#someone is gonna hate the ending mark my words
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stylesispunk · 10 hours ago
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Silent strain | part vii
outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
previous part | next chapter
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summary: Joel still holds on to the idea of ​​giving you the world even though everything feels broken.
w.c: 9k>
warnings: angst, mentions of murder, mentions of death, panics attacks, fluff.
a/n: Hello! I have to be honest. I don't feel really connected to this story since I stopped thinking about it for 3 weeks. I don't know if this chapter makes sense at all. I went to my drafts and tried to join all the different ideas I had written for this chapter 😭 I didn't want to end this story here and there will be one more chapter 🥺 thanks for your patience and sorry for my outbursts. By the way thank you so much on all the love you had given to my marcus acacius fic that one was carefully written haha ✨ Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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For the last few days, the house had been quiet.
Unbearable quiet.
The air seemed to be charged with some kind of machiavellian aura. You could breathe the fear coming out your lungs mingling in it with it in some kind of joke. Because after a long time of surviving and doing everything, you could to arrive to a place where you could come to close your eyes at night without the fear of being murdered. The dream faded.
After a long time, you felt hopeless and scared.
After a long time, you had to face the imminent death of someone you loved.
Your biggest fear.
You had seen your sister died before your eyes when the world became mad. You saw Tess died sacrificed for you all, and now, you almost lost your daughter.
Joel hadn’t left your side since you were dismissed from the infirmary.
He had been watching you. At nights when you were finally sleeping, he kept himself awake just to see you sleep and making sure you were fighting your demons in your dreams.
It cut him deep in the heart to feel it, to hear it, and to acknowledge. The sight of you, every day in front of the window with your arms crossed around your middle as a shield from the outside broke his heart. Joel’s heart ached as he watched you, your usual force now cloaked in fear.
The soft light from this morning highlighted the bruise on your face, the purple and blue tones reminding the events that had happened just a few days ago. He hated it, the mark on your skin, the haunted look in your eyes, the way your hands shook no matter how tightly you tried to hold yourself together.
The ring he had given you laid on your finger, shining as the only light you could see during the clouding morning.
He hated this. He hated that someone had dared to put that mark on you, hated that he hadn’t been able to stop it before it happened. But more than anything, he hated seeing the fire in you dimmed, replaced by this trembling fear he didn’t recognize in you.
You had been holding Rosie close every day. The grip on her became almost desperate, like you were afraid she might slip away if you let go, and Joel’s chest tightened at the sight.
And the moments like this, when she was lost in sleeping dreaming about butterflies, you were gripping your arms around your middle, again and again.
Joel cleared his throat softly, not wanting to startle you, but enough to pull you from whatever dark thoughts were haunting you. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and gentle, like it was meant to keep the fragility of the moment intact. “You’re gonna wear a hole in that spot if you keep standin’ there.”
You glanced over your shoulder at him, the tiredness in your eyes making his stomach churn. But you didn’t speak, just offered a faint smile that didn’t quite reach your face before turning your gaze back out the window.
He stepped closer, his boots barely making a sound on the wooden floor. “Hey,” he said softer this time. “You’ve been standin’ there all mornin’. Come sit with me.”
“I don’t want to.” You replied, “I’m looking…whenever he comes back. I’m going to kill him.” 
Joel’s breath caught in his throat at your words. The cold, steely tone in your voice sent a chill down his spine. It wasn’t just the anger, he’d seen you angry before, it was the edge of pain buried underneath it, sharp and raw.
He studied you for a moment, the way your jaw was clenched, your arms still wrapped tightly around yourself like you were holding something in. Joel sighed softly, stepping closer until he was right beside you, his hand brushing against your arm. “I know you’re hurtin’,” he said carefully. “I know you’re angry. Hell, I’m angry too- “
You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the horizon like you were waiting for some shadow to reappear. “He hurt her, Joel. Hurt Rosie. And he-” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, fighting to keep it steady. “He tried to kill me.”
“I know,” Joel said, his voice heavy. He wanted to reach for you, to pull you into his arms, but he didn’t. Not yet. “And if it comes to it, I’ll be the one to handle it. You don’t gotta carry that on top of everythin’ else. That ain’t who you are anymore.”
Finally, you turned to him, your eyes blazing with a despair “You don’t get to tell me who I am, Joel,” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You think I don’t know what killing him means now that we are here? But do you think I care? He almost took Rosie from me. I can’t--I won’t let him get away with that.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, the weight of your words cutting into him. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that contrasted the fire blazing for your words.
Tears welled in your eyes, and you looked away again, shaking your head. “I can’t sleep well, I can’t breathe, knowing he might come back.”
Joel’s hand moved to your shoulder, grounding you. “We’ll protect her,” he said firmly. “I’ll protect you. I swear to God, he’s not gonna hurt either of you again. I won’t allow that.”
You blinked and turned to look at him, your eyes glassy with tears. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “If you hadn’t been there, Joel... if Paul had...”
Joel shook his head quickly, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing over the unbruised side. “But he didn’t. I was there, and I’ll always be there. No one’s gonna hurt you or Rosie again, you hear me?”
Your lower lip quivered, but you nodded, the tears finally spilling over. “I feel so stupid. I’ve faced worse before, but now... I can’t even step outside without panicking.”
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his chest, holding you as if he could shield you from the world. “You’re not stupid,” he said firmly.
You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of safety amidst the storm. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered.
Joel kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. “You’ll never have to find out, darlin’. Never.”
“Never leave me, please” you whispered, your voice trembling as your eyes locked with his. The love in Joel’s gaze was overwhelming, deep and steady, like it could ground you even in the midst of your unraveling. In that moment, it felt as though he could heal every wound in the world just by looking at you like that.
He didn’t say anything right away, but his hands cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your skin. His touch was so tender, it almost broke you all over again.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “Always. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
The weight of his words, the sheer promise in them, weakened you. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his with all the love, fear, and gratitude coursing through you. The kiss wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was deep, purposeful, filled with everything you couldn’t put into words.
Joel responded with equal intensity, his hands steadying you as if anchoring you to him. The kiss deepened, and you poured every single feeling you had for him into it, your love, your fear, your desperate need for him to know just how much he meant to you.
When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested on his neck. His eyes stayed on you, dark and filled with so much love it left you almost breathless.
“You are my world,” he murmured, his voice rough with honesty. “There ain’t nothin’ that’s ever gonna take me away from you.” He paused, “No Paul, not even Tommy” he said, finally allowing himself to be angry with his brother for not acting properly when you needed.
You smiled softly, your fingers lifted, tracing the familiar lines of his face. “You heal me, Joel,” you whispered. “In ways I didn’t think were possible.” You sighed, “I’ve slept just because you are by my side,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the vulnerability you rarely showed.
Joel's eyes softened at your confession, the lines of his face etched with worry and love. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms securely around you, as if shielding you from everything outside your small, shared world.
“I’ll always be here,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “No one’s gonna hurt you again, not while I’m breathin’. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He tilted your chin up slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that both comforted and steadied you. “You believe me, don’t you?”
You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I do,” you whispered. “I just... I don’t want to lose you, Joel. Not again. You mean everything to me. Rosie and Ellie need you. I need you.”
His lips pressed into a firm line as he kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before speaking. “You won’t lose me. Not to this world, not to anyone.” His tone carried a weight of conviction that made you believe him, despite the dark corners of your mind that tried to tell you otherwise.
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if holding on to him could ground you further. “I love you,” you said, the words spilling out with a mix of desperation and relief.
Joel tightened his embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I love you too, darlin’. More than I’ll ever be able to say.”
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The days that followed, the tension between Joel and Tommy hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and unrelenting. The anger in Joel’s chest refused to leave and every time he thought about Paul, about what he had done to you, about Rosie crying in your arms, about Tommy and Maria’s insistence on letting him live because he was the most capable doctor in Jackson, made his blood boil.
Joel stayed distant, avoiding Tommy whenever he could. But the inevitable day came when Tommy finally showed up at your door.
The sound of footsteps outside was followed by a knock. You opened the door cautiously, seeing Tommy standing there, his posture tense, but his face holding a mix of determination and concern. He wasn’t going to let this go.
“Can we talk?” Tommy’s voice was low, almost pleading, as he stood at the threshold, not pushing any further without an invitation.
You glanced back at Joel, who stood in the corner of the room, his arms crossed, jaw clenched. His posture was rigid, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel the weight of his gaze on Tommy.
“You’re here now,” you said quietly, your gaze flicking between the two men. "Let’s just talk. It’s time to sort this out.”
Tommy looked at you, grateful for your willingness to listen, but then his eyes moved to Joel. “I’m not here to argue,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of frustration. “I just want to make sure you both understand why I did what I did. Maria and I- we thought it was best for Jackson.”
Joel stepped forward then, his voice tight, filled with a simmering anger. “Best for Jackson?” he spat; his words heavy. “You think keeping Paul around is what's best? After what he did to my family? After what he did to her?” His gaze flicked to you, and his face twisted with pain and rage.
Tommy’s face faltered slightly, but he stood firm. “We can’t just murder people, Joel. We’ve got to think about the bigger picture here.”
“The bigger picture?” Joel’s voice broke through the silence, louder now. “The bigger picture is you letting him get away with what he did. You think a doctor’s skills are worth more than the safety of someone?”
You stepped in between the two men, your hand on Joel’s chest, trying to diffuse the tension that had only escalated. “Joel.” you said softly, your voice firm yet gentle.
Joel’s anger didn’t subside, but he took a deep breath, his gaze hardening as he met Tommy’s eyes. “I get it, Tommy. I do. I get you don’t kill people. But this is not about you or me. It’s About her, about Rosie.” He nodded toward you, his voice softer but still filled with that quiet fury. “You failed us, and I’m not gonna forget that.”
Tommy’s face tightened, but he didn’t flinch. “I’m not asking you to forget,” he said, his voice growing quiet, but steady. “I’m asking you to try to understand. I had to make a choice. And I’m sorry it hurt you. I didn’t want that. But we can’t just act on anger. It’ll destroy us all.”
The silence between them was heavy, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Joel’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the two brothers just stood there, glaring at each other. You could feel the tension in the room, the hurt, the unresolved conflict.
“I’m gonna kill him, Tommy” you say, leaving no room to even think about an answer. The words left your lips before you could even stop them. You meant it, if you were just speaking out of fear, anger, or something deeper. But in that moment, it felt real. It felt like the only thing that made sense.
Tommy’s face paled; his eyes wide in disbelief. He took a step back, as if your words had physically hit him.
“Don’t say that,” Tommy said, his voice shaky now. “You can’t mean that. No matter what Paul did, that’s not-” He looked to Joel, who stood silent, his jaw clenched tightly as his gaze fixed on you.
Joel’s expression didn’t soften. His eyes were filled with an intensity you knew all too well, but it wasn’t just anger anymore.
“I can’t let him hurt us again,” you continued, your voice steady. “Not after what he did. To me. To Rosie.” Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, the thought of what Paul done still fresh. “He can’t be allowed to walk away from this.”
“I get it. I know how much you hate him. How much you want to make him pay. But that’s not the way” he said, trying to open a door to your own feelings and make to see you beyond the anger.
You shook your head, the frustration bubbling up. “You don’t understand. You knew what he did and you did nothing to stop it.” You could feel the tears threatening to spill again, but you fought them back. “I can’t just let it go.”
Joel’s gaze softened at you, and he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. The tenderness in his touch was a stark contrast to the rage that was building inside you.
“I don’t want you to become like him,” Joel whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want you to lose yourself in this. You’re better than that.”
Tommy stood quietly behind Joel; his face pained. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He looked between you and Joel, his hands rising in a gesture of helplessness.
“Please,” Tommy said softly, the weight of his voice more sincere now. “I don’t want to lose you both. Not like this.”
There was a long silence, the tension between the three of you palpable. You could feel the storm brewing in your chest, the fury, the fear, and the loss. But looking at Joel, his eyes filled with that quiet, unshakable love, something in you began to still, just slightly.
“Joel…” You whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to hold onto your resolve. But the reality of the situation hit you, the sheer weight of everything that had happened.
Joel’s hand never left your cheek, and he pulled you closer, his body shielding you, his love steadying you. He didn’t need to say anything more. The silence spoke volumes, louder than any words ever could.
For the first time in days, the raw anger inside you began to dull, if only for a moment. And in that moment, you knew what he was trying to do.
 keep you whole.
You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as Joel held you, his strength grounding you in a way words never could. The storm within you hadn’t passed—it was still there, simmering—but his touch, his love, gave you a moment of clarity.
“I don’t know how to let this go,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers clung to the fabric of Joel’s shirt, desperate for something solid, something real. “I can still feel it, Joel. What he did. How he made me feel powerless. How he put our daughter at risk.”
Joel nodded, his jaw tightening as he pulled you closer. “I know, darlin’. I know.” His voice was thick with emotion, his own rage barely contained. “But you’re not powerless. You’ve got me. You’ve got Rosie. We’ll face this together. You don’t have to carry this alone.”
Tommy shifted uncomfortably in the background, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked at the floor, at the walls, anywhere but directly at you. When he finally spoke, his voice was hesitant but firm. “Paul’s gone. I made sure of it. He’s not coming back here. He doesn’t get to hurt you or your family again.”
You opened your eyes, pulling away from Joel just enough to look at Tommy. “Gone where?” you asked, your tone sharp despite the exhaustion in your voice.
Tommy met your gaze, his face solemn. “Out of Jackson. Banished. He’s on his own now. That’s his punishment.”
It wasn’t enough. Not for you. But the flicker of guilt in Tommy’s eyes told you it was the best he could do under the circumstances.
“Banished?” Joel’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “That’s supposed to make up for what he did? You think that’s justice, Tommy? Letting him walk away alive?”
Tommy winced but stood his ground. “It’s all I could do, Joel. You know that. Maria and I—”
“Maria.” Joel’s voice was laced with bitterness, his lips curling into a sneer. “Of course, Maria had a say in this. She always does.”
“Don’t do that,” Tommy shot back, his tone defensive. “Don’t make this about her. She’s trying to keep this place together, same as me.”
Joel shook his head, his grip on you tightening protectively. “This ain’t about Jackson. This is about family. And you sure as hell didn’t act like it when you let him off easy.”
The tension in the room thickened, the weight of Joel’s words pressing down on all of you. Tommy opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to let you down. Either of you.”
You watched him carefully, the sincerity in his voice softening your anger but not extinguishing it. You leaned into Joel, your voice steady but quiet. “We needed you to protect us, Tommy. And you didn’t.”
Tommy’s face fell, and for a moment, he looked lost, like the younger brother Joel used to shield from the world. “I’ll do better,” he said after a pause. “I promise.”
Joel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you wanted. You gave him a small nod, your fingers brushing against his hand.
“Fine,” Joel said gruffly, his tone still heavy with distrust. “If he comes back, if he so much as looks in our direction, I won’t wait for you to make the call.”
Tommy nodded solemnly, knowing better than to argue. “He won’t,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
With that, Tommy turned to leave, pausing at the door. “I meant what I said,” he added, looking back at both of you. “I’ll do better.”
Joel didn’t respond, his attention already back on you as the door clicked shut behind his brother. His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that had spilled during the heated exchange.
“You, okay?” he asked softly, his voice a stark contrast to the anger he’d directed at Tommy moments ago.
You nodded, though the ache in your chest lingered. “I will be,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “As long as I have you.”
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The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over Jackson as you stepped outside for the first time in days. The cool breeze felt foreign on your skin, and the familiar hum of life around the town was both comforting and unnerving. People moved about, their voices mingling in the air, but it didn’t take long for you to notice the glances, those fleeting, pity-filled looks that made your stomach twist.
Joel had left early for patrol, a reluctant decision that you’d seen weigh on him. Before leaving, he’d turned to Ellie, handing her the silent responsibility of looking out for you. She had protested initially, grumbling about not being a babysitter, but her eyes had softened when she looked at you. Joel knew, as did you, that Ellie’s sharp wit and unwavering loyalty were exactly what you needed to ground yourself amidst the whispers of the town.
“Come on,” Ellie said now, falling into step beside you. “Let’s go to the stables. I think is time to introduce you to Shimmer.”
You gave her a small smile, grateful for her enthusiasm. “Think so? I haven’t exactly been good company lately.”
“Don’t start with that,” Ellie replied, her tone firm but not unkind. “People in this place don’t know what they’re talking about half the time. Who cares what they think? You’re way tougher than any of them.”
Her words stirred something in you, a small flicker of strength you hadn’t felt in days. “Thanks, Ellie.”
She shrugged, her usual smirk returning. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all mushy on me.”
The two of you made your way through Jackson, the familiar paths slowly feeling less daunting with Ellie by your side. She talked about anything and everything, her rambling stories pulling you away from the stares and murmurs. By the time you reached the stables, you almost felt like yourself again.
As you ran your fingers along Shimmer’s mane, Ellie leaned against the stall door, watching you with an expression that was rare for her, soft and patient.
“Y’know,” she started, her voice quieter now, “Joel worries about you a lot.”
You nodded, your hand still brushing against the horse. “I know he does. I worry about him, too.”
Ellie hesitated, as if weighing her next words carefully. “You don’t have to be okay all the time. It’s fine if you’re not. But...you’re important to him. And to me. So, if you need anything, just...say it, okay?”
The lump in your throat was back, but this time it wasn’t from fear or sadness. It was gratitude, pure and simple. You turned to Ellie, her usual tough exterior softened just enough to let her sincerity shine through.
“Thank you, Ellie,” you said, your voice steady. “For everything.”
She grinned, her cocky demeanor sliding back into place. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t mention it. Now let’s get moving before Joel gets back and freaks out because you’re not at the house.”
You laughed softly, the sound surprising both of you. For the first time, you felt like you were taking a step, however small, toward reclaiming the part of yourself that Paul had tried to steal.
Joel would come home later, his expression softening the moment he saw you standing in the kitchen, Ellie at your side, and Rosie cooing softly in your arms. The sight of you holding her, your face showing a glimmer of the strength he had always admired, eased the tension in his chest.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. His gaze lingered on you, taking in the small smile that graced your lips as you bounced Rosie gently.
“Hey,” you replied, meeting his eyes. There was still a shadow of everything you’d been through, but there was also something more—hope.
Rosie reached out a tiny hand toward Joel, her soft babbles filling the room as she wriggled excitedly. Joel couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he walked over, pressing a gentle kiss to her head before turning his attention back to you.
“You been good today?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on your waist, grounding you in that quiet, unshakable way only he could.
“I’ve been okay,” you admitted, glancing at Ellie. “Ellie made sure I didn’t completely lose it.”
“Damn right I did,” Ellie said with a smirk, though her tone was laced with affection. “You should thank me. I could’ve let her go feral.”
Joel chuckled, his fingers brushing your cheek. “Thanks, kid. Knew I could count on you.”
Ellie shrugged, playing it cool, though her smile betrayed her pride. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get sappy on me.”
Rosie giggled in your arms, her tiny hands now tugging at Joel’s shirt. He let out a low laugh, taking her from you and cradling her against his chest.
“You been keepin’ your mama company, huh?” he murmured to Rosie, his tone soft as she babbled in response.
You watched the two of them, a warmth spreading through your chest. Despite everything, despite the weight of the past days, there was this, your family. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but it was yours.
And as Joel wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close while still holding Rosie, you realized that no matter how rocky the road ahead was, you’d face it together.
Later that night, the house had settled into a calm quiet. You and Joel were in your bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the space. Joel sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair while you folded Rosie’s tiny clothes, setting them neatly in a small basket by the dresser.
A knock on the door broke the silence.
“Come in,” you called, glancing up to see Ellie poking her head inside.
“Just wanted to say goodnight,” she said casually, but the softness in her eyes revealed more.
You smiled warmly, setting down the clothes. “Goodnight, Ellie. Thank you for today.”
Ellie waved a hand, brushing off your gratitude. “It was nothing. Just, you know… don’t go all weird again, okay? Makes me feel like I gotta be responsible or somethin’.”
Joel chuckled from his spot on the bed, his gruff voice carrying a note of fondness. “You’re plenty responsible, kid. More than you give yourself credit for.”
Ellie scoffed but didn’t argue. Instead, she gave you a small smile, her gaze lingering on you for a moment. “Night, guys.”
“Goodnight, Ellie,” you and Joel said in unison, watching as she closed the door behind her.
The room fell quiet again, the air filled with a comfortable stillness. Joel shifted, standing to walk over to where you stood. His hands settled on your waist, his touch firm but gentle.
“Got somethin’ I wanna ask you,” he said, his voice low.
You looked up at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”
Joel took a deep breath, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words. “You know… maybe we could…” He paused, seeming almost unsure, then continued, his voice quiet but filled with a flicker of hope. “Maybe we could find a farm. Somethin’ out there, for us to live together. Rosie could grow up there, maybe Ellie could come too.”
A small smile crept onto your face, the idea warming something deep within you. The thought of a place away from the constant need to survive, a place where Rosie could learn what it meant to grow up safely, it was more than you’d ever thought to hope for.
You squeezed Joel’s hand, meeting his eyes. “I’d love that,” you murmured, imagining the life you could have together on that farm. “But maybe… let’s give Rosie a bit more time. Let her grow a little. She’s just starting to get to know this world, and Jackson’s safe for now.”
Joel’s face softened; his eyes filled with a warmth that made you feel completely at home. “Yeah,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “Ain’t no rush. Just… it’s good to have somethin’ to look forward to. Somethin’ better for her. For us.”
You leaned into him, letting the silence settle over you, both of you holding onto that shared vision. A little farm, a life of peace, a future beyond the fight, one that you could finally believe in.
“Wherever you go, I’ll follow you, Joel. Always.”
He let out a breath, his shoulders easing, and a quiet smile formed on his face. “Guess I’m the luckiest damn fool in this world, then.”
His words made you smile, and you closed the small space between you, resting your head on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. The warmth of his embrace felt like the safest place in a world that had taken so much, yet somehow, you had found each other. And that was more than either of you had ever thought to hope for.
His lips brushed over your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, each kiss tender and deliberate, as though he wanted to mark every part of you with the love he felt.
“We’re gonna get married,” he repeated, his voice low but steady, as if speaking it aloud made it more real. His fingers traced soft circles on your back, his touch reassuring and protective. “Then we’ll make that farm happen. A place for Rosie, for us. Maybe some chickens, a couple of goats. We’ll figure it all out.”
You laughed softly, the sound light in the quiet room. “Chickens and goats, huh? You planning on becoming a farmer, Miller?”
“Don’t see why not,” he said with a small grin, his eyes twinkling with a rare spark of humor. “Figure I can learn, long as you’re by my side.”
Your hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. “That sounds perfect.”
His gaze softened, his arms tightening around you.
You smiled, lifting your head to look at him fully. “Dream as much as you want. Just know that wherever you go, I’ll be right there with you. Always.”
His jaw clenched slightly, emotion flickering across his face before he leaned in, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“You’re my whole damn world,” he said quietly, his voice thick with sincerity. “Now get some sleep, baby. You deserve it,” Joel murmured, his voice soft and soothing as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.
You felt the exhaustion finally catching up, the weight of everything settling down now that you were safe, here in his arms. His hand traced gentle circles on your back, a calming rhythm that lulled you closer to sleep.
With your eyes closing, you whispered, “I love you, Joel.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice a low, comforting rumble. “I love you, too. Now rest. I’ve got you.”
And with those words, you let yourself drift, knowing that, for once, everything was exactly where it needed to be.
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A few weeks later, the world outside your home didn’t seem as suffocating as it once had. You found yourself stepping out more often, though each time felt like a small battle. The whispers of pity had dulled into occasional glances, but you didn’t care much anymore. What mattered was reclaiming pieces of yourself, the parts that had been shaken to their core.
Joel had noticed the shift in you. It wasn’t just bravery returning; it was something darker. There was a hunger in your eyes, a quiet, burning thirst for vengeance. He didn’t need to ask to know what you were thinking. He had seen it in the way your grip tightened on your gun when you joined him on patrol for the first time, in the way your eyes scanned the horizon as though searching for someone. Searching for him.
Paul.
“I don’t know if this is the best idea,” Joel had murmured that morning, watching you strap on your gear with determination. Rosie was with Ellie, safe and sound, but Joel couldn’t shake the unease in his gut.
“I need this, Joel,” you replied firmly, your voice leaving no room for argument. “I can’t sit in that house anymore, feeling helpless. I need to do something.”
Joel hesitated, but he couldn’t deny you. He knew the feeling of needing to act, of needing to take back control. So, he let you come, though he kept a protective eye on you every second.
Now, as the two of you rode along a quiet path outside Jackson, the sun dipping low in the sky, you felt the weight of your riffle against your shoulders, silent reminder of the decision you’d already made in your heart. If Paul was out here, if by some chance you found him, you wouldn’t hesitate. You couldn’t.
Joel glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his jaw tight. “You’ve been quiet,” he said, his voice low.
You turned to him, your expression guarded. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” he pressed gently, though he already had a good idea.
You hesitated before answering, your fingers gripping the reins of your horse a little tighter. “About what I’d do if I saw him out here.”
Joel’s hand twitched on his own reins, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And what’s that?” he asked, his tone careful.
You looked straight ahead, your voice unwavering. “I’d finish what he started.”
Joel’s breath hitched, and he pulled his horse to a stop, forcing you to do the same. He turned to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “You really think that’s gonna fix this? Killing him?”
“It’ll fix the part of me that still wakes up at night hearing Rosie cry,” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended. “The part of me that can’t shake the image of him grabbing her, hurting her.”
Joel’s face softened, but his eyes remained steady on yours. “I get it,” he said quietly. “God, I get it more than you know. But that path? It doesn’t end. You take that step, and it stays with you. Forever.”
You swallowed hard, his words hitting deeper than you wanted to admit. “You’ve done it,” you whispered. “You’ve done what needed to be done.”
“And it’s carved pieces outta me I’ll never get back,” Joel said, his voice rough with emotion. “Pieces I don’t want you to lose, too. Not when I’ve fought like hell to keep you whole.”
“Have I ever told you about how my sister really died?” You asked, stopping on your tracks.
Joel froze at your words, his brows knitting together as he watched you. The rawness in your voice, the way your shoulders tensed, told him this wasn’t something you’d ever shared before, not with him, not with anyone.
“You don’t have to-” Joel started, but you cut him off, your tone firm yet fragile.
“No, I do,” you said, gripping the reins tightly, your knuckles white. “If I don’t say it now, I don’t think I ever will.”
Joel dismounted his horse without a word, grounding himself on the dirt path, his full attention on you. He didn’t try to stop you again. He knew you well enough to know that this was something you needed to let out.
You took a shaky breath, your eyes fixed on the horizon. “She wasn’t just sick,” you began, your voice trembling. “She didn’t die because we ran out of medicine or supplies. She died because someone decided her life wasn’t worth saving.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides as he listened, his heart sinking at the pain in your voice.
“We were desperate, starving. I’d gone to trade what little we had for anything that could help her, food, medicine, something. But the man… he said no. Said it wasn’t worth it for someone who was already on their way out. I begged him, Joel. I begged him with everything I had.” Your voice broke, tears threatening to spill as the memory clawed its way back. “He just walked away.”
Joel took a step closer, his chest tightening at the sight of you, so strong yet so broken by the weight of the past.
“When I got back, she was already gone,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “And I’ve hated myself ever since for not doing more. For not forcing him to help her. For not-” You stopped, your breath hitching as tears slipped down your cheeks.
Joel reached for you then, his hands gently cupping your face, pulling you to him. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said firmly, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “You did everything you could. Don’t carry that blame, not for a second.”
“You looked up at him, your tears reflecting the fading light. “She was Ellie’s age, and I’ve carried it every day, Joel. And now, with Paul... I can’t let him walk away like that man did. I can’t let him think he can take something so precious from me and just go on living.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing away your tears. “I understand,” he said, his voice low and unwavering. “More than you know. But listen to me, you’re not the same person you were back then. And this time, you’re not alone. You have me. You have Rosie. Ellie. We’ll make it through this together, but not like this. Not by lettin’ that hatred eat away at you.”
You let out a shaky breath, his words sinking in, though the fire inside you still burned. Joel leaned his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t let him take any more from you than he already has. Don’t let him steal the light I see in you every day.”
“If it has to be done,” Joel paused, “It’s gonna be me the one to do it for you.” He finally said.
You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat as the gravity of his promise hit you. His hands remained steady on you, grounding you, while his eyes held that unyielding intensity, a mixture of love, pain, and determination.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want you carrying that. Not for me.”
His jaw clenched, and he shook his head slightly. “It ain’t about what I want to carry,” he said firmly. “It’s about what I won’t let you carry. You don’t deserve to live with that weight, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it off you.”
Your heart ached at the sheer depth of his devotion. You reached up, your hand resting on his cheek, feeling the familiar scruff beneath your palm. “You think I can’t live with it, but I’m not sure I can live with you doin’ it either,” you admitted, your voice cracking.
Joel exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing harder against yours. “I know you’re stronger than you think, darlin’. But I also know what it’s like to live with somethin’ like that. I won’t let it twist you up inside. You’re the one thing in my life that’s still pure. You are carrying my secret already.”
The weight of his words settled over you like a blow. Your hand faltered slightly against his cheek.
“You’re carrying the only thing I can’t tell Ellie yet” he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken emotion.
“Ellie’s carryin’ that guilt without even knowin’,” Joel said, his voice cracking. “And you’re carryin’ my guilt. I see it in your eyes, darlin’. You’re strong enough to hold it, but it doesn’t mean you should have to and I can’t let you to carry this responsibility.”
Tears welled in your eyes as you cupped his face, your hands trembling. “Joel,” you breathed.
He shook his head slightly, his forehead brushing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to pull away. “That’s my burden to bear,” he said quietly. “Not yours. Not Ellie’s. You didn’t ask for this, darlin’. I brought it to you, just like I brought so much else.”
Your hands steadied on his face, thumbs gently tracing the lines etched deep from years of pain and survival. “You think I can’t handle it,” you said, your voice soft but firm, “but I can. Joel, I’m not breaking under this. You’re not dragging me down—you’re keeping me standing. We’re carrying this together, even if you can’t see that yet.”
His eyes closed briefly, his breath shuddering as he let your words settle over him. “I just…” He exhaled, shaking his head as if trying to push away the weight of his guilt. “I just don’t want to lose the parts of you that make me believe there’s still good in this world. You’re my light, darlin’. I can’t let this world take that away from you like it’s taken so much from me.”
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’ve lost pieces of yourself to protect the people you love, Joel. But you didn’t lose your heart. You didn’t lose the ability to care, to love. That’s what I see every day. That’s why I love you.”
Joel’s hands slid up to cradle your face, his eyes glassy as he gazed at you. “You make me wanna believe we can have somethin’ better. You and Rosie… Ellie…” He trailed off, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion.
“And we will,” you whispered, your own tears slipping down your cheeks.
For a moment, the room was filled with the quiet hum of your shared breath, the weight of Joel’s secret and his pain hanging between you like a fragile thread. Then, as if finally surrendering to the truth in your words, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you tightly.
“I’ll do my best,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your hair. “But I’ll never stop tryin’ to protect you. That’s who I am. That’s who I’ll always be.”
You nodded against him, your own arms wrapping around his waist as you clung to him. “And I’ll protect you, too, Joel. Always.”
……………………………………….
The next morning, you woke to the quiet sounds of the house, birds singing outside, the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. But as you blinked awake, a familiar sense of unease settled deep in your chest. You turned to find Joel already up, getting dressed in his patrol gear, his movements steady and practiced.
But there was something about the way he moved this morning, something that made your stomach twist. The sense of calm you’d felt the night before had faded with the dawn, replaced by a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach.
You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that lingered. “Joel,” you called softly, watching as he fastened his boots.
He turned toward you, his expression softening when he saw you awake. “Mornin’,” he said with a small smile, though there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.
You frowned, pushing the blankets aside as you slowly got to your feet. “You got patrol?”
Joel nodded, adjusting the straps on his jacket. “Yeah. Gotta keep an eye on things, make sure no one’s out there stirring up trouble.”
The unease inside you only deepened as you stood there, watching him. You wanted to say something, to voice the feeling that gnawed at you, but it was hard to put into words. You’d been through so much together, and you knew the risks. But there was something in the air this morning, something different.
“Be careful,” you finally said, your voice low. You moved closer, your eyes searching his face. “Please.”
Joel’s eyes softened at your concern, and he reached out to touch your arm gently, his fingers warm against your skin. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll be fine. I’ve done this a hundred times.”
“I know,” you murmured, but the unease refused to leave you. It settled deep, a cold weight you couldn’t shake. “It’s just… I don’t know. I have a bad feeling, Joel.”
He gave you a reassuring smile, though there was a glimmer of something in his eyes that made you wonder if he was hiding something. “You’re just gettin’ anxious, that’s all. Ain’t nothing to worry about.”
You didn’t believe him, but you didn’t press further. He could see it in your face, the doubt, the fear, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“Look, I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll be careful, promise. I told Ellie to check on you when I get out there. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
You nodded, though the worry still clung to you, heavy in your chest. You watched him grab his rifle and head for the door, your heart tightening as the unease only deepened.
“Come back safe,” you whispered, though he was already out the door, the sound of it closing behind him leaving you with nothing but the silence of the house.
The day passed in a haze; your every step weighed down by the gnawing feeling in your chest. Rosie was a constant, her small hands gripping onto your fingers as you walked through the house, but even her giggles and soft coos couldn’t shake the sense of dread that clung to you.
You tried to keep busy, shifting from one task to the next, preparing food, tidying up, organizing things in a way that felt normal. But it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel, to the way he’d left this morning, and to that unsettling feeling that something was going to happen.
Rosie’s tiny laugh broke through your thoughts, and you turned to her, forcing a smile as she looked up at you with her bright, innocent eyes. “What’s so funny, huh?” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her head, but the sensation of unease lingered, like a shadow you couldn’t outrun.
You carried her around the house, humming softly to calm her, but the tension inside you only seemed to grow. You tried to focus on the present, on her needs, but your mind kept returning to Joel, to the patrol, to the feeling of something wrong.
You spent hours moving through the motions, your hands busy with Rosie, but your mind was somewhere else. You couldn’t shake the weight of the silence. Even the usual comfort of Jackson, the rhythm of life, the sense of safety felt distant. You wanted to believe that Joel would come home safely, that everything would be fine, but every part of you felt like it was bracing for something.
Every time you heard a sound outside, whether it was the wind brushing through the trees or footsteps in the distance, you jumped, your heart hammering in your chest. You knew it wasn’t rational, but the dread wouldn’t leave.
You glanced at the window once more, eyes scanning the horizon. The day stretched on, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of being stuck in limbo, waiting for something you couldn’t see or name, but could feel settling deeper into your bones.
By the time the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the house, your nerves were frayed, the silence between you and Rosie growing thicker. She had fallen asleep in your arms, her little breaths gentle against your chest, but even her calmness couldn’t settle your mind.
You tried to push everything aside, focusing on her, but as the evening wore on, the darkness began to close in. The sounds of Jackson, usually comforting, seemed muted, everything felt distant, like you were separated from the world outside, and the only thing that existed was the growing ache inside you.
You forced yourself to sit down on the couch with Rosie, running your fingers through her hair, trying to lull her back to sleep. But all you could hear in the back of your mind was the warning, something was wrong, and you couldn’t ignore it.
The clock ticked on, and the hours seemed to stretch impossibly long. Joel should’ve been home by now.
Your eyes drifted to the door, and for the hundredth time, you found yourself wondering if he was okay. You could feel the weight of the night pressing down on you, the silence now suffocating, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on Rosie, the bad feeling wouldn’t let go.
You couldn’t ignore it anymore.
And then, it came, the knock at the door.
The sound shattered the quiet like a thunderclap, and your heart leaped into your throat. For a split second, you stood frozen, staring at the door as the sound of it echoed in your chest.
Rosie stirred slightly in your arms, her small body shifting against you, but you didn’t move, didn’t speak. The knock came again, more urgent this time, and it felt like the world was holding its breath.
You slowly set Rosie down on the couch, her sleepy gaze not yet aware of the tension in the room. You walked toward the door, each step heavy, your mind racing with possibilities, none of them good.
When you finally reached the door, you hesitated for just a moment, your hand resting on the cold metal of the doorknob. Your chest tightened with each breath, and you could almost feel the weight of whatever was about to happen bearing down on you.
With a swift motion, you swung the door open.
Standing on the other side was a familiar figure, one you didn’t want to see right now. Tommy’s face was grim, his posture stiff and anxious. The second his eyes landed on you, he froze, his expression darkening further.
You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady, but it trembled nonetheless.
 “Where’s Joel?” The question was simple, but it felt like it would crush you to ask it out loud.
Tommy looked down, unable to meet your gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line. His silence was enough. You could feel your chest tightening, your breath coming shallow.
“Tommy…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You needed to know, needed to hear him say it wasn’t what you feared. But the way he held himself, the way he refused to look at you directly, it told you everything you needed to know.
“He’s… he’s not coming back right now,” Tommy said, his words falling like a weight in the room.
Your breath caught, a sharp, cold wave crashing over you. “What happened?” you forced out, each syllable like a blade.
Tommy’s jaw tightened, and he glanced over his shoulder as if searching for something he couldn’t find. “He… got caught up in a situation. We’re trying to find him, but-” He stopped himself, eyes flicking to the ground. “He wasn’t alone.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You barely heard him over the rush of panic flooding your mind. You reached out for the doorframe to steady yourself, the cold wood grounding you as everything else around you seemed to blur.
“Where is he?” you managed to ask, barely able to hold back the tremble in your voice.
Tommy looked at you, his eyes softening with regret, and then he finally spoke the words you were dreading to hear. “I don’t know yet. But we’re looking. We’re gonna bring him back.”
But it didn’t feel like enough. Not nearly enough.
The dread you’d felt all day was now a full-on tidal wave crashing through you. And the silence between you and Tommy stretched on, thick and suffocating, as your world began to unravel again.
You looked at Tommy, but his expression was distant, haunted by the same dread that clung to your own heart. His eyes were hard and red, but there was a flicker of something beneath them, something that looked like guilt, like he had already resigned himself to the possibility of losing Joel. And you couldn’t bear that. You couldn’t let it be true.
The world around you seemed to fade away, the noises of Jackson growing muffled, distant. It was just you and that empty space in your chest.
Where is he? Why can’t they find him?
“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. “He can’t be-he can’t be gone.”
Tommy’s silence was enough of an answer. You felt your knees go weak beneath you, your vision blurring, and for a moment, the world seemed to close around you. You barely caught yourself against the nearby wall, your body trembling violently as a cold sweat broke out across your skin.
“No”you gasped, shaking your head. “No... No, no, no...”
Everything around you shifted, the edges of reality blurring like the melting colors of a fading drawing. The walls seemed to warp, stretch. Your breath was quick and shallow, heart pounding in your chest.
Tommy’s voice reached you, but it felt like it was coming from miles away. “We’re gonna bring him back,” he repeated. But his words felt wrong, distant. The hollow tone of them echoed in your mind.
And then it all snapped into place.
A flash of bright light, too bright. A sharp pain in your chest. Joel’s face. Blood. The unmistakable scent of the forest. A scream, raw and panicked, splitting through the air.
You felt yourself falling, your vision spinning. The world kept shifting, twisting in strange angles you hadn’t seen before. Memories of Joel, his soft brown eyes, his smile, his touch. They all merged into one blurry mess, until they were impossible to separate. You reached out instinctively, your hands clawing at the air. But there was nothing there to hold on to. Just emptiness.
Was it real? Was he really gone?
A jolt of pain sliced through your head, and you gasped, your whole body seizing with terror. You could hear your voice, but it was distant, like someone else was screaming your name, calling for you to wake up.
"Wake up!"
Your eyes snapped open.
The room was still. The silence was deafening. Your chest heaved, each breath sharp and jagged as you fought to understand where you were. Everything felt wrong, like it didn’t belong. The cool air caressed your face with calloused fingertips.
You were still in your room.
But where was Joel?
Was he really-?
You turned, heart drumming against your ribcage as your eyes scanned the room, your pulse ringing in your ears. And there he was. Joel. Alive. But he wasn’t moving. His form was just an indistinct shadow in the moonlight, still and silent as the night itself.
Your breath caught in your throat as you reached for him, hands trembling.
“Joel?”
You whispered his name, too afraid to speak louder, afraid that it would shatter the fragile illusion you were holding on to. Your hands brushed against his arm, and the relief that flooded you was instant.
His skin was warm. He was real.
But as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed something odd.
Joel wasn’t looking at you.
The way his body was turned, half-covered by the shadows, the slow rise and fall of his chest... it wasn’t like him. Something felt off.
And then the silence broke. His breathing was ragged, strained.
Your heart stopped in your chest.
A voice, barely a whisper, weak and broken. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
And with that, everything slipped once again.
Was it real? Was this a nightmare you hadn’t woken from yet?
You couldn’t tell anymore.
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Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe @callmecath1 @persephone-girl @colmiillo @pedroswife69 @keileighr @capswife @fallout-girl219 @sullyselena @cymbalta-slut @my-tearsricochet
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spkyart · 1 year ago
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— : can you hand me a pencil?
Rei Asaka: The world Is a cruel place, we're all doomed, there Is no happiness or prupose in life, the only thing we should do is DIE because only death can give comfort to my shattered, chewed up heart. I cry ti sleep daily, everything sucks and
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the-acid-pear · 7 months ago
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Something that always pissed me off about DSaF is how it acts like your physical exterior is a moral failing, which is echoed by the characters but only ever reinforced instead of subverted. Biggest L from the writing imo.
#luly talks#started thinking of this again bc someone pointed out word of god said henry looks like that in the game's style (despite being a Normal#White Man) as a representation of how evil and non human he is which is like WHAT THE HELL MAN!!! THAT'S MEAAAN#like changes in looks to represent someone is evil isnt an issue when its 1) A WILLING CHANGE 2) ACTUALLY TIED TO THEM BEING EVIL#see: jack in pure evil doing his jack o lantern shit#like how are Jack or Dave Bad People™ for just DYING.#''the outside always ends up matching the inside'' BABYGIRL I LOVE YOU BUT STOP TALKING BULLSHIT!!!!#like tje only case where i dont mind this is w Davetrap bc the bnnuy shit is a direct consequence of his actions#like a mark of shame if you squint you'll see me wag my tail because im remembering one of my favorite blonde men#im not gonna specify bc its a tasteless comparison if you think of it too long but its basically the same#he was only put there bc of what he did and bc he wouldn't stop it was not an accident or a tragedy#but hell this shit of hating ppl based on their looks extends to ANYONE like Dee is straight up A Good Woman and is hated cuz she. weird#MATT TOO like okay. matt isnt a good person. he has some shady shit going on. BUT IT DOES NOT WARRANT HOW HATED HE IS BC HE'S ''CREEPY''#and pf course the phoneys esp Jake w ''i was a monster'' though that's the only case i can think of where its like#self perception and not some bloke going holy shit you're so ugly i dont trust you#prob more examples but i havent played the game in too long so Y'know.#dsaf
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sweetbans29 · 3 months ago
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Unmarked - CC
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Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Marked
Summary: You were serious about abstaining from Caitlin (AKA part 2 to Marked)
Warnings: needy Caitlin, suggestive
Word Count: 1.7k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: TADA
You weren't kidding when you told Caitlin that the two of you would not be doing anything until all the marks she made on you faded away. And by the looks of the marks two days into them healing, it would be a little while before they fully disappeared.
In the two days, you have had to tell Caitlin 'no' a total of 4 times. It was not like you wanted to, but if you caved that means that she would have won and you don't like losing. Each attempt your girlfriend made was more and more desperate.
You are currently at her apartment for a movie night. The two of you are curled up in her bed as your favorite movie plays. If you were honest, as much as you love Caitlin being all over you it was nice to have some time to hang out (although you do miss the endless attacking from her lips).
Caitlin brings her hands to rest on your stomach, it doesn't phase you at all until her fingers play with your waistband and you feel her breath on your neck. You can't help but let your eyes flutter closed as your breath begins to pick up with anticipation.
"Miss you baby girl," Caitlin says as her fingers dip further into your shorts and you are snapped back to reality.
You shoot up to a sitting position, catching Caitlin off guard and roll to the other side of the bed.
"Nope," you say, composing yourself and fixing your shorts.
Caitlin groans as she falls closer to you in defeat.
"Nice try, but no," you say.
"Babe, it has been two days. We have never gone two days," Caitlin says as if the world is ending.
"It is not my fault someone can't listen," you say.
"I told you, I have no control when it comes to you," she says as she reaches her arm out to try and touch your leg. You move back and deny her access to your skin.
"I know, my body is riddled with evidence," you say as you begin pointing at the marks you can see without needing a mirror.
"How much longer?" Caitlin says like the impatient child she is.
"Once ever single mark is gone," you say and Caitlin lets out an exaggerated sigh. "And by the looks of it, some of these might take weeks to heal."
"WEEKS?" Caitlin yells. "I can't go weeks."
You chuckle at your girl who is now hiding her face in the bed.
"Gonna explode," Caitlin muffles which makes you laugh even more. "Not funny."
"Come on babe, just think of how good it will be when the marks do fade," you whisper as you lean closer to her. "It will be like a whole new canvas for you to paint."
Caitlin looks up at you and you can see her pupil dilate.
You know you were teasing her and she hated being teased. She was so used to having all the control that your newfound dominance was wrecking her in all the right ways.
"But you have to be a good girl for me, okay?" You whisper as you lean in and place the lightest kiss on the corner of her lips. You can see her hands grip the sheets of her bed.
"I can be good," Caitlin says.
"Can you?" You ask. "Because I don't know if you can."
She nods rapidly. You smile at her and begin to make your way out of her room.
"Where are you going?" She calls out after you.
"I'm hungry," you respond as you make your way to her kitchen.
Caitlin falls back into her bed and groans. How in the world was she going to get through this?
It has now been 5 days. Most of the marks are gone and Caitlin points that out every chance she gets but you counter with the few that are still healing on your inner thighs and under your breasts.
Caitlin itched ever time she was with you, making practice and hanging out incredibly hard.
You had started showing your skin again which wasn't any help to her.
It was the end of practice when Caitlin comes up behind you.
"Are you trying to get me to cave?" She whispers in your ear.
You turn around and give her a questioning look. She is staring down at your legs and you laugh.
"Cait, today was the first day I didn't have to wear anything under my practice clothes," you say. You were wearing your usual practice fit as it had to be modified recently because of Caitlin, it really wasn't anything new.
"It's been years," Caitlin says and you roll your eyes at the girl.
"It's been five days," you say and turn to walk back to the lockers.
"Hey Caity girl, solid practice," Nalyssa comes over giving Caitlin a playful bump. Caitlin is uninterested.
"Still holding out on her?" Nalyssa asks you and Caitlin responds immediately.
"Yes," Caitlin says causing Lyss to laugh.
"Damn and I thought I had it bad," Lyss says.
"Don't feed into it Lyss, Caitlin is just impatient," you say as you prep to head into the showers.
"She has been teasing me for the past week! I don't deserve this," Caitlin says.
"I'm siding with your girl on this Cait, you didn't have to do her so dirty and right before a game," Lexie says as she jumps in the conversation.
"You are not helping Lexie," Caitlin says and gives her a look.
"All I am saying, is I would be pissed if Matt left marks like you did," Lexie says.
"Thank you," you say to Lex and Lyss disagrees.
"Nah, I'd be marking every inch of Dij just to show the world she ain't for anyone but me," Lyss says and Caitlin agrees.
"Okay, well agree to disagree," you say with a shrug.
After practice, Caitlin heads to yours. The two of you had plans to make dinner together. You had been doing everything in your power to keep a distance from Caitlin in the small confines of your kitchen which happens to be one of her favorite places to trap you. And you do a pretty good job of making sure she does back you into a corner.
"Just hear me out," Caitlin says.
"No," you say chopping up some veggies.
"You didn't even let me get to what I was going to say," Cait says.
"Exactly, hence me saying no to hearing you out," you say as if it was obvious.
"You hate me," Caitlin says.
"I do not hate you," you respond. "If I hated you, I would not be making a delicious dinner for you."
"Baby please," she practically begs. "I have been so good, I haven't tried anything since that second night."
"You have, you have been a very good girl," you tell her and you can see her thighs squeeze together. When you see how needy she is you want to cave. You want to give her everything she wants because she really does deserve it.
You put the knife down and wash your hands. She watches your every move. After drying your hands you walk over to her and her hands immediately come to your waist. They find their way under your shirt and rub your soft skin.
In keeping her away from you, you almost forgot how good it felt to have her.
Your hands come to hers and remove them from your body. A whimper escapes her lips. You place them behind her butt and back her up against the counter so she can't move her hands.
"No touching," you whisper as you look at her lips. She swallows.
You bring your hand up to her neck as you plant baby kisses along her jawline. Her head instantly tips back as she lets a whine escape from her lips.
You kiss her neck, not putting all the pressure that you know she loves but just enough to satisfy the craving. Your free hand makes its way under her shirt and massages one of her breasts.
"Baby," she moans at your touch.
"Yes," you ask in between kisses.
"Need you," is all she can mutter out.
"Ya?"
"Please," Caitlin begs and you can't help but cave.
"Okay," you whisper into her ear. "Take me."
Caitlin takes the green light and throws you over her shoulder - taking you straight to your bed.
That night was one of the best nights that the two of you have ever shared together.
You wake up the next morning to a sleeping Caitlin. Turning over, you are glad you both have the day off because you don't want to leave bed.
Your movement causes Cait to stir as she reaches over to pull you closer to her. If there is one thing you love, it is cuddly Cait in the morning. She buries her head into you, wanting to block out any light that has made its way into your room.
"Morning," you say. You feel her hum as you wrap your arm around her.
"That might have been the best night of my life," Caitlin says and you laugh.
"Better than getting drafted?" You ask and she nods.
"Wow, good to know I am that good," you say and she pushes you. You pull her back into you.
"And look at that, only a few marks on my legs," you say and Caitlin smirks. She lifts up your shirt showing you all the marks she left.
"Oh, there are marks baby," she says leaning down to kiss the ones on your hips. "Just decided to hide them a this time."
"Caitlin!" You say as you fake anger when in reality, you both know you love being marked.
"You can't be mad at me," she says. "Hid them like you wanted. It's a win-win."
You know she is right.
"You know I'm not," you say. "Just like having the upper hand on you." You lean over to capture her lips.
"Babe, you know you always have the upper hand," Caitlin says as she pulls you onto her.
AN: Here you go! Hope it you all liked it. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
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checkeredflagggs · 2 months ago
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Glazed and Confused
Pairing: Lando Norris x Potter!Youtuber!reader
Summary: when lando fails to make a simple mug, fans direct him towards your YouTube channel
a/n: I took 1 hr long class on pottery and quit. Don’t like the feel of it, have mostly forgot literally everything about it so…🤷🏻‍♀️
a/n 2: I really struggled to get lando’s voice down and don’t really think I did. Oops 😬 will work on that for next time (also plz ignore that changing of the handles. I try to keep them accurate but again I’m not on those social media platforms so…)
a/n 3: I tried to make sure that this reader was never gendered or given a race — there’s one photo near the end that depicts 2 white smaller hands but I think that is the only time. Please let me know how I did, if you could
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Pottery Made Easy has posted
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potterymadeeasy
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pottermadeeasy: my newest video (mugs and bowls, pt 2) is now up! In it I show you ways to add a little flourish and decorations to the pieces you made from part 1!
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user1: thank you your majesty! Easy to understand and so so easy to follow!! (unlike my professor 🙄���)
user2: right? If they either stopped mumbling or spoke up…
user1: might be asking too much of someone born in the 1800s 😭🙄
user2: unfortunately
user3: god your work is so gorgeous. Do you sell anything?
potterynadeeasy: occasionally! I’m based in Monaco rn and a friend owns a shop and sometimes they let me use a shelf or 2
user4: ohh! I’m in France. Plz plz plz make an announcement when you will next have some ready! I’d love to own a piece
potterynadeeasy: of course lovely 😊 vague plans are to have some ready in the next week or 2!
user4: seriously?!? Marking the calendar right now!
user3: you have no idea how jealous I am right now…
potterynadeeasy: dm me! I might be able to ship it to you depending on where you are!
user3: faints bless you
user5: landonorris here! They might be able to help you
user6: be so for real right now. It’ll take a miracle to help landonorris
user7: I hate to be a negative nancy but…yeah. That latest stream was bad bad landonorris
user8: I dont even know…that clay flew… landonorris
user9: would hate to be his cleaner…
lnupdates
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lnupdates: some of our favorite moments from Lando’s latest stream where he was attempting to make a ceramic mug…bowl? It was certainly an interesting one to watch
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user5: interesting is one way to put it. Tragic is another
user6: no but really…that was. I legit have no words
user7: he needs to watch potterymadeeasy! I love their videos
user8: oh? I haven’t heard of them
user7: they’re a Monaco based potter that has a lot of simple how to videos!
user8: just watched one of them! And god their voice…🥵
user7: oh my god right?!?
user5: but are they gonna be enough to help lando?
user7: well they certainly couldn’t make it any worse tbh
user9: you got this lando! Pottery isn’t something easy to pick up - you just gotta keep trying!
user10: yeah! There was definitely some improvement by the end
Twitter
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Private DMs
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landonorris
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landonorris: progress! these ones were mostly standing. I’m not done yet though - catch me tomorrow night giving it another go
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user11: those looked good! Most definitely an improvement!
user12: he’s almost there! It’s literally just the little things now
user13: oh how far we’ve come! In less then a year he’s gone from flying clay to something that could generously be called a bowl
user14: and an “artistic” vase!
oscarpiastri: definitely better then last time
landonorris: mate…
oscarpiastri: you don’t pay your cleaner enough
landonorris: mate!! get out of my comments
charles_leclerc: keep trying! Maybe one day you’ll get there
landonorris: yeah say goodbye to your Christmas present
charles_leclerc: 👎🏻
alex_albon: will be there! And will definitely be recording - gotta have proof 😂
landonorris: is it national bully lando day here or something?
user15: yes
user16: yes
oscarpiastri: yes
charles_leclerc: yes 👍🏻
georgerussell63: yes
alex_albon: yes!!
maxverstappen1: yes
danielricciardo: yes!
carlossainz55: yes!
landonorris: you freaking muppets!
user17: ok but am I the only one who noticed he kept looking to the side and like beaming?
user18: no but I thought I was going insane? Like he was so soft?
user17: yeah! definitely getting the feeling he wasn’t the only one there. Just who are you looking at?
user18: dare we say little lando norris has a partner now?
landonorris
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landonorris: haha! I did kt! A mug a vase and a bowl!! On to the next step - glazing! And you muppets didn’t think I could do it
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user19: woohoo! Congrats lando! Those look so so good!
user20: and those glazes are gonna be fire when they’re done. I use the same brand and colors he did and they turn out AMAZING
user19: ok don’t be shy drop the names plz
potterymadeeasy: those look great!
landonorris: thank you! Had a great teacher 😉
user21: ariana (potterymadeeasy) what are you doing here?
user22: thoughts are being thunk
user23: unthunk those thoughts right now
user22: sorry…thots are being thunk rn
user23: nurse she’s out again!
user21: really? Under my comment thread?
user24: I’ve connected the dots.
user25: you’ve connected shit
user24: no I’ve connected them
user25: god get a life
charles_leclerc: congrats!
carlossainz55: it only took a few months…
alex_albon: a couple of different throwing wheels
georgerussell63: and 3 different cleaning companies
landonorris: I’m gonna run you all over with my car
mclaren: legally this is a joke
landonorris
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landonorris: first round of my ceramics are currently cooking in the kiln. Starting a new batch and stretching my creative skills
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user26: holy shit those look INCREDIBLE
user27: I’m so shocked! I just started watching the old streams so like in the course of a day he went from wet clay lumps to these masterpieces
user28: I’m so so proud of him - I’m currently trying to get into pottery and ceramics and watching him keep at it is so inspiring
user26: user28 you can do it! Persistence is key
oscarpiastri: man thinks he’s Picasso now…but for real congrats lando. Those look good! And functional too
landonorris: I’m only gonna give you the lumpy ones actually
oscarpiastri: I’m good thanks
landonorris: 🙃
oscarpiastri: honestly proud of you. You’ve come a long way
landonorris: thanks mate!
oscarpiastri: I’m also glad you can stop calling me crying about your latest fuck up
landonorris: you muppet!
danielricciardo: too soon to call dibs on that dragonfly mug?
landonorris: after the way you continuously kept laughing at me?
danielricciardo: in encouragement?
landonorris: 😑
danielricciardo: 🥹🧡?
landonorris: fine 🙄
user29: ok yeah good job on those designs and whatever but are we gonna mention those HEART MUGS?!
landonorris: 😂🧡😉
user29: get back here and answer some questions! What? Does? That? Mean?
landonorris: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨
user29: SIR!
maxverstappen1: i see you’re finished making my present but really? Matching heart mugs?
landonorris: not actually for you!
maxverstappen1: heart❤️ been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏
landonorris: …who are you and where is max?
maxverstappen1: I thought what we had was special
landonorris: not my favorite relationship anymore! Sorry 🧡
maxverstappen1: 💔
potterymadeeasy: those look good!
landonorris: I had a good teacher 🧡
potterymadeeasy: flatterer
landonorris: always 😉
User22: !!!
User23: shut up shut up shut up
landonorris
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landonorris: kiln unveiling and some upcoming projects!
listen. when I randomly decided that I wanted to learn how to make ceramic dishes, it was mostly because I wanted to make something with my own 2 hands — and when I wasn’t immediately good at it, I decided that I wouldn’t stop until I was.
Its been a long couple of months with a lot of struggles but I can finally say that I’m proud of how far I’ve come. It hasn’t been easy but the journey and the process has been fun and i genuinely can’t wait to see what comes next!
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user30: I’m? Crying? 😭
user31: omg same!!! To see how far he’s come and to hear that he’s finally proud of himself too…
user32: we’re excited for you too!
user33: excited? For what? Some more mediocre “Art” by some mediocre man?
user32: go fuck yourself. And get out of my comments. And off lando’s page
used34: user33 how about you go get some sun and maybe shove some kindness up yours! 🖕
oscarpiastri: seriously, congratulations. Those look incredible
landonorris: thanks mate! I do appreciate your support
oscarpiastri: and my cupboards appreciate your work
user34: 🩵🩵 ahhh he’s giving away his pieces
alex_albon: it’s been a fun ride watching you!
landonorris: thanks i think
alex_albon: no problem!
alex_albon: and could you send me the name of your newest cleaning crew? They most be ungodly good
landonorris: and there it is… cleaningcrew
alex_albon: anyway i could get a series of mugs inspired by albon_pets?
landonorris: I’ll need a lot of pretty good pictures
alex_albon: on it 🫡
landonorris: in fact I might need to visit in person
albon_pets: yay! We love ❤️ getting visitors
user35: UMMM?!? That 5th photo?!?
user36: IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH? DOES LITTLE LANDO NORRIS FINALLY HAVE A PARTNER AGAIN?!?
landonorris: 🫢🤫
user36: YOU CANT KEEP GETTJNG AWAY WITH THIS
landonorris: 😂🏃🏻‍♂️💨
yourpriv: my love, I’m so proud of you! Putting yourself out there in the world to learn something new is never easy but you have done it with amazing persistence and talent.
landopriv: babe… you know I couldn’t do it without you
yourpriv: oh I have no doubt you would have gotten here on your own
landopriv: no. No i don’t think I would have. I’m a fast guy and I’m used to fast results. When I reached out to you, it was a last resort last string. If it didn’t work out with your help, I was honestly going to quit. You pushed me to get better, to stick with it till I made it.
yourpriv: 🥹🥹🥹
landopriv: I’m serious. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me — i love you 🧡
yourpriv: 🥹🥰🧡 I love you too hun
maxverstappen1: can’t lie — it was a fun ride watching you fail but I also can’t wait to see what you make next
landonorris: …thanks for your support 😑🙄😅
maxverstappen1: you know it!
landonorris
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landonorris: no time for a soft launch. Thank you honey for teaching me pottery and for designing such a bomb ass helmet!
comments have been limited on this post
potterymadeeasy: Lando! We had a plan!
landonorris: 🤷🏻‍♂️
landonorris: love ya!
potterymadeeasy:…love you too!
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lacy-oh-lacy · 4 months ago
Note
can you please do some jennifer check x reader fluff, shes my comfort character and i fr have been needing it lately
Sorry if you've been going through a tough time! I hope things pick up <3
𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐂𝐬
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✦ Jennifer’s the type to “love ‘em and leave ‘em” but that's just how she's been conditioned to act. Deep down she's a romantic and if you actually put effort into wooing her she’ll be smitten.
✦ She's not always a good person to have in your life, dating her is quite the rollercoaster, but she is a loyal and devoted girlfriend. She's the ride-or-die type.
✦ She tries so hard to act cool and detached but the longer you date the clingier she gets. She's very starved for affection and that will become your problem to fix.
✦ She loves to be spoiled, if you're not spending at least half of your paycheck on her, what are you doing?
✦ But actually she buys you things all the time too, she notices something cute she'd like to see you wear, or a trinket that reminds her of you and it's yours.
✦ She really appreciates words of affirmation, even though she can't respond to them seriously, usually just rolling her eyes and saying “Duh.” or something similar.
✦ She has no filter, so get used to her casual insults, and many dirty things said at inappropriate times.
✦ She hypes you up just as much as she teases you. She's actually your biggest cheerleader.
✦ She's the jealous type. She's possessive, suspicious, and if she has even a hunch that someone else wants you they're probably gonna end up on a missing person poster.
✦ Speaking of possessive, she does everything she can to mark you as hers. Buying you the same perfume that she uses, matching jewelry, insisting you wear her jacket, covering you in hickeys and so on.
✦ Though she hates the feeling of being jealous herself, she tries to make you jealous almost every time she's upset with you. She's just ✨toxic✨ like that.
Masterlist | Gif source
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slasherscream · 4 months ago
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I love your writing! And you just get my craziness and character obsessions. I was thinking what would happen if reader had a bruise cheek or lip, and refuse to tell them what happen. Then they discover that the reader was the one who beat the shit out of someone for saying something about their partner, and how proud yet pissed off they will be. I’m think Crazy Ass Girls Gang, need more possessive and protective FMC. Thank you!
warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
Tiffany Valentine - Tricks you into thinking she’s gonna be normal about it. She purses her lips when you won’t tell her anything, but quietly rushes off to get the first-aid kit. WATCH OUT! You have just activated a trap card: emotional manipulation. Her most powerful weapon. She’ll silently and dotingly take care of you. Disinfectant. Gentle Hands. Careful bandaging. Petulant silence. Painkillers lovingly dropped in your hand. Big sad eyes staring up at you. When you inevitably break and tell her what happened she could melt! She does melt, straight into your arms. You’re gonna be covered in lipstick by the time she’s through with you. Her hero. Don’t worry, she’ll help you clean up… eventually. Later, you’ll have to help her clean up too. It was so romantic of you to fight for her honor…. But she'd never let someone live after they hurt you, silly.
Jordan Li - Won’t drop the line of questioning until you’re damn near ready to fight her too. She hates that you’re hurt. She loves that you wanted to defend her. Jordan gets a lot of criticism, sometimes it seems never ending. The fact that you feel so strongly about protecting her, not because you think she can’t fight her own battles… but because she shouldn’t have to do it all alone? It means a lot. Still, she doesn’t want you getting into fights. Let alone fights over her. It doesn’t matter how badly you hurt the other person. If there are marks on you Jordan is going to go find them for round two. “You like to put hands on people?” Words spoken seconds before disaster (she’s ignoring the fact that you started the fight. Jordan could give a shit about semantics.)
Nancy Downs - Don’t wanna tell her? Cool! Get ready to experience her favorite couple’s activity besides shoplifting: abusing your coven bond to read your mind! Hooray! It will hurt badly. Because Nancy always makes it hurt when you keep her out on purpose, or hide things from her (or when she thinks you’re doing that.) But don’t worry, after she realizes how sweet you really were, she’ll make you feel all better. Cooing over you as much as she ever allows herself to coo. Cleaning your cuts. Healing you with her magic. Trying to ease the fever that always comes whenever she uses your bond in a way she shouldn’t. She thinks you’re the stupidest, sweetest thing. You’re witches. You don’t have to use your fists anymore to win fights. She leaves you with the coven and goes to enact a witch’s vengeance on whoever dared to lay a finger on you. 
Jennifer Check - You’ll try not to tell her but she immediately starts making such wild accusations you have to just come out and admit to why you’re injured. “I can smell someone on you. If you wanted to get beat up to get your rocks off you should’ve just told me, I’d happily beat the shit out of you.” Start talking quickly! She looks like she’s about to start fulfilling that nonexistent wish now. Once you tell her she has to suppress a smile. She’s a demon. She doesn’t need you playing knight in shining armor over what some jealous, mouth-breathing, loser is saying about her… but, it’s kinda hot that you did. She’ll show you just how hot she thinks it is. Then you two are gonna take a nice little drive, and you’re gonna point out the jackass who put bruises on you. She’ll fuck you again after she’s full. “Thanks for finding my next meal, baby.” 
Victoria Neuman - Victoria expects you to have better self control than this. Not telling her what happened isn’t an option. Ever. The look on her face when you first try and insist that nothing happened is enough for you to quietly admit you got into a fight. Her blood pressure sky-rockets. You two have an image to maintain. You’re her spouse. She has enough problems as it is. She’s thinking of viral videos, nightly news, seedy gossip magazines doing think-pieces: do we really want this person standing behind the president as first spouse? When you tell her you fought one of the Boys for trying to convince you she’s a monster? Well…. She goes a little softer. Victoria will pull you into the circle of her arms and thank you for being so loyal to her. She means it from the bottom of her heart. She’s also dreaming of the day she can pop their fucking heads. Touching you. Talking to you. Trying to turn you against her… they’ve crossed her last line. 
Carrie White - The moment she sees you she’s in hysterics: “Oh, Angel, what happened?!” You’re really gonna sit there and not tell her anything? She’s worked herself into an anxiety attack within seconds. She can hardly open the first aid kit, she’s shaking so bad. The sound of your voice is always so soothing for her that you’ll start telling her the story just to have something to say. She listens quietly while she cleans you up. You’ll have to pull her into your lap before long, and kiss her gently. You’re all she has in the world and it scares her to death to think of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You’ll fall asleep curled into each other’s arms. You whisper soft reassurances: “Nothing’s gonna happen to me / I’ll always be here.” Carrie tries her best to listen. You’ll wake up alone, but wander downstairs just as Carrie walks through the front door. She wanted to get her knight in shining armor some breakfast from your favorite diner down the street. She watches you eat with a big smile, and thinks about how she’ll have to burn those clothes in the trunk of the car. She couldn't risk them trying to hurt you again.
Ginger Fitzgerald - Don’t piss her off. If you don’t tell her exactly who touched you she’ll rip the entire city apart. Women, children, men, everyone. Anyone. “Do you want me to do that? Huh, baby? Is that what you want me to do?” No? Then start talking. She won’t be able to see through the blood-lust long enough to take care of you. As soon as you say a name Ginger’s out the door. She’ll only return once she’s thoroughly covered in viscera and gore. She’s still dripping with it when she crawls into bed with you, smearing the blood across your body. She’ll lick at any injury you have, until they’re clean and closed, your skin smooth and unblemished. She’s the only thing that can leave marks on you. She’ll kill anything else that tries. “You don’t have to lift a finger for me, baby. If you want someone hurt, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.” Just run your fingers through her hair and try not to cringe as your fingertips get stained red. 
Patricia (Split) - She’s devastated by the state you come home in after she allows you to go out on a walk all by yourself for the first time since you were…. taken. You’d been so good for her. So obedient. So sweet. She wanted to reward you. And now your eye is starting to bruise, and your clothes are all askew, and your knuckles are swollen. Her calm demeanor cracks, and it’s a struggle to stay in the light. She takes deep breaths, centers herself. None of the others are what you need, right now. You need her. She strips you down, runs you a bath, won’t even let you hold the washcloth. It’s only as she’s patting you dry that she can force out words, finally: “What happened to you, sweet thing, hmm?” The guilt nearly brings her to tears. Months of keeping you close and look at what just a pinch of negligence has done to you… You try to assuage her guilt. You tell her you ran into a neighbor, who’d seen the two of you out together once Patricia trusted you enough to accompany her for little things like grocery trips. You say it’s your fault you came back to her in this condition. That you just couldn’t stand the vile things they said about her. Her face drops into an expression you’ve never seen. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by that comforting, ever present smile she wears for you. She takes you by the chin and kisses your forehead: “My little sweet thing. Playing knight, are you?” You had her love before. Tentatively, you had something like trust. Now Patricia trusts you completely. Even so, you won’t be going out alone again. Patricia trusts you. But it’s clear she can’t trust the world to be gentle with you. Don’t worry, though. All you need to do is ask, when you want to feel the sun on your face. You never see that neighbor again, no matter what time of day you and Patricia go walking.
A/N: thank you!!! we need more batshit crazy women with something wrong with them! Batshit crazy women with something wrong with them unite! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo
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exhaslo · 1 year ago
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hey in the mean time I wanted to request something sweet but spicy 😋, so what about (collage?)
Bully!miguel ? X a nobody!fem reader (like someone that the popular kids doesn’t even know about or care into that much offend 😔 and is often bullied by different people and get in the middle of the fight, well tried not to and only get push,nudge, or whatever) and Miguel who is a bullied nerd and saw her one day that catch his eyes it was reader who’s was running into her next period.
Smut pls and fluff PLS 😭🙏 (love any ending 🫶😼) HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY! bye eshalo (I think I spelled it wrong 😔 I’m sorry)
Okay, I think I got a unique idea for this. Gonna spice it up a bit if that's okay~ ;)
Summary: The biggest bully in school had got his eye on the 'ghost' of the college.
Warning: Minors DNI, bullying, smut, fingering, oral (f-receiving)
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There was a popular rumor throughout the college of a ghost that wandered the halls. At first, many people did not believe it since the rumor had only begun a year ago; but, as the weeks passed more and more people saw the ghost. It became a game after two months. Whoever can catch the ghost will win a prize.
It was all fun and games until you found out that you were the ghost. The tears that streamed down your face that night were heavy. You knew that you avoided people and didn't like to get involved, but to be called a ghost. This was worse than the bullying you had throughout middle school and high school.
It only got worse from there. You were afraid to do anything. Every time you stepped out of your private dorm, people could claim they saw the ghost and tried to catch you. You nearly weep every time you even tried to go study. It was all a joke to everyone.
"I hate this," You cried softly as you sat in the staircase of your dorm building.
"Hate what?"
"Being called the ghost." You whimpered. It took you a moment before gasping, "W-Who's there?"
You rubbed your eyes as Miguel walked up the stairs. Your eyes widen in shock. The college's biggest bully stood right below you. His tall and overwhelming features standing out. He gave you a cold stare as he observed you from head to toe.
"You're a pretty cute ghost,"
Miguel smirked as he watched you flinch. Truth be told, Miguel knew exactly who you were. He had his eyes on you since you started this college. Miguel had bullied a lot of people, but watching you get bullied erked him. He wanted to be the shoulder for you to cry on, but how could he approach you? He already had a bad reputation.
"Y-You're-"
"Miguel O'Hara, pleasure to meet you."
Within an instant, Miguel hovered before you. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. You withdrew your hand, walking backwards towards the wall. Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you tried to come up with words. He was too close.
"So the ghost can be touched," Miguel said with a smug grin. You bit your lower lip,
"I-I'm not a ghost!"
"I know you're not," Miguel had your back pressed against the wall, "I've had my eye on you for a while now. I want to get to know you. Will you let me do that?"
You gulped as you looked up into his eyes. The biggest threat in this campus wanted to get close to you? As scared as you were, you couldn't help but agree. This was going to be your way of having protection. Besides, Miguel was good looking. Perhaps with him around, you wouldn't be called a ghost anymore.
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It had only been a month since Miguel became your personal bodyguard as you called it. He stuck by your side like glue, keeping you company and helping you avoid those pranksters. You loved having Miguel by yourself. He made you laugh and helped you come out of your shell. Not to mention he was hot. You had dreamed about him far too many times to count, but it wasn't like you were going to make a move anytime soon.
Miguel on the other hand was holding back so much. He wanted to press you against a wall and ravish you with kisses. He wanted to mark you as his. To make you scream his name. Miguel was ready to go all primal on you. Every time he hung out with you, he had to take care of his erection afterwards. You were just so quiet, so shy. He loved hearing your voice.
Today was going to be like any other day. Miguel had already taken care of some annoying pests and was ready to destress with you. He made his way over to your dorm, imagining the smile on your face. Right as he walked up the stairs, he heard sobbing. Those sobs belonged to you!
"(Y/N)! What's wrong?" Miguel asked.
You whimpered, rubbing your eyes as Miguel stood before you. You could see the anger on his face as he slowly approached you, taking the net off your head. He bend down and stroked your cheek before taking off some of the rope that got tangled around your arms and legs.
"I-I just...I just went to check on my mail..." You cried softly. Miguel shushed you, helping you up, "T-They just laughed."
"C'mon, let's go into your room."
Miguel took your key and opened your door. He let you in first before following and shutting the door behind. With a quick lock, he approached you once more and wiped your tears away.
"Don't cry, (Y/n)."
"But Miguel, they still think I'm a ghost." You whimpered. Miguel let out a soft sigh as he leaned forward, kissing you,
"Can I do that to a ghost?"
"N-No?"
"What about this?"
Miguel's hand stroked down your sides as he kept kissing you. You're sad whimpers turned into pleasure ones as Miguel cheered you up. His soft touch was not what you were expecting. It sent shivers up your spine. His tongue licked your lips, demanding entrance. You obeyed, allowing him to bully you for once.
Miguel liked how easily you gave in. His gaze met with yours as he slid your shorts down. His bulge making contact with your panties, grinding against you softly. He didn't want to take things too far, but who knows what will happen. Miguel watched you gasp, holding onto his arms as he moved his hips against yours.
"Can a ghost feel this?" Miguel groaned lowly, his fingers rubbing circles against your clit.
"N-No~"
"Good. I'm going to treat you right, (Y/N). I'll show those guys that they messed with the wrong person. You're my girl."
"H-Hah~ Miguel~"
You whimpered a moan as you moved your hips against his hand. Your back arched against the bed as his fingers started to pump inside your tight gummy walls. His fingers alone were stretching you out. It made your vision blur slightly as you became overwhelmed with pleasure. Each pump and curl of his fingers made the knot in your stomach tighten.
Miguel licked his lips as he took your panties off, throwing them across your room. He watched as your juices spilled over his hand once he made you cum. Your face was red with embarrassment. It was cute. Miguel took his fingers out, giving them a lick,
"Ghosts can't be this cute or red in the face," He teased.
"M-Miguel." You stuttered, trying to hide your face.
Miguel only responded with a hum as he spread your legs. You tried to protest, but gasped loudly as he flicked his tongue against your clit. You arched your back, moaning his name as Miguel held you in place. His tongue swirling around your folds, giving each part of you a taste. No ghost could taste this sweet. No ghost could moan this deliciously.
"M-Mig!"
Your cries were music to his ears. Miguel was going to make this school regret bullying you. You were his. Miguel lapped up your juices as you cam against his tongue. Your throbbing pussy was just asking to be filled, but that had to wait. Miguel had already pushed you to your limit for today.
"Rest up, (Y/n). I promise I'll make you feel even better next time, but I have to teach someone a lesson," Miguel hummed as he licked his lips. You were a panting mess against your bed,
"B-But-"
"I won't let anyone bully you again. You're my girl. Now stay here until I get back. I'm going to finish this later."
You just nodded and blushed madly as you saw his tight erection against his pants. Covering your face, you watched as Miguel left your room with his head held high. You whimpered quietly, still flustered from the orgasm he gave you,
"I'm your ghost~"
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Hope you liked the twist I did with your prompt!!
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chukys-mouthguard · 3 months ago
Text
aperol spritz
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
5.3k words | not proofread
featuring: william nylander x female reader
warnings: sexually explicit content, minors DNI, 18+; choking, spanking, hair pulling, daddy kink, marking, overstimulation, slight degradation, squirting, p in v, oral (female and male receiving) - aka LOTS of smut!
summary: after a shitty breakup your friends take you on a girls trip where they’re desperately trying to help you find a vacay fling, and william just might be the man for the job
note: i have no clue how this ended up where it did, but i hope you enjoy 🙈
You swirled your finger around the rim of your glass, listening intently to your friend as she told you about the interaction she’d just had with some guy at the bar. The music blasting throughout the small club as you’d downed about seven drinks at this point. A good buzz going through your body as you watched the crowd, the dance floor a bit too packed for your liking. Preferring to people watch as you sipped your drinks.
It was night four of your girls trip to Ibiza, and you’d yet to find a nice vacation fling like you’d hoped. Your friends were trying to get your mind off a harsh breakup with the spontaneous trip, and one of their goals to put it plainly was for you to get laid. While you weren’t desperate, something about the idea of meeting a stranger and having one or two amazing nights with them, then never having to cross paths or worry about seeing them again was intriguing.
Your friends noticed you eyeing the crowd, giggling to themselves at how you were trying not to be obvious about wanting to find yourself some eye candy.
“Y/n, at this point if he’s got all his teeth and buys you a drink, I say go for it.”
Shaking your head you rolled your eyes, tossing back the rest of your drink. Not having noticed the blue eyes that had been stuck on you for the last twenty minutes.
A blonde haired man sitting at the end of the bar sipping his drink as he watched you and your friends. Seeing the way you eyed the crowd, as if looking for someone. But only ending up discouraged as you hadn’t found what you were looking for.
“Sorry to say girls, I have a bit more I require if anyone is getting their hands on me.”
They both sighed, hating how picky you were despite the need to be touched by a man.
“Y/n, come on, you just need one night to let your freak run wild and not be worried about ever seeing the guy again. While I understand wanting the guy to be attractive, if he’s got the equipment, I think you need to lower the expectations.”
Sliding from the booth with a laugh, you excused yourself to the bar for another drink.
The blonde haired man saw you get up and knew this was his chance to make a move, hoping that you’d give him the time of day as he could sense you’d be tough to crack. He watched as you looked for an open space at the bar, the only one next to him as he locked eyes with you, inviting you to take the spot.
You offered him a smile as you tucked some hair behind your ear, tapping your nails against the bar as you waited for a bartender to come your way.
“Aperol Spritz?”
You looked to the blonde at your right, a confused look on your face as you watched him sip his drink.
“I’m sorry?”
“I saw you from across the way, I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t drinking what every other girl in here was. So, I’m taking a guess, Aperol Spritz?”
You playfully bit your lip, not sure if that was a bad thing that he’d been able to know your drink order, but part of you didn’t mind either way. A hot guy at the bar, if not the hottest you’d seen all night, appeared interested in you and you would let him guess anything he wanted about you.
“Well, you would be correct. It’s been my go-to the entire time I’ve been out here. And if I had to guess for you.”
Eyeing his glass you smirked as his eyes were focused on you, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you study his drink.
“Hmm, I’m gonna guess you’re a vodka soda guy?”
He shook his head no as he pulled the glass to his lips, taking a sip before he answered.
“It’s a spin on a traditional mule, some people don’t like it. It’s a little spicy with some lime.”
The drink sounded interesting, and you were inclined to try and see what his taste was like. Still waiting for the bartender as the blonde extended a hand to you.
“I’m William.”
“Y/n, nice to meet you.”
After shaking your hand he held it up to signal the bartender, who immediately came to him to take his order.
“Another one for me, and for the lady?”
William pointed to you, catching you off guard as you were still confused how he’d had the bartender practically at his beck and call while you’d been waiting for minutes.
“Um, I’ll do the same thing!”
You smiled as you’d reached for the stool that sat tucked under the bar, figuring your friends wouldn’t mind you ditching them to have a drink with your new found friend.
“What do you think?”
William patiently watched as you sipped the drink, hoping you’d enjoy it. The taste was just as he described, a bit spicy with the perfect amount of lime.
“Wow, that’s good! I think I like it more than a traditional mule.”
He was pleased that you enjoyed the recommendation, clinking glasses with you as he took a sip himself before asking about your reason for being in Ibiza.
You’d explained it was a girls trip, leaving out the details of your breakup, knowing those details would almost definitely deter any guy from being interested in you.
“It’s been a super fun trip, this is our last night out though so I’m a bit sad about that.”
“Your last night? And I just got the chance to meet you and share a drink? Damn, well, I guess I need to make the most of the time I have with you then.”
He smirked as his chin rested on his hand, looking you up and down as he finger traced over his bottom lip. Something instantly telling you there was more to what he was saying, reading inbetween the lines to hope that he was as interested in you as you were in him.
You took note of his toned arms that were simply covered by a white short sleeve shirt, a gold chain peeking out from under his collar, his pants hugging his thighs pretty tight. Making you wonder how muscular his legs would appear underneath the fabric.
The two of you had downed a few more drinks, your buzz increasing as you felt yourself growing more and more desperate to be closer to William. The way he ran his hand through his hair, his smile as he spoke and the occasional laugh he’d let out. You’d hoped he couldn’t see it written on your face how much you wanted him, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could control the thoughts running through your mind.
“Do you dance?”
His hand rested on your thigh, reaching for your fingers as your hands then intertwined. A smile on his lips as his thumb traced circles over your skin.
“Mmm, I do dance. I can’t say I’m good, especially after so many drinks.”
William laughed at your drunken words, standing up as he tucked some hair behind your ear.
“Well what if I keep a hand on you, to hold you steady?”
You looked up at him with lust filled eyes, playfully biting your lip as you rose to your feet to join him.
“I think you’re gonna have to hold me pretty close.”
“Then I won’t take my hands off you.”
William winked before he took your hand and led you to the dance floor, finding a spot for the two of you as he spun you around before bringing your bodies close together.
Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as two moved along to the music. His hands resting at your waist as he felt his heart racing with you so close to him. Trying to control his desire to let his hands roam your body and see how far you’d let him go before you turned him down.
But little did he know you were more than willing to explore his desires. Wanting to feel his hands all over you, to have his lips on yours.
“For someone who said they’ve had quite a few drinks, you’re moving pretty well on your feet.”
William smirked down at you as you rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you brought his arms around your waist, backing up so your ass was pressed against him.
“Oh don’t act like you don’t want to hold onto me.”
He laughed in your ear as the two of you were now grinding rather than simply swaying to the beat. The tension building as you’d tried to not seem desperate to be closer to him, but needing him to know you were open to take this as far as he also wanted.
“Oh trust me, I want to do more than just hold you. Like I said, I’m trying to make the last night of your trip the best night.”
You leaned your head back on his shoulder, smiling as one of his hands kept a hold on your waist while the other moved your hair from your neck. Exposing the skin to him as you felt his lips brush over your skin, his nose tickling your ear causing you to slightly flinch.
“The best night of my trip huh? You think you’re gonna be able to do that?”
William chuckled in your ear, loving the cockiness in your voice, as if proposing a challenge to him. To which he gladly accepted, not willing to back down from you. Wanting to follow through on his promise of making this the best night of your trip.
“I don’t want to sound cocky, but I can guarantee you won't be able to walk tomorrow once I have my way with you.”
His words send a wave of need throughout your body, the mystery of not knowing what would be in store being enough to have you ready to leave with him immediately. Knowing he had you wet on this dance floor solely from his words, the idea of what he’d do to you once he had you in private made you weak in the knees. Glad he’d had a steady hold on your waist, pressing your ass firmly against his crotch which you’d tried not to pay attention to as you felt him growing hard behind you.
“Is that a threat? Or a promise?”
He placed a kiss to your neck, softly biting at the skin before licking over the spot to soothe it. Earning a soft moan from you as you felt chills shoot up your spine at his lips against your skin.
“Why don’t we get out of here and you can find out?”
The invitation was all you needed, taking his hand in yours as you pulled him from the floor. Stopping back at the booth where your friends had been loving the fact you’d finally found someone to hopefully get you laid. Admiring the gorgeous man at your side as you asked them for your bag.
“Don’t wait up girls!”
You blew them a kiss as you quickly exited the club, hand in hand with William as you had no clue where you were headed. You and your friends had been sharing a room, so you hoped William had a room to himself that you two could occupy.
He noticed you looking left at right, appearing at your side as he snaked a hand around your waist. Pulling you into his chest as he began peppering your face with kisses.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get a cab.”
You grabbed his face as you pulled his lips to yours, kissing him for the first time as you couldn’t handle the anticipation anymore. Tongues fighting for dominance as one of his hands gripped your ass while the other held you close to him. You bit his lip as you pulled away, blushing with a smile on your face as he tried to catch his breath. Your hand reached for his as a cab pulled up, William opening the door for you to climb in.
“How long is the drive?”
He smirked down at you, sensing how badly you needed him to touch you again. His hand resting on your thigh, slowly making its way higher to dip beneath your skirt.
“Someone is impatient huh?”
You felt goose bumps covering your skin as his fingers slipped under your skirt, brushing over the fabric of your thong to feel how much you’d already soaked them. A smirk on his lips, loving the idea of how wet you’d been all night just for him.
“Fuck, you’ve been this wet for me all night? I love that.”
His lips crashed back down onto yours while his fingers pulled the fabric of your thong to the side, as he traced along your slit. A soft moan escaping your lips only to be swallowed by William. Your thighs instinctually spread to give him more access, William taking that as his sign to go further. His thumb slowly circled your clit as he slipped his fingers past your folds. A sharp gasp escaping your mouth as your hand instinctively pulled him deeper into the kiss, trying your best to muffle any sounds that were threatening to come from you.
William’s growing erection pressed against the zipper of his pants as he felt you soaking his fingers, loving the feeling of your juices coating his hand. Catching you off guard he suddenly pulled them from you, bringing them to your mouth as he broke the kiss. You gladly accepted his fingers into your mouth, sucking your juices from them as he bit his lip.
“Mmm good girl.”
The cab came to a halt and William handed the driver some cash before he pulled you from the backseat. You were pulling your skirt down as you climbed from the cab, hoping no one was able to tell what the two of you had just done, though also not caring as you were craving more from him.
His hand held yours tight as he pulled through the crowded street up to his hotel, secretly hoping the two of you would get lucky with an empty elevator ride to his floor. William desperately needing to have his way with you, pressing the button to close the doors just as quickly as they’d opened for you.
“Floor twenty.”
He instructed you on which button to press before you felt his hand pull you towards him. Pinning you against the wall you could feel how hard he was, a smirk coming across your lips knowing you’d gotten him so worked up. One of his hands sneaking back under your skirt as the other found its way to your throat, lightly tightening his grip as he stole a kiss from you. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or nervousness, but all he saw was lust and desire.
“You trust me baby girl?”
All you could manage was a slight nod of your head as the ding of the elevator snapped William out of his thoughts. He took your hand as he hurried the two of you down the hall, fumbling with the key as he couldn’t wait any longer to have you all to himself.
Tossing the key on the dresser he pulled you further into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you joined him. Straddling his waist as he lifted your skirt up to your hips, your hands tangling into his blonde locks as your tongues fought for dominance.
He let out a low groan at the feeling of you grinding your hips down onto him, signaling his approval with a smack on your ass. The sound echoing throughout the room as you winced at the slight sting, Williams hand resting on the sore spot as if to soothe it.
“You’re so fucking sexy, I hope you’re ready for everything I wanna do to you.”
His voice was low and laced with desire, he needed you in every way possible. Your mind racing at the things this man had in store for you, and knowing you’d do just about anything he asked left you practically begging him to continue.
Normally you weren’t one to explore different kinks or fantasies in the bedroom, your last boyfriend being more on the vanilla side of things. Which was fine, it got the job done. But something about William, his clear want to have his way with you and explore the limits a stranger would let him go, it brought out a side of you that you were ready to explore.
“Oh yeah? Well let’s see it then, I want everything you’ve got.”
He bit his lip at your words, his cock twitching in the confines of his pants hearing you say you wanted everything. And with that stamp of approval, he was ready to give you just that.
“Take these clothes off and get on your knees. Let’s see how bad you want it.”
Quickly you’d stepped out of your skirt, making sure to give him a good view of your ass that was now sporting a bright red handprint from him. William pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the side before resting back on his hands as he watched you strip for him.
His tongue darted out over his bottom lip as he smirked the mark he’d left on your ass, his hand falling to palm him bulge that was painfully pressing against the seam of his pants and needing to be freed.
Pulling your top over your shoulders, you tossed it to the side as you rested your hands on his thighs, finding your place on the floor in front of him. On your knees as he instructed while he looked down at you with eyes full of need.
Standing up from the bed he’d undone his belt with a quick flick of his wrist, then following suit with the button and zipper. Guiding his pants down his legs as you admired his build, your hands running up his thighs as you desperately needed to see what he was hiding underneath his briefs. Though the bulge in them was clearly telling you that he’d be plenty big enough for you and there would be nothing to complain about.
His thumb traced over your bottom lip as a slight chuckle escaped him, seeing how you eyed his bulge knowing you were surely soaked at the sight of his size.
“You’re cute when you’re needy, and I’m gonna make you beg for every inch of me.”
His words had you dripping, the anticipation for what was to come almost being too much as all you wanted was to get his briefs off of him and his length inside of you. But William wasn’t going to make this so simple. He’d finally discarded his briefs, his cock springing free as it lapped against his stomach. You felt your pussy throb at the sight of it, not only the length but its girth. Trying to anticipate the feeling of lowering yourself onto him and how he’d stretch you out. But you knew nothing could prepare you for that.
He slowly stroked himself as he took your chin in his other hand, guiding your mouth to line up with his length as you willingly offered. A low groan escaping his lips as the feeling of your lips wrapped around him, his hands immediately gripping at your hair as he couldn’t help himself. His hips slowly moved to match the rhythm as you bobbed your head up and down, slightly gagging each time his tip hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck yes, I wanna hear you choke. Just like that.”
Picking up your pace his hips moved to match, his grip tightening in your hair but the pain only felt like pleasure as he held you in place as his cock filled your throat. His breath sharp as he slightly twitched, feeling you deepthroat him, your eyes slightly tearing up as your nails dug into his thighs.
He pulled your mouth from his cock with a groan, already missing the feeling of your lips around him as he picked you up. His hands gripping your ass while his lips crashed back onto yours. Arms wrapped around his neck as your nails scraped along his back, making him hiss at the feeling but he loved it. Wanting you to show him how good he made you feel through the evidence you’d leave on his skin.
He laid you down on the bed, eyes roaming your body as he licked his lips with anticipation, stopping to see the wet spot that had formed through the fabric of your thong. His cock twitching at the sight, desperate to be buried deep inside of you.
“Do you always get this wet?”
His smirking face between your thighs almost made you nervous, instinctually pressing your thighs together to hide yourself from him as if it were a bad thing. But William quickly pulled them apart, reassuring you it was nothing to hide from. His fingers hooking under the tiny straps that sat on your hips, pulling the fabric from your body as he was met with your glistening folds.
“Dirty little thing soaking your panties like that for me.”
His lips pressing kissed along your thighs, teasing you as his mouth was covering every inch of you except where you needed him most. Your hips instinctually adjusted as if to give him the hint, though he could tell from your eyes just how desperate you were for him to taste you.
“Talk to me baby girl. Daddy is gonna make sure you get exactly what you want.”
The way the pet name for you rolled off his lips surely had the sheets soaked beneath you. His slight accent mixed with the cockiness in his voice sent shockwaves down your spine as you could hardly wait any longer, his teasing becoming unbearable.
“I want you to taste me, please.”
Your hand gripped at his hair as you tried to guide him towards your heat, your voice slightly whiny as you pleaded with him. But he loved it, inching closer towards you as you could feel his breath on your folds, goosebumps covering your skin as you’d swallowed in anticipation.
“Mmm, please what?”
“Please daddy.”
Your response was almost instant, making William chuckle at how you’d become putty in his hands. But he loved every bit of it, knowing he’d repay you with the pleasure you’d be feeling at the hands of his mouth in seconds.
Hearing daddy roll off your tongue was all it took as you gasped, his mouth immediately pressing to your clit as he wasted no time. His tongue worked wonders as your back arched, hands grabbing at his hair so tight you were sure he’d lose strands.
“Fuck, oh my-shit!”
He chuckled at your reaction, it only encouraged him to continue as he’d slipped two fingers between your folds. His cock twitching at how wet you’d gotten for him, his fingers matching the pace of his tongue as you felt your breath catching in your chest. Breathing heavy as you could feel your fingers tightening around him, eyes fluttering shut as you tossed your head back. Not able to form words as the only escaping your lips were whines and moans as he brought you to your peak, but not backing down.
He could feel you were already close, your hands dropping from his hair to grip the sheets as your thighs pressed tight to either side of his head. Your body shaking as you tried to push him away, the feeling was overbearing as his tongue continued its attack on your clit. Pulling his fingers from your folds, he’d wrapped both arms around your thighs, holding you still as his mouth took over.
The way he licked and sucked at your clit you were seeing black, and William couldn’t take his eyes off you. Seeing how overstimulated you were as you body shook beneath him, looking down at him through half hooded eyes as you bit your lip.
He’d let his thumb take the place of his mouth as he came up for air, kissing your thighs softly as he smirked up at you.
“You wanna cum baby? I can see it in your eyes.”
Nodding your head was all you could manage as your mind was blank, William moving his hand so his fingers could dip back inside you.
“Mmm, fuck. Such a pretty little slut getting soaked for me. How about you cum for daddy and then ride this cock?”
“Y-yes, I need your cock inside me. Wanna feel you stretch me out daddy.”
He loved hearing you dirty talk back to him, the fact that you made sure to tell him what you needed despite the work of his fingers making it hard for you to breathe let alone speak.
“As you wish baby girl.”
William chuckled before his fingers picked up their pace, thrusting in and out of you as his tongue found its way back to your clit. The sensation already close again as he barely gave you time to recover from the previous high.
Your back arched as your moans turned into soft screams, William pushing you over the edge as he made you ride out your orgasm. Soaking his fingers and mouth as he’d managed to make you squirt, catching you off guard as you looked at him shocked.
“Fuck, I-I’ve never done that before.”
Taking his fingers in his mouth to taste you as he cleaned them off he flashed a smile, climbing up the bed and lowering himself on top of you. His lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss as you felt his cock slightly brush against your folds, making you twitch at the sensation.
“It was so fucking sexy baby.”
His lips trailed down to your neck as he slid his tongue along your jawline before biting at your collarbone. Your head falling back only makes him reach up and wrap his hand around your exposed skin, slightly tightening his grip as he whispers in your ear.
“Now how about you get in my lap and we make you do it again?”
William swapped your places, pulling you into his lap as you straddled him, his hand reaching behind you to unhook your bra in one swift movement. Pulling the black laced undergarment from your arms as he threw it across the room. Immediately giving attention to your breasts as he’d been eyeing them all night, never imagining them to be as perfect as they were to him.
While he gave your chest some attention, you took your turn at leaving marks of your own down his neck, hands roaming his muscular chest and arms. Soft moans escaping his lips every time he felt your teeth nip at his skin, always followed by your tongue to soothe the red spots you’d left behind.
Slipping a hand behind you, you took his cock and slowly teased your folds. Desperately trying to make him wait but you couldn’t hold out any longer yourself, sliding down his length as your hands rested on his chest to brace yourself. Expletives pouring from both of you, feeling him stretch you out as his head fell back against the pillow. Hands sliding down your sides to grip at your hips, holding you steady as he needed a minute to compose himself with how tight you felt wrapped around him.
“Shit…”
“Yeah.”
He echoed your reaction as he attempted to guide your hips, urging you to ride him, which you happily obliged. William’s hands moving to grip your ass as you grinded against him, his hips occasionally bucking at specific movements you’d done.
“Bounce on it baby, show me how much you like it.”
“Mmm, I don’t like it, I love it.”
Following his request you leaned forward as your arms rested on either side of his head, bouncing your ass up and down on his cock as he groaned in pleasure.
“Fuck, just like that. Such a good girl, fucking ride me baby.”
A smack of your ass from him urging you to continue, your pace picking up as you could feel yourself already getting close to another orgasm.
“Shit, I’m already close. You feel too good, holy shit.”
William smirked at you before he quickly flipped you over onto the bed, keeping his cock buried inside you as you gasped. Caught off guard by the sudden switch of positions, but loving the feeling as he put one of your legs over his shoulder to have a better angle.
“Think we can make you recreate earlier? Gonna really push you to your limits baby. Can you take it?”
Biting your lip you nodded, fingers gripping the sheets tight as his hand fell to your clit, thumb rubbing vicious circles as your eyes rolled back. His free hand doing his best to hold you in place as you were already shaking.
“Come on baby, let’s see it, be a dirty little slut for daddy. I want you to soak me.”
His words were like drugs to your senses, the only thing you needed to reach your peak. That besides his cock and thumb that was working its magic making you tongue tied as you could barely form a response.
“William, I can’t take anymore, it’s too much.”
He could feel you tightening around him once again, knowing you’d gotten you so close. His thrusts now sloppy as his pace picked up, both with his cock and his thumb.
“Fuck, come on baby, I’m gonna cum for you. You’re so close, I can feel it.”
His voice almost a low growl as you watched his brow furrow, his own climax approaching. Reaching down you pushed his hand away, taking over the assault on your clit and giving him the ability to grip your hips and thrust into you. Hard and fast as his fingers surely broke skin, leaving bruised fingerprints in their wake as your hips bucked against him. Your hand barely able to keep its pace, the warmth building up as your back arched.
“Fuckkk!”
William pulled himself from you as he came, his seed covering your stomach as your own release coated his chest. A cocky grin on his face as he looked down at the mess the two of you had made. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. Vision blurry as you all you could muster was a, “holy fucking shit”.
William climbed off the bed, disappearing to the bathroom before returning with a towel to clean you off. Your body slightly twitching at the feeling of him touching you, you’d definitely be sensitive for an hour or so with how good he’d pleased you.
After discarding the towel he picked you up, ripping the soaked sheets from the bed before setting you back down on the drier surface of the mattress. At this point you didn’t care where he set you down, just needing to lay still and try to recover.
“You okay baby girl?”
He grabbed an extra blanket from the closet, laying next to you before he draped it over the two of you. His thumb brushing over the skin of your shoulder while his lips pressed soft sporadic kisses.
“Yeah, I um, wow. Fuck.”
William chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you, closing his eyes as your breathing finally slowed to match his.
“Told you I’d make this the best night of your trip.”
Playfully rolling your eyes you ran your fingernails along the skin of his forearm, relaxing in his embrace as you tried to imagine how you’d explain this to your friends.
“What about tomorrow, you think you could make that the best morning of my trip?”
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thefreakandthehair · 1 year ago
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@steddiemas day 1: deck the halls | wc: 1.2k | rated: m
Robin Buckley loves Christmas.
Like, really loves Christmas. If she could convince Steve to put the tree up in their little shitbox apartment the day after Halloween, she would. In fact, she'd tried last year but Steve reminded her that a live tree would be a needleless fire hazard by Christmas Day and she refuses to entertain the idea of a fake tree.
Absolutely not. Live tree or bust.
And this is how Steve ends up at the Christmas Tree Farm the day after Thanksgiving, dragged around with a fond if not tired smile as she checks tree after tree, pulling their branches, checking their strength and health.
"It has to be a Blue Spruce to hold those heavy ornaments from my parents, and none of these are Blue Spruces!" She bemoans, whipping her head around to glare at Steve. "Are you even helping?"
He rolls his eyes and sips the hot chocolate that warms him from the inside. "I'm here as moral support and to cut the thing down when you find it." Steve wiggles the little saw he'd been handed and nods her on.
Robin scoffs and marches back towards him. "I think there are some Blue Spruces in the lot towards the back."
Without a question, he turns on his heel and follows her. This isn't their first Christmas Tree Hunt so he knows the drill. No matter how much he actually hates Blue Spruces because the needles are sharp and stick him when they hang the lights, he'll never say a word. Not when it makes his best friend this happy.
Eventually, they make the trek through muddy grass and Robin does, in fact, find a Blue Spruce that makes her eyes light up in the hidden away lot.
"This is it," she beams. "This is the one."
"Perfect, here, hold this--" Steve hands her his mug and starts to lean down, only for the tree to start shaking.
A man in ripped jeans and Reeboks lies beneath the tree, his own saw just beginning to make its mark in the stump of the spiky, healthy Spruce.
"Hey! Hey, what are you doing? This is our tree." Robin says, reaching through branches to hold it steady. "We were just about to cut it down, back off."
Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not that he won't defend Robin's honor and get into a fight in a Christmas Tree Farm for her, he'd just really rather not.
The mystery man pokes his head out from under the tree with furrowed brows and two needles sticking out from the top of his head, dirt on his denim jacket that protects what looks like a red and black flannel. Steve's definitely been watching way too many Hallmark movies with Robin lately because holy shit, he's cute.
"Listen, my best friend wants this tree, and I don't even wanna be under here but if she doesn't get this Blue Whatever-The-Fuck, someone's halls are getting decked and it'll probably be mine. So, sorry." He shrugs and returns to his place under the tree. 
Robin looks at Steve, bewildered and frazzled simultaneously. Do something, she mouths. 
Like what? He mouths back, scrunching his face and contorting his mouth. 
She widens her eyes and jerks her head to the side, desperate. 
He should’ve known Robin would be responsible for his demise. 
“C’mon, man, we’ve been here for two hours looking for a tree.” Steve gets no response, just a few grunts that shouldn’t go straight to his crotch but what can he say? It’s been awhile.
He steps forward and lies down beneath the tree with the Tree Thief. “Is she here with you? Your best friend who seems as fucking rabid as mine is here about these trees?” 
Steve watches as the man focuses on the tree stump, rhythmic back and forth motions of the saw moving his torso along the ground with his tongue poking out between his lips. “Maybe I can talk to her? Or send Robin? She’s… convincing?” 
“Chrissy wants this one, dude. Hate to break it to you.” 
“Ah, okay. Robin and Chrissy. Well, I’m Steve, and you’re…?” 
The sawing stops as he catches his breath. “Eddie. I’m Eddie. And unless you’re gonna help under here, you might wanna move. I don’t wanna drop this on you.” 
Steve pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and takes a chance. Reaching out, he places one hand on top of Eddie’s. “Can I make you a deal?” 
Eddie startles, eyes flickering back and forth from the space where their hands touch on the rough bark of the tree up to Steve’s gaze. 
“Depends on the deal, I suppose.” Maybe Steve imagines the flush to his cheeks and the playful grin that blossoms across his lips. All he knows about Eddie is that his best friend’s name is Chrissy and that he has the most beautiful brown eyes Steve’s maybe ever seen. 
Not maybe. Definitely. 
“Uh,” he shakes his head, trying to pull himself out of whatever Christmas romcom he thinks he’s living in. “What if we help you and Chrissy find another tree and I help you cut it down? I’ll even carry it to the car for you.” 
“What are you, some sort of lumberjack?”
“Nope,” he lowers his voice conspiratorially, joking as he leans closer, like an idiot. “Just desperate not to get my halls decked.” It earns him a genuine smile and surprised laugh punched from Eddie’s lungs. 
“Alright,” he taps the saw on the trunk and smirks over at Steve, mere inches apart beneath a Christmas tree. Close enough for the faint scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and Old Spice cologne to permeate the strength of the resinous spruce. “You help us find another tree, lug it to the car, and then meet me for coffee after? Seems like the least you can do, all things considered.” 
Trading numbers with the guy he met while bargaining for Robin’s dream Christmas tree isn’t the weirdest moment of his life, but it’s certainly on the shortlist. As is plucking rogue needles out of his hair when they come up from beneath the tree.
He ends up lugging two Blue Spruces to the parking lot an hour later in two trips— Robin chatting with Chrissy in front of them and Eddie at his side, gravitating closer and closer until their arms nearly touch. 
“You know, you didn’t actually have to do this,” Eddie says, moving away from Steve and to the other side of Chrissy's sedan to help tie the tree to the roof. “You’re not like, actually obligated or whatever.” 
Steve finishes tying his end of the knot and looks across at Eddie, finding him standing with hopeful eyes and a piece of hair drawn in front of his face. 
“Oh, I know.” He smiles and shrugs. “But I want to. Especially the coffee-with-you-after part.” 
“Not until we get this thing up and decked, Munson!” Chrissy pops up next to Eddie at the same time Robin appears next to Steve, both of them practically bouncing on their heels and grinning ear to ear. 
Robin nudges Steve in the side and he looks down to see her phone held out, Chrissy’s number typed into her contacts with a tiny pink heart to it. He gives her a subtle, excited thumbs up from below Eddie and Chrissy’s view beneath the car. 
Eddie slings an arm across Chrissy’s shoulders and ruffles her hair before she fixes her ponytail, indignant. 
“Alright, alright,” Steve laughs. “I’ll uh, I’ll text you?” 
Eddie nods and turns himself and Chrissy towards the front of the car. As he gets in the passenger seat, he looks back at Steve with a mischievous wink most likely emboldened by Steve’s brash flirtation. 
“The sooner, the better.”
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springseasonie · 2 years ago
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Hate me more | LMH (M)
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Enemies to lovers, Camp counselors Mark x Fem reader
Summary: You really dislike Mark and you're pretty sure he dislikes you too. Ever since he came to the camp last year, he's been nothing short of a headache to you. And now you're forced to work with him this summer, and his mission is clearly to piss you off.
Warnings: sexual content, heavy dubcon/cnc themes, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), kissing (shocker), Mark is annoying, so is the reader tbh, may be errors even though proof read
Word count: 7,7k
Song recs: kiss by NCT dojaejung (this is my way of promoting the unit go stream)
A/N: I was gonna write something for the release of golden hour but this took a bit longer than expected 😭 10 days later an I finally finished it lmao please give feedback if you want it's always appreciated
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"Okay kiddos make sure you have all your things before we go back to the cabins okay?"
"Yes Ms. Y/N!"
You gave them a thumbs up as you leaned on a tree, waiting for all the kids to pack up. This was your life every summer for the past 4 years. Being a camp counselor was a lot of work the first time, but by the end of the summer, you had to come back. You loved your kids and they loved you. The staff was always so welcoming and nice. That was true until Mark started the third summer.
He was such an asshole. All the other female counselors gushed over him and his looks. He was constantly flirting with everyone, using his looks and charisma to get himself out of shit. It annoyed you, and Mark instantly took notice. He would side eye you all the time and talk about you as if you weren't friends with everyone else. He didn't really care though, he enjoyed being confronted by you every time he got "caught." Mark found your anger funny, never really taking you seriously.
And now you're paired to work with him this summer.
"Ms. Y/N, where is Mr. Mark? I need help getting something out a tree," one of the kids asked.
"That's a good question honey." You glanced around the area, looking over both shoulders to try and get a sign of him. And of course, he's nowhere to be found. "I don't see him around. We're just gonna have to wait for him okay?"
The little girl nods and runs back to her friends. Ten minutes go by and you start to get annoyed. This happened way more often than you would like to think. Mark disappears to do something or someone for way too long and you're left to take care of the kids by yourself. Sometimes, you almost think it's unbelievable how unreliable he is, sneaking away leaving you alone with 20 children in a forest. But then again, it's on brand for him.
5 more minutes went by and you start to get frustrated. You have no idea what he could be doing that's going to cause all of you to be late for dinner time. "Okay everyone please listen to me okay?" All the kids stop talking and turn to you. "I'm gonna go look for Mr. Mark, but I need all of you to sit in 5 rows of 4. Now." All the kids practically run to sit next to their friends and plop down on the floor.
"Good. None of you move or get up. If anything happens, scream at the top of your lungs okay? I'll be right back." All of the kids agreed as you turned to walk into the forest, going the way you last saw him.
"So fucking irresponsible," you muttered to yourself. "How the hell am I supposed to watch 20 kids by myself?"
You could still hear the kids, so you know you weren't too far away from the area or the trail. This wasn't new for you, always looking for him. It's only been a month since the both of you had to start working together, and he was already making shit hard for you. Mark liked to go hide somewhere. it was either to get away from you, the kids, or to get blown off by some staff member. You couldn't stand it.
"I mean seriously, can't he control himself for one fucking summer," you grumble. "Fucks everything that walks. What an ass."
"Well I wouldn't say that."
Your body jumped violently suddenly hearing his voice next to you. You whipped your head in his direction seeing him sitting, leaning in a tree. Mark had his ear buds in and from where you were standing, you could still hear the music playing.
"Where the hell were you," you asked angrily.
Mark stood up and dusted his pants off as he walked to you. You crossed your eyes, eyeing him up and down. He was so smug about everything. He always looked like something was amusing to him, like there was always a joke to tell.
"Here," he said.
"Clearly. And how the hell do you even have a working phone out here. There is literally no service."
Mark shrugged, wrapping the ear buds around his phone and putting it in his back pocket. "I downloaded stuff before I came."
"Whatever, let's go," you said, rolling your eyes.
"Where are the kids," he asked you, placing his hands in his pockets as he walked.
"In the same place I left them. I had to come get you like you were a lost child. Stop leaving me with all these kids."
Mark smiled in amusement as he walked behind you. You didn't really notice, but you tend to stomp when you are angry. And fortunately for Mark, it wasn't annoying. He actually found it cute, but he wouldn't tell you that.
"Can we take a break? My legs hurt," he whined teasingly.
"Mark, stop playing games. We have 20 kids in the forest waiting for us to come back and the sun will start setting soon," you replied, sighing heavily.
"Oh please we'll be okay."
And at this moment, you've just about had it with him. You turned around, lips pursed at his nonchalant response. Mark stopped in his tracks, looking up at you as you stood on the top of the small hill. "You have one more time to piss me off or I will report you. I'm not joking."
Mark's amused expression washed away as you turned around and kept walking. For the rest of the walk back, he said nothing. Soon enough, the both of you got back to the kids who were still sitting and chatting.
You sighed, groaning quietly. "I'm gonna do another headcount. You get that thing out of the tree."
"Why couldn't you just do it," he complained.
"Because- you know what, just get it out the tree."
You counted all of the kids, double and triple checking everyone and the area around you. Soon enough, Mark got the toy that was stuck in the tree out, and everyone was ready to leave. "Okay everyone you know the drill. Get your buddy and get in line. Mark, you'll watch the back."
"Didn't sound like a question," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"I wasn't asking."
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"I swear to you I will kill him if I'm ever alone with him again."
"He's really not that bad," Somi said, taking another bite of her pancake.
"Please, bad is an understatement," you say as you sit down. "He fucking left me with 20 kids, and then when we got back and I told him how dangerous that was, he says 'but you handled it, right?'"
Somi laughs, clearly amused at your story. You give her a confused look, not understanding why she wasn't siding with you. "Y/N, anything he says makes you angry."
"That's not the point!" Somi stops laughing when she sees how upset you are. "He left me and 20 kids in the forest near sunset to sit on his ass and listen to music. Then got an attitude with me because I was telling him what do when he wanted to act like a fucking child. I'm tired of it, Somi. I've been dealing with this for a month."
"Shit, I didn't think it was that serious," she said, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.
"We literally could've had a bear encounter or something. I don't want to keep taking responsibility for his shit," you say, sighing heavily. "Anyways, I'm done complaining. Let's just eat."
You went to bed last night still completely angry at what happened in the forest. Mark didn't say anything to you walking back, but your conversation once you got back to the main camp was nothing short of unpleasant. It consisted of all your usual unpleasantries with him. Mark didn't really seem to care much though. You hated that you always let him get a rise out of you once you said you weren't going to do it anymore. And at this point, you had to get to the bottom of it.
You looked around the dining hall trying to find Mark. You knew he was there, he always came late after roughhousing with the kids in his cabin. Searching around some more, you spot him in line getting food. "I see him."
"Please don't harass the man," Somi begged you.
"Too late." You got up and walked to him. You really needed all this bad energy between the both of you to disappear. You weren't too sure about him, but it made every day difficult and you couldn't deal with it all summer. "Hey buddy," you said, tapping his shoulder.
"Didn't know we were friends."
The fake smile immediately turned into a frown. "Our conversation from last night isn't finished."
Mark groaned quietly as you followed his pace in the line. "Why do you keep bothering me if you don't like me?"
"I'm not bothering you, I'm trying to figure out what your deal is," you whisper yell. You followed Mark to his usual seat with the other male counselors, taking a seat right next to him. You were too focused on him to notice the confused stares you got from everyone else.
"Um, hey Y/N," Haechan greeted you awkwardly. "Is this…your new spot?"
"I came to talk to your friend if you don't mind."
"She's crazy," Mark blurted out, making the table laugh.
You smacked him on the arm, making him turn to you with the brightest smile you've seen all summer. And for some reason this was the first time you looked at him without feeling pure irritation. He was actually pretty…cute?
You couldn't look directly in the eyes, fearing that the anger you felt all morning would go away. Instead of speaking, you got up and went back to the table with Somi.
"So..what happened," she questioned.
"Nothing."
"You don't seem too upset by it," Somi observed.
"What..what are you talking about," you said, trying to deflect.
"You can't fool me, you're terrible at lying," she laughed. Somi took another bit of her pancake, but stopped laughing, giving you a look as if she found out something. "Do you like him?"
"Keep your voice down! And don't eat with your mouth full, you look like a damn kid."
"Y/N, do you like him?"
"Of course not! I can't stand the man," you deny.
Somi squints her eyes and side eyes you, but says nothing. You know she doesn't believe you, but it doesn't really matter because either way, you don't like him. "Okay..just know that today is your day to clean the kitchen."
"I know," you said with a sigh.
"And his also," she reminded you.
"Goodness kill me now."
-
You and Mark cleaned the dishes in the kitchen silently, not daring to say a word. There was an unspoken rule between the 2 of you at the moment, first person to speak surrenders to the other for the entire summer. You'll never surrender to him, no matter what it takes (that's what you want to believe anyway.) Mark had been stealing glances for about 30 minutes now, watching you clean meticulously and quietly. He always thought you were pretty, except for when you were being annoying that is. He always thought of himself as the bigger person, despite his childish nature, so he thought he should end this silent game sooner than expected.
"Did you get sleep," he asked.
"Why do you care?"
"I can't be concerned about my friend," he said. Mark chuckled softly when you sucked your teeth.
"Why do you insist on pissing me off," you say, turning to him. "Like I really don't understand why you don't like me. Since you came here last year, I've been nothing short of annoyed with you."
"It's never been my intention, but I just happen to strike those emotions in some women."
"What the fuck does that mean?" You put down the dirty dishes, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a brow raised.
"It means," he replied, turning to you, "that the more women are attracted to me, the less they like me."
You scoffed, getting back to cleaning the dishes. "You wish. You're out of your fucking mind."
"If I'm crazy, then what exactly was that earlier," he asked. You didn't know, but Mark definitely noticed how you backed off of him during breakfast. The way your expression changed, how quick you got up. It almost seemed like you were running from something, and he knew exactly what it was. "I know you like me."
"I don't like you. I just didn't want to talk to you in front of all your friends. They were laughing at me, so I left," you explained. Mark took two steps to you, his body ending up close to yours. You backed up a bit, not understanding why he was close to you, but he followed you again. "What are you doing?"
"Testing something out," he said simply.
"Look I don't know what you're testing but I'm busy. " Just as you moved away from him, he placed his arms beside you, trapping you under him. The both of you have never been this close before. Sure there were times where he had to catch you or hold you for activities in the forest, but there was nothing like this. This was close. This was personal.
"What are you doing," you asked, shock written all over your face.
"Standing here." Mark's lips curled into a smirk as his eyelids dropped once glancing at your lips. "You're pretty."
"Thank you but I really need to-"
"You know," he started,"you never told me what you wanted to talk about before you left the table."
You sighed, making a dramatic pained expression. "Mark, please. Can you back up?"
"No."
You looked up at him, surprised that his face was closer than before. One more move and your lips would've probably touched his. 'Why am I even thinking about that right now,' you thought to yourself.
"I know you wanna kiss me," he said almost in a whisper. Mark chuckled softly seeing the frazzled look on your face. You were so easy to read, always saying you didn't like him knowing damn well you wanted him. He just wanted to make you say it. He wanted to break your prideful attitude down and make you beg for him.
"You are saying insane things right now." You couldn't even look him in the eye, too afraid you would melt under his body. He was too close. You couldn't control your heart beat or your whirling mind. 'Maybe kissing him wouldn't be so bad,' you thought to yourself, but pushed the thought to the back of your head.
"But you didn't say I was wrong," he said, leaning into your neck.
"Mark, seriously." The slight whine in your voice made you want to run and hide from everyone. You felt like you were going to collapse into his hands the closer he got. His voice was so soft, but his presence was still so dominating. It was almost too much for you to bear.
"What would you do if I kissed you right now," he whispered in your ear, a smile on his face. "Would you push me away, take it and get mad, or maybe give me another one?"
You could barely look at him, let alone speak. You had no idea how to respond to him. You didn't even know if you were supposed to. But what you did know is that if he made one more move or said anything else, you would most likely lose your mind. "Mark, it's too early in the morning for this," you said practically begging him to stop.
Mark released his hand from the counter, placing it on your waist. His grip was firm as he pressed you against the counter more, body so close his leg was between yours. "You're not even trying to run at this point. You little liar."
"Mark..what if someone comes in here?"
"Let them. Why do you care? Are you scared," he teased. Mark kissed the spot behind your ear softly, making you gasp. Your body tensed up in his hand, causing him to rub small circles in your waist in an attempt to comfort you. He kept missing down your neck, moving back up to kiss your jawline.
You stood there, still as a tree. Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in the feeling of his lips on your skin. At this rate there was no point in fighting it. He had already won like he did with everyone else. You felt Mark's hand leave your waist, grabbing your chin as he ran his finger down your bottom lip.
"If you want me to stop I will."
You shook your head unconsciously, brows slightly frowning at his words. You were desperate and he definitely knew from the way you were frozen and speechless.
"Good girl." Mark kissed you softly, but deeply. His hand slowly made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You dare to touch him, feeling like it was way too intimate. But before you could even pull away, he kissed you again, this time with even more sincerity. You didn't know why you had such a heavy feeling in your chest, but it did scare you a little bit.
"We have to finish all of this stuff in 15 minutes. You think we can make it," he asked on your lips.
"If you stop fast enough, maybe.."
Mark chuckled softly at your response, pulling away from you. He was clearly extremely turned on, but you were not the kind to help him with his problem, and he knew that. But that didn't stop his mind from drifting, thinking about how hot it would be if you dropped to your knees at this very moment.
"Wasn't that fun Y/N?"
"What are you talking about," you said, covering your face in embarrassment.
"Unwinding instead of having a stick up your ass," he jabbed.
You dropped your hands, scoffing at him. You shoved your way out of his arms, walking to the sink he was at previously. "Gosh, you're so annoying," you mumbled as you scrubbed the dirty plates.
"Yeah but you like it though."
"You wish."
"Proved my point."
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You and Mark haven't spoken since the kitchen fiasco. You said a couple of words to each other when it came to the kids, but nothing more than that. You couldn't even look at him, the shame filling your body once he came into your vision. But one thing was for sure- you definitely didn't hate him as much. You were still very confused. You didn't understand where all those feelings came from for Mark in the kitchen. Maybe your subconscious? It didn't really matter, you just wanted to make sense of everything.
"Okay everyone, tonight is movie night so we need to leave a little early okay," you announced.
Mark leaned on a tree silently watching you as you interacted with the kids. You didn't know that he had conflicting feelings as well. All the teasing and messing around turning into sexual tension was not what he hoped for. He just wanted to mess with you. He wasn't actually going to kiss you for real, but when he saw the desperate scrunch of your eyebrows, how could he resist himself? If it weren't for the kids, he would definitely have his way with you right on the ground, but nothing in his life ever works right.
Mark admired the way you were with them, always so nice and careful. You were careful with anything really, never wanting to come off as irresponsible or rude. But he never cared about any of that. He didn't care if people thought he was a prick or an ass, which is why you were so intriguing to him. He never got a chance to actually introduce himself to you before you can dislike him as easily as you did.
After 20 minutes of walking back to the main site, the sun had finally set and all the kids and counselors went back to their respective cabins before going to the lake for movie night.
"So you're telling me," Somi started,"after all these months of not liking him, he came onto you in the kitchen and you didn't refuse?"
"I know, I know it's humiliating," you grumbled putting on your shirt.
"Enemies to lovers. My favorite trope."
You let out a loud embarrassed groan listen to her words. "We only kissed twice. We didn't say anything to each other for the rest of the day," you added.
"Not even for your group," she questioned.
"Well of course we did, but very little. He was..so distant," you said. You slipped into your jean shorts and put your shoes back on quickly. "I'm gonna go make sure all the girls are ready." You got up and walked outside to see everyone playing around. Just as you were about to round up your cabin, you see Mark who's talking to some of his kids. You wanted to stop staring at him, but you couldn't. You gulped as he glanced at you, giving you a small wave. "I hate him," you muttered to yourself almost as if you were trying to convince yourself it was true.
You shake your head, attempting to push what happened out of the forefront of your mind, but it's hard to do that when he's walking up to you. You turn away from his direction, hastily gathering the girls from your cabin. Just as you were about to make your way to the lake, you were tapped on the shoulder. Turning around agonizingly slowly, you face him with a fake smile.
"Hi," you said awkwardly.
"Hey, so listen-"
"I can't talk right now, we're about to head to the lake," you interrupted.
"I know but-"
"Can't talk."
Mark sighed, looking down at his shoes. He knew you were difficult, but not like this. "Can we talk after the movie?"
"Talk..about what? There's nothing to talk about," you say dismissively.
Mark rolled his eyes, walking away from you. You looked behind yourself, watching him walk back with his hands in his pockets. All that you could hope for was him forgetting whatever conversation he wanted to have with you.
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Your cabin was the first to get to the lake while Mark's was the last like always. The movie started at 7, so thankfully for you, you could be left alone for 2 hours. You leaned against a tree as you watched the movie projected on the sheet quietly.
Unlike you, Mark was watching you silently, eyes never leaving your body as you stared at the screen. He knew you wanted nothing to do with him even after he kissed you, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He's never been in a situation like this before. Having to chase after you was starting to dampen his pride, but he liked it.
He watched as you whispered to Somi about something, not able to read your lips. Maybe he shouldn't have thought to follow you as you walked away from everyone, but getting to be alone with you came rare, so he had to take his chances.
"Hey, I'm gonna go back to the cabin. I forgot something," he whispered to Haechan.
"Okay, be quick though. I don't wanna be responsible for you," he replied.
Mark gave him a dry laugh and walked away, following you from behind. Mark picked up that you were going to your cabin after a few turns on the trail. The sun was starting to set, so he began to rationalize he weird actions to himself. "It's not weird that I'm following her," he muttered to himself quietly. "I'm just keeping her safe." It was surprising how you didn't notice anyone was following you. You were usually always attentive, but it seems that you were only that way with other people.
Soon enough, the both of you made it to your cabin. You went inside with a big sigh, letting the door slam behind you. Mark would be a kind person and knock on the doors but he wasn't all that kind, so scaring you is the option he went with. Mark quickly went up to the door, opening it quietly. Your back was turned as you rummaged through a bag for something, causing you to not hear his footsteps or the door creaking open.
"Boo!"
"Fuck," yelled, body jumping violently as you turned around. "Mark?"
"Surprise."
You scoffed rolling your eyes at his jazz hands motion. "You're not funny. Now get out, this is a girls cabin."
"I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted to talk." He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as you went back to looking for whatever you were looking for.
"I really don't care, just leave," you said sternly.
Mark had enough of beating around the bush with you, the constant teasing, and asking dumb questions. He had to know why there was bad blood between you, especially after you let him kiss you that morning. "Why don't you like me?"
"You're kidding." You let out a dry laugh as you turned to face him. "I don't like you? I'm pretty sure it's the other way around."
"I'm just curious because since last year, you never gave me a chance, so I really want to know," he said, lifting his brows with a small smile.
"I want you to tell me why you don't like me first, then maybe I'll consider explaining myself to you."
Mark took small steps towards you, not being able to control the smirk on his face when you furrow your brows in confusion. "You're uptight and rude to me. And you never give me your attention unless it's to be rude with me, and I hate that that's the only way I get to talk to you. You only want to speak to me if it's to tell me how bad of a job I'm doing or how frustrating it is to be around me or work with me."
"That's not true, I-"
"I'm not done." You closed your mouth, intimidated by how commanding his voice was. "Then you go around and say to everyone how much you hate me. I know you complain to Somi and all the other counselors, and that's fine. But next time I would like to hear it from you directly."
"That I hate you?" You gave him a weird look, making him chuckle softly.
"Yes. Tell me that you hate me." He was walking closer to you slowly, arms now at his sides as he looked down at you with hungry eyes. Your arms were still crossed as you stood there, not allowing yourself to show how intimidating he was to you. Your face was calm, but your heart was beating faster with every step he took.
"I'm not telling you I hate you. Can I talk now," you asked.
"Go for it."
"You're fucking annoying and not helpful. You came into this camp last year and made all these friends and everyone liked you instantly. Everyone says you're funny and such a great guy but I have yet to see it. All you've done since you've been here was piss me off."
"You wanna know why," he said. He leaned down to your ear, a smile tugging at his lips. "Because you're pretty when you're angry."
"That's not funny," you said, looking away from him.
"I wasn't joking." Mark moved away from you, eyes going straight to your lips.
"Seriously mark, I don't care that you like to get me riled up, but yesterday was uncalled for. Do you have any idea…will you stop staring at me like that?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Mark could barely concentrate on what you were saying. Your expression, the way you spoke, how close the 2 of you were. All he wanted was to just kiss you and shut you up for the night. Mark could barely keep his hands off you, every bit of self restraint coursing through his veins.
You sighed trying to back up from him, but all you did was bump the edge of your bed making you fall back. You plopped on the thin mattress placing your hand behind you to stay balanced on the bed. Mark's gaze turned dangerous, staring at you as if you were prey.
"God you're so hot," he mumbled.
"Mark," you said, his name coming out a bit breathlessly.
Before you could finish your sentence, he pinned your body to the bed. You were dead silent as you watched his eyes move rapidly along your face and body. "Mark..we can't. We have to be back soon."
"Stop fighting it. Just say you want me," he mumbled quietly. He leaned into your neck, breath tickling your skin as you closed your eyes.
You shook your head, brows furrowing as you tried to push the feeling to the back of your head. But the only thing you can think about is how his hands are leaving your wrists as he moves them down your body. Your breath hitched when his fingertips brushed against the slightly exposed skin of your stomach. You didn't stop him as he lifted your shirt, hands attaching to waist firmly.
The both of you stayed silent, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of breathing and your old bed creaking at every movement he made. You watched him as he moved his hands lower, fingers resting on the button of your jean shorts. Mark looked at you for any signs of you wanting to stop, but all he saw was the desperation on your face.
You gulped watching him unbutton and unzip your shorts, lifting your hips as he tugged them off you. Mark took his shirt off, laying it next to your shorts. He hooked his fingers on your underwear, pulling them off you quickly. You let out a small yelp when he tugs you towards him, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he moves between your legs.
'Just get on with it,' was all you could think. You were way too eager to get him between your legs, and at this point, nothing was going to stop it. "Hurry up," you said, breaking the long silence.
Mark didn't say anything or look at you, all he did was smile as his face disappeared between your legs. A small gasp of please leaves your lips as he kitten licks your core. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back onto the mattress taking in every movement. He ran his hand up and down your leg, nails lightly scratching your skin making you shiver. Needing more friction, you begin to grind yourself on his tongue slowly, but he stops you with a hold on your hips.
"We're gonna do this nice and slow okay," he said.
"We can't, we have to get back soon."
"They'll be okay. There's more than enough people out there." Before you could say anything his mouth was back on your core, tongue pressing against your sensitive bud hard. Without thinking your hands made their way to his hair, fingers running through the blonde locks. Mark kept licking at you agonizingly slow, chuckling when you whined for more. He would speed up at moments, flicking his tongue against your clit faster just to tease you, then stop.
"Please," you begged breathlessly, "it feels like I'm being punished."
"I know," he mumbled.
You smacked him on the side of his head softly, making the male look up at you with a brow raised. "I fucking hate you."
Mark chuckled, removing one of his hands from your hip. He didn't take his eyes off of you as he slid two fingers into you, pumping them slowly. Mark watched as you basically fell apart in his hands, moans never stopped spilling from your lips. He began licking your clit, but faster, almost sending you over the edge.
"Shit, don't stop," you whined softly. You couldn't control your hips as you grinded against his fingers and tongue. Your jaw dropped when he fingered you faster. Gripping his hair, your hips moved on their own as you grinded faster. You were so close, your core pulsing on his fingers. "Fuck I'm gonna cum," you whined.
Your whines became louder, the pornographic sounds of your moaning, bed creaking, and sounds coming from Mark filling the empty cabin. This is one the many times you thanked God no one was around. Your eyes rolled back and body shuddered as your orgasm hit you like a truck making you mumble curses that not even Mark could make out. You let go of his hair, plopping back down on your mattress breathing heavily.
"I'm assuming that was the first time you came in a month?" Mark slid his fingers out of you slowly, wiping the digits on your sheets. He moved your leg off his shoulder, lifting himself from between your legs.
"Do you think I'm getting myself off after hiking and being around kids in this damn camp everyday," you asked, rolling your eyes at his statement.
"No. I think you're too uptight to do that," he said with a soft chuckle.
"It's crazy that you're still calling me uptight like I won't get up and leave."
Mark didn't respond to you, laughing softly to himself knowing you wouldn't move either way. He moved off the bed untying his sweats. You watched him as he let his clothes fall to the ground, eyeing his body. Not that you couldn't get it before, but now you see why he was a big deal to the other female counselors.
"Aren't we gonna use protection," you asked, gulping when he was back in front of you.
"I don't have any," he mumbled.
"You're so fucking ridiculous," you grumbled. "You're lucky I'm on birth control."
Mark could barely hear you with how eager he was to see you lose yourself for him. No amount of mean words or insults could turn him off in the moment, every word you spoke sounded like exactly what he needed to hear. "You're so fucking hot when you're mad." His lids dropped as he grabbed your ankles, pulling you closer to him.
"Don't tease, we don't have all night," you whined.
Mark couldn't take his eyes off you as he lined himself with you, slowly entering you with ease. You looked pretty under the light of the setting sun peering through the window. The light hit your eyes perfectly as they rolled back, soft moans leaving your lips at the same time. Mark thrusted into you slowly holding your waist firmly. He wanted to savor the moment, finally able to get you under him, because even though he had you now, he might not ever get you again. It was taking everything in him to not ram into you after every move not wanting it to end too quickly.
With the way he was looking at you you thought he was gonna eat you alive. And in all honesty you would let him. It was conflicting to you that all this pent up aggression towards him exploded into sex, but you were clearly not that conflicted. You would never tell him, but you had always been attracted to him and the kiss was just the tip of the iceberg.
He slid his hands up the back of your legs, pinning them to your chest as he thrusted into you faster. Your moans echoed in the empty cabin, not even thinking about if anyone could be near. "Feels so good," you moaned.
"Who's making you feel good?"
"Fuck..you are," you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you take in pleasure.
"Good girl," he cooed. Mark watched as you slipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit at the same place as his thrust. His fingers were constantly kneading your legs, leaving prints in your skin. "You're close aren't you baby?"
You nodded fast, looking at him with desperate eyes. "Kiss me.. please."
Mark didn't have to think twice. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss quite literally sticking his tongue down your throat. You sucked on the wet muscle, moaning loudly on his tongue every time he thrusted into you.
"Mark..fuck," you moaned softly. Mark took a hand off your leg, wrapping an arm on the small of your back pulling you closer to him. You kissed him again, moans and whimpers poured into his mouth.
Mark moaned softly against your lips as you squeezed around him, cumming on his length. You pulled away, your lewd sounds becoming louder as he didn't stop fucking you. Mark leaned down, kissing your neck messily as you clung onto his shoulder. Mark has never had this kind of passionate feeling with a person before. It was starting to feel like more than just a sexual attraction to him, maybe he did actually have feelings for you.
"Cum in me," you said cupping his face.
Mark looked at you, brows furrowing in uncertainty. "A-are you sure? I-"
"Please baby just cum for me," you mumbled, completely taken over by the pleasure spreading in your body. "Can you do that for me?"
"Anything for you," Mark breathed out. Your words went straight to his length, his pace speeding up as he felt himself closer to cumming.
Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling back as you felt another orgasm creeping up on you. "Y-you're gonna make me cum," you whimpered.
With just a few more thrust, both you and Mark came at the same time, loud moans and groans filling the space. Mark's body went limp, laying on top of you with his face buried on the side of your neck. No one said anything for a minute, just laid there in each other's embrace trying to catch your breaths.
"I guess you don't hate me after all," Mark joked, breaking the silence.
"Only a little less."
Mark snickered as pulled himself out of you slowly. "Let's get you something to clean up with." He got up and pulled his boxers and pants on. You were sure it was because you just had sex with him, but the way you looked at him was different now. Before you were completely annoyed by his presence, but now even the little faces he made were endearing. Of course, Mark would never stop being an infuriating person to talk to but maybe you like talking to him. Maybe you liked being around him this whole time.
"If you want to go for round 2 just say it." Mark walked back to you with tissues, handing them to you with a smile. He chuckled softly when you gave him a frown for his comment. "Back to hating me I guess."
"I don't hate you Mark," you admit. The words felt unnatural to you, but they were the truth. You don't hate him, and you don't think you ever did.
"I'd like it if you did though," he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "If what we just did considered hate fucking, please hate me more."
You rolled your eyes, tossing the dirty tissues in the trash bin across the room. "Who said it was gonna happen again?" Mark watched you closely as you shimmied back into your underwear and shorts. "What? Is there something on my face?"
"Yeah." He stood up, pulling you to him, making you gasp softly. Mark kissed you deeply, smiling against your lips when you kissed him back. "We should get back. I think we've been gone too long," he mumbled.
You nodded, kissing him one more time before he pulled away from you agonizingly slow. "Please don't be weird when we get back. I don't want to have to hate you again," you joked.
"Didn't I just tell you I want you to hate me more?"
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"What do you mean you fucked him last night," Somi whisper yelled.
"Yeah..I did..right on the bed you're sitting on."
"Ew ew ew." She shot up from your bed with a frown on her face, making you laugh loudly. "Seriously what is wrong with you, why didn't you say that before I sat down?"
"Thought your reaction would be funny, and it was," you'd aid giggling.
Somi looked at you with disgust on her face, dusting off her body. "Anyways…are you guys like..a thing now?"
"I don't know. I don't think so," you answered.
"Well do you wanna be a thing?"
"Well..I think I do," you admitted. "But I don't know him that well, you know. All I did was have sex with him. What if he doesn't want anything," you said.
"You want me to be honest?"
"Please do."
"I think you should go talk to him. Like right now," she suggested.
"Now? I don't even know if he's in his cabin," you stated.
"Just go. If he's not there, go back another time. You should talk to him while your feelings are still fresh," she suggested.
Somi was right. Even though you thought it was still a bit early to talk to him, you couldn't stop thinking about him all day and all night. Throughout the day, the both of you kept stealing glances, staring at each other but not saying a word. It's been hard trying to keep your bubbling feelings for him at bay, especially when you're working so close for the summer. But Somi was right, it wouldn't hurt to try.
You nodded, sighing softly. "You're right. I should go." You turned walking to the door, but when you opened it, Mark was standing there, hand up like he was about to knock.
"Oh," you said, surprised. "Hi."
"Hey," he said, looking everywhere but at you. "Can I, um, talk to you?"
"Uh, yeah. You wanna talk here or.."
"Just walk with me. Please?" You've never seen him so nervous or unsure before. It was kind of cute. You agreed, leaving the cabin and walking along the trail with Mark.
The first couple of minutes were silent. Neither one of you said anything. The only thing that could be heard were the sounds of your feet on the dirt trial and the laughter of children from afar. But it wasn't an awkward kind of silence. It felt comfortable, he felt comfortable and warm.
"I really like you Y/N," he started. "And I know it might be weird for you, but I just felt like you had to hear it."
His words went straight to your heart, making it beat faster with every syllable. You blinked fast, not really knowing how to respond. You were afraid of coming into him too strongly, saying something that would scare him away, but you had to say something.
"I..like you too," you confessed. Your face was beginning to heat up, palms becoming clammy from the nervousness. You haven't been like this since middle school, all shy and nervous.
"So..where should we go from here?" Mark raised a brow and looked at you. You glanced at him quick enough to not want to run away from the situation all together. He grabbed your hand, making you pause mid step. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it at this point, and you were sure he could too.
"I, uh, I don't know," you stuttered.
Mark chuckled, clasping his fingers with yours. "I've never seen you so nervous."
"I'm not nervous." You don't know who exactly you were trying to prove that too, but it definitely wasn't him because as soon as you spoke he laughed.
"I think we should start over this summer," he said. "I think we should meet each other for the first time again."
You looked at him confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he started, turning to you. He stopped walking and tugged your hand to look at him. "I mean we should start again from a clean slate. I want to get to know you better on a good note, but only if you're willing."
You gulped looking down at your feet. You must've looked like a kid with the way mark was smiling down at you. "I..I would like that. I'd like that a lot actually." You looked at him, expression going from shy to worriedm. "I'm sorry for y'know being rude and everything."
Mark didn't say anything, allowing your words to linger for a moment before he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was softer this time, more innocent. Mark pulled away with a small smile on his face. "You don't have to apologize to me for anything. I know I've been an ass, and I'm willing to make up for it."
It was hard to keep a smile off your face and stop yourself from blushing like a kid. "If we do this, will you stop talking to me once we're out of here," you asked.
"Y/N when I said I liked you I was serious. I don't want this to be a summer fling. I actually want to get to know you before I date you," he explained.
Your eyes went wide, completely flustered from his statement. "You want to date me?" Your heart fluttered repeating his words almost immediately, getting butterflies in your stomach. "But I've been so terrible to you and-"
"So? We like each other and we should explore that this summer."
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. You let go of his hand and placed it on the back of his neck, kissing him. This was the first time you kissed him. And it felt good. It felt good knowing that you didn't have to keep trying to convince yourself you didn't like him, or that you were never attracted to him. You pulled away, eyes never leaving the man in front of you. You didn't know if this conversation would make a difference for the rest of the day or the rest of the summers, but if Mark was true to a hate he said, you could wait.
But if not, then maybe you just might hate him for real.
2K notes · View notes
no-droids · 2 years ago
Text
Another Rough Day
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gif credit @chrishemsworht
Part Twenty of the Rough Day Series
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 13.7K
Warnings: Angst, violence, canon-typical blood and gore, language, hurt/comfort
A/N: i wanna thank yall for sticking around during my hermit era, in the time ive been gone i am now officially a junior at a university majoring in aerospace and it’s a fuckin nightmare and i hate everything and god help us all literally kill me and I will be posting INCREDIBLY slowly because of that (I’m talkin weeks or months in between updates yall, im sorry I can’t dedicate more time to this but I am going to finish this fic within the next handful of chapters idk maybe 5 or 6 so you shouldn’t have to wait too too long).  As a heads up there will be hard angst as we enter the final arc, there will be hurt and it’ll get dark but everything is gonna turn out alright so thanks for sticking with me and continuing to stick with me. im sorry if you dont like it or your expectations were subverted or if this isn’t what you’d hoped it would be after following and waiting around for so long but this was planned a long time ago and it took me a good year or two to recognize that I started writing this fic for me and now I’m going to end it writing for me and I hope yall can respect that
ALSO I asked my best BEST FRIEND in the entire world @cptnbvcks to collaborate with me for this after we both took a very long break from creating and she drew some GORGEOUS artwork for this chapter so it will be posted at the end, everyone please go follow her and say hello
ps brittany girl you’re a fuckin menace i had to use my own two ears and listen to ethan literally say the words “the mandalorian cums, hard” what the fuck was that im actually suing
anyways chapter below the cut lets get serious yall
---
You take two of them down before they even realize they’re being attacked.
Your aim is as swift and steady as if Din were behind your shoulder right now, calmly pointing out which stationary tree to hit next in rapid succession.  You’re positioned perfectly at the bottom of the ramp to take full advantage of the ambush, the only thing running through your mind is strategy and the constant calculating of angles and ricochets.  The other three troopers are trapped inside the open Crest and you’re right next to a large boulder that you can step behind for cover, but it proves unnecessary as the rumors were apparently true.
They’re… awful.
Not a single blaster is even fired in your direction—you think you see maybe one panicked red shot bounce around in the hull, but that’s it.  The troopers fumble for their guns and trip over each other at the unexpected attack—a few scream like children through the modulators, but you’re temporarily deaf to anything besides the screech of your weapon hitting its target and the crumpling of armored bodies.
Later on, if someone were to ask you to describe exactly what happened—who died first, who ran for cover, who cried out for help—you don’t think you’d be able to.  You don’t even really feel like a person right now.  The entire thing is cold, robotic survival instinct, pure ruthlessness rising in your soul for the first time in your life.  It feels sick.  Wrong in your bones.  Born from preemptive defense in fear of your life, but that doesn’t mean you stop.  Not until all of them stop moving.
You empty the entire fucking canister for a handful of stormtroopers, firing plasma and char marks across every square inch of the pristine hull even after the last one drops.  Your heart is beating too fast, your finger keeps pulling the trigger multiple times even after the blaster clicks uselessly, completely empty and beeping a warning that it must’ve begun emitting ages ago.  Being out of ammo scares you—you suddenly feel vulnerable, even though the very far away logical part of your mind reminds you that they have to all be dead at this point and no physical threat was ever able to graze you.
Regardless, you quickly spin behind the boulder and grab another canister from your belt, giving it a spare check for leaks while the empty one slides and drops to the rocky ground.  It’s the first time you’ve ever had to reload this weapon instead of just pointing and shooting, but the mechanics are relatively simple and your brain makes up for your lack of coherent thoughts with lightning fast perception.  What's difficult is that your hands are starting to shake now that you’re not aiming, you’re not breathing correctly because you’re not really breathing at all.  You can’t tell the difference between the adrenaline-fueled dissociative silence that muffles everything around you or if it really is just that quiet now.  No more clatter of armor, no modulated voices or terrified screams.  No blasters, no footsteps along the ramp, no birds singing.
You quickly pause to lift your elbow and check the enormous eyes blinking up at you, tiny claws still holding tight to the fabric of your tunic and completely unharmed, and then you force yourself to move.  The blaster is held out in front of you while you walk forward and your finger rests on the trigger, begging to be pulled again.  It’s suspenseful and terrifying in a different way than before—now it’s less about psyching yourself up for confrontation and more about the fact that any sudden movement could mean your very swift end.
Silence.  Silence.  You’re numb and raw at the same time, walking up the ramp as your eyes fly everywhere, not even registering the blood or gore, just searching for movement.  You don’t know if you feel like a predator or prey, you’re that much more brutal and inhuman because of how fucking terrified you are.  You count four stormtroopers in the hull laying crumpled and still on the metal floor, but the one in the far corner only has blood on his shoulder.  You quickly swing the blaster around to remedy that, but then—
“P-Please don’t kill me!”
His words remind you of something.  Reality, maybe.  A world outside yourself and the kid’s survival, the living beings behind the bloody armor your enemies wear.
It’s a miracle your finger stays hovering over the trigger, and you watch him throw the blaster at your feet with a clang and scramble to show you his empty hands.  “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me—I’m not loyal to the Empire, I don’t want to be here, please, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die—”
Behind the mask, your expression furrows.  Stormtroopers are loyal to the bitter end, what is he saying?  They embrace their expendiality, it’s the only thing that makes them any sort of a real threat.  Kuiil told you horror stories about them during your childhood, the cloning facilities and the propaganda they’re force fed since infancy.  It’s nearly impossible to find one who hasn’t been raised from birth to serve the Empire, no matter how crumbled and trace its remaining authority may be.
No, this is a trap, it has to be.  Your expression twists with dread after hearing him speak, readjusting your aim with the blaster and preparing yourself for the years of nightmares that’ll follow—but then he cries out, “Wait!” and then removes his helmet with trembling hands.
You pause, staring down at him in shock.
It’s him, you recognize him immediately.  It’s the same face from a hologram puck you bore into your memory, spent multiple days staring at so you’d be able to spot him under any disguise or circumstances.  Oshua Ryler.  Your quarry, the fifth puck, the one Din was out Maker knows where searching for before this entire mess happened.  A stormtrooper?  His puck said nothing about the Empire, this doesn’t make any sense.  What is he doing here?  Stormtroopers don’t have pucks, they don’t have bounties or relatives or loved ones searching for them.  They’re brainwashed, replaceable, faceless soldiers in suits of armor and they don’t even have names.
“Please don’t kill me,” he begs again, staring at you with wide eyes even as he cowers.  “I have a family, I-I just want to go home, please—”
“Shut up.”  You can’t think straight with him crying like that and you’re wasting so much time just standing here trying to process when your brain had to literally shut itself down to even do the things you’ve already done.  You have to kill him and escape, you have to—you can’t trust this complication, not with the tiny claws currently digging into your back and reminding you of your purpose, but it was so much easier when he had on a helmet.  You hate looking at his face.  It’s going to haunt your dreams now, just like the man you stabbed on Corellia.
“Please don’t kill me—please don’t kill me,” he screws his eyes up and breathes over and over instead, and your stomach wrenches with disgust.  His posture and expression are so fucking pitiful, you can barely keep your eyes on him through the overwhelming nausea and aversion that climbs up your throat.  He’s with the Empire, and they’re looking for the baby.  You know what needs to be done.  Pull the trigger, just one small movement from you and it’ll be all over.  It would be the easiest thing in the world, it would be so easy.
But then instead, you ask, “Why are you a stormtrooper?”
“I’m n-not—I hate the Empire—”
“The Empire is ashes.”  You don’t know if you’re yelling or whispering with how much blood is roaring through your ears.  “They hold no power anymore.  Why are you with them?”
“Because the one thing they have left is money!”  The quarry shrills the words at you, ghostly pale to the point of turning green.  “Th-They buy troopers now—they opened up a whole new market for the smugglers, there’s a base nearby that’s used for training and…”  He stares wide eyed at you and gulps.  “C-Conditioning.”
Your brain is already going a trillion lightyears an hour and it doesn’t have the capacity to empathize or understand anything beyond the child’s survival and the relevant details right now.  “Were they expecting the baby?”
“W-What?”  He squeaks up at you.
“Was the bounty put out on you a trap set by the Empire?”  You ask him, lifting your free arm just enough to flash him the tiny child clinging to your side.  “He said they’re coming after the baby, so tell me if this was planned from the beginning.”
“Who is ‘he’?”  The stormtrooper asks, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around.  “What are you talki—”
“Tell me if the bounty on you was a trap to take this baby!”  You roar, your blaster shaking as you aim it down at him.  Your mind is acutely focused on the tiny claws hanging onto your tunic, the continued safety of the kid and the life or death situation facing him that you were given absolutely no information about.  “Now—”
“If it was I didn’t know!”  He quickly cries out, pleading with you and clamping his eyes shut in terror under the barrel sight.  “I don’t know anything about a b-baby, or a bounty!  They just put blasters in our hands and told us to search for a ship and to bring back anyone we find alive, I swear!”
You’re silent for a moment, biting your lip under the mask and caught halfway between discerning and stalling.  You could still kill him.  You should still kill him, time is ticking down and more troopers could be heading this way any second.
Shit.  “Who put the bounty out on you?”  You ask sharply.  It might not be a completely fair question, but he can’t exactly blame you for not feeling completely fair right now.
“I—I don’t know,” he gasps, clutching his bleeding shoulder.  “Could’ve been anyone—my mother, Cyra, o-or my dad, Obediah, or Thia, or Benja, or S—”
“Thia,” you interrupt his rambling, catching the slurred word and repeating it back to him.
“Yes!”  Oshua jerks his head up, tears and hope immediately filling his eyes at the sound of her name, “Yes, Thiadura Celi Ryler, that’s my sister!”
Maker, if he’s lying, then he’s fucking brilliant at it.  You look towards the cockpit of the ship, biting your lip under the mask.  Get to Nevarro, tell Karga and he’ll… something.  Din was cut off before he finished.  Help?  Know what to do?  You’re lost, but you have a clear directive and the precious seconds are sliding by.  The controls are right up there, two steps to the ladder and less than a minute until you’re rising into the atmosphere.
But then you think back to the terror in Din’s voice.  The blistering panic that made him speak faster and with more urgency than you’ve ever heard from him.  Get to Nevarro.  Tell Karga.  Get to Nevarro.  Tell Karga.
You look back at the quarry.  “How many of you are there?”
“At the base?  Around three hundred,” he immediately spills.  “Half of us are in the hole right now getting brainwashed, they do it in shifts, but they can be mobilized in a few hours.  There were a lot of bodies outside when we were ordered to split off, maybe a third of our squadron, but the rest were still shooting at whatever was—”
“So around a hundred left,”  You finish breathlessly, almost wanting him to speak faster and cut to the chase so you can calculate quicker.  “How many were dispatched on the search?”
“Uh, there were eight groups of five sent in each major direction,” he informs you, still trembling on the ground.  “Told us not to come back until we covered the entire sector.”
Of which, four you’ve already taken care of.  In other circumstances, you’d be nauseated at the thought, but right now, it’s just another number to subtract, just more panicked math in Din’s frightening absence.  That leaves at least sixty troopers left wherever the base is, minimum, and likely a couple more hours before they’ve combed the sector.  If this wasn’t a preconceived trap purposefully set for the kid, then that means reinforcements haven’t arrived yet but likely will soon.  And if this is a base meant for training and conditioning, then that also means there’s a chance not all of them will be loyal yet.
You make the decision immediately.
“Okay,” you announce, clicking the blaster’s safety switch and holstering it, sounding lightyears more certain than you feel.  “Then you’re going to help me carry out a rescue mission, and I’ll take you back to your sister.”
“You…”  He looks uncertain, blinking at your blaster and slowly lowering his hands.  “You want to rescue the men?”
Ideally?  Sure.  Realistically?  You don’t say anything in response.  Instead, you kick his regulation firearm at your feet further away from the quarry just in case your judgment is flawed, and then turn around and grab one of the bodies behind you.
Your adrenaline is still blaring so fast that you only just barely note the severity of what you’ve just done and what you’re continuing to do.  The corpses aren’t real to you right now, they’re inanimate things that you need out of your ship before you can close the doors to it.  They are, however, heavy as fuck, but the only other adult here has a wound in his arm from the gun on your hip.  Regardless, you have experience with lifting dead weight without a big, strong, capable man to do it for you.
“Help me out here, kid,” you mutter over your shoulder, and in response, you feel his claws dig in and climb up just a little bit until he can peek out in front of you.  Thankfully, the burden is suddenly lifted and you can quickly slide the dead troopers down the ramp with ease.  It takes hardly any time at all—you just yank and haul and release and all four of them tumble the rest of the way all by themselves.
When you stand back up, Oshua hasn’t moved and he’s looking at you with a pale, queasy expression.  Glancing down, you see that your white robe is now stained with streaks and patches of rusty blood.  Instead of swallowing back bile at the sight and bolting to the shower to scrub off every last remaining trace, you breeze past it, noting nothing more than a change of color.  Dirtying your white, pristine clothing with the consequences of protecting this baby—you’d rather have blood-soaked fabric with an unharmed kid clinging to you than any other combination of those things.
“Can you make it up to the cockpit?”  You ask the quarry, kicking his rifle off the ship before closing the ramp and then gesturing up the ladder.  Your voice is calm and steady but your hands are beginning to shake again.  “I need as much information as possible about the base.”  You know that’s where Din is, judging from the wall of blaster screeches that drowned him out through the comm.  Logically, you know you could be headed right into a trap, and every instinct inside you wants to find safety, but… you just cannot imagine flying the ship away from this planet without Din onboard.  It isn’t fucking happening, you’ve made your choice.
Without waiting for a response, you climb the ladder and plop down in the pilot’s seat of the Crest.  While Oshua finds some way to clamber up the steps behind you in bulky stormtrooper armor with one good arm, you hold the kid closer on your lap and begin flight checking.  Din will be fucking furious, but the scolding you’ll be sure to get is the least of your worries right now.  Following his instructions and going back to Nevarro is just making shit infinitely more dangerous for him, turning what could be a potential rescue mission into an undeniable suicide mission.  Even if Karga somehow decides to send a few guild members along to infiltrate the base, it’ll be a war you want to avoid.
Besides.  What did you always tell him about running away from him, even when he instructs you to?
It’s just… not really your thing.
---
They’re everywhere.
They crawl like flies out of the base, and for every single body that falls, three more spill from the open doors.  Rapid fire plasma beams launch from the end of Din’s blaster, melting white armor with every twitch of his gloved finger.  Their aim is terrible, as is to be expected, but the sheer number of them more than makes up for it, as is by design.
Din’s heart pounds with exertion, his breath comes in ragged huffs through the modulator as his helmet identifies and isolates which body is closest to him, which body he needs to bring down next.  His blaster is so hot it nearly burns his hand, even through the thick gloves he wears.  When he runs out of ammo, he holsters the pistol and swings his rifle from around his shoulder, spinning to catch a handful of troopers behind him in the obliterating blast.
He’s not thinking much.  He can’t think, even though your safety and that of his son is currently dangling by a thread.  If he focuses on that, he’ll be dead before he can even picture your faces.  He just reacts, he maims and kills without a single thought in his mind.  Blood splatters, screams and sirens blare as he becomes surrounded by more and more troopers.  Din can hear the sound of plasma colliding and ricocheting off his armor; every single one of them is a potential injury he could currently have but might not even be able to feel right now.
His helmet starts beeping rapidly and he turns just enough to see, highlighted in bright red on the screen, two enormous artillery turrets slowly rising up out of the roof of the imperial base.  He feels a fierce flash of anger burn in his chest, it’s like a lightning strike to his veins.
Din needs to go.
And yet… if he was another man.  If he wasn’t a father, or a husband, if he had no family and no attachments like the creed declared he should, he would go.  With just a twitch of his fingers, he could be launching into the sky and retreating as far away from this battlefield as he could reasonably get.  He’s never been the type to run from a threat, but this isn’t just a threat.  Dozens of troopers are gaining on him, they’re trampling their own dead to get within range.  Plasma pings off his shoulder, another one hits his back as they flank from behind.  He can feel the heat through the sizzling beskar, he can see them surrounding him on all sides, and the propulsion trigger for his jetpack is right there under his wrist.
Din holds his ground and continues firing, he plants his feet firmly to the dirt with only one thought in his mind.
Run, sweet girl.  Run.
---
You type in commands to scan for Din’s signal, quickly locating it through the Crest’s computer onboard.  Not far from here, three minutes or less.  The ship rumbles to life beneath you, slowly lifting off the rocky ground and rotating in place as it hovers.  It’s not on autopilot but you feel like you are, you can barely feel your hands as they move the yoke forward and the Crest takes off in the direction of Din’s blinking frequency.
“Tell me about defenses,” you instruct Oshua, restlessly bouncing your leg while the baby coos.
“Two plasma turrets on top of the base,” the quarry quickly answers.  “There’s usually guards stationed around the perimeter, but everyone who’s capable will be outside right now.”
Your mouth twists downwards under the mask.  Blasters don’t scare you much from this high up, but Din’s armor doesn’t cover every inch of his body, he’s not completely invincible.  Doubt churns in your stomach, but you have to stay focused on one task at a time so you don’t get overwhelmed.  The turrets, then.  “Are they automatic?”
“Manual,” he corrects with a shake of his head.
“Radar?”
“Old.  Only engages above fifty meters.”
You eye your altitude and dip the Crest considerably, beginning to weave through the rocky canyons and dodging crumbling cliffs while you travel.  “What about ships?”
“None,” Oshua says, “except for a passenger shuttle used for transport.  TIEs are flown in the Vesta sector, this base is remote and used for basic training only.”
“Anything else?”  You ask, stomach twisting with the knowledge that barely four questions is all you’ve got.  You’re planning to drop into an imperial base to save the man you love and you can’t think of a single other question?  
The quarry shrugs, and your heart slams, does somersaults in your chest at the mere notion that you could fucking die here.  Today, in two minutes or less, you could die here.  The child in your lap looking over the ship’s front panel with a quiet determination in his eyes could die here.  Din could already be dead—that signal broadcasts his location to this computer regardless of whether he’s still breathing or not.  He could already be gone and you’d be flying the baby right into a trap without knowing any differently.
Whelp, you think while taking a deep breath, some strangely calm existential acceptance beginning to flood your soul.  If he isn’t dead, he will be soon if you don’t make it to him on time.
You immediately lift your wrist and speak into the communicator.  “Mando?”  You have no idea if he can hear you, but you need to try anyway.  Your voice is still firm, there’s a strength to it you don’t feel in your chest, but it certainly sounds convincing.  “I’m coming to get you.  Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside.  If you can’t, I’ll just… uh.  Try to figure something else out.”
That’s it.  That’s it, improvise until you don’t have to.  Even if you’re lacking confidence, you can at least scrounge up some conviction.  Your arms gain feeling again while you veer the Crest through the stony terrain, the familiar reverberations under your feet begin to fill your body with a powerful sense of purpose.  Your breaths begin to come steady, every falling rock you see through the transparisteel feels like it drops in slow motion, allowing you to evade them easily.  It would normally be stupidly dangerous to fly this low with so many unexpected obstacles and hazards narrowly missing the ship, but considering what you’re flying into, a few boulders seems comical.
“Where’s your helmet?”  Oshua asks out of nowhere, and for a second, you don’t think you heard him correctly.
But then it strikes you all at once what he’s attempting to imply, and the sheer lunacy of the thought is enough to make you laugh while you clutch the controls.  “I’m not a Mandalorian.”
“You wear the armor of one,” he points out… rather fairly, you have to admit.  “You cover your face like one.  You have a blaster that fires Philithiorium, a rare and expensive gas native to Mandalore’s stratosphere, and you’re a bounty hunter—”
“I’m not a Mandalorian.”  Your words are short and cutting, you have a daunting task to focus on and don’t feel like having small talk right now.  “I’m not a bounty hunter, either.”
But then again, Karga made you a member of the Guild, didn’t he?  He handed you Oshua’s puck and said this one is for you to find, and you are technically part of a Mandalorian clan.  All of this seems like it happened without your knowledge.  You may be marrying a Mandalorian, you may wear his armor and mother his child and shoot a blaster with his signet branded into it, but war isn’t in your blood.  This robe was a costume when you first made it, this armor was a relic that was restored as a hobby.  In a sense, it still feels that way.  The mask covering your face lended itself to a temporary surge of bravery earlier, but beyond that, the only thing that’s keeping you moving forward now is your family.  The man you love that may or may not be alive right now, the baby holding tight to your leg while the ship sways and weaves through the stony landscape.
Your eyes quickly flick down to the child in your lap, both of his three fingered hands clutching onto the stained fabric of your knee without moving a single inch.  He’d know, you tell yourself.  If his father is gone, he’d already know somehow.  Din is still alive, and he’s counting on you.
---
There’s too many for Din to handle.
They swarmed him, overpowered his endless artillery with massive numbers and there’s nothing he can do anymore.  The backs of his knees are kicked from behind and he slams down to the ground with a clatter, his sizzling hot blasters are ripped from him, and Din folds his hands calmly behind his back even as one of the stormtroopers barks out, “Binders,” to another one, who disappears quickly in response.  In the meantime, a few of them apparently decide to just attempt holding his arms in place, and their measly combined grip is almost enough to make him roll his eyes under the helmet.  These imperial soldiers are even more pitiful than they usually are, but his silent resolve to stall to ensure your escape is enough to keep him stationary and compliant for the time being.
Eventually, a few voices call out from beyond the crowd and there’s some movement from the back.  Dozens of troopers with their blasters all pointed at him begin to shuffle to make way, careful to keep their barrels aimed at him while a path slowly forms.  The crowd of white parts and a stormtrooper with a singular red pauldron on his right shoulder saunters confidently towards Din as he kneels on the ground.
An officer, he assumes.  Conveniently missing from the firefight, the scanner inside his helmet would’ve caught the change in color and Din would’ve made sure to kill him first.
“Well now, what do we have here?”  Comes his thin metallic voice through the tinny filter.  The officer studies him curiously for a few moments, before slowly looking down by his feet, reaching out one cheap, plastic covered foot to gently nudge the body of a dead trooper on the ground with a sigh.  “What a shame.”
Coward, he thinks, his lip curling with disgust under the helmet.
“This is an imperial training base,” he turns his attention back to Din to inform him when he doesn’t immediately respond, rather stupidly he might add.  “How were you able to find us?”
Silence.  The grip on hands held behind his back is even looser now.  He just tilts his chin up slightly in defiance, the scanner inside his helmet locating each weapon strapped to the man’s body and highlighting it red.  Small text boxes blink into existence under each one with a manufacturer and classification—a BlasTech E-11 rifle, a Merr-Sonn thermal detonator, a Kolvo vibroblade—and Din is severely unimpressed with the quality.  The detonator is the only weapon that even catches his eye, and that’s only because the chamber inside that houses the explosive baradium has a release mechanism that’s completely dead.  Useless, then.  Good to know.
After a long moment of quiet tension where Din refuses to speak and the officer continues to confidently scrutinize him, in some strange sort of silent battle of egos that only one seems to have a genuine interest in, another stormtrooper makes his way to the front, shoving past his fellow soldiers to address the superior in charge.
“Commander, we’ve sent out an alert for an intruder,” he tells him, slightly out of breath from running through the crowd in the lightweight armor.  Din wants to roll his eyes, but what he says next makes him snap to immediate attention.  “The fleet informed us that Moff Gideon is currently on route.”
Gideon.  The last time someone spoke that name, it was a quarry on Coruscant and you just barely managed to stop Din from suffocating the bastard for even saying it aloud before freezing him in carbonite.  It would’ve meant half the return on a hunt that lasted nearly a month but he saw red and his hand was crushing his windpipe before he realized what happened.  But he’s dead, Din thinks with a clenched jaw and fists tightening behind his back, he watched that TIE fighter explode and slam into the ground, crushing the man inside it.  The wreck was unsurvivable, he can’t be alive.
“For what?  This Mandalorian?”  The trooper in charge scoffs in response, and Din remains completely mute.
“Yes, sir,” the other one confirms.  “Orders were to capture him, alive.”
“Hm.”  The officer turns his attention back to him, less analyzing and more musing while he tilts his head.  “I see,” he eventually says, and he sounds like he’s grinning, before strolling slightly closer as Din stays completely still on his knees.  “He must want the beskar.  I’m sure it’s worth more than this entire battalion combined.”
All of a sudden, a gloved hand carelessly catches the rim of his helmet and tugs, and Din’s movement is explosive.  He launches off the ground, arms easily slipping from the pathetic grip they were being held in and his fist colliding with the side of the officer’s flimsy white helmet, the plastic making a deafening crack against his face.
Multiple hands immediately rush forward to grab him and yank him back down again while the commanding trooper stumbles backwards in shock, and Din amicably drops to his knees and folds his hands behind his back once more like nothing happened at all.
“Binders!”  A trooper behind him roars loudly once more, and a few men surrounding him begin trotting away this time.
The officer in red stands a few feet away from him now, grabbing his helmet and twisting it back to its proper position on his head where it was skewed.  There’s a shattered hole near his jaw where the material splintered and busted like the cheap piece of banthashit it is, and while he might normally feel pleased with himself for being able to see his skin peeking through, it just fills him with more righteous fury.  It’s such a punchable jaw.
After a few awkward moments of silence, the other one clears his throat and continues.  “He… has inquired about the location and status of a child that should be accompanying him.”
Din inhales deeply through his nose and grinds his teeth.  He wants to snap their necks one by one for even just mentioning his son, but there are just too many, more than even his whistling birds can neutralize.  Still, he gave you as much of a head start as physically possible.  You should be rising into the atmosphere right now, making the jump into hyperspace towards safety.  Karga will know what to do—he’ll protect his family, separate you and the boy so the threat is evenly dispersed instead of collected all in one place, and arm dozens of trained hunters to keep watch over you both individually.  It’s the best Din can do, and it’s the only thing keeping his knees planted on the ground and his body completely motionless while they continue speaking.
“We are combing the sector for a ship with as many men as we can afford to lose,” the trooper in red says, but his voice filter is shattered and now sounds like a puny little droid with a broken voice box, “but our numbers are unimpressive.  Assistance may be required.”
It’s too late, Din thinks, mouth twitching under the beskar with a satisfied smirk.  They’re wasting their time, looking for a ghost.  You’re both long gone by now.  They’ve got no idea you even exist—
“He also spoke of a girl.”
And then he feels his heart stop in his chest.  Every single cell in his body turns to fire, it’s a fucking miracle he doesn’t move a muscle in response.  His sweet girl, the one so far removed from the nightmare of the Empire that she made best friends with the orphans of it.  How the fuck did he know?  He shouldn’t even be breathing, let alone gathering information about you, how did he know?
But then Din thinks back, remembering your makeshift bed on the floor, your panicked eyes and heaving chest as the quarry taunted him with a sick little smile.  Who’s this, Mando?  She’s just darling, isn’t she?  Does Gideon know your crew has a lovely new addition?
“A girl?”
The trooper nods.  “Moff Gideon insisted that if the Mandalorian did not have a child with him, then a girl would likely be protecting him instead.”
He’s going to kill them, Din decides.  Every single one of these imperial pigs, every single soldier standing right now is a dead fucking man.  The blood pumping through his body suddenly turns to acid, deadly black hate poisoning his soul.  His heartbeat morphs into a war drum, the armor strapped to his limbs is the barrel of a gun.  He’s going to fucking kill them and leave an imperial base full of bodies to greet his old nemesis upon his return, and he’s going to enjoy every single second of it.
Except, then—
“Mando?”  The sweetest voice in existence suddenly crackles through the earpiece under his helmet.  “I’m coming to get you.  Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside.  If you can’t, I’ll just… uh.  Figure something else out.”
And, as Din kneels there in surrender, surrounded by a crowd of enemies he thought he destroyed long ago, all the anger—all the fury and defiance and murder surging through his veins—suddenly morphs to fear.
The emotion is so foreign and old to him, it feels like a face he barely recognizes and a name he can’t remember.  He’s panicked before.  He’s been in situations where a threat has made him blind with rage, he knows what it’s like to look death straight in the eyes and say that he’s busy and to come back another time.  This is different.  This is ice cold that freezes over beskar.
He can’t speak out loud to warn you—he can’t move his hands to press the button on the back of his helmet and allow him to talk without detection.  There’s plasma turrets on the roof of the base, he can see them right now.  The helmet’s scanners say they’re manned and engaged, and though he is outside and this is how you retrieved him before whenever he needed a quick escape, he has fifty fucking imperial blasters trained on him and you know absolutely nothing about this threat.  You’re flying right into a war zone and if either you or his son dies, he won’t ever be able to forgive himself.
Behind the helmet, his eyes fly to each and every trooper, wondering which blaster will be the one to do it.  Which weapon is going to be the one he can’t block in time when you descend, the one that’ll kill him right in front of you.  Which turret will be the one to obliterate the Crest with you and his son inside of it.
“Maker, where are those fucking binders—” he hears someone behind him snarl, but the white noise of pure terror roaring through his ears drowns them out.  His chest starts heaving against his will, sheer panic begins to blur his vision.  For the first time in his life, his armor feels too heavy, his lungs feel like one of these boulders are sitting on them instead of beskar.
All too soon, his helmet starts making a familiar sound that signals quietly in his ear, alerting him of an incoming ship, and the only thing he can physically do is count down the seconds to prepare himself for what is to come.
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…
Like lightning, Din breaks the grip of multiple troopers and surges up, tackling the officer in red to the ground.  There’s a clatter as they both slam into the rocky floor, but in the ensuing scuffle, he easily snatches the thermal detonator from his side holster and holds it up for everyone to see, before pressing the red button on the front and hearing it begin to beep rapidly.
---
You’re right on time.
The Crest rises up through the rocky cliffs surrounding the base and you spot the turrets you were warned about.  Weapons controls are already engaged and you’re too low to be detected by radar—you fire once, twice, and blast both of them to smithereens from behind before they can even rotate around to target you.
Alarms start wailing but the guns are destroyed.  It’s not comforting, though; blasters won’t touch you up here, but that doesn’t mean they can’t fire at Din on the ground.  Your eyes dart across the sea of white, looking for a flash of silver anywhere, and then you spot him instantly in the chaos.
For some reason, the troopers in his vicinity all seem to be bolting away from him.  Their rifles are down, clutched in their hands while they nearly fall over each other to run away as fast as possible, and your heart soars when you spot his jetpack firing up.  Din launches into the sky while another trooper is revealed underneath him, seeming to juggle something in his hands and then throw it into the crowd of retreating soldiers, but the sight of the man you love rising into the air while a flurry of blaster shots from the far edges of the imperial structure follow him gives you the confidence to immediately turn the guns down towards the horde of troopers.
“Which ones are in charge?”  You ask Oshua breathlessly, who leans forward and points out the transparisteel.
“Red pauldrons—” he barely has time to say it before you aim and fire at one of the troopers wearing red that was closest to Din, the plasma beam launching from the Crest so powerful and devastating that it outright obliterates the surface he’s laying on.  Pieces of shattered armor fly and a smoking crater of rubble is all that’s left behind, but your mind is whirling and you’re already onto someone else wearing red at the edges of the complex, and then two more near the doors, and then another—
To their credit, you think the sixty or so soldiers in training seem to figure out that you’re not aiming into the enormous collection of them.  If you were, the damage would be catastrophic and spraying everywhere, but you’re precise and meticulous with your shots, and the only ones who are loyal enough to the cause to hold still and raise their blasters at the incoming threat tend to be the ones you need to mow down anyways.  The rest of them scatter in all directions, scrambling over each other to escape and then disappearing into the distant boulders surrounding the base—but you notice that not a single one of them runs back inside the safety of its open doors.
The hull dips with the weight of Din dropping in, and relief floods your soul even as you continue raining hell down on the superiors in charge.  Any flash of color you see is a target, your eyes lose focus of everything, your vision blurs and turns monochrome as you just search for red.
“Lift up!”  You hear Din’s voice roar from the hull.  You can hear his rifle unloading through the open door.  “Now!  We have to go now!”
You press the button to shut the hull door with Din inside and punch it, rising so fast that the shove of gravity makes it difficult to keep your head up.  Through the sudden surge of downward force, you just barely manage to raise your incredibly heavy arm to push the button that pressurizes the Crest and ignites the launch boosters, preparing the vessel for space travel.  Outside the transparisteel, the gray sky begins darkening as the atmosphere eventually disappears.  The ship’s engines roar, burning so much fuel at once that you’re actually accelerating through the climb, you’re boosting through the gradual ease of gravity as the planet’s curvature and glow becomes softer and softer below you.
As soon as the blackness of space begins to fill the windows, the slight subsiding of force allows you to plug in the coordinates for Nevarro with less difficulty, but you’re still moving, still rising, still escaping.  You can’t find it within yourself to slow down, but then something catches your attention.
Claws suddenly dig sharp into your thigh, sharp enough to sting and cause you to wince, and you look down to see that the kid has gone incredibly tense.  Deadly tense.  Your heart is still pounding even though you’re away from danger, you’ve got Din in the hull, everyone is safe, and yet—
It flickers into existence all at once.  One second it’s just space, just the endless depths of nothingness spread out for light years in front of you, and within the blink of an eye it’s suddenly there.
A star destroyer.
Your body freezes in horrified awe, having never seen a ship so fucking big in your entire life.  It looks like a massive satellite, the size of an enormous asteroid instantly appearing in your vision and dwarfing the vastness of space around it.  All the stars you used to dream about are suddenly blotted out within a fraction of a second, terror so immense seizes your soul that you stop thinking.  You stop calculating, you stop being yourself for a split second that lasts an entire lifetime.
Before you can move a single muscle, the computer beeps quickly and lurches the Crest into hyperspace.
---
The stars streak across the transparisteel like so many times before.  Utter silence nearly deafens you with how abrupt it is after so much noise, but the peace it used to bring does nothing to quell your fear.  Everything is the same as it always was, same bursts of light as you hurdle faster than it towards Nevarro, same quiet, same rumbling hum of the ship.  But now, everything has changed.
You hear the quarry next to you suddenly inhale and exhale loudly, and it shocks you a little bit, reminds you that there’s a person next to you and another is on your lap.  Other people exist outside of the vision of death that just flickered out of existence just as quickly as it appeared.  They’re breathing, Oshua is shakily unbuckling his seatbelt, life is continuing on in the quiet cockpit but you can’t seem to move like he is.  You can’t seem to breathe like he is.  It’s only when the baby slowly maneuvers himself around on your thigh and blinks up at you, placing a tiny hand on your stomach that you finally feel air enter your lungs.
After a moment, you reach down and click open your seatbelt with trembling fingers, scooping the kid up in your arms and slowly attempting to stand.  Everything feels wobbly and dreamlike, you have to brace yourself on the headrest to prevent yourself from falling back into the chair again.
“That was…” Ryler mutters, his voice sounding foggy and distant, “uh.  A close one.”
You look over at him, recognizing that he’s speaking but not quite able to understand the words right now.  Red catches in your vision, and you blink down at the way he’s clutching his left shoulder, the smear of blood darkening the white armor he’s wearing.  You blink a few more times at the sight of it, and though it feels like you normally would be sickened at the wound, somehow shocked out of your state of shock, it does nothing to you.  When you look back up at his face, his expression seems strangely grateful, even when it’s screwed up in what you know must be excruciating pain.    You did that, a quiet voice whispers in your mind, even though the rest of it seems incredibly blank.
Instead of responding, you stumble a few steps over to the ladder, spinning around and hesitating for a moment.  You’re severely lacking in coherent thought, but one thing seems to break through.  You’re not sure if you have enough coordination to do this safely right now.  However, when there’s movement in your peripheral and you look to see Oshua gently offering his right arm to you, seeming to understand you’d like to use both hands for this, you snap back to your senses just the slightest bit and hug the baby tighter to your chest.  Carefully, you begin making the slow climb down the ladder with the kid, still trembling with the aftershocks of adrenaline.  Your limbs feel extra heavy, but eventually the floor meets your feet.
Din is standing there when you slowly turn around, armor gleaming and still as a statue, but he has his back to you.  His helmet is tilted down at the ground, and when you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of the bloodstains of dragged bodies that leave dark red streaks all the way up the ramp.
You feel something this time.  It’s… cold.  A burning, searing cold that creeps into your skin.  Like your heart decides to pump nitrogen through your chest instead of warm blood.  You did that.
There’s a sudden urge inside of you to speak, to address him and inform him of your presence, tell him everything is okay, everything worked out, but you can’t find it in yourself to say a single word.  You can’t find a single word to say.  The kid twists as best he can in your clutch, his ears drag against your chest to greet his father, but for some reason, there’s still a strange sense of fear in your bones.  It’s enough to wake you up slightly, it’s enough to tell you it’s not over yet.  There’s a terror in your heart that hasn’t left since he first called over the comm and begged you to run, a crippling dread that you thought climaxed after seeing that star destroyer appear, but it’s somehow only increased after laying eyes on him like this.
You watch as his helmet turns, slowly meeting the pauldron on his shoulder, and for some reason, you feel yourself harden.  Your feet brace against the metal floor like this is another threat you have to face, you let its unyielding metallic strength transfer up through the souls of your boots to your heart in your chest.
But the second you hear cheap white armor clatter as the quarry steps down the ladder behind you, Din bursts into movement.  He suddenly spins and storms up to you in one single step while catching your holstered blaster on your hip.  It’s out and aimed in the blink of an eye, and it’s a miracle you remember how to speak before he remembers how to kill.
“Mando—” you warn, just in time for the quarry to land on the floor of the hull and turn around to reveal his face.
Din holds there for a second, his helmet locked on Oshua’s features.  His gloved fingers twitch wildly on the trigger of your gun held over your shoulder, like he has to remind himself multiple times not to.  You hear Oshua’s armor clack while he likely raises one good arm in surrender, but then Din’s helmet moves a fraction of a millimeter to your face and holds there.  He just stares down at you, and the air feels heavy, your body feels heavy, the feather light child in your arms feels heavy.
Slowly, he lowers his arm, lets it fall while he continues looking at you from behind the visor.  You look back at him, unblinking, unfeeling, and there’s a few seconds that last an utter eternity where nobody moves.  Nobody speaks, nothing happens, but then a soft coo comes from your arms before you can finally break eye contact, knowing there are still some things that need to be done.
You eventually turn around and lift your chin to address Oshua.
“You have to go into carbonite,” you inform him quietly.  Your voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from outside of yourself.  “We’re taking you to Nevarro, and then you’ll be transported to your home planet. When they unfreeze you, your sister will be there to collect you.”
He looks uncertain, one hand still raised while the other hangs uselessly at his side, and you don’t blame him.
But you also don’t feel like saying anymore, not unless he decides he doesn’t want to go in willingly.  Normally you might’ve tried to empathize, offer him further reassurance beyond just a couple short sentences, but you don’t.  Speaking feels difficult, thinking feels difficult.  You’re still in survival mode, not active but reactive.  There’s also no reason for you to lie to him about this, and you can see him glance at Din standing silently behind you, who hasn’t moved a muscle.
He eventually nods and you walk him over to the chamber without another word, watch him turn to face you as he backs into the opening while you reach up towards the control panel.
But then there’s a moment.  One where you hesitate slightly, one where your vision flashes back to the sight of those bloodstains on the floor, and that burning cold fills you again, so cold it feels completely numb.
“I’m… sorry,” you whisper quietly to him, though your voice sounds so empty.  There’s so much emotion that should be there but isn’t, so much regret and pain that should break through but can’t.  “I’m sorry I… killed your friends.”
Later, you’ll think about how you felt absolutely nothing saying it.  Your heart doesn’t constrict with remorse at the mere words leaving your mouth, guilt doesn’t flood into your soul, pain doesn’t wrack through your bones.  You could’ve been saying anything at all and nobody would be able to tell the difference.
He blinks at you, flicking his eyes between yours for a second or two, but then you press the proper button and watch the gas quickly freeze him where he stands.  He’ll be conscious the entire time, but Karga will send him to the correct location and you have no doubt that this elemental purgatory is leagues better than where he just escaped from.  It’s a benefit being the last quarry to be retrieved—he’ll only have to spend a few days trapped in here before being reunited with his family.
When that’s done and Oshua is a complete statue in front of you, bulky white armor now colored a dull metallic gray and frozen in time, you will yourself to finally turn around to face the enormous mountain of a presence behind you.  The baby gently reaches out for him, but Din doesn’t move from where he’s stood.  Your blaster is still clutched tightly in his hand, and he isn’t looking at you.
Slowly, you walk over and stop directly in front of him in the middle of the hull, blinking at him while the helmet subtly moves to lock onto your face.  The kid begins wiggling in your arms, making soft impatient noises while you both stand in complete silence across from each other.
After a few moments, you hear him flick your blaster’s safety on by his side and then toss it carelessly to the ground.  It skids along the floor, light enough to be mostly quiet.  Gloves reach out as he carefully takes the kid from you and settles him in the crook of one arm, and then he looks you up and down, still not saying anything.
Your eyes follow his movement, watching his arm slowly reaching out to you, and you think he’s going to cup your jaw, or brush your hair back.  Give you some sort of physical reassurance since he hasn’t spoken a single word of it.
Instead, Din suddenly grabs the armor clinging to your chest and starts ripping it off you with one hand.  It clangs to the floor so loudly in the silence of hyperspace, the kid’s ears twitch and flutter with each shattering bang.  You hold still while he does it, you barely respond except the unavoidable movement your body experiences as the pauldron is yanked from your shoulder and thrown against the ground.  The ammo belt is tugged over your head and hurled away, the thigh braces are snatched from your legs and they clang to the floor, and the pearly, opalescent fabric revealed underneath is stained in dead man’s blood, rusty and in such great quantities that it shows up as brown instead of red.
“Are you hurt?”
He sounds… dead.  So monotonic that you can’t possibly gauge his emotional state.  He doesn’t move.   His fists don’t clench, he says every single word like it means the same exact thing as the last.  If nothing at all was a person who could speak, they’d use his tone of voice.
“No,” you eventually whisper.
The helmet nods once, and then he spins around and walks away without anything else.  Without saying anything, without touching you, or double checking you for injuries in case you were lying.  You stand utterly still while Din climbs the ladder with the kid cradled in one arm, and you don’t even flinch when the door to the cockpit slides shut behind him.  You have no idea how long you stand there in the splitting silence afterwards, numb and unmoving.
You feel… nothing.  Absolutely nothing.
The hard defenses you strapped to yourself today to reconcile the things you had to do are still high and strong, guarding your soul even if he stripped away your physical armor.  Self preservation is still animating your body, and your facial expression barely changes.  Your first thought, as soon as you remember that you can have one, is that there are things that still need to be done.  Tasks to complete.
Alone, you shower the lingering traces of blood off your body, the normally clear and refreshing water running a sickly, toxic brown.  Alone, your stomach rolls and suddenly decides to empty itself of the very little that was in it as the scalding drops rain down over you—mostly liquid and bile that easily rinses down the drain.  The water is too warm, it beats down on you like blazing hot sand pelting your skin in the desert.  You feel like you did those first few months with Din, where the silence was suffocating, where you’d only interact with the baby if he was on a hunt or if you could tell he didn’t know how to calm him when he was fussy.  If you were in hyperspace, you usually spent time by yourself in the hull while he lived in the cockpit, and if he decided he needed to be in the hull for whatever reason, then you’d trade places with him.  It was… isolating.  Lonely by yourself.  The quiet used to haunt you before it became your cherished friend, but now it’s a betrayer, a ghost that whispers memories and nightmares in your ears.
When you finally finish rinsing the blood from your skin and get dressed, you see the sheets that used to make up your bed now have fried holes in them from your charred plasma marks, the inside of the hull is covered in them and the trails of dried blood where you dragged the bodies down the ramp.  Your armor is still strewn about the hull, the kid’s hovering shield lays dead in the corner.  Everything you meticulously cleaned and organized and collected and created, now the scene of a bloodbath.  One committed by your hand, your blaster still laying uselessly on the floor forever linked to this atrocity.
You spare a glance towards the ladder, but you don’t want to come face to face with Din yet.  You already knew he’d be furious, but… you had hoped that he’d at least…
What?  At least what?  Comfort you?  Coddle you after you deliberately ignored his instructions?  What exactly, in the past year or so of learning Din’s inner workings and intricacies, would ever give you the impression that he’d come give you a big hug after you purposefully defied him?  You flew the kid directly into an imperial base after being told to protect him, you ignored every order he gave to you in the moments he thought would be his last, and though you did it to save his life, you have a feeling that Din has never valued his life even a fraction of what you do.
The misery stabs at your soul, but your mind is finally beginning to process things logically.  He’s alive, the kid is alive, the quarry is secure, and you’re all onboard the safety of this ship hurtling through hyperspace where nobody, not even the Empire, can touch you.  You weighed the consequences before making your decision, you did what you had to do.  If he wants to be mad, then he can fucking well be mad and you’ll find some way to comfort yourself.  At least he’s here being mad, at least he’s alive and safe and breathing and mad, and your rare act of disobedience is to thank for that.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s probably easier than it should be to reconcile the punishment.  Right now, you welcome the exclusion, the negativity and sorrow beating itself into your soul.  Four innocent people died today on this ship, gunned down under your blaster while they panicked and ran for cover.  You keep hearing their screams.
So you start to clean up the hull, needing another task to focus your thoughts on.  You work to erase every inch of the evidence of your deeds, make it disappear like the pool of blood Din once cleaned up while you were sleeping and never acknowledged again.  You only allow the bloodstains to fuck with your head for a single moment, and then you swallow back the nausea until you’re a blank slate again and sink to your knees with a rag in your hand.  After that, your vision stops focusing and it just becomes red contrasting against gunmetal gray, and you work tirelessly to get rid of all remaining traces of it.
Then you start on the blaster marks, you need them gone.  After a few informed attempts at mixing cleaning chemicals, you find one concoction that allows you to wipe them away like they’re nothing more than dirt that got tracked in.  The Crest’s oxygen recycling system works overdrive to constantly purify the air so you don’t get high or pass out, but your nose still stings.  It’s fine, it’s sterile, it burns a bit but it smells sharp and metallic and keeps you hyper focused on the task at hand.
After that’s done, you pick up the charred blankets and ball them up to throw into the trash vent.  You don’t feel anything as you do it.  You don’t think about how long it took you to collect these over months and months of being stuck on this ship, how comfortable they were when everything else was industrial and rigid, how many nights you spent with Din curled up in their softness while he breathed easy and warm.  Sheets are just luxuries, they can afford to be lost.
Next, you gather your armor and wipe it down with the rag, put it away along with your blaster.  The stained robe goes in the trash, along with the sheets and the blood soaked cloth you used to clean everything.  They’re all ruined, you’ll never be able to make them right again.
The hull is sparkling clean when you decide to take another shower.  Nothing on you is dirty except your hands, but you feel filthy.  Wrong, cold, numb, cold, stained, cold.
After scrubbing your skin raw under the water and changing clothes again, since you don’t really know what to do with yourself anymore, you slowly climb the ladder to the cockpit, keeping perfectly silent.  When you reach the upper platform and come face to face with the closed door, you can just barely hear Din’s whispered voice speaking quietly to the baby beyond it.
You raise your hand for a moment, hovering your knuckles over the metal, but then it eventually falls.  Instead, you look over and spot the corner, the same corner Din bunched himself into when he snapped at you for even suggesting going on a hunt with him, blew up at you for the mere notion of something happening like what happened today.  You back yourself into it in defeat and slowly sink down on the floor, resting your head against the metal and hugging your knees to your chest since you don’t have a tiny baby to take their place.
You can’t sleep.  You don’t even try, it’s pointless.  The concept feels foreign the longer you sit here by yourself.  You don’t hear Din or the baby anymore, but you feel… so fucking awful that it’s fitting that you don’t knock or go looking.  You don’t want to hold that sweet child with hands that were covered in blood just a few hours ago.  You killed more people than you can count on your fingers today, and of the ones who had done nothing wrong…  They screamed like younglings, ducked for cover and were able to fire off one single useless shot in the mayhem before you closed their eyes forever and left their bodies to rot in armor that wasn’t ever their choice to wear.
You didn’t know they were kidnapped and smuggled and forced into that situation.  You couldn’t have known, but that isn’t the point.  In this case, knowing doesn’t make one bit of difference.
You also can’t face Din yet, not like this.  You don’t want him to see you cowering, shattered with guilt over the decisions you made under pressure.  How will you ever get him to forgive you for not listening to him when you can’t even forgive yourself for the result of your choices?  Din is a hardened man who grew up in blasterfire and bloodshed, just because you love him doesn’t mean he’s going to magically become someone he isn’t.  You’re here letting guilt sink sharp claws into your chest over four dead men when he had a good fifty or more corpses scattered on the battlefield around him.  You decided to wear that armor, you decided to fly into an imperial base with the kid on your lap, and this is now your penance.  You’ll accept it with your back straight and your chin held high.
Figuratively, of course.  Physically, you’re smaller than you’ve ever been.  Crumpled up into a ball, taking up as little space as possible, curling up as tight as you can like an animal protecting all your vulnerable parts during a brutal attack.
So, since he isn’t here to comfort you himself, you just try to think about what he would tell you.  A long time ago, what would he tell you?
Din would tell you… that you killed someone.  Multiple people, this time.  He’d also tell you that it doesn’t matter what he tells you, what you could have reasonably foreseen or what you should have done.  The end result won’t change.  You own this now.  You’ll carry their deaths with you.
You take a few deep breaths, self-soothing with the undeniable truth that would be murmured matter of factly from his quiet voice.  He wouldn’t argue with you.  He wouldn’t deny the decisions you made or the consequences of them.  It happened, and at the end of the day, you either learn how to handle that, or you don’t.
And, for the four you did shoot, you were responsible for freeing ten times that amount.  You’re responsible for reuniting Oshua Ryler with his family, even if your place in yours is momentarily shunned.  You’d rather be out here alone than in there with the kid, wondering where his dad is or if he’s even still alive.  You rescued Din and now he gets to be here to shut this door on you, hold his son, and whisper calm reassurances to him.  If you listen really hard and imagine, you can pretend they’re for you, too.
That’s it.  Focus on them both, alive and well together.  Focus on the bodies wearing white armor that were moving, the ones that were bolting away from the imperial training base as fast as they could, free from the torture of imprisonment and conditioning.
Finally, you close your eyes and slip into unconsciousness.  It’s not a testament to your exhaustion, but rather just how long you’ve been left to sit here by yourself.  Hours, maybe.  Time is strange in hyperspace.
You dream of a faceless man ringing bells.
---
When you wake up, a small baby has been placed in your arms, and you’re being dragged into a strong, secure beskar hold on the floor.
“Din,” you suddenly lift your head as soon as you’re conscious and nearly bonk it into solid metal, apologies rising in your throat before you even remember where you are.  You did what needed to be done to keep your family alive and together and you’d do it a thousand times again if necessary, but that doesn’t mean you won’t apologize anyways.  After the deeds you’ve committed today, regret feels as natural on your lips as speaking your own name.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know you’re mad at me but I—”
“Shh,” he whispers, running his gloves through your hair.  He’s still wearing his helmet, he hasn’t taken anything off yet.  “Don’t say anything.  Just… stay here, stay right here with me.”
“I tried to save you,” you croak, tears instantly flooding your eyes.  You did save him.  You saved him and the baby and yourself but you’re so physically and emotionally exhausted that all you can recall is your intent.  “I tried.  Wasn’t gonna leave you there by yourself.  I tried to be brave, like you—y-you wouldn’t have left without me.”
His arms tighten around you, cradling you in such a strong embrace that you burrow into him, you find a place for your head on the hard metal strapped to him and bury yourself there, wishing that you had shovels of dirt being piled on you to justify the death you still feel staining your soul.  Your heart is starting to pound now that you’re remembering, your body is starting to shake with tremors of shock now that you’re aware of your own skin again.
“I was so sc-scared, Din, I didn’t—didn’t know what was happening,” you lament through watery eyes, gasping it out in hopes that it’ll relieve the slightest bit of the gut wrenching guilt just mercilessly crushing you.  It caught you before you could protect yourself against it, that armor you built around yourself isn’t on when you first wake up.  “I-I didn’t want to kill them, but they were already on the ship and y-you said—you said they were coming after the kid s-so I had to, I had to—”
“Stop,” Din whispers, voice so quiet that you can barely hear him.
“I-I cleaned up the blood,” you turn your face against the cold beskar to let all the positives you listed for yourself before scrape across your throat.  They don’t sound comforting anymore, they just sound like excuses.  “It’s gone, it’s like it never happened, everything is okay now, I got the quarry, I protected the baby, I saved a bunch of people, you’re both safe—”
“Stop,” he chokes out.  The modulator cuts off before you can hear his next breath, but you feel it shudder under your body.  “St-Stop it, please.”
Your eyes clench shut so tightly you feel like the streaking stars outside are behind them, tears drop down against his pauldron and you press your face tighter to it like it’s a wound, like the pressure will somehow ease the bleeding.
“Listen to me,” he says very quietly, and you instantly brace yourself.  The walls you just let down shoot right back up, your body physically tightens in preparation for another pain, another trauma, another scar you’ll carry, and you stop shaking.  You stop breathing, even when his hand comes up to ease your face away from his armor.
“You,” he whispers, holding your chin so you’re staring right at him, and your eyes flick fearfully in between his behind the visor, “are a sweet girl.”  Din’s leather thumb brushes along your skin, dragging over the tears below your puffy eyes.  “Not,” his voice catches, “a Mandalorian.”
Your heart goes cold.  Again, everything turns numb.  It doesn’t matter that you already said this yourself out loud earlier today.  It doesn’t matter that you acknowledged this fact, verbally insisted it more than once to hammer home the truth and felt some sense of comfort in it.  For some reason, hearing the words from his mouth is a fucking knife to your chest.
“I taught you how to fight, how to shoot a blaster,” he murmurs, thumb catching every single tear that continues to fall as he speaks.  “I taught you everything I know, everything that’s been taught to me.  I taught you how to defend yourself, how to protect yourself when you’re in danger.  I gave you your blaster, I gave you my armor, I gave you everything I could give you to keep you safe.  And when I thought you were ready, I let you loose on Sanctuary II.  Do you know why I did that?”  The helmet tips forward the slightest bit at the question, probing deep into the most shattered part of your heart.  “After all those months of fighting, and shooting, and training, do you know why I told you to run?”
You blink silently at him, a shaky breath quaking through you, and your expression wants to crumple under the reprimand.  You’re so fragile right now, taking hit after hit after hit to the softest parts inside you, and you want to just give up.  Let the guilt and remorse take you, let it wash you away.  But then, instead…
There’s a flicker of something inside you.  Something strong, endlessly strong, and it makes you want to revolt against what he’s saying.  It replaces the hurt and fear and desperation for comfort with a strange sense of insurgence, like it did earlier when you were hiding behind a boulder, cowering and trembling and not wanting to die.  You’re filled with a quiet urge to defend yourself in the face of this, stand up for yourself and refuse to be beaten down any longer.
“Because you needed to know how to escape danger,” he answers himself when you don’t.  “You needed to know how to disappear, how to outsmart any pursuer and find safety, even the trained ones.  Especially the trained ones.  Anything else was meant to be your last resort.  Not your choice.  Not something you chose.”
“I couldn’t leave you,” you admit to him quietly, voice shaky and tears still coming even as you try to speak up for yourself.  The regret you carry has nothing to do with this, and you decide right now that you won’t feel bad for saving him.  Your hurt comes from the meaningless things, the ones without any need whatsoever, not the necessary ones, and you tried.  You repeated his words to yourself over and over again, told yourself to run, told yourself to get to Nevarro, and it wasn’t going to happen.  “I couldn’t do it.  It wasn’t a choice.”
“It was,” he tells you.  He says it softly, whispers it like it’s the gentlest thing in the world, but the power and inherent distance of the armor strapped to his body finds its way into the words.  “And it was the wrong one.”
“What was I supposed to do?”  You ask, just a hint of that rebellion swimming to the surface now, rising out of the waves of self doubt, the one that feels like a spine growing in your back, an energy coursing through your veins that makes your heart start to beat faster.  Din’s hand slowly drops from your cheek but you don’t care.  “Was I supposed to run away and just let you die?”
“Yes.”  It’s quick and blunt and completely emotionless.  Delivered like a punch to the vulnerable parts of yourself he taught you how to protect, and the utter silence following this single word is comparable to the physical pain you learned to defend against.  It jabs hard against everything good and sweet and tender inside of you, and you’re left speechless even as he continues impassively.  “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.”
It takes a second, but then that unfamiliar feeling suddenly surges up, breaches with the power of an entire ocean.  Your voices may be nothing more than whispers in the dark, you may be clinging to each other, holding each other with the softest, gentlest love in your hearts, but the strength of your conviction on this would rip metal apart.
“No.”  The word holds the might of your entire being, and it stands alone and defiant in the face of everything you fear, everything that threatens you, him, and this child.  Never.  You’ll die before that happens.  “I love you, and there’s nothing in this galaxy that would ever make me do that.  Not fear, not danger, not the Empire, nothing.  Not even you.”
Din stares at you.  His visor reflects your hardened expression back to you, the force in your soul and the purpose in your eyes, and you don’t even realize the gravity of what you just said because like your love for him, gravity is a constant.  It’s a fundamental truth cemented into the rules that govern your actions and it stays true no matter where you are, no matter what terror you face, or how scared you become.  You have him, you have this little boy in your arms, and if that’s all you have, then you have everything.
After an eternity of this, of feeling his eyes pierce deep into you from behind the helmet while you refuse to wither under his stare, you watch him slowly turn and look down, landing on the sleepy child tucked between you both.  He holds there for a long time, before finally whispering, so quiet that the modulator barely picks it up, “It was the wrong choice.”
You stay quiet.  It happened.  What’s done is done, you can’t change the past.  He can scold and reprimand you about this as much as he wants, but you did the right thing and that decision is the only reason he’s even here to be able to do so.  This exhausted child was reunited with his father because of your choices, and this exhausted father was reunited with his child.  You won’t argue anymore, but it’s a certitude that lives deep in your heart now, builds a home there right alongside the both of them.  Din eventually looks up, his eyes find yours again behind the visor, and his hand rises once more to gently cup your jaw.
“I… thought I’d enjoy seeing you in my armor,” Din finally whispers.  It’s not what you expected, but his voice sounds… weak.  Broken.  “You wore mine once before, and it was…”  He brushes his thumb along your cheek, and then his head shakes slightly, pushing the thought away.  “It wasn’t real.  It didn’t fit.  It dwarfed you, it made you look out of place, it made everything soft and innocent about you stand out.  I liked it because it wasn’t real.”
“Was it… really that bad?”  You whisper back, partially to ease the tension just slightly but quickly breaking eye contact with him when you realize it doesn’t land correctly, it just sounds self conscious and sad.  You try to find that conviction again, that strength and assurance that propped you up so sturdily before, but…  Not a Mandalorian, he’d said.  Of course not.  Of course not.
“It wasn’t the armor.”  Din gently tugs up on your face so that you look at him again.  “It was you covered in blood.  It was you purposefully putting yourself in danger.  You killed multiple armed soldiers of the Empire, you dragged their bodies off the ship.  And then you flew into an imperial base, where you killed the officers, too.  You…”  He shakes his head slowly at you while speaking, and although you can’t see his face, you don’t need to in order to hear the horror in his voice.   “You… collected a quarry… in the middle of a massacre, sweet girl.”
Not a Mandalorian.
“You don’t chase down bounties,” he tells you.  “You don’t fly into war zones.  You don’t kill imperials, you don’t collect quarries, you don’t sacrifice yourself, or our son, to save me.  You said you tried to be brave… like me.”  His fingers tighten against your cheek, he dips his helmet to make sure you understand.  “I’ll never ask you to be brave.  I’ll ask you to survive.”
“I’m… sorry,” you finally whisper, and his arm drops from your cheek to join the other in wrapping around you and holding tight.  They hug you and squeeze, encasing you and the baby in a beskar shield and staying there for a long time.  Long enough for you to tuck your head back into its proper place under his helmet, long enough to start to feel okay with the silence again.  It brutalized you the last time you were surrounded by it, it made you feel alone and desolate and barren inside.  You greet it warily now, settling into it for an unknown amount of time until it’s forgiven once more.
After a while, Din quietly breaks it.
“How many?”  He murmurs to you.  You already know exactly what he’s asking, there's no more clarification necessary on his behalf.
You slowly close your eyes and think back to the smoldering craters, the blood soaked ramp, the fear in Oshua Ryler’s eyes as he begged you not to kill him.
“That didn’t deserve it?”  You ask, clenching your eyes tighter at the memory.  “Four.”
And maybe, maybe six or eight months ago, you would’ve begged for some guidance on how to reconcile that.  Hell, maybe a few hours ago, you could’ve used his arms around you exactly like this, his low voice repeating the same things he’s already told you before, over and over again, if only for some semblance of stability when everything feels turbulent and uncertain.  You’ll never be able to change it, though.  This belongs to you now.
This time, all Din says is, “I’m sorry, too.”
And that covers everything.
The silence envelops you both again, but… there’s something else.  Something that still sits deep in your worries, an image that isn’t a scar of what’s happened but a dread of what’s to come.  You need to tell him.  You don’t feel like saying it, you don’t want to speak it aloud for fear of bringing it into existence, but you need to tell him.
“Din?”  You breathe out, and he makes a soft noise in his throat while cuddling you on the floor.  “I saw…,” you whisper, every word sitting tight and reluctant in your throat.  “Right when we made the jump, I was looking through the window and I-I saw…”
“A star destroyer.”  He says it like… like it’s the worst thing in the world and also completely expected at the same time.  He says it like he already knew, yet can’t even imagine.  You lean every bit of your weight against him since you can’t hold him in return, squish him as best you can against the small corner and curl up even tighter in his arms for comfort.
He takes a deep breath, a shuddery sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard him make before.  It holds untold anxiety, unsaid conflict, uncertain action, an unknown path forward.
“I don’t know what to do,” Din eventually whispers to himself, to you, to the baby in your arms.  His voice is barely a breath through the modulator, his fingers digging into your skin with how many emotions he’s repressing.  “What do I do?”
He sounds so distressed that you automatically feel your soul find the floor—instantly, you become steady and calm and you locate all that rationality that kept you going today.  All your worries still twist deep down, all the guilt and the turmoil wrestles with your soft, easy nature until you can only find bits and pieces of it in the most vulnerable places inside you, but if he’s struggling this terribly, then the least you can do is offer some good, true, unwavering faith in times of uncertainty.  You’re in hyperspace, everything worked out, and it’s going to stay that way for right now.  If he doesn’t know how to talk about it yet, then you trust him enough to wait for him.
“It’ll be okay,” you tell him with a newfound confidence and purpose, carefully easing the baby into one arm so that the other can find its way to the other side of his helmet and pull him closer.  Din tucks his head and allows you to brush your lips against the metal, whisper the words soft and steady to him.  “We’ll figure it out together.”
---
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@cptnbvcks thank you so much for the incredible art!
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leighbaylee · 7 months ago
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🖤 ₊˚⊹ — eldest daughter of the malfoy family (1) #DISCONTINUED
parring ➵ draco malfoy x sibling f!reader
summary ➵ family portraits with your little shit of a younger brother.
age of parring ➵ 16 - 18
warnings ➵ fluff
extra ➵ might become a multi - part series, but don’t take my word for it. reader’s middle name is named after bellatrix. thanks to @cafekitsune for banners! second chapter here.
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here you were in the manor, in your large but dull gloomy dark room. subtle touches of your personal belongings scattered all about.
you’ve gotten news from your father, lucius, that the family was gonna retake yet another family portrait, it would’ve bugged you then but it happened every year. so what could’ve you done?
you were touching up your hair, defining your blowout and pining it up in a nice up - do, as your mother, narcissa, requested. you applied your favorite lipstick/lipgloss before you heard footsteps approaching.
you looked through the reflection of the mirror on your vanity as you added your desired pair of earrings, some bracelets, and layering some necklaces. the final touch being a matching ring you had with draco.
it was a simple stacking ring, engraved with your full first name, middle inital, following with the complete last name on it. you had a matching one with draco.
DRACO L. MALFOY — Y/N B. MALFOY
the baby of the family, who has grown to a young man, walked in without knocking. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, draco got the memo.
❝ m-may i come in? ❞
❝ you are already in. ❞ you scoffed softly, noticing the scowl on his face.
❝ sorry. ❞ he said blandly, you replied saying ❝ don’t worry about it dray, i need your help anyway. ❞
you sat up, walking up to a full length mirror in the left corner of your bedroom, draco following behind.
you fixed any sort of crimple and wrinkle on your dress whatsoever with a whip of your wand.
you presented yourself with a elongated black maxi dress, with a slit on the left side revealing your leg, the bust lined with black lace detailing, the same detailing of the thin straps.
you sported a pair of black crystal covered pointy toe high heels, a beautiful glamorous black cluster crystal on top of it. it was from a muggle high - end store, something along the lines of jimmy choo.
you ran your hands every curve, admiring yourself and catching a glimpse of your dark mark on your left arm, running your hand up and down the same arm.
as you did so, you were unaware of what draco was thinking.
draco malfoy, disliked by his fellow peers in the same year, most in a complete different house, known for his undeniable prejudice toward blood status.
one thing he was also known for was you, and he knew that of course.
anytime anyone would look, speak, or even breathe around you, he would always and constantly eye them.
he would clench his fist anytime someone would utter a bad mouth about you and disregard you as a person. no matter who it was, he would walk past and shove them so hard on purpose with no hesitation.
he absolutely hated people who would do so, cause you usually never did anything to anyone. back when he was a second year, you being in your third year, when the heir of slytherin was petrifying muggle borns, he never heard the end of it with the accusations of you being the heir.
reconnecting with the present, he looked at you lovingly with his hands in his blazer pockets. how he blazingly loved his older sister. every little thing you did, he always and never thought you weren’t the best at.
❝ you look beautiful sister. ❞ he said softly.
❝ you really think so? don’t you think its too much? ❞
he chuckled responding spontaneously with, ❝ too much or too little, you always look gorgeous. ❞
❝ oh i love you so much brother. ❞ you sighed placing you hands on his face kissing his forehead, being able to easier because of the shoes you were wearing.
you grabbed you favorite purfume, spritzing some on your wrists, collarbones, behind your ears. then spraying some near draco, giggling as he waved his arms coughing trying to prevent getting a feminine fragrance from attaching to his clothing.
❝ let’s be on our way now, mother and father have been holding up long enough. ❞ you ordered.
he enterwined his arm with yours eyeing down at your shoes, being patient with you as you have a disadvantage of walking quickly.
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the both of you reached the hallway, sounds of clicking and clacking shoes echoed throughout the halls. draco was talking about the new school year at hogwarts approaching, to say he was displeased would be understatement.
the both of you kept walking til you guys reached the wall full with frames of family pictures. from the moment lucius and narcissa were engaged, their wedding ceremony, your birth, draco’s birth, both of you and draco’s first year at hogwarts ; and so on.
one picture caught your attention, you grimaced.
it was when you were starting in your fifth year and draco in his forth. the thing that bothered you so much was you short hair phase and short your dress was. it was way to provocative for a sixteen year old.
listen your hair would’ve been so adorable if you have gotten layers but oh well.
❝ oh my god. i looked ghastly! ❞ you almost shrieked.
❝ i cannot believe you let your little brother walk out like that. ❞ uttered draco disapprovingly.
it then turned into a five minute rambling of you calling your younger brother cute and squealing at his undefined face back when he was eleven.
draco only flushed and continued letting his older sister call him names he hasn’t been called in years, he was pulling on your dress mumbling for you to quit it.
unknowingly to the both of you, narcissa was watching her eldest daughter and baby son holding hands and giggling at each other’s portraits, telling stories of the days each portrait was taken.
how it made her happy knowing draco had you watching over him and growing up with a role model, regardless of the both of you growing up, you and draco will always be her children.
❝ draco, y/n, it’s time to get going. your father and aunt bellatrix are getting impatient. ❞
❝ sorry mother.❞ the both of you said in unison, quickly walking to in front of her.
narcissa stood on his tip toes, even with heels on, and kissed draco and you on the cheek, caressing her towering children as she smiled at.
❝ cmon now, run along! ❞
draco quickly ran to narcissa’s left side as you stayed on her right, both of you simultaneously wrapping your arms around hers and made your way out to the center of the manor.
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lucius checked his watch groaning at the fact that his children are almost twenty minutes late to the shoot.
bellatrix cleared her throat impatiently, she had to meet with the dark lord in an hour, she wouldn’t be able to unless her niece and nephew were aware of the time.
nacrissa came in with a smile, one that both her sister and husband noticed in a heartbeat.
❝ narcissa, where is y/n and draco? ❞ asked lucius asked blandly, bellatrix glanced wanting to know.
before narcissa could answer, you and draco came in, making unnecessary fixes to your hair and outfits, holding out a compact mirror in front of the both of you.
❝ oh, my beautiful niece! you really outdid yourself, come here my sweet! ❞ bellatrix cooed as you smiled and closed the compact, walking up to her.
kisses were being plastered all over your face, lucius signaling draco to come up to his father.
draco went up and watched as his father fixed his tie silently chuckling at the sight of his beautiful daughter all dolled up.
❝ sorry father, it was my fault draco was late. i would’ve been at lot earlier if i hadn’t kicked him out of my room. ❞ you exclaimed softly.
❝ that’s quiet alright y/n, i should’ve known it takes young ladies a quite amount of time to prepare themselves. ❞ he grabbed your arm reassuringly.
❝ you know where to go, take the lead draco, y/n. ❞
you and draco obliged and went down to the living room and sat together in a forest green velvet vintage lounge chair holding hands, as the adults stood behind.
a couple of pictures, mixing it up quite often, it was finally the malfoy children portraits.
sitting down, standing up, backsides, and many serious and some smiling pictures later, the both of you hugged and you reminded draco how much you appreciated him.
the both of you snapped back into reality facing the wizarding world equivalent of a camera in surprise as a flash blinded the both of you, laughing at the moment that would make this yearly family portrait tradition memorable.
୨⎯ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡 ⎯୧
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brights-place · 11 months ago
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Clay x sassy fem! Reader Nsfw and sfw headcannons?
When I say sassy I mean she’s bold, straight forward, annoyed easily and other stuff. She’s strong headed and doesn’t take no for a answer type of sassy, and maybe bratty during sex too👀…
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Clay with an sassy S/O
Pairings: Clay X Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Smut and NSFW content MDNI! A/N: These are for those freaky people and clay simps I'm talking about me aswell yall... I love clay so much AHEM! Anyways I'm not gonna be on tumblr for alot cause yk Im prepping for some stuff for the next couple of weeks!
SFW
- You being sassy is so entertaining for him
- You being straight forward and bland makes him snicker especially when Viva tries to do something dumb with the two of you when hanging out You'd be most of the time voice of reason and clay also being an voice of reason for an slight amount before giving in so you are one who has to take control
- Loves how you can be bratty and rude towards people but can melt in his hands easily if he praises you for the smallest things
- When you get annoyed he soothes you easily by placing an hand on your arm or shoulder
- You two would be an power duo for work situations and just for your personal life - he tangles your and his hair and tail together as he tries to hold you back from going to insult or punch someone cause they talked smack about Clay and Viva (I headcannon they have tails, claws, fangs and paws cause its so cute)
- He loves when seeing you stand up for other trolls when needed and was so determined to make all putt putt trolls safe!
-he pretends that he hates when you act out and get pissed but secretly he loves when you're a brat and enjoys the sight
- He loves how bold and straight forward yet sassy you are but you are so different in bed (NEHEHHEHEHEHE *gremlin noises*)
NSFW
- OHOHOHOHO I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS
- He could be rough some days and soft on others it depends how you act but since your sassy and bratty he snickers. - When he was trying to work once you kept touching him groaning and whining about wanting him - When he said no to not letting in cause he was busy with work you literally left for an moment before appearing under his desk smirking up at him
- Clay wouldn’t admit it but when your bratty he enjoys it so much cause he can make you submit to him later on after he fucks the brains out of you
- When your being bratty and whine he likes to put you in your place
- biting hard and leaving hickeys as he grips onto your waist and thighs a bunch of times, whispering praises and degrading words against your ear
- Loves how he makes you whine after you kept trying to fight back for dominance but failing and you end up hiccuping in pleasure
- Overstimulates you so much
- Teases you he would just slowly thrust in and out of you or tease the tip of your member as you beg for him for more and cling to him sobbing
- When you continue being sassy he enjoys it so much and likes to place you in different positions while tugging your hair back
- decided to Mirror fuck you to show how he makes you feel this good and that you should obey him more while your drooling and he leaves marks on your skin
- He loves having control when you are doing it so he likes stopping his movements on purpose just to hear you whine and beg for him to go back to railing you
- He can be very cold, teasing you just to rile you up to see if you don't follow the rules and try be more straight forward and bratty.
- Uses overstimulation as punishment will force orgasm after orgasm until you are crying, begging for him to stop obviously you still wanna continue it though.
- Loved how he made you switch up so fast from being an bratty sassy troll to an drooling submissive person with how easily he man handles you
- Amazing at aftercare and make sure you feel special
reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!
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iznyangwoni · 4 months ago
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EASY TO LOVE | chapter eleven !
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“I would’ve much preferred to have your brother here instead.” God, he’s starting wonderfully. You and your father never had that good of a relationship, he has always liked your older brother more than you, only because he is a man. “But i feel like you’re going to be useful to catch some attention.”
Useful. Of course he’s talking about you as a tool. You know you’re pretty, you did grew as a beautiful woman and that’s probably the only thing he is proud of you for. “Is your dress different from the one i gave you?” You’re surprised he noticed, but its probably nothing good.
“I did alter it a bit.” These are the first words that come out of your mouth after minutes of silence in the car. Your dad takes a better look at your dress, he sighs right after, starting to walk towards the entrance of the huge mansion the gala is taking place at. “What a shame. Such talent wasted in woman. You know this can only be a hobby for you, right?”
“Yes.” You follow behind, your voice monotone, you’ve gotten used to these kind of comments in the twenty years of your life. You hate this, you hate being here, you hate being showed off, you hate having to smile at whoever he introduces you to and not being able to talk freely.
“Mr. Choi! Isnt it delightful to see you?” You turn around as you hear a woman call your father. She is definitely a beautiful, beautiful woman, and she kind of looks familiar, but you cant really tell why.
“Y/n, why dont you introduce yourself to the lovely Mrs Yang?” You smile at the woman in front of you. “Its a pleasure to meet you, i love the dress you’re wearing sweatheart.”
That honestly makes you want to cry. She’s complimenting your dress? The dress you spent a whole night on? “Thank you so much, i actually altered it myself and-“ You stop when your father puts a hand on your back to stop you. You fucked up. The woman looks at you with a smile on her face, then looks at your father.
“I didn’t even know you had a daughter. Where did you hide such a gem?” You bite your inner cheek, your father is not going to like this. A woman thinking good of you? This couldn’t go worse. You’ve heard of Mrs Yang here and there during dinner, and you know he despises her and only sees her company as competition.
Your father laughs at the woman’s words, and pats your back roughly, it may seem innocent from the eyes of someone else but you know all these pats are gonna leave a mark at the end of the night if you keep fucking up like this. “I usually bring my oldest son, he is the real gem of the family, he is now in New York to close a deal. Don’t you have a son too?”
“Oh yes! He’s finally back from the boarding school he went to in Europe. Where is he…” The woman looks around until she smiles, probably finding her son and calling him towards us. “Here he is, Jungwon is a really hardworking young man.” You freeze when you see Jungwon in front of you. Looking at them side by side.. they look identical, no wonder you found the woman familiar.
Jungwon smiles at you and then introduces himself to your father. You’re about to panic, Jungwon is the son of your father’s rival. This couldn’t go worse, you take a deep breath, your mind starts to get foggy, fuck fuck fuck fuck why did this had to happen to you? Jungwon is about to say something to you when suddenly Sunghoon appears, he puts an arm around the younger.
“Jungwon! My friend! Its been so long, should we catch up?” The woman smiles, probably thinking Jungwon has a good friend with him so Sunghoon doesnt think twice before taking him outside. You honestly feel like throwing up, this night couldn’t go worse. Your father pats your back one more time, in the same rough way as before. “Why dont you also catch up with your friends? Mrs Yang and I have some business to talk about.”
You nod and say a polite bye to the woman. You honestly dont know what to do, your head is spinning and your stomach has never hurt more. You look around for Wonyoung, but she is also busy talking with some other parents, you could go to Jay, but if your father saw you with a man it would probably make things even worse.
The best thing to do right now is just go to the bathroom and wait for all of this to end. So you walk outside, deciding that the farthest bathroom is the safest choice. Once out, you notice Sunghoon and Jungwon fighting, they’re still not throwing hands but its obvious they’re mad. You dont want to get too close, but you need to hear in case this turns out badly.
“I told you, you need to leave her alone. You’re just going to bring her more troubles, you don’t know Y/N. You dont know anything about how things work here.” “I dont care about how things work or how you built your fucking spoiled kids empire.” You sigh, thats enough, you dont need to hear more, you just need to be alone for a second.
You keep walking towards the bathroom, knowing damn well that they could see you, but its not like your care anymore. “Yn” you hear Jay call you, but you just shake your head, not wanting to talk with them. “Yn where are you going?” Jungwon takes you by your wrist, but you immediately get off of his grip, the fear of your father seeing this making you panic even more.
“Leave me alone!” You blurt out quite loudly, your legs are definitely shaking by now. “All of you, i need you to leave me alone, dont speak to me, dont get near me, and don’t touch me!” You take another deep breath, walking a few steps back. “Y/n…” “If you want to help just call Wonyoung.”
And that said you finally reach the bathroom, barely being able to breathe. You try to calm yourself down putting water on your wrists and neck. Maybe you really need to just get away from Jungwon. First it was Minji’s threat, now you just found your father despises his mother to death, this couldn’t get worse.
The second you start crying is when Wonyoung opens the door of the bathroom, the panic taking full control of your body as you sit on the floor. Your friend rushes to you. “I fucked up, Wony i fucked up so hard.” “Calm down, calm down yn its fine. Just tell me what happened, okay?” She sits in front of you, taking your hands in hers.
You take deep breaths, wanting this excruciating pain in your chest to finally end. You let the tears fall freely, not caring about your friend seeing you like this. “I think my father is mad at me and… and Jungwon, fuck. Everything surrounding him is so damn wrong i.. i don’t know what to do..”
“You dont have to do anything, Y/n. Right now lets just calm down, mh?” I nod, resting my head on the wall and closing my eyes. I’m glad Wonyoung is here, i’m sure she is the only one who can calm you down so easily. She sits next to you, letting you rest your head on her shoulder.
“And its not like you need Jungwon. I’m sure you’ll know what to do.”
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writingwithciara · 9 months ago
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He Never Will ~Jack Hughes~
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summary: jack loves his best friend and only wants to protect her from the worlds shittiest boyfriend
word count: 3.6k
pairing: jack hughes x reader, reader x shitty boyfriend
notes: based off the song by alexander stewart (my birthday twin 💕). i've recently become obsessed with this song & haven't put anything out for jack yet so i figured i'd write this for him [TW: toxic relationship with abuse]
masterlist
jack was in love with his best friend. it was cliche and he knew it but he didn’t care. the only thing he cared about was making sure she didn’t find out.
her boyfriend could tell though. he saw the way jack looked at y/n & he hated hearing him talk about her to other people as if he was the one dating her.
it was like a game to hunter though. well, more of a test really.
he had suspicions that y/n was into jack so every once in a while, he would pick a fight with her just to see if she ran crying to jack. and most of the time, she did.
when she didn’t run to her best friend, she would run to his brother or the captain of his hockey team. but to hunter, it didn't matter who she ran to. The point was that she ran to another guy and he didn't like it.
but she always went back to him, no matter how bad he treated her and jack hated that. he knew she deserved better and he wanted to be the one she chose. jack wanted her to stay on one of the many nights she ran to him.
but she never did.
if he don't know what he's got now, he never will
it was the night before jack was supposed to head up to toronto for the all-star game when y/n came back to his place.
the tears were pouring down her face as jack let her into his apartment without a word. he could never bring himself to say i told you so, especially not when she was in such a vulnerable state.
a few minutes of silence passed as they sat on the end of his bed before jack spoke up.
"so what happened tonight?"
"i don't even really know. i got home from work and he was in the middle of trashing my apartment. he said something about me not being faithful to him, which is total bullshit. and i know we have our fights and shit on a daily basis, and that's alright. but tonight felt different. like if i had stayed any longer, maybe he would've hit me or something."
jack looked at her face for any sign of a mark, fearing that she may have been hiding something from him. but there was nothing so he let it slide.
"i'm gonna take you home and i want you to pack a bag as quickly as you possibly can."
"why?" she wiped her eyes and looked at jack.
"you're coming with me to toronto."
"are you nuts? that's only going to make this worse, jack."
"i'm going to be gone for a week and there's no way in hell that i'm leaving you alone with him for that long with no guarantee of safety."
"i'll still have nico. and luke even."
"please just do this for me? i'm worried about leaving you with hunter. i swear the kid's just begging to get his ass beat."
"jack, if i promise to go with you to toronto, will you promise to try to get along with hunter when we get back?"
"y/n, i've already tried. he's a lost cause honestly."
"can we not have this conversation again? i'm tired of hearing it." y/n sighed with frustration and stood up. she began to pace around jack's room.
"until you see how much better you are than hunter, i'm gonna keep bringing it up. and the fact that you've heard it more than once should be enough to tell you something!" jack raised his voice but regretted it immediately when y/n started to cry. "please just listen to me okay? look, i care about you and i only want what's best for you. i'm not trying to make you feel bad or anything. i'm sorry if i upset you." jack pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back as she sobbed.
y/n cried for a good 10 minutes before she finally spoke again.
"i'm not upset with you, jack. i could never be. i'm upset with myself because i know i shouldn't be with someone like hunter but i love him so much and i can't just walk away from that." she looked up at jack and smiled when he wiped her tears away. "please don't hate me for staying with him."
"i could never ever hate you. i hope you know that." he rubbed her back soothingly. "and although i don't support you staying with him, i'm always here if you need me and i'm never ever leaving your side, okay?"
"okay." y/n nodded with a shy smile.
"so, will you please come to toronto with me?"
jack and y/n ended up meeting up with luke and nico before the boys took y/n back o her apartment to get her stuff. luckily for them, hunter was nowhere to be found.
y/n packed a bag quickly and left a little note for hunter. jack didn't agree with that idea, fearing hunter would come find her and do something terrible. but luke and nico assured him that y/n would be safe with them while at the game.
the 4 of them got in the car and were on the plane in no time. y/n took the window seat and jack sat next to her.
"what's going on in your mind?"
"part of me just...i don't know...i feel a little bad for hunter. maybe he's only like this because he didn't get a whole lot of positive attention growing up."
"don't feel bad for that piece of shit, y/n. he doesn't deserve you. and his lack of positive attention is no excuse for the way he treats you. i really hope you understand that someday." jack sighed and changed the topic.
for the rest of the flight, nico did most of the talking while luke did everything he could to keep a smile on y/n's face, even if it was only a small one. he accepted it either way.
when they got to the hotel they were staying at, the lady at the front desk gave them 2 keys. jack handed one to y/n and the group went up to their rooms. y/n wasn't a fan of being alone but at least the boys were just next door if she needed them.
the first night in toronto was not great. y/n woke up from a nightmare screaming and she couldn't bring herself to stop crying. jack heard her scream and was in her room in seconds. his heart broke when he saw the state she was in so he stayed with her for the next two nights.
on draft day, y/n was sitting with nico and luke as they watched the event unfold. she excused herself to use the bathroom and while she was gone, her phone buzzed in her seat.
it was a series of texts from hunter. nico and luke took it upon themselves to respond.
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the two boys shared a look before y/n returned. she noticed their weird behavior and raised an eyebrow.
"you weirdos doing alright?"
"yeah. never better." nico lied and turned his attention back to the draft.
"hunter texted you while you were in the bathroom and we answered him."
"luke!" nico shot his teammate a look before looking over at y/n beside him.
"what did you guys do that for?" y/n opened her phone and went through the messages. "i could've handled it, you guys."
"we're all tired of him treating you like you mean nothing to him. that's not how you deserve to be treated." luke sighed.
"we're sorry, y/n." nico sighed. "we just love you so much."
"i'm not sorry."
"luke!" nico shot him another glare and rolled his eyes.
"i'm sorry, okay? but it had to be said. y/n deserves better than what she has and if you guys want to tell me different, then go right ahead. but we all know the truth." luke sighed. y/n placed her hand on his shoulder and hugged him.
"i know you guys are looking out for me, and i love you for it. so much." y/n looked over at nico. "can you guys let jack know that i'm gonna head back to new jersey before hunter gets here? i need to go pack my stuff."
"are you leaving him?"
"yeah." she stood up and sighed. "i don't know where i'm gonna go though."
"crash at jack's. you know he won't mind."
"yeah because he's in love with her." luke chuckled, earning another glare and a wide-eyed expression from y/n.
"that's supposed to be a secret, luke."
"oh, my bad. i thought she knew."
"that's a conversation for another day. i got something to focus on right now. but i won't forget you told me." y/n kissed luke's head and gave nico a hug before heading back to the hotel to pack. she left a note for jack because she knew the boys would forget to tell him.
when everything was done, y/n found herself back on the plane to new jersey.
the flight wasn't long but it gave her some time to think about what luke told her. she was shocke but everything was hitting her all at once.
had jack always felt this way?
when the plane landed, y/n got in the first cab she could find and headed to her apartment. as the car approached the building, y/n was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread. she didn't want to end up running into hunter on the off chance he hadn't actually gone to toronto.
she slowly unlocked the front door and made her way inside. when there was no sign of hunter, y/n let out a sigh of relief before making her way to the bedroom.
she grabbed her suitcase and started throwing all her clothes into it. unfortunately, she only made it through half her clothes before she heard the door open and close. she tried to hide the fact that she was leaving but hunter entered the room before she could do anything.
"why would you feel the need to lie about where you were going?"
"you wouldn't have let me go support my best friends, hunter. i had no other choice. lying was my only option. plus i needed a damn break."
"what could you have possibly needed a break from?"
"from you. you're constantly keeping track of my whereabouts and you won't let me spend any time with my friends. the only time i get to see jack is whenever you start some pointless argument and drive me away for a night. it's getting to the point where i need to put my own mental health above everything."
"what the fuck are you trying to say?"
"i'm leaving, hunter. this is too much." y/n went to grab her bag but hunter gripped her wrist firmly.
"you're not going anywhere."
"let me go!"
"you're not going anywhere." he repeated, this time with emphasis on each word.
"i swear to god, if you don't let me go, i'll-"
"you'll what? call jack to come rescue you like always? well you can't. he's in toronto and i-"
at this point, y/n was tired of him and his comments about jack. she reached for the nearest object and swung it at his arm. hunter released his grip on her and before he could grab her again, she grabbed her suitcase and used it to keep some distance between them.
"i'll be back for my other stuff later."
"whatever, bitch."
y/n rolled her eyes and hurried out of the apartment. when she got in her car, she broke down and facetimed jack.
he picked up with a smile but it disappeared when he saw her tears.
"what happened? why did you go back to jersey?"
"i thought hunter was gonna be in toronto...and i figured i'd take that opportunity to come home and pack my stuff & leave the apartment. but he came home and...." y/n began to sob harder. "he hurt me, jack. hs grabbed my arm and it hurts so much. i don't know why i'm calling you when there's nothing you can do about it now."
"bullshit. i'm getting on the next flight home and i'm going to kick that douchebag's ass."
"jack, you're a captain of an all star team. you can't leave. quinn needs you there."
"but you need me there more." jack moved around the hotel room to pack his bag. "besides, quinn has elias and if he really needs another hughes, luke is here too. plus, i can't even compete in the all-star game so there's really no point in me being here."
"but this is important to you, jack."
"y/n, you are more important than any hockey game, all-star or not. you are my best friend and i'm going to be there for you when you need me to be." he looked at his laptop. "i'll be home in about 5 hours, okay?"
"okay." y/n sniffled and wiped her eyes. "is it alright if i-"
"of course you can stay with me. you don't even have to ask." jack smiled softly at the girl on his screen. "want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"please? i mean, if you don't mind." y/n propped her phone in the holder and began driving to jack's apartment.
"anything for you. you know that." jack kept y/n on the phone while he knocked on luke and nico's door. luke answered and smiled at his brother.
"hey. what's up?"
"i'm heading home. y/n needs me."
"just how in love with her are you?" luke smirked, not even realizing that y/n's face was on jack's screen and she could hear everything.
"dude, she's on the phone." jack's eyes darted down to his phone and back to luke's, whose eyes only widened when he realized.
"cat's out of the bag. oops." luke went to shut the door. "good luck, jack."
luke shut the door completely and jack looked back at his phone.
"for the record, luke is an idiot and i wouldn't listen to anything he says ever."
"never do." y/n smiled. jack returned the smile and couldn't help but stare at her as he headed down to the lobby to hail a cab.
"i won't be able to talk to you while i'm on the flight but i'll call you when i land, okay?"
"okay." y/n pulled into the parking lot of jack's building and got out. as she made her way into the apartment, part of her felt relieved. it felt like she was home.
"alright. the flight is boarding but i'll make sure to call you when i land. help yourself to anything in the apartment. there's some bath bombs and bubble bath at the back of my closet in case you want to take a nice, relaxing bath."
"thanks again, jack. for everything. i really appreciate you. have a safe flight."
"i will. love you."
"love you too." y/n smiled and hung up. she made her way into jack's room and pulled the bath stuff out from his closet. she ran the water for her bath and put on some calming music while also lighting a few candles. she put the cotton candy bath bomb in the water and when it was filled, she got in.
she hadn't even been paying attention to the time when jack got home. he stumbled in through the door with a busted lip and a shiny black eye.
"jesus christ. what the hell happened to you?"
"i'm sorry. i know you don't like it when i get violent off the ice, but i had to stop at hunter's before i came home. he hurt you so i hurt him. tit for tat i guess."
"how bad did you hurt him?"
"pretty bad. he's like 10 times worse than me right now."
"you didn't have to do that for me, jack." y/n looked at the cut on his lip. "now let's go clean up your lip and see if we can do something about that eye." y/n grabbed his hand and brought him to the bathroom. she sat him on the edge of the tub and grabbed a rag from the bin, running it under some warm water.
jack watched her every move intently, afraid that if he looked away, she would fade into a memory.
y/n wiped the dried blood from his face and started looking through her own bag for something to heal the black eye faster.
"you know, i don't hate it when you get violent off the ice, especially when it's to defend me. kinda think it's hot that you would put yourself in the way of violence if you're protecting me." she applied a cream to his left eye and placed a gentle kiss just below the bruise. when she pulled away from his face, she made eye contact with him. "i love you but can you please stop getting into fights?"
"thought you found it hot when i did." jack smirked.
"i do. but i also don't like seeing you get hurt." y/n ran her hands through his hair slowly while his hands held her waist. he tugged her closer and hugged her tightly.
"you're truly a blessing and i hate that hunter could never realize what he had."
"hopefully he realizes what he had now that he's lost it."
"you would never go back to him again, would you?" jack moved his had from his resting spot on her stomach and looked up at her.
"and leave you? no chance in hell will that ever happen." y/n knelt down to be at eye level with him.
there was something about the way he was looking at her that made her feel like they were alone in the world.
jack looked at her and he swore his heart began to beat faster. her gaze was focused on his lips and she tried to look away but she couldn't.
when jack's thumb reached up to draw delicate circles on her cheek, she knew she was screwed.
for years she was telling herself that she didn't have feelings for jack but here they were now, in the bathroom, sharing an intimate moment.
the feelings hit her hard and before she knew it, she was pulling jack in for a gentle kiss. when she tried to pull away, jack held her cheeks and poured everything into the kiss.
by the time the kiss ended, they were both out of breath and their faces were red. jack had a playful smirk on his face as he admired y/n's features.
"you are so incredibly beautiful, y/n. can't believe hunter would treat you so badly."
"how about we stop talking about that asshole & instead focus on this?" she gestured between them and smirked. "i love you and i'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."
"i'm sorry i never told you how i felt." jack continued to hold onto her face while y/n held his arms. "in case it's not obvious now, i do actually love you. but how could i not? i mean you are the most incredible human being & definitely the most precious person i've ever known. you are perfect in every way and i will spend the rest of my life showing you how you deserve to be loved. i-if that's alright with you."
"you are all i want and all i need jack. forever and always, since forever." she wrapped her pinky around his and smiled. a simple gesture that's been part of their lives since they were 9 but they loved it because it meant more to them than anyone could ever know.
taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691
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