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featherandferns · 24 days ago

Note

5. “Ah Yes. Betrayl, I’m Familiar With That”

22. “You’re My Best Friend” Angst Pleaseee

🫂❤️‍🩹

21. "You're my best friend"

I've actually already done prompt 5 (read wasps here) and prompt 21 ("You're my best friend" is 21 not 22), so I just did an angsty prompt 21 instead of redoing both- I hope that's okay! <3

Season 4 spoilers kind of? Just episode 1 vibes.

Promise - prompt 21

JJ Maybank was designed for you to fall in love with him. It ran deeper than his looks; penetrated through the flesh. His personality was interwoven with his beauty the way his veins lined his muscles and skin. All the idiosyncrasies that made him up in flaws and faults, like his recklessness and his impulsiveness, were nothing but charms in your eyes. He caused trouble wherever he went the way a hurricane accidentally leaves a wake in its path. You chased that trouble like a storm chaser: compass and map and get-away car at hand, just for him.

By the wonder of fate, you ended up by his side. It was as though the universe placed you there - as if you and JJ were born from the same star dust, destined to find one another in the next life. From childhood, you were in the picture. Offering him a place to stay when his dad was in one of his blind, drunk rages. Giggling through pier jumping adventures and screaming through cheesy horror flicks. Later, older, he was there after your first “heartbreak” and you were there to hear about his cunning escapades with a random girl on the island, his virginity no longer a mark on his name. And with this age came realisations and ramifications. With this age came thoughts and feelings that were new and alien to you. The kind that warps one’s perception. The kind that frames someone in new ways under new titles. JJ Maybank went from being your snotty, scheming long-lasting friend, into your crush. The more time you spent in his orbit, the closer you were drawn. And so, as designed, you fell in love with him.

He was hard to read and harder to decipher. A flirt, no doubt, though less so as the Pogue-centred adventures grew. His carelessness diminished somewhat when the stakes grew. When the sight of blood and dead bodies became shy of the norm, even compared to his youth in his father’s shadow. John B and Sarah went and with that, JJ came. Closer to you than ever. Needing you more than before. Restless nights and lonely days which you were more than happy to fill, needing him just as much. Nothing beyond cuddles and shared beds. A kiss that never strayed more than a cheek or forehead. Then, reunited with the formerly missing Pogues, came his lightness once more. But that distance didn’t come: he was still just as close. Almost attainable. Poguelandia and El Dorado felt like fever dreams in this light. The one constant was JJ, no matter what, and you the same for him.

Now, settled, JJ’s old Maybank home rebuilt and remade, the bait-and-surf shop up and running, the gang tethered together through trauma and triumph: you finally felt like everything was falling into place, the same way you had fallen for JJ.

“I might just sleep out here tonight,” JJ tells you. He’s lying by your side on the newly fixed up boat. The two of you are staring up at the sky, slowly starting to fill with stars, slowly losing the colour of daylight.

“You’ll be dinner for the skeeters,” you say.

He shrugs. “Circle of life, I guess.”

Laughing quietly, you turn your head. His hair is short again - dirty blonde, sunkissed highlights. The small jut of his chin and the slope of his nose. The high press of his cheekbones from his small, lingering smile. At the feel of your gaze, he turns his head too. An air of amusement brushes over him; has him almost laughing, quirking a brow.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you hum. Your own smile falters and your stomach churns. The words are brewing deep within you like a slow, roasting broth. They’d been there for years now, waiting to slip out, and you felt like you can’t hold it down much longer. JJ’s own smile fades into a look of worry, mirroring your own anxiety.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you repeat, lying. “I just…I’m just happy.”

His lips twitch upward again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m happy you finally have a home, JJ,” you quietly say.

Visibly moved by your sentiment, his hand reaches out for yours, lying limp on the cool plastic exterior of the boat. He squeezes your hand in his. Smiles at you. Holds your gaze. As if drawn in by some outside force, you lean over. Your eyes slip shut and your lips find his, and there, you plant a gentle, soft kiss. It’s no more than a peck. No more than a fleeting, almost phantom moment of weakness. Lingering, lips no more than a centimetre from his, you wait. Wait for some absolution that you hoped might come.

JJ clears his throat. His hand slips from yours. Your heart cracks like the break of an ice surface as he sits up, sort of hurried. You sit up too.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, knowing fully well what the answer is.

JJ is reaching for his boots that he took off an hour or so ago. He meddles with the laces. Not looking at you, he mumbles, “why’d you have to do that?”

“What?”

“Everything was…God, why the fuck did you have to do that?” he repeats, frustrated, maybe even angry.

Your eyes sting and your heart burns and it starts to feel as though you’re slipping away from yourself. “I don’t know. I just…I just figured–”

“--Well, you shouldn’t have,” JJ snaps, his head darting up. Your eyes meet his and there’s this panic there, deep and damning. You feel damned.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Sorry for what? For kissing him? For thinking that he might feel the same? For hoping that he might?

JJ shakes his head and looks back at his boots. His frantic movements stop, fingers mixed with his laces. “Why’d you have to do that, huh? Everything was finally how it should be and now…Now it’s all messed up.”

“Messed up? No, no, it doesn’t…We can just forget about it,” you hurriedly say. You grab at his forearm, wanting his attention, now for a whole new reason. “We can just pretend it never happened.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I don’t know. I just thought that maybe, with everything that’s happened, maybe you might feel the same way,” you stammer.

JJ’s eyes slip shut. It’s as though you gave him the diagnosis to a disease he always dreaded. “We can’t.”

You’re not sure what he’s alluding to with that. We can’t pretend it never happened? We can’t move forward? We can’t be friends?

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”

JJ gnaws at his lower lip. You sit and wait and hope and pray that you haven’t managed to tear apart years of friendship with one stupid moment of idiocy. Ironic how JJ lived his life in spur-of-the-moment choices but the second you make one, it might haunt you forever. Eventually, as if in slow motion, he looks at you. There’s a sadness in his eyes as though he knows what he says will pain you, and your heart takes pause as you wait. His lips move wordlessly at first and then, sighing, he finds the words.

“I’m in love with Kiara.”

You feel like bleeding ink on a page. Like you have no mass or place of purchase. Like any meaning you ascribed to anything is now without, soulless and baseless; a work of fiction, like some Shakesperian tragedy.

“Oh,” you breathe.

He nods. “I…I’m sorry, I just…I don’t feel that way for you.”

“Okay,” you murmur. You think you might throw up. You shift in your spot as if preparing to. JJ reaches out a hand and it burns when he touches yours.

“I don’t want to lose you though. I do love you, but the love I feel for her is different. I’m sorry, I don’t know why, I just–”

“--JJ, please,” you beg. You force yourself to look him in the eyes. He’s terrified of everything. Always has been, as long as you’ve known him. More than anything, terrified of love. And you know what that means, for him to care so deeply for someone. You know that he needs you. And you know that, despite everything, you need him. It hurts to be something but it’s worse to be nothing, after all.

Somewhere deep inside of you, you find a smile. A forced, placid smile, like a lady-in-waiting might wear. Your other hand envelopes his and you will the tears away.

“I’m your best friend,” you assure him. The words are sour like acid on your tongue. It feels like blasphemy. Nodding, as if trying to make yourself believe it too, you say, “we can forget the whole thing.”

A relieved smile comes to JJ’s face like a breath of air after free diving. He leans back, nods, happy, overjoyed, appeased.

“Thank God. Cause I don’t know what I’d do without you. I really don’t,” he says, meaning every word. Maybe that’s what hurts the most.

Nodding, agreeing, you say, “Kiara would be an idiot if she didn’t want you, too.”

Smiling to himself, his head dips, abashed, and you know then and there that he’d never be that way for you. He gets up and as his hand slips form your hold, it feels like you’re losing him forever. Once again, he’s reframed. Different again. No longer your crush, no longer your future, and no longer your best friend. He’s a mirage. He isn’t real. You no longer know what to call him or how to name your connection. Because as he walks away, bidding you goodnight, heading to the house where Kiara sleeps soundly, beautiful and brilliant, you begin to cry, knowing that you would never be able to forget it, and yet knowing that you had to.

JJ Maybank was designed for you to fall in love with him, but he was never designed to love you back.

#jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj #obx #outerbanks #outer banks #obx 4 #outer banks 4 #outerbanks 4 #jj maybank season 4 #outer banks jj maybank #jj maybank drabble #jj drabble #jj x reader drabble #jj maybank x reader drabble #jj maybank angst #jj x kiara #jiara

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ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey · 1 month ago

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How about jealous Ginny for a prompt? I mean there are plenty of jealous Harry stories but for once I want to need to see a jealous Ginny! Loved the overprotective Harry btw❤️🩷

They - quite literally - run into her at the Leaky Cauldron.

Ginny was walking backward, grinning wickedly at Harry as she tried to surmise just how many photographers would swarm Diagon Alley once word had spread that he was there, while Harry continued to argue he should at least be allowed to don the Invisibility Cloak.

“No, no, I’ll look insane talking to myself all day. You’ve got to face society, sometime, Potter,” Ginny was saying. “Some would say it’s your responsibility, no your duty to–”

“--my duty?”

“--to spend the day dodging photographers for your girlfriend. Isn’t that your whole deal? Self-sacrificing, hero–”

“Rita Skeeter is worse than Voldemort.”

It was precisely the moment when Ginny let out a loud, unattractive Ha! that her back came into contact with a person turning away from the bar. It’s all a bit of a flurry for a few moments - a folder of papers flutters to the floor, Ginny stumbles and corrects herself with an “Oh Merlin I’m so sorry,” Harry jolts forward helplessly as though to catch… something.

Ginny turns to apologize more earnestly, when she realizes that she knows the person she’s just crashed into.

“--I’m such an idiot, are you– Oh! Cho!”

“Er, hi,” Cho Chang says, a bit ruefully. “It’s good to – oh, no, don’t worry, I can–”

Cho flaps her hands uselessly, for Harry has bent over to pick up the papers Ginny had knocked to the floor.

“Here,” Harry says, stuffing the papers haphazardly back into the folder and thrusting it out toward Cho.

“Thanks,” Cho says, and then a horribly awkward silence swallows them all.

Ginny struggles for anything to say. The only idiotic thing she can think to say is - You look pretty - because Cho does. Her silky black hair is swept up into some elegant looking chignon, and it’s clear she’s done up her makeup a bit more than usual. She’s wearing smart robes that are fitted elegantly, and her soft-pink nails are perfectly shaped.

“Are you two off to Diagon Alley?” Cho says, with an air of desperation to fill the silence.

“Yes,” Ginny says, latching on to the subject like a life raft.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “Picking up school things for Ginny.”

“Oh!” Cho says, turning to Ginny in surprise. “Do you have another year of school left, then?”

The question, in conjunction with Cho’s very grown-up elegance, leaves Ginny feeling particularly infantile and irritable; their two-year age-gap seems suddenly to span decades. “Yep,” Ginny says, a note of petulance creeping into her tone. “Finishing up my NEWTs.”

“Good for you!” Cho says, in a way that manages not to sound patronizing, even though Ginny's certain it is. “I don’t know if I could go back to school, after every–”

Harry, shooting an alarmed glance at Ginny’s expression, interjects. “Did you do some shopping today, as well?”

“Oh! Er, no. No I… I just finished up a job interview, actually, in one of the back rooms here.”

“Did you?” Harry says, raising his eyebrows. “Nice. Hope it went well.”

“Me too,” Cho says, looking at Harry a bit shyly, now. Ginny narrows her eyes. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. The job - it’s in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“Really?” Harry says, and he sounds genuinely interested now. “What role?”

“Oh, something administrative. I’m not very interested in field work, I’d much rather be working on the policy side of things, but – well, I’d actually wanted to thank you. Everything was so in flux after—well, in May, and I never got a chance to–”

“Thank me?” Harry says, sounding baffled. “You don’t–”

“I do,” Cho insists prettily, wringing her hands prettily, sounding pretty. “You were so brave, what you did. Facing him. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you– And honestly, I wouldn’t even have had a chance at this job if it weren’t for the DA. I think they only interviewed me because I mentioned I’d been a part of it–”

“Really,” Harry says awkwardly, “it’s nothing, you don’t need to–”

“It’s isn’t nothing, at all!” Cho says emphatically, tucking a silky strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’ve made such a difference for everyone and I’ve been wanting to tell you but I–”

“Don’t be modest, Harry,” Ginny interjects hotly. Cho’s gushing so much they all might drown in it. In fact, Ginny wouldn’t mind all that much if Cho did.

Harry shoots her a wary look, and then turns back to Cho. “That’s, er, really nice of you to say.”

“I mean it,” Cho says. “I heard you’ve joined the Aurors, is that true?”

“Er, yeah–” Harry says, ruffling his hair anxiously. It strikes Ginny then, as it so often does, that Harry is quite good-looking, now. Not that he hadn’t been, before, but months of regular eating and living out from under the thumb of the threat of constant death has been good to him - go figure. He’s filled out and bought clothes that fit and Ginny’s very much enjoyed it all until this moment, when it strikes her that he could stand to be a bit less handsome, all piercing eyes and messy hair and wry smirks directed at Cho bloody Chang. “I have.”

“I knew you would,” Cho says, like she’s some insider expert on Harry’s tendencies. “We’ll be in the same office, then, if I get this job!”

“Oh!” Harry says, coming up short. “That’s—” he shoots a glance at Ginny. “That’s great.”

“That’s wonderful,” Ginny says in a passable impression of earnestness that she’s positive does not fool Harry. “Really, really, wonderful.”

Cho looks at Ginny as though she’s only just remembered that she’s there. “Yes, well. Are you still interested in doing the Quidditch thing, Ginny?” Cho asks.

“Oh, who knows?” Ginny says brightly. “Maybe I’ll do the Quidditch thing, or maybe I’ll go be an Auror too. It’ll be a regular party, the three of us.”

Cho’s smile falters a bit. “Yes, that would be lovely.”

“Lovely,” Ginny agrees. “Just lovely.”

Harry coughs, and then they’re plunged into a miserable silence once more.

“Well,” Ginny says heartily. “We’ve got to get a move on. Those photographers won’t dodge themselves, you know.”

“Oh, of course,” Cho says. “Well, it was lovely to see you both.”

“Lovely,” Ginny agrees.

“Yeah,” Harry says.

“Best of luck at school, Ginny,” Cho says, and Ginny hates that she sounds like she means it. “And maybe I’ll be seeing you in the office, Harry.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry chuckles, “Maybe! Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Cho says, and then she gives them an awkward wave and departs.

Once the door has closed with a jingle of the bell above it, Ginny turns to Harry, her eyebrows raised.

“Ginny…” Harry says with trepidation.

“Looks like you’ve got a new office best mate!” Ginny says with supreme sarcasm. “I’ll tell Ron he’s been usurped, he’ll cry for a bit but I’m sure he’ll manage–”

“She might not even get the job–”

“Oh, no. She will. I mean, she name-dropped you and the DA, that’s sure to give her a leg up, never mind that she wasn’t even at school last year with the worst of it, never mind the whole thing disbanded because of her stupid friend–”

“I don’t think that’s what she–”

“I’m just so glad that while I go months without seeing you, you’ll get to pal around with Cho Chang, I was so worried that you’d get lonely without me, but now–”

“Ginny,” Harry says with an awkward laugh. “Come on, you know that’s not how it is.”

“She can go on thanking you for what a bloody hero you are,” Ginny continues. “I don’t think anyone’s told you that in about five minutes, so it’ll be good to get a nice top up from her when you’re feeling down.”

“Well, sure,” Harry joins in. “You know I can’t go more than six without being reminded.”

Ginny pats his chest. “So brave. There. Do you think that’ll last you until we get to the book shop?”

“I might need a quick round of applause in the apothecary.”

Ginny snorts. “Oh, come on, then,” Ginny says. “Maybe we’ll run into Fleur’s little sister, too, if we’re really lucky.”

They make their way through the brick entrance to Diagon Alley - a far cry from the days of the war, the street is bustling and busy once more. They take a circuitous route to Flourish and Blotts, taking care to walk quickly so that not too many people take notice that Harry Potter is in their midst, and because Ginny cannot bear the sight of her brothers’ joke shop, once alive and bustling and colorful and loud, boarded up and quiet. It’s a bit too on the nose.

They make it nearly to the front door of the book shop before Ginny can’t take it anymore. “Did you hear the way she asked if I was doing ‘the Quidditch thing’?” she snarls, halting them just outside the door. “Like it was some cute little hobby, never mind that she was a Seeker too. Not a very good one, mind, but still!”

Harry has the gall to look faintly amused as he pulls her off to the small alleyway next to the shop. “I’m sure that’s not what she meant. Professional Quidditch is really difficult, she knows–”

“Oh you’re sure, are you?” Ginny spits, rolling her eyes. “Just like she just knew you’d become an Auror? Someone alert Professor Trelawney, we’ve got another Seer on our hands. No one without a powerful Inner Eye could’ve possibly predicted that–”

Harry grins and shakes his head. “You do know I’m not thrilled about this either, don’t you?”

“I can’t imagine why,” Ginny rants. “It’s perfect, your girlfriend will pop off to Scotland and you can hang round with your ex instead!”

“My ex?” Harry says, an eyebrow raised. “We went on one date when I was fifteen and it was terrible.”

“Oh that’s only because you were both traumatized,” Ginny says airily. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled at the chance to reconnect now that you’re both older–”

“Ginny,” Harry says, the amusement replaced with something firm. “You’re not really worried about this, are you?”

Ginny can’t look him in the eye. She’s so irritated, so bothered, that it takes her a moment - she wants to say yes of course I’m worried, did you see how annoyingly pretty she was and the way she looked at you - but she doesn’t. Because it’s not true, not really. As she’s tried to rebuild in the rubble after the war, Harry’s been the one thing she’s sure of through all of it, and she reckons he feels the same. No, she knows he does. She knows he’s not interested in doing anything with Cho Chang.

Ginny takes a deep, calming breath, and meets his eyes. “I just really fucking hate that she might get to see you every day and I–” her voice catches.

Harry pulls her in and gives her one of those hugs that seems to calm every cell in her body, like he might be able to shield her from everything bad in the world. She can’t believe that in two weeks, this is a comfort she won’t have, anymore, reduced instead to stolen moments at Hogsmeade weekends and words scribbled in letters.

“I really fucking hate it, too.”

Ginny burrows her head deeper into his chest, and breathes in the woody smell of him. Finally, she says. “You were right, you know. I can admit it.”

“What?”

She pulls back and looks at him. “I really should’ve let you wear that damn Invisibility Cloak.”

#hinny #missing dh moment #jealous!Ginny

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months ago

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Chibs

1.lipstick

2.cuffs

3.patch

4. Church table (the giant table with the engraving)

This did not go the way I expected...

Companion piece to Gunpower & Lead

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @Kishie8 @nu1freakshow @darqchilddaydreamz @Just-a-girl-who-wrytes

Chibs doesn’t expect to find you at the table, the one they use for Church. You’re sitting in his seat, your gaze focused on the wooden carving etched into the centre. You look like a queen, lost in thought, pondering a problem.

It’s rare that you enter this space, despite being matriarch. Your battlefield is the courtroom, you leave club business to them unless they require legal expertise. He’s been gone a couple days, on a trip down to Santo Padre, the calls between the two of you have been sparse. He’d thought that you were caught up in one of your cases but now he can see it’s something else, something much more problematic.

“Alright love?” He asks as he strips off his gloves from the ride, tucking them into the back pocket in his jeans. His leans over, his lips brushing over the apple of your cheek so that he doesn’t smear your lipstick.

“They found some bones out in the woods a few days ago.” You tell him, your fingertips rapping lightly on the surface of the table. “There’s a rumour that it had a metal plate in it’s left arm.”

The air seems to leave the room and his chest constricts. He sits down in Tig’s seat, clasping his hands together in front of him. That body you’re talking about, it’s your ex-husband, the one you killed because he almost killed you. He’d had the prospects take care of the disposal, Ratboy and Miles before the two of them were patched in. He doesn’t understand, the body should have been cremated…

Then he remembers the scandal a couple of months later, the cremator had been broken and Skeeter had been storing the bodies out back. He’d tried burying a couple in the beginning he’d told the police when the discovery was made but it had become too much work when they kept piling up. It’s why they’d stopped using him.

Your ex, he must have been one of them.

“In the next few days they’re going to identify the body and then they’re going to come knocking on our door.” You tell him, adjusting the cuffs of your silk blouse. “I’ve started to put my affairs in order, the house and everything else has been transferred into your name…”

“Lassie…” He begins, reaching for you and you squeeze his hand tightly in yours.

“This is the way it has to be.” You say quietly. “If I don’t go in and make a confession, it’ll come down on the club and we can’t have that. You were just cleaning up my mess.”

It feels like he’s burning alive, like someone has tipped a can of petrol over his entire body and lit a match. The agony of this decision it sears through his entire body, he wants to argue, to fight but he can see the resignation in you, he knows it would be like screaming into the wind.

You have to do this, for him, for the club because this thing, it could take them all down.

“When?” He says finally, his voice barely more than a rasp.

“Tomorrow.” You tell him and he knows that you’re giving him one last night together before they take you away in cuffs. “I’ll make my confession to David Hale tomorrow.”

Love Chibs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#chibs telford #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs imagine #chibs x reader #filip chibs telford #filip chibs telford x reader #filip telford #filip telford x reader #soa #sons of anarchy

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toothfa-1-ry · 6 days ago

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Little Miss Diggory

"Is that her?" You whisper as you lean towards the sandy haired boy who was slightly frowing

"Yea" cedric breathed out as he noticed Rita Skeeter and her abomination of a outfit

Your quote un quote bestfriend Cedric diggory was chosen as one of the contestants for the tri wizard competition which lead to being interviewd by a certain witch called Rita Skeeter who had a rather infamous reputation, not the good kind of course

"She seems" your lost for words as you look at her "interesting"

"She's bloody mad, completly lost her marbles" cedric rambles, obviously annoyed as he attempts to block you away from her vision. His light Irish accent suddenly flaring up which only happened when he was uncomfortable

The fact usually kind and sweet cedric diggory was calling someone mad, you knew that whatever you had heard of Rita skeeter before, she must have been worser than her rumours

"Don't make eye contact" he whispered

You nodd, quickly turning your head away but it's too late, Rita skeeter had locked eyes with you and a nasty grin forms on her face when she sees cedric with you

"Yoohoo! Cedric!" She cried out in a patronizing sing song voice as she approaches the both of you

You suddenly feel the urge to cling to your books and hide behind cedric

Cedric grimace before he turns around, putting on a forced awkward smile "Rita... I wish I could say it's a pleasure"

"Oh you naughty boy!" Rita's giggles in a high pitch tone "I'm back here again for another interview, a more casual one of course" she says as she ogles between you and cedric

Cedric notices and comes inbetween you and Rita "well shall we go somewhere else than?"

He seriously did not want Rita skeeter among all people to talk to you, God knows what she might write about you. It was already bad enough that Rita had written about him in such a patronizing way

"Oh no" Rita motions cedric to move away "I want to know, who this is" her eyes widen as he looks at you

Cedric inwardly groans, he whispers "I'm really sorry, i didn't want to get you into this"

You nodd, squeezing his arm which seemed to be the wrong thing to do as Rita Skeeter suddenly gasp and her pen begin writing something down

"Oh my your very pretty" Rita came closer to you, her manicured nails now rest on your shoulders "i bet Mr diggory here thinks your very pretty don't you?" She questions cedric

"I mean- well yes" cedric blurts out, his face rather pink with the suddenly confrontation "but I'm not sure why that's relevant right now"

"What about you sweetheart?" Rita questions you

"Cedric and I are good friends" you manage to mutter put before she cuts you in again

"Good friends? Bestfriends? Whats your name dearie?"

You give a confused look as you nodd slowly "im y/n uh l/n and-"

She cuts you off again

"Well do you fancy him? Is this a friends to lovers sort of thing? Ooh now that's something I like" Rita nodds excitedly as her feather pen moves even faster

You notice Cedrics red face with matched yours aswell "Oh i-"

But neither of you can butt in to say anything

"Tell me, how does it feel that your boyfriend" she points at cedric "is in the triwizard competition? Are you happy? Worried? Scared"

Your face goes bright pink "Oh cedric's not my..."

"Y/n and I are good friends" cedric manages to say from underneath the tint of red which clouded his face

"Oh pish posh!" Rita skeeter exclaims as she hit cedric with a pen which made you sneer slightly "you can tell me anything dear! Now tell me how did the both of you start dating?"

"We're not dating-"

"My my... your quite private aren't you" Rita raises her eyebrows as she purses her lips, obviously annoyed at the lack of intell "no worries, ill just have to make up an interesting story"

"Rita i think that's enough for today" Cedric announces, sensing your uncomfortablness

"Oh! But one last question! One last!"

Exasperated cedric sighs as you brace yourself for whatever the last question it may be

"If you had to rate your experience with your boyfriend" she wiggles her eyebrows "ehm.. how much would you rate him?"

Your face flushes a deep crimson, before you can even manage to squeak out a response cedric cuts it off

"Okay that's it" he grabs your hand and rushes off despite Rita Skeeter's protest

"Would you say that he's a good kisser miss y/n? If you don't answer I'm gonna take that as a yes" you could hear Rita skeeter bellow from down the hallway

#cedric diggory x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter fluff #harry potter #cedric diggory #cedric diggory fluff #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #cedric diggory x you #cedric #cedric x reader #cedric deserved better #hufflepuff

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multifandomfix · 2 months ago

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They Walk In On You Changing (Harry Potter Preference)

Barty Crouch Jr: Barty would freeze for a moment, his lips curling into a smirk as he takes in the scene. “Well, well, what do we have here,” he’d drawl, licking his lips. He wouldn’t be embarrassed, instead reveling in making you feel flustered. He might linger a bit longer than is polite, before leaving with a wink.

Bellatrix LeStrange: Bellatrix wouldn’t be flustered at all at her intrusion on you, in fact, she’d laugh maniacally. “Oh, darling, don’t stop on my account,” she’d say with a grin. There’s a wild glint in her eyes as she looks you over. She’d probably only leave once she feels she’s gotten a real good look and committed the view to memory.

Draco Malfoy: Draco would immediately flush a deep shade of red, stammering apologies as he turns his back. “I—I didn’t see anything, I swear,” he’d blurt out, trying to keep his cool but failing miserably. He’d be mortified at the situation because of the embarrassment it may have caused you. Though you’d likely catch him stealing glances at you in the future, remembering the incident and giving away that he had seen something.

Lucius Malfoy: Lucius would maintain a cool composure, as if the sight doesn’t faze him in the least. He might raise an eyebrow in mild interest, but he’d quickly avert his eyes and advise you, “Perhaps next time you should ensure the door is locked.” There’s a note of superiority in his voice, and he’d leave as though nothing had happened, though with a hint of amusement on his lips.

Minerva McGonagall: Professor McGonagall would be horrified at her lack of decorum. She’d immediately avert her gaze, sternly apologizing while turning to leave. “My deepest apologies,” she’d say in a clipped tone, flustered but maintaining her usual formality. She’d be more embarrassed than you, and would likely be extra formal with you for a while afterward.

Molly Weasley: Molly would immediately cover her eyes with her hands and let out a mortified gasp. “Oh dear! I’m so sorry, love!” she’d exclaim, clearly more distressed by the situation than you are. She’d rush out of the room, mumbling apologies, and probably fuss over you later, asking if you’re alright or need anything, still embarrassed by what happened.

Narcissa Malfoy: Narcissa’s reaction would be swift and graceful. She’d quickly turn away and politely say, “Forgive me, I should have knocked.” She would be calm and composed, making you feel like the whole thing was an unfortunate but trivial matter. She’d leave you with your dignity intact, ensuring there’s no awkwardness between you later.

Rita Skeeter: Rita would be intrigued more than anything else. Her eyes would widen in interest, and she’d quickly take in every detail. “Well, this is quite the sight,” she’d say with a sly grin, already crafting a scandalous headline in her mind. She’d linger a bit too long for comfort, leaving with a smug expression and a vivid picture of you in her mind.

Severus Snape: Snape would freeze in place, his expression shifting from surprise to mild discomfort. His usual sharp demeanor softens, and though he keeps his face impassive, there’s a flicker of awkwardness in his eyes. “My apologies,” he would say in a low, measured tone, quickly turning away and closing the door behind him. He’d make a mental note to avoid eye contact for a while afterward, clearly unsettled but determined to act like it never happened.

Sybill Trelawney: Trelawney would gasp dramatically and flutter her hands in distress. “Oh dear, the fates did not forewarn me of this encounter,” she’d exclaim, looking genuinely flustered. She’d apologize profusely, making strange references to “mystical energies” that led her to walk in at that moment. She’d be more awkward than you, and would not forgive herself for her intrusion for some time.

For Anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @trexsuit, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

#barty crouch jr #bellatrix lestrange #draco malfoy #lucius malfoy #minerva mcgonagall #molly weasley #narcissa malfoy #rita skeeter #severus snape #sybill trelawney #harry potter #harry potter preference #request #send requests #requests open

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shotmrmiller · 3 months ago

Note

indifference is probably the best (only) way to get one over on him. he wants to make your work a mess? he doesn't get to strut and preen about leaving plants he plucked outside on your desk or the big hickies you affect are just skeeters you have sensitivity to. (get) fuck(ed by) him.

indifference is the way because he's aroused by the idea of you giving it your best to ignore him whose mere presence can fill up the room (people chat far too fucking much when their hands are idle, ain't his fault) and you're just:

don't see him (he's 6'4+)

he isn't sitting here (his legs take up most of the space beneath the table, you're about to sit criss cross if he taps your foot again)

no, he did not just snatch the roll of your lunch tray (bastard you were saving that for last)

omg pause because you being closer friends with soap and he's on your ass immediately like what the fuck did ye do ??? simon's brought your name up during debrief! ye ken tha' he used to sleep through em instead of helpin' price decide what rookie to take as backup on a mission

idk man and idc.

(fr wants you along just so he can bully you some more.)

#after snapping your spine like a pencil he tells you that they're wheels up at 0500 #like he didn't just spend most of said night putting you through your twin mattress #just because he's an insomniac don't mean we all are

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mybutcheredtongue · 7 months ago

Text

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY (see full series list here)

1993

On the 22nd of November you sit on the floor of your office late at night, watching the flames of your fireplace crackle and pop. Beside you, sits Harry, eyes focused on the fire as well. Sirius had asked him to wait in front of the fire in your office at one o'clock and for you to be there too. You can't say your heart isn't beating faster than the steady tick of the clock on the wall, worried and giddy at the same time.

"I'm sorry about this whole situation, Harry," you say with a sigh, reaching out to stroke Dubh's fur idly as she clambers into your lap. "I know this isn't what you want. I tried everything to get them to change the rules but nothing worked."

"Thanks," he says blankly, like he's used to being disappointed.

"And that article in the paper — "

"I didn't say anything of that. It's a lie," Harry responds quickly.

You nod. "I'm well aware. Rita Skeeter is...difficult." As soon as the words have left your mouth, you grimace, shaking your head. "Actually, she doesn't deserve that nicety. She's a bitch, Harry. A nasty old hag that has nothing better to do with her life than spread rumours and sensationalise everything in sight."

Harry seems slightly taken aback by your words but nods in fierce agreement nonetheless.

"My best advice to you, Harry, is to run for the hills every time you see her — or just wave me over if I'm near. I am well accustomed to small talk with people like her — the trick is to just get them talking about themselves."

He nods. "I don't plan on going anywhere near her ever again."

"Smart decision," you say, sighing. "And look — I know I'm not supposed to get involved but if you need any help whatsoever, just ask. There's plenty of useful spells I can teach you and tips I can give — anything at all."

Just then, the flames move in a peculiar fashion and Sirius' head appears in the fire. Both you and Harry let out a small gasp, and when you look at Harry, his face has broken into the biggest smile you've seen him wear in weeks.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaims immediately.

He looks different from the last time you seen him. His face had looked gaunt and sunken, but now he looks far healthier and his hair, which was long, matted and greasy, is now clean and neat. You're glad to see that though he's trimmed it a tad, he's kept the beard. He looks younger.

"Hello, Harry," he says, before he turns to you, smiling, "and hello to you too, love."

You bring your hand up and give him a tiny little wave, unable to stop the giddy smile taking over your face at the sight of him.

"How're you doing?" Harry asks.

"Never mind me, how are you?" Sirius asks firmly, returning his attention to his godson.

"I'm — " Harry stops himself suddenly, holding himself back. Just when you're about to check if he's alright, he spills. He tells the two of you everything: about how no one believes that he hasn't entered himself into the tournament, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he can't walk down a corridor without getting sneered at, and about the toll it's all taken on his friendship with Ron.

You feel your heart ache for him. He deserves absolutely none of this and you wish you could do more to help.

"Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons — I'm a goner," he finishes desperately.

Sirius is looking at Harry with deep concern as he says, "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute — I haven't got long here...I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."

"Just break into Moony's house next time," you say simply, shrugging. "Sounds much easier to me."

Sirius gives you a look that suggests he already thought of that, but obviously decided not to as he was already coming north to see you two. You smile cheekily at him and he shakes his head, refocusing his attention on Harry.

"What do you need to warn me about?" Harry asks.

"Karkaroff," Sirius says. "Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"He's a Death Eater?" You're shocked. Just this morning you picked his fork off the ground for him at breakfast!

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year — to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

There already is an Auror at Hogwarts, you think. Or did Dumbly-dorr just forget about me?

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry says slowly. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," Sirius replies bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then named names...he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place...he's not very popular there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

How do you not remember any of this? Surely you'd have seen this all mentioned in the papers around that time?

"Okay..." Harry says. "But...are you saying that Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," says Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry — "

"You and the rest of the world," he says bitterly.

"— and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius says hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but I don't think so somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely; Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he still can't spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So...what are you saying? Karkaroff's trying to kill me? But — why?"

Sirius hesitates.

"I've been hearing some very strange things," he says apprehensively. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone cast the Dark Mark...and then — did you hear about that Ministry witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" You say. You recall reading that article about her disappearance not too long ago.

"Exactly...she disappeared to Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumoured to be last...and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but...it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" says Harry.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Sirius says grimly, glancing at you. "Do you remember her at school?"

You nod your head. "She was at Hogwarts when we were, a few years above us," you explain to Harry. "As thick as a board, she was. Very nosey, too. Awful combination."

"Makes her easy to lure into a trap," Sirius finishes.

"So...so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" says Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don’t know," Sirius says with a shake of his head, "I just don’t know...Karkaroff doesn’t strike me as the type who’d go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can’t help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where I’m standing." Harry grins bleakly. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

"You'll be fine," you reassure firmly, though you're not sure if it's for Harry's sake or your own. "I'll be there, all the rest of the teachers will be there, and there'll be that group of dragon keepers there too."

"Look, about these dragons," Sirius says, speaking quickly now, glancing around him furtively, "There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a simple Stunning Spell — dragons are too strong and powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon — "

"Yeah, I know, I just saw," Harry says.

"But you can do it alone," Sirius tells him, looking him straight in the eye. "There is a way, a simple spell's all you need — "

Knock-knock.

At once, all three of you go dead silent and whip your heads to the closed door.

"Go, Sirius, quickly!" You hiss at him urgently.

You scramble to your feet, grabbing Harry's invisibilty cloak off the desk and launching it at him.

"Quick!"

Harry frantically pulls the cloak over his head and ducks behind your desk as you make you way over to the door, glancing back at the fireplace to see that Sirius' head has disappeared and the flames have returned to normal. You feel a small pang in your heart.

Who could possibly be knocking at your door at one o'clock in the morning? Surely everyone is asleep by now?

You pull the door open and are met with nothing but the quiet, dark corridor.

"Must've been Peeves," you mutter angrily, moving to close the door. Of course that poltergeist would find a way to cut your time with Sirius short.

"Oh, no, mistress, it is Bitsy!"

You look down in search of the voice and sure enough, at the foot of your door, is Bitsy, grinning up widely at you with her ginormous eyes reflecting the flickering light of the candles on the wall. You notice that she's holding a tray of scones in her tiny hands.

"Bitsy?" You say in shock and confusion. "What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

"Bitsy was cleaning this corridor, mistress, and heard talking coming from mistress's office! And Bitsy thinks 'why is mistress up so late talking?' Perhaps she has a guest and is very hungry! Mistress was not at breakfast this morning, and I isn't seeing mistress in the kitchens either!"

While part of you feels angry and cheated that she's just interrupted your seldom chance to talk to your husband, you can't be mad at Bitsy and her big kind heart.

You chuckle softly. "Oh, Bitsy. You are far too kind to me. You're right, I didn't attend breakfast this morning nor did I go to the kitchens in the afternoon — I had breakfast with a friend of mine in Hogsmeade today. I should have told you."

Bitsy beams at you and holds the tray out for you to take. "Bitsy is glad to know you did not go hungry this morning. For you, mistress!"

You accept the tray with a smile. "Thank you, Bitsy. You are very kind — let me go fetch something to give you as a thank you."

"Oh, no, mistress! I cannot accept anything from you, I is just doing my duty!"

You leave her momentarily, placing the tray of scones down, grabbing a box off your desk and returning to hand it to her. "Film for your camera, Bitsy. So you can take more pictures. "

You don't miss the gleeful smile that spreads over Bitsy's face as she looks at the box in wonder. "Mistress, I must not — "

"I insist, Bitsy. Actually — I order you to accept the film. I know how much you love your camera," you tell her, pushing it into her hands.

"Thank you, mistress," she says gratefully, bowing to you. "I must return to my work now, unless mistress requires Bitsy for anything?"

You shake your head, smiling. "No, but thank you, Bitsy. I think it's time for mistress to get some rest."

Bitsy leaves, clutching the film tightly in her hands and bowing out of your view before Disapparating. You close the door behind you, letting out a sigh as Harry stands up slowly, pulling the cloak off.

"I'm sorry about that, Harry," you say. "I really wish we could have more time with Sirius."

"Yeah, me too. Was that a house elf?"

You nod, chuckling. "Sure was. That's Bitsy. You see, I stay up much later than everyone else — I'm usually up in the tower because of course, the best time to view the stars is at night, so I sleep in the next day and miss breakfast a lot of the time. And when I do, I can go down to the kitchens and Bitsy and all the other house elves will give me something to eat — have done since I was in school myself and did the exact same thing. Bitsy is my saviour, honestly. She's an absolute gem."

"You're able to get into the Hogwarts kitchens?" Harry says curiously.

"Yep. There's a painting of a bowl of fruit down by the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room — just tickle the pear and the door'll open right up for you."

You know that as a teacher you probably shouldn't be telling him this, but you don't really care. You went there countless times as a student so why shouldn't he?

Harry nods thoughtfully before asking, "That spell Sirius mentioned, that could defeat a dragon...have you any idea what it is?"

You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against your hip as you search your brain for anything like that. "I don't, Harry, I'm sorry. Perhaps you could try confundus, and confuse it? I can't say I'm too familiar with dragons...now, you should go to bed, Harry. A good night's sleep for the next few days is what you need before the first task. And in the meantime, I'll have a look and see if I can figure something out for you."

"Thanks, but I doubt I'll find it easy to sleep," Harry remarks, throwing the cloak back over his head.

"Well, if you do find that you can't sleep, come up the Tower," you tell him with a smile, pulling the door open for his invisible figure. "I find stargazing is the best way to relieve stress and solve problems."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You feel like you're about to get sick. You stare at the Hungarian Horntail, huge and terrifying as she crouches protectively over her eggs, huffing great hot breaths out of her large nostrils. And there, standing across from this fearsome beast as though rooted to the spot, is Harry. The crowd roars around you but you can barely hear them as your stomach knots and twists and flips with sickening worry.

"Accio Firebolt!" Harry yells, raising his wand.

You wait. The crowd waits. Harry waits.

And then you see it. Harry's broomstick, his Firebolt, hurtles towards him and stops in mid-air beside him, waiting for him to mount it. You vaguely register Ludo Bagman roaring something over the crowd in response to this, but you're too focused on praying to whatever great deities you can to protect your godson. You're just so relieved that he managed to figure something out — and something so clever, too! Why hadn't you thought of a Summoning Spell? It's so simple. Sirius will be so proud of Harry when he finds out.

Harry rises into the air, the wind rushing through his hair, surveying the dragon not far below him. A sort of resolve seems to come over him and then he dives, forcing you to bring your hands up to cover your eyes in fear.

"Oh, I can't watch," you breathe. Beside you, Minerva gives you an understanding look as she watches on. You hear the rush of fire, the crowd cheering and screaming, and then —

"Great Scott, he can fly!" Bagman roars. "Are you watching this, Mr Krum?"

You open your eyes just in time to see Harry plummet to the ground once more, just missing the burst of flames that flies from the Horntail's open maw — but not quick enough to completely avoid the whip of her tail and to your horror, one of the long spikes grazes Harry's shoulder, ripping his robes.

"Harry!" You shriek, practically about to chew your finger off with the alarming rate you're biting the tips of your nails as you reluctantly watch on, wishing for it to be over.

He begins to fly this way, then that, not near enough to make the dragon breathe fire at him to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient enough threat to make her keep her eyes focused on him, tracking his every move.

The dragon's head sways with his movements, her eyes unwavering as she followed him, gruesome fangs bared. You can feel your heart palpitating in your chest. Harry rises even higher, the Horntail's head rising with him, her neck now stretched out to its fullest extent.

You jump as the Horntail lets out a deafening roar, her tail thrashing threateningly as she blows another burst of fire at him, which he thankfully dodges.

She opens her mouth and then she finally rears, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last and Harry seizes the opportunity to dive at an incredible speed. You can barely keep your eyes on him with the rate he's whistling through the air, hurtling towards the nest of eggs.

"Come on, come on, come on..." you chant, hands tapping frantically at the tops of your thighs as you sit on the edge of your seat, watching impatiently.

Harry takes his hands off his broom, seizes the golden egg, and with another huge burst of speed, he's off and soaring out over the stands. He tucks the egg safely under his uninjured arm, and looks out over the stands.

You can't help but jump out your seat, cheering yourself hoarse as you voice your praise and feel relief wash over your body like a tsunami. The noise around you is monumental, drumming in your ears like a jackhammer.

"Look at that!" Bagman yells. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!"

The dragon keepers rush forward to subdue the Horntail and you hurry out of your seat, practically sprinting to the entrance of the enclosure. Minerva is hot on your heels and Moody and Hagrid have already beaten you, waiting with wide smiles for Harry to land.

"That was excellent, Potter!" Minerva cries as the boy hops off his broomstick. She points a shaky hand to his shoulder. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score...Over there, she's had to mop up Diggory already..."

"Harry, you were brilliant!" You exclaim excitedly, eagerly pulling him in for a hug and beaming at him. Normally, you'd worry about other students thinking you have a favourite — which you do, of course you do — but today you couldn't care less, you're so overwhelmed with relief and swelling with pride for your godson. "Absolutely brilliant, Harry! Just — fantastic, honestly, I can't believe it, I was so worried — I'm so proud — "

"Thanks," Harry says, unable to keep the large smile on his face down, his face red.

"Yeh' did it, Harry!" says Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Horntail an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was the wors' — "

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry says loudly, so that Hagrid doesn't blather on about how he had shown Harry the dragons beforehand. You give a light chuckle.

Even Moody looks very pleased, the slightest of smiles tugging at his cracked lips. "Nice and easy does the trick, Potter."

"Right then, Potter, the first aid tent, please..." Minerva says, gesturing to the tent with her hand.

He leaves, giving you all a grin before heading into the tent and you just smile proudly after him, rolling on the balls of your feet.

"Oh, he was just excellent, wasn't he?" Minerva says to you, smiling. "The best out of the all the champions, by far!"

You nod enthusiastically. "Easily! Oh, Merlin, I am just so glad he came out alright, I thought I was going to chew my own hand off with worry..."

"He was migh'y," Hagrid says loudly, a sob racking his body as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a large handkerchief, bigger than your face, and blows into it. "Jus' migh'y."

"Oh, Hagrid," you say softly, reaching up to place a comforting hand on his back, smiling sympathetically.

Across the enclosure, the five judges are sitting at the end in raised seats draped in gold. The first judge, Madame Maxime, raises her wand in the air and what looks like a long silver ribbon shoots out of the end of it — forming the shape of a large figure eight.

"Not bad," you remark, clapping along with the crowd. "Must've been the injury that lost him marks..."

Crouch comes next, shooting a number nine into the air.

"Excellent!" Minerva exclaims.

Next, Dumbledore puts up a nine and the crowd yells louder than ever.

Ludo Bagman — ten.

You turn to Minerva in disbelief, matching looks of shock with each other before you eagerly applaud.

Now, Karkaroff raises his wand. He pauses for a moment, and then a number shoots out of his wand — four.

"What?" You yell indignantly, blinking several times to make sure your eyes aren't tricking you. "A four?"

"How shameful, he gave his own student a ten!" Minerva remarks angrily.

Several members of the crowd seem to agree with you, bellowing angrily and booing at Karkaroff's biased marking.

Suddenly, Sirius' words ring in your head.

He's a Death Eater.

You feel your spine chill as you look across the enclosure at Karkaroff's steely expression, steadfast in his decision to reward Harry four marks.

Scumbag.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"A toast!" Dumbledore announces, raising his glass. "To the completion of the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!"

You grin, raising your glass in tandem. "Cheers!" You clink it against Minerva's, then with Professor Sprout's on your other side.

All the staff have gathered in that small room right of the Great Hall for a little staff-only party, the fire blazing in its place and radiating a pleasant warmth around the room. The house elves have prepared a small spread of finger foods for the lot of you — and you've gone straight for the cupcakes, decorated humorously with little edible dragons. They're delicious — you make a mental note to voice your thanks to Bitsy the next time you see her.

Despite the happiness that's settled in you since Harry's successful task, when your eyes land on Karkaroff, sitting on the opposite side of the room to you, talking with Snape, unease gnaws at your gut.

You're sitting in a room with a Death Eater.

You've been in this situation countless times, of course, back when you were an Auror. But then, you knew what was going on. You knew what you were in for. Here, you don't. At parent-teacher meetings, you don't doubt you've been in the company of some Death Eaters, or former Death Eaters, rather. Some of your Slytherins' parents certainly seem to have a fondness for opaque, long-sleeved shirts...

You can't help but remember that night at the Quidditch World Cup, and your brain starts to picture one of those cruel Death Eaters pulling off his mask and revealing Karkaroff's sharp face.

You grip your champagne glass tightly, downing the contents and taking a deep breath. You should go mingle, the time for investigating Karkaroff can come tomorrow.

It's this little staff party that you finally get acquainted with Madame Maxime properly, trying your hand at your conversational-level French. She seems very impressed at this, delighted that you know at least a little bit of her own language — she says something about the 'arrogance of native English speakers', which you don't disagree with.

"Oh, and look at this pretty diamond on your finger!" Madame Maxime exclaims suddenly, catching sight of your engagement ring, sitting pretty above your wedding band on your left ring finger. She takes your hand in her much larger one so she can inspect it closer. "You are married?"

You look at the sparkling ring, glinting in the candlelight, smiling softly. "Yes, I am."

"How sweet," she remarks, dropping your hand gently. "I was married once."

You raise your eyebrows imploringly and she leans closer, waving her large hand theatrically as she says, "But he was a bastard."

She laughs fiendishly, and you just sort of watch, unsure whether you should laugh or not.

"You can laugh!" she assures when she sees your unsure expression. "Good riddance, is what I say. He thought he could keep the company of some girl while I was at working at Beauxbatons — so I said to him, 'fuck you and the whore you rode in on!'"

You nearly choke on your champagne, shocked at what you've heard come out of Madame Maxime's mouth. She grins proudly, showing rows of pearly white teeth. She seems to be finding your shock very amusing as she laughs again.

"His loss," you tell her, chuckling.

"Absolument." She shrugs nonchalantly, as though it was nothing to her but a stone in the bottom of her shoe. "Et toi? Where is your husband?"

You don't answer her for a moment, sucking on your teeth. "Well, I don't know, actually."

"How do you not know?"

"Oh, because he's just escaped from prison," you answer simply. You don't know what makes you tell her that. It would have been so easy to lie, but you don't. Perhaps it's the two too many glasses of champagne you've had, or perhaps it's the way Madame Maxime doesn't seem to care about anything, really, other than Fleur Delacour and the tournament.

Her mouth drops for a second, before she laughs. "Ah, well, c'est la vie. Marriage is never easy."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. It feels weirdly relieving to you that she couldn't care less about your personal life. You find a new respect for the woman in front of you. "Certainly not."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→⁠→ read chapter twenty-one here!

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@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem @jennifer0305 @idkman5335

#sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #harry potter #the marauders #angst with a happy ending #angst #hp #fanfiction #fanfic #the marauders era #marauders #marauders era #themarauders #hp fanfic #hp fandom #wizarding world

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forestdeath1 · 7 months ago

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I see many Snape Stans (I dislike Snape but I see why he turned out the way he did) saying James sexually assaulted him, especially on TikTok, when it’s not the truth at all, we don’t know if he ever actually took off his pants because and it wasn’t his fault that Snape wasn’t wearing any trousers. While he did bully him he never sexually assaulted him, and so many people are now saying this and I’m just flabbergasted, why did no one read the books? Why does everyone get their informations off TikTok and Twitter?

I don't really like this topic, to be honest. But here's how I perceive it.

1. In the canon, as far as I remember, it wasn't even implied that wizards wore trousers under their robes. They all just wore their underwear. And Lupin says:

"Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at Hogwarts," said Lupin reminiscently. "There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle."

"Yes," he said, "but he wasn't the only one. As I say, it was very popular. . . . You know how these spells come and go. . . ."

So Snape not only created this spell himself, but it also became popular at school. So many students were hanging upside down, showing off their underwear.

From this, we can infer that wizards perceived it slightly differently than we do now, and even than Harry. It was "fun" bullying, but nothing more. Even Lupin himself sounds like he's justifying it, although he probably got hung upside down too ("There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle.").

2. We don't know for sure if James ended up taking Snape's pants off. Logically speaking, JKR simply didn't describe it, assuming that he did. Given the time the book was written, she probably didn't intend to invest it with such a horrible meaning. This all happens in the 70s in the WW. For our time, of course, it's SA. And that's awful. But the perception of that time could leave its mark. For example, when I was in school, many things that are now considered "awful" were seen as "not so bad". Those who did those awful things back then didn't even really understand how awful their actions truly were. Society evolves and we increasingly respect people's personal psychological and physical boundaries. What we didn't perceive as SA back then is considered SA today. A simple example you've probably seen in movies, spanking children was considered normal and right. That's how society raised those people. Surely today those same people wouldn't spank their children, because they would understand it's bad.

So it's likely that nobody at school perceived this action as SA. Moreover, James always played to the crowd. And if he really, according to the author's intention, took Snape's pants off, and the whole school saw it as normal, and didn't start looking at James with disgust... it raises big questions for the school students, doesn't it? If my friend did this today, he wouldn't be my friend anymore. Most people would look at such a person with disgust. But James's popularity didn't diminish at all.

This brings us back to the fact that nobody back then saw it as worse than bullying. So the society of that time hadn't yet formed enough understanding of what SA was and how bad it was to expose someone else's genitals. So James didn't fully understand either how awful it was, much more awful than pink bubbles out of your mouth or doubling someone's head in size. So for them it was all on the same level — taking someone's pants off or making them hang upside down or doubling their head in size.

I'm not justifying it, but the wizarding world is pretty harsh. Neville was thrown out of a window, Harry almost killed Draco, Fred and George literally made a kid disappear for a week, and Hermione kept Rita Skeeter captive in a jar for over a month. All of this is awful, but the wizarding world operates by different moral standards.

If judged in terms of our morality, there are almost no morally pure characters in these books.

I especially don't understand Snape stans (I mean I like Snape, but I don’t understand their logic). In terms of our morality, both Snape and James deserve to be punished. Snape would have got a much bigger sentence for joining and helping a terrorist organisation. What are Snape stans trying to prove? That Snape was better? No, he wasn't. They're all arseholes in terms of the muggle world of 2024.

#james potter #severus snape #james potter meta #hp meta #severus snape meta

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princessbrunette · 9 months ago

Note

can u please do a "youre not john bs girlfriend but.." to complete the trinity 🙏

𐙚🐇⋆.˚❆

you’re not john b’s girlfriend but…

he still repeatedly tells you “no, you’re not coming with us today. i — i told you it’s too dangerous and if anything happens to you i will quite literally never forgive myself. just stay home, okay? i’ll see you later i swear.” only for you to show up anyways, the boy grumpily tugging you about and reprimanding you when you trip or get hurt because he told you so. despite everything, he’ll sigh and wipe up your cuts and scrapes, pressing a bandaid on it and tell you you’re a ‘good girl’ for sitting still.

he still stares at you with the biggest brown puppy dog eyes when you’re laying on his board in the gentle waves, your eyes closed as you bask in the sun. he holds the board steady, standing beside it in the water making sure you don’t float adrift, thinking about how you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

he’s still constantly offering you his portion of food if he thinks you haven’t eaten, telling you he doesn’t need it and he’s used to going hungry so he doesn’t mind. you get him to compromise by letting you feed him fries, giggling adorably and giving him an excuse to sit all close with you, which he doesn’t mind at all.

he still kisses your forehead and wipes your tears away everytime you cry, making you feel super guilty because you just can’t stand his worrying. he gets all puppy dog eyed, brow creasing as he watches you quietly, brain wracking with ideas on how he can make it all better.

he still lets you sit on his lap as he looks over maps, because of course there’s only one chair, duh — you’re being as helpful as you can — until of course you get bored, giggling and walking your fingers across the map like a person, making him bat your hand away distractedly as he continues reading quietly to himself out loud from a ripped out page he was studying. his serious attitude is a turn on, you won’t lie — but you must be careful! press your ass back against his crotch a few more times and he’ll turn you around and have you hump him then and there, chuckling teasingly when you cum in your panties, making a few jokey comments before going straight back to work.

he still lets you nap against his arm as he plays on the playstation at the chateau, a rare night when the group aren’t running around like headless chickens. he wears his hoodie and his cap, all warm and relaxed and just so easy to snuggle up to. you’d asked him if you could stay the night, not wanting to face your home just yet and ended up falling asleep on him, listening to him quietly hum in that smooth voice of his, thumbs moving against the joysticks.

he still teaches you how to fish, letting you lean back against his chest with his hands over yours on the rod— teasing you and telling you that the reason no fish are coming along is somehow your fault, just to hear you get all bratty and defend yourself because he thinks it’s cute.

he still always gets caught looking at your ass, but you’re so used to it that neither of you even say anything anymore.

he still lets you suck on his tongue when the two of you are bored and can’t sleep, giggling against each others mouths in the dark until it’s suddenly serious and his head is between your thighs making you cum.

he still gently scoops you up in his strong arms when he finds you sleeping in the hammock alone outside in the dark after you had a disagreement over something stupid like maps. “cant sleep out here, bub. skeeters.” he complains quietly to no one as he carries your sleeping body inside.

you’re not john b’s girlfriend, but he wishes you were.

𐙚🐇⋆.˚❆

#anon #john b prompt

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steviewashere · 8 months ago

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My Boy

Rating: GeneralCW: Minor mention of homophobia/slur (not said)Pairings: Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (minor)Tags: Pre-Canon, Relationship Study, Gay Eddie Munson, Coming Out, Supportive Wayne Munson, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Ally Wayne Munson, Southern (adjacent) Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Wayne Munson is a Sweetheart, Mentions of Eddie's Shitty Dad, Post Canon

Quick little thing here: crawdads are crayfish (I call 'em crawdaddies), jambalaya is a Louisiana dish containing rice meat and other fixings, skeeter is a mosquito, maw-maw is a grandmother, and lightning bugs are fireflies.

🏳️‍🌈—————🏳️‍🌈 Eddie has always been a whirlwind of movement and words and voices. Even in his most dire, most embarrassing, or even most depressing moments—he’s never been one to be unlike himself. He’s like an early morning Saturday cartoon come to life. Not a single moment in Wayne’s new life with this kid has been drought dry, silent, and still.

Tonight it is. Which is odd.

He made a damn good jambalaya tonight. Went out of his way to go a little bit outside of Hawkins. Picked up the juiciest looking pack of sausage he could find. Even bought a batch of fresh crawdads, none of that frozen crap. Spiced it with devil’s intuition and his maw-maw's guiding hands. And served it up all nice in his favorite deep bowls. Usually, the reaction to a part of Wayne’s soul, bared mixed up and spiced to the nine hells, is an excited little wiggle at the table, maybe some comment about how Eddie’s been having dreams about the dish for weeks, maybe even a good natured moan.

However, when Wayne sits his bottom down on one of the rickety dining chairs, Eddie’s stoic in his spot. Spoon fisted in hand, yes, like it always is. But he’s taking pathetic bites. The damned utensil’s not even full. Isn’t spilling over.

Wayne looks to him, then. Pinched eyebrows. Squinted eyes. A purse to his bottom lip. “What’s wrong with you, boy?” He eloquently asks. “Did a skeeter bite you on the bottom or somethin’? Eat up.”

Eddie’s eyes rocket up from his bowl. Big and brown, almost too big for his little face. He’s frowning down to Satan’s feet. Eyebrows, that are still growing in and too dark for his pale skin, bunched. He’s wearing an ill fitting Johnny Cash t-shirt that Wayne knows was stolen straight from his dresser drawers. It’s stretched around the collar, revealing Eddie’s scrawny shoulders and all the freckles he got from being kissed by the Tennessee sun as a little boy. There’s something about him, though. Sure, he’s a little boy—sort of. Fourteen years old and a hell of a lot taller than Wayne has seen for a boy his age. But his face reads maturity. Like he’s been drowned in it. Aged beyond his years. If the fear in his eyes has anything to say about it.

“Bubba,” Wayne sighs. “You been in my home for a little over a year now, what’s got you lookin’ at me like I’m huntin’ you down for sport? Like a damn deer, boy.”

“It’s nothing, Uncle Wayne.”

“It’s something if you ain’t eating you’re favorite dish I make.” Wayne sets his own spoon back down on the table. Leaning a bit on the surface, arms crossed and lax in front of him. He lowers his head to be eye-to-eye with Eddie. Murmurs, “You don’t gotta fear me, kiddo. What’s going on, Ed?”

He’s never seen a little boy take a grievance gulp. A swallow the size of a tennis ball. Out of his beer drinking buddies, sure. And the men he served alongside back in the seventies before he was honorably discharged. But a kid? No way.

“I—“ Eddie’s eyes prematurely fill with tears. And Wayne’s never been privy to something like this either. He’s a happy kid. A kid with a terrible upbringing, but that’s never stopped him from having fun and laughing loud and being a little bit too obnoxious. Wayne misses his kid. His stomach churns. “I kissed a boy today,” Eddie weakly mumbles. His throat is thick with tears and his tongue is three sizes too big for his mouth, but Wayne hears him clearly despite it all.

Wayne nods carefully. Small, but there. “Okay, Ed. You kissed a boy. That’s alright, Bubba. I ain’t mad. It ain’t my business to be mad,” he murmurs.

“Really?” Eddie’s voice squeaks. “You ain’t mad at me? Even though I—Daddy told me it was sinful. Told me that I—That I was going to—“

“Your daddy had his head up his own ass. And he hasn’t been inside a church since he was an awful little boy. God knows he needs to go,” Wayne is quick to reassure. “He ain’t got two words in your business, kid. Besides, you ain’t with your daddy anymore.”

Eddie nods. His eyes point down to his cooling jambalaya. He scoots his spoon around in the few straggler pieces of rice that fell from his utensil. “The boy called me a bad word. I won’t say it, but it felt bad when it left his mouth. Will it always…Will people always think of me like that?” His voice is small, unlike himself, too serious. It’s nearly lost in the wood of the table.

Wayne shrugs in response. Because he truly isn’t sure. “You think you’ll always kiss boys? It’s alright if you do, but is that…”

He nods again. Fast and so sure of himself. A part of Wayne is shining like a diamond at the confidence in this kid. “I liked it before he ran away. I want to do it again.”

“Okay, Ed. Then, you’ll do it again. And maybe it’ll be bad and maybe people will be mean. But you’ll always be Eddie. You ain’t got nothing on the other kids in the world, y’know that?” Eddie just shrugs. Wayne leans back in his chair and briefly looks out of the window above the table. At the warm lights filling the trailer park. The setting sun playing hide-and-seek beyond the homes here. He sighs carefully through his nose. “When you came ‘ere seekin’ a bed, I wasn’t too sure about this little arrangement. I knew you’d be a little rowdy. A lot of a stubborn ass, because you’re like your mama. And may she rest in peace, but she was always playing my temper like a damn fiddle.”

Eddie laughs warmly. Giggling enough to jolt his body into movement. Wayne smiles, still peering out the window.

He continues, “So I wasn’t too sure about you, at first. Knew that I loved you, that’s damn sure. Knew it the moment your daddy showed you to me. Cooing about your mama’s eyes and your curly hair and your ruddy little cheeks. When I got to hold ya for the first time, you latched onto my thumb and refused to let go. Thought I’d have to take ya home right then and there.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head in false disappointment. “Shame I couldn’t, tell you that. But look at cha now. Sitting here in my home, wearing my shirt—even though I told ya to quit that and ask me first—“

“Sorry, Wayne,” Eddie mutters.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I was just playin’ witcha. But you’re here now, that’s all that matters. You got warm food on the table. And you got your dragon game and your funny talkin’ books about elves and whatnot. You got enough energy to light every house in the world. How I ain’t worn out and completely bald yet, I ain’t sure, but I like what you got, kid. Moxie, I think that’s what it’s called.” He chuckles. Glows with pride as Eddie finally smiles, sticking it to his face and not letting it peel off. “But I love you, Ed. You’re my boy. I know damn and true that every part of you is good. You do as you please, but you be safe about it. There are risks. A conversation when we ain’t eating. But, you be Ed and I’ll be here.”

He leans back over the table, reaches out a hand and ruffles Eddie’s short tufts of curly hair. Eddie squawks. He tries to shimmy away, but gives up on it when he looks up to Wayne. Eyes alight with pride and giddiness. Something like contentment and comfort. There’s a flush to his cheeks from the laughter that spills out of him. Warm like the soft glow of lightning bugs. Wayne scoots his palm down the side of Eddie’s face and cups his palm. Cherishes the way Eddie leans into it.

“You promise me that, Ed? Promise you never change.”

“Promise, Wayne,” Eddie murmurs. “Now leave me alone with your sap, I’m hungry.” And he promptly scoops up too much to fit in his mouth. Shown in the way his shirt is stained with the droppings.

Wayne chuckles again and goes back to his food. The damn gall on this kid, he thinks.

——— And sure, over the years, Eddie makes some damn poor choices when it comes to messing around with boys. Forgets to check-in about when Wayne will be home from work, always loud and proud about who he is when Wayne wants to sleep for the next century. Sticks his tongue down throats for long enough that Wayne always worries that the other boy swallowed him up. But he’s still Eddie.

He’s still Eddie when he introduces Steve Harrington. Who’s on par with Wayne in a lot of ways. Loves to cook. Loves to watch football. Likes to take care of his car and the people around him. Is a little bitchy. Likes gossiping about the neighbors and getting on Eddie’s nerves. He’s perceptive about “his boy”—words straight from Steve’s mouth—and knows just how to take care of him.

A part of Wayne wonders what great force brought them together. Something to do with the age in their eyes and the scars on their sides and the jumps at flickering lights. But he won’t question it.

Because they got their boy.

And Eddie Munson is one hell of a spirit.

🏳️‍🌈—————🏳️‍🌈 Hope y'all enjoyed. I had an idea really late and just needed to write this really quick. Also, I'm so rusty on my Southern bullshit. I haven't been back in Louisiana in over a decade. But I did grow up with somebody Southern in my home, and admittedly have picked up the smallest twinge in my voice as well as the weirdest wordage, but whatever.

#stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #wayne munson & eddie munson #gay eddie munson #coming out #minor steddie #steddie

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year ago

Text

blue jeans n’Texas dreams | part 15

“I love you, and that’s all I really know”

A/N: another chapter in the books! I don’t want to spoil too much of what happens, so I guess you’re just gonna have to read and find out ;)

~word count: 8.3k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x horseback riding instructor f!reader

Summary: Joel and Tommy have a serious conversation, you and Joel talk things out and discuss the future of your relationship.

Warnings: smut, protected piv, dom/sub vibes, Joel is a whimpering mess, verbal consent, teasing, edging, denial of orgasm, sub! Joel, oral (f receiving) sex in public (on a bathroom sink) angst, panic attacks, discussion of relationship trauma, emotions, forgiveness, accountability, fluff, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is clover because you’re Joel’s lucky charm, (+18) minors dni!

main masterlist series masterlist playlist

Tommy Miller had only seen his brother have a serious meltdown on one other occasion; the night Joel came home to find his wife had up and left him and Sarah. The younger Miller brother almost didn’t know how to initially react when he found Joel crouched down against the side of his truck with his face buried deep into his hands.

“Joel?..” Tommy hesitantly asked as he crouched down in front of his older brother. “Hey man, what’s goin’ on? Do you wanna sit out here and let the skeeters get us, or do you want to sit in your truck?”

Joel wordlessly pulled himself up to his feet, refusing to make eye contact with his brother out of shame. Once Tommy unlocked the door, Joel quickly climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind him.

Tommy took a moment for himself to mentally figure out exactly how he was going to approach this extremely tender situation. On the one hand, he understood why his brother was freaking out over the news he received from you. On the other, Tommy knew that he was going to have to knock some sense into Joel before he would have the chance to really spiral.

“Alright, before we get down into the nitty gritty stuff, you—didn’t just go and break up with her did you? Cus’ if ya did I’m gonna have no choice but to smack you upside the head.” Tommy asked as he pulled the driver's side door shut.

“I didn’t break up with her.” Joel murmured with his back facing the center console and his arms crossed over his chest in a protective stance.

“Well, ain’t that a relief.” Tommy responded with an exasperated sigh.

“At least..I don’t think I did. Oh god, did I? I just told her I needed some space to breathe and that we can talk when I’m ready. Does—does she think that we broke up? Fuck. I look like such an asshole right now! What the hell was I thinking?!”

“Woah woah woah. Easy there cowboy. Let’s not go and get ourselves all worked up, okay? Joel..can you look at me please? C’mon brother. I just wanna help you out here, but I can’t do that if your ugly mug is facin’ the other way.”

Joel grumbled out a response as he pushed himself as far into the corner of the seat that his broad frame would allow him to.

“Joel, c’mon. Ain’t gonna get much talkin’ done if you’re gonna be a little shit.” He gently placed his hand along his shoulder giving it a soft reassuring squeeze.

“I’m just terrified that this is all becoming too fuckin’ much for me to handle Tommy.” Joel responded with a deep sigh as he reluctantly faced his brother finally.

“..your relationship with Clover is becoming too much for you to handle? Brother, just this mornin’ you were goin’ on about how you want to marry her and that you want me to be the best man at your wedding.”

“Yeah and jus’ under 24 hours ago we confessed our feelings and had sex for the first time. Then this mornin’ we went at it like fuckin’ rabbits, and I brought up the marriage thing again. Then I find out that Sarah called Clover mom, and for fuck sakes Tommy, can’t I just feel for a minute?”

“Yeah, Ryder told me about how Sarah called Clover mom. So that’s what you’re really all freaked out about. Ain’t it?”

“Yeah.” Joel responded flatly.

“Alright well, how ‘bout you start off by tellin’ me what about this is freaking you out? I can make some educated guesses, but I’d rather you tell me.”

Joel responded with a huff as he sank back against the passenger seat, looking up at the weathered fabric ceiling. “Tommy, you and I both know that this is the first woman to get close to my daughter since—y’know. Not only that, but this changes the entire dynamic of our relationship.”

“How so?”

Joel looked over at his brother as if he had suddenly sprouted five heads. “How so? Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I have to now think about the idea of co-parenting with someone after raising Sarah primarily on my own? How about the fact that I have to think about finances, and living with a romantic partner? How about—”

Tommy cut him off almost immediately. “Now hold on just a minute here. You’re makin’ it sound like this is some terrible thing that has happened. Co-parenting? Clover moving in? Shared finances? Brother, these are all good and exciting things to think about.”

“Tommy, what if this is just movin’ too fuckin’ fast for me to keep up with? I’m scared that these inevitable changes are going to ruin the relationship I have with her. What if down the line she ends up not wanting to be Sarah’s step-mom? What if we break up and things get ugly? Tommy, I can’t go through that shit all over again. I can’t come home to another fuckin’ empty house with no explanation. I can’t have my heart fuckin’ ripped out of my chest again, because—because I love so fuckin’ hard.” Joel spoke exasperatedly as he vigorously wiped the tears that were beginning to stream down his face. His voice cracked, and his throat felt raw as he finally broke down into heavy sobs that had his entire body trembling.

Tommy was immediately reaching for his brother over the center console. He did his best to wrap Joel up in the tightest hug possible from the angle he was at. His heart was snapping in half right down the middle as he did his best to try and bring him back down to earth.

“Joel, hey..hey, big brother..Joel, it’s okay. You listen to me alright? It’s okay. I know you love so fuckin’ hard, and you don’t want your heart to end up broken and I can’t blame you for that, I really can’t. But now I need’ya to listen to me real good now. That woman upstairs? She loves you. She loves you and your daughter unconditionally. She’s a dime a dozen, and I have never seen you light up so much around someone before. Your eyes fuckin’ twinkle man. They twinkle! Relationships are hard. They’re scary, and complicated and easy to get caught up in. Change is hard too, but you’re one of the strongest fuckin’ people I know. You’re my big brother, for fuck sakes. You’re the person I’ve looked up to since we were little shits.” Tommy was holding back his own tears from falling as he held onto his brother tightly.

“What I’m tryin’ to say is that you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about with that one. She loves you, and you love her. She’s the best damn thing to happen to ya other than when Sarah was born. I don’t believe in all that soulmate mumbo jumbo crap, but y’all? Y’all got somethin’ fuckin’ real. Like that shit out of those cheesy romance movies that Sarah loves to watch. Besides, if y’all did break up? Man, I think I’d stop believing in love entirely.”

Joel was holding onto his brother equally as tight. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he didn’t have the privilege of having a brother that was so supportive of him. Tommy just always knew exactly what to say when it came to situations like these. “Tommy..” Joel began to utter softly, “I don’t have a goddamn clue what I would do without ya.”

“Oh, you shut the hell up. I will not be sheddin’ any tears tonight! Don’t go and sayin’ sappy shit like that or else I will cry Joel.” Tommy playfully threatened him as he slowly pulled back from the hug.

Both Miller brothers sat in silence for a few minutes, sans the crickets chirping their nighttime tune, and the occasional soft hoot of an owl in one of the pine trees surrounding the property.

“Tommy?..” Joel softly asked as he broke through the silence. “D’ya think..I should go in there and talk this out with her tonight? I–don’t want her goin’ to bed thinkin’ that we’ve broken up, or for her to think that i’m upset with her cus’ i’m not..and I just think maybe I should–” He was cut off by Tommy literally holding his hand up in the air to signal him to stop talking.

“No. I don’t think you should go and talk to her tonight. Now, before you go and get your panties all in a twist, lemme explain my reasoning. I know this pretty much goes against your nature..but you gotta give her some space tonight. Y’all just dropped the love bomb on each other yesterday, and then proceeded to fuck like bunnies for half the mornin.’ Not only that, but she’s probably g’nna spend the night with Ryder and have some girl time. Y’know pillow fights and scissorin’ each other. Girly stuff.”

“Tommy, I don’t think they’re fuckin’ scissorin’ each other. D’ya ever think with that pea sized brain of yours?” Joel responded with a light snicker.

“Will ya let me finish? Sheesh. As I was sayin’, I think that tonight you go in there and spend some time with your kiddo. G’on n’hug her real tight. Read her and El a bedtime story and then tomorrow morning, you and Clover can talk. You’ve put yourself through enough emotional turmoil today, big brother. Tomorrow is a new day, and I don’t need you thinkin’ yourself into a hole, alright? This is your Clover we’re talkin’ about here. Not Sarah’s mom, not any of the other women you’ve been with. You ain’t gotta stress, alright?”

Joel nodded his head begrudgingly because deep down he knew his brother was right. Talking to you tonight was not going to make the situation better. Tomorrow was a new day, and he just had to trust his gut feeling that everything was going to be okay.

“You’re right.” Joel muttered under his breath.

“What was that? I, Tommy Miller, is right about somethin’ for a change?” He had the biggest grin on his face as Joel reached over and lightly punched him in his bicep.

“Yeah, y’heard me. Don’t go and let it get to that already massive head of yours.” Joel teasingly warned him.

“Pshh.” Tommy replied with a scoff, “I would never.”

“Mhm. I ain’t too sure about that.”

When Ryder found you in the upstairs bathroom, her heart sank at the sight of you pruning up in the tub. Your knees were pulled up to your chest with your cheek resting against your kneecap. The water was room temperature at this point, but you didn’t have the heart, nor care to move. Maybe you might have been acting a tad dramatic, but even if that were to be true, there was no denying the present pain you were feeling in your heart.

“Oh, babe..That bad, huh?” Ryder softly spoke as she went to sit down on the edge of the tub.

“I just..I thought he would be happy..” Your voice was barely above a whisper as a stray tear rolled down your cheek.

“Honey, I'm sure he is. Guys can just be..well, weird sometimes. I’m sure Tommy successfully knocked some sense into his head, and then you guys will be able to talk it through tomorrow, okay?”

You let out a deep sigh as you lifted your chin to the side so you could briefly make eye contact with your best friend. “Do you..think i’m overreacting about this right now? Everything was fine until I told him about Sarah calling me mom this afternoon and then it was like something suddenly flipped in him. I was already nervous to bring it up to him because I know that it is a big deal, but I didn’t think it would..freak him out that much.”

“Clove, you’re not overreacting about this at all. I think it’s completely valid that you’re upset over how he reacted to the news. I would have felt the same way if I was in your position. From what Tommy has told me, Joel hasn’t had it easy in the romance department, and you’re his..first real girlfriend since Sarah’s mom left. I’m sure he is excited to take this next step with you, but I can also understand why he was feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, he hasn’t had it easy, and the last thing I wanted to do was stress him out over this. I think what’s hurting me the most is he was so focused on the logistic changes, and not the sentimental value? I don’t know if that makes sense, but he immediately brought up the fact that I would have to move in, and us co-parenting and finances..it just took away from the moment y’know?”

Ryder gently reaches for your hand that is now resting along the side of the smooth porcelain tub. She interlocks her fingers through yours and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Clove, I completely understand where you’re coming from. If Tommy and I were in that situation, and he acted like that? I would be pretty hurt by it as well. Your feelings, and his feelings are valid. It’s all gonna work out baby. I promise. Now, let’s get you out of this tub and into some comfy pj’s and then you and I can snuggle all night? How’s that sound?”

You squeeze her hand back gently with a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips as you gaze up at your best friend lovingly. “You wanna snuggle all night with me? Just like old times?”

“Baby, of course I do. I can even ask Tommy if he can make us some tea?” She gently lets go of your hand and grabs a towel just as you're standing up from the tub. You’re shivering slightly from the slight chill in the air and being in lukewarm water for too long as she wraps the fluffy towel around your body.

“That sounds perfect.”

When Joel and Tommy return to the house Tommy could sense that his brother is torn about waiting to talk to you until tomorrow morning. The younger Miller shakes his head disapprovingly. Joel mutters under his breath as he saunters down the hall instead. He knows Tommy is right, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to be stubborn about it.

He stops just outside Ellie and Sarah’s door that is half open. He can hear Ellie telling yet another ghost story from her book. Their girlish giggles are infectious as a warm smile graces his face. He knocks softly before gently pushing the door open.

“Daaad.” Sarah giggles as she playfully tosses her pillow at him. “What are you doing here? El was just getting to the best part!”

He catches the pillow with a soft chuckle. “Well, I was thinking maybe I could read to you girls tonight?”

“What about Clover?” Sarah softly asks as a frown slowly spreads across her face.

“Oh, she’s spendin’ some time with Ryder tonight. They need their girly time together y’know?”

Sarah and Ellie both look unconvinced by his answer, but agree nonetheless.

Ellie tosses him her book from the top bunk and he catches it with ease.

“You kids gonna make this old man climb all the way up there?” He muses with a gentle grin.

Both girls look at each other before giggling. “It’s not that high up, and you aren’t that old!”

Joel lets out an annoyed huff as he shakes his head. “Little shits. You’re lucky I love ya both so much.” He murmurs as he slowly climbs up the bunk stairs. “Move over and make some room.” He curses under his death when his head accidentally bonks into the ceiling of the top bunk.

When he finally gets situated, Ellie and Sarah are already snuggling up on either side of his shoulders as he opens up to the chapter Ellie left off on and begins to softly read. At some point, both girls doze off, and so does he with the book open and resting flat against his chest.

You’re the first to emerge from your bedroom the following morning. It’s half past 5 a.m when you throw on one of Joel’s sweatshirts and grab your book and pen before heading downstairs. Your footsteps are quiet as you don’t want to accidentally wake anyone up. You make yourself a fresh pot of coffee and head down to the dock. The lake is still with a gentle cloak of fog dusting across the surface as you sink down along the edge of the dock. Your legs loosely dangle above the surface as you languidly swing your legs back and forth. You scribble something down in your book as you finish up on the page you left off on. Your mind is at peace as you allow yourself to leave the present world and transport yourself into a fictional one.

It was around 7:30 when Joel had somehow climbed out of the top bunk without disturbing Sarah and Ellie. He bonked his head yet again as he quietly descended down the bunk steps. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he trudges down the hallway and into the kitchen. Tommy is up and leaning against the counter as he glanced out the kitchen window where he has a clear view of where you’ve been sitting for what he can infer has been a couple of hours.

Joel spots your sitting Silhouette at the end of the dock as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Mornin’ Tommy. How long has..she been out there?”

“Mornin’ brother. Not sure. She was out there when I got up, so maybe for a couple hours?” Tommy responds with a shrug as he takes another sip of his coffee. “Y’gonna go out there and talk things out?”

Joel sighs as he sinks back against the otherside of the counter. “Yeah, I’m plannin’ on it. Kinda nervous if I’m bein’ honest. I don’t even know where to start..” he trails off with a deep frown painted on his lips.

“Good. You should be nervous. Being nervous means that you give a shit. If you walked up to her all confident n’shit, she wouldn’t appreciate it.”

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother's words. He was absolutely right. You would not appreciate him going in and acting like he didn’t fuck up last night. “Yeah, she wouldn’t appreciate that. I will say after you and I talked last night, I definitely feel a lot better than I did before.”

“I’m glad I was at least able to calm you down. I know it was really upsetting for you, but I’m relieved that you’ve come to your senses. You just gotta be raw and honest and talk it out. Let her know you’re sorry and that you want to work things out.” He reached over and gently gave Joel’s shoulder a squeeze. “Get on out there and make up with your girl, lover boy.”

Joel playfully pushed him away with a roll of his eyes. “Alright. Alright. I’m goin’ now.” He took another nervous sip of his coffee before he left the kitchen and slipped out past the porch door. His palms were sweaty as he slowly walked down the dock, and it felt like his heart was about to fall right out of his ass. He swallowed his pride as he slowly sank down along the dock next to you. He held the mug between his thighs as his feet dangled above the surface of the lake.

“What’re you readin?’” He softly asked you as he glanced over in your direction. He watched the way your eyes skimmed over the page you were currently reading. He was trying to detect any emotion on your face, but you were doing a pretty damn good job of hiding anything that you were presently feeling.

“Game of Thrones.” You curtly responded before gently closing the book between your fingers to hold the page down. “Book number three, A Storm of Swords.”

“I’ve only read the first one.” He admitted softly as he nervously adjusted his posture. He could already feel sweat beading up along the back of his neck and below his hairline.

Relax. Relax, Joel. You just need to let her know that you’re sorry.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Joel?” Your question was unexpected for both you, and him, but after reading about how deeply devoted Oberyn Martell was to his soulmate and lover, Ellaria Sand, you couldn’t help but ask if Joel believed in soulmates like you did.

“I think I do. Well, at least in some capacity I do. I think there’s definitely a person out there for everyone. I’ve uh—never researched the topic or anything like that.” He cleared his throat as he rested his one hand between your two bodies. “Why do you ask?”

“Oberyn Martell was devoted to his soulmate and lover, Ellaria Sand, who could produce him no legitimate heirs as she was born a bastard. Despite this, she blessed him with several daughters. Oberyn's demise is caused by his desire to avenge his sister Elia Martell who is brutally murdered by ser Gregor Clegane. Ellaria is desperate to change her lover's mind as she fears for his life, and he refuses to listen. Driven by his lust for revenge, he grows cocky during the duel and is murdered in front of Ellaria by The Mountain.”

Joel can feel his stomach churn with unease as he tries to piece together why you felt it was necessary to disclose this information to him. You could tell that he was deep in thought by the way his brows furrowed and his eyes shifted to the calm lake below. “Clove, what does this have to do with yours and I’s relationship?”

“I’m telling you their tragic story because it’s relevant to what we’re presently going through, Joel. If Oberyn would have listened to Ellaria’s concerns, he would still be alive. If they had come to a mutual agreement, he would have ultimately realized that his lust for revenge would be in vain. While this takes place in a fantasy realm, and we live in the real world, I just want us to..be able to communicate our feelings on a mutual ground. I want you to feel like you’re being heard, but I also want to feel the same for myself.”

Joel let out a soft breath as his shoulders relaxed and slumped forward. He nodded his head in agreement, letting you know that he was fully listening and understanding what you were explaining to him. “I understand. I want that as well..and I know that a relationship is not a one-way street. I don’t want our relationship to be like that. I want it to be a two-way street where we both are able to discuss and communicate our issues.”

You both fell silent for a moment before Joel grew enough courage to finally say what he needed to say. He turned his body so he was fully facing you. “Clover, I am deeply sorry for how I treated you last night. I let my emotions get the best of me and I know it hurt your feelings. I know that you were excited, and nervous to tell me that Sarah called you mom, and I’m sorry that..my reaction was different than what you were expecting. There are a lot of things I wish I had said differently last night, and I know you and I share our own forms of relationship baggage and trauma. I was focusing on the fact that everything in our relationship will inevitably change, and I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t ready for these changes or able to handle them. The last thing I wanted to do was make you feel like I wasn’t hearing you. That I wasn’t respecting the fact that you do have your shit together, and that you want to be more involved in my daughter's life. Truthfully? I was scared. I am scared. I’m scared because..I have gotten so used to raising my daughter on my own that I never thought of the prospect of settling down with a partner who I would co-parent with. I was so focused on the logistic changes that it clouded my underwhelming joy that Sarah loves you just as much as I do. That you have been more of a mother figure to her than her own mother has.” He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he waited for your response.

“Joel, I know that you’re scared. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t scared either. This is a huge step for me, as it is for you. You are the first man that I have ever thought about seriously settling down with. I know there are inevitable changes that are intimidating on the surface, but Joel, I want this life with you. I want all these changes. I want to move in with you. I want to get married and co-parent with you. Change is always going to be scary. It’s inevitably scary, but we can’t let our fears rule us. We can’t let them control our emotions and cause us to lash out at the ones we love most. Joel, we have all the time in the world. We can take these steps as slow, or as fast as we want. We can do everything at our own pace, our own comfort levels. If you’re not ready for me to move in just yet, that’s OK. I’m never going to shame you for your feelings, okay? Yeah, last night should have gone differently, but I need to apologize as well.” Your eyes locked on his as you slowly reached for his hand and interlocked your fingers through his and rested it along your lap gently.

“You’re..scared too? I didn’t know that you were. Well, that honestly makes me feel a lot better..but darlin,’ I want this life with you too. Even if it’s done in an unconventional way. It’s our relationship, and we can make it work however we want. I do need some time working through the idea of you moving in. Maybe to start we could do a couple sleepovers during the week? Just so Sarah can get used to you being in the house more. Maybe on the nights you sleep over, you can drive her to school and I can pick her up in the afternoon? Or vice versa? I know you usually have to be at the barn early, so we can plan a schedule out that works for the both of us. You’re right about change inevitably being scary. It’s scary as fuck honestly. I’ve struggled to not let my emotions rule me for years and I know that I have a lot I need to work on. I think our relationship has a strong foundation, and I wanna build up on that and make it stronger. Clover, you have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassured you.

“Of course I’m scared. Joel, I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t a little scared of the next steps in our relationship. I totally understand that you need some time with the idea of me moving in. We don’t have to jump the gun on any of this, but I think your idea to do sleepovers would definitely be a good way to start transitioning. We can work all those details out after this trip. I do however need to apologize because I reacted to some of the things that you said last night in a triggering manner. Joel, I know you didn’t call me baby to..take advantage of the situation and try and manipulate me, but past partners have used pet names on me during arguments to gain the upperhand. I know that’s not what you were doing, but I still reacted in the way as if you were doing that. Not only that, but I also acted like you were insinuating that I didn’t want to take this next step with you. I was pretty much putting words into your mouth and that wasn’t okay for me to do at all. For that, I am sorry. I’m working through my own issues and triggers everyday, but that doesn’t give me the right to take it out on you.”

Joel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he gently swiped his thumb back and forth across the top of your hand in a soothing motion. “Clover, I completely understand why you reacted the way that you did. It was an inappropriate time for me to call you baby, and your reaction was valid. Honestly? I probably would have felt the same way if you called me baby or something when I was already getting caught up in my own emotions. I’m sorry that past partners used it in a malicious context. I would never ever do that to you, but now I understand why you were triggered.” He took a deep breath as he squeezed your hand once more. “We both made some mistakes last night, and we’re both holding ourselves accountable. I love you, and I am willing to do anything I can to make this work. Do you forgive me?”

“Joel, I know you would never do that to me. After you left the bathroom I thought about everything that was said, and how I chose to react. There’s so many things I would have done differently, but I also love you, and I am willing to do anything I can to make this work as well. Of course I forgive you. I know you were coming from an emotional state of mind and you held no malicious intent. We’re going to work through this together, okay? You and me.”

“You and me.” He confirmed as he scooted closer to you so your thighs were touching. His head tilted down as he rested his chin along the crook of your shoulder, nuzzling his face affectionately against your skin as his arm gently draped along your lower back so that you could lean up against him if you chose to. “Now, can you tell me more about this infamous Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand?” He mused in curiosity as he pressed a feather light kiss to the base of your neck.

“Well, he is very handsome. Might even be handsomer than you are.” You teasingly responded as you gently leaned back against the weight of his arm.

“Is that so? Well, I highly doubt that.” He teased back.

“They call him the red viper, and he has the nicest cock in all of Westeros. Men and women of all shapes, sizes, and colors beg to spend a night in his chambers.”

“Now you’re just fibbin’ darlin.’ Nicest cock in all of Westeros? Lemme see where it says that.” He’s grinning against your skin as he reaches for the book. Before he can grasp it, you're gently grabbing his chin and kissing him sweetly.

You and Joel spend all morning out on the dock until it feels like your skin is baking under the rays and you are left with no choice but to retreat back inside away from the powerful rays.

More egg jokes are cracked as everyone enjoys a late brunch at the kitchen table, and Tommy and Ryder silently decide that you and Joel deserve some privacy in the house to ‘properly’ make up.

Joel is visibly apprehensive as you take his hand and lead him up the stairs. His heart is thrumming wildly in his chest as he glances behind him momentarily. You already reassured him that Tommy and Ryder were going to take the kids out on the lake for a couple of hours so you and Joel could work things out in total privacy. There was an edge of tipping into the unknown when you practically dragged him to the bedroom. You talked things out and were able to reach a mutual understanding of one another but now?…he wasn’t sure what was about to happen.

“You’re not in trouble, Joel.” You reassured him shamelessly.

“Kinda makin’ it seem like I am.” He murmured as you dropped his hand and made yourself comfortable along the edge of the mattress, smoothing the comforter down with your hands.

“Take your cock out and get on your knees Joel.” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand and you watched as your Texas tall glass of water blinked thrice. It was as if his brain was rewiring in a panic because you had never spoken to him in such a demanding tone. He secretly liked it.

“You want me to do what?” He asked in disbelief. Eyes in an innocent almost doe-like gaze.

“You heard me, Miller. Take your cock out and get on your knees. Now.” You raise your eyebrow in his direction challengingly.

His mouth has seemingly gone dry as he blubbers like a fish. He’s obedient however as he’s already reaching for his cotton shorts and pushing them down his thighs. His cheeks are flushed beet red as he can already feel his cock twitch in his briefs.

“Take it out, Joel.” You cross one leg over the other as you wait impatiently.

He lets out a visible puff of air as he grabs the hem of his boxer briefs and tugs them down his legs, kicking them off to the side. His cock springs free and you can’t help but smirk at how hard he already is.

“On your knees. C’mon and be a good boy for me baby.”

He sinks down to his knees like an obedient dog on a leash. His ears pathetically perk up to the sound of you using a pet name instead of his birth name.

“Good boy.” You praise him as you curl your fingers in a come hither motion in the air “Now, crawl to me.”

If he wasn’t so disgustingly in love with you, he probably would have scoffed at your demand and mutter out a ‘fuck no I ain’t doin’ that.’ He wanted to be a good boy for you, so he placed his palms down along the plush carpet and crawled to you.

You were already removing your sleep shorts and panties by the time he had reached you. You leaned over and grasped his chin between your fingers and tilted his head upwards so he was looking up at you. “I’m going to tell you how this is going to go, okay? You really hurt my feelings. I forgive you, and I love you, but I’m going to punish you in a way that is still enjoyable for both of us. If you wish to tap out, I will obviously respect that and won’t push you if you’re not comfortable.”

Joel’s pupils are blown out wide as he gazes up at you. “You ain’t gonna whip me..are ya? That’s uh—that’s where I draw the line.” He nervously asks as his cock shamelessly twitches between his thighs.

You can’t help but giggle as you shake your head, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone gently. “No baby. I’m not going to whip you. I’m going to play with myself and you get to watch. You can’t touch me, but you can touch yourself only in the way I tell you to do so. Most importantly? You can’t cum.”

Joel can’t help the pathetic whimper that slips past his lips as he leans into your soft touch as if he’s been deprived of affection and he’s desperate for it. “Fuck. That’s hot. I can’t touch you at all?”

“No. You can’t touch me at all, but you can get as close to my pussy as you’d like.”

His eyes roll back into his skull as his heavy cock twitches once more between his thighs. “Okay.” He murmurs in agreement.

You give his cheek a gentle loving tap as you lean down and steal a quick kiss. “Good boy.” You release his face gently before spreading your thighs open along the mattress. You reach behind you for one of the pillows and tuck it under your back so he has a better view of just how wet you are.

His mouth falls open when you lick your fingers before dragging them down between your thighs. He’s pathetically mesmerized by the way you shamelessly begin to play with yourself. He scoots himself as close to the edge of the mattress, locked in a trance as he rests his cheek along the comforter right between your thighs. His eyes are glazed over in utter, lustful, pathetic stupidity. They’re glued to the spot between your legs as drool begins to drip down the corner of his mouth and dribble down his chin. He’s yearning for a fucking taste and you’ve barely started to touch yourself. “ya know for such a big hearted lil lady you sure can be fuckin’ mean” he murmurs, whimpering at the sight of you glistening in arousal.

“I know, baby. You just have to be a good boy, and then I’ll reward you.”

He licks his lips as he slowly gazes up at you from between your thighs. He lets out a frustrated puff of air as he rubs his cock against the side of the mattress for some form of relief. “Can I touch myself, please baby?” He whimpers desperately.

“Yes, you can, baby. I want you to slowly wrap your hand around yourself first.” You request as you rub your clit in slow circles, lips parting open as your thighs fall open further.

Your Texas tall glass of water obeys as he slowly wraps his hand around the base of his cock. He’s so hard in his hand, it’s nearly painful.

“Good boy. Now, slowly twist your wrist. You can squeeze a little, but not too much.”

He pathetically whines as he slowly begins to pump and twist his wrist around his length. His face is so close to your pussy. So close that he can nearly taste you on his tongue.

“Don’t even think about it.” You tut as his tongue darts out for a quick taste. “Don’t be a bad boy.”

He breathes out a heavy puff of air through his flared nostrils and it fans your core deliciously as your fingers dip down and gather up your wetness. He lets out a shuddered breath when two of your digits slip inside your warmth. The squelching sound your pussy makes is nearly too much for him to handle as his freehand fists at the comforter, knuckles stark white as he continues to pathetically jerk himself off. His knees ache, his back aches, but he doesn’t care. He’s never been so fucking humiliated and turned on at the same time in his life.

“Please. Please let me taste you. Baby, please. I’m so sorry. I’ll never—never hurt your feelings again. Your pussy needs me darlin.’ She’s weepin’ for me. You’re killin’ me slowly ov’here. Please. I’m fuckin’ beggin’ you.”

He’s a blubbering mess as tears begin to roll down his cheeks. His words stumble out of his parted lips like word vomit. “Please. Please. Please. Clover, baby. This is fuckin’ torture.”

His pleas only seem to spur you forward before you’re ultimately giving in. You slip your fingers out slowly before tangling them in his scalp. He wastes no time to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking greedily as he murmurs ‘thank you baby.’ Over and over again with a mouthful of your pussy.

It’s late afternoon when Tommy, Ryder, and the girls come back from being on the lake for the majority of the day. The girls are visibly exhausted as they head to their room for a quick nap while the adults play a round of poker at the kitchen table. You and Joel are glowing from the inside out as you play footsie under the table like a couple of teenagers.

By 7pm everyone is piled up in Joel’s truck to head out for an excursion. He already told Tommy earlier in the week that it would be fun for everyone to go out for a sunset trail ride, so he found the nearest ranch to the lakehouse, and booked it without a second thought. It was a short 20 minute drive to the ranch and as soon as you passed by a field of horses grazing peacefully, you looked over at your boyfriend with a smile that lit up like a damn Christmas tree.

“How did I know that this little excursion that you have planned was going to involve horses? How did I know?” You asked with a grin. He replied with a little shrug of his shoulders and sheepish grin. “Jus’ figured we’d all enjoy a lil’ sunset trail ride before hittin’ the town for some good ole dancin.’”

Ellie and Sarah, who were smushed in the middle seats between Tommy and Ryder, both looked at each other before whispering in unison, “Yep. They’re soo twitterpated.”

Joel and Tommy looked like proper cowboys in their white tees and blue jeans that did absolute wonders for their thighs and ass. They both were sporting their cowboy hats as well. Man, you were gonna climb your Texas tall glass of water later like a damn tree. Once your horses were saddled up, you and Joel took the lead at the front as your horses calmly walked side by side along the marked trail. You held onto the reins with one hand while the other was outstretched towards Joel. He interlocked his pinky with yours as he looked over at you. “Did I ever tell ya that the sunset really brings out the color of your eyes? Man, are you jus’ stunnin.’” He’s grinning from ear to ear as you feel cheeks begin to get hot from his comment.

“Hmm..I believe you have. At least a dozen times at this point, baby. Have I ever told you just how fantastic your ass looks in a pair of blue jeans? You’re looking like an absolute snack this evening, honey.” You shoot him a playful wink.

He playfully fans his face with his freehand. His eyes squint under the soft glow of the fading sun as he chuckles. “Nah. I think this is the first time you’ve ever given’ me a compliment like that darlin.’ Does my ass really look that good? Snack worthy? Well, lil’ lady, that’s a mighty fine compliment. I am deeply flattered.”

“Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert worthy baby. I will be taking a little nibble on it later tonight.”

He blushes a deep shade of red as he looks away from you bashfully. It’s a good thing the kids are far back enough that they can’t detect yours and Joel’s disgusting flirting. “Jus’ a nibble?” He looks back over at you with the tips of his cheek still as red as a fire hydrant.”

“More like a bite than a nibble”

“Atta girl.”

The sunset is absolutely stunning. The sky is painted in a brilliant hue of pinks, purples, and oranges. The colors fade together like a watercolor painting. You and Joel are still holding pinkies when Ryder takes her camera out from her bag. She snaps a picture of the two of you looking over at one another lovingly.

The ride back to the ranch is equally peaceful and you make it back just before the sun has completely disappeared from the sky. Sarah and Ellie insist on giving their horses a well deserved carrot and brush down. The ranch owner ends up taking a group picture of the six of you and your horses.

You’ve never actually attended a proper ‘hoedown’ till now and boy, did you wish that you’d gone before. The barn where the dance was held was properly lit up with twinkling fairy lights along the wooden ceilings and panels, and a disco ball glittered brightly in the middle of the dance floor. Every attendee was dressed in some form of country attire to fit the theme. There was a bar area and food station, and the girls immediately filled up on kiddy-cocktails paired with burger and fries.

When the music started Joel wasted no time to pull you up from your seat so you could dance together. You’re both out of breath by the fifth song but man, you’re having so much fun you can’t even feel the ache in your feet or your heart pounding out of your chest. You're both filled with bright smiles and echoing laughter as a new country singer named ‘Blanco Brown’ takes the stage and performs his new song called ‘The Git Up.’ It's got all the classic country flare with a pop vibe mixed in. There’s even a choreographed dance to go along with it. Joel nearly eats shit on the last couple of spins but you’re right there to keep him steady as he twirls you around.

Even Ellie and Sarah are swinging each other around in a circle.

There’s not one frown in sight. Just smiles, laughter, and good music.

At some point you and Joel disappeared into the bathroom. He was smart enough to lock the door behind him so no one would interrupt. Your infectious giggles quickly turned into moans as he took you up against one of the bathroom sinks. Your own cowboy hat nearly falls off your head from how hard he is thrusting into you while you’re gripping onto either side of the sink for dear life. His freehand that isn’t presently grasping your hip, is gently placed over your mouth to block out your high pitched moans. “Gotta be quiet, baby. Or else we’re gonna get caught red handed. You didn’t think that I was actually gonna let you get away with your little game earlier, did ya?”

All you can do is shake your head as you cry out against his palm.

He’s a total gentleman after fucking you, so it comes as no surprise when he uses a wad of toliet paper to gently clean up the mess between your thighs before he fixes your dress for you. He kisses your lips sweetly as he wraps his arm around your shoulders and you reach up to interlock your fingers as you exit the restroom.

“Did you just—” Tommy raises a brow in yours and Joel’s direction as you approach the table he and Ryder are sitting at.

“Fuck in the women’s bathroom?” Joel finishes the question for him. “Absolutely not. That would be downright un-American, brother.” His subtle wink says otherwise.

It’s a little before eleven when you all arrive home. Everyone is doing their own thing as the energy from dancing all night begins to wind down. Joel finds Ellie out on the wrap around porch with one of Joel’s guitars resting across her lap. She’s messing with the strings when he sinks down alongside her on the outdoor couch. “Y’need some help, kiddo?” He can hear you and Sarah through the open window near the kitchen, mumbling about how stupidly difficult this puzzle is, and why won’t these pieces just fit? He can’t help the smile that washes over his face knowing that everything was going to be alright after all.

“Oh, hey Joel. Yeah..would you mind? I’m just not very good at this.” Ellie responds softly with a defeated sigh.

“El, that ain’t true. Y’jus’ need a bit of practice is all.” He murmurs softly.

The younger girl lets out a soft huff as she looks over at him. “Can you teach me then? I don’t even know where to start.”

“Course I can, kiddo. I’d love to teach you.” Joel wraps his arm around her in a gentle squeeze

Ellie’s eyes softly light up as she leans into his comforting touch, resting her head against his shoulder. Joel loves Ellie as if she were his own, and in some ways she is. He knew that her life at home wasn’t the best, but he didn’t know the full extent of her situation. What he did know is that he cared for her, and he’d be there for her no matter what. By the end of the night Ellie had learned a few chords and how to properly tune the strings on a guitar. Joel loved every second of being able to teach her.

After the girls were tucked in and Joel was finally back in bed with you, he found himself being the big spoon as he wrapped his body around yours.

“Whad’ya think about adoptin?’” He softly asks as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your head.

“Is this hypothetical or something that you’re seriously thinking about?” You respond softly as gently grab his hands and bring them up to your lips, kissing his knuckles affectionately.

“Hypothetical..but it could be serious. It’s jus’ that Ellie’s folks are hardly ever around. She’s pratically fendin’ for herself, and it ain’t right. She’s just a kid.” He murmurs as he buries his face into your neck.

“Do you love her like she’s your own?”

“I do.” He softly confirms as he inhales your natural scent through his nose, followed by a soft exhale.

“Then I say..we should look into it.” You press another gentle kiss to his knuckles as you snuggle further back into his warm grip.

“Okay, you and me?”

“You and me, baby.”

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