#Death of a Master Chef | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

holyblonded · 4 months ago

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new foods | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader, barcelona femeni x teen!reader

summary: alexia decides to diversify the food at home and you, a notorious picky eater, suffers

warnings: avo-freaking-cados

notes: as a former picky eater this resonates with me ✊🏾

"Ale, please! Leave the cooking to Olga, por favor," you begged, practically on your knees in the kitchen.

Alexia, standing at the counter with a determined look and an apron that read "Master Chef", waved you off like you were being ridiculous. "No, this will be good for everybody. The physios and nutritionists all agree—you need more protein in your diet. No more pizza and all those energy drinks every day. You're a growing girl and need all the nutrients you can get so you can grow to be big and strong."

You stared at her with a blank expression, blinking slowly as if you were processing her words. Then, as if struck by divine inspiration, you whipped around to face Olga, who was trying (and failing) to hide her amusement in the corner. "Please, Olga. Don't let the monster do this. You're the only one who can stop her!"

Alexia rolled her eyes and gave you a light smack on the back of your head. "Monster? Really?"

Olga burst out laughing, leaning against the doorframe. "Sorry, mi Estrellita, but I have to go to Madrid for the week. And you know as well as I do that once she's set her mind on something, there's no stopping her."

She walked over, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then to Alexia's, her grin widening at the pure look of betrayal on your face.

"Be good," Olga said sweetly, ruffling your hair.

"How can I be in these conditions?" you groaned, throwing yourself dramatically onto the couch, your face buried in your hands like a grieving widow in a telenovela.

"You're so dramatic," Alexia huffed, crossing her arms. "This will be a good change, Estrelleta, prometo." She walked over, kissed the top of your head, and then headed to the door to see Olga out.

The moment the door closed, you threw your head back and let out an exaggerated wail. "Why me?!"

From the kitchen, Alexia's voice called out, "Stop acting like I'm going to poison you. It's eggs, niña. People eat them every day!"

You sat up abruptly, squinting toward the kitchen. "Eggs? That's it? That's your grand plan? That's your big nutritional breakthrough? Eggs?!"

"With spinach," Alexia added smugly, emerging from the kitchen holding up a bag of wilted greens like it was some kind of trophy.

"Spinach?!" you gasped, clutching your chest. "Ale, what do you take me for? A farm animal?!"

Alexia laughed, shaking her head as she walked back into the kitchen. "You're impossible. And for the record, this is why you're stuck with me as your cook. Maybe if you didn't treat every green vegetable like it's a personal attack, we wouldn't be here."

You groaned again, flopping back on the couch with your arm draped over your forehead like you were moments away from fainting. "If I don't survive this week, tell Eli and Alba I love them."

"I'll be sure to let them know during the funeral. Cause of death: an actual vegetable," Alexia called back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You couldn't help but smirk as you peeked toward the kitchen. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely," Alexia admitted with a grin.

The sound of a pan clanging against the stovetop made you wince. "Ale," you called nervously, sitting up. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Niña, relax," Alexia replied confidently. "How hard can it be?"

The smell of something burning wafted into the living room.

"Ale!"

"Okay, maybe a little harder than I thought," Alexia muttered, frantically waving a towel at the smoke detector as it began to beep.

You couldn't help but laugh as you watched her struggle. "Olga, please come back," you whispered to yourself, shaking your head. This was going to be a long week.

The cafeteria buzzed with its usual lunchtime energy—trays clinking, teammates laughing, and the faint aroma of fried food in the air. Your stomach growled as you grabbed a tray, your eyes scanning the buffet like a predator stalking its prey. You weren't sure what you wanted, but one thing was certain: it wasn't going to be anything green, or worse, anything with Alexia's dreaded stamp of approval.

As you reached the pizza station, your salvation in sight, a firm hand gripped your elbow, yanking you out of the line.

"¡Ven aquí! (Come here!)" Alexia demanded, a grin on her face that was far too smug for comfort.

"¡Ay, qué ahora! (Oh, what now!)" you groaned, your tray wobbling precariously in your hands. "I was this close to lasagna!"

"You don't need that," Alexia said, practically dragging you toward a table like an overly enthusiastic nutritionist.

When you got there, Alexia pulled off the lid from a covered plate with a flourish, revealing a kale salad so green it could've been plucked straight from a meadow. It was topped with avocado slices, cherry tomatoes, quinoa, and—because fate clearly hated you—a dollop of cottage cheese sitting ominously in the middle like the world's saddest sundae.

You stared at the plate, then at Alexia. "You... expect me to eat that?"

"It's good for you," Alexia replied cheerfully, gesturing toward the chair she had so kindly pulled out for you.

"It looks like something my rabbit would eat if I had one," you deadpanned, making no move toward the seat. "Can we get a rabbit?"

"Stop being dramatic and no. It's packed with nutrients. You'll love it," Alexia insisted, her smile unwavering as she nudged you forward.

"Alexia, I swear," you said, narrowing your eyes. "If this is revenge for that time I 'accidentally' spilled Gatorade in your cleats—"

Alexia's eyes flashed dangerously. "It's not revenge. It's about making sure you don't turn into a walking bag of chips and pizza slices."

Across the room, Mapi was already halfway through a plate of fried rice, watching the scene with barely disguised amusement. "Estrellita, just eat it. The sooner you do, the sooner she'll stop hovering over you like your abuela checking your homework."

"Traitor," you muttered under your breath before finally plopping into the chair with a heavy sigh. Picking up your fork, you poked at the kale tentatively, as though it might spring to life and attack you.

"You're not poking it; you're eating it," Alexia said sternly, arms crossed.

Glaring at her, you stabbed an avocado slice with dramatic flair and shoved it into your mouth. The moment it hit your tongue, your face twisted in disgust. "This tastes like regret and bad decisions," you declared, coughing. "Why do you hate me, Ale?"

Alexia rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous. It's good for you. And you'll thank me when you feel amazing during training and on the field."

"I'll thank you if I survive this week," you shot back, dramatically pushing the plate away as though it had personally wronged you.

Meanwhile, Aitana leaned over from the next table, smirking as she whispered to Keira, "Five bucks says she orders pizza tomorrow."

Keira grinned. "Deal."

Mapi, still chewing on a fry, added, "I'll throw in another five that she bribes someone to smuggle her in snacks before the week's over."

"I can hear you," you snapped, throwing a glare at your teammates.

"And we're still right," Mapi said, laughing with Keira and Aitana.

Alexia reached over, spearing one of Mapi's fries from her plate as the defender swatted at her hand. "Stop complaining and eat, Estrelleta. You'll feel better after."

You stared down at the salad again, poking it like it owed you money. "When Olga gets back, we're staging a coup. No more kale dictatorship."

The whole table erupted into laughter as Alexia groaned, "You're impossible."

"Estrelleta?" Alexia called out again, her voice carrying a note of growing irritation. She had scoured the entire house, from the bedrooms to the kitchen to the gym downstairs. Nothing.

She passed your room once more, pausing when she heard the faint sound of shuffling and... crunching?

"No, I want a refund," your muffled voice complained, irritation clear despite your full mouth. "There's no extra cheese on this pizza! And you forgot the second bottle of Sprite! Not to mention you didn’t buy the right Monster. I said Pipeline Punch not freaking Mean Bean! Monster Java isn’t even good. Worst delivery ever."

Alexia's eyes narrowed. She followed the sound to your closet, where she stood silently, listening for another second. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door, revealing a scene that could only be described as chaotic.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by an empty pizza box, untouched Monster Java, greasy napkins, and a half-drained bottle of Sprite. The glow of your phone lit your guilty face, while a half-eaten slice of pizza dangled from your hand.

"Estrelleta," Alexia said flatly, arms crossed.

You froze mid-bite, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. A piece of pepperoni drooped from your mouth. "Oh, uh... Ale! Hey there! Didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sure you didn't," Alexia replied, stepping into the closet. She gestured to the mess around you. "And what exactly is this?"

You clutched the pizza box to your chest like a treasure chest of secrets. "This? Oh, this is...uh...team research! Yeah, I'm testing potential new post-game meals."

Before Alexia could respond, your phone crackled to life on speaker.

"Told you it was worth it!" Patri's unmistakable voice chimed in, followed by Pina's snickering. "Did you at least get the extra breadsticks?"

Alexia reached down, picked up your phone, and held it to her face with an arched brow. "Hello, Patri. Hello, Pina."

The line went dead in record time, but not before you heard Patri gasp and Pina yell, "Run, Estrella! Save yourself!"

You groaned, flopping back against the pile of hoodies and sweaters in your closet. "Great. Now I'm on my own. Traitors."

Alexia smirked, sitting cross-legged in front of you. "Let me guess—you bribed them to help you sneak this in?"

You scoffed. "Bribed? Such an ugly word. I prefer incentivized."

Alexia held up the now-empty pizza box. "You know Lucy is going to hear about this, right?"

Your jaw dropped in horror. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I would." Alexia grinned wickedly, taking a deliberate bite of the last slice of pizza. "You know how she feels about you eating junk food. She personally picked out that kale salad for you."

"That's exactly why you can't tell her!" you pleaded, sitting upright. "She'll ship me to England just to starve me on cucumber smoothies!"

Alexia pretended to consider this, chewing slowly. "I might keep quiet...but only if you finish the kale salad tomorrow. Without complaints."

Your glare could've melted steel. "You're a monster."

"Your words, not mine," Alexia said smugly, popping the crust into her mouth.

With a heavy, defeated sigh, you muttered, "Fine. I'll eat the salad. But you can't make me eat that yogurt goo again. It's unnatural."

"No promises," Alexia replied with a smirk, grabbing the Sprite. "Now, let's clean this up before Olga finds the evidence and proves me right. I can’t let her be right again."

You groaned, muttering under your breath, "This is my villain origin story."

#woso x reader #fcb femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x teen!reader #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #barca x reader #barcelona femeni x teen!reader #alexia putellas x teen!reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x platonic!reader #woso x teen!reader #woso soccer #woso community #⋆｡˚ stargirl

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mylovesstuffs · 26 days ago

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OT13 with high maintenance s/o

A/N: Lost that ask in the void probably but this was requested by an anon 😭

Seungcheol: He’s high-key into it. He’ll really buy you five perfumes for one outfit because he knows how you love to have options. Carries your bag, memorizes your skincare steps, and pre-orders your faves before you even ask. The man lives to spoil you.

Jeonghan: Master manipulator meets diva energy; a match made in heaven. You want all the attention? He’ll give it, but he expects it back. He’s playful about it, teasing, “You’re so high-maintenance, how do I even keep up?” But he still loves being your only person. Lovesssss to buy you random things and loves how you take care of yourself.

Joshua: Smiles through it but definitely needs a manual at first lol. He adjusts quickly though. You want to look fancy for brunch? He’s coordinating his outfit. You’re picky about your drinks? He’ll memorize your order. If it makes you happy, he’s down, becaussseeeeeee, you’re his priority. He loves it that you know what you deserve and don't settle for anything less.

Jun: He actually finds you fascinating and loves you for iy. You take two hours to get ready, you'll find him watching you get ready. He’s supportive, maybe even starts copying you lmao. You want to look like royalty? Let me help you pick your crown; prime example of this behaviour.

Hoshi: In the beginning of the relationship, he was very confused but committed. “Wait… we’re late because your lashes weren’t symmetrical?” He’s learning on the job but he tries so hard. Gets overly proud when he finally gets your coffee right. Always enthusiastic: “You look like a queen!!” his queen.

Wonwoo: Ykw? Chill king with the drama [slaying] queen 💅🏻 Your energy overwhelms him a bit, but he secretly likes that you bring noise and color into his monotonous world. He’ll listen patiently to you rant about hair serum vs oil like it’s life-or-death. Buys you gifts with zero complaint [and he actually wants to buy you things you like].

Woozi: Internal screaming intensifies. You’re the opposite of his minimalist lifestyle, but he adapts because he cares. “Why do you need thirty throw pillows?” But he’ll fluff them anyway. He’ll get grumpy sometimes, but his love language is lowkey acts of service. Expect him to custom-make you a personalized closet system just because he can 🤷🏻‍♀️

Dokyeom: Thinks it’s adorable, will hype you up so much. “You’re so picky about everything… that’s so cute!!” He loves and so into pampering you and making you happy. Carries your shopping bags, takes outfit pics from every angle, and sings to you while you do your 10-step routine.

Mingyu: He’ll do your skincare with you. He’s got the patience for your outfits, the taste for your aesthetic, and he lives to treat you like royalty. “You want another lip gloss? Cool, let’s get six.” He’s your chauffeur, chef, stylist, and biggest fan. He's a loser for you fr, mark my words.

Minghao: Absolutely supports it—as long as it’s within lines. He doesn’t mind your preferences, but if it’s for show or insecurity, he’ll call it out. “If this makes you happy, I’ll support it. But don’t feel like you have to be perfect for anyone, not even me.” Will treat you with respect and spoil you in his refined, minimalist way.

Seungkwan: Overwhelmed, but will do it all anyway. You want to go to three stores for the right nail polish shade? “I—okay, let me grab my bag.” Complains like a sitcom husband, but deep down he loves being needed. Will absolutely turn into your glam team. “You want curls or waves today, baby??”

Vernon: Baffled, blinks a lot, He’s like, “You need four lip oils? What do they even do?” But he’s chill. He won’t always understand the need, but he’ll support you. Might even help you compare filters for selfies. “You like the third one? Cool, post it.”

Dino: You confuse the hell out of him at first, but he adapts. This man is willing to learn. You want luxury, so he’s reading reviews. You like constant attention? He’s there. High-maintenance doesn’t scare him, instead, it motivates him. If that’s what you need, he'll figure it out.

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xxrougefangxx · 1 year ago

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Jason Todd x Reader fic recs

This is originally made for @marinas-trench , but anybody can use this. Will update as I find more

Added little notes in pink to specify some stuff, includes BOTH platonic and romantic works.

Anybody who does use these recs please try to reblog works- that's the Tumblr algorithm likes don't do anything- to help the authors out <3 (no pressure tho)

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Authors because I can't pick a favorite work:

DC Masterlist by @sanguineterrain - The works speak for themselves.

@jasmines-library - Includes lots of platonic batfamily x reader and the hurt/comfort is just *chefs kiss*

@morverenmaybewrites Ao3 link- Her works are just godsend. She portrays Jason in such a beautiful way and acknowledges his trauma as well.

@minnieearsposts Ao3 Link - Jason works are 10/10, but she also has many other fics that connect with each other. Definitely recommend

@xxgoblin-dumplingxx - All of the au's are just magnificent! There's no master list but you can check the works out using tags.

Batfam masterlist by @book-place - All works are platonic

@writersfailure - Honestly a gold mine, check out their dc master list and other fics as well!

@wh1sp3rr - The jackpot at the end of the rainbow. That's all I'm going to say

@dccomicsimagines - Amazing pieces of work that I can't believe I didn't find before.

Series :

love is not designed for the cynical by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels - The thoughts and emotions are portrayed SO BEAUTIFULLY!!! And while Jason is just spectacular, I also recommend the other series as well.

What we want by @sophiethewitch1 - It's with all the batboys

Crimson Red by @ravenna-reid - Has multiple parts all located on the master list.

Guard Dog by @mostly-imagines

Your secrets are ours, kid by@jaythes1mp - Platonic and yandere

again &. again masterlist by @acid-ixx - Platonic and yandere

Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie by @urmoonlightbebe - I can't believe I almost forgot to add this here

Batfam x neglected reader by @dickgraysonass - Platonic

Gilded Cage by @heavysighing-dreamyeyes

Headcannons/Drabbles:

Girl!DadJason by @in-som-niyah

Reaction to you letting go of their hand by @gay-dorito-dust - Its paired up with both Dick and Damian

Existentional Crisis by @millyhelp

College student!Jason by @orchidsangel

BabyDaddy! Jason fic idea by @kuromitos

Unnamed by @aldryrththerainbowheart

Saturdays by @zer0wzs

Unnamed by @misdeliria

Artist!Reader by @charliedakotariley - This is so wholesome I love it

Fics:

JasonTodd x Fem!Reader by @spidernuggets - reader gets stuck in a time loop to save Jason

sickly sweet romance of u & jay by @wh1sp3rr

Unnamed by @millyhelp

tired and touchstarved!Jason by @indulgentdaydream

A Spoonful of Honey by @stararch4ngelqueen

Golden by @orionremastered

Reader who likes Superman more than Batman by @spidernuggets

Reader who prefers Superman more than batman (different fic than above) by @gay-dorito-dust

Rescuer by @kimberly-spirits13

graceless by @udiudijaye - platonic batfam x batsis but love the fic and had to recommend

Take care by @batsycline69

Forensic Psychologist Reader by @ravenna-reid

What are you doing here? by @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all

What a night by @batboysandgirls

call me your fool by @jasonsmirrorball

18+ Works MDNI

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together by @luvf4ngz - I love the au idea!

Jason distracting you from studying by @millyhelp

Slumber Party by @dollwritesarchive - Includes Dick

Thoughts on Jason being rough by @midnightorchids

jason 'don't run from this dick' todd by @killakalx

BabyDaddy!Jason by @hanasnx

Say Sorry by @dancewithdeath11

Jason fucking reader in the Batmobile by @martiniluvr

Series 18+

guns and roses masterlist by @jayswhorex

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #fic rec #fan fiction recommendations #Jason Todd x fem!reader #Jason todd x y/n #Jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #Jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #Jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #Jason todd x reader smut #red hood smut #red hood x reader smut

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thedensworld · 7 months ago

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Why Women Kill | K. Mg

Genre: Mistery, Smut (18+)

Summary: your husband of 2 years was found dead while you were away. Kim Mingyu, the detective, try to help you find the truth.

The maid immediately dialed emergency services when she found her master lying lifeless in the dining room. Meanwhile, you, the wife of the house, were in your hometown when the devastating news broke. As soon as you stepped foot in the house, you were met with the sight of police officers investigating the scene. The circumstances of your husband’s death had led them to suspect foul play—potential murder.

A tall man introduced himself as Detective Kim, accompanied by Detective Hong. They both approached you as you stood at the entrance, your luggage still in hand. The devastation on your face was unmistakable, a combination of the long flight from abroad and the shocking news had clearly shaken you.

"I'm so sorry for what has happened to your husband, but we need your full cooperation during the investigation," Detective Hong said gently, before outlining the procedures that would follow in light of your husband's sudden death. His voice was professional yet compassionate, understanding the weight of the tragedy you were facing.

"Please, let us drive you to the place where you'll be staying," Detective Hong offered. "It’s the least we can do for you right now."

"I'm afraid it would be an inconvenience..." you started to protest, your voice weak, but Detective Hong insisted.

The three of you made your way toward the car. Detective Kim took your luggage, his silent demeanor revealing a quiet respect. As you walked, Detective Hong engaged you in conversation, asking about your husband.

"I'm sorry," Detective Hong suddenly said, glancing at his phone. "Mr. Choi needs to see me right away. Mingyu, is it alright to drive alone?"

"Of course," Detective Kim replied politely, opening the car door for you. "Please, Mrs. Moon."

As you settled into the passenger seat, Detective Hong, whose full name was Hong Jisoo, tapped Detective Kim on the shoulder. "Mingyu, I trust you with this. You’re a skilled profiler—I hope you pick up on anything during the drive."

"I’ll do my best, hyung," Mingyu replied with a determined nod.

Later that night, Mingyu and Jisoo reconvened at the police station to discuss the case. Moon Junhui, a renowned celebrity chef, was now the subject of a murder investigation.

"The forensic results should be in by tomorrow," Jisoo informed the team. "It’s hard not to feel for Mrs. Moon. She was on vacation in her hometown, and now she comes back to find her husband might’ve been murdered."

"During our conversation, she seemed like a devoted wife," Jisoo continued, his gaze flicking toward Mingyu. "She sacrificed a lot after settling down with Moon Junhui. Did you notice anything suspicious about her while driving her to the hotel?"

Mingyu leaned back, thoughtful. "Just like you said, hyung—she seemed lost, devastated even. But I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Still, I don’t want to jump to conclusions until we get the forensic results."

The next day, the results came in. Moon Junhui had died from arsenic poisoning, found in his system. The investigation kicked into high gear, and police began interviewing those closest to the victim, including Jung Seyeon, the maid who had found him.

"What was your relationship with the victim?" Detective Kim asked Seyeon as she sat across from him in the station.

"I work for him. I’ve been his maid for about a year now."

"And what happened on the day you found him?"

"My shift starts at 6 AM, and I usually stay until the next morning. Mrs. Moon wasn’t in town, and Mr. Moon is typically at his restaurant until 10 PM. But when I went to check the kitchen, I found him lying on the floor and immediately called emergency services."

Mingyu scribbled down notes. "You mentioned your shift starts at 6, but you called emergency at 5. Why did you arrive an hour early?"

Seyeon nodded quickly. "Mr. Moon asked me to come early that day to get groceries to stock the fridge."

"Your husband was found dead after drinking a cup of coffee he supposedly made himself. He was estimated to have died around 3 AM, but wasn't discovered until 5. Can you tell me anything about your husband’s habits that might help us?"

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you tried to keep your composure. "I—I’m not sure why he was home so early. He’s usually at the restaurant late into the night. I’m usually home alone."

"But he did—he does love coffee. He couldn’t go a day without it."

"Is it common for him to drink coffee around that time?" Jisoo asked, his tone gentle but probing.

You shook your head. "No, not at all. He’s normally at work. But I always made his coffee in the mornings."

"What time would that be?" Jisoo pressed.

"Jun’s an early riser. He usually had his coffee around 7 AM, before his morning workout."

You hesitated, then added, "He also preferred his coffee made with bottled water, never tap."

Both Jisoo and Mingyu’s attention sharpened at that. It was a small detail, but potentially significant. The tap water—or the bottle—could be a key to unraveling this mystery.

Who would have thought that a maid, secretly having an affair with her employer, could murdered him out of jealousy toward his wife? The case involving the popular couple—Moon Junhui, the celebrity chef, and Ji Y/N, a former actress—shocked the nation. The story immediately went viral, flooding the internet with comments as netizens discussed the tragic events that had unfolded.

The police had finally unraveled the tangled web of deception. They revealed to the public that a woman with the initials JSY—Jung Seyeon, the maid—had laced one of the water bottles in Jun's fridge with arsenic. The poison had originally been intended for his wife, but fate had intervened, and Jun himself drank from the bottle instead. When Jung Seyeon was apprehended, the footage of her resisting arrest and furiously denying the charges went viral, fueling the public's fascination with the case. The world watched in disbelief as the truth unfolded, and messages of sympathy poured in for you—the true victim in the entire ordeal.

Now, you sat across from Detectives Jisoo and Mingyu, the weight of revelation hanging heavy in the air between you. Jisoo had just asked about the state of your relationship with Jun in the months leading up to his death.

"I don’t think I should talk about this, especially since the investigation is officially over," you said softly, your voice tinged with exhaustion.

Jisoo shook his head gently. "I understand, and I don’t mean to press. But you did mention earlier… you said you couldn’t get pregnant? And that your relationship shifted after that?"

Your gaze fell to the floor, the pain of the past months bubbling up inside. "I don’t want this to be public knowledge. He was… someone I used to love, even though he cheated on me in the end. I can’t deny that, for a long time, he was a husband I loved." Your voice cracked with emotion.

Jisoo looked at you, sympathy in his eyes, before he nodded slowly. "I understand. We’re very thankful for your cooperation. Please, if there’s anything you need during this time, don’t hesitate to reach out."

With that, Jisoo and Mingyu quietly excused themselves, leaving the hotel room and giving you the privacy you so desperately needed.

As they walked down the hallway, Jisoo let out a long breath. "She’s an amazing woman," he murmured, the weight of everything they had learned settling on him. "I just don’t understand why Jun would cheat on her."

Mingyu nodded in agreement. "It’s a tragedy. But at least the truth is finally out."

"Yeah," Jisoo replied, "at least now she can start to heal."

Meeting you again felt like a miracle. The once-hopeful theater student you had been had blossomed into one of the top actresses in the country. Your face was everywhere—on billboards, magazine covers, and in TV commercials. You were known not only for your beauty but for your incredible acting talent. Mingyu couldn’t help but feel proud as he watched you move effortlessly through the crowd at the college reunion for the photography club. He had been there during your early struggles, and seeing you now made him realize how far you’d come.

After mingling with old friends, you finally made your way over to him. “Hey, how are you?” you asked, your voice soft yet familiar.

Mingyu smiled, his heart skipping a beat. “I’m great. You look amazing today.”

You smiled back, a gentle warmth in your eyes. “Thank you. How’s your work, Mr. Detective?” you teased, your playful tone bringing back memories of the past. Mingyu chuckled softly, feeling a rush of nostalgia.

“How do you know?” he asked, biting his inner cheek to stop himself from grinning too widely.

“I saw your promotion in the newspaper. Congratulations,” you replied.

Mingyu’s heart skipped again. You had still been keeping tabs on him, even after all these years. “Thank you,” he said. “I watched your last movie in the cinema. You were incredible.”

You laughed lightly. “That was two years ago. I haven’t been in anything since then.”

Mingyu nodded, recalling how you had become more elusive since your marriage to celebrity chef Moon Junhui. You had once been everywhere, but now you rarely appeared on TV or in public.

Despite the years and the changes in your lives, the conversation flowed easily, as if no time had passed. By the end of the night, you and Mingyu had exchanged contact information, rekindling a connection that had been dormant for years. This time, it was different—friendlier, warmer, but without the romantic tension that had once existed between you.

In the following days, Mingyu would occasionally send you pictures he found of you during work, little snapshots of your past. In return, you’d send him amusing messages or pictures from your quiet days at home.

One night, Mingyu saw five missed calls from you, all while he had been buried in work. Concern immediately washed over him as he dialed your number, and you picked up almost instantly.

"Hey, sorry… I was working earlier. You never call this late," he began, but his voice faltered when he heard something unusual—your sobbing.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he asked, alarmed by the silence that followed.

“Can you come? I’m so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling with fear. Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He asked for your location, and you told him you were in a hotel, far from home—almost an hour away. Without wasting another second, he grabbed his keys and left.

When he arrived at the hotel and knocked on your door, nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him. Your hair was disheveled, your eyes were red and swollen from crying, and there was a small cut on the corner of your lip. Mingyu's heart dropped.

He gently pushed you back into the room, his eyes scanning your body. Bruises covered your arms, your neck, and one side of your cheek.

“Did he do this to you?” Mingyu asked softly, kneeling before you as you sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes filled with concern.

You nodded slowly, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks as a sob broke free. Mingyu wrapped you in his arms, holding you tenderly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his heart breaking for you.

He had always admired your strength. You were passionate, driven, a force to be reckoned with. But now, seeing you like this—shaken, broken, after your husband’s abuse—something inside him snapped. He couldn't stand to see you treated this way.

“Does he do this to you a lot?” Mingyu asked gently, afraid of the answer.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “This is the first time… but he’s been verbally harassing me for a while.”

Mingyu's eyes trailed over the bruises, fury boiling inside him. The thought of your husband doing this made him clench his fists. How could anyone hurt you like this?

“We had a fight,” you continued, voice barely audible. “I haven’t been able to get pregnant… and I was angry too, but he—” Your voice cracked, and you broke down, the weight of it all crashing over you.

“You’re safe now,” Mingyu said softly, pulling you into his embrace again. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

From that night onward, Mingyu became your rock. He was your confidante, someone you could trust during the darkest moments of your marriage. He supported you as you navigated the abuse and waited for the right moment to free yourself from your toxic husband.

And finally, that moment came—when you discovered the ultimate betrayal. He had been cheating on you with the maid you hired just months ago.

“They slept together while I was in the same house as them,” you said bitterly, your voice full of pain. “Every night.”

Hearing this, Mingyu’s protective instinct only grew stronger. You deserved better, and he vowed to stand by you until you found your way out of the nightmare your marriage had become.

However, the past never truly left either of you. Despite the years and distance, there was still a powerful connection between you and Mingyu—one that neither of you could ignore. The comfort, warmth, and undeniable attraction remained, sparking once again whenever you were together. It felt like you had been transported back to your university days, when everything between you was new and exciting.

Originally, the plan was simple: expose the truth about your husband. But the abuse had escalated, and the maid, to your disbelief, had begun dropping subtle hints about her secret affair with Jun, almost as if she wanted you to know. It was sickening, and you found yourself thinking that they deserved each other—a match made in hell.

“He could have killed you eventually,” Mingyu muttered, pressing gentle kisses to the bruises your husband had left behind. Each touch was a mixture of tenderness and suppressed rage.

“I won’t let that happen,” Mingyu whispered, though he knew the reality all too well. If you divorced Jun, the public would likely turn on you—the former actress with a scandal attached, while Jun, the beloved celebrity chef, would play the victim. The world loved him too much to see the truth.

That’s when the plan took shape. Together, you and Mingyu devised a way to make them pay. Using the maid’s background in chemical engineering, and Jun’s obsessive perfectionism and need for control, the pieces began to fall into place. The plan was as meticulous as Jun himself—just as he liked things.

“We’ll be fine. Trust me,” Mingyu reassured you, his voice low but full of conviction. He leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours before closing the gap, sealing your pact with a kiss that was both comforting and charged with a passion that had never really faded.

You knew what had to be done. This wasn’t just about revenge—it was about survival, about reclaiming the power that Jun had stripped from you piece by piece. And with Mingyu by your side, you felt like you could finally take it back.

“Did you use water from the bottle?” Jun’s voice was low but scrutinizing as he looked at the steaming cup of coffee you placed in front of him. His eyes narrowed slightly, the way they always did when he suspected something was off, as if he was already preparing to find fault.

You nodded, offering nothing more. There was no need to over-explain; you’d already learned that. A year of being with Jun had taught you to anticipate his every need, his every request. You had become attuned to the meticulous nature of his preferences, the way he expected perfection in even the smallest details.

Jun lifted the cup to his lips, his expression unreadable. You watched as he took a slow sip, his sharp palate immediately distinguishing between the coffee made with tap water and the bottled water he’d insisted on after one too many complaints. When he set the cup down, he didn’t say anything, just gave a slight nod of approval before turning his attention back to his tablet.

It had been months in the making, this habit you built, subtly weaving it into his life. First, it was the coffee. Then it was his food. Every dish prepared to his demanding taste, all of it crafted to make him dependent on that bottled water, his palate too sensitive to accept anything less. It was the perfect setup.

As you walked out of the room, your mind flickered back to Mingyu’s advice. “Start with something small,” he had said. “Make him dependent on it, and when the time comes, we’ll use it against him.”

You didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning.

“That woman should handle the groceries from now on,” Mingyu’s voice had been calm but purposeful when he suggested it. He was sitting across from you at a small café, his hand reaching out to touch yours. “Since she’s his girlfriend, she’ll be careless. She won’t put in the same effort you do.”

The idea was brilliant. You had already seen how Seyeon was beginning to infiltrate your life, little by little, her presence creeping into spaces where she didn’t belong. Letting her handle the groceries would be one more way to let her sink deeper into the affair.

The next phase of the plan was more complicated. It required emotional manipulation—a confrontation that would spark tension and lead to what Mingyu called “the perfect motive.”

One evening, after Jun returned from work, you sat him down. The air between you was cold, detached, as if the love that once filled your home had long since evaporated.

“We need to talk,” you said, your voice steady.

Jun glanced at you, sensing the seriousness in your tone. “What’s this about?” he asked, suspicion already creeping into his expression.

“I think we should divorce,” you said plainly, watching for his reaction.

Jun’s face contorted, a mix of disbelief and anger flashing in his eyes. “Divorce? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you continued, keeping your voice level. “I know about you and Seyeon. I’ve known for a while.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Jun’s hands clenched, his jaw tightening. You could feel the rage building beneath his composed exterior.

“If you leave her, I won’t say a word about it to the media,” you added, throwing down the ultimatum that would push him over the edge. “But if you don’t—”

The threat hung in the air like a blade. And just as you had expected, the storm followed soon after. That very night, you heard Jun and Seyeon arguing in hushed but heated whispers, thinking you were asleep. You found your dresses shredded, your things broken, and Seyeon’s jealous tantrums began surfacing in ways that made it clear she knew her days were numbered.

The moment had finally come when Mingyu handed you the small vial containing the colorless, tasteless powder. “Here, put this in his water,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a steady, unwavering gaze.

You stared at the vial in your hand, feeling its weight—not just the physical weight but the weight of what it symbolized. This was it. The culmination of everything you and Mingyu had planned, carefully, methodically, over the last few months. You felt a slight tremor in your hand, not from fear but from the adrenaline rushing through you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice betraying a sliver of doubt. “What if something goes wrong? What if we get caught?”

Mingyu reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “Nothing will go wrong,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “Seyeon’s been doing the grocery shopping, right? She hasn’t been restocking the fridge properly. The water bottles will run low, and when Jun reaches for one, it’ll be this one.”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the anxiety bubbling up inside you. Mingyu had thought of everything, hadn’t he? He’d been so meticulous, so careful, just like Jun. And now, he was asking you to trust him with something so dangerous, so final.

“I’ll handle everything,” Mingyu reassured you, his fingers brushing over yours, calming your nerves. “If anything happens, I’ll make sure the investigation leads straight to her. She’s been careless, reckless. We’ll plant the arsenic in her things. No one will suspect you.”

This was it. The moment you had been waiting for, months in the making. Everything was going according to plan.

And just as Mingyu had promised, everything unfolded perfectly. The investigation led straight to Seyeon. The arsenic was found in her apartment, carefully planted in a way that left no doubt in the minds of the police. The media frenzy that followed was everything you had expected—and more. Seyeon’s public fall from grace was swift and brutal. The perfect crime, and no one suspected a thing.

“We’ll be fine, love,” Mingyu whispered one final time, pulling you into his arms as the chaos unfolded around you. You had trusted him, and in the end, he had been right. You were free.

“How was your mother?” Mingyu’s deep voice broke the comfortable silence as he watched you from the couch. You were standing in front of the mirror, slowly smoothing lotion onto your skin, your body illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Mingyu leaned back, his gaze following the gentle movements of your hands, admiring the peacefulness in the room. After everything the two of you had been through, moments like this felt sacred—quiet, intimate, and free from the chaos that had once consumed your life.

You glanced at him through the mirror, offering a soft smile. “She’s doing fine. But she’s getting older, and I’ve been thinking about asking her to move in with me. She’s so stubborn, though. She won’t leave the countryside. She’s always been attached to that place.”

Mingyu smiled, enjoying the way your voice softened when you spoke about your mother. It was something he admired about you—the way you cared so deeply for the people you loved. “It’s understandable. She’s probably got a lifetime of memories there. But, maybe one day she’ll change her mind,” he said, standing up and walking toward you.

His hand rested gently on your shoulder as he spoke. “How did she react to everything with Jun?” Mingyu asked, referring to the fallout from your former husband’s scandal, his voice cautious but curious.

“She was shocked,” you admitted, turning slightly to look at him. “But not entirely surprised. She’s always known something wasn’t right between Jun and me. I think what worried her the most was me suddenly staying with her for a month and then leaving again. She probably sensed something was going on beneath the surface.”

Mingyu chuckled softly, his eyes warm with understanding. “She’s your mom. She knows you better than anyone else.”

He reached for the lotion bottle, squeezing some into his palms. Without a word, he gently began to rub it into your shoulders, his strong hands massaging the tension from your muscles. His touch was firm but soothing, easing away the weight of everything you had carried over the past few months. His reflection in the mirror locked eyes with yours, and there was something grounding in his presence—something that made you feel safe.

“How are you feeling?” Mingyu asked, his voice low, almost a whisper, as his hands continued to glide over your skin, working their way down your back.

You tilted your head slightly, pausing to think before responding. “I feel... relieved, but also worried. It’s strange. I thought I’d feel only relief after everything, but there’s this part of me that’s still anxious, like something could go wrong.”

Mingyu’s hands paused for a moment, then he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “That’s normal,” he whispered against your hair. “You’ve just come out of a toxic relationship, and it’s going to take time to fully feel like yourself again. But you’re free now, and I’m here. You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore.”

You smiled at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. His reassurance was exactly what you needed, a reminder that you were no longer trapped, no longer alone. “Thank you, Mingyu,” you said quietly, your voice filled with gratitude.

He turned you toward him, his hands moving to cup your face as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. “Anything for you,” he whispered, sealing his promise with a tender kiss.

The kiss deepened, turning heated as Mingyu's hand trailed from the nape of your neck down to your waist, gently yet possessively pushing you against the wall. His fingers explored every contour of your body, mapping out your curves, while your hand slipped into his hair, massaging his scalp. A soft moan escaped his lips, the pleasure from your touch sending shivers through him.

His hand slid under your pajama top, his palm pressing against the bare skin of your back before moving upward, cupping your breast perfectly in his hand. He massaged it with slow, deliberate strokes, while his other hand trailed lower, squeezing your ass firmly.

“I want to make you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear before his lips traveled down to your neck. His tongue painted your skin like a canvas, leaving wet trails as he marked you with kisses.

With a firm grip, he lifted your thigh to his waist, thrusting his hips against your core, letting you feel how hard you had made him.

“I need you…” you whispered, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt. Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He pulled you down to the floor, urgency in his movements as he unbuttoned his pants. You helped him peel his shirt off, both of you shedding layers like you couldn’t get close enough.

His lips found your breast, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking and teasing it as if his life depended on it. Meanwhile, his hand slipped under the waistband of your pants, slowly dragging them down just enough to let his fingers explore. He groaned softly as his fingers brushed over your warm, wet core, teasing you with playful strokes before finally slipping one finger inside.

“Mingyu…” His name left your lips in a breathless plea, the sound making his smirk grow wider.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, his voice deep with lust.

“Please… I want you,” you murmured, feeling the need building with every slow, tantalizing movement of his fingers.

“Not yet, baby…” he shushed you, his finger moving faster, his other hand steadying your body against the intensity.

“Ah… fuck…” you moaned, your body arching as he added another finger, filling you even more. His movements quickened, relentless, as he pumped his fingers inside you, the wet sounds filling the room.

“Can you hear that? That’s you, so wet… just for me,” he rasped, his voice low and husky.

Your breath hitched as he slipped a third finger inside, the stretch making your head spin as your body tightened in response. The pooling heat in your belly grew unbearable.

“Mingyu… I can’t, it’s too much—”

“Cum for me, baby… I can feel it,” he urged, his fingers moving faster, harder, as if he were chasing your release himself.

Your body obeyed, the tension snapping as you hit your climax, gasping as waves of pleasure crashed over you. “I’m cumming…” you barely managed to say, your voice breaking as your orgasm rippled through you, leaving you breathless.

Mingyu smirked in satisfaction, watching you squirt against his fingers. He lowered you to the floor, giving you no time to recover as he kneeled between your legs, his mouth instantly finding your wetness. His tongue swirled against your sensitive core, drawing out every last drop of pleasure as you let out a desperate whine, your legs trembling beneath his touch.

His tongue worked you expertly, tasting every inch of you, the sound of your moans driving him crazy. He could listen to you like this forever, and he knew he’d never tire of making you feel this crazy.

"Too much…" you managed to whisper through your hitched breath. Mingyu stood from his position, effortlessly lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bed. As he laid you down gently, he pulled off his boxers, freeing his cock, which was swollen and slick with precum, the tip flushed red—an undeniable sign of how badly he wanted you. But tonight wasn’t about his desires; it was about making you forget all your worries, about making you feel cherished.

His lips captured yours again as he hovered over you, gently laying you down on the bed. His hands moved up to your breasts, teasing them, thumbs circling your sensitive nipples, while his kisses trailed down your neck.

"I'm going to treat you so good, baby. You're my princess… Cum for me again, yeah?" he murmured, his voice low and tender as he gazed into your eyes. Then, without hesitation, he lowered himself between your legs again, his lips finding your core once more.

"Please, Mingyu… it's too much…" you whimpered, the overwhelming pleasure making your body tremble. Mingyu only hummed in response, the vibration from his voice sending another jolt of pleasure straight to your belly, making you moan louder.

His tongue worked you with expert precision, every flick and swirl pushing you closer to the edge. It felt like you were floating, everything around you fading away as pleasure consumed you. You could see flashes of white behind your eyelids, the sensation so intense you could barely breathe.

Sensing how far gone you were, Mingyu playfully pinched your thigh, grounding you in the moment just as your second orgasm began building. Your body jerked in response, and you gasped, arching against him.

"I'm close…" you whispered, the words barely making it past your lips.

"Yes, baby, cum for me," Mingyu urged, his deep voice almost a command. "I’ve got you."

Your body convulsed as your orgasm crashed over you, more powerful than the first. You cried out, hands tangling in Mingyu's hair, pushing him closer to your core as he licked you through your release. His tongue didn’t relent, driving you further into ecstasy as your body quivered and your mind spun from the intensity.

When you finally came down from the high, breathless and trembling, Mingyu lifted his head, his lips glistening with your essence. His warm smile filled you with a sense of peace. Climbing back up your body, he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, the intimacy of the moment leaving you breathless once more.

"I love you," Mingyu murmured against your lips, his voice soft but filled with passion. He kissed you again, slower this time, as if savoring every second. "You’re everything to me."

The warmth in your chest spread, a feeling of deep love and connection wrapping around you. Mingyu wasn’t just making love to your body; he was worshipping every part of you, showing you just how addicted he was—to you, to the way your body responding his every touch. He was all yours tonight, and he would remind you of that over and over again.

"You want me, baby? Think you can handle me?" Mingyu asked, his voice low and teasing as his gaze trailed down your body. Desperation laced your nod, your breaths coming quicker as you clenched around nothing, your body betraying just how much you needed him. Mingyu smirked at the sight, loving how your body was begging for him just as much as he wanted you.

"Are you sure you can take me?" he murmured again, his tip barely grazing your entrance, rubbing teasingly against your slick folds. Your lips parted in a soft whimper, eyes pleading as you muttered a quiet beg.

"Well, since you asked so nicely…"

Mingyu slowly, deliberately, slid his cock into you, the stretch sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your walls welcomed him with a tight warmth, like he belonged there, and Mingyu whimpered softly near your ear as he pushed deeper, still amazed at how tight you felt around him, even after all this time.

"Oh my—just like the first time…" he groaned, his voice thick with need.

"You're so big," you breathed out, making his cock twitch inside you. Mingyu hissed through his teeth, half-warning you to stop saying things like that, his control hanging by a thread.

"You feel so amazing… you have no idea," he muttered, burying himself fully inside you, both of you moaning at the sensation. It felt perfect, as if everything about this moment—about you two—was exactly right.

"Move, baby… you can move," you urged him, your voice barely a whisper, but Mingyu heard it loud and clear. He began to thrust, slowly at first, then picking up the pace as you adjusted to the delicious fullness.

"Did he fuck you good?" Mingyu asked, his tone darkening as he picked up speed, the jealousy biting at him. He needed to know, needed to hear it from you—needed the reassurance that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Not Jun, not anyone.

You shook your head, desperation and pleasure etched into your expression as your breathing grew more ragged. Mingyu could feel your walls tightening around him as he angled his hips, hitting the spot that made you see stars.

"Only you," you gasped out, barely able to form the words as he continued to thrust, hitting that perfect spot again and again. "Only you can do this to me…"

Mingyu groaned deeply at your confession, pulling your face toward his for a sloppy, heated kiss. His lips claimed yours, your moans mingling as he lifted your leg, folding you in half to get deeper, hitting places you didn’t even know existed.

His pace quickened, every thrust sending shocks of pleasure through your body. His fingers found your clit, circling it in sync with his movements, pushing you further toward the edge. You couldn’t stop your hands from clawing at his back, your nails leaving marks, but the pain only heightened Mingyu's pleasure.

"I'm close," you gasped, the pressure in your belly building to an unbearable peak. Mingyu's arms slid beneath your head, pulling you closer, craving the skin-to-skin contact as he chased both of your releases. His moans mixed with yours as he felt your walls clamp down around him, your orgasm washing over you, pulling him deeper into his own.

Your body shook as he thrust through your high, and despite the overstimulation, he kept going, desperate to find his own release. His thrusts grew sloppier, more erratic, until finally, with a groan, he buried himself inside you, ropes of hot cum filling you as he reached his climax.

He dropped his head onto your shoulder, panting as he continued to ride out the last waves of pleasure, even as your body trembled through another small, overstimulated orgasm.

When the intensity finally subsided, Mingyu flipped you both over, letting you rest on top of his chest as your breathing slowly returned to normal. He gently stroked your back, grounding you as you recovered.

"Let's rest for five minutes… then I'll ride you," you whispered, voice still thick with exhaustion, but the promise in your words sent a spark through Mingyu.

His ears pearked at your words, and like an eager puppy, he grinned widely. The thought of you riding him filling him with anticipation. Finally, after everything, you are his— completely and utterly his. And he couldn't wait for more.

"Tell me something I don't know," Hong Jisoo stated, his voice slurred as he and Mingyu sat across from each other, four empty bottles of soju scattered on the table between them.

Mingyu didn’t falter, continuing to grill the meat in front of him, though he knew where this conversation was heading. Jisoo's drunken state had loosened his tongue, and now he was asking about something they both knew all too well.

"I saw you with Mrs. Moon. Or should I call her Y/N?" Jisoo’s brow raised, his words no longer filtered by sobriety.

Mingyu glanced at him, a brief silence hanging in the air before he sighed. "Since when?" Jisoo prodded, his curiosity piqued.

"We've known each other since college," Mingyu finally admitted, flipping the meat on the grill with a practiced hand.

Jisoo nodded, leaning forward. "So why did you pretend like you didn’t know her during the investigation?" he asked, a hint of accusation lacing his words.

"It was... awkward," Mingyu confessed, his hand absently scratching the back of his neck. "We used to date for a long time. She got married, and then her husband died... tragically."

Jisoo’s expression softened slightly as Mingyu continued. "You know the case. Jun treated her horribly, and honestly... my feelings for her were too strong. I couldn’t just ignore it. Once the investigation was over, I reached out to her because I wanted to support her."

Jisoo nodded again, slowly digesting the explanation. He was a man who valued logic, and Mingyu’s reasoning made sense to him in his inebriated state. "So, you two are dating again? I heard she announced her retirement."

"Yeah," Mingyu replied with a nod. "We started seeing each other again. She retired and decided to move in with her mother. It’s been good for her."

Jisoo sighed deeply, slumping forward on the table. "I was her fan, you know. She was a great actress!" he slurred, nearly knocking over the grill as he lost his balance.

Mingyu quickly reached out, steadying Jisoo before he burned himself. "Yeah," Mingyu agreed quietly, glancing down at the sizzling meat. "She really was."

As Jisoo drifted into a drunken stupor, Mingyu couldn’t help but reflect. You were a great actress. And somewhere along the way, you’d taught him to be one too, hiding secrets behind composed smiles and well-practiced lies.

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agreeewrites · 6 months ago

Text

The Black Dog and His Bluebird | S.B.

feat. adult!Sirius Black x fem!reader

summary: Sirius Black returns to 12 Grimmauld Place battered and alone after 12 years in Azkaban. While his childhood home is the last place he wants to be, there's a small glimmer of hope right next door.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, mentions of abuse and parental illness/death, head injury, hospital visit. Sirius has got that dog in him. 🐾

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

12 Grimmauld place loomed over him, weathered and and glaring. Sirius dropped his bag on the porch as the taxi rumbled away. Why had he insisted on coming back here? He hated this house, hated it’s stained brick and crooked shutters and gaping black maw.

But he had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to. So backwards was the only way to move forward.

He glanced at the neighbors house, the y/l/n’s, and was struck to find the same olive Ford Cortina in the drive, blue tansy in the window boxes. Could y/n still be there?

Unlikely, he thought. She was probably working some posh career in Paris, a fashion designer, or journalist. He hoped she was, even if part of him longed to see her again.

They’d grown up together, despite living in entirely separate worlds. Y/n’s life was pretty, honeyed, with loving parents, lavish Christmases, and vacations to the French coastline to visit her grandparents. But she’d always been kind to him, and went out of her way to sneak him pastries made by their Parisian chef. She never knew that some days, that would be the only thing he’d eaten. Some days, her silly jokes were the only thing to make him smile after weeks of misery.

When she’d left home to attend Beauxbaton’s, he’d been heartbroken. He knew she likely wouldn’t attend Hogwarts, but part of him had desperately hoped they’d go together. Countless nights were spent awake in his bunk in boys dormitory, wondering how she was, what she was studying, if she liked it there. If she thought of him, too.

He’d only seen her a few more times after that, in fleeting moments over the course of five summers. But then he was disowned, and the war began, and then…

Sirius sighed. Even if she was here, she likely thought he was a murderer, and dark wizard, and would want nothing at all to do with him.

Kreacher opened the front door, startling him. “Master Sirius returns, but Kreacher remembers how he left, yes, Kreacher remembers…”

Sirius grabbed his bag before the elf could and pushed inside. “I’m not happy about this either, mate. But we’ll have to make do.”

Kreacher grumbled and disappeared into the dining room.

“Welcome home,” Sirius muttered to himself and shut the door.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few days passed while Sirius settled in, despite Kreacher’s constant efforts to inconvenience him. At least the house elf had kept the house in decent shape over the years.

The sound of a car rolling up the neighbors drive drew his attention from the novel he’d been reading, and he sat up from his sprawled position on the couch, parting the heavy velvet curtains.

The Cortina rolled to a stop in front of the neighbors house. His palms began to sweat, his heart pumping in his chest.

“Master Sirius—”

Sirius waved Kreacher off, fixated on the drivers side door. There was a woman inside, he was sure of it. But was it…

The door opened, a denim clad leg poking out, a slender, red-polished hand gripped the edge of the door. Y/n stepped out of the car, her curls shining in the morning sunlight.

Sirius’ stomach flipped, and he swallowed hard. She’d been beautiful as a girl, but now she a woman, and that much more stunning.

Fuck me, Sirius thought, hand tightening around the edge of the curtain. The countless times he’d dreamed of her, mapping every inch of her face, every hair on her head, somehow he’d forgotten just how perfect she was.

Her head turned suddenly, their eyes connecting across the way, and Sirius ducked down, the curtain falling closed.

“Shit,” he hissed, smacking his forehead. “Kreacher!”

“Master Sirius called Kreacher?” the elf hissed, entering the room.

“How long has y/n been back home?”

“Kreacher remembers Miss. Y/n returning six years ago…yes, six. With Mistress y/l/n. Kreacher saw them take Master y/ln away in a long, black car…the crying disturbed Kreacher, yes, Kreacher scolded them—”

“That’s all, Kreacher. Thank you,” Sirius said, risking another glance out the window. Y/n was helping her mother from the driver’s side, the old woman frail as wheat with a pink cap over her head. Sirius frowned, concern tightening his throat. First, her father passed, and now her mother was ill.

My poor little bluebird.

How he longed to go speak to her, to knock on her door, throw a rock at her window like he did in their youth. But, things were different now. He was different now. And he had no doubt that as soon as she laid her pretty brown eyes on his gnarled, tattooed appearance, she’d run screaming.

He slumped back on to the couch and retrieved his book, determined to ignore the persistent ache in his chest.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You glanced back at 12 Grimmauld Place while guiding you mother up the front stairs. Surely, you hadn’t imagined him. A man with dark curls, his face severe, but so familiar.

Who else could it have been but Sirius?

Your heart drummed in your chest, trilling with nervous excitement. Your entire life, you’d harbored a crush on the mysterious Sirius Black, the absurdly wealthy, rakishly handsome, silver-tongued boy next door. but then you left for school, and his family unraveled, and then the incident…

You shivered. You never thought he’d see the outside of Azkaban, and when the reports of his escape were plastered all over the city…you’d felt nothing but girlish hope. Not for a single moment did you think that Sirius, your sad-eyed friend, was guilty of something so heinous. No, you knew there was more to the story.

Once your mother was settled in bed, exhausted from her treatment that morning, you ventured into the kitchen and got to work.

Two hours later, you poured the steaming pork cassoulet into a tall-sided dutch oven and wrapped a fresh loaf of bread in a kitchen towel hand-stitched with blue flowers. Nerves tickled behind your ribs, but you fluffed your curls, straightened your ivory jumper, and loaded the items into a picnic basket.

Would he answer the door? Will he be glad to see me? Will Kreacher chase me away?

Thoughts raced across your mind as you walked down the driveway, across the sidewalk, and up towards the Black front door. It struck you that this was the first time you’d ever done this. Your parents had forbade you from visiting the Black’s household, though Sirius, and his little brother Regulus, were welcome at your house anytime, and Sirius echoed the same sentiment whenever you brought it up.

With trembling fingers, you tapped the door knocker against the wood three times.

“Intruders at Mistresses stoop!” Kreacher wrenched open the door, his eyes narrowed. If one’s entire body could frown, Kreacher’s certainly was.

“It’s a pleasure, Kreacher,” you said brightly, offering the crotchety house elf a smile. “Is your Master home?”

“Y/n?” A deep voice called, and Sirius Black stepped into the shadowed foyer.

Your tongue tied, your mind grinding to a halt at the sight of him. He was gorgeous, if a bit thin from twelve years in prison. Time had honed the handsome boy he’d been into a bonafide man, complete with rugged facial hair, smoldering eyes, and spools of intricate ink across his skin. He wore a gray henley, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and black jeans, capped with sturdy black boots.

“Cassoulet,” you said dumbly, and your cheeks immediately heated with embarrasment.

“Sorry?” He asked, stepping closer and shooing the house elf away.

Kill me now, you thought. “I, uh. I noticed you were home and, uh, I thought you might like a home-cooked meal,” you said, holding up the picnic basket.

“For me?” he asked, taking the basket from your hands, though his eyes never wavered from your face.

You nodded. “It’s a pork cassoulet, stew,” you corrected yourself. “And a loaf of bread to go with it.”

He looked a little surprised, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth, exposing a sharp canine. Heat curled along your spine, making your knees soften.

“Thank you, y/n,” he said, passing the basket to the scowling Kreacher, who was eyeing our exchange with open disdain. “Would you like to come in and have dinner with me?” he offered, leaning against the door frame.

Even though he was on the thinner side, he still towered over you, consumed every one of your senses like a greedy masterpiece.

“I should get back to my mother,” you said, more nervous by the second. You weren’t afraid of him per se, but what he was coaxing out of you. The long dormant feelings you’d locked away to spare your own heart.

“Of course.” He nodded, but didn’t make any move to close the door, still assessing you with those sharp eyes.

“But perhaps another night?” you offered, raising an eyebrow in a gesture you hoped came across as flirtatious, not creepy.

“I look forward to it,” he purred, flashing that wicked smile once again.

Before you did something rash, you turned and hurried down the steps, not daring to look back until you were safely behind your own front door

“You’re blushing,” your mom teased, startling you.

You flipped her the bird and trudged back to the kitchen to clean your mess.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Sirius couldn’t stop thinking about y/n. From the moment he opened his eyes in the morning, to the moment he fell into fitful, sinful dreams about her. It was driving him mad. She was driving him mad.

He found himself waiting by the window, waiting for her to step outside to water the flowers, or fetch the mail, just so he could get a glimpse of her. A few times, her mother invited him for tea and he’d get to bask in y/n’s presence for an hour or so, nibbling on flaky pastries, sipping fresh cups of herbal tea, and making silly small talk, not that he ever had much to contribute. It was the best part of his week, and he was grateful for even a few moments of conversation with her, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

He’d even appeared on her front porch in his animagus form, literally begging like a dog for a scrap of her affection. She had scratched behind his ears, offered him a wedge of cheese, and even placed a gentle kiss on his snout, leaving behind a red lipstick print.

It had taken hours for his heart rate to settle, his blood to cool, after that. He imagined every place she’d leave lipstick smudges. Across his jaw, his collarbones, over his tattooed chest, haloed around the root of his cock…fuck.

His whole world had tilted to orbit around her gravity, and made his childhood crush look fleeting in comparison. She had ensured him, enthralled him, and he was beginning to think twelve more years in Azkaban would be more tolerable then this. Having her so close, but just out of his reach.

Sirius knew he should be worried about other things. His godson, for one. But selfishly, he wanted to linger in this feeling. The anticipation, the thrill of a passing touch, a prolonged gaze. Even if it would likely never be more than that.

His life had been nothing but darkness for so long, even a thimble of her light would be more than he could wish for. And yet, she gave it with abandon, recklessly doling out kindness and sweet smiles.

Bang bang!

Sirius jumped from the love seat, tossing his book onto the coffee table. He snagged his wand from the bookshelf and ran to the foyer, beating Kreacher to the rip open the door, wand raised.

Y/n stood on the other side, eyes wide with terror and tears streaking down her face. “Sirius, my mum—”

He was already out the door, running across the walkway and into their house, y/n on his heels.

“The bathroom. She hit her head,” Y/n said through hiccuping sobs, leading him up the stairs and down a narrow hall.

He found Ms. Y/l/n leaning against the wall in the master bathroom, a bundle of tissue pressed to her temple. She was awake, but her eyes were a bit unfocused, her hand struggling to keep the compress in place.

“Call an ambulance. I’ll bring her down,” he said, fighting to keep his voice level.

“Sirius—”

“Now, y/n,” he ordered, lowering his voice to not alarm the old woman. Once y/n ran out of the room to use the telephone, he crouched down beside her mother. “Hello, love. Can I carry you downstairs?”

She looked at him, eyes bleary. “Orion?” she asked, reaching up touch his face.

Shit, he thought, and didn’t waste another second before scooping her up, her frail body feather-light in his arms. “I’ve got ‘ya, hold tight,” he murmured softly as he carried her downstairs, careful to avoid any jerking movements.

“They’re coming,” y/n said, rounding the corner at the same time he reached the bottom.

Within minutes, sirens filled the neighborhood and her mother was taken away in an ambulance, y/n riding in the back with her.

Sirius followed on his recently returned motorcycle, breaking a few too many speed limits on the way.

He ran into the hospital, finding the first nurse in the lobby.

“I’m looking for—”

“Sirius!”

He turned and y/n slammed into his front, throwing her arms around his neck. Her whole body was trembling, sobs strangling her voice, and throttling his heart.

“Oh, darling,” he shushed, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m here, love. I’m right here.” He ushered her into an empty waiting room, keeping her pressed against him. It was agony to see her like this, her eyes rimmed with red, her breathing unsteady. He wanted to steal all of her hurt, banish it with a spell or a cruel word, but he was helpless to do anything but hold her.

An hour passed with her resting against his side, cycling through boughts of tears and stony silence. The only words were offered by him, small murmurings of hope, empty promises that everything would be alright.

Just as she was starting to calm, a doctor walked into the waiting room. They bolted up, rounding on him.

“How is she?” Y/n asked, clutching Sirius’ hand. In another situation, he’d be elated.

“She’s fine,” the doctor said, resting a placating hand on her shoulder. Sirius narrowed his eyes at it, but resisted the urge to slap it away. “We’d like to keep her overnight for monitoring, but we believe it’s a minor concussion at worst. She’ll be just fine.”

“Oh, thank God.” Y/n sagged into him, relief bringing tears to her eyes.

”Can we see her?” Sirius asked, wrapping a protective arm around y/n’s waist.

“Of course, right this way.”

They followed the doctor down a series of hallways, Sirius never once releasing his hold on y/n. Seeing the doctor touch her awakened something in him, something possessive and snarling, and every man that glanced her way made his hackles rise.

The doctor stopped at a door and y/n broke from his side, bursting into the room.

“Maman!,” she cried, rushing over to her mother’s bed. She was sat up and alert, nibbling on some crackers and drinking a cup of tea.

“Mon Cherie,” she cooed, taking her daughters hand. “I’m well, darling. Don’t fret.”

“I was so worried,” y/n said, wiping a tear from her cheek. They began whispering back and forth in french, leaving Sirius and the doctor estranged. Until, that is, Sirius caught his name in the jumble of unfamiliar words.

Y/n glanced back at him, then her voice took a argumentative tone. Her mother bit back, and y/n sighed, then waved Sirius over.

Perplexed, he stepped up to the side of the hospital bed. Ms. Y/l/n took his hand in hers, his long, tattooed fingers a stark contrast to her willowy ones.

“Take y/n home with you. Make sure she eats and gets some rest,” she said, whispering to him. “She worries too much.”

“Mum!”

Sirius nodded, smiling. “I’ll take good care of her,” he promised.

“You were always such a good boy, Sirius,” she said, meeting his eyes. “We always knew that.”

Unexpected emotion welled in his chest, and he cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he managed, voice gruff.

“Now get out. I need my rest,” she barked, shooing them away.

“But—” y/n argued.

“Out!”

“C’mon, love,” Sirius urged, taking y/n’s hand and leading her away. “I’ll take you home.”

Reluctantly, she followed him, twining her fingers with his.

Y/n was a bit daunted by the motorcycle, but after some coaxing, she climbed on, wrapping herself around him like a koala. The warmth of her body spread across his skin, rousing that hunger in his soul and making his pants tighten.

He drove as carefully as he could, keeping one hand on her body the entire time to ensure she stayed tucked safely against him. But it was nearly impossible for him to focus with her small hands curled against his lower stomach, her thighs pressed against his waist.

He really was a feral fucking beast.

Finally, they made it back to 12 Grimmauld Place just after sunset. He helped her off the bike, her legs a little wobbly from the ride. Indecent thoughts flitted through his mind, but he shoved them away. She needed him to look after her, not drool all over her like a dog.

“Could we do that again sometime?” y/n asked, surprising him.

“Ride the bike?” he asked, raising a brow.

She gave a small nod, blushing. He nearly gave an audible groan, his heart thumping out of rhythm.

“Whatever you want, bluebird,” he said, leading her up the steps and into the house. She blushed even further at the childhood nickname and he about tripped up the last step.

Kreacher was already there, of course, complaining loudly.

Sirius whistled to get the house elf's attention. “You’re off duty for the rest of the night. Go on,” he ordered, and if Kreacher could smile, Sirius swore he did.

Kreacher made himself scarce, and Sirius led her further into the house.

“I’ve never been in here,” she said, looking around with wide eyes.

He shrugged, sheepish at the grandiose nature of the interior design, how dark his home seemed in comparison to hers. “Better than Azkaban,” he muttered, and she giggled.

“What’s this?” she asked, pausing at the hall he hoped she’d miss entirely. The one with the sprawling mural of the Black family tree.

“The bane of my existence.” He followed behind her, watching as she ran her fingers along the branches, tracing his lineage across centuries.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, craning her head back to take it all in.

He just hummed in response, trailing the lines of her throat with his eyes, wondering what the fragile skin would feel like beneath his teeth.

But his revery was short-lived. He saw the moment her eyes snagged on his scorched name.

“Sirius…” she rubbed her finger over the burned hole, tilting her head slightly.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, wanting to avoid this conversation all together.

“Who did this?” she asked, turning to look at him. Tears glimmered along her lash line, and he regretted not tearing this wall down the second he returned. How dare his mother make her cry.

“It’s in the past,” he said, wanting desperately to comfort her despite the curdling sadness in his own heart every time he confronted the memories of his families disdain.

She didn’t respond, instead fishing around in her purse. She withdrew a tube of lipstick, her signature, oxblood red that his mother would think was garish, and spread it effortlessly across her plush lips.

Sirius’ mouth filled with saliva. What is she doing?

Y/n leaned forward, pressing her lips over the space his name once was, and his heart stopped. When she pulled back, a red lipstick print was left behind.

“Fuck your family,” she said, putting the lipstick back into her purse.

Sirius couldn’t bear it any longer. The beast severed the last of his restraint. He lunged for her, crushing her body between himself and the cursed mural, and claimed her mouth in a savage kiss.

She tasted like tea and chocolate, liquor sweet, and he was starved for it. She grabbed at his collar, pulling him closer as she bloomed for him, spreading those painted lips for his tongue to delve deeper. To devour her. A small sound of pleasure slipped from her throat and he growled, notching his thigh between her legs as their bodies rolled together. It was a fevered kiss, frenzied and desperate, and he never wanted it to end.

“Sirius” she panted, her fingers tangled in his hair.

“Hmm?” he hummed, kissing along her soft jaw, smirking when her hips twitched against his thigh.

“Should we, with everything—”

He pulled back, finding her eyes. “Most would caution you against associating with the likes of me,” he murmured, his tone light and teasing. He swiped at her smudged lipstick with his thumb, a deep pulse of satisfaction curling his toes in his boots. Already, he was making a mess of her.

She smirked. “The likes of you?”

He slid his hands down her body before scooping her up by the thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist. His constrained cock pressed against the heat between her legs, aching to feel her. “A feral stray with a chip on his shoulder,” he said, dragging his teeth along her pulse.

“Feral, hm?” she teased, her voice breathless as he continued to lavish attention across her neck.

“What would they think? The pretty, Parisian bluebird caught in the jaws of a murderous beast?” He felt her heart rate accelerate under his touch, her thighs clenching at his words. “But I think you’d like that. Would you like a little danger, love?”

“Yes,” she exhaled, then kissed him again, as hungry and needy as he felt. “All I ever wanted was you.”

If he was a cat, those words would have conjured a rumbling purr. But he was hound, a wolf, so he growled instead, and carried her into the closest room, the dining room. He dropped her onto the expensive, polished wood and undid her belt. He glanced up at her, asking permission before he ripped her jeans off of her. She gave a hurried nod, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, and he removed them swiftly, revealing her white panties and gorgeous legs.

“The amount of times I’ve dreamed about this,” he said, lowering to his knees in front of her.

She pulled her jumper over her head, and his brain short circuited as he stared up at her. She was braless, her perfect tits bouncing freely on her chest, nipples tight and rosy with arousal. “Me too,” she admitted, combing her fingers through his hair.

He rose up to kiss her, pressing her back against the wood. He moved a little more slowly now, savoring her taste rather than devouring it, making note of every hitch in her breathing, every flutter of her heart. With unhurried care, he kissed down her throat, along her collarbones, between the valley of her breasts, before wrapping his lips around a taught nipple. She loosed a soft moan, arching into his touch.

He lingered there for awhile, nipping and sucking at her tits until she mewling for him, her hips rocking against the hard plane of his stomach.

“Sirius, please,” she whined, tugging at the roots of his hair.

He gave a soft tsk. “Is it too much, love?” he asked, lifting his head.

Her answering glare could raze all of England.

Sirius chuckled and started kissing down her stomach, lowering back onto his knees between her legs. “I promised I would take care of you, didn’t I?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer, couldn’t stand to wait another second himself, and dragged his tongue over the soaked gusset of her panties.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Ohh,” You moaned, your head falling back.

Sirius’ fingers hooked around your underwear, tugging the fabric aside, and his tongue finally connected with your clit, setting your brain on fire. He was slow and steady at first, exploring every inch of you before picking up the pace until he was ravaging you, feasting on your pussy like a man starved.

Already, you were barreling towards release, the coil in your pelvis winding tighter, tighter, until your whole body was thrumming with tension.

“So fucking perfect,” Sirius praised, flicking your clit with the tip of tongue with maddening softness.

“Sirius, please—fuck,” you panted, nails scratching along the wood table.

He stopped suddenly, rising to his feet and looming over you. “Please, what?” he asked, eyes dark, facial hair shining with your slick.

“Fuck me.” You grabbed at his belt, undoing the latch and fumbling with his zipper.

He let out a low chuckle, his hand sliding between you, two fingers dragging through your heat before easing inside. You let out a keening cry, hips bucking into the palm of his hand. “This what you wanted, darling?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to suppress a frustrated whine.

“No?” He removed his hand and undid his pants to free his cock, the head an angry red, slick with precum. He tapped it against your clit, shooting sparks of pleasure through your body. “How about this?”

“God, Sirius. Stop fucking around,” you snapped, grabbing at his collar to pull him in for a kiss. But he resisted, smirking down at you.

“So impatient,” he teased, sliding his cock through you slit, lubricating himself. Driving you fucking mad. “You want me to ruin this spoiled pussy?” he asked, notching the head at your entrance.

“Please,” you whimper, desperation driving you to tears.

“Oh, bluebird,” he cooed, catching a tear with his thumb. “My sweet girl. How could I ever say no to you?” With a punishing stroke, he buried himself to the hilt, splitting you open on his cock.

You cried out, collapsing onto the table, the feeling exquisite and brutal, ruinous.

“Bloody hell, angel. Like a fucking vice,” he rasped, drawing his hips back before surging forward again. You grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer and capturing his lips with yours in a rough kiss. He fucked you slowly, deliberately, while dominating your mouth with his tongue, claiming you as his. And you fucking loved it.

You were sure he meant ‘ruin’ physically, but he had ruined you in other ways as well. You were ruined for any other man. None would compare to him, none ever had, even if you didn’t know it at the time. You were his, a bluebird caught in the jaws of a predator, and you were more than happy to let him eat you alive.

His buried his face in your neck, licking and biting the skin there, ratcheting you that much closer to your peak. He must have felt your walls contract because he amped up the pace, fucking you mercilessly. Pouring gasoline on the fire, he reached between you and started circling your clit with his middle finger, the metal of his rings like ice against your heated skin, and the coil in your stomach snapped.

You came with a scream, your whole body shattering as it laid waste to your nervous system.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own high. He grabbed your shoulder with his free hand, holding your body down against his as you rode out your orgasm, driving deeper, harder than before.

“God, Sirius,” you cried, another orgasm riding on the tails of the first, your muscles shuddering around him.

“You can do it, darling. C’mon,” he panted, before loosing a long moan, his hips flush with your as his cock bucked inside of you, pumping you full of his release. The sensation plunged you over the edge once more, bliss spilling through your blood like ink as you milked him dry.

He collapsed onto you, breathing hard. You wrapped your arms around him, your movements sluggish, and nuzzled into his shoulder as contentment settled over you. He peppered small kisses against your hair, wandering fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin just to feel you tremble beneath him.

Sirius let you bask in the afterglow for a few moments before hauling you up against his chest. He used his shirt to clean the mess you both made, then carried you down the hall and into a bedroom. His, you presumed. He set you on the edge of the luxurious, four-poster bed before turning to retrieve a pair of pajamas.

“Sirius,” you said, voice small as doubts began to circle in your mind.

He immediately dropped the pajamas and returned to your side, smoothing a strand of hair from your face. “What is it, love? Are you hurt?” he asked, brows knitted together in concern.

Suddenly, you couldn’t find the words. “I, did you do this just to make me feel better?” you asked, flushing at how pathetic you know you sound.

He blinked, tilting his head. “Y/n, I’ve been waiting to do that since I was old enough to want to do that. I’ve wanted you for years and years.” He cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “I’ve waited for you my entire life, bluebird.”

Tears well in your eyes, and you let him draw you in for a kiss. Not a hungry, frantic kiss like before, but a soft one, full of emotion, over a decade worth of words unsaid.

You had waited your entire life for him too, your sad-eyed boy, and nothing in the world would keep you apart again.

Fin 🐦

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thank you so much for reading!

If you're interested in exploring more of my writing, you can read my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

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devilish-cherry · 16 days ago

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choso relationship headcanons pt 2 ♡

ᨳ♡₊➳ choso x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack, fluff

ᨳ♡₊➳ part one

ᨳ♡₊➳ me, not posting content for months: 🛌💤

also me the second choso crosses my mind: 🧍‍♀️💻🔥

i abandoned you all for two months but crawled out from under my rock at the call of my choso thirst alone. brand consistency is on point. nature is healing. please accept these headcanons as a humble offering before i crawl back into my hole. 😌🖤

₊⊹. choso's idea of waking you up gently is hovering over your sleeping form silently, staring until your soul feels his presence, and you wake up in sheer terror. "good morning," he deadpans, genuinely puzzled by your startled gasp. "were you dreaming badly?"

₊⊹. choso insists on watching those overly dramatic soap operas with you because his memories vaguely recall his vessel's grandma watching them. now he's deeply invested in the plot. you find him dramatically yelling at the tv, "do not give him the rose, mari! he betrayed your trust!" if you miss an episode, he's like, "i have updates. you will not believe who betrayed who."

₊⊹. he's surprisingly good at video games once he learns them, but is personally betrayed whenever your animal crossing villagers move out. you find him softly murmuring to your switch, "was my hospitality inadequate?"

₊⊹. choso discovered cooking tutorials on youtube exactly once and now he's committed to mastering japanese cuisine. unfortunately, it usually ends up with rice burnt to the bottom of your favorite pan. he always looks so earnestly distressed, blinking at the scorched remains, "this isn’t how chef kenichi said it would turn out…"

₊⊹. once he found out houseplants increase serotonin, your apartment basically turned into a botanical garden. he gets emotionally attached to each plant. you swear you've caught him softly reassuring a succulent, "you are doing well. keep photosynthesizing."

₊⊹. he knows how to use chopsticks, shake hands, and make a dentist appointment, all thanks to his vessel, but he has never emotionally processed any of those things. he does them like he’s cosplaying a civilian. that’s why he answers the door for the delivery driver by simply saying, “greetings.” and then doesn’t move to take the bag. just stares. the driver glances at the food, at choso, back at the food, like maybe this is a very elaborate mugging. you quickly jump in and handle the transaction while choso whispers to you, “they were unusually tense. suspicious?”

₊⊹. choso genuinely thinks the "don't talk to me until i've had my coffee" mugs you bought ironically mean you require silence in the morning. so every dawn, he sits in complete silence next to you, handing you coffee with reverence like you’re some ancient deity who must not be angered.

₊⊹. he knows how laundry works, in theory. but the first time you ask him to handle it, he somehow ends up washing your whites with a vibrant red hoodie. now everything you own is pink. he looks at you, tilting his head slightly. "pink suits you. i improved your wardrobe."

₊⊹. he doesn’t fully get sarcasm, so when you joke, "wow, love that for us," after you both spectacularly burn dinner, he nods sincerely, "i also appreciate our unified failure." he eventually adopts your sarcastic sense of humor but misses the delivery entirely, resulting in gems like, "oh great, another sunny day. precisely what we needed." completely serious, staring at a cloudless sky.

₊⊹. he tries to cheer you up by sending animal videos he discovers online but sends you bizarrely intense wildlife survival clips instead. "look, love. it's a meerkat narrowly escaping death. inspiring, isn't it?"

₊⊹. your first time visiting a pet cafe was his personal awakening. now, whenever he's stressed, you inevitably end up at the local cat café watching him silently commune with the cats. "they understand," he assures you while cradling a grumpy-looking cat named 'pancake'. "we should consider joint custody of this cat."

₊⊹. he knows what a “joke” is. he even knows the formula. set up → punchline → laughter. but when he tries to tell one, it’s like watching someone who read about humor but has never experienced it. he also always forgets the punchline halfway through and solemnly finishes, "i'm sorry. this was supposed to be humorous."

₊⊹. choso likes to hold hands, but doesn't quite understand when it’s socially acceptable. you once ended up awkwardly holding his hand while explaining to your landlord why the sink was broken, choso calmly beside you, fingers entwined, giving zero context.

₊⊹. choso tries texting you once, but doesn't understand emojis. you receive an ominous message: "Come home. 🔪🍅" and spend the entire day convinced something horrifying awaits you. turns out, he just wanted help cutting tomatoes.

₊⊹. choso believes firmly in quality cuddle sessions. he doesn't ask; he merely strategically drapes himself nearby until you notice and concede. you finally ask why he doesn't just say he wants cuddles, and he blinks slowly. "that seems aggressive."

₊⊹. choso finds diy tutorials online and tries them secretly to surprise you. spoiler alert: he’s hilariously bad at them. you've come home to questionable-looking clay mugs, half-painted canvases, and one very strange knitted... something. he presents each with absolute sincerity, "it is handmade. by me."

₊⊹. he randomly gives you head pats but doesn’t understand the social nuance, sometimes patting your head gently during serious conversations. "this is comfort." he declares, clearly satisfied with himself.

₊⊹. you once sarcastically called him “my strong little man” after he carried a heavy grocery bag. this man did not talk for an hour. he was processing. he sat down with a glass of water and said, “i am not little. but i am... yours.” you almost choked.

₊⊹. choso is basically your shadow in public places because he learned from his vessel's memories that partners stay close. sometimes so close he accidentally steps on your heel repeatedly. if you ever ask him for more space, he just blinks, totally deadpan. "i am ensuring your safety."

₊⊹. one day, you jokingly said, "ugh, i’d marry whoever does the dishes tonight," and you've never seen choso move so fast in his life. the plates nearly shattered from his enthusiasm alone.

₊⊹. if you ask him to pass you a towel while showering, he reaches into the bathroom with his eyes dramatically shut tight. his determination to respect your privacy while also being helpful is ridiculously endearing.

₊⊹. despite his perpetual resting bored face, choso genuinely believes everything you do is incredibly cool. you open a tricky jar? "incredible strength." you manage to fix the wifi router? "unmatched technological prowess." he looks at you like you're simultaneously beyoncé and albert einstein incarnate. it’s honestly adorable.

₊⊹. sometimes, he stares at your shared life, photos, plants, mugs, and mutters to himself, “i never thought i’d have this.”

#jujutsu kaisen #choso #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk #jjk crack #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #choso kamo x reader

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jellofish-plant · 4 months ago

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Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader Headcanons

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

Master List

Warnings:

Mentions of Jason’s past trauma (his death and resurrection are lightly referenced).

Gotham’s usual grit and danger.

Light angst mixed with fluff.

Summary: A collection of headcanons exploring what it’s like to be in a relationship with Jason Todd. From quiet moments of vulnerability to his fierce protectiveness, these glimpses show the many layers of the man behind the Red Hood.

Author’s Note: Hi, lovely readers! 🖤 Thank you for visiting my blog and checking out this new piece. I love diving into Jason’s character and imagining how he’d express love and loyalty in a relationship, and I hope you enjoy reading these headcanons as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Feel free to like, reblog, or leave a comment—I’d love to hear your thoughts.

1. Protective but Respectful

Jason has an almost instinctive need to protect you, especially given his traumatic past. However, he’s not overbearing. He respects your independence and knows you can handle yourself.

That said, if he thinks you’re in danger, he won’t hesitate to show up unannounced, armed to the teeth, just in case.

2. Affectionate in His Own Way

Jason isn’t the most openly affectionate person in public, but he shows his love through small, meaningful gestures: leaving notes in your favorite book, making sure your favorite snacks are stocked, or holding your hand when no one’s watching.

In private, though? He’s a cuddler. He loves having you close, whether it’s holding you while you’re watching a movie or burying his face in your neck after a long night.

3. Intellectual Connection

Jason is incredibly well-read thanks to his love of literature from his time with Bruce. He loves discussing books with you, sharing his favorites, and hearing your thoughts on them.

He secretly adores it when you recommend a book to him, especially if it’s something outside his usual genres.

4. Humor and Wit

Jason has a sharp wit and loves to make you laugh, even if his humor is a little dark sometimes. He’s quick with sarcastic remarks and loves when you can match his banter.

If you’re ever feeling down, he’ll try to lighten the mood with ridiculous antics—like showing up in his Red Hood gear but with a goofy apron over it, claiming he’s your personal “hero-chef.”

5. Shared Quiet Moments

Some of Jason’s favorite moments are the quiet ones, where you’re both just existing in each other’s company. Whether you’re reading on the couch while he cleans his weapons or you’re cooking together, those moments ground him.

He often falls asleep on your shoulder or with his head in your lap during these quiet times. It’s one of the few ways he truly relaxes.

6. Fiercely Loyal

Jason’s loyalty to you is unwavering. Once he’s let you into his heart, you’re family, and he’ll do anything to protect and support you.

He also expects the same loyalty in return. Trust is crucial to him, and if you’re honest and open with him, he’ll cherish you all the more.

7. Struggles with Vulnerability

Because of his past, Jason struggles to open up about his emotions. He doesn’t want to burden you with his trauma or his fears, but over time, he learns to trust you enough to share those parts of himself.

When he does open up, he appreciates how patient and understanding you are. Your support means everything to him.

8. Playful Teasing

Jason loves to tease you, especially if it makes you laugh. He’ll playfully steal your snacks, mimic your quirks, or challenge you to silly bets (which he’ll let you win most of the time).

If you manage to catch him off guard or tease him back, he’s secretly impressed and enjoys the back-and-forth.

9. Intense Protectiveness in Battle

If you ever find yourself in danger while he’s in his Red Hood persona, Jason is relentless. He’ll fight with everything he has to keep you safe.

However, if you’re capable of holding your own in a fight, he’s the first to cheer you on (while subtly watching your back). He’s proud of your strength and resilience.

10. Love Through Actions

Jason isn’t great with words when it comes to expressing his feelings, but he shows his love through his actions. Whether it’s fixing something around the house, bringing you your favorite coffee, or checking in with you after a long day, he always finds ways to make you feel cared for.

He has a habit of leaving small gifts for you—like a flower he found on patrol or a rare book he thought you’d love.

11. Dealing with His Darkness

Jason has dark moments where his anger and guilt resurface, but you’re his anchor. Just your presence helps calm him, reminding him that he’s not alone.

He deeply values how you don’t try to “fix” him but instead accept him for who he is, scars and all.

12. Adventurous Dates

Jason isn’t one for traditional dates. Instead, he takes you on thrilling adventures—riding through Gotham on his motorcycle, exploring abandoned buildings, or stargazing on rooftops.

Despite his love for adventure, he’s also happy to spend a quiet night in with takeout and a movie, especially if it means being close to you.

13. The Family Factor

Jason is hesitant to introduce you to the Batfamily at first, but once he does, he’s fiercely proud to have you by his side.

You quickly become the peacekeeper between Jason and his siblings, often mediating playful (or not-so-playful) arguments between him and Dick or Tim.

Alfred adores you, and Bruce is quietly relieved to see Jason happy again, even if he won’t admit it out loud.

#Jason Todd x Reader #Red Hood x Reader #Jason Todd Headcanons #Batfamily #Gotham City #Fluff with a Dash of Angst

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hoarding-stories · 10 months ago

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Noshir really was the quiet mvp of Downfall

The Emissary didn't do very much, but what they did, every interaction, was so informative and impactful, from talking to his mother and Asha to ending the Factorum Malleus.

The way Noshir embodied the Emissary both physically and with his almost grinding voice was masterful! Seeming for all the world like an 8-foot towering creature of stone and ice

And god, those last few scenes! The Emissary admitting he was scared! The switch to a child's voice after death where all he wished was to be reunited with his mother was to me legitimately the hardest hitting thing that happened, just instant tears. Noshir then stepping in finally as the Lawbearer and showing her perspective and reasoning, going in for that last shot with her asking the Wildmother, her wife, to tell her all about her son, *chefs kiss*

#critical role #cr spoilers #cr downfall #cr downfall spoilers #just augh #kudos to noshir for making the choice to not play a god #but still having the same lasting impact

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darknight3904 · 5 months ago

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All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The first month in Jackson passes by slowly. Joel wishes you'd confront him about the past but fear has your lips sealed tight.

Warnings: 18+ Language, SA (Not by Joel), Starvation, Animal Death, Eating Disorders, Plastic boobs, and Lingerie (do we need a warning for those things?) Joel and Reader are pros at avoiding the elephant in the room!

Word Count: 4.1k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

I didn't have much time to edit this one so sorry if there are typos :)

December 31, 2023

Joel carefully set the table according to Maria's directions. His new sister-in-law had decided that a New Year's Eve dinner would be appropriate for this year. Of course, drinks with the rest of the community at the Tipsy Bison would follow.

He eavesdropped on Ellie and Tommy's conversation from the other room.

"And then, you just keep mixing like this." Tommy explained, "And then...slowly fold in the sugar."

"You're pretty good at this." She compliments

"Had a real good teacher."

When he and Ellie stepped into the warm home, Joel could hardly believe what he was seeing. His younger brother was wearing a purple and green apron, baking a fleet of cupcakes to share with the rest of Jackson. Twenty years ago, Tommy would've eaten half-frozen pizza bites and dubbed it "a healthy dinner."

Joel had no idea how Maria had turned his brother into the Pillsbury Dough Boy, but he had to admit it was one of the funnier things he'd seen in a while.

Speaking of Maria, Joel swore he'd eventually win her over. He was pretty sure she was slowly warming up to him. After all he'd only been in Jackson a month or so and here he was invited to a family dinner.

"Dude, your brother is like...the best baker in the world," Ellie says as she shuffles into the dining room.

"Really? Last time I saw him he was still burning Chef Boyardee." Joel teases

"That was years ago, asshole!" Tommy's voice calls to defend himself, "I'm a great cook now. Besides I don't recall you being some Master Chef, Joel."

"Two days you burned that bacon I brought home from that Jesse kid," Maria said flatly as she checked on the ham in the oven.

"You're not helping."

"I wasn't trying to."

The sudden gust of cold air has Joel turning his attention the the front door that has slammed against the wall behind it.

"Shit, it's so windy out there!"

He'd know that voice anywhere, how could he forget it? Ever since his arrival in Jackson, he practically heard it every time he closed his damn eyes.

Joel watched as you hung your coat up and pulled your boots off before greeting Maria who was already standing there with open arms. He awkwardly stood as you greeted Tommy with the same amount of enthusiasm before letting your gaze fall on him.

He feels his mouth dry up as you take him in. What is he supposed to say? Hi? Long time no see? Sorry, I broke up with you and then the world ended?

Lucky for him a certain 14-year-old is there and always ready to fill the silence.

“Hi, I'm Ellie.”

Joel watched as she bounced right up to you, eager to get to know the new stranger.

“I know…I've uh seen you around the stables.” You say slowly

“Oh yeah! That foal Shimmer she's super cute!”

Dinner is awkward or well, Joel is awkward. He sits next to Ellie and listens to her talk your ears off about this and that, mostly mundane things like her comics or fun facts about space. You listen intently, adding comments here and there and Joel's reminded of the way you'd listen to Sarah's ramblings.

Tommy nudges his foot under the table and Joel looks up to see Maria looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” He asks

“I was asking if you'd want to try your hand at patrol later this week. Tommy said you're not fitting in with any of the other jobs around here.” She says

The idea is a great one, truly. Joel has felt rather trapped the past month behind Jackson's huge walls. Leaving again would feel like a breath of fresh air.

“That’d be great.” He nods in thanks, thinking of how nice it'd be to do something other than bake bread or sweep stables.

“Good.” Maria smiles before turning to you, “And you, can show Joel the ropes.”

Joel nearly chokes on his food and he hears you sputter into your glass of water.

“What?”

Three days later and It's around 7 in the morning when Maria forces you and Joel out of the gates of Jackson. Mounted on horseback Joel follows your lead as you explain the basic route.

“We'll stop down at this mall today. Sweep for infected and people.” You say, “There's a Macy's that hadn't been cleared out yet, Ellie might like some of the girl's clothes there.”

Joel nods, he hasn't said anything much to you, only asking a few questions. Truly, he's not sure what to say. Does he start with small talk, the weather, how Shimmer is doing? Or does he dive right in to address what both of you dance around?

Joel follows you around, listening to you talk about the route, what you normally see, and how many people you've run into in the past few months. Unsurprisingly, he's good at all of it, asking the right questions and following your lead. Now, as you stand in the ruins of Greenpines Mall, you watch him sift through racks of the Juniors section of Macy's.

“Can I help?” You ask, probably tired of just standing there in silence and watching him.

“Uh, yeah. She's into space and dinosaurs. Probably a size small in everything but hoodies. Said she likes em’ oversized.”

You nod and walk to another rack, pushing different items aside and mumbling about how hard it was going to be to find a dinosaur in the teenage girl's section.

Joel stuffs a few items into his backpack and you're able to find a nice maroon sweatshirt.

“The men's section is that way.” You point to your left, “I'm gonna uh… go upstairs and grab some stuff for myself.”

“Should stick together.” Joel reasons, following where your finger points “Safer like that.”

You look at him and he hopes you can tell he's being fully serious. His brows pinch together, anticipating you'll reject him.

“Fine. But no complaining.”

Joel wasn't expecting to find himself in the lingerie section of the store. The embarrassed huff he lets out has you laughing. At least you were happy about all this.

“Quit whining, I just need a few new bras.” You sigh turning away from him as he stands there, making sure his eyes remain fixed on the floor.

Just because the world had ended didn't mean he wanted to be surrounded by racks of ladies' underwear and bras.

You only get about twenty steps from him and he takes a small step back, bumping into something tall. A loud curse falls from his lips as he tries to catch the mannequin he's knocked over.

“God bless it…” He groans, trying to stand her back up.

He catches the way you roll your eyes when his hands land on the mannequin's plastic tits, perfectly obscured bythe red lace of some skimpy overpriced thing.

He didn't mean to do that, he swears.

“Maybe don't grope the models, Joel.” You tease

“I'm not.” Joel snaps, finally getting it to stand again, “Walked into it by accident.”

“Sure you did.”

Joel didn't know what to expect from you today. Stony silence had been at the top of his list. Teasing him though? That hadn't been anywhere on his radar.

You're so different yet familiar at the same time, it's driving him up the wall.

He keeps his eyes on the floor as you hum an unknown tune, picking different things up for yourself, and muttering about sizing.

Joel lets out a grunt when you shove something into his chest.

“Give these to Ellie too.” You say, “In the apocalypse, a girl can never have too many sports bras.”

He doesn't bother looking at the fabric in his hands, trusting your judgment and simply moving to place it next to the shirts he's already picked up for Ellie.

The ride back to Jackson is quiet. No teasing words from you, and the horse's trotting fills the silence as a few birds chirp as they fly overhead.

The fact that you seem content not to mention anything from the past has Joel's stomach in knots. Surely you can't be okay with it all? He's spent the past month worrying about how he'd ever address any of it.

“We're not gonna talk about it?” He asks

“About what?” You ask “You mean the mannequin? I was just kidding about that, Joel.”

“About us.” He says quietly

A beat of silence and then,

“What do you want me to say, Joel?”

“Anythin’. Yell at me. Scream. Slap me.” Joel huffs, “Don't wanna spend time dancin’ around our past. Let it all out.”

You let out a scoff that has Joel's stomach dropping,

“I don't see why I should do any of that. It was 20 years ago, Joel. I've made my peace with it.”

Joel looks over at you, taking in the way the setting sun makes your features glow. Your gaze is fixed on the gates of Jackson. They're only half a mile away but they might as well be half a million with the way your gaze is so permanently fixed on them. All of a sudden, you're adamant about not looking at him.

A dozen things swarm in his mind. Half of him wants to get off his horse, pull you off yours and shake you until you come to your senses, to urge you to put him through the ringer and really let him have it. The other half of him is telling him that you look really good today and that he noticed your bra size has gone up since 2003.

God, he was losing it.

So many things that could be said, perhaps should be said yet all that comes out of him is,

“Alright, suit yourself.”

For the next two weeks, Joel doesn't see much of you. Every once in a while he peaks through the curtains of his own home, hoping to get a glimpse of you returning but, he never does.

Ellie of course, takes immediate notice of his window-watching and declares that he ‘has a huge crush on the horse lady next door!’.

To Joel's mortification, she takes this information to Maria who tells Tommy, and before Joel knows it he's being teased by his younger brother in his own damn home.

“And she doesn't know anything about you and her?” Tommy asks one evening over a glass of whiskey

“No. And I'm keeping it that way. So don't go running your mouth.” Joel says glaring at his younger brother.

Tommy raises his hands in Innocence.

“If Ellie finds out it won't be from me.” He says, “But she'll find out, eventually. You know that right, Joel?”

“No, she won't.”

You spend more time and effort avoiding Joel than you should. At first, you thought you might be able to work around your shared past, but you teased him on your one and only shared patrol shift. But, when Joel asked you to share your thoughts on the past, you had clammed up. It was then, half a mile from Jackson's gates that you knew you wouldn't be able to be friendly with him.

You didn't know what Joel wanted. He said he wanted you to scream at him, to curse him out about a three-month relationship that happened 20 years ago. And maybe, if he'd shown up a few years back with Tommy you might've. Instead, it's like your mouth has been glued shut about it all.

Over the past two weeks, your mind had conjured a thousand different things to say to him. Some are full of anger, others sadness. But, you never say any of them. Instead, you choose to avoid him, trading patrol shifts and even taking graveyard shifts at the wall to put distance between the two of you.

Maria had coined it one day after you invited her over for lunch so you could talk to her about her baby.

“You're scared.” She said after listening to the way you described not being able to confront him about it.

“Scared?” You scoff as you shove a spoonful of soup into your mouth, “He should be scared of me.”

“You're scared it'll happen all over again. That he'll leave you like he did back then.”

Maria was so wrong. Honestly, she was losing her mind. You chalked it up to the baby. Yes, that evil little fetus was probably munching away at her brain to grow its own. Ironic since Cordyceps pretty much did the same thing.

Scared? You weren't scared of Joel Miller. No, not in a thousand years.

Wednesday, January 21, 2024. A day that Joel was going to mull over probably for the rest of his life. After all, it marked the start of a friendship.

He was surprised to find you already in the stables, ready for patrol for the day. Finally, you'd turned up instead of some random person you'd found to switch shifts with.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He says, the name flying off his tongue before he can stop it.

You shoot him a look he can't quite place as he saddles up his horse, Turnip.

“Don't do that.” You huff as you stroke your own horse, Pepper's mane avoiding eye contact with him.

“What?” Joel asks dumbly knowing full well you mean the nickname he'd let slip.

How many times had he called you that back in the day? Over the three months, it must've been well over a thousand.

“ Don't give me little nicknames with that stupid voice of yours and pretend you don't know what you're doing.” You scold

“Sorry.” Joel sighs, pulling himself onto his horse as you saddle up, “Wait you think my voice is stupid?”

The day goes by smoothly. No infected or people to be seen. Joel is surprised when you point out deer tracks. 20 years ago you'd shuddered at the idea of blood, now you were plotting the demise of some deer that wasn't even here.

“It's probably long gone.” He says

Your face falls in disappointment, “Really?”

“Tracks are old. There's snow drifts over a few of them too.” He points at the ground to the prints that are further up.

“Damn…I thought I had it this time.” You huff

“Tracking isn't easy.” Joel says, “Takes time.”

“Tommy's been teaching me, but I'm not really good at it.” You sigh

Joel feels jealousy swirl in his chest. What was he even jealous of? His married brother teaching his ex-girlfriend a vital survival skill in the apocalypse? There was something seriously wrong with Joel's brain these days.

“You're better than Ellie. She wouldn't have even seen the tracks, let alone been able to tell that it was a deer.”

“So you're saying I'm a bit better than a 14-year-old who doesn't even know what the Internet was?”

Joel shrugs and gives you a small smile.

“Thanks, Joel. I appreciate it.” You roll your eyes

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

A sharp glare is sent to him and he sits up a bit straight. Turnip snorts as he falls into step beside Pepper.

“Sorry, I'll stop. I swear.”

Joel watches as you munch away at deer jerky and dried pieces of fruit. He takes note of the way you practically engulf your lunch. He'd noticed the same thing a few weeks back at the New Years Eve dinner. You'd shoved your entire plate of the delicious ham Maria had made into your mouth in record time. Even Ellie had taken more time to eat the meal and Joel had recently watched the kid eat three cookies in what was basically one bite.

“Slow down.” He warns “You're going to choke.”

You look up from your food, staring at him with wide eyes and a stuffed mouth that probably would put chipmunks to shame.

“This is slow.” You say after you somehow swallow it all.

Joel raises a brow at that. Do you even realize you've put away nearly double what he had in half the time?

During your time together you'd often reminded Joel of a bird. Picking at different foods and then slowly eating whatever you deem good. In true college student fashion, most of those foods had been pizza and greasy Chinese takeout. Not that he could blame you, he also thoroughly enjoyed both of those things way back when.

The woman who sits In front of him is not the one he dated as a 35-year-old man. You're even eating the raisins out of the trail mix, and Joel knows you hate raisins.

“Just…take a breath. Drink some water.” He says, eying you carefully, pushing the canteen towards you.

You huff and unscrew the cap, drinking a bit before shutting it again.

“Happy?”

“Yes,” Joel says

Back on the horses, Joel notices the way you're looking a bit ill. Your face is screwed up a bit and he can tell you're nauseous. It's from eating too quickly, he can tell. You'd eaten all of your food and then when he'd offered some of his own, you'd enthusiastically taken him up on it. Normally he'd have no issues with it but it was the speed that concerned him.

“Wanna stop for a bit?” He asked, hoping you weren't going to puke onto poor Pepper's head.

You nod and quickly dismount from Pepper. Joel ties the horses off on a nearby tree before walking over to you. Patrol be damned, he had to make sure you weren't going to lose all the food you just ate.

You're curled up on yourself, your head resting on your knees as he sits down next to you.

“You okay?” He asks

“Sorry.” You mumble sadly into your knees

“For what?” Joel asks, “You're doing me a favor, getting me off that horse. My back is aching.”

“Sorry for being a glutton. I ate all my own food and then some of yours…” You groan, “I'm disgusting.”

“You're not a glutton.” Joel says, “Being hungry isn't a crime. Just gotta eat it slower. You're making yourself sick.”

You're silent for a moment, probably weighing your options as Joel runs his gloved hands through the snow. And then, in a voice so quiet it nearly missed it, you speak again,

“It's not my fault…”

Joel looks over at you, your head is back up, and you're focused on the threads of your jacket and the way they've begun to pull away from the seam.

“It's not my fault.” You say again, a bit louder again

“What's not your fault?” Joel asks, unsure of where this is going

“The doc at the clinic says it's…that it's because of the time I spent with them. It's because of them that I can't eat normally anymore.” You say sadly

“Spent time with who?” Joel asks

“Adam. And the others. Especially the leader, he was missing two teeth.” You say, staring at your hands

“Who's Adam?” Joel asks softly

He wants you to look at him, even just the smallest glance right now would bring him some peace of mind. This Adam, Joel wanted to know who he was, where he was, what he'd done.

All of a sudden, you're staring right at him, eyes glossed over with fear,

“No one.” You whisper “No one at all.”

May 2017

Loki had been dead for two weeks. Two weeks since you'd been tied to this tree, two weeks of no food and just stale water poured from the redhead's canteen in the middle of the night.

The redhead, Adam, pours you water each night after the others have passed out. He's supposed to be keeping watch, not making sure their newest toy is hydrated enough not to die.

“Slow down.” He says, the back of his hand on your head as he holds the canteen to your lips

When it's finally empty you look at him. He has blue eyes, something you hadn't taken note of before.

“You need to eat it. They won't give you anything else until you do.” He advises

Adam points at your feet where a small bag sits. You know what he's talking about. The leader, the one who reeks and is missing his two front teeth took special care to dry out a piece of your pet. Each day he'd demand you eat the jerky that was made from Loki.

“I can't.” You say

“They'll let you starve. I've seen it before with other girls.” Adam says, pulling a piece of the jerky out, “Just one bite, and I bet he'll give you deer tomorrow.”

“Why should I?” You hiss “Why should I bother eating? So I can be strong for whenever you want to use me? I'd rather starve than extend my time here with you.”

Adam looks at you, his face unreadable. You watch as he stands back up, backing away from you and your tree.

“Fine, starve then.”

Another week passes before he coaxes a bite of the jerky into your mouth. The leader sees this, and claps you on the back,

“What a good whore you're going to be.”

The next day, a small bowl of venison-filled soup is presented to you.

Adam spoons it into your mouth bite by bite cooing to you that you're doing so well.

When you've finished the bowl, you want to ask for more, but Adam has you standing up. Before you can protest or ask for more food, your pants have been ripped down to your ankles and Adam takes you against your tree.

Your hot tears begin to dribble down your face as you try to block out Adam's grunts.

The other men cheer when he finishes.

Warm cum drips down your legs as vomit pools in your throat, you lose the soup and the last bit of your dignity with it.

Your days are long. You spend most of them on your back or on your belly. The other men are content with this, just wanting the warmth of a woman here at the end of the world.

The worst of it though is whenever the leader, who you've dubbed the Walrus since no one ever says his name, puts you on all fours beneath him.

You quickly learn that the Walrus has a kink for pain. Or well, inflicting it. You don't get to see them, but each night Adam cleans your back and inner thighs, changing bandages and keeping the cuts from the Walrus’ knife clean.

The Walrus also takes delight in giving you what was basically toddler-sized portions of food. A couple of bits of jerky one day, followed by three small spoonfuls of beans the next. He laughs whenever he sees you watching the men eat. He'll say something about women not deserving more than what he's already giving you before walking off.

You swear that you're going to be nothing but a pile of bones as the days roll by.

At night, Adam feeds you more food. In exchange you let him pepper your skin with kisses. It turns out that if you pretend to like it, not only is he gentler when he puts himself inside, but he'll also bring you more food.

Some nights you're so full it feels like you'll burst. Adam gets what he wants, a fake lover, and you get what you want, a full belly.

Winter 2024

You're silent during the ride back into Jackson. You whisper something to Pepper and Joel finds himself asking if he can walk you home. Physically you're right next to him but mentally? Joel can tell you're not there, you're trapped in some memory, for your sake, he hopes it's a good one.

He walks you right up to your front porch and watches as you fumble with your keys. He says your name out loud for the first time in 20 years and you're snapping out of whatever trance you were in.

“I know you don't want to talk about us…but I…I don't want to be a stranger to you.” He says honestly

Joel can't lose you. He doesn't want to, not again. Fear be damned, he was going to keep you by his side this time.

“Can we…can we be friends?” He asks slowly

He can tell you're tossing it around your brain, thinking it over.

“Okay.” You say after a moment, “We can be friends.”

Next Part

I hope I was clear enough but:

For those that can't tell, basically in the current time the reader has a fear of food being withheld the way it was with Adam. The result is binge eating until she's sick from it. She basically views food as a safety blanket of sorts and is scared that it'll disappear if she doesn't consume it.

And yes, Joel's return into her life will slowly fix this issue.

Updates are going to be slower since I have finals coming. Hope you can bear with me and please pray I pass my math one. It's a core class and I need her to keep going in my major ❤️

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly @orcasoul @snowlycanroc @freythecrazyfae

@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods