#then you go ask some people to use the toilet & show them your hall pass

[uygfiug]

turns out my asshole principal who is currently in the process of leaving was even worse than i thought

[finelinevogue]

hii can you write something about yn having a little sister who’s pretty much obsessed with harry like she’s a big fan and when yn introduces them she’s so starstruck and at some point she tells harry something like “do you love my sissy? why don’t you love me?”

okay i just loved this so much sooooo…. here we go!!! ;

“Mia? Are you ready to go?”

You shouted to your sister from down the corridor of Harry’s New York apartment. Your little sister, of 6 years old, was here with you in New York City, along with your dad and your step-mom, to watch Harryween with you.

When she first heard about Harryween she thought it was just a concert on Halloween, which she was so excited for since she absolutely adores Harry’s music. However, she admitted there was something missing with it and hence why it was changed to a fancy dress party too. Your baby sister, Mia, is the reason your boyfriend is going to dress up as Dorothy tonight.

Mia came running down the hall a few moments later, coming to stand where you were pulling on your high heels. You had decided to go as Kim Possible and you had to admit you kind of looked amazing. Looking at Mia though she looked even better.

“Can you guess who I am?” She asked, even though it was the most obvious costume ever. Her white trousers, mini pink shirt and pink suspenders were all combined to create the classic Fine Line outfit. She looked so cute and you were so excited for Harry to see her.

“Of course! You’re Harry!” You spoke excitedly, trying your best to show that you were really happy for her. She looked so proud of her outfit.

“I want to make him love me.” Your broke a little at her words, because you only wished she could understand how much Harry did love her.

Mia was the reason why Harry was so adamant that you both get married as soon as possible, so you can have kids. He had always been an amazing human being around kids, but with Mia it was different. He was extra dad-like with her and it made your heart swoon. It was so clear to you that he would be the one you’d spend forever with and you only hoped he shared that same dream.

“Mimi,” You called her by her nickname that she only let her most favourite people use, “Harry loves you so much already. Don’t need to make him love you anymore than he does already.”

“Does he love me as much as I love him?” She asked.

“How about we go find out, hm?” You asked and gathered all your belongings, before making your way to Madison Square Gardens.

The venue was packed and it was slightly overwhelming.

Fans were queuing for miles and they looked amazing. You’d seen pirates, fairies, ghosts and queens. You’d seen another Kim Possible and laughed when Mia pointed out someone dressed the same as her too. You made sure she knew that she was the best dressed though. Your dad and step-mom had come as a couple from an old movie that you had never heard of before, but they looked really good too. Now, you were just excited to see Harry.

Backstage was crazy and you kept a tight hold on Mia’s hand as you walked through the halls. You’d been in these backstage passes so many times now, especially on this tour, that you could probably walk around blindfolded. When you met Harry’s dressing room you gave a quick knock at the door before Jeff opened it for you.

“Hi!” You said excitedly, laughing when you saw his Anna Wintour costume complete with Harry’s Vogue magazine too.

“You look great.” Jeff laughed as he gave you a hug.

“So do you. Where’s H?” You asked, removing yourself to look around the room. You silently said hello to some staff and smiled when you spotted Lambert over by the makeshift cocktail bar.

“Toilet. Should be back in a minute.” He pointed to the loos behind him and you thanked him. “He’s having difficulties with the tights.”

You laughed as you walked over to the sofa and sat Mia down on it. Your step-mom sat beside her as your dad started to talk to Jeff. Poor Jeff, you thought.

Just as you were on your way to make yourself a cocktail the bathroom door opened and out came Dorothy. Well, Harry. He was dressed so perfectly and every detail was thought out exactly right. The blush was so well done and you were jealous of how his eyelashes looked so much better than yours. His outfit was just amazing and you couldn’t believe that he’d gone the Full Monty for Harryween.

“Oh my God.” You stood stunned, clapping your hands over your mouth. You’d been to some of the fittings with Harry, but had never seen everything put together.

“I know.” Harry laughed, posing as if he were the most prettiest person in the room - which he probably was.

“You look amazing, babe!” You laughed, walking over to him and taking ahold of his hands that he held out of you. You held up your arm and ordered him to do a twirl, which he did. You gasped as his dress floated and you saw the shorts underneath. You couldn’t get over his brilliant he looked.

“Looking pretty hot yourself, love.” He pulled you close after he’d done his twirl, licking his lips once his eyes had checked you over once and then twice.

“I always do.” You flipped your ginger hair sassily and allowed yourself to indulge in a quick kiss from him. You didn’t want to spend too long worshipping his laps, considering your family was in the room. Speaking of. “Don’t look as amazing as Mia though.”

You pulled away from Harry and directed his attention over to your little sister. Harry gasped when he saw her.

“Is that me? Am I looking in the mirror? Harry?” He asked rhetorically, making Mia laugh and jump off the sofa when she noticed Harry holding out his arms for her to run into.

“Harry it’s me! Mia!” She giggled, jumping in his hold and laughing when she was twirled around. Harry kept her on his hip afterwards, you standing close by to watch the two cutely interact.

“Mia? No it can’t be. Y’look just like me.” Harry teased her, looking over the mini version of him again to carry on with his pretence act.

“No it’s me. Mia. Y/N’s sister.” She explained, pointing to you for Harry to acknowledge. When his eyes caught onto yours he gave you a cheeky wink that went unnoticed by Mia. You smiled at him and thought about how amazing he was with kids - again.

“Well good job on y’outfit kiddo. Almost didn’t recognise y’then.” Harry pretended, putting her back down on the floor.

“Do you love me Harry?” Mia asked him as he put her down, which made his eyebrows furrow. He was confused as to why a child that he spent so much of his love on was questioning whether any of it was real to him. He looked at you and you just gave him a simple nod of the head - one that told him you knew about this little issue already and it would be okay.

Harry crouched down in front of Mia and you walked to sit on the couch, making it look like you weren’t eavesdropping when in reality you weren’t doing anything but.

“Mia of course I love you, why would y’question that?” He asked, slightly upset that this conversation was even happening.

“Well.. it’s just, you spend a lot more time with my sister than me. Just thought you loved me less.” She explained, which broke your heart that she thought this at such a young age.

“Mia. I love your sister, so very much,” your heart smiled at his simple words, “but I love her in a different way than I love you. My love for both of you infinite. You dressed as me makes me love you even more—”

“Narcissist.” Mia butted in and Harry smiled in confusion over how a six year old knew such a big word.

“Mia that’s not nice.” You said sternly, telling her to apologise.

“But you use it all the time about Harry.” She whined, which made you blush when Harry raised his eyebrows at you jokingly.

“You and I are having a conversation later, Miss L/N.”

“Conversation, my ass.” Lambert said as he walked past you all, with his cocktail, and out of the door. You all laughed, even Mia who probably had no idea why you were all laughing.

Harry returned his attention back to Mia and convinced her that he loved her so very much and that she was the best dressed out of everyone in New York tonight. She was pretty happy with that title and spent the rest of the evening happy, which was enough for Harry and definitely enough for you.

[babybluebex]

next week [baron zemo x reader]

summary ↠ you're hired to give a message to a german prisoner, but you never expected to actually take a liking to him. pairing ↠ baron helmut zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 2.9k warnings ↠ explicit language, a bit of nonsexual choking, zemo calls you a bitch a/n ↠ after a week, here she is!! also, if there's demand for it... part 2? until then, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio!

The prison felt cold and unforgiving, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You followed the guard down the halls, twists and turns with no hope of remembering the correct way out.You figured that they had designed it that way on purpose; nobody could leave and escape if the way out was a labyrinth. Finally, you were led to a man sitting at a desk. His eyes followed you as you approached, and it was only once you were fully in front of him did he speak. “Name?” he asked in German, and you cleared your throat. Your German was shaky, but would have to do.

“Zemo,” you replied. “I’m here for visitation with my husband.”

The man laughed a bit. “Pretty girl visiting her man in prison,” he mumbled. “Such a waste. Take off your jacket, Frau Zemo.”

You had no reason to be nervous, but you still shook a bit when you slid your jacket off and held your arms out for the necessary pat-down. But, as you pondered it, you actually had quite a lot to be scared of. The past three days had been hell, for sure. It started with a firm knock on your apartment door in your home of New York City, and you had opened it to see a man with a metal arm and surprisingly kind eyes. He had introduced himself as simply James, and he had told you that he needed you to do something for him.

“I know you’re Sokovian,” James had explained. “I found your name on a registry of citizens that were moved to the US following the Sokovia incident a few years back. If you do this for me, I’ll help you get access to the city ruins. You were young when you lost your parents, yeah? I know the feeling. Not having closure is… Awful. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But, in order to do that, I need you to do something for me?”

You had looked James up and down. “What is the something?” you asked.

“I have a friend,” he began and gave a little wince. “Acquaintance. Umm, I know someone who’s in a German prison right now, and he’s going to be a big help to me and my business partner. All you need to do is go in and give him a message.”

“What sort of message?”

“‘Winter’s coming soon. Next week, I imagine.’ Has to be that, verbatim; don’t say anything about who sent you or why. I’ve already got the meeting and everything set up, you just need to go visit him and give him that message.”

“What does that mean?” you asked.

James had hesitated for a moment, tapping his metal fingers against the arm of his chair. “It’s better if you didn’t know,” he said. “I need as little people involved here as possible. I would go in and give him the message myself, but I’m kind-of a wanted man myself. Will you help us?”

James had been thorough in setting up the meeting, even going as far as purchasing a gently-used set of rings for you to wear. He told you that this man, Helmut Zemo, had been in prison for seven years for a variety of things, the heftiest being murder. “He was justified, though,” James said, and you pretended not to notice his small “I guess.”

The guard said something into his radio unit, and you caught enough of it to know that he was approving you to enter. You knew nothing about this Helmut Zemo other than what James had told you, only the bare basics. Sokovian, had a family that was killed at the same time as yours. According to James, Zemo wasn’t dangerous. He would be more confused than anything, he told you. But, no matter what Zemo did, if he denied he had in you no right, you had to keep with it and deliver the message in a natural way. You were his wife, and you were happy to see him.

The light flicked on over the bed, and Zemo gave a quiet grunt of disdain. It was four in the afternoon, and he always asked for the light to be off. Four was when other prisoners were granted visitation, but he had nobody. Stupid light must have accidentally been triggered.

“Zemo!” he heard a guard call from down the hall, and he pulled himself from bed and approached the plexiglass divider that separated him from freedom. “I thought you said you don’t have a wife!”

“I don’t!” Zemo called back, an irritated edge in his voice.

He finally saw the guard turn the corner and approach, and his eyes instantly fixed on the girl that was trailing behind him. She was young, much, much younger than him, and strikingly beautiful. Maybe it was the seven years in jail, but he could have sworn that he was looking at an angel. She seemed nervous, and Helmut focused his gaze on the rings on her left hand. Before he could speak up and correct the guard that this woman wasn’t his wife, she spoke up. “My God,” she whispered in a soft English, her voice heavy with a familiar Sokovian accent. “Helmut, you look… Tired, my love.”

Zemo tried to gauge the woman. She seemed too green to be an assassin, so at least that was something. And she knew his name. How did she know his name? “I am tired, mein lieber,” he sighed, and he pressed his palms up against the glass. She stepped closer and did the same, laying her hands just opposite his, and he examined her rings. Small, simple, unassuming. Props. “You’re so beautiful.”

You gave a small laugh, one that you hoped sounded like a woman whose husband had complimented her. Did he really mean it? Or had he caught onto the act as well? He seemed smart, you had to admit. And he was handsome too. Though his eyes were dull and dark with exhaustion, they were still a lovely brown. His hair was messy but showed hints of ginger in the dark locks, and his scruffy facial hair accented his soft jaw. However exhausted he was, he was still quite the looker. And he was the first full-blooded Sokovian that you had willingly met since the incident. “Can I hold him?” you asked the guard, lowering your voice and tightening your throat to try to feign emotion. “Please?”

The guard blinked slowly, and he nodded. He translated the request through his radio, and, just a moment later, there was the loud buzz as the cell door was unlocked, and it slowly creaked open. You wasted no time in meeting Zemo at the door and throwing your arms around him, and he held you with the strength of a thousand men as you dug your face into his neck. He shushed you gently, stroking your back, and he pressed his mouth to your temple in a fake kiss. “Why’re you here?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, praying the guard hadn’t noticed it. “Who are you?”

“I missed you,” you whimpered into his neck. “I’m sorry, Helmut, but I moved to the States, and I couldn’t exactly tell people who I was or who you were or why I was living in New York alone but married--”

Zemo moved his lips from your temple to your mouth, and he captured you in a slow and deliberate kiss. Whatever game you were playing, he would join. What’s a bit of fun? Anyway, seven years was a long time to not even touch a woman. If he wanted to kiss you, you would let him. According to the stories James had told you about his family, you figured that he deserved it.

You finally pulled out of the kiss and embraced the man once more, and you mumbled, “It’s so cold in here, Helmut. How do you manage?”

“I make do, mein lieber,” Zemo said. “At least you’re here to keep me warm now.”

“Not for very long,” you said softly. Then, you looked over your shoulder at the guard, and you asked, “Ten minutes, yes?”

The guard nodded silently, and you turned back to Zemo. “Well,” you started, breaking away from him and passing your hand over your cheek to wipe up (nonexistent) tears. “Show me your room.”

Zemo gave a small smile and took your hand, the one with the rings, and you pulled you into the cell. You weren’t lying; it was awfully cold. The room was devoid of much of anything, just the bed and a small sink and toilet in the corner. Books were stacked up beside the bed, all dog-eared and torn at the corners, and a small woven mat was in front of the bed.

“You’ve taken good care of them,” Zemo said suddenly, and you looked away from the stack of books to see him holding your hand up to see the rings. “I figured you wouldn’t even wear them after…”

“What makes you think that?” you asked gently. “I married you, I’d never pretend I didn’t.”

“I love you,” Zemo said quickly, nearly interrupting your sentence. “I missed you.”

You nodded silently, and Zemo tugged you into him once more. His arms were tight around your waist, his hand stroking up and down your back, and he laid a small kiss on your neck. Zemo kept his mouth at your pulse point for long enough to gauge just how fast your heart was beating, and he nodded to himself. A spy of some sort. But what did you want?

You looked at the glass wall of the cell, and you saw that the guard had stepped away, and suddenly every piece of James’ plan fell into place in your mind. Like James said, he couldn’t give Zemo the message himself, and it would be weird for someone like James’ partner to come visit Zemo in prison, especially after seven years of absolutely nobody, so someone else would have to do. You, a young Sokovian girl, Zemo’s wife, made sense. But after seven years, what wouldn’t make sense was if the married couple’s first meeting was just a conversation through a wall. No, the only way it made sense was if it was a conjugal visit.

Fuck.

Apparently, Zemo had caught onto this quicker than you had. His mouth on your neck pulled away in exchange for your lips, his hands captured your waist, and he tugged you fully into him so that your bodies were flushed together. Your anxiety made a quick squeak fall from your mouth, and you covered it with a giggle; you were sure that, even though the guard was gone, you were still being watched. “Seven years hasn’t dulled your charms, so it seems,” you said, and Zemo laughed.

“Of course not,” he chuckled. His hands slid up your body, carefully delving under your shirt, and he added, “I haven’t seen you in so long, it’s almost like I’m starting from the beginning.” He pulled out of the kiss, and you saw his eyes canvasing you, and he said, “My name’s Helmut. And yours, beautiful lady?”

“Goodness,” you huffed. “You’ve already married me, silly.”

“Indulge me, mein lieber,” Zemo said. Even though it was an act for the security cameras, he truly wanted to know your name. Maybe, with that, he could piece together why you were there. “Won’t you play my little game?”

You rolled your eyes, but played along. You told him your name, and he gave you a tight smile. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently, and you could see that he really meant it. Married or not, you could tell that Zemo-- Helmut-- was grateful for your presence. “Can I offer you a dance, mein lieber?”

You pressed your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest, and he squeezed you in a tight hug. Softly, he began to hum something in your ear, only for the two of you to hear, and he sighed as the two of you began to sway to his humming.

“Who are you?” he whispered, planting a kiss on the side of your face. “Who sent you?”

You swallowed thickly. You remembered that James had instructed you not to speak of him, and you mumbled, “I can’t imagine how it must feel to be here.”

“What are you talking about?” Zemo snarled, and he pushed his leg in-between yours as an “explanation” for the sudden change in temper. “I asked who you are.”

“Helmut, you have to trust me,” you whispered quickly.

“Trust?” he huffed. “You come in here, lying about yourself, and ask me to trust you? You, the bitch who claims to be my wife? That’s a big ask, sweetheart.”

“I--” you began. You really didn’t want to anger James by breaking from the meticulous plan he had made up, but you were more afraid of the man between your legs at the moment. He was a more urgent threat. You took fistfuls of Zemo’s off-ginger hair and pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his, and you whispered, “A man came to my apartment two days ago. He said he needed my help, and he told me to come here and deliver a message.”

To the outside onlooker, when Zemo put his hand on your throat, it might have looked innocent. Not truly innocent, but certainly harmless. But it scared you shitless. His fingers were strong, and his thumb dug straight into your windpipe. It hurt, and your throat immediately began to burn with the urge for breath. “I’ll ask again,” he said easily. His eyes were a new sort of dark, not by exhaustion or confusion or arousal, but by rage. “Who sent you here?”

“I don’t know who he is,” you said quickly. “I only know his first name.”

“Which is?”

“James,” you choked out. “Light eyes, dark hair, prosthetic arm.”

Zemo’s grip loosened for only a moment, but then his thumb went back to its place. “He sent you to give me a message, didn’t he?” he asked. “About the winter. What did he say?”

You felt lightheaded, but you tried to stand your ground. “It comes in a week,” you said quickly. “Please let go of me.”

“Why you?” Zemo asked. “Of everyone in the world, why you?”

“My mother was killed in Sokovia,” you said, and fought back the urge to gag. “I only found out because I heard her name on the radio. Her apartment is still there, and James promised me that he could bypass the military blockade and get me there to say goodbye.”

Zemo’s hand fell slack around your throat, then off altogether. He took a small step back, and his eyes fell to the floor as his brain whirred to life. “He lied to you,” Zemo said carefully. “There’s nothing left. Not when I last went, and certainly not now.”

Your heart sank, and you pressed your hand to your neck, right where he had been. “You’re lying,” you said. “Th-There has to be something there.”

“That military blockade is there to keep people from settling on the land,” Zemo said. “Most of it was taken by surrounding countries, but the worst of it was… Is, just barren land. There’s nothing left for you to mourn.”

“How do you know?” you sniffled. “You’ve been in prison for nearly a decade.”

“Because I was there,” Zemo said. “My wife, son, and father were killed there. You wasted your time coming here; James can’t do anything for you.”

You hesitated for a second, then said, “But you can, right?”

Zemo froze. It was momentary, and you wouldn’t have noticed it if you yourself hadn’t said the words that triggered it, but he let out a heavy breath and resumed with the close-quarters dancing, his grip suddenly gentle again. “What makes you think that, mein lieber?”

“I’m not stupid,” you chuckled lightly. “I was young when I lived in Sokovia, but I recognized you when I saw you. Baron Helmut Zemo, locked up in a German prison; how aristocratic is that?”

“I have no power anymore,” Zemo mumbled. Sometimes, he nearly forgot his lineage, especially since the country he served didn’t exist anymore past his memories. “I cannot do anything.”

“Right,” you whispered slowly. “I figured as much... Who is James?”

“A man that I used to know,” Zemo said. “A man that I’ve never been friendly with, which is why I’m surprised that he would seek me out. He didn’t say why he was coming, did he?”

You shook your head, and Zemo laughed humourlessly. “Of course he didn’t,” he mused. “Shouldn’t have expected that… Next week? Guess I have to keep you here, make sure I stay plenty warm, huh?”

“I wish,” you chuckled. “You are rather cute, Helmut.”

Helmut Zemo laughed, the tops of his cheeks going pink. “And you tease me about my charms,” he said, his voice finally above a whisper; suddenly, the act of estranged husband and wife was back. You could easily pass off the bought of anger and crying as Helmut being too passionate, as Sokovians tended to be. “If you don’t watch yourself, Y/N, I might have to marry you all over again.”

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 15 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 15

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, Salvatore Moreau

Rating: PG-13 for language

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect you inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 15

You awoke with the urgent need to pee.  The room was pitch black, the fire in the hearth burning out hours ago.  You couldn’t see anything.  You were incredibly sleepy and could have very easily fallen back asleep, but the need to use the facilities outweighed your slumber.

Heisenberg spooned you, his arms wrapped tight around your body, holding you close. You smiled at the feel of his breath on the top of your head.  He was sleeping soundly and you knew he needed his sleep.  The feel of his naked body against yours was so comforting and you didn’t want to bother him, but you really had to go.

Trying hard not to wake him, you slowly started to pry his arms from around your body.  Heisenberg moaned and pulled you closer to him.  “Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured sleepily, nuzzling his nose in your hair.

“I have to pee,” you said.  His soft moan of disapproval made your heart clench.  He begrudgingly let you go and you sat up, moving your feet to the floor.  “Come back soon,” he whispered, rolling onto his back.  He slung one arm across his eyes as the other lay on his stomach.

You stood to your feet and blindly walked naked towards the door.  You knew there wasn’t any furniture between the bed and the door, but you wanted to make sure you didn’t run into anything.  The door was closed and you could hear the faint noises of the factory on the other side.  You held your hands out in front of you and made your way towards the noise.

You sucked in a pained gasp when your toe hit the edge of the kitchen area.  “Ow, fuck!!” you cried out, “fuck fuck fuck fuck!!”  You hopped on your uninjured foot as you grabbed your stubbed toe, whining and cursing.

“What was that?  What happened?” Heisenberg asked from the bed.

“I stubbed my fucking toe!” you whimpered, squeezing your toes in one hand with your other hand pressed to the counter top.  He was quiet for a moment before laughing.  “Shut up,” you grumbled at him.  You felt along the wall and found the door knob, opening it wide.

The lights from the hallway were a welcomed sight as you went into the bathroom.  You closed the door, locked it, and relieved yourself.  Flushing the toilet, you walked to the sink and washed your hands, looking at your reflection in the mirror.  Your hair was a mess.  You looked down at your hips and thighs and noticed a peppering of bruises and bite marks.  Your muscles were starting to feel sore and achy.  It made you smile.

In between naps and cuddles, you and Heisenberg had done nothing but stay in bed and fucked for the last several hours.  He was insatiable.  His hands and mouth had touched and explored every inch of your body.  You two had made each other cum over and over again.  Finally, after reaching a point of exhaustion, he pulled you to him and the both of you passed out.

You turned off the bathroom light and went back to the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.  With the little amount of light spilling in, you were able to find your way back to the bed.

You slid under the covers and into Heisenberg’s waiting arms.  “How’s your toe?” he asked, pulling you close and kissing your forehead.  You rested your head on his chest, placing your hand on his stomach.  “It’s fine,” you murmured.

“Sorry I laughed,” he said with a slight chuckle in his voice.  You growled softly and cuddled deeper into his arms.

*

When the two of you awoke in the morning, Heisenberg made breakfast...eggs and bacon again.  You poured yourself a mug of coffee from the small pot Heisenberg had on the back of the stove.  It wasn’t as good as the coffee you were used to from back home, but you cut him some slack...after all, you doubted the Duke had various flavors of coffee available to buy from his carriage.

Heisenberg found another chair in a room down the hall and pulled it into his quarters so that you and he could sit next to each other while eating.  After years of him living alone, he only needed one chair in his room.  But you were with him now and he wanted to make accommodations for you.

Heisenberg brought two plates to the table, setting one in front of you and the other for him.

“I thought you didn’t eat breakfast,” you asked as you picked up your fork.

“Usually I don’t,” he responded, “but as of late, I’ve worked up quite an appetite…”

You snorted and clamped your hand over your mouth to keep food from flying everywhere.  Heisenberg laughed as he chomped on a strip of bacon.

The two of you ate in silence, Heisenberg stealing glances at you from time to time.  He watched as you pulled one leg up to the chair and let the other hang over it.  He studied your eating habits as you went from a forkful of eggs to a strip of bacon and ending with a mouthful of coffee.  It had been a long time since he had someone share his living quarters…

He quickly shook those thoughts away.  It had been years since he last thought of them and he didn’t want to be reminded.

“So,” you said, pulling Heisenberg out of his thoughts, “I wanted to do something today…”

“Really?” he questioned, arching his brow, “and what might that be?”

You rolled your eyes.  “Knock it off, pervert,” you muttered, “I want to see Salvatore.”

“No fucking way,” Heisenberg said bluntly, lifting his mug of coffee to his mouth.

“I want to give him something,” you said, turning your body to face him, “the bracelet I got from the Duke...I want to give it to Salvatore.  To show him that everything is okay and that I’m not mad at him…”

Heisenberg shook his head, placing the mug down.  “Everything is not okay.  You could have died, Y/N.  If I wasn’t in the area and hadn’t heard your screams…”

“This isn’t up to you,” you said defiantly, “I want to go see him and I’ll go with or without you.”

Heisenberg laughed loudly, tossing his head back.  “Are you getting tough with me, pussycat?  You think I would let you go there alone after all I’ve told you about this place?  You know, I could go back to chaining you to my bed and locking the door…”

You met his amused eyes with a serious look.  “Please, Karl,” you implored, “we don’t have to stay long.  Come with me, let me give him the bracelet, and then we can leave…”  You put your hand on his arm, squeezing it slowly.  “I’ll make it up to you…”

He looked from your hand on his arm and up to your mischievous eyes.  “Anything, dollface?”

Your heart skipped a beat momentarily at his words.  Oh fuck, you thought, what depraved possibilities could be spinning in his head right now?  What have I gotten myself into?  But you swallowed your tongue and simply nodded.

“Fine,” he said, “we’ll go in an hour…”

*

The ramshackled building that Moreau lived in hovered yards ahead as you and Heisenberg walked closer.  The sun peeked out occasionally through thick clouds.  There was a brisk chill in the air as you shoved your hands in the pockets of the oversized coat you found in the plane wreckage.  You had spot cleaned it in Heisenberg’s tub the day before, scrubbing the slobber and blood that the lycans had gotten on it your first day in the village.

Heisenberg huffed under his breath as you reached the wooden door, slinging his large hammer around and propping it up against the wall.  “Smells like rotten fish,” he mumbled, “which means my brother is home…”

You shot him a glare.  “Do you think you could not be so rude to him?  He is your brother.”

“Not by blood,” Heisenberg shot back.  You shook your head as you pushed the door open.

“Salvatore?” you called out, “it’s Y/N and Heisenberg!  Are you here?!”

It was quiet for a moment.  You could hear the soft sloshing of the water in the reservoir.  A clock ticked by somewhere.  Birds flapped their wings and flew up towards the ceiling and in and out of small openings in the roof.

“Salvatore?” you called out again.

“MOREAU!” Heisenberg yelled loudly, making you jump out of your skin, “where the fuck are you???”

“Jesus,” you breathed, your hand at your chest, “you scared me to death!”  He simply shrugged as you heard shuffling from down a hallway.

“K-Karl?” Moreau called out, “...what are yo-you doing here?”  He turned the corner and saw the two of you standing there.  “Oh!  Y/N!  Oh ho, how are you??  I thought you were m-m-mad at me…”

You smiled and came forward, reaching both of your hands to him.  “No, Salvatore, I’m not mad!  It was just a crazy ordeal that got out of hand and I wanted to let you know...”

Moreau looked down at your outstretched hands and hesitantly lifted his.  He was very slow at placing his hands in yours for fear that you didn’t want him to touch you.  He was used to people over the years being afraid of him, calling him a freak, and picking on him.  It still felt recent, but it had been close to thirty years ago, when local children would see him walking through the village and pelt him with pebbles and rocks.  They would call him names, plug up their noses, and jeer at how much he stunk.  Unless he was beckoned by Mother Miranda, he stayed in the reservoir from then on out.  He would get his revenge a time or two when some of the bullies would jump in the water for a swim.  He would quietly slip under the surface of the water, turn into his huge, monstrous self, and rip them to shreds.  It was one of the few times he recalled ever being truly happy and justified.

You smiled at him and gave his hands a soft squeeze.  They were slimy and felt unusual, but you didn’t say anything; you would wash your hands later.  “I got something for you...just to let you know there aren’t any hard feelings…”  You released his hands and went for your jeans pocket, pulling out the carnelian bracelet.  “I got it from the Duke.  It’s a carnelian crystal.  It represents joy, friendship, and togetherness.  It made me think of you.”

Moreau looked down at the bracelet you extended towards him.  His eyes took in the red crystal.  His mouth opened and his jaw trembled.  “This...is fo-for me?  A present for me?” he asked.  You smiled and nodded.  A low sound that could only be described as the beginnings of weeping formed in his mouth.  You let it hang from your fingertips as Moreau closed his hand around it.  “Thank you,” he said happily, “oh, thank you, Y/N!  This is the best gi-gift I have ever gotten!”  He looked joyful and happy before his body began to jerk.  With a sudden loud gag, he turned away quickly and vomited green fluids on the floor.

“Ugh!” Heisenberg muttered under his breath.  You turned and shot him a warning glare.

“It’s okay, Salvatore,” you assured, turning back to him.

Moreau wiped his mouth with his other hand, looking at you.  “Sorry,” he apologized, “it happens sometimes…”

Heisenberg clapped his hands together once as if everything had corrected itself and they were all good to go.  “Well, brother,” he announced, “it’s always nice to see you.  Don’t be a stranger, don’t forget to write, you know...all that jazz…”

“Thank you, Heisenberg, for coming to visit,” Moreau said, “and thank you for bringing me the fish and cheeses last week.  They we-were very good…”

You slowly looked up at Heisenberg with an amused look, as if to say “oh, what a nice thing for you to do for your brother…”  He looked at you for a split second before turning away and mumbling “you’re welcome.”  You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips.  Heisenberg could try all he might, but there was goodness inside of him...he didn’t show it a lot, but it was there.

With a short grunt, he looked down at the floor to his left and found a scrap of metal that looked to have fallen from the ceiling.  He reached down and picked it up quickly, showing it to his brother.  “Yeah, well...I’m taking this!” Heisenberg announced, turning around and stomping out of the reservoir building.

You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing.  Turning back to Moreau, you bid him goodbye and promised that you would come see him again soon.

You jogged out of the building as Heisenberg grabbed his hammer and slung it over his shoulder, the metal scrap dragging behind him in the snow.

“How old are you again?” you quipped, walking with him up the path back towards the factory.

“Shut up…” he grumbled.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - Dark Grey

A/n: So this was request but I couldn't find who requested it (and it wasn't anonymous!) So whoever did just give me a hey! This is literally the longest fic I have ever written.

Warnings: Blood, gore, death, sad Kaz, language, torture, Parem I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Your a double agent for the dregs

"Come on you little shits, we have a job to do." One of the higher ups of the Dime Lions yells at some men at some tables at the Emerald Palace in the back.

Little birds have told me that people have been raving about this place being extravagant, but it's really just extra dramatic if you ask me. The green of the building is like someone drunk from the Crow Club wandered over here and puked on it and someone just decided the color looked pretty, so they mixed some glitter and red and pow. There you have it.

That may just be me though.

I start to get up with all the others but the man who just yelled, jets hand in front of me, fast like I'm going to run off.

"The boss wants to talk with you about getting you higher status." The man growls obviously not happy about someone who could be possibly taking his spot and he's probably not happy it could be a girl. Well sucks too suck.

I almost nod and have an emotionless face on but I realize that's the real me would do that, have have to be Cozbi and she's a little naive. But she's good enough if Pekka wants to notice her.

I let a smile crawl on my face; "Well I guess your just going to have to tell Mr. Rollins I would be delighted." I say nearly flirting with an accent, but more taunting like as I twirl my tailored unnatural bright red hair (like it's VERY bright) around my finger and I grin like a popular school girl.

"I'm not your messenger." The man scowls.

"But boss wants you up there in five minutes." He snaps and goes off face all red.

I barely even manage keep into place long enough as the men walk out to start their job. As soon as they do I speed off to a bathroom and I write on a piece of paper in a stall.

Giving me higher status, think he's getting suspicions though. Their going on a job tomorrow night to take out the Blacktips. Amush. Pekka also got a stash of Parem. Don't know why. Stay Safe, don't give clues. Frame someone.

-Your favorite person from the barrel

I open the window above my stall and I do a low whistle.

Fweet. Fweet.

A crow comes and lands on the window sill I grin slightly and my (also tailored) e/c eyes touch down on the raven haired bird. I'm reminded of Kaz's raven hair and his dark brown eyes as I hand him the folded note and the bird tilts it's head and takes the note and fly's off.

I flush the toilet and hurry out heading to Pekka's office.

I open the door slowly priding myself for being exactly a minute late, it works really well for who I'm playing. I see Pekka siting in his chair but instead of waiting for me like I thought he would be. Right now though he's reading something with a almost confused look on his face.

Shit.

"Well, well, well Cozbi your finally here." Pekka smiles not a nice smile - though he is a barrel boss.

The door shuts behind me and someone shoves me to the ground and people surround me and hold me in place.

"Or should I say Y/n." And then everything goes black.

_______________Time skip a few hours in a random warehouse (not that you know that)😈😈😈___________________________________

I slowly open my eyes and I look around the place. I'm tied to chair there's no light in the room so it's hard to make out anything but I think the floor is concert but the walls are wood.

Cheap.

"I didn't think you would be up so soon Y/n... Well this is a surprise." Rollins says and then in flash stabs a dagger into my stomach.

My scream fills the air as he pulls the knife out. I make my voice quiver I can still be Cozbi, I can still be Cozbi.

"I-I don't know who Y/n-Y/n is sir-sir." I stutter but my entire body is on fire from being in enough interrogations before. It's telling me to be harsh to not get to the point, but I might be able to get out of here if I play the part.

He takes my jaw and shoves it forward harshly. "We already know who you are L/n. Y/n L/n the dregs notorious double agent that never gets killed or even better caught."

Pekka smiles sadistically.

"I'm going to make sure this story ends in red." He laughs.

He goes to leave but he puts his hand up.

"And make sure she's can't see." His henchmen put a blindfold on me as I hear the door close. I can feel them coming closer and I hear one smack something on the ground that must have been a bat.

"Let's have some fun girly." I tug at my bonds hopelessly and helplessness fills my body.

________TIME SKIP_________________________________________

My screams ring this room for the next week.

Or what I at least think is a week. There's no windows in here so it's hard to tell when time pass's. Pekka doesn't come back again but I know his coming soon because his henchmen have been worse than usual because they want a raise or something.

I gave up thinking Kaz would come. I remember what he told me last time I saw him before I went on this mission.

We won't come for you if you get caught and it's only a matter of time before you do.

I messed up the last mission we were on with the crows, I got Inej hurt and he wasn't happy. So I did this job.

Because maybe then I would get what I deserved.

My hands have knives through them sticking them to the chairs, there's blood all over my face from the daily beatings. My one leg is twisted and broken in ugly places and cuts and bruises litter my body.

I know it's only a matter of time before my body gives out and Pekka finally wins.

The door to my (what feels like) cell opens and there's Pekka and six more henchmen in the room.

Those are new.

They might not be henchmen though I think we're past that at this point, I think their assassins.

Or something like that anyways.

Their hoods are up but I can clearly see that there's two girls and four guys. My vision blurs a little. Maybe death will grant me mercy sooner than I thought.

"Meet my new friends Cozbi." Pekka mocks and jesters towards the cloaked figures.

"Ironic that you choose the name Cozbi. For did you know, it means liar? I thought maybe I should call you that now, liar. It fits perfectly you know?" Pekka spits in my face.

"Anyways..." Pekka drawls on for a bit and I realize the lack of movement in the halls. But before I can question that one of the male hooded figures gives a box to Rollins and he opens the box. Rollins grins like someone just made his day.

Fuck.

He advances on me with a small packet and I stay deadly still.

"Do you know what this is Cozbi." I keep my eyes trained on the packet.

"My name is Y/n."

Pekka laughs and grins evilly.

"You wanted to be Cozbi so you will be called as such." He growls and calls for is henchmen.

Two men come to tip my head back and hold my jaw in place. I try to shake them off by moving my head but it's no use.

"It's Parem." I freeze. No, no, no.

"For grisha you suffer by always wanting it not inculding the rare cases. But for normal humans."

He takes a step forward and he opens the packet and holds it over my mouth.

"It kills you terribly and so, so, so painfully." He crouches down and looks at me.

"Your going to die as Cozbi. Your going to die a liar, and I will make sure all of Ketterdam remembers that."

He gestures towards his henchmen and instead of trying to prier open my mouth like I expect them too.

They go and pull up my hands.

My hands go through the hilts of the blade and it hurts so much I can't do anything but scream.

Pekka shoves the Parem in my mouth.

My body feels like it's withering away and Pekka laughs as I vibrate against my seat. I feel my eyes widen and the only thing going through my head is that Rollins is a foul.

The knives.

And I'm not going out without a fight.

I pull the knives out of the handles of the seat and I scream as the hilt of the blades touch my skin but I quickly cut the bonds around me and I stab one of my knifes into the first henchmen.

I leap towards the other and I barley manage the scrap him before my body hits the floor and I can't move anymore.

Searing pain stabs through my body like multiple knives just stabbing me over and over again I expect Pekka to be the last face I see and I murmur something about the saints but then I see it.

The hooded figures.

It's the Crows.

The henchmen are down on the floor and Pekka is tied up and gagged to the chair. I feel my vision start to blur and the Crows go to check the area.

"We have to get her a healer!" Someone yells. But I'm on my back looking up and I barley even recognize that things are happening around me. It's like I'm watching from a different world but I can't do anything.

"Y/n!" Someone yells and picks me up from my spot on the ground.

"Come on Y/n!" Someone whisper-yells.

I groan as the person starts walking and I let out a rattling breath, that I knew that should concern me but I couldn't care less.

I just wanted it to end.

"Your not dying on me today Y/n."

Kaz, I think it's Kaz.

Everything shifts back into focus, Kaz is running (even with his bad leg) and somehow the searing pain from the parem in my body has started to subside. Noticing the many, many yards of guards running after the crows and some group of them has so, so, so many guns pointed right at Kaz.

Then it happens.

Suddenly I feel above the others, like I have powers that no one has ever had. The universe was bending to my will and I gasp as I'm lifted up into the air by something shadowy, and dark blackness surrounds my legs all the way up to my waist. I don't quiet know what I'm doing but it feels natural, like I knew how too do it all along.

I raise my hands into the air and shadows burst out into the open.

Guards are being cut in half, some are being chocked to death, some look like their getting stabbed multiple times as wounds just show up. Others look like they have a disease as darkness spreads across their bodies. And some just fall to the floor and die silently.

Their dead.

The power, and the need to protect everyone I care about is gone.

I don't even scream.

I hit the ground with a thud and I try to open my mouth as Kaz frantically pulls me into his arms cradling me. No, that couldn't be right though.

He yells for someone but I can't make it out I try to blink, but even that is hard and it's so slow and I can feel Kaz bring me closer too him but I don't really know what's reality anymore.

"Y/n." The voice (although it tries not to show it) lets concern and fear run through the words. I gasp.

"Kaz." I manage to say. He pulls me (somehow) closer as he lifts my face up to look into his.

He says something, but I can't comprehend anything he's saying. The edges of my vision start going black and everything else is going fuzzy.

"You'll live!" Kaz says, trying to reassure me but it sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more.

I place a hand on his and I want to say something, but the words are all mixed up and it feels like concrete is holding my jaw shut. Everything starts slowly turning black and I'm internally screaming in my head;

No! I have to say something! I can't go like this!

It's useless though, because everything slowly fades away the last thing I see is the dark brown of Kaz's concerned eyes.

_______TIME SKIP_____________________________________________

The light bulb of whatever room I'm in flickers off and on as darkens seems to try and cover it. I take a look around to see all the Crows tied up to a chair each, they have gags in their mouths and they look like they have been tortured out of their minds.

I run over to Wylan trying to help him out, but he let's out a muffled scream as I go towards him. I quickly turn to Jesper but he's so still in his seat not even looking at me.

Nina and her confident demeanor is gone, her aura is laced with panic and Matthias is with her on that one.

Inej can't seem to stop shaking, making her presence known to everyone. Then I turn to the last chair and my heart must have stopped.

Kaz's corpse lays, in the chair. Bubbles of darkens, are around his mouth and it looks like it chocked him to death.

Dirtyhands was finally beaten.

Then darkness shoots out of me, and I can't seem to stop it as it kills everyone else.

I sit up and a scream rips through my throat. I breath in heavily trying to get the air into my lungs. Everything in me burns, pain course's through me like a parasite on steroids, but at least time I succeed at muffling my scream.

I hear someone running from another room and the door fly's open. On command darkens shoots out from my hand and starts chocking the person- Holy shit! That's Kaz!

"No!" And it all appears to fade away into the shadows.

Tears start to fill my eyes, what will happen when I'm in a real state of panic? Could my nightmare eventually come true?

I feel the bed dip beside me and despite my hardest efforts, my eyes wander over to Kaz.

He looks like he hasn't slept a day in his life, with the essentially black moons under his eyes. His skin looks chalky white, contrasting his red rimmed eyes that looks like he had been crying just a few minutes ago.

Concern fills my shadowed heart, something must have happened for the Kaz fucking Brekker to be like this. My fears about being a shadow summoner disappear, they do stay at the back of my mind but finding out what's up with the bastard of the barrel is more important.

I carefully place a hand on his cheek. He tense's up a bit before relaxing into the palm of my hand and even leaning into it a bit.

"What happened?"

Kaz looks at me in disbelief. "What happened?" He lets out a chocked laugh that holds a sob in the background.

"You died." My breath hitches in my throat, wait... That can't be right. Can it?

"Matthias had to do chest compression's on you while Nina tried to restart your heart. All because I couldn't fucking do it."

He takes in a breath and rips my hand away from his face.

"Your heart stopped Y/n, we thought you were dead. But they kept going and somehow saved you!" A sob tears through his throat and Kaz Brekker breaks down in front of me. His walls that he has tried so hard to keep strong have had a boulder thrown at it. Smashing it with so much force that he couldn't possibly rebuild it.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. "For all the pain I caused you." I somehow manage to speak as my own tears start to come up.

"Seriously? Your sorry?" Kaz turns to me and grips my shoulders.

"Your the one who died, damn it!"

"Hey I have something to hold over Jesper?" I try to joke and it gets a small, very tiny tried smile out of Kaz.

"And the fact that your a shadow summoner."

"I didn't know." I say quickly and I pull back defensively, Kaz just sighs.

"I know."

He lets his hands run down my arms and his hands make delicate patterns on my skin. Then I remember the parem. Fuck.

"What were the effects of the parem?" If anyone would know, it would be Kaz.

He pause's for a second seemingly in thought before opening his mouth the speak.

"Well your life span was shortened to a normal one." I exhale in relief at that news, I really didn't want to live for centuries.

"But your powers could surpass the Darkling's, and the only reason you don't have the opposite of what you have now is because you pushed it down for so long. The healers somehow purged the parem out of your body before it could make you a mindless addict."

"That better news then I thought I would get." Kaz nods but there's something else lingering in the back of his head.

He thinks I'm going to leave.

I intertwine our hands together, and I turn my head to look him right in the eyes.

"I'm not leaving." I blurt out.

"If I went to the little palace I would get hunted, if I went anywhere else I would get hunted. I might go into hiding for a bit, but I'm not leaving you."

A smile that's even bigger than the last one by some means crawls up on his face.

"Good, because I just got you back."

Words 3021

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua

(If you want to be added just comment taglist)

[unprofessional-bard]

Don't Push It, Pt. 2

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

First Part (2/2)

Based on this request.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (the reader is 26 and Joel is 53), angst, sexual tension, then smut: oral sex (m&f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, biting, choking, dom/sub vibes bc the reader is A Brat, rough & unprotected vaginal sex.

Summary: It's been going on for years. They both know better than to act on their feelings, but patience starts running thin when a few boundaries are crossed.

Word Count: 7.275 hehehe

Author's Note: This turned out to be a pure self indulgent smut but oh well. I have no shame and no excuses for this.

Like before, this fic changes POV's a lot:

• ----R and below: The reader's POV.

• ----J and below: Joel's POV.

• ----B and below: Both POV's.

The fic starts off with the reader's POV.

Enjoy!

"Jesse..." You called for him, voice breaking and tears around the corners of your eyes. He was chatting with two other people, but immediately diverted his attention to you once he saw your expression.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He turned to you. You were pouting and chewing on your lower lip, refusing to speak, so he held your shoulders as he looked into your eyes: "What happened?"

You blinked away the urge to cry, trying to find comfort in the fact that he hadn't witnessed your interaction with Joel. When you shut you eyes, though, Jesse's right hand went to cup your cheek: "Come on- Hey, it's okay-"

"I'm gonna go home," You finally whined.

"Okay, let's go then," Jesse instinctively looked over to the door, but you softly grabbed his wrist.

"No, you stay..." You looked away, nausea forming at the pit of your stomach: "I wanna be alone."

"You sure?" You unintentionally leaned forward, lightly tripping on your own feet.

"Yeah, thanks," You finally let the tears go and a pair rolled down your cheeks. You don't remember being this embarrassed, ever; normally you wouldn't cry, but the alcohol fucked with you too.

"Aw, (Y/N)..." He quickly pulled you into a hug, pressing your head into his chest. "You're so not getting away with this. We'll talk about it tomorrow okay?" You just nodded and forced yourself to stop crying or, rather, stop yourself from making a noise. After he pulled away, you let Jesse wipe away the tears glistening your cheeks: "Would a kiss make you feel better-? On the cheek, of course."

You chuckled at his panic and nodded with watery eyes, then he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your wet cheek - a kiss you wished you'd gotten from Joel, it was a comforting gesture which made you want to cry more. Instead, before you let anyone notice what was going on, you walked out with rushed steps. The sudden contact with the warm summer air made you realise how suffocating it had gotten in there, the calm and quiet of the town easing your stress on minimal levels.

You furiously wiped away your tears as you stormed to your house, trying not to trip on your feet as you did.

How could I be so stupid? You thought and sniffed. Of course he was gonna reject me.

The feeling of nausea and embarrassment started to take over your thoughts, so you found yourself leaning against a streetlight, groaning: "Fuck..."

"Shouldn't walk back alone," A deep voice spoke from behind you. "Especially when you're drunk, as you are."

You turned around, fixing your posture as best as you could before realising it was Joel. Your worried expression turned into a tired and angry one when you saw him: "What're you doing here?"

"Lookin' out for you," He replied, stopping before you, keeping a healthy distance so he wouldn't invade your personal space. "Your boyfriend clearly ain't."

"The hell are you talking about?" You groaned in a hostile manner. "I don't need you to look after me..." You gulped and turned around, walking towards your house, which was around the corner: "I don't need you."

"Like hell you don't, y'can barely stand up," Joel growled.

His words angered you because how dare he mock me? Humiliation and ridicule riled you up, therefore you turned around and shoved him away once he was close enough: "Fuck off!"

"Keep your voice down." Joel spoke calmly.

You found yourself obeying almost immediately, the exhaustion mixed with embarrassment made your voice crack when you spoke: "Go away, Joel."

Your anger was superior at that moment, but you still -god fucking dammit- wanted him.

Frustrated, you were absolutely irritated by this man whom you wanted; you wanted to kiss him, wanted him to touch you, grab the undersides of your thighs and press you against the wall as he bit your collarbone... You managed to throw that away- if there was anything to throw away in the first place. Hours ago, when he 'helped' you with your stretches- he also showed up to the dance, even though he had said he wouldn't. He clearly liked you, but didn't he want you?

Why didn't he want you?

"Stop bein' stubborn and let me walk you home-"

"I'm not being stubborn, I just don't want you to... to..."

"To what?" He took a few steps in your direction, slowly. In truth, you didn't want him to see you in your current state. You were a mess, not your usual self and it made you want to get swallowed by the ground. "What, (Y/N)?" His voice softened and quietened as he used the side of his pointing finger to gently push your chin up so he could look into your eyes. "Say it."

Your eyes- glowing, beautiful eyes stared into his own. For a moment, you almost leaned into the small touch, but instead you pushed his hand away reluctantly: "Fine. Once I'm inside, you leave."

Joel agreed and watched you lead the way to your house. You ran a hand through your hair and huffed, slowly starting to lose your nerve in the meantime.

He was right with almost everything he said and had to say: You were struggling to stand up, had a killer headache with the urge to empty the contents of your stomach. The bathroom floor seemed like the ideal place to pass out on, the cold tiles would help you with the hot night air of Jackson-

You found yourself on your doorstep, reaching for the key to your house in the pocket of your skirt. Deep in thought and not all too displeased by his existence behind you, you almost forgot Joel was there. Trying to mask the sounds of your failed attempts at fitting the key into the hole, you spoke: "I'm here, safe n' sound. You can leave now."

Instead of replying, he walked up and lightly pressed himself against you when he took your key holding hand in his, gently squeezed it and helped you push it into the hole. Your breath hitched at the touch, heat gathering at your cheeks as he slowly twisted the key for you (you had lost function when you realised just how close he was). His chest easily covered your back, his scent somewhat invaded your senses and made you lean back before he opened the door. Your gaze lowered to the floor once he pushed it open and realised you had to reach the bathroom as soon as possible.

----B

Snapping back to reality, you marched to the bathroom in a few quick steps, Joel following suit. He closed the door behind him and once he reached to the bathroom door, just in time, he saw you drop to your knees in front of the toilet. Instinct taking over, he immediately walked behind you and collected your hair from in front of your face, then gently pulled them into a ponytail in one hand.

Fuck.

The nausea suddenly disappeared and got replaced, once more, with need when you realised what he had done. Your heavy breathing started to slow down as you two stood like that for a torturous minute.

"You okay?" Joel hesitantly asked, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. You silently nodded, trembling hands gripping the toilet seat harder, then finally pushed yourself up and Joel stepped back, keeping a hand hovering by your waist in case you fell.

Without saying anything, you washed your hands and splashed some water on your face, rubbing it as a means to sober yourself. Once you were done, you spread your arms to the sides and placed them on the edges of the sink, leaning down. You felt too awkward to look him in the eye, so, while burning a hole into the sink with your stare, you asked: "What are you doing here, Joel?" He was caught off guard. Before he had a chance to reply, you added: "What- I mean, you're getting off to seeing me all... miserable and- and humiliated? Is that it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He crossed his arms.

"You've mocked me quite enough, sir," You hissed, faking a different accent and pushed yourself off the sink. Joel took a step back outside to the hall when you walked towards him. "First you reject me, then call me drunk and then-"

"Please, look me in the eye and tell me you aren't drunk right now."

"Well, I'm not," You dropped your hands in defeat and let them slap against the sides of your thighs. "Not enough to not see what I want."

Joel's heart started racing at your words. He gave you an indecisive look, along with shock, lust and a side of shame: "I..."

"Why don't you want me?" You whispered, leaning against the wall behind you. Your expression simply laid between fatigued and trying-not-to-cry. Joel, on the other hand, was shocked. He had no idea about what he should say or do, so he gave himself a moment to recollect.

"Aren't you- I dunno, datin' someone?" He tried.

"What do you think?" You asked, as if you couldn't have been more obvious.

"Wouldn't you..." He tried again. "Shouldn't you be with someone your age?"

"Should?" You repeated, frowning, but you weren't angry.

"You didn't seem to have a problem with kissin' Jesse in there," He took a step towards you. "You should-"

"What the fuck do you know about what I should or shouldn't do?" You groaned. "Are you jealous? Is that it?"

"Oh, for god's sake," He turned his head away in frustration before looking back at you. His expression and voice softened: "You're so young, (Y/N)..."

"So? I know what I want." You stated and crossed your arms. You're so young and beautiful with your 30s ahead of you and you shouldn't waste your time on someone old like me. He was standing an arm away from you when you spoke again: "I know what you want, too. If only you'd stop making excuses."

"Why don't we let this go, hm? What do you want from me?" He lowered his voice, now deep and husky.

You stared into his eyes for awhile, then fixed your posture and straightened up, still leaning against the wall. Determined, you spoke: "You either leave me alone- walk out of that door and I'll be out of your hair forever."

Joel hated the idea as soon as he heard it, so he impatiently grunted: "Or?"

Your eyes flickered down to his lips for a solid second, then went back up to his eyes. "Stay. And kiss me."

There it was. The moment of truth.

Joel knew you wouldn't be so insistent if you didn't know he wanted you as much as you did him. He also knew that you had him where you wanted and that you'd also keep your promise about staying out of his hair- he didn't want you to, though. He'd hate himself if he broke your heart and even more so if he walked out of that door. So, with one last hesitation, his self control slowly disappearing, he asked: "Where does Jesse stand in all this?"

Yes, your mind screamed. He's going to stay.

"He's just a friend. He kissed me on my cheek, I don't understand why you're-"

"Cheek?" He asked abruptly, brows raising and eyes widening in unison. In his defense, from the angle he was sitting, plus the whiskey he'd been drinking, he was pretty sure Jesse had kissed you on the lips. The way he'd grabbed your cheek and the look of worry after you left hadn't helped either.

You chuckled: "Just admit you were jealous."

He didn't say a word, instead he just stared into your puffy eyes for a moment too long, then closed the space between your bodies. Before he knew it, he grabbed you by the hips and, finally, pressed his lips onto yours.

It was a little embarrassing, just how quick you were to gasp and moan into his mouth. He then pulled back, placed a hand on the side of your neck gently and pushed your head up with his thumb on your chin, wrecking you with one move. He looked into your eyes, then growled: "You've been drivin' me up the wall, y'know that? This morning, then at the dance..." He sighed, looked down and when he looked back up, he said: "I won't be gentle."

Was it that obvious that you wanted to be totally ruined by him?

You never looked anywhere else other than his eyes, too afraid that if you did, he'd disappear. So when he spoke, the words sending a thrill down your spine, you whispered back: "No one's asking you to."

If your legs were keeping you up to some level, they sure as shit weren't going to do that anymore because of the roughness of the kiss. It had a side of gentleness and professionalism to it too- had he kissed or made out with someone recently? Or even for once ever since he arrived in Jackson? He must've had, he was just so attractive and must've pulled someone into his web like he did with you. It wasn't his fault, really, but he contributed.

His tongue parted your lips and you let him explore your mouth, whining and moaning as quietly as possible. God, you thought, this must be heaven. The way he easily dominated you and made you weak in the knees probably made someone as confident as you look really pathetic, but you couldn't care less. He made you a dripping mess and him only, the rest wasn't important.

While his left hand was on your waist, the hand resting on the side of your throat wasn't squeezing but you wouldn't mind if he added a little pressure. The heavy breathing, your occasional whimpers and the promise of a rough treatment made your pussy ache with excitement - you could tell, by the hardness against your core and inner thigh, he was about the same.

For someone who practically sealed a deal to fuck you until you couldn't walk for the entirety of next week, he was still holding back. As much as it warmed your heart, it was your cunt that demanded attention at that moment: You decided to bite on his bottom lip; he pulled back with a groan, surprised and his hand flexed around your neck. Bingo.

The space between your faces wasn't even a span away, but he took his time to stare at you as you grabbed his right hand and moved it onto your throat slowly. Joel's breathing faltered at the sight: You, lips swollen, eyes a little puffy and your hand on his larger one around your throat with the most devilish smile across your pretty face. If it was even possible, Joel dived back into your lips with more roughness.

You started tugging at his belt as he devoured you, pressing his whole body against yours, making you overheat and feel dizzy. The sounds you were making seemed to turn him on more, his aggressiveness and movement speed increased whenever he felt your throat twitch under his palm.

To your disappointment, he let his hands go to aid you with his belt, but his lips stayed on yours. As soon as his belt hit the floor, however, he took his shirt off. He didn't even bother with opening the buttons and threw it over his head, tossing it to the floor. You gulped at how well built his body was, a few scars here and there and a decent amount of chest hair that followed a trail down his jeans.

Before you could faint at the sight, he immediately went back to kissing you; this time he moved to your cheek briefly and settled on your neck. A gasp left your lips involuntarily when he hit jackpot, sucking a hickey on your soft spot.

"Joel!" You hissed, or moaned, didn't matter- you pulled on his hair and stopped him. "No marks."

"Why not?"

Fuckingshitfuckfuckingdammit-

His tone was so seductive, so inviting that you couldn't fight him. The only reason you didn't want marks was simply because it was summer and you couldn't wear the layers of clothes and neckwear you wore in winter - it sure as shit was going to get questioned a lot and rumours spread around Jackson quicker than wildfire.

He didn't wait for your response of course and sunk his teeth into the crook of your neck, making you let out a rather pornographic moan. His naked body was on fire under your fingers, nails embedded themselves into his upper back when he sucked and licked on the spot he bit.

You wanted to scream out, tell him to bite you again, mark you everywhere and claim you as his, but as expected, you were too overwhelmed to utter a single word.

Joel then grabbed your thighs and pushed you up when you jumped. He trapped you between his hot body and cool wall, both sensations sent your body into a frenetic struggle, his soft lips nipping at your collarbones and large hands groping the backs of your thighs. You let go of him in order to remove your t-shirt with urgency, revealing your bra to him. He was quick to attack the tops of your breasts, sucking and biting there too. The bites weren't rough like he was trying to tear into your flesh, but there was just enough pressure to paint the skin purple.

You loved every fucking second.

"Fuck," You sighed, running your hands through his gray locks as he pulled your nipple out of the cup of the bra. "Oh..." The wetness of his tongue against your nipple made your brain short-circuit. "Oh, Joel-"

He grunted when you said his name, his cock pressing against your heat: "Yeah? You like this?"

"Fuck, so good-" You choked out when he spoke, nails digging at his shoulder and the back of his neck, making you squirm in his grip. After a moment, your other nipple was seen to the same treatment. You couldn't wait to see the rounds of teeth marks and bruises on yourself when you woke up in the morning.

Before he could do anything further, you tapped his shoulder and removed yourself from his hold, stepping on the ground with unstable legs- you immediately dropped onto your knees. The sight made Joel produce a sound between a grunt and a moan, his hand going to rest along the side of your face. He wanted to tell you that you didn't have to, but the way you eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants kept him quiet.

You pulled his pants down, only to reveal his rather big erection straining against his boxers. The scene made you sigh, then look up when you grabbed him through his underwear; he leaned forward, pushing your back against the wall once more. He then pulled your hair oh so slowly into a ponytail and gathered it in one hand, then tugged your head back: "Don't tease me, girl."

If it weren't for your urgency to put him in your mouth, you would continue to tease him; his voice was dangerously low, threatening even, you wanted to see the outcome, but not today. You never broke eye contact when you smirked and pulled his boxers down, but you had to when his cock stood tall and proud inches away from your face.

You stared, eyes widening and mouth falling open (and quite possibly drooling at how big he was), Joel tsked at your expression: "Look at you, so eager for me."

You simply nodded, before licking the tip of his cock experimentally. He was, unsurprisingly, warm. His right hand clenched around your hair as he leaned the other against the wall. After running your tongue over his slit you finally took him in your mouth. A rough grunt vibrated in his chest and he threw his head back when you looked up, making you moan around him.

It was a struggle to fit all of him in your mouth, you saw it coming, but you forced your throat to relax so he could finally fuck it without further ado. After pulling back for a moment and taking a deep breath while working your hand on his length to cover for the loss of your mouth, you took him back in.

He hit the back of your throat, making you gag and instinctively pull back, but the hand on the back of your head stopped you and you moaned.

"Fuck-" Joel groaned and placed his other hand through your hair. He was slowly giving himself to the pleasure. You grabbed the sides of his thighs and braced yourself, letting him know that he can do whatever he wanted to. Thus, he started thrusting his hips with a slow but harsh pace. You did your best to relax your throat more and went as far as to brush your fingertips against his balls.

"Shit, (Y/N)," He hissed and picked up pace, the roughness easing up a bit. "That mouth- Gonna fuckin' ruin me-"

It was satisfying to know how much power you held over Joel Miller, but it was only a matter of time that he found out just how much power he held over you.

He pushed your head against the wall, anchoring you in place and gave you a moment to breathe, before searching your eyes for permission to absolutely ruin, or rather, destroy you - you just wanted him to fuck your mouth until you couldn't take it anymore (you were also sure that, even if it got to the point, you'd still beg for his cock down your throat).

He firmly pressed his hands to the back of your head to keep your head from hitting the wall and began thrusting his hips again. You had nowhere to run, he literally had you trapped and it turned you on so much.

His pace became rougher overtime and he began making you gag with each hit to the back of your throat. The noises were bringing him closer to climax and you were more than ready to have him spill his seed down your throat, but he seemed to have another idea.

A growl, gruttal, erupted from his throat and he pulled back at the same time. You panted, a thin line of saliva connected his cock to your lips and tears were gathered at the corners of your eyes, not to mention your throbbing pussy.

He groaned and held your chin in his palm, looking down at you while he breathed heavily. "So pretty down on your knees for me..."

You moaned when he leaned down to kiss you, not even thinking about the usual ew you just had my dick in your mouth I'm not gonna kiss you.

You sighed - What a man.

He was no boy, oh no. Joel was a man: Older, more experienced and was about to prove how he wasn't after just his own pleasure, that he also knew how to please his partner. He was also going to show how much your pleasure mattered to him and how much it turned him on to see you lose yourself in the euphoria.

He pulled his boxers up but stepped out of his pants which were pooled around his ankles, leaving his shoes with the bunch, then helped you up as he tasted himself on your tongue. He lifted you up again, making you wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you over to the table in your room. He carefully placed you on the hard, wooden surface and proceeded to take off your bra; you kissed his neck lightly as he did, which made him sigh into your hair. You then sucked a hickey right above his collarbone, which made him, quite literally, rip your bra off. You snickered at his reaction, taken aback by how harshly he threw your bra across the room. The gesture seemed to have awoken something primal within him: "What? You want another bite, sugar?"

You nodded, pushing your legs apart instinctively, your skirt doing a sinful job at covering you. He looked down to where you were inviting him, then looked back at you. Smirking, he lowered himself onto his knees: "I'm afraid I'll have to tend to the rest of your body another time, sweetheart."

You blinked and stared at him as he gently put your legs over his shoulders: "Another time?"

"Wouldn't you wanna... do this again?" He asked a little hesitantly.

"I..." Your dumbfounded expression stretched to an excited one, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'd love nothing more."

Joel smiled back, then turned his head to place a kiss on the inside of your right thigh after grunting: "Good."

You gasped at how good the scratch of his beard felt against the sensitive skin of your thigh. His kisses were wet and accompanied by occasional sucks here and there, until he bit down at the soft flesh.

"Joel- Ah, fuck," You tugged at his hair, but this time without the intentions of stopping him from marking you. You absolutely adored the way he knew exactly what he was doing and it was perfect.

He then followed the same path on your left thigh: Kisses, sucks and a bite on the exact same spot. You bucked your hips forward with a desperate, pathetic moan.

"What's that? You want somethin'?" Joel looked up into your eyes, slowly sneaking his hands up to entwine them with yours. "Speak up, darlin'."

The pet names were an ache both in your heart and pussy, so you spoke up, barely: "I need you Joel..."

The words made him stand up, your legs still over his broad shoulders. He leaned down, made your legs drop onto the crooks of his arms. He held them as he leaned further down until your noses almost touched, your legs and arms wrapping around his body: "Yeah? Tell me what you need baby."

"I need you to-" You stumbled on your words for a moment because, as much as you wanted to experience how it was like to have your pussy eaten by Joel Miller, you also needed his cock inside you - ASAP. "Fuck, Joel, I need your- your mouth-"

He interrupted you with a deep kiss, then pulled back and sat down on his knees once more, pulling your legs over his shoulders. You didn't stop a long and loud whine from leaving your throat when he pushed your panties aside and licked all the way from the source of your juices up to your clit. His hands had a hard grip around your hips, hopefully hard enough to leave marks.

"Joel..." You threw your head back lazily as he lapped at your juices. You put one hand on the back of his head while the other supported you to stand straight on the desk, your legs squeezing around his head lightly. It was the breaking point for you when he pushed your legs apart and pulled back, his beard glistening.

"Be a good girl and keep them pretty legs open for me."

Your jaw hit the ground, hard, and you felt your soul leaving your body right before he dived back into your folds. A silent scream hung on the edge of your mouth when he sucked your clit, the sticky noises making your legs tremble uncontrollably. You had a particularly hard time keeping your legs open, so when they closed around his head again, Joel swatted your inner thigh, making you jump up with a gasp.

He looked into your eyes, pulled back and spoke once more: "What did I just say?" You immediately opened up for him, spreading your thighs as far as you could, almost at a 150° angle. That didn't seem to be enough for him, however, so he grabbed your ankles and pulled you towards him until you were sitting at the edge of the desk: "Don't push it, girl. Repeat it."

"Okay!" You cried out when he bit down on your sensitive skin, harder than before, adding another mark right next to the first one. "I'll keep them open, I'll-"

He experimentally licked at your clit and with all the power and strength you could gather, you kept them open. After a moment, he pulled back, gently kissed the place he bit and said: "Good girl."

You couldn't do this anymore, you were so fucking devestated. It was so incredulous, too overwhelming, that you dropped yourself on your back and cried out. Half of Jackson must've heard that, if not your neighbour next door.

He started to kiss your thighs again, and between the kisses he spoke: "Look at you... So wet for me, so good for me." He sucked another hickey -you'd lost count at this point- closer to your pussy and growled. "You gettin' off to this, hm? Some old man eating your pretty little pussy up?"

He wasn't just some man, though. He was Joel Miller. It was Joel fucking Miller between your thighs, talking dirty to you, setting your cheeks, neck and the rest of your body on fire: "Yes, oh god yes-!"

Joel smirked when he realised he was finally getting to you, but hissed when he shifted and his painfully hard cock protested against his thighs. It was time to speed things up a little, even though he was really enjoying having you squirming under his tongue.

He calculated his next move for a moment, then slowly, pressed a finger inside you. However, he ended up retreating the digit when your legs snapped shut around his shoulders at the feel, and you realised the mistake you made a moment too late. You immediately stood up where you sat and he got up with you, clicking his tongue disapprovingly: "Alright, if you're not gonna be good and listen to me..."

He suddenly pulled you off the desk, carried you bridal style and climbed onto the bed with you in his arms. It all happened so fast you couldn't even process how you were suddenly sitting on the bed between Joel's legs. He settled down and leaned his back against the headboard, then pulled you flush into his chest: "Open up."

You did as he asked and as soon as you parted your legs, he planted his feet next to the insides of your calves, so that you couldn't close them. Your head dropped against his right shoulder and he was quick to pepper your neck with kisses again. His right hand sneaked down to your panties while his other hand kneaded your breast. You whined, eyes closed: "Joel..."

"That feel good, baby?" He whispered against the shell of your ear, then lightly nibbled on it.

"Yes, yes-" You spoke, feverish, then interrupted yourself with a moan once he inserted a finger inside you. You tried to move, but he immediately wrapped his hand around your throat and inserted a second finger.

"Oh no," He snickered, placing a mocking kiss on your cheek. "You don't get to have whatever you want, not after that show you pulled off." You wanted to respond, but his erection digging at your lower back and the fast come hither motions inside you making your legs tremble gave you a hard time multitasking. "You don't get to be all cute to me- then go kiss other boys. Oh, no you don't..."

You were overheating, malfunctioning and feeling dizzy, the familiar white hot pleasure tingling around the corner. You couldn't move- you could only sink your nails into the sides of his thighs as he fucked you with his thick fingers - two buried, pumping deep inside you and five of them around your throat did indescribable things to you.

"Where'd all that confidence go, huh?" He chuckled after he suddenly pulled out and you cried out, not speaking but physically begging to have him inside you. "You pissed me off a lot, you know- Fuck, n' I'm still givin' you what you ask for. You see what you do to me, sweetie?"

You nodded, a phantom of the word yes left your lips, then suddenly you pushed yourself impossibly closer to him when he re-entered with three fingers, stretching you so fucking good: "Oh Joel, please~"

He listened to you say his name over and over like a silent prayer as his fingers produced incredible pleasure and noises from between your legs. Each thrust of his fingers equaled a high-pitched gasp- he kept at it for another moment, bringing you closer and closer to your climax, then pulled out and unexpectedly squeezed the hand around your throat: "You think you deserve this, huh? After everything you did- Think you earned it?"

"N-No," You replied hesitantly, thrusting your hips forward as you did, which earned you a smack across your oversensitive thigh. "Fuck-!"

"Tsk," He shifted his hand upwards, turning your jaw more to the left so he could pepper your jaw with ghostly kisses. "I'm spoilin' you... Don't even know your place-"

"No, I do-" You switched tactics and tried begging verbally, but it earned you another smack, this time right on your pussy, which made you jump.

He cooed, rubbing your clit: "Who does this belong to, then?"

"You- To you," You gulped, breath hitching at the sensation, your bare shoulders tensing against his chest.

He smacked your pussy again, then asked: "Couldn't hear you, darlin'." As soon as you moaned another series of yous, he kissed your neck affectionately, then whispered: "Atta girl."

He took his time while he coaxed your orgasm out of you. A soft yet effective press of the pads of his fingers against your nerves and, with a series of profanities spilling from your mouth with moans, you came undone- saw the stars when he helped you through your orgasm and overstimulated you afterwards.

Boneless was one word to describe your state, melted was another. You were practically both, you couldn't even lift a finger when he removed himself from behind you and laid you down on the bed. The both of you were covered in sweat and panting, you almost missed the adoration in Joel's eyes when he brushed some hair away from your face. Your legs were still trembling, hickeys were showing their colours on your skin and he couldn't help but place the most gentle kiss on your lips, then replaced his mouth with his sticky fingers. He stood on his knees between your legs and extended his arm to your face: "Suck." You obeyed immediately, taking at first two, then three fingers into your mouth. You sucked and licked them, making Joel hiss: "We're not done yet."

"Good," You sighed, leaving his fingers with a wet sound and smirking at him wickedly. You wanted him to unload on you, punish you for misbehaving.

"You're a naughty girl, ain't ya?" He growled, snickering down at you as he removed your panties and threw them... somewhere. You nodded, regaining your energy, that bratty smile driving him crazy. "Get up. On all fours."

"And... What if I don't?" You smiled innocently at him, dragging your foot up the insides of his thighs. Clearly, your confidence started sprouting again and that needed to be taken care of. He stared into your eyes all the while, then hissed when your foot pressed against his clothed crotch.

Without saying another word, he suddenly grabbed your ankles, yanked you towards him and turned you around in a single second, making you yelp. He pressed his body on yours, putting his forearms next to your head and leaned in to your ear: "Oh, that's not how it works, princess." He placed a kiss behind your ear and pulled you up by your hips, pressing on the back of your neck so you stayed down while he raised your ass up, arching your back. Your skirt, once more, sinfully and barely covered your ass and Joel moaned at the sight, then yanked his underwear down, a hand ghosting over your ass: "I'm gonna make sure," He grunted as he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, then traced it up and down, coating it with your juices. "That you forget your name after we're done." He started to push in, slowly as he didn't want to cause you any discomfort. "But you'll still remember who you belong to."

"Ah~" You moaned, grabbing his hips as he pushed in. The promise of having your insides rearranged sounded too good to be true, but there you were, Joel's cock inside you and making you lose your mind. He stopped when he finally had his cock completely buried in you. "You're so- So, oh- So big-"

"Hm? Does it feel good?" His voice strained as he did his best to wait for you to adjust.

"So good, Joel- Feels so fucking good," You were practically crying at that point, without tears that was. You noticed how his behaviour changed when you responded to him, when you behaved like his good girl.

"Yeah?" He began moving very slowly, eyes closed, struggling to keep his posture. "Good-" He groaned, then removed your hands from his thighs and brought them together behind your back. He took your wrists in one hand, pressed them against your waist and started fucking you. His hips snapped against your ass and the backs of your thighs, the noises that came out as a result were absolutely amazing.

His thrusts were precise: For someone who had a hard time controlling himself, he had incredible control over his body while he fucked you into the mattress, setting fire to your insides once more.

It wasn't long before he brought you to the edge again, bringing down a few smacks down your ass here and there, making you gasp and push your hips down on his cock. However, the start of your unravelling was triggered when he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He didn't yank on it, but he held your head off the pillows and made you cry out: "Fuck!"

"You like this, sweetheart?" He growled when you clenched around him. "So tight- Goddamn-"

You wish you could say you were embarrassed when you let out another high-pitched moan- a sound you didn't know you were capable of making. Suddenly he turned you around and pushed you on your back, grabbed your thighs, hooked them over his own, then sunk into you again. He didn't move, though, which made you look up with a devastated expression, only to find him snickering at you: "Look at you..."

You sighed, pushing yourself up and down, telling him to start moving, but a hand around your throat had you paralysed on spot: "So pretty with my cock in your tight little cunt." You moaned and gripped his biceps which looked delicious under the moonlight: "You want me to fuck you, huh baby?"

"Yes, yes Joel-" You nodded furiously, thighs trembling around his waist. He started rocking into you again, making you look into his eyes as he did.

"You wanna know what it feels like when a man makes you cum?" He gritted his teeth and picked up pace, going deeper.

"Yes!" Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, your juices leaking out of your pussy. "Please fuck me Joel-!"

You couldn't tell if it was a moan or a shout that came out of Joel's mouth (as well as yours), but it clearly had magical effects as you felt a second wave of orgasm wash over you. His hand around your throat joined the other on your hips, with a bruising grip that you already came to love.

He suddenly pulled out and a second later, had his seed spilling on your abdomen. He clearly waited for you to finish first, which made your heart do a few flips. He slowly lowered himself on top of you as he panted, a hand resting on the side of your head, caressing it gently. Your hand instinctively went through his hair and held him there, too shocked to actually say anything, legs trembling occasionally.

"Shit..." He finally sighed and dragged his head off your chest and looked into your eyes. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

It took you second to process what he asked. You blinked and nodded, eyes glowing and beaming at him: "I'm okay- No, you didn't hurt me, I'm fine. I really..."

"What?" He offered a small smile and moved his hand onto your cheek, noticing how you were suddenly shying away. "You liked it?"

You nodded once more, smile turning mischievous: "I did." You then slowly pushed on his chest: "Very much..." His heart started beating faster the second his back met the mattress and you straddled his hips. The short amount of time it took your insides to start coiling with desire again excited you. Joel was about the same- A simple motion such as getting on top of him, rubbing your wetness on his skin almost immediately had his softening member fully hard again. "We're not done yet, are we?"

There wasn't any indication that you were taking over as far as Joel could tell, but after what you both did, you were full of surprises in his eyes: "No, we're not sweetheart." You flashed your teeth at him before taking him in hand and pumping him a few times, feeling him grow larger in your palm. He growled and grabbed your hips, then slammed you down on his cock, making you moan loudly: "Oh, we're not done, alright."

You put your hands on his chest to get some sort of support, but didn't move, expecting him to start thrusting up into you. He didn't, though, so you gave him a quizzical look. Before you could ask what was wrong, his hands slowly began moving down your thighs.

"Go on," He groaned. "Show me what you got."

Your brain, once again, short-circuited but Joel made sure to snap you back to reality- literally. He snapped his hips up and the force made you let out a short squeal, immediately putting you to work.

The moment you started rocking your hips back and forth, the grip he had on your thighs tightened. You purposefully put your arms closer together so that your breasts pressed against one another, and the noises you made with your skirt still around your waist - the sight made him throw his head back on the pillows and had a moan escaping his throat. You started moving faster, which made him hold your waist with one hand and smack your ass with the other, making you jump forwards.

"Such a good girl," He praised. "Fucking yourself on my cock like this-"

The dirty talk shot right through to your clit and your movements faltered, your thighs squeezing around his hips. Something feral and raw poked its head out from its hiding spot, hidden amongst your fantasies, so you picked up pace but not without grabbing his wrists and slamming them above his head, keeping them there as you rode him.

Joel was, once again, surprised at the sudden move, but he allowed you to chase your pleasure for a while. He closed his eyes and focused entirely on the motion of your hips and the tightness of your cunt.

It felt so good.

To finally have you for himself- it still came with a side of guilt, but he simply couldn't bring himself to care. You wanted this, you needed him and you told him, this wasn't some stupid dream or his late night thoughts: This was quite real.

Not for too long, though. He was almost lost in the pleasure when he noticed your hand going down to your clit.

Your cries came to an abrupt halt when he suddenly wriggled his hands out of your grasp and had one wrapped around your throat, the other holding the hand on your clit behind your back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly: "So eager to cum, are you? To fuck me over, huh?"

"Yes," You moaned, even though you weren't sure what he truly meant by fucking him over. "Only you- Only for you-"

The words made Joel's hips thrust up, touching a new spot deep within you, then set a brutal pace. You could only hold onto his forearm below your throat as he fucked you and stimulated that spot.

"Who does this belong to?" He asked, pressing a thumb right onto your clit, bringing you to the very edge.

"You, Joel," Your now free hand pressed on his thumb to move it, but he was quick to swat your hand away.

"Who do you belong to?" He growled and lowered you closer to him.

"You- I belong to you," You whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks. "Please, l-let me cum..."

"Such a good girl, ain't you?" He kissed your cheek and picked up the brutal pace as if he hadn't stopped in the first place. You couldn't take it anymore, so you let go.

No one had made you come like Joel Miller did, thrice in the same night.

With a final gruttal groan, he thrusted his cock deep inside you and spilled his seed, the exhaustion and the feeling knocking you on your face on his chest. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, thrusted a few more times and went incredibly still, save for the panting.

"That was... so fucking good..." You breathed and made Joel's chest tremble with a brief laugh.

"Oh sugar," He placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. "You're gonna be the death of me."

[frostedfaves]

Oasis

Masterlist

Pairing: dom!Natasha Romanoff x sub!fem!reader

Summary: Natasha promised you relief later, but you’d never been one to have patience.

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!!!), dom/sub, daddy kink, penetration, fingering, sex toy use, public(ish) sex, hair pulling

A/N: this didn’t turn out as long as I wanted it to be, but it did inspire a (possible) series for the future. no promises that it’ll happen anytime soon though haha. anyway, please don’t be afraid to tell me your thoughts on this!

-

Natasha should’ve known you’d cause a problem today, from the moment she woke up to the sight of you, naked and straddling her waist with a smile.

“What are you doing?” she questioned with a sleepy mumble, rubbing her eyes and ignoring the way your hands slowly slid past her barely covered breasts to rest on her shoulders.

“I thought you might appreciate the view.”

“I do.”

Despite the confirmation, she pushed you away so she could climb out of bed, causing you to flop down on your side of the bed with a frustrated huff. A pout formed on your lips as you scrambled across the mattress, locking both hands around her wrist before she could head off to the bathroom.

“I wanna play.”

“I’m aware, baby, but Daddy’s very busy this morning.” She leaned down to kiss your forehead gently and briefly. “Give me a few hours without trouble, and I’ll play with you, okay?”

“Can I at least join you in the shower?”

“Only if you behave,” she sighed, her frown shifting to an amused grin when you hopped off the bed and skipped past her into the bathroom.

After the surprisingly uneventful shower, Natasha ate toast with you in the kitchen of her private floor and departed with a lengthy kiss, smiling as you waved adorably until the elevator doors closed. She hoped it was a sign that you were being good today, but part of her knew better.

-

“Hey,” Steve greeted Natasha as she approached him on the ground floor. “How’s the wife?”

“Anxiously awaiting my return to our floor, as am I. Why can’t we just give them a map of the tower or something, or have JARVIS tell them where to go?”

“You know Stark,” Steve responded with a shrug. “What’s the point of having a tower with your name on it if you can’t give people a tour of the thing?”

“Still don’t understand why we have to be there for this,” Natasha grumbled as the main doors were opened, and Tony entered with two individuals following.

“Just the duo I was looking for!” he called with a grin as he approached. “I know you know Sam, but this is Wanda Maximoff. Fury says she’s good with her mind and could help the team out a lot on missions.”

“Hi,” Wanda softly greeted, and Natasha nodded at her in response.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wanda. I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” Wanda accepted his outstretched hand, and Natasha noticed her eyes turn slightly red as she looked into his, the color fading as she faced Natasha, who averted her gaze.

“Save some team bonding for the rest of us,” Tony teased, gesturing for the group to follow as he walked away.

“Is he always like this?” Sam questioned, and Natasha shook her head.

“Oh no, it gets worse.”

-

An hour that felt like three passed as Tony gave the two newest Avengers a tour of their new home, occasionally passing the mic along to Steve and Natasha to explain some SHIELD related things he hadn’t bothered to remember on his own. On the main floor, Natasha was just about ready to find an excuse to duck out when the elevator doors opened and you stepped out, your t-shirt and sweatpants traded for a dress that stopped above your knees.

“What’s going on here?” you questioned innocently, ignoring Natasha’s gaze on the flowy skirt of your outfit that exposed part of your upper thighs as you walked toward the group.

“You’re just in time to meet your new neighbors, Mrs. Widow,” Tony greeted you, introducing you to Wanda and Sam while you actively avoided meeting Natasha’s narrowed eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked through a clenched jaw once the group’s attention was elsewhere, following you into the kitchen.

“I was just going to head out for a bit to get some fresh air.” Your sweet smile suddenly shifted into something that Natasha knew all too well. “But first, I think I’ll get your new teammates something to drink.”

You turned and opened the fridge door, bending down to do the one thing you knew would make her snap, showing off your obvious lack of underwear. Her hand was around your arm in seconds, dragging you out of the kitchen and into the nearest bathroom. You hopped onto the counter while she locked the door, seeming not at all fazed at the boiling pot of anger evident in her expression.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

Her middle and ring fingers were in your mouth before you could respond, and you ran your tongue over them, biting down a bit as she pulled away and giggling as she forced your legs open.

“You’re wasting your time,” you gasped out as she pushed her fingers into you. “I’ve been ready for you since this morning.”

“Oh, you’re ready, are you?”

You nodded eagerly, your giddy grin shifting to a confused frown as she pulled away and reached for her belt buckle instead. Your eyes widened as she maneuvered the strap that she’d tied to her leg out into the open, her dry hand lifting your chin to force you to meet her gaze.

“When did you--?”

“You forget I’m always one step ahead of you.” She pulled you off the counter roughly and turned you around, pushing your dress up until only your breasts were covered. “You get too loud and you’ll pay for it later.”

A shaky groan fell past your lips as she slipped the toy into your wet folds, steadily rocking her hips against yours until you seemed to adjust to the length. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as she slammed into you once, twice, and a third time until she was suddenly pounding into you too fast for you to count each thrust.

“What’s the matter?” she cooed with fake concern over your muffled moans. “I thought you wanted to get fucked. You can’t handle me, can you baby?”

Your hand fell onto the counter as she grabbed your hair, pulling you up just enough to see yourself in the mirror. Sounds of pleasure escaped you at the sight of Natasha controlling you, a squeak slipping into the midst of it all when her free hand left your hip for a moment to slap your ass.

“You like watching Daddy fuck you like this don’t you? I bet you want Wanda and Sam to hear you, don’t you? Want them to hear you weak for me like this?”

“No, Daddy!” you choked out, your eyes closing as pressure began to build in your core.

“Natasha?”

You scrambled to stuff the fabric of your dress in your mouth as heavy footsteps came down the hall, fearing Natasha wouldn’t let you cum if you disobeyed her.

“Natasha, you in there?”

“Yeah, Steve. What’s up?” She dug her hand into your hip as she tugged on your hair a little harder, smirking at you in the mirror when your eyes opened again and moving her finger to her lips.

“We’re having a quick meeting in about ten minutes to introduce Sam and Wanda to the others and go over a few things.”

“Sounds good,” she replied as she shifted to start circling her fingers around your clit, chuckling at the way you began to shake in her hold. “I’ll meet you down there.”

The two of you waited in forced silence as Steve’s footsteps echoed down the hallway again, Natasha’s chuckles growing louder while you held your breath, willing your body not to give into release before you were given permission. Just when you thought you couldn’t hold on any longer, she leaned in to nibble on your lobe and--

“Make a mess, baby.”

Your vision blurred and your legs turned to jelly as you reached your limit, the skirt of your dress falling onto the counter again as you screamed out a final moan that turned into a mix of whimpers and groans. Natasha slowed her thrusts as she worked you through your orgasm, eventually pulling out and keeping a firm grip on your waist as she guided you to sit on the toilet. She quickly undid the strap of the toy while you attempted to catch your breath, biting her lip at the sight of your wet thighs.

“Get the handcuffs out and wait on the bed,” she ordered as she tossed the soaked length into your lap and zipped her pants, walking over to the door with a smirk. “And keep that pretty little dress on.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @nat-km-mh @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @messuhp @creepingwolfberry @natashadeservedmore

[a-froger-epic]

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

J

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

J

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Penthouse

Note: After events of Elevator. I love/hate this. loved starting, fucking hated finishing it. fucking nightmare. no tags, for this garbage. this hodgepodge of a story shows the weakness in my writing. ugh. 🙃 Don’t read this. i wrote this for my own entertainment. Long AF. so much preamble.

Summery: Freedom was sweet

⚠️Warning: 18+ Only content with dark themes, Kidnapping, Non Con/Dub Con, Cream-pie ⚠️

Dark Steve x Reader

🏢

You stood, back facing the multi level high rise with a banker box, filled with various items of your old life, in hand stunned. For the past few years you were held against your will by James 'Bucky' Barnes. The notorious mobster used you as his play thing, torturing, beating and occasionally starving you. Now you stood outside free.

"Hey!"

Your back tensed at the sound of the familiar right hand man of Bucky.

*It was a trap, of course.*

He wanted to see how far you would go this time, before he dragged you back to that damned penthouse.

"Never thought the day would come huh?" Steve laughed cheerfully.

You looked at him wordlessly, waiting for the shoe to drop. Instead he dug in his pocket, pulling out a fat wad of rolled up bills. Tucking it under one of the garments in the box you held.

"This should get you on your feet." Steve smiled at you. You blinked at him confused by his words. He turned from you briefly, hailing a cab to put you in.

*Was it really true? Were you really free?*

As the yellow cab pulled up an SUV parked behind it. When the back door opened the people filing out caught your eye. A beautiful woman dressed in black sequins and from what you could surmise maybe barely old enough to drink. Followed by Bucky and a few of his lackeys.

Steve lowered your head into the idling cab, careful not to hit your head on the open door. "Your replacement" comically chucking a thumb back in their direction. Closing the door he knocked on the drivers window and took out more money. Telling the cabbie to take you where ever you wanted before leaving.

Sitting in the back seat you turned and watched Bucky led the young beauty into the building. "Where to Miss?" The driver asked and it was a question you hadn't had the privilege to answer in such a long time you didn't know what to say.

🏢

It took some getting used to, but eventually you found your bearings. With the money you got a tiny apartment miles away from the penthouse. It was funny as you had always fantasized about moving to Canada or over seas if you were to ever escape Bucky, but here you were, still stuck in the same city.

Now free again you were able to live life as you wished. Eating when you wanted, going where you wanted the freedom was exhilarating. Unfortunately the time spent with Bucky you lost all the friends you had, family was scarce and thanks to him there was also a large gap in employment. Finding a job wasn't so easy, but eventually you landed on your feet.

🏢

The diner was quick to snap you up for their evening to graveyard shifts. It didn't pay well, but it was fine and you loved it for what it was. Free food, the occasional good tip, the money was enough to live off of and it was far away from Bucky's syndicate.

It took a bump from a passing waitress to bring you back to earth. A booth in your section filled to the brim with your nightmare. Looking to the door you contemplated walking straight out and never looking back. A high pitched whistle caught your attention. The table across from theirs signaled for a check.

Panicked you looked for a fellow waitress to help you out of the bind, but no one was in sight. There wasn't a point in running. If they were here, then they were going to get you.

Holding your head low you walked over, hugging the laminated menus tightly to your chest.

Quickly you handed them their receipt and tried to make your fast escape. A familiar voice cleared his throat making you jump. You stood with your backs to them for longer than would be normal and the table in front of you didn't appreciate your company.

Of course this was it. The nightmare would continue. Turning to the table you greeted them robotic-ally. As if they didn't all know your name already. While you passed them the menus it was if you didn't exist. Your eyes darted back and forth between each of them, barely a glance as they received the menu.

Your heart ached for the girl that was now your replacement. You could see from her face that she was running on fumes. You wondered how long Bucky had kept her up, breaking her in, if she tried to escape like you had.

A day out for you was normally a reward for good behavior, so she must be a 'Good Doll', you shuttered at the recollection.

"Long time no see!" Steve perked up when he finally turned his head to notice you. You had to ignore the prickles, control your nerves like you used to when you went out with Bucky, but he didn't look your way.

"I will be your server today. Is there anything I can start you off to drink with today?" Your voice came out as even as you could get it. Digging out your pen and pad, almost dropping it as you trembled.

"This is what you've been up to huh" Steve asked, his volume louder than others around him would like. He was the only one who seemed to care about your presence, the others just ignored you, going over the menus.

Your heart wanted to break through your chest as you tried to hold it together. When no one else seemed to care still, you could finally try to breathe properly. Bucky was too focused on his phone and from the subtle movements of his arm under the table, the girl fidgeting next to him.

* Just stick to the script don't engage in anything else.*

"I will give you folks a few minutes then come back to take your order."  you said ignoring him. Steve frowned at that, but you knew he wouldn’t move without Bucky’s order. Walking back you felt stiff and you were sure that sweat was seeping through your uniform.

🏢

You were a nerves wreck once you finally ducked into the little waitress nook by the kitchen. Scrubbing your face with your hands you took several deep breaths, the action not really taking the effect you wanted.

"Excuse me" her voice was barely above a whisper and though you never heard it you knew who it belonged to.

"Go back to your table Miss." you refused to look at her.

"Please you don't understand" her soft voice shook. You knew that if you looked, her face would be filled with tears. When she touched your shoulder you fell away tripping over your own feet as you rushed away. Finally you were face to face with her.

"I need your help, please" you were right she was crying.

"Get the hell away from me!" You pressed your back flat against the wall. Huddled in the corner as guilt and self preservation fought a battle inside of you.

"Everything alright back here?" Steve popped his head through the doorway.

"Y-yep.......just fine she needed to uhhh p-pee and I was just showing her the way" you felt your heart bash inside your chest once again. Steve wasn't stupid, but you prayed that he believed you.

With her back to Steve you knew that look and a part of you felt guilty for doing nothing. The young girl walked past you  to the restroom while Steve lingered in the hall. Lowering your gaze you peel yourself off the wall and slunk into the kitchen.

Steve followed, leaning in the archway of the kitchen. You tried to look busy and you were surprised that the cooks didn't ask him to leave. Even this far out their reach stretched you guessed.

"Can't speak to old an old friend?" Steve inquired.

"Steve, please..."

Steve may have looked sweet, but he was never one for sympathy.

"You're not in trouble I just came to say 'hi'."

*Bull shit*

He turned his head to see the young beauty leaving the restroom and you were glad. You didn't want to see him dragging her out if it came down to it.

*She must've run before.*

"Whelp it was nice talking to you again" he said as he followed arms length behind the girl.

🏢

"You folks ready to order" you forced another smile as you talked. It was almost eerie how they acted like any other customer. It was as if you hadn't known these men for the past five years. Each gave you their order. You served without any further incident.

When they finally left they even gave you a sizable tip. It seemed now that you were truly just a faded memory to Bucky.

🏢

Heading home on the train you couldn't wait to feed the alley cat friend you were trying to earn the trust of. Another day bringing him left over food from work.

"Here puss, puss" you called out to the darkened alleyway. Pinching off pieces of meat and tossing it about.

Your name was called out so you instinctively turned to find the sound. When your eyes found Steve you dropped everything you had and ran. You didn't know where you were going, shoving through various people as you booked it down the avenue.

The lights of a tea house caught your eye in the far distance. Dashing inside you try and calm down and walk to the bathroom hurriedly. Ducking into and locking one of the stalls you stood on the toilet seat and waited.

Hoping he didn't see which way you had gone.

The door to the restroom opened slowly, the sound of foot steps crept closer to your stall. Holding your hands over your mouth you tried to hold in your sobs. It was hard to control your breathing, you were panting heavily from the run. Even with your eyes squeezed shut you knew he was standing right in front of the stall you hid in.

"I know it's been a while...but you should know better than to run from me." His dark chuckle filled you with dread.

"You had fun right?"

🏢

The numbers ticked up in the metal lift slowly. The whole way up you looked down at your feet. Unable to bare the cocky look on Steve's face.

Stepping out of the elevator, the hall that led to the penthouse was long, but not enough. Steve moved from behind you and opened the door. The familiar cold chill of the penthouse hit you. Taking your shoes off at the door you walked over to the living room area.

"I'm really quite surprised. I thought you would've skipped town... Thought you would make me chase you half way around the world." Steve chuckled, that was the straw that broke the damn. Your face felt drenched, you had tried so hard not to cry in front of him, but once again you failed.

The past few months felt like a dream, in the back of your mind you knew it was a lie.

"You should probably get undressed." Steve ordered. You heard him shimmy out of his jacket, hanging it on the door as you sobbed.

Steve was just parroting orders from Bucky you were sure. It didn't matter that Steve was in the room, Bucky was what you were more worried about. He had let you go and for some reason he got his dog to drag you back. Steve's presence only added to the humiliation, defeat and soon further shame.

🏢

You stripped yourself of your clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on a pile next to the couch. The room felt colder, your skin and nipples prickled while you walked over to Bucky's chair.

Bucky had a favorite chair in the living room. A seat that was solely reserved for him and that is were you stood, naked while you waited for him to appear.

He normally was already sitting waiting. Not seeing him there didn't help stop the tears from flowing. Had you pissed him off at the diner? Had something happened to the girl? Did she tell him that she talked to you?

Behind the chair you were able to gaze at the city as you thought through each possible slight. Steve walked up from behind, placing a hand on your shoulder causing you to jump.

"Calm down he isn't here." Steve told you as he held up his hands in surrender, flopping down on the seat before you.

There had been many an occasion that you witnessed unknowing souls sit in Bucky's chair. The action seen by him as an unforgivable level of disrespect that made your stomach turn as he would rectify the slight.

The chair was Bucky's throne and only to be christened by him and him alone.

Steve's legs spread wide in defiance as he made himself comfortable as you tried to understand the sight of Bucky's most loyal man before you.

"Bucky won't like you in his chair." You warned.  His eye's went wide almost surprised by the sound of your voice.

"Hah... Bucks got you trained good" Steve lightly laughed. "Come have a seat."

You blinked at him as he craned his neck to admire the look of distress. Bucky was not one for sharing and you doubted he would be thrilled to see you naked and straddling Steve in his favorite chair.  

When you didn’t move Steve’s warm hands pulled you down, your knees folded at his sides. On the descent you gasped, your eyes wide with panic and confusion. His playful grin fueled by your dismay. The chair wined at the added weight and you were sure it would break from the way you struggled to escape it.

Steve's arms wrapped and rested around your hips, pulling you close, making your movements hard. Your legs were tucked and  pinned at his side, your frantic movements rousing something that made you shutter when you felt it. With what little space you could manage, your arms moved up to wrap around your chest in an effort to cover yourself and make a buffer.

🏢

"You know you were always my favorite." He spoke calmly while your whole body shook in fear. It was a nerves shake that Steve had witnessed many a times and from the glint in his eyes you knew he enjoyed it.

"So creative in your escapes, but just too sloppy at covering your tracks" he t'sked while the hiccups and tears intensified. Steve rocked you back and forth gently in his lap. The fabric of Steve's pants rubbed against your mound, the length of his cock pressed desperately against his zipper and he made sure you felt every inch.

"Remember that time you set the penthouse on fire. Good trick getting the firemen to get you out". He chuckled completely unbothered by your distress. Smiling up at you brightly as if he were talking to an old friend. His walk down memory lane was not as fondly remembered as yours.

"At the diner I was sure he would've flipped out when he saw you, but I guess he was just to preoccupied to notice." Steve gave you a playful wiggle of his brow. As he talked you bit back shame. The incessant movement stimulated your clit, you could feel a wetness growing at it was only a matter of time before he noticed it too.

"The new girl learned her lesson far too quickly for me. I let her take off once just for fun... Then she never did it again."

"He has someone new right? He doesn't need me." Your were a sniffling mess. You knew Steve long enough that your tears meant nothing to him, but that didn't stop you from pleading.

"Oh sweetie if you didn't know by now he didn't let you go."

Your mind was swirling. Steve orchestrated it all just to have 'fun'.

🏢

"I want you to look up." He requested and you looked at him confused. "Over there in the left corner." He nudged his head and your eyes looked in the direction.

Your heart sank to the floor. There was a camera, one you never noticed before. You felt sick. Was Bucky watching you? The optics of this situation you could only imagine.

As far as Bucky was concerned you had ran out on him and Steve was just doing his job bringing you back.

From that angle it would look like you walked in, stripped and got on top of him. That you were fucking him in Bucky's chair. Steve's eyes lit up as you put all the pieces together.

"I fucking hate you" You said softly. Your chin fell to your chest as you continued to bawl.

"Oh Sweetie I don't care. I can only imagine the look on his face right now." Steve ducked his head down to look you in the eye, confirming Bucky was indeed watching.

Taking your wrist he moved them behind your back, bonding them effortlessly with one hand. Steve was hell bent on making your bad situation worse. You needed to get free and get out.

Steve's head moved to nestle your breast, you tried to lift off your knees, but his thighs kept you trapped in the chair. You attempted to jerk your wrists free of his hold, but Steve only held tighter.

Steve wasn't afraid of reprisals from his boss. They had been friends from childhood, at most he would get a slap on the back if the head. While you shuddered to think of what he would do to you.

"Don’t worry we have time to play" he teased. You felt Steve's hot breath on your breast as he talked. When he licked and sucked at your nipple, taking it in-between his teeth, flicking his tongue on it you felt your arousal grow.

"Please Steve..stop" you panted out as heat rose throughout your neck. You felt his mouth smirk swirled around your nipple, his face nuzzled in your chest, inhaling deeply on yours skin as you rocked in his lap.

The chair groaning protests increased and you prayed that it would break, giving you a chance to be free. When your hands were suddenly released you pushed at his chest hard, surprisingly he fell back with a chuckle.

"Why can't you just let me go?" You slapped at his chest as Steve rose to his feet. The weight of your ass rested in his palms as you tried to force yourself down and out of his hold. You yelped when Steve pinched your ass hard, the sting a warning to stop. Though your movements didn't cause his hold to waver, it was as if you weighed nothing.

🏢

Steve liked you. He was normally indifferent to the women that Bucky would bring home, but you were different. He loved the way you cried for mercy then begged to cum. The shame in your eyes when he watched you submit.

Bucky had a habit of replacing his toys. So Steve waited patiently for Bucky to tire of you, but a man could only wait so long.

"How many times had you wished it were me?" He changed the subject. Gone was his playful smile, his face stoic and unreadable just like Bucky's.

"I saw how you looked at me... wanting my cock inside of you... What would Bucky think if he knew"  Steve purred.

You hadn't wanted Steve or any of this. It was just that his eyes were just that inescapable. Bucky's second set of eyes. Always through a cracked door, from the corner of a room, reflecting back at you from a mirror. His eyes haunted your sleep just as much as Bucky's did.

He turned slightly to open the door behind you. Once it opened you knew the room you were in, Bucky's bedroom. You had shared it with him, but nothing in it belonged to you. You were nothing more than a dog that was made to come happily whenever he called.

When Steve tossed you on the bed you bounced. You watched, frozen while he stripped at the foot of the bed.

🏢

His mouth moved, but if he was speaking you couldn't hear it. The pounding of your heart was so loud in your ears that you couldn't make out whatever he was saying.

Each step he took you pushed back on your hands, scooting backwards on the bed to get away. Your elbow hit the head board as he unhooked his belt and unfastened his pants.

The bed dipped as he placed a hand on it, you watched and time seemed to slow when he stretched out to snag your ankle. You took the bed covering with you when you clutched it as you twisted and turned to pull yourself out of his grip.

With one hard yank you laid flat out on your stomach. Steve couldn't help licking his lips at the sight of your ass jiggling as he played with you. When he let go you stumbled over yourself, pressing your back flush once again to the head board.

🏢

Bending over he dug something out of his discarded clothes. Standing straight you watched as he played with his phone. Steve tossed the device to you and you blinked at it wildly. "Bucky’s across town with his new girl. It would take a few hours to get here." You picked it up as he talked. You knew the spot on the map, the red indicator blinking Bucky's location.

"Tell you what. I will let you go. If you give me what I want and I won't come after you again." He offered. Flopping on the bed Steve's back faced you. It was a trap you knew it, but some semblance of hope still lived in you, so you sat quietly and listened.

"Or I can take what I want and then stand by when Bucky comes back." He laid out on top of the bed with his hands laced behind his head. Gripping the phone you contemplated quickly dialing the police, but you were sure they would never make it in time. And if they did by some miracle come, you couldn't guarantee they wouldn't be dirty anyway.

Swallowing thickly you placed the phone faced down on the mattress. Steve tilted his head and observed you, smiling at you expectantly when you started to move.

You tried to reason with yourself as you approached him. You prayed that he would indeed keep his side of the deal.

Steve unlaced his fingers as you rounded him and you felt your skin prickle all over again. The bed didn't make a sound as you haltingly swung your leg over his waist.

Your hands shook as you placed them on his bear chest. Despite the heat coming from Steve your shaking remained. Your stomach tensed when Steve's fingers trailed up your thigh and rested on your hips.

Holding you, Steve lowered you down, flicking his cock back and forth with one hand to align himself to your entrance. His tip played with your folds, the prodding brought a slickness from your core.

🏢

Steve loved the way you cried. The sight of your puffy face whenever you begged and pleaded.  He loved that despite all the fear there was a fire that wouldn't die no matter how hard his buddy tried to stomp it out.

"You mad things fun around here." Steve's tone lowered to a husky growl. His eyes turned their focus from your face to your breast as the feeling of utter defeat washed over you.

His cock pressed threateningly against your lips as your palms rested on his bare chest. Steve kept you paused in position, your thighs burned while you hovered in place. the trembling not unnoticed by Steve. Moving from his cock the one hand traveled upward, gently ghosting over your hip as it crept up your frame.

Bucky despite his distance stayed at the edge of your mind. You looked around the empty room, jumping at every odd noise. The paranoia in your eyes made Steve painfully hard, but he controlled himself as he explored you.

Steve's large hand encompassed your breast as he palmed it. Gliding his thumb over your hard nipple the soft fatty flesh bounced in his hand when you inhales sharply.

A very sensitive area he noted. He wanted to know every inch of you, what made you squirm, but that would have to wait until another time.

It made his cock twitch just thinking about it.

🏢

With one quick motion he forced you down. The plunge sent jolts deep. Your cervix ached with fullness as your stomach tensed and strained to adjust to him. Mewling through gritted teeth you sheathed him completely.

"Did Bucky fill you up this good?" He growled. Steve felt your cunt hug him tightly, the feel made him twitch inside of you. You grunted when Steve bucked his hips at your lack of reply. His cock strained against your core, you hadn't noticed your nails had dug into his chest. When he bucked again he let out a long drawn out his as your nails dragged against his flesh. The thin lines on his skin leaving a stinging reminder of you.

"No!" you sputtered out much to Steve's pleasure.

"Good girl" Steve praised.

You gasped out when he finally allowed you to rise up, but before you could relax he forced you back down again. Steve muscles flexed under your hands. His deep grunts growing in volume as he resisted the urge to flip you over and rail into you deeper.

"That's it, that's a good girl" he grunted. Steve controlled the momentum. Every downward motion sending jolts to your core. You rocked into him, his voice humming as your pussy clenched around him. "Who do you belong to?" He demanded, making sure to throw his hips hard with each syllable.

"Steve Fuck!" You let out a sharp gasp at the feel of the head of his cock hitting your ceiling. Steve sucked in his bottom lip slowly letting it drag out again, the way you grabbed made him groan with delight. The feel and sound of you struggling made him almost come right there.

Unlike Bucky, Steve was different. You could never read Bucky, every wrong move you made in his game was met with swift reprisals. While Steve read of an unabashed wild eagerness.

"Such a dirty whore just for me" He beamed as you bounced atop of him. His blonde tresses stuck messily to his glistening forehead. Your shamed dissolved into pleasure as your ass slapped against Steve.

The feel of him overwhelmed your senses. Your pussy squeezed, your climax barreling through you like a freight train.

"You know better than that." Steve swatted hard on your side. The sting still there as you forced back your need.

You choked down what was left of your shame and begged him. You needed to cum, the tight coil in your core threatened to burst.  

"Please.." You rasped out, looking away unable to face him. Steve reveled in your pathetic attempted to hide away from him. He felt you, there was no denying what you hungered for.

"please. ..Steve.. " you panted out. The sound of your sloppy sex and punishing manipulation was splintering in your womb.

"I need to come" You mewled.

Steve shot up, his massive arms wrapped around you, clutching your shoulders he shoved himself deep inside.

"Come on my cock" he commanded. Holding you down tight as he pumped his seed into you.

Your cunt milking out ever last drop as you both breathed heavily.

"Hey Buck... welcome home." Over your shoulder he stared deep into the eyes of Bucky as he coated your walls.

🏢

<<< Elevator

[rosaliepostsstuff]

A bit emotional || G.W.

pairing: George Weasley x reader; brother-in-law!Fred x reader

summary: Emotions have been getting the best of Y/N lately and while George is away on a work trip, Fred helps her discover something.

word count: 2437

warnings: mentions of urine, mentions of food, pregnancy, brief mention of sex, talk of biological parenting

tags: @izzyyy-1��� ; @amourtentiaa​ ; @hufflepuff5972​ ; @pandaxnienke​ ; @wheezyweasleys​ ; @harrysweasleys ; @ickle-ronniekins​ ; @starlightweasley​ ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss​

Feedback means the world to me!!

It was early afternoon on a Saturday, you found yourself in the bathroom of your flat above the shop. You had been ready to take action – your hair up, comfy clothes on, sleeves rolled up. Cleaning the bathroom was your duty – part of the agreement the three of you made when you moved in with George and Fred a couple of years before – when you and George had gotten married. The three of you shared the house chores according to what each of you disliked the least and it worked. Well, usually.

The whole bathroom was an absolute mess. You had cleaned it thoroughly the week before, as usual. There were splash stains all over the mirror. You swore you could smell urine in the air the whole time, which later confirmed not to be a figment of your imagination – the floor around the toilet was covered with tiny dots of dried stains, accumulating every time those two went to pee, due to their heights. You looked at the hamper, the lid wasn’t closed properly, a pair of boxers hanging on its edge.

“Fred!! George!!” you shouted out. They knew you well, and they knew better than to test your patience when you used that tone and volume. Without a word, you heard one chair move in your living room, then someone got up from the couch a second later. They stepped through the small hallway carefully and peaked their heads through the bathroom doorway.

“Whose are those?” you asked flatly, pointing at the boxers, then turned to them and placed one hand on your hip.

“Mine,” Fred answered after a glance.

“Is it that hard to put them in properly?” you questioned as soon as he finished.

Fred bit his tongue, suppressing a comeback. He walked over to the hamper and fixed it.

“And who used the toiled last?” you continued, pointing at the open toilet lid with a nod and folded your arms on your chest.

George avoided your gaze, walking over to the toiled to close the lid.

 The bathroom situation didn’t stay long on your mind, though, nor did it affect the atmosphere in your shared flat. In the two weeks that followed, however, similar, smaller situations happened. For example, when it was Fred’s turn to cook, he added too much salt for your liking, but the way he likes his food – again.

“You know well that you can add some more salt on your plate, but I can’t make it less salty, can I?!” you complained.

A week later, George had to leave for a work trip. It was his turn, while Fred stayed at home to keep an eye on the shop.

You dreaded the day he was supposed to leave and you tried not to let it show. You cursed yourself as you wiped fresh tears with your sleeve, looking at George who was checking if he took everything before saying goodbye. You were angry with yourself at getting so upset – this wasn’t the first time you’d been apart, and it was only 4 days. You were married, but not tied up together, you were still separate people. Sure, you always missed each other, but you never got this dramatic.

“Heey, baby, what’s up..?” George asked after looking up from his bag, noticing your tears. He closed the distance between the two of you in a few long steps and wiped your tears with his thumbs as you wrapped your arms around his middle automatically.

“It’s- it’s nothing…” you still tried to stop more tears from coming and pressed your face to his chest as he embraced you tightly. “I’ll just miss you, you know…” you tried to sound casual.

“I’ll miss you too, darling,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His tone was sincere but slightly puzzled, he wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction. “It’s just 4 days and then I’ll be back,” he told you softly.

You cherished his embrace for a little bit longer before you said your goodbyes and let him apparate.

The first day and a half passed somewhat peacefully. You tried to focus on your own work and then find something to occupy yourself with once you were back at home. At least you weren’t completely alone – one could never feel alone with Fred around.

I was mid-afternoon, you had both just come back from work. You were stood in the kitchen, looking into the fridge without much interest. Fred was fixing some kind of sandwich for himself. You closed the fridge door then looked over at the mysterious mixture he poured over the sandwich and scrunched your nose up in disgust.

“Are you gonna eat that?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Smells disgusting, I’m getting nauseous…” you said, turning your back to him to put the kettle on.

“I dunno, smells good to me,” he stated simply, licking some of it off his finger and after a few seconds added “maybe you’re just pregnant.”

And then it hit you. How could you not think of it? How is it that when you’re trying not to get pregnant, the smallest things can seem like pregnancy symptoms to you, but now, you had missed all of them?

George and you had stopped using birth control about a month ago. You weren’t necessarily trying for a baby – you wanted one, sure, and figured the time was right. But both of you believed it would just happen sooner or later while you continue with your usual sex routine. You didn’t want to get too hung up on this and end up like some other couples you’ve heard of. For it to happen during your next cycle, however?

Fred turned to you, confused, after not hearing you get back at him for that joke. You turned around to look at him with a calm expression.

“You know, I might be,” you said seriously, trying not to freak out.

Fred’s eyebrows shot up immediately, his eyes open wide and he started nodding slowly, processing the information.

 You walked out of the bathroom to see Fred leaning against the wall, biting his lip. He looked at you right away expectantly. You walked next to him and slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

“5 minutes,” you told him, and he followed after you, sitting down.

“Did you… do you want to..?” he trailed off and you looked up at him. “What do you want it to say?”

“Oh,” you looked back down at your hands. “Both is fine, I guess. I mean, we were kind of trying. Pretty stupid of me to not add 2 and 2 together earlier…” you bit your bottom lip.

Fred nodded and put his arm around your shoulder, then glanced at the watch on his hand and took a deep breath.

 “Positive,” you said to Fred, who didn’t know the meaning of the two lines. “All three,” you added, placing the last stick back down.

Your eyes started watering and with a smile, you looked up at Fred, who was judging your reaction. You threw yourself at him, hugging him tightly. “I’m pregnant!”

“I’m gonna be an uncle!!” he exclaimed with a chuckle, lifting you up in a hug.

“Hang out with me tonight?” you asked after he placed you down. You had a feeling nothing would occupy you tonight, nothing else would keep your mind off of the fact that you were pregnant and were not able to tell your husband yet.

“You know you’re my favourite brother-in-law, right?” you smiled at him charmingly and chuckled, the remnants of your happy tears still making your eyes shine.

“I’ll believe you when you say that again, in front of Bill.”

 “So, what now?” Fred questioned, well into the evening, as the two of you were lounging in the living room. “Will you move out?”

“You’ve been waiting for that, weren’t you?” you laughed.

“As long as you keep sending me your baked goodies,” he quipped back.

“I mean, I guess. We’ll probably stay here a bit longer, we still have like eight months to go?” you said, placing a hand on your lower abdomen. “We’ll start looking for a house, the flat isn’t big enough to raise a baby,” you started counting. “You’d want us out of here after a few nights of the baby crying anyway and we were bound to move out someday.” You let your head fall back onto the rest, absentmindedly running your hand over your belly. “… find our own, family home,” you added.

“Mhm…” he hummed, sipping his tea.

“I’ll miss you, Fred,” you blurted out and felt tears coming up to your eyes.

No matter how many times Fred peeved you, he was a great friend, an amazing flatmate you’d never be bored with, and the best brother in law. And it was true, you’d miss sharing your daily life with him, bumping into him in the kitchen at 3 am on your way to grab some water.

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. His nature told him to tease you, but he knew you were being genuine. And he’d miss you too. He couldn’t have hoped for a better wife for his brother.

 You were restless from the moment you woke up, on the day George was supposed to come back. Your day at work seemed incredibly long and when you got back home, every sound seemed like George apparating inside.

You sat down on the couch, trying to read a book, but ended up reading the same page over and over again. You still didn’t know what you had read and your knee kept bouncing up and down.

Finally, ‘POP!’, you heard that sound and shut your book without marking the page and threw it onto the coffee table.

“Y/N, I’m home, darling,” George called out, placing his bags down in the hall. You met him at the entrance to the living room and jumped into his arms with excitement.

You breathed in his familiar smell and tightened your arms around his shoulders, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“Good to have you back,” you mumbled into the fabric of his sweater and pulled back a bit to look at him.

“Good to be back,” he replied with a chuckle, looking at you adoringly before placing a sweet kiss onto your lips.

“Let’s sit down,” you told him after pulling away, dragging him to the couch by the hand before he could continue to pepper your face with kisses.

The moment you sat down, George was suspicious of you. You weren’t acting that weird but something was off.

You, on the other hand, suddenly felt nervous. For 48 hours you couldn’t wait to tell him, but now you didn’t know how.

“What’s up, love?” he asked you, shifting closer and squeezing your hand in his and placing his other on your thigh comfortingly.

“I have something to tell you,” you looked up at him, his eyes expectant. And you felt so lucky.

You looked into the eyes of the man you loved. The man who loved you. It felt like looking into his eyes when you were standing at the wedding arch, about to become united for eternity to come. You were reminded of all the love you shared, all the moments from your past that led you to where you were and it felt so right.

Just as you started to feel the lump in your throat again and your eyes getting wet, you were pulled out of your thoughts by the confusion and slight concern growing on George’s face.

“I’m pregnant,” you said before he could ask what was going on.

His grasp on your hand and thigh loosened momentarily as initial shock washed over him, you could almost see the information being processed in his eyes. And when it did, a huge smile broke on his face, but you didn’t get to see it for long before he pulled you into a tight hug.

“We’re having a baby,” he mumbled into your shoulder after a moment, then pulled away just enough to be able to bring your lips together. The kiss was passionate and full of emotion, there wasn’t much tenderness to it. You stopped when both of you were grinning too much to call it a kiss.

George pulled you down to lie on the couch with him, with a content sigh. You giggled, snuggling closer to him.

“You’re pregnant,” he said again, familiarizing himself with it. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he added, looking at you.

“You are,” you confirmed with a dopey smile.

“We’re gonna have a baby, that is so…” he looked up at the ceiling, starting his contemplations.

“You and I are going to have a child, that is crazy to think about. D’you know what I mean? Obviously, I’ve always wanted children with you and I knew how- parenting- worked, but- before it was a reality I didn’t think about it this way. I’m going to be the father of your baby. You’re going to have my baby. This baby is going to be equally mine as it’s going to be yours- and-“ he paused to take a deep breath, “-when you think about how it happened…”

You both chuckled at his existential thoughts and what they ultimately came down to. Though, you couldn’t help but agree with his rambles.

“So how..?” George started a question, bringing one of his hands to your lower abdomen.

“Oh, you know how I was acting weird lately. Fred then made some stupid comment and it just clicked in my head, I did a few muggle pregnancy test to make sure.”

You were quiet for a bit, enjoying each other’s embrace as George continued stroking your belly delicately.

“Y/N… do you-… do you think I’ll do alright?” he asked quietly. “As a dad..? I mean, I’m hardly responsible for myself…”

You looked up at him then brought your hand to stroke his cheek reassuringly and make him look at you, hoping to convey your message in the look of your eyes.

“You’re going to be a wonderful dad, the best one. And you are responsible, you test the boundaries often but with things that really matter – you’re one of the most responsible people I know, love. I would trust you with my life, with everything. And I couldn’t imagine a better dad for my children.” You kissed his cheek and he brought your body even closer to him, tearing up a bit himself.

“Can’t wait,” you added in a whisper into the skin of his neck.

[phantomato]

Nottmort and 12!!

Tom Riddle/Nott Sr., 1.4k, prompt #12: Grabbing their shoulder to stop them from doing something they would regret.

“Come study with me,” he said, and you stopped.

“The library’s empty this time at night.” Thoros Nott invited you casually, as though this was something he’d done every day for the past four years.

“It’s never too early for a revision schedule, OWL year and all.” 

It was only September, you supposed. Sniffing out the Chamber could wait an extra day; you had never had a willing study partner before.

—

“Tom!”

Thoros grabbed your arm for just a second, a light pull to spin you around.

“I’m headed into an extra potions practical today, if you want to join? Professor Slughorn said he could use a couple of volunteers for the third-year sections, and you know boil cures will be on the exams.” He looked hopeful, like a mutt sitting outside the Wool’s scullery at dinnertime.

You hesitated. There was a hint in an architectural study of the castle that pointed towards the pipes, and there were many more toilets left to check. The girls’ loos were hardest to get into, so you did those during class hours, when people weren’t in them.

“That is,” Thoros said, beginning to turn away, “if you aren’t busy with prefect duties, or wouldn’t prefer your study hall to yourself, or—sorry for assuming.”

“No, I,” your list of castle loos could wait, “I would be interested. It is going to be on the exams.”

Supervising boil-cure brewing was probably more fun than sticking your arm down every u-bend in the castle, anyway.

—

“Hey.”

You didn’t need to hear the voice this time, because Thoros was the only one of your peers who sought you out. When someone else wanted a favor from you, they waited until a shared class, or until you passed through the common room. You were a prefect. You were always around.

He touched you, out in the hall after supper, as underclassmen streamed past to get to their dorms before curfew. He touched your hand, just the back of it, skin to skin.

“What do you want, Nott?” you asked, which was harsher than he merited. You revised with him every Thursday night. You could have called him Thoros.

“Tetchy mood, Riddle?” he shot back, crossing his arms, taking his hand off of yours.

That only furthered your upset. “I have responsibilities, Thoros.” It was a concession, half apology, but not a good one. Too little and too late. “I can’t jump to everything you ask.”

He stayed silent, glaring down at you, and your shiny gold prefect badge meant nothing in the face of that.

You were angry. You lashed out. “Don’t you have friends?”

“Well.” Thoros stepped away, taking with him whatever offer he might have extended. “I suppose I will ask Carol.”

“You do that,” you told him.

There was a signed pass for the restricted section of the library in your bag, and a night of reading available to you. Thoros Nott could go hang, for all you cared.

Except he could have shouted a little, perhaps, made a scene of being turned down. You hated that he had to be so well-behaved. From most of your other classmates, you would have expected outrage and defensive snobbery, disownment of your acquaintanceship and some rudeness about how it was all charity. 

Thoros left you to sulk.

—

“Hello,” you said, dropping your bag on the library table and letting your knee swing into his as you sat down. “Want to revise for transfigs? Dumbledore cut short our theory lesson this week because half the class still didn’t get the practical, and I think the theory might show up on the written part of the exams.”

You held your breath. Thoros hadn’t spoken to you since your fit in the hall this week, and you weren’t sure that he would play along now, even if Thursdays were your usual.

However.

He stuck his quill into its stand and pulled the transfiguration textbook from the pile by his arm.

“I could do that.”

He placed a fresh sheet of parchment on the table and picked his quill up again.

“But I prefer to revise with friends.”

The choices sprawled out before you, two paths winding into the mists: commit to friendship and bind yourself through social obligation, or stick to independence and isolation.

You nudged Thoros with your knee, leg pressed to leg, with as casual an affect as you could manage. 

“I’m sorry about the other night.”

Thoros sighed. “Tell me you aren’t interested. You don’t have to be mean, Tom. I’m not going to be offended.”

“Right, then. I’ll keep it in mind. So, for transfigs…”

—

There was a pipe big enough to pass an auto through in the girls’ loo on the second floor. There was a beast down there that needed nearly all of that room. There was a decision to be made about the best way to claim a family legacy and cement yourself as something more than—

“Tom Riddle!”

Thoros called your name, waving his hand in excitement, as soon as he saw you across the great hall. “Tom, did you get my owl? Do you like the scarf? I wasn’t sure if you like dark or milk chocolate better, but I hope the toffee box was all right. How were your hols?”

He dragged Carol and Druella Rosier with him. The twins waved a short hello to you before they got back to their bickering, leaving Thoros to pepper you with questions and fill you in on the details of his Christmas (stodgy) and New Year’s (fell asleep by eleven). 

At night, Thoros turned on his side in his bed to look across the way at you.

“It was nice to see my parents for a little while, and of course I didn’t miss having homework, but—I missed seeing friends every day.”

With his nighttime confession complete, he went to sleep.

—

“Thor.”

You tried out the name on your tongue, the shortening you had heard from his other friends—other, because you were one as well, among the number of people to call Thoros a friend—and you wanted to know if it fit.

He spun in his seat to face you, smiling. He bumped his shoulder against yours.

“There’s fresh snow on the grounds,” you said, pretending like it meant nothing at all. “Want to give it a look when class lets out?”

There were no pipes or beasts out on the grounds. No ancestor of yours left a secret to be found by skating on a frozen lake.

“If you shove snow down my cloak, I’ll be very cross,” Thoros warned, pretending like he had to consider the choice.

You huffed in mock upset. “I wouldn’t murder my study partner; I’ve got a dozen OWLs to revise for.”

“Then I suppose, if you’re promising my safety, I could find the time.”

His words were those of obligation, but his tone, and his face, were that of joyful acceptance.

—

You finished your courses. You took your exams. You left the beast where you found her.

—

“Why’d you start asking me to study?”

Your question arrived on the train, sitting with your side pressed to Thor. London was where you would be parted and it seemed more important than ever to be close, ahead of a summer without his hand pulling your attention to this or that. Perhaps you could absorb his knack for well-timed distraction.

“I don’t know,” he replied, though he was lying.

“Thor,” you said. The short form worked wonders. He crumbled under it every time you pleaded, drawing out the ‘r’ in his name.

“Well, you seemed glum.”

He shifted in his seat, but as your weight pressed him against the window, this only served to squish him further. “Glum,” you repeated, like that might make sense of the idea.

“Do you prefer ‘melancholy’? This is why I didn’t want to say,” he complained. “I thought you might do better with company.”

“Company,” you repeated again, having settled on your strategy for this conversation.

“A friend.”

There was another version of your year without this friend, where you found your beast earlier, where you spent more time alone down there, where you kept company with legacy and not the living.

You put your chin against Thor’s shoulder. You looked at him; you looked at the countryside drifting by behind him. 

“You weren’t wrong.”

[acciowests]

19 with elorcan?

i had so much fun with this, two-year-old cal has my whole heart, he's so adorable

Bubbles and Baked Goods

WORD COUNT: 1707

PROMPT: Little one needing an emergency bath.

"There he goes again," chuckled Elide, her hand cupped over Lorcan's where it rested on her very pregnant stomach.

They'd just put Cal down for his nap, the toddler tucked up in his bedroom whilst he and Elide had some alone time downstairs. Nowadays, alone time just meant being in each other's company without their two-year-old climbing all over them. Lorcan had put on the new episode of their favourite show, letting his wife curl against him. With her bulging stomach, she could hardly get comfortable, but in his lap with her head on his shoulder, she was finally able to settle. Now, his hands were rested on her stomach, feeling the seven-month-old babe kicking and squirming inside her.

"He's moving so much more than Cal ever did," Lorcan commented, hand circling Elide's tummy.

She nodded in agreement, shuffling a little so her back was to his chest, "I'd be happy about that except his most active time is night-time… No wonder I'm so tired."

He let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to her hair, "I know, I'm sorry baby. Not long until he's here though... but we won't be getting much sleep then either."

She hummed, shifting forward until she was off him completely, going to stand and stretching awkwardly on her feet, "Speaking of, that son of yours is being eerily quiet. It's been an hour so he should have woken up like fifteen minutes ago."

He reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her back toward him, "Five more minutes, babe. C'mon, I'll even give you a foot massage, you did say your ankle's been playing up again."

"As tempting as that sounds," she sighed, pulling from his grip and making her way to the stairs, "I'd rather go collect Cal than wait for him to start crying for us. You know how much he hates being stuck in his cot once he wakes up."

He watched her go, one hand on the stair railing and the other cupping her back. He'd definitely have to give her a massage later once Cal had gone to bed, maybe if they were lucky they could have some actual alone time too. Reaching for the control, he skipped through the channels, knowing that Cal would probably want Paw Patrol on but putting on the sports channel just in case. He was somewhat immersed in the ice hockey game when Elide's voice came, echoing down the stairs.

"Lorcan!" she called, "Lor, quick!"

He had never moved so quickly, taking two stairs at a time as he rushed toward his son's room. When he entered, pushing open the door, he first noticed Elide. She was sat on the floor, away from Cal's crib and was looking down at something. A giggle erupted from the corner and he followed the sound, finding Cal where he sat happily before Elide. Only, it was clear she hadn't put him there, hadn't even collected him from his cot. His little two-year-old baby boy had managed to climb down from his crib and emptied the art cabinet. Now, he had covered himself in the paints they had been playing with before his nap, yellow pigment spread across his cheeks, his hands smothered in red and blue that appeared in prints across his arms, legs, and clothes. Luckily, the cream carpet had been rescued, Cal sitting on his blue rug and not having ventured yet to painting the walls.

He clapped, paint splattering like freckles over him, "Dada, look, paint!"

Letting out a sigh, he collapsed down next to Elide, "Right, yeah, I see that, buddy."

Cal giggled again and Elide pressed her head to Lorcan's shoulder in defeat as their son only made more mess. He picked up a paintbrush before decisively dipping it into the yellow paint that, luckily, was beginning to dry up. "Mama," he started, waving the brush toward her, "Paint Mama's belly yellow like the sun!"

She could only laugh, smiling at her little boy and making Lorcan's heart leap, "That sounds like a great idea, bud. But, could we do that tomorrow? Mommy would really like to clean you up in the bath right now."

Cal frowned, his little lip pouting and Lorcan swept in, knowing that while he would love to play with their son, painting in the bedroom wasn't quite the best idea, "We can play with bubbles and Mr Quackers, and you can even have some cookies when you get out."

He perked up at that, "Cookies and milk?"

Lorcan nodded, unable to hide his grin, "Cookies and milk, promise. Now, why don't you let mommy undress you while I go fill the tub, is that okay?"

Cal nodded, dropping his paintbrush and moving over to Elide, lifting his hands so she could remove his shirt. She chuckled, shaking her head at them both as Lorcan pressed a kiss to her head and disappeared down the hall, telling her to shout if she needed anything. He prepared the bath, warm but not too warm, filling it with all of Cal's toys and adding in the bubbles. It still felt like yesterday when they were giving him his first bath as a newborn. He didn't know where all the time had gone.

He turned to look over his shoulder as the door creaked open, Elide stood with Cal on her hip, all ready for his bath. "There are my three favourite people," he beamed, jaw aching with the weight of his smile as Cal put his hand on his mother's bump, leaning into her affectionately.

Elide waddled over, setting Cal down on the edge of the bath so he could dip his chubby hand in, "Is the temperature okay, bud? Warm enough?"

Cal nodded, swinging his legs around and gripping Lorcan's arm as he stepped into the bath. While Lorcan remained leaning over the side, ready to lift Cal if he slipped or assist him when he was soaked and ready to be cleaned, Elide sat atop of the toilet, seat down as she lent back, hands on her tummy as she watched her boys. Cal splashed happily, toys in hand as he sat at the bottom of the tub, the soapy water coming up to the middle of his chest. Lorcan moved forward, taking the jug from the side of the bath and filling it with the warm water.

"Daddy's just going to pour this over your arms okay?" he explained, smiling at his son as Cal held his arms out, Lorcan using one hand to pour and the other to rub gently.

"Look, Dada!" he squealed, flapping his arms in the water as the paint slowly washed off, "A rainbow in the water!"

Where the paint had merged, there was indeed a questionable mix of colour in the bubbles. Lorcan just smiled, continuing to pour and using a cloth to rub the last of the paint that had completely dried against his arms, "I know, super cool, right? Let me just get the rest off, bubs, then you can play."

With his other hand, he was already putting his rubber duck in the paint infested waters. Kicking out his feet and splashing Lorcan in the process. When it came to bathing, it was very rare that he or Elide didn't get wet, so he just sighed, continuing until his arms were clean and allowing him a minute to play. "Don't forget his face," commented Elide from where she sat across the room, "and rinse his hair, just in case."

He nodded, already refilling the jug with fresh water, away from the mess that Cal was currently sitting in. They'd have to rinse him quickly in the shower afterwards. As he leant over, rinsing the cloth and maneuvering Cal so he was sat facing him rather than to the side, he began rubbing it gently over his cheeks, not wanting it to be rough and irritate the sensitive skin.

"Is that okay, buddy? The cloth isn't too rough is it?" asked Elide, trying to shuffle closer while still sitting and wanting to assist in any way she could. Lorcan knew if it weren't for her swollen stomach and aching back, she would be down here, kneeling and leaning and playing with their adorably messy toddler.

"It's okay, Mama," he replied, eyes shut as Lorcan went over the paint that had somehow gotten in his eyebrows. Lorcan couldn't help but chuckle, rinsing the cloth one more time and brushing it over his skin just to make sure everything was gone.

"Okay bud, you can open your eyes. I'm just gonna wash your hair quickly and then we can rinse you off and you can have your cookies and milk." Lorcan passed Cal's towel to Elide, her standing and getting ready as Lorcan switched on the shower, using the head to wash Cal's hair and then getting him to stand as the bathwater drained, washing down any remnants of the paint and bubbles from his body until he was stood all fresh and clean.

"Alrighty," Elide beamed, coming in and sweeping up Cal, wrapping the towel around him and pressing kisses to his cheek, "My handsome baby."

Cal giggled, pressing his head into Elide's neck and allowing her to rub his back and run her hands through his hair. She swayed on the spot, rubbing the towel gently over Cal's skin and drying him off as she waited for Lorcan. He hung the cloths on the side of the bath, letting them dry off, putting all of Cal's toys in their basket and rinsing the bath quickly with the showerhead, making sure all the paint had gone down the drain with the rest of the water. When he was ready, he turned back, slipping his arm around Elide's waist and pressing a kiss to Cal's temple, winking at his son as he turned with a smile to his father, reaching his arms out. Lorcan took Cal, resting him on his hip and wrapping the towel tightly around him, making sure he didn't get cold. Taking Elide's hand, the three—technically four—of them made their way back to Cal's bedroom, ready to dress him, clean up what was left of the paints, and collect his much-deserved cookies and milk.

* * *

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[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

The Distance Between Us: 02. Welcome to Dauntless

Summary: Alexandria Eaton is the youngest child of Marcus Eaton. What will happen when she defects from Abnegation and decides to follow in her older brother’s footsteps. Can she make it through Dauntless initiation with her secret or will she find herself in the factionless? And what will happen when the most cold-hearted leader takes an interest in her?

Post Date: 05.13.21

Word count: 2.3k

Pairing: Eric Coulter x OC

Masterlist

DBU Masterlist

Once the choosing ceremony was over, I was relieved knowing that I don’t have to see my father ever again. We started to leave the auditorium, I tried to avoid eye contact with my father knowing that he was disappointed in me, but somehow we made eye contact and I could see the menacing look on his face. Finally, we were back outside and the next thing I know the Dauntless-born start running. Beatrice and I followed closely behind trying to keep up. The next thing we noticed was them climbing up the supports of the train tracks. Beatrice and I stop below the train tracks to catch our breaths, we smile and look at each other before we start to climb along with the others.

When we made it up I felt like I was on top of the world. I was taking in the newfound freedom I had when a felt a rush of wind pass by me in the form of a train. I notice the transfers and Dauntless-born running and jumping on the train. I tap on Beatrice's shoulder to get her attention and we start to run towards the train. It takes a bit before we were able to make it on. I was the first and then I stuck my hand out to help Beatrice. I accidentally pull her into someone sitting on the floor of the train. I notice that we just barely make it into the last compartment as I see the platform we were running on, disappear. 

“You guys made it, I’m Christina,” a girl in white clothing said to us out of breath. She must have been Candor before she switched. 

“I’m Beatrice and this is Alexandria,” Beatrice says out of breath as well, pointing towards me. 

“Is it just me or are they trying to kill us?” I say to both of them. 

While we wait until we get to our destination, Beatrice, Christina, and I spend some time getting to know each other. “Beatrice and I used to climb onto the roofs of our houses back in Abnegation. I guess it only made sense for us to transfer here. You?” I say in response to Christina’s question about why we transferred.

“I just didn’t really want to stay in Candor. Plus the Dauntless lifestyle really spoke to me” she responds. 

“Get ready” we hear a woman say from the other side of the train. 

I moved from my spot to the opening of the train to see what was going on, Beatrice following me close behind. “They’re jumping,” she says, turning to Christina.

“What?!” Christina exclaims coming over to see. We watch as everyone else jumps from the compartments in front of us. Some barely make the gap between the building and the train while others have no problem. 

“Together?” I say looking at Beatrice and Christina. They both respond simultaneously. I move to the opening next to the one Beatrice and Christina are in and we all move to the other side of the train to allow us enough running space. 

“One, two, three,” we say together running on three. The next thing I know I’m rolling on top of the rocks of the roof, causing my body to tense up from the pain, but it doesn’t even bother me knowing that we all made it. I look at Beatrice and Christina as we all get up, laughing together at the insanity that Dauntless has put us through in less than an hour.

“Alright, listen up. I’m Eric. I’m one of your leaders. If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in. And if you don’t have the guts to jump, then you don’t belong in Dauntless,” I see a tall yet attractive blonde man say, standing on the edge of the rooftop next to three other people facing us. I assume they’re leaders as well.

“Is there water at the bottom or something?” A boy from Erudite says to the right of us.  

“I guess you’ll find out. Or not” Eric says nonchalantly. 

Christina turns to us, “We just jumped and they want us to jump again?”  I just look at her and shrug. 

“Well someone’s gotta go first, who’s it gonna be?” Eric says scanning over the crowd. His icy blue eyes land my dark blue eyes for a moment before he continues to scan the crowd. 

Out of nowhere, I hear Beatrice say “Me,” Eric looks at me before looking at her with a cold look on his face as he hops down from the ledge. 

Beatrice walks forward as the crowd of kids makes way for her. She looks at the drop and then takes off her sweater. “Yeah stiff take it off” I hear a boy in Candor clothing say, as other people throughout the crowd laugh. “ Put it back on,” he says quieter, I just roll my eyes at his comment. I always hated the name stiff, it always made me feel lesser than the other factions. 

Beatrice climbs onto the ledge, she looks down. “Today, initiate,” Eric says, sounding impatient. A few moments later she steps off the ledge and disappears. 

“Next!” Eric says, gesturing to the ledge. No one says anything. I notice that no one is gonna speak up so I decide to.

“I’ll go,” I say from the back as the people make another path to me. 

“Two stiffs in a row, what a surprise,” Eric says as I furrow my face at his comment. 

Before I walk all the way up to the front, I take my own sweater off and throw it at the boy in Candor clothing. It slaps him in the face surprising him before he just throws it to the ground. I walk up to the front, I look into Eric’s eyes as I pass him. When I got up onto the ledge I could feel him staring at me, like he was trying to burn a hole in my back. 

I take a deep breath and then take a step off the ledge. I felt like I was just hovering in the air even though I was falling into a dark pit that I had no clue where it was leading. The next thing I know I’m bouncing on my back into a big net. I inhaled sharply as the impact didn’t do too much good for my back.

Soon enough I felt a tug from one side of the net and I rolled my body towards the slope. I feel two hands grip me under my armpits as they pull me off the net. I take a minute to stabilize myself on the ground before I look up to be greeted by my brother, Tobias. He looked at me with a stone-cold face but I could see in his eyes that he was relieved and happy to see me safe. I knew he had transferred here, but I wasn’t even sure if I would ever see him again, yet here he is, right in front of me.

 I opened my mouth to say something, when he interrupted me, “What’s your name?” He asks me, with a deeper voice than I remember. Taken back by the shock that my brother was in front of me, I didn’t respond. 

“You can pick a new one if you want, but make it good. You don’t get to pick again.” He says breaking the silence between us. 

“Ummmm…” I say thinking for a second. “Lexi,” I say, choosing the nickname he had given me when we were younger

“Second jumper! Lexi!” My brother says to everyone else around us. His voice booms throughout the echoey room. 

“Welcome to Dauntless,” Tobias says quieter and gives me a slight smile.

I walk over and stand next to Beatrice, “you pick a new name?” I whisper to her as we hear the next initiate screaming as they jump from the roof. 

“Tris.” She says back

“That fits you,” I say smiling and looking over at her.

“And Lexi fits you,” she says and chuckles. 

It takes longer than I expected for all the initiates to make it down here. After the last one named Molly, the leaders made their way down. The three other leaders make it down first and the last one being Eric. My brother tries to help him off the net but Eric refuses the help. I couldn’t help but notice the tension between them. 

“Dauntless-born, you go with Lauren, transfers stay with me. Go.” My brother says and the group of Dauntless-born follow the girl, Lauren.

“Most of the time I work in intelligence, but during your training, I’ll be your instructor. My name's Four,” He explains as I’m taken aback by his new name. I think to myself how hard it’s going to be to not call him Tobias. 

“Four like the number?” Christina questions from the other side of Tris. 

“Exactly like the number,” My brother says coldly staring at Christina.

“What happened? One through three were already taken?” She says back as I hear others laughing throughout the crowd. I scowled turning to her as she made fun of my brother, luckily no one noticed. 

“What’s your name?”

“Christina”

“Well, Christina, the first lesson you learn from me if you wanna survive here, is keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me?” Four says stepping closer to Christina. I notice the confidence in his voice that I had never heard before.

“Yes,” Christina responds with a tint of fear in her voice. 

“Good. Follow me” He says as he walks behind the crowd. 

My brother leads us throughout the Dauntless compound showing us the off-limits places, the chasm, and the training room. “I can already tell I’m gonna get lost in these halls,” I say to Tris, commenting on the indistinguishable white walls throughout the compound. We arrive at a massive open space where music is playing and people are conversing I look up and down examining the height of the space, I never imagined being in a place this big, I look at Tris and Christina smiling.

“This is the Pit, the center of life here in Dauntless.” My brother says making me nervous that he was standing so close to the edge. I look over the edge watching all the members dancing and fighting.

My brother then led us to a big room with multiple beds. “You’re gonna be sleeping here for the next ten weeks.” He says turning towards us

“Girls or boys?” I ask looking at my brother.

“Both.” He says, looking sternly at me.

“That works” I hear a boy say from behind me

“If you like this you’re gonna love the bathroom” My brother fake exclaims walking towards another open space. I look around at the open toilet and shower areas.  I look over at Tris and Christina with “oh great” looks as other initiates complain.

“You should feel right at home, Candor. Everything out in the open. Get changed.” My brother says coldly as he bumps Tris and me in the shoulder while walking out. I just roll my eyes questioning why he’s being so distant.

We pick out our beds and start to get dressed. Tris, Christina and I, pick three beds along the wall and find our chests filled with our new Dauntless clothes. As Tris and I get undressed the boy from Candor, whose name I learned is Peter, commented on our bodies. I just sent a glare his way but he just returned it with a smirk. 

“I swear when I get the chance, I’m gonna beat the shit out of him,” I say turning to Tris, she gives me a small smile. I finished getting dressed before anyone else and felt uncomfortable just waiting before were called again, so I walked out into the hall.

As I made it into the hall, I notice a tall figure towards the end, I realize it’s my brother. He walks a bit further down and turns the corner, I follow him. I turn the corner a few moments after him but bump right into his chest not expecting him to be so close. I look up and gaze into his eyes, the next thing I know he pulls me into a tight hug, making me tighten up and wince.

“Thank god you’re ok, but you shouldn’t have come here.” He says still hugging me.

“I’m 18 now, I can make my own choices. And the day you left, I had already made my choice.” I say pulling away from his warm chest.

“I shouldn’t have left you. I should have stayed and protected you” He says looking at me with a sorry face.

“It’s ok, you made the right choice for yourself. Plus I was able to handle myself well enough” I say looking down.

“He got worse, didn’t he? After I left?” Tobias asks me, moving the jacket slightly off my arms, wanting to see the pain inflicted on me.

“I’m fine” I respond quietly while pulling up my jacket sleeve back up and crossing my arms, but he had already noticed the cuts and bruises. 

We stand in silence for a bit before Tobias says, “Look as much as I would like to spend quality time and catch up with my little sister. It’s best that we don’t tell anyone that we know each other, let alone brother and sister. I just don’t want people thinking you’re getting an advantage or hurt you because of it.” He says pulling my face up to look at him.

“You don’t need to protect me anymore, Tobias. I understand that I need to go through this process by myself. Do you promise that we’ll get to spend time together after though?” I responded, giving him a slight smile.

“Promise,” He says pulling me into another hug. “And it’s Four. Now get back into the dorms before people get suspicious of where you’ve gone off to. Someone will be back to get you guys soon.” I squeeze him a little harder before pulling away and walking back to the dorms. 

A/N: Welcome to Dauntless, everyone! Hope you’re enjoying the series so far. Thanks for reading!

🏷: @awkwardspontaneity​

[escapewithbts]

Secrets in a Foreign Language - Jungkook (Part One)

So I’m not entirely sure if this is going to be just a couple parts or a small series, I kind of just came up with it randomly! I also couldn’t think of a better title so bear with me please haha nevertheless I hope you enjoy! I loved writing this beginning so far!

------------------------------------------------

>>next

You fiddled with the keys in your hand, searching for the one you marked for this particular unit. Finally, you found the correct one, pushing it into the lock and opening the front door with a click. It looked like pretty much every other apartment in the building, modern with a large living space, open concept kitchen with stainless steel appliances, large windows that looked over the city of Seoul. Just another multi-million dollar home you could only ever afford in your dreams.

Yet here you were, entering the home of an individual who could afford such a space in their reality... because it was your job to clean it. Yes, you were a housekeeper for the company who owned this apartment building; one of the most expensive places to live in all of South Korea.

You had moved here to Seoul from your home country abroad in search of change. A new adventure? Something to push you out of your comfort zone? Really you were just extremely bored back home; sick of the same routines, the same people, the career you didn’t enjoy. So, before you could talk yourself out of it, you contacted a job agency based in Seoul, South Korea whose mission was to find jobs for foreigners who spoke little to no Korean (aka you). And that is approximately how you landed this gig. Only a few months in and your Korean had significantly improved (requiring basic necessities like, you know, food and toilet paper, forced you to learn how to acquire said items in this new language) and you weren’t hating this job at all. You were alone most of the time, cleaning wasn’t too difficult since you have been doing it your whole life, and because it was for such a wealthy company the pay wasn’t bad either. Was it what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Probably not. But it paid the bills and still left some income for exploration of your new home country.

And honestly, the most difficult part of it all was the scheduling. Sometimes you had limited time to clean a home based on the person’s day, sometimes you had an excessive number of units to clean in one day and wondered how exactly you were going to finish them all. But once you came into a routine that stuck you quickly found a pace for yourself that worked perfectly.

And since you were entering the homes of some of Korea’s wealthiest and most famous, the contract and background check for the position were quite lengthy. For example, you couldn’t touch anything unnecessary in their homes, couldn’t snoop around (obviously, you wouldn’t do that for a “regular” person anyway?), you weren’t even allowed to use their bathroom if you had to. The company had contacted all your previous employers, colleagues, some friends, even randomly requested internet browsing history a couple times! (I guess they wanted to make sure you weren’t a crazy stalker “fan” some K-pop groups you had heard about having, or a spy for another company’s CEO). The process was rather insane in your opinion, but alas, you passed, and honestly, the fact that you were a foreigner who didn’t speak much Korean probably helped your case. And to be fair, you really didn’t care about whose house you were in, you were just thankful to have acquired a job after your decision to move across the world that happened on a whim.

This particular unit was actually decorated quite nicely. It was more minimal style, with modern furniture that still felt warm and inviting. You figured it must be the home of someone younger, probably mid-twenties like you, but you also got the feeling they didn’t spend much time here. It was already in fairly immaculate shape (thankfully, it was your last job of the day, so you knew it was going to be quick) and didn’t seem very lived in in general. You couldn’t help but notice what looked like speakers and recording equipment shoved into the corner of the room. This place must belong to a musician or producer of some sort, you thought. You shrugged and turned back to where you had entered, lugging your cleaning supplies in through the front door. Then you put in your wireless headphones, pulled on your rubber gloves, and began by dusting around the surfaces of the living room.

Not long after you had started, you were in the bathroom off the guestroom wiping down the sink. A sudden sound of what you thought was the loud slam of a door shutting startled you. Your head shot up and you stopped what you were doing to remove an earphone from one of your ears. Immediately you heard the raised voice of a young woman coming from down the hall, followed by a quieter one from a man. Your heart started racing. Were you in the wrong unit? Had you read the schedule incorrectly? Did you get the address mixed up? You frantically pulled your phone from your back pocket to check the schedule that came directly from management. Yes, the date matched, it was Tuesday. Yes, the time matched, 2 in the afternoon. And the address was correct, too. So why were there people suddenly in the home? Did they know you were here? This had never happened before in the short time you had been doing this job, so you had no idea what to do. Continue working like you didn’t realize they were here? Make your presence known so you don’t seem like you’re being suspicious? Were you going to get in trouble with the company? Certainly not if you were just following the schedule, right? Your mind was going a mile a minute.

Then before you could quite make up your mind, the voices sounded even closer, and you could only make out a little bit of what they were saying, especially since your Korean wasn’t great yet.

“Why didn’t you go with me?... What were you thinking?” you heard the woman’s voice say (or something like that so you thought?) She sounded angry.

“I don’t know…” the man replied, followed by something else you couldn’t comprehend. He was still a lot quieter than her.

She spoke again.

“What are people going to say, Jungkook?”

You froze.

Jungkook.

Jungkook? Of BTS?

Okay, so you weren’t a crazy stalker fan or anything, but it was impossible to avoid knowing about the K-pop group BTS. They were literally everywhere around Seoul. Commercials on tv, billboards all over the city, posters on the subway trains… their faces even appeared on the coffee drink you had every morning for goodness sake! Since you kept seeing them, after you had gotten the job, you researched them a little bit. Their music was good, they seemed like genuine people, but never did you think you would be in one of their houses. There were hundreds of Korean businessmen, executives, celebrities, and only 7 members of BTS. Honestly, what were the chances?

Pretty good apparently. Fuck.

“I’m your girlfriend, Jungkook,” she continued annoyingly.

Ah, that’s right. In your brief research you had read he was seeing another idol. What was her name again?

“No, Cho-hee,” Jungkook replied.

Oh right. Kim Cho-hee. You remember now.

“You’re my pretend girlfriend.”

Your heart stopped.

Oh fuck! You definitely weren’t supposed to hear that. You had to show yourself now. That’s it, your decision was made for the sake of your career.

You quietly walked out of the room and found the two of them in the hallway with their backs turned to you. Just as Cho-hee was opening her mouth to respond you cleared your throat.

They both whipped around at your sudden sound. Yep, it was them alright. You recognized them immediately. They stared at you stunned for a second before Cho-hee spoke up.

“Who are you?!” she practically barked in Korean, taking a few steps towards you with her long slim legs, her large brown eyes wide, her dark hair whipping around her shoulders, her pale skin painted with a red hue.

“I, uh, I’m…” you stuttered, attempting to find the correct Korean words but failing miserably from being put on the spot.

Jungkook calmly put his hand around Cho-hee’s arm and pulled her back slightly.

“She the housekeeper,” he answered in Korean for you. Yes, that was the word you were looking for. “I don’t think she speaks Korean.”

Not well, anyway, thanks Jungkook.

He turned toward you, his dark brown eyes finding yours. Your stomach flipped from nervousness.

“You speak English?” he asked timidly in your native tongue.

All you could do was nod.

He let out a sigh of relief and said something you didn’t understand to Cho-hee, causing her to step back and a look of relief to wash over her face, too.

It was then that you realized they probably thought you didn’t understand their conversation. That you didn’t know the meaning of any of it. Should you come clean and tell them you understood? Particularly the “pretend girlfriend” stuff?

Cho-hee turned back toward the main room and beckoned at Jungkook.

“Come on, let the help continue working.”

Oof. ‘The help’. You definitely understood that. You knew cleaning the homes of rich people meant you may run into some entitlement, but dang, you didn’t think someone would make it so obvious, language barrier or not.

You winced.

Jungkook cocked his head, a confused look on his face. But then he shook it off.

“I think…” he said hesitantly in English, then shook his head to correct himself, “Ah um no, I thought you were here on Wednesday?”

You shook your head.

“No, um, my schedule says Tuesday. So, unless it’s wrong then…”

Jungkook put two fingers to the bridge of his nose in thought.

“Aiishh, no you are right, I’m sorry. I’m not here very often so I never can remember which day.”

You began taking off your gloves.

“It’s-it’s okay, I can go, come back at a better time…”

He waved his hands in front of him in protest.

“No, no, stay, continue, please. I don’t want to be an... interrupt... interruption? That’s the right word?” a blush formed on his face as he chuckled at himself.

You smiled. Cute.

“Yes, that’s right. Thank you. I’m almost done, I promise.”

He smiled at you again and nodded.

“Jungkook-ah!” Cho-hee yelled from the kitchen.

Jungkook then bowed to you and whispered a quick “thank you” before disappearing into the other room.

You hadn’t realized how tense your body had become until you they were out of your sight and you released your muscles with a deep breath.

You quickly decided to keep their conversation to yourself; no point in letting them know you accidentally heard every word and understood, right? You wouldn’t tell anyone, after all it wasn’t your business. Still, there was that thing you felt for not speaking up right away. What was this feeling again? Oh yeah. Guilt. You tried to shake it off and just continued scrubbing.

There were, thankfully, no more loud conversations between the two of them while you cleaned, but just as you were finishing up in the last room of the home you heard the front door open and close. Were you by yourself again? You listened for noises. Silence. You couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief.

However, upon stumbling back into the kitchen with all your cleaning supplies you noticed Jungkook sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. He was scrolling through his phone and eating a bowl of cereal. He jumped when he saw you, clutching his tattoo covered hand to his chest.

“Holy shit, I forgot you were here,” he stated breathlessly.

Your face turned hot.

“Sorry, I’m... sorry for startling you. And again, for being here while you’re here; the, um, schedule mix up, I’m, uh, not sure what happened…” you stumbled over your words. Real smooth.

He waved his hand while shoving another spoonful of cereal and milk into his mouth.

“No, no, really, it’s my fault. I forget the schedule sometimes.”

You shrugged and nodded.

“Yes, well, I imagine you’re pretty busy most of the time.”

Shit. The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. Weren’t you not supposed to know who he was? You mentally smacked yourself in the forehead.

He didn’t seem bothered though, he just replied with a nod and a small “mhmm”, as if to say, ‘you’re not wrong’.

You started walking towards the front door to leave (before you could get yourself in even more trouble), but right as you did so Jungkook lifted the cereal box up from its place on the counter, looked at you and asked, “Want some?”

You stopped in your tracks and hesitated.

“Umm… I’m not sure… I’m allowed?”

You felt silly for saying this as you were a grown ass adult, but you knew it was true. There were so many rules put in place with this job, and they hadn’t quite gotten to the clause about eating the client’s cereal.

Jungkook stood up and walked around to the cupboard, pulling a bowl down from the shelf and grabbing a spoon from the drawer.

He placed them at the spot across from him and gave you a small smile before sitting back down.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Your secret is safe with me.”

He ran his fingers along his lips like a zipper which made you both laugh.

“That is my favorite cereal…” you admitted, putting your things on the floor and walking over to the stool.

As you were sitting down, Jungkook began pouring the milk into your bowl. You stared at it confusingly, caught off guard for a second. Not cereal first? He read your expression immediately.

“I know, I am weird, I put milk first, okay?”

You put your hands up and laughed, a blush on both your faces.

“I didn’t say anything,” you retaliated.

Jungkook jokingly narrowed his eyes at you as he poured in the cereal, a grin still across his lips.

“I saw it in your face.”

You chuckled nervously and looked down at your now full bowl, taking a spoonful up to your mouth.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook suddenly asked.

You swallowed before answering.

“(y/n).”

There was a pause.

“What’s… yours?” you asked coyly, wondering if you could get away with pretend naivety.

Jungkook cocked his head and let a breathy giggle out his nose as he chewed, it scrunching and creating wrinkles.

“Hmm... my name is… Park Jimin.”

You snorted, thankful that no milk shot out your nose.

He laughed at that, his perfect teeth on display.

Clearly, he was testing you. Two could play at that game.

“Oh yeah? Well then it’s nice to meet you, Jimin.”

He didn’t break eye contact with you as he took another bite.

“You too, (y/n).”

You smiled and shook your head, looking down to fill your spoon once more.

The two of you continued eating, just causally chatting, mostly about you and your move to Korea and your life back in your home country. Jungkook seemed so shy and sweet, the complete counterpart to his “pretend” girlfriend.

Your stomach flipped at the memory of the conversation you had overheard. You had almost forgot about it by now, wrapped up in the random moment of eating cereal with Jungkook. The guilty feeling returned. You knew you had to let him know, especially after how kind he has been to you. He could hate you, that was okay, it’s not like you had anything to lose.

Oh, except your job.

You dropped your spoon into the now empty bowl and took a deep breath.

“Umm... I have to tell you something…” you began before you could chicken out from this awkward conversation you were about to have with basically a stranger.

He put his bowl to his lips and slurped the milk while simultaneously looking up at you, waiting for you to continue.

“I speak some Korean. And I heard your conversation earlier… with, um, Cho-hee, and I understood… well, most of it,” he slowly placed his bowl back on the counter in front of him and stared at you with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted open, “But I-I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t sure what to do, and I-I swear I will keep it to myself and never mention it ever again; I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear anything, okay? Seriously. I promise.”

He didn’t say anything, and you couldn’t read the expression on his face. He stared off into space for a minute, then stood up and grabbed the empty bowls, walking them over to the sink and placing them inside. His back was to you as he hunched over, his hands supporting him on either side. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, your hands getting sweaty as you fiddled with your fingers.

“I really am sorry,” you whimpered softly, “Please, please don’t have me fired.”

He turned back to you, a surprised look on his face, his doe eyes wide.

“What? Why would I do that?”

You looked down.

“I don’t know… for not telling you I heard right away. For listening. For… being here while you’re here.”

Jungkook sighed and ran a hand through his long black hair, then shut his eyes tightly.

“I’m not worried you tell anyone, it’s okay. I have been thinking about… trying to end it anyway.”

He opened his eyes again and suddenly looked tired and worried. But you didn’t want to pry. It really wasn’t your place.

“Okay.”

Was all you could come up with to respond.

He glanced at you briefly and gave you a shy side smile.

“So, I don’t tell anyone you ate with me, you don’t tell I have a fake girlfriend?” he said jokingly, knowing he was the one who persuaded you to eat with him in the first place.

You chuckled and stuck out your hand.

“Yeah. Deal?”

He put his hand in yours. It was warm and felt so strong against your small one.

“Deal.”

You were so thankful he didn’t seem upset about the whole thing. In fact, he almost seemed relieved that someone else knew now. In this short time spent with him you knew you were leaving with only high praises and positive thoughts of Jeon Jungkook.

“Well, I better get going,” you said, standing up from the stool. You grabbed all your supplies and looked back up him.

“Thank you, um, for the cereal and being so understanding about everything.”

He nodded at you.

“I will remember your schedule next time and not disturb you by being here, okay?”

You smiled.

“You didn’t disturb me, but okay.”

“Tuesdays at…umm what time do you get here?” he put his fingers between his brows in thought again.

“2pm.”

He grinned at you and gave you a thumbs up.

“Okay! Okay okay! I got it! Let’s get it!”

You laughed and he chuckled embarrassingly.

“Well it was nice to meet you, Jungkook. Take care.”

You gave him a little wave as you went to the front door, opening it and stepping out.

“You too, (y/n),” he called after you, “I’ll see you around.”

*

>>next

Masterlist

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 8 Part 2

“We’ll take care of it from here, L/N.  You aren’t allowed back in.” Hayward said. 

“What do you mean I’m not allowed back in?!” You yelled, frustrated.  You spent all day talking to him just for him to tell you that there’s no plan where you go back. 

“I can’t risk having you under Maximoff’s magic again.  For all we know she’ll use you to destroy us.  You’re done here.” 

“But I have the best chance of going back in.” 

“I don’t care.  Woo, escort her out of here.  I don’t care where she goes but she can’t stay here any longer.” 

Jimmy nodded solemnly, holding out a hand to you.  Still angered by Hayward’s words you stood up from your chair abruptly, pushing Jimmy’s hand out of the way.  “You don’t get to make that choice for me.  I’m going to find out what’s going on inside the hex.” 

Hayward glared at you before raising a hand to his earpiece, muttering something you couldn’t hear.  He left the room as two guards came in, grabbing you by the elbows.  “You can’t do this!” You yelled out to Tyler.  “I will find my way back into Westview!” 

The guards began leading you down the halls as Darcy, Monica, and Jimmy all watched.  They didn’t know what they could do to help you.  You watched the hallways carefully, making sure you knew exactly where you needed to go once you broke free from them.

They led you outside, towards one of the trucks.  They threw you in before you could do anything, locking you into place with a set of handcuffs.  You huffed at them as they moved to the front of the vehicle.  One of the men sat behind the wheel, adjusting the mirror.  “Where are you taking me?” You asked them.  

Their answer sent shivers down your spine.

“To a place you won’t be able to come back from.” 

~

The drive was long, about two hours if you counted the seconds correctly.  The place they were talking about looked like a prison.  The walls were easily forty feet high, glaring down at you as if you were merely an ant.  The men dragged you into the building, leading you down yet another hallway.  You half expected a light to flicker on the way.  

The end of the hallway had a large desk with a woman sitting behind it.  She glared up at you from her seat, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.  “Is this the mutant you were telling me about?” She asked, almost disgustedly. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Bring her in, take her to the confinement room,” She sighed and handed one of the guards a key.  

“The what room?  Do you people even work for S.H.I.E.L.D?” You turned to look at them, seeing their empty expressions. They nudged you, forcing you to walk down a new hallway.

“We work for S.H.I.E.L.D, but we work for another agency as well.” 

“Another agency?  Dare I call you H.Y.D.R.A agents?” You tried to keep your brave face on, but it was hard knowing that you were being taken somewhere you didn’t know by people you didn’t know.

“A group even more powerful than H.Y.D.R.A ever was.  We handle mutants like yourself more specifically.  Haven’t you noticed that you’re completely drained of your power right now?  The cuffs are made to fit you perfectly, drain you of any energy you may have.” Your eyes widened in fear.

“So what’s the point in having me?” 

“Right now?  We’re just here to make sure you don’t mess up the timeline.” 

“How would I mess up the timeline?  The Avengers worked with time travel weeks ago and now you’re saying we could still be altering timelines?” 

“Precisely.  In fact, you could be altering it even more than you ever realized.  With your powers, if you were to come into contact and team up with the Scarlet Witch again, you could corrupt the entire multiverse.” 

“Multiverse?  The Scarlet Witch?  I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now!” You exclaimed.  

“It’s for the best you don’t then.  Don’t worry.  We’ll only keep you here until The Scarlet Witch is revealed.  It shouldn’t take too long.  We’ll see you soon, L/N.”  They pulled off your handcuffs and shoved you into a room.  Before you could race out of it, they locked the door.  

The room seemed to be made out of a metal.  It was all just metal, cold, and eerie.  A bed was in one corner, a desk with very few books, and a toilet and sink were on one side.  The other side had a chest, you assumed it was probably filled with blankets or pillows.  Whatever the room was made of, it had to have been made out of the same metal as the cuffs.  You still felt drained by it. 

“What do I do now?” 

~

A week had passed and you found yourself sitting by the desk, reading a book.  You felt like you were going insane there.  A man would bring you food twice a day, giving you a small smile each time he did.  You merely glared at the man and waited until he was gone before you would eat.  It was always something a small.  A sandwich, an apple, maybe a bottle of water.  It was always on paper plates and paper napkins, ensuring you wouldn’t have anything sharp or heavy. 

“Good news,” The man greeted you one day.  You watched him with a careful eye.  “The timeline is almost restored, meaning you’ll be free soon enough.  It should only be another day or two.  I enjoyed our time together, even if you don’t.  Many of the people who show up here are less than pleased and they would insult me quite a bit.  I would prefer a nice conversation, after all I am just the messenger, but I’ll take what I can get.”  He placed the plate down.  A granola bar and a ham and cheese sandwich.  Predictable. 

“Hopefully tomorrow is the last day we’ll see each other.  I look forward to it,” He smiled once more before leaving.  

You looked down at the plate, picking at the granola bar.  What were you to do now? 

~

The next morning you woke up, waiting for the man to appear once again.  He was a friendly face at least.  Given you hadn’t seen anyone else all week you were almost kind of glad to see somebody each day.  You were positive you would start hallucinating at this rate.  

The door opened for the first time today, but it wasn’t the man you were waiting for.  It was a different man.  One you hadn’t seen in a week.  His mischievous grin was as wide as ever, his black hair was pulled back behind his ears.  He wore a Gucci suit.  Of course he did.  

“Did you miss me, darling?” He asked, raising his arms up as if he expected you to run to him. 

You looked at him with wide eyes.  “How are you here?” You asked him. 

“What do you mean?  I know I’m dead in this timeline but surely you knew it was me inside the Scarlet Witch’s reality,” He chuckled. 

You stood up, walking to him slowly, scanning his face for any kind of flaw.  Any indication that someone was pretending to be him.  “The Scarlet Witch’s reality?  Don’t you mean Wanda’s?” 

“Wanda, Scarlet Witch, same person, just different names.  Now, I’m a little disappointed to hear that you couldn’t see through my illusion, but I can’t say that I’m surprised.  You were never one for noticing it after all.” 

“You were in there all along?” You asked breathlessly.  

“Of course I was!  Scott was never a man who lived in Westview.  He was merely someone I made up so I could be close to you.  I needed to help set the timeline straight.  The T.V.A would have had my head if I couldn’t do it.” 

“Who’s the T.V.A?” 

“The Time Variance Authority.  They’re the ones who locked you up here, despite my arguably great reasons why they shouldn’t,” He spoke bitterly.  “But, I had to help them with this timeline.  I’m from a different timeline.  One where Thanos hasn’t snapped away half of the universe.  I escaped using the Tesseract.” 

A lightbulb seemed to flicker on in your head.  Of course it was him!  Bruce told you about what had gone wrong during the “Time heist.”  He mentioned how Loki managed to escape in 2012.  “You’re working for them?” 

“Not anymore,” He winked.  “I extracted some of the Scarlet Witch’s magic before she took off with the Darkhold.” 

“Wanda has the Darkhold?!”  You almost screeched.  Through your readings on Asgard you learned of the dark magic the Darkhold possessed.  It was known for corrupting people’s minds when read.  Considering your friend was already unstable enough to create a false reality you were terrified by what she could do if she had the book. 

“Shh!” He hushed you quickly.  “There are still people in the building.  But yes, she does.  Don’t worry, I’ve seen the rest of this timeline.  She’ll be alright with help from the Sorcerer Supreme.  But you hold no important place in this timeline anymore.” 

“What do you mean by that?” You asked. 

He walked up to you, close enough to place a hand on your waist comfortingly.  “Y/N,” It brought tears to your eyes to hear him say your name once more.  “I want you to come with me.” 

“Where would we go?” 

“Anywhere.  We can go anywhere you’d like.  This timeline, another, somewhere on Midgard or somewhere far away from it.  But I’m asking you to run away with me.  I know you may be frightened by the idea, especially because I’m not the same Loki you used to know, but I don’t want to live without you.  This is our chance to finally have a life together.  Free from Odin, from Thanos, from everyone!  We could finally be together.” 

You searched his eyes for any lies.  It wouldn’t be the first time he betrayed someone he loved, but you couldn’t find an ounce of betrayal in him.  He was being completely honest with you.  You smiled slightly, tears brimming your eyes.  “Loki, I have friends here.  Family.  Knowing that Wanda is out there with the Darkhold is terrifying me.” 

“And you can see her again, I promise you.  But for now we must leave.  You won’t see her for quite a while, but,” He hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not he should tell you the next piece of information.  “But you will see her again.  She’s going to use the Darkhold to cross the multiverse.  We can safely see her again, but right now we have to go.” 

The two of you looked out of the room quickly as you heard yells coming down the hallway.  The T.V.A was close now.  They were planning on arresting both you and Loki.  “What do you say, Y/N?” His eyes were pleading, begging you to go with him.  

You took a deep breath, wiping your eyes, before grabbing onto his hand.  The other hand, that was still on your waist, tightened his hold slightly.  You smiled up at him.  “Let’s go,” You whispered. 

He returned the smile, before saying one last thing to you. 

“Oh, how I love you.”

.

.

.

Yeah, no, I’m with Wanda on this one.  We’re not ending it like that.  Reality Check is far from over.  Happy April Fool’s, everyone.  

Part 2 will be out tomorrow.  

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[soradragon]

I have a reauest if you have the time! Shinsou and Reader where Reader isn't scared of Shinsou's quirk and talks to him a lot and Shinsou is like "Nice person? Is this love?" (Tbh, I'd rather it end with just friends, but if you want romance then go for it) PS: Will you write for female characters if it isn't romantic?

Soup To Heal The Aches

~summary~

You were very odd in Shinso’s eyes. A transfer student who’s not even in his class keeps seeking him out to hang out. And you don’t seem to be afraid of him. After finding out you just want to be his friend, he has come to welcome your presence. Making his life brighter. Until one day you suddenly don’t show up.

~~

Thank you for your request my dear @kawayuni !! I absolutely loved writing this fic!! And yes! I’ll write for female characters if it’s platonic like friendship! I also write for characters without reader like for example a fic about baku squad hanging out at the beach for example!

This is a platonic x reader fic but you can also see it as romantical however you wanna see it! ^^

Anyway! Come chat with me about fun things or story ideas! my box and dms are always open for you guys!

Warnings; angst with a happy end!

Shinso x gender neutral reader (in what way is for you to decide!^^)

Check out my main masterlist if you liked what you read!

If you want to be tagged in the next upcomming fic don’be afraid to ask me!^^

Please leave a little comment or reblog to let me know you liked it! I greatly appreciate it!^^

Anyway, enjoy^^

~~~~

You were a mystery to him, an odd, peculiar student, you were so different from the rest, a big contrast to the other students.

Ever since you transferred to UA, you've been stuck to Shinso like glue, going to him with all your questions, sitting next to him in lunches etc. Which was quite strange since the two of you were not in the same class. You could have gone to any of your classmates, some even went up to you to offer their help. Yet you politely reclined most of them and went towards Shinso.

You weren't annoying him or crossing some boundaries of his - you've asked if what it was ok if you sat next to him or talked to him, he didn't mind - it just left him confused is all.

After all, you knew what he was capable of, knew that he could use his quirk on you any time he wanted. Yet still, you talked with him, running up to him when you found him admits the horde of students wandering through the hall only to chat and actually listen to his opinions. 

One day, he had asked you why you gravitated towards him when there are so many others you could be hanging out with.

Your response was quite unexpected: Your head had shot up from your lunch, staring at him as if he had just grown five separate heads.

"What..?" you had asked, thinking you hadn't heard him correctly Shinso repeated the question. After a moment of rapid blinking, you started to pout, frowning at your shoes you spoke, "is it so wrong that I just feel comfortable around you? You're nice and easy to talk to, can't that be enough reason to want to be your friend?"

Your words had surprised him, he had to admit. Your reasoning was simple and straightforward, leaving no room for doubt, it left him with a warm feeling. Not that cliche, warm, fluttery feeling characters out of a novel get when they fall in love. No, it didn't feel like that, it was the kind of warmth people get when they finally found someone who understands them, a friend who was trustworthy and wouldn't leave till the end of time. 

It was new... but a good kind of new. 

A couple of months passed, and he had started to accept the fact that you were his friend now. Hanging out most days when both of you were free. 

You sitting in the support class gave you more freedom then Shinso. Thus when he wasn't free because of the amounts of homework he had to do, you would come over to help him out, sitting on his bed while he sat at his desk, mulling over the questions. 

While your feet would dangle in a childlike enthusiasm, you gave him some good points and observations when Shinso was stuck, opening his eyes to different views he hadn't thought of before.

Shinso had become so accustomed of you being next to him that he couldn't think of a future without you by his side. Which is why he now was at such a loss. 

Normally, you would already sit at your usual table at lunch, waiting for him. But when Shinso arrived at the cafeteria, he couldn't find your excited self waving at him. He checked his phone; no messages from you.

...Odd...

Shinso had pushed it to the side though, thinking you were held up by your lecture and you couldn't message him because of reasons. That had to be it.

He convinced himself that it was nothing and took a seat at your usual table, deciding switch things up and wait for you instead.

Surely you would arrive shortly.

You didn't come...

Shinso was more than confused, a bit hurt even.

Why didn't you show up? Did he do something wrong? Didn't you want to be friends anymore?

His thoughts went immediately to the worst, frowning he pushed down. That couldn't be... Surely there was an explanation.

Slight dread pooled inside his stomach, yet he pushed on. Convincing himself you were just busy a-and forgot to tell him, yeah, that got to be it.

Shinsou ruffled his hair to shake him from his doubts.

A thing you used to do when you knew Shinso was getting stressed, doing it himself didn't soothe him like when you did it. It just felt empty.

Shinso shook his head, deciding to wait and see. You would probably meet him when school ends for your daily hangouts, apologizing a hundred times for missing lunch together.

Shinso smirked, thinking about how he could tease you for making him concerned wait.

But when the time came, you weren't there. 

Now worry really started to set in. 

Did he scare you off? Surely he didn't, you firmly told him you didn't mind him and his quirk.

Did he anger you in some way? That couldn't be it either, you were not one to avoid someone after a conflict, trying to resolve it instead.

So many thoughts flooded inside Shinso's mind, each one he had a counter for except one...

You didn't care for him anymore, you didn't want to be friends anymore...

That set his mind in a destructive path, all kind of emotions swirled inside of him, he wanted to cry, panic, scream, find you, run away, so many he couldn't keep up. 

It hurt.

His chest ached, his brain stopped working, it was just a blank space except for a couple words:

It was his fault.

He didn't notice it, but he had slumped down on a bench, staring at nothing while gripping his head. 

Where did he go wrong? Everywhere, of course, why else would you leave. He was broken, awkward and unsocial. You must have gotten sick of his angst, must have gotten sick of his quiet self. Stupid, of course, you left. You deserved friends so much better then he could ever be.

A sudden tap on Shinso's shoulder woke him up, he shot his head up only one word stumbling out of his mouth in the sudden awakening from his trance.

"Huh...?"

It was a student, one he didn't recognize though.

They panted while trying to form words.

"A-are you...called...Shinsu...?"

Shinso stared at the student for a moment, not fully grasping the situation before nodding slightly. The slip up of his name going unnoticed to Shinso.

The student let out a sigh of relief, "thank god, you have no idea how hard it is to find you, I've been searching for you the entire day."

He said after catching his breath, grinning victoriously to himself like he just won the lottery.

"Y/N told me you wouldn't be hard to miss, boy were they wrong! Doesn't matter, now I'll get free food for a week!"

The boy laughed to himself, but Shinso didn't pay him any attention, your name echoed inside his head.

"Y/N..?"

Shinso asked hesitantly, looking up slightly unsure. 

The boy nodded vigorously, "yes! They asked me to find you and tell you They couldn't meet up today since they're sick! Aaand... their phone fell in the toilet...That phone still smells like the fish from last night..."

"Sick...?"

"Yeah, there was something wrong in Y/N's food."

"Where are they now?"

"In bed at the campus, dude - hey, where are you going?"

The boy called out with confusion laced in his voice as Shinso rushed towards the dorm without giving the boy a thank you.

His mind was somewhere else, concerned thoughts of you circled around his mind he had to go to you and see if you were ok.

*(*)*(*)*

You were rudely awakened from your sleep by a soft knock on the door. You groaned as you rubbed your heavy eyes, "mgnnn...come in..."

The door was slammed open not a second later - which was not good for your searing headache - a worried Shinso barged in afterwards. 

At least he had the mind to close the door softly before rushing to your side.

"Hey Y/N..." 

Shinso mumbled softly, brushing some damp hair out of your face.

You squinted up at him, he had a soft smile on his face and a paper bag in his other hand. 

"...Why do you look like you've run a marathon...?"

You slurred out weakly, making Shinso laugh, "well, I kinda did," he said, gesturing to the bag in his hand. "Had to get some necessary items to help fix you up. Want some soup?"

Your eyes slightly widened as you watched Shinso turn around towards your little kitchen. (It wasn't really a kitchen, it only had a sink, a small refrigerator and a microwave) 

"You don't have to do that...Don't you have homework to worry about...?"

You tried to call out to him, but your voice was too hoarse to make much sound. Luckily he heard you, turning his head to look over his shoulder. Shinso smirked, bringing a finger to his lips, "don't strain your voice Y/N, you should be resting."

Oh, he could be such a jerk sometimes.

"Don't give me that look Y/N, I came as fast as I could when I heard you were sick."

You frowned. "Didn't Taka tell you not to worry...?"

"Heh, he probably did, but I hurried here when he said the words 'sick' and 'you'. It was all I needed."

Shinso chuckled to himself as he put the canned soup in the microwave. Leaning against the counter to watch you. 

"And I'm not going until the fever breaks," he said before smirking. "Or when the teachers finally manage to drag me out of your room." 

You groaned, burying yourself deeper into the blankets, the only reasonable thing in this room apparently.

Shinso snorted at your antics before grabbing a bowl out of the cupboard when the microwave started to beep. He carefully grabbed the can out of the microwave, remembering all the times he burned his fingers because he wasn't careful enough. 

It was too many times for his taste. (You love to tease him about it every now and again.) 

Shinso moderately poured - to avoid spilling the hot substance onto the counter - the soup into the bowl, adding a spoon soon after. 

Shinso smiled at his creation, satisfied with his cooking skills he brought it to you. 

"Wakey, wakey sleepyhead. Got some food."

Shinso said, poking you softly to help wake you up. You groaned in response, sitting up you looked at him with a dazed expression and coloured cheeks.

"Huh...? Waa...?" You mumbled, Shinso snorted at your coherent speech.

"Got food," he said, holding up the bowl as proof. "Can you eat yourself, or do I need to feed you?" 

You glared at him, wishing you had enough strength to slap that smirk off his face. But alas, the revenge plan would need to come later. 

"...Could you be anymore blunt..." You mumbled under your breath, glaring at the bowl of soup in Shinso's hand.

The man in question just sniggered, offering you the bowl as he spoke, "well, not to fret, you've still got your snark." Your glare had become even fiercer. "That's some good news at the very least."

"...Go to the moon..." You replied after taking a spoonful of soup.

Shinso's smirk got even wider, "I would love to for you Y/N, but first I'm going to take care of you. Maybe try that request again later."

You grumbled under your breath as you continued eating, refusing to look at him. Your blanket was far more interesting than his stupid teasing smirk.

Shinso grabbed a stool to sit next to you, watching as you ate the soup in your hands, continuing to ignore him.

Shinso's smirk turned soft as he watched you. 

It felt good, the teasing and comfortable atmosphere hanging around the two of you, he wouldn't have it any other way. 

It just felt right. 

The dynamic you both have is something Shinso treasures dearly, a friend like you will only appear once in a lifetime. He's glad he's found you, his world has become a lot brighter thanks to your presence.

You looked up from your bowl, which startled Shinso out of his trance. He tilted his head when you glanced towards him with a calculating expression.

"Hm?"

You smiled, "...oh, it's nothing...I was just thinking..."

"Thinking?"

"...Yeah...I think I'm just very grateful you came instead of going to your own dorm...I think...I would've been a bit lonely without you here, so...Thank you for not listening to my advice..."

Shinso's eyes widened considerably, gawking at your smile. Although you looked sick, Shinso thought your smile was radiant. 

Yeah, Shinso felt like the luckiest person in the world.

~~~~

Thank you for reading! And keep soaring high!^^

~~~~

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