#I added a new chapter and I’m too lazy

[diettwistup]

HALF OF YOU

PAIRINGS: tashi duncan x f!oc, art donaldson x f!oc, patrick zweig x f!oc

SUMMARY: No matter how bright Tashi Duncan shined, her best friend, Milan Mikaelson, wasn’t far behind. Though seeming second best, Milan would never let that define her career. Holding as much fame as Tashi, Milan encountered Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson. Would this encounter change the trajectory of her life, and would it completely alter her relationship with Tashi Duncan?

WARNINGS: challengers spoilers, reader is milan mikaelson, sexual situations, language, angst, plot alterations.

WC: 5.1K

NOTES: hiiii!!! hope y’all enjoy this next chapter cuz it’s not my fave thing ever LOL. was also too lazy to proofread so sorry if there's errors. i’m also gonna be going on vacation with no internet for a little over a week so next update will be after that! thanks for reading luv u 💋

READ BEFORE THIS: INTRO and ONE

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE TROUBLE

CHALLENGERS TOURNAMENT, NEW ROCHELLE - 2019, 1:00 PM

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I gripped my dress as Tashi got up and cursed before walking off, disappointed with Art’s performance. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going.” I shot and grabbed her wrist, eyeing her up as I took my sunglasses off. 

Shaking my grasp off of her, she bent down and spoke dangerously close to my face. 

“If he’s not gonna play tennis, then I don’t wanna see shit.” She seethed and walked off, brushing off her dress with each stride. 

As I watched her go, I could feel a pair of eyes on me. Darting my attention back to the match, Art was already looking my way. 

Shooting him a sad expression, I put my sunglasses back on, huffed, and sat back in my seat. 

All he did was shake his head and rub the sweat off his face while Patrick smirked proudly. 

He sure seems to love this. 

Sighing, I raised one hand to my mouth to bite my nails, the nerves of the match taking over my entire being. 

At the next serve, I carefully watched the strategic movements behind the boy’s every motion. They have always been outstanding players, and I furrowed my brows as I thought back to the first time I saw them play against each other. 

The stupidity of Tashi and I, dumb enough to pin two best friends against each other. We should have never stepped foot in that godforsaken hotel room. 

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes. The crowd's roar echoed around me as I thought back to the night that started it all. 

The night that ruined it all. 

THE BOY’S HOTEL- 2006, 12:00 AM

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” I exclaimed to Tashi as we made our way to the boy's hotel room. “Why the fuck would you let them come down when you knew I was there?” I shot at her as I smacked her arm. 

Tashi smacked me right back, making me let out a hiss and shoot a cold glare at her. 

“I don’t know why you're acting like you don’t have a game. You’re the best at playing hard to get.” Tashi responded and shrugged as if it was as simple as adding two plus two. 

“You’re a bitch.” I muttered and rolled my eyes as the hotel came into view. “What do you even plan on doing with these two.” I raised my brow at her and studied her expression to gauge what was going through her mind. 

“What we usually do,” she responded, smiling at me. Hypnotize them with our charm and have a good time, of course,” She said proudly as if this was second nature for us. 

I won’t say that Tash and I haven’t had our fair share of fun with boys, but something like this, with two boys who knew their way around the game themselves, was certainly daunting. 

“Fine, but you should have heard how they talked about us at your match. It was disgusting.” I pretended to gag and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Perfect, we already have them locked in then.” She nudged my arm before leading the way to the room.

Rolling my eyes, I smacked her again before following behind her.

On the way to the room, I got lost in my thoughts. How did we get ourselves into such a situation? I hope Tashi doesn’t expect us to have a foursome of any sort because I don’t have the patience to deal with a whole ordeal like that. 

Approaching the door, Tashi stopped to let me walk ahead of her. 

“Perfect, Mila, you can see your ass poking out of your shorts.” She smirked and gently patted it until I swatted at her hand with a laugh. 

“Fuck off, let’s go,” I scolded, waiting for her to catch up, as she knew which room to go to. 

Once we reached the door, Tashi knocked and softly bit her lip. Scuffling was immediately heard behind the door, signifying that the boys were startled by our appearance. 

I moved to press my ear to the door with a slight smirk which Tashi returned as she did the same. 

“They’re crazy…” I whispered to Tashi, to which she responded with a nod and a soft hum. 

When we removed our ears from the door, it swung open so quickly I couldn’t make out the motion. 

The boys stood at the door, looking extremely disheveled. Patrick wore boxers and an unbuttoned linen shirt that looked like it had been shoved in his tennis bag and forgotten. Also wearing boxers, Art wore a beater t-shirt that looked like it had never been in the wash and dryer a day in his life. Both of their hair was ruffled and unkempt, making it look like they had just gotten out of bed. 

Raising an eyebrow, I was the first to speak. “What, did you two just get done fucking?” I questioned as I looked between them and placed my hands on my hips. 

Patrick just burst out into laughter while Art spoke up. 

“No…fuck no…” He muttered with a laugh as he patted Patrick on the back. 

Drunk as sailors. 

I nodded at this before resting my eyes and glancing at Tashi, who smiled fondly at the two, but I knew she was plotting. 

“So, hi,” Tashi spoke calmly with a smile that immediately brought the boys back to Earth as they moved aside to let us in the room. 

I had to stop myself from covering my nose as we entered the room. 

Reeks of beer and cigarettes…typical boys.

Two beds pushed together were messily made. Beer cans, cigarette buds, and clothes were everywhere, though it looked like someone had tried to tidy up a bit. 

That explains all the noise. 

Patrick mindlessly spoke to Tashi as I continued to scan the room, not noticing that Art was eyeing me up. Turning my head, I caught his stare, which didn’t make him falter. He only continued to stare before coming up to me and handing me a beer. 

“Didn’t know you were gonna come.” He spoke as he looked down at me through lidded eyes. Tipsy eyes. And, of course, he had a smirk, but it spoke I’m glad you came, really. 

I continued to study his expression as I let my guard down a pinch. I shrugged nonchalantly as I took a long swig of the beer, knowing I would need it to get through the night. 

“Had nothing else to do. Figured why not.” I spoke calmly as I let my eyes rake over his entire figure, drinking up his messy look which he really really pulled off. Never would I ever admit that for him to hear. 

Or me. 

“Well, glad you’re here.” Art said as he took the beer can from my lips and sipped it while he stared into my eyes, flickering to my lips for a moment.

I kept my eyes trained on his as I refused to back down in this staredown, showing that I couldn’t be swayed that quickly just because he was extremely attractive. 

“You two, come sit,” Patrick spoke up from the ground by the bed where he sat with Tashi. 

Nodding at this, I waited for Art to take his eyes off mine before I made any movement to sit. After a few seconds, he nodded and placed a hand on my lower back to walk me to where everyone was sitting. 

I shivered slightly at this as I softly bit my bottom lip, hiding this motion from him, but I knew Tashi saw it by her smug little smile that said I told you so. 

We haven’t even done anything, and I suddenly feel like I’m in the trenches. 

The next couple minutes were used to discuss how Patrick and Art met each other and how Patrick, predictable enough, taught Art how to masturbate, all while we all took sips from the beer can that Art had given me when we first got here. 

“Y’all are weird as fuck.” I snorted, a bit tipsy, wiping my mouth from my last gulp as I looked between the two boys who had red cheeks from a mix of alcohol and embarrassment, and can’t forget, two big smirks. 

“No, Mila. I think it's a cute story.” Tashi nodded with a smile in an attempt to reassure the boys jokingly—a tactic she used to fully reel them in. 

I rolled my eyes at this and fake glared at Tashi. “Only if you’re fucked in the head!” I laughed again while the rest of them laughed with me. 

“Don’t tell me you two haven’t done anything weird like that,” Patrick said, making me whip my head to him before glancing back at Tashi.

“Yeah, you two have known each other since the womb. There’s no way you haven’t done nothing.” Art added and took a long swig of the beer can before passing it to Patrick, eyes trained on me for longer than I would have liked. 

I shook my head with a small laugh before looking back to Tashi, who gave me an eyebrow in return, signaling something.

You ready?

…

I’m ready.

We nodded at each other before standing up and looking down at the boys. 

“You guys aren’t leaving-“ Patrick started but stopped when he saw the two of us moving to sit on the edge of the bed. 

My eyes locked with both of them briefly as I flashed the most innocent smile I could muster. 

Here we go. 

“Patrick, come sit by me…” Tashi spoke and patted the space to her left. 

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He sprung up so fast he spilled the beer can everywhere on the carpet, but he couldn’t give a fuck. 

As he sat down next to Tashi, my eyes locked onto Art’s. I did not need any words to tell him to sit by me. 

He took the hint immediately, got up almost as fast as his best friend, and sat beside me, thigh already touching mine.

I turned to face him with lidded eyes and a small smile. I could hear his breath hitch as Adam’s apple bobbed, signifying that he took a small gulp. I softened my eyes to let him know it was okay to relax and that he could be comfortable around me. 

Even though Tashi wanted to play with these boys like putty, I felt a little different about the situation. 

As I tilted my head at Art slowly, I saw his face contort into a grin that radiated his comfort and need. 

Leaning in slightly, I placed my hand on Art’s chest, noting how firm it felt through his thin shirt. Art mirrored my leaning in but instead placed a hand on my thigh. As I neared his lips, I teasingly pulled away as I felt Tashi pat my back. I smirked slightly at this and turned around as my lips met hers instead of Art’s.

It was an innocent kiss, a tactic to get these boys right where we wanted them. This action certainly answered their questions about us, and I hope it was worthwhile.

Once again, I could feel Art’s eyes piercing the back of my head, so I moved my hair off my shoulder and tapped the side of my neck so he would know what to do. 

Almost immediately, his lips were latched onto my neck. I wondered for a moment if he was a vampire because of the way he was sucking on my neck. I figured he was searching for a blood vessel. Poor baby must have been deprived of any female touch, but the way his lips sucked profusely on my pulse point, I could tell this wasn’t his first rodeo.

Tashi and I pulled away from our innocent kiss and shot each other small smirks when we noticed that Patrick and Art were too lost in our necks to give a damn. 

I tapped Art’s thigh so he would know to stop, which he reluctantly did. His lips were a bit swollen, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off them. Biting my lip, I reached up and brushed a finger across his bottom lip. As I did this, Art grabbed my hand and studied it before gently kissing my finger where my nail had broken. My eyes widened at this as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. 

Keep. your. composure. 

Shaking out of my daze at his action, I smiled softly once again and leaned in slowly to connect our lips, hands on the back of his neck, threatening to tangle in his blonde curls.

Pillows. His lips feel like pillows.

The kiss was soft until his hand moved from my thigh to my waist. He pushed forward a bit until my back fully hit Tashi and tried to part my lips by biting my bottom one, but I pulled away before he could get that far. 

Too easy.

Licking my lips to taste him, I turned back to Tashi, who placed her hand on my cheek to kiss me lightly again. As her lips melded with mine, I gingerly placed a hand on the base of Art’s jaw and slowly pulled him towards Tashi and me’s kiss. Immediately, I could feel Art’s lips meld with Tashi's, mine, and then Patrick’s, knowing that Tashi had done the same with him. 

Now, the four of us were all kissing, making me slightly clench my thighs. Only slightly. 

After about five seconds, I felt Tashi tap my back to signal me to pull away slowly. 

As we both pulled away, Art and Patrick were full-on making out, not noticing that the two of us had abandoned the kiss. I glanced at Tashi with a smirk as she watched them in satisfaction. 

It took everything in me not to giggle as I watched the two continue to eat each other's faces fervently. 

Specifically Art.

After a beat, Tashi spoke up. 

“Okay.” She said, which made the boys freeze and pull away from each other. 

Immediately, they both looked at us in shock. 

Got ‘em. 

I tilted my head at Art as I gently reached my hand out to trace shapes on his thigh while he looked down at me like I had three heads. 

“That was cute…” I mouthed to him with a soft smile as he continued to eye me up in shock mixed with a bit of awe. 

“Well, we should get going before our parents freak out and wonder where we are,” Tashi says. I sit up as I follow suit, cutting any tension in the room.

Standing up from the bed, I chuckled to myself as I brushed off my clothes and fixed my hair. “It’s been fun,” I said, aiming my comment at Art. Thank you for having us,” I finished with a small, innocent smile as Tashi and I left. 

“Wait!” Patrick said which stopped us in our tracks. 

Turning around, Tashi and I shared matching grins that we quickly hid when we faced the boys. 

Art spoke up next as he looked right at me. “What about your numbers?” He asked as he stared at me like a puppy deprived of dinner. 

I crossed my arms and shrugged. “If you win tomorrow, I’ll give you my number,” I said plainly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. 

“And I’ll give you my number if you win tomorrow,” Tashi said to Patrick just as plainly as I did. 

Both boys shot each other smirks before nodding in agreement. 

Tashi and I said our goodbyes before leaving the hotel room. When we were out of earshot, we both started laughing. 

“We have them wrapped around our pretty little fingers!” Tashi exclaimed as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder. 

I laughed at this and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I really hope Art wins,” I said in a dreamy tone of voice as I thought back to his face, lips, chest, everything, really. 

Tashi shook me back and forth with a smile as she exclaimed, “I’m just ready to watch some good  fucking tennis!” She laughed, knowing that the two boys were really going to battle it out with this new prize put into motion. 

STANFORD UNIVERSITY - 2007 5:00 PM

As I slowly trudged from the tennis court to the dining hall, I felt my arms giving out. 

“Fuck this damn bag,” I whined and went to a nearby bench to take a breather and bask in the California sun. 

Today’s practice was by far the worst of the semester. I worked with my coach on my serve to prepare for my upcoming match, where I would face an opponent ranked decently high in the state. 

Closing my eyes and throwing my head back to catch the rays of the warm sun, I let out a groan. I probably looked like a corpse to every passerby, but just like Tashi, they knew me, so hopefully, they would just smile and wave. 

“Rough practice?” An extremely familiar and captivating voice snapped me back to reality. 

Opening my eyes, I was met with my favorite pair of light blue eyes—something he would never know. Of course, a smirk adorned his features, and his blonde curls were tucked into a backward red cap, most certainly saying “Stanford” on the flip side. 

“Art…” I spoke almost breathlessly as I sat up, brushed a piece of hair out of my face, and used my other hand to block the sun that Art’s head almost blocked. 

“Hey, can I sit?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, and nodded to where my bag was on the bench. 

Quickly moving it to sit in front of my feet, I patted the empty seat next to me. “Sure.” I smiled at him and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. 

Over the summer, I would never allow myself to be so forward with Art Donaldson. I couldn’t speak for my present self, though. Since Patrick won the match, he and Tashi started dating after he scored her number. I, of course, was too upset to act like I didn’t give a damn about not being able to give Art my number. Tashi insisted that to keep their passion and drive for tennis alive, I keep up my end of the deal and don’t give Art my number. Hesitantly, I agreed as I knew how easily a stimulus like that can create great results. Since the match, Art and I have never spoken except for the occasional hello when passing by each other on the tennis court or dining hall. This moment was the first time I could speak with him since everything, and since I may have developed a slight…crush. 

“So,” He started and turned his body on the bench to face me fully. “How have you been?” He tilted his head and tapped the back of the bench while studying my face. 

Inhaling a sharp breath, I turned my body to face him fully, bringing one leg up and letting the other drape off the side of the bench. 

“Do you want an honest answer?” I chuckled softly as I moved my hands to remove my hair from its braids. 

In turn, Art laughed gently while smirking at me. His stare narrowed as he studied my face, acting like I was an old friend he had known for years. 

“Well, if the honest answer is terrible and cruel, then I’m not so sure.” He responded and immediately matched my energy. 

Damn you, Donaldson. 

“Hey.” I softly laughed as I moved my dangling leg to kick his gently while I finished taking my hair out. 

I wondered for a beat how I wanted to summarize months of memories, feelings, and experiences into one sentence, and this made me sigh. 

“It’s been rough. Majoring in biology and the grueling tennis schedule makes me wanna rip my hair out.” I spoke in a low tone as I ironically and subconsciously began to play with a strand of my hair. 

“I feel smothered.” I finished and silently cursed myself for acting so vulnerable. 

That was three sentences, Milan. Not one. 

As I stared at Art almost helplessly, his eyes softened. 

“I feel the same way, trust me.” He chuckled softly before removing his hat and running a hand through his hair. “It really sucks, but it’s gonna be worth it,” He ended his thought before putting his hat back on. 

“Fuck, and I thought I was the only one. Quite naive of me.” I laughed before looking back up at the sun. “It’s whatever, though. You’re right, and everything will come into place and be worth it.” I continued as I looked anywhere but at Art’s piercing stare. 

Silence. He didn’t respond. He didn’t laugh. He did nothing except stare. Stare in a heavy silence that brought me back to the night in that damn hotel room. 

After a few beats, I returned to my senses, slowly stood up from the bench, and brushed my skirt off. 

“Well, I didn’t mean to stay here for long, so I’m gonna head off.” I went to pick up my bag as I spoke disappointedly. 

I couldn’t allow myself to fall into the trenches. I needed to focus on my studies and tennis. Hard work makes everything worthwhile, and a boy isn’t part of that everything right now.

“Wait, Milan,” Art spoke up and grabbed my wrist, his grip as firm as it would be if he held his racket. 

This made me freeze in my tracks. What the hell did he think he was doing? 

My eyes slowly met Art’s as I parted my lips to speak, but nothing came out, so he spoke for me.

“It’s been months, Milan,” he started, his grip on my wrist still firm, his eyes scanning my face for any hints of discomfort.  

“I know we only really talked with each other that one night and had no time to get to know each other, but I would like to get to know you better.” He didn’t falter. Not once. I don’t even think he blinked. 

My lips had gone dry, and my voice, for some reason, grew hoarse. 

“Art…” I slowly began as I looked down at his hand, gripping my wrists. “The four of us had a deal…” I made sure to tread lightly with a severe tone. 

Two feet and ten toes on the ground. Don’t falter. Don’t give in. 

“They’re a happy fucking couple, Milan. I doubt they give two shits.” He stated matter-of-factly as I felt his thumb rub up and down on my wrist. 

How naive. 

Biting my lip in thought, I began an internal battle with myself. I wanted this so bad. And I could tell Art wanted it just as bad as I did—possibly more. 

I deserve a win other than tennis. 

Sighing, I removed my arm from his grasp and moved to my tennis bag to look for a piece of paper. Instead, I found a piece of muscle tape and a small pencil. Quickly scribbling down my number, I could feel Art trying to see what I was doing. 

“Here,” I said with slightly red cheeks as I stood back up and handed him the piece of muscle tape. “Don’t go blowing up my phone now,” I playfully scolded before picking up my bag and walking past him, glancing at the triumphant smile playing on his perfect features. 

Perfect? …yeah. 

Before I began my trek to the dining hall, I touched Art’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. 

“I didn’t want to admit it, but I really wanna get to know you more, too.” 

NEXT DAY, STANFORD DORMS 11:00 AM

MEET ME IN THE DINING HALL FOR LUNCH?

My eyes stared at the text in utter disbelief. Art certainly didn’t take any time once he got what he’d been craving all summer. 

“Why do you look so shocked?” Tashi laughed from the foot of my bed as she hit my leg. 

Fuck. 

My eyes looked to her as I shut my phone, put it next to me, and picked my computer back up to pretend to look at my study guide for an upcoming biology quiz. 

“My mom sent me a weird text,” I laughed awkwardly before covering my face with my computer. 

“Are you fucking with me?” Tashi laughed as I heard her moving up towards my side of the bed. 

She shut my computer to look at my face, which was for sure red as a tomato. 

“You’re lying,” she smirked before sitting on her knees and clapping her hands. What is it? A boy? A girl?” She persisted as she grabbed my leg and widely smiled at me.

I rolled my eyes at this before clicking my tongue. “Why are you so dead set on the fact that I was texting someone romantically?” I crossed my arms and bit the inside of my cheek, probably a dead giveaway. 

Tashi’s face fell as her brows furrowed, and she crossed her arms, mimicking me. 

“You’re joking, right?” She started before studying my stern expression. “We’ve known each other for what, eighteen fucking years?” She used this as a tactic to crack me. “I know your every expression and what it means. I could write a thesaurus on you if I wanted to.” She stated as she sucked on her teeth, brows still furrowed. 

I stared at her sternly for a few beats before sighing and turning my head to look anywhere but at her. 

“Fine, you got me…” I trailed before uncrossing my arms to fumble with my fingers. “but this is the first time I’ve received a text, so it’s not important.” I put my hands up and looked at her as an explanation as to why she shouldn’t ask questions. 

I should know better. 

Tashi’s annoyed face instantly turned into a happy one as she bounced on the bed and continuously hit my leg. 

“Who is the lucky guy? or girl…” She tilted her head with a goofy smile, which she would only show me. 

“It’s a boy…” I sighed before turning my head to look at my closest, as it suddenly looked very interesting. 

No matter how long I had known Tashi, I couldn’t gauge how she would react to this. She’s a very pushy person who likes everything to go her way, but I’m hoping that since it’s me, she will react differently. 

She shrieked and shook my legs back and forth with a giggle. 

She’ll be so disappointed. 

“Who is it? Is it that cute boy I caught you practicing with the other week? Or that one boy that you sometimes study with from your Chemistry class? Or maybe it's that random guy from the baseball team I saw you talking within the dining hall last week?” She fired off in a millisecond as I stared at her in utter disbelief. 

“Okay, first of all, how did you know about all of those? And second of all, the first guy is gay, the second guy has a girlfriend, and the last one was giving my pencil back to me after using it for a quiz we took in statistics.” I responded as I rolled my eyes so hard I thought the whites of them would turn permanent. 

“I’m your best friend. I know everything.” She spoke eerily with wide eyes before breaking into a smirk. “So, come on! Tell me who it is!” She bounced repeatedly on the bed and shook me back and forth until I finally had enough. 

“Fine!” I exclaimed and threw my hands up in the air.

Fuck it. 

“It was Art, alright.” I threw my hands up as I bit the bullet and came clean. 

Tashi’s face dropped almost instantly as his name fell off my lips. She wasn’t happy. Not at all. 

“What the fuck do you mean?” She laughed in disbelief as she shook her head and moved her hands from my legs. 

I immediately sat up more and moved towards her. 

“I saw him after practice yesterday, and we got to talk,” I explained as I bit the inside of my cheek in anticipation. “He asked for my number, and I figured since everything happened months ago, there would be no issue…” I trailed off and looked her straight in the eyes with a pleading expression. 

Tashi just stared at me and shook her head slowly. 

“We had a deal with them…” She stared at me with an accusatory face. 

“Tash, I know,” I exclaimed and grabbed her hands. “But you knew I liked him more than what happened in that hotel room. Plus, you and Patrick are happy, so why should it matter?” I asked and shook my head as I gripped her hands. 

She stared at me as if I kicked her puppy and gasped in her throat. “Um, to keep their passion alive? To ensure they both strive for better and strengthen their relationship with tennis?” She spoke as if it was plain as day. 

Furrowing my brows, I slowly shook my head and parted my lips, shocked. 

“Is tennis all you care about?” 

I shouldn’t have said that. 

My words echoed in my mind as I retracted my hands from Tashi’s and bit my lip, feeling defeated. Her stare pierced into my soul as she looked away from me and placed her hands on her thighs. 

“If this is what you want, go ahead. I can’t and won’t stop you.” She spoke slowly before eyeing me. 

Fuck, I messed up. 

“But never think for a second that I care about tennis more than you.” She choked out as she looked at the picture of us in fifth grade sitting on my bedside table. 

At this, my eyes widened, and I nodded slowly as a single tear slid down my cheek. Moving towards Tashi, I wrapped my arms around her waist and hugged her. 

“Pinky promise?” I whispered into her neck while she returned the hug. 

“Pinky promise.” She responded and grabbed my hand to interlock our pinkies.

[number1jeonginstan]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a story in which hyunjin overstimulates y/n? And if you want, could you make y/n sensible and scared? Ty! I love your writing btw!

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to get this out, I’ve been kind of in a slump for writing and then I got the idea for what I should do because I was kinda struggling for a minute. I hope you liked it and I’m so thankful for the request! Thank you so much for your time and patience, I really appreciate it.

WC: 1.25k

Pairing: Hyunjin x (established relationship) afab!reader

Minors don't interact, 18+

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, some light slapping, good girl, baby, use of that stuff, idk what else tbh this was written at like 1 am

It was a lazy day between you and Hyunjin. Both still in your pajamas, you in silk shorts and one of his t-shirts, and him in his matching yellow and white checkered pajamas. You enjoyed this new mystery novel on his bed while he painted in his studio. It was the comfort of being next to one another that you had no idea what was yet to come. 

As you turned to the next page in your book, Hyunjin got up coming towards you. “Wanna have sex?” He asked, lying down next to you on the bed. You barely paid attention to him, too immersed in your book, simply humming. 

“Come on” he groaned lifting his head to you, “I need you baby” he huffed, still not eliciting a reaction from you. To try and get any reaction out of you, he began to run his fingers on your thighs. 

Ts when he ran his fingers along your thighs, placing wet kisses along your smooth thigh. “Jinnie, please” you whined “I want to finish this chapter, they are about to say who did it” 

“Wow, a book is more interesting than fucking your insanely hot boyfriend?” 

“Right now, yes!” you giggled, finishing reading the page you were on. Before you could even turn the page, he snatched the book out of your hand. “Don’t you dare fold the corner” you yelled, trying to snatch the book back. He giggled adding the bookmark he made you as a gift to mark the page. He got up and placed the book on his easel, far from your reach. 

“Fine” you groaned, falling back onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow. He walked back to the bed, crawling on top of you so his thighs locked yours in place. He placed a kiss on your lips, causing a giggle to leave your lips.

He moved to your neck, kissing and nibbling at the spot that drove you crazy. You could slowly feel yourself getting wetter. “Jinnie, please stop teasing” you whined, rubbing your thighs together to get any sort of stimulation. “I need you” 

“Be patient baby, we have all the time in the world”

He kissed your lips once again, trying to savor your taste. He began to move down your body, lifting your (his) shirt slightly to kiss your stomach, slowly moving down to your shorts. Without hesitation, he pulled down your shorts and underwear, throwing them somewhere in your shared room. 

“Fuck baby, this pussy is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” he ran his fingers across your folds, capturing your wetness and putting his finger in his mouth, licking it off his fingers. “And you taste even better” 

You moaned watching him, and before you could even say anything, he dove into your pussy. His plush lips kissed your clit as he slowly inserted one of his long fingers into your hole. You grabbed his hair in his hand, forcing him to eat you like a man starved, and he was happy to. 

He was licking every inch of your pussy, slowly inserting another finger to give you the extra stimulation you needed. His fingers were long, not as long as his cock, but longer than your own and he was skilled with them. It took him another minute for you to cum around his fingers, moaning his name as your walls clenched around them. 

He began to kiss down your thigh, his plush lips covered in your cum from eating you out. “Jinnie, please, need you” you whined.

“You are a greedy little girl aren’t you, just made you cum with my mouth and fingers, but you are still begging for my cock” 

He slapped your thigh lightly, moving so he was on top of you, in between your legs. “Fuck, you are such a slut” he groaned, pulling his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. The tip was already red, pre-cum slowly dripping out of the tip.

“Who’s the slut now?” you giggled, trying to joke around, but it only made Hyunjin to tease you more. Before you could react, he grabbed your face, making you look directly into his eyes. “If you keep acting like this, I’m going to fuck you like the little whore you are” 

“Sure Hyunjin, you can try and do that” You rolled your eyes, knowing that your boyfriend would never “fuck” you. Whenever the two of you had sex, he always liked to describe it as making love. He was someone who believed that sex was something that should be cherished. 

“Don’t test me baby, tonight you are going to be my cocksleeve” Before you could even react, he thrust his cock inside of you, not even giving you a warning. “How can you be such a whore and have such a tight pussy” 

You just moaned you had never seen him this way, and you were a bit scared, and your face reflected it. “Aww, baby don’t be scared, you’ll get to cum, don’t worry”

He nibbled on your ear softly, his pillow lips wrapping around your lobe as he continued to thrust into you. He slowly began to lift your legs slightly, signaling you to wrap your legs around his back, allowing him to hit that one spot inside your cunt.

“Such a good girl, moaning for my cock. Is it just that good?” 

He continued to thrust into you, not faltering his pace as he continued to abuse that one spot inside of you. All you could do was moan out in response. You were too fucked out, getting fucked too well to even understand the words coming out of his mouth. 

He slapped your face slightly, causing you to look up straight into his eyes. “I asked you a question, is my cock that good” 

“Yes Jinnie, your cock is the best I’ve ever had” you moaned out loud. He kissed your lips, muttering “good girl” on them, and with him thrusting into that one spot that made you whine, it was all you needed to cum. 

“Fuck baby, I can feel your walls clenching around me, but just because you came, doesn’t mean we are done” You whined, feeling overstimulated as he continued to abuse your pussy like there is no tomorrow. 

It all felt too much, him continuing to thrust into you even though you had just cum. You thrashed around slightly, not being able to take it. Just as you thought you were going to break, like the world around you was going to go black, he came inside of you, kissing your lips. 

You were still out of it as he quickly got up, getting a cloth to clean the cum that was spilling you out of with as well as a glass of water. “Baby, I need you to drink this” 

You just nodded, slowly drinking the glass of water that your boyfriend was holding in front of you. 

“Sorry if I was too rough, I just overheard you say that you wanted me to fuck you more often, I hope it was okay” 

He looked like a hurt puppy so you pulled him close to you, kissing his lips gently. “It was amazing Jinnie, but next time, give me some warning because I was scared shitless” 

He just giggled as he wrapped his arms around you as you both fell asleep together. Maybe not knowing the end of the book is worth it. 

[wittlesissyb4by]

Chapter 1

Oh fuck! Oh FUCK! FUCK!

I overslept.

I was supposed to be at work over an hour ago. If I hurried, I could take a shower, throw on some clothes that still needed ironing, and make it there by 11 if there isn’t much traffic. 

Or…I could just call in sick. 

Having the day to myself would be nice. I’ve taken a day off each of the last 3 weeks and I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying the extra day of relaxation. Not that my job is too taxing, I sit at a desk all day and move numbers from one column to the other, but on days I’m home I get to be free. I get to be me. 

My roommate Max is at work until 5. That’s at least 7 solid hours of play time. My mind races with all the possible things I could do. I’m already getting hard just thinking about it. I grab my phone and tune my voice as I dial, my other hand on my crotch, rubbing in excitement. 

“HR, this is Kelly.”

“Hey K-Kelly” I say in a terrible excuse for a raspy voice, coughing unconvincingly. “I think I'm getting pretty sick…”

“Again? This is like the third week in a row.” She says.

“Yea, I dunno, some kind of weird viral thing I guess.”

Even through the phone she sounded skeptical. “Hmm…okay well go ahead and take the day off, and bring in a doctor’s note on Monday.”

“A doctor’s note?”

“Yea. You’ve already used all your PTO days for the year, so you’ll need a note from your doctor to have it count as a sick day. Otherwise we’ll have to dock your pay.”

America.

“Okay, well *ehem* I’ll get the note and bring it on Monday.” I say, knowing damn well I'm too lazy to do any of those things. Maybe they’ll forget, or shrug it off, I dunno, that’s future-Jake’s problem. 

Today, I’m gonna pamper myself. Literally. 

But first I have to shave my legs. I dunno why. For whatever reason it puts me in that mood. Having fresh, smooth legs makes me feel both feminine and infantile. 

After I’ve removed any trace of body hair, it’s time to decide what to wear. I have a large divider in my closet that serves as a false wall. It effectively hides an entire section tucked back in the corner. That’s where I keep all my supplies.

I’ve accrued quite a lot over the years. Slowly adding to my wardrobe and repertoire of toys. I rake the hangars along the rod as I search for my outfit of the day, all of them in various shades of pink.

Frilly dress? Na. Too frumpy. Onesie? Too tame. I’m in a particularly slutty mood. I want something slutty.

I decide on my go-to: the sexy Schoolgirl outfit. 

Sure, it’s cliche. But there's a reason it’s so common. Nothing makes me feel more fuckable than that skimpy skirt and the crop top. It’ll even show off my new belly button piercing!

I take some time putting it all on, pretending I’m getting ready for a hot date or something, or maybe just a gangbang.

The skirt can’t even hang properly because of how hard my cock is poking out. I stroke it a few times, fighting the urge to do it more. I have to control myself, I don’t want this to end too early.

Luckily, I’ve learned a great way to fix that.

I take a few seconds to decide on a diaper. I end up going with the pink BunnyHopps, for multiple reasons, but the main one being that they’re super cute. 

I unfurl the diaper and lay it down on my bed, turning around to position myself over it. The crinkle as I lower myself onto it always gets me going. The shaky excitement from something so simple is something I will never understand about myself. But as I’m pulling the front of the diaper up to tape it shut, I realize I’ve forgotten something. Gotta get a plug. Oh! And powder…

After a bit of grunting and frustration, I work the plug into my ass. I love how full it makes me feel, having it inside and tickling my prostate gives me the heebie jeebies. I powder myself as best I can without getting it all over my skirt, then pull the front flap of the diaper over me and tape it snugly. 

Mmmm the way it feels when I sit up, feeling the padding as the plug presses into me is such a high.  

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, but it can be better.

I take my shaggyish hair and separate it into two tiny pigtails. I’m getting better at making them even, but I wish my hair was a bit longer. Two little bows attached to each do make it look super cute, though. 

I close the door to my room…just in case. I don’t want Max to come home early and find me prancing around like a pretty sissy. I turn back around and get to what I was doing…

Creeeeakkk

I panic. Jumping around, caught in the act, attempting to cover myself as the door swings open.

Nothing.

No one’s on the other side, the door just…swung open on its own accord, and damn near gave me a heart attack. I push the door shut again but it doesn’t click, just slowly creaks back open. It takes me two more attempts to get it to stick and stay shut. I gotta fix that sometime soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week…

I spend the next hour in my computer chair watching make-up tutorials as I learn to apply my own. Trying to contour without making myself look like bozo the clown is something I’m still struggling to learn. I’m pretty happy with what I accomplished though. I bat my mascara’d eyelashes at myself and give a dainty smile to the mirror. I feel so pretty, but I could definitely use some lip gloss!

When I’m satisfied that I look like a proper, fuckable sissy slut. I prance around the room. Well, as much as I can with a plug and pamper between my bum. I love my new stockings and Mary Jane slippers! They really complete the look. 

“Oh! Have I been a naughty girl today, Professor?” I say in as best of a sissy voice as I can muster. “Are you going to make me stay after class and be…punished?”

I giggle daintily at my little made up scenario. It’s silly and, admittedly, pathetic, but it’s the best I can muster under the circumstances. Judging by how hard I am in my pampers, it seems to be working just fine.

I go back to my secret stash and rustle around until I find the dildo I’m looking for. The big, fleshy 8-incher complete with balls and a suction cup, a favorite of mine lately. 

“Oh Professor!” I say, twirling around with the cock so that my skirt swishes and my diaper crinkles. “Whatever could I do to make it up to you??”

“Well I think you should start by…sucking up to me a bit…” I mimic in a deeper voice, trying not to cringe at the awful line.

I place the dick to my glossy lips, batting my eyes up at the ceiling and putting on an innocent facade, “Like this Professor??”

“Yes you little whore. Now let’s see what you got!”

I close my eyes and take the fleshy dildo in my mouth. I hear myself let out a little moan. God it feels so good having something in there. I have several pacifiers to appease my oral fixation, but there’s nothing like a nice big cock, even if it’s a fake one…

I get down onto my knees, putting the dildo on the edge of the bed, pretending I’m servicing a real man. I suck and slurp and try to do all the things the blowjob tutorial videos told me to. I can’t help but rub the front of my diaper with my other hand. My dick is practically screaming at me to cum. I bring myself right up to the edge and–

Thonk!

Oh fuck! Was that a car door? Is Max home?? Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit! What if he sees me like this?? 

I toss the dildo to the side and bustle over to the window as fast as my plug and padding will allow. I peek through the blinds and heave a huge sigh of relief.

It’s just the neighbor. They must have forgotten something at work I guess.

Phew…close one. 

My heart is still beating out of my chest, and my stomach is still in knots from the adrenaline. All of my horniness has evaporated.

Well, kind of. One quick look in the mirror gets me worked up again, but at least I'm not so close to cumming now!

Stopping to take the time to wet my diaper, I hold my skirt up as I watch myself make the padding swell and the tint of the diaper change to a darker shade.  I press the front inward, feeling the warmth against my skin. What kind of freak do I have to be to enjoy this shit?

I put that thought out of my mind. 

Searching the room for the discarded dildo, I find it in the corner of the room before sitting down at my desk and plopping the rubber dick down on the surface in front of me.

It doesn’t take me long to find some porn to watch. I’ve recently discovered “FPOV” blowjob videos where, instead of it being from the male perspective looking down at someone sucking his dick, you get the girl’s perspective. Which means I get to watch the dick enter in and out of ‘my’ mouth. A front row seat to a big, sloppy blowjob. 

I put my headphones on so I can get the real experience. Following the girl on screen as she moves back and forth over the big, black dick. 

“You’re such a good little cocksucker!” a woman’s voice says.

Oh! This one has a voiceover. Someone degrading me and instructing me while I suck a dick? Yes please.

“Take it in your mouth! Deeper…deeper…”

I rub the front of my diaper, feeling my absolutely throbbing cock even through the pissy padding. ‘MMmphhing’ all over the dick in my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet.

“This is your purpose…this is what you were made for…”

I suck and slurp, the diaper crinkles and shifts. This is so hot!

“Men are going to use you…fuck your little whore mouth for their pleasure…”

“You are meant to worship perfect, huge, juicy cock!” 

“Suck him sissy! Suck him faster!”

I moan with the rubber dick in my mouth as I follow the voice’s instructions. The woman on screen was ‘mmming’ and ‘mmmphing’, but I was doing it louder. She spat on the dick, so did I. She stroked it with her saliva. So did I. 

“Do you feel like a little slut for him?”

I do.

“His little mouth whore?”

Yessss.

“He’s going to use your lips like a fleshlight.”

Whatever you sayy.

“You want his cum so fucking bad don’t you??”

The girl on the screen was moaning desperately, hungrily. Oh wait…that’s me.

“He’s going to cum! He’s going to cum!”

Oh god…I’m gonna cum. I need to stop–oh! Oh no…

I curse myself as I feel my body start to spasm. A new warmth fills the inside of my diaper. I can feel all my horniness leaving with it.

No! Not yet!! I whine at no one in particular. I had a whole day planned…and now it’s ruined. 

I hate how easily it tends to happen. I can’t get far into my regime at all without immediately blowing it….literally.

I feel like crying, but I don’t want my mascara to run. The plug immediately loses all of its appeal. I huff and puff as I rip the tapes of the diaper off, seeing my immense and gooey load making strings when the front flap flops open. I sit up a bit and yank the plug out a little harder than I intended, tossing it across the room.  

Plopping myself back down, the diaper feels cool and clammy now. Still, I reason, there’s no sense in wasting it, diapers are expensive, and the good thing about these BunnyHopps is they have the hook and loop tapes, which means I can put it right back on…even if it’s not nearly as fun now.

I check through the window again to make sure Max’s car isn’t out front before I head into the kitchen to make something to eat. I bring it back to my room, closing the door, and then closing it again after it doesn’t stay shut. 

Firing up my rig, I pull up League of Legends and start playing a few matches. I feel like one of those E-girls, dressing kind of skimpy and playing video games for boys’ attention. I don’t even have to get up to pee between matches, just get to release it all into my diaper. This is the life.

At around 2 o’clock, I feel the urge to use the bathroom in a different way. I sigh, knowing it’s the end of my diaper time. I head to the restroom to do my business, but stop before I get to the door. 

Actually, why don’t I just do it right here? Right now? After all, I am in a diaper. I don’t usually mess because Max is always here, but I have the house all to myself, and this diaper is on its last leg anyway. Why not? I’m allowed to treat myself, even if it's probably the weirdest way one would do so. 

I’ve always found it a bit awkward to poop in a diaper. How does one do it? Do you stand? Surely not. Do you sit? That seems messy, but I guess that’s kinda the point…I decide to squat down and handle it that way. 

It doesn’t happen immediately. I sit there awkwardly thinking about what someone would say if they saw me in this position.

“D’awwww!! Is the wittle baby making a pushy poo?? Hmm? Are joo making a big ‘ole mess for Mommy?”

The thought of that gives me a stirring in a different part of my diaper. I imagine myself surrounded by a group of beautiful women, forced to dirty my diaper in front of them while they all point and laugh.

“Stinky poo! Stinky poo! Now you’re going doo doo!!”

“Suck your thumb, loser!!”

I put my thumb in my mouth. I suck it while I grunt and push.

“A grown man dumping in a DIAPER!”

“Man? Looks like a sissy slut to me!”

I can actually see myself blushing in the mirror while the diaper sags under the weight of my warm mush that’s filling it.

“He did it! He did it!” the imaginary girls clap.

I can see my penis poking through the pampers. 

“And he LIKED it!”

“Show us how much you like it, loser!”

“Sit in your stinky seat!!”

I sit back on my butt and feel the mush spread inside. It’s sickening and feels yucky, but the girls love it.

“Bouncy bouncy baby!!”

I bounce on the floor, squishing the mess even more, sucking my thumb and making pathetic little noises as I slip into little space.

“Goo goo ga ga sissy girl!!”

I’m drooling on my thumb while the other is rubbing the front of my mushy diaper. I’m glad Max isn’t home to hear the ridiculous sounds I'm making. 

“I think he wants to MAKE a goo goo in his diapy!” The girls all laugh. Emma Watson, Kate Beckinsale, Natalie Portman, they’re all here. “On the floor! It’s time for dumpy humpies!!”

Someone also tells me to get my ‘big boi binky’. I grab the dildo off my desk and put it on the floor in front of me.

“Sucky sucky while you fucky fucky!!” 

I’m a mess in every sense of the word. Drooling all over the dick, wiggling back and forth in my defiled diaper, grinding against the ground, skirt, hair, make-up all disheveled.

The girls are clapping their hands and chanting. Goo GOO! Goo GOO! Goo GOO!

It feels so good, being a dirty little diaper bitch…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…

Beep!

Panic. Was that a car horn? No, a truck horn. Max’s truck. The sound it makes when it’s locking. He’s here.

I rush to the window, my destroyed diaper plopping side to side with every step. I peek through the blinds again, scanning the yard.

Nothing. No one in the driveway, no sign of Max.

Another sigh of relief. It’s hard to enjoy myself when I’m constantly on edge that I'll be caught. Sure, I’m in my room, but the stench alone could probably alert the neighbors. I check to see if I even came. 

Oh…yea..definitely did. But I don’t remember the orgasm. Shame. I’m overcome with shame and disgust again, and now I’m walking around in my own filth.

I carefully remove the diaper, trying to make sure the defecation doesn’t get on my skirt. In hindsight, I should have removed the skirt before opening the diaper, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Now I've got a literal mess on my hands. I use one of my palms to cradle the diaper while using my other hand to keep my skirt from sticking to the filth on my backside. I carefully place the diaper down so I can use both of my hands to unzip my skirt safely and take it ,and my crop top, off, tossing them both out of harm’s way.

Now I have other shit to deal with. I carefully roll up the diaper and tape the biohazard up into a ball. The thing is massive and plump, but still has its pinkish hue. I want to take it out to the dumpster, but being naked with a muddy butt isn’t exactly the right attire to do so.

This is why I don’t make messy diapers. I’m so bad at dealing with the cleanup.

I decide to set it all down and go take a shower. I make sure to close my door behind me, and step across the hall into the bathroom. The warm water feels good on my clammy skin. I use the sprayer to hose the filth off my bum, finally feeling clean again. I put the nozzle back in its holster above, but it falls with a loud clunk. But even after I caught it, the sound persisted.

Someone was at the front door. 

Not knocking. They just…walked in. I could tell by the clatter the screendoor makes when it shuts too hard, another thing I was supposed to fix…

Is that Max? Or is someone breaking in? Max shouldn’t be off of work yet, it’s only 3, and he always works until at least 5. 

I listen to the footfalls, turning the water off so I can get a better listen. The steps are hard, like those of work boots. Max’s boots. They stomp down the hallway past the bathroom I’m in, past my door, and then to his.

I shut my door, right?

Yes. I did. I made sure of it.

But what if he smells my disgusting diaper?

In a bit of a panic, I hop out of the shower, grab a towel, and make my way out into the hall.

“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the panic from my voice.

Max turns, a weird look on his face, “Hey.” he replies.

“You’re home early.” I say, sounding like an unfaithful housewife.

He scratches his beard and sighs, “Yea, the guys got what they needed done and we should be good to pass inspection tomorrow so I sent ‘em home.”

“Oh, okay, cool.” It was awkward. We’ve lived together for almost two years now and it’s never been this awkward. Probably because I’m making it awkward.

“Well, I’m gonna go take a nap.” He rubbed his eyes, maybe a little too much. 

“Alright then, see ya later.”

“Later.”

He went into his room and closed the door behind him. I hurried to mine, reaching for the handle. 

But it wasn’t there. The door was open. Wide open. And all my stuff was splayed across it in full, easy view. The skimpy skirt, the crop top with the word ‘SISSY’ plastered across it, a realistic dildo with my drool still dripping down it and, right in the center of the floor, my big giant disgusting diaper.

…Is there any chance he didn’t see all of that?

To Be Continued

[duckiemimi]

everything that’s happened since gojo’s unsealing has been such a missed opportunity for his character.

now, don’t get me wrong—yuuji is the main protagonist of the story, despite being benched for the better half of the arc, but gojo is a protagonist, too. and though the development from gojo’s beginning (the hidden inventory arc) to his sealing (the shibuya arc) isn’t as consistent as some of the other characters, it’s still growth with room for resolution. resolution which we did not get in 236. (if he’s actually dead.)

i think one of the biggest setbacks to gojo’s potential character growth is the timeskip that happened right before his fight with sukuna. the story wouldn’t have slowed down if we were given time to reacquaint ourselves with gojo after hundreds of chapters of absence, and it would’ve been a great opportunity to re-establish the dynamic he had with his students and friends, as well as introduce him to new characters and the characters we haven’t seen him interact with.

besides exploring character relationships, unfolding that timeskip into actual training scenes would’ve given the reader a sense of time passing, which would’ve played into the anticipation of waiting for the promised date. because that’s what the characters were doing, too—waiting for the promised date. the scenes wouldn’t have to be long and dragged out, but regardless if they were, they could’ve served a purpose in the story. in reality, all we know is that the timeskip happened and now everyone’s patting his back. conveniently implied off-screen growth.

then we have our epic battle, spanning fifteen-chapters full of “is he dead or is he not?” cliffhangers. as highly anticipated as this fight was, it mostly consisted of play-by-play sequences with minimal scenes of characterization. (by characterization, i mean things like internal-monologues and interactions that are more than just fighting. “phew, that was close” thoughts don’t count.) if we were to use the canon fifteen chapters as a base, a skeleton we could build on, adding more characterization could’ve made the fight less repetitive and so much more engaging, so much more meat to the story. alas, all we have fighting.

and then we have chapter 236. in my personal opinion, gojo didn’t have to die for the story to still end up centering the new generation he fostered, but let’s say he really did die in 236. if he really did die, then this chapter completely reversed and regressed gojo’s character to the point where it wholly undermined the development we’ve seen throughout the story. i would call it a simple “out of character” moment, but if he’s dead, then we’re back at square one and now we’ll stay there, unmoving. because he’s dead.

on top of that, his change was done abruptly, too, with no indication or foreshadowing that we were heading in the direction where 236 ended. i wouldn’t say that gojo enjoying his fight with someone who actually gave him a challenge was an indication that he would end up the way he did. you have to believe your readers are smart, but you can’t leave things so vague for them to figure everything out by themselves. readability is great. this issue shouldn’t have to be an open-ended question.

and anyway, the sudden change had no purpose. what am i supposed to take away from him reverting back to his high school self? that despite all the work he put in, he’s still alone? even in death, he feels alone? next to all his dead friends, he laughs but still, he feels alone and misunderstood? how pessimistic. and even if that was what the narrative was going for, then those fifteen chapters were a missed opportunity for an effective transition from point “a” (gojo pre-battle) to point “b” (gojo post-battle/in the afterlife) characterization-wise. (and plot-wise. off-screen major events are lazy.) i’m not convinced and neither are many readers. this isn’t just because gojo’s a well-loved character.

i think most people knew one way or another that gojo would die, given the nature of the story. even if that fifteen chapter back-and-forth gave hope for survival, the end is the inevitable, and that’s understandable. but to end his character as someone unrecognizable from who we were first introduced to, and to have it done so drastically, too? it makes me :/ . sacrificing gojo for the sake of the plot, i could understand, but twisting him post-mortem was unnecessary.

taking away the care he had for the future generation, who are battlefield-bound right now, completely undermines the fact that the story is supposed to center around them. that was his motivation and what spurred him to give yuuta and yuuji second chances in life. his care, his motivation, was what started the story in the first place. if gojo’s character arc was intended to be flat and his actual character, static, then he wouldn’t have had ongoing motivations that lined up with the major plot.

bear in mind, i’m not making this as a call to action or anything (god, no). but these are just my thoughts as a long-time reader. the story is still gege’s and while i’m dissatisfied with how he killed off one of my favorite characters in the series, whatever happens next is in the control of the g-pen between his fingers.

[rreeaahh]

We are both filthy now | R. A. B.

Third chapter of "One way ticket" | Ch. 1 / Ch. 2

READ THE AUTHOR NOTE, THANK YOU.

taglist> @my-beloved-fandoms

pair> regulus black x lestrange! reader (slytherin)

summary> a birthday party means, for most people, a way to celebrate your existence - for purebloods, however, is a good way to spent time together with their master. regulus and y/n are not fond of the event, but no matter the traumatic experience they both go trough, they are still enemies - and y/n should've know that.

word count> 4.5k (wtf)

warnings> some type of angst; slow burn af; family toxicity; female discrimination; description of getting the dark mark; regulus hitting reader's hand; not proofread!

a/n> hi m'loves<3 do not forget that the tag list is open, feel free to ask to be added! im sorry for the long wait, it was one tricky chapter to write and from now on im gonna stop hunting the perfection, ill just enjoy writing. im more than happy to see all the notification from you on this series, and im beyond grateful - ill love to read your reaction, it makes me incredibly happy and helps me write. any comment is more than welcomed<3 any reblog helps this series to get to more people and it only takes a minute to do so. thank u for reading, ily all<3

Dear Y/N,

I hope my letter finds you well – your cousin’s pathetic owl is one lazy bird, let me tell you, but Rodolphus seems to be quite fond of it, and won’t let me get a new one.

Anyway, I write to you in hope that you’ll make me the pleasure to attend my birthday next weekend – I already spoke with Rodolphus and your father and they assured me you’ll come, but I still think it’s better to write to you personally.

We’ll also have a little meeting, besides the party itself, so I’m sure you’ll find it rather educative than a silly simple ball – do not worry, I know you tend to get anxious when surrounded by people you don’t know that well, but my cousin Regulus is coming too! I’m sure you two young purebloods will have all the fun you need.

Don’t worry writing me back, just come along with Regulus back from Hogwarts. Your presence if the only gift I need.

                                                                                                      Lots of hugs,

                                                                                                                                    Bellatrix L.

Y/N puts the letter on her desk and grabs the other envelope – this one also has her family’s wax seal, the L and the raven on top of it sending her chills on her spine.

            Y/N,

Don’t even think of not attending Bellatrix’ party. You cannot let this family down. Your cousin, Rabastan, will wait for you on the Platform 9 ¾, since me and Rodolphus have a lot of work to do for the meeting. Saturday morning, no later than 10 A.M. The meeting will be at our house.

                                                                                        Don’t disappoint me.

                                                                                                                        Cyrus Lestrange

She scoffs and lets the paper fall from her fingers. She was only a child when her cousin, Rodolphus, married Bellatrix, Regulus’ cousin. They were the youngest at that party so all the adults expected them to spent time together. Truth is, however, that Regulus was shy and quiet and only stayed by her side, listening to all of her questions and never responding back. After the wedding, when her father seemed to be so pleased with little Regulus, with his manners and his obedient nature, Y/N decided that she hated Regulus Black. He was just a little prick, and she decided that she’ll be better than him – always.

As her roommates are deep asleep, Y/N stays at her desk and watches the two letters. She grabs again the one from her father and watches how the flame of the candle on her desk dances on it, the paper getting warmer and warmer, until it’s lit on fire. She hates to keep her father’s letters – it’s like she’d want to ever see them again.

With the burning paper still between her fingers, she gets out of her dorm and walk on the dark corridor of the Slytherin Girls’ Wing and goes to the Common Room, where the fire seems to be burning with green flames. The Black Lake is silent behind the large windows, only the water’s movement being heard. She throws the letter in the chimney and smiles at the sight of the fire eating up her father’s words. It’s like she’s watching him get eaten up by the flames.

“It’s late, Lestrange.”

Y/N jumps on her feet and gets a grip of her night robes. The light green material covers her body now that she’s tugging her fingers into it. From the dark green sofa, Regulus Black watches her with a bored expression. He was reading a book and in front of him, on the small black table, is a cup filled with tea, she could guess.

“Always staying in the shadows, like a rat,” Y/N mutters and walks to him, staying on the couch in front of him. While she sits down, she lets the robe fall from her shoulder, exposing the skin. She’s dressed in a dark purple pajama set, made out of silk, and the little string of her tank top falls with the robe. Regulus seems to notice the bare skin just exposed and he gets his eyes to look at her face fast, before she could sense his gaze. He feels… disgusted.

“Always speaking like you own the whole place,” he talks back and smirks, “when we both know it’s nothing like that.” His voice is flat – no matter his facial expressions, Regulus Black always had a boring voice when he’d talk to her.

Y/N just watches him for a second. He’s still in his Quidditch equipment, even if the Slytherin team came back from practice a few hours ago. His hair is messy, his eyes are circled by a dark color, in comparison with his light skin, and he looks tired.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” she lets the question escape her lips without even thinking.

“I could ask you the same thing, if I really cared,” he says and grabs his cup, drinking slowly from it.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Black,” Y/N laughs and puts her hands over her chest. Regulus notices that, too. “I’m sure you got an owl from Bellatrix.”

“Yes, Bella wrote me about her birthday. Unfortunately, if you’re telling me about it, it means she wrote to you, too,” he says in a quiet voice, letting out the air in his lungs.

“She’s part of my family, too, Black,” Y/N says and surprises herself – she never gave that much importance to the family relations. She only had herself, at the end of the day, no matter how much her father would scold her for being an absent member of the House of Lestrange.

Her father never really showed her love – he was meant to be her father, but he was just a kind of legal tutor who raised her and was responsible for her well-being, and her cousins looked down on her – she was just a silly girl, meant only to bear children and get more powerful connections for her family. Her uncle and her aunt were distant, and maybe that was better than giving her reasons to hate them, like the rest did.

“Please, do not remind me – I still can’t get over that.” Regulus seems annoyed, bored, tired of her presence. And, yet, he stands there, face to face with her, watching each other – studying each other with such attention like they’re looking for a weak point.

“Why are you such a hypocrite, Regulus?” Y/N suddenly asks. He just smiles in the corner of his mouth, grabs his cup of tea and gets up from the sofa.

She feels him getting closer to her and in a second his breathing is hitting her face. “Don’t act like I’m the only one putting an act on, Miss Little Perfect,” he says amused.

Her brows drop. The skin on her forehead wrinkles and her eyes watch his, wanting to see behind them – they are empty. “I know you look up to me, Regulus, but there’s no need to remind me,” now she’s the one to smirk, and he’s the one to frown.

“Please,” he scoffs, “I wouldn’t look up to a pathetic orphan even if you’d be hanging out from the ceiling,” he mutters and gets back up on his feet, looking down to her. Regulus is not the tallest boy Y/N knows, but that position gives him a more decent posture.

“That orphan is better than you,” she whispers. “That’s why your momma always prays the ground I walk on, right?” she laughs and she can sense his body getting alarmed by her words. “My dad just wanted an heir, someone to get his name far – but Walburga wants more than that, right? Now that Sirius, your disappointment of a brother, left, she only has you, but she doesn’t seem to be fulfilled,” the air leaves her lungs when Regulus drops the cup of tea and gets on top of her. The liquid spills on the stone floor.

His hands grab her bare shoulders, his leg is between her hips and he presses her body into the couch. Her back is arched into the plush material of the sofa and her eyes widen at the proximity. His jaw is tightened and his breathing is deep while Regulus watches her face with a spark into his eyes. “Do not, ever again in your filthy, pathetic, good for nothing life, talk about my family,” he mumbles and his grip only gets tighter – his nails digs into the skin of her shoulders like he wants to rip it off.

Y/N shoves him away and quickly gets up from the couch. Regulus is on the floor, right into the tea puddle he made, and he seems to be caught with his guard off. “Do not, ever again in your pathetic, sad, good for nothing life, call me an orphan – I have a family, Black. The blood in my veins is just as pure as yours, and my name is just as important as yours.”

And she leaves him there, into the Common Room, to take a bath into his own mess. She needs to go back to sleep – tomorrow she has to go back home and get ready for a birthday party.

The whole night she tried to forget Regulus’ hands onto her skin – her shoulders felt like burning, like they got marked by his touch. She tried not to think about the anger in her soul the whole ride back to London, when she was forced to be in the same wagon with Regulus – apparently, they both wanted to travel into the Prefects’ cabin. At least, they both kept their mouths shut and didn’t even looked at each other.

She didn’t have to have a very warm welcoming back home – Rabastan waited for her at the station and kept his eyes on the road the whole time. He only asked about other Slytherin kids in her year and some older ones – he wanted to know if she was behaving well enough towards them. Once she got to enter the big mansion she called ‘home’, there was chaos – all the house elves were running left and right with platters, candles, flowers in their hands and all of them stopped to look at her and welcome her mechanically. She just got up to her room and closed the door behind her. When she dropped on her bed, there was silence – there was no longer Regulus Black, or Cyrus Lestrange or any other dumb man who made her angry.

Once she woke up, she started to get ready for the gathering she was forced to attempt. She got dressed in a dark grey dress, elegant enough not to make her father a fool and yet, simple enough not to make Bellatrix feel left out – it was her birthday, after all.

“There you are,” says her father as she gets out of her bedroom. “I thought you’re still asleep.”

“I was getting ready.”

Cyrus looks her up and down in a judgmental way – he points to her neck. “Make sure the chain is visible, nothing else.”

Y/N forces a smile and a hand travels to the gold flower at her neck. “Yes, father.” He gives her his elbow and the two of them go down, where the elves decorated the whole floor with black and purple roses and white candles. There’s a long table near a wall, right at the fireplace, where are plates with food and glasses of expensive champagne.

“Here,” Cyrus whispers and gives Y/N a red box, and before she could question his action Bellatrix is right in front of her, laughing happily.

“Y/N! I’m so glad to see you, how are you?”

Bellatrix Lestrange, nee Black, is a very… bipolar witch. Once, she’s loud, smiley, in a good mood, and then she acts like the Devil himself. Y/N could never figure out why her cousin, Rodolphus, wanted to marry her – there were plenty of purebloods who wished to be married to him, but all his attention was on Bellatrix ever since they were in school together, despite the fact that she didn’t show any kind of interest in him during those years. Now, Rodolphus would do anything Bellatrix asks without blinking twice.

“Happy birthday, Bellatrix,” Y/N smiles and hugs her in a soft manner. While giving her the small box, she can see her cousin behind his wife, watching them carefully.

“I told you there was no need for gifts,” Bellatrix says and gives Rodolphus the box to take care of it. “I assume you just got down here,” she continues and grabs her hand, getting her away from her father – he doesn’t seem concerned about that. Cyrus always said that Bellatrix was a good wife and that Y/N had a lot to learn from her. What he did not know is that Y/N really wanted to learn a lot from Bellatrix – she wanted to know more about the power a witch could hold.

“Yes,” she said and looked around her own house. It was full of wizards, all of them being purebloods and talking to each other with a clear superiority in their voice. “I hope I’m not late to the party.”

Bellatrix scoffs. “The true party begins only when he gets here,” she smirks and Y/N freezes, knowing who she’s talking about. Tom Riddle was certainly not her favorite person, no matter how much he convinced her father that she will be a good daughter for him.

“Wonderful,” she manages to say and walks beside Bellatrix to greet her guests. She smiles and greets Bellatrix’ parents and gets a deep breath when her aunt and uncle come to wish her a happy birthday.

“Y/N, how are you, dear?” Walburga asks and kisses her both cheeks. Bellatrix seems busy talking to her uncle about the upcoming meeting, while Regulus sits behind them and only listen. “How is school?”

“It’s good, wonderful, even,” she smiles and Walburga laughs happily. “I’m working on some essays for Potions and Transfiguration, maybe they’ll be published after I finish school.”

“Did you hear, Regulus? Y/N plans to publish some essays after graduation,” she scolds her son and now his attention is on them. He only smiles to his mother and she goes on with the talking. Neither of them seems to be truly focused on what she’s saying – they look at each other like they’d snap each other’s neck if they could.

“Regulus, why don’t you invite Y/N to dance?” Bellatrix pops between them and her aunt claps her hands satisfied with her proposal. “You know how much joy it brings me to see you two together, Reggie,” she continues and puts her arm around his shoulders. He looks at his cousin with doubt in his gaze – she made them dance together at her wedding, too, like they were some monkeys to entertain the adults.

With a silent scoff, he forced a smile in his cousin’s direction and looked shortly to his mother, who only seemed to tell him the same thing with her eyes. “Shall we dance together, Y/N?” he asks and gives her his pale hand.

No matter how much she’d like to hit it, getting it away from her, she grabs it lightly and smiles. “With pleasure,” she mutters and the adults all clap their hands and smile in their direction as they go to the center of the room, where other people are dancing slowly.

Bellatrix flicks her wand and the room is now filled with a more vibrant music – they smile to each other and Y/N’s skin is burning under her dress where Regulus’ hands touch her. He cups her hand into his and the other one rests on her back, bringing her closer to his body. She has a hand on his shoulder and they both move synchronically to the rhythm.

“You disgust me,” he whispers into her ear, sending shivers all over her spine.

A big smile appears on her rosy lips and she looks behind him, where her father is beside Orion and Cygnus Black – they all had firewhiskey glasses in hand and talked with serious expressions on their faces.

“The feeling is mutual, my dear Regulus,” she mumbles and steps on his foot, careful to put the heel right into his toe.

“Then, you could’ve save us both and deny Bellatrix’ stupid wish.”

“On her birthday?” she scoffs. “Yeah, right, you tell her no, I like to be alive.”

Regulus lets a small chuckle out and before she could look at him, he spins her away for a second. When her body is back into his arms, her vision is blurry. “You better keep your mouth shut during the meeting,” he says in a cold tone.

“Why, Reggie?” she mocks the tone Bellatrix used. “Scared the Dark Lord will see more potential in me than in you?” She’s joking. On Merlin’s beard, she’s only trying to piss him off.

“Tonight is my night and you better not do anything to steal it from me,” he spits the words into her ear. Her skin becomes ice cold and all her blood runs faster into her veins because of the way he presses his fingers into her back. “I warn you, Y/N, stay in your place,” he mumbles and when the music changes, he lets go of her and smiles, before going away.

After some hours, the chaos in her house begins to cool down – the guests start leaving until there are only the usual people. They all sit at the long table, talking about some things that happened in the Muggleworld and how unacceptable they were – for someone who said they despised the muggles, they sure talked a lot about them. The conversation dies when the chair at the end of the table is occupied by the tall, dark haired wizard. They all rise from their sits and greet him with joy.

“It’s good to see you too, my dear friends,” Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort says and he shakes her father’s hand. Her lungs take the air in with great difficult, given the fact that there’s only a sit between the dark wizard and her. “I assume I need to apologize to Bellatrix,” he speaks and looks to his left, where the witch smiles from one ear to another. “I did not bring any gift with me, Bella,” he explains.

“You are my greatest gift, My Lord,” she says and from her left, Rodolphus and Rabastan just nod their heads. “Your presence gives us hope for a better future for us, the right titled wizards,” she continues and everyone agrees.

Bellatrix is one of the most loyal followers the Dark Lord has besides Cyrus Lestrange and the rest of his friends from when they were in Hogwarts. He saw the potential in her, just like he saw it in Y/N.

“Then tell me, which is the reason of this meeting?” Voldemort asks and looks at every face at the table.

It was not Y/N’s greatest pleasure to sit at that table from time to time – her father thought it was good for her future to assist those meetings, but they were incredibly boring. There were many parents of her housemates and from other kids from school, but not even a single person her age – that until Bellatrix brought Regulus to join her. Apparently, he was quite a fan of that man because of his cousin’s stories.

“We think it’s the time to welcome another wizard between us, as an official member, my Lord,” Lucius Malfoy speaks and his voice is just as annoying as ever.

“Oh, really?” Voldemort smiles. “And who might that be, Lucius?”

“My cousin, my Lord,” Bellatrix says and points to Regulus. “Regulus is one of the most dedicated wizards to your plans,” she continues and the air leaves Y/N’s lungs.

Looking over the table to Regulus, she could see Walburga smiling proudly while he just looks to Tom Riddle. “My Lord,” he says, “I swear I’ll serve you with every power I have.”

“Then come closer, young Regulus,” the dark wizard says and plays with his wand between his fingers. The boy gets up on his feet. From his right, Cyrus Lestrange clears his throat. “Yes, Cyrus?”

“My Lord,” he begins, “I was not aware that the Death Eaters were open to new members.”

“We always have free spots for the one who wish to serve our believes,” comes his explanation.

“In that case, I’m sure you’ll agree with me that Y/N is just as worthy of getting the mark as young Regulus is.”

Her heart stops beating. What did he just say?

“Right, Y/N?” his father touches her back, forcing her to look at him. His eyes are desperate. There is no way, in his opinion, that his only child will not be recognized as a worthy follower of Lord Voldemort.

All eyes are on her. She can feel them. However, she does not care about them – the only ones that matter are her father’s, and the one from across the table who looked down at her.

“Yes, My Lord,” she says that quietly that she barely hears her own voice. Her father pats her back and goes back to Voldemort. Y/N can’t gather the courage to look at Regulus.

“You said she was worthy from the first day you saw her, My Lord,” Cyrus says. “You said she will be a powerful witch, with a great future – how is she supposed to be powerful if not under your command?”

Voldemort smiles pleased. “You’re right, my old friend. Come, child, let me get a better look of you.” Her father looks at her and orders her to do as asked just with his eyes. Do not disappoint me, hesays with his burning gaze.

Mechanically, Y/N is on her feet and walks behind her father, in front of the sick looking wizard. His hands are cold, like he’s dead, when he touches her jaw. He looks at her like she’s some kind of animal that needs to be inspected.

“Are you willing to follow my orders, whenever you are needed, child?”

There’s a knot in her stomach. She wants to say no. She wants to leave that house and never come back. She’s scared.

“Yes,” is the only answer she can give in return.

“Very well,” Tom Riddle smirks satisfied and gestures to Regulus to come closer too. They are now next to each other. She can hear his breathing from her left and her knees are about to go numb. “Who wants to go first?”

Before she can say anything, Regulus already has his shirt lifted from his left arm and brings it closer to the man. Y/N can hear the soft scoff of his father.

“You need to swear to always serve me, boy,” Voldemort demands, the tip of his wand pressed into Regulus’ arm.

“I swear, My Lord. Whenever you’ll call for me, I’ll be there, ready to do everything I’m capable of for you,” Regulus speaks.

With a big grin on his face, Voldemort begins to press the wand deeper into the skin, until Regulus grabs his arm with his free hand. From under his skin is visible a dark smoke that lingers there, running like it’s chasing his blood. His nose is twitching from the possible pain, but besides that, his expression is blank. When the wand is lifted, the Dark Mark is on his white skin. There is silence, like the rest would wait for him to scream. His parents have a proud expression on their faces as Regulus watches the crowd with a blank, serious stare.

“Your turn, Y/N” Voldemort says after a few seconds and puts his hand out there to grab her arm. She lifts the sleeve of her dress and looks at her father – Cyrus Lestrange watches her with a demanding manner, like he’s forcing her to go closer to Voldemort. Which she does.

“I always knew you’d be a great witch, child,” he says with a proud tone in his voice. He wanted her to be his weapon. “Say you’ll serve me without question, Y/N. Let the others know that from today, you’ll become one of the most powerful followers of mine.”

“I do, My Lord,” is the only thing she says like she’s hypnotized – her body doesn’t listen to her commands, it acts on its own.

The wand is cold against her skin, but as soon as Voldemort presses it harder into her arm, a burning sensation hits her entire being – she needs to grab her arm in order not to get it away from the unspoken spell. The black smoke feels like venom and she wants to scream from the bottom of her soul. Instead, she just bites the flesh inside her mouth, the taste of blood blooming from her cheek. When the wand is lifted and the mark is done on her arm, too, there’s silence again – and when there’s no screaming, all the Death Eaters gets up and start to applause them, to congratulate them.

“That’s the best birthday ever!” Bellatrix laughs maniacal and jumps from a foot to another.

She still has her left arm in her right hand, looking at the black drawing on her skin. She’s too afraid to touch it, like it could burn her fingers. Two arms wrap around her in the noise and she’s hugged by her father. Cyrus Lestrange hugs his daughter, and a single tear rolls down on her cheek.

“Good job, Y/N,” he says in her ear. “Now you’ll show everyone what you’re made of.”

She gets slightly away from him and she can feel the vomit sensation grow in her stomach. While everyone clink glasses of champagne and laughs with joy, she excuses herself and leave the dining hall.

She could not see Regulus in the crowd. She needs to see him to be sure it was all real. And she finds him on the corridor near the bathroom, at a balcony with a view to her garden. His shoulders are moving up and down and his breathing is accelerated. If she didn’t know any better, she wouldn’t guess he was… crying. She stepped closer to him slowly and put her hand on his back.

“Regulus…” she said softly and tears started to form into her eyes, too. What have they done?

“You couldn’t contain yourself, right?” he screams and turns around to face her. “You got to be the center of the attention tonight, too,” his voice is full of hate, which she ignores when she sees his wet blood-shot eyes. Her hand tries to touch his shoulder, wishing to show him… empathy?

“Regulus…” she mumbles again and her voice is hurt. Maybe they are in this together; she just needs to explain everything.

“Don’t put your filthy hands on me!” he says and slaps her hand away.

Y/N doesn’t know what hurt more – the slap, the burning feeling in her arm or the fact that she thought that maybe, just maybe, Regulus was willing to show her kindness then, when it was clear that neither of them was feeling good with their actions.

She looks at his hand – the one he slapped hers with – and at his arm. His left arm.

“We are both filthy now,” she says with despair and turns around, leaving him alone.

[chaoticpuff17]

Amygdala

Masterlist

Chapter 14

Margot awoke to her a gentle shaking on her shoulder. 

“Come on, jagiya.” Yoongi spoke softly, shaking her awake. “You need to wake up, baby.” She groaned, burrowing further into the blanket while Yoongi looked down at her fondly. “I know you’re not feeling good, baby, but you need to get up.” 

She didn’t move.

“Come on, baby.” He cooed, slipping his arms underneath her and picking her up bridal style as she groaned and buried her face into his shoulder. “You need to eat something, and then I promise you can go back to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.” 

“You have to, baby. You didn’t eat much today.” 

“Whose fault is that?” she huffed, clinging to him as he walked them into the kitchen where a bowl of juk was waiting for her. 

“Food, pain medicine, and then bed.” He ordered, setting her down at the island. 

“Fuck off.” Margot grumbled, picking up the spoon and stirring around the contents of the bowl. “I hate your dishes.” 

He scoffed out the smallest of laughs, taking a seat next to her. “What’s wrong with my dishes?”

“They’re sanatorium white.” 

Yoongi chuckled, gazing at her fondly. “We can get new dishes. You can change anything in the apartment that you’d like. Redecorate to your heart’s content. It’s your house too, jagiya.” 

She looked over at him disgruntled. “This is not my house.” 

“Of course it is.” he shrugged. “Eat.” 

Reluctantly, Margot took a bite of the juk. It had never been her favorite dish. Something about the texture of the rice just wasn’t her favorite, too much like oatmeal too mushy, but it was a staple food for those who didn’t feel well. It also had the added benefit of being easy on an upset stomach. It reminded her of the BRAT diet her mom had used to put her on whenever she’d had stomach issues as a child. 

Thinking of it made her inexplicably homesick. It was a feeling she didn’t get very often, but when she did, it hit like a truck. She missed her family, her friends. She missed the streets she’d grown up on. She missed not having to worry about a man who had a delusional obsession with her. 

“How’s your head?” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Seongnam said you had a migraine today.” 

“Seongnam should mind his own business.” she shot back, shooting him a glare from the corner of her eye. 

“Looking after you is his business.” 

She barked out a laugh, the sound more like a scoff than anything else. “I’m not a fucking child, Yoongi. I don’t need a babysitter to look after me.” 

Yoongi stared her down, his expression less than amused. 

“You do if you don’t take care of yourself.” 

“I got on just fine before you decided to barge in the take over.” she reminded him, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do you understand how incredibly creepy it is that you have people who watch my every move twenty-four-seven?” She questioned, head tilted slightly to the side. 

“It’s for your own safety, jagiya.” he grumbled, jaw clenched tightly, his fingers tapping a harsh rhythm against the top of the island. 

“Is it for my safety or your comfort?” 

Margot let a spoonful of juk fall back into the bowl, completely uninterested in the meal set before her, her stomach too twisted in knots to really consider eating anything. The throbbing in her skull didn’t help with her appetite either. 

As a teacher, Margot was used to being tired. It was a tiring profession, but there was a bone deep exhaustion hanging about her today that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was the kind of tired that made her want to spend all day curled up in bed until the rest of the world faded away and all the thoughts cluttering her head faded with it. 

The only cure for it was a lazy day, to rot in bed until she was ready to emerge from her cocoon when her bones felt a little less heavy and the world seemed a little easier to face as it came back into focus. While she’d spent the majority of the day sleeping, she wasn’t quite ready to face the reality of the situation. But Yoongi was insistent on making sure her basic physical needs were met even if the meeting of them pulled a little more on the frayed edges of her soul.

With a heavy sigh, Margot stood, pushing herself up using the island as support. “I’m going to bed.” 

Yoongi’s hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist, the pressure firm but not so harsh that it hurt. It was a silent command to stay where she was, to sit back down before he was forced to make her. 

“You need to eat, baby.” She didn’t say anything, staring at him blankly as he searched her face for any sign that she was going to back down of her own free will. “Just a few more bites, baby.” Still she didn’t move. “Please.” 

The last word came out strained, ragged as though his nerves were as ragged as hers. He needed this. He needed to know that she was safe and well cared for, and for the moment the only thing he could do to make that happen was to make sure she ate something.

He’d gotten updates from her security team as the day had gone on. Yeong had been concerned by how little she’d eaten that morning before she’d gone to lie down again. Baek-ah had reported that she’d barely even stirred during his shift let alone eaten anything. She’d been a little more active during Seongnam’s shift, but she’d only had a few bites of an early dinner and some tea before she’d gone back to sleep again. Overall, the sum of what she’d consumed that day was small enough to cause Yoongi concern. Even if she didn’t want to stay and eat, she needed to, and Yoongi was going to make sure she was safe and healthy even if she wasn’t happy about it.  

“Please,” He tried again, forcing his expression to soften even as annoyance ticked at his jaw. “Just a few more bites, Mari. You didn’t eat today.” 

Margot stared at him trying to puzzle out the look in his eye.

 There was the clear layer of exhaustion, the mirror of her own, but there was also a gleam of something else, something frantic and feral clawing at the edges of his being. It was the same emotion that she’d seen the night before as Yoongi had dragged her from her home. It was as wounded as it was feral, as frayed and worn down as she felt. 

She stared for a few moments more, taking in the information she’d just gleaned, trying to figure out the best course of action even as her own body screamed for her to return to the comfort of sleep. She knew what would be best for her, and yet there was a part of her, so entwined with the entirety of her being, that told her to put the needs of others before her own, and somehow, despite everything, that still included Yoongi. 

Slowly, Margot sat back down, keeping a careful eye on Yoongi as she did, watching as the tense set of his shoulders eased as she settled back down in front of the bowl of juk.

“Just a few more bites.” he assured her, seeing the way she eyed the bowl as though it was going to bite her.

“Don’t.” she sighed, her voice having its hard edge. “Don’t talk to me like a child. This situation is demeaning enough as it is.” 

She didn’t want to be cajoled into eating the meal before her. She didn’t want to even think of taking another bite, the very thought of it making her stomach roll unpleasantly. 

“Baby?” Yoongi’s brow furrowed as he watched the color drain from her face. “Baby, are you okay?” 

“I can’t…” she paused, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t think I can eat it.” 

Yoongi’s frown deepened, the knowledge that sometimes when she had a migraine it made her too nauseous to keep anything down coming to the front of his thoughts. 

“Baby?” he reached forward, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Shit.” he cursed under his breath feeling how clammy her skin had gotten, and silently berating himself for not noticing sooner how poorly she actually felt. “I’m sorry, baby. You don’t have to eat it. You can eat something in the morning when you feel better.” he murmured, smoothing some fly-away strands away from her face. “Do you want to go lie down again?” 

Margot nodded, swallowing back the feeling of nausea creeping up her throat. 

“Okay.” Yoongi nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you to bed.” 

Margot grumbled a little as Yoongi once more scooped her up. “I can walk on my own, you know? I’m nauseous, not broken.”

“Let me baby you.” He shushed her, heading towards the bedroom. 

“I’m not a baby, Yoongi. I just don’t feel well. You’re being overbearing.” 

He chuckled a little at that, gazing down at where she rested her head against his shoulder, leaning into his embrace even as she complained about him carrying her. 

“You deserve to be babied, jagi, especially when you don’t feel well.” 

“I can baby myself.” 

“Ah,” he hummed, giving her a soft smile. “But that’s my job, jagiya.” 

“You’re insufferable.” She sighed, a sudden wave of nausea having her tighten her around his shoulders, her whole body tensing.

“Almost there, sweetheart.” he mumbled, tightening his own hold around her. 

Ture to his word, they arrived at the bedroom in just a few moments where Yoongi gently laid her out on the bed. 

“I’m going to grab you some pain meds. Okay, jagi?” 

She didn’t respond, choosing instead to turn onto her side and curling into a ball, wanting nothing more than to be asleep again. 

Yoongi returned swiftly with the promised pain meds and a glass of water for her. 

“Okay, jagi. I need you to sit up for a moment.” She huffed, ignoring his request as she snuggled further into the pillows. “Come on, jagi.” 

Gently, Yoongi helped her to sit up, handing her the pills and the glass of water. 

“You take those. I’m going to go get you some pajamas, sweetheart.” “You know what would make me feel better?” Called after him after swallowing the pills.

“You’re not getting your own room, Mari-ah.” he answered over his shoulder, not even needing to hear the question to know what she wanted. 

Yoongi entered the closet, pleased to see that her things had all seemingly arrived, even if they had yet to be unpacked. Without much care for the mess he was making, Yoongi began to dig through the boxes in search of something she could wear to bed. They needed to unpack, but that could wait until another day. If worse came to worst, he could always have the housekeeper do it as well if his Mari insisted on being stubborn, but she couldn’t live out of boxes forever. 

Her side of the closet would fill up with her own things, everything put into their proper places, and he would add to her side of the closet as well. Margot would be one of the most spoiled women in Seoul if he had anything to say about it. Anything her heart desired would be hers. 

Yoongi managed to find a worn pair of gray sleep shorts before becoming frustrated with digging through the boxes, moving instead to his own side of the closet in search of a shirt for her.

Quickly, Yoongi pulled out a large black t-shirt. Deeming the combination of his shirt and her shorts as adequate enough sleepwear, he made his way back to Margot who was leaning back against the pillows with her eyes closed. 

“I got you some clothes, jagi.” She opened her eyes, gaze flitting to the clothes in his hand and then back to his face, disinterested. 

Yoongi sighed, setting the little pile of clothes on the bed. “I’ll step out so you can change.” 

“Surprisingly gentlemanly for a kidnapper.” 

He quirked a brow, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “I could stay if you want.” 

She froze, her spine straightening. “No. Nope. No thank you. You can go.” She shooed him away as he tried to suppress a laugh.

“Didn’t think so.” 

Yoongi gave her a few minutes to change before he entered the room again. He could have sworn that his heart stopped beating for a moment as he saw her standing there in his shirt.

“This is your shirt.” she accused, voice soft as she watched him enter the room. 

“All of your things are still in boxes, jagi.” he pointed out gently, thinking to himself that it wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t unpack if he got to see her in his clothes more often. 

“Stop that.” she snapped, though her tone didn’t have any real bite to it. 

“Stop what?” 

“Stop looking at me like that.” 

Yoongi had to suppress the smile tugging at the corner of his lips as she glared at him. “Looking at you like what, jagiya?”

“All soft and mushy. It’s annoying.” 

Leisurely, Yoongi crossed the room to where she stood glaring at him like a disgruntled cat. She didn’t move as he approached, only watching carefully as he got closer. 

“I can’t be soft with you, jagiya?” he asked, gently sliding a hand through her hair, his hand coming to a rest along her jaw with his thumb brushing a gentle line across her cheek bone. 

“Stop that.” She hissed, stepping away. “We aren’t lovers.” 

“We could be.” 

She paused, seemingly struck speechless by the bold proclamation. 

She spoke after a moment, her voice barely a whisper as she finished mulling over what he’d just said. “No. We couldn’t be.”

part 15

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 - 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 0,5k

chapter summary: seasons change, leaving joyful imprints of time's passage in their wake.

warnings: nothing, just fluff

Turntable - A rotating platform used to turn locomotives around, typically located at the end of a rail line or in a rail yard.

Warmth seeps into your skin. The air carrying the scent of freshly blooming flowers and a specific summer smell that reminds you of lazy afternoons where you would lay down on your rug and under the beam of light like a cat. You look to Javier who’s legs are dangling off the edge of the train. He has his run-down guitar on his lap, a smile on his face as he plays with the strings, something resembling a melody blending into the sound of nature. 

You smile and burrow your face into the crook of his neck. He smells nice. It feels good to finally be out in the open, appreciating the peaceful night around you. It had been a harsh winter. You were glad it was over, for now. 

“Seems like my playing is getting better if you’re already melting against me, perla,” his lips brushes against yoru temple, you shudder at the heat of his breath. 

“Or perhaps I’m trying to distract you so I don’t have to listen to it anymore.” 

“It’s hard to learn without a teacher.” 

You smile and look up to him, “I’m just kidding, Javi. You’re definitely getting better.” 

“Then give me a kiss.” 

Even after all this time, he still makes your heart skip a beat. You close the distance, pressing your lips together in a tender kiss. He smiles and takes your bottom lip between his teeth, a soft pain blossoms but disappears quickly when he sucks where the soft dents lay. 

“That’s for teasing me,” he breathes. He carefully places the guitar to the side and motions towards the turntable that sits between you two. The corner of it is cracked, the needle despite all the cleaning still muted in color. "Now, Let's see if this old thing's got some life left in it," Javier mutters, adjusting the needle with practiced fingers.

The needle drops, and the familiar crackle of the vinyl fills the air. Both yours ad Javier’s eyes grow wide, a smile on both of your lips. 

"It works," he says, his eyes lighting up. 

You can't help but grin The music floats around, echoing within the night. The stars overhead twinkle like they're in on the secret.

"Dance with me?" Javi asks, hand extended. 

“Of course.”

You take it, and the two of you start swaying. Javier's arms envelop you, pulling you close. The warmth of his chest against your cheek feels like a haven, a refuge under the vast sky. It feels like a dream but you know it’s real. His presence too strong not to be. His breath is warm against your ear. 

As you move together, Javier's fingers trace gentle patterns on your back. You sigh happily and allow him to guide you. He pulls your head to his chest, and you feel the steady thud of his heart.

“You know,” he mutters, guiding you into a swift turn and pulling you back again. “If it meant meeting you, I would endure a thousand more Outbreaks. That’s how much you mean to me.” 

You cradle his cheeks and pull him in for a quick kiss, you breathe your answer against his lips. 

“I would too.” 

[thosehallowedhalls]

The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm (1/2)

Pairing: Trystan Thorne/MC (Emma Rose)

Summary: Trystan is haunted by regrets. But when he's granted a wish to undo the worst of them, he finds that the price might be more than he's willing to pay.

@choicesjanuary2024 @lilyoffandoms Day 10, "Change"

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

When the first flurries of snow fall and Christmas lights begin to go up, Trystan always battles a certain melancholy. Growing up, the holiday season was a time of year when royal responsibilities were somehow more overwhelming. His mother always breathed down his neck a little extra hard, which made the extra number of public appearances, guests, and boring so-called ‘parties’ more unbearable.

Then, during the one holiday he spent with Juliana, things shifted. Juli loved Christmas. Her enthusiasm and joy were so contagious that Trystan found himself genuinely enjoying it for the first time. She talked about the annual Christmas ball they would hold when they were king and queen, and she swore it would be an enjoyable one - unlike his parents' usual tedious affair.

He has wrestled with bittersweet memories ever since.

But this year is different. This year, he has Emma. She makes everything better, and he finds himself looking forward to the season for the first time in years. She always makes sure to attend the Rockefeller Center tree lighting in honor of her dad. He’s looking forward to going with her this year.  He’s looking forward to a lot of things.

He can’t completely banish the regrets, though. This year, Sebastyan has joined Juli in his personal hall of ghosts. He no longer blames himself for their deaths, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever fully get over the guilt of not seeing that they needed protection.

He hasn’t told Emma this, but he imagines she knows. She has her own regrets, after all. Her own ghosts.

“Trystan, are you going to help or are you just going to fool around?” Exasperated, Emma tries to wrestle the Christmas lights out of his hands.

He pretends to think about it. Then he wraps them around her. “Option B.”

She blows the hair out of her face. “Seriously?”

He plugs in the lights and grins when she starts to sparkle. “Oh yeah. They look much better on you than they would on the tree.”

“You know, when you asked me to help you put up some Christmas decorations, I assumed that we’d be decorating the tree.”

“But you’re so much more interesting than a tree.”

“Then why, exactly, did we bother going to that horrifyingly packed tree farm yesterday?” She shudders. “Seriously, when a New Yorker tells you that a place is bound to be too busy, listen to her.”

“But the people were the best part! When those two elderly gentlemen almost came to fisticuffs over the tallest fir? The angst. The drama.”

“The extra half an hour that breaking them up added to our day.”

He waves this aside. “You’re determined to see only the negative. Besides,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Didn’t I make it up to you when we got back to my apartment?”

Her lips twitch. “We could’ve had another two hours for you to make it up to me if we’d had a tree delivered.”

Trystan gives her a pitying look. “What would your father say about having a Christmas tree delivered?”

“… He would say only philistines do such a thing. How could you possibly know that?”

“Easy. A man who takes his daughter to see the tree lighting every year is a man who takes Christmas seriously.” He wraps his arms around her waist, pulls her still glittering form close. “I intend to carry the torch.”

She gives him a suspicious look. “Am I being managed? Did you ask me to decorate with you to make sure I have fun this Christmas?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m simply lazy and unwilling to decorate an entire tree by myself.”

“Did you even have a Christmas tree these last eight years?”

“Naturally. The biggest tree of them all. A veritable tree farm in my living room.”

She kisses his jaw. “Not that I want you to make managing me a habit, but… thanks.”  With a sigh, she pulls back. “It’s getting late. I have to go.”

“Stay,” he murmurs, his lips against hers.

“I can’t.” She nuzzles his neck, her tone making it clear she wishes she could. “Tommy has a date with Sofia. I promised to tend bar tonight.”

“Responsibility isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he says forlornly.

“Welcome to adulthood.” With a last kiss, she walks out.

He drops down on the couch, intending to watch a movie, but finds himself musing on Emma’s words.

Did you even have a Christmas tree these last eight years?

He tried once, the second Christmas after Juliana’s death. But it felt like a mockery. An accusation. Christmas was always Juliana’s thing, so what right did he have to enjoy it? Why should he have a good time after failing to save her?

As usual over the last several weeks, thoughts of Juliana turn to thoughts of Sebastyan. Bas always did enjoy Christmas more than him. Did Juli’s death also ruin the holiday for him? He could ask Mags or Lydea, but he isn't sure he wants to know.

He wishes he had not drunk so much the night of Mags’ debut. That he hadn’t fallen asleep almost as soon as he and Juli fell into bed. That he had been a better brother to Bas. That he’d been able to save them both.

Perhaps, if she had lived, Bas’ life would have been different. He never saw the charm and warmth that Marguerite talks about, but they apparently existed once. Maybe he would have moved on with his life without the specter of Juliana to haunt him. Fallen in love with someone else. Been happy.

Maybe.

Regrets coursing through his veins, useless wishes clamoring in his heart, Trystan dozes off.

The scent is the first thing that stands out to him. It’s easy enough to recognize – after all, it was filling his nostrils only yesterday. Firs and spruces, hot cocoa and candy. The Christmas tree farm where he spent a chaotic yet marvelous afternoon with Emma.

What in the world is he doing here?

“Hello?”

“Oh, hello.” The man who sold them his fir yesterday smiles. “I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

“You were… what?”

“Lots of visitors this time of year,” the man, his name tag reads Jacob, says.

“Well, yes. I would assume that late November is a busy time for Christmas tree farms.”

“Indeed.” Jacob nods sagely. “And an even busier time for regrets.”

Well aware that he sounds like a broken record, Trystan blinks. “What?”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? That’s why everyone is here.”

“About that. You sure work late. Or early, depending on your perspective.”

Jacob waves this off. “2 AM is the perfect time for regrets. No other time of day invites them quite as enticingly.”

Trystan shakes his head. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me."

"You have regrets, don’t you?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Ordinarily, you deal with them well. But every once in a while, they suffocate you.” His gaze sharpens. “Tell me, Trystan, if you could have a second chance, if you could undo a regret… what would it be?”

He's given up on trying to understand what's happening. The oddity of the question doesn't register anymore. It only brings back to the surface the wish that's been playing on his mind in a painful loop. “I would save Juli and Bas.”

The alarm goes off too early, as it invariably does. He stirs when he feels lips on his cheek, fingers trailing down his chest.

“Mm. ‘S nice.”

The responding giggle is melodious, beautiful, and very familiar. It sounds an awful lot like… like…

“Good morning, my love.”

His eyes snap open. Awareness slams into him like a freight train. “Juli?”

“For your sake, you had better not have anyone else waking you like this,” she teases. “Happy Christmas Eve. Now get out of bed and let’s get to work.”

“Juli? He asks again, dumbfounded and wondering when in the world he started lucid dreaming. Because this… surely it is only a dream?

Concern softens her features. “Darling, are you all right? Do you want me to fetch the doctor?”

He struggles into a sitting position, feeling the silk against his skin and realizing that… oh. This isn’t a dream. But then…

I would save Juli and Bas.

Oh my god.

“Juliana?”

“That is my name, yes.” Her tone is light, but she only looks more concerned. “Wait here, I’ll have Elias call the doctor.”

“No, wait.” His hand shoots out, taking hold of her wrist. “How are you here? How am I here?”

“Where else would we be? The Christmas Ball can’t very well happen without us.”

The Christmas Ball?

He looks at her, truly looks at her. She’s as beautiful as always, but there’s a new maturity to her face. This Juliana has lived longer than twenty-two years. “What year is it?”

Her eyebrows disappear under her hair. “Oh no. Please tell me you aren’t hungover. We have a million things to do today.”

Trystan tries to smile. “Humor me?”

“2023, of course. Same as the last 356, and the next eight, days.”

She’s thirty now.

She’s alive.

He throws his arms around her in a hug so sudden that Juliana squeaks in surprise. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

She curls into him, bringing on a deluge of emotion and memories that nearly topple him where he stands. She still wears the same perfume. “Likewise, husband of mine.”

Husband? But…

She presses her lips to his, tenderly stroking his cheek. For a moment, Trystan holds motionless. Part of him feels twenty-two again, kissing the woman he loves when love is a new and dazzling experience that he never expected to have. But deep inside, a voice blares a warning.

Wrong.

He pulls back. Juliana considers it a tacit suggestion.

“Yes, yes, you’re right. We need to get to work. There are a hundred details to finalize and even more to double check. I’m happy that we’re to finally be the hosts of this ball, but I don’t think I truly realized how much work it was going to be.”

If they’re hosting the Christmas Ball, then that means he’s… and they’re…

Fear trails cold fingers down his spine, and he finishes untangling himself in a burst of panic.

Where is Emma?

“Well? Are you ready to get started?”

His royal training kicks in, allowing him to keep his turmoil in check. “Right, yes. Remind me what’s on the agenda for today?”

She rattles off an intimidatingly long list, complete with receiving the guests who would be arriving for the week. “Bas and Em will be here any minute now. Play nice.”

It’s unexpected that Sebastyan and Emika would arrive anywhere together, but the warning is fair – or it would be, if he weren't so relieved that his brother is alive. Presumably, he thinks with a pang of shame, this Trystan still despises his little brother. “I’ll do my best.”

“I mean it, Trystan. You know she doesn’t like you, and the last thing we need is you antagonizing one of our guests.”

He stops. “She?”

“Oh, please get it together. Emma already didn’t like you before. Now that she and Bas are together, she’s unlikely to see you in a more positive light. You know how in love they are.”

Everything inside of him goes cold.

It can’t be.

“Of course. What is Emma’s last name again?”

She gives him a look. “Trystan, darling, Rose is hardly a difficult name to remember. What is the matter with you today?”

“It’s n-nothing. Give me a moment.”

He locks himself in the bathroom before she can reply.

He can’t breathe.

Emma doesn’t like, let alone love him. She’s in love with someone else. With his brother. The words keep replaying in his mind, equally unbelievable each time. It’s like someone completely changed the rules of the game and threw away the handbook.

He doesn't know how to live in a world where Emma doesn’t love him.

All this time, when he was wishing he could have saved Juliana, he never stopped to consider that if he had, he and Emma wouldn’t be together. Much less that Emma might be with Bas.

What the hell does he do now?

The thought emerges fully formed. I want to go back. But can he truly wish for a world where Juliana and Sebastyan are dead, simply because the woman he loves is in love with someone else? Is he truly that selfish?

Trystan emerges back into the suite with a forced smile. “You go ahead, I’ll get dressed and meet you in a moment.”

His heart is hammering in his chest when he heads to the front entrance, fully dressed and looking as regal as he’s capable of looking. Juliana is hugging Bas, and right next to him is… He sucks in a breath, drinking in the sight of Emma, holding back the desire to rush to her side and take her in his arms. Then she looks up and sees him standing at the top of the staircase.

Her smile fades.

His heart trembles. Even when they first met, before he wormed his way into her good graces, Emma never looked at him with such patent dislike.

Juli and Bas break apart, and she moves to hug her. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been too long.”

“I know. I’ve been busy. For that matter, so have you.”

Juliana waves this off. “Never too busy for a friend. I thought you’d be coming over sooner. Didn’t you arrive a few days ago? Oh, what am I saying. Bas wasn’t going to let you out of his apartment after spending all that time apart.”

Sebastyan wraps a possessive arm around Emma’s shoulders. “I didn’t get to see her in over two months. I wasn’t ready to share her.”

Juliana laughs, then glances over her shoulder. “Trystan! What are you doing up there? Come greet our guests.”

Somehow, his feet carry him to the foot of the stairs. “Hello, Bas. Emma. It’s good to see you both.”

“Trystan.” Sebastyan’s stiff tone says that he doesn’t like him any more than he did in the original timeline. But Trystan can tell he’s making an effort, probably for Juliana’s sake. “We appreciate the welcome.”

“No need. This is your home, too.” It’s probably Sebastyan’s home more than it’s ever been Trystan’s, but that’s neither here nor there. His eyes slide over to Emma’s.

She lifts her chin a fraction. “Your Majesty.”

It’s all wrong. Emma has called him Your Majesty before, but the tone was always affectionate and teasing. This… this sounds like she’s talking to his mother. Polite. Formal. Cold.

“Please, Trystan is fine.” He holds out a hand, and after a brief hesitation, she takes it. He resists the impulse to pull her to him, but he can’t help savoring the feel of her skin.

Emma’s hand tenses in his, and he realizes that he’s been holding on to it. He lets her go quickly. “Well, you should be shown where you're staying.”

Juliana gives him an odd look. “They already know where they're staying. In the same room where Bas lived for twenty years, and where they stay every time they come over.”

He would be more confused by that twenty years remark if the singular room hadn’t sucker punched him. His gaze falls on their entwined hands. “Of course. My apologies, I’m afraid I’m running on little sleep today.”

All three of them look like they don't quite believe him. But Emma… Emma looks the way she always does when a new mystery fires up her mind. He can practically hear the cogs of her mind turning.

Then she shrugs and turns to Sebastyan. "We should unpack."

Juliana smiles. "Certainly. Don't forget that we're having a small family dinner this evening."

"We'll be there," Sebastyan says, before wrapping an arm around Emma's waist. They both head upstairs.

Trystan's gaze follows them. Sorrow swells up in his chest.

What the hell has he done?

[nebelihood]

Heya! I’m not sure if you’ve been asked this before so I’m sorry if this seems repetitive, but I’ve recently gotten into your baffy comics and wanted to try and read them in order. Do you have a master list of them, or could you tell me the order so I can understand the plot better?

(Love your style and hope you’re having a good day!💜💜)

OMGGGG SO EXCITING!!!! AAAAAGHH! OKAY! I Don't:( yet BUT- I can explain it to you (but you'd need to scroll down a lot)

(Edit: I'm adding links to the ones that are connected)

The first part of the ungoing one is Couple's therapy

And starts with this image. This comic is divided in various chapters but each of them has the name and pt/part with the number so you can't get lost there (they also have the same bg color unless it transitions to something else along the pages) Next-

Break up

This is the first page and has a color transition to a darker color but promise you won't get lost!

Getting over

Is the next chapter and transitions to a pink color! I think the firsts two parts have links under them for the following parts but I kinda got lazy (And I'm wating till it's fully posted) with the these.

New Life

Is the last

Other comics

There's Kitty Visits

This one is connected (at least the beginnig) with links on the description.

Looney tunes Action! au

(not connected)

Acting au

There are a bunch or Random one that are meant to be funny little moments but don't have much story so you can just enjoy them as you find them!

[psalacanthea]

WiP Wednesday

Since Durge and Gortash won the Friday poll, I'll pull something out of the other BG3 fic for WiP day. My pace with the new chapter is a little slow, between taking a week off and now dealing with Pain, but hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to focus enough to make some real progress.

From the Astarion x Tav longfic, a little bit of WiP for your amusement. (if you would like to be tagged to do your own in the future, pls let me know)

...

“Well, if you used that sensible mind you keep claiming to have, you’d know that obviously I’m her patron,” Astarion sneered at Shadowheart.  His voice relaxed, going lazy and dismissive once more.  “And muse, naturally.”

Zyn considered drawing a gigantic curly moustache on her sketch of him.  It was rude to interrupt.  “My peerage or lack thereof has not yet been shared– please avoid making assumptions about me.”  No, this wasn’t right.  He looked too…neat and tidy.  She grimaced at her sketch, and then glanced back up at her subject.  “Could I see a little more collarbone on the left side?”

“I’m not giving it away,” Astarion scoffed.

“Darling it’s for aesthetics, not expression of base lechery,” she begged.  “Your neckline is too symmetrical, it doesn’t give me ‘careless dandy’.”

Astarion scowled at her, lifting her stolen goblet as he demanded, “regal!  Make me look regal!”

How dare he not trust her artistic acumen.

“Even if your life depended on you appearing ‘regal’, I doubt I could oblige,” she snapped. "You egregious twink."

Shadowheart laughed faintly.

Astarion gasped, lifting a hand to his chest. His not nearly bared-enough chest.  “How dare you!  I am your patron! I could have you thrown out on the street!”

“Oh please, if there’s one thing upstart would-be nobles need, it’s portrait painters.  There’ll be another dozen of you by teatime.  You can dictate when you pay me, you contrary piss-puddle”  Zyn added shading to his neck, pausing as she glanced up to find his eyes on her.  He didn’t look angry, despite the insult.  He was smiling.  Ugh, that was the wrong expression entirely!  “Tilt your chin to the side!  Again. I told you to stop moving.”

Astarion sighed in annoyance and rolled his head to the left, hair swaying.

“I have no idea what’s going on, and yet I can’t look away,” Shadowheart said.

She settled down abruptly, pausing with one hand on the ground to snag one of Astarion’s pillows.  He made an irritated noise, but didn’t bother retaliating.  Zyn’s briefly riled mood flared up again.  Why could she have a pillow, but Zyn hadn’t been allowed one?

Traitor!

Zyn glared at Astarion until he glanced away from the goblet of wine he was staring into contemplatively. Her nose wrinkled as their eyes met. The pasty reprobate sighed heavily, eyes rolling skyward.

"What now?"

“You’ll not be welcome in my bed any longer if I catch you giving someone preferential treatment over me,” she threatened him.

“You–"  Astarion stared at her in shock, and then laughed, lifting a hand to his mouth. "Aha. Ha!" He dissolved into laughter as he sprawled back onto his pillows, ignoring her scowl.

Zyn slapped her stub of twine-wrapped pencil down on the paper, leaving a crumbled line as the tip snapped. "Stop it."

“Hah! I can’t believe you actually thought that would work!”

“I mean it, this is serious!” she whined as he started laughing over her again, throwing his head back. “You blaggard! That's it. It's moustache time.”

[wooyolvr1117]

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ MY PC DARLING ♡︎ SMAU/WRITTEN

PAIRING. streamer!Beomgyu x fem!Y/N

GENRE. fluff,crack, strangers to lovers, frenemies to lovers (later on)

WARNINGS. cursing, slight angst, sexual jokes, online hate comments, douchey comments, OOC occasionally, inaccurate time stamps, tweets might be called notes bc of the app I’m using and it’s an easy app so I’m too lazy to change LOL (more to be added as necessary)

SYNOPSIS.

Choi Beomgyu has built his small found fame on streaming his late night ranked League of Legends games with besties Huening Kai and Kang Taehyun. What started as a stream bet of Beomgyu having to put his next Uber eats pick up order under the name ‘Darling’ turned into an ongoing stream bit where he orders under the name Darling and rates how well the lovely workers behind the counter say it. It’s all fun and games and helps keeps his views up until the seemingly quiet barista at the new cafe on the corner makes him wish she’d call him darling every day of his life. Will the rizzless Beomgyu and his 4 lovable pain in his asses help him win over the barista’s heart? ♡︎

TAGLIST 🏷️. @niccoverse @silvsie @koeuh @xiaoting999 @dakota-04 @makiswrld @fatoompie @captivq open! Send an ask or reply to this post to join!

PROFILES.

《THE RIZZ MASTERS》

《THE CUTIE TRIO》

CHAPTERS.

1. Cafe Orders

AUTHORS NOTE. (022223)

I’m finally getting around to starting my first socmed au!! I will be posting the profiles up within the next few days and get ahead on writing chapters so I can have a backlog before I start posting!! I apologize if I have slow updates occasionally(ﾒ﹏ﾒ) I work full time and then run a dance team full time so I’ll try to find time in between!

my pc darling ©️ poppinjunie DONT REPOST/REUSE

[avengerscompound]

The Recruit - 2. You

The Recruit - An Avengers Fanfiction

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count: 3124

Warnings: None this chapter

Synopsis:  When Sam Wilson is set up on a blind date, he doesn’t expect anything to come from it.  He is already in a relationship after all, and not just with one other person, but a whole group of them. You never expected to end up working for the Avengers let alone be dating six of them at the same time.  Now you’re balancing a new job, a new romance, new friends, and a secret that could destroy a lot of lives if it got out.  It’s a tricky balance to get right at the best of times, but when something happens to Steve Rogers it’s up to the people who love him most to get him back.

2. You

There had been a lot of different dates you’d had in your life.  Good dates.  Bad dates.  Fun dates.  Boring dates.  You’d done everything from the old-fashioned dinner and movie to taking a hot air balloon ride through the countryside.  Yet even with all the different dates, you’d been on with people you barely knew or knew really well, you had never felt such a strong connection with someone as you had Sam Wilson.

The date hadn’t even been that outstanding.  If you’d described the date to someone and only said the things you did, you were sure they’d tell you it sounded horrible.  Sitting outside Madison Square Garden with an ice cream listening to a band neither of you had paid to see sounded cheap and lazy.  Yet it had been fun, and relaxed, and you had loved talking to him.  He had somehow managed to both listen to you in a way that made you feel like you were the most important person in the world and to be able to hold your attention with every story he told.

The date was so good when Sam called you, you weren’t at all surprised.  Delighted - but not surprised.

“I was hoping you might like to come around,” Sam said.  “I’m a decent cook and my sister always said cooking for someone was the best way to share a part of you.”

“Aren’t you an old romantic?” you teased.  Normally you would be a little hesitant about being invited to a homemade dinner so early. They always seemed to come with the expectation of sex.  You weren’t opposed to having sex early on, but you liked to come to these things naturally without added pressure.  You trusted Sam though.  Not just because you had gotten along so well, but also because he was also an Avenger.  The fact he hadn’t gone in for a goodnight kiss was encouraging too.  He didn’t seem like the kind of person to pressure you.  Besides - you could handle yourself if your instincts were completely off.  “I’d love that.”

“There’s just one thing - and I get it if it’s a deal-breaker - but the tower has a lot of hush-hush stuff in it.  Plus, you know, the Avengers all kind of want to keep their private lives private, so coming here needs you to sign an NDA,” he explained, sounding about as nervous as he had when you’d shown up to the restaurant.  “It’s standard and I can send it to you if you want a lawyer to look it over - and I get if you’re not comfortable, we can do something else…”

“No, it’s fine,” you laughed, interrupting him.  “Send it over.  I’m ex-special-ops, remember?  I get the need for Non-Disclosure Agreements.”

“Great,” Sam said with a sigh of relief.  “I’ll email it to you now.  If you read it over and change your mind, let me know.  We can go catch a game or something.”

The NDA had been fine in the end.  Nothing out of the ordinary, just a promise not to share sensitive information about the Avengers’ business or the private lives of the residents of the tower.  You signed it and sent it back, and the following Friday you arrived at the tower at six to meet with Sam.

You had to pass through security when you got to the tower and you were directed to an elevator and told to just get on and it would take you to the correct floor.

The doors opened to a large open area with an open kitchen, a large glass dining table, and several couches along one side of the room, each paired with a small table.  Behind them were frosted glass windows that seemed to lead into various offices.  There was a selection of art on the walls and sculptures scattered here and there, but your eyes were drawn to the people sitting on the couches by the window that looked out over the city.

You froze when you saw them.  It had been nerve-wracking first meeting Sam.  He wasn’t just famous for being Falcon of the Avengers, he was legendary in special ops, and the date Joaquín had set up seemed too good to be true.  You had needed to work up to it and practice not saying something dumb.  It was Sam’s nerves that set yours at ease.  Yet here was a whole group of Avengers you hadn’t been expecting to see at all.  Not just any Avengers either.  Most of them were big names.

Steve Rogers sat sandwiched between Bucky Barnes and a blond woman you didn’t recognize, while Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton were stretched out on the couch opposite them.

Not even when Steve Rogers stood quickly to greet you and the others slowly got up with him, could you make yourself unstuck from the floor.  “Hi!” Steve said, warmly approaching you.  “You must be Sam’s date.  He’s just stuck in a meeting that’s gone two hours over so far.  He asked that we keep you entertained.  He shouldn’t be much longer.”

You took his hand and shook it and he gestured to the chairs.  You managed to move, though you hadn’t said anything yet.  “This is Clint, Natasha, Sharon, and Bucky,” Steve said, indicating from right to left.

You nodded and introduced yourself and Clint moved over to make room beside him on the couch.

“Can I get you a drink?” Steve asked when everyone except him was sitting again.

“Oh god yes,” you said, looking around at what everyone else was nursing.  Clint and Steve both seemed to have beers, while Bucky had a glass with two fingers of whiskey in it.  Sharon had a glass of red wine and Natasha had a bright red cocktail in a champagne croup.  “A beer would be great.”

Steve grabbed one from the fridge and handed it to you as he took his seat between Sharon and Bucky again.  “Sorry that you had to meet the friends after only one date,” Sharon said.  “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Could be worse.  Could be his sister grilling me about his intentions,” you joked.

“Oh god, that’d be the worst,” Clint said.  “But I guess at least Sarah’s nice. When I met this one’s sister, she tried to kill me.” 

“Harsh,” you said.  You laughed along with the lightness of the comment, but the way he made it sound, you had a feeling that it was a factual story and not a joke.  It was also your first sign that Clint and Natasha were a couple.  You wondered why they kept it a big secret from the public.

“I mean, to be fair, your brother has tried to kill all of us,” Natasha said.

“Yeah, but that’s just because he’s like that, not because he has beef with you guys specifically,” Clint argued.

“What about the rest of you?  Any other siblings trying to kill any of you?” you asked.

“No, I got on pretty well with Bucky’s sister when she was alive, and Sharon and I are only children,” Steve answered.

“He did date my great-aunt though, so that was a little weird,” Sharon answered.

Which meant that Sharon and Steve were a couple.  That was interesting because of the way Bucky was sitting so close, you had thought for a second that he and Steve were together.

Steve held up his hands.  “I didn’t know she was your aunt when I first asked you out.  And it’s not my fault that the Carter family tree has such amazing women on it.”

“Well, when you say things like that how am I supposed to resist you?” Sharon said and nudged him.

“I mean we all have eyes, it’s already pretty hard to resist him,” Clint teased.

“When have you been able to resist anyone, birdbrain?” Bucky said, raising his eyebrow.

Clint fell back laughing. “Wow.  I am definitely going to get you for that later.”

As you sipped your beer and listened to them banter you were surprised by how easy it was to get along with them.  They were funny and not pretentious and they seemed kind, even behind the sarcasm.  A trait that was not always easy to find in people.  The other thing that slowly dawned on you was that your initial assumption that two couples were sitting with you was wrong.  Sam’s friends were in a five-person polycule.  You weren’t sure if they were all dating each other or not, but there was definitely some crossing between them.

As you finished your beer, Sam arrived.  You stood as he approached and he kissed your cheek in greeting.  “Hey, sorry I was so late.  I hope they weren’t too annoying.”

“They were really lovely actually,” you said.  “Maybe I don’t want to go with you anymore.”

Sam put his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”

“That’s what you get for standing her up,” Clint teased. “We swoop in and steal her.” 

“I’m the only one who does any swooping here,” Sam countered as you hooked your arm around his.

“I’m ready when you are,” you said.  “It was really nice meeting you all.  Thank you for keeping me company.”

“Anytime,” Steve said.

“We should all get dinner together,” Natasha added.

“Hey now, lady,” Sam teased.  “Let’s see how this date goes before we start planning weddings.”

You waved goodbye to them as you followed Sam back into the elevator.  “Your friends are really nice,” you said as you stood beside him facing the door.

“Yeah, they’re good people,” Sam agreed.  “And they must have taken to you if they’re inviting you around for dinner.”

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder.  “Hey, I am awesome.”

Sam looked at you with soft eyes and smiled.  “I’m starting to see that.”

You could feel your face heat up and you stared up at the numbers on the elevator watching them countdown.  The doors opened and you followed Sam to his apartment.  It was a clean space, but with the kind of clutter that you expect in a home that’s lived in.  He had a wine rack attached to the wall half filled with different bottles and a large glass bowl under it that held a ludicrous amount of corks.  There was both a CD and a record player in the hall with a huge stack of vinyls and CDs.  The walls were decorated with a mixture of photography and art and there were random sports trophies, model planes, jars filled with feathers, and loose golf balls and tees decorating the place.  You followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the bench.

“I hope you like seafood,” he said.  “My folks had a fishing boat when I was growing up.  We still own it - but my sister runs it now.   You don’t grow up in New Orleans on a fishing boat without picking up a thing or two.  If I had more time I’d do a gumbo, but as you can see - “ he waved his hands around a little frantically as he went to the fridge. “I did pick up some fresh shrimp and halibut at the market this morning.   I thought I’d blacken the halibut, and do some cajun shrimp and rice.  What do you think?”

“I think a girl could get used to this,” you said, making Sam laugh.  “Can I help out at least?”

“Of course,” he said, getting a chopping board and the knife block and putting it in front of you.  “If you could cut up the vegetables, we’ll take it from there.”

You began to cut up the onion, garlic, peppers, and corn as Sam buzzed around the kitchen getting different things out and starting to prep the seafood.  “You okay with spice?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, go crazy,” you agreed.  “Make me regret being born.”

Sam burst into laughter and nudged you.  “That’s what I like to hear.  Steve is a complete pussy when it comes to spice.  The guy can lift a car full of people over his head but put pepper in his mashed potatoes and you’d think he was dying.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image.  “Poor Steve - he grew up in the 20s.”

“And he’s Irish, don’t forget that,” he said.

“I would never,” you agreed.  “I mean, it’s pretty impressive how much he’s adapted to though.  All the tech, and changes in the way people think.  The guy’s polyamorous, you have to give him a little leeway on his baby palate.”

Sam looked over at you with his eyebrow raised. “You picked up on that, huh?”

“Well - I am an expert on reconnaissance,” you said.  “I’m good at noticing things.”

“How do you feel about that?” Sam asked.  The tone in his voice made you think this was important to him and that he wanted an honest answer and not for you to just go along with it out of politeness.

You shrugged.  “Love is love, right? I don’t think love should be just limited to two people.  As long as everyone is on the same page and consenting adults.  I think I’d even be open to it myself if I felt that strongly about more than one person.  Why limit yourself?  I think mostly I’m impressed he and Bucky were open to it given the time they’re from.  There must have been a lot of internal prejudices to get past to allow themselves to be open to that kind of love.”

Sam’s smile seemed to soften more as he gazed at you.   “You’d be open to it?”

“I mean - I’ve never tried it, but - yeah?  I think so.  I’ve thought about it in the past and how if someone brought it up with me or if I’d be open to falling in love with more than one person.  I don’t think I need it, but I’d be open to it,” you explained.

Sam made a relieved-sounding sigh and looked down at the fish he was preparing and then back at you.  “I’m really happy to hear that.  See I need to admit to something.  I wanted you to come here so you’d meet them.  The date we were set up on?  I had been turning it down for a long time.  You see Joaquín didn’t know that I’m already seeing someone.  Five someones.  I’m part of that group too.  But I had so much fun with you… if you’re open to it, we’d like to date you too.”

You looked at him with wide eyes.  “What?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and you don’t have to decide now.  I don’t even really know how it would work.  I guess we’d have to get together and discuss the details of that,” Sam said.  “All I know for sure is - I’ve felt the kind of instant connection we have before once.  And I’m now completely head over heels in love with that man.  I know for a fact that love can be shared between more than two people at a time.  That’s the lifestyle I’m part of.  It’d be a damn shame to miss out on that kind of love again because it’s not conventional.”

You shook your head like you were trying to clear it.  “I think I need a drink.”

Sam laughed softly.  “There should be white wine in the fridge.  There’s some beer for sure.  If you check the freezer there’s Vodka.

You went to the freezer and took out the vodka.  Sam pointed to a cabinet behind him where he kept his glasses.  “They’re all open to this?” you asked.

“They said they wanted to meet you,” he said.  “But we’re very much about grabbing happiness where we can find it.  A lot of us don’t get that very much.  Our jobs are isolating and dangerous.  We lose people we love.  Back before I met them I was seeing a guy and he died in a firefight.  I mean - I don’t have to tell you how dangerous our jobs are.  You’ve been there.  If they think that dating you will make me happy, they’re open to it.  But we do have a lot to think about.  I mean if you’re just happy to go along with whatever we suggest we don’t want to blow up what we already have.  And you’re not just going to go along with what we want.  You have to protect yourself too.” 

You poured yourself a shot and downed it. “Okay -” you said shaking yourself off.  “This is a lot to think about.”

“I know,” he said, pausing what he was doing with his skillet and looking at you.  “Look, maybe what works for us is just you and me dating, while you’re aware that I’m with other people.  That will mean you have to realize my time will be limited.  But - whatever works, works right?  Just - think about it.  What do you want?  What are you willing to try?  What are straight-up no deals for you?  I guess, just remember - we have to be secretive.  The public wouldn’t like the idea of Captain America being bisexual and polyamorous.  Other than that - you’ll be the new person in an established group.  It won’t always be easy to be in that position.  But - you have to admit - we had a connection.” 

You let out a breath and poured yourself another drink.  “This is a lot.  I mean - we haven’t even kissed.”

Sam smirked.  “I can change that,” he said.

You looked at him and took a step forward.  He took your hand and pulled you towards him.  When your body was pressed against his you, he leaned in.  You bridged the difference bringing your lips to his.  His lips were soft and he grazed them over yours.  You had read about the spark people felt when they kissed someone before, but you’d never felt it before.  Not until now.  As you kissed Sam Wilson it felt like a current ran through you, setting every one of your nerve endings alight.  He was smiling when he pulled back and your mouth chased his for just a moment.

“How about this,” he said, caressing your jaw with your thumb.  “Let’s have a nice dinner together.  We can see how we fit.  You can go home tonight and think about it.  Call me when you know what you want to do.”

You nodded and let out a breath.  “Yeah.  I think that is a good idea,” you agreed.

He pecked your lips again and went back to cooking.  There was definitely a spark between you.  It was a connection you hadn’t felt with anyone in a long time.  The question was; could you handle any of this?

// NEXT

[loveharlow]

FOUR - HOT 'N COLD

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS; [5k] A day spent in the springs ends with a fleeting moment in a hot tub between two "best friends" that may be the start of something new or the beginning of the end of their nearly year long situation-ship.

CHAPTER WARNING(S); swearing, mutual pining, mild angst, mentions of food, little bit of pope x kie drama, a couple OC's I randomly added for shits and giggles

A/N; Okayyy so we finally got a little bit of confrontation and I feel like this chapter deserves a moodboard as well (or two...). SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO PROOFREAD THIS TWICE

PSA; School is starting back up for me so the chapters will be moving a bit slower :/. Not too much, but still.

series masterlist jj masterlist

“IS THIS SPOT OKAY?” SARAH ASKED. She’d stopped in the tall-grass littered area marked “picnics” on the wooden sign we’d passed. I studied the area with a hand over my eyes, shielding them from the harsh sun that was beating down on us since this morning.

I was between the impromptu line we’d been walking in since we’d arrived at the springs, Sarah and Kiara in front of me while John B, Pope and JJ trailed towards the end. 

Kie nodded, her bottom lip sticking out and eyebrows lifted in acceptance. “I think this is fine. Plus, we’re a fair distance from everything else.” She was right. We stood about equal distance from each of the activities, not that it mattered. Canoeing to the right, the waters that were safe to swim in to the left, and some kind of free-play zone in front of us — people playing volleyball, racing and some simply lounging in the area where the grass was sparse and revealed more sand.

Sarah nodded and set down the picnic basket, the rest of us plopping down on the ground in a makeshift circle and unloading the contents of the woven basket. 

“What is all this shit? I thought you brought food. Y’know, mini burgers ‘n shit.” John B criticized as he examined the food we’d pulled out of the basket — chocolate covered strawberries, mini club sandwiches, cans of soda.

“It’s a picnic, you moron. Not a three-course meal.” Kie snapped back, eliciting an eye roll from the brunette boy. 

“Besides, we probably don’t want to eat much right now anyway. We’re going to be swimming and stuff.” I added, cracking open a can of soda — the cold metal can already cooling off my body from the mere touch.

I was sitting next to Kie as she opened up one of the plastic containers holding a sandwich, Pope and John B next to her while JJ and Sarah were sitting to my left. I sipped on the carbonated drink as my eyes scanned the area.

It was pretty and pleasing to the eyes. Tall trees with beautiful hanging leaves — similar to willow trees, tall grass surrounding us, water and sand further out as people canoed, swam, and just had a great time overall. It was the perfect day for something like this — sunny and extremely hot.

We didn’t actually have plans today, for the record. But we decided to find something to do, seeing as it was our, what? Fourth day here? It seemed too early for a lazy day. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Pope piped up, mouth full of grapes. Everyone looked at me, seeing as I had mentioned earlier that I had seen this particular attraction online before and knew a few of the activities we could engage in.

I shrugged nonchalantly, reaching for one of the triangle-cut sandwiches. “I thought we’d go canoeing first. None of us have done it before and it seems to be the leading attraction here.”

“I’m all in. As long as our personal tour guide is recommending it.” JJ joked. It provoked a small smile from me but it didn’t reach my eyes. 

I was still reeling from the events of yesterday. Him wiping the sauce from the corner of my mouth, the eye contact…and the abrupt cut-off. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if I didn’t know what he was doing — JJ was avoiding confrontation, something he did all too well. I’m not an idiot. And neither is he. We were more than friends, that much was clear. And if JJ knew me at all, and he knows me better than almost anyone, he would know that I want answers as to what we are. I need them. 

So, yeah. I was distancing myself from him a bit since the day started. Did he notice? Most likely. But maybe it was about time I started thinking less about why JJ was avoiding me and more about moving on and letting this whole fling-but-not-a-fling thing go. It wasn’t healthy for either of us and I don’t know how he felt but I felt ignored and played with in a sense. I don’t know how much longer I can continue to be friends with him and act like there was nothing there. Because it seemed like he’d keep this game up forever and I didn’t sign up for that.

JJ gave a confused expression at my lack of response but I averted my eyes elsewhere. “Well,” Kie chipped in. “-If we’re going canoeing we might as well hurry. The workers mentioned there’s a limited number of canoes so if we get there too late we’ll have to wait for another party to return.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, finishing off their sodas and snacks and stripping off their shirts and bottoms — revealing our bikinis and swim trunks underneath. The lack of clothing brought a welcomed cool to our slightly sweaty bodies as we folded our clothes and set them on the blanket to head off in the direction of the small boats. 

ARRIVING AT THE EDGE OF THE WATER WHERE THE CANOES WERE, AN EMPLOYEE APPROACHED OUR GROUP WITH A BRIGHT SMILE. She was a beautiful dark-skinned girl with dark brown shoulder length hair that was bouncing with tight curls — a bright smile and wide-brown eyes adorning her round face. She was glowing under the sun as she waltzed over to us in a one-piece sporting the springs logo on the front.

“Hi there.” She stopped in front of us, fiddling with the blue whistle that was attached to a lanyard around her neck. “First time here?”. We all nodded in response. “Okay, great. Awesome. Uh- so unfortunately, we are all out of three-seaters so we only have two-seater canoes but on the bright side-” She surveyed our small group, her eyes lingering on Pope a little longer. “It looks like there’s an even number of you. So if you don’t mind, you can pair up and I can go retrieve the canoes for you.” She suggested.

We told her that was fine and she turned around to start dragging the canoes closer to the edge of the lake. I nudged Pope’s shoulder and he whipped his head around quickly.

“I think a certain cute lifeguard likes you.” The boy scoffed and ran a hand over his head, avoiding eye contact with me.

“No way.” He shook his head, staring at the girl as she struggled to drag the canoes by herself. “She’s like- wayy out of my league. I mean, she’s hot.”

I rolled my eyes and moved to stand behind him as the rest of our friends chatter mindlessly behind us. “First of all, stop selling yourself short.” I reprimanded, pulling his ear. “You’re attractive, Pope. And smart. You’re...a little awkward but we love you all the same,” He rolled his eyes at my teasing. “And plus, that hot girl over there, who by the way could use a helping hand with those canoes, gave you the most obvious heart eyes eyes known to man. So, stop standing here self-deprecating and help that hot employee bring our canoes over.”

“Oh, no. I can’t-” He protested as I pushed him farther towards the struggling girl. “Y/n…”

“Hey!” I called out in the direction of the girl who looked around our age. “My friend, Pope here, can help you out if you need a hand.”

She smiled, a slight blush rushing to her face. “Yeah, yeah. That’d be great. Thank you,” She tucked a strand of her curls behind her ears, sticking a hand out in Pope’s direction — who was, admittedly, standing awkwardly as if he had no clue what to do with his body. “I’m Mallory.”

Pope smiled back and shook her hand. “Pope.” He shut his eyes tightly in mild embarrassment. “But you already knew that…” She giggled and Pope cracked an eye open, surprised she didn’t immediately lose interest at his lack of laid-backness, and smiled at her before helping her move the canoes over to us, me making my way back to the group as they were now staring at me in bewilderment.

"What?"

“Did you just set Pope up?” Kiara asked, arms crossed over her chest — she was trying her best to hide a look of annoyance but it was shining through in the slightest of ways. 

“Uh, yeah? Don’t act like we didn’t see her eye him up and down.” Everyone, except for Kie, nodded in agreement while John B and JJ muttered things like ‘finally’ and ‘that’s my boy’. 

“They got the boats in the water. Might as well head over there.” Kie spoke shortly, walking over and away from us. What’s up with her?

“Wait, what about the pairs-”

“Already got it settled, gorgeous. You’re with me.” JJ winked before walking past me. 

Great. Just great. I should’ve known.

AFTER MALLORY, THE SWEET EMPLOYEE, HAD EXPLAINED EVERYTHING TO US, WE GOT IN THE WATER. She had instructed us not to go past the bright red bowies set out in the water and that the canoe ride was purely for scenic value — no “horseplay”. JJ and I were behind the other two canoes that held the rest of our group — John B and Sarah in the middle, annoying his girlfriend by poking her with the paddle while Pope and Kie led the way, making idle conversation. It sparked a question in my mind.

“Is Kie alright?”

JJ turned to me, continuing to paddle lightly. “What do you mean?”

“She seemed kind of ticked off when I brought up Pope and the girl hitting it off.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

JJ shook his head and chuckled lowly, tilting his head back up to flip the hair out of his face. “Kie still has a thing for Pope.” My eyes went wide and my mouth dropped open slightly.

“Wh- she broke things off with him.”

“And now she regrets it.

I sighed and let my shoulders fall. “If I’d known I wouldn’t have pushed him to make a move.”

“Why?”

“Well because, now Kie is probably pissed at me and I feel like a shitty friend.”

JJ shrugged and looked me in the eyes. “So? That’s not on you. We’re adults now. If Kie is pissed it’s no one’s fault but hers. She can’t expect him to wait forever. She has to toughen up or he’s going to move on.”

I laughed at this, a bit bitterly in all honesty, and turned away from him to look at the water as we continued to paddle and take in the scenery. He’s one to talk, I thought. JJ had basically voiced my own troubles, our troubles, vicariously through Pope and Kiara. If he could read them like a book with no problem, why was he struggling to do so with me? I practically had it written in sharpie on my forehead; “I am hopelessly in love with JJ Maybank.” If having your heart on your sleeve was a real, physical thing, mine was stapled to my bare wrist.

I felt a broad hand on my shoulder and returned my gaze to the blonde beside me who now held a look of concern. “Hey, you alright? You went silent on me.”

“I’m fine.” I replied, being short with him. I was being petty, I know. He doesn’t even know that I’m upset and if he does he has no clue why. But I just can’t bring myself to care thinking about all the times JJ has made me feel that exact same feeling — confusion.

“Y/n,”

“I’m fine, JJ.” I snapped at him a bit. Taking a deep breath, I met his eyes. “Sorry, J. I didn’t mean to- I just thought about something. Don’t worry about it.” I sent him a reassuring smile. Nudging my head forward in the direction of our friends who were now more than a few feet ahead of us, I spoke once more, “C’mon. We’re too far behind.”

He nodded but the look in his eyes was hesitant. I felt like everything was coming to the surface and I don’t know how much more time we have to play this game of back and forth before I fly off the handle.

AFTER WE WERE DONE WITH CANOEING, WE HEADED OVER TO THE SWIM AREA. It was a beautiful lake and if you were able to swim back far enough, you could reach the soft, trickling waterfall — that was apparently a popular photo site for visitors Mallory claimed, the girl stuck with us after informing us that her shift was over and Pope invited her to hang out with us before she had to leave. 

It was cooling down but the water still held a nice warmth to it from the sun that was present earlier in the day.

We've been having a great time so far. Everyone seemed to hit it off with Mallory and to top things off, she was attending the same college as me. As the day dwindled and we fooled around in the glistening body of water, the people surrounding us decreased by the minute — soon leaving only us in the water as any remaining guests sat on the grass. 

I noticed Kie had drifted away from the group, brows pinched close together as she was lost in her thoughts when I waded up to her, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

She rolled her eyes and looked down at the water. “I’m trying to be.”

I sighed and wound one of my arms around her shoulders. “‘M sorry, Kie. I wish you would’ve told me you still had a thing for him.”

Her head lifted from my shoulder swiftly as her eyes went huge, before squinting at me. “How did you- I am never telling JJ anything ever again.” She grumbled under her breath, head falling to my shoulder once again as we waded slowly.

“He has a point, though. If what he said to you was anything like what he said to me, then he’s right. You shooed him off, Kie. He wanted you, badly. You can’t be mad that he’s moving on or at least trying to.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, well maybe JJ should take a page out of his own book.” I winced at her harsh tone, knowing the jab was directed at me in a sense as well. She sighed and squeezed my hand that was draped over her shoulders. “Sorry. That was rude.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. You’re right. I mean, it was still kind of rude but I get it.”

“You are too. Right, I mean. I don’t even think I’m in love with him or anything like you are with JJ. But I did genuinely like Pope at some point. I guess it’s hard to see someone make him smile so easily in less than an hour than how I tried to for weeks.”

“At least you’re self-aware.” I joked, both of us giggling. “But I’ll have you know that I think you and Mallory would hit it off really well. She’s part of this beach clean-up program and there’s some open spots.”

I felt the brown-haired girl smile against my shoulder, lifting her head up, my arm slipping from her shoulders. She shook herself off and took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m Pope’s friend. And I need to act like it. I’m happy for him.” She smiled genuinely, small but genuine.

I held my arm out for her to hook her own through mine, which she did with a bright smile causing one to break out on my own face. We made our way back over to the group where they were all still caught up in a conversation and getting to know Mallory, Kie unraveling her arm from mine and joining in. 

“What’d you say to her?” A gravelly voice spoke from behind me, startling me. I twirled around to find JJ looking down at me — shirtless and hair hanging over his face while his signature shark tooth necklace dangling in front of his toned chest.

“Nothing, really. Basically what you told me. That she has to pretty much let him move on and for her to do the same.” JJ smiled at me admiringly and slung one toned arm over my frame.

“When did you become so wise?” The boy teased as he lightly shook me back and forth in a playful manner.

I forced out a small laugh. “When I started to relate to Kie more than I thought I could.” I mumbled.

His playful smile dropped a bit and his eyebrows pulled themselves together. “What do you mean by that?” Looking up at him, I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders under the weight of his arm.

“Nothing.” He raised a curious brow as if to ask ‘really?’ and I plastered a smile on my cheeks. “I mean it. Honestly.”

“If you say so...” He still looked ambivalent but he let it go. 

“Guys?” Sarah spoke amidst the group of us, standing closer to the shore with a group of 3 girls standing behind her. None of us had even noticed that she’d drifted off. “You up for a game of volleyball before we hit the road? These girls need more people to play with.”

“Count me in.” Kie piped up. “Y/n, you coming? Three-on-three?”

I shrugged and pulled my lips into a thin line. “Why not?” I replied, slipping from under the blonde’s hold and facing him. “Duty calls.” He laughed before jokingly shooing me off. Averting my gaze to Mallory, she was chatting with Pope and I didn't know if I should interrupt but I didn’t want her to feel excluded. “Mallory-” She stopped talking, waiting for me to speak as she made contact with my eyes. “You wanna join? You can be our ref.” I taunted in a friendly manner, wiggling my eyebrows and shaking my shoulders.

She laughed out loud, throwing her head back slightly but shook her head ‘no’. “I think I’m gonna chill here until I have to go. Thanks, though.” I smiled and nodded shortly in her direction before waddling out of the water beside Kie.

We followed Sarah and the other group of girls to the volleyball net that was set in the middle of the sandy plane near the water’s edge, the trio turning to face ours. The girl on the far right broke the silence first — she had bone-straight blonde hair that was pulled back into a low-ponytail and she was significantly shorter than the two girls beside her. 

“I’m Olivia. This-” She pointed to the girl beside her in the middle with similar features to her own — fair skin and blonde hair that was noticeably shorter, enough that it just barely reached her shoulders. “-is Amelia. My older sister. And that-” She craned her neck to look at the girl at the end of the line — jet black hair and olive-toned skin. “-is Mariana. My sister’s best friend and my biggest pain in the ass.”

Mariana rolled her eyes and waved at us. “That is so not true. That little shit is gonna miss me and her sister both when we’re off at college for the next four years.” 

My friends and I smiled at their dynamic. “I’m Y/n.” I voiced, gesturing for the two girls on either side of me. “This Kiara and this is Sarah, my best friends.” We waved in return and got the game going.

They turned out to be really nice girls and Kie and Mariana seemed to be hitting it off and Sarah had even realized she had met Olivia and Amelia before when she went on a business trip with Ward one time. 

The only down-side was that they kicked our asses — Olivia’s one hell of a volleyball player and Amelia’s the one who taught her all she knows. She’s going to college on a sports scholarship. 

The sun had completely set at this point, just now realizing we’d been out practically all day. We were sweaty, damp and smelled like lake water but the day had been a success for the most part.

Sarah and I had bid farewell and separated from the other trio of girls, while Kiara and Mariana were chatting animatedly as Sarah and I stood off to the side and waited for her before a pair of hands came down on my shoulders rather aggressively and a loud “rah!” was heard from behind me.

Whipping around like a kid caught stealing candy, my eyebrows turned downwards and my lips pulled together. “JJ!” I screeched, shoving him back a few inches as he had a grin on his face while John B and Pope stood behind him laughing along, dripping water onto the sand, I assume Mallory had left. “You scared the shit out of me.” I grumbled.

Just then, Kie came bounding back to our group as Mariana returned to her own and bid farewell with a wave. Looking at Kie, I noticed a blush on her cheeks and a small piece of paper she was trying to conceal in her hand, but I’d ask about it later.

“Ready?” Sarah asked, everyone nodding and rushing back over to our spot where all of our belongings remained. We slipped on our shirts and shorts and made our way out of the spring and to the parking lot where the car was. Once inside, Sarah started the car and we were on our way.

WE’D GOTTEN BACK TO THE HOUSE SAFELY AND EVERYONE SPLIT UP TO GO SHOWER AND GO TO SLEEP. We’d tired out from the sun and running around all day.

I was about to head upstairs to hop in the shower and head off to bed. That was, until a hand on my forearm stopped me, craning my neck to find JJ staring up at me from his place at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m gonna get in the hot tub for a minute. Care to join me?” He suggested. I was contemplating it. It sounded nice, in all honesty. We hadn’t touched the hot tub since we got here and having the powerful jets and hot water hit my body before a real shower and going to bed sounded appealing. 

“Lead the way.”

JJ AND I HAD BEEN SITTING IN THE HOT TUB FOR ABOUT TEN MINUTES. Talking about anything and everything and just reveling in the warmth of the bubbling water. It’d gone silent a couple minutes ago, both of our heads thrown back in ecstasy.

“What’s up with you?”

Lifting my head to look straight ahead at him, I tilted my head to the side in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“You just...seemed zoned out today. Like in the canoe, I asked if you were alright like twice and you said it was nothing but I don’t buy it.” He reminded. “Talk to me.” The boy urged.

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“It really is nothing, JJ.”

“I call bull. Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Would he please just drop this? I’ve been holding it together for the most part all day.

“Because nothing is wrong. Why are you so adamant that there is?”

“Because I know you. There’s clearly something going on-” Just fucking drop it-

“Why do you care so much?” I snapped. JJ’s neck reeled back at my harsh tone, a deep look of concern etched on his features as he moved from his place against the side of the hot tub to stand right in front of me, his tall and hot frame towering over mine.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, his hand trailing over my waist under the water, making his touch one-thousand times hotter. “I didn’t mean to push you. I’ve just been worried ‘s all.”

I sighed. “And I appreciate, JJ, I really do. But I really don’t want to talk. Not now, anyway.” I replied gently, too focused on his presence and how the distance between us, or lack of, was making my heart beat out of my chest.

He wants to know what’s wrong? This. This is what’s wrong. How he makes me feel, how he knows he makes me feel.

Silence fell over us as his hand caressed the curve of my hip and the other came to cradle the other side, pulling me up to stand in the small pool of water as well. We stood chest to chest, his eyes glued to mine as everything else faded from my peripheral and I could only see him.

My own hands came up to rest on his chest. Pull away, I thought to myself. But it was too late. It was over for me the second he licked his lips and leant down to crash his own against mine.

And I was making the same mistake I made almost a year ago. The same mistake I made every time this happened. I was kissing my best friend without a care in the world for who saw or what it meant but I knew the second we pulled away that this feeling — the euphoria in my heart and the butterflies in my stomach — it would all fade away. It would all vanish and so would he.

So, I savored this moment because I knew, somewhere deep down I knew, that this, wouldn’t be happening for a while. And it would be because of me. Because even as I stood here — JJ’s tongue down my throat, my hands forming tight fists in his hair and his grip on my waist tightening by the second, I could hear the snapping of my heart strings in my ears and my brain yelling at me to stop whatever this was. To stop hurting myself by letting him hurt me time and time again.

I was the first to pull away, out of breath and head dipping down to stare at the small waves of water between us. I knew it was coming when his hands fell from my waist and he was stepping back. I didn’t even look up as I heard the water splashing, signaling he had exited the tub.

I just stood there — in the middle of the hot tub with swollen lips, the muscle memory of his touch on my hips, and hot tears brimming in my eyes at the realization that he was going to pretend like this never happened…again.

“I’m, uh- I’m getting kind of tired. Think I’m gonna head inside.” 

“JJ…” I spoke, voice shaking slightly as I still made no move to look at him. Hearing his feet pat against the concrete as he walked towards the sliding door.

“I’ll meet you inside-”

“When will you just admit it?” I snarled with a humorless laugh as I felt the first tear escape, trailing down my cheek. That was when I heard him stop in tracks, the atmosphere so silent that I could hear the drops of water that were falling from his body hit the ground.

So silent, I could hear the nervous gulp he took before speaking. “Admit what?”

That was when I found the courage to look up at him, my eyes red and one lone tear streak on my face. He was staring at me but his gaze didn’t reach my eyes and he was clutching his towel in his hand for dear life. “Don’t act like you don’t know. This whole cat-and-mouse game is getting really old, JJ, and it’s no fun when you don’t even know which role you’re playing.” I voiced my thoughts harshly and I stepped out of the hot tub, snatching my towel from the deck chair and moving past him to pull the sliding door open myself.

I didn’t look back as I made my way up the stairs, hearing him swear under his breath, to our shared room and into the bathroom to shower. By the time I got out, he was already in bed facing away from me. He probably showered elsewhere just to avoid brushing past me. I threw my clothes into the hamper and climbed in, facing away from him and letting my thoughts wander. Wander to how we got here in the first place…

“Heyy, gorgeous.” JJ slurred, beer in hand as he stumbled toward me. When his frame collided with mine, I could barely support him considering I was intoxicated myself. So I shimmied my shoulders to get him off of me.

We were standing by a tree, away from the core of the party, thrown by us at The Chateau, to celebrate our senior year. JJ and I leaned against the thick bark, both drunk and giggly.

“Why are you over here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Shouldn’t you be-” I took another sip from my red solo cup. “-with a touron or something.” I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye, I think. 

“I’d rather be over here with you.” He spoke dazingly, turning to view me from the side before I turned to look at him as well. “Y’know you look, like, really pretty tonight. ‘M not sure if that’s a weird thing to say.” 

I blushed and tried to nudge him, missing by a few inches and merely brushing his elbow. “Shut up.” I muttered.

“No. ‘M being so serious.” He chuckled. “I always think you look pretty.” He was staring at me like he’d never seen me before, this starry look in his eyes before he was leaning forward and smushing his lips against mine — the taste of alcohol and fruit lingering around in the kiss.

I don’t remember everything from that night, but I remember the kiss. And the next morning, when we all woke up scattered around the Chateau, JJ and I had agreed that it was a drunken kiss, a one-time thing.

And that would’ve been fine had it been true. But it wasn’t. It happened again. And again when we were sober. And again. And again. And somewhere down the line I had ended up falling in love with my best friend. And when I went to talk about it, he’d find any and every way to avoid it.

We’d run out of excuses. And I was ready to face that fact — the fact that we weren’t just friends.

But he wasn’t.

He still isn’t. And I don’t know if he ever will be.

A/N: Not gonna lie, this chapter overall was not my fav so far but the ending does something to me and I'm the one who wrote it😭

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©loveharlow

[cloudlessly-light]

Find me where the wild things are (5/5)

A/N: So this is the last chapter of this filthy little universe, thanks to everyone who’s read, commented and left little asks on Tumblr! And there are three new tags added so please read through those before reading!

Chapter Title – Mommy don’t know daddy’s getting hot Summary: Emily is just shy of 18 when she meets her mother’s new boyfriend, Aaron Hotchner. He’s 30 years older, he’s brooding, he’s kind of boring, he’s gorgeous. And she was screwed Word Count: 4,1k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, power dynamics, oral, dirty talk, daddy kink, daddy issues galore, overstimulation, sex toys, anal sex, anal play, orgasm control, breathplay/choking, cock warming

Emily thinks that her favorite thing about Aaron is the fact that he’s left-handed. Because that meant that when she sat in his lap and grinded on his cock, his right hand would be between her legs and rub slow, lazy circles over her clit while he could work write in his reports with the left. He could multi-task, that was her second favorite thing about him.

“Slow down.” He muttered against her ear, voice low and thick as he continued to read through papers Emily wasn’t paying any attention to even if she had wanted to.

“No.” She smirked, her hips rolling harder for emphasis and he makes a sound low in a throat, something between a growl and her name.

He put down the pen in his hand only to grab her hips with both hands, forcing her to still. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her over her shoulder.

“I told you to sit here until I’m finished, or would you rather get down on the floor and I’ll use you as a fucking footstool?”

That made her pause, a shiver tingling up her spine at the threat, knowing from experience that he would make good on his threat. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head.

“Sorry daddy.” She whispered and his eyes glinted like they always did when she called him that, his cock twitching inside of her. “I’ll stop.” She added and it was another moment of his heated stare on her before he let go of her hips.

“You are here for me baby girl, to make your daddy feel good while he’s working. Don’t forget that.” His words were breathed against her ear, making her head fall back against his shoulder as her eyes closed. She heard the scratch of pen against paper soon after, felt his rough fingers back between her legs and toying with her clit and she fought everything in her not to grind against them.

This was one of his favorite pastimes, to have her seated on his lap if he had to work from his home office in the evenings, to feel the way her slick walls clung to him, the feeling of her clenching as he slowly nudged her closer to the edge. To have the visual of her naked on top of him while he was still fully clothed, his cock sticking out through the fly of his pants.

She moaned softly and she heard his satisfied hum against the skin of her neck, his lips always close as he kept his eyes on the reports he had to finish before giving her the attention she deserved. It wasn’t long until the low moans falling from her became needier, her hips twitching in an effort to stay still.

“Shh, it’s okay sweet thing, just relax.” In any other situation his words would be soothing, but now they were nothing less than taunting and her fingers gripped the fabric of his pants to keep from moving.

“Please.” She gasped, the tension in her belly building steadily, but too slow, too much and somehow not enough. It was a special kind of torture, one that she despised and adored. His hand slowed even more between her legs, his fingers barely moving against her swollen clit and she whined.

“Not yet.” He said simply and closed the file he had just finished, only to pick up a new one. He noticed how Emily’s eyes lingered quickly on the remaining folders, that she was calculating how much longer it would take until he was done and he thrust sharply into her, making her cry out. Aaron knew that she found it boring as well as exciting, that sitting still was close to impossible for her especially when she had nothing else to focus on besides the feeling of him inside of her. He loved it, loved to feel her wetness drip down his shaft, knew that she’d stain his pants with her want for him and that thought made satisfaction stir inside of him. The strain on her face was obvious, her jaw clenched, breathing labored, body tense as she tried to delay the inevitable.

His fingers kept the same agonizingly slow roll against her as he focused on the file in front of him again. The feeling of her soft, warm body against his was intoxicating, the soft whimpers and moans music to his ears. Her walls were trembling around him, her orgasm building by each gentle rub against her and he groaned quietly at the feeling of her tightening.

“Daddy, fuck, please.” She finally begged again, on the brink of her release and he murmured softly.

“Do it.” He told her simply and she soaked his lap as she came with a strangled cry, her hips buckling into his hand and back on his cock as mumblings of thank you and daddy and filthy words fell from her lips until she stopped trembling and simply slumped in his lap, head falling back on his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He signed his initials on a piece of paper, barely sparing her a second glance, most of his focus still on work as he returned his hand to her clit, his thumb moving up and down against it with a little more pressure than before.

Emily gasped, eyes rolling back but she stayed put, kept her body still as he started to build up her pleasure again.

It was going to be a long night.

 *

 Aaron got the call from Elizabeth that she was coming home a few days earlier than planned while he was driving home from work. It’s a mix of emotions all at once, because in the midst of whatever this thing with Emily was, he had still missed his wife, had still twisted his wedding band as a reminder that this was something temporary. They had talked about it too, Emily confident that it would be easy to stop when it was time.

“I’ll be back at college anyways.” She would shrug and because he wanted to believe her, against his better judgement, he did.

“I’ll be landing on Thursday.” Elizabeth says just as he’s driving up the long driveway towards their home.

“I’ll try to be home, honey.” He promises but he knows that he doesn’t need to explain his ever-changing schedule to her. It was one of the things he loved about her.

“I know. But if you’re not that’s okay. And this way I get to spend the weekend with Emily before she leaves.”

“That’s good.” He’s thankful that his voice doesn’t waver, even as he swallows down a lump of unease. “I have to go, but we’ll speak tomorrow.” He parks the car and his eyes drift towards the house where he knew Emily was waiting for him.

“Sounds good, I love you.”

“Love you too.” He says and hangs up. His steps feel heavy as he makes his way towards the front door. He wasn’t in love with Emily, if anything his feelings towards her were carnal, filthy, but that didn’t mean that he was ready to stop yet.

“Emily?” He calls out but doesn’t get a response. With a sigh he makes his way upstairs and towards her bedroom. He didn’t bother knocking, finds her on her bed reading a book and wearing nothing but one of his shirts and he forces himself to swallow down a groan at the sight of her.

“Hey.” She smiles at him but it falls from her lips when she sees the look on his face. “You alright?”

“Yes.” He closes the door and walks across her room to sit on the edge of the bed, hand landing on her knee. “Your mother called, she’s coming back on Thursday.”

Emily simply looks at him for a moment, studying him as she tries to read him. When she finally does her shoulders fall slightly.

“Oh.” She put the book down beside her. “So, you want to stop?”

“I think that’s best.” He tells her and she nods. “Besides, you’re leaving for school next week, so it was about time we did.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She smiles again, this time small and reassuring. “Stop looking at me like you’re afraid I’ll break.” The tone is teasing and relaxed and it made him breathe a sigh of relief. “We both knew what this was.”

“And you think we can pretend that this summer didn’t happen?”

“That’s what we agreed on.” She leans a little closer to him and presses a soft kiss against his lips. “If mother wonders why we can suddenly say more than 10 words to each other, we’ll just say we had the chance to bond over the summer.”

The laugh he lets out at that is loud. They had both known that this would eventually end, he was just happy that it seemed to be easier than he thought.

 *

 It was not as easy as he had thought.

Elizabeth comes home and it only seems like that makes Emily want him more. She goes back to acting like she had before all of this started, goes back to flirting and leaving with innuendos and dirty smirks that her mother doesn’t catch on to.

Dinners feel awkward and forced, he was used to Elizabeth and Emily not getting along, so their passive aggressive comments and arguments felt like going back in time to before she moved away for college. But when they used to fight at dinner before Emily moved away, her foot most certainly never moved up his leg to gently graze his cock.

He sent her a warning look that she only seemed to relish in receiving as she told her mother off with another snappy comment. He wasn’t even aware of what they were arguing about this tone, his focus mostly on the way his foot moved over his groin.

“That’s enough, Emily!” Elizabeth huffs stands angrily, causing Aaron to look back at his wife. “You’re still acting like a child, I thought a year at college would have forced you to grow up a bit.”

“Trust me mother, I’m all grown up.”

Aaron doesn’t miss the way the corner of her lip tugs into a smirk but he has no time to comment on it before Elizabeth walks away, muttering about needing to finish up work.

“You need to stop.” He tells her once he’s sure his wife is way out of earshot.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her dark eyes glint with something menacing and Aaron has to keep himself from grabbing her hair and force her onto her knees before him.

“We said we’d stop, you can’t do this.” His voice is low, knuckles white as he grips his utensils tightly.

“We have one more day before I leave, I say, we make the most of it. One last time.” Emily pushes away from the table and stands up, the same dirty look in her eye. “What do you say…daddy?” She smirks when he lets out a breathy groan but Aaron remained sitting, forcing himself to calm and to not react more than he already had.

“No.” He says firmly and Emily lets out a giggle, the sound bordering on arrogant.

“Okay.” She shrugs and turns to walk out of the dining room too, leaving him with the sounds of her steps getting further and further away.

 It didn’t surprise her when her bedroom door creaked open in the middle of the night. She knew that he would come eventually, knew that he wouldn’t let her get away with acting the way she had for the last few days.

It’s 3am, it’s too late, too risky, but he hadn’t been able to sleep, his mind on Emily, his body tense with want for her. She grins when his eyes land on her, wordlessly pulls the cover off herself to show the impossibly small panties she’s wearing. The only thing she’s wearing.

“What are you waiting for?” She asks quietly and he doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast, not stopping until he’s towering over her. His grip on her jaw is tight as he holds her face and she hisses in discomfort.

“You want me to fuck you? You want to be my little slut while your mother is down the hall?” The words are spat in her face and he sees the effect they have on her immediately.

“Y-yes.” She breathes, her small hand on his wrist in a vain attempt to get him to loosen his hold on her.

“You’re going to have to be quiet.” He lets go of her only to pull off his t-shirt and then lays back on her bed. “Think you can manage that?”

Emily straddles him quickly, her touch warm as she leans over him to graze her lips against his.

“I’ll be quiet, I promise daddy.”

His lips on her are claiming and rough, his tongue pushing past her lips. He keeps her against him while they both work together to get his boxers off his hips.

“Get me hard.” He orders and she doesn’t waste any time kissing over his stubbled jaw, down his chest, until she’s between his legs. Aaron grabs a couple of pillows to prop himself up to watch her, his dark eyes heated when she looks back up at him.

Her tongue is wet and hot when she licks the length of him slowly, teasingly. She lets out a low sound of contentment at the taste of him, sucks the tip of him softly and his hips jerk. He reacts quickly as she slowly sucks him, lazily pumps the base of him, her eyes on his.

“You can do better than that.” He mutters and she feels her clit throb as she swallows more of him, takes him all the way down her throat and gags. She knew that he loved that sound, is proven right when his fingers tangle in her hair to guide her up and down, holds her against him for a few seconds as she tries swallowing around him before releasing her.

She pulls back with a gasp, spit on her lips and chin and cheeks flushed. Her hand moves inside her underwear and her fingers are met by wet heat as she starts to finger herself while continuing take him deep in her throat, the moan from her vibrating around him.  

“That’s it.” His voice is thick with tension as he continues to watch the way she sucks him, takes in the little whimpers and the way her eyes turn glassy as she gags willingly around his cock. He memorizes the way her tongue feels, how she looks as she fingers herself in front of him, her hips rocking into her own hand.

“Can I ride you?” She pulls off enough to breathe the words desperately, her hand wrapping around his shaft to pump him. When he nods and puts both hands under his head with a smirk she quickly pulls her underwear off to join his on the floor.

“Don’t think I won’t gag you if you’re too loud.” He mutters just as she sinks down on him, taking all of him in one go. “Now, ride me baby girl, while I enjoy the show.”

Emily starts by slowly rolling her hips, still needs a moment to get used to him. She leans back, plants her hands on his strong thighs as she starts to ride him, moving up and down with breathy moans that she tries to hold back but fails to do. But she had never been good at being quiet, especially not with him and she knew that if someone were to walk outside her bedroom, the sound coming from her would no doubt be heard.

“Fuck you feel good.” She groaned, head thrown back and eyes closed as she lifted her hips up and down, the muscles of her thighs tensing.

“It’s been minutes, and you’re already forgetting the one thing I told you.” He sighed and reached for her, his hand enclosing around her throat to tug her down closer to him. The look in her eye as she looked down at him was a mix of arousal and shame, her breathing hitching as he squeezed around her throat warningly. “Don’t stop.” He breathed against her face and her hips rocked harder into him, faster and faster as he kept his hand around her airway. He squeezed sporadically, saw the look of pure euphoria on her face as their breaths mingled together through pants.

“Daddy,” Her voice was barely audible, the word squeezed out as she jerked on his lap. “can I come?” She asked and his smile turned feral at how well he had trained her. Her hips buckled on his lap, one of her hands sneaking between their bodies to rub her clit while the other was wrapped around his wrist.

“Pathetic little thing, aren’t you.” He whispered and she whimpered in response, her body moving harder against his. “You want to be so good for me, so good for your daddy.” He squeezed hard around her throat and Emily’s eyes rolled back.

She squeezed around him, her slick walls tightening as she chased her release. She couldn’t speak, not with his hand pressing hard enough for her to go lightheaded but with him she had never needed many words. Her eyes found his, dazed and insistent and he nodded,

“Come.” He released her just as her body spasmed, his lips covering hers to muffle the moan he knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back.

Emily kissed him just as eagerly as she rode out her high, her body buzzing with adrenaline, high on him. When she came down her hips slowed until she only lazily rocked into him and the only sounds coming from her were soft mewls and heaving breaths.

“I really should just stuff your cute little panties in your mouth.” He muttered with a small grin before lifting her off him and quickly pushed her face down into the bed. He straddled the back of her thighs, let his cock rest between her ass cheeks for a moment as he massaged them. “Love your ass, baby girl.” He spread her cheeks and pushed back inside of her with a swift thrust and then spat on the hole above it.

“Please.” She pleaded before he had the chance to do anything else, her hips pushing up against him. He snickered lowly at her desperation but still complied and pushed his thumb into her ass. Emily buried her face into the bed, muffling the moans that threatened to spill as he pushed his cock and thumb in and out in tandem.

“Such a good girl.” Aaron leaned over her, his lips by her ear as he spoke. “Are you going to come again for me?” His hips snapped harder into her, knew that he was pushing against her spot from the way she was clinging to the sheets.

“Yes, yes I’m gonna come again.” She nodded, then turned her head enough for him to kiss her. She sighed into his mouth, barely held back the groan in her throat when he straightened behind her, fucking her hard and fast and deep enough that she knew that she’d feel him for days.

“Do it, prove how good you are for me.” He whispered through his own labored breathing, his body covered in sweat. He looked down at where she was splitting apart for him, her slick making his shaft shiny and he had to hold back his own growl. He could feel her clenching around his cock and thumb as he kept thrusting inside both her holes.

Emily was pretty sure that the scream that left her would have woken up the entire house if she hadn’t buried her face in the mattrass. Her body shook under his, the pleasure making her feel lightheaded as Aaron continued to fuck her through it, drawing it out for as long as possible. She barely had time to catch her breath before she felt him rolling her over, slipping out of her for a moment before he was between her legs, fucking her hard and deep again.

“Look at you, all fucked out already.” He muttered against her neck, his lips rough as he nipped at her skin.

Emily’s fingers dug into him, her nails close to stinging and he was quick to pin her wrists above her head.

“No marks.” He muttered and she nodded, thankful that he at least had the thought to remember that detail. His eyes were dark and wide as he looked down at her, lust and dominance reflected in them and she found herself staring up at him.

“Come inside of me.” She breathed and his hips jerked. “I want to feel you until the morning, want to drip with you at the breakfast table.”

“Fuck.” He hissed, his body reacting to her like it always did. “Dirty thing, want to leak with your daddy’s cum.”

“Yes, yes, please daddy.” Whatever else she was going to say was muffled, the hand not holding her wrists covering her mouth when she got too loud. He slowed his thrusts, rolled his hips against hers to make sure she felt every inch of him inside of her.

“First you’re going to come for me again.” He told her with a dark smirk, his hand moving her head for her so she was nodding.

She never really understood how he did it, how he made her fall over the edge over and over again like it was nothing. But it was only a few minutes later and her legs were wrapped around his waist, thighs trembling and her muffled moans turning needier.

“It’s like you want us to get caught.” He gasped, his own release getting close. “Like you want your mother to find you like this, fucked by your stepdad.”

It seemed to be last push and she came again with a breathy moan, her back arching into his chest as her body seemed to completely give in to him and the pleasure he caused. The spasming of her already tight walls around him was enough to push Aaron over the edge too. His own groan was muffled against her neck, his hips pressed flush against her as he grinded into her, making sure to come as deep as possible inside of her.

“Fuck, you pretty little thing, always makes me feel so good.” He mumbled against her sweaty skin. His hands turned gentle, his lips lingering against her jaw before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“I have to say.” She chuckled dryly, her chest heaving as she pushed some hair out of her face. “I’m going to miss this.”

“Me too.”

 *

 It had been quiet as she packed up the last of her things the next day. Aaron had helped her carry the bags down the stairs, had watched the tense goodbye between daughter and mother. He’s not surprised that Elizabeth disappears quickly after hugging her, a phone call with the embassy in Germany on hold and he shakes his head at his wife.

“It’s fine, Aaron. This is how it’s always been.” Emily smiles as she fiddles with her car key. “I- uhm, I had a good summer.”

“So did I.” He lets himself graze her upper arm quickly, reveled in the smoothness of her skin.

“No regrets?” She chuckles but he hears the slight strain in it and he’s quick to shake his head.

“Not one.” He promises, and it’s true. What had happened between them was no doubt wrong, but he didn’t regret it. When he meets her eye there’s a look of understanding in them and he smiles softly. He watched as she picked up her bag and flung it over her shoulder with a confident smirk, any trace of doubt gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“I think I’ve changed my mind.” She said as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest.

“About what?” He asked, genuinely curious because he knew that look in her eye.

“I said I would stay at uni for Christmas, but I think I’ve changed my mind.” Her smirk widened when he caught on, his own lips tugging up at the thought.

“Is that so?” His eyes swept over her when she pushed off from the doorframe and walked closer to him.

“I’ll be back for Christmas, Daddy.”

[pascalitaaa]

Happy Birthday --- EP. 1

Black reader in mind

CW: the chapters are not going to be the entire episode, i just though it sounded cool, soft Joel, profanity, angst, gore ( TLOU type shit ), nice and happy in the beginning, then just fucking depressing, i cried while writing this, eventual NSFW

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Mhmmmph,” you groaned, squirming in your boyfriend’s arms. 

Mindlessly, you patted your nightstand behind you, knocking over your earrings and a water bottle before remembering the alarm clock was on Joel’s side.

Fuck.

“Hon, the alarm,” you hummed, sleepily snuggling deeper into his chest.

He groaned, slamming his fist on the alarm and shutting it up, probably adding to the various dents the poor clock already had.

Without even opening his eyes, he threaded his arm back around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, a lazy smile playing on your lips.

“Good mornin’, baby. Happy birthday,” you yawned, placing a slow flurry of kisses on his jaw.

“Thank you,” Joel responded in a groggy rumble, him leaning down a little to grant you better access.

You take the opportunity to try and steal a kiss while he wass still sleepy, but an aggressive bang on the door snaps you out of it, and sobers up Joel instantly.

“(y/n)! We gotta make breakfast!” Sarah called from the other side, the sound of her running down the steps following soon after.

You follow through with the kiss anyway, cupping his cheek in your hand as you lean forward, him resting his hands on your waist to keep you sturdy.

“Shoot. It should be my birthday more often,” he cracked a smile, giving your hips a little squeeze.

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” you smirked, giving his ear a quick nip as you pulled away.

“After we’re done watchin’ movies with Sarah, I’m gettin’ Tommy to take her out and drive her around for a little bit. We’ll have the house all to ourselves.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” he smiled, giving you another kiss.

You were Joel’s wife of four years. Four wonderful and love-filled years.

And it all started in a doctor’s office.

You were a nurse and he had come into the clinic with a very bad and very large splinter in his hand.

A bit of flirting and a copay later, and the rest is history.

“Hopefully not. You still gotta get your present,” you cheesed, crawling off of him and standing up, giddily.

“Present? I told you not to get me nothin’,” Joel sighed, sitting up at the edge of the bed.

He made you promise, actually.

“I know, I know. But I remembered you talkin’ about how much you needed new work boots and saw them in the window and it just...happened,” you explained, pulling the brand new construction boots out from under the bed, holding them out for him to take.

He did, and examined them with a guilty look on his face. 

“Baby, these must’ve cost a fortune. I’ll...I’ll pay you back once I get this job done an--.” “Joel Miller, you will do no such thing,” you quickly and curtly dismissed, poking your finger into his chest.

“This is your birthday gift and you will accept it whether you want to or not. You work too hard not to get something nice every once and a while.”

The man in front of you stood up from the bed, stepping forward and giving you a feather-light kiss on he forehead.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled.

...

“Hey, (y/n)? Where’s the pancake mix?” Sarah asked, staring at the empty spot in the cabinet where the pancake mix usually stood.

“I think Joel was ‘sposed to get it,” you answer, finishing up on the eggs. “Don’t worry about it. We can make him pancakes another time.”

She sighed, walking over to the pan with the bacon on it and turning off the burner. 

“Then I think that’s everything,” she sighed.

“Perfect. Let’s start plating it up,” you smile, making Joel’s plate.

Sarah chuckled, taking a plate out the cabinet. “You make it sound like we’re a restaurant.”

“Shoot. Might as well be with how much we cook for these knuckleheads,” you joked, plopping some eggs and a few strips of bacon on a plate for Tommy.

“Who’s the knucklehead?” Joel asked as he came clomping down the steps, striding into the kitchen.

He threw an arm around your waist and pulled you close, placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“No one, hon. Happy birthday,” you smiled, turning and giving him a fat kiss on the lips.

“We were gonna make you birthday pancakes but we don’t have any pancake mix,” Sarah chimed, smoothly taking her plate and plopping herself down at the table.

“Shit. I was ‘sposed to--. I’ll get some on the way back,” he sighed, grabbing a the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug.

“Ah, ah. Nope,” you dismissed, taking the mug out his hand and exchanging it for a glass of orange juice. 

“Vitamin C. You need it if you’re gonna be working outside all day.”

Joel sighed, giving you a tired look before taking a swig of the juice.

You smiled and turned back to the stove, making your own plate now.

“You get your homework done?” Joel asked Sarah, discreetly switching the juice for coffee.

Sarah looked up from her plate with a deadpan.

“Fractions?”

She broke her serious face with a laugh, making the faintest trace of a smile draw at the corner of Joel’s lips.

“Go sit down and eat before you’re food gets cold,” you smiled, playfully shoving your husband towards his seat, one hand holding your plate.

The both of you walked over to the table and plopped down, Joel already starting to inhale his food.

“So, how old are you now?” Sarah asked, taking a sip of her juice.

“Thirty-six,” he answers.

“Gonna have to wear diapers soon,” she joked.

“Who says I don’t already?” 

He paused his eating when he felt a crunch in his mouth, and pulled out a good sized piece of eggshell.

“Shell,” he cocked a brow, turning to Sarah.

She always beats the eggs, so it had to be her doing.

“Calcium,” you came to her defense, pushing the egg through your teeth with a smile.

Just then, Tommy came sauntering through the door.

“Hey!” he walked over to Joel and gave him a rough pat on the back. “You’re still alive, you old fucker.”

“Aw. He loves you,” Sarah teased.

“He’s dependent on me. Not the same,” Joel corrected.

“Sounds the same.”

“It’s definitely the same,” Tommy chimed from the kitchen, looking through the cabinets.

“You’re plate’s in the microwave, Tommy,” you chirped, taking a bite of your bacon.

“I thought we were having pancakes,” he frowned.

“We’ll pick you something up on the road. Concrete guys gonna be there?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, they said maybe,” he shrugged, stuffing his face with egg.

“Maybe? We can’t frame until we pour. We’re not getting paid until we frame,” Joel furrowed his brow, his Joel Line, as you so lovingly call it, creasing between his eyebrows.

“Well, we could bring someone else on and get the job done faster,” Tommy suggested.

“No, no. I’m not splittin’ this job. I barely wanna split it with you,” Joel dismissed, scooping up the last bit of his eggs. “We could do a double.”

“Literally? Today?” Sarah sighed, defeated.

“I know. I’d be done by nine. By nine, right?” he assured, turning to Tommy.

“...Yeah,” his brother, unconvincingly, nodded.

“I’ll bring back a cake. I promise,” Joel added.

“I got a half day today so we can hang out ‘til they get back. I think I got enough cash so we can order takeout. Chinese?” you chimed as you stood up, taking yours and Joel’s now empty plates.

“Totally!” Her eyes lit up.

Joel turned to you, concerned.

“Hon, you don’t gotta do that. I know you still got some debt you gotta pay of with your school and I don’t want you to--.” You cut off him with a quick peck on the lips. 

“Relax. My debt can wait a day,” you smiled, walking over to place your dishes in the sink.

“...continued disturbances in Jakarta, but are advising U.S citizens--.” “Jakarta. Where is that? Middle East?” Joel interrupted the radio.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. It’s definitely a country. Or maybe part of Asia,” Tommy shrugged.

“Jakarta isn’t a country. Being part of Asia isn’t mutually exclusive with being a country, and in fact, it’s the capital of Indonesia,” Sarah corrected. 

All the adults looked at each other, pleasantly surprised.

“Hope for us yet,” you winked at her, finishing washing the dishes.

“All right,” Joel sighed, checking the time on his phone. “Finish up quick and we’ll drop you off.”

“I’m still eating my eggshells,” Sarah chimed.

“You got seven minutes,” he stayed firm, standing up and walking his empty coffee mug to the sink.

That’s when you noticed.

“Hon, your shirt’s inside out,” you snickered, tugging at the tag that was sticking out.

He looked down at himself and realized the same thing, his arms deflating in annoyance.

“Shit,” he hissed, walking towards the bathroom.

Tommy chuckled, turning to you and Sarah. “He’s losin’ it.”

“Alright, I gotta get my scrubs on for work,” you sighed, checking the time on your watch as you walked over to Sarah. 

“I’ll see you after school, alright?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded, mouth muffled with eggs.

“And here,” you added, discreetly handing her twenty dollars.

“Use that to get your dad something nice, alright? Don’t go too far and be careful.”

“I will,” she nodded, tucking the cash in her pocket.

"And don’t tell no one I gave you that,” you smiled, placing a quick peck on her cheek before running over to the stairs, nearly tripping trying to get up them.

...

“Jesus,” you sighed as you walked back into the house, plopping your purse on the coffee table.

Today had been beyond odd at the clinic.

Nearly every patient had come in with complaints about uncontrollable spasms. You asked each one what they had to eat in the last 48 hours, and every single one of them had at least one food that was flour based.

Even some of the doctors were being affected. 

A good friend of yours got into a huge altercation with one of the patients, her rage seemingly coming out of nowhere.

Maybe there’s ‘sposed to be a recall for something.

But you knew that wasn’t right. You had never seen anything like this before. 

Hell, when you left work, later than you were supposed to because of the sudden surge, there were still people pouring in with the same story.

You could feel it in your gut, like a heavy, sinking pit, that something was terribly wrong.

“Hey, (y/n),” Sarah smiled from the couch, closing her book.

“Hey, kiddo. Sorry I’m late. The clinic had to hold me back for a couple of patients,” you cheesed, walking over and giving her forehead a kiss.

You would have to save the thoughts for later.

“How was school?”

“Odd. There were a bunch of kids that kept twitching. And everyone was just kinda......out of it. Even some of the teachers,” she answered truthfully, placing her book down on the table.

“Yeah,” you nodded, peaking out the window curtain to see three fighter jets fly over the house.

“The same with me, too.”

Shit. That can’t be good.

The sound of the news in the background was making you even more anxious, so you quickly grabbed the remote and muted it.

Sarah turned to you with a surprised look, startled.

“Sorry. Guess I’m a little on edge. The stuff at the clinic’s got me jumpy,” you apologized, plopping down on the couch. 

“D’ya know where your dad is?” 

And almost on que, Joel walked through the door, him being home safe bringing a smile to your face.

Well....that and the thud of new construction boots being put to work.

“You locked the door for once. Good job,” he commended, tossing his keys into the bowl on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” Sarah looked down, deflated as she turned off the TV.

Joel plopped himself down between the two of you, laying his head back as he covered his eyes with a sigh.

“It’s 10,” Sarah reminded.

“I know. They gave us the wrong size for the headers,” he apologetically groaned.

Uncovering his eyes, he turned to both of you to see that you two of you were completely lost.

“That doesn’t mean anything to ya. I’m sorry.”

“Where’s the cake?” she added, Joel slumping at the mention of the word. 

“Shit,” he hissed.

“C’mon, man,” Sarah groaned.

“I’ll get you a cake tomorrow,” he assured, leaning down to take off his boots.

“Swear, or you don’t get your present,” she smirked, making Joel’s head perk up.

“You got me a present?”

“Swear.”

“On my life.”

With the promise, Sarah smiled, pulling out a silver box from under one of the couch pillows.

“Wow,” Joel approved as she handed it to him, giving it a quick once over before opening.

Inside was Joel’s watch, but it was ticking.

It had been broken for as long as you’ve known him.

“I got it fixed,” she said proudly.

“Did you?” Joel teased, holding it up to his ear.

“What? I could’ve sworn he--.” The second she heard the tick, she pushed him away, the man bursting into laughter.

“That was lame. You’re lame.”

“I know,” he smiled, fastening it around his wrist. “Where’d you get the money for this?”

“Drugs. I sell hardcore drugs,” she shrugged.

“’S better than what I do,” he scoffed.

“It was only $20, which (y/n) gave to me.”

“Sarah!” you whisper-yelled, dropping your face in your hands.

“Oops. My bad,” she went wide eyed, covering her mouth. 

Joel cocked his head over to you with a glare, like a parent scolding their child.

“Now before you get mad, technically she was the one who got the gift,” you smiled, putting your hands up in surrender.

“With the cash you gave her. I oughta take your wallet away right now,” he waved off.

“Never heard of someone taking a wallet to keep another fro spending money,” you playfully scoffed.

“Well you’re ‘bout to hear it today,” he smiled, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his lap, pretend patting you down.

“Jesus, Joel! That tickles!” you laughed, hating that your boyfriend knew all of your tickle spots.

“Wait, wait, wait! Before you guys get all lovey, I have one more present,” Sarah cheesed, digging behind the pillow again.

Joel turned to you, his scolding face back on.

“Don’t look at me,” you surrendered.

You didn’t know anything about this second present, and you didn’t give her any more cash than what you already did. 

Out from behind the cushion, she pulled a DVD of the movie Curtis and Viper 2.

“Aw, shit,” you groaned, slumping back into Joel’s chest.

“Oh, shit! This is the one with the deleted scenes,” he beamed, snatching the case from her to give it a good look.

Joel has made you watch that movie countless times, with deleted scenes and without. You knew the entire script like the back of your hand.

“C’mon. Pop it in while it’s still your birthday,” Sarah rushed, Joel standing up to put the movie in the DVD player.

“Sarah, I am gonna haunt you for this for the rest of your days,” you playfully glared, chucking a pillow at the girl.

“So dramatic,” Joel teased, plopping back down on the couch.

“You love it,” you smirked, giving him a kiss as you nuzzled into his chest.

“It’s starting,” Sarah shushed, the movie intro music playing.

Joel turned to you with a devilish smirk, leaning down so his mouth was right outside your ear.

“Don’t forget what you told me this morning,” he whispered huskily, making a tinge of blush appear on your cheeks and a shiver run down your spine.

“How could I forget?” you whispered back.

“Shhhhhh!” Sarah roughly hushed

...

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Joel hissed under his breath, hanging up his phone.

You and Sarah had fallen asleep on him while watching the movie, but now he seemed upset.

“Hmmm? Whasa matter?” you groggily asked, lifting your head from his chest as you rubbed the sleep out your eye.

“I gotta bail Tommy out again,” he sighed, carefully moving Sarah’s head off his leg, as not to wake her.

“You’re kidding,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Wish I was,” he grumbled, standing up and putting his boots on. 

“I’ll be right back. You think you can watch Sarah for me ‘til I do?”

“Of course,” you waved off, sitting up the right way against the couch.

Your mind suddenly transported you back to earlier today, with the crazed doctors, the spasming patients, the fighter jets. 

Shit.

“Just be careful for me. Please. Somethin’ hasn’t been right with today.”

Joel turned to you, his angry face softening.

“Of course, darlin’,” he assured, leaning down to give you a quick forehead kiss.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

You nodded, begrudgingly, and he grabbed his keys, quickly walking out the door and locking it behind.

Looking down, you noticed Sarah had curled into you in her sleep, her head resting on your lap now.

And you decided to do the same thing.

Maybe some shut-eye’ll get me right.

...

You were awoken, yet again, by a loud boom, and the sound of Mercy, the neighbor’s dog, barking.

Your head shot up quick as a whistle, and you could feel Sarah starting to stir as well.

What the fuck was that?!

The sound of a helicopter zoomed overhead, and another explosion boomed in the distance, both shaking the house violently.

“What was that?!” Sarah fearfully asked, quickly sitting up.

“I don’t know,” you answered, standing up from the couch. 

This couldn’t be good.

Explosions means bombs. And bombs mean shrapnel. And shrapnel in your kind of house means death.

We gotta get out of here now.

“Honey, you put on your shoes, okay? Your Converses,” you quickly ordered, speed walking over to the front door to throw on your Doc Martens.

They were the closest thing you had to combat boots.

“(y/n), where’s dad? What’s happening?” She panicked, following you to the shoe rack and starting to put on her purple Converses.

“You dad went to go bail your uncle out of jail,” you answered, looking down at your watch.

2:20

“They should’ve been back by now. But we gotta worry ‘bout ourselves for the time being, okay?”

She quickly nodded, and you grabbed your steel baseball bat from under the couch, gripping it tight as another helicopter whirred overhead.

Suddenly, Mercy banged on the sliding glass door, making Sarah scream.

You quickly turned, bat at the ready, only to see him simply scratching to get inside.

Sarah turned to the door, opening it and walking outside, much to your dismay.

“Sarah!” you exclaimed, running after her.

When you got out with her, a military grade helicopter flew overhead, it’s propellers almost deafening

“We gotta take Mercy back to the Adlers,” Sarah stated, the dog nuzzling between her legs.

You groaned, quickly weighing the options in your head.

The quicker we get the dog back, the quicker we get out of here.

“Fuck. Alright. We take him to the door, that’s it,” you rushed, pushing her by her back as she grabbed Mercy’s collar.

You only managed to make it two steps away from the door when the dog refused to get any closer.

“C’mon, boy. Go inside. It’s not safe out here,” Sarah pleaded, trying to pull the dog along.

But he whimpered and clawed at the ground, managing to wriggle his way out his collar and run off somewhere.

That’s when you noticed the noise.

It wasn’t a groaning or a moaning sound, but something hoarse. 

And pained.

And non-human.

You looked inside the doorway, only to see the silhouette of Nana Adler standing deep inside the house.

Standing.

“OH, SHIT!”

Just then, Joel’s truck pulled up on the curb, Joel and Tommy jumping out the car.

“YOU TWO, GET IN THE TRUCK! RIGHT NOW!” he shouted, panicked as he grabbed Sarah’s arm, a large monkey wrench in his other hand.

That’s when Nana Adler loudly hissed, running out the house like a bat out of hell.

Heading straight for you.

“What do we do Joel?!” Tommy demanded, aiming his sniper rifle.

Everything began to slow down, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t move a muscle.

You were frozen in fear, and the same thoughts kept running through your mind over and over.

Why was this happening? How was this happening? What in the actual fuck did that old woman turn into? 

Without hesitation, Joel hit Nana upside the head with his wrench, killing her with a sickening crack.

You watched, completely shocked, as your husband stood over the dead woman, bloody wrench in hand.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Tommy, get her in the car now!” he ordered, pointing to Sarah, who stood there glassy eyed, just as, if not more, shocked.

Tommy nodded and rushed his niece into the car, the poor girl still too traumatized to speak.

“(y/n), we have got to go now!” Joel hurried running over to you and cupping your face in his hands.

“Joel, what’s happening?” you asked, tearfully, your voice hoarse and broken.

“I don’t know, baby, but it’s not just the Adlers. You’ve gotta stay strong for me. We’re gonna get you and our girl out of this,” he pleaded, giving you a couple frantic kisses on the head.

Suddenly, the lampposts began to explode, and you could hear Sarah’s scream of fright from the car.

This was no time to negotiate.

You nodded and quickly wiped your nose, turning around and running straight for the car.

Practically diving into the backseat.

“Joel! (y/n)! What’s going on?” Denise, your neighbor from across the street asked, walking outside with a flashlight. 

She was a good friend, and you went over to her house often to chat.

“Denise, you get back inside the house! You lock your doors! Now!” Joel shouted.

“C’mon, c’mon, get in!” Tommy rushed, Joel quickly plopping himself in the passenger.

He slammed the door shut and Tommy took off, turning in the roundabout only to be met with Danny and Connie Adler running straight for the car.

“Put your seat belts on,” Tommy ordered as he rammed through the two, rolling over Connie with a disgusting thud.

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” Denise screamed.

You and Sarah turned around, watching Denise run to her aid before Danny jumped and attacked her.

“Denise!” you screamed, hand on the glass and tears in your eyes.

She had three kids. And a husband, too. 

All of which are inside her house, waiting to face the same fate.

“You take 70--.” “71, I know,” Joel and Tommy conversated in the front, trying to find the best way to get out of dodge.

“Daddy--.” “We don’t know,” Joel answered, already knowing what she was going to ask.

“They’re saying it’s a virus. Some kind of parasite,” Tommy chimed.

“There is no parasite or virus known to man that can do shit like that,” you dismissed, holding onto Sarah tightly, the girl doing the same thing.

“Is it from terrorists?” she asked.

“We don’t--.” Joel stopped himself, not wanting to sound angry at his daughter. 

He was just scared shitless.

He has to protect his family from some shit he doesn’t even know.

“We don’t know.”

“Are we sick?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Joel assured.

“Then why did things blow up?”

“No cellphone, no radio. Minute ago, newsman wouldn’t shut up,” Tommy hissed, clicking every radio station.

“How do you know?” Sarah chimed.

“What?”

“How do you know we’re not sick?”

“They’re saying it’s mostly people in the city. That’s why they got the highway blocked off,” Tommy answered, making the turn and driving past a house that was completely on fire.

“God. It’s Jimmy’s place.”

“The Adlers would take Nana into the city. To the hospital for stuff,” Sarah stated, looking down at the ground. 

“That’s right. They would. That’s probably why,” Joel agreed.

Up ahead, a man, a woman, and a baby, were stuck on the side of the road, trying to flag you down.

And Tommy started to slow.

“What’re you doing?” Joel turned to Tommy, eyebrows furrowed.

“They got a kid, Joel,” Tommy sighed.

“So do we. Keep driving,” he spat, Tommy begrudgingly picking up speed.

“We could put them in the back,” Sarah sadly suggested, watching out the window as they drove past, the man screaming for help.

“We don’t know if they’re infected or not, honey,” you sniffled, quickly wiping your nose.

This was going against your oath and everything you ever stood for.

But all that good samaritan shit went out the window the moment your family was put in danger. 

“Someone else’ll come along,” Joel assured.

You guys turned into the side entrance of the highway, only to see it bumper to bumper for as far as you could see.

“Shit! Everyone had the same fuckin’ idea,” Tommy hissed.

“Take the field. Cut across and pick up on the west side,” you said quickly.

“Across the field, got it,” Tommy nodded. “Hold on tight.”

He made a screeching turn, driving you four into the marshy field and cutting past the traffic.

And everything looked sweet for a moment, until the army could be spotted up ahead, blocking the other highway.

“Shit. It’s the fuckin’ army.”

“Isn’t that good?” Sarah asked.

“Good for them. They’re where we’re tryin’ to go,” you sighed.

“Just keep goin’. Head north,” Joel dismissed.

“Could be a lotta people,” Tommy winced.

“We can’t go south, we can’t go east, we can’t go west. Hell else are we ‘sposed ta go?” Joel asked sarcastically.

Just as they were talking out their escape route, an extremely low flying plane passed overhead, the sound of the engine practically making your ears bleed.

You quickly covered Sarah’s ears, not wanting her hearing to be affected, and Tommy drove you all into town, only to be cut off by the cops and forced down an alleyway.

People were screaming bloody murder, and running in all directions, frantically. 

“Alright, keep goin’, keep goin’. We can--SHIT, TOMMY!” Joel shouted, a car on your left nearly T-boning you.

You quickly pulled Sarah into you to brace the impact, but Tommy sped up just in time, turning onto Main Street.

People were fighting, running, being eaten, all right before your eyes.

“Don’t look, honey,” you held Sarah’s head, pulling her into your chest to shield her eyes. 

Suddenly, a horde of sick people burst from the movie theater, everyone screaming and running for their lives.

“TOMMY GO BACK!” you and Joel shouted.

Tommy threw the truck in reverse and began driving back the way you came, trying to avoid the sick in the middle of the road. 

You turned around to look out the window, only to see a plane heading straight for the ground.

“Joel!” you exclaimed, eyes going wide.

“Holy shit! Move! MOVE!” Joel shouted. 

“JOEL!” you screamed, clutching Sarah as tight as you could as the plane collided with the ground, causing a massive explosion and tipping over the truck.

...

You opened your eyes to an unspeakable pain in your left shoulder, turning to see the an incredibly large shard of glass lodged in it, your blood staining your blue scrubs red.

“AGGGGH!” you painfully groaned, desperately breathing yourself through it.

You turned to your right, only to see Sarah laying down on the ground, eyes wide and hyperventilating.

“Sarah, honey. I need you to stay calm and don’t move, okay?” you asked her calmly, using your good arm to rub her leg.

She turned her head to a man right outside the broken window, devouring a dead body.

“Don’t look, honey, okay? Look at me,” you smiled, continuing to rub her leg.

“(y/n). Shit. Baby, your shoulder,” Joel crawled over, about to help you.

“Joel Miller, don’t you dare help me. Get Sarah. Her ankle’s broken,” you ordered, noticing the bone bulging as you were rubbing her leg.

He nodded and grabbed her out first, you following behind by crawling, cutting your hands and arms on glass, metal, and everything in between.

By the time you stood up, your arms looked like tomatoes. 

And not in a good way.

You grabbed the glass in your shoulder, cutting your hand even more as you pulled it out, muffling your scream of pain on your lip.

“(y/n)! Shit! Are you alright?” Joel looked at you painfully.

“I’ll be fine,” you gulped, tearing off the flare of your pant leg and making a makeshift bandage for your shoulder.

“We gotta get off the street!” Tommy shouted from the other side of the car.

Suddenly, a cop car rammed into the truck, separating the three of you and Tommy.

“Tommy! Tommy! TOMMY!” Joel called for his brother, finding a break in the fire to see him on the other side.

“Head to the river! I’ll find a way! Get them outta here!” he answered back.

Joel nodded, fixing his grip on Sarah. “You keep your eyes on me, ya hear? Don’t look no where else.”

She nodded, and he turned to you. “Baby, stay close, okay?”

You nodded, too.

And with that, the three of you ran like hell down the alley.

Only to be met with a bunch of writhing sick people on the ground.

That is, until one perked up its head, its eyes trained on you three.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath.

Joel quickly turned around and you followed, the both of you running towards the door to a building.

He kicked it down and you sprinted through it, coming out the back room and into the dining area, where the sick man tried to jump on you, but missed and crashed into a cart.

Joel kicked open the front door, too, which led to the beach. But the sick man was still close behind. 

He was just a hair away from you went the sound of a gunshot rang through the air, bringing the growls and snarls to a stop.

You quickly turned around, looked down to see the sick man on the ground, dead as a doorknob.

Headshot.

You grabbed onto Joel’s shirt for dear life, shaking in fear.

You nearly died for the third time tonight.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe,” Joel panted.

“Don’t move!” a random soldier shouted, the light of his gun flashing in your eyes.

“My daughter’s hurt. Her ankle. My wife, too,” Joel stated, taking a small step forward.

“Stop right there!” the soldier shouted, holding his gun at the ready.

“Okay,” he nodded, freeing up one of his hands to push you behind him.

“Easy now. We’re not sick!”

The soldier lowered his weapon, grabbing the comm on his shoulder and holding it down. “I got three civilians by the river, two of ‘em injured.”

He paused for a moment.

“One’s an ankle and one looks to be a shoulder.”

“What about Uncle Tommy?” Sarah asked, breathless.

“We’re gonna get you somewhere safe first. Then we’ll go back for him, okay?” Joel assured.

“I’m sorry, repeat,” the soldier asked.

The silence was loud, and your heart beat faster than it already was when he raised his gun again.

“Yes, sir.” ... “Yes, sir.” 

“We’re not sick,” Joel said helplessly, confused.

The soldier got closer, and you gripped onto Joel tighter.

“Sir, we are not--!” The gunshots went off, and you and Sarah screamed as the three of you rolled down the grassy hill.

You cut your head on a rock you rolled over, and fell right on top of your shoulder.

“ARRGGGH!” you screamed in pain, shaking as you held your shoulder.

You vision was becoming blurry, and you could feel the hot sting of blood rolling down the side of your head.

But the sound of Sarah’s whimpers of pain cut through clearly.

SARAH!

You sat up quickly, sending a wave of pain through your head, and turned to see the girl not too far away from you.

You crawled over to her, the sound of the gunshot in the background being no never mind to you as you realized Sarah had been shot in the stomach.

“Oh, God! Sarah!” you wailed, tears beginning to pour as you saw her frightened state.

She was clutching her stomach for dear life, and hyperventilating like crazy.

“It’s okay, baby! Everything’s gonna be okay!” You cried, placing your hands on her wound to keep pressure, her freaking out and clutching onto you.

“Mommy!” she gasped in pure agony, her nails digging into your arm.

“I know, baby, I’m so sorry!” you hiccuped. “Oh, God, Joel!”

“No, no. No,” Joel repeated to himself frantically as he crawled over, kneeling down next to his bleeding daughter.

“Okay, you’re okay. Everything’s alright, baby,” he tried to say as calmly as he could, trying to pick her up.

But she practically screamed and tried to push his arms away.

“I know, baby. I know. But I gotta get you up, okay? I gotta get you up,” Joel kept repeated, hooking his arms under her again and carefully easing her up, much to her dismay.

Her breathing was becoming more erratic, and her attempts to stop him weaker and weaker.

“Honey, it’s gonna be okay! We’re gonna get you help. We’re gonna get you help,” you tried to assure her, tucking a tuft of her hair behind her ear.

“Tommy, help me!” Joel shouted, turning to his brother.

But Tommy didn’t move an inch, tears in his eyes.

“Joel,” he said sadly, barely below a whisper.

“C’mon, babygirl, I gotta get you up,” Joel repeated, trying to pick her up again.

But you realized she was limp.

She stopped struggling. She stopped breathing.

She just...stopped.

“No. No, no, no. SARAH!” you screamed, stroking her hair again to try and see if that would get her back.

But it didn’t.

She was gone.

You sobbed, falling into Joel’s shoulder as he rocked her back and forth, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You loved Sarah like a daughter, and considered her as such, too.

The love you had grown for her was something that held a large space in your heart.

And now she was gone.

Your partner in crime.

Your confidant.

Your best friend.

Your daughter.

Gone.

...

[pradnyesh1008]

Greetings, dear readers! 🎩

Firstly, my sincerest apologies for the radio silence on the forum and Tumblr. I’ve been as elusive as a cat on a hot tin roof, haven’t I? Well, fear not, I haven’t been abducted by mysterious figures from the bushes… yet.

Now, onto the meat and potatoes of this message. I’ve got some news that’s hotter than a jalapeño’s armpit. I’m reworking the game! Yes, you heard it right. What was once a book is now morphing into a glorious hybrid of a book and a game. 📖🎮

But let’s set some expectations here. While I’m adding new choices, there’s a limit to how many I can add. There will be times when there will be long walls of text when it’s required for the story. If this doesn’t suit your gaming style, I understand. There are plenty of fish in the sea, and there might be another game out there that’s more your speed. So, don’t waste your time on something that doesn’t bring you joy. Life’s too short for that, right? 🕹

However, for those who are intrigued by the changes, let’s dive deeper. The MC I’ve created is a good person who just wants to do the right thing. But you have the power to change it according to your will. You’re not born a villain or a hero, you become what you choose. If you walk the line between both, you won’t be regarded as either. You need to take steps in every choice to be what you want. But remember, one man’s hero is another man’s villain, and vice versa. 🎭

I’m also reworking the game because some major events already happened in the game which lacked proper context. So, I’m reworking the whole prologue and some parts of chapter 1. The siblings’ personalities will be highlighted in these scenarios, but they’ll remain as polite as they were to the MC. I’ll also add their details in the Allegiances and Alliances menu. 📜

As for the previous prologue and some scenarios of chapter 1, they’ll be added as side stories in the Chronicles menu. I’m also going to create a map of the world and the continent, and for the empires and the kingdoms. But they’ll have to wait. 🗺

Now, where am I at reworking? I’ve already completed the prologue (about 3.9k words) and almost the new scenario in chapter 1 (now 8.2k words). The new chapter (chapter 2) is 15k done but I’ll release it later. First, I’m going to complete this reworking phase. 🚧

Regarding RO’s, there’s a big announcement. The special RO’s are now gender-selectable! I’ve had so many requests about that on Tumblr, so here you go. 🌈

Now, a bit of personal news. It’s my freshman year in college. This means I won’t be as active as I used to be on the forum. But don’t worry, I’m not turning into a lazy author. I’m just juggling a few more balls in the air. 🎪

When am I going to release it? I don’t know yet. I’m working on it, and I want to be fully satisfied before releasing it. But I’ll try to drop something next month. For now, I’m going to post sneak peeks on my Tumblr account. If you’re interested and want to follow the game’s updates, then please follow me on Tumblr. 🐾

So, that’s all folks! Keep your eyes peeled for more updates. And remember, in this world [I mean TGT world], the early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese. 🧀

(I am going to reply ASAP to everyone please forgive me for not doing it early. There are so many I need to filter them first but don't worry every Ask will be answered here. I promise you on my honour.)

Stay awesome! 🚀