin looked at you, mouth partially

opened in surprise, then smiled slightly. He shook his head, ‘sometimes people are their own heroes’ he thought, but just when he was about to sit back, Creepy Guy had tried to elbow you when your attempted escape hadn’t quite worked.

“I am going to beat you up.”

You turned pale. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How to get out of this one? You were running out of patience and ideas.

“Everything alright here?”

You looked at the shredded man in front of you, dressed fully in black, curly hair making him look quite cute, yet his expression would make anyone at least a bit wary of their actions.

A note must be cleared, because on one hand, you could have gotten out of the problem just fine. Most likely. But you on the other hand, did what every sane human being would do in danger, and greeted the helping —and beautiful— man with a warm embrace, literally, because you yeeted yourself to his arms, whispering at least four ‘thank yous’ when he hugged you back slightly.

“Changbin.” He mentioned, what you supposed was his name. “Pretend with me for a second, ok?”

You nodded and turned around, facing the man.

“Any issues with my girl that I would need to know of?”

You held back a shiver that creeped from the deeperst parts of your body, unable to understand exactly why, because it had been just a nickname. Creepy Guy almost groaned, huffing in response as he fixed his shirt.

“Your girl? This bitch was almost on her knees for me not even two hours ago, dude. Teach her some fucking manners then.”

You noticed Changbin’s hand lying on the small of your back, at the exact spot where it could look like he was gropping you, but the skinship just felt quite comfortable, him almost barely touching your lower back.

“Excuse you, you absolute delusional freak. There’s only bitch in this conversation, and its not me.” You fumed, adrenaline still rushing through your body.

“It’s ok, babe.” Seo held you sofly by your waist, and you leaned into the touch, at first purely by instinct, which surprised you.

Creepy Guy tried heading outside, when Changbin grabbed him just like he had grabbed you minutes ago.

“By the way, I’ve got the whole thing on video. Good luck getting out of this one, champ.” He smiled, and your insides twisted.

“You bast-“

“Is everything ok, sir?”

Changbin recognized Jisung waving in his place, sending him thumbs up with a smile, mouthing what he got as “sorry”, as well as Chan, who was directly behind the flight attendant that stood in front of both of you, a woman that looked fierce as hell, and clearly wasn’t having any of this situation, despite the apparent sweetness of her tone.

She called for other flight attendant who guided the man to his seat, then directed herself to you, her whole facade wearing off and looking at you in a mix of proudness and a bit of pity, understanding your awkward position.

“Is your seat close to his?” You nodded.

She pinched her nose, visibly holding herself back from behaving violently. “Are you traveling with these gentlemen? I could try and search for a seat closer to them” She pointed to the other men that looked at you.

You noticed again the somewhat soft palm in the curve of your back, which brought you back to reality.

“No, but I still would want to change. Is that a problem… Changbin?” He smiled, cheeks softly turning pink.

“Oh no, its ok. We’re a group of eight scrambled through the airplane, I don’t think it’ll be an issue to find a spare seat.”

Ten minutes later, you were giggling next to him, using his phone while you charged yours with his cable as you both kept loosing at the same game, failing to find more words for the crossword.

You hoped you could keep the contact with all the group after you met them when the airplane landed. And something made you think you would, noticing a hand drawing soft circles on the palm of your hand as you all tried to get out of the crowds.

~Kats, a fluff Changbin enthusiast who is being deeply affected by cuffing season and binnie in a compression shirt.

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (8)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: fingering, smut, mention of grooming ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood!

Story Music Playlist.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She woke up hearing the clacking of dishes in the distance. She opened her eyes and furrowed her brow, not knowing for a moment where she was. She looked around and recognised Helaena's living room in confusion, only then remembering with a blush on her face the events of the evening before.

Their passionate kisses, his hand on her soft breast, his arms embracing her throughout the night.

He had slept with her on the couch, his face snuggled into her shoulder, his hands on her palms.

She thought they really were together.

She got up and followed the sounds that led her to the kitchen. In it she saw, amazed, Aemond standing over a frying pan, apparently just making scrambled eggs, next to him water was boiling in a kettle on the burner.

He heard her footsteps and glanced in her direction; she saw that he too was embarrassed and swallowed loudly, stirring in the pan with a wooden spoon.

"Will you eat with me?" He asked lowly, and she agreed with a smile, walking slowly closer.

"Can I help you somehow?" She asked and he nodded, pointing with his head to the mug standing on the countertop.

"Choose what kind of tea you want to drink. I don't know if you want sugar. There are plates upstairs in the cupboard, take three out, I'll ask Aegon if he'll eat with us." He said turning off the fire under the pan and went out into the corridor, shouting from downstairs to his brother if he would have breakfast with them.

After a while Aegon joined them and the three of them sat down at the table. Aegon looked at her wrinkling his brow, sleepy, not yet fully awake.

"Did you stay overnight?" He asked puzzled, and she lowered her gaze, embarrassed, swallowing the bite she had just eaten.

"Yes, I fell asleep on the couch and Aemond probably didn't want to wake me up again." She said in a slightly trembling voice, trying not to give herself away or look at them, taking another bite of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

Aegon raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother, then grunted loudly, clearly amused, already concentrating on his food.

"Helaena returned safely?" She asked uncertainly wanting to change the subject, worrying if anything had happened to her.

"She texted me a while ago that she was staying with a friend for the night and that she would be home this afternoon." Aemond replied, and she nodded.

Aegon left them alone, saying that he needed to sleep for at least another hour and Aemond looked at her uncertainly, fiddling with his cup in his hand.

"If you want, take a shower. I'll give you a clean towel. We can still play here or in my room. Or watch something." He muttered quickly, as if suddenly throwing out ideas and reasons why she could stay longer.

Her heart was pounding like crazy.

He wanted her not to go home yet.

She agreed and, at his suggestion, bathed, then they moved to his room to play games on his computer. They took their pads with them and spread out comfortably in two leather armchairs, one of which he had brought for her from Helaena's room.

She saw him looking at her, her hair was still slightly damp and completely loose.

She knew that, like her, he was thinking about what had happened between them and that for him it had been an equally groundbreaking experience.

He paused the game they were playing after a while and looked down at his thighs, his lips tightened.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked without looking at her, fiddling with his pad in his hand, his voice trembling as he spoke the words. She nodded.

He licked his lower lip, as if he was gathering what he wanted to say with great difficulty. He was silent for a moment.

"Do you have any physical experience? I mean…one with yourself, for example." He mumbled embarrassedly, sliding lower in his chair as if he wanted to curl up and hide. She lowered her head feeling the embarrassment that was visibly painted on her face.

"…I've never had a boyfriend before, if that's what you're asking." She said quietly and he swallowed loudly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, pale.

"But have you…you know. Have you ever touched yourself?" He asked uncertainly, and she gave him a concerned look, furrowing her brow.

"Why do you ask about it?" She asked in a slightly trembling voice, and he looked at her surprised, feeling subconsciously that he might have crossed a line with this question, even though he didn't want to.

"I just…I just don't want to hurt you. I want to know what point you're at so I can…adjust to you. You know." He shrugged his shoulders pressing his lips together; she felt some kind of pain and at the thought that he was more experienced than her, that he had done it with his ex-girlfriend in all sorts of ways.

She lowered her gaze, looking at her pad with a blank stare, thinking about how she would be a disappointment to him.

How would she give him what she had?

She felt tears under her eyelids, her lower lip beginning to tremble a little. She heard him lean forward in his seat wanting to see her face and seeing her state he moved quickly towards her, touching his hand to her cheek, taking her hair back with a light flick of his fingers.

"− hey − what's going on? − tell me −" He mumbled out, frightened by her condition and the fact that he had offended her. She swallowed hard, looking down at her thighs and shrugged her shoulders.

"− it doesn't make sense − you'll be only frustrated with me − I can't give you what she had −" She uttered with difficulty, and he pressed his forehead against her temple, tightening his hand on her hair.

"− stop − okay? − you don't understand this − I regret a lot of things − I regret that I didn't wait with them − I regret that I couldn't erase all of this and start over, with you −" He whispered, and she felt a strong squeeze in her heart, breathing unevenly through her slightly parted lips.

"− I was proud of the fact that she treated me like a man − that she wanted me like a man − but inside I was terrified − she didn't care, she took what she wanted − I was left with this sickening sense that she used me, that I am just a flesh and nothing more −" He muttered, and she looked up at him, shocked by his words, her eyebrows arched in pain.

"Don't say that." She said softly, quietly, and he swallowed loudly, his jaw clenched, his fingers running over her cheek and lower lip.

"− but it's true − that's how I feel − I did fucked up things with her − I felt like an animal − when I came home afterwards I didn't know what my fucking name was − I couldn't look my mother in the eye −" He choked out with difficulty, his face and healthy eye red, his voice trembling making her feel a tightness in her throat.

"− but with you −" He stammered and chuckled under his breath, shaking his head, his thumb circled and returned back to her cheek.

"− I didn't know it could be like this − so tender − so peaceful, safe − − just your scent and your closeness makes me want you so badly that I can barely keep my hands off you −" He exhaled and bit his lower lip, sighing quietly.

"− that's why I just want to know what you need, how much I can allow myself − you're my girlfriend and I don't want to hurt you − okay? −" He asked in a trembling voice, and she nodded quickly, feeling hot in her heart at his words.

You're my girlfriend.

She looked up at him, swallowing loudly, her lips slightly parted.

"− I'd just like to please you − I'd like to be enough for you −" She whispered in a trembling voice, and he drew her to him, forcing her to sit on his lap and embrace him, his large chair creaking under their shared weight.

She felt safe in his arms, his hand stroking her hair, his lips kissing the top of her head with a tender click. She could hear his heart pounding fast.

"− I want you − I want to wait for you − I want to be worthy of you − make us slowly discover everything together −" He murmured tenderly, placing affectionate kisses on her hair again and again; she snuggled into him tightly, touched, lingering like this with him in the embrace, feeling that they were closer to each other than ever.

"− can you kiss me? −" She asked in a shy, trembling voice. He hummed contentedly and lifted his head, his nose gently rubbed against hers before his lips pressed to hers in a soft, innocent, warm kiss.

She hugged his neck and pressed herself tighter to him wanting to show him how much she needed him, how much she desired him, how happy she was. He murmured contentedly as he embraced her around the waist, their kisses loud, sticky and slow, she could feel his fingers trailing down her back.

She pulled away from him and looked at him with a misty gaze, thinking with a fast beating heart that she wanted to do this, she wanted to open up to him, she wanted him to think she was beautiful.

With a light movement of her trembling hands, she grabbed the material of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her bare chest to him. She saw the pupil of his healthy eye narrowed in shock, his breath caught in his throat, felt his manhood pulsate hard beneath her in his trousers.

She looked at him uncertainly, feeling a slight chill, feeling vulnerable, exposed, however at the same time realising that she was safe, that he would never hurt her.

She saw him swallow loudly, his gaze running from her face to her breasts and back again, his hand gently running over the side of her naked waist. She felt him slowly move forward and press his face against her sternum, placing his hands on the bare skin of her back.

She could feel him pulsing hard beneath her, his fingers trailing up and down her body, but beyond that he didn't move. She slid her fingers into his hair, stroking his head and kissed the top of it leaning over him, pressing her cheek against him with a blush on her face.

She felt his lips place soft, tender kisses on her sternum, and then he pressed the side of his face into her warm flesh, one of his hands tentatively running his fingers gently over her soft, plump breast as he looked at it.

He traced his fingers up and down, a pleasant shiver passing through her every time he ran his fingers over her nipple. He felt it, his thumb deliberately beginning to tease and play with it; she felt a pulsing between her thighs and a pleasant heat in her lower abdomen, involuntarily rubbing against his erection she felt underneath.

She heard him sigh softly, his hips responded to her movements with slow rocking, their bodies in some subconscious reflex begin to press against each other with their breaths speeding up.

He surprised her when he lifted his head suddenly, his lips finding hers in greedy kiss, his hands gripping her armpits in such a way that both his thumbs brushed and teased her nipples.

She moaned into his mouth, feeling a pleasant shiver that shook her whole body, she felt him smirk.

"− feels good? −" He murmured between one sticky kiss and another, and she only nodded, unable to focus on anything other than the wetness and pulsing between her thighs, her hands stroking his cheeks and hair, holding him close.

He pulled away from her and looked at her in a way that made her hot, and then he leaned over and grabbed her right breast in his mouth, sucking and licking her nipple, making her clench her hands in his hair and tilt her head back, a moan escaping her lips again, her thighs speeding up their movements, rubbing against his manhood faster and faster.

"− quiet −" He gasped out between one lick of his tongue and another, starting to suck her again, and she pressed her lips together with difficulty, remembering that Aegon was asleep in the next room. The tension she felt was indescribable, she had never felt this good before in her life.

She heard him let go of her breast with a loud click of his saliva only to deal with her other breast in the same way, making a quiet mewl escape her throat, his hands sliding down to her buttocks forcing her to press harder against him.

"− fuck −" He growled, panting loudly along with her; she had the feeling that they had both lost control and surrendered completely to what was happening between them.

She squealed quietly as he stood up with her, grabbing her under her hips and walked with her towards his bed, thrusting himself onto it with her pulling away from her breasts, looking at her.

"− did you ever touch yourself down there? −" He repeated the question in a trembling voice, and she swallowed loudly, embarrassed, feeling that she had never been so wet before in her life.

"− yes, but − nothing ever came out of it − I mean −" She mumbled out, feeling that she was red, though she didn't know how to put it into words.

She touched herself and it felt good, but she couldn't bring herself to orgasm and had no idea what she was doing wrong.

Never then, however, had her insides pulsed as hard as they did now. She saw that he licked his lips, breathing hard, restraining himself with all his might not to just throw himself at her.

"− would you like me to try? − you know −" He muttered, and she swallowed loudly, looking at him with wide eyes.

"− we don't have to − we can only do what we've been doing − I just want to know −" He added quickly, terrified that he might have imposed too fast a pace on her and frightened her. She swallowed loudly, looking at him with her lips slightly parted, feeling her heart pounding hard.

"− we can try −" She mumbled embarrassedly and saw that he swallowed with difficulty, letting the air out loudly. He nodded, laying down beside her.

"− lie with your back to me − yes, just like that −" He murmured, pulling her to him, embracing her with his arms, she could feel his hard length pressed between her buttocks.

She swallowed loudly as his fingers gently began to tease her nipple again, and his other hand slowly slid lower to the material of her shorts, his warm breath surrounding her ear and cheek.

"− tell me if you get uncomfortable, okay? − promise me −" He whispered in a trembling voice, and she nodded quickly, feeling like her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

"− okay −"

She drew in a loud breath as his fingers slid under the material of her panties, in a slow, unhurried motion sinking into her most intimate place. He stopped as her whole body tensed through this new, foreign sensation.

"− do you want me to stop? −" He asked uncertainly, but she shook her head.

He swallowed loudly, gently exploring her condition with his hand, sinking into her hot, soft folds, his fingertips ran gently over her slit, so wet because of her arousal; she gasped, hearing his sudden, surprised, quiet groan.

"− oh fuck − little one − what happened here? −" He asked with some kind of appreciation, spreading her moisture all over her womanhood, his fingers in gentle circular motions began to tease the space around the spot from which shivers ran through her.

"− I − I don't know −" She mumbled embarrassedly and he chuckled softly, his lips placing a gentle kiss on her neck.

"− but I know − my little fox got all wet for me −" He whispered, and she felt his words between her thighs, a wave of heat went through her, the space inside her throbbed hard.

"− ah −" She moaned helplessly, his hands simultaneously teasing her nipple and her clit made her body all hot, she felt like the tension in her lower abdomen kept growing, that she was no longer thinking soberly, her hips began to move to the rhythm of his hand.

"− that's it − just feel it − such a good girl −" He praised her, kissing her hair tenderly, obviously feeling her leaking onto his fingers.

She squeezed her eyes shut, panting loudly along with him, feeling him rubbing against her from behind, feeling his hardness pulsing aggressively pressed against her buttocks, feeling that he was turned on by what he was doing to her.

She shuddered and barely stifled a loud moan when she suddenly felt the tip of his middle finger slide into her a little, pushing her tight, throbbing muscles apart.

"− shhh −" He hushed her and she swallowed loudly clenching her lips, reaching back with her hand, grabbing his hair with his murmur of delight, with subconscious movements she sank down onto his finger, letting it fill her, both of them sighing loudly.

"− fuck − so tight − we need to prepare you a bit before you feel this inside you one day, hm? −" He asked, rubbing his hard erection against her buttocks. "− I wouldn't want to tear you apart −"

She let out a loud gasp at his words, all hot, moaning and panting as quietly as she could, his finger sliding in and out of her with a loud click of her moisture.

She arched her back as he found a spot inside her that every time he rubbed it made her go dark before her eyes, his thumb teasing her clit as at the same time the fingers of his other hand massaged and pulled at her nipple.

"− A-Aemond − I think − oh my God −" She mumbled out and opened her mouth wide with a loud moan, sensing that something was coming; he managed to cover her lips with his free hand before she whimpered again and again, her body shook with a wave of pleasure that took her completely by surprise. She breathed loudly, quivering and moaning his name, falling and rising on his finger.

"− oh baby − so much flowed out of you − fuck, I want to feel you so badly −" He breathed out into her ear as her body shook with convulsions, his hand still clamped over her mouth.

He let her go when he felt her calm down; she could feel him looking at her but she just lay there with her eyes closed, concentrating only on how wonderfully intense the experience was.

"− how was it? − did you enjoy it? −" He asked in a trembling voice with some kind of pride, and she just nodded, unable to get anything more out of herself.

"− I'm going to go to the bathroom for a while, okay? − I'll get you some tissues so you can wipe yourself off −" He said quietly and she nodded again. He kissed her on her cheek and got out of bed, walking quickly towards his door, closing it behind him as soon as he left.

He'd been gone quite a while, but she didn't think about it, happy and fulfilled, thinking about the fact that she felt a little more like a woman now, not a little girl.

That even though her whole body was trembling, it felt good.

She opened her eyelids when he returned and took the packet of damp tissues from him, slipping them individually between her thighs, wanting to get rid of that uncomfortable, sticky feeling.

She tossed them into his bin standing next to his bed and lay down again. He settled behind her back as before with his arms around her, kissing the bare skin of her neck and shoulder; she felt that the hardness in his trousers disappeared.

"− what happened to that? −" She asked with amusement, rubbing her buttocks against him; she heard him hum behind her, she knew he was smiling.

"− it's my dark secret −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 4: Want to Talk About It?

Joel attends your mother's funeral. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 3, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Death. Mention of suicide. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 4.5K

A/N: Anna is vaguely described. Not mentioned in this chapter BUT Anna is adopted (this will be explicitly in the text later) and has no blood relation to Goldie.

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

November 14, 2010

“You sure we should really be here?” Tommy asked, looking over at Joel. 

“Course we should be here,” Joel replied, glancing at him and drying his sweaty palm on his black jeans. “We knew ‘er, too. Wouldn’t just be here to support… we’d be here anyway is what I’m saying.” 

“Right,” Tommy nodded. “OK.” 

The two of them were quiet, tucked away at the back of the funeral parlor. It wasn’t too packed with people, maybe two or three dozen, who were milling around, lining up to go look at your mom’s body. Joel couldn’t bring himself to do that part of it. He’d looked at his dad as he lay cold and still and now he had a hard time picturing him alive. He didn’t want to do that again. 

“She’s gonna be here, right?” Tommy whispered. “I mean… Rhode Island is far and she hasn’t been back since, right?” 

“It’s her mom” Joel whispered back. “Course she’ll be here.” 

He looked back over his shoulder anyway. He wasn’t nearly as confident as he sounded. 

Joel hoped you’d be here. It made sense that you would be. He hadn’t seen you in years. It had been so long he’d started to forget what you sounded like. It was like one day, just after prom, you decided he wasn’t a part of your life anymore and that was that. A switch he didn’t know existed had flipped and his whole life turned upside down with it. 

He almost hadn’t known your mother died. Your fucking mother, the woman who fed him dinner more times than he could count, who called him Joely, who tugged on the ends of his curls when his hair got long and told him to not be shy, to take what he wanted from her kitchen because her home was his home, too. She’d died and he almost hadn’t even heard about it. He wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for a text from your sister. 

Hey Joel, it’s Anna. She wouldn’t want me to tell you this but I think that’s bullshit. Our mom died a few days ago, the funeral is Sunday. Thought you might want to know. Hope you’re doing OK <;3 

It sent him reeling more than anything else related to you had in so long. How could he not have known? That something so big could happen to you and he was just living his life as though things were normal? That he wasn’t helping you through it? He should be helping you through it. 

But it hurt in other ways, too. It made him realize that, really, he was nothing to you. He wasn’t even your fucking Facebook friend. If something happened to you across the country, if you were in a car accident or you needed your appendix out, no one would tell him. He’d never know about it. You could die and it would be a normal day for him because he was nothing to you and no one would tell him that the most important person in the world was gone. 

Before too long, people started finding their seats and Joel fought to not turn around and watch the doors, looking for you. But he still glanced back when you did come in, trailing behind a small cluster of people that looked vaguely familiar. He realized he probably met them at some family event or another, at a birthday party or BBQ because, for three years, you were only ever apart when you had to be. 

And then there you were. You were wearing a black dress with black tights and black high heels and your eyes were red but your face was firm. There was a man beside you, one whose arm you clutched tight and Joel resisted the urge to glare at him. You didn’t even glance at Joel.

Anna came in behind you. She didn’t bother with the pretense of pretending not to cry, little trails of mascara running down her cheeks. But she smiled tightly at Joel and mouthed “hi” and he gave her a sad smile in return. 

Joel watched as you, Anna and that fucking man settled into the front row, his arm going around your shoulders and tugging you against his side. Joel barely listened to the officiant at first, too busy focusing on you. You kept turning your head to look up at the man next to you and at one point he leaned over and kissed your temple and whispered in your ear. Joel ground his teeth. 

But it was easy to pay attention when you got up to give your eulogy. You pulled your gold notebook out of your bag and carried it up to the podium. Your eyes were still red - he could see that, even from the back of the room - and your shoulders were hunched as you arranged the notebook in front of you. But you took a deep, shaky breath and looked up, back straightening and chin jutting out in defiance, jaw set tight. 

“If I had to find one word to summarize my mother, it would be try,” you said. “She was made up of try, I think. She was always trying to make things better for my sister and I, always trying to build the life she wanted… I guess, in the end, trying just became too much for her…” 

Your voice never wavered. It was stronger than Joel remembered but the tone and cadence were so familiar, so like home. Your eyes were red but you didn’t cry. You just stood there, fingers tight on your notebook that you only ever glanced down at, anyway. 

Joel wanted to get up and hug you. You looked like you needed a hug. More than a hug. You looked like you needed someone to carry you for a while, like you needed someone to take you by the shoulders, look you in the eye and say “It’s OK. I’ll take it from here. Rest.” You needed it so much that Joel started to stand up, instinctively, when you finished your speech and headed back to your seat but the man you came in with met you near the podium, putting his arm around you and kissing the top of your head. Joel sat back down. 

“She did good,” Tommy whispered as Joel stared straight ahead. For the first time, your eyes met his. 

“Yeah,” Joel said, not looking away. “She did.” 

After the service, there was a receiving line and Joel held Tommy back. He wondered if, maybe, he could get you alone that way. But that fucking guy was on you like glue, one of his hands on the small of your back he entire time. He was constantly directing you, constantly nudging you where he wanted you to be, adjusting you to stand how he wanted you to stand. Joel wanted to fucking punch him. 

“Thank you for coming,” Anna smiled a little at him, her blue eyes lacking their usual spark. “I know it’s been a while but… well, Mom just loved you.” 

Joel’s throat got tight. 

“I loved her, too,” he said. “She was a great lady. Really.” 

“Yeah,” Anna said, her voice wet as she looked back toward the casket. “Yeah, she was.” 

Joel glanced at you, your fingers in a tight fist around the man’s shirt, your lips at his ear as he frowned a little. Anna looked back at him and followed his eyes. 

“Don’t get me started,” she said, her voice low. “Mom wasn’t huge on him…” 

Joel shook hands quickly with one of your aunts and then he was in front of you. He glanced over at the man and realized he recognized him. The man had to be twice your age, hair going gray and crows feet around his eyes. His chest got tight. 

“Joel,” you said, one arm crossed over the front of yourself, clutching onto your opposite elbow. “Good of you to come.”

“Course,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to shake your hand or not. What did you do with the person who was once your best friend, the person you lost your virginity to, when you hadn’t spoken in years? “Always loved your mom. She was always nicer to me than I deserved.” 

You huffed at that and the man pressed a little closer to you, his hand firmly planted on your lower back. You stood up straighter before you looked toward Tommy and your face softened a little. “Good to see you Tommy. How’s school going?”

“OK,” he shrugged. “I’m passing. Missed you.” 

You smiled ever so slightly. 

“Missed you, too.” 

“You could come visit, you know,” Tommy said. 

“Tommy,” Joel hissed and he just looked up at him. 

“What! She could.” 

“It’s not a great time for me to be leaving school,” you said. “I’ve got classes all year and writing intensives all summer… I’m not sure when I’ll be back again.” 

“Not even to see Anna?” Joel frowned. 

“Anna can always come visit us,” the man at your back said. “Sorry to cut the reunion short but we should keep things moving…” 

“We’re last in line,” Tommy protested. 

“And the family needs to get to the reception,” the man said. “I’m sure you can share your thoughts there.” 

“Right,” Joel said, looking from the man to you. “Sure we can. C’mon Tommy.” 

“But…” 

“Let’s go,” Joel cut him off. “Don’t want to be rude.” 

Joel looked back over his shoulder to you when he made it to the doors, your head bowed and the man’s large hand at the nape of your neck. 

“Guy’s an asshole,” Tommy muttered as he climbed in Joel’s truck. 

“Yeah, well,” he sighed, grinding his teeth a little. “Goldie always had shit taste in men.” 

Joel felt like he deserved a goddamn medal for sitting there, watching you with that fucking guy, silent at a table with your family, family made up of Anna and people he didn’t know. Because, besides Anna, they weren’t your fucking family. He was. Him and Tommy. 

He kept watching for a moment to try to get you alone, some point where you were away from that man who kept fucking pawing at you and who looked like he was old enough to be your fucking father. He tried not to think about how shitty that was. To corner you at your mother’s funeral and force you to talk to him. But it was hard to really care. 

The time for etiquette was long passed. He missed you. He kept thinking that, eventually, the feeling would fade. That he’d wake up in the morning and think of something besides you. That he’d stop looking for signs of you everywhere and in everything. That, eventually, some day, you wouldn’t be the first person he thought of talking to when he had a shit day or when something good happened to him. He couldn’t keep going like this, going on without the answers he should have fucking marched up to you and demanded years ago. Joel wasn’t the type to think the world owed him things but fuck, didn’t you? Didn’t you owe him something? Didn’t being inseparable things whose roots and branches had become so intertwined that one couldn’t live without the other mean that you had to at least tell him before you cut yourself away? You certainly didn’t seem to think so. He disagreed.

And then you came home with that guy, that fucking guy, the one who couldn’t possibly be good enough for you and you let him touch you and hold you and control you during what Joel knew had to be one of the worst times of your life. Did that guy even know? Did he know that your mom took you prom dress shopping and adjusted the hemline herself at the sewing machine in your living room? Did he know how you carefully removed the screen of your bedroom window to climb out of it so your mom wouldn’t hear you open the front door when you left to lay in the bed of Joel’s truck and star gaze at the park? Did he know how sad and kind your mother’s face was when she told him that you’d left town, moved to Rhode Island months earlier than planned, when he came by your house a few days after prom to demand answers? 

Did you?

Eventually, you stood up and leaned down to whisper in the man’s ear and you left the room. The man watched you go and Joel waited for a moment before he followed you. The door you’d gone through led to a hall with bathrooms and an exit to the parking lot and he took a guess, hovering outside the ladies’ room door. He was right, and you nearly walked into him a minute later. 

“Shit,” you said, sniffling a little. “Sorry…” 

“S’OK,” he said quickly. “Thought I’d check on you. See if you wanted a drink.” 

“A drink?” you raised your eyebrows at him. He had the strangest urge to trace the arch of them with his thumb. 

“Yup,” he pulled his flask ever so slightly from his inside leather jacket pocket before tucking it away again. “Bullshit that the person who probably coordinated this whole thing can’t even fucking drink for it. Thought you could use one.” 

“Jesus, could I ever,” you said, looking around quickly. “C’mon.” 

You took his hand as though everything was normal and pulled him along behind you to the door, shoving it roughly open before stepping out into the cool November air. 

“Oh shit, one sec,” you said, hovering by the door for a moment, holding it open with one hand and balancing on one foot. Joel laughed. 

“What the fuck are you doin’ Goldie?” 

“Making sure we don’t get locked out,” you replied, pulling your heel off and putting your shoe between the door and the frame, closing the heavy metal door delicately to make sure it stayed propped open. You limped awkwardly for a few steps before Joel just shook his head and went to you, looping his arm around your waist and half carrying you to the little partial wall that separated the restaurant from the parking lot. He set you down there and watched as you rolled and turned your ankle for a moment before stretching your foot out to a point. “Never buy heels, Joel. They’re not worth the pain.” 

“Noted,” he smiled a little and pulled the flask out of his coat pocket before sitting beside you. He handed it to you first and you looked at it for a moment, smiling a little. 

“This is familiar,” you said, a hint of fondness in your voice. 

“Yeah but I bought the booze this time,” Joel said. You nodded slowly as you took a sip. You winced a little as it went down and handed it back to him. He looked at it for a moment, his finger tracing the neck of it. The metal shined a little, wet with you and the rum. He brought it to his lips, taking a drink. “So… how’re things?” 

“You mean besides the fact that I’m here instead of working on final projects because my mom decided to slit her wrists in the bathtub?” You asked, brows raised. “Just peachy.” 

“Sorry,” Joel flinched, handing you the flask again. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “That was a stupid question.” 

You shrugged. 

“And how are you?” You asked, pulling your arms in tight to yourself. “I know it’s… it’s been a while…” 

“Well, someone I know changed their damn phone number,” Joel said, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over your shoulders. “But shit’s same as always. Or same as always for the last few years, anyway. Tommy is doing good in school right now. Got a job with some pretty steady work.” 

You frowned, tugging the coat a little tighter to yourself. Joel was reminded of when you’d borrow his letterman years ago, how the sleeves swallowed your fingers because his arms were long enough that they had to special order his size. You’d always looked so fragile there, in his coat. You’d always looked so protected there, too.

“Did you already get your associates?” You took drink and handed the flask back. 

“Nah,” he said, taking it. “Decided not to bother. What’s the point, just flunk out in a semester, maybe two. Figured I’d save myself a lot of grief and money and just cut to the chase, you know?” 

He took a drink.

“That’s bullshit,” you said, gaping at him. “Joel, come on, it’s just two years, you can…” 

“I can what?” He cut you off. “I can fuck around at community college, act like I was ever gonna amount to anything…” 

“Of course you’re going to amount to something,” you interrupted him this time. “You already amount to something and…” 

“I amount to something?” He asked, voice getting heated. “Really? Is that why you took off without a fuckin’ word? Just ditched me here, blocked me on fucking Facebook, changed your fuckin’ number? Because I amount to so damn much…” 

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t what!” He was on his feet now and you flinched at his raised voice. “Don’t talk about it? Don’t point out the fucking obvious? Don’t actually hold you accountable for your shitty actions?” 

“My shitty actions?” You gaped at him before you laughed darkly. “Oh wow, that’s fucking rich coming from you…” 

“Yeah, yours!” He yelled. “Because I sure as shit don’t know what the fuck I did…” 

“Bullshit you don’t know what you did,” you snapped. “Come on, Joel, don’t pretend that you’re dumb. Don’t pretend that I’m dumb. We both know…” 

“I don’t know shit! I don’t know a fuckin’ thing when it comes to you, Goldie! I know you left! I know your mom wouldn’t give me your number! I know you apparently never even fucking thought about me…” 

“You don’t know a goddamn thing…” 

“I do know that you showed up here with that fucking guy!” He pressed on. “What the fuck is that? How old is he, hm?” 

“It’s not your fucking business!” 

“Should be someone’s fucking business!” He snapped. “Because he has to be, what, twice your age?” 

“So what if he is? I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want…” 

“An adult,” he laughed but there was no humor in it. “Adult, you can’t even buy your own fucking booze and you’re, what, fucking some 50-year-old man? What is he, your fucking professor, that it?” 

“He’s 40!” You snapped, on your feet, awkwardly off balance with your missing shoe. “And who cares how I met him, he thinks I’m smart! He wants to be around me, he looks out for me, he…” 

“He’s takin’ advantage of you is what he’s fuckin’ doing!” Joel’s chest was heaving. “Been watching him control you all goddamn day! You really think he cares about you? Knows you? You’re just gonna be one of many to him, Goldie, he probably does this with every pretty girl in his damn classes…” 

“Does he propose to them?” Your left hand flew in between you, palm facing you as you held it up. There was a large, solitary oval diamond on your ring finger. Joel felt sick. “I’m not just some girl to him, I’m not just another lay in a long line of lays. He loves me, he respects me and I love him and I don’t need your fucking judgement, Joel.” 

“Doll?” Joel’s head whipped around to see that fucking guy poking his head out of the door you’d propped open with your missing shoe. “Everything OK?” 

“Fine,” you smiled a little and shrugged out of Joel’s coat, handing it back to him. “Just needed some air.” 

“Folks are looking for you,” he said, looking over at Joel for a moment. “Should get back.” 

“Right,” you said, taking a deep breath for a moment before looking back at Joel. “Good to catch up, I guess. You really should think about getting your associates at least. It’d do you good.” 

You didn’t wait for him to respond, limping awkwardly for the door before delicately putting your foot into the black pump as your fucking fiance held onto you. 

Joel gave himself a few minutes to calm down before going back inside and finding Tommy. 

He didn’t stay. 

Instead, he dropped Tommy at his mom’s house and headed to the bar near his apartment that he liked best. He played there sometimes, just him and his voice and his guitar, knowing full well that there’d never be a record label scout in the crowd but it felt good pretending. 

It was still early, the bar pretty dead, and he took a seat off to the side before ordering a Shiner. He sat there, grinding his teeth and trying not to think of you with him. It wasn’t even that he got to be with you all the time instead of Joel. If you didn’t want Joel, fine, he wasn’t going to force himself on you but fuck, couldn’t you see what was right in front of you? That you deserved better than that? 

“Hey.” 

Joel almost jumped at the sound of someone next to him. He turned to find a woman there, about the same age as him. She was beautiful, with dark skin and curly hair and eyes it would be very easy to get lost in if he could get lost in anything right then. 

“Hey,” he replied, looking back toward the bar and taking another sip of his beer. 

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked. 

Joel shrugged. 

“Thanks,” she said, climbing up on the stool next to him. “Don’t really feel like dealing with the attention I get when I sit by myself but I desperately needed a drink…” 

She leaned over the bar and flagged down the bartender before ordering a whiskey on the rocks. 

“That good a day?” Joel asked after a moment. 

“Something like that,” she sighed. Jimmy, the bartender, set her drink in front of her and she took a sip before sighing. “Looks like about the same for you.” 

“Yup,” he said. 

“Want to talk about it?” She asked after a moment. 

“Not really,” he replied. She nodded. “You?” 

“No,” she said. “I’m Ashley, by the way.” 

“Joel.” 

“Good to meet you, Joel,” she smiled a little. 

He sat there with her for a while. He liked her well enough, he supposed. She was nice and lightly funny in a way that didn’t cut him deep. But when she smiled, she smiled like you. Slow and easy at first and then spreading wide like your whole self was cracking open with it. Fuck, he’d always loved making you smile like that. He missed making you smile like that. 

So when he finished his beer and didn’t want to be away from that smile, not yet, he asked if she wanted to come back to his place. 

“Sure,” she smiled like you. “That’d be nice.” 

They skipped the pretense of it, not bothering to feel each other up on the couch or make a pot of coffee that would sit untouched until morning. Instead, they went straight to his bedroom, pawing at each other’s clothes and pulling their bodies free of their confines as quickly as possible. 

Joel kissed her deep and hard and desperate and she pressed her soft, plush body against his and it felt good, getting lost in another person like this. It seemed like the only time in his life that he wasn’t stuck living at least halfway in some other reality where things had turned out different was when he was inside someone else. He sought it out like an addict, always searching for that next high, anything that would put him far away from the low he lived in. But he was careful. Always used a condom, always got at least some feel for the woman he was fucking first so he felt like he could trust her. 

But he was reckless with Ashley. He needed to feel something else too bad to put much thought into any of it. He reached for his nightstand and fumbled in the top drawer, pulling the last condom from the box and making a mental note to buy more when he got paid next. He tore it with his teeth and realized too late that he’d caught more than just the foil pack when he did.

“Fuck,” he panted, already naked on top of her. “Do you have…” 

“No,” she said, all breathless and needy below him. “But it’s OK. I’m on the pill and I’m clean. I’m OK with it if you are.” 

He looked down at her in the darkness, the moonlight casting shadows over her face. But then she smiled at him, slow at first then all at once. Just like you. 

“Really,” she said. “It’s fine.” 

“Fuck it,” he said, lining himself up with her entrance, the soft, wet heat of her pulling him in. 

“That’s the idea,” she smiled and then gasped as he pushed into her, chasing that high with her body below him. 

He fucked into her until she came and then she pushed him on his back, fucking herself down on him and Joel looked up at her and got the sense that she was in this for the same reasons he was. That this had very little to do with him. 

“Gonna come,” he warned, his hands on her waist. “Should pull out…” 

“Don’t,” she panted. “About to come again, fuck, just… just let me…” 

Her hands spread wide on his chest and she rode him harder, faster before pushing him in deep and coming around him, the pulsing of her walls setting off his orgasm, only aware enough to care for half a second before it hit that he shouldn’t be coming inside a total fucking stranger. 

She collapsed on top of him and he held her for a moment, not able to shake the feeling that he’d just made a monumental mistake. It reminded him of the morning after prom, the morning after the last time he came inside someone without protection. How afraid he’d been that he’d ruined things for you, that he’d gotten you pregnant and destroyed your life. But he hadn’t. At least, not that he knew of. He just lost you instead.

Ashley left not long after, just a quick “Thanks, Joel. That was fun.” after he gave her a glass of water. They swapped phone numbers but, in the moment, it seemed like pretense. This was what you did after a one night stand to pretend like it wasn’t a one night stand. It felt better if you could lie to yourself and say that every random fuck was just the start of a relationship that didn’t pan out. He didn’t plan to call her. He didn’t expect to hear from her again. 

He was wrong. 

Next Chapter

A/N: We all know what happened there with Ashley, right?

OK, cool.

Hope you all enjoyed this little glimpse at the last time Joel and Goldie saw each other before they reunited at the same bar where Joel picked up Sarah's mom 12 years earlier! These two, they kill me, I swear.

Thanks so much for reading the menace that is high school best friend!Joel. I'm in love with him, I fear. I hope you are, too.

Love you!

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Part 3

🚨18+Only, biker!Eddie, tow truck driver!Eddie, adult themes, mentions of smut, angst, mutual pining, slow burn, cheating (not on reader), alcohol consumption, flirting, mention of biker!Steve Harrington, 90's music & nostalgia, mention of a loved one with cancer, self-deprecation, eventual smut. Reader and Eddie are late 20's-early 30's

Word count: 5k

Series Masterlist

🔸Reader and Eddie are pining for each other in secret, and reader takes bold initiative to bring Eddie a gift. The two of you keep crossing paths as this crush intensifies and complications arise.

A/N: Always look forward to hearing from you all, what you thought, or what you'd like to see happen 👀

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Steve called a day or two after the initial meetup, but Katie was headed to a conference out of the state, so they didn’t make any immediate plans. The conversation started in the living room where she first picked up the phone; she made a wild hand gesture, arm pivoting from side to side at the elbow, mouthing his name to you so that you would know who it was, and then she switched to the phone in her bedroom. They talked for over an hour, and he told her he’d check back in when she was back from her trip.

“Okay, so Steve thinks that Eddie has a little crush on you,” Katie told you when she came back out to give you the recap. “He said you might have to make the first move, though.”

Your heart fluttered, but you tried to play it cool. You looked up from your magazine. “Please tell me you didn’t spend the entire time talking about me?”

“Oh, of course not,” Katie shrugged. “Only a half hour or so.”

“If I were Eddie, I’d be pissed if my friend spilled the beans like that,” you said with a tilt of your head.

“I told Steve I wouldn’t tell you he said that,” she countered.

“Well, that makes it better.”

“Steve is a really…” Katie hesitated, trying to find the right descriptive as she plopped back down on the couch. “...intelligent, charming guy. I don’t know, maybe I’ll go out with him when I get back. If he asks like a gentleman.”

“Maybe?”

“Probably.”

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The next week came and went. You were busy, so you didn’t have much of a chance to think about the possibility that Eddie might have a crush on you.

No, that was a lie: you thought about it a lot. The bad part was, this whole feeling a chemical pull towards him was a distraction that you didn’t need in your life, and it made you do creepy, irrational things, like driving by Munson’s Garage one day after work just to see if you could get a glimpse of him.

The good part was, it had you feverishly painting until after midnight a few days in a row. You were feeling inspired for the first time in months, and even if you still had to be at work at 9am looking like death warmed over, it was worth it.

On Thursday afternoon, you were at the gallery preparing a huge piece of art to be shipped out of the country when you heard it: the unmistakable purring growl of a chopper gunning down your street. You let the corner of the box fall to the ground with a heavy thud, eliciting a horrific yowl from your assistant who had been helping you wrap it up meticulously for the past hour, and sprang to the window like a little girl at the distant tinkle of Santa’s bells.

There were three of them atop their menacing leather and chrome beasts, but they were already disappearing around a corner at the other end of the street by the time you got there. The next thing you knew, you were out on the sidewalk with your hand up to block the sun, squinting, trying to see if one of them had long, dark hair. The high pitched whine of a car alarm shrilled in the distance, and a woman pushing a baby stroller had to go around, eyeballing you with disdain as she went.

---------

Meanwhile, Eddie was seeing you in the face of every woman he met, and simultaneously looking forward to the day when that was not the case. He didn’t have the energy to pine over someone, let alone have issues performing in bed because the woman wasn’t you. Having sex with other women was starting to feel like cheating, and that was an icky, embarrassing truth that he would never confess to one of his buddies.

“Oh? You can’t stop thinking about her when you fuck other women? Damn, that pussy must be tight.”

You were basically a figment of his imagination, and he was having these really gross daydreams about just….holding your hand and shit like that. Not cool, not bad ass. Jerking off to a porn or the idea of some nameless, faceless mouth on his cock was fine, but doing it to the idea of tasting your cum while his mouth was between your legs made him want to lobotomize himself with Jack Daniels.

This was dangerous, bitch-boy territory, and he honestly couldn’t say he’d navigated it in almost a decade. Maybe he’d been hanging out with Steve “Loverboy” Harrington for too long, listening to him get all goo-goo ga-ga over some new chick every other week. But also, he envied him; Steve didn’t just sip the juice when it was good, he let himself drown in it, over and over again.

Eddie shrugged it off and acted like he didn’t care the day Steve told him that he talked to your roommate, but then he came back around a few hours later and asked him if he was planning to meet up with her again. “You should call her friend,” Steve told you. “She digs you, Katie told me.” Katie told him no such thing, as she had a very strict girl code, but Steve couldn’t help himself.

So yeah, Eddie drove by your work on Thursday. Innocent enough, but the part of town where you worked was very high-end, and nowhere near the place him and the boys were headed, but nevertheless, he gave the signal and they followed. One of his buddies ran with the Coffin Kings---a bearded monster they called Tank----and he got a kick out of rumbling his hog close to the expensive cars parked along the street to shake the foundation and make their alarms go off.

He didn’t even turn his head to see through the glass storefront and check if you were inside, that wasn’t the point: he just wanted to be in your orbit, to drive down a street that you parked on every day.

Holy shit, Munson, why don’t you just put your tap shoes on and break into song about it?

--------

On Friday, you left work early, announcing that you had a very important appointment, and then you went and sat in your car around the corner from Munson’s Garage for a half hour. It took you way too long to work up the courage, listening to an album by the band Hole, specifically the song Violet. A gang of bikers rolled up to the stop sign across from you, and you did a comical job of sliding down in your seat so they wouldn’t see you.

Once they were gone, you looked down at what you had in your lap; a gift wrapped up in brown butcher paper and tied with jute string. “This is so stupid,” you told yourself, putting your car in gear to drive away, but then you flipped it into park again with a pensive groan.

After a dramatic pause, cursing as you went, you circled the block one more time and then entered via the open gate at the side entrance. The main garage and supposed clubhouse for the Coffin Kings---the spot where you had dropped the boys off the week before---was to your left, but ahead of you was another garage, and the wide expanse of a junkyard full of wrecked cars behind a fence. Your eyes landed on the black tow truck that Eddie drove, giving you hope that you hadn’t missed him. A row of motorcycles were lined up in the middle of the pavement, and then to the right there were angled parking spots under an awning, and that is where you went.

Your stomach bleated its discontent when you saw that there were at least 10 or 12 guys in biker cuts hanging outside near the grill, flipping burgers in front of the main garage, blocking the entrance to where you would most likely find Eddie. They all had the Coffin Kings insignia placard on the back of their leather vests, and they were tossing back beers and taking shots. After you parked, you craned your neck to see if Eddie was one of them, but there were a few obscured by one of the pillars holding the roof up. Surely, he would’ve spotted your car as you inched along at an elderly crawl.

You took a minute to fix your hair and makeup in the visor mirror, practiced stretching your lips in a grimace smile a few times to make sure there was no lipstick on your teeth, and then made the leap.

-------

Eddie should’ve been down with the guys getting hammered, or having a game of pool in the club house after a long week, but no. He was on the second floor in his apartment, getting in some bench presses before he showered and continued on with his evening of laundry and trying to get to bed at a decent hour for once. He was listening to Slayer, but the widow was open and he could hear them all giving each other shit down below.

In between songs, at the end of a set, he heard a different type of ruckus going on outside and it made him sit up, sweat dripping into his eyes and down his neck. The guys were giving wolf whistles and saying something about “look at that fine piece of ass” and Eddie didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to go down and investigate.

That was when he opened the door and saw you making your way across the parking lot. You were carrying something flat and square in your hands and you looked like you were cautiously assessing the scene, like maybe you should return to the safety of your car, and he didn’t blame you.

“Cool it, fuckers,” Eddie told the guys as he pushed by some of them to go out and head over to meet you. But he could still hear them saying things to each other under their breath, whispering about you, and how good you looked.

He didn’t want you to be there, in that moment. Not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he didn’t want the other guys to think you were just some whore he was fucking, or worse yet---he didn’t want any of them to think that they could fuck you. He tried to walk toward you at the right angle so that you would be blocked from their view, inadvertently squaring his shoulders and asserting his dominance as he went.

-------

You had a feeling this was a bad idea, but you had no idea how bad until a dozen pairs of eyes were turning to stare at you, narrowing on you, and unabashedly so. You were too far away to hear what they were saying, and there was heavy metal music blaring from inside the building somewhere. You planted your feet, looking around, wondering what you would do if Eddie wasn’t there: hand over the cutsie little gift to one of his biker buddies? You didn’t want to embarrass him.

But then, the door opened and there he was, frowning at you like you were the last person on earth he wanted to see. It was more of a scowl, actually, eyebrows knitted together and upper lip rising in an abominable snarl. He said something to the rest of the guys, and a few of them seemed to snap back to reality, but he couldn’t wipe the pissed look off from his face as he made his way over to you with an air of reluctance.

He had on a white wife beater and jeans with his boots unlaced. The front of the tank was damp and his arm muscles were especially defined and swollen. You could see that he had some kind of huge, tattooed chest piece that came up to his clavicle and stretched over his shoulders. Various other ink decorated his arms; the one on his forearm being the most faded of them all. Your pussy fluttered at the sight of him, even though he looked like he was ready to put his hand around your throat. Or maybe because of it?

“What are you doing here?” He barked in a voice low enough so that only the two of you could hear it.

His attitude was not your favorite. “Well, hello to you too, grumpy.”

Now you wished you didn’t have the stupid gift in your hand. Couldn’t you have left it in the car and waited to see if he was here first? No, you had to bring it with you, and now it was too late, dummy.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder at the guys, jaw muscles flexing, and then he gestured for you to walk with him over to where your car was parked, under the awning, out of the overcast but bright sky.

He put a hand at your elbow and maneuvered you so that you were facing away from the riff raff, the view of your backside blocked by your car. There was a matte black Chevelle parked in the slot next to you, and he leaned back against it, crossing his arms at his chest.

“Sorry about that,” he told you. “We usually keep them locked up during the daytime.”

At his joke, your shoulders softened and you exhaled, flexing your fingers on the package. The movement caught his attention and his cocoa brown eyes shifted to the gift.

“You said to come by whenever, but I should’ve called,” you hadn’t planned out what you would say, but now you wished you had.

“No, no,” he assured you, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I promised you a spare tire. I haven’t forgotten.”

Truth, you had totally spaced that he said he’d give you a free tire, which was no small expense, but it was a much better reason than, “I made you something because I can’t stop thinking about you,” or “here’s a gift, now let’s kiss.”

“What’s that?” He asked the dreaded question, tilting his chin at the package and meeting your eyes down the end of his nose.

“Oh this?” You asked cheerily, feigning mock surprise, as if it slipped your mind that it was in your hand. “This is nothing. Just a thank you for...the tow and the tire. I made it, it’s no big deal.”

“You made it?” His voice flew to a higher octave than he was comfortable with at that revelation, and an invisible warm hand wrapped around his heart.

Scratching your eyebrow, you passed it to him. “You don’t have to open it here,” you added, hoping he wouldn’t.

He held it in both hands, strong fingers curling around the backside as his thumbs stroked the front of it to feel the texture of the paper. It had been a while since he’d received a thoughtful gift that wasn’t booze or scratch tickets or a Hickory Farms sausage and cheese platter.

Overall, he was speechless, but one thing that did come second nature to him was offering acts of service as a way of showing his appreciation. “Let me take this up to my place, and then I’ll get you that tire. Can you wait here? I’ll just be a second.”

He was already on the move, but you stopped him. “I can’t sorry, I have to go. Rain check?”

You put your hand on the crook of his elbow without thinking, to stop him, and then all you could think about was the heat of his skin, the way the hair on his forearm tickled your finger. His eyes went to your hold on him and his Adam’s apple jerked in a quick swallow.

You lowered your hand. “Maybe I’ll surprise you again one day,” you were blushing now and you moved your chin to your chest to try and hide it. This was feeling less and less like an interaction between two grown adults, and more like some high school crush that you giggled about to your friends and wrote little hearts around each others name in class.

Over your shoulder, Eddie could see that Wayne was coming that way with an invoice in his hand, probably to ask him a question about one of the pickups that day. He looked a bit pale and peaked, and even though Eddie begged him to take the day off work whenever he had chemo treatments, the old man refused to listen.

“Okay, so, I’ll see you around then,” Eddie heard it come out of his mouth and he wished he could take it back. The tone was off; he sounded like he didn’t care if he saw you again, but that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“Okay, bye,” and you were back behind the wheel of your car, panting, wishing you had a paper bag to hyperventilate into. In the rear view mirror, you watched an older man with gray hair meet up with Eddie. His clothes were baggy, as if he’d suddenly dropped a significant amount of weight. Eddie clapped his free hand on the older man’s shoulder and they walked back to the garage together at a slow pace, your gift in his hand swinging level with his wallet chain.

--------

After finishing up for Wayne and demanding that he go home to get some rest, Eddie was finally alone again in his apartment. The string you used to secure the package might as well have been steel bars with how tight it was tied, and so he reached over for the butterfly knife on his nightstand and popped it open with a few flicks of his wrist. He sawed the string with caution, careful not to puncture whatever was in it.

His heart was racing and his palms were a little sweaty, and for some reason, the rising of sweet emotions made him angry. Just settle down there, bucko, the voice in his head told him, she probably gives gifts to anyone who does anything remotely nice for her; this doesn’t make you special.

He touched the black painted edges first, realizing it was a canvas, and then the back side fell open to him first: To: Eddie, my hero, and then it was dated and had your name signed on the wood cradling.

Turning it over, he had no idea what to expect, but as his eyes took it in, a quivering sigh escaped his lips.

It was a piece of art depicting the sunset exploding from beyond the low hills in Hawkins; the view you see from the freeway from the exact spot where you had blown your tire, the spot where the two of you had met for the first time. It wasn’t just a standard scenery painting either; it was abstract and full of texture, with tiny bits of paper collage added in. Bright, bold colors, with tiny hand drawn details.

He took down his framed Dio poster so that he could hang your 12x12 painting across from his bed where he could see it from all angles of the room. He puffed his cheeks out and blew air from his lips to make a low whistling sound as he stood there admiring it, wishing he would’ve opened it in front of you, so that you would know how much he cherished it. You might never know how much a gift like this meant to him; it was immediately one of his prized possessions.

Absently, he crumpled the wrapping paper and string up in his hands, pounding it into a compact ball, so that he could make a jump shot for the trash can, and then made it in with a swoosh.

What he didn’t see crushed inside the ball was the square, pink piece of paper with a little note on it that said: “I know Steve has this number, but I also wanted you to have it. Call me sometime.” and then your phone number in cute, block digits.

-----------

Another week went by, and you had officially resigned yourself to the fact that you would, indeed, die alone. Putting yourself out there, even as infinitesimally as you had with Eddie, almost killed you. Getting excited every time the phone rang, hoping it was him, had you regretting the choice to ever make a move in the first place. Besides Katie, you were the only single person in your friend group, and that’s just how it would stay until Keifer Sutherland proposed.

Steve called Katie though, and even though she had the feeling he was a bit of a player, the idea of jumping on his cock had her chomping at the bit.

“Are you sure?” Katie asked as she dowsed herself with hairspray in the bathroom mirror, an L7 cassette in the tape player. You were just behind her in the hallway, and you leaned back to avoid the fumes. “I can hang out with Steve a different night, I don’t want you do go to Marysville alone.”

Marysville was a town down the road, not fifteen miles away, and there was a huge gallery opening in an old airplane hangar, and as the manager of Moon River Gallery, you were forced to attend.

“That’s sweet of you, but Jeff will be there.” You held your breath and waved your hand in front of your face. “But I’m counting on you to get laid for the both of us.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to let Steve know what a deadbeat his buddy Eddie is for not calling you to even thank you for that gorgeous painting.” Katie was using her protective mom voice.

“Please don’t,” you begged her. “He just didn’t want to see me again, and that’s fine. I don’t need someone to call me out of obligation. Really, don’t mention anything to Steve or I will turn to stone and crumble to pieces.”

Katie went into your bedroom instead of hers, and held up a certain shirt, asking if she could borrow it. “That’s actually yours,” you told her, waiting on the bed as she changed.

You were putting your arms into your jacket, just about to head out the door, when Katie came around the corner holding up flavored condoms and Magnums in each hand. “Do you want to take any of these with you? Plenty of cute guys in Marysville.”

“No, thank you,” you assured her politely, fixing your collar. “Besides, I’m sure Jeff will have a stockpile with him.”

But Katie threw one at you anyway, and you caught it with a slap to your chest. “Here, just take one of these Magnums, for prayer’s sake.”

----------

The airplane hanger gallery was situated near the lake, and it was an unarguably stunning venue full of massive artworks and expertly blown glass. You and Jeff arrived together, but went your separate ways initially, both stumbling upon friends from other galleries you knew, and you sipped some expensive champagne while you mingled. You were bent over, reading the details about one of the paintings, when two of the new people arriving caught your eye.

Fantastic, it was Eddie and Charlene.

Charlene looked like she was a movie star about to walk the red carpet and Eddie looked as good as ever. From the waist down was dressed like normal: jeans, boots, and wallet chain--but he always put a nice dark red or black shirt on for the events. Three buttons undone down the front to give a peak of that chest tattoo, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a little earring dangling from one ear, and those chunky, silver rings on his hand. Obviously the two of them were a couple, regardless of the fact that she was married, and regardless of the fact that Eddie referred to himself as being single.

He escorted her in with his arm linked in hers, and you could tell he was about to fall back and head outside to wait, but then his eyes locked on you. You turned your back on him, guzzled your champagne, and then headed over to where you could get a big glass of wine, thirstier than you’ve ever been in your life. Jeff had volunteered to drive you both back, and you had just decided in that moment that you were going to let him.

You were a couple of swallows in when you felt the front of his warm body press up at your side, against your arm, hands in his pockets, and then he leaned his head down closer, wavy dark hair skimming your shoulder, to whisper in your ear. “Your art should be in a place like this.”

“Oh hiiiiii,” you turned, pretending to be shocked to see him. “What a nice surprise. How are you?”

He backed up a step to give you some room, not checking even once to see where Charlene was or if she cared where he was; his eyes were intent on you.

Jeff, was off to the side, flirting with one of the guys on the catering staff, when he glanced over to see who you were standing with, and his eyes bulged wide.

“You clean up good,” you told Eddie, getting intoxicated on how delicious he smelled. Almost two glasses of alcohol in, you were already getting ballsy, and you reached up to brush his hair back from his shoulder and straighten his collar. “You look like you could run for mayor.”

He glanced down at himself, and then met your gaze from under his lashes, full pink lips curving up on one side. “I was going for Colombian drug lord, but I guess I missed the mark.”

Okay, so he made you laugh and he was sexy. So what.

Someone you knew came up to hug you and say hello, and you expected Eddie to take advantage of the moment and make a getaway, but he stayed.

“Can I get you another one?” He asked, gesturing to your almost empty glass. Never mind that everyone was glancing over at him, asking themselves with shifting eyes who the hell let the scary biker dude in to mingle with the rich people. The irony of a bunch of art snobs recoiling at someone who brought something new and different to the table was not lost on you. Sure, he made them uncomfortable, but who would be the one to ask bad boy biker Eddie Munson to leave? Eddie could flick his lighter open and set one of the paintings on fire, and still no one would question him.

“Aren’t you here with someone?” You asked, glancing around for that big gold explosion of wealth that was Charlene.

“No,” Eddie said initially, but then. “Well, I drive for Charlene from time to time but we’re not...together, if that’s what you mean.”

Eddie could feel Charlene giving him the evil eye from across the room, but he didn’t care. He stopped having sex with her two weeks ago, but he wasn’t ready to give up the extra cash working as her personal escort service and hired muscle.

Staying sober for the night, he brought another glass of wine over to you, and then he started asking you questions about the artwork and the artists as the two of you walked.

“Isn’t that Charlene Gregson’s boy toy?” Manny, one of the caterers, asked Jeff as they watched the two of you flirt with each other.

Jeff nodded, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh, this is going to be juicy.”

There was a snap high on the back of your shirt, and you could feel that it had come loose, so you beckoned for Eddie to follow you to the walkway just beyond the paintings, into the shadows, so you could put your glass down on the cement base of one of the pillars.

“Could you...help me with this?” You turned your back to him and pulled your hair to the side. “Fasten this for me, please? I can’t reach it.”

Eddie licked his lips as he closed in behind you, enjoying the proximity of it, and moved his fingers to your neck, callouses from his fingers grazing your smooth skin, taking an audible, deep intake of breath as he caught a whiff of your shampoo. When he was done, his hand slid down your back, indulging himself, letting it land at the curve of your hip in a slow circle. “All good,” he said in a low whisper.

You spun around to face him with a crooked smile, the alcohol in full affect, and your eyes fell on a loose thread that had escaped and was resting on his crisp, dark red shirt, your eyes lingering on the black ink of the tattoo underneath.

You brought your hand up to pick the thread off, but then he caught your wrist, your palm sinking flat to his body, melting, right at the epicenter of his life blood; his heart racing. You shifted your gaze from his grip to meet his eyes, pupils dilated, and your breath caught in your chest; your fingers started stretching out and back against him in an alien form of physical communication.

His lips parted, gaze flicking to your mouth, holding your wrist with a grip that was firm but tender while his other hand rose to cup your face. Rough fingertips grazing your throat until they curled around the base of your head, metal rings clicking together, and then his thumb brushed across your jawline.

You bit your bottom lip softly, delirious need pulsing in your core.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Your voice was tiny, and his eyebrows knitted together, confused. You could see he was just about to say something, but then:

“Eddie,” the unmistakable voice of Charlene Gregson called to him from the other side of the gigantic painting you were both doing a poor job of hiding behind. “It’s time to go. Please pull the car around?"

She was looking directly at the two of you from only a few yards away, with her hands on her hips, but still he held your palm to his chest and searched your eyes, trying to understand. After a beat, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry,” under his breath before turning on his heel to go and play chauffeur again, shoving one hand in his pocket to get the keys as he went.

Charlene stood there and stared at you for a bit longer, her eyes taking you in from head to foot, probably trying to understand what you had that she didn’t. But it must’ve occurred to her that she was the one he was going home with and not you, because then she flipped you a little sly smile and puffed a laugh out of her nose as she turned, shaking her head.

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Part 4

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my lovelies who asked to be tagged: @hellv1ra, @tlclick73, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @ms1oftheboys

[fandomfluffandfuck]

STEVE SINGING OLD IRISH SONGS TO HIS BABY JUST LIKE HIS MOM DID FOR HIM

I physically need to hear Steve softly sing Báidín Fheilimí while slowly rocking a sleepy little one

I think it’s canon that Steve is the son of Irish immigrants, so he absolutely speaks at least a little bit. Maybe he learned the songs from his mom, and now he’s singing them hoping to be half as good a parent as she was

If you're curious to hear the song, like me, here's a version I quickly found on YouTube performed by na Casaidigh (there's also English translation in the description)

JESUS CHRIST

Y-E-S.

You are so fucking correct. Steve needs to sing softly (in general, I would kill to see that on screen) in his native tongue to the tiniest newborn swaddled tight, looking extra little in Steve's big and protective but endlessly gentle arms while Bucky sleepily watches from the doorway, leaned up against the wooden frame, covertly wiping his watering eyes. I need that. Because, yes, exactly, Steve's a mamma's boy and would be truly an unfairly incredible parent.

It's definitely canon that Sarah Rogers, at least, was Irish and immigrated to America. I believe Joseph Rogers was an American soldier who was, then, American. That may or may not be canon and probably depends on the comic run you're looking at? But-! Yes, I've heard lots floating around about Steve and his Irish heritage.

Along with that, I've seen lots of posts about if Steve was speaking Gaelic at home or not, if Sarah would've risked that at the time or said fuck the man. I tried to find one in particular that delved into Steve's Irishness and his disability, mentioning that with Steve's hearing being weak/absent in one ear, he likely would've struggled with pronouncing words, and that would've been added to if he were speaking Gaelic at home, adding to his accent and likely getting him bullied at school, but... I couldn't find it again :(

(This post about gaeilge is the closest I could get, and it is still a great post!)

(Or this, about other languages)

Plus, touching on Sarah Rogers and more posts I've seen but can't track down because Tumblr's search function sucks, I've even seen posts going around that say according to certain comic runs, there is talks about/hints at Steve being born on the boat coming over from Ireland in international waters, so... just something to think about.

Personally, it just adds fuel to the fire that burns within me, knowing that Steve is absolutely not the blindly patriotic, conservative-coopted symbol who is projected in non-fandom spaces. Steve is not loyal to a country but to a set of morals and beliefs that make him stand up for what's right. And that's what I love about him--that is what would make him the same great kind of parent that Sarah was for him.

Apologies for the mini rant, haha

[samkerrworshipper]

the call up

leah williamson x reader

please keep sending requests in i need some fuel!

angst, panic attacks, pain, mentions of abuse of power, mentions of abuse, a short 4000 words im posting this at 2am so sorry for any typos or little things i might have missed x

my heart breaks for the espwnt as they navigate their current situation and i’ve been thinking a lot about it so here’s this little fic ❤️

blurb: you got the news notification, not a text, not a call, a fucking new notification that had broken your heart into a million different pieces

———————————————————————

I was consciously ignoring the sound of furious knocking against the bathroom door, but not on purpose. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I’d felt that way ever since I’d gotten the news notification and then the follow up text from Alexia asking if I was okay. No I wasn’t okay, but I’d told her I was fine anyway. It was a blur to me what had happened after that, I’d thrown my phone at a wall, knowing that my phone was probably 30 seconds off of lighting up furiously with more notifications. How could they do this to us? How could they do it to me? After that I’d stumbled my way into my ensuite, finding it hard to see properly with the tears that were crowding my eyes. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think beyond the thought of how this was actually happening.

I’d staggered my way into the shower, cranking the water to its highest point and sitting myself down on the floor. I was bawling my eyes out but I couldn’t really feel it, all I felt was numbness, overwhelmingly numb. The shower water was boiling hot but the searing liquid felt perfect against my skin, it did wonders to comfort the iciness inside of me. It also drowned out the neverending sound of me sobbing furiously into my own skin. I was still wearing my clothes, still dressed in the same t-shirt and shorts that I’d been wearing when I’d gotten the notification. I was scratching furiously at my legs, seeking out the relief that the mixture of pain and burning gave me.

How was this the world that we were living in? How was it that in the current world that we lived in I didn’t even have a basic human right? I was a sobbing, trembling mess just thinking about it all.

How was I supposed to go there and pretend that everything was fine, that I didn’t want to claw my throat out just at the thought of being in the presence of some of those people. It was insanity, pure insanity. I was a fucking world champion, one of the best players in the world and yet here I was, back to square one. What was the point in us even signing a treaty if they were just going to flat out ignore it anyways. It made me sick to my stomach, in what world was this okay, in what world was this how we lived?

Leah would probably hate me, hate me for being ungrateful for the opportunity, hate me for not taking a chance to play when she couldn’t. I was being fucking childish, it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, shouldn’t have been that upsetting. I was being given the opportunity to play the sport I loved for my country, so why did everything about it feel so wrong? Why couldn’t I find a part of my heart that was happy that I’d been called up, happy about the prospect of playing for my country. I should have been happy, should have been excited, should have been bewildered that they were asking for me to come back even after I’d told the press about all the abuse, it was a miracle really. My heart went out to Mapi, my best friend who I knew would be absolutely devastated that she’d been called up, she’d rejected a call-up to the world cup because of her views and now that was invalidated, everything she’d stood for was going out the window, much like the rest of us.

It was the knocking that brought me out of my spiral, it was non-stop, loud and furious.

“Y/n, I’m coming in sweetheart.”

It was Leah’s voice, both so gentle and stern at the same time. I didn’t take my head out of my knees as I heard the door to our ensuite open, I must have forgotten to lock it in the flurry of emotions that had gotten me to the shower floor. I heard Leah step cautiously into the room, probably taking in her surroundings and the state I was in. Then I heard the door to the shower opening and I couldn’t help but pull my head out of the spot in between my legs to look at her. She looked flustered, her hair and clothes dishevelled and nothing like what they’d looked like when she’d left this morning to take our dogs on a walk and meet up with Keira for coffee.

“Oh darling.”

I knew I probably looked like a mess, mascara smudged all over my red eyes. She reached out to comfort me but immediately recoiled when her skin made contact with the water, letting out a string of profanities towards the water,

“Fuck, you’re burning yourself,” She said, her eyes flashing with fear as she reached towards the temperature dial, immediately turning it down to a more luke warm temperature.

“No, I need to feel clean,” I reached up to turn the water controls back to my previous temperature btu Leah’s hand stopped me, her hands gently gathering my own in hers.

“You are clean y/n,” Her voice was a mere whisper, her voice hoarse as she hurriedly slipped off her shirt and shorts before climbing into the shower with me, just left in her sports bra and boxer shorts.

“Dirty,” I choked out, flinching away from her as she snaked an arm around my body.

“You are not dirty y/n/n,” her voice was stern, she was speaking to me with the intention to get past my internalised barriers that were trying to block her out, trying to block out her attempts to convince me that my self deprecating thoughts were wrong.

As soon as she noticed my hands falling down to my legs to continue scratching at them to get some release she put a stop to it, her own hands intertwining with mine and bringing them to her chest.

“I know there are a lot of twisted thoughts going through your head right now sweetheart, I know that this whole situation is so fucked up, beyond it being okay but I’m here for you.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like every breath that I was taking in was lacking in oxygen and everything I needed to be able to fucking breathe.

“How can they do this? How can they make us do this?”

Leah just shook her head at me, because we both knew she didn’t have an answer, that as much as I leaned on her to give me an answer for everything she just couldn’t in this situation.

“I don’t know.”

Her words were rocky, splotchy, it reflected everything that I was feeling in that moment.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m being ungrateful, I mean you can’t even play and I’m sitting her complaining about the fact I’m being given the opportunity to play,”

“You aren’t being given an opportunity, you are being forced to play. You are allowed to be annoyed about that, it’s not being ungrateful. We live in a world where as women we are supposed to be grateful about every single fucking opportunity we are given but this isn’t a opportunity my love, it’s fucking abuse, especially after what those men did to you.”

I shivered at Leah’s words, just thinking about everything that I’d given to that team just to be fucking abused and assaulted, it had taken so much therapy for me to acknowledge that it had been abuse, that it hadn’t been deserved, that I deserved better.

“I can’t go back, I can’t do it,” Leah nodded at me, pressing her lips to my forehead under the spray of the shower and nodding against my skin.

“That’s okay, we’ll sort it out, I’ll call Ale and we’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to go you don’t have to, we can't risk your mental health for fucking soccer.”

“They’ll take my licence, they’ll fine me, I’ll never be allowed back, they’ll find a way to invalidate my passport and I’ll never get to see my family again,”

“That’s a bridge we can cross, we’ll figure it out, what matters most is that you are okay.”

I didn’t feel okay, I felt like I was tearing at the seams, like seeing that news notification pop up on my screen as I’d been catching up on the most recent episode of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was probably the worst moment of my life.

“You do feel safe, y/n?”

I shook my head, burying deep into Leah’s neck, trying to get as far away from the world as I could.

“I love you y/n, I will never stop loving you, no matter what happens, you are stuck with me, so even if thats hard to believe I need you to know that, I need you to think about that. Let’s get you out of the shower, yeah?”

She was right, I didn’t believe her. I kept my cheek pressed into her neck as she lifted me up off of the floor and out of the shower, stripping off my layers and wrapping me in a towel, I refused to face her though, refused to look into those eyes.

“Can I carry you?” Her voice was so hesitant and before I could gather my thoughts, the ones that told me to push Leah away I found myself nodding.

She engulfed me in her arms so quickly it was as if she knew I was on the cusp of changing my mind, I still hadn’t stopped crying, my sobs had just quietened down into numb, soundless tears that somehow burned my cheeks as they dripped down my skin. My chest pressed against her own as she lifted me up and walked us into our room, our bedroom. I squeezed my eyes, trying my hardest to ignore how perfect it felt in that moment to be pressed against her, to be in her arms, how perfect it felt to be held by her.

She gently placed me down on our bed and I tried my hardest not to whimper at the loss of contact, she dashed off into our wardrobe, stumbling around in there for a few seconds before returning with a fresh matching bra and boxer set on herself and a sports bra and pair of boxer shorts for me. I didn’t even flinch as she pulled the items of clothing over my body, just went limp in her arms. Once she was done dressing me she climbed onto the bed beside me.

“Can I hold you?”

I nodded at her with tears in my eyes and she’d immediately wrapped both of her arms around me. She rested herself against the head of the bed and brought me into her lap so my back was pressed against her chest, it was the skin to skin contact that made me start to sob unapologetically and furiously. Leah was quick to tighten her grip on me and start to rock me back and forth in her arms.

“I’m so sorry this is happening to you sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to fix it.”

Leah was a problem solver, furiously dedicated to helping out anyone that she could. In this instance though I couldn’t find anything that she could actually help with, what was there for her to do? No one could do anything, any effort, any attempt to try and make a change, for Jenni, for us all, was over.

“How am I supposed to go there and act all happy and grateful when all I want to do is tell them all fuck you, fuck you for doing this to me, fuck you for condoning the abuse for years, fuck you for covering it all up.”

My words came out in hiccups between the sobs, Leah waited for a few minutes before answering me, it got to the point where I was worried she wasn’t going to answer me at all.

“If you don’t want to stay and play you won’t have to, it’s against your rights and the FIFA code says so, fuck there bullshit law that says you have to go. We’ll talk with our lawyers, talk with Ale and Mapi and we’ll find a solution. If they make you play then you can sit on the field, you can fake an injury, get yourself red carded. We’ll find a solution, we’ll work it out.”

Everything Leah said made sense but it also didn’t, how was I supposed to go there, how was I supposed to walk in a building and try and reason with people I was terrified of, people that I now needed anti anxiety medication for, people that had given me years of trauma and PTSD.

It was then that we were both shaken by a furious banging from our front door, my mind went to the worst place possible. What if it was reporters, or people from fifa, or people from the Spanish federation? What if they’d come to take me, what if they were already here to take my licence or take me to jail?”

Leah sensed my distress and slid herself out from behind me.

“I’ll go take a look, stay here, it’ll be fine.”

Even her voice was unsure, like she didn’t even know if it was actually okay. She darted out of our room, I heard her thudding down the stairs and then making it to our front door. I heard her open it, which indicated to me it had to be someone we knew because if it was someone she didn’t want to see she would have looked through the peephole and left them. I heard the hushed voices of two people, maybe? Then the furiously fast footsteps of an amount of people I couldn’t make out. Within a few second though all was revealed to me as Alexia, Mapi, Lucy and Keira bursted into my room, Leah chasing after them. One look at them all had me sobbing again. Alexia and Mapi were quick to jump onto the bed beside me, I noticed the the tear tracks that were painting Mapi’s face as well and the red rims around her eyes. Mapi was my best friend in the entire world, we’d played with each other since we were kids. Alexia was like my older sister, she’d taken me under my wing as soon as I’d joined Barca as a rookie and she’d treated me like her own ever since. The two women meant more to me than anybody else, bar Leah and I knew that they both knew how much this would be tearing me up.

“How can they do this to us? After everything they’ve done?”

“Lo se mi amor, lo siento mucho.” (I know my love, I’m so sorry)

Ale’s voice didn’t do much to comfort me, if anything her familiar words that were spoken in our mother tongue just made it all pour out of me more.

The two english women in the room were lead out by Leah, the three of them sensing that this was a moment that us Spaniards needed to have on our own.

“No puedo hacerlo Ale lo siento pero no puedo hacerlo.” (I can’t do it Ale, I’m so sorry but I can’t do it.)

“It’s okay Mi amor, I understand. We are going to sort it out for you and Mapi, we’ll figure it out, you don’t have to be there if you don’t want to, they can’t force you.”

“Can’t they?”

It was the first time Mapi had gotten a word into the conversation and Alexia’s eyes immediately met hers in a glare, she was trying to stop me from working myself up even further and Mapi’s words weren’t helping.

“No they can’t María, we’ll work it out, I’ll sort it out for my girls, I’ll keep you protected, te prometo que.” (I promise you)

“You can’t make that promise, you didn’t protect us last time.”

The tension between the two was thickening and it was making me feel even smaller.

“I can try my hardest, last time it was different and you know it, this time we have an audience, we have people that we can trust to help us, we don’t have to be scared anymore, I am going to protect you, lo juro.”

I pressed myself further into Ale’s arms, finding solace and comfort in the older woman's arms.

“I’m scared, Ale.”

I felt Ale’s head nod against my own from its position balancing on top of mine, her head burrowing into my semi wet hair that Leah had partly dried with a towel.

“I know pequeño, you have every right to be scared, but I’ll keep you safe and if you want to go home after we negotiate with them then you can, no one is going to make you play.”

I nodded into Ale’s body, searching for Mapi’s hand and when I found it tangling it in my own, finding warmth and steadiness in her hand.

I could feel my body relaxing into Ale’s, the emotions of the last hour starting to hit me and affect my energy level.

“Go to sleep, cariño, rest, you need it.”

I’d nodded sleepily into Alexia’s body and let myself relax fully against her, letting all of the stress, fear and anxieties leave my body as the feeling of sleep started to overcome my senses.

When I woke up it was no longer light outside. I shot up in bed, realising I was alone and immediately clutching at my chest as I felt the anxiety overcome my body, I’d been deserted, because of my stupid fears about being called up, I deserved it, I was so weak, so stupid, so fucking unworthy of love and attention. It all came crashing down on me, like a massive wave, all of the feelings crashing down on top of me in an overwhelming cascade. I was gasping for air, frantically clawing the sheets of the bed off of my body, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, overheated and sweaty. I’d left a cold sweat patch on our bed sheets but it didn’t really bother me, I was so hot and it was so hard to breathe and I just couldn’t think.

The next thing I knew Leah was walking into our room with a cup of tea that she’d almost immediately dropped when her eyes had met mine, forgetting the cup and liquid and jumping directly onto the bed, her mind immediately reeling.

“Y/n/n, you're having a panic attack, I need you to breathe for me, how we’ve practised, you’re going to be okay, take some deep breaths for me.”

I’d gulped and nodded at Leah, we had practised it quite a bit, it didn’t make it any easier when this happened but it did reassure me that I knew how to do it.

Her hand had almost immediately found its way to my hunched over back, rubbing circles into the muscles along my back as I struggled to take in any oxygen.

“You’ve got it my love, deep breaths, in and out, it’s going to be okay, I’m right here.”

Leah’s voice was so soft, so comforting, like it was made of cotton and teddy bear fur.

“I thought I was alone and I-I thought you’d left me.”

My voice was so unsteady, so unlike me.

“I’m never leaving you honey, not if I can help it, I’m here for you, always by your side.”

She solidified her statement by pressing a gentle kiss to the side of my temple, I relaxed my scrunched up face against her mouth, trying to enjoy the feeling of it as much as possible.

“Good girl, keep taking those deep breaths for me, you're doing so well mi amor.”

Leah knew very little Spanish, I’d tried my hardest to teach her some, especially when she’d stayed with me in Barca but it just never stuck, she didn’t practise enough for it to stick, not that I minded, my mum was english so I’d spoken both since I was a child, my English was just as good as my Spanish so it wasn’t hard for me to converse with my partner.

Leah’s voice kept rubbing against my back, helping to guide me back down to earth from the panic induced cloud that I’d sent myself to. When I did finally come back down I started to take in my surroundings, the damp sheet below me, Leah’s breath against my neck, our dog and cat sitting on the edge of our bed, cuddled up together asleep.

“Hey angel, you back with me?”

Her voice was so gentle, so patient. Leah’s hand found its way to my face, brushing the loose brunette strands from my face and pushing them behind my ear. I felt shameful, I couldn’t handle looking into those eyes, those eyes that held a world's worth of care in them, the eyes that I knew could break me down into tears on their own accord.

“M’ sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Her reassurance was what I needed, I craved that reassurance, craved her approval.

“I just want this all to go away, I just want to be able to me be, just live how I want to.”

Leah pushed herself back against our pillows and pulled me with her, wrapping her arms around me and bringing me to her chest, her lips fell to my forehead out of habit, it was one of her favourite things to do, I loved the connection.

“You can be you, you are allowed to be upset about this, there is nothing wrong about being angry about what is happening to you.”

I let my head find a nook in Leah’s body and relax into it properly, finding so much peace in her.

“I just want this to all be over, better yet, never have happened.”

“Fair enough, you’ve dealt with enough bullshit to last you the rest of your life, you are allowed to be angry about that, anything you feel is valid, your life has been turned upside down by a bunch of old white men who don’t care about anybody besides themselves and it sucks, it sucks that most of the men in power across our world are the same and that we can’t really do anything to change that. I’m here for you though, so is Ale and Mapi and everyone else that cares about you. It sucks, but that's what we have and maybe it’s enough, maybe it’s all we really need.”

I nodded along with Leah’s words, she was so wise, so smart considering her age. It was one of the things I admired her so much for, how she knew so much but was also prepared to educate herself on something that she wasn’t sure about. She was always wanting to be better, to learn more, it was jarring for me when I’d met her, having come from a very traditional family and set of views.

“Go back to sleep my love, we’ll work this all out in the morning, I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

She’d rolled her eyes at me but nodded regardlessly, knowing that if she didn’t my anxieties would creep up and I’d probably send myself into another fit.

“I pinky swear.”

[henneseyhoe]

COUNTRY LOVIN’

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!PLUSSIZE!reader

WARNINGS:nsfw, mentions of spirituality, mentions of death, childhood trauma, smut, slow burn(ish), friends to lovers.

SUMMARY: A sweet country story that will have your teeth aching! Follow Sorie on her journey through womanhood and attempting to break free from the child her father still sees her as. Will the love she has for her childhood friend prevail with a crazy dad around?

Ps. Starting out slow (for now🤭)

2 3

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The sun beamed down on the big yard of grass, the temperature rising to a heated 87. Since it was the Deep South, a heatwave was bound to happen that month with how the weather was this week, and the towns people could sense it. Though it was hot and the temperature was going up by the days, it didn’t stop anyone from getting a days work done.

from farmers farming, to craftsmen crafting, my father and the rest of the small community we had included in that group of people still continued to work through the week till we got a break on the weekend.

I walked outside with a wooden tray, six glasses of fresh lemonade and iced teas set right on top of the oak, ready to be downed by the group of working men I approached. They were building a small stage for the children in the town, the enthusiastic kids giving them a suggestion to put on a play for Juneteenth the week before, so they got right on it to make it happen.

The wind blew against my resisting picked out afro, my straw hat almost flying off before the wind calmed back down. “Y’all boys thirsty?” I asked, the men turning to me with smiles while setting down their many tools, the conversation they were having before immediately coming to a stop.

“You right on time, babygirl!” My father smiled widely, a single golden canine gleaming at me. I smiled back and set down the tray of drinks on the halfway built stage, letting the men help themselves to the drinks.

My father took his own drink and kissed me on my cheek before taking a sip of the sweetened drink of his choice. I wiped his kiss off and made a face expressing annoyance, the men around me finding humor in the treatment. “don’t nobody want your sweaty kisses, daddy” I complained and he chuckled, finishing his drink. “You’ll be alright, I’ll be sure to give you a clean one right on that big forehead when I wash up for dinner” I shook my head.

He was always an affectionate man, wether it was in public or at home. The man still tries to hold my hand when we cross the street, and I always have to remind him that I’m a grown *ass* woman, which he still seems to dismiss like he doesn’t hear me.

I found it cute sometimes. One day I hoped to have a man who was just as affectionate as he use to be with my mother, and I already had an eye on who I wanted that man to be. Quickly reaching at the tray, I picked up a sweet tea and handed it to the same man in mind; Trevante. He was already reaching for the glass first, but I had to make sure I handed it to him directly, just to have that small interaction I hated to admit that I craved. He chuckled at my gesture and grabbed the glass from me.

He nodded to me as a “Thanks”, his hand softly grazing mine. Shivers went up my spine. That man could make me melt before the sun, and that was a fact. It seemed like everyone but my father could tell I was sweet on him, cause if he did I would have never had the chance to be around him like this, especially this close. You could tell Trevante was always cautious with his body language when we were around, afraid that my father would pick up on anything. It had been like that since we were teenagers.

It wasn’t like we were doing anything anyway. just a few late night conversations on the phone here and there, a few ‘accidental’ meet ups, the flirting, and two other situations that would probably send my father into cardiac arrest, but it never went farther than that. I hated that honestly.

Our relationship dynamic always felt like a constant tug of war, neither of us trying to go over that line. My reason being the fear of upsetting someone I rarely upset, and his being not wanting to break a clear boundary set in stone, but not spoken of. He knew I liked him, definitely, and I knew he liked me. I think.

If my father even found out we were talking on the phone, let alone late at night, he’d go off and then proceed to curse his bestfriend for raising such a “sly fox” of a son, thinking he had corrupted me into thinking what we were “doing” was okay.

He was a traditional man and he was that dramatic about me dating. What made it worse is that he never expected the potential date to be someone he saw as a long lost son, and thought I saw him as some kind of sibling, which never was the case. All that pretend best buddies bullshit ended when he decided he wanted to kiss me in a shed after church a year ago. That was as far as we ever went, but obviously there wasn’t much learned from the holy book.

“you made this yourself?” He asked with a hum, setting the halfway empty glass back onto the tray. I nodded with a genuine smile, holding my sun hat down on my head as the wind blew. I couldn’t even help but watch how his tongue ran across his lips, licking up any droplets of the sweet drink.

It was only for a few seconds, but I made to to quickly snap myself out of it to answer him. “That’s all me. I made sure I didn’t make it too sweet for you” he smiles and takes my hand into his, my heart skipping a little beat. “Thank you, beautiful” he complimented, holding my hand. For a second it seemed like the world stopped as I watched him caress the top of my hand, but it was really just the effect of the sounds of working slowing down again, almost everyone peeping our exchange.

Trevante glared back at the nosy crowd and let my hand go, tucking his own in his pocket.

I cleared my throat and looked away, fluffing out the bottom of my afro as Trevante looked away into the distant field. “…Anyway! I should be heading back to the house, check on the greens I put on” I lied, knowing damn well we weren’t having greens tonight. Turning away to quickly dismiss myself, my dad called out to me “Before you go! I need you to go get my other tools from the shed in the back to finish up this flooring” he said, pointing towards the back of the house. I huffed silently and turned to him, my hands sassily sitting on my hips.

“I look like some big man to you? I can’t carry whatever it is that you need!” I complained, the men laughing. My father shook his head and pointed to Tre, snapping his fingers to get his attention as all of it was currently on the shape of my hips. He pretended to look around in a toolbox sitting near the end of the stage to cover his tracks before turning to my father. “Yes, Sir?”.

“Son, be a good man and help my suddenly weak daughter carry those tools?” The man asked. I was too busy trying to control the thumping of my heart beating against my rib cage that I almost barely heard my fathers request. “Yes, Sir. I’ll get right to it” he spoke with respect, putting aside the toolbox he was pretending to plunder in, and walking with me towards the back of the house.

“Ya’ daddy losing his sight or sumn?” He looks at me, smirking a bit. I raise a brow. “boy, what?” I asked, genuinely wondering where that question could come from. “He don’t seem to see the way you be lookin’ at me. He must be losin’ it” he joked, and I playfully pushed him. “Shut up, you had me worried for a second!” we both laughed, approaching the red painted shed.

“He still runnin’ every nigga that like you outta town?”

I shook my head, sighing. “You know he crazy. He’d run a nigga off earth if that meant I’d be untouched” Trevante kissed his teeth and opened the sheds doors, walking in. I reached for the lights string and pulled it, turning the light on. “You think he’d do that to me?” He asked, beginning to look around for the specific tools my dad asked for.

I smile, butterflies filling my stomach. “Why you ask?” He looks at me for a spilt second, smiling. “Just wanna know” he responds. Nodding, I stand back, allowing him to look for the asked for tools.

“Nah, he’d probably throw up a few times at the thought of us doing anything together, then lock you in the basement though” I joked, both of us laughing again.

“You gonna bring me down dinner every night if he catches me?” I roll my eyes, pulling myself up onto a table to sit. “oh, honey… You have very high hopes for me like I’m not gon be locked in this damn shed” he shakes his head.

It was already a surprise that my father sent us back here together and alone at that, but that just meant he was getting too comfortable with the thought of us being strictly platonic. It scared me a little. How would he really react if our friendship, *if you could even call it that*, grew into something a little more? Yes, we joked about it together, but the thought of it genuinely made me anxious, my stomach turning.

If there was one thing my father could do, it was drag a situation out so bad until there was nothing left to say and his opponent had no choice but to let him win, which I did often. I barely rebelled against anything he said, actually.

“Aye! You gon’ sit over there lookin’ stuck the whole time or help me look for these damn tools?” Trevante asks while snapping his fingers in front of me. He must’ve been there for a few seconds.

“Boy,- “ I slap his hand away.

“you the big strong man, use your big strong brain to find it” I sass, the man squinting at me. “What a doll you are” he says, sarcasm plaguing his tone, making me giggle.

About a minute later, he pulls a big blue tool box from underneath a tarp. the box was locked up, most likely to stop anyone or anything stealing my fathers “good tools”, as he would say.

“Look at that, you aren’t just muscle after all!” I laugh and hoped down from the table, brushing my dress off to rid it of any dust from the wooden table. He mimics my laugh and starts looking around for the keys to the box.

“You know where he keeps the keys?” He huffs, lifting the heavy box on his shoulder and turning to me. I shrug, genuinely not knowing where that old man placed anything. “I dunno. Maybe hanging up somewhere” I suggest, not really caring too much to look around for that either.

He hums while looking around striding closer to me. “Maybe get up and help me look?” My lips formed a straight line, my expression becoming blank. My hands began fiddling with the lace on the bottom of my dress, my nerves getting worse the closer he got. “No?” He asks, his face now close to mine. I refused to turn away and give him the satisfaction of making me visually nervous, so I stayed still. Letting him get closer.

He paused for a moment, our noses almost touching. It was radio silence for a split second, only the cicadas and distant laughter being heard until I spoke.

“No…”

The response was more timid than I wanted it to sound, but with how my thighs were clenching together as I felt his breath on my lips, the intensifying second heart beat that had appeared just a few seconds ago, I doubt that I would have been able to say it confidently anyhow.

I felt bold enough to close the gap, but he had already pulled away, leaving me awkwardly leaning forward on my tippy toes into nothing. with keys in his hand, he held them up to my face, dangling them. “look at that, they were hanging up. Behind you actually” he smiles, his pearly whites that were decorated with golden slugs making an appearance.

“They were..” was all I could say as he walks out of the shed, me following closely behind him with a stupid look on my face.

“Damn! Y’all must’ve been chasing y’all tails back there!” My dad yells, referencing how long we had been gone, occupied with the task given. “They was back there chasing something alright” one of the men interrupted, making the group erupt into laughter. “Catch it, buck” another said, using my fathers nickname while referring to him not catching onto the joke, which wouldn’t have been a joke to him if he had caught on.

“I apologize, but I can’t say your daughter was much help looking” Trevante says, bumping my shoulder and setting down the box. I scoff, setting my hands on my back. “I helped! I told you where it usually was, and you found it!”

“Five minutes after we walked in! Then you just sat there the whole time”

“you must’ve bumped your head if you think imma get my hands dirty to find some old tools and risk staining my dress with rust. I just finished sewing this!” It seemed like everyone either found humor or slight annoyance in how I refused to mess up my nails and clothes, regardless of being surrounded by nothing but nature.

Usually I didn’t have a problem with getting dirty, but I didn’t put on this dress right after I finished it for no reason. I wanted to look pretty. Not like I had been working all day. Even if I had gotten one little stain on it, if it was something I couldn’t get out, I probably would have cried. I was very serious about my crafts.

Going back and forth for a few more minutes, I had realized I passed more than enough time by as I faced the sun, watching it prepare to set. It was now time to go back in and prepare dinner.

[crystlizabeth]

Cowboy Casanova

Phillip Graves x Black!Shepherd!femreader

Warnings: age gap(reader is 23 Graves is 32), teasing, suggestive, cursing. Smut. Car sex bc graves and car sex itches my brain just right. Slight angst ig at the end. As always not proofread💆🏾‍♀️

Summary: going to the rodeo with your family, but your dad decides to bring some of his coworkers, little dose he know your dating the ‘Shadow’ as your dad calls him. It gonna be one hell of a night.

P.2

“Oh I forgot to tell you..” Your father spoke taking a drink from his beer. “I invited a friend, Graves.” He finished. Your eyes widen at the mention, your father had unintentionally invited your boyfriend. It wouldn’t be such a problem if one your relationship with graves was not something your father would be fond of and two he wasn’t almost 10 years older than you.

You shared a look with your older sister her already looking at you, she knew. She’s known but this she wanted to laugh at how scared you looked. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen him, he still workin’ in the air?” Your brother asked.

You finished your beer off removing yourself from the conversation they started grabbing your sister by the hand taking her back into the beer garden with you. Finally getting away from your family you looked at your sister “Im gonna actually off myself, Nessa WHY IS THIS HAPPENING.” You groaned your hands running down your face.

She laughed no that bitch fucking howled “This is fuckin amazing. Holy shit.” She slapped her hand landing on your shoulder.

“Daddy invited, yo lil boyfriend!”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah but at least you’re finna get laid tonight.” She continued laughing.

You internally scream as you paid for your beer, the two of you returning to your family through the crowd of people. Upon returning there the cowboy stood conversatating with your parents. His eye found your after hearing your mother call your name “You remember Phillip right?” You mother asked.

You nodded “Mmhm I remember him.” Smiling at him as he returned a smile, god.. He looked good in a cowboy hat, his shirt tucked into his dark wrangler’s a silver buckle and his square toed boots.. mmm you would mind taking him here but unfortunately your parentals were present.

“Babygirl how bout you show Philip to the beer garden, we’ll meet y’all at our seats yeah?” Your father spoke handing you two tickets. You gave your father a look, “your sister can go with yall if you’re shy babygirl.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes “common cowboy.” You said turning around. Phillip gladly following behind you after being for sure out of sight Graves came up behind you his and resting his hand on your hip his thumb going through your belt loop.

“Whats wrong doll.” He teased placing a soft kiss on your neck.

“Umm just that my Father invited my boyfriend who is seriously of limits to me in his perspective.” You spoke you hand holding his wrist.

“Scared we’ll get caught pretty girl. Common, ‘otta have s’more faith in me.” He said making you both stop facing eachother his calloused hands resting above your low rises on the bare skin, his face leaning in close a greedy smirk displayed on his face.

“Maybe because my father with actually kill you and burn your body in a foreign country.” You smiled letting your hands run down his chest slowly nails dragging slightly.

“Mmm probably but lets not worry ‘bout that right now sweet girl.” He said kissing you lips softly, your hand pushed on his chest.

“We get caught its on yo ass Graves.” You spoke pushing your lips together pressing color back into your lipstick, your hand wiping the darker neutral color of his lips. He gave you a smug grin slapping your ass lightly before continuing to the bar. Fuckin tease.

You placed your self next to him leaning against the bar your arms resting against under your boobs lifting them very nicely giving Phillip and the bar tender and nice view, your cropped gray tank top sat low showing off the top your pretty light blue bra the lace sitting all pretty. Your washed out miss me’s sitting low enough on your back to show your dimple piercings, mmm and did Lip enjoy the view, was he jealous that the other boys where looking at you oh of fucking corse but at the end of the day you were his all his so let ‘em little boys look. He continued you admire you as you both worked on your drinks you wore a straw cowboy hat with a little charm on the front and your belt the buckle bring your fit together yeah you looked so damn good…

“Finish that, we gotta go out to my truck.” He spoke, taking one last swig of his bud light.

“Why?” You asked eventually finishing your beer anyway 3rd one down.

He gave you a look motioning his head to the exit.

Oh…

Oh!

“Lets go!” You grinned pulling him by his hand through the crowd. Luckily it was starting to get dark and Phillips tint would do the trick, pulling out your phone you sent a text to your sister.

‘Hey cover for me be back in like 20-30 minutes love ya!💋’

Nessa💆🏾‍♀️

‘Ight j dont be to long dont want daddy getting suspicious.’

With that you put your phone back in your bag as you two walked to his truck, it being parked somewhere in a dead end street. Opening the back door to his GMC you quickly got it him following you after, he started his truck so the ac could start cooling the inside from the Louisiana sun.

“Lets make this fast don’t want your daddy to worry bout his little girl.” He teased taking your hat of replacing it with his, his hands starting to work on his jeans as you worked on yours you fully discarding your pants.

Your lips met his, both of your lips moving in sync. Phillips hands made there way to you ass grabbing a hand full of flesh as he rocked your hips onto him. “Matching set.?” Lip spoke in between kisses.

You smiled agains his lips “I thought it was cute..” you stated knowing damn well this was one of the sets he had bought you it being a favorite. You felt his hand go to move your panties to the side and he freed himself from his briefs.

You lifted yourself up letting him line himself up to you. Your hands griping his shoulders as you sunk down on to him letting out a soft moan, the movement of your hips causing his head to fall back against the window.

“God you feel so good sweetheart, made just for me huh?” He groaned, a small whimper escaping his mouth when you fasted your pace.

His hands moving your hips as well, your body falling closely to him placing soft kisses on his neck your lipstick leaving stains as well as soft red marks from sucking on him. The truck moving slightly at the fast movement, Phillip fucking himself into you. His arms hugged your waist as he kept his pace up as you fucked him back your cunt dripping of arousal the mix of fluids making a white ring around the base of his cock.

“Fuck Lip..” you moaned, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Common sweetheart hold on a lil bit longer for me I’m s’ close.” He slurred, feeling your walls tighten around him.

“Please.. please let me cum.” You begged her face muffled into his shoulder.

“Nah common baby let me hear you.” He spoke his hands gathering your hair pulling your head back.

“Fuck please let me cum, please daddy let me cum.” You begged, the knot in your stomach becoming unbearable.

He let out an amused chuckle his pace not slowing down. “Yeah you wanna cum?” He asked his tone faking sympathy. “ ‘mon pretty girl use that filthy mouth of yours.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure causing your head to go fuzzy your mouth hanging open slightly as moans continue to slip from your lips. “Look at you all cock drunk.” He degraded.

“Please I- I cant hold it anymore… fuck daddy please.” You pleaded, your nail’s digging into his shoulders.

He wore an amused smirk enjoying your begging, they way you pleaded drove him crazy. Your walls pulsing he knew you couldn’t keep it together for much longer and that if he kept you her to long suspension would come upon your father.

He groaned his balls starting to tighten “mm cum for me sweetheart, fuckin cum f’ me.” He grip releasing your braids wrapping his arms hugging your waist once again his face buried in your breast as he came undone.

Phillip whimpering as he filled you up stuffing you full. After catching both of yours breath you began to redress yourself, Graves grabbing a napkin from his glove box cleaning up his mess that was currently dripping down your thighs into his leather seat, Also wiping the spot on his covers thigh.

“Made a mess did we.” You laughed noticing the stain on his leg.

“You made a mess.” He corrected.

“Could have been worse.” You winked, he knew what you meant and he nodded.

You both exited the vehicle a group of four walking by they looked away from the two of you minding there business. Cute.

Helping you out he took his hat back giving your back to you, placing the hat on your head he gave you a deep kiss. “Your lipstick is smudged doll.” He smirked.

Fuck, you let your hands whipe around your mouth. Phillip watching you he couldn’t help but smile, little did he know he had a few hickeys light but they were there. You both continued on to the gate getting a drink then heading in to the rodeo, your mother of course had to ask questions.

“Where has y’all be, it been like 30 minutes?” She questioned your father looking up taking a sip of his drink.

“I had to use the bathroom and feed him so fried Oreos because he’s never had ‘em.” You spoke innocently the lie rolling off your tongue so easily.

She shook her head letting y’all sit down you in between your father and boyfriend. Your father giving the two of you a look that caused your stomach to drop, but Phillip ignored it tried to anyway. You glance over at him noticing a light lipstick stain, your lipstick stain it wasn’t very visible but it was still there if your wore a lighter shade maybe could have gotten away with it but as of now he knew he had to.

“Graves come get a drink with me.” Your father spoke, Tapping your leg to let him through.

Oh shit, shit shit shit!

Lip nodded standing up going down the bleachers with your father. You looked over at your sister who was next to your mother, Nessa giving you a panicked look.

Phillip stood in line with your father the silence thick. The noise of the fair and rodeo seemed so dreadfully loud. Phillip soon opened his mouth to say something but was cut off “how long have you been sleeping with my daughter.” Shepherd spoke dangerously calm.

“Im sorry?” Graves asked, his heart dropped into his stomach.

Shepherd turned his head looking him dead in the eye “How. Long. Have you been sleeping. With my daughter.”

Phillip wasn’t one to show weakness nore fear but right now he was fucking scared, he made a reckless misstep because he couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few more hours. “Sir, I.. shit.” He took a breath his voice slightly shaky.

“For about 9 or so months now.” He spoke, you two have known each other longer but have been together since late February.

Shepherds head turned back looking in front of him ordering his beer. The two men stepped out of line Phillip trying to explain the situation but he wasn’t having it.

“You realize my daughter is almost 10 fucking years younger than you. And I told you Graves, you and your boys being around my family you were forbidden to involve your self with any on my daughters, Natalie, Vanessa, (name). Yet here I’m finding myself having this conversation with you because your sleeping with my youngest.” Shepherd spoke his voice still calm not wanting to cause a scene, but Shepherd was livid.

Graves had just dug his own grave, they had been caught. “Sir Im aware how old she is and I know I wasn’t supposed to get involved with your daughters life it just happened… we-” Phillip spoke getting caught off.

“I don’t want to hear excuses Phillip, let me make this clear. You can stay the rest of the night because I invited you but when you take my daughter to her apartment tonight because she’ll use her sister to cover for her. I want you to cut contact with her or I will release you if your duties.” Shepherd said his face close to Phillips.

“Do I make myself clear boy.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.”

With that the two men returned on there way back. Phillip couldn’t believe how easily he gave into your father, how easily he just had to leave you. He couldn’t do that to you nor himself, but his career,  was at risk something he’s worked hard for something her loved yet cherished you. He loved you, so fucking much. Walking back up he saw the worried expression your wore through a small smile, he gave you a reassuring smile nodding at you as he sat down.

Your head turned looking at him, but you couldn’t read him, nothing.

The night went by slower than you would have liked, the rodeo ended at about 11 your family and Phillip now on the way out and you had done exactly what your dad had known. You had used your sister as cover walking the opposite direction with her and Lip Nessa soon seeing her way out.

Getting in the truck you finally spoke “What did my father say?” She asked, he brows frowned.

He didn’t say anything he only began to start driving, his blue eyes focused on the road.

“Phillip what did you and my dad talk about..” now you were scared.

“Baby…”

“Lets talk when he get you back to your place..” he spoke his hand laying on your thigh rubbing it softly.

So you guys did getting into your apartment you took your boots off placing you hat and bag down, Phillip followed in behind you but didn’t remove his shoes he wasn’t wearing his hat anymore. You walked up to him going to him your hands going to touch his face, but he stoped you his hands grabbing your wrist.

“We cant do this anymore..” he whispered.

What? No what the fuck.

“What do you mean..” you couldn’t feel the lump in your throat form you knew what he ment.

“Doll don’t look at me like that… please don’t look at me that way…” his voice soft, his blue eyes focused on you.

“No, no fucking tell me. You cant just.” You spoke, you voice breaking.

“What did he tell you, what did he make you think.” You asked your hands now in fist.

“(Name) dont make this harder than it had to be. He knows…”

“No shit he know you’re standing here breaking up with me!” You shouted pulling you hands from his grip pushing him back a little.

“What the fuck Phillip! are- are you kidding me…” you cried out.

“Why..” you asked letting out a frustrated cry.

“Im 32 sweetheart, your only 23 you have so much to live for. Im… im only gonna hold you back..” he spoke, that lie made him sick, you were living he would never do anything to hold you back. Yet that that excuse he chose to you and you called bullshit.

“Did he threaten releasing you from your position?”

He looked down at her “No.. no”

“Stop lying dont fucking protect him, tell me.” You spoke sternly few tears falling down your face.

Graves looked at you, he hated how you were about the only person that could see through his lies. “He did..”

And you knew how much that job meant to him, how hard he worked for the shadow company how many years he put into the military and now you stood in the way of that. You couldn’t blame him, but it hurt, hurt even more when you weren’t gonna let your father take that away from him. Phillip took a step towards you he wanted to explain you knew the love that he carried for you, but you weren’t gonna make him chose because he was considering it.

“Don’t let me come in between that, I sorry Lip I- I didn’t know he would do that. That he was going to threaten you position.” His heart broke hearing your words.

“Please don’t apologize, never apologize.. I love you so much I hope you know that. I don’t want to lose you.” He spoke taking your face in his hands making you look at him, tears stained your features.

“Phillip, your worked so hard for all of that, don’t chose me over 10 years of hard work. I cant make you do that. I openly went against my fathers wishes and his we were reckless and now you have to go back to work don’t let me drag you down.” Her hands held into his forearm your heads weight falling into his hands.

No, you couldn’t. You could never hold him down, he wanted you and would give up his line of work to be with you. But you wouldn’t let him.

“Doll, don’t say that you could never hold me back.” He spoke his eyes starting to gloss over.

Dont cry, not in-front if her not now.

“You gotta go Lip… you- god, you have to let me go as I do too” you sobbed quietly.

He pulled you in close wrapping his arms tightly around you, “please don’t give up on me.” He whispered his head laying onto of yours, your soft cries muffled into his shirt. He could feel the wet spot build up on his shirt.

“Go Phillip.” You said making yourself push against him, “Fucking go! Please!” You pushed him back.

“I love you (name)..” he spoke softly.

Your bottom lip trembled “I love you too..”

It felt as if someone had just stabbed him over and over and fucking over just left to bleed out.

Maybe this was it.



Okayy I felt dramatic so here’s some angst maybe a part 2 im not sure though we’ll see!

[arc-misadventures]

The Fashionable Date

Jaune walked to a dorm room used by one of his upperclassmates. He knocked on the door with a hint of hesitation. He wasn’t worried about talking with her, but considering the nature of what they were about to talk about he couldn’t help, but be a little worried.

The quickly door opened, and he was face to face with one roughish smirk from one hell of a beautiful gal. The one, and only, Coco Adel.

Coco: Well, well, well, look at who we have here? Hello handsome, what can I do for you~?

Jaune: Hey, Coco, are you busy today?

Coco: I’m free as can be. Why do you ask?

Jaune: Well, after recent events I need to buy some new clothes. And, since I’m more, or less a fashion slob, I thought I should ask, Beacons fashionista for some advice. So what do you say, Coco; Want to see how well you can dress up a dragon?

Coco: Oh hell yeah I do! This is going to be so much fun! Now, how can I dress up a handsome blond like you? Oh so many choices, so many decisions… Well, regardless of whatever choices I make, I will have to factor in those horns of yours. Can’t wear anything like a teeshirt anymore; You would probably tear it up trying to put it on…

Coco: …

Coco: Wait… Horns…? When the hell did you get those?! They’re quite fetching~!

Jaune: Oh thanks… I got them yesterday after we did some tests to see how effective my fire breath can be.

Coco: And, how did those tests go?

Jaune: Well… considering how… devastating my flame can be… honestly I’m hesitant to use it on, Grimm.

Coco: So since you were testing your ability to breath fire, does that explain why you were walking around, Beacon with nothing but your breast plate, giving everyone such a tantalizing view of your body~? Because I must say, you really filled out~!

Jaune: O-Oh… T-Thank you… But, uhh… It’s, Weiss’s fault all my clothes go incinerated.

Coco: Oh, really?

Jaune: She helped test my ability to withstand fire, and extreme heats. So, she set me on fire…

Coco: She did?

Jaune: Yeah, she incinerated all the clothes I had on during the test. All that survived is my armour, but all the leather straps have burned up as well, so I might as well replace my armour while I’m at it. So… you know anywhere I can find some, Fire Dust fused clothing so that doesn’t happen again?

Coco: I do, but it’s gonna cost you.

Jaune: I’m one of the richest men in the world; So long as they’re functional, I’m good.

Coco: Oh yes, you mentioned you were a rich dragon when you showed off all those gems of yours. Tell me, Love, how rich are you? I want to know what our spending range is.

Jaune: Ehh… I’ve never looked to see how much money is in my account. But, I know my, Net Worth is an estimated 787.5 Billion.

Coco: 7-787.5 B-Billion?!

Jaune: You can make a lot mining raw metals, gems, and dust. Also, constructing infrastructure, military bases, machinery, aircraft, armour…

Coco: Y-You’re rich! You’re filthy stinking rich! You can but anything you want, and you dress like a country bumpkin?! WHY?!

Jaune: Comfort over style?

Coco: This is a crime against fashion! Come on, Arc! It’s time to get you some style!

Jaune: Whoa, HEY?!

~~~

Jaune was standing in the open doorway to a changing booth, giving, Coco a spin as he showed off the apparel she recommended to him.

Coco: Oh yeah… Mama likey~!

Jaune: It’s pretty nice, but it’s rather tight.

Coco: Just like, Mama likes~!

Coco raised her hand up, and brought it crashing down upon, Jaune’s tight butt.

“Smack~!”

Jaune: AHH! Hey?!

Coco: Gotta say you got one hell of a nice ass~!

Jaune: Only because these pants are so tight…

Coco: Why do you think I told you to wear it?

Jaune: To check out my ass?

Coco: And, loving it~!

Jaune: Haa… They’re nice… Everything looks great. But, my hair… Did they really have to cut my hair like this? I didn’t invite you out to get a hair cut.

Coco: What’s wrong with it? It’s a shaggy brush cut, simple, stylistic, and really fits you. Plus it really shows off your horns.

Jaune: It does show off my horns… Glad the sash I found matches them.

Coco: You know, I’m usually against sashes, but that white, with golden fringe really blends together nicely.

Jaune: And, you said I didn’t have any style.

Coco: And, I stand by those words! You were dressed like an absolute slob!

Jaune: But, now?

Coco: But, now after some proper guidance from yours truly you look ready to slay ‘em with your handsome looks, and winning smile~!

Jaune: I don’t think my looks will help me kill, Grimm, Coco.

Coco: I wasn’t talking about, Grimm.

Jaune: Then what are you talking about?

Coco: Haa… Still as dense as ever, Handsome.

Jaune: What?

Coco: So armour, any plans for that upgrade you mentioned?

Jaune: Something more form fitting, that covers more of my body. Something I can put on without worrying about my horns. Going to get some gauntlets, but they’ll probably be fingerless so I can retract my claws. I probably should get some measurements done for that soon…

Coco: Most likely, you’re not your lanky self you were when you first came here. Hence the tight pants.

Jaune: No, that’s so you can stare at my butt.

Coco: Still loving the view.

Jaune: You’re just jealous you don’t have a butt like mine.

Coco: Excuse me?! I have a great ass!

Jaune: No, pretty flat looking.

Coco: You wanna go bud!

Jaune: As in go into a arena for a fight, or go into a supply closet like you did with, Pyrrha?

Though most couldn’t see it, Jaune’s enhanced eyes could easily see the brief moment of shock that flashed in, Coco’s eyes. Just as easily as he saw the lighest of blushes that was spreading across her face.

Coco: What are you talking about?

Jaune: Don’t play coy with me, Coco it’s not going to work.

Coco: I’m not playing coy, I have no idea what you are talking about.

Jaune: Oh, so nothing happened between you, and Pyrrha in the supply closet outside the biology classroom then?

Coco: Wait?! How did you know he had sex there?

Jaune: You had sex? I thought you said nothing happened.’ Does that mean something did happen?

Coco’s face was flushed red as she looked around for an excuse to draw his attention away. But, finding none she finally relented, and told him the truth.

Coco: Okay… After you left, Pyrrha asked if I wanted in on your little harem thing, and I asked if I joined if that meant I could also sleep with her… So we went into that supply closet… and, had some fun. There, happy?

Jaune: I’m surprised you were so hesitant to tell me. I thought you would brag that you banged the, Invincible Girl.

Coco: I’m a kiss, and don’t tell kind of gal. Spoils the mood if you go about bragging about it.

Jaune: Plus it’s polite. Though, every faunas I’ve met knows we did it… Faunas stuff.

Coco: Yeah, I remember, Velvet glaring daggers at her. But, how did you know we did it? Did, Pyrrha brag about us having sex?

Jaune: No, Pyrrha likes her privacy more so than you do.

Coco: Hold on; if, Pyrrha never told you about us, then how did you find out about us?

Jaune: Oh, that? Quite simple really.

In a flash, Jaune reached out, and grabbed, Coco’s ass, pulling her close to him until their bodies were flush with one another. Coco yelped as he grabbed her ass, and was about to yell at him, to slap him, but his grip tightened upon her ass as she stifled a moan at his touch. But, before she could make another sound, Jaune’s head dipped lower until he growled softly in her ear, and simply said:

Jaune: I knew you two had sex, because I can still smell her on you.

A wildfire being propelled by a strong breeze was slower than the deep blush that quickly spread across, Coco’s face.

Coco Adel was the one whose teased others into a blushing mess. She could flirt one into a stubor. She new how to make anyone, man, or woman utterly flatfooted with her seductive teasing. But, she had never been put on the backfoot like, Jaune had done with that simple sentence.

Coco: Y-You could smell us?!

Jaune: Shhh… You don’t want others to hear us now do you?

Coco could only stifle a moan as, Jaune pulled her closer, giving her ass a tight squeeze in the process.

Coco: S-Sorry… B-But, you can really smell her on me? We did that a week ago?!

Jaune just smiled, showing off his fangs as he chuckled as, Coco’s composure was swiftly crumbling.

Jaune: Don’t worry, only I can smell it. No one else’s sense of smell is strong enough to pick up such subtle smells. But, I can easily pick up, Pyrrha’s sent from all the time we’ve spent together. And, there is only one person I know that smells like mocha, and gunpowder~!

Coco’s face was flush red as her voice fled her. He mouth hung agape as his voice echoed in her mind.

Coco: T-That’s what I smelt like to you; Mocha, and gunpowder?

Jaune: It’s quite the tantalizing smell. However, you’ve recently acquired an all the more intoxicating smell upon you.

Coco: Oh, that’s just some perfume I put on earlier…

Jaune: No, not that. That barely has any noticeable scent to it.

Coco: Then… was is it… what do you smell?

Jaune’s eyes look around behind her, before he pushed her inside the changing booth, he quickly shut, and locked the door behind him. As, Coco righted herself she felt, Jaune’s hand grab her, and turned her to face him as he pushed her against the wall. His hands holding her tenderly, one along her waist, while the other cupped her cheek, forcing her to stare directly at, Jaune’s predatory expression.

Before she could utter a word, Jaune used his finger to pull of her glasses, letting them gently fall to the floor with a dull thud. Her face was red, her breathing was heavy, and her eyes were lost in his. All she could do was stare on as, Jaune smiled at her, and spoke those few simple words she never wanted to hear.

Jaune: I smell desire, hunger, and lust… It’s such a tantalizing smell~!

Coco knew, Jaune; If she said the word, just one word, he would pull off of her apologizing all the while for what he did. Just because he had a throng of woman willing to throw themselves at him at the drop of a hat did not mean he would just bed any woman. He would treat them with respect, and he wanted to know if they truly wanted this. So if she said the word, just one word he would back away, no questions, no pleas, no begging. He would just leave her be, and that would be that.

Those were the thoughts running through her mind as she grabbed his golden locks and pulled him into a deep, searing kiss.

Coco had fun with someone in a changing room before. They we’re usually girls insecure about their sexuality, or curious what it would be like. So since she was up for a little tumble now, and then she helped them find the answers to these burning questions of theirs. However, when these little escapades happened, she was in control; she set the pace, she set the mood, she was the one in control. And yet, she was completely helpless under the onslaught, Jaune wrought upon her. And, she was loving every second of it.

Jaune grabbed, Coco by her waist, and pulled her in for a hungry kiss that dominated her lips causing her to moan in wanton lust as her fingers intertwined with his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening their kiss.

Jaune soon pried her mouth open with his tongue, shoving his tongue into her mouth, and her in turn. Their tongues swirled around one another as they duelled for control. Coco relished in the icy cold flavour that hung about his mouth, while, Jaune in turned savoured the sweet taste of coffee that hung about hers. The duo were falling into a drunken stupor as the drowned in the pleasure of one another’s mouths, but it was soon brought to an end as, Coco remember something very, very important about, Jaune’s tongue.

It was long, incredibly long at that.

In order to stake his claim, Jaune pushed his long tongue deeper into, Coco’s mouth, at first she gave a squeak in shock as she felt his tongue seemingly coil around hers, and push deeper into her mouth as a guttural moan escaped her lips between baited breaths of air. Sadly their fun was brought to a swift end when, Jaune’s tongue had pushed just a little too far, and, Coco started to gag from it.

Jaune quickly removed his tongue from the depths of her mouth as, Coco reeled back, and coughed almost roughly from having the invading organ within her.

Coco: “Cough, cough!” Holy hell… Did you literally shove your tongue down my throat?

Jaune: Haha… Sworry…

Jaune’s tongue was hanging several inches from the bottom of his mouth before slurping back inside. Coco could only wonder in shock how he hid such a massive appendage.

Jaune: Pyrrha likes it when I do that to her, I got so into the kiss I forgot I wasn’t with, Pyrrha. Or, you for that matter. I just fell into the moment of it all.

Coco: Well… If I didn’t start gagging on it I don’t think I would have minded really. But, you better be careful with that thing; you’ll break a girl if you’re not careful.

Jaune: Oh really now~?

Jaune licked his lips with a predatory gaze as he moved closer to, Coco.

Jaune: In that case, lets see how hard it is to break you then~!

His hands reached for her belt, and undid the buckles, the buttons, and lastly the zipper before kneeling down before her as he dragged her pants, and her underwear down in one swift motion until she was bare before him.

Coco’s heart was racing, her breathing heavy, and quick. She knew what was going to happen, and just like before she knew how to stop it, and as she looked down at those deep blue eyes staring back at her she said the words she had to say.

Coco: Please… Please break me…

Jaune chuckled as he got to work. Coco’s hand immediately cover her mouth to stifle the yell that threatened to escape her lips. A yell that swiftly gave way to deep, gasping moans of pleasure as he began to eat her out.

Coco could barely contain the guttural moans that escaped her body as she bucked against his face. She bit her lips to hold them back as her hands grabbed a hold of his horns to steady herself, and pull him deeper into her welcoming opening.

Coco: MmmMMM~! How… Ahh~! How are you…?! Mmm~! So…! Ahhh! Good at this~?!

Jaune laughed softly as he pulled away, licking his lips with his long tongue before smiling up at, Coco’s blushing face.

Jaune: Most people don’t know this, but Pyrrha wasn’t my first time.

Coco: S-She wasn’t?

Jaune: Nope~! Case in point…

Jaune drove his head back, and went to town on, Coco. Her hands quickly cover her mouth as, Jaune attacked every her lower lips, basking her in unending pleasure of the body.

Coco: Fuckfuckfuckfuckfucyk~! Who taught you how to eat out a girl like this, a lesbian? Only girls are this good at eating out other girls! MmmmH~! I should know, I’ve… Ahhh~! Done it myself~!

Jaune: Actually yes, a lesbian did teach me. Well, she wasn’t a lesbian by the time we were done.

Coco: You turned a lesbian straight with your tongue?!

Jaune: She was more of a bisexual than a lesbian, I just made it a fact. Now, if you’ll excuse me; my meals getting cold.

Coco really shouldn’t interrupt him anymore, every time she interrupted him only denied him that exquisite tongue of his from caressing her body. And, to emphasize that he picked up his speed, and ravenously ate her out.

A hand clamped over her mouth while the other held him by one of his horns keeping him in place. Behind a flush face she looked down at him to see his deep cerulean eyes giving her a dangerous, and mischievous glint to his eyes.

She would swiftly learn how dangerous that glint in his eyes is.

Both of her hands were on her mouth covering up the guttural moan that if she removed her hands would be a moaning scream for all to hear, and all to be envious off as she felt him insert his long tongue into her precious depths. There are things in life you never expect to experience; the mind numbing pleasure of a faunas with a long tongue have a meal with you was something profound to experience.

She could feel his tongue swirling around her depths, mapping her insides out with his tongue for minutes that felt like they lasted for millennia’s. At long last she felt a quack in her hips, and she would relish it’s arrival. And, when it did she awoke with her butt on the ground, staring at, Jaune’s cocky smile as he licked his lips.

Jaune: Well, looks like I broke you.

Coco panted heavily as her mind raced to find where it had fallen off. And, she knew precisely where; At her peak, as soon as she had her mind numbing orgasm she blacked out, and was left here in a dazed state, but thoroughly satisfied state of mind.

She told him to break her, and good gods, he broke her.

Coco: I said that tongue of yours would break a girl… But, gods… You can break a girl…

Jaune: I aim to please~!

Coco: That’s an understatement if I ever heard one… H-How long was I out?

Jaune: Not long, about a minute, or two.

Coco: And, while I was out, you didn’t decide to keep on having fun?

Jaune: You wouldn’t be around to enjoy it; where’s the fun if you’re not enjoying it too?

Coco: Well, in that case…

Coco slowly rose on shaky legs, shaking from the unbridled pleasure, Jaune just assaulted her with. As she stood up, she turned around, and pressed her body to the wall, shaking her tantalizing round butt towards him, inviting him in.

Coco: Shall we continue~?

Jaune laughed softly to himself as he stood up, and stood behind, Coco’s plump rear, caressing it softly with his hand.

Jaune: We shall, butnot here.

Coco: What?! Why?!

Coco nearly shouted, but this time she remembered where they were. She look over to, Jaune, and saw him giving her an amused smile.

Jaune: Because, as nice it was hearing you trying to stifle a moan like you did, but what I really want to hear… Is you screaming my name~!

Jaune grabbed, Coco by her neck, and pulled him flush against her hotly whispering into her ear those few words that brought her over the edge again in seconds.

Coco: T-T-Then what are we waiting for; come on, make me scream~!

And, that is what she did, scream his name until she could scream no more. And, she loved every agonizing, intoxicating second of it.

~~~

Juniper: You’ve got to tell her to reel it in; Jaune doesn’t like a girl who screams at him to give her his babies, he finds that extremely off putting.

Kali: I’ve been trying to tell, Blake. But, does she listen? Noooo… She all about him pinning her down, and knocking her up on the spot. Where is the fun in that? I blame her choice in literature, there’s nothing romantic in her books, it’s just kinky self indulgence for inexperienced lovers.

Juniper: That’s my daughter’s target audience after all. You have to go with the easy marks.

Kali: Yes, but their not, Jaune’s type. I sear, if I could I would chase after him myself.

Juniper: What’s stopping you?

Kali: I’m a happily married woman, but if I wasn’t, I would be pregnant with his first child right now~!

Juniper: Second actually.

Kali: He’s already a father?!

Juniper: He’s the donor actually, they say it wasn’t him, but I know it was him. It’s cute they think I don’t know, but I…

Juniper: Hmmm…?

Kali: Juni? Is something wrong?

Juniper: My grandmother senses are tingling…

Kali: Well my aren’t! Ahhh! That means it’s not, Blake getting any! Haa… Best get, Sienna to get his kids then. One of my kids is going to give me adorable grandchildren, I don’t care which, but I damn well will get them!

Juniper: I know in mixed faunas families the baby’s faunas traits are a roulette wheel of possibilities, but I really want blond cat eared grandchildren.

Kali: Me too! Oh they would be so adorable~!

Juniper: I know right~?

[starogeorgina]

𝐑𝐮𝐧

Paring: Joel Miller × reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of attempted SA, violence, age gap relationship, blood, kidnapping, mentions of child abuse

Chapter: 1.02

You have to fight to keep the rage from your face, not wanting to give Ellie another reason to disappear again. And though you felt guilty for sending her out into the freezing cold in the first place, you thought it was better for her to collect buckets of snow rather than witness Joel vomiting. The young girl practically leaps down the staircase into the basement, dropping a small bag in front of you without an explanation. You release Joel’s hand and whisper to Ellie, “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I have medicine for Joel."

After escaping the raiders, Joel collapsed, falling off his horse, and you’d managed to help him into the base of a house in a small abandoned town. When he began burning up, you sent Ellie outside to get a bucket of snow to try and cool him down with. When she never came back, you tried to look for her, but with the heavy snowfall, you lost Ellie’s footprints and have been ill with worry since. “Where from, on the other side of the country?"

“I made a deal to trade the deer I killed with some guy. He was a fucking weirdo.”

You could tell by the flush on her cheeks that she was hiding something, but you didn’t have time to pry it out of her. Joel's stab wound had become infected, and he needed the medication immediately. You give him a shot of penicillin on his side, which causes your stomach to turn.

“What guys? Did they follow you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You were more pissed at yourself than with Ellie; she was just a young girl trying to be helpful, unaware of the danger she was putting herself in.

—

Joel lets out a quiet moan as you link your fingers with his. “Where is she?” He asks weakly, “Ellie.”

You point to the corner of the room where Ellie was sleeping with her back pressed against the wall, “asleep.”

Content that Ellie was safe Joel turns his attention to you. He brushes strands of hair behind your ear and says, “You look tired.”

“Really? Because I thought I looked great.”

A pained smile crosses his face. “I don’t need you to watch over me.”

Admittedly, Joel was looking a lot better after a few more injections of penicillin, and he wasn’t as clammy as before, but he was still in and out of consciousness. You sigh, “I need to keep watch.”

“Suppose, but I’ll listen out if you want to close your eyes.” Joel grunts as he shuffles over on the dirty, worn-out mattress he’s laying on, giving you enough space to settle down beside him.

Hesitantly, you put your head on his chest, careful to make sure you don’t put any weight on his body. You feel comfort for the first time since you left Jackson when Joel kisses your forehead and gently twiddles a strand of your hair.

—

You press the back of your hand on Joel’s forehead, trying to gauge what his temperature is. He had fallen into a deep sleep a few hours previously, and it was difficult to get him to take a sip of water. Ellie had to pry his mouth open while you poured it in.

“Are you dating?”

Your head snaps up to meet Ellie’s burning gaze. “What?”

“You and Joel, are you dating?”

“Um, no, we aren’t dating.” The past few days were made up of fleeting touches and shared looks. You thought they had gone unnoticed, but it seems you were wrong.

“But you’ve slept together.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Why would you do that if you aren’t together? It’s just going to make everything more complicated than it is,” Ellie says, sounding so much older than she is. “Adults are so fucking dumb at times.”

Ellie probably didn’t even fully understand what she was talking about. You were sure she had only learned the basics of sex at school, but she was too young to understand how. You feel bad seeing the faraway look on her face. Ellie had started to see Joel as a father figure, and it was possible that she thought he would choose you over her. “I promise nothing will change—what was that?”

Ellie climbs up onto an old washing machine and looks out of the window. “Oh shit. It’s that guy, David, with a group of men, and all of them have guns.”

“Tell me everything, now.”

Quickly, Ellie fills you in on how the man she met before was part of the same community of raiders that attacked you at the university and would likely be hunting you down to get revenge on Joel for killing the man who attacked you.

Panic begins to set in, as you only have a few moments to figure out what to do. You zip up your jacket and make sure the gun is loaded before placing it in your holster. “Everything me and Joel do is to keep you alive, so I need you to do everything I tell you to, okay?”

Ellie nods.

“Find a place to hide and don’t come out. I’m going to lead the men away from here, and whatever happens, you stay with Joel, okay?”

Slowly, she nods again, tears glistening in her eyes.

You lean forward and kiss her on the forehead before climbing up onto the washing machine and cracking one of the windows open; thankfully, you were able to squeeze through it. Silently, you prayed. The three of you made it through the day and managed to not get captured by these assholes.

—

Despite agreeing to do what you said, Ellie decided to try to help you lead the men away from Joel, which derailed your plan. You had managed to go unnoticed as you snuck along to the house at the end of the street and set it on fire. Once they were distracted by the fire, you would mount the horses and go in the opposite direction, but just as the group of men noticed the smoke, Ellie rode the horse down the street to try and lead them into the woods.

When you see Ellie fall off the horse, which has just been shot, you try to reach her before the group of men do. You fire at them, “Stay the fuck away from her!”

You almost reach her in time, but you’re tackled from behind and pinned down to the ground.

“There’s no need to be so afraid,” a man says before picking up Ellie's unconscious body, and immediately you know something is off about him. You could sense the evil presence around him. “My name is David, and I mean you no harm.”

“Put her down now! You son of a—”

—

Your throat burns as the last of the food in your stomach exists in your body. As soon as you saw so much blood on your hands, you began to vomit. You were knocked out and carried to some community in the middle of nowhere, where you were chained to the wall like a wild animal ready for slaughter.

You had made yourself small and crouched. In the corner, one of the men from before tried to offer you a drink of water.

“James, is it?”

“Yeah."

The look in his eyes is almost tender, as if he feels bad for what he’s doing. You swing your leg up and kick him in the face, bursting his nose open. “That’s for shooting my fucking horse. Now, where is she?"

“You’re going to regret that, stupid bitch!” He hisses before storming out of the small room, slamming the door behind him.

—

David towers over you as he tries to convince you that he is a good guy and that everything he does is for the good of his people. He had handed you a form to fill out, which was mainly questions about your menstrual cycle and told you everything you needed to know. He was searching for healthy women to breed them like cattle.

In a neutral tone, you say, “I’ve met men like you before. I know what you are.”

“And what’s that?” David asks, amused, thinking he has won you over.

“No man focuses on a little girl so much unless they are sick in the head,” you say before spitting in his face. “You’re a fucking pedophile!”

“I think you’ve talked enough for today.”

You pull on the chain keeping you attached to the wooden wall and loudly scream, “If you touch a single hair on her head, I will fucking skin you alive!”

—

You stumble out onto the thick snow; if it weren’t for Joel and Ellie calling your name, you would have obviously been in their presence. Tears fall from your eyes as you continue to limp straight ahead towards the icy river. Your bare arms start to feel numb as the cold nips at them.

You had no choice; you had no voice.

Until the day you died, the nightmares of what just happened would haunt you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you see the crimson trail you’ve left behind—a mixture of your own blood and the blood of those you killed dripped from your body. Your eyes return to the front of you as the reality of what you did starts to become overwhelming. The second you feel a hand touching your shoulder, you begin to scream and lash out. “Get away from me! Get away!”

“It’s me! It’s just me!”

“Get off of me!” You’re unable to scratch and slap when your arms are bound with something. “Let me go! Just let me go, please!”

“Stop, it’s me; it’s Joel.”

Slowly you stop lashing out, your chest having as you take gulps of air as you sob. “J—Joel? Joel, they—they—”

They are cannibalistic freaks who tried to force themselves on me with the purpose of getting me pregnant.

“Shh,” he pulls you into his arms, and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “I’ve got you; you’re safe.”

You feel Ellie hugging you from behind, her head resting against your shoulder blades. It takes you a moment to register that Joel has removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. Once you’ve regained control of your breathing, you lift your head and quietly ask, “What do we do now?”

“We’ll find shelter and get you cleaned up.”

You nod, and stepping back, you fix your arms into the sleeve of the jacket and fasten it. Joel leads the way, his fingers tightly gripping his shotgun. You and Ellie share a look that cuts deep. From the look in her eyes, you can tell she’s as traumatized as you are.

[pepperonijem]

i. the gentle indifference of the world || all my love

"I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world." - The Stranger; Albert Camus

Summary: He's cool, smart, attractive... and completely out of your league. But that won't stop you from falling head over heels for him. Pairing: high school!bucky x f!reader Warnings: steve is a little ooc but just roll with it Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: yay!! welcome to the first chapter!

back to library || next chapter

If you had listened to the rational voice in your head when your dad broke the news to you, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

If you had started making a list of things to pack, if you had called either of your two best friends immediately after, if you decided to be sane for 12 minutes, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

However, hindsight is 20/20, but in terms of foresight? You shouldn’t be allowed near the driver’s seat of any vehicle. Because instead of making any of the simple rational decisions after your father mentioned the possibility of moving across the country, you chose to sit down at your desk and write a letter. Fountain pen in hand and a candle burning beside you, for 12 minutes you were a character in a Jane Austen novel. Probably Lydia Bennett of all people, but a Jane Austen character nonetheless.

And that letter was how you found yourself in this situation – mortified and surrounded by whispers and stares, but worst of all, the icy blue glare of James Bucky Barnes was fixed on the pretty pink card in your hands.

A simple “no thanks,” and that was it, but why did it feel like time stopped? One word was enough to crumble your fragile heart and you froze right in place. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you that you began to breathe again, and blood rushed back into your brain enough for you to see Bucky turn the corner and disappear.

Once you finally felt your heartbeat return to normal, you looked around to see the empty classroom you were in and you let out a sigh.

“You ready to tell us what just happened?” one concerned voice asked. Wanda’s voice was always gentle, always cheerful, usually loud, but the softness in her tone this time tipped you over the edge and you felt the sting of fresh tears in your eyes. She knelt down to look you in the eye as your other friend, Steve, helped you to sit at a desk.

Another sigh and you finally began to explain. “My dad said we might be moving in a couple of weeks,” you started, feeling your heart sink at the looks of hurt on your friends’ faces. “So I guess part of me panicked and I decided to tell Bucky how I felt.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to let out a sigh. The ever wise, ever charming Steve, who could see the end of any problem. His sigh was not out of pity, but out of frustration. “You know you could’ve called us right? We could’ve talked this through, came up with a better way to do this.” You knew that Steve and Wanda would not have let you go through with the idea if you had called, but you appreciated the fact that he didn’t say that.

“I know,” you began to argue. “But I don’t know, part of me… hoped he would say yes.” You didn’t miss the way Steve and Wanda’s eyes went wide as you mumbled the end of your sentence. “At least anything but whatever the hell happened today.”

You knew Steve was holding himself back. In his head he runs through every scenario before he acts, actually somewhat calculating underneath his calm, charming exterior. He knew this was the most likely scenario, but he would never tell you that, so he lets out a sigh instead and turns his attention to the math equations written on the whiteboard. 

Wanda on the other hand was a reactor. Her heart was on her sleeve and her anger at seeing her best friend upset was clear in her furrowed eyebrows and shaky voice. “I just don’t get why you keep wasting your time on him,” she confessed. “He’s too dense for his own good and he’s not particularly nice either. He’s smart academically, but stupid in every other way. He’s really not worth it.”

Steve turned around, surprised at Wanda’s outburst. “Wanda,” he called out. “Aren’t you friends with him?”

Wanda scoffed in response. “What about it?” she answered back. “You guys are stupid too, but we’re still friends.” A beat of silence passed as the three of you stared at each other, unblinking, before laughter broke the stillness. It was moments like this that made you pause to appreciate the two people you called your best friends. Although life had its ups and downs, the downs never lasted long, not when you had two loving friends to pull you right back up.

You stood up, a renewed sense of pride and determination filling you up. “You’re right Wanda,” you exclaimed and she gave you a thumbs up in return. “Boys are stupid.” Steve and Wanda shared a look of surprise.

“Well that’s not–” Wanda began to protest.

“I’m not stupid,” Steve started a little too loudly and boldly. “I wouldn’t have turned you down.” 

He finished his sentence softly as he watched you walk out of the classroom door. Wanda placed a comforting arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t have turned you down either Steve,” she teased as Steve shoved her to the side playfully.

Despite your renewed sense of pride, the quietness of your study period left you too much time to think and you found yourself lost in a sense of nostalgia as you sat at a table in the library.

The first time you met Bucky was still painted clear as day in your mind. 

You were a freshman searching for solace amidst the chaos of high school on the first day and you had found yourself in the library. Until now, it was a place of peace for you, but especially so on that first day. 

Running your fingers along the aisles of books, you found one that you wanted to read. The Stranger, by Albert Camus, sitting right at the top shelf, pushed just a little too far back for you to be able to wiggle it out. You let out a sigh, and rolled up your sleeve, embarrassed that your next plan of attack was to climb the shelf to be able to reach the book. You braced yourself, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, when a baritone chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts. 

You had opened your eyes to see an arm  reaching past you to grab a book off the shelf– your book. In your head you cursed his long legs and arms, but as you met eyes with the boy, you felt your heart sink down to your toes and shoot right back up and suddenly you didn’t want to read a book that was so nihilist anymore. Meursault may not have found it, but love suddenly became something that mattered.

He waved the book in your direction and you had to force your attention to his words and away from his face. “Were you trying to get this?” he asked.

“Huh?” you blinked before looking down at the book you were no longer interested in. “Oh, yeah, I was but, I don’t know if I want to read it anymore.”

He hummed and nodded in response as he inspected the book. “The Stranger,” He read. “Is it good?” 

“Yeah, if you’re into stories about life having no meaning,” you explained, suddenly flustered at the way he seemed to take your words seriously.

“I see,” he replied. “Then do you think life has no meaning? It seemed like you wanted this book pretty badly.” The weight of his question startled you as you tried to stammer out a response but before you could get anything significant out, his watch beeped and he was already turning his back to you. “Thanks for the book recommendation,” he called back, waving the book in the air.

That day, James Barnes stole not only your book, but your affections. 

For the next four years of your life, you found yourself loving him from a distance. You’d see him in the hallways, in class, but you could never bring yourself to say anything to him and you resigned yourself to this distance. It was lonely, but it was safe, and that was good enough for you… until today.

Now, after breaking that distance, you wished you never did. It was easier to never know how he felt about you, to be in love with the memory you had of him rather than be crushed by reality. 

The final bell finally rang and you were more than ready to head home. Outside the quiet bubble of the library, the school was cheering, the drumline playing in the main hall and everyone shouting cheers to the football team, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to celebrate your senior homecoming game with the rest of the school. Instead you found Wanda and Steve and made your way home.

“Welcome home!” 

The sound of your father’s voice filled you with warmth as soon as he opened the door, the joy in his greeting briefly making you forget the events of the day. He wrapped you in a tight embrace, still smelling of spices from his day spent at the restaurant, and led you and your friends into the house. 

Once inside, your dad gave your friends a confused look. “Isn’t tonight your last homecoming game? Shouldn’t you be at the game?” He questioned as the three of you kicked off your shoes and set your backpacks down by the door.

Wanda looked over to you as she answered, “Nah,” she replied with an easy smile. “The real party is here.” Your dad let out a hearty laugh in response, which the three of you mirrored. 

“I had made way too much dinner for just the two of us, so it’s perfect that you guys are here,” your dad put his arms around Wanda and Steve who cheered in response.

“Well, once I found out you were making the world’s best lasagna, how could I not invite myself over?” Steve said. The way your dad beamed back at Steve made both you and Wanda chuckle. Steve was both an extremely talented artist as well as an extremely talented cook, and your dad absolutely adored him for it. He was always welcome to the family dinner.

“Careful, dad,” you chimed in. “Between Steve and Wanda, there might not be any left for the two of us.” Your dad laughed in response as Steve rolled his eyes and Wanda nodded. As you settled into the table, you realized your dad wasn’t exaggerating at all when he said he made way too much dinner. The table was lined with lasagna, roasts, vegetables, and lots of side dishes, enough for a feast. “What’s the occasion dad?” You asked as you looked around the table, trying to decide what to eat first. 

Your dad set his silverware down before explaining. “Well,” he began. “To be honest, I felt somewhat bad.” 

“About what?” you asked, your mouth full of lasagna. 

Your dad chuckled as he continued, passing you a napkin. “As I’m sure you’ve explained to your friends,” he gestured to Steve and Wanda. “I accepted the offer to help start the new restaurant. I thought about it some more, and I felt bad that you would have to uproot your whole life right at the end of high school.”

You looked at him, urging him to continue.

“So I contacted my friend from college, the one I meet with for lunch sometimes, and he said that his son also goes to the same school as you and since they have a spare room, he’s offering to take you in for the year.” 

“No shit,” Steve exclaimed in response as Wanda nudged him under the table, giving him a look reminding him to keep his foul language to himself, but your dad just laughed it off.

“That means I get to stay right?” You squealed. “I don’t have to leave?”

“Yes, that’s true,” your dad confirmed. “But it’s only for the year. At the end of your school year, you can move up with me, or if everything goes really well, I’ll be back home early.” He let out a sigh of relief at seeing the way the three of your faces lit up. Ever since you were little, you, Steve and Wanda had been inseparable. You would walk to school and back home together, you would have sleepovers and every meal was spent together. Your dad felt that tearing you away from them right before you would have to separate for college anyway was cruel. 

He cleared his throat as he continued. “I know the situation isn’t ideal, and that you’ll probably miss me so so so much,” he teased. “But I know you’ll be in good hands while I’m away.” He smiled fondly at the two boys sitting around the table who were looking at you with nothing but adoration in their eyes.

The rest of dinner went by quietly. Polite talk here and there, but an overwhelming effort to avoid discussing your father’s move, which was at the end of the week, settled among the four of you. It wasn’t until after dinner, after Wanda had left to go home, that you finally got to process your feelings with Steve who stayed behind to help clean up.

“Steve, you really didn’t have to stay,” You sighed as you leaned against the counter beside him as he turned on the faucet in the sink. “I don’t mind doing the dishes.”

He gave you the same winning smile that he gave your father earlier. “Please,” he began. “It’s the least I could do… you’ve had a long day.” He cocked his eyebrow at you, reminding you of the unopened note that now lay on top of your desk in your room. “How are you feeling?”

You grabbed a dish towel, helping Steve dry the dishes he washed, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Like a salad.” Steve turned to you with a confused chuckle, waiting for you to elaborate. “Don’t laugh, Wanda taught me this. I feel so many things right now but I can’t really condense it all into one thing.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully before continuing. “Okay, well what’s the lettuce right now? The biggest thing you’re feeling.”

“Hmm…” you thought. “Sad, that my dad is leaving. I’ve never been away from him that long.” 

“Okay, what about the chicken?” You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, appreciating the way Steve ran with your simile.

“The chicken… Happy.” You finally gave Steve a small smile. “Happy that I get to stay here with you and Wanda.”

Steve smiled back at you. “I’m happy about that too. How are we supposed to be a trio if it’s just me and Wanda?” 

You rolled your eyes playfully as you swatted his arm with the dish towel. “Steve, you and Wanda have enough personality for 13 people. I’m sure you would have found a way.”

He pouted in return, rubbing his arm where you swatted him before slipping back into a smile. “Not true, but whatever,” he relented. He was glad that the trio would remain a trio, but it got him thinking about what the future holds for the three of you. College was never really something you all had discussed in depth. Mostly just vague hypotheticals about what decorations to get for the apartment you’ll share and the kind of classes you’ll all take together. But in every future he could imagine, the three of you were always together.

After that night, the rest of the week passed by in a messy and teary blur, with Steve and Wanda coming over every day to help you pack. Well, “help” was a strong word. They mostly sat on your bed and looked through your knick knacks while asking for snacks. They were also very unhelpful at trying to convince you to “Marie Kondo” your room, as they called it.

Wanda tried convincing you that maybe you should leave your giant stuffed avocado behind, to which you adamantly argued against because she won it for you at the school carnival last year. Steve asked why you still kept your report card from fifth grade in a treasure chest, to which you responded by showing him the teacher’s notes, “Had to separate her from Steve and Wanda. They distract each other and draw pictures on their math homework. Always laughing and smiling in class :)”

Going through your whole room with them was a lot less embarrassing than you had expected, and by the end of the week, you were ready to go with only the essentials packed. Steve and Wanda came to see you off, helping your dad pack your things into the car and they each gave you a big hug before letting you go.

Your dad laughed at the scene, watching the three of you get teary eyed even though you would still see each other every day at school. But when he finally drove off and saw you looking wistfully out the window, he felt a pang in his chest and it reminded him how much he’s going to miss you as well. 

The drive was fun as it always was with your dad, but as he parked in front of a huge house in a very wealthy neighborhood, the grin on your face grew even more. The homes in this neighborhood were much bigger than your own, and you figured you should enjoy yourself while you’re here. Your dad took your hand as the two of you walked to the front door of his college buddy’s home, telling you a silly story about their adventures together in university.

“Oh, I’m so excited you get to meet him,” your dad exclaimed as he rang the bell. “I heard his son is actually in your grade, so maybe you already know him.”

You looked at your dad curiously. “What’s his name?” 

But before your dad could respond, the door swung open to reveal none other than–

“Bucky?”