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sadnymi · 6 months ago

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「 ✦ How Would The Slytherin boys React After you tell them you’re pregnant:✦ 」

[Mattheo Riddle-Theodore Nott-Lorenzo Berkshire-Draco Malfy-Tom Riddle-Regulus Black]

•Mattheo Riddle

1.Silence: You blurt out the news, a nervous flutter in your chest. Mattheo stares at you, processing the information. Don't panic! This is his initial shock absorbing mode.

2. More Silence: You try again. Still, silence. Don't take it personally; his mind is racing a million miles a minute.

3. The Disappearance Act: By evening, Mattheo might be MIA. Don't fret! This is probably him needing some space to grapple with the news. (Don't chase him to Knockturn Alley, though.)

4. Awkward Return: When he finally returns, you launch into a "what-are-we-going-to-do" speech. But wait! He cuts you off...

5. "Hey, it's okay” : Mattheo might surprise you with a calm demeanor. This doesn't mean he isn't nervous, but he's trying to reassure you (and maybe himself).

6. "I want it too." : Prepare for a confession! Mattheo, the king of nonchalance, might admit he wants this, with you. This might be followed by an apology for his earlier silence."Sorry, I was just shocked earlier. Shouldn't have reacted that way."

7. Confusion Reigns: "You're not mad?" you finally manage to ask, a sliver of doubt lingering.He might confess he's clueless about the whole "No," he says, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "It's just... I never thought about this stuff. Family, kids, the whole shebang. But if I'm gonna do it, I want it to be with you." _Cue the tiny butterflies in your stomach._

8. "But with you.":He might clarify that while the whole baby thing is new, having it with you? That's something he can do.

9. Protectiveness Unleashed: Expect a shift in Mattheo. He might become fiercely protective of you and the little one on the way. (Just don't tell him it's "nesting" if he starts building a barricade around your house.),Mattheo will hover over you, insisting you take prenatal vitamins and threatening to glare down any stranger who bumps into you. It's annoyingly sweet.

10.The (Slight) Freak Out (Because It's Mattheo): Don't get too comfortable yet. There will be moments of panic. Mattheo might blurt out something about not knowing the first thing about raising a kid, or how motorbikes suddenly seem like a terrible idea. Just remind him that you're in this together, crazy as it may be.

•Theodore Nott

1. Reality Check?: Theo might blurt out, "Are you sure?" It's not doubt about your love, but the sheer unexpectedness of it all. Breathe, and calmly confirm with that positive blood test result.

2. Freak-Out Time: Picture a cartoon character with smoke billowing from their ears. That might be Theo, internally freaking out. Don't worry, it's normal (though maybe not that dramatic).

3. Parental Apocalypse?: "Your dad will kill me!" Theo might shriek, envisioning a future father-in-law wielding a shotgun.

4. Waterworks Warning: Tears might well up in your eyes, a mix of emotions swirling. He will put everything beside and try to comfort you.

5. Protective Streak: Expect a dramatic shift. Theo, the notorious rule-breaker, might turn into a fierce protector, ready to shield you from any and all perceived threats.

6. Reassurance Renaissance: He'll rush to your side, muttering reassurances like "Hey, I'm here" and "I'll be here every step of the way." "I might be freaking out internally, but I'm not going anywhere."

7. "We" is the New Word: The "me" might temporarily disappear, replaced by a constant "we." He might start talking about "our baby" and "what we need to do.".

8. Fear is a Two-Way Street: Theo might confess he's scared too. Don't be surprised; fatherhood is a big leap for anyone. Reassure him you're in this together.

9. Facing the Future, Together: Theo might not be known for responsibility, but this news could be a turning point. He might surprise you with his determination to navigate this journey with you.

10.A (Slightly Chaotic) New Chapter: Yes, there will be challenges. But with Theo by your side, even the most chaotic moments of pregnancy and parenthood can turn into an unforgettable adventure (well, maybe not all the diaper changes).

•Lorenzo Berkshire

1. Record Scratch Moment: "Excuse me, what?" Lorenzo might look like a record player with a skipped track. Don't worry, the information overload will clear soon.

2. Baby Talk Confusion: He might blurt out, "Pregnant? Like...with a baby, like a real baby ?"

5. The F-Bomb Symphony: Brace yourself for a chorus of "Oh fuck!" Lorenzo might panic a bit, but hey, at least he acknowledges the reality.

6. Apology Avalanche: Prepare for a barrage of "I'm so sorry for putting a baby on you." It's not guilt-tripping, just Lorenzo's awkward way of expressing concern.

7. Decision Time: He might cut through the tension with a simple, "Okay, what do we do?" Don't be fooled by his bluntness; he's ready to face this together. He might surprise you with a genuine, "I want it. Do you?" Expect a hint of nervousness, but mostly a determination to be a part of this.

8. Family Gathering Fiasco: Prepare for a potential meltdown when it comes to telling your families. He might blurt out, "I'm pregnant!" before you can correct him. Just take a deep breath and handle the announcement yourself later.

9. Overprotective Overload: Expect Lorenzo to morph into your personal bubble wrap. Lifting a box? Forget it. Climbing stairs? Hold on, he's got you. You might need to remind him you're not made of glass .

10. Google Goes Dad Mode: One night, you might catch him researching "how to take care of a pregnant woman" , “ How to be a good dad “ on his phone. Aww, just don’t cry you will freak him out again.

•Draco Malfy

1. Denial is a River in Egypt: His first response? "You're lying." Don't panic. This is classic Draco, clinging to disbelief. Prepare to show him the pregnancy test, the blood test… anything to pierce his denial bubble.

2."Look Away, Not At It!": He might stubbornly refuse to even glance at the evidence. Don't take it personally; it's his defense mechanism malfunctioning.

3. Accusatory Tirade: Brace yourself for a verbal explosion. He might accuse you of lying, of trapping him, of using his family name. Remember, fear often masquerades as anger in Draco's world.

4. Protection Spells on His Pants?: He might insist he used every protection under the sun. Don't get into a magical contraception debate. Just try to explain accidents happen.

5. The Ejector Seat Option: Draco might bluntly tell you to leave. It's a knee-jerk reaction, not a reflection of his true feelings (hopefully!).

6. Standing Your Ground: Here comes the hard part. You tell him you're keeping the baby, with or without him. This might be the first crack in his emotional armor.

7. A Continent Away From Chaos: Fearing his reaction and the uncertainty of it all, you flee to another country. Girl, we feel you! But remember, you're not alone in this.

8. A Connection You Can't Deny: Despite the fear, you feel a powerful bond with the tiny life growing inside you. This little one deserves a chance, and you vow to protect them.

9. The Redemption Knocks: Two months later, a frantic pounding on your door jolts you awake. You open it to find a desperate Draco, his face etched with worry.

10. A Malfoy Regret-Fest: He confesses he searched everywhere for you, regret gnawing at him. When he learns you fled, the dam breaks. He apologizes profusely, begging you to tell him you kept the baby.

A Second Chance, Malfoy Style:

Relief washes over you as you nod, tears welling up. He wipes them away, muttering, "It's still ours. I'm so sorry. I'll never hurt you or our baby again." A genuine plea hangs in his voice.

“ Do you still love me?“ A shaky nod escapes your lips. He pleads for forgiveness, for a chance to be part of this family he never knew he craved.

This might be the start of a rocky but redemptive journey for both of you. Draco, beneath his icy exterior, might surprise you with his capacity for love and growth. Just remember, keep a communication charm handy – navigating fatherhood with Draco will likely be an… interesting adventure.

•Tom Riddle

1. The Stoic Facade: Don't be surprised if Tom remains eerily calm. His usual mask of control might slip not an inch, leaving you wondering what's going on behind those eyes.

2. Tears: A flood of emotions might be coursing through you, but Tom? His reaction might be a chilling calmness. This doesn't mean he's unfeeling, just that he processes things differently.

3. Misinterpreting Your Distress: Seeing you cry, Tom might jump to a chilling conclusion. "Is having a baby with me that terrifying?" Here comes the part where you clarify.

4. Guilt by Association: A quick "No, no!" will hopefully ease his worry. But then you blurt out your fear – you're both too young.

5. Age is Irrelevant: Tom operates on a different timeline. Age is just a number, and power? That's the real currency. He might say, "It's not about age, it's about power."

6. Power Trip for Three?: Brace yourself for a Tom Riddle monologue about the immense power your child could possess. He might see it as an extension of his own ambitions, a prodigy groomed for greatness.Don't be afraid to voice your anxieties. When you say, "Tom, I don't want my baby to be part of your plans," he might actually listen.

6. A Promise, Riddle-Style: “I promise you, I will keep them safe. I will keep you safe." But remember, Tom's definition of "safe" might not align with yours. Stay frosty.

7. Your Fears Take Center Stage: Tears welling up again? This might be the moment it dawns on Tom that you're not thrilled about the power angle. He might try to reassure you, but...

8. Promises with a Price: Tom doesn't give anything without expecting something in return. Be prepared for him to outline his expectations for your role in his grand plan.

9. A Tug-of-War for the Future: This is where things get interesting. Do you submit to his vision, or do you fight for a different future for your child? The choice is yours.

10. A Dance with Darkness: Having a child with Tom Riddle is a gamble. He might be a captivating presence, but remember, his path is paved with darkness. Are you willing to walk it with him?

•Regulus Black

1. Denial Dance: Regulus might stammer, "No, no," backing away like a cornered cat. This isn't about you; it's pure terror. Don't take it personally.

2. Touch-Starved Panic: You reach for his hand, but he flinches. Give him space for now.

3. The Talk: Regulus might utter the dreaded words, "You need to get rid of it." This comes from a place of fear for the child, not for himself.

4. Mama Bear Mode Activated: Your eyes widen. "No, Reg!" you declare, ready to defend your little bean.And It might be the wake-up call he needs. Witnessing your distress could trigger his protective side.

5. Black Family Fears: Regulus might unload about the Black family legacy, a breeding ground for misery. He fears bringing a child into that darkness."This family… it's torture. A child here wouldn't stand a chance." This is Regulus' way of expressing his fear for your child growing up under the Black banner. He might confess his fear of becoming his parents.

6. Us Against the World: You counter with, "It's our baby, Reg. We'll protect him/her." This might be the turning point.

7. Surprise: Regulus, in a rare show of vulnerability, pulls you into a hug. Hold him tight. He needs reassurance as much as you do.

8. Fearful Love: He might apologize, admitting he's scared for you and the baby. Reassure him you're in this together.

9. Escape Plan Hatched: Regulus suggests raising the child away from the Black family's clutches. This might be the most un-Regulus thing ever, and a good sign.

10. Surprise Dad Mode: Fast forward a few months. Regulus, who "didn't want" the baby, is secretly buying tiny clothes and setting up a nursery. And suddenly, bedtime stories and tea parties are in his future.

“Daddy's Little Girl”The moment he finds out it's a girl, prepare for a meltdown (of the happy kind!).

The magic deepens when your daughter recognizes his voice from within the womb. Witnessing the connection between them, a shared language before she even arrives, will fill your heart.

Late nights spent with Regulus talking softly to his daughter, his voice thick with newfound love, will paint a picture of a future you never dared to dream of. Maybe, just maybe, this family you're creating is exactly what Regulus craved – a love that defies darkness and a happiness he deserves.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

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punkshort · 7 months ago

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i know who you are | 7. the week

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel is on a mission to win you back. You struggle with your feelings and visit an old friend for some perspective.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, physical violence, wounds/blood/injuries/gore, vague reference to suicide (Joel remembering his incident after Sarah), alcohol consumption, non-descriptive smutty memory, mentions of murder (adults and children), mentions of pregnancy (not reader)

WC: 7.7K

A/N: I took some liberties with the background of the Fireflies, it's not exactly canon.

Series Masterlist

Somewhere in Northern California

It took two days.

Two full days of freezing temperatures and frigid wind as he traversed up and down mountains, through snow covered forests with little to no shelter, but he finally made it. Right before nightfall, he approached the edge of the town you grew up in. The town your parents still lived in ten years ago. The town that holds a history of you and everything you hold dear.

It was too dark and he was too tired to enter the town and go any further, but fortune smiled upon him for the first time since he left Jackson when he spotted a dilapidated woodshed tucked into the forest. It was small, no bigger than a bedroom, but it would do. It would be the first time in two days he would get to sleep with a roof over his head, and he desperately needed it.

He grossly overestimated his ability to survive out in the wild. He did it before, of course, but life in Jackson made him soft. Made him complacent. Made him weak.

Time took its toll on his body. His age was an offensive reminder every time his knees creaked or his back twinged. He wasn't as fast as he used to be, nor as strong. But he was determined and stubborn, two things that would never change.

With hands trembling from the cold, he jabbed his knife into the lock and broke it with ease, a small triumph in an otherwise unforgiving journey. The shed was mostly empty, save for a pile of wood and an axe. Plenty of room for both him and the horse.

After he scattered some oats on the floor, he grabbed his rifle and marched back out into the snowy tundra to do a perimeter check, knowing he would fall asleep the moment he allowed himself to slow down. By the time he deemed the area safe, he retreated back into the woodshed and lit a fire in the tiny furnace to warm up a bit.

Once he got feeling back in his fingers, he cracked open some stew and ate it cold straight from the can, too impatient to warm it up and too eager to get some rest. The wind howled outside, practically screaming at him with every gust: How could you say that to me?

The horse nickered softly, her head lowered, one back leg cocked as she began to doze off. He laid on the wooden floor, partially resting inside his sleeping bag, ready to strike if there was an intruder. The back of his wrist laid against his forehead while he stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering for the umpteenth time if what he was doing was even going to work. If he would even be capable of finding your house in this town, let alone finding any pictures still in good enough condition to bring back to you.

But it was all he had.

You had mentioned to him when he was sick, after you saw the photo of Sarah, how you wished you had pictures of your family. You looked so somber and distant and he was once again reminded that even though you lost them ten years ago, in your mind you only lost them months ago.

He couldn't imagine losing Sarah twice. Waking up one day, thinking she was alive and healthy and late for school just to be told she was killed mercilessly ten years prior and died in his arms. You were so much stronger than him. You always were. You were told your whole world changed, your family gone, and then tossed into a house with him, pressured by everyone every damn day to regain your memories and become a completely different person when he knew deep down if the same had happened to him, his answer would lie at the end of a barrel. But unlike before, he might not flinch.

You really fucking hurt me, Joel.

He rubbed his face aggressively, the pain and anguish in your voice haunting him. This trip left him with too much time to get lost in his thoughts, too much time to wallow in his grief and replay every single painful memory from the past several days.

Sighing, he dropped his hands to his chest and tried to think about something else. Letting his eyes drift shut, he let his mind wander back to before. Before your accident, before he fucked everything up, back to a time when you were happy and stupidly in love.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" he heard your voice behind him.

He grinned as he stirred a pot of sauce on the stove while you wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face against his back.

"My accent rubbin' off on you now?"

You giggled and let go, walking over to grab the bottle of whiskey and pouring you each a glass.

"Maybe."

You handed him his glass and clinked them together before taking a sip.

"How was patrol?" he asked, turning his attention back to the pasta.

"Boring," you replied, hopping up onto the counter next to him, swinging your legs back and forth. "Jesse has a lot of work to do. He's not seasoned enough to be out there without one of us."

He nodded thoughtfully and lifted the spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. "Needs lemon," you said, licking your upper lip while he snatched a lemon from a basket in the corner of the kitchen and sliced it in half.

"Yeah, I know, but he's got potential. Just gotta get him to focus a bit more. Gotta be more aware of his surroundings."

You hummed and rubbed the back of your neck with a wince.

"You hurtin'?" he asked, but you shook your head immediately.

"Just tired."

"You sure?" he said while he strained the pasta. "I can rub your neck later."

"Oh, well in that case, yes. I'm absolutely aching over here," you said with a smile.

"Don't tempt me, baby," he told you, setting down the pot before wedging himself between your knees, his hands rubbing over your thighs. "Might not stop at your neck."

"Is that right?" you teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth playfully.

"Mhmm. First it's your neck, then shoulders," he said, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips, "then your back," he dragged his hands up your back and pressed you forward, nearly pulling you off the counter.

"Then what?" you asked breathlessly, arms loosely draping around the back of his neck.

"Before y'know it, you'll be pullin' at my belt, tellin' me you got an ache someplace else 'n you need me to stuff you full of my cock." His hands dragged up and down your back, his mouth nipping gently at your throat as you tipped your head back with a gasp.

"You know me so well," you murmured, a lazy smirk spreading across your face when you felt the urgency behind his touch.

"Yeah I do, baby," his words getting lost against your skin, "know you like the back of my hand. Know what makes you tick. What makes you feel good. Know what makes you scream my fuckin' name." His lips slotted over yours urgently, the pasta cold and long forgotten as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close.

"Take me to bed, Joel," you begged after you pulled your head away, breaking the kiss and then quickly latching onto his neck. "Need you. I want - shit!" you cursed when one of you accidentally pushed a plate off the counter and it smashed into pieces against the floor.

"Leave it, don't care," he said, picking you up and pulling your attention off the shards of ceramic littering the floor. "I'll clean it up later."

His eyes popped open, the echo of your giggle from that night bouncing around his skull. It was almost laughable now, thinking he felt lonely before compared to how he felt in the middle of fucking nowhere with only a sleeping horse to keep him company.

He wasn't stupid. He knew he would need to do more than bring home some pictures to convince you to forgive him. But it was a start, and maybe, just maybe with time, you would come to understand what you meant to him.

And if he was really lucky, he might end up meaning something to you, too.

It was stupid and it didn't mean anything.

That's what you kept telling yourself ever since Joel left and you found yourself curling up in his bed at night instead of yours.

His bed was more comfortable. His room didn't store the bad memories of your fight. It was simply easier to sleep there.

It certainly didn't have anything to do with the way the sheets still smelled like him. Like the soap you both used combined with the outdoors and a hint of his sweat. And on the third night when you picked out a flannel of his from the closet and wrapped it around yourself, it was only because it was a particularly frigid night.

You didn't miss him.

Well, you missed having another person in the house, sure. But you didn't miss him on some deeper level. Maria and Ellie were wrong. They had no idea what they were talking about. They had no idea what was going through your head, what you were feeling, what you were struggling with.

There was no possible way you could have feelings for Joel. Not after everything he did and said. Not after the lies and the cheating and the deception.

But then why, when you were struggling to fall asleep at night, did your mind always wander back to the way he looked at you in the meadow, or the way his arms felt wrapped around you on the back of the horse, or the way he made you laugh when you played Monopoly?

And why did it feel like a part of you left with him that night?

"Pathetic," you muttered to yourself, pulling the sheets tighter and rolling over onto your side, his soft, worn flannel like butter against your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the memories from your mind and instead, replaying what he told you about the hospital.

He almost killed you. He was seconds away from putting a bullet in your head and only after presumably begging for your life did he let you go, and then he had the nerve to keep that information from you not only once, but fucking twice.

He was protecting Ellie.

But he still shouldn't have lied.

With a groan, you rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling, sleep so far out of reach you didn't even feel like trying anymore. Then a thought occurred to you:

You weren't the only one he let live. There were two other people in Jackson who were there, who were shown mercy and didn't appear to hold any resentment towards him for it. In fact, they seemed rather happy with the second chance they were given.

You hadn't seen Ben or Lisa in a long time. The opportunity never presented itself for you to seek any perspective from them about that day.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

It took him a few hours to scope out the town and venture out of the woods, but by late morning he was heading down what looked to be one of the main thoroughfares in town, eyes squinting against the blowing snow as he tried to pinpoint the location of town hall.

All he remembered was your street name but he had absolutely no idea how to find it, so his plan was to break into the town hall and find a map. From there, he prayed Ellie's drawing was truly accurate enough to narrow down your parents' house.

He was freezing. His face was numb and his back was fucking killing him from riding so much, but he was so close. If he was lucky, he could find your house, get what he needed and head out all before nightfall. Maybe he could even spend another night in the woodshed. It wasn't so bad. At least he was warm.

As he continued to steer his horse down another road, he couldn't help but think Tommy was right about the storm. It was providing him some cover, just in case there were survivors around that wouldn't take kindly to his intrusion. He just hoped it would blow through in a day so his ride back would be clear.

After another thirty minutes of wind whipping at his face, the cold penetrating his coat and several layers underneath, he finally saw it. It was a smaller building than he imaged it to be, but the sign was clear. Hoping that the town size was as small as the town hall, he steered his mare down the drive and through the parking lot, making sure to take in his surroundings, confirming he was truly alone before he slid down from the saddle and trudged through the snow to the front doors.

He wiped away the snow from the window, peering inside before heading to another one and doing the same. It appeared to be empty so he tried the door, unsurprisingly finding it locked. He pulled out his knife and worked on the lock, his fingers stiff and his ears so cold he could barely feel them anymore. Finally, he broke the lock but when he shoved the door, there was something blocking him on the other side.

"Shit," he muttered, glancing around, kicking and dusting snow off the surrounding area, looking for a brick or a rock. Giving up, he grabbed his rifle from the saddle and angrily made his way to the nearest window, smashing the butt of his gun against the glass repeatedly until it shattered. He gasped for air, not realizing how much energy he was exerting before he continued, knocking out as much of the glass as he could.

Sticking his head inside, he looked around. The place seemed empty. It was quiet, covered in dust and debris. Untouched dust was good. It meant nobody had been there in a while. Human or otherwise.

He crawled through the window, taking great care to not catch on any jagged edges. He held his breath, ears straining for any noise that might give someone away, but all he heard was the howling wind outside. This is your fault. Still, he kept his guard up. He walked room to room, finding his way to the lobby and searching the front desk for a map.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he grumbled as he opened and shut each drawer in the desk, only pausing to snatch up an old protein bar and shoving it in his pocket.

With a sigh, he looked around the room. There were a couple benches, chairs that were moved and tipped over, papers scattered about but his eyes were drawn to the portraits on the wall. There were a few paintings of men he would never recognize, unknown sheriffs and mayors, and some framed pictures of the staff, but the one that really drew his attention was the large map on the wall next to the front doors.

It was a road map of the town. Simple, but it was all he needed. He rounded the desk and shined his flashlight over the map, studying it, searching for where he was before looking for your street.

"Grant Street."

"Grant?" he repeated, his fingers lightly skirting up and down your bare back.

"Mhmm," you confirmed, eyes closed, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips as you buried your face into his neck.

"That's funny," he said, his hand wandering past your waist and over your ass.

"Why's that?"

"Grant's my Mama's maiden name."

Your eyes opened and locked onto his. "Maybe it's fate, then."

Maybe it was.

Grant was only four blocks north. It didn't look like a very long road, either.

He could do this.

He was so close.

Lisa answered the door with the same look of surprise as before, although this time she was clutching needles and yarn in her left hand while the fire quietly crackled behind her.

"Hey," you said, arms wrapped around yourself as the snow storm continued to swirl behind you. "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Of course!" Lisa said, stepping back, "how rude of me. Can I get you something warm to drink?" She closed the door behind you and took a step towards the kitchen. "I just boiled some water for tea, it's still hot."

"Tea sounds lovely, thank you," you said as you hung up your coat and scarf, trying your best not to make a mess of melted snow all over her floor.

She told you to make yourself comfortable while she prepared your tea, so you wandered into her tiny living room, the space seeming a little larger now without your two imposing men.

"Where's Ben?"

"Working," she said, setting down a teacup and saucer next to hers. "I put a little sugar in it."

"Oh, thank you, that's perfect. I like it sweet," you replied, sitting down on the same couch as before and bringing the cup to your lips.

"I know, I remember," she said, and when she sat down and fixed her billowy top, you noticed for the first time the small bump protruding low on her hips.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and she followed your gaze.

"Oh, yes," her tone soft, "I'm due this spring."

"Wow. Congratulations, Lisa. That's wonderful, I had no idea. I thought I would have seen you from time to time at the infirmary," you explained, setting down your tea.

"Nick agrees to see me after hours, sometimes he makes house calls," she said, picking up her needles again.

You titled your head to the side. "Why do you want to be seen after hours?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes fixed on the yellow blanket she was making. "I still find it difficult sometimes to face some of the others in town, I suppose. I know I shouldn't but the guilt sticks with me."

"Guilt?"

Her eyes flicked up to yours and she shifted her weight. "I know Ben mentioned the Fireflies to you." She held out her wrist, showing you the small moth-like symbol tattooed there. "I'm not sure how much you know or remember-"

"Actually, that's why I'm here," you said, taking a deep breath. "Joel told me everything. About the Fireflies. About the hospital."

Her eyes widened, the needles abandoned in her lap.

"Oh."

"Yeah," you said, chewing on your lip and glancing at the fire. "He told me what he did there. Told me he spared us, let us go."

"Yes, he did," she agreed softly.

"Can you tell me more about that day?" you asked, dragging your eyes back to meet hers. "I'm having trouble understanding how I could have known this before and still managed to fall in love with him."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

You laughed dryly and shrugged. "I mean he almost killed us. He killed countless innocent people, friends of ours I'm assuming, and I'm expected to believe I just looked past it? We just looked past it?" You motioned between the two of you. "He's a murderer, Lisa. He-"

"We're murderers," she corrected, and you fell silent. "We killed innocent people. We helped lead a revolution that resulted in hundreds of deaths, and where did that get us? Nowhere! People weren't any better off. In fact, they were worse. Friends and family killed, caught in the crossfire, tangled up in this idea of freedom and safety and giving their lives to an empty cause."

You swallowed as you watched Lisa's face, her eyes fiery and her tone hardened, transforming into a different version of herself before your very eyes.

"What Joel did..." she trailed off as she thought back to that day. "We did bad things. So did he, but he single handedly cut the Fireflies off at the legs. He stopped the insanity, stopped the war, stopped the ridiculous experiments and half baked ideas to save the world, regardless of the lives lost along the way. You don't remember, I understand, but allow me to explain."

"Please," you begged softly, "please tell me everything."

She rested a palm against her swelling stomach and leaned back. "We realized we made a mistake pretty early on," she began, "but we didn't have anywhere else to go. We had been living in the wild for so long. We were tired and hungry and weak and we fell for it. Fell for the sales pitch when they found us. We were told we wouldn't have to fight, but they didn't tell us what they expected us to do."

"W-what did we do?" you stammered, sitting on the edge of your seat.

"We killed people. Innocent people, point blank. FEDRA soldiers. Civilians who ratted out our location for extra food for their family. Children-" her voice wobbled a bit as she looked down at her stomach. "Children who were experimented on, vaccine prototypes tested on, who became horribly disfigured a-and screaming in pain, begging to be put out of their misery-"

"Okay," you said, cutting her off and taking a deep breath, unable to hear much more. It was becoming clear why Joel kept this from you, and although you had a right to know, you were beginning to understand his motivation. He was trying to protect you.

"Anyway," Lisa continued, flicking a tear from her cheek, "we planned on getting out. We couldn't do it anymore. Then, Joel showed up."

You held your breath, waiting for her to continue.

"We were doing perimeter checks. Loosening a spot in the gate so we could sneak out later that night. Then we heard the gunshots. And at first, we thought some infected got in. It was the perfect distraction, so we grabbed our gear and made a run for it."

She paused to take a sip from her tea, her eyes looking miles away.

"We almost made it. We were in the parking garage loading up a vehicle when he snuck up behind us. Told us to lay face down on the ground with our hands behind our heads. We never saw him and it wasn't until later we found out he was all alone. The whole time we were convinced it had to have been a group of men. It seemed impossible for one man to do what he did, but somehow..."

She trailed off again and cleared her throat.

"He gave us a second chance when we didn't deserve it," she said solemnly. "You and Ben dealt with the weight of what we did far better than me. I still struggle with the guilt, I can't..." she looked up at you, "I hope you never remember."

A chill went down your spine and you nodded.

"Try not to hold it against him," she said, offering you a small smile. "We've all done terrible things. It's not all black and white."

It ain't black and white.

"Yeah, okay," you replied quietly, standing up from the couch, your mind reeling. "Thanks," you added, motioning to the tea before she walked you to the door, "and congratulations again."

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her belly, her green eyes sparkling. "I'm glad you stopped by. The truth is sometimes ugly, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve to understand the whole picture." You nodded and bent over to shove on your boots. "Joel's not a bad man. I'm sure he was just trying to protect you by leaving some things out about our past. He would have told you eventually."

When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em.

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that now," you said, shrugging on your coat with a wry smile.

The whole way home, you practically kicked yourself for not visiting Lisa sooner. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. But it finally felt like a missing puzzle piece was back in place and you could begin to make sense of your confusing feelings for Joel.

Ellie was incredibly talented.

He needed to make sure to remind her of that when he got home because even through the blowing snow, in near whiteout conditions, he was still able to figure out which house was yours because Ellie's drawing was so detailed, so accurate that it almost felt like he had been there before.

He was eager and impatient. He just wanted to get inside and get what he needed and leave, but before he did, he peered inside the windows and did a walk around the whole house three times, just in case. It was a small brick ranch and if the snow wasn't so thick, he would be able to see the black shutters framing the front windows, just like in the drawing.

He shouldered open the side garage door first, a pile of fluffy snow spilling over the hard concrete as he stumbled in and shimmied open the roll top door so he could bring his mare inside.

He pat her between the eyes, murmuring his thanks for being so damn tough and sprinkled some more oats on the ground before slipping inside the house.

The door from the attached garage led right into a kitchen, which, by the looks of it, was rifled through on more than one occasion. No doubt some survivors had come through over the years and turned the place upside down for anything useful, but that didn't matter to him. What he needed wouldn't be stolen.

Glancing at the fridge, he paused when he saw some photos stuck to the door. He leaned his rifle against the wall and shook his head, curls flinging melted snow over the dusty floor, then bent over to examine the pictures. Most of them didn't have you and he began to worry he was in the wrong house after all, but then he saw it: at the very top was a picture of four people, all wearing summer clothes and Mickey Mouse ears with the Cinderella castle in the background. A middle aged man and woman bookended a young man, lean but muscular with his arm draped around your shoulders.

You were younger, maybe still in high school, and your hair was longer and lighter, but he would recognize that smile anywhere.

He carefully plucked the photo from the fridge and brought it closer, his eyes raking over every detail of the picture, from the brightness in your eyes to the cotton candy pink sky behind you.

You looked so happy.

Nothing like the way you looked when he last saw you: broken and bruised. Ruined and dejected. Because of him.

You spared my life just to break my heart.

He blinked and pocketed the photo before turning around. The living room was in worse condition. It appeared someone must have stayed there at one point because the couches were shifted around, an armchair wedged in front of the door, cushions flung around haphazardly.

He had to move furniture out of the way, dig around a bit through broken bookshelves, but he managed to finally unearth an old photo album. Resting on one of the couch cushions with a huff, he took a few moments to flip through it, smiling now and then when he saw an especially cute picture of you. The wind outside was howling so loudly, the old house creaking with every gust that he couldn't hear when footsteps slowly crept up behind him and knocked him unconscious with the butt of his own rifle.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He knew better. He should have scoped out the inside of the house before getting distracted. But he was too excited and too eager to get what he came for that he forgot his own rules. And he took for granted the snowstorm would hide his tracks.

Now he was hunched over on the living room floor, leaning against the wall with his wrists tied behind his back while five raiders went through his things.

"Hey man, don't you like peaches?"

"Fuck yeah I do, give it here."

Joel groaned, the back of his head throbbing, thick, sticky blood slowly trickling down the back of his neck.

"He's waking up."

"Hey, princess, how's the head?" one said with a sinister laugh. Joel ignored him.

"You got some nice shit. Wanna tell us where your camp is?"

Joel opened his eyes and glared at the man in front of him, wearing a leather jacket and leather gloves and a black bandana pulling his dark, wiry hair off his scarred face.

"Fuck you."

The punch came fast and hard across his jaw, making him see stars for a moment. The other men chuckled and got back to dividing up his things.

"You wanna try that again?" the first man asked, crouching down in front of him. Joel tugged on the rope holding his wrists together. The knot was tight but it wasn't foolproof. He just needed a little time to loosen it up.

"Don't got a camp."

"Bullshit," the man barked, spitting against the wall next to Joel's head. "Ain't nobody out here with this kinda gear and a goddamn horse roughing it all alone. Now, just tell us the city and we'll take it from there. We'll even let you live."

He heard one of the other men scoff but the rest remained quiet, and if Joel wasn't already convinced they were planning to kill him either way, he definitely was now.

"Boise."

"Boise?" he repeated, and Joel nodded, twisting his hands behind his back, feeling the coarse rope burn against his skin. The man in the leather jacket sighed and hung his head before landing another blow, this time across the mouth. Joel's lower lip got snagged on his teeth and tore. Blood trickled down his chin as he angrily whipped his head back towards the raider.

"I told you what you wanted!"

"You fed me a bunch of bullshit is what you did," he said, kicking Joel in the ribs. He gasped for air, doubled over against the wall, coughing and spraying blood across the faded floral wallpaper. He wondered if your parents did the wallpaper themselves, if your mom picked it out, or did the house already come like that?

Joel tugged harder on the rope, feeling it start to give. He needed to stay focused. He needed to make every move count if he wanted to get out of this alive.

The raider pulled a revolver from the back of his pants - Joel's revolver - and flipped it over in his hands. Back and forth, back and forth. Then he leaned forward and pressed the barrel against Joel's forehead.

"I'll give you one more chance, asshole," he said, his dark eyes boring into Joel's, "tell us where your camp is or else I shoot you in the fucking head."

"What the hell was he doing here anyway?"

"Shut up, Mike," the guy in the leather growled, eyes still trained on Joel.

"No, but seriously. There's nothing in this house worth taking. We've been through this neighborhood months ago."

The raider's eyes flickered around the room and Joel tugged harder on his restraints when he looked away. Then the man spotted the photo album lying face down on the ground.

"What's this?" he asked, lowering the gun and picking up the album. He began to flip through it and Joel felt the rope finally give. The raider let out a low whistle and slid a photo out to look at it closer. "Don't tell me you came out in the middle of a storm just to find something to jack off to," he teased, holding up a photo of you in a yellow bikini by a pool. He flipped the picture back around and grinned. When he went to stuff it in his pocket, his attention momentarily diverted, Joel took his opportunity to strike.

In the blink of an eye, he snatched the revolver from the raider's fingers and shot him in the temple, his body immediately falling limply to the side. Wet, sticky blood sprayed all over Joel's hand but he just tightened his grip on the gun, taking aim and bringing down another one of the men while they were still too stunned to move.

"Fuck!" one of the remaining three men screamed as they scrambled for cover. Joel ducked behind the couch and held his breath, straining to hear the scuffling of their boots, trying to pinpoint where they were in the small room. When he heard one of them accidentally knock against the kitchen table, the wooden legs scraping against the linoleum, he straightened up and took aim, taking out another man with a bullet right between the eyes, but unfortunately one of the last two men got a shot in as well.

The bullet grazed against his left bicep. Joel hissed and ducked back behind the couch. He would deal with it later.

"Come on, man, we can work something out," one of the men called out after a minute. "Let's just go our separate ways. Act like this never-"

Joel jumped up and shot the man in the cheek, the bullet traveling through his mouth and out the back of his head, leaving brain matter that looked like globs of gelatin dripping down the kitchen cupboards after he fell lifelessly to the ground.

Joel stepped towards the kitchen, now only one on one. He got cocky. He was feeling too confident with how quickly he took out the group. He didn't even see it coming when the knife lodged into his side, just above his hip. Without thinking, he yanked the knife out, twisted around and jammed it into the final raider's throat, watching as he fell to the floor, choking on his own blood, and didn't look away until he stopped twitching.

Adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he used it to his advantage, his left hand pressing weakly against his wound, the wound in his arm preventing it from being very effective while he searched the dead bodies of the men for anything useful. He had brought some first aid with him when he left Jackson but he was too far from home, he would need antibiotics, at least, if he was going to make it back.

Of course, he came up empty, so he snatched his first aid kit from the table and stumbled down the little hallway, searching for a bathroom. He knew it was a lost cause, the raiders already admitted to clearing the place out months ago, but he had to try.

He flung open the medicine cabinet with a grunt, the pain beginning to set in now. Pressing his bloody fingers against the stab wound as hard as he could, he rummaged around the cabinet, leaving paths of red everywhere his fingers touched, then tried the drawers under the sink.

Nothing.

"Fuck," he muttered, collapsing onto the cool tile floor as he began to sort through his first aid kit. There were no towels left but he was sitting on an old bathmat. He groaned in pain when he lifted his hips to pull the bathmat out, shook out the dust and dirt, then pressed it against his side, bringing his knee up to hold it in place.

With trembling fingers, he threaded a needle. He wiped the blood from his hands on his shirt, but they were stained red. Ripping open his jacket and flannel, he lifted the two other layers he had on underneath and lowered his leg to get a look at the wound.

It was deep and he was losing a lot of blood, but he was fairly certain the knife wasn't long enough to knick any organs. His stomach wasn't swelling, that was a good sign.

He only had a small bottle of antiseptic, so he used most of it to clean the wound and then the needle, saving a little bit to use on his arm later.

He took several quick breaths in, hyping himself up, then paused when he first shoved the needle through his skin. Tears sprung up, blurring his vision, but he blinked them away.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

In and out, in and out, he slowly stitched himself up. The angle was awkward and the stitches were ugly, but it got the job done: the bleeding stopped. His heart was hammering in his chest, sweat poured from the sides of his head, mixing with all the blood drying on his face and beard. He slumped to the ground with a pained groan, lying flat on the floor in a pool of his own blood, staring up at the ceiling. He just needed a moment to rest, a moment to catch his breath and then he would go.

Would he ever see you again? Would you ever even know why he came out there? Would you always wonder what happened to him? You told him you cared about him, but was that even true anymore? After what he did?

"C'mon, baby, gimme a sign," he whispered to himself, "gimme a sign that I still got a chance in hell 'cause if I don't, I'm not sure I got the strength to make it home." Tears welled up in his eyes again and this time he let them fall. He sniffled and waited. For what, he wasn't sure. Divine intervention? Genius to strike? A brilliant idea to form? But all he heard was the blowing wind outside.

The tile felt so cool against his burning hot skin. A small voice in the back of his head told him the longer he stayed there the weaker he would become, but he was just so tired. He rolled his head to the side, his eyes about to slide shut when he saw it: a dusty, opaque orange bottle rolled all the way against the wall underneath the sink.

Blinking a few times, he wondered if he was imagining it.

He wasn't.

Stretching his arm out, he slowly reached underneath the vanity and pulled out the half empty bottle. Holding it above his face, he squinted at the letters on the faded sticker.

Penicillin. Use as directed by your dentist.

His breath caught in his throat when he read your name on the label.

He finally got his sign.

"What happens when we die?"

"What?"

You rolled over onto your side to face him, wrapping your arm around his waist. He looked so peaceful, lying in bed like that. His eyes closed, face relaxed. You repeated your question.

"Don't know," he said, cracking open one eye to look at you. "Haven't died yet."

You giggled and he smiled, pulling you closer. He smelled so good. Like the rain and sex and smoke from the fire.

"I mean... do you think there's a heaven?"

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, his fingers lightly trailing up and down your bare arm.

"Yeah, I do."

You swallowed nervously and drew invisible circles into his skin, making him shiver.

"Do you think..." you trailed off and he froze, picking up on your tone.

"What, darlin'?"

"Do you think we'll make it? To heaven, I mean?"

His eyebrows pinched together. "Why wouldn't we?"

"You know why," you replied softly, "we've done bad things, Joel."

"Yeah, but we ain't bad people," he reminded you, then rolled over, pushing you onto your back so his arms caged you in. One knee slotted between yours and you spread your legs, hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, dipping his chin down and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You sighed, your shoulders finally relaxing. "Besides, this is heaven right here," he murmured against your mouth, feeling you smile.

"Ain't nothin' better than this."

You awoke with a gasp, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. That was the first time you had a dream about Joel, and something about it made you uneasy.

You had slept in his bed the entire week, wrapped in his clothes, and today was the day you had expected him to come home. Shrugging off the dream to no more than your subconscious fixated on his return, you forced yourself to get out of bed, fixing the sheets so it wouldn't look like you had been sleeping there and then headed to your room to change and freshen up.

The past couple days you had secretly hoped he would come back sooner but you refused to let it show. If Ellie or Dina or Maria asked you about it, you played it cool, or at least you thought you did. But every night you stayed up as late as you could, curled up on the couch all alone, waiting. Every time someone walked by, your body stiffened and your pulse raced, expecting to hear his heavy footsteps walking up the porch, but they never came.

But today was the day. The seventh day. His note said a week, and you knew if Joel was alive, he would stick to his word.

His absence afforded you a lot of time to think. Time you didn't realize you desperately needed, and now that you were able to process everything clearly without his overwhelming presence muddying the waters, you felt confident you knew what you wanted now.

All day at work, you were distracted. Nick had to call your name repeatedly to get your attention on more than one occasion, and by the fifth time you felt guilty. He didn't say anything, though. He understood. By then, most of the town knew Joel had left. Word spread like wildfire, especially once the storm passed through. It didn't take a genius to figure out how difficult it would be to survive all alone in those conditions.

Then the rumors started.

You tried to ignore them, but it was hard. When people began drinking and getting loud in the dining hall, it was impossible not to hear.

When you heard a man claim he saw Joel's horse frozen in a river during patrol, you stopped going to the dining hall to eat.

It was dark, it was just a deer, Tommy had told you later after he went out to the river to check, but it still shook you up.

When the sun set on Jackson on the seventh day and Joel still hadn't returned, the fear began to take hold. Your stomach churned, making it impossible to eat the following morning. You had hardly slept, the bags under your eyes dark and heavy. Nick begged you to take the day off but you insisted you needed to stay busy, although it didn't help much. On your lunch break you tried to casually walk by the main gate, the one near the stables, hoping to catch a glimpse of him returning, but you had no such luck.

So you went back to work. You kept your hands busy, tried to keep your mind occupied, but it was impossible.

I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you.

You couldn't get those words out of your head. The guilt was weighing you down as you grew worried that was going to be one of the last things he ever said to you.

"Went on a date the other night."

"With who?"

"Cindy, from the kitchen."

Ricky laughed heartily and Andrew smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Shut up, man. We're on watch, we can't be giving ourselves away."

"It's the middle of the goddamn night and we haven't seen any infected in weeks. It's too cold for them, they're all frozen somewhere waiting to thaw in the spring," Ricky said, shouldering his rifle.

"Yeah, but still. You never know. There's more than just infected out there."

Ricky chuckled and shook his head. "Tommy telling you ghost stories again?"

"Raiders ain't ghost stories, asshole," Andrew shot back.

"And raiders never make it this far up the mountains, asshole," Ricky replied, mocking Andrew's tone.

Andrew grumbled under his breath and strolled away from the tower, towards the gate, his eyes scanning the treeline. He couldn't see a damn thing. It was pitch black and deathly quiet.

He turned on his heel and began the slow walk back towards the tower where he could see Ricky unwrapping a granola bar and pulling a paperback book from his back pocket.

Just as he was about to chastise him for letting his guard down, he heard twigs snapping in the woods. He whipped around, bringing his rifle up so he could get a better look with his scope.

"What the hell was that?" Ricky's whisper materialized in his ear.

"Dunno. Something's out there."

Ricky lifted his own rifle and scanned the trees as well, both of them holding their breath, waiting for another noise.

"Maybe-"

Then they heard more twigs snapping and pine trees raking against fabric. Louder this time.

"Fuck," Ricky muttered nervously, his palms growing sweaty inside his gloves.

"There," Andrew said lowly, and Ricky followed his aim. Something was approaching in the dark. Something big.

"I got it."

"No, just wait a second," Andrew said, squinting through the scope. Then his jaw went slack when he realized what it was.

"It's a horse."

"What?"

"It's a fucking horse, bro," Andrew repeated, his voice rising a little.

When it finally emerged from the forest, they saw the rider slumped over, covered in snow, their face buried in the horse's mane.

"Holy shit," Andrew said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and racing towards the ladder. "Radio Tommy!"

"W-what do I say?" Ricky stammered, fumbling with the radio dial.

"Tell him it's Joel!"

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simpee9000 · 3 months ago

Text

Not Just Friends - 8 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Words 2.6k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

"It's been two weeks," you pointed out, telling yourself and him.

"That doesn't mean you have to be okay already," Katsuki huffed at you, crossing his arms as he leaned against the makeup table in front of you.

You were going on for the interview that you promised that night. Truth quirk and all. They were prepping you right now for it, covering the dark circles under your eyes as they made sure to add highlights.

"I go back to work tomorrow, I want everything to be dealt with before hand," you dismissed. You wanted your plate clean so you could throw yourself fully back into work, you were itching to use the equipment. "Besides, Aizawa is here. He'll make sure to turn off the truth quirk if needed."

He grumbled, watching you intently as you got up, makeup finished and TV ready. "I don't like this." He didn't want you to go back to step one, even if you claimed to be fine.

"I know," you patted his arm, he's been trying to convince you not to. But his PR manager advise you to do it, knowing if you switched up that the public would think the worst.

An assistant knocked on the door, peeking through when you told them it was okay. "You're on in five," and with that, they left.

You swallowed nervously. "It's not to late," Katsuki offered.

"I said I'd do it, so I will," you looked yourself over in the mirror one last time, brushing your clothes smooth before you walked to the door. Katsuki following behind as you waited behind the curtain, ready for your cue. You made eye contact with Aizawa who was on the other side, next to the interviewer with a truth quirk. You gave a small wave and gained a nod back.

"Remember that you can dodge the question, it's not considered lying," Katsuki informed you for the millionth time, going down his prep list, "I studied them, they make you say the truth but not blurt it, so you have time to form your words."

"And now we have Dynamight's girlfriend," the talk show host called your name, greeting you on stage. "She'll be giving us all the details of her juicy relationship with our number two hero! All under a truth quirk." You walked onto the stage, giving Katsuki a nervous smile before turning to wave at the crowd.

It wasn't your first interview but it was the first major one. A huge live audience that filled the room. You shook hands with Gossip, the hostess nickname for the public. Shaking hands with the truth quirk interviewer as well before sitting down. Aizawa stayed off stage, ready to cancel things if needed.

"Nell, here," Gossip called attention to the truth quirk, "Known as 'Spills' will activate her quirk and ask questions about her secret relationship with Dynamight." Nell waved at her introduction, smiling brightly. "We've opened questions to the audience as well, so let's get started," Gossip grabbed a stack of cards from her desk, nodding to Nell to start.

You crossed your legs, hands clasped in your lap as you waited for the effect.

Gossip handed Nell the cards to read out. "You were the one on the phone with Dynamight two weeks ago, correct?"

"Yes, called me while I was making dinner," you laughed trying to add anything you could to the questions because you wanted good press.

"How long have you been dating?"

"Three years," you answered easily, feeling the small buzz of the truth quirk in your mind, "Since second year of high school, even though I liked him way before that." Well, you haven't meant to say that, the truth quirk making the small bit of information slip out.

Gossip grinned at what you were saying. "And you've never liked Deku? No romantic feelings there?"

"He's like my younger brother, absolutely no feelings there," you confirmed.

"You don't even find him attractive?"

"I do, just not like that. I only have eyes for Katsuki really," you didn't even know why you were anxious at this point. Part of you was worried it'd make you slip up, say something in the wrong way and make it seem like you wanted him.

"How cute!" Gossip gushed to the crowd. "Well now that we have that settled, lets get to the nitty gritty." You paled at that.

Opening your mouth the protest before Nell interrupted you, "What about Dynamight annoys you the most?"

You rolled your eyes, "He leaves his socks everywhere. Literally only his socks, everything else he is a neat freak about."

"Anything else?" they pushed for something more.

"He literally argues with himself while getting ready, calling his teeth stupid for getting dirty," you ranted, glad you had no real issue with him.

Nell and Gossip shared a look, unsure of where to go. "What do you love most about him?" the decided to switch from negatives to positives, trying to feed his fan base.

"Oh," you paused, mind swirling with too many truths, "He remembers all the small things," you settled on, talking fondly, "He bought an extra chair for his office because he knew I hated the ones he had. He might not talk a lot but he does so much."

The crowd swooned at how fondly you talked of him.

"Why are you with him?"

"Cause I love him?" you questioned back confused, paleing when you realized you haven't directly said it yet. You've been together for three years and knew you loved each other, it was just hardly, if ever, spoken.

"How about we open questions to the fans?" Gossip turned from you and pointed at someone who raised their hand.

"What's Dynamight's biggest weakness?" the crowd called out, Nell immediately asking you the question.

You froze, Aizawa was being distracted and couldn't save you. You faintly heard Katsuki's loud foot steps coming up, trying to save you.

"He loves his back being popped," you answered, truthfully, the interviews losing the spark in their eye as you didn't give good enough gossip. "Seriously, he loves it. Practically melts afterwards."

Katsuki stood next to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to stand. "This shit is done."

"Dynamight," Nell called out as Katsuki dragged you away. The truth quirk likely making him stop. "Do you seriously love her?" She spit those words out in a manner that reminded you of the break in.

"Yeah, so fuck off," he barked over his shoulder, pulling you off stage.

---

In just the drive home, your phone was blowing up entirely. You were trending on Twitter, Tiktok, and any social media already. All they needed was an hour. You scrolled through TikTok as you curled in on the couch, swiping from one video of you to another video of you. People were gushing over your relationship, loving how he protected you and how you talked about him.

It turned the fan girls more on your side, having gotten a glimpse of your life with him. They concluded that you were one of them. You even saw videos of how you cheered him on during the first-year sports festival. They took any social media post with the two of you and over-analyzed it. Talking about how you looked at each other.

"Still looking at that shit?" Katsuki called from the kitchen. Currently packing up the leftovers of dinner.

"It's cute," you defended, "They found a photo of us during graduation," you lifted your phone over the couch for him to look, hearing him shuffle over to look.

It was a photo of you two hugging after the ceremony, probably seconds after he asked you to move in with you. "This is horrible for my image," he complained as he saw the caption, "Makes me look fuckin' soft."

You rolled your eyes, looking up at him from where he leaned over the couch, "You are soft."

He scoffed, "Sure."

Humming, you got up from the couch, moving to head to your room, wanting to grab a book from a box. You hardly unpacked, your room still empty as you've been spending the past few nights in Katsuki's room.

"Hey Kats," you called from your doorway, seeing more boxes in your room than before. Probably and entire third of boxes that you didn't put there, you were at work all day, busy with meetings while Katsuki got home early.

"What?" he asked when he met you in your doorway, looking over your room.

You stepped in, glancing into an open box and seeing Katsuki's stuff filling it. "What's all this?"

"Figured with you sleepin' in my room all the time we might as well share," he crossed his arms as he shrugged, leaning into the doorframe.

"Really?" you looked up at him, taking your eyes of the open box, lighting up inside as you looked at him.

"Why not?"

You've been waiting for this since he first asked you to move, but you knew that if you freaked out he would back out. You bit back a huge smile, joy seeping through your expression regardless. "Want to set things up then?" you offered, answering his unasked question of it was okay.

He didn't give an answer before he moved in the room fully, grabbing a box of his clothes and going into the walk in closet. You stepped out of your room, seeing how his old room was empty minus a bed. Smiling, you moved back into your room, grabbing another box of his clothes and placing it beside him before grabbing your own clothes and finally unpacking. You took two of the walls of the closet, him taking the last wall, having less clothes.

Cycling through each box until they were all unpacked, your room looking like a mixture of the two of you. His comforter but your sheets on the bed, pillows stacked the way you loved and his limited edition All Might alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. The dresser being spilt for the two of you with small touches of each of you adding to the room. Giving it personality.

It made you giddy, to see everything done up as a combined. You let a bright smile grace your features as you changed for bed, Katsuki showering in the connected bathroom while you slid under the covers. You grabbed a book from your nightstand and flipped to the bookmark.

Reading through the rest of the chapter before Katsuki came out of the bathroom, ruffling his hair under a towel as he walked in. Hanging the towel up and shaking his head like a wet dog to fluff it back up. He stayed shirtless, how he's been sleeping the past few nights, and only wore his boxers.

You eyed him over your book, watching his arms flex with any simple motion he made. Eyeing him as he walked to his side of the bed, slipping under the covers fully before wrapping his arms around your waist.

The motion was surprising, filling your stomach with butterflies as you accepted his hug. You were propped up on pillows, making it easier to read with the posture, his arm slipped easily under you, his other going under your book. He squeezed light, wearily of the wound that was still present on your left side.

"Your shower is so much better than the one in the hall," he grumbled, digging his face into your shoulder. His shampoo scenting the air as you leaned your head onto his.

"Our shower," you couldn't help but correct him.

"Do we want the old room to be your office? The other mine?" he questioned.

You closed your book, setting it on the nightstand as you held onto his arm. "Maybe one can be a guest room? Your mom called and said she wants to visit," you suggested.

"That hag been callin' you often?"

You slapped his arm for how he addressed his mom, "She's worried."

"Hm," he dismissed, "I don't care."

"The interview wasn't that bad," you changed topics, "Just made me say softer versions of the truth."

He took his head off you, moving to sit up so he could look at you, "They asked you about my weakness? Do you know how bad that coulda been?"

"But it wasn't, I did what I said and nothing bad happened," you matched his glare.

He rolled his eyes, falling back onto you.

"I surprised how cuddly you are," you said, not to tease but point out.

"Fuck off," he scoffed, moving to flip away from you. You hooked your arms over his shoulders, trying to pull him back but just got flipped back over with him, letting out a squeal of surprised. Situated right on his lap, close to his face. His hands held your thighs as you straddled him unintentionally. "'m not cuddly," he pinched your thigh.

"Sure," you teased now, "That's why you've been all over me."

"I can finally touch you, think I'm not going to take advantage of it?"

You pulled back, sitting up right on his lap as you looked down at him. Brows furrowed, "Is your watch always on?"

He shrugged, "Not always, but most of the time, 'round you."

Your stomach dropped, you moved to grab his hand and saw that it was on. Turning his quirk off. "You can't use it that often," you told him, worried.

"I turn it off before I sleep," he brushed off, moving his hand away from yours.

"When was the last time it was off around me?"

"When I was asleep last night," he answered easily.

"Katsuki," you frowned, "That's not good for you, you need to turn it off." You reached for his hand again.

He snatched it out of your hand, "The fuck's your problem?"

"I don't want every time you touch me you need that stupid watch on," you complained. It made you feel disconnected from him, like he had to hide his true self.

"It's not on all the fuckin' time," he argued.

"Then you should have no problem turning it off right now," you challenged. His face was all scrunched in distaste as he looked at you.

"I don't have shit to prove."

"You're using it as a crutch," you dug, "I shoulda never built it for you."

"So you would of prefered staying how it was? Don't want me to touch you?" he argued, getting frustrated that you were upset. Defaulting into anger.

"I'd prefer you," you clarified, "The actual you that doesn't need to suppress his fucking quirk."

"I don't need anything," he hissed, "I was doing it to make you fuckin' happy but now you're all bitchy about nothing."

You widdened your eyes, pushing yourself off his lap finally and moving to your side of the bed. "You'll kill yourself," you commented, "Not having access to your quirk is deadly."

"No I won't," he huffed, not moving from where he laided.

"You're right, cause you can turn it off," you decided, "I'm not going to touch you until I know it's off."

He sat up right, "Really?" he looked down at you.

"Yep," you popped the 'p', "I only made the watch for work training, not sex training like how you're using it."

"That's ridiculous," he tried to reason.

"Well, I'm going to be 'bitchy' about something that'll kill you," you crossed your arms, standing your ground.

He shifted, "So we're going back to square one? That what you fuckin' want?"

"Sure," your chest felt tight, hating how frustrated he was. But your side made sense. "I want you alive."

"I'm not going to die."

"Yep, cause I'm not encouraging you to turn it off anymore."

"Can't kiss you or anything then," he tried to threaten, failing to change your mind.

"Okay," you shrugged. Internally mourning the loss of it already.

"Seriously?" he was in disbelief.

"Goodnight Katsuki," you turned onto your side, making him unable to look at you anymore.

When he huffed and turned away you were worried he'd leave. Go back on sharing a room. Truly test how far you were willing to go.

But all he did was adjust onto his side of the bed, angrily turning his lamp off, darkness coating the room.

At least you had that, but who knows how long you would. You clutched at your chest as you sunk in on yourself. It would suck to go back to how it was two months ago. Not being able to kiss him, or hug him freely.

You've gotten so far and had to throw it away. But it was necessary. The nitroglycerin made his heart run slowly, he needed to have his quirk flowing or you didn't know what would happen. You weren't trying to risk it so you could feel him up.

---

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

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zepskies · 3 months ago

Text

Series Masterlist - Lost on You

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who's the predator, and who is prey.

Song Inspo: “Lost on You” by the Cubaneros (originally by LP)

AN: Oh, here we go! Get ready for another Boys AU. And in the immortal words of Cher, we're actually turning back time, to the '80s, no less.

Series Tags/Warnings: **18+ only! It's the world of The Boys, so angsty and messy, with morally gray and downright charcoal characters, including Soldier Boy, of course (and even the reader herself). **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, drug use, and other chapter-specific tags.

Chapters:

Part 1: Siren Song

Part 2: Foolish Game

Part 3: A Deal is a Deal

Part 4: Better Shape Up

Part 5: Eminence Front

Part 6: Drowned and Spellbound

Part 7: Welcome to the Jungle

Part 8: For Whom the Bell Tolls

Part 9: Free to Be You and Me

Part 10: I Need a Hero

Part 11: Heroes and Monsters

Part 12: A Fire in the Blood

Epilogue: As Good as It Gets

Series complete!

🎙️ Listen while you read:

The Lost on You Playlist: YouTube || Spotify

Lost on You Playlist Posters

"Interrupt the flow, they better not dare..."

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Join My Patreon 🌟

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List:

If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💚

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

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reidswhre · 2 months ago

Text

spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: it’s silly and fluff

a/n: this is the intro of episode 7 from season 3, i founded it so funny so i made this blurb.

“A popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimates that the hypermatter reactor would need about 10 to the 32nd joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of the Earth.” You didn’t exactly know what Reid was trying to explain to Morgan, but he looked cute.

Emily looked at you mockingly.

“Now, Lucas said it took 19 years to build the first Death Star, right?” Spencer looked at you.

“But if you look at The New Essential Chronology, there's a test bed prototype for a super laser that's been—” Morgan got up from his seat and headed toward Rossi’s new office.

“Where are you going?” Spencer asked Morgan, confused.

“Taking back the last five minutes of my life,” Morgan replied, and Reid made a face.

“I was listening to you.” You shrugged.

“I know you were, you always do.” He smiled at you.

“Don’t you want to know about this guy?” Morgan asked as he walked up the stairs.

“I do.” Emily quickly got up from her desk.

“I don’t! Are you kidding? No, no—This is dangerous.” You followed them.

You were starting to panic a little. Not for nothing, but this guy was pretty mysterious, and even though you might sound a bit like a people pleaser, you were dying to make a good impression on Rossi, and if he caught you snooping around his office, you two weren’t going to become friends anytime soon.

“I've got it all memorized. His books, his bio,” Spencer replied to Morgan.

“Yeah, books that sold over a million copies.”

“So?”

“That’s a million reasons not to come back, if you know what I’m saying.” Morgan explained to us.

I mean, of course, he was right. Why would a guy who had already ended his career years ago suddenly come back? He wasn’t going to do it out of kindness. But that wasn’t your problem.

“Huh!” Morgan exclaimed as he entered his office.

“Taupe walls. That’s a negative color.” Emily was analyzing it. “Cold. Distant. You know, emotionally, taupe is linked to loneliness and a desire to escape from the world.”

“I just figured the guy’s walls would be covered with plaques and commendations,” Morgan continued to Emily.

“Maybe he doesn't want to be reminded of past victories. It’s a new chapter for him.”

Spencer and you peeked into the office, you clinging to his arm.

“Whatever happened to the moratorium on intra-team profiling, guys?” Spencer asked the group.

“Come on, Reid. Team? I don’t think this guy knows the meaning of the word.”

“Probably not, but—We shouldn’t be here. What if he sees us?” You were quite scared.

“I don’t think he will, don’t worry.” Spencer took your hand, and you both entered the office.

“I found something. Looks like some type of religious art. Original maybe, definitely expensive.” Morgan showed us a painting in a frame.

You wrapped your arm around Spencer’s and leaned on his.

“It’s Renaissance art,” you replied to Morgan, looking at the painting in Spencer’s hand.

“If that’s original…” Spencer followed your lead.

“Is it?” Morgan asked.

“It’s kind of hard to tell, I mean, he’s into the classics,” you continued.

“What else?”

“Italian, strict Catholic upbringing, probably believes in redemption.” Spencer was pondering over the painting.

“I believe in a lot of things.” You heard a voice behind you, and it almost gave you a heart attack.

You lifted your head off Spencer’s arm, stepping away from him entirely. He gave you a puzzled look due to the distance.

“Catholic, yes. Italian American, 52 years old. Strict upbringing? Not so much.”

We shared awkward glances between us. This couldn’t be happening.

“Now the artwork? That’s 15th-century original, it costs more than my first house. And as for the wall color, it’s just a base coat, painters will come in and finish tomorrow.” He gave us an ironic smile.

You felt like you were about to die or something.

“Now, if you’re all finished, I think JJ and Hotch are ready for us,” he informed us. “Isn’t that how a team works?” This time he looked straight at Morgan.

You quickly ran out of there before the embarrassment swallowed you whole. Spencer followed right behind you.

“Hey! Wait for me.” You heard him behind you.

“Are you kidding me? I told you we shouldn’t have gone in! What a disgrace, I can’t believe it.” You turned to look at him. “What’s he going to think of me?”

“I don’t think he cares that much, really.” He took your hands in an attempt to calm you down.

“How could he not!? We snooped through his stuff! We profiled him! Oh, this is bad!”

Spencer laughed a little at you. “What are you laughing at!?” You frowned.

“I really don’t think it’s that deep, don’t worry.” He gave you a sincere look.

If you thought about it, it wasn’t that bad. He probably wouldn’t even mention it again, and it wasn’t like you did anything serious... at least you hoped so.

“You think so?” You looked back at him.

“Of course!” He smiled at you. “Come on, I’ll make you some coffee before we go to JJ and Hotch.” Spencer gave you a small kiss on the forehead, took your hand, and led you to the kitchen.

a/n: so this is how i was picturing Spencer and reader when they we’re watching the artwork.

so cute i’m dying!!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #request #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #mgg #mathew gray gubler #mathew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #fluff #spencer reid fluff

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twice-inamillion · 2 months ago

Text

The Company

Sisters in San Francisco

Smut (Deep penetration, forced creampie, doggy style, cowgirl, sister sex)

Chapter 16

4,340 Words

(Jessica asks you to visit her during the Lunar New Year. She also asks you to bring her sister, who dislikes you for getting her sister pregnant.)

”You’re coming to my place for Lunar New Year, right?”

”Yeah, I just need to take care of some things, and I can fly out tomorrow.”

”Also, can I ask you for a favor?”

”What is it?”

”Would you mind taking my sister?”

”Doesn’t she hate me?”

”Yeah, but there are no last-minute flights. Can you please take her?”

” Okay, I will, but if she complains, I’ll like her out of the plane myself.”

”Thank you, thank you! Let me get in contact with her and send her your details.”

———

The flight from Seoul to San Francisco was surprisingly a calm one. Krystal was fairly calm and kept to herself while you remained on the other side of the plane.

“Good Morning, everyone. It is 7:30 in the morning in San Francisco, California. We will be touching down in ten minutes. When we arrive, the care will be waiting for you all. Hope you enjoyed the flight, and we await your return.”

The plane arrives at the hangar, the door opens, and you are greeted by your chauffeur, “Welcome to San Francisco, sir.”

”Thank you.”

The chauffeur opens the door, helps with your belongings, and enters the car. “Where to sir?”

”Let’s head to Ms. Jung’s place.”

”As you wish.”

Krystal stares out the window, seeing their old home after not visiting for a while. Meanwhile, you text Jessica about your arrival from the airport, and the two of you heading to her house.

“See you soon.”

The ride to Pacific Heights is a smooth one, the sights of the Bay Area as you neared the house. The closer you got there, the bigger the Golden State Bridge looked. “We are arriving, sir.”

The car pulls towards the front of the house and parks. The chauffeur opens the car, and you see Jessica open the door and exit. Krystal runs towards Jessica and gives her a hug, “How are you, Jess? How’s the baby?”

“The baby is great. Growing pretty fast.”

“How was the plane ride?”

”It was okay; I behaved like you asked.”

Jessica looks towards my direction and asks, “How was she?”

”She was insufferable, but you know me, I managed.”

”He’s lying.”

”I know; he messaged me earlier and said you were good. He’s just teasing you.”

”Well… I don’t like it,” turning around and glaring at you.

The three of you enter the house to drop off your bag, “I found a place to have breakfast. We can head out in a bit if you’re all good.”

”I’m fine. Can I take a shower beforehand?”

”Sure, you can shower in the guest room.”

You walk the flight of stairs, take your bags to the guest room, and shower. Once you’re ready, you see Jessica and Krystal coming out of the room next to you, “You look nice.”

”Thanks.”

”Oh, by the way. I finished the nursery room that I mentioned to you before. Want to see?”

“Sure.”

She opens the door, and the color catches your eye. Everything in the room is cream in color, including the crib, furniture, and even the stuffed animals that are a shade dark. “What do you think?”

”It looks great.”

”Thanks, I wanted something simple and minimalistic. It took me a while for me to choose what I wanted.” Jessica gives you a small tour, showing you the clothes, toys, and the scrapbook she made for the baby.

You look at Jessica and see how happy she is, which hits you: you’re going to have a child with her. Her belly is much bigger from the last time you saw her, and her breasts have also gotten bigger, but her beauty is still the same.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asks.

”You’re so pretty, I couldn’t help myself.”

Jessica blushes at your response and covers her face.

”Ew, don’t do that while I’m here. If you are, you should get a room or something,” says Krystal.

”Maybe we should,” looking at Jessica. She turns to the side, trying to hide her reaction, but the redness on the tip of her ears makes it obvious.

“Alright, let’s change the subject and go have breakfast,” says Jessica.

Breakfast goes well, and the three of you enjoy the view and listening to the stories that Jessica has to share. Most of them are about her experiences throughout her pregnancy and her work life.

After breakfast, you all go for a walk around Chinatown and see the events of the day. You see the two sisters bonding and having fun, and it reminds you of your own family.

After a few hours, Jessica says, “Let’s head back; my feet are killing me.” You agree and take them back to the house. It’s already evening, and you have all decided to have dinner.

“Want me to cook, or should we order in?”

“You’re tired, so let’s order in.”

Krystal then says, “Let me order, I know a place that has good food.”

“Okay, Krystal.”

Jessica looks at you and says, “Let’s go to the deck and watch the sunset with me.”

“Okay, let’s go.” You help her out of the chair and walk out onto the deck. The two of you sit on a large couch, and puts her back against your chest.

“How have you actually been?”

“Tired, my feet hurt constantly, and I’m craving food a lot. It’s all your fault.”

“Haha, it’s both our fault, not just me.”

“You’re the one who got me pregnant.”

“True, but remember you were the one begging me to cum inside…”

Her head recalls the memory of those nights of sex. The number of times she got pumped full of baby batter made her face turn red.

“You’re thinking of it, huh.”

“No!”

You grab her and put her in between your legs, rubbing her thighs and whispering, “Remember how wet you got when I was fucking you that night?”

You slide your hand inside her dress, gliding your hand across her thigh as you kiss the side of her neck. She shivers at the slightest touch, “It’s been a while, huh.”

”What do you mean?”

”Since we last fucked.”

You continue to glide your hand until you reach her panties, pulling them aside. Jessica moans slightly to your touch, a feeling she hasn’t felt in a while.

“Don’t… Krystal might walk in…”

“That’s fine, let her walk in,” tracing your fingers against her folds. You feel her tremble the deeper you go, collecting nectar from the source.

“Please…” squeezing her thighs together.

“You’re so wet; you missed this, right?”

“Yes… it’s much more different when it’s real.”

You notice her heart beat faster and go in for a kiss. She finally lets loose and doesn’t care if her sister walks in. “Babe, I want you… I need you…”

Teasing her, you ask, “What do you want me to do?”

“You’re really going to make me say it huh.”

“Yes, I want to hear you say it.”

She whispers in your ear, “I want you to fuck me; I want to feel your cock inside me.”

“You’re bad, what about the baby?”

“Don’t worry, I’m stable.”

You press your fingers deeper until they disappear, “Ahh, aah, just like that. Keep going.”

Just then, Krystal walks out, “The food is here!” She looks at the both of you, her sister grinding as you have your hand inside her dress. “Eww! You two are disgusting; get a room,” and walks out completely flushed.

“Krystal, wait!”

“Don’t; she needs to understand that you have needs too.”

“I guess you’re right.”

You pull out your fingers and show her the amount of nectar you collected, “Do you think it’s healthy being this backed up?”

“No, it’s just that regular toys don’t work; it’s not the same as the real thing.”

“How about later tonight, I help you out?”, giving her a wink.

“I’d love that.”

The two of you walk to the kitchen and see Krystal setting up the table. She tries to avoid eye contact with the two of you initially, but after Jessica apologizes, they make up.

After dinner, you all play a couple of games to break the ice between you and Krystal. You’re surprised by how obedient she is to Jessica, but you assume it’s because of their close relationship and her pregnancy.

“Okay, I'm tired, Krystal. Let’s call it a night.”

“Good night, I’ll clean up here.”

Standing up from the table, Jessica grabs your hand and whispers, “I’m going to shower; come help me.” The two of you walk upstairs as Krystal tries to think of something else.

After taking a shower, she spends some time in the living room watching some videos. She looks at her phone, realizing how late it is, and decides to head up the stairs to her room.

As she gets to the second floor, she notices noises coming from the opposite side of her hallway. Curious, she makes her way towards the master bedroom and hears her sister moan. She puts her eye through the small slit and sees her sister in skimpy lingerie riding you.

“Ahh ahh, this is what I was missing. I missed your cock inside of me.”

Krystal was hypnotized by the way her older sister rode you, her pregnant cunt holding your cock tightly every time she bounced. Her swollen belly didn’t stop her from getting her needs satisfied.

“You feel so big inside of me…”

“Are you okay? Want to switch up a bit?”

“Okay, let me get a pillow.”

Jessica unmounts you and gets on the pillow you placed before her. Using it as support, she lays on top of it and gets on all fours.

Krystal’s eyes go wide when she catches a glimpse of your massive cock, wondering if it would hurt the baby.

“Jessica, are you ready?”

“Yes… just put it inside, don’t make me wait.”

You slap your cock against her ass cheek and align it in front of her entrance. Her leaking cunt welcomes you once more as it easily spreads for your length.

“Yes… that’s it… fuck… so big.”

“Omg, how does unnie fit that massive thing in her?”

You grab Jessica’s hips and insert the rest of your cock until she cries out from pleasure, “fuck, you’re hitting my baby room.”

She turns her head and says, “Put your weight on me and fuck me nice and slow; I want to feel it.”

Krystal sees her sister disappear under your frame; she moves her fingers toward her lower area and notices how damp her shorts are.

She loses track of time as she rubs her fingers against her shorts when she hears you warn Jessica, “I’m going to cum.”

“Do it inside; fill my baby room with your cum.”

You pull most of your cock out, only leaving the tip before sliding yourself back inside. Jessica groans from her walls being scraped and stretched, “Yes, just like that. Fill me, please!”

You hold her tightly as a stream of cum floods her womb, her walls tightening, taking every drop of cum as delicious nutrients.

Krystal watches as you pull out your cock, a large white load of cum oozing out her sister's cunt and onto her sheets. Jessica's expression was one of satisfaction after not having met her needs since the beginning of her pregnancy.

You head to the bathroom and clean up while Jessica remains on the bed, completely filled. She turns around and sees her sister looking through the door. She greets her with a smile. Wanting to tease her, she spreads her legs wider, giving her a better view of her leaking cunt.

On the other side, Krystal gets startled from getting caught by her sister. She sees you come out of the bathroom when Jessica says, “Up for round two?”

You reply, “I thought you were tired.”

“I am, but I want you inside me.”

“Alright, but let’s try to keep it down since your sister is going to nag at me if we’re too loud.”

“Don’t worry about Krystal, this is my house. I can do whatever I want here,” she said as she looked directly at her.

“That’s why I like you,” as you go in for a kiss. “Let me go downstairs and get something to drink. Want anything?”

“Just water is fine.”

You put on some shorts and head to the door. Krystal immediately stands up and runs to her room. She lies in her room, imagining her sister going at it, round after around throughout the night.

——

Krystal walks down the stairs after having a hard time sleeping. She couldn’t get the image of last night out of her room and ended up rubbing one out.

“Good morning, Krystal.”

“Good morning, unnie.”

“Where’s your baby daddy?”

“Don’t call him that; try to be nice to him.”

“Whatever.”

“He went out for a run. Said he’ll be back in an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll eat a quick breakfast and head out. I’m going to meet some friends.”

“Are you avoiding him because of last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know…”

Krystal’s ears turn beet red, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, maybe I’m wrong… have fun with your “friend…”

It is then when the door opens, and the two of them stand next to each other, “Welcome back,” giving you a small rag to wipe yourself.

”Wow, you worked up quite a sweat,” she said, touching her abs and arms as she looked at her sister. “Might ask for another round later on tonight,” and chuckles.”

”Wait… your sister is here.”

”Don’t worry, she doesn’t mind, right?”

You look at Krystal and see her beet-red ears, “Whatever, do what you want.”

“See…”

“I’m going to go change; my friend is going to pick me up soon,” and goes upstairs.

You look back at Jessica and ask, “Ohh, I didn’t know she was going out.”

”Same, maybe one of her girlfriends.”

”Too bad, with her attitude, she really needs a boyfriend.”

”You’re right.”

”Maybe she’ll fix that attitude of hers after a good pounding.”

Krystal walks down the stairs and shouts, “Alright, I’ll be back in the evening!” and exits the door.

———-

Krystal comes back home late at night, “I’m back.” Jessica, who is sitting in the living room reading some magazines, asks, “How was your day?”

”It was good, I just hung out with one of my girlfriends.”

”That’s good, no guy friends?”

Krystal is surprised by the question but replies, “Uhh… no.”

”That's too bad, you’ll find one soon,” caressing Krystal’s hair. She then asks, “You know what? Let's do this: take a shower with me like in the old days.”

Krystal reminisces when she and Jessica would do everything together, “Okay, let’s go.”

The two of them shower, engage in sister talk, and share their secrets with each other. Jessica talks about the hard time she had setting up her business, even during her pregnancy. “Look at me now, my belly is noticeable and I’m constantly horny.”

“It’s all his fault; he did this to you.”

”Don’t blame him. I knew what could have happened, but I still did it. Just a taste of his cock got me addicted to him,” as she lightly touches her cunt. She brings her fingers up to Krystal and says, “Just by thinking about him, I’m already wet.”

“Unnie, don’t; that’s disgusting.”

“Tell me, Krystal. When was the last time you got intimate?”

Krystal looks down and shyly says, “A bit over a year, maybe more.”

Jessica holds Krystal’s hand and asks, “Want to give him a try?”

“What?”

“He’ll make you feel real good.”

“But you’re having his kid…”

“I don’t mind sharing him, plus we’re sisters.”

“Ugh… I don’t think so…”

“I know you saw him fuck me from behind. I know you’re backed up as I am.”

“…”

“Do it for me. If you don’t like it, then I won’t mention it before.”

Krystal stays silent for a while and says, “Okay, just once, but if he cums in me, I’m going to punch him.”

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

The notification ding goes off, and you see a text message from Jessica, “Come to my room.” Curious, you head to Jessica’s room across the hallway and knock, “Come in!”

As you open the door, you see Jessica on the bed, leaning against the large pillows on the bed in her bathrobe. She lifts part of her robe and says, “Like what you see?”

You slowly walk towards her, “fuck yeah, I’m up for another round.” Jessica replies, “Maybe we should spice things up a bit.”

You hear the door close behind you and see Krystal turning the door lock. You turn back and see Jessica’s grin, “She doesn’t have a boyfriend, so I thought we could let her join our fun.”

Jessica looks at Krystal and says, “Show him how serious you are.” You turn around once more and see Krystal drop her bathrobe as well. She walks towards her sister, who is extending her arm, “Come sit, here.”

You see Krystal climb up the bed next to Jessica, “I know you two don’t get along, but both of you are important to me, so I think that this might bring you two closer.”

”I’m okay with it if she is.”

You look at Krystal and wait for her response, “I’m good with it too.”

”Okay, I want to watch the two of you get along, so take off your pants.” You drop your shorts and extend your hand towards Krystal.

She slowly reaches for your arm, and you lead her to the middle of the room. Standing in front of one another you part Krystal’s hair to the side and kiss her neck. She squints from the awkwardness of your kissing but after a while she loosens up.

You reach for her bathrobe belt and unfasten it, causing it to drop and reveal her nude body. She tries to cover her breasts and lower area, but you part her hand and instead lead her to the bed.

Her demeanor changes, she becomes compliant to your advances and lays on her back. As you climb onto the bed, you get on top of her; she feels small compared to your frame and becomes nervous about what you’re going to do.

You cup on her breast and kiss her collarbone, making her slightly moan. With your other hand, you slide it down towards her folds and gently rub her lower lips.

Meanwhile, Jessica watches as her sister begins to enjoy your foreplay, being considerate of what’s to come. She loosens her bathrobe, exposing her breasts and gently rubbing them.

Feeling some wetness coming from Krystal’s lower area, you stop your advances and move towards her legs. You spread her legs, move forward and grab your flaccid cock in your hand.

Krystal feels your flaccid cock smacking against her cunt; it’s heavy but average. She tells herself it’s not that big, not as Jessica described it.

You slowly insert the tip into her entrance and slowly move more inside of her until it’s halfway in. Krystal makes an uncomfortable expression but gets adjusted to your flaccid cock.

“I’m halfway in. Are you ready?”

“Sure, you’re not that big anyway.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, my last boyfriend was this big.”

Jessica tries to tell Krystal to shut up and not taunt but it’s too late. You pick Krystal up and pin her against the wall. She smiles, thinking that she might have hit a trigger, but that smile immediately disappears as she feels something growing inside of her.

Krystal groans as her walls stretch to its maximum, your flaccid cock turning into a rod of steel. She’d never experienced this type of pain and pleasure before, not even when she lost her virginity to her previous boyfriend. “Ahh… what the fuck, it’s getting bigger inside of me. You’re going to break me!”

With her face against the wall, you pull her hair, tilting her head, and begin to thrust. “Fuck, you’re too big, pull out!” Her feet tremble from your massive size cock going in and out of her small cunt. You continue to pull her hair and thrust until he has no energy in her legs.

You let go of her hair and pick her up, tossing her onto the bed where her sister is. She looks at Jessica, and all she says is, “I told you to keep quiet.” Krystal looks back at you as you climb on the bed.

“Let’s go for the main event. Get ready because I’m going to make sure I break you in like I did your sister.”

She looks at your throbbing cock, veins fully showing, “Get that thing away from me!”

Instead, you give her a devilish grin, causing her expression to change. You place her legs on your shoulders and smack your length against her cunt. “Think this is the same as your boyfriend?”

Krystal can already feel how heavy your cock is just by it being smacked on her cunt. She knows that if she’s fucked by this monstrosity, there’s no turning back. “Wait… I’m Sorr…”

Her eyes go wide as you ignore her plea and shove your cock inside her small cunt all at once. Her body spasms from the impact, her belly bulging as if she were pregnant like her sister.

*Cough, cough, cough*

She turns her head to her sister, who is sitting next to her, watching. Jessica moves her fingers towards her cunt, rubbing it slowly as you begin to thrust inside of Krystal. Every time you thrust inside, she sees the large outline of your cock. She didn’t know that someone could be this big.

“How do you like his cock, little sis.”

“Ugh… it feels like my organs are getting rearranged every time he goes inside me. I’m scared Unnie…”

Jessica doesn’t reply; she’s too preoccupied with touching herself.

“Your sister is not going to help you. You put up a strong front, but in reality, you’re just cock hungry like her.”

She sees you putting her into a mating press, smacking your cock at her entrance once more. “Wait… I’m sorry. Be more gentle!”

Krystal coughs uncontrollably as you split her wide open. She begs for you to slow down, but it’s to no avail as you’re determined to make her crazy. “Take this fucken cock. Feel as your womb takes the shape of my cock, haha.”

Jessica increases the pace of her fingers as she rubs her folds while watching you fuck her sister. The way Krystal struggles to take your cock reminds her of herself before her pregnancy.

She tells herself,” I can wait for the baby to be born. I want him to fuck me like that one night.”

You continue to fuck her roughly, her pleading turning into a scene of a complete mess. Her eyes roll back from the intense pleasure, and her body limb like a human fuck doll. This new sensation is foreign to her; not even her previous boyfriend made her feel this way.

Suddenly, she loses control of her body as it begins to shake violently. “I’m cumming!” Her walls tighten and release a wave of ecstasy as she coats your cock with her liquid warmth.

You pull your cock out and see her juices spill out, “what’s a complete mess.” She continues to spasm and turns to see Jessica.

“I’m going to cum on her face, haha.”

She looks at you with a heavy expression and replies, “Do whatever you want.”

“Fuck, if that’s the case, then the only way is directly into the source.” You grin at Krystal’s defenseless state and place your cock above her entrance. She turns to you, barely able to open her eyes when she sees you align yourself and tries to push you away.

She’s seen that expression before, the expression of a man who is ready to cum inside of a woman. Luckily, the previous times have been with a condom as she’s trying to avoid any unnecessary pregnancies.

Just as you’re able to insert your cock, she regains her rationality. “Wait, what are you doing? Do it outside, cum outside, please!” She pushes your hand away and looks at Jessica for help but is lost in her own pleasure.

“Sorry, but your sister gave me the green light.”

”Stop! Don’t cum inside me, please. I don’t…”

Krystal’s eyes widens, and she coughs aggressively as she’s suddenly stabbed with your massive cock.

“Maybe getting your womb filled with cum will turn you down a notch.”

A wave of cum flows into Krystal’s womb. It’s her first time tasting cum without protection. An overwhelming amount of thoughts are running through her mind. She’s trying so hard to prevent any problems and made her ex-boyfriend wear protection during sex just so she could get forced creampied by you.

She imagines the worst-case scenario: her getting impregnated by you just like you did her older sister. That would be the end of her career.

“It’s over; my life is ruined,” says Krystal as she passes out from shock.

———-

Krystal wakes up much later and sees her sister riding you. Her expression is one of a wild woman losing herself in heavenly pleasure.

“You came so much inside my sister; you might have impregnated her, you know.”

”Haha, jealous?”

”No, I just don't know what my parents are going to say about that.”

”Let time tell, but I wouldn't mind seeing two sisters have my child.”

Krystal stays hidden from the both of you, only to fall back to sleep with your cum inside her womb.

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deliciousangelfestival · 2 months ago

Text

The Imperfect Couple - 6

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“How long have you known him?” Bucky’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching every reaction.

“Five years,” you answered, keeping your tone steady. You didn’t want him to pick up on any hint of tension.

Bucky frowned, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. Ian seemed like a typical journalist, but something else about him gnawed at Bucky's instincts.

He rarely interacted with foreign reporters, so why did Ian’s presence feel… off? He was sure he'd figure out why this feeling wouldn't leave him.

Before either of you could say more, Greg appeared, clipboard in hand, and gave you both a pointed look. “Alright, you two, time to get ready. The event’s about to start. Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly.”

You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir. You’d been on stages before, but not like this. Not with Bucky, not under the gaze of an entire country.

Bucky noticed your hesitation and moved closer, placing a firm hand on your lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

You looked up at him, trying to read his eyes. Was he just saying that for the cameras? Or was there something deeper there? It was getting harder to tell. You nodded anyway, more for yourself than for him, and straightened up. You had to play your part, just as you always did.

At the Convention

The large venue buzzed with excitement, lights shining down on the stage like spotlights in an arena. When Steve Rogers walked up to the podium, the room went silent, all eyes on him. He was the golden candidate—charismatic, confident, the embodiment of what the people wanted.

The room buzzed with anticipation as Steve Rogers approached the podium, every eye in the venue locked onto him. He stood tall, his presence commanding, radiating the quiet strength he was known for. After a brief moment, he began speaking, his voice steady but filled with passion.

"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans," Steve’s voice echoed with gravitas, "Today, we stand at the threshold of a new era. We face challenges that require not just strong leadership, but leadership rooted in integrity, honor, and the unyielding belief in the power of the people."

The crowd quieted further, hanging on his every word.

"For too long, we’ve watched division grow. But I believe in the strength of unity, the strength of standing together—one nation, bound by a shared responsibility to protect our freedom, our families, and our future. And I pledge to lead with the same unwavering commitment that I’ve given to this country my entire life."

He took a brief pause, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, his tone growing more impassioned.

"I am not just here as a candidate, but as a father, a husband, and a son," he said, gesturing toward his wife, Peggy, and their children standing nearby, his parents behind them. "I want a better world for my family—just as I want a better world for yours. A world where opportunity isn’t reserved for the few but shared by the many. A world where every child grows up in safety, with access to education, health, and the opportunity to pursue their dreams."

The applause began to rise, but Steve held his hand up gently, signaling for quiet once more.

"This is not just my campaign. This is our campaign. Together, we will fight for a future that respects the dignity of every individual. We will build an America where justice is not selective but a right for all. Where leadership is about service—not power."

His voice crescendoed, igniting the room.

"Because I believe in us. I believe in the promise of America, and I believe in the strength of the American people. Together, we will rise to meet the challenges of today, and together, we will create a brighter, fairer, and stronger tomorrow."

The room erupted into thunderous applause as Steve’s words settled over the crowd. He stepped back, waving, as Peggy and their children joined him at the front of the stage, a living testament to the family values he championed.

With that, Steve Rogers sealed the moment—an electrifying speech that echoed far beyond the walls of the convention hall.

The crowd erupted into applause as Steve stepped aside, making way for Bucky.

Now it was his turn.

You watched as Bucky walked to the podium with the practiced ease of a man who was born for this. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, the overhead lights catching the sharp angles of his face. As soon as he began speaking, the room hushed again.

“I want to thank everyone for being here today,” Bucky started, his voice strong, yet warm. “Serving alongside Steve has been the honor of my life, and I am proud to stand here as the candidate for Vice President. My family—my parents Julius and Caroline, my siblings Shawn and Hazel, my nephew Nate, and my brother-in-law Tim—are with me today.” He motioned to the side, where they all stood. Caroline’s expression was as rigid as ever, while Julius offered a rare smile.

Then Bucky’s eyes found you.

“And of course, my wife. She’s been my rock. She’s stood by me through the hardest times, and I can’t imagine being here without her.” His voice softened, but the sincerity in his words cut through the noise in your head.

You smiled on cue, the kind of smile you’d perfected over years of practice. But inside, everything felt muddled. Bucky spoke as though you were his whole world, but you knew the truth. This was a performance. A calculated move to protect his image.

The applause was thunderous, but it sounded far away as you fought the emotions swirling inside you. Bucky looked the part—strong, dependable, built for this kind of role. He was doing everything right.

But you? You were pretending. The smile you wore for the cameras wasn’t for him; it was for the part of you that wanted to see Caroline suffer, to see her envy every look Bucky gave you on that stage. But underneath the spite, you felt something deeper, something far more complicated.

'Can I really keep doing this?' The question lodged itself in your mind as the applause rang out again.

You watched Bucky continue his speech, looking every bit the man of the moment. He thrived in this atmosphere, while you felt like you were drowning in a sea of lies. Every glance from the audience, every flash from the cameras, reminded you that none of this was real.

When he finished, the room erupted in applause again. Bucky turned to you, offering his hand. The warmth of his palm against yours was meant to be reassuring, but it only deepened your confusion.

As you both exited the stage, his grip tightened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He leaned down, voice low in your ear. “You did great,” he whispered. His words were laced with a strange tenderness that made your stomach flip.

You nodded, but deep down, the weight of this act was crushing you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the convention wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, you and Bucky maneuvered Tim’s wheelchair carefully. The excitement of the day was still buzzing in the air, but you could sense the underlying tension between Bucky and Ian as Ian approached you and Tim.

Ian greeted you with a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m working on a piece about the election from the perspective of the candidates’ families. What’s it like for you and your family during all this?”

Bucky, standing beside you, made a subtle move to place himself between you and Ian, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed. “I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Bucky began, but Tim cut him off.

“Of course! I’ve never been interviewed before. It’ll be good to share my side,” Tim said eagerly, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Bucky looked at Tim, then at you, his frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. He sighed and stepped aside, unable to argue with Tim’s excitement or your reluctance to refuse a friend’s request.

Ian turned to you, his expression curious. “You never mentioned your brother before. It’s clear you two have a strong bond.”

“She’s a private person,” Tim interjected with a hint of pride.

Ian raised an eyebrow, glancing back at you. “You really seem to know her well.”

“We may not always show it, but we’re very close. She’s been like a second mother to me, especially after I lost my leg,” Tim said, his voice carrying an unusual warmth.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the unexpected praise from your brother. It was rare to hear him speak so openly about his feelings.

Ian smiled as he jotted down notes. “This story is going to resonate with a lot of people.”

After a while, Tim excused himself, leaving you and Ian alone. Ian’s demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more serious.

“Thanks for giving him the chance to speak,” you said with a slight edge. “You know, it feels like you just handed him a chance to embarrass me.”

Ian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Isn’t that what siblings do? Cherish these moments of difference before it’s too late.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean,-?”

Before you could ask, Ian pulled you aside, his face set with determination. “I heard there’s a divorce in your marriage.”

You stiffened, your eyes widening in surprise. “How did you find out?”

Ian’s smirk was almost smug. “Don’t underestimate my skills. You vanished, then reappeared, acting like everything’s perfect. I pieced it together from the campaign.”

He leaned closer, his frustration evident. “Not once did you mention him. And now, suddenly, you’re playing the loving wife. It’s irritating.”

You crossed your arms, feeling a wave of anger and discomfort. “Are you planning to use this information?”

Ian’s expression softened, though his eyes were intense. “I don’t know yet. But a few people already know.”

You flinched at his words, a shiver running down your spine.

Ian’s voice dropped to a reassuring whisper. “Don’t worry. They’ve only heard rumors. No one has solid evidence. I could protect you. Because you deserve someone better.”

You gulped, unable to speak. Ian’s concern seemed genuine, but you couldn’t shake off the pain from your marriage with Bucky. Your emotions were still tangled, and you didn’t want to get involved with Ian’s feelings, especially now.

You glanced up and saw Bucky watching you from across the room. His eyes were locked on you, his gaze sharp and intense. It felt like he was assessing every movement, every word. The tension in his stare made your heart race, and you could almost feel his frustration and jealousy from afar.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the car sped through the night, the backseat felt increasingly cramped, the air thick with unspoken tension. You stared out the window, trying to avoid Bucky’s piercing gaze. The city lights flickered past, a blur of neon and shadows, as you stewed over the conversation with Ian and the unresolved questions it left.

Bucky's silence was more oppressive than any words. His jaw was set tight, and the muscles in his neck were rigid. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, laced with an edge of command. “Don’t meet Ian anymore.”

You continued to look out the window, your reflection a ghostly image against the darkened glass. “He knew about the divorce,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s breath hitched, his grip on the seat tightening. He was silent for a moment, the weight of your revelation settling in. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Well, that means I’m on the right track. Every politician has skeletons in their closet.”

You turned your head sharply to face him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not afraid if the rumor leaks out?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady, but his jaw tightened slightly. “I’m not gonna lie, I am afraid. But I’m more worried about how it’ll affect you.” He paused “But look at the bright side. It narrows down the list of people who knew about our marriage.”

You turned to him, eyes narrowing in frustration. “You’re playing with fire, Bucky.”

He leaned closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. His expression softened into a smirk, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. “I’ll win this for you. I still remember that moment when you wished me to win, just to spite my mother. I need that brave Y/N.”

You could feel the heat from his body, his breath mingling with yours as he drew nearer. The car’s dim lighting accentuated the intensity in his eyes, a smoldering gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Don’t make this about me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bucky’s smirk deepened, and he moved even closer, his face inches from yours. “But babe, this is all for you,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl.

His proximity was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You swallowed hard, the line between anger and something else entirely blurring as his lips almost brushed against yours.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were caught between the anger at his manipulation and the undeniable pull of the unresolved feelings you still harbored for him. The confined space of the car seemed to shrink around you, the air charged with a mix of frustration and unspoken desire.

Bucky’s gaze locked onto yours, his smirk fading into an expression of intense focus. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that made your skin tingle. “I need you to trust me,” he said softly, his voice carrying an almost desperate edge.

You hated him for the pain he’d caused, but his touch betrayed your emotions, making it hard to stay firm. And he knew it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.only the charged, almost unbearable closeness between you.

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