#like this woman genuinely seems nice and well intentioned

[merlinsbed]

deeply concerned that my world health issues instructor linked to a penn and teller video on bitchute

like what was she doing on bitchute?? did she just google the clip and that was the first place it came up???? does she not know that bitchute is where right wing conspiracy theorists go when they get banned from youtube???????

ASKDJAKSD I JUST GOOGLED PENN AND TELLER BULLSHIT! AND ALL OF THE LINKS WERE FOR PARAMOUNT+ OR YOUTUBE HOW DID SHE END UP ON BITCHUTE????????????

[sunderwight]

Imagine how much Shen Yuan and Airplane would hate it if an actual PIDW fan transmigrated in too, though.

Like, one of the guys who genuinely loved the stallion novel harem-building aspects, the weird-yet-vanilla het sex, the willingness to throw the plot out of the door just to have yet another interchangeable woman throw herself at the hero. Someone who only ever had nice things to say in the comment section, who unironically referred to Airplane as a master storyteller, who bought some of the VIP chapters (if he liked the wife Bingge was destined to wed & bed), couldn't name any of the monsters or sex flowers or most of the male side characters, had a Xin Mo keychain and once commissioned fan art of Sha Hualing (favorite wife) looking sexy in a pin-up pose, and told Peerless Cucumber he was a weirdo who took things too seriously on more than one occasion.

I think he'd bother Airplane the most. Shen Yuan would be annoyed and tell him his taste was in his ass, but that's about it.

But Airplane? I think at first he'd be inclined to enjoy having an uncomplicated "fan" of his work turn up. This guy actually praises him! He has nothing but flattering things to say! It's like a dream come true! Except... well, Airplane himself is perfectly aware of the decisions he made in his writing and why (he sold out deliberately, not because he thought it would actually make for a better story -- say what you will about whether or not it's worth it, but the man knows what he's doing), and also I suspect kind of resents his own popular audience whenever he has to interact with them for more than minute.

After all, these were the patrons he had to appease and appeal to, the readers he had to worry about offending or alienating, the ones who were paying the bills but also would have vanished at the drop of a hat if he hadn't given them a steady supply of what they wanted. It's not the audience he actually desired, it's the one he decided not to offend in order to maximize profitability. Peerless Cucumber might be a pain in the ass, but he's a pain in the ass who picked up on the story that Airplane himself originally intended to tell, and wanted PIDW to actually be that. Which has gotta be kind of gratifying, in a roundabout way.

I think it would stress Airplane out to have someone approve of the things he himself didn't even approve of. Like on the one hand this guy seems to have only a good opinion of him, but on the other hand it's based entirely on a false impression and Airplane actually agrees way more with Cucumber's assessment of his writing, because he wrote it badly on purpose. Since the guy has a good opinion, that's something Airplane can potentially lose, and he'd be most likely to lose it by revealing the truth about his own creative intentions and his actual tastes and inclinations. A ticking time bomb of disapproval that could go off at any moment to who-knows-what effect.

He'd hate it. Eventually every time User No.3 came around he'd just be like:

[ID: A gif of Skeletor from Masters of the Universe gliding through a blue magical barrier and then reaching back to punch and shatter it. End ID]

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part two.

Friday evenings are typically spent in the comfort of your flat. Normally, you’re half paying attention to reruns of whatever shitty reality TV happens to be on and half scrolling through social media to keep up with the ever-fluctuating trends of content as per your job requirements, all the while eating your body’s weight in takeaway. It’s not the dream, but it’s certainly a dream.

Tonight, you plan on amending things to include going through the pictures of Bali’s stunning beaches that Lando’s been spamming you with throughout the day, but beyond that, you have no intentions of deviating further from your norm.

You’re actually really looking forward to it. Though you’d rather cut off your own hand than admit it to his face and give him new ammunitions to tease you with, you miss Lando during the winter breaks. So much of your year is spent having him nearby━ a near-constant presence buzzing with the inability to slow down let alone stop━ and when he isn’t around, the silence seems louder. There’s no one else who manages to annoy you the way he does, and it’s just not the same without him.

To make matters worse, between your new job, Lando’s travels, and the scheduling conflicts that have arisen in turn, you haven’t had a chance to catch up with him beyond a few back-and-forth messages about his current escapades. So you really, genuinely, truly are looking forward to it.

Garrett Ward throws a wrench into things.

You have mixed opinions of Garrett. He can be very sweet, and he’s gone out of his way to make you feel incredibly welcome in your first week with the Manchester City team. He makes good conversation and seems genuinely interested in what it is you’re doing, often asking questions about your equipment and process, which is a nice change of pace from most other clients you’ve worked with in the past who rarely give two shits about anything beyond the final product. But his reputation is… concerning.

Garrett Ward is infamous in English tabloids for being a notorious womanizer.

There are several articles that come to mind, but the most damning of which is from 2019, before his trade to Manchester City, detailing with very incriminating photos how he’d been seen entering a club with two women and then leaving just a few hours later with a completely different pair. You don’t want to assume he’s the same man now as he was back then, nearly a full five years ago, but you’ve been working in the sports industry long enough to know that athletes can have anyone and if they want then they will have anyone━ there is no shortage of temptation.

And you are not arrogant enough to assume you would be the outlier.

Which makes his interest in you feel less like friendly curiosity and more like something you need to be wary of.

It’s also why━ as you make the trek through the Etihad Campus car park━ you feel dread begin to pool in your stomach as you answer your ringing phone. “Hi, Garrett.”

“Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly, sounding like he hadn’t just seen you barely ten minutes ago in the weight room. “I meant to catch you before you left, but you were outta there so fast I wasn’t able to.”

And there’s probably a reason for that, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “Yeah, I usually try to be pretty quick about it.”

There’s an awkward pause left open as if he expects you to say more, and when you don’t he clears his throat. “Erm, well, I was actually just calling to see if, perhaps, you would like to grab dinner with me this evening.”

You don’t. At all. It’s one of the last things you would like to do. There are plenty of other hellish things you would willingly rather subject yourself to before sitting down and sharing a private meal with this man━ jumping into the Thames is one of them, and letting Lando drive you around on the autobahn in his Spider is another. Both could very easily result in death, permanent disfigurement, or any other number of horrible outcomes, but neither includes Garrett.

Your hesitating silence must be an answer enough for him, because he chuckles again and adds on quickly, “No strings attached, I promise. It’ll just be two friends getting dinner.”

All you want to do is get cozy on your couch in your pajamas with a kebab from the place down the street and watch pretty people deal with their pretty people problems on TV. You don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but apparently, some higher power does.

“I suppose that’d be alright then,” you agree tentatively, speeding through the stages of grief as you mourn the initial plans of your Friday evening━ the easy, simple, comfortable plans. “Shoot me a message with the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

“Awesome!” Garrett cheers. “See you later then.”

The peaceful silence that awaits you after you hang up feels like it’s mocking you. Too bad you can’t flip off silence.

“Look, the truth is, City is looking at trading me at the end of the season if I can’t clean my act up.” Garrett’s voice is quiet as he admits the reality of his future to you, but it breaks the silence of the world around you like a gunshot. “And not just loaning me out━” he adds, a twinge of something akin to anger noting his tone, “━but fully trading me. They’re saying that my image makes things too hard for them and the only way they’ll consider re-signing me is if I can either keep my name out of the tabloids or try to clean myself up.”

In Garrett’s defense, he technically did hold true to his promise of just two friends getting dinner. Things were actually going quite well, too. The restaurant was a little more high profile than you would’ve expected for a casual meal, but that can easily be passed off as the luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes of a pro athlete who can certainly afford it. Expenses of your meal aside, he’d been good company, asking after the ways of working in Formula One and then finding similarities in his football career that made it easy to chat about the struggles and stressors of professional sports.

But you can recognize that this is where it’s all beginning to go downhill.

He’s announced it completely out of the blue as you’re walking back to the garage where you’ve both parked your cars. On top of that, his pace slows and you’re forced to slow down as well to match it until you both eventually come to a halt in the middle of the pavement.

You feel for him, in all honesty. You understand the difficulties of contract negotiations and how easily they can fall apart. The fragility of Formula One contracts is its own special brand of tricky and you’ve seen many friends move on to other teams in the blink of an eye just as they’ve begun to settle down and make their mark where they are. You can’t say for certainty that you understand the mechanics of football contracts to the same degree, but you can imagine they have their own fragile fine print.

But the chill of a January night in Manchester is brutal, and you’ll be the first to admit that your outfit does not protect against it. You don’t really want to be having this conversation in general, because you’ve known Garrett for all of a week which makes you acquaintances at best, but you especially don’t want to be having it now, out here in the cold when all you want to do━ all you’ve wanted to do since this afternoon━ is curl up in something warm and comfortable and pretend the world outside your flat doesn’t exist for a few days.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me if I’m being honest, Garrett.”

He shrugs. “I just thought you might be able to help.”

You shove your hands in your pockets in a desperate attempt to keep your fingers from going more numb than they already are and shake your head at him. “I don’t know how exactly you think I can help you with that. I’m a photographer, not a PR officer.”

“My agent thinks it would be a good idea if I showed the media that I could hold down a steady relationship. Prove to them that I’ve changed my ways, and have matured.” He shrugs again, nonchalant despite being the one to bring this up in the first place.

“Have you?”

He makes a face, something between a flirty smirk and a suggestive wink, “Well, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Garrett.”

“Look,” he crosses his arms and levels you with a look that fills you simultaneously with more rage and annoyance than a single person has ever made you feel before. “It would just be for a couple of months, and then we could stage an amicable breakup and that would be that! It just has to be long enough to show everyone that I’m not the same as I used to be.”

You give him a look right back, hoping it conveys how appalled you are by his audacity. “Okay, but why me of all people? Christ knows you probably have a list of women in your contacts who would jump at the chance to pretend to date you for a few months.”

His face pinches up in disgust. “Yeah, but they’re all former hookups, and I mean, they’re kinda psycho about me to be fair. If I tried to end things, they’d probably go to the tabloids themselves and smear my name with the worst things they could come up with.” He shrugs again, and you’re starting to find that you hate it when he does so. “I need someone willing to just play along for the time being and who will be discreet when things are over.”

“And you think I’m that person?” You scoff. “You’ve known me for a week!”

Your voice echoes and it reminds you once again that you’re having this conversation in the middle of a random street in Manchester. It’s cold and dark, and you’ve been attempting to bite back your frustration since the moment Garrett called you. You’ve been as nice as you possibly can be for this man, shy of bending over backward to worship the very ground he walks on, and you’re so close to your limit that you think if he shrugs one more fucking time━

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, but you know how this industry works. So I know you can be trusted.”

You take a deep breath to try and retain what’s left of your quickly slipping composure, before you say, “Garrett, this goes beyond unprofessional. I could potentially get into a lot of trouble for this. You’re technically my co-worker, if not my client by proxy. It’s not a good look for me to be getting with the athletes I work with, considering my entire career is based on working with athletes.”

He makes a befuddled face as if asking what that has to do with anything. It occurs to you that he’s probably never had to worry about the ethics of hooking up with someone when most of the women who are interested in him would do everything in their power to spend a night by his side whether it’s morally just━ or legal, for that matter━ or not.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from being all cozy with that Nor-whatever guy,” he grumbles.

“What?”

“That driver,” he repeats. “You post him all over your socials, like, all the time.”

You tear your hands from your pockets and throw them up in the air, “Because that’s my job?!” The stupidity of the man before you is genuinely baffling. He’s been asking about your job all week long but the way he’s talking now makes it seem like he didn’t catch onto the fact that your entire career is centered around media and the creation of content made with the explicit intention of being shared.

“I am quite literally paid to take and post pictures of him per my contract with McLaren,” you continue. “And even if I wasn’t, he’s my best friend?! I’ve been working and traveling and spending the majority of my time with Lando since 2019 so of course I’m going to be close with him. Do you not post your mates every once in a while?”

“Yeah, but it’s different. All my mates are guys, so nobody thinks I’m dating any of them when I do it.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I cannot believe this right now. You know, for a moment, I briefly considered helping you. But you’re actually exactly the type of prick the tabloids say you are.”

He takes an intimidating step closer, and his voice drops an octave lower. “I would reconsider if I was you.” You’re not short, but Garrett isn’t either. He’s one of the tallest players on the Manchester City team, and the way you feel now with him staring you down makes you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his opponent on the pitch.

It’s fucking terrifying.

But you’re fucking livid, too.

Your jaw clenches and you bite out sharply, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he starts, “is that if you don’t help me, maybe I slip a word about something or other to my boss who slips a word to his boss who is, also, your boss, and suddenly, whoops!” He gives you a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that it makes you feel like your blood is literally boiling. “He’s not your boss anymore. In fact, nobody is your boss anymore, because your ‘slip in conduct’ was very inappropriate and made several players uncomfortable, which doesn’t look very good when trying to get jobs elsewhere in the industry.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Well,” he fucking shrugs. “When you say it like that, yeah. I guess I am.”

You cross your arms, your hands clenched into fists so tightly that you can feel your nails digging painfully into the flesh of your palms. “You’re a real bastard, you know.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, love.”

If only it were legal to kill a man━ Garrett Ward would be six feet under and picking worms from between his teeth.

You weigh your options, though. You’re not sure how much weight his word actually carries. For all you know, he could tell his boss, they could bring you in to discuss things, and then you could explain it all from your point of view. Garrett is a notorious flirt and you doubt it’s the first time he’s tried to pursue someone who isn’t interested in him. You doubt it happens very often, but it has to have happened at some point. Not to mention, his reputation regarding women is bad enough that Manchester City is already giving him an ultimatum, so you probably have a chance, and the worst-case scenario is that you amicably part ways with the team and that’s that.

But realistically there is a worse worst-case scenario, and it’s pretty damn close to what Garrett is threatening. Losing this side gig wouldn’t really be too much trouble. It would put a dent in your savings, and you’d have to be a bit better about how you ration out your groceries and other necessities around the flat, but losing your job at McLaren? Being blacklisted from the industry entirely? That’s life-destroying. You would lose everything━ all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to get where you are would be for nothing.

All because of a prick in sky blue.

“Fine,” you utter from between gritted teeth. “I’ll help you. But I won’t post you on my account. I won’t bring you home to my parents. I won’t go round to your flat and I certainly will not have you round to mind. You get one kiss to make it official to the paps, and then nothing more.” You take your own threatening step toward him, and a vindictive part inside you shines with malicious glee when he shifts ever so slightly backward. “If you try anything else, I will run to the papers and drag you through the mud worse than any of your little psycho groupies ever could.”

He scoffs, “You’d ruin your career.”

“But I’d tear you down with me,” you reply.

He takes a moment to think, staring into your eyes and weighing how serious you are. Whatever he sees staring back at him must be convincing enough because he sniffs, nods, and smirks.

“Deal.” He leans down, “I think I’ll be taking that kiss now. Make sure to really sell it, yeah?”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre

━━ a/n: i feel like i say this every time, but i am seriously blown away by how well the first part of this was received! like, seriously, thank you so much for the kind words everyone said about it! hopefully this second part lives up to the hype of the first, it's a little denser, but the events are important to establish for the rest of the story so it needed to happen!

[princessmisery666]

Just Don't Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending. 

W/C: 4,776.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.

A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own. 

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day. 

Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”

You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again. 

“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him. 

“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.” 

“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.

Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.

If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.

“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours. 

“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will. 

“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.

You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise? 

They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.

“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later. 

“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.

Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.  

“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”

“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.

Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.” 

“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?” 

“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.” 

“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”

Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”

“But if I can do more…”

“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”

“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”

“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”

“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”

“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”

It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension. 

“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.” 

He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.

“Good to know,” you say.

You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first. 

“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both. 

“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”

“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play. 

“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.” 

“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests. 

Dean nods, “lead the way.”

When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.

“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks. 

“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.” 

He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.” 

“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”

“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”

“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh. 

“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.” 

You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.  

“That hurt?” he asks. 

“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”

He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.” 

The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.

“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.

“Anytime,” you smile. 

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.

He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”

Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial. 

He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.

Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.

If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s. 

You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.

You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.

“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.

You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.

He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him. 

Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone. 

“Hey, hi,” you answer. 

“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?” 

“Yeah, sure, okay.” 

“You okay?” 

No. Yes.

Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.” 

“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.

“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine. 

He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.” 

He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.” 

“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.” 

Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”

Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”

“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.” 

He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.” 

“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”

He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”

“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?” 

He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.

He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”

He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better. 

Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.

The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair. 

Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.

You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”

His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.” 

“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.” 

“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.

“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.

You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes. 

“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard. 

You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.” 

“They seem like a good bunch.” 

“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”

His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”

You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.

Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.

It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.

He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door. 

“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“

“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”

He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”

You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.

Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.

Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you. 

The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.

It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.

Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them. 

The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.

He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.

You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.

He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction. 

Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls. 

“Hey,” you greet brightly.

The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.” 

“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”

He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?” 

“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”

“I can wait.” 

“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer. 

He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.  

“Okay, got it,” You laugh.

Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.

He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?” 

“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own. 

Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you. 

“Maybe we should take this inside.”

“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.

He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.

“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.

“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you. 

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.” 

“Good for them.” 

You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards. 

He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.

It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong. 

You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”

He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.

You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you. 

He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…” 

“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.

“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”

You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.” 

He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly. 

“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away. 

He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again. 

“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”

He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return. 

Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”

He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop. 

He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.

“Dean, please,” you call from the door. 

He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.

Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

[xjustakay]

✺ (4/5) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: slap — 1,630 words (dad james and librarian regulus - flirting edition; pt.1)

It’s become a habit over the course of a couple of months. 

James takes Harry to the library more than Lily does these days. It was a simple ‘the library is closer to my place anyway, no sense in going out of your way when you don’t have to, Lils’ that he’d offered as his reasoning. Of course, he knows Lily isn’t stupid. She likely sees right through him, but she’s yet to say anything or try to slap some sense into him, so he’s taking the small favor for what it is.

Harry, in all his six year old excitement to visit one of his favorite places, remains oblivious to there being any other intention to their trips to the library. And really, James is glad that he gets to do this with Harry —it’s not completely selfishly oriented that he suggests they go. Harry loves reading, loves exploring different fictional worlds on page, loves getting new books suggested or read to him when they’re there.

It’s just that, well. James is reaping some additional benefits, that’s all.

Except, they’re not exactly benefits, because while seeing Regulus is its own treat, the two of them still seem to be dancing in circles around each other. Some days James isn’t sure if he’s picking up on genuine signs or simply concocting them for himself —a story with a happy end that he’s telling himself in his head like the ones he reads to Harry before bed.

He feels a little crazy, admittedly, cataloging their interactions like it’s his job, like every little thing potentially means something. It’s like he’s got a schoolboy crush all over again at the age of twenty-seven. But if there’s one thing in this world that James Potter seems to be good at, it’s romanticizing that which may in the end mean very little.

Still, he’s got his list. 

A story time in the children’s room one week where Regulus, in the middle of answering and asking questions of the kids about the book he’d read them, had stolen more than a couple glances James’ way at the back of the room. Days where grey eyes brightened upon looking away from greeting Harry to find that James was the one that brought him to the library that day. Questions about what James does for work and for fun, or what sort of thing James likes to read, followed by book recommendations.

James has also noticed, though, that every time he sees Regulus, as much as there’s something lingering there between the two of them, there’s something else, too. 

Regulus always asks about Lily. Asks how she’s doing, what she’s been up to, if Harry read his most recent check-outs with her. There had even been a day where James and Harry had come up to the counter to check out Harry’s new selection of books and Regulus had pointed out that he’d held onto a book specifically for Lily, remembering she had been waiting a while for it to be available.

And sure, maybe it’s just that Regulus met Lily first, that he’s nice and is considering Harry’s mum even when she’s not there, but… Just as he’s over-thought every one of their own interactions, James can’t seem to help overthinking this, as well.

In a rather rare turn of events, James is at the library today without Harry. Harry’s at his mum’s, but he’d left his books at James’ place. A borderline distraught phone call had been received that morning, Harry lamenting ‘I can’t have overdue books, dad! I’ve never had overdue books!’ Lily doesn’t have time today to come pick them up and bring Harry to take care of them, so James had promised to turn them in for him.

It works out perfectly that when he enters with the few books tucked under his arm and approaches the front desk, Regulus is the one sitting there. One person is in line in front of James, but he notices how Regulus clocks him walk up behind the woman, an unhelped twitch at the corner of his mouth. He says a polite thank you and wishes a good day to her before it’s James’ turn.

Regulus tilts forward to peek over the edge of the high desk, his brow creasing. “Where is he?”

James lets out a quiet laugh. “So sorry that I’m not enough for you, Regulus.”

“Oh, shut up.” He rolls his eyes but James doesn’t miss the pretty pink color his cheeks turn even as he tries to distract from it by wiggling his fingers for the books James holds. “You just don’t usually come alone, that’s all.”

James hands over the books, his grin inching wider. “I can come alone more often if you want me to. Just say the word.”

Regulus huffs an unsteady laugh, cheeks reddening even more. He won’t meet James’ eye as he starts scanning book barcodes and entering return dates. It’s quiet for a few long moments, Regulus doing his job and avoiding James’ gaze while James continues watching him in fond amusement.

After the pause has gone on for a bit, Regulus ends up asking, “Is Lily no longer going to be bringing Harry in?”

Ah, there it is.

James sucks his teeth and shakes his head. “No, I’m sure she’ll be around again. She’s just—been a bit busy with work and such.”

“I see.” Regulus nods, glancing up from scanning a barcode to flicker his gaze over where James stands. “Well, at least Harry’s got you to bring him, right?”

“Right.” It comes out shorter than he meant it to, and Regulus notices if the arch of one dark brow is anything to go by. He doesn’t know why he says it, doesn’t know why the thought even crosses his mind, but before he can stop himself, James offers, “I can give you her number, if you’d like?”

Regulus slows in setting the returned books aside. “Why would I need Lily’s number?”

“I just—assumed you were interested.” James shifts from one foot to the other.

A comically confused expression twists up Regulus’ features. “In Lily?”

James blinks. “Um, yes?”

“You think I’m interested in Lily?” Regulus repeats; he looks less confused now, more as if he’s barely containing his own laughter.

“Well, you ask about her all the time!” James points out, a touch too loud —there’s a quiet shushing in warning from another librarian further down the desk that earns an apologetic look from him.

“James.” Regulus can’t seem to help laughing this time, has to press a hand over his mouth for a moment, eyes pinching closed and head shaking as he collects himself. When he’s done so, he clasps his hands together on the desk in front of him and meets James’ eye evenly. “Did you ever think, maybe, the reason I ask about what Lily’s up to and if she’ll be coming around again is because when she doesn’t, it means that you do?”

It’s James’ turn to look confused, a disbelieving huff coming out of his mouth. “And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, just tell me that you like seeing me?”

“I could have, I suppose.” Regulus leans back in his swivel chair, arms crossing over his chest. The corner of his mouth ticks upward, eyes shining with mirth. “But you were already being so painfully obvious, I thought at least one of us should be a little more subtle.”

James manages to make an affronted noise, but it’s almost more startled laugh than actual offense. “You’re fucking with me right now.”

“Language, mister Potter.” (James is decidedly not blushing at the joking admonishment, thank you.) “This is a family friendly establishment.”

He lifts his hands in mock surrender, grin stretching wide across his face. Regulus eyes him for a moment, drumming his fingers against the bend of one elbow.

“Well, now that we’ve cleared that up—”

“Have we?” James snorts.

“I’m not interested in Lily, you’ve been hopelessly interested in me from day one. I think we’re clear,” Regulus confirms.

Hazel eyes narrow in playful challenge. “You’re just as interested in me, too, don’t forget that.”

An absent hum. A tilt of his head. “And what are you going to do about it?”

It’s an excellent question, James wasn’t prepared to get this far today. He wasn’t totally positive he’d ever get this far, if he’s honest. Now that opportunity has arisen, however, he’s not foolish enough to waste it.

“What are you doing Saturday night?” He asks, leaning his forearms against the edge of the desk.

“I don’t know. Where are you taking me?” Regulus quips, dark brows lifting.

“I think I’ll keep it a surprise. Can’t be too obvious now, can I?” James toys.

Rolling his lips together barely hides Regulus’ growing smile. He hums once again, nodding in agreement. James thinks that’s it, that they’ll say goodbyes for now and go the next few days in building anticipation for an awaiting first date. Except, Regulus holds up a finger to tell him to wait and wordlessly slides off his chair to go to one of the shelves behind him used for reserved books. 

When he turns back around, he drops another of the Magic Treehouse books Harry’s been so invested in as of late onto the counter with a quiet slap. James glances at it then at Regulus again with an incredulous smile.

“It’s the next one in the series for Harry. We only have one copy on hand. I didn’t want him to not be able to get it when he brought his returns in,” Regulus explains.

“No wonder he likes you so much, you spoil him,” James teases.

Regulus smirks and, without missing a beat, he replies, “And what’s your excuse?”

[irkimatsu]

I love your Husk works! Could you please write one where fem!reader gets along with everyone and Husk doesn't even realize that he's catching feelings, but maybe on a night out with everyone, someone comes up and starts heavily flirting with her. Ends with confessions and sugary sweet tooth rotting fluff please. 😍

God damn, anon, do you have any idea how hard it is to wring a confession out of this man? I was going along at a steady pace and then I got stuck for hours! I genuinely hope you like slowburn, because Husk doesn't go from zero-to-love easily. I think he's gotten a nice start here, though. It's definitely fluffy!

Husk/Fem!Reader starting a relationship. Mentions of drinking and attempted sexual assault that Husk interrupts before things get too heavy. SFW, 2.8k words. Enjoy! I hope this is what you had in mind, anon! Thank you so much for reading my works!

Your first few months staying at the Hazbin Hotel have gone quite smoothly; as smoothly as anything there can ever go, anyway. Charlie took an instant liking to you - she takes an instant liking to everyone, so it’s nothing special, but still. She can be a bit overbearing, but you know she means well, and she’s grateful to have someone who doesn’t immediately write off her trust exercises from the start.

Still, after all the sharing circles and art therapy, you occasionally find yourself craving more “adult” fun, and that’s where Angel and Cherri come in. It’s not that you don’t want to be redeemed, but what could be so sinful about enjoying yourself a little? You’re not doing anything dangerous or drastic, no drugs and no getting involved with the wrong people; you’re just having fun drinking, dancing, maybe smashing up some abandoned property if the opportunity strikes. Charlie can’t get mad at destruction if no one cares about the thing you just blew up, right?

The bartender, Husk, isn’t nearly as keen on those nights on the town, but you’ve still managed to bond with him on nights where you prefer to stay in. He’s a surprisingly good listener underneath his gruff exterior. (Perhaps too good of a listener; you hope he keeps ignoring whatever bullshit you might have spouted off after one too many of his cocktails.) He also has plenty of stories of his own, mostly from the time he spent alive. When you could get him talking, he’d weave incredible tales of nightlife, both from his home city in Las Vegas and all the other places he’d visited in his life. He seemed especially wistful when talking about a woman he knew back then. He could talk for hours about all the famous sites he was able to take her to, all the songs he would sing for her, and all the starry skies he’d dance with her under.

“It’s not like I blame her for leaving. I’m the one who screwed it up. But being in love… it was nice while it lasted.”

You try to encourage him with the hope that he could fall in love again, but he shakes his head with a bitter smile.

“I lost the ability to love years ago.”

—-

Your friendship with Angel and Cherri is so different compared to your friendship with Husk, so it took a few months before you could have a night out with all three of them. Charlie is once again less enthused about the idea of you four going out to party, but you promise to be relatively well behaved.

You promise, anyway. You can’t make promises for Angel’s sake, and as much as you love her, you know better than to have any faith in Cherri.

You’re surprised Husk agreed to come to a sex club at all. He never seemed like the type to be into that sort of thing. You’re less surprised to see that he has no intention of flirting with anyone and is instead perfectly happy to sit by the wall and knock back shots as quickly as the bartender can pour them.

Couldn’t he drink himself stupid back at the hotel, though? Why did he even come?

Is it just you, or has he been watching you the whole night?

The hours tick by, and you, Angel, and Cherri become progressively more wasted. Angel is currently hanging off of a muscular bull demon - damn, good for him - while Cherri tells you about another resident who used to stay at the hotel before he tragically lost his life during the last extermination.

“He was such a fucking idiot that it was charming, ya know? God damn I should have gotten to know him better when he was still around! I heard this rumor about him and never even got to find out if it was true!”

As she speaks, Cherri catches sight of a cobra demon who is currently chatting up a cluster of punk girls.

“Well, damn… maybe I’ll get to find out tonight. Don’t wait around for me, I’ll find my way back!”

With that announcement, Cherri is gone, leaving only you and Husk with about a dozen bar stools between you. He’s definitely keeping an eye on you; there’s still liquid in his glass, and  he’s watching you instead of guzzling it.

What’s his deal? If he wants to spend the night with you, why doesn’t he just come over here? You decide not to go over there yourself; no sense in rewarding him if he’s playing mind games.

You instead turn your attention to a handsome wolf demon who has taken Cherri’s seat. “Drinking all alone, love?” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter. Right away this man gives you the air of a natural-born charmer who can win anyone’s trust within seconds, only to break their hearts within hours.

He’s hot, and you’re drunk. You’ll let him break your heart a little.

Your conversation starts normally enough, with low stakes topics like the music and the drink selection in the bar. You’re in no hurry to tell this man anything personal or leave this spot with him, but you’re enjoying looking at him and hearing him enough that you don’t mind being a bit of entertainment.

He bumps your knee with his at one point, but you pull your own knee away. At first he seems to take the hint, and time passes without any more advances.

Soon, however, he grows more bold.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else, baby?” he asks as he lightly squeezes your thigh. “Somewhere more private?”

“No thanks,” you say as you jerk your leg away, though the motion doesn’t make him let go. “I’m fine talking here.”

“You know this is a sex club, don’t you?” he says. His smile and voice haven’t changed, but somehow he seems much slimier than he did five minutes ago, and the strong paw gripping your leg that seemed so enticing in your head feels suffocating in reality.

“I’m not here for that, I’m just hanging out with friends-” You try to leave the stool, but the man throws his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in.

“Come on, babe! What did you think I was after by chatting you up like this? You’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” He’s holding you closely enough that his hot breath is hitting your face, and the stench of his cologne is making you gag. “C’mon, baby, I’ll show you a good time. You won’t regret this-”

“She said no.” Husk had somehow snuck his way to your side without you noticing, and was now glaring daggers at your pursuer. “Back off.”

“Who are you, her grandpa?” the wolf laughs, refusing to unhand you. “Or just a nasty old man who likes ‘em young?”

Your captor’s laughter is quickly interrupted by a high-pitched howl. His face is now adorned with four jagged, bleeding lines.

“What the fuck, old man?” he yells as he unhands you. Just as quickly as you’re unhanded, you’re grabbed again, this time by Husk grabbing your waist and pulling you away.

“I knew I fucking hated this place,” he growls. “Where are Cherri and Angel?”

You have no idea, but your first guess has you looking toward the sex rooms in the back of the club.

“Jesus Christ… they’ll find their own way home. Come on, we’re going back to the hotel.”

You don’t appreciate being dragged out of the club like a misbehaving child, but as the alcohol clouds your thinking, you can’t quite formulate a protest.

Considering how pissed off your admirer must be right now, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t stay.

—

The walk back to the hotel is blurry; if Husk had anything to say to you besides pissed off obscenities muttered beneath his breath, you don’t remember it. Your next memory finds you laying on the couch in the lobby, your head aching from a combination of a hangover and the time spent laying on the couch’s arm with your neck at a weird angle.

“What time is it…?” you murmur as your eyes try to adjust.

“About noon,” answers Husk from the bar. 

As you continue to look around the lobby, he appears to be the only one here. “Where is everyone?” you ask through a yawn.

“Angel and Cherri still aren’t back, but I’m sure they’re fine. Charlie and Vaggie left to give you some quiet. Alastor and Niffty…” Husk shrugs after their names, then falls silent.

You groan as you push yourself into a sitting position, one that has you facing Husk. He doesn’t appear to have anything to do, and is instead standing with his chin resting on his crossed arms atop the bar. An awkward silence falls between the two of you, giving you plenty of time to observe Husk’s body language, particularly the way his tail is lashing behind him while his ear gives the occasional twitch.

He is not in a good mood.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Your well-meaning question only seems to piss him off further; he answers not with a word, but with a growl. “Is this about last night?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“I’m sorry I caused you trouble…”

“Wasn’t your fault.” His tail lashes even harder. “Just don’t worry about it, all right?”

You’re going to keep worrying about it until he stops looking so on edge.

“Thanks for getting me away from that guy last night,” you say, just in case you didn’t thank him in your drunken haze.

“Hey, it’s what a good bartender does. When you see someone starting shit with another patron, even if it’s not your bar, you take care of the problem. That fucker had no right to put his hands on you after you told him to cut it out.”

He may be gruff, but at least he has standards.

“Can’t believe Cherri and Angel left you alone in there… those two better not take you to anymore fucking sex clubs, you don’t need to be around shit like that…”

“I’m a grown adult,” you protest. “I didn’t want to sleep with that guy, but if I did want to get with someone at that club, that’s my business.”

Husk’s eyes widen for a moment, before he returns to his original dour expression. “Yeah… guess you’re right.”

“And what about you? You didn’t look interested in picking up anyone last night. Why’d you even come?”

“How do you know I wasn’t interested?” he shoots back. “Maybe I was interested in someone! Maybe I just… didn’t have the balls to go for it.” He stands up straight and shakes his head. “Look, can we drop this? Hang out in sex clubs if you want, I don’t fuckin’ care.”

He’s speaking with the tone of voice of someone who very much cares.

“I’m done with ‘em, though. You’re right, you’re an adult, you don’t need me hanging around like some fuckin’ guardian angel.” He pours a glass of clear liquid, and you expect him to down it himself, but he instead steps out from behind the bar still holding the full glass. “I overreacted last night. Shouldn’t have made it your fuckin’ problem.” He approaches the couch, takes a seat, and offers you the glass. “Here, one last favor. Drink this and I’ll get off your ass.”

You take the cup, wondering if for some ungodly reason he’s trying to get you to down straight vodka.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s water. That headache’s only gonna get worse if you’re dehydrated.”

You take a sip of the water, and after only a few swallows you’re already regaining a bit of your desire to live. “Thanks,” you say before taking another large gulp.

“No problem,” he responds. You expect him to return to the bar, but he remains next to you on the couch. His body language has gotten no less agitated. What is going on with him?

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you doting on Angel or Cherri like this,” you observe before finishing the glass.

“They’re used to it, and they’ve got each other,” he says as he takes the glass from you. “You want some more?”

You shake your head, and he remains seated with the glass.

“You, though… I don’t know, something about that guy just pissed me off,” he says. “Even before he started touching you I didn’t like him. Bartender’s intuition, maybe? I’m still not over the awful feeling he gave me.” He sighs heavily. “I just… hate the idea of seeing you get hurt in a place like that. I know Angel and Cherri can take care of themselves, but you’ve never seemed as wild as they do, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Is that why you were watching me the whole night?” you asked.

Husk’s body jolts. “Shit, you noticed?”

“I kept looking over there wondering if you’d ever move from that spot, and if you weren’t actively drinking you were staring at me,” you said. “You weren’t subtle.”

Husk groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I know you’re capable. I was just…”

“You weren’t there because you were interested in someone at all, were you?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I mean it when I said I just didn’t have the balls to say anything to ‘em. Instead, I just wondered… what I’d do if someone else asked ‘em. Knowing it’d be my own damn fault for not speaking up sooner. Trying to tell myself it wasn’t that big a deal if they went with someone else… until someone started flirting with ‘em, and touchin’ ‘em, and-” His body tenses as he growls, but relaxes after a moment. “Damn it, I haven’t had to do this in years...”

“Done what?”

“You know what I said about losing my ability to love years ago?” He turns his head and looks directly at you for the first time since he sat down. “...I think I’m remembering how to do it again.”

Things are starting to fall into place. “And the person who helped you remember is…?”

The slightest of smiles crosses his face. “Who do you think?”

You wouldn’t have guessed it before today, but it all seems so obvious in retrospect. He’d spent so many nights with you when he could have been in bed, just chatting with you or comforting you after a bad day. You’d really grown so fond of his smile, and Angel had told you before that he used to never smile.

But surely, you thought, he couldn’t have been smiling because of you…

“What am I even saying?” he asks as he turns away from you. “You died in the prime of your life, and down here you can have that prime forever. You could do so much better than a washed up old drunk.”

“You’re not washed up,” you assure him as you place your hand over his. “I think it’s great that you got to live such a full life! You have so many stories to tell, and so many talents… I bet there’s so much you haven’t told me yet.” You try to reassure him with a smile and a light squeeze to his hand. “So much you haven’t shown me, either. You talk a lot about when you were in a band, but I’ve never gotten to hear you play…”

“I haven’t touched an instrument in years,” he says. “I bet I don’t even remember how to play anymore.”

“Well, you don’t know if you don’t try, right?”

You don’t think you’re just saying that about instruments.

“It’s been such a long time… what if I screw up?”

You don’t think he’s just talking about instruments either.

“It can’t hurt to try. Maybe… maybe you’ll enjoy it even more than you remember.”

“Hmm…” He doesn’t seem fully at ease, but he hasn’t taken his hand back yet. “If I can get my hands on a saxophone, and I really haven’t forgotten how… sure. I’ll play for you.

…you just have to give me some time, okay? I’m not used to it anymore… especially with another person…”

“Take all the time you need,” you assure him.

He turns his hand around so he can hold yours back, and his smile seems to grow slightly. “Just gotta start slow… get used to things again…”

“You’ll be fine, I know you will,” you assure him. He seems content to leave the conversation there, but there’s one more thing you need to say. “Husk?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’ll be going back to that club. No point when I’m not interested in picking up dates anymore.”

He squeezes your hand. “Glad to hear it.”

[ichatake]

Hello! I'd love to see Naruto with a reader that is either a single mama to a 1 yr old girl or a nanny to a 3 yr old and a 1 yr old who are VERY attached to her. Please and thank you!

Naruto with a single mother S/O

Requests are open! (Request rules)

Naruto was loved by many in the village, especially the kids. They saw him as a hero and admired him so much, so you can imagine that he frequently visited the Academy to see the kids. Being in his early twenties, he was still nowhere near having a relationship with anyone (Not even Hinata).

I wouldn’t say the boy was desperate, but he really wanted someone to love! Sure, there were a few kunoichi out there that really liked him, but he didn’t find them genuine—and they were a little too much for him to handle.

Anyways, on one of his visits to the Academy, he got to meet the sweetest children he ever got to know. They were so happy to see him, especially a little girl in particular. Her round cheeks and big smile made his heart warm.

“You’re my hero mister Naruto,” she exclaims, hugging his leg in pure happiness.

He chuckles and kneels down, patting her head—making her hair ruffled and messy. This earned him a giggle from the girl as he looked at her, “Thank you, what’s your name, huh?” he asks with a big grin.

“(D/N)” she answers, her eyes bright as he looks at her face to face. See, this was your daughter. Ever since she was born just a few years ago, she always admired Naruto. You told her stories about him—since the young man has done so much during his twenty five years of life. You couldn’t admit it, but you admired him just as much as your daughter did.

“That’s such a pretty name, you know?” he chuckles as the other kids surround him. He spent all day with them. Even if he didn’t get much free time, he didn’t mind spending it like this.

When it was time to leave, he waited by the door to say goodbye to the kids as they were picked up by their parents. He watched as a young woman finally arrived, holding onto a smaller child. She looked tired, but her face immediately brightens up when she saw her daughter.

The same girl that had been so interested in him ran up to her—to you.

“Mommy!!” the little girl exclaims, running and hugging your leg tightly, ��Look mommy, I met Naruto!! My hero!!” she points at Naruto as he tenses up and grins with red cheeks, “Heya,” he waves his hand at you.

“Oh, that’s really nice,” you smile gently, waving back at him, “It’s so nice he spent his day off here,” you say and he shook his head, walking a little closer to you, “Oh, it’s nothing really. Your daughter is a wonderful kid,” He says as your daughter seemed to jump in glee.

“Thank you,” you smile, the smaller child that sat in your arms watched Naruto intently. He was no older than a year, but he still looked like a baby. “I see you have another one,” he chuckles and smiles at your baby boy, “They look just like you,”

“I get that a lot,” you giggle and bow your head, “Well, it’s been a pleasure. I think this day is definitely the best day ever for my daughter. She really is your biggest fan. It was really nice to meet you”

After that interaction, Naruto couldn’t stop thinking of you. After you left, that’s when he noticed how gorgeous you were. Your smile was just beautiful, and the way you treated your kids was so gentle and kind. He kind of wanted to see you again. And so he went back to the academy.

He didn’t really know if you were married—he’d assume so, since you had two kids, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to see you. He felt a little guilty, he didn’t want to bud into a relationship. He didn’t want to be a homewrecker! But that was just Naruto overthinking things, since he barely knew you… for now.

Because the more he went to the academy, the more he got to see you. And the more he got to see you, the more he learnt about you. He had already lost count of how many times he frequented the academy just to see you, and you were certainly catching up to what he was doing.

When you brought it up, he tried to avoid it saying that he just really loved teaching kids techniques. You knew this was a lie because the kids were barely pass the age of six. Either way, you enjoyed his company and so did your daughter.

As more time passed, he found out you were a single mother of two. You left a not-so-good relationship and ended up with the task of taking care of two kids all by yourself.

First of all, Naruto admired you. You were so strong to keep yourself up. You must’ve been stressed and heartbroken, and yet you still managed to take care of your kids. He loved that about you.

Something inside him actually switched instantly when hearing the news. If it was obvious he was interested in you then, now it was super obvious. He didn’t try to hide it. All to the point where he ended up asking you out on a date. And to his surprise, it went well. No, it went great. Both of you bonded over similarities. Both told happy and sad stories, You two got to know each other on a deeper level.

It was a matter of time until you were head over heels for him. And he was for you. Your daughter was already asking if Naruto could be her dad, in FRONT of him.

“(D/N) you can’t go around saying Naruto is your dad!” you say with flushed cheeks as your daughter expresses herself. “But I want Naruto to be my daddy!” she whines and holds onto Naruto’s leg.

“I’m so sorry, she—,”

“It’s okay, I mean, I can be your daddy if your mommy lets me,” he says with pink cheeks. Your heart almost stopped at his words and you couldn’t even speak. This made him nervous and he started to apologize in panic.

“Im sorry, I shouldn't’ have said that—I’m so stupid—”

“I certainly don’t mind,” you finally said, a gasp falling out of his mouth. Then, a grin spread across his face as grew happier each second. This was the beginning of a new chapter for you, and a blossoming love story.

[smartycvnt]

My Boo

Title: My Boo Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader Summary: Bruce runs into his first love at a party. NR WC: 1097

"And just like Bruce Wayne's homecoming had been the herald of headlines, Y/n Y/l/n's homecoming brings the party of the century for Gotham City. I am Vicki Vale, signing off for the night." Y/n stood back as she waited for the cameraman to go back to the news van. Vicki turned around and smiled at her old friend. Y/n had been out of the city for a little over a decade, having left around the same time that Bruce Wayne had. Vicki rushed over to Y/n and kissed her cheeks like they had whenever they were teenagers. "As happy as I am to see you, I'd love to know why you came running back. I thought you were having a good time in Los Angeles."

"All good things have to come to an end," Y/n said casually. Vicki knew that it was loaded. She had read the news and heard the rumors about Y/n's failed marriages and being ousted from the entertainment company she had helped found with her former husband. Everybody had expected Y/n to bounce back though, just like she had time and time again. She was the woman who had watched her first love run off to Asia to find himself and then proceeded to marry the biggest superstar in the world just a year later.

"Well, come on, everybody is dying to see you," Vicki said. Y/n smiled as she allowed herself to be dragged into her own party. Y/n had earned herself a reputation like that of Gatsby for throwing lavish parties in LA and now showing up to them. There was a certain standard with people like her, and Y/n did what she needed to in order to live up to it. Personally, she didn't see the point of flaunting her money around, but the tabloids ran wild with speculation whenever she didn't. The money was nice and allowed her to do the things that she wanted to, but she wished that it hadn't come with the fame of being one of Gotham's "founding families."

Y/n stuck to Vicki for the majority of the night. The two of them had once been thick as thieves when they were younger, and Y/n had missed having that friend around whenever she was in California. Gotham had never been the easiest place to live in, but at least most of the friends she had made felt genuine. Los Angeles was full of people who wanted something from her. Gotham had its fair share as well, but they went about it in a different way. Y/n would have rather had someone be direct about what they wanted from her instead of just cozying up next to her with false intentions.

"Excuse me, do you think that I could borrow Y/n for a moment?" Y/n didn't like the look on Vicki's face as Bruce Wayne approached them. Y/n may have been out of the city, but she hadn't been living under a rock. She knew all about Bruce and Vicki's little thing while she had been away. Bruce had always been someone who Vicki was curious about, and Y/n thought they could have made a good couple if it wasn't for their own ambitions. It was the same line of thinking that had kept her out of Gotham for all those years after Bruce returned.

"Of course," Vicki agreed. Y/n watched as her friend walked away, leaving the two former lovers alone by the bar. Well, as alone as the two of them could be at such a populated event. Y/n waited patiently for Bruce to say something, but it seemed that despite his reputation, he hadn't moved too far from being the same awkward young man he had been before. Physically, he looked like a completely different person. He wasn't nearly as slender as he once had been. Bruce's poorly tailored suit jacket couldn't hide the way that his shirt strained as it stretched across his chest. Y/n knew Bruce better than to think that it was anything other than muscle underneath those clothes.

"Bruce, what are you doing?" Y/n asked him. Bruce looked surprised by the question. There were a hundred different things that he had expected Y/n to say to him, but that wasn't one of them.

"I'm checking in on a friend, hopefully apologizing while I'm at it," Bruce told her. Y/n shook her head as she wrapped her fingers around his tie.

"That's not what I mean. You're different, and not in the same way as when you came back from Asia. I can see it on your body and in your eyes," Y/n said as she tugged him down to her level. Bruce swallowed nervously as Y/n's eyes stared holes right through him. "But if you want to pretend for tonight that we're just old friends, go right ahead. I'll invite Vick over and we can drink ourselves stupid like we used to."

"You know, there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think about you," Bruce said. Y/n turned away from him and flagged the bartender down for a drink. "Even after I came back and heard you married those assholes. I shouldn't have left without talking to you first."

"So glad that it only took you fifteen years to realize that Bruce, truly," Y/n said sarcastically. Bruce sighed as she placed his hand on the small of her back. "I kept waiting for you to come back, and then you did, but you never came to find me. I kept waiting for you to whisk me away back to Gotham, to save me from nightmare after nightmare before I finally fucking gave up. That's what I get for thinking you were going to be my hero."

"I'm not a hero." Bruce hung his head in shame.

"It's okay, I don't think I'm meant to be with anybody else," Y/n told him. She gave him a sad smile before she downed her drink as if it was a shot. "I never loved anybody like I loved you."

"Do you think that you could still love me?" Bruce asked hopefully.

"Maybe," Y/n answered teasingly. She pressed a kiss to Bruce's cheek before she got up from the bar to find Vicki again. There was a little extra pep in her step knowing that Bruce was watching her, that they were a little closer to being together again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 4

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your morning begins lazily. You're not used to functioning without a sense of urgency but it's nice. You take your time having your coffee and nibbling on toast in front of the television. You finally find the motivation to get dressed just after eleven, intent on hitting the country store before you let another day off fade into oblivion. You've been saying you'd go for months and it always turns into 'just don't have the energy.'

You take the train downtown then find a bus to the edge of the city, just a ten-minute walk from the country store. The commute alone is an hour, the temperature dipping even lower without the shield of the urban sprawl. You shiver as you finally reach your destination, like a warrior cresting the drawbridge of a mythical castle.

Inside, there's a cozy atmosphere. The smell of cedar wafts through the air as you marvel at the vast expanse before you. As you browse the signs denoting the contents of each aisle, you set off towards the wool section, hoping to finally teach yourself to knit. Just before the confection area, there's a small table set up and woman greets you before you can reach the crafts. She offers you a sample of chestnut cocoa. Sounds interesting, but somewhat unappetizing. The chill in your bones cozens you to the promise of liquid warmth.

You blow over the top of the cup, smiling awkwardly at the employee. The store is somewhat bustling but that area seems to be a bit dead. You taste it and give a wobbly hum. Not bad, actually. You'll at least be able to finish it.

"Oh, it's good," you say.

"If you would like to buy some, you can take a coupon," the woman offers.

"Oh, sure," you accept out of kinship for your fellow retail worker. You take a coupon and thank her again.

"What's this?" A voice has you quickly stepping out of the way as the rattle of a cart rolls close.

"Good afternoon, sir," the woman puts on her best chime, "would you like to try a sample of our hot chocolate?"

"Hm, I guess," the man drones and you freeze in the spot. No way.

You keep your head down as you sidle away but hit the cart parked behind you with your hip. You apologise without looking up but your name reels you back. You cringe at the store and go rigid, slowly turning on your heel to face Andy.

"Oh, hi," your voice piques, "what are you doing here?"

"Shopping," he says as if it should be obvious. He pauses and accepts the small cup from the lady at the booth. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

He tweaks his brow and you look away guiltily, "uh, yeah, actually, I... switched shifts with Chelsea so... yeah."

"Wow, that's... interesting," he says, "well, interesting seeing you all the way out here."

"Yeah, very," you agree, almost genuinely. What are the odds?

"My friend recommended the place," he sniffs the hot chocolate but doesn't drink, "you come here a lot?"

You bounce on your feet impatiently. You glance over at the employee awkwardly watching the interaction. You've been there before.

"First time," you answer, "anyway, I... I'm just gonna keep going," you look at the worker, "I don't want to clog up the area." You wave a palm at Andy awkwardly, "nice running into you."

"You too," he returns quietly.

You swallow and back away. This is so weird. Coincidences happen, sure, but it's not like this place is a Target. You clutch your cup tight as you walk away, keeping your eyes forward as a shudder stays trapped in your ribcage. Something's just not right. Or maybe you're thinking too much.

You veer down the aisle of yarn and blow out the breath caught in your chest. You stop amid the various shades of pinks and purples and peer down into the cup. Your stomach is churning violently and you don't think it's the drink.

You try to shake off the encounter and linger amidst the needles and threads. You wander down the next aisle and browse the paints. You're not very artistic but you could probably manage a paint-by-number. You click your tongue and continue on without purchase. You're not sure you want to waste the money.

You end up near the checkout at the rack of handmade sweaters. You like the patchwork on the one, even if it reminds you of a 90s sitcom. You slowly turn the rack as you weigh the value of the sweater. You peek up and see Andy just on the otherside as he rolls his cart by. Before you can dodge his look in your direction, he waves. You have to wave back but quickly go back to searching the rack.

You take the off the bar and dally by the card stand, waiting until you see Andy leave before head up to checkout. You toss your empty cup in the bin at the corner of the counter. You go to the till and pay, taking your time as you dread the walk to the bus.

You accept your bag and receipt and zip up your coat on your way out the door. You check your phone for the bus times. You'll have to move fast to catch the next one or wait an hour for the one after that. You hurry past the parking lot, head down against the cold, and head up along the unpaved path parallel to the road.

As you get to the stop, you tuck your hands in your sleeves and face the road, peering longingly down it. You didn't see the bus drive by so you should be on time. You chatter as you hear gravel mulching in the other direction. There's a honk as the car slows and you grimace as you watch it take a U-turn and come up on your side. You wobble on your legs as the window rolls down.

"Cold out," Andy calls over the empty passenger's seat, "need a ride?"

You shake your head, "no, it's fine. I got other places to go."

"I don't mind. I figure since I'm out here."

"Really, I can't accept," you offer a vacant smile, "thanks, though."

"It's really not safe for you to be out here--"

"The bus is on its way," you argue, a bit more terse than you mean to.

"I know, I'm trying to be nice."

"It is nice, okay? But I don't want a ride."

He idles there, quiet, waiting. You have nothing else to say so you once more look down the road. He sniffs and grips the headrest on the passenger's seat.

"Why not?"

Your smile falls away completely as you look at him. Something about his expression adds to the frigid chill. You wet your dry lips and sway.

“To be honest, I don't take rides with strangers.”

“Well, I'm not a stranger,” he puffs out.

You shrug and shake your head, “I said no thank you.”

“Right, got it,” he huffs, “see ya, I guess.”

He rolls up the window as you stare at your boots. He drives away, swerving to reverse direction once more. You flinch as the gravel mulches and wait until the hum of his engine dissipates.

His last words echo, as much a threat as a promise.

[febuary30thday]

"I'm above you, you pathetic demon."

Yan! Douma x GN! God! Reader. (Reader's gender is not specified. I will refer to you as a deity, but you are a god. Douma does refer to you one time as "goddess" but it's only once.)

Being a deity was boring, it really was. Sure, you had divine duties to attend to, but that was it. You didn't talk to the other deities, make friends, or anything like that, because it was a foreign concept and seen as abnormal. You couldn't believe you were saying this, but you envied humans.

Yes, yes, you know, it's disgraceful, but you can't help it. Deities are just like humans, except for..... okay, a lot of things, but that's not the point. The point is, you wanted friends, and you decided to pretend to be human, even if for a little.

Arriving in the human world, you take in your surroundings, and find out snowy mountain. How nice. Well, time to just walk around aimlessly. Or, hold on. Who was that?

"Hello? Who was that? I know you're there." You ready an attack, in case this person was a threat.

A woman steps out of the shadows, and smiles. "Hello, my name is Shikata Yue. Who might you be? Why are you on this mountain? It's quite dangerous out here, especially at night, when the temperature gets colder."

She beckons you to follow her. "Please, don't stay inside, I wouldn't want you to freeze to death. You should come to my house, then you can be on your way."

You follow her, knowing that she has good intentions, one of the perks of being a deity is you can sense intentions in people, and hers were good. She takes good care of you, and you stay with her for the night.

Yue asks you a lot of questions in the morning, sounding like an overbearing mother, which slightly annoyed you. You answered them the best you could, also making sure not to give any information that you were a deity. It took a very long time to learn how to hide your divine presence.

Yue was actually really kind and she let you stay with her under the guise that you would help her out. She was a traveling doctor, so, you traveled with her and helped her out. However, that all changed one day, when she decided to travel out on her own in the night. You had heard rumors of demons, but you had never seen one, but far too many people claimed demons existed for it to be wrong, so, you went searching for her.

When you went to look for her, you found her bowing in front of a man, who was sitting on a beanbag. You had learned that in Japan, people take off their shoes before entering a house, so you took off your shoes. The man greeted you, and you could instantly feel something was wrong. That was in no way anything close to the presence of a man, much less a human.

What was that Kanji in his eyes? Two....Upper? Upper 2? Wait, you had heard of this. Demons.....the Twelve Kizuki.....Uppermoons....and....Lowermoons. Right, he was a powerful, high-ranking demon, but you couldn't prove it. You had to wait.

Thankfully, Yue was now one of his "followers" and you had to become one as well, because you had to follow her. You had found out some outrageous information. These people genuinely believed that he was a deity. How dare they? You were a deity and that was an insult to all of the deities.

One night, however, you had watched him leave with Yue, and she looked smitten. She had admitted to loving him and wishing he'd court her, so you just played along and pretend to be devoted. It was disgusting. You followed them, and found him feeding on her. He was eating her, but not in the way she wished.

It was disgusting. You should've listened to your gut and killed him when you had the chance. But then it hit you, gods weren't allowed to interfere in human business. But you just couldn't stand here and do nothing.

You attacked him, and he didn't seem surprised, he was enthusiastic.

Douma had known all this time. You didn't feel like a human, but you weren't a demon either, so you had to be something else. You were an actual deity, on how his heart sang! You were so fake with your devotion, just like him! But the more he stalked hung around you because of his new and obsessive feelings for you, the more he started realizing what you were. You had this divine presence, even if it was faint.

When you attacked him, it came in full force. You strangled him and he didn't move, only smiling happily. You were putting his hands on him! You, a deity, were putting your hands on him! You thought him worthy enough to touch him! Oh, and what you said next made him nod in devotion, submissive toward your every whim.

"I'm above you, you pathetic demon."

He nodded happily. Yes, you were above him, and he needed you to live breathe, survive, and thrive, you were like a drug, and he wouldn't ever give you up soon. Then, you started to walk away. No. No! He couldn't let you leave.

He grabbed you and you struggle in his arms for a brief moment, surprised. He looked you dead in the eyes, still blushing from the close proximity.

"You can't leave me, my goddess, the Paradise Faith Cult needs someone to worship, and I have the perfect individual in mind."

You were a deity, deserving of worship, and now, meet your most devoted, obsessive follower, Uppermoon Two, Douma. Good luck.

[kamiversee]

OKAY. HERE WE GO. I DID IT, I WENT OVER THE CHAPTERS AND PULLED OUT DIFFERENT THINGS. IM SO SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG. PLS KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE UR STORY AND IM SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS IS!!!

....

Chapters that include Sukuna: 23, 24, 25, 32, 33, 34

Chapter 23: The Party Era "Well… around a time like now, that asshole is probably somewhere in the middle of the party," Gojo explains.

The way he refers to Sukuna as an asshole has you worried. Are you going to have to deal with another Naoya?

Swallowing down a large gulp of nerves, you bat your eyelashes at Gojo, "Asshole…?"

He tenses up beside you for some unknown reason, "Uh… I mean, yeah." He shrugs, "Sukuna isn't the nicest guy in the world, everyone knows that."

Satoru describing Sukuna as an asshole, tensing up but only saying that he isn't the "nicest guy in the world".

"Sukuna…" Gojo pauses, thinking hard about something before shaking the thought away, "He uh… How do I say this… He'll," The man looks down at you again, "He'll be nice to you."

He wasn't worried that Sukuna would hurt her. It makes me believe there could be a closer hint towards Sukuna knowing who the reader was prior to this. If he knew about her then it would give Satoru a reason to be able to leave her alone with him without worrying that he would harm her (if Choso was being honest about the abuse-- which he would have no reason to lie about?).

Your body language made it so painfully obvious that you didn't want this guy touching on you and you eventually turned your head back to him, noticing that it was the same person Gojo snapped at earlier.

That realization caused goosebumps to form all over your skin and you tried telling the man to back off you. He definitely heard you but clearly ignored you, going as far as groping your ass and creepily smiling at you.

The exact same man from before? It seems suspicious that the guy would go after the reader more than once in the night, especially after being practically threatened with Satoru's eyes… maybe this was set up? (I'm stretching it).

In the blink of your eye, one second he was trying to come to touch you again and the next you saw a fist make contact with his jaw, a crack heard even through the music as his body stumbled to the side and then made contact with the floor.

Sukuna doesn't even bat an eye before he whacks this man to the floor for harassing a woman. It makes me feel like there's something there. Does he know her? Or does he genuinely just hate people making women uncomfortable, but that also defeats the purpose of what Choso said-- why would Sukuna beat a guy up for making a woman uncomfortabe if he beats them.

The smile that was once spread across his face drops completely when he looks at you.

???

Chapter 24: The Heavy Tension

FIFTEEN MINUTES. That was the exact amount of time it took you to seduce Sukuna.

The act was way too easy. Actually, it was suspiciously easy.

It's one thing for him to have made his introduction by knocking a creep out for the sake of you but it's an entirely different thing for the man to then order you to dance with him.

Still feels weird to me, but I'm not too suspicious given his history with women (provided in future chapters).

His introduction seemed pretty odd as well. I feel like because the man was doing this to multiple women maybe this was still planned??? But he's also a creep SOOOO!

A voice was right in your ear, lips brushing over your skin and giving you literal chills, "You're not uncomfortable with me touching you, right?"

SEE IT JUST MAKES ME SO CONFUSED!!!!

"Bullshit," He utters, "Nobody dresses like this without the intent of gaining my attention," Sukuna claims while his hands slide back down along your body.

This is probably nothing but I thought I might just add it?

"Care to be my next victim?" Sukuna requests, his wording making your face scrunch up a little.

"What a poor choice of words…" You murmur in response, taking him by complete surprise.

IM SORRY I HAD TO ADD IT LMAO

You glance over to a nightstand you pass by and notice a single framed picture. Stopping, you can't help but pick it up. It's Yuji. The resemblance between Sukuna and his younger brother is uncanny, they look identical with the exception of Sukuna appearing older and having face tattoos.

"Is this your brother?" You blurt out.

Sukuna's head turns back to you again, his brows furrowed and a vein popping out in his forehead at the mere mention of his sibling. "Unfortunately, yes." He sighs deeply, rolling his eyes at how curious you are and returning his attention to whatever it was on inside the bathroom.

If this isn't Choso's room, which I don't think it is… Why would Sukuna have a framed photo of Yuji? He obviously doesn't like his brother, but I feel like there's something weird about that fact.

Only to be stopped by another banging against the room door, this time followed by some guy calling Sukuna's name.

…

His phone buzzes on the counter and his head snaps back before he snatches the device up. Sukuna's whole face sinks and he looks like he's about to kill someone.

"These fucking idiots…" He sighs, unlocking his phone and responding to something. You sit idly on the floor, staring up at him until he looks down at you again.

With a sigh Sukuna shakes his head, "Someone threatened to call the cops and shut this party down so, I gotta' go." He explains.

I'm sorry this was definitely Satoru no one is telling me otherwise…

Chapter 32: The Heavy Tension

He nods his chin toward the picture you just had in your hands, "You know my brother, don't you?"

There is no way he could have guessed that??? She picked up a picture of Yuji last time and he didn't think she'd know who he was, but Choso?

"He's talked about you before," Sukuna says suddenly.

I know he said this in a joking way, but is there any way that Choso and Sukuna still keep in touch?

It's slow but he soon meets your eyes, "Bad one. Fucker' snuck a hit on me like the little bitch he is," Sukuna curses.

Oh he's definitely talking about Satoru c'mon.

"No, but, I fight a lot and I'd love to have a pretty face like yours taking care of me after each one," Sukuna comments, his words making your heart race.

I JUST DONT UNDERSTAND ANYMORE…

Sukuna releases one and then brings the other to his mouth, placing a kiss on the palm of your hand.

He's being so gentle here????!?!?!

Chapter 34 - The Degrading Era

On your body was this large t-shirt and… your underwear? Except, it was freshly cleaned? Holy shit, how long were you out for?

He even takes care of her the morning after, which feels weird because of his character.

"How do you feel?" Sukuna cuts off, uninterested in your questions as to why he's so close to you.

…

When you opened the device and went through it, you noticed your notification from your bank, a lovely deposit of six thousand USD having been sent to you within the last hour.

Okay so Satoru already knowing did seem fairly suspicious. But then again you were gone for awhile…?? But he wasn't with you… UGH I DONT KNOW!

That's oddly specific. You didn't think much of when he called you a whore last night, since, y'know, you like being degraded. But, something about that being his assumption for your occupation is a crazy coincidence.

Especially considering how hellbent Gojo was on telling you not to call yourself that. The more you think about it…

Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna-

Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-

I DONT CARE IF SUKUNA SAID HE WAS JOKING. THIS IS TOO SUSPICIOUS!!!! "You've got the kinda' pussy men pay for. Hell, I…"

I know this is because he didn't want to compliment the reader BUT 1. he's seeming a little to sweet to her if this isn't how he normally treats women. 2. I DONT THINK HE WOULD JOKE? DID HE PAY??? HELLO!!! IM CONFUSED

You're quick to wrap your arms around his neck as you're lifted into the air and Sukuna carries you to his bathroom.

"Do not get used to this." He says sternly.

You've got a big smile on your face as he assists you with readying yourself for the day.

The man helps you to brush your teeth, cleanse your face, get dressed in your clothes from the night prior that have been washed, and then he basically carries you everywhere around his house.

After which, Sukuna says he's driving you home and you end up spending a lovely morning receiving princess treatment from the man.

I'm sorry HELLO? I'm telling you this is weird behaviour for someone who supposedly fucks and dips… he seems to caring, especially towards her. I know he doesn't have feelings for her but what is it!!!

(i put this on my acc also if it's easier to read that way i dont know if these messages get cut off lmk!)

if u read this... thank u, and im sorry.

ly girl ur great!

Oh you’re gonna eat the next chapter I upload up ngl

So to start, I can’t confirm or deny anything as typically said :/

But I’ll instead give you more things to consider based on these thoughts of yours! These are in no specific order btw so bear with me pls !

—

One, as said before, no one knows the time frame on what Choso said about Sukuna being abusive to women & I’d also like to point out how it’s clearly said that Choso moved out of their shared home the moment he got the chance to years ago.

While this doesn’t make up for anything, it is something to consider since he was quite kind to the reader & for him to act such a way it’s just out of character compared to what Choso says :)

—

Two, the creep who harasses the reader twice is simply just an example of men who just dont take the hint. He blatantly ignored Gojo’s threat and still approached the reader anyways — it wasn’t set up at all ^.^

—

People keep asking why Sukuna would assume the reader knew Choso. Well, they do attend the same university & as seen in the most recent chapter, most people are aware of the two being brothers — the reader being the only one out of the loop. Hell, even Shoko knew a bit about them since she said Sukuna doesn’t like being referred to as Itadori.

—

It’s never stated that Sukuna typically fucks & leaves. If anything, notice how he offers to be fwb to the reader. Never is it specified that Sukuna is the type to fuck someone once & then dip, especially as it’s later revealed the reader isn’t the only woman he’s interested in having sex with as he says he called the “wrong whore”.

Plus, despite Choso’s claim of Sukuna hitting women & us not knowing the time frame on that, note that his aftercare could just be who he is. I had to make him the king of something in this fic & I chose aftercare💀

That being said, sure, later down the line you could assume Sukuna would lose his temper and lay his hand on someone but never would you know if his aftercare to the reader is exclusive only to her or just how he is.

—

Gojo sending the money the next morning isn’t unusual in any way.

When the reader slept with Toji, Gojo knew (assumed) she’d done it without even receiving a text from her so it’s safe to assume he did the same with Sukuna and figured after not hearing a word from the reader, she’d completed her goal.

—

I believe that’s about all I wanted to explain, the theory girlies are gonna eat this tf up so ty for the break down🫶

Oh, you still missed the detail I said no one found btw ;)

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

◇ The Lady In Armour - King Baldwin x Reader: Part 2 (Final Part) ◇

◇ Long Fic ◇

A/N: Hello! This is part 2 of a fic I wrote a few days ago requested by the lovely @lzsia! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven and not the real historical figures. This will be the last part (mainly because it would hurt too much to write a charicter death😭) but also because I think it wrapped up nicely, I hope everyone agrees! This is set pre-film. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, mentions of death

Y/n was unsure how to approach this conversation. She was unprepared for such an informal meeting. When Tiberias told her that the king would be “deciding her fate”, she expected a trial to decide if she lives or dies. Not a personal conversation about her past. But nevertheless, if the king was prepared to be kind and spare her life, she would take it over being sentenced to death.

“Well, I was never supposed to be in the battle. It was a mistake” y/n began. “I was a mercenary in Saladin’s army and I was tricked into joining by a man who I belived was my friend” she paused, unwilling to go much further. She was not willing to share such details of her life with a man she had just met, royalty or not.

“Interesting,” Baldwin replied after a few moments. “And how did you come to be a mercenary?” he pressed. Y/n felt unsure of this. It seemed that he was questioning her for information on how to proceed in punishing her. But his eyes told a different story. He looked genuinely interested in what she had to say. He was a very complex man, nowhere near as simple minded as the other men in the mercenaries.

“I left my family when I was 14 to join. My father had been a mercenary as well, I wished to avenge his death since he had no sons to do it for him” y/n stated.

“That was a very kind thing for you to have done,” Baldwin smiled kindly. Y/n was suprised by his words. “Thank you sir” she attempted to hide her confusion. “If I may ask a question, your majesty? y/n added quickly. “Of course,” he answered just as fast.

“Why have I not been executed? Or enslaved? You have treated me with the utmost respect and yet I am a prisoner of war. Why is that?” She was sure by now he knew how suspicious she was of his compassion.

Baldwin sighed before speaking. “Well, last night when I saw you for the first time, you intrested me. Your strength in the face of death was admirable, I had to know more about you”. Now it was y/n’s turn to listen intently. Nobody had ever said something like that to her before. Most men in her hometown simply complemented her looks or body, not her strength.

She couldn't help but smile at his honesty. “That is very kind of you to say. Truth be told, I was suspicious of your compassion, but truly you are the most intriguing man I have ever met. With your permission I would love to get to know you also” Baldwin was pleasantly surprised by her reply. She had a fabulous way with words, more so than any woman he had ever met. “That would be wonderful,” he replied. “Can you play chess?” he added, gesturing to the small table on the opposite side of the room. “Yes, my father taught me” 

“Excellent, would you care to play?” he offered enthusiastically.

Y/n chuckled at his excitement, “yes, I would love to”. 

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

The two played in silence. She was far better than he assumed her to be and more than once she had him completely backed into a corner. Yet another thing about her that shocked him. The game went on for a long while until y/n called out, “check mate”. Baldwin was lost for words. She was incredible. He had not even noticed that she could win in one more move. Y/n grinned when she noticed his widened eyes and bewildered expression. He turned his head from the board to meet her eye.

“You had me interested madame, but now you have me but now have me encapsulated”. Y/n tilted her head to the side, her smile never changed.

“There is much more to me than this”

“And I will listen until I hear everything there is to tell” he replied.

The two played one more game of chess until the sun sunk below the horizon. The candle light and the setting sun bathed the room in a warm glow.

They wished they had more time together, but soon the king's physicians would soon arrive to clean his wounds and change his bandages. They said their farewells and made arrangements to see eachother again the following afternoon before two guards escorted y/n back to the servant chambers. Baldwin had requested that she not be kept in the dungeon with the other prisoners. She was far too precious for that.

Once his physicians concluded their work and departed from his chambers, the king lay on his bed, thinking. Just as he had done the night before. But this time, his thoughts were far happier. The day had gone perfectly. She was incredible. Her sharp mind had him amazed. He desperately wanted to hear more about her. Perhaps even tell her some things about himself. Her beautiful face was the last thing to cross his mind before he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

On the other side of the castle, y/n was in a very similar situation. The king had her intrigued as much as she had him interested. He was very different to what she had assumed. She believed he would be arrogant, as many men his age were. But not at all. He was very wise for his age and surprisingly kind. Not only that, but he was far more attractive than she expected.

The bandages around his nose and cheeks somehow added to his already perfect face. His golden blonde hair looked soft and his eyes were like a clear blue sky. She had no idea what was happening to her. Being attracted to a man such as him came with risks. Perhaps he was using her for information on Saladin’s army? She had to remain focused and not allow her feelings to get in the way. But she couldn't deny the fact that these feelings were definitely at the front of her mind.

Y/n lay awake for a few more hours before finally closing her eyes and allowing herself to fall into a light sleep.

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

The next morning y/n was awake early. The small group of servant women from yesterday had provided her with a new set of clothing. She cleaned up her appearance and waited in the servant chambers to be retrieved and escorted to the king. She found herself looking forward to seeing him. She wondered what they would do together. What questions he would ask while watching her with his full attention. A smile crossed her face at the thought of that. 

Finally Tiberias, accompanied by two guards, arrived to escort her. They made a few different turns than yesterday causing y/n to feel suspicion creep up again. She was almost tempted to ask where they were going, but thought best to stayed silent.

Finally, they came to an archway that led to the castle courtyard. The suspicion drained away when she saw the king sitting on a bench close to the arch, reading a book.

He looked up and smiled when he saw them. “Good afternoon my lady,” he greeted her, kissing her hand gently. “Good afternoon, your majesty,” she replied. “Leave us,” Baldwin told the guards. They turned to walk away, Tiberias followed. 

“Now, shall we take a walk?” the king asked, holding out an arm for her to hold. “Of course” y/n replied warmly, taking his arm.

The gardens of the castle were beautiful. Something out of a fairy tale. The grass was impossibly green, and every flower was brighter than the last. The courtyard was massive, giving them plenty of time to enjoy eachothers company. The two spoke of many things, but y/n avoided talking too much about herself, hoping Baldwin would not notice.

He did infact notice. “Enough about me, how about yourself? You mentioned leaving your family. Do you have any siblings?” he asked curiously. “Yes I do, three most unpleasant sisters” she replied.

Baldwin chuckled at that. “And I believed growing up with one was enough!”

Y/n grinned. “Yes, three of them was more than enough sisterly-experience for me. They disliked me as much as my mother did” 

“Was your mother against you joining the mercenaries?” he asked

“Very much so, she refused to allow me to even approach my fathers sword for fear that I would ‘get ideas’. But my mind was made up the second I received word of my fathers death”

Baldwin hummed in reply, obviously deep in thought at the statement. 

The pair sat down on a small grassy hill and continued to speak of y/n’s family. She finally gave in a little and told him about her experience in the mercenaries, her family's disapproval of her behavior and how her father was the only one in her family to fan the flame of her spirit.

It was early evening when a small framed servant woman came to tell the two that dinner had been prepared.

“Would you care to join me for dinner y/n?” the king asked. Up until this point, she had been eating whatever leftovers were brought to the servant chambers. “I would love to, but are prisoners supposed to dine with royalty?” she asked coyly, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. Baldwin smiled, “from now on, you are no longer a prisoner. You are a guest”.

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

The dinner was just the two of them on account of everybody else being preoccupied with other duties. It was pleasant for both of them.

Y/n appreciated the food being still warm this time, enjoying the first good meal she had in months. Maybe years. Once they had finished, it was already dark outside. Baldwin suggested that they go to his chambers to continue their conversation. 

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

“Y/n, may I tell you something?” the young king asked once they were both settled. “Of course you can,” she replied, quickly becoming curious. Baldwin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I really like you y/n” He paused. “I know we have only known each other for a few days, but you are the most wonderful person I have ever met. I do not want you to leave. I do not want this to end” he took her hand in his. “I have been alone for so long and I believed I would be alone forever, but you have seen past my disease and right into my heart”.

Y/n felt warmth swell in her chest. She refused to deny her feelings any longer. For the first time in her life, she let go of logic and thought with her heart. And her heart wanted him. “I am not going to leave you Baldwin. It feels like I have known you for my whole life. And i think-” she paused, but she shook away the urge to think this through “I love you”. In a matter of seconds, their lips were locked together.

There was no regret shared when they pulled away. “I love you too y/n” he felt tears begin to well in his eyes. He tried not to blink so as to not let them fall but she noticed. She always noticed. She placed a hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb softly. “There is no need to cry. I'm right here and I am not leaving you” she said warmly.

The young king smiled, his lip quivering slightly. He turned away so she could not see him like this, but she used the hand on his cheek to turn his face back to look at her, meeting his tear filled eyes. She wiped his tears with her thumb. “Why are you crying?” she said sweetly. “I just never thought this day would come. Someone with a disease such as mine does not deserve such love and kindness, much less from an angel like you” his voice was shaky. He cursed himself for being so weak in front of her.

But she simply cupped her hands around his face.”You deserve the world Baldwin. You showed me kindness even though I am a prisoner. You have such a beautiful soul and your disease does not define you. Never forget that” her words were so gentle. He wanted to cry in her arms and never leave. It took all of his strength to prevent himself from sobbing. He could barely get a single word out, just nodded his head quickly. Y/n opened her arms, bringing him against her chest.

He could not hold back anymore. He sobbed into her shoulder. Every suppressed emotion he had felt since his life changed forever at the diagnosis came out in that moment.

Y/n laid back on the couch so he could lay down on top of her. He was surprisingly light for his athletic build. He wrapped his arms around her waist and cried into her chest for a long time while y/n rubbed his back, occasionally kissing the top of his head.

Finally, his breathing evened out and his body relaxed. Y/n looked down to see his eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Her heart melted at the sight. He had fallen asleep on her chest, it was the most adorable thing she had ever seen.

No doubt about it, she had a soft spot for him. A soft spot in her heart that she didn't even know existed. But he had crawled inside nonetheless. She leant her head back and grinned, this was the happiest she had felt in her entire life despite the circumstances. She decided at that moment that she could wait no longer. She wanted to marry this man.

She heard his breathing deepen into soft snoring as he fell further into sleep. She wanted to stay awake as long as she could to watch over him. She watched his back rise and fall with each deep, even breath.

Y/n remained awake the entire night just admiring him. She was not even tired by morning. Something about seeing him in such a peaceful rest made her feel more refreshed than any amount of sleep could.

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

It was a week later exactly that Baldwin asked for her hand in marriage. He waited until the perfect moment to ask. They had gone out riding that morning, planning to spend the entire day together. They had stopped to allow their horses to rest for a moment atop a hill when he asked. There was nobody around for miles. Just them. It was perfect. They were married the very same month, and as requested by the king, y/n took comand of the army of Jerusalem. And she went down in history, forever known as The Lady in Armour.

[zairene]

SYNOPSIS: y/n is invited by the new york times magazine to introduce herself to the world of fame. it seems that audiences around the globe have been buzzing to know the scoop behind this new model that’s made a brilliant entrance into the industry.

WARNINGS: none!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: alr working on chapter one 🙇🏾‍♀️

WORD COUNT: 628

SERIES MASTERLIST + TAGLIST FORM

“YOU READY TO START, Y/N?” THE LADY HAD previously introduced herself as amelia. recently, you had gotten an email from her company giving you an offer to talk about your life story for millions. at first, you were hesitant about the idea. you had been able to maintain a private yet mysterious persona, not much was known about you but the wikipedia page that was made that’s easily accessible to anybody. you didn’t bother to try to get it taken down since the information on it was accurate and nothing too personal about your life.

nobody knew about your family life, whether or not you had siblings, or your relationship status even, and you never confirmed or denied rumors unless you had to because false things being spread about you was inevitable, and you honestly couldn’t care less. you only let the public know things you wanted them to know. although, this invasion of privacy would be good for your career, said your manager. it would let your supporters know who you are and learn they can somehow relate to you.

“yeah, i’m ready!” you said, trying to keep a smile that was so obviously forced on your face. you tried to be genuine because she wasn’t a rude woman. she was quite nice, maybe you’d invite her out for a drink or two sometime.

beforehand she gave you a brief rundown of how this was gonna go. she records your conversation, and they take everything you said and put it in a magazine. you agreed and before you knew it amelia pressed the recording button in front of you.

“so, y/n, let’s start simple, yeah? do you have any hobbies? things you like to do in your spare time?”

“well, yes. i like to sing sometimes and i’ve always been painting since i was a little girl. i’m more of a traditional painter, but i wouldn’t mind trying things out digitally.”

she shook her head and wrote some notes down, before looking back up to you with a smirk.

“singing? well, is there a possibility that you could pursue a career in singing?”

you chuckled. “maybe, but i don’t wanna set expectations too high right now. so i’ll let everyone decipher that on their own.”

“alright alright. well, it’s not a secret that your looks have caught the eyes of others. and it leaves a lot of people wondering if you would ever date a fan?”

your eyebrows furrowed. “i honestly don’t know. that’s the problem with being… famous, i guess? you never really know anyone’s true intentions with you. they could lie and say they don’t know me from anywhere but they have. and they are only trying to get with me because they see how that can be a benefit for themselves and not because they like me, for me. so, i’m not saying i wouldn’t, but i just don’t prefer it.”

she shakes her head, her lips pressing against one another. “that’s understandable. there are cruel people out there. but, on a more positive note, there’s been a buzz in the media. it’s being said that someone, i won’t name, might give you a run for your money, y/n.”

“oh, seriously?”

“seriously. he’s known for his modeling internationally. you may be running the united states, but currently he’s running the world. how do you feel about that?”

you thought for a second. running the world? now how the hell can anyone possibly do that? and how haven’t you heard of him? “well, um, i’m not sure, especially since you didn’t give me the name.” you laughed, and she followed. “but, this isn’t his territory, it’s mine. so why should i be worried? you said it yourself. i’m running the united states… right?”

🏷️ EXPOSURE TAGLIST :: @sapphicshav @goldenglow149 @pnkweb @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @laylasbunbunny @plutoruins @intheewrld @idklol237 @whats-humanity-lol @nyfwyeonjun @vaebae99 @blackunecorn @tojisrightnut @fiannee @aboutkiyoomi @4kh

-> if you weren’t able to be tagged, please let me know if you changed your url or just wanna be removed. thank you!

[straightupsickfics]

another lovesick afternoon

literally genuinely 2.5k words of modern au ed and stede being the softest grossest saps you ever did see while ed gets a cold. and i, personally, love that for them. and me. <3

****

“God, fuck, this is good, are you sure you don’t want to… well, no, probably not a good idea,” Ed says, offering Stede a sip of his iced mocha coffee and pulling it away all in one fell swoop. 

Stede pouts, though Ed knows he had no real intention of drinking it. Ed likes his coffee sweet enough to give Stede a toothache, and while Stede enjoys the occasional sweet himself, the scone he has beside him is more than enough to do the job for him. 

“Think I’m catching a cold or something,” Ed explains. He’d woken up this morning with the first twinges of a sore throat, the start of a runny nose, but had powered through a shower and felt mostly fine after some water and orange juice.

Still, Stede gives a little squeak of protest.

“You should’ve said!” Stede tells him. “I could’ve brought coffee home for us.”

Ed rolls his eyes and smiles fondly. “S’nothing yet, a little sore throat, a few sniffles, that’s all. Didn’t you drag Lucius to a concert while he was sick a few weeks ago?” 

Stede’s eyes narrow. “He wasn’t sick, for one thing, Edward, he had a hangover, and that was his own fault. And besides, it’s different…” 

Different when it’s you.

Stede doesn’t finish the thought aloud, but Ed knows what he means, and his warm, fond smile is all the confirmation Ed needs that he’s right. 

Ed lets his hand rest on Stede’s hand while they drink their coffee and eat their croissants. They hadn’t had much hope of finding a spot in the park on a morning as nice as this one, but a bench had opened up just as they’d arrived, perfect timing, and Ed had all but sprinted over to it to stop it being taken. 

“You almost took out that old woman,” Stede had admonished him between fits of laughter. 

“I did not!” 

“You’re going to be on the news! Beautiful man takes down senior citizen,” Stede had narrated in his best newscaster impression. 

Ed had snorted a laugh at this, which only made Stede laugh harder, until they were two grown men dissolving into a helpless fit of laughter on a park bench on a weekend morning. It was, honestly, a perfect morning. 

“What’s next on your list?” Ed asks now, leaning over and brushing a crumb from the corner of Stede’s mouth. 

Stede seems to falter for a minute, unsure. “Well, we don’t need to go anywhere else if you’re not feeling up to it—” He says quickly. And while he’s right, they don’t need to be anywhere. They aren’t “running errands” so much as moseying around their little town, enjoying the warmth of the day and each other’s company.

“We can just as easily do that at home,” Stede insists. 

“I’m not on my deathbed, love, seriously. You said you wanted to look at books for six or seven hours, didn’t you?” 

Stede’s still sputtering a protest as Ed gets to his feet and offers Stede his hand, laughing. 

*

Stede Bonnet really could look at books for hours on end if he was left to his own devices, and it’s kind of fucking adorable. Ed turns a corner and finally finds his husband crouched down and reading the back of a hardback book, completely lost in his own, fictional world. 

“So, you come here often?” Ed asks, voice low, mouth close to Stede’s ear. He smiles when Stede’s neck and cheeks flush a pale shade of pink in surprise. 

“Ah! Every now and then,” Stede squeaks, struggling to his feet. Ed offers him his hand and tugs him to his feet, wrapping an arm around Stede’s waist to balance him. 

It’s Stede’s favorite store, full to bursting with books on shelves and stacked in piles, full of big windows that leave the whole store entirely drenched in sun on bright sunny mornings. Like this one, with the sun hitting the blond in Stede’s hair just so and making it look like it’s made of pure sunshine. 

Stede is pure sunshine, Ed thinks to himself. They come here just about as often as they can, Ed happy enough to trail behind Stede and listen to plot summaries and debates over when to buy the hardback and when to wait for the paperback. Their shelves at home were bursting, too, but they always managed to find room. 

“Y'good?” 

Stede’s still flushed as he nods, apparently happy enough to have Ed half hold him up in the back of the store. Which is more than fine with Ed, too. 

“Look at this,” Stede says finally, holding out a book for Ed to inspect, something about Greek mythology that he’s had his eye out for. He explains the story to Ed who really does listen as best as he can, but finds himself almost immediately distracted by the animated expressions that dance across Stede’s face, the way he talks with his hands and explains every last detail… 

“Sorry, went off on a bit of a tangent,” Stede says, finally winding himself down. “You didn’t need to know all that.” He’s stuck at a crossroads between embarrassed and apologetic and Ed shakes his head, stopping it in its tracks. 

“Sure I did, fucking fascinating,” he promises. 

Stede smiles, then leans in to kiss him. “I know that’s not true, but I love you.” 

“Love you, too,” Ed says. He lets Stede guide him through the rest of the store, lets himself be talked into another black leather notebook that he definitely doesn’t need, and Stede only fusses a little when Ed has to duck to the side and cough into his elbow. His nose has started to run here and there, enough that he has to say yes to the packet of tissues Stede offers him in the car. 

“Fucking hate this time of year,” Ed grouses. “Germs everywhere, always end up coming down with something…” 

“Poor Ed,” Stede coos at him, only a hint of teasing in his voice. He lays a hand on Ed’s knee and offers to drive, but Ed just shakes his head determined to continue their day out as planned. He rubs his nose into the handful of tissues a final time before pulling out of the parking spot and onto the road. 

There’s a craft store not far from the bookstore, and Stede insists it's only fair that they pop in for Ed since they did the bookstore for so long, and Ed doesn’t have the energy (or, really, the desire) to argue. 

If Stede can spend hours looking at books, Ed could just as easily spend hours browsing yarn and textiles and fabrics, running them through his fingers and dreaming up projects, matching them to patterns he has saved across a million tabs on his phone… 

“Oh! This is a nice one, I think,” Stede says, holding up a bright yellow skein of soft, expensive yarn. “Feel that!” He holds it out for Ed enthusiastically.

It really is nice, and extra soft, perfect for the upcoming fall season. Ed does like to make Stede a sweater every year, and he’d found the perfect sunflower pattern and bookmarked it the other day. 

“Love that,” Ed agrees, and tosses it into his hand basket — he hadn’t even bothered pretending that he wouldn’t be leaving the store without at least a few things, and now he has to find some complementary gold hues for the sweater he’d definitely be making for Stede. 

“You don’t have to…” Stede starts, but Ed quiets him with a look. 

“Well, now I’ve gone and germed it up, so… Had something in mind anyway,” Ed assures him when Stede gives him a worried little frown. “You’ll love it, trust me.” 

“That I do,” Stede smiles, and follows him through the aisle and helping him pick out a few more shades of yarn. 

Ed could browse all day, normally, but today he feels himself starting to drag a little. His head is starting to hurt, and the sore throat from this morning is coming back in full force, too. He stops to sneeze into his elbow when Stede wanders off down another aisle, just two quick, muffled hht’mpsh! Etshhh! sneezes, and still he hears Stede’s voice making its way to him, though Stede himself is still out of sight. 

“Bless you!” 

Ed smiles a little as he digs in his pocket for the last of the tissues Stede had given him earlier. They probably had to go home at this rate, what with his nose in rare fucking form and his head throbbing the way it is. 

With a sigh, Ed goes to find his husband. 

*

“hhh’ISCHih! h’sschUH!”

“Bless—”

“hd’ISCHuh! Eh’sschIEW! hh'iiishhh!”

“...you! Goodness, that’s a lot of sneezes, isn’t it? Are you sure you really need to work on that just now?” Stede asks. 

Ed sniffles, then sniffles again, then gives up and reaches for another tissue and rubs his nose into it. Blowing it doesn’t seem to do much of anything, just irritates things enough to make him sneeze again, which he’s already getting fucking tired of. 

He looks down at the granny square he’d been ignoring in favor of his cold for the last thirty minutes and realizes that Stede is probably right, he’s not going to make any more progress today. He can barely focus on anything with the sneezing or coughing or sniffling or some other cold symptom fighting for his attention. 

“I thought so,” Stede says gently, tucking his bookmark into his book and setting it, along with Ed’s crochet work, on the coffee table. “Why don’t you let me get you something for that cold, hm? Then we can just relax before we eat dinner. I’ll order from the deli you like. Soup’ll do wonders for you, I think.” 

Ed lets his head roll back against the couch cushions and nods. Stede really is the best when Ed’s sick, there’s never been any doubt about that, and this time is no different. Ed stays put in the living room, waiting while Stede putters around in their bedroom and bathroom, grabbing things. Knowing him, he’d come out with half the blankets in his collection, half the medicine cabinet, and insist on ordering almost the entire menu for dinner. 

And Ed… Ed wouldn’t have it any other way. All he could do was make it up to him when Stede inevitably came down with this in a week or so. 

“Here we are!” Stede says, announcing his return. Ed can’t help but laugh when he sees the armload of stuff he’s brought with him. 

“Are you kicking me out of our bedroom?” Ed teases. "Moving me out here permanently?"

“What! No,” Stede says, dumping the blankets onto Ed’s lap and arranging the array of medicines on the coffee table. “Never.”

“Oh, good, had me worried for a minute there, thought you’d packed up everything I own,” Ed laughs as Stede glares at him. 

“Y’know I love you, right?” 

“Yes, because I am an excellent husband with a wonderful bedside manner. Now, I’m going to make tea, you take two of these and one of these and I’ll be right back.” And with that, Stede's off again, Ed laughing quietly on the couch.

By the time the tea is cooled enough to drink, Ed is curled up around Stede on the couch in what can only be called a nest of blankets, doing more sniffling than anything else, but feeling better overall, thanks to the magical combination of medicine, tea, and Stede.

“This really hit you right out of nowhere, hm?” Stede murmurs, stroking a hand through Ed’s hair. It’s shorter and definitely grayer these days, but Ed’s pretty sure he’ll always react to Stede touching it the same way: melting into a pile of goo. God, he really is getting soft in his old age. 

“Yeah,” Ed sighs, leaning back into Stede’s touch. “Not so bad though, I guess…” Soon there would be way too much food arriving at their door, and cleaning up to do, and planning for the week ahead, but for now… 

Now, Ed would swear he can hear Stede’s gleeful little smile behind him. He decides to let him win this one, just before drifting off in a late-afternoon nap. 

*

“Stede, darling, I love you and your adorable, ridiculous, over the top nighttime routine but can you please just— Yes, good, that. Thank you very much,” Ed says, unable to stop the smile from taking over his face as Stede throws himself dramatically onto the bed and curls himself around Ed’s chest, face pressed right into the spot between his neck and shoulder, nose warm against his ear. 

Heaven. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” Ed sighs. 

Stede laughs, giggles, really, and Ed can feel the sound warm right through him. “Y’laughing at me?” Ed asks through a yawn. 

“Never, my love,” Stede promises. “It’s just that we have been literally together all day now, and you were really quite demanding that I get in here right now,” he points out. “You slept on me for two hours just this afternoon!”

Ed pretends to consider this. “So? I wait all day for this, Stede,” he says, then pouts just a little. “Don’t you?” 

“Of course, yes,” Stede says, leaning over and brushing their noses together just gently before kissing him. Ed sniffles a little at the touch, his nose extra sensitive thanks to the monster cold he’s managed to pick up, but Stede doesn’t seem to mind that. 

“Good,” Ed says. “Feels good,” he repeats. 

Stede really can’t seem to stop himself from smiling now, as silly as it might seem. They really had spent the entire day together, and now here they are, giggling like children after lights out. “You feel good, too,” Stede tells him. “Though… Do you feel alright?” 

Ed twitches his nose like he’s testing something, sniffles a few times, then nods. “Think m’alright for now. Still doped up on everything you gave me earlier.” 

“Advil for your head and some cold medicine is hardly doped up,” Stede argues. He kisses Ed again, a distraction, but a welcome one. 

“You take good care of me,” Ed acquiesces, though it’s hard not to with Stede curled around him like this. 

Never one to turn down a compliment, Stede beams. 

“hh’itsSCH! hd’ISCHuh! Eh’sschIEW!”

The rush of sneezes manages to take Ed completely by surprise, and he knows he doesn’t completely manage to duck away from Stede in the process. 

“Fuck… sorry,” Ed mutters, fumbling for a tissue. 

“God bless you! Maybe not quite on the mend yet, then,” Stede says, smiling. 

Ed opens his mouth, ready to apologize again, or promise he’ll take extra good care of Stede in return for being patient zero in the span of a single day, but Stede stops him with another kiss. 

“There’s no way you’re escaping this, mate,” Ed tells him. “You’ve been all over me all day.”

“You’ve been all over me, too,” Stede points out. 

“Right, well, sorry in advance, is what I mean,” Ed says. "Never not going to be all over you, for what it's worth."

“Good. Me either. And it's bound to happen,” Stede shrugs. "If I get it, I get it."

And really, how did Ed get this lucky? Even if he had to wait years and years and make several wrong turns through relationshipland to get here, he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“Now,” Stede says, “you rushed me over here so... come here, please.” He holds out an arm for Ed to curl back into him, and Ed wastes no more time arguing as he settles into place, the two of them slotting around each other like two perfectly shaped spoon.

Yeah, he waits all day for this, and it’s fucking perfect. 

[your-divine-ribs]

Ice Cold Part 15

Words: 2.4k

Lyla finds out more about Van’s past 💙

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

"I owe you my life Lyla."

Raj's voice was filled with an appreciative kind of awe that made me squirm in my seat. I was uncomfortable enough visiting him as it was, I hated hospitals, but the praise he kept heaping on me just made things worse.

"You'd have done the same for me, any of us would have," I replied. "I just wish I'd not been distracted. As soon as I saw those fake waiters I knew something was wrong. I shouldn't have hesitated."

My mind drifted back to that fateful night in Paris and the note from Van urging me to 'GET OUT NOW'. I was sure if I'd followed that instruction I would have been at Raj's graveside now rather than his hospital bed, but still it didn't seem good enough.

Raj shifted where he lay, groaning and screwing up his face, clutching his bandaged abdomen. "Shit... I think it's time for my pain meds again."

"I'll get a nurse," I offered, rising to my feet. "I should be getting back to the office anyway."

"No!" He said hurriedly. "Don't go yet!"

I hesitated, turned to him, watched an awkward little smile emerge on his lips as he struggled to hide his discomfort. "I was thinking... erm... maybe when I get out of this place... maybe we could... errr... go and grab a drink or something?"

My heart sank as I took in his hopeful expression and I just hoped the small smile that I painted on looked genuine. "Errr... yeah sure... that'd be nice... look I really do need to get back. I'll come and visit again soon."

"I'd like that," I heard him say as I hurriedly turned and made for the exit.

Of course I had no intention on taking Raj up on his offer. He was nice enough, a real gentleman, good-looking and sweet. Someone I was that sure Jen would call 'a real catch', but those qualities didn't interest me. They didn't make my heart race and my mind spin. They didn't make me feel the same way that Van did.

In truth, my visit to Raj wasn't just as a well-meaning friend or colleague, I'd also had an ulterior motive. I wanted to find out who'd he'd been working with on the psychological profiling team. I tried to tell myself that I wanted to delve into Van's past to assist me with bringing him down, but I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I was in so deep now all I could do was tread water and try and keep my head above the surface, the dangerous current threatening to completely sweep me away.

Andrea was a small bird-like woman with sharp features and a serious demeanour, and she looked at me with something between wonder and admiration as I asked her to walk me through Van's psychological profile report.

"We've all been talking about you in this office Lyla," she said, eyes bright. "No one else has spent so much time with Van before and got away with their life. What was he like?"

Exciting... Dangerous... Intoxicating...

I batted the words out of my mind and settled on a very different adjective.

"Terrifying."

I saw Andrea visibly shudder as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, picking up a thick file and starting to leaf through.

"You know, you're such a good agent," she said, pulling out sheets and photos. "Most field operatives don't care much about profiles and psych reports, they're straight in there all guns blazing, going for glory. They don't realise that getting inside someone's head and knowing how their mind works is key to catching them."

"Well, no matter what they've done, they're still people at the end of the day, right?" I answered.

Andrea narrowed her eyes. "Oh, we don't do this to humanise them. They're monsters... all of them... no matter what they've been through. No... we do this to find their weaknesses. That's how we bring them down."

"Oh..." I looked away quickly, taking a sip of my coffee.

Andrea carried on, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "Of course someone like Van... well that's easier said than done. He doesn't appear to have any weaknesses. Tell me... you've been the closest to him... what are your thoughts? Is there anything we can use to get to him?"

Her question caught me off guard and I froze for a moment. Of course Van had a weakness. A very obvious one. And unbeknownst to Andrea she was looking directly at it.

"Errr... no... I don't think he does have any weaknesses that I've seen... but he's just a man right? They're all weak in some way, hey?"

I nudged Andrea gently, grinning, trying for a joke to distract from the serious look on her face as she studied me intently, but it was quite obvious she wasn't the joking type. She simply sighed and turned her attention back to the files, picking up an old dog-eared crime report.

A photo slipped out of the pages and fell in front of me on the desk and I picked it up for a closer inspection. It was a small boy, he couldn't have been any older than five or six. His clothes were crumpled and torn and stained with what looked like dried blood. The pale skin of his face was streaked with it too. The haunted look in his eyes told me that he'd seen horrors no boy of his age should have seen.

"Is this... is this Van?" I stuttered.

I didn't really need to ask. I'd recognise those striking blue-green eyes anywhere. Andrea nodded.

"What happened to him?"

Andrea's expression was grim as she spoke. "This was taken when they found him, he was just six years old. His family were killed... all of them.... and he witnessed it. He'd been left in the house for five days with their bodies when they found him."

"Christ..." I breathed. "How were they killed?"

"Murdered."

The word cut through me like a knife to the heart and an image of my own dead father flashed through my mind's eye.

Andrea wasn't finished with her gruesome tale. "It was brutal, a machete attack apparently. The father was beheaded. It was a gangland style execution."

Nausea rose in me. "Who did it?"

"I'm sure you've heard of Tommy Chappell."

I nodded. Everybody had. An infamous criminal who was notorious for running all of the criminal activity in the North twenty years ago.

"Van's father was a bad man. Really bad. Rotten to the core. He used to work for Tommy, running the drug operations. He got greedy though, he was skimming money off the top, and then of course when he got found out Tommy had to make an example of him."

"What about his mum?"

Andrea had a look of distaste on her face. "She was no better. A junkie and an alcoholic. She should never have had children, those boys were neglected right from the moment they were born. They never really stood a chance."

"Boys?" I said, confused by the plural term.

She sifted through the files again, her fingers alighting on another photo. Van looked even younger here and he was with an older boy.

"Van has a brother?"

"Did," Andrea confirmed. "He was a lot older than Van. Chappell didn't spare him either."

I could picture the horrific scene in my mind, Van as a young child, forced to watch his family members meet their grisly ends. It didn't matter whether they were good or bad people, at that age family were all you had. I shook my head, trying to clear the emotion away that was threatening to surface. I had to be professional.

"So what happened to him... afterwards?"

Andrea pulled a sizeable stack of papers out of the file and placed them into my outstretched hands. "He got taken into care. He was young enough that there were plenty of families who were interested in fostering to start with... well, that was until the problems started."

I stopped sifting through the papers and looked up at Andrea, eager to hear more.

"It became apparent quite quickly that Van wasn't like other six year olds. Something was seriously wrong with him. He was... cruel, destructive, often violent. One family went so far as to say he was evil."

I scoffed disbelievingly. "That's ridiculous! He was six years old! After everything he'd been through it's not surprising he had issues!"

"Naturally," Andrea agreed. "Social care's come a long way in the last twenty years. Unfortunately Van was shipped around a lot at first. Families handed him back because they couldn't cope with him. Eventually they ran out of options, so he stayed in care homes... some of them shall we say... rather disreputable..."

She screwed up her face. She didn't need to elaborate, I'd heard enough horror stories of vulnerable children abused by those who had been trusted to care for them.

Andrea went on. "He became just another product of the system... damaged. It's a textbook classic example really. I mean, not all psychopathic behaviour stems from neglect and abuse, but the majority does. If an infant doesn't receive the love they need to form emotional bonds in the first few years of life they develop what's known as attachment disorder. Believe or not, humans have to be taught how to love!"

She allowed herself a laugh then, but I didn't find any humour in it. The ache in my heart was steadily getting stronger the more I heard.

"But his parents... they must have loved him in their own way!" My voice cracked with an emotion I wasn't expecting.

"The McCanns?" She snorted like I'd said something preposterous. "Like I said the mother was an addict and his father was a violent, abusive man. His brother was brought up in the family business and he was very much his father's son. Van was probably being taught how to load a gun when most little boys were getting their first train set. I don't think that boy ever saw anything even close to love... not even for one day of his life."

I wasn't prepared for the feelings that ripped through me, I almost felt physically winded and my unemotional facade slipped. Andrea's eyes narrowed at me.

"You look a little peaky. Do you want a glass of water?"

"No... errr no I'm fine, honestly. Carry on... please."

Andrea's eyes lingered on me just a fraction too long, and I could feel the guilt rising. I cleared my throat and let my head hang whilst I pretended to study the social services statement.

"There's not much more to tell really...." She lent forward, lowering her voice. "Don't go feeling sorry for him. He's good at what he does because he doesn't feel remorse."

"I don't feel sorry for him!" The words sprang from me forcefully, defensively. "I just know how it feels to lose a parent in such a brutal way... that's all."

"Yes I know all about that," Andrea said. "It's the age-old argument of nature versus nurture isn't it? Are people really born bad or does life just shape them that way? You can put two people through the same experience and they can react in totally different ways. Van chose this life. Your dad was murdered too but look how you turned out."

Yeah, a real upstanding and moral citizen...

"It's hardly the same is it?" I replied, knowing I sounded like I was defending him but not being able to stop myself. "He had nothing. At least I had family... my mum..."

"Like she was such a comfort to you when it happened!" Andrea's sharp and sarcastic tone cut me off and I looked at her, stunned. She looked shocked by the outburst herself, quickly back-tracking.

"Err... I didn't mean... I mean I shouldn't have said that..." She faltered, then put out a hand to rest on my arm which I hastily moved away. "I'm sorry but I read your file, your psych evaluations, your therapy sessions..."

I dropped the files on the desk, rising quickly to my feet, pushing the chair back forcefully across the floor with a screeching sound. "I suggest you do your job and read the criminals' reports, not the staff's!" I hissed.

"But... but I had to! When we had that data breach earlier in the year... all those files got accessed. It wasn't just the assignment files... they got into the personnel files too."

I'd already started to turn, but this statement stopped me in my tracks. I'd not heard of any data breach. "What are you talking about?"

Andrea's face looked stricken, like she'd said something she shouldn't have and had now been caught out. I glared at her, watched her squirm with unease.

"I'm guessing no one told you then..."

I took a step closer, my mind racing. "Told me what?"

She glanced around, uncomfortable, but I wasn't backing down. "Just tell me," I said sharply.

She sighed then, took a breath before the words tumbled out of her. "It was the worst breach we've had. Our network's supposed to have state of the art encryption too, it should be uncrackable, but somehow someone got in. They accessed all sorts, assignments, undercover agent information. It blew some of their covers wide open. Thankfully they managed to get them all out in time... but it could have cost lives. Remember that senior member of staff Eric suddenly leaving? Someone had to be made accountable. At least they didn't access too many of the personnel files..." she trailed off, eyes darting around before coming to rest on me again. "They got into your file though... they accessed the whole lot... everything. It was strange because none of the other agents were affected... it was only yours..."

I'd stopped listening at this point. Thoughts were thundering through my head as I stood motionless, mouth agape.

"Are you alright? I don't think Paul wanted to worry you..."

I ignored her, starting to back away before I quickly whirled around and made for the door, flinging it open. All I could picture in my head was Van, eyes burning into me with intensity whilst he spoke those three words.

"I know you..."

[tearsofcaravel]

Josh x (F) Reader

Word count: 5.3k

18+ Warnings: smut with little plot, unprotected sex, spanking, (M) & (F) oral receiving, spit kink

Summary: You hit a small bump in the road while on a solo trip, a generous stranger offers his help.

A/N: This is my first Josh fic, I’ve been so nervous about writing him, anyways hope you enjoy! 🫶Happy reading! ✨

You knew it was probably not the smartest idea that you had ever had. That little voice in the back of your mind was practically screaming at you. You knew you should probably decline the offer, maybe even run in the opposite direction.

Everything that you had ever been taught was rushing through your mind. All of the horror stories you had heard about women on their own swirling around your head. If your friends knew you were even considering this they would lose their minds.

You were several hours into your solo trip to the mountains. Everything was going smoothly until you heard a ‘pop’ and your car began to swerve. Once you safely pulled over to the side of the road, you got out to inspect the damage. Luckily your car was fine, a simple tire change would send you right on your way. You had planned this trip out down to the minute details. Everything that was, except for a spare tire.

How could you have forgotten to check for the spare tire? You silently cursed yourself as you pulled out your phone and to no surprise, no service. There were no gas stations for miles, no cars had passed by in at least an hour. You were off to a great start.

With no other options in your view, you grabbed your belongings and started to walk towards your destination. You were only about 30 minutes from your cabin.

Only a few minutes into your walk you hear the first car in hours approaching. You had no intention of flagging them down since you weren’t far from your campsite. You weren’t surprised when they slowed up beside you. You tried to wave them off. Your guard was on high alert. After all you were a woman, all alone, and in the middle of nowhere.

The window of the car rolled down, revealing a younger man who looked around your age. From what you could see he was wearing an old tank top that revealed his nicely toned arms and tanned skin. He had on sunglasses that hid his eyes, but he had a blinding smile.

“Hi, was that your car back there? Need some help? A ride maybe?” he says gesturing behind you to your car.

“Uh yeah it is, my friend is on their way with a tire, but thanks,” you lied to him, hoping that would send him on his way.

“Well where are you headed, I could give you a lift to somewhere, out of this heat at least,” he asks again.

“There’s a campsite just ahead, not far. I don’t mind the walk,” you said as you continued to walk. He kept his vehicle at the same pace as you were walking. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. Any other time you would have found this behavior creepy and intimidating. He just seemed to give off something different, so sweet and genuine. You didn’t even know his name, but you felt like you could trust him for whatever reason.

“I’m actually staying at a campsite not far from here as well, your’s is probably on my way. I know I’m a stranger, I would just feel terrible leaving you out here all alone,” he said, flashing that smile at you again. He even showed you his cabin key to prove he was really staying up ahead.

“That’s actually where I’m staying, what a strange coincidence,” you lightly chuckled.

You were someone who was always aware of their surroundings, you thought every single decision out carefully. You also heavily prided yourself on your ability to read people. Something in your mind ignored all of the normal fight or flight signals from this total stranger.

On the other hand you really had no other choice. You managed to get yourself in this situation and you could get yourself out of it. He did have the most inviting smile you’d ever seen, he seemed so kind, so genuine, but didn’t they all. What’s the worst that could happen… right?

You thought to yourself for a few more moments and finally decided to take up his offer. It was only a ride, then you’d never see him again. “Well what are the chances, I’ll take you up on the ride since we seem to be heading in the same direction anyways,” you said as he leaned over and opened the passenger door for you.

You hopped in the front seat with your backpack at your feet and your nerves melting away. Something about this stranger’s presence put you at such ease. He had some music you’d never heard playing at a low volume through the car speakers. You always thought that you could tell a lot about a person based on their music taste.

Once your eyes had adjusted to being out of the sun you were able to get a better look at him. You had never considered a guy pretty before, but that was the word that came to mind as you raked your eyes over his figure. He had a soft, kind face and soft brown eyes. He had fluffy brown hair, the sides shaved.

He caught you staring and his cheeks tinted pink, “I’m Josh,” he extended his hand for you to shake.

You nervously took it, you made a mental note of how soft and tender his skin was. “I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” you said shyly.

“Well Y/n, it’s nice to meet you too. What brings you here if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Just a little getaway for myself. This may sound cheesy, but also to feel closer with nature. To spend some quality time with myself and peace and quiet. If that even makes sense, what about you?” you said, feeling your face turn red hearing your own answer out loud.

He explained to you that he was actually here for the same thing as you. He needed some time away from the noise and people. You talked like you had been friends forever during the short ride. Before you knew it you were at the campsite.

“You can just drop me at the main cabin. Thank you for the ride Josh,” you said as you got out of the car.

“It was my pleasure. Best of wishes on your journey here. Who knows, maybe i’ll run into you again Y/n,” he slowly drove off with a blush on his cheeks.

You got yourself checked in finally. The receptionist had been kind enough to call a tow truck and have them replace your tire. They would even bring it to the campsite tomorrow. You were absolutely exhausted from the long drive and the stress of having to get your car towed. At least you had that taken care of for now. All you wanted was to relax and unwind for the night.

They handed you your set of keys and told you how to get to your cabin. It was a short enough walk, but still far from most of the other cabins. It was perfectly secluded just as you had hoped. The air was refreshing, warm, and crisp around you. No other sounds besides nature filled your ears. Once you got closer you looked to see if anyone was staying in the neighboring cabin.

In the driveway was a familiar car. One that you had just ridden in. It couldn’t be right? That would be a weird coincidence. Sure enough, as you walked onto your own porch with a better view, you see the friendly face sitting on his own porch watching you intently. He gives you a smirk and a wave. You return a small wave of your own, hoping to hide the blush on your cheeks.

You couldn’t lie to yourself, you had hoped to run into him again. It seems like you would be doing a lot of that over the next two weeks, though you didn’t know how long he had planned to stay here. A small part of you wished it was two weeks as well.

Still a part of you found it strange, but also like fate in a strange way. He seemed to be alone. No partner or anyone with him. Although you were a stranger, why would he have told you anything personal like that?

You thought about going over there to him, but you decided against it. You didn’t want to intrude on his privacy or seem like a creep yourself.

You made your way inside of your own cabin, pushing the pretty stranger to the side of your mind for later. You got yourself settled in and decided since it was so late in the evening already that you would run a bath.

You took your relaxing bath, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. About halfway through you realized that you would be getting hungry soon, and even better, that you had no food. Of course you had your hiking snacks, but nothing that could pass for a real meal. The plan was to drive and get food at the nearby market after you got checked in. Your plan had hit a bit of a bump in the road. The main cabin had closed for the day. Looks like the snacks would have to do for tonight.

Just as you made that decision, there was a soft knock on your door. So soft that you almost missed it over your own music playing through your phone. You quickly dried off and threw on an old tank top and shorts. You had an idea of who it might be and you were right. You opened the door to see the pretty stranger on your porch.

“Hi there neighbor, I hope that I’m not bothering you. I made too much food for dinner and I would hate for it to go to waste. If you would care to join me?” he said in a smooth voice.

“I would like that Josh, give me a few minutes to change and I’ll be right over,” you blushed.

It was like he had just read your mind. You smiled and shut the door, running around looking for something to wear. It’s not like it was a date. It was dinner with a stranger. But still, a gorgeous stranger, who you definitely wanted to get to know.

You decided on a flowy skirt and bright tank top for your attire. You made the conscious decision to forgo a bra, you rarely wore one anyway. You made the short walk to his cabin. From the moment that you stepped outside you could smell the cuisine. You lightly tapped on the door, suddenly feeling out of your comfort zone.

He quickly opened the door like he had already been standing there waiting for your arrival. “Come on in, make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing you into his cabin.

You took a swift look around to find that it was almost identical to yours, his decor was a bit different. It seemed like he had been there for a bit. Something about it felt cozy and homey, maybe that was just his presence. There was something about him that you just couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Would you like to eat inside or outside Y/n?”

“Either is fine by me, it is a nice evening, but I don’t think there are enough lights to be able to see outdoors,” you always hated making the decisions, especially with someone you didn’t know.

“Outdoors it is then, I’ve got the lights covered,” he guided you to the back porch and down the steps where he had a small fire going. You heard a small click and you were suddenly surrounded by bright fairy lights wrapped around the trees that lit up his entire backyard. It looked almost magical.

‘So he has been here for a while already if he is this settled in,’ you thought to yourself.

“Go ahead and sit anywhere you want. I told you that you can make yourself at home. I’ll go make our plates, give me just a few minutes,” he said and scurried off before you could protest.

You sat down in a comfy lawn chair closest to the fire he had built. It was incredibly peaceful. All of your senses felt so relaxed. The smell of the fire and dinner was divine. The sounds of the animals, birds, crickets, frogs, filled your ears. The crackle of the fire soothing you into a slight trance.

You still wondered why he had taken such an interest in you, after all you were a stranger. Something about him made you want to learn more, know more, much more.

He brought out your plates and two glasses of red wine for you both.

“This looks wonderful. Thank you Josh, this was too kind of you,” you said as he handed you your plate.

“Can I tell you something Y/n?” he said as he sat down with his own plate in the seat directly across from you.

“Sure Josh?” you said nervously.

“I made too much on purpose. As soon as I saw that you were going to be my neighbor I was thrilled. I did this as an excuse to get to know you better, to be able to spend more time with you. For all I know you could only be staying one night here and I would just kick myself if I never saw you again,” he said matter of factly.

“I appreciate your honesty Josh, it’s very refreshing. While we are being honest, I almost walked over whenever I first got here and saw that we were going to be neighbors, clearly I chickened out. It’s actually weird that you asked me to dinner when you did. I realized since my car is stuck on the side of the road I had no way of getting food and I was starving. I can definitely say that I wanted to see you again. You have to admit it is crazy that we’re staying at the same place and that we are neighbors right?” you admitted.

“I don’t really believe in coincidences Y/n, this was definitely fate,” he said with courage.

You got to know each other better while you enjoyed your meal. He was quite the cook. There was never really any small talk. Which was a quality that you really liked about him. He jumped right into the more profound aspects of life. He seemed like such an open book. He brought on deep and meaningful conversation topics. Like you both genuinely cared to get to know each other.

Something about him was drawing you closer and closer. He looked so radiant from the flames of the fire. He was charismatic and full of a bubbly personality. He was full of such passion. It was like he had you in a trance, right where he wanted you.

Throughout the night you noticed the both of you scooting your seats closer and closer until there was hardly any space left between you. You spent the evening shamelessly flirting back and forth. You ended up staying until well past midnight, the hours were passing by without you even noticing. You found yourself becoming entranced by Josh and you could tell that feeling was mutual. By the time the night was over, you felt like you had known him your whole life. Like you hadn’t only met him earlier today.

You finally decided to call it a night when you noticed Josh looking a bit tired. You could have honestly stayed out here with him all night if he asked, you simply feared of being a burden, or overstaying your welcome. You did make plans to hang out more tomorrow in the midst of your many different conversations.

“Goodnight Josh, thank you for dinner. This was really nice. I can’t remember the last time that I talked like this with anyone,” you spoke as you got up to leave.

“Wait before you go Y/n, I wanted to ask you how long you were staying? If you don’t mind me asking of course,”

“I’m here for two weeks. I was wondering the same thing about you actually?”

“Another one of your coincidences it seems, two weeks for me too,”

“Hm, how about that, see you tomorrow Josh,”

“At least let me walk you home, I wouldn’t want you to make that long trip in the dark all alone,” he said as he stood up from his seat.

You didn’t protest his sincere gesture. You made the short walk together. Just before you made it to the porch your hand slightly brushed against his. He took this opportunity and gently grasped your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You were hoping he couldn’t see the redness of your cheeks and goofy mile wide smile you had plastered across your face.

You cleared your throat, “Uhm Josh, you could come in, if you wanted?”

You weren’t really planning on inviting him in, something had just come over you. He wasn’t really a stranger anymore. You felt like you really knew him. The connection that you felt with him was so different than anything that you had ever felt before. He stared at you with a strange look on his face for a few moments before answering. You were now terrified that you had crossed a line or read his emotions towards you wrong, maybe he did have a partner.

His cheeks were flushed pink. He let go of your hand, which you thought was your answer. When you started to back away, filled with embarrassment and regret, he grabbed you softly by the back of your neck and pulled you into a lustful, searing kiss. He pushed your back into the hard wooden door.

The kiss quickly became tongues fighting for dominance and teeth clashing together. You suddenly found yourself bursting the door to your cabin open. He immediately swept you up and wrapped your legs around his torso. Things were heating up fast.

Your head was spinning from how quickly the night had progressed. Seeing as your cabins were almost identical he knew exactly where the bedroom was. He wasted no time getting you both there. He gently laid you onto the bed.

The air was thick around you now, your ears were ringing with excitement. The sounds of light giggling and heavy breathing filled the room. He made quick work of slipping your clothes off. Now here you were, with this not so stranger of a man, almost fully naked.

He paused for a moment, taking his time inspecting your body. He slowly raked his eyes over your figure, you were in only your underwear. “We don’t have to, we can slow down if you want,” he said so quietly.

You answered him by sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt and untying the drawstring of his shorts. You ran your hands slowly over his toned stomach, taking in every detail that you could. He had such soft, silky skin. You took a moment to gawk over his figure. The bulge in his shorts was unconcealable at this point. You just barely ran your hand over it causing him to hiss. He undressed himself the rest of the way. When he pulled his shorts down his cock sprang free, smacking the skin of his stomach. His pink tip was swollen and glistening from his arousal. Your mouth began to water at the gorgeous sight. He stood over you, completely naked now.

He began to trail wet kisses from your jaw down to your breasts. Taking his sweet time with your body, not wanting to rush the night. He wrapped his entire mouth around one of your hardened nipples, flicking his tongue and sucking lightly, while one hand toyed playfully with your other hardened nipple, pinching it lightly.

He proceeded on with his trail of kisses until he met the waistband of your panties, which were now more than soaked through. He put the elastic waistband in between his teeth and ripped them off. You could have come undone at the animalistic act. You heard a groan rumble from his chest.

He licked one agonizing stripe up your cunt and began devouring you like a starving man. You were a whimpering mess in mere moments. You should have been embarrassed from the sounds he was pulling from you. Thank goodness that there were no other neighbors around, they would surely hear you now.

His middle and index finger slid in with ease. He was gentle at first to get you used to the feeling. He started to plunge into you, curling his fingers skillfully in all of the right ways. He was hitting every sweet spot. While his tongue sucked away at your swollen clit.

You were screaming his name like a prayer, coming undone faster than your mind could keep up with, “Josh - Oh fuck Josh, I’m gonna cum, fuck please.”

“No need to beg sweetheart, make a mess of me, use me however you’d like mama,” he grumbled from your center.

Your hips were bucking at their own accord, grinding on his nose perfectly. You had your hands tangled in his hair, pulling and tugging away, you were sure it was hurting him, but he didn’t make any complaints. His eyes were stuck on yours, like he could see right into you.

With a few more plunges of his fingers into your begging cunt you came undone around him. Your back arched and your thighs squeezed around his head. You were sure that he was suffocating, but he worked you through your orgasm with no fuss.

When your body finally came down from its high, you looked up to see Josh’s eyes blown out with lust, his hair tousled in all directions, and his chin and neck completely soaked. He gently slid his fingers out of your cunt and brought them directly to his mouth. You let out a pathetic whimper at the sight. He groaned at the taste and sucked them clean, rolling his eyes back. “I could taste you forever, fuck you taste like heaven, so divine.”

Your body felt like jello, but you mustered up the strength to sit up and take control. You grabbed him by the shoulders and placed him in the center of the bed against the headboard. He willfully gave you the reins.

Now you were able to see him and all that he had to offer, every little detail. He was so beautiful. His face was coated in your arousal, he was glowing. The moonlight from the window was hitting him perfectly, showing you all of his intricate features.

You started at his neck, making your own trail down to his own center. You teased at his nipples, biting each one ever so gently. You left bite marks and wet kisses in your wake. His cock was so hard it looked almost painful. His tip was swollen and leaking.

You gently wrapped your hands around his cock. He tensed up immediately and let out the faintest whimper. You would definitely be storing that in your mind for later. You stroke him ever so slowly, testing out just how much teasing he can take. You peck kisses up and down his thighs, raking your nails along the way, making your way back to his length. You pepper slow, small kisses up and down his cock.

You could feel him beginning to squirm underneath you. His fists were clenching the sheets, his feet were digging into the mattress, the muscles in his thighs were twitching. You knew he couldn’t take much more. His breathing was ragged from anticipation. You knew he wouldn’t push you, but maybe you wanted him to.

You finally caved into your own desires to feel him and taste him. You licked a long strip up the length of his cock, moaning right onto it. You swirled your tongue around his tip, tasting the sweetness of his precum. His fists were white from holding the sheets so tightly.

You took him entirely into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. His hands found their way into your hair making a ponytail. You could tell that he was fighting the urge to push your head down farther, but his bucking hips were giving him away.

Spit was pooling at the corners of your mouth, you were gagging each time he hit the back of your throat, tears were threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes. Your nose was buried in the small patch of pubic hair that he had. He was letting you make a mess of him, he was moaning beautiful melodies to your ears. His eyes were rolling to the back of his head, he was fighting to keep his eyes on you.

You slowly pulled off of him with a ‘pop’, while still stroking him. You looked up to see him slowly coming unraveled for you. You gave him your best doe eyes, “Joshy, will you please fuck my face?”

“Fucking filthy girl,” he groaned to you. He wasted not a moment picking you up and throwing you on your back. Your head was hanging off the bed slightly, giving him the best angle. He loomed over you, his cock the only thing in your line of vision.

You opened your mouth for him to signal that you were ready. He smirked down at you, letting a string of spit fall from his lips into your open mouth. He toyed with you at first, rubbing his head over your tongue, coating it.

He let out a satisfied hum and took his cock and slid it into your eager mouth. He went slow at first, setting a steady pace, making sure that you were comfortable enough. You let him have control back now. After a minute or so he began to pick up the pace, sliding in and out of your mouth with lewd sounds. He was incredibly vocal. His own moaning and pleasure caused you to moan around him. The vibrations sent him into a whirlwind. You could feel him twitching slightly in your mouth.

You tapped his thigh, he panicked at first thinking he had hurt you. He quickly pulled out, but when he did you gently cupped his balls. He brought his body closer for you to have easier access to whatever you wished from him. You licked the underside of his length and took his balls in your mouth. You sucked softly, causing him to let out a deep moan from his throat. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his mouth hanging agape in awe.

He plunged back into your throat. He reached down and began rubbing slow circles around your clit. This only caused him to thrust harder and deeper into your throat, which you eagerly welcomed. You were squirming under each other’s touch.

He grabbed your hands that were wrapped around the back of his legs and pulled out of you. He gave you a few moments to catch your breath and helped you sit up.

“Can I please fuck you now mama?” he begged you.

“Please,” was all that you could muster up.

He put you on all fours, ass in the air, presented to him perfectly. He lined himself up with your entrance, you felt a string of spit fall perfectly to your slit. He slowly slid in and out a few times for you to adjust. In one deep stroke he drove himself to the hilt. You welcomed the sting of the stretch.

It didn’t take him long to set a brutal pace. He was fucking you into the matress, pounding away at you like his life depended on it. His hips were crashing into you. He smacked your ass harshly, surely leaving red handprints for later. You welcomed the pain with the pleasure of it all. You let out a yelp and a moan. “Oh does my girl like it when I spank her? Have you been naughty Y/n? Do you need a spanking?”

“Yes please, harder Josh, give it to me!”

He grabbed your hair and pulled your back flush with his front. He was whispering expletives in your ear making you cry out even more for him. He brought his hand down to your cunt and delivered a sharp smack and began rubbing fast circles around your clit.

“Fuckfuck, I’m cumming, Josh don’t stop please!” You cried out. You convulsed around his cock as he worked you through your orgasm expertly. He never slowed his pace, if anything he became more rough.

He flipped you over onto your back without ever pulling out of you. “I want to watch your face when I make you cum again.”

“I don’t think I can again,” you whimpered to him.

“Oh mama, you’ll cum again if I want you to,” he cooed.

The intense sounds of crying out and skin slapping together filled the air around you both. He continued his brutal plunge into you. He brought his hand to your lower stomach, “You feel me here baby, right here deep inside of you.”

His hips rocked into yours at a perfect rhythm, pounding relentlessly away. He was grunting your name over and over like it was his new favorite word. When that rhythm began to falter you knew he was getting close.

“W-where do you want me mama? I’m close,” he barely got out.

“Inside, please, I want you to fill me up Josh,” he rubbed quick circles around your clit for a third time. It didn’t take long for him to pull another orgasm from you. Your nails were digging brutally into his back, leaving crescent moons in their path. Your cunt squeezed and convulsed around him, your legs wrapped tightly around his body. Your legs shook uncontrollably and violently around him. He delivered one final stroke into you and you felt his cock twitch and his warmth fill you up.

He pulled out of you slowly with a hiss from the sting. You whimpered at the loss of contact. You were swimming in each other’s desire and want. You could feel his cum slowly begin to leak out of you.

You were both glowing in the moonlight and sweat. You laid together in silence, just listening to the sound of one another breathing. Josh was the first to speak, “Let’s get you cleaned up doll, hm I’ll run us a bath?”

You shook your head in agreement. Your entire body felt like jello, Josh scooped you up from the bed and put you both in the bath. He bathed the both of you and even carried you back to bed. He tucked you in and slid in gently with you on the other side.

“One more question Y/n, was the friend bringing you a new tire a lie?” he quizzed.

“It may have been, but I’m still happy that I took you up on that ride. Goodnight Josh,” you whispered as he rolled you onto his chest. You took one last deep breath, taking in his scent which was now mixed with your own.

“Goodnight Y/n, I’m glad you took me up on the ride as well,” he said, kissing your forehead. You were both asleep in just minutes.

This was going to be an interesting two weeks.