#but she's finally seeing consequences for her actions

[kaiyonohime]

Update in the Sherry Tenney case!

If you don't know who the scam artist Sherry Tenney is, here is my pinned post about her.

[The Bureau of Consumer Protection is writing to update you concerning the consumer complaint you filed against Tenney’s Fiber Farm, LLC (the “Company”) and the above-referenced litigation.

As you may know, Sherry Tenney has filed for Chapter 13 bankruptcy in the United States Bankruptcy Court in the Middle District of Pennsylvania under Case Number 1:23-bk-02752-HWV.

If you have not done so already, you may wish to file a proof of claim form in the bankruptcy. A proof of claim form may be filed either electronically or as a paper document. The Bankruptcy Court has set a deadline of February 12, 2024 for creditors to file proofs of claim. To assist you in that matter, we have enclosed a blank proof of claim form for you to complete and submit to the bankruptcy court.

Please send the completed proof of claim form to:

Sylvia H. Rambo US Courthouse U.S. Bankruptcy Court 1501 N. 6th St. Harrisburg, PA 17102

Please be advised, our office cannot offer you legal advice. You should consult with a private attorney to ensure that your rights are preserved in the bankruptcy proceedings.

Very truly yours,

Mia Paone Consumer Protection Agent]

If Sherry Tenney owes you money, please file immediately!

Sherry Tenney's next court date is February 1st, 2024. So she could be trying to get ahead of a verdict. I have a feeling, given everything that's come out in discovery, that the judge is going to throw the book at her. She also owes nearly $80k in legal fees at this point, and with no income and no job, she's probably stiffing her lawyer too.

And, as always, a trapped wolf can still bite, so please avoid her at all costs. She is still bragging about being armed and dangerous.

[joysmercer]

what if each episode of season 4 was 90 minutes and spanned 2ish months, leading them up to opening night (07) and ricky/kourtney/maddox graduation (08). they don't get approval for the fall musical right from the get-go because of the movie. so they prep for spring throughout the year while dealing with (actual!) doc fallout and filming and stressors of all kinds.

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[sammydem0n64]

The whole plot of Crumbled! (at least the main plot since several characters aren’t. Involved in that. Funny side plots and characters baby!) is how organized crime affects people, inside of it and out. It’s how members of the mob don’t have anything else they can do in life aside from the life of crime, it’s how the general public are harmed by organized crime even if they aren’t being targeted personally, it’s how being a member of this lifestyle can destroy or build your relationships, it’s how no one is pure evil or pure good, it’s the complexity of people while also being about The Horrors.

No one here faces “traditional consequences” to their actions, aside from a few. Hershey doesn’t go to jail, Donna doesn’t die, etc etc. This is a story that doesn’t need those consequences. From day 1 you know these characters are doing horrible things, and at the same time these characters learn and fully comprehend they’re doing bad things. The most they get as “traditional retribution” is how some of their personal relationships are affected. Aside from that, these fuckers dont NEED what the masses would deem a traditional consequence because the entire fucking plot is them going through the horrors because of their actions! Being in the mafia and seeing and doing horrible things while having to just live with it is a pretty damn good “consequence” to me! Melphis doesn’t need to go to jail because “he needs to suffer the consequences of his actions” when every single damn day he suffers‼️

Even if Cheon’s family isn’t destroyed, even if the Oreona family doesn’t ostracize it’s members that are criminals, even if the extremes aren’t reached in these “consequences” there’s still a damn effect!!! But at the end of the day like I said these guys suffer the consequences of their actions constantly so they don’t need jail time or death or anything like that oh my god. And if you think that’s wrong and makes me romanticize, endorse or fucking glorify the mafia because Melphis doesn’t get locked up and only two members of the Oreo Gang die in the end then OHHHHHH GROW UP‼️ GROW UP‼️‼️

[allseeingdirt]

everytime i think about kath for too long especially when considering the wider picture im like. ngeremes plastik

[rin-may-1103]

The Disappointment.

This may or may not have multiple parts, depending on whether I feel like writing more. (dcxdp, demon twin au.) also based on some post I read a while ago... can't remember for the life of me who wrote it but if any of you guys do, let me know.

"This way," Mother hissed, snatching Danny's wrist tightly. Damian lagged behind, twisting his head this way and that, keeping an eye out for anyone following them.

"Quick now, we must hurry." She hissed again, her eyes darting back and forth, eyeing the small nicks and scratches she had left previously to lead them away.

Danny glanced back at his brother, watching as he scowled and defiantly lifted his head. His baby brother would die before he allowed anyone to see him defeated.

Glancing back to the path, Danny watched as Mother took down anyone who was in their way, killing without hesitation. As he watched another body hit the floor, Grandfather's muttered words from when he left dinner, ran through the back of his head, "Bring the disappointment to me after sundown. I've seen enough."

There was nowhere in the world they could hide that Grandfather wouldn't follow. They would be hunted for the rest of their short lives, hiding in fear like cowards. Grandfather would not rest until he drew blood.

"In here, Habibi, quiet now. Quickly, both of you." Mother finally let Danny's wrist go, darting across the hall to open the secret door. Danny moved to the side, signaling to Damian that he would keep watch. His brother nodded his head and quickly made his way over, ducking into the small, dark, and eerie corridor.

Mother crouched next to Damian, running her hands over his face like this would be the last time she would see it. knowing her, she probably expected it to be. No one went against their grandfather without severe consequences.

Glancing over his shoulder, Danny studied the shadows; there was a lookout patrol moving closer, which meant they only had a minute before they were discovered. Gritting his teeth, Danny darted across the hall, but instead of joining his mother and brother in the dark corridor, he pushed the wall back, leaving only the missing brick his mother had initially taken out.

"Danyal!" his mother hissed, her voice full of stern panic.

"Apologies Mother, but I can not let you do this," Danny replied, glancing to the side to see how much time he had left. Forty seconds. Crouching down, he picked up the brick and looked back at his mother. Damian stood next to her, his brows furrowed in confusion. Obviously, he hadn't figured out Danny's plan, otherwise he would have started shouting at him.

Mother stared at him for a second, her stern eyes wavering for the first time in Danny's life that he could remember. "Take care of him for me, keep him safe when I can not," Danny asked, grabbing the hood hanging around the back of his neck.

Mother's eyes teared up, but she straightened her back, her black hair framing her pretty face. "You've made up your mind then," she said, her voice low and steady. She rested her hand on Damian's shoulder, giving Danny a nod of understanding. "You are like your father, his love makes him weak."

"But," she continued, kneeling down in a bow, "You are of the demon's blood, it runs in your veins just like mine. Your actions will not be forgotten, nor will they be for nothing. You have my word, tifl alqamar. I love you, Habibi."

Danny nodded his head, unable to voice the thoughts clogging his throat. Instead, he took a silent breath, pulled his hood and mask into place, and shoved the final brick into place. Sealing off his precious family just in time to hear the guards around the corner.

Turning around, Danny silently stalked forward, drawing his shoulders back. The group rounded the corner and stopped, watching him in anticipation. Pitching his voice just slightly to the left and rolling his tongue, Danny spoke in a neutral voice, "take me to grandfather."

The two guards in front shared a look, but the ones in the back straightened up and moved aside. Marching forward, Danny passed the two hesitating guards and with a quick slice, brought them to their knees. He needed this to work, there was no room for mercy, no matter how much he hated it.

"I am the grandson of the demon head, you will respect me as you respect him. there will be no next time." Danny continued walking, pretending to not care if the two managed to follow or not. the remaining guards trailed behind him, silently observing him.

Danny was glad Mother had insisted on them matching today. otherwise, his plan would have failed long before he made it to his grandfather's door.

Stopping in front of the painted carved wood that was grandfather's door, Danny idly studied the carvings and statues around the grand hall. He remembered all the stories of how grandfather had collected them over his lifetime; grand stories of bloodshed and cunning manipulation.

His eyes settled on the one farthest away, with the least interesting story. It was considered ordinary, placed next to art worth billions. But it was Danny's favorite. It was a simple green crystal, carved like a crescent moon.

so simple, yet the most beautiful piece in Danny's opinion. He had always hoped he would die beneath the stars and his ever-faithful friend the moon. Maybe, instead of beneath them, he could die amongst them.

He would take it with him, he decided.

Turning sharply, Danny marched over to the small pedistal and plucked the crystal into his hand. Wrapping his fingers around it, he shoved it into a side pocket and returned back to his position.

They only had to wait for another minute before the door opened, grandfather's servants clearing a path for Danny to walk through.

"I see your mother did not drag you away," Grandfather mused, sitting in his large chair. His dark eyes studied Danny's form, taking in the katana on his back, and the hood and mask concealing his face. He was dressed like he would for a mission; no discernable features, no sign of who he was or wasn't. The perfect image of an assassin.

"at least you aren't a coward," Grandfather hummed, standing from his seat. He slowly pulled out his own katana, aiming it at Danny in a challenge. "no, just disappointing. but you are my blood and that earns you the right to die an honorable death. Draw your sword child, and fight like the warrior you are."

Danny bowed like he had been taught, then without another moment of hesitation, drew his sword and lunged.

He wished he could say it was a drawn-out battle of strength and minds, but it was not. for Danny was only ten years old, and his grandfather had hundreds of years of training and discipline behind him.

he gazed up at his grandfather as his knees hit the ground, his katana dropping to the ground as his hand reached up to the sword impaling his chest. Grandfather's eyes were filled with nothing but contempt, contempt for the useless boy he had just sentenced to death.

but his contempt did not bother Danny, no instead it drew a smile to his face. As much as Grandfather lorded his sharp mind over them, he had never been able to stop Danny from surprising him. So, with a burst of adrenaline, Danny allowed the small shuriken he hid in his sleeve to drop to his left hand and buried it deep into his grandfather's chest.

grandfather lunged back, pulling his katana with him, removing the only thing keeping Danny upright. Danny's body hit the ground, and with the last of his strength, he twisted his head so he could listen as his grandfather cried out in anger.

Grandfather's breath was heavy, the sound of him removing the dagger filling the silence. the shuriken was dropped to the ground with a sharp clatter, falling just a few feet from Danny's face.

"you," Grandfather huffed, "aren't such a disappointment after all. I'll grant you one last honor and keep you in the family tomb. Rest now, Damian, you have fought well."

Danny smiled, the cold feeling of blood loss crawling through his body, but not fast enough to block out the pressure of the moon crystal still in his pocket. He hoped Mother had gotten Damian out in time, and he hoped Damian could forgive him for what he had done.

[magicpiano]

DCxDP AU where Dani fakes being an alien.

Dani's obsession with travel also left her with a desire to know more about the places she couldn't travel to, like Krypton and Mars. Considering the vast majority of both those populations are dead, it was easy enough for her to befriend some ghost aliens. From them she learns about their culture and language.

At some point one of her new friends jokes that her ghost powers kind of function like a mix of Kryptonian and Martian biology. She laughs. It is just a joke.

At least till she is in danger. The GIW finally found her. She is scared and desperate and tells a lie. Dani screams out, "Superman, if you can hear me, I am Kryptonian too and they are trying to capture me. Please help."

She doesn't actually expect this plan to work. It was a last ditch hail Mary. She figured she would (fully) die here, but even if he was on the other side of the earth he hears her and comes to her rescue.

But see, actions have consequences and now that she is safe she needs to keep the lie going. It is a good thing her alien ghost friends are willing to help her create a fabricated story about how a Martin and a Kryptonian managed to get to earth, have a child, and for some reason aren't around anymore.

It is not an ideal situation, but being an alien is legal while being a ghost isn't, so what's a girl to do? If there is one thing a child who travels the world alone knows how to do, it is lie and bullshit their way through any situation.

Meanwhile, Clark and J'onn are thrilled and fighting each other for custody.

[thevillainswhore]

A Forbidden Invitation

Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.

Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne

“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?” 

It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.

You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her. 

“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”

Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for. 

Oh no. The puppy eyes.

“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.” 

The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?” 

“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?” 

The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“

“Becca!” 

“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.” 

“He invited me?” you asked, surprised. 

“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.” 

She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”

The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind. 

The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you. 

Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.

Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”

You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being. 

Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint. 

However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day. 

The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about. 

So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect. 

In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes. 

You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair. 

The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose. 

Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you. 

Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs. 

Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least. 

If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him. 

Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met. 

Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen. 

You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed. 

The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved. 

With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes. 

“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?” 

Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage. 

But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun. 

The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the  goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.” 

Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked. 

The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close. 

“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.  

The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape. 

His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing. 

Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt. 

“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“ 

You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way. 

The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.

“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked. 

You did do anything he asked. 

You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure. 

Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down. 

Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth. 

You were aching for him. 

With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.” 

Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”

“Babe!” 

Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?” 

You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down. 

Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied. 

The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!” 

Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast? 

Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station. 

Who the fuck was this girl? 

Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.” 

You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.

The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.” 

Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.” 

Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.” 

With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage. 

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease. 

“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.

But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.” 

Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion. 

Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it. 

You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper. 

Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her. 

However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside. 

I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival. 

I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home. 

Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket. 

J.B.B.

“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight. 

You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with. 

Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her. 

“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself. 

You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.” 

“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.” 

Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.” 

“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.” 

The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.” 

“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away. 

Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.” 

Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.

The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.  

But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up. 

That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!” 

Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!” 

Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation. 

Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. 

But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room. 

As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.

You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center. 

You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps. 

Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore. 

You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.  

As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.” 

You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible. 

Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this. 

But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere. 

Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.

You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well. 

The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously. 

Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”

Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.

He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you. 

Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised. 

Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”

“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.” 

It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name. 

Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin. 

Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.” 

Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”  

You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were. 

“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs. 

“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.” 

“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs. 

When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared. 

You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened. 

An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle. 

You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself. 

Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment. 

The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts. 

Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind. 

Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.

“I see you’re working hard.” 

Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.  

The sight was a difficult one to swallow. 

It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf. 

He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.” 

“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“ 

“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?” 

Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“

“Bucky,” he corrected gently. 

“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.” 

Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling. 

A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.

His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.” 

You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.” 

“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned. 

The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves. 

“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer. 

“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short. 

“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs. 

“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading. 

“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.” 

Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him. 

Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.

Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?” 

His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”

“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?” 

Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been. 

Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”  

You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head. 

It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head. 

For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.

Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”

Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic. 

You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers. 

“Dad! Where are you?” 

Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos. 

It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore. 

You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.” 

“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.” 

This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired. 

But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface. 

Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad. 

You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully. 

After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.

Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room. 

“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?” 

“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged. 

Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone. 

You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space. 

“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”

But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.” 

The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice? 

Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.

“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud. 

You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.

It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes. 

However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail. 

The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out. 

The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.” 

Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.  

Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard. 

You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.

But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.” 

Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.

“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?” 

Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood. 

Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned. 

“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?” 

You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder. 

A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him. 

“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly. 

“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin. 

You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone. 

“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily. 

Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.” 

“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.

Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.” 

The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once. 

“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?” 

You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.

A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.” 

“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.” 

Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.” 

Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”

Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”

His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?” 

“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.” 

Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special. 

You so desperately wanted to feel special. 

Just like he made you feel back in the summer. 

The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired. 

You were so fucking tired. 

The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically. 

Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.” 

The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer. 

Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?

Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too. 

Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.” 

With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath. 

He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him. 

The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.” 

He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?” 

Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.” 

His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.” 

Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands. 

“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground. 

You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly. 

Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?” 

Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”

Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue. 

The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine. 

“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.” 

The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger. 

“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.” 

You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.” 

You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!” 

Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.” 

He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.” 

Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him. 

“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?” 

Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths. 

“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”

Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.” 

Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.

“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh. 

While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising. 

Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties. 

The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike. 

“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”

You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter. 

“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.” 

The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled. 

“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?” 

It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt. 

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.” 

Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds. 

You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—” 

Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.” 

His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.” 

The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!” 

“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls. 

Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?” 

You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter. 

But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!” 

You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.” 

Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat. 

“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?” 

“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.” 

Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?” 

“Yes! Please!” you cried. 

Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.” 

You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation. 

Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.” 

His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds. 

“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?” 

Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.” 

“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips. 

“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”

Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.” 

His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.” 

With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.  

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock. 

“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.” 

“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed. 

“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?” 

Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.” 

His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago. 

“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.” 

“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.  

You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”

But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?” 

You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!” 

“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear. 

Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.” 

Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.” 

You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up. 

His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped. 

“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.” 

You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.” 

Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?” 

“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.” 

“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.” 

You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach. 

“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked. 

You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you. 

You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally. 

“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.” 

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words. 

“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over. 

“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy. 

“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.

Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.” 

Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.” 

You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles. 

An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.” 

But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?” 

You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much. 

“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets. 

“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.” 

It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves. 

Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.” 

Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.” 

A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast. 

“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms. 

Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest. 

Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses. 

A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.” 

You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core. 

But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt. 

[the-daily-dreamer]

I will never forgive HOTD for making me sit through TWO Rhaenyra births and TWO Rhaenyra weddings…

But never having us see Alicent’s wedding or births. Scenes that would have forced the fans to confront the true reality of how despicable her situation is. It would force viewers to see a child, devastated, as she walks down the aisle to her creepy old man of a husband. It would force viewers to watch a little girl have a child. Completely unprepared and alone, crying for her mother and finding no sympathy. She has no father to protect her. No mother to guide her and comfort her. No husband who cares about her.

It would force team black to stop seeing her as the evil seductress, for even a moment. And see her true vulnerability. See how she doesn’t, and never did, want this. See how these are not consequences of her actions, but instead the consequences of the men around her that she has to suffer for them. Because they don’t care about her. Viserys doesn’t care about her.

These are scenes that are meant to bring sympathy to her character. To give Alicent a reason to be righteously angry at the family and system that broke her down and stole her childhood. It gives Alicent a valid motive to fight aside from fear. And it takes away the chances for team black to deny her suffering at least a little bit.

Because as the current narrative sits, it’s easy to ignore Alicent’s experience and warp it into a much more pleasant story. They see Alicent “seducing” the king and then she is already married. And then she’s pregnant and the babies magically appear. No screaming or crying or bleeding involved. All is good. The teenager definitely didn’t suffer at all. And by doing this some people can’t sympathize as much or they are given allowances to intentionally not sympathize.

Instead. The current narrative allows for Alicent to be the seductress, the crazed woman, the jealous bitch, and the villain. But if we saw what she actually went through. Alone, scared, suffering, neglected, and holding it all in. We would be allowed to see her as she truly is. The victim. Finally crushing under the weight of it all and lashing out.

(And the narrative would be all the better for it because instead of feminist icon team vs crazy trad wife and co (as far as team black sees it), we would have woman fighting against patriarchal narrative for her own claim vs woman fighting against patriarchal narrative to destroy the people who hurt her)

[stylesispunk]

"Did the love affair maim you too?" | Part iv

Joel Miller x f!reader

previous part | next part

chapter summary: After almost losing you, Joel does everything he can to get you back.

w.c: 14k (idk why all chapters are this long, sorry this is a filler chapter)

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, feelings of cheating, reader cries a lot, miscommunication, fluff, and poorly written smut. No proofreading, sorry.

a/n: chapter four was supposed to be the last one but I keep writing many words. Thank you so much for the love you have shown to this story so far, you will finally see the light in this chapter, so much love for you. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Joel’s heart hasn’t been beating this rapidly since that night.

Running desperately behind Tommy as they made their way back through the darkened woods, moving as quickly as they could while still being careful not to jostle you too much.

He could still feel the warmth of your skin irradiating his hands as the rest of the world around him felt distant, blurred by the sole focus on keeping you alive. Every breath you took, every faint whisper of your voice, was a reminder that you were still here, still fighting.

Tommy’s own fear was evident in the urgency of his movements. He kept glancing back at his older brother with you on his arms. The silence between the two of them felt heavy, filled with the unspoken dread of what might happen if they didn’t make it back to Jackson in time.

Tommy feared what might be the consequences for him if you wouldn’t make out alive of this.

The guilty.

The regret.

The madness.

The what if.

When the lights of Jackson came into view, Tommy felt like breathing again. Looking behind him, if he could see the same light on Joel’s face, he only saw his brother's fastness of pace.

As they approached the gates, Tommy called out to the guards, who quickly opened the gates for them, their faces showing shock and concern as they saw the state you were in.

Your clothes were dripping in blood, and Joel’s didn’t know if that was all yours at this time.

He was terrified.

“Get the infirmary ready!” Tommy shouted as they hurried through the gates, his voice commanding and urgent. The guards and townspeople quickly sprang into action, clearing a path and rushing ahead to prepare for your arrival.

Joel didn’t let go of you, even as they reached the infirmary. He carried you inside, his arms trembling from the effort but refusing to let go. Dr. Ramirez was already there, Maria with her, her face pale with worry as she saw you in that state.

“Get her on the table,” Dr. Ramirez instructed, moving quickly to clear the space as the other doctor joined her. Joel reluctantly laid you down, his hands hovering over you as if afraid to leave your side.

“We need space to work,” Dr. Ramirez said gently but firmly, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You need to step back.”

Joel looked like he was about to argue, his eyes locked on your now pale face, but Tommy stepped in, guiding him away from the table. “Let them do their job, Joel,” he said quietly, his voice laced with his own anxiety. “They’ll take care of her.”

Joel stood there, his heart pounding as he watched the medics swarm around you, their hands moving swiftly as they assessed your injuries and began to save your life. He felt helpless, every instinct screaming at him to protect you, but all he could do was stand there and wait, praying that you would pull through.

Maria approached Joel, her face etched with concern. “She’s strong, Joel,” she said softly, trying to offer some comfort. “She’ll get through this.”

But Joel could only nod numbly, his eyes never leaving your still form as the medics worked to save your life. The weight of everything he had almost lost bore down on him, and all he could do was hope that it wasn’t too late.

In the midst of the chaos, as the medics worked quickly and urgently around you, you reached out with a trembling hand, searching for something familiar, something to anchor you in the middle of the pain and fear you felt. Your fingers brushed against Joel’s hand, and you gripped it tightly, as if holding on for dear life.

Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he felt your touch. He immediately clasped your hand in both of his, his grip firm yet gentle, like he was afraid to hurt you but even more afraid to let go.

“I’m here,” he whispered, leaning closer to you, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here, sunshine. I’m not going anywhere.”

The medics continued to work, their hands moving with practiced efficiency, but for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just you and Joel, connected by that small, desperate touch.

Your eyes fluttered open, just barely, and you looked up at him, your gaze clouded with pain. “Joel…”

“Shh, don’t talk,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a soothing motion. “Save your strength. Just keep holding on, okay?”

You nodded weakly, your grip on his hand tightening for a brief moment before your strength waned again. But you didn’t let go, and neither did he.

In that moment, as the medics fought to save your life, Joel realized just how deeply he cared for you. The thought of losing you was unbearable, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to make sure you made it through this.

Tommy stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with a heavy heart, understanding the depth of his brother's feelings without a word being spoken. He placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder, offering silent support as they both stood vigil, waiting for the moment when the worst would pass and you could finally be safe again.

"Hold her hand," Dr. Ramirez instructed, knowing that the pain would be intense as she began to stitch your wound. "She’s going to need you to keep her grounded."

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on your hand, leaning in closer so you could feel his presence and hear his voice. "I’m right here," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You hold on to me, okay?"

You nodded weakly, your face pale and glistening with sweat. The pain was unbearable—a searing, white-hot agony that tore through your body as the doctor prepared to stitch the wound. You gritted your teeth, but as soon as the needle pierced your skin, a scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate.

Joel winced, his heart shattering at the sound of your pain, but he didn’t let go. He squeezed your hand tighter, his other hand brushing your hair back from your face in a comforting gesture. "I know it hurts, sunshine, I know," he murmured, his voice steady even though he was breaking inside. "But you’ve got to hold on. Just a little longer, okay?"

Dr. Ramirez worked quickly, her hands steady and sure as she stitched your wound, but the pain was relentless. Each stitch felt like fire, and you cried out again, your body writhing involuntarily on the table.

"Look at me," Joel urged, his voice a lifeline in the sea of pain. "Keep your eyes on me. I’m not letting go."

Your gaze found his, your eyes wide and filled with tears, but you focused on him—on the sound of his voice, on the feel of his hand in yours. It was the only thing that kept you from losing yourself in the agony.

"That’s it," he whispered, his thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "You’re doing so good. Just a little bit longer, and this’ll all be over."

Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, the pain overwhelming, but you clung to his hand like a lifeline. His voice and his touch were the only things keeping you grounded, and you held on with everything you had.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor tied off the last stitch and stepped back, her expression one of relief. "We’re done," she said softly, wiping her hands on a towel. “We need to keep her wound from an infection.”

Joel let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did it, sunshine," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of pride and relief. "You’re going to be okay."

The pain was still there, a dull, throbbing ache, but as the worst of it began to ebb away, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You managed a small, tired smile up at Joel, your eyes heavy with the need for rest.

"Stay with me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don’t leave me."

"Never," Joel promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not going anywhere."

As the last stitch was secured, the intense pain began to subside, leaving you drained and trembling. The doctor stepped back, wiping her hands as she gave a nod of reassurance to Joel.

"You’re going to be alright," she said softly, her voice a gentle balm in the quiet room. "Get some rest now. You need it."

You felt the weight of exhaustion pulling you down, your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. The pain had dulled to a steady throb, and your body, finally allowed a reprieve, craved the relief of sleep.

"Stay with me," you whispered again, your voice barely above a murmur as you looked up at Joel. Your grip on his hand loosened, not out of fear, but out of sheer weariness.

"I���m right here," Joel replied, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned closer. "I’m not going anywhere, sunshine. You rest now."

You managed a faint smile, comforted by his presence, and let your eyes drift shut. The world around you began to fade, the sounds of the infirmary growing distant as sleep took hold.

Joel watched as your breathing slowed, your face relaxing into a peaceful expression. He kept his hand in yours, even as your grip slackened completely, his thumb gently brushing against your skin.

He stayed by your side, his own heart finally starting to calm, as he whispered, "I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go. Never again."

Joel sat by your side, his fingers gently brushing the strands of hair away from your face. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might break under his hands. He watched your chest rise and fall with each breath, the steady rhythm a small comfort after the chaos of the night.

His thumb traced the line of your jaw, his eyes never leaving your face. He took in every detail—the curve of your lips, the way your lashes rested softly against your cheeks, the slight furrow in your brow that lingered even in sleep. It was as if he were memorizing you, committing this moment to memory, a reminder that you were here, alive, and safe.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel didn’t hear Tommy approach until his brother’s voice broke through the silence.

“Joel,” Tommy said softly, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You should get some rest. She’s gonna be fine. The doc said so.”

Joel didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on you. He knew Tommy was right, knew that he needed sleep, but the thought of leaving you, even for a moment, felt impossible.

“I can’t,” Joel finally murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “I can’t leave her, Tommy. Not after everything…”

Tommy sighed, his heart aching for his brother. He could see the toll the night had taken on Joel—the worry etched into his face, the exhaustion weighing down his shoulders. He crouched down beside him, trying to meet Joel’s gaze.

“I know you’re scared,” Tommy said quietly. “But she’s strong. She made it through, and she’ll keep fighting. But you—you need to take care of yourself too, Joel. You can’t help her if you’re running on empty.”

Joel finally tore his eyes away from you, looking at Tommy with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I just… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I could survive it.”

Tommy’s expression softened, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, offering a small, reassuring smile. “You won’t lose her, Joel. She’s not going anywhere. But you need to be strong for her, and that means getting some rest. I’ll stay here with her. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

Joel hesitated, his gaze flickering back to you. The thought of leaving, even just to lie down, felt wrong. But he knew Tommy was right; he was barely holding on, and you needed him to be strong.

Joel shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, Tommy," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm staying with her."

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Joel's face stopped him. There was a quiet resolve in Joel's expression, a fierce protectiveness that Tommy knew all too well. He had seen it before, back when Joel would do anything to keep the people he cared about safe. And now, with you lying there so vulnerable, Tommy knew there was no convincing his brother to leave your side.

"Alright," Tommy finally said, his tone gentle. "But you need to rest too, Joel. Even just for a little while. I’ll be here, watching over both of you.”

Joel didn’t respond, his focus entirely on you as you slept. His thumb continued to trace soothing patterns on the back of your hand, grounding himself in the simple act of holding on to you. He could see the tension slowly easing from your features, the pain and exhaustion giving way to a deeper, more peaceful sleep.

Tommy sighed softly, pulling up a chair beside Joel. “I’ll stay right here,” he promised, his voice low. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’re all here for you and for her.”

Joel nodded, acknowledging his brother’s presence, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. He couldn’t. The thought of closing his eyes, even for a second, felt impossible. What if you needed him? What if something happened while he wasn’t watching?

He didn’t want to miss a thing.

So he stayed, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes tracing the familiar contours of your face as if to reassure himself that you were still there, still breathing, still alive. The fear that had gripped him so tightly was still there, but it was tempered by the warmth of your hand in his, the steady rhythm of your breath, and the quiet strength that you always seemed to carry.

“Get some rest, Joel,” Tommy urged quietly, but Joel simply shook his head.

“I’m fine,” Joel murmured, though the exhaustion in his voice was evident. “I just need to be here.”

Tommy watched his brother for a moment, seeing the depth of love and fear in Joel’s eyes. He knew better than to push. Joel would rest when he was ready, and not a moment before. So, instead, Tommy settled into his chair, keeping watch alongside his brother, the two of them united in their silent vigil over you.

And as the hours passed, Joel remained by your side, his hand wrapped around yours, his gaze never wavering. Because in that moment, nothing mattered more to him than being there for you, making sure you knew that no matter what, he would always be there, holding on, and never letting go.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the small window of the infirmary, you slowly began to stir. The world around you was a haze, the remnants of pain and exhaustion still weighing heavily on your body. You blinked slowly, your vision clearing enough to make out the room around you.

It took you a moment to realize that Joel was there, his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. He was asleep; his face relaxed in a way that you hadn’t seen in a long time. The sight of him like this, vulnerable and close, brought a faint smile to your lips despite the weakness that still coursed through your body.

You tried to lift your hand to touch him, to reassure yourself that this moment was real, but even that small movement felt like too much. Your body was still recovering, every muscle aching, every breath a reminder of the ordeal you had been through.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and barely audible.

He didn’t stir at first, his breathing steady and deep, his exhaustion evident in the way he clung to you even in sleep. But as you tried again, your fingers brushing lightly against his hair, he began to wake, his body tensing as he slowly lifted his head.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was nothing but relief in his expression, a flood of emotion that he couldn’t quite hide. He sat up quickly, his hand instinctively moving to check your bandages to make sure you were really okay.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, his voice thick with sleep and something deeper, something that made your heart ache.

You nodded weakly, your throat too dry to speak again. But your eyes said everything—how grateful you were that he was there, how much it meant to you to wake up and find him by your side.

Joel reached for a cup of water on the bedside table, carefully helping you take a few sips. “Easy,” he murmured, his touch gentle as he held the cup to your lips. “You need to take it slow.”

You did as he said, letting the cool water soothe your parched throat. When you had drunk enough, he set the cup aside and turned his full attention back to you, his hand resting on your shoulder as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Joel said, his voice filled with regret. “I should have been awake when you needed me.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the weakness that still gripped you. “You were here, Joel,” you whispered.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with so much emotion that it almost overwhelmed you. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted quietly, his voice trembling. “But you’re here. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded again, your heart swelling with gratitude and something else, something deeper that you couldn’t quite put into words. You were too tired to say more, too weak to do anything but close your eyes and let the warmth of his presence wash over you.

As you drifted back into sleep, your eyes fluttering shut, Joel felt a jolt of fear surge through him. Your sudden stillness, the way your body relaxed completely, sent a wave of panic crashing over him. His heart pounded in his chest as he gently shook your shoulder, trying to wake you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” Joel urged, his voice thick with fear. “Don’t go to sleep again. What’s happening?”

He looked around frantically for someone, anyone, to help. His hands trembled as he touched your face, feeling the coolness of your skin. “Doc! Doc, get in here!” Joel’s voice was desperate, echoing through the infirmary as he called out for help.

Within moments, the doctor and a nurse rushed into the room, their expressions serious as they approached the bed. Joel reluctantly stepped back, his eyes never leaving your face, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

“What’s happening to her?” Joel demanded, his voice breaking with emotion as he watched the doctor check your pulse and examine your condition.

“She’s okay,” the doctor said calmly, sensing Joel’s distress. “Her body is just exhausted. She needs to rest. The sleep is a good sign—it means she’s healing.”

Joel’s heart rate started to slow, but the fear still clung to him, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. “But she just went limp,” he said, his voice still shaking. “I thought—”

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. “I understand. It’s scary, but I promise you, she’s stable. Her body needs time to recover, and sleep is the best thing for her right now.”

Joel let out a shaky breath, his eyes returning to your sleeping form. He slowly sank back into the chair beside your bed, his hand instinctively reaching for yours again. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of his mind, but the doctor’s words gave him some comfort.

“Just make sure she’s okay,” Joel whispered, his voice barely audible as he watched you sleep. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not after everything that had happened.

The doctor nodded, giving Joel a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping back, leaving the room in the quiet of the early morning. The nurse adjusted your IV and checked your bandages, ensuring everything was in order before quietly exiting as well.

Joel stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours as he watched you breathe, each rise and fall of your chest a small comfort to him. He leaned back in his chair, exhaustion finally catching up to him, but he refused to let himself sleep again.

He couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.

That was the last time you opened your eyes.

For the past three days you had been lost in a slumber, healing. Perhaps from the internal wounds you had to recover yet from, the tiredness from your body, the emotional exhaustion you had been through, not only during that night but from the day Joel had appeared in your life.

And he hadn’t left your side.

For the past three days he had been sitting next to you, terrified of not being there the moment you would open your eyes.

He had made you a promise; he would never leave you again. As controlling as it sounded, he was afraid of letting you out of his sight. He was terrified of you never waking up again.

But he was mostly terrified of not being able to love you and show you he meant it.

He meant those three words the night he had made love to you.

Of course, his memories had come back the moment you almost left earth, as a reminder, perhaps, of how good you were to him.

He thought of Sarah, of how it was her who saved you to give her dad a chance to become the sweet man he once was.

For him, for you, and for the sake of a story he wanted to write.

The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh sunlight, allowing only a gentle glow to filter in. Joel sat by your bedside, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but unwilling to close. The past three days had been a blur—a mix of fear, hope, and unrelenting determination. He refused to let go of your hand, as if the physical connection would somehow anchor you to this world and keep you from slipping away.

Your breathing was steady, your face peaceful in sleep, but every time Joel looked at you, he was reminded of how close he had come to losing you. The thought of it made his heart clench.

For the past three days, he had been preparing for the moment you would open your eyes, knowing that when you did, everything would be different. He wanted to be ready, to be the man you deserved, to give you the love and life you both had been searching for.

So, he stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving you, waiting for the moment when you would wake up and see that he was there, just as he promised.

The quiet of the room was interrupted by the soft creak of the door as it opened. Joel’s attention snapped to the movement, his body instinctively tensing. When Lori stepped inside, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face visibly tightened.

Lori hesitated in the doorway, her eyes flickering between you and Joel. There was a hint of guilt in her expression and in the way she slipped into the room.

“Joel,” she began, her voice low, almost cautious.

Joel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stood up, his hand still holding yours, as if to remind both Lori and himself who he was protecting. His gaze was icy, his anger barely contained.

“What are you doing here?” Joel’s voice was cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth he had shown you moments before.

Lori shifted uncomfortably, clearly sensing the tension. “I came to check on her,” she said, trying to keep her tone steady. “I wanted to see how she’s doing.”

“She’s not your concern,” Joel snapped, his words laced with bitterness. “You’ve done enough.”

Lori flinched at his harshness, but she didn’t back down. “I know I messed up, Joel. But I’m not here to make excuses. I just… I just needed to see for myself that she’s okay.”

Joel’s eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t get to care now,” he said through gritted teeth. “You left her out there to die, Lori. You made your choice.”

Lori’s expression faltered, the guilt finally breaking through her resolve. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I can’t take back what I did. But I never wanted her to get hurt. I was just trying to protect everyone.”

“Protect?” Joel echoed, his voice rising in disbelief. “You call that protecting? You abandoned her. You put her life at risk to save your own skin. That’s not protecting. That’s cowardice.”

“Okay. You’re right. I wanted her death or out of our lives.” She said, clearly ashamed of her actions.

Joel’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as Lori's confession hung in the air. The raw truth of her words sent a wave of cold fury through him, so intense that for a moment he couldn’t speak. His grip on the edge of the bed tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"You wanted her dead or gone?" Joel’s voice was low, barely more than a growl. Each word was laced with disbelief and anger. “And you think that makes it better? That somehow, admitting it makes what you did okay?”

Lori couldn’t meet his gaze, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her shame. “No, it doesn’t. I was wrong, Joel. I see that now. I was selfish, and I let my fear get the better of me. But I never really wanted this—her lying there like this. I just didn’t know what to do.”

Joel stepped closer to her, his posture rigid with anger. “You didn’t know what to do, so you decided to let her die? Is that your excuse? She trusted you, Lori. We all did. And you betrayed her.”

Lori flinched as if his words had physically struck her. “I never wanted it to go this far,” she murmured, tears welling up in her eyes.

“If you wanted revenge for how I ended things between us, you could hurt me, not her. She had nothing to do with all this mess.” He said, voice cracking.

Lori's eyes widened as Joel's words sank in, the reality of her actions hitting her like a punch to the gut. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her face as she looked at Joel, her expression a mixture of regret and sorrow.

"I wasn’t thinking straight, Joel," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I was angry, hurt, and I lashed out in the worst way possible. But I swear, I never meant for her to get caught up in this. I was just so blinded by my own pain… I couldn’t see past it."

Joel shook his head, his own emotions a storm raging just beneath the surface. "You don’t get to hide behind your pain, Lori. We all have our demons, but what you did—what you almost cost me—it’s unforgivable."

“I know,” Lori whispered, her voice thick with guilt. “I let my anger control me, and I ended up hurting the person you care about most. I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I needed to say it. I was wrong, and I’ll live with that for the rest of my life.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Sorry isn’t enough, Lori. Not for this. I almost lost her because of you. The only reason I’m standing here right now is because she fought like hell to survive. But what you did—" he broke off, his voice faltering as the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.

Lori wiped at her tears, nodding slowly. "You’re right. There’s nothing I can say or do to fix this. But I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right, even if it means leaving Jackson. I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I can make sure it never happens again."

Joel stared at her, his heart aching with the knowledge that the person who had once been a close ally had become a source of such deep betrayal. Finally, he let out a long, weary sigh. "I don’t care what you do, Lori. Whether you stay or go, it doesn’t matter to me. Just… stay away from her. If you really want to make amends, you stay out of her life."

Lori nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat, turning and leaving the room, her footsteps echoing softly in the silence. Joel watched her go, his heart heavy with a mix of anger, sadness, and a deep, unshakeable fear of what might have happened if he hadn’t found you in time.

As the door clicked shut, Joel’s gaze returned to you, lying so still and fragile in the bed. The anger that had fueled him moments ago began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming need to protect you, to never let anything come between you again.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek. "I’m still here, sunshine," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "And I’m not going anywhere.”

A few minute later, Dr. Ramirez entered the room quietly, her presence calm and reassuring. She approached the bedside with practiced ease, her eyes quickly scanning your vitals before she looked over at Joel. His hand was still resting on your cheek, and he didn’t move as the doctor began her examination.

"She’s stable," Dr. Ramirez said softly after a moment, her tone measured but gentle. "The worst is behind her now. But she needs time, Joel.

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "She’s been through hell," he muttered, his voice rough with the strain of the last few days. "I just… I just want her to wake up, to be okay."

Dr. Ramirez paused, her gaze softening as she looked at him. "I understand how hard this is for you. But you need to take care of yourself too, Joel. She’s going to need you when she wakes up, and you’ll be no good to her if you’re running on empty."

Joel finally tore his eyes away from you to meet Dr. Ramirez’s gaze. "I’m fine," he insisted, though the exhaustion etched into his features told a different story.

Dr. Ramirez sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "You’re not fine. You’ve been sitting here for days, barely eating or sleeping. She’s going to need you at your best, Joel. You can’t help her if you don’t take care of yourself."

Joel clenched his jaw, his gaze dropping back to you. "I can’t leave her," he said quietly, his voice laced with a deep-seated fear. "What if she wakes up and I’m not here? What if she needs me and I’m not…"

"She’s going to need you," Dr. Ramirez interrupted gently, "but she’s also going to need you strong. Trust me, Joel. We’ll take good care of her while you rest. Just a few hours, get something to eat, maybe sleep a little. It doesn’t mean you’re abandoning her."

Joel hesitated, torn between his overwhelming need to stay by your side and the doctor’s rational advice. Finally, he sighed, a long, weary exhale that seemed to deflate him. "Just a few hours," he agreed reluctantly. "But I’m not going far."

Dr. Ramirez gave him a small, understanding smile. "That’s all I’m asking. Go get some rest, Joel. She’ll be here when you get back, I promise."

Joel looked at you one last time, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I’ll be back soon," he whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling landscape before you. The two of you had been out on patrol for hours, the silence between you heavy and tense, as it often was. Ever since Joel had been assigned as your partner, the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You didn’t see eye to eye on much, and every patrol seemed like a test of patience.

But this time, something was different. Maybe it was the way the light hit the mountains in the distance, or the rare moment of peace that seemed to settle over the world, but you found yourself drawn to the view, momentarily forgetting the usual friction between you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Joel. Your eyes were fixed on the horizon, the colors of the sunset reflecting in them, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Joel, who had been keeping watch as usual, turned his head slightly at the sound of your voice. He followed your gaze to the landscape, expecting to feel the same cold detachment he always did, the necessity to focus on the mission, on survival.

But when he looked, his eyes didn’t linger on the mountains or the sky. Instead, they stayed on you. The way the fading light caught in your hair, the way your expression softened as you took in the beauty of the scene.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. For once, there was no edge to his tone, no underlying frustration or impatience. Just quiet, genuine agreement.

You turned to look at him, surprised to hear him agreeing with you for once. “Really?” you asked, a hint of skepticism in your voice. “You think so?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours for a moment longer than usual. “Yeah,” he repeated, his gaze steady, but there was something unspoken in his eyes, something that caught you off guard. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

For a brief moment, the tension between you melted away, replaced by something warmer, something almost tender. It was fleeting, barely lasting more than a few heartbeats, but it was enough to make your chest tighten.

Joel quickly looked away, clearing his throat as if to dispel the moment. “We should get moving,” he muttered, his usual gruffness returning as he adjusted the strap on his rifle.

“Right,” you agreed, returning to the task at hand. But as you resumed your patrol, the moment lingered in the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to Joel than you had thought.

Joel had been dreaming of you in his hours of sleep, the fleeting images pulling him into memories that felt too real. In his dreams, you weren’t lying in a bed, fighting to recover; you were beside him, alive and vibrant, with that same determined fire in your eyes that had always made him admire you, even when the two of you clashed.

In one dream, the two of you were back on patrol, your laughter echoing in the open air as you teased him about something trivial, your voice full of life. In another, you were at Jackson, sitting by the fireplace, your eyes locked onto his as you talked about your hopes for the future—a future he hadn’t dared to hope for until you came into his life.

But the dreams always ended the same way. You would start to fade, your voice growing distant, your figure slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried to hold on. He would reach out for you, only to find his arms empty, the warmth of your presence replaced by a cold, haunting emptiness.

And then, he would wake up, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes would immediately dart to you, lying so still in the bed, and he would lean in close, needing to hear the soft sound of your breathing to reassure himself that you were still with him.

The dreams left him feeling raw and exposed, the fear of losing you gnawing at him even in sleep. He couldn’t shake the image of you slipping away, couldn’t rid himself of the overwhelming sense of dread that had taken root in his heart.

Joel had been trying to shake off the remnants of his dreams as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on his face. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to scrub away the exhaustion that clung to him. After three days of barely leaving your side, he had finally allowed himself a brief moment to freshen up, his mind still heavy with the images of his dreams.

The water did little to wash away the lingering fear, but he steeled himself, forcing his hands to stop trembling. He couldn’t afford to be weak now—not when you needed him to be strong. He dried his face, straightened his shirt, and took a deep breath before heading back to the infirmary.

As he approached the door, the sound of soft laughter reached his ears. It was Ellie’s voice, her words light and teasing, and he could hear you responding, your voice soft but undeniably awake. A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You were awake. You were okay.

But when he stepped into the room, his heart lifting at the sight of you, his smile faltered. Ellie was perched on the edge of your bed, animatedly talking about something, her hands moving in excited gestures. And you—you were smiling at her, a faint but genuine smile that lit up your face in a way he hadn’t seen in days.

For a moment, he just stood there, watching the two of you. The sight of you smiling, your eyes bright with life, should have filled him with relief. But when your eyes flickered up to meet his, the smile faded from your lips, replaced by an expression he couldn’t quite read.

The air between you shifted, the lightness that had been in the room moments ago dissipating as the tension settled in its place. Ellie, oblivious to the change, continued to talk, but Joel’s attention was locked on you, searching your face for any hint of what you were feeling.

He took a tentative step forward, his hand twitching at his side as if he wanted to reach out to you, but something held him back. The way your smile had disappeared, the way you looked at him now with that guarded expression—it made him hesitate.

“Hey,” he finally said, his voice rougher than he intended. He tried to soften it, to push past the wall that seemed to have sprung up between you in those few seconds. “You’re awake.”

Ellie, noticing the shift in the room, glanced between the two of you before quickly excusing herself. “I’ll let you guys talk,” she said, shooting you a small smile before slipping out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving just the two of you in the room. The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, and Joel struggled to find the right words to say.

“You’re looking better,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. He took another step closer, his eyes scanning your face for any sign that you were in pain. “How are you feeling?”

You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket covering you.

“Better,” you replied, your voice soft and devoid of the warmth he had just heard when you were talking to Ellie.

Joel felt a pang in his chest at the distance in your tone, the way you seemed to be pulling away from him even though you were right there in front of him. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had opened up between you, but he didn’t know how.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, the words heavy with everything he hadn’t yet had the chance to say. But your reaction—or lack thereof—kept him from saying more.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the blanket in your lap, your hands still twisting the fabric. It was as if the connection between you had been severed, and Joel couldn’t figure out how to mend it.

He had spent three days by your side, terrified of losing you, and now that you were awake, he was faced with the fear that he had lost you in a different way. The warmth he had clung to, the hope he had nurtured while you were unconscious, now felt like it had been swept away by a cold, unrelenting storm.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Joel finally said, the words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. He didn’t know what else to say, how to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

You looked up at him then, your eyes searching his, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of the connection you once had. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by something colder, something that made him feel as if the ground was slipping out from under him.

"No, you're not," you replied, your voice steady but edged with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. "You feel guilty."

Joel flinched at your words, but he couldn’t deny them. Guilt had been gnawing at him since the moment he had found you, bleeding and broken, on that floor. He had replayed every moment in his mind, every decision he had made, every step he had taken, wondering if there was something—anything—he could have done differently to prevent this.

"I do," he admitted, his voice raw. "I feel guilty because I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you. But I wasn’t, and you almost…"

He couldn’t finish the sentence, the thought of what could have happened too much to bear.

"But that’s not the same as being sorry," you said, your tone flat, as if you were trying to keep your emotions in check. "You’re not sorry that it happened; you’re just sorry that you feel this way."

Joel felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He had spent days agonizing over you, terrified of losing you, and now, faced with your coldness, he didn’t know what to do.

"I am sorry," he insisted, though even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t enough. It didn’t capture the depth of his regret, the overwhelming sorrow he felt for what you had gone through. "I’m sorry for all of it."

 “I know what Lori was doing,” you continued, your voice steady but laced with pain. “She wanted me gone, and it’s because of something you caused.”

Joel felt the weight of his guilt press down on him even harder. He had suspected Lori’s intentions, had seen the tension between the two of you, but he hadn’t fully understood the depth of her animosity. Now, hearing it from you, he realized just how much he had failed to protect you—not just physically, but emotionally as well.

“I never wanted you to get caught up in that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I… I didn’t see how far she’d go. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change what happened,” you replied, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. “I didn’t deserve to pay for your mistakes, Joel”

“Are you blaming me for this?” Joel asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and hurt. He didn’t want to let anger take over, but the disappointment and frustration were clear in his tone. He had come to terms with his own guilt, but hearing you lay the blame at his feet was like reopening a wound he thought he was beginning to heal.

You met his gaze, your eyes sharp with the pain of what you had endured. “I’m not blaming you for everything,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But I can’t ignore the fact that your choices put me in danger.

Joel’s expression softened, the weight of your words hitting him like a blow. He knew you were right, but hearing it from you, seeing the pain in your eyes, made it all the more real. “I never wanted you to get hurt,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “If I could take it all back, I would.”

“But you can’t,” you said, your voice firm despite the emotion in your eyes. “And now we’re here, dealing with the consequences.”

The room felt heavy with the tension between you, the silence stretching as both of you struggled to find the right words. Joel’s heart ached with the realization that no matter how much he wished he could go back and change things, the damage had been done.

“I didn’t deserve this, Joel,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of whatever you and Lori had going on. I was just… I was just trying to survive and help.”

Joel took a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to touch you, but he hesitated, unsure if you would welcome the gesture. “I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I know it’s going to take time for you to feel safe again.”

You looked at him, your heart conflicted. The fear of being hurt again loomed large, but there was also a part of you that wanted to believe him, to trust that he could be the man he promised to be.

“I’m tired” you said finally, your voice softer now.

Joel’s heart clenched at your words. The weariness in your voice was palpable, not just from the physical toll of your injuries but from the emotional exhaustion that had been building for so long. He could see it in your eyes, the way they held a mixture of pain, fear, and uncertainty.

“I know you are,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tired too.”

He wanted to close the distance between you, to offer some kind of comfort, but he knew that it wasn’t just physical closeness you needed. It was reassurance, a reason to believe that things could be different, that he could be different.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Joel continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were feeling. “But I’m here. I’ll stay right here, as long as you need just as I promise.”

You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made your heart ache, but the fear of letting him in again, of being vulnerable, was still there, holding you back.

Just as you were about to respond, the door creaked open, and Tommy stepped into the room, his presence a stark contrast to the heavy conversation that had just taken place. He glanced between you and Joel, sensing the tension in the air. His usually easygoing demeanor was replaced by a look of concern.

“Hey,” Tommy said softly, his voice breaking the silence. “How are you holding up?”

You offered him a weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m… I’m okay,” you replied, though the truth was far more complicated.

Tommy nodded, his gaze shifting to Joel. There was a silent exchange between the two brothers, a shared understanding that didn’t need words. Tommy could see the toll the past few days had taken on both of you, and he knew how much Joel was struggling to keep it together.

“I thought I’d bring you some food,” Tommy said, holding up a thermos. “Figured you could be hungry.”

Joel managed a small, grateful smile, though the weight of your conversation still hung heavy in the room. “Thanks,” he murmured, taking the tray from Tommy’s outstretched hand.

Tommy lingered for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you. “If you need anything… anything at all, just let me know, alright?”

You nodded, appreciating the offer but feeling too drained to respond with more than a simple acknowledgment.

Tommy hesitated, as if he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if it was his place. Finally, he clapped a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Take care of her,” he said quietly, the words carrying a deeper meaning than just a simple request.

Joel nodded, his grip tightening on the thermos. “I will,” he promised, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.

With one last look at you, Tommy turned and left the room, leaving you and Joel alone once more. The door closed softly behind him, and the silence that followed was almost deafening.

You glanced at Joel, the conflict in your heart still unresolved. His presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything that had happened, of the pain you were still trying to process.

“Thank you” you managed to say, “For looking for me that night.”

Joel's eyes softened at your words, though the tension in his shoulders remained. He nodded, the weight of the moment heavy between you. "I’d do it again," he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "A thousand times over if I had to."

You looked down, your fingers nervously picking at the blanket draped over you. "I know I was angry," you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. "And I still am, but… I also know you saved my life. I don’t want to ignore that."

He stepped closer, hesitating for just a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You don’t have to thank me," he said gently. "I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t come for you. You mean too much to me."

His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in them, but they also reminded you of the complicated feelings you were still trying to untangle. "I’m just… trying to figure out how to move forward from here," you confessed, meeting his gaze.

Joel reached out, his hand hovering over yours for a moment before he finally took it, his grip warm and reassuring. “You know, I spent the last days beside you all the time, hoping to see your eyes opening again, I can wait a little bit more for you.” He said, smiling softly at you.

Joel's words were like a balm to the ache in your heart, the sincerity in his smile melting some of the walls you'd built around yourself. His hand, warm and steady around yours, was a reminder of the care and dedication he had towards you.

A few days later, you were finally released from the infirmary, but Dr. Ramirez had been clear about the need to rest and take things slow. Your body was still recovering, and any strenuous activity could set you back. Joel had been by your side when Dr. Ramirez gave the instructions, and you could feel his protective gaze on you the entire time, as if he was silently vowing to ensure you followed every word.

Back at your house in Jackson, the atmosphere was different. The air felt lighter, more relaxed, but there was also an unspoken tension between you and Joel. The words you had exchanged in the infirmary still lingered, and both of you were treading carefully, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace that had settled.

As you settled into the couch, Joel was close by, hovering just enough to make sure you were comfortable but giving you space to breathe. His presence was comforting, yet it also reminded you of the complicated feelings you were still working through.

"Do you need anything?" Joel asked, his voice gentle as he watched you with concern.

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. "No, I’m okay. Just trying to adjust to being home again."

He nodded, his eyes softening as he took a seat on the chair across from you. "Take your time. You’ve been through a lot."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with the weight of unspoken thoughts. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, as if he was searching for something, waiting for you to say what was on your mind.

Finally, you broke the silence. "Joel… about what I said before, about trying to figure things out…"

He leaned forward slightly, his attention fully on you. "You don’t have to explain, sunshine. I get it. You’ve got a lot to process."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I do. But I want to ask you to do something.”

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "What is it?"

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continued. "I want you to talk to Lori."

The moment her name left your lips, you saw Joel’s expression darken, his posture stiffening. "Talk to Lori? After everything she did to you? Why the hell would I do that?"

You could hear the defensiveness in his voice, the way his jaw clenched as if he was trying to hold back a torrent of emotions.

"Joel, please," you said, your voice calm but firm. "I need you to do this for me. I’m not asking you toy forgive her or make excuses for what she did. It’s about getting closure.”

His eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind them. "Closure? How is talking to her going to give you closure? She nearly got you killed. I don’t want her anywhere near you."

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "I know you’re angry. I am too. But carrying this anger, this bitterness…but before you met me, she was the one you found- “

“It was nothing serious” he interrupted.

“Even if it was just that, Joel. She still deserves an apology from you.”

Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, the defensiveness in his posture only growing stronger. "An apology? After what she did to you, you want me to apologize to her?"

You nodded, your grip on his arm tightening slightly. "Yes, Joel. She made a terrible mistake, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hurt her too. She was in your life before I was, and even if it wasn’t serious, it clearly meant something to her. And when things ended between you two, it left her with feelings she didn’t know how to handle."

He looked away, his jaw clenching as he processed your words. "I never meant for any of this to happen," he muttered, the frustration evident in his voice.

"I know that," you replied softly. "But maybe that’s why it’s even more important that you talk to her. She made a mistake, a huge one, but she was reacting out of hurt and anger. And maybe, just maybe, hearing an apology from you could help her start to heal too."

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of him. He looked back at you, his expression conflicted. "I don’t know if I can do that," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "Apologizing… it feels like I’m excusing what she did, and I can’t do that."

Joel took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he nodded. "Alright," he finally said, his voice low. "I’ll talk to her. I’ll apologize. But I’m doing it for you, because I want to make things right with you."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Joel. That’s all I’m asking."

He reached out, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. "I just hope this helps us find some peace," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of hope. "Because I don’t want to lose you."

Joel wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with Lori, but he knew it was necessary. As he approached her in the stables, where she was tending to the horses, he felt the weight of what you’d asked him to do pressing on his shoulders. The earthy scent of hay and the soft sounds of the horses moving around only added to the heaviness in his chest. He took a deep breath and walked over; his steps heavy with uncertainty.

“Lori,” he called out softly, causing her to look up from grooming a horse. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of emotions flickering across her face as she saw him.

“Joel,” she replied, setting the brush down. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk,” he said, his voice steady but laced with tension. “About everything that happened.”

Lori’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was bracing herself for whatever he was about to say. “Go on, then.”

Joel hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I know things between us ended badly, and I never meant for you to get hurt. What happened with her… it’s not all your fault. I had a part in it too.”

Lori’s expression softened, a look of surprise crossing her features. “You’re apologizing?” she asked, almost as if she couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Joel admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I am. I messed up, and I didn’t see how much you were hurting until it was too late. I should have handled things better, and I’m sorry for the pain it caused you.”

Lori looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to gauge his sincerity. Finally, she let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I appreciate that, Joel,” she said quietly. “I’ve been carrying a lot of anger, and maybe… maybe I was looking for someone to blame. But hearing you say this… it helps.”

Joel nodded, relieved that the conversation seemed to be going in a positive direction. “I just want to put all this behind us,” he said. “For everyone’s sake.”

Lori stepped closer, her expression softening further. “I want that too,” she murmured, reaching up to touch his arm. “And… I’m sorry too, for everything.”

Before Joel could react, Lori leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. But the kiss lingered, her lips brushing dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. He stiffened, pulling back slightly, but not before the moment had passed.

“Lori…” he started, his voice filled with warning, but his words were cut off as he saw something behind her.

You stood at the entrance to the stables, your expression one of disappointment and hurt. You hadn’t meant to interrupt, but you’d come looking for Joel, wanting to check in on how the conversation was going. Instead, you found yourself witnessing a moment that twisted the knife in your heart.

Joel immediately took a step back from Lori, his eyes wide with panic as he realized you had seen the kiss. “It’s not what it looks like,” he called out, his voice desperate to reach you.

But you turned on your heel and walked away, the sting of what you’d just seen too much to bear. You didn’t want to hear his explanation; the image of Lori’s lips so close to his was enough to leave you feeling betrayed.

Joel cursed under his breath, quickly following after you, but the damage was done.

Joel raced after you, his heart pounding as he tried to close the distance. “Wait, please!” he called out, his voice echoing through the quiet of the stables and beyond.

You didn’t slow down, your steps quick and determined as you headed for the path leading away from the stables. The pain of what you’d seen burned too fiercely for you to face him right now. The image of Lori’s kiss and the confusion it brought was overwhelming.

Joel caught up to you, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “Just… just let me explain,” he said, his breath coming in heavy gasps. “I didn’t want her to do that, I swear.”

You pulled your arm away from him, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Joel, I’m tired of the explanations,” you said, your voice shaky. “Every time I try to trust you, something happens that makes me question it all over again. I need time to sort through all this, but I can’t do that if I’m constantly reminded of why I shouldn’t trust you.”

Joel looked at you with desperation and hurt, his eyes pleading. “I know I messed up, but I’m trying here. I really am. I wanted to make things right with Lori as you asked me, so we could move on, but I didn’t expect—”

“Expect what?” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. “Expect her to still have feelings for you? Or expect that you’d have to be in her presence and make her feel like she has a chance? It’s all too much.”

You paused, your voice breaking as the weight of everything you’d been feeling crashed over you. “That woman is crazy… she tried to kill me and I’m… I’m just so tired of all this, Joel. I can’t… I can’t keep dealing with this.”

The tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free, streaming down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. The emotional toll of the past few days had left you feeling utterly drained, and the sight of Joel and Lori together had pushed you to the edge.

Joel’s heart ached at the sight of you so distressed. Without a second thought, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of his own heartache. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“I want her to leave Jackson” you said.

Joel’s grip on you tightened at your words, his mind racing as he processed your request. “You want her to leave Jackson?” he repeated, his voice filled with surprise “I know things between us are… complicated right now, but asking her to leave—”

“It’s not  about me,” you interrupted, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “It’s about feeling safe. I can’t be here, knowing she’s so close. I need to know she’s not a threat anymore to me or anyone else.”

Joel took a deep breath, the weight of your request pressing heavily on him. He understood the need for safety, for closure, but he also knew that asking Lori to leave Jackson would have its own set of consequences.

“I’ll talk to Tommy,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I’ll see what can be done. If it’s what you need to feel safe, then I’ll make it happen.”

Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt.

Joel nodded; his expression resolute. “I understand. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re not left with that fear. You deserve peace, and I’m going to make sure you get it.”

The community meeting took place in the main hall, a space that had seen its share of important decisions and discussions over the years. Joel and Tommy, along with other key figures in Jackson, gathered to address the situation with Lori.

The room was filled with a murmur of conversations as people took their seats. The atmosphere was tense, a mix of concern and frustration hanging in the air. Joel stood near the front; his expression serious as he prepared to present the situation.

“Alright, folks,” Tommy began, stepping up to the makeshift podium. “We’re here to discuss the situation with Lori and decide on the next steps. We’ve heard from Joel, and we all know what’s been going on.”

Joel took a deep breath and began speaking. “I know this is a difficult situation. Lori’s actions have put everyone in a tough spot, and I understand that emotions are running high. I’ve spoken with her, and she’s expressed remorse, but the fact remains that her actions have put someone we care about in danger.”

He paused, looking around at the gathered community. “I’m asking for your input on what should be done. I know this isn’t an easy decision, but we need to ensure the safety and well-being of everyone in Jackson.”

The room fell silent as people considered their options. Various community members began to speak up, each sharing their thoughts and concerns. Some were in favor of asking Lori to leave Jackson, citing the need for safety and closure. Others worried about the implications of such a decision, considering her past contributions to the community and the potential impact on morale.

After a series of discussions and arguments, the group came to a consensus. The final vote was cast, and the majority agreed that Lori would need to leave Jackson. This decision was based on the overwhelming need to ensure the safety of the community and to address the trauma caused by her actions.

As the meeting concluded, the decision was communicated to Lori. She was given a set amount of time to pack her belongings and prepare to leave. The community had made its choice, and while it wasn’t easy, it was necessary for the greater good.

Joel and Tommy left the meeting feeling a mix of relief and sadness. They knew it was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made for the sake of the community’s well-being and your peace of mind.

After the meeting, Joel went to find Lori. He found her packing her things in a small room, her movements mechanical as she sorted through her belongings. The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of her clothes and a few muffled sobs.

“Lori,” Joel said gently as he approached her.

Lori looked up, her face a mask of resignation and pain. “So, it’s really happening,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m leaving.”

Joel nodded; his expression somber. “Yeah. The community decided it was the best thing to do. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but it’s what needed to happen.”

Lori’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just… I wanted to protect myself, and it spiraled out of control. I’m sorry.”

Joel sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “I know you’re sorry. And I understand why you acted the way you did, even if it was wrong. I just hope you can find a way to make things right for yourself.”

Lori gave a small, bitter laugh. “I don’t know if I can. But I guess I’ll have to try.”

Joel glanced around the room, unsure of what more to say. “If you need any help getting ready or finding somewhere to go, let me know. I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be.”

Lori nodded, wiping her tears away. “Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

With a final look at Lori, Joel turned and walked away, his heart heavy. He found Tommy waiting outside the room, and together they made their way to the main area of Jackson.

As Joel walked through the community, he saw people going about their daily routines, the weight of the decision beginning to settle in. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. The decision to expel Lori had been necessary, but it left a lingering discomfort in the air.

When he finally found you, sitting in a quiet corner of the community center, he approached with a cautious but hopeful expression. “Hey,” he said softly, sitting down beside you. “I wanted to let you know that Lori’s getting ready to leave. It’s happening, just like we talked about.”

You looked at him, the strain of the past few days still evident in your eyes. “Okay,” you said quietly. “I just… I hope she can find peace or whatever she’s looking for.”

Joel reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I hope so too. And I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’m here. We’ll get through this together.”

You stood up abruptly, your hand slipping from Joel’s grasp. “I promised Maria, I’d help her with something,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of determination and avoidance. “I should go now.”

Joel’s gaze followed you, his concern evident. “Wait, hold on. I know you’re trying to distance yourself again,” he said, his voice a mix of frustration and pleading. “We can talk this out. I thought we were making progress.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “I just… I need some space right now. There’s a lot to process, and I don’t want to keep having these conversations when I’m not ready. I’m trying to figure things out, and it’s hard to do that with everything so fresh.”

Joel’s expression softened, a mix of understanding and hurt crossing his face. “I get it. I really do. But shutting me out won’t make things easier. I want to be here for you, to help you through this. Running away from me or pushing me away won’t solve anything.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. “I’m-I’m not running away from you, Joel.”

Joel stepped closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I’m not trying to complicate things. I just want to be part of the solution, not the problem. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. But please, don’t shut me out completely. I care too much to let you go through this alone.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your resolve waver. “I appreciate that, Joel. But I need to go”

Joel’s expression hardened, though his eyes still held a flicker of hurt. “Okay,” he said, his tone sharper than before. “If that’s what you need, I’ll back off.”

You could feel the sting of his words, a mix of anger and resignation in his voice. You nodded, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you for understanding.”

As you turned to leave, Joel’s gaze followed you, a mixture of frustration and sadness etched on his face. The conversation had left both of you in a raw, vulnerable state, and the air between you was heavy with unresolved emotions.

As night settled over Jackson, the streets grew quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. You wandered aimlessly, torn between the invitation from Tommy and Maria and the thought of returning to your own space. The uncertainty of your feelings and the tension with Joel weighed heavily on your mind.

Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned to see Joel walking towards you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. The spark of his brown eyes seemed to cast a glow under the lights, and your breath got stuck in your throat.

Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned to see Joel walking towards you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. The spark of his brown eyes seemed to cast a glow under the lights, and your breath got stuck in your throat.

“Are you going to Tommy’s?” Joel asked, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness.

You nodded slowly. “I don’t know.”

“Why?” Joel asked, his tone sharp. “Because I’m going?”

His question hung in the air, charged with the tension between you. You could see the frustration and hurt etched on his face, and it made you realize how deeply conflicted he was.

“No,” you said quietly, though the weight of your uncertainty was clear. “I just... I need to figure things out.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, his frustration boiling over. “Figure things out? You know, every time I try to make things right, it feels like I’m just making them worse.”

“It’s not just about you,” you said, trying to hold back the tears. “It’s about me, too. I need to figure out what I want.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, his gaze shifting away for a moment. “I get that you need space, but it feels like you’re avoiding me, avoiding what’s between us.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” you replied, your voice cracking.

Joel’s eyes softened slightly, though the hurt was still evident. “Look, if you want to go to Tommy’s, then go. But don’t use it as an excuse to push me away. I’m here, and I’m trying to be part of this, part of us.”

Joel’s frustration reached a boiling point as he shouted, “Every time we made progress, you just pushed it all away because you’re afraid! You’re acting like a coward!”

You flinched at his raised voice, your own emotions bubbling to the surface. “Why? For protecting myself from you?” you snapped back, feeling the sting of his words.

Joel’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desperation. “Oh my god! What do you want me to do? You almost died, I could die, and you’re putting all of this on hold because you’re scared instead?” His voice was strained, almost out of breath.

You felt a sharp pang of hurt at his accusation. “Well, that’s one person less to cry over for you,” you shot back, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into your tone.

Joel’s face darkened with anger and frustration. “You’re a fucking— I’m done.” His words were cut short as he struggled to control his emotions.

The anger in Joel’s voice only made you cry harder, the tears flowing freely now. “You don’t understand,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “I love you, Joel. I really do, so much. But everything always ends with me in the dark, sobbing all alone because people I love leave or die and I don’t want you to die.”

Joel’s face softened at your tears, his anger melting away into a pained expression. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he wiped away a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry, sunshine,” he said, his voice breaking.

"I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you, and I won't die for you. I'll live for you, I'll carry all for you," he said, his voice full of raw emotion.

"Joel..." you started, but your words faltered, lost in the storm of feelings between you.

"Listen to me, you will never be alone again," he reassured, his voice filled with a desperate promise.

You didn't answer, just looking down at your boots, feeling Joel’s gaze burning with sadness and fury, a mix of emotions that felt like daggers dressed in words.

Joel sighed, hopelessness dripping from his voice. "Okay." He said, giving up on you.

"I fell in love with Joel who was charismatic and kind, the one I know you're capable of being but hide because you’re afraid of seeing those colors in yourself again," you said softly. "And I even love the grumpy one a bit, but—"

"But?" Joel prompted, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Please don’t—"

"I love you so much, and I want to say sorry for not realizing before," he said, the confession slipping out as you looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your cheek. “I love you” he repeated, “and I want to be the man you fell in love with. I want to be the one who can stand beside you, not just in the good times, but in the hard ones too.”

You looked everywhere but him, not uttering a word. Joel’s expression shifted from frustration to resignation as he began to turn away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Just as he was about to step back, feeling the cold sting of the night air, you made a sudden, impulsive move. Without thinking, you reached out and closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a fierce, desperate kiss.

The shock of the kiss jolted Joel into stillness. For a moment, he stood there, frozen, as if trying to process what was happening. But then, the tension in his body melted away, and he responded with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around you tightly. The kiss was a blend of longing, frustration, and the deep love that had been building between you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, the raw intensity of the moment lingering in the air. Joel’s eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of surprise and hope.

"I promise I won't forget this kiss," you said softly, recalling the meaning behind that statement

Joel’s eyes softened as he gazed at you with intensity and desire. “You’re coming home with me,” he said firmly, leaning in and kissing you again.

Once he finally managed to unlock the door of his house, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the warmth and familiarity of his home wrapping around you.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Joel turned to face you, his expression soft and filled with a deep, lingering emotion. Without a word, he took your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the last of your tears. Then, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours once more, this kiss tender and filled with all the words he couldn’t quite say.

You responded, your arms winding around his neck as you melted into the kiss. It was a kiss of promises and newfound hope, a kiss that spoke of the love you shared and the future you were ready to face together. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a contented smile on Joel’s lips.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”

You smiled; your heart full. “I’ve missed you too, Joel. More than you know.”

Joel's smile lingered for just a moment before he leaned in once more, capturing your lips with his. You responded eagerly, your arms tightening around his neck as you lost yourself in the moment.

Soon the both of you were inside Joel’s bedroom, you laying on your back with him on top. Your shirt was on the floor, along with his shirt and jeans. You felt a sudden warmth spreading up on your cheeks at the thought of your fresh scar resting on your abdomen.

Joel looked at you with concern as he followed your gaze. His eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over the scar as if to trace the memories you had built.

“You know,” he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth, “this scar doesn’t change a thing about how I see you. You’re absolutely perfect to me, just the way you are.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling at his words. Despite the physical reminder of what you’d been through, his reassurance made you feel cherished and beautiful. His gaze was unwavering, filled with a deep, genuine affection that made the pain of the past seem a little less sharp.

Joel's eyes met yours again, full of tenderness. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here, stronger than ever.”

You smiled softly, touched by his words. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, placing kisses on your cheeks, slowly moving down your neck, your chest, finally reaching the scar, planting a kiss over it.

You felt treasured. Your nipples were hard and begging to be brushed, something Joel was aware of since he needed you all over again. He shortly sucked on a nipple, arching your back and grasping your tights with his own. The lust had completely taken control of you, and now every part of you yearned his touch.

Joel pulled his mouth away to look at you, raising his palm to trace your face with his thumb.  "I love you," he kissed your forehead then your cheek. "I love you," he whispered, kissing both your lips and neck.

"And I love you too." You whispered, and a smile spread across your face as you took a look of him. “Now can you please finish what you started or I swear- “

Your words were cut by Joel taking your lips on his mouth again, muttering “I love you” again, before pulling your jeans down as you did the same with his.

He pushed your thighs apart and stepped between them while slowly guiding himself inside you. The feeling of fullness and stretch were both familiar and foreign. You hadn’t had him in weeks that turned into months, and now he felt massive. When he was all the way inside, a heavy groan got stuck in his throat as he pressed his forehead against yours, his mouth hung open and his face twisted.

"God, you feel so good," he gasped. "I could just come right now."

Your laughter rang through your chest as he moved. The consuming pleasure made you both tremble. Then he increased up the pace and rammed quicker. He was thrilled, and he could feel himself becoming thicker and fuller inside you. You were struggling to breathe, but your hips were bucking to encourage him to move quicker. And so, he did, providing you precisely what you asked for.

He moved one hand down to your hip, his head leaning forward to grasp your lips in a passionate kiss as he pounded harder toward the orgasm. You could feel the heat spread throughout your body like a blaze, and his finger toyed with your clit, heightening the pleasure on your body. Your eyes began to flutter, and your nails scratched down his back. Joel bit your neck, hearing filthy moans escaping your lips as he felt himself reaching the edge. Soon, your head felt back, and a loud groan erupted from your mouth as the two of you reached your release.

Your entire body went numb as Joel lay down next to you.

“I don’t want to move.” You spoke, unable to move. 

his warmth radiating through the space between you. As you lay there, unable to move, he settled down next to you with a relaxed, contented smile.

“Don’t worry about moving,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “We can just stay here, right where we are. No need to rush or do anything.”

His hand found yours, fingers lacing with yours in a gentle, reassuring grip. He adjusted his position so he was facing you, his smile never fading.

You glanced at him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. He leaned down to kiss you. Joel’s lips brushed against yours with a tender, lingering kiss, conveying all the love and reassurance he felt for you.

Joel’s lips lingered on yours for a moment longer before he pulled back, his gaze soft and caring. “Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern and tenderness.

You nodded, the aftermath exhaustion finally catching up with you. Joel’s smile grew as he gently kissed your forehead. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable.”

He carefully slipped out of bed and retrieved a soft t-shirt from his drawer. He helped you change into it, his touch tender and careful. Once you were settled, he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bed.

With a practiced ease, Joel placed you gently under the covers, ensuring you were tucked in warmly. He then slid in beside you, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

He looked at you with a mix of love and concern. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

You snuggled into the warmth and comfort of the bed, feeling secure with Joel beside you.

The morning light crept softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke before Joel, the stillness of the room only adding to the quiet tension you felt. As you lay there, you couldn’t shake the lingering fear from the last time you had been so close to him. The thought that he might wake up and not remember you again, or that things might somehow go back to the way they were, gnawed at you.

You turned your head to watch Joel sleep, his features relaxed and peaceful. His breathing was steady, and the sight of him lying there, so calm and content, was both comforting and nerve-wracking. The fear of losing this moment, of it slipping away like before, was overwhelming.

Joel stirred slightly, a soft groan escaping his lips as he slowly began to wake. His eyes fluttered open, and for a few seconds, he looked at you with a mixture of confusion and grogginess. Your heart raced, the fear of seeing him slip back into a disconnected state making your breath catch in your throat.

But then, as his eyes fully opened and he focused on you, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

I tagged everyone interested in more parts or or the ones who commented, but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed (again) if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me. I tried to add everyone but I don't know If I did.

💌 tags: @dreamtofus @paperstarzzz @chewie-bars @hotleaf-juice

@riedswifts @dizzyforyou @prideandaesthetic @chateaujoon

@18dmlk @orcasoul @whirlwindrider29 @frogjumps-world @camy-nyancat @sarahhxx03 @jasminedragoon @cuteanimalmama @eleganthottubfun @skysmiller @nana90azevedo @astralqueenoc

@missladym1981 @persephone-girl @darka-moon @beltzboys2015-blog @sptbear @joelsteinfeld @astralqueenoc @bishtrouille

@locaparapedrito @wolfbook87 @picketniffler @axelspin @pedrotease @riedswifts @mclibs23 @feliciab1990 @swornkisses @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kirsteng42 @lostfleurs @guelyury @devonispunk @harriedandharassed @wolfbook87 @niffala @animechik555 @gypsystarchaser42 @geralallfandoms @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @goodvibesonly421 @negansbestie @bambisweethearts @jessthebaker @tuquoquebrute

[peppermint-whiskers]

Introducing:

An au by myself and @emositecc (all artwork here done by her, btw! 💖💖)

Premise: Because snake forms aren't common in Heaven, Pentious has to change forms per Sera’s orders in order to not make waves. At the same time, she places a spell on him that prevents him from speaking about who he was before and his time in Hell. Using the nickname Pen, he's sent down to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption, acting as the representative. While there, he has a lot of trouble reconnecting because of the spell and because of the weird deja vu the others get whenever he's around. It also doesn't help that they're still mourning Pentious—he can't tell them that he's okay and that redemption works.

He does succeed in reconnecting with them, but only as “Pen.”

It'll be done in 3 acts:

Act 1: Reconnection

Sir Pentious, under the alias Pen, is sent to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption. There, he struggles to reconnect with his friends, who are still mourning his supposed "death."

Act 2: Mind Wipe

After a disasterous event caused by Alastor, Pentious begs Sera to wipe his memories of his life before as it's the only way he can think of to ease the pain. This works for only a while, and the confusion between his two forms makes him restless. Emily smuggles him back to Hell to help him regain his memories.

Act 3: Consequences

After resolving the mind wipe, Sera realizes the error of her actions and tries in earnest to help Charlie's hotel with redemption. However, the reveal of the mind wipe and redemption causes waves in both Heaven and Hell.

Some artwork and snippets (written by me) under the cut!

No spoilers yet, obviously uwu

Snippet 1:

“The envoy is supposed to come today!” Charlie exclaimed, positively bouncing around the hotel lobby. “I'm sooooo excited! What do you think they'll be like??”

“Sexy,” Angel immediately said with his usual teasing tone.

“Respectful,” Vaggie sighed. After failed extermination, they've had countless meetings with Heaven, and the head seraphim has been . . . less than helpful. As much as she hated to admit it, dealing with Emily was much preferred to dealing with Sera.

“I just hope you know what you're doing,” Husk chimed in. “Inviting an angel to stay longterm here could be dangerous.”

“It’ll be fine,” Charlie assured them. “We'll keep them safe, and they'll help us with redemption! It's a win-win!”

A circular portal opened up just outside the hotel. Squealing with joy, Charlie rushed outside to meet their newest friend and staff member. Out stepped a tall gentleman with dark skin, white hair, and a pale blue suit. His eyes seemed to look over the hotel with nostalgia—Charlie would bet anything that in life, he was a hotel manager himself. That would be just perfect! She could use a little more help than Alastor deigned to provide.

Snippet 2

Their new guest wasn't doing so well. Somehow, through fake coughs and weak insistence, Pen managed to convince Charlie that he didn't need to come out of his room, thank you very much. Charlie wasn't dumb, of course, and her sympathetic nature was just one of the many reasons Vaggie loved her. Instead of pressing the issue, she let Pen stay in his room for the day and let him continue claiming he was sick.

He may have convinced the others, but Charlie and Vaggie both knew better. Angels couldn't get sick, but this was one hell of a bout of homesickness.

Charlie herself brought meals up to his room and coaxed him to eat, and Vaggie went when she was busy, but he never once opened the door. After two days of this, Vaggie finally took it upon herself to see him herself and get to the bottom of this. Breakfast in hand, she headed up the stairs and prepared herself for a battle of wills of which she was sure she would win.

[chocostrwberry]

Does the Re verse/shady bug and claw noir AU exist in This AU? It would be cool seeing betterfly/hesperia interacting with a post season 2 Chat Noir or Post Finale Chat Noir interacting with Shadybug since she still exists in her universe, etc and etc. Lol!!!!!!!!

NOOO NOT IN THIS AU,,

But here’s the designs for them if they existed in my AU!!

I wanted to play with the “good and bad luck” aspect. Reverse Marinette struggled with bad luck, and Reverse Adrien had good luck UNTIL they got their miraculous!!

Reverse Marinette is a bullied teen who’s life is pretty bad. Her mom’s bakery is going under, her dad is sick need to pay medical bills, everyone at her regular public school thinks she’s creepy and dirty so she has no friends, and life seems to always go out of its way to make her miserable. She has a massive crush on Adrien, even though she has caught him multiple times throwing away her anonymous love letters. (He KNOWS they’re from her and he finds her obsessive and a loser).

As Shadybug, she takes out her emotions and anger on innocent Parisians. She loves feeling like she has control over her life and actions, and making others feel the same way she does: fearful. She terrorizes alongside Claw Noir, who always has an idea on how to make something go from bad to worse. But she finds his doting cringe and desperate.

Reverse Adrien is the wonder boy who never seems to get what’s coming to him! He’s figured out that no matter what he does, for some unnatural reason, he seems to never face any real consequences. You could say he’s been “spoiled by life”. After receiving the cat miraculous, he can’t act out nearly as much anymore because for the first time, he now knows what it’s like to face the results of his actions (detention, suspension, grounding, etc.) and he lowkey HATES it. Even though he likes being Claw Noir at times, he argues that the cat miraculous ruined his life.

When he becomes Claw Noir he channels his destructive tendencies towards Paris, while fighting the akumas that Betterfly throws at them. Unknown to anyone, his favorite part is being defeated, which means it’s the end of the game. The Bonnie to his Clyde, Shadybug’s unsympathetic and sadistic attitude is the kind of girl Claw Noir likes best, so he does whatever she asks him to in the name of love.

[transform4u]

Born Proud on the 4th of July-500 Follower Story

Milo Higgins stood tall and broad-shouldered in his backyard, a picture of American pride and muscle. His olive-drab t-shirt strained against his chest, showcasing his rugged physique honed by years of military training. The yard was a sea of American flags fluttering in the summer breeze, interspersed with military memorabilia and a meticulously maintained home gym in one corner.

As the football game blared from the outdoor television, Milo hollered over his shoulder, "Suzie, bring me another beer and some wings!" His voice carried a gruff authority, a remnant of his military command style. He believed in traditional roles, firmly believing women belonged in the kitchen and that his word was law in his domain.

His routine was disciplined and intense. He woke at dawn for his military-style workouts: push-ups, pull-ups, and weights, all executed with a grim determination. His evenings were spent watching football, wrestling, and Fox News, occasionally barking orders to Suzie or grumbling about politics.

Today was special—a Fourth of July party for his military buddies and their families. The guests began to arrive, a mix of fellow servicemen and their children. Among them was Julio, Suzie's best gay friend and Milo's least favorite person on Earth. Julio, always impeccably dressed and effortlessly charming, greeted Suzie with a warm hug.

"Hey Suzie, you look amazing!" Julio said with a wide smile.

"Thanks, Julio! So glad you could make it," Suzie replied warmly. She turned to Milo, gesturing towards Julio. "Milo, this is Julio."

Milo glanced at Julio with thinly veiled disdain before muttering, "Hey," and quickly walking away towards the grill where he flipped a few burgers with unnecessary force.

Julio followed him, undeterred by Milo's cold reception. "Hey, Milo, happy Fourth! Thanks for having me over."

Milo grunted in response, not making eye contact as he adjusted the heat on the grill.

Julio persisted, maintaining his congenial demeanor. "You know, Suzie talks so highly of you. It's great to finally meet you."

Milo turned abruptly, fixing Julio with a steely glare. "Listen, Julio. I don't need you putting ideas in Suzie's head, you hear me? She's my wife, and what she thinks ain't your concern."

Julio raised his hands placatingly. "Hey, man, I'm just here to celebrate, like everyone else. No worries."

Milo's jaw clenched, his dislike for Julio simmering just below the surface. "Just watch yourself," he warned, before turning back to the grill, effectively ending the conversation.

Julio's face fell as Milo launched into a tirade, his words stinging like a slap. "Listen here, you little punk. I don't care what you think about me or my wife. Just keep your filthy mouth shut and stay away from her. You're nothing but a damn faggot, Julio! And your woke politics can go straight to hell. This country was built on traditional values, not your queer ideals. And don't even get me started on how much of a hypocrite you are. You come into our home acting like some kind of saint when really you just want to corrupt my wife with your perverted lifestyle."

He couldn't believe the man was so narrow-minded and hateful. Suzie had always spoken highly of him, but it seemed she was married to someone who couldn't accept the truth about people or their relationships.

As Julio tried to gather his thoughts, he glanced over at Suzie, hoping for some sort of support or understanding from her. But she just looked uncomfortable and embarrassed by her husband's outburst. It hurt Julio to see her like that; he knew how much she loved Milo despite his flaws.

Taking a deep breath, Julio decided it was time for action. He wouldn't let Milo get away with this kind of behavior without consequence—not if it meant hurting Suzie in the process.

Julio sighed inwardly but plastered on a smile as he rejoined Suzie and their friends, determined not to let Milo's hostility ruin the festive atmosphere.

Neither Milo nor Suzie knew that Julio practiced brujería, a tradition steeped in mysticism and rituals. Julio, despite his charming exterior, had a deep knowledge of spells and hexes passed down through generations of his family in Mexico. Among his abilities was the art of cursing objects, infusing them with intentions and consequences.

As the Fourth of July party continued, Julio spotted Milo at the grill, his usual stern expression etched on his face.

Julio, frustrated with Milo's dismissive attitude and simmering hostility towards him, decided to take matters into his own hands. He knew he had the power to influence outcomes through brujería, and with a mix of irritation and determination, he focused his energy on the bottle of beer in his hand. Under his breath, Julio muttered an incantation, his eyes briefly glowing with a faint, otherworldly light:

"Por los poderes de la luna y el fuego, Transformo esta cerveza en un maleficio. Que el odio y el desprecio de este hombre hacia los gays, Se vuelva en su contra como una maldición.

Con cada sorbo de esta bebida, Su masculinidad tóxica se desvanece. Se transformará en lo que más desprecia, Un estereotipo gay que lo abochornará."

With a subtle wave of his hand, Julio completed the enchantment and then approached Milo, offering the beer with an inscrutable smile.

"Hey, Milo," Julio greeted with a disarming smile, holding out the beer. "I brought this from my hometown in Mexico. It's one of the best beers you'll ever taste."

Milo looked at the bottle skeptically. "I don't know, Julio. I'm not really into Mexican beers. Today's about celebrating America, you know?"

Julio's eyes glinted momentarily as he maintained his pleasant demeanor. "Come on, just try it. It's a gesture of peace between us."

Milo hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright, fine. But just this once." He took the bottle from Julio's hand and popped the cap, taking a long swig.

As the cold beer flowed down his throat, Milo felt a strange sensation. He coughed suddenly, suds spilling over his lips and onto his shirt. Julio watched closely, concealing a small smile as he subtly chanted under his breath:

Milo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unaware of the subtle changes beginning to take place within him. A warmth spread through his chest, and an inexplicable feeling of lightness replaced his usual heaviness.

"What did you put in this beer, Julio?" Milo asked gruffly, his voice sounding slightly different, softer.

Julio chuckled lightly. "Just some magic from my homeland. Enjoy it."

Milo frowned, feeling strangely vulnerable yet oddly at ease. He glanced down at his beer-stained shirt and then back at Julio, who was still smiling warmly. The party continued around them, unaware of the subtle transformation unfolding within Milo Higgins, the patriotic soldier who suddenly found himself questioning the very ideals he had staunchly upheld.

Milo Higgins felt an intense heat surge through his body, as if an internal inferno had been ignited. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced—his muscles, once rippling and defined, now pulsed and trembled. His biceps, which had strained against his olive t-shirt, began to shrink, losing their mass and definition. His abs, once a symbol of his strength, softened and became less pronounced. Even his pecs, once proud and prominent, faded away under his shirt. His legs, accustomed to carrying his imposing frame, lost their bulk and power.

Panic gripped Milo as he felt himself getting weaker and weaker. He looked down at his hands, which seemed smaller and more delicate. He felt a strange sensation of shrinking, inch by inch. At 6'3", he had always towered over others with a commanding presence. Now, as he shrunk, inch by inch, fear washed over him. At 5'4", he looked around in horror at the people around him, who suddenly seemed taller and more imposing.

The beer can slipped from his weakening grip, clattering to the ground. Milo stumbled towards Julio, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. "Wha… what did you do to me, you freak?" His Adam's apple shrank, and his voice emerged with a distinct effeminate lisp, each syllable peppered with uncertainty. "Wha's wrong with my voice?"

Julio met Milo's panicked gaze with a coy, sinister smile. "Oh, nothin' Miley," he replied casually, drawing out Milo's new name with deliberate playfulness. "Just thought you needed a taste of your own medicine."

Milo's hands shook as he touched his softer, smaller features, a mixture of disbelief and horror etched across his face. His mind raced with questions and fears about what had happened to him. The once imposing soldier now stood before Julio, diminished and vulnerable, his identity and masculinity in flux.

Milo screamed, "No, no, no! You have to thtop thith! Where are my muthtcles? What'th happening to me?"

Julio smiled maliciously. "Hush now, little guy. You won't have to worry much longer. The mental changes will soon make you exactly what you hate—exactly what you made fun of in the past. Now, I'm not sure what exactly you'll become. Your own mind will take you down that row. But it seems like you think---or thought, that all gay men are whiny, short effeminate little twinks. How fun" But the time you're doing you'll be---" He leaned in close and whispered menacingly, "The perfect gay."

Milo tried desperately to resist but couldn't shake the feeling that his own mind was taking him down a path he never wanted to go on. The changes were becoming more apparent, he realized that Julio had been right all along—he was becoming everything he had once despised.

As Milo Higgins stood there, his mind began to undergo an even more profound change. It was as if a bright light bulb in his head, not that it was ever very bright to begin with, was gradually dimming. The thoughts and memories that once defined him—anger, resentment, and a rigid adherence to stereotypes—started to shift and rearrange themselves.

Milo's face contorted in confusion and fear as Julio spoke. "Twinks? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know, Milo. The young, slender gay men who act very feminine and are often seen as objects of desire by older men." Julio grinned maliciously. "It seems like your own mind is going to turn you into the very thing you despise most."

Milo stared at Julio in horror, his body trembling with fear and uncertainty. He couldn't believe what was happening to him—or that he was even considering becoming something he had always despised so much.

Gone were the memories of military service, where he had prided himself on his strength and loyalty to his country. The camaraderie of college football days faded into the background, replaced by new memories and experiences that began to flood his consciousness.

Instead, Milo found himself recalling moments of activism and protest, standing up against unjust wars and marching alongside women and LGBTQ+ communities for their rights. He remembered the exhilaration of going to school for art, where creativity and expression took precedence over conformity. Acting in community theater brought him a sense of fulfillment he had never felt before, a stage where he could explore different identities and emotions.

Singing show tunes with his bestie Suzie and Julio replaced nights out with his former buddies, where they would rate women and boast about conquests. Drag race, musical theatre,

As Milo's mind rewired itself, he began to feel a newfound openness and acceptance. The rigid boundaries of his previous beliefs dissolved, replaced by a curiosity and empathy for others. He felt a stirring of attraction towards Julio, mixed with admiration for the confidence and courage it took to confront him.

As Milo's mind rewired itself, he began to feel a newfound openness and acceptance. The rigid boundaries of his previous beliefs dissolved, replaced by a curiosity and empathy for others. He felt a stirring of attraction towards Julio, mixed with admiration for the confidence and courage it took to confront him.

Milo's head spun as he noticed all the men around him—their muscles straining against their shirts, sweat glistening off their hot bodies. His straight self seemed to dissolve before his eyes; women suddenly seemed icky and gross compared to these strong, virile men. A lust built up within him as an emptiness crept throughout his big bubble butt—he needed to be filled by one of these sexy straight men!

The straight men around them began teasing Milo playfully now that they realized how turned on he was by them. They called him names like "sissy" and "faggot," laughing with Julio as they watched Milo blush in embarrassment. But the embarrassment only seemed to turn Milo on further; his dick started to get hard, leaking precum as he watched the muscular military men flirt with him shamelessly.

Julio quickly grabbed Milo's hand. Julio's touch on Milo's hand was electric, sending a jolt through Milo's body as he blinked in confusion. Suddenly, they were no longer in Milo's familiar Patriotic Pad of the Patriarchy. The surroundings shifted around them, and Milo's eyes widened in disbelief as American flags morphed into rainbow flags that fluttered proudly in the air.

They found themselves in the midst of a bustling gay nightclub, pulsating with vibrant music and colorful lights. Milo stood there, momentarily stunned, as the atmosphere enveloped him. The air was alive with laughter, dancing bodies, and an undeniable sense of freedom.

For a moment, Milo's thoughts flickered to Suzie, his blonde wife, and the plans they had for the Fourth of July party. But those thoughts quickly dissolved amidst the energy of the nightclub. He felt a surge of excitement and liberation that he had never experienced before.

As Milo looked around, he noticed people of all shapes, sizes, and genders embracing who they were without fear or shame. He saw barely dressed twunks with their abs on display; cute twinks flirting shamelessly with muscle bears; daddies in leather trying to score with hot muscular men in jockstraps. A lust burned within him—a horniness that couldn't be contained any longer. He always thought gay men were just horny sexual deviants looking for sex at every turn...and that's exactly what he was becoming.

He started to move with the music, his body swaying instinctively to the beat. A smile tugged at his lips as he let go of inhibitions he never knew he had. His movements became fluid, graceful, and filled with a newfound confidence.

Milo's demeanor shifted dramatically. He felt a surge of expressiveness and flamboyance bubbling up from within. His voice, once gruff and commanding, softened into a melodious lilt as he engaged in conversations filled with laughter and camaraderie.

Gone was the rigid masculinity and narrow-mindedness. In its place, Milo embraced his love for theatre and the arts with an enthusiasm that surprised even himself. He found joy in discussing plays, musicals, and the latest performances in town. His gestures became animated, his laughter infectious as he connected with others who shared his passions.

Milo's eyes sparkled with a mixture of wonder and excitement as he realized he was becoming the very stereotype he once dismissed—a cute, bubbly, theatre-loving, liberal twink. As Milo looked down at himself, he gasped in disbelief. His attire had transformed into cute booty shorts that accentuated his toned legs and a colorful tank top that hugged his newly slender frame. His face seemed to lose any hint of sharpness, aging backwards in time. The years dissolved before his eyes, smoothing out wrinkles and refining features into something more youthful and boyishly charming. His hair darkened and grew unruly, framing his face in a way that accentuated its newfound softness. His once rugged face seemed to soften before his eyes, losing any harsh edges as if time itself was rewinding.

His blonde hair darkened to a rich brown and grew unruly, framing his face in tousled curls that added to his youthful appearance. Milo's features became smoother, his jawline more delicate, and a deep brown tan spread across his skin, giving him a radiant glow.

In this moment of transformation, Milo's old name seemed to evaporate into the air, replaced by a new name that echoed through his consciousness—Ishaq. A deep, bronzed tan spread across Milo's skin, giving him a healthy glow that seemed to radiate from within. Memories flooded Ishaq's mind—days of arriving in America as an immigrant, navigating a new culture with broken English and a charming lisp.

Ishaq was proud of his Middle Eastern heritage, and his newfound identity as a cute, bubbly, theatre-loving, liberal twink felt both exhilarating and liberating. He embraced his sexuality and his cultural roots with equal fervor, a proud expression of who he was meant to be.

Beside him, Julio danced with infectious energy, their movements synchronized in perfect harmony. Ishaq wore a cute and flashy outfit that shimmered under the nightclub lights—a sequined jacket adorned with colorful patterns, fitted jeans that hugged his curves, and stylish sneakers that completed his ensemble.

In the midst of the music and laughter, Ishaq reveled in the freedom to express himself authentically. He twirled and spun with Julio, their laughter ringing out like a chorus of acceptance and love. For Ishaq, this moment was not just about embracing his new identity—it was about celebrating life, love, and the beauty of being true to oneself.

The nightclub throbbed with pulsing lights and a bass-heavy beat as Julio and Ishaq moved gracefully across the dance floor. Ishaq's outfit, adorned with sequins that caught the strobe lights, shimmered with every step he took. His Middle Eastern accent and gentle lisp were evident as he spoke passionately to Julio.

Ishaq leaned in close over the music, his eyes bright with excitement. "Oh, Julio, darling, do you thee how fabulouth thith night ith? The vibe, the freedom... it'th all tho ex-hil-arating!"

Julio grinned, matching Ishaq's enthusiasm. "You're right, Ishaq! You always bring such energy to the club. By the way, who's your ultimate drag queen from Drag Race?"

Ishaq's face lit up, his hands gesturing animatedly. "Oh, hon-they, it hath to be Sasha Velour! Thhe's tho creative and revolutionary, and her lip thyncheth are pure art!"

As they danced, the DJ seamlessly transitioned into a playlist of pop hits. Suddenly, the familiar beats of Beyoncé's "Single Ladies" filled the air. Ishaq gasped in excitement and turned to Julio, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh my God, Julio, thith ith my jam!"

Ishaq pulled Julio closer, their bodies moving effortlessly together to the infectious rhythm. In the midst of the pulsating music and swirling lights, Ishaq gazed deeply into Julio's eyes. "Julio, you know what? I can't help but thay it... you're the cuteth thing I've ever theen."

As the night progresses, Julio and Ishaq's flirtation escalates into something more. They begin to make out passionately, their tongues dancing in each other's mouths. Ishaq whimpers and begs Julio to take him, his eyes filled with desire. Julio smirks, knowing he has complete control over the situation.

Without hesitation, they rush towards the bathroom where they lock themselves inside. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoes through the walls as they lose themselves in their lustful desires. Ishaq moans loudly as Julio takes him from behind, pounding into his tight hole with unbridled force. He screams out "Yassss daddy!" begging for more of this rough treatment from his new lover.

When they finally reach climax together it's like an explosion - both men crying out in ecstasy at being so deeply connected physically and emotionally at this moment in time . After coming down off their high, Julio tosses a wad of cash at an exhausted looking but satisfied Ishaq saying "You were worth every penny boy ,I'll be sure tell my friends about your services." With that said, Ishaq forgets about being friends with Julio anymore .He was just another gay whore now who happened to have given him pleasure earlier tonight .

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Alicent Hightower X Prostitute!Reader: Secret touches

Warnings: smut, oral ( f receiving), face sitting, Alicent being kind off inexperienced, female anatomy, female reader, no use of y/n, Crispy Cole makes an appearance (a brief one), nipple play, cum eating.

Word count: 2K

You’re not used to being in the Castle. In reality this was your first time stepping into these halls. You tug at the neckline of your dress. You aren’t used to being so covered. Being a worker in the street of silk meant you often found yourself with as minimal clothes as possible. After so many years you’d grown used to being bare most of the time. But you couldn’t walk in such a sacred space with such little clothing so you’d opted for a dress that covered you better. 

You trailed behind the guard in silence, eyes taking in your surroundings. You wondered why you’d been called here. You’d lain with the Targeryens before but always outside of the castle walls. That's the way it was supposed to be. The royals prided themselves in being discreet about these things. Or at least they thought they were being discreet about it but in reality everyone knew of their trips to the street of silk. 

The guard stopped in front of a door, knocking on it. You waited for a moment before a voice rang through the hall.

“Enter.”

You recognized the voice instantly. Alicent Hightower was behind that door. Your eyes widened a bit at the realization. For some reason you’d expected to have been called over by one of the men of the castle. But the longer you thought about it the more it made sense that Alicent has been the one to request you. She was probably after secrets her children kept from her. And who better to answer her questions than someone like you who dealt with secrets on the daily. 

You walked into the room, eye scanning the place until your eyes fell on Alicents red hair. You heard the door close behind you, telling your the guard had left. Alicent turned to face you, her eyes looking you up and down. 

“Your Grace.”

You gave a small bow, knowing it was better to be formal than to suffer the consequences. Alicent walked around the room, nervously picking at her hands. You stayed still, awaiting any command from her. 

“You work in the street of silk.”

“Yes, your grace.”

“So you’ve been with men.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Many men have come for my services.”

Silence filled the room for a moment as Alicent thought of how to make this next question not so obvious.

“What about women?”

Your brows furrowed for a moment, trying to understand why Alicent would ask something like that. But then she turned around to face you and you caught onto the look on her face, understanding immediately. You gave her a small smirk, eyes switching to a more sultry gaze.

“Yes, I've pleasured women before, Your Grace.”

You could see the way Alicents breath hitched a bit at your words. The action pleased you greatly. You always adored the effect you had on people. Especially important people. Alicent stared at you for a moment, trying to decide if she was really going to do this. You were already here, it would be a waste not to.

“Take your clothes off.”

You smiled at Alicent, hands moving to remove your dress. It took you a bit longer than it usually did because of all the layers that made up your dress. Once you had finally managed to remove the layers you let them pool on the ground. You stepped out of the pile, standing before Alicent fully nude. You watched Alicent take in the sight of you.

“Do I please you, Your Grace?”

Alicents throat went dry at the question. Words seemed to get stuck in her throat, not allowing her to answer you verbally. Instead she nodded her head at you, her hand moving to grip at her dress. You caught onto the action, beginning to move towards her.

“Would you like me to help you get undressed?”

Alicent looked startled for a moment and you couldn’t help but think you’d misunderstood her intentions with you. But before you could dwell on the thought for too long Alicent managed to open her mouth.

“Yes.”

The words came out in a breathy whisper, making it clear the effect your naked body had on her. You moved forward, closing the gap between the two of you. Alicent turned around so that you could unlace her dress. Your hand moved over her skin gently, causing goosebumps to appear on her arms. As her skin was revealed to you you leaned down to kiss it. The action caused Alicent to close her eyes and suck in a breath. You could feel the tense way her body shifted.

“Have you been with a woman before, Your Grace?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry, I'll be very gentle.”

Remarkably your words seemed to calm her a bit, her shoulders relaxing against your touch. Once you’d removed her clothing completely you took a step back. Alicent felt you retreat from her, her head moving to the side so she could look at you. She seemed a bit shy,a blush coating her cheeks as she felt you stare at her.

“May I see you, Your Grace?”

“Are you not already?”

You gave her a small smile.

“I mean I wish to gaze at your eyes as I look at you.”

You wanted her to turn to face you but you could tell she was still in new territory and that started her.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing I haven't seen before.”

Your words seemed to remind Alicent that this was just a job to you. There was nothing happening here that you’d consider wrong. You would not judge her, just as she did not judge you. That thought calmed her, allowing her to step into her more confident self. She turned to face, proudly displaying her body to you. Your eyes lingered on her frame, moving over her body as you took in her beauty. You moved forward once again, your hand resting on Alicents waist. She watched you sink onto your knees before her, your head tilted up so you could gaze at her.

“You’re stunning, Your Grace.”

Alicent gasped as you placed a kiss on her stomach. You wound your hands around her, your tongue moving over her skin. You rose your body slowly, kissing the valley of her breasts before moving to take her breast in your mouth. Alicents hand moved to grab onto your head as you sucked on her breast, your tongue circling around her nipple. You felt her body fall back a bit as your hands moved to caress her body. Alicent grabbed onto the dresser behind her to steady herself. You’d barely even touched her and she was already having a hard time standing. You noticed this, causing you to unlatch your lips from her chest.

“Would you like to lay down, Your Grace?”

“That might be best.”

You moved away from her making your way to the bed. Alicent watched you climb onto the bed and settle down. She eyes you curiously, not understanding what you were doing. 

“Come take a seat.”

She did as you asked, climbing onto the bed and moving to sit next to you. She gazed at your relaxed frame for a moment before looking at your face. You had a smile plastered on your face.

“Have I done something amusing?”

“You could say that.”

“Well whats so funny?”

“When i asked you to sit i didn’t mean on the bed.”

Where else would you want her to…

Oh. Oh.

Alicents eyes widened as she understood. Her face turned a deep shade of red and all you could do was keep smiling up at her. It took her a moment to gather herself. Once she did she looked at you.

“I’ve never done it that way before.”

“First time for everything isn’t there?”

She supposed you were right. A year ago she would have never imagined herself doing something like this, yet here she was. Alicent climbed onto your chest, her legs resting on either side of you. She looked down at you for guidance. You placed your hands on her thighs, holding onto her. She lifted her body a bit, inching herself up until her nose was close to touching the wall. You tugged her down onto your face.

The moment Alicent felt your tongue on her she couldn’t help but moan. You lapped at her pussy with great expertise, tongue moving  in a manner that brought Alicent great pleasure. She grabbed onto the headboard, resting her forehead on the wall as she took in small breaths. She was trying to be as quiet as possible, knowing there were guards outside, but you weren't making it easy on her. Her body moved forwards on its own, hips humping against you. The motion caused your nose to rub against her clit perfectly and in a couple minutes she was reaching her orgasm. 

Alicent's cum coated your face as she reached her high. Her body sagged slightly against you. You continued lapping up her juices until she winced and placed her hand on your head to stop you. Slowly she moved off your face. Your chest rose and fell as you tried to regain your normal breathing.

Alicent watched you with dazed eyes. Before she could totally understand what she was doing, her body began leaning down. You felt Alicent's lips come in contact with yours in a sweet kiss. You let her take control of the kiss, not wanting to overstep and upset her. She broke away from you, licking her lips to clean off the cum that had caught onto her skin. 

You watched her get off the bed, wobbly legs making their way towards the place her clothes were on the floor. You pushed yourself up, inching yourself off the bed as well. You made your way to Alicent, your arms wrapping around her waist. You felt her let out a breath as she felt your body on hers.

“Did I please you?”

“Very much.”

“I’m glad. Want help with your clothes?”

“Yes.”

You helped Alicent get dressed, making sure she looked as put together as possible. Once she was decent you moved to dress yourself. To your surprise Alicent made her way over to you. You felt her hands move against your bare skin for a moment before she leaned down to place a kiss to your shoulder. She helped you tug on your clothes. When she finished you turned to face her. She looked at you in silence, almost as if she was trying to commit your face to memory. You gave her a smile, bowing slightly before knocking on the door. The guard opened the door, his eyes catching on Alicent before looking at you.

“Ser Criston please make sure she is escorted back to the streets safely.”

The guard nodded at Alicent, moving out of your way so that you could exit. The two of you walked in silence until you reached the castle gate.

“I can make it back to town on my own.”

“Your Grace told me to company-”

“Trust me, I'm doing you a favor. My place of work is not suited for a man such as yourself.”

You gestured to his white cloak with your head. He understood your words immediately, eyes widening a bit at the implication. You merely smiled at him and turned to go on your way.

“My lady!”

You turned back to look at him.

“Yes?”

“What did Your Grace require of you?”

You gave him a small laugh.

“That's for me to know and for you to be curious about.”

You could sense the small disappointment in Cristons face.

“If you truly need to know, perhaps you should ask Alicent. I’m sure there will be no consequences.”

He could tell you were being coy so he opted to not give you an answer. He watched you turn around again and make your way out of the castle. Once you were far enough down the path towards the town Criston turned around and made his way back to Alicents quarters. He knocked on the door and waited for Alicents command for him to come in. When she gave it he opened the door, closing it behind him. His eyes found Alicents frame.

“Well? Did she say anything?”

“Not a word, Your Grace.”

“Good.”

Alicent gazed out the window, a small smile making its way to her face. You’d kept your exchange a secret, proving your loyalty to her. She’d have to keep you around. There were still many things she wanted you to teach her. 

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [20]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 19 | Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist

San bowed his head as he absorbed the Queen's narration of the fourth prince's attempt to steal the general's wife during his absence at war, fearing the wrath of His Majesty and reeling from his own shock. Had he been aware of Prince Yeosang's plans beforehand, the royal secretary might have prevented you from attending the supposed birthday banquet in the first place.

The entire palace staff in the grand hall was startled as the King slammed his hand against the armrest of his throne, "The fourth prince did what?! This is outrageous! I've warned you countless times about spoiling him too much, my Queen."

Rubbing his temples, His Majesty shook his head and let out a heavy sigh, "We'll deal with him later. For now, confine him to his private chambers. He's only allowed in the royal library for his studies. The last thing we need is for him to unexpectedly show up at General Park's wedding and cause chaos."

Lowering her head, Her Majesty conceded, "Yes, Your Majesty. It's my responsibility. I know I should have been firmer with him."

"We're fortunate Lady Park handled the situation gracefully. I can see why Seonghwa is so enamoured with her," The King remarked with a slight smile before addressing San, "Secretary Choi, ensure that all funding for Prince Yeosang is withheld until further notice. Given his rebellious nature, he would likely find a way to disobey orders. Without financial resources, let's see what he can attempt."

As the Queen's lips parted to plead for leniency, His Majesty silenced her with a stern glare, leaving no room for argument. The weight of guilt settled heavily in her chest, a stark reminder of her own role in enabling the prince's behaviour. She couldn't deny that she simply wanted her fourth son to find happiness, but she knew deep down that her indulgence had contributed to his disobedient nature.

With a heavy heart, she reminded herself that this was not even the prince's harshest punishment yet. She could only imagine what further consequences awaited him at the hands of his father.

The royal secretary bowed in acknowledgement, "Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything else you would like to add?"

The King straightened up, his demeanour shifting as he moved on from the matter concerning his son, "It would be great if you could visit the general's estate and inquire about his well-being on my behalf. Once he's feeling all better, arrange a meeting promptly so we can proceed with his wedding ceremony without delay."

With a final bow, San prepared to take his leave, but before he could depart, the ageing monarch extended a hand to stop him, "Wait, Secretary Choi! There is one last matter," His Majesty interjected, "Please extend my sincere apologies to General Park for my son's behaviour and express gratitude for his dedicated service to the nation. See to it that we cover all his medical expenses."

"Of course, my King."

The royal secretary stood before the entrance of his friend's estate the next day, feeling a slight hesitation before announcing himself. While His and Her Majesty bore some responsibility for the fourth prince's actions, San couldn't shake the feeling of personal responsibility. After all, he had been the one to prepare you for the supposed royal event, unknowingly sending you into the lion's den. He couldn't help but feel like a bad friend to Seonghwa, questioning whether he had done enough to protect the general's wife in his absence.

"I'm sorry to intrude on your moment of reflection, but how much longer do you plan to linger by the entrance, sir?" The private investigator's voice snapped San out of his trance, prompting him to blink rapidly as he recognised the familiar figure leaning against the main gate, eyeing him with curiosity.

Clearing his throat, San composed himself, "O-oh, hello! I, uh... I was just about to enter. It's nice to properly meet you, Investigator Jung. My name is—"

"Royal Secretary Choi San, I know. We're all aware, don't worry! It's an honour to be recognised by you, sir. Come on, you must be here to see General Park. Let me show you to him; Jongho's occupied at the moment," Wooyoung led the way, the secretary noting his talkative nature, "You won't believe what he's up to right now; he's such a peculiar kid. Takes dedication to a whole new level, I'll tell you that..."

At a certain point, San tuned out the rambling, focusing instead on mentally preparing himself to face you and your husband again. Would Seonghwa be displeased with him for not coming to his wife's rescue when she needed it the most? He wouldn't be surprised at all if the general were to be truly upset with him.

Before he could further overthink it, they arrived at the living hall where the couple was seated and engaged in conversation with the famous dressmaker Kim and skilled Physician Jung. Your husband looked up as if sensing his presence, beaming, "Ah, you're here, San! Come join us. We knew you'd be showing up sometime this week. I assume His Majesty has received my letter, yes?"

The secretary was taken aback, to say the least. First of all, he didn't think he deserved the warm welcome, and secondly, he had believed Seonghwa's injury to be severe, so seeing him looking almost back to his usual self shocked him. Though the older man appeared a bit paler than usual, San was primarily relieved to see his friend alive and well. Memories of the panic he had felt upon first receiving news of the general's poisoning flooded back to him.

Oh, thank god he's okay.

Greeting everyone in the hall with a polite bow, he cleared his throat, "You have no idea how relieved I am to see you alright, General Park. But before I deliver His Majesty's message, I feel compelled to offer my apologies to you and Lady Park."

Confusion creased your brow as you asked, "Whatever for, San?"

With a sigh, he admitted, "You're both too kind for your own good. I should have been more vigilant and prevented Lady Park from attending Prince Yeosang's birthday banquet in the first place. If only I had intervened, she wouldn't have gone through—"

You interjected with a gentle chuckle, "Please, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known. If you had, I'm certain you would have acted to prevent it."

Seonghwa nodded in agreement, adding, "San, you're far too hard on yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for; you've been nothing but a great help to my wife. Now, please, take a seat and join us."

Amidst the comforting smiles around him, the secretary finally eased into his seat. Eunsook promptly served him tea and refreshments, signalling the start of their discussions. San's revelation caught everyone off guard since they had yet to receive word from Mingi: the war had ended, and Ruhon had surrendered. As they exchanged incredulous glances, a wave of relief washed over them, followed by cheers of joy. The general and his wife shared a meaningful gaze, hands clasped together as you exchanged soft smiles. San understood the significance of that moment—the two could finally proceed with the long-awaited wedding ceremony.

The worst is finally over.

Unable to contain his curiosity, San finally inquired about how the general had sustained his injury. Your husband recounted the harrowing experience, his friends visibly wincing as they imagined the scenario. Your heart ached as you listened. Sensing the tension, Yunho jumped in, reassuring everyone that the injury wasn't severe and that with proper rest, Seonghwa would be back to full health in a matter of weeks.

"That's a relief. Once you're feeling better, we'll arrange a meeting with Their Majesties to plan your wedding. That's the main reason His Majesty sent me here today, aside from checking on you," The hall buzzed with excitement, but the general sensed that the secretary had more to say, "Is there something else, San?"

Taking a deep breath, San continued, "The King also wants to extend his sincerest apologies for the fourth prince's actions. As part of his punishment, Prince Yeosang has been confined to his private chambers, and his funds have been frozen. His Majesty is concerned about him causing any disruptions at your wedding."

"Oh, good riddance!" While Hongjoong and Wooyoung clapped with Yunho silently judging them from his corner, you appeared unsettled by the news. Feeling your unease, your husband tightened his grip on your hand and asked, "What's wrong, my love?"

The news of the prince's fate left you with mixed emotions. You felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of him being barred from your wedding. Despite his actions, you couldn't deny that he was still a friend to you and a part of you felt sorry for the struggles he faced all his life due to his birthmark. Understanding the complexities of his situation, you empathised with his confusion and desperation that stemmed from his severe lack of experience with love.

With a small gulp, you turned to your husband, voicing, "Hwa, I... I think I'd still want His Highness at our wedding, if he wished to attend," Surprised looks crossed the faces of everyone in the hall. As you explained your reasoning, they began to understand your perspective. After a moment of contemplation, Seonghwa lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of your palm with a reassuring smile, "Fair enough. If that's truly what you want, we'll discuss it with the King."

In keeping with his promise, you found yourself seated beside your husband as you faced His and Her Majesty for the first time a few weeks later, now that he was fully recovered. Sensing your nervousness about the meeting, the royal couple greeted you warmly, swiftly putting you at ease. After exchanging pleasantries, the general wasted no time in making his request.

"My King, we've heard about the punishment for the fourth prince," He began, "But my wife and I would like to request that you at least allow His Highness to attend our wedding if he wishes."

Confusion flickered across His Majesty's face, "You do? But why?" He inquired. The Seonghwa he once knew would have been furious and unforgiving. It seemed Lady Park had a positive influence on him.

Feeling it was only right for you to respond since it was your personal request, you gathered your thoughts before speaking.

"Your Majesty, I understand that Prince Yeosang's actions may seem outrageous from an outsider's perspective. However, I believe His Highness has endured a painful life, facing discrimination due to his birthmark. It's clear he mistook kindness for love, given his limited experiences. Despite his mistakes, he remains a dear friend to me. It would be meaningful to have him at our celebration, if he chooses to attend. I hope you can understand, Your Majesties. I apologise if I've spoken too much and am overstepping boundaries."

As your words sank in, a wave of introspection washed over the King. For the first time, he found himself reflecting on his relationship with Yeosang. Had he been too harsh on his son? Had he failed to understand the pain his son bore due to his birthmark? The King couldn't shake the feeling of guilt as he realised that he may have viewed his son more as a burden than a beloved child. Perhaps there were times when he had even considered the prince's refusal to marry as a personal affront.

The sudden realisation left the King feeling conflicted and remorseful. He wondered if he had been a horrible father, too absorbed in his duties as a monarch to truly understand his son's struggles. It was a sobering moment for him, realising that he may have overlooked his son's pain and loneliness. Was this why the Queen had been so persistent in advocating leniency towards Yeosang? Was she trying to make up for his shortcomings as a father? These questions weighed heavily on his mind as he grappled with his newfound awareness of his own failings.

His and Her Majesty exchanged a meaningful glance. Suddenly, they understood why the fourth prince would mistake his gratitude towards you for love. After all, you had shown him a kindness and compassion he had rarely experienced, even from his own family.

Beginning to feel anxious at the royal couple's silence, you awaited their response with bated breath, with Seonghwa ready to support you if needed. To your relief, they smiled warmly at you.

"Please don't apologise for that, Lady Park," They reassured you, "You're right; perhaps we've been too harsh on him all this while. If having him at your wedding is what you wish, we shall allow it."

"Thank you, Your Majesties."

The Queen sighed softly before adding, "But whether or not he wishes to attend is ultimately his decision. Let's hope he chooses to join us for your sake."

You nodded in understanding, "Of course, I completely understand."

As the preparations for your wedding ceremony unfolded, time seemed to pass in a blur. Traditionally, weddings entail two parts: the first at the bride's home, where the couple honours her ancestors and family, and the second at the groom's home for the same purpose. However, due to your circumstances, with no family home for you and Seonghwa having little connection to his parents or ancestors, your wedding would be simplified, taking place solely within the palace grounds, where the royal family would also be able to attend, given that most of them are not allowed to leave the place.

In no time, you found yourself comfortably seated in one of the palace chambers, which had been graciously lent to you for the day. Hongjoong immediately began working on perfecting your look, with Eunsook and a team of palace maids assisting him.

You couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite hanbok now adorning your figure. Unlike the traditional red hanbok worn by most brides, this one was a stunning combination of white and gold. It was a testament to the dressmaker's dedication to his friend's request to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon.

Instead of the usual red flower, Hongjoong meticulously painted a gold flower on your forehead to complement your exquisite hanbok. You admired how perfectly it matched your outfit and the gold accessories adorning your hair. While part of you wondered if it was appropriate to outshine the royals, as the dressmaker had emphasised countless times, another part of you chose to revel in the admiration you would receive. You couldn't believe how far you'd come from being the scared girl who once endured disdainful glances and disrespect before marrying Seonghwa.

Reflecting on your journey, you felt grateful for the twists and turns that had brought you to this moment. Perhaps Jinjoo was right; you were quite thankful to your family for orchestrating your union with the general. Without them, you wouldn't be here, basking in the happiness you had finally found.

I guess we're even now, father.

Noticing your silence and distant gaze in the mirror's reflection, the dressmaker lightly nudged you on the shoulder, "Well? How do you like this look, my lady? Please don't tell me you're having second thoughts about standing out now. I've spent the past month working tirelessly on this hanbok—"

You giggled and offered a soft smile to your friend, "Don't worry, Hongjoong. It's perfection. For once, I think it's okay for me to outshine even the princesses. After all, it's my wedding ceremony, and I'll only be getting married once."

His grin widened proudly as he saw you slowly shedding your old self, no longer the timid girl he first met, "Damn right, it's perfection. I create only that and nothing less," He joked before turning serious, "Listen, I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Seonghwa's a dear friend to me, and I honestly would've thrown a bigger tantrum than he did if he had been arranged to marry some spoiled brat. You don't know how happy I am that you've found each other. But if that idiot does anything to upset you again, you better tell me."

You chuckled through your tears, your throat tightening at his heartfelt words, "You bet I will. Thank you, Hongjoong."

He panicked when he noticed your wet eyes, "Hey, hey, hey. Don't you dare start crying, woman. If you cry, I'll cry too. And trust me, that's not a good look for either of us. Plus, you can't ruin your makeup!"

His jest seemed to do the trick, eliciting another round of laughter from you. Fussing over you one last time, he noticed the palace staff at the entrance signalling it was time for you to be on standby. Gently grasping your shoulders, he beamed at you like a proud father, "Are you ready, Lady Park?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

With the nervous beat of your heart echoing in your ears, you were guided to the main hall, where the rituals would soon unfold, with Eunsook at your side. Hongjoong had departed after ensuring you looked flawless, joining the other wedding guests. As you reached the waiting area, where final checks would be made before your grand entrance and your first meeting with your husband today, your steps faltered.

While the head maid busied herself tidying your hair and smoothing the creases in your hanbok, you gulped, "Eunsook, t-tell me... this isn't a dream, is it?"

The elderly woman giggled, gently taking hold of your hands, "Are you still asking me that, mistress? Do you remember the first time you asked me that question?"

You nodded, reminiscing about the first time you had allowed the maids to bathe you after Seonghwa had discovered your scars. So much has changed since then. Though you weren't the same person you once were, a small part of you still harboured a fear that this all might be too good to be true. It felt like a long dream, and you couldn't shake the worry that you would one day wake up back in the hellhole you once called home.

Giving your hand a comforting squeeze, she smiled, "Well, I'm here to reassure you once more that this is all very real. Perhaps you fear losing the happiness you've found and you're not alone in that. Master feels the same way, so do all of us at the estate. We all fear losing the happiness that you've brought into our lives. I hope you haven't forgotten what I've said to you: you are our light and our hope. You're incredibly important to all of us. You still are, and always will be."

"She's right, you know?"

A familiar deep voice interrupted, startling both you and Eunsook as an unexpected figure appeared behind you. Surprised, you turned to find Prince Yeosang standing there, arms casually intertwined behind his back, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your reaction.

"Y-Your Highness?" You stammered, half-expecting his absence.

He continued, "You should've seen General Park earlier as they got him dressed. All he cared about was how you were doing. I guess that's what you meant by true love, huh? I wish it were just a dream for me, but it's not. So, don't you worry, Lady Park, this is all very real. I didn't give up on you for you to doubt this reality. Please make my choice worth it and be happy, okay?"

Relief flooded through you, reassured by his acceptance of your new chapter, "I promise I will make it worth it. Thank you, my prince, for choosing to be here today and for your kind words." You replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

He grinned in response, "Of course, wouldn't miss my first and only friend's wedding for the world," With a playful wink, he gestured towards the palace staff entering to usher you out, "Now hurry and get out there, don't make him wait any longer."

At last, all is right in the world.

Returning his smile with gratitude, you took a deep breath before stepping forward. As you walked out, you felt a newfound readiness wash over you. You were prepared now; ready to formally be wedded to Park Seonghwa, not out of obligation, but out of pure love for him. You were ready to be the wife he needed, the shoulder he could lean on when the weight of his responsibilities grew heavy. You were ready to be his home, his refuge, ready to be everything to him, just as he was everything to you.

As Seonghwa stepped out from his side of the waiting area, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you approaching from the opposite end. Each time he laid eyes on you, he thought you couldn't possibly become more beautiful, yet you continued to prove him wrong. Hongjoong had outdone himself once again; you looked more majestic than any royalty he had ever seen.

You stood out among the crowd, exuding grace and elegance in your one-of-a-kind hanbok. As you glided toward him, he felt overwhelmed by your beauty. But it wasn't just the general who was stunned; every guest at the ceremony had their jaws drop in awe at your ethereal appearance. Those seeing you for the first time now realised the whispers and rumours about your beauty were true. Truly, you looked like an angel descended from the heavens.

As the rituals unfolded, requiring you and Seonghwa to stand across from each other and perform a series of bows as instructed by the wedding officiator, each gesture symbolising a different aspect of your commitment to each other, you both remained focused on each other. Despite the lengthy and tedious proceedings, all you could see was one another as you patiently waited for it all to be over.

The guests cooed in anticipation as it was time for you and your husband to exchange a cup of wine, the act symbolising longevity and fertility. You blushed lightly as you heard Wooyoung among the crowd squealing, only to be smacked silent by Jongho and Yunho who stood by his side.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the seemingly endless rituals were concluded. You and the general bowed together a few more times: once to His and Her Majesty, once to the gods, and once to the guests. With that, the ceremony was complete, and you could finally bask in the joy of being officially united as husband and wife.

After the two of you expressed gratitude to the King and Queen for their assistance in making the wedding possible, the feast began. As neither you nor Seonghwa had any family present, you were naturally surrounded by your closest companions, the guys. Your husband took the opportunity to introduce you to the only friend of his whom you had yet to meet.

Grateful for his presence, you smiled warmly at the strategist, "Thank you for always looking out for my husband, Officer Song."

Mingi grinned bashfully, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush. He still seemed taken aback by your beauty, "Not at all, my lady. It's General Park who has been looking out for me all this while."

Seonghwa smirked knowingly, giving the taller man a playful nudge, "Thanks again for coming, man. A little birdie told me you've reunited with a special someone. Can we expect a wedding invite soon?"

The guys around the table teased with mischievous oohs as Mingi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I don't know, hyung-nim. I'm working on it. But let's not talk about me, it's your big day!"

Hongjoong, however, wasn't having it, "Oh, come on, don't you dare change the subject! We need details about this mysterious lady!" He insisted, eager for gossip. The other guys excitedly chimed in, urging the officer to spill the beans about the royal physician who had captured his attention for years.

Amidst their playful interrogation of Mingi, you glanced around the room, curious to see if the fourth prince was still present. Catching sight of him, you noticed he was discreetly making his way toward the exit. Sensing your gaze, he turned, meeting your eyes. He offered you a genuine smile and a final nod before vanishing from view.

May happiness find you, Your Highness.

The remainder of the ceremony proceeded seamlessly, thanks to the meticulous arrangements made by the palace staff. As night fell, you returned to Seonghwa's private chambers, where the two of you would share a meal and some drinks before... going to bed. Your heart pounded with nervousness, fully aware of the significance of the evening; you would both be expected to consummate your marriage tonight.

"My love, are you feeling alright?" You blinked rapidly, coming back to reality as your husband waved his hand in front of your face to grab your attention. You nodded quickly and resumed eating, trying to appear casual, "Y-yes, I'm fine, Hwa. Don't worry about me."

But the general was more perceptive than you realised. He could sense your unease, especially as the meal was drawing to a close. With a soft smile, he set down his wine glass and reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Why do you bother lying to me, you silly girl? Did you think I would be disappointed in you?"

He knew he had guessed correctly when your chewing momentarily paused. Shifting his hand to cup your cheek, he gently guided you to meet his warm gaze, "What do you take me for, hm? We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready. I can wait, I'll wait for as long as you need," With a tender kiss on your forehead, he rose from his seat, "I'll get the maids to prepare the House of Lotus for you."

Feeling deeply touched by his understanding, you realised how foolish you had been to once fear the possibility of him hurting you. Truthfully, it wasn't that you didn't want to deepen your intimacy with him; rather, you were scared. He would be the first man to see all of you, every scar on your body, and you feared what he might think, feared letting him down. But his love for you reminded you of his kindness and brought you a newfound confidence.

Before he could leave, you panicked and reached for his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, "No, Hwa, please don't. I want to... I-I want to stay with you tonight."

Kneeling before you, he gently took your hands in his, "Are you sure, my love? You don't have to force yourself—"

You cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his. He responded almost immediately, and you smiled at the small whine he let out as he chased after your lips when you pulled away. Whispering, you said, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to stay with you, Park Seonghwa. You're not getting rid of me tonight, or ever."

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he immediately captured your lips in a deep kiss, one passionate enough to leave you dizzy. With his guidance, you rose from your seat, your lips still connected, and he lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards his bed. Both your hearts raced as you broke the kiss to catch your breath, panting as he gently set you down.

Your breath caught as you leaned against the pillows behind you, trapped between his arms as before, reminiscent of the interrupted moment with Hongjoong. However, this time, it wasn't you who halted the moment. The general's gaze turned serious as he locked eyes with you, his voice low, "Last chance. We can still stop if you want to change your mind. Because if we go any further from here, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold myself back."

Cupping his face, you leaned in to kiss him softly, murmuring, "I love you, Hwa." If that wasn't enough to convey your feelings, you guided his hands to the ribbon securing the outer layer of your hanbok, silently granting him permission to undress you.

The first time he had aggressively torn your clothing was a mistake he regretted deeply. Now, he approached it with care, delicately untying the ribbon and holding his breath as he removed the garment, exposing your shoulders once more. The faint traces of your old scars were visible, but they didn't faze him. Tilting your chin up, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "You're so beautiful, my wife. I love you too."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes fluttered close as he kissed you again, banishing all previous worries from your mind. When he pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck until they reached your scars. Gently pushing some hair away from his face, you stroked his head affectionately, watching as he showered each mark with kisses. As his hand hovered over the ribbon securing the inner layer of your hanbok, he looked up at you one last time, knowing there would be no turning back from this moment onward.

"I'll be gentle, my love, I promise."

"I know, Hwa, I trust you."

That night, you and Seonghwa became lost in each other, the boundaries between you fading away as you become one for the first time. In each other's arms, you discovered a love deeper than you ever thought possible. You found yourself no longer able to picture your life without him at this point.

Reflecting on your journey together, you marvelled at how much he had changed since you first met. Back then, you could never have imagined that he would come to love you so deeply, nor could you have anticipated the depth of your own feelings for him. Now, as you lay intertwined with him in the quiet of the night, you knew that you had arrived at your destination. It had been a long journey, filled with obstacles and challenges, but in the end, you found it.

You had finally found the way to his heart.

Y'all, I hope this one didn't disappoint! The pressure of knowing this was the final part was so SO REAL. Maybe it's my insecurities kicking in, but I genuinely hope this meets expectations!😭

Also, I know the story is completed but I have good news! I've decided to do some fluff-filled bonus chapters because I'm well aware this is barely enough to make up for all the angst I've put y'all through HAHA if you're not on the tag list and would like to be tagged for any future bonus content, just leave a comment to let me know!

Whoo, it's been quite the roller coaster ride now, hasn't it? If you've made it this far, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story! From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for reading and as always, please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[theragingpan]

seeing people say helen was "throwing a tantrum" at the end of the movie and "what was the point of that she desecrated the mona lisa for shits and giggles and now she's going to get arrested" or whatever when it was stated explicitly in the movie that because klear blew up "the most famous painting in the world" miles literally cannot sell it anymore. he is sunk. AND HIS GROUPIES RECOGNIZE THAT AND FINALLY TAKE HELEN'S SIDE BECAUSE THEY KNOW THEY'LL BE TAKEN DOWN WITH MILES OTHERWISE

BUT LIKE. LEAVING ASIDE THE "LOGICAL" REASONS was the setup and payoff not beautiful? miles will be immortalized; always mentioned in the same breath as the mona lisa asdfkjlafsdj;lk

did you see helen's mona lisa smile?? did you see the house going up in flames as she walked out because people like miles never face consequences for their actions but he killed her sister and he is going to pay DID YOU SEE???