#honestly i never expected to get an ask about this but time makes it inevitable i suppose :')

[parfaitblogs]

can I ask a blurb of post prison spencer and sunshine reader? She works in the BAU as the media liaison and when she rescues him in the episode 300 he looks at her and is like angel? Am I in Heaven?

spencer reid x sunshine!reader. fluff/hurt/comfort. also angst if you squint. i should’ve just slapped smut in here to make it a quinfecta! 0.5k words. gn!liaison!reader. set during '300'.

a/n: thank you for sending me back into orbit by getting me to rewatch those two episodes. i need spencer reid biblically. unfortunately that's not what this blurb is about. but i was audibly barking every time i pictured him. i am terribly sorry for keeping you on edge about when this was going to be posted </3 i wasn’t sure how happy i was with it for the longest time. thank u for the request ♡

spencer reid who accepted his fate the second he was taken hostage. because honestly, the likelihood of his team finding and rescuing him in time was slim to none, and he had lost wars to hope too many times before.

spencer reid who tried to stall his death with a speech, trying to dull the uncomfortable ache in his chest thinking nobody was coming to save him. maybe he could lie his way into believing his team had found him, and he would picture their faces before he inevitably died.

spencer reid who definitely did not expect the awfully loud gunshot — one, then two — ringing throughout the air, followed by panic and yelling. who wished he could've been relieved to see each face of his team slowly appearing in his view, followed by more gunshots, and the promise that he was safe.

he had already accepted death. 

but, spencer reid who's entire facade changed the second you came into view. no gun in hand, because you never were expected to need one, which was even more horrifying to him than the fact that he had been milliseconds away from his own death.

spencer reid who stared at you like he was but a planet and you were the sun he was orbiting, something he knew he'd get teased for later. but right now you were here and he was watching you attempt to unbuckle each leather strap holding his limbs into place, strained laughter escaping him every time you failed because your hands were shaking so hard.

spencer reid who's face fell when you finally met his gaze to get the leather strap holding his head in place, and he could see the tears brimming your eyes and he could hear the sniffles you were intaking to keep your emotions at bay. an achingly painful contrast to the facade he was used to seeing on you.

spencer reid who asked "what's wrong?" and who's heart ached when your response was "i thought i was going to lose you". spencer reid who's heart probably shouldn't have then stuttered like that in his chest at your admission, and he definitely shouldn't have allowed the rush of hope at your words.

but, worse than that, he realised he had accepted his death without thinking, and if he died, he was leaving you and perhaps that was worse than any situation he has been in before, in all fifteen years he's at the bureau.

and you, who's vision was awful from the tears you were attempting to keep at bay, yet you stared at him for a beat, taking in every graze and bruise on his face the best you could to commit them to memory, before wrapping both arms around him and pulling him into you. spencer reid who sobbed in your arms; a scenario you had never even considered the possibility of because spencer reid did not cry anymore, and prison had fractured him in ways you cannot even begin to comprehend. but he was here, and he was crying again, and sad sight or not, he was feeling.

spencer reid who thanked you over and over again for finding him, because no, he really didn't want to die. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[salethe2]

I’ve seen a lot of takes on this scene, and honestly they’re all so interesting, so I decided to give my perspective.

Okay, starting with Armand’s costume, which Carol Cutshall absolutely nailed. Here’s what she said about Armand’s costume design:

—“One of the things about Armand is he is so ancient and so powerful that he always presents himself as very open. Whereas some of the other characters are very covered up, he’s always very open because he really doesn’t see anyone as a threat to himself. He didn’t have any predators or any reason to be on guard, or be armoured.”

Personally, I find this design choice fascinating because, despite being a predator at the top of the food chain, vampires like Armand, especially as a coven leader, would normally need to remain vigilant. Yet, he’s completely at ease, even surrounded by other vampires.

I mean, look at him here. Sure, it’s not the deep, open V-neck shirts he wears in the interview scenes, but his outfit is still loose and open. And he’s literally surrounded by a group of vampires he knows are plotting against him. He even has his back to said vampires and yet, he’s not the least bit nervous in either situation!

Even with Daniel, he’s not nervous or afraid because he doesn’t initially see him as a threat.

So, if Armand isn’t scared of his own coven—a bunch of vampires ready to kill him at the first opportunity—or Daniel, who could potentially expose all his manipulations, then why on earth does he go into full armor mode to meet a seemingly inconsequential human he’s never encountered before? He’s literally in a turtleneck, shielding his most vulnerable area for crying at loud!

A for body language—honestly, Assad Zaman deserved an Emmy for this scene. We see Armand being aloof, a little suave and condescending, employing the whole, “I’m a four-century-old vampire; you’re just a lowly human” tactic. It’s like he’s sizing her up, wanting to understand who she is while simultaneously aiming to provoke her, curious to see how she will react.

As for his questions, he frames them in the way you might expect a coven leader to interrogate a human he’s about to turn. Questions like, “How will you survive? Are you okay with killing people and being a monster?” It almost seems like he’s trying to make her reconsider her decision to turn, but it’s all a facade.

Because the question he really wants to ask is the last one, and when he finally approaches it, his entire demeanor shifts.

He sheds the suave demeanor and shifts to a more serious tone, embodying what Louis describes as his "post-apocalyptic look." He towers over Madeleine, gazing down at her in an attempt to intimidate. At this point, Madeleine's expression turns genuinely nervous, perhaps even frightened—and understandably so. Yet, she holds her ground. It's then that Armand poses the crucial question he had come specifically to ask.

“And what will you do in a few decades when she throws herself into the fire? Because she will.”

Now, why does this question seem familiar? It’s because Armand has previously made a similar statement to Louis. He had forewarned Louis that Claudia’s mind was bound to deteriorate over time. Now, Louis tearfully countered that Armand couldn’t be sure of this, yet part of him probably recognized the truth in Armand’s words, which likely contributed to his emotional plea for Armand to look after her.

Armand realized then that Louis, despite his deep love for Claudia, lacked the resolve to keep her grounded, effectively sealing her fate, which seemed all but inevitable by that point. He even assigns Claudia the role of Lulu as a way to infantilize her and further break her spirit—almost as a test to gauge Louis’ reaction. Unfortunately, Louis does nothing about it, while Madeleine clearly recognizes it for the manipulation it is.

And what does she do next? Madeleine quickly gets Claudia out of that outfit and into one more fitting for her. By doing this, she threatens Armand’s plans without even realizing it.

It’s also interesting to note that the only time Armand is ever truly angry with Claudia is when he sees her with Madeleine. This reaction underscores the threat he perceives in their bond, disrupting his control of the situation, and here is why.

When Armand posed the question to Madeleine about what she would do when Claudia throws herself into the fire, her response was:

“Or maybe she won’t. You don’t know. Maybe I’m what she needs to survive.”

And the way she meets his gaze as she says this marks a shift in their conversation. Throughout their entire conversation, Madeleine often looks away and breaks eye contact, but not in this moment. Here, she meets his gaze head-on. Even though she is clearly nervous, and likely a bit scared, she holds his gaze because she is sure of her words. This is a powerful moment where Madeleine not only asserts her belief but also turns the tables—now, it’s Armand’s turn to feel uneasy.

Of course, you don’t see it in his face, but it’s evident in his body language. The way he becomes closed off, his hand fidgeting, and his gaze fixed ahead as if deep in thought. He doesn’t even refute her.

Even with Lestat, when he warns him about Nicky, Armand doesn’t stay silent; he confidently affirms his insights, and Lestat—of all people—clearly believes him. But with Madeleine, it’s a different story. He goes silent, not uttering a word in response. He doesn’t attempt to persuade her because he recognizes that her mind is made up, her resolve unshakable. But perhaps the words that really hit home for him were “You don’t know.” This was probably the words that sealed Madeleine’s fate because the last thing you want to say to a master manipulator and control freak like Armand is that they don’t know something. Because now, all of a sudden Claudia’s death isn’t a certainty anymore and he can’t just sit back and wait for her to lose her sanity. He must take matters into his own hands now.

Anyway, one might think that Madeleine and Claudia leaving, thereby leaving Louis all to Armand, would satisfy him. After all, one of the first things he asks Claudia and Madeleine is if they’re considering returning to Paris, and you might assume Madeleine’s answer pleased him. However, her answer doesn’t satisfy him, not after what Madeleine says soon after.

Madeleine’s words confirm that Claudia indeed loves Louis, and because Madeleine loves Claudia, she persuades her to return to Paris despite her obvious and valid disdain for the city. This revelation proves to Armand, even if they leave Louis, Madeleine and Claudia will always remain a significant part of Louis’s life. For Armand, this is intolerable. To him, Claudia is a dangerous manipulator and a competitor of Louis’s attention.

So even if they all lived happy, separate lives, Armand’s nature is such that he cannot live with the doubt and fear that Claudia might draw Louis away from him. Having been abandoned too many times in his life, deeply wounded by those closest to him, and left behind for others, he cannot risk experiencing that pain again.

Thus, in that moment when he speaks to Madeleine in the apartment, he decides that both she and Claudia need to be eliminated. I believe this was the real reason Armand was there under the pretense of turning her. He needed to evaluate how much of a threat Madeleine posed to his plans, and upon realizing she was basically a live grenade, he knew he needed to act swiftly to get rid of her. Because as long as Madeleine is present, so will Claudia, and as long as Claudia exists, Louis will never truly belong to Armand.

[scoonsalicious]

10.4 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, brief mentions of sexual situations.

Word Count: 3.6k

Previously On...: Bucky ran to Lily for comfort after running out on you. Despite her best efforts, Bucky realized he done fucked up, A-aron.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Everything but this and all of you is shit right now, lol.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

After Bucky had stormed out of The WarZone that evening, you had tried to call him. Dozens of times. At first, he’d declined the calls, but soon, they went straight to voicemail, and you knew he had turned off his phone. Either that, or he’d blocked you. 

You knew he would be upset when he saw the contents of that envelope, but for him to make those accusations of you, and then to run away without even giving you an opportunity to speak or explain yourself? To say you were pissed off would be an understatement. So, you did the one thing that came to your mind as a way of dealing with the pain and frustration you were feeling: you went home and drank.

You’d been obsessively staring at her phone screen as you put back glass after glass of wine, willing Bucky to call you and apologize, to text asking for your side of the story, for anything, really, but after hours of his silence, you finally had enough and composed a single message to him:

>> When you’re done with your temper tantrum and want to talk like a grown up, you know where to find me.

Probably not the most mature thing you could have done, but you had been drinking, after all. Besides, it’s not like it had mattered; he’d never answered, anyway. You’d probably never hear from him again. That thought, amplified by the alcohol, had sent you down a dark tunnel of tears and ugly sobs. You honestly couldn’t remember ever crying this much over a man– not even when you’d found out about Connor’s affair, and you’d been married for nearly a decade; no, that had felt more like a relief, like finally having an answer to a question that had been stumping you for ages. But now, here you were, a blubbering mess over a man you hadn’t even known for a full week. 

You weren’t sure what hurt the most about it: the fact that he thought you went looking for that information, the words he’d said to you, or the way he ran out without even hearing your side of things. You didn’t even have the bandwidth to consider the betrayal of him going through your private papers.

There had just been so much potential with Bucky. So much promise. It could have been something beautiful and amazing, and now, it was over before it had even had a chance to really begin. And that just made you sad. Sad, and lonely. Maybe you’d finally get yourself a cat. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea. Perhaps it was finally time to embrace your destiny as a spinster cat lady, just like your mother had always threatened since your divorce. Why fight the inevitable?

A soft knock at your door took you out of your depression spiral. You quickly glanced at your clock– 10:45 pm. Far too late for a social call. Most likely, your nextdoor neighbor, Jeremy, had locked himself out of his apartment and wanted to hang out at yours until maintenance came by with the master key, again. 

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you made a move to stand, but the alcohol sent a wave of dizziness through your system and you almost fell stumbling back down to the couch. This time, you moved more slowly, holding on to furniture for support as you shuffled toward the front door. When you made it about half way, you heard a voice from the hallway that definitely did not belong to Jeremy. You froze.

“Sugar? Are you there? Will you open up, please?” 

Shit. What the fuck was Bucky doing here? You couldn’t possibly talk to him right now– your face was an absolute mess from crying and you were still so drunk. And what if he was still angry? 

You considered your next course of action. Opening the door was a no go– any conversation could only end in disaster. For the same reason, you couldn’t try to talk to him through the door. Knowing the effect he had on you, it would probably only be a few minutes before you were letting him in, begging him to fuck you. No, the best thing to do would be to retreat to your bedroom and hide until he went away. Maybe he would just assume you weren’t home.

Yes, that was the way to do it. To your wine-soaked brain, this seemed entirely logical.  You turned to head back into your bedroom, but you missed-stepped and banged your shin into one of your end tables.

“Fuck,” you hissed in pain, trying to keep your voice down as you rubbed what would no doubt become a spectacular bruise.

“Doll?” Bucky called from the hallway. “I know you’re in there. I just heard you. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you.”

Damn it. 

Without another thought, you hightailed it back into your bedroom, throwing yourself under the covers. Just hearing the sound of his voice through the door brought back the memory of his tirade from earlier in the day, and the words he’d spoken to you:

“You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

The rage in his voice had been palpable, and if you were being honest, it had scared you. Not the rage, itself. You knew he was capable of it. No, what had frightened you was how quickly he had turned that rage on to you.

The thought brought a fresh wave of tears, and before you knew it, you were crying yourself into a fitful, restless slumber.

*

There was an incessant pounding coming from the living room that echoed the pounding in your skull. Moaning, you rolled over and picked up your phone to glance at the time. 1:47am. The pounding persisted, and it took your now hungover brain a moment to realize someone was knocking on your front door. 

With a groan, you shoved your head under your pillow, hoping whoever was there would go the fuck away and leave you to die in peace. 

“Ms. (Y/L/N), it’s the NYPD; please open your door.” Well. That got your attention. Sitting bolt upright, you jumped out of bed and nearly tripped trying to get to the door in a hurry. 

You checked the peep hole, making sure it actually was one of New York’s finest, and opened the door. 

“Can I help you, officer?” you asked, leaning against the door frame.

The officer gave you the once over and smirked, and it was then you remembered you’d chosen a pair of boyshort panties and an off-the shoulder cropped Army t-shirt for your pajamas that night. With a scowl, you crossed your arms over  your chest. 

“Are you “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” the officer asked, obviously amused by your discomfort. 

“I am,” you nodded. “What is this about?”

“Do you know this man?” the officer stepped aside, revealing Bucky, who was standing sheepishly off to the side of the door where you hadn’t been able to see him at first.

“Hey, doll,” he said with a shameful half smile and small wave.

“One of your neighbors found him sleeping against your door and called us. He claims he’s your boyfriend and he was just waiting for you to let him in. Since he’s an Avenger, I figured I’d give him a chance to prove his story before I booked him for trespassing.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were far too hungover to be dealing with this right now. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified, and you didn’t miss Bucky’s face falling at your words. “But we are dating.” You stood back from the doorframe, making some space. “Come inside,” you told him with an exasperated sigh.

Bucky gave the officer an “I told you so” smirk and shoulder checked him before going inside your condo. You rolled your eyes at the childish display of machismo. You thanked the officer and moved to close the door, but he put a hand out, preventing you from closing it.

“Are you going to be safe if I leave you alone with him?” he asked you in a low voice, all trace of his earlier smirk gone. “Do you have any reason to fear for your life?”

You couldn’t help it– you snorted in laughter. “God, no,” you said. Yes, Bucky’s anger had frightened you, but you couldn’t believe he would ever go so far as to actually hurt you. He just wasn’t that kind of man, right? “I promise you, officer, I’m perfectly safe with Mr. Barnes. I mean, he’s an Avenger.”

The officer nodded. “Just making sure, miss. My partner and I will stay in the area; if there’s any trouble, call 911 and we’ll be nearby.” You thanked him for his concern, but assured him it wouldn’t be needed. He tipped his cap to you and headed for the elevator. 

You closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. You needed to get some liquid in you. Immediately. 

Without sparing a glance at Bucky, who was standing by your coffee table, studiously avoiding looking at you,  you made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you said eventually, keeping your back to him as you ran the glass under your refrigerator’s water dispenser.

“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what to say to him to get him to let me stay,” he said, and his voice was closer now; you could tell he’d followed you to the kitchen.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” you asked. You took a couple of sips from your glass before finally turning to face him. He looked… rough. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were red-rimmed, as though he, too, had spent some of the last several hours crying. 

Bucky swallowed thickly. “I came to apologize if you’ll let me,” he said, looking intently at your face. “Shit, sugar– have you been crying? Did I– fuck– I made you cry, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, doll.”

You let out a short bark of a laugh. Part of you wanted to throw your arms around him, bury your face into his shoulder, and never let him go, but what he had said to you earlier in the day was… well, it was horrendous and uncalled for, and you couldn’t, out of respect for yourself, just let it slide without some kind of explanation, and some real groveling.

“Explain yourself,” you said shortly, crossing your arms over your chest once again, as though putting a physical barrier between the two of you. 

Bucky swallowed and moved back toward your living room and began to pace. You followed, keeping a decent amount of distance between the two of you.

“I freaked out when I saw what was in that envelope,” he said. “As you no doubt know by now, I did a lot of shit, back when Hydra had me, that I’m not proud of. I’m… well, I guess you could say ‘sensitive about it’ would be an understatement. I carry a lot of guilt for what they made me do, and a lot of shame. Ever since I…” he paused, mulling over his word choice, “came back to myself, for good, I’ve been trying to make amends for all the harm I caused. To make things right. I know I can never erase all the pain I inflicted, bring back the people I killed, but I try to… to make things better. Where I can.”

He slumped down into one of your armchairs, a look of defeat crossing his handsome features. “It’s never going to be enough,” he sighed. “I know that. There are always going to be people who look at me, and only see the Soldier. No matter what I do, how much I atone, or how many lives I save, they’ll never see Bucky Barnes.”

“I told you from the beginning, Bucky,” you said, leaning against the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen, “it was obvious to me that you were blameless. A victim. And so, for you to accuse me of getting off on—”

“I know, sugar,” Bucky interrupted. He was looking up at you with sorrowful eyes. “I never should have accused you of that; I was an ass. I was…” he averted his eyes, embarrassed to admit this next part to you. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid.” You rolled the word around on your tongue. “Bucky, you’re a super soldier. A fucking Avenger. What the hell do you have to be afraid of?”

“I was afraid that if you saw the real me, what I had done, you’d run screaming in the other direction,” he admitted without looking back at you. “Or, that the only reason a dame like you could be interested in a guy like me was because you were attracted to the darkness. To the monster. That it wasn’t actually me you were into, but the Soldier.” He finally looked up at you in time to see the puzzled look you gave him.

“It happened before,” he said, voice low and shamed. “There was this girl– her name was Jessica– and I thought I was in love with her, you know? Thought maybe I’d finally found my person. Was gonna ask her to move in with me but, turns out she just had a thing for the Soldier. She got off on the violence of it.” He looked down at his vibranium hand, flexing and unflexing his fist. “The old one did so much damage. They had me use it to hurt so many innocent people, and then I found out she searched for Winter Soldier choke porn on my computer. This thing that had caused so much pain, brought me nightmares, that woke me up screaming at night, and it was her fucking kink.” 

He looked back up at you, eyes desperate and pleading. “I couldn’t stand to go through something like that again. Not with you, Major. Especially not with you. So, I panicked, and I was an ass, and I hurt you before you could explain, because I didn’t want to give you a chance to hurt me.”

You sighed and moved away from the wall. He was weakening your resolve to be pissed at him by the second. In fact, your heart was breaking for him. 

“And now I’ve ruined things between us,” he said, “before they even really had a chance to begin.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am, and I understand if you don’t want to forgive me. I was awful. I just… I just want you to know that I’ll always look back on the time we spent together as some of the best days of my life.” He made a move to stand up, but you took a step toward him.

“Oh my god, sit down, you idiot.” You walked closer, putting both your hands on his shoulders and slowly moving down to straddle his lap, his hands slipping almost subconsciously to your waist. “I don’t know if this is going to come back to bite me in the ass or not, but I forgive you.” You draped your arms around his neck and softly kissed the corner of his mouth. “Were you dumb? Yes. Did you overreact and behave like a child? Yes.” He narrowed his eyes at you, but you just playfully wrinkled your nose at him. 

“But are your concerns understandable, after everything you’ve been through? Also, yes.” You began to toy with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Next time you find yourself feeling like that, or questioning my motives, please promise me that you’ll talk to me instead of yelling at me and icing me out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding profusely, “I can do that. I promise.”

“Good. Now, I feel this goes without saying, but I want to make sure we’re both on the same page, here,” you said to him. “ I did not seek out those documents. Someone sent them to me, anonymously. I didn’t tell you about them when I got them because I didn’t want to offend you or remind you of a past I know you don’t enjoy reminiscing about. I meant it when I said that I only want you to tell me if and when you’re ready, so I hadn’t done more than peruse the documents to get an idea of what they were and see if there were any hints as to where they came from. The only clue I have to the sender’s identity is a note where they wrote “Do you know who you’re fucking?” in black marker, but the letters are all blocky, so it’s not even like I can compare handwriting samples or something.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh, shit. Sugar, I’m so sorry. If someone is targeting you because of me…”

You blew out a raspberry and waved your hand dismissively. “I’m a big girl,” you told him. “I can take care of myself. I have a ton of guns and awards for marksmanship, so don’t worry about me.”

A corner of Bucky’s mouth tugged up. “That’s actually really hot,” he admitted. “Remind me to take you on a date to the shooting range sometime.”

You tried to bite back your grin, but failed miserably. “Cheeky of you to assume there’ll be more dates,” you teased him.

Bucky tightened his grip around your waist. “Are you saying there won’t be?” He looked genuinely concerned, and you didn’t want to tease him.

“That’s gonna depend on you, Bucky,” you told him. “I’m not Jessica, and I’m not going stand by and let you punish me for the ways she mistreated you. I can tell you right now: if you ever talk to me again the way you talked to me in my office, it will be the last time you ever talk to me, at all, do you understand?”

Bucky nodded. “I don’t want to lose you, Major,” he said, and you could feel the sincerity in every word; and you hoped that he would be true to his word. “I promise to never let my anger get the best of me and speak so disrespectfully to you ever again.”

You nodded, satisfied for now. “Good,” you said, standing up from his lap. “Then we can call it a night.”

Bucky rubbed his hands on his knees and stood up. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “I’ll, uh, just be heading back to the Compound, so…”

You tilted your head. “No. It’s late, Bucky. Come to bed.” You reached out a hand, and Bucky’s entire demeanor changed, his face lighting up with surprised, but cautious delight.

“Really?” he asked, as though he almost expected you to pull your hand away from him and tell him you were just joking. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I missed you,” you said simply. And it was true– it had only been a few hours, really, since your fight, but you had missed him. You had seriously considered that the two of you might be over for good, and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to be close to him. 

Bucky reached for your hand, pulling you into him in the process. You let out an ‘oof’ as you collided with his chest, but soon his arms were around you, the fingers of his flesh hand tangling in your hair. 

“I missed you, too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you, and you felt yourself melt into his hold, the rough skin of his calloused right hand dragging along the exposed skin of your hip, the cold metal of the left tracing delicate patterns up and down your side. You could forgive him practically anything when he kissed you like this.

“We should go to sleep,” you said, breathlessly pulling away from his lips, “before we get ourselves worked up into a situation.”

He followed you into your bedroom, and you did your best to not ogle him as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. The second he joined you under the covers, you scooted over to snuggle yourself against him.

“You said we can’t get each other off,” you reminded him as you burrowed your head against his hard chest and rested a hand on his ass. “You didn’t say I couldn’t cop a feel.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, and you could hear the rumble of it through his skin. “Yeah, that’s definitely a loop hole, sugar,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and rested his cheek against it. Slotting his knee between your thighs, the two of you fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. 

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you said, trying to fight off a yawn.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, running his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

As you drifted off to the sound of his heartbeat, you couldn’t help but hope he was right.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[steddiealltheway]

Part two of The Danger in Romanticizing. Part One. Ao3 Link.

The entire time Eddie is over, Steve can’t stop smiling. There’s just something about him that puts Steve at ease and simultaneously keeps him on his feet with the continuous banter. And he brings out a side of Chrissy that he’s never seen before that makes Steve like her even more. Even Robin seems in constant high spirits around him, making jokes about nerdy shit that has Steve exchanging confused looks with Chrissy.  

But Steve also finds solace in Eddie whenever they become clear third wheels to the couple. And honestly, it’s nice to have someone else to share these moments with, and he doesn’t just mean Eddie. The four of them together fill a hole in Steve’s heart that he didn’t know was empty. 

When it gets late, Eddie and Chrissy begin to excuse themselves, and Steve’s heart sinks a little. But at least he knows he’ll at least see Chrissy soon. 

He moves toward the front hallway as the girls go into Robin’s room to have a private moment before they say goodbye. 

Eddie puts his hands in his pockets and smiles at Steve. “I’ve never had someone around for this part. Then again, usually I just go to my room.” 

“I do the same, but this is nice.” 

“It is,” Eddie agrees, taking a step closer to him. 

Steve takes a stabilizing breath as Eddie pushes into his personal space hardly for the first time that night. It seems like he’s incapable of keeping his distance, but Steve doesn’t mind. 

“It was really nice meeting you. Better than I expected,” Eddie admits. 

Steve laughs. “I would hope so, considering we were prepared for the worst.” 

“And it’s a good thing I was so I could be slightly prepared for the sight of your closet,” Eddie jokes, crossing his arms and leaning forward. 

Steve lightly shoves him back while rolling his eyes, but Eddie just chuckles in response and bounces right back into his space. Steve fixes him with a look and asks, “What are you going to do when you inevitably see me in my horrible clothes?” 

“Begrudgingly admit that you look good in them.” 

The comment takes Steve off guard, but as he’s searching for a way to reply, Eddie points behind him. Steve turns and finds that he’s pointing at a picture of Robin at her high school graduation in her cap and gown beaming at the camera as Steve pulls her into his side with a proud smile wearing one of his favorite striped polos. He smiles at the memory. 

“I don’t know how you do it, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in that.” 

Steve snorts and turns back to Eddie. “I doubt I could pull off your style either.” 

Eddie looks him up and down for a moment before saying, “If I wasn’t about to leave then I would say we should trade clothes right now.” 

“Maybe another time?” 

“Definitely, as long as there’s no photo evidence.” 

Steve laughs again and claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m glad we finally met.” 

“Me too,” Eddie says with a small smile. 

Steve isn’t sure why, but he lets his hand linger on Eddie’s arm for a moment, debating if it’s too soon to hug him goodbye. 

Unfortunately, Robin and Chrissy decide that’s the best moment to leave Robin’s room, so Steve quickly drops his hand from Eddie’s shoulder and shoves it in his pocket. He ignores the look Robin gives him and moves toward the front door. 

They go through the process of saying goodbye and Steve hugs Chrissy while Robin pulls Eddie into a hug. When they pull away, Steve can see Robin and Chrissy watching him and Eddie intently, so in a moment of panic he holds out his hand in front of him, going for a handshake and an awkward, “Good to meet you.” 

Eddie just smiles and takes his hand, shaking it once before letting go. Steve tries not to let his hand linger for too long and pulls it through his hair to give it something else to do. 

He watches sadly as the pair leave, understanding why Robin always lingers in the doorway for a little while after Chrissy leaves. 

He watches as Eddie turns back and gives him a final wave that Steve quickly returns before he gets into what must be his car with Chrissy. Once they drive off, Robin slowly closes the door. 

The pair linger for a moment then Steve rushes off to the living room saying, “I need to call Dustin!” 

He starts dialing the number before Robin can say anything about the evening, and Steve tries to ignore why he’s unwilling to reflect. Luckily, Dustin’s mom answers the phone quickly. “Hello?” 

“Hi Ms. Henderson, it’s Steve.” 

Claudia coos on the other line, “Steve! It’s so good to hear your voice. How is life in the city?” 

Steve smiles and sits on the arm of the couch. “It’s great! I’m really enjoying it here. In fact, I think Dustin would too. I was wondering if he could come visit one weekend. I could even get Robin to take him on a tour of the college.” 

“That sounds wonderful! I was just-” There’s a little commotion on the line as Steve hears Dustin ask who his mom is talking to then rustling as Dustin tries to take the phone from her hands. “Dusty-!” 

“Steve!” Dustin yells into the phone. 

Steve pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing a bit. “Hey Henderson, you’re never going to believe who I just met.” Robin shoots him a smile as she goes into her room and closes the door. 

“Carl Sagan.” 

“No. Wait, who?” 

“Carl Sagan,” Dustin repeats sounding annoyed. “You know the astronomer and astrophys-” 

“Let’s circle back to this later. But think about some of your favorite books,” Steve tries again. 

Dustin pauses before saying, “Well, Tolkien is dead, so I’m not sure who you could be talking about.” 

Steve sighs and gives up. “Eddie Munson.” 

There’s a pause on the other line then a gasp. “No way! He’s never put any author description or any way to contact him! How could you have met him?” 

“Friend of a friend,” Steve answers simply. “But guess what?” 

“He’s a total asshole?” Dustin guesses excitedly. 

Steve pinches his nose and dramatically slides onto the couch. “You’re killing me, Henderson. But no, he’s not an asshole. He’s actually really great, and he agreed to meet you. Plus, apparently, Maybe We’re the Same was originally a novel instead of a children’s book.” 

“You’re telling me that there’s more to the universe that I will directly be able to ask the author about?” 

“Yes.” 

Dustin laughs on the other line and yells, “Mike is going to be so jealous! Do you think I could bring some of Will’s drawings that were inspired by the book? He’s always wanted to get feedback from Eddie.” 

Steve shrugs. “I mean yeah sure. But I’m not sure what he’ll really be able to say.” 

“Dude, Eddie illustrated the book, of course he’s going to have a lot to say. I wonder if he could use some of Will’s art if he ever decides to publish the original novel! Oh! You should bring him to Hawkins whenever you visit so he can meet the whole party! Only after I visit though! I want to be able to have bragging rights.” 

Steve smiles as he listens to Dustin rant, but he gets stuck on the fact that Eddie illustrated the book and finds himself wondering what else he draws and if his original novel included more drawings that he had to cut from the children’s book. If so, how could he decide what to keep and what to remove? 

Steve shakes his head as he goes down a rabbit hole of more questions for Eddie that he wants to ask. It’s like everything new he finds out about him makes him want to learn more. 

“Earth to Steve. Do you copy?” Dustin says loudly. 

Steve blinks and clears his throat. “Yeah. Sorry, I was in my own world for a second there.” 

“I was just saying how I’ll have to ask my mom if I can visit during fall break which is about three weeks from now.” 

Steve smiles and sits up. “Yeah, I’ll have to check my calendar, but I usually don’t have anything planned for the weekends. I’ll also have to check with Robin, but your mom sounded excited about you visiting when I mentioned it to her earlier.” 

“Awesome! I can’t believe this! But hey, Suzie is going to call soon, so I have to go, but call sometime so we can catch up!” 

Steve smiles sadly and nods. “I’ll call when I can get some plans solidified. It was good talking to you. Tell Suzie I say hi.” 

“I will! Bye, Steve.” 

“Bye, Dustin.” Steve puts the phone back in its holder and tries to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought of all the kids growing up. He slowly stands up and makes his way to Robin’s door, knocking before pushing it open. 

She looks up at him from her small desk and puts her pencil down. “Dustin’s visiting?” 

“If you’re okay with putting up with him for a weekend.” 

Robin leans back in her chair and sighs, “I’m probably going to regret saying this, but I kind of miss the kid. So, I don’t mind putting up with him as long as I don’t have some big exam or paper coming up and he bothers me while studying.” 

“I may have also told his mom that you wouldn’t mind showing him around the campus,” Steve confesses, deciding to bite the bullet early on so she can’t complain too much later. 

Robin’s mouth pulls into a flat line before she throws her hands up and says, “Sure. Why not? As long as Chrissy can help because she’d be better at selling the place.” 

“Sound good,” Steve affirms with a smile, stepping back to leave Robin to her homework. 

“Wait,” Robin says and crosses her arms. “What did you really think of Eddie?” 

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. He thought he was pretty clear about how he felt. “He’s great. I mean, I can see why you would think we wouldn’t get along, but that’s just surface-level stuff.” 

“He’s not too much for you?” Robin presses on. 

Steve shakes his head and says, “He’s...” he trails off when he realizes the next word that comes to mind is perfect. He clears his throat and corrects himself. “He’s really great." 

It’s like a weight is lifted off Robin’s shoulders. She’s quick to ramble, “Okay, that’s great! Now we can hang out more as a group, and there isn’t this overbearing weight of ‘what if they hate each other?’ Because at first, we both agreed that you two would either hate each other’s guts or you’d absolutely...” she trails off and freezes. 

“Absolutely what?” 

Robin shakes her head and looks down at her nails. “You’d absolutely hit it off like you just did now,” she completes the thought, but Steve can tell that’s not what she was going to say. 

“Mhm,” Steve says, trying to pull the truth out of her. 

Instead, Robin just blazes on saying, “But you know I tend to assume the worst, and Chrissy sometimes does too.” 

“It’s like you two were made to worry each other to death,” Steve teases. 

Robin flips him off and turns back to her work staring at some type of worksheet. “I’m glad you like him.” 

Steve’s heart beats a little too hard at the comment. “Me too.” He steps out of the doorway and says, “Good luck with your work.” 

“I’m gonna need it,” Robin groans. 

Steve closes the door behind him and makes his way to his room, grabbing Eddie’s book as he sits on his bed. His fingers trace over the cover of The Boy as he looks off in the distance at the dragon coming to attack the town while Dart stands at his side. Steve has no idea how Eddie can be so damn talented and embarrassed about it. He wonders if he’s the same way about whatever instrument he played in his band. 

Steve sighs and lays back, trying not to think too hard about the man as he flips through the pages of his book with new appreciation for all his drawings. When he gets to the end of the story, he closes it and places it on his nightstand, staring off at his blank walls. 

Eddie was right, he needs to decorate. But he’s not getting rid of any of his clothes. 

Steve shakes his head and wonders how someone new can have such a big impact on his life in such a short amount of time. 

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve rushes to get ready, opting to get a few more minutes of sleep before going in. In his rush, he forgets to leave Robin a note to tell Chrissy to tell Eddie he says hi. But as the day goes on, he can’t help but think that the notion of the note could’ve been a little too ridiculous. 

He forgets it entirely when he gets in the tedious process of going through paperwork, but he’s glad that he has an excuse for staying away from the floor where Collin is swaggering around. Steve sometimes wonders if all his stories are lies to cover the fact that no one finds him as attractive as he finds himself. 

When the clock hits five, Steve immediately clocks out and rushes to get back to his apartment. As soon as he’s inside, he feels a sense of relief. 

Robin peaks around the corner while he’s taking off his shoes. “Hey, how was work?” 

“Same as always.” 

“How’s Collin?” 

Steve chuckles, “Same as always. How were your classes?”

Robin groans, “My sociolinguistics professor still talks too damn fast, but the class is literally about language. And I had my work shift without Chrissy today.”

“Tragic,” Steve teases, making his way to the fridge to figure out what he’ll make for dinner that night. 

“Oh! I nearly forgot. Chrissy wanted me to tell you that Eddie asked her to tell me to tell you he says hi.” 

Steve slowly turns around and squints at Robin as he processes what the hell she just said. 

“Eddie says hi,” she quickly clarifies as it finally clicks. 

Steve smiles, thinking that maybe the note wouldn’t have been so ridiculous after all. “Well, tell Chrissy to tell Eddie that I say hi.” 

“Will do,” Robin says, saluting him before making her way back to her room. 

The rest of the night goes by fairly quickly once Steve starts making dinner, opting for an easy enchilada recipe for two. Him and Robin fill each other in on the rest of their days over dinner like always, and Steve follows the tradition of hanging around the kitchen while Robin does the dishes, going on about random stuff like trying to plan what they’ll do when Dustin gets there. 

At eight, Robin makes her way to the couch and settles in next to their phone to complete her nightly call with Chrissy. Steve politely excuses himself (rolls his eyes and tells Robin to not be so disgustingly in love when they have thin walls) and puts on some light music to give her privacy. 

Steve sits on his bed and debates going through his latest sports magazine, but instead, he stares at his walls and tries to imagine hanging stuff up. He’s not sure why it’s so hard with just his room since every other place in the apartment is decorated just fine. But maybe it’s the combination of his childhood bedroom like he told Eddie and the fact that maybe his walls reflect how he feels about himself. 

He doesn’t mean for it to be a sad thought. But outside of high school, he feels... unimportant and uninteresting. And maybe a little bit stuck. 

His mind flashes back to his conversation with Eddie asking him why he doesn’t do something else. Honestly, he doesn’t know what else he would like to do. He makes it by at his dad’s dealership, but he doesn’t really enjoy his job. Sure, interacting with people can be nice, but the paperwork just gives him a headache. Or maybe it’s just Collin. 

He sighs and lays back on his bed. Maybe one day he’ll figure it out. 

There’s a light knock on his door and Steve props himself up on his elbows as Robin opens the door. “There’s a call for you.” 

Steve frowns. Usually people don’t call him. “I didn’t hear the phone ring,” he comments as he makes his way to the living room and picks up the phone. “Hello?” 

“What are you wearing?” 

Steve laughs as Chrissy yells, “Eddie!” in the background of the call. He can practically see the face the two of them are making at each other even though he has only known Eddie for a little more than twenty-four hours.  

“I’m wearing one of my green polos with khakis,” Steve answers easily. “No belt though because I took it off once I got home.” 

Robin freezes on her way to her room and turns around with a frown on her face. 

“That sounds horrible.” 

“Well, I could wear something like a button down, slacks, and a tie like my coworker wears if that’s what you prefer,” Steve replies, laying back on the couch with a big smile, ignoring the look Robin is giving him. 

“I’d actually prefer you in noth-” Eddie starts but is quickly cut off on the other line by Chrissy which is unfortunately muffled by what Steve assumes to be a hand over the phone. When the muffled noises go away Eddie says, “Chrissy told me I’m not allowed to be my flirtatious self with you yet.” 

“Once again, they’re trying to keep us from each other. But Robin hasn’t banned me yet, so I can ask what are you wearing?” 

“Nothing,” Eddie says with what sounds like a proud smile. 

“Nothing?” Steve repeats and whistles low. “You and Chrissy are definitely too comfortable with each other.” 

Robin starts waving her hands at Steve to get his attention. He glances at her and she’s quick to mouth what the fuck? Steve laughs and says into the phone, “Hold on a second, I have to explain to Robin that we’re not actually having phone sex.” 

“Oh my gosh, Steve,” Robin says and puts her head in her hands. 

Eddie gasps loudly, “We’re not? What a shame. That would be a fun first phone call.” 

Steve smiles and quickly remembers that he actually needs to ask him something. “Not to change subjects, but I was wondering if your weekends are typically free. Dustin said he might come up in a few weeks, so I was hoping you could meet him then. If you still want to of course.” 

“I would love to. And yeah, usually my weekends are free,” Eddie pauses before saying, “Saying that out loud sounds so sad.” 

“Don’t worry, my weekends are usually free, too.” 

Eddie dramatically sighs, “What a relief. I was really afraid of not sounding cool especially since you were a former jock.” 

Steve laughs and can practically feel his day shifting from mediocre to good. 

“Well, Chrissy is about to kill me because I promised I just wanted to briefly say hi,” Eddie announces. 

“Hi,” Steve says, sounding a little too flustered for his liking. 

But then Eddie practically giggles when saying, “Hi,” which makes Steve feel better. 

Suddenly, Eddie is quickly saying, “Okay, Chrissy is taking the phone now. Bye!” 

Steve doesn’t have time to properly say goodbye before Chrissy is on the line. “Hi, Steve. Sorry if he bothered you.” 

“Not at all,” Steve insists. “Thank you for giving up some of your phone time to let us talk by the way. I’ll give you back to Robin now.” He tilts the phone away from his mouth and says to Robin, “Chrissy is back.” 

“Thank god. I think I would’ve died if I had to witness any more of that,” Robin says as she grabs the phone and says, “Hi sweetheart. We never should’ve introduced them to each other.” 

Steve just laughs and makes his way back to his room. He turns at the doorway and says, “Tell Chrissy I said goodnight.” 

Robin tilts the phone away from her mouth. “And Eddie?” 

“And Eddie,” Steve confirms with a smile. 

As he gets ready for bed, he’s hit with the thought that Eddie’s “sort of boyfriend” is probably waiting for Chrissy and Robin to get off the phone so he can call Eddie. Or maybe he called before. Steve tries not to let the thought make him too sick, but he definitely has to add it to the list of questions he wants to ask Eddie. He wonders how much the list will grow as time goes on. 

Part Three

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[justpoliteconversations]

Comfort [Mer!Warriors + Reader]

All it takes is a single moment for everything you think you know to flip on its head.

I originally had different plans for this AU continuation, but I came across a post of someone asking for a comfort fic and thought I'd try.

Masterlist

Part: 1 / 2

TW: Maybe? Hard to tell sometimes.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

It had been a long day. Between back breaking work and the weariness of too long spent fighting to maintain your composure, the weight of all your hardships seemed to have finally caught up to you. You were just so tired, but even the promise of escape sleep offered seemed impossible to achieve.

Not with this overly spoiled creature screeching (elegantly, somehow. God damned elegantly. like a fully accompanied angel's choir) for your attention. As though this was something you two routinely did (for the record, it wasn't. you didn't know what his damned problem was). And ignoring him wasn't working, as it was going on the second hour now and he had somehow only gotten louder.

You honestly just wanted to cry. You just wanted to sleep.

You just wanted a break that didn't make you feel guilty. Guilty for not wanting to live up to everyone's expectations for once. For just wanting to sit down, eat something horrendously unhealthy, and then maybe nap for a few hours before dinner. And then go right back to sleep without everyone expecting you to fix every damned problem that blew their way.

The perfect day (but it wouldn't be. not really. because you couldn't even imagine closing your eyes when there was still so much to do). And it was being thoroughly destroyed (it was never something that existed anyway) by the unceasing, unholy (ethereal) screeching of the Center's resident golden boy.

How the mer knew just when to start acting up when no one but you was around, you'd probably never know. But it was damned concerning, and annoying. Especially when he decided to be difficult. Like now (oh God. why'd it have to be now when you were at your lowest).

You'd give in eventually, you knew. It was inevitable, and both him and you knew this. You couldn't afford to leave him to his own devices for too long, especially when he had a habit of taking out his frustration on your co-workers when ignored (and not even in an obvious way either. but underhandedly. like 'accidently' splashing water on their phones and equipment during his more enthusiastic performances).

You heard his screech again, but this time you could hear the low edge that entered his cry. Like the threat of a blade gliding delicately under a silk cloth, smooth and lilting and deadly in its sharpness. A dark, foreboding promise all wrapped up in a beautiful symphony of sweet nothings.

"I'm coming! Just give me a moment!" You finally called out, wincing at the way your voice nearly wobbled. Frustration and exhaustion mixing together into a singular moment of weakness.

It was silent then, and a form of primeval dread filled your stomach at the sudden stillness in the air. Because there was no way he hadn't heard the shake of your voice, nor the emotions that caused it. There was absolutely no way he didn't realize how vulnerable you were at the moment.

Numb. Suddenly, you were numb all over. From your ears to your toes, you could feel the cold pinprick of tingling nothingness itching just below your skin. But through it all, even as your feet took you to the bottom of War's tank ladder, you felt oddly detached from your body.

Ah. You were afraid. As tired and as emotionally drained as you were, you still somehow managed to drudge up enough self-preservation to be afraid of Wars. And you weren't sure how to feel about that. You hadn't really thought about it in a long time. Just how much power he now had over you, after that fateful day you'd come to his tank and cut him a deal.

You still didn't want to think about it. You just wanted to get this over with and go to sleep. You didn't even care that you'd regret this later, when you could finally think past the numbness that had settled over your limbs.

And there he was, from one step on the ladder to the next. Quiet, still as death and submerged up to his eeriely shining, dilated eyes in the dark water of his sleeping tank. The inky blackness of the night around him fading the long, billowing ends of his fins into a smoky wisp of shimmering starlight.

You'd forgotten how beautiful he was at night, when the faint luminescence of his fins and scales ran golden fireflies across the darkened navy of his elegant blue fins. How his enchanting, predatory eyes caught even the faintest hints of starlight and built entire galaxies along the darks of them. How he smiled so prettily when he rose from the water, even if you knew it was a lie (fake. dangerous).

The smile was different this time though. There was something sharper about it, so similar yet so different from the charming upturn of plush lips he so often used to entice the unwary into his clutches.

It was enough to unnerve you, this unknown expression that had settled so distinctly upon his pretty face. Enough even to pull you from your exhausted haze and into something almost approaching alertness. Your nerves firing with renewed unease, even several meters above the water and (allegedly, though you didn't believe that for a second) out of War's reach.

And then he lifted a single, elegant hand. Raised a single, elegant finger. And beckoned you to him in a gesture so human it nearly drew a blush to your cheeks (much to your shame).

If you ever discovered who taught him that gesture, you'd skin them yourself. You swore it. But that was for later, because right then you were frozen in shock. Not even because of the connotations behind such a gesture while an attractive male such as him was behind it.

No. It was the meaning behind the gesture.

"No." You said, so pumped full of adrenaline you didn't even feel the exhaustion that'd been weighing down your bones just moments before. "I'm not that far gone, Wars. No matter what you think you heard."

His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, condescending and frustrated both. Flickering. Dilating. Contracting.

It would be almost funny, to see a mer as smug and put together as Wars showing anything other than slight annoyance (and honestly, it usually is). But right now, with the darkness closing in from all sides and the weight of everything haunting your every step, it was a reminder. A reminder that for all you had managed to keep your composure around this predator, you were still afraid.

You were afraid. And you always had been. From the moment you set eyes on him and knew (just knew, when no one else could see it) that this creature was hunting you and everyone else around him. Even bloodied and mangled and trapped as he was, he had never stopped hunting. That he watching you, just as you were watching him. Always.

He gestured again, tilting his head slightly. Another gesture that sent warning signals straight into your brain, causing your breathing to pick up and a light sheen of cold sweat to start forming on your shoulders, back and forehead. His eyes had fully dilated by now as well, adding an even more alien quality to his unnaturally beautiful features.

You swallowed, trapped between your self-preservation instincts screaming at you to turn tail and run, and the logic of your mind quietly reminding you that this predator would have killed you already had he wanted (that he could kill someone else too, if he felt the need to call your bluff). Because he would. You knew that. Accidents happened all the time. What was one more? (He'd probably fake tears too. the bastard.)

You glanced off to the side, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end under his unnatural stare. "Wars I- You know that's not how this works."

You were met with silence. You were too shaken (too compromised) to even think of meeting his gaze. The sharp, unfaltering, stunningly inhuman gaze.

The faint rippling of water. A slight swoosh. And then.

A great, echoing splash. The catwalk under you shaking and nearly tilting as a great weight was suddenly upon it. The flash of shimmering gold across a sea of dark blue. And suddenly he was in your face, so close you could see the ring of blue, blue, blue encircling the dark pools of his eyes.

You couldn't move. You couldn't scream. You couldn't even breathe. Not when he leaned further into your space (so close now you could see the glitter of scales under his eyes. like gold dust). Not when a clawed, webbed hand came up to your fear stricken face. Not when your skin touched for the first time (warm. soft. supple. nothing like your mind had always imagined it).

Not when his powerful (deadly. predator's. killer's) arms gently (so gently. almost tenderly. but that can't be it because he's him and you're you) pulled you into his chest. Not when he pulled you both down until he was laying along the catwalk with you laying flush on top of him. And not when he buried his face (his mouth. his lips. his teeth. teeth. teeth.) into your hair and just...breathed.

In. Out. In. Out. Steady. Even. Inevitable. His large, warm hands on your back, claws delicately kneading into your clothes. His chest rumbling, so faint you'd have missed it entirely had you not been tucked up under his chin (had he not been pressing you into the place in his chest the vibrations were strongest).

Slowly, your breath returned to you. You began to calm. Your mind begun to clear. And you realized, with sudden clarity, what it was that was happening. What this behavior was.

The gentle nipping at your hair. The tender kneading of his (sharp) claws into the thick ruffles of your clothes. The way he had cradled your significantly smaller body into his larger form and curled his silky (thick, powerful) tail fins around you as best he could with so little space.

The way his whole chest seemed to vibrate. The sound so low it was nearly nonexistent. An action you hadn't known Wars was even capable of, let alone willing to utilize. For a human of all things.

You swallowed, not daring to take your eyes off the gleam of his collarbone (shimmering, even in the dark). "Are you trying to comfort me?"

He pushed you harder into his chest, under his chin. His face nuzzling deeper into your hair, until his mouth was pressed softly against the shell of your ear. His hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin.

"Mine." He cooed (disjointed and raw, unnatural but hauntingly beautiful), one hand having found its way up into the fine hairs at your nape. Just holding them between gentle fingers, thumb caressing your exposed neck. "Strong. Brave." He hummed.

He nosed at the delicate lining of your ear. Nuzzling you. "Beautiful." He purred, pulling away just enough to force you to meet his eyes. His gaze so black you saw yourself reflected in them. "Always mine. Give me. Everything bad."

Looking into his liquid night, blue-mooned eyes. Feeling his hands cradling you protectively, possessively, trying to separate you from the world beyond. You finally understood. Everything.

Wars was territorial after all. Of his space. Of his food. Of his resources. Of anything, everything that was his. That he'd claimed.

Knowing that, how could you have forgotten the most important resource a mer can ever possess? When it had been staring you in the face this whole time?

Warmth began to build behind your eyes, and try as you might, you felt the gates you had held so tightly closed for so long beginning to slip from your grasp. And you just couldn't believe it. That this was really about to happen.

In front of Wars of all creatures. The one predator that had everyone fooled.

But that was the thing, wasn't it. From the very beginning, for all his smiles and sweet nothings, never had he truly tried to hide his fangs from you. Never you. Even as he kept the rest of the world at an arms length away.

He had let you in (had reeled you in). He had let you see (had forced you to see) the dark shaded colors of his heart. His truest self.

Honesty, completely and utterly, from a creature that thrives off deception. How could you have been so blinded by your fear you'd not noticed.

The first few tears finally escaped down the curve of your cheek, and when a gentle, tender, loving thumb came to wipe them away. You broke, and it all came pouring out. In the arms of the predator you still feared so much, but knew, without question, would never allow harm to befall you.

Because he is a territorial mer. And there is nothing a mer covets more than their pod. Their family. Their reason for everything else that follows after.

And Wars, the mer who never wanted to leave. Who, after all was said and done, was still a mer like any other. Had no one but you. Only you. By choice. By fate.

By design.

You'd been hunted. And you'd been caught. And now he would never let you go. And he would protect you from everything.

For as long as he lived.

---

Back to the shadows.

[lightlycareless]

I saw your posts about how Naoya doesn’t want a third in his bedroom activities with Y/N and how he reacted with Naoaki. But do you think that Naoya would ever let Toji join in as a third? I can’t quite tell if he would or if that’d be even more intimidating to him since he couldn’t think how you couldn’t be super into it with Toji. It probably wouldn’t happen either way since you mentioned in one of works that Y/N is intimidated/a little scared of Toji

Hello!!

Not going to lie, I’m really happy something like this popped up in my ask hahahahah I was waiting for it!! It was inevitable, you know???

But now, going onto a more serious note—

After thinking about it and really wanting to say that Naoya wouldn’t share you even if it was Toji we’re talking about… because like, he admires Gojo but he wouldn’t allow that with him, right?

However, the admiration he has for Toji is at a completely different level compared to anyone else, and if he began to show the simplest of interests in Y/N, there’s no doubt in my mind that Naoya would try to create interactions between the tw, so they’d get to know each other, spend time, that kind of stuff.

 But does that mean he’d allow him to fuck you?

… Toji would first have to show interest in you like that in order to even be considered.

Warnings: mentions of infidelity (I’d go with dub-con at this point) mentions of pregnancy, and Toji mocking Naoya in all crude ways possible. Also, someone likes this kind of stuff a bit. (honestly this is me just wanting to write something with toji. the actual answer is on the bottom lol) SMUUUTTTT MINORS DNI.

a sequel can be found here.

It happens soon after you’re brought to the estate.

You’re the newest addition to the Zen’in clan: a bright smiled, innocent looking girl that surprisingly (not really) fell into the claws of the heir.

Toji had become accustomed to the women that caught Naoya’s interest—the type that would make anyone think “of course he likes someone like her.”

But they never lasted beyond two sightings before he was already with someone else, and certainly, no one ever thought of them as suitable candidates for marriage.

Eventually they stopped appearing all together, and for a long time, Naoya was single as he could be… until you arrived.

Someone so… different to Naoya in every sense of the word, far outside his typical interest, or malleability. Yet you managed to not only catch his attention but persuade him into marriage—and it seemed you wanted him too.

It’s safe to say that these things made Toji deeply intrigued by you—and not only because of your outstanding merits towards his seemingly unconquerable cousin, but also because on a personal level, he found you a beauty hard to ignore, much more delightful than those before you, and soon, he finds himself somehow understanding why the wimpy heir decided to marry you.

But his amazement doesn’t stop there, reaching a new high when finally meeting you, face to face, for the first time. It wasn’t just your aura, which he considered to be highly unfitting to the surrounding environment, that affected his perception, but the way you treated him as well.

Even when intimidated by his presence— just as he expected, used to it by now—you still remained amicable towards him; to the disgrace of the Zen’in, the stain in the family lineage no one even dared look at, less mention.

Not to you though. To you, he was Naoya’s cousin, his admiration, the one he sets as inspiration when it comes to strength, partaking in small talk whenever possible before retreating, but not without expressing how you’d like to see him around more often, perhaps even drink tea together one day…

Toji is completely smitten by you at this point, and the question of how you even set your eyes on Naoya, when there were so much better options, quickly settles in his mind.

But perhaps how you managed to inundate his thoughts, to the point you are all he thinks about, is the bigger question in turn.

The topic of a threesome is nothing more than a fantasy to him at that point— highly unexpected, if not impossible, and completely avoided…

That is, until tensions between you, Naoya, and Toji, become far too much to ignore.

It would start with Toji complimenting you, like the devil whispering against your husband’s ear, he’d say…

“You have a beautiful wife, Naoya.”

And your husband is somewhat elated to see that his idol approves of you, somewhat seeking his approval one way or the other.

But after his words become more cryptic, to say the least, hesitation begins to flourish in Naoya’s mind.

“Do you ever wonder she feels lonely after you leave for work? In this wide, cold manor… it’s impossible not to—I know all about it, after all.”

“… is there something you want, Toji-kun?”

Here is where the idea finally makes its appearance in your and Naoya’s conversation—offered by you, shockingly, but not because you were interested, rather, because that’s the conclusion you arrived to after hearing Naoya’s request of, in his own words…

“I want you to spend more time with Toji-kun, so he doesn’t feel… lonely.”

“It almost sounds like you want me to fuck him.”

“I never said that.”

“But you implied it.”

He remains silent.

“Naoya… do you want me… to?”

You were nothing but highly aware of his admiration towards the man. The constant proclamations of his virtues the rest of the clan failed, or didn’t care, to observe—even going as far to defend him against them when needed.

It gave you a certain happiness to know that Naoya confided in someone that way, pushed him to overcome his limits, so naturally, you’d want to do anything for the man that brought out the best side of your husband.

But you never, not even in your most bizarre dreams, expected his fascination to go to these lengths.

However, as much as you were offended by his indiscreet suggestions, a very deep part of you was also… allured by it.

There is no reason to deny the mystery that surrounded Toji—a kind of atmosphere that even though terrifying to you, you still couldn’t keep your eyes away from him, silently trailing his every move from a safe distance while earnestly wondering what a man like him could spend his time on when away from the estate.

Does he… goes to see someone? Spend the night, or weeks, in someone’s arms whenever he didn’t come back?

Or indulge in shady business as most began to suspect? As the occurring scars appearing on his arms and chest suggested?

It’s not something you’ll get to know, you dejectedly reckon, but you suppose that getting to know him, even if just for a little bit, will make the invitation to your… nightly activities, all worthwhile.

“…so that you won’t feel lonely.” Is the excuse you go with when bringing up the matter to Toji—probably the dumbest one you could’ve given him considering how he doesn’t hesitate to erupt into laughter, amused by this silly, stupid pretext of yours.

As well as infuriated, for the one thing he hated the most right after his family, was being pitied.

“I don’t want you to treat me like I’m some kind of miserable animal.” He scoffs once his glee dies. “Don’t come here, offering things you’re not even sure about, just because you want to feel good at my expense.”

Naoya and you rightfully conclude that not only had you been incredibly immature by going through with this unusual request, which wouldn’t have survived as long as it did have it been literally anyone else, but also, dented whatever little relationship the two had with him—although your concern sustained more for Naoya; you could only imagine how this strain would make him feel…

And yet, even when the foreseeable future had apparently darkened, closing windows for any kind of reconciliation thanks to his disgust towards the whole situation… something in Toji’s demeanor told you he hadn’t given up on the idea.

Whether because he saw the growing, genuine anxiety reflecting on the young couple’s face, or because he was glad his subtle actions finally paid off…

“But who am I to reject opportunities handed to me?” He adds—it’s almost undetectable, but something akin to desire flashes across his eyes. “If that’s what the heir and his lady  want, I’m nothing but your humble servant.”

You and Naoya agree on a night for everything to unfold, one that wasn’t necessarily intruding on his upcoming missions, but also fit in Toji’s schedule.

Either way, it’s safe to say that no amount of preparation could’ve done anything to ease your nerves.

Not even the constant reminder that you agreed to it, and now, had to keep your word.

The idea of inviting someone into your intimacy had always escaped your and Naoya’s minds. The reasoning behind it was simple: you did not want to do something like that in your marriage. It was almost… sacrilegious to even think about it. And Naoya agreed, too jealous to debate otherwise.

So now, that you’re here, waiting in your bedroom, just a few minutes away from those doors sliding open and welcoming that extra person in… it’s as nerve-wracking as you expected.

Almost to the point of calling it off…

But when Toji finally appears, in nothing less than a simple robe… something deep inside your conscience quickly reminds you why you were so willing to accept suggesting this offer, even when you had listed a thousand reasons not to.

You loved your husband very much, and there is no doubt in your soul that he is the love of your life, the future father of your children, the one you will spend the rest of your life with. You cannot imagine any other man in that position, none at all.

But tonight, and only for tonight… you wished to know what it felt to be touched by someone else.

By a man so intimidating, rejected by the same society that brought him onto this world, forced to be unruly, without inhibitions, just to have a chance to survive and eventually becoming nothing but shade, a monster that no one even dared to mutter his name for fear he’d come to haunt their existence—something that your husband never experienced, never had to.

Pristine, upkept, and highly controlling. That’s who Naoya was.

While Toji was like the forbidden fruit, that once the seed of curiosity was implanted in your mind, didn’t take long for you to seek after.

If you were to get one taste, if only a small one, you’ll be satisfied.

And in turn, you’d give him a chance to soil the values you represented: the untouchable wife of the heir, the woman Naoya desperately fought to obtain, the door to the next generation of Zen’in sorcerers…

All crumbling beneath the touch of someone they considered the lowest of the low, a disgrace.

This was supposed to be an affair between the three, with the obvious notion that you were to be shared amongst the two men, as equitable as possible, although with preference for Naoya.

However, Toji’s existence had always marked an exception to all rules, and your husband soon realizes that he wasn’t to be an active participant as he wished to be, and that perhaps, this was a bad idea all along…

Toji found it endearing to see how Naoya was trying to “get you in the mood” by kissing you, as if trying to cheer you up through this amoral endeavor, and do your best to please him, darling!

But the same time, it felt almost as if he were seeing a bunch of virgins discovering what sex was for the first time, which he did not have the patience for.

Feeling rather generous, Toji takes matters into his own hands by swiftly pulling you away from Naoya and forcing you to focus on him—coarse fingertips kneading and grabbing your skin as to remind you who you were doing this for in the first place—all while capturing your lips into a heated kiss that quickly takes your breath away.

“What? Don’t want this anymore?” he breathes hotly against your ear, making you squirm and whine in turn. But while his words were directed to you, his eyes are nothing but locked onto Naoya’s uneasy ones.

Your husband isn’t naïve when it comes to the teasing nature of those around him. How he believes everyone is out to get him, try to get what he has, yet failing miserably.

He’s seen it on Naoaki, how he attempts to get to him through you, teasing you, flustering you, but overall, keeping his attention on you, because after all what said and done, Naoya is still a figure of respect and he wouldn’t dare mess with him directly.

But Toji isn’t like that. He’s nothing like all he’s ever faced before. His cousin is relentless when it comes to disrespecting authority, more so when it comes to your husband. Naoya just makes it too easy.

Maybe it’s another way for him to get back at the Zen’’in. Spit on their faces and let them know that no matter how much they try to isolate him, look away whenever he crosses their paths, act like he doesn’t even exist—

A monkey like him will always find its way around them. To rattle them.

And he wants Naoya to see that.

He wants him to burn the image of his wife being ravaged by a lowlife like him—touching her, defiling her, and…

How she likes it.

“Do you see that? Do you see how well she takes me?” Toji breathes, a smirk on his lips as his eyes remain on the lewd way your cunt squeezed his cock as if struggling to hold him yet trying so hard to keep him inside.

Toji didn’t know whether to laugh at the seemingly too good to be true notion of the innocent, naïve, well liked by everyone wife of the heir throwing her hips back into him whenever he plunged his cock deep into her pussy.

At the way you’d moan whenever he abused that one spot that made you even tighter, the squelches of your greedy pussy evidently enjoying how your walls are being stretched, in ways it hadn’t as he was able to discern from Naoya’s size, or the squeals you’d gift him whenever teasing your asshole with his fingers, slapping your ass soon after, one of the many markings he’ll leave behind of this unforgettable night…

But most importantly, at the fact that Naoya was completely aroused by a man defiling his beloved wife. Because as much as he wished to place himself above it all, like he was hating the idea of sharing you, his throbbing cock and occasional rub in efforts to calm his frustration gives him away.

“Are you getting off with this, Naoya?” Toji would refer to him yet again, pace unrelenting as he subdues you beneath him. You can’t show it, but you’re glad you’re unable to see your husband’s face—it’s much too shameful to do so, if not terrifying.

But thrilling

“With the sight of your loyal wife, oh so dedicated to the heir…”

“St—Stop it To—Toj—ah!” you gasp when he pulls you by the hair, raising your face and forcing you to see Naoya, but with all the pleasure he’s giving you, you’re simply not there. “T—To—ji…!”

“And yet, here she is. Taking a monkey like me, right in front of your dear husband, like her life depended on it!”

“N—No…!” is what you manage to gasp through the brief seconds of awareness, doing your best to not show the feelings he was pushing your body through—obviously failing. “Don’t—don’t say—!”

You weren’t oblivious to this treatment.

After all, Naoya could be rough, borderline cruel, teasing, and yet…

He was nothing compared to Toji.

It’s always been like that. Even when many denied it, Toji was just on another level, and if his merits in the world of jujutsu didn’t show that, your incessant moans proved so.

“To—ji—Toji….!”

Naoya had long begun to feel as if he were watching something he shouldn’t—as if he were intruding on a couple’s intimacy, and not as if he were your husband, the partner in question…

But with the way Toji was fucking you, manhandling you into positions he wasn’t even aware he could do, less you tolerate… it’s like he was the one invited over for a threesome, and not the other way around.

“Look at her, Naoya.” He smirks, licking his lips as he continues pounding against you in the nth position that night—the one Naoya hated the most, for it forced him to take a good look at what was happening to you.

Toji had you with your legs raised, arms keeping you still and hands locked behind your head as his cocked plunged deep and viciously deeper into you, a lewd sight that Naoya couldn’t avoid due to the nature of this position.

Naoya could take any situation, perhaps even naively hoped that he would be able to withstand more of this if he didn’t get to see how Toji fucked you…  but he knew he had lost control of the situation the moment his cousin set his eyes on you, and now, couldn’t do anything but stare at the libidinous fact of his cock claiming your entrance repeatedly as you lose yourself into the pleasure.

“Look at the way her cunt takes me.”

Your husband doesn’t respond, he can’t, not when his gaze is solely focused on your blank eyes, mouth agape, drooling, while your moans reveal the overwhelming extent of pleasure he knows he’s never given you.

“She’s squeezing me so tight, it’s like she doesn’t want to let go!” Toji laughs, and really, he’s happy you don’t—this is confidently a thrill he hasn’t experienced in a long time, if ever!

It felt almost demoralizing to do such a thing, but yet, what will a man like him know about morale? Or even care after all the horrible things he’s gone through?

“Do you even fuck her right, cousin?”

He looks forward to keeping this moment in his heart till the end of his days…

If not longer, as the revelation that suddenly crosses his mind implies, the only moment that would snap you and Naoya out of trance when acknowledging this wasn’t just senseless rambles of a man drunken in pleasure, but a threat to their relationship, if not the clan.

“I can’t wait to see the look on everyone’s faces once they figure out you’re pregnant with my kid.”

“Toji, don’t—” Naoya gasps, eyes snapping to his.

“N—No, To—Toji! is what little manage to muster before Toji locks you in on place once more, as if reminding you of your position before one of his hands snakes down to tease your sensitive bud, fingers roughly squeezing and twisting it, making you moan and tense as your orgasm pushes you closer and closer the edge—a sensation Toji can delightfully feel building up in his throbbing cock as well. “Ple—please Toji!”

Please what?

Please don’t cum inside you?

Or please cum inside you?

You don’t know at that point anymore.

But not that it matters, it’s not a decision for you to make anyways, not when he continues to plunge his cock against you, deeper as he could reach, bruising your cervix, against that spot that has you seeing stars, a few more strokes, and then—

He cums.

He cums, letting out all of his warm, thick seed into your tight walls, and filling you to the brim. Deep inside your core and with an extravagant amount you couldn’t hold, managing to escape through the rim of your entrance and drip down onto the sheets, a sight Naoya could not peel his eyes away from, reinforcing the overwhelming feeling of wrongness against all, and yet… he did nothing to stop it.

Naoya didn’t fight it, didn’t push his cousin away or even condemn him.

He just watched everything unfold, the same way you did through your hazed eyes, and took it.

“N—No…” you whimper, doing your best to raise your hands onto your face and hide from him, urge him to look away, but you couldn’t, and he didn’t, filling you with shame amidst your orgasm as Toji rubbed out the last wave of your release, unwittingly tightening against his still hard cock, making him moan in your ear. “D—don’t look, Naoya…”

“A baby.” Toji breathes, still high on his release—he doesn’t know if he really means it, or it’s just the side effect of his orgasm, but he’s too drunk to care. “A baby from a disgrace like me and a saint like you—I wonder what will come out of that?”

His cock suddenly slips out of your cunt while adjusting himself, accidentally splash some of it’s seed onto Naoya’s grasp. Your husband looks at it with utter disgust, but he can’t discern whether it’s for the fluid, the notion of you being pregnant with someone else’s child, or that he secretly enjoyed witnessing all this.

“But most importantly…” He breathes, raising his eyes to Naoya once more. “What will you tell the elders once they find out? How will you explain that your wife is carrying a bastard, simply because you wanted to see a disgrace like me fucking her?

“You—you won’t get her—one time isn’t enough.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” He mocks, Naoya frowns. “I wouldn’t bet on it—"

Toji sighs, taking a deep breath before reaching for his cock, aligning it onto your entrance, giving it a teasing rub or two that quickly has you whining in reproach, trembling at the prospect of another session like this when you’ve barely rested—but moaning when he finally enters you, throwing your head back as he goes all the way back to your cervix, stretching your walls and pushing the rest of his seed out, before nestling the tip just where you he liked and staying there.

He smiles, raising your legs yet again, before beginning to thrust.

“After all, I’m not done yet.”

Neither you nor Naoya would bring this up again.

Keeping it a secret between the two, hoping the third wouldn’t use this as blackmail, offering whatever it took to hide this affair from the clan, even if the answer was one they weren’t sure if they wanted to listen, more so when Toji simply… eased them to not worry, telling them that:

“If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

Although he knows it wouldn’t take long before one of you approaches him in the future for a similar affair, knows it’ll happen, it’s just a matter of time.

But whether it’ll be you, or Naoya… that’s something he’s thrilled to find out.

Omg. Well, that was interesting to write 😊 So long story short: if Naoya were to know this would happen, he would NOT invite Toji for a threesome hahaha. And in an ideal world, the thought of being with anyone else but your husband is enough to scare you away from it—as I told you, NaoyaxY/n is my way to go. It is what it is. So nope, no threesome with Toji. You're too intimidated by him anyways.

But does that mean I will deny myself from writing things like this? NOPE. Hahahaha I still hoped you enjoyed it!! Now I gotta write the Naoaki one….

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope the hentai plot going on was good lol.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[flowersforjude]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | It’s just a job, nothing more. Until it isn’t.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3,008

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Canon typical violence, Injuries, Mutual pining, Joel is like the reader’s personal bodyguard.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Reluctantly protective Joel sure is something. Something I need in my be-

masterlist | read on ao3

This was supposed to be an easy one. Get you from place to place, unharmed and alive; get paid; and then that was that. Easy. 

Except it was anything but. 

Joel’s first impression of you was that you were meek and quiet. He was honestly pleased, thinking this made his job a lot easier. He thought you would follow his orders and just let him take the lead. Cut and dry, right? 

How wrong he was.

He certainly wasn’t expecting your hidden fiery spirit. It only took a few days for your soft-spoken nature to disappear. He got used to your sharp tongue real quick, and while you knew when to really listen to him, he got used to your defiance as well. 

Things started to go wrong as soon as you left the Q.Z. His original plan went to hell, and you were forced to take the long way around. Infected swarmed the short path, and the thought of making this trip even longer set Joel on edge. Bad luck already setting the precedent for the whole trip made him regret taking the damn job in the first place. 

Before the trek even began, he put his walls up with you. He makes it clear he doesn’t do small talk, but that didn’t stop you from asking him a million questions. He answers some of them that he deems logical, but he shuts you down when you ask anything too personal. He doesn’t want you to know him. Doesn’t want to know you. 

But then the inevitable happens. 

You take a hammer to his walls and make the first crack. He’s unable to put his finger on the exact moment you began chipping away at his resolve. 

Maybe it was the night under the stars when he actually allowed himself to hold a conversation with you. The first real one you guys had, nothing like your endless questions and his short, clipped answers. He learned that night that you had a real good sense of humor. 

But then again, it just as well may have been the day you came upon a deer in the woods. He wanted to keep moving, but you were adamant about staying and watching the animal. Joel supposed he understood. He didn’t know how long it’d been since you’d left the Q.Z., so it’d been an eternity since you laid eyes upon anything other than a rat. The longing in your expression hit something in him. He didn’t know why. The world was the way it was. And it wasn’t changing, so why waste your time missing something you could never have again?

Though Joel ate his own words when he realized he wanted to give you what you yearned for. A scene of normalcy, something to ease the sting of your lost life. He couldn’t give you the life you had before the outbreak, but some part of him wanted to try his hardest to give you something close to it. 

That’s why, even when you both had a close call with a few Clickers, he fought his hardest to get you out of there and to the place you were headed. His only hope was to deliver you to something close to normal. 

The Clicker comes out of nowhere; it tackles Joel and slams him to the ground. He goes down with a crack and knows his back will be screaming later. The thing claws at him, ripping the shoulder of his shirt. He’s holding it back as best he can while trying to reach for his knife. Before he can grip the handle, though, a shot rings out. 

Birds fly from the trees, the sound of their wings meeting his ears over the rushing of blood. He shoves the creature off him and pulls himself to his feet. The first thing he sees is you. You stand a few yards away with your gun still held up. Your arms seem to be trembling, and Joel is momentarily stunned. He knew you carried a gun, obviously, but he didn’t know you were such a good shot. He’d never seen you use it, always letting him take care of any threat.  

He’s about to call to you, to say something like, ‘good shooting.” But before he can even open his mouth, another Clicker springs from the treeline. You go down with a shriek, but you're fighting to get free. Joel doesn’t think as he pulls out his gun and starts running. As soon as he’s close enough to guarantee a kill shot, he fires. A second shot rings out, and this time the only sound to be heard are your terrified gasps. 

He’s next to you quicker than he realizes and pulls you up. Your eyes are frantic, zooming around until they land on his face. Relief floods them, and all of a sudden your hands are gripping at him. You take his jaw and turn his head back and forth, your eyes searching him for injuries. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, your voice holds a slight panic. Your hands leave his jaw and trail down his neck, checking there for any bites too. “Did it get you? Are you hurt?” Your worry and the feeling of your hands still on him send tingles through his skin. 

“I’m fine.” He assures you, trying to keep his voice from sounding too gruff. He peels your hands from him but doesn’t let go of them. He conducts his own search of you, checking for any bites or injuries from your fall. “Are you alright?” 

“I think so.” You answer breathlessly. 

He goes to retrieve his pack, which had fallen off in his struggle with the Clicker. You're hot on his heels, putting barely any space between your bodies. When he bends down to pick up the bag, his back screams at him. He winces as he straightens up, a hand going to his lower back. 

You're worrying over him again in an instant. “What’s wrong?” You fret, putting your hand over his. He brushes you off and assures you once again that he’s fine. Your quick-witted attitude comes out in full force as you put on a stern expression. “Well, we should find a place to hunker down for the night. Something’s clearly wrong with your back.” 

He can’t argue with that. It’s easy enough to find a suitable place, barricading yourselves in an old garage of some house. It’s a cold night, though, and even the closed-off garage doesn’t provide enough warmth to keep you from shivering. Joel contemplates moving outside just so he can build a fire, but the threat of more Clickers being in the area stops him. Being cold is better than being dead. 

You're sitting on your bed roll, wrapped up in your blanket, blowing on your hands and rubbing them together. The slight tremble of your form doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Here,” he offers, motioning for you to slide over a little. He lays his own bed roll right next to yours and sits down. He brings his blanket up over him. “Come under here.” He held the edge of it up. You don’t have to be told twice as you press yourself to his side. With both blankets covering you, and your shared body heat, that should do for the night. 

You fall asleep with your back facing him, your hands tucked under your chin. Joel finds himself staying awake, rationalizing it as keeping watch. He watches you as you breathe in and out. You hum every now and then, like you're talking in your dreams. Soon those peaceful hums turn into frightened gasps. He leans over you, watching your face. You don’t wake up, though your brows are furrowed and your lashes flutter, but your eyes don’t open. 

After a moment, you roll over, facing him. Your hand shoots out, gripping the fabric of his shirt in your fist tightly. Joel doesn’t dare move as you shuffle closer to him, like you’re seeking him out in your dreams. Your face presses itself to his chest, your hand losing some of its tension but still keeping a hold on his shirt. 

That’s when he hears it. 

“Joel.” 

Everything he thought he knew came crashing down with the barely there mumble of his name from your unconscious lips. It’s just his name, it shouldn’t startle him so much. But it came from you, whispered from the deepest recesses of your sleeping mind. 

“Joel.” 

There it is again. A murmured confession that you're looking for him. Searching for him in your rest for a reason Joel can’t decipher. It’s laced with yearning, so much so that he can’t stop himself from winding his arms around you. 

“I’m here, sweetheart.” He quietly answers when you call his name once more. His voice must have reached some deep part of your mind because you finally settled down fully. Sighing a little as you burrow yourself further into his warmth. 

He doesn’t say anything the next morning. Even though you woke with your head resting in the crook of his neck and his arm still caging you to him. He doesn’t say anything about your nighttime hunt for him. He can’t even imagine how that conversation would go. He pictures your flushed cheeks as you stammer your way around an explanation, and he almost changes his mind. But he decides it’s better this way. 

This is just a job.

He doesn’t even believe himself at this point. 

For the rest of the journey, it’s clear something has shifted. Some unknown knowledge hangs between you, but neither of you brings it up. Content with just letting it simmer until it eventually bubbles over and you're forced to deal with it. 

You still glue yourself to him, never leaving more than a few inches between you both. If it had been anyone else, Joel would’ve already barked at them to back up. But it was you, and he found himself relishing in your closeness. He knew soon enough you would reach your destination and be forced to part ways. So, he was going to soak up as much of this as he could. He lets himself indulge in you and your endless sunlight. 

On the last night of the trip, you and he sit across from each other with a fire between you. It was silent as you busied yourselves with eating decades-old canned fruit. The sound of the spoons clinking against the cans drove him crazy. He tried to think of something to say, something meaningful. After all, it is your last night together. But he can’t come up with a damn thing. He’s seriously about to comment on the weather just to fill the silence when you save him. 

“What do you remember the most from before?” 

This is breaking his rule of no small talk. He already knows that if he answers this, things are going to get personal. He answers anyway. “Football games on Sunday. Summer barbecues. My brother and I swimming in our grandfather’s lake.” 

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” You're surprised, and there’s no reason you shouldn’t be. Joel hasn’t exactly been open with you about anything regarding himself. 

He nods. “Yeah, a younger one. Tommy.” 

You seem to peer closer at him over the fire. The orange glow of the flames enveloping your features. “Is he back in Boston?” 

Another question that he wouldn't have answered before. “No, we haven’t talked in a while actually. I don’t know where he is.” He can see the sympathy taking over your face, so he directs the attention away from him. Not ready to open that door with you yet. “What about you? What do you remember the most?”

This brings a smile out of you. “My family going to this cabin by the lake every Fourth of July. Me and my grandma going apple picking.” 

“I was never a big apple fan,” he remarks. 

Your smile grows, and he thinks he’d keep talking all night if you smiled like that again. “Oh, I was. Especially apple pie, my grandma and I would make one every time we went picking.” The light in your face fades a little. You take on this faraway look as you gaze into the flames. Joel gives you time to speak again because he can tell something is on your mind. “Do you think the world will ever be somewhat the same again?” 

That’s one question he absolutely knows the answer to. No. The world is the way it is now, and there’s no going back to what was before. Your only choice was to adapt. But the sorrowful expression on your face made him answer something completely different. 

“I sure hope so.” 

When you finally reach your destination the next day, you find out the person you were meeting was a no-show. You were still welcomed with open arms, though. The people even gave Joel somewhere to stay for the night. Offering him a room to rest his head and supplies for his trip back. He plans on leaving at first light, not wanting to chance seeing you in the morning. If he saw you, it would make things harder than they needed to be. He let himself enjoy your warmth for a while, but the job was done. It was time to get back on track, he told himself. 

He’s stocking his bag when there’s a knock at the door. He’s not expecting to see you standing on the other side, but he’s not surprised. He steps back to allow you to come in, closing the door once you pass him. 

“You need something, sweetheart?” He questions, kicking himself for the nickname. He hadn’t meant for it to slip out. Then again, he hadn't meant for this whole trip to go the way it did. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say quietly. 

“What?” Joel demands. 

“I don’t want you to go.” You repeat, your face is alight with that fire that surprised him so much. 

He can’t help but laugh. He falls short when your face drops. “You know that’s not possible,” he sighed. 

“Why not?” Your voice cracks. He wants to bring you to his chest and make your sadness go away. But he was the cause of your despair, so the sooner he was gone, the better. “Why can’t you stay and just be with me?” You look down at your hands, now knotted together in a nervous tangle. 

“You don’t want me, sweetheart.” He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “I’m not good for you.” 

“Don’t you think I should be able to decide what’s good for me?” You roll your eyes, your face challenging him. His fierce, spirited girl. His girl. He shoves the thought away. You weren’t his, and you never would be. 

“I’ve got too much—I’m too screwed up.” He crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t know whether or not he does it to protect himself, but it’s something he does when in a confrontation. 

You laugh outright at this. “We’ve all got baggage, Joel.” 

Hearing you voice his name again takes him back to the night you called for him in your sleep. This was harder than he expected, harder than he wanted it to be. He didn’t want to cause you pain. 

He’s about to disagree when you reach for him. Your fingers curl into the flannel he’s wearing, just like when you clutched his shirt that fateful night. He lets you bring him closer to you, letting your eyes bore into his without looking away. His hands take on a mind of their own and plant themselves on your waist. 

“Stay, Joel.” You're so close he can feel your breath hit his lips. It makes his head spin. “Please.” 

He can’t find his words; he can’t find it in himself to argue with you. He knows he’s no good for you. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, but everything screams at him to agree. To stay and keep you close to him for the rest of your lives. 

“Y/N.” He whispers as a final stance against your magnetism. 

“We don’t have to stay here. We can go wherever we want.” You offer, your nose brushing across his. Everything feels warm, and it's almost intoxicating in its intensity. 

“Went through hell just to get here.” He points outs, trying to give you a small grin. 

“I don’t care.” Your hands move up his face to hold his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. As if he wants to look anywhere else. “I’ll follow you anywhere, as long as we’re together.”

“Sweetheart-” 

His protest is lost to your mouth. You kiss him with the same fire that burns inside you. Joel lets the flames consume him, and he thinks as long as you keep kissing him, he’d happily let himself burn in you forever. His hands tighten on your waist as he returns your kiss with equal fervor. He feels himself falling deeper and deeper, like he’s spiraling down the depths of something he’s blocked off for so long. When your arms throw themselves around his shoulders to pull him closer to you, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline, he’s positive that he’d follow you to the ends of the earth. He pulls his mouth from yours to trail his lips over your neck. 

“Please don’t go,” you breathe as he presses a kiss to your pulse point. “Please, Joel.”

He nods against the column of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin behind your ear. “I’m here, sweetheart,” he sighs out. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

This was just meant to be a simple job, but it turned out to be something so much more than that. It was like an expedition to discover something you both had lost a long time ago. Peace. Companionship. Call it what you will, but he felt damn lucky to have found it again. 

First Joel imagine! I honestly didn't mean for it to be over 3k, but here we are.

[munsonsduchess]

Monster Smash

summary: you meet eddie at a house party and the night takes an unexpected turn warnings: underage drinking, recreational drug use (weed), face sitting, oral (f receiving), semi public sex (eddie and the reader are in a room at a frat house during a party) w/c: 977 a/n: surprise bitch! another halloween fic! honestly with the amount of ghostface content on tiktok these days it was kind of inevitable we'd end up here, i was originally just going to post the other halloween fic but this one wouldn't leave me alone

It was Halloween and you were having the worst time. You didn’t know anyone at this party your roommate had dragged you to, citing that you needed to get out more, the drinks were shit, the music was shit, honestly you were tempted to just sneak out the back door of this frat house and claim you’d met somebody if your roommate asked the next day. 

You sighed and took another drink from your lukewarm beer and pulled at the hem of the black dress you were wearing. Usually you didn’t feel self conscious in the things you picked for yourself but being, less petite, than some of your peers and wearing something your roommate had picked out so you could both wear matching costumes (you got to be the bad witch) in a room full of obnoxious frat bros made you feel slightly … less confident than normal. 

You were about to cut and run when a guy appeared in front of you wearing a Ghostface Costume,

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“The Exorcist, 1973. A masterpiece in horror cinema” you responded without thinking. You hadn’t actually expected anyone to talk to you, after being basically ignored all night

“That’s, yeah that’s a really good pick” the guy pulled his mask off and you found yourself looking into the face of the local weed guy, Eddie Munson. 

Everyone you knew, yourself included, bought their weed from Eddie. His stuff was guaranteed to be the best and not laced with anything it shouldn’t be,

“It’s the line from the homeless guy in the subway ‘can you help an old altar boy father’ and then later on when they’re in Regan’s bedroom and she says the same thing in the same voice. Chills. Literal chills” 

“Such a good movie. They don’t make movies like that anymore, y’know? Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Rosemary’s Baby” 

“Have you seen X? Or Pearl? They have the same kinda vibes but are totally modern movies” 

“I’ve seen X. Massive Texas Chainsaw vibes” 

“Right!” 

You ended up finding a quiet corner with Eddie where the two of you could talk about horror movies for the rest of the evening. You’d honestly never really found anyone who loved horror the way you did so it was amazing to be able to vibe with someone like this. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 👻 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The party raged on into the wee hours and by now both you and Eddie were feeling the effects of the beer and few joints you’d shared. You were feeling pleasantly buzzed and enjoying the attention of an attractive man, even if it wouldn’t go anywhere. 

“It’s so cool that you’re into horror, most people get freaked out or maybe enjoy those like conjuring movies”

“Ugh. The Warrens are the absolute worst, by all accounts they just scam people and then use their stories to write books and make more money” you gestured widely around the room, “how fucked is that?”

“Totally fucked” Eddie agreed 

“You know I almost didn’t come tonight but my roommate kinda forced me to” 

“Remind me to send your roommate a fruit basket or something as thanks then” Eddie said, “cause this is definitely a way better night than I thought it was gonna be”

“It’s so cool to meet a friend tonight” you agreed, “but aren’t you like ‘working’ the party?” 

Eddie laughed and you had to admit you loved the sound. You wondered if he would want to still be friends after the party was over,

“You’re cute. I mean sure it’s great talking like this but honestly, I saw you standing on your own and seriously couldn’t understand why cause just the sight of you in that dress had all the blood in my body run south. I mean, the fact that you’re awesome on top of being drop dead hot is a bonus”

Your brain short circuited for a moment and you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing,

“So, you wanna get a room?” 

“Absolutely I do”

Eddie smirked wickedly at you before helping you off the couch and pulling you behind him to the main staircase and along a corridor to an empty room. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 👻 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“Sit on my face, come on” Eddie grinned at you, taking one of your hands and pulling you towards the bed. 

You followed the tug and threw one leg over the bed and balanced on your knees. Before you could even try to think about how much weight to bear down you felt Eddie grab your hips and pull you down onto his face forcefully. 

There was no way you could focus on anything but the way Eddie licked into you hungrily. His hands on your hips dug into the flesh there and you threw your head back with the intense feelings, moaning loudly. 

“Oh my god Eddie”

Beneath you Eddie made a muffled noise which you assumed was positive since he didn’t stop what he was doing for even a moment. 

You wondered briefly how he could breathe but the thought left your mind as quickly as it had arrived when Eddie’s nose brushed against your clit and you saw stars. 

Eddie continued to suck and lick you through your orgasm and the aftershocks, the oversensitivity made you want to pull away but Eddie held you firm coaxing yet another orgasm from you until your legs began to shake. Only then did he allow you to pull away and catch your breath,

“Holy shit” you panted, trying to regain some of your self control,

“That’s only the warm up act baby. It’s just you and me and no one is gonna hear you when you scream my name as loud as you want to” 

This was definitely a way better night than you’d thought it would be when your roommate forced you out tonight. 

After all what was Halloween without a few screams?

[nctnanajaemin]

my brother's bestfriend pairing: lee jeno x na!sister reader chapter seven  word count:1.2k warnings: pregnancy

it's been a couple of days since the talk with jaemin. you got a job at the local coffee shop and transferred to a college closer to home.

you have today off and planned on spending it relaxing and doing nothing, but jaemin seems to have other plans.

he takes one look at you curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you and a book in your lap and shakes his head. "you have the whole day off and you're just going to spend it on the couch?"

you shrug, not even looking up from your book. "yeah."

he walks over and flops down on the couch, snatching the book out of your hands and putting it on the coffee table so it's out of reach. "is jeno coming over today?"

you nod. "after he gets off work."

jaemin hums in response, leaning his head back against the couch and staring at the ceiling. "i need to talk to him."

you're surprised that he's actually talking about speaking to jeno. "i'm glad that you finally want to talk to him, but please be nice about it."

"i will. don't worry."

-

the hours pass slowly. you spend the afternoon half dreading and half anticipating the inevitable conversation between jaemin and jeno.

you hear the door open and walk out of the kitchen as jeno shuts the door.

"hey."

"hey, how was work?" you ask as he pulls you into a hug.

"surprisingly, not that bad. you seem tense, everything okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine." you reply, looking up at him.

he moves his hands from your hips to cup your face, studying your expression. "you sure? you seem like something's on your mind."

you let out a heavy sigh. "jae wants to talk to you."

"okay, it'll be fine. is he in his room?" he asks, letting go of your face.

"no, he's in the living room."

"alright, i'll go talk to him." he says, giving you a reassuring smile before making his way to the living room.

you stay in the entryway, wanting to give the two of them space to talk but also secretly hoping to hear as much as you can.

"hey, man," jeno starts. "y/n said you wanted to talk to me?"

jaemin nods, locking his phone and dropping it into his lap. "yeah, i do," he replies, and motions for jeno to sit down.

jeno sits down and jaemin takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "i've had a lot of time to think about everything that happened. the way i reacted… it wasn't right. i let my emotions get the best of me, and i'm really sorry for that."

"i understand, jaemin. i get why you were upset. it was a lot to take in all at once."

jaemin shakes his head. "but that's no excuse."

it's quiet for a couple seconds before jaemin speaks again. "i have a question and i know you two aren't together, but what are your intentions with her? like, how serious are you about her?"

jeno stiffens, not expecting the question to be brought up so soon in the conversation. "i'm serious about her. honestly, probably more than i've been about anything or anyone in my entire life, dude. i love her."

"you love her?" jaemin asks, his voice betraying a hint of disbelief. he's known jeno for years and has never once heard him say he loved a girl.

"yes. i love her."

jaemin shakes his head. "never did i think i would ever hear you say you loved a girl."

"yeah, neither did i. but she's different. she's… everything."

"you sound like a love-sick puppy, dude." jaemin teases.

jeno rolls his eyes. "shut up, it's called being in love but you wouldn't know."

"pfft, whatever." jaemin mutters, his tone still mocking. "if you love her, why haven't you asked her out yet?"

jeno's expression falters. "i just haven't found the right time yet."

"the right time? jeno, come on. you guys have been seeing each other off and on for five years now."

"i know, i know. but things have been so complicated lately. with her transferring schools, starting a job, and everything with the baby… i don't want to add more pressure."

"you think asking her to be your girlfriend would be adding more pressure? dude, she's carrying your child. she deserves some kind of stability."

jeno fidgets nervously with his fingers. "i know she does. but i can't shake the feeling that if i ask her to be my girlfriend now, it'll seem like i'm only doing it because she's pregnant."

"do you honestly think she would see it like that?"

"i don't know. we talked before we found out she was pregnant, and we both confessed our feelings for each other but like a dumbass i fucked it up."

"how'd you fuck it up?"

"i freaked out and ghosted her for a month. i never loved a girl before, and i was in shock."

jaemin snorts. "you're such an idiot. plan a little date night, ask her out and if it makes you feel better reassure her that you are asking her out because you genuinely love her and not because you got her pregnant."

"you're right. i need to stop making stupid excuses and just man up and ask her." jeno sighs, running a hand through his hair. "but what if she says no?"

"she's not going to say no, jeno. she loves you just as much as you love her, if not more. just go talk to her. and hey," he adds, a bit more serious, "whatever happens, i'm here for both of you."

jeno stands up and glances towards the entryway, expecting to see you eavesdropping but you quickly make your way into the kitchen before he can see you. "thanks man."

he walks into the kitchen a couple seconds later and you look over at him. "everything okay?"

"yeah, everything's fine," he reassures you. "do you want to go for a drive? get out of the house for a bit?"

you nod and follow him outside to his car.

the drive starts in comfortable silence, but after a few minutes you decide to break it. "where are we going?"

"just a little place i go to when i want to escape for a little bit. you'll like it," he says with a small smile.

after about twenty minutes, jeno parks in front of a lake. the two of you get out and he takes your hand, leading you to one of the benches.

"i used to come here a lot when i needed to think," jeno says, glancing over at you. "it always helped me clear my mind."

"it's beautiful," you reply, taking a seat on the bench.

"yeah, it is. i figured it would be a good place for us to talk." he sits down next to you. "i know things have been really complicated lately, with everything going on. but there's something that i need to tell you."

you nod and he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

"i love you. more than i've ever loved anyone in my life. and i know i've made mistakes, and that things aren't exactly ideal right now, but i want to be with you, officially. not because of the baby, but because you're everything to me."

"i want that too," you tell him, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to escape.

"so, will you be my girlfriend?" he asks, a small smile playing on his lips.

"yes, jeno. i will."

chapter six |  chapter eight 

---------

taglist:

@nosungluv @icesscoups @sunghoonsgfreal @camosh @vltevgrdn @minkyuncutie @neobowlingshoez @luvjoongz @llallisa653 @shqqna @dojaejunging @nanaleehyuck @zolpidream @ch3rrych3s @gusgus0517 @1800-love-me @itsblueberry @cherryxvalentine @luvlyjaemin

[qedart]

Time Warp AU - #14 Well this update just didn't want to come together. But finally it's done (all 8K+ of it 😬) and I'm actually rather happy with how it turned out. So I hope you all enjoy this offering of Pete emotional H/C with a side of parental Icemav.

Honestly, Pete had never really got the big deal about birthdays. Sure, when he was little they seemed important. They’re supposed to, when you’re young. But he wasn’t a child anymore. 

He’d learned a long time ago that simply managing to make it through the year wasn’t exactly cause for celebration. A few rounds of people forgetting, ignoring, or scoffing at him for waiting for some kind of acknowledgment of the date had made it all very clear to him - nobody gives a damn about stuff like that, and you look pathetic if anybody catches on that you might. 

So he didn’t. Doesn’t. 

For the longest time now, the only real significance that that day held for him was as a marker of his being one year closer to independence. Living with Mav and Ice, even that didn’t provide the same spiteful satisfaction that it once had. 

These days, he didn’t count down the months until he was free of the people he found himself in the midst of. Quite the opposite really. Ice, Maverick, Tom, the Daggers, the uncles… they were good people. Good, kind, safe people - and they actually seemed to like Pete being around. 

Nothing lasts forever though, of course. He knew that. He was well aware that he was one big screw up away from blemishing whatever image they all had of him, one proper misstep from sending the whole house of cards he’d built around himself from falling to the ground in one way or another. And he was well overdue for one of those mistakes. Unfortunately, it was an inevitability. The sky is blue. Water is wet. Pete Mitchell messes up nice things. 

He tried not to let it bother him too much. 

It was better to just live in the moment, and at this particular moment he had far bigger concerns than inevitabilities or the fact that he was turning 17 in a week. The chief among them - Maverick was turning 60. 

Unlike Pete’s birthday, that was something significant. That was important. That was worthy of celebration. 

Up until this whole time-warp fiasco went down, Pete would have put money on him (any version of him) not making it past 30. 60 was double that! It demanded celebration, even if Mav himself had developed a habit of referring to the subject of his age merely as ‘the situation’.

So when Ice suggested a little lunchtime get-together by the Hard Deck the coming Saturday ‘for the birthday we’ve got coming up’, he agreed that it was a fantastic idea. 

“Penny’s got a barbecue there that we could use I’m pretty sure,” Tom chipped in over his cereal. 

“Nice. I’ll be there if there’s food,” Pete grinned as he made a bowl for himself. 

Tom rolled his eyes. 

“You were going to be there anyway, numb-skull.”

“Boys, please,” Ice sighed, before Pete could return fire. “I’ve not had my coffee yet, let’s just hold off on the bickering for a little while longer.”

Pete sniffed when Tom promptly shot him an exceedingly smug smirk. 

“I’d get drinking if I were you.”

“Pete.”

“Fine,” Pete huffed, before turning back to Ice. “The beach sounds great though. Want us to bring anything?”

“Just yourselves,” Ice replied, shaking his head. “Mav and I will sort out the logistics.”

And that was that. Party at the beach to celebrate Mav’s 60th, be there at 12. Sorted. 

The rest of the week went by like normal, for the most part. He was asked if he was excited about the party a bit more often than he expected he would be, but he figured it was just people making conversation. He and Tom spent most of Thursday trying to find the old man a fitting birthday present. 

“You’ve seen the hanger! How are we supposed to top that?!”

“I think we should probably start by setting our sights a little lower.”

In the end they decided to both go in on a new camera, figuring it was the most affordable of Mav’s hobbies to tap into. 

When the day itself eventually did roll around, Pete was up and out of bed by dawn. Not due to excitement, and not due to any additional birthday gestures like he’d been contemplating (a fry up was always a good start to the day, after all), no - due to Tom. 

“We’re going for a ride and you’re going to enjoy it,” he announced the second Pete woke (with a start, thanks to the other boy dropping his riding jacket and boots on top of him). “Up and at ‘em.” 

“But what about Mav’s-?”

“We’ll see him at the party, I’ve left a note,” Tom announced, grabbing the end of Pete’s quilt and dragging it out of the room with him. “Mush.”

“I hate you!”

“Hate me on the move. There is breakfast with our name on it somewhere.” 

“Ugh!” 

The ride, annoyingly, was fantastic. The roads were mostly clear, and riding with Tom was always a blast. Tom even bought him breakfast and a couple of pastries for after (“It’s your birthday, idiot. Of course I’m shouting”). It was… well, nice. Pete didn’t care about birthdays, he really didn’t, but even still… it was just nice. Sitting at the look out, munching on the food his best friend had bought for him, he found himself feeling genuinely content with life and how it was turning out. A year ago, he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to even imagine that. It was a moment he resolved to savour. 

“You feel any different?” Tom asked, smirking as he dusted the icing sugar from his Pączki off his fingers. 

Pete scoffed at the question, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh yeah,” he replied, nodding seriously. “I feel like I’ve levelled up, you know? Way more mature now. I feel like I’ve really grown as a person.”

“And yet not an inch vertically? Life’s not fair, is it-?”

“Fuck you!”

Tom snickered, ducking out of the way of the hand Pete swung at the back of his head, before holding his own up in surrender. 

“Seriously though, happy birthday,” he said, shooting Pete a warm smile that made his stomach do that fluttering thing he’d noticed it doing more and more often lately. 

Smiling himself and ducking his head, Pete shrugged. 

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s not really a big deal.”

“Well as somebody with a vested interest in your being born, I reckon it is,” Tom retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Pete scoffed, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he folded his arms over his knees. 

“A vested interest, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Nawww, you do like me,” Pete snickered. 

“You’re letting it get to your head.” 

“Is that why you brought me out here, to confess your undying love?” 

“In. your. dreams,” Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Bringing you out here was my present to both you and Mav.” 

“How is me going to go for a ride and being bought breakfast a present for Maverick? 

“You going for a ride and being bought breakfast means both you and I are here, not at home. Which means Mav and Ice have the whole place to themselves, all morning. And there’s no chance of either of us overhearing anything and being scarred for life.” 

Pete blinked at that, before pulling a face at the thought of Mav’s birthday ride and announcing, utterly serious, “You’re the best friend a guy could ever ask for.”

“I know,” Tom drawled, before shrugging as he tucked the rubbish from his breakfast into his backpack. “And maybe I wanted to get in first with the birthday wishes.” 

“Always a competition with you, isn’t it?” Pete scoffed, ignoring the other boy’s derisive snort as he jumped back to his feet. “Race you back to the Hard Deck!” 

“Absolutely not!” Tom snapped, hurrying to his feet all the same as Pete bounded over to the bikes. “That flies entirely in the face of the contract!” 

“I laugh in the face of the contract!”

“Yes! That’s why it took so long to draft! Pete!” 

They didn’t end up racing back, much to Tom’s relief. As a result, by the time they pulled up, pretty much everybody had arrived at the beach. Bradely, Hangman, and Phoenix were still by the Bronco though, pulling the last of their stuff out the back.

“Ah, the birthday boy has arrived,” Hangman cried as they wandered over.

“Ha ha,” Pete scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning to Rooster. “Hey, can we dump our helmets and stuff in your car?”

“Sure, the back seat should be free,” he replied as he hefted the cooler from the trunk. “But really, happy birthday, Pete.”

“Ah, thanks?” Pete replied, a confused smile tugging at his lips as he stepped out of the way for Tom to stow his stuff away as well. That’s two times today. Weird. 

“What’s with the face?” Phoenix asked, laughing. “17 is a big deal.”

Pete laughed. 

“Yeah right,” he replied, stooping to grab one of the bags from their pile. “16’s supposed to be a big deal, and 18 definitely is. 17’s just there.”

“Agree to disagree. But, that raises a good question,” replied Jake, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “What sort of Sweet 16 fiasco are we competing with today?” 

Pete arched a brow at the question, but figured it made sense. Out of all the milestone birthdays, 16 was the only relevant one he and Mav had an overlap on. Though he wasn’t sure how much “I spent most of it in the ER with a broken arm’ would help with gauging the temperature for how this one was going.

Instead he just shrugged. 

“Nothing really special. I’m sure this’ll be way better.”

“That’s what we’re aiming for,” Jake replied with a grin, ruffling Pete’s hair (and then, far more amusingly, Tom’s), before leading the way over to the sand. 

Pete blinked as they drew closer. A lot of people had turned up. All of the daggers were here, pitching up chairs and umbrellas or tossing a football (actually, two footballs) around while almost all the uncles and even Viper milled about among them. Mav, Ice, Slider, and Penny were getting the barbecue started, chatting with Warlock and Cyclone (which was weird, but probably Ice’s doing). He even spotted Amelia and Theo slip out of the Hard Deck, deep in conversation with Hondo (about something nerdy and interesting no doubt) to join the group. 

“Damn, Mav sure invited a lot of people for someone who pulls faces whenever anybody utters the number 60 around him,” he laughed as he hefted the bag further up his shoulder. “Or are you all gatecrashing just to torment him?”

Jake snorted at that, rolling his eyes. 

“Nah. Though he is being a baby about it, so if we did it would be his own fault,” he replied. 

“He actually ordered us not to mention ‘the situation’ the other day,” Bradley scoffed, shaking his head.

“In fairness, Roo - you and Bagman were having a lot of fun at his expense,” said Phoenix as they all dropped their bags on the sand and set about making camp. She grinned at Pete and Tom. “There have been lots of fossil jokes. These two even smuggled a walker on base and swapped it with his lectern before debrief. He had to walk it to the side of the classroom.”

“Cruel,” Tom snickered from beside him. “Funny, but cruel.”

“You know it,” Jake cackled, dropping his bags down on the sand before stretching his arms over his head. “But nah, he’s opted out of a group celebration. Don’t know why. But I’m afraid that means you’re flying solo today, baby bro.”

Pete blinked again. 

“...I’m what?”

“You’ve got the spotlight pretty much to yourself today,” Bradley replied, shrugging like it was the simplest thing. “Apparently he’s got some day-trip planned with Ice tomorrow, so he’s sorted. That just leaves you with all of the attention. Reckon you can handle that?”

…Shit. 

Shit, shit shit - he had not prepared for this. He’d not expected this. What the hell even was this?! He’s turning 17. Who gives a shit?! Why the hell would all of these people come out here, some of them a hell of a long way, just for him?! They wouldn’t. Had they not been told it was just for him? Did Mav wriggle out of this at the last second and now he had 20+ people who’d pretty much written off half their weekend for no reason on his hands? 

“Pete, you alright?” Tom asked, shaking his shoulder, a worried expression on his face. 

Pete grimaced, before glancing around at the others and finding them all looking at him with concern. 

He pulled on a wide grin and laughed. 

“Me? Yeah, of course!” he replied cheerily, mind racing all the while. He needed a minute to himself. To come up with a plan. To fix this. 

Quickly turning back to the others, slapping his forehead as he did, he said, “You know what? I think I left my phone on my bike. Just gonna go grab that, can’t lose another one. Are you guys good here for a sec?”

“I mean, yeah,” Tom said slowly, frowning. 

“Great!” Pete cheered (perhaps a bit too overzealously, but whatever) before spinning around and, with a quick “Back in a moment!” taking off back up the beach. 

Right, step one, calm the hell down. He had to get a hold of himself and he had to do it now. 

Alright, it was a surprise. Alright, there were probably going to be some irritated people down there. So what? He could deal with irritated people. He could deal with people that actively wanted to kick his ass, irritated is nothing. Why the hell was he freaking out so much? Less than a year of being treated nicely and he’d gone completely soft, seriously?

He shook his head roughly. 

He was fine. This was fine. He’d make it work somehow. He just needed to stop acting like a baby and come up with a plan of action. 

He could direct attention back to Maverick. The old man can try and wriggle out of it all he likes but two can play this game. He’ll stick around for an hour, direct as much attention to Mav as possible, whip Jake and Bradely up into enough of a frenzy to keep the momentum going and then make a classy exit. Nobody will even remember he was here and they’ll forget all about this misunderstanding. That’s good. That’ll work. 

…Unless Mav launches a counter-attack. Which he would. 

Shit!

“Pete?” 

Pete whirled around and found Mav and Ice approaching, both looking concerned and not all that surprised to see him up here. Goddamnit, Tom, the snitch!!

“What’s going on, kiddo?” Mav asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“I mean, that’s a pretty good question man,” Pete replied, running a hand through his hair anxiously as he glanced down at the beach once more before turning his attention (and frustration) back to the older man. “I get that you’ve got some sort of three quarter life crisis going on about turning 60, but seriously, throwing me under the bus so you can avoid that is a dick move.” 

Mav, the bastard, looked more confused than chastened at the rebuke, exchanging a bemused glance with Ice. 

“You’re going to have to spell this one out for us, buddy.”

Pete groaned, folding his hands on top of his head. 

“First, explain it to me, guys,” he replied. “What was the plan? Trick everyone here by saying it’s a party for Mav and then hope people aren’t too put out when it turns out it was for the other Mitchell? Jeez guys, I mean, what the hell? Why the hell?! Nobody gives a damn it’s my birthday. I don’t give a damn it’s my birthday. Now it looks like I do, and now I get to look like the stupid little moron who needed people tricked here to pad things out!”

“Pete,” Ice said slowly, holding his hands out like he was trying to calm down some wounded animal. Like Pete was being irrational about this. “You do know this party is for you, right?”

“Yes,” Pete replied with every ounce of patience he possessed. “I’m aware of that. That’s exactly my point”

“No. He means it was always intended to be just for you,” Mav weighed in. 

Pete sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried his very best to channel Ice and remain as diplomatic as he possibly could (it did not help, mind you, that Ice was joining in on this nonsense. But he tried nevertheless). 

“Look,” he said with forced calm, “I see what you’re trying to do, and it’s a nice thought. I appreciate that you guys care and want to make a fuss, I do. But you can’t just expect to trick people into writing off half their weekend for one thing, and then bait and switch with a discount offer at the last second. Wood and Wolf flew in from Texas for this, guys. Please. I’ll see if I can get the Daggers to lay off the fossil jokes, but- …what’s this?”

“Read it,” Ice replied, holding his phone out to Pete until he took it and did as he was told. 

Jake has named the group chat: Big Effing Deal Jake: First of all, how. dare. you? Nat: Seconded! Both for leaving us out and forcing me to agree with Bagman. Jake: Look what you’ve brought us too!!!  Nat: I feel physically sick.  Jake: Ditto. Bradley: Wow, you guys really are in sync today.  Nat: You take that back!!! Ice: Could somebody please explain what we’re being accused of here.  Jake: Betrayal!!!  Coyote: Dude - you’ve been hitting the expresso machine again, haven’t you? Mav: Guys. BOB: Rooster mentioned you are having a get together for Pete’s birthday on Saturday and we’re all handling the rejection differently. Fanboy: How could you, Mav? Mav: Well first, there’s no rejection for anybody to handle. We floated the idea of a beach party this morning and he seemed alright with it. So if you guys are free and want to come along, you’re more than welcome to.  Jake: Was that so hard?!!!! Mav: If you’d waited a few more hours I’d have invited you in person at work tomorrow. Jake: But Roo gets his invite right away??? :(  Ice: Rooster was over during the day, so yes, he heard first. Rooster: Remember how you were supposed to help me fix their gate today?  Jake: Nope. Poorly communicated on your part.  Jake: Moving swiftly on - we need times. And gift ideas. Nat: What a crappy brother. I got my present for him weeks ago.  Payback: Burn.  Payback: Also, same. Jake: You’re a pair of goody-goodies, I’m not surprised in the slightest.  Jake: Besides it doesn’t matter how early you got it. It’s how good it is. Nat: Got you beat there too Bagman.  Jake: Bullshit. Pete and I have a connection.  Payback: Is that what we’re calling you being a terrible influence now? Coyote: Just before these three properly kick off - is this a joint birthday bash? Or Pete-specific? Mav: Pete specific.  Mav: I’ve already got plans for mine.  Ice: And by that he means I have already made plans for him.  Ice: They’re on Sunday though, so we’ll be there regardless.  Mav: And people think I’m the competitive one. My point is, I’m covered, so don’t go worrying about that. Coyote: Roger that!  Fanboy: This is going to be great!! I can bake a cake if you like!!! Lil bro likes chocolate, right? Payback: Guys - take him up on the offer!  Phoenix: This! ^^^^^ Ice: That would be lovely, Fanboy, thank you. And yes, chocolate would be well received I expect.  Fanboy: Yeeeeeesssss!!  Mav: Right, we’re just going to leave you guys to this.  Rooster: Oh, actually, just before you go… Bradley’s added Sly-Guy, Chip_P, E!News, Full_M00ning…  Mav: Oh you little shit stirrer.  Sli-Guy: First of all, how dare you?! 

Pete blinked, utterly mystified, as he scrolled through the group chat (which seemed to go on for quite a bit) before eventually turning back to Ice and Mav. 

“I… I don’t understand,” he uttered. 

“Join the club, kiddo,” Mav replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You helped plan this,” Ice pointed out, a baffled expression on his ordinarily nonplussed face. “I specifically asked you if you would like a party at the Hard Deck?” 

“I thought you were asking for my input for Mav’s party,” Pete muttered, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment as he realised just how stupid he apparently was. 

“The daggers have been talking to you about it all week?” Mav pointed out, equally confused. “Bob asked you what snacks you’d like him to bring.” 

“I thought they were coming to me because they couldn’t get anything out of you!” Pete snapped back hotly. 

Ice held up a hand, cutting that line of conversation off before it could get too heated. Taking a deep, exceedingly put upon breath, he sighed “Once again, it appears that this family’s outstanding communication skills have come back to bite us all in the ass.”

He turned back to Pete.  

“If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t meant to be a surprise party,” he said.

Pete scoffed softly, in spite of himself, but soon enough the begrudging amusement gave way to confusion once more. 

“I still don’t understand,” he said. “Why would all of them come out if they knew it was just for me?” 

“How’s it any different from them coming out for me?” Maverick asked with a frown.

Pete shrugged. 

“They’re your family,” he replied simply. “They’re supposed to show up for you.” 

“They’re your family too,” Maverick argued, his frown deepening. 

“You do know that, don’t you?” Ice said slowly, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Yeah. Course,” Pete muttered, cutting a quick glance to the group in question. Nobody seemed to have noticed they were gone yet, thank goodness. Somehow Pete felt like he’d find himself even more outnumbered if they did. He had to bury this quick though, if he wanted to avoid that fate. 

Unfortunately, when he turned back to the oldtimers, Ice had his signature ‘so you’re just going to lie to my face now?’ expression in place. Never a good sign. Also almost never directed at Pete he realised with a dull pain. 

“You know, you pull that face every time this topic of conversation comes up.”

“What face?” 

“The ‘well if it makes them happy’ face,” Ice replied, folding his arms over his chest. “Be honest with us, Pete. What’s going on here?”

Pete shrunk back a little at that, feeling very much under a spotlight all of a sudden and not entirely sure why. 

“N-nothing. Nothing’s going on.”

“Well clearly something is. And just to be clear, do you honestly believe that we’d have all been fine throwing a party for Maverick and doing absolutely nothing for you?” the older man asked, arching a brow pointedly. 

“I… I mean… I… I’d get it,” Pete stuttered, heart pounding in his chest. What the hell was going on? What did he even do? He took a step back, giving into the instinct to at least be out of arm's length, only to knock into the back of Ice’s Jeep when he tried. Crap. He was trapped. And he was in trouble. And he didn’t know why. 

His alarm must have shown on his face too, because soon enough Ice was taking a step back himself, hands held up disarmingly. 

“Pete, I’m not angry with you,” he said, calmly and far gentler than before. “I’m sorry.”

Pete swallowed thickly, but nodded all the same as he tried to rein himself in, to calm down for goodness sake. He was being so damn stupid!!

“I just don’t understand,” Ice continued. “You know everybody here loves you, don’t you? We haven’t dropped the ball that much I hope.” 

Embarrassment and shame twisted sickeningly in the pit of Pete’s belly. Because he did know that. He knew how hard everybody had tried to make him and Tom feel welcome. And not just as novelty extensions of Mav and Ice either, but as their own, separate people. They’d all tried so hard to bring them into the family and make them feel like they belonged in it, Pete knew it. He saw it each day. For the most time, he felt it too, but there was just this part of him that wouldn’t allow him to accept it fully. Wouldn’t allow him to trust it. To trust them. 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered weakly, staring down at the tips of his boots. “I… I know it doesn’t make sense. It’s not anything you guys have done, or haven’t done. I know how much you’ve all tried to be welcoming. And you have, truly. I love it here… so much. But… but every time I try to… it’s just in the back of my mind I’m always… I…” 

He flinched sharply when something touched his arm, but it was just Ice reaching out to him. All of a sudden, that contact, that offer of reassurance was all he wanted. Sighing heavily he stepped forward and leaned against the old man’s chest, dragging in a deep, calming breath as Ice’s arms wrapped around him, squeezed him in a tight. 

“I love it here,” he uttered. “And everybody here… and I know they- you all care - about me and Tom. But I just know…” 

He sighed deeply. 

“It’s just… self-preservation, I guess. I know it’s going to really hurt, so much, when I mess up.  I didn’t care, when it was just some other home I was stuck in longer than usual, but now… now it’s probably too late already. When I mess up and have to go-”

“Hey, who said anything about you going anywhere,” Ice said with a frown, holding him closer. “We told you, you have a place in this family for life. Nothing will change that.”

Pete sighed sadly, shaking his head where it was pressed to Ice’s sternum. They didn’t get it. They felt that way now, but it wouldn’t last. 

“No matter how hard you try, you’re going to end up alone.” 

Both Pete and Ice froze at that, before turning to face Maverick, who looked all the world like he’d just commented on the weather rather than putting one of Pete’s deepest, most painful fears to words. And he wasn’t done. 

“We’re going realise just how messed up you really are. How much damage has been done. How much of it can’t be undone. And, most importantly, how much of it you probably deserved. And sooner or later we’ll change our mind about you. It’s all well and good to say we’ll always want you in the family if we haven’t seen the full picture yet, because let’s face it, you’re on the good behaviour streak of a lifetime right now. But sooner or later, you’re going to mess up, because that’s what you do. And then we’ll see the real you. The screw up. The waste of space. The guy everybody else can see clearly. Eventually the rose-coloured glasses will come off and  we’ll really see you for what you are. We’ll get tired of trying to bring somebody into a family who doesn’t deserve to be in it and clearly is meant to be on their own. It’ll be better for everyone to just stop trying. We probably won’t kick you out, to be fair - but when you head off to college or the academy… the calls and emails will peter out. Tom will probably find his own people too, when he’s got other options. He’ll stop spending time with you too. It’ll probably be pretty amicable really. But everybody will just go on with their life and there will be no room for you in them. That will be that. Better to just accept it now, try not to get too attached to how things are, so when it happens, at least you won’t look like you were blindsided by it all. It’s a bit less pathetic if you at least saw it coming.” 

Pete’s stomach sunk so fast through the blacktop it felt like he was pulling negative G’s. Mav knew. Mav saw how this was going to play out just as clearly as he did. The first card in his little house was beginning to wobble. 

To his horror he felt his face beginning to heat up and his eyes beginning to sting. He dragged in a deep, shuddering breath, squeezing them shut tight. He wasn’t a baby. This wasn’t a surprise. He wasn’t going to start crying in the middle of the car park where everybody could see him like some child. 

He jumped as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and looked up to find Ice, holding him close again, and leading them to the space between his jeep and Bradley’s Bronco - more or less out of sight from the rest of the group.

“Sit down and take a few deep breaths for me, kiddo,” he murmured, manoeuvring Pete until he was sitting down on the gravel, back pressed against the rubber of the Bronco’s tyre. Biting his lip, he folded his arms tight over his chest, knees drawing up as Ice kneeled down beside him and wrapped an arm back around his shoulders, rubbing up and down his arm soothingly all the while.. “In and out. Just like that. What the hell, Mav?” 

“Just trying to work out what we’re dealing with here,” Maverick replied, sounding tired and sad now. “Pete, can you look at me?”

Pete really didn’t want to. This was all humiliating and painful enough without risking bursting into tears the second he made eye contact with the old man as well. But, at the same time, this was the reality of the situation, and closing his eyes and hiding from it wasn’t going to change anything either, except to make him look even more childish. So whether he wanted to or not, he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Clenching his jaw tight and breathing in deeply through his nose, he (as resolutely as he could manage) lifted his head and met Mav’s eye. He wasn’t expecting to be met with a sympathetic expression. How could Mav see him so clearly, and still look at him like that. 

“Does that about sum it up?” the old man asked, cocking his head to the side. “What’s going on in that head of yours.”

Scrubbing roughly at his face, Pete nodded his head. 

“M-more or less.” 

Mav hummed thoughtfully, pausing a moment, before smiling and sitting down properly across from them. 

“You know,” he said, leaning back on his hands. “The first time I met Carole, she scared that absolute crap out of me.” 

Pete blinked, confused at the strange turn their conversation had taken, but interested all the same. Mav wasn’t shy with talking about Goose or Carole, but he’d never heard that. 

A fond smile tugged at the edges of the old man’s mouth as he looked up wistfully at the sky. 

“People underestimated her. She was so loud and joyous all the time, most people figured she was probably a bit dim. But they had no idea. Sure she was smart enough, but her real strength was with people. She had this way of looking at a person, just looking at them, and seeing past all the bullshit.”

He shook his head. 

“The first shore leave after Goose and I became a team, Goose insisted that I come home with him. He hadn’t realised until we were literally docking that I didn’t have anywhere to go, so the second he put the pieces together it was, ‘Come on, you have to, Mav! It’ll be great. You can meet Carole. You guys will get on like a house on fire, I know it’. And I, for the life of me, couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to convince him otherwise. I think I was a bit blindsided that he was offering to spend more time together at all.” 

He scoffed. 

“Either way, the pressure was dialled up to 11,” he drawled. “Not only would I have to stay on my best behaviour for even longer, to keep Goose on side - and I’d been on a 6 month streak at that point and felt the end looming. But I also had to become best friends with his wife, immediately. Otherwise he’d wonder how he got that one so wrong. Then he’d look closer, and he’d see everything he’d somehow missed about me before. See exactly where I was lacking. Me getting to keep the one person in the navy, hell, the one person in the world that gave a damn about me - depended on this month going well.”

Rubbing at his scratchy eyes, Pete leaned a little more into Ice’s side, before asking. “You managed to pull that off?”

“Hell no, I lasted less than a week,” Mav scoffed, shaking his head. “And it only lasted that long because Goose and Carole had the patience of saints.”

Pete frowned. That didn’t make sense. He might not know this story but he knew a hell of a lot of the others that came later. He knew Mav stayed friends with Goose, and Carole as well, for years after when this would have happened. How could it not have worked? How did he screw up that badly and still manage to keep them around? 

He shot Ice a confused glance, receiving a ‘just roll with it’ shrug in response. 

“Carole was living in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere Texas at the time. Her aunt needed help moving or something. Unfortunately that meant I had had about six hours of travelling to work myself up and come up with a game plan for how I was going to make it all work. Going in with a charm offensive wouldn’t have done it, Goose would feel like making moves on his wife, Carole would feel like I was a creep, and I’d be stuck with both of them feeling like that for a month. I couldn’t risk being myself, for reasons already discussed. So I decided on the red carpet treatment. From the second I got out of Goose’s truck to the second we got back in it to head back to the airport, Carole Bradshaw would be shown a level of respect and deference that no admiral had or has ever received from me. The queen of England could have come around and found it excessive. But it was the best I had.

“I addressed her as ma’am, I stood when she walked into the room or got up from the table, I tried to help out around the house as much as I possibly could. A big part of the plan was also trying to give her and Goose as much space and time to themselves as possible. I wasn’t supposed to be there, and the absolute last thing I wanted is for them to miss out on time together because Goose felt obliged to bring me along with him. On paper, I thought it worked. Be respectful and stay out of the way. Unfortunately, in practice it went more along the lines of me actively avoiding everybody like it was my job and, whenever I couldn’t, making the situation so awkward it was uncomfortable for everybody. And it was uncomfortable. My god. Goose and Carole, they tried so hard to get me to relax, come out of my shell, do the exact opposite of what I was trying to do essentially. It was not going well,” Mav laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and shaking his head at the memory. 

“Goose knew I was acting off, which was putting me even more on edge. And I knew I was quickly moving past that ‘meeting new people is awkward sometimes’ grace period straight into ‘this little twerp I’ve known for a few months has got a problem with the love of my life’ territory. So not ideal. And Carol… Carol knew from the beginning that I was putting up a front, which made settling around her pretty much impossible.”

Pete grimaced sympathetically at the thought of it all. 

“At least you stuck it out,” he muttered. “I would have just left at that point.”

“Oh, I did,” Mav replied without missing a beat. “About five days in everything finally bubbled over. Goose tried to coax me into telling him what was wrong for about the millionth time and… well, after days of constantly being on red alert, barely sleeping from the stress, just second guessing every single move or sound I made while knowing, in spite of trying my best, it was all going to hell - I sort of lost it on him. Told him he could take whatever friendship he thought we had and shove it where the sun don’t shine because I sure as hell didn’t need it or him. That I'd been on my own for over half my life and I didn’t need anybody, thank you very much, least of all some hapless, sheltered country-boy who clearly didn’t know what was good for him if it smacked him in the face. Then I grabbed my bag and went straight to the train station.”

Pete blinked owlishly at that, confused to say the least. 

“But I thought Goose was your best friend,” he said. 

“He was,” Mav replied. 

“Even after that?!” 

“I know, I was surprised too.” 

Pete frowned, puzzling it over as Mav laughed softly and shook his head.. 

“This being the tiny town it was, the train didn’t run very often, and I’d missed the one for that day - which was just the cherry on the top really. I figured I’d just spend the night on the platform. Didn’t want to risk missing the next one, and I was feeling pretty sorry for myself at the time so it seemed fitting. Which was exactly where Carole found me three hours later.”

Ice scoffed softly beside Pete, shaking his head with a fond smile of his own. 

“Mother Goose sent in the big guns then,” he drawled. 

“I honestly have no idea if Goose even knew,” Mav replied, smiling reminiscently himself. “I think she just figured she’d given us both enough time to sulk and decided enough was enough.” 

He chuckled, tilting his head back as he recalled the encounter. 

“She came over and sat down on the ground beside me,” he said, looking around them, the corner of his lips twitching a fraction higher. “Sorta like we are right now.”

Pete smiled weakly at that. 

“She sat with me for the longest time, didn’t say a word, just waited me out, until she could tell I was ready to actually listen to her. Then she took my hand and said, “You know what, honey? If you were half as rotten as you’re afraid you are, you wouldn’t care nearly as much as you do”.”

Pete ducked his head as, all at once, tears started welling up once again. God he wanted that to be true. With every fibre of his being he did. He bit his lip as he felt Ice pull him a little tighter against his side, and heard Mav scoot closer himself, reaching out and rubbing his arm himself. 

“Do you think she was right about that,” he uttered, voice crackling with the strain of keeping himself together. 

Mav smiled, squeezing Pete’s arm gently as he inclined his head. 

“Honestly, I always had my doubts,” he confessed. “But these days… I think she probably was.” 

Before he could stop them, a couple of the tears Pete had been battling against broke free and rolled down his cheeks. 

“Oh, buddy,” Mav sighed, reaching up to rub the moisture away. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I forget how much all of that stuff hurt.” 

Pete leaned into the contact, the corner of his mouth twitching a little as he did so.

“Actually pretty good to hear that from my perspective,” he murmured, drawing soft scoffs from the oldtimers. 

Shaking his head fondly, Mav patted Pete’s arm one last time before folding them over his crossed legs. 

“I’m telling you this for two reasons,” he said, ducking his head to meet Pete’s eye once again. “First, and I really am sorry for this but, unfortunately, this is just one of those cards that you and I got dealt. This is something that you were always going to have to work through. Being on your own for so long, and getting told so many times and in so many ways that nobody wants you, and nobody will ever want you - it leaves a mark. That doesn’t mean you’re broken. It's just a hurdle that we get that some people don’t. Everyone’s got their own set. For us - it’s being very, very aware of just how much other people can hurt you, while at the same time knowing how much the alternative hurts too.”

Pete sighed softly, but nodded all the same. That point wasn’t exactly news to him, but it still sucked hearing it all the same. 

“And second,” Mav said, reaching out and brushing Pete’s hair back from his face with a small, reassuring smile. “Even though it doesn’t always feel like it, and that feeling will flare up from time to time unfortunately, some people really do stay.”

Pete lifted his head to look at the old man properly, something like hope fluttering weakly in the pit of his belly. 

“They stick by you as long as they possibly can, through more crap than you could possibly imagine. I know it’s hard to really let yourself believe that right now. I know it feels like the second you do it’ll all fall apart around you, like a house of cards. But that will fade with time and with evidence. You’re just going to have to trust me until then. You’re not meant to be alone. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong or bad about you. The people who are worth a damn, they stay - you just have to let them in in the first place.”

The older man leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Just be careful, because once you do, it’s all bets off. I had one moment of weakness around Slider 36 years ago and now I’m stuck with him.” 

Pete laughed wetly at that, smiling back as Mav practically beamed at him. 

“I hope you’re right,” he uttered, rubbing again at his face. 

“I am,” Mav replied, nodding firmly. “And look, I’m not going to lie to you and promise forever. Nobody knows what’s around the corner. Hell, a tsunami could take us all out right now.” 

Pete scoffed softly, rolling his eyes as Maverick ruffled his hair teasingly. 

“But the stuff you’re worried about, the mistakes you’re worried about making, I’m sorry but they’re just not gonna cut it.” 

Ice nodded at that. 

“Unfortunately, to shake us at this point you’d have to do things that you’re simply not capable of. And they certainly wouldn’t be accidental.” 

Pete frowned slightly, glancing between the two of them. 

“...Could you give me a clue?” he asked. “You know, to be safe.”

Ice scoffed softly, before cocking his head to the side thoughtfully.

“Alright. We’re talking about doing things that would deliberately traumatise others. Not accidents, like a car crash or getting in a really bad fight, though we’d all rather you avoided that too. Stuff that’s just evil. Things specifically done to make somebody else feel afraid or humiliated or less than” Ice replied calmly, brow rising pointedly. “Do you feel that avoiding that sort of behaviour would be a struggle for you?”

“Fuck, no,” Pete replied, nose wrinkling at the thought of doing anything along those lines.

Ice  nodded. 

“There you go. There’s the bar,” he replied simply. “Anything above that? Worst case scenario, you’re the pain in the ass of the week. And that’s a title we’ve all held at one point or another.”

“Even you?”

“Unjustly,” he sniffed. 

“Ask Uncle Sli about it some time,” Mav replied without missing a beat, before turning back to Pete before Ice could retort. “Honestly kiddo, do you really think Bradely was an angel growing up?” 

“Well… yeah?”

“Think again,” Ice drawled. 

Mav hummed, nodding seriously. 

“Off the top of my head, there was that time he threw a party with his baseball team while we were out of town and trashed the house.”

“The bike he borrowed without asking, rode unlicensed, and totalled - on a dare.” 

“The kitchen he nearly burned down because ‘guys - you can’t pause online games, how many times do I have to tell you?’ and ‘I want bacon’ turned out to be a bad mix.”

“The spy-phase that ended with him trying to sneak onto a military base, ours that is, and then refusing to answer any questions or co-operate after getting caught.” 

“I maintain that that was mostly Hollywood’s fault for taking him to watch True Lies.” 

Pete blinked, stunned by the antics of, by far, one of the more mature ‘big brothers’ he had. 

Ice scoffed, rolling his eyes with a fond smile. 

“And we still love the kid. Did back then when it happened and through much less amusing run-ins too,” he said, before squeezing Pete a little tighter to his side. “So try not to worry so much. You’re a kid, you’re supposed to do stupid things. Mav does stupid things every other day and we still keep him around. And that’s these days. He was an absolute menace when I first met him. And six years older than you are now. You’re a dream in comparison.”

Mav huffed. 

“You are a delight,” he said, patting Pete on the shoulder, before shooting his husband a pointed look. “But I think some people are forgetting which one of us introduced himself by immediately talking shit.”

“We were competing and the fact that you still bring it up almost 40 years later just further emphasises what a sound psychological victory that introduction was for me.”

“I mean I wanted to kick your ass all the more afterwards, so I’m not sure how much of a victory it was.”

“Well you never did, so a big one I would say.”

“Bullshit I never did-!”

“Go-ddddddd,” Pete groaned, though he couldn’t help but grin at the bickering, which, in the span of 10 months, had somehow become the comforting soundtrack of home for him (which probably said a lot about Ice and Maverick, but who cares). “Wher’es Tom when you need him?”

“Our point,” Ice said pointedly, shooting Mav a look that said quite clearly ‘we’re supposed to be a united front, genius (also, you know I’m right), “Is that you’re going to make mistakes. Everybody does. You’re going to do stupid things, things that we don’t approve of. And, because we’re here to help you become the best person you can be, we’ll call you out on it. At one point or another, we’ll disagree, we’ll argue, feelings will probably get hurt, egos will get bruised. And then, we’re going to be here anyway. Because you’re a member of this family and that’s not going to change.” 

“And we’ll remind you of that however many times you need,” Mav replied, smiling warmly at him, before slapping his own knees and leaning back. “Now, how would you like to proceed from here? Are you alright breaking the Birthday Drought today or would you like to go home and we can just have a nice family dinner tonight. Which would you rather?”

Pete bit his lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt. 

“I guess I… I wouldn’t mind staying,” he replied, his heart and stomach fluttering again at the thought of all these people, his family, turning up just for him. But this time, he found his emotions leaning more on the side of nervous excitement rather than all-consuming dread. “I mean, It’s been a minute.” 

“You’re sure?” Ice asked seriously, rubbing Pete’s back reassuringly. “Don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.” 

Pete ducked his head, a small smile spreading across his face as, for the first time since this whole miscommunication came to light, and before that really, something seemed to settle inside of him. Some knot of tension that had been there for so long that he’d just learned to live with it, seemed to ease just the littlest bit. He did not doubt, for a second, that if he decided to leave now, Ice and Mav (and Tom) would cover for him, would back him up and stand in his corner. Whether they needed to or not, and Pete suspected things would probably topple in the direction of ‘not’ because the others would understand.

Drawing in a deep, calming breath (like Ice had been teaching him) he lifted his head a smiled a little wide. 

“I want to,” he said. “Seriously, if I ever say no to chocolate cake I want you to assume that somebody’s stolen my face and is impersonating me.” 

“Mark that down for both of us,” Mav replied, nodding empathetically. 

“Noted,” Ice scoffed, smiling as the three of them got back to their feet. “In that case, we should probably get back. Tom said he’d try to keep them all in one place to give us a moment alone but the fact that he seems to have managed it is making me nervous.” 

Pete snickered as Mav shot him an amused grin, before they both followed Ice back to the beach. It turned out the old man may have been right to worry. 

“In my defence,” Tom drawled as he jogged over to meet them. “I didn’t expect them all to lose their minds.” 

Pete felt like that was a pretty accurate description for the mayhem they’d just walked into. Almost all the daggers and a few of the flyboys were shouting, waving their arms about, jabbing fingers in faces or, in Fanboy’s case, cackling rather manically. And those that weren’t seemed content to either enjoy the show or stoke the fires all the more. It was pandemonium. 

“What did you do?” Ice sighed as they drew closer. 

Tom shrugged. 

“I casually mentioned that Pete and I watched Die Hard for the first time, and asked what other Christmas movies we should watch. And, well...” 

“IT’S SET ON CHRISTMAS EVE, BAGMAN!!! HOW MUCH MORE OBVIOUS DO YOU NEED IT?!” 

“THAT’S ALL YOU’VE GOT! IT’S AN ACTION MOVIE-”

“ON CHRISTMAS EVE!” 

“OH MY GOD! SO WHAT?! SO WHAT?!!” 

“Well, it did distract them,” Ice replied, arching a brow as he took it all in. “They’re going to go full Lord of the Flies any moment now, but it worked.” 

Tom grinned, before slinging an arm around Pete’s shoulders and drawling, “Wanna make it worse?”

“You’ve been a terrible influence on him,” Ice sighed, shooting Mav a despairing glance as Pete laughed softly and shrugged. 

“Sure.”

Tom winked before calling over the noise, “Alright, maybe Die Hard can go one way or the other-”

“NO IT CAN’T,” Jake and Nat hollered in unison, before immediately shooting each other disgusted glares. 

“But surely we can all agree that Nightmare before Christmas-” 

And they were off again, with renewed vigour and with previous alliances suddenly shattered. 

Pete laughed as he took it all in. Tom’s arm around his shoulders; Mav and Ice squeezing his arm and ruffling his hair respectively as they walked by to try and reign in the chaos; Rooster and Hangman each elbowing their way through the crowd, hollering for him to back them up. 

The fears were still there, bubbling away beneath the surface. Pete felt that they probably always would. Allowing himself to stay this attached, to actually believe that maybe this time, just this once, things truly would turn out different… it was risky. Frankly it was downright dangerous. 

“Right, enough of this!!” Rooster hollered over the noise. “Let’s settle this properly.” 

“Agreed,” Jake replied, nodding firmly. “Dogfight football. I bags the babies.” 

“What?!” 

“You can’t take both of them!”

“Can. Did. Pete, Tom, come on.” 

Sometimes, the risks were worth taking. And, well, he’d always liked to think he was a little dangerous.

[sillymercury]

Masterlist ✨

ACOTAR🥀

• Azriel

Totally Annoying and Not Funny at All

Summary: Azriel finds you annoying and he never laughs at your lame jokes… until he does.

I’m Not the Crazy One, She Is! Pt 1

Summary: You weren't trying to kill your neighbor, honestly, you were just defending yourself. But that crazy fae and her antics land you in a holding cell. Luckily getting arrested turns out to be much more fun than you ever anticipated.

Make You See My Crazy Pt 2

Summary: Upon joining the inner circle you expected excitement, movement, enterprise. Instead you were faced with mundane, every day was nearly the same and repetitive motion was killing you. It’s hard sneaking around the person you love but it’s inevitable when they’re the one holding you back.

“What Are You Doing?” “I… Was Told There Was an Emergency…”

Azriel’s shadows have decided that they found someone far more interesting to listen to. Based on this ask

• Lucien

Hey Lucien!

Summary: You’ve been trying so long to make Lucien understand that he doesn’t have to try so hard for someone who doesn’t want him - not when you already love everything about him. When you decide to sing all the things you’ve been too scared to say, your mind can’t help but drift back to all the special moments that inspire you.

• Stolen Lullabies (series) - discontinued

- OCXAzriel OCxLucien OCxMorrigan OCxCassian&Nesta OCxEris -

Summary: When war returns to Pyrthian the inner circle finds themselves on the losing side. In a desperate attempt to turn the tides three brother perform a forgotten spell to call forth a great power through time and space. What happens when that ‘great power’ is a human girl who knows nothing of magic? Will she be of use or has destiny abandoned them?

Part i (New York ver.)

Part i (Prythian ver.)

Part ii

DISCONTINUED: Sorry realized everything I wanted to do could just be broken down to smaller stories and the more I wrote Este the more she hated the entire IC and I'm like... she would never forgive them😭 but I'll have similar characters to her coming out, once I get through all the fluff I'm dying to write.

HARRY POTTER

Nothing yet…

PERCY JACKSON

Nothing yet

[screechingsandwichtriumph]

Yandere Miles Fairchild-kidnapping

Summary: how Miles would act around the whole kidnapping thingie

Warnings: kidnapping, slight manipulation, physical abuse(not done but mentioned), Miles being so nice that you can't even complain about your kidnapping

Asks are always open<3

Miles would be the type of yandere to kidnap you almost immediately

Most yanders save kidnapping as a last resort solution , if their darling rejects them or is leaving, but for Miles this just isn't true. He would kidnap you with any minor reasoning

He really thinks it's for the best and even expects you to thank him about it sometime in the future

I mean, he has a big home that has everything in it , so you will be the most comfortable there with him, right?('this is your new house' be would say grinning and keep showing you around)

And then you will get to meet Flora a cute young girl that makes you want to protect her. Miles instructs her to talk to you and tell you to stay ' you won't leave too , will you?' her voice is soft and she is giving you the most hurt look she can achieve .

' Everyone leaves us , but I feel it , you're different'

And kidnapping you works in Miles favor in more than one ways

That house is a terrifying old building with floors that creek and doors that shut on their own. The nightmares are inevitable and when they come , Miles is right there to comfort you

' Don't worry y/n , you're ok' he softly sais , hugging you ' here , I will stay with you all night to protect you'

Normally you would have pushed him away , but now you were so petrified and his hugs were warma and his face familiar. So you let him sleep in your bed

Waking up the next morning you find him already awake playing with a lock of your hair. ' I'm sorry for taking you here without your permission.' his expressions seem so genuine that you think he might be honest

' I just love you and didn't want to lose you. Everyone I have ever loved has either died or left me. I just want to protect you'

He guilt trips you in feeling bad for him so you will never ever leave and honestly it works.

All together though, it won't be too awful. Miles is a pretty boy (He would find you staring at him and smile that Miles grin knowing damn well what he is doing). The house is enormous and so are the fields that surround it. He and Fiona will keep you busy and happy enough that you forget you were not here on your free will in the first place

You were frequently taken horse riding. The times that Flora was with you it would be more playful but the ones in which you and Miles are alone? Oh he would be extra flirty , giving you winks , helping you of your horse and kissing your hand, while looking up at you with his pretty smile( 'there is my lady. Careful now we don't wanna hurt ourselfs', 'dont I get a kiss for helping you?')

You would take strolls all around the garden collecting flowers and pretty rocks. Once you even found a hedgehog that you and Flora somehow convinced Miles to take in as a pet('please Miles let us keep him!' Flora begged her brother. 'FINE!' he let out 'keep him, I don't care'. He ended up adoring the little animal)

Exploring the rooms, board games ( in which Miles is unsurprisingly and Flora is surprisingly competitive)and even cooking will fill your days. You have everything you want except of your freedom. As long as you don't ask for that you will be ok.

Also try not to anger Miles too much , since he holds you in his hand. He is usually nice and a gentleman but don't push it. He can take away your things , not allow you to go out or even deprive you from food water or a shower.

He would try not to drug you since he loves your personality just as it is. You could yell at him and even try to hit him and those things he wouldn't mind. But if you ever try to hurt yourself or run away , expect to be a bit drugged for a long time.

He wouldn't easily get physical,('please y/n, I really don't wanna hurt you') but if you act out too much , then he won't hesitate to strike you. If he thinks that in order to stay with him , you have to be completely controlled, then he will brake you and rebuild you as he pleases.

'The house is away from everything else , so please stop screaming. Noone is gonna hear you anyway ,dear'

[20-th-centurygirl]

you're mine

mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: smut (this is filth tbh), language, fluff

summary: reader gets jealous when she sees Mason flirting with someone so she shows him who he belongs to

a/n: Oh my godddd I'm so scared about this one but the idea of sub mason is just 😵. This is the first smut I've written and it's honestly just filth. I think i got a bit carried away as its long but oh well. I also actually requested this to different writers but I decided to write it myself too just cause I got obsessed with the idea 🫣

masterlist

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

You knew it wasn't the greatest idea, but you still agreed to go to a club with Mason to celebrate Ben's birthday. You knew fans approaching him, drooling over him and practically attempting to make him fuck them then and there was inevitable, but you couldn't help the tinge of jealously that flooded your senses everytime you witnessed it happen. And that jealously was taking over you right now. Mason had gone over to the bar to get another drink, and just as you'd expected, a girl with the tightest and shortest dress you'd ever seen sauntered over to him, pushing her chest out as she ran her hand up his arm. She was in hysterics and, as funny as he was, nothing Mason had ever said could possibly be that funny. You couldn't tear your gaze away, especially not from Mason who seemed to entertaining her.

You were snapped out of your trance when Ben tapped your shoulder. He saw your gaze from the table opposite yours that he was sat on, and he knew exactly what you were thinking and why you were annoyed.

"If looks could kill they'd have both dropped dead at that bar a while ago" He laughed as you briefly turned your head to look at him before returning your gaze to your boyfriend and the girl that couldn't keep her hands off him. "Nothing he can say is that funny. And people know he has a girlfriend, she's looked at me multiple times so she clearly knows who I am. Bitch." Ben simply chuckled. "Look, remember he's going home with you. He's absolutely whipped for you and you only." "Yeah he looks it." You rolled your eyes as you saw him place a hand on her back before walking towards you, smiling as if absolutely nothing happened. "I'm off, I'll let you two deal with this on your own." He walked off quickly, leaving you and a very confused Mason stood in a quiet corner of the bar.

You could still see the girl watching Mason, smirking at him. "What's wrong baby?" He asked and you rolled your eyes. "Don't fucking baby me. What's wrong is that slag that was throwing herself at you, and instead of telling her to fuck off and that your girlfriend was over there, you entertained her." Shock washed over his face, mainly shock at the way you were speaking. But you'd had a drink and you were not going to tolerate the disrespect, not tonight. "What?" "Oh please she was practically begging you to bend her over the bar and fuck her." His eyes widened at your tone and how vulgar it was. "y/n" He said softly, but you weren't having any of it. You grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the exit, your nails digging into his arm but frankly you couldn't care less. Anger and possessiveness had completely clouded your senses and you were going go show Mason who he belonged to. The moment you were outside you pushed him against as wall, holding the back of his neck you kissed him aggressively, taking the air out of both of your lungs. On his part, Mason found your behaviour extremely attractive and he felt his jeans begin to get tight. He knew you had a jealous streak when it came to him, but it was never this extreme. You pulled away, both heavily panting. You moved your head towards his ear, "you're mine Mason, and I think you need to be reminded of that." You whispered, and you swore you heard Mason let out a faint whimper at the threat. You both stood outside waiting for a taxi, you attacking his neck which didn't help his situation at all. The bulge in his jeans was too obvious to hide, and all he could to was hope he got home soon.

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

The moment you got home you pressed him up against the front door and kissed him hard. Mason didn't have a clue where this was going, and he wasn't sure if the feeling in his stomach was butterflies or anxiety but whatever it was he loved it."Go upstairs. Take off everything except for your boxers and wait on the bed. If you touch yourself I won't even sleep in the same room as you let alone fuck you. Understand?" Mason's mouth dropped wide open and he could only nod as he practically ran up the stairs.

You weren't sure what to do while you waited by yourself, but you wanted to tease him to the point it could be considered torture, just like he did to you. And it was as if a light bulb went off in your head as you figured out exactly how you were going to do that.

You made your way up the stairs, and to your surprise it seemed like Mason had perfectly followed your instructions. "Did you touch yourself?" Mason vigorously shook his head, but that wasn't enough for you. "I can't hear you baby. I asked you a question. Did you touch yourself while you were waiting for me?" The blush that covered his face was unlike anything you'd ever seen before, and you swore you'd never seen him so hard in his Calvin's before. "No. No I didn't." He whispered. You could tell he was embarrassed, while he wasn't normally super aggressive with it, he was generally the dominant one and he'd never been this vulnerable with anyone like this and you hadn't even started. "Good boy" You unzipped your dress, leaving you in nothing but a lacy thong as the dress had an open back, meaning you couldn't wear a bra. You felt nervous yourself, you weren't sure how Mason was going to react and you were scared of making yourself look stupid but judging by the groan he let out at the sight of your bare chest you were doing something right.

You took a deep breath before sitting on a chair that faced the bed. He shot you a confused look "baby what are you doi-" "I don't remember telling you you could speak, do you? You've pissed me off tonight, so I'm getting my own back." You ran your hand briefly over your boobs and down your stomach before sliding it into your underwear. You dipped down to gather some of your wetness onto your finger before circling your clit. You moaned out Mason's name and you could tell this was absolute hell on earth for him. "Please baby. Please let me touch you. Or myself. Or please you touch me I just need something" He whimpered, grinding against thin air. You let out a louder moan as you slid a finger inside yourself, and you saw the frustration that took over Mason's face. You watched as he began to stand up, but you interrupted him. "Uh uh Mount. I'm the one in charge tonight not you. Lie back down or I'll tie you down to that bed and make myself cum over your face before leaving you on your own. If you're good, the amount I've time I'll make you wait before I touch you won't be as long, understood?"

Mason lay back down straight away. You decided to be nice, so you got up and made your way over to him. You put your fingers up to his mouth and he sucked on them instantly, moaning around them. "You taste so good." You dragged your other hand over his nipple before trailing it at an agonisingly slow pace down his stomach before you finally reached where he wanted you the most. He moaned loudly just from you brushing your hand over his dick. You pulled your hand from his mouth. "Are you gonna be good for me? Gonna do everything I say?"

"Yes. I promise. Just touch me please."

You shuffled lower so that your face was inches away from his dick. You pushed one of your hands into his boxers as you stroked him gently and his head fell back immediately. "Look at me. Do that again and I'll stop completely." His head shot up immediately as he tried his hardest to maintain eye contact. You pulled down the waistband of his boxers and he lifted his hips to help you.

When you saw just how hard he was, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Precum was already dripping down him. "Please" his voice was barely above a whisper. "So desperate and I've barely done anything. Bet she couldn't do that could she?" Your tone was firm, and you knew the answer straight away. "No. Only ever you". He whimpered as you pressed a delicate kiss to his tip before you dragged your tongue from the bottom to the top of his dick. His hands instinctively went to your hair, you swiftly pulled off him. "Keep your hands at your sides" his hands grabbed the sheets instead, nodding.

You began to kitten lick his tip before taking all of him into your mouth. The sound he let out was sinful, and you were drenched. His knuckles turned white immediately as his eyes half shut. He was trying desperately to do everything you said, and your heart softened at that. You pulled off and stroked him with your hand instead. "If you really can't keel your eyes open then you don't have to" you said softly before taking him in your mouth again and his eyes rolled back instantly as his head hit the pillows. His pants a desperate noises grew louder and louder and his knuckles turned whiter, and from the way he was twitching in your mouth you knew he was nearly there. "Fuck I'm gonna cum soon. Can I?" You pulled off and jerked him off to gain your breath back, "I think you've been good so far. Yes you can baby." You continued with your mouths actions as you massaged his balls with one of your hands and soon enough he came in your mouth with moans that were pornographic.

But you didn't stop. You carried on with the exact same pace and his whimpers only got louder as he writhed around under you, wanting to get away but still feel the overwhelming pleasure at the same time. "Y/N, fuck I can't. It's too good" He whined. You smirked around him and went faster, determined to make him cum a second time. Soon enough he was nearly there "fuck m'gonna come again. Feels so good." He moaned your name out like a prayer as you felt him finish in your mouth again. You pulled off and began to stroke him slowly with one hand, the other reaching up to his cheeks and wiping a tear that had escaped his eye. You spat on his dick, deciding to make him finish a third time but instead with your hand.

You sped up the actions with your hand, grateful that you could use your mouth to speak to him. "You gonna be a good boy and cum again for me baby?" He nodded, unable to speak, the only sounds coming from his mouth were loud moans and whimpers. "Bet she couldn't make you feel this good could she? Only I can." He nodded, "only you. Oh god I'm gonna cum again." He simply twitched in your hand, too drained to do anything else. You gave him a small break, leaving forward to kiss him gently before pulling away to let him get his breath back. "You're just so perfect. Always make me feel so good." He whispered. You simply smiled at him and kissed his forehead. "Can you do one more for me baby?" You cooed as you locked your eyes with Mason's. His cheeks decorated with a delicate blush, his pupils wide, his hair and forehead damp from the 3 consecutive orgasms you'd given him. He nodded, desperate to please you in any way he could. "Use your words baby." Your question was a mix of both consent and teasing, when Mason was at your mercy you loved repeating the phrases he used on you. "Yes. Yes I can."

You moved onto his lap, straddling him. You leaned into his ear, "if it's too much and you want me to stop then just say the word love." You pressed a kiss to the side of his head as he nodded before lowering yourself onto his length, both of you moaning in unison. You gave yourself a few seconds to adjust to his size, despite you being the one in control Mason always had an effect on you that you couldn't quite describe.

You began to move up and down slowly, still teasing Mason as he let out the most delicate whimpers. "Please don't tease me baby" He whined, bringing his thumb to your clit to rub it in a desperate attempt to make you move faster. "You gonna be good for me if I give you what you want?" Truthfully you needed to move yourself, not feeling him but watching him and hearing him made you insanely desperate for him. "Yes. Always just please move." He stuttered out, letting out an extremely loud moan when you began to bounce up and down. "Fuck Mase you feel so good" you moaned out, the angle hitting the spots deep inside you that made you cum almost instantly. Mason couldn't even speak, the pleasure he was feeling was overwhelming and you almost came right there when you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head. His moans and groans became hoarse as his whimpers and panting took over. "Fuck fuck I'm gonna cum baby" He whined, amazed that he'd managed to string some sort of sentence together as his knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the sheets. "Go on Mase, let go for me baby" you moaned out, knowing you weren't that far off yourself. He bucked his hips up to you a few times, letting out moans louder than anything you'd heard from him before and his eyes began to water. You felt him release inside you, with you following shortly after as a wave of pleasure washed over you. "Fuck fuck fuck". You fell onto his chest, both of you giggling lightly as you both tried to get your breath back.

You climbed off him, Mason whimpering as you did. You whispered a quick sorry before you lay on your side and he turned over to look at you. You brought a hand up to stroke his cheek. "Are you okay?" You smiled, knowing he'd probably never experienced something so intense in his life. "Yeah, I think that was the hottest sex I've ever had in my life." His cheeks still had a light tint on them, and you couldn't resist making the shade deeper. "Never heard you make noises like that before." Much to your amusement, you'd succeeded as he hid his face in your neck. "Don't hide. I thought it was hot, knowing that I can make you feel that good." You smirked. He moved his head so he was face to face with you. "And only you. I'm sorry about earlier, she just wouldn't leave me alone and I thought if I made one little comment she'd leave me alone." He said sheepishly, but you knew he didn't really mean any harm by what he'd done, he was always going to be going home with you in the end. "I know, anyway I've let all my anger out now. Hope you think twice next time."

"If I get again then I might have to flirt back with girls in clubs." His confidence coming back again, no longer feeling embarrassed about the fact you'd seen him more vulnerable than anyone else ever had. "You can always just ask, I'm more than happy to hear you sound like that again." You teased, connecting your mouths. There was no intent to do anything else, mainly because you knew Mason was more than likely incapable of anything else. The kiss was simply a way of showing your love to him, and that he never needed to be embarrassed around you because you would always love him no matter what. He was yours and you were his, always.

[julianalvarez9]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME / MASON MOUNT

PAIRING: Mason Mount x Chilwell!Reader

SUMMARY: What hurts more than the man that you love leaving your childhood club, is having been told from the start that being involved with him was a bad idea.

WARNINGS: mason is kinda a dick in this? maybe not intentionally but...... not really Emotionally Responsible. also, Ben all the way in protective mode.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

Are you free today? Need to talk to you about something xx

The message from Mason, earlier on the day, had made you think about this moment an endless amount of times.

In your mind, there's no other result that him asking you to be his, finally, after months of anticipation. You've been trying not to think about it, though, to avoid any disappointments in case it was just another day, but you can't really ignore the feeling in your gut: you're nervous like you've never been with him.

You figure it might be because this is your first public appearance alone together; that is, without your brother, Ben, or without any of the guys from the Chelsea team, to make it seem like this isn't what it, definitely, is: a date.

In reality, you could have figured what he wanted to tell you from the start. Even before the meeting, there had been multiple clues; like the endless flow of rumors floating around his neck -that he had, definitely, told you to ignore before-, or the public setting to have this conversation, or the chaste kiss he planted on your forehead before sitting in front of you. Not on your side.

Maybe you would have noticed all of it if you hadn't been so caught up in it. In him.

So, when the news finally exits his lips, and it turns out to be something completely different from what you had expected, you're left dumbfounded.

"I'm signing for Manchester United, Y/N. I'm leaving Chelsea this summer".

What?

Maybe you had interpreted it all wrong. From the message, to the hidden glances and forbidden touches shared between you two during all these months, away from all prying eyes, but especially, your brother's. Could it be? Or had he intended, all along, to be so cruel from the start?

Ben had never been enthusiastic with the idea of you two together, and you always assumed that it was out of protectiveness, of fulfilling the role of older brother. But maybe he knew something you didn't.

Your face must have been showing the myriad of emotions you were feeling at the moment, because Mason is quick to launch forward and take your hands in his, like he always did to comfort you. "Hey, you okay?".

As if you hadn't been showered with a cold water bucket just now. As if he hadn't thrown you into the void, without a safety net to catch you when you inevitably reach the ground.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, enthusiastically, painting the widest smile you could muster at the moment. "'M happy for you, Mase, really happy. Just remembered I have somewhere to be right now, uhm, with Ben. I have to go".

Mason would never have let you paid, like he never did before today, but he's so confused about your sudden reaction that he isn't quick enough to stop you from throwing a couple of pounds in the table to cover your tab.

Getting out of the coffee shops feels like a blur.

Your fingers work quicker than you knew they could, dialing the contact in a second, while you rushed down the sidewalk, brushing past strangers who gave you dirty looks for pushing them out of the way. You mumbled apologies left and right, but honestly, the only thing you could see through your tearful eyes is your phone, and how the display changes when your brother, after a couple of seconds, picks up.

"He's leaving".

You don't bother with greetings or introductions. But hearing Ben sigh leads you to believe he already knows who you're referring to, even if you hadn't muttered his name. "Where are you? I'll come pick you up".

The words splutter out of your lips before you can stop them. Maybe you're saying too much, more than he needs, or wants, to know, but you're only trying to come to terms with what Mason had so carelessly announced not even ten minutes before. "I thought we were gonna talk about, I don't know, us," you bitterly laugh, and the term now feels foreign.

Angrily swiping under your eyes to stop the teardrops from falling, you continue speaking. "But no, he sits there, with his always so perfectly styled hair, and his beautiful smile," you hear on the other side of the line how Ben's car keys fall to the floor, and in other occasions, it would have been funny to you -picturing him nervous at merely hinting you find one of his best mates handsome, but now you're too angry to care. "All to tell me he's going to fucking Man United".

The line is silent for a couple of seconds while you keep on rushing past people. You don't really know where you're going, but you're crossing streets and turning in corners like your body knows where it's going without needing directions from your brain.

The words came out bitter from your tongue, almost laced with venom. As if he didn't wish to be wrong, just to see you happy. As if being right was Ben's fault. "Go on. Tell me you told me, warned me, that this would happen. I deserve it".

He's gripping the steering wheel hard, turning his knuckles white to avoid exteriorizing how angry he is at Mason for hurting his little sister. He'd probably make him hear all about it the next time they saw each other, be damned if it was in a public or private setting. Still, the words he's speaking to you through the line are tender. "I could never".

Your legs stop in the all too familiar park. Ironically, it's the same one Mason and you had came so many times before: whether it be for a small picnic, to take Summer on a playdate or to take Ben's dog for a walk.

The realisation only made you cry more, and as if on cue, your brother's arms wrap around your trembling figure. "It's alright, Y/N," Ben whispers, quietly, in your hair, "you're gonna be okay, yeah? I'll make sure of it".

The tears that blur your vision and soak Ben's shirt doesn't let you see another call from Mason; it going straight to voicemail after being denied an answer for so long. But Ben sees it, and a million thoughts cross his mind. One thing is certain, though: he can't afford losing you to Mason, and letting you go to Manchester is not on the cards.

"I'll take you home, yeah?" your older brother asks, knowing that his home would be untouched territory to his old mate. You can only nod in agreement, strength being drained from your body after crying for what feels like a hundred hours, as your mourn what could've been.

Ben knows that, even if he's only trying to protect you, and do what he feels it's right, he can't keep you far away from Mason forever: but this is, for sure, a way.

[shaunamilfman]

Witch!Lottie Drabble

Summary: "Witch!Lottie keeps stopping by your bookstore to buy shitty occult books as an excuse to talk to you."

Lottie Matthews was, hands down, your favorite customer. Not just because she was liable to spend a couple hundred any time she set foot in there, but you felt a strange connection to her that you'd never felt before. 

Your employee Jeff hated her with a passion, however. He claimed she was "Fucking weird." and that she often walked in, saw he was working, and left. It didn't sound much like the Lottie you knew, so you didn't pay much attention to him. You didn't care much for Jeff anyway, but he unfortunately was a model employee.

Sure, Lottie was a little strange. A little unusual. You think she might be a part of a cult, but that's not a crime. Hopefully. You had checked to make sure there weren't any unexplained missing persons in the area, just in case. So definitely not a crime. 

If that wasn't enough, all she buys are books on the occult. Honestly, you only order them for her. You heard her murmur about "Getting rid of revisionist history," more than once when she bought books on the Salem witch trials. 

You honestly didn't care what she did with them once she left the shop. You wondered if she realized she was creating her own problem by buying up the books she disliked so much. You wouldn't have stocked them otherwise; They really didn’t sell that well.

Still, the highlight of her visits came when she'd stand by the register afterwards and talk with you for hours and hours about everything and nothing. She'd always seemed disappointed in herself when you'd gently remind her that the store was closing soon, like there was something she wanted to say but didn't.  You had hopes that she'd ask you out, but you were admittedly too nervous to ask her instead. Lottie Matthews had always made an intimidating figure, even in school.

She brings you gifts sometimes, little trinkets. She brought you a flower from her garden a few weeks ago. You look at it in awe every time you see it. Not necessarily because it's the most beautiful flower you've ever seen, which it is, but because it still hasn't started to wilt in the slightest. It's like magic.

…

She came in on Halloween one day and actually stops in her tracks to look at your witch's hat. She gives you an immeasurably fond look as she shakes her head slightly in amusement. "That's cultural appropriation," She said. You laugh quietly at her as you lean across the counter to look at her.

"To who, witches?" You ask teasingly. She hums in acknowledgement with a smile just smug enough that you wonder if she knows something you don’t. “Well,” You say slowly, “If a witch would like to come and complain she could file it in the complaint box.” Her face lights up as she looks around and says excitedly, “There’s a complaint box?” 

You grin softly as her and glance towards the trash can. “Oh,” She says, deflating noticeably. You fake an offended gasp as you give her an affronted look.

“You were going to file a complaint about me?” You ask. Her eyes widen and she looks slightly panicked, like she just realized she put her foot in it.

“No, no.” She insists. “I was going to file a complaint about Jeff.” You can’t help the way you snort with laughter, head falling down on your arms as you muffle your laughter into the counter. You look up to see Lottie looking a mixture of surprised and pleased as she looks down at you. 

“Sorry,” You say, “It’s just that Jeff doesn’t like you either.” She smirks.

“Good.” She says. You shake your head fondly.

…

You remember the day you found out extremely well. You were standing on a ladder stocking books on the top overflow shelf when she stormed in the shop, obviously trying to get out of the heavy rain outside. You understandably were not expecting customers when it was raining that hard and startled so hard you fell back off the ladder.

You had your eyes closed waiting for the inevitable landing when you realized it had been an oddly long fall. You peaked one eye open to realize that you were floating in mid air. You looked around to find Lottie staring wide eyed at you with one hand out, soaked with rain and so cold she was shaking. 

You remember it so well mostly because she forgot to put you back on the ground as she confesses. You look fearfully at her before she suddenly realizes she hasn't set you down. "Oh!" She says, failing to hide her blush as she helped you down.

You weren't all that surprised honestly once you got over your initial shock. It seemed ironically on brand for what you knew about her. Once she sets you on the ground you give her a concerned look. You walk behind the counter as you search for the blanket you keep for when it gets cold. She’s watching you curiously as you walk back over to her and wrap the blanket around her, holding tightly around her shoulders. 

“You’re going to get sick being so wet and cold.” You chide. She smiles so wide it practically splits her face in two. “You need to go home and change into dry clothes.” You say.

“I will,” She promises. “If…”

“If what?” You ask.

“If you say you’ll go on a date with me.” She says, touched with a tinge of anxiety.

You sigh dramatically, as if it was a really hard ask. “If I must,” You say, but can’t help the way you smile widely back at her.

As she left the store you shouted at her to ask “Should I be looking for your car or your broom?” She turns back so that you can see the way she rolls her eyes. She says something about “Reductionist stereotypes,” but you were laughing too hard at your own joke to be sure. 

…

She never seems to be very showy with her magic. It's the small things really: you notice that her plants never die, her dishes are always clean, and her food never burns. You teased her for weeks after you realized that her popcorn always perfectly popped as well. 

She uses her magic most often as a sign of affection. Just a way to make your day easier and to remind you how much she loves you.  She'll pick up lunch or bring you coffee sometimes and it makes you think of her fondly all day as it stays perfectly at the right temperature. As if you could ever forget about Lottie, witch or not. 

Eventually you happily fired Jeff as Lottie spent so much time hanging out in the bookstore now that you just put her to work instead. She was overjoyed for weeks about it. She'd never worked a day in her life, you could tell, but she cheated so much with magic that it didn't matter all that much. You couldn't help but watch fondly as the books she 'unpacked' flew across the room into their proper spots. She grins ear to ear as she walks over and asks if she did a good job. You know she’s just fishing for a reward, but you give it to her anyway.

As you watch her fret over recipes as she brewed potions you couldn't help but to think that she really wasn't all that different from anyone else: She just had magic. Your life together was surprisingly more domestic than you had thought it would be, but you wouldn't change it for the world. 

[writingseaslugs]

Scarabia: When They're Sick

Ugh so this one was kind of low key fun to write. I normally have a harder time writing for Scarabia, but thanks to a friend who ships their OC with Kalim it's been a lot more fun writing for him. Honestly all I need are friends who ship their characters with others so I can imagine their OC with said character and we're good to go. Anyway, enough with the rambles, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

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Scarabia: When They’re Sick

The Scalding Sands and Night Raven College couldn't be more different in terms of climate and plant life. While Scarabia’s dorm was a safe haven, the members still had to go to classes. Hayfever wasn’t an uncommon thing for the dorm members who came from the Scalding Sands to experience. The bad news about hayfever is that if you don’t properly take care of it, it isn’t uncommon for it to progressively get worse until you actually are sick. Sadly a few members had to learn this the hard way.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is the last person to know that he’s sick, in all honesty. He can feel that he’s slowing down when he’s getting ill, but doesn’t think anything of it. He just assumes it’s nothing but allergies until he’s suddenly running a high fever and is put on bed rest by Jamil. Even while sick though, he’s still trying to get up and do things. He cannot sit still for long, so waiting in his room until he’s magically feeling better is a nightmare process for him.

The moment you offer to help him out, he’s thanking you and is over the top in gratuity. He might be five seconds from fainting due to the fever, but that won’t stop him from trying to hug you. Jamil is going to have to assist in carrying him back to his bed. The only reason you’re even allowed to help out is because Jamil knows that Kalim will listen to you if you tell him he needs to stay in bed. Kalim listens to Jamil sometimes, but when it comes to you, he becomes an obedient puppy who’s ready to please. You tell him to sit in his bed and rest and he will, as long as you promise not to leave.

Be prepared to have a very pouty boy on your hands the moment you tell him it’s time to take medicine. He doesn’t like the way it coats his mouth and leaves an aftertaste, so he’s not a fan. Of course he’ll take it if you ask him to, but he’s going to be staring at you with big eyes pleading for you to say “Never mind.” Don’t let him fool you, be stern and he’ll take it. He will be making grabby hands for some water after though, so make sure you have it on hand.

Let’s be real, Jamil is making all the meals no matter what. The boy could be on death’s door and he’d still make Kalim something to eat. So really meal times are just you sitting on the bed with Kalim with a large assortment of hand selected meals to help Kalim feel better, and Kalim telling you to open wide so he can feed you some. You’ll need to remind him that the food is for him and not you, but he swears up and down Jamil made so much that you guys can share. Just don’t use the same spoon as him if you don’t want to end up in his position.

Kalim recovers pretty fast from illnesses, so give him two days and he’s jumping off the walls again, ready to do anything. He’s going to be wanting to throw a party since he’s been so bored the past few days, and wants to dedicate it to you. Either turn him down nicely and insist perhaps after a while and he’s fully recovered you can, or just go with it. You might be needing to write an apology letter to Jamil for the party that will inevitably happen. Poor man just finished nursing Kalim to health alongside you, and is now being thrusted into making and hosting a party.

Jamil Viper

Jamil refuses to acknowledge that he’s sick and will try and pretend like he isn’t. He will have to be on the verge of collapsing in order for him to decide perhaps he does need to take a break. Even then, the stress of not being there for Kalim is going to make recovery a lot harder. He needs to relax, yet all he can do is stress himself out about Kalim possibly getting poisoned while he’s sick, and then news getting back to his family back home.

Jamil won’t be asking for help at all, so you’ll have to kind of force him to let you help out. He is grateful, of course, but he’s not used to being on the receiving end of this kind of transaction. He’ll still be trying to do everything himself and you’ll need to remind him several times that the only job he has right now is getting better. He trusts you though and will be able to rest easy after you assure him that you can help take care of Kalim and make sure the boy doesn’t somehow kill himself in the few days it takes for him to recover.

Jamil will take any medicine without complaint. He knows it’s needed to feel better, and anything that helps speed up the process is needed. The only thing is he’ll be a bit feverish and not remember what times he needs to take what, so that’s where you come in. You’ll basically be waking him up from his sleep with either pills and some water, or a small cup of liquid medication for him to take. This is all he really needs and he’s so thankful to have you keeping track for him.

He’s used to eating whatever he makes, so having someone cook for him is a pleasant change of pace. He honestly prefers simpler dishes when sick since he can’t taste all that well, so some chicken noodle soup is his favorite. Add a few spices if you want, but he probably won’t notice. He might ask you to make it again when he’s better so he can properly have something you make; take this as a huge compliment. He might even get a recipe from you if you make it differently than others in this world.

He’s getting right back to his routine the moment he’s better, but he will be sweeter to you. Giving you kinder smiles and a small thank you as well. He might even invite you over to have dinner with him sometime so he can take care of you for the evening as a thank you. He isn’t used to someone outside of his family really giving a damn when he’s sick. Sure Kalim tries, but there’s no way that Jamil could ask Kalim to take care of him, even if the boy really wants to.