#and then after seeing their posts in the dark urge tag I was like damn now thats a love story how can I make their fates even WORSE

[esterigermaine]

You can all blame @animentality for this because their posts got me into durgetash (thank you!!!!!) and now I want to torture the villian couple. Probably won't make much sense because I drank enough caffeine to kill a horse today and my brain is going a million miles a second.

You know that scene where Orin shapeshifts into durge and tells them what she did to them? What if Gortash found out about it the same way and had Orin rub salt in the wound by then showing him the prayer for forgiveness?

She is cruel enough to do it and I can't think of any worse way to find out about what happened than for the attempted-murderer to shapeshift into their victim and describe what happened to them in explicit, gruesome detail. The attack itself, the tadpole, how they were abandoned to die alone like trash, how Gortash wasn't there to protect them, all of it. Only to show grieving Gortash the note

[residenthughes]

once bitten, twice shy

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 3.8k (yippee!)

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, mentions of vomit/sick and alcohol

summary: house parties can be a strange place. they can be even stranger when you're about to throw up and have to argue to use the bathroom with a certain blue eyed, blonde haired boy too.

notes: my baby! so glad to have finished this! <3 i started writing this pretty much after my last fic (which received so much love, thank you so so much 💗) and finally came together after i went out myself, hehe. have deadlines/exams coming up soon so i'm not particularly sure how much i'll be posting on here until mid june, so mayhaps consider this a gift for not posting then? 🥹 haha, love u all and hope u enjoy!

You enjoyed a good night out once in a while. Your friends and yourself dressed to the nines as you dance the night away with liquor tainted lips and all the freedom in the palm of your hand. It was a great escape from the pressures of endless coursework and constant group meetings. You enjoyed a good house party, too. However, you hadn’t had much luck with those ones. Despite the smaller crowd it drew, the handful of new faces had you anxiously gulping away at your alcohol, ultimately leading to cringe-worthy videos your friends would show you the next day. Based on this, you should have known better - should have politely declined when your friends suggested attending her classmates’ house party and spent the night maybe regretting it. In spite of the myriad of reasons, the past week had been dreadful beyond words and it was an opportunity to wear your latest going out outfit. It was near impossible to say no.

So, here you are. Having the time of your life with friends, dancing under blue flickering lights and letting the night take you away. Well - that’s what you were doing. What you are doing now is desperately trying to find the toilet - your stomach was already uneasy due to the nerves of meeting new people at the party, so you’re sure the sugary drinks added to the alcohol in your system didn’t help either. You felt queasy and an urgent need to relieve yourself, still to no avail. The downstairs bathroom was occupied, so with the sickly feeling travelling up your system, you barge through the mob of people littering the hallways, hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to keep whatever was coming up down.

At the end of the upstairs hallway, your friend’s classmate explained there was an additional bathroom. You’ve never been more relieved to see anything more in your life. Without knowing it, you’re making a mad dash for it, bumping shoulders and mumbling a thousand sorrys. You’re a sight for sore eyes, you know you are, but with the pressing urge to not have witnesses to your untimely projectile vomiting, you really couldn’t give a damn.

You’re so happy to have found the bathroom, even if it may have also been occupied that your eyes miss another figure aiming for the room too. It’s only when your hand reaches for the doorknob that it’s shielded by another hand. Large and comforting. Your eyes search for the source.

Amidst the darkness that permeates the hallways, the blue mood lights provide glimpses into the mystery of the shadowy figure with gentle hands. His face, ivory in colour, is all slopes, features sharp and striking. His cerulean blue eyes framed by the length of his long eyelashes and dirty blond hair makes your heart stutter messily in your chest. For a split second, there is nothing you can do but stare in awe, the tall tales of infatuation spinning your head dizzy.

“Shit, did you wanna go first?” His voice sounds like a siren, sweet and melodic all at once.

With the countless thoughts zooming through your brain, you’re certain any words that would filter through your lips would be nothing except incoherent mumbles. You settle for a nod.

“Uh, hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I needa go too.” His hand is still over yours and if not for the terrible rumble in your stomach, it would have been swept off your feet, along with the sickeningly sweet pet name he gives you.

“Maybe try downstairs? I’m sure it’ll be free soon.” This is the first time you’ve spoken during your brief conversation. The quick raise of the handsome stranger’s eyebrows encourages sheepishness to gnaw at your skin, the pink hues of your cheeks deepening.

“Ocupado, ‘m afraid.” he grins with a sliver of teeth, facial expression moulding into the awkwardness that starts to circle itself around the two of you.

Your hand turns the doorknob faintly and you catch the desperation that flashes in his eyes at your actions. If you weren’t about to soil your new top with stomach acid, you would’ve let him go first, bashful as ever as you hoped you would find him later on in the night whilst hoping he’d spare you another glance. Nevertheless, that was not the case.

“I’m sorry but,” you gulp, trying to keep whatever was coming up back down. “I really, really, really need to go, so…”

He’s stubborn. Stubborn as an ass apparently, because his hand still remains on yours. “Of course, but equally, I need to go as well. Surely, there’s like a sink or something I can go in. I’m really desperate.”

You can’t help as you wrinkle your nose, your patience wearing thin. You literally have to be sick. Why is this not being addressed? “Can’t you just pee outside? Guys do that all the time, don’t they?”

“I’m not an animal, you know.” the handsome stranger argues, and your eye twitches.

How did you end up arguing with a good-looking guy outside a bathroom at a house party?

“I’m not being funny, but if you don’t move, I will throw up all over you.”

“I’ve been meaning to go for an hour now. Can’t we make some sort of compromise?”

You were at your wits end. “As if, you fucking masochist! I’m going first!”

And you do, barging into the blindingly white room with all your might and making a beeline for the toilet. A heavy sigh sounds behind you as you heave into the toilet, bracing yourself for the ugly sight that’ll swim before you.

You hear a zip being undone and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Surely, you’re not…?”

“I told you I needed to go.” the voice comes from the shower beside you. The world spins. House parties fucking suck.

You opt to fully exit your bitter discussion, focusing on ugly turns in your stomach. Your hair circles your face and you curse yourself for not having tied it up beforehand because obviously, it was going to–

It flows out of you. Swiftly and without much difficulty. You lunge forwards into the toilet bowl as the vomit empties out of you whilst the shower runs briefly, followed by the sink.

You just wanna go home.

“Hey,” the call for your attention is docile, the boy’s voice more sympathetic now. “You got a hair tie on ya?”

At this point, you’re on your knees, throwing up your early dinner in front of a boy you bad mouthed because you both wanted to use the bathroom at the same time. There’s no point in being shy now. You want all the help you can get.

You manage to shimmy the hair tie off your wrist and hand it towards his vague direction. For how unacquainted you two are, you move in great harmony as the boy grabs the hair tie and captures all your hair with ease whilst you busy yourself with other pressing issues.

When he’s finished, hair away from your face and in a low ponytail, the warmth of his hand settles against your back. The tears brimming in your eyes fall into the toilet bowl, body still before slow caresses have you melting into the palm of his hand.

“I…I know one of the guys that lives here,” he volunteers, tone unsure. “I’m sure he won’t mind you using one of his spare toothbrushes underneath the sink.”

You only manage back a groan, the icky feeling of humiliation creeping up on you as you continue to exhale into the toilet bowl.

“I’ll be back.”

And the man who peed in the shower leaves. Ok, that was rude of you, he did just help you when you were vomiting in spite of not knowing you. You should have more compassion for him, instead of lashing out at him out of embarrassment. When he gets back, you should thank him for all his help and hope to never see him again. You didn’t think you could live comfortably with yourself if you ever saw him again.

The faint thumps of typical party hits hammer beyond the bathroom, pouring in briefly when the man comes back into the room. By this point, your stomach has settled and you’ve flushed the toilet, yet your head still remains somewhat in the toilet because you couldn’t bear to come face-to-face with the guilt wrapped up in the form of a handsome, kind stranger.

“He said it’s cool, just open the new pack in the grey caddy.” You hear joints crack besides you before there’s a pat on your back. The comfort it brings is enough for you to swallow your pride. “Also, there’s some water next to you. Figured you wouldn’t want to go looking for it.”

Regardless of the ever growing shame that wants to drown you into a sad shell of yourself, your heart swells. The unprompted kindness offered from the stranger is refreshing, you wish you could tell him how grateful you are for him without your shame keeping your head in the toilet bowl.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, wincing at the cringing sensations that course through your body. “Sorry for calling you a masochist earlier.”

He huffs out a bout of laughter and your heart feels lighter. “In all fairness, I was pretty crazy for holding it for that long, so I don’t blame you.”

You hated how you’d have to avoid this man after you two left this room. He was sweet, polite and made you laugh. Why did you have to meet under such ugly conditions?

“Thank you,” you exhale, feeling your heart bloom with the warmth he radiates. “Really.”

“No prob,” he lifts his hand off your back and suddenly, you’re cold again. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. If not, probably fucking it up on the dancefloor.”

You mumble another thank you after the laughter that leaves your lips, the blue-eyed stranger exiting and leaving you to clean yourself up as ponder on his kindness for a little longer than necessary.

-

You manage to sneak past the kitchen without bumping into the kind stranger. If you weren’t embarrassed before, the embarrassment catches up with you now. Outside, where the cool October wind blows, you’re perched on a step of the back porch, curled into yourself as you breathe in and breathe out. Things could have been a lot worse. You could have thrown up all yourself, delirious and none the wiser as nasty spirited individuals videoed the spectacle, not intervening even once. You could have been in a worse state in front of the stranger, vomit embedded in your hair as you wailed to call your friends or to go home. It could have been so much worse, yet here you are, rocking away as you will yourself not to cry.

You blame it on the emotional turmoil that’s plagued your week. Your academic and interpersonal affairs bore a burden like never before, pushing you beyond your means countless times this week and eventually, as you self soothe in solitude, you succumb to their will. Your friends are worried sick, searching every inch of the unfathomably large house to find you. You shoot them a text, notifying them of your safety and the privacy you seek. With dozens of texts that express reassurance, you let out a sigh before the music playing inside is too good for you to ignore.

Call it foolish, but it’s the nostalgic sounds of 00s’ dance that help you pick up the pieces. Assist in the carefree attitude you adopt that leads you right back inside, finding your friends and changing the course of the night.

If only you knew your carefree attitude would have you right where you once were. Face to face with the handsome stranger, the ends of an empty beer bottle pointed towards you two as bystanders ooh and ahh.

“Get in there, Leon!” a friend - you assume - hollers, slurring his words as he lazily drapes against Leon’s rigid frame.

You two exchange a look, eyes seeking any kind of communication that would hint at what the future held.

Your hand is given a squeeze and suddenly one of your friend’s whispers into your ear. “He’s cute, go for it.”

You crimson. At her words and at the fact that your next encounter with Leon has come so soon. Relentless is the sensation of dread and cringe as it sinks into your bones and buries you into the ground. All eyes are on you and you want nothing more but cringe? Disappear? Run away? There’s so much going on in your head right now.

A hand is outreached. It’s as if a lifeforce beyond yours comes down to save you, extending their hand to sail you away to safety. Alias, it is nothing but a figment of your imagination as you peer up, eyes sparkling as Leon’s tall figure towers over yours. For a second, you can’t read his facial expression, can’t comprehend the logistics of your predicament. However, when the edge of his lips curl upwards, pleasant and mellow in nature, there’s a sense of relief that starts to wash over you.

“Ready if you are.”

He has a way with words. He must have. Otherwise you wouldn’t have felt so comforted on that bathroom floor, otherwise you wouldn’t be in some confined closet, little to no light with the same person you threw up in front of.

“Well,” he starts off after a minute or two of silence. “This is…”

“Awkward.”

A cough is followed by silence. Then laughter.

Out of all the people at this party, the universe had to fabricate yet another meeting with Leon. The guy who you basically cussed out in order to use the bathroom. The same man that after washing his hands, held your hair up for you and soothed your sickness with a gentle back rub. There is nothing more you want to do right now than crawl out of your skin.

“You feeling a bit better now?” Leon’s voice is hushed when he talks to you, gentle and filled with unexpected care.

Despite the awkwardness of your situation, you can’t help disregarding such lame state of feeling as you lean into his kindness. “Yeah, I had a bit more water and was outside for a bit, so I’m pretty much sober now.”

Your fingernails dig into the flesh of your palm. A nervous tic. “Thank you. And, sorry.”

Leon appears to relax into the flow of conversation, moving his body to lean against the wall of the compact closet you find yourselves in. As he shuffles, notes of smoky vanilla waft in the air, Leon’s cologne finding its way to you. The smile you hide behind a closed fist is all kinds of bashful, body drawn to the intoxicating nature of the fragrance.

“I wasn’t terribly nice to you either, so think of it as making amends,” his hand extends forwards, bridging the gap between the two of you. “Truce?”

Amusement tugs at the ends of your lips, humoured by the hints of unseriousness that seems to be a recurring theme in your story. Going from badmouthing one another to being shoved into a tiny closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven and forced to call truce. It’s the kind of bizarre story that hangs in the air after a night out, disgustingly hungover in bed as your friends jam into someone’s room and recall the night’s events.

“Truce.”

You shake on it, pulling away when the flutter of your heart tickles your chest.

Through the dim sliver of marmalade orange light that peeks through the bottom gap of the door, you catch glimpses of Leon. The sharp slants of his jaw, the heavy flutter of his eyelashes, the sheepishness of his smile - all lopsided and accompanied the hues of strawberry jam red. He’s trying his best and it’s endearing. As is he. Charming and caring, a little silly yet undeniably sweet. Perhaps your perspective on him is a bit skewed due to the remnants of alcohol that float in your system, but if you happened across the same dirty blond, blue eyed boy on campus, you know your heart would still beat the same.

“Three minutes!” Someone yells beyond the door, prompting an uptake in your breath.

Never too forward, Leon draws closer to you, hands to himself as he suggests, “We could just head back out, if you’d like. I’m sure they’re not gonna be too up their asses about it.”

You don’t miss a beat. “I don’t want to.”

You’re both caught off guard. Your eyes widened and Leon’s eyebrow raised. It’s as if you’ve been exposed, barenaked for all the world to see your secrets. In itself, your response isn’t the strangest. Anyone would assume after calling truce, your allocated time meant to be spent together could foster the beginnings of a friendship, a friendly conversation. Even so, Leon and yourself were getting ahead of yourselves - reading in between the lines, sifting for something that was there.

“I mean,” the wardrobe is suddenly indescribably small, the surface of your cheeks warming as your eyes dart all over the place. What is going on here? “We could always just talk or…”

“Or what?”

Leon’s being mean. He knows he is. But, he can’t help himself. Jumping the gun, clawing at any and every opportunity to be close to you. Leon spotted your figure earlier during the course of the night, eyes capturing the shimmer in your eyes and bounce of your hair as you happily twirled your friends around on the dancefloor. You were simply magnetic, doused in dazzle and delight as your glittery makeup highlighted your timeless beauty. Leon would’ve approached you, winning you over with his charm and foolish dance moves - but he needed a drink. A drink which became two, two which became three and ultimately he broke the seal, landing him on a collision course with you outside the bathroom.

This isn’t how he imagined meeting you.

Nevertheless, you were together and despite the not-so-great circumstances presented, Leon made the best of it. Helping you and being the gentleman he is. And even if you never saw each other again, he would still remember you for all the shimmer in your eyes and just how infectious your smile was.

Now, under more favourable conditions, he doesn’t want his time with you to end. You’re just as captivating up close, if not more. Timid yet so sweet. Leon gets lost in you - lost in the details of your hair, your voice, your eyes. He wonders if the longer he prolongs your conversation, the sooner you’ll see his attraction towards you. Hopes you’ll reciprocate, hopes you’ll see it too.

“I don’t know.” You settle for, casting your eyes away from Leon as you twiddle your thumbs.

You want to be close with Leon, maybe kiss him if you could. But, you just don’t know. He’s seen you at your worst, sick in the toilet without a thought behind your eyes. You’re still embarrassed - even if Leon makes good work of fending that off. And perhaps because of that, along with other complexities, you want to be close with him.

If only he’d let you.

There’s a huff of frustration before something knocks your shoe. You look, examining Leon’s tired Converse shoe that nestles against your own pair of shoes. Your heart stills.

“I saw you earlier,” he starts, standing tall as he inches closer towards you. His pools of blue know only the sight of your lips, pink in hue and supple with lipgloss. He briefly looks away for his own good. “You looked really good on the dance floor.”

The gravity of your current reality settles in quick. Leon’s with you. Initiating everything and bringing this whole charade to a close. Your instinct is to wrestle with the reasons why, question his intentions and ultimately, take a step back. But, you’re exhausted. You’ve done enough mental gymnastics to last you a lifetime. You know you want this, so why can’t you have it? The answer is clear now. You take the plunge, hands grasping onto his backarm as you test the waters. “You think so?”

You’re gazing into each other’s eyes now, nowhere to run or hide. Leon hums in response yet still searches for something in your eyes - a glimmer of hope, confirmation to proceed and gets it in the form of you leaning into him with the bat of your eyelashes. His arms circle your waist, hesitant at first but solid in their place on the small of your back. You’re already seeing stars.

“Leon?” your voice is barely above a whisper, forehead pressed against Leon’s as you grow impatient.

He hums in reply. “Can we? Can we-”

“Can we kiss?” he says this, lips brushing up against yours. You grip his broad shoulder extra hard incase you buckle at the knees.

“Please,” you only manage to get out before your lips connect.

Leon shows you just how much he wants this, how much he wants you in his kisses. Gentle yet firm in his desire, his lips envelope yours in a way that sets your heart ablaze. Your brain short circuits, the sparks soaring between the two of you insatiable as you melt into each other. Your hand falls to brace yourself against Leon’s chest, the accelerated patter of his heart vibrating against your palm. You can’t help the smile that blends into your kiss, opening an invitation for Leon’s tongue that glides against the flesh of your bottom lip.

“Time’s up!”

His teeth plunge into your bottom lip lightly. You separate with a whine.

There’s a moment before the door opens, time where your eyes scan over Leon to gather all your thoughts and take him in. His pupils are full blown, his arctic blue irises submerged in the dilation of his pupils, lips plump with need and breath laboured. He looks far away, as if he is immersed in a dream that’s too good to be true and judging by the smile that graces his face, you’re sure you look the same.

“Need a mint?” Leon’s all jokes, smile giddy and besotted.

You roll your eyes in response, playfully jabbing his hard bicep with a closed fist. “Says the one who stuck his tongue down my throat.”

“Guilty as charged,” he holds his hands up in surrender, eyes giving you their undivided attention. “Wouldn’t mind doing that again though.”

He punctuates his point with circling his arm around your waist, drawing you in close before placing a delicate kiss against the flushed skin of your cheeks. It’s shameful how much you like this guy already.

“You’re disgusting.”

The door opens and you leave the closet happier than you ever were before.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Duck, Duck, Pitbull

Joel Miller x Winchester!Reader

Summary: You and your brothers picked up two hitch hikers near your compound in Jackson. This follows the important scenes between a Miller and a Winchester.

Word Count: 11k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, i do an abrupt pov shift once, SPN x The Last of Us crossover, age gap ≥10 years, big bro!Winchesters, mentions/depictions of violence, smut (hair pulling, dom/sub dynamic?, vaginal penetration, praise kink, rough sex), mentions/depictions of pregnancy/miscarriage symptoms, slow burn, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: the smut is after the 👹, so you can skip it but i still think MINORS DNI honestly i wanted to just add a brother named dean but then i was like ah what the hell let's put THE Dean™ so i did lol. rekindling the superwholock girlie though i never made it too far in supernatural. Tbh it doesn't warp the plot too much though. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @igotanidea @multifandom-fangirl4 have since cross posted on ao3

The sound of a gun's safety being unhinged was what made Joel freeze. He clenches his jaw and feels something poke the back of his head, undoubtedly a gun.

"Hands up," a deep voice calls behind him, "turn around. Slowly."

Joel thinks of Ellie as he raises his hands. Told that damned kid not to wander far. He sighs and hears the sound of his boots crunch the icy snow, melted by the entrance of this abandoned shed.

When he turns around, he sees four people, one of them was holding the gun to his face, and two of them had a hand on Ellie's shoulder.

The woman behind Ellie grins, "I told you he was hot."

Ellie and the man beside her makes a disgusted face and sound.

"Shut up," the man holding a gun to Joel's face barks to his side. He turns back to Joel and sighs, "I'm going to ask you questions, and if your response matches with the information your little girl gave us, we're not going to have any problems."

"And what if they don't," Joel quips back, eyes dark, lips pursed tightly.

"Well, then I assume one of you is lying to me, and that means you can't be trusted," he quips back.

Joel's eyes dart to Ellie.

"Hey, hey, look at me," the man blocks his vision, "what's your name?"

He huffs, "Joel."

"What's her name?"

"Ellie."

"Where are you two going?"

"North."

"Why?"

"I'm looking for my brother."

"What's your brother's name?"

Joel clenches his jaw, "Tommy."

"Is she your daughter?"

"No."

"Who is she then?"

Joel presses his lips together.

"Dean, that's enough," the woman cuts in.

"Don't interrupt me, kid," Dean barks back. He motions with his gun, "well, who is she."

"Cargo," Joel mutters.

Dean tilts his head and purses his lips. He drops his gun and puts it away, "what's your last name?"

Joel hesitates as he watches the two people with Ellie take their hands off her, the woman urging her to walk over to Joel. Ellie does so in a manner that seems somehow reluctant. Only when Joel has his hand on Ellie's arm does he reply to the man that was walking over to the others, "Miller."

Dean makes a fist and grunts victoriously. He turns to the man, "I fucking told you he's Joel Miller."

The taller of the three rolls his eyes and pulls out something from the back of his pocket and gives it to Dean. Joel's attention is averted when the woman pushes past between the two and waves at him, introducing herself with a soft smile. She points her thumb to one side, "this is my brother Dean," then the other, "and Sam. We're the Winchesters."

Joel furrows his brows, almost tempted to say he didn't give a fuck.

Her smile brightens, "just throwing that out there since we know your first and last names and all."

"Also, we know where your brother is," Sam says.

Dean casually walks off. Sam watches as he does so then turns back to his sister. She turns to him then to Joel, "wanna come with us? It would be stupid not to really, since we'll wind up at the same place anyway."

Sam gives Joel and Ellie a look before following after his brother.

Ellie turns to Joel and nudges him. Joel looks down at her, then back to the woman, "describe Tommy to me."

A loud voice calls out her name.

She huffs, "uh... lemme see. Dark hair, tanned skin, uh, uh--

The call is repeated, but much angrier this time.

"No time. But- oh- he does have a mustache like yours!" She waves her hands, "I really can't wait any longer. What do you say?"

Ellie nudges Joel sharper this time.

Joel grunts at the contact.

She sighs and turns to Ellie, saying goodbye when her name is called out like a battle cry, running off for her brothers.

"DUDE!" Ellie barks, turning to Joel.

Joel sighs, shaking his head, "wait!"

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

"Huh," I scoff, leaning at the side of the car, "I never thought I'd have my brother as competition." I smile to myself as I look past the open hood to see none other than a focused Joel, hands covered in motor oil, towel over his shoulder, brows furrowed with purpose.

He ignores me as I continue my teasing, "when did you and him become besties?"

"I'm just helping him with his car."

I roll my eyes as I walk back and eye the obsolete Impala my eldest brother was hellbent on reviving. I cross my arms and chuckle as I watch Joel dig his hands, armed with a hefty tool, deeper into the engine, lips curling at the action, "you do know Baby is off limits. He doesn't want anyone touching her, much less fixing her."

Joel eyes me before turning back to his work, "you seem affectionate over it too."

I laugh and shake my head. I shrug, "well I mean, it was our dad's." I walk near him, rubbing the outside of the car Dean spent tireless nights to achieve its sheen, "he passed before the world turned to fungus, so it was special then, and twice as special now." I put my hands behind my back, "reminds all of us of a time when things were..." I drag out and hum.

"Normal." Joel finishes for me.

"Less fungus-y," I correct, "my family's never been normal."

He grunts as he struggles against whatever he was doing.

"Plus, it keeps Dean sane. S'much as he can be."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about him getting bored," he sighs, propping the wrench back on the wheeled toolbox, and grabs his towel, wiping his hands on it. Joel turns to me, "he's got his work cut out for him."

I lick my lips and nibble at it as I smile at the gruff cutie. Joel turns back to Baby and sniffles.

"Tell me, cowboy," I tilt my head as shove my hands in my back pockets, "if you're not besties with my brother, then why are you helping him?"

He finishes wiping his hands when he turns back and says, "he promised me pie."

I pull my head back before I break into a loud cackle. I throw my head back and grip my ribs, "you say that," I sigh, leaning into him, grabbing his arm, "as if that's helping your case."

Joel eyes me as I catch my breath, "you do know that I baked the pie with him cause he," I raise a finger, "AND I QUOTE 'wants to prove to Miller that Winchester's pie is where it's at'. You do know that means you and him have been taking about pie, right? No one just talks about pie."

"What? Am I incapable of small talk?" Joel counters.

My eyes go wide, "yes! Why would either of you even atte-" I grunt, cutting myself off to prove a point. I purse my lips as I place my hands on my hips, "DEEEAN!"

Joel throws his towel back over his shoulder.

I tap my foot as I wait for a response. I get none.

I scream out again anyway, "JOEL SAID THAT HE CAN'T STAY FOR PIE CAUSE SOMETHING CAME UP."

Immediately there is a bustle behind the screen door to the garage, "aw, what?"

Joel and I turn to Dean as he comes out with two plates of pie with a grin. He hands one of them to Joel as he makes a face, "come on, man. You can stay for a slice."

I watch as Joel is urged with the plate. I hold back a laugh as I do so, then mask it by clearing my throat and getting the other plate from Dean. Immediately, he clicks his tongue and raises the plate over his head, scowling at me, "nuh-uh, this is mine," he motions to the door, "get your own plate."

I roll my eyes as grab the one meant for his bestie before Joel can. Dean hisses when I do so and I rush behind Joel as I take a bite. I swirl my fork in the whipped cream he added in the serving, "damn, Dean. Joel is mine. Stop trying to seduce him."

Dean gives me a face.

I lick my lips and push Joel from behind, "he has to wash his hands anyway. Can't let my man get poisoned."

Joel repels my push slightly, so I roll my eyes and grab his arm, dragging him inside. He eventually relents against my strength, tired to fight back at this point I think.

"He's not your plaything, assbutt!" Dean growls, as he follows us.

"Unfortunately," I mutter, turning over my shoulder, smirking at Joel before whispering, "but I'm trying to be."

I stop in my tracks before we reach the kitchen as someone calls my name. I turn and see it's Sam, holding a paper bag of what I assumed to be produce.

He eyes Joel hotly as he mutters out, "Miller."

Joel sucks in a breath and nods, "Winchester."

Sam begins to eye my grip on Joel. The latter then instinctively pulls me off. I give him a pout for it and eye Sam in retrebution.

Dean, at this point, walks in and notices the sasquatch, "oh, hey, Sammy," he stuffs a bite of pie in his face, "put that down over there."

I huff and turn to Joel, giving him a smile, "I'll get you a slice, go wash your hands."

I walk off, past Sam, who was still eyeing Joel, and grab a plate and fork to get a slice of pie, "you want one, Samsquash?"

"No," Sam blurts, eyes still on Joel, "I gotta get back," he pulls his head back and finally moves to set the paper bag down, "Eileen's making stew. Can't stay long."

I perk up at the sound of that, "oooh, is that what she's taking to the potlock?"

Sam smiles at me, "yep. What a' you bringing? Pie?"

Dean takes the plate of pie I sliced up for Joel and hands it to him himself. Joel, who was wiping his hands on the towel hung by the fridge, says a soft thanks.

I eye Dean but then turn to Joel with a smile.

The former points to the latter, "yeah. I couldn't stand the fact Joel said that lady Donna's pecan pie was the best he'd had in a long time."

Sam rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as Joel walks over to me, leaning on the counter same as I. Sam mumbles, "not everyone has access to pie in the apocalypse, Dean."

Sam then turns to Dean with an annoyed look as the eldest Winchester points a finger, "well, he lives here now, and in these parts, there's a hierarchy." He snaps his fingers and points at Joel, who I had been watching the entire time as he began to eat.

I give an expectant look, "good right?"

Joel turns to me, sighing as he takes another munch. He speaks with a full mouth, "really good."

I chuckle as Dean claps his hands before stretching it out, "and at the top: Winchester Apple Pie."

I snort as I turn to Dean.

Sam shakes his head as he withholds a grin, "right."

Dean glares at Sam, waving his hands, "I'm always right. Your point?"

"I'm leaving," Sam nods. He turns to me, ruffling up my hair, "later, kid."

I exaggeratedly grunt and shove him off, "later, loser."

Sam's amused expression flattens when he turns to Joel. He gives a wordless nod and Joel nods back.

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

"You fucker!" Ellie gasps as she breaks into a laugh.

I narrowed my eyes as I faux examined the surroundings, elbow propped on the sheep fence as I leaned my back on it. I pretend to only just hear Ellie. I give her a look, "you talking to me, punk?"

She snarls through a grin, "yeah, old lady!" Ellie bends down and bunches up snow in her hand, "you're the only one stupid enough to pick a fight with me!"

I raise my hands as she laughs and chucks snow to my face. I easily dodge her attack and whip my hair back, "wow, you call that a fight?"

Ellie groans, "oh, it's soooo on now!"

"Pssh," I eye her as I quickly bunch up snow, "I thought we were already fighting?"

One snowball thrown after another, it doesn't take long for me to yield to Ellie, allowing her the victory, which is all part of my mastermind scheme.

She giggles as she makes it over to me, lying down next to me on the snow I had dramatically fallen onto. I grunt and pant as Ellie plops down on the snow, "since this is the end, tell Joel I think he has a nice butt."

She giggles, "ew! Tell him yourself."

I grab snow and sprinkle it on her face, "I've been trying, Ellie."

She grunts and wipes her face, "well obviously not hard enough!"

I huff and push myself up on my elbows. I look down at Ellie as she purses her lips into a smile, "okay. What do you want me to do?"

She reaches out to me and I pull her up until she was sat down. I brush the snow off her and fix her beanie, "well. I got this dress-"

Ellie squeals out in giggles, "In October?"

"You didn't even know it was October," I growl, "and you didn't let me finish!" I shove her with my shoulder.

She laughs and brushes her hands off, "alright, alright... you got this dress."

I sigh and curl my legs into my chest, "It's more accurately an oversized sweater that I'm thinking to fashion with a belt or something..." I turn to Ellie wrapping my arms around my legs, "I was thinking you'd... ya know... help me get ready though."

Ellie perks up, "you want me to help you get ready?"

I playfully roll my eyes at her, "duhhh, Eileen is too busy for girl talk since he has my smelly brother and smelly nephew keeping her busy. Plus, she's pregnant, so."

Ellie throws her head back in laughter. I break into a chuckle and move to stand up, "and I mean that affectionately for Danny; he really just has some stinky farts. It's not his fault."

She stands up and dusts off the snow on her pants, "I'm in."

I smile at her, pulling her into a side hug, "my girl."

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

"Sooooo," Ellie trails off as she waddles next to Joel who was isolated at the end of the bar, "notice anything different with," she leans back on the bar top, tilting her head to Joel, wiggling her brows, "your favorite Winchester?"

Joel downs his bourbon and sets his glass on the coaster.

Ellie waits for him to react but then turns and props her elbow on the surface, clarifying who she meant.

"I know who you meant," he grunts.

"Well," she shrugs, "you and Dean have been getting close."

Joel eyes her.

"Hey!" she raises her hands, "you go to their house to fix his car, even though you say it'll take a miracle to make it work."

Joel licks his fang and swivels on his stool, averting his gaze elsewhere. He really didn't mean to see what he did.

Ellie catches it to, groaning in annoyance, "aw what! Not him again," she grunts, patting Joel's arm, "go do something."

Joel watches as the man laughs and leans close. Ellie cringes, "he's been trying to get her all attention all night," he turns to Joel, "cause she looks really cute in that dress, and you didn't even compliment her when I gave you an opening."

Joel's nostrils flare as he turns to Ellie, "you tend not to want to compliment someone when pinched on the side and threatened to do so."

She grumbles the way she did under her breath at that very moment Joel was referencing, "that's because you're an idiot with 0 game!"

He straightens up, "look," he snaps, "whatever it is you're doing, you need to stop."

Ellie glares daggers, "I don't understand your deal, Joel," she raises her voice, shifting in her spot to turn to him, "you don't like her?"

Joel turns from Ellie, off to the side, finding Sam stepped in and had now successfully scared of the guy that was making moves on his sister. He watches as Sam rolls his eyes at something that was said.

Joel turns back to Ellie, lips pursed. He doesn't respond.

"Then I honestly don't understand what your deal is," Ellie shakes her head, "she's made it crystal fucking clear that she likes you too."

"Ellie-"

"You're being such a wimp about it."

"It's not that simple."

Ellie makes a face, "it kinda is though," she raises a hand, "just go up to her and say 'wanna bang'-"

Joel groans.

"I guarantee-" Ellie hops in her eagerness, "GUARANTEE, that she will say yes."

"You need to hang out with people your age."

"Then make-" clap, "friends-" clap- "my-" clap, "age!"

Joel wipes his face. He doesn't get to respond as Ellie grabs his bicep. She hisses as he pulls him close, "she's on the move. I'm bringing her over. Don't fuck up."

Joel had little say in any of it. Soon enough Ellie came back with a look of vengeance on her face.

I purse my lips into a smile, "you wanted to talk to me Joel?"

Ellie answers for him, "yeah, he wanted to compliment your pie."

She shoves me next to Joel and I give her a look for her unnecessary manhandling. I watch as she gestures to Joel, pointing to fingers to her eyes before pointing them back and forth her and her dad.

I snort, kid is going overboard. I reach out and pinch her cheek, "I got it, baby doll. Go pick a fight with someone else."

"Oh-ho I will," Ellie says, gripping her fist, "Elijah and I are gonna have a rematch and I'm going to smother him in snow."

I chuckle, "yeah, you go do that."

Ellie walks off after that, muttering something under her breath about annihilation.

When I turn to the bar, I am surprised to see Joel reached out for a glass and is now pouring me a drink. He slides it over to me, chilled with ice, propped on a coaster and all and gives himself a refil.

I smile softly and take the cup, "thank you."

He grunts in response.

I take a sip of the drink. I catch him when he looks at me, and how he quickly looks away. He inhales sharply then takes a quick sip of his drink. We put our glasses down at the same time.

"So... that man that talked to you," Joel starts.

I raise my brows and cringe, "you mean that kid," I lean on my elbows, "darling just turned 19 and is ready to mate with anything within eye's view."

Joel can't help but chuckle.

I chuckle right back, leaning my head in my hand, "oh, you find that funny?"

Joel turns from his drink to me, shrugging as the tiniest of smiles laces his lips.

I shake my head, "he was persistent though. Convinced he could change my mind until Samsquash snarled at him," I chuckle lowly, "I'd say I feel bad, but somehow, though he's grown in the apocalypse, there's still a part of him that smells like the dudes that used to hit on me when I was younger. Full of themselves and entitled."

"I saw," Joel says, swirling his cup, "shudda snarled at him yourself. R' scarier than your brother."

I break into a giddy laugh. Joel turns to me then looks out the window past me, seeing that it was beginning to snow outside.

"I'm flattered," I say, straightening up, "twice over to know that you've been watching me."

Joel stills. He darts his eyes over to me. The grin on my lips widen.

Sam grunts at the sight of what was going on at the bar. That, and because his son, sat on his shoulders, was pulling his hair. He mutters lowly, "I don't like it."

Eileen, who was busy fixing the food with Maria and two other volunteers, eyes her husband and looks over her shoulder, spotting what was making Sam's blood boil so much. She sighs, "well, I'm happy to inform you it has nothing to do with you."

Sam turns to Eileen as he shakes his shoulders up for the entertainment of the kid on him, "you're kidding."

Eileen averts her attention to the coleslaw she was fixing, then to Sam, "what? You wanna be their third? That's weird as hell."

Sam grunts as Danny giggles and wraps his arms around his head, "higher, daddy! Higher!"

Sam adjusts his grip on his son's leg and clutches the side of his belly as he makes him bounce on his shoulder.

"Giddy up, horsey!" Dean blurts as he makes his way over to the buffet table, winding his hands up in the air. He lets out an airy sound and smirks at his baby bro, "woooow, fatherhood has made you it's b-" he cuts himself off, just as Sam eyes him. Dean corrects himself, "female dog."

Eileen snorts out a loud laugh as he takes Dean's plate, "you want some coleslaw?"

"Uh," Dean snaps to her, "hard pass," he raises a finger. He motions to the side, "barbeque and apple pie only, please."

Eileen shakes her head, "aye, aye, sheriff."

Dean then averts his attention to his nephew, who then looks down at him. He raises his hands up at Danny, wiggling his fingers, "come one, kid. You're invited to the big boy table."

Danny immediately stirs and leans toward his uncle, forcing Sam to bend down and grip him tightly as he moves to Dean's arms.

Dean graciously takes the four-year-old in his arms and coos at his man Dan. He snuggles into him, "darling, I have no idea how my brother helped make such a cutie baby."

Danny giggles as Dean blows a raspberry to his neck. When he pulls away, Danny places his soft hand on Dean's cheek, "uncle, we-" he inhales deeply, "we play with da animals."

Dean nods, "yep. We're gonna go play with the animals."

Danny squeals in excitement.

Sam cuts in, "later. It's snowing pretty hard out."

Dean turns to his brother, to his nephew, to his sister-in-law, who hands him back his plate. Dean gets it from her and walks off to his table, Sam follows suit.

"What some some pie, sweetheart?" Dean says as he sits with Danny on his lap.

Danny shakes his head though he begins to reach out for Dean's fork. Dean lets him take it as Sam pulls out a toy car from his pocket, "Danny."

Danny turns to his papa.

"Mustang?" Sam asks.

Danny calls, "Mufta!"

Dean gets the car from Sam and hands it to Danny before getting his fork and eating some food.

As Danny amuses himself by pushing the toy car back and forth on the table, his dad turns to his uncle, cocking his head to the side, "you really gonna let that slide?"

Dean chews, eyes flickering off knowingly to the bar, back to Sam, "I," he calls out, "like him."

Sam leans on his chair, crossing his arms, "you like him cos he helps with your car."

"I like him cos he helped us with the goat demon in the mountains and didn't bat a fucking eye."

Danny gasps, turning to his uncle, "bad word!"

Dean makes a guilty face as Danny shakes his head, "that's not good."

"Sorry, my man Dan."

Sam sniffles, rubbing his nose. He crosses his legs and bounces his foot, "well, the last guy helped us out too."

"Yeah, except I never liked or trusted him," Dean cuts, putting his fork down, "you did."

Danny makes a bubbly engine sound with his lips.

Sam and Dean stare at each other. The former clenches his jaw, "you saying I'm a bad judge of character?"

"I'm saying you got cynical," Dean adjusts Danny on his lap. He checks his nephew before looking out to his sister. He sighs, turning to his brother, "he's a man. I'm a man. I know what he's capable of," he explains, "and I'm my baby siblings' protector, so I get where you're coming from. Especially with her, okay. I get it."

Instinctively, Sam looks out and instantly spots Tommy and Maria, arms around each other as they talked. He turns back to Dean, "but you're gonna let her go with someone older than you because you see yourself in him."

Dean rolls his jaw, "I'm gonna let her go with who she wants because I want her to be happy."

Sam shakes his head.

"And," Dean grabs his fork and scoops up some pie, "if things goes sideways, you'll be the first to bark," he stuffs his face, licking his lips, "and I'll be the last to bite."

Sam and Dean stare at each other for a while.

"He's reluctant with his emotions," Sam sighs, "she isn't. I'm just worried it might blow up in her face."

Suddenly, Danny is being hauled of Dean's lap as Eileen comes over, looking at the brothers. She sighs, turning to her son, "how about we go to the big girl's table for a change?" She kisses her son's cheek.

At that moment, Dean spots her sister stand from the bar and walk out of the place, hand gripping Joel's belt and he dragged him out with him, "well fuck. I'm gonna be an uncle all over again."

Sam stiffens and looks over his shoulder.

Dean turns wide eyed at his food, "that's definitely something you can't unsee," he stuff his face again, "but hey, ya know, good for them. Took 'em long enough," his face falls at the thought though, suddenly cringing in mighty disgust, "yeah. I'm gonna be couch surfing at your place tonight."

Sam turns back to him, shaking his head in distaste.

❄❄❄❄👹❄❄❄❄

We didn't make it my bed when we got back home. To be honest, I thought it would be me that snapped first, but was Joel. Joel who was so impatient, Joel who was so viscous, Joel who was pent up though it was him fucking holding out for seemingly absolutely no reason.

He didn't even give me a chance to strip him naked and live my fantasies for real. He got me pressed up against the back of the damned couch, spine pressed against his chest as he clawed at my pants as if his life depended on it.

He bunched my top up and pushes me forward as he played with the pulse in between my thighs. He hisses where I whine. I let out a sound, "I fucking told you, old man," I grunt, "need you to fuck me over."

Joel growls and rubs two fingers into my wetness before plunging in, "don't fucking call me that."

My chuckle evaporates into a whiny moan as he shoves me forward and fucks his fingers into me.

My hands grip at the sofa as I try to lift my head up and even my breathing. I dart my tongue out to my teeth as the feel of his thick, calloused digits work into my tenderness. I pant, putting the remnant of my brain cells to good use, "should I call you daddy then?"

Joel hisses, pulling away from me.

I groan in protest at the loss of contact, but chew on my lip and turn around when I hear the sound of him undoing his belt. I feel my slick drip down my thigh as I watch in anticipation. I reach out to help him, but he swats my hand away and cranes his neck forward, "on your knees."

My jaw slacks but I waste no time and drop to my knees, eyes locked on his, then to his pants that were now being unzipped.

Joel shakes his head and grabs my shoulders, "all fours."

The sound I make is embarrassingly desperate and needy when he shoves me down, but I don't give a shit.

I prop myself on my hands and knees and feel my core flutter and weep in anticipation. I tug my lower lip, restless at the wait. I whine, panting heavily, "Joel, hurryyyyyy. I don't want to bruise my knees."

I feel him drop down behind me, "I'll fucking bruise your pussy, you brat."

My jaw drops. He shoves my dress up again. My stomach swirls. I never fucking pegged Joel Miller to have such a dirt-

I let out a loud and obscene sound when I feel him mount me. There was no warning, no calm before the storm, just pure, thrashing, needy, filthy fucking. I suck in a deep, strangled breath, as if I just came out of water at the feel of him ripping into me.

Joel rumbles like a hungry wolf as he flicks his hips. His ferocious presto made the sound of skin slapping echo in the empty house, muted out, of course, by my delirious wailing.

My knees skid and my arms dip as I struggle to hold myself up against his force, hip bones reveling in the strength of his grip and how his fingers were surely, stingingly, and deliciously bruising my flesh.

"Joel," I call out as my voice hikes up and down against his actions.

"That's sir to you, brat," he grunts, grabbing my hair, pulling my head back by it.

I exclaim at the pleasurable discomfort of his strength, feeling my belly begin to tighten and my core follow suit. I moan, "oh, fuck, yes, sir, yes sir, yesir, yezir, yeshr, yea, yu, yuh, hhh, hu, hu, hu-"

"You feel so good, baby girl," he grunts, "so wet, and soft against my hard dick."

I groan and squeal simultaneously, "yes, sir, thank- hu- thnksir-"

The sound of Joel's deep pants make me dig my nails into the hardwood floor. I feel myself reaching closer and closer so quickly to my peak.

I could feel my knees begin to chafe and bruise against the floor, but I really couldn't care less because of how good I felt everywhere else.

"Feel so good, baby," he sighs, one hand coming to my sensitive nub, stroking me there graciously until his fingers were covered in my arousal, "dripping so much. This for me?"

"Yes sir!" I whine, "for you, for you, for you-"

"Good girl."

I squeal at the praise, leaning my face down to the floor as I feel drool slip out of my open mouth as my cheek rubs into the wood."

Joel chuckles darkly, "you a good girl for me?"

"Yes sir. Yes please."

He hums "taking me so good," he grunts, "come around me then, pretty girl. Can you do that for me?"

"YES!" I growl, "yes, sir, please sir, so close, so-"

With the combined sensation of his rapid rocking and steady rubbing, it doesn't take much for me to rupture against him and crumble into wanton sounds. I feel my insides shatter into a million pieces, my lungs fall out of enough air, and my brain get fogged with only the thought of Joel Miller fucking me senseless.

He lets me ride it out. He makes sure I ride it out and fucks into me until I can't bare to keep myself up.

And then when that was over, when my wounded knees were begging for the same relief my aching body just had. Joel pulls out of me and I hear a squelch and a string airy curses.

As I catch my breath, I feel something hot splutter down my left thigh.

"Fuck," Joel sighs and grunts, "I... made a mess on you, darlin."

I whimper as I slide down flat on my stomach, "s'ok sir," I moan as I press my cheek on the floor, "wanna be a mess for you. Wanna be your good girl... wanna be yours... wanna be yours."

Joel doesn't respond even though his chest tightens at that admission. Its the fucking, he thinks. He made it clear that's all it was.

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

"Did you check the back, Dean?"

"Of course I checked the back, Sam. What am I? Two?"

"Danny's smarter than you now, actually," Sam points.

Dean rolls his eyes, while I walk past them with a chuckle, "it's true. Also, I checked the back."

Sam turns to me, "ok, good."

"Bitch-" Dean starts, but is cut off by Sam, who flares at the sight of Joel following me into the truck.

"Woah," Sam says, raising his hand up, "what is he doing here?"

I give him a look, "he's your replacement, dummy. It's always been a three person job."

Joel turns to Sam as he grunts and climbs into the back. I catch Sam's expression and roll my eyes at him, "dude. Just be with your wife. She's been having really bad headaches and fatigue. She needs you more than we do."

Sam turns to me and snaps, "I know."

I shake my head, "I know you know."

I watch Joel as he finally gets in and sits in front of me. I hold in my laugh as I notice his red face and heavy breathing. I bite my lip and nod at him, "you good, grampa?"

Joel eyes me.

"Does he even know what's gonna go down?" Sam calls, leaning on the truck, ignoring Joel beside him, looking straight across at me.

I give him a look, "of course he knows what's gonna go down, or else he's gonna die."

Sam rolls his jaw and turns to Joel.

"Oh get over it, Samsquash," Dean pushes Sam away, "I'll catch a rabbit for Eileen. It's what she used to crave when she was pregnant with Danny." He places a bag in the front seat, "probably why that kid loves hopping around so much." When he doesn't get a response, he turns to Sam and purses his lips, "and it's not like we're doing an exorcism."

Sam huffs, rolls his eyes, and taps his foot, "but you might."

Dean gets into the front seat of the pickup truck, "nah. It'll be fine. Joel's a sharpshooter."

Sam shakes his head, "oh right. I totally forgot."

Dean eyes Sam, raising his brows, "do you wanna come?"

"No," Sam blurts, "I need to be with Eil-"

Dean slams the door shut and opens the engine. I wave at Sam as we drive away, grinning at his annoyed expression.

"That's pretty harsh," Joel mutters to me, hands on the side of the truck.

I turn to him and raise a brow, "oh, like you wouldn't do that to Tommy."

Joel purses his lips.

I chuckle.

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

Dean laughs as he looks through his binoculars, "man."

Joel cocks his sniper beside him.

I squint as I look out to the distance.

"If you make that shot," my brother says, "I'll be the officiant of your wedding."

I snort at that.

Joel tenses, turns to Dean, then back to his scope.

I huff and grab the binoculars from my brother, who barely mutters out protest in lieu of keeping quiet. He does however say, "fucking rat," very angrily under his breath.

Joel sucks in a breath, "I got eyes on the target."

Dean gives me one last dirty look, then turns to him and nods, "okay, remember. No matter what happens, do not let its form deter you, alright? Shoot it dead. It will take form of someone you won't want to kill to save itself. Don't let it stop you."

Joel lets out a breath that condenses with the cold.

I spot the entity. In its form now, it was a shapeless dark nothing. I suck in a breath, "you can do it, Joel. You got this."

Joel readies himself to take the shot. It was mostly mental preparation because he knew what was gonna happen, who that thing was going to turn into if he doesn't kill it with the first bullet. He was warned over and over. He'd be a fool not to listen.

I bite my lips in anticipation.

Dean begins to get a little restless after a while, especially since he couldn't see that far off. He wants to urge Joel but he doesn't say anything. He's got time.

Then bang.

One shot.

But it wasn't enough.

There is a loud screech.

Joel quickly cocks his gun.

I watch as the entity morphs before my eyes. Joel sees it too. It's a little girl. It sees withers in pain and finally spots its attack. It spots Joel and reaches out to him, hands bloody, face scared and desperate.

Joel hesitates. His finger straining against the trigger, unable to pull it back.

"Joel," I mutter softly, pulling the binoculars away, giving it back to Dean, who eagerly looks out with it.

I lean close to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "it's not her, Joel. Listen to me, okay? It's not her."

Joel feels his hands shake.

Dean finally sees the target and stiffens, "she's right. That's no little girl, Joel," he explains calmly, though he did not like the fact the thing was inching towards them at a quick pace, "little girls don't have red eyes, Joel."

But Joel doesn't see the red eyes, he sees her. He sucks in a sharp breath then heaves slowly.

"Joel," I call slowly, "it's not her."

Dean gulps as the thing comes closer. He pulls the binoculars away and readies his own gun. Before he can cock it though, another bang rips through the air. This time, there was no more scream.

Joel pulls away from his gun away and breathes heavily.

I grab his arm and look at him, brushing his hair back, repeating over and over again, "it wasn't her. It wasn't her, Joel."

Joel turns to me as I take the firearm from him and place it down on the floor.

Dean pats Joel's shoulder but then motions with his head, "come on, you have to see it with your own eyes."

The three of then walk over to the fallen creature, its form no longer what it was, neither a black entity or a little girl, it was now a blob of corroded flesh.

Joel looks down at it with a tense face. I cling to his arm and pull him close. I feel him shiver against me. Dean throws some magazine papers on the carcass then sets it on fire.

We watch it burn then put out the flame once the smell of burnt flesh was gone. It was always a weird feeling to be comforted by the flames of a monster you killed.

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

The front door opens.

"Hey El-machine, is your papa here?" I ask.

Ellie cringes as she lets me walk inside her house, "please don't bring your kinks into this."

I turn to her and give her a look, "what?! I'm not-"

"Joel's upstairs," she cuts me off.

I pull my head back at that, "is he sleeping in today too?"

Ellie shrugs, "IDK," she slings her backpack over her shoulder, "I'm heading off to school."

I dash over to her, messing her hair up before she gets out, "be good."

"I'll do my best," she retorts, smoothening out the mess I did on her head before putting on her beanie.

I dash up the stairs and knock on Joel's bedroom door, calling out his name. I don't get a response the first time, but I get a grunt the second time though, and take it as a cue to walk in.

It was clear from the get go that Joel was sick, judging by the layers upon layers of blankets on him. He normally didn't get too cold, or, well, at least not when I slept with him.

I walk over to his laid body and brush his hair back, hissing at the heat on his forehead.

"Fuck."

I turn back to get some medicine for him, but before I could run off, he grabs my hand and I gasp at its hotness.

I move close to him and bend down, clutching his burning hand with my cooler ones, "what is it, baby?"

Joel groans, eyelids struggling to open. He mutters softly, "stay wi' me."

I pout at his words, "I will. I promise. I just have to get medicin-"

"Done," he mutters. He sighs, "I did. Please... ... need to... hold..."

I frown. I nod at his words. I take off my shoes, crawl over him, and bring myself under the sheets. I huff at the heat Joel was radiating. I begin to think of the repercussions of cuddling someone with a fever, but I cast it away as I lean into Joel, allowing him to either pull me in or curl into me.

He chooses the latter, rolling over into my arms, his hot face nestling into my cool neck. I let him latch onto me and seal me in a tight hug. I wrap my arms around him and brush his hair back with my fingers.

I feel guilty about his state. It had been a few days since we took him to the woods, and he's been under the weather ever since.

"You need to get better, okay?" I mutter softly, "so that I can learn how to shoot from you and you won't ever have to do this again."

I feel him rub his cheek against me. I swear I hear him mutter 'let me do it' under his breath.

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

"Ew," I groan as I push back the plate of eggs Joel made for me, "this is raw, Joel."

Joel looks over from the kitchen, giving me a look, "beggars can't be choosers, darlin'."

Ellie grimaces as she chews on her own mushy plate of eggs.

I catch her expression and ask, "is yours raw too?"

"No, its you to that makes me sick," she notes.

I shake my head and turn back to Joel, "it makes me want to puke." I feel disgust at even just the sight of the plate, "please recook it for me."

Joel huffs as he puts out the flame of the stove. He grabs the pan with a towel and brings it over to the table, placing it on a pot holder, "just eat some chicken."

I lean over to look at the meat, finding it charred and black in some places. I feel my stomach react in distaste, "yeah... thanks honey, but I think I'll have some apples instead."

Joel watches me as I stand and hand him my plate. He gets my eggs, turns to the pan then to Ellie, "it's not even that bad."

Ellie shrugs, poking a large piece for herself, "she's been having tummy problems. Must be from eating all your bad cooking, to be honest."

Joel huffs, turning over his shoulder, watching me grab some apples for myself. He walks over to me and watches as I wash it and take a bite.

"Is my cooking really that bad?" he asks.

I chuckle at him and shake my head, "no. My stomach has just been goofy, s'all."

Joel leans one hand on the counter. I chew on the fruit as I rub his belly, "you should hug me til I'm better."

Joel sighs as I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his torso.

"Yo, I'm literally eating over here!" Ellie calls out.

"Yeah, and I'm literally just hugging your dad," I bite on my apple and chew against Joel's chest, inhaling the scent of him, comforting and warm.

"Old people are so gross."

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

I huff as I jog back to Joel, who was catching his breath. He was hunched over and exhausted after all the walking we did to follow the deer that ran off.

"You good, honey?" I ask.

He huffs, "m'fine."

"Hey, no shame in needing to take a moment."

Joel lifts his eyes and sees Sam and Dean, both steadily treading up the upward slope of this steep, frosty mountain. There is. There is shame in that

I help him straighten up and smile, "I don't know why you find this so hard, to be honest."

Joel eyes me dirtily as he and I begin to laugh and walk, arms linked together.

I giggle, "I'm just saying, we do a lot of cardio as it is. You should be as healthy as a horse."

He snorts through his nostrils, reaching out to push my hair back, "clearly not enough, baby girl."

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

Joel's entire body hurts. He feels it. It's loud and clear. He's not what he used to be before. It hurt after their hunt. It hurt after he did manual labor. It hurt. He was hurting.

He laid in bed alone tonight because his body hurting. His body hurt too much, too much for him to be of any help to the Winchesters. The three did the right choice leaving him. He'd've died if he tagged along. He'd have been dead weight.

Joel sighs, screwing his eyes shut.

He's old.

He's weak.

He no use. No good.

He thinks about Sam. Maybe this was why he was so irked by him. He knew Joel was about to give out. He's not good enough for his sister. He isn't. He knows it. I mean... he was clear about what he could give anyway. He was clear about it, but lately, he's been letting himself dream. He's been letting himself think.

But he feels it clearly now. He remembers why he kept his distance, why he was so reluctant in the first place despite himself, despite how much he actually wanted to dream. And yet again, despite himself he went for it, despite the sense in his brain that told him not to, he let himself laugh, he let himself feel, he let himself break open, even just a tiny bit.

Joel rolls on the bed and feels like his back was being pulled in the most horrible way possible.

Fuck.

This... This wasn't... He wasn't the sight someone should come home to.

Joel sighs.

He knows what he has to do...

... before it's too late.

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

"What?" my lips quiver, "what do you mean, Joel?"

Joel licks his lips as he places his hands on his hips. "I'm saying... we had a good run. I think it's better we end things because I can't keep up with you anymore."

"Keep up?" I shake my head.

He sighs, "darling, look at me. I'm not exactly the picture of youth."

I knit my brows tightly and shake my head, "Joel, you're not seriously saying we stop seeing each other because you caught yourself with a few more wrinkles?"

"It's not the wrinkles," he snaps, "it's everything. The stamina, the interests. You deserve someone who can be there to help you and your brothers, and someone who's interested in you."

"Wait," I shake my head, "you're telling me you're not interested in me?"

Joel clenches his jaw.

I scoff.

He mutters, "s'what it is."

"You lying rat," I grunt, nostrils flaring, "you listened to me rant about Pluto and my high school clubs. You don't do that when you're uninterested."

He shakes his head, "I told you that time at the bar, I could only give you half of what you wanted from me and you said that was fine."

I scoff at his words, "so, what? Everything since then was an act so you could keep fucking me?"

Joel does not respond.

I feel my eyes glass, "why would you agree to help me and my brothers then? Don't fucking tell me you let yourself have nightmares just to get into my pants!"

Nothing.

I groan and grab at his collar, "you confided in me. You told me she was your daughter!" I feel myself shake in my anger and frustration, "she was the one you saw in the woods. You told me you dreamt about her! You broke down to me about her!" I hiss, eyes welling with tears, "don't fucking lie to me, Joel."

"I can't--" he quips, "-do it anymore."

I feel my tears roll down my cheeks.

"I can't be with you," he huffs, "I don't want to be with you."

I feel like I'm shot when I hear him say that. I release him and step back, breathe catching in my throat as I tried to calm myself and prevent tears from falling.

Joel's expression begins to harden, "being with you..." he goes quiet before he continues. His voice breaks when he admits, "is exhausting."

A stake to the heart. A bullet to the brain. A slap on the face.

I cannot help but crumble before him. My heart clenches. My lips begin to quiver.

I shake my head, "I can... I can change."

Joel's face twitches.

"I can... I can be what you want... please, Joel, I-"

He steps back when I try to reach out for him again, without the hostility. Joel knit his brows, "you can't change. Not for me."

He doesn't even give me a chance to speak again as he just leaves me and walks away.

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

"Baby," Eileen gathers my hair and rubs my back.

I groan as I pull away from the toilet I was hunched over.

"S'auntie okay?" Danny, who was peeping through the open bathroom door, mutters. Eileen pulls away from me as I flush the toilet and wash my mouth and hands on the sink.

Danny is picked up by his mom and is kissed on the cheek, "auntie is just a little sick because her tummy didn't like the pancakes."

Danny clutches Eileen's face, "pancake's not yummy for auntie?"

"No, Dan," I huff and turn to Danny, "I liked the pancakes we made but-"

I can't continue because of the look Eileen gives me. I look at her and her solemn expression. I feel my eyes begin to water. I release a breath and yet still get betrayed by my voice, "my- my tummy's just... been a bit upset lately."

Danny looks at me and pouts, "papa rubs my belly and mama makes me soup when I - when my tummy hurts. Maybe you need'a poop auntie."

I rub my eyes and walk over to Danny, brushing his hair back, "thank you, sweetie pie," I pout and sigh, "but I don't have to poop. At least not right now."

Danny reaches out to me, making grabby hands. I let out a breath and take my nephew into my arms. He seals me into a tight embrace and strokes my hair, "it's ok, auntie. I go rub your belly for you."

I sniffle against the child's tiny shoulder. He begins to wrangle out of my hold and I put him down in front of me.

Eileen comes up to my side and grabs my arm as her son steps in front of me and raises both of his hands to my belly, making shushing noises, "there, there. Shhh. It's gonna be okay. It will pass."

Fuck. I bring my face into my hands, unable to hold back the tears that are ripping out of my eyes. Danny sounded so much like Sam. Eileen brings me into a side hug, clutching Danny's head as she did, "baby girl..."

What if... What if Joel... and mine acts like him... and-

Danny embraces my and his mom's legs, leaning his cheek against my thigh, "it's ok auntie. You can cry if it hurts."

I bite my lip and hold in my sobs, feeling my chest begin to cave in and my nose begin to clog. I turn to Eileen, finding that she too was now crying.

"Oh, gosh, I-"

"It's okay," she shakes her head, pulling me close to her, "we'll get through this. It will pass. No matter what. You have me, Danny, Sam, and Dean."

I hold back my miserable whines, reaching out for her belly that was barely beginning to show. My eyes were fogged by tears as I mutter softly, "I'm sorry that this is happening to me when you-"

"Shut up," she quips, "there's nothing to be sorry for," Eileen eagerly disagrees, "in fact, it's exciting to know at the end of it there'll be two babies. They'll be best friends, baby. The best."

"Wait-" a voice cuts, "you're pregnant?"

Eileen and I turn back.

Sam behind us is wide eyed and wholly shocked.

My breath leaves me. Eileen walks up to my brother, grabbing his arm, "Sam."

Sam looks out to me with wide eyes.

"Daddy, auntie's tummy is upset," Danny says, walking over to his dad, "I rubbed it so that it gets better."

Sam ignores his son as he looks at me, awaiting my response.

I shake my head and shrug, "I... I don't know... but I think-" I choke on my tears.

Sam grunts, jaw tightening. He quips, "what did he say?"

I shake my head and shrug again.

"No," he raises a finger, "what does that mean?"

"It means... we haven't been talking for a while before I even found out, Sam."

Sam lets out a deep breath. Eileen mutters something to him.

"I'll fucking kill him," he mutters.

Danny gasps, "daddy bad! You said a bad word!"

Sam turns down, sighing, "fuck- shit- sorry- I- Sorry, Danny-"

"DADDY!"

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

Dean huffs as he sits down on the table. He looks across at Ellie, who watches him as he places his hands on the table, "anything?"

She shrugs, "I'm just convinced he's fucking stupid."

He sighs, shaking his head as he looks out the window, "damn fucking straight."

Ellie leans forward, "maybe we should just lock them in a room together, force them to make up."

Dean turns to her, "absolutely not. I'm not locking my sister up with a man too spineless to face the truth about his feelings," he crosses his arms, "plus. She's been staying at Sam & Eileen's. I think she thinks I haven't caught on and that I'd still invite your old man over to fix Baby."

Ellie groans, bringing her face down to the table, knocking on it with her forehead repeatedly, "why did they even break up? They were so lovey-dovey and gross, and now they just... fucking stopped." She groans and pulls at her hair, "they're both fucking miserable too. I don't fucking get it."

Dean makes a face, "lay off the curses, kid."

"You lay off the fucking curses," she snaps, turning to him.

Dean shakes his head and rolls his eyes. He sighs and looks out the window again, watching a bunch of people outside walk by, "I know my sister. She would never have been the one to break things off. And from what I gather from Joel," he turns back to Ellie, voice getting smaller, "he must have pulled some self-righteous shit about being too fucking broken for her or something."

Ellie watches Dean look out the window again. She shifts in her seat, pursing her lips in thought, "yeah... sounds like something he would do."

Dean scoffs, leaning into his elbows, brows knitting tightly, "kick some sense into him, Ellie."

Ellie was about to agree, but then she stopped herself and said, "can't you do?"

Dean pulls his head back.

"You seem to be... speaking from experience."

Dean's lips curve into a smile. He lets out an airy chuckle, "don't make this about me," he stands and moves away from his seat, "and if I talk to him, I'm going to want to leave a few marks for making my sister cry."

Ellie straightens, "has she been crying a lot?"

Dean raises a brow, "probably not as much as Joel."

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

I freeze when I hear someone call out my name. I wrap my arms around myself and walk faster.

She calls out to me again. I hear her run towards me. Half of my brain urges me to run too. And I want to, but I don't. I let Ellie catch up with me as I rush away from her house.

"Stop!" she calls, grabbing onto my arm, running up in front of me, "please," she sighs, "don't go! Come inside, talk to-"

"I can't-" I shake my head, "I- I..." I feel my eyes water, "I can't Ellie."

Ellie shakes her head, "why not? You know you want to. You both want to. Joel has-"

"You can't tell him I've been coming here," I quip quickly.

She knits her brows and purses her lips, "you've been coming here?"

I shudder at my slip. I shake my head and cover my face, pushing past her.

Ellie calls out my name and holds me back. I power against her but she persists. It causes us to topple over on the snowy ground.

I grunt as try to dodge Ellie as I fall back onto her. I bring my hand out as I fall to my side. I let out a breath as I roll over then turn to Ellie, "are you okay?"

Ellie quickly sits up and grabs onto me, "don't run away please. Please. I miss you."

My voice cracks, "Ellie-"

"I'll help you talk to him if you need me. Please. Give him another sh-"

"He doesn't want me Ellie," I cut her off.

"What?"

"He doesn't want me."

Ellie makes a face, "that's not true."

"He doesn't want me," I repeat, "he told me that himself."

She scowls, helping me get up, "he's a fucking liar."

"I didn't go here to-" I say as I get to my feet. "I didn't..." I even my breathing, I didn't come here to work things out with him."

Ellie knits her brows as she clings onto my top, afraid I would run away again.

My eyes begin to water. I choke out a sob, "I'm pregnant."

Ellie's eyes widen. Her jaw slacks. Her face falls.

I chuckle dryly as I cup her reddened cheeks, "you're... gonna be a sister."

Ellie looks at me, completely still and silent.

I let out a shaky breath, "he didn't want me before I found out, Ellie. He sure as hell won't want me now."

Ellie blinks heavily then rapidly, "no! I can-"

"You can't tell him," I huff, shaking my head, "it has-" huff, "-it has to be me," I rub her face with my thumbs, "you understand?"

She releases a breath and nods. He places her hands on my wrists then steps closer, "I understand."

I offer her a soft smile and pull away.

She grabs my hands, "... let me help you, okay? ... please?"

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

I am sitting on the floor, leaning against the door with my legs curled up. There is a chair to my side, jammed up by the knob so that it couldn't be opened from the inside.

I panic when I feel an attempt at opening the door. I jolt and turn to the knob as it shimmies violently.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"ELLIE!" shaking, "THE DOOR IS JAMMED."

More bangs on the door.

I clear my throat, swallowing the lump at the back of my mouth. I suck in a breath and stand, clutching my hands together as I gather the strength to speak.

"ELLIE!"

"Joel."

It goes silent. The banging and the shimmying ceases.

I feel like I need to puke.

My head begins to spin. I move to the stairs and look down at Ellie, stood at the bottom. I want to run away. I dont when I see her shaking her hands as she mouths, "it's okay."

The door begins to get shaken again.

"It's me, Joel," I call out impulsively, speaking my name, as though I was reluctant it was mine. The noise stops again.

I walk back to the door and lick my lips, "I... I need to tell you something."

"So you locked me in?" Joel speaks from inside his bedroom. He doesn't sound mad when he says it, but the sigh at the end of his disappointed sounding words make me feel like I'm insane.

"I can't-" I choke, "can't look at you. If I do, I won't be able to say it."

He doesn't respond.

I sniffle as I feel my tears begin to rush down my face, "but I have to tell you this. I have to-" I gulp, "I have to just say it."

Still, I get no response.

I let out a breath and clench my fists. Quick and clean, quick and clean, come on, you can do this. I blurt, "I'm pregnant."

Then I stand there. I stand there and stare at the blocked door.

Nothing though. I get nothing in response.

I begin to think maybe I spoke too softly. I internally curse and suck in a deep breath, "I said I'm pr-"

"I heard you the first time."

I clench my jaw.

"Asshole," I hear Ellie grunt faintly. I turn over my shoulder and I see her eyeing the door from her spot in the stairs dirtily.

I lick my lips, thinking of what to say next. I don't. I don't know what else to say.

"How... ... are you sure?"

I feel like I've just been spat on. I scoff as I turn back to the door. I wipe my nose, "I'm not, actually," I chew at my lower lip, "I've never been regular, so I... I my symptoms could just really be me being miserable over.... over..." I don't finish my train of thoughts.

"You still can't eat well?"

I chuckle bitterly, "no."

I hear him curse under his breath.

Dread begins to eat me up.

"I'm sorry, Joel. I know you-- I know how you feel. And I don't expect anything from you cause I know... how you feel," I lick my lips, "and maybe I'm wrong. Maybe," I clutch my stomach, "things will still change.

"You wanna know why Sam's really hard on you? Well, last time I liked someone this much, he was really excited for me. He was really excited. But then he turned out to be a jerk, and... he got me pregnant too," I sniffle, "and I didn't know then either," I let out a breath, "I didn't know until my brothers woke me up after I bled so much in my sleep and... and... I thought I was on my period... but it was too much blood and... and..." I shut myself up and bite my lip until I tasted iron.

I hear Ellie call out my name. I turn to her, finding she was already standing beside me, and chuckle through tears as she moves in to give me a hug.

I press my lips into a thin line as I embrace her and attempt to calm myself, "and... maybe that'll happen again."

Ellie calls out my name when I say this.

I chuckle bitterly yet again, "or... Or you know, maybe I really just don't like the food I've been eating."

He calls out my name.

It makes me pull away from Ellie and feel the need to flee.

And this time I do. I give Ellie a smile and silently get out of the house as fast as I can.

When the door finally does open, Joel is caught off guard by Ellie's attacks. She punches and shoves Joel back up until he is able to grab her arms and prevent her from charging. She hisses angrily as she thrashes out of Joel's grip, "WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING, YOU COWARD? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HER YOU'RE A PATHETIC YELLOWBELLY? WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?!"

Ellie fumes and only stills when she see's Joel's distraught expression. His face was hard, his eyes were glazed, his breath was shallow. He looked miserable. Good.

Ellie almost feels bad for him, but she doesn't, "go after her, you idiot. Tell her how you really feel before you make things worse."

"I can't-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T!" Ellie snaps, "SHE TOLD ME COULDN'T EITHER BUT SHE CAME HERE AND TALKED TO YOU ANYWAY."

"I-" Joel releases her, "I don't deserve..."

Ellie watches Joel as his knees buckle and as he falls to the floor. He sinks his face in his hands and roughly rubs his eyes on his calloused palms. He chokes on a sob.

Ellie scoffs, "deserve? You know what you deserve? You deserve to suffer for being stupid, but she-" she points, "she doesn't deserve to believe that you don't want her when you clearly do."

"Ellie, I-" Joel looks up at the girl, "I... don't know how to do this anymore."

"Well, you can start by apologizing! By being there for her," she quips, "now go," she kicks him, "get out of here and don't you dare come back until you've made amends."

Joel looks at the child.

"GO!"

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

Dean snarls when he sees Joel's pathetic expression. He clenches his jaw and looks down on him, "she's not here."

Joel shoves his boot between the door before Dean can close it shut.

"Please," he says rather desperately, "just a few moments s'all I need."

Dean flares, ripping the door open. He grabs Joel by the collar and begins shoving him back, "did she fucking tell you?"

Joel moves back as he is charged by the larger, leaner, and younger furious man, unable to do much else against his strength, not really having much fight in him to be honest.

"Answer me!" Dean barks.

"She told me," Joel mutters.

"And what exactly did she tell you?!"

"That she's pregnant."

Dean sucks in a breath and shoves Joel back. He nearly falls on his ass, but manages to stay up.

Joel watches the man wipe his face and kick snow around.

"She thinks I don't know," Dean points, "but I caught her. I caught her when you two had a fall out. And I caught her puking her guts out while she cried over you."

Joel shudders, breath condensing in front of him.

"It took her telling you this to get you to man up and face yourself," Dean paces around and clenches his fist, "you disgust me-" he huffs through his nostrils, steam coming out, "her kid doesn't deserve a pathetic shell of a man as a father," he licks his lip, "don't you agree?"

Joel feels that come at him like a kick to the teeth, a punch in the gut. He is rendered still and silent. A million different things run through his head. Not long after, he is actually does get punched in the gut.

Dean tackles him to the ground, pressing his hands on Joel's throat. His eyes are wild and his grip is deadly, "you're not even going to spew some bullshit to pacify me, you absolute dipshit?!"

Joel grips Dean's wrists as the Winchester chokes the life out of him. In his rage and offence of the fact he wasn't even being fought back, Dean pulls away from him and begins bashing his face in. He gets to beat him twice before he's being pried off.

"WHAT THE FUCK, DEAN!" I scream as Sam rips him away while he wrangles out of his clutch.

"LET ME GO, SAM!" Dean shouts.

Sam locks his arms around Dean's flailing ones as he mutters, "COOL IT, DEAN!"

I drop down next to Joel as I help him sit up.

I hear Joel's pained mewls. I hear his soft voice mutter through it, "I'm sorry."

I whine as I look at his battered face as I help him get up, "Joel-"

"LET ME GO, YOU IDJIT!" Dean shouts even louder.

Sam manages to over power him and shouts, "GET HIM INSIDE, NOW."

"LIKE FUCKING HELL- GET AWAY FROM HIM- DON'T YOU DARE-"

❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄

"I'm sorry about Dean," I mutter as I place a ice pack on Joel's face.

I sit down next to him on the couch as he takes the pack from me. Joel makes a sound before he says, "don't be."

"He could have killed you," I snap, shaking my head, "he was close. You're lucky Sam came with me here to get some pillows."

Joel looks at me for a long moment, saying absolutely nothing. I turn away from him when he calls my name. I look my my laps and clench my hands.

"Look," I huff, "I know you're here because you're shaken by what I told you earlier. But it's okay-"

"It's not okay," Joel straightens up, pulling the pack away, placing it on the couch.

"No, Joel," I turn back to him, "you were right. It was unfair of me to expect more from you when you told me from the start you could only give me so much."

He says my name again and I can't stand it. I get off the cushion and look down at him. I regret it when I see the looks of his battered face and his damp cheeks. I suck in a breath, "if..." I say carefully, "I manage to take this pregnancy to full term, you'll always have a part in our baby's life. -"

Our baby's life.

"- Always. But please don't come to me telling me shit you don't mean because you feel like you have to now, Joel."

"I lied to you," he blurts.

I gulp a lump in my throat.

He grabs my hand, "when I said I didn't want you... I meant I didn't want you because I was scared."

"Scared of what?" I pull my hand away.

"Of slipping. I was slipping-- I am," he mutters, "you said it yourself, I'm an old man."

"Joel, be for"

"No, I'm not what I used to be."

I purse my lips.

"I'm not what I used to be," he repeats as he stands, placing his hands on my shoulders. He shakes his head and brings his hands up my body. They're shaky when they land on my face.

Joel's tears continue to wet his face, "if you only knew, honey... gosh, if you only knew," he wipes my own wet cheeks, "I'd lock you in my room and never let you out. I'd cuff you to my bed and never let you leave."

I knit my brows deeply at his words.

"I'd build you a house," he mutters like a secret. He pushes my hair back, "two floors, front yard with a garden, backyard with a pool, picket fence, pine tree."

I pull my head back. My face contorts.

"I'd've been the one to help you climb that mountain, you know, thrown you over my shoulder, egg you on for getting tired so quickly," he sniffles, "used to be like that."

"Joel..."

"And i used to carry her in my arms," he cuts, "...Sarah."

My breath hitches. I place my hands on his.

"I used to throw her in the air and spin her around," Joel sighs, "build her a tree house, build her a playground, then play with her. Just thinking about it now leaves me winded."

I shake my head, stepping towards him, "you don't have to do any of that. You don't need to. I didn't expect you to."

"No," he disagrees, "that's what you should expect," he blurts, "that's what I would have given you... that's what I would've-- what you should get."

I push his hands off me and sigh. I grab the ice pack that he left on the couch and put it on the side of his bruised face.

Joel watches me as I do this and presses his hands on mine before I pull away. "I'm sorry."

I still.

"I'm sorry it ended up this way. I'm sorry I hurt you first before I told you the truth. I thought it would be easier that way."

I chew on my lip and shake my head. I sigh and speak softly, "can you hold me, Joel?"

Joel doesn't hesitate. Hpulls me in. He pulls me into his arms.

And I missed him. I missed him so bad. Being in his arms made me realize I missed him even after he ripped my heart out. I miss him still. I want him so bad.

But my heart was still bleeding; it was still broken, so I only stayed for so long before pushing him away.

Joel watches me. He licks his lips.

I smile at him, "thank you for telling me the truth, Joel," I step away from him, "you shouldn't stay here long though. You should go out back and try not to show yourself to my brothers."

I motion my head to the side as I lead the way. Joel looks at me for a prolonged moment before following. I turn away from him and even my breath, unwilling to cry any further, not in front of him. I rub my arms as I stand in front of the door, thinking of something to say. When I do think of something, I open the door, "I can't take you back."

Joel stops.

I turn to him, eyes watering all over again, "at least... not now. Not so quickly."

He pulls the pack away from his face and opens his mouth. He says nothing for a moment, then he sighs, "I understand."

I step towards him and place the ice pack back on his face. I pull away, rub my eyes and ten step back, turning to the door, waiting fo him to pass.

Joel turns to his feet before walking out.

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 20 - Dave York

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Pairing: Dark!Dave York x afab!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, dddne, this is not the darkest thing I've written, but it is the darkest I've posted. Non-con piv, non-con knife play, reader gets cut, blood as lube, spit kink, spit as lube, degrading nicknames, restraints, Dave is MEAN, multiple slaps, literal abuse, stockholm syndrome vibes? Stuff im forgetting

Summary: Dave comes home after a rough day to find out that you didn't do the one thing he asked for.

A/N: Y'all, I want to like this one so bad, but I just read over it and I didn't think it was as good as I anticipated. 😭 Maybe it's just because I know I wrote it, or maybe I'm just tired out of my mind. Idk, I'll try to read it in the morning. Anyways, please keep in mind that this is a DARK FIC. If you don't like it, don't read it.

****

You’re sitting on the couch, idly watching TV when Dave gets home. You smile brightly, jumping up from the sofa to greet him at the door, resisting the urge to cross your fingers in hopes that he’s in a good mood. 

You had pampered yourself today, making yourself look soft and pretty, your hair shiny and perfectly in place. You had slipped on a dress that he had brought home a week or so ago as a reward. He’d been so happy and kind that week, and you’d felt so special with the way he paid so much attention to you. 

You hope that he’ll do the same again when he sees you like this, all dolled up just for him. Though it’s a reward enough just to know when you have his approval. 

“Hey, baby,” you say tentatively as you peak your head into the doorway. 

Dave turns around to look at you as he takes off his coat, his expression blank as he takes in your appearance. Your smile falters, though you try to keep it up. His eyes are dark, his jaw set with a particular hint of annoyance. He’s had a bad day. 

Ignoring the part of your brain that screams at you to go hide, you step toward him slowly. He doesn’t move as you approach, just continues to watch as you gently undo his tie and hang it up on the rack next to his coat. 

The air is thick with tension around the two of you as you look into each other’s eyes. Where your gaze is hesitant, exposing the fact that you have to put effort into not cowering in his presence, his is hard, revealing the fact that he gains something from your submission. 

You try so hard not to be afraid of him anymore, but you just can’t help it sometimes. He’s good to you when you’re good, only mean when he says you’re not. The only problem is that he seems to decide when you’re acting good or bad, even if you’re on your best behavior. 

Because of this, you’re in a constant state of reluctance and worried anticipation. You never know when he’s going to snap again. 

“D-Dave?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Do you want to talk–” 

“Would you shut the fuck up for just one second?” He’s quick to interrupt as he shoves past you and into the kitchen. You close your eyes, gulping down the sudden disappointment that bubbles in your throat. 

That’s okay, though. You’ll brush it off. You’re probably just over-reacting again. 

You sigh and spin on your heel to follow him into the kitchen. 

“Are you hungry? I can make you something if you wan–”

“Christ, woman! Do you have a damn off switch? If I want something, I’ll fucking tell you I want it.” 

You reel back at his harsh words, not expecting them quite this early. You open your mouth to comply, but the warning look he gives you makes you shut it and nod instead.

He moves to the sink, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands, when he stops abruptly in front of it. For a moment, you’re confused, but then you remember what you had forgotten to do today. Your eyes go wide and your stomach drops. 

“I ask you for one. fucking. thing,” Dave says, his back turned toward you. His voice makes you shudder, the tone much too low to mean anything good. He turns around now, fury in his eyes as he breaks under the last straw. 

“Useless goddamn bitch,” he slowly seethes, stalking toward you. Your breathing goes shallow, your body tingly as you watch him get closer, already knowing what's to come. 

You sink back, your ass hitting the floor as you scootch back until you hit the wall. You’re cowering, your body already shaking as you wrap your arms around your head and squeeze yourself into the tiniest ball possible. 

“Dave, please! I swear I didn’t mean to forget, IswearIswearIswear, please, I–”

You're cut off by your own scream as Dave yanks you up by your hair, your scalp stinging as strands rip from the force he uses to pull your face to his. You’re blubbering as he spits degrading remarks your way, far too panicked to hear everything he’s saying. 

You catch snippets here and there as you push against his chest, only serving to hurt your tender head more as he tightens his grip on your hair to keep you close. 

“Fucking dumb—can’t remember shit—Don’t even know why I keep you here—can’t even tell you to do the dishes–”

He just keeps going, every beration digging into your skin until you feel like you’re being coddled by razors. 

“D-Dave, Please–” you try to stop it, even though you know better. His hand comes down sharp across your cheek before you can even process it being raised. Your neck aches from the way it’s forced to the side, almost distracting you from the stinging pain coming from your reddening skin. 

You choke on a sob, your tears stopping momentarily from the shock. Through the ringing in your ears and the pain that spreads through your jaw, you register how your makeup has been messed up from your crying, and you almost want to laugh with how stupid of a thought that is. 

You don’t, of course, because Dave’s quickly pulling you back to reality with a firm hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes. Tears continue to run hot down your face as you let him move you, feeling too defeated at this point to try anything else. 

“You hear me, bitch?” He asks, giving your jaw a firm shake. You blink at him, forgetting at this point that you have the ability to speak at all. It’s not like he would hear you anyway. 

“Said I’m gonna get some fucking use out of you. Seems there’s only one thing a dumb whore like you is good for.” 

You just keep watching him, your expression fallen as you watch it happen. Again. What else can you do? It’s never helped to do anything else before. 

He snarls, clearly annoyed that you’re not giving him another reason to reprimand you. He stands to his full height, tossing you back to the floor as he does so. 

The back of your head knocks forcefully against the tile, and you feel your teeth rattle as the light above you starts to blur. You think faintly that you may want to move, but your body doesn’t want to comply. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 

You settle for blankly watching Dave as he tugs his belt through the loops before unzipping himself. His eyes stay on you the entire time, and you think you whimper at some point because of the smirk on his face. 

You hate the way your tears run thinly into your hairline, settling there uncomfortably, but you can’t be bothered to wipe them away. You’re tired, you just want to disappear. Unfortunately, you know you can’t do that, so you settle for the next best thing—staying still and silent in hopes that you can block everything out, dissociate yourself somehow. 

Your body jolts as Dave kneels down in front of you, pulling your hips closer to him. You must have been watching the light again, lost in your hazy thoughts. A pathetic sob slips through your lips, and you taste blood as they open. You must have bit your bottom lip when you hit the floor—or maybe it was split from the slap. You don’t know. Don’t care at this point. You just want this to be over. 

Vaguely, you register that it hasn’t even started. 

“You just going to lay there?” Dave points out more than asks as he reaches for your panties. “You really are damn stupid. Must want this, fucking slut.” 

Your eyes close tightly as you feel your panties get ripped in half. 

He’s right, you are stupid. Only a stupid girl would let this happen. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

The word repeats like a chant in your head, your eyelids tightening and your lips quivering. Your body shakes and shakes, it’s all it can do through the headache you’re starting to get from the screaming in your mind. 

Another harsh crack makes you gasp, trying pitifully to take a breath as you take in the fact that he just slapped you again. You feel it less this time, though you don’t know why. 

“Look at me,” he spits once your eyes are opened again. Hesitantly, you look into his eyes, trying with all your might to keep them open. It’s like a nightmare, and the only way you can escape is for you to shut your eyes. 

The only difference is that this is real, that even if you closed them, you would still be able to feel the way he notches himself at your entrance, still feel his threatening stare, still feel every ache and pain that he inflicts on your body. 

He grunts as he starts to shove his cock into your unprepared cunt, and your mouth falls open to squeal at the sudden burn between your legs. No sound comes out, your tongue thick and dry as sandpaper. 

He doesn’t stop you this time when your eyes screw shut in pain, your body squirming beneath him as you try to get away. Your fingers twitch, as if just now regaining the ability to move. 

Dave chuckles at you before pressing a hand to your abdomen and spitting onto your pussy, letting his saliva run down to where his cock is half-way disappeared inside of you. He repeats this action three times before there’s enough lubrication for him to slide the rest of the way in. 

“Tight little hole. All mine to ruin.” 

Dave grabs your face again, pinching your cheeks until you look at him through blurry eyes. As soon as they’re open, you can watch him spit on your face, already soaked from your own fluids. 

You heave, trying to control your breathing as he starts to rock in and out of you, keeping a firm grasp on your face. You need to let it happen, the sooner he gets what he wants, the sooner this is over. It needs to be over. Let it be over. 

His pace grows quicker and more harsh, a sob leaving you each time he punches into you with his thick cock. It hurts so much, always does when you’re dry like this. 

Suddenly, your arms are pulled above your head, Dave’s cock still shoved inside of you as he ties your wrists with the remnants of your panties. 

“I have something for you, slut,” Dave tells you, a tear slipping down your cheek as you keep trying to imagine yourself far away. 

That quickly becomes hard to do, because there’s suddenly a gross feeling coming from above your cunt and to the left. The feeling of your skin being sliced open. 

As soon as you realize what’s happening, a scream you didn’t know you had erupts from somewhere deep inside you. It’s full of an agonizing pain as your senses hone in on the way his pocket knife digs deeply. 

You know what he’s doing, what he’s threatened before. 

You know that the next time you look in the mirror, you’ll be able to see Dave York’s initials carved in front of your hip, deep enough to leave an ugly, jagged scar. 

Dave laughs as you scream and try to simultaneously move away and keep your body still. You don’t know what would be worse right now. 

It’s a white hot pain that courses through you as he moves on to the next letter, his movement sloppy from the way he still shallowly thrusts into you. The wetness of your blood dribbles down until it reaches his cock, making the glide easier yet as he pushes it back into you. 

He laughs even after your screaming stops, the shock taking over you and halting all reactions but the silent sobs that wrack your entire body. He pulls the knife away after a moment, after he’s sure he’s dragged the edge deep enough to be permanent.  

Your gaze focuses on the kitchen light again, and you can hear someone calling raspily for help. It’s weak and wet sounding, and you don’t quite understand where it’s coming from because you swear you’re not trying to say anything. 

“God damn,” Dave grits out. “Will you ever shut your whore mouth?” 

You suppose you do, because the sound stops, and the kitchen is filled with nothing but your whimpers and Dave’s moans. You can feel him getting close, the way he stutters and pulses. 

“Gonna come in this tight little pussy,” he grits, grinding himself down.

You don’t care what he’s going to do. You’d let him do anything to ensure that this will stop, that it won’t go on forever. You just want it to stop. 

You don’t realize he’s coming until he’s almost done. His seed stings as it hits your burning walls. 

You’ve stopped crying. Your throat’s dry, your eyes sting, your cheeks ache, your cunt throbs, your hips are littered with tender bruises, yet your mind is numb. 

Dave only lingers for a moment before he lifts off of you. He chuckles to himself as he says something, but you don’t think you could hear what even if you tried. Your hands fall limply away from each other as he uses his bloody pocket knife to cut away your restraints.

Your eyes close as he walks away, and you don’t try to open them again.

**** Thank you for reading, please lmk if you would like to join the countdown taglist <3

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Link to prompt list

[the-darklings]

“you have no idea how much i like you” and/or “ you were worth the wait” with wanderer/dream please???

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader (wanderer)

wc: 810

notes: i’m still travelling so if this sucks/doesn’t go in the tags because i’m posting this from my phone, it be like that. enjoy crumbs of soft and happy after the suckerpunch of part 7, and honestly to soothe pain of 8, 9…you get it : )

dream & wanderer series: part one | series masterlist | ao3 |

“I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. Deeply.”

Corinthian’s lips crook—every bit the absentminded acknowledgement that’s only that. Side by side, you amble the long distance to Dream’s castle. Passing him a narrowed-eyed glare that’s all squinting and playful glaring, you dig your elbow deeper into your coat pockets. Your elbow rams into his side anyway, twisting. The nightmare grunts, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. His palm slaps lightly over your forehead to slow you to his side. Your legs tangle beneath you, but you keep upright.

“I’m going to leave you here,” you grouse, struggling with a laugh, injecting surly gravity into your tone. “Next time I go, I’m leaving your ass behind.”

Corinthian chuckles, low and rich. “Sure thing.” A beat, then, “You won’t dare. You’re lost without me, dearest. Miserable.”

Syrupy sweet, and you hate him for it because he’s right, and you both know it, but he’s so damn arrogant about it that you itch with the urge to do it anyway. To wipe his smug little smirk. You’ve gotten so used to having Corinthian by your side, a constant, that you can hardly recall what the times before that were like. How pitiful you must have been travelling alone, drifting through eternity.

“Well, well…”

You follow Corinthian’s line of sight to find Dream at the bottom of the castle’s staircase. A solitary, dark figure. But unlike so many times before, he’s waiting for you. This time the Dreaming is bright and sunny, the air in your lungs sweet and light—content and brimming with the pure power of the Endless. Dream’s coat flutters in the slight breeze, patiently waiting. Even at a distance, you sense the spike of heat, want, twining of gentle longing—

“Go and be embarrassing,” Corinthian coos in your ear, slipping his arm off. “He looks, hm, miserable.”

You hold back a laugh because Corinthian is not wrong. Dream honestly does look a little miserable.

Wrapping your arm around the nightmare, you press a light peck against his jaw. “Hate you.”

Pure fondness drips from your words, your reflection visible in Corinthian’s dark shades when you pull back. He scoffs.

“Hate you more,” he returns snidely, waggling his fingers, already turning away. “I’ll see you at the island.”

You saunter towards the King of Dreams with deliberate slowness, fighting back a smile. There are traces, you think, of amusement reflecting in Dream’s eyes when you pause in front of him. For a long moment, neither of you speaks—there is no need for proclamations, no need for you to move closer, either.

Prodding, gentle sensation brushes over your cheek, your jaw, and behind your ear. In the land of dreams and imagination, scarce little obeys logic or reason—here, everything arises from the Dream Lord’s will. Right now, his intent is all but written in the stiff, controlled way Dream holds himself.

“You have a preference for tormenting me, stardust.”

Your slight grin grows at his soft declaration. “I’m three steps away from you.”

Cold fire burns from him, taking shape in the hot blaze of the sun above, in the way air swelters, needing—

“Three steps too far,” he breathes.

Smiling at the admittance, you venture forth, hands still in your pockets. You reach for each other simultaneously, leaning your foreheads together. Your smile is small, so joyful your eyes slip shut as you hold onto the shimmering, near-living lapels of Dream’s midnight coat.

“Hi.”

Dream tucks you a little closer, breathing in deep. Savouring, comes the realisation, savouring the closeness, the return, the love pulsing like tiny hummingbird wings between you.

“Are you well?” he asks.

You smile wider, errant strands from his shaggy, tousled hair teasing over your forehead. You can’t wait until later—when you drag your fingers through those unruly strands, alone and at peace in your chambers, drinking in every moment of contact between you. Where his seeking lips find your wrists, each knuckle; map slow, deliberate paths up your arm, lingering at the crook of your throat.

“I am now.” Your whisper fans across his lips. “You weren’t waiting too long, were you?”

Dream looks knowing. “Hob?”

“Yes, it’s been a while. We need to see him sometime, too. Cori was bristling the entire time, but he had fun. He’s just too proud to admit it—what?”

Dream’s hand settles on your cheek, large and cool against your warm skin, so you lean into the contact. A single touch from him wipes all thoughts and concerns from your mind. A thousand words are packed in Dream’s single glance, a single expression, a twitch of his lips, the gleam in his ancient gaze. But now, no longer lonely, no longer as exhausted or as apathetic, as cold as it once was.

“You were worth the wait, Wanderer.”

And nestled deeper beneath those words, you hear his tacit truth always.

[draguta]

.a court of ash and smoke | two.

pairing: lucien vanseera x fem!reader

summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.

chapter warnings: **MAJOR WARNINGS: SUICIDE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS ** non-con, dub-con, violence

chapter word count: 5237

a/n: I'm posting this a little earlier than intended (was aiming for a new chapter every 2 days) because I've apparently got a scheduled power cut tomorrow (in 40 degree heat - send me prayers). Enjoy folks!

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Ash Arrow

The first man from Amarantha’s court to grace your bed - the first man you had ever taken to bed - was not gentle. He had hit you so hard that your cheekbone bruised, and even your new High Fae strength was nothing compared to these centuries-old Fae. He had delighted in realising that you had bled shortly afterward, and had made quite the spectacle in telling everyone exactly how he had taken your virtue.

After around two dozen men had come and gone from your chambers, and weeks had passed by, you came to learn what it was that you had to do. They would come, take what they wanted, and leave nothing in return. They didn’t want anything sensual or passionate, there was no kissing or foreplay, they simply wanted to bury themselves for an hour or so, and you were the chosen place to do it.

By the next time Lucien had come to visit, you had become quite adept at pretending to be somewhere else, and the dark shapes behind your eyelids became your best friends, come to you every time a knock came at your chamber door and you closed your eyes, praying that it would be over soon.

It had been three months since Lucien’s initial visit, and this time he found you, not in that dank cell, but in the throne room. A High Fae from Hewn City had you sprawled in his lap whilst he swallowed down glass after glass of wine, his hand resting on your upper thigh - you were his property for the night, and damn anyone who might try to touch you.

“Give us a smile then,” the High Fae growled, looking you over. His friends chuckled low and dark. You didn’t speak, and you wouldn’t dare to, instead simply pulling at the sides of your lips until they resembled something close to a smile. You hadn’t smiled in months. You had very little to be joyful about down here under this mountain.

“Y/N?” Your name came as a whisper somewhere behind you, and you tensed at the voice, turning to find the youngest brother of the Autumn Court staring back at you in pure shock. “What are you doing?”

His face had gone deathly pale - as pale as a corpse - and his eyes were narrowed, lips a thin, straight line. The Fae who was currently providing your seat scoffed, glancing at his friends and then back at Lucien with a snarl. “Wait your own turn, Autumn. Unless you want to lose that other eye too.”

Lucien flinched ever-so-slightly, but didn’t make to reply. Instead, he turned back to you, leaning forward slightly. “I have business to attend to, but I’ll find you shortly, ok?”

You nodded, and watched as he hesitantly turned, almost as if he didn’t want to leave you with the Hewn City Fae, and slipped into the crowd.  You fought the urge to scream after him for him to take you with him, wherever it was he was going. That wouldn’t go down well with the Fae who’s lap I sat in, and definitely not with Amarantha.

He did keep his promise, however. Shortly after the Hewn City High Fae left your chambers, the soft knock sounded on my door, and you braced yourself for yet another client - you usually only had one per night, but sometimes another would sneak in during the late hours when the throne room party was dying down. However, when the door swung open, it wasn’t a client, but rather the red-headed emissary of the Spring Court.

He entered the room slowly and hesitantly, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed, just as he had done on your first day in the Spring Court. He averted his gaze when he realised that you weren’t properly covered, an issue that you fixed by wrapping the sheets around your chest.

“What are you doing?” He all-but snapped. You hadn’t been expecting to see the anger behind his eyes, nor for it to be directed at you. “What the fuck is this game you’re playing?”

“I’m doing what I need to do to survive,” you countered, echoing Rhysand’s words. “This was the only way.”

“No,” he snarled. “There were plenty of other ways to get out of that cell other than whoring yourself out to the entire court. We were-”

You let the bitter laugh that ruminated from the pit of your chest cut him off, glaring at him as you sat up and faced him, hand still holding those sheets over your naked form. “Perhaps you had a plan,” you snapped. “Maybe you would have found a way out for me. But it’s been three months, Lucien. Three months since you last came, and for all I knew, you were going to leave me down there. You were never going to come back!”

“You think that I would leave you there?” He hissed through gritted teeth. He glanced away again as you rose from the bed and threw a silk nightdress over your body, and you knew even as he glanced back and winced that it still wasn’t enough to properly cover you, the thin, light material practically see-through, and showing the entire length of your legs.

“I don’t know what you would do, Lucien,” I snapped back. “It’s not as if you didn’t make it perfectly clear during those months at the Spring Court that you would rather me gone. Perhaps leaving me here was your plan all along, to get me out of your way so that I didn’t bother you anymore.”

“Y/N,” he growled, and you could help but take a step back from him. That fire burning behind his eye was brighter than you had ever seen it before, stronger and harsher. He was furious with you, and you didn’t like to think what that entailed. “Did I not tell you that I would come here whenever I could?”

He moved to perch on the edge of the bed, fists clenched to white knuckles, frowning once he realised the act that had just been committed between those sheets, but he ignored it, and kept that firm stare on you. “When I told Tamlin that you were going to stay here, he was enraged. He trashed half of the house.” He let out a low and heavy sigh. “What do you think is going to happen when I tell him that you’re whoring yourself out to Amarantha’s entire court?”

“Right now, what Tamlin does is not my concern,” you muttered, moving to sit at the vanity, watching him through the reflection in the mirror. “I need to focus on surviving, on living.”

“You would call this living?” He countered, running a hand over the silk sheets of the bed. “Don’t you see that you are playing entirely into Amarantha’s hand? She wants to spoil you, wants to keep Tamlin angry, to tease and torment him, because she thinks that you are his lover.”

You paused, spinning in your seat to stare at him, mouth slightly agape. Suddenly, everything made sense. Everything that Amarantha had done became clear to you. She was using you to try and torture Tamlin, and this was simply another step in her plan. To see his lover be whored out to her court and know that he was powerless to stop it. Only, you weren’t his lover, and she had made a mistake. You were stuck there because of a mistake. Your stomach swirled in anger.

“But Rhysand said this was the only way,” you whispered, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “He said that this was the only way I could survive.”

“Rhysand told you that?” Lucien scoffed. “Surely you should have realised that Rhysand is Amarantha’s lap-dog. Anything that he says is only ever to benefit himself, or her. You can’t trust him.”

Your shoulders began to shake, just slightly, as the sobs wracked through your body one by one, waves of anger and sadness and frustration and mourning for what could have been, the life you could have lived at the Spring Court, washing over you inch by inch. You weren’t sure when you fell to the ground, when you crumpled onto your knees and began to weep, yet, to your surprise, two strong arms wrapped themselves around you, grounded you and comforted me. It was overwhelming, the information that he had given you was too much. You had gone through all of this simply because Amarantha had wanted to destroy Tamlin, and had thought that you - his supposed lover - was the best way to break him.

“It will be ok,” Lucien whispered soothingly, and you were too wrecked to even spare an ounce of surprise at his kindness. “I’ll come more often, I promise.”

“I’m a fool,” you choked out between sobs.

“Well, as much as I’m inclined to agree,” he smirked. “In this instance, I don’t think so. If you say this was the best way to keep you alive, then I believe you.”

You sniffled, wiping your nose on the back of your hand, and looked up at him. He was smiling - a real, shining smile that seemed to leech through the darkness and coldness of the room. And for some reason, you couldn’t help but reciprocate it. When he saw your smile, he nearly beamed.

“Keep your chin up, human,” he said softly. A calloused finger hitched itself under your chin and lifted it, just as he had said. “And don’t let them know how much it pains you to do this. They will only use it against you.”

“So I truly must stay this way?” You asked quietly. “I must remain as this…whore?”

“Unfortunately, you’ve already agreed to it,” he said solemnly. “There’s little I can do to stop it now.” He paused, twisting his lips in thought. “I will try - I promise you that - but I cannot say that my pleas won’t fall on deaf ears.”

With that, he rose to his feet, his hands on your shoulders pulling you with him. “Now, I have to go,” he said quietly. “I had to sneak past your guards to get in here, and I have to be out before they realise.”

Ah yes, Harden and Carson, the guards that Amarantha had stationed at the door to your chambers, and your two most frequent clients. You watched as Lucien made his way to the door, the gold of his dagger hilt shimmering in the candlelight. He paused, just for a moment, and turned back to you.

“Just remember,” he said slowly. “You can’t trust Rhysand. Don’t take anything he says at face value.”

You just nodded as he threw you one more sympathetic smile, only the second real smile you had ever seen from him, and disappeared back into the hall, the door clicking behind him as he went.

After that visit, Lucien began coming to the mountain once a month, frequently checking in on you, and bringing Amarantha news from the Spring Court - you could only hope that it was false information, and that he wasn’t actually selling Tamlin out.

His arrival would always be the same. You would be in the throne room, surrounded by drunk faeries, waiting for one of them to pick you from the crowd and claim you for the night. Lucien would stride through the door, parting the crowds and earning snarls of distaste from the other Vanserra boys, who you quickly worked out to be his older brothers. He would stop at the foot of the dais, and request counsel with Amarantha, and as they left, his eyes would scan the crowd to find you, offering you a reassuring nod that told you he would find you that night.

He had begun informing Harden and Carson that he was a client, hoping to be serviced by the court’s whore during his visit, and they would let him into your chambers without a second question. He would bring with him news of the Spring Court, only for your ears, and messages from Tamlin. Usually, those messages conveyed only that he missed you, his sister, a title that you had cemented together over those months, and that he would find a way to get you out and take you home. You weren’t sure, when he said home, if he meant the Spring Court or the mortal lands. At the end of each meeting, Lucien would be sure to ruffle his clothes and hair, and you the sheets on your bed and your own hair, lest someone question what you had been doing.

It wasn’t until six months later that Amarantha even realised that Lucien had been coming to your chambers during his visits at all. However, it was on one late evening that you finally realised she knew.

As always, Lucien entered the throne room as you hovered on the outskirts of the room, trying to cover your modesty in the skimpy dress that you wore as you usually did. Your eyes followed his figure as he strode through the room, an heir of unadulterated confidence, and stopped to kneel at the edge of the dais. “I bring news from the Spring Court,” he said, not looking up at Amarantha who lounged in her throne, a goblet of wine hanging from her thin fingers. “I beg an audience so that we may convene and discuss it.”

“Tomorrow,” Amarantha snarled. She leaned forward in her chair, peering down at the emissary. “For now, why not enjoy yourself? You work so hard, Lucien.” She smirked, those red lips curling into the malicious smile that you were so familiar with now. “I heard that you have quite the affinity for my favourite little pet whore. Why not let her show you a good time?”

Lucien’s shoulders tensed, but he bowed his head and rose to his feet, not another word uttered, before turning and scanning the crowd, the throne room now silent, until his golden eye landed on you. He strode toward you, and took your hand in his, making a move to depart through the parting crowd and retreat to the safety and relative comfort of your chambers. But Amarantha’s voice stopped him in his tracks, toxicity laced into every word.

“Leaving so soon?” She sneered. “Why not stay and enjoy the party for a while? I’m sure the whore can keep you company here.”

He winced and turned back to you, scanning your features as if to say, ‘if you’re not comfortable with this, we don’t have to, and I can make an excuse for us to go’. But you just nodded, and watched as his shoulders rose and fell with a shuddering breath. He led you now in the opposite direction, taking a seat at the table on the far side of the room. His legs spread ever so slightly, an invitation to sit, and whilst he grabbed your hips and pulled you down to him, his rough fingertips were still gentle against your skin.

Amarantha rose from her throne, clicking her fingers once to command that the others go back to what they had been doing, before taking slow steps down and long, floating strides toward us, coming to a pause before you. You flinched, but Lucien’s strong hands squeezed at their lingering presence on your hips, a silent comfort.

“I’m intrigued to know, emissary,” her voice snarled. “What does your High Lord think of you taking his lover to bed each time you come here?”

Lucien smirked, but you knew better than to think it was real humour he felt. “What Tamlin doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Amarantha’s sharp laughter echoed above the noise from the party. “Well then, I’ll ensure he never finds out.” Her dark eyes flashed, but Lucien simply tipped his head. She turned to the nearest servant. “Fetch some wine for our guest.”

“Two, please,” Lucien called, and the servant nodded, disappearing for a moment and returning with two goblets of wine. Lucien took one and handed you the other. The wine was the colour of blood, of Amarantha’s lips, of Lucien’s blood that day he had lost his eye.

“You plan to ply the whore with wine?” Amarantha smirked. “It is her job to do as you bid. You have no need to get her drunk first.”

Lucien let out a small chuckle, shooting me a sideways glance. “With the night that I’ve got planned for her, she’s going to need it.”

Amarantha laughed again, and the sound made my blood run cold. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you, emissary,” she leered. “Enjoy the party.”

Lucien nodded once more, and Amarantha left, but you knew that her eyes were still trained on you and Lucien, watching, studying calculatingly, noting every movement that you both made. You knew what she was doing - she was trying to catch us in our falsehood, to ensure that there were no lies being spewed to her, and that Lucien did in fact have every intention of taking you to bed.

You felt his breath, hot on your neck as he leaned into your ear and whispered, “Just play along. There are too many eyes watching.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. After a while his hand left your hips, repositioning you slightly so that you were no longer perched on the edge of his knees, but instead completely on his lap, flush against his broad chest. One hand snaked its way around your waist, and the other came to rest on your thigh, higher than you thought was necessary for appearance sake, but you didn’t dare argue. You allowed your own arm to slip around his neck, the other cradling your wine, which was emptied and refilled more times that night than you would care to admit to.

Your skin was burning hot, flushed and riddled with gooseflesh. The fear of being caught in your lie was enough to make every hair on the back of your neck stand to attention, especially when a faerie dressed in all-black, presumably from Hewn City in the Night Court, struck up a conversation with Lucien about what he planned to do with you that night.

You winced at the crude conversation, knowing that none of it was true, but even just hearing him speak of you that way was enough to twist your stomach into knots. Lucien’s grip on your thigh tightened and released, tightened and released, his way of telling you that it wasn’t true, that he was just playing a part and he meant none of it. And you knew that already, but it didn’t stop you from downing two more glasses of faerie wine, and allowing the sweet drunken bliss to take over.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes, taking in his scent. He smelt like the forest after a light rain, like apple cider and cinnamon, and you let the smell envelope you, let his arms hold you in place. The first moment of peace and tranquillity that you’d found since arriving Under the Mountain, and it had come from Lucien of all people.

You could still barely wrap your head around it, how it was he who came so regularly to check on you, he who made you feel better, he who protected you. He had once hated you so much, had resented you and loathed you being in the Spring Court - perhaps he still did. Maybe his words on his first visit had been true, that he simply didn’t think anyone deserved this, not even you. Either way, you were grateful for him, and grateful for the small semblance of normality that came with him.

You felt his hand hook under your legs, pulling them over his thighs, allowing you to nestle closer to him, so close to sleep that had evaded you for so long, finally feeling safe enough to let it overtake you.

When you woke the next morning, you were tucked into your bed, and Lucien was nowhere in sight. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he was gone, that the only friend you had in this wretched place, no matter how unlikely, had left without a word. Not that you had expected him to stay. He would never have done such a thing, if only for fear of Tamlin’s wrath should he ever find out that his emissary had spent the night in your chambers, even if only for appearances, and even if nothing would have actually happened.

Yet, you found yourself longing for that smell of him, that feeling of safety that he provided. Lucien, despite himself, despite his hatred to you, had become the only form of kindness that you received, and had quickly become the lesser of two evils. You could deal with Lucien’s snarky remarks and cold glares, even if they were few and far between now, if it meant that you were kept away from Amarantha, and away from her sickening court for even just one night.

He was your safety net now, and as much as you hated that it was him, and as much as he surely thought the same, he was all you had left.

Three years passed by in the blink of an eye, and yet nothing changed. You remained chained to that bed, and remained Amarantha’s loyal little pet whore. Lucien’s visits became more infrequent, citing problems in the Spring Court as the reasoning, and you felt the loneliness slowly taking over, wrapping you in its darkness. You began to fall in on yourself, to refuse food, leaving you nothing more than skin and bone - it always came up after your clients left anyway. You stopped speaking, no longer pretending to be that good little servant to your clients, who feigned laughter at their jokes and faked pleasure in bed. You no longer made any effort with anyone at all. You became a shell of yourself, and everyone could see it.

When, to your surprise, Rhysand came to visit you, appearing in a cloud of dark shadows inside your chambers without so much as a knock on the door, you hadn’t seen Lucien in nearly five months. Rhysand looked you over, curled up on your bed, wrapped around yourself. You didn’t even so much as spare him a glance.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he muttered. It was the first time he had come to your room since the day he had shown you this prison. “Amarantha isn’t happy with how you’re acting. The court’s men are complaining.”

“Go to hell.” It came out in no more than a whisper, your voice aching at the first use for months. Rhysand chuckled.

“I think it’s too late for that. We’re already here,” he stated, circling the bed to crouch down in front of you. You didn’t allow your eyes to focus on him, his face a blur of dark skin and violet eyes and black shadows. “You need to eat something.”

“Why do you care?” You growled out.

“You’re right,” he said, throwing his hands into the air. “I shouldn’t care. Except that I do. I gave a lot to get you this position, to get you out of that cell and save your life. Now you’re throwing away all of my hard work.”

You didn’t grace him with an answer, and he simply tutted his tongue, running a hand through his dark locks. “If Amarantha thinks that you are no longer of use, what do you think will happen?” Again, no answer. “She’ll kill you.”

“Then let her,” you mumbled, fighting back a sob. “Lucie was right, this isn’t living anyway.”

Rhysand groaned in frustration. “Do you think your little emissary would be happy if you were killed?” He snapped. “Do you think your High Lord would be pleased?”

“He’s not my High Lord, and Lucien isn’t my emissary,” was the only reply that you could muster. Rhysand groaned again, but seemed to give up fighting. He knew as well as you did that there was nothing he could do to change your mind.

“Well, if you’re really not going to eat anything, then prepare yourself,” he stated blandly, rising to his feet. “You’ve got an important client coming to visit.”

And then he was gone.

The important client in question was a High Fae from the Autumn Court, and as soon as he entered your chambers you knew him to be one of Lucien’s brothers - the second eldest, if you were correct in your thinking. He hovered by the door awkwardly, as if not sure how to proceed, and you lounged on the bed. You watched him, but didn’t move to bring him closer to you, didn’t spread your legs or edge him into your bed. He pulled off his bow and quiver and placed them on the vanity table, before slowly moving closer to the bed.

It was fast, and messy, and painful, but you kept still, allowing him to take from you whatever he needed, as so many others had done before. It wasn’t until the final few thrusts that you allowed your eyes to open and focus on the mirror across from you, drawing them down to the quiver on the table. Your heart nearly stopped.

Ash arrows.

You knew the stories, that ash arrows were the only way to kill a faerie. Perhaps they would be your salvation, would be your ticket to freedom. The Vanserra brother finished with a growl, rolling off you, muttering something about cleaning himself up, before disappearing into the washroom. You moved quickly and quietly while he was gone, unsure of how much time you had left before he came back. You pulled one of the ash arrows from the quiver, studied it as it sat heavy in your palm for a moment, and slipped it under the mattress, sliding back under the covers, pulling the sheets up to cover my modesty.

The red-head appeared again, and quickly dressed, grabbing his weapons, not noticing the missing arrow. He threw you one last sneer over his shoulder, and made a promise that he would return later in the week. Little did he know that you would be here.

You had hoped that the ash arrow would kill you the second that you plunged it into your stomach, but little did you know that those stories you had grown up on were greatly exaggerated.

It was Lucien that found you. You hadn’t even known that he was Under the Mountain that day, but even through the haze of blood-loss, you could still hear his shouts and cries and wails, could still feel his arms pull you into his lap, his blood-sticky fingers pushing the hair away from your face as he practically begged you to come back, for his sake, for Tamlin’s sake.

A sharp pain erupted through your stomach as the ash arrow was pulled from your body, but you didn’t even flinch, not enough energy to even register the pain. The metallic stench of magic filled your nostrils, and even in your disorientation, you knew that Lucien was trying, and failing to heal you. And then there was another voice, lower than Lucien’s - Rhysand.

They worked in tandem, another wave of metallic magic flooding your nostrils, masking the bitter stench of your own blood as two sets of magic worked to heal the gaping wound in your abdomen. Something dripped on your cheek, blood that had coated the ends of Lucien’s hair and now fell to my face.

Their voices became more distant, foggier and muted, as you wandered closer to that light, to the end of the line.

You didn’t die. You found out later that Lucien had stayed Under the Mountain as you recovered, and had stayed in your room every day until you woke up. Rhysand hadn’t returned, however, but you couldn’t help but consider what Lucien had said about him, about how he couldn’t be trusted. If he had truly been working against you, would he have helped save your life? Maybe it was simply a means to an end, to keep you alive so that you could keep up this charade, and play out his and Amarantha’s plan, yet after that day you had a new-found respect for him.

Lucien was still there when my eyes fluttered open, taking in that same bed-chamber, almost coughing out a cry when you realised that your own plan had failed, and you were still stuck in that prison. He rushed to your bedside as soon as he saw that you were awake, the mattress dipping with his weight as he sat down.

“Y/N?” He whispered the question. You allowed your blurred eyes to fall to him, noting the relief on his face, a peculiar stance for someone who had hated you so much. And yet, you could only assume that he no longer loathed you, for if he did, surely he wouldn’t have spent so much time there, so much time checking on you and protecting you. Surely he wouldn’t have saved your life, wouldn’t have been such a frantic mess when he saw the blood pouring from the wound made by the ash arrow that had been protruding from your gut. In truth, the hatred that you had once felt for him had dissipated too. You didn’t despise him anymore, much to your own surprise, because he was the only kindness that you still had left. He was the only one who seemed to care. “Thank the Cauldron!”

It only took a second for your features to contort and crinkle, eyes screwed shut as the sobs wreaked through your body. Lucien simply pulled you closer to him, and held you as you cried, as you mourned and grieved for your own worthless existence.

“It didn’t work,” you sobbed into his chest.

“I know,” he whispered into your hair. “You’re lucky I was here, and that Rhysand of all people helped.”

“Lucky?” You cried. “You think I’m lucky? I wanted that ash arrow to kill me, I wanted it to end my miserable life! I can’t live like this, Lucien! I can’t do it anymore!”

He pulled back, face pale with shock as he searched your features, brows furrowed. “Y-You mean you did that to yourself?” You let out another choked sob, nodding your head. “Aeryn got thirty lashes for that.”

Aeryn, his brother from the Autumn Court, the one you had stolen the ash arrow from. And it all came down to that; here, under this mountain, your life was worth only thirty lashes against his back. But Lucien didn’t speak of it again, not when you let out another shaking gasp surrounding a wailing sob, and he pulled you back into his chest and rocked you gently. You let that scent - his scent - envelope you once more, just as it had that day in the throne room, and allowed it to comfort you into calmness.

Lucien returned to the Spring Court a few days later to inform Tamlin of what had happened and assure him that you were ok. That, much to your own despair, you were still alive.

And so, your life returned to what it had been. When you were strong enough to return to your duties, the men began knocking on your door once more, and you returned to despising your own existence.

[gothgril69]

Helsinki — levi ackerman/reader (posted to ao3)

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact

tags : alternateuniverse!cyberpunk, you're a netrunner, levi is a corpo, fixer kenny, levi makes you cum with your clothes on, top!leviackerman, protective!leviackerman, soft!leviackerman, gentledom!leviackerman, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, claiming, creampie, smut, technically a sad ending, i cried

word count : 9.2k

summary : Levi rescues you from your bad situation with your fixer Kenny. You just didn't expect to fall in love with him.

Helsinki: the one place on earth the nuclear war didn't reach.

The first time Levi sees you is on the subway on his way to work. He can’t take his eyes off you; the way the black bodysuit you’re wearing clings to your skin, the way your thigh high boots squeeze your thighs just right. But that’s not what captures his attention most – you’re pickpocketing people.

He can’t spot any chrome on you, but you do have an undercut and he immediately pins that you’re a Netrunner. It doesn’t make sense why you would be pickpocketing people if you were. He watches you work, silently walking by unsuspecting people as you grab something out of their pockets, even sometimes ejecting their chipware if they’re oblivious enough. He hopes you’re not brave enough to come near him, but he wouldn’t blame you if you tried.

You seem daring enough to approach someone who appears to be a regular corpo minding his business on his way to work, but Levi is anything but. He remembers being in your position a few years ago, only owing his success now to Erwin after he got caught trying to eject his chip with no chrome to help him out. Erwin had spun around immediately, using his Gorilla Arm to pick up Levi like he was a rag doll before he could even get the chip out.

Now he was on his way to work for the man.

You make a sudden move that catches Levi’s attention. You’re moving to get off the subway and he ignores his urge to follow you, to see what you’re going to do with everything you’ve stolen, but he remains in place – he has work.

—

You hop out of the subway doors, landing on the platform and pushing your way through the crowd of people waiting to get on. It was a busy travel day – perfect for looting to sell to the big guy. Managing to snag a couple chips should ensure that he’s happy with you, that he won’t skimp out on the eddies he owes you so you can actually pay rent this month.

You look around before sneaking through a back alley to avoid the cameras all over the streets. This is one of the only dark zones you know of and it just so happens to be where Kenny is located and waiting for you. You slip through the metal door after scanning your wrist, ensuring you’re not being followed.

“About time you damn brat,” Kenny rasps from the other room. You roll your eyes, ignoring the attitude you always receive when you know he’ll be happy to see you anyway.

“Managed to snag a couple chips,” you state, emptying your pockets on the table in the middle of the room. A couple chips, some corpo wallets they still carry around, and some small knives you managed to grab off of one guy. Kenny comes up behind you, placing his hands on your hips so your ass is rubbing against his crotch – you refrain from kicking him in the balls, used to how handsy he gets when you visit.

“You really earned it this time, doll,” he rasps in your ear, tucking a strand of your hair behind as he does.

“You owe me five thousand eddies, Kenny,” you state, turning around to face him. He puts his hands on the table behind you, closing you in his arms like a cage.

“You’re gettin’ greedy now, aren’t ya?” He smirks down at you, his face merely inches away from your own as his Kiroshi Optic Eye stares back at you.

“It’s just what you promised,” you state plainly, managing to hide the attitude that wants to creep forward so badly.

He sighs and backs off of you – you release a quiet breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He turns around and rummages through a metal bin in the corner of the room, but you can’t tell what he’s looking for.

“I got a new Netdriver for you,” Kenny states. You internally groan, knowing immediately where this is headed. “Arasaka Mark Four. You know this shit is hard to get.” He turns around to face you, a small red chip between his fingers like he’s holding a cigarette. “I’ll give you four and you’ll do some netrunning for me to get two more.”

“Kenny,” you groan, “I need the five eddies now. I got rent to pay you bastard.” 

“You hardly brought me anything. It’d be two if those chips weren’t sittin’ there,” he drawls.

You clench and unclench your jaw, relenting and stomping over to Kenny. You snatch the chip from between his fingers. “Let’s get this shit over with.” You ignore the dirty smirk on his face and walk to his back room where he’s got his set up, three monitors staring you in the face and a chair for you to lie on while he hooks you up. “You should be paying me more for this shit,” you snap at him and lay down on the chair with a scowl directed his way.

“We both know you ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he laughs.

You don’t comment on how wrong he is. You’re going to get the hell out of Night City if it’s the last thing you do and Kenny will burn without you. He slides his wheeled stool behind you and pops the chip into your neck where your hair is usually laying and lifts up the panel where your undercut is to hardwire you in. Your eyes gloss over when you connect, and you sink into darkness.

—

Levi sees you again on the same subway two weeks later, but this time you’re focused on getting chips and he assumes your fixer wasn’t too happy with your loot last time. You’re being quicker about it and simply ejecting them as you walk by without lingering as much as you did last time. It looks like you’ve got some kind of device in your wrist that lets you hover over their neck and pull it out without even trying. He doesn’t recognize it, something from the streets that wasn’t around a few years back and definitely nothing Militech rated.

You still haven’t made a move on him and he wonders if you’ve even noticed him or if you’ve determined he’s not worth the risk since he’s an obvious corpo. His tailored black suit and polished dress shoes give it away, along with his crisp undercut that he always keeps styled the way he likes it. Levi has always been this way; clean and polished. It’s helped him more times than he can count when he was running like you.

The subway stops and you’re moving to get out again – this time Levi follows you. He can’t ignore the urge after seeing you a second time and calls Erwin as he’s stepping off.

“Levi?” Erwin answers immediately – Levi rarely calls.

“I’m going to be late. Something came up,” he doesn’t bother with an excuse, too focused on keeping an eye on you. You’re wearing a black cropped jacket today and you’ve put the hood over your head, hiding your features, but he’s already observed you enough to remember your intriguing appearance. 

“You okay?” Levi hears shuffling on the other line, assuming Erwin is packing his stuff in case he needs help.

“I’m good. Don’t interrupt your own shit. I’ll be there soon.” Levi hangs up the phone before he can respond.

—

You’re practically running at this point. You’ve gained the attention of a fucking corpo and he’s on your ass – he thinks he’s being stealthy, but you feel like he’s breathing down your neck. Your hood is up, hiding the Arasaka chip Kenny had left in your neck and you’re trying your best to act as if the man behind you isn’t freaking you the fuck out.

You spot an alleyway that you know has a blind spot and make an abrupt turn, hoping he’ll follow you inside. You spin around when you feel his presence close in, a dagger gripped in your hand. He stops in place as soon as you spin around and raise your dagger in attempts to press it against his neck and question him, but he quickly blocks it with his arm, your dagger coming into contact with metal – he’s got chrome, and he’s smart enough to fucking hide it.

You drop your dagger into your other hand and flip it so you can try and slash at him, causing your hood to fall back onto your shoulders as he grabs your wrist so hard the dagger drops to the ground.

“Stop,” he grits out, squeezing both of your wrists and looking at you with a dark rage in his eyes.

You stop struggling, realizing your own strength is hopeless to whatever chrome he has going on underneath that suit. “Why are you following me?” you snap, eyebrows furrowed with anger. 

“I just wanna talk,” he supplies unhelpfully.

“Why should I talk to some corpo scum?” you scoff at him. He’s still holding your wrists painfully hard – you know you’ll bruise, but you keep your expression vexed.

“Who’s your fixer?” he ignores your insult, instead scowling when you start struggling again.

“Let me go, you fucking gonk,” you spit at him. You try to hide your surprise when he actually does, stumbling back slightly with wide eyes and looking up at him.

“I know you’re not a fucking joytoy, and you sure as hell aren’t a weefle,” he states as he crosses his arms and stares you down. “So who the hell is your fixer?”

“Why the hell do you care?” You cross your arms defiantly – you’ll die before you rat Kenny out, or else you’ll be dead anyway. “You don’t look like you work for Arasaka, and it’s definitely not Militech, so who the fuck are you?”

He ignores your questions again – you’re getting really tired of that. “You’ve been chippin’ people on that subway since two weeks ago. Just give me his handle – not like I know where every fixer in this city is.”

You stare him down. He’s clearly not a normal corpo – he has too many skills to be one – and he’s been watching you without you even realizing it. For all you know he could know where Kenny is anyway. “What’s your name?” you ask instead, avoiding his question now. If he wants you to trust him you’re going to need a hell of a lot more information.

“Levi,” he states plainly, without hesitation. “Yours?”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Ace.” Nobody calls you by your real name anymore anyway.

Levi pauses for a moment. “Ace. If you don’t want to tell me who your fixer is then come with me instead.”

“Now I know you’re fucking delusional,” you laugh. “You think he won’t have my head for missing one of my meetings? I’m already late because of you.”

“Fine. I’ll give you five thousand eddies to meet me at Riot tonight,” he promises.

You can’t help it when your jaw drops. “I’m not a member, if you haven’t guessed already, and five thousand eddies is a little fucking ridiculous just for me to meet you there. What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he smirks at you. “I’ll send twenty-five-hundred now and you’ll get the second half when I see you there – plus whatever you want to drink or eat, on me.”

You scowl at him and press on the chip in your neck, sending your information to him so he can send you the money as you shove past him. Worst case, you get some eddies and you don’t have to do any netrunning today for Kenny and you just won’t show up to collect the rest.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he tells you as you round the corner and go into the streets.

—

It’s stupid, really. You shouldn’t even be entertaining Levi’s request of meeting him at Riot, a snobby bar practically made just for the corpo nightlife, but at least it was a public location with decent security.

You debated it all day in your tiny box apartment, sitting on your window sill and staring at all the city lights and advertisements that seem to flash nonstop. Five thousand eddies was a lot for you. It would take care of your rent for a month and you’ve already paid this month’s so you were guaranteed at least another here. You didn’t have to netrun for Kenny today and even though he looked at you with such skepticism in his eyes when you turned him down, he simply shrugged and told you he’d get his second best to do it – apparently there’s no one that could ever replace you.

Now here you were, walking down the streets on your way to Riot with a long, black trench coat over the outfit you decided to wear tonight. A tight fitting, black sleeveless cropped top hugs your torso, it’s collar flipped down and pressed thanks to the extra money you could spare because of Levi. Your black leather pants cling to your body, flattering every curve and making your ass look great once you would inevitably take your coat off. You paired it with a pair of heels and hoped you looked like you could pass for a corpo’s hot date tonight.

You spot him immediately. Levi is leaning against the wall right next to Riot, not even bothering with standing in the long line by the entrance. He’s more casual instead of his usual full suit, but he still wears a tailored black dress shirt that’s tucked into black slacks, motorcycle boots on instead of those polished dress shoes. He looks handsome now that he isn’t trying to fight and question you, and you feel butterflies in your stomach from your anxiety when he looks up from his phone at you.

“You clean up well,” he comments as soon as you approach him.

“Bold of you to assume I usually don’t” you sass back.

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t already know,” he rebuttals. “Take the compliment.” He holds out his arm for you to take after pushing himself off the wall.

You hesitate before you slip your arm through his and he guides you to the bouncer at the door. He doesn’t even speak, he just simply moves to the side and allows Levi to pass through with you on his arm as if it were nothing.

The interior of Riot is dim, only atmospheric lighting allowing you to see the stage and the bar where Levi is guiding you. You fit in decently enough with the outfit you decided to wear tonight as you glance around at all the corpos that are talking too loudly and drinking too much to even bother sparing you a look. You feel so out of place; the posh atmosphere is much different from the clubs you’re used to.

Levi leads you to a table in the very back corner of the bar where a large man with blonde hair and striking blue eyes is waiting for you, eyeing you up as the two of you walk. “You fuckin’ set me up,” you hiss into Levi’s ear. You should have been smarter about this, you should have had someone scope out the area before you arrived, but how would you have known this man would be someone Levi knew. Fuck. You fucked up.

“I didn’t. Relax,” Levi mutters back to you. He releases his hold on your arm and instead wraps his arm around your waist, pressing his fingers into your hip as you approach the table. What the fuck is he playing at right now?

“Ah, Levi,” the blonde man greets from the table. A waitress drops off three glasses of champagne, and one neat glass of scotch. She smiles sweetly at him as she lets him know what she’s brought. “I see this is our guest. Please, take a seat. I got your usual.”

Levi has you slide into the booth first, much to your dismay, and slides in after you, reaching for the glass of scotch on the table and holding the glass by the rim. He slides you the glass of champagne and you switch it out for a different one, only accepting to drink it since you watched the waitress place them down.

The man takes a sip of his own, so you do the same once you see it’s safe. “Smart girl,” he praises, “but we would never do that to you. Clearly, Levi hasn’t been very upfront with you.”

“He hasn’t told me shit,” you snap.

He looks at you with an amused expression, and then at Levi. “Well, I can see why you were drawn to her.”

“Get on with it Erwin,” Levi sneers. Erwin. You weren’t expecting so much hostility from Levi to be directed at him.

“Alright,” Erwin sighs and turns back to you. “Levi wants to help you out. Get you out of that shit situation you’re in just like I did for Levi a few years back.” Your jaw goes slack, falling open and looking over at Levi. “I see he didn’t get that far. Never mind that, that’s his business. The point is that you’re probably working for some scumbag fixer and you need out before you’re dead on the street somewhere.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, and then Levi. Their assumptions of you are right, that you do this just to survive, but you’re damn good at what you do and you’ll be out of here before you’re dead.

“We’re not asking you to work for us, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Levi supplies.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask skeptically. You’ve noticed not a single person has wandered back here for a nearby table and it makes you wonder just how much influence a man like Erwin must have.

“Nothing. Levi will take care of you, I’ll provide him with a little extra ED’s, and you’ll be out of your shithole apartment and taken care of.”

You scoff. “Why the hell would you do that? What’s in it for you?” You’re sitting there with your arms crossed, drink untouched now and on the defensive. This is too good to be true – nothing comes without a catch.

“Levi says you’re a netrunner, and clearly a good one if you haven’t been kicked out on the street by your fixer. If you decide you want to work for me I’ll take it, but if not then you can just live your life.” Erwin is looking at you with such unwavering confidence it almost makes you angry. He’s assuming you’ll just accept his proposal.

“What the fuck do you get for it?” You nod your head towards Levi. Erwin stands from the table, capturing your attention for a moment as he excuses himself before you snap your head back to Levi.

“You remind me of myself,” he bluntly states. “You don’t look like you do this because you enjoy it. You look like you’re waiting for the best break of your life to approach you every time you get off that subway.”

“I can’t accept this,” you mutter. “My fixer will kill me. This makes no sense.”

“Who’s your fixer? Give me a handle and I’ll help you,” Levi promises. You’re looking into his eyes now, flitting back and forth and searching for any dishonesty in them. They’re a warm grey, pupils large with the dim lighting of Riot illuminating his features, and you can’t see a single speck of insincerity in them.

“‘The Ripper’,” you mutter to Levi.

—

Levi’s eyes go wide, looking at you with disbelief. Of course you would be working for Kenny. The one man Levi hoped he would never have to see again in his life is the man that’s holding you hostage as a netrunner for him. He doesn’t know what to do, but he knows Erwin will – he knows he can do at least something to help you, but once you go against Kenny you’ll have to be in hiding so he doesn’t flatline you.

“You work for Kenny,” Levi states, furrowing his eyebrows.

Your eyes widen as you look back at him. “How..?”

“Same fixer. He’s uh–” He clears his throat, ashamed to admit it. “He’s my uncle. The bastard is a fucking gonk and will use you until you’re dead.”

“I know,” you mumble and reach for your glass of champagne, downing it in one go. Levi does the same with his scotch.

“I’ll get you out of there,” Levi states and settles a hand on your thigh, you bristle slightly before relaxing into his touch. “Erwin will know what to do.”

—

You’re running. You’re running as fast as you can with three chromed out guys following right on your tail through the streets of the city that Kenny sent after you. You knew he wouldn’t take the news lightly; that his best netrunner was going solo and that you didn’t need his eddies anymore.

Levi told you to meet him down the street as soon as you broke the news and that’s where you were running now, pushing through the crowds of people and getting cussed out as you did. You spot him at the end of the street next to a barricade for construction and you feel like you could cry from relief. He revs his motorcycle once you're close and tosses you the extra helmet he brought and you climb on the back, throwing on the helmet over your head and frantically rushing to hold onto his waist as he peels off. 

You’re hugging him so tight as he speeds down the street you almost feel bad, but you can’t help but rest your head on his back as you catch your breath. He places a hand over yours that’s on his abdomen, rubbing his thumb back and forth. His voice sounds in your helmet, “Kenny’s goons?”

“He didn’t exactly approve of his best netrunner leaving,” you tell him, slightly panting from running. “He doesn’t know you’re involved. Can’t imagine the reaction if he did.”

“Good. You got your important shit from your apartment?”

“Yeah,” you sigh and lift your head off of his back to look around – you’re headed into the city center. “You really live the high life now, don’t you?”

“It’s safe,” is all he replies with, removing his hand to place it the handle of his bike again to shift gears and speed up. Kenny’s guys are long gone, but who knows how many eyes and ears the man has.

Levi pulls up in front of one of the biggest buildings in Night City and turns into the underground parking garage to park. He turns his bike off and removes his helmet and you don’t realize you haven’t let go until he’s using his own hands to coax yours off of his abdomen. “We’re here. You’re safe,” he practically coos. Levi gets off his motorcycle after kicking the kick stand out and helps you off, removing your helmet once you’re standing. 

His hair is ruffled and out of place compared to the last time you saw him, cheeks flushed from the helmet pressing into them. He sets down the helmets on his bike and reaches out to your face to brush off the stray hairs that plastered themselves there, feather light fingers softly grazing your skin. He nods his head towards the door behind him and grabs your hand to guide you through the doorway – there’s an elevator inside. Levi scans his wrist to summon the elevator, not letting go of your hand once.

The elevator ride takes about five seconds before you’re on the top floor of the building – a penthouse suite. You keep your composure despite feeling like a sewer rat inside of his perfect apartment. There’s a loft area right above the entrance and a decent size kitchen to your right with the living space on your left that’s been placed on a sunken floor. It’s immaculately clean and slightly industrial with wood accenting the dark metals.

“I only have one bed, but I don’t sleep much so it’s all yours,” Levi suggests as he takes his shoes off at the entrance and moves to walk up the stairs. You do the same, removing your thigh high boots and revealing your bare legs and small socks. He looks you up and down for a moment, so fast you almost miss it, and begins climbing the stairs – you’re quick to follow. “I’m sure you want a shower,” he starts, “I’m not sure how many clothes you brought, but I have something you might want to change into.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks,” you say softly once you step onto the second floor with him.

“Showers in there.” He points to the only doorway on the second floor. “Use whatevers in there if you don’t have anything, and then uh… Come have a drink with me when you’re done.”

“Okay,” you squeak out. You feel like an intrusion on Levi’s personal space. You’re still trying to rack your brain on why he would do this for you.

He pulls a drawer out from under his platform bed and pulls out a black shirt and a pair of black boxers from a different drawer – you feel bad that you’ll be wearing his under garments. “These should fit you.” He hands you the clothing and begins to make his way down the stairs.

“Thank you,” you mutter softly.

—

Levi can’t seem to figure you out still. One moment you’re putting up a fight, practically snapping at him with razor sharp teeth, and the next you’re timid and shy, speaking to him with such softness he can barely hear you. He pours himself a glass of scotch as he waits for you to shower and wishes he could make you feel more comfortable.

It’s only a few moments later when you walk down the stairs, hair slightly damp still, but you’re clothed in his shirt that covers the boxers he gave you. You look even more beautiful than you normally do.

“Preference?” he asks, referring to his collection of alcohol where he’s set up a mini bar by the kitchen to distract himself.

“Scotch is fine,” you gesture towards his glass. Levi is positive you don’t know your alcohol.

“Ice?”

“Sure.”

He grabs a square ice cube and drops it into a short glass so he can pour the scotch over it. You’re still standing near the stairs, fiddling with your thumbs, when he turns around to hand you your glass. “Oi,” he grabs your attention, causing your head to snap up to look at him. “Come here.”

You slowly walk over to him, practically looking like a caged animal, and Levi meets you halfway in front of the large floor to ceiling window of the main area. He hands you your glass and you nod in thanks, taking a timid sip from the glass. Levi can’t help but smirk at you when you let out a small cough from the liquor.

You walk to the window with your glass in hand and Levi frowns. “I still don’t understand.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to offer you a better reason,” Levi responds easily. He can’t quite pin the reason himself, why he would go to these lengths to get you out of your shitty situation. There were plenty of people working for fixers as bad as Kenny, but for some reason he just felt drawn to you. You reminded him of himself, that look on your face when you think no one is watching tells him everything he needs to know. You want more for yourself, you want more than to scrape by in this hellhole of a city and Levi wants to be the one to give you everything you could ever deserve and more. He barely knows you, but he wants you to get comfortable with him; confide in him if you need to. He’ll easily take care of you and maybe you’ll make a name for yourself in Erwin’s company just like he has.

“I don’t want to let you or Erwin down if I don’t decide to join the company,” you sigh and take a seat on his floor, disregarding the couch that’s a mere five feet behind you.

“I don’t expect you to know what you want right now.” Levi downs the rest of his glass, setting it down on his kitchen counter before taking a seat next to you – on the floor of all places.

You look over at him, a certain gleam in your eyes. “I do know what I want.” You look away, out at the sparkling city lights now that the sun was going down. “I want to get out of Night City. Live as a Nomad or something, maybe even move to Helsinki where it’s not such a nightmare.”

“Those are big goals,” Levi sighs. “How would you do it?”

“I’d figure it out,” you mumble and grab the glass by the rim like Levi usually does and down your scotch in one go. You cough a bit just like Levi expected you to, but you keep your composure enough and set your glass down on the floor. He realizes you don’t have a plan – you’re just searching for an end to your misery.

Levi hesitantly reaches out and turns your face towards him with two fingers on your jaw. “You’re such a lost soul,” he mutters, gazing deeply into the colors of your irises. “Please, let me help you find it.”

—

You hear the elevator doors open and close, signaling that he’s home. “Levi!” you shout from the bed, frantically getting up to bound down the stairs.

“Do anything fun today, brat?” Levi acknowledges you with a glance as you practically run down the stairs, eager to get to the takoyaki he promised he would pick up on his way home from work.

“I crushed up my Arasaka chip,” you beam at him, proud that you’ve finally done it after a few months of living with him, and dig into the paper bag he had set on the counter.

“That should have been done earlier,” he chides and smacks your hand away from the bag. “Go sit. I got it.”

You smile and make your way to the couch, knowing Levi hates it when that’s your choice to eat dinner at, but he trusts that you won’t spill anything after two months of convincing him. He rolls his eyes and hands you your takeout container once you’ve settled in and he’s made his way over to you.

You practically devour the takoyaki and sigh with contentment when you’re finished, placing the box on the coffee table in front of you. “I want to show you something tonight,” Levi mumbles next to you, capturing your attention. He’s only eaten half of his meal, but he places the box next to yours. “Have you ever experienced a braindance before?”

You shake your head. “No, but I’ve always wanted to.”

Levi gives you a small smile – a rare occurrence you love seeing now. “I have one. It’s small, but I think you’ll really like it.” He gets up from the couch and walks to the cabinet under the television that never gets used. “I’ll go in with you.” He sits back down on the couch next to you and begins to hook you up. “It’s not an XBD, I promise. You trust me?” All you do is nod.

He hooks himself up and leans back into the couch as you do the same when he puts you both in.

For a moment all you really see is white, and then when your eyes adjust you’re met with the sight of tall trees surrounding you and blue skies that stretch on for miles. Your lips are parted in awe at your environment as you look around and finally land on Levi standing there watching you. “It’s incredible,” you breathe. You’ve never seen anything like it.

“It’s a part of Helsinki, apparently,” he tells you. “It’s an old one, but it cost a fortune. I hope it’s still like this.”

You finally move from your spot to walk around the area as much as you can, taking in the sight of greenery around you, enclosing you in with such a calming presence. It’s beautiful, the way the trees seem to tower over you like buildings, but you feel so much more at peace. You can feel the grass beneath your feet and smell the freshness of the air as you take a deep breath. It feels like you’re in paradise.

You look back over at Levi to find that his eyes never left your wandering form, and you make it a point to walk back over to him. “Thank you,” you tell him with the most sincerity in your voice. “This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”

He smiles at you and your heart palpitates. “You deserve it.” He slides a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him and into a hug where you practically melt against him. When you lean back your noses are almost touching, your breathing softer as you stare into his grey eyes.

Levi rips the headset off of him and then off of you before you’re climbing onto his lap on the couch. Your lips connect with his within a second, softly pressing against him with enough pressure as he runs his hands along your hips. He reciprocates with more enthusiasm, a hand coming up to cup the side of your face to tilt you so he can deepen the pressure. 

You barely separate when you’ve run out of breath, panting softly. “Sorry,” you breathe.

“Don’t be stupid,” he scolds before grabbing you by the nape of your neck to pull you in again, fervently moving his lips against yours with bruising pressure. His other hand rests on your hip and starts to guide you back and forth so you’re rolling yourself against him, causing you to let out a breathy moan when your clit receives a small amount of pressure. Your tongues slightly touch when your mouth opens wider, the soft muscles dancing with each other as you grind yourself against Levi.

You can feel him underneath you, hard and pressing against the fabric of his slacks. You tug on his hair, feeling the rough undercut and the soft silky strands that frame his forehead. You’re only wearing a pair of shorts and one of his shirts, allowing him to slide his hands up your sides as you do the work of grinding against him. His hand fondles your bare breast and you’re already embarrassingly close as you grind your cunt against him, letting out a small moan as you tilt your head back in ecstasy.

Levi’s lips move to your exposed neck, suckling and biting his way down until he reaches a sensitive spot that makes you gasp. “Use me, sweetheart,” Levi breathes onto your skin. “Use me and make yourself cum.” You whimper and roll your hips against him, using his clothed cock to get you off shamelessly. You’re panting, and soon you’re seeing stars as you orgasm and hold onto Levi like he’s your only lifeline. “That’s a good girl,” he coos as you come down. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

“Levi,” you call for him breathlessly and he easily stands up with you in his lap, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you up the stairs to the bed. He gently lays you down, crawling on top of you to continue his nibbles to your neck as you come down from your high. “I need you,” you whimper and weakly paw at his back.

“You’ll have me, sweet girl,” Levi promises and sits up, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it aside in a manner completely unlike him. His hands slide under your shirt as yours reach for him, to feel his pecs and torso; the muscle that flexes so taut under his flawless skin. He pulls at the fabric until you sit up slightly, allowing him to pull your shirt over your head and onto the floor to join his own. “You’re a dirty girl for not wearing a bra today,” he rasps.

“I hardly ever do,” you breathe and pull him down to meet your lips again, urgently seeking out the intimate contact. Your mouths move seamlessly together, connecting and molding to one another so perfectly you’re already breathless again. One of his hands wanders to your hips to tug at the shorts you’re wearing and you lift your hips so he can pull them down – you manage to kick them off with him on top of you.

His lips wander, drifting down to your jaw and then your neck, down to your collarbone and sternum as he leaves trails of his markings down your torso. He drops down to your lower abdomen, kissing slowly before his face is hovering over your dripping cunt. “You poor thing,” Levi coos, “you’re clenching at nothing.” He watches your hole flutter, aching to be filled.

“Levi, please,” you beg.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He places two fingers between your lips, collecting the slick and teasing your entrance.

“Anything,” you groan, “touch me, lick me, please. Anything!”

Levi loses all of his patience and thrusts the two fingers into you all at once, earning a large gasp from you that quickly becomes breathless moans. He rushes forwards to feel your clit throb in his mouth, lips enclosing on the small bud and gently sucking so you’re writhing from pleasure.

Your hand flies down to establish a grip in his hair as he starts to lick you up and down, flicking his tongue and giving you everything you asked for. Levi finds himself rutting into the mattress to the sounds of your mewling and moans, desperate to take care of you and give himself some relief.

“Can you give me one more?” Levi asks between strokes of pumping his fingers into you. “Can you cum one more time sweet girl?” You nod aggressively, feeling Levi smile against your clit before he resumes his sucking and licking that has you seeing stars as your eyes roll back. He inserts one more finger, finger fucking you with three now and meeting no resistance as you suck him in. 

You cum hard, feeling your hips chase after your high as you practically fuck yourself against Levi’s fingers and mouth. He eases one out, using two to gently guide you through it and scissor you open a bit more before pulling them out completely. You feel delirious with pleasure, eyes lidded and flushed lips slightly parted as you stare at Levi. He rises from the bed and wipes his chin off with the back of his hand as he unbuckles his belt to slide his slacks off, taking his boxers with them.

You shamelessly stare, licking your lips to wet them again after breathing so hard. “Can you handle more?” he asks gently, caressing your face as he crawls over you again.

You nod. “Mmhm,” is all you can manage to get out.

“You sure? I want to be rough with you,” he checks in with you softly, eyebrows dipped with concern.

“Mm,” you nod, “want it rough.”

He leans down, lips connecting with yours and you whimper. He palms his cock, stroking it and positioning it at your entrance to brush it between your folds, causing you to shudder when the head rubs against your clit, the oversensitivity making you gasp. Levi deepens the kiss, using one hand to softly caress your face as his metal forearm supports him while the other guides himself into you, both of you groaning simultaneously once he bottoms out.

He’s gentle at first, ensuring you’ve adjusted to him before he pulls back and snaps his hips forward, eliciting a gasp from you. The pain dissipates into blinding pleasure as he continues to pound himself into you, the only sounds being your heavy breathing, skin slapping together, and the lewd squelching from between your bodies.

“Fuck, Levi,” you choke out through a moan.

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises. His movements are slow, but so blindingly hard that you feel that pressure building in your lower abdomen already. He pulls his hips back in an arch, and rolls them back forwards to stroke that perfect spot inside your walls. “So sweet,” he moans. He sits back so his hand can grab at your throat, gently squeezing the sides so you’re all the more delirious. “You’re mine, sweetheart. I get to take care of you,” Levi groans. “Just me.”

“Mmhm,” you nod aggressively, eyes rolling back when he pushes himself up to the hilt as hard as he can.

“Can you be on top for a bit, love?” Levi relaxes on the pressure he’s been using, slowly rolling his hips into yours instead as he removes his hand on your throat. You look up at him with half-lidded eyes and nod. “I’ll still take care of you,” he promises, a thumb pulling your bottom lip down.

He pulls out and you whine as he helps you up so he’s laying down and you’re straddling him. You sink yourself down onto him and let out a moan of relief at being filled again by Levi as he lets out one of his own, guiding you forwards, coaxing you into allowing your torso to fall against his and you bury your face into his neck. He wraps his arms around your torso and thrusts upwards, hitting that sweet spot at a different angle that makes your head spin.

You’re practically drooling onto the pillow below Levi’s head as he keeps his promise of being rough with you, pounding into you so hard your vision is blurry, but maybe that’s just the tears that have formed. “You trust me?” he asks, choking it out between strokes.

“Yes,” you mumble deliriously, nodding your head up and down. “Yes, Levi, yes, yes, yes,” you moan.

His hand slides down your back and his thrusts slow a bit before you feel a finger gathering up your slick and glide back up to your ass. He gently prods your hole, circling the rim before he pushes past that barrier of muscle.

You tense up, lifting your head from his neck to look down at him as he slides a finger into your ass. “Levi,” you gasp.

“Can feel you clenching,” he mutters. “Relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You can take it.”

You can’t relax, but he pushes past anyway and manages to get knuckle deep as he slowly pulsates his finger inside of you. He’s still slowly thrusting into you, his cock brushing your walls and feeling his own finger on the other side. You’ve never felt so full in your life and now that the pain is gone all you can feel is debilitating bliss, your breathing even more labored than before as you sit up a bit and push yourself down so you’re grinding against his cock and finger.

“Cum in me Levi,” you beg, “Claim me. Wanna feel you cum.” You clench around him, close to your own end as you frantically rut your hips down on him.

“Fuck, fuck,” Levi growls. “Gonna cum, baby, fuck.”

You clench around him as you cum again, white rings of your cream flowing down his cock as you roll your hips back and forth to chase your own end. You feel a wave of warmth inside of you as Levi lets out a whine, his cum filling you as his finger leaves your other hole so he can pull you down to him for a frantic kiss.

Your lips melt together, moving slowly now that you’ve both come down a bit from your high, and you feel like you’re drunk on him alone. You separate from him, noses still touching as you lightly breathe in each other’s air and stare. You know you need to get up, but your limbs feel like jelly and you just might collapse on top of him.

“Come on,” Levi whispers. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

—

You rest your head against his shoulder, allowing him to hold you up and wash your body gently with soothing strokes from his hands.

“You really want to be mine?” Levi's voice breaks through the sound of the shower water pelting the tile around you, uncertainty unexpectedly lacing it.

You lift your head to look at him properly, confusion evident in your features. “Yes,” you reassure him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Do you still want to go to Helsinki?” he questions.

You frown and dip your head back down to rest against his shoulder. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

—

When Levi gets home you’re connected to the braindance he showed you, mindlessly laying on the couch as you visit Helsinki for the fifth time this month even after using it for a year straight. He quietly pads over to you and turns the braindance off, allowing you to take the headset off as you frown up at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you question, setting the headset down on the coffee table.

“I could take you, you know,” Levi suggests. If you want to go he’ll take you and then the two of you will come back to Night City. “We’ll visit – together – and then we’ll come back to the city. Maybe it can be a yearly thing.” He walks over to the bar and pours himself a glass of scotch as he loosens his tie.

“You know I could never come back to Night City after seeing a place like that,” you mutter, standing up from the couch.

“We could go more than once a year,” Levi suggests instead. He takes a sip from his glass. “Erwin wouldn’t mind funding the trips. He has more eddies than he needs.”

You look up at him – you haven’t come over to him to kiss him hello like you usually do. “Night City isn’t meant for me.”

Levi furrows his eyebrows; confused. He knows you’ve always dreamed of seeing Helsinki, but he thought you were feeling more at home now – he gives you everything you ask for, everything you need. He’s here. “I thought you were feeling better about it.”

“I don’t do anything, Levi,” you sigh and finally walk over to him, still slightly out of reach. “I wait for you to come home so I can be your joytoy and eat, and then the next day is the same.”

He frowns. “You’re more than a joytoy and you know that. Erwin still has a place if you want to get back into netrunning –”

“I don’t want to work,” you cut him off.

“I–” Levi says your real name and he watches you flinch. “I love you. I… I don’t understand why you want to leave. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything.”

“Levi,” you sigh and frown down at the ground. “I love you, but what I want is to live in Helsinki.” You look back up at him and walk towards him – he sets down his glass – and you grab his hands. “Come with me. Live with me there,” you beg him, looking at him with doe eyes and tears forming on your waterline. “We could be so happy, Levi.”

God, he feels like his heart is being ripped out. “My place is in Night City and you know that.”

You drop his hands and he feels like he’s already lost you.

—

You never thought you’d be seeing it in person; the utopia of Helsinki – the one place with so much life, clean air and loving people. Levi had been right, they don’t let just anyone in here, but Erwin had managed to pull some strings and now here you were, staring at a giant forest of trees with Levi watching you from behind.

You turn around to face him with a giant grin on your features. “This is incredible,” you tell him, as if he can’t see what you’re seeing.

“I know,” he smiles at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You spin to look around again, your senses overwhelming you when you try to take everything in; the feeling of the soft dirt beneath your shoes, the way it’s so easy to breathe in the clean air, the sound of birds chirping. Levi wraps his arms around you from behind and you sigh, feeling so content with where your life has taken you – even if you’ll have to be back in Night City by the end of the week.

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart,” Levi mumbles into your neck, leaving sweet kisses along your skin and on the nape of your neck. You turn around in his arms and reach for him, pulling him in for a soft, gentle kiss. He tastes so sweet.

“You’re too good to me, Levi,” you whisper against his lips.

“You deserve it.”

—

Levi unlocks the door, holding your hand to guide you inside. It’s more beautiful than it was in the picture, the perfect amount of natural wood and soft materials decorating the space – he knows you’ll love it much more than his apartment.

“Wow,” you breathe. “They decorate so differently here. It’s so calming.”

“I thought you’d like it,” he gives you a soft smile.

You wander around the space, touching all of the soft materials and running your hands along the wood that looks different than what they use in Night City. There's a large window in your living area looking out over a small lake with the tallest trees he’s ever seen surrounding it – the only trees he’s really ever seen in real life.

“I love it,” you laugh. “It’s perfect. This will be such a good week.”

He knew it would be hard, but he never thought he would struggle to force the words out as much as he is now. “It’s yours, actually.”

You pause your movements, slowly turning around to face him in the middle of your new apartment. “What?”

Levi says your name softly. “Welcome home.”

“Levi–”

“I bought it for you,” he starts before he can back out. “Your citizenship is being worked on by Erwin, but it should be valid soon.”

“Levi–”

“You won’t have to worry about working, I’ll still provide for you, and you can just live here to do what you want.”

“Levi, what are you doing?” You’re looking at him with tears in your eyes and he fears he’s gotten it all wrong.

“I told you I’d give you anything you ever wanted and I meant it.” He walks towards you. “I love you. I don’t want you to leave, but if this is what you want then it’s yours,” he chokes out. He would never stop you from living your dreams, even if it meant his own heart would be shattered – he knew you were too good to be true, too good to stick around him.

“I don’t know what to say,” you choke out, tears flowing down your cheeks.

He swipes your tears away with his thumbs. “You never were very good at accepting my gifts,” he mumbles.

You hug him, so tightly it feels like you’ll never let go, and he savors the feeling of your body pressed against his. His lips peck your forehead. You separate from him and look into his eyes with red rimmed eyes, irises glazed over as you lean in to kiss him sweetly.

You pull him onto the platform bed at the edge of the room and he eagerly crawls over you, savoring every inch of your skin as he tears your clothes off and you do the same to him. He has tears in his eyes when he pushes himself inside of you, and he can hardly look at you despite wanting to savor every last moment he has. Levi hides his face in your neck, sucking on your skin so you’ll have a few marks to remember him by for at least a little while.

“Levi,” you moan. He ignores you. “Levi. Levi, look at me.” He can’t. He can’t obey your sweet words, practically begging him to just watch you come undone like he always does as he whispers sweet praises for you. You push on his shoulders. “Levi,” you choke out again.

He swallows hard and finally slows his thrusts to a complete stop, lifting his head just enough to look at you. You have tears in your own eyes as you wipe away his. “I love you,” Levi chokes out, because fuck he’s never felt anything like this before in his life and he needs you to know before he leaves you here.

“Stay with me,” you beg him. “Please. I need you in my life Levi.”

He doesn’t say anything – he knows his voice will fail him. 

He continues his thrusts into you and loses himself completely, mumbling your name like a mantra and thumbing your clit so you cum for him. “You’re such a good girl,” he finally moans, close to his own release. “You’ll always be mine.”

“Levi,” you mewl. “Cum in me. I’m yours. I’m yours. I love you.” You moan, back arching as an orgasm rips through you and Levi meets his own end with his cock throbbing inside you.

—

You lie in the middle of the grass field, staring up at the sea of clouds above you that sprawl across the blue skies. You’ll never get tired of this view; the way it seems to melt away all of your worries and slow your heart rate enough so you feel normal. You think about how you should make yourself a cup of tea and smile, remembering how much Levi loved the tea here from the fresh tea leaves they grow in Helsinki.

It’s been at least two years since you’ve seen him, his last words telling you he loves you and to contact him if you ever want to see him – you haven’t tried. You miss him so much it hurts every time you think about him, but you belong in Helsinki. You volunteer now at the local gardens, tending to the flowers and crops so your community can eat. You tend to isolate yourself, but you’ve made a few friends – you belong here.

Levi stopped sending you money personally, instead handing the task over to Erwin. You get it, you would do it too, but it didn’t hurt any less when you received a message from Erwin letting you know.

You’ll probably never see him again and you have to live with your choices with no regrets, but you can’t help it when your mind lingers on thoughts of him. No one will ever come close, you’ll never love anyone else, but you hope he’s tried to move on from you all the same.

—

But Levi never did move on from you.

He spent most of his idle time thinking of you, thinking of how you looked in his clothes and how sweet you were to him; how beautiful you always were and always would be.

It’s been years now and you still haven’t reached out to him and he respects your space even after so long. 

Levi connects to the BD he’s saved, expecting to see you next to him in the fields of Helsinki, and instead being met with an open field even though he swears he saw a glimpse of your soft irises staring back at him.

[drylan]

One Day At a Time

Ship: Dylan Lenivy/Ryan Ezraheler 

Tags: Post-Canon, Amputee Dylan, Ficlet, Light Hurt & Comfort, Bad Puns, Established Relationship

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Dylan asks for Ryan’s perspective on a major life decision.

Dylan balanced the phone in the crook of his left elbow as the video chatting app rang. Ryan was on a train traveling halfway across the state to visit his little sister, Sarah, for part of spring break.

It was one of the many things Dylan came to appreciate and, truly, made him fall for Ryan harder after they started dating. He was furiously loyal and protective of his little sister. Who Dylan also absolutely adored. She was so sweet and clever, with that hilarious blunt edge that she shared with her brother. He hoped all three of them could spend some time during the summer, but Dylan couldn’t go with Ryan this time around. No, because of the physical therapy appointments he had this week.

Ryan answered the video call on the third ring, pulling Dylan out of his thoughts. “Hi, babe...” Dylan grinned as soon as he saw Ryan’s sleep soft expression filling up the small screen, the glowing light of his phone the only thing lighting up their otherwise dark, emptier than usual, bedroom.

“Hey,” He yawned, triggering Dylan’s own yawn in response. “So, how’d your appointment go?”

“Uh, fine, fine it went good...” He could hear the avoidance in his own voice and he knew it was a only a matter of time Ryan called him on it. “So, how’s the train? Do you feel like a Victorian Era gentleman off on a new adventure out West to swindle business partners?”

“No, I feel like a tired teen wondering why his normally oversharing boyfriend is not sharing about a very, very important appointment with his physical therapist he had earlier today.” Ryan’s voice seemed unamused, but Dylan learned to pick up on his subtle cues. Ryan wasn’t unamused, he was concerned.  

“Wow, that obvious, huh? Heh, heh...so, um...” Dylan readjusted the phone in the crook of his elbow. “...they think, um, I might be able to get a myoelectric prosthesis.” 

“Oh, so like, a new hand?”

“Yeah, a real fancy one, I could control it with my nerve endings stuff. It would take some training and time and fittings, but...a new hand. I’d be a certified bionic boyfriend!” He resisted the urge to make a pun about robo-handjobs to break the momentarily silence. 

“Well, that’s...that’s pretty damn amazing. Even though I have no idea what myoelectric means.” There was a pleased, excited light in Ryan’s eyes that made something warm flip in Dylan’s stomach. 

Dylan chews into his bottom lip nervously. “Yeah, it is awesome, but...”

“Go on.” Ryan doesn’t miss a beat, patience and calm as always. “You can tell me anything Dylan, you know we’ve been through much for you not to.”

“I know it’s just, it’s been hard man. The therapy for both of us. The physical therapy for me. Insurance covers some of it but it would cost more and even then it would take a while before I really use it and, y’know, I don’t wanna make it harder then it already is-”

“Wait, wait, dial it back here.” Ryan says quickly, shifting in his seat. “You want do this, right? Get the prosthesis, right?”

“Yeah, but...”

“See, the only butt here that matters in yours and how much I get to touch it when I come home.” Dylan snorted when he heard the undignified noise of the passenger next to Ryan, who then got up to sit in another seat. 

“Man, I’m rubbing off on you...”

“Oh, you will be.” Ryan promised. Wow, Dylan really was rubbing off on him in one more ways than one.

“Looking forward to it, babe.” He winked at the phone camera, before managing to school his expression and swallowed nervously. “You really think I should go ahead for the new hand?”

“I do. Listen, we’ll make it work, the therapy, the cost of equipment. Whatever. We’ll just take it a day at a time, okay?”

Dylan really liked the sound of that. “One day at a time.”

“Right.” A garbled speaker noise came over the speaker of the train, indicating the next stop was approaching. “That’s my stop, so...gotta go. But I’ll call you tomorrow. Uh, love you...”

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! The ‘L’ word. THAT ‘L’ word! 

Dylan took it in stride, responding with a soft, fond, “I love you, too.” Before the video chat ended.

He could do this, with Ryan’s help and taking it one day at a time. Things would only get better from here.

[luna-redamancy]

I posted 1,489 times in 2022

495 posts created (33%)

994 posts reblogged (67%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 673 of my posts in 2022

#fanfiction - 191 posts

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Longest Tag: 130 characters

#my coworker asked what i wanted to do with my life and i said if it was up to me i’d be in a cottage in the woods rather than work

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hi could i request the following prompts by @imaginexhobbit please.

Imagine Haldir being shocked that you have an interest in him, because he's nothing like other elves.

Imagine comforting Haldir after he is taunted for having a bulkier build than most elves

Ehe...Look at me, writing at 11pm when I should be getting ready for bed cause I have my stinky stupid office job tomorrow to go do office job things at.

For proper credit for the idea- Prompts by @imaginexhobbit

I hope you enjoy it, Nonnie!

The sun left the atmosphere sweltering, sweat beading down the back of your neck as you put away your training sword. Hearing a commotion, you raised a brow, head lifting and turning to look behind you to see the new recruits still in the training pit, laughing and making mocking gestures. 

“What the hell..” You muttered, leaning over the railing to watch them closer. 

“I am captain Haldir, a bulky dwarf,” You could faintly hear one say, your breath hitching as you saw Haldir coming up the steps you just came up. 

“More like an orc!”

If you heard it, then surely he must have as well. 

“Alright new recruits, that’s enough!” You shouted down, glaring at them. “If you want to stay on the guard then you will learn to respect your captain!” 

“Haldir-” You turned to talk to him, to give him encouragement. 

But your words were too late, as Haldir didn’t even acknowledge them, instead choosing to brush passed you to put his own sword away and exiting the training area without so much as a murmur slipping out of his lips. 

“Damn it,” You huffed under your breath, ignoring the urge to go bathe and instead followed after him. 

“Haldir, wait,” You called after him, jogging to catch up to him. 

“Leave me alone, please,” Haldir muttered, not stopping to look at you but his pace did slow to allow you to walk next to him, contradicting his words. 

“Unfortunately, I can’t do that,” Your words made him pause, a furrow in his brow as he turned to look at you. Not quite glaring, definitely not smiling either. 

“Why?”

“Because I care.”

“You are dismissed, (Y/n),” Haldir rolled his eyes, moving to keep walking. Reaching out, you grasped him by his upper arm and pulled him back. 

“Not as a captain, Haldir,” You made your intentions clear. 

“What they said was rude, and hurtful, I want to make sure you’re alright,” You stated, watching the way he analyzed your face. 

“You shouldn’t care, after all, they were right.” Haldir sounded resigned, expression blank, but his eyes- oh his eyes. They swirled with the hurt and the pain at the words of his underlings.

“No they weren’t, don’t say that,” You nearly begged, grabbing him by the hand.  “They aren’t right, Haldir, you are not some bulky orc-ish creature. You are handsome, yes you are slightly larger but that is simply more to love and to treasure.”

Haldir scoffed, shaking his head, and pulled his hand out of your grasp. You tried to ignore the sting in your chest as he did so, watching as he clenched his fist.

“To love? To treasure?” He laughed, a bitter and dark one deep in his chest. “There’s nothing to be treasured about me.” He glared at the ground. “Nor to love.” 

“I think there is,” You gently coaxed, reaching for his hand again.

“Tell me, then, tell me who would care for me the way I so strongly desire?” He snapped his eyes to yours, angry tears forming on his face. 

You remained silent, heart aching at the way he began to break down in front of you. 

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305 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

#4

Headcanons: Kili as a lover...

Literally no one asked for these, but I’m sick and daydreaming is my coping mechanism so here ya go- I’m soft rn..

Kili is the type to... Pick up on your moods very easily, in tune with your emotions and how you interact with the world with each one going through you.

Kili is the type to... Soundlessly pull you into his embrace, hand cupping the back of your head as he envelops you into him- knowing that you’ve had a bad day and knowing you don’t wish to speak of it, needing the comfort without the questions.

Kili is the type to... Stroke his fingertips almost absentmindedly over your flesh, seeming as if an unconscious way to make sure you’re by his side and safe.

Kili is the type to... Urge you to sit in between his legs as he helps you with your hair, no matter the texture or length, grinning like a mad man when you lean into his touch. 

Kili is the type to... Always make sure to get two of everything, whether it be food or drink or more meaningful things like jewelry or hair decorations. 

Kili is the type to... Fight for you no matter what, you are his beloved. Even if this means getting into a brawl at the local tavern whenever a son of men looks at you a little too long... 

Please note that if your tag is in Bold, Tumblr won’t let me tag you!

Forever Tag

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​Kili-

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312 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#3

Hi beautiful! I hope you like my commission:

Thorin's little daughter coloring or painting and adding sparkles and ribbons to the orcrist, in the end it kinda looks like cartoon kitty kissy face with ribbons hanging on the handle and her only explanation is: it looked boring before! Now it at least looks pretty.

Reader (thorin's wife, who's been with him since the quest) can't help but laugh and agree. Just family fluff moments :) - Irene <3

Ohmygoodness Irene, I loved writing this so much! I hope you love it as much as I do:

It was quiet, oddly quiet, you noted as you looked up from your papers, your eyes narrowing as you listened in for the sound of giggles or little feet running on the floor. It was just before high noon, and your daughter was nowhere to be found. 

“Thorin,” You caught your husband’s attention, who looked up from his adjacent desk, looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“What is it?” 

“Where’s kurkarukê (my little raven)?” You stood from your desk, brows furrowing. It was too quiet. Normally she would have been running in and out, demanding to be in your lap, playing with your desk supplies, then running to Thorin and playing with his hair before then loudly exclaiming how hungry she was for the three of you to go enjoy lunch together. 

“I haven’t seen her since this morning and she isn’t due for nap time until later this afternoon, after lunch,” You explained, rounding your desk. This was not like her. She was not a quiet child, no, she was loud and boisterous and craved excitement, much like her cousin, Kili. 

“Didn’t Balin agree to look after her since we had our council meeting this morning?” 

Pausing in your strides, you ran through your memory as you began to bite at your lip. “Yes, he did, but that was hours ago…” 

“Surely he would have brought her back after they were done with their activities,” Thorin reassured, knowing how worried and protective you get over your little child. 

 “Right…” You mumbled, looking at the door with your furrowed expression remaining. 

Chuckling amusedly to himself, Thorin shook his head. “Go check on her, you know you want to.” 

“I think I will,” You agreed, walking to his desk to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Don’t work too hard while I’m gone,” You teased, a grin forming on your face as he leaned upwards to press a kiss to your own cheek. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” He grumbled, looking to the stack of letters he had yet to formally address. 

Exiting the Royal Office, you headed straight to Balin’s office. Maybe he had her set up to do some arts and crafts while her father and yourself worked. 

“Kurkarukê? Balin?” You called as you rapped your knuckles on the door, a grin growing on your face as you heard her begin to squeal with giggles. 

“What’s going on, hm?” You spoke out loud as you entered the office. She was laying on her stomach by herself on the floor, Balin nowhere in sight as she poured what appeared to be “stardust” that you two bought in the market a few days ago.

“Make pretty!” She giggled with glee as her little legs kicked in the air, amusement clear in her voice as she sat up to grab bright pink and green ribbon. 

“Oh?” You inquired, walking forward, expecting to see a piece of paper or maybe a wooden toy Bofur had crafted for her–

“Is that… Your father’s sword?” You did your best to keep your composure as you knelt beside her, watching as she began to wrap the handle in the green ribbon. 

“Mhm!” She nodded, tongue sticking out as she carefully turned the sword to wrap underneath it. The blade’s shiny reflective surface was soon covered beneath wrappings of thick vibrant green. Only now did you notice the gold detailing on it.

“What’re you doing now?” You couldn’t help but ask, realizing she’s taking away room to pour more of her glitter. 

“Gotta wrap it, amad (mother),” She said simply, not really paying you any mind. “Why do we have to wrap it?” 

“So no ouchies,” She said in a tone that reflected how silly she thought your question was, almost as if the word “duh” was lingering on her tongue but out of respect she chose to not say it. 

“Ah, silly me,” You pretended to smack your forehead as you sat down properly. 

“And this?” You held up the roll of pink ribbon. 

“Bows!” She cheered, gluing down the rest of the green ribbon so it would hold in place before launching into action. 

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318 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

#2

Hello (*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ here to request some thorin x reader where the reader is a dragon trainer ? She lived with dragons since young and Smaug was actually her familiar/partner before, now she is trying to help the Dwarves get their home

Hello!! This is such a cool idea and it makes me want to watch How to Train Your Dragon...

Edit: I just now realized this was supposed to be a Thorin x reader... And I wrote just a Company x reader.. I’m so sorry!

Anywho, I hope you enjoy it!

“So you work with…Dragons,” Balin was carefully wording his sentences, in hopes of not offending you, nor his kin that he knew were listening very closely as he sat across from you. The fire crackled in the background and it reminded you of teaching the young drakes to control their fire in terms of intensity and range.

You had yet to sign the contract, wanting to read every bit of it thoroughly. As you told Gandalf, if there were any bits of information regarding killing or hurting Smaug, you would not sign it and you wouldn’t join in on their mission. 

Looking up from the parchment, you gave him a smile. “I do,” You encouraged, putting a finger where you were last reading so you could continue in a moment. 

“Do you know of Dragon Trainers, Sir Balin?” You inquired, tilting your head. 

“I’m afraid I do not,” Balin chuckled nervously to which you nodded in understanding. 

“I know Smaug had hurt you all severely, and for that, I am forever sorry,” You began, “But please know, that not all dragons are like him. He lost his way,” You sighed, looking back down at the paper. 

“How do you know he lost his way?” 

“I once worked with him, when he was younger.” You realized you now had an audience. The entire Company now hovering in the doorway, trying to not look so suspicious. 

“His former trainer died from old age, and he was heartbroken, he barely got up to hunt or make a small hoard, so they gave him to me to work with,” You began to tell his story, remembering play fighting with the small drake, taking him to get treats whenever he did exceptionally well during training. 

He transformed in front of your eyes. No longer was he the depressed dragon that he came to you as, he was kind and playful, courteous and passionate. Not this greedy, murderous, vicious beast that the world saw him as.

“And what happened?” Balin seemed very interested, wanting to know how he went from being in something akin to a dragon’s camp to rampaging his home. 

“We aren’t entirely sure,” You shook your head, “But the elder trainers think that it had to do with the unearthing of the Dragon Stone, or what most called it, the Arkenstone.” 

It felt like the world was put on pause as Balin stared at you in horror. 

“It’s a magnificent jewel, yes,” You nodded, “Beautiful and vibrant, glowing on its own. But it also has magic within it,” You explained. Pausing to put the quill where your finger was so you could grab your book out of your bag. 

“See here,” You flipped the pages rapidly to get to where you had put a placeholder before. The Arkenstone was drawn in the center, glowing bright, with dragons lined up behind it. 

“For some reason, the magic within it causes unfathomable greed in mankind, but for dragons, it sparks undeniable rage that is only calmed whenever the dragons are near it. Like some sort of drug,” You explained, “We haven’t ever been able to have a dragon near one without it causing them to go feral.”

“So you think when the Arkenstone was found and put in King Thror’s throne-”

“It was a beacon to dragons to come take it,” You finished Kili’s sentence as he approached the two of you.

“I don’t know if that’s the exact reason he did what he did, and nothing can excuse the hell he rained down on you all,” You looked over to them. 

“What Smaug did was terrible, and I understand that you want his head on a pedestal,” You focused on Thorin, eyes pleading. 

“Just let me help get you your homeland back. I can get him out safely and take him so he can go back to the far north so our elders can work with him.” 

“How do you know he’ll go with you?” Ori piped in, looking concerned. 

“I am a dragon trainer, and since he has left and done this, well, we’ve trained in how to deal with dragons that are falling to Dragon Stone magic.” 

“Bilbo can help me get the stone away from Smaug,” You looked at the newly contracted burglar with a grin, “And once it’s out of sight and covered, the magic effects should wear off and he should come to his senses.” 

Thorin sighed deeply through his nose before approaching. 

“We will trust what you can do, Lady Dragon Trainer.” 

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344 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hey could I have a Kili x Reader where the reader is someone Gandalf recruited early on the adventure. She spends all her time in the woods and can even converse with animals as well as being an adept hunter and survivalist? Kili just becomes infatuated then and there

Hello!! I'm so sorry this took so long to complete, but I hope you enjoy:

“I thought you said you had another person attending, Gandalf, your apprentice?” Thorin’s words floated above the murmur of the company members as they feasted on poor Bilbo’s pantry. 

“I do, however, unfortunately, they were caught up in other matters. Do not fret, Thorin, they will meet us along the way.” 

“What matters were so important to have missed a vital meeting before we set off on this journey?” Thorin’s tone was criticizing as he imagined a young lad trying to drink himself into a stupor- 

“Medical ones,” Gandalf’s cheery disposition turned into a frown as he gazed upon the dwarf. 

“They are providing medical guidance for a town riddled with disease. I say a sobbing child with a fever needs their attention more than a group of rowdy, but otherwise healthy, dwarves.” 

“My apologies,” Thorin tilted his head to Gandalf who responded in kind. 

“I know you are anxious to meet the final member of your Company, Thorin, trust me when I say everything will fall together- in due time.” 

And that was the last they discussed the missing apprentice, your absence not being brought up again. 

The next morning, after a night of feasting and somber singing, the Company set out on their journey. 

The trees were lush and soon the rolling hills of the Shire had all but disappeared behind the horizon. Coin was shared upon the arrival of Bilbo, but the final member of the Company had still yet to arrive. 

“Gandalf,” Thorin addressed as he fell to the middle of the line where Gandalf was atop of his horse. 

“Do you know when your apprentice will be arriving?” 

“I would say–”

“Right now,” You called out, popping up next to Gandalf as you stared at the bird in your hand. It was a small old-world sparrow, happily chirping as you nodded. 

“You are-” Kili almost interrupted, the Company now halted as they stared at you awaiting introduction. 

“One moment,” You held up a finger, keeping your gaze trained on the bird, pausing in your steps. 

“Thank you,” You said after a moment, smiling at the small creature. You watched as the bird then took off, flying into the trees. 

“You’re Gandalf’s apprentice?” Balin tried this time, your gaze returning to the Company. 

“Yes, I am,” You bowed your head, “My name is (Y/n),” You greeted, your grin widening as each dwarf gave their name. 

“And you?” You stared at Kili who seemed to be starstruck, eyes wide and round as the wind shifted the leaves of the trees, making the sunlight highlight different areas of your face. Dipped in golden light. 

Fili chuckled, turning into a cough as Kili elbowed him harshly in the gut. “Kili, at your service,” he bowed his head. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” You turned to Gandalf, “There may be trouble along the old road,” You explained, “The sparrows have seen trolls taking livestock from farmers, they recommend to stay away.”

“Sparrows?” Bilbo questioned and before you could explain, Gandalf was quick to boast. 

“(Y/n) holds many abilities, but one of them is animal conversing, birds are her favorite.”

“They know so much,” You shrugged, as the company resumed traveling. Walking alongside Gandalf, you failed to notice the eyes trained on your form and drinking in your appearance. 

“Also, they say the population of rabbits has increased, especially towards the winding trees further north, we’re likely to be able to catch a few for supper come time to set up camp,” You were already planning your hunt in your head.

Kili felt like he was going to swoon. He was most certainly in deep, and you’ve only said a few sentences. 

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356 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

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[thefanbasewhore]

Early Mornings

summary: what mornings are like when geralt comes home

content: fluff

paring: Geralt of Rivia x female reader

a/n: I'm going to be posting all of my Geralt imagines from my old blog from when s1 came out.. so they as you can imagine are awful so I am editing all of them and have a few more, so if you would like to be tagged, my tag list is below

join my Geralt tag list - Geralt master list

Soft breaths come and go with the rise and fall of his broad chest. His hair is messy and in knots from tossing and turning partially from how damn soft your bed is, different from the usual forest floors and dingy inn beds. The early morning sun slipped through the cracks of the translucent curtains to reach the highs of his cheeks, see the peaks on skin from underneath coarse chest hair.

Never have you seen the Witcher so relaxed, long silver hair cascading over bare shoulders but instead of the normal rough grimace was a relaxed pout. So peaceful you have to fight the urge to kiss it.

Mornings like these make you wonder why you ever let him leave at all. The selfish urge to keep the Witcher here all to yourself hangs high in the air, so much you almost feel ashamed of it.

Seven weeks. That's how long he was gone this time and with winter on its way, it would surely be longer. Geralt has been asleep for hours, you couldn't find the courage or have the heart to wake him. Last night he came late at night, clearly tired with big purple bags under his eyes and covered in some kind of green goo. From your own guess, right after slaying the beast came to see you.

You can't help as your greedy eyes run across his strong features again, fluttering eyes lashes with a narrow nose, pink cupid shaped lips with a chiseled jaw line. Then down his chest, dark hairs curling against the skin that falls into his toned, muscular stomach. A dark patch of hair picks up again in a line down to his abdomen where the sheets cover to keep his modesty.

It's like you could watch him sleep all day and never grow tired. Peaceful and resting, something the wolf never had before.

But your hand quickly betrays you and without any thought presses against the line of his jaw, feeling the prickle of his scruff. As much as you loved to see him relaxed there is nothing you want more in this world than to see those amber eyes gaze upon your skin. The other hand presses against the solid mass of his tricep and pushes lightly.

It does nothing. Geralt is still sound asleep, almost unlife like as you huff. Despite the early morning bringing a chill into the house, you manage to get out of the messy sheets only to straddle Geralt with a grin. The weight of your being pressed against his abdomen did little to wake the sleeping wolf but the warm kisses against his neck followed by a smooth trail of saliva made his eyes flutter.

"What are you doing?" The grumbled words coming from his chest, annoyed about being waking unexpectedly. Golden eyes find your own, a grin breaking his face once noticing the very compromising position you had managed to get into. His hair is messily tossed across shoulders, frizzy from the nights sleep.

You look beautiful, hair clearly slept on, face bare but all he could think about is how beautiful you are. How lucky he is that a beautiful creature like you would give him the time of day.

Geralt's large hand presses into your cheek, using the pads of his knuckles to slowly run them across your jaw line, back and forth as he just stares.

"What?" He chuckles at the way you scrunch your nose, annoyed.

"You're beautiful, sweet girl."

There's that stupid nicknames that makes your face warm, rolling your eyes like it's not big deal but he almost sees right through you as he sits up, wrapping your legs around his waist and presses a soft kiss into your neck before holding you there.

It feels like hours, the way he holds you close. Hugging you and pressing sweet kisses against your bare shoulder.

Leaning against his touch you curl the ends of his hair with your fingers affectionately, "I'm hungry."

"Of course you are." Lips find your hair before rubbing his cheek into it. "A few more minutes with you, that's all I wish for."

Geralt sighs like it physically hurts to pull away and bring his eyes to your own, "I'll make breakfast before I leave? Stay inside, I'll go get some eggs from the hens, it's too cold out there for you."

The words make your heart drop, trying to hide your disappointment as Geralt frowns. This, this is the exact part he dreads. Seeing the quiver of your lip followed by glossy eyes.

"You're leaving so soon?"

"Yes," He answers truthfully, "I need more coin before returning home for the winter. Kaer Morhen is a long journey."

His hands reach out to cup yours and bring them to his lips, "One more job, I'll come back for you."

“You promise?”

“I promise. It gets harder and harder to leave you every time, my heart.” brows flurrow in confusion as Geralt pauses his words with a smile, "Just need some coin before we make the far journey to my home."

[bakugohoex]

“you come in dressed like a stripper...so strip”

pairing: toji fushiguro x female reader

cw: AU, fluff, cheating with Toji, language, implicit mentions of abuse, nsfw (MINORS DNI, kissing, spanking, dry humping, thigh riding, degradation, praise kink, jaw grabbing, male receiving oral, titfucking, clit play, unprotected sex, consensual sex, nipple play, nipple sucking, spit play, blowjob, thigh grabbing, exihibitionism, car sex, semi pervy Toji, assumed age gap)

word count: 5900+

a/n: THIS FIC HAS BEEN POSTED TWICE BUT WON’T SHOW UP IN THE TAGS IF IT DOESNT SHOW UP AGAIN IM DONE AND WILL TRY AND POST IT TOMORROW INSTEAD

other information: jujutsuhub collab by @suna-reversed

summary: in which after gaining an infatuation with your boss you can’t help but flirt with the man, when he realises what your motives truly are he can’t help but take you in his office right for your co-workers to hear

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Every fucking day, every god damn fucking day, you had become an issue for the man. Every day you’d saunter into his office, black heels and that oh so tight skirt that seemed to get shorter every day. Your blouse with a mesh that was almost see through with your bra peeking out of it held your chest on show. He hated it, hated how whenever you bent beside him to pass his coffee, the way your back arched and legs almost looked spread made his trousers become tighter.

Toji had too much to worry about then how his secretary dressed but seeing it right in front of him. The way your ass perked up, your bare thigh on show. Toji leant back on his chair to get a better view of your back as you spoke of upcoming meetings which he already knew of. The pencil skirt made it hard for Toji not to have the urge to slap at your ass. Going against his wants he turned towards your face as you stared down at him with your own coffee in hand.

“As long as the car is on time this time then we shouldn’t have a problem,” he muttered playing with the pencil he had on the left of him.

“Of course, I’ll make sure they’re ready, Sir,” the sound of the single word made him look up at you, every part of you screamed to want to get fucked. But he couldn’t dare touch you, he couldn’t dare touch his stupid little secretary who held a stupid job that she only got through her stupid fiancé, nepotism at its finest.

The golden band around your ring finger made Toji glare, you stupid fiancé, his stupid little worker bee who wasn’t even good at his job had gotten you to become Toji’s secretary. Maybe Toji had allowed it to spite your fiancé or maybe it was to imagine fucking you into his desk every single day. His eyes staring at the metal, some cheap jewellery that adorned your finger as if some lustful insight into your relationship.

“You got a date yet?” Toji watches you freeze as you grab the papers around the desk to organise later.

“For what, sir,” the stress of the term makes the man's jaw clenched, so pretty and yet so young, so full of vitality. He could imagine pushing that face of yours into the mattress as he fucked into you almost groaning out loud at the images in his head.

“What do you think?” He mutters once again more annoyed at how unaware you were as you began to place the files in your hand, licking the tip of your finger to grab a hold of the pages that were stuck together.

You looked up at him, his unamused look, the dark dark hair that matched his personality, the scar across his lip that almost gave him a crude look. He was everything your fiancé wasn’t, with his confidence and wit that came with the calm tone he presented the majority of the time. Your fiancé was caring and that’s all you ever wanted, but with your bosses lingering looks, his sharp movements of his hands that always seemed to graze the back of your thighs. “No sir, we haven’t gotten a date yet, I hear June’s a good time though.”

“Bit far away, doesn’t he want you to be his,” Toji spoke with such a calm tone, but his words and possessiveness sent a shiver down your spine, “if you were mine I’d want that.”

He mumbled the last part out, choosing to ignore the phrase as you thought over the man's words, you had been engaged for a while, you thought of your fiancés surname, Mrs…Mrs…“Mrs. Fushi...”

You didn’t dare stare at the man in front of you, he tried to hide his smirk as he heard you say his surname rather than your husbands, “I didn’t hear that, why don’t you repeat yourself?”

“I…I didn’t say anything…” you whisper out as he looks at you with a knowing smirk.

Standing up as he came closer to you, almost pushing your back against the wooden desk that he had so often thought of fucking you on, “say it again Mrs. Fushiguro.”

His hand attached to your jaw as his thumb traced your lips tentatively as if he was preparing them for something before he could even dare to make a move. The sound of your phone indicating that the driver was here brought the two of you out of each other’s arms. “We need to leave…”

You trailed off wanting to forget about the moment, if you could even call it one, occurring. He watched you grab your bag as you walked out of the office with a click of your heels, his eyes staring at the sway of your hips and the fabric that clung to your skin. He let out a groan as he grabbed his jacket putting it on, he was annoyed at how close he had been to you, how he would have kissed and fucked you in a matter of seconds.

Stepping out of the door as he looked at his stupid little workers, he noticed you being cornered near the door, your fiancés eyes glimmering as the man stared at you. You seemed aloof as you tried to not meet the mans eyes, walking up to you both, Toji looked down at his stupid workers bee. “We need to go,” he spoke stoically as he gripped your wrist, removing you away from your fiancé mid conversation.

“It’s rude to interrupt,” you muttered as you both walked towards the elevator.

“It’s rude to talk in work hours to your stupid fiancé,” he mumbled once again, not bothering to hide hid boredom of the conversation as he let out a yawn.

You shook your head watching how you both stepped foot into the cramped elevator, the way his broad shoulders bumped against your own, you felt suffocated by the way his gaze remained on your body. You hated having to work for such an attractive man, he had it all, the money, the looks, but in his head all he really wanted was you. With that stupid smile and perfect face, your fiancé didn’t deserve you, he did or maybe he just hadn’t gotten his dick wet in a while.

As Toji looked down at you he reminisced on a day he could imagine relationships and what nots but with you, you seemed like a porcelain doll to keep and preserve, maybe all you needed was to be broken.

“I had the new proposal printed off, I’ll give it to you in the car,” you spoke professionally, rummaging through your bag to find the plastic wallet that held the documents. He didn’t care for a meeting at this moment, after your previous mishap his brain had become wild with thoughts and ideas as he looked almost bored at the prospect of spending three hours hearing a proposal.

You both stepped outside of the elevator, walking towards the car as you told the driver the address, Toji already getting in the back as you passed the files to him. Crossing your legs, Toji saw the way your thighs squished together, the way your skirt rose, and your tender delicateness was on show.

Licking his lips as he moved his gaze to your blouse, the buttons holding your cleavage in as he tried to suppress the disgusting thoughts he was having over you. There was an obvious sexual tension between the two of you, but you weren’t one to cheat and he didn’t want to lose his secretary over one fuck.

He flicked through the proposal, grumbling at how shit it was before you sighed already having read it and having an interest in it. “I think the idea is good,” you mumble out yourself, flicking through the notepad you had.

“And how would you know?” Toji questioned staring up at you, he watched as you brushed your hair away from your face, your eyes glued to the notepad and a loud sigh came from your mouth.

“I read the proposal and worked out the numbers it’d work in our favour and with the percentage they’re giving I would go for it,” you mumbled out some figures as Toji played a close eye on the way you flicked the pen between your lips. He finally saw you meet his gaze as you stopped your mumbling, “sorry for stepping out of line.”

“I didn’t realise you knew that much about the proposal,” he saw how the driver was pulling up to the building as you finally gave a reply to him.

It was a statement but sounded ever so sweet to his ears, “that’s my job Sir, to know everything inside and outside concerning you and the business.”

You probably hadn’t even realised what your words held, but Toji did, and he was going to play with this advantage, “inside and out…interesting.”

“What is it Sir?” you noticed the driver stop as you were ready to take your seatbelt off and open the car door.

He stopped you, his hand on your thigh as he turned to the driver, “outside.” The driver knew to never question his superior as he scurried out, not wanting another shouting like last time.

“Is everything okay, Sir?” The stress of the title made his cock grow even more, how sweet and succulent you sounded with one term. “Sir?”

“Can you shut up?” He leant back against the seat, his hand against the window as he played with one strand of his hair, you stayed silent, his other hand brushing against your skirt and thigh as you pushed the muscle together. “Aren’t you the obedient type?”

It almost sounded like a joke as he chuckled lightly but the stoic nature of it made you shiver instead, “Sir, we’re going to be…”

His hand moved closer from your thigh, moving past your skirt as he stared down at his little secretary. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“I don’t understand the question…”

His fingers skimmed to your side, touching the underwear that encompassed your hips as you looked at him with glossed eyes, “you do understand, I see everyday how your skirt gets shorter, your blouse tighter, don’t think I don’t see you whoring yourself out in the office.”

“I haven…”

His hand quickly moved out of your skirt slapping your thigh as a red bruise of a handprint was forming, “you fucking were, you wanna know how fucking hard it is to watch you bend over in that pathetically short skirt, or you leaning over me with your tits in my face.”

“I…” You had become speechless; your toying and teasing had been noticed you had almost given up on any encounter with your boss. You didn’t love your fiancé enough, he wasn’t the one for you, a marriage forced on you both where he had decided to make you his when all you wanted was freedom. All you wanted was Toji.

“Speak up,” he mocked lightly.

You looked down playing with your fingers as you felt his hand grab onto your jaw, forcing you to stare right into his dark eyes, “I w…want you,” you finally croaked out.

“Too bad,” he let go of your jaw as he left the car, the wind and sounds of life outside the car had emerged as you finally looked at yourself in the rear-view mirror. Horrific and disgusted at yourself as you got out of the car and followed your boss to the meeting, three hours of hell to endure.

He was the first to step through the doors, the meeting with some men you’d never met before, but you could spot them from a mile away. White hair with blue tinted sunglasses and an opened up black suit with a blue shirt, he seemed boyish and somebody that Toji would entertain for a bit, the other with black hair that was tied up and his own matching suit in a much deeper rouge . They contrasted one another, stepping through the doors yourself.

Their eyes fixated on you as Toji smirked at the way your entrance had made the two men almost freeze, the black-haired man shaking his head as he nudged his friend. Both introduced one another to Toji as you sat beside your boss. It felt suffocating under his guise, his fingers occasionally tapping against the pen he held as both Geto and Gojo spoke about what they had proposed. You already knew a lot of it, seeing how they were able to speak calmly to a man who was intimidating.

You continued to write down the notes of the meeting, Toji asking occasional questions as they answered sophisticatedly. Toji turned to you, seeing how Gojo had occasionally watched over you taking notes, you seemed to be of interest to the man, which Toji really did hate. “Y/n, you seemed to like what they’re selling, what do you say?”

It sounded like a euphemism as you pushed against the table to finally look up at the three men, staying calm and collected, you were about to talk when you could feel Toji staring right through you as if he was imagining everything he had ever wanted to do to you. “I…I…I like what they’re selling and think….think it would be a good inve…investment.”

You could barely speak as Toji nodded, he trusted your decision and couldn’t lie and say the proposal wasn’t a good one, Geto took him towards his office to print off the paperwork as you were left with Gojo, alone.

“He's your fiancé then,” Gojo asked as he sat on the long wooden desk staring down at you. He had noticed the ring but couldn’t help but ask, having seen a tension for the past three hours between you and your boss.

“No, my fiancé is a colleague,” you muttered slowly, it seemed embarrassing to even speak about your fiancé how much you actually hated the man. Pressing harder on your pen Gojo moved to sit right in front of you, his legs landing on the ground as you turned to face his crystal blue eyes.

Gojo chuckled lightly as he watched you look up to him, “doesn’t seem like you want that.”

“Excuse me,” you were trying to act polite but the urge to tell this man to fuck off was searing through you.

“It's just you and your boss seem very comfy together…” Gojo noticed Toji walking back with Geto, both speaking about something as he leant down to meet your ear. “…as if he wants to have you himself.”

Toji watched as Gojo moved back away from your ear as you looked down, not meeting any of the men’s gaze, “Y/n, if you’re done flirting, we’re leaving.”

“I wasn’t…” you mumble as you quickly grab your stuff and go with the man. His hand resting on the bottom of your back, as he clenched his jaw.

As you both stepped out of the building, the driver looking fearful at the two of you, “get a taxi,” Toji passed the man some money taking the keys as he opened the door for you, Toji taking the driver’s seat with a slam of the door.  “You’re my secretary Y/n, stop whoring yourself…”

Toji was left speechless with the way your hand just reached his face, catching your hand as your eyes were glossed and for the first time he saw you vulnerable. “Why…why do you always blame me?”

He dropped your hand as you tried to speak without stuttering but Toji became quiet, “he shouldn’t have touched you…I shouldn’t have touched you.”

Toji looked down as he begin to drive back to the office, he looked up seeing how your gaze had become enchanted with the sunset, “I wanted you…I wanted you so fucking much but you…you just see me as a whore.”

It had been silent when you spoke up, finally collecting your thoughts as you had a new sense of confidence as you were confronting the man, “Y/n…”

“No Sir, you’re listening to me now, you treat me as if I mean nothing to you, I see your lingering looks, I fucking see it and I let it occur because I just wanted you to see me, see past this stupid ring and like me.” His hand stayed firm against the steering wheel as he was seeing the different emotions you felt towards him.

“I fucking see you, I do Y/n, you just…you have a fiancé, you have a custom life ready for you”

You interrupt him, “I…I don’t love him.”

He reverses into the parking spot as he finally meets your eyes, those stupid beautiful eyes, “fuck, Y/n…”

His mouth attaches onto yours, as his large hands cup your face, his tongue gliding past your own as your hands moved into his hair. You almost felt in heaven, as he undid your seatbelt and his own, his hand roaming against your skirt as gripped the back of your thigh to make you sit on his lap. Spit and saliva mixed together as you kissed him with such intensity, his other hand moving to undo the buttons of your blouse, which almost felt like a tear.

He couldn’t help but cup your chest with one of his hands, squeezing and massaging at your fat as one of his fingers played with your hardened nipple. “Fuck…fuck…fuck,” he groaned through the kiss as he felt your cunt through underwear move against his thigh.

Letting go of your mouth as you both stopped kissing, foreheads touching as he looked at you, your finger tracing the scar on his lip, he almost gave out another moan at the feeling. Your lips moving to kiss at the scar as you continued to move your lips on his thigh, “I want you…want you…so badly Sir…”

Your moans filled the car as you continued to move your clothes cunt against his thigh, your head at his shoulder as he moved his mouth down to your tits, undoing your bra as he threw the fabric into the backseat along with your blouse, “you gonna cum just from my thigh, pathetic.”

“Want…want to feel it…” he knew what you wanted, as he continued to circle his tongue around the bud of your nipple. “Want to feel your thi….” Your moans were almost intoxicating as he moved your skirt higher, seeing the way your underwear had become soaked from the movement, he watched as your fingers moved to his belt. The way even though you were trying to concentrate on removing his trousers you still moved your clit against him, he moved his own hips upwards as his trousers moved off of him, lifting your cunt off before landing back on the muscle.

Your eyes fixated on the print of his cock through his black boxers as you moved your hips against his thigh, “we…we should remove these.”

He slapped at your ass as he pulled your underwear, a slight rip occurring as he tugged on it to allow the fabric to stay on you with your cunt on show. “Fuck…To…Toji,” your name in his head had never sounded the way you had just moaned.

He bounced his thigh against your moving hips as his fingers moved to your clit, eyes fixated on the way your tits bounced in front of his eyes. “Say…say it again baby,” he moaned as he could feel his cock become excruciatingly harder.

“Toji…Toji…fuck…faster,” your hair was a mess as he moved his mouth up again, capturing your lips to feel you moan in his mouth. The bouncing of his thigh against your cunt had made him become even hornier, hands roaming your perfect body as he pushed your back against the steering wheel. You were just so perfect as he could see how tired you had become, “cu…cum…”

“You want to cum baby, cum on my thigh, go on…go on baby,” he groaned as his muscle tensed under your clit, your rubbed against him faster as he felt himself wanting to put his cock into you.

You moved faster as you felt the coil in you snap, cum gushing out as his thigh became stained in white, the rubbing between your cunt and his thigh spread the white cum as he looked up at your dazed face. “Pretty, pretty girl…”

“Want…want your cock, Sir,” you mumbled as your hand moved to his cock and the other began to unbutton his white shirt, he placed his hands on top as he gave you a sickly-sweet smirk.

“Let’s have us an audience baby,” you tilted your head as he grabbed your jaw, giving a soft short kiss to you, “you going to sort yourself out and meet me in my office, okay baby.”

“O…Okay sir,” you spoke with a drool coming from your mouth, he moved his thumb to push the drool back in as he watched you go back into your own seat, pulling your skirt down as your underwear had been ruined.

He quickly put his trousers back on, the stains of cum evident on them and his thigh as his hair was a mess from your tugging and you looked fucked out of your mind. He left you to put your shirt and bra on as he went up to his office, waiting for his treat to arrive.

He walked past his workers as they seemed to be getting ready to leave for the night, he looked happier than normal, and the scent of sex lingered against him as he could feel traces of your cum remain on his thigh and clothes. He saw how your fiancé looked at him in confusion, his dishevelled look that made him question where his to be wife was.

Toji went into his office looking around as he was met with the darkness from the sky sneaking through the window as he looked down at the room. Ever since you came you had livened the place up, speaking about how plants would look amazing in the office and then the next day carrying a few as you doted it around the room. Your coat lay on one of the chairs as you had bought an air filter for the room as well.

He looked down at his desk, counting down for your time to come.

You had tried to look as professional as you normally were, but with cum staining your thighs and a lack of underwear which you had thrown in the bin, you looked a mess. You looked at yourself through the mirror in the elevator, trying  to smooth out your hair to hide the strands that had become a mess as your face looked a mess.

Smudged lipstick and clumps of mascara across your cheeks, you were praying nobody was in the office, even if Toji wanted an audience you just wanted to finally have the man. You moved the lipstick back onto your lip as you wiped the mascara with your other finger. Before finally stepping out of the elevator, it seemed like luck wasn’t on your side as you saw your fiancé in the office.

Trying to stay hidden as you walk towards Toji’s office without your fiancé noticing you, but the feeling of his hand grabbing your arm seemed to falter your plans. “We’re going home,” he mumbled as he watched your chest heave, one of the top buttons being almost ripped off.

“I have to finish this proposal off,” you lied trying to shake his hand off of you.

“You can do it tomorrow…” before you could even speak, the sound of Toji made both of you look at the man, he looked smug as he walked towards you both.

“She really can’t, I’ll drop her back home when we’re done,” your fiancé clenched his jaw as Toji removed his hand off your arm and led you into his office, “we’ll only be an hour or two.”

Your fiancé gave a pissed off look as he watched how Toji’s hand moved to your ass just as you both walked into his office. The sound of the lock making your fiancé know exactly what was to occur and knowing he could do nothing about it.

“You come in dressed like a stripper...so strip,” Toji spoke as he leant against his desk, arms crossed as you looked at him with doe eyes.

You moved closer to him as you smirked, “help me,” you whined as he rolled his eyes.

His hands on an instant pulling at your buttons, some even falling to the floor. He undid your bra as his mouth moved onto one of your tits sucking at it as he left a string of saliva from your nipple to his mouth. “Ya gonna let me fuck these,” he mumbled as all his dreams were about to come true.

You nodded as his hands moved to pull your skirt down, his finger moving along your clit right to the bud as he pressed against it, “I’m gonna make you forget all about him.”

“Want…want to only think about you,” you mumbled as he moved you towards his desk chair. He  shook off his jacket and started to undo his shirt buttons. You licked your lips as you watched him teasingly undo each button, you had sat on top of his desk, as he could see how puffed your clit had become just from thigh fucking him.

Undoing his trousers as you could see your cum stains still on his thigh, your eyes fixated on his hard cock that was just waiting for your mouth. He grabbed a fistful of your hair to force you to look up at him, “gotta get this mouth ready baby,” the sound of spit building up in his mouth was heard as he watched you open up, your tongue hanging out to taste the spit in your mouth.

“To…Toji more,” you groaned as your hand moved to pull at his boxers, he let you do it, watching as his cock sprung up against his stomach. You began to leave the red marks of lipstick against his neck and chest before you pushed him onto his chair, letting you fall to your knees. “Wan…want to make you happy?” You mewled with your legs pushed together, Toji watched as you were at the perfect height to give him what he wanted.

Your tongue licked from the base right to tip as the groan of your name came from his lips, he watched as you cupped at your breasts, letting both fall to the sides of Toji’s dick as you pushed both to rub against his dick, moving them back and forth. Toji felt in heaven, he had wished for this since he had seen how tight your blouses had become.

His eyes watching how each time the precum leaked out it helped your chest to move back and forth against his cock. He hadn’t expected your mouth to be ready for his cock, as just as your breasts moved back down your mouth covered the tip, kitten licking at the blushed tip you circled your tongue against it. Watching as Toji’s hands gripped onto your head to push you to take more of his cock, your droll dripped down onto your breasts as you moved them quicker along his cock.

Toji could feel his own orgasm hit as you moved quicker, each time sucking on his cock for a bit longer to get him to snap on your tits and mouth. “Fu…fuck Y/n, faster.”

He groaned out as he watched you move quicker, the way the smudges or red encompassed his cock and how obedient you were to him, “cum…fuck Toji…cum in my…mouth,” you mumbled as each time you took his tip in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as cum spluttered on the inside of your mouth and against your tits. You let go of his cock as he looked down at you, cum dripping from your breasts as it fell to your stomach and the way you swallowed the cum as he saw the string of cum encompassed your mouth. “Want me to fuck you baby, you want my cock?”

You nodded eagerly as he grabbed onto your waist as you stood up, putting you on his lap as he turned his chair to look out into the night sky. “Want your cock,” you moved your hips against his cock, wanting to feel it get hard as your hand moved to touch it.

He groaned as he looked at you softly, “gonna fill you up baby, show them who you belong too.”

He didn’t leave any room for you to reply as he moved your cunt right on top of his cock, letting you sink in with a heavy moan at the feeling of being filled right up. “Go…good girl, taking me all,” he kissed you softly as his hands moved to move your hips up and down as you rested your head against his chest. “I’m going to take care of you princess, gonna make you happy.”

Toji didn’t know what he was saying. Maybe it was the fact your cunt was squeezing at his cock as you moved your hips or the intimacy he felt as you laid on his broad chest, kissing at his chest softly. “I want to be with you,” it was the first coherent sentence you had made since he had begun fucking you, but he knew it was the truth.

He watched you moan softly against his chest as he looked out to the sky, he wanted to make you feel happy, softly moving his cock in and out of your walls each time going deeper and faster into your cunt. His hand had gravitated to your clit as he played with the numb hearing you mewl against him and occasionally give out a loud groan of his name.

You seemed at peace with his cock stuffed into you, he normally hated slow sex, hated the fact he couldn’t quickly make you cum. But with you, he felt secure to do something like this, because you were never going to leave him.

You gave him a tearful look as he brushed your hair away from your eyes, wiping the tears as he kissed you softly, as both your tongues moved together. He felt you move against his cock, lifting yourself up before slamming back down as if you knew your orgasm was coming.

He continued to kiss you, hands cupping your face as he let you move your cunt back and forth against his cock. You had been wet enough to take him well, he was almost surprised that you had barely complained about his size but knew that you would be complaining about feeling broken any time soon.

“Cu…cum…” you mumbled through the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He groaned feeling his own orgasm come as he moved his hips to move further into you, hitting the back of your cervix each time, “gonna…fuck, gonna fill you up baby.”

At the sound of that you let out a moan as the white gush fell from your cunt, the way he moved easily through your cum to move faster into your cunt, he watched as you kissed at his neck, red stains continuing to form against his neck as he rolled his eyes feeling his own cum shoot out of his cock and into your cunt.

He watched how dazed you had become, the way he softly came out of your cunt, placing you against the desk, as he pushed the cum back into your cunt with one finger. He knew you had no underwear and would need something to keep it in till you could get rid of it. But it almost turned him on at how you looked there lying, tired out of your mind. He kissed softly at your clit as he moved his finger to let the cum seep out onto the desk.

He left you there as he went to find some spare clothes in one of the cabinets, passing you them as you finally looked up at him. “Sorry for ruining your desk,” you said, realising his desk had been covered in sweat and slick.

“I could make you clean it up with your mouth,” he mumbled as he helped you put the shirt on, it was too big for you as he did the buttons and gave a slap of your ass as you turned to get the boxers and skirt you had worn this morning.

“Toji…” you groaned as he smirked, putting his own clothes on.

He touches your ass with both his hands cupping it as he leans his frame against your shoulders, “it’s just so pretty baby, want to fuck you there now.”

“How are you still horny?” you spoke as you turned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “next time you can.”

He smirked kissing you softly as he gripped onto your ass not caring if he left a bruise or not, “think they heard.” He questioned as you shrugged, almost hoping they didn’t, “come on, I said I’d drop you home.”

“I don’t want to go home…he’ll be there,” you spoke sadly as you grabbed your bag. Toji looked up at you in confusion as he went to unlock the door. He had semi wiped the desk but knew he’d have to clean it properly tomorrow.

“Who said I was taking you there, princess?” He chuckled as he grabbed your hand, letting you out of the door first.

Both your eyes met the face of your fiancé as he looked at you with fury in his eyes, “you fucking whore.”

You stayed silent almost standing behind Toji out of fear of what he might do, “what are you doing here?”

“I…You slept with my fucking fiancé,” a red fury ran through him as you looked at Toji, who had a smile on his face.

“Ex-fiancé, you weren’t satisfying her needs,” he smirked as he gripped onto your hand. Your fiancé was ready to pounce on Toji, but the man spoke before he could do anything else, “your desk should be cleared by tonight and I’ll expect your key card and keys to be on your desk tomorrow.”

“You…you can’t fire me,” everything to do with you seemed gone as the man stood in front of you. You knew the amount of money someone of his standing had been getting that’s why he had been able to get you the secretary job but at the click of Toji’s fingers it had all gone.

Toji moved past your fiancé as he held you close by him, “I just did, now you’re wasting more of my time by talking, when all I want is to fuck Y/n.”

“She’s a fucking whore, she’ll sleep with someone else and fuck you over too,” your ex shouted in a disarray as you turned to meet his eye.

You removed the ring and threw it at him, “I deserved better than having someone who forced a marriage onto me.”

Both you and Toji looked at one another as he gripped your hand leaving your fiancé jobless and alone. “Toji…” you muttered as you went into his car, he looked at you softly waiting to hear your question, “do you…do you want something between us?”

“That’s a stupid question Y/n,” you looked down playing with your fingers as Toji grabbed onto them, “you’re what I want Y/n, plus fucking you is a bonus.”

He chuckled as you playfully hit his arm rolling your eyes as you hoped that this new relationship would prosper.

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

To die for

Summary: The man who broke your heart comes back to protect you from the man you were falling in love with.

Pairing: Dave York x fem!Reader x John Wick

Wordcount: 1.4k

Warnings: angst

A/N: A little late for this weeks writer Wednesday (tagging @autumnleaves1991-blog & @clydesducktape) but here I am. This is sort of a prequel to a full fic I have been planing for a little while. Hope you enjoy x

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The Continental in Washington wasn’t your favorite place to be. Your father insisted that you stayed at a Continental hotel if possible. Sometimes you felt like he was too careful, always concerned for your safety. That it was his work that potentially put you in danger seemed to be something he chose to ignore.

Your father was the head of the Polish mafia and was doing everything he could to get a seat at the high table. You dreaded the day he would succeed because he would, you were sure of it. This would take away the little part of a normal life you had at the moment. You argued with him every single time about getting a bodyguard. Until now you got out of it. He had summoned you for tonight, wanting to talk to you about something. Groaning you let yourself fall in the comfy bed, looking up at the ceiling. You wanted more from life than staying in random hotels. You wanted a normal job. A normal life. Someone to come home to each night. You heard your phone ping with a message, a smile sneaking to your face immediately as you read who texted you.

Dave was everything you wanted and the only reason you had been staying in the city for this long. The two of you had met at the gym. Him coming there straight from work, you because you were bored. He had invited you for coffee. And then for dinner, which turned into a different kind of workout you had felt for days. He told you he was freshly divorced and not looking for something more than a good fuck. Which was okay in the beginning. But three months in you were beginning to fall for him. Of course you were, you always choose emotionally unavailable men.

Do not think about him you thought to yourself.

Shaking your head to yourself you replied to his text, telling him that you would be at his place in an hour. If your feelings would get hurt again the least you could get out of it was a good fuck.

Of course you were late. Walking into the mansion you grew up in you took a moment to breathe in deeply. Ever since your mother died this place seemed colder and sad, much like your father. Yet sometimes you could see hints of the man who took you to the lake to watch the ducks when you were a child. You winced as you walked, feeling just the right kind of sore. Dave had made you cum five times in 2 hours and then he had cooked. Okay he reheated some Chinese noodles, but you loved the gesture.

You nodded at the security in front of your Father’s office.

“He’s expecting you,” he said before he opened the door. Your father was sitting at this desk. Everything still looked the same. Dark leather chairs in front of his dark wooden desk. When you were younger you had spend a lot of time in here, mostly because of the many books that lined up at the various shelfs at the walls on the second level. The only memories you had from him after your mother died were him at this god damn desk.

“Hello Father,” you said and he finally looked up. For a moment you could see his eyes light up, his lips almost twitching into a smile.

“Sit down,” he said instead and you suppressed the urge to sigh or roll your eyes. Sitting down you crossed your legs before you looked at him again, letting your eyes linger on some photos on his desk. Photos of you. And Dave. Together.

“Did you really send someone after me?” you asked, already feeling anger bubbling in your chest. Photos of you and Dave at Dinner. At the gym. Kissing each other in front of his apartment.

“You should be glad I did.”

“Really? You could have just asked and…”

“You would have denied it. You can’t continue seeing him.”

You laughed at that.

“And why is that?”

“Because he’s a CIA hitman who also works private contracts if the money is right. He was hired by the Dorokhov’s to get close to you and therefore to me,” he said. You looked at your father, your mind racing. You knew about the Dorokhov’s. It was either them or your family for the next seat at the high table.

“No... No that’s…”

“Księżniczko,” your father said softly. You looked up at him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. But you have to understand. This man is dangerous. He is using you to get to me. He might kill you. I can’t let that happen.”

You breathed in deeply, closing your eyes. Dave always said it was something casual, that he didn’t know when he would be leaving for work. Your mind was already analyzing every word Dave had ever said to you. Dave knew your body better than you knew it yourself. You hadn’t felt things like that since… Do not think about him

“Are you sure?” you whispered.

“I have an informant who verified everything.”

“An informant?” you asked. Opening your eyes you felt a shiver running down your neck as your father looked at something behind you. Or someone. No. No. No.

“He never stopped looking out for you,” your father said softly and you shook your head. You could smell him. He was still using the aftershave you had gifted him for your first anniversary. This could not be happening. Standing up abruptly you clenched your fists at your side.

“Is that why he married someone else?” you asked angrily as you turned away from your father and found yourself looking at the man who had broken your heart. Warm brown eyes finding yours.

“Get out of my way Jonathan,” you hissed.

“Kochanie…” he whispered and you shook your head again, pushing him out of your way and he let you.

“I’m not doing this,” you said as you stormed out of your father’s office, hearing footsteps following you. You ran into your old room, locking the door behind you.

You hated this place. With your back against the door you let yourself cry. Why was your life so fucking complicated? The man you were falling in love with was potentially sent to kill you and the man who had broken your heart just appeared out of thin air as if nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t broke up with you after living together for almost five years. After making plans for the future. After…

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts.

“Princess, please open the door,” it was your father. Hesitantly you opened the door and let him in. He closed the door behind him.

“I know he broke your heart, but he still cared for you. And he’s the best, you know that.”

“Why is he here, Dad?” you asked.

“He’s the best,” your father repeated. “As soon as he found out about Mr. York he came to see me.”

“Why does he even care?”

“You have to ask him.”

“Don’t care.”

“You have to. Because until all of this is sorted out John will be with you.”

Sadly you chuckled.

“And I probably won’t have a say in this?”

“No. I know I haven’t been the best Father for you. But I want you safe. And John Wick will keep you safe,” he kissed your forehead, before he walked out of your room, leaving the door open.

Tears kept running down your cheeks as you turned around, seeing John stand in the door. Dressed in all black as usual, his hair longer than you remembered. He just looked at you, an expression on his face you couldn’t name. Slowly you walked towards the door, standing in front of him. You always felt so small, yet safe with him. But that was a lifetime ago. He parted his lips, probably to say something as you shook your head. Instead of talking to him, you closed the door in his face, letting your forehead fall against the door.

There was a time you longed for John Wick. To have him back in your life. To be held by him. But right now you longed to be in the arms of Dave York, the man who might had been hired to kill either you or your father.

Translations:

Księżniczko: Princess

Kochani: Baby, Darling

[aliensunflower-fics]

Marinette Changes Schools: A funny little Lila salt prompt

So, there are a lot of ‘Marinette changes schools’ au’s and I love a whole bunch of them don't get me wrong. BUT the one thing I haven’t seen yet is Marinette changing schools not because of Lila or salt but simply because her parents are moving and they want her to attend a school close to home. So without further ado let me sell you on my little idea: 

Lila has been plotting weeks worth of plans and lies, she’s thought up some sob stories about being stalked, about near death experiences, about celebrities that are like her family. She has plans for Marinette all the ways she could make the girl look bad and all the ways she could force Adrien to see her. That all goes out the window one day when she gets to school and it's a sob fest. There is a clear air of dread and dismay, the blue skies she saw on the way to school replaced with heavy storm clouds. And when she gets to class it's worse. Marinette and Alya are hugging and crying, Adrien looks like he's been shot, Nino and Kim are demanding to know ‘why’ even Chloe looks upset, her blue eyes a little glassy. Lila quickly learns why, Marinette’s parents' business is doing GREAT so great in fact that they have decided to open a second location! The twist? They also decided to move INTO the new location and with it being on the other side of Paris and her parents fears for their daughters safety that means Marinette is moving to a new school!

Now Lila doesn’t even have to school her face into a practiced expression of shock. She genuinely is shocked here she’d been planning months in advance picturing the ways she would destroy her rivals life and steal her friends! And now just like that Marinette is MOVING? Of course Lila quickly decides this is a good thing! After all if Marinette is out of the picture ruling the school will be that much easier. Sure Chloe might be queen bee but with Marinette gone people will be looking to replace her! In walks Lila Rossi, a gorgeous upstart model with a heart of gold and connections coming out of her bangs! She’d rule the school and Adrien would fall for her, then Marinette would probably come crawling back desperate for her old friends only to learn she’d snatched them all up! It was brilliant! And with Marinette gone she could probably do it in record time! So Lila covers up her smirk and says she’s devastated to hear that the twin tailed girl would be leaving and begins plotting.

In the month that follows Lila leaves Marinette alone letting her have her friends for what would be for the last time. After all if everyone still loved the designer when she left they’d be all the more eager to replace her with a new and better version. Of course just because Lila is playing nice doesn’t mean she enjoys it. Alya is practically glued to the girl and ignores Lila even when she’s not trying to sabotage Marinette. Adrien is acting like his life is ending and all anyone will talk about is Marinette. When she checks social media it's all just pictures of ‘old-great times with Marinette’ or new photos and videos of helping the girl pack up and move into her new room, which Lila seethes about for a week when she sees the photos of the spacious luxurious room with a private bath. Apparently the Dupain-Cheng’s new bakery was in a pretty ritzy rich neighborhood. During school Marinette is mobbed by a constant stream of people begging her to stay and when they accept that not happening they all at least beg her to ‘come back and visit’ Marinette promises and Lila has to hide her snort. Fat chance of that actually happening. 

Finally the last day arrives and Lila has to hold back the urge to gag as everyone fills the nearby park giving Marinette gifts and heartfelt goodbyes. Adrien is the last one to offer his gift and Lila seethes as Marinette gingerly opens the box with a gasp and pulls out two brand new pink hair ribbons, and Adrien goes on to say that they’re made of imported silk! SILK, as if the little baker brat deserved silk! The whole exchange is cliche and romantic as Marinette removes her current hair ribbons to tie in the new ones and Adrien ties the old ones around his wrist like some idiot who doesn’t realize what a love struck longing look he's giving his ‘good friend’. But Lila just keeps reminding herself its just a bit longer and sure enough not long after the hideously gooey exchange between Adrien and Marinette is over the designer is leaving with more tears and farewells. FINALLY Lila thinks she can get back to what matters! Ruling her empire.

As it turns out ruling her empire is not what she thinks. For the first month after Marinette leaves all anyone will talk about is the photos she’s posted online. The first week its ALL about HER new school is a private well known academy with uniforms, and isn't Marinette cute in it? And look at her in her custom black kitty thigh highs? Lila wants to scream, but not as much as when she catches Adrien drooling over the photo of said thigh highs and twirling the old nasty hair ribbons around his wrist. The second week its all about the video tour of her new home and school that Marinette sent Alya. Lila glares the whole time as Alya puts the video on the projector at lunch so everyone can see the big new gorgeous bakery and the beautiful house on the second floor and her stupid big bedroom that should belong to someone like herself and not some bratty bakers daughter! By the third week Lila has had enough and fakes some nasty texts from Marinette hoping to speed up the process of helping her classmates move on to HERSELF. It backfires spectacularly with Alya going on the warpath to learn who would dare frame Marinette now that she’s gone. Lila is starting to realize that somehow Marinette has reached a higher level of popularity now that she’s gone. But she reminds herself it won't last forever that in ‘just a little bit longer’ everyone will forget the baker. Right?

A little bit longer. Never happens. Lila asks the girls to hang out that weekend with plans of winning them over with some juicy celeb story? Alya says they all already made plans to hope aboard the train to spend the whole weekend at Marinette’s new place! Lila tries to corner Adrien into a date after a photo shoot. He disappears and all she hears from the workers on set is that he's been looking up some new bakery on the other side of town. [Marinette is suddenly being visited by Chat Noir every other night but she figures she must have moved closer to where his civilian self lives if hes dropping by so much.] She tries to throw a party for the class? They can't. Marinette will be coming out to the park today! With her new school friends!

AH HA! Lila see’s opportunity and decides to tag along. After all if Marinette has new friends Lila can twist it! She’ll whisper about her replacing them all! Make them hate Marinette’s new friends! Fill them with jealousy till they hate Marinette! It's BRILLIANT! And, it fails in less than two minutes, with Alya learning about Aurore being a ballet dancer and the two girls bonding over their mutual love of DANCE?? How the heck was Lila supposed to know Alya had been a champion ballet dancer in her younger years! Then Nino is bonding with some kid named Allen or whatever about classical vs modern music and how to blend the two! And some kid named Claude is joking with Kim, Max, and Alix! And this is definitely not how things were supposed to go!

The worst part is Adrien, who is passive aggressively fighting for Marinette against Kagami AND Felix who are both all too eager to show how ‘close’ they’ve gotten to the baker's daughter while Adrien’s been across the city. Kagami is all to happy to show off that she ALSO bought Marinette some new silk hair ribbons [in a red shade that happens to match her fencing uniform] while Felix eagerly wisks Marinette away the moment Kagami and Adrien are distracted the two fencers find him openly flirting with an oblivious Marinette her hair down because ‘oh felix was nice enough to help me get some leaves out of my hair and said i should leave it like this!’ [while both Kagami and Adrien agree she looks beyond cute they know this means war.] Needless to say Lila didn’t realize that Marinette was that damn popular with men and woman.

The week after the meet up Lila is worn so thin she’s ready to snap. Not only did the class not get jealous but they actually became FRIENDS with all of Marinette’s new buddies and were planning many more meet ups including a paintball war over the baker girl that saturday. Adrien had taken to openly mumbling to himself about changing schools and how he ‘cant believe’ his own flesh and blood would so openly flirt with HIS very good friend! And what was with Kagami showing off how easily she can pick up and carry Marinette? And why did she invite Marinette to watch their next tournament! He needed to train, what if he lost?? In front of Marinette?! And then she thought he was too weak to keep her safe like all good friends are supposed to do! Clearly Kagami was trying to replace him as Marinette’s very good friend! Poor Nino who was sitting next to the boy had actually volunteered to switch with Lila but she came up with a lie to avoid it, she’d had enough of hearing about Marinette from Alya and Juleka and the rest of the girls, she didn’t also need to hear it from Adrien! 

It all comes to a head that Saturday during the paintball tournament when Lila now at her wits end her plans out the window her schemes barely thought out hopes to find something ANYTHING to ruin Marinette’s day and reputation and everything. But Lila just so happens to get completely pelted with paintballs everytime she so much as moves and then later gets ignored when trying to wow Marinette’s new friends, and then gets called out by Felix and Kagami snaps and finally she snaps and SCREAMS and runs off and not even a dark little butterfly comes to help her ruin the perfect day. As it turns out Hawkmoth was a little preoccupied with trying to save his business after all the computers and data involved in his precise scheduling were mysteriously corrupted suddenly freeing up his son's time and schedule so he could spend more with HIS very good friend and no one else's. Kagami and Felix apparently had the same idea as when he gets to her new house their already their doing their best to get on her parents good side.

Basically just give me some comedic, fluffy, Lila salty, Marinette changes school fics. Because I love them ok.

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[chasingpj]

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐝-𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 5,236

warnings: none? pls let me know if i missed anything

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! i hope you guys like this chapter. i fell in a little bit of a rut about my writing so I've been holding off on posting but I think I'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i'm so fried after editing this so if i happened to miss any typos, sorry, i tried haha.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

The heat and dimness from the cabin surround you like a warm hug making it challenging to stay awake. Your eyelids droop against your wishes to study, fatigue messing with your vision as it blurs the letters on the page you were trying to read. As you find yourself mindlessly reading words, you decide to give in, and soon you’re settled in an in-between state of consciousness.

Suddenly, you’re standing at the entryway of the kitchen in your home, the first thing you notice is the scent of your favorite meal as it fills your nostrils, and you smile sleepily as your father looks at you. He’s hovering over the stove, right hand stirring something in a saucepan, and he smiles widely at you.

“Stella, you’re home!” He announces as he pushes his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Go, sit! Dinner is almost ready.”

You smile at the nickname your father has called you since you were a child. He said that the first time you cried in his arms, your little body illuminated like a supernova, and since then, he’s called you Stella, the Latin word for star. You make your way past the kitchen island on your left, noticing the history channel playing on the small TV in the corner of the counter like always. A sense of nostalgia hits you in your core, and you sigh, feeling safe. As much as you loved the camp, homesickness was unavoidable.

You settle yourself at the black round table in the back of the kitchen, chin resting on your palm as you look outside of the window beside you. The small garden of herbs and flowers you have in the backyard is as you remember. Every summer, your father cultivates herbs and flowers in dedication to your mother. He uses most of the herbs for spells, and at the end of the summer, he would make a bouquet out of the brightest flowers in the garden and rest them on your mother’s alter.

The reminder of your mother made your stomach feel heavy, and you quickly push the thoughts of her away. You weren’t in the mood to deal with them, especially not in a dream like this. The thumping of Atticus’s footsteps coming down the stairs catches your attention, and soon your brother appears in the doorway with his usual wide smile.

“Hey! I thought you were making my favorite tonight.” His shoulders slump, and he playfully narrows his eyes at you. You shrug,

“What can I say? Must suck not being the favorite,” you joke, and Atticus gasps dramatically. The sound of your father’s laughter fills the room as he tilts his head back.

“I love you guys equally! That’s not nice to say,” he says as he points the spatula at you as he squints. You snort as Atticus joins you at the table,

“Yeah, Y/n, that’s not nice,” he repeats, poking his tongue out at you, and you return the action. You and your brother have a short competition of who can stick out their tongue harder as your father puts the food on the table. At the sight of your favorite meal, you let Atticus win, turning to put a portion on your plate.

Amidst your dinner conversation with your father and your brother, the deep growl rumbling in Ambrose’s chest makes its way into your dream. A soft hum leaves your lips, your neck relaxing against your will, and your head jolts forward as your cheek slips off your palm. You blink a few times, groaning since you’ve lost your dream.

“Ambrose, shush.” Your chin returns onto your hand, and you submit to your fatigue once again. The image of a ravenous bunny, cartoonishly stomping its way through a candy cane forest, filled your mind, projected on your eyelids like a movie in a theater. It’s too ridiculous to give much thought, and you were too busy relishing in the soothing feeling of sleep.

All of a sudden, Ambrose bursts into a series of short high pitched barks, jolting you awake. Your eyelids fly open, and you turn in your chair. Ambrose stands up tall, his fur contouring to his muscles as they flex. His ears are perched up; his focus fixed on the back wall. Whatever he was looking at, he didn’t dare to approach.

"What? What is it?"

The bunk beds obstructed your view, but you are sure you are alone. Everyone was out and about doing their normal camp activities; if anyone had entered the cabin, you would have heard them.

You groan in your hands as they rub your face to shake off the remaining fatigue, growing annoyed at Ambrose’s persistent barking that nips harshly at your eardrums.

“Ambros-”

A bitter breeze fills the room, and your breath gets caught in your throat at the feeling. Your arms wrap around your frame, failing to prevent goosebumps from forming on your arms. It was impossible. Today’s weather report called for a hot, humid day like it’s been all summer. As the hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you have an idea of what’s happening, but you hoped you were wrong.

Ambrose abruptly ends his barking with a distressing whine. His ears sag low on the sides of his head as he retreats, his large body shrinking in fear. With cautious steps, you approach him in the middle of the cabin. The thumping of your pulse is loud in your ears, and for the first time in a while, a familiar pang strikes you in your gut. You’re being watched.

Despite his fear, Ambrose guards you finding the courage to stand tall and confident after cowering a few seconds ago. You let out a shaky breath, and warily, you finally catch sight of what has his attention.

A tall, dark figure stands still at the end of the room. The light that bleeds through the thin curtains behind it wasn’t enough to expose its face but instead illuminates the swirling black vapor that made up this human form.

From your years of experience, you learned how to deal with these kinds of things. Ghosts gravitated towards you like a moth to a lit flame. Most of the time, the spirits are harmless, looking for some company, and were eager to ask for favors you often couldn’t fulfill. Other times, they were more malevolent entities, existing to feed off your fears, and had the reputation of being stubborn guests.

From the way, the room turned impossibly cold in the middle of a sweltering summer afternoon and the heaviness in your gut, the shadow in front of you was definitely the latter.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Your voice booms through the silence. "Why are you here-"

The cabin door slams open, the shadow dispersing the moment the sunlight bleeds through the room. You jump, gasping as your whole body turns around. The two figures at the doorway are dark, the sudden beams of light blinding you for a moment before you manage to recognize Connor and Travis.

“Why is it so damn dark in here? And cold? Jeez, Y/n, open the curtains at least,” Travis nags with a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t need light to see.” You groan, turning your face away, the sun shining right at you as Travis begins ripping open the curtains. “And I hate when the sun gets in my eyes,” you complain, stepping aside where sunlight doesn’t reach. Though you saw the shadow disperse, you glance at the back of the room, double-checking that what you saw was gone.

"You know... “

Your focus returns to the two boys standing side by side a few feet away from you. Both of them sporting the mischievous smirk that all the Hermes kids had when they’re about to stir up trouble. Connor only uttered two words, but it was clear they were up to something, and you were about to be involved.

"You've been locked up in here, in the dark, alone, for a while now. It's been like a week and a half since the incident, and we know you’re still a little down,” he trails off, swaying on his feet.

"... yeah?"

"And we think we have the perfect way to cheer you up!" Connor gives you a toothy grin, and as confident as he looked, you don’t quite believe him.

"And that is?"

"I think it's time we execute our bunny prank on the Ares cabin!"

You press your lips together in a thin line; head cocked to the side. "That's supposed to cheer me up?"

"Yeah!"

"How is putting my life in danger going to cheer me up?" Your gaze switches between the two as they exchange looks with each other.

“Um…” Connor says, lost for words.

"It'll be fun. We promise!" Travis insists, waving your comment off. He moves to sit in your chair, leaning back as he props his legs on your desk. "So, have you thought about how we're going to do this?"

You sigh softly, not bothering to protest. If you denied participating, Connor would be quick to remind you what’s at stake.

"I have," you admit. After your last interaction with Clarisse, the prank did come to mind.

The Stoll brother’s faces grew almost as bright as the sun outside. Connor takes a seat on the bed closest to you, leaned in with his elbows on his knees, "Tell us the details then,” he urges.

"Okay, so I found a shape-shifting potion in my spellbook. It's pretty simple. I have all the ingredients except for one. The only thing I need is the hair of a rabbit. Get that for me, and I'll make it." Connor and Travis nod eagerly, and you can already see the gears turning in their heads as they formulate a plan to catch a bunny.

"If you can get it to me in a few hours, we can sneak into their cabin while they're practicing in the arena. Then I can pour a few drops of the potion into their water cooler. The potion is potent; you only need a few drops for it to work."

"Sounds like a solid plan. They'll be thirsty after practicing, and boom, they’re all cute little bunnies,” Travis says, legs unmounting from your desk, and he hops onto his feet.

"So hurry and get me rabbit hair!”

A small, almost manic laugh comes from Connor’s lips, "This is gonna be epic!"

"Should we ask the nymphs for help?" Travis ponders out loud as he makes his way out of the dorm.

"Wait! We should get scissors! Do you have scissors?” Connor asks you, and you giggle. You grab a pair of scissors from your desk drawer, and Connor quickly swipes them from your hands the moment you present them to him.

"Thanks, Y/n!” Swiftly, he turns on his heels, trailing behind Travis.

"Be careful, please! Don't hurt the bunny!"

"We won't! The worse we'll do is give it a bald spot; they’ll be fine!" Travis shouts.

After the slamming of the front door and the ragged footsteps of Connor and Travis’s departure, your smile falters as the silence regresses. The figure you had seen comes to mind, and you frown, Ambrose whining as he sits close to your legs.

"That was weird, wasn't it?" You lean down, affectionately scratching the backs of his ears as Ambrose licks your wrists. The sight of his drooping eyes told you enough to know that this wasn’t the last time you’ll be seeing whatever that was.

"C'mon, let's not worry about that now. We have to make that potion." An uneasy grumble comes from Ambrose's chest as he nuzzles his snout in your hand.

"I know, I know," you whisper before standing up.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

"Shh, they’re coming,” Travis announces in a whisper, silencing you and Connor’s conversation. The distanced chattering and footsteps of the Ares campers become louder as Clarisse pushes open the front door. The three of you duck lower in your place as they scatter to their beds, beginning to take off their armor. Travis slowly rises from his crouching position, peaking enough to see the inside. He gives you and Connor a nod, a silent okay to peek yourselves. Cautiously, you come up, watching the group now crowding around the water dispenser, playfully telling each other to hurry up.

Connor lightly pats your shoulder with excitement, and you scrunch your face, anticipation swirling in your stomach as one by one, they begin taking sips from their water bottles. Your jaw drops as Mark forms a snout, his hands flying up to his face.

"W-what?" He sputters, moving closer to his reflection in the mirror. "What is-"

The rest of his words became soft squeals, his whole body shrinking and shifting into a stark white bunny in the blink of an eye.

“Um? Did that just-?”

“How did-”

“You have bunny ears!” Ellis shouts, pointing at Clarisse while she formed a pair of her own. Clarisse didn’t have time to comment as Ellis joins her half-brother. One by one, they began shrinking, and small shrieks fill the room.

"What are you guys doing?" The three of you practically jump out of your skin, heads snapping in the direction of the voice.

Percy’s eyes are wide and curious, furrowing his eyebrows at the chaos breaking out in the Ares cabin. You open your mouth to say something but stop yourself, not wanting to blow your cover.

“It must have been the water!”

“When I see the Stoll Brother’s I’m going to-” Squeal.

Travis’s face was a tint of pink from holding in his laughter. He doesn’t respond, simply waving at Percy to come and see for himself. You and Percy exchange a smile before turning back to the window.

His chance at seeing the pool of white bunnies went down the drain; the four of you met with an angry Clarisse instead. To your dismay, she didn't completely transform. Her normally brown eyes are now crimson and her mouth transformed into a whiskered snout. White bunny ears peek through her brown hair, making it look like she was wearing one of those bunny ear headbands they sell at the pharmacy around Easter time. You’d be laughing as much as the Stoll Brothers if Clarisse’s stare wasn’t fixed on you and only you. You give her a nervous smile as you step away carefully, and the moment Clarisse moves to jump out the window, the four of you bolted.

“She’s gonna kill us!” You exclaim; Travis and Connor burst into laughter, hands over their stomach as they run beside you.

“Split up! She can’t kill all of us!” Travis suggests, already making a beeline into the forest with Connor.

“Yeah, cause she’s gonna go after me!”

“We’ll weave you a nice shroud!”

“WOW, THANKS!”

The cackles of the two made you roll your eyes, and you make a mental note never to help them with a prank ever again. You grunt as Percy grabs onto your wrist, and you stumble for a second until you catch up to his pace.

“You can’t run from me forever!” Clarisse shouts, running close behind. She was right, you couldn’t avoid her forever, but you just needed her to calm down. "When I catch you, I'm tying your necks like shoelaces!"

You cringe at the threat as you and Percy burst through the swinging doors of the Arts and Craft center, weaving your way through the campers.

“Sorry!” You shout over their groans as you’re pulled into one of the hallways. Seeing the closets along the walls of the hallway gave you an idea. You bite your lip, focusing on the door leading to the outside. Reaching your hand out, you flick your fingers forward, causing the door to burst open fast enough for it to lock in place.

The moment you approach the last door in the hallway, you grab the knob. A grunt leaves Percy’s lips as you drag him in the closet with you. He loses his footing from the change of direction, spinning hastily toward you, and the both of you stagger into the closet. You yelp, the weight of Percy’s body sending your back right against the wall, and the knob comes out of grip right as it slams closed.

Percy grunts, his hands push against the wall beside your frame, promptly lifting himself away from you.“Sor-”

“Shh.” Your index finger rests your lips as you look at the door. Your shoulders tense up, afraid that Clarisse had heard the slam. Soon, Clarrise’s pounding footsteps rise like a crescendo and, to your relief, gradually fades as she runs right out of the building. A shaky sigh leaves your lips before glancing at Percy, who’s directly in front of you. You smile sheepishly, foot moving to step back only to be met with the wall.

Percy’s heart beats loud in his chest, and he was hoping that you couldn’t hear it. He tried to step back as well, but Percy’s foot was met with the shelves behind him to his dismay. He scans your face in the dim lighting for a few seconds. Suddenly, he’s reminded of how he stumbled on top of you, making him too embarrassed to look at you any longer. His focus falters to the shelves beside him, forcing himself to find interest in the tubs of paint stacked on them.

“It’s your fault,” you accuse after some silence. Shock flashes across Percy’s face,

“Huh?”

“Because you were so nosey, you blew our cover.” You reach over, and you poke his shoulder. Percy’s peers down at where you poked him as if he was offended.

“At least I ran with you. Travis and Connor left you for dead!”

“Great friends, they are, huh?” You ask, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Percy laughs, "I think you've taken the trophy of being the most hated by Clarisse," he jokes.

"I don't think I can one-up you. You literally fought her dad and won," you point out. "I think if we split up, she'd definitely come after me. Imagine the last thing you see when you die is Clarisse looking like… that. "

Percy laughs and you laugh, too, feeling comfortable with making light of the situation now that you were out of harm's way.

"How did that even happen!?”

"I don't know!” You sigh, bummed that Clarisse had managed to be the only person who stayed human. “Maybe she didn’t drink enough water?”

“Wow, the only person you needed to transform into a bunny just didn’t,” Percy says as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelves.

“Pretty much.”

“You have amazing luck, Y/n,” he says sarcastically.

“Whatever,” you mumble, eye faltering to the shelves beside you. Percy’s laughter fills the small space, making it hard to prevent the smile from creeping on your lips. The sound of footsteps interrupts you as you open your mouth to say something else and it brings Percy’s laughter to an end. Your shoulders are practically up to your ears as you look into Percy’s wide eyes before he mouths, “we’re dead.” If it is Clarisse, you guys are cornered, and you prepare to shadow travel even if it meant you might pass out, especially if you bring him with you.

You furrow your eyebrows as you hear two familiar voices, and soon the door opens, revealing you both to Beckendorf and Silena. There is a moment of silence, Silena blinking at the both of you, her head tilted slightly to the side as she observes the tension. Beckendorf’s right eyebrow raises, glancing between you and Percy’s face.

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?" Your face gets hot, and you exchange a look with Percy, noticing the tips of his ears are bright red.

"No, we were hiding from Clarisse,” he stutters out, gaze snapping to the two, and you nod quickly,

"Because I turned her into a bunny and-"

"She didn't transform all the way-"

"It's okay. Charles and I would sneak around at first, too," Silena interrupts, her lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

"We were just talking!" You and Percy say in unison. The more defensive you got, the more suspicious you both came off. From the way Beckendorf and Silena smiled at each other, you knew they weren’t buying it.

Beckendorf shrugs, and he steps forward, reaching between the two of you to grab the box of beads from the shelf. He hums, “It’s clear we interrupted something. I just needed this. You guys can carry on,” he teases, amused at how embarrassed the both of you are.

“But- we-” you stutter, unable to finish your sentence, Beckendorf shutting the door, and Silena makes a sound between a giggle and a squeal as they walk away.

Percy clears his throat, interrupting the short silence that fell between the two of you, “Um, should we…?” His voice falters, not finishing his sentence, but you already knew what he was going to ask.

“Yeah,” you agree awkwardly, opening the closet. “Let’s go,” you mumble, stepping out with Percy close behind you.

"Where should we go now?" Percy asks, opening the door to the outside for you, and you smile, finding it sweet. You thank him shortly, and you shrug,

"I'm not sure, but I don't think Clarisse has calmed down yet…" you trail off, catching sight of a fuming Clarisse standing beside Chiron a few meters away. “Dammit.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You shift on your feet, standing in Chiron’s office alongside Travis, Connor, and Percy. Clarisse’s crimson eyes are still narrowed at you as Chiron sighs, backing into his wheelchair before his backside disappears, allowing him to sit fully into it.

"I understand you guys are just having fun. However, I believe the Ares Cabin deserves a little break from the pranks, don't you think?" He asks as he looks at Connor and Travis.

You fiddle with your fingers, your shoulders slumped along with Connor and Travis’s shoulders. Travis nods, and he hums as if he considers it for a moment.

“We could prank the Apollo Cabin instead?" Connor suggests, and Chiron opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You press your lips together in an attempt to refrain from smiling, discovering that Percy was doing the same. You became more amused at his face turning a little pink as he holds in his laughter, and you quickly look at your hands to recollect yourself.

“I’d prefer you tone down the pranking altogether,” Chiron clarifies. Connor frowns, and he nods slowly,

“Oh. Yeah, we could do that, I guess,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Chiron nods, shifting his gaze to you,

“Y/n, what did you used to transform them into rabbits?” You hum softly,

“It’s a shape-shifting potion from my spellbook,” you explain.

“How long will it take for them to transform back?” You look up for a second, trying to remember your notes. While recalling the day you went through Ernest’s potions book to jot the recipe in your Book of Shadows, you realize how many forms of the potion there were depending on the transformation length. Ernest had mentioned in passing something about reading his notes carefully. It wasn’t until now did you realize that the potion you had made was not the short-term one.

“About … 24 hours,” you admit, and Connor snorts beside you.

“What!?” Clarisse snaps, her fists clenching on her side. “You mean, they’re going to be like that until tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, that’s what 24 hours means,” you snap back; her presence was enough to annoy you. Clarisse’s glare burns into your face, and she moves to take a step, about to charge at you.

“Clarisse, please! They will be punished accordingly,” Chiron reassures her, making her halt in her place, and she groans, her arms crossing over her chest as she waits for Chiron’s verdict.

"Well, I was going to assign you four to clean the Pegasus stables, but now that it has come to my attention that the potion lasts 24 hours, your punishment is to feed and clean up after them while they’re under the spell."

“Ew, I’d rather clean the stables,” Connor mutters, and you furrow your eyebrows,

“But wouldn’t the pegasus stables be more work?” You ask, hoping to get him to change your punishment. The last thing you wanted to do was be surrounded by a bunch of angry bunnies. Sure they were small, but you did not doubt in your mind that you were going to be attacked by them.

“They are a big group; I think it is fair that Clarisse gets assistance in taking care of them,” He says calmly, his fingers intertwined as they rest on the desk in front of him. “Feed them before you go off to dinner, accommodate their sleeping arrangements and clean up after them before morning check-ins,” he decides. You sigh softly. At this point, as long as Clarisse wasn’t on the hunt to kill you, you were okay with it.

As Chiron dismisses you, you catch the satisfied smile Clarisse was sporting, and you felt your anger swirling in your chest. You grunt as you turn on your heels, Travis and Connor behind you as Percy walks by your side. You sigh, lazily trotting off the steps of the big house,

“This...”

“Sucks,” Percy finishes your sentence, and you nod, the both of you frowning.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Stop biting me!” You complain, nudging off the crowd of bunnies from your arm. Percy laughs, seated on the floor beside you as he helps you make a nest of blankets big enough for the bunnies.

“They hate you,” he comments, amused. His smirk falls flat, and he hisses as one of them gets a good bite on his finger. “Ow!” He squints at the bunny before picking it up. It was your turn to laugh, and you watch curiously as he walks to one of the dressers and plopping it on top. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re in time-out,” he grumbles.

“Wait, that’s actually really smart!” You look down at the bunnies around you. “They can’t jump from that high!” As you reach for the closest bunny, they run out of your reach, squealing, and soon they were huddled under a bed.

Percy smiles as they disperse, “well, now they’ll leave us alone,” he says as he sits beside you to continue piling the extra blankets you found. “You should have let me play that rock-paper-scissors game with them,” Percy mentions.

The two of you were stuck making a makeshift bed for the Ares campers since Travis and Connor had to round up their cabin for curfew. Well, one of them could have done it, but they insisted that it was a two-person job. You said it was unfair if they skipped out and they offered to settle who will go with an intense rock-paper-scissors game; best of three. You had accepted the challenge and lost miserably.

"I should have known there was no point in trying with their luck."

"Yeah, you walked right into that."

You side-eye him, "anyways, you would have lost.”

“How are you so sure?”

"Because, you just would have," you say shortly, and you smile as he turns to you.

“Well, considering how lucky you've been all day," he says sarcastically, and you squint at him. "I would have had a better chance,” he gloats.

“You’ve been real sassy today,” you mumble, and he laughs. “It’s fine. There’s not that much to do anyway.” Carefully, you roll the sides of the blankets into a nest shape after Percy finishes piling them. You rise on your feet, “It’d sleep there if I were a bunny. What do you think?”

“I would too. It seems comfortable,” Percy smiles as he stands up.

"Are you losers done?" Clarisse walks into the cabin with bowls of water for her siblings, and you roll your eyes as she puts them on the ground.

"Yeah, is it to their liking?" You ask with fake politeness, straining a smile. Clarisse observes the bundle of blankets as her siblings get in to try it out. She furrows her eyebrows, listening attentively to the various squeals. She had inherited most of the bunny traits, and though she didn’t transform completely, she could understand what they were saying.

“Eh, it’s good enough,” she concludes after hearing all the complaints of her siblings. “I’m sick of seeing your faces; get out.” She didn’t have to tell you twice, and you don’t waste any time as you turn on your heels. You were sick of seeing her face too.

Walking down the steps of the Ares Cabin, Percy follows beside you. A slight hum comes from his lips, and you look over,

“I was wondering when you’d come back to sword fighting,” he mentions, and you nod, recalling that you had agreed to attend classes after sparing with him a couple of weeks ago. “Your brother has been coming more often; he’s gotten a lot better.”

“That’s why my body has been aching so much,” you mutter more to yourself. For the past week, you thought you were staining your body in your sleep.

“Huh?”

“Long story,” you wave your hand, and you think about his question.

If you were completely honest, you weren’t as depressed about what had happened anymore. After you talked with Percy, you had finally come to terms with many of the thoughts that were tormenting you. However, you still stayed locked up in the Hermes Cabin because in the past week or so, you’ve gotten so much studying done. You wanted to stay in and read, and you were planning on milking your excused absences for as long as you could. But now, you considered that maybe you should return to your normal activities. Connor and Travis were becoming more worried, so were Atticus and Lou Ellen.

“I could join tomorrow,” you say hesitantly, your heart fluttering as Percy’s face brightens up. “Are you that excited to beat me up?” You joke, and Percy laughs, shaking his head.

“No! It’s just… it’s weird not seeing you around.” He admits shyly as he looks away. The cool summer breeze blows on your warm cheeks, and you swallow,

“I’ll go tomorrow,” you confirm, sounding more sure of yourself this time. Once you approach the steps of the Hermes cabin, you turn to him. “Good night, Perce.”

The sides of Percy’s eyes crinkle as he nods, “Good night,” he says as he slowly backs away. “And try to wake up on time, yeah? I’m not feeding the Ares cabin alone tomorrow,” he teases. You did have a habit of being the last person to arrive at breakfast. He must have noticed.

“Yeah, yeah. Worry about yourself, waterboy.” You smile, hearing him scoff. Opening the door to the Hermes cabin, you look back at him one more time. You take in the wide grin on his face, and he nods,

“Got it. I’ll remember that when you’re being chased by Clarisse again.” Your mouth drops open, eyes glinting at his banter.

“You better go before the harpies eat you!” You shoo him away as he laughs, then with a short salute of his two fingers, he walks off to his cabin.

masterlist taglist: @xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @-thatgirloverthere- @sanovr @passionswift @nanskidoodle @Slytherclaw-kitten @zhethugisa

[obx-paradiseonearth]

The Bet | Rafe Cameron

Hey lovelies, this is my first Rafe Cameron fic and I hope y’all like it! It’s set with him and y/n in university and he’s for sure a bit out of character- no murder in this house he didn’t deserve that shit- but that’s okay because this is fanfiction! Please enjoy loves and let me know what you think!

Description: Rafe Cameron and y/n go to University together and make a bet at the beginning of the year: who can make the other fall in love first. This is the climax of such. 

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

Warnings: SMUT: basic things, oral (female), regular sex, dirty talk (mild?), might be important to note she’s a virgin in this

Word count: 4.9k

Tags: Fluff, Smut, tiny bit of angst at the beginning if you squint super hard

// If heaven and hell had equal say in creating one person, it would be the man with his head between her thighs //

          She sighs, her toes burying themselves in the carpet as her arms reach well past her head in a much needed stretch. Her room is dark, the only light coming from her cheap desk lamp. The pounding in her head, for once, isn’t enough to drown out anything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. None of this was supposed to happen, it wasn’t supposed to get this far. It was always just a game, wasn’t it? She runs a shaky hand through her hair, her knees wobbling slightly at the thought. Get it together, y/n. 

          She pulls the scrunchie from her hair, her muscles coiled tightly, letting it fall around her shoulders wildly. Her skin is burning up under her jumper and she pulls it quickly over her head too, letting it land in a heap at her feet. Slipping her jeans off, and socks too, she reaches up again, only this time to turn the ceiling fan on. It whirls to life quickly and she’s left in nothing but her sticky skin and the black star lace set that he always adored. 

          Him.

          All she can see is his face, and the way his blue eyes would dance up her body if he was here. She can hear the breath he would take. No she can feel it, in her own lungs, swirling cool peppermint in her chest like it’s his own. His touch, light at first, moving slowly downwards, over the hills of her breasts, against the curve of her waist, until finally over-

          No.

          She doesn't want to think about him anymore. She needs to move, do something other than stand here and feel bad for herself. What would her mother think? And her sister? Actually she knows what they would think. They would say, ‘Y/n what have you done?’ No, actually, just her mom would say that. Her face would scrunch up and her nose would do that crinkle thing it always does when she’s disappointed. Which is a lot. Her sister, though, would be firm. Her sister would say, ‘Pick yourself up y/n. Get it together, he is not going to win this one. You do not let a boy do this to you.’ Her sister would be right, like always.

          The problem is she wants to scream. She wants to claw at her throat until all the sounds come pouring out. She wants to rip out her hair and scrub at her skin until she can’t smell anything but iron and fire. Anything but pine and sandalwood and him. She needs the memory of his hands to fade. Fast. But she can still feel his fingers tracing patterns on her back and the urge to scream gets so much stronger. It’s building in the pit of her stomach, the same way it used to, but this time it’s dangerous and angry. It makes an unfamiliar heat run through her veins. Visions of ripping her posters off the wall and smashing her laptop against her desk fill her head. She needs to calm down now.

          This time she does move, towards her bed, and sits on the edge, gripping her sheets with all the strength she has left. Something soft brushes her thigh and she glances down to see a brown shirt. Of course it’s here he must have forgotten it. Despite everything she pulls it over her head and curls into a ball. Just as she thought, it smells like the forest. 

          Sleep comes easier than she thought it would, her eyes fluttering closed in a pine scented sedation. Maybe he’ll come to her in her dreams. At least she can still have that. She lets herself sink a little deeper into her comforter as the pine gets a little stronger. 

         “So this is just it, yeah?” His voice is as slow as honey in the darkness of her room. Great, now she’s hearing his voice in her head. 

          She pushes her head against her bed, ready to let the sleep handle this. Except now there are footsteps, and they get louder, like they’re coming towards her. What the hell is going on.

         She rolls over in time to watch a blurry Rafe walk into her dorm room. Well, more like storm into her dorm room, in all his open-flannel, black-jean fury. It takes no time at all before she feels her feet touch the shag of her carpet again but this time her toes curl in order to keep her upright. 

         When his face comes into focus, he’s less than a foot away from her. “What are you doing here?” 

          Her voice is pure ice but it doesn’t faze him in the slightest. His ocean eyes are black in the darkness. She can feel the heat rolling off him in waves, beckoning her to reach out and touch his burning chest. She has to close her fingers around the hem of the shirt- his shirt- to avoid accidentally doing just that. He’s fuming. 

        “What the hell was that back there?” His voice is slightly louder than before.

        She’s still staring at his chest. “Rafe get out of my room.”

        “Y/n, I’m not asking again, what the fuck was that?” 

        His chest heaves as he takes a breath and her hands itch to reach up and feel his hot skin, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

       She takes a step back. His being so close is making her head spin in dizzying loops. He only follows though, closing the space between them more than it already is, if that’s even possible.

       “You left. After everything I said you just fucking left!” His voice is strong but she doesn't miss the slight crack. It shoots a pain like she’s never felt before through her chest. 

        She can’t help the harshness in her words. “It was a game, Rafe.”

        “We both know it wasn’t, y/n.”

        At his words all the air gets sucked out of her lungs. 

        “You need to go.” It’s no more than a whisper, so quiet she’s not certain she actually said it. 

         She turns away from him, stumbling to lean against the posts of her bed, attempting to remain upright despite how weak her legs feel. She can hear his labored breaths from behind her and she screws her eyes shut, willing him to just walk away before either of them get even more hurt than they already are. Or at least more than she already is. 

         But of course, he wouldn’t be Rafe if he gave up that easily. 

         “Y/n you don’t mean that,” his breath is on the back of her neck and she shivers, trying not to squeeze her thighs together to make it last a little longer, “you can’t resist me and you know it. Just look at what you’re wearing.”

        She spins around quickly, a new rage igniting in her stomach and overpowering everything else in its wake. He’s always so damn arrogant. It makes her want to punch him in the face and maybe split one of his full lips. 

        She throws her arms up in exasperation, not meaning to lift the shirt past her hips. “What the hell do you want from me, Rafe!”

       His eyes lower and he sucks in a harsh breath, just the way she had imagined he would earlier. “Fuck.”

       “Rafe this was your idea! You won. Isn’t that enough for you?” She pulls the material back down, crossing her arms over her chest.

       He continues staring at her legs, greedily taking in every inch of bare skin. The heat between her legs roars to life again. She throws her hair back up, hoping to cool down even slightly. He makes her so damn mad all the time. This was never a good idea. She knew something like this was going to happen but, of course, she had to do it anyway. Stupid y/n. 

         She turns around again and steps away from him, praying he’ll leave. “Just go please.”

         She almost expects it when his hands grab onto her waist but she can’t help the sharp inhale she takes. His hands are life giving, despite everything that’s happened. They could still bring the dead to life again.  

         “You don’t want that, do you?” His words are warm against her now-revealed neck. 

         “It was a game. It wasn’t real, Rafe.” She tries to make her words firm but they come out as soft mewls instead. 

        His nose skims her neck and she knows he can feel her trembling in his grip. “Who are you trying to convince here, y/n, me or yourself?” 

         He plants a burning kiss against her skin- one she knows he has to bend over significantly to do- as his hands move inward, resting on her abdomen in the dip between her hips. She barely stops the moan from tumbling out of her lips. There’s no way she can respond right now or she’ll be done for. She’s seconds away from caving in. 

          One of his hands begins sliding slowly towards her chest and it takes everything she has to not throw her head back against him as her breasts swell in anticipation. His other hand, though, is creeping dangerously close to breaking her resolve. His fingers dance over the top of her panties and ignite every inch of skin he touches. Her ears are ringing so loud they drown out her own panting breaths. She’s a complete and utter mess in his arms. 

         “If you can honestly tell me that this is all a game,” his fingers continue to lower at a tantalizingly slow pace, “then I’ll leave.”

          She can’t help but lean further into his chest as his hand gently squeezes her breast and his thumb rolls over her nipple from over his shirt. She can hear her sigh over the ringing in her ears. The whole floor probably hears it. His other hand quickly finds her and he slides a lazy finger over her aching sex. She doesn't need to hear the moan to know it came out. 

         His voice is honey again, dripping down her spine with every sickly-sweet word. “Fuck, baby, if you can tell me that how wet you are for me right now is just a game then I will leave and you won’t have to see me ever again.”

         His words are the final push it takes to give into him. 

         “Rafe.” His name falls from her lips like a praise.

         As soon as he hears her he spins her around, lifting her with an arm under her butt and a hand gripping the back of her neck. His lips crash onto hers feverishly and she tastes peppermint with a hint of cigarettes, letting it consume the last remaining parts of her that want to deny him. Her legs wrap around his waist, warming from the bare skin of his abdomen. She can feel him against her as she tangles her fingers in his hair, pulling lightly at the roots.

          “Baby,” he moans into her mouth, sending tingles racing to the pit of her stomach, “it was never a fucking game. You've always been mine.”

         He walks her backwards with his mouth latched on her neck, no doubt leaving marks everywhere his tongue traces. He sets her on the edge of her bed, gently pushing her onto her back before shrugging off his flannel and kneeling between her legs on the floor. Even in the faint light she can see his eyes devouring every part of her. He takes his time running his hands up her legs, rubbing small circles wherever he wanders. She props herself up on her elbows, watching him take in all of her. He leans down to kiss the insides of her thighs. 

          If heaven and hell had equal say in creating one person, it would be the man with his head between her thighs.

         “Rafe, please.” she falls back when he moves closer to her covered flesh.

         “What do you want me to do baby,” he looks up at her as he places another kiss to the junction of her thigh, “I need you to tell me what you want.”

          Another moan slips out when his fingers graze over her panties.

          “Y/n, I need to hear you say it.” He sounds like he has all the time in the world. He slips his thumbs into her waistband and pulls ever so slightly.

          “Rafe, fuck, I-” his lips press against her hip bone and her mind scrambles to think of any words that will make even the slightest bit of sense together- “kiss me, fuck, please kiss me Rafe!”

         He looks up at her through his lashes, his hair falling in his face and a beautiful smirk carved on his lips. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

         Before she can process what’s happening he’s pulled the lace fully off her legs and his mouth is over her, his tongue swirling around her sex in agonizingly slow circles. Every nerve in her body sings his praise all at once which is funny considering he’s the one on his knees for her. It takes everything in her to not squeeze her thighs tighter around him if only to make sure he never leaves her. She settles for once again gripping his hair between her fingers. 

         He slips a finger inside her and curls it, pulling another one of the endless moans from her. She raises her hips, trying to get as close to him as she possibly can. She doesn't think she’ll ever be close enough though. They could be the same person and she would still never be close enough to him. His tongue circles her clit and she almost loses it. She never used to know why they explained it like a ball of fire in the pit of your being- like a mini sun exploding within you- until him. 

         “Rafe.” His name tumbles from her mouth of its own accord. 

         His eyes look up to meet her and that’s when the little sun explodes, the most delicious flames consuming her body like they always seem to do when he’s around- only this time a thousand times stronger. 

         He doesn’t stop sucking on her flesh until she’s panting from the overstimulation- her bones nothing but mush- and pulling him from her thighs and on top of her. His bare shoulders are smooth and powerful as he holds himself over her, her fingers crawling over the taut muscles feverently, his hair falling in his face once again. He looks at her in awe, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed- like it was his greatest pleasure to bathe her in ecstacy. She can’t help but pull his face to hers and press her lips against his. That’s all it takes to start the mini sun forming and twisting inside her again. Her lips move to his neck as her hands trace over his panelled stomach and pop the button of his jeans.

          “Fuck, y/n, baby are you sure?” He hisses slightly, sucking in some air as she wraps her hand around him, squeezing lightly. 

          She starts to nod before stopping herself, the words clawing at her throat, “yes Rafe, I’m sure. I need you.”

She’s ready to beg if she has to, her fingers squeezing again, her cheeks heating when he murmurs her name again. She’s never been one for drugs but the way he says her name? Oh, she’s hopelessly addicted.

          He looks at her and for the first time tonight he looks a little unsure of himself. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

          Her heart flutters in her chest at his words. “You have to, please. I don’t want anyone else to do it. Only you.”

         His eyes flash, his hand moving to grab her jaw. “No one else is ever going to fucking touch you, you hear me?”

         She bites back the smile before it takes over her entire face, instead choosing to say the one thing she knows he needs to hear the most right now. Her hands slide over his chest, curling over his strained shoulders and squeezing. She can almost feel her blood running through her veins- thick and hot and determined- as she says it.

          “Rafe I love you.”

          The room is silent for the first time since he walked through the door. It’s nerve wracking, to say the least. His eyes search hers thoroughly- as if trying to decide whether or not she’s telling the truth. His chest heaves, brushing hers with each labored breath. She can honestly say this is the first time she’s ever seen a shocked expression on his face. It’s quite heartbreaking, to be completely honest.

          “What did you say, baby?” His voice is barely a whisper.

          “I said I love you, Rafe Cameron.”

          He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers, “again.”

          Her brows furrow, her heart pounding. Did he not hear her? No, that can’t be right. She hadn’t stuttered, hadn’t fumbled. She was quite clear. Her heart thunders painfully, her chest aching. Does he not want to say it back?

           “Baby, please,” he opens his eyes and she gasps, the shine clear even through the darkness, “I need you to say it again. I need, fuck, I don’t know-”

           Oh. 

          Oh no, no, no. 

          “I love you,” she pushes her hands up his chest and through his hair, tugging him closer to her, a wave of something fierce flooding her body, “I love you, Rafe. I love you so much it hurts.” She presses her lips against his, biting his lip hard before releasing him, her eyes searching his face desperately, “didn’t you hear me earlier? You won! You made me fall in love with you! I am in love with you, Cameron!”

          His mouth falls open slightly and, for a moment, all she can hear again is his panting breaths, wild and hot, like an animal finally set free, “Rafe-”

          He smashes his mouth against hers, cutting off her words and replacing them with her moan- so loud she’s certain it, too, like his lips, could wake the dead. Maybe in a way her moan does. Maybe it slams through Rafe’s ears and veins and bones and makes him feel alive- makes him feel like he has a purpose, even if it’s just to bring her the greatest pleasure of her life. She can’t be sure but if the way their teeth clash together and his hands rub across her skin- like he’s trying to start a fire with his bare hands- are any indication then she could die a happy woman knowing he’s finally alive.

          “I love you.” His tongue slips into her mouth and she groans, the peppermint exploding over her senses again, “I’m in love with you.” His voice is husky- strained from something she knows she wouldn’t be able to understand- and she sighs, her chest welling with an aching longing on he can erase, “have been for way too long.”

          She’s breathless, lost in the way he says the words. It’s like he plucked each word from the sky, fished each one from the sea and pressed each together with only his hands. Each word is special. Stars and pearls and diamonds. I’ve been in love with you for way too long. She’ll never ask him for a necklace or a ring- he just ruined her wanting anything material from him- she’ll only ask that he never stops saying he loves her like it’s the only thing that matters.

          Hearing him say the words makes her light up, a passion burning through her veins that makes her crave an outlet of sinful proportions. She slips her fingers back into his jeans, this time tugging him free and pumping her fist slightly, her mind going fuzzy from how big he feels in her hands. Will this even fit? She swallows thickly, forcing her mind back to his velvety skin. He’s long and hot, searing into her hand as her thumb rolls over his tip, spreading the moisture and pulling a throaty groan from his lips.

          “Fuck, I need you baby,” he mumbles, his hand dragging down her side, his fingers slipping back inside her. 

          He curls his digits again, twisting them hastily, as if desperate to hear her soft moans again. If that’s his goal then he succeeds indefinitely, her core clenching with the slip of his name from her lips. She squeezes her hand around him, breathless from the feeling of him throbbing between her fingers, mirroring the way her body responds to his ministrations. 

          “Rafe, please,” she doesn’t know exactly what she’s begging for but she’s compelled by the way he thrusts into the palm of her hand when she says his name, “fuck me. I need you to fuck me.” 

          Saying the words make her tingle, her skin flushed and yearning. They feel so wrong in her mouth- obscenely so- but she craves the way they make him buck against her, pulling her skin between his teeth and biting. She lifts her legs and pushes her heels against his hips, trying her best to convey how hungry she is to feel completely full- not just with his fingers. Come on, Rafe, please.

          “Yeah, you want me to fuck you baby?” His mouth is on her ear now, his voice low but strong. Her belly squeezes at his words, his tone dripping with sweet torture. His thumb flicks over her clit slowly, his eyes watching every little movement she makes. It’s becoming explicitly clear just how long he’s been waiting for this moment. The thought alone makes her moan. “I can’t hear you baby. Should I fuck you right now?”

          The coil in her belly tightens further and she moans as he removes his fingers, his hand latching on to her hip. Something tells her this is Rafe Cameron at his most restrained self.

          Time for that to change.

          “I want you to fuck me, Rafey,” the nickname slips from her without hesitation, her own way of proving she’s ready for him, her pride swelling when he squeezes her tighter, “right now.”

          That’s all it takes for him to kick his jeans off, jostling her body closer to him. She groans when he runs his tip over her clit, teasing her entrance with the first true glimpses of electricity, her skin crackling and sparking wherever he meets her. By the time he finally lines himself up she feels like she’s seconds away from combusting. The flames licking at her- just barely contained under the surface of her skin- roar when he pushes in the first two inches. 

          She gasps, tasting metal in her mouth, “holy shit, Rafe.” He feels like fire inside her, like he’s burning himself into her, her body igniting from the inside out, “too big. You’re too big.”

          He chuckles and the sound is like water. No, not like water. She’s pretty sure it is water, pouring over all the parts of her that roar when he pulls out and pushes back in a few more inches; soothing her like the ocean lapping at her body on an especially hot day. It’s a fitting notion; him being her ocean. She could drown in his presence. 

          “I promise I’ll fit, baby.” 

          Because you were made for me, she fills the rest in herself.

          With a final push- one that makes her wonder if she’s supposed to taste the flames on her tongue- he bottoms out, stalling as she adjusts to him. She swallows a few times, her mouth going dry from fighting her groans of pain. She doesn’t know when her hands found his shoulders but she doesn’t think about it, she just digs her fingers into his skin, tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut.

          “Rafey,” she whines, her voice hoarse in the sudden silence.

          “I know, baby,” he coos back, his lips meeting her jaw and his hand massaging her side.

          The ache subsides slowly- the fire fading from inferno to smolder- and she shifts her hips, trying to find a more comfortable position and- oh.

          Oh holy shit!

          “Oh my god,” she gasps, dragging her hand across his back, sinking her nails into his skin as a wave of white hot pleasure jolts up her spine. 

          She bucks her hips against his- she has to, it feels like magic- her thighs climbing around him, her ankles crossing behind him. He laughs again, his lips brushing over her neck. He pushes one arm under her back, the other hooking around her knee, pulling her closer to him. She moans when he slides slightly inside her, stretching her in a way that makes her see stars.

          “Baby-” she clenches and he hisses- “fuck, I’m taking that as a go ahead,” he murmurs, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into her heat, “god, you’re so tight baby. So fucking perfect.”

          He pulls out again, pushing back in a touch harder. Her toes curl when he sets a steady rhythm, his shaft meeting depths she didn’t know were possible. Her room fills with the sound of his skin slapping against hers and the little moans she can’t contain, emphasized by his own, softer groans. Every time his hips meet hers she feels that ball of fire- the sun she didn’t know existed inside her- grow a fraction. Soon it’s humming, pulsing in the pit of her stomach and begging to explode.

          Rafe pushes up on his arm, pulling her hips to stay aligned with him as his eyes devour her, his mouth falling open with a groan. The tiny sun squeezes at his hungry expression, the fire behind his eyes feeding the fire growing steadily within her. 

          “You look so pretty baby, wrapped around my cock like that,” she moans, the words fuel to her fire. “Do you like my cock, baby?” Her core squeezes and he bites his lip, his hand digging into her hip. “Someone clearly likes hearing what I have to say but can she speak?”

          Her cheeks flare with heat but the ball of fire only grows once more, “I love your cock, Rafey. It’s-” she gasps he pulls out before slamming back into her, her eyes widening from the tangible pleasure rolling through her- “it’s so good.”

          “That’s better baby. I want this whole building to hear you scream,” he growls out, snapping his hips, “to know you’re mine.” He shifts his thrusts, brushing a spot that makes her gasp, his eyes lighting up dangerously, “got it, baby.”

          “Rafe, what, I don’t under-” 

          “Trust me baby.”

          He pulls her leg up his chest, her ankle hanging from his shoulder as he picks up his thrusts. Her eyes widen as he somehow feels deeper, brushing a spot that makes her whine. He slams into her relentlessly, his fingers dancing down her leg until they find her clit, pressing down gently and circling. She moans- louder than all her other moans before- and shivers as the tiny sun pulses, the familiar feeling of ecstasy creeping over her bones again. She digs her heel into his shoulder, biting her lip and twisting her fingers in her sheets.

          “Oh fuck,” she gasps, her voice strangled.

          “That’s it baby,” Rafe encourages, his movements becoming sloppier, “louder.”

          He presses his fingers harder, his hips jutting precisely into her and all of a sudden the mini sun enters supernova, the coil in her belly snapping as her muscles squeeze deliciously, “Rafe!”

          He thrusts into her a few more times before tensing, his head thrown back with a choked moan. The sight alone is enough to make her want to do it all again but combined with the feeling of him twitching inside her, the warmth blossoming alongside his release, it’s dangerous- if she wasn’t before, she’s now painfully addicted to Rafe Cameron.

          He falls beside her, pulling out with a final, shared hiss. She reaches for him automatically, craving the feeling of his arms around her and his pine tree scent, now marred with the aroma of their actions. Her whole body still buzzes slightly but her limbs are weighed down with sleep, the fatigue wrapping around her bones and tugging. He pulls her against his chest, his hands sliding up and down her back, his fingers pressing into her muscles. 

          “That feels nice,” she murmurs, her voice sounding far away from her as she tries hard to chase away the blackness nipping at her vision, “I’m so sleepy now.”

          He presses his lips against her forehead, laughing lightly, “don’t fight it baby.” His voice is like a lullabye, soft and slow, pushing her closer to the brink of unconsciousness, “you’re about to have the best sleep of your damn life.”

          She hums, her eyes now closed and her face pressed against his arm, her fingers curled around his bicep, “love you, Rafey.”

          If her eyes were open she would see the way he smiles at her- the way he can’t wipe the grin off his face for fifteen minutes- and she would smile too. Her eyes aren’t open, though, so instead she has to make due with his words.

          “I love you, y/n.”

          It’s not a bad compromise. 

          The last thought the flits through her mind before she caves to the sweet call of post sex sleep is one that she tells herself she has to make sure to tell Rafe in the morning. It’s important. 

          She needs to tell him that she won.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Verboten - Chapter Four.

It’s lovely to see a couple of you excited for this, and I thank you eternally for your interest as well. 

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three

Visuals - The Verboten cast of characters post

Words - 3,911

Warnings - Angst, longing

Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :)

Chapter playlist - AC/DC - Thunderstruck

“So, then I told this woman, excuse me, but no. I was here first, I’m getting the damn bag and yes, honey, I will fight you for it. Zoey? Hey, Zoey?”

The click of Paris’s fingers in front of her face and the flash of dark red acrylic in her eyeline roused Zoey from her catatonic state, back in dreamland, or alternate reality, as she’d begun to refer to it as. In her adventures in AU today, she was dreaming about sitting on Tyler’s face, wearing nothing but the high heeled Louboutin shoes she currently had upon her tired, aching feet.  

She much preferred trainers, but never underestimated the statement a power shoe made. Plus, she’d saved for months to buy the patent stilettoes with the six-inch heels. Six-inch heels to go with the nine-inch cock she kept on remembering, taking a peek at the photo every so often, usually when she masturbated. There’d been no further messages, though.  

If she had her way, there wouldn’t be any more either, although it was a hard urge to fight, to send him something naughty and enjoy a little back and forth play with him. That’s all it was, just playing, talking of what would be, AR wise. Well, singular. It had only happened once and no matter how turned-on sexting with a man she shouldn’t have had left her, she knew it was wrong. Still, it did little to curb the daydreaming.

“Sorry, sweetie. So, is that the bag there?”

Paris was incredulous through her mouthful of sashimi. “Yes! Blimey, you really are away with the fairies, aren’t you? What is it, work stuff? You should have said if it was an inconvenience, getting away. I would have just grabbed some takeout trays on my way and come to you.”

“No, really, it’s fine. It did me some good to get out for a bit. Sorry, you have my full attention again now. So, this was the last of them, huh?” Looking at the beautiful, black calfskin bag in more detail, Zoey felt herself drooling a little. It was from a boutique there in the city, by a local designer, Amelie Shaw. Her bags were so sought after, they fetched the same prices as more well-known haute couture, the one Paris had scored well over five grand in price. Her own? Three hundred bucks from a leather craft exhibition she’d visited with Cait a few months ago. She liked nice things, but didn’t need to be designer fancy from head to toe. Her shoes were enough today.

“It was, but I didn’t leave there without getting a little gift for you!” Pulling out the small, flash gift bag, she waved it from side to side with a grin.

“Oh, Paris no! You didn’t have to!”

“You’re my best friend and I wanted to! Open it, open it!” Within the swathes of peach tissue paper, wrapped in a little white ribbon, was a beautiful, dark purple card wallet that exactly matched the colour of her bag. The smell of the leather was intoxicating, the designer's emblem embossed just below the elegant brass clasp.  

“It’s absolutely beautiful, thank you so much! I shudder to think what it cost!”

“Eh, I’m gonna let Daniel faint when he gets the credit card statement. Heck, it’s my money too and you’re worth it!” Paris was so generous, she always had been, loving to spoil people. She often said it was in lieu of being able to have children, she and Daniel unable to conceive and currently, looking into adopting from China, where their parents were originally from.  

Zoey couldn’t identify with the hardship of longing for children since she didn’t want any of her own, but she was always there to sympathise with Paris’s plight. “Well, lunch is on me and I won’t hear of any arguments either!”

“Just to try and stop me, this place is pricey!” Zoey laughed, shaking her head while picking up salmon skin roll and giving it a liberal dunking into the small pot of sushi vinegar. “Anyway, you were really far away just then. Something on your mind?”

Shaking her head, she attempted to sweep it under the rug. “No, nothing.” Paris was far from fooled.  

“I remain unconvinced by your denial. You went all glazed, you always do when thoughtful.” Paris would know, they’d been friends since they were eleven, after all.  

“I’m just anxious about the next meeting I have, it’s with a fella who seems more convinced in telling me how he’ll spend his money than letting me advise him accordingly over how to invest it and where.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Kenneth Evans was difficult, to say the least. Zoey never relished in putting her proposed plans to him, but the fact he continued to insist she tweak them did keep her in sushi money.  

“Ahh, mansplainer?”

“Oh yeah, hugely!” She confirmed, asking the passing waitress to bring them the bill.  

Phew, she’d bought it, because there was no way in hell that Zoey was going to tell her about the...whatever the hell it was she’d slipped into with Tyler. Was it a flirtation? She guessed not, really. Flirtations were a lot more innocent than telling your sister’s husband in as many words how much you wanted to slow ride his huge cock.  

Oh, there she went, imagining it again, her astride him, stroking his short beard while staring at him intently, rolling her hips back and forth, squeezing on him as he ran his big, powerful hands up and down her back and his...  

“Zoey! Jesus, girl.”

“What? Oh, sorry!” Taking out her small purse, she rooted around for her bank card, telling the girl waiting with the payment machine to put on an extra twenty-five dollars as a tip for herself, sliding the card into the slot. “Are we still on for Saturday?”  

“Just you try and stop me!” With that, they exchanged a hug and kiss and went their separate ways, both looking forward to a night out, just the two of them in three days from then. Zoey just had to stop her ridiculous daydreaming in that time. Hell, maybe she’d meet a guy while out with Paris and be distracted away from the man she couldn’t have by a new focus for her lust.  

By Saturday night, she’d managed pretty well too in seeming to forget about Tyler, sheer busyness alone with work leading to the kind of exhaustion that didn’t go hand in hand with late night thoughts or daytime zoning out. Whenever she wasn’t working, she was either on the treadmill working off her penchant for pasta, or asleep. However, come Saturday night as she walked from the train down the street to the wine bar she was meeting Paris at, back he came into her consciousness after she received a text message from him.  

‘You look absolutely stunning.’  

Stopping, she looked around, turning to see a police vehicle parked up on the other side of the quiet street flash its headlights, Tyler at the wheel. “Ahh, fuck. Just when I was beginning to forget.” She muttered, changing her direction and heading over to him.  

“I’m gonna have to see a license for those legs, miss.”  

“Very funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be funny. Seriously, you look amazing. Get in.”  

“Are you sure both of us being in a confined space together is wise right now?”

The little flicker that flashed through his ridiculously azure blue eyes, coupled with the fact that he was obviously in uniform (a huge turn on for her) made her knees weak and her heart begin to race. “Safest place we can be together. I’m not about to dive on you while I’m on duty in a squad car.”  

‘So, that’s the only thing holding you back right now?’ Making her way around to the passenger side, she climbed in, turning to face him with small smile. “So, how you doing?”  

“Still in the spare room.” Fuck, that wasn’t good. “Has she mentioned anything to you or the others?”  

“No, she hasn’t, Then again, I haven’t seen her since Cait’s birthday.”  

“Fun night, wasn’t it?” His wink alluded more to the part that came after the birthday celebrations.  

“Tyler,” she warned gently. Still though, her heart continued to hammer so loudly, she’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear it.  

He sighed, shifting slightly in his seat. “I know, I know. Still though, you should know that I can’t remember the last time I was that aroused. That includes when I’ve actually been having sex, from the little I remember of that.”

“We can’t...I...” She floundered, feeling uncomfortable, the juxtapose of the situation crashing within.  

“I know that, too. Sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. I guess we ought to at least try and go back to normal.”

“Just keep thinking of my sister instead of me. Come on, we had a bit of illicit fun, probably took things a step too far, but remained on the side of redemption. We can turn this around and go back to normal. We can.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Fuck. Ain’t gonna be easy, though. Every time I look at those texts, my dick hits my belly button. I enjoyed it way too much. Well, I guess we just have to leave things in the alternate reality. That’s it, done with. Back to normal.” To Zoey, he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.  

“I think deleting those texts might be the best action. I’ll do the same, too, although I don’t really want to,” she replied honestly, biting her lip in a way that made Tyler’s insides tremble. Fuck, she was so sexy.

“No?”

“Nope. That cock. Wow.” He snorted with laughter, gripping the steering wheel and butting his head off his hands a few times with a groan.  

“Feels even better than it looks, so I’m told.”

“Oh god, we have to behave ourselves! Because now you’ve got me thinking about it all over again! We went for ten years without a flicker of anything like this and now, over the space of two weeks, we can’t control ourselves?” She made a very valid point, he guessed. Self-control was what they were both lacking.  

“If I’m honest, I’ve always thought you were gorgeous. It’s just until two weeks ago, I didn’t want to dive on you. That’s the thing about when you light a fire, I guess. Sometimes you have no choice but to let it burn out by itself.” Was he implying that they just continue this...whatever it was, until it was out of their systems? Was it an insinuation that he wanted more? At the moment, they were like Icarus, flying much too close to the sun. Would letting it blaze them entirely finally relieve a little of the tension?

Could she live with herself, having sex with her sister’s husband just to get it out of her system and move on, because it was too difficult to resist him? ‘Of course you bloody can, woman! For Christ sakes, stop being so selfish and thinking with your damn vagina!’

It didn’t matter, though, how much she chastised herself, how her internal monologue screamed at her how it was wrong, she still found herself there, a silent moment stretching out, the tension growing palpable between them, with her face nearing his once again. To kiss him again, it was all she wanted, to feel that fire, singe her wings, satiate her craving for him.  

His hand swept into her hair, his breath fluttering her cheek, both about to give in to it, the crippling desire, the magnetism, the heat. Just one kiss...

“30434, what’s your current location? Over.” Saved by the radio.

“30434, Park Street West, over.” Looking at her, he smiled, reaching to stroke her cheek with his thumb. While he received instruction, she winked and mouthed ‘bye’, Tyler returning the same before she got out, her loins fizzing. She turned to see his car hurtle up the street a few seconds later, lights flashing and siren on. God, the whole man in uniform thing. How it killed her. Nothing sexier than a gorgeous policeman.  

“Did you run? You’re flushed,” Paris observed, standing to kiss her before taking the beautiful bottle of Chilean Pinot Grigio from the ice bucket and pouring out a glass for her late coming friend.  

“No, and sorry I’m a few minutes late. Cheers.” Picking up her glass, she toasted Paris, mindful to acknowledge she was ten minutes later than their agreed time, her bestie a stickler for punctuality. Then, and without pause, she lifted the large glass to her lips and promptly sank it in three gulps.

“Easy, easy!” Paris exclaimed, her eyes wide. “That’s a lovely Pinot there, you could at least have appreciated the bouquet before you necked it like a thirsty racehorse!”

“I appreciated the alcohol, believe me. Crikey.” Zoey sighed, feeling better.  

“Bad day?”

“Something like that.”

Those three words were met with an eye roll, Zoey finally jostling around the table of businessmen to their left, the smell of machismo confidence and Paco Rabanne heavy in the air as she placed herself down next to Paris on the pew style seating in their little section. Religion was their favourite wine bar, built within an abandoned church, the original pews used to flank the sides of the room itself, but with slightly comfier padding added to the seat itself. “You know I don’t like it when you’re cryptic.”

Taking a deep breath, Zoey knew that her off behaviour would continue to send alert signals to the Paris radar, as she lovingly referred to it as. Her best friend was sharp as a tack in noticing anything even slightly out of place with her, mood wise. Litigators always were.

“I think I’m in trouble,” she began, Paris immediately cutting in.  

“Trouble? Trouble how? Legal? Pregnancy? Financial, what?”

“Man trouble,” she confirmed, refilling her empty glass and catching the attention of a passing member of staff to bring another bottle over to them. She loved table service.  

At hearing that her woes were male oriented, Paris’s eyes lit up. “Ooooh, juiciness!” She had no idea of the half of it.  

“Yes, it is, but not in the way you’re thinking. You see the thing is, I...”

Paris made a gesture with her hand that indicated she should speed up her getting to the point. “Verbally procrastinating!”  

“He’s married.” Immediately, her friend threw her earlier words about bouquet appreciation to the wind and drained her glass.

“You’re having an affair?”

“No, no nothing like that. Well, it’s kind of like that. There’s been some...well see this is where it gets complicated. Apart from one kiss, one very hot sexting session and one other near kiss, we haven’t done anything, and we can’t either,” she explained, Paris looking like she was missing something.

“Okay, so then if you can’t do anything, then why don’t you just stop seeing him and letting these things happen?”  

Taking a deep breath, Zoey came out with it. “Because it’s Tyler.”  

“I will need four shots of Absolut Mandrin as well please.” Paris spoke to the server who brought their fresh bottle of wine, the girl nodding before she turned back to the bar. “Zoey...you...you and hot copper? But...”

“I know.”

“Ella!”

“I know!”

“Married for ten years!”

“Yes!”

“Three lovely kids!”

“I know!”

“Zoey!!”  

The shots couldn’t have arrived at a better time, Paris sinking her two and gesturing to the others. “Drink them quickly, because after what you’ve just told me, if you leave it any longer than five seconds, I’ll be putting them away too.” Doing as instructed, Zoey lifted the first glass to her lips, pouring the Russian rocket fuel down her throat, the second following.  

“So, how did it even start? I mean, you two are like bros! You do dude things like take the kids camping together since Ella hates the great outdoors. How can you go from that to sexting?” Going back to Ella’s birthday celebrations, Zoey explained it all, the admission from him that his marriage was on shaky ground where affection and physicality were concerned, his feeling of being constantly rejected, the silly flirting, the very serious, very hot moment in the hallway, everything that had gone on in two weeks, leading up to that night, nearly kissing him in the squad car.  

“Well, that man in a uniform, I can’t blame you for being weak, but I will if you bloody carry on! It doesn’t matter that he’s on rocky ground in his marriage, that doesn’t make it right, Zoey, just in case you’re using that as justification over continuing with this little flirtation. Well, not that you can call it that, because it sounds like you’re both holding onto the urge not to bang each other with some very flimsy resolve.”

“Yes, I agree with everything you just said,” Zoey replied, lamentation clear in her voice.  

“But you really don’t want to, do you?” Correct.  

“No. I want him. I want him all over me and I want him so badly it’s driving me to distraction. When we met for lunch on Thursday and I kept spacing out, that was because of him. It’s getting so bad now that not even thinking how much it’d break Ella’s heart is working as a deterrent. The selfish bitch in me just keeps thinking that if she doesn’t want him sexually, then I’ll have him. I mean, how rotten is that of me!” That’s when Paris saw it, that truly, it was something tearing her up inside because of course, he was her sister’s husband.  

“That’s forbidden desire for you, baby. It’s like the old cartoons where the protagonist is wrestling with a moral dilemma. You’ve got an angel on that shoulder and a devil on the other.” Tapping her shoulders, she then picked up her wine and finished the glass, quick to top them both up. “It’s who you listen to more that’s important. But hear this, lady. No man is worth wrecking the bond you have with your sister over.”  

Zoey nodded, knowing she was right. “Not even one time, just to get it out of our systems?”

“Mate, if you’re lusting after each other this badly after one kiss and one sexting session, one fuck ain’t gonna do it. You’ll be opening Pandora’s box, or rather Zoey’s box.” She couldn’t help but snort at Paris’s analogy. “But you know what I mean. Once you fuck him, are you really going to be content in never doing it again? Will your conscience ever truly stop kicking you too, for betraying your sister?”

She was right, everything she said made sense, Zoey confirming as much. “I have to try harder, don’t I?”

“Yes! I mean, it can’t be easy since you’re all in each other’s lives so much with how tight knit your family is, but that’s what you have to remember, the lovely little family you have and how pursuing anything with Tyler would blow all of that apart. She’d find out, you know. They always do,” Paris warned, a warning that in time to come, Zoey would wish she’d heeded a little better.

“Well, we don’t have anything social planned together for a while. Not until we’re due to take the kids camping in six weeks, actually. I might have to abandon that plan.” Paris agreed that it would likely be best. Unburdened from her dark secret, Zoey actually felt a little better and together, the friends had a lovely night out.  

“Here, ladies. Let me walk you to your taxi under this,” the friendly doorman offered at closing time, ushering them under the huge, black golfing umbrella he held. “That storm is coming in a few hours earlier than planned!”

There’d been a severe weather warning set in place for much of the east of Queensland beginning Saturday lunchtime, with Brisbane right in the firing line of the huge storm weathermen were predicted could last for anything up to two days in total with little respite. With the rain tumbling from the sky with the ferocity it was, it seemed it might be arriving a little sooner.  

Indeed, by 8am the following morning, the news broadcaster was advising people to stay indoors, Zoey watching the lightning forking the sky, the trees all beginning to bend in the hostile winds blowing through the city.  

“Blimey!” she exclaimed, watching a car attempting to get down the street go sideways for a few moments before continuing on its path. She was glad she had no plans, nowhere to go and a kitchen full of food not dependent on whether the power went out, as it sometimes did. It was while she was foraging for some of said food that her phone began to ring. Her heart leapt in her chest when she saw it was Tyler.

“Hey, sorry to bother you early, but I’m in a bit of a jam,” he spoke, the wind howling all around him before suddenly going quiet. He’d just gotten into his truck, she recognised the squeak on the hinge when the door closed.  

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I can’t get home with this bloody storm, it’s too risky, fuckin’ cars skating all over the highway, so I need somewhere safe to be. Any chance I can come to yours until it passes? I’d ask Cait, believe me, but she’s too far out and it’s like the end of days out here. Shit the fuckin’ bed! A wheelie bin just landed on a squad car, fuck!” he exclaimed, explaining the scene in front of him as he started the engine. “I know things are weird right now, but I wouldn’t ask unless I wasn’t really stuck.”

She didn’t have a choice, really, but hated herself for feeling a little sliver of excitement. “Okay, come over. Be careful, though.”

“Will do. See you in a bit.” Putting down her phone, she folded her arms in front of her on the polished, smooth black counter in her kitchen, collapsing down and promptly screaming. “What am I doing? What...okay so he could get really hurt out there, and he’s family and I have to help him out, but...I need to staple my goddamn flaps shut, make a chastity belt, put a mouse trap into my pants, something, anything to stop us being stupid!”  

She raided the cupboard and made herself a quick sandwich of fried egg and sriracha sauce (her favourite breakfast ever) before washing up and putting a load of laundry into the machine, about to go and grab the towels from the bathroom, but stopping on the way when she realised the state of her carpets. Vacuum first. Not that Tyler gave a shit, but she was lazy with housework (nothing like what he was used to with Ella) and realised that in a situation where power might be lost, then it was better to get it done.  

She was just putting the vacuum away again in the hallway cupboard when a knock came at her apartment door, sending her heart into her throat. Upon opening it, she could have passed out on the spot.  

“Sorry, I think I’m about to get your floor wet.” A soaked to the skin Tyler said, smiling crookedly in an apologetic manner.  

‘That isn’t the only thing.’ She thought, letting him in.