#i bought the dam book okay

[kekaki-cupcakes]

My opinion on TSATS

The plot was as holey as Will's cheese hat and I love the book and hate it and would build a throne for it then burn it and cry and thank Rick and Mark then kill them on sight and-

[damiansgoodgirll]

I just read your soft for you and I love it. If it’s okay can I request something? :)

So it’s a Damian Priest and it’s for like a plane ride and the night at the hotel and the reader is super tired from jet lag? (If you can’t that’s fine if you can thank you!)

damian priest x reader

a little angst, sorry not sorry.

i changed it a little cause i’ve never experienced jet lag, i hope you like it anyway!

stay the night

“why don’t you stay the night?” you heard damian asking you softly.

“uh?”

“i asked, why don’t you stay with me tonight? in my room?” he asked again “you’re hotel is way too far from the arena and from the airport and it’s too late, we are in new orleans and i don’t like you going around late at night in a city you barely know” he suggested.

you got booked last time for the show in new orleans. in all honesty, you didn’t even want to be there. yes you were the champion but hunter promised you full two weeks of complete relax, away from the ring and from the cameras.

not even three days later, you received a call from hunter himself saying that they needed you in a match against bailey in new orleans.

you could tell that he was sorry and he kept apologising from disturbing you from your vacation so you said yes.

your manager booked you a last minute flight and lucky for you, you got the same one as the other wrestlers were in, but the hotel was way too far away and you were there all by yourself. it wasn’t the ideal, especially not knowing the city very well.

plus you hate being on planes late at night. even if it was a short flight, you felt uncomfortable with everyone around you sleeping and you not being able to close your eyes, no matter how tired you were.

damian had been a great travel buddy. he was the one next to you and you thanked whoever bought your ticket because you never got this lucky. you shared some music together and some jokes, trying to not make any noise.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna bother…” you said.

“it’s not a bother at all…i can take you to your hotel in the morning when it’s all sunny and warm…but i’ll feel better if you stayed here…at least you’re not alone…”

“are you sure?” you asked him again.

truth was you had the biggest crush on him and even if you had plenty of sleepovers together, you never shared the same hotel room and that was making you a little nervous.

“yes…you’re my best friend, it’s like your sleeping at my house, but instead we are in a fancy hotel room where we can order all the room service we want” he said and you agreed.

best friend.

it made your heart clench.

you knew someone like him wouldn’t like someone like you but in the deep of your heart you still hoped something could change.

but instead of being all moody about it, you were too tired to even keep your eyes open from the landing to the arrival at the hotel. you remembered barely of it. you knew your legs were walking for you but your mind was somewhere else.

“you awake princesa?” damian smirked when he saw you falling into the comfort of the hotel bed.

“uh?” you replied.

“clearly not…” he smiled.

“i’m so tired dam…you know how much i hate flying at night…was it really necessary? like we could have taken a bus or i could have driven…” you complained and damian smiled at your cute childish behaviour.

“okay you should definitely got to bed…i’m gonna take a quick shower and then i’m gonna joining you…those blankets look very comfortable…” he smiled before entering the bathroom and locking himself in it.

suddenly you were awake.

damian was used to sleep almost naked. you knew it because you’ve been at his house so many times but you’ve never actually slept together. it was always you in the guest room or you falling asleep on his couch.

but you were just friends right?

what could possibly go wrong?

your heart missed a a few beats when you saw him coming out of the bathroom wearing just a grey pair of sweatpants. no t-shirts. nothing at all. just his chest full of tattoos and nothing more.

you saw him like that multiple times when he was training or when he was in the ring but having him so close and so naked was making your head spinning.

“you still awake?” he asked while he got comfortable under the covers.

“uhm…yes”

“i thought you were tired” he teased.

“i was…” you whispered.

“what are you thinking about princesa?” he asked, slowly turning his head towards you.

“nothing important…”

“it has to be important if it kept you awake all the time i was showering” he laughed. how you loved his laugh.

“really…nothing important…just the match i think…”

“you nervous?”

“no…i…” how you were supposed to say that you liked him. how you were supposed to stay calm when he was only a few inches from you, half naked. how were you supposed to stay quiet when his hot breath was all over your face “i think i’m just going to sleep now…”

“in your clothes?” he asked.

and then you remembered. your suitcase was sent to the hotel you were supposed to be that night so you were left with only your small harry potter backpack, that contained anything but clothes.

“shit…”

“you can wear something of mine…” he got up and borrowed you a clean t-shirt “here…i don’t have a second pair of pants but it should be long enough to cover your - well you know it” he almost smirked.

“oh thank you…” your cheeks were red and you were feeling all hot inside. you moved quickly, entering the bathroom and changing into his clothes. the t-shirt smelled like him and all you wanted to do was cry because you wanted something like that every day, not just today. you wanted to sleep next to him every night and waking up with him between your arms - or legs - you wanted a life with him.

but you couldn’t have it.

“here you are…” he smiled when he saw you wearing his shirt. in fact it wasn’t that long and damian was amused in seeing you trying not to move so fast, otherwise your ass would be on display.

“thank you, again, for everything…” you slowly got into bed and closed your eyes.

“y/n…?” he called you.

“mh?”

“good night…” he gently kissed your head and turned off the light.

a tear slowly fell from your eyes.

his arm moving to your hip and resting over there.

what looked normal for him, looked everything for you, everything you wished for but you couldn’t have.

[harrysbooty]

jack champion hc’s!

a/n: currently in deep jack champion brain rot… this prob has errors but i’m too tired to care so enjoy!! 💘💘

jack champion! who practically kisses the ground you walk on. in his eyes, you hung the sun, moon, and stars.

jack champion! who saves just about any picture you send him.

jack champion! who lets you talk on and on just because he likes loves the sound of your voice.

jack champion! who could stare at you for hours. (in a loving way, not a creepy weirdo way)

jack champion! who never misses the opportunity to post about you. tiktok, instagram, bereal, anything. trust me you’re on it.

jack champion! who always finds a way to bring you up in any conversation.

jack champion! who loves the feeling of your touch. sexual or non-sexual. i mean physical touch is his middle name.

jack champion! who follows you around like a lost puppy. (seriously even has the puppy eyes and everything)

jack champion! who will learn your favorite song on piano. (yes i fully believe he is a piano guy. no i won’t be taking any comments at this time)

jack champion! who believes you’re it for him. he’ll never find another like you, and to be honest he doesn’t really need to.

jack champion! who calls you any nickname in the book. baby, sweetheart, love, babe, angel, etc. although his personal favorite is baby doll.

jack champion! who is an absolute sap for you and has no shame in showing it.

“bro you’re so whipped.”

“okay and?”

jack champion! who could sit in complete silence with you but still be perfectly content, just because he’s with you.

jack champion! who says i love you almost too quickly. but once he felt it, he couldn’t not say it.

jack champion! who will spam text you 70 times if you don’t answer after the first. oh and don’t forget about the 30+ calls/facetimes.

jack: hey

jack: hello

jack: hi

jack: i’m bored

jack: can u come over

jack: i miss u

jack: hellooooo

jack: are u dead

jack: babe

jack: babe

jack: babe

jack: what if i was falling off a cliff rn

jack: u don’t love me

jack: ANSWER PLS

jack: im actually dead now thx u let me die

jack: HELLO

jack: pls answer me

jack: im sad

jack: i miss u

you: jack i was showering

jack: U STILL LET ME DIE

jack champion! who sends you tiktoks even if you’re sitting directly next to him.

jack champion! who prefers to be little spoon because he likes the feeling of being in your arms. (barf)

jack champion! who makes it his mission to make sure your entire family likes him.

jack champion! who will buy you anything you need because he likes to spoil you. see a necklace you like? expect to get it for your birthday. new dress you saw at a store? already bought.

jack champion! who does anything to make you blush.

jack champion! who is die hard one direction fan. like knows every song. (but let’s be honest don’t we all?)

jack champion! who plays with your hair whenever your head is in his lap.

jack champion! who loves when you play with his fingers subconsciously. it’s something so simple, but it makes his heart soar everytime.

jack champion! who knows your every order from any food place you guys go to.

jack champion! who traces small shapes into your thighs when his head in in your lap. (bonus points for small kisses here and there)

jack champion! who always greets you first before doing anything else when he comes home. (if you’re living together or even just visiting one another)

jack champion! who will kiss any part of you he can. (don’t tell anyone i told you this but his favorite is nose kisses, giving or receiving)

jack champion! who would do anything for you because you’re the best thing to happen to him and he’ll be dammed if he ever lost you. (told ya… mans a sap)

a/n: zoowee she was a lengthy one. pretty pls send in any requests you have for me. i do top gun, obx, jack (just not ethan yet bc i haven’t watched any of the scream movies but i’m getting there i promise). anywho hope u liked :)) smooches 💘💘

[mj-iza-writer]

Because I got a rude comment from a homophobe. ALSO, because I love writing Whumper and Whumpee relationships where they just bicker back and forth like an old married couple. But Whumper be dammed if anyone messes with Whumpee on their watch, thats their job no one elses..... 😝

Whumper gave up on torturing Whumpee a long time ago. Whumper just doesn't want to get rid of them though. They both just bicker back and forth now. It's a game for both of them now.

Have I written a story like this already... yes. Will I write more like this.... also yes.

Whumpee snuck another package into the cart while Whumper looked over some fruit.

"Put it back, we aren't getting those", Whumper didn't even look.

"Put what back?", Whumpee shrugged as they pretended to look at apples.

"Whatever few items you slid in when you thought I wasn't paying attention", Whumper turned.

"Come on, I'm hungry.... and I want snacks", Whumpee pleaded, "please."

"No", Whumper rolled their eyes.

"I'll do it", Whumpee grinned slightly.

"No, you won't. Please behave", Whumper frowned.

Whumpee only grinned wider, "please master."

"Whumpee, stop it", Whumper shushed, "you know you don't call me that in public."

"I'll get on the ground and crawl to your feet like you used to make me", Whumpee whispered, "I'll beg like I did when you were doing you know what to me."

"You do it, you will never come shopping again", Whumper threatened.

Whumpee looked at the floor, then at Whumper.

Whumper looked around, "fine you can choose two snacks, but that's it."

Whumpee celebrated by throwing their arms up, "yah!"

"You little crook, black mailing me", Whumper looked in the cart, "how did you get that much in their."

"I know how to sneak things past you", Whumpee winked, "I used to do it all of the time. It was a survival skill I learned."

"Like when?", Whumper pinched the bridge of their nose.

"Let's leave the past where it belongs", Whumpee grinned.

"Only when it's about you right? You proudly wave what I did like it's one of your pride flags", Whumper pushed the cart out of the way to grab something.

"Exactly", Whumpee grinned as they looked over the snacks they had hid in the cart, "though if you want to know one example, I'm the one who kept changing the station on your radio. Every night when you showered, I would sneak and change it."

"I bought a new radio because of you", Whumper bumped the cart into Whumpee, "let me guess you stole all of the batteries from the remotes to."

Whumpee laughed, "kind of, I helped your friend do it as a joke. They paid me twenty dollars to help them."

"What did you do with twenty dollars?", Whumper turned down another aisle, "you never left the house, I know that's for certain."

"I asked your friend to use it to buy me snacks for my stash", Whumpee smiled, "I held onto it for a while, then you started to starve me, so I gave it to them to get me food."

Whumper shook their head, "not going to lie, I'm kind of impressed."

"Thanks", Whumpee smiled, "I never thought I'd admit any of that, but here we are."

"Well you did what you did to survive", Whumper frowned, "I'm sorry you had to though."

"It's okay. Like I said, the past is past", Whumpee smiled, "I'm glad we can joke about it now."

"Same", Whumper winked.

On their way through the store, Whumpee noticed a pride display.

"Go ahead and look", Whumper grinned and watched Whumpee walk to it before following them.

"I wonder what this flag means", Whumpee held one up, "I've not seen it yet. It looks cool."

Whumper pulled out their phone, "it's for the...."

A group of people came by and glared at Whumpee.

"You know that's a sinner's flag right?", one of them pointed, "repent to the Lord you sinner."

Some others laughed at Whumpee.

Whumper sighed, "let those without sin throw the first stone."

Whumper glared at the group.

"You have no idea what you are talking about and hide behind a book when it's a mockery of who God truly was", Whumper scolded, "do you think God would be agreeing with you, or would They be hugging my friend here who you all just hurt. Now get out of my face before I give you a really big problem."

"You can't talk to us like that", an older person yelled.

"But you can talk to us like how you just did", Whumper grinned, "you are doing God a big disservice."

Whumper watched the group quickly walk away after that.

Whumpee made a sniffling sound.

Whumper looked at them and saw they had turned away to hide their tears.

"I'm sorry Whumpee, I'm sorry that happened", Whumper reached for them, and pulled them close to hug them, "you know they're wrong and closed minded."

Whumpee nodded, "it still hurts."

An employee came up, "I'm sorry for bothering you. I just witnessed what happened and called my manager and security. That group is being removed from the premises and will not be welcomed back. We are LGBQTA+ allies and will not let that slide. If you'll hang out right here, my manager wants to apologize in person."

"Yes that's fine, thankyou so much", Whumper nodded as they rubbed Whumpee's back.

The group shuffled by, all glared at Whumper and the store employee.

"You fucking queers are what's wrong with this country", one of them yelled.

"Your hate is what's wrong with this world", Whumper retorted.

"Whumpee, how about you pick something out in the pride area while we wait", Whumper smiled.

"You mean it?", Whumpee looked up in shock.

"Yes that's fine", Whumper smiled.

The manager came over and apologized for the scene and offered a discount on their items they were purchasing.

Whumper thanked them and the store employee for how the situation was handled.

"It's not a problem, we have to stick together", the manager smiled, "I'm glad they have an ally like you to take care of them."

Whumpee nodded, and grinned at Whumper.

Whumpee cuddled their new item close as they watched out of the window on the way home.

"Thankyou Master, I'm thankful for you speaking up for me", Whumpee smiled at Whumper.

"You're welcome, Whumpee. Let's get home", Whumper smiled.

Hello, MJ here. I want to be clear, I fully support the LGBQTA+ and I am proud to also be part of the community, I love this community so much. I strive to make sure my account is as safe as I know how to make it, and that's not just for LGBQTA+ community but for other communities as well.

I am, in fact, a gay Christian. I disagree with those who say God is against being gay, as it is everywhere in the world.

I received a comment today on YouTube that said that the LGBQTA+ is disgusting and against Biblical principles (it's not, the Bible was rewritten). This is not the first time I've heard this, I wish I had a dollar every time I heard it though.... I'd be rich."

Sorry I'm rambling...... Love is Love.... 🌈🌈🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ .... -MJ

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

[farmerlarrry]

Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter eleven | chapter ten | read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

a/n:  Another fun chapter to write lol. Also, I really don't know anything about horses (or riding horses) and tried to do research to the best of my ability, so if anything is inaccurate, I apologize!

word count: 5829

if you want to be notified when I post new chapters, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and put on notifications! If you'd rather be tagged, just let me know.

Chapter Twelve

The moment your brain processes what came out of James’ mouth, Joel is back, you start shoveling everything back into your backpack: your journal, the book you bought with you, the water canteen, everything that found its way out of your bag. As you’re frantically wrapping up what’s left of your sandwich, it slips out of the paper wrapping and falls to the ground; the top piece of bread tumbles a few feet away from the rest and the one thinly sliced tomato is now covered in dirt and small rocks. At this moment, you couldn’t care less, not even giving it a second thought and leaving it there for the birds and animals to have at it. As soon as you have everything in order, you’re flying down the rugged path, your legs moving faster than you thought possible. Strands of hair keep finding their way in your mouth and you have put your arms out in front of you to shield your face from the overgrown bushes and trees. On a handful of occasions, you nearly slip on the loose gravel, sending a shock of adrenaline shooting through your veins.

When you get to the barn, Lucky seems to be overwhelmed by your erratic behavior, she softly neighs in suspicion, carefully watching you as you frantically untie her reins from the rotting wood post. The worn leather fumbles under your thumbs, causing you to become slightly frustrated at how slow it was taking. As soon as you mount her, she breaks out into full speed, taking you back toward the main gates without any sort of direction coming from you. The wind is cold on your face, you can feel the tip of your nose become raw due to wind burn. A small group of four guards are very slowly making their way back to the community, presumably coming back from the dam. Lucky rushes past, causing them to turn their heads at you. Where’d she come from, you hear one of them say.

Lucky is still at a sprint as she comes up to the gates. The moment your weight shifts onto one stirrup as you begin to demount her, she hastily slows down, letting you drop to the ground without falling. You’re holding onto her reins tightly, you can feel the palm of your hand begin to perspiration as you scan the entrance with tunnel vision, completely ignoring the guards approaching you.

“Can you…” You don’t finish your sentence as you hand her off to one of the guards, looking past them into the community. Oh, I guess, okay… you hear them mumble under their breath, their tone sounding seemingly confused, but not entirely put off by your request. Wiping your palms on the bottom of your thin thermal long sleeve, you continue searching for Joel. An intense feeling of anticipation and worry rises in your chest, almost catching you off guard. Would they have taken him to the infirmary? The thought suddenly occurs to you. Whoever called it in said there was one survivor, not specifying what physical state they were in. You come to a dead stop, spinning slowly around in a circle, your eyes shifting from one side to the other as you turn. Joel is nowhere in sight. 

In the corner of your eye, you see the door to the guard trailer swing open. Nora is slowly walking out with her head down, distracted by her clipboard; she's scribbling something onto the piece of paper, her face is screwed tight as she concentrates. She definitely knows where he’s at, you think, immediately sending your body into action, charging toward her as she turns her back toward you. 

“Joel’s back?” You grab Nora by her shoulder as soon as you’re within an arm’s reach, pressing your fingertips firmly into her. She swiftly turns around on one heel looking you up and down with an insulted expression and holding her clipboard in front of her as if it were a shield. Nora doesn’t say anything initially, just glaring at you in return. “ Where is he? ”

“Who said he–” She looks around her, keeping her eyes narrowed and her voice hushed, seemingly not wanting anyone to overhear. Of course they would want to keep this on the downlow , you think. 

“Don’t fuck with me, Nora,” You cut her off, not attempting to keep the volume of your voice down. You’re in no the mood to play anyone’s childish games today. “I heard James on the radio.”

Her chest expands outward as she deeply sucks in some air through her teeth, her eyes shifting upward in annoyance.

“You’re not supposed to be on that channel,” She monotonously responds, hardening her expression. Her fingertips turn white under her first grasp on the clipboard. You give her a challenging look, not giving up on your mission to find Joel. She eventually gives up, rolling her eyes and pointing in the direction of the trailer. “ Whatever… he’s in there. By the way, James knows you–”

You promptly push past her, nearly sending her to the ground. Hey, what the fuck, you can hear her call after you with hostility in her words, but in the moment you don’t care. You just want to see Joel and have the reassurance that he’s okay.

The door isn’t completely latched when you reach for the pull handle, allowing you to enter the trailer unnoticed; the door lets out a quiet, barely audible squeak as you ease it back closed with one of your hands. Joel is standing at the edge of one of the countertops in the back half of the trailer, leaning his hip against the edge. The trailer had been completely stripped bare and remodeled by Tommy into a command center for the higher up guards once Jackson became more of an established community. Beside the cabinetry, there were a few narrow tables and cushioned benches lining the wall up. 

Joel is distracted, completely occupied by something, probably a map of some sort, on the counter. From this angle you can see that he’s slowly dragging his finger along it. For a short moment, you take advantage of him not knowing you're there; staring at him, unable to breathe. It’d be really fucked up if I woke up right now, you think. The way this happened– it feels just like one of your many dreams you had about his return.

“You’re back,” You finally bring yourself to say something, your voice coming as a surprise even to yourself. Joel’s head shoots in the direction of your voice, his eyes undeniably full of remorse and almost a hint of relief the second he sees it’s you. 

He abandons what he had been looking at, turning around to face you completely; leaning back, he places his palms flat down on the counter, curling his fingers around the edge. You notice his swollen, freshly bruised knuckles turn white, blood pooling in his fingertips. Once the initial realization dissipates, he straightens himself up and brings his hands in front of him, adjusting his cracked watch. Your eyes move downward, now taking notice of the crimson blood mixed with dirt on the top of them, expanding up his arms. Whatever happened out there must’ve been bad, but he seems okay; upright, breathing, you think, a sense of relief overtaking your worry. 

“I had some… loose ends I needed to tie up,” He responds softly, almost too carefully. You dart your eyes back up to his face, the gash above his eyebrow now stands out, along with a busted lip. He’s very obviously avoiding any eye contact with you. His lips are slightly parted, making it evident he doesn’t know what else to say.

In response, you slightly nod at his bullshit answer, pursing your lips and raising your eyebrows at him. You let some air inaudibly escape past your lips, dragging your finger along the surface of one of the tables. His muscles tense up as you walk closer to him, though he remains still. You stop when there's only a few feet separating the two of you, looking up at him with wide eyes. His throat bobs as he finally brings himself to match your gaze.

“For a year?” Your words come out as a painful croak, your throat starting to itch and burn. “It took you a year to wrap things up? What does that even mean?” 

He brings his hand up to your collar, fixing it back into its proper position; running the tattered edge between his fingers before letting his hand drop to his side, bringing his dark, heavy eyes back up to meet yours. Joel looks a lot more worn down since you last saw him, it would be alarming under any other circumstance. His worry lines have become deeper, his eyes hold a deeper sense of sadness and dissatisfaction; you didn’t think that was even possible. Your emotions quickly take over your rational thought, and you don’t think before you speak.

“You didn’t even say goodbye… to Tommy, or… to—“ You press further, wanting answers from him, but not knowing where to even begin. He redirects his eyes to the floor, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and lightly gnawing on it. You continue to carefully watch him, attentive enough to catch any change in his microexpressions. You’ve learned, at least with him, those are more telling than words would ever convey. Joel clears his throat, his shoulders raised in discomfort. 

Taking another small step closer, you bring your hand up to his chin, turning his face so you can see the deep cut just above his eyebrow a bit better; semi-dried blood clings to his eyelid and his cheek. Joel’s jaw tenses up the longer you look, shifting his weight underneath him. He gently grabs your wrist, that familiar roughness of his palm rubbing against your skin. 

“You do patrol now?” He changes the subject, slowly pulling your hand away from his face. Joel takes a few steps to the side to create more distance between you and him.

“Yeah, after you left, I too-” You start to say, but the sound of the door aggressively banging up against the metal exterior of the trails makes you stop mid sentence and look over your shoulder. James enters the trailer. He has a tight grip on his gun which is slung over his shoulder and his hair is messily tousled. Of fucking course, the thought pops into your mind the moment see it’s him . You quickly roll your eyes, turning your body completely to face him. Tommy shortly follows behind him, the door snapping shut. 

“Yeah, I showed her how to do things properly ,” James interrupts, his eyes narrowing in Joel’s direction. You can see the muscles in his jaw tense up. 

You turn your head toward Joel, who does the same, and you give him a shy smile. Joel lets outs a small awkward laugh, slowly nodding his low hanging head; only lifting it when Tommy clears his throat.

“ Joel, ” Tommy says tightlipped, approaching Joel. You take a few steps back, pushing yourself up against the side to make room. “You know the drill by now, gotta go see Maria ‘n talk.” 

“No welcome train for me this time?” Joel says darkly. Tommy doesn’t react, still staring at Joel stone faced.

“You comin’ too?” Tommy half turns and directs towards James.

“I’ll catch up in a minute,” He responds, his voice is uptight sounding, tension is thick in the tone. Fuck, you close your eyes, not wanting to deal with James right now.

Joel stiffly reaches across from you, grabbing his backpack which was sitting on the bench next to you; your eyes linger on each other as his arm brushes up against yours. The hair on your arm raises at the close proximity, you don’t want him to leave– not now. You try to control your breathing, knowing James is carefully watching you. Ever since the two of you have gotten closer , Joel has become an especially sore subject. Even the mention of his name in passing conversation can turn his mood sour in an instant. You know that deep down he knows what Joel means to you. You’ve never talked to him about it directly, but you’re sure the way you reacted when he left made it very apparent. With James being the only one there for you during that period of time, there’s no way he doesn’t have a tiny bit of an inkling.

The door to the trailer snaps shut once again, the latch still doesn’t latch, leaving a thin streak of sunlight beaming across the floor and walls. You can hear some of the guards talking outside, although not clear enough to hear what they’re saying. James backpedals, pulling on the handle more forcibly so it fully closes– the loud slam causes you to shudder– he then slowly walks over to you, his posture becoming more relaxed now that it’s just the two of you. An anxiousness unmistakably radiates off of him; his face is long, excessive worry exudes from his eyes. James takes a seat on one of the cushioned benches underneath one of the windows right next to where you’re standing and leans back, spreading his legs. 

“Where have you been?” His voice is soft, yet bitter as he speaks, his hands now clasped together laying in his lap. He sounds like your father when you’d miss curfew. You begin to chew on the inner flesh of your cheek, your cheeks becoming warm. “You were late, again might I add , and you never called in…” 

Your eyes widen. Fuck, I forgot, the realization hitting you like a truck You really were on one today, first with the dam and now not calling in. This only works if you keep your end of things up and running, no mistakes or minor slip ups. You force yourself to swallow the excess saliva that has built up in your mouth.

“I do my job, I—“ You stumble on your words, though you know nothing will be good enough of an excuse as to why you didn’t call in– not for James. It’s one of the first rules they teach you in training, and probably the most important rule of being a guard and doing patrol; always communicate, always call in, over communicating is better than under communicating. You can vividly hear Maria’s voice in your head.

“Well apparently not today,” He snaps back, the aggressiveness behind his words make you flinch. It hurts coming from him, even though you know it’s a well deserved scolding. James already puts his neck out enough for you as it is. “You’re lucky with how things turned out–”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” You match his tone which upsets him more.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” James instantly spits back, you can see the muscles in his neck tense up and red coming to the surface in both his cheeks.

“Why are you so fucking uptight right now,” You become defensive, grasping at anything that might make him think he’s in the wrong here.

“Why?” He says in disbelief. A line appears between his eyebrows as he cocks his head to one side. The way he’s looking at you is as if it should be obvious. “Probably because I fucking care about you… when they called in what happened at the dam, all I could think about was you and how you were supposed to be there today, and how you didn’t call in to clear it yet. You could’ve been dead for all I know.” 

You lower your head, understanding his concern and anger. A deep feeling of guilt and embarrassment resonates deep inside of you. 

“Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to go out by yourself anymore,” He adds, his voice now sounding threatening. 

“What? No , James,” You immediately shoot back. “It slipped my mind…I promise it was just a one time mistake, I–”

“It’s not just because of that. What happened at the dam– you shouldn’t be out there with no one to help you if something like this happens again. Despite what many people in the community think, there’s still so many dangers outside of these walls,” He says and you know he’s right. “Maria’s concerned as well, questioning my judgment now… Did you see anything when you were there?” 

“No, everything looked fine, like it hadn’t been touched since last time I was there, at least. I don’t know about the others who checked it after that,” You sound defeated, looking around as you try to recollect the details of your sweep; your eyes wander, running along the papers, notes from guards, and the countless maps with various markings all tacked up to the wall. Your mind is blank.

“It’s just, uh–” His voice goes dry, his throat bobbing as he forces himself to swallow. “When we swept it, it looked like they might’ve been staying there for a little bit… Well, someone was, at least. Behind one of the control centers, there were food cans, wrappers, nothing too telling but—“ 

You cock your head to the side, narrowing your eyes. Was I really that absentminded? You think, your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall as your breathing becomes heavier and deeper. James takes notice of your panic, and sits up from his slouched position. You look down at him, a heavy feeling of culpability hangs around you as he looks at you with wide eyes. 

“Listen, I’m not saying you can’t do patrol anymore… I– we don’t have to talk about this right now,” He says reassuringly. Silence follows as you gather your thoughts.

“Maybe, now that Joel’s back… maybe he can…” You test the idea quietly, letting your voice trail off and you look at James, watching his expression change into annoyance. He shakes his head, reaching out and grabbing your arm. You squirm out of his touch, shying away from him without thinking, causing him to roll his eyes. He shoots up from his sitting position, his quick movement makes you take a few steps backward until you're pressed up against the counter. His nose twitches as his eyes ignite with irritation. 

“ Okay , wow,” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now that he’s back, all of a sudden you don't want anything to do with me? I was gonna say I can start going out with you again now that we have more guards in command.” 

“What? No, it’s just–” You say, following with a short pause. “James, I missed something out on my watch– my watch– and it could’ve put the community at danger.”

“You sure it’s just that?” He cranks his head toward you, his eyes full of rage. “Not whatever Tommy and I just walked in on? You know people talk, Nora told me you came barreling in, looking for him. You know how many times the people at the radio tower told me you stopped by… askin’ if they heard anything from Joel?” 

“Oh, okay . You mean the same radio tower Aimee works at…who is notorious for stirring shit up just for the fun of it?” You lie straight through your teeth, slightly embarrassed he knows about that. James' expression quickly changes, melting under your anger. “And just to be clear, nothing was happening when you came in, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” 

“I– I–” He stutters, his posture becoming weak. “I didn’t mean it like that… I– just–”

“Drop it then,” You spit at him, he cowers, nodding his head in defeat. A feeling of guilt washes over you the moment the words come out of your mouth.

James shifts his position on the bench, now resting his elbows on his knees and letting his head hang; his hair covers his face not allowing you to see it. You let out a heavy sigh, slowly taking the few steps it takes to get over to him. He lifts his head up slightly, looking at you through his brows and thin strands of hair blocking his sad eyes. Hesitantly, you position yourself between his legs, forcing him to sit up straight. James lifts his hands, wrapping them around the back of our thighs ever so slightly. You don’t move, the feeling of his hands running down your thighs give you goosebumps. 

“ I’m sorry, ” You say softly, moving his hair out of his face. “I just feel horrible about–”

“No one's gonna blame you for what happened at the dam, I'll be sure of that, okay?” He cuts you off. “What were you supposed to do? You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so…” 

You slightly nod your head. What he doesn’t know is that I barely even remember sweeping the dam, you think, your breathing becoming heavy. You mindless fuck.

“I should probably go,” He changes the subject, standing up so the two of you are nearly chest to chest. “Are we meeting at Charles’ tonight, or should I drop by your house to get you?”

He brings his hand up to the back of your neck, smoothly rubbing the pad of his thumb along your skin, waiting for you to respond. You bite down on the inner part of your bottom lip. The thought of being anywhere but either alone or with Joel sounds unappealing.

“N–Nessa and I… we actually have plans for tonight,” You say slowly, lying right through your teeth. He’s staring down at you with innocent eyes, ones that are hard to look directly into. “We haven’t had a lot of one on one time, so…” 

You let your voice trail off, your nose twitching as you think about what you just said. His lips curl upward into a smile.

“Maybe I can stop by later then,” He laces one arm around you, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving. “Just let me know.”

You give him a quick nod. As soon as he leaves, you plop down in the spot he had just been sitting in and begin to zone out. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you softly mutter, bringing your hands up to your face.

–

The light in the kitchen is emitting a soft, dim glow, occasionally flickering. A low buzz stands out against the silence, matching the fuzzy feeling in your head. You sit slouched at the kitchen table, resting your elbows on the table with your arms extended outward. The guilt you’re feeling is sitting heavy in your chest; the guilt from how relieved you were to see Joel’s face and to simply hear his voice again, the guilt from how repulsed you felt when James walked into the trailer, the feeling of annoyance that came over you when he interrupted you and Joel. Then on top of all that, you lied to him. You lied about how you felt about Joel, you lied about the radio tower, you lied about your plans for tonight. You could have said anything, but you settled with plans with Nessa, a lie that could so easily be unraveled. 

You bring the tips of your index and middle finger up to your temples, slowly rubbing them in circles. How shameful, you think. The light flickers again, your eyes darting up to the single bulb. You stare into it for a little too long, causing your eyes to start to burn. James is a good guy, you think to yourself. He’s good to you, he was there when no one else was. You should want James.

You should want him, but it’s so painfully obvious that you don’t. You never wanted him to begin with, at least not in that way. But the longer Joel was gone, the harder it was to delay certain things from happening. And it felt good to be wanted, it felt good for someone to want to take care of you. You knew that made you a shitty person. You knew that stringing James along, not making your intentions completely known, would eventually get you into trouble. It just wasn’t until now you realized how bad this situation is going to turn out, likely losing someone who you genuinely considered to be a friend. 

The worst part is, it doesn't even matter if Joel doesn’t want you in that way; with him being back, you wouldn’t even want to entertain the idea of anyone else but him. This past year you thought you came to terms with what you felt for him, you thought your feelings were under control. At first, a part of you was hoping it was just some fleeting crush. His darkness, the mystery that was so apparent, his changing emotions, the uncertainty of what side you were going to get of him, it all drew you in. The kindness he showed you, that caught you by surprise, the night you met Nessa’s friends, the way he looked at you and the complexity in his eyes; it had an unfaltering grasp on your mind, body, and soul. Your so-called control completely went away the second you set foot into that trailer.

You desperately want to escape your thoughts, ignore them for one more day. There’s a bottle of dark rum snuggly tucked in the corner where the unused fridge meets the countertop. Tommy brought it over one night after a particularly hard day emotionally, and you kept it here for whenever he needed to escape, always welcoming him with open arms. Typically, alcohol wouldn’t be your go to for escaping, but this was a last ditch effort. You just wanted your mind to be clear and according to Tommy, alcohol is a great way to achieve that. 

Pulling yourself up from the table, you lazily walk over to the base of the counter, kicking off your boots that still remained on since your patrol this morning. You grab the bottle by its neck, swirling it and watching the liquids dance around the glass confines. You let out a heavy sigh, looking at the label, before reaching into one of the overhead cabinets and grabbing a glass. 

The harshness of the alcohol sits heavy on your tongue, your face twisting up as the liquid caresses your mouth; it burns as you force it down, clearing your throat after the initial swallow. The first sip is always the hardest , you think, forcibly exhaling through your nose. You throw your head back, downing what’s left in the glass in one big sip and slam it down on the table. You cough and saliva quickly begins to pool in your mouth. You go again, filling your glass half full, downing it all in one go, nearly gagging yourself to death before taking in another half glass full. 

A triple knock at your door causes you to screw eyes shut, letting out a deep sigh. James, you think, contemplating if you should open the door with the state you’re currently in. It was a poor excuse to tell him that you and Nessa had plans, you didn’t weigh the consequences in your head before telling that lie, but it just came out of your mouth with no thought. The chances of them running into each other were high enough as it is, and knowing James, he most definitely asked about what the two of you had planned for the night

Knock, knock, knock. You can see the dark shadow of a figure out on your porch slightly shifting their weight under their feet.

“Just a second,” you call out. Fuck, you mutter under your breath as you bring your hands up to your face for a quick moment and spring up from your seat. The wooden legs scrap against the floor, the sound makes you cringe. A rush comes over your head at the sudden movement, and you black out for a few seconds, leaving you grabbing at the back of the chair to steady yourself until your splotchy vision returns.

Hey James, I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone for the night… no, no… maybe just tell him you thought… you thought Nessa and you had plans tonight, but actually, you got the days mixed up, yeah that’s perfect, you think. Your stomach churns as you quickly approach the door, trying to perfect the deliverance of yet another lie. You quickly flip on the porch light as you turn the doorknob. 

“ I’m sorry, I just rea–” You begin to talk before the door is fully ajar, stopping mid greeting when you look up.

Joel is standing on your welcome mat. His hair combed back, still damp from the shower, and his beard has been trimmed nicely. The gash just above his eyebrow is still prominent but it’s been cleaned, butterfly stitches holding it together. You run your eyes down his body, the top few buttons on his shirt have been left undone, his chest hair peeking out. You can feel your lips part ever so slightly as you marvel at the man before you.

“Hope I’m not intrudin’,” he says, his voice sounds smooth. You shake your head, trying to pull yourself out of your daze.

“Not at all,” You breathlessly respond, swinging the door wide open. Joel enters as you turn to head back into the kitchen, flicking on more of the interior lights. The hinges let out a loud creak as he closes the door.

“Nights are startin’ to get cold again,” he initiates the conversation. “Won’t be long before it starts snowin’.” 

You’re not in the mood for any sort of small talk, completely ignoring what he just said.

“What happened out there today?” You turn to face him, looking at him inquisitively. “I cleared the dam, and then—“ 

“I know,” He cut you off, lingering in the wide cased opening that separates the living room and kitchen. Confusion overcomes you, dropping your gaze and staring at the toe of Joel’s mud clad boots. “I saw you.”

“You what?” You couldn’t process what he just said, a line forms between your eyebrows as you draw them together.

“I saw you walkin’ out of the main building–” He’s now slowly coming toward you, shrugging his brown jacket off of his arms and draping it over one of the kitchen chairs. “Once you were finished.” 

“You knew it was me?” You say, the kitchen light flickering again. Joel darts his eyes up at it, before looking back at you. 

“I could pick you out from anywhere,” He says barely above a whisper, moving on as soon as the words leave his lips. “I was on my way to the community, but when I saw you, I stayed back a bit behind the treeline.” 

“You didn’t think of coming out and saying something to me?” You sound somewhat angry, your reaction very obviously throwing him off. 

“You had a gun, didn’t know if you would remember me,” He says in his own defense.

“Remember you?” You shout. “You think I would forget you, after… after…” 

You don’t finish, resorting to silence. Joel doesn’t dare to say anything either, just clearing his throat awkwardly in response.

“I thought…” Joel gestures to the bottle of the alcohol on the table as he pulls out a chair— his usual chair– and takes a seat.

“Things change,” You remain standing, leaning up against the kitchen counter with your arms crossed. “You want some?”

Joel responds with a single now, leaning back in the chair. You let your eyes linger on him for a few seconds before turning and opening a cabinet, retrieving a small, short glass. You set it down in front of him, clumsily leaning over him and grabbing the bottle of alcohol and your glass. You catch his eyes as you wrap your fingers around the neck of the bottle, your faces now only a few inches apart. Sorry, you mutter under your breath. His throat bobs as he gulps, darting his eyes off to the side. 

“There was a group of men, three of ‘em,” Joel says as you pull back, connecting the rims of the glass and the bottle, and you begin to pour his drink first. “They came in from behind me— that’s good— not long after you left.” 

“And you got all three?” You say somewhat sarcastically in disbelief, setting the bottle back down on the table a little harder than you meant to. He nods as he brings the glass up to his lips, his nose twitching at the strong aroma of the alcohol. “By yourself?”

“You don’t know me very well if you are questioning if I could do it by myself, darlin’, ” He almost instantly follows up to your skepticism, his lips slightly curling upward.

A small smile forms on your face, one that you try to hide by tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth. His use of darlin’ makes your stomach lurch, the feeling immediately pulling you out of your pissy mood. Joel steadily watches you as you take the seat adjacent to him, very obviously pulling the chair a bit closer to him. 

“So, what’s got you drinkin’?” His voice sounds sincere.

“Oh—“ As you go to say some bullshit answer, a figure outside the window comes into view and you switch your focus from Joel to the person at the end of the pathway leading up to your house. The porch light barely expands out far enough for you to see who it is– James. In one hand he is holding a tupperware container, the other is tucked in the pocket of his dark blue hoodie. He flashes you a smile as you two make eye contact. You can feel your entire face drop. Joel quickly catches on to your shift in focus and turns slightly in his chair, looking over his shoulder out of the window. James’ smile quickly fades as Joel leans into his view. You avert your attention down to the wooden grain of the table, not watching to see his full reaction. You had this coming , you think. 

“Oh, should I go?” Joel begins to half stand up from his chair. 

“No,” You immediately shake your head, James is still staring at you through the window at a standstill. 

He must have seen you shake your head, seeing you mouth the word no to Joel, because he slowly backpedals, a look of anger plastered on his face, and turns around, heading away from your house. Joel takes his seat again, taking a smooth, long drag at the remaining liquid in his glass, slowly setting it down on the table. You and Joel exchange looks to one another, he flashes you a slight smile, disappearing just as fast as it appeared. With tongue in cheek, you squeeze your hands around the cool surface of your empty glass, becoming lost in thought. 

You’ve made your decision, not caring at what or who’s expense.

You choose Joel.

read chapter thirteen here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

[cepheusgalaxy]

Everybody!

Just sit down and listen because my The Sun And The Star book just arrived yesterday and I just finished it so you guys are gonna hear me freaking out about this

So,

Nico and Will 😏

Oh, well, my dad bought TSATS in july (because portuguese version was just ready this month while for you guys it was up on may) and it arrived at thursday. And then! when I came home from school I just found it here at the table, my dad gladly smilling for me like "yo here's the book you were freaking out about last month" and I just freaked out some more.

I startes to read it and oh dam

I need to say I loved the concept

And the implications

"You cannot cut your past off, but it's a part of you"

And also "There's no light without darkness, just as there's no darkness without light"

I loved it because was also a golden key to nico's character arc

He dealt with really bad stuff in this book

And ofc character's bad stuff is good stuff for us

But really,

All his demons were shown for everybody to see in this book (like, literally, and i loved this part), and Will was at his side all time.

I loved this too: Nico and Will's relationship has no problems at all, but their understanding of each other was so limited. Will saw Nico's darkness as a bad thing, a thing he had to heal from. And Nico tried to flinch away everytime someone tried to help him, we already knew that.

And then their values were crushed off

Will learns about darkness; about the dephts of the Bad Things; about Nico; about how not everything related to the dark is bad

And Nico learns about himself; about his needs; about his motives; about his strenghts; about his heart and about his health

And really

I think it was a particulary Hot TakeTM that the Percy Jacksom fandom just shouted and pleaded "NICO DI ANGELO!" and rick riorsan gave us fucking nico di angelo

And also

(the quote may be not accurte here because again, my version is portuguese's, and im having to translate it here)

"Will let the anger power him and searched inside himself for darkness. He knew loneliness, like the nights he spent in the corner of a show house while his mother sing for the crowd. He had felt fear. He had felt envy. He was son of Apollo and, because of that, with all his feelings flowing, Will focused on his dad's power and did something he has never did in his entire life.

He gave his enemy an allergic rhinitis attack"

THIS HAD ME LAUGHING SO HARD MY BROTHER STOPED PLAYING ROBLOX AND ASKED ME "ARE U OKAY"

The first page also just MADE MY HEART MELT

And their stories for Gorgyra appearing beetwen one chapter and another just had me--

I LITERALLY READ THE FIRST PAGE ONCE AGAIN AFTER FINISHING THE LAST PAGE

here, have a photo

So yea, i loved it ❤

[bbybaku]

can you do more BNHA college boyfriend content? I really loved the Shigaraki one (sorry, english is not my first language)

anything for you anon

(also youre english is perfect and so are you)

def gonna make this 2 parts lolol

mha college bf head cannons

shinso

sfw 

probably majoring in something finance related 

wants to take care of you 

as in you two go shopping like every other weekend

has a ton of money from investing in crypto currency and getting lucky 

yall also go out to eat all the time 

and not like fast food like nice sit down places

you two spoon constantly 

like sleeping face to face limbs intertwined

he loves to sit with his head between your legs while watching tv

or when you two are laying down and you hold his head into your chest and hee holds your hips

you both have apartments but he likes yours because its better deccorated than his

has an amazing taste in music 

makes you playlists all the time 

uses old spice deodorant

mr hitoshi is a man who always smells good 

has amazing hygene 

you talked him into growing his hair out

now hes always asking you to play with it  

is very good at school without even trying

which drives you crazy because he always talks you out of studying 

scares off a lot of people with his scary features

which makes his insecure and needed a lot of reassureance at the start of your relationship. 

but these days he owns your ass 

nsfw 

tpyically a soft dom

is huge 

took you a while to get used to how big he is 

likes to put you in stressful situations just so he can reassure you

“shhhh hey its okay im here” 

“this will stop if you use the safe word, hmm oh whats that you want to keep going?” 

“good girl” 

stressfull situations as in he over stimulates you every god dam time. 

nothing makes him harder than you crying from pleasure 

he spoils you

once spent $200 on toys just for you because he was going out of town for a week 

his gifts for you do come with a cost

shinso goes ferral for blowjobs

and he wants them all the time 

you have def given head in an alarming amount of public restrooms 

very into roleplay

almost jizzed his pants when you put on cat ears once 

same thing when you bought a maid outfit 

in case you were wondering, yes his pubes are purple too. 

sex playlist 

homeboy loves period sex

is very into aftercare

like reads womens magazines about it 

has a sexy voice and knows it

has a mirror in front of his bed because its all about eye contact 

definition of intamacy with this man 

knows how to treat his partner 

aizawa 

the thing about aizawa is he isnt your boyfriend he is your husband 

probaby in grad school for like english 

so a lil older 

but thats okay 

he makes up for it in being hot 

and he has cats 

with very obscure names like katsu and mochi 

since he was older he invited you to live with him 

you said yes of course 

the cats liked you right away 

apartment full of books and windows 

shouta drank wine almost every night 

would grade papers for the class he assisted in 

loved holding hands everywhere 

not the biggester spooner 

but would hold you really close on the couch while you two watched films while wine drunk 

he was an introvert so you two spent most nights in 

and when you two did go out it was always something interesting 

like trivia night, or seeing a band play, or going to a dinner party

was the kind of boyfriend who was really good at co existing with you 

like what is awkward silence 

the vibe is just so positive 

and you two are so comfortable with each other

nsfw 

mr aizawa is a kinky mf behind the scenes

he does not have sex he fucks

very good with ropes 

loved controlling you 

could fuck all day 

like man had stamina 

when you two went out to dinner he would push your underwear to the side finger you under the table 

and whisper other times hes humiliated you while you squirmed under his grip  

gotta call him daddy

or sir

or master

he is the type to tie you up with your arms behind your back and put a vibrator on your clit then just disappear for an hour

also big on choking

like real big on choking

he’ll just rest his hand on your throat while you two are doing mundane thing

also asserts dominance constantly

like holding your hips at the grocery store

kissing you in a crowded place

extremely possessive

probably has a few paddles

likes to spank

really likes to brat tame

you say “make me” and you are in for a wild night

man will wear rings when he fucks you

fingers you

and chokes you

you usually come first

unless you’ve been bad

then aizawa will edge you for hours

bakugou

sfw

the definition of “i hate everyone but you”

like once you figured out how to communicate with him

best bf ever

history major

lives in a house with like 6 of his friends

but don’t worry he has his own room

always at the gym

since he’s very muscular he rarely wears a shirt when you two hang out

and he always wants you to lay on top of him

like imagine him being the ceo of picking you up and throwing you on the bed

then jumping on you

kisses. bakugo would want to make out a lot

very temperamental

like if he’s hungry or sleepy or too hot he will snap at you

but you know by now not to take it personally

also would have a ton of funny nicknames for you

examples : headass, stinky, the first letter of your name or ugly

but he would say it in a loving way

❤️ hey ugly❤️

you loved his friends

didn’t know how he scored them with how mean he was

you two spent a ton of time just lounging in his bed

liked to play fight

and bicker

really liked deep convos too like he would push you to think harder and tell him more about yourself

he didn’t say it a lot but he really liked you

nsfw

katsuki bakugou is an ass man.

big dick energy

he’s the type who wanted you to ride him all the time

but he would be in control when you rode him like death grip on your hips

he also liked to hit if from the back

likes to slam into you

the way you jiggled made him harder

not the type to hold in his grunts and moans made a lot of noise during sex

his roomates hated you guys for how loud you were

def likes his girls a lil chubby

grabbed your ass every chance he had

found porn stars that look like yours make jerking off more fun

loves fingering you.

also big degrader

you two had a lot of angry sex and a lot of make up sex

got real cranky when he was horny and couldn’t have you

took videos of you during sex to rewatch later

you got so turned on when he snapped at you

it drove him nuts

basically you two fucked a lot lol

masterlist

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Warning: implied past non-con, present fear of non-con, mentions of abuse & torture & dehumanization.

"Come here, sweet thing." - Whumper said, lying in bed and lifting the blankets, mentioning for Whumpee to join them.

The pet looked up from their spot in the corner, where their dog bed was. They were confused at first, but as their eyes landed on their Master and the order registered in their head, their entire body tensed up. They began shaking harder than their owner had ever seen anyone do, terror shining in their eyes as they forced themself to walk over, breath stuttering with every step.

The whumpee's thoughts drifted to the not-so-distant past, just a few weeks ago, before Master had bought them, when they were still being prepared to be sold, being taught by Trainer.

Tears spilled down their cheeks like burst river dams, memory returning to the unwanted touch, the hands grabbing body parts they shouldn't. Their thighs quivered on reflex, and phantom feelings of their trainer spreading their legs made their insides clench.

But still, they willed themself to crawl onto the sickeningly soft mattress, knowing the cost of disobedience but avoiding eye contact all the while, too petrified to see their Master's face. The whumper waited patiently until their pet had laid down next to them and then carefully wrapped an arm around them, holding them close.

Whumpee buried their face in their owner's chest, desperately trying and failing to compose themself. A sob slipped past their lips involuntarily as Whumper pressed a soft kiss to their forehead and began gently petting their head. "It's okay, sweet thing. I won't touch you like they did."

Whumpee shuddered, clearly aware of what their Master was referring to. The whumper did their best to help the poor thing relax and doze off, adoring their tiny frame clinging to them desperately. They weren't that cruel.

Sure, their pet was below them and was supposed to serve them just like the rest of the servants that called Whumper's manor their home, but even the whumper had lines they wouldn't cross. True, they loved it when those skilled plump lips wrapped around them and sucked them off, but straight up fucking Whumpee? That was going too far in their book.

In Whumper's eyes, their servants were worth a lot less than them, their Master, but they were still humans, capable of feeling things just like them. So, using their servants in such ways had always felt pathetic to them.

It was as if they couldn't obtain such pleasures through their own charms and skills alone, as if they had to stoop so low as to force someone they owned to submit to them.

Ridiculous.

There was a reason why all of the whumper's servants quickly warmed up to them. Yes, they gave them a slap or two every once in a while and forced them to kneel and beg for forgiveness in extreme cases of misbehavior, but Whumper also wasn't breaking their fucking bones like a maniac.

Their servants weren't stupid. They all realized just how good they had it there after just a few days of being bought and followed orders without a hitch soon after. Of course, occasional accidents happened: dropping something, talking back, or muttering something under their breath, but a quick slap to the face or the back of their head reminded the servants of their place.

So far, Whumpee was taking the longest to settle down. It's been about a week and a half now. They were still quite jumpy, but progress had also been made. Whumper always made sure to praise them, especially when their pet was servicing them more intimately.

They called them good and gently caressed their head. They always rewarded the whumpee with alone time afterward, telling them they deserved some rest, letting them do pretty much whatever they wanted.

Sometimes their pet would take a nap in their dog bed, cuddled up in the blanket their Master had rewarded them with on their first day. Other times they would roam the building and perhaps visit the garden if they felt brave enough to step outside.

Whumpee was specifically a pet, different from the other servants. Even if many of them had been bought as pets, Whumper had reassigned them to servants, had given them chores and things to take care of around the massive house.

But the whumpee? Their only job was to please their owner, to come to cuddle with them if they had a shit day, or maybe suck them off if the whumper was in the mood. When Whumper was busy or didn't need them around, they could basically do whatever.

And in return for that good servitude and behavior, their Master spoiled them rotten. They let Whumpee sleep on the bed with them, gave them the gentle touch and affection they definitely hadn't gotten in the past couple of few years, shared their own food with them that the other servants could only dream of tasting.

And today was the first time that the whumper had called their pet onto the bed. It was a test of sorts, they wanted to see how the whumpee would react, and while clearly stressed the fuck out and terrified, they still obeyed, to their owner's pleasant surprise.

And to Whumper's further delight, they fell asleep rather quickly, loosening up, letting their Master pet their head and admire how cute they looked. They did very well, and the whumper needed to remember to reward them in the morning.

But also, it would probably be best not to do this again for a couple of days and allow Whumpee to ease down. After all, the goal was for their pet to genuinely grow to like them, to enjoy serving them just like the other servants.

The point wasn't to constantly stress them out. To scream and break. It was to teach and praise. To encourage good behavior and reward it.

[messers-moony]

Hope | R.L

Paring: Remus Lupin X Wife!Potter!Reader

Summary: Life is unfair in numerous ways but it seems like it’s out to get the Potters in every way shape and form.

A part of growing up means maturing. Maturing means realizing that the world is cruel and unfair. People die every day without a reason or a why. Children are born into this world every day with love or hatred. Growing up, parents tell their kids, “Life isn’t fair”. No one had experience unfairness like Y/n Potter and Remus Lupin.

He was right there. So close, only a few feet from her arms yet so far apart in that wretched woman’s arms who held him like he was the grossest thing she’s ever touched. Those enchanting green eyes that glistened with trauma and pain. The brown hair that started to sprout from his scalp, already messy and untidy.

“No! This isn’t fair!” Y/n wailed as Remus held her tight to his chest, “I’m his biological aunt! Please!”

The Minister of Magic was merciless, “And so is Mrs.Dursley.”

“She’s a muggle! Harry is bound to be a wizard!” Y/n cried in contradiction; the feeling to vomit became relentless, “They’ll torture him. Please, you have to let me have him.”

“With your current living situation, it isn’t safe, Mrs.Lupin.”

Remus grimaced at those words, “My current living situation? Are you daft!?”

“With Mr.Lupins…” The Minister pondered, “condition, it isn’t safe for him.”

“Remus wouldn’t hurt him.” Y/n sobbed quietly, “He’s never hurt me!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Lupin, but Harry Potter is the safest with Mrs. and Mr. Dursley.”

The gavel was hit upon another circle of wood, adjourning the meeting as a finality. This was it. The fight was over. Harry Potter would grow up in an unloving household that wouldn’t be capable of understanding his magic. This was the epitome of unfairness. Remus’ hands were on her waist, her back to his chest while she sobbed, trying to get him to release her.

Eventually, she collapsed to a heap on the floor. Petunia and Vernon, each holding a baby watching the couple. Harry was wailing loudly, and Petunia couldn’t get him to settle down, making Y/n only cry harder. The young boy had just begun babbling nonsense due to Sirius’ hard effort to get him to say “Padfoot”. But it was that day he said his first word.

“Moo-me!” Harry yelped, and Remus could’ve sworn his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, “Moo-me!”

The brunet boy was trying to reach for Remus, and he squirmed for the adult male, but Petunia had a tight grip. Y/n could barely hear the little boy's words over her own sobs. Her body ached and shook with every tear that fell. The silver streams stained her cheeks, and her face was a brilliant rose red.

“Please make it stop….” Y/n muttered as Remus covered her from the other four people in the room, “If he says that one more time, I might not be able to handle it. Remus, help me, please.”

Hearing her so desperate broke his heart more. Remus’ body covered hers entirely in their crouched position. Harry was practically attacking Petunia to let him go, to be in the arms that are familiar to him. He didn’t like this. He didn’t know these people. These people weren’t his parents. Where was daddy? Where was mummy? Where was uncle Sirius and Peter?

What he did know was his aunt and uncle were right in front of him. Uncle Moony and Aunt Y/n. He could feel his aunt's sadness, her frustration, her anger. He could sense his uncle's remorse, desperation, and hopelessness. Why were they feeling this way? Why weren’t they protecting him? Harry so desperately wished he could speak and say, “Help! Save me from these strangers!” But all he could get out was “Moo-mee and Tee” for Moony and Auntie.

Petunia couldn’t handle his squirming any longer and allowed him on the floor. Harry was ecstatic with this new change. The boy crawled to the two adults on the floor. Harry could feel the warmth of their bodies before he tugged at his aunt's sleeve. Harry stared into her e/c irises and his uncle's green eyes. Those eyes he’d remember forever, engraved in his memory to never forget. His aunt collected him into her arms. His head pressed to her chest. Harry’s sobs calmed, now in the arms of familiarity.

The scent of chocolate, ink, and books surrounded him. His nose was barely catching the smell due to it being runny from crying. Petunia and Vernon approached them. Remus was hugging his wife and his best friend's son, protecting them from the outside world. Gently Y/n pulled Harry from her chest, leaving him to stare at his aunt and uncle.

Y/n sniffled and wiped his tears from his cheeks like mum used to do, “Harry, I promise you, I really don’t want to do this.”

His head tilted in confusion as Y/n’s eyes filled with tears again, “I’ll come back for you. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

“If he’s anything like Prongs, he’ll always have hope.” Remus commented, making Y/n smile.

“That’s what daddy used to do to mummy when she was sad,” Harry thought, “he used to say something to make her smile.”

Despite the soft smile on her face, she had wet trails on her cheeks, “I love you, Harry.”

Y/n kissed his forehead where the lightning scar was placed—hugging him one more time and Remus doing the same as his wife. Harry didn’t understand. Where was he going? Why was auntie Y/n letting him go? Why weren’t they taking him home? Where was mummy and daddy?! So he began to wail again. Petunia picked him up, and the family of four now started to walk out of the room.

She couldn’t even cry anymore. The water that once flowed down her cheeks had stopped. The dam had broken but no longer had water to give. Y/n turned to put her face harshly in Remus’ chest. His arms raked through her hair and rubbed her back. Silent tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, reaching his jawline and falling into Y/n’s hair.

“That was-“ Y/n hiccuped, “the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“I know, darling.” Remus whispered, “He’s got James’ spirit, and that means he won’t lose hope. He’s got Lily’s kindness. Harry will be fine.”

Y/n shook her head, “That’s not the point. He should be with me. Not that horrid woman.”

“I know. But you and I will get through this.” Remus assured, tilting her head to face him, “We’ve gotten through everything else. We can get through this too.”

Solemnly, Y/n nodded. Remus placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. The room was precise and silent, aside from Y/n’s hiccups. The clicking of a clock could be heard echoing throughout the room. Usually, the sound would bring a sense of solace to Remus but right now, it was a constant reminder that time had gone by. James and Lily were no longer with him. Sirius had betrayed them all, and Peter was dead. Godric, how could this all happen?

Remus flicked his wand from his pocket, apparating them back to their residence. Inside it was cozy and warm. Remus took off Y/n’s coat along with his own as she took a seat on the leather couch. She grabbed her wand, muttering an “Incendio” to start a fire in the fireplace. Her body was curled up, and Remus placed a blanket over her while he went to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a pale blue with dark oak flooring. The marble countertops and dark cabinets. A brilliant contrast. He could almost hear James’ laugh from when they were painting it together while also hearing Lily and Y/n’s scolding them for making a big mess. It brought an emptiness to his heart, but he filled the kettle with water, allowing it to boil on the water.

Inside the cabinets laid an assortment of tea. Something James and Lily had bought him as a joke. Remus always made tea no matter the occasion. It was so him. James had seen it at a muggle store Lily had brought him for. He had been dying of laughter in the store just thinking about it. It got laughs around the Christmas tree when Remus unwrapped the decorative paper.

Remus grabbed a tea bag for himself while grabbing cocoa powder from the same cabinet and two mugs from their wedding night. The kettle began making a high pitch noise, and Remus poured the water into both mugs. Placing the tea bag in one cup and a couple of scoops of cocoa powder in the other, mixing them both, adding marshmallows to the hot chocolate and whipped cream. He added honey to his tea.

Mugs in hand, Remus walked to the living room. He placed the cups on the coffee table. Coaxing Y/n to sit up and he set the mug in her hand as she sipped it carefully, not to burn her mouth. Y/n leaned her head on Remus’ shoulder, still holding her mug with both hands. The blanket draped across their laps. Remus had the cup in his right hand, his left arm draped around her shoulders, the pad of his thumb rubbing her shoulder.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Rem.”

The holidays were hard. Almost too hard for Y/n and Remus to celebrate. But despite their pain, they decorated their house with garland, lights, and knickknacks. The Christmas tree sat in the right of their living room, covered in the beautiful colorful lights. Placed upon the tree were ornaments and tiny pieces of tinsel. Beneath the tree held presents for each other and a little boy.

Y/n stood in front of the tree, staring at it with a longing look. Remus walked behind her, putting his arms around her neck gently. Y/n’s hands instinctively reached for his bicep, rubbing it gently. Remus kissed her cheek and placed his head on top of hers.

“I wanna visit him.”

“Okay.”

Y/n turned to face him, “Okay?”

“What am I gonna tell you?” Remus joked, “No?”

“No. I just- I didn’t expect you to agree so fast.” Y/n replied, and Remus cupped her cheek, “He’s your nephew too. You have a right to see him.”

She smiled, “Yeah, you’re right.”

He kissed her forehead, “First Christmas without them….”

“I know.” Y/n said sadly, “It feels strange not to have James jumping around like a child.”

“It feels not having Lily in the kitchen trying to make your mums mince pies.”

Y/n chuckled, “She never got to master them.”

“Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure she’s up there trying.” Remus replied, smiling, “You think Peter is trying to steal the batter?” Y/n asked.

“Oh, definitely!” Remus exclaimed, smiling more than he had in months, “That bugger always used to Nick my chocolate at Hogwarts.”

“I dunno how he found my stash every time.”

The couple placed their foreheads on each other’s, closing their eyes, “We miss you, James and Lily.”

“We miss you more than ever.”

Y/n sighed, “I love you guys.”

Christmas morning was dull compared to their regular routine. Y/n was used to having James jump on top of her every Christmas so they can wake up their parents and open presents. Instead, she was woken up with kisses being placed on her neck and shoulder. Y/n turned and was faced with the sleepy face of her husband.

His sandy hair ruffled and on top of the white pillow. Green eyes glazed with a film of sleep. His lips pulled up in an effortless gentle smile. The scars on his face were whiter instead of their usual pale pink. His stubble was growing into full facial hair due to his lack of shaving. Y/n let her hand cup his right cheek, her thumb rubbing his cheekbone.

“You need to shave.”

Remus chuckled, “It’s Christmas, and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“Merry Christmas, you need to shave?” Y/n corrected with a smile, making him laugh, “Merry Christmas, darling.”

They shared a soft and gentle kiss. His lips taking her bottom one, hers taking his top one. Soft and slow. Gentle and sweet. Pulling apart, their eyes fluttered, focusing on one another. Her eyes were so beautiful. Looking into her eyes, Remus could read an endless amount of stories. The gorgeous e/c. His eyes were evergreen. Holding so much love and adoration. She could read him like a book through his eyes.

Christmas meant eating a good meal and sharing kisses beneath the mistletoe. The couple opened each other’s presents. Y/n earning new books and some of Remus’ old sweaters that she thought he threw away. The last item she received was a maroon and gold jersey. It was her brother's Quidditch Captain jersey from when he played. Remus must’ve found it in the wreckage at Godric’s Hallow.

Remus opened his presents, getting ink, quills, notebooks, and books of his own. Since Remus couldn’t work, he always dreamed of writing a book. At Hogwarts, Remus excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he wanted to write a nonbias textbook for it. Y/n always encouraged his dreams and goals. If anyone could do it, it was him.

Left under the tree were three wrapped boxes meant for the little boy. Remus grabbed a tote bag and placed them inside of it. Y/n gripped his hand tightly as they apparated to Privet Drive. They began walking down the street, sweaters on in the snow, while she grabbed his hand tighter.

“What if- What if he doesn’t recognize me?”

“Y/n, he couldn’t forget you.” Remus assured as they stood outside house four.

Gently Y/n knocked on the door. It was oak wood, and the house appeared to be at least two stories. Remus kept his hand intertwined with hers as his other held the bag with the boy's presents. Footsteps could be heard walking towards the door. Petunia had opened it to be faced with two young adults.

“Mrs. Dursley.” Remus greeted curtly, “May we see Harry?”

Petunia began to ponder and saw the bag of presents in the man's hand, “Sure.”

The woman walked into the hallway and unlocked the cupboard under the stairs. Harry was coaxed out of the storage space, and he turned to the left, where he saw his uncle and aunt. The boy's lips curved into a great big smile. Harry ran into the arms of his aunt, hugging her tightly.

“Auntie!”

Her heart melted, “Hey, mini Prongs.”

Harry turned the male beside her, “Moony!”

Remus wrapped his arms around the little boy and picked him up as they walked inside. The three of them sat in the foyer on the floor. Harry sat between Y/n’s legs, his back to her stomach as Remus sat in front of him. Gently Remus disposed of the bag and placed the presents in front of him.

“Go on, Harry. These are for you from Moony and Auntie.” Remus cooed, and Harry grabbed one, gently ripping the wrapping off.

Inside was a baby stag stuffed animal, which Harry hugged close to his chest, “Your dad's favorite animal was a stag. Thought you might want something to remember him by.” Remus stated, smiling sheepishly.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, daddy.” Y/n replied as Harry smiled up at her.

“Go on. There’s two more for you, baby.” Y/n pointed at the other two boxes, and Harry began unwrapping another.

This was a tinier box, and inside were golden glasses, “You don’t need these just yet, but these were your fathers. I wanted them to be yours.” Y/n informed him as he placed them on top of his nose.

The final box was mini-figures that Harry could play with in his spare time, which he seemed more than grateful for. Harry was giggling and laughing, happy with all his presents. The boy turned in Y/n’s lap, hugging her as tight as he could. Y/n’s hand rested on his back, and she gently kissed his forehead.

“I love you, Harry. Don’t forget that.”

“‘Ove you too.” Harry replied, having a hard time pronouncing words.

Next, he hugged Remus, who did the same. He didn’t want to leave Remus’ arms. He always ran hotter than the everyday person. Remus was a personal furnace. It makes sense why a cold young boy didn’t want to let go of the man. Within minutes the young boy was asleep in Remus’ arms.

Petunia came into the hallway an hour later to see Harry soundly asleep in the man's arms, “Excuse me, but I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/n took Harry from Remus’ arms and gave him to Petunia, “Thank you for letting us see him.”

Petunia took the boy from Y/n’s arms, “Yes.”

She put the boy in his bed under the cupboard, making Y/n frown at his living situation, “Do you- Do you think that Harry could stay with us some weekends?”

“No.”

“Oh, okay.” Y/n muttered, “Thank you again, but we must’ve overstayed our welcome.”

“Of course.”

Y/n took Remus’ hand as they walked out of the house. They walked to a safe spot to apparate back home. They both took off their coats and placed them on the coat rack. Y/n went to turn on a movie on their television set while Remus made hot chocolate and snacks. Both of them curled up onto the sofa and fell asleep.

Over the course of the next nine years, Harry has been visited by his aunt and uncle on many different occasions. Birthdays, Christmas’s, Valentine’s Day, Halloween, and sometimes just randomly, but he always looked forward to seeing them. Every time without fail, Harry would always jump in Y/n’s arms no matter how old he got.

The warmth and feeling of being safe in her arms brought a sense of comfort no one seemed compared to. She felt like daddy. His radiate smile, his incredibly warm body, the smoothness of her voice, the glitter in her eyes, her untied hair. Auntie Y/n felt like James. But no matter how hard he tried, she never was dad exactly, but she was auntie. Y/n was his dad's sister, and for now, that’d have to do.

Of course, uncle Moony felt the same. But there were some days he didn’t show up, much to Harry’s displeasure. Harry loved sleeping in Remus’ arms when he was a young toddler. The chocolate, ink, and parchment smell always filled his sensitive nose with such a safe feeling. Harry’s favorite time of year was Christmas when Petunia would make hot cocoa, filling the room with its sweet sense. Although he never got a cup of it himself, the smell brought a sense of comfort. As if uncle Moony was embracing him tightly on all sides.

When Harry reached eleven, owls began delivering envelopes to Privet Drive number Four. But it seems that uncle Vernon refused to let him open any of them. He did whatever he had to, blocking the mail slot in the door, burning the letters, even going as extreme to leave the house. Where inevitably Hagrid - gamekeeper - at Hogwarts came to retrieve him and give him the letter.

He couldn’t believe it. He was a wizard! All this time being belittled by Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley, he finally felt special aside from those times with his other family. Harry had a chance to prove himself to be great. To prove himself that he wasn’t just a bug on the ground to be stepped on. Only one thought crossed his mind though.

“I can’t wait to tell aunt Y/n and uncle Moony.”

[nightingaelic]

Companions reacting to the couriers birthday

Thanks for the lighthearted one, anon, lately I've been getting some super plot-heavy, game mechanics-heavy or just plain heavy requests, so a birthday is just what the doctor ordered 🎂 Also a happy birthday to @profess0rjam!

The courier had been acting a little strange. They slept in for once, something that had hardly happened since the mess at the dam. They seemed like they weren't paying attention to anything around them, even though Freeside was in rare form that day with caravan traders, pickpockets and children hunting rats all over the place. It wasn't until the courier tripped over a crate of barrel cactus fruit outside a farmer's trading stand and had to apologize by buying all of the bruised produce that their companion finally turned a questioning eye on them.

The courier looked down at the armful of fruit they had acquired and sighed. "Remember when we went through Primm last month? I stopped in at the Mojave Express branch there, and Johnson told me he got those records in from the Hub. Most of it was stuff I already knew- height, weight, eye color, hair color, shoe size for some reason... but they also had my birth date. It's today."

Arcade Gannon: "Whoa." Arcade straightened his glasses. "Uh... happy birthday. How do you feel?"

The courier looked from side to side and shrugged. "I don't know. I don't feel any different. Is that normal?"

"Um... yeah?" Arcade chuckled nervously. "I mean, you know you're a year older, but it's not like a switch gets turned on or off. You were still getting older even when you didn't know when your birthday was, Six."

"Yeah, but now it's... marked," the courier replied, wrinkling their nose. "Like when Mr. New Vegas talks about me on the radio. I feel weirder about his news bulletins than I do while I'm actually out doing the things he reports on."

"Well, you're alone on that one, Six," Arcade said with a hint of jealousy in his voice. "Not everyone can attract that DJ's attention the way you do. Then again, if I ever wind up on the radio, it probably won't be good news for me."

He patted the courier on the shoulder reassuringly. "Come on. Let's get rid of the cacti fruit and head to the Atomic Wrangler to celebrate. I'll buy you a drink."

Craig Boone: "Did their records tell you anything else?" Boone asked.

"Uh... no," the courier replied. "Well, a couple of things, actually. They kept track of most of my trips when they first hired me. I've been all over the place, apparently: Circle Junction, Fort Abandon, around the Big Circle a few times, even Utah. They also wrote down that I refused to tell them where I came from, so no new info there."

"Mmm-hm." Boone frowned. "It's a start, for sure. Maybe you can retrace your steps, someday."

"Yeah." The courier picked a piece of fruit and held it up, inspecting its color. "We should do something fun tonight. Celebrate."

Boone cracked a rare smile. "For your birthday? Sure."

"Want to go see a show at the Tops with me? I think the Lonesome Drifter is playing the Aces again. Maybe we can catch him after for a drink, ask him about his travels."

Boone moved to accept a few of the cactus fruit and lighten their load. "Sounds good to me."

Lily Bowen: "Well isn't that just grand," Lily said with a smile. "How old are you turning, dearie?"

The courier made a face and giggled. "How old are you, Lily?"

"A lady never reveals her age," Lily answered primly. "Point taken, pumpkin. You should walk that fruit home to the icebox while Grandma gets going on her shopping list."

"Shopping list?"

Lily nodded. "Of course. Flour, eggs, butter, sugar, and a few other things."

The courier gave her a sly look. "What are you up to, Lily?"

"It's your birthday, dearie!" Lily replied, seizing them and the fruit they were carrying in a hug. "We have to bake a cake!"

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul grinned. "Feliz cumpleaños, Six. Happy birthday."

The courier looked back at him with frustrated helplessness in their eyes. "What am I supposed to do with that information? What do people do for their birthdays?"

"Well, it's a bit different now than it used to be," Raul answered, scratching his bald head. "But back in my day, we threw a little party if we had the time and money. Some years were better than others, and some were bigger milestones. In my experience, once you got past 18 there wasn't much left to celebrate except staying alive for another year. Or if you were en los Estados Unidos, 21."

"Okay." The courier nodded, then kept nodding. "Okay. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sí."

They dumped the armful of fruit into his hands. "Take those to the Old Mormon Fort and pass them out to anyone who looks hungry. I need to track down some friends and see what they're doing tonight."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "It's your birthday?!?" Cass was positively beaming. "Well shit, Six. Could've told me sooner, and I'd have planned some kind of surprise."

"Eh-heh." The courier looked sheepish. "That's what I was afraid of."

"What?" Cass put her hands on her hips. "I didn't think my surprises were that bad."

"No, no, it's not that," the courier reassured her. "It's me. You know what I do, what I've been up to. I wasn't sure I'd... I have a lot of enemies, Cass!"

"Ohhhhh, I get it." Cass threw an arm around their shoulder and steered them through the Freeside marketplace. "You weren't sure you'd make it to today, so you didn't say anything. Gotcha."

"And I'd feel like crap if I told you my birthday was coming up, and then I bit the dust after you'd already bought me a present or something," the courier added.

"Pffft." Cass waved their concerns away. "I'd just give that present to myself, then. Don't let the ones gunning for you dictate how you live your life, Six. Now come on, let's pick out something new and shiny for your gun cabinet up in the Lucky 38. My treat."

Veronica Santangelo: "Six!" Veronica squealed and did a little dance. "Happy birthday! Oh my goodness, there's so much to do, we need to round everybody up, we need to go book a table at the Gourmand, we need to-"

She stopped when she caught the courier biting their lip. "Orrrr we could not do any of that. Whatever you like, it's your birthday."

"Can we just... I don't know." The courier shuffled their feet in the dust. "My life has been kind of crazy lately, and the people on the Strip won't leave me alone if I show my face in one of the casinos. I went up to the cocktail lounge in the Lucky 38 last night and pushed some tables together. I think we can fit everyone, even if the Securitrons will have to squeeze around us to serve drinks."

Veronica's smile returned. "Okay. Yeah, that'll work. But I don't know what kind of food House has in his pantry, nowadays."

The courier answered by holding the cactus fruit up. "This'll help."

"That's not nearly enough." Veronica looked around the marketplace. "Stay put. I'm going to go find some of those kids chasing rats. They'll probably help us carry some groceries back to the Lucky 38 for a few caps."

ED-E: The courier's eyebot bobbed and beeped quizzically, as if unfamiliar with the term.

"Um, how do I..." The courier wracked their brains. "Today is the anniversary of my... creation. My assembly."

ED-E blipped a few times in quick succession, surprised.

"No, no, that's not- no." The courier shook their head. "How do you know what that is, but not understand what a birthday is? Today is the day I came out of my mom, ED-E."

The eyebot blatted understanding and disgust, as if displeased with the mechanics of biology. The courier laughed. "Well, that's what it is. Yes, I know, humans are strange, and no, I don't know why it's important. It just is. Come on, let's go hand these out to those kids we saw earlier."

Rex: Rex cocked his head to the side, tongue lolling happily. A cactus fruit escaped the courier's arms and fell to the ground, but the cyberdog gently picked it up again and offered it to his companion.

The courier smiled down at him. "Thanks, Rex. Let's go see if the King has any more refugees in need of a meal."

[mediocre-writerr]

enough for you [emily prentiss]

emily prentiss x reader

requested: hey can i request an angst/fluff emily prentiss x fem reader where emily tries explaining that it’s her job and her work needs her, and the reader says smth like “but i need you too”

*not my gif*

You closed the book that you were reading, trying to fight off the tears that were trying to break through the dam as the front door of your shared apartment was unlocking.

This wasn't the first time she forgot something important. Whether it was a dinner with your parents or a date or an anniversary. This time wasn't any different, your ten year anniversary. No note, no simple text wishing you a happy anniversary. Nothing.

You understood what you were getting into when you first started getting serious. You've known each other since she was a newbie starting with your friend Sean McAllister at Interpol. Then she went into the BAU. Her job and work were always going to take up her time, but that didn't stop you from loving her.

"Long day?" you whispered as she stepped into the living room.

"Shit," she let out a breath, "You scared me Y/N. What are you doing up? It's almost 4 in the morning,"

"Do you know what day it is?" you asked, even softer than before.

"Tuesday, well I guess Wednesday now, why?" she asked furrowing her eyebrows.

"I meant the actual date," you clarified, she look dumbfounded. Wow, she really had no idea, "It's the 12th of August or was I guess, it's now the 13th,"

You could see the gears starting to turn in her mind as she looked around the apartment. She saw the flowers you bought her on the middle of the kitchen table with a neatly wrapped gift right next to it.

"It was our anniversary," she whispered.

You scoffed, "Ding ding ding, we have a winner!" you exclaimed with a lace of venom in your voice.

"Y/N I'm-" she started, but you cut her off.

"No, you're not sorry. This isn't the first time Emily! You meeting my parents for the first time! Our five year anniversary! Do you even know what's going on in my life right now?" you argued, raising your voice.

"You had a meeting with a record label today, didn't you?" she asked, meekly, hoping she didn't get it wrong.

You nodded, "Wow look you got something right today. But I bet you caught the unsub today, so it's the second thing you got right," you said sarcastically, "Not once did you ask how it went, you knew and you didn't care to ask because if you did you would've known that I got signed!"

"It was really busy today!" she argued back, "I can't be babying you every second of the day!"

"You don't even baby me! It feels like I've done this relationship on my own for the last nine years! Nine fucking years! So you do not get to say that you can't baby me because you haven't been here for the last nine years!" you screamed.

"You know what this job takes! We made this commitment together that we'd work through it! My work needs me! The team needs me! The innocent people who lost someone or lost their own lives needs me!" she screamed back, her words echoing in the quiet of the lonely apartment.

Tears were falling freely from your cheeks and you brought your voice to a softer tone. It cracked slightly in the process, "I needed you, too,"

She was about to respond when her phone started going off. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and answered it. You rubbed the tears furiously off your cheeks as she talked softly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there," she whispered.

Emily looked at you with guilty eyes as you let out an empty laugh, "Go, they need you," you whispered. She didn't even try to argue or protest or apologize. She just started walking towards the door slowly, "Oh yeah and Emily,"

She hummed in response turning around, "Happy anniversary,"

The door closed and you immediately started breaking down. You couldn't take it anymore. You love her so much, but it's just not the same anymore. It hasn't been for a very long time.

You grabbed a suitcase from your side of the closet and started filling it with all the clothes that you could possibly fit in it. Until there was no room left possible.

The tears blurring your vision as they ran hot against your cheeks. You grabbed all the necessities you needed before grabbing a piece of paper and pen, writing down a few words.

Dear Emily,

We didn't get to finish our conversation, but I think we both knew where it was headed.

I needed you...past tense. Maybe one day, somewhere in the future we'd finally be on the same page. But I can't keep coming second to you. Maybe not even second because there's the BAU in general, JJ, Hotch, Reid, Derek, Penelope, and Rossi, then there's those innocent people who need you. Maybe I'm not even on the list.

All of this will take time. But I need to do what's best for me right now. I'm sorry.

With love,

Y/N

You left your apartment key next to the tear stained note. You took one look at the apartment before leaving the house, going to the one place you knew you were welcome. You just hope you got there in time.

As you arrived at your destination, someone opened the door to the house at the exact same time, "Y/N, what are you doing here?" JJ asked.

"I just need to stay here please, don't tell Emily," you whispered as she looked at the suitcase in your hand.

JJ looked like she was fighting a battle in her head before ultimately nodding, "Make yourself at home,"

But before she could leave to head to the office, she rushed over to you and pulled you into her arms for a hug. You nuzzled your face into her neck, letting the tears fall freely. You finally broke down the way you needed to.

She rubbed your back until you calmed down a little more, "It's going to be okay, it's just going to take time,"

[nootgi]

Hello it's me haha ehm, do you do imagines? I wanna request for Albedo; if it's ok, just a small fic of Klee catching her big brother kissing his S/O and Albebe is stumbling in his words trying to reason with Klee 😂 if it's ok-- *scurries awayy*

A little help please? - Albedo

A/N:// SORRY FOR THE WAIT, it was taking longer than expected to do other requests but, here ya go ^-^ one embarrassed and mortified Albedo comin your way

You couldn’t breathe. 

It was impossible, every intake seemed to be cut off with a harsh exhale. Your lungs began to burn, sides started to ache and tears rolled down your face. Albedo watched in dismay as you keeled over, laughing your ass off at him. He couldn’t believe you still had it in you to laugh for 20 MINUTES after what happened. Every moment you feel as though you calmed down you look at his flushed cheeks and it sends you back down into a flurry of giggles.

What happened 20 minutes earlier? Well it begins with Albedo sneaking into the library during his lunch break to visit you. He catches you off guard as he presses you between the bookshelf and his sturdy chest. He had you pinned between his two arms. The book you were holding falls out of your hand, landing on the floor with a thud but you two don’t pay any attention to it. Both of you are looking into each other’s eyes, one hand came down to intertwine his fingers in yours.

“What brings Mr Alchemist here?” You whisper, bringing up his hand to kiss it softly. 

“I missed seeing my precious dove.” The press of your lips against his hand bought that colour you loved seeing on his cheeks but that didn’t stop Albedo and that smoulder of his. It did turn your gears how easily he slipped into his flirt mode, how his body seemed more imposing with his relaxed posture. The small quirk of his lip brings it up into a barely visible smirk, only noticeable with how close he drew his face to yours. 

“Ah did you now? It didn’t seem like you did the way you left today.” You smile, playing along with his mood, leaning up to bump your foreheads together. Today morning when you awoke, Albedo was already leaving out of the door mumbling something to himself. He took his portion of breakfast along with your morning kiss.

“Forgive me dove.” His eyes slightly darkened at your words, as if taking offence to your doubt, you were his world and stars and he wouldn’t let you doubt that even as a joke. You raise your eyebrows at his change in mood, about to question what he is doing when the hand that was holding yours so delicately, came up to hold the back of your hair in a firm grip. The kiss started out soft, his lips parted to draw your tongue in and dance along with his. Gradually the passion increased, causing you to lose yourself in the kiss. You felt your balance leaving you so you wrapped your arms around his neck, his arm that rested on the bookshelf moved to band around your waist. You let out a whine when Albedo pulled back to move his head down your neck and move his wet lips to drag lightly over your collarbone.

“You see dove I had something,” between each word was a swipe of his tongue against your most sensitive spot, every puff of his hot breath sent tingles down your spine and goosebumps to flourish everywhere, “To attend to for-”

“ALBEDO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO (Y/N)!?”

“KLEE!?” 

Klee had escaped from solitary confinement with the secret help of Kaeya! She had a secret mission of infiltrating the library to recover her story book that Lisa confiscated from her. It was very important that she got it back, it had all her survival tips and treasure maps! She made sure that Miss Lisa was gone to lunch with Miss Jean before sneaking into the library, the knights that stood guard turned a blind eye to the small girl since they knew she had no explosives. Upon entering she heard a small thud, her active imagination put her on high alert so she ran over to see what was wrong. As she was about to rush over, she remembered that Kaeya said stealth was key in these types of situations. It took Klee a while and a few bumps to quietly sneak down the stairs and cross the squeaky floorboards in the library. When she turned the corner she wasn’t expecting to see big brother Albedo and (Y/N). The two of you instantly separated, you turning away from Klee to recompose yourself. Redoing the buttons that got undone in that rush and fixing your hair as Albedo was silent. Klee stared Albedo down with her arms crossed and an unusual angry look, Albedo just stared back. It was like that for a few seconds before you cleared your throat and turned back around, stifling a laugh at the scene in front of you.

“Albedo what were you doing to them!?” She stomped her little legs over to take your hand and drag you away from Albedo. Putting herself between the two of you as to protect you from him and his mouth. Albedo’s eyes, comically wide, glance to yours to plead for help but you just shrug with a face splitting smile. 

“Y-you’re misunderstanding Klee.” The confident Albedo you knew a few minutes ago was gone and in his place was his blubbering embarrassed self. It wasn’t often you saw this side with Albedo so you savoured every second of it. You knew you could help but why waste such a good opportunity. 

“You always told me seeing is believing! I should trust what I saw and not your words!” You swear you were gonna have jaws of steel with how hard you're clenching them right now. 

“Well- uh you see Klee, me and (Y/N) were…” Albedo never thought his science tips would bite him in the ass this hard. “Kissing.” Honesty is the best policy? 

“I saw kisses in my story books! That was not kissing!!” Right, Albedo forgot Klee had some picture story books about love stories and all kinds of fluff. You could see the blood draining from Albedo’s face as his hands flapped about trying to make up an excuse. And honestly…

“When two people love each other…” It became harder to listen to. 

“Big brother Albedo deserves to be in solitary confinement! Klee goes there when she hurts people so Albedo goes there too.” She reaches her final verdict, her hat bouncing as she does a satisfied nod. By this moment, Albedo’s puffy hair is flattened from how many times he nervously ran his fingers through it and you were holding onto a bookshelf for support to hold in your laughter. 

“How will you be getting Albedo in there Klee?” You ask after composing yourself a little with some deep breaths, ignoring Albedo’s betrayed look. 

“Miss Jean will after I tell her!” Albedo has never been more at loss in his life, he was so used to being able to find an answer to everything or at least be on the right path. But with this, where was he to go. Every route was a dead end and his precious dove, his lifeline, left him stranded. Well there was one thing he could do.

“A little help ple-” His voice cracked. As did the dam holding back your laughter.

You sent Klee off, reassuring her that you were okay and could punish Albedo yourself. The two of you stood in by the table, listening to her grab her book and leave the library before turning to each other. Albedo looked worse than he did after a long night in the lab, hair messy, eyes bloodshot and dry from how wide and unblinking they were moments before. He made sure to clear his throat before speaking to you however when he caught your eye, you were back into your fit of giggles. 

All he wanted was to get his missing morning kiss and instead got a lifetime of embarrassment and a suspicious pat on the back from Kaeya.

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter four: cham-pain

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.4K

A/N: hey, you.  yes, YOU. has anyone told you that you’re pretty today? well, if not let me be the first. i can’t help but feel lovey-dovey about the love you guys have shown me on this story. thank you so much for everything.  i hope you like this chapter and i hope you’ll reach out and let me know either way.  big shoutout to the baes @ladyartemesia​ and @taetaewonderland​ they know why.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

********************

At what point do you stop calling them shorts and start calling them panties?

That’s the question Hoseok ponders when he walks into the kitchen to find you precariously perched on tiptoes, straining to reach for something in an overhead cabinet.  He lets his gaze linger over the soft skin of your legs, up to your thighs, up higher to where he can damned near see the swell of your ass peeking out from that obscene little scrap of cloth.

What he does next is probably unwise.

What he does next is approach silently from behind, pressing one hand into the small of your back as he reaches over you to get a hold of the jar you’re struggling to grab. And if he enjoys the way your body jolts with surprise beneath his fingertips or the way your hair smells when he’s this close, then that’s his business and no one else’s.

“Thank you,” you murmur, avoiding his eyes and for a moment Hoseok thinks you’re going to scold him for being so bold.

But you don’t.

*********************

Hoseok shouldn’t be toying with you right now and he knows it. It’s not like you’ve ever been an open book with him, but these past few days you’ve been even more withdrawn -- more in your head than ever before.  

Not that you don’t have your reasons.

Shit is off the rails with your case and you’re living with a complete stranger and someone left a live fucking snake in your bedroom a few nights ago.  

So if Hoseok has noticed that you walk around in a fog — that the fire he used to see inside of you from time to time seems extinguished — well, that’s certainly understandable. 

But he can’t help but wonder if there’s something more to your melancholy. He can’t help but wonder if you actually hold a candle for that idiot you left reeling at the restaurant.  

Hoseok can’t stop thinking about that guy.  

There is a feeling he can’t shake and it’s not just the urge to beat Kang Donghyuk to a pulp. Hoseok can’t shake the feeling that beneath the dopey smile and the lazy charm and the overall benign affect, there’s something more.  

Something Hoseok is determined to figure out.

So he leaves you to your cooking in the kitchen and retreats to the privacy of his room to phone Seokjin.  If this piece of shit is up to something, Hoseok is going to make it his personal mission to find it.

And if he finds something?

Then Hoseok will make it his personal mission to make him pay.

***********************

YOU

“Amsaja -- with Hoseok.  Try being nice.”

You think back to your brother’s words as you stand just outside the door to Hoseok’s room, fist raised to knock.  But you don’t, at least not right away.  

What is your fucking problem?

You remind yourself that you are a grown woman, not some skittish little girl.  You remind yourself that Jung Hoseok is just a man.  

And then you get a grip.

The door opens after one light knock.  You don’t mean to stare, truly you don’t -- but Hoseok is wearing one of those goddamned tank tops again.  What happened to suits all day and all night?  Suits are a hell of a lot less distracting.

“What’s up?” he asks cautiously.  

Your eyes dart from his face to his chest to his arms and finally settle around his neck, where a pair of dog tags hang from a silver chain.  You had nearly forgotten that Jung Hoseok made a career of the military before he was one of your brother’s right-hand men.

“I made some Samgyetang,” you say lamely, gesturing to the bowl of soup in your hands.

I made it for you. 

“And it’s uh, supposed to be good for a cold,” you add, when he says nothing.

Which you have.  

“So, I -- ” you clear your throat, shift your weight back and forth on your feet, “ -- made some.”

For you.

Hoseok stares at the bowl like you’ve brought him a grenade instead of a meal.  The puzzled look on his face makes you feel awkward, makes the entire gesture seem silly.

“Never mind,” you say under your breath, turning on your heels.  

“Wait --” Hoseok calls quickly, stepping out of his room to follow you,  “ -- I didn’t -- I was just surprised, that’s all.” 

“It’s just soup,” you say over your shoulder, trying like hell to sound casual and not at all offended.

Hoseok keeps pace behind you into the kitchen; commands your attention with one firm hand on your arm.  You turn to face him, averting your gaze from the sweatpants that hang low on his hips and the thin cotton that grips every muscle of his lean chest.

“I didn’t mean to make that weird,” Hoseok says quietly. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had homemade Samgyetang.”

You pull your arm out of his hold.  

“Well, it’s there if you want it,” you shrug, brushing past him.

It’s a relief to trade the charged air of the kitchen for the uncomplicated quiet of your room.

*************************

Hyejin takes her reading glasses off to rub the bridge of her nose.  

“I’m not even kidding about my eyesight being shot,” she sighs, reaching for her coffee cup.  “It gets worse every day and the print on these depositions does not help.”

“I know,” you mumble, highlighter flying over your own set of fine print.  “Sorry.”

“Hey, at least we’re in this together,” she smiles. “Right?” 

Her face falls when you don’t return the gesture.

It’s not exactly a secret that you haven’t been firing on all cylinders lately.  You are so worn out from the shit going on at work and the shit going on at home that it feels like you don’t have much more to give.  You just want to climb into bed and sleep for a week straight.

If only you had that luxury.  

Instead, you’re back at it with Hyejin today, trying to figure out a way around the missing digital evidence you so desperately need.  The loss of those files was a terrible setback, but you refuse to let it be the end.  You still have an entire warehouse full of confiscated guns under lock and key.

Now you just need to get your head in the game.

“You still going to the gala tomorrow night?” Hyejin asks, sipping her coffee.

So much for getting your head in the game.

“Not sure,” you murmur, underlining a key part of the testimony.  “Lots of shit going on right now.”

“Yeah, I know things between you and Donghyuk got weird,” Hyejin says carefully.

You stop yourself from laughing out loud. 

Donghyuk is so far down your list of fires to fight, you’d nearly forgotten him completely.  You probably could forget him if you weren’t subjected to his dirty looks every time the two of you cross paths at the office.  You’ve made at least two very awkward cups of coffee standing side-by-side in the past week alone -- but honestly, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“That’s -- “ you start and stop before continuing, “ -- not really an issue right now.”

“Okay, sure,” Hyejin concedes. “Just don’t forget that I’m here if you need someone to talk to, alright?  You don’t always have to take everything on by yourself.”

You stop your incessant highlighting to look up at your friend and colleague.  

Concern is written all over her pretty face and for a moment you entertain the thought of opening up to her.  The idea of talking about what’s going on is tempting -- like if you could share just a piece of your burden you could relieve some of the pressure inside of you.  But there’s another part of you that worries that you are too pent up to let go of any of this.  A part of you that feels like all it will take is one tiny crack for the entire dam to give.

You finally manage to muster one weak smile for your friend, who seems relieved to see any display of emotion out of you.

“Thanks, Hye.  I’ll keep that in mind.”

***********************

You almost skipped tonight.  Almost.

But you’d already bought a dress and the tickets were paid for and Hoseok didn’t even flinch when you told him you had to go to a black-tie event. 

If only you could say the same for the moment you saw him in the living room.

When Hoseok turned at the sound of your heels on the marble floor, with hands tucked into the pockets of his bespoke black tux, you nearly forgot to breathe.  All of the coordinating details, the slim-cut jacket and the perfectly-styled hair and the carefully-crafted bow tie felt like a gut punch.

You’d silently prayed that Hoseok didn’t catch the way your eyes lingered on him for just a beat too long -- or that he didn’t spot the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. The color that must have been made all the more obvious against the rose shade of your gown.

“You ready?”

Hoseok interrupts your thoughts with his usual business-like tone.  The one that tells you that this inner monologue about how incredible he looks tonight is painfully one-sided.  

You nod, not trusting yourself to use your words.

All things considered, the situation with Donghyuk couldn’t have gone south at a better time.  He would have been your date for the night were it not for the blow up at dinner -- and it certainly would have drawn unwanted attention to have two men at your side all evening.  

Though with the way Hoseok looks tonight, you imagine the attention will come anyway.

*********************

There are few things in life rich people enjoy more than pretending to give a shit about poor ones. 

They make sport of it, jockeying for position in front of the cameras, gladly shelling out hundreds of thousands of won a plate to prove just how much they care.  They spend their evenings drinking top-shelf liquor and eating top-notch catering and convincing themselves that they’re making some kind of sacrifice for the greater good.  

A string quartet plays softly in the background as guests mill about, grabbing drinks and hors d'oeuvres off of passing trays.  Hoseok is at your side, a glass of water in hand.  He is just close enough for you to take in his heady, masculine smell -- but not too close.

You hate that he smells this good.

You hate that he looks this good.

You have tried -- and failed -- to ignore the appreciative stares he’s gotten from some of the gala guests.  You already caught one woman ogling outright, gawking unrepentantly while at her own date’s side.  When a cocktail server walks by with a carefully-balanced offering of champagne flutes, you grab one right away.

Hoseok, as usual, takes nothing.  

You sip your champagne and watch him watching the room.  

He certainly looks the part of a society player tonight in his tux, the occasional wrinkle of his nose the only indicator of his disdain for the men and women drinking and dancing around him.  When a woman bumps into him while carrying a plate of appetizers, he holds out a hand to help her keep upright and she damned near melts at his reassuring smile.  

“Oh, thank you,” she breathes deeply before her eyes dart in your direction.  

You look away.

Not once have you ever seen this man smile, and he’s certainly never smiled at you.  You turn to slam the rest of your champagne and put the empty flute on a nearby table just as another cocktail server passes with a full tray of drinks. 

How fortuitous.  You grab another.  

There’s a few more minutes of mingling before the guests are asked to take a seat at their assigned tables.  Hoseok holds out your chair and you accept. 

The interaction, like always, is silent.

You look up from the perfectly staged spread to spot Donghyuk two tables away.  Even from a distance you can tell his cheeks look ruddy — like he’s already had way too much to drink. He narrows his eyes when he realizes you are looking and you lift your champagne flute to tip a sarcastic salute in his direction.  He scowls back.

“Miss Kim,” a deep voice interrupts your petty exchange. “What a pleasant coincidence.”

You force a smile when your boss and his wife unexpectedly fill two empty seats at your table.

“Mr. Park,” you return quietly. “Nice to see you tonight. And Mrs. Park, of course.”

Mrs. Park’s answering smile is warm and genuine, but the same cannot be said of her husband’s. Of course, the last conversation you had with him one-on-one, he’d practically thrown you out of his office. The smile on his face right now is a bit watery.

“It’s so nice to see you dear,” Mrs. Park says sweetly.  “And who is this handsome fellow?”

You falter when you open your mouth to answer, but Hoseok smoothly interjects.

“Yi Sang, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”

You close your mouth and turn to smile woodenly at Hoseok, who doesn’t bother to look back. 

“Mr. Yi,” your boss extends his hand for a firm handshake, but a strange look passes over his face.  “The pleasure is ours.” 

Hoseok’s mouth pulls into a tight smile and you down what’s left of your champagne.

A couple you don’t recognize join your table before dinner is served.  You do your best to appear engaged in the small talk; nodding when appropriate, smiling during the awkward pauses.  But there is an emptiness in you tonight.  You spend the entire meal pushing the artfully-arranged dishes around your plate because you find you have no desire for food.

The same cannot be said for the champagne, though. That’s going down quite nicely.  Your server dutifully brings another flute as soon as yours is empty.

“I must commend you, Miss Kim, on forging ahead with this case,” Mr. Park says, when the plates have been cleared and after-dinner coffee is being served.  “I know it hasn’t been easy after the theft of your files.”

“Oh,” you clear your throat. “Yes, well -- I’m doing my best with what I have left.”

“Of course. It’s important we do what we can to bring these low-lives to justice,” Mr. Kim says slowly.  He looks from you to Hoseok with an expression that stops just short of a challenge and the champagne in your stomach seems to come to life. “Organized crime in this city is out of hand. We can’t allow Seoul to descend into chaos because of the trash making a living off of guns and drugs.”

Trash like your brother. 

“Right,” you say quietly, swallowing past a lump in your throat. “I’ll do my best.” 

Hoseok remains composed at your side, but you don’t miss how his knuckles go white as his grip around the water glass tightens.  

Trash like Hoseok.  

You swallow another mouthful of champagne.  

The couple sitting next to the Parks -- oblivious to the friction at the table -- strike up a conversation about the dessert selection and you’ve never been more glad for small talk.  The tension in the air slowly dissipates.

But you keep drinking.

Hoseok leans into you, lips so close they nearly brush the shell of your ear and your entire body goes still.  Goosebumps bloom all over when you feel his breath against your skin.

“You should eat something,” he murmurs.

You could almost laugh at the way your stomach seems to fall with disappointment.  What were you expecting him to say? Something complimentary? Something reassuring?  

What a joke.

All at once you decide you need space, you need air, you need a break from the bullshit you seem to be taking from all sides tonight.

Hoseok’s eyebrows lift as you stand from your seat.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you announce to the table, “I need to visit the powder room.”

The champagne seems to hit you the moment you stand and you have to work hard at keeping your steps steady as you make your way out of the ballroom.

You would never admit it, but Hoseok is right. 

You really should eat something.

***********************

hoseok: text me or i’m coming in [11:02 PM ]

You stand in the mirror and stare at your reflection in the dim lighting of the ladies’ room. You’ve been to dozens of these events over the years and it’s never felt as pointless and unnatural to you as it does right now.  A part of you hates how much you’ve tied yourself into knots seeking the validation of these pompous assholes.  So desperate to be chosen by the chosen few. 

hoseok: last chance [11:06 PM ]

Another part of you hates Hoseok.  

You hate his constant presence and his constant silence and his constant judgement.  It always feels like he’s punishing you for some transgression you don’t even know you’ve committed.  Your phone buzzes with a reminder of the waiting texts and you sigh, unlocking the screen to fire off an answer before Hoseok makes good on his threat to storm his way in.

you: i’m fine. be right out [ 11:08 PM ]

You take one last look in the mirror.  Have you always looked this tired? 

Before dinner -- after you’d meticulously primped for tonight -- you’d been satisfied with what you saw in the mirror.  Now all you can see are the shadows under your eyes, the grim set of your mouth.  Is this what other people see when they look at you, too?

A knock sounds on the door and you blow out an exasperated breath.  Hoseok must be tired of waiting for you to wrap this pity party.  You yank the door open with more force than intended, fully prepared to tell him to fuck off.

But it’s Donghyuk on the other side.

You stare at him.

“What do you want?” you hiss, stepping out into the hallway.

“I just want to talk,” Donghyuk says coolly, standing just a bit too close. You grimace at the smell of liquor on his breath.  “You still haven’t given me a chance to thank you personally for making me look like an asshole at dinner the other day.”

“Oh, honey -- you don’t need my help to look like an asshole,” you fire back, pushing more space in between you with a firm shove of your fingers to his shoulder. “You do a fine job of that all on your own.”

His laughter blows whiskey-tinged hot air in your direction and you make a face.

“I see you upgraded the bodyguard to dinner date.”

“Shut up, Donghyuk, honestly,” you seethe.  You try to step around him to leave, but he blocks you with his body.  

“You fucking him now, too?”

You barely register the movement of your own hand before it’s connecting with the side of Donghyuk’s face.  You barely register Hoseok’s arrival before he’s between you both, pulling you away and practically shoving Donghyuk to the floor.  You barely hear Hoseok’s whispered threats and you nearly miss the way he unbuttons his jacket to ensure Donghyuk sees his gun.

The whole debacle is so fast and so surreal you could almost convince yourself you imagined it.

But there is no imagining the sting still throbbing in your palm.

*****************************

HOSEOK

The trouble tonight started long before you smacked the shit out of Kang Donghyuk. 

The trouble started when you walked out of your room in that goddamned gown. Hoseok had not been entirely prepared for you in that dress.

He had only a split second to make sure he wasn’t staring.  He jammed his hands into his pockets and forced the most casual demeanor he could muster, but fuck it wasn’t easy.  There were a hundred things he could have said in that moment, would have said in that moment -- if you weren’t you and if he weren’t him.

Of course, dinner was a bit of a clusterfuck, too.

Playing dress up with the city’s elites was somehow less enjoyable than Hoseok imagined it would be.  The stares from tipsy society girls and the critical looks from their dates were bad enough but your boss laying it on thick with the white knight bullshit at the end was the real icing on the cake.  The coded language and the veiled threats that made loud and clear he knew exactly what Hoseok was but wouldn’t say it out loud.  

Hoseok saw the way you seemed to retreat even further into yourself during the exchange, silent and thinking.

And drinking. 

Hoseok has only ever seen you enjoy the occasional glass of wine with meals.  Tonight was an entirely different story. You were on a mission to get wrecked from the moment you sat down; forgoing food for an alarming amount of champagne.  Hoseok counted four glasses down before he decided to say something. 

Of course, that went over about as well as he’d expected -- and seconds later, you were walking away.

Hoseok hadn’t planned on following you to the bathroom. He hadn’t planned on overhearing the nasty back-and-forth in the hall . And he hadn’t planned on threatening to kill Kang Donghyuk at some ridiculous charity dinner.  But when he saw the man get up from his seat to follow you -- Hoseok moved on auto-pilot.  

There was no avoiding what came next.

**********************

You don’t utter a single word on the ride home.  

You don’t say a word when Hoseok walks you upstairs, unlocks the door to usher you inside.  He’s still securing the new deadbolts when he hears your bedroom door slam shut.

Hoseok scrubs a hand over his face and sighs deeply before loosening the bow tie and slipping it off.   

Then he pulls out his phone to text Seokjin.

hoseok: you on him? [ 11:48 PM ]

seokjin: sleeping it off in his car right now. what a slob [ 11:49 PM ]

seokjin: you’re welcome btw [ 11:49 PM ]

hoseok: thx [ 11:50 PM ]

Seconds later, your bedroom door swings open so hard it bounces back off the opposite wall. Hoseok looks up from his phone just as you are storming into the living room, hands still securing the belt to the short robe you’ve just changed into.  

You are positively vibrating with a dangerous energy Hoseok can feel clear across the room.  Maybe you’ve been sleepwalking through these past few days, but you are definitely awake now.

And angry.

“I don’t need you to win my fights,” you fume, pointing one hostile finger in his direction. “I took care of myself long before you came along and I can take care of myself now.”

Christ, do you have any idea how little you are wearing right now?  

Hoseok focuses on that accusing finger because it keeps him from staring at your legs. It also keeps him from opening his mouth and making you madder than you already are. 

“I don’t need you or anyone else swooping in with that macho bullshit,” you hiss, bringing your body within inches of his.  “I have had enough of men running and ruining every aspect of my life.”

Shit, do you have any idea how close you are right now? 

Hoseok can smell the perfume that lingers on your skin when you’re this close.  He can see how your pupils are blown wide and your cheeks are flushed with heat when you’re this close. 

“Say something,” you demand, jabbing your finger into his chest.  “Do something.”

Fuck, you are playing with fire.

You want a fight and Hoseok is this close to giving you one.  He has to summon every ounce of his self control to keep his voice and breathing steady. He fists his hands at his sides to keep them from moving.  

“You’ve had too much to drink,” he replies with careful calm.  “You should go to bed.”

“Or what?” you challenge, fingers reaching to unfasten the top buttons of his dress shirt.  Hoseok’s entire body tenses under your touch. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he says between gritted teeth. 

“Checking for a heartbeat,” you murmur. “Looking for signs of life.  Is there a real man in there?”

There’s a real man in here, alright, Hoseok thinks darkly.  Keep pushing me and you’re going to find out.

“Of course not,” you whisper to yourself, snaking one hand into the collar of his shirt. He flinches when your fingertips brush up against the cool metal of his dog tags. “You’re some kind of robot.”

You pull the tags out from under his collar and Hoseok swallows thickly.  

“Just a machine programmed to follow orders, right?  My brother’s orders. The Army’s orders,” you pause to read the embossed letters on his tags.  ‘Isn’t that right, Captain Jung?”

You gasp when Hoseok’s hand comes up to seize yours.  His fingers circle the delicate bones of your wrist and he doesn’t let go, applying a pressure that sure as hell gets your attention.

“People like me follow orders so people like you don’t have to,” Hoseok seethes.  “People like me do the dirty work so people like you can impress rich assholes at stupid parties. People like me stay behind and handle our responsibilities so people like you can walk away from yours.”

Your stare at him for a moment, eyes wide at his outburst.  Then you jerk your wrist out of his hold so violently you nearly fall back with the force of it. 

Hoseok freezes when your robe slides down off your shoulder. He stares when his eyes settle on the jagged scar that runs deep across your collarbone.  

Fucking hell. 

Hoseok traded one bloody business for another when he gave up his rank in the Army for his rank in the Gajog. He’s seen more than his fair share of vicious cuts and nasty wounds. 

Whoever did that to you wanted to make sure you’d have to carry it with you for the rest of your life.

********************

Tomorrow morning, Hoseok is gonna regret a lot of shit that happened tonight. 

He’s going to regret not telling you how beautiful you looked when you walked out of that room.  He’s going to regret going out of his way to hurt you with his words. 

But most of all, he’s going to regret the moment he looked into your face and saw the anger in your eyes change over into pain.

You yank the robe back over your shoulder, cinch the belt tight — and walk away without another word. 

********************

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[everybodyscupoftea]

going nowhere

college isaac x reader

a snowstorm and a chill day

(warnings: cursing, google docs edited this)

You woke up before Isaac by a few minutes, shifting closer in his arms. The room was cold, and he was warm, hogging most of the blankets pinned between his arm and the bed. His eyebrows furrowed in his sleep, and you reached up to smooth them out gently before tapping his nose.

Scrunching it, Isaac’s eyelids started to flutter, and you waited patiently for his eyes to open and him to wake up. He blinked sleepily at you, “Morning,” he spoke, voice about two octaves deeper.

“Morning, hon,” you brushed a kiss across his cheekbone and he smiled sleepily.

Moving even closer, he shifted a little bit to give you room to get closer. He sighed in contentment, “What did you want to do today?”

“Hmm,” you mused, tapping a finger on his exposed collarbone, “we could go to the mall. Haven’t bought my roommate a Christmas present yet.”

“I need to get something else for Scott,” he broke off to yawn, “so that sounds good to me.”

You hummed, “Okay. We should get up before the mall gets too crowded.”

He groaned dramatically, but let you up, pouting as he did so. Smiling widely, you crossed your arms, staring him down until he got up and walked to the closet to get dressed.

“You’re driving right?” you asked ten minutes later after the two of you were bundled up enough to go outside.

He sighed, “You’re the one used to driving in the snow, but I suppose I can for your sake.” 

You laughed, throwing the apartment door open and immediately froze, staring out the third floor window at the feet of snow that built up overnight. He ran into you from behind, not realizing you’d stopped, and snorted at the view.

“Guess we’re not going to the mall,” you murmured.

“Looks like we’re snowed in.”

A gust of air blew through the building and you shivered, turning to nudge him back inside, “Go go go, I’m freezing.” 

The two of you took your coats off, and you nudged the heat up while Isaac made a pot of coffee. He handed you a warm mug a few minutes later and pulled you toward the couch. Before you joined him sitting, you pouted. 

Isaac sighed, faux annoyed, “Can I help you?”

“I’m cold.”

“Get a blanket,” he suggested, reaching over to pull one out of the basket you kept next to the couch.

“It wouldn’t be enough,” you insisted, definitely bullshitting.

He raised his eyebrows, “What would you like?” 

Grinning, you answered eagerly, “A sweater.”

His smile softened, and he stood up, “Now that I can do.” 

Disappearing into his room, you waited for him to come back, and when he did, he had one of your favorite of his cardigans in his hand. You pulled it on, snuggling into its warmth, and settled down on the couch next to him.

“So, what should we do?”

He hummed, “Would you mind if I caught up on my book?”

“Not at all,” you answered, “I might try one of the ones you suggested if you have any.”

Raising his eyebrows, Isaac huffed, “Sweetheart, do you think I just know off the top of my head which books I’ve recommended?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him, “You don’t have to, I have them all in my notes in my phone.”

Isaac looked genuinely taken aback, and you smiled as he finally gathered his thoughts, “Um, okay. Show me.”

And he did have some of the books so he pulled them out and let you judge by their covers which one you wanted to read first. When you picked, he grabbed his book off the nightstand and followed you back to the couch.

You let him lay down first, following suit when he finally stilled, resting between his legs, leaned back against his chest. It was comfortable, you moving with his breaths, and Isaac reached down with one of his hands to hold yours, fingers linked together. It was harder to flip the pages, but you didn’t want to let go.

The book was good, Isaac was right in his assumption you’d like it. Immediately drawn in, you held it in your right hand, as did he, your left hands linked together, resting on your stomach. He stayed very still, neither of you moving much besides taking a sip of coffee. 

The only exception being when he sat up, bringing you with him, to pull the blanket up over both of your legs. Both of you were facing a window with the blinds open, and every so often you’d look up to see it still snowing outside.

After what felt like minutes but was probably hours, Isaac’s stomach growled, breaking the two of you out of the peaceful silence. He smiled sheepishly, “We haven’t eaten yet.” 

“Do you have leftovers?” you asked, closing your book.

“Yeah.”

“Lunch break.”

You both made plates, taking turns heating them up in the microwave, and he sat down at the table first, waiting for you to join him to eat. It was quiet until he broke it again, “Hey.”

Eyebrows raised, you echoed, “Hey.”

He cleared his throat nervously, “So I’ve been wondering what jobs you’ve been looking into?”

You hummed, “I really liked the hydro class I took. Kind of knew already that I wanted to work in either transportation or water systems, but my transportation class sucked so I’m definitely leaning more toward water systems.”

Isaac nodded, “What would that entail?”

“Designing dams and stuff like that.”

“So you want to live on a coast?” 

With a laugh, you shrugged, “I’ll live wherever they give me a job.”

“Fair.”

“What about you?” you asked, leaning on your elbow, chin resting in your hand.

“I like the idea of being an English professor. I’d need to see if I need a master’s or not.” 

“Are you interested in getting a master?”

He shrugged, cheeks turning a bit red, “I like the idea. My dad always used to tell me I’ll never amount to anything. I know he’s wrong, I mean a bachelor’s degree is huge because he didn’t have one. But the idea of rubbing a master’s in his face is nice.” 

You nodded, taking it in, “I totally understand. I think if I can’t find a job relatively soon after graduating, I’m going to get a master’s myself. It’ll help me not only with a job, but I’ll be able to move up to a senior position one day if the opportunity arises.”

“And I’m sure you will, you’re very good at pretty much everything you try to do,” he praised.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, everything but English and anything writing related that’s not scientific.”

He shrugged, “And I’m great at those things, so we make a great team. A team that should never split.”

Jaw dropping a little, you stared at him, “Are you proposing to me right now?” 

Stuttering for a few seconds, he eventually managed, “No, but yes.”

“That’s clear,” you responded sarcastically.

“I’m proposing we stay together after undergrad.We go somewhere together, I’m willing to move with you anywhere. We don’t have to get married immediately, but maybe one day, we could.”

You beamed, “I would absolutely love that.”

Isaac perked up, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And for the record,” you added, “if you get into grad school before I find a job, I’d move with you too and find a job there.” 

He was shaking his head before you even finished, “No, your career is more important than any degree.”

You raised your eyebrows, “I want this to be fair.”

“It will be. It absolutely will be. I don’t want you to compromise that for me.”

Touched, you managed, “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Yeah well, I want you to stick around. If that’s what it takes, I have no issue. There are schools everywhere, but there might only be a few places with your dream job. I want to support that.”

Smiling tearfully, you had to stand up and walk over to him, tiling his chin up to meet you in a kiss. He returned it eagerly, and you felt something fall into place. An uncertainty you didn’t even realize you’d been dealing with finally being resolved.

Pulling away, you kept your hand on his chin to look him in the eye and quietly spoke, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” he answered back, just as quiet.

~

day 17 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: snowed in

[samwilsonshandsandass]

What should we name them?

Summary: You take Henry with you to a horse auction but it’s not a classical horse auction which gives you the chance to name the horses. Pairing: Henry Cavill x f!reader Word count: 2109 Warnings: none A/N: This is just me screaming about horses

“So, how does this work? A horse auction where you don’t see the horse?”

“An embryo transfer auction” You explained.

“Wait. Why embryo and why transfer? Do you mean you don’t even get to see the actual mare? The mother of the foal that’s auctioned?”

“Yep.”

“I’m confused.”

“That’s why I’m here. I tell you which foal to bid on and you bid.” You smiled. “You basically bid on hope.”

Henry looked around him, as more and more people filled the room, went to their seats around the show ring where the horses would be presented, next to them and in the few rows in front of them, but most of them had seats behind them. You had booked seats at the middle of one of the long sides of the ring to have the best view of the mares’ gaits and conformation. Other people went to greet acquaintances and reconnect with their breeder or trainer or rider colleagues.

A while later, the auctioneer went up to their platform and rapped their gavel. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to the combined embryo transfer auction of the Oldenburg Warmblood and the Hanoverian Warmblood. Today we have 30 embryos, 17 Hanoverians and 13 Oldenburgs, all coming from blood lines of accomplished show jumpers and dressage horses and dam lines experienced in the upbringing of even-tempered foals, sport and breeding partners!”

“Why is this combined?” Henry whispered in your ear. “Because of the disciplines?”

“Because of the races. Normally the Oldenburg Association and the Hanoverian Association keep their buying and selling business separate.”

“Oh, okay. Is that why you wanted us to fly out on such short notice?”

“Yeah, it’s two birds with one stone.”

You both focused back on the ring before you, shortly before the first brood mare was brought out.

The auction started, but you bid your time.

“The tenth foal today is a Hanoverian from Stakkato Gold and out of Bella Donna. Stakkato Gold himself is a son of Stakkato who has been successful in the sport and especially in breeding. His son Stakkato Gold himself is in turn a testament to his father and to the current show jumping scene! And the dam line with Bella Donna is just as promising, with Bella Donna being the former. top horse and Olympic prospect of Meredith-Michaels-Beerbaum! Who’s starting us off with the price starting at 5 000 euros?”

Your eyes went big as you heard the pedigree of this foal. It wasn’t only the pedigree of the foal that excited you, it was also the prospect of training and molding a foal that was out of a mare that once was shown under your one and only show jumping idol, Meredith-Michaels-Beerbaum but then sold to Qatar.

Henry looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Should I bid on this one?”

“Yes, but not immediately. I’ll tell you” You whispered to not disrupt the atmosphere of the auction and to not alert the other bidders on your intent. You didn’t want to be in the middle of a bidding war. Seeing one was a different thing, though.

When the auctioneer was close to declare the foal sold, you squeezed Henry’s thigh, the signal you agreed on for him to bid, and his arm promptly shot up.

“And we’re back, now with a price of 20 000 euros!” The auctioneer cried.

All was silent, you pressed your teeth together so much they hurt. You dug your nails into your thigh and into Henry’s thigh, but surprisingly he didn’t wince.

“Going once…” The auctioneer looked around.

“Going twice…” He looked in yours and Henry’s direction.

“Going three times, sold to the gentleman in the dark green sweater! Foal number ten from Stakkato Gold and out of Bella Donna is sold to the gentleman in the dark green sweater for 20 000 euros!”

You breathed a big sigh of relief. “You did it.” You smiled at Henry and removed your nails from his thigh.

“I’m just raising my arm, love” He smiled back at you and pecked your cheek.

The bidding and a bidding war continued until a small break was announced and the two of you went to get some coffee and tea.

After break, the auction resumed. There was no shortage of incredible combinations, both of the dressage and the show jumping horses and both breeds.

“And now for an Oldenburg foal from Cornet de Semilly and Bianca! The sire is audibly a son of the one and only Cornet Obolensky! I don’t have to say much about the horses whose names’ start with ‘Cornet’! We all know how famous these horses are and even if I was to just tell you only the biggest wins of the twenty most accomplished Cornet Obolensky offspring, we’d be here for quite a bit!” The auctioneer shouted and smiled at the crowd, which laughed amiably.

They all knew he was right but the chance to get their hands on their very own offspring of probably the best show jumping stallion in breeding was too near to get real big laughs. They were tense. You were, too and subsequently dug your nails into Henry’s thigh again. You wanted this foal.

“But that was only the father’s side of this foal! The mare, Bianca, has been and is a household name in the Suisse show jumping national team under the current world number one, Steve Guerdat! We’ll start the bidding at 7 000 euros!”

The bidding war started immediately but Henry held off on “just raising his arm” as he had put it until you nudged his knee with yours. “Now!” You whispered.

“And it’s already at- No, now we’re at 15 000 from the gentleman in the dark green sweater!”

You heard a slightly louder than usual breath from Henry. Apparently, he had held his breath when he bid.

“16 000 from the lady with the pearls! No! 17 500 from the gentleman in red!”

Arms around you, behind you, opposite of you, everywhere shot up to get the one foal that had Cornet Obolensky as father-father.

“20 000 from the- 22 500 coming from the lady in blue! 25 000 from the gentleman in black!” The auctioneer couldn’t yell the sums and the people who bid them fast enough.

Everything was quiet and just like before, the auctioneer waited a bit until he began with ending the bidding for this foal.

“Going once…”

“Wait for it, Henry” you mumbled.

“Going twice…”

You could see the man in black who bid 25 000 smirk. He seemed to be sure to get this foal.

“Going three times…” The auctioneer looked around and you saw that man’s smirk grow wider.

“Now.” You said tonelessly, not taking your eyes off that man.

Henry moved and you saw the auction paddle out of the corner of your eye.

“30 000!” Henry shouted.

“We got 30 000 from the gentleman in the dark green sweater! Anyone else bidding? Anyone?”

No one moved, not even the man in black, who you still had in your line of vision. The auctioneer looked around and opened his mouth.

“Going once… Going twice…”

Another man behind the one in black leaned forward and seemed to want to urge him to bid again. But the man in black shook his head.

“Going three times… and sold! The Cornet de Semilly foal is sold for 30 000 euros to the gentleman in the dark green sweater!”

Your grin grew to the size of your face and you kissed Henry. “We did it! We got this foal!”

“We did, love!”

-----

After the auction finished, you and Henry went into the stables were the mares stood. You showed your badge that identified you two as trainer in your case and now owner in Henry’s case. Finding the two broodmares of your two new horses, Henry went to the one with the Stakkato Gold foal and you went to the other one. You petted the horses, getting acquainted with them. You’d visit them at their respective studs several times until the foals would be born, weaned and ready to really come home to you and start with training.

Back at the front of the complex of buildings, you and Henry got something to drink at a bar table.

“They need names. Any suggestions?” You asked.

“Why are you asking me? I never named a horse.” He grinned, he obviously already had some ideas.

“You’re the owner. You have the name giving privileges and since these horses aren’t born yet even their barn nicknames could fit their official sports names.”

“Uhm… Then how about… Would it be weird if we named them after something or someone?” He thought out loud.

“Not at all” You grinned at him. “I could name at least fifteen show jumping horses without thinking too much that were named after something or someone.”

“Could we name one of them ‘Superman’? You know, since you always say show jumping is kinda like flying and we bought show jumpers today?”

“’Just because show jumping is kinda like flying’? No other reason?” You teased Henry and he rubbed his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I’m afraid not. The Cornet de Semilly foal’s name has to start with ‘Cornet’. Although with enough persuasion at the headquarters of the German national equestrian federation, we could get them to allow us a name with ‘C’. And then that foal would have to be a stallion and we don’t know the sex yet.”

“So ‘Cornet’s Superman’ would be possible?”

“Yes” You laughed.

“And the Stakkato Gold foal? Could we-?” He looked down at you, giddy, hopefully. And you had to take that giddy hope from him.

“We could also name this foal ‘Superman’, if you like” You smiled at him. “Although, that name on a Cornet Obolensky offspring would be cool, since he’s one of the very best stallions, just as the auctioneer said. And as long as you suddenly pull some Witcher-related nickname or something like it starting with an ‘S’, you’ll have to wait and be on the lookout.”

Henry pouted at that but you could already see the gears in his head turning.

“Didn’t you once say something about some other breed from continental Europe that doesn’t have such strict rules on name giving?”

“Yeah, the Royal Dutch Warmblood.”

“So, if we bought one, we could name him ‘Geralt if Rivia’?” The hope returned.

“More like ‘Geralt van d’Abdijhoeve’ or ‘Geralt VDM’. The Dutch are big on showing the stud farm the horse is from. Germans are bigger on showing the sire line through the name” You explained. “So, next you wanna go to an auction of the Royal Dutch Warmblood?”

“Maybe… If that’s okay?”

“You won’t hear any complaining from me. The horses of that breed are a great testament to the Dutch breeding community.”

“We still don’t have a name for the first foal we bought” Henry mused.

“So, we settled on ‘Cornet’s Superman’ for the second foal if it’s a stallion?” Teasing Henry by making him think you weren’t persuaded yet was too easy.

“Please?”

“I’m just messing with you. I’m convinced.”

“That’s one name. One’s still to be determined. I chose one, now you choose one” Henry offered.

“If the Stakkato Gold foal is a stallion, I’m calling him ‘Sargent Barnes’” You started to smile and that smile only grew wider when you saw Henry making a face. “Don’t be like that, you should know those ‘feuds’ are mostly PR plots.”

“Yeah, you’re right...”

-----

One and a half years later, you both stood at the front gate of what was just called ‘The Yard’, which was a very short name for the facility that housed your home, several riding arenas indoor and outdoor and almost every other amenity you could need for training and producing show jumping horses for the highest level.

At the far end you saw the lorry approach with your two yearling stallions. You accompanied the lorry the last stretch until one of your grooms parked and you unloaded your (kind of) new horses. Henry took the lead rope of the Cornet offspring who he had given the barn name of ‘Clark Kent’. That way, he wouldn’t have a big fluffy bear barreling towards him and the horse whenever he trained with the yearling. You took the lead rope of your Stakkato Gold son who you had nicknamed ‘Bucky’. It’d be easier to shout that across a meadow than his entire name each day. You lead them to their new pasture where other yearlings stood and after unhooking the ropes you both sat down to watch them get settled into their new herd.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Never say never - Chapter 13

Here's a new chapter of my main story (I forgot to go on posting lol)

Fandom: RPF- Richard Armitage

Characters : OC x RA

Rating : Mature

Warnings : RPF (and factually incorrect and very soppy)

°13° ­~Victoria~

She had expected questions and intrusive crowding, but her friends and their friends, sat motionless around the table still. Victoria saw that they had unpacked every single book and movie she had bought and put them into piles, though she could not discern the logic governing the separate piles.

“Have a nice chat?” Liza asked after a moment of Victoria just standing in the door, wordless, chewing on her lower lip.

Victoria, in turn, gave an assenting grunt and handed Martin back his phone with a grateful smile.

“More information, please?” Angie demanded, crossing her legs, and putting her folded hands upon them like a school mistress ready to listen to the recitation of a particularly hopeless student. Victoria bristled.

She had to dig her heels into the floor to keep herself from turning around and fleeing the room. Adulthood somehow boiled down to the absence of the heavy, constraining hand at the back of her neck, and Victoria had a tendency to bolt every chance that she got. Afterwards, she always felt ashamed because she knew that she had not solved anything by just leaving a situation in which she felt uncomfortable, but she had not learned how to face her instincts and overcome them.

For her, it had always been a matter of being able to follow her reflexes or being forced to go against them.

It pained her to discover that her instincts were all wrong and, what was worse, not only did they neither soothe nor protect Victoria herself, no, they also usually ended up hurting someone else.

“We…we talked. I said he’s welcome to come here if he cares to. He said he’d help me set up any other furniture I might need.” She felt and sounded sheepish, Victoria knew, but she didn’t know how to make that very normal conversation sound like the outrageous exchange of dark confessions the others apparently expected.

“Oh, so I’ve been made redundant? And I had hoped you’d let me watch the movie with you.” Hiddleston winked at her.

Big breath, Victoria told herself, this was good, this was healthy, don’t run, stand your ground.

“You’re welcome here, little fairy-lord. You can come watch the movie with me.” She said in a tiny voice.

“Oh goodie good good, we have made piles of movies we want to watch along with you…on your fancy new TV…” Angie clapped her hands and, finally, Victoria understood the piles. “You naughty girl, you.” Liza laughed.

“Naughty?” Victoria blinked. She did not see why she would be naughty for watching movies. Had her father been right, and they corrupted the impeccable morals he had tried to instil in her? Were movies the devil’s dark corruption after all?

Martin had called it “porn”, she remembered, and a cold shiver ran down her spine.

“What are you talking about? Have I done something wrong?” Panic seeped into her voice now and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. She knew that Liza sometimes made crude jokes, but up to this point, she had never been the butt of these jokes.

“Liza!” Angie hissed, rushing to Victoria’s side to soothe her with shushing noises and tender caresses. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” She said, but Victoria could hear that she was lying, as noted before, Angie was a terrible liar.

“Yeah, low blow, I’m sorry. So, what else does Armitage say?” Liza lifted her hands apologetically and leaned back in her chair, knowing that Victoria would most probably shrink back from her if she was to approach right now.

“He wanted to go over some comments in the script with me. We might meet up if he finds the time. I gave him my number.” Victoria narrated in an emotionless voice; her mind still occupied by the accusation of being a naughty girl.

Angie threw a look at her wife that was so earth-shatteringly severe that Liza didn’t even dare make a face at that. Unfortunately, Jenna had not picked up on it and so, still snacking on the pizza crust, she asked: “Really? You gave him your number? Cute.”

Victoria stared at her for a solid 2 minutes; her mouth was bone-dry, and her tongue seemed to be glued to her teeth. She barely heard the warning hiss Angie gave her employee. Her head was spinning; she was entering territories of supposition and innuendo she was painfully unfamiliar with, and it scared her.

“Cute?” She gasped, feeling the tears of helpless perplexity burn behind her eyes, ready to spill over. Victoria had never given this number to any man, because the last time she had given a man her private telephone number, she had had another number, she had lived in another city, she had led a very different life.

“It’s not like that. It’s professional.” She tried to defend herself weakly. It was true, she had met that man twice in her life, and both times, it had been with Liza in the context of that ludicrous side-job she had accepted to keep busy.

On the other hand, she was a single woman and, as far as she knew, he was a single man. She was a recent divorcee; he had never been married. He had slept with a thousand and one nameless women in his life…and she had only ever had one sexual partner and had never expected having to think about another one.

“Fuck.” She cursed. There were no Saints that came to mind to call upon in this situation. She should have trusted her gut feeling and pull out of this whole story while she was ahead; she should have left this first evening right away and never return to that damn room. She should have kept her door closed tightly.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry…I’m sure that he knows that it’s strictly professional.” Jenna tried to calm her, but her eyes were wide and worried now.

“OH! Will he? I’ve invited the man into my home, haven’t I? Like Delilah to Samson, oh Lord…” Victoria groaned, all of her compounded trauma harrowing her to the brink of tears once again. What would he think of her? Did he believe that she wanted to throw herself at him like a common prostitute? Did he expect that? Would he be violent if she refused?

If he thought that her intentions had been indecent, surely, he would not try to contact her in any way or form, would he?

“Like…Vic, do you intend to seduce him and cut his magic…hair?” Liza mocked, but when she saw the expression Victoria’s face, she fell silent instantly. She waved Hiddleston and Martin aside, feeling that they should not draw attention to themselves.

“Vic,” she pleaded, “look at me, girl. It’s okay, you’re safe. It was a dumb joke, nothing more.”

Liza knew that she had gone too far too fast; Victoria was in her living room while it was dark outside, together with 4 people who were attracted to women and yet, she had only made the connection once Armitage had been mentioned.

Devout and faithful, Victoria had only ever known the man she had married, in the biblical sense, and it had been overzealous of her to believe that she might take another lover so easily. There were too many things to unravel before.

“What have I done?” Victoria sobbed and the dam broke; hot tears broke their way out of her system, and she cried pitifully for a few minutes straight, shaking so much that her teeth clattered as if she was standing naked in the snow.

“Victoria? Is there anything I can do for you? You can talk to me.” Hiddleston offered and his calm demeanour managed to pacify her enough to shake her head slowly. “I have acted abominably. I…just can’t do anything right.” She croaked.

“That is not true. You’ve been frightened and overwhelmed at first, but you’ve been a kind hostess tonight. We had fun this afternoon, didn’t we? What is it that upsets you so?” Hiddleston took her hands and brushed his thumbs lightly across them in slow, gentle circles.

“What does that poor man think of me now? He will believe I am completely insane!” Victoria lamented, tears still running down her cheeks in regular intervals. “No, he won’t. He’s not a monster. We all can see that you’ve been through some things, but we’re here to make it better. And, as you said, it’s strictly professional. I’m sure he knows that.”

Hiddleston exchanged a look with Martin. Richard knew, but that didn’t prevent him from maybe hoping that one day, it wouldn’t be so. As far as one could make any assumptions based on Victoria’s erratic behaviour, she seemed half scared to death that it might turn into something that wasn’t all that professional anymore as well.

“You’ve had a stressful day, why don’t we leave you alone? I’m surprisingly free the next few days, so if you want me to, I can swing by tomorrow and while I go have my picture taken, you can choose some more furniture. And then, we finish the movie? What about that?” He coaxed her into calming down until a puffy face and a pathetic hiccup were all that remained of her passionate outburst. “Yes, I’d like that. We can go have cakes in the afternoon?” Victoria replied.

It was easy to like Hiddleston, and that discovery surprised and amazed her. He was kind and unobtrusive; he had a good sense of humour, and, most importantly, she was in no way attracted to him.

Oh, he was glorious, there was no denying that, but he reminded her too much of that friend she had dreamt up as a child – when she had lain in bed, lonely as can be – to be in any way titillating to her. He made her wish that she wasn’t an only child; he made her long for siblings, for someone to go to for advice and solace.

Never would she look at him like Jenna did: with big, longing cow-eyes that were starry with wordless adulation.

Vic’s mind slammed on the brakes again. Jenna did stare at that man like he had literally just fallen from the sky and, when Vic had proposed to go to the tearooms, her breath had stumbled for a second there.

Jenna had a crush on Liza’s friend.

Victoria was utterly baffled. Were things that easy in the normal world? Did people just meet someone handsome and kind, and then allowed their heart to leap into their eyes? Victoria could not fathom being that brazen and reckless.

“He’s right. Let’s retreat. I’m sorry, Vic.” Liza shooed the others out of the room. “Good night, dear Victoria. Thanks for the pizza. I hope we can be friends now.” Martin spoke gently as if to a sick child or to a fretful mare.

“Sorry for being such a mess. Yes, sure we can be friends. Thank you so much for the poppets.” She picked them up gingerly as she followed the others out of the room and turned off the lights in the living room.

“Not the kind of plastic dick people usually keep next to their bed.” Liza mumbled under her breath, which made Victoria skewer her with a scandalised, speechless look. “Sorry, it was too good to miss out on. You know, because…”

Victoria lifted her eyebrows in an expression of annoyed impatience; the joke went completely over her head.

“Richard is abbreviated Dick. You know…” Liza wagged her head from side to side to make very clear that she was only making a very tasteless joke and not attacking Victoria in any way. “Funny.” Victoria commented, her face so stern and forbidding that she would have given Armitage and Macfadyen a run for their money.

“They will not be kept next to my bed…once I get the proper décor for them.” Victoria then snarled. “Décor?” Martin was interested by that comment, his hand on the doorhandle already but his face turned to Victoria, eager to hear how she would proceed.

“I guess I’ll have to go to the pet shop to get a proper set-up where they’d feel at ease.” Victoria shrugged.

“They’re inanimate dolls.” Liza cried out, horrified at the idea that her friend would procure a cave and a hobbit-hole for two toys. “They’re the only friends I have now.” Victoria shot back with a dark smile.

“Ah, come on. I love you, girl. You know that I love you, don’t you? I’d never want to do you harm.” Liza smiled warmly, hugging Victoria to her chest, and breathing in her warm, clean smell. “Go to bed.” She breathed and left.

And so, Victoria went upstairs with her poppets, laying them gently on the pillow next to hers before getting ready for bed. She brushed her hair and her teeth, applied creams and serums, and put her clothes in the laundry basket…only to return to an empty bedroom. For all anybody cared, she could have gone to bed dirty and dishevelled; nobody would ever have known.

Shaking her head, she dispelled those thoughts forcefully. She had made progress today, she had opened her home to other people, and she had taken two different, hasty, and informal meals with them. She was not sure that her friends were aware of the fact that she had never lived alone before in her life and that those experiences were completely new to her, but she felt the excitement of having had acquaintances over.

A couch, she would buy a proper couch for her little sanctuary so more people could come and enjoy movies with her.

She was on the right track, she could feel it, and so she fell asleep, her poppets next to her, with a blissful smile.

~Richard~

He was an idiot. He had nothing to do the next few days, but he had made it sound as if he was terribly busy.

She had assumed that, and he had been too proud to clear the misunderstanding up, which made it only fair that now, the ball was in his court, and he would have to contact Victoria to plan a…meeting.

He would not call it a “date”, because first of all, it wasn’t a date, and second, he didn’t want to play into the hands of Martin and Elizabeth who had been aiming for that kind of thing apparently.

She had sounded breathless but not as hostile as before tonight. She had given him her number and he couldn’t stop fidgeting with the paper; by now, he had saved her number in his phone and on his laptop, just in case that he reduced the poor note to dust by handling it so much.

What would he say though? Should he give her a call or just text? He had said he’d text her, but he wanted to be on the phone with her again; it seemed that they were doing alright on the phone even though she frequently checked out of the conversation to talk to other people.

By now, the others were certainly gone…No, he would not call her again when he had nothing new to tell her. He wondered if she would have reached out if she had his number; women were usually better at that than men.

Sexist, cool, he was going insane at a rapid pace. Pictures of her, kneeling on the floor and praying to her various saints to protect her from whatever it was that haunted her so, rose inside his mind; he wondered if she slept in long, flowing, weirdly anachronistic nightgowns or if she went to bed in an old ratty sweatshirt. Both had their own appeal.

God, it was late, and his mind was wandering in all the wrong directions. He would not think of her in bed, he had no reason or right to do so, she had not given him any cause or encouragement to take that path down a very slippery slope, but he could not forget the small moans he had caught now and again.

Of course, they might have been groans of exasperation and impatience, but even so, there was something within him, deep beneath the parts of his mind he had any control over, that had responded ferociously to the breathless sound.

Maybe, he should just get it over with and send her one of those texts that only informed her of his number…