#getting through the series just to see (or hear) them

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter sixteen ⭐︎ Hold me, love me, touch me, honey

Warnings: 18+ minors don’t interact! smut, unprotected sex, *cough* breeding kink *cough*, slight allusions to pregnancy? but not really. not proofread... ignore any mistakes please

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve's newfound feelings awaken something else in him when you reveal a little secret to him.

Word count: 7.9k+

Author’s note: I'm sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I hope it was worth the wait though and that you guys will enjoy it! shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping with this as always hehe ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The aching in your head is the first thing you feel when you wake from your deep sleep, the throbbing pain making you groan in displeasure. When you open your eyes, you quickly shut them again, it’s not even that bright in the room, the curtains are closed but the little light that peeks through is still enough to hurt your sensitive eyes. You scrunch your nose and raise your hands up towards your face, hiding your eyes with your palms, you roll over on your side and sink your face into Steve’s pillow. 

You can still taste the beer in your mouth and it brings back the nausea that has been haunting you for a while. 

You raise your head and touch the spot beside you, sliding your palm back and forth, only to find Steve’s side of the bed empty. 

He is downstairs, you can hear the radio, it’s not even loud but your ears could pick up any sound right now. 

You squint open your eyes and give yourself a moment to adjust to the light, you stretch your arms out and inhale his scent that lingers all around you, embracing the fluttering in your heart. You slowly push yourself up but keep the covers over your body, looking over at the nightstand on your side of the bed, a smile appears on your face when you see the glass of water and Advil along with a little note ‘drink up, blondie – and come downstairs for coffee and breakfast’. Your dry mouth is begging for the water, you scoot over and reach for it, gladly grabbing the painkiller too, you throw it into your mouth and wash it down with the water. 

From the corner of your eye, you see the clothes you wore the night before, the skirt he slid down your body, the top and the bra he took off for you before he helped you put on his shirt. 

Pictures of last night start flashing in your mind, you remember how he held your hand and how he kissed you, how he held you and refused to let you out of his sight. He was soft with you, gentle and sweet — how you always wished him to be with you. 

Was it because of how you acted? Because of the side you always refused to show? 

The alcohol in your system revealed something you were always afraid to show, a you that you’ve always kept sacred, because you were too afraid to show your real self to people, the gentle and caring side, the loving one that craved intimacy and affection so so badly. This side of you is too vulnerable and you don’t like it, you don’t like to be perceived that way. You’d rather let people keep seeing you like this — rough, mean and cold. They won’t know if you’re hurt, they won’t see through your act, they won’t see you, and you want to keep it that way. 

Embarrassment fills you the longer you think of how you were around him, how giddy and happy you were, how love guided you to kiss him and treat him as though he was your boyfriend when he wasn’t, when he isn’t, when he will never be. 

How will you face him after last night? 

What does he think of you now? 

Will he treat you differently now? 

Can you just pretend like you don’t remember a single thing and you can both go back to normal?

You throw the covers off your body and get up from the bed, making a trip to the bathroom to brush your teeth, wash your face and comb through your hair to make yourself look more presentable before you walk downstairs to join Steve in the kitchen. 

Your heart starts doing pitter patters the closer you get to him, feeling nervous to look into his eyes and trying to pretend like everything is normal between you both like his soft touches didn’t fill you with a sliver of hope – something that makes you feel like a fool, there is no hope, there shouldn’t be, but your stupid heart can’t understand that. 

When you walk into the kitchen and you look out the window, you realize that it��s not even that bright out, the sun is only peeking through the big clouds, drops of rain roll down the windows, and the faintest sound of thunder rumbles through the sky, overpowering the music playing from the radio. 

Goosebumps rise up on your skin, an unsettling feeling appears in your stomach but you’re not afraid, despite how uneasy you feel, you’re not afraid, because you aren’t alone, because you’re with him. 

It smells like coffee and waffles, the mixed scents making your lips curl into an excited smile. 

Steve is standing with his back to you, finishing up on the waffles that he’s already got a stacked up plate of, he is sipping on his coffee and you wonder how long he has been up for already. 

His head is slightly banging along to the music, his hair is still messy, uncombed and unstyled, he is wearing a white tank top and sweatpants, he looks so cozy – that’s how you love him the most. 

You take in a shaky breath and open your mouth to speak, to say good morning, to say something as the nervousness seeps in deeper but he beats you to it, as though he can feel your eyes on him, he turns around to face you, his hazel eyes lighten up at the sight of you, the smugness that sinks into his features makes you shrink into yourself a little, your cheeks heat up and you suddenly feel flustered. 

“Good morning, Blondie,” he smirks, eyeing you up and down as he takes you in, how you look in his shirt – he will never get tired of this sight. “How are you feeling?” 

“Morning,” you murmur as you make your way over to the coffee maker, you reach for one of the mugs in the cupboard and place it on the counter, pouring yourself some coffee, you take your time turning back to him as you try to calm your nerves and your blushing. “Good… surprisingly.”

Steve chuckles behind you, you hear his footsteps and how he opens the fridge, getting something out of it before closing it again. 

“Yeah, you were pretty drunk last night,” he clears his throat and you suddenly feel his breath on your shoulder and his hand on your waist as he places the creamer on the counter before you, “no hangover?” 

His hand lingers and he doesn’t step away just yet. 

“Thanks,” you murmur as you reach for the creamer and pour some into your coffee, “my head hurts a little but I feel fine.” 

Steve nods behind you, he squeezes your waist and fights the urge to just turn you around and steal your breath away by kissing you deeply. 

“Did you drink the water and the Advil I put on the nightstand?” 

He doesn’t remove his hand, even when you turn around to face him, he leaves it on your waist. 

You cup the mug with both hands and bring it up to your lips, taking a sip as you look up into his eyes. The burning in your cheeks is still there, the heat matching the one of the hot beverage in your hands. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Good,” he nods, eyeing your face slowly. 

He can tell that you’re flustered and shy even – that is a rare sight to see, it makes the fluttering in his heart so much stronger. 

You blink as you stare up at him and take another sip, squirming a little when he takes a step closer. 

Steve can’t help but chuckle to see you blushing, he brings his hand up towards your face, slipping his fingers through your hair before he tucks it behind your ear. 

“Do you want another kissy?” 

Your lips part and your eyes widen, more embarrassment rushes through you at his teasing. 

Steve chuckles again when you roll your eyes and groan. 

“Stop!” You whine, not knowing that this sound only makes him adore you even more. “I was so drunk!”

“Yeah? I couldn’t tell,” he snorts, shaking his head in amusement. 

“That was the alcohol talking,” you murmur, lying. 

“Was it?” He asks, furrowing his brows as he tilts his head to the side, adoringly so. “I don’t know, I really liked this Blondie. She was so cute and touchy.” 

Whether he’s teasing or mocking you, your heart doesn’t seem to care as it beats even faster in your chest. The thought that Steve could find you cute makes you feel giddy and it fills you with a sense of happiness only he can make you feel. 

You roll your eyes at him but he chuckles as a smile tugs at your lips. 

Steve’s hand moves from the side of your face to your shoulder and then to your waist again. 

“Don’t get me wrong, your mean side grew on me but you were so adorable last night.” 

Adorable. 

He is teasing you, you are sure that he is just teasing you, the smirk on his lips, the glowing mischief in his eyes gives him away. 

“Don’t forget your waffles,” you blurt out, not knowing what else to say to that. 

He huffs in amusement and squeezes your waist once more before he steps away from you, making his way back to the kitchen counter, he opens the waffle maker and takes out the last one, placing it on the plate before he turns his head to look at you. 

“Come on, I already set up the table.” 

You turn to look at the round kitchen table, seeing it set up just the way it was the first time he made you breakfast. 

Warmth blooms in your chest and your eyes soften. 

He held you in his arms when you fell asleep last night, he got up before you just to make you breakfast – your favorite kind too. 

Is he like that with everyone? 

Does he treat all his hookups like this? 

Does he make them breakfast too or hold them in his arms until they fall asleep?

Or are you the only one that gets all this? 

You don’t even know if he is seeing anyone, if someone else occupies your side of his bed when you don’t see each other. 

Your eyes follow him as he makes his way over to the table and places the plate full of waffles in the middle. 

The thought that someone else might get this too makes you feel uneasy, upset, and hurt. 

He looks at you with furrowed brows, looking as you stand there with a frown on your face, holding the mug against your chest as you stare at him. 

“Come here, your waffles are gonna get cold.” 

You blink, snapping out of the thoughts that leave you with a bitter taste on your tongue. 

You nod and step away from the kitchen counter, you hold the mug tightly in your hands as you make your way over to him. 

Steve pulls back the chair for you, waiting for you to take a seat. 

You try to hide the surprise and the blush on your face as you hide your face behind your hair and turn your back to him as you sit down but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he smiles to himself, adoring this shy side of you. 

“Eat, Blondie,” he murmurs, patting your shoulder before he walks around the table and takes the seat across from you, “we need to get some energy back in you.” 

“Yeah, I actually agree,” you chuckle, picking up a waffle for your fork, “I feel like there’s a huge hole in my stomach.”

“You need to eat more,” he says sternly. “You devoured that chicken sandwich last night.”

“Mhmm it was heavenly,” you nod and pour some syrup on your waffle, “especially after all the beers I’ve had.” 

Steve chuckles, picking up the bowl with strawberries and raspberries, he puts them on your plate, “you need some vitamins too.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Shut up,” he snorts. 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, only the sound of the radio continues on. You eat your waffles and drink your coffees, sharing glances and sweet smiles, a few comments here and there, his foot touching your own under the table. This is nice. You could get used to this.

If only you knew that he feels the same. 

Steve watches you, how you comfortably sit here with him, enjoying the breakfast that he made for you, you’re much quieter than you were last night and he can’t help but miss the other side of you — the clingy and touchy one, the one that asked for kisses and even peppered his face in them. He wonders if you even remember any of it or the things you’ve said to him. You rambled so much, that you probably forgot about the comments you made. 

He takes a sip of his coffee and clears his throat, “do you remember what you said to me last night?” 

Despite remembering everything, you can’t help but panic slightly, wondering if there’s a small detail you can’t recall, that you might’ve said something you tried to keep secret, that you accidentally revealed your feelings, or even confessed your love for him. 

“Uh… I think I’ve said a lot,” you chuckle nervously, scratching the back of your neck as you straighten your back. 

He laughs and nods, “yeah you did, but you told me you had a surprise for me. What’s that about?”

The look on his face is a curious one, his head is tilted to the side, tapping his fingers against his mug. 

A surprise. 

Oh, you surely remember that and what you meant by ‘surprise’ and you can’t help but curse inwardly at your drunken self for thinking that it was a good idea to mention it as that. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks again and the nervousness inside of you returns once more. 

“Ah, right uh… it’s not exactly a surprise but uh…” you pause, not knowing how to start this conversation, sensing the awkwardness that is about to ruin this comforting moment already. 

He raises his brows at you, waiting for you to continue. 

You take a deep breath, breaking eye contact for a moment to look out the window. 

“Um, do you remember those three days we didn’t see each other before Vickie’s party?” You ask and look back at him. 

“Yeah.” 

“I went to the doctor one of those days…” 

His eyes widen a little, his heart skips a beat as some kind of hope swirls inside of him and a million questions start running through his mind. 

“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as the excitement for something that probably doesn’t even exist starts building up. 

You bounce your knee and hold your mug tightly, blinking as you stare into his hazel eyes. 

“Yeah I um… I got an IUD.” 

Steve blinks a few times. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He asks in confusion, he expected something else. 

You huff, getting more and more nervous as each second passes. 

“An IUD… Birth control? Didn’t you learn that in school Lego Head?”

He nods quickly and furrows his brows again, “I know what it is, I’m just wondering why.”

The heat in your cheeks intensifies and suddenly glows so hotly, embarrassment flushes through you and as he stares at you, completely lost and confused, you feel like a deer caught in headlights. 

You had never used birth control before him, or even thought about it, you would’ve never gone without protection with anyone else, birth control or not but with Steve, it’s different. You want him. You want to feel him. You want him closer and more intimately. That one time wasn’t enough, how could it ever be? 

But while you kept thinking about this, wishing for a repeat, he clearly didn’t want the same. 

“J-Just in case,” you mumble with a shaky voice, not realizing just how nervous and small your voice sounds. 

The gears in his head start turning, though very slowly and he is still staring with parted lips and widened eyes. 

He knows what you mean by that, he knows what you want and he wants it too, he’s been wanting it so badly, he’s been thinking about it day and night, when you’re with him or not — he wants you, he wants to feel you again and again. 

He just can’t believe you fucking said that.

You blink and look down, clearing your throat as you close your eyes, feeling regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Just, forget I said that, it's just another measure of contraceptive, we don't need um — you know to lose the other, just to make sure you know! The IUD might fail…” You clear your throat, knowing that an IUD's failure is only... like 2%. 

Your heart starts beating wildly in your chest and you feel the need to escape this awkward situation and him. 

“I uh, I’m gonna get changed and go home… and we can talk later,” you mumble and get up from the chair, not looking into his eyes, “thanks for breakfast…” 

You rush out of the room and away from him before he can even react or say a single world. You hurry up the stairs and walk back into his room, gathering your clothes as quickly as you can. 

“You’re so stupid,” you murmur under your breath, cursing at yourself. 

What were you thinking? That he wanted you like this? That he would care and get excited about something that wouldn’t mean anything to him?  

You don’t listen to the footsteps in the hallway or the door that opens behind you but you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands on your waist and he turns you around, ripping the skirt from your hands that you were just about to put on, he throws it back on the bed and cups your cheeks, nearly making you gasp from how dark and lust filled his eyes are. 

“You can’t just tell me that you’re letting me fuck you raw and then run out on me.” 

“I—“ 

With his lips against your own, he cuts you off roughly, not letting you finish whatever you were about to say as he kisses you with desperation in his touch as his hands move from your cheeks down to your waist and he grips it tightly. 

You whimper in need, throwing your arms around his neck, you ignore the surprise and the pounding in your chest. You deepen the kiss and bury your fingers in his messy hair. 

His lips taste like coffee and the sweetness from the waffles, his chest is pressed against yours tightly, so tightly that you can feel the beating of his own heart. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you feel him against your stomach, making you squeeze your legs together as you feel heat pooling in your lower stomach. 

And just like that, all your worries, all your overthinking disappear into nothing as pleasure takes over your body. 

The kiss is messy, his lips smack against yours continuously, his hands grope your body over his shirt that he wants to get rid of. 

Steve always feels eager and desperate to fuck you, to strip you off your clothes and taste you, to pleasure you with his tongue and his fingers, to take you in a way no one else can but he isn’t sure if he ever felt this kind of need before. He feels as though his skin is on fire, the burning seeping through his flesh and only you can mend it. 

His dick strains against his boxers and his sweatpants, almost hurting from how hard it is and he can’t help but growl against your lips when you slide your hand down his body and start to palm him over his clothes. 

He slips his hands under your shirt, touching your hot skin with his cold fingers. 

The sound of your whimper only pushes him further into you, gaining dominance in the kiss as his tongue moves against yours eagerly. 

He pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “you drive me crazy, Blondie.” 

You can’t hold back the whine that falls from your lips, you almost feel embarrassed for what he turns you into every time he touches you. 

His eyes are dark, almost unrecognizable, he looks hungry, like he’s starving, for you. And it does little to mend your own hunger. 

He grabs your waist tighter and picks you up, catching you off guard when he throws you on his bed, making you bounce on the mattress. 

Steve makes quick work of getting rid of his tank top before he crawls on top of you, spreading your thighs with his knee and reaching for the hem of your shirt, he practically rips it off of your body and exposes your bare chest to him, his eyes grow even darker in the process. 

He grabs your boobs with his large hands, pinching your nipples, he leans down and hovers over you. 

“Steve!” You moan, lips parting as you chase after his lips. 

“Keep moaning like that for me,” he murmurs before he smashes his lips back against yours, kissing you just as roughly as before. 

You close your eyes and reach for his shoulders, holding tightly onto him as you move your lips against his, melting into the kiss. 

You don’t even bother to try and fight for dominance, you won’t win, not today. Steve is in control, and you don’t mind, not for a single second. The pace of the kiss, the touch of his hands, his moans, and the roughness of his lips turn you into a desperate mess as you arch your back and lean into his touch, trying to grind against him. 

Your panties are already damp, the material clinging to your pussy and you just want him to rip them off you just as he did with the shirt. 

As though he can read your mind, he slips his hand down your stomach, his fingers reach the flimsy material that still covers you. He presses your hips down before he touches you the way you’ve been whining for. He groans into the kiss when he feels how wet you are, knowing that he is the cause of it. 

“Is that all for me?” He asks, not moving away from your lips, he rubs circles on your clothed clit, making you whine for more. 

“You know it is!” You don’t feel ashamed to admit it, you don’t bother to hide something that is so obvious anyway. 

He chuckles in satisfaction as he moves his middle and ring finger lower, teasing your entrance. 

“D-Don’t tease me,” you beg, pleading with your eyes as you dig your fingers into his shoulders.

“You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?” He smirks, pecking your lips as he moves your panties to the side. “So desperate that you want me to fuck you raw, huh?” He asks as he slips his fingers through your wet folds, gathering your slick and bringing his digits up to your clit. 

“Yes!” You whine as you buck your hips up, grinding against his fingers. 

“You want me to cum inside of you again, don’t you? Want me to fill you up, honey?” He asks as he continues to tease your clit before he slips two fingers into your dripping hole. 

You suck in a sharp breath, closing your eyes as a loud moan escapes you, he catches it with his lips, smashing his mouth back against yours, stealing your breath with the kiss and the pace of his fingers as he starts to drag them in and out of you, keeping your legs spread with his left hand. 

He lets you adjust for a moment, spreading you open with his long fingers, he kisses you deeply and grinds against your thigh, getting desperate for relief himself. 

The touch of your hand and the feeling of your lips against his own makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch in anticipation. 

This moment is all so driven by lust but he can no longer deny the way you make him feel, the way he needs to feel you close otherwise he might go insane, he wonders if you feel the same, if that is the reason why you want him in a whole new way. 

You clench around his fingers and move your hips, wanting more, wanting him deeper. You mewl against his lips when he curls his fingers inside of you and his thumb presses against your aching clit. 

“Do you hear that?” He asks breathlessly, pecking your lips over and over again. “You’re dripping for me.” 

Steve admires the scrunch of your nose and the furrowed brows, the desperate look in your eyes as you look into his. Your skin is flushed, your chest is rising up and down heavily, your nipples hardened from the coldness in the room and the pleasure in your bones, you’re getting wetter and tighter around his fingers. 

“But you want more, right?” He asks and leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it, “you want me to breed you, don’t you?” 

His words are driven by lust, a part of him he doesn’t recognize shining through, surprising both you and himself. 

You gasp, your cheeks flushing even deeper as the heat rages underneath your skin. You feel too shy to admit it but this might be exactly what you wanted. 

You liked it when he fucked you against his door, when he came inside of you and his cum rolled down your thighs, you loved it even, despite how messy it was, you loved it because it was him. 

You nod and shut your eyes again, your mouth waters at the feeling of his fingers hitting your g-spot and you arch your back in pleasure as your hands find their way back to his hair, pulling and playing with it, making him match his moans with yours. 

“P-Please, Steve…” You whimper as you feel the fire building up in your stomach, beginning to crash over you, “I’m so close.”

Steve starts kissing your chest and making his way up to your neck, tilting your head to the side to suck a mark onto your delicate skin as he continues to fuck you, faster and rougher, moaning at the squelching sounds and your pretty whimpers. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, peppering kisses along your neck and your jaw, “are you gonna be a good girl for me and cum around my fingers?” 

“Yes!” 

Your breathing gets heavier, your heart starts pounding faster and you can’t help but reach for his face, dragging him back to you so you can slam your lips back against his as your fingers dig into his hair roughly when he rubs your clit faster, throwing you over the edge with his touch. 

You kiss each other feverishly, you scrunch your eyes shut, letting the pleasure take control, letting him slam his fingers in and out of your pussy, causing tears to build up in your eyes from the hot intensity. 

“Let go for me,” he whispers against your lips, “cum for me.” 

One more thrust and a deeper swipe against your clit has you crying out his name in pleasure and this time, he lets you shut your legs around his arm, though that doesn’t stop him from moving his fingers still. 

Stars flash in your vision and the wind gets knocked out of you, the overwhelming high crashing over your body. 

“S-Steve,” you whimper. 

“Yes?” He kisses your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” 

“Me?” He smirks, licking his lips as he looks down, watching the way your thighs are shaking already. “How do you want me? Tell me, honey.”

You are so deep in your pleasure, no shame, no shyness exists for you in this very moment. You are so eager to feel him the way you’ve been craving him for weeks now. 

“I want your cock, Steve–” You whine, tugging at his hair. “Please fuck me!” 

He chuckles darkly, eyes growing five shades darker, something in him awakens, something that had never been there before, not even the night of Vickie’s party. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, fighting the urge to stick them into your mouth and make you lick and suck on them. He grabs your hips and manhandles you on your stomach, knocking the breath out of you again. He slaps your ass and gropes it roughly. 

“Stevie!” 

“Get on all fours for me.” 

You whine, gripping the sheets underneath you tightly as you look back at him over your shoulder, nearly pouting at him but he only slaps your ass again. 

“C’mon Blondie, wanted me to breed you, we gotta do it the right way.” 

His fingers are still coated with your slick as he pushes his sweatpants and boxers down, making his dick slap against his stomach, pre cum rolls down his length, his tip is red, he is aching for you and twitching in anticipation, knowing that he gets to fuck you without a condom.  

Steve expects you to push yourself up on your hands and knees but instead, you worsen his hunger by pressing your front against the mattress and pushing your ass up, presenting yourself to him. 

“Holy fuck,” he curses, biting back the growl that threatens to fall from his lips as he takes in the sight of you. Your pussy glistens, the arch in your back is deep, your ass up high and you look over your shoulder again, giving him a pout and desperate eyes as you beg him to fuck you and fill you up. 

The hunger in him is insatiable, he already knows it, he will never get enough of this, he will never get enough of you and he doesn’t mind, not even after last night’s realization and how easy it could now be for you to crush his heart — it’s yours now. 

He wishes that he could take a picture of this and keep it in his wallet. 

He moves closer to you, grabbing your ass and sliding his palms over your cheeks before he grips your hip tightly, slipping his already soaked fingers through your folds, he gathers your slick and uses it as lubricant to stroke his dick before he presses himself against you, pressing his lips together as he looks down at your pussy. 

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he murmurs as he teases you with his tip, circling it around your dripping entrance, moaning at the sight of it. 

“P-Please,” you whimper, pressing your ass back against him, prompting him to hold your hip even tighter as he slips his length through your wet folds, continuing to tease you and himself.  “Just fuck me already!” 

The tone in your voice is nowhere near demanding, it’s anything but that, you're whiny and desperate – you are showing a sight only he is allowed to see. 

The excitement is burning in him, his own desperation eating at him. Seeing you like this makes him want to do things he has never done before. His fingers dig into your flesh and he sucks in a sharp breath as he slowly pushes into you. 

Your name falls from his lips in a moan, his eyelashes flutter as the pleasure finally envelopes him. With one hand on your hip and the other now grabbing your ass, he inches inside of you, groaning at the sight of your puffy lips around his length. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, gripping the sheets tightly and shutting your eyes as you feel him splitting you open. 

“You’re taking me so fucking good, baby,” he praises you, smacking his palm against your cheek once again, making you jerk and gasp in pleasure. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

Your stomach flutters at his words, as your walls do around his length, causing him to moan as he pushes in deeper and deeper until he’s buried inside of you, completely. 

“Y-Yes, Steve!” You cry out. “I’m your good girl!”

You are both doing things and saying words you never thought you’d ever use, whether it’s the pleasure that is controlling you both, the desperation or something in the atmosphere but neither of you care, this is nice, this is perfect. 

“That’s right,” he growls as he pulls out and slams back in, making you cry out his name. 

Steve starts rolling his hips, roughly and desperately, picking up the pace with every thrust, making you both moan and whimper in pleasure. His cock hitting deep in every right spot, making you drool already. 

You hold onto the sheets, your eyes roll back as filthy sounds fall from your lips. You want to look back and watch him, see how good he looks fucking you like this but you find no energy to lift yourself up or turn your head. Your chest is pressed against the mattress beneath you, Steve’s hands feel so right on your hips, molding into your skin so perfectly. Waves of pleasure crash over you, making you arch your back even further, giving him an even deeper angle. 

You gasp in surprise, eyes shooting open when his large palm smacks against your flesh again. 

“You’re so filthy, honey,” Steve moans, his eyes nearly roll back as he feels your tight walls clench around him, prompting him to hold you tighter and fuck you harder, snapping his hips against your ass. “Letting me fuck you like this, wanting me to cum in this tight little pussy.” 

You feel his throbbing length, the veins on his cock, his balls slapping against your sensitive skin, the roughness of his touch and the eagerness in his voice – it overwhelms you in the best way possible, especially when you feel him growing more and more desperate the closer he gets to his high. 

“Y-Your cock feels so good!” You whimper, your head falling and your eyes closing, tears slipping from your eyes. 

“Yeah?” He breathes as he looks down at the way he is slamming in and out of you, his length glistening with your slick, your wet walls hugging his dick perfectly. You keep clenching around him, making him throb and twitch inside of you, making him whine in a way he isn’t sure he ever did before – but one thing is for sure, Steve had never felt anything like this before, and he knows he never will again after you. “Your pussy feels like fucking heaven.”

Your walls flutter around him, drool slips past your lips and down on the rumpled bed sheets, you can feel your second high approaching, you can feel the tension in your stomach, the ache in your clit. 

Steve fucks you mercilessly, dragging you back and forth on the mattress as though you are his personal fucktoy. And for a moment, you both don’t share any words, only your moans of desperation and need fill the room, the wet sounds of his dick slamming into your weeping pussy, the bed creaking beneath you, and the occasional smacks against your ass. 

His hair clings to his sweaty forehead, his cheeks are glowing red, and he doesn’t know where to look, he wants to see your face, he wants to keep staring at the way his dick disappears into you – this feels surreal, like it’s something that came straight out of his dreams. 

He feels the need to make you scream, so he slides his hand under you, his fingers finding your clit with ease, he begins to play with your sensitive nub as he changes his pace to slower but deeper and harsher. 

You gasp and twitch beneath him, trying to push yourself up only to fall back down again, the sight of it making him chuckle darkly. 

“Steve!” You scream out, feeling just how sensitive you are when he rubs your clit faster. “I-I’m so close!”

He can’t help himself when he leans down and presses his lips against your shoulder blades, murmuring against your skin, “do it, cum around my cock, baby.” 

Stars and tears blur your vision, the feeling of his lips on your skin only adding to the pleasure, the softness of it a stark contrast to the harshness of his thrusts, the sweet nickname and the swipe against your clit throwing you over the edge completely and you’re suddenly cumming and screaming out for him. 

“B-Baby,” he murmurs in a mix of a whimper and a growl, hands flying back to your hips, he grabs you tightly as he feels your walls clinging to him, making him shudder. “I’m gonna… fuck…” He groans, going to pull out, out of instinct. “I need to–”

“Cum inside of me, Stevie!” You sob as his fingers still move against your clit. “Please, please, please!” 

He can’t even control it, your words hit him so hard and he suddenly cums, hard. He spills inside of you with a loud moan and a whimper of your name, he paints your walls white and he keeps moving, even as his eyes roll back and he grows sensitive. All of this turns him on even more, not even after he reaches his high, if anything, his hunger is even more insatiable now. 

He slows his thrusts and he breathes heavily, his eyes are still clouded with lust, moans still falling as he takes in the sound of your whiny whimpers. 

Steve licks his lips as he pulls out after a moment, despite not wanting to but the vision in front of him is so worth it, his cum leaks out of your pussy and starts to roll down your thighs. He doesn’t know what gets over him when an animalistic growl falls from his lips and he gathers his cum with his fingers and pushes it back inside of you. 

“Don’t wanna let any of it go to waste,” he smirks when you whine even louder. 

You’re surprised and incredibly turned on by his action, you have to press your shaking thighs together, the ache in your center growing bigger despite the two orgasms you just had.

“Steve…”

Steve is staring at your pussy, at the way you’re sucking his fingers in, at the mess he made of you, how can he not grow hard all over again? 

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” he murmurs under his breath. 

He pushes his fingers in and out of you, admiring the way he pushes his cum deeper back inside of you – somehow the thought of what could happen if you didn’t have an IUD turns him on even more. Steve keeps going, using the same slow pace for a while, getting lost in you before he snaps back as your whimper tears him back into reality – but he wants more, he needs more, and he decides to keep you here with him, all day.

“I got you,” he whispers, pulling his fingers out and cleaning them off on his messed up sheets before he starts kissing up your body, letting his lips linger on your shoulder before he wraps his arm around you and flips you over on your back. 

His lust filled eyes intensify when he sees the tears pooling on your lower lash line, the needy look in your own eyes. He cups your cheek and presses his lips against yours for a short kiss, craving more of you. 

You reach your arm out weakly, and kiss him back, savoring this moment for as long as you can before he pulls away again and collapses on the bed beside you, he places his hand on your thigh, keeping it there as he starts breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. 

Silence falls over the both of you, you stare up at the ceiling, too speechless to speak, too stunned with what just happened. 

His fingertips stroke your skin, your heart is pounding in your chest, your legs quivering as his cum leaks out of you, making you press your thighs together. 

You can’t believe that you would ever be turned on by something like this, that you’d ever be here, that you’d ever do something like this with him. 

You want more and more. 

You blink, a lazy smile tugging at your lips, the fluttering in your heart and stomach taking over again. 

“So…” Steve mumbles, turning his head to look at you, to admire your beautiful side profile, “can we discard the condom from now on?” 

“Only if you wrap it up for… others,” you mumble, wincing at your own words as you don’t want to ruin the moment for yourself by thinking of this. 

Steve furrows his brows, smile falling a little. 

You think that there are others? 

You think that he could even think of being with someone else, let alone like this? 

He squeezes your thigh reassuringly, “there are no others, don’t worry about it.” He says softly. 

Your features soften and a weight falls off your shoulders and your heart, and still you can’t help but feel surprised about his confession. 

“You are the only one, Blondie.” 

He wants you dead. 

You are so sure of it, Steve Harrington wants you dead. 

Why else would he say such words to you? 

“O-Oh?” 

Steve is so in bliss, he doesn’t even notice the blush in your cheeks and the quivering tone in your voice.

“Yeah, and what about you?” 

You turn your head to look at him, you lock your eyes with his. 

What about you? 

You can never touch another man again, that is for sure. No matter what the outcome of this thing between you will be, you’re ruined, utterly ruined. 

You blink, heat flushing over your body the longer you look at him, at his messy hair that you always want to bury your fingers in, the hazel in his eyes that is now your favorite color, his puffy lips that you want to kiss, moles you want to count and trace with the tips of your fingers. 

God, he is beautiful. 

“There are no others for me either,” you whisper, feeling exposed and vulnerable to admit it to him. 

The smile that appears on his face catches you off guard, he seems… happy about it? 

And he is, he truly is. 

Steve doesn’t want you to be with anyone else, he doesn’t want you to see other men, kiss them or let them touch you the way he is allowed to. He wants to be the only one for you, he wants to be your only one. 

He squeezes your thigh again, scooting closer to you, he eyes your face and lets them linger on your lips. 

“Guess we’re exclusive then huh?” He asks with a smirk on his lips. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, hope flickering inside of you, the anxiety you felt over thoughts of him with other girls diminishing just like that. 

You try to act normal, like you aren’t fazed by his words, like your heart didn’t burst, like this isn’t anything special. 

You clear your throat, “seems like it.” 

He chuckles, hiding the happiness that flutters in him. 

This is what he wants, this is what he has been craving for a while now, to have you all to himself, to be the only to touch you, to taste you, to fuck you, to fill you up and claim you as his own. 

“You got anything to do today, Blondie?” 

“I uh… I was gonna meet up with Eddie—“

“Cancel it.” 

You raise your brows in surprise, confusion flashes in your features but your heart slips a beat when you see the darkening in his eyes again and the feeling of his hand gripping you tighter and harder. 

“What?”

He moves closer and closer until his lips are on your jaw and he tilts your head to the side so he can kiss your neck, nibbling at your skin and pressing his hand against your sensitive core again. 

“Cancel. It.” He rasps into your neck. 

A gasp tears from your lips when he slips his fingers back into your pussy, morning at the feeling of his cum inside of you. 

“You don’t need anyone but me today,” he whispers as he presses another kiss against your neck and curls his fingers inside of you. 

You bite your lip and moan when he spreads your legs with his free hand, his long fingers pushing deeper into you — you are so sensitive, so overstimulated but just like him, you can’t get enough, you want more. 

“Steve…” 

“Mhmm.” He murmurs against your neck, peppering kisses along your skin, “I know, baby. I’m gonna take good care of you.” 

And taking good care he did. He fingered you in bed until you saw stars, mesmerized by how his own spent worked as lube, mixed with your own juices. You felt exhausted after that, so he drew a bath for you and even helped you wash your hair, knowing your limbs were all tired out.

But he couldn’t have enough of you. Not when you got into his mustard sweater because you felt a little chilly, leaving your legs bare. He wanted to give you more time to relax but he couldn’t help himself while making lunch, so he had to bend you over the kitchen counter to make you scream again.

Overstimulation was very much present, to the both of you, but you couldn’t stop. You wanted to feel him and he wanted to feel you. It felt intimate, and private, but most of all… it felt… hopeful.

Hopeful that, even if you spent a whole day fucking, that this new development means something. Hopeful that this exclusivity is real and will go on until he decides to actually take the leap, to actually fight for what he wants again. Hopeful that he feels the same as you do. That you two would not do this with anyone else, but with each other.

But those thoughts can be for another day. For tomorrow. Maybe the day after, because right now, as he hugs you in the middle of the night, laying in bed, dinner devoured, and one last round of feeling one another, you feel your heart be calm for the first time in a while. 

Because for the first time ever you actually feel it. Genuine. True. It is no longer a mere word that you discard, no longer a word that sits in the back of your mind, thinking you would be so stupid to actually let yourself feel that.

But this night, you swore you felt something at the top of your head that you are sure you didn’t make it up. You felt a press at the top of it. A kiss. A good night kiss from his part as he kept rubbing circles on your lower back. This is not the same Steve from a month ago. This is not the same you from a month ago. You two are not the same as a month ago. 

So you let yourself feel it. Embrace it. And maybe… maybe it will grow more at some point that it might give you the courage to take that definite step.

You felt confident.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

[claypgeons]

the golf cart

paring: max verstappen x reader, oscar piastri x reader, charles leclerc x reader.

warning: scrapped knees, stealing a golf cart, fluff, kinda short.

summary: you ‘steal’ a golf cart, it goes as well as anyone could expect.

part of living the life ! series

notes: request for this series are open! please send them! i need ideas :)) reblogs comments and likes are all always greatly appreciated <33

“Are you just going to leave the keys there?” You looked by at the intern from where you were sitting in the Red Bull garage, he had just driven a golf cart- used to travel drivers- into the Red Bull garage. Max was somewhere, doing something, and you didn’t have to do anything important, for atleast two hours.

“Yeah?” the intern drew out, “Should I take them with me?” he panicked slightly, he was obviously new at his job, and you only felt slightly guilty about what you were going to do.

“No, no,” you reassured him, standing up, and wiping the dust off your butt. The intern nodded slightly, looking hesitant before walking away. You beamed at the opportunity, you looked around, making sure nobody was looking at you. Thankfully, they were all focused on placing the final touches on Max’s car. 

Quickly, and as quietly, you hopped into the golf cart, turning it on. Shutting your eyes tightly, looking around making sure nobody had heard. 

Smiling, you slowly drove out onto the track, laughing loudly once you were officially out on the track, “Hell yeah…” you whispered.

You sped up, driven further and further away from the Red Bull garage. The stands of people got louder, it seemed like some had already recognized you. 

“Hey! What the fuck!” you heard a loud yell behind you, seems like Red Bull employees had also noticed you. 

“Sorry!” you yelled back, although the big smile on your face, made your apology seem really fake. 

The fans in the stand got louder, all cheering and taking videos. You waved your hand as a princess would do, smile getting bigger. 

“Hello!” you beamed, although you knew they wouldn’t hear you. 

“YN!” you heard a voice in the cart, eyebrows furrowed you looked around, confused, “Oh,” you laughed, realizing it was the radio, “Y/N can you hear me?” 

Picking up the microphone, the ones police officers use, you held down the side button, still waving at fans, “Yes I can! Hello!” 

“Y/N..” the man sounded exhausted, you could only imagine he was rubbing his forehead in despair, “Please turn the cart around.” 

“I’ll only do one lap I swear!” and with that, you placed the microphone down, that was, until you heard the grumpy voice of your manager, Mark Webber, “Y/N pick up the damn mic.” 

You shook your head vigorously as if he could see you, well he probably could, with the amount of cameras you had on yourself. “You’re not in trouble.” he sighed, “I promise.” 

Huffing, you picked up the mic, now halfway through the track, “Yes?” 

“Why would you steal a cart?” he got straight to it, “Just..why?”

“I was…” you coughed awkwardly, speeding up as fast as it could go, which seems to be 20 mph, “Bored.” 

“Bored? You were BORED?” Mark yelled into the mic, “DON’T YELL AT M!E!” you yelled back, eyebrows furrowed in anger. 

Mark sighed, you could hear Landos laugh in the background, and you wondered what Oscar was doing. “Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. But you need to come back.” 

“I’m almost back.” You said as you went on the last turn, it was sharp, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to fully make it, and of course, you were right, because just a second later, the golf cart was on its side, with you in it. 

You heard the crowd go silent. A complete 360 to how happy they were a second ago. You laughed, standing up with bleeding knees, of course, today was the day you decided to wear shorts, “I’m okay!’ you announced loudly, thankfully the silence made it so at least some people could hear you, and with some of the crowd cheering, the rest soon followed, even if some of them didnt know what they were cheering for. 

Turning, you saw a huge group of people running toward you, Mark Webber included. Uh oh. 

… 

“It’s just scrapped knees,” you mumbled, looking up at Oscar who was passing up and down, in the family and friends area, you now had bandages on both of your knees and were waiting for the on-site doctor to clear you for racing. 

“I just don’t.” Oscar sighed, sitting next to you, “I don’t understand why you would do that.” 

You smiled, but before you could respond, you heard a strong dutch accent coming from your left, “She’s done worse.” Max smiled, coming over to you, Charles not far behind. 

He leaned in for a quick kiss, not caring if anyone around saw, after almost three years of being together, you could say he was the most tired of hiding your relationship. He sat on your right, opposite Oscar, while Charles, laughed standing in front of you, “Yeah, she has.”

“Do they hurt bad?” Max looked down at your knees, “Not much.” you mumbled, snapping your head up to the sound of people walking over to you, it was the doctor, Mark, and Lando. 

“You are clear to race.” The doctor started, you beamed, sitting up straighter, “But you should change your bandage right before and after the race.” he told you, before walking away with Mark. 

“Told you it was going to be fine.” You placed a comforting hand on Oscar’s knees, Lando stood by Charles, looking down at you with a frown,” How are we going to party later?” Ah yes, you and Lando were quite the party animals.

“I can take shots sitting down.” 

…

“So, Y/N,” the interviewer started, smiling at you. It was now hours later, the race had finished, with Lando - unexpectedly- winning his first race, and you coming in fourth. Oscar had helped you rebandage your knees before you went off to do interviews. “I think we all saw the golf cart incident.” she laughed, and you nodded, “Would you like to explain that…?” 

“I mean..” you thought, “I don’t think there’s much to explain, I took a golf cart and went on a joy ride, it was quite fun.”

— y/n had posted new pictures!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 883,288 others !

yntheracer: scrapped knees, lando winning, taking shots sitting down. i’d say it was a successful day!

view more comments below!

landonorris: SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS

yntheracer: LANDO NORRIS THE RACE WINNER !!!!!!

user: lando and yns relationship is something i hold very dear to me

user: it was a very adventurous day for y/n

yntheracer: indeed it was !!!

oscarpiastri: please enever steal a golf cart again 😓

yntheracer: no promises :D

user: lando and y/n siting in a tree…

[beskarandblasters]

I Don't Wanna Keep Secrets Just To Keep You

Part Three of Time, Wondrous Time

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Chapter summary: You come to terms with your feelings for Cooper. Later, you share an intimate moment at The Man From Deadhorse cast party.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a dress + makeup, unspecified age gap, jealousy, drinking, dub con/consent under the influence, !!! sweaty Cooper !!!, hair pulling (Cooper’s), oral sex (M and F receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, cum swallowing, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart), angst, no use of y/n

That one fateful night led you headfirst into a secret affair. The first night could’ve been nothing but a fluke, a one-time slip-up as a result of a poor decision. But it’s really the second time that confirms the undeniable attraction you two have for one another. The affair lasts through the rest of the shoot. You fall into a routine of getting together at night after the workday is done, always in his trailer and never on weekends. It always ends with you two lying with each other, talking about life. He shares his misgivings about his wife and her job at Vault-Tec. He’s a paranoid man but based on what he told you, you can’t blame him. 

As the end of shooting draws near, you form a pit in your stomach. A sense of dread and longing looms over you. What if you never have nights like these again? What if this is your first and last production working with Cooper Howard? And now that the end is in sight, you realize you have a serious problem…

You’re head over heels in love with him. It’s driving you crazy, craving a man who will never truly be yours. You want more than just his midnights. You want his mornings, his weekends– you want him all the time. In the countless nights you’ve spent with him in his trailer, he’s shown you colors you’ve never seen before. It makes you sick, thinking about the hold he has on you. 

But you wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the whole world. 

-

It’s the last day of the shoot. These past couple of months have flown by. You thought by now you’d be upset to lose your sense of community. But the truth is, you never felt like you were fully integrated into this environment. You joined the crew about halfway through the production when there were already pockets of established groups and cliques. It’s ironic to think about, the leading man being the only person to welcome you with open arms. You never expected him to even give you the time of day and yet here you are, sharing secrets under the cover of night, sweaty limbs intertwined paired with labored breaths. Those nights were fleeting moments of bliss. You wish you had appreciated them a bit more. And now that the shoot is wrapping up, you’re not sure when you’ll ever get moments like that again. 

After a long, hot, tiring day, Emil finally calls wrap. Everyone is packing up when Emil calls everyone for an announcement. 

“I know it’s been a long day and you all want to get home to your families but I just have an announcement I’d like to make,” Emil says. “This has been a long shoot, a lot longer than I intended it to be, and to celebrate I’m having a party for the cast and crew Saturday night at seven. If you need my address, find me before you leave. Thanks, everyone!”

A party for the cast and crew. 

You get butterflies in your stomach, thinking about the possibility of seeing Cooper outside of the studio. You can only assume Barb will be there, too. But it’s worth hearing his voice and seeing his smile, at least one more time. Saturday can’t come soon enough.

You make sure to get Emil’s address before hanging back like you always do. You’re not sure if you’ll get to see Cooper in his trailer again. You can only hope since it’s the last day. But you’ve never talked about what will happen to you now that the shoot’s wrapped up. A sinking feeling in your gut tells you that your relationship will end after tonight. 

You wander aimlessly while you wait for Cooper, reminiscing on your time here and most importantly with him. You turn and glance over your shoulder, watching as Cooper walks towards you, out of costume and in his regular clothes. You smile when you see him but he doesn’t match yours, his mouth forms into a tight frown. 

“Everything alright?” you ask as he approaches you. 

“I can’t stay tonight.”

“No worries,” you lie, already fighting the urge to cry. 

“Something came up with Janey.”

“I hope everything’s okay.”

“It’ll be fine. She’s just sick and Barb has some big meeting with the executives at Vault-Tec tonight. Babysitter’s not available on short notice.”

“Sounds important.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.”

“I’ll see you on Saturday, sweetheart,” he says, turning and walking away.

“You’re going?!”

“Of course I am!” he calls over his shoulder, walking to the parking lot. 

So much for one last time together. 

-

The shoot wrapped up on a Thursday so luckily you only had to wait a day before Saturday rolled around. After spending an exorbitant amount of time on your makeup and outfit, you head to Emil’s house. You’re wearing one of your favorite dresses, a color that compliments your skin and hugs your body in all the right places. You pull up to Emil’s house, a huge mansion in the hills, overwhelmed at the sheer size of it but also expecting nothing less from him. 

His house is packed with everyone from the studio, letting loose over cocktails and cigarettes. For a minute, you feel like a deer in headlights, anxious about who to talk to and where to hang out. You spot Cooper across the living room, talking with a group of people you recognize. But you’re not comfortable enough to go over there and insert yourself in the conversation. To your delight, Barb isn’t with him. But before you get too excited, you remind yourself she could be elsewhere in the house. 

You get a drink from the wait staff in the kitchen and hang out in the corner of the living room, sipping your drink and awkwardly waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in. But you’re pulled from your pining when a man approaches you, drink in hand and wearing an uneasy smile. You vaguely recognize him. You’ve seen him around on set but you couldn’t place his name or what he does at the studio. 

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly.

“Hi.”

“I’ve seen you around on set.”

“Likewise.”

“I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Dan,” he says, holding out his hand. 

You reluctantly shake his hand and tell him your name, letting an uncomfortable silence fall between you two. 

“Actually, I… I wanted to tell you something else.”

“Shoot.”

“Well, I’ve always thought you were beautiful, and I…”

What’s he saying turns into white noise as your gaze fixates on Cooper again. To your surprise, Cooper’s looking right at you with his jaw clenched. Could he possibly be… jealous?

You look back at Dan who’s silent, waiting for your response. You blink a few times and say, “That’s sweet of you. But I’m not looking for anything right now.”

He opens his mouth to speak but before he can, you say, “Would you excuse me for a moment? I need some air.”

You push past him and make a beeline for the glass door across the living room. But before you can step outside, Emil stops you. 

“Hey! I just wanted to give you something,” he says, setting his drink down on a shelf and reaching inside his pocket. He pulls out a small envelope and continues, “Open this when you’re alone later.”

“Thanks,” you say, taking the envelope from him and putting it in your purse. 

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m okay. I just need some air. Thanks, Emil,” you respond, sliding past him. 

You head into the backyard, sitting on a lawn chair by Emil’s pool. The prospect of another man confessing his attraction to you just sends you further into Cooper’s arms, confirming how badly you want to be exclusive with him already. But you also wonder what could possibly be in that envelope Emil gave you. You go to open it but a voice stops you, an unmistakable voice. 

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You look up at him as he places a hand on your shoulder. He’s wearing concern all over his face. 

“That guy wasn’t bothering you, was he?”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s just a little overwhelming in there.”

“What do you say we go somewhere more private?”

“Where?”

He gestures across the pool with his head. You glance in that direction and spot a pool house, turning and looking at Cooper again with a smirk on your face. 

“You go first. I’ll meet you there.”

“Is Barb here?”

“Nope. She’s at a Vault-Tec dinner.”

Perfect. 

You walk over to the pool house, creeping the door open and poking your head inside, just to make sure no one’s inside. It’s bigger than it looks on the outside. You opt to turn on a lamp rather than the main overhead light. You don’t want to draw any extra attention. A large sectional sits in the middle of the room, complete with a bar cart at its side. You toss your purse on the couch and turn to peek into the bathroom, finding a full-blown sauna. 

Cooper joins you and closes the door to the pool house, putting a hand on the small of your back. 

“Impressed?”

“Uhh, yeah. This is wild.”

“Wanna use it?”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he says, turning up the dial. 

He starts taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. Before you get undressed you ask, “Are we going to get in trouble?”

“Hell no.”

“Are you sure?”

“Would you stop worrying so much?” he says, hands gravitating to your waist and pulling you close. He leans in and whispers in your ear, “Strip for me. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, turning around so he can unzip your dress. You peel off your clothes and kick off your shoes as the small wooden room heats up. A warm, earthy scent fills your senses. You look at him, his belt undone and his pants hanging low on his hips. 

“You’re gorgeous… But I’m sure you’re sick of me tellin’ you that all the time.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ll never get used to it,” you say, sitting on the bench. 

He gets down on his knees, pulling your thighs apart with his hands. Without warning, he dives face-first into your cunt, licking one long, slow trail up your entrance. A shiver runs down your spine as you take a deep breath, the woodsy aroma filling your lungs. You look down at him and find him staring directly at you. His tongue swirls around your pussy before he latches his mouth onto your clit, sucking with more and more pressure. He moans into you as he works you up to the edge. You reach between your legs and run your hand through his hair, gripping his locks as you teeter on the brink of orgasm. You tug on his hair every time his tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot. He’s already slick with sweat, forehead glistening in between your legs. Your moans and whimpers grow louder and stronger, coming out as choked-up sobs as he pushes you over the edge. Waves of pleasure wash over you, your cunt clenching around nothing while your thighs close around his head. He laps up the remnants of your release before sitting on the bench next to you, swiping his fingers across his jaw to collect the rest of your spend and popping them in his mouth. 

You trade places with him, sinking to the floor on your knees. One of your hands cups his balls as the other wraps around the base of his already hard cock. You waste no time taking him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock over and over again. He throws his head back and curses under his breath, bringing a hand to your face and caressing your cheek. You flash your eyes up at him, watching him go crazy for you. His jaw is slack and his pupils are wide, adoration written all over his face.

Just when you think he’s going to cum, he grabs your face and pulls his cock out of your mouth, “Not so fast.”

You stand up and turn around so your back is facing him, taking it upon yourself to sit on his cock. He curses again, wrapping his hands around your waist and playing with your nipples as you bounce up and down. 

“Such a good girl. Bouncing up and down on my cock like a fuckin’ angel.”

“Only for you.”

“That’s right,” he responds, letting one of his hands leave your waist to deliver a swift slap on your ass. 

Between bouncing yourself on his cock and grinding your hips back and forth, you’re well on your way to your second orgasm. Your wetness seeps out of you and coats his lap, making it easier to grind against his lap. With one last motion of your hips, you cum around his cock, feeling truly full. You lean back against his chest, both of your bodies hot and drenched with sweat. Aftershocks of your orgasm rip through you, making you shudder. His hands roam up and down your body, leaving no part of you ignored. But he can only hold off his orgasm for so long. He grabs your hips and coaxes you to get up, ordering you to get on your knees again. 

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

You face him with your mouth open, tongue sticking out as he strokes himself. Soon enough, he’s coming into your mouth with a guttural moan. You swallow his release before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You crawl into his lap and wrap yourself around him, always listening for his wild heartbeat. Both of you are completely covered in sweat, but it’s not gross. It’s a pleasant aroma of his natural scent mixed with the woodsy fragrance of the sauna. It’s a scent you could get addicted to if you’re not careful enough. He strokes your back, kissing your head and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 

Tilting your head, you look up at his face. “Were you… jealous of that guy earlier?”

“Who? Dan?”

“Mhm. You look like you would have punched him right then and there,” you tease. 

“No one flirts with my girl.”

Those two words. My girl. That’s all you wanted to hear him say over these past few months. But then reality settles in. Dan doesn’t know you’re Cooper’s girl. 

You think about where you are and remember that you’ll have to leave the pool house separately. You remember that he can only call you sweetheart in secret. You remember that he’s just… not truly yours. 

The affair’s been fun and all but it’s just been placating you from what you’ve been craving this whole time– exclusivity. You want to be more than his dirty little secret. You want his Friday nights and his Sunday mornings. You want to eat dinner with him every night. You want to go on dates. You want to walk red carpets with him and listen to him gush about you in interviews. You want him to show you off. 

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” he asks. He must’ve sensed you going abnormally still and quiet. 

You pull back and look at him, worry written on his face. What you want to tell him is on the tip of your tongue. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. 

“I’m fine,” you lie. 

“Okay,” he says, cupping your face again. “We should probably get showered and dressed. I have no idea how long we’ve been in here.”

“Right,” you nod, pulling yourself off of him no matter how hard it is. You reach for your clothes and walk into the shower. He does the same and turns off the sauna. You turn on the water, letting steam fill the walk-in shower before getting inside. He gets in with you, chest pressed against your back. He grabs the bottle of shower gel and creates a lather in his hand, rubbing it up and down your body as you relax. He’s careful to not ruin your makeup like a true gentleman. Once you’re clean you do the same for him, washing each other in comfortable silence. The end looms over your head but you choose not to focus on it. You choose to focus on the few fleeting moments you have left. 

He turns off the water and grabs a towel, helping you dry off and get dressed. And soon enough, you’re both dressed again as if what happened in the sauna never occurred, except for your makeup that’s a little sweat-ridden. Before you part ways he kisses you, soft and sweet, telling you good night before slipping back out into the party. 

You grab your purse off the couch and remember the envelope Emil gave you. Now that you’re alone you open it, finding a handwritten card that says;

Just wanted to say thank you. You really saved our asses with this production. As a token of my gratitude, here are two tickets to The Man From Deadhorse premiere. 

-Emil

The two tickets slip out of the card. You glance at the date and see it’s not until January of next year, four months from now. Regardless, that was nice of him. When you signed up to work on the film you never thought you’d be able to attend the premiere. Your stomach swirls at the thought of seeing Cooper all dressed up on the red carpet but then it sinks when you remember he’ll be with Barb. 

You shove the envelope and the tickets back in your purse, glancing at the room once more. Once you turn off the light, you leave the pool house, dragging your feet as you walk back to your car. The reality of the situation is sinking in now– that was probably the last time you’ll see Cooper for a while. And maybe it’s the alcohol or the post-sex hormones talking but you could break down and cry at any given moment. But you don’t give in until you’re alone in the comfort of your car, cursing the man who welcomed you with open arms on your first day on set. 

End note: This series is five parts now because I’m an indecisive idiot 🤧🤧 This is also some of my favorite smut I’ve ever written?!?!? And thank you to @clawdee for beta reading and telling me I needed to make Cooper sweatier 😏

If you like my work, consider supporting me on Ko-fi 🤍

Check out the series playlist! 🎶

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Tag list: @widowmakerow @bisasterbisexual @wowitsem @vegetarianvamp @celestial-vomit @ghoulsimper @anyzandy @justfoxymuffins @hobnob2020 @fallout-girl219 @ipostwhtifeel @awhoresjourney @the-faceless-bride @birdieofloxley @raviolisenpai

[k3n-dyll]

||Men, minors, and ageless DNI

CW: 18+, wlw, fem!reader, pure smut, oral (r!recieving), fingering (r!recieving), cheating, arranged marriage mentioned, southern accent, Abby is implied to be a criminal for like a second, getting caught Word Count: 1,186 || Masterlist || Divider creds || Palestine Links

Notes ☆ Some 1800s cowgirl Abby smut to hold y'all over while I get the similarly set series started (I'm being nitpicky about my writing). Also, didn't mean for this to be long lol

➳ If you allow yourself to linger on the thought for a moment - to do a bit of mental gymnastics for the sake of getting this nagging feeling of guilt and shame to subside - this really isn't your fault.

Truly. It isn't. It's theirs.

You weren't the one that wanted to marry, and you sure as hell wouldn't have chosen this suitor of all of them. That was your pious father. Good intentions aside, he was the one that confined you to this life.

And your sorry excuse for a husband, well, he took the other half of the blame. He's never home, and when he is the man always seems to have more important things to do. Not that you really want his attention anyway, but still, it'd be nice to at least speak to the person you're forced to live with. Aside from when he wants to be inside of you, of course.

If not for them you wouldn't even be here.

If only your father hadn't mettled with your marriage status - let you become some sort of spinster instead. If your scraggly bearded husband had simply kept his shady business dealings in the back of a bar instead of inviting them to his home - her large, calloused hands wouldn't be caught so tightly around your hips. You wouldn't be sitting in the head chair of the office you weren't technically allowed to be in, but the one you had renovated, all the same, eyeing the perpetually unfinished paperwork on his desk in a sad attempt to keep yourself grounded.

"You taste so fuckin' good, y'know that?"

Abby's voice and the warm, wet feeling of her tongue dragging along your slit bring you out of your own head, hips bucking up slightly at the contact you've been all but whining for, while she just nipped and kissed at your inner thighs. You look down at the blonde positioned snugly between your legs with a furrowed brow, trying your best to seem disapproving though the moans you let out tell a different story.

Who does she think she is? Popping up at your front door in the middle of the day, knowing damn well your husband wasn't home from work. This had only happened a few times before and even so, you knew why she'd come over the moment you saw the smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips when you confirmed that the man of the house was out for the day.

She wanted to fuck you in his office this time. Defile the sacred workplace of the man she calls a "friend" simply to make you uncomfortable.

Her piercing blues gaze right back into your eyes, and while half her face is hidden underneath the fabric of your skirts, you can tell that smug smile is back by the way her eyes crinkle right before they close.

It's the last you see of her freckled face before your head is tossed back in pleasure, sinful moans flooding from your parted lips as she laps at your cunt. No amount of guilt or shame would ever make you feel low enough to tell her to stop - not when her tongue makes you squirm and twitch in ways your betrothed could only ever dream of doing.

Abby never fails to make herself seem like a woman starved, messily licking and sucking at your pulsing, puffy clit, slurping you up as if you were her first and last ever meal on this Earth.

And she'd be damned if she let you breathe for even a second.

She wants to hear you gasping, gulping for air before she allows herself to pull away and she does more even then. Pushing through a sore jaw and aching fingers without complaint for as long as you could handle it.

"A-Abby... can't take much more" You whine, your thighs squeezing onto either side of her flushed face as you gently palm at the top of her head.

A high-pitched whine escapes your throat at the curl of the two thick fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, a low, amused growl coming from Abby at the sound.

"Aw, c'mon baby. Y'got another one in there for me, don't you? You and I both know you won't get to feel this good for a long while once I'm gone" she speaks in that soft, honey-like tone that makes you weak in the knees. The gentle southern drawl laced within her every syllable sending shivers through your body at the sound alone. Looking down at her is a mistake you never fail to make in this circumstance. She knows what a simple look from her can do to you and she takes advantage of it without remorse, chuckling as she watches you nod in response.

"Atta girl" She lands a quick smack on your thigh before diving back into you, a concoction of spit and slick spilling down her chin and wetting the inner fabrics of your skirt, the only sound to accompany the smacking and sucking against your pussy being your whorish cries.

Your breathing becomes quicker and more shallow when you're close. Eyes glazing over as your jaw slacks, brows knitted together in desperation for another orgasm. Your tells are so predictable, yet so incredibly delicious to Abby. This is a state only she gets to see you in. Not that you've ever confirmed it aloud for her but it's clear to her that the pompous ass you're married to can't even make you cum.

"Say it, darlin'. C'mon, you know what I wanna hear" Abby growls, popping up from underneath your skirt, detaching her lips from around your clit, and replacing them with her thumb just to speak. Just to taunt you. You do know what she wants to hear, and part of you wants to roll your eyes at the thought. Maybe you would have if your head wasn't so blank. If you weren't so aware that she'd stop pumping her fingers inside of you completely if you didn't give her the satisfaction, maybe you would be so bold as to give her attitude.

"Only you - fuck! Only you can make me feel like this"

Abby chuckles

"Oh, I know, sweet thing. Now cum for me"

Your orgasm is blinding and loud. So much so that you don't even hear the front door open from downstairs. Nor do you hear the footsteps that follow, too occupied with rutting yourself onto her fingers, gushing with each snap of your hips. Abby is just as oblivious, lifting up from her place between your thighs to crash her lips onto yours, too focused on wanting you to taste yourself on her tongue to even notice the jingling office door doorknob.

It's only when you both hear the old door begin slowly creaking open that your attention is snatched from one another, expressions shifting from ones of lust and satisfaction to pure horror as you both make eye contact with the twisted-up, angry face of the man you had just slandered aloud. Your husband. Back home early from work

Shit.

Thanks for reading ☆ Reblogs appreciated

Taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery

[cheriladycl01]

The Big Mercedes Debate - George Russell x JapaneseOlympicCross-CountrySkiing! Reader

Plot: Ski-Trip with George, Toto, Suzie and Jack where your all discussing the future of Mercedes, and how an Olympic Cross- Country Skiier can help.

Credit to blimeygeorge for the GIF

"She's really good" Suzie complements as she watches you zoom ahead on your guy's ski run. You were all cross country skiing through the mountains.

You were set to try out snowboarding tomorrow as despite having an affinity for snow related sports, you'd never tried it. But as of right now you were doing what you did best, skiing.

You slowed down a few times to let the others catch up and you helped Jack become more steady of his ski's, holding his hand as you slowly went down some little slopes as he giggled overtime he got something right and you congratulated him on it.

George couldn't help but admire the way you acted with Jack, and it was one of those pivotal moments in a relationship where you knew that your partner was in fact 'the one'. He was grinning from ear to ear, not that anyone could see that behind his balaclava and mask.

After a morning of skiing, Jack started to get hungry and was tugging at the sleeve of your jacket, begging to go on your back and ski to the lodge really really quickly just so he could get his filling.

"Ah, not we have to wait for mummy, daddy and George so we can all go together. But I promise you if you can hold out while we all ski back I'll make you a hot chocolate tonight?"

"Extra cream and marshmallows?" he asks with a grin and you nod your head before you all continue down to where you can all grab something to eat.

"So Toto, how's finding George's team-mate going?" you ask after taking a bite of your sandwich and wiping your mouth clean of the crumbs and any sauce that remained.

"Y/N!" George scolds shaking his head as if you'd just brought up something really taboo.

"George, leave her alone it's fine!" his boss laughs, looking between the two of you.

"We've got options, and that's led to rumors as you've probably already seen!" he laughs taking a sip of his coffee.

"Mmmm, the Max one made me laugh!" you smile taking another bite before everyone went silent.

"Wait ... are you being fucking serious?" you say covering Jack's ears up so he doesn't hear the swears, making him giggle and swat your hands away.

"Well, Max and I have had conversations... I wont deny that" he smirks and looks at you.

"Shut up, tell me everything!" You squeal looking between Toto and Suzie.

"Well, Max has been in a championship car for the last few years and it's been rumored for a while that Adrian was leaving Red Bull and I you know, every option is possible. I don't think he would take my offer, but there's loads of other options, Carlos, Alex, Kimi ... we are looking at Frederick, Mick etc" he smiles, knowing there was options it was just tough choosing.

"Yeah, you've got a lot of good options... I think Kimi needs to be given a change in the feeder series though, let him at least have a full season in F2 before committing anything!" you admit nonchalantly.

"Damn, hoping i was going to go for Max Verstappen 2.0!" Toto laughs, smiling and wrapping his arms around Jack who had climbed into his lap.

"Mmmm he's a special case. Don't think anyone can recreate what he's done ..." you smile.

"Well, I think Alex would be really good as my team-mate!" George admits putting his own input in.

"Mmmmm, now are you saying that because he's a good driver ... or because he's your best mate. Because I would not mind having Lily around more often!" you grin, having been close to Alex's girlfriend for a while.

"Alex hasn't shown much this season, him and Logan ... have kind of been on par!" Toto offers, preferring the stability of someone like Carlos.

"Yeah, but the Williams this year is trash. You can't expect much from the pair of them when they are in an unstable tractor! He's gone from a Red Bull to Williams, very very different" you joke knowing the Williams just wasn't as developed this year.

"Mmmm that's also true... say Y/N how does a Olympic Cross Country Skier from Japan have such an opinion on an F1 team" Suzie interjects.

"Well, I've got an amazing boyfriend who teaches me a lot!" you smile pulling George in for a kiss.

y/user

Liked by georgerussell63 and suziewolff

y/user: Family holiday while i look like P4 helping debate the future of Mercedes...

Tagged 3 people.

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georgerussell63: It's been a blast! I love you lots darling!

georgerussell63: you are so beautiful baby!

fan1: It's so funny that they are all on holiday as one big family while debating who will take that second Mercedes seat...

-> fan2: it's funny she has been included in the discussions lol, she's a cross country skier!

suziewolff: leave it to the girls to fix things eh?

-> fan3: MOTHERS!

-> fan4: is this confirming the future of Mercedes has been set?

fan5: Y/N to Merc 2025 confirmed

Instagram Story Caption

Georgie said I looked coquette 🎀🩰🌸🐰

TagList:

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[bookuce]

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book also uses the actual names of the wrestlers. Gionna is Liv, Austin is Xavier Woods, Josh is Jey Uso, Jon is Jimmy Uso, Trinity is Naomi, Alina is just Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO POST MY WORK ON ANY SITE*

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 2,297

PART ONE

PART TWO

“One! Two! Three!” Shouts the crowd. The bell would ring, signifying the end of the tag match. The Usos rolled out the ring quickly before an angry Street Profits could reach them. The tag match ended dirty. Montez’s shoulder was up, but the referee didn’t see it. Josh and Jon knew they got off without being caught and were celebrating on the ramp without care. They would eventually run to the back, vanishing behind the curtain.

Alina is informed to be at the gorilla for Josh and Jon for a backstage interview, and she can hear them as rowdy as ever, drawing near. They would pop out from the dark ramp, bouncing around with their championships in their hands. “Jimmy, Jey, can I get a word? What happened out there?” She says, catching their attention. Jon would drop his sweaty arm across her shoulders while Josh snatched the mic and her hand up.

“What happened out there? What happened out there, Uce, is that we won! Ain’t nothing else happened out there. The Street Profits thought they could hang with us, and what happened!”

“They got dropped!” Jon chimed in.

“They got dropped!” Josh repeats. “Ain’t no one taking these from us, Uce!”

“Yeet!”

“And if you think you got a chance,” Josh takes the mic out of Alina’s hands, blocking her from the camera. She took this as a chance to rid her hand of the sweat he left behind.

“Yeet!”

“You can get dropped too!”

“Yeet!”

“Cause at the end of the day, Uce, you the number twos, and we the ones!” Josh would end his promo with a raise of his pointer finger. His twin would follow suit before they both walked off towards the locker rooms. The cameraman would put his camera down, and the light on its head turned off.

“That was good.” Alex, the cameraman, would say, causing Alina to nod in agreement.

“Ay, Lina!��� Josh shouts from across the large hall. “We going out tonight! Don’t make no plans!” Every time they successfully defended their championships, they wanted to go out. Though their night was ending, Alina had to stick around for the last two matches in case the company needed her for backstage interviews.

“Too late!” She teases.

“Cancel that shit, Uce!” Jon shouts, making Alina chuckle softly.

“Text me the details!” She shouts back.

———————————————————————————

Alina didn’t do much clubbing anymore. As she got older, she noticed the club crowd got younger. At thirty-two years old, she just didn’t see the hype anymore. That and it always took her days to recover. Getting her out of the house or a hotel room wasn’t an easy accomplishment, but somehow, Josh could do it every time. Maybe it was because he would harass her until she said yes; He always knew how to make her say yes.

She didn’t like that, but he loved it.

Here she was, standing in a nightclub surrounded by sloshed party-goers, and she had no idea where her group was. What she did know was that she needed a drink. If she was going to be able to tolerate being here, she needed to join the masses. She moved through the crowd, her eyes fixated on the glowing bar at the back of the large room. She hadn’t received any text messages from Josh in over forty-five minutes. All he had to say the last time they spoke was that he was here. When she gets to the bar, she squeezes between two people. They didn't pay her any mind, but the bartender saw her just as she got in.

“What can I get for you?” He asks.

“Vodka sprite, please!” She answered. The bartender quickly moved from her sight to prepare her drink for her. While Alina waited, she took her phone out of her pocket. The screen lit up, showing that she still had no new messages. Her thumb swipes up to unlock it, tapping the messages icon immediately after. Josh’s name was at the top of her inbox, her last message still there. She’d click on the message thread to type up a new message.

Alina: Hey, I’m here at the bar.

The screen would go dark after she sent the message, but she would keep the phone in her hand. The bartender would return with her drink, a smile on his face. “Thank you.” She says. She’d hand over her debit card, allowing him to swipe it. He asked her if she would want to start a tab, but she’d declined. She knew her drinks were on Josh once he found her. She glanced down at her phone; Still no new messages.

A hand would touch the small of her back, causing her to jump. Alina glanced over her left shoulder to find a man who wasn’t her best friend. This man towered over her. If she had to guess his height, she would say he was six foot five inches. He gives her a grin. “Hi,” He greets her.

“Hi.” She returns.

He leans down slightly; his mouth is in listening shot of her ear. “I’m Gavin, and you are?” He holds his hand out for her to shake.

“Alina.” She says, taking his hand. She shakes it gently before letting go of it. “Am I in your way? I can move.” She begins to make space for him. Gavin’s hand rests on her shoulder, stopping her from moving more.

“I came over here for you,” He starts. “I couldn’t walk away without telling you you're beautiful.” Heat began to rise in Alina’s face as her eyes shifted to the floor.

“Thank you.” She says, looking up at the guy again. Gavin wasn’t bad-looking. His black hair was shaggy on his head, his eyes a deep brown that looked almost black. His skin was pale, but his cheeks were faintly pink. He had a nostalgic feel to him overall.

“Are you here with anyone?” He asks.

“I…”

“Yeah, she’s with me, Uce.” A familiar voice chimes in. Josh eyes the man in front of him before holding out his hand. “You good, baby?” He asks, glancing at Alina. Took him long enough, she thought. She slips her hand into his warm one, instantly pulled to the Samoan. Once she was near him, he would slide his arm around her waist. Mentally, Alina took a deep breath to steady her now racing heart.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She says, leaning in to kiss his earlobe. Josh’s collected demeanor wouldn’t falter at the action, but boy, was he doing somersaults in his head. Gavin glances between the two before letting his brown eyes settle on Alina.

“Lucky man.” He says before turning to vanish back into the crowd.

Alina turns to look at Josh. “Damn, I thought you forgot how to use a phone.” She takes a step away from him.

“My bad, I didn’t know you texted me.” He says. Josh takes in Alina’s appearance. He couldn’t verbally tell her how good she looked, but he’s sure she knows. Of course, she knows how attractive she is. He was always having to fight off men on her behalf. Was he fighting off men for his sake or her own? Both? Both. He was selfish like that. Selfish, possessive—whatever you wanted to call it, he was that.

Alina noticed his staring. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide that he was doing it. He was blatant about things he did when it came to her. “Where is everyone?” She asks, snapping him out of his trance. He looks in two directions before allowing his eyes to settle on her.

“Oh, uh, we got a section. Come on.” Josh snatches up her hand again, pulling her through the crowd. They would zigzag through the dancefloor before making it to a set of stairs. A security guard stood there, blocking people who weren’t them from going up. He would step to the side to allow Josh and Alina to pass. They’d climb the stairs, finding themselves in an area lit up blue. In the corner was a bar that resembled the same as the bottom but smaller.

“Yay, he found her!” Gionna exclaims, jumping up from her seat on a white couch. With one hand, Alina hugs her friend. Josh stood to the side of them, watching the two women interact.

“You gonna let her go, Uce?” Jon shouts at him. The eldest twin always had time to tease Josh and Alina about their relationship. It wasn’t a friendship to him. He was beyond calling it that, as was everyone around them. The only two that were fighting for the title of friendship were the two people involved. Josh reluctantly lets go of her hand, and Alina notices instantly. Her eyes meet his back as he’s walking towards the couch.

“Have you gotten a drink yet?” Gionna asks.

It was then Alina realized she left her drink downstairs at the bar. She looks over the ledge, spotting the small cup sitting at the bar with no one around it. Well, she wasn’t going back for that. “No.” She answers, looking at the petite blonde in front of her. Gionna snatches up the same hand Josh previously held and pulls her over to the bar.

“Alina looks good,” Austin says, watching Alina and Gionna walk towards the bar. Josh and Jon look at each other before Josh looks off in the distance. He could feel his blood pressure rising by the second.

“Not too much on my sister-in-law, Uce,” Jon says. Trinity would slap Jon’s chest, making him bring his hand up to cover himself. Josh looks at his brother, pointing his finger at him.

“Quit playing with me, Jon! I done told you!” His brother would laugh, kicking his feet slightly at the reaction he’d gotten from his little brother.

“Oh, so she’s free game?” Austin asks, standing up.

“This ass whooping can be free game.” Josh snaps, rising with him. “Try it if you want to.” He warns. Austin lowered his eyes at Josh, a mischievous grin on his face. Slowly, he sits down. He wasn’t in the loop about what happens within The Usos friend group, but this little interaction told him everything he needed to know.

“So, like I said, not too much on my sister-in-law,” Jon repeats with a smile. “He don’t play about her.” Josh shoots a glare in his brother’s direction before sitting down.

Gionna ordered a tray of tequila shots at the bar for their group. She got twelve shots for six people. She was on an unspoken mission to loosen everyone up. Now that Lina was here, Gionna knew that the energy in their space would be different. Without fail, Josh and Alina always get weird around each other. “What’s new with you?” She would ask, making a quiet Alina speak up.

“Nothing,” She breathes. “I’m not complaining, though. After that last attempt, I decided to take a break from dating. It’s not worth it.”

“Why? Because of Josh?”

Alina was quiet for a moment. That was part of the reason, but not for what everyone’s thinking. She brings her index finger to her mouth, rubbing slightly at the bottom of her lower lip. It was something she often did when she was choosing her words. “I’m due for some much-needed reflection.” She settled, glancing at her friend. Gionna grinned, her lips twitching as she fought a laugh. “What?”

“Whatever the fuck that means.” She says, laughing at Alina. “I mean, I’m not one to judge…”

“You are right now!” Alina exclaims, causing Gionna to laugh more. The bartender places a tray of shots on the bar before them. Gionna grabs them, moving off her seat. Without another word, she turns to go back to their group. Alina follows behind her, quickly downing the Sex On The Beach cocktail she purchased. She’s going to need more by the end of the night.

“I come baring gifts!” Gionna shouts when they get back to their section. She places the shots on the table and drops down next to Austin, leaving a spot next to Josh open. She sits down, her body turned in towards everyone. Everyone reached for their two shots.

Josh sniffs his shots. “Girl, is this tequila?” He asks.

“Oh, hell nah, Gigi,” Jon says, shaking his head. “This ain’t gonna work for us.” The twins are both leaning to put their shots down.

“No balls.” She says. They pause, glancing up at her.

“Who!?” They shout in unison. They sit up again with their shots in their hands, ready to toss both back. Reverse psychology beats their asses without fail each time.

“Ooh, let’s toast, y’all!” Trin shouts, scooting to the edge of her seat. She holds a shot glass up. “Congrats to my honey and his brother for retaining their championships! Here’s to another successful defense and friendship!” She exclaims. Everyone cheered, leaning in to toast their glasses.

Josh turns to toast his shot glasses at Alina before they both toss them back. The alcohol warms their chests, but they both make a face of disgust before setting their glasses down. “You want another drink?” He asks, tapping her leg. “Vodka Sprite?” She nods. He stands to his feet, moving around her to the bar. Alina watches after him, a soft smile on her face.

“Alina,” Austin sings, sliding over to her. “How are you?” He asks.

“I’m good,” She answers. “You?”

“Oh, never better.” He replies. “Say, I have a question for you…” The pair wasn’t aware, but Jon and Trin were watching. The eldest twin had a grin on his face, not because Alina was talking to anyone, but because Josh was going to lose his fucking shit when he got back.

NEXT PART

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hi! This chapter is a little long! It would’ve been longer but I chose to stop here! I’m sorry if it’s awkward or anything!!

Jey (Josh) is gonna blow a gasket LMAO

Comment to be in the tag-list!

🏷️ list: @wrestlingprincess80 @venusesworld @fearlesschimera @tbmotw @paigereeder @yana3sworld @truefant4sy @sisinever @empressdede @thesamoanqueen

[bullet-prooflove]

ATF!Series Part Three: Hell or Highwater

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hatersaremymotivators benny kkkelpies-shed

ATF Series:

Part One: A Rabbit You Don't Want To Chase - Stahl makes an unwelcome return to David's life.

Part Two: Fucked - Stahl fucks up you entire life in pursuit of Jax Teller.

You’ve been in a custody for five hours by the time David’s finally allowed to see you. Four hours of that has consisted of you sitting silently in an interrogation room listening to Stahl tell you how fucked you are.

And yea, she’s right, you are pretty fucked.

Your entire life it’s crumbling down around you and all you can feel is this crushing, desolate numbness because those hopes you had, those dreams they’re gone. Every single one of them.

You think about that as you lie on a musty mattress in a chilly cell. You think about what Jax Teller has done to you, what he continues to do to you. He has no direct involvement with you but the ripples of that time you spent together still resonate through your life.

This is what David means when he talks about Jax's blast radius.

Jax Teller is a nuclear bomb, his toxicity seeping into everything he touches. His poison, it salts the earth leaving no space for anything else to grow and you, you  just have to sit here and absorb the damage.

“The light giving you a headache?” David asks as he leans in the doorway of the cell block. It’s Tuesday evening and you’re the only one in attendance, your arm is draped over your eyes trying to ward off the glow from the fluorescent. You have that metallic taste on your tongue. The one that usually comes just as the migraine starts to set in.

You don’t answer him, you can’t because the moment you do David will know exactly how broken you are right now you can’t stand the idea of anyone seeing that.

The light clicks off and you swallow past the well of emotion that’s building in your chest because David, he always knows exactly what you need. You hear his footsteps, the squeak of his boots as he comes to linger outside your cell. You hear his sigh before he sits down on the floor, his back against the cinderblocks. His elbows come to rest on his knees as his head tips back and his eyes close.

You’re in for the night and so is he.

The distance it seems to stretch between you, he feels the weight of it in the air as he plays through the past couple of hours in his head. The phone calls he’s made to the San Franisco Art Institute trying to undo all the nasty shit that Stahl has done to you. He’d begged for them to change their minds but that placement is gone, they don’t want a criminal influencing the other students. He’d slammed down the phone so hard, the plastic had cracked on the receiver.

“She told me you fucked her today.” You say quietly and his blood runs cold because it isn’t enough that Stahl has taken away your prospects, she has to try and take him too. “That you came inside her, it seemed important to her that I know that.”

He understands the significance. For Stahl their relationship was about power, about proving she had it and he didn’t. It drove her absolutely crazy that he wouldn’t give her that, that everytime she begged or demanded, he would pull out. It was a sign to her that she couldn’t control him, not completely.

“You’re the only woman who gets to have that.” He tells you, his gaze meeting yours as you shift up into a sitting  position. “The only one that gets to have every part of me.”

You draw your knees up to your chest, tucking the blanket over your legs because it get a little cold in here at night. He makes note to get you an extra blanket because the temperature is only going to keep dropping.

“David, we should talk about what happens when I go to jail.” You say softly. “You need to get clear of this…”

“You won’t see jail time.” He tells you and there’s such surety in his voice that you can’t help but believe him. “You’ll be bailed tomorrow, made to pay a fine, they’re going to seek restitution for the property damage. We’ll be paying it off for the next couple of years.”

We…

Because the two of you, you’re in this together come hell or highwater.

“David…” You whisper because you know exactly what he’s done while you’ve been trapped with Stahl.

All the favours he’s collected over the years, all that good will. He’s used it all up on you, on managing this crisis. You know what this is going to do to him, his dreams of being Chief, they’re over. His affiliation with you has seen to that.

“You’ll be his downfall.” Jacob Hale had warned you when he’d heard about you and David. “You’ll ruin everything he’s worked for.”  

This is it right here, the moment he was talking about. Fuck it eats you up inside, knowing you’re dragging David down with you.

“You think this is a sacrifice for me but it isn’t.” He says as he raises to his feet, wincing at the stiffness in his bones as he comes to stand before the bars, his hands gripping them. “Unser was never going to step down and I don’t see the point of having all this power if I can’t use it to do the right thing.”

You mirror his movements, your fingers coming to rest in the indentations between his knuckles as you press your head against the cool bars.

“You didn’t ask for any of this,” He reminds you quietly, his blue eyes meeting yours. “We just fucked the wrong people and now we’re getting fucked but at least we’re in it together. They don’t get to have this, they don’t get to take you away from me.”

“No.” You whisper, a sad smile crossing your features because even though you’ve both lost so much, you’ll always have each other.  “They won’t ever have this.”

Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[dawnoftime22]

for the loss of my life.

| W.M -> N.R

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 11

Chapter Warnings: One swear word, overthinking.

Summary: Making yourself at home with someone else's heart but holding no communications of the love clear between you two, has a chance for consequences to happen. What will the outcome be if you speak up about it?

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 3.3k

Category: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

A/N: I hope you're all taking care of yourselves <3

Series Playlist

| Started on 07/05/2024, 2:02 PM |

| Finished on 11/05/2024, 10:53 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 10 Final Chapter ->

"Run yourself in a circle, bury yourself a deeper hole, but it won't end unless you stop and take control."

Started with a kiss, oh, we must stop meeting like this!

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It was an early day at Nat's place. You were hanging out in her room, taking a look through physical photos she's taken that had been retrieved from a dusty box, sitting under her bed, along with some cassettes.

Meanwhile, she was going through the photos on her digital camera and clearing some accidental takes. her lips raises up when sees the photo you had taken of her, the day you first came over to her apartment. She didn't ever delete the picture.

"Hey, you have any batteries?" You ask, gently breaking the comforting quietness that had overcome the two of you. She looks up, taking her gaze off the camera screen.

"Yeah, there should be some in the top drawer." She nods towards her chestdrawer, and you get up, going off to open the top one, inside holding a small pack of batteries.

You grab two, then slide them into the battery slot for the cassette player, making sure it was properly inside before closing it and turning back to her.

Her eyes watch you as you picked up a cassette tape, placing it inside to play it. You already had your headphones on your head and connected to the output.

With some faith and a miracle, the player works after you heard some white noise. You hoped it'll last that way.

Nat tilted her head, and peeks to see the wheels of the player spinning, a clear indication it was working. When you turn up the volume a little, she could hear the music coming out from the old headphones she kept.

Thank everything the dust hadn't gotten into the box. Although there was a dead black spider within it just earlier and you had jumped when you saw it. She took care of it though, after also making sure there wasn't anything else, especially things such as...spider eggs.

You nod your head to the music as you sat back down on the bed, your hand going back through the photos scattered in a pile atop each other and every now and then petting Liho, beside you. It was all indeed scenery, and no portraits, selfies, or even people at all.

A specific one that was a bright glow of a sunset with water reflecting its own beauty had caught your attention, your eyes focused on it before your hand reached out.

"This one's pretty," you said, holding it up before leaning closer to Nat and tilting it to show it to her. She looked at it, and her eyebrows raised.

"Oh, I took that one a while after I saw the orca." She pointed out, and you realize how familiar it did look. The grass below, the rocks just ahead. It was the same spot as the pictures and videos she had showed you before. You guessed she wanted a physical memory of it too.

"There should be a picture of the orca here somewhere, but I think the film got a leak..." She murmured with a tinge of sadness as her hand ruffled through the pictures slightly, some with dates on them and some having nothing.

"I love that you waited for the sunset," you said, still staring at the shot she took in your hand. The sun was a bright orange, nearly similar in color as her hair.

"Well, the view was too pretty not to." She looked at you. You were also too adorable for her to not further fall in love with you as she saw you admiring the photos she took. That's what she thought, but it was never said out loud.

Liho, was laying down and purring between the two of you. She was quiet, and unmoving, too comfortable to do anything else but sit with the two people she liked the most.

When Nat's eyes went down to the pictures closer to your crossed legs, she spots the photo that had the orca, although just barely visible through the orange light leak that covered nearly the entire photo.

"Here it is," she said, her hand carefully taking ahold of it to give to you. You gently grabbed it, rotating it when you realize she gave it to you in the opposite way.

You raised your eyebrows, taking in the picture. It took a few seconds, with some squinting, but you soon see the orca jumping from the water, although small. "I think it looks prettier with the light leak."

She hums, taking another look to the picture in your hand. You smiled softly, and her eyes flickered up to your lips for a small moment before she turns back to her camera.

You notice the way she goes back to her camera, almost as if she was distracting herself, but you hadn't seen the flicker in her eyes. Tilting your head, you check the cassette player for a bit before looking up at her.

"You wanna listen?" You asked with a soft gaze, taking off the headphones on your head and holding it out to her.

She raised an eyebrow, but took it from you, putting it on. "Sure." the music was already flowing through her ears. 'American Pie'. She remembered this album. It was what she had listened to whenever she was alone, in the car peacefully. But it was different with the headphones-- capturing more details she hadn't noticed. Or, maybe, she just hasn't listened to it in a while and had forgotten.

You smiled as you see her involuntarily moving her head to the song, her attention going to inspect the cassette player, either watching the wheels turning or putting the volume up.

Soon after, you finish looking at every photo and get out of bed, deciding to walk towards the bathroom, but was too close to the bed, causing you to accidentally hit your hand against the wooden bedframe, it making a loud sound echo through the room.

"Ow, fuck!" You winced and cursed, grimacing at the pain. Both Nat and Liho looks at you, shocked. You were focused on your stinging hand though, shaking the pain away. It took everything in you to not crumple up like a shrimp to the floor.

"Are you okay?" she asks quickly, her eyes filling with concern. But you nod repetitively, unwilling to admit it still hurt. Your other hand was firmly gripping your wrist, as if it would help.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine!" you say, most probably trying to convince yourself, too. She lets out a small laugh when she sees you wave her off and struggle as you moved to take a step forward.

"Sure you are. Come here." She says quietly, but you still heard her. You purse your lips and your eyes travel to her, but you follow nonetheless, two pair of eyes watching you.

"Which hand?" She asked gently, looking at your hands. You hesitate for a moment, but stepped closer, holding it out.

"Right." She grabs your hand and rubs her thumb on the skin slightly to where you held it, knowing thats where the pain is. She blows a little, as if you would magically take pain away from a child.

"There. Better." She says, and a red tint goes over your face. The redhead cheekily smiles. Just when she was about to pull her hand away from yours, the cat sitting in her lap had been looking at you two the whole time, and it decides to lean up, going up to your hand.

Both you and Nat watch curiously as to what it was doing. Liho's yellow eyes were focused before a paw gently lands on your wrist, her face going closer to lick on your skin, making the pain slowly go away even more. You chuckled, both at getting your skin tickled and the fact the cat tried to help ease the pain.

Then you see Nat's eyes travel to her cassette player, concern growing in her face as she heard some warbly music. She takes off the headphones, feeling uneasy at the sound.

"I think it's breaking." She said, looking at the headphones in her hands that you now heard the messed up music from. Pulling your hand away from the cat's face, your eyebrows furrowed as your attention moved to her.

"Why, what happened?" You check on the cassette player, seeing that it was slowing down or speeding up, changing its pace however much it wants.

Nat stops the player with a click and hands both items back to you. The feel of her skin brushing with yours glided over for a mere second, but you try to focus on the player in your hand. Changing its batteries after taking the tape out, rewinding or fast forwarding a bit. But nothing other than a broken noise.

You sighed softly, knowing you'll need to open it up to check its insides. "It probably needs a new belt..." You murmured, turning around while Nat blinked at you and tilted her head, probably unfamiliar with the workings of a portable player.

"It's what makes the wheels spin. I'll search for one," you explained, then left the player on the chestdrawer to deal with later before storing the tape and sitting down on the bed once more, helping her sort the pictures. Nat nods, leaning closer to show you some things on her digital camera.

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It was one of the many times once again, you were sitting in Natasha's apartment, and it was the beginning of something you were starting to get lost in.

The city bustles. Sounds of car tires, motorcycles revving, a nearby cat somewhere in an alleyway, and most of all, the birds chirping in the skies.

The wind was gentle as it glided against your skin, the chair you were sat in being a wooden one. You should get up from it. It was starting to make your body sore. But you couldn't help but stay, the balcony being peaceful.

Every thought in your head floated on by, with some sticking, being nothing but damaging. You still haven't gotten a belt yet for the cassette player. Kate's been just here and there, keeping a natural presence in your life. You haven't seen Wanda at all since. But your mind questioned if she was still waiting on you, lost too, or had moved on after your rejection.

A sigh leaves your mouth. To put a pause on all of it for however long you'd want would make you be able to relieve your body of any exhaustion it held. But would it really? Perhaps for a moment. Moving forward would have you release the things from before and have the opportunities to experience things in a better way.

And what about Nat...? You've been growing close, closer to going over the line you weren't sure you were ready to cross. And it seems like she wasn't either. The many touches you've shared, the months and months that held the many times you've visited her. And the kiss that you couldn't shake off...were you actually falling in love with her?

You shook your head, not wanting to even think about it. But you should. The longer you leave it be the more it could lead to torment and perhaps worser consequences. Problems don't fix themselves...most of the time.

Suddenly, you feel arms go around your waist, and you take a breath in, gasping softly in surprise, then turning your head to look behind you. The familiar touch was recognized soon enough, but seeing the redhead you cherished dearly makes you relax and lean back into her.

"I'm home." She said, resting her head on your shoulder as she gazed at you from behind, looking adorable. How can you not absolutely fall for this woman? You smiled softly, feeling your heart grow a little lighter, now that you weren't alone.

"Hi," you whispered, your hand gliding to your front to put over hers that was still on your waist. You hesitated on your next words, but the connection you felt with her urged you to. "I missed you."

Her eyes went to yours, but she didn't question it, replying back quietly, "I've missed you, too, любов." There it was again. You weren't imagining things when you had gotten drunk just a few days ago.

Wanda always said things in Russian, such as малыш (baby), but you've never heard of that word. Or maybe it wasn't Russian at all, and you were mixing up languages, but the accent made it lean towards being so.

You were going to ask her what it meant, but she spoke first. "You been okay?" She asks, her hands slipping off your waist as she pulls herself away from you and stood beside your standing figure. You watched her, seeing her gaze off to the view you've been staring off at the past hour.

"Yeah...I..." The words utter from your mouth quietly, then you licked your dry lips, diverting your own gaze. Should you tell her about the encounter you had a few days ago?

There was no harm in it, but your fingers fiddle with your pocket, the jean fabric rough against your skin before you slid your hand in the pockets. A sound of an ambulance siren sounded out distantly from the city, and you wait until it fades further away before talking.

"I saw Wanda a few days ago," You said, within a breath that could be counted as a sigh. At the mention of your ex's name, her eyes flash with surprise for a moment as she looks back to you, but she regains her composure fast enough.

Nat's head goes through her own thoughts, wondering if you meant intentionally or accidentally. Surely, accidentally. Or she hoped so. Why was she hoping so? She didn't know. Maybe simply because she was worried you'd fall into a dark hole, and not because her own heart was aiming for you...surely.

"Anything happen?" She asks, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. The redhead also leaned on the balcony rails beside you, feeling the gentle wind. The sun was falling down, so the skies were colored with gentle hues of orange and purple.

You didn't say anything back for just a few seconds, staying quiet as you were lost in decision, your eyes focused on a space elsewhere that wasn't her own eyes. Her face soften when she notices, and her voice was somehow gentler. "...That you're comfortable of sharing?"

Your lips raise up in the smallest smile for a moment, the swell in your heart obvious due to her thought to care in such a way. But the smile slowly fades as you remembered the memory.

"She wanted to get back together..." You start. Already, Nat raised a brow, a frown on her face. The metal rails of the balcony was cold on your skin when you stepped forward to lean against it.

Your shoulders were tense. When you realized they were, you let them relax and fall down just slightly with a quiet breath. "I didn't want to though." You whispered.

"I just can't get it out of my head." She didn't really know what to say to anything of it, afraid to touch on the sensitive subject. For you, it did some small damage, your head possibly going overboard with its roaming thoughts.

You can tell she had hesitancy to respond, but you didn't mind. Who could ever come up with a reply to that anyway? But Nat was kind, that was for sure. She just has some walls you just can't yet break through. Yet, how caring she's been, and gentle...you almost couldn't help but feel you're not half as decent as her.

You inhaled. "...What if she was just too good for me?" The words were under your breath, your gaze distant as you watch the city lights turning on with the growing darkness of the skies. The shops had a glow to them, almost alluringly.

"What if I don't deserve any of it?" Your hands gently gripped the metal it was against, but it slowly loosened when you feel the cold going too much against your skin. Nat's breath gets caught in her throat at your sentence, and she kept her eyes on you.

"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice gentle as her concern grew. She knew exactly what you meant, but she hoped she just imagined it. You turned to look at her, worry deep in your eyes that had her heart clenching.

"This. You...anything good in my life." Your volume lowered to a slight murmur, your hands going to run down your face when you rested your elbows further on the rails.

"I mean-- I've...done some good things but so...many horrible things." You said slowly, and she analyzed your movements and words. She knows it herself. She's accused herself of such a thing too, having gone through the same thing your mind is going through.

"Y/N." When she says your name with a serious tone, everything stops, as if the world freezes along with your mind, and only she was the living thing beside you. She had put one of her hands on your shoulder nearest to her, making you look at her again.

"You deserve everything. Please, don't think any less." She shook her head lightly, honesty in her eyes. Your heart stutters at her words as you swallowed a lump in your throat.

"She didn't..." she trails off, thinking her words carefully. She was going to say Wanda didn't deserve such a love like yours, but it simply sounded...wrong.

"You deserve a love that makes you happy and...makes your world feel like sunshine or just...takes the weight off your shoulders after a long day." The redhead explained slowly, making sure you were hearing her. Really, she was speaking a description of you. Even if she wasn't trying.

She had gotten home, saw you in her apartment, and any heaviness in her body had lightened, even if just slightly, your presence did a great deal.

Nat took a moment, gathering her words. "And if you're not enough for her, then she's not enough for you," she gently added, but anxiety was creeping in her heart.

You processed her words, your heart surprisingly steady, but that may be the cause of her very own calm presence beside you. At least, on the outside. She was right. The situation of the brunette was basically done and over with. You had to focus on yourself. But now stood the question right next to you.

"...And what are we?" You asked slowly and quietly, looking up at her. Your eyes met her green ones, the ones that look like a forest, but inviting, soft, as if they'd keep you safe.

She searches your pupils, taking a deep breath as her eyebrows furrowed, trying to think it over. Her mouth opened to speak, but she only ended up taking another breath in.

"I don't know." She whispers. Sounds of birds were heard flying over in the distance. She was right there. She was so close. But she couldn't say it. Not yet, not just yet. The light and hope in your eyes dimmed, a breath slowly and quietly exhaling out your lips.

"Well, it's getting late," you said. You weren't really disappointed, more so just...sad. You pushed yourself back from the rails. She saw the words that was coming next, but she almost didn't want to hear it.

"I should...probably get back to my place." You whispered under your breath, turning around to face the entrance of the balcony, where you could see her familiar furnished apartment. She nods.

Steps were taken, shots in the dark had gone, the only thing left was to sit and think. But you were getting bored of doing such a thing. Just as you stepped a single foot inside again, she turns her body calmly.

"Text me," she said suddenly, her eyes hesitantly traveling to yours. You stopped in your tracks and looked at her from over your shoulder, a somber look in your eyes she could just barely make out.

"...When you get back home," she continued, her voice quiet, but it held care. Your shoulders went down. Your home was her, where her heart was. There was something else, but you couldn't quite reach to whatever it was.

"I will." The words left your mouth softly, but it seems no tears had pricked your eyes at all. Maybe it was because you couldn't seem to form any at all anymore, or was it the fact she even cared to know you arrived home safely?

Your steps were quiet as you went out the apartment, Liho meowing softly before you closed the door. You don't want her like a best friend. Or just someone you could love without anything connected. You wanted more.

And you wondered if she thought the same.

end of chapter 11. <3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 10 Final Chapter ->

to mend a broken heart is to restart.

"I don't truly deserve a love like yours." W.M

"She doesn't deserve a love like yours." N.R

"What if I...don't deserve anyone's love?" R.

------------------------

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@ludasgf @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @slutforabbyanderson @fxckmiup @dmenby3100 @animealways @may-z3 @natashasilverfox @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp @natsbiggestfan1 @fawnedolly @blacklightsposts @canvascoloredin @autorasexy @taliiiaasteria @wandanatlov3r @glorioushamsterqueen @shaniaauld03 @yvungmxshroom

[chiikasevennn]

(this has topics of murder and yandere.....and stuff PLS DELETE IF URE NOT COMFY IM SORRY HUHUHU)

haia omg i have no idea if you're still open or no but i really like whenever writers dive into the more darker aspects of a character or how especially when a process of basically ascending to something what you would consider non human (monarch in this case) and how this affects a character like does this make them less humane or posssiblllyy twist their morals??

like as we can see with jinwoo his morals is err well yeah there but we can see times where he is willing to commit crimes if the time calls it (often the system forcing him to it) but like what happens when he finally swallows the system as a whole?? LIKE since now there is no third party to force him to do murder or what not will his way of thinking change too? like i imagine when he first murdered the guys in the cave very early on in the series you think that maybe he thought that it wasn't that bad..??

I can honestly see it more if it was another scenario and we add in the aspect of the reader or I'll call [name] whwhw.. I feel like Jinwoo is the type to actually lose his sense of humanity just for the sake of [name] or keeping them safe like the two probably was close but had to separate in their own ways but when they meet again [name] can barely recognzie Jinwoo and i dont mean physically or what not it's more like he lost his warmth and seems more... unsettling.. like do you know the feeling of watching those analogue horror or watching anything eerie and you get that feeling that somethings off in a scene that seems normal but you know something is OFF. yeah i feel like that's what [name] would feel ✊.

I just wanna hear your opinion on a more screwed up Jinwoo because as muchhh as i love the fluffy cutie jinwoo i also love delving into the topics of jinwoo just going batshit insane 🤯🙏

-🌟🎀

ABSOLUTELY!

Jinwoo x Reader

Your wish is my command, pookie bear.

Warning(s): YANDERE, nothing much, maybe too short? Not a fic or oneshot lol js my crazy thoughts

Also guys ples comment and say something ...

^⁠_⁠^

Jinwoo himself was already prepared to walk through fire just for his family, and that was just platonic love. Imagine how insane he'd be for a significant other that he loves way too deeply.

Hello???? Like I feel his dedication and love for darling would be higher than the heavens especially if they're already there for him during his lowest part in life.

My hunch is he's a chill yandere; he adores you and wouldn't pull any outrageously crazy stunts directly at you. Instead, he might convey lessons through various means, like allowing uncomfortable scenarios to set up, then emerging from the shadows he casted beneath your silhouette to rescue you.

Like a "savior" yandere. Your knight and sole protector.

He'd be more possessive ig if his crazy fans found out about you, particularly if they desire him to be romantically involved with Hae-In in the name of being a power couple. Jinwoo literally and genuinely didn't give a damn when they trash-talked him.

But hey, fans can be krezi

ALSO HELLO LIKE WHAT IF THOSE CRAZY ASSHOLES START HARASSING YOU ON WORK OR IN SOCIAL MEDIA (like leaving you death threats or rudely demanding you to break up w him bc apparently according to them, you don't deserve him)? Lol he'd be willing to do something about them, so good luck reasoning against him if you don't want bloodshed!!!

He'd convince you to not work anymore if that was in store for you.

"... Woo, you know I can't just quit work like that and have you become the breadwinner for the two of us. You're getting financially better and I'm proud, but I can't jus—"

"Shh," He'd tenderly cup your cheeks with his eyes overflowing with love and concern, every bit of his attention dedicated to you. "Is it so bad for me to want no dangers coming to you?"

"You're also being unintentionally put into unavoidable situations whenever you're in public. Love, you remember what happened last time, right?" He'd add. With a kiss on your forehead, he said, "I'll provide for you, you don't have to work. I can't stand how they're looking at you."

Jinwoo would mumble the final words gently before pulling back. He'd whisper them solely for your ears, aware that you wouldn't interpret that knowledge negatively anymore—it would now simply reflect his worry for your welfare and highlight his character as the tender and loving partner he was.⁠ ♡

[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 19}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: Time passes and heals a lot of things, while others are discussed as the wedding gets closer. Frankie sees the stress weighing down on you amid it all and plans something special…

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: hurt and comfort, fluff, light angst, reader has trauma similar to the triple frontier guys, reader is described as having tattoos for plot points, reader is partially handicapped, reader has mobility issues, adult content, adult content, smut, p in v smut, oral (m recieving), the whole gang is here, plus oc inserts, serious conversations, alcohol consumption, alcohol, mentions of past trauma, ptsd, nightmares. that seems to be it, but let me know if i've missed anything!

A/N: as we see this penultimate chapter, i just wanted to take a moment and thank everyone who read, liked, commented, and shared this fic that holds a special place in my heart ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“We’re going on a trip. Cleared it with your doctors and ensured them we would keep up with your stretches and daily mobility exercises. Does…does that sound okay?” Frankie is making dinner, busy at the stove as he stirs the contents of one pot and keeps an eye on the other. Simple, today, after you had gone to work a shift at the bakery, and he had been in the air since before the sun rose. Lex was in the living room doing her homework, the tv on but muted to allow her to work easier.

You were at the table, having set it up for the meal and now on your laptop answering emails. You look at him over the top of the screen, about to question him when Lex trots in and all but shoves herself into your lap and puts a piece of paper down across your keyboard.

“Mama Pastel, I don’t understand this.”

“Is this your way of asking for help?”

“Alexia, manners, please. Did you ask Pastel if you could sit in her lap, her legs are still very tender sometimes.”

“Yes, papa.” She barely resists the urge to roll the very same eyes peering over at her. She turns to you with a smile so sweet your heart melts. You wrap an arm around her, holding her in place as you shift your legs to hold her weight more evenly. “Mama Pastel, can you please help me with this, it’s fractions. Also, your legs can hold me, right? I…I feel like I need to be close to someone right now.”

“Of course, mija, my legs are always strong enough to hold you. Fractions are no fun, huh?” You smile over at her father, something he catches before he turns back to finish dinner as you lean down to rest your chin over her little shoulder. The soft murmuring of you helping her with the page fills the room, and it’s enough to make you yearn for everyday to be this easy.

But just last week, Frankie had had a rather alarming nightmare, his mind replaying the events of his hearing. He had woken up in a sweat, frantically wiping at his face to rid himself of the white powder he had been indulging in right in front of the judge. You hadn’t been in bed, which further spiked his overwhelming panic. Searching through the whole house to find you sat behind the wheel of your truck, hands tight on the steering wheel as you bowed you head and sobbed. You had a nightmare of your own, dreaming of driving and loosing the feeling in your legs and crashing. You hadn’t said anything other than that, but Frankie read between the lines. You were afraid of hurting them, of causing them injury with the potential for your limbs to suddenly be numb to your control.

“What are we having for desert?” Lex asks as Frankie announces dinner is ready, turning off the stove tops.

“Little Pastel, that’s what you’re turning into.” Frankie pins her with a raised eyebrow, his eyes meeting yours behind her as he settles the pots in the middle of the table on trivets.

His lips are twitching as he tries to tame a fond smile in order to chastely parent. Though you can see right through him, worry and love for his daughter outshining the reminder to be kind and respectful because he knows it’s a reminder that she’s comfortable around you enough to push into your space and seek you out in the ways that she has been. It’s been a little better since she returned to school, feeling more like herself and doing better in crowds. She had even asked to go on the winter fieldtrip, a weeklong thing at a conservation center down South toward the coastline. You had both agreed it would be good for her, even more so since she seemed so excited. But needed her therapist to sign off in the idea before a decision was made.

“Better than little Catfish!” She fired back loudly with giggles that only increased in volume as you tickled her sides and asked her what was so wrong with being like her daddy.

“He’s so good to us, we should both wanna be more like him, I think.” She squeals as she fidgets in your hold, trying not to lose her balance still in your lap. But you don’t let her fall, you wouldn’t dare. You look up at him and offer him a bright smile he can’t help but reflect back before he says to dig in before the food gets cold.

“Thank you,” You wound your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him as his hands helped to guide you into a comfortable position against him. Nestled in between his outstretched legs, you pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. You moved to do so to the other side, but he dipped down and captured your lips fully with his own. You had been doting over wedding plans when he had found you in bed, papers and brochures and an open laptop scattered all around you.

“No need to thank me, sweet girl. Want you to be comfortable. You okay with this, not too much pressure on your hips?” His hands were light on you, helping to support you as you stood on your knees over him. But you didn’t answer him with words, instead you planted yourself right over his lap, grinding down on him. The deep groan he graced you with was swallowed by your willing mouth, tongue lapping at his lips to catch the lingering taste of something sweet he had eaten.

“Q-querida, we- you sure this is okay?” Despite his cock stirring in his boxer briefs, his worry for you softened your heart further and you felt adoration for the man beneath you fill your chest with a jittery feeling. You had been lingering, staying up late to greet him after his double, triple flight tour day. It had been marked on the communal whiteboard in the kitchen for weeks now, a reminder that he was still the only one working.

“Frankie, I need you. It’s been so long.” You’re suddenly desperate, having been alone all day. Caring for and totting Lex to and from school, making dinner with her, getting her bathed and settled into bed with a fluffy blanket fresh from the dryer and a bedtime story. You longed for the days to feel just like that, the shadow of Frankie all around the house, in her smile, her laugh, her sparkling brown eyes. Her love for you as strong as the love you had for him and for her in return. The ease of domesticity stirring something in you, making you feel like your skin was too tight and Frankie was the only one who could help abate it.

“I-I want to…”

“Just, let me sit on it. Please, carino, I need to feel you inside me.” You can’t help the whine of your voice, the scent of him fresh from the shower and dressed only in his underwear laid across the bed too much of a temptation.

“Fuck, you can have anything you want, just want you to be comfortable.”

“I will be, once your cock is nestled as deep as it can go, filling me up, stretching me. God, Fransisco, your cock is so beautiful, so thick and hard, and perfect. You’re perfect to me, for me. I love you, mi amor. I love you so much.” You panted against his lips, kisses smothering the words into his skin, his lips, his scruff, the column of his neck. Hands trailing down and releasing him from the fabric.

“Dios mio, mija, you’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

“Let me show you what kinda mouth I’ve got.” You push down further to rest over his shins, hips hinged as you lean down and press an open-mouthed kiss to the head of his weeping head. His hips stutter up, chasing the feeling of your warm breath as you pull back to relieve yourself of his large shirt you had stolen before settling in bed to wait for him.

It’s slow, despite your desperation for the man you loved, the way you take him fully into your mouth and lave at the velvet hardness of his cock with your tongue. Taking him as deep as you could before bobbing your head at a savoring pace. His thick fingers tangle into your hair, gathering it into a mockery of a ponytail to better see your face.

Hallowing your cheeks, you look up at him through your lashes and groan around him at the wreckage you’ve caused. His mouth is hanging open, plush lips wetted by his tongue and puffy from your barrage of kisses. Beautiful eyes blown wide as he takes in the image you create between his legs, blush high on his cheeks as he feels the slight scrape of your teeth along his length. He’s still so warm from his shower, smelling of his woodsy and homey soap. But he chokes on his next breath as you dive down, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you close your eyes to revel in the feeling of him thick and hard in your mouth.

“Get up here,” He moans out, hands letting your hair fall from its loose hold. You readily pull your mouth from him, making sure to lick a firm strike up from his heavy balls to the sensitive tip before moving up to straddle his waist. He shimmies from his underwear completely, shucking them to crumple at the end of the bed along with all the paperwork you had hastily piled together.

His cock nudges against your inner thighs and you take him in a gentle hand to line him up properly while he latches a mouth around your breasts, free from the flimsy camisole you had on just seconds ago. He bites down on the hardened peak as you sink down, slick arousal making it easy for him to stretch you. A wonton moan at the feel of him after so long catches as he grazes that soft, spongy spot at the perfect angle and your hips rock forward suddenly. His hands wrap around your ribs, grounding you, keeping you upright even as you arch at finally sitting flush, hips to hips after what had been nearly six months of being cautious and careful. Nearly six months of waiting and pleasuring each other in other ways.

“I’ve got ya, sweet girl. Just take your time, we’ve got all the time in the world for you to feel good.” He rumbles, voice gravel as he presses kisses all along your neck and chest, nipping at the soft weight of your chest, your lips, your cheeks. Everywhere he could to sooth you while you adjusted to feeling so full once again. “Gonna make you feel good for the rest of our lives, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.” You stutter out, lifting up slightly before sliding back down his length with an obscenely wet sound. His lips capture yours and you hook your arms around his neck, beginning to move against him to spark pleasure across both your bodies.

It was winter, the new year just having passed, Alexia sent off on her fieldtrip, leaving you and Frankie to each other for the entire week.

Open road is stretched in front of you, the tires below you moving quickly and devouring it as quickly as Frankie would allow. You were busy in the passenger seat, one of his hands on firmly on the wheel while the other moved the piece of paper in your hand to get a better glimpse at it over his dark aviators.

“I think we should keep it small, even if the city has rallied to help us.”

“Yeah, I don’t want a huge thing, its already going to be in the paper. An article in the magazine.”

“We can ask them to not do that, if you really want.” He smoothly drifts into the fast lane to pass a slower work truck laden down with a trailer full of yard work machinery, shifting back into the slow lane as soon as he’s passed them and had enough room to safely do so before he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. The flowers, the venue, the caterers, the photographer, everyone one of the local businesses had offered to either donate their services or severely discount you for the event. Wanting to make sure you both had everything you needed or wanted for the momentous day.

It had honestly shocked you, when you discovered just how much the people around the city appreciated your efforts during that fateful last day of the farmer’s market. Offering your shop to those seeking shelter in the chaos, the people you had stopped to help if they were bleeding or limping from the rushing crowds as you searched for your own people amidst it all.

“No, I think…I think it’s nice to have some good publicity for the bakery.”

“Did…did you pick out a date you wanted?” You paused, looking out the window as you felt your heartrate pick up and your nerves spark to life. It was beyond sappy, you realized, but the particular date you had in mind seemed to work out perfectly with all the vendors, with family needing to fly in or travel, with a break for there to be coverage at the bakery and Lex’s school out for the summer…

“I wanted to pick one that meant something to both of us so…I was wondering if the date we first met was okay with you?”

“Sweet girl, that’s…that’s perfect. I was thinking it but didn’t want to influence the decision if you already had your heart set on something.” His hand curled tighter over your thigh, dull fingernails making light marks in your skin.

He helps you out of the truck at the next gas stop. His hands strong around your waist as he makes sure you have both feet on the ground and your cane in hand before he dips to kiss you cheek and lets you loose to make your way into the building. The giggle bursting from your lips and the slight float to the skirt of your dress has him feeling warmth bloom in his chest as he makes sure you have no trouble along the small distance. Someone is exiting just as you approach the door and they do a double take at the sight of your tattoos on display and the flattering form of the dress over your skin, holding the door open for you and saying something you seem to reciprocate.

Frankie busies himself with hooking the gas pump into the tank’s opening and looks up to watch you amble through the store through the wide windows, the guy who held the door open doing on the other side of the pump. You’re slow in your movements around the few aisles, taking in all of the sweet and savory options. But you make sure to grab a dr. pepper and a cherry coke. Mini powdered donuts make their way into your hand holding the drinks to your chest before you approach the checkout.

“She’s a looker, man, good on you.” Comes from the other side of the pump before a vehicle takes off.

“Frankie! I got snackies!” You hold up a plastic bag the second you’re back out the door, shaking it slightly before grimacing and halting the movement, realizing it would make the drinks fizz up. “Oops, my bad.”

“Sweet girl, what did you get us to munch on? We’re only about half an hour out at this point.”

“And where is it we’re going again?”

“Nice try, querida, but it’s a secret. I think you’ll really like it.” He pressed the tip of his index finger to your nose as you enter his orbit. Hand moving to take the cane from you and place it in the truck exactly where you preferred it. It was a beautiful thing, sleek carved wood stained a dark, espresso brown. The hand coated in silver cast to look like blooming flowers to ensure your grip is secure and travel down a few inches. The tip of it capped with rigged silver as well to help with steadying your uneven right side.

He takes the bag from you next, setting it down in the middle of the bench seat, the center console pushed up to create more room for you to cross your legs while you went over stuff. It wasn’t the best position for you to be sitting in for long hours, but you argued it was one of the few ways that brought relief sometimes so he let you do what you thought was best. He had put his foot down and gotten stern with you though, saying that if he noticed it was doing more harm than good that he was going to ask you to try and sit another way.

Truth be told, Frankie would carry you for the rest of your live if you would allow him to. Should you need to be off your feet altogether. A custom wheelchair having been ordered to replace the generic one the insurance company had covered for immediate use after your surgeries. It had been a long conversation, one in which both of you had shed tears during. But the agreement was that it would be stored in the downstairs closet and brought out for longer trips, hospital visits that would take more than a quick pop in and out to ensure no uncomfortable and hard waiting room chairs caused harm, and days where the errands piled up.

While you were recovered from the surgeries and dealing with the trauma of what happened, your legs worked as well as they could. Though the already replaced right one tended to go numb at random intervals the doctors could only explain as part of a degenerative disease that had probably been undiagnosed before the first shooting. The left often got a tingling sensation, sciatic nerve sensitive on both sides making it hard for you to get out and about some days.

Working full time had been another conversation, safety rails installed with the help of the guys all around the house should you be home alone. The showers in the two bathrooms you used were set to be remodeled with ledges for you to set on should you want to, the tubs to be replaced with shower stalls and a fancy tub of your choosing to be put in the master one attached to yours and Frankie’s room.

He worried about the stairs, something that took a longer conversation in which you admitted to feeling like you were flipping his whole life upside down and ruining the home he had carefully curated for him and his daughter. His solution had been as simple as breathing, as loving you: turn the guest room and laundry room into a new downstairs master, expand the kitchen to accommodate the laundry room equipment. The money it would take had caused you to break down, even if Frankie hadn’t batted an eye at the arguably large sum it would require.

Will and Benny had argued that two cousins of theirs that resided in Texas was more than willing to make the trip to oversee the project. They had readily agreed to absolve the labor and graciously discount the materials as long as their flights were covered, and they had a place to stay as for the duration.

You had briefly talked with Joel about it, equal parts meek and steadfast on certain aspects of the project. Insistent that they would be able to stay in the apartment above the bakery. You had promised you didn’t want to be difficult, but the man’s deep twangy voice had assured you that you had every right to be since it was for your comfort.

Trees got thicker on either side of the winding road as the elevation hiked up. Deep in a forest of some part of the northern portion of the state. Somewhere you had no idea of, the GPS on the truck shut off and Frankie leading the vehicle with just the inner workings of his mind. The truck was moved into second gear and the engine rumbled loudly as Frankie continued to drive. He had shut off the radio to concentrate, something you did often as you drove to new places for the first time. A pleased smile pulling at your lips as you discovered things about him that you shared.

Turning off the paved road, the tires crunched over a gravel one as he continued on. You were leaning out of your seat to try and better see the glimpse of bright blue off aways between the trees.

“Almost there, sweet girl.”

“Frankie, what in the world did you plan?”

He just chuckled, jostling your thigh in his grip before removing it. You were about to turn to him when you heard the hum of conversation and laughter through the open window. The gentle splash of water trickling in the background as he rounded one last curve and began to pull up the drive of an impressive looking cabin. It was all dark tones with neutral accents in the form of a large patio that shifted into a deck, stretching out onto a decent sized lake. The water sparkling in the sunshine and temporarily stunning you.

“About time, Fish! Mante, watch this!” Benny hollered as he ran down the length of the deck that jutted out into the water and leapt from the edge of it. Balling up, he made a spectacular splash into the pristine water, causing it to splatter all over the girls lounging on the bank. Morgan and Luciana only laughed as Benny bobbed up to the surface, wiping the water from their skin and turning to wave at you from their spots. Will and Santiago were over by the grill, trading laden down plates with of cooked and raw items from a long wooden picnic table set up right in the middle of the covered part of the deck that doubled as a large patio off the side of the cabin.

“Figured the water would feel good on your hip. Got you a set of trekking poles if you want to hike, but there’s also plenty for us to do around the cabin if you don’t feel like it. Whatever you wanna do, sweet girl.”

“Don’t be hoggin’ the woman, primo.” Santiago sidles up to the passenger door, leaving Will to handle the grill on his own. His sunglasses pushed up into his hair as he reached through the open window to brush an errant wave of hair away from your face and behind your ear. You feel warmth blossom in your chest at the endearing move, grateful for the man that he was and the part he had become in your life even if it had been more than bumpy since meeting him. “Let’s get the week started! C’mon, Fish can unload the truck. I’ve got your favorite beer in the cooler waiting for you, hermosa.”

Before you move through the door Santiago opens for you, you lean over and take Frankie’s face in both your hands to kiss him deeply. Your hands trail down the thickness of his neck to rest atop his shoulders as you scoot across the long bench of the front seat, the center console pushed up. You hook your arms around them to scoot closer to him, pressed your chest flush with his. Tongue licking into his mouth, you sneak your hands into the back of his shirt dip them below his belt and grope at skin beneath. Hoots and hollers rang around the open space hidden in the trees, making your heart soar to be around so many friends, around Frankie.

He seems a little star stuck as you scoot out and walk arm in arm with his best friend toward the hub and bub of the deck, taking a moment before he pushes himself from his won seat behind the wheel and follows suit with a shining grin.

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[melodramaticatheart]

We Have A Deal - Lyra x Gray

word count: 1.2k

book: the grandest game series

ship: lyra kane x grayson hawthorne

requested by anon!

I adjust my crimson dress, the silky fabric whispering against my skin as I glance at Grayson. "You clean up nicely, Mr. Hawthorne," I remark, a hint of a smirk playing on my lips. I’d seen him with a suit on before but never one like this. The color reminds me of stormy clouds, like his eyes. It suits his personality perfectly. I silently chuckle at the wordplay, watching as Grayson parks in front of a valet. The car ride was silent, thirty-five excruciating silent minutes to be exact, it was no wonder why I was going insane making jokes to myself. 

Hawthorne boy had decided to take me out to dinner to discuss the next part of our plan. He’d showed up at my apartment three weeks ago saying he knew who I was and that he wanted to help with my dad’s mysterious suicide, all I want is to go home and regret ever calling him in the first place.

“Ms. Kane, are you going to get out of the car or will I have to carry you out?” I look at my now-open car door and see Grayson extending a hand. I must’ve been lost in thought. “No need Grayson,” I say, staring him right in the eye. I get out of the car without taking his hand. 

The first thing I pick up on is the faint noise of live music. Jazz music. “You like jazz, correct?” I spin to where Grayson is standing, watching me I realize. He looks at me closer waiting for an answer. “Yes I do, I've just never had the pleasure of hearing it live.” I hear the way my voice softens at that last part. I hate how much he knows about me. I was supposed to have the upper hand in this. I quickly dismiss the recurring thought and walk into the club without waiting for him. Sadly he catches up to me in three long strides. I walk beside him silently as he leads me to a booth at the corner of the club. Couples are dancing to the music closer to the back of the club while others enjoy their drinks at the bar to the side. It’s the band that gets my attention most of all. I’ve always wanted to listen to jazz live, but I’d never gotten the opportunity. Vinyls were the closest thing I could get to it. In one word it was electric. “How did you know I liked jazz?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. I turn to the blonde boy sitting in front of me looking for an answer. “The day I went to your apartment for the first time you were listening to the Time Out vinyl. I thought it would be better to bring you to an environment you could be comfortable in.” He’d picked up on that? I can barely remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, but he can remember what music I was listening to three weeks ago? I shift in the booth not knowing how to respond so instead I change the subject. “I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” I stand up running a hand through my dress. “An espresso martini,” Grayson says, looking at me. My eyebrows shoot up. “You drink?” “Rarely, but I think I’m going to need it if I have to deal with you all night” I scowl at his response, making my way to the bar. I order quickly, making my way to our table to continue our impending conversation. “Ok, Hawthorne boy, why did you bring me here?” I say shooting him a look. He takes a sip before hitting me with a question instead of an answer. “Are your classes starting soon, Lyra?” I straighten not expecting that. “They start in two months,” I respond watching as Grayson takes a sip of his espresso before setting it aside. “You want to know what my family has to do with your father's suicide, well it’s not that easy Ms. Kane.” “Nothing’s ever easy with you, Hawthorne boy.” I retort staring him in the eye. “But I’m assuming you didn’t drive me thirty-five minutes to tell me that” A sly smirk starts making its way to my lips.

Grayson’s eyes glint in the dim light of the club. “Maybe I just wanted to bring a pretty girl to a jazz club.” He tilts his head, looking every bit the white rich boy persona I imagine him to be. But I can’t dwell on the fact he just called me pretty because he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket to show me something. “I found this in my family’s home, I thought you’d find it interesting.” He holds out his phone to a picture of a file named Thomas Thomas. “This isn’t my dad,” I say flatly after scanning the page's content.  

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.”

Grayson shifts in his seat taking another sip of his espresso. It was clear he didn’t drink alcohol often with the way his eyes watered at the taste. “Your little riddle and this file are our only clues, at the moment.” He says trying to think of something to say.

I’m about to say something when he cuts me off making me shut my mouth once more. “I have a proposition for you. I’ve been debating it but I don’t see any other way I can help you.” He seems to pause a second before sharing with me his idea. “Every year my family hosts some sort of game this year it’s private. That means we can pick our contestants unlike last year-” “Grayson I know all this. What does that have to do with us?” I cut him off confused with where he’s taking this. He only stares at me. 

That’s when I realize I said ‘us’ as in me and him. A team. I sink back into the booth until he responds. “This year the game is a little different” I watch how he traces the outline of his cup “I want you to be in the games this year.” I can’t help it I burst out laughing, me on an island for two weeks, yeah right “I’m sorry I need a moment, I can’t take you seriously,” I look up to see Grayson’s straight face. The laughter bubbles up again. I wipe at the tears in my eyes before taking a sip of my wine. “No” “Why not? You’d be getting paid, you’d be comfortable, and we would be close so we could work together to figure out more. Plus I’d have more resources there with me.” I watch as he lists the reasons. Good reasons. “Grayson no, I can’t, look they are good reasons but I have a life, I have my mom who would go insane if I didn’t text for two weeks, it won’t work.” I can’t leave my life not when I have her depending on me. “I want to help Lyra I do, it’s been eating at me. And I won’t be able to rest until I’m sure you’re at peace.” He stares at me with those stupid pretty eyes of his. I look away trying to collect myself. 

“If I do this, you have to promise me I'll be able to contact my mom at least once a day.” 

“Deal”

“Ok then Hawthorne Boy, I guess I am one to play games after all.”

⊹‿︵‿୨ི୧‿︵‿⊹

THATS THAT ME ESPRESSO

this is my longest one shot ever but idk i hate my writing 😭

taglist: @heqrtlcss, @reminiscentreader, @urbanflorals, @lyrakanefanatic, @mrswarnerxo

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 32

read on ao3! (146k words) | previous chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Warnings: animal death

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter 32:

Two weeks later

Joel's POV:

“Get your gun out,” Joel commanded, pausing his own movements to watch as Juliet’s hand reached into the pocket of the jacket he had given her. 

That jacket had been with him since before Boston, before he had even met her, and now it hung from Juliet’s shoulders, marking her, in a way, as his.

Those months in Jackson, after he’d pushed her away in the cruellest way possible, Joel watched as Juliet formed a life for herself just as she had all those years ago in the QZ. He would watch her leave for patrol with aching terror weighing him down, and he would see her walk past his house with Ethan as that dark jealousy almost ate him alive. And when Joel came to his senses, and his world was drenched in thick regret, there was one thing that let him hold out hope that he could be forgiven, that there might still be a chance for them: When Juliet left for patrol with Matt, or ate in the dining hall with Ethan, or laughed with Tommy, she was always wearing his jacket. 

That mark of his depraved possession was still on her and Joel knew that deep down their connection remained. 

“I’ll do the talking,” Juliet announced as she tightened her hold on the horse and adjusted her gun in her other hand. 

She looked ready for battle. Her hair tied back in a ponytail and her face wiped clean of any fear. 

Joel still thought this whole trip was the most idiodic thing he’d ever agreed to. But to Juliet, it really was a battle. She was fighting for the truth about who she was, and what was done to her. She didn’t want revenge, Joel had already sorted that for her. Juliet just wanted to find a way to move on, and Joel would fight to give it to her. 

They stood in the field between the edge of the forest they had just travelled through and the fence surrounding Elijah’s community, or that’s what it had once been. Joel feared where the leadership landed following his death. 

Joel released a heavy sigh and focused his gaze on the tall fence in the distance. He didn’t see any movement but that meant nothing. The greatest threats were usually difficult to spot. 

He turned to Juliet behind him, allowing his eyes to sweep down her body. It was a nervous habit, Joel was always searching her body for any signs of hurt. 

When he closed his eyes he still pictured her lifeless body in that metal chair. 

His fists closed around his shotgun, tightening until his knuckles were a stark white. 

“Any sign of trouble, we get the hell outta there. You hear me?” he warned Juliet, already contemplating changing his mind and taking them back to Jackson before they even reached the fence. 

Juliet would find a way to get here on her own, Joel knew she would. That’s why he agreed to this fucked up plan in the first place. 

That crease between her eyebrows formed as she looked at him, then she nodded slowly. Joel allowed himself to take another breath, then another, as he turned back towards the fence. 

“Right, let’s get you some answers.” 

………………

They approached the fence cautiously. Joel walked in front with his gun ready and Juliet was only a few steps behind, holding the reins of his horse who walked beside them. 

The last time they’d been here, Elijah’s men had circled them immediately, having spotted them in the watchtower a mile off. 

Now, there was nothing. No security, no sound. But that’s not what made Joel pause. As they drew closer, he noticed that the towering wooden gate… was open. Almost as though they were waiting for someone to stumble in.

Joel turned back to Juliet, catching her wide eyes with his own. He shook his head quickly before turning back to the fence. He wanted her to stay where she was. Joel was going first.

That voice in his head was screaming at him to turn back. But maybe the town was just abandoned and, if Juliet could see that, they could head home, back to Jackson. Maybe Juliet would learn to live without closure. 

Joel’s already tight jaw tensed even further, his teeth grinding together as he walked quietly to the open gap in the fence and stepped inside. 

With his shotgun raised, Joel sweeped his eyes across the field in front of him and narrowed his gaze towards the buildings in the distance. 

It was empty. 

He stood for another minute, barely breathing as he listened. Still, he could hear no voices and he couldn’t track any movement on the mainstreet. 

Joel had been doing this for long enough to know that this initial observation meant fuck all if there were people hiding out in the houses, or waiting eagerly for him to draw closer before they decided to strike.

Something about this was different, though. He knew the history here. Their leader died a few months ago, and the townspeople seemed useless. Maybe the entire community just fell apart.

But why would they leave? 

“Joel,” a sharp whisper beckoned him to turn around. 

The decision lay heavy on Joel’s chest. They could turn around now, leave this place behind forever, and just put this whole quest behind them. 

Meeting Juliet’s eyes, and seeing the glimmer of sacred hope forged in them, made Joel decide otherwise. 

Slowly, he nodded, and let his shotgun swing from his shoulder as he wedged the fence open wider to allow Juliet and his horse to come through. 

Instantly, Juliet stiffened. She looked as though the weight of her memories were consuming her from the inside. Joel itched to sooth the crease in her forehead and erase every dark thought, but his hands were too rough and he could never find the words. 

“Don’t wanna be in the open too long,” Joel said, squinting in the winter sun, “if Danny is here, we better try and find him.”

Juliet nodded but said nothing, just tightened her grip on the horse and started heading towards the mainstreet. It was like she’d never left this place, the way her shoulders instantly dropped as she walked through the fence. 

Joel ground his jaw and prayed to whatever god still looked down on this wasteland that Danny was still alive and was able to ease the horror that lived in her head. 

…………………….

It was worse than he’d imagined.

Every house was ransacked. Doors were broken down, windows had been smashed in. The glass littered the rickety wooden porches. 

The people here hadn’t left willingly, if they had left at all. 

There were dark patches on the concrete pavement, trailing a map of spilled blood down the street. The stains were black, indicating that this had happened a while ago.

“Raiders,” Juliet whispered as her eyes flashed to him. 

It wasn’t a question but Joel still nodded slowly in silent agreement. They had both lived that life and knew exactly what mark it left behind.

Joel wondered how long the community had held out after Elijah had died.

Juliet let go of the horse’s reins to wipe a hand over her forehead, then she turned to Joel.

“Maybe Danny’s still here… he’s resourceful, he could have survived this,” Juliet said quickly, then paused, biting her lip as the reality of the situation seemed to hit her.

Joel gave her time, his eyes stayed locked on her face as she puzzled over their situation. 

Finally, Juliet inhaled a deep breath. “We came all the way here, we have to try,” she decided, reaching to grip the reins again. 

“Okay,” he ground out through his gritted teeth. 

If he had the guts, he’d throw her over his shoulder, get them both on the horse, and get the fuck out of here. But, in doing so, he’d be sacrificing whatever affection Juliet still had for him and he couldn’t let that go. 

Instead, he stepped in front of her, raised his gun higher and led the way down the street to where he remembered Danny’s “bar” being. If they were doing this, he wasn’t letting a fucking thing happen to her. 

………………..

“Shit,” Joel murmured under his breath as they approached the building. 

Panels of wood had been nailed across the door, blocking all sign of entry, or keeping something out…

“Take the horse,” Juliet said from behind him in a detached voice, as she dropped the reins and began to jog around the side of the building. 

“Juliet,” Joel scolded as he grabbed the reins and followed her. Joel’s heartbeat had begun to roar in his ears, echoing the desperate fear that consumed him when Juliet was out of his sight. 

He watched from behind as Juliet reached the gate around the back of the building and walked inside, with a carelessness that made Joel’s heart wrench. 

Every inch of the town was thick with an almost impossible silence and Joel cringed with every brush of their feet on the concrete. 

When Joel reached her, Juliet was standing at the back door to Danny’s building. Joel dropped the horse’s reins, stalked over to her, and gripped her arm, pulling her in a hard tug towards his body. Once she was plastered to his side, Joel dropped his mouth to her ear.

“What’re you playin’ at?” he demanded, breathless. 

Juliet’s breathing was quick and wild as she turned her head to blink up at him. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Juliet looked dazed, as though she hadn’t realised what she had done. From the looks of it, her mind was back in that basement with Elijah. 

Joel eased his grip on her. 

“You move when I move, that’s it,” he said in a cold voice, his heart still pounding. 

Quickly, Juliet nodded back. 

Joel turned to look behind him, his horse stood patiently inside the fencing that surrounded them. There was still no sign of people, so Joel decided it was safe to leave him out here while they searched the building. 

With his hand still circling Juliet’s arm, Joel swung her around until she was at his back, ignoring the sharp gasp she let out.  

The quiet that surrounded them seemed to scream in his ears like those old white noise machines people used to have. His thoughts condensed into one mantra: get in, get out, keep Juliet safe. 

The handle turned easily and Joel’s eyebrows furrowed. 

He pushed and held his breath as the darkness inside the building beckoned them in. 

It was in this bar that he had met Ethan, who confirmed the worst assumptions Joel had made about Juliet’s father. The memory was like a bitter taste in his mouth, reminding him of his own stupidity. 

He was always too fucking slow. 

Joel took a step inside, then another, and heard Juliet do the same behind him, mimicking his movements in the way only she knew how to do. 

The darkness was fierce as the boarded up doors and windows blocked any light from entering. Joel inhaled a breath and regretted it almost immediately. The air was thick and unusually humid like the bar hadn’t realised outside had turned to winter. 

Once they were in the centre of the room, Joel stopped, reaching a hand behind him until it hovered over Juliet’s waist. Then, he squinted his eyes and attempted to the best of his ability to search every corner of the room, searching for godknows what - 

“Who’s there?” a startled voice rang out in the empty room. 

Joel gripped Juliet’s waist tighter, pressing her to his back, shielding her with his body. He couldn’t see a damn thing, didn’t even know what direction the voice came from. 

Suddenly, he was blinking as an oil lamp was turned on, bathing the room in a soft, warm light.

Juliet stepped around Joel’s body. “Danny?” 

“Juliet?”

Joel stiffened as he took in the man before them. This was not the bartender he remembered. This man’s face was unshaven and his body looked as though he hadn’t eaten a thing in several weeks. His eyes were the worst. They had that starved look about them, the look that usually meant that he’d forgotten what it meant to want anything other than a meal. 

“Jesus,” he coughed out, stumbling closer as he walked around tables and chairs with a stiff, painful looking gait. “The last time I saw you, you were bleeding out on a table.”

Juliet’s entire body recoiled and Joel flexed his hand around the trigger of his gun. 

“What are you doing back here?” Danny asked cautiously, scratching his head. 

Joel looked down at Juliet, but she was just staring ahead at the man, looking as though she’d seen a ghost. And maybe she had; it didn’t look like there was much life clinging to the man. 

“What happened here? Where is everyone?” she asked quietly, in a voice barely above a whisper. 

Danny’s lips spread into a thin line as he slumped into one of the chairs, having grown breathless from his short walk across the room. With a trembling hand, he reached out in front of him, gesturing at the other chairs. “Take a seat,” he grunted. 

The man couldn’t have been older than his mid-forties, but he had aged rapidly in the last few months. It was hard to imagine this being the same man who helped him restrain Ethan in the back room. 

Juliet carefully lowered her gun and stepped forward towards Danny. Joel did the same, but his gun didn’t drop an inch. Once they were both seated, the weight of Juliet’s unanswered questions hung between them, unable to be ignored. 

Danny sighed and shot a look behind him before he leaned forward until his sharp elbows rested on the table. Joel shifted in his seat, positioning his gun under the table to face towards its potential target, should he need it. 

“Please,” Juliet breathed in a voice far gentler than he expected, “what happened?” 

Joel looked at Danny and watched as his eyes softened at the sight of Juliet’s pleading. The sight made him wonder what kind of friendship they had before she left town. Joel remembered the horror on his face when he saw Juliet on that metal table, with the evidence of her father’s hate etched on her body. The healed scars on Juliet’s body told him that her spilled blood was not an unusual sight in this town. How could a man stomach to watch a young girl go through that and still stand by the man who made her bleed? 

Joel’s finger hovered over the trigger.

Finally, Danny ran his hand through the greasy strands on his balding head and met Juliet’s eyes. 

“Things fell apart pretty quick after Elijah died,” he began. Joel didn’t miss the way his glassy gaze flickered to him. 

“Your father liked his secrets,” Danny said with a strange smile as he clasped his hands in front of him. “It was the mark of a great leader, I’d always thought. He made sure we didn’t know everything, to keep us from carrying the burden of the town.”

Joel’s eyes hit the ceiling as he puffed out a breath. 

Danny ignored his reaction and continued. “He told the town that they were the only survivors. It was a lie, of course, but a necessary one. It kept people from wanting beyond their means -”

“And it kept people dependent on him,” Juliet cut him off sharply, shifting in her chair to cross her arms over her chest. 

Danny laughed, and Joel was struck by an intense urge to squeeze a little tighter on the trigger. 

“Well, yes. I suppose it did. What I was trying to say was… your father held those secrets a little too close to his chest. Meant that when he died, we had no access to his suppliers anymore,” Danny grew quieter, his eyes locked on his hands. 

“Your father was a God to these people,” Danny paused, shaking his head, “when they found out he died….” 

He scratched his neck, turning to look back over his shoulder. 

Joel’s eyebrows lifted. 

“So where is everyone?” he demanded. 

Danny’s eyes thinned. “Did you not see the streets? They’re all dead,” he swallowed and dropped his hands back onto the table, “raiders got to us, we had no defences left. I’m the only one left.” 

Ain’t that convenient.

“What are you doing here, Juliet?” Danny asked, pointedly avoiding Joel’s stare.

She shifted in her seat. 

“That night, when I came back… my father told me something before he died. I have to know if it’s true,” Juliet answered as she straightened her spine. 

Danny’s eyebrows furrowed. “What did he say?” 

Juliet swallowed and Joel ached to touch her, but he was too tense. Being gentle wasn’t an option for him. 

“He told me that I wasn’t really his daughter, said that he killed my real parents,” Juliet revealed in an almost robotic voice, distancing herself from her emotions. 

Joel kept watch of Danny’s face, tracking his reaction like a hunter. 

It looked like he was doing a damn good job of not reacting at all, apart from the slight quiver of his lip as she continued to stare at Juliet. 

“Your father told you that?” he asked quietly. 

Juliet nodded. “Was he telling the truth?” 

Danny dropped eye contact with Juliet, leaned back in his chair, and for the third time since they had sat down, he looked over his shoulder towards the back door. 

That instinct that had guided Joel for the past twenty years, the instinct he should have listened to all those months ago when they first walked through this town, was roaring at him to bolt. Something wasn’t right here. 

Joel stood, bringing his shotgun with him. “Who else is in this town?” he demanded, flicking his eyes between Danny and the back door. 

Danny’s eyes widened and he held his hands in front of him. They were still trembling. 

“Joel,” Juliet hissed, moving to stand beside him, trying her best to get him to look at her. 

Danny broke out into a sick cough, pulling their attention to him. “No one,” he said between thick breaths. “Just me, I told you.” 

“Joel, what are you doing? He knows something!” Juliet protested, gripping his arm to lower his shotgun. 

“I know he does,” Joel agreed coldly, then turned his focus back to Danny. “Why’d you keep looking behind you?” he challenged.

Danny’s hands were still in front of him. “I haven’t! Just put the gun down and we can talk about this,” his eyes darted to Juliet, “I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Please, Joel,” Juliet whispered to him, seemingly blinded to all danger by her desperate need to know the truth. 

But he knew what was best. He knew how to protect her, even when she couldn’t do it herself. 

So, Joel stepped around the table and stalked through the room towards the back door. Juliet was on his heels. 

“I swear, there’s no one out there,” Danny called out behind them, struggling to match their pace. 

When Joel’s hand reached the door, he paused, listening. Beside him, Juliet did the same, slowing her breathing. Seconds later, she looked up at him and Joel watched as her eyes darted to the door with a nod. Juliet’s self preservation had returned. 

He nodded back and held up his hand, asking her to wait, to trust him. Juliet pulled her gun out and flipped the safety off, nodding back. 

Her faith in him nearly sent Joel to his knees. 

His hand met the cool metal handle and he turned, pushing the door open only an inch. Joel turned back as the winter sun streamed in, illuminating the red hidden in Juliet’s deep brown hair. 

Then he pushed the door open further, and stepped out into the small courtyard. His head turned quickly, scanning the area for any movements. His horse was -

Where was his horse? 

Hot blood rushed in Joel’s ears as his gaze dipped. 

No.

The carcass barely resembled the creature they had ridden here on. 

It lay on its side, with black eyes now devoid of life. The head was the only part of him still intact. Its torso had been split open, its ribs had been cracked and only red nothingness remained inside. 

Shock didn’t usually get to Joel, but the sight made him pause. 

Time slowed to a crawl. He should have called out to Juliet, yelled at her to slam the door closed, to lock herself inside. The words coated his tongue but he couldn’t get them out. 

Whoever did this was still here, waiting, lingering. They had probably been watching them the whole time. 

He didn’t know where to look. They could be anywhere.

Time started to speed up again and Joel’s head turned as his warning began to leave his lips. 

“Stay insi-”

His world tilted so suddenly, Joel wondered, for a split-second, if the world had been knocked off its axis. Then the pain exploded across the side of his head.

Joel’s vision blurred as he dropped to his knees on the biting concrete. His shotgun slammed to the ground beside him, echoing the sound across the walls of the courtyard. 

A piercing scream unleashed from a direction he couldn’t figure out, he thought the voice called his name but his head hit the ground and he couldn’t hear anymore.

He was always too fucking slow. 

___________________________

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom @joelmillersblog @socialistmary @orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @caitlynsixxx

[asvterias]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟤: 𝖠 𝖢𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗇’𝗌 𝖬𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖲𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗌

the cast // series masterlist

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4 || chap. 5

word count: 3.6k+

tag list: @s0r0ws @starvviss @kjisbae17 @lov3rgirllll @starless-nightz @random-girls-loves

author’s note: so reader calls her biological parent ‘mom’ and percy calls his biological parent ‘mom’ too so they call their non-biological parent ‘mother’, i hope that’s not too confusing! anyways, i hope you liked this chapter! please don’t be a silent reader and interact within the chapter.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

‼️ DISCLAIMERS FOR THIS CHAPTER ‼️

Probably Left on a Cliffhanger ☺️

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

Upon returning to New York, the scenery was cloudy, indicating a heavy rainstorm was expected. Once your driver reached the parking lot of your parents’ apartment, you two grabbed your bags and thanked the person. By the time you headed inside the apartment complex, the rain started to lightly pour down, casting a gloomy aura over the entire state.

You dug for the key in your bag, and opened the apartment door, letting Percy enter first and you after. Shutting the door behind you and discarding your bags on the floor as you wandered the apartment. It was scarily empty and silent for your parents to be home. You knew they both came off work early today since the school call, preparing for your return. So, where were they?

The siblings explore deeper into their home, expectantly hoping to see their parents until they notice two figures outside in the window, sitting in the rain.

At first, you froze, being caught off guard, but came to your senses when you realized it was just your parents.

Why were they in the rain? They know they can get sick, right?

Your blonde brother looked up at you before turning back to your unaware parents.

“Mom…” Percy hesitantly starts, “Mother.”

Your parents perked up at the familiar sound of the voice and began to climb through the window, now sheltered again, walking towards you two.

“We’re really sorry, we tried this time. You know how hard it’s been, but this time, it really wasn’t Percy’s fault, it really wasn’t my fault.” You rambled on, tugging on your newly done braids out of nervousness, desperate for them to believe you.

You expected a huge lecture from your mom for being reckless but you didn’t get your ear talked off. To your surprise, your drenched parents pulled you two into a tight hug, but confused as ever, you reciprocated the hug.

“We’re all wet, now,” Percy complains.

“I’m sorry, we’re just very glad to see you two.” They pulled away from the hug, grabbing the two nearby towels from the ironing board and drying themselves with it.

“They called me first.” Your mom points out, “He told me what he thinks happened with Nancy Bobofit.”

Hearing those words, Percy nods embarrassingly and looks down in disappointment.

“I told him I believe my kids, it was a real short call. I hung up on him right after too.”

For a minute, you and Percy both seemed relieved at that information, happy to know that your parents would believe you without any hesitation.

“Hey, all that matters is that you’re both here, okay?” Sally reassures you two, resting both hands on either side of you and Percy’s cheeks.

“Yes, all safe and sound too,” Jessica smiles gently, ruffling your hair, and observing your new box-braids hairstyle. There were some white small clamped seashell hair jewelry dangling in your hair.

“And… your mother and I had enough time to get you this. Think of it as a welcome home gift.” Jessica hands you a small cellophane gift bag and Percy is given the same from Sally.

While Percy’s bag contained variations of blue candies, yours was filled with multiple beach shells, both consisting of different colors, sizes, and shapes, each one expressing a personal unique symbolic nature behind. You gasped in admiration, shuffling the tiny bag in your hand, and observing the beautiful seashells.

“Oh, I love it, thanks mom!” You enthusiastically cheered, hugging the mini bag to your chest.

“No problem, sweetheart,”

Seashells. Since you could have walked, you collected seashells when you spent a day at the beach with your family, showing them off to your mother. Seashells reminded you of the ocean and kept you close to the ocean. It was the one piece of sanity life blessed you with, out of all the absurdity you experienced, seashells at the beach kept you calm.

Even though, there were some questionable moments like when a hermit crab began crawling and talking to you. Or when the fishes swam around you simultaneously like you were in control of them, never dispersing away until your command and not your small kicks of intimidation.

You didn’t know why you’ve always felt connected to the ocean, but you just were. Percy never felt connected to the water as much as you did, only settling with you on the shoreline whenever you’d make sandcastles. Let’s just say, it took your younger brother a couple more years to adjust to the aquatic environment. He’d only stay calm for bubble baths, comforted that someone was there to supervise him, but other than that, he’d throw the meanest temper tantrum ever to exist.

Luckily as the years passed by, so did his resistance to water. During your monthly beach visits, Percy enjoyed the ocean, still never lingering too far away from your parents’ sight. It was the way to keep himself safe and to avoid his parents and sister’s worries. Although he was the baby of the family, in which he loved all the attention from his sister and mothers, he needed his personal space.

“Mr. Brunner called me too. He told us about Grover. So you wanna talk about it?” Percy stayed quiet at the question, only keeping his head down to avoid his parents’ peering eyes. “Is there something else you wanna talk about?” She repeated herself.

“Something happened to me. Something has been happening to me…to Y/N too.”

“And it’s more than just our minds wandering and it got worse, so worse to that point where it actually felt real and everyone else is so blind to it or either ignoring it and it’s driving me crazy.” You explained.

“…We’re scared,” Percy admitted.

Your parents looked at each other, seemingly talking through eye contact. What’s with the secretive communication?

“We have a lot to talk about, but uh, that storm out there, it’s getting angrier, so let’s get ahead of it.” Your mom walked to the couch, grabbing her purse and jacket.

“We’ll talk at the beach, okay? You two, pack a bag, come on,” Your mother demands.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

There was a thunderstorm, lightning cracking heavily throughout the dark night sky and rainfall was pattering as you and Percy struggled to see ahead. In the far distance, there was a yellow source of light, probably a lantern illuminating its crooked figure.

“Who are you?” The mysterious figure croakily asked, “Two children so weak, so scared, so sad. Run away, little heroes before you two get hurt.”

Finally, the lightning cracks and you jump out of your sleep, indicating the end of the unusual dream.

The drive to the cabin was rough and rainy, the car front window made it difficult to see the road, but you all prevailed through it. Your mother, Sally, parks the car a few feet away from the house.

“We’re here.”

“Wait, we’re not running out in the rain, are we?” You questioned, sensing your parents’ shared glance and a smirk forming on Percy’s lips.

“Why, yes, dear sister, we definitely are.”

“Ok, everyone,” The family of four grabbed onto their own door handles, ready to hurriedly exit the car to win the race.

“1…2…3…Go!”

All four of the car doors burst open and everyone came running out of the vehicle, bags in hand and feet running in dirty mud as a mixture of laughs echoed in the air.

Reaching the cabin’s front door, stomping off the tracks of mud on the doormat as the family of four anxiously waited for your mother to search for the key and unlock the door, allowing everyone inside first.

Everyone took a shower to refresh themselves, and to prepare for the rainy night.

Your mother and brother were talking in the kitchen while you and your mom painted each other’s toenails in the living room surrounded by desk lamps and a fireplace, having your own conversation.

“Hey…Mom, I have a question.”

She remained focused, painting your pinky toe with precise detail, “Yeah, sure? What is it, sweetie?”

“Am I enough for you and mother?”

This made Jessica’s movements halt abruptly, slowly staring up at you.

“Of course, you’re good enough for me and your mother,” Her eyes squinted in confusion as she cleared her throat, looking down at the nail polish before closing it, “What brought this question on?”

“I was just wondering, y’know how Percy’s special all the time so everyone’s attention must be focused on him all the time…It's just that sometimes,” You sigh exhaustively, unable to arrange your thoughts into coherent sentences. “I feel like I’m so out of balance like I’m a huge burden to this family. I was meant to only be the protector of this family and nothing else in life.”

“You’re just as important as everyone else in this family. You are my firstborn child, my one and only daughter, I love you so much. I’m so sorry if me or your mother have neglected you to attend to Percy’s needs more. And we’ll both try to spend equally quality time with you and Percy.” Your mom reassures you, tears brimming in her eyes as she sniffles lightly, wiping the stray tears away from your cheek. “I’m so so sorry, you have to believe me. I never did anything to intentionally hurt you and I love you from the bottom of my heart. Yes, you may consider yourself as the protector of this family, but I don’t want you to carry that burden at such a young age.”

Overwhelmed by her emotions, your mom gently beckoned you over with a soothing hug, smiling softly when you hugged back. You nodded at the comforting feeling you’d been so absent from, wrapping your arms tightly around her shoulders, letting the remaining tears fall.

“I can tell you anything, right?”

“Yes, sweetheart, of course,”

At that, she disconnected the hug, disposing of the astray tears with a quiet sniffle.

“I also had a sinking feeling in my stomach all day, telling me….debating that something is going to happen, something horrible and I won’t be able to stop it in time, and I’ll regret it so much to the point where I convinced myself it’s all my fault. I’m so scared, Mom,” You whispered, shaking your head as the tears built up again, temporarily affecting your eye vision.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she frowned. “Listen to me that’s not going to happen, we’re all going to survive, I’m certain of it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, baby,”

You held your pinky finger out, “Pinky promise?”

“You can’t trust my word?”

“This is just for my own good.”

She laughs, interlocking her pinky finger with yours, verifying the promise.

“Can’t go back on your word anymore.”

You let go of her pinky finger. “I never intended to.”

Another two presences entered the living room as your mom kissed your forehead, imprinting a faint dark red lipstick stain.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Percy asked, noticing your solemn face and slight tears rolling down your cheeks.

“It’s fine, Percy,” You hastily wiped the tears away with your long-sleeved shirt. You attempted to hide your sniffles with a couple of fake coughs but your brother remained unconvinced.

Sally turns to her wife, Jessica, with a questioning gaze and raised eyebrows at the sad sight of your crying face. Jessica tilts her head to the side, brushing it off and Sally nods in understanding.

“Y/N and Percy sit down, we have something very important to tell you.”

Percy squeezes himself into the same one-person chair that you were currently occupying and gives you a half-lipped smile.

“Talk?” Your mom stares at her wife, “About what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I thought we agreed on this…—“

“Yes, I know we agreed but it’s becoming too dangerous for them to be in the dark for this long.” Sally explains, ignoring her children’s confused looks, “Percy just told me one of those creatures came for them in an unconscious state, we don’t have any more time to procrastinate on, it’s either now or never.”

Your mom deeply inhales sitting on the couch beside you and Sally sits on the other couch, beside Percy. “Fine.” She brushes the braid dangling in your face away behind your ear, partially caressing your cheek. “Just know me and your mother are doing this for your safety.”

It was almost as if your presence gave Percy the confidence to confess to your parents how he’d really been feeling these past couple of months.

“I’m used to feeling weird. I’m used to the world feeling weird to me. Like a puzzle with half the wrong pieces. I try to pay attention. I really try, but…then I’m daydreaming. I can’t help it. But lately…it hasn’t felt like daydreaming, it’s felt, I don’t know, more real, maybe?” Percy looks at you, “And when me and Y/N were at the museum–“

“You saw something,” Your mother, Sally assumes. “Something that felt real to you and your sister, but no one else could see?”

“What did she say to you?”

“Oh, this is beyond creepy ass shit,” You whispered to yourself.

Your mom overheard your comment and nudged you to the side with a demanding gaze. “Who told your ass to start cussing?! I never said you could, and neither did your mother.”

“She? How did you know it was a she?”

Instead of answering the question, your mother deflected by asking another question. “Do you know why we come to this cabin every year?”

“Because it’s near the septic tanks, so it’s cheap.”

“Ewww, is that the reason why we visit here?”

“Mom, how did you know about that thing we saw?” Percy insists on his question, desperately awaiting an honest explanation.

“We come to this place every year because this is the place where me and Sally met your father,” Jessica concluded.

“Our dad? What does that deadbeat man have to do with this? Any of this absurdity going on with me and Percy’s lives?” You asked.

“A long time ago, I met a man, here on the beach. He was wise and brave and kind and noble.”

Oh great, a story time on how they met your father. If he was so fucking great, then where the hell is he now?

“It’s not great to give him all that credit, my love,” Jessica disagrees, “It was the bare minimum any man could do for a woman.” See, even your own mom agrees with your perspective on him.

“Anyways…do you want me to finish this or do you have it?”

“Oh no, I have nothing nice to say about that asshole. So please, my love, continue.”

“From that moment, I saw that I had never met a man like him before and neither did Jessica. And then I realized he was unlike any man I had ever met before…because he wasn’t a man at all. He was a god.”

To be honest, it took you and Percy some time to actually recognize the hidden meaning behind her secret.

“…You fell in love with God? Like…— like Jesus?”

“Oh my god, we’re Jesus’ children,” you said, leaning back into your chair. “I- I don’t even know what to say right now! I'm at such a loss for words.”

“No you’re not Jesus’ children,” Jessica clarifies quickly. “And not God. A god. Y/N and Percy, the stories that me and your mother have told you about Greek gods and heroes and monsters, they are real.”

“Mom—“

“In those stories, we have told you about how gods and mortals would sometimes have children together…”

“Mom, please, stop..” You pleaded but she didn’t listen.

“Those children are called demigods…and sometimes they are known as half-bloods.”

“That’s what the monster called us.” Percy recalls, “Last I checked I wasn’t no reptile,”

“You idiot, that’s cold-blooded, a reptile.” You corrected your brother with a roll of your eyes, “She called us, half-bloods? Is that supposed to be an insult or a threat to our lives, Mother?”

“A threat, definitely a threat,” The brunette woman answered.

“For which one?”

“Which one do you think, Percy?”

“This is no time for guessing games, you two!” Your mom shouts, her attitude getting the best of her.

“What’s happening?”

“You two are half-bloods and half-bloods are not safe in the world.”

“You mean we’re not safe in your world, the human world. There’s a magical or supernatural world built for people like us, right? Is that what you’re implying?” You summarized.

“Yes, that’s exactly it!” Sally nods reassuringly, “Attagirl, babydoll,”

“Once they reach a certain age and they begin to understand what they are, terrible forces are drawn to them, driven to harm them before they can become strong enough to fight back. That is what you two have been feeling. It has always been a part of who you are, it was always coming, your mother and I just—“

“Why are you telling us this now?”

“I know that this is hard to understand, but you have to believe us that this is real.”

Percy jumps up from the chair, startling you a little by his random outburst. “No, this is crazy, okay? I am not a god. Y/N’s not a god. There is something wrong with my brain. I understand that I’m weird, believe me, I get it, but I’m afraid something may be really broken now.”

“Oh, baby, no—“ Jessica whispers, reaching her hands out for Percy’s with tears forming in her eyes.

Why is everyone crying all of a sudden?

“And now you’re telling me stories like it’s gonna make it okay? Well, I’m not a baby! I know there’s no such thing as monsters or gods and I know for certain that there is no such thing as demigods.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, my naive blondie of a little brother, why would they lie about that?” You shrugged, sarcasm laced in your tone, “It’s not like they’re being hunted and killed for accepting being a demigod, oh right, that’s happening now!”

Interrupted by rapid knocks on the cabin door made you jump a little in surprise and everyone looked at the door.

“Who’s there?”

“Mrs. Jackson or Mrs. Matthews? It’s Grover.”

It was Percy’s best friend, Grover.

“Grover?”

“What is Grover doing here? Please don’t tell me he’s one of us.”

“More complicated than that.” Sally whistles, scratching the back of her head.

“This is a little time-sensitive. Could someone maybe open the door?”

“What is he doing here? I don’t wanna see him.”

Your mom, Jessica, got up from her seat and went to open the door. She opened the door halfway, talking to Grover, keeping the conversation low.

“We asked to have the night with them, you said we could all leave in the morning.”

“Sorry, I’m early, but I didn’t have any choice. Things have changed, this is all developing a lot faster than we anticipated.”

At that, your mother, Sally got up and walked over to the front door.

“Early?” You and Percy shared confused looks.

He was soaked from the rain and hurried inside the cabin, incoherently talking about revealing the big secret.

“You should asked me before you—“

“Whatever it is you’re gonna say, I don’t wanna…hear it. Grover...” Your eyes trailed down to his lower body. At first, you gasped in bewilderment and disgust but were unable to display another reaction to this current crisis.

“Percy.” Grover briefly acknowledges the blonde boy.

“Okay, so something’s coming.”

“Grover…”

“And I know that sounds really bad.”

“Grover…?”

“But the important thing is not to panic.”

“I’m not panicking.” Jessica retorts.

“Great! I’m also definitely not panicking!”

“Grover, you’re a terrible liar,” You snorted.

“I feel very good about how we’re doing so far—“

“Grover!” Percy exclaims, waringly looking down at his friend’s lower body, or rather the lack thereof. Shockingly enough, his lower body wasn’t one of a human’s but one of the legs of an animal, specifically a goat.

“What?” Grover snapped, turning his head to the siblings, hitting his hoove against the wooden floor.

“Grover, why is there half a goat in your pants?”

“Oh, it’s...” The young boy looked down at his own legs.

“Did your mom fuck a goat or something?” The question had to be asked, but it yet remained to be answered.

“Oh! Oh boy, your parents didn’t tell you about…” He trails off, turning to them, “You didn’t tell them about me?!” He shouts accusingly.

“You’re early.” Jessica sucks her teeth.

“Very early.” Sally includes.

“So, the important thing is not to panic…” Grover sends an uneasy smile your way. If anything that made your anxiety skyrocket through the sky.

“Oh, we’re not panicking, well at least I know I’m not.” You paused, staring at your brother’s dumbfounded face, “I just have questions, and a lot of them.”

Percy continued to analyze his friend’s goat legs and skeptically stared at his face.

“We’ll continue this in the car. Let’s go,” Sally ushers everyone out of the cabin and Jessica grabs the car keys.

“Y/N and Percy bring your bags.”

You groaned internally, it seemed as if you were just lugging that one bag everywhere.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

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[bleachification]

⸻ CH. SIX; A HAVEN FOR ONE IS A HAVEN FOR NONE

pairing: dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of war and violence

chapter list: this is CHAPTER SIX of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the previous chapters before this one or you will be very lost!!

link to previous chapters: prologue

word count: 1.6k

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

Dinner is interrupted by the screams of dying men. You are halfway through your second flute of champagne and getting increasingly irritated at Dazai’s tardiness when the world outside explodes in a kaleidoscope of smoke and flames. At first, you are unable to grasp the situation when the attacks strike, but as you slowly turn to the looming floor-to-ceiling windows sprawled across the wall to your left, you swiftly become all-too aware of the current reality. The glass panels act as a clear, unfiltered lens to the horrors unfolding. Each succeeding blast is powerful enough that their tremors breach the palace walls, splitting open the floor tiles. In just two minutes time, you count three in total. 

Dazai still has not arrived for dinner. 

BOOM!

Four in total. 

The city—no—the Kingdom is on fire, and terror spreads across the land. It is so dark, so palpable, you can feel its heavy weight in your veins. All you can do is sit and stare through the safety of the palace, nestled on a hilltop miles above the carnage ravaging its nation’s people. 

The servants gasp and shriek, panic blinding them to reason. Warning bells ring in cacophony. The explosions do not stop. 

Five. 

A gentle but firm hand grips your shoulder. “Your Highness, we must leave. It is dangerous–!” The butler never finishes his sentence. One moment he is urging you to action, the next he is frozen. The elderly man gasps, and it is the last thing he does before dropping to the floor. Dead. 

You shoot out of your seat, hands trembling. Blood seeps from a huge gaping wound in his chest. From it, a large hunk of metal juts out. A mere moment ago, the object had flown through the window so fast that if not for its size, you would have mistaken it for a hunting arrow. But an arrow it could never be. The horribly large instrument’s identity was clear to you. The butler had been killed by a stray fragment of shrapnel.

Blood-curdling screams echo across the room. The servants, faced with the corpse, all scramble out in fear and disgust. You are the only one left in the dining hall. Well. You and the dead man, together in the dining hall that no longer resembles its namesake. Glass litters the floor, rained down when the debris broke through. Meals and flutes of wine have found new homes on the ground, the latter mixing with the pungent iron puddle pooling around the butler. It is a disaster. Carnage. Violence in its rawest form.  

Six. 

You start to feel sick. 

The door bursts open, just another background noise in the midst of chaos. In a daze, you reach for a table corner to steady yourself, not bothering to check who had just rushed in. You don’t need to. The footsteps are all too familiar—Dazai has finally arrived. 

“[Name]. You’re alright. Thank god.” Dazai’s tone slightly wobbles, but the panic in his eyes subsides when he sees you. “Come with me. There is a safe passage–“

Dazai reaches out to you, a gentle hand resting on your shoulder, but you wrench yourself out of his grasp. 

“No.”

He shakes his head. “[Name], I have no time for any stubbornness you may–”

Again, you refute him. “I’m not being stubborn! How dare you accuse me of such a thing in this situation.”

“Then what will you call this?” He gestures to your stillness, unmoving even as Dazai gently tugs on your arm. “Just…orderly defiance? Disobedience? Pure and utter rebellion? Should I go on?!”

“I do not need nor want to enter whatever safe house you have conjured up for emergencies such as this,” you scoff. 

“Are you even hearing yourself? Yes, precisely! An emergency. Which means you have to evacuate somewhere safe!”

Safe? A man has just died in front of you while trying to help you. The earth is giving way to explosives; craters forming underneath fresh footprints and innocent flesh. There is nowhere safe. 

“Leave me be. Go attend to your people.”

Dazai falters. “Are you joking?” At your serious expression, he steps closer. Incredulity colours the sharp planes of his face. “Did you hit your head?”

“With what motive would I have to joke in these circumstances?”

“Then why are you asking for such a ridiculous thing? We must ensure your safety. I must.”

“My safety? Despite…” You wave your hand at the body on the floor. “This? My safety is not a priority. It should not even be a concern.”

“What on earth are you talking about? You are the throne’s–”

“I am one person! One. Meanwhile, hundreds of people are dying as we stand here and argue. Your people. I may despise you, but I won’t take that hatred out on civilians. I will not hide away in a corner while others are suffering. I refuse to.”

Dazai’s demeanor softens. Just a tad. “What exactly do you expect to do?”

“To investigate. To aid the injured and frightened. To help in any way possible and end this madness.” You run a hand through your hair, the sounds of assault has stopped, but the screams from the aftermath still echo the skies. Every moment stood arguing with Dazai is another moment lost. You itch to run. 

“That is beyond your capability and not your responsibility.”

You ignore the slight dig from the first part. “Then what is? Am I not one half of the crown? Partial to this nation’s leadership?”

“You are, but–”

“But what? What could possibly–”

“You are not one of us! You are…”

An outsider. 

You take a step back. “I never claimed to be one of you.” It is not something you’d ever desire either—to belong to a traitor's nation. 

“[Name]. That’s not what I meant.” Dazai reaches out, but freezes at your retreat. His arm lowers and he sighs defeatedly. 

“Is it not? You’re right. I’m not one of you. I am from the Empire—from enemy lands. An invader. Not even a polished crown and fancy title could erase that, could it?”

“That is… besides the point.” You both know it is not. “You cannot go out there.”

Your foot taps against the hardwood floor, impatient and driven by nerves. “And why not?”

“Who do you think is attacking us?”

“I…” you falter. A moment passes. “I don’t know.”

For almost a millennia, the Kingdom has had no enemies other than the Empire, but the nations had eventually come to a peace agreement. That was the entire point of your marriage to Dazai.

“The people here have lived under the cloak of war for decades. Years and years of devastation have turned them against the Empire. In their minds—even if it’s untrue—your nation is the perpetrator. As it always has been to them. Even if we are allies on paper, the victims of the past will not forget such brutalities. If you go out there…”

Shit. He’s right. 

You sigh, relenting. “I’ll likely be torn to shreds just for the blood running through my veins.”

He winces. “Unfortunately.”

You slump into a chair behind you, hands rubbing against your weary face in an attempt to weather away the fatigue. “Then if not my father, who is responsible? You must have a guess, at least.”

Dazai’s eyebrows scrunch together like they always do whenever he thinks. “I… yes. Yes, of course. It is most likely a rebellion group acting against the royal lineage. One of the four noble families’ doing. I will assign someone to investigate immediately.”

You swallow, unconvinced. There is no indication that Dazai is lying, but for whatever reason, doubt stirs unsettlingly in your gut. You push it down in favor of gaining more information. 

“The head houses of the nobility? They oppose the crown? I thought they were pillars of the monarchy—there to maintain your throne.”

Dazai lets out a sharp bark of laughter, humorless at best. “My father’s throne. Not mine.  These days, those vultures will do anything to pick away at my reign until there is nothing left. Then, they’ll swoop in, laying claim to the country and its fortunes.”

You shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond or react to his sincerity. So you decide to change the subject instead. 

“We’re wasting time. The attacks have stopped, but the people still require… your help.” 

Not mine, you think. They would sooner accept my death than my aid. 

Dazai opens his mouth, no doubt to protest, but is interrupted by the frantic call of another. A short soldier with sullied armour rushes inside, chest heaving from exertion. 

“Sire!” The young man closes the distance with short but swift strides, straw blonde hair matted to his forehead from sweat and grime. 

“Kenji. Report.”

“Six devices. Each manually detonated.” The soldier salutes. 

The news falls upon you like a sack of stones. 

“You’re telling me…?” 

Kenji grimaces at the low snarl his liege makes, and perhaps at the fury in your eyes as well. “Yes, sire. The explosives were set off by suicide bombers. They were all in public, high-traffic, civilian areas.”

Oh god. Oh god!

“How many?” Dazai sounds murderous. 

Kenji looks down, the soldier seeming much younger in that instance. A child. One that has no business in battlefields and suits of armour. “Four-hundred and thirteen. That we know of.”

“Capture?”

“One. Tried to bite his pill, but we got him in time.”

“Cellar B?”

“Correct, sire.”

Dazai nods slowly. “Send Fukuzawa down to meet me there. Tell him it is High category.”

Without another word or glance to anyone, the king turns and walks out, leaving you to wade in a deep, numb tension that seems to want to engulf you in its misery. Kenji hurriedly scurries after him, and the moment you are alone, your knees hit the floor. Deep breaths turn into strangled heaves, and a familiar despair overwhelms you. 

With your head in your hands, for the first time since arriving, you let yourself weep.

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday @lacunanonymoused @bejeweledgirl @nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Seventy

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

I cannot believe we are at chapter 70!! As I always say, I love this version of them so much, and I am constantly blown away by the love you've shown for them too.

When I first started writing SGW, I initially intended to end it around the end of season 7, and now we are on the cusp of starting season 7 in this universe...I can't imagine ending it so soon! So, as I always say - as long as you're still reading and enjoying...I'll keep writing it <3

I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 2.6k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron frowns curiously as he closes the car door, his eyes fixed on the delivery truck parked on his driveway. 

He feels a familiar sense of relief as he steps into his home, the weight he would always carry on his shoulders in the outside world disappearing the second he closes the door behind him. 

“Daddy’s home!” Emily says from the living room, her voice full of joy. He follows the sound of it, abandoning his go bag in the foyer, desperate to see his family after being away for a few days. He smiles as soon as he sees them, all sitting on the floor together, Lily sitting between Emily’s legs with Jack opposite them, one of Lily’s favourite toys between them. Aaron is barely in the living room when Jack runs at him, his arms tight around his legs as he beams up at him. 

“Hi Daddy, I missed you,” Jack says, giggling as Aaron picks him up and tickles him, stamping a kiss against his son’s cheek.

Emily stands up and then picks up Lily, resting the little girl on her hip as she walks over, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s lips, smiling widely as she pulls back, “I missed you too.” 

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss Lily’s forehead before he runs his knuckles down her cheek, “I missed all of you.” 

“You’re back for Lily’s birthday party tomorrow!” Jack exclaims, clapping his hands as Aaron kisses him again and then puts him down. 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, buddy,” he says, winking at his wife as their eyes meet. They’d both been disappointed when the team had been pulled onto a case just a few days ago, and he’d worried he’d miss his little girl’s first birthday. He’d felt nothing short of relieved when they’d caught the unsub, using information Penelope had found seemingly out of nowhere to catch him. Aaron had decided it was best he didn’t ask too many questions, more than happy to rely on plausible deniability if it got him home in time for his little girl’s birthday.  He looks at his wife, his curiosity finally getting the better of him, “Why is there a truck in the driveway?” 

She sighs and kisses Lily’s temple before she sets her down, “Jack, can you look after your sister for me a minute?” She smiles when he nods enthusiastically and leads Aaron out of the room, coming to a stop in the hallway just outside the living room, “My mother sent Lily a gift,” she says, keeping her voice low so the kids don’t hear her. “There are two men building it in the backyard as we speak.” 

He frowns, looking back and forth between his wife and the back of the house, “Did you just say building it?”

Emily hums as she nods and presses her lips together, her arms crossed over her chest, “It’s a playhouse. But it’s huge,” she says through gritted teeth, “You could fit in it,” she says emphatically and he tries to clear his throat to stop himself from laughing, but he doesn’t quite manage it, “You think I’m kidding?” She casts a glance at Jack and Lily, satisfied they’d be fine for a few moments, and then grabs Aaron’s bicep and tugs him to the kitchen where the large pane windows give a good view of the backyard, “Look at it.” 

His response is cut off as he looks out the window, his eyes going wide as he takes in the giant, bright pink, castle that was being built at the bottom of their yard. The pieces of it dwarfing the two men who Elizabeth had sent over to build it. He looks back at his wife, whose face and crossed arms say nothing short of I told you so as she raises her eyebrows at him. 

 “Oh god,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The neighbours are going to hate us.” 

“I know she still hasn’t met her,” Emily sighs and leans forward, pressing her forehead into his shoulder, “But said she wanted to send something, and she’s trying so I said she could,” she says, leaning into his embrace as he wraps his arms around her. She groans as she rests her cheek against his shoulder and looks back out at the yard, “But I thought she’d get her a toy or a trike or something…not her first piece of real estate.” 

Aaron does laugh this time, his chuckle lost against her hair as he kisses the top of her head, his hand back and forth as he tries to ease the tension there that only her mother could create.

“Sweetheart, it’s not that bad.” 

She frowns at him as she pulls back, “Not that bad? Honey, you could probably see that thing from space.” 

He tucks some of her hair behind her ear and leans in to kiss her, smiling as she immediately sinks into it, “We’ll get used to it.”

She hums and curls her arms around his shoulders, her hands linking at the back of his neck, “You know the worst part of it?” 

He stamps another kiss against her lips, “What?” 

“We won’t even be able to get rid of it because Lily will fucking love it.” 

___

Emily sighs contentedly as she stands in her backyard. She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, taking a moment to take it all in, to enjoy the beautiful simplicity of her daughter’s first birthday party. 

“Now there's something I never thought I’d see.” 

She opens her eyes when JJ speaks, appearing at her side with Penelope as they all look over the large playhouse. The doors were open just enough that Aaron and Lily were visible inside, the little girl’s laughter drowning out the rest of the party as she focused entirely on her father. 

“Where did that playhouse even come from?” Penelope asks, taking a picture of the sight in front of them, barely dragging her gaze away from Aaron and Lily playing, “It’s huge.”

Emily groans, “My mother got it,” she says, blowing out a breath, “And I hate it, and it’s ugly but Lily loves it, Jack too,” she adds, turning to look at her friends, “They were both so excited when we showed them this morning.” 

Penelope hums and looks around, her gaze shifting from the kids from Lily’s daycare, to the team, to Haley, and then back, “Where is your mother, anyway?” 

Emily smiles tightly and clears her throat, looking back at Lily and Aaron, her smile becoming real when she sees Jack has joined them in the playhouse. She still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of Elizabeth meeting Lily, and she knew her mother’s patience with it was wearing thin. She was doing better, Emily knew that, and she was sticking to her programme, but it was still hard. Years of pain and abandonment and never feeling like she was enough were hard to get past, and she wanted to protect her daughter from it until she could be sure Elizabeth would never let her down too. 

“She couldn’t make it,” she says simply, not wanting to share something she was only happy to share with Aaron.

“It’s nice you invited Haley,” JJ says, clearly sensing Emily didn’t want to talk about her mother anymore, and she smiles at her gratefully. 

“Jack asked if she could come and it only felt right that she did,” Emily says, smiling as she watches Haley and Dave talk animatedly on the other side of the backyard, “It’s…complicated sometimes, but our kids are siblings and always will be.” 

“Speaking of siblings…” Penelope says, waggling her eyebrows as Emily looks up at her, “When are you and bossman going to make another adorable baby?” 

Emily chokes on a laugh, the sound catching in her chest as she shakes her head. It was something she’d been thinking about a lot in the lead-up to Lily’s birthday, the 12 months that she’d need to wait between pregnancies that she’d been quoted by her doctor looming ever closer. She wanted another baby more than anything, wanted to give Jack and Lily a sibling, but she was highly aware that, if things had been different, if she hadn’t miscarried and the pregnancy had been safe for her to carry, she would have only been weeks away from giving birth again. It hurt to think about it, the grief never far away, but she didn’t want that to stop her from moving forward. She’d let fear stop her from having what she’d wanted too many times in the past. She looks up, torn from her thoughts, as she hears Aaron and Lily laugh together, and she smiles, warmth spreading in her chest. 

She wanted her family to grow, to give her children what she’d never had growing up. 

“We want more,” she says, putting her hand up to stop Penelope’s delighted gasp before it even escapes, “But that is all the detail you’re getting until I tell you I’m pregnant.” 

Penelope pouts but then she nods reluctantly, “Fine. If I get another adorable BAU baby to spoil I’m sure I can respect your privacy.”

Emily laughs at her friend’s sigh, the way she says it as if it’s a heavy burden, but any further conversation is cut off as Aaron calls out for her, suddenly a lot closer than he had been before, “Em, someone wants her Mommy.”

She smiles as she turns to look at him, already reaching out for a grumpy-looking Lily, “It is almost nap time,” she says, kissing the little girl's head as she takes her into her arms, “Even the birthday girl needs to rest.” 

“Mama,” Lily grumbles, sounding sorry for herself as she buries her face in Emily’s chest, drawing sympathetic sounds from all the adults around her.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Emily says, kissing the side of her head again as she runs her hand up and down her back. She looks up at Aaron and smiles, “I’ll go put her down for a little while.” 

She hums softly to Lily as she climbs the stairs, trying to soothe her to sleep with her lips against her forehead. She attempts to lower her into the crib but Lily grunts and holds onto Emily’s shirt, her tiny fists tight in the material of it. Emily chuckles and rests her cheek on top of her daughter’s head as she walks over to the armchair in the corner of the room and settles into it. 

“Okay, baby,” she says, rocking them back and forth as Lily settles against her chest, “I’ll stay here with you.” 

“Mama,” Lily cries, pressing her face into Emily’s neck, fighting sleep just like she always had.

“I know, Lils,” she hums sympathetically, “You’ll feel better if you sleep,” she kisses the top of her head, “Why doesn’t Mama sing for you, huh?” 

Lily babbles, her grip on Emily’s shirt tightening, her small, but sharp nails, digging into her skin. Emily takes that as a response, and runs her hand up and down her back, pressing her lips against her forehead as she starts to sing a song she’d sung to her little girl since before she was born.

“Au creux de ton oreiller. Un beau rêve passera, Et tu l'attraperas. Un beau rêve passera, Et tu le retiendras.”

She sighs happily as she feels Lily get heavier against her chest and she closes her eyes, trying to figure out where the last year of her life had gone, how she’d gone from having a newborn to a one-year-old in what felt like no time at all. 

She rests her cheek on top of Lily’s head and breathes her in, “Mommy loves you, sweet girl.” 

___

“I don’t think either of them have ever gone to sleep so quickly,” Aaron says as he joins Emily on the couch, his hand warm and heavy on her thigh. She smiles and rests her cheek on his shoulder, wrapping both her arms around his as she snuggles into his side. 

“It’s been a long day,” she says, humming when he kisses her forehead, “They might actually both sleep until morning.” 

He laughs, “We can only hope,” he says, placing his hand over one of hers, tilting his head to look at her when she doesn’t reply, “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah,” she replies, blowing out a slow breath as she looks up at him, “I’m okay. I just…” she chuckles humourlessly, the sound wet as it catches in her chest, “I can’t believe she’s one,” she sniffs, tears she doesn’t understand burning at the back of her eyes, “I don’t know where the last year has gone.” 

He unhooks his arm from between hers and wraps it around her, pulling her closer so she’s practically in his lap as he kisses the top of her head, “I know,” he assures her, “But she’s still our little girl. It’s a long time before she’ll be going off to college, or getting a job. Or dating.” 

She laughs, wiping tears from her cheeks as she pulls back to look at him, “Interesting order that you put those things in.” 

He shrugs, faking his stern expression as he tries to cheer her up, “My little Lily-Pad isn’t dating until she’s at least 30.” 

She laughs again, the sound more genuine this time and she shakes her head at him, pressing her palm against his cheek as she leans in to kiss him, “I can’t believe you’re going to force me to be the cool parent.” 

He winks at her and stamps a kiss against her lips and then her nose, “I think we’re going to be equally as protective.” 

She smiles and nods, knowing it is true. That whilst she’d do whatever it took to make sure her children were happy, she’d also protect them with everything she had. She breathes in deeply, trying to force out some of the melancholy that had settled into her lungs, desperate to feel nothing but joy on her daughter’s birthday. 

“You know…” she says, shifting in his lap, making sure her knees were next to his hips, “It’s been 12 months,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, her lips ghosting against his cheek and then his jaw, “And we’re not getting any younger,” she pulls back, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “We should get working on another baby sometime soon.” 

He squeezes her hips, the brief flash of concern in his chest, the memory of the danger she’d been in this time last year fleeting, chased away by love and desire that burns throughout his body. He wanted this, he wanted to build their family, but he never wanted to risk her. They’d discussed it endlessly over the last few months, and he knew they would continue to do so until and after she was pregnant again. 

For now, he shakes those thoughts away, wanting nothing more than to just focus on his wife and the love they had for each other, 

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice rough as he pulls her impossibly closer so they are chest to chest, “You have an IUD.” 

She rolls her eyes at him as she plays with the collar of his polo shirt, “I’ll make an appointment to get it removed,” she says, leaning in closer, her lips just out of each of his, “Until then we can…practice.” 

He smiles, swallowing her gasp as he tugs her in to kiss her fiercely, only breaking away just far enough to respond.

“Practice is good.” 

-x-

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TheStudy! Series Part Three: Deserving - Dean Archer x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl @mimi-8793

The Study:

Part One: Courting Disaster - Dean realises Jack is courting you.

Part Two: Distance - Dean tries to discuss the distance between the two of you.

At events like the drinks reception with the Board, you’re a show pony. Someone to parade around who can talk the talk and walk the walk.

You’re the Crockett Marcel of the Medical Examiners Service, Jack Dayton’s newest project.

You hate every second of it but the study it’s important, it’s making a real difference in people’s lives. You’ve seen what happens when people don’t get the closure they need, they end up on your table, just like their loved ones before them.

It’s past eleven by the time the reception begins to wind down, you’re tired emotionally, physically. You miss the evenings where you could curl up with Dean on the couch, dressed in nothing but his old Navy t-shirt as his fingers combed lightly through your hair.

You miss your husband a lot actually, the emotional intimacy, the physical aspect. It feels like you’ve barely been in his presence at all over the last few months. You know that’s down to you, this study and everything that comes with it. It steals away your time, your energy and if you let it, it’ll steal away your marriage..

“I’m starting to feel more like your roommate than your husband and I think that’s something we need to talk about.”

He isn’t wrong, he’s supported you throughout the duration of this study and you can barely spare him five minutes. You can’t imagine how much that must hurt because Dean, he’s always made time for you.

You’re staring out of the window when Jack approaches you. The other board members have filtered out of the conference room, there’s just the two of you standing in the dim lighting, surveying the twinkling skyline.

“I need to take a step back.” You say quietly. “Slow down a little, all of this it’s too much.”

“Too much for you or too much for Dean?” He asks and you can hear the distain in his voice.

“For the both of us.” You assert firmly because it’s not just your marriage on the line. It’s your mental health too, your facing burnout. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it because the workload, it’s too much. “I have someone who can help pick up the slack. Her name is Anita Lanik, I can go through her details with you tomorrow. She used to work with social services. She specialised in palliative care advocating for the elderly so she has experience and insight into the challenges we’re facing.”

There’s silence for a moment and in the reflection of the window you see Jack’s jaw clench.

“I don’t understand why you’re with him.” Jack says quietly as he tilts his head towards you. “All he does is hold you back.”

You can understand Jack’s point of view. He envisions himself as a white knight, plucking you from obscurity, elevating you. To him Dean is just a weight around you’re neck, preventing you from putting in more hours, more of your life into the program.

“You don’t know him, you don’t know us.” You chide because honestly you’re getting tired of the way he needles Dean. It’s clear that there’s resentment there, your just not sure where it stems from.

“I know you.” Jack tells you. “I know you deserve better.��

“Jack…” You say but his fingertips are already clasping your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his.

“I can give you better.” He tells you, his thumb trailing over the apple of your cheek. “Let me give you better.”

He kisses you then. It’s confident, forceful, the kiss of a man who  has never been denied a single thing. You pull away and Jack smiles, you place a palm on his chest lightly pushing him away because now you know what this resentment is about, why he despises Dean.

“I’m going home to my husband.” You tell him, picking up your clutch and heading towards the door. “I’ll send you Anita’s details in the morning.”

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