#reblogging for the intense looks he gives when people challenge him

[stylesispunk]

"Did the love affair maim you too?" | Part ii

Joel Miller xf!reader

part one | next part

chapter summary: After getting back his memories, Joel and you slipped away again.

word count: 15,3k (yes, it's longer than the first chapter)

warnings: angst, perhaps fluff, mentions of death, mentions of blood, and more angst, you will find out why Joel is mean in this chapter. I know I'm a teacher, but I didn't proofread, so I apologize for any mistake. paragraphs in italics indicate flashbacks.

a/n: Hello! The awaited part 2 of this story is here! I want to say thank you for the amount of love the previous part received, it was so nice to see all your reactions to this one! It was also my first fic reaching 1k> in less than a week and was overwhelming (positively). THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART, so stay tuned for the next! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! happy reading and PLEASE tell me what you think. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

For a mere second of time, wanting was enough for you. In a harsh reality where a tender love couldn’t be part of the writing pages of a tragedy that had changed the plans destiny had for humanity, even a simple glimpse of a spark was enough to initiate the fire.

Finding a reason to wake up was enough. Joel was enough for you, even when it was a path with not a clear ending.

A lie.

A maim affair engulfed in fire burning your lungs.

A tragedy.

You looked up from your work as you sensed people entering at the place, your eyes meeting Joel’s for the first time. His expression was hard, his eyes narrowed as he sized you up. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with a guarded look that made you feel like you were being evaluated.

“Can I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady under his intense gaze.

“She needs that looked at,” he said, his tone brusque as he gestured to Ellie’s arm.

You nodded, motioning for Ellie to sit down. As you began to clean the wound, you could feel Joel’s eyes on you, watching your every move. It was as if he was waiting for you to make a mistake, to prove that you didn’t belong there.

“So, you’re infamous nurse” Joel said after a moment, his voice still cool and distant.

You looked up from your work, meeting Joel’s eyes briefly before returning your focus to Ellie’s wound. His words hung in the air, a subtle challenge beneath the surface.

“Infamous?” you repeated, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I didn’t know I had a reputation.”

Joel shrugged, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze never leaving you. “Small town. People talk.”

You nodded, understanding that this was as much about sizing you up as it was about Ellie’s injury. You’d heard about Joel—everyone in Jackson had. He was a protector, a survivor, and not someone who trusted easily.

“I��m just here to help,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you wrapped Ellie’s arm with a bandage. “That’s all.”

Ellie, sensing the tension, glanced between the two of you, her eyes wide. “She’s okay, Joel,” she said, trying to ease the atmosphere. “It’s just a scratch.”

Joel didn’t respond to Ellie; his focus remained on you. There was something in his eyes—a guardedness, a wariness that told you he was waiting for you to prove yourself, or perhaps waiting for you to slip up.

“I’ve been in Jackson for a few days” you continued, finishing up with Ellie’s bandage. “Just trying to do my part.”

“Everyone’s got a part to play,” Joel said, his tone still clipped. “Just make sure you know yours.”

You felt the sting of his words but didn’t let it show. Instead, you nodded, stepping back as Ellie hopped off the table.

“Thanks,” Ellie said, giving you a small smile.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, managing a smile in return.

Joel pushed off the wall, his eyes still on you as he motioned for Ellie to follow him. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice softening slightly when he spoke to her.

As they walked towards the door, Joel paused for a brief moment, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turned back, his eyes meeting yours once more. There was something in his gaze, something more than just suspicion. It was as if he was searching for something in you, trying to read who you really were beneath the surface.

For a second, the hardened lines of his face softened, but just as quickly, the guarded expression returned. Without another word, he turned away and led Ellie out of the infirmary, the door closing behind them with a quiet thud.

You felt like breathing again.

By the moment you had reached your house, the sun had barely risen, casting a pale light over the quiet settlement. A few people were starting their duties as you walked with dried tears on your face, just wanting not to be perceive and being able to take a shower and follow your routine as you always used to die it since your arrival, but the ache was bigger than your wiliness and you ended up lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the horror on Joel’s face kept replaying in your mind. The heartbreak was raw and overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, let alone face the day.

You didn’t even notice you had fallen sleep until a knock came at your door, it took a moment for you to register the sound. You dragged yourself out of bed, wiping at your newly fresh tears from your eyes and trying to compose yourself as best as you could.

Opening the door, you found Maria standing there, her expression concerned.  “Hey,” she said softly, her eyes scanning your face. “Ramirez told me you didn’t show up at the infirmary this morning. Thought I’d check on you.”

You forced a weak smile, stepping aside to let her in. “Thanks, Maria. I just... fell asleep”

Maria nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She glanced around, taking in the disarray before turning back to you. “You don’t look like you’ve slept much.”

“I had a pretty good sleep” you said, voice breaking at how you so could still picturing Joel’s eyes looking at you with adoration last night “But morning came” you said, voice breaking “Joel got his memory back.”

Maria's eyes widened with concern and understanding. She moved closer, gently placing a hand on your arm. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again. "He doesn't remember loving me, Maria. He thinks I took advantage of him. He hates me."

Maria's expression softened, and she pulled you into a comforting hug. "I can't imagine how painful that must be for you. But you didn't take advantage of him. You both shared something real, even if he doesn't remember it now."

You clung to her, "I don't know what to do. I feel so lost right now."

Maria pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Take it one step at a time. Give yourself permission to feel what you're feeling. And remember, you have people here who care about you. You don't have to go through this alone."

You nodded, trying to find some comfort in her words. "Thanks, Maria. I just... I don't know how to face him now."

Maria squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You don't have to figure it all out today. Take some time for yourself. Maybe stay away from the infirmary for a today? give yourself a break."

You sighed, feeling lost. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea."

Maria smiled softly. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You're stronger than you think, and you have a lot of people who care about you."

You managed a small smile. "Thanks.”

She nodded, giving you another comforting squeeze before standing up. "I'll check in on you later, alright? And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

As she left, you felt a small sense of humiliation, as if what had just happened was just a small piece of gossip to feed a community.

You stare at the wall for a minute, getting your stuff together. If you could get over what happened before arriving to Jackson, you could follow your life. That’s what you were making yourself believe.

So, you changed into new clothes, placing Joel’s shirt under your bed to not having sight of it again. And with a deep breath you left your house, walking to de infirmary to get your job done.

A broken heart wasn’t really a big issue in an already broken world.  

As you walked to the infirmary, the weight of the morning's events lingered in your chest. The usual bustle of the settlement seemed distant, like a muted backdrop to your internal turmoil. Every step felt heavy, but you kept moving, determined to focus on your responsibilities and find some semblance of normalcy.

Upon arriving at the infirmary, you were greeted by the familiar soft hum of activity. People glanced at you with curiosity, but no one asked any questions. You were grateful for their unspoken understanding, and you quickly immersed yourself in your tasks, finding solace in the routine.

Hours passed in a blur of tending to some Jackson residents, organizing supplies, and ensuring everything was in order. The work kept your mind occupied, though it couldn't completely drown out the ache in your heart.

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Maria standing there, her expression gentle yet firm.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "How are you holding up?"

You managed a small, tired smile. "I'm getting by. Staying busy helps."

Maria nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I'm glad you're here. I just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything."

You shook your head. "I don’t want to talk. It’s over” you said, avoiding her gaze.

She placed a reassuring hand on your arm. "I know you said you don't want to talk, but I'm here if you change your mind," she said softly. "Sometimes it helps to just let it out."

You looked at her, the pain still fresh in your eyes. "Thanks, Maria. Maybe... maybe later. I just need some time now."

She nodded, respecting your need for space. "Take all the time you need. Just remember, we're here for you."

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, a bit of rage simmered.

“You all were the ones who told me to go for it. You told me Joel was in love for me and him recovering his memory wouldn’t break what was there, but this morning he treated me like a whore and broke my heart.”

Maria's eyes filled with sympathy and regret. "I know, and I'm so sorry for what you're going through. We all believed it would be different. Joel... he's complicated. The things he's been through have left deep scars. But that doesn't excuse how he treated you."

You took a shaky breath, the pain still fresh and raw. "I just don't understand how it could change so quickly. One moment, we were so happy, and the next... he hates me."

Maria reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. "Joel's been through a lot, and sometimes people lash out when they're scared or confused. But that doesn't make it any easier for you. You deserve better than that."

You nodded, tears welling up again. "I just wanted to be happy. I thought we could be happy together."

Maria's grip tightened slightly, a gesture of support. "You will be happy again. It might not feel like it now, but you will. You're strong, and you have people who care about you. We'll get through this together."

Maria gave your arm one last reassuring squeeze before stepping back. You watched her leave, feeling of sorrow. The pain was still there, but you knew it would take time, but you also knew you wouldn't have to face it alone.

Later that evening, the emotional turmoil still roiling within you, you decided to head to the bar. You hoped the familiar atmosphere and a drink might help numb the pain, even if just for a little while. As you pushed open the door, the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet despair you felt inside.

You made your way to the bar, trying to avoid looking around too much, but it was impossible not to notice Joel sitting at a table in the corner. His arm was wrapped around Lori, and they were laughing together, looking every bit like a happy couple. The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, the wound from the morning’s confrontation ripping open all over again.

Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the bar and ordered a drink, trying to keep your hands from shaking as you waited, Rick, the bartender, sensing your mood offered a small smile.

“What’s wrong with your face, darling?” he asked, concerned on his eyes.

You graced him with a small, tired smile at the question. “Just a rough day,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded understandingly, setting your drink in front of you. “Well, here’s something to help take the edge off. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip of the drink. The warmth of the alcohol spread through you, momentarily dulling the pain.

As you sat there, trying to lose yourself in the comforting anonymity of the bar, you couldn’t help but glance back at Joel and Lori. Their laughter and closeness were a stark contrast to the emptiness you felt. You turned away quickly, not wanting to see any more.

“Is it Joel?” Rick asked gently, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down.

He sighed sympathetically, shaking his head. “Love can be a real mess sometimes.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

The bartender gave you a knowing look. “It’ll get better, you know. It might not seem like it now, but time has a way of healing these things.”

You took another sip of your drink, hoping he was right. “I hope so.”

“If you need anything, just ask me, okay?” he said, smiling at you before going back to his task.

You took another sip of your drink, hoping he was right. “I hope so.”

You nodded, trying to muster a smile in return. As the Rick moved away, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you again. Lost in thought, you barely noticed the person sitting next to you until you felt their presence.

Turning slightly, you saw Joel, his expression unreadable. Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of emotions surging through you, all the pain, anger, and a lingering trace of love.

Perhaps he was here to apologize.

Joel cleared his throat, looking almost as uncomfortable as you felt. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

You stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions. “Hey,” you replied, your voice strained.

Joel shifted in his seat, glancing at the drink in front of you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say much more. The sight of him so close, the contrast memories of his tender touch last night and the harsh words from the morning still fresh, made it hard to breathe.

He took a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Look, about this morning…I was asking myself if I should let my door open tonight for you to come in the lure or something?”

The laugh he made after that cracked your already broken heart. The sound was harsh, cruel, and it cut through you like a knife. Your eyes widened in disbelief, and you felt your entire body tense.

“You think this is funny?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with hurt and anger. “You think what happened between us is something to joke about?”

Joel’s laughter died on his lips as he saw the hurt and anger in your eyes. “I- “

“What did you mean? you interrupted, your voice rising despite your efforts to keep it steady. “Because it sure as hell feels like you’re entertaining yourself by making jokes right now.”

Joel's face twisted into a bitter expression. “What do you expect me to say? That I suddenly remember everything and I'm head over heels for you? Life doesn't work that way, princess”

Your heart sank further, the cruelty of his words stinging more than you wanted “You don’t have to be cruel to be funny, Joel. You could at least try to understand what I’m going through.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms defensively. “Understand what? That you’re upset because you tried to rewrite a history that doesn’t exist between us? I’m sorry, but I can’t change how I feel—or don’t feel.”

You shook your head, feeling an anger bubbling within you. “You don’t get it.” You said, simply. Taking a seat on the stool, again.

Joel’s expression hardened. “You’re too busy living in a fantasy to see that whatever you think happened between us is over. I don’t remember it, and I don’t care to. Move on.”

You looked at him, fighting the tears. “I will move on from you. You’re not that important.” You looked towards the direction he had come from, not breaking the façade. You immediately spotted Lori who seemed amused at Joels treating you badly. “Go back to your woman, Miller”

Joel’s jaw tightened at your words, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and laced with anger. “You know what? I will. At least she knows where we stand. Unlike you, clinging to some fantasy that never existed.”

Your vision blurred with anger and hurt as you stared at him. “You really think you’re better than me.”

He smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. “I’m done with your drama.”

The words hit you like a slap, and before you could stop yourself, you balled your hand into a fist and swung at him. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, causing him to stagger back, a look of shock and pain flashing across his face.

The bar fell silent as everyone turned to witness the commotion. Joel touched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, anger and something else—something more vulnerable—flickering in his gaze.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again” you spat, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “You are the worst mistake I’ve done here.”

Joel's eyes blazed with a mix of anger and shock, but he didn’t say anything. You could see his jaw clenching, and the vulnerability in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, hardened look. The silence in the bar was deafening, every eye on you.

You didn’t wait for his response. You turned on your heel and marched towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of your emotions threatened to overwhelm you, but you refused to let Joel see you break down.

As you pushed the door open, the cool night air hit your face, offering a small respite from the intensity of the bar. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. You wiped them away angrily, not wanting to show any more weakness.

As you stormed out into the night, the tears mingling with the cool air, you heard the door swing open behind you. Heavy footsteps quickly followed, and you knew who it was before you even turned around.

"Hey," Tommy called out, his voice filled with concern. "Wait up."

You spun around to face him, your anger and hurt bubbling over. "What do you want, Tommy?" you snapped, your voice trembling with emotion. "Did you come to see the fallout of your brother's words?"

Tommy stopped a few feet away, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "I came to check on you," he said softly. "I saw what happened in there. Are you okay?"

You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and broken. "Do I look okay to you, Tommy? Your brother just ripped my dignity there?”

Tommy's eyes were filled with sympathy. "I know Joel can be a real asshole sometimes. But he's just confused. This whole memory thing has messed with his head."

You shook your head, the tears streaming down your face. "No, Tommy. This isn't his memory. He doesn't care about me. He never did. He never will”

Tommy took a step closer, his expression pained. "That's not true. I know my brother, and I know he cared about you. He's just scared. He doesn't know how to handle this."

You scoffed, the anger boiling over. “Care about me?” you laughed. “He was just dumfounded. What you saw inside is the real him.”

Tommy's face twisted with concern, his eyes pleading for you to understand. “Look, I know it seems like that right now, but Joel’s been through a lot. This memory thing has him all messed up.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “No, Tommy. You didn’t hear the things he said. He thinks I took advantage of him. He doesn’t remember any of the good times, any of the moments we shared. He just sees me as some... some opportunist.”

Tommy sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say. Joel’s always been stubborn, and this whole situation is making it worse. But you’re not alone in this. We all care about you.”

“Caring about me doesn't fix what he did," you said, your voice breaking. "He treated me like I was nothing.”

“I get it. I really do,” Tommy replied, his voice softening. “Just... give it time. Maybe things will get clearer.”

“Time won’t change what he said. It won’t change how he made me feel,” you replied, the bitterness in your voice evident.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, realizing there were no words that could ease your pain. He took a step back, giving you space. “I’m here if you need me. Just remember that.”

“I don’t need the baby miller protecting me.” You spoke. “From now on, I’m just the nurse and if you need me patrolling, I don’t want Joel near me.”

Tommy's face fell slightly, but he nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. "Alright. I'll make sure to arrange things so you don't have to cross paths with him."

You could see the concern in his eyes, but you didn't have the energy to address it. "Thank you," you said, your voice hollow. "I need to be alone now."

Tommy hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Take care of yourself, alright?" He turned and walked back towards the bar, leaving you standing alone in the quiet night.

As you watched him go, you felt a mixture of relief and sadness. The night air was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to find some semblance of comfort.

Turning away from the bar, you started walking, not sure where you were heading but knowing you needed to move. Each step felt heavy, but you forced yourself to keep going. You would find a way to heal, even if it felt impossible right now.

One step at a time, you told yourself again. One step at a time.

Week one.

You had promised yourself to not having. And Joel had had started to have punctuating headaches.

When he arrived, he noticed another guy standing where you used to be. The unfamiliar face caught him off guard, and a sense of unease settled in his stomach.

"Where's the nurse?" Joel asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The new guy, a young man with sandy hair and a nervous demeanor, looked up from his preparations. "She asked to be reassigned. Said she didn't want to do patrols anymore."

Joel's heart sank. "Did she say why?"

Before the guy could answer, Tommy walked over, overhearing the conversation. "I'll take it from here," Tommy said, looking at the new guy, who nodded and walked away.

Joel turned to Tommy, his expression a mix of confusion and worry. "What's going on, Tommy? Why'd she ask to be reassigned?"

Tommy sighed, crossing his arms. "She didn't want to be around you, Joel.”

Joel felt a pang of guilt and frustration. "I didn't mean for things to get this bad. I was just... I was trying to deal with everything, I think I handled it wrong."

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, you did. And now she’s moving on as you asked her to.”

Joel's chest tightened at Tommy's words. "I didn't think she'd actually was…I- I thought she’d... I don’t know, understand.”

"Understand what, Joel?" Tommy asked, his tone sharper than usual. "That you were scared and hurt, so you took it out on her? You made your bed, now you’ve gotta lie in it."

Joel ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes. “Okay what’s so wrong? Since when she is in love with me?”

“Did you know she was the one who brought you back here when you feel and hit your head so hard you forgot about her? Or about all this past year?” Tommy said exasperated, “She was there for you every single day and man, she was scared of letting you in because she knew all this was going to happen.”

Joel's mind reeled as Tommy's words sank in. "She brought me back?" he echoed, a wave of guilt washing over him.

"Yeah," Tommy said, his voice heavy with frustration. "She did everything for you. Every single day. And you just pushed her away like she meant nothing."

Joel felt his heart constrict. He had been so consumed by his own confusion and pain that he hadn’t stopped to consider what she had gone through. "I didn't know. I didn't remember."

"That’s the point, Joel. You didn't remember, and instead of trying to understand, you lashed out at her."

Joel nodded slowly, trying to absorb the pieces of new information.

"You can't just fix this with a few words, Joel.” Tommy added, as if he had just read his brother’s mine. “She had gone through much already.”

“What do you mean by that?” Joel asked, concern came from nowhere.

Tommy sighed deeply, looking away for a moment before meeting Joel's gaze again. "She went through hell before she even got here, Joel.”

Tommy’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken pain. Joel's brow furrowed as he tried to grasp what his brother was saying.

"What do you mean?" Joel asked, his voice low and hesitant, the concern now unmistakable.

Tommy looked at him for a long moment, as if debating whether to reveal something he wasn’t sure Joel was ready to hear. Finally, he sighed, his expression softening with a mix of empathy and frustration.

"She was on her own for a long time before she found Jackson," Tommy began, his tone measured. "Lost her family, everyone she ever cared about. Saw things that would break most people. But she survived. She made it here, and despite everything, she decided to stay and help us. She didn’t have to, but she did. And when you came back hurt and lost, she put everything into helping you, even though she knew it was a risk."

Joel felt a lump forming in his throat as Tommy spoke. He had been so wrapped up in his own struggles that he hadn’t seen the depth of what she had endured.

"And you," Tommy continued, his voice thick with emotion, "you were her last straw, Joel. She let her guard down for you, and you crushed her.

Joel’s heart ached at Tommy’s words. He felt the sting of regret deep in his chest, knowing that he had only added to her pain.

"Tommy, I..." Joel started, but the words failed him. What could he say that would make any of this right?

"You need to understand something, Joel," Tommy said, his voice firm but not unkind. "She’s not just some woman who’s here to patch us up and send us on our way. She’s a survivor, just like us. And she deserves a hell of a lot better than what you gave her."

Joel nodded, feeling the full weight of his actions pressing down on him. He realized now just how much he had taken for granted, how much he had failed to see.

That same afternoon, the weight of his guilt and determination pressing heavily on his chest, Joel made his way to the infirmary. He had rehearsed what he would say a hundred times in his head, but the closer he got, the more uncertain he felt. He needed to talk to you, to apologize, to start making things right.

When he arrived, he hesitated at the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. The familiar smell of antiseptic and the soft hum of activity greeted him as he stepped inside.

You were at the far end of the room, organizing supplies and preparing to leave for the day. Your back was turned to him, and for a moment, he just stood there, unsure of how to start. But then you sensed his presence and turned around, your eyes meeting his.

For a brief second, something flickered in your gaze—recognition, maybe even surprise—but it was quickly replaced by a cold, distant expression.

"Hey," Joel said, his voice sounding more tentative than he intended.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you continued with what you were doing, organizing a stack of medical supplies. It was clear you were trying to keep busy, to avoid engaging with him.

"Can we talk?" Joel asked, taking a cautious step closer.

You paused, your hands stilling for a moment before you turned to face him fully. Your expression was unreadable, your eyes guarded. "I'm busy, Joel," you said, your tone clipped and distant.

Joel felt a pang in his chest at your coldness, but he knew he deserved it. "I know. I just... I wanted to apologize. For everything. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry."

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression hard. "I don’t need your apologies," you replied, your voice steady but laced with an edge of bitterness. "What’s done is done."

Joel swallowed, feeling the sting of your words. "I understand that, but I still want to make things right. I want to try."

You shook your head, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "You can’t just fix this with a few words, Joel. You made it clear how you felt. I was so pathetic for seeking tender love in a world like this, and I was so pathetic for accepting it from you."

Joel flinched at your words, the harsh truth of them cutting deep. He opened his mouth to respond, to say something—anything—that might reach you, but you were already moving past him, grabbing your coat and heading for the door.

"Wait," he said, reaching out to stop you, but you brushed past him without a second glance.

"I’m done with this conversation, Joel," you said over your shoulder, your voice cold and final. "If you have something to say, save it for someone who cares or maybe for when you fuck Lori.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, his heart pounding in his chest as he replayed the conversation in his head. The way you looked at him—so detached, so unlike the sweet person you were—shattered any remaining hope he had of mending things between you. Joel clenched his fists frustration welling up inside him.

And with that, you were gone, leaving Joel standing in the infirmary, the empty room echoing with the silence of everything left unsaid.

Week two.

The distance between you and Joel grew even wider. You kept yourself busy with your duties at the infirmary, throwing yourself into work to avoid thinking about him. Jackson was large enough that it wasn’t hard to avoid each other, especially since you made a point to steer clear of any places where you might run into him.

Joel, on the other hand, wasn’t faring as well. The days felt like they were dragging on, each one heavier than the last. The guilt and the lingering regret of how things had ended between you, was starting to take a toll on him. He found it harder to concentrate on anything, his mind constantly wandering back to you, replaying your last conversation over and over again.

Things hadn’t started bad between the both of you. There was a time, not too long ago, when things between you and Joel had been different—better. When you first arrived in Jackson. He was wary, of course, just as everyone. People with big walls up for protecting the same from the dangers from the outside.

Initially, he had kept his distance, observing you with a cautious eye. But as days turned into weeks, something shifted. You’d taken on the role of a nurse with a quiet determination, and your compassion and dedication gradually began to break through the walls Joel had built around himself.

There was one particular evening when you both found yourselves at a small community gathering. It was one of those special moments for people to unwind and reconnect. Joel, usually reserved and gruff, had shown up with Ellie in tow, and you were surprised to find him engaging in casual conversation, a rare sight indeed.

You and Joel had ended up chatting while sitting around a makeshift bonfire. The conversation had started with practical matters—how best to handle a certain type of injury or a recommendation for new supplies—but soon it evolved into more personal topics. Joel had shared stories from his past life, and you found yourself opening up about your own one.

The old versions of two people trapped in the endless tragedy

The atmosphere was relaxed, and for the first time, you saw a different side of Joel.

Joel was seated across from you, a relaxed look on his face that you rarely saw. His eyes, usually so guarded, were softer tonight. Ellie was nearby, occupied with a makeshift game she’d crafted from scavenged materials.

“So, you actually went through all that trouble for a single, mediocre meal?” you asked, chuckling at Joel’s tale of a particularly botched cooking attempt.

Joel grinned, a rare and genuine smile that lit up his face. “You’d be surprised what we went through to get even a half-decent meal back then. We were pretty desperate.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine. I’m just grateful for what we’ve got now, even if it’s not gourmet.”

Joel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, things are better here. A lot better than they were.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire. You glanced at Joel, noticing how his eyes softened as he spoke. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to have someone who understands what it’s like out there.”

Joel met your gaze, his expression sincere. “And I’m glad you’re here too. You’ve done a lot for everyone. For Ellie, especially.”

For Joel, dealing with all of this started to become unbearable the moment migraines hit. They had started as a dull ache, a constant pressure in his head that he could push through if he focused hard enough. But as the days went on, the pain intensified, becoming sharp and unrelenting. The pounding in his skull would come in waves, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He tried to hide it at first, not wanting anyone to see him weak, but it wasn’t long before people began to notice.

He’d find himself gripping the edges of tables or leaning against walls to steady himself, his vision blurring as the pain surged through him. He hadn’t had migraines like this in years, not since the early days when the world had first gone to hell. But these were different, more intense, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were somehow connected to something else.

Maybe someone, his thoughts screamed.

Tommy noticed too, of course. He had been keeping a close eye on his brother ever since the confrontation in the infirmary, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was wrong.

Joel had just returned from patrol; his face pale and his movements unsteady. As he walked through the door of the house, he winced, his hand pressing against his temple. The migraine had hit him hard, and he was struggling to keep it together.

Tommy was already in the kitchen, grabbing a drink when he noticed Joel’s distress. He set the cup down, crossing the room quickly. “You okay, Joel?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Joel tried to force a casual shrug, but the pain in his head made it difficult. “Yeah, just—” He hesitated, trying to find a plausible excuse. “—just got a bit of a headache. My new patrol partner’s been causing me more stress than usual. You know how it is.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Your new partner? We’ve only had him for a few days. Doesn’t seem like he’d cause this much trouble.”

Joel rubbed his temples more vigorously, trying to stave off the waves of pain. “It’s been rougher than I expected, okay? Just one of those days.”

Tommy didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push the issue further. “Alright, if you say so. But if this keeps up, you should get it checked out. Don’t let it go too long.”

Joel nodded, grateful for Tommy’s concern but unwilling to admit the full extent of his struggle. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need to rest.”

Joel couldn’t even convince himself. He just didn’t find strength to face you.

That evening, the bar was lively, filled with the hum of conversation and laughter. Joel sat at a corner table with Lori, Tommy, and Maria. He was trying to focus on the conversation, but the throbbing pain in his head made it difficult. Lori, noticing his discomfort, kept a concerned eye on him, occasionally reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly.

As you walked in, the bar’s ambient noise seemed to momentarily quieten, and Joel’s gaze instinctively shifted toward you. You moved with purpose, but your demeanor was cold and distant. Tommy and Maria spotted you first and greeted you warmly.

“Hey, it’s good to see you,” Tommy said, waving you over.

Maria offered a friendly smile. “Yeah, come join us.”

You returned their greetings with a nod, but when your eyes met Joel’s, you turned your attention elsewhere, ignoring him completely. Joel shifted in his seat, trying to hide his discomfort, but the strain was visible in the tense lines of his face.

Lori noticed the awkwardness and frowned. “You could at least hide you jealously and stop being a mean bitch” she said to you, loud enough for everyone around to shut.

The bar’s noise seemed to drop as Lori's words cut through the air. You felt every eye on you as the tension escalated.

You turned to Lori, your face hardening. “I’m not here to entertain you or play nice.”

Lori’s face flushed with anger. “Well, if you can’t be civil, then maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”

Joel, trying to defuse the situation, interjected, “Lori, that’s enough.” His voice was strained, both from the growing migraine and the emotional weight of the confrontation. “We don’t need to make this any worse.”

“No! I’m tired of this bitch being a pain to us just because you don’t love her back” she continued, calling you out.

Joel’s face tightened with a mix of frustration and pain. “Lori, seriously, stop. This isn’t helping anyone.”

You stood tall, your voice icy as you spoke. “I don’t need a lecture from you or anyone else. I’ve been nothing but professional, and this—” you gestured between yourself and Joel, “—is a personal matter. I’m done being the target of everyone’s frustration.”

Joel’s gaze wavered, his eyes reflecting the hurt from your words. “You don’t have to be like this.”

“No,” you snapped, “I don’t have to be here at all. If you want to know why I’m acting this way, it’s because I don’t want to be around someone who can’t see my worth.” Your voice cracked with emotion. “You can keep Joel. I don’t want a man who can’t appreciate me.”

You sighed, taking a deep breath. “I’m so done with all your pity because the man I’m in love with doesn’t remember loving me. But life moves on, and so do I. I’m done being the center of anyone’s misplaced sympathy.” You sighed a little, embarrassment creeping up your body “I’m just- I want you all to stop talking about me as if I’m a broken little girl, please.”

With a final, resolute glance at the group and the rest of people inside, you turned and walked out of the bar. The door swung shut behind you, the muffled noise of the bar fading as you stepped into the night.

Joel froze there, the harsh sting of your words lingering.

The man I’m in love with.

Why did you even love him?

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest as he processed your words. The sting of your rejection mixed with the searing pain in his head, making it hard to think clearly. He stood frozen for a moment, watching you leave, his mind racing with regret and confusion.

After a few seconds, he shook himself out of his daze. He could feel Lori’s eyes on him, her frustration still palpable. Ignoring her, Joel pushed himself up from the barstool, his movements tense and hurried.

“Sorry, I need to go,” he muttered, his voice rough and distant. He didn’t wait for a response and headed for the door. As he stepped outside, the cool night air hit him, offering a brief reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the bar.

Joel saw you standing just outside the bar, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. The cool night air seemed to accentuate the solitude you radiated, and the flickering streetlight cast uneven shadows over your face. Joel’s heart ached as he approached, the intensity of his migraine fading into the background compared to the weight of his regret.

He stopped a few feet away, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Hey," he said, his voice rough but gentle. "I didn't mean to... to make things worse tonight."

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. They were red-rimmed, a sign of the emotional toll the evening had taken. "What do you want, Joel?" Your voice was quiet but edged with defiance.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, the words coming out in a rush. "I know I screwed up. I know I can’t undo what’s been done. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. I was a damn fool, and I didn’t see how much you were hurting."

You shook your head, looking away. "It’s too late for apologies. You made your choices."

“I know,” Joel admitted, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“Go back inside to your woman” you said, voice steady yet the truth of the words cut your throat.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with an aching with regret and yearning. He could feel the pounding in his head lessen, as if your presence, though tense and fraught with pain, was soothing the storm within him.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I don't want to go back inside. I came out here to talk to you. I need to explain—"

You cut him off, your voice colder now. "I don’t want explanations, Joel. I want you to be honest with yourself and with me."

Joel's expression faltered, his usual resolve wavering under the weight of his migraine and the emotional strain. "I don't know what to say," he admitted quietly. "Every time I try to make things right, I just seem to make it worse."

"Look," Joel said, taking a step closer, though he kept a respectful distance. "I know I can’t fix everything right now, and I know I’ve hurt you more than I ever intended. But if there's any chance at all to mend things, I want to try. I need to try."

You glanced at him, feeling the strange mix of emotions. His presence, his apology, even his struggle, created a confusing pull. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"Just... take things slow," you said finally, your voice softening slightly. "Show me, don’t just tell me."

You gave him one last, lingering look before turning away, the night air feeling strangely lighter as you walked back toward your house. Joel watched you go, a fragile sense of relief mingled with the lingering weight of his migraine.

Joel nodded, his heart aching.

Week three

The situation between you and Joel remained tense and unresolved. Despite the brief moment outside the bar, there was still an emotional chasm between you two. Meanwhile, Joel's migraines continued to worsen, each one more debilitating than the last. The pain had become a constant companion, gnawing at him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Tommy had been watching his brother closely, his concern growing with each passing day. He had noticed how Joel winced at the slightest noise, how he gripped the edges of tables to steady himself, and how he often retreated to dark corners to try and alleviate the pain. Tommy knew something had to give, and he wasn't sure how much longer Joel could keep this up, especially with patrols still on the agenda.

During the morning, as the patrol assignments were being handed out, Tommy pulled Joel aside. “You sure you’re up for this?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “These migraines… they’re getting worse, Joel.”

Joel nodded, though the movement sent a sharp pain through his temples. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, not wanting to admit how bad things had really gotten. “Just need to keep moving, keep my mind off it.”

Tommy sighed, not entirely convinced. “Alright, but I’m pairing you up with someone who won’t hesitate to call for backup if things go south.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, wondering who Tommy had in mind. His answer came when you walked into the room, your expression unreadable as you glanced at Tommy, then at Joel.

“You’re on patrol with Joel today,” Tommy said, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “Consider it part of the consequences for that little outburst at the bar the other night.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but then closed it, seemingly deciding against saying anything. Instead, you simply nodded, surprising both Tommy and Joel.

Due to your situation with Joel, you would have argued, pushed back, but you didn’t. Whether it was out of a sense of duty, or because you had your own reasons for going along with the assignment, neither man could tell.

Joel looked at you, his expression hard to read. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew that this patrol was going to be anything but ordinary. The tension between you two was palpable, and the fact that you hadn’t fought the assignment left him uneasy.

As the two of you geared up and headed out, the silence between you was thick, neither of you willing to break it first. The path ahead was familiar, but the atmosphere was charged with unresolved emotions and the weight of things left unsaid.

As you and Joel prepared to head out for patrol, Tommy pulled you aside, his expression serious. “Listen, I know things are tense between you two, but if Joel starts feeling bad, you come back immediately. No heroics, no pushing through it. Understood?”

You nodded, not meeting Tommy’s eyes. “Understood,” you replied, your tone neutral. The truth was, you didn’t know how you felt about being on patrol with Joel, but you weren’t going to argue with Tommy’s orders.

Tommy looked at you for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but he held back. Instead, he just gave you a small nod before turning back to Joel, who was adjusting his gear a few feet away.

Joel caught Tommy’s eye, and there was a silent exchange between the brothers—Tommy’s concern evident, and Joel’s stubborn determination clear.

Once outside the gates, the silence stretched between you and Joel, heavy and uncomfortable. The forest around you was quiet, the only sound was the crunch of your boots on the dirt path. You kept your eyes ahead, focused on the task at hand, but you couldn’t help but be aware of Joel’s presence beside you.

As you walked, you noticed something strange. Joel, who had been rubbing his temples and wincing in pain earlier, seemed to be a bit more at ease. The tight lines of pain on his face had softened, and he wasn’t clutching his head like he usually did.

You didn’t want to think too much about it, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your presence had something to do with it.

Joel, too, was aware of the change. He had been bracing himself for another wave of pain, expecting the migraine to hit hard as it had been for days now. But instead, he felt… better. The pain was still there, lurking in the background, but it was muted, manageable. And the only thing that had changed was that you were with him.

As you continued walking, the strange shift in the atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed. Joel glanced at you every now and then, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he was trying to figure out what had changed. You kept your focus straight ahead, but the weight of the unspoken tension between you two was hard to ignore.

After a while, you slowed down and finally came to a stop, gesturing for Joel to halt as well. Without saying anything, you walked over to your horse and untied a small bouquet of flowers that had been carefully wrapped and secured to the saddle.

Joel watched, puzzled, as you held the bouquet tightly in your hand. "Just... just wait for me here for a bit," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a softness to your tone that caught Joel off guard, and he nodded, sensing that whatever you were about to do was important.

You walked a short distance off the path, through the dense trees and underbrush, until you reached a small clearing. The air was still, and the only sound was the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Joel stayed where he was, leaning against his horse, but his eyes followed you, curiosity and concern mingling in his expression.

In the clearing, you knelt down beside a small, unmarked grave, the earth slightly raised from where you had buried your boyfriend two years ago.

You placed the bouquet gently on the grave, your fingers lingering for a moment on the petals. Your heart ached with the familiar pang of loss, the pain of carrying love for someone who was no longer here. It was a pain you had learned to carry with you, but it never really went away.

As you knelt there, a few silent tears slipped down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away. This was a private moment, one you hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Joel. He had no idea about the depth of your loss, about the man you had loved and lost before arriving in Jackson.

When you finally stood up and turned back toward the path, Joel was still waiting, his expression unreadable. You walked back to him in silence, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice soft as his eyes studied your expression.

You didn’t answer right away, your fingers brushing lightly against your jacket. Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "This is where I buried him. My fiancé."

Joel’s heart sank as he remembered the voice of Tommy telling him some things he didn’t even remember about you. And now seeing you here, in this quiet, sacred place, made the weight of your grief all the more real.

"I didn’t know," Joel said, his voice laced with regret. He felt a pang of guilt for not being there for you when you had gone through this, for not understanding just how much you had carried with you all this time. "I’m sorry."

You nodded slowly, still staring at the grave. "It’s been a long time since I’ve come here. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it, but… I guess I needed to say goodbye again. Properly."

Joel stepped closer, his presence a comforting warmth at your side. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to be there, to offer whatever solace he could.

"He was a good man," you continued, your voice stronger now. "He was kind, patient, everything I could have asked for. But this world… it takes everything good and leaves you with nothing but memories."

Joel clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar ache of loss that never truly went away. He knew all too well the pain of losing someone you loved, the emptiness that followed, the way it changed you forever.

"He deserved better," you said, your voice cracking slightly. "He deserved a future, a life. But instead… he got this."

Joel rested his hand gently on your shoulder. "I’m sorry," he repeated, the words feeling inadequate but all he could offer.

But instead of finding solace in his touch, you flinched, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. The grief, the anger, the overwhelming sense of loss—it all came flooding back, and you couldn’t handle it, not right now.

“Don’t touch me, okay?” you said, your voice trembling as you pulled away from him, putting a small but significant distance between you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you needed space, needed to breathe without feeling like you were suffocating under the weight of your emotions.

Joel froze, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before he slowly lowered it, the rejection hitting him harder than he expected. He swallowed, trying to push down the rising tide of guilt and pain that your words had stirred up.

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He knew better than to push, knew that you needed time to process everything on your own. But it didn’t stop the sting of your words from cutting deep, reminding him of all the ways he had failed before, all the ways he had let the people he cared about slip through his fingers.

“Peter was the only man who deserved my love,” you said, your voice laced with a mix of bitterness and sorrow. The truth of it stung, cutting through the air like a blade. You didn’t mean to be cruel, but the words slipped out before you could stop them, a reflection of the turmoil swirling inside you.

Joel swallowed hard, the hurt in his eyes evident as he processed what you had just said. He knew you were grieving, that you were speaking from a place of pain, but it didn’t make the words any easier to hear. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond, his mind reeling from the sudden shift between you.

“I get it,” he finally said, his voice tight with emotion. “You loved him. And he was… he was a good man. Better than me.”

He looked away, unable to meet your gaze, feeling the weight of his own inadequacies bearing down on him.

 “Yes, he was” you said without a doubt. “And that killed him.”

Joel’s heart clenched at your words, the blunt truth of them landing like a blow. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, the weight of your statement pressing down on him. The silence between you grew thicker, charged with the grief and anger that neither of you could fully express.

“He and I had a kid” you confessed, you heart clenched at the memory of that little boy you took care of for five years of your life.

Joel’s head snapped up at your confession, his eyes widening in shock. The weight of what you had just revealed hit him hard, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“He and I… we had a kid,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you forced the words out. Your heart ached at the memory of the little boy you had taken care of, loved, for five years of your life. The pain of losing him, of losing the family you had built, was still fresh, a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal.

Joel’s expression softened, the anger and frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface giving way to something deeper—compassion, understanding, and an overwhelming sense of sorrow for everything you had lost. He could see the pain etched into your features, the way your shoulders slumped under the weight of your grief, and it broke something inside him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He didn’t know what else to say.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, not wanting to break down in front of him. “His name was Sam,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “He was just a baby when we found him, abandoned… we took him in, raised him as our own. And then, one day” you sobbed, “They killed him…Those fucking soldiers killed him.”

“Peter and I had planned on how leaving all behind, he had hear about Jackson from a friend, and then he trusted the wrong people.”

Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he listened to you, the horror and anguish in your voice cutting through him like a knife. He could see the pain etched deeply into your features, the way your body trembled with the force of your grief. The image of what you had endured—losing not just your partner but the child you had raised together, taken away in such a cruel and senseless way—was almost too much to bear.

“They killed him,” you repeated, your voice thick with emotion as tears streamed down your face. “They took everything from me… from us. We just wanted to be safe, to give him a life that meant something. But those soldiers… they didn’t care. They saw us as a threat, as nothing more than collateral damage.”

Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, anger surging through him at the thought of what had been done to you and your family. He knew the kind of world you were living in, where trust was a dangerous thing, and hope could be ripped away in an instant. But knowing it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“I’m so sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He wanted to say more, to find the right words to ease your pain, but everything felt inadequate in the face of such a profound loss.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as you continued. “Peter and I… we had it all planned out. We were going to leave everything behind, start over in Jackson. He had heard about it from a friend, and it seemed like the only chance we had. But… he trusted the wrong people.”

Your voice broke again, the sobs coming harder now as you relived the nightmare. “They promised us safe passage, said they’d get us out. But it was a trap. They turned us over to the soldiers, and Sam… he didn’t stand a chance. He was just a little boy. He didn’t even know what was happening…”

Joel felt a lump in his throat, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he watched you unravel before him.

Without thinking, Joel stepped closer, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer empty words of consolation. He just held you, letting you cry against his chest, his hand gently stroking your back in an attempt to soothe you.

The world had gone eerily quiet after the gunfire ceased, the only sounds left were your ragged breaths and the distant cries of crows circling overhead. You could still feel the heat from Peter’s body fading beneath your hands, his blood soaking into the earth beneath him. The image of his lifeless eyes, staring blankly up at the sky, was seared into your mind, a horrific reminder that he was gone, that the man you loved, the father of your child, was never coming back.

You had been too stunned to cry, too numb to feel anything beyond the cold realization that you were alone.

Hours seemed to pass in a blur before you finally forced yourself to move. You couldn’t stay there, not with Peter’s body cooling beside you, not with the knowledge that those men might come back to finish what they started. So, you rose on shaky legs, your heart pounding in your chest, and stumbled away from the scene of the massacre, your mind numb as you left him behind.

The sun had begun to set by the time you found the old cabin, hidden deep within the woods. It was small, decrepit, with broken windows and a door that hung askew on its hinges, but it was shelter, and that was all that mattered. You pushed open the door and stepped inside, the musty smell of decay filling your nostrils as you surveyed the dark, empty space.

It felt wrong to be alive, to still be breathing when Peter wasn’t, when Sam wasn’t. But survival was instinctual, and something inside you kept pushing you forward, kept you searching for a way to stay alive, even when all you wanted was to curl up and disappear.

You sank to the floor, your back pressed against the rough wooden wall as the tears finally began to fall. They came slowly at first, like a trickle, but soon they turned into gut-wrenching sobs that echoed through the empty cabin. You clutched your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as the storm outside began to roll in.

The wind picked up, howling through the trees and rattling the cabin’s fragile walls. Rain began to pour in heavy sheets, drumming against the roof and leaking through the cracks, pooling on the floor around you. Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark interior in brief, blinding bursts, and the thunder that followed was so loud it shook the very foundation of the cabin.

You were alone for the first time in years, truly, devastatingly alone. The weight of that realization crushed you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think of anything other than the emptiness that stretched out before you. The storm outside mirrored the chaos inside you, the violence of it a reflection of the torment that raged in your heart.

Maria and a group of people found you two days later

And you had become terrified of storms ever since.  

You stiffened in Joel’s arms, the overwhelming flood of emotions too much. You couldn’t let yourself be comforted, couldn’t let someone else get close, not after everything you’d lost. The fear of opening up, of allowing yourself to be vulnerable again, was suffocating.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you stepped back, pulling away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

Joel’s arms fell to his sides, the rejection clear in his eyes as he took a step back, giving you the space you needed. The hurt in his expression was evident, but he didn’t push, didn’t try to reach out for you again.

“You just feel pity because you see me as a broken doll” you said.

Joel’s expression tightened, his brow furrowing as your words cut through the air like a knife. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, clearly struggling with how to convey what he was feeling. The accusation hung between you, heavy and bitter, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

“I don’t—” Joel started, his voice low and rough. He took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable. “I don’t see you that way.”

“Then why are you here, Joel?” you demanded, your voice rising with the pent-up frustration and pain. “Why are you trying so hard to be… whatever this is? You didn’t care before, but now you do because I’m broken?”

“How were you so sweet to everyone after what happened?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of disbelief. It was as if he couldn’t comprehend how you managed to keep going, how you could still find kindness within you after everything you’d endured.

You looked at him, your expression softened by the lingering sadness, but there was a strength behind your eyes, a resilience that had kept you moving forward. “Because I didn’t lose them because of you all,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the pain that laced your words. “I wasn’t going to become angry at the people who gave me another chance.”

The truth of your statement hung in the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. You had chosen to protect the small bit of humanity you had left, to hold onto the kindness that others had shown you when you needed it most. But that didn’t mean the anger, the grief, or the pain had disappeared—it was still there, buried deep, threatening to consume you if you let it.

Joel looked down, his shoulders sagging slightly as he absorbed what you said. He understood the weight of guilt, the way it could twist inside you, making you question everything. He had carried his own burden of guilt for years, but hearing you speak those words, seeing the strength it took for you to hold onto the good in the face of so much loss, it humbled him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words barely above a whisper. “I wish I could take it all back, change what happened. What I did to you and how I treated you the morning you woke up in my bed” he sighed, “Sorry for not remember what happened between us”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with a quiet, resigned sadness. “It doesn’t change anything, Joel. It’s done. I can’t change the past either.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling heavily on him. The finality in your voice, the distance between you, made him feel even more lost, and he turned away, the ache of regret and loss deepening with each step he took.

Joel walked away, his steps heavy and deliberate. The weight of your words hung over him, a constant reminder of the things he couldn’t change, the pain he had caused. Each step felt like a step further from any hope of repairing what had been broken.

You watched him go, the solitude of the moment pressing in around you. The quiet was suffocating, filled with the echoes of the past and the weight of unspoken words. You turned back toward the grave, the memories of what you had lost mingling with the present pain.

A simple affair, torturing you.

+

Grieving the death and grieving the living were taking a tool on you.

Week four

A week had passed since that tense confrontation. The days had been a blur of activity and emotional exhaustion, the storm within you a constant companion. The quiet conversations with others and the daily routines in Jackson offered little distraction from the lingering sadness, but they kept you moving forward, one step at a time.

Everyone could say than a simply affair would dissipate with the time, that each week would make you unlove Joel, but you couldn’t take a complete distance from your lingering feelings.

And Joel? Joel had kept his distance, following your request for space. His presence was felt in the background, a reminder of the unresolved tension and the feelings that had been left hanging in the air. You had seen him around, in passing, but there was an unspoken agreement that he would not intrude upon your space.

He couldn’t bear to face you.

One morning, as you prepared for another day at the infirmary due to Tommy’s request, you found yourself in the familiar surroundings of the clinic. The routine was a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. The soft hum of medical equipment and the scent of antiseptic filled the air, offering a sense of order and control.

As you were organizing supplies and checking on your patients, a familiar voice broke through the calm. “Hey.”

You looked up from your tasks to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of hesitation and resolve. He seemed slightly out of place in the clinical setting, but there was a determined look in his eyes.

“Joel,” you greeted, your voice steady but tinged with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Joel took a step inside, his gaze scanning the room before settling on you.

“I’ve been trying to find the right time to give this to you,” Joel said, his voice a bit rough, as if he was struggling to find the right words.

Curiosity mingled with the apprehension you felt. “What is it?”

Joel took a deep breath, stepping closer but still maintaining a respectful distance. “It’s a little something I thought might help. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I wanted to offer it to you anyway.”

You hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take the package from him. It was small and wrapped simply, the gesture surprisingly thoughtful given the circumstances. You carefully unwrapped it, revealing a worn leather-bound journal. The cover was embossed with a delicate pattern, and as you opened it, you found pages filled with blank lines, waiting for your thoughts and feelings.

“You can write on it,” Joel said softly. “And I thought maybe, if you wanted to, this could be a place for you to put everything that’s been on your mind. It’s not much, but I thought it might help.”

The gesture was unexpected, and as you looked up at Joel, you could see the genuine care in his eyes. It was a small attempt to bridge the gap between you, to offer something meaningful despite the unresolved pain.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice almost choked with emotion. “It’s… thoughtful.”

Joel nodded, a small, almost relieved smile touching his lips. “I hope it helps, even just a little.”

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of the past week settling in the air. Joel’s eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of the connection that had once been there, while you felt the tug of conflicting emotions—appreciation for the gesture, but also the lingering pain of his actions.

“How are your migraines doing?” You asked.

Joel looked slightly taken aback by your question, the personal nature of it a stark contrast to the more distant conversation that had been unfolding. He studied your face for a moment, perhaps surprised by your concern.

“They’re getting worse every day,” he admitted, his voice carrying a weight of weariness. “But today, I’m feeling a bit better. It’s been rough, though. The migraines have been relentless.”

You felt a rush of blood to your cheeks, concern and embarrassment at the question. “Tommy mentioned it,” you said quickly, wanting to clarify your source of information. “I just—well, I wanted to know how you’re doing.”

Joel nodded, his eyes softening slightly. “Thanks for asking. It means a lot. It’s been tough, but I’m managing.”

The vulnerability in his admission made you feel a pang of empathy. It was hard to see him struggling, especially when you had your own unresolved feelings and painful memories.

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a better moment today,” you said, your voice steadying as you tried to offer some comfort.

Joel’s expression grew more thoughtful, and he gave a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, I’m holding onto that. Thanks for checking in.”

The silence between you was charged with unspoken emotions. You both stood there, the weight of your recent conversations lingering in the air. Joel looked like he was about to say something else, but instead, he gave a nod and started to walk away.

“Take care,” you called after him, the words carrying a genuine warmth despite the emotional distance that remained between you.

You had settled onto a barstool, a glass of whiskey in hand. The amber liquid was smooth and comforting, its warmth spreading through you as you took a sip. The effects of the alcohol were starting to take hold, making everything feel just a little more relaxed, a little more bearable.

Joel was at the bar, nursing a drink of his own. He hadn’t been particularly social that night, just sitting in his usual spot, lost in his thoughts. As the evening wore on and you became tipsier, you found yourself drawn to him, the comfort of familiarity outweighing the shyness that normally kept you at a distance.

You slid off your stool and made your way over to Joel, the room spinning slightly as you approached him. “Hey,” you said, your voice a bit louder than intended, carrying the cheerful buzz of someone who’d had a few too many drinks. “Mind if I join you?”

Joel looked up from his glass, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Sure, have a seat,” he replied, gesturing to the empty stool next to him.

You plopped down beside him, the warmth of his presence surprisingly comforting. “You know,” you said, leaning in slightly and grinning, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here this early before. You’re usually so… serious.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound of a low rumble that was both soothing and grounding. “Yeah, I guess I am. Just needed a drink tonight.”

In the afternoon, the usually calm atmosphere of the infirmary was disrupted by the sound of the door swinging open with a sense of urgency. Joel stumbled inside, his face pale and etched with pain. He moved slowly, his usual steady gait faltering under the weight of his unbearable migraines.

You looked up from your work, your heart sinking at the sight of him. He was clearly in distress, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to shut out the world. You quickly set aside what you were doing and hurried over to him.

“What do you want?” you asked, intending to sound too rude.

“I—” Joel started, but the words were interrupted by a sharp grimace of pain. “I can’t take it anymore. The migraines… they’re just too much.”

“From one to ten? How much is the pain?” you asked.

“What’s that bullshit?” He cried out.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your own frustration in check. Despite the roughness of Joel’s response, you could see that he was in genuine distress, and you needed to get a handle on his pain level to help him effectively.

“It’s just a way to measure how bad the pain is,” you explained, your voice firm but compassionate. “On a scale from one to ten, where one is no pain and ten is the worst pain, you’ve ever felt, where are you right now?”

Joel clenched his teeth, his face twisted with agony as he tried to focus. “It’s… it’s an eight,” he finally managed to say through gritted teeth.

He had saved that ten.

 The ten was the amount of pain he had when he lost Sarah.

A ten was the pain his heart felt when he looked at you from the distance.

You nodded, quickly assessing the situation. “Alright, I’m going to get you something stronger for the pain. Try to sit down and breathe slowly. I’ll be right back.”

As you hurried to prepare a stronger medication, you felt the weight of the past few weeks pressing heavily on you. The bitterness in your words and his pain seemed to intertwine, creating a tense atmosphere that was hard to ignore. But your focus remained on getting Joel the relief he needed.

You quickly gathered the necessary medication and made your way back to Joel, who had seated himself on one of the examination tables. As you approached, you noticed his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were squeezed shut as if he was trying to block out the pain and your presence.

"Let me check your head," you said softly, your voice gentle despite the tension that hung between you. "I need to make sure there's nothing else going on."

Joel nodded slightly, his face still contorted in discomfort. As you leaned in to examine his head, your proximity made his breath catch in his lungs. The closeness between you seemed to amplify the charged atmosphere, making the air around you feel heavy.

You carefully placed your hands on his temples, your touch light but firm as you assessed his condition. Joel's breath became shallow and uneven, a sign that he was acutely aware of your closeness. He tensed under your touch, the intensity of his pain mixed with the vulnerability of the moment.

"How's that feel?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you moved your fingers over his forehead and the sides of his head.

Joel swallowed hard, his eyes still closed as he tried to focus on your touch rather than the pain. "Feels… a bit better," he managed to say, though his voice was strained. "Just… don’t know if I can handle this much longer."

You gave a reassuring nod, trying to offer comfort despite the lingering tension. "You're doing great. The medication should help soon. Just hang in there a little longer."

You both could feel your breathing mingling together, the agony of the closeness taking everything from you.

Joel closed his eyes for a bit, feeling you scent and your fingertips on his temples. In the haze of his agony, there were fleeting glimpses of a night that felt both distant and achingly familiar. He remembered the warmth of your touch, the softness of your lips against his. The kiss you had shared the night before he got his memory back began to resurface, bringing with it a surge of emotions he had long tried to bury.

The kiss had been tender. Joel could almost feel the echo of that moment now, a soft, lingering taste of intimacy that was both comforting and heartbreaking.

He remembered the way you had looked at him, the way your eyes had softened with unspoken words. The image of your face, so close to his, the way you had smiled before the kiss, replayed in his mind with a clarity that cut through the pain. It was as if your closeness was pulling these memories to the surface, forcing him to confront them once more.

Joel’s breath caught as he recalled the warmth of your lips, the way it had felt to hold you close. It was a vivid contrast to the overwhelming pain he was experiencing now, and it made him realize just how much he had missed and lost. The memory of that kiss, the feeling of being connected to you, made his heart ache with a mix of longing and regret.

He let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to ground himself in the present while the memories swirled around him. As much as the past few weeks had been a struggle, this moment of closeness with you was stirring up feelings he had tried to keep buried. Joel’s eyes opened slightly, looking at you with a vulnerability that he hadn’t shown before.

“Sun…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

The sound of "Sun" coming from his lips felt almost foreign, yet deeply familiar. It was a term of endearment he had used before his memory loss, one that had held a special place between you two.

“Sun…” he repeated, the word carrying tenderness and longing.

Your heart skipped a beat, the nickname a bittersweet reminder of the bond you had shared. It was a small yet significant piece of the past surfacing, offering a glimmer of connection despite everything that had happened.

You felt a rush of conflicting emotions, the glimmer of hope mingling with a deep-seated fear of revisiting old wounds. The nickname, the touch, the faint echo of past affection—it all stirred up feelings you weren't sure you were ready to confront.

Taking a steadying breath, you stepped back, your hand moving quickly to hand him the medication. “Here,” you said, your voice steady as you handed him the small packet of pills. “This should help with the pain. You should head home and rest.”

Joel looked up at you, a flicker of understanding and disappointment in his eyes. He could sense the shift in your demeanor, the way you were putting distance between you both. “You sure you don’t need any help?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No, I’m fine. Just… please, go home. A storm is coming, and you should get back before it hits.”

Joel hesitated for a moment longer, but the look in your eyes told him that you needed space, that pushing further would only cause more pain. With a reluctant nod, he took the medication and turned to leave, his steps heavy with the weight of what was left unsaid.

As he walked out of the infirmary, you watched him go, the storm outside a stark parallel to the storm brewing inside you. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady yourself against the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The fleeting connection, the memories stirred up—it was all too much to handle right now.

You were a bit tipsy, the effects of the whiskey making your steps a little unsteady. Joel walked beside you, his presence a steady anchor amidst the haze of your inebriation. You were both quiet, the conversation from the bar having dwindled into comfortable silence.

As you approached your house, you turned to him, a small, tipsy smile playing on your lips. The intimacy of the evening and the warmth of his proximity were too comforting to ignore. Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. The action was impulsive, driven by a mix of affection and the blurred boundaries of alcohol.

Joel's reaction was immediate. He responded to the kiss, his arms finding their way around you as he deepened the connection. There was a brief moment where the world seemed to hold its breath, the kiss a sweet and tender promise of something more.

When you finally pulled back, your faces were flushed, and you looked at him with a mixture of uncertainty and contentment. Joel’s eyes were filled with a mix of surprise and warmth, the kiss having ignited something within him that he hadn’t anticipated.

“Good night, Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft and slightly slurred as you turned to go inside.

Joel watched you enter your house, his thoughts swirling in the wake of the kiss. He felt a strange blend of hope and confusion, uncertain about what the kiss meant for both of you. But the feelings were there, undeniable and strong.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow in your bedroom. You woke up with a throbbing headache, the remnants of last night a blurry haze. As you shuffled through your routine, the details of the previous evening remained frustratingly out of reach. The bar, the tipsy laughter, Joel walking you home—these were fragments, but the kiss itself was a complete blank.

When you encountered Joel later that day, you greeted him cheerfully, assuming nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Hey, Joel. How’s it going?”

Joel’s response was curt, his eyes avoiding yours. “Hey. I’m alright.”

You noticed the shift in his demeanor, the coldness in his tone. It was as if he was keeping you at arm's length, his usual warmth replaced with a frigid distance. You tried to brush it off, attributing it to a possible bad mood or personal issue.

Joel had resolved never to bring up the kiss, his feelings of hurt and confusion simmering beneath the surface. He’d come to see the incident as a miscommunication, a misunderstanding that he’d decided to keep buried rather than confront. The bitterness of feeling forgotten and dismissed had solidified into a quiet, unspoken rift between you.

Joel found himself unable to shake the feeling of the day's events. The migraine had ebbed slightly during the patrol, but as soon as he was back in his house, the pain returned, gnawing at him with a persistent, dull ache.

The house was quiet, save for the steady patter of rain against the windows. The storm outside was fierce, the wind howling and the rain pouring down in relentless sheets. Joel’s mood matched the tempest outside—stormy, unsettled.

As he was trying to organize his gear and get ready for bed, his eyes fell upon something on a chair near the door. It was the blouse you had lost that morning when he pushed you away from him, a soft, familiar fabric that he recognized immediately. He picked it up, holding it gently, and his mind replayed that morning events.

Joel held the blouse up to his face, breathing in deeply. The scent was faint but unmistakable—a mix of the outdoors, a hint of your perfume, and something more personal, something that reminded him of you. As the scent reached his senses, it hit him with a wave of emotions he hadn’t fully processed until now. He felt a rush of regret and longing. The migraine that had been a constant presence in his head now seemed to fade slightly as he held the blouse. The emotional weight of his actions, the pain he had caused you, and the gulf that had grown between you all came rushing back

You sat in the dimly lit living room of your small house, wrapped in a blanket, trying to find some semblance of comfort amidst the chaos outside. The storm had intensified, the wind howling and the rain slashing against the windows with a ferocity that made the walls tremble. Every rumble of thunder and flash of lightning felt like a jolt to your already frayed nerves.

You tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself from the fear that had settled deep in your chest. The living room was sparsely decorated, the bare walls and simple furnishings reflecting the practical, no-frills life you had tried to build for yourself. But tonight, it all seemed cold and empty, unable to offer you the comfort you so desperately needed.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight, and sleep was elusive. The noise of the storm outside seemed to drown out any thoughts of rest. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, trying to stave off the chill that had little to do with the temperature and everything to do with the lonely feeling that had enveloped you.

As you huddled on the couch, the flashes of lightning illuminated the room in brief, stark bursts. Each flash cast eerie shadows on the walls, making the storm outside feel even more menacing. You found yourself jumping at every crack of thunder, your heart racing with each one.

Part of you wanted to reach out to someone, but who? The distance between you and Joel felt insurmountable, and you had made it clear that you wanted to be left alone.

The living room was filled with the sound of the storm, punctuated only by your occasional sighs and the rustling of the blanket around you. You tried to focus on breathing deeply, calming yourself in the midst of the chaos. But as the storm raged on, so did the turmoil within you.

It was during a particularly intense flash of lightning that you heard a knock on the door. Your heart leaped into your throat, and you froze. Another knock, louder this time, followed by a faint call. “It’s Joel. Can I come in?”

The voice was muffled by the storm, but it was unmistakable. Your emotions were a whirlwind of confusion and surprise. You hesitated, wondering why he would come here, why he would seek you out now, but the desperation in his voice made you move towards the door.

You opened it cautiously, the cold wind rushing in and mingling with the warmth of the living room. Joel stood there, drenched from the rain, his face lined with worry and a mixture of other emotions that you couldn’t quite place.

“Joel,” you said, barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

He looked at you with an expression that was a mix of regret, concern, and something softer that you couldn’t quite define.

Words weren’t need for moments like these. Two hearts beating as the silence felt like freedom of the remised prisoner love victim of the passage of time, the destiny or perhaps the fate of cursing spells.

It was there for you to see it and it was there for him to see it, but blindness was his curse. Not remembering was his curse. Joel wasn’t incapable of loving someone, but he was terrified of the pieces of the old him coming to the present where losing people was a daily occurrence.

Joel was terrified of loving and losing the last flame of goodness left in this mad world that had tainted people, but you. There was a pure innocence in your eyes, in your actions and in your kindness and he had come to face his old him through you, the old him that had died with his daughter years ago.

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes reflecting the soft light from the flickering candles. His voice was a murmur, almost lost in the howling of the storm outside. “You’re afraid of storms.”, he said quietly, his voice low and gentle. It wasn’t a question. He was stating a fact, something you had confessed to him when the love affair between you was burning. 

You looked at him, the realization dawning on you like the slow break of dawn. “You remember.” You whispered.

And you could only hear the steady beat of your own heart and the sound of Joel’s breathing.

I tagged everyone interested in part 2 but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed () if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me

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@missladym1981

[misswynters]

Aemond Targaryen as your husband: headcanon

[a/n: there are some sensual undertones here so if you don’t wanna read that you can skip it. it’s after the seperator

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

similar | jace | aegon | cregan | daeron | gwayne

Aemond is fiercely protective of you. His intense loyalty means he is always by your side, ensuring your safety and well-being. He often places himself between you and any perceived threat, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword.

Aemond isn’t one for grand romantic gestures, but his love for you is evident in the small things. He brushes your hair out of your face, ensures your chambers are always warm, and leaves books he thinks you’d enjoy on your bedside table.

As your husband, Aemond values your opinion on matters of state and politics. He seeks your counsel in private, trusting your judgment and treating you as an equal partner in all decisions.

Aemond admires your intelligence and enjoys engaging in deep conversations with you. Whether it’s discussing the histories of Westeros, strategy, or philosophy, he relishes the intellectual stimulation you provide.

Aemond respects your strength and encourages you to train with him. He enjoys sparring sessions where you both hone your skills, often leading to playful banter and mutual admiration.

You and Aemond have an unspoken bond, sharing secrets that no one else knows. He trusts you implicitly and confides in you about his deepest fears and ambitions.

Despite his stern exterior, Aemond has a soft spot for you. In private, he’s tender and gentle, often holding you close and whispering sweet nothings that contrast sharply with his public demeanor.

Aemond enjoys gifting you rare and precious items, from intricate jewelry to exotic silks. He takes pride in finding unique treasures that reflect your tastes and interests.

One of your favorite pastimes is riding Vhagar together. The thrill of soaring through the skies, feeling the wind in your hair, and the shared experience of dragon riding brings you closer. Aemond often points out landmarks and recounts stories from his childhood as you fly.

Aemond’s loyalty to you is unwavering. He defends your honor fiercely and would go to great lengths to protect you from harm. His love is intense and all-consuming, leaving no room for doubt.

Through your relationship, Aemond learns to open up more emotionally. Your patience and understanding help him grow, allowing him to express his feelings more freely and strengthening your bond.

Aemond is your biggest supporter. Whether you’re pursuing a personal project or navigating court politics, he’s always there to offer encouragement and practical advice.

Aemond is devoted to your future children. He takes an active role in their upbringing, ensuring they are well-educated and trained. He often tells them stories of his own adventures and the legacy of House Targaryen.

Despite the challenges you face, your bond with Aemond is unbreakable. Together, you are a formidable team, facing the world with strength and determination. Your love for each other is a constant source of comfort and inspiration, guiding you through the trials of life in Westeros.

Aemond’s eye always finds you in a room full of people. The way he looks at you, with a mix of desire and admiration, sends shivers down your spine. His gaze alone can make you feel cherished and wanted.

In private, Aemond’s touches are gentle and deliberate. He traces his fingers along your skin, memorizing every curve and line. Whether it’s a light touch on your hand or a caress along your back, he makes you feel treasured.

Aemond’s kisses are a mix of urgency and tenderness. He captures your lips with an intensity that leaves you breathless, his hands cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Late at night, when the castle is quiet, Aemond whispers sweet and sultry words in your ear. He tells you of his desires, his dreams, and how deeply he loves you. His voice, low and husky, wraps around you like a warm embrace.

Aemond takes his time when you’re having sex. He believes in savoring every moment, exploring your body with a careful and practiced touch. His focus is entirely on your pleasure, ensuring you feel loved and satisfied.

There’s a powerful, unspoken connection between you. A single look from Aemond can communicate a thousand words. In moments of intimacy, you don’t need to speak; your bodies and souls understand each other perfectly.

After a long day, Aemond loves to hold you close. He wraps his arms around you, his body shielding yours. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart are the ultimate comfort, making you feel safe and adored. Giving you the love that his mother didn’t give him.

Aemond is particularly affectionate in the mornings. He wakes you with soft kisses on your neck and shoulders, his hands gently exploring your body as he whispers good morning. These moments set a loving tone for the day ahead.

Aemond enjoys sharing baths with you. The intimacy of washing each other, feeling the warm water and his hands on your skin, creates a deep bond. He loves to see you relaxed and content, and he takes his time, making sure every touch is soothing and sensual.

Despite his duties, Aemond finds time for secret sex. Whether it’s a secluded garden or a hidden room in the castle, he ensures you have moments of privacy to express your love and passion freely.

banner by: @cafekitsune

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence, human trafficking.

Word Count: 949

Previously On...: You watched some home movies of Jade in her Hydra facility. It was... disturbing, to say the least.

A/N: Rock me, rock me, rock me, Sexy Jesus! He died for our sins, you gotta believe us! Seriously, Hamlet 2 is a gem, and now this song is stuck in my head forever.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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You and Bucky were silent as you closed your laptop. What could one say after watching a person you knew, personally, rip through a group of people as though they were wrapping paper on Christmas morning? There were no words.

After several long minutes, Bucky finally spoke. “After seeing that,” he said, “I think it’s all the more reason to make sure you don’t leave this safehouse unless you absolutely have to.”

“Yeah,” you said, devoid of all your previous fight. How could you argue with him about your safety after having seen that?

Bucky looked at you in surprise, as though he had expected you to challenge him. He nodded curtly. “Good,” he said. “Alright. We need a game plan. Did you come up with any leads about that Chloe girl that we can follow up on?”

You sighed. “Yeah,” you said, opening up a new tab in your browser. “So, Chloe mentioned her family was having money problems. I was able to figure out where her mom and step father do their banking; I thought we could take a look at their accounts, see if there’s any unusual activity that might point to them getting a share of her auction price. Then maybe we could trace the deposit back to whoever did the sale.”

“You think her parents knowingly participated in trafficking their own kid?” Bucky asked in horror. “Pocket, that’s dark.”

You avoided looking at him as you opened up a backdoor into the accounts in question. “You’d be surprised what people are willing to do when money gets involved. Not even a mother/daughter bond is immune from that kind of greed.”

 Bucky’s gaze on you was almost tangible in its intensity. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard for me to envision a mother betraying her child like that; sometimes I forget you had to live it.”

“But you told Carthage about it,” you said softly. “At the mission debrief. When she said trafficking was below our paygrade.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky turned your chin so you were facing him. “I told her that human trafficking was something you and Nat both cared very deeply about stopping; that’s it.” He frowned. “I don’t expect you to believe me and that’s okay, but I would never divulge your past to anyone. Not when I know how few people you trusted with that information. I just wanted her to stop acting like it was some kinda game and to treat it as seriously as it deserved to be treated.”

“Oh,” you said after a moment. Something in his words rang true, but there was still the lingering doubt that he was being honest. “Don’t worry about, Barnes,” you said, studiously avoiding eye contact as you breached the bank’s security system. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

You could feel him staring at you, and you didn’t need to be looking back to envision the look he was giving you— the one that let you know he thought you were full of shit. Fortunately, he allowed your lie to pass without another word while you continued to breach the bank’s system. 

“Okay, I’m in,” you said after a moment. Bucky got up and came to stand behind you, looking at your monitor over your shoulder.

“Anything?” he asked.

You scrolled through Chloe’s stepfather’s transaction history. Liquor stores, smoke shops, some escort services. “Real classy guy,” you murmured. And then, you hit it: the night Chloe had left the club for good, there was a substantial deposit made to the account in the amount of $250,000.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “I figured he might get a cut, but I had no idea it would be that much.”

Bucky let out a long, low whistle. “If that’s their finder’s fee, I can’t imagine what the final sale was for.” 

You were furiously copying down the depositing account’s information. “I’m going to send this info back to Nat,” you told him. “See if they can reverse-search it and find out where the money came from. Once we know the source, we might be able to break into their systems, get info on who won the auctions. Maybe some of the other girls are still alive…” Your voice trailed off. You were too jaded to allow yourself to hope you could save all of them, but if you could save even one…

Bucky began moving toward the apartment’s front door, grabbing his leather jacket from where he’d hung it on a hook.

“Where are we going?” You asked him, closing your laptop and standing up.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” he informed you as he put the jacket on. “I’m going to go have a little chat with Chloe’s stepfather, see if there’s any additional information he’d like to generously offer us. You are going to stay here, locked securely behind the door and not opening it for any reason until I get back.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the images of Jade moving through the Hydra compound, slaughtering everyone in her path rose to your mind. You nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you.” Bucky released a relieved sigh, then walked over to you, kissing the top of your head. “If anything happens, call me, and I’ll head straight back. If Carthage shows up, there’s a gun in the bedside table. Aim to kill.”

“Obviously,” you told him. “I’ve only been fantasizing about it since I found out about Russia.”

“I’m being serious, doll,” Bucky said. “Now that we’ve seen what she’s capable of, I don’t want you taking any chances.”

“Yeah,” you said as you walked him to the door and opened it for him, “I was being 100% serious, too.”

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[nekoannie-chan]

Wrong chose

Wrong chose

Title: Wrong chose.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader, ? X Reader.

Word count: 952 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: You think Steve’s gonna be with you for the rest of your lives.

Major Tags: Sad, heartbroken, time travel.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @caplanbuckybarnes Songs4Caplan Challenge with the song:

"Rolling in the deep by Adele."

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

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In a small hidden cafe, Steve sat in the corner, sipping a coffee while watching the people go by. You entered the café looking for Steve, they had arranged to meet there.

When Steve saw you, he looked up and smiled. You approached the table; everything had been so strange since the click.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I'm fine, I just needed a break,” you replied.

You and Steve spent the night talking, laughing and sharing stories.

Despite everything that had happened, the life you now led was almost what you had always wanted, except for one thing... As much as you had tried, you still didn't have a baby.

One night, days after the Blip, Steve came into the room, you noticed the confusion and pain in his eyes.

“I don't know what to do,” he confessed, taking your hands in his.

“What's wrong, Steve? “you asked him, worried.

“As you know, Tony has found a way to travel through time, which is what we used to get the gems and well I don't know, I was thinking...” he said, his voice trembling. I could go back and be with Peggy, and live the life I always wanted.

“You have to do what you feel is right,” you said, leaving the room, you knew that if you stayed there, you would cry.

Steve followed you and stopped you, kissed you with an intensity that made you forget everything else; and then without saying a word, he hugged me. You felt his tears in my hair and knew this was as hard for him as it was for me.

“I love you,” you whispered in his ear, knowing it was the last time you could say those words to him.

“I love you too,” he replied.

The day Steve would leave came; while he was surrounded by the others, you were at a safe distance, you thought no one saw you, but Brock noticed what was happening.

You and Brock had been in a relationship years before you met Steve, when Steve showed up, you guys split up.

And as soon as you saw him disappear in the time machine, you decided it was time to leave too, you knew your life would never be the same again.

A month later

You were startled when you heard someone ringing your doorbell, you had finally moved into the house your parents had inherited from you, Steve didn't know about it, so he wouldn't look for you.

You hardly ever had visitors, so you thought maybe it was the girl scouts selling cookies.

When you opened the door you were surprised to see Brock.

“It's been a while, you didn't come back,” he said.

“I have no reason to come back,” you replied, letting him pass.

“Ever since I met you, you told me you've always wanted to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. ”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer exists and you know it,” you interrupted him.

“It's because of him, isn't it? ”

You kept quiet, you hadn't told anyone what you had found out a few weeks ago.

“I can arrange everything so that they don't meet, but we need you...”

“No, Brock, I can't go back... I'M PREGNANT! “You blurted out, but immediately covered your mouth with your hands, you were never supposed to tell anyone that secret.

“He went away and left you knowing that.... “Brock clenched his fist; you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“He didn't know, I found out the day after he went into the past, he can't find out. ”

“Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. I never really stopped loving you and that baby needs a father. ”

“Brock... ”

Brock came over and kissed you.

You knew that your son would never meet his biological father, but he would have the perfect father as Brock immediately began to set up the room and everything they would need.

You gave birth to a beautiful baby boy who looked exactly like Steve. Both Brock and you decided that you would not tell anyone about the baby, you would protect him from everything and everyone, and you were not going to allow him to be separated from you.

One day, while you were walking with your son in the park Brock had gone to buy him the balloon he wanted. You turned around when you felt you were being watched, and that's when you saw Steve, you recognized him even though he looked different.

“I came back,” he said, approaching you.

“Why? “You asked him, trying to stay calm, you didn't want the baby to start crying.

“Because I love you and I can't live without you,” he answered.

“Steve, you can't be here,” I said, your voice starting to shake.

Steve looked at you in disbelief and then at the baby, he was confused, trying to understand what was happening.

“My son? “he asked, surprised.

“He's my son, we don't need you, he has the ideal father and it's not yours. ”

“But he is my son... ”

“I can't let you take him away too,” you said firmly. My son can't be part of your world. ”

Steve tried to protest, but you stopped him.

“You must go back to the past and live your life with Peggy. It's best for all of us. ”

“Peggy and I divorced, the children she said were mine... ”

“I don't care. I don't care. ”

“You'd better go, Rogers.” Brock appeared behind you. Steve was startled at the sound of his voice.

“You guys...? ”

“Bye Rogers “Brock carefully took you by the shoulders to lead you away from the place.

[halsteadlover]

𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Adam Ruzek x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by @rsquared31: She and Adam are either still in the stages of flirting or early on in a new relationship together. Something happens to her and Adam rushes to get to her, but then internally struggles between going after the attacker or running directly to her - not wanting the asshole to get away, wanting to tackle him and make him pay for daring to hurt her, but also wanting to see if she was ok and be the one to help her. She’s taken to the hospital, where the injury was bad enough for her to be out/unconscious for a while? Adam stays with her and refuses to leave. He makes some admissions when she wakes up.

• Warnings: mention of blood, injury, drug, throwing up, tiny bit of swearing.

• Word count: 4456.

• A/N: this is the first time writing for someone who isn’t Jay and I’m so nervous 😭 it’s ugly as fuck but are we even surprised? I hope you like it anyway. please let me know what do you think and feel free to give me any advice or send me ideas for new stories! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ❤️ thank you so much for the amazing support you showed me and for encouraging me to challenge myself and write for other characters, I love you all xx

“Good morning darling,” a voice caught your attention.

You were in the break room pouring some coffee – which you already knew would be awful – into your cup. Before you even turned around a smile appeared on your lips, having recognized who that voice belonged to. You would’ve recognized it among another million people.

You turned your face to a smiling and impossibly handsome Adam who didn't even try to hide the cheeky way his eyes studied every inch of your body.

“Good morning to you handsome,” you returned his greeting trying not to stammer and blush in front of his intense and provocative gaze. But you couldn't hide the way your heart whirled in your chest, almost skipping a beat, or the way every cell in your body woke up from the excitement.

Excitement of what? He hadn't done anything but look at you and you were already a complete mess.

The power this man had over you.

“Indeed it's a really good morning,” he replied, hands in his pockets as his eyes looked you up and down your body without shame and restraint, stopping on your ass. His tongue wet his lips as he tried to suppress the ever-growing urge to get his hands anywhere on your body.

He confidently walked over you, your cheeks burning as he leaned against the edge of the kitchen right next to you. The way he looked at you, his head tilted slightly to the side, a winky smile on his lips, his light-brown eyes looking up at you so intently they seemed to want to read into you. God, you'd drop everything and get down on your knees.

“You know Adam, I'm not just a piece of meat,” you pretended to be offended, as if it really didn’t flatter you to know he was attracted to you, as if you didn’t crave his eyes on you every minute, every second of the day. You took a sip of your coffee, trying to mask your disgust.

Adam chuckled. “It's not my fault, I can't help it if you're so beautiful,” he replied flirtatiously exploding every ounce of self-control you possessed, “This is for me isn't it?” he pointed the coffee.

He smiled as he noticed the blush on your cheeks and the way you tried to hide it. God, that was one of the things he most loved about you. How could you be so beautiful? So hot and sexy but so cute at the same time?

Adam stopped trying to explain to himself what he felt about you long time ago, the way you drove him crazy, the way he was always thinking about you, continuously, always, constantly.

“Oh yeah it's all yours,” you said, handing him the cup of coffee without hesitation. His fingers brushed yours as you did so and a shiver ran down your spine, giving you goosebumps. You tried to stop yourself from giggling like a little schoolgirl, not wanting to show him the effect he had on you.

But he knew it all right, because that was exactly what happened to him.

“And by the way, you're not so bad either, Ruzek,” you looked him up and down and this simple sentence was enough for Adam to lose his head and feel his dick twitch in his pants.

Adam took a deep breath, looking at the ceiling for a moment as if trying to regain control of himself. “Y/N, Y/N…” he murmured your name like a prayer before returning his eyes to you. “What am I going to do with you?”.

“What are you talking about? What did I do?”, you asked in a dumb tone. He didn't answer you, but kept looking at you, studying every millimeter of your beautiful face, feeling his hands tingle from trying to repress the desire to touch you. The sexual tension between you two was so high it could fuel the entire city of Chicago, the air so tense anyone within miles would notice the way you looked at each other, how you were drawn to each other like magnets.

He set the cup of now-cold coffee in the sink before caressing your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You stopped breathing for a second as your subconscious kept hoping he'd kiss you until he took your breath away.

“Make me lose my goddamn mind.”

Oh God.

“I'm not doing anything,” you whispered, your eyes always fixed on his so lively and brilliant eyes. They were so bright, so full of life and joy that just looking at them was able to calm you when everything seemed to fall apart.

His eyes kept alternating between your eyes and lips. His mind raced as he tried to think of all the reasons why he shouldn't press his lips to yours, but right now he could only think of a thousand reasons why he should do it instead.

“We shouldn't be that close,” you muttered, your voice so low, not convinced by your own words. “I know, we shouldn't,” he whispered back but remaining in that position. His thumb caressed your cheeks softly, his touch so light and delicate that made you forget everything around you, “But I can't help it.”

A sudden noise immediately pulled you away from each other and you prayed with every fiber of your being it wasn't Voight.

“Finished playing lovebirds?” Kevin's amused voice broke that magical moment between you and Adam.

“Oh… Uhm… H-he was pulling an eyelash out of my eye,” you blurted out the first excuse that crossed your mind, ignoring Kevin's gaze. Adam was trying to suppress the smile that threatened to come across his lips as you stuttered embarrassedly. He had to resist the urge to pull you to him and hug you.

“Sure like you weren’t about to tear your clothes off,” Kevin laughed back.

“I… I have to go to the bathroom…” you stammered and then started walking away from the break room to finally be able to breathe.

“Not so fast honey, we have a new case, I came here to call you guys.”

Adam tried to suppress the annoyance that just hearing Kevin call you 'honey' gave him.

Fuck's sake get a grip.

How had he gotten to the point he even felt jealous of his friend calling you ‘honey’?

You and Adam had always had this kind of relationship, ever since you started working in the Intelligence. From the first moment there had been a feeling between you, a feeling you had few times in your life and that brought you closer to the point every occasion was good for you two to flirt and tease each other.

But over time, your relationship deepened and soon what was a simple flirting became something more, from both of you. Neither of you came forward with the fear of rejection from the other and that's how you ended up in this state of limbo, in which you both desired each other from afar, in which every time you found yourself close the tension skyrocketed.

You didn’t say anything, exited the break room at light speed while Adam obviously followed you with his gaze, watching you carefully. When you were out of sight of him, he glanced at Kevin who laughed at the sudden change of his facial expression. He had gone from a beaten and hopelessly in love puppy to a furious hyena.

“Thank you so much Kev,” he nudged him lightly.

“Hey! What did I do? I just came to call you, we happen to be at work in case you forgot. I know you are so madly in love with each other and bla bla bla but I want to remind you we are in the district, in our unit, with Voight.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I'm not in love and… Fuck’s sake just mind your business.”

Now that was a good lie, he was very much in love with you, and a lot too.

“So you don't mind if I ask her out do you?” Kevin asked with mock seriousness just to test his friend’s patience and from the way he looked at him as if he was ready to knock him down, he knew he had managed to do it.

“Say it one more time and I'll punch you in the fucking face,” Adam said and for some strange reason Kevin figured he was serious.

He laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “I was just joking man, I would never do it.”

The case concerned a large exchange of drugs that would’ve been made that same day and which an Antonio’s informant had told him about. With the whole team, you opted for a silent flash attack, in order to surprise the traffickers in the middle of the exchange and arrest them all.

You were all armed with shotguns and bulletproof vests and once you arrived at the place where the drug trade was about to take place, you split up as agreed: Kim went with Antonio and Voight, Jay with Hailey and finally you with Adam.

“Hey, be careful okay?” Adam had whispered in your ear just before entering. You turned to him and smiled. “Be careful too,” you replied.

The building where the drug trade would take place was abandoned and from the dust and the amount of junk it had been in disuse for many years. It was the perfect place for a drug trade, it was spacious, disused, isolated, no one would ever suspect the illegal activities that took place there.

After the team split up, you and Adam headed into the back entrance of the massive building, stepping in silently and fingers close to the trigger ready to fire whenever necessary. The traffickers worked on kilos of drugs and judging by the quantity present, it must’ve been worth a lot of money.

Your heart was pounding, so hard you could almost hear it in your ears. It didn't matter how many missions like these you had done, how many drug exchange attempts you had thwarted, the anxiety in those moments of suspense would always be present.

That was the perfect time to intervene, those men never expected the police to be there. You waited for Voight's signal from the headset transceiver connected to your ear, at which point you all exclaimed.

“Chicago PD! Everyone down and hands up!”

At that point chaos ensued.

The men wasted no time and immediately started to shoot, beginning a firefight that forced all of you to hide. You and Adam hid behind a wrecked car, firing your rifles. The sound of gunfire echoed in that establishment, bullet shells flew here and there on the dirty and dusty floor, and those traffickers had no intention of giving up. You hated to admit it, but they were giving you a hard time.

After unloading a full loader, you sat down to protect yourself and put a new one into the rifle. Adam glanced at you with the corner of his eyes before returning his gaze in front of him and firing a few shots and then bending down to shelter from the shots.

“Holy shit,” he cursed and you couldn't help but agree with him. It was a horrible situation.

You peeked out with your head and shot a trafficker who was about to shoot in your direction at the same time, whose body fell lifeless to the ground.

As you were about to take cover at that very moment your gaze fell causally next to Adam and with horror you noticed a weapon aimed at him, a man ready to shoot him.

“Adam! Get down!” you screamed and instinct prevailed. Before he could even figure out what was happening, you lunged at him, pushing him to the ground and shooting the man at the same time but not before he too fired a few shots as he fell to the ground.

Time stopped for an instant and everything went in slow motion. You didn't immediately understand what happened only when a throbbing pain went through your abdomen. You didn't immediately realize you'd been hit by a bullet.

Adam lifted himself off the ground only then realizing you were lying on the floor.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed in horror feeling his heart nearly stop in his chest. He knelt down next to you. “It's okay, it's okay baby, you’re gonna be okay.”

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the criminal you shoot get up and run away.

“Fuck,” you hissed in pain “Adam he is running away…”

“Like hell I'm leaving you alone,” he urged, pulling off your bulletproof vest and heaving a sigh of relief when he saw the bullet had been stopped by the vest. You pushed his hand away, trying to breathe deeply. “Adam go! I am fine just go!” you exclaimed aloud, making your pain increase.

Adam found himself conflicted, for the first time in his life unable to decide what to do. He didn't want to leave you alone, not when you were suffering like that and unable to defend yourself, but at the same time he wanted to take that son of a bitch, not because he was a criminal, but for daring to hurt you.

“Baby, it’s okay, I'm fine I promise,” you continued, patting his hand encouragingly noting his hesitation. “Go.”

Adam reluctantly got up and started chasing after the criminal – who wounded, didn't run very far – not before alerting your teammates you had been hit and were on the ground unprotected while he was doing the chase.

“Chicago PD! Stop!” yelled Adam as he ran after the man. He tried to increase his pace but the bullet that had hit him had weakened him a lot since, unlike you, there was no bulletproof vest to protect him.

It wasn't long before Adam caught up with the criminal. He threw himself on him causing him to crash to the ground and before he could even defend himself, Adam had punched him in the face.

Then another one.

And one more time.

He was blinded by rage, the image of you lying on the ground in pain as you struggled to breathe etched perfectly into his memory with every punch he landed.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled in his face as another punch collided with the smuggler's face.

“Adam! Stop for fuck's sake or you'll kill him!” Jay exclaimed, running towards him and pushing Adam away from the man lying on the ground almost unconscious.

“Let me go!” Adam tried to escape from Jay's grip as he pushed him away from the man before breaking free and running to you, showing no remorse for beating the criminal.

He found you in the same spot, this time leaning against the car while Hailey was next to you. During the firefight almost all of the traffickers were killed, while some were handcuffed and arrested.

“It's okay, help is on the way,” she tried to reassure you even though the only person you needed was Adam. “Take small breaths, everything will be fine.”

“Y/N! Hey, hey, I'm here,” you breathed a sigh of relief if it wasn't so painful. She immediately knelt beside you, cupping her face in her hands, her heart in a vise as she saw you in so much pain.

“You'll be fine okay? Everything will be fine. How are you feeling?”.

“It hurts like hell,” you cursed. Damn it, you almost forgot how much it hurt a bullet hit.

Hailey at that moment said she’d walk away to help the others, leaving you and Adam alone.

“I know, I know it hurts, baby I'm so sorry” he stroked your face “Can I take a look?”.

You nodded and, trying to be as delicate as possible, he lifted your shirt, almost blanching when he saw the extent of the damage and the huge bruise caused by the bullet.

“It's that bad huh?”.

Adam had to swallow the lump in his throat, the guilt wearing him down because he knew that bullet was meant for him. God, he would’ve taken ten bullets rather than see you suffer even one second of your life. He hated seeing you like that, he hated not protecting you, he hated you took that bullet instead of him.

“I'm so sorry sweetheart…”

“Is this a way of saying 'thank you for saving my life'?” you tried to joke but the serious and destroyed expression on Adam's face suggested he wasn't in mood for jokes.

“It was meant for me, it should’ve been me,” he sighed and you took his hand with yours, stroking the back of it.

“It’s not your fault, I’d do it again thousand times.”

At that moment the paramedics arrived and after many oppositions you had yourself examined, under the inquiring gaze of Adam who never left your side.

Once you arrived at Med's it was Will who visited you. “How much does it hurt from one to ten?”.

“Four,” you answered but flinced when he gently patted your abdomen.

“Y/N.” he admonished you.

“Fine, shit,” you hissed in pain “Eleven.”

“Why are you cops so stubborn? I swear, you're all the same, always thinking you're superheroes.”

“I just want to go home Will, please give me a couple of painkillers and let me go,” you begged.

You began to feel dizzy and a wave of nausea washed over you as the pain gradually became more and more intense and unbearable.

“You're not going anywhere miss,” Will stated “Judging by the abdominal distension I'd say there's internal bleeding but I'll do an ultrasound just to make sure.”

“Will...” you muttered feeling the need to vomit “I have to... I have to throw-...” you couldn't finish the sentence you lifted up slightly and started throwing up, but the nurse present was quick enough to take a basin nearby and place it in front of you.

“It's definitely internal bleeding,” Will said after doing the abdominal ultrasound.

Your vision started to get blurry and your heart pounding so fast, you felt like it was about to stop.

“I can't... I can't breathe...”

Adam – who meanwhile was in the waiting room – had almost dug a trail in the floor due to his continuous back and forth, feeling anxious like never before.

He hated waiting, having to sit there with folded hands and not being able to do anything to help you while you were in the operating room and Rhodes was operating on you to contain the internal bleeding. The guilt was wearing him down even though rationally he knew it wasn't his fault.

He felt guilty because he had always promised himself he’d protect you from everything and everyone, he’d kill rather than risk someone hurting you, he felt guilty because he was the one who was supposed to be on the operating table.

The moment you threw yourself at him to protect him kept playing in his mind over and over again, like a videotape playing over and over again. Why had you risked your life like that to protect him?

He couldn't blame you, God he would’ve done the exact same thing, but he couldn't help but be mad at you for doing such a stupid thing. Why did you do it?

-

The surgery lasted about an hour and when you woke up the first thing – or rather person – your eyes rested on was Adam, whose arm was around your waist, his head resting on your belly as he embraced you, his eyes closed.

He wasn't really sleeping, in fact as he felt your fingers in his hair, he jerked up, his eyes widening when he saw you were finally awake.

“Y/N, baby, oh my god thank god you're awake,” he gushed, leaning down and hugging you. “I missed you so much, thank God you're okay.”

You smiled, returning that hug with all the strength you had in your body. “I missed you too.”

“How are you? Are you okay now? Does it hurt?” he peppered you with questions once you broke away from the hug. He sat back on the chair again, but entwined his fingers with yours, never letting go. Your heart almost exploded as he brought your hand to his lips leaving a small kiss on the back.

“I feel a little numb but overall I'm fine,” you replied. “Were you always here?”.

“Of course, I’d never leave you alone baby.”

It must’ve been the stun caused by the surgery but only then you noticed the scratches and small lesions on Adam's knuckles.

“My god Adam, what happened to your hands?”.

“Oh baby you realized it a little too late,” Adam chuckled.

“Adam.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I may have landed a few punches.”

“Adam!” you exclaimed raising your voice, a painful expression appeared on your face.

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” he spoke concerned “Y/N…” he sighed, “That son of a bitch hurt you, I… I completely lost control.

“Adam, you could get yourself into serious trouble.”

“Honestly? I don't give a fuck. If anything happened to you he wouldn't have to worry about just some punches.”

“Always acting like a macho huh?” You tried not to smile even though his protective side was one of the things you loved most about him.

“Don't even joke Y/N. When it comes to you I lose my mind,” he softly spoke “When I saw you lying on the ground, I feared for a second I lost you and I don’t want to feel like that ever again.”

You let go of his hand only to rest it on his cheek, gently stroking his cheeks and beard. “If something happened to you I would never have forgiven myself. Really Adam… When I saw that guy pointing the gun at you… I didn't understand anything anymore, I didn't want something to happen to you.”

“What you did is very stupid,” he scolded, his eyes watering as he leaned against your touch and you chuckled.

“You would’ve done the same.”

“Absolutely”

“So why shouldn't I?”.

“Because I need you Y/N, I can't think of being without you.”

This little confession cut the breath out of your lungs and the way he looked at you, God, it was so intense you could hardly maintain eye contact but something had bewitched you. There were so many things you wanted to tell him though, so many things you wanted to confess but your brain had shut down and not a single coherent, rational thought crossed your mind.

“Baby…” Adam whispered and that simple word sent a flock of butterflies into your stomach. “I can’t take this anymore…”

“W-what?”.

“Now I’m looking at you and… And you're so fucking beautiful even though you're on a goddamn bed and wearing a hospital gown and you… You’re looking at me like that… You make me lose my mind,” he blathered, not even knowing if whether or not what he was saying made sense but god he couldn't even think straight anymore, he felt so out of control and that was the effect you had on him. It didn't matter how or why, but you were capable of sending every single neuron of his brain into a tailspin, you were capable of giving him tachycardia when you even just looked at him, you were capable of making him forget the whole world.

“How am I looking at you?” you whispered.

“And when you play dumb like that, like you don't even know the effect you have on me, how you drive me crazy,” he went on “How you made me fall so madly in love with you.”

You widened your eyes and your mouth in shock, hardly believing what you had just heard.

You were speechless.

Completely speechless, and it was a rather rare occurrence.

You had dreamed of that moment for so long, you almost couldn't believe it. For a moment you even thought you were still under the influence of anesthesia and everything was happening was just a figment of your imagination.

“I'm sorry to say it like that, I know it must’ve been unexpected for you but after what happened today… I didn't want to waste any more time, life is so short and… Fuck… I know I probably screwed it all…-” he began talking again noticing your silence but you stopped him by placing your index finger on his lips.

“Kiss Me.”

Adam nearly had a heart attack, for a moment fearing he needed a hospital bed. Did he hear it right? Or was it just a hallucination?

You were about to speak again when he leaned towards you, pressing his lips against yours in a longed-for and much-desired kiss.

His hands cupped your face as he completely took your breath away. His lips were warm and soft against yours, just as you had imagined so many times. Your fingers were in his hair and it didn't take long because everything else disappeared, making you forget you were in a hospital room.

You bit his lip and he almost moaned at that sensation, this gesture further increasing the visceral need and desire he felt for you.

“Fuck don't do that again,” he murmured against your lips, finding it hard to control and stop himself. You didn't answer instead you kissed him again. You were so bewitched by Adam and as his scent flooded your nostrils, a thousand butterflies danced in your stomach.

All the pain you felt went in the background, only he existed at that moment, only his lips that continued to devour you in an intense kiss. Your head was spinning, your heart was pounding, your hands tingling, shivers ran down your spine.

“Stop, stop, Jesus Christ, we have to stop or I won’t control myself,” he whispered, pulling away from the kiss for a moment as both of your chests rose and fell as you caught your breath. “You drive me so damn crazy baby, I don't know what to do with you.”

Your eyes were fixed on his even if they alternated on his little swollen lips, red from the kiss. You were overwhelmed by the feeling you had for that man and you knew in that precise moment that a new chapter in your life had just opened, a chapter you couldn't wait to live. Your nose continued to slightly touch his, your lips brushing his, your thumbs stroking his cheeks.

“I'm so madly in love with you too Adam Ruzek,” were the first words you said after the kiss and just for the way he looked at you, you’d take hundred of those bullet and relieve the pain all over again, to see the expression of pure joy and the smile on his beautiful face.

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[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Halloween Hunting

*rubs face* so I intended on doing this with all four of my OCs and their respective LIs, and then the brainrot for this one hit EXTREMELY hard.

So happy Halloween, have some extremely suggestive predator/prey Xavier and Andromeda, who is NOT the MC but is a hunter. Context provided inside fic.

COOP and Andromeda are both my brainchildren, I just wanted an excuse for her to seem badass.

As usual, if you enjoyed this, please feel free to like or reblog! It tells me people like what I'm doing and encourages me to keep writing.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Her feet slammed down on the forest floor, lungs burning from exertion.

Looking around her, Andromeda kept an ear out for any signs of noise, her paint gun kept pointed down at her side.

Some team building exercise this was. She had an inkling that she was the last one standing of her squad, and now she hunted the most dangerous prey of all.

Xavier.

“Halloween is right around the corner. While the rest of Linkon will be taking their kids trick-or-treating, we'll all be working doubles.”

= Earlier =

“Alright, listen up!” Both UNICORNS and COOP stood to attention, glancing up at one of the top brass of the Hunter's Association.

Groans sounded around the room. Their superior continued.

“Come on, live a little. This is as much to help you all blow off some steam as it is a team-building exercise.” She paced across the stage, meeting as many eyes as she could. “In past years, UNICORNS participated with the rest of the squads in our annual Halloween paintball hunt. Every year, they've remained the title holder.

So this year, we’re doing things a little differently. We've enlisted the help of COOP, our auxiliary squad, in the hopes of giving UNICORNS a challenge.”

Andromeda glanced over at Jenna as the speaker continued.

The two squad leaders locked eyes. They both knew what was at risk here.

Two weeks paid time off for the squad leaders, and extra pay incentive for their team.

It was a challenge neither could afford to lose.

“Now remember,” the speaker said. “COOP works cooperatively with our military on the front lines, taking care of high-ranked Wanderers. Don't underestimate them.

When the sun fully sets, you'll gear up on opposite sides of the forest. Your objective is to have your squad have the most “kills”. Head or heart only. Anything else is a “miss”. There is no second chance with Wanderers.

You have until sunrise, and then we'll tally.”

A sharp elbow jabbed into Andromeda's side.

“Guess we'll have some fun this year, eh, Merlin?”

She glanced over at the smirking man, rolling her eyes. “Keep your head in the game, Falcon. You'll slip up if you get too overconfident.”

He pouted prettily, and she resisted the urge to slap him upside the back of his blonde head. Every day she reminded herself that he was her second because of his skills, not his personality.

There was a slight movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to glance at it.

Intensely blue eyes stared back at her, watching with a quiet steely focus.

A shiver ran down her spine.

The world around seemed to fade away, the people surrounding both of them blurring like hedges in the background.

That intrinsic tie.

The red string of fate.

Even now it tugged at her heart, trying to force her to move towards him, her feet aching to eat up the ground until she could fly into his arms.

Defiantly, she glanced away.

It didn't matter.

Xavier's gaze still burned into her back, and she knew it.

= Now =

There hadn't been any signals from her squad in over an hour.

Things had moved fast at first, a lot of targets leading to swift trimming down in the ranks.

It was clear UNICORNS wasn't used to opponents on the same playing field.

Still, Andromeda cursed her team for being overconfident. It was an oversight on her part, and something she would have to train out of them in the near future.

The barest flicker caught her attention, and she dove for cover. A blue dot slammed into the tree above her head.

Silently, she swore.

Somewhere out in the darkness, Xavier lay in wait. She felt like both predator and prey, a hunter trying to take out a big cat before he took her out instead.

It made her heart pound.

There was the flutter of something else too, a heat coiling inside her and filling her with a hot excitement, but she quickly pushed it down.

There was no time to think about that.

Only time to move.

She darted out into the night, trying to gain the upper hand. Behind her, she could hear a branch snap, and she swerved to the left. Another blue dot took a leaf off a tree branch.

Andromeda kicked off a log, grabbing a low-hanging branch and circling around it, wincing as the bark cut into her palms.

She flipped and landed behind him, her gun clattering to the ground.

Xavier twisted.

In the bright moonlight, his hair shone silver, glimmering like stars. It was mesmerizing in its own way, giving him an ethereal glow as he aimed his gun towards her.

At that moment, she forgot the game. Instinct kicked in, and she lunged for him, her shoulder slamming into his gut.

He dropped the gun as they fell to the ground, hooking his leg around hers to flip their position.

With one hand, Xavier pinned her wrists above her head. He reached for his weapon.

Despite her struggles, she couldn't dismount him. It drew up hot irritation that sang violence in her blood, rage mixing with something else entirely.

Xavier pointed the gun at her, the moonlight caressing his hair and turning it into a halo.

“Yield,” he said breathlessly. His eyes burned bright, his muscular thighs tightening around her legs every time she tried to kick out.

God, he was so infuriatingly beautiful.

She couldn't let him win.

“Never,” she spat out, planting her feet on the ground and bucking up with her hips.

Startled, he fell forward, letting go of her wrists to catch himself before his face could slam into hers.

Andromeda smacked the gun out of his other hand, sending it flying. A shot sounded off in the silent night, echoing as she grabbed the collar of his uniform.

For a brief moment, they were at a stalemate. Their breaths mingled in the crisp night air, heat radiating off their forms, pressed together.

Then, Xavier smiled softly. “Then I'll yield,” he whispered. His hands moved to hoist himself off of her, preparing to roll away.

A cheap victory.

Something in Andromeda snapped.

“The fuck you are,” she snarled, gripping his collar tighter. Xavier looked at her, startled, as she yanked him forward.

“Starligh-” Her lips swallowed the nickname, stealing the breath from his lungs in a fierce kiss.

Instantly, he responded.

Xavier slid a hand into her hair, his fingers tangling with the gossamer strands as he cupped the back of her head, sealing their mouths together.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Andromeda was yelling at herself for giving in. Right now, however, all that mattered was the slick heat of his lips. Each press urgent in its need.

She slid her legs out from between his, wrapping them around his waist instead.

Instinctually, he rolled his hips down, and they groaned in unison at the sensation.

“W-wait,” Xavier said huskily, still trading kisses with her. “Starlight-”

She nipped his lip sharply, and his hand spasmed in her hair.

He tried to pull away. “Starlight, please.” Her lips moved down to bite at his pulse, and Xavier sharply gasped.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head once more.

“Andromeda.”

Everything snapped back into focus. The molten heat of his gaze, the quickly darkening mark on his neck, the bright flush of his cheeks and lips.

Andromeda made a sound of mortification. “I am so…”

Xavier hushed her. “If you're about to apologize for something I don't regret, please don't. It's just almost sunrise.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. “I'd rather be the only one who sees you like this.”

The motion made her shiver, pressing her hips up into his.

The barest sliver of blue remained in those eyes, nearly black with desire. “Though if you keep doing that, I can't be responsible for what happens next.”

Andromeda bit her lip, his predatory gaze following the motion. “Don't make promises you can't keep.”

Xavier paused, stilling above her.

Then, quietly, he chuckled, shaking his head. “Some things never change.”

Before she could ask what that meant, he dove back in, kissing her senseless. The air around them shifted, going from crisp and cold to warm, her back hitting a strangely plush surface.

His bed.

But how did they…?

Xavier unbuttoned his collar, pinning her with that burning gaze.

“Don't say I didn't warn you,” he murmured teasingly.

Andromeda swallowed hard, reaching up for him as their clothes fell to the floor.

Neither noticed the blue paint dot on his uniform, square over his heart.

Bonus:

"If they don't find the two that wandered off, who do you think will be decided the winner?"

"I don't know. Depends on if they count Jenna unloading her entire clip into that Falcon guy."

[themerc]

more headcanons

Because I should be editing a chapter and I'm not feeling like it. And because I promised a new headcanon for each headcanon reply/reblog my last one sparked. I think I got two so here goes:

Bond's favourite things about Q

Competence. And being aware of it without succumbing to overconfident arrogance. Bond is endlessly fascinated by Q's witty banter and seemingly flippant quips, but recognises them as the more lighthearted front Q puts up not to appear as deadly serious as his job really makes him. Q enjoys his work, especially seeing his gadgets in action - but he is also intimately familiar with the flipside of it. Q cares deeply, gives 110% of himself whenever the situation calls for it, and knows he can do much -- but he's not omnipotent. It lends Q's humor and the little digs he takes at him and other agents a peculiar, deeper, darker undercurrent. It draws Bond in for the challenge like a moth to a flame.

Reliability. Q has been the one unwavering supporter and the constant he returns to since they came to know each other. Having that means more to Bond than he's willing to admit even to himself.

Intelligence. It's probably just another expression of his freely admitted competence kink, but such brilliant intelligence is just. Damn sexy. Bond doesn't consider himself slow by any standards, but he can't follow Q's quick thinking half of the time. He takes it as a challenge as well -- one that he very much enjoys.

Q's voice. This one probably should be higher up on his list, because that voice echoing inside his skull hours after his first mission with Q in his ear was the thing that first made him realise - oh.

The eyes. Aren't they always, though, for everyone? But no - not like Q's. Bond is captivated by the beauty and intensity and the changing sea-shade colours, because he likes beautiful people. And Q, especially stripped of all his work-enforced layers -- what he wears, how he speaks, the way he carries himself -- is achingly beautiful. He knows he's privileged to witness it sometimes. Those eyes, they bring him to life when Q looks at him like that. Sometimes, they are the knives that cut through his very soul. So expressive that staring into the bottomless pit of darkness that Q also carries inside of himself hurts worse than any physical wound he's suffered. It was Q's eyes after a mission that cost them the life of a rookie agent that told Bond that they are much more alike than he'd assumed in the beginning. He still isn't quite sure if he likes that idea or not.

Physicality. For his rather slight build, Q's physical presence can be very ... convincing. Bond's seen him handle weapons. Had felt it, up close and personal, when Q stepped right into his personal space and grabbed the semiautomatic rifle out of his curious hands, before proceeding to sit him in a chair and shoot him in the wrist with the Smart Blood gun. And many times since. Q's hands are always firm and soothing, delicate without a trace of weakness. He's come to crave the touch.

Kindness. Bond can admit that at least half of his attraction to any person ever has always been physical. But kindness isn't something he's ever experienced much, at least not since his mother died. Q is so very kind, despite all appearances to the contrary at times. He's considerate and mindful of others' needs when he's not completely immersed in some dire situation requiring that 110% of him. On one cold and miserable night in early December, he'd returned to London once more, and found himself at Q's doorstep thinking of suitable apologies. Q just let him inside, took his sodden overcoat and no questions asked, wrapped him in a warm hug. He'd wanted it to last forever. He wouldn't dare call it unconditional love - not in that moment at least - but it was a gift bestowed on someone very much undeserving.

There was going to be Q's list on Bond as well, but... maybe another time after I've actually slept.

[howhow326]

Funk Up The Night

Miraculous Ladybug salt fic (Felix salt, Lila salt, Gabriel salt, Nino salt, original character protagonist, Alya sugar, tw: racism, torture, sexism, ableism, teens assaulting other teens, suicide mention, p*dophilia). (This fic is a sequal to another fic I made before that got hidden because it's a reblog and my third fanfic)

Narrator PoV

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In the dark of night at a secret government base, Felix Fathom is using the powers of the stolen peacock miraculous to infiltrate the facility. The boy snaps all of the guards into his Red Moon, a fate that he has no intention of freeing them from. However, Felix can't shake the idea that someone is watching him...

After a few minutes, Felix finds his goal: a safe full of hoards of wealth and confidential information kept secret by his late father. As Felix opens the safe he feels a strong gust of wind move past him, but he pays it no mind. After all, isn't Felix invincible?

Felix takes a few steps into the safe before he senses someone watching him again. This time, Felix catches his stalker standing behind him. From far away, Felix thought the mysterious person was some type of dirty peasant: he was wearing a baggy black shirt, a tattered navy cravat that layed untucked, and a black newsboy cap that covered his coily black hair. But closer inspection made Felix doubt that assumption: the boy in front of him also had black, knee-length boots that covered his black pants and elbow blue gloves. Felix tried to focus on his face, but it looked like he painted himself with grey make-up. The mystery boy also had a trail of floor length blue feathers popping out of the sections of his arms that weren't covered by his gloves. Before Felix could insult his fashion choices, the stalker finnaly spoke:

"Fancy bumping into you here." the boy said while placing his hands on his hips. "Out to find some answers about your father, are we?"

His golden eyes reminded Felix of someone he met in France, but he couldn't place it.

"You have quite the familiar face and I assume you are using the same powers, but you will have to forgive me; do we know each other?" Felix demanded.

"Same powers? Don't make me laugh! Your espionage skills back there looked a bit rusty."

Felix snickered at the peasant's insult. "The only rust on me is from the lack of any real challenge. Perhaps you are up to the task?"

"You already disappointed me." The boy said as he held up Felix's ring between his fingers. Horror dawned on Felix's face as he realized that his ring was stolen. Then he pounced on the assailant.

"Stop." With one word, Felix fell to the ground one foot within the thief. "Quite the peculiar object, this ring. According to my sources, all I need to do is snap my fingers and you would vanish without a-" "What do you want?" Felix asked.

"I love it when people get straight to the point." The mystery boy joked. "What is Hawkmoth's secret identity?" "Gabriel Agreste." "Hmm, and here I was thinking it wouldn't be so obvious."

The mystery boy began pacing around in a circle thinking to himself. "Why haven't you told anyone else?" "I was going to deal with him myself." "Of course. So that's why you've been hiding in Britain for the past month?" "I couldn't let Ladybug take my miraculous!" "The miraculous you got making a deal with Hawkmoth in the first place?"

The mystery boy finished his thinking and turned to face Felix. "Well, let's make a deal since you love making those. I'll give you your ring back in exchange for the peacock miraculous." "NO!" "You are in no position to refuse me." The boy thief used Felix's ring to make him feel intense pain, causing the blond to whimper in agony. "Make no mistake, I won't hesitate to end your existence after you helped the terrorist that tried to cause WW 3. My deal is the only scenario where you walk away alive." "Fine!" Felix spat.

"Fantastic!" The mystery boy took off Felix miraculous and used it to transform himself. He then tossed Felix his ring, giving him back his freedom. "And before I forget... Red Moon, I release you from existence!" "NOOO!" Felix screamed. But before he could stop him, the boy snapped his fingers, killing Felix's 'sister'. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT!" "You used your powers to create a living weapon. You shouldn't had created her." Felix once again tried to jump the murderer, but he knocked the blonde out with a back hand slap.

Having gotten what he came for, the mysterious boy left Felix in the facility where he would no doubt be arrested by the guards... or worse.

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Timothy PoV

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Timothy Cesaire was having an amazing day. It wasn't often that he didn't have to fake being in a good mood, so he made sure to enjoy it as long as it lasted.

Last week, The Raptor annihilated Techno-Pirate during combat. The villain had an uncomfortable amount of civilian hostages during the long battle, so Timothy weighed his outcomes and decided his solution was for the best. The boy thought that making the 'ultimate choice' for the first time would be bad for his mental health, but it ended up doing the opposite; Timothy felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he realized New York was finnaly free of a blight like Mike Rochip.

Of course, not everyone agreed with his actions. While the hostages defended the Raptor and thanked him for saving their lives, the United Heroez used the incident as evidence that the Raptor had to be taken down. A part of Timothy agreed with them, after his fist time he wondered how many problems he could solve using his new 'solution'. But their criticisms didn't matter to him, Timothy was the one who saved innocent people's lives not the Heroez and their dumb sidekicks. Perish the idea that the aggressors life is equal to their victim, Timothy thought.

But all of that is in the past right now. The Raptor is on hiatus, and Timothy Cesaire is in France to visit his favorite cousin Alya. Of course, Timothy is really here to get rid of Hawkmoth before he makes the earth explode on accident, but that dosen't mean he can't have fun!

As Timothy opened the door to his temporary classroom, he was overwhelmed by a massive sense of déjà vu.

Alya, Marinette, and Adrien were all sitting in the back corner of the class. A boy, Kim I think, threw a paper ball at Marinette's head. The raven haired girl's expression suggested that was normal. When Timothy looked to his left, he expected to see the same orange haired witch that he got fired last time. He expected that he was in a nightmare or some horrible time loop.

Instead, Ms. Mendeleiev, the teacher that Timothy planted into this class, yelled "No throwing things in the classroom, dog boy!!!" What the heck just happened??? "My last names not that kind of Chien!" The jock yelled at the teacher. "And now you're talking back to your teacher? Go to the principles office, now!" "Excuse me-"

The familiar voice filled Timothy's heart full of dread. There's no way that b*tch came back here, Timothy thought to himself. Low and behold, that b*tch was sitting right there. The last time Timothy was in France, he broke Lila's reputation, relationships, and her ankle as revenge for bullying Alya. She was supposed to be in jail for working with Hawkmoth. And yet, there she was. Her hair style was different, and her eye color changed, but it was the same girl. Sitting in the front row. A boy in a trashy outfit, Nino?, was currently throwing himself all over Lila, but Timothy could care less.

"-Kim was only trying to give Marinette his notes for class." Lila lied. Timothy expected the teacher to call her out, but- "You can't keep covering for trouble makers, Iris, but I'll let it off the hook just this once." Ms Mendeleiev stated. WHAT THE WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE??? No matter how Timothy tried to rationalize the situation, nothing in front of him made any coherent sense.

After the disastrous class, Marinette filled Timothy in on the situation. At first, everything seemed to go back to normal after Lila was exposed and Ms. Bustier let go. Then Iris Verde showed up. The new girl charmed every member of the class, including the teacher, into thinking she was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Then, just like Lila before her, Iris accussed Alya/Marinette/Adrien of bullying her. The akuma class just got done giving apologies to the three of them for helping Lila, but they all fell back into their old roles after Iris restarted the whole song and dance. Iris even manipulated Nino to break up with Alya and to become her boyfriend days after Alya and Nino got back togather.

"And that's not even the worst part," Marinette exclaimed over lunch, "I caught Iris kissing Kim, Ivan, and Nathaniel outside of school! She's a liar AND a cheater!" The raven haired girl was discussing ways to expose the new Lila, which caused Adrien to sigh. "Marinette, we showed them a recording of Iris threatening us last week and it didn't work. Nothing's working!" The blonde exclaimed.

Timothy shifted at the sound of Adrien's voice. While he hates to admit his opinion was biased, Timothy didn't like Adrien when he first met him. He didn't like that Adrien associated himself with Lila, even though he was forced to by the Italian's manipulations. Timothy always sought to defend the weak, a category that definitely included Adrien, but he was always close to being strong. The friend of an rich idiot, the former boyfriend of Liar Rossi, the cousin of the boy who helped Hawkmoth, and apparently the son of Hawkmoth... but Adrien was different from them. After realizing that taking the high road dosen't work, Adrien began to proactively defend Marinette and Alya. Sure, it had consequences. Adrien became a social outcast along with the two girls, but if being popular meant hurting two of his closest friends, then he would make the same choice every time. If only every rich kid could be that altruistic.

"Your being quiet, Alya." Timothy changed the conversation. "Oh, I'm sorry I-" before Alya could finish her thought, a voice so loud it sounded like screaming shouted into everyone's ears. "HEY ADRIAN DUDE!!! LET'S HANG OUT AND DITCH THESE LOSERS!!!" Nino shouted. "Agh, Nino I already told you that I can't be your friend if you keep being mean to Marinette and Alya. Also, please keep it down." Adrien politely asked Nino. The loud boy looked hurt by Adrien's words, but then his expression changed to one of rage. "Tch, well I don't want to be your friend as long as you keep hanging out with that ho." Nino direct his insult at Alya. Timothy summoned every ounce of his willpower to restrain himself, who the hell does he think he is???

"Nino, we already told you that Alya never cheated on you!" Marinette said in her friends defense. "LIARS!!!" Nino shouted. After a huff, he left the group to go hang out with Iris and her zealots.

When Timothy and Alya made it to her parent's house, Timothy pulled Alya aside for a talk. "Alya, what the heck! Why didn't you tell me that all of these people were bullying you again!!! I could have-", "Could have what? Break people's ankles!" Sh*t. "Uhh, Alya what are you talking about haha?" "Don't play dumb with me, I already know your secret-" Timothy was dreading when this day would come, when someone close to him would discover his secret identity. While The Raptor has the power to move faster than the eye can see, he dosen't have the power to erase memories... Unless, I give Alya a concussion? But doing that could hurt her really badly, Timothy thought. He felt a cold sweat trickle down his back... I have to do what I must.

"-you are in contact with The Raptor!" Alya wrongly concluded. Timothy breathed a sigh of relief and told Alya what she wanted to hear, "You got me... I'm sorry Alya, but I just couldn't stand to see you hurting like that. That's when The Raptor made an offer to help me in exchange for information from the science lab I have an internship at." Timothy wanted to eat his heart out for lying and manipulating Alya. It's for the greater good, Timothy thought to himself... but he knew that his actions barely made him different from horrible people like Lila.

The rest of their conversation became a blur before they both went to off to bed. Timothy still felt guilty that he could even dare think about hurting his favorite cousin in the whole world. Even back in Martinique, Alya was still the nicest, bravest, greatest person he knew. Meanwhile, I'm... Timothy stopped that train of thought. Right now, he isn't important. What's important is helping Alya and her friends.

The day after tomorrow, Timothy managed to convince Alya and her friend's parents to get the principal to switch their homeroom classes. Alya hated the idea, but her parents and Nora refused to let her go back to the class she was being bullied in.

After Alya was safe, Timothy began to work his magic on the class. Kim, Ivan, and Nathaniel all got exposed as cheaters to their significant others, which tanked Iris' reputation. Then, Timothy convinced Rose and Juleka, the two least evil girls in class, of how evil Iris was. Those two especially felt bad that they isolated Mari and Alya twice, and decided they would switch schools to make it up for betraying their friends trust. When those two went, Mylene and Max followed them. Timothy then convinced Chloe and Sabrina that Iris was a threat, which prompted them to begin bullying Iris and Nino. In one week, Iris power had faded just like Lila had. Now there was only a few things left to do...

Nino received a text from a secret admirer that wanted to meet up. Knowing that his girl was always having flings, he decided to try it out for himself. The location on the text led him to an allyway where a boy stood. "Huh? You're a dude, not a girl!!!" "I can't believe you're this stupid." "Wait, you're that filthy cheaters cousin! What do you want!!!" "This."

Before Nino could react, Timothy sprinted up to him and kicked him in the gut. As Nino layed on the ground in pain, Timothy stomped on every part of his body until he became black and blue. "Believe it or not, this is nothing personal." Timothy lied. "I just needed you out of the way so I could get to Lila." Nino tried to speak, but it came out as grunts because Timothy had stomped on his throat. "Oh, and by the way... this is for Alya!" Timothy said as he kicked Nino hard on his forehead on last time. The loud boy fell unconscious, but not dead.

And now, the real fun begins...

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Lila? PoV

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Angela Diavola was surely having the worst week of her life! First, the black kid from America came back to bother her right after she worked so hard to get back into Ms Bustier's classroom. Did he even know how much work she put in to fix the problems he caused??? "Lila Rossi" was in jail, so Angela had to discard that identity along with that girl's mother. Luckily, Angela tricked one of the crazies into thinking she was "Lila Rossi" and escaped from her prison. Now she was "Iris Verde". But when her "Iris" came back home, her dumb cr*p mom started asking too many questions. Angela had no choice but to get rid of her like all the moms that get too curious. So far a missing persons report hasn't been filed yet, but eventually "Iris Verde" will have to take the fall for the murder after disappearing. Ugh, I'm too stressed to plan! Nino was supposed to go out with me an hour ago but he missed our appointment! Right when Angela was getting ready to leave her ultra secret hideout, the lights went out. "I told you that if you tried to bully anyone in your class again I would come back!!!" an invisible voice spoke, but Angela knew it well. The Italian woman ran to the drawer where she kept her emergency handgun. This time, that dumb islander won't walk away from me! As soon as Angela pulled the gun out the drawer, the lights flicked on and The Raptor appeared behind her. Eat lead, Angela screamed at the him. She fired all of her shots at him, but he dodged each one. Angela then threw her handgun at him, but he caught it. "Where did you even get a gun from?" Before Angela could run away, The Raptor threw her handgun at her head, knocking her onto the floor. Im not going to let him ruin me again, Angela frantically thought. She reached into her back pocket to grab her emergency knife, already coming up with a devious plan. "Ohh, what ever will I do with you..." "Wait! I confess, I'm not 15. Im a 33 year old from foster care with a hormon disorder and I just pretended to be younger to feel safe!!! I promise I won't do it again!" Ha, bird brain dosen't even know that when he drops his guard, I'll stab him in the throat! Angela thought. The Raptor didn't drop his guard. "... It all makes sense now. This whole time, you were an adult manipulating teenagers... YOU WERE DATING TEENAGERS!!!" Angela only then realized that the superhero didn't figure out her secret until she told the truth just now. "Oh, uh, I was just lying!"

The Raptor lunged at the woman. She took out her knife to stab him, but he grabbed it from her and tossed it aside. He then knocked her out. The Raptor considered ending her miserable existence, freeing the world from her blight... but he decided there was a better way.

He tied her up and called the police. When Angela Diavola came to, she was in a max security cell for serial killers like herself. During the investigation, it was discovered that Angela had "disappeared" at least seven different woman who adopted her from the foster care system. Additionally, she left a long string of bullying and, in the worst cases, students taking their own lives from the schools she attended.

Ladybug wanted to feel happy that she was finnaly gone, but knowing the evil depths "Lila" sunk to shook her to her core. "M'Lady, there's a note here." Chat Noir's words brought Ladybug back to reality. As she read the note, she felt a chill go down her spine. Lila's exposure wasn't a happy coincidence.

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Ladybug PoV

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"I stole the Peacock miraculous from Felix. Come to the Agreste Mansion if you want it back." Was all that was written on the note. Normally, she would think it's a trap, but her instincts were telling her to follow it's order. Whatever is happening now, is The Raptor's doing.

Ladybug, followed by Chat Noir, made it to the Agreste Mansion. The front door being open made Chat Noir uneasy. Inside, there was a trail of black paint that lead into Gabriel's work room. "Ok, this is clearly a tra-" before Ladybug could finish her thought, Chat Noir made a bee line for the room. Normally, Ladybug would yell at him for being so boneheaded, but something was telling her that Chat was being dead serious right now. "What?" was the only word needed to make Ladybug's skin crawl. Inside the work room was a secret elevator in front of a painting. What Ladybug and Chat Noir discovered at the bottom of that elevator would change their lives forever.

"I see you lot are unfashionably late." The Raptor announced to the duo while facing Hawkmoth. Hawkmoth?! Hawkmoth's here?! Why is Hawkmoth down here?! This has to be some kind of trap or- "Mom?" Chat Noir called out while looking at a casket behind Hawkmoth. "... Adrien?!" Ladybug hid her gasping mouth with her hands. It's happening again. "no." "Adrien, I am your father! Give me Ladybug and your miraculous so I can wish your mother back to life!" "NO!" Hawkmoth then threw out an akuma at Chat Noir. Ladybug wanted to intercept it, but her body refused to move. He's going to turn into Chat Blanc! The world is doomed again and it's all my fault...

At the last second, a hand reached out and crushed the akuma. "Ladybug, now!" The Raptor cried. Without thinking, Ladybug threw out her yo-yo at Hawkmoth's chest, cracking his miraculous. "Nooo-" Hawkmoth collapsed onto the floor coughing. The superheroin ran to the villain and took off his miraculous, which reverted him back to Gabriel Agreste. "Father, how could you do this!" Chat Noir screamed at him. "You ungrateful brat, I could have saved your mother! Saved our family!" Chat Noir slowly walked towards his father, his eyes full of hatred. "Mother's death didn't break our family... you did! You were the one who shut me out! The one that choose not to eat dinner with me anymore! You're the ungrateful one! You don't deserve this house! You don't deserve mother, or me, or Nathile, or anything... cataclysm." "Chat Noir no! Doing that will just make you as bad as he is." Before Ladybug could stop her partner, The Raptor held her back. "It's his choice."

Adrien held his father for the last time.

[stemroses]

Lol

Oh goodness I’m dead. Wtf am I talking about.

Reblog and put in the tags what happens when you type in “never" "gonna" "give" "you" and "up"

[navybrat817]

He may be bad but you know he has a soft spot for you

He absolutely does! And if bad, why so sexy?! Here's a little something for you.

Soft Spot

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Female Reader Word Count: Over 900 Warnings: Brief sexual content, possessive behavior, slight stalking, brief porn with some feels (it’s me), Nick Fowler (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: You all know this man owns me now. Thank you @dreamlessinparis for looking this over! Any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @its-just-may. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment if you feel inclined!

Nick Fowler is a very possessive man. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He craved power, but he also needed someone to exert that need for control over. Because it was easy for him to grow bitter in his line of work when he had to keep pretending that he had his other half. People around him didn’t realize how lucky they were to have that. They didn’t appreciate it.

Then, you showed up. His angel.

He saw you toward the end of one of his assignments. It was your laughter that caught his attention. It was inviting and carefree. His gut clenched when he looked your way, struck by your genuine smile. No one ever got to him so quickly. He normally didn’t let himself get distracted by his surroundings, especially when he had to play the part of a dutiful husband. But he was pretending.

And he knew he had to have you.

For the first time, Nick didn’t feel elated upon the completion of his assignment. It was a hollow victory because he didn’t get the real prize. He couldn’t figure out how you had such a hold on him when he hadn’t even spoken to you. Maybe, if he fucked you and got it out of his system, he could move on. He had to see you again.

No one questioned when he asked to get the surveillance footage. Seeing your face again on the screen sent a surge of need so intense he almost had to relieve himself at his desk. Your expressions taunted him, begging him to ruin you. Fucking you once wouldn’t be enough. You had awoken his possessive streak before he even touched you.

You’ll take everything I give you.

Tracking you down was simple. You lived alone, stayed out of trouble and stuck to your routine. He kept a distance and didn’t obsessively watch you. He had to maintain some discipline. And, thankfully, he didn’t have any boyfriends to dispose of. Not that it would’ve mattered if you had one. People disappeared every day.

Mine.

Casually bumping into you was even easier than tracking you down, putting the right amount of charm into his smile as he caught you from falling. Seeing you up close, it wasn’t just his possessive streak that you brought out. When you smiled, his emotions overwhelmed him. The sincerity in your eyes cut him to his core, so used to seeing lies staring back at him. He knew he was looking at his other half.

You’re mine.

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in,” you challenged the night of your first date when you got to the door.

He answered you with a kiss.

You had no idea what you unleashed in him once he had a taste. It was something primal and all consuming. He could command others through charm or fear depending on the role he had to play. But with you, he wanted you to bend to him to his will. He needed you to have trust in his control and give yourself over without hesitation.

I’m done pretending.

His hunger wasn’t satisfied as he ravished you. He wanted you to ache for his possession and crave him like a drug. And pleasing you still kept him in control. You felt good because he made you feel that way. He glued the pieces of you back together. You gave him a gift and didn’t even know it.

You were also his weakness.

“Nick?” you asked as you ran his hand along his chest. “Did I lose you?”

He placed his hand over yours, absentmindedly playing with your fingers. “No.”

“What are you thinking about?”

That I need to protect you. That I’ll burn the fucking world to the ground if anyone else ever touches you. “That I’m not a good man.”

You turned on your side more to get a better look at him. “Why do you say that?”

Because it’s the truth. “I’ve hurt people because of my job. And I don’t want you to get hurt because of it.”

“I can handle myself,” you told him, making him smirk. “Maybe you’ve done bad things, but does that really make you a bad person?”

He rolled over so he was on top of you, your legs parting without a word. Good girl. “Maybe having you makes me a better man.”

“Who said you have me?” you asked with a smile.

No one else will ever have you. “You know I’m not letting you go.”

You gasped as he began to grind his hips, fluid in his motions as he dragged his cock along your folds. You were wet, he made sure of it. You’ll always be ready for me. I’ll make sure of it. “And who said I want you to?”

If you only knew the things I had done. One day. And you’ll still be mine. “You better not,” he whispered as a hand skimmed across your throat.

Nick felt your sharp inhale as he pushed past your folds, your body succumbing to his. Tomorrow, he’ll tie you to the bed and keep you too fucked out to think about anything but him. He’ll show you that you’ll never need anyone else. And, in return, he’ll give you the world. A world of his own vision.

And if anyone got in the way of his happiness would regret ever crossing him.

[dollslayer]

Champagne Problems

Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

W/C: 4,642

Warnings: NO MINORS, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute (sorry), I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie's writing challenge using the bartender au! If you like this please reblog and comment and check out my other fics!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You sighed internally before slapping on a smile for yet another group picture. Your bridesmaid dress was itchy and you already regretted spending the entire night in it, as the reception was just starting. But it was your sister’s day and you decided that if what she really wanted was for you to wear this itchy monstrosity to honor her wedding then damn it, you’d do it. So you leaned in close with the rest of the wedding party and posed some more.

When the photographer had finished with his photos you were ushered to the family table and wedged between your mother and your aunt. You mentally cursed your sister for seating you with them because they were going to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone while simultaneously lamenting that you’d dumped your boyfriend of 4 years just a month earlier. Your mother wanted grandchildren so badly, you didn’t know why she couldn’t just settle to get them from your sister.

“Sweetheart, you and Steve were so good together though! Remember when he surprised you at Christmas with that puppy? I don’t know how you let a man like that go…” Your mom chided.

You grabbed the attention of a passing server and grabbed the champagne off their tray. If you were going to have this conversation again you needed liquid courage to do so. You downed it in three sips and your mom scoffed at you.

“Mom, we've been over this. I didn’t ask him to do that, we agreed we weren’t ready for a dog. Ugh, oh my god, anyways, we just didn’t work together. Sometimes things don’t work out, Mom. You’ll still get grandkids, just not from me.” You patted her on the shoulder but she just pursed her lips and looked past you to your aunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get wasted but you couldn’t do that to your sister. You wouldn’t get blackout drunk, but you were definitely getting drunk tonight. The reception was being held in a hotel and the wedding party had a block of rooms reserved so it’s not like you had to drive. You just had one thing to do before you did that.

The moment you’d been dreading had finally arrived, the toast. You held your freshly topped-off glass of champagne and brought your fork to it to get everyone’s attention. Someone handed you the mic and you hesitated before taking it and nervously cleared your throat.

By what you assumed could only be the grace of God you managed to deliver the perfect toast about finding the right person and soulmates and anything else you might find in a hallmark card with only minor stumbles. Everyone clapped and your brother-in-law wiped a stray tear and everyone finally dug into dinner. You just hoped that would mean your mother would be quiet about Steve for the next 20 minutes and then you could escape to the open bar.

____

You almost made it through dinner scott-free and sat back to watch your sister’s first dance. Just when you thought you were in the clear it was your aunt that threw a wrench in your plans. She was three glasses of wine deep and had that glassy look in her eye when she grabbed your elbow and pulled you closer. She spoke to you in a low voice while trying not to fumble her words.

“Listen kiddo, I know your mom is hard on you about Stevie but she just wants what’s best for you. What you two had… it was so good even I liked him! I don’t like anybody y’know that. So.. so why don’t you jus’ give ‘im another chance, make your mom happy? Couldn’t be that bad, could it? Maybe he’ll even… surprise you”

You mentally blocked out her words halfway through her speech, hoping neither of you would remember it by the end of the night. Right now you just had to get her to stop so you could get away from the table. You didn’t think you could take one more second of being shamed for leaving Steve.

You smiled sweetly and nodded in understanding towards her words.

“I know, Aunt Linda. I know. Sometimes things happen, I love mom but I’ll find someone else.”

With that you patted her on the shoulder and took off in search of the bar.

There were two bars and you wanted to go to the less crowded one. Looking around you had spotted it just past the dancefloor and made a beeline. Weaving through the now open dance floor and escaping the invitations to join your family you finally made it and leaned heavily against the countertop with a sigh.

“Rough night?” Your eyes follow the gruff yet amused voice and find that it belongs to a very handsome man with a defined jaw, clear blue eyes, and long hair that was tied back.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know that half of it. Nothing like a wedding to remind you how single you are” You joked.

“Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s rough. You look like you need a drink, what can I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Just no vodka.” You requested.

He smirked and nodded, perusing the lines of bottles that were in front of him. He bit his lip as he concentrated on what to make and you tried not to stare. You watched him get to work on your drink and couldn’t help but notice the way you could see his muscles move underneath his dress shirt.

He turned back around and proudly presented you with something fizzy in a highball glass.

“My own concoction, I even used the non-watered down liquor. Just for you” He says with a wink.

You try your best to hide your shy smile and accept the drink.

“Thank you, how sweet of you.” You tell him.

“It’s nothin’. So how’s a gal like you single? If you don’t mind my asking. Seems pretty impossible to me.”

You're caught somewhere between flattery and embarrassment and just hope it doesn't show on your face. You take a long sip of your drink and gear up to answer him.

“Well, I just got out of a 4 year relationship, actually. He’s really sweet but he always had a tendency to steamroll my needs and just do whatever he was going to do. Eventually that shit adds up.” You sigh.

“Like for example - last year we had talked about getting a dog and I said I wasn’t ready, we’re just both way too busy and then on Christmas day he shows up with this puppy! And then I’m the villain for telling him no! The puppy ended up going to a good home but he did stuff like that all the time. It just became too much. Anyways now my mom won’t get off my ass about leaving him.” You shook your head.

“A puppy? Wow, that’s… intense. That’s a lot, I’m sorry. You finish that drink and I’ll pour us both a shot” He laughed.

You nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the cocktail. He held up two shot glasses and extended one to you.

“A toast, to… wait. I don’t even know your name!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed and he answered you.

“I’m James but you can call me Bucky” You made a face at that.

“What kinda name is Bucky?” You asked before giving him your own name.

“Whatever, I’ve got two shots of tequila, you want one or not?” How could you say no?

“A toast,” You continued, “To you and your weird name, Bucky.”

He laughed and you clinked your glasses together, then against the counter before downing them in one go. You tried your best not to make a face and looked up at Bucky to find him extending you the lime chaser, which you took gratefully.

“Hoo… I could use like, 3 more of those to get through tonight. So, how’d you get into bartending?”

“I needed somethin’ to put me through school and I figured this beats stripping. Though, with some of the customers we get sometimes I’m not so sure”

You laughed at that and Bucky went on to tell you anecdotes of all the crazy people he’s had to serve, disastrous weddings, and the time he got a lapdance from the bride herself. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed but you were enjoying talking to him, forgetting your mission to be drunk.

The two of you kept swapping stories and were getting to know each other a bit more. He let you vent about Steve and just listened, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not be told what it is that you should be wanting. When you pictured the night you didn’t picture yourself confiding in the bartender tonight but if you were honest you were enjoying yourself. It beat awkwardly dancing with your family and enduring more disappointed remarks from your family.

You had hoped you could hide out at the bar and spend the entire night unscathed when the double doors to the ballroom opened. Your heartbeat in your ears as time slowed down around you as a blond head of hair made its way through the archway. Your laughter died in your throat when Baby blue eyes found you across the room and you froze like a deer in headlights. No. Nononononono this isn’t happening.

Time has somehow come to a halt while simultaneously hurtling forward since you can’t get yourself unstuck from this moment yet fail to realize that Steve is now standing right in front of you. His hair is swept back perfectly and he flashes you that million dollar smile of his that shows off his dimples perfectly. You scold yourself for checking him out but damn did he always clean up nice.

“Hey, sweetheart” he says shyly, as if he’s not crashing your sister’s wedding to get with you.

“What…? What are you doing… here?” You ask quietly, trying to avoid a scene.

Before he can answer you your mom comes up behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders tight, all with a big, bright smile on her face. Of course. How did I not see this coming?

“You made it!” She exclaimed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Of course, sorry to have missed the ceremony but there’s still plenty to celebrate, right?” He asked with his signature boyish smirk.

Shock was still in full effect on your features as you stood stock still. But that shock was soon giving way to anger as you slowly pieced together everything that was happening. Your mom had brought back Steve to try and get you back together and Steve was steamrolling you again.

“I… I, can’t. I can’t-” You started

“Sweetheart, how many of those have you had? You need some water.” Steve motions to the drink in your hand and you feel the anger running through your veins about to take over. You have to move this out of the room. Now.

“Why don’t we move this to the hall?” You suggested quietly.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started moving towards the exit but you did spare one last panicked glance towards Bucky. He looked confused and his brows were quirked in a way that made him look upset, almost. You sent him a pleading look before turning back around and preparing yourself to deal with this shitshow that had slowly unfolded before you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. You got this. Your hand begins to push the door open when Steve’s much larger one covers yours and gets the job done. An action that you once would’ve thought was sweet, one that you would’ve made you swoon, even, is currently pissing you off.

You two made your way to the hallway and you looked around before you started in on him.

“Okay, what the hell, Rogers? Crashing my sister’s wedding? Really?! I don’t give a shit if my mom put you up to this I-”

“Sweetheart, please. She thought you might be having second thoughts and maybe us seeing each other would… patch things up. We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart” Steve attempted to console you, reaching out to try and rub your arm but you pulled back.

“No! I am so sick of you running me over! You never listened to me or what I had to say and this is exactly why I broke up with you, Steve! You’re being so fucki-”

“Hey, babe, everything okay out here?” Bucky’s voice surprised you but not as much as his lips pressing a kiss into your hair and his arms wrapping around your waist.

You had to crane your neck to look back and up at him. It took all of two seconds for you to piece together what you’d hoped was the truth. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as if to say “come on” and in all your desperation you went with it. You supposed that his formal uniform made him pass for a regular guest.

“I, ah, yeah, yes. Steve here was just leaving, right?” You asked him.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a stunned expression, mouth slightly open in disbelief. His hand reached out towards your shoulder but Bucky pulled you back gently.

“Doll, are you serious? Who even is this guy? Does your mom know about this?”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s… new…” You told him.

“Right,” Bucky cuts in, “It’s new so we weren’t telling anyone just yet but she figured I should at least be here for the reception”

“Seriously?” Steve scoffs, “Man bun? What does he have that I don’t? C’mon, you know what you and I have is real.”

“What you and I have is over, Steve. You never listened to me, always pushed me further than I was ready for. We’re done, it’s over. I’m sorry for whatever Mom told you”

Steve took a harsh breath inwards and you watched him try to decide whether he should walk away or blow up. Based off of the veins popping in his forehead, he was opting to blow up.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to but-”

“She said it’s over, punk. Move along” Bucky cut in. He took a protective step in front of you and pushed his shoulders back, squaring up to Steve. Steve seethed quietly and you two exchanged very tense glances.

“I’m telling your mother about this. I doubt she’ll be happy to hear you brought some random person to your sister’s wedding.” Steve spat.

He walked past the two of you and bumped shoulders harshly with Bucky. Bucky’s jaw tensed and his grip on your waist tightened but he didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a step back to get a proper look at you.

“You okay?”

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you looked like you could really use the help.”

“Well… thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” You laughed to yourself a little and added, “We’re not even together 5 minutes and you already have all my emotional baggage”

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve got some crazy exes too. So what now? You going back in?”

You became a little flustered at that but moved past it with a sheepish grin.

“No,” You shook your head, “I think it’s best for everyone if I just go up to my room and avoid a whole scene.”

“Well at least let me walk you up. I wouldn’t put it past that creep to follow you.”

“What about the bar?”

“We’re overstaffed and the party’s winding down anyways. They’ll get on without me”

“Alright then” You accepted and started off towards the elevators.

You two were standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when you spotted the doors to the ballroom open. Your mother was looking around, her face a picture of anger. Lucky for you the doors closed before she could look in your direction and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You know as far as fake boyfriends go I’d say you’re pretty good”

“Just good? C’mon I had that guy on the ropes.”

“Yeah alright,” You relented with a grin.

You exited the elevator car and made your way down the hallway until finally you reached your door. You fished your keycard out of your wallet and turned to Bucky.

“Hey… do you wanna… maybe come in? Hang out? I know you’ve got work but if you’re overstaffed maybe…” You trailed off. There was a beat of silence and you felt regret instantly, thinking you’ve asked too much of him. “Y’know what nevermind, you don’t have to, I’m sorry I-”

“I’d love to hang out with you, if you’re okay with that. Plus it’s probably better I wait to get back until the wedding’s over. Can’t really show my face as your boyfriend and then get back behind the bar, can I?” He said with a soft smile.

“Suppose you’re right,” You swiped the card and cracked open the door.

You stepped inside and felt like you could finally breathe again. You kicked off your heels and went to turn on the lights. You reached back to get the zipper of your dress but couldn’t quite get there.

“Will you get my zipper?” You asked Bucky. He nodded and came closer to you.

You could feel his warmth radiating from him when he was this close. Your nostrils filled with the heady scent of his aftershave. He smells so good. He unzipped you halfway and left the rest for you.

You thanked him and grabbed your change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Relieved to finally be free of the itchy monstrosity of a bridesmaids dress you sighed and put on a tank top and pair of shorts. You realized the tank top showed a little more of your cleavage than intended but you shrugged it off and exited the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he took a sharp breath in but tried to play it cool. It half worked, you caught him staring a little bit and giggled to yourself. When you looked at him again he was undoing his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Wonder what he’d look like if he unbuttoned just a few more… You stopped yourself in that line of thinking and joined him on the couch.

“I think your phone’s gonna zap itself into an early grave with the way it’s been going off” Bucky said as he pointed to your phone on the table.

You picked it up to find you had several missed calls from your mother, one from Steve, and one very long text message from him that was already inducing a headache. You opened it, forgetting you had read receipts on. Oops. You weren’t going to read this now in front of Bucky, so you shut it off and put it aside.

“So how are you feelin’?” He asked.

“Better now that I’m out that damned dress. As for my family, they'll get over themselves. I don’t know why who I’m dating is such a big deal to them anyways.”

“You do look more comfy now that you’ve changed. If you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re just as gorgeous now as you were all dolled up”

You felt heat flood your cheeks instantly and eked out a thank you. You and Bucky talked for an hour more or so and in that time you’d found yourself nodding off with your head on his chest. On instinct he brought your whole body closer to him and put his arm around you. If you were less sleepy you’d be embarrassed but right now you didn’t care.

Bucky had moved slightly and inadvertently jolted you awake. You shot up and realized that you’d cuddled your way into Bucky’s side and now the embarrassment was catching up with you. You instantly scooted back to give him some space.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to cuddle you” You said while avoiding his gaze.

You felt a hand on your thigh and finally looked up to find him smirking at you.

“I didn’t mind it. It’s getting late though, I should get back.”

You were slightly disappointed but nodded your head. You rose and followed him to the door. He went for the handle but turned around when you grabbed his hand. He stepped away from the door and was in your personal space. You looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Thank you, again, for what you did. It was really sweet of you.” He smiled down at you and brought one hand to your face. Oh God, I didn’t prepare for this. Your heart was beating just a little harder as you looked into his clear blue eyes.

“For you? Anytime. I had a really fun time with you tonight.”

“Me too.”

With that his other hand came up to cup your face and he kissed you sweetly. It wasn’t until you kissed him back that he pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t wanna make you uncomf-”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and brought him in for another kiss. This time more demanding but just as sweet. He let out a small moan and you swear you could’ve melted. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands moved their way down your body and brought you even closer to him. You could feel that he was hard and it only made you want him more.

Without breaking the kiss you started to move backwards towards the bed until finally you were just at the edge of it. You broke apart for air and searched his eyes only to find his pupils blown wide in lust. You cupped him through his pants and he groaned. He was big. Maybe even bigger than Steve.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do,” He breathed out. You shook your head and kissed him again.

“I want you, I’m sure.” You panted out.

“I don’t have a condom”

“Doesn’ matter, I’m on the pill” You told him. With that his hands were up your tank top and you’d helped him to remove it. He worked on his shirt next and while he fumbled with the buttons you took off the rest of your clothing.

Bucky was every bit as devastating as you’d thought he’d be and you let out a genuine sigh. His toned muscles rippled throughout his arms and torso and you watched him remove his boxers and you’re not entirely sure your jaw hadn’t dropped. He noticed you gawking and chuckled as he leaned down to join you on the bed.

“See somethin’ you like?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though, he pushed you backwards onto the bed and kissed you again, this time trailing his kisses all the way down your body. He stopped and took his time to admire each of your breasts, licking and biting your nipples. You’d gasped in surprise and pleasure. He moved his way down finally to your pussy and looked up at you.

“Can I? You could only nod and let out a shaky breath as you sat up on your elbows and watched him get to work. He kissed and caressed your thighs until finally his fingers were prodding at your entrance. He groaned at how wet you were and pushed two fingers in. You let out an obscene moan and your hands went into his locks. His tongue lapped at your clit before he sucked on it, all the while pumping his fingers in and out of you in search of your G-spot.

You’d pulled his hair out of his bun and guided his tongue where he needed to be. Finally getting the right angle you were whimpering in pleasure, back arched almost to a point of pain. He’d finally found the spot he’d been looking for and your eyes shut closed in pleasure.

“Please,” you begged, “Please don’t stop I’m so close”

You pushed his head harder against you and his fingers sped up. It was only a matter of moments until your toes were curling in pleasure and you writhed on the bed in the aftershock of your orgasm. Bucky continued to lap away at you until you pushed him off. He came back up to eye level with you and had a wolfish grin.

“Who knew you’d make such noises? God it was so hot”

You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to grab his cock. You pumped it a few times before you moved down to return the favor when he stopped you. You looked up at him with brows pinched in concern.

“Don’ worry about me, I just wanna feel you”

He moved you beneath him and you spread your legs apart for him. You were still sensitive in your post-high when his tip brushed your clit but you didn’t mind the bolt of pleasure. He aligned himself with your entrance and looked you in the eye as he pushed all the way inside of you slowly. You let out an involuntary moan, trying to accommodate his full length.

“You good?” He asked.

“I’m good, you’re just...big” He smirked at that.

“Can I move or do you need a second?”

“No, you can move, please move.”

One hand on your hip and the other on your breast he started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You swore you could feel every bump and ridge of him with every inch he put into you. His pace picked up and he kissed the column of your neck, finding the one spot that drove you crazy. Your small mewls turned to full moans and he began fucking you harder.

“‘M not gonna last much longer” He told you. You didn’t say anything in response, just brought him in for another kiss and grabbed a handful of his ass to push him further inside you. He chuckled at that and took the hint.

He was going the hardest he had so far and you were holding on for dear life and loving every minute of it. His panting breaths were heavy in your ears and you reached down to toy with your clit so you’d cum together. His thrusts were getting a little sloppier and your hand moved faster, quickly approaching both your peaks. He let out an almost pornographic moan as he came, He fucked you through his orgasm and not a moment later you came for a second time. Your bodies melded together as you rode out the last waves of each other’s orgasms.

Finally Bucky stopped and held himself with one hand, trying to catch his breath. You were slightly dazed, trying to compute how your night had ended up like this. Bucky rolled over onto the bed and you felt the mess between your thighs. You looked over to him with a hazy smile.

“So, I know we’re doin’ things a little backwards here but, maybe I could take you out some time? If you want?”

Your smile grew even wider and your heart felt so light in this moment.

“I’d like that”

You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold or how to even begin cleaning up the mess with your family. You’d deal with it all in the morning, for now you’d just bask in the afterglow with your fake boyfriend and be grateful for chance meetings.

[istorkyou]

Hearts Of Glass (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x reader

Warning - Language.

Synopsis - Can a healed heart stay healed forever?

@punkrocknpearls ❤️ 4ever!

Thanks to everyone who has read, liked, commented and reblogged!!

Tag List @youbloodymadgenius @nothingtolosebutweight @smears-and-spots @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @itsamysticalmystery @petite-hime​ @threekeysandkiwis​

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 / Epilogue

3 years later

It's time. Ivar feels it’s time. 

So much has happened in the last few years, he is barely the same person as he was when he was with her. His life has changed dramatically. He lives near London now and is the father to a wonderful two year old son.

It was never easy, making his way through the mess of his head. But the intensive therapy to help him sort through the quagmire and, despite having ups and downs, Ivar knows he’s clearer, older, much more equipped to deal with life and it’s emotional challenges than he’s ever been.

 One thing hasn’t changed though. He thinks about her everyday. Ivar knows he still loves her and he has missed her every day since she left. 

He isn’t angry at her anymore, he has come to understand the reasons she did it. It wasn’t her being selfish, as he thought for a long time, or cowardly. She couldn't be his rehab, she wasn’t his therapist. She had been through enough in her own life to take him on in the state he was in.

He has come to realise she didn't just break his heart by leaving, she broke her own as well. 

His therapist has set him a goal to make amends with people, to aid his own healing and over the last 12 months he has been doing as such. He and Sigurd are in a better place because of it. He even spoke to Freydis, just the once, but it brought him some closure in his head. Now it was time for Y/N. The hardest.  

He has been dreading this. He has searched for her over the years on social media, she is on there but all her profiles are private and the profile pictures give nothing away about her personal life. He has written countless messages to her but deleted them all. There is no way of doing this but face to face. He knows he is being selfish. He needs to see her to make up for the past, but mostly he wants her back. In his arms, in his bed and he wants to be back in her heart. She never left his.

Thora finally gave in and gave him her address. She really did not want to, he has asked countless times over the years for her number and address but Thora has always refused. She sees the change in him now though. She understands the need. He asks about her situation but Thora refuses him, it is not her place to share information about Y/N with him. She had always drawn a very firm line in that respect. 

He has Google maps open as he drives, trying to find her house. She lives in a village in the south of England, a little over 2 hours from where he lives now. Very quaint, he thinks with a little grin as he searches for her house. He finds it eventually and there is a big red door in the middle of the property. His stomach flips over and over as he makes his way up the path. The path to her. He knocks twice and waits. 

A very tall man answers the door. Ivar is shocked for a minute, looking at the door number hoping he has the wrong house, but he doesn’t. He looks back at the man who opened the door and he sees a flicker of recognition and maybe disappointment cross his face. A million thoughts rush through his mind. Of course she’s with someone, why would he think she would be single after all this time. His stomach drops at the realisation and, not for the first time since he made the decision to come here he has started to rethink. His body is rapidly moving into flight mode; he starts to take a step back and turns his body away. 

“Ivar?” Tall Man asks. Ivar whips his head back to face the man and nods stiffly. Tall Man stares at him as if trying to decide what to do. A massive sigh escapes the stranger, he moves aside and extends a reluctant arm into the house as an invitation. Ivar is confused and is stuck to the spot for a few seconds.

 “Come on in, I am sure she would like to see you.” 

This was not the response Ivar is expecting; a punch in the face from this new guy, maybe, a warning to fuck off and stay away, but not an invitation in.

They walk through the house into the kitchen. Ivar looks around the place and sees her everywhere. He also sees glimpses of himself and his heart swells in pride. He sees one of his photos hung on the wall, the one with Hvitserk and Thora dancing on one of their nights out. He sees the picture of her he took in the midst of their relationship. It’s a profile shot of her, her face tilted to the side and up slightly, as if she hasn’t felt the sun on her face for years. 

He remembers the day. They had packed a picnic and took it to the park, the weather suited them both, not too hot for him, not too cold for her. They had been open to each other, content and happy. It was before the insecurities overtook him, before the guilt overtook her. The few precious months when they were together and neither of their pasts had crept in and destroyed them.

It’s his favourite picture he has ever taken. He has the same one on his wall at home.

He can see a picture of her when she was much younger, late teens maybe, laughing with a man, next to it is a picture of her in a wedding dress next to the same man. Wow, so that is Him. 

Ivar has never seen a picture of Him. He didn’t look as Ivar imagined, his hair was a mass of tight, black curls and he was built like an athlete, tall and lean. Gods, she looks happy in those pictures. His Y/N. The photo next to it is of her and Him with the South American waterfall in the background, the same waterfall that hung on her wall in Kattegat years ago. No wonder she was annoyed at him the first time they met and he questioned her about it. 

He also can see a smaller frame on the wall but can’t make out what’s in it, stepping forward he can see what it is and his mouth curls up into a smile, a sad smile. It’s a portion of map and in the middle is a red pin, stuck into Kattegat.

They were fated. He had always known it.

He is pulled out of his thoughts when Tall Man calls out. 

“Oi, someone is here to see you, you little troll!” He looks Ivar up and down, a tiny hint of a sneer on his face.

Ivar’s head whips around. Tall Man’s flippant words send a prickle of annoyance over Ivar’s skin. His face pulls into a scowl.

Movement catches his eye from the window that leads to the garden, he sees her as she floats in through the kitchen door. His breath catches.

She looks every bit as beautiful as he remembers. She is wearing shorts and a plain white t-shirt, tanned skin smooth and inviting, as it always had been. Her hair is a bit darker than when he last saw her. His heart stops and his breath hitches in his throat. She's taken his breath away. Butterflies don't do the feeling in his stomach justice.  

“Eat a dick I am not a troll!” she shouts at Tall Man before seeing the look on his face and turning her eyes to find Ivar there.

She stops in her tracks, an expression on her face that Ivar can’t read. He stares into her jewelled almond eyes again; he has dreamt of them so often in the last three years, they are exactly the same, maybe a couple more laughter lines in the corners. Good, he thinks, laughter has been part of her life since us. 

As she is stuck to her spot staring at him, Ivar notices a child on her hip.

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

You walk in through the kitchen door, you aren't sure who is here, maybe the neighbour who was supposed to be dropping back the lawn mower you lent her.

“Eat a dick I am not a troll!” you shout at Mark as you give Rosie a little jiggle on your hip, making the toddler giggle. 

Then you see Ivar standing in her kitchen.

The blood rushes through your ears and you feel dizzy. He's not really here, you bloody idiot, get more sleep! You blink multiple times and he is still there. Your mind goes blank. Your next thoughts are to run to him, to throw your arms around him and kiss his beautiful face and tell him he has never left your thoughts or heart. But your body won't allow for it and your rational brain is grateful.

You see his eyes slide down your body to Rosie sitting on your hip. He stares at Rosie, then to Mark. He is searching her face and looking back at Mark, clearly seeing the family resemblance. Ivars eyes find their way back to you and you suddenly realise what he thinks he is seeing. Your mouth falls open, and you can feel heat in your face and on your chest. 

“I've made a mistake coming here,” Ivar mutters, his voice tight, as he waves a hand between you and Mark. Ivar thinks this a family scene. His brow furrows and he again finds her eyes, his slightly misty. 

“Aunty Y/N, who is that?” Rosie asks, pointing at Ivar. 

Mark walks toward you and plucks Rosie out of your arms.

“Come with me baby girl, let’s go and see what mummy is doing in the garden.” 

Ivar's face is confused at first, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his brain. When he figures out that he is not looking at a mother, father and their child, you see him let out a very slow, relieved breath.

Mark turns his back towards Ivar and puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“You OK?” Mark's eyes are searching your face. You look at him and give him a quick nod and he squeezes your shoulder.  

“I’m just outside if you need me, OK? I will make sure Lils does not interrupt you.” He glances back to Ivar, “nice to meet you” Mark says tersely, giving Ivar a hard stare before he walks out the kitchen door.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. 

“Hi Y/N. Surprise!” It comes out more of a question than a statement.

You clear your throat. “You are fucking right about that,” you reply softly and you can feel your shoulders are still tense. You are now aware you haven't moved a muscle since you saw him. “Why are you here?” You ask in a daze. 

A fleeting look of hurt crosses his face, and you grimace. 

“I’m sorry, that came out way more rude than I meant it to,” you quickly say. “I’m just in total shock that you are in front of me. Am I dreaming? Did I take a whole bunch of drugs?” You are questioning yourself. 

He lets out a huffed laugh “No, I’m really here. I’m sorry to just show up here after all this time. Can I have a glass of water, my mouth is dry.” The request makes you move from the spot you have been stuck to. “Or something stronger, I am nervous,” he jokes, rubbing his palms together. 

You get two glasses of water and gesture for him to sit down at the table. He takes you up on the offer and you take the seat next to him. His face is serene as he stares at you.

You sit in silence for a minute, eyes taking each other in. Your eyes wander to his hair which is different, he still wears it shaved on the sides but it's short on top now. He runs his hand through his hair and you smile. He has read your thoughts, not for the first time. His eyes seem less tortured, maybe that's just what you want to see. 

“That guy, not your husband then?” Ivar asks, taking a big gulp of water.

“No,” you scoff, “that giant giraffe is Mark, Lily’s husband. The baby is theirs. No husband for me.” Relief floods his face and your stomach flips. 

He clears his throat, clearly readying himself for something. 

“I have been going to therapy, Y/N, for a long time now. My therapist wants me to make amends with people from my past to help me heal and move on.”

Now your stomach drops knowing that he is here for cathartic reasons, to ‘move on’ as he put it. He isn’t here for me, you blink quickly to stop tears being produced.

“I’ve worked on my relationship with Sigurd,” he laughs. “Although he’s still thoroughly dislikable I can be around him without wanting to inflict harm.” You sneer slightly at the memories of Sigurd being a twat. 

“I met up with Freydis...” Your eyes widened at this news. “Yeah, just the once. It took all the new skills I've learned to be able to do that, believe me, but I said what I needed to say to her and I felt much better for it. Like a weight was lifted.”

You study his face, it has changed, you can see it now. He seems more mature than in Kattegat. The clenched jaw is gone and he has a relaxed air about him. 

“And...and I have a son.” The news hits you like a 10 tonne truck, directly in your stomach. Married with a child you realise. His smile is so genuine and happy that you are unable to stop these tears. You wipe them away quickly. You are so happy for him but it hurts like hell.

“Ivar, I am so happy for you, that’s great news. What’s his name? How old is he?” You are genuinely interested even though it’s ripping you to shreds. He pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of a baby version of himself. The eyes, the hair, the scowl! “Oh Ivar, he is beautiful, he looks just like you!” You sniff.

“His name is Igor, wasn’t my first choice, but his mother is Russian and you can’t really argue with a pregnant lady…” he chuckles. 

The mention of his partner sends a jolt of pain through your chest. This might be therapy for him but this isn’t good for you. This is tearing open old scars which have taken years to heal properly. He will never know how much leaving him tore you apart. 

“I am sure you are a very happy family,” you force out, trying to sound as happy as possible but the tears falling betray your real emotion. His brow knots together.

“No, no, Y/N sorry, I didn’t explain myself properly. Igor’s mother and I are not together. We actually never were, well, for a couple of nights but nothing more. She married someone when Igor was a year old. Great guy, English, we get on really well and he is amazing with Igor. They moved to London a few months ago so I live here now. I’m not with anyone,” he explains, with wide eyes.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His face softens. He lives in England? Oh god, that information is going to take a minute to get used to, you think to yourself.

You want to change the subject, it’s too tense and you are struggling to hold it together. 

“Right, so why exactly are you here, Ivar?” you ask softly, trying not to sound too abrupt. He sucks in a massive breath.

“To apologise to you for the person I was, for frightening you. To apologise for everything I put you through. When I was on my way back from the trip before you left, I had decided I was going to get help to change. I had set up an appointment to talk to someone. When I got home to the empty house, and your letter, I felt like my heart had been torn out. I knew I had let you down, I should have never been the one to make you feel unsafe or cause you to cry, I’m sorry I didn’t protect your heart better, Y/N. I was a mess after, I went from being devastated to hating you for leaving me.” He reaches for your hands but you pull them away and start to stand up from the table.

“I can’t do this, Ivar,” a sob escaping your mouth, his words slowly breaking your wounds open, fibre by fibre.

“Please Y/N. Just let me say what I need to say. I know it’s selfish of me, but I need you to hear this.” You sit down slowly and look out of the window, looking anywhere to avoid his eyes.

“I get it now. You took a huge risk in letting me into your heart and I didn’t hold up my end of the deal. I let my past darken me and it caused you to doubt us. I ruined us. I caused it all.” He looks at his hands and his tears fall.

“Ivar, that’s not true. I had my shit as well. I freaked out and I shouldn’t have let it build up in my head. I allowed your behaviour, I never called you out on it, I just wanted you to be happy and I lost myself in the process. That was on me, not you. I do hate this wanky term but I became your enabler--” You air quote it the word enabler. ”-- and when I realised what I had become, it was too late. I expected our new relationship to have the same dynamic as my fifteen year one. I wish I could have stuck around and worked it out with you, but it all brought up so many unresolved issues. It was best for us both that I left.” You exhale loudly and it’s shaky. You had talked this through with your counsellor years ago, you are surprised by the amount of pain that still comes along with the subject. 

This is torture.

You feel a black hole hovering near you, waiting to suck you back in. You are starting to get annoyed at him for bringing you back to this place. You aren’t going to hold it together much longer, you need him to leave.

He is tearing back up at what you have said “Y/N…..” his voice cracks again.

“Anyway,” you interrupt, trying to sound breezy, “it’s all in the past now. I’m glad you're doing so well, Ivar, truly I am.” You stand up, your body language signifying the end of discussion. 

“So, are you seeing anyone?” he asks quickly in a panicked tone, you can see him reading you, he knows he is about to be asked to leave.

His question startles you, you didn’t expect it.

“I-I was but we ended a while back. The fit was off, he was a lovely guy, but he just didn’t quite compare...” Your eyes catch his. 

You can see his face fall at the comparison remark, it creases with disappointment.

His face is puzzling to you, you thought the only reason he was here was for therapy purposes, but the crestfallen look he has, makes hope swell in your chest. Is he here for me? Fuck you hope he is. He has worked on himself with therapy, the walls around his heart have come down completely and you can see he isn’t the same Ivar you knew, he has changed for the better. And so have you. 

Enough time has passed for you that your heart is as healed as it is going to get. Like a Kintsugi vase put back together with gold paint, a reminder of what has happened before but that something beautiful can still be made from the broken pieces.

Your ghosts are gone. 

Shit, should you say anything? Oh fuck it, life really is too short.

“He didn’t compare to you, Ivar. No one ever will. I have missed you every day since I left you.” Your voice breaks into a sob, tears falling over your cheeks.

It takes him a few beats to process the words you have said, you can see it in his features. He doesn't move, just stares at you dazed and you start to think you've made a mistake, Oh fucking shit, I’ve read this all wrong a creeping embarrassment starts rising from your stomach and settles in a deep red on your chest and cheeks. 

Suddenly a smile splits his face in two, and he stands up quickly, stepping into your space and crashes his mouth on yours. You are so shocked to be kissing him again after all these years you are frozen. Your memories kick in, his taste, his smell, the feel of him flush against you, a noise of relief leaves your lips as you start to kiss him back.

You cling to each other, both sets of hands on the other's cheeks. Gods you've missed him, his mouth on yours, the taste of him. You need him back with you, you've been empty since you left him. You break apart, foreheads touching eyes locked together both sets have tears falling.

“I love you, Y/N. I never stopped. We can make it work, I know we can,“ Ivar says, like he has never believed something so fully in his life. 

“We definitely can and we will. The timing is right now, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around his neck, your face in his neck breathing in the scent of the man you love. “I love you, Ivar.” 

“I’m the man you deserve now, I promise you. I promise I will never hurt you again. I love you so much.” His voice is frantic with relief and he kisses every inch of your face, eventually nuzzling into your neck and inhaling deeply. His hands slide to your ass and grab it roughly. “I fucking missed this as well.” You both let out a laugh. 

You stay entwined together, neither wanting to let the other go. You shift away from him, stepping back slightly. You see panic and fear in his features as you move from him.

“Ask me then, do it right,” you say as you wipe your tears away and laugh. He looks at you with a knowing smile. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, Will you be my girlfriend?” He closes the gap between you, his hands are stroking the back of your neck sending shivers down your spine. 

“Nah, you aren’t really my type,” you reply, smirking at him with a cheeky grin.

“Still busting my balls after all these years.” He shakes his head with love in his eyes. 

Your eyebrow raises. “You remember what I do after I bust them, right?”

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

“Love?!” You shout up the stairs, pure excitement in your voice. “My Love, he’s here!” 

You rush to the front door, swinging it open as fast as you can and drop to your knees, arms open wide as you watch him run up the path laughing with an oversized backpack on his little frame. He crashes into you at full speed so it’s good you braced yourself for impact.

“Hello my little pickled onion!” You kiss his cheek as you stand and spin him around. 

“I’m five now, Y/N, I’m not little!” he says indignantly.

“Excuse me then, hello my big pickled onion!” He laughs and flings his arms around your neck for a cuddle. 

You can hear Ivar's familiar gait coming down the wooden stairs behind you. 

“Daddy!!!!!” Igor shouts and you put him down so he can run to Ivar who sits on the stairs and pulls him in for a crushing hug.

“Hello my love, I missed you so much, kiddo!” Ivar says into his hair.

Katia walks into the front door with the rest of Igor's bags, looking around your new house with a slight wrinkle in her nose and sneer on her lips. 

“Oh don’t look at it like that you cow, it’s a fixer upper I told you that on the phone!” You laugh at her expression. 

“I thought you were a property developer, why did you not buy a developed property?” She asks with disdain, catches your eye then laughs as she sees your middle finger raised and directed at her. 

When you and Katia met you were both a bit spikey with each other, she was worried about a new woman in Igor’s life and you were worried she wouldn’t like you enough to let you be in Igor’s life. All was hashed out over a bottle of wine and the realisation you both have a very similar sense of humour and didn’t take any shit, especially from Ivar! Since then, you’ve been great friends. Much to Ivar's relief. 

“We’ve finished Igor’s room if you want to go and check it out,” Ivar pipes up, “Come on boy, let’s show Mama your room.” He ruffles Igor’s hair as he bounds up the stairs excitedly, Katia and Ivar in tow. You leave them to it.

———————-

It’s late in the evening, Katia has gone home and Ivar has put Igor to bed in the new room he is thrilled with. 

You are in the kitchen sitting on the counter top flicking through a design magazine when you hear Ivar come into the kitchen to find you. He walks to you, grabbing your knees to part your legs so he can settle between them, and use you to lean on. His hands find your ass pulling you forward so your crotch is flush against him and he kisses you, sliding hands up under your shirt to caress your back.

“How come you didn’t come up with us earlier, for his bedroom reveal?” he questions.

“Just nice for you three to have a little time together sometimes, no big deal, it’s good for Igor,” you kiss him and roll your hips into him making his eyes flutter. 

“You are amazing,” he breathes in, his face between your boobs, fingers slowly unbuttoning your shirt. Running your hands through his hair, you revel in this feeling. A fresh start, a new house, yours and Ivar’s. You still can’t believe your luck. You had both been living between his house and yours, which was a logistical nightmare. You found your new home slap bang between your two places so you were only an hour from your friends and family, and an hour from Igor. 

Ivar opens your shirt fully and is leaving little butterfly kisses all over your chest.

“My Mum and brothers are coming in a few months to see us, with all the kids and wives. We will have to have things finished in the house by then,” he breathes onto your neck sending shivers to your core.

“You really are great at dirty talk aren’t you, My Love?” you tease him as he pulls your bra down over one of your nipples and pinches it harshly.

“Ouch, Ivar, don’t, that hurts!” You say pulling away from him, scowling. His face pulls into a quizzical expression. He knows you like the back of his hand, knows how to turn you on and how you like things, so your reaction is a surprise to him. You start to do your shirt up. 

“Women’s boobs get sensitive in pregnancy,” you announce to him, looking up from under your lashes. 

You watch it register on his face, his jaw drops and he stares blankly at you. 

“I’m pregnant, Ivar. Why do you look so shocked? We never stop fucking, I’m only surprised it’s taken this long!” you exclaim, laughing at him. 

“I can’t believe it, you are so old, surely your eggs are shrivelled up by now?” His face full of fake concern before creasing in laughter.

“Cheeky little shit!” You slap his chest playfully, laughing at his joke. 

“Can we call him Odin??” He laughs but you know he’s serious. 

He stops laughing, eyes on yours and they start to fill up with tears. “I am so happy, Y/N, this is the best news, I love you so much.” He peppers your face with kisses, lifting up your shirt and doing the same to your stomach until you are giggling and swatting him away.

“Soppy bugger,” you tease. “I love you so much. I hope the baby looks like you. If it’s a boy I will consider Odin as long as you get me anything I want when the cravings kick in!” You laugh at him. He holds up his hand for a high five, you give him one rolling your eyes. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for everything, for giving me a second chance, for becoming my wife, for giving me another child. I love you beyond measure.” 

“Yeah, I’m the tits,” you wink at him. 

THE END. 

[shotorozu]

attractive things you do a lot

[sorta milestone celebration, but also something i made during todo’s birthday]

character(s) : multiple; five or more.

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, hinted to have a strong quirk but it’s not mentioned alot

post type : headcanons + scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice.] third year au! but it’s nothing nsfw, so no need to worry.

note(s) : i was planning on doing denki, tamaki, monoma, and 2 other characters— but my idea train stopped at shinsou so i’m sorry about that! just let me manifest some ideas rq, and i’ll make a part two.

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

eye contact is so attractive to him, he can’t explain it’s exact details

it’s definitely the way the both of you guys can practically read each other’s expressions just by staring into each other’s eyes it’s sorta telepathic?? im half joking

he absolutely loves the way you look away bashfully when you realize he’s staring at you— as you try to pretend he wasn’t just staring at you not so discreetly

and if you feel like it, you’ll stare back at him— totally teasing him with your eyes, as he slowly realizes that you’ve caught him staring

really adores your thinking face for some reason, you could be plotting about giving bakugou a knuckle sandwich, and shouto would just stare like “my s/o’s so attractive :))”

another thing he really likes is when you hold onto his hand, dragging his left side to your face whenever you feel colder than usual

you practically do the same thing when it’s too hot, and he doesn’t care if you’re sweaty or not. nope, not one bit.

he always found it attractive when he sees you bop your head to songs you really like. shouto just really likes seeing you enjoy yourself.

an extra to the cool/hot bit, he makes you run towards his direction by turning off the ac/heater.

last but not the least, his heart swoons when you kiss his scar. he has always been insecure about it, and you have helped him a lot!

mild spice here— whenever you bite your lip, his heart skips a beat

your lips are just so perfect to him, the shape, size, and color. so biting your lip does something alright. he doesn’t know what exactly though.

to conclude this, todoroki’s just whipped for you— it’s very noticable when he finds you extra attractive.

midoriya izuku

he loves seeing you hyped about something you’re really interested in.

like todoroki, seeing you enjoy yourself genuinely makes him content. his s/o having their own interests is really big for him

strength is something he admires (but he’s not power hungry like end*avor, don’t get confused).

so no, it doesn’t just reflect on your strong and capable quirk—

no. it’s so much deeper than that to him, seeing that you can overcome challenges makes his heart swoon

when you tilt your head when listening to him- omg. he might just short circuit from the way you’re looking at him intensely. 

he likes it a lot when you reach for his hand, enveloping your hand against his

an extra point if you pay extra attention to the callouses and scars on his hands— purposely rubbing a thumb across his scars

fixing his tie.

like.. [SIMP SCREAMS] he doesn’t really know how to fix it properly, but if you do it for him— he’ll start imagining a rather domestic life so BWNDNWNS warn him

mild spice here— but he loves seeing you fix your hero costume?? there’s something about it that makes him refuse to look away. he thinks you’re very hot btw

but the top tier? it’s when you get along with his mom, and children

like.. you don’t have to be good with them, but you should at least be nice to them! midoriya’s deal breaker is if you don’t get along with his mom so.. you really have to in this relationship

bakugou katsuki

when you put him back in his place- well.. let me explain this one

people are so easily intimidated by him, so people don’t talk at him when he says some shit

so he’ll be genuinely surprised if you talk back at him, because it shows him that you're not afraid of him (and that’s important in a relationship with bakugou) 

when you put his face in his palms. he’ll scowl and tell you off, but he actually likes holding your face in his palms

his hands are naturally clammy, so he’s secretly so insecure about them, and if you show him that you really don’t care- then.. that’ll keep him up at night. 

same thing with shouto, but if you run to him for warm in colder weathers, that’ll give him an ego boost. 

knowing that you’ll only look for him, whenever you feel cold makes him feel all “mushy” inside. again, like how bakugou is- he’ll pretend he absolutely despises it but he’ll actually love it.

mild spice here- but seeing you all worn out, panting under him when he spars with you is something that’ll leave him speechless for the rest of the day. man can’t stop thinking about it, and he has to restrain himself. 

last but not the least- it’s when you touch/play with his hair. 

YUUUP. 

so unexpected because he never lets anyone touch it, sometimes not even his own mother. 

but the only hands that are touching the ash blond mesh that is his hair is you. 

do whatever with them. create small braids, comb it, tie it with a scrunchy, straighten it. really- he has trust in you

he’s just so whipped when you do it, and it calms him down. 

kirishima eijirou

when you call him manly 🤠

and when you do things he considers as ‘manly’ like going out of your way to train your quirk— and helping him study for something he doesn’t quite get and when you succeed

another ‘manly’ thing is when you manage to encourage him— because he himself had confidence issues

so if you do that, he’ll be planning the wedding asap

whenever you just make grabby hands at his hair— wanting to style his hair

oh and if you wanted to redo his roots (if they grow back) then he’ll let you <3 because he absolutely adores it

when you start tracing his jawline when you’re staring at him. he was very caught off guard when you did this for the first time

but he absolutely loves the sensation.

stretching before any exercise! just the way you twist yourself with ease.. he’s mesmerized

he stares a little too much, to the point he gets called out by bakugou multiple times

a little spicy here — he likes your teeth. normal teeth, canine teeth, fangs, whatever!

doesn’t matter if you’re bite your lip, or runnig your tongue along the edge of a tooth. are you trying to seduce him?

he will be seduced 💀 face practically rivalling his faux red hair, trying to avert his gaze— thinking about how pretty you just looked like.

last but not the least!

back hugs. he’s such a fan of them, regardless if you’re taller than him, or shorter

surprise him, and he’ll turn around with this big dopey smile— and he’ll trap you in his arms

shinsou hitoshi

okay, if you randomly send him pictures of yourself (either your prettiest pictures, or the weirdest pictures) he’ll be so in love

like— just look at you! you’re gorgeous to him (saves every singe candid photo you’ve send him)

this is a really weird one but.. when you pick up things with your feet (bonus points if you do it with ease.)

when you start fixing your hair, doing whatever to it— he’s just in awe. (have you hypnotized him with your beauty?)

get him things for his hair like headbands, scrunchies, little barretts and pigtails

he’ll keep it in for as long as he can— since his hair is a little wild, a little braid or ponytail wouldn’t hurt, right?

spice warning (?) whispering into his ear makes his heart pound 10x faster like.. are you trying to kill him?

his quirk gave him a habit of listening to someone’s voice.. a little too much.

SO IF YOU WHISPER IN HIS EAR, HE’LL STOP FUNCTIONING :) do whatever with that info tbh

last but never the least— when you support him, and his journey to becoming a hero

because people have told him that he’ll never be a hero because his quirk was too villainy

nope. you think differently, and that’s what he thinks is most attractive about you.

the ability to support and believe him, even if his quirk seems a little misleading.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing.

do not plagiarize my work :))

[tchallasbabymama]

Instinct

Hello, fellow whores. You asked for it and I hope I delivered. I present to you: T’Challa in heat❤️‍🔥! This one had me blushing, y’all.

The next request I work on will either be sugar daddy silver fox T’Challa or Star-Lord T’Challa. I know I just threw the latter in the lineup, but apparently, people are seriously feeling the lack of Star-Lord T content here and I want to do what I can to help fill the void.

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and, as always, comments and reblogs are my lifeblood! Enjoy😘

Word count: 4,903

CW: SMUT, infidelity

Instinct [instiNG(k)t] noun: an innate, typically fixed pattern of behavior in animals in response to certain stimuli.

For centuries, the descendants of the great Bashenga retained their hold on the Wakandan throne. Challenge Day after Challenge Day, they beat their opponents and were rewarded by Bast allowing them to ingest the heart-shaped herb. The herb imbued them with a panther’s strength, speed, and instincts, effectively turning each of them from an ordinary man into the Black Panther. Now, strength and speed are pretty self-explanatory, but what exactly were their instincts?

When T’Challa was crowned king and ingested the heart-shaped herb, he visited the ancestral plane and reconnected with his baba. Their reunion was one full of tears, but most importantly, T’Chaka took the time to impart his wisdom to his son. T’Challa spent hours talking to his baba about life, what to expect as king, and, most importantly, what to expect as the Black Panther.

T’Chaka had warned him about what was to come, but until it happened to him months later, T’Challa was in denial. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. When T’Challa woke up one sunny Wednesday morning, he felt strange. He felt feverish but not sick. Like most days, his morning wood stood at attention, tenting the crisp white sheets that laid across his lower half. He looked at the clock and saw that he had plenty of time to take care of himself, so he rolled to his side and reached for the tub of shea butter in his nightstand. T’Challa bit his lip as he rubbed his hands together to melt it down, but when he reached down to stroke his length, he nearly bit clean through it. He was much more sensitive than usual, and he wondered why...then it hit him. He jumped up and grabbed his kimoyo beads with his slippery hands, and he frantically opened his calendar.

“Twelve weeks,” T’Challa groaned as he counted backward to the night he became the Black Panther (the second time.) “Fuckkkk.”

He was in heat, and it was only going to get worse. T’Challa wracked his brain for ideas on what to do to fix his problem, but all he could hear was T’Chaka’s words echoing through his head.

“You should find a partner sooner rather than later. The instinct will take over you, and it will become unbearable if you do not have anyone to aid you.”

T’Challa had been so busy trying to rebuild the kingdom that his cousin damn near broke that he had forgotten to look for someone. Sure, there was Nakia, but she had moved to Oakland and their relationship quickly fizzled out. Then, there was that one Dora Milaje after he regained the throne, but that was a one-night thing and she went back to her wife the next morning. He needed to find someone, but who?

As the king’s mind wandered through his options, sweat beads began to form on his chiseled body. He knew he’d be no good today, so T’Challa typed up a message to his family and staff that he would be taking the day off. With that taken care of, all he needed to do was figure out how to get through this heat in one piece. T’Challa looked down at his dick again. It was swollen with need, and he watched as droplets of precum escaped from his tip. He couldn’t take it anymore and decided to bear through the sensitivity. Carefully, as though he might hurt himself, he reached his hand down and grabbed it in his hand. The whimper he let out was foreign to his ears, but it was all he could do when he felt the intense wave of arousal wash over him. He gritted his teeth as he began to slowly move his hand up and down his shaft. It seemed that everywhere his hand went, it left a deep burning sensation in its wake, but he just couldn’t stop. He rutted into his hand, and as soon as his thumb swiped over his reddened tip, he came undone quicker than he ever had before. His body jerked as the milky white substance spilled over his hand, and it seemed that he had plenty to give. However, instead of leaving him sated, all that did was arouse him more.

T’Challa had made a mess all over himself and decided to take a shower, but every touch of his hand, or even the water, drove him up the walls. He needed some pussy, fast. He exited the shower and allowed his body to air dry as he moisturized his mahogany skin. Minutes passed before he noticed that he was still massaging himself, too caught up in the sensation to notice the passage of time. His dick was rock hard again, and he groaned in frustration as he attempted to stuff it into silk lounge pants. He called for his breakfast to be brought to him and spent the day in his quarters, alternating between desperately jacking off and going through his contacts to find the right person. It had been so long since he had opened that figurative little black book that all of his usuals were taken, and unfortunately for him, they were hellbent on remaining faithful for some reason. As the day went on, his hunger grew in intensity, and it got to the point where neither his hand nor his sex toys could cut it anymore. He felt lost, he felt horny beyond belief, and he felt...famished.

T’Challa looked at the time again and realized that he hadn’t eaten in hours. He placed another order from the kitchen and waited impatiently for it to arrive. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wait for the food to be brought up; he was impatient because every moment that passed without him touching himself brought him more pain. He didn’t need the poor kitchen staff walking in on him feverishly pleasuring himself, so he just sat there and attempted to focus his mind elsewhere. Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Room service,” a melodic voice called out, and T’Challa smiled to himself at his friend’s playful tone. It was Xoliswa. He hadn’t seen her in almost a week, and he was sure she was out of town, yet here she was bringing him his dinner. Xoliswa started working in the kitchen at the palace seven years ago, and they grew close over the years. He was even in her wedding.

T’Challa unlocked the door with his beads, and she came right on in with the cart full of more food than he usually ordered.

“Somebody’s hungry today,” she joked. Just as T’Challa was about to respond with some smartass remark, an aroma hit him square in the face. It definitely wasn’t coming from the heaping portions of doro wot and rum cake he ordered. It was sickly sweet and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention, as well as something else.

The king began to salivate. “New perfume?”

“No, just the usual,” Xoliswa sighed. “Why?”

“No reason. You just smell different today is all,” he gulped to keep from drooling at her smooth, brown legs that were always on display. His eyes traveled up to the curve of her hips and the thickness of her waist before grazing over her delicious-looking chest and landing on her plump lips. Of course, he had noticed her looks before, and they would playfully banter and flirt back and forth from time to time, but this was the first time he was really seeing her beauty. Not only could he see it, but he could smell her from across the room, and his body was reacting in ways he couldn’t control. His dick sprung up and immediately started to harden as he watched her ass bounce in her flowy shorts when she pushed the cart out to the balcony. She had gone too far away, and he felt the intense need to be closer to her, so he bolted up and made his way outside with her.

“Here, let me help you.” T’Challa quickly picked up the heavy tray before she could and placed it on the table before taking his usual seat.

“I thought you didn’t feel good today,” she crossed her arms over her chest, unintentionally pushing her ample breasts even closer together. His body burned at the sight, and he visualized his lips wrapped around her undoubtedly perky nipples. He needed her body on his, but he knew he shouldn’t. Xoliswa was a friend, a confidant, a married woman...

“I don’t,” T’Challa cleared his throat and tried to focus his mind on anything but her. It wasn’t working, though. “But, uh, it’s not what you think. I just needed a day, that’s all.”

“Want to talk about it?” Xoliswa asked as she leaned against the balcony. He was acting strange, and it concerned her. “You know I’m here for you if you need me.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled darkly as something flared inside him.

“Why not?” she tilted her head to the side and uncrossed her arms. He would’ve sighed in relief, but she just made it worse by stepping closer to him. Xoliswa placed her hands on his shoulders the way she always did and began kneading his bare flesh. Little did he know, he wasn’t the only one fighting back their arousal. Xoliswa had a small crush on T’Challa since the moment she laid eyes on his muscular frame. Had she not been in a relationship the entire time she’d known him, she would’ve dropped down on her knees and given him the business by now. However, Xoliswa loved her husband and wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing...except for the occasional nights where she closes her eyes and all she can see is him. All she can feel is the king.

T’Challa let out a low groan as her hands worked out his stress, and as usual, the sound made Xoliswa flood the panties that had gotten wedged between her fat pussy lips. The scent of her arousal traveled straight to his nostrils, and his pupils blew wide. He jumped up and crossed the balcony in just a few quick strides, needing to get away from her before he truly lost himself to his lust.

“Seriously, what’s up with you today?!”

“N-nothing, you just...you smell so good, and- Xo, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Xoliswa narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him...but then her eyes fell to the large dickprint in his silk pants. She had seen him in those and similar pants several times before, and although they always left little to the imagination, she had never seen him in his full Bast-given glory. But this time? This time she could almost make out every vein through the soft fabric, which made her pussy spasm with need and release more wetness.

T’Challa could see that Xoliswa was staring right at his dick, and he knew she liked what she saw by the whiff of sweet honey that wafted his way. A low rumbling started in his chest like an engine revving as the burning need in his loins intensified.

Xoliswa spoke barely above a whisper, stunned but in awe of the man before her, “Why are you-”

“My heat,” he sighed.

“Your what?”

“My heat!” T’Challa snarled, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Any other time, he would assume he had scared her, but he knew better now. He could hear her heartbeat, he could smell her dripping pussy, and he could see her hardened nipples and the way her luscious thighs rubbed together in a feeble attempt to quell the throbbing between her legs.

“W-what’s that?”

T’Challa gestured for her to take a seat, and she lowered herself into the chair across from his, squirming in her pooled fluids. Her obedience just made him harder, if that was at all possible. He gingerly sat down across from her and just stared for a moment, her breathing getting shallower with each inhale.

“One of my newly acquired panther instincts requires me to, uh, mate every three months.”

“So...you basically ovulate four times a year,” Xoliswa joked in an attempt to break the tension, but he began to growl at her again, causing them both to shudder at the other’s arousal.

“It’s more than being a little horny and fertile, Xo. I have to- no, I need to find a release, or I’ll go crazy. My whole body is on fire, and masturbating just makes it worse. I’ve been in here all day-”

“You’ve been in here jacking off all day?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not helping?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you tried-”

“Yes. Whatever it is, I’ve tried it. Trust me.”

Silence descended upon the pair as they both stared at each other, stuck in a lustful feedback loop, chests heaving and mouths watering. Xoliswa was the first to break, so she stood and headed for the door. She had to get out of there, the atmosphere was too thick, and she couldn’t think straight with him staring at her like a piece of meat. She couldn't stand to look at him any longer or she might do something she’d regret later, but when he grabbed her wrist and looked up at her with those pitch-black eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

“Xoliswa, please,” he begged. He knew he had no business asking that of her, but he was desperate, and she just looked so damn delicious.

She bit her lip as her eyes traveled back down to his bulge that had started leaking through the fabric of his pants.

“Shit…”

“You like what you see?” his voice was lower than she’d ever heard. It seemed like everything he did turned her on more and more. T’Challa took a deep inhale so he could know for sure, and his head swarmed with the smell of her. “Yeah, you like it. I can smell that sweet pussy; it’s dripping for me, Xo.”

He had never spoken to her like that before, and every word lured her further into his trap. She had a brief moment of clarity and pulled her wrist from his grasp, taking a step back.

“T-T’Challa, I’m married-”

“Tell your body that, then,” he grumbled as he stood and stalked closer to her. She backed up with every step he took until she was wedged between his body and the doorframe. His arms went up on either side of her, and he leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath tickle her lips. “Tell me right now: do you want me?”

Her eyes darted around, desperate to look at anything but the coal irises that would surely draw her in. “I-I-”

“Say it, Xo. I want you so fucking bad,” T’Challa growled with his face buried in her neck, imprinting her scent deep in his brain. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but take a little bite. As soon as his teeth made contact with her skin, she let out a light moan and set his body into overdrive. He pressed his hips into her, and the heat of her skin made him whimper. The noise shocked her, and she realized just how much he needed her...as if the ten inches of clothed steel pressing into her stomach wasn’t enough of a sign.

Xoliswa had secretly wanted this for a long time. In her dreams, he’d fuck her good and deep and leave her a sobbing, leaking mess. Truthfully, if he had ever come onto her before this, she probably would have caved then, too, but she thought he was too gentlemanly to do so and pushed the dirty fantasy to the back of her mind. Boy, was she wrong. Right now, T’Challa couldn’t give a shit about chivalry and certainly didn’t care about her husband. Right now, all he wanted- no, all he needed was her body.

She pulled his curls to remove him from her neck, and he growled again at the titillating pain and the loss of contact.

“You want me?” she whispered, her lips mere centimeters from his.

“Mmm, more than anything.”

Xoliswa’s hand traveled down his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. T’Challa’s lip found its way between his teeth again as he struggled to maintain composure, but it all flew out the window when he felt her hand wrap around his throbbing length.

“Fuck! Xo, stop playing and-”

“You need me?” she teased as she pulled his pants down over his hips and let them pool at his feet. She wrapped both of her hands around his girth and stroked him softly. He was so sensitive that he jerked away from her hand, but she grabbed him and pulled him back in. Xoliswa had dreamed of this day, so why not make her dream come true?

Suddenly, T’Challa’s self-control went out of the window as he thrust into her hands and wrapped one of his much larger hands around her throat. She stared back at him with lust clouding her eyes as he met her lips for a hungry kiss. The taste of her on his tongue drove him wild, and she felt his dick begin to twitch. She picked up her pace and gripped him a little tighter, making him stick his tongue further down her throat. She melted into him. The firm grip he had on her made her knees weak, and just as they began to buckle, he pulled his lips from hers and said the three magic words he had uttered so many times in her dreams.

“On your knees.”

Xoliswa fell to the ground and looked up at him with her mouth opened wide for him to use. And use it, he did. T’Challa was surprised she could take all of him without any training, but he guessed her husband might have been around his size.

Her husband. He had a married woman on her knees, slobbering up and down his shaft. He had Xoliswa on her knees…

Just the thought of how wrong this was turned him on even more, and as if the same thought had occurred to her, Xoliswa started sucking harder. The spit foaming in the corners of her mouth and running down her chin soaked her chest, and the king longed to see more. He reached down and ripped her shirt down the middle, freeing her breasts from the confines of modern clothing. T’Challa grinned when he saw that not only was she not wearing a bra, but her nipples stood erect like two Hershey’s kisses ready for him to devour. Just the way he liked.

Xoliswa didn’t care that he had ruined her shirt; all she cared about was making her king cum. She wanted to taste him and swallow everything he had to give, so she grew impatient and turned it up a notch, fondling his balls in her hands as she sucked on him. Her tongue swirled around his tip, and he gripped her locs in his fist to hold her down on him as he exploded into her mouth. Splashes of him coated her throat, and she swallowed every last drop he gifted to her. She blinked up at him with those innocent-looking eyes as she sucked him like a straw, milking him for all he’s worth. Normally, he would get overstimulated at this point, but that seemed impossible. Xoliswa gave him the best head he’s had in a long time, but it still wasn’t enough to sate him.

T’Challa pulled her head off him, and the bridge of spit that connected them was a sight to see. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, kissing her once more to taste his saltiness on her tongue.

“You still...want...this pussy?” Xoliswa asked between kisses.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he grunted as he pushed up on her again.

Xoliswa pushed him away, and he looked at her like she had betrayed him. His face relaxed when he noticed the feral look in her eyes and the way her pheromones filled the air.

“Take what you need.”

T’Challa saw red, and the next thing he knew, he was buried deep inside her as he pounded her into the mattress. The arch in her back deepened as he fucked her rougher than her husband could have ever dreamed of. Xoliswa struggled to see as she reached for the sheets to hold onto, but he wouldn’t let her. T’Challa pinned her hands behind her back and continued to plow into her as she screamed.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that, baby! Ooooh, T’Challa-”

“You like that?”

“Yes!”

“Then take it. Fucking take it!” he roared as he released inside her, but neither was ready to stop. Xoliswa loved how his cum felt dripping out of her, making her pussy even wetter than it already was. Keeping it juicy for him to do whatever he needed to do to her body.

“This tight fucking pussy, Xo,” he groaned as he slowed down and grinded into her, stirring her insides. His heavy hand came down on her ass, and she let out the most adorable squeak. He smiled and did it again and again, her pussy tightening around him with every strike until she couldn’t take it anymore. Xoliswa’s body convulsed as she came all over the king’s dick.

“T’Challaaaa!” she wailed, and he stopped to massage her cheeks.

“Too much?”

She looked back at him and smiled mischievously with a glint in her eye. “No, my king.”

“I’m your king?” he teased while rubbing her clit, making her hips circle on his dick as he stood still and let her work.

“Yessss,” she whined.

“Then cum for your king one more time. I have another load for you,” he whispered in her ear with his teeth firmly gripping the lobe. His fingers tickled the underside of her clit, and she bucked her hips. “That’s your spot, huh?”

“Y-yes, my king!”

He alternated between circling her clit and strumming the underside for barely a few moments before her pussy began to grip him again. T’Challa leaned back and watched the way her pussy spasmed on him. He couldn’t hold out and exploded inside her once more.

“Mmmm, baby, I love when you do that.”

“You love when I cum in this pussy?”

“Mmmhm,” her voice grew higher in pitch the more she felt him twitch inside her.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

T’Challa pulled out slowly, and she moaned as his bulbous head dragged across her g-spot. He flipped her over with ease and slid right back into her slippery canal. She loved how full he made her feel, how he stretched her walls and beat the breaks off her pussy. But this? This felt so good.

His hips moved slowly as he stroked deep into her and gazed into her eyes.

“I just need one more, babygirl. One more, and I think I’ll be good, ok?”

“Whatever you need, my king,” Xoliswa whispered against his lips and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and he chuckled darkly.

“You want me in there deep, don’t you?”

“As deep as you can go, baby.”

“You’re filthy. Does your husband know what a little slut you are?”

Xoliswa released all over him again.

“Oh, you like when I talk about him when I’m in these guts? You like being reminded of how naughty you are, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” Xoliswa nodded with tears threatening to fall from her eyes from how good it felt to have T’Challa inside her.

“Let me ask you something,” he leaned in close to her ear and thrust harder. “Does he fuck you like I do?”

Xoliswa frantically shook her head, “N-no!”

“Then you come to me whenever you need a taste of what a king can do for you.”

“Yes, baby!” she keened as he picked up the pace and dropped his weight on her.

“You know this pussy is mine, now, right? He can use it if you want him to, but this shit belongs to me. You’re fucking mine, Xoliswa.”

“T’Challa-”

“Mmmhm, say my name, babygirl. Tell them who owns this tight little pussy,” he punctuated those last three words with thrusts so deep she swore she could feel it in her ribs. “Who owns you?”

“T’Challaaaa!”

His eyes rolled back in his head at hearing his name fall from her lips. Her voice was shaky and hoarse, but she screamed his name over and over again as his hips pounded into hers, the curve of his dick angling just right to keep her creaming all over him.

“Fuck, baby, here it comes. You ready?”

Xoliswa looked him dead in the eye and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Cum in your pussy, Black Panther.”

He hadn’t expected her to call him that, but it lit something within him, and he came harder than he ever had before. He bit into her neck as he spasmed inside her, pumping her full of his essence. She came from the feeling of him releasing so much and putting it right where it belonged. Their bodies fed off each other, and when one would spasm, it would trigger the other to cum. T’Challa peppered sweet kisses all over Xoliswa’s face and spoke to her in hushed tones, “Thank you, babygirl.”

Xoliswa couldn’t speak; she could only moan incoherently. Minutes passed before their bodies began to tire of the constant state of arousal, and they slowly pulled apart. She whimpered as she felt their fluids escape her and drip slowly down her crack, and he could only watch in awe. He had never produced so much, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Xoliswa or his heat or a combination of both. Whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.

“Call Abdul. Tell him you have to work tonight,” he rasped, making a devilish smile appear on her face. She knew she was in for the night of her life, and just the thought of what was to come had her playing with her overstimulated clit. He swatted her hand away and replaced it with his own. “Call him. Now. Make sure your camera is off.”

T’Challa kissed from her neck down to her chocolate nipples and took a bite, making her yip at the sensation. “Be quiet, or he’ll catch you. You don’t want that, do you?”

“N-no, my king,” she stuttered out as she pressed Abdul’s contact card and called him.

“What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Or are you slacking off with T’Challa again,” he joked, and Xoliswa locked eyes with a smug T’Challa as his tongue swirled around her nipple.

“N-no, I’m at work,” she struggled to speak as T’Challa trailed his tongue down her body and suctioned his lips around her clit. She snapped her legs shut around his head, making him pry them open with a menacing growl.

“What was that?” Abdul asked.

“What was what?” Xoliswa chuckled nervously.

“I thought I heard something. Anyways, what’s up, sweetie?”

“I, uh-” she stopped herself and muted the call for a moment to let out a moan from the pits of her soul as T’Challa showed no mercy on her. His tongue masterfully maneuvered around her clit like he designed it himself, and the three slender fingers curling inside her coaxed another orgasm out of her.

“Take him off mute right fucking now,” T’Challa ordered with a mouth full of pussy.

“Hello? Xo?”

She scrambled to unmute the call and calm her breathing down as the king nibbled on her labia and sped his fingers up inside her.

“I’m here, baby. I-have-to-work-late-so-I’m-staying-at-the-palace-tonight!”

“Wait, slow down. I can barely understand you. Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” she giggled as T’Challa nibbled on her inner thighs. “I’m staying here tonight.”

“Oh, no problem. Don’t let T’Challa work you too hard, ok?”

“I won’t!” she squeaked.

“Good. You get back to work, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tell him you love him,” T’Challa whispered against her pussy lips, and Xoliswa couldn’t help but oblige.

“Abdul?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“I-I love you.”

“I love you too, Xo. Call me when you get off,” he blew her a kiss through the phone, and she hung up right as T’Challa started chuckling.

“You almost got us caught!” she fussed.

“You liked it. Don’t lie.”

Xoliswa bit her lip to hide her smile, but it didn’t work.

“Maybe a little.”

“Mmmhm. Nasty slut, letting me use you like this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Xoliswa’s pussy jumped, and T’Challa couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Maybe you should teach me a lesson,” Xoliswa moaned as she ground her hips on his fingers, and his dick hardened right back up. “Or punish me.”

“Fuck, Xo, where have you been all my life?” he groaned and pulled his fingers from her, lining the head of his dick up with her entrance.

“Married...to my husband,” Xoliswa teased. T’Challa’s nostrils flared, and she knew it was on.

She wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @dersha89

[scorpiobitch95]

Summary: You try convince Walter to love your favorite snack throughout your years together. The best dates are shared over cereal, after all.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: sugary sweet fluff, implied smut — nothing graphic, snarkiness, grumpy Walter to fluffy Walter, cursing, cuteness overload.

Author's Note: I let myself get carried away with this one. I needed grumpy but sweet Walter in my life. I hope you enjoy!

Edited by myself, sorry not sorry for the errors.

Taglist: @justaboringadult @greensleeves888 @cavillsharman @beck07990 @summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @kebabgirl67

Taglist for this fic: @lumiousmoon

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!

It started when you and Walter were early dating.

💋

“Mmmm, pause. I need a snack.” Uncurling yourself from Walter’s warm body on the couch, you made your way to the kitchen to find something to cure your hunger. You called behind you, “Want anything, Marsh?”

“Whatever you’re having... I’ll have the same.”

“Cereal it is!” You pulled the ceramic bowls from the cabinet and opened the fridge to grab the milk. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Walter’s face scrunch in confusion. “What?”

“Cereal? Absolutely not,” Walter scoffed. “Would you grab me those spicy crisps?”

“Spicy chips, coming right up.” Vernacular was the subject of an ongoing heated debate with the Brit: the great ‘Names for Snacks Debate’ was especially hostile.

Once settled back under the blanket and snuggled into his side once more, you unpaused the movie. The energy in the room shifted, you could sense that you were being watched, but you refused to look up to look at Walter’s face. The judgment coming from the bear of a man who crunched his chips beside you was glaring.

"Stop it," you told him as you kept your eyes on the movie.

Walter didn’t say a word. His eyes traveled back to the TV but kept finding their way back to you.

“Walt, what is it? Is there something on my face?” You giggled at him lightly, unsure of what was bothering him.

“You really chose that for a snack?” His face was bewildered as if you were eating a bowl of Jeep parts.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t eat cereal as a snack.” He shook his head curtly, wearing a look of disgust. Your eyebrows crinkled together as you followed by asking, “Not even as a quick dinner?”

“Cereal is meant for one time and one place, and that’s sometimes in the mornings for breakfast. That's why they call it breakfast cereal, love. Not dinner cereal, not snack cereal... Do you also eat cereal for lunch?” He was poking fun at you now.

“No, I’m not a heathen, Walter. Here, try a bite, just trust me. It’s amazing as a movie snack.”

His eyes were wide as a grimace was sent in your direction, “You’re crazy — no one does that.”

“Plenty of people do that,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“I’m really not the biggest fan…” Walter sighed and settled further into the couch, preparing for your exasperation that he knew was soon to follow.

“WHAT. Not the biggest fan of cereal? I’m sorry, you were sheltered as a child, weren’t you? There's cereal out there for everyone, Walt. Come on, try it.” You scooped a spoonful of your sugary Cinnamon Toast Crunch and held it to him. He reluctantly obliged your wishes, eating the bite but keeping a look of pain on his face for the entire time he chewed.

"See? Delicious. Ice-cold, crunchy, sweet, perfect." A sugary grin accompanied your playful tone, and Walter shook his head again, exaggerating his distaste for having to chew such an atrocity.

"Mhm. Definitely delicious." Your goofy bear was simmering under the surface of his scouring demeanor, though he stuck his tongue out in mock disgust.

"You're not the biggest fan," you muttered under your breath and rolled your eyes for dramatic effect. "I'll show you."

💋

Standing in the grocery store, you and Walter were having a battle of wits, arguing on the subject of your sweet tooth.

“I’m just trying to show concern for your dental health since you obviously won’t; all that sugar isn’t good for you.” Walter stood stern with his arms crossed, unmoving and solid like a brick wall.

“I appreciate your worry, Dad, but I’m going to keep eating it because I love it. One day, I bet I’ll convince you and you’ll be eating it with me. Plus, my dental health is immaculate, my dentist said so.”

The expression on Walter's face was unwavering as his eyebrows raised in a non-verbal challenge to your declaration.

“I don’t know how you can stand to eat that crap,” he muttered, thinking you couldn’t hear him.

“Oh no, don’t you dare, you grump! I don’t get on you about your snacks, back off mine. ” Despite his unnecessary grouchiness, you placed a hand on his crossed arms and raised up on your toes to give him a soft kiss on his bearded face. “Balance, babe. It’s all about balance.” You dug your way through his arms to find his hands and you drug him a little further down the cereal aisle.

“Come on, grumbly, pick out a cereal you think you might enjoy, for experiment’s sake.”

💋

“Fuck, babe. I’m going to be late, we just got called out on another accident. I am so sorry… I’m not sure when I’ll be home.” Walter had been working a ton lately, and his irritation with just how much he’d been working was starting to show. The two of you had been together for a few months now and had started to grow accustomed to having the other around consistently. You both became out of sorts when you hadn’t seen each other in a while.

“Don’t even worry about it, Walter. Just be careful, please... You should still come over when you’re finished tonight, but no pressure if you’re exhausted.”

“Of course, still need to kiss you goodnight. I can’t sleep if I haven’t.”

Walter Marshall might be a grump, but that grump could make your heart flutter in ways that you’d never felt before. Maybe it was that his sweetness and his charms were completely reserved for you and you alone. His teddy bear nature only appeared when he was near you.  After putting back the ingredients for dinner to save for another night, you went to change into your sweats.

Walter appeared at your front door at 12:30 that night, nearly asleep but still standing strong. You’d dozed off on the couch after his call, but were immediately energized again when you saw his beautiful form standing in your doorway.

“Hello, I’m here to have a very late night date with an incredibly beautiful woman,” Walter said, the gravel in his voice making you shiver. Despite his exhaustion, Walter managed to smile at you with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him manage.

You smirked, waving him inside. “Get in here, Bear.”

Walter reached his arms out to you, inviting you into his embrace. Your arms wrapped around his thick torso and you ran your hands up and down his sweater-clad back; he melted into you and burrowed his face into your neck. Walter released an exhaustive exhale. It was heavy and forceful, as though he’d been holding it back behind a stone barricade for the entirety of his day. Warmth flooded your body as his words vibrated from his chest, “Mmm... I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Let’s get you fed. Preferences?”

Still snuggled in your neck, he gave his reply, “Nothing heavy, please. I don’t want to fall asleep at the table. That wouldn’t make for a good date.”

“Oh Walter, we can postpone date night, you need to eat something and get to bed. It’s nearly one,” you observed gently as you leaned your head back to get a better look at his face.

“No. I came here to have a date night. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I need you.” Walter’s warm lips caressed your forehead, placing soft kisses on you. “You think you’re still up for it?”

Nodding at him sweetly, you untangled from his embrace and went to tumble through the fridge, offering out suggestions for food, but he insisted, yet again, that you don’t go to any trouble.

“Okay… you’re going to hate it, but my last option is cereal. Other than that, it’s gonna be random leftovers.” You continued moving containers around in the fridge, taking stock of what you had left from the week before.

“Actually, I think I can handle some cereal.” You whipped your head around incredulously to look and heckle him, but he gruffly interrupted, pointing a finger at you from where he sat at your kitchen table. "Don't. Don't start. It's been a brutal day, and something cold doesn't sound half bad."

You smirked in silence as you turned back and poured your bowls, dancing your hips lightly side to side. Grabbing the candles you had left out for your dinner date, you lit them and placed them gently on the table between the two of you. It was date night, after all.

“Late night cereal date, it is.” Reaching down to caress his chin, you kissed one bearded cheek before sitting beside him. Walter’s lips held a slight curl, softly smiling at your glee.

💋

“Love, snack break?”

The two of you were engaged in an intense game of Scrabble, one of your favorite date-night-in traditions. Nodding your head in Walter’s direction, you continued to study your letters and the board with pure focus until you heard the twinkling sound of cereal hitting ceramic.

Not wanting to draw too much attention, you peeked up from your letter rack to make sure your ears weren’t deceiving you. Walter was not just making a bowl for you, but he was also making one for himself.

No way.

Walter made his way back to the table with the cereal, and you looked up at him in shock as though you hadn’t already noticed what he’d done.

“What is this? What is this I see? Walter Marshall choosing breakfast cereal as a snack? Why, I just cannot believe it.” Mock-surprise overtook your form as you motioned fake mind-blowing explosions from your head. Walter rolled his eyes.

“I figured If I can learn to like you, I can learn to like cereal.”

“HEY.”

Walter shrugged, retaking his seat at the table.

You squinted your eyes at him as you declared, “You’re going down for that. And I don’t just mean by losing this game.” A wicked grin crossed your face when you played your double score word:

“CHEERIO”

💋

Walter worked a lot of graveyard shifts while you were dating and during your early years of marriage while you worked a normal 8-5. Sometimes the only moments that you could see each other were when he came home from his shift early in the mornings before you started your day or in the evenings when you got home before he left to start his.

One early morning during your engagement, Walt showed up unannounced after a hard few nights at the PD. He was worn down but happy to see you, smiling through his exhaustion. This was the longest you’d been apart in a while; you hadn't seen each other in 4 days. You kissed him, lips attacking his while his arms snaked around you and pulled you tightly to his body. He hadn’t even come into the house yet.

Pulling him inside, your hands reached up to hold his scruffy face as you placed a more gentle kiss on his lips. “Babe, have you had dinner? Let’s get you something to eat… what would you like?”

He unfastened his holster, dropping it on the table by the door. Sinking into a chair, Walter bent over to untie his boots as he answered, “Honestly, anything is fine, just some kind of food.”

“I can cook you something! Why don’t you let me —“

“Sweet, don’t go to any trouble. I just want to see you before you go to work.”

He looked at the table where you had just sat down to a bowl of cereal for a quick breakfast before he arrived and pointed lazily to it. “That, I’ll take some,” he said, sleep trying to overtake his form.

Slowly grinning at his statement, you mentioned, "Isn't this technically your dinner time?" Walter wasn’t amused as he tilted his head to look at you as you gasped playfully, “You do realize you're about to eat cereal for dinner, right, Marsh?" Too sleepy to give his verbal rebuttal, he glared at you, the corners of his lips turning up slightly, which was your signal to accept your victory and move on.

Smiling softly back at him, you made your way to pour him a big bowl and made him a cup of piping hot tea to accompany it. Watching his face as he ate, you observed the little creases and purple-gray rings that had formed around his deep ocean-blue eyes. His beard was unkempt and had grown past its normal length just in the few days you’d been apart; you could see this was a new level of exhaustion.

“Tough night?” You asked him, moving your chair closer to him.

He nodded. “Very.” The nights were becoming more strenuous recently. Ever since he had switched to the detective unit, work had been holding him hostage and was taking a toll more than he’d like to admit.

His hand reached over to squeeze the free one lying on your lap. “I’m happy to see you, love.” The hard lines on his face softened as he traced lazy circles on the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. You could see in his eyes that he meant it, that you were his safe space. Walter always was in protection mode, always on alert, even though you tried to keep him at ease when he was with you. He was only really ever at ease once he was home and you were safe in his arms.

The food began to rouse him from sleepiness, and as he gained alertness, Walter’s brow furrowed as he took notice of the cereal box sitting on the dining table. “This is the one we’re eating? I expected you to be eating more of one of those tooth-rotting cereals that you love so much.” He looked over at the box of Honey Bunches of Oats with curiosity and then back at you, lifting what you called his ‘detective eyebrow.’

“This is… surprisingly somewhat better for you? Or at least it acts like it is.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad. I only let you believe that I am. It is my breakfast time after all,” you winked at him knowingly.

“Good to know my words are finally starting to sink in. I mean, it’s not that much better for you,” he was reading the box now, “but at least it isn’t borderline fluorescent, like those artificial fruity ones you’re always eating.”

“You know, it’s almost like I expect the hate and just enact my deflection shield every time you walk in the door.” You started giggling, unable to keep a straight face as you threw your arms in front of your face as a shield to his words. “Don’t worry, Walt, my guilty pleasure cereal collection is well-stocked. And quit hating on my Fruity Pebbles.”

💋

Slowly over time, these seemingly random cereal dates became a large foundation for quality time. These dates became like snapshots, each one memorable in its own way.

When you two hadn’t seen each other in days, you caught up over a cold bowl of sugary sweetness. You, telling all the details of your days; him, quietly listening and trying his best to leave his nights behind.

From then on, all it took was knowing you could have a cereal date mixed in the chaos of everyday life. Anytime things got hard or heavy, it was time to have a cereal date. Anytime you had a fight: you both would pause and make a bowl of cereal, sitting across the table from each other so that you could speak your feelings. There weren’t many of the world’s problems, or your own, that couldn’t be solved over sugary cereal and cold milk.

💋

You’d dragged Walter to your shared bed as soon as he’d arrived home, having not seen him for more than a few minutes at a time for the past month. This current case of his was intense and ongoing, but he was finally finished. You knew he was defeated in energy, but you were ovulating and your hormones were raging. Your body craved his touch and the feel of his skin gliding upon your own.

The plan was to go to dinner for a romantic evening since it had been a long while since that had been possible, but as soon as he walked through the door, your feral sexuality washed over you and you jumped into his arms. You clung to him with your face in his neck, taking in his scent and the warmth of his strong arms holding you up. He clung to you just as tightly. There was no complaint from the bear, for he was more than happy to spend the evening spoiling his lover.

Cuddling in the afterglow of your countless orgasms, a storm raged outside as tree limbs slapped at your windows incessantly.

“Wow, it sounds awful out there. I know we were going out, but I think that point is moot now.” You glanced up at Walter, kissing his jaw. “Let’s just cook something easy instead.”

“That sounds great, and we can stay naked.” Walt’s eyebrows danced flirtatiously as he grinned down at you, his hands caressing your warm skin. “I’ll go hunt around so I can keep my woman energized for the night ahead. We are nowhere near done.”

He’d only been gone a minute when a crack of thunder shook the house and the lights went dark. You heard his mumbling coming from the kitchen; he had called in to get a status update from the energy company.

Walking back into the bedroom, Walter, in his naked glory, walked over to where you laid, illuminated only by the candle he held in his hand. Wow, your husband was delicious.

"Power’s out for the whole city. It’ll take hours since this storm doesn’t have an end in sight. Looks like a hot dinner is off the table… and no one will deliver in this weather. I guess we know what’s for dinner." Setting the candle on the nightstand, he crawled back into bed.

Feeling seductive, despite being completely spent from your ravenous love-making mere minutes beforehand, you still hadn’t had your fill of your husband. You bit your lip as you ran your eyes up and down his exquisite body and cheekily replied, “Me, I hope.”

He chuckled lowly, the fangs in his pearly-white smile glinting at you in the candlelight. “You? Yes. I plan to feast on you all night long, kitten. But you’re going to need some sustenance first.” He was hovering over you. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached to run your fingers along his hairy chest and wrapped a leg around his hip, pulling him closer to you.

"Make it a cereal date?" You grinned at him.

“You read my mind.”

💋

“Our child is going to come out looking like the Lucky Charms Leprechaun if you don’t change it up some, love.”

Your cravings were intense. You’d heard several different views from your girlfriends and sisters: some craved random things they never even liked before, and some craved more of the things that they already loved and ate religiously before pregnancy. You fell into the latter. Cereal was your most sought-after snack: a big surprise to no one.

There weren’t many cliche late-night ice cream runs, but there were plenty of cereal and milk runs. Walter was a dutiful dad already, not lecturing you too often on what you wanted; he knew you were doing what you had to for the baby, and you ate healthily enough… aside from the copious amounts of junk cereal.

True to numerous other times in your life, date nights were hard to come by, even still. Sometimes the only dates you and Walter would get were in the wee hours of the morning when you’d wake up with a craving.

Walter was extremely doting, and even though he’d always been a caretaker, he really came into his own when you both learned you were to become parents. He’d crawl from the bed without a word, rummaging in the kitchen to bring you a bowl of your favorite and even bringing a small one for himself. You two would snuggle in the bed and talk. Talk about your baby, about future babies, about the future, about your dreams, all of it. You never knew when you met the grumpy bear that he would become this sweet of a man, always tender with you even when he was rough. Maybe it was the cereal sugar that had sweetened him up, at least you’d like to think so.

💋

Your daughter had been in the world for a little over three weeks, and neither you nor Walter had gotten much sleep since her arrival.

Walter finally got her down to sleep while you watched from the nursery doorway. You hadn’t had a meal together or slept at the same time for more than 10 minutes in weeks.

He was standing over her crib, resting his arms on the side as he watched her sleep. He was infatuated with this tiny human who had completely taken hold of his heart.

“Honey, join me for a date?” Your smile was tired, and as your bear’s exhausted eyes met yours, you wondered if you two shouldn’t just go to bed, but you missed him. You’d barely gotten the chance to praise him for how good of a daddy he was to your little girl.

“Mhm, gladly. Our usual?” He quietly followed you to the living room, where the coffee table had already been set up with the works. Craving the feel of his touch on your skin, you both sat on the couch and you laid your legs across his lap while you enjoyed the serenity of each other’s company.

💋

A chill glided across your skin as you awoke from a dream. You rolled over, reaching your arms out to find your sturdy man, searching for his warmth. Instead, you found cold bedsheets.

Unlike Walter to not be in bed with a furry arm draped over you, you pulled on your robe and went to find him, a slight worry filling your mind.

Surely he would have woken me if he’d had to go in?

As you stepped into the hallway, you heard hushed giggles and whispers coming from the kitchen. You stopped to poke your head into your kids’ rooms. Their beds were empty.

At least it’s Saturday.

Quietly pitter-pattering to your kitchen, you peered your head around the corner to find one of the sweetest sights your eyes had ever seen: your two babes, 8 and 5, were playing a princess board game at the table with your Bear. Cereal by their side, giggles ensued as the sugar hit their systems and they tried their best to keep quiet.

Walter’s deep whisper quietly filled the space. “Shh, girls. We can’t wake Mum, she needs her rest.”

“Can I have more Cap’n Crunch, Daddy?” Your youngest had an insatiable sweet tooth, just like her mama. She was quietly bouncing in her chair and smiling a toothy grin at her daddy.

“You’re just like your mum,” Walter beamed at her, obliging her wishes. “Just a little more, love, then we need to brush our teeth and get back to sleep.”

Not wanting the girls to know that you knew about their secret, you decided to make your way back to bed, but not before catching your husband’s eye as he winked at you and a grin radiated from his face.

Warm tingles filled your body as you silently thanked the universe for Walter and the life that the two of you had built together. Walter was the best dad and husband in the world. How had you gotten so lucky?

💋

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Golden Grahams, love?” Walter called to you from the kitchen.

The movie was selected, the kids were away for the evening sleeping at friend’s houses, and you and Walter were having a much-deserved night in.

You called back to him, “I’m thinking I’m going to skip the cereal? I’m not really feeling it tonight. I will, however, eat the spicy chips. Oh, and grab that dip out of the fridge, will ya?”

“For the last time, they are crisps.” Annoyance was evident by his tone.

“They’re chips, Walter. You’ve lived in the states for how long now? Just give it up already.”

“No fucking way. Wait… You don’t want cereal? Are you feeling alright?” Walter’s head popped into the doorway that connected the kitchen to the living room, his face stern with confusion and concern.

“Ehh, not right now. Yes, I’m fine, Marsh,” you giggled. “Just feeling like something different for once.”

“Well, that’s shocking. I’m just wondering if you’re really my wife.” Giggles continued to flow out of you as he wandered back to where you were seated. He handed you your snack, and plopped on the couch next to you, cuddling into you as you tossed a blanket over both of your bodies. Walter started the movie and began to chow down on the bowl of cereal he’d made for himself. You couldn’t control the smirk that spread across your lips as you watched him out of the corner of your eye.

“What?” he asked, his mouth full of the golden and cinnamon squares. His eyes met yours, questioning you.

“I would just like to point out that I knew I could convince you.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, not sure what you meant. “Convince me of what?”

“That cereal is the best movie snack.”

“I don’t know if I’d say it’s the best…”

“Walt, I’m sitting here with your previous favorite movie snack in my hands, and you totally skipped over it and went for cereal. I’m just saying, I told you so. It’s okay, I’ve known I was right all along, you don’t have to admit it.”

“Hmm.” He growled, mouth full again as he ignored your statement.

“Give me a bite!” You pressed closer to him, reaching for his spoon as he angled his body and cereal away from you.

“Oh no, nice try. You tease, you don’t get any.”

“Fine, grumpy, I’ll go make my own. Keep watching, I’ll be back.”

Shuffling to the kitchen, you proceeded to grab a bowl and make your own, but you found both cereal boxes empty on the counter. Quickly turning to check your special cereal cabinet for a backup box, you discovered you were completely out.

“WALTER! Are you fucking kidding me? We just bought those!” Standing with your arms crossed in the doorway, you glared at Walt as he stared back at you unfazed.

“I hate to break up your gloating, but you created this monster, love. And don’t forget about our two other little monsters who take after you.” His grin was cocky; he knew he’d bested you. Laser beams could have been shooting from your eyes for all you knew. You shook your head in disbelief at the audacity of your husband.

That bastard. That beautiful bastard.

Walter smiled softly at you and motioned for you to rejoin him on the couch. Much to your dismay, your anger at him diffused immediately. “Love, I’ll go buy more first thing in the morning. Here, come and share mine. I’ll be nice… it is date night, after all.”

* I do not own Walter Marshall, Nomis, Night Hunter, or anything related to it.

[catzula]

So, you chose the indigo tent?

Welcome to Shinsou's route on something wicked this way comes. I hope you enjoy.

a/n: so, here goes nothing. I'm really excited for this and I really hope you like it! Leave me a like, a reblog or a comment if you enjoyed it 😗

a big thank you to @qawaii for beta reading because you are the only person I can send this to beta and not die of embarrassment. Also thank you love for always motivating me and hyping me I love you muah.

Warnings: NSFW! Minors do not interact! Smut. 7.4k of pwp. Degrading, blow job, orgasm denial (once), hair pulling, slight choking, calling good girl, enemies to lovers kinda vibe, idk what else

Everyone has their low points of life. This night must be yours, you think.

You're tired- exhausted and on the brink of possibly passing out, even; hungry, frustrated, cold, and shivering, and everything seems to be going wrong.

Standing on the hill before the tents, you try to focus on why you're here. Never to feel like this again, of course, but it's hard to push yourself to take one more step at this point.

You have to find Aizawa; you repeat yourself. Find him, convince him to take you in so you won't ever feel this hopeless, so you won't ever think if you can survive sleeping in a night as cold as this. You can't go back, won't go back to that place you once called home. You're determined to find a new home or never belong anywhere again.

There is a dull pain on your fingers, feeling like they're frozen and burning. You know you gave to find somewhere warm to at least wear the exhaustion off of you, regain movement in your fingers and feel like you won't pass out any second.

You'd rather sleep, but you're more than aware how dangerous that could be, so you'd have to yield to a stop break, instead. As the thought seeps into your mind, your brain doesn't even give you the chance to rethink; quick to come up with more reasons for why you should rest first, then find Aizawa.

It's the sweet hope of finding warmth that pulls you closer to the tents. You know it's mad to even think of going in any of them, straight into the territory of people that are freaks, people with quirks that makes you an easy bait for them to kill.

But exhaustion has that kind of an effect on people, and even the worst ideas seem bright at the time, mind foggy, unable to give you a reasonable answer when you ask yourself what's the worst that could happen.

You won't be staying for long, anyway, if anyone finds you, you'll flee- you're smart, not so strong but quick, you can run, right?

Your eyes scan the tents to see which one you can go in and out of without being noticed, and you're quick to eliminate the red and black ones.

The red tent has torches all over, so there's no way you can try and sneak in. And the black tent- well, you don't have a good feeling about it.

The tent closest to you has heavy-looking, dark blue curtains, but when you look closer, you can see the light coming from there, too. Your body getting heavier and heavier by the second, and you're pouting as your eyes fall on the indigo, purple tent. A few careful steps taken closer, you confirm there isn't light coming from inside.

As you come even closer, so close that the heavy, velvet-like material of the tent brushes your naked arms, making goosebumps run down your body. You wait for a few seconds for a sound, anything that indicates there is someone there, but after a few minutes of waiting, you conclude there isn't.

You're reluctant but quick to slip through the curtains, staying close to the exit so you can flee without having to face anyone.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to adjust in the darker room, and you're careful as you scan the room step by step.

It's not massive, but the area still seems bigger than any tent you've seen. It's almost twice your room- your old room.

Head pounding with exhaustion creeping in, you find a hiding place behind a cupboard in the corner. Your body acts before you, slipping in the small opening with ease. It's an advantageous hiding place , giving you the chance to spy on the entrance without blatantly sticking out.

As you wait for someone to come in, for something to happen in this dead of the night, your body starts feeling the signs of exhaustion even worse than before, with finding a warm place and somewhere to sit, adrenaline slowly leaving your body.

And before you know it, you're asleep.

~

You only after realize that you hadn't thought this through.

You wake up by the dim, reflected light of a candle- you're lucky you're a light sleeper, or you wouldn't have woken up to someone entering the tent.

The silhouette of a man dances on the floor, crouching down as he holds the candle in one hand and busies the other with the pile of clothes. Not sure when he entered the tent, it seems he's not yet aware of your presence, and you know you have to get out before he does.

Noticing his back is turned to you, you finally gather the courage to peep your head from where you sit. A purple head of hair is what you first notice, his ltousled ocks sticking in every direction as if he faced a thunderstorm.

He's reaching towards the pile of clothes, eyes half open as a look of exhaustion challenging yours lingers on his face.

As you stretch your head a little more from the corner you're hiding in, you finally see something hiding between the pile of clothes. It's a cat, you realize. The man's hand runs over the black fur; it makes the cat close his eyes and lean to the touch as he continues to pat its head, scratching under its ears.

You're not aware how intensely you're watching him, wide eyes following his movements, how his odd hair color catches the dim candlelight on itself, soft shadows dancing on the sharp, handsome features of his face.

You know you have to run, get out of here before he notices you, but it's like you're in a faze, curiosity boiling in your body.

It's a scene to behold, the pair of a mad-looking man and a black cat relishing in each others' presence as you gasp and retract back when the cat suddenly opens its eyes, golden gaze looking directly at you.

Your heart drumming in your ears as you sink more into the corner you're in, you miss how the candle he's holding flickers and the way his head tilts your way so slightly.

For a few minutes, nothing happens. You're too afraid to breathe, let alone reach back out to see what the man's doing. It's silent other than your booming heart, and despite knowing you have to get out of there- now, you can't do anything but wait.

"Aren't you cold?" The voice breaks the silence in the tent, a deep grumble that turns your stomach upside down. You think you recognize it; you've heard it earlier today, quickly depicting who he is; the man with the black, beak-like mask who was doing the hypnosis tricks.

"Does anyone want to volunteer for this trick?" He had asked many times that night. "If yes, cheer for me so I can see who does."

It's an automatic response; to cheer with the whistling and clapping crowd, and you hadn't noticed the self-satisfied smile he hid behind the mask at getting a reply from everyone watching him.

"I'm talking to the cat, not to the person hiding behind the cupboard, by the way." The man speaks again, a sarcastic comment that comes out of his lips so indifferently, and it shows how unfazed he is even by having another presence hiding in his tent.

Even the thought of it is chilling, but you don't give yourself the time to ponder about it, now that your cover is blown, leaping towards the exit. You're fast and agile, and Shinsou thinks you would've escaped if you were in the presence of anyone else.

But you aren't, and you soon come to realize that as well.

As you push the velvet curtains and the cold air hits your face, you're sure you've escaped since the man hasn't moved from where he stood. Still, not taking a second more, you're about to disappear into the night.

But instead of running after you, you hear him speak.

"Stop," It's a simple command that would've made you scoff any other time. Does this man really think you would-

stop.

Just in the border of the night and the tent, you suddenly lose the ability to control your body.

You freeze, despite your mind screaming at you to get out of there; you're not able to move an inch as you watch the man as he walks towards you, painfully slow, too.

As he stops before you, you're forced to realize just how bigger he is than you. Crazy locks of hair defy gravity, looking deep blue instead of the purple you had seen in his show.

He looks mean as he stands before you, eyes locked on you. Dangerous, even.

Stuck in a body you can't charge, you have to wait as his eyes scan you with a frown on his lips, the only emotion available on his face being a silent surprise and tiredness. Even with the situation you're in, you can't help but notice he's even more handsome up close. Secretly admiring his dark indigo eyes looking at you with suspicion, the circles under his eyes giving him an even more stern look, lips pressed into a line, high cheekbones shadowing his cheeks.

"Speak." He commands once again, and you fear if you had control of your body, you might've shivered at his tone.

"Wh-what did you do to me?!" It's your first reaction to regaining control; it makes the purple-haired man scoff. He leans a little closer to you, the ends of his locks close to grazing your face, but not quite, inspecting you with a scorning look and a mean frown. He's the source of the tinge of lavender smell in the room, you realize. That and something a little more... musky.

Despite having the control to speak, you're silent as he judges you, and you swear the corner of his lips quirk at that, too. "You were at the show today, weren't you? I think you can guess what's happening."

"You- you hypnotized me!" You shout, terrified. When he hears the accusing tone of your voice, the man quirks a brow at you.

"You broke into my tent." He mocks you with a smile, looking you up and down. "Aren't you cold?" He repeats. "Come in."

Your body obeys the commend, following the man back into the tent you just escaped, your body once again meeting the lavender-tinted warm air. You stand in the middle of the room as you watch him plop himself on a seat, legs wide open, almost invitingly so, his lips curved into a smile as his gaze keeps wandering on you.

You're unable to help it when your gaze starts shifting on his form, too, especially with the way he's looking at you now; you're not sure if it's the harsh shadows on his face that makes him look so irresistible, with that knowing smirk when he catches your eyes flicking lower than they should. When he quirks a brow at you, with eyes that almost tell you; I know what you're thinking, it suddenly feels a little too warm.

A hum vibrates in the air before he speaks again. "Tell me, pretty girl," he says, "why were you in my tent?"

As soon as you hear the command, you brace yourself to blurt out the whole truth, but- you don't. Questioning eyes finding him; he shrugs. "I'm not going to force it out of you."

He looks so smug with the way he says it, too, making you scoff with narrowed eyes. "Oh, how generous of you."

He ignores the mocking tone of your voice, the only indication he even heard them being the slight tilt of his lips. "If I knew you wouldn't flee the moment I let you go, too, you wouldn't be in this situation, either."

"Is that so?" You mutter, seemingly disinterested. "I will, though."

Your words seem to amuse him, the way you resist him, despite being entirely under his mercy, acting like he has no power over you.

So he smiles; it's deceptive, dark, exciting. It makes the air shift into something new; something that feels thicker, hotter, lustful.

He seems indifferent, however, and you hope he's blind to how your body reacts, as well, to when he sighs, hands running through his tangled, odd-colored locks.

"Why are you still keeping me here, anyway?" You blurt out, wanting to get out of here before you do something... mad.

"I'm curious." He answers the question, a smile resting on his plush lips as he shrugs. "Why were you in my tent?"

Eye for an eye, you think as he counters you with his question. He had answered yours, and it was only fair if you did the same. "I was cold," you tell him, staying as vague as possible. "Your tent seemed warm."

"That's it?" His brows arch up. "The rest isn't any of your business."

"I'm curious."

"I don't even know your name!" You huff angrily. "All I know is you're a guy who works in a circus with powers that leave me a puppet in your hands. I'm not here to entertain you."

As you blurt the last sentence, you don't miss his dark chuckle at it. "We'll see about that," he mutters, but before giving you the chance to speak, he speaks again. "My name's Shinsou. Feeling better?"

"Much." You mock him with an exaggerated smile, voice hostile. "Now will you let me go?"

"Why would I?" He laughs. "You still haven't answered my questions, and haven't you heard it's only courtesy to tell your own name when someone tells you theirs?"

"And haven't you heard it's being a basic human fucking being not to keep people under your influence like this?"

A beat of silence passes as he ponders on an answer and fails, and both of you know he lost this round. "Kitty's got claws, I see." He swipes his tongue on his bottom lip, amusedly watching your reaction at the pet name. You sneer at him- but Shinsou's a little too interested in this to miss the way you shift in your place, your quickening breaths, the flutter of your eyes.

"Don't call me that."

"Why? Got you excited?" Shinsou quirks a brow when you squeak angrily. "You won't even tell me your name."

You would've rolled your eyes if you could, instead just sighing at the purple-haired man. "It's Y/N." You answer. "My Name's Y/N."

It's been a while since Shinsou had this much fun; he missed this game of cat and mouse.

"Very well then, Y/N," he repeats your name as suggestive as possible, "would you answer my question? I can force the answer out of you, you know." He looks amused as he leans forward in his chair, suddenly much more interested in what you say, how you move. Like a predator watching its prey. "All it takes is a command."

Each word makes its way out of his lips so smoothly- you shiver at the way he speaks them. And you're disappointed when you realize not with fear.

It was a lost game the moment you even felt a tinge of lust towards the man, but you doubt there is anyone who can resist his charm. Still, you refuse to play into his hand, choosing to fight submitting to him just like that.

"With your witchcraft or whatever it is, yes." You shoot back, "but you can never control me without it." You feel needles of excitement run over your skin.

"Hm?" He quirks a brow, a feline cat on his lips, making you shiver with the lust settling on his gaze. Your eyes follow the movement of his adam's apple when he gulps. "You think I can't make you do as I say without my powers?" His voice drops an octave, and it almost makes you gasp.

"I know you can't." You sneer. "I would never let you."

"Big words from a little girl. Are you challenging me?"

"And what if I am?"

"Well," Shinsou slides his tongue over his lip, your gaze follows the movement. "you'll have to prove it to me."

As he speaks the words, the heaviness that had consumed your body disappears, as well. Your eyes shoot up- only meeting his mocking indigo gaze. You don't need him to tell you what to do, as one glance is enough for you to see how his pants seem a little strained over his crotch, a print making itself visible.

"What?" He asks, a grin resting on his lips as you stay still. His voice is deep, a guttural, almost tired tone that has you shivering with each way he speaks his words. "All bark, no bite? I thought you were up for a challenge- oh." You effectively shut him up when you settle before the man in one quick motion, relishing in the way his eyes widen, a content, almost excited grin consuming his face.

"You were saying something?" You purr innocently, as if you're not kneeling between his legs, licking your lips and giving him a glance from beneath your lashes.

"Nothing," Shinsou huffs out a laugh, settling in his chair to give you better access. "Do go on."

His dick is even more prominent now, you notice, a wicked smile settling on your lips. You lift your hand to trace his cock, touch ghosting him from over the material of his pants. He's semi-hard beneath your fingers, but even then, you have to muffle a gasp at just how big he is. Unfortunately, he seems to notice the widening of your eyes and your gulp.

He leans forward to tease you, but you don't give him a chance. His eyes flutter close when your hand finally takes him in your hold. "Shit-" Shinsou curses, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as you palm him over the material of his pants, not fast nor hard enough to satisfy him but to keep him tittering on edge. "You fucking tease." He sounds out of breath, but somehow manages to open his eyes to give you a dark look.

"Can't wait to fuck it out of you."

Shinsou waits, endures your torture until you yourself can't, growing impatient to feel him in your mouth.

His chuckle sinister as he aids you while your fingers work his pants off, leaving you face to face with his now hard cock, a small patch of wetness painting his briefs a darker color.

"Look what you did to me," Shinsou heaves, forcing himself to keep his indigo eyes open and on you. "making me hard without even taking me in your mouth."

You bite your lip as your hands slip beneath his boxers, feeling him hot and pulsing under your touch for the first time. You both groan at the sensation.

As you finally push his briefs down, you first see a tuff of deep-purple hair, his cock red and angry. "Ah, fuck." He curses at the contact with the cold air, his head lolling and falling back slightly.

"If it's too much-" he breathes before you can move any further, "tap my thigh twice, or yell bandaid." He only lets you go on when you nod, making sure you understood what he said.

Without waiting any longer, you take him in your hand, and it only makes you realize he's even bigger than you originally had thought. You try to hide your doubts on if you're even going to be able to fit him in your mouth, but he realizes anyway. "What?" Shinsou mutters breathily, "scared?"

You don't answer him, leaning forward to take the sensitive tip between your mouth, instead. The bitter taste of precum has a tinge of sweetness to it, and you don't even realize you start suckling on it a bit harder to get more of the taste.

"Oh- fucking hell." He runs his hands through his hair with a loud groan, a borderline moan, when you suck particularly hard, twirling your tongue around his sensitive head. The sound makes its way straight down to your core.

Your other hand comes up to cup his balls as you let go of his angry red tip, tracing his cock to the base with kisses planted along his shaft. "Ah- fuck, fuck, fuck!" Shinsou groans when you massage his balls softly, leaving kisses on the base, your other hand pumping him slower than he wants it.

"Stop fucking teasing." He growls, voice breathy and shallow. "Or are you afraid -ah- you can't take it all?"

The smug grin he has, despite your best efforts to wipe it off has you fuming. You know he only says it to rile you up, but it works. "Shut up." You spit at the handsome man, not even missing a beat or trying to ease him in as you start pushing yourself on his length. It's pure spite, he knows it too, but it only makes it more fun for Shinsou.

You underestimated him.

You open your mouth as much as you can, jaw aching almost immediately with the pressure, but you try to discard the feeling, focused on having as much of him in your mouth.

"Ah fuck!" He groans out loudly, hips twitching, a thrust in your welcoming mouth before he can catch himself. "Good fuckin' girl," Shinsou breathes, his hand flying to your head as support, pushing you even further down. You almost miss the subtle whiny moan he lets out when you gag loudly around him. The head of his cock hitting the back of your throat as Shinsou keeps pushing you down on his cock mindlessly, your heart drums in your ears, jaw aching, breaths shallow and insufficient.

"Look at you- oh, look at you." Shinsou mutters between his ragged breaths. "Such an obedient little girl, so pretty, so eager-" his warm cock thrusts deeper in your mouth and makes you gag once again, tears that had welled in your eyes before now spilling down your cheeks. Shinsou's half-lidded gaze falls on you, face wet with drool, tears, and his precum, and you feel his cock twitch along with a groan, "-so eager to please me."

You wish- you wish you could protest, say he's wrong, that you don't care the slightest bit about how he feels, but you can't. And not because of his cock stuffing your mouth, either.

Instead, you feel the blood starting to rush downwards, straight to your pussy, making you soil your panties with how he spits out each syllable.

Shinsou's aware of this, too, how effective his words are. His head falls back, weak to the pleasure you're giving him, moaning and gagging around his length as he thrusts faster into you. The dull pain in your skull feels so good, the ache of your throat, his cock hot and heavy on your tongue-

"You're- you're getting off on this, huh?" Shinsou tightens his grip on your hair. "You like it when I call you a good girl? You like it when I use you as a fuck hole?"

You try to lie, shake your head no, but he doesn't give you a chance, no room to move your head with how tight his hold is. With one thrust exceptionally deep, Shinsou laughs almost cruelly as he speaks. "Of course, you do. You're sucking me so fucking well; it's impossible you don't."

"Good girl- good fucking girl, I bet you're soaking in your panties, too, huh? What a little slut. I thought you weren't going to give in? I thought you said I couldn't control you?"

"Fuck you." You spit out when you pull away from his cock, but he doesn't seem pleased by it. "Don't speak with your mouth full, darling." Shinsou growls, his hand cupping your jaw and forcing your eyes to meet his, fingers digging deep into the soft of your skin. "Didn't anyone teach my baby any manners? Or are you just too dumb to learn?"

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can even utter a word, his long fingers force their way through your lips; whatever you were going to say stays as a muffled moan.

"You know, from the moment I saw you all I thought about as you talked and talked and talked was how I wanted to put that big mouth of yours into good use."

In all honesty- it was all you thought about as well.

With seeing the glint in your eyes, Shinsou huffs out a laugh. "Oh, look at my pretty little slut." He forces his fingers even deeper, making you gag. "You think I don't know what you're thinking? You think I don't know how much you want my cock in your mouth? Such a whore, hiding in my tent. You did this on purpose, didn't you? Came here to get fucked like a bitch in heat by one of us freaks?"

The last words are but a haze to you since by then; he's already pushing himself back and forth past your abused lips, moaning at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth, without giving you the time to think, to breathe, to accustom. Shinsou holds a ruthless pace, gripping your head fest by the hair as he groans and moans, making you squirm under him. "Good girl- ah, fuck, such a good girl, suck my cock just like that- ah!"

"Fuck- I'm coming." You almost don't hear him, only raise your gaze to his half-lidded eyes and feel his cock twitch between your lips. "I'm coming- ah- shit, shit shit!"

Your moans get louder as his thrusts get sloppier, and you feel his whole body tremble at your voice. "I'm gonna- fuck!" Shinsou finally feels himself falling over the edge he's been dancing on, his hot cum shooting down your aching, abused throat, moaning when he notices how eagerly you swallow his cum.

His body falls limp back on the seat, chest heaving with deep, heavy breaths. There is a sheen layer of sweat covering Shinsou's body, making the muscles of his body shine under the dim candlelight.

All you hear in the quiet tent is his deep breaths, his head resting back, eyes closed, and he seems exhausted. A few minutes pass for him to pull himself together, opening his eyes to look at you, and- fuck he's hard again.

"Are you okay?" You shake your head, suppressing a smile at his now even messier-looking hair.

"Are you okay?" You ask smugly, coughing once because of the ache. "Thought you were gonna- hey!" You squeak as he jumps on his feet, and in a moment, you find yourself swept off the floor and in his arms. "I see you still have words to speak." Shinsou laughs, his face so close to yours, you feel his breath fanning against your ear, and he feels you tremble between his arms. He quirks a brow at your surprised reaction. You hadn't expected him to be able to continue, truth be told.

"What?" He continues, "I thought I made myself clear when I said I'd fuck it out of you."

You try to keep your last bit of resistance in you by speaking, "I'd like to see you try." But both of you seem aware you've already lost.

"Oh, I'm sure you do." Shinsou gives you a look before placing- throwing you on the unmade bed, eliciting a loud gasp from you. The dim candlelight hits his naked form in a way that has you rubbing your legs in anticipation. He isn't bulky but well-built and muscular, enough to toss you around with ease, enough to have your mouth watering at the thought of running your fingers over his well-defined muscles.

His gaze predatory, Shinsou looks dissatisfied eyeing you. "Strip." He orders, a knowing smile finding its way on his lips as you realize he won't use his powers but knows you'll obey his command like a good girl.

And you do, too. Maybe it's the anticipation or the uncanny glint in Shinsou's eyes that get to your head, but thoughts of defiance are thrown out of the window as you're shrugging off your clothes without giving it a second thought.

"That's it." He grins, his index finger just barely ghosting over your thigh, and he relishes how you squirm because of it. "Look how good you can be for me."

"Such a pretty girl," his hand continues circling your bare legs, getting dangerously close to where you need him the most, but never quite giving it. "My pretty girl." You feel him smile on your skin, littering it with kisses and bites as his fingers ghost over your pussy.. "A shame she has that bratty streak, though."

Shinsou clicks his tongue, suddenly pulling his hand back away, suppressing a smile at your needy whine. It's the kind of sound that's pushing him closer to ruining you by the second.

"No, no, baby, don't cry." You feel his hand cup your face, pads of his fingers tracing your face. His thumb grazes your lips, tracing the outline and pushing in, the sudden intrusion making you moan around it. "I'm here to help you with that."

Help you, he does. You feel his finger graze your clit, circling it just barely but even that slightest contact has you gasping for more after spending that long focused on him.

"Look at you," Shinsou tuts disappointedly, "just barely touched you, and you're soaking wet. Did you enjoy sucking me that much? Did you like how my dick tastes so much that it turned you on?"

"I-" you try to gather your thoughts, but he silences you by pushing one of his fingers in your pussy, his fingers long and slim, such pretty hands he has, his pale skin glistening with your wetness. "What was that?"

"P-please," you beg pathetically as all his motions still abruptly, eyes turning steal as he leans so close that you think your noses might touch. His other hand latches on your hair when your head lolls back down, his grip forcing you to keep your eyes on his indigo ones. The dull pain in your scalp goes straight to your core, and Shinsou can tell by how you clench around his finger.

"That isn't an answer to my question, Y/N." Your name rolls of his tongue so cold, so distant, you find yourself whining at it.

"Y-yes!" You exclaim, hips moving and grinding against his hand to find more friction with yet another cry, "I did- I did, so please!"

Shinsou has to admit.

Having you look at him with wide, watering eyes, face contorted in need of pleasure, your lips trembling as a form of begging- he doesn't think he can hold off much longer.

You feel so tight, even with just a finger, so warm and welcoming that he might be going crazy. Your mouth falls slack; eyes squeezed closed as you focus on the pleasure, silent other than shallow, desperate breathes.

"That's a good girl." Shinsou approves, adding a second finger and closing the gap between your faces to press a kiss on your lips as a reward.

So desperate for affection, you don't hear nor feel his amused laugh as you throw your arms around his neck when he starts to pull back after giving you but a peck, trying to hold him close, pull him into a kiss.

Shinsou shakes his head no, his fingers curling in you as he does so, your back arching off the bed. "Let's not get greedy, pretty girl. Don't worry; I'll take you there- as many times as you want. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod obediently and- fuck, Shinsou feels his dick ache with how hard he is.

"You take my fingers so well." He mutters, almost talking to himself, fascinated by how eager your pussy pulls him in. "Just listen how you gush around my fingers, how slutty your pussy is," Shinsou chuckles, the wet sound of your cunt making you cry out a whine. "Looks how wet you are, so messy, so pretty, wanna make you cum so many times-" He raises his brows when you shake your head 'no'

"Wanna-" you whine, "wanna cum on your cock."

"Please?" You add quickly, giving him the mastered doe-eyes. With the way his fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs, you know you're pushing him till he can't hold back anymore.

"Ah, fuck baby." You moan as his eyes roll back in his head. "How can I say no to you when you ask so nicely?"

You writhe under him as he rubs the swollen head on your pussy first, wetting the tip of his cock with your arousal as you nuzzle your face on his neck to get more of his scent, his skin muffling your moans when he lightly taps your clit.

"If it's too much," Shinsou holds you by the chin to make you look at him, your gaze half-lidded, mouth agape, you looked fucked dumb already. "what were you going to say?"

"Band-bandaids." You half-moan, half speak. Satisfied with the answer, Shinsou can't wait any longer as he's finally pushing himself in you, your cunt pulsing around him-

fuck- so warm, so wet, so soft-

"Holy fuck!" A guttural groan rips from his chest as he feels your strained walls pulse and flutter around him, trying to adjust to his size as he hears your needy cries right next to his ear. It has him losing his mind; Shinsou angles his hips just enough to have you screaming his name, and the feeling of his cock dragging against your pussy, heavy and hot in you, is enough to have you teetering on the edge already.

"'s big!" You whine into his neck, body convulsing with each drag of his cock in you. "So big- you're so big, makes me feel so full." You gasp, unaware of how you bring your hand to your stomach, pressing on the bulge that appears when he pushes in you.

You look so mindlessly fucked out; with your face twisted in pleasure, mouth fallen slack and drool pooling in the corner of your lips, eyes rolling back in your skull as he plunges in and out of you.

"Shinsou- Shinsou, ah, fuck!" You babble, nails digging in his arms to leave angry red crescents. So lost in the pleasure, you're not exactly aware of Shinsou's hands roaming around your face, cupping your jaw, caressing your cheeks, pushing back stray hairs. So cute, so vulnerable for him- he can't wait to make your face wet with tears.

"I'm gonna- I- I'm gonna cum!" You moan, but he knows this already, by the way your back arching off the bed with each deep thrust of his hips, by your pussy clenching even harder on his cock, your hands holding on to him like he's your lifeline.

In a heartbeat, just as you're sure the coil that's been growing in you is going to snap, just as you're about to fall into that bliss- he stops.

A broken sob follows his stillness, a cry ripping itself off your chest at the feeling that was just beyond reach. "Why?" You whine into his chest, hips wiggling to try and feel the same as you did a second ago.

"Shh, it's okay," he coos, voice breathy, more uncollected than he tries to look, purple locks of hair submitting to gravity and falling down, hovering around his face like an indigo halo. "I'll let you come as many times as you want- if you beg."

He raises a brow at you when you squirm under his touch, clamping down on his cock when he growls in your ear, hot breath fanning on your neck. "Beg for it, pretty girl, beg for me to make you cum on my cock- such a hungry slut- beg and I'll give you whatever you want."

You look up at him teary-eyed, your body shaking like a leaf in hungry need, for release, for him, but your lips refuse to atone, your head shaking side to side as a sob leaves your throat.

You can't, you can't beg, but the feeling is irresistible.

"No?" Shinsou voices your silent rebel, and you think the shadows on his face just got a few tones darker.

"You think you have a choice?" His voice low and grave as you feel a pair of hands snake up your body and wrap around your neck, squeezing just the right amount to have your eyes widen with shock, pussy tighten with need but not so much that you're gasping for air. "Nothing but a filthy whore- look at me when I fuck you."

Another squeeze has your eyes rolling back in your head, his filthy words traveling right down to your weeping core. "Now beg."

This time, you don't miss a beat before obeying, pleas falling from your lips along with whimpers of his name, but it's not enough; that you can tell by the dissatisfied click of his tongue. "P-please, sir," you whisper, it makes him move, a hard thrust in your to show praise.

"P-please fuck me-" you add, trying to speak between his occasional deep thrusts, messing with your head. "Show me my- mmh, fuck!- my place!"

As soon as the words are out of your lips, Shinsou goes out of his mind as well. His eyes widen with how your words affect him, an electrifying warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach. "Show you your place?" He growls, and you cry out a moan when he starts thrusting in a ruthless pace, his grip on your neck now suddenly a tad tighter, black spots dancing around in your vision.

"Show you what a slut you are, is that it?"

You're not even comprehending the words he's spewing, the feeling of his cock filling you up has warm tears running down your cheeks, sobs mixed with moans filling the silence other than the sound of skin slapping skin and his low growls.

"Crying? What a little baby, can't even take a cock in you, huh? Then what are you even good for?" Just as he finishes his sentence, the tip of his cock grazes that sweet spot in you, making you cry out a louder sob. "Sh-shinsou, please!"

Hearing you sob out his name like that has his cock twitching in you, your legs wrapped around his waist, legs digging into the small of his back, your nails biting in his shoulders as if he's the only thing holding you up and sane, newer ones filling his skin with each thrust he gifts you. His lidded gaze focuses on your fucked out face, drooling as your mouth falls slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head, face wet with tears you're still shedding. His hand travels from your neck to your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he can lean forward and plant a wet kiss on your lips.

"Fuck yeah- look at you, pretty girl, crying because how good I'm fucking you, huh?"

You nod pathetically, knowing he's waiting for an answer, but a nod is all you can muster with how hazy your mind feels. "More, more- please sir, ah!" Your hands travel from his arms to his back, leaving red, angry stripes on his back as well; one of your hands find a purple lock of hair, taking it between your fingers and hanging on it as hard as you can-

"Ah, shit!" Shinsou shouts as he throws his head up in the air at the dull pain you give him, his cock twitching in you and making you cry out a moan. You're not even aware you're pulling his hair, not aware you're getting him so close to cumming, not aware of anything but his fat cock drilling in you.

"Shit! Baby don't- ah, don't do that or I'm-" He groans, thrusts getting harder, faster-

"You're gonna cum?" He growls in your ear as he feels you clamping harder on his cock, the feeling of you fluttering around him bringing him to your high with you. "Huh? Are you? Answer me." Shinsou's hand grips your hair, pulling it and exposing the skin of your neck for him, open and vulnerable for him to leave marks.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, the kisses he leaves on every sensitive part of your neck, the way his teeth graze and sometimes bite your skin- it's all too much, your body shaking and back arching, you're close- so, so close that-

"I'm cumming- sir, please, I-"

"Cum for me then." Shinsou orders, voice breathy and shaking with the pleasure he's swimming in.

All it takes is for him to lean for another kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth, and you're falling off the sweet edge, cries getting louder and body shaking with a ripping orgasm, you're clamping down on his cock like crazy, like you won't ever let him go, your dainty hands in his hair and hanging on his locks without care and fuck-

"Give me one more, baby, one more-" Shinsou grunts in your ear, lips grazing the shell as his fingers rub vigorous circles on your clit, "I know you have it in you, come on."

"I- I can't-" You try to speak, but it's all too much, your mind foggy, the tip of your tongue lolling out. "You can," Shinsou growls, orders. "You can and you will."

It's not much after your body convulses with yet another orgasm, hanging on Shinsou as he keeps fucking into you, and you know he's close.

"Come in me!" Your voice cries out to the man; you have your arms thrown around his neck, pulling him to yourself, want to be closer, closer, closer- "Please- come in me! I want to feel you- ah!"

You gasp as he gives you few last pumps, overstimulation making you flinch. Shinsou comes with a groan, teeth sinking into the conjunction of your neck and shoulders and causing you to cry out in pleasure mixes with a tint of pain.

Your eyes are falling as he pulls you to himself, closing his arms around you and holding you against his chest. You stay like that for a while, both too tired to even ask each other how you're doing. He finally slips out of your abused cunt, standing up to glance at you worriedly when you wince. "Sorry."

"How are you feeling?" You hear him grumble as he shuffles through the drawers, wetting the clean towel he pulled out from there. When he comes back, you also notice the bottle of medicine he has in his hands.

"Here, take this." He gives you the medicine and a cup of water, leaning towards you hesitantly. "Should I?" He brings the towel towards the between of your legs, but still keeps a distance.

When you nod, his soft touch ushers your legs to part. He grimaces when you wince at the contact with the towel, even when his touch is so light, but you endure it.

"I should help you out with those." You mutter, half-embarrassed as you inspect the angry red lines adorning his back and arms. His chest is littered with lovebites and marks you don't even remember leaving, and he chuckles when he drops his gaze to look for himself, as well.

"It's okay; you should rest." He laughs. "I'll take care of it later."

You nod, but you still feel his gaze on you as you push yourself deeper in the sheets, mind swimming in thoughts of-

"What are you going to do now?" Shinsou voices, and you notice he's back in his boxers and a shirt, hair in a little more shape. You blink a few times, not knowing how to answer, not knowing the answer, hands fisting the sheets in tight balls.

"I first wanted to go find Aizawa." You shrug, rubbing your eyes. "Before I came here, I mean."

He huffs out a surprised laugh, glancing at you with his brows raised. "That's a first." He mutters. "What's the occasion?"

A smile sneaks its way on your lips as you give him an unfazed shrug. "You think I'll tell you? Maybe I'll let you hear what it is when you take me to him."

Shinsou stays still for a second or so, the predatory glint he had a few minutes ago appearing once again in his indigo eyes. "My silly little baby," You feel two of his fingers graze the underside of your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his. "I thought we already agreed that I can make you do anything I say." You feel his breath on your lips, leaning to close the gape.

"Or should I teach you one more time?"